#no i did not mean for her hands to be hidden but hey it worked out

[cyanide-sippy-cup]

Copying her ex is one thing, but stealing her thunder? That's low, Babs.

[moonstruckme]

hai lovie!!! im not sure of youve written something like this for emt!marauders yet but could you write something where they come home from work to reader lying on the floor on the hallway due to having low blood pressure and shed tried to go get something to eat or something but had started feeling faint and had to lie down? and then when they come up to reader she starts to cry because being unwell makes her anxious (im not fussed if you dont add that last part up to you <3). i had really low blood pressure the other day and bad to lie on the floor for a good two hours and it really stressed me out :< anyway thanks lovie i hope youre doing well !!!!

Thanks for requesting <3

cw: mention of dizziness, nausea, worries about being alone when unwell and also being unwell in general

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

You’re half propped up with your elbow on a step when you hear the front door open. 

“Hello?” 

“Hello!” comes James’ chipper reply, followed by Sirius’ groan and the clunking of shoes as he no doubt kicks them off, beelining for the couch. After a moment of you not appearing to greet them, James asks, “Where are you?” 

“I’m—here.” You soften your voice when Sirius walks by the stairs, his step faltering as he locks eyes with you. 

His eyebrows bunch, concerned before he really knows why. “What’re you doing?” 

“I’m…” You shrug limply, trying on a helpless smile. Tears threaten to spill over from the way your eyes squish up. “I don’t feel right.” 

Sirius has only taken his first, slow step toward you, bemusement written across his features, before James and Remus are behind him at the base of the stairs. 

“Oh. Hi, angel.” James’ voice matches his expression, all gentleness, and worry hidden beneath counterfeit cheer. “Having a little lie down?” 

“Yeah,” you say. Sirius’ touch is a relief as he reaches you. He cups your face and feels your forehead, brows stitched together. You’re happy to be in capable hands. “I started to fall, so I just laid down here. I’m a bit dizzy.” 

There’s only so many of you that can fit on the stairs. James makes it to you next, crouching beside Sirius to take your hand in his and press his fingers to your pulse, so Remus is left peering over them both. He frowns, looking conflicted about his inability to help and worried in general. You try another smile for his sake; unfortunately, this time, the tears do spill. 

“Hey, don’t do that,” Sirius says, no real chiding in his tone as he knuckles them from your cheeks. 

“Sorry.” You force yourself to breathe, but new ones come anyway. It’s a slow sort of cry, the result of a good long while feeling sorry for yourself. “I just, I felt sick, so I tried to go upstairs to the toilet, but then I started to faint and I didn’t think I could make it back down to my phone, and I didn’t know when you would be home, or if anyone would find me…” 

“We’re here now, though, sweetheart,” Remus stops you gently. “It all worked out alright. You’re okay.” 

“Yeah.” You wipe underneath your eyes. “I think my blood pressure just dropped all of a sudden or something, but I still feel weird. It was scary.” 

“I think you’re right,” James says. He runs his thumb over your wrist. “I mean, I’d like to think it’s just because we’re home and you’re pleased to see us, but your heart’s going pretty fast, m’love. How long ago did you lie down here?” 

“I don’t know,” you reply, sniffling, feeling silly. “I don’t have my phone. Less than an hour, I think.” 

Remus hums. “That’s still a long while.” 

Honestly, you feel better just having your boyfriends here with you. Partly because of the security, of course, that you know you won’t faint and hit your head with no one to help you, but also, perhaps, there’s a small part of you that enjoys their fussing. The concerned set of Sirius’ brow, the way Remus’ mouth puckers thoughtfully, how James keeps rubbing his thumb over your wrist like he can soothe your heart back into its regular rhythm. 

“Well, then.” Sirius pats your hip, rising from his crouch. “Not much point in figuring it all out here, is there? C’mon, pretty girl, that step has to be killing your side.” 

It’s true; you think the edge of the step probably leaves an indent in your waist after you let Sirius haul you up, supporting you down the stairs and over to the couch. 

“I don’t feel as dizzy as I was expecting,” you admit. “Maybe I was overreacting.” 

“You?” Sirius exclaims, feigning astoundment. 

“Better to be safe,” says Remus. He claims a spot next to you quickly, as though seizing his opportunity. It makes your lips tug. “I’m glad you were careful, love.” 

You lean your head on his shoulder in a silent plea for coddling; he appeases you, pressing his lips to your hair while Sirius pinches the skin of your forearm gently. You watch him with mild interest. 

“When was the last time you drank water?” he asks. 

“Um…” You think back. 

Sirius lets go of your skin and tuts. “Yeah, seems like it’s been long enough for you not to remember.” 

“On it,” James announces, coming back from the kitchen with a large glass of water. He passes it to you over the back of the couch, and it’s so full a tiny bit spills over the rim onto your wrist, making you shiver. “It’s more common than you’d think for dehydration to do that to you. Gotta be careful.” 

“Yes,” says Remus drily, though his arm comes around your shoulders. “Rather easily avoidable.” 

You shrink, mumbling, “Sorry,” into your glass. 

James awws and bends over the back of the couch to plant a kiss on your head, his good cheer restored, genuinely now. “We all forget sometimes, lovie.” 

“Don’t enable her,” Sirius tells him. He cradles your arm in his hand, stroking the skin he’d pinched as though in apology for his treatment of it. “Don’t listen to him. It’s a grave oversight and you must repent forever.” 

“Forever?” Your smile still feels weak, but you’re coming back to yourself some. “How will I do that?” 

“Mm,” Sirius takes to kissing your arm instead, mumbling with a sternness that borders upon silly, “start with filling your water bottle every day before leaving the house, and at least three times after that.” 

You go quiet, gaze sliding to Remus skeptically. 

He raises an eyebrow. “What?” 

“Is that…really how much I’m supposed to have?”

His other eyebrow lifts, too. “Yes.” 

“Every day?” 

“Yes.” Remus laughs, exasperated. “Yes, that’s the water intake your body needs.” 

“There’s no way everyone’s doing that.” 

“They’re not,” James agrees. “Instead, everyone is getting dizzy and calling us so we can go pick them up from halfway up the stairs.” 

You bring the glass back to your lips, muttering, “I didn’t call, you just found me.” 

James kisses your head again, fiercely. “And we always will, lucky girl.”

[obsessedwithceleste]

The Cat Chronicles

(Or five times Theodore Nott *accidentally* stole your cat)

Theodore Nott x f! Ravenclaw! reader

word count: 5.9k

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

1

The first time your cat went missing, you didn’t think entirely too much of it. You knew many of the Hogwarts cats liked to gather behind the herbology greenhouse where a particularly plentiful patch of catnip grew. However, Gladys was never one to miss meal time, and when the time came to 30 minutes after her usual feeding time, you knew something was amiss. With a sigh, you made your way out to your common room where you saw Cho sitting by the fireplace with several other of your class mates.

“Has anyone seen Gladys wandering about? She missed feeding time and I haven’t seen her much today,” you say as you approach the group.

“I haven’t, sorry y/n. We’ll keep a look out for her though,” Cho tells you.

You let out a small sigh of disappointment.

“Thanks Cho,” you say before heading out to wander the halls of the castle, hoping to find your elusive, black cat.

You start out by the greenhouse where you see a whole gaggle of cats, but none with the sleek black coat that identified your furry friend. You then walked around the grounds a bit more with no luck, before moving on to the kitchens where several of the house elves promised to keep an eye out for the small black cat. You even checked several empty class rooms before coming to a stop outside the library. It wouldn’t hurt to check. Twenty minutes later, you were still completely out of luck. Tired and frustrated, you were about to call it a night when a loud chorus of voices turn down the hall. You look to see who it was and find a hoard of Slytherin boys making their way towards you. You recognized them of course, but didn’t exactly know them. What you did know however, was the mop of black fur one of the taller boys in the back of the group was holding.

“Gladys!” You exclaim, rushing towards the group of boys.

Their eyes all turn towards you and at the sound of her name, the fiesty black cat springs from the arms of the boy and runs towards you.

With a large grin of relief, you scoop the cat up into your arms, feeling her light purr as you scratch behind her ears. Feeling several pairs of eyes on you, you look up to see the group of boys still staring at you and your cat.

“Um, thanks, for finding my cat,” you say awkwardly, squeezing the cat to your chest lightly. The tall, brunette boy who had just been holding your cat only nods silently before turning and walking off, the rest of the group following, except one.

“Hey, sorry about Theo. He means well, really. Man really likes cats, but doesn’t have one of his own, so he sometimes makes friends with cats wandering the halls. We’ve all told him that he should probably stop, ah, borrowing, people’s cats, but he can’t seem to resist. Names Enzo by the way,” the boy says with a friendly smile, extending his hand out.

You take his hand, shaking it cautiously before a smile creeps it’s way onto your face.

“Thank you, Enzo.” You say, hesitating a moment before adding, “You know, Gladys is a picky bitch. Theo must be a pretty okay person if she let him carry her around.” You tell him before disappearing with your cat.

2

The second time your cat went missing, you honestly didn't realize she was missing at all. Theo had found his way down to the kitchens about a week after the original cat incident. That's how he thought of it anyway. The kitchens were one of his favorite places to lurk as not many students knew of the secret entrance behind one particular painting of a fruit bowl. The real attraction that often drew the brunette boy to the hidden sanctuary however, was the constant stream of cats that often visited the house elves who happily offered up dishes of cream and other treats. Plopping himself down on the floor next to a particularly populated bowl of milk, Theo's eyes were immediately drawn to a familiar set of glowing yellow orbs.

"Hello there, Gladys," he said hesitantly, decently sure that was the name called out by the pretty Ravenclaw girl who had stolen the cat from him a few nights ago.

Well, stolen in this case was rather relative, as the cat was technically hers, he supposed. Hearing her name however, the little black cat pranced over, nuzzling her head affectionately against his leg with a soft purr. Picking the sweet creature up into his arms, Theo stroked her soft fur, thinking back to his encounter with her owner, a grimace reaching his face.

He had been a downright bloody idiot. That was for certain. Theo was not usually one to be rendered incompetent by the mere presence of a pretty girl. No. That was meant more for Enzo. Or even Draco sometimes. But never Theodore. In fact, Theo had quite the reputation for his tendency to sleep around which made the idea of his mind completely blanking at the sight of this cat's owner all the more embarrassing. Matteo had made fun of him ruthlessly later that night. What had he said again? Right. Absolutely nothing. Just nodded like a right dunce.

The only solace Theo had gotten from that night was when Enzo pulled him aside quietly and told him what the pretty girl from earlier had said about him. "He must be pretty okay." It was hardly a compliment, but after the fool he'd made of himself, it really was the best Theo could hope for. Shaking the thoughts from his mind, Theo once again focused on the little beast snuggling contentedly in his arms, carefully scratching behind the ears, a spot he'd found the cat quite liked.

The sound of the entrance painting swinging open startled Theo; and he honestly wasn't sure if he was elated, or absolutely mortified that the very girl who had been previously plaguing his thoughts was stepping through into the kitchens.

You honestly weren't entirely surprised to see the boy from a few nights ago sitting on the floor, cradling your cat, when you entered the kitchens. After Enzo had admitted to you that the handsome brunette had a soft spot for the castle's feline population, you figured it was only a matter of time until you bumped into him here considering it was a hot spot for the four legged beasts.

"Hello. See you've managed to find my cat again," you say, offering a small smile to the boy in front of you. After your encounter with that particular group of Slytherins, you did a bit of asking around, finding that Theodore Nott, while a bit known for his escapades with the female population, was actually one of the more talented wizards of your year. And one of the more level headed. (But in comparison to Draco and Matteo, you weren't exactly sure how much credit to give him there.)

The boy blinks up at you once before seeming to find his voice.

"She's a sweet little thing," he says finally, clearing his throat and looking anywhere but you.

You cautiously move forward, more worried about spooking the boy in front of you than the cats. Sitting down, you allow a pretty little Siamese kitten to wander into your lap. Gladys hisses with jealousy, but remains snuggled in the arms of the boy.

"She really seems to like you. Bit surprising. She's really not much of a people person," you tell him.

Theo nods at you, an action you found yourself growing familiar with.

"Enzo told me." He replies curtly.

You open your mouth to respond, but don't quite know how, so you let an awkward silence roll over the two of you.

"Well, I find that Gladys is a very good judge of character," you say finally.

Theo lets out a small smile at this, continuing to stroke your cat's soft fur. After that, the two of you fall into a comfortable silence with Theodore continuing to shower your cat with affection while you distract the many other felines, crowding the kitchen floor.

"Theo?" you wonder finally, the question burning away at you. The boy looks up, and you find yourself getting lost in the surprisingly soft brown eyes staring back at you. Breaking from the trance with a small shiver, you ask, "If you like cats so much, why don't you have one of your own?"

Theo's eyes immediately fall, and his hand freezes mid pet, much to Gladys' dismay. A pang of guilt washes through you.

"My father isn't much of an animal person," He replies stiffly.

You give him a small nod in response before rising from the floor.

"It's getting pretty late, I should get going," you say softly. "Gladys can find her way back to the tower on her own just fine," you add when you see Theo make no move to release the cat.

Without another word, you move to open the portrait door. You enter the hall with a small smile gracing your lips as you hear his voice quietly as the door closes.

"Thank you, y/n."

He knew your name.

3

The next time Theo met Gladys was much sooner than he expected. He had left the kitchens several hours ago and was now laying in bed. The clock sitting on his bed side now read 1am. The deafening silence was about to finally lull him to sleep when an insistent scratching at the door caused his eyes to fly open. Sitting up, Theo glanced at the door warily before finally deciding to cross the room to find out what was causing the noise.

As soon as the door opened, a black shadow darted through, making a beeline for his bed. How it seemed to know exactly where it was going, Theo had no clue. Making his way silently back to his bed, careful not to wake either of his roommates, Theo was finally able to make out the dark shape of an ever familiar black cat.

"Hi there, principessa," he whispered, gently stroking the cat's ears before crawling into the bed next to it. Gladys seemed to take this as an invitation to curl up in the nook of his arm, and Theo wasn't about to object. The last thought he remembered before drifting off was how nice it would be if Gladys' pretty owner was there too.

"Theo, what the fuck."

Theo woke with a start, to the loud voice of Lorenzo Berkshire ringing out above him. His eyes opened to see the other boy hovering over his bed, a look of shocked confusion apparent on his face.

"Is that y/n's cat?" he asks, leaning down as if to get a closer look at the fluff ball still snuggled in Theo's arms.

"No way," Matteo laughs from the other side of the room. "You stole her cat again? What, is this some sick and twisted new way for you to lure girls into your bed?"

Theo launches a pillow at Matteo's head. He doesn't miss.

"You better go return that thing before y/n starts to worry," Enzo advises, going back to his own side of the room. "And maybe just ask her out while you're at it hmm?" He adds, quickly ducking behind his fourposter before Theo has the chance to send another pillow flying his way.

With a heavy sigh, Theo comes to a stop outside of what he's pretty sure is the Ravenclaw common room. He's about to raise his hand to knock, when the golden eagle head mounted to the door springs to life.

"What gets broken, without being held?" The eagle asks, blinking at him slowly.

Right. Theo knew about this. The most annoying of the common room doors because instead of a password, the bloody door required you to answer a riddle. Theo was about to turn on his heel to leave when he felt a light presence behind him.

"Hello Theo. Hello Gladys." The platinum blonde haired girl said, giving the two of them an airy nod, before turning her attention to the door. "Would it perhaps be, a promise?" she asks.

The door swings open and Theo quickly hurries after the girl, making his way up the staircase. He'd never actually been inside the Ravenclaw common room, and his breath hitched when they reached the top of the stairs. The main room really was magnificent, nothing like the dark, eerie dungeons of the Slytherin common room. Theo eyed the shelves of books lining the wall longingly.

"Her room is just there, up and to the left," the blonde girl he'd followed in says, breaking him from his thoughts.

"Huh?"

"Y/n? Her room is just there," the girl repeats, gesturing to a door at the top of another small flight of stairs.

"Oh. thanks," Theo makes out, giving the girl a nod of gratitude.

"Name's Luna by the way. Luna Lovegood." She says whimsically before floating off.

With a deep inhale to calm his nerves, Theo makes his way up the stairs and knocks gently on the door. Gladys lets out a meow of protest. Absolutely nothing could have prepared Theo for what was on the other side of the door. He felt his throat go completely dry as the door swung open and you stood in front of him in what was probably the shortest, skimpiest set of clothing that could possibly be considered pajamas. Theo tried not to stare, he really did, but he was only a man. A very weak and smitten man.

"Oh! There you are Gladys. I wondered where you wandered off to last night!" you say looking at your cat and then back up at Theo, and then again at your cat before looking back up at Theo expectantly. "Um. May I have my cat back?"

Theo jolts back to life, realizing he'd been staring and looks at you sheepishly.

"Sorry, don't know how this little one found me. Snuck her way into the Slytherin common room and then into my dorm. Didn't want to leave her in the halls alone, so I let her stay the night," he tells you.

You stare at the boy in shock, realizing that was the longest string of words you'd ever heard out of him.

"Wow Theodore, I'm impressed. I think that's the most I've ever heard you talk. And here I was thinking you were secretly illiterate," you say with a playful grin.

"Please," the boy scoffs. "I'm the picture of eloquence."

Interested in where this sudden burst of confidence that you didn't normally see from him had come from, you take a step back, inviting him into your room. He hesitantly accepts your invitation, bringing Gladys along with him.

"No roommates?" he asks, perching on the edge of your bed as Gladys purrs softly on his lap. At the moment, you found nothing more attractive than this man absolutely pampering your beloved pet.

"Not many Ravenclaw girls in our year, we had the option to share, but most of us opted for solo rooms. Wanted the extra privacy, I suppose," you tell him, leaning on one of the posts at the end of your bed.

Theo nods his head at this.

"I have two roommates," he shares.

"One of them happen to be Enzo Berkshire?"

Theo nods again. "And Matteo. Riddle" he adds.

You cock your head at that with a grin.

"Interesting pairing," you comment, imagining the chaos those two must bring with them.

"It never gets boring," Theo responds.

A moment of silence passes.

"I was wondering if you wanted to study together sometime. I hear you're exceptionally talented at potions. And Charms. And everything really." Theo lets out finally.

You raise an eyebrow at the boy, internally screaming.

Trying to keep your cool, you tilt your head, "I hear you are too."

It's like a switch flips inside Theo.

"Well, we're obviously perfect for each other than," He replies easily, a cocky grin beginning to spread across his face. "Meet you in the library tomorrow at 7? And bring the cat."

You let out a laugh as Theo rises from the bed, gently placing Gladys down on the pillow, before going to make his way out of your dorm.

"You only like me for my cat," you joke, shifting to watch as he crosses the room to the door.

"Not just for your cat," he assures you, "I love the outfit, wear it for me more often, hmm?" he says slyly before the door thuds shut behind him.

You look down at your outfit, jaw dropping open and heat rushing to your cheeks.

4

Theo's head was pounding. Music pumped through the Slytherin common room and Theo could barely see through the crowds of people around him as he pushed his way to the circle of sofas occupied by his friends. Collapsing into a spot next to Matteo, the boy offered him another shot of who-knew-what which he quickly knocked back.

"When's that pretty little thing that's been occupying all your time gonna join us at one of our little gathering?" Matteo slurs out, gesturing to the large crowd around them.

Over the past several weeks, you and Theo had grown significantly closer; your first study date quickly becoming a daily occurrence as you found that you each were able to easily keep up with one another. Something about having a partner who was actually able to challenge you was exhilarating. From there, you found yourselves often seeking each other out simply for the sake of good company, Gladys largely increasing the number of these meetings.

"Don't know that Gladys would like it. Cat's aren't supposed to ingest alcohol," Theo responded, not quite drunk enough to fall for his friend's taunting.

Enzo places another shot in his hand, and Theo raises a brow at him, before knocking that one back as well.

"Did you ever ask y/n why in Salazar's name, she choose to name her cat Gladys?" Matteo asks. "If my name were Gladys, I'd being running off constantly too."

Theo thumps Matteo on the back of the head.

"You leave our cat out of this, she ain't do nothin wrong," he says, glaring at his friend.

"So now she's our cat is she?" Enzo asks, a smirk growing on his face. "Didn't know you and y/n were so serious."

"It's our cat damnit! If marrying y/n is what it takes to finally have a cat of my own, so be it," Theo says decidedly.

Enzo snorts at his clearly, very drunk friend. "Careful, or one might think you're only into her for her cat. And not the cunty kind."

Theo scowls at this. "Y/n says that all the time, but have you seen that ass? And the way she mopped the floor with Draco in potions the other day? She's perfect."

"Yeah? Why don't you go tell her that then?" Matteo says, wanting nothing more than to see a drunk Theo try to make his way to Ravenclaw Tower.

"You know what? I will. And I'll pet Gladys too." Theo states. A look of pure, intoxicated determination set on his face.

Lorenzo eyes his friend warily. While not exactly sober himself, he didn’t particularly like the look his friend was giving them.

“Aw c’mon Enz, don’t you try and be the voice of reason now,” Matteo drawls, sensing the hesitation coming from his friend. “Don’t you want to meet the lil thing our beloved Theodore has been obsessing over for weeks now?”

“I’m not obsessing,” Theo snaps, taking a sip straight out of a random bottle he’d picked up from the table.

“Let’s go. I’m gonna steal her cat. For real this time.”

With a wide grin, Matteo jumps up, ready to follow his friend wherever the night took him. With a low groan, Enzo followed suit, knowing that his pair of roommates would need some sort of guidance to prevent them from walking themselves straight of the edge of the astronomy tower.

You didn’t have a lot of expectations for the quiet Friday night that you were spending curled up with a book and your cat. It was late, and after a long and stressful week, the time alone with Gladys was just what you needed to really recharge. You had spent most of your day lounging out on the lawn next to the Black Lake with Theodore, studying with and harassing the boy. A small smile crept onto your face, remembering the way his brown curls had floated about in the soft breeze.

You really hadn’t expected for the two of you to become so close, so quickly, but you weren’t complaining. You’d grown quite fond of the boy, especially once he started opening up a bit more. You’d initially thought that he was a man of very few words, but quickly learned he was in fact very sharp witted and even a bit snarky at times. Time spent with him had easily become your favorite part of the day and was something you were constantly looking forward to.

A sharp knock jolted you from your thoughts, causing you to jump a bit where you were sitting, Gladys letting out a yowl of protest.

You quickly cross the room and open the door to find a very miffed looking Cho, a frown imbedded on her face.

“Sorry to bother, but could you please come get your boy under control? He’s upsetting the portraits.” She says.

You blink once. Then again.

“Sorry?”

“Your Slytherin fellow? He’s out in the corridor with two of his friends harassing the door,” she explains, turning to lead you down the spiral staircase.

You’re not even halfway down when you begin to hear the voices.

“Who in the bloody hell would want to be in Ravenclaw with this blast-ended skewt ass looking-“

“Matteo you can’t curse out the door.”

“I’ll curse at the bloody door if I want to bloody curse at it.”

You grimace, looking at Cho who looks back with a similarly displeased facial expression.

“Sorry bout them. I’ll take it from here,” you tell her when you reach the bottom.

With a slight nod, she turns to retreat back up the stairs. With a sigh, you push the door open, almost taking out Matteo who had been leaning on it for support.

“Hi amore, fancy seeing you here,” Theo slurs, a grin taking over his face at the sight of you.

Enzo leans against a pillar, face in hands, looking like he wanted to disappear. You could smell the alcohol on all of them.

“Hi Theodore. Are you sober?” You ask, already knowing the answer.

“I’m moderately functional,” he replies with a lopsided smile.

“I’m taking that as a no,” you say, glancing worriedly at Matteo who was currently laying spread eagle on the floor. “Let’s get you boys back to your common room.”

“I wouldn’t. Party’s not gonna end any time soon. They’ll just get more hammered and start wandering off again,” Enzo advises, head still in hands. “Like herding hippogriffs with those two.”

“And Theo hasn’t proclaimed his undying love for y/n yet!” Matteo adds.

You feel heat rise to your cheeks and Theo glowers at his friend.

“It’s okay Theo, I know he’s drunk,” you say, not certain if you were saying it more to comfort him or yourself.

Theo ignores you however, turning his attention back to the door.

“Let us in, I just want to pet the cat,” he tells the door, swaying ever so slightly.

For Salazar’s sake. Man gets absolutely wasted and just wants to pet your cat. You go to grab onto Theo to steady him, but he has other plans. Immediately, he wraps his arms around you, nuzzling his face into your hair.

“Hi,” he mumbles, picking you up just enough that your toes barely touch the ground. “I missed you. Can we see the cat now?”

Not knowing what else to do, you glance helplessly at Enzo.

“Would you be able to get Matteo up the stairs?” You ask.

“I can try. He’s a stubborn bastard though.”

You turn back to the door, knocking once. The eagle once again moves to life, glaring at the scene in front of it.

“If the day before yesterday was the 23rd, what is the day after tomorrow?” It asks crankily.

“We’re too fucking wasted for this bloody bullshit,” Matteo moans from the floor.

You try to ignore Theo’s tight grasp on your waist and Enzo prodding at Matteo with his foot before answering. “The 27th.”

The door swings open and you try your best to haul Theo through, Enzo following closely behind with a very disgruntled Matteo. Dragging the boys up the staircase feels like the most difficult task of your life as you constantly tell Matteo to lower his voice and mind his mouth while also trying to ignore the very minimal distance between yourself and Theodore. When you finally make it to the top, you rush to herd the boys into your room before slamming the door shut behind you with relief. Theo immediately stumbles over to your bed, collapsing face first in the middle and snatching Gladys into his arms.

“No roommates?” Enzo asks, looking around the room and seeing the single empty bed that you had pushed into the corner at the beginning of the year.

“No, thank Rowena. I would not want to have to explain whatever this is.” You reply, motioning to Theo and Matteo who was now wandering about the room.

“Room’s a mess. Coulda at least cleaned up a bit,” he says, poking at the various books and blank scrolls lying about.

“Had I known I would be having guests at,” you glance at the clock, “almost 2 in the morning, I’m sure I would have.” You say dryly.

Retrieving your wand from your desk, you point it at the spare bed. “Engorgio.” The wooden frame creaks as it expands until it can comfortably fit 2 people. You look at Enzo.

“Good luck with that one,” you say, almost feeling sorry for the boy as Matteo flops onto the bed with a groan.

“Looks like you’re gonna need it more than me,” he replies, gesturing to Theo who was out cold, Gladys trapped and bug eyed in his grasp. With a sigh you and Enzo each resign yourselves to your respective charge.

“Theodore,” you whisper, giving the boy a light shove. No sign of life. You give him a slightly harder shove, allowing Gladys is wriggle out of her prison. Frowning, you sit down on the edge of the bed, using most of your body weight to shove Theo to one side of the bed before sliding under the covers. Now deeming it safe, Gladys hops back into the bed, nestling into your arms happily. You’re about to close your eyes when you feel arms snaking around your waste, pulling you into the very warm chest of Theodore Nott. You freeze, holding your breath, not sure if the boy is asleep or not.

“Goodnight mi amore,” he whispers into your neck, causing the hairs to prickle.

Definitely not asleep.

“Goodnight Theodore.”

You hadn’t had any expectations for the night really, but you definitely had not expected to have multiple overnight guests who were trying to steal your cat. And you most certainly did not expect to drift off in the arms of Theodore Nott.

5

The next morning you wake up missing the usual lump of fur weighing down on your chest. Immediately you bolt upright, eyes shooting around for any sign of your furry companion before the events of last night wash over you. Enzo and Matteo are both still out cold and when you look down, your jaw drops open. Theo is fast asleep, back facing you, Gladys snoozing contentedly while cradled in his arms. Even in his sleep this absolute tosser had managed to steal your damn cat.

Careful not to wake the boys, or Gladys, you silently sneak across the room and disappear out the door. Once you’re safely out of hearing distance, you make your way quickly down the kitchens. A little known fact about the Hogwarts house elves was that many had once served in the homes of different wizarding families at one time or another. This meant that many of the elves were all too familiar with the valuable hangover potion that you sought.

Ducking in through the portrait hole, it wasn’t difficult to persuade the elves into handing over 3 glistening blue vials. You had always been kind to them, often chatting with them during your visits with the cats.

Your task complete, you made your way back to Ravenclaw tower, taking your time as you didn’t expect the boys to be up any time soon. They really had been plastered. Not even Enzo had been completely sober you recalled.

You’re just passing the entrance to the dungeons when a voice calls out.

“Hey! You!”

You’re ready to continue on your way before noticing that there was no one else in the corridor they could be referring to. You turn to see two girls you recognized as the Greengrass sisters hurrying towards you.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” the shorter blonde girl says when they get closer. You’re pretty sure that one is Astoria. “You’re the girl Theo has been seeing right?”

You nod your head cautiously. You knew Theo had a reputation for getting around, so if that’s what this was about, things were about to become quite awkward.

“You haven’t happened to see him or Matteo or Lorenzo, have you?” The other girl, Daphne, asks.

“Draco said he saw the three of them leave the party together last night, but no one saw them come back,” Astoria explains.

You feel yourself immediately relax. Good. At least this was something you could help with.

“You two are lucky you found me then I suppose,” you tell them, gesturing for them to follow. “The three of them tried breaking into Ravenclaw tower last night, so I let them crash in my dorm.”

“Oh Salazar. Were they trying to steal your cat? I’m so sorry. When Matteo gets drunk he has a tendency to try and egg Theo on,” Astoria frets.

You give the girls a strange look. “You know about my cat?” You ask, surprised.

“Oh sure,” Daphne replies. “Whole group does really. Boys came back one night going on about how Theo was just smitten with some Ravenclaw with a cute cat. And I can see why. You’re gorgeous by the way.”

You blush at her statement, diverting the subject away.

“The boys should probably still be asleep. I just ran down to the kitchens to get these,” you tell them, brandishing the potions you had gathered. “Once they’ve downed these, they’re all yours.”

Astoria eyes the potions with jealousy and you realize the two girls were probably decently hung over as well.

“Oh you can keep Theo, we were really just looking to collect Enzo and Matt,” Daphne laughs, giving you a sly look. You open your mouth to reply, but stop realizing you had reached your common room door.

After a few attempts, you’re finally able to solve the blasted riddle and the door swings open.

“I don’t think we’ve ever had this many Slytherins in our common room before,” you joke, leading the girls up to your room.

Pushing the door open, you’re unsurprised to see the boys still passed out.

“This must be the infamous Gladys,” Daphne whispers, quietly approaching Theo who was still clutching onto Gladys as if his life depended on it. Again you’re surprised that these girls apparently even knew the name of your cat.

The two coo at the sight of your cat, coming to the conclusion that she was indeed worthy of warranting cat theft before Astoria finally decided it was time for them to get the boys out of your hair. They migrated over to the other side of the room where Enzo and Matteo were sound asleep, leaving you to deal with Theo.

You decide the easiest route, may just be to lure Gladys away, so you fetch her food dish before accio-ing her kibble container. At the sound of her food, Gladys was up and running, darting over for her morning feast. At the sudden loss of fluffy heat, Theo groaned, rolling over, face down into the pillows. After giving Gladys her food, you move back to Theo, giving him a rough shake.

“Come back to bed principessa,” he grumbles, reaching out and flailing his arm in your general direction.

“It’s time to get up Theodore. Come on, I got you three hangover potions,” you say, waving one over his head.

“Did someone say hangover potion? Give,” Matteo demands from the other side of the room. You look over to see Daphne and Astoria sitting on the side of the bed while Matteo and Enzo were groggily waking up.

Pulling out her wand, Daphne gestured for you to toss her the potions which her magic catches easily, levitating the vials over to the other two boys. Matteo snatches one out of the air, quickly downing half before offering the other half to Astoria. Enzo does the same, giving the second half to Daphne who graciously accepts. After a moment, the four of them are looking much more awake.

“Thanks for making sure these three didn’t drown themselves in the lake,” Astoria says, once the potion had really kicked. “And sorry you’re not having more luck with that one. He’s always been a late riser.”

“You’ll be lucky to get him up in the next hour,” Enzo agrees, rising from the bed. “Thanks again y/n.”

The four of them shuffle out of your dorm, a chorus is thanks and apologies strung along until they reached the door. Even Matteo gave you a nod of gratitude. Once they were all gone, you collapse once more onto your bed.

“They finally gone?” You hear Theo ask, as he rolls over to look at you. You nod, faces so close that your noses are practically touching and you can feel small puffs of air as he exhales. “Thanks for last night. I’m sorry for trying to steal your cat.”

You let out a snort at that. “Did you know when I woke up this morning, you had turned away from me completely, and stolen my cat away from me in your sleep?” You ask with a laugh.

Theo at least has the decency to look embarrassed as Gladys joins the two of you once more.

“I should do this more often,” Theo says finally, reaching out to stroke Gladys’s fur.

“What? Get downright plastered and break into my room, or steal my cat?” You scoff.

“Sleep in your bed with you.”

You freeze, looking up to see if the boy was being serious. His eyes blink back at you unwavering.

“You can come back any time,” you tell him, snuggling your way into his chest, ready to fall back asleep in the boy’s arms.

“Will Gladys be here?”

“Oh my god, yes she will be here,” you say dramatically throwing your head back.

Theo grins down at you, leaning in and pressing his lips softly against yours.

“I’m only joking amore,” he says, pressing another kiss to the top of your nose.

“Of course Gladys would be here, she adores me.”

“Get out of my bed.”

A/N

My biggest regret in life, is being highly allergic to cats </3

[tender-rosiey]

I wish I could give you whatever the writer's equivalent is of an oscar for the way you write Sukuna, especially any iteration of dad!Sukuna! I'm bad with words, but your works make me feel 😁🥺💗💖💕💘💝💓💟❤💙💛🤎

I know you've been getting a ton of requests for Sukuna w/ his shy daughter, so feel free to ignore this one. But, I'd love to see either (1) Sukuna scaring her except this time she doesn't recover immediately/ as quickly as usual and he has to figure out how to make it up to her or (2) Sukuna witnessing a rare moment where she stands up for herself/ is brave and bold + his reaction

tiny tremors — ryomen sukuna x f!reader

a/n: AWW THANK YOU SO MUCH I AM SO GLAD YOU LIKE WHAT I WRITE 🥹 it means so much to me especially since dad!sukuna is smth i really love to explore <33 btw i also have the second request in my draft so no worries! 🙂‍↕️🫶

d/n clings to you, her tiny frame trembling as she presses her face into the fabric of your kimono.

her sniffles are quiet, almost stifled, but they tug at your heart all the same.

you stroke her hair softly, murmuring soothing words as you glare daggers at the towering figure across the room.

sukuna stands there, arms crossed and brow furrowed, his expression an infuriating mix of annoyance and confusion.

“what’s the matter with her?” he demands, his voice sharp, as though the answer isn’t painfully obvious.

“you scared her, that’s what,” you bite out, your voice tight with frustration.

he scoffs, crimson eyes narrowing. “scared her? over what? I didn’t even touch her.”

“she’s three, sukuna!” you snap, holding d/n closer as her fingers curl into your sleeve.

“you loomed over her like some nightmare and surrounded yourself with cursed energy! what did you think was going to happen?”

“it was a joke,” sukuna mutters, as though the very concept of fault is beneath him.

“she’s just too—” he stops mid-sentence when your glare intensifies. his jaw works, but he doesn’t finish the thought.

d/n shifts slightly, hiding her face further in your shoulder. sukuna’s crimson gaze flicks to her, a faint twitch in his jaw betraying some inner frustration.

he exhales sharply, almost as if shaking off the weight of the moment.

“what do you expect me to do?” he snaps, frustration evident. “I don’t know how to deal with this.” he gestures vaguely.

your gaze softens, just slightly. “you’re her father, sukuna. you don’t have to know everything, but you do have to try.”

your tone seems to chip away at his irritation. slowly, he lowers himself to a crouch, his massive frame somehow still imposing even at her level.

he leans forward, forearms resting on his thighs as he stares at the top of d/n’s head, her face still hidden.

“hey,” he says gruffly, his voice softer than before. “d/n.”

she doesn’t respond, her small shoulders rising as she inhales shakily.

“are you just going to hide there all day?” sukuna’s tone holds a faint edge, though it’s more awkward than harsh. “you’re acting ridiculous.”

d/n winces at his words, and you shoot him a sharp look. he doesn’t meet your gaze, instead staring at the small figure curled up in your arms.

he exhales sharply, dragging a hand down his face. “fine,” he mutters under his breath. “I didn’t mean to scare you. there.”

d/n’s grip tightens on your sleeve, and her quiet sniffles persist. sukuna scowls, looking away for a moment before trying again.

“it wasn’t…on purpose,” he says, the words' nature clearly foreign on his tongue.

d/n shifts slightly, her teary gaze peeking out from behind you. her lips tremble, and sukuna’s sharp eyes catch the movement immediately.

“you scared me,” she whispers, her voice soft and shaky.

sukuna’s brows furrow, his jaw tightening as he looks at her. “scared you?” he repeats, his voice almost incredulous. “what, you think I’d actually harm you?”

her small fingers tighten on your sleeve, and his eyebrow's furrow, his crimson eyes still fixed on d/n.

“you’re my daughter,” he says simply. “if I wanted to hurt you, I wouldn’t waste time playing games.”

d/n flinches slightly at his tone, and you sigh, reaching out to gently smooth her hair. “sukuna,” you warn softly.

he grunts, turning his head away for a moment before sighing deeply. “fine. listen, brat,” he starts, his tone as rough as ever, but he forces himself to meet her gaze again.

“I’m not going to scare you like that again. not because I’ve suddenly gone soft, but because you’re not supposed to be afraid of me. understood?”

d/n hesitates, her watery gaze darting between you and him. her voice is barely audible when she replies, “…really?”

sukuna clicks his tongue, his expression caught somewhere between annoyance and something softer. “yes. really. don’t make me repeat myself.”

she studies him for a long moment, her tiny fingers loosening their grip on you. “okay,” she whispers, finally stepping out from behind you.

“good,” he mutters, leaning back slightly. “you don’t need to cry over nonsense like this.”

d/n shifts on her feet before hesitantly reaching out, brushing her tiny fingers against one of his hands.

“you’re warm,” she mumbles timidly.

sukuna huffs lightly, hand ruffling her hair.  “of course I am. I’m alive, aren’t I?”

d/n giggles softly, her tears finally drying. sukuna straightens to his full height, glancing down at her before his gaze shifts to you.

“well?” he mutters, raising a brow. “fixed enough for you?”

"yes, I am proud of you," you hum. "lucky for you, she forgives quickly."

sukuna smirks, a playful gleam in his eyes as he folds his arms across his chest.

"forgives? it's not about that," he retorts, glancing back at d/n, who’s still standing by his side, her small frame shrinking slightly under his gaze.

"she knows better than to hold grudges."

d/n fidgets, her gaze downcast, clearly still feeling a little unsure. “I...I don’t like staying mad...” she mutters softly.

you watch the exchange, eyes drifting to your husband as your daughter finishes her sentence.

sukuna glances at you, his eyes narrowing with a hint of annoyance.

"what?" he snaps, though the edge in his voice isn’t as sharp as usual. "don’t tell me you’re gonna start fussing too."

you cross your arms, tilting your head with a smirk. “I think I’ve seen enough to know you’re not a complete ass.”

he only graces the reply with a roll of his eyes.

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[jarofstyles]

Pierced

Hi my ducklings! So this is part 2 of Pierced Through The Heart but it can be read as a standalone! I'm sorry it took me so long I've been hella depressed lol. I hope you lover her!

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WC- 4.4k

Warnings- mention of needles, piercing is done/described, oral sex

“Alright… So tell me honestly. No bullshit. How badly does this hurt?” Swinging her legs on the bench, she watched her boyfriend gather what he needed for the piercings.

After becoming his official girlfriend- which hadn’t taken very long- she was quick to cash in on her free piercing promise. The first had been a cartilage piercing, but this was definitely a bigger decision.

Her nipples.

Harry looked up from his preparations, a smirk playing on his lips as he saw the hidden nervousness in her eyes. She liked to play tough but he knew how she was. He didn’t tease her about it too much, but he knew. “It really depends. I’ve had a lot of people who say it doesn’t hurt nearly at all, some who say it does, but only a few who have passed out from it. But I’ll make it quick, promise. And afterwards, you’ll have something beautiful to show for it.”

“I mean, I think I’ve got a good pain tolerance.”

The shop was closed for the day, leaving only Harry and Y/N in the place. It was quieter than she would have imagined, only the noise of their chatting and the soft music on the radio in the back. It had been louder when she came to get her cartilage done when she had brought lunch for both of them a few weeks back. “Hey. wait.” Her brow raised. “Have you ever fucked a customer?”

“Well fuck, come right out with it then.” Harry chuckled at the sudden change in topic, looking at her with a raised eyebrow. Her lack of filter was something he did like about her though. “No, love, can’t say I have.” He walked over to where she was sitting on the bench, leaning against the wall next to her.

He reached out and brushes a strand of hair out of her face, his fingers gently tracing along her jawline. “But I have to say, the idea of fucking a customer who sits on this very bench, getting pierced by my hands, is a pretty tempting one.”

Y/N felt her face heat, his blatant flirtation still getting to her and making her feel giddy. Once the confession had been made, he had fallen completely into loverboy mode- with a libido that she heavily enjoyed the benefits of. “Hm.” It pleased her that he hadn’t had anyone here. She would have been jealous… but knowing he was flirting with the idea of doing it with her? That was a welcomed answer. “Maybe if you’re good and be nice to me when you pierce my tits, I’ll consider it.”

He was always oh, so nice to her. He worshipped her, really. It was insane, actually, sometimes making her wonder if her previous lovers actually liked her at all because the way Harry treated her seemed so genuine and second nature and yet so enamored that she was shocked. The smirk on his lips as he placed the sanitized packaging down on the table beside them made her tummy flip.  “Oh, love, I promise I’ll be extra gentle when I pierce those perky little nipples of yours. They’re my favorite too, y’know.”

“Mmm.” She pursed her lips to hold back a. grin. “You better. I’m delicate, you know.”

Harry chuckled lightly, moving away from her ear and looking into her eyes. He raised a hand to cup her chin, gazing at her like she was the only thing he wanted to look at in this whole world. She sorta was. “Alright, delicate flower. Take that top off and let me see those tits.”

Y/N couldn’t help her laugh, shaking her head as she undid the buttons of her shirt. Harry was the professional here, so he had given her the rundown on how it was going to work- including the fact that he couldn’t play with them for a while after to make sure they healed properly. He had mourned that but quickly got over it when he imagined her, audibly, having them pierced. Theh would suit her incredibly well.

“I’m still sad you’ll have to keep your mouth off of them for a while.” She pouted, opening her shirt to expose her breasts to him. “What a shame.”

Harry chuckled as he watched her, finding her cute when she pouted—he wanted to kiss that pout, but could stop himself from doing so. He stared at her bare breasts longingly, nodding at what she had said. "I know, it is a shame. I’ll get back to it soon enough, though."

Reaching out, he gently took one of her nipples between his fingers, giving it a soft pinch before letting go and reaching for the other. He did the same, his thumbs rolling over the sensitive buds as he admired them. "Fuck, they really are perfect. I'm going to love piercing these."

The touch had her squeezing her legs together. While it wasn’t the most pleasant thing to remember that her boyfriend had his hands on plenty other breasts when he had to pierce them, she assumed he wasn’t as liberal with the touching as he was now. “God, that feels nice.” She whispered, letting the shirt fall off her shoulders.

Harry's gaze darkened at the sight of her bare breasts, his eyes flicking up to meet hers. He realized he was getting a little ahead of himself, but he couldn't help it—she was just too captivating. "Yeah?" He smirked at her, letting go of her nipples before reaching up to play with her breasts in their entirety. He lifted them, feeling their weight in his hands, gently massaging with his fingers. He couldn't wait to do the same with the barbells in them.

“H….” Y/N’s voice was scolding but barely so, breathy as she leaned her head back and watched as he held them in his palms. His big fucking hands that felt so good whenever he touched her. “You’re being dirty… I hope you aren’t like this with your paying clients.” She teased.

Letting out a laugh, his thumbs brushing over her nipples as he teased them. "Oh, M’always the most professional with my clients. But with you...I can't help myself." He leaned in closer to whisper in her ear, his breath warm on her skin as he added "You're the only one I can be dirty with, Y/N. The only one I can touch however I want, say whatever I want. And right now, I want to bury my face between your tits and not come up for air."

“D’you think you should?” She whispered. “You know… Cause you’re not gonna be able to for a while while they’re healing… feel kinda bad that your favorite toys are gonna be for looking and no touching.”

 "I do think about it, believe me. I fucking hate that they'll be out of bounds for a while." He nuzzled into her neck, groaning softly as he pressed a kiss to the skin. "But at the same time, I'm fucking thrilled to get to see these beauties every day, even if it means no touching." 

“You are insane.” She widened her thighs for him to stand between her legs. “Luckily, I like it. So I give you permission to suck on them a little bit… one last taste for a bit.”

Harry's eyes lit up, and he didn't waste a moment in moving to comply with her request. He leaned forward, capturing one of the nipples between his lips and sucking gently. He could feel her arching into him, moaning softly as he teased the sensitive flesh.

Y/N let out a soft moan, the cool metal of his tongue piercing brushing against the pebbled nipple. his large hand held her breast in his hand, keeping it where he wanted as she leaned back on her hand, giving him access to her chest. “God, that piercing is the best thing you’ve done to yourself.” His tongue was the best one.

Harry chuckled softly against her skin, switching to the other nipple and giving it the same treatment. He was relishing in this moment, savoring the taste of her on his tongue. "I knew you'd like it." he murmured, his words vibrating through her breast.

Holding it still, giving his tongue free reign to tease the the sensitive skin. He could feel her heart beating faster under his touch, her breath hitching as he played with her. It was so lovely that his pleasure in giving was just as appreciated in receiving.

To Y/N, every movement of Harry's tongue sent sparks shooting directly to her cunt. It was as if every nerve ending in her body was concentrated on the tips of her tits, and the cool metal only heightened the sensation. With gentle yet firm sucks and teasing licks, he had her sensitive nipples hardened and tingling, the sensation making her arch into his face. One hand held the back of his neck, her own head falling back as he switched back to the other nipple.

“Jesus…” She laughed breathlessly as his teeth grazed the swollen skin. “Careful, baby. You’ve still got t’pierce it. Don’t make me too sensitive.”

Harry chuckled against her skin, pulling back slightly. "You think m’new at this? I know my girl’s tits, baby." He said, smirking as he pressed his forehead to hers. "I know just how far to push it." 

“Mhm.” She narrowed her eyes at him, reaching up to wipe some of his spit from the corner of his mouth. It was shocking how dirty he could get, considering how clean every other part of his life was. “Let’s go then. I gave you your time. I want my nipples pierced.”

Adjusting his position, albeit with a slight pout, he reached for the tray of sterilized needles and other equipment to get it all ready. He didn’t forget the main objective. "Yes ma'am, we’ll get right to it." He sighed, playfully saluting her.

It took little time before she had Harry carefully cleaning her nipples with a medicated wipe, making sure every inch of skin was prepped for the piercing. He then applied a small amount of numbing gel to minimize any discomfort, massaging it into her nipples with gentle fingers. He tried to innocently say it was to help it work better but she only had to give him a look before he let it be.

“Alright, darlin’. Gonna be just like how I told you, okay?” Giving her a reassuring smile, he settled in front of her. “S’gonna pinch, but it’ll be over quickly. When I start to do it, let out and breat through your nose.” Harry's hands were steady as he picked up the needle, focusing on her left nipple first. He pinched the skin lightly with a sterile clamp, ensuring that her piercing would be straight and perfect. He then aligned the needle, giving her the instruction to give her exhale before pushing it quickly through her skin.

She winced slightly as the needle pierced her skin, but Harry was right there to soothe her. He quickly attached the short piece of jewelry and moved to her other nipple, repeating the process. This time around, she knew what to expect and took it better than before.

Her agony lasted just a moment, but he didn't feel right about letting her endure pain alone. Once her nipples were pierced and the jewelry sturdily in place, he was thorough, making sure everything was clean and sanitary before removing his gloves and gripping her chin and placing a soft peck to her lips. “You, lovely, took that better than most people I’ve ever pierced.” His words were genuine. Y/N really had taken it better than grown men had.

“Really?” Her eyes had teared up a bit during the process and yeah- it had hurt.. But it was tolerable enough. She could feel it throbbing as the new piercings adjusted, Harry helping her pull her shirt back on. He had taken the liberty to button her top back, making her grin at how second nature it was for him. Harry liked to take care of her in any way, she was finding out more and more each day.

His thumb stroked over her cheek to wipe away a stray tear, letting out a little hum. "Yeah, honestly, you did amazing. I'm proud of you. Fuck, I bet you're a beautiful crier, aren't you?"

Y/N laughed, shaking her head as she caressed his jaw. The beard was growing in and she loved how it felt under her fingers as she ran them over his face. “You tell me everything I do is beautiful. I think you’re biased.”

Harry's heart warmed as she caressed his jaw. He fucking loved the feeling of her fingers against him. It had become second nature now for her to touch as she pleased and he couldn’t get enough of it. He leaned into her touch, nuzzling her hand with his cheek before pulling it down to kiss her knuckles.  "Yeah, m’totally fucking biased, but why the hell wouldn't I be?" He smirked down at her, stilling her hands and placing them both around the back of his neck before stealing another kiss. "I think you're beautiful, amazing, fuckin’ hilarious, smart as hell… sexy.” He smirked, making her scoff. “No, none of that. I mean every word.” Cradling her cheek, he took a moment to look at her before his eyes drifted down to his now covered work on her tits. “And M’more than honored that now a piece of my work is on your body.”

He watched as she looked down at her covered chest, he could tell she was admiring the work even while covered. "How do you feel?" He inquired lightly.

“I’m good.” It wasn’t really a pain now more than a soreness. But what she hadn’t expected was how it had… sort of turned her on. That pain and the reminder of it made her wake in a different way. Sure, they’d fucked around a bit and he had spanked her and stuff, but this sort of pain was different. Add in the fact that he had said in a fuck drunk lusty spiel against her ear the night before that he was horny over being the one to give her the piercing because it would feel like another claim to her, she couldn’t stop thinking about it.

So naturally, it was time to do something about it.

“I think you did a good job… so I think it’s time for your tip.” A mischievous smirk lit up her lips as she slowly slid to the floor from the bench, knees on the tile as she reached for his belt.

"Fuck, baby." Harry couldn't help but groan at her words, his hands finding her hair as she knelt on the floor in front of him. When she began to work on his belt, he felt his cock jerk to attention and he held his breath. “You don’t have t’do that, baby. I… I didn’t do it for you t’suck me.”

“I know.” Her warm hand ran over his cock, feeling it twitch up against her palm. “That’s partially why I wanna.” It was easy work getting his belt off, leaning in and kissing his cock over his jeans. “Is this an acceptable tip?”

Harry's eyes fluttered shut and he leaned back on the counter, his fingers slowly carding through her hair. "Y/N…" he groaned out, his hips moving forward when she mouthed at his erection over the denim. "…yeah, that's an… s’an acceptable tip. Only for you."

Harry's lips parted as he felt her teeth gently skim over the length of his cock through the fabric of his jeans. "Fuck, don’t…" Harry's hands tightened in her hair, his head falling back against the counter as she continued to mouth at his dick through his jeans. "Y/N, stop, please... I don't wanna cum like this. Want your mouth."

“Oh?” Her eyes lit up at how heavily it effected him. “What about this has you all worked up, baby? I’ve barely touched you…”

Harry's breath hitches in his throat as she speaks, his heart racing in his chest. He looks down at her, his eyes filled with a mix of desire and frustration. "It's because you're being so fucking gentle with me." His voice strained as she ran her finger over the waistline of uis jeans. Something about how she treated him, especially when she got that teasing look on her face, got him all riled up.

“Hm… you like me being all gentle, then?” Looking up at him through her lashes, she gently lifted her other hand under his shirt and lightly dragged her nails down his abdomen. “You like when m’nice and sweet to you?”

Harry shuddered at the feeling of her nails scraping against his skin, a low moan rising in his throat. "Fuck, yeah," he gasped out, fingers taking root in her hair. "I love when you're sweet to me… S’nice having such a sweet girl all for me."

“You’re so hot, H.” She grinned, fingers clasping on his button and slowly dragging down his zipper. “I love that you like that about me. Promise I’ll make this good.” his briefs had a wet patch from his cock leaking, her finger tracing over his twitching length. “Wanna be in my mouth?”

Harry's breath hitches as she speaks, his hips jerking forward as her finger traces over his leaking head. "Yes," he whispers, his voice strained. "I want to be in your mouth so fucking bad, m’baby..." He looks down at her, his eyes pleading. "Please, Y/N... just give me somethin’." His hands are tightened slightly in her hair, his body thrumming with need. 

Sharp jaw clenched, his body tensed as she slowly licked along the base of his shaft, lapping up the bead of moisture at the tip. He watches her, his eyes dark with desire, his voice ragged as he mumbled her name again, pulling her further in. Seeing him slightly desperate really did it for her- so she decided to give it to him. Slowly sucking the tip into her mouth, her tongue lapped over the leaking slit before she let herself sink down a little, pulling back with a soft ‘pop’ sound. “Like that?”

Harry groaned, his head falling back as she started to suck on the tip. "Yes, jus’ like that, baby. Suck me right into that perfect mouth.” Her tongue swirled around the head of his cock as she slowly took him in, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked. Seeing her lips stretched around his girth made him throb harder, his eyes nearly rolling back from the sensation. "That's it, sweetheart. Can I give you some more?"

Before she took him in deeper she nodded, letting Harry's hands find their place in her hair. Holding her in place as he started to thrust gently, his cock slid in and out of her mouth with a sinfully wet sound that had him reeling. His breath hitched as he looked down at her, his perfect vision as he watched his cock disappear between those perfect lips over and over.

Y/N looked like a fucking wet dream. Her lips were plump and stretched around his cock, her cheeks hollowing with every suck. Her eyes were half closed as she focused on him, her brows furrowed in concentration as she took him deeper. A string of spittle connected the tip of his cock to her lips for a moment as she pulled back before plunging back down, her nose nuzzling into the groomed thatch of hair on his groin. Her hands gripped his thighs for support, a blush rising on her cheeks as she continued to pleasure him, letting him lead.

When she took him all the way down, Harry threw his head back and let out a low moan. He felt her gag slightly, her lips brushing against his balls as she tried to take every inch of him. "Oh fuck, baby. That feels so fucking good. Knew you could do it. Tha’s my fucking girl." The guttural groan had her whimpering around him, teary eyes opening a little more to look up at him. It was one of her favorite parts about giving head- getting to see his pretty face contorted with pleasure that she was providing. 

Harry's thighs shook a little as she sucked him messily, her tongue working him over with each bob of her head. He felt himself getting closer to the edge, his breath coming in short, quick bursts. "Shit, sweetheart. M’gonna cum soon if you don't stop." Y/N was talented at giving head, better than anyone he had been with, and it was a blessing and a curse. A blessing because… obviously. A curse, because he didn’t last as long as he wanted to. He wanted to savor every bit of it.

Harry felt his balls tightening, signaling that he was about to come. He didn't want it to end so soon, but Y/N was just too good at what she did for him. He pulled her up and kissed her deeply, tasting himself on her lips. "Goddammit, angel."

She moaned as he kissed her, hand falling down to his spot soaked cock and stroking it in her palm. The wet click of her strokes meddled with their kissing, making her even more eager to finish him off. “It’s okay, baby.” She breathed against his mouth. “Don’t care if it’s quick. Just like making you feel good. I love how you feel in my mouth. Can’t get enough of you. Jus’ let me go back and suck you more, want you to finish in my mouth.”

Harry's breathing quickened at her words. "Shit. If you keep talking like that, I'm gonna fucking cum right now." He closed his eyes as she dropped back to her knees. It was only natural as she went back to sucking him, her hand firmly wrapped around the base of his cock as she gave tight strokes.

He really, really couldn't help the groan that escaped his lips as Y/N went back to sucking him. Her tongue worked its magic on his tip before she took him in as deep as she could, swallowing around him to make him hiss. He felt her hand moving in time with her mouth, creating a perfect rhythm.

Harry's eyes rolled back as he felt Y/N's warm lips delve down for a moment, licking over his sac before returning to his cock. He could already tell he wasn't going to last long, the feeling building in his balls. Grabbing onto her already messy hair, he pulled her closer. "Fuck, baby." He could feel his orgasm building, the feeling spreading from his balls and up his shaft. "Ah, fuck, Baby..” he whined, gritting his teeth. “M’gonna cum, keep fuckin’ doing that. My perfect girl, always make me feel so good. Filthy little thing getting on your knees for me after I pierce your tits. God, m’so obsessed with you." He was babbling a bit, but he couldn’t help it. It truly felt so good that he could pass out given the chance. 

Y/N could hear the desperation in Harry's voice, knew he was close. She loved giving him this kind of pleasure, the kind that made him lose it a little bit. Ever since their first time he had no qualms about showing her how much he adored her while she did this, and it only got better with time. As weird as it may seem, she really loved making him feel good, the weight of him in her mouth- but she wanted to finish him. She picked up her pace and used her free hand to fondle his balls.

"Fuuuck..." Harry hissed, his breath hitching as Y/N added that in, making him lose it. It was too much, too fucking much and he loved it. He couldn’t hold back anymore. With a loud moan, he came. It orgasm hit him hard and fast, his cock pulsing against her tongue as he released his load into her warm and waiting mouth. He tried his best to warn her, but he couldn't form words as he rode out his high. Y/N continued to suck him off as he came hard, milking the last of his orgasm out. She swallowed everything, looking up at him with a hum of satisfaction. Harry was utterly spent, and all that could leave his lips was a shaky grunt of her name.

That was the only thing she wanted to hear when he felt good.

Pulling off of him, a string of spit hung between her lips and the tip of his cock as she smiled up at him, utterly pleased with herself. Getting Harry to cum like that was a privilege, one that she was lucky enough to be the only one to do.

Letting out a laugh in disbelief, he grabbed a handful of Y/N's hair and pulled her up to meet his lips in a deep, messy kiss. He tasted himself on her lips and tongue, only adding to his post-orgasm haze. He held her there, kissing her sloppily as he tried to catch his breath. “Fuck me, that was incredible.” He mumbled into the kiss. “Can barely feel my fuckin’ feet.”

“Good.” Her smile was giddy as she pulled back to wipe her mouth, giving him her most innocent smile. “Hope you enjoyed your tip, baby. If I ever find out someone else did the same, I’ll kill them.” She said in an overly sweet tone.

He chuckled, pulling her close again, placing a sweet kiss on her lips. As if he’d ever need anyone else with the way she made him feel. "Only you do it for me, babe."

“Damn right.” She grumbled, pulling back and wiping her mouth. “Now that payment has been approved… I think I need you to feed me actual food, please.”

Still slightly reeling, he hummed, rubbing his hand over his messy hair as he watched her walk off to grab her coat. "Fine, fine. Let's get some food. Can’t let my number one client starve.”

[euphoria-looney]

Credits to the idea:

Batfam X Neglected Reader ( Squid Games)

Creds to the dividers: (?)

The Winner Takes It All by ABBA

When do humans get so desperate they give up their own lives for that small chance of money?

Money is a category in your history class dedicated to why money is the basis of your life. Economy.

I first witnessed someone leave everything had for money, my mother. When I was 5, I didn't know why my mother was leaving the manor with a huge suitcase, filled with cash.

My mother engaged to Bruce Wayne who only allowed her in as they procreated me. In her words, both sides should take responsibility, it takes two to tango, and why should she be the only one to deal with the consequences.

Which now is very hypocritical as she ran away taking everything but me.

I didn't want sympathy, but I didn't want to be treated like dirt for a mistake I didn't make.

For the next 13 years of my life, I tried to stay on the down low, no matter how many dirty looks, and the insults, not even when Damian would hurt me.

I just hoped they wouldn't mind if I stayed with them a little longer until I could find a stable way to leave.

That hope burst when Alfred came to my room and told me “Master Bruce has decided to kick you out and disown you, I'm so sorry, [name].”

I tried to somehow make it, promising myself, it was going to be okay.

I got into college, and the debt collected from that was massive, so I had to go get loans at the bank, and then get into a part-time job, but every day seemed like we were always getting robbed. My manager had no choice but to let me go.

“I'm sorry, sugar, but we aren't pulling in enough customers and I can't afford to keep too many employees, there's no easy way to say this but, you have to quit. I don't want to fire you, it'd look bad for any job you'd apply for next.”

I held onto her hand like a lifeline I begged and pleaded with no avail.

I tucked my tail in and went to the Wayne manor.

"Um, It's [name], could I... um..." I swallowed my words, afraid to say them, I mean, this was humiliating, 13 years since I'd seen them and the first thing I asked for was cash? "... borrow some money."

No surprise I was rejected, but that didn't hurt me it was the comments, how I was so much like my mother.

I waddled to the train station, if I was lucky, the train wouldn't be hijack or filled with gas tonight.

"Hey, you want to earn some money?" A guy next to me.

"No, thank you."

"10,000 dollars. Just a child's game"

I lifted my head to stare at him. I couldn't see his face, hidden behind a mask.

"It's a Korean game, visited it a few days ago, so would you mind playing it with me?" He gave an authoritative vibe, it made me want to back away, his aura was sinister.

I had already hit rock bottom, what could be lower? I hesitantly nodded my head.

I don't know how many times I lost, but I finally did it!

Handing me the cash and then handing me this weird card.

"If you ever need more, contact us." with that he walked away.

Third POV

“B, are you sure this is the right spot?”

‘Positive. Are you sure you want to join on this mission, Dick.”

Despite what anyone might think Batman, otherwise known as Bruce Wayne cares and loves his kids.

Changing into suits and golden animal masks, they went to the VIP room, make some bets on random numbers.

Oracle was doing the background work, hacking into everything, it wasn't like the movies and the stress was on.

The court of Owls was not just one villain working but a cult that was not only wealthy but influential, with their own members, called Talons who were armed and ready.

On the screen 456 players appeared.

“Today, we have prepared the game red light, green light. A child game.” The frontman introduced the V.I.P’s at the start of the first round.

[name]’s POV:

Waking up, the clothes I was originally wearing changed into the tracksuit outfit with a number on it.

A person caught my eye, it’s Astro! From the law department, I couldn’t help but approach him.

“What are you doing here?” Word got around that he was an academic genius, and many had hope for his bright future.

I could only remember how fond his mother was when talking about him, I thought I saw her the other day working.

“Oh, [name]. It’s been a while hasn’t it? What are you doing here?” He dodged the question.

“I… couldn’t afford college and took out a loan, eventually I got a lot of debt.” Our conversation got cut short as we headed to this random room.

Going to this machine it said ‘smile’

I gave a gummy like smile before making my way to the field

Playing red light, green light.

After explaining the rules everyone started running, nothing was wrong until a person got spotted moving during the red light, poor guy, going home penniless after making it here-

Spat

Oh.

There’s blood on my shoes.

It was like a stampede of people running to the door, stacking on top of each other. I was frozen out of fear.

Wha-

What do I do?

I’m afraid.

Someone tell me, what do I do?!

Before I knew it, I made it to the end.

Third POV:

Thankfully no one found the bat family suspicious or they would’ve noticed how they tensed up seeing as their daughter/sibling had the first contestant’s blood splattered not only on her shoes but also on her clothes.

A break had ensued as the game was over and everyone made their way to their individual rooms.

“What are they doing there?!”

“Should we stop it now?!”

“How?!”

“Quiet down!” Bruce had stopped the panic, but in reality he, himself didn’t know what to do either.

[name]’s POV:

Going back to the room, I felt like a doll and everyone sat on the floor.

The sickening feeling of seeing the gold lighting illuminating the clear pig, with money dropping down into it.

I could feel my stomach drop just thinking about it.

I didn't know what was happening until Astro got up and rebutted the guards.

“Clause three, The games may be terminated upon a majority vote, right?”

Thankfully, ending this sick and twisted game.

That didn’t last long though as a day had passed and I was back in this building. I think everyone who left was.

I talked to new people, especially this one old man who reminded me of Alfred.

“I could say the same to you. You’re young, and your debt is lower than most people here, so why continue risking your life for this money?” I shook my head, my face holding a sad smile.

“No matter how hard I try I just keep gaining then losing debt. But it’s different for you sir. Doesn’t the government give insurance and medicare for the elderly?” I held his hands in mine.

“The government isn’t as nice as you think, corrupt up in their high-paying jobs, but still greedy for more.”

As the games ensued I could feel myself deteriorate.

Third POV

Gripping onto the couch arms, and bouncing off one's feet could symbolize when someone is... anxious.

Or it could be showing anticipation.

So let's pretend that's what Bruce Wayne is feeling right now.

And if we asked his opinion on number ###, [name] [lastname]...

Most people would think, "Yes, he must be anticipating her death, how the blood would splatter, whether it be from losing a game or betrayal from another contestant." That's what most people would think of that entire family.

How could you not?

They shamed her, bullied her, and scorned her away from their home.

Wouldn't even provide financial aid much less.

Isn't that why she's here in the first place?

It was like they wanted her to grovel and die, die a death that would have no meaning, not even to this unforgiving world.

However, you'd be shocked that's not correct.

Anxiety is a scary thing it makes you make rash decisions. Good or bad.

It was nothing new to these vigilantes.

But oh. seeing her tired eyes, sweat dripping down everywhere, from her head to her legs. Her trembling form.

If you didn't know the context you'd already think she was a corpse.

No! That's wouldn't couldn't be true.

They couldn't allow it to be, she was going to be safe.

She had to be.

She was forgotten, but now, everyone's eyes were on her.

Anxiety is a scary thing, and with the current event, situation, there was nothing they could do but hope for the best, bounce their legs, and grip the couch.

-

It’s time for the next game.

“For this game we’ll be playing the marble game.”

—

There will be 2 endings choose which one. (I'll be making both.)

-> Thank you… for playing with me.

-> Astro!

Also, I love the idea and from fic from both @jellyfishmoon97 and @not-weirdoshrek

@holysoulsweets @sh4rk-k1d @sillysealsies @loomspuddle @cantfindmelol @alwaysholymilkshake @leitor-sonolento (I think these are all the ones that wanted to get tagged idk though 😍)

[hysteria-things]

Hii first of all i love your work, i have a request can you do a smut with chris and matt, like a threesome

PURE ECSTASY (part two)

read part one here

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: bf!dom!matt, pervert!dom!chris x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you’ve been feeling guilty for what you did, but you don’t have the balls to tell matt. one night, he shows up at your house… and he’s not alone.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: PURE FILTH, THREESOME, swearing, oral (female and male receiving), A LOT of degrading, some praising, p in v, cuck matt lol, spanking, daddy kink, sex tape, unprotected sex (nope!), hair gripping, ROUGH

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2,080

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: chris and matt are cocky asf in this and they’re a little mean🫣

honorable note: happy birthday @whatrulookingat11 🤭

arguing bounces off the walls in the living room, the three boys bickering back and forth with each other. well, it’s mostly chris and matt.

there’s a high chance they don’t even know what the argument is about anymore because this has been going on for minutes.

“you’re so infuriating.” matt says sternly to chris, who’s scrolling on his phone with no care in the world.

“then don’t piss me off and i won’t be,” he replies, not bothering to look at his brother.

“you guys give me such a fucking headache.” nick butts it, getting up from the couch. “i’m going to go to my room and edit. don’t murder each other while i’m gone.”

he walks out, matt still ranting as chris blocks his voice out.

he opens his hidden album, tapping on the video of you and him. he smirks, cutting his brother off. “want to see something cool?”

matt’s words are cut off, and he stares blankly at chris. “what?”

“come look at this.”

he’s hesitant, but slowly lowers himself down next to his brother. chris sighs, turning his hand away from his face so he can show matt. he makes sure the volume is high, but not so high that nick can hear.

matt’s face turns to disgust, because why the fuck could chris be possibly showing him a sex tape. “why the fuck are you showing me this?”

chris smiles menacingly. “you’ll see.”

the video portrays chris’s point of view railing into you, your moans and squeals coming out of the phone speaker. then, the camera moves to a face. your face.

you’re completely wanton, his hand gripped tightly on the top of your head. “say hi to matt, ma.”

“mm— h-hi, matt,”

matt rips the phone out of chris’ hand, taking a closer look at if what he’s seeing isn’t a hallucination. chris loves the thrill of seeing matt’s face change from confusion to shock in a matter of milliseconds.

“this pussy’s fucking incredible. thanks for letting me use her, man.”

there’s no way he can watch the whole thing, so he throws the phone onto chris’s lap.

matt’s weirdly calm, emotionless even. “what… the hell did you do?”

“i fucked your bitch.”

he wasn’t kidding when he said that if matt pisses him off he’ll show him the video. chris always keeps his word.

placing your now empty bowl from dinner down, there’s a knock at your door. you look at the time, and it’s pretty late on a weekday.

you get up anyway, walking over to the front door and seeing none other than matt and chris standing there. “hey?” you question, feeling intimidated.

“can we come in?” matt asks, as chris just casually walks inside and makes himself at home.

matt shrugs, closing the door. you walk back to the living room, chris scanning his surroundings while matt takes a seat in the sofa chair.

he extends an arm, indicating for you to come sit on his lap.

“so, uh… what’s up?” you ask nervously, sitting down on him. chris walks in front of you guys, glancing up at matt.

“did you fuck chris?” he asks, getting straight to the point. your eyes widen.

shit.

“n-no.” you stammer. “why do you ask? that’s crazy.”

his hand travels down your body, lightly squeezing your breast before putting his hand down your pajama shorts. he pinches your clit, making you yelp.

“i’m going to ask you again.” he says, just as chris starts to get on his knees. “did. you. fuck. chris?”

“no!” you protest, chris slowly pulling down your shorts and panties.

“we got ourselves a liar,” he smirks.

“i-i didn’t—“ you get distracted once he starts to kiss your inner thighs.

he chuckles, his breath hitting your folds. “she’s wet already.”

matt starts to rub at your clit and you pout. “you’re going to make this way worse for yourself, baby. just admit it.” he tuts. “or maybe i need to show you instead.”

“i think you should.” chris sighs.

taking his phone out of his pocket, he opens his messages with chris and presses on the video. he dangles the phone in your face. “ringing any bells? this was you a week ago.”

when matt says that, the man between your legs flattens his tongue on your pussy before licking strands.

you whine, turning your head before a hand grips your jaw. “look at it. look at how much of a slut you are.”

“i-i’m sorry.” you apologize, tears brimming your eyes. “i’m sorry, matt.”

he takes the hand on your jaw and brings it back to your clit, rubbing on it hard as chris inserts his muscle into your hole. “you don’t seem that sorry, since my brother is tongue-fucking you and you seem to be enjoying it.”

you moan once chris digs deeper, squirming on your boyfriend’s lap. “if you’re gonna act like a slut you’re going to be treated like one.”

you squeeze your eyes tight as matt rubs circles and chris eats you out like a madman. the video still plays, and you’re starting to replay that night in your head.

“daddy! g-gonna cum, daddy.” the speakers of the phone boom.

the mixture of chris’ filthy words he said to you last week and your sounds make you even more aroused, your legs shaking and squeezing his head.

“gonna cum nice and deep in ya, so you’ll be walking around for days with a swollen belly full of it. this is exactly how sluts like you should be treated. isn’t that right?”

“ngh— y-yes, daddy. cum in m-me, please.”

a string of moans falls from your lips before you cum all over chris’ face. he removes himself, giving you time to breathe.

he starts unbuckling his belt. it’s a little difficult being that he’s still on the floor, but now he’s sitting.

matt removes his hand, putting his phone away as well. chris grabs your arms and yanks you to the floor so you’re straddling him. “what-what are you—” you’re cut off by the stretch of him, pulling you down on his dick.

you look around with glassy eyes, matt now unbuckling his belt right by your head. “you already fucked him once. i’m sure you can do it again.”

chris thrusts from below you, your eyes immediately rolling back and moaning so desperately. the phone comes out once again and he leans back pressing record at how you look on top of him.

“f-fuck. chris—” his hand makes contact with your ass.

“try again.”

“d-daddy…”

“sorry, what did you say? i don’t think he heard you.” he smirks, looking at matt who’s rolling his eyes. “say it, ma. what do you call me?”

he spanks you again, and you cry out from the pain. “daddy!”

“that’s right, and who makes you feel this way?”

what a douchebag matt thinks, springing his dick from his pants and wrapping his hand around it. he’s looking at how pathetic you look, your mewls of pleasure turning him on. he pumps his hand, moaning lowly.

your sounds get drastically higher once your g-spot is hit, but he smacks your asscheek again. “i will spank you until your ass is numb if you keep ignoring me.” again… and again. “who makes you feel this way?”

you grip onto his biceps, scratching at them. “y-you, daddy. only you— shit!” you drag on, starting to bounce to the rhythm of his thrusts. you’re so fucking close.

matt whimpers from next to you, biting the collar of his shirt as he grabs your jaw to forcefully look at him. the way his hand is pumping and the muffle of his moans are wanting to send you over the edge.

chris moves his phone to the side to get a better view, trying hard not to get matt’s face in frame. to him, it’ll ruin the moment if he sees his brother in the sex tape. this is only for you and him.

“o-open.” matt stutters, his shirt falling from his teeth. you open your mouth, and his cum lands on your tongue. “swallow… good girl.”

he continues, “did you see that, chris? the slut listens to whatever a man says. do you just let random men fuck you? ‘cause it seems that way.”

tears leak from your eyes, shaking your head with a whine. “i’m gonna cum.” you whisper, matt’s grip on your jaw firmer.

“do it. cum on my brother’s cock like the whore you are.”

whimpering, you quiver and spread your fluid down his base. chris moves his phone to where you’re conjoined, your orgasm slowly dripping around him.

chris moans, his thrust becoming sloppy. “don’t you dare cum inside her.” matt warns.

“wouldn’t be the first time.” he thrusts up faster to get to his orgasm, the most shit-eating grin on his face. “or the second.”

matt snarls, but chris sighs. “fine.”

he lifts you off of him, shooting his release onto your stomach.

matt lifts you to bend you over the chair. you rut your hips back, not even noticing you did it until he hums of approval from behind you. “i think she’s needy for more.”

chris smirks. “i think so, too.”

you wince once he starts to push into you, adjusting to his size rather than chris’. he starts slow but gradually gets faster. your arousal drips from your pussy, and moans escape from your open mouth.

“fu-uck, baby. please don’t s-stop.” you whimper.

your moans turn to yelps the deeper he goes, your walls closing tight around him. in the middle of your moaning mess, a cock fills your mouth.

chris’ hand grips your hair, him now thrusting into your mouth at the same fast speed matt’s doing. “you’re getting too loud, ma. don’t want the neighbors to hear.”

matt’s hands grip onto your hips, grunting each time you clench. the vibration from your moans flows through chris’ body, making sure to capture what you look like taking two dicks at once on his phone.

“sweet thing just wants to be used.” he fake pouts. “am i right?”

he’s being a cocky mother fucker, being that he knows you can’t respond. you try to respond, but it’s only a gag and gulp.

they know your response anyway, which is: yes.

“i’d say that’s a yes.” matt says.

drool hangs from your chin, the noises of you sucking chris’ dick getting more intense. “she’s close.” matt points out. “squeezing me like she’s going to break me in half.”

“i think we’re overstimulating her.” chris grins, taking a piece of your hair and tucking it behind your ear.

each time matt thrusts into you, you choke on chris. you’ve never done something like this, but it feels so good. you cross your eyes, cumming down matt’s shaft.

it makes a mess on his and your thighs, the sound of wet skin on wet skin rubs you the right way.

“just a little more, baby. taking me so well.” matt praises, and you hum at the compliment.

chris tenses in your mouth, pushing your head further down to deepthroat him. “shit.” he curses under his breath. you gag, feeling his cum go down your throat.

some of it spills from the sides of your mouth and he pulls out. your spit mixed with his orgasm dangles on your face. you inhale sharply and cough, but it turns into a soft moan since matt is still fucking into you.

oh, and chris made sure to capture all of that, too.

he lets go of your head, saving the video, and casually picks up his clothes off the floor. your cheek falls to the arm of the couch, the way matt feels making your mind fuzzy.

he groans, leaning so his head rests on your shoulder as he peppers kisses on the bare skin. “i fucking love you.” he says through gritted teeth, pounding himself into you harder.

you whimper. “i love mm— you too.”

he exhales before painting your walls white, making sure you take it all. you sigh in relief and he pulls out, making sure to clean you up.

you roll over, smiling wide because of the pure ecstasy you just felt yet again. “are you kidding?” matt asks, looking in the direction of the kitchen. you squint your eyes at the figure.

chris is there, fridge open as his finger taps on his chin. “do you have anything good to eat? i’m always hungry after sex.”

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @braindead4l @whoreforchrissturniolo @r4iyaa @sturniolotriplettoplover @mattybswife @freshsturns

[thefreakandthehair]

jacket.

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles | prompts: jacket | wc: 999 | rating: teen & up | tags: alternate universe- no upside down, alternate universe- coffee shop au, different first meeting, musician!Eddie (if you squint), barista!Steve, platonic stobin, meddling Robin, flirting, fluff, getting together, requited pining

“Need me to grab the mop bucket?” Robin asks, leaning forward and into his field of vision. 

Steve snaps back into reality from an elongated daydream to find Robin staring at him, grinning maniacally. 

“Did I spill something?” He checks around the back of the display case, finding nothing.

“No, you’re just drooling, that’s all.” Robin shrugs and claps him on the shoulder. “You ever gonna talk to him?” 

“I talk to him every day, Rob—” Steve starts but doesn’t get to finish because the Him in question appears.

A chill blows through the door along with him, a dusting of snow stuck to his sneakers and dotting the shoulders of his leather jacket. Steve’s not sure how he’s even wearing that thing over what looks to be several layers of teeshirts and under a thick, denim vest laden with hand stitched patches. 

“That’s not what I mean and you know it,” Robin whispers and scurries away, smirking. 

He hates her. 

He loves her, but he hates her. 

“Hey, Eddie,” Steve welcomes his favorite customer, feigning normalcy because he’s anything but normal about this man he can’t stop fucking daydreaming about. “What’ll you have today?”

“Hmm,” Eddie ponders, throwing his jacket over the back of his usual chair at a bistro table by the window. “What was that gingerbread whatever the fuck you made yesterday?” 

Steve laughs, his nose crinkling. “I don’t think that’s what it’s called but if that’s what you want, I can make it for you.”

“Sign me up, big boy. Give me something hot and sweet,” Eddie winks and hands Steve a few dollar bills, their fingers grazing. Steve’s heart thumps in his chest as he tries to remember how to work the stupid cash register. Eddie pockets his change and heads over to the small table. 

Steve does his best not to stare, but the coffee shop is quiet today and he can only pretend to clean the countertop so many times until that becomes more obvious than Steve just… looking. So he looks. 

Like every other day for the last few months, Eddie whips out a notebook and sips the sugary abomination as he writes. Tapping his pen against the laminate of the table, scratching his chin, watching out the window, and then writing in unpredictable bursts only to repeat the cycle again and again. Steve doesn’t know anything about Eddie and asking what he’s working on in this private little notebook feels invasive. 

Not that he doesn’t wonder out loud when Eddie’s not around— it’s why Robin won’t stop teasing him. 

The snow continues to fall, sparkly fat flakes that stick to the sidewalk as Eddie works, and writes, and taps his pen just loud enough for Steve to make over the low hum of the holiday music they’re forced to play. 

“Fuck!” Eddie shouts, startling Steve out of his thoughts as he scrambles to shove the notebook into his bag. “Sorry, I’m just, I’m late for a really important practice and just realized the time. Thanks for the coffee, Steve!” 

“You’re wel—” The bell over the door chimes before he can finish the word, “—come.”

“Goddamn it,” Steve sighs. 

“Still nothing?” Robin pokes her head out from the backroom where she’d stayed hidden for absolutely no reason. 

“No, Robin. Still nothing. He’s a customer and I don’t wanna be a creep, okay?” 

“It didn’t stop you when we worked at the ice cream parlor. Or the video store. Or the—”

“I’ve evolved! Give me some credit!”  

“Oh, look!” Robin ignores him and walks past him to grab a leather jacket off of the back of Eddie’s chair. “He left his jacket! You can start a conversation when he comes back for it, right?” 

“Who do you think I am? Cinderella?” Steve laughs, but takes the jacket all the time. 

Robin rolls her eyes. “Well, technically, he’d be Cinderella. He left this jacket behind like some sort of metalhead glass slipper.”

“Let me try again: who do you think I am? A fucking Disney prince?”

“You could be if you tried harder.”

Steve doesn’t respond, just shakes his head again and quietly takes the jacket home with him for safekeeping. He’ll give it back to Eddie tomorrow, and maybe Robin will stop making jokes about Disney movies. 

Except Eddie doesn’t come back the next day. 

Or the day after that. 

A week passes, and Eddie still hasn’t come back for his jacket or his daily coffee that’s more syrup than coffee, but Steve keeps the jacket, brings it back and forth to and from work every day for over a week. 

It’s a bitterly cold morning when Steve eventually breaks. Eddie’s leather jacket hangs over his arm, like it has every morning, and he stops at a crosswalk to throw it on over his own bomber jacket. Warm and rich, he lifts the top collar up over his face to protect his frozen nose and inhales the remnants of smoke and musk. 

When he finally makes it to the shop, he breathes a sigh of relief that Robin cranked the thermostat. 

“There it is,” a familiar voice pops up behind him. “I thought I left it here.” 

Steve’s not cold anymore, hot embarrassment flushing from his chest to his cheeks as he turns around and sees Eddie there, sitting at a table with his notebook and a smile. 

“I was— I wasn’t—” He sputters. 

“Robin told me, don’t worry. Why don’t you uh, why don’t you hang onto it today and maybe give it back to me tonight? Over dinner, if you’re free?”

He can’t even be mad when Robin looks at him from over the counter with a very conspicuous thumbs up. 

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m free,” Steve agrees, maybe a bit too quickly but subtly has never been his strong suit. 

“Oh, and Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“You should wear the jacket,” Eddie's face flushes as he pulls a lock of hair just in front of his lips. “It looks great on you.

[kiwriteswords]

Unveiled

Masterlist || Ao3

AN: This has been on my to-write list forever...hope you guys like it!

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

Word Count: 4k

Tags/Warnings: Mild Injury, Mentions of Field Work, Secretive Behavior, Slight Jealousy, Light Swearing, Mentions of Emotional Vulnerability, Secret Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Marriage, Canon-Typical Themes.

Sypnosis: You and Aaron Hotchner have always been experts at keeping work and personal life separate—so much so that the team doesn’t even know you’re together, let alone married. But secrets can only stay hidden for so long, especially when small details start catching everyone’s attention.

The BAU bullpen buzzes with the usual hum of activity. Cases to close, profiles to refine, and endless paperwork to finish. You settle into your desk with a practiced air of nonchalance, tugging the sleeve of your blazer slightly to cover the delicate wedding band now gracing your finger.

The slim band--simple, not flashy, was perfect for both your personality and the line of work you were in. You could count the times on one hand how often JJ had to get her ring fixed or cleaned from the damage being in the field caused. You did not need diamonds or an extravagant engagement or wedding. You had everything and more with the man who had the matching band upstairs. 

You glance across the bullpen, up to Aaron’s office. He’s buried in a stack of reports, his expression unreadable, as always. His left hand is occupied with a red pen, and the thin gold band is barely visible but there nonetheless.

Your lips twitch into a subtle smile as you recall the whirlwind of the weekend: the drive to a secluded courthouse, the soft vows spoken just for each other, the quiet, private moment that bound you and Aaron together in a way only you two could understand--with Jack present, of course. Eloping had been a mutual decision, spurred on by years of hiding, countless near-misses at being caught, and the realization that you were done living for anyone but each other.

Ever the lawyer Aaron was and ever the practical woman you were, you knew marriage was essentially just paperwork. Personally, it did mean a lot more to the both of you in terms of commitment, so that’s why you both decided to do it on a whim, to begin with, but there wasn’t a need for the white dress or all the bells and whistles that you both found overkill. The slim gold bands were enough. The vows were enough. The love you shared was more than enough.

Now, the fun part began.

You turn back to your desk, shuffling through files with purpose as the team begins trickling in. The usual morning energy hums around you, but it’s impossible to ignore the slight thrill of knowing what you’re both hiding—and knowing it won’t be hidden for much longer.

“Hey, Y/N!” Penelope’s voice cuts through the air, cheerful as ever. “Doesn’t this day feel extra special for some reason? Like the world’s just radiating good vibes?”

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “Maybe it’s just you, Penelope. You’re the good vibes.”

She beams, clearly pleased with the answer, before skipping off to annoy Morgan. You catch Aaron’s eye for the briefest second, and the corner of his mouth twitches—a rare, subtle sign of amusement.

The team trickles in gradually. Rossi strolls past your desk, sharp as ever, with his coffee in hand. His sharp eyes flicker to your hand, and he slows just slightly, one eyebrow quirking upward.

“Nice ring, kid,” he says, voice casual but curious. “I didn’t know you were seeing anyone serious enough settle down.”

Your breath hitches for a fraction of a second, but you quickly recover, offering him an easy shrug. “I like to keep my private life... private.”

Rossi had been the hardest over the years to keep at bay. Somehow, it became second nature to be so…secluded in your personal life. It wasn’t that you or Aaron were not sharing with the team, but you never felt the reason to shake things up. You, with your budding career, and him, with his reputation as a leader, why change that? 

Rossi hums thoughtfully, clearly filing that information away for later. You glance over at Aaron again, his focus still trained on the file in front of him. His poker face is maddeningly perfect, but you know he’s listening intently.

It isn’t too long after that a new case brings you to the round table room. You can’t help but feel that there is still an unspoken buzz in the air. Rossi’s comment made you jumpier than you’d like. Not that you’re hiding anything, but the idea of change…makes you uneasy. 

Aaron sits to your right, perfectly composed as always, flipping through the latest case files. His left hand holds a pen, the thin gold band on his ring finger catching the light with every movement. You glance at it, a quiet rush of warmth filling your chest. Your husband. It’s still a surreal thought. You could feel the faintest hint of amusement radiating from him, even if his face betrayed nothing. The quiet thrill of your secret filled the air between you.

You refocus, nodding at something JJ says about an update from the field office, but you can feel Rossi’s eyes on you. He’s seated across the table, his sharp gaze catching every detail. A slow, knowing smile creeps across his face, but he says nothing—yet.

“Anyway,” JJ continues, looking up from her notes, “we’ll need to coordinate with local law enforcement to finalize those interviews.” She glances over, and her eyes snag on your hand mid-gesture. Her words falter for a split second before she quickly recovers. “Morgan, you’ll take the lead.”

Morgan nods, clearly only half-listening. His focus has also shifted—to Aaron, more specifically. His brow furrows as he leans back in his chair, arms crossed. “Hotch, you got something new going on?” His tone is casual, but his grin betrays his curiosity. “That’s one hell of an accessory you’re sporting.”

Aaron doesn’t miss a beat, his voice calm and measured. “I wasn’t aware my ring warranted commentary, Morgan.”

Morgan smirks, glancing at Rossi. “Oh, come on, man. You walk in here wearing a wedding band out of nowhere? You can’t expect us not to say something.”

Rossi leans forward slightly, his fingers steepled under his chin. “And here I thought I was the only one paying attention,” he says, his voice rich with amusement. “Seems our unit chief had quite the weekend.”

The rest of the team snaps to attention. JJ’s head jerks toward Aaron, her eyes widening as she looks between him and you. Penelope, sitting at the far end of the table, gasps audibly.

“Wait,” Penelope exclaims, her voice rising in pitch. “You’re married now? When did this happen? Who’s the lucky lady? Why wasn’t I invited?”

“I’m not the only one,” Rossi interjects smoothly, his gaze now fixed on you. “Looks like Y/N had a busy weekend, too.” He nods toward your left hand.

You glance at Aaron, a silent exchange passing between you. His lips twitch into the faintest of smiles—so brief it’s almost imperceptible. But you catch it.

Penelope’s sharp intake of breath breaks your focus. ���Wait a second,” she says, leaning forward, her gaze darting between you and Aaron. “Y/N, is that... a wedding ring?”

Your heart skips a beat, but you keep your voice steady as you respond. “What about it?”

Morgan leans back in his chair, crossing his arms and smirking. “Hold up,” he says, nodding toward Aaron’s hand again. 

All eyes turn toward Aaron now. He calmly finishes jotting a note before closing the folder in front of him. “Is this relevant to the case?” he asks, his tone perfectly neutral.

Rossi tilts his head, his sharp gaze bouncing between you and Aaron. His lips curl into a knowing smile. “Interesting,” he says slowly, leaning back in his chair. “Very interesting.”

JJ’s brow furrows as she glances between the two of you. Her eyes widen slightly as realization begins to dawn. “No,” she says softly, more to herself than anyone else. Then louder, “Wait a second—are you two—?”

You glance at Aaron, and he gives you the slightest nod. With a small sigh, you lean back in your chair and let the corner of your mouth lift into a smirk. “You really don’t know?” you ask, your voice laced with amusement.

Aaron follows up, his tone carrying a faint edge of dry humor. “I thought you were better profilers than that.”

The room goes completely silent as the pieces click into place. Emily gasps, pointing between you and Aaron. “No. No way. You two? Are you telling me you’re married to each other?”

Morgan bursts out laughing, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. “You’re telling me you’ve been dating this whole time, and none of us knew? I don’t believe it. You two are way too good at this.”

Penelope’s jaw drops. “What?! Oh my God, I feel so betrayed! How could you keep this from me? I should’ve been your bridesmaid—or at least in the loop!”

Aaron raises a hand, his calm authority cutting through the chaos in the room. “We made the decision to keep our relationship private to maintain professionalism,” he begins, his tone firm but warm. His eyes sweep the room, landing briefly on each team member before continuing. “This team works best when there are no distractions, and we both agreed that our relationship couldn’t interfere with that.”

He pauses, glancing at you. There’s a moment of silent understanding between you before you speak up, your voice steady but lighter than his. “It wasn’t about hiding, exactly. It was about making sure we stayed focused on the work that matters. But,” you add with a small, wry smile, “we eventually realized we didn’t need to keep it a secret anymore.”

Aaron picks up where you leave off, his tone softening slightly. “Especially now that we’re married,” he says, letting the weight of the words settle over the room. “We didn’t make this decision lightly, and we both value the integrity of this team above all else. That hasn’t changed, and it won’t.”

The room falls quiet again, the team absorbing the revelation. You can see the wheels turning in their minds as they piece together the years of subtle interactions, quiet glances, and the seamless way you and Aaron have worked together all this time.

JJ breaks the silence first, her expression shifting from shock to a warm smile. “Well,” she says softly, “congratulations. You both deserve to be happy.”

Morgan leans forward, his grin widening. “Alright, I’ll give you two credit—this is the best-kept secret I’ve seen in a long time. But man, Hotch, you’ve got some explaining to do. Married? Without us knowing? I’m hurt.”

Rossi chuckles, shaking his head. “I should’ve seen it sooner,” he says, his tone amused but approving. “Still, I can’t say I’m surprised. You two make sense.”

Reid almost looks relieved, “I thought I was the only one who didn’t pick up on things like this.” 

Penelope is the last to recover, her hands flying to her cheeks. “Oh my gosh! This is so romantic!” She gestures wildly between you and Aaron. “Secret agents in love, sneaking off to get married—it’s like a spy movie! Please tell me there are pictures. I need pictures. And cake! Why isn’t there cake?”

You laugh, finally letting yourself relax a little as you glance at Aaron. He gives you a small, almost imperceptible smile—one the others might miss, but you recognize instantly. Beneath the table, his pinky brushes against yours, a subtle reminder that you’re in this together.

“Alright,” Aaron says, his commanding tone bringing the room back into focus. “We still have work to do, and I expect everyone to stay focused on the case.”

Morgan leans back in his chair, still grinning. “Yeah, yeah, boss. But this conversation isn’t over.”

Rossi smirks. “Don’t worry, Derek. Something tells me there’s more to this story, and we’ll get the details eventually.”

You exchange a knowing glance with Aaron as the team begins to settle down, still buzzing with excitement. It’s out in the open now—no more hiding, no more secrets. Just you, Aaron, and the life you’ve quietly built together finally shared with the people who matter most.

The case wraps up after a grueling few days. The unsub is in custody, and while the tension of the investigation still lingers, the mood on the jet back home is noticeably lighter. The team is scattered around the cabin—Morgan and Rossi are in their usual seats, discussing the finer points of profiling techniques, while Spencer is engrossed in a book.

You find yourself seated with JJ and Emily at the small table near the galley. Emily is flipping through a magazine, and JJ is scrolling on her phone, but their attention shifts to you when you pull out your phone and casually unlock it.

“You know,” you say, leaning back in your chair with a small grin, “since you all feel so left out, I figured I’d show you some photos from the elopement.”

Emily’s eyes snap up from her magazine, and JJ’s face lights up with interest. “Finally!” Emily exclaims, leaning in. “I thought you were going to make us beg.”

JJ nudges your arm. “I’ve been dying to see these. Penelope’s already planning a post-wedding celebration for you two.”

You chuckle and swipe to the photo album. The first image you show is a candid one—a shot of you and Aaron outside the courthouse, his hand resting gently on your back, both of you mid-laugh. JJ lets out a soft “Aww,” and Emily whistles low under her breath.

“Look at you two,” Emily says, her tone teasing but fond. “Who knew Hotch could look so... human?”

You laugh, swiping to the next picture, a close-up of your intertwined hands with your wedding bands gleaming in the sunlight. “He’s full of surprises,” you quip.

As you share a few more photos, some with Jack, some Jack actually took of you and Aaron.

Aaron walks by, a cup of coffee in hand. He pauses when he notices the three of you huddled around your phone. “Are you showing them the photos?” he asks, his voice calm but tinged with curiosity.

“Of course,” you reply, looking up at him with a playful grin. “They demanded proof.”

Aaron hums thoughtfully, his gaze softening as he leans slightly over the table. “You should show them the photo from last year. The one from the Amalfi Coast.” There’s an amused glint in Aaron’s eye’s that makes you want to roll your own, but you satisfy everyone anyway.

JJ blinks, looking between the two of you. “Wait. The Amalfi Coast? Together?”

Emily narrows her eyes, clearly piecing something together. “Hold on. Didn’t you both take time off around the same time last summer?”

Before you can answer, Reid speaks up from his seat across the cabin, his voice laced with disbelief. “You mean the trip to Italy? I remember you both mentioned visiting Italy, but I never connected the dots that you were there together.”

Morgan, catching the tail end of the conversation, leans over the back of his seat. “Hold up—that’s what you were doing last year? You two were off in Italy, sipping wine and living the good life, and we had no idea?”

Rossi chuckles from across the cabin, shaking his head. “It’s impressive, really. I mean, a courthouse wedding is one thing, but hiding a vacation together? That’s next-level stealth.”

Emily laughs, gesturing toward your phone. “Alright, show us this Amalfi Coast picture. I need to see the evidence.”

With a shake of your head, you scroll back to the album from the trip. You find the photo Aaron mentioned—a picture of the two of you standing on a sunlit terrace overlooking the ocean, the breeze catching your hair while Aaron stands beside you, looking uncharacteristically relaxed in a linen shirt. You hand the phone over, and JJ and Emily lean in closer.

“This is so unfair,” JJ says, shaking her head with a smile. “You two look like you walked out of a travel magazine.”

“Yeah, I can’t believe we didn’t put this together sooner,” Emily adds, smirking. “I mean, Hotch in a linen shirt? That should’ve been the giveaway.”

Aaron shakes his head with a faint chuckle, taking a sip of his coffee. “I told you we were better at keeping secrets than they gave us credit for.”

You grin, leaning back in your seat and crossing your arms. “Well, now you all know. Mystery solved.”

Reid looks up from his book, still shaking his head. “I feel like I should’ve noticed. The behavioral cues were there...”

Morgan snorts. “Don’t beat yourself up, kid. They had us all fooled.”

JJ hands your phone back, smiling warmly. “Well, for the record, I’m glad we know now. You two really are perfect together.”

Aaron catches your eye from where he’s standing, his expression soft but steady. It’s a look that speaks volumes, and you know you’ll both carry this moment—this quiet joy of finally being yourselves with your team—for a long time.

As the jet hums softly beneath you, you settle into the warmth of the conversation, knowing that the life you’ve built with Aaron is now shared with the people who matter most.

When the jet touches down, and the team unloads into the bullpen, you barely have time to gather your things before Penelope corners you and Aaron. She’s been dropping comments all case long—about needing details, demanding photos, and lamenting her exclusion from what she’s now referring to as The Most Romantic Secret Ever Kept—but this time, there’s no escape.

“Alright, you two!” Penelope exclaims, her hands on her hips as she plants herself in front of you both. Her eyes sparkle with determination. “I’ve been patient. I’ve waited through an entire case, and now you owe me. Spill it. All of it. When, where, how? I need the full story.”

Aaron glances at you, his lips twitching in faint amusement. “I told you this would happen,” he murmurs under his breath.

You chuckle softly and look at Penelope. “Fine,” you say, holding up your hands in mock surrender. “We’ll tell you—briefly.”

Penelope’s expression brightens instantly. “Finally!” she squeals, clapping her hands together. “Okay, start from the beginning.”

Aaron crosses his arms, his authoritative posture intact but his tone softer than usual. “It started a few years ago,” he begins, glancing at you. “Not long after you joined the team.”

You nod, picking up the thread. “It wasn’t planned. We just... clicked. We kept things professional at first, but over time, it became harder to ignore. Eventually, we decided it was worth exploring, but we agreed to keep it private.”

Penelope’s eyes are wide as saucers. “Years? You mean to tell me you’ve been dating for years, and I had no idea?”

Aaron tilts his head slightly. “We were careful,” he says simply. “We didn’t want our relationship to interfere with the team dynamic or the work we do.”

“And we didn’t think anyone would benefit from knowing,” you add. “It was easier to keep it between us.”

“But how?” Penelope presses, leaning closer. “I mean, we’re profilers! How did you manage to keep it under wraps?”

You exchange a knowing look with Aaron before answering. “We’ve always been good at separating our personal and professional lives,” you say. “At work, we focused on the cases. Outside of work... we had each other.”

Aaron nods. “We were deliberate about our interactions here, and we made sure not to let anything slip.”

Penelope looks genuinely impressed, though she’s clearly not done grilling you. “So, no one ever suspected? Not even Rossi?”

You laugh. “Oh, Rossi definitely had his suspicions,” you admit. “But he never said anything outright.”

Aaron smirks faintly. “I think he enjoyed watching the rest of you try to figure it out.”

Penelope groans dramatically, throwing her hands in the air. “I can’t believe this. You two are like... spy-level secretive. I don’t know whether to be mad at you or impressed.”

“Be impressed,” you say with a grin. “It’s less stressful.”

Penelope narrows her eyes at both of you, then sighs. “Fine. But only because you’re ridiculously adorable together. And because I’m still planning a post-wedding party. You’re not getting out of that.”

Aaron shakes his head with a faint smile. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

With that, Penelope finally relents, though she shoots you both one last look that clearly says she’s not done asking questions. As she flounces off to her office, you exhale a soft laugh, turning to Aaron.

“Well,” you say lightly, “that went better than I expected.”

Aaron’s gaze softens, and he leans in slightly, his voice low. “She’ll be back.”

You laugh, shaking your head as the two of you head toward your offices. It’s out in the open now—your story, your love, your life together. And though you’ve enjoyed the secrecy, there’s something freeing about finally being able to share it with your team.

After a long day and an even longer week, the bullpen finally clears out. The soft hum of computers and the faint buzz of the overhead lights are the only sounds left as you and Aaron prepare to leave. You gather your things, adjusting your bag on your shoulder as he approaches with his jacket draped over his arm.

“You ready?” he asks, his voice low and steady.

You nod, falling into step beside him as the two of you head toward the elevator. There’s an unspoken ease between you; the weight of secrecy finally lifted. When the elevator doors close, Aaron glances at you, his lips quirking into the faintest smirk.

“You know,” he says, his tone laced with quiet humor, “we don’t have to stagger our exits anymore.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “No more waiting ten minutes so no one sees us leaving together?”

“Or arriving,” he adds. “No more separate cars or pretending to run into each other in the parking lot. We’ve been doing that for years. I think it’s become muscle memory.”

The thought makes you smile as the elevator dings, and you step out into the cool night air. You walk together to the car, and the rhythmic click of your shoes is the only sound. When you slide into the passenger seat, and Aaron starts the engine, the hum of the car fills the silence.

As he pulls onto the road, you glance over at him, the city lights casting fleeting shadows across his face. “Do you ever think about all the close calls?” you ask, your voice quiet but teasing.

Aaron’s lips twitch in amusement. “All the time. Like that day you got hurt in the field.”

You know exactly which day he means. It’s burned into your memory as much as his. “You mean when I dislocated my shoulder chasing that suspect?”

He nods, his tone softening. “I remember standing over you, trying to keep it together while the EMTs worked. I wanted to pick you up and carry you to the ambulance myself, but I couldn’t. All I could do was stay professional and keep my voice steady.”

You smile faintly, your heart tightening at the memory. “I remember how calm you sounded, even though I could see it in your eyes. You hated every second of it.”

Aaron glances at you briefly, his eyes filled with something deeper. “It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Morgan even asked me later why I seemed so shaken. I had to play it off as just another day in the field.”

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “Well, you were convincing enough. I think I was more worried about you slipping than about my shoulder.”

He lets out a low chuckle, his focus on the road. “That wasn’t the only close call. Remember Kansas City? The hotel?”

“Oh God,” you groan, covering your face with one hand. “I thought for sure Morgan would figure it out. He knocked on my door right after you left.”

Aaron smirks, glancing at you briefly. “What did you tell him?”

“I said I was up late working on the profile,” you reply, grinning. “Which wasn’t a lie, technically. I just left out the part where you were with me.”

Aaron shakes his head, amusement glinting in his dark eyes. “How about all the times we shared a room and no one noticed?”

You laugh, sinking back into your seat. “That was a miracle. Every single time. Can you imagine if anyone went looking for you in your empty room?” 

“Or walked past at the wrong moment,” Aaron adds, his voice tinged with humor. “I can’t believe we managed to pull that off.”

You grin at him, your tone teasing. “We probably wasted so much of the Bureau’s money on extra rooms we didn’t need.”

His lips twitch into a smirk. “I think we’ve earned it, considering the hours we’ve put in.”

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “Still, we were playing with fire. Like that time Rossi knocked on your door in Denver. I thought for sure he’d notice something.”

Aaron chuckles, his tone more amused now. “Rossi always noticed. He just didn’t say anything.”

“Probably because he enjoyed watching everyone else flounder,” you reply with a grin. “He was always a little too smug.”

The car falls into a comfortable silence as the memories wash over you both—the near-misses, the stolen moments, the countless times you had to act like nothing more than colleagues. Now, with the secrecy behind you, the memories feel more like a badge of honor than a burden.

Aaron pulls into the driveway, turning off the engine before glancing at you. His expression is soft, his voice quieter now. “No more sneaking around,” he says. “No more separate cars or extra rooms.”

You smile, reaching for his hand. “Just us.”

The two of you walk inside, your home warm and inviting as you settle in for the night. The conversation drifts back to the little things you had to do to keep your relationship under wraps—the cover stories, the excuses, the times you almost slipped. But the laughter and warmth you share now make it all worth it.

As the night deepens, you both revel in the freedom of no longer having to hide. It’s just you and Aaron, building the life you’ve always wanted… with Jack—together, out in the open, and exactly as it should be.

Tag List:

@zaddyhotch

@estragos

@todorokishoe24

@looking1016

@khxna

@rousethemouse

@averyhotchner

@reidfile

@bernelflo

@lover-of-books-and-tea

@frickin-bats

@sleepysongbirdsings

[jinx-isha-forever]

Kiss it Better

(Jinx x fem!reader)

Summary: you are making Jinx a knife in her workshop, but cut yourself in the process. Jinx fixes you up

Warnings: blood. hand injury.

A/N: This is an idea I’ve had for a while. Enjoy!

“Dammit.” The knife you were holding slipped. Cutting your hand in the process. Blood starts to drip on to the table.

“Shit no.” You quietly curse yourself.

You grab a random rag, trying to clean the mess.

You were no stranger to building stuff. You were actually pretty good at it.

However, this was your first time working in Jinx’s workshop.

So, you weren’t too familiar with all the different tools.

You also, were working too quickly, wanting to finish the knife, before Jinx got back.

Which led to the knife slipping.

You huff. Frustrated at yourself. You start to look for the first aid kit. Jinx moves it around daily. So, it could be anywhere.

You kneel down, looking through some boxes when you hear a noise……

-Jinx is coming-

You scramble to your feet. Putting your injured hand behind your back.

“Hey”a toots! Why are you in my workshop hu?”

Jinx walks in. Mischief in her eyes, looking you over.

“Did you just miss me that much?”

She says teasingly, getting closer to you.

You take a step back. Trying to stand in front of the unfinished knife laying on the table.

“Umm….hiii.” You say awkwardly, holding your injured hand tightly behind your back.

“You know me. I ahhh….just needed to ummm….” You continue to take steps back, until you hit the edge of the work table.

“Hey! Whatcha hidden behind your back?” She raises an eyebrow, a smirk on her face.

“Did you get me somethin? Oooor what?”

She presses. Getting even closer. Now only a few feet away.

“Come on….let me see. The suspense is killing me.”

She says dramatically, putting her lip out in a pouting manner.

“No it’s not what you think. I was-“

Jinx quickly grabs your shoulder, spinning you around, playfully giggling.

But stops when she sees the blood.

“Wh….what happen?”

You turn back around to look at her, holding your injured hand.

“Jinx I-“

“Who did this to you?”

Her playful demeanor is gone. Her voice is serous.

“Give me a name.” She demands.

“No it’s not like that…. No one hurt me.”

She looks at you confused.

“Then what…. I…. I don’t understand—“

“Accident…. It was an accident. I was making you a knife…and working to fast, trying to finish before you got back….. then the knife slipped and well-“

You stop rambling. Holding up your injured hand.

Jinx becomes lighter, letting out a breath.

“Aww….you made me a knife..”

“Surpriseeee…..”

You say, rubbing the back of your neck with your good hand.

Jinx is standing right in front of you. A soft smile on her lips.

“Y’know that’s really sweet of you trinket…”

She tucks a strain of hair behind your ear making you blush.

“Now….. let’s get you fixed up!”

Her eyes start darting around.

“There should be a first aid kit somewhereeeee.” She begins looking under tables.

“Aaaha! Found it!”

You look at the small container. It had neon paint splattered all over it.

You jump up on the work table.

“Okay. Let me see what I’m working with.”

She motions to your hand.

“I mean, It’s not that bad. I think I can just do it myself.”

You say looking at the bandages.

“Don’t be silly. I promise I’ll be careful. Okay.”

You pause, before nodding, giving her your hand.

“I trust you Jinx.” Your voice just above a whisper. Jinx’s cheeks flushed at your words.

She looks down at your injury.

The cut wasn’t too deep, but it ran across your thumb to the back of your hand.

“Soooo, we’ve definitely got to clean this. Which is gonna sting like pretty bad.”

You nod. Ready.

Jinx pours a liquid over your hand.

You slightly wince at the sensation.

She starts to softly blow on the wound. Which helped soothe the nerves.

“There we go….all clean.”

She glances up at you briefly.

“You know….you have really pretty hands.”

Her voice is soft as she holds your hands with care.

“Jinx.” you roll your eyes.

“What…..you do.”

She smirks.

“Now we just have to rap it up!”

She grabs some gauze and begins to carefully rap it around your hand.

“When I’m all done I’m gonna draw tiny little doodles all over hand.”

She says, poking your hand.

You let out a little laugh. Watching her wind the gauze around and around your hand.

“And there we go, all better! You’re as good as new!”

She chuckles lightly.

“How do you feel?”

“It feels a lot better! Thank you doctor Jinx.”

You say in a funny voice, as you begin to stand.

“Oh wait wait wait…. I almost forgot.”

She looks at you mischief in her eyes once again.

“I gotta kiss it better. Otherwise, all my hard work will have been for nothing.”

You pause. Before deciding to play along.

“Well, we can’t have that. My hand might fall off or something as a result.”

You look closely at your bandaged hand.

“Exactly!”

She holds your injured hand up kissing it softly.

“Oh and aw…give me the other one too.”She kisses your other hand.

“And just to be safe.” She gets up on her tiptoes kissing your cheek. And then the other one.

You are a blushing mess at this point.

“And who can forget……”

Her lips meet yours in a sweet kiss.

You can’t help but smile.

“You know I really love you right?”

You say, pulling away just enough to look into her eyes. You want her to know you mean it.

She nods. Putting her forehead to yours.

“I love you too my little trinket.”

[leaderwonim]

𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐘 — ten: the nishimura siblings are so back

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠. lee heeseung x fem!reader, park sunghoon x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲. Y/N always knew that her high school was dominated by wealth and privilege. Upon having a one night stand with popular athlete Lee Heeseung, she uncovers that Heeseung's friend group controls not only social dynamics but also school policies and local affairs, revealing a hidden world of power and manipulation behind their so called perfectly polished exteriors

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姉 (ane) = older sister in japanese

“You’re so annoying, you know that?” You huff as you help carry your little brother’s suitcases.

“But you loveeee me!” Riki’s irritating voice rings through the air, and although you want to smack him in the head for being such a nuisance, you’re genuinely so happy that he’s finally with you once again.

Unlike you, he wasn’t given a Decelis scholarship until months ago, which meant when you went to Korea at the fresh age of fourteen, only knowing your aunt who lived there because of work.

“Can we get ramyeon?” Riki questions, only to get hit in the head by you. “Ow!”

“Yah, I picked you up at 4 in the morning at the airport and you want me to get you ramyeon?!”

Riki raises his hands in surrender, eyes rolling to the back of his head. “Geez, you could’ve just said no.”

“Shut up and put your suitcase in the trunk!” You turn around to inspect him one more time. “And since when did you get so tall?”

He grins. “I’m 6’2 now, much taller than you.”

You raise your hand once again, and he quickly puts away his suitcases knowing you might smack him again if he keeps teasing you.

Then in classic Riki fashion, the 6’2 boy giddily runs to the passenger seat when he’s done.

You turn on the engine, quietly admiring the quiet early morning glow.

“So ane, you got a boyfriend?”

It was going to be a long ride home.

As soon as Riki got settled into his new room, he was quickly asleep, his quiet snores filling the room.

“You sure you can go to school tomorrow Y/Nie?” Your aunt asks you with a concerned look. “If you’re too tired from picking Riki-kun, you can always take a day off, you’ve been working hard anyways.”

You smile gratefully at your aunt, but slowly shake your head. “It’s okay auntie, I can’t miss a day of studies.”

“You study too hard.” The woman mutters before patting your back and heading back to bed.

When you got to school, Heeseung immediately greets you at the door. He usually wasn’t early, which perked your interest.

You bite the inside of your cheek, choosing to ignore him and walk by instead of acknowledging his wave.

He frowns. “Hey, hey, what’s up?” He says, suddenly standing in front of you.

“Nothing Heeseung.” You say, trying to walk pass him to no avail.

“I didn’t see you at the party yesterday, who drove you home?”

“Not like it was any of your business but Sunghoon.”

You could feel Heeseung tense up by your words. “Sunghoon?”

“That’s what I said.”

Heeseung scoffs, tongue poking the inside of his cheek in annoyance. “The same one who went with Hanni right after your little rooftop hangout, right? That Sunghoon?”

“Why does it matter?” You say exasperatedly. “You are no better than him.”

You finally are able to push past him, making him stumble back in shock.

“Y/N? Hey! What do you mean?”

You have never felt more grateful for the bell than you did at that moment, which signaled the beginning of first period.

Heeseung’s shoulders slump in defeat, feet turning around to go to his physics class, which was on the opposite side of your first class, creative writing.

You enter, scanning the room for a free seat. The class was a first come first serve regarding seating, so everyday was basically a fight for a good seat.

The only free seat was next to Sunghoon, who was already looking at you.

“Get a good sleep?” He asks, but you stay silent.

Suddenly, he leans closer and closer toward your face—until—

“You got an eyelash,” he whispers before taking it off your face.

You try not to blush, not wanting Sunghoon to see how even his little actions affected you.

“Why are you being nice to me Sunghoon?” You say with a sigh, looking directly into his eyes.

“Cause why wouldn’t I?”

The professor enters the room a second later, already beginning today’s lesson.

And although you and Sunghoon don’t say anything else, the silence is enough for the both of you.

AUTHOR’s NOTE: nishimura siblings alr friendly bickering yess and ynhoon??

[fr0stf4ll]

A court of Shadows and Moonlight - Part 15

paring; Azriel x reader

summary; In the wake of looming war and changing traditions, a gifted healer returns to the Night Court after centuries of wandering the continents. Tasked with stepping into Madja’s legendary role, she must guide reluctant healers, soothe wounded warriors, and face the entrenched prejudice of Illyrian leaders. But as she mends torn wings and broken spirits, an unexpected bond awakens between her and the Night Court’s enigmatic Spymaster. With rivalries simmering and a dangerous threat looming on the horizon, she must reconcile duty and desire, learning that true healing can extend beyond flesh and bone—if she dares to embrace the light hidden among the shadows.

word count ; 6k

Trigger warning; anxiety, panic attack

notes; Hey everyone, hope you had a great week ! I'm back with a new chapter hehe. This chapter is covering pretty hard topics so please be careful while reading it. I think it's something that we all expected to happened at some point... Still I hope you will enjoy it ! bisous and see you next week ;)

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The sky was painted in hues of deep blues and soft golds as the sun barely began its ascent over Velaris. The cool morning breeze brushed against your skin as Azriel landed smoothly in front of the clinic, his arms still securely wrapped around you.

You had kissed him before he left, your fingers lingering on his before he took off, his powerful wings spreading wide as he ascended into the sky. You watched him until he was no more than a speck in the distance, disappearing beyond the towering peaks of the Illyrian mountains.

A soft sigh left your lips. What the hell had the past few days been?

As you turned to enter the clinic, the warm scent of herbs and fresh linens greeted you. The usual quiet hum of early morning preparation filled the halls as healers moved about their duties.

And right at the front desk, arms crossed and eyes narrowed in playful accusation, stood Elira.

“Well, well,” she drawled, an eyebrow arching in amusement. “If it isn’t Y/N—or someone who just took her place because I refuse to believe that the Y/N I know suddenly started going out with someone and miraculously stopped working herself into an early grave.”

You let out a soft laugh, stepping past her and setting your satchel on the counter. “What can I say? Maybe I was kidnapped and replaced with someone new.” You smirked, shooting her a wink.

Elira gasped dramatically, placing a hand over her chest. “So, you mean to tell me that there is a version of Y/N out there still holed up in this clinic, working until collapse? And here I thought the world had ended when you left early last night.”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes. “Well, that version of me is still in here somewhere, I assure you. I just… found some balance.”

She snorted, shaking her head. “Balance? More like Azriel.”

You shot her a playful glare, but before you could retort, she slid a note across the counter.

“Speaking of which,” she continued, “you got a message from the High Lady this morning. Apparently, her sister is waiting for you today for an examination.”

You nodded, taking the note and scanning the brief, neat handwriting. Elain. Waiting for you at the town house today.

Elira watched your expression carefully before tilting her head. “What’s going on?”

You exhaled and leaned against the counter, tapping the note against your palm. “She had a vision last time. But unlike usual, this one caused convulsions.”

Elira’s expression shifted instantly, her usual playful demeanor replaced by concern. “Oh,” she said simply, straightening. “It’s the seer one, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” you confirmed. “Elain.”

She frowned, rubbing her temple. “Convulsions are bad.”

“I know,” you murmured. “It’s rarely a good sign.”

Elira clicked her tongue, thinking. “Did she say what the vision was about?”

You hesitated.

Yes.

But saying it aloud—admitting that the vision had been about you—felt like opening a door you weren’t ready to walk through.

“She hasn’t shared all the details yet,” you finally said, voice measured. 

Elira studied you for a moment before nodding. “Alright. Just be careful.”

You gave her a reassuring smile, then glanced around the clinic, feeling that familiar pull to stay and work through the growing list of tasks. But you had a promise to keep.

You grabbed your satchel and pushed off the counter. “Let me know if anything urgent comes up. Otherwise, I’ll be back later.”

Elira smirked, crossing her arms. “Sure, sure. Go off, be a real person for once. But if you start slacking too much, I will drag you back here myself.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Duly noted.”

With that, you headed for the town house, the weight of the day settling onto your shoulders—but beneath it, beneath all the uncertainty, a quiet warmth remained.

Because somewhere above the mountains, Azriel was flying.

And tonight, he’d be coming back to you.

The town house was still. A rare, peaceful quiet settled over the space, the kind that only came when the house was nearly empty. You stepped inside, closing the door softly behind you, and let out a slow breath. The air carried the familiar scent of cedar and old books, a faint trace of lavender from the fresh-cut flowers Elain often arranged.

It felt... open. Welcoming in a way few places did.

For years, this house had been a place of gathering, of warmth, of family. And though you had never lived here, never truly claimed it as yours, it still held that same familiarity. Like a place that had always been waiting for you to step inside, to belong.

You glanced up the stairs. Nyx was still asleep, the silence thick enough to tell you that much. The others were all gone—Nesta training, the rest of the Inner Circle in Hewn City. That left only you and Elain.

You made your way through the quiet halls, the soft sound of your steps the only disturbance in the stillness. Reaching Elain’s door, you knocked gently.

A pause. Then, after a moment, her voice carried through. “Come in.”

You pushed the door open, stepping inside.

Elain was seated by the window, a book resting in her lap, her delicate fingers lightly tracing the edges of the pages. Sunlight streamed in, catching the golden hues in her hair, casting a warm glow over her soft features. She was beautiful. It was impossible to deny. No wonder Azriel had fallen for her.

You shoved that thought aside, forcing yourself to focus.

Offering her a soft smile, you spoke gently, “How are you feeling?”

She didn’t look at you immediately, her eyes still fixed on something beyond the window, something far away. But after a moment, she nodded slightly. “I’m fine.”

Not exactly convincing.

You exhaled, moving further into the room. “I’d like to take a look at you. Make sure everything’s alright after your last vision.” You gestured to the bed. “It’ll be easier if you lie down.”

Elain hesitated. Just for a second, but it was enough.

Then, she set her book aside and moved to the bed, sitting stiffly as you pulled a chair closer.

You worked in silence, your hands steady as you checked her pulse, her breathing, running your fingers lightly along the base of her skull to check for tension. She remained mostly still, barely responding, her posture rigid.

“Elain,” you murmured, trying to keep your tone patient, professional. “I need you to talk to me. Answer my questions.”

She gave a small nod but said nothing.

You sighed, brushing a stray piece of hair behind your ear. If she didn’t want to cooperate, that was her problem. You were only trying to help.

“Did you feel anything unusual before the vision started?” you tried again.

A small shake of the head.

“Have you had any more since then?”

A pause. Then, another slight shake.

“Elain—”

“I don’t need a healer,” she interrupted, her voice quiet but firm.

You stilled.

Her brown eyes finally met yours, something guarded lurking beneath the softness.

You studied her for a long moment. Then, keeping your voice even, you said, “That’s not for you to decide. If your visions are causing convulsions, that’s something we need to address.”

She looked away. “It was a one-time thing.”

You held back a sigh, your patience thinning. “You don’t know that.”

Another beat of silence.

You didn’t miss the way her fingers curled slightly in the sheets, the tension in her shoulders, the way she was barely holding herself together.

And suddenly, you understood.

It wasn’t you she didn’t want here.

It was the fear. The vulnerability.

Elain Archeron, the one who had spent years trying to carve out something normal, something stable, was losing control over the one thing she had left—her own mind.

Softening your tone, you said, “I’m not here to force you into anything. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed.

For a moment, you thought she might let you in, might tell you something real. But then, she only nodded, a practiced, polite nod, and murmured, “I know.”

You watched her for another long moment before exhaling through your nose.

Fine. If she didn’t want help, you weren’t going to force it.

Something shifted in Elain’s expression. The soft, polite mask she had been wearing cracked just enough for something sharper, something venomous, to seep through.

Her brown eyes darkened as she spoke, her voice quiet but cutting.

"Do you actually think you can replace me?"

You stilled.

"For Azriel, I mean," she clarified, tilting her head slightly. "He loves me. He still does. I know that."

You didn’t move, didn’t blink.

Elain’s lips pressed together before she continued, her words deliberate. “He pulled away because of Rhysand—I know that. But you, Y/N, should remember one thing.”

The air in the room felt colder.

"You are going to die soon."

Her words were so matter-of-fact, so absolute, that they sent a chill down your spine. But you didn’t react. You kept your face carefully composed, unreadable.

Elain took your silence as permission to keep going.

"We both saw it," she murmured, her fingers brushing over the fabric of her dress. "The moment you will be heartless, dead. And when that happens—when you are nothing but a lifeless body—who do you think Azriel will turn to for comfort?"

Your fingers curled slightly at your sides, but still, you didn’t let it show.

"Don’t get your hopes up," she whispered, her eyes gleaming with something almost triumphant. "He’s only sticking with you until then. After that, you’ll be nothing. No one will remember you, just a forgotten memory lost to time.”

Silence settled between you, thick and suffocating.

Slowly, you stood, keeping your expression blank, unreadable. You met her gaze with something colder, something far older than she could comprehend.

Your voice, when you finally spoke, was steady. Controlled.

“I don’t know what it is about your family that makes everyone treat you like a spoiled child,” you said, tilting your head slightly, “but I’m not here to do the same.”

A flicker of something crossed her face—shock, perhaps.

“I don’t know how you were raised,” you continued, stepping away from her bed, “but where I come from, people tend to show some respect to the ones who save their lives.”

Elain’s lips parted slightly, but you didn’t give her a chance to speak.

"Whatever is going on in that little head of yours," you said, voice cool, “you need to stop.”

She inhaled sharply, as if to protest, but you simply shook your head.

“Grow up, Elain.” Your tone didn’t waver. “I’m twenty times your age. I’ve seen enough girls like you to know that the only thing you sound like right now is a bitter, jealous fool.”

She flinched, but you continued.

“If you want to throw your life away, then fine. But when you collapse in your next vision, don’t expect me to be there to save you.”

You turned for the door.

Elain tried to say something, but you cut her off with one final, emotionless glance over your shoulder.

“And about Azriel?” You smirked, but there was no humor in it. “Like you said—I’ll be too dead to care.”

Then you walked out, leaving her in stunned silence.

Your mind was a battlefield, a relentless storm of thoughts crashing into each other, over and over, like waves against jagged rocks.

She was right.

Elain was right.

You were going to die.

The words echoed in your skull, bouncing off the walls of your mind, multiplying with each breath you took. The air felt heavier, the weight of inevitability pressing down on your chest until it was almost unbearable.

You are going to die soon.

Your fingers dug into the wooden surface of your desk, trying to ground yourself, trying to convince yourself that this wasn’t true, that you still had time. But the more you tried to push the thought away, the louder it became.

What if it wasn’t just a vision?

What if it was fate?

What if it was the Mother herself, setting a fixed end for you?

What if—what if everything you had built, everything you had worked for, everyone you had come to care for—what if it was all leading up to nothing? To an end that no one could stop?

You will be heartless.

You shuddered, suddenly hyper-aware of your own heartbeat, the rhythmic drum inside your chest. One day, it would stop. One day, it wouldn’t be there anymore. One day, you wouldn’t be here anymore.

Your breath hitched. The edges of your vision blurred as your hands began to tremble.

You needed air.

You needed out.

Now.

You grabbed your coat with frantic fingers, barely registering Elira’s voice calling after you as you shoved past her.

“Y/N? Are you—”

You didn’t answer. You barely even heard her.

Your feet carried you through the halls, down the stairs. You crashed into one of the younger healers, mumbling an apology you couldn’t even remember seconds later.

The doors to the clinic burst open, and you ran.

You didn’t know where you were going. You didn’t care.

You ran through the streets of Velaris, past familiar buildings and warm lights, past the scent of fresh bread from the bakeries, past the murmurs of lovers walking hand in hand, past the echoes of laughter spilling from taverns.

None of it reached you.

Your thoughts were screaming too loudly.

You ran until the city disappeared behind you, until the cobbled streets turned into dirt paths, until trees surrounded you on all sides.

You ran until your lungs burned, until your legs screamed for you to stop, until the weight in your chest became too much to bear.

And when you couldn’t take it anymore—when the world felt like it was closing in, when your breath came in short, desperate gasps—you fell.

Your knees hit the cold, damp earth of a clearing.

The silence of the forest swallowed you whole.

You curled forward, gripping the ground as if it could hold you together. As if it could keep the panic from swallowing you whole.

But it was still there. The truth. The inescapable reality.

You were going to die.

The moment your knees hit the ground, everything shattered.

The world twisted, spinning and turning, the trees around you bending at impossible angles, the sky shifting and warping as if reality itself was breaking apart. Your breath came in short, sharp gasps—too fast, too shallow. Your chest tightened, a crushing weight pressing down on your ribs like they would crack beneath the pressure.

You are going to die.

The words thundered in your mind, over and over again, a merciless mantra that you couldn’t escape.

You are going to die.

And it wasn’t just that. It wasn’t just the knowledge of your end—it was the inevitability of it. It was the way everyone else had already started preparing for it.

Azriel.

Azriel, who looked at you with that careful tenderness, with that unreadable depth. Azriel, who held you at night, who kissed you like you were his whole world.

He only pities you.

The voice slithered into your mind, venomous and cruel.

He doesn’t love you. Not like you love him.

You clutched at your chest, fingers digging into the fabric of your coat as your heart pounded against your ribs, too fast, too wild.

He will go back to her.

A choked sob left your throat.

He was always meant to be with her. He loves her. He will always love her. And when you’re gone, when your body is cold and forgotten, he will go back to her. Back to what was meant to be.

The voices were multiplying now, a cacophony of whispers, of taunts, of truths you had tried so hard to ignore.

None of them truly love you.

You shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut, gripping the damp earth beneath you.

Rhys and Feyre? They are kind, yes. But it is only pity.

Your breathing hitched, your throat tightening as your fingers curled deeper into the soil.

Cassian, Mor, Amren? You are just another friend to them. Someone temporary. Someone to mourn for a brief moment before they move on.

No one ever truly loved you.

A violent shudder wracked your body, the weight of the words pressing down on you, suffocating you.

Look at you.

You squeezed your eyes shut, nails digging into your palms.

Who would ever want someone like you?

The breath you dragged in was sharp, broken, as if your own body was fighting against you.

Your parents left you.

Your stomach twisted painfully, nausea rising in your throat.

No one ever adopted you. No one ever wanted you. Not then, not now.

Your fingers dug into the ground so hard that your nails scraped against stone, the sharp pain barely registering against the flood of voices in your mind.

Even the Mother made a joke out of you.

A ragged sob tore through you.

She brought you back only to throw you away again.

Your body trembled, every breath a struggle, every thought a war you couldn’t win. You were drowning, suffocating beneath the weight of it all.

Maybe… maybe it would be easier to stop fighting.

Maybe it would be better to just… let it happen.

To accept what was coming. To let go.

Because what was the point?

What was the point of clinging to a life that had already been written off?

You clutched at your chest, gasping for air, for something, for anything to pull you out of this spiral. But there was nothing.

Just you.

Just you and the knowledge that this would end.

That you would end.

And there was nothing you could do to stop it.

The moment Azriel's arms wrapped around you, it was as if the world finally stopped crumbling.

You barely registered his presence at first, the overwhelming noise in your mind too deafening, too consuming. But his warmth—his touch—broke through.

“Hey, hey, Y/N,” his voice was urgent, but gentle, his grip firm as he held you against his chest. “Calm down, love. Just breathe.”

But you couldn’t. Nothing made sense. Your hands flew to your ears, trying to block out the voices, the relentless, merciless voices that wouldn’t stop whispering in your head.

Azriel’s hands came up to yours, gently but insistently pulling them away. “Look at me,” he urged, his golden eyes searching yours. “Just look at me, Y/N.”

You tried. Mother above, you tried. But your vision blurred with tears, your breath coming in sharp, ragged gasps, and you could barely even comprehend how he was here—why he was here.

How did he find you?

Why had he come?

Your body shook violently, the last remnants of the panic attack wracking through you, but Azriel held you through it. Unmoving. Steady. His arms wound tighter around you, his warmth bleeding into your freezing skin.

“Breathe with me,” he murmured, his lips pressing against your hair, his voice an anchor in the storm. “In… and out.”

He breathed in deeply, exaggerating the rise and fall of his chest. You tried to follow, but your breaths still hitched, your body still trembling.

But he didn’t let go.

He rocked you slightly, his hands running up and down your back, brushing away your tears as they continued to fall. His fingers found your face, tilting your chin up to him, his thumbs swiping the wet trails from your cheeks.

“Shhh, love,” he whispered, pressing his lips to your forehead. “You’re safe. You’re here. Just stay with me.”

The last of your ragged breaths shuddered out of you, and you finally—finally—managed to look at him.

Azriel’s face was tight with worry, his brows furrowed, his golden eyes dark and searching.

“What happened?” he murmured, his voice so soft, as if one wrong move would break you apart again. “Talk to me.”

You swallowed hard, trying to find the words, but they lodged in your throat, thick and unbearable. Your lips trembled, your chest still rising and falling too fast.

Azriel’s hands cupped your face again, his thumb tracing your cheek. Then, gently, he kissed you—just a soft, featherlight press of his lips against your damp skin. Another on your forehead. Then your temple.

He was showing you love.

You weren’t sure when you started crying again, but it was different this time—less panicked, more relieved.

Azriel rested his forehead against yours, his own breathing uneven, his hands still holding you like you might slip away if he let go.

“Hey, love,” he murmured, his voice raw. “What’s going on?”

And this time, you could answer.

From the moment they had returned from the Court of Nightmares, Azriel felt it.

That gnawing sense of unease, like a shadow curling deep in his chest, whispering that something was wrong.

The mission had been exhausting—more so than usual. Politics with Keir and his wretched court always drained him, but today, today, all he wanted was to be with you. To bury himself in your presence, to hold you in his arms and let your voice fill the spaces in him that had long been hollow. It didn’t matter what you talked about—whether it was serious or something as mundane as the best way to brew tea. Whatever it was, you—your voice, your laughter, your warmth—felt like heaven.

Maybe that was why he had finally asked.

On the way back to Velaris, he had turned to Rhysand, voice quieter than usual. “I need a few days” he said. “Out of Velaris.”

Rhys barely reacted, his lips twitching. Knowing why Azriel wanted to leave so bad. “Do you think a few days will be enough for you two?”

Azriel had chuckled, shaking his head. “Fine. A week, then.”

It felt ridiculous, almost selfish, to ask for time away when the war was looming closer by the day. But he needed it. Needed time with you, time to figure things out. To figure you out. And, if he was being honest, to figure himself out, too.

Still, the momentary ease of their conversation did nothing to quell the growing dread in his chest. The feeling only got worse as they reached Velaris, a clawing urgency building inside him.

Something was wrong.

He didn’t even wait for the others to disperse before he turned on his heel and made his way to the clinic. His steps were fast, purposeful, shadows slithering around him, restless.

Then he saw Elira.

She stood near the entrance, looking stunned—almost frozen in place. Her eyes flickered to him, and she exhaled as if she’d been holding her breath.

“If you’re looking for Y/N,” she said, still slightly breathless, “she just left. Running.”

Azriel frowned, his heart slamming once in his chest. “Running?”

“I—” Elira hesitated, glancing toward the doors as if trying to make sense of what she had just seen. “I’ve never seen her like that. She just bolted. And to be honest, she’s been off ever since she got back from her visit with the High Lady’s sister.”

Elain.

A sharp pang of something cold flashed through him.

Then—

The panic hit him like a physical force.

Not his. Yours.

His breath caught as the bond roared to life, a wave of pure, suffocating terror slamming into him.

He didn’t hesitate.

Azriel ran.

He followed the thread between you, through the streets of Velaris, through the winding paths leading out of the city. His wings flared behind him as he took to the air, scanning, searching—until he found you.

Collapsed in a clearing, shaking violently, your breaths ragged, your hands clutching at your head as if trying to silence something only you could hear.

Azriel dropped to the ground without thinking, without breathing.

“Y/N,” he called, his voice sharp with urgency. You didn’t react, barely seemed to register his presence.

Then he was there, grabbing you, pulling you into his arms.

“Hey, hey—” His voice softened, but his grip did not. He held you, firm, grounding, his heart hammering in his chest. “Y/N, look at me.”

Nothing.

Your entire body was trembling, your breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps. Your hands flew up to your ears, fingers digging in as if you were trying to block something out.

His own panic flared, but he shoved it down, focusing only on you.

He shifted, wrapping himself fully around you, cradling you against him. His hands stroked your back, firm but gentle, his head dipping close to yours.

“Shhh, love,” he murmured, brushing his lips over your temple. “I’m here. I’ve got you. Just breathe with me.”

You barely responded, your body still shaking violently, your nails digging into his leathers.

“Breathe, Y/N.” His voice was lower now, softer. He inhaled deeply, exaggerating the movement, hoping you would follow. “In… and out. With me.”

His thumb traced slow circles against your skin, his wings curling protectively around you as he rocked you slightly. He pressed his forehead to yours, trying to draw you back, trying to pull you out of whatever hell had seized you.

“Please,” he whispered, voice breaking.

And then—

A breath.

A deep, shuddering inhale.

Your body still trembled, but the suffocating tension began to ease, the shallow gasps turning into something slower, steadier.

You blinked up at him, your eyes glazed over with panic, but you were there.

Azriel exhaled shakily, his hands moving to cradle your face. He wiped away the fresh tears that streaked your cheeks, his heart aching at the sight of them.

He kissed them away, soft, reverent presses of his lips against your damp skin.

“Hey, love,” he murmured, voice raw with emotion. He rested his forehead against yours, his thumbs brushing slow, comforting strokes along your jaw.

“What’s going on?”

Your breath hitched as you tried to speak, to put words to the chaos swirling inside you. But everything—everything—felt like too much.

Your hands clenched against Azriel’s chest, your fingers curling into the familiar fabric of his leathers as if holding onto him could anchor you. Your breath came fast again, shallow.

“I—” Your voice broke, and you swallowed, squeezing your eyes shut. “Everything just… it fell too much. I couldn't breathe, I— I—”

The panic started rising again, clawing its way up from the pit of your stomach, threatening to consume you whole. The words tangled in your throat, your chest tightening all over again.

Azriel felt it before he even saw it.

Your breathing hitched, your body tensed, and his arms tightened around you immediately.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he murmured, his voice steady, soothing. “Don’t rush. You don’t have to hurry. It’s fine.”

He cupped your face gently, his scarred hands warm against your skin, his thumbs brushing away the tears that continued to fall silently.

“Breathe, love,” he whispered. “Just breathe.”

And then—

Azriel kissed you.

It wasn’t desperate or frantic, but firm. A grounding touch, meant to pull you from the edge of the abyss. His lips were warm, steady, patient. He kissed you with a quiet kind of intensity, as if willing you to feel every ounce of reassurance, every piece of him holding you together.

His hands moved slowly, one slipping to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling gently in your hair, while the other remained firm at your waist, keeping you here. With him.

Your entire body softened against him, the tension in your limbs slowly melting away as you inhaled him. The scent of night-chilled wind, cedar, and something uniquely Azriel filled your senses, grounding you, tethering you.

You clutched at him, not out of desperation, but because his presence, his warmth, him—Azriel—was the only thing in this moment that felt real.

The moment the kiss broke, he kept you close, resting his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the crisp air.

His golden eyes searched yours, still laced with worry but filled with something deeper—something you couldn’t name.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “I’ve always got you.”

Azriel brushed his thumb gently over your cheek, his gaze unwavering as he spoke, his voice calm and steady.

“You don’t have to talk about it now,” he murmured. “Not until you’re ready. And even if you never are, that’s okay too.”

You swallowed hard, your throat tight.

“The past weeks have been insane for you, Y/N. It’s normal that at some point, you can’t keep hiding everything anymore.” His golden eyes softened, his expression unreadable yet filled with so much understanding it made your chest ache.

“Maybe you should take a break.” He exhaled, his hand sliding down your arm until he could lace his fingers with yours. “Maybe we should take a break.”

Your breath hitched slightly at his words.

You shook your head, your heart racing. “But Az… the war, the people, the clinic— I can’t leave like that, we can’t just leave—”

Azriel squeezed your hand, cutting you off gently. “For once, Y/N, stop thinking about everyone else and think about yourself.” His voice remained calm, composed, reassuring. “Because it’s killing you. Slowly, quietly, piece by piece. And I won’t just stand by and watch it happen.”

The truth of his words hit you like a crashing wave.

He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t demanding.

But he was right.

You had been holding everything in for too long, carrying too much. You were exhausted—physically, mentally, emotionally. And yet, you had convinced yourself that if you just kept going, if you just kept working, it would all be fine.

But it wasn’t fine.

And it hadn’t been for a long time.

Azriel’s unwavering presence, his certainty, the way he was looking at you now as if he would do anything to pull you from this downward spiral—it finally made something inside of you crack.

You took a shaky breath, blinking away the last remnants of tears before meeting his gaze.

Finally, you nodded.

“Fine,” you whispered. “Let’s go. The both of us. Far away.”

Azriel’s lips parted slightly, almost surprised at your agreement, but then—he smiled. A real smile, rare and breathtaking. And then he kissed you.

It wasn’t a kiss of urgency or desperation. It was a promise.

A promise of escape. A promise of time. A promise of you and him, away from everything that had been weighing you down.

As you walked back through the streets of Velaris, Azriel kept you close, his arm draped securely over your shoulders, his wing shifting subtly to shield you from the cool evening breeze. The warmth of his body against yours, the steady weight of his presence—it was grounding, calming, as if the past hour hadn’t happened at all.

Your hand remained in his, your fingers entwined as you both moved through the city in silence. No words were needed. He knew. He felt it. Just as you felt the unspoken comfort he was offering.

When you stepped back into the clinic, Elira was already waiting. The moment she saw you, relief flickered in her features, but it was quickly replaced with something softer as she stepped forward, pulling you into a tight hug.

You let out a small breath, a faint smile tugging at your lips as you murmured, “I’m sorry.”

Elira pulled back just enough to look at you, her expression filled with something between fondness and exasperation.

Azriel, still standing beside you, spoke up before she could respond. “We’ll be gone for a week,” he informed her, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Elira’s eyes flickered between the two of you, her gaze sharp yet knowing.

You exhaled, nodding. “I’m leaving the clinic in your hands, along with the paperwork. I made sure to—”

“You’re not about to list out every responsibility before you leave,” Elira cut in, placing both hands on your shoulders.

You blinked in surprise.

Her gaze softened. “Y/N, we’ve got it handled. You need this. And if there’s anything urgent, Madja is still in town. But please, just rest.”

A lump formed in your throat, but you managed a nod. “Thank you, Eli.”

She squeezed your shoulders one last time before stepping back, offering you a small smirk. “Now go before you change your mind.”

You let out a breath of laughter, hugging her quickly before stepping away, Azriel’s hand finding yours once more.

The moment you were outside, Azriel turned to you, his gaze searching. You barely had time to process before he was kissing you—slow, deep, a quiet confirmation that you were his to care for.

You melted into him, letting yourself be held, letting yourself take the comfort for once instead of offering it.

And then, before you could think too much, before your mind could try to convince you otherwise—

Wind whipped around you as Azriel pulls you against his chest before winnowing the both you out of Velaris. 

The familiar pull of winnowing faded as your feet touched solid ground, the crisp mountain air immediately wrapping around you. You shivered slightly, not from the cold but from the sheer change in atmosphere—the quiet, the stillness, the peace that settled over you the moment you arrived.

Before you, nestled between towering pine trees and overlooking a breathtaking view of the Night Court’s vast mountain ranges, stood a cabin. The structure itself was modest, but it exuded warmth, comfort—sanctuary. The soft glow of faelights flickered inside, the wooden walls standing strong against the whispering winds. Snow dusted the rooftop, the steps leading to the front door barely visible beneath the pristine white.

You exhaled, breath visible in the crisp air, and turned slowly to take it all in. The mountains stretched endlessly beyond the cabin, their peaks kissed by the last lingering hues of sunset, fading into a velvety night. The stars had begun their slow emergence, blinking awake one by one, their glow reflected on the frozen lake in the distance. It was silent here—so utterly still that it felt as if the rest of the world had fallen away, leaving only the two of you behind.

Azriel’s grip on your hand tightened slightly, as if anchoring himself to this moment. You looked up at him, finding his gaze already on you. Something in his expression softened as he watched you take in the sight, the way your lips parted slightly, the way your shoulders seemed to lose some of their ever-present tension.

“You like it?” His voice was low, hesitant in a way that made your heart ache.

You turned back to the cabin, then to the vast, endless sky above, to the mountains that held secrets older than time. Likewasn’t the right word.

“It’s breathtaking,” you murmured.

Azriel’s thumb brushed over your knuckles, a silent understanding passing between you. No more words were needed.

This was what he had wanted for you—for both of you. A place away from the weight of war, of responsibilities, of everything that had nearly broken you. A place to breathe, to simply be.

He led you toward the cabin, his presence steady beside you. And as you stepped onto the wooden porch, a thought settled deep in your chest—

For the first time in centuries, maybe even forever, you felt like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

You were finally choosing yourself.

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[extinctlesspains]

can u do Kwon with a reader that doesn't do karate who he is soooo in love with like is a whole different person when she's around and she came with him to the sekai taikai and hawk tries flirting with her but she turns him down obv but then he calls her ugly and Kwon gets SO MAD and defends her and is so cute and soft trying to cheer her up

A/n: OOOO WAIT THIS IS ACTUALLY SO GOOD 😫🙌🏻

𝐷𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑇𝑎𝑙𝑘 𝑡𝑜 𝐻𝑒𝑟 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑡 : 𝐾𝑤𝑜𝑛 𝐽𝑎𝑒-𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑔

𝐵𝑦 𝑒𝑥𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑡𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠

»»——⍟——««

»»——⍟——««

𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: 𝐾𝑤𝑜𝑛 𝐽𝑎𝑒-𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑔 𝑥 𝑓𝑒𝑚! 𝐺𝑓!𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: 𝑅𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒.

𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦:𝑊ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝐻𝑎𝑤𝑘 𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑢𝑙𝑡𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑟𝑒𝑗𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑑, 𝐾𝑤𝑜𝑛 𝑓𝑖𝑒𝑟𝑐𝑒𝑙𝑦 𝑑𝑒𝑓𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢, 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑜𝑓𝑡, 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑒𝑟 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑢𝑝 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑜𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑡ℎ.

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠?

▼△▼△▼△▼△▼△▼△▼△▼△▼△▼△

The energy at the Sekai Taikai is electric, the arena buzzing with excitement and tension. You walk beside Kwon, his grip on your hand firm and reassuring. His presence is a stark contrast to the intimidating environment, and he’s practically glued to your side. Around everyone else, Kwon is a formidable competitor, but with you, he’s soft, gentle—like you’re his entire world.

During a break between matches, you find yourself at the refreshment area, feeling a bit out of place. While Kwon goes to grab a bottle of water, Hawk approaches with his signature swagger. His eyes sweep over you with a smirk that instantly puts you on edge.

“Didn’t expect to see someone like you here,” he starts, leaning casually against the table. “Kwon’s girl, huh? Surprised he’s keeping you hidden. Must be afraid someone better might snatch you up.”

You raise an eyebrow, unimpressed. “I’m here to support Kwon. I’m not interested in whatever you’re trying to sell.”

Hawk chuckles, undeterred by your rejection. “Playing hard to get? Cute. You sure you’re with the right guy? I could show you a better time.”

Your patience wears thin. “Not interested, Hawk. Just go back to your team.”

His smirk falters, replaced by a sneer. “Tch. Whatever. You’re not that pretty anyway. Kwon must be desperate.”

Before you can respond, a cold, dangerous voice cuts through the air. “What did you just say?”

You turn to see Kwon standing behind Hawk, his eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched. The atmosphere shifts instantly, the tension thick enough to cut. Kwon steps between you and Hawk, his entire body coiled like a spring ready to snap.

Hawk shrugs, trying to play it off. “Relax, man. Just saying the truth. No need to get all worked up.”

Kwon’s fists clench at his sides. “Apologize. Now.”

Hawk scoffs, clearly not taking the warning seriously. “Come on, man. You know it’s true. She’s nothing special.”

That’s all it takes. In a heartbeat, Kwon closes the distance, grabbing Hawk by the collar and shoving him against the refreshment table. The entire area goes quiet, eyes turning toward the commotion.

“Say that again,” Kwon growls, his voice low and dangerous. “I dare you.”

Hawk’s eyes widen, and for a moment, fear flickers in them. “Hey, chill. I didn’t mean—”

“Apologize. To her. Or you’ll regret it.” Kwon’s grip tightens, his knuckles white.

“Alright, alright! Sorry!” Hawk stammers, raising his hands in surrender. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Kwon releases him, and Hawk stumbles back, glaring but saying nothing more as he walks away, muttering under his breath.

The moment he’s gone, Kwon turns to you, his entire demeanor softening. His eyes, filled with anger just moments ago, now brim with concern and tenderness. He gently cups your face, his thumb tracing your cheek.

“Don’t listen to him. He’s just an insecure idiot.”

You nod, trying to smile, but Kwon can see the hurt lingering in your eyes. His expression softens even more, and he pulls you into a tight hug. “You’re the most beautiful person here. Inside and out. Don’t let anyone make you feel otherwise.”

You bury your face in his chest, feeling the warmth of his embrace. His voice drops to a whisper, meant only for you. “I’ll always protect you. No one talks to you like that and gets away with it.”

For the rest of the day, Kwon doesn’t leave your side. He showers you with compliments, sneaking kisses and holding your hand tighter than ever. Every time you catch his gaze, he gives you a soft smile, his eyes filled with so much love and adoration that it makes your heart flutter.

During his next match, you watch from the sidelines, and every time he lands a strike, his eyes flicker to you, like he’s silently dedicating every move to you. Afterward, he rushes back to your side, pulling you into his arms.

“See? All for you,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You smile, finally feeling the sting of Hawk’s words fade away. Because with Kwon beside you, fiercely protective and endlessly loving, you know you’re exactly where you belong.

[thatdesigirl17]

all i need is you I part two

series masterlist. masterlist.

a/n: the next part will be up in a few days, college is exhausting and most of my assignments are done so I finally have time to write, I hope you like it! comment if you want to be added to the taglist

warnings: swearing, violence, mentions of blood, fighting, calling the reader a slut, slight bullying

That night, Y/N kept tossing and turning in her bed, pondering about the whole ordeal. The following day, she got dressed for her classes and headed to the great hall for breakfast. ‘Hey slut, heard you let MacLaggen score on you last night. That's the level you’re dropping to now?’, Marcus Flint, one of Adrian’s friends taunted, pushing past Y/N and laughing. ‘Motherfucker.’, she says under her breath, rolling her eyes and to avoid any more unwanted attention, she put up the hood of her robe and changed her route, heading straight towards the Quidditch grounds instead of the great hall. 

‘Hey! Where are you off to?’, Theo steps up, stepping beside her and following Y/N. ‘Actually, to meet you.’, she says still walking. ‘You can stop walking. I’m right here and what's up with this?’, he said as he pushed the hood off and grabbed a hold go her arm, stopping her, ‘What did you decide?’ ‘Not here, too many ears.’, she said, looking around. Theodore nodded and tilted his head, motioning her to follow him. He led them towards one of the hidden alcoves in a deserted passage of Hogwarts. 

‘So, you were saying?’, Theodore prompted. ‘This is gonna blow up in your pretty face.’, she sighed. ‘You think I’m pretty, huh?’, he smirked, stepping closer in the small space. ‘Just trying to get into character. Are you sure this is a good idea?’, she said, resting a hand on his chest trying to stop him from coming further near her. ‘There are risks of course, but then where’s the fun without them’, he winked with a smug smile, which made Y/N glare at him again. He sighed, ‘Listen, I know you have your doubts and it is risky and downright insane I’m not saying do it anyways-‘ ‘But you’re going to.’, she said, interrupting him in between. ‘You’re right, but come on Y/N! It’s a win-win situation.’, he tried to convince. ‘We need rules if this is gonna work.’, she sighed, Theodore smiled, ‘Of course yes, the first one being, you can’t fall in love with me.’, he flashed her another smug smile. ‘You’re such an arse. If you can’t take this seriously then I don’t want to do it. Anyways, if this thing gets out, I’ll pay the price, you won’t.’, she said with annoyance. ‘Right, first rule obvious one, no one can know and I mean no one.’, he said, trying to be a bit more serious. Y/N nodded as Theodore continued, ‘Oh and also, you need to accompany me to this pure blood event next month.’ ‘You think this is gonna go along for a month?’, she asked. ‘If it does, then you have to.’, he reasoned as she agreed, ‘Do you have any other rules? Also, just for my clarity, how far am I allowed to go with this?’ ‘In public, as much as needed to make it somewhat believable and nothing in private. And while we’re at it, you can’t flirt with any other girls.’, she said, making him nod. ‘Alright, cara, you ready? We start now.’, he smirked. ‘Fuck it, let’s go this.’, she nodded. Theodore smiled as he pulled her out of the alcove and walked towards the classes.

As they talked about the details of their arrangement, a voice interrupted them, ‘Wow, couldn’t hold off until the night? You just have to fuck someone first thing in the morning, hm?’ They turned around to face Marcus Flint who was now laughing with two of his friends. ‘Fuck off, Flint.’, she said, turning again to continue walking, until she heard Theodore speak up, ‘Watch your words, Flint.’ ‘Or what Nott? Why are you hanging around with this slut anyways?’, Flint mocked. ‘My girl is not a slut.’, Theodore said through gritted teeth. Y/N wrapped her arms around herself, feeling a bit embarrassed now that all the eyes were on them. 

‘Your girl? Wow, you know it's actually kind of perfect. The man-whore and the slut.’, Flint teased, flashing a disgusting smile at Y/N. Theodore scoffed as he punched him square in the jaw, ‘Shut the fuck up.’ Theodore was enraged, his dead eyes now burning up with fury. Marcus and his friends scattered away muttering threats towards the both of them as Y/N stepped near Theo. ‘God, fuck, are you okay?’ ‘Yeah, I’m sorry for all of it. You good, cara?’, he asked, rubbing her arm comfortingly. ‘You don’t have to be sorry. For the first time, it was worth seeing that asshole, thank you Theo.’, she smiled. ‘Anything for my girl.’, he smirked as he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. Despite the reality being known to Y/N, she felt herself heat up and blush under everyone’s gaze. Theodore smiled at her, whispering against her lips, ‘So much for soft-launching this.’

taglist: @ladyblablabla @ho3smadd @insideoutjulie @wannagetnoodles @boomdolle @slitherinky

[goldfades]

i love crash out queen obv but i also adored your sensitive/shy reader w luka 🥺would you write more of that? maybe with her with rowdy fans at a game or reading comments online? ily🩷

this may be one of my fav dynamics<3 i hope you enjoy, love!

The arena hummed with a restless energy, waves of gold and purple rippling through the stands. Even from the plush courtside seats, everything felt overwhelming—the flashing lights, the roar of the crowd, the way the bass from the speakers thrummed in your chest.

You shifted, fingers tightening around the sleeves of Luka’s hoodie, the one you’d stolen straight from his duffle bag before the game. It still smelled like him—clean, warm, a little like the cologne he always spritzed too much of before heading out. It helped, kind of. But not enough.

“Hey, you good?” Mark, one of the Lakers staff members, leaned down to check on you, his voice barely cutting through the surrounding noise.

You nodded quickly, forcing a small smile. “Yeah, just… loud.”

Loud was an understatement. LA fans had a special kind of unhinged energy, and tonight—against the Mavericks, against Luka’s old team—they were ruthless.

A group behind you had been running their mouths the entire first quarter. Something about traitors, about how Dallas "never needed him anyway," about how he'd "never be Kobe." The words weren’t for you, but they still pressed in close, like sharp elbows in an already too-tight space.

You kept your eyes on Luka, on the way he moved—fluid, effortless, the way he always did. Like the noise didn’t touch him at all. You wished you had that. That armor, that ability to tune it all out.

A sudden chorus of boos erupted around you, jarring and sharp. Luka had just sunk a three, and the jeers rained down like a storm. Your stomach tightened.

Then, one voice—mean, sneering, just loud enough to make you flinch—cut through the chaos:

“Sit down, bitch,” someone snickered.

And this time, it was aimed at you.

The night air outside the arena was thick with leftover adrenaline, charged like the moments before a storm. Even with security flanking the tunnel leading to the parking lot, the crowd still loomed, restless and buzzing. Luka had played out of his mind—thirty-seven points, ten assists, a win against his old team. But none of that had dimmed the aggression from the Mavericks fans who still lingered, waiting to get the last word in.

You stayed close to Luka’s side, his warm palm pressed firmly against your lower back as you walked. He hadn’t stopped touching you since the game ended—little things, a hand on your wrist, his fingers brushing yours, like he needed the reassurance that you were okay. But even though the game was over, the tension still coiled tight in your stomach, the memory of the voices in the stands lingering like an ache you couldn’t shake.

You should’ve been used to it. The scrutiny, the way fans thought they had free reign to say whatever they wanted just because they were in the stands, hidden in the safety of a crowd. But tonight had been worse. More personal.

And Luka knew it.

He hadn’t said much on the way out—just gentle touches and quiet glances, his body language heavier than usual. You could feel it in the way his fingers flexed against your back, in the way his other hand stayed clenched at his side.

The crowd outside the tunnel thickened. Cameras flashed, fans in Mavs jerseys called Luka’s name—some cheers, some taunts, all of it bleeding together into an overwhelming mess of noise. You kept your head down, your hoodie pulled up over your hair, hoping to go unnoticed.

It didn’t work.

“Damn, she really looks like she’s about to cry,” a voice jeered from somewhere to your left.

You exhaled sharply, setting your jaw. Luka tensed beside you.

And then, clearer, louder, sharper than the rest—

“Yeah, keep walking, bitch.”

The word cut through the air like a blade, ugly and deliberate.

Luka stopped walking.

Your heart stuttered. His hand, the one that had been so warm against your back, dropped away. And before you could process it, before you could even think to pull him back, he was turning.

“The fuck did you just say?”

Luka’s voice was sharp, low, dangerous in a way you’d never heard before. It wasn’t the usual on-court trash talk, not the playful arrogance he carried during games. This was different.

The group of guys who’d been running their mouths stood there, all cocky smirks and bad attitudes, clearly not expecting a reaction. But Luka wasn’t just reacting—he was moving, stepping toward them, shoulders squared, his entire body vibrating with restrained fury.

“You wanna say that shit again?” Luka’s accent thickened when he was angry, his words clipped, rolling sharp off his tongue. His eyes were locked on the guy who’d said it, the one who suddenly wasn’t looking so smug anymore. “Say it again. I dare you.”

Your stomach dropped.

Security was already stepping in, moving fast, intercepting before things could escalate further. One of the guys reached for Luka’s arm, but he yanked away, shaking them off.

“Nah, don’t touch me,” Luka snapped, still glaring daggers at the guy. “You’re a real tough guy, huh? Sitting behind a fucking barricade, running your mouth at a woman? That make you feel big?”

The guy muttered something, but it was lost under the voices of security, the buzz of the crowd growing louder as people pulled out their phones, sensing something about to go down.

You pushed past the knot in your throat and stepped forward, fingers finding Luka’s wrist. “Luka, let’s go,” you murmured, tugging gently. His skin was hot under your touch, the tension rolling off him in waves.

He didn’t move right away. His jaw was tight, his chest rising and falling unevenly, still glaring like he was debating whether or not to throw a punch. And Luka wasn’t the type. Not really. Sure, he had a temper—he got chippy on the court, barked at refs, played with that sharp, competitive fire. But this was different. This wasn’t about basketball. This was about you.

And Luka didn’t let people mess with you.

You squeezed his wrist again, firmer this time. “Baby,” you whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear over the noise.

That did it.

His eyes flicked down to you, and for a second, his anger cracked, just enough for hesitation to slip in.

Security was still trying to herd him away. The guys who’d been heckling you were retreating now, murmuring amongst themselves, looking far less brave under Luka’s unrelenting stare.

Luka exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders like he was shaking off the urge to swing. Then, finally, he let you pull him back.

The rest of the walk to the car was silent, Luka’s arm locked tightly around you again, his pace quicker now, more urgent. The air between you still buzzed with residual tension.

When you reached the car, he yanked open the passenger door for you, waiting until you were inside before shutting it with a little too much force.

The second he slid into the driver’s seat, hands gripping the wheel, you reached over and placed your palm over his.

“Luka,” you said softly.

He exhaled through his nose, his head falling back against the headrest. His fingers laced through yours, squeezing tight, like he needed something to ground him.

“I hate that shit,” he muttered, voice still taut. “I hate—” He exhaled again, shaking his head. “People don’t get to talk to you like that.”

Your heart squeezed. “I know.”

His jaw ticked. “I should’ve—”

“You should’ve ignored it,” you cut in, gentle but firm. “I’m okay, Luka.”

His eyes finally met yours, still stormy but softer now. His fingers flexed against yours, like he was testing your pulse, making sure you really were okay.

“You’re too good to deal with that shit,” he muttered. “You don’t deserve that.”

You smiled a little, squeezing his hand. “Neither do you.”

He huffed out a humorless chuckle, looking away for a second before shaking his head. “Yeah, well.” A beat of silence. Then—quieter, more raw— “I hate when you look like that. When they get to you.”

You bit your lip. “I hate when it gets to you, too.”

He sighed, finally shifting, lifting your intertwined hands to press a kiss to your knuckles. His lips lingered there, warm and apologetic.

“I won’t let it happen again,” he murmured.

You knew he meant it.

Even if you both knew that, in this world, in this life under the spotlight—people would always talk.

But Luka would always have your back.

[bea-does-stuff]

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐡𝐬𝐫 𝐱 𝐲𝐧)

wordcount: 1042

characters: boothill, sunday, jing yuan, dan heng and dr ratio

yea so im back, sorry for the LONG hiatus, i lost a lot of passion for mha but i have tons of ideas now for other fandoms ^^ i have been VERY obssesed over genshin and hsr so expect more of those~

𝐃𝐑 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎

He is very much a man who values decency, so he'd never picture a setting where you two would share such an intimate act in the open

You know this, and you know it well, but part of you can't help but want to see the look in his refined crimson eyes, the look of pure shock hed have when you'd finally watch that smug Facade fade from his features

And since you were both together at a cafe, you decided it was now or never. He was peacefully reading his codex when you lifted his chin and pecked his lips with yours.

That being said, it didn't work the way you wanted it to

He looked at you almost a offended, and then with a serious expression, almost the same face as when he's scolding his students

“Is that some measly attempt to anger me?” He hissed, you sighed, lowering your head

“Sorry…” you muttered, he then turned back to his book flipping through his pages a bit more rough than usual, as a way of showing anger

It was only until you looked back at him to see the redness on his ears and cheeks, most of it being hidden by his fluffy hair

“idiot…” He mumbled under his breath, focusing more on his heartbeat than the pages of his ancient codex

𝐃𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐆

Dan heng isn't too romantic to begin with, his love language is more lenient to acts if service or words of affection, but that doesn't mean he doesn't appreciate a hug or kiss every once in a while

You were both in the astral express, nothing too special, march 7th was in her room, went and himeko were talking, and you were seated next to Dan heng as he sorted out his notes from the data bank 

“Hey darling?” You muttered, he looked at you immediately, tilted his head as a way of showing he was paying attention to whatever you were about to say

However, to his surprise, you leaned in and pecked him softly on the lips

He was a little slow, it took him a solid 5 seconds to process what you did, but then he instantly picked up your hand softly

“Thanks….” He said, his cheeks lightly tinted red, it was always so silly seeing him thanking you for such silly things

“One more..?” You giggled, he looked down, embarrassed 

“Please….” He responded 

𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍

He loves showing his affection for you in public, maybe it's seen as indecent for the general of the cloud knights to be seen showing such affection in a public setting, but he argues that his love for you should be celebrated, not hidden indoors like a secret

He'll let you sleep beside him while he does his paperwork or sit next to you during his meetings, whether it's holding your hands in public or giving you a hug whenever he gets the chance, he'll do it

One day he was working on more paperwork, trying his hardest not to fall asleep on the desk…..again…

It's always heartbreaking to see jing yuan so worn down from excessive work, but you've come to understand it's the way things are

You kissed him lightly when you saw his eyes closing 

“Don't fall asleep now” you smiled, he looked at you in surprise, some of the cloud knights staring at you two

He then let out a soft laugh “cheeky today, are we?” He ruffled your hair, before laying his head on your lap 

“Surely a 5 minute nap on these comfy thighs won't be a problem”

“GENERAL” fu xuan looked at him from across the room, pissed off “no slacking off!”

“I'm kidding, relax lady Fu” he sighed, lifting his head from your lap and getting back to his paperwork

“Sit on my lap, my sweet, you make a good chin rest” he pulled you to him

“And I want more of those when we get home, ok?”

𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐘

Maintaining a good image is a very, very, VERY important thing to Sunday, as one of the members of the family, he fears being seen with someone will bring unwanted attention to him and especially the family

Hes not exactly…embarrassed to be seen with you, everyone knows your his, he just prefers to keep affectionate actions in the comfort of the home you share

That doesn't stop you from getting fed up with his lack of romantic gestures, even in private, he was quite reserved

One day you had enough and kissed him while he was about to greet the new guests in penancony 

He stared at you in shock, you expected him to turn and apologize to the patrons, but he didn't take his eyes off you for a single moment

“Excuse us” he sighed, dragging you out by the hand

Before you could say anything, he kissed you again, placing his hands on your waist

“Warn me next time ok?” He said between kisses

The poor guy must have been holding back this whole time

𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋

His form of showing affection isn't…your average kind of affection, he doesn't really know how to be gentle so he shows his love by dragging you by the arm roughly and teaching you to shoot things

Although it makes sense upon further observation, since a solid 90 percent of him is metal and wired, he can't feel hugs or hand holding, not to mention he hasn't been gentle since he was a ‘human’

One day he took you to a bar, it was the clique tavern full of criminals and bounty hunters, it's not like his bounty would allow him to enter any other place

He was probably spouting off about something silly, when you decided to pull his by the collar and peck his lips

For the first time, he stopped everything he was doing, staring in utter shock, he suddenly slammed his head to the table, lowering his red face 

“Fudge…!” He whispered loudly.

You looked at him a little concerned “you ok? S-sorry i-” he suddenly stopped you “You…ya gotta do that more often..” he smiled with his sharp teeth “Do what? Kiss you…?” He nodded at your answer “Yea..and waaaay more darlin’...like…right now”