#yes that shot of his hands is doing something to me so much so that it's now my header lmao

[bluetimeombre]

☽｡⋆ Learning to fly, starting to crawl

Over one hundred years ago, you lost your wings but the wound still hurts like it was only yesterday. When your brothers mate wants to learn to fly, he doesn’t hesitate in teaching her, right in front of you. And nobody can see the scars except the one you love…

[OMG I'M ALIVE!!!! I've had this sitting in my drafts for months but have only just got around to posting. Basically, I have too many hobbies but i'm in a writing mood again., very fitting to start with my boy AZRIEL, whom i love very much. I hope you enjoy. This is linked to my other Azriel fic but of course can be read alone. Not proof-read and yes, she lost her wings. It's becoming almost a thing but it makes for some good ass angst. ENJOY!!!!]

☽｡⋆

The inner circle all sat around the table, eating and chatting merrily. Rhysand sat at the head of the table, as was tradition, while his mate- Feyre- sat next to him, their hands entwined. They smiled at each other, as so in love they were. Cassian and Mor were joking around along with Amren and Elian listened politely. Every now and then, she glanced the shadow singers way to invite him into the conversation but there was no such luck.

Azriel only stared ahead of him, glaring at the empty space where you usually sat. He wasn’t at all surprised you hadn’t turned up, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t be angry about it.

For a few weeks now he’d noticed the shift in you. You snapped easily and often rolled your eyes at anything your brother- the high lord- had to say. He’d heard you pace your rooms at night and his shadows (that favoured you above all) had reported that many nights you went to Rita’s.

But your empty seat irked him. And it irked him that Rhys seemed to not care in the slightest.

Az was the first to be aware of your presence, the echo of the door opening alerting them all and your scent hit him in the face. He inhaled it- your lavender, your sweetness, tinted by the alcohol lingering.

Rhysand huffed and everyone seemed to notice the shift. ‘I apologize about this, Feyre darling.’

Just then, you and Nesta stumbled into the room, arms linked and laughing your heads off about something or other.

Azriel drank you in. Your cheeks were flushed, your dress creased as you struggled to stay up right. Gods, what had you done?

You pouted dramatically, throwing a hand on your hip. ‘Uh oh, Rhysands got his grumpy face on.’

‘Isn’t that his usual?’ Said Nesta, causing the two of you to laugh again.

Everyone watched the two of you.

‘Where have you been?’ Az asked, wanting to rush to you and support you, but Rhys seemed one breath away from snapping.

‘We’re trying to have a pleasant meal, don’t ruin it,’ he grumbled.

‘Yes sir!’ You saluted.

Rhys growled and Feyre took his hand, squeezing it tightly.

‘Something tells me we’re not wanted, y/n,’ Nesta said to her.

‘Alas, we do not want to be here,’ you said, stumbling your way past the table. Before you went, you gave Feyre a squeeze on the shoulder, leaning down to whisper to her. ‘Feyre darling.’

‘Enough!’ Rhys shot up, hands on the table.

You barley spared him a glance as you and Nesta went about your way. You tripped on a plant pot, stumbling and apologizing to the object.

Azriel got out his seat, ready to follow you to wherever. No matter if you wanted him or not.

‘Sit down, Azriel,’ said Rhysand, taking his seat again. He picked up his fork and smiled at his mate like nothing had happened. All the while, your scent got further away from him.

He looked between where you’d disappeared and his high lord. He settled down and promised he’d find out what had made you act so.

☽｡⋆

You woke with unbearable pain in your head the next day. And your back. Your head was granted with the amount you and Nesta had drank, seeking to out-do one another so much so you drank out most of Rita’s.

But your back, the pain was new. Almost as if it knew why you were so angry, so bitter and it sort to make it worse.

Your curtains were drawn but the wind blew them back, letting you glimpse the outside world you dreaded to be a part of.

Shadows curled up your bed, brushing your hair back affectionately. They seemed to always be around you, as if they knew the bond that heaved in your chest even if their master didn’t.

You offered them a poor smile. ‘I’m fine.’ But they caressed you and smelt your lie.

From beyond the curtains, you caught a glimpse of figures in the sky. You’d always loved your room for the view it granted, of the sun, the moon, the stars. But after losing your wings, the view turned cold and the sky never seemed as bright.

It only got worse.

Though you knew the pain it would bring you to see, you wrapped a blanket around you and treaded over to the window.

Feyre was trying out her new wings, the black gifts she’d been given. Once mortal, she now had everything you wanted. The power, the wings. Your freedom was now hers.

And you hated it.

Azriel was looking close to her, encouraging her as she went. Though they were small figures to you, you could see his smile, how he held his hands out to her should she lose confidence.

How many times had you flown side by side, acting like the clouds abided you. The times you’d raced or dropped just to have Azriel catch you.

Never again.

The bitterness invaded your mouth again, blocking out all other logical senses.

Your door burst open- the shadows rushing to your side and curling around your shoulders. You didn’t need to turn to know who it was, the anger radiating from him was enough.

‘How dare you turn up in the state you did last night,’ snapped Rhys. You didn’t turn to face him, shielding yourself from his fury. ‘You had no right to ruin a lovely evening. We are trying to make Feyre and her sisters feel welcomed, its a shame my own sister can’t seem to do that for me.’

The words twisted in your gut. For him… had you not done everything for him? Lost your wings because you wouldn’t give in? Lost fifty years of your life to be with him?

‘Get over whatever it is going on and only return to us when you want to act like a decent human being.’ Rhysand snapped before leaving again, slamming the door- causing her to flinch.

The shadows ran down your hair, your cheeks, your sides. Giving you any ghostly comfort they could. ‘I’m fine,’ you told them again, retreating further into your room.

The shadows followed you, but only half of them. The other half had returned to their master, clouding him and whispering in his ear.

Her wings. She misses her wings.

She hadn’t had to say it out loud, they knew her pain.

Azriel paused in the sky, alerting Feyre. She’d seen the shadows surround him in flourishes. She couldn’t understand they were reporting in on you, that Az needed you to have something there when he could not be.

‘What is it?’ She asked, beating her wings.

He stared at her then at the wings. He was filled with the longing to be with you, in the sky, playing. Your wings were beautiful, just because they were you. A beautiful part of you.

‘I need to speak with the high lord.’

☽｡⋆

‘Ask someone else to train Feyre to fly,’ said Azriel.

He’d insisted he needed to see the high lord on urgent matters that could not wait. He’d expected it to be of the war, but Azriel opened with the line.

Rhysand was sat behind his desk, looking up to Azriel with some amusement. ‘I’m sorry?’

‘Ask Cassian,’ he said, he didn’t need to repeat himself.

‘Feyre wanted you.’

‘I can’t do it anymore,’ he said, stating it all simply.

Rhysand waited, wondering if he’d be graced with an explanation, but it never came. ‘Might I ask why.’

‘Your sister.’

Rhys’s amusement turned to a deep scowl. ‘My sister has asked you to stop flying with Feyre?’

‘No. She hasn’t asked, she never would. But I can’t teach Feyre to fly anymore.’

‘I’m sorry, I’m confused- what does any of this have to do with y/n?’ He asked.

Azriels shadows wound tight around him, coating him like a second skin. He wanted to yell, and he never let his emotions get the better of him. Instead, he curled his hand into a fist and clenched his jaw. ‘Do you really not think that this is hurting her?’

‘After her behaviour the past couple days I think it’s her who’s doing the hurting,’ he said, picking a bit of invisible lint from his shoulder.

‘She lost her wings,’ said Azriel with barely contained annoyance. ‘She lost them. They were cut from her back and she was left to bleed out.’

‘I do remember that Azriel,’ said Rhys, closing his eyes at the words. ‘I was there when we found her.’

‘So do you not think that teaching your mate to fly doesn’t effect her?’

Rhysand looked at him. His eyes changed, the hue turning darker. No, he hadn’t thought that. You’d never let on to feeling anything for your wings or lack of them. But then again, even if you had, would you ever have gone to your brother.

Azriel took a measured step forward. ‘Do you not think it hurts her that you teach your mate to fly, the same mate that gasped in horror when she saw the scars on your sisters back? That you have us fly in front of the house where she can see? Did you even know that when she bathes y/n covers all the mirrors so she doesn’t have to get a glance at the scars.’

The high lord held up a hand. ‘I understand.’

‘No, you don’t. You could never know what it’s like, neither could I, or Cassian. She had a part of her ripped off and she has to live without it every day. But you’ve gifted Feyre them as if it’s nothing.’

‘Because my mate has the powers,’ argued Rhys. ‘If I could give y/n wings I would- in a heartbeat, I would.’

Azriel nodded. He knew that, he knew the relationship between you and Rhys was fractured at best, but he also knew that if anything or anyone hurt you, Az would kill them. ‘I don’t want to reach Feyre to fly because it hurts y/n.’

Rhys leaned back in his chair, studying him. ‘And you care about her?’

‘More than I can express.’ He would give her the wings from his back if he could. ‘And if something hurts her… it hurts me.’

Rhysand nodded. ‘I’ll take her flying from now on. We’ll do it in the mountains, to spare y/n from seeing it.’

Azriel bowed his head. ‘Thank you.’

Rhys nodded but averted his gaze. ‘Look after her, Azriel.’

‘I always have.’

☽｡⋆

Nesta had gone to Rita's, expecting you later but you'd already snuck down to the Wine cellar and picked out the finest to drown your sorrows alone in. You'd past Cassian on the way, the male worried about your shifting gaze and the way you held yourself but you brushed him off and carried on your way.

You hesitated outside your door, where shadows lurked. Yes, they liked you and yes they were often with you, but never guarding your door.

Then, you smelt it. Not wine but sweet cedar and moss. Az.

You didn't want this. Didn't want him to see you like this, in pain in your mind and back, in longing for the wind through your hair. You knew he'd noticed your behaviour, he was the spy master, you'd only hoped... only hoped he didn't care as much as he did.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed open the door and braced yourself for shouting.

Azriel stood there, looking regal and beautiful. His back was too the balcony, the door open and wind rusting his wings and sheets. His hands were behind his back and his gaze was... soft? It wasn't dark with anger or clouded in annoyance.

It was just Az.

'Azriel,' you do your best to smile, clearing your throat. 'What are you doing? I thought you had flying with Feyre?' you were trying but you were also just you and you missed your wings.

'I'm teaching her anymore,' he said.

You chuckle. 'Is she that bad a student?'

'I'm sorry.'

You look up to him, taking out the cork of the wine. Rose filled your senses. 'For what?'

'That she flys when you don't,' he mentioned it simply, as if you'd already told him what was hurting you and he'd accepted it.

You hadn't said it. You wouldn't. You hated yourself enough for being weak, you didn't need him, perfect Azriel, caring Azriel, to see how horrid your jealousy had made you. 'I don't know what you mean.'

'y/n,' he steps close to you, taking the bottle from you. He drops it at his side but no smash is delivered. The shadows swallow it up. 'Why won't you talk, instead of drowning yourself in pain?'

'I'm not drowning myself in anything,' you deny, moving away from him to close the balcony door. The air drifting in and moving everything but you only mocked.

'You can't fly,' he said.

Your eyes squeezed shut in pain. 'Yes, I know, you don't have to remind me.'

His boots sounded close behind her and he took her shoulders. He didn't force her to turn around, he only held her gently and soothed his thumbs over the knots in her back. 'You can't fly and words don't exist to tell you how sorry I am. If I could i'd give you the own wings off me back-'

'Don't say that.' The only thing worse than your pain, was Azriel going through it all.

'I would and I mean it just to see you smile again, if only for a second. I'd be glad to give them up,' he whispered. Your shoulders slumped under his grasp and he sighed in relief, it was better than tensing up again. 'I miss you smiling. I miss you laughing. I miss you smiling at me. I'm sorry if teaching Feyre to fly has hurt you.'

'It wasn't you, Az,' you turn in his hold, never letting him feel like it was his fault. In doing that, you admitted to being bothered. 'I can't be who I was, because I don't know how. And I don't want to try to only fail.'

He listened, hands trailing down your arms to rub.

You gulp. 'And it's not just losing the wings, it's everything I lost with it. Freedom. I can't join you or Cas, or anyone when you take to the skies. How am I going to cope in battle? I can't run as fast as I can fly, I can't fight as well. I can't hit Cassian over the head when he's being an idiot, I can't-I can't wrap them around you when we hold each other, and it's painful to think of everything I've lost when I've gained nothing.'

He listened, tears watering his gaze. You had not lost any of that, not to him.

'And Feyre,' you pulled away, crossing your arms around each other and looking out the window. 'I don't hate her, I wish I could but I can't. But she's been Fae for five seconds and she has everything I've ever wanted. Wings. My brother loves her. She's happy. I hate it and I hate myself.'

Your confession weighed your gut but your chest rose in a deep breath. You couldn't see Azriel behind you in the reflection of the windows and you couldn't hear him.

He'd gone. Of course he'd left, you'd whined about what you'd lost when you were at least alive. You'd complained about the High Lady- treason in Rhysand's book.

No, you were all alone.

But you weren't.

Az crept behind you and slowly- so you could pull away- wrapped his arms around your shoulders. He pulled you into his chest and matched his breaths with yours. 'I won't insult you by saying I get it, because I could never. But that time, when I found you after you'd lost your wings, I thought i'd lost you and that-that is how I imagine your feelings. Because I stopped breathing and I didn't think happiness would ever be in the world again. And your blood, you bleeding out has been in my nightmares since. If my hands were to be stained with it, let them, because it was the last thing i'd ever have of you.'

You had no idea. He'd felt terrible yes and been there the weeks and months it took to heal but you'd been so full of pain and guilt you hadn't thought of how he fared. Your greatest friend... your lustful secret.

Your hands came up to hold his arms.

'You do not have to be who you were before,' he whispered, head resting on your shoulder. 'Become better. Become something more. As for training, you're the strongest woman I know and still the only person I'd trust with my life.'

A tear escaped you.

He nudged your chin with his nose. 'And you can still hit Cass as much as you like.'

You laugh through tears, holding onto Az like he was the last thing anchoring you to yourself.

His wings slowly inched over you. 'And I will hold you all day, every day till I die, and i'll keep you safe.' His wings closed around the two of you as yours used to do.

Neither of you realised how much you'd missed it, needed it, craved it until it happened.

You'd lost your wings, but you had never and would never lose him.

[holdmytesseract]

One Night or Forever?

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Summary: When one thing leads to another, you and Daryl spend a passionate night together at the CDC. Unfortunately, neither of you is interpreting the signals right afterwards...

Warnings: 18+! MDNI! smut (not entirely graphic, but it's definitely there - like, you know exactly what's going on), uhhh sub and dom Daryl? unprotected rough-ish sex? Daryl gets a bj (yes, you read that right), he's a bit mean, too - but also a cutie patootie, uhh slight angst? bit of drama, alcohol - drunk-ish Daryl and tipsy reader, fluff, swear words, bickering

Set in Season 1!

Word Count: 4,5k

a/n: You want it, you got it, friends. I don't know what this is, though - or which demons possessed me as I wrote it. I really don't. I also don't know how I should feel about it. Embarrassed? Proud? Send help, lol.

Anyways, I hope you like this! Please go easy on me. Smut isn't really my forte...

EoH Masterlist °☆• LITRM Masterlist °☆• Daryl Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

"Booyah!"

Daryl's toast had been the starting shot for an evening full of conversation, fun, laughter - and alcohol. Some would say reams of alcohol. Wine, booze, beer - you and the group stopped at nothing. That was probably the reason why everyone staggered somewhere on a scale between tipsy and shit faced drunk at the end of the evening.

You were currently on your way to your personal room - something you'd describe as a luxury. Sure, back at the quarry you had your own tent, but there was a huge difference between that and a whole goddamn room. With a own freaking shower! It was crazy. Who would've thought that something so plain and simple would become such a valued, precious thing? Most likely nobody, because it was something taken for granted.

Well... Not anymore. Not since the world went to shit.

After passing a very drunk Glenn on the way, you more or less stumbled into your room. Tipsy... You were definitely tipsy. Without a single care in the world, you started to shed your clothes the moment the door shut close behind you. All you wanted to do was sleep. You had too much alcohol coursing through your veins to search for something you could use as a pyjama. You hadn't a problem with sleeping naked. Not tonight.

Unfortunately had your plan a catch... One that you weren't aware of yet.

This wasn't your room.

You were just about to free your body of the last piece of fabric you were wearing - a pair of admittedly beautiful dark blue lace panties, when a sudden voice managed to almost send you into cardiac arrest.

"Wha' the fuck 'r ya doin' in my room?!"

You startled so bad, that you almost lost balance and fell flat on your ass. Your balance was a bit off-track anyways, due to the wine...

With wide eyes you turned around to face the intruder.

"Daryl?"

You blinked. "What are you doing here?" He scoffed; his cheeks puffed out and reddened. He had been drinking way more than you did, and it showed. The archer's hands were fumbling clumsily with the fly of his jeans. "Jus' been taken a damn piss, 'n 'm comin' back to find ya standin' in my room." You crossed your arms over your bare - an information which hadn't reached Daryl's brain yet - chest. "This is clearly my room, Dixon." He scoffed again. "'S not!" "Yes, it is!" "'S not!" The man took a few wobbly steps closer. "Go bullshit someone else, I-" He stopped abruptly in the middle of his sentence; eyes widening to the size of plates. Now the information had been received and processed.

"Yer almost naked," he stated; bluntly staring.

Oh, you suddenly realised and remembered as well. He was right.

In any other situation, you'd have frantically tried to cover yourself up and perhaps even threw an insult at the man standing across from you, but the alcohol lowered your boundary of shame and loosened you up; making you see things more relaxed.

You huffed out a breath. "Yeah, no shit, Sherlock." Daryl still blinked and tried very hard to not let his eyes drop, but that was an almost impossible task for the alcoholized man. "Why?" You shrugged your shoulders. "'Cause I wanted to go to sleep." The archer swallowed hard. "In my room? Naked? Ya lost yer damn mind, woman?" "It's my room," your tipsy self was still profoundly convinced, while you made your way over to the bed on slightly wobbly legs. Daryl just watched you; flabbergasted, speechless, shocked - and incredibly turned on. After all, he had a damn pretty woman in his room - no, bed. Half naked!

"You could join me, Dixon." He scoffed again and tried to walk in a straight line over to the armchair; accepting his fate. "In yer damn dreams. 'S ain't gonna help me - or my hard-on." You giggled at his words like a schoolgirl and rolled around in the sheets. "That the reason why you can't get that zipper up? You like me, Daryl? Like what you see?" You pestered him with questions; smirking, and watched his cheeks redden even more - if that was physically possible and your eyes didn't betray you. "Shuddup," Daryl just growled in response. You giggled again, before a long beat of silence passed between the both of you.

The alcohol didn't just lower your boundary of shame... It also caused you to become bolder. "I could help you with that, you know..." You tried to sound as flirty and seductive as possible and turned in the sheets once more, but now to face the man sitting across from the bed. You perched yourself onto your stomach and crossed your ankles in the air; swaying your legs.

Gods, you felt like a teenager again. Damn the alcohol and your crush on the archer. It was a dangerous combination, since you hadn't planned to actually act on said crush. Well, and here you were now in his - nu.uh, your - bed, almost naked and trying to seduce him.

Some might say this escalated quickly...

"Help me with wha'?" The archer finally responded after a long moment; dumbfounded. His usually very smart and witty brain slowed down by the alcohol. You thought for a hot minute that he had already fallen asleep on you. You rolled your eyes and groaned - acting like Daryl just said the stupidest thing in the world. "Your boner," you deadpanned - as if it was the most normal thing to say.

The archer swallowed hard; feeling his chest (and pants) tightening.

"Wha'?" He crooked out. The normally so talkative, glibly redneck seemingly rendered speechless by your boldness.

Once again, you rolled your eyes. "Do you reaaaaally want me to spell it out for you, D?" Daryl clearly needed a moment to recover, but once he did, he scoffed.

"Pf, yer bluffin'."

"I'm not."

"Yeah, ya 'r."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, ya 'r. Can tell. Yer way to innocent fer shit like tha', sunshine."

"Are you challenging me, Dixon?"

"Nah, jus' statin' facts."

Now you were the one who scoffed. He really asked for it, didn't he? You smirked and hid your face in the blanket beneath you. Oh, you were so going to prove him wrong.

You rolled your barely covered body around a third time, but this time to get up from the bed - which was a much more difficult task than expected, but you made it in the end - even though not gracefully and certainly not seductively. "Facts, huh?" You asked the crossbow-wielding archer then with a raised eyebrow and your hands on your hips. He crossed his arms over his plaid beige-brown shirt clad chest; bare forearms and biceps bulging with the movement. "Yes, facts." Although he stared into your eyes with his blue coloured irises, he still had a hard time for them to actually stay on your face.

"Well, you can go screw your opinions - or me. Your choice, pretty boy," you stated and shrugged your shoulders as you bridged the short distance between the bed and the armchair. Before the younger Dixon could even do as much as open his mouth for a snarky respond, you had dropped to your knees in front of him - between his manspread legs.

Daryl's eyes widened and his jaw slacked. "Wha' 'r ya doin'?!" He literally screeched and gripped the armrests of the armchair. "Proofing you wrong, pretty boy." You smiled up at him like a Cheshire cat; hands and fingers clumsily trying to open his jeans. "F-Fuckin' hell, wha'?! Yer insane, woman!" The archer cursed above you, but also didn't make any moves to stop you. So, you took that as a sign to continue. And continuing you did...

It took you a hot minute to get your eye-hand coordination straight and overcome the obstacles which were his jeans and boxers, but once you did, there was no holding back. "Ya really gonna do th- F-Fuck..."

You did.

"Told you, Dixon," you stated with a mischievous glimmer in your eyes; hands firmly cupping him. Daryl answered nothing. The archer had a hard time to control his breathing and rapidly beating heart. He was still gripping the armrests like a vice - his knuckles already turning white. He really couldn't believe this was happening right now. Was he asleep and dreaming? Was he hallucinating? Did the wine manage to fog up his brain so much that his eyes were deceiving him? But when he felt your lips wrap around him, he instantly threw all those thoughts overboard again. This was real. It had to be real. After all, he was feeling it, right?

"F-Fuckin' hell," he cursed again; feeling waves of pleasure crash over him. One of his hands loosened its grip on the armrest and went in your hair instead - tying your loose hair into a makeshift ponytail. You were already too far gone to care; the taste of him addictive.

Working your magic, you tried to grant the man above you as much pleasure as possible - and it seemed to work. Within a few minutes, Daryl was a whimpering mess - a side you'd never thought you were ever going to see of him. Not in your wildest dreams.

"Ain't... Ain't g-gonna last," the archer panted breathlessly; the hand in your hair twitching. You didn't want him to. You wanted him to fall apart. A gentle squeeze of your hand was all it took. "Y-Y/N, damnit, 'm gon'- Gonna cu-" His sentence got interrupted by a low moan that paved its way to the forefront of his lips. The hand in your hair twitched again as he attempted to pull you off him. You didn't let him, though, and easily dodged his lousy attempt. Instead, you helped him ride the wave. His thighs twitched; muscles tensing as his high crashed into him. Daryl felt like he had been hit by an eighteen-wheeler - but in the best way possible. It had been so long...

The gentle grip he had of your hair slackened; hand falling limply to his side. You lifted your head to look at him to witness his blissed-out state. Daryl's eyes were closed, and his breathing laboured. You smiled; hands gently caressing his clothed thighs. "You believe me now, D?" He gave you a mere nod. Clearly he needed another few moments to get his head straight again. Your smile never ceased as you kept up your fingers movements. Your knees protested by now, but you didn't care.

Another few moments passed, before the archer peeled his eyes open again. Seeing you still on your knees for him managed to send another shockwave of arousal throughout his entire body.

Wide-blown eyes stared at you intensely; the gears turning in his fogged up head.

"T-Thanks, I guess," he whispered then. His voice was still hoarse. You smiled up at him. "You're welcome, pretty boy. Said I'm gonna help you." Daryl nodded almost shyly and clumsily stuffed himself back inside his boxers. You eyed him thoroughly and started to giggle. "Didn't think you'd loose it so fast. Wouldn't have pecked you to be a... premature guy." Not that it mattered to you, but you couldn't help yourself but to tease him a bit. It was meant to be a playful comment, but you seemed to hit a sore spot...

You could practically see how his eyes darkened, before he narrowed them. "Whatcha say, huh?" He asked in a gruff voice and stood up; towering over you. You blinked - were a bit taken aback by the sudden shift in his demeanour. "I-I, uh... Said I didn't think you'd be one t-to, uh, come too early..." The archer growled under his breath. "Ya better watch yer mouth, sunshine," he said in a threatening tone and grabbed your arms to pull you up on your feet. Daryl quickly noticed, though, that his legs were even more wobbly now that they've already been before; forcing him to take cautious steps. "What are we doing, pretty boy? You gonna make me pay for saying that?" You gave another sassy remark; provoking him and tickling his nerve ends even further. A grunt passed his chapped lips as he dragged you with him. Once close to the bed, he wrapped his arms firmly around your bare midsection and literally threw you onto the bed - wobbly legs be damned. You giggled at his eagerness and slid upwards to rest your head on one of the pillows; giving the man a confident look. "C'mon then, pretty boy, show me what you got. I know you want to." He scoffed and crawled on the bed. "Pretty boy my ass." You just giggled again. You felt intoxicated by the wine you had consumed and definitely aroused - which got only worse when you felt calloused, deft hands gripping your delicate skin. Daryl parted your legs and settled on his knees between them. His eyes were directed on your face. He looked like a predator - ready to attack his prey. It was incredibly hot.

"'M gonna shut tha' sassy mouth 'a yers, just ya wait," he growled in a deep voice, and wrapped his arms and hands around your thighs like a snake - holding them firmly and simultaneously keeping you splayed open for him, before he literally yanked you down; bringing your hips closer to his.

Your breath hitched in your throat at his sudden movement and the upcoming anticipation.

His fingertips danced over the skin on your hips then - and suddenly got your dark blue lace panties ripped into shreds.

"Daryl!" You shrieked, then gasped. "Those were my favourites, I-" "'S jus' a damn piece 'a fabric. Dun be such a crybaby," he interrupted you; instantly putting you in your place. Your mouth clapped shut. This was yet another new side of him. Sure, you knew he was hotheaded, but he literally just went from kinda submissive to dominant within the blink of an eye. Was it the alcohol? Or truly his temper?

The clinking of his belt ripped you out of your thoughts. Some shuffling and the rustling of fabric was the only premonition you got, before you felt him against your hot and pulsating center. Your hips instantly bucked; trying to get closer.

More friction.

More pleasure.

More of Daryl.

The archer hovering above you scoffed. "Look how needy ya are. Dun even hafta prepare ya." You could see the corners of his mouth twitching into a small smirk. "Tis all jus' from gettin' me off, huh?" You nodded and bit your lip. Daryl on the contrary shook his head, "Yer tha' desperate? Pf... Pathetic." and lined himself up, before hitting home.

Stars exploded in front of your eyes as his hips met yours. The most sinful moan the archer had ever heard in his life slipped past your lips; only spurring him on more. He picked up a firm, steady pace - leaving you a mess beneath him barely within a few minutes. Just what you did to him.

Revenge was sweet, wasn't it?

His precise, powerful thrusts carried you from one high to the next - and Daryl enjoyed it. He loved to see you fall apart beneath him. And this time, he was the one lasting longer. "Who's commin' too soon now, huh? 'S not me, sunshine. Told ya I'd shut tha' sassy mouth 'a yers," he growled lowly; slowing his pace to just give you a few moments of recovery. You moaned at the sheer endless pleasure he granted you. Your hands gripped his thick arms like a vice after he had planted both palms firmly in the mattress beside your head to gain more leverage. "F-Fuck, Daryl," you whimpered; fingernails digging into his sweaty biceps. "I know. Jus' one more, 'kay? Can ya give me one more?" You nodded wordlessly. "Good girl," the archer praised and picked up his speed once again; pulling another sweet moan alongside some incoherent noises from you.

Your hands travelled. They left his arms to rest on his chest, where they fisted the fabric of his plaid shirt with the ripped off sleeves. The fabric held a darkened stain - a puddle of sweat formed on his chest.

Your hands continued to fist his shirt, as you pulled - an attempt to undo a few buttons. But once the archer noticed what your mission was, he stopped dead in his movements. "Nah, dun do tha'," he scolded you instantly and peeled your hands away from the fabric covering his upper body. "W-Why?" You asked breathlessly; not understanding his sudden mood shift. "'"Cause I told ya to!" He snapped.

Just in that moment, you realised that you must've hit another sore spot... But this time one that actually seemed to get to him. Not one that managed to turn him on.

"S-Sorry, D-Daryl, I-" You immediately apologised, but got interrupted once more. "Keep holdin' on ta my arms, if yer need sum'thin' to hold on to." His voice was gruff, but way more soft than a few moments ago. The archer redirected your hands and placed them once more around his sweaty biceps. Without another word, he continued where he left off, causing your grip to instantly tighten. "There ya go," he praised you again and readjusted your legs with his thighs. Just the slight change of angle was enough to send you a third time over the edge. This time, though, you dragged him right with you.

A broken sound - close to a cry, left the man's lips as he pulled out and coated the supple skin of your stomach with his release. A single droplet of sweat rolled down his neck as he threw his head back in ecstasy. It was a sight to behold. A sight you might never forget for the rest of your life - no matter how long your life was going to be.

A few moments later collapsed Daryl on the mattress beside you. He was clearly spent. Perhaps this had been something you both needed. Who knew?

"Imma take a shower," the archer announced after a while and left the bed - but not before gentleman-like wiping the mess he made on your stomach away with his hand. Without another word, he left, while you just laid there - still naked and staring at the ceiling; recalling in your mind what just happened. The sex managed to sober you up a bit. Did that really just happen? Had you been dreaming this?

You heard the water run, but not how Daryl returned to the room and settled down for the night in the armchair. You had ventured off to dreamland at some point.

To say the next morning was awkward was an absolute understatement. Awkward was not even remotely enough to describe the vibe between the both of you.

When you woke up again, the archer was nowhere to be seen. Now sober, you left the bed, picked up your clothes, noticed that you truly were - in fact in his room, and tiptoed butt naked down the hallway into your room. Luckily nobody had seen you. That would've been scandalous, right?

Your luck was also that everybody was quite hungover from last night. Some more, some less. Therefore noticed nobody the way you and Daryl acted around each other.

You could barely manage to look into his eyes.

You felt ashamed; thinking that you pushed him too far yesterday night. Thinking, that you were too bold and unable to control your damn feelings. Thinking that you pushed him away, instead of drawing him in. You anticipated that the archer must hate you now - and you couldn't even blame him...

Nevertheless seemed a conversation inevitable. You didn't want to destroy the friendship - if you could even call it that - the both of you had before last night.

It took you days to bite the bullet and ask him to talk, though. Sure, you had been on the road again since the CDC was a dead end, but that wasn't an excuse in your eyes.

"D-Daryl?" You approached him cautiously as you found him alone in the stables of the Greene farm; saddling a horse to go looking for Sophia. "Whatcha want?" He asked you and gave you a short look. You swallowed nervously. "Can we, uh, can we talk?" "'Bout wha'?" You watched him work for a moment, while your fingers fumbled with the hem of your t-shirt; trying to gather all the courage you could find. "That, uh, night at the CDC..." Your words came out as a whisper, but Daryl heard them nonetheless - and froze in all his tracks.

"Why'd ya wanna talk 'bout tha'?" He asked nonchalantly after a beat of silence and continued his work; had seemingly shaken off the small 'shock' quite quick. "I-I..." You started and sighed. "Things f-feel so weird between us since that n-night, and... I don't want that. I-I'm sorry for what I did. I'm s-sorry for making you sleep with me." Your eyes were stuck on him. You watched him and tried to gauge his reaction - afraid of what was going to happen.

"Yer sorry 'bout it?" Daryl asked then - almost in disbelief. Then he scoffed. "Do ya regret it?"

That was a question you didn't see coming. A question you haven't thought about yet. Did you regret it? Your memories took you back in time; letting you relive that night you shared with him. The answer was clear - as you quickly discovered.

"No, I don't, but... It was wrong. I shouldn't have-" "Wrong?" He interrupted you. His voice appalled. "Tha's what ya think 'bout this? 'Bout... us?" Daryl accused you with a grimace on his face. Was that... sadness you could detect in his blue orbs? Hurt?

You blinked; "U-Us?" were definitely confused by his words. "W-What do you mean 'us'?" "Ya know wha' I mean, Y/N." You shook your head. "No, Daryl. No, I don't. We've been practically ignoring each other since the CDC. We can't even talk properly! Neither of us can look into the other's eyes! Everything is just... weird, and you talk about an 'us'? No, I don't get it. Tell me. Explain it."

A frustrated huff left the archer's lips, before he started to gnaw at the pad of his thumb; averting your eyes. All of a sudden, the usually so confident redneck became all shy and insecure. "Dunno how," he started; merely shrugging his shoulders. "'S difficult, 'n I ain't good with words." "Try it, D," you encouraged him and gave him a soft smile. "Please. I want to make things right between us again." The archer nodded and took another moment - most likely to gather his thoughts. "'S tha' feeling, ya know? Can't pin it down. Always feelin' so strange whenever yer close to me."

Your heart skipped more than just one beat as his words urged to your ears. Could it be...? No...

"W-What do you feel? Can you... describe it?" Daryl lowered his gaze to the ground. The little stone laying beside his left foot suddenly became really interesting. "Jus' strange. Gets harder to breathe, 'n... My stomach's all messed up. Feels like an itch I can't scratch." You couldn't believe this was happening. Did that night cause Daryl to fall in love with you? "You're doing good, D. Keep going. What else?" You had to know.

He grunted; his foot playing with that little stone, before kicking it aimlessly over the concrete ground. "I... always go back to tha' night in my head. Can't forget it. Yer look. Yer touch. The way ya felt, I-" He stopped himself to take a deep breath. And you smiled. Perhaps having slept with him hadn't been a mistake. Perhaps you interpreted his behaviour wrong. Perhaps you just misread the signs...

"I jus' dunno how to act 'round ya. I dunno wha's happening to me. Tha's why I ain't talkin' to ya. Didn't mean to ignore ya..." Daryl apologised with his head still lowered.

You stepped closer to him and cautiously reached for his hand. He flinched, but didn't pull away. "Daryl, I... I think I know what happened to you," you whispered. "'N wha's tha'?" He asked; finally brave enough to lift his head to look into your eyes. You smiled and squeezed his hand. "I think you... are in love."

As quick as the man had lowered his guard, as quick was it up again.

He pulled his hand out of your grasp and scoffed, before he took a few steps back. "Pf. Love? Me? Tha's ridiculous, woman - 'n we both know it!" "Is it, yeah? You really think so?" "Yes!" He yelled, and wanted to rush past you - but you stopped him with your palm splayed on his chest. You didn't know if what your heart made you do was a wise decision, but it acted on its own will. Your head was powerless anyway.

Daryl's eyes travelled from yours to the hand on his chest and back. "Whatcha doin', woman?! Leave me the hell alo-" You had heard enough. You had held yourself back long enough. This was the only option you had left. It was do or die.

You cut the man off with standing on your tiptoes and connecting your lips to his. It was a chaste, gentle kiss - but nonetheless meaningful. It felt so right. So good. His lips so soft and warm - compared to his seemingly rough exterior. His blond-brown goatee tickled your skin in the best way possible.

Once more, Daryl froze to the ground; not moving a muscle.

When your lips left his again with a soft pop and you reopened your eyes, you could see how his eyelids fluttered slowly open as well. You could feel his heart galloping underneath your palm. "What do you feel now, Daryl?" You asked in a hushed tone. Your eyes never left his. The archer swallowed hard. His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat. "I-I-I..." He stammered out; his cheeks heating up. "G-Good," he croaked out. "R-Real good." You smiled - happy that your heart had made the right decision. "Wanna do it again?" He blinked. The tips of his ears got red as well. "I-If yer willin' t-to k-kiss me again?" Your smile even widened, before you reached up to cup his beardy, red cheeks in your palms to pull him into another kiss. Daryl gasped against your lips; eyes falling shut and lips following your lead. It caused the kiss to get more intimate. More demanding. More passionate.

His hands acted on their own will, as they settled on your waist and pulled you closer. Your body crashed against his. You could tell that he hadn't kissed a lot in his life; his movements clumsy and messy - but perfectly Daryl. And you loved it. You didn't care how experienced or skilled he was. All you cared about was him - and all the love he deserved you wanted to give him.

He was far from perfect; had his flaws - but so were you.

"What do you say now about love, pretty boy?" You asked in a playful, yet loving manner; your hands crossed behind his neck. Daryl's hands gently squeezed your sides, "Shuddup." before he dipped his head to indulge you into yet another kiss.

Yeah... He was definitely whipped.

Tags: @angelwings-crossbowstrings @belitoxx @fictive-sl0th @marvelcasey05 @loz-3 @whore4romance @stitchintimefan @bigbaldheadname @making-the-most-0f-it @erebus-et-eigengrau @km-ffluv @0-aubrie0 @sweetz1919 @mikaela-granger @secretsicanthideanymore @dilfdixon @txtttttttttttttt @dixons-sunshine @cakesandtom @mayday2007 @dixonsdarkelf @huntedmusicgardenn @ffsjustletmesleep

[harryhighkey]

rest, baby.

hi - here is part four of my frontman x reader series!

spoiler: they finally kiss! sorry but not sorry for the slow burn for that moment. hopefully the wait was worth it!

a frontman x reader series - masterlist to series here

"Open your eyes now." Player 001's voice sounded out in front of you, his voice was so calm compared to the constant loud terror that had stayed in your head during Mingle.

You did as he said and you were met by his gaze in the little yellow room. Slowly, you removed your hands from your own ears. In-ho's hands were still over the top of yours so they fell from your face too. All of the terrible noises of the worst game yet were over now. The nursery rhyme, the screaming, the fighting, the gun shots, dead bodies being placed into boxes with thuds, it was all over.

But there was another sound that you'd only heard once, that had taken place right before the game ended. A neck breaking. Your eyes did a quick sweep of the room, the man who had snuck in here when you fell to the ground was gone. You looked back to Player 001.

In-ho was still looking at you, he knew what you were looking for. He'd deliberately waited until the guards had removed the dead body from the room before telling you to open your eyes. His eye contact was strong, you still found comfort in it, but something had shifted ever so slightly. You were having an internal battle over if what he had done made you trust him more or less.

He had just killed someone with his bare hands. For you.

"It's over?" You asked, needing him to confirm.

"Yes." He told you and you felt the invisible weight of panic that had been crushing you lift from your chest.

You took in a deep breath but winced as the action hurt your side. Quickly you flinched, your hands going to where the pain struck.

"Are you okay?" In-ho frowned in concern, his hands landing on your shoulders to steady you.

"Just hurts a little."

"Can I see?"

You nodded and your hands went to the hem of your shirt, lifting it to see your side all red from where you had been kicked. "Looks like it hurts a lot." In-ho said, he moved one of his hands so his fingertips just barely brushed the surface of where your skin was red and hot, his jaw clenched. He was furious at the person who hurt you like this.

"I'll be fine." You pushed his hand away and put your shirt back down.

"You don't have to do that with me."

"Do what?"

"Say you're fine when you're obviously hurt."

"Well, when I just have this and all those people died, then I'm fine, Young-il." You snapped at him.

He didn't respond, instead silence fell between you both. His expression gave nothing away, you hated knowing how readable your face was whilst his was the opposite.

What you didn't know was the constant internal battle he was facing between being the Frontman and Player 001. Being the man who ran these games but also being the man who wanted to save you from them.

You snapped at him about people dying here, which he was to blame for but he didn't care about those people. He only cared about you. He cared so much about your life and at the same time, he was the reason yours had been put in this dangerous situation, he had to be the reason you get out, too.

"Sorry." You dropped your eyes, shaking your head at yourself. This man had literally just carried you to the finishing line - a finishing line that secured your life - and you were snapping at him? He had just helped and carried you through the worst panic attack you'd ever experienced so you would survive. He killed for you. You tried not to think about that last fact too much.

He had looked out for you more than anyone ever had your whole life.

"Don't be." He shook his head, dropping his head down. "You've been through a lot. Too much." Because of me. He thought.

"So have you." You reached for his hand then, he intertwined his fingers with yours. He kept his face down. "Young-il," You called out to him. In-ho hated that you still didn't know his real name, he wanted to tell you it. He looked back up to you. "Thank you for looking after me. For saving me."

His spare hand came to rest on your cheek, his thumb rubbing along your skin. You're saving me. He didn't say that out loud, instead he said, "I told you I would."

"I know, but when I had given up during the second last round. I thought that was it for me."

"But it wasn't, I was never going to let that happen."

"I know that, I just thought I was stronger than that. I should've been able to keep going. I should've been able to handle it." You were disappointed in yourself, dropping your gaze from his now.

"No," In-ho shook his head, his face almost looking pained at what you had said. Both of his hands held your own two. "You shouldn't have to, (Y/N). You are not the problem. What happens here, the people who thrive here, who enjoy it, they're the ones who are wrong." He moved his face closer to yours, barely brushing his nose against yours, you looked back up at the contact, the movement bringing your face closer to his again. You could feel his breath on your lips, your heart thundered. "Not you, pretty girl. You are too good for this place, it's beautiful that you don't belong here."

Your breath hitched as your eyes dropped to his mouth and then back up to his eyes. You tilted your head a little, rubbing your nose against his, your lips just grazing his, inviting him in.

He accepted.

Player 001 closed the distance, his lips meeting yours, finally. The kiss was tender and heavy, you'd both felt like you had been waiting so long for this despite it being just a few days. Your brain felt dizzy as all the terrible things you'd experienced slowly began to dissipate and all you could think about was how perfectly his lips meshed with yours. His hands let go of yours and found your thighs, you sighed into his mouth at the feeling of his strong grip on your legs.

"Come here." He mumbled against your lips. In-ho started to pull you forward and you followed his lead. Between kisses, you lifted yourself so you could settle into his lap and straddle him, your hands holding onto his shoulders, your front against his. You broke the kiss so you could catch your breath, but he wanted more, he was no where near close to being done to having his mouth on you.

Wet kisses were left to the corner of your mouth, your chin until he found your neck. You whined and tilted your head to give him more access, the feeling of it so delicious, you could feel a wetness already forming in between your legs. "That's my good girl." He said, briefly looking at your heavenly face before his lips came back to your neck where he began to lightly suck, his hands moving to your ass. You bit down hard on your bottom lip and whimpered, already feeling so turned on, you wanted to hear him call you that every day.

He started dotting kisses down your neck now, lingering a very hot, open-mouth one to the spot where your neck met your shoulder. "I can't wait to taste all of you." He gripped your ass and you rolled your hips into his. "You want that, baby?" He asked you, lifting his head once again to be right in front of yours. Your cheeks were already growing pink.

"Yes. Please, yes." You nodded, crashing your mouth against his once more. He met your kiss with ease, he was getting drunk on you already and there was still so much more of you waiting to be explored by him.

You were so blissfully surrounded by him, the perfect distraction from everything else you had gone through this day. You'd felt a constant flutter in your chest anytime he had touched you since that first night when he had rubbed your head until you fell asleep. Now that flutter was more alight than ever, bursting with each skilled movement of his lips.

You rolled your hips again, seeking a sensation against your throbbing centre. "Baby," In-ho broke the kiss with a puff of air at the feeling of your pussy grazing over where he had grown hard in his pants. You met his gaze. "Not here." He told you, placing one last peck to your lips and running his hands further up your back. As much as he wanted you, he wanted to make sure it was where you two were truly alone. Your pleasure was for his eyes only.

You whined and dropped your head onto his shoulder, letting out a loud sigh.

He laughed, turning his head so his lips grazed against your ear as he spoke. "That turned on?"

"Shut up." You laughed too.

"I'll take that as a yes."

-----

"To give you some time to think, the vote will be conducted tomorrow."

50 vs 50.

The vote had come out to a tie.

"No." Your voice was barely audible, you felt hopeless.

Everyone turned to walk back, only you and Player 456 were left standing in place. Gi-hun was staring at the numbers on the screen in disbelief. You were watching the guards as they started getting ready to leave.

You knew you wouldn't make it through another game and you didn't want Player 001 putting himself in danger again to keep you safe. You wouldn't forgive yourself if anything were to happen to him. You were desperate to get out.

Briefly, you turned to look back, looking for the man who had become your solace. He was already walking back to the bunks. You looked at him for a few more moments before turning back to the guards, they had all started to turn away to leave. If you had taken a few extra seconds to think about, maybe you wouldn't have acted so impulsively.

But you didn't.

"(Y/N), no!" Gi-hun attempted to stop you as you broke out in a sprint towards one of the guards, he reached out to you but you just slipped out of his grip.

Others turned at the commotion, the people who voted 'O' hoping to see you run right to your death, the people who voted 'X' were worried.

When In-ho turned at the sound of Gi-hun saying your name and he saw what you were doing, he swore his heart stopped beating. "(Y/N)! Stop!" He screamed at you, voice full of distress. Just like Player 456, he ran after you, but he was too many steps behind now. He could control what happened to you when the games were taking place, but if you were running at the guards to attack them in front of all the other players, he couldn't control the outcome of this and it made him panic.

Just as you were about to grab a guards gun, they turned around at the sound of their bosses voice, seeing you right behind them and immediately holding their gun up so the barrel pressed right against your forehead.

You froze and sucked in a breath, the other guards turned and pointed their guns at you. You waited for the sound of a bullet being fired, but it never came. You thought for sure this was going to be your end, this was not behaviour they tolerated.

What you didn't see was the Frontman glaring at them with a warning gaze. His face was hardened in fury at the idea of any of them shooting you and he ever so slightly shook his head to tell them no as subtly as he could without anyone else noticing.

"Move back." The guard commanded at you.

For a moment, you thought about trying to grab the barrel for a last attempt to steal the gun, you knew the speed of your hands would be no match for the trigger on this weapon, but your desire to leave was so strong you considered trying. That was until Player 001's voice sounded out. "(Y/N), listen to them. Come back." You imagined how you would feel if it was him with the gun aimed at his head, the thought of it even too much. So you started to step backwards. The guards kept the guns pointed at you. You could not believe they let you get away with this.

You kept walking backwards, and when your back hit against someone's front, you jumped.

"It's me." Player 001's voice was right in your ear. He grabbed your hand and pulled you behind him. Protecting you again.

-----

"What were you thinking?!" Once the guards had left, In-ho didn't let go of your hand, he pulled you to your bunk with him. He was furious at you for risking your life like that.

"I don't know, I wasn't thinking." You answered him honestly.

"That is clear. That was so stupid, (Y/N)."

"Don't call me stupid."

"Don't be stupid and I won't."

You huffed, crossing your arms as you sat on the side of your bed. "After we lost the vote, I had to try something. I'm not going to make it through another game, I know it. I'm dying tomorrow. That was my last chance to escape."

"I told you, I won't let anything happen to you."

"I know you did, and you got me through today. But we don't know what's coming tomorrow. You can't guarantee that."

Yes I can. He thought, but he couldn't tell you that, not yet. Instead, he let out a deep breath and crouched down in front of you, placing his hands on your knees. He tried to catch your eyes, but you avoided looking at him. "Hey," His hand grabbed your chin, halting your movements and forcing you to look at him. "I can keep you safe if you're next to me. But, with what you did just then to the guards. I have much less of a chance of keeping you safe." But still a chance, he was the Frontman after all. "Do you understand?" He was trying to let you know you would be okay, his role was high and important here.

Plus, after learning Gi-hun's plan for tonight, he had his own plan to finally get you out.

-----

Bullets were flying everywhere, it was chaos, it was loud, it was a war-zone. The third war-zone you'd experienced today. First, it was the game, Mingle. Second, when everyone had started attacking each other when the lights went out. You had hid next to Player 001 during that, your eyes squeezed shut, head tucked away in his neck with his arm around you and his hands covering your ears. Third, was now this. Player 456's plan to take over the games, find the Frontman and end all of this.

Through all of it, In-ho had made sure you were by his side. Currently you were between him and Player 388, who was about to go and get more bullets.

"Dae-ho, are you okay?" You leaned in closer to ask him, you could see on your friends face he wasn't handling this well. He had become more quiet, his face turned pale. You experienced your own panic attack earlier today and you were sure he about too as well.

"Yes." He answered you quietly. It wasn't believable.

Everyone else was too distracted by the fight, busy shooting the guards, but you felt concern for your friend. "I'll go back with yo-"

"No." In-ho interrupted you then, his voice demanding. You turned to look at him and his face was deadly serious. "You are staying with me." He was so close to getting you out, he wouldn't let you go back now. Especially not when bullets were shooting everywhere and you could get hit.

"But, he-"

"He will be fine."

You clenched your jaw tight then.

"(Y/N)," Dae-ho called your name and you turned to look at him, concern displayed all over your face for him. "It's okay, stay here with Young-il. It'll be easier for just one of us to go back than both of us."

You nodded and then leant forward to hug him. "Please be careful."

"I will, you too." He pulled back from the hug to look at you. "I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Okay."

In-ho watched you watch him retreat back. He saw the worry on your face, he knew you cared for him and it made him sick with jealousy. He couldn't wait to get you on your own.

"(Y/N), we have to move now."

Player 456 & 390 went one way while you and Player 001 went another.

He kept his body in a place where it would shield you from the direction the guards were shooting from. Although it seemed that the bullets coming in your direction had significantly lessened. Maybe more guards were on the side Gi-hun had taken.

You hoped they were going to be okay.

Each time you reached a new path that broke off into more than one direction, Player 001 chose which way to go so confidently. You were starting to get anxious at the idea of getting closer to where the people who ran these games were.

"Young-il," you reached out for his hand to stop him.

He halted and immediately turned to you. "Have you been shot?" His eyes scanned over your body, searching for blood.

"No, no," you shook your head. "What's going to happen when we find the people who run this?" You spoke with a panicked tone.

He held your eye contact for a few moments before answering you. "You already have." He admitted.

"What-" Before you had a chance to question or even fully process what he had said, he pulled you into him and kissed you. You allowed him to, more than allowed, you completely welcomed it. Your heart instantly speeding up at the feeling of his skilled mouth on yours.

You were so distracted you didn't see him reach into his pocket for the syringe, he almost felt bad at how easy this was. Almost. He didn't because he had convinced himself this was going to be best for you.

When the needle pricked into your skin, you broke apart from him with a gasp, but his strong arm kept you in place.

"You'll be okay." Was what he told you as your vision very quickly blurred, your body going limp in his hold around you. He scooped you up into this arms.

You attempted to speak, to say anything at all, but you were fast succumbing to what had been injected into you. All you managed to do was let out a little whimper.

"Shh, (Y/N)." In-ho said into your ear, and everything started to go black for you. "Enjoy your rest, baby."

[sc0tters]

A Helping Hand | Jack Hughes & Trevor Zegras

summary: when the boys learn that you've never finished, it's only right that they change that for you.

request: yes/no

warnings: sexual themes, threesome, oral (f & m receiving!), unprotected sex, fingering, swearing, mentions of drinking.

word count: 7.02k

authors note: is it really a trevor and jack threesome from me, without @sweetestdesire's help? no, no it is not... all jokes aside though this may be the dirtiest piece that I have ever written? like i embraced my inner slut, whore and everything inbetween while writing this so I do hope that you enjoy it! I know I did so we may end up with the first series of the year with this one!

Nobody truly remembered how you all got there.

Sat around the camp fire with a blanket thrown over your legs and a beer in your hand. 

It was these little moments at the lake house that you adored so much. Luke was in the chair next to you, allowing you to send him the occasional whisper after the boys did something stupid. 

Tonight was one of those nights as Cole managed to convince the group to play never have I ever, after Quinn’s suggestion of truth or dare was quickly shot down by Jack reminder of how he had to go skinny dipping in the lake. When the boys stole his clothes and locked him outside, it was the first and last time truth or dare made an appearance at the lake house.

You sighed thinking to yourself of a question“never have I ever done the walk of shame.” It was a good one to get most of the guys to drop a finger as Luke had told you about many of their escapades throughout their careers. 

A while left Trevor’s lips “that one isn’t fair!” He grumbled dropping another finger leaving him with only two up.

Alex looked at the group of girls that had joined you guys as he had found one he wanted to make a move on “never have I ever faked an orgasm.” The boy swore he was going to do a dance of happiness when he saw the blonde one he had been talking to, keep her finger up whilst the first around her thought about their answers.

Your finger went down hoping that someone else would have a much more interesting story to share than you “are you seriously telling me that your little football player boyfriend was shit in bed?” Trevor asked as he let out a laugh seeing your cheeks turn a shade of red. 

Jack turned to you, matching his friend’s curious expression “who is to say it was even with him?” It was something he had never even wondered about before, but now everyone’s eyes were on you as most of the people around that fire knew of your entire love life “she does not need to answer if she doesn’t want to.” Quinn sent you a friendly smile, Luke nodded in agreement with this being something that he didn’t even know about. 

You let out a sigh of relief “yeah why don’t we move on?” There was a pleading sense in your voice that made everyone accept your request. 

Well almost everyone, as the night went on and people went home or to bed. You were left with Trevor, Jack and Luke “you want another beer?” Luke asked as he got up with his empty beer bottle “please.” You nodded, the older two boys giving the same response. 

This was the first opportunity that they got to truthfully ask the question that plagued their minds all night “so was it Jake?” Trevor blurted out as he turned his attention to you “what about the theatre kid before him?” Jack truthfully never liked that one, thankfully he only lasted one summer. 

You toyed with your bracelet “if I tell you do you promise to keep it to yourselves?” If it got out you knew half of the people there would never look at you the same. 

Hell you weren’t even sure if Trevor and Jack would see you the same way again “we will not tell a soul.” They both nodded at the same time, practically sat on the edges of their seats. 

You let out a sigh, rubbing your lips together “it was all of them.” Those words made them freeze “you faked it with every single guy you’ve been with?” Jack let out a shocked laugh when you nodded. 

Trevor felt confused “I didn’t realise you were with such shit guys.” Some of the guys had notable reputations too “it wasn’t their faults-” you tried to give them some grace within the situation. 

But Jack was having none of it “if you have to fake it then it is on him.” Of course that’s what he’d say, the man prided himself on how good he was in bed after all. You had been privy to hearing the mutters through the wall when you stayed over to see Luke. 

The Ducks player nodded in agreement “we won’t tell them if you think they were shit.” He added wanting so desperately to hear more of this “it’s me okay!” Your words suddenly made them both go quiet. 

Their eyes went wide “I can’t cum so when I have sex I have to fake it.” Your voice was quieter as you didn’t know where Luke was “and before you ask yes I know my body is clearly broken-” you were cut off by the sound of the sliding door opening from the house. 

Luke walked out with the four beers in his hands “what is broken?” The three of you looked like kids caught with your hands in the cookie jar in that very moment “oh just the door of my closet in the apartment.” You quickly recovered, it wasn’t a lie. In fact, it was actually something you needed to fix.

He stared at you for a moment before he nodded “wait until I visit and I can help you.” Luke offered making you nod “sounds like a plan.” You sent him a smile, ignoring the conversation that you had just had with the boys. 

It seemed that even if you were able to sleep soundly amongst all of Luke’s snoring, Jack and Trevor were plagued with thoughts. Neither one could fall asleep as they sat there thinking about what you had said. 

How was it that a girl like you could have a problem that seemed so unbreakable? 

“Just so we’re both on the same page, she clearly has a shit taste in guys right?” Trevor blurted out as he stared at the ceiling “I mean it has to be that right?” He added not even sure if Jack was listening. 

Jack let out a harsh sigh “but how is she going got accept that?” He rolled over knowing that he shared the same thoughts “well I mean there is one way we could do it.” Trevor trailed off figuring, that it was the should have been obvious. 

The Hughes boy let out a laugh “yeah like she’s ever gonna go for that.” He shook his head rolling over to look out the window as he tried to force himself to go to sleep.

A party echoed out in the yard, music blared through the speakers as you made your way upstairs “I’m telling you that she’s not going to go for it.” Jack pinched the bridge of his nose as he chugged back the remainder of his beer “why not?” Trevor whined crossing his arms. 

He took in a large amount of air in when he sighed “it’s not like she exactly has any other better options than sticking to never coming.” Those words made you freeze in front of their door. Why were they talking about you, and what was their potential option to help you? 

Your cheeks grew warm when your mind began to travel “because you think little miss perfect is gonna fuck the two of us to prove that she just has a shit taste in boys?” Those words made you scoff, it was a response that was a little louder than you had hoped when the boys went quiet “shit.” Jack was quick to open the door. 

Both of them were visibly relieved to see it was just you “care to join us?” Jack smirked at the sight of the irritated expression on your face “I am not little Miss Perfect.” You announced sticking your finger in his face. 

It was the response he wanted, knowing you had taken the bait “so why don’t you give us a chance then?” Trevor spoke up from behind the younger boy who nodded in agreement. 

Your fists clenched into balls “over my dead body.” You were embarrassed as you stormed off in the direction of your room “on a scale of one to ten how badly do you think we fucked up?” Trevor asked hearing the door slam behind you. 

Jack sucked at his teeth “I would lean closer to ten.” He nodded thinking about what would happen if Luke were to find out about what was said. 

The night had grown dark as you tried to push the boys comments back to the bottom of your mind. It was something that so negatively failed, especially when you began to picture those two. 

You had ended up in the bathroom having a shower trying to calm yourself down at first “fuck!” You grumbled letting your fingers thrust into your cunt as the steam stuck to your skin. 

Your body had started to shrivel like a prune due to how long you had been in there. Your body was hot as the image of Jack and Trevor lingered on your mind, picturing how they’d kiss you and morph your body in the ways they wanted to use you. You weren’t an idiot, if they were talking about you then it was clearly a competition in their minds. 

The peaks of your nipples throbbed as this clearly wasn’t working. Defeat wasn’t something that you accept gracefully, and that’s why you muttered to yourself as you grabbed one of Luke’s shirts and threw it on. Bringing your panties up your legs as you sent Luke one last look, as if you were checking that he was indeed asleep. 

You had to try to be quiet as you knew that everyone else was in there room, and with the minimal amounts of chatter that came from Quinn’s room when he spoke to his girlfriend on the phone. It was the timezones that caused him to be awake, but you knew you couldn’t be certain about the other rooms “shit.” You grumbled landing at Trevor and Jacks door to see that there room was empty. Their beds were made with their sandals missing, which only meant that they were downstairs. 

It was a lightbulb moment as you practically raced down using the banister as support. Chatter could be heard from outside and that’s where they were “pass me the blunt.” Jack’s voice was soft, muffled by the glass. 

Your feet brought you up to the door as you sighed knowing that beyond this moment if you wanted to turn back, you wouldn’t be able to “do my eyes deceive me or is little Miss Perfect stood in front of me?” Trevor teased, using the nickname that Jack had as his eyes drank in the sight of you. 

Jack could sense you were nervous “why don’t you come take a hit?” He offered holding the blunt in your direction “don’t know how.” You shook your head, making him smirk. 

Of course, weed was something you hadn’t dabbled in, how were they not surprised “I’ll teach ya.” Jack patted his thigh as he spread his legs open for you to sit there. 

He held the joint between his ring and pointer fingers when you sat down “just suck the air in but don’t inhale it.” The middle Hughes boy knew that you weren’t exactly some chain smoker so he had to help you. 

You nodded as you followed his instructions when he brought the blunt to your lips. Both boys watched on when Jack let his hand travel up the inside of her thigh “there we go.” He cooed until you let out a cough. 

It made them softly laugh when you shook your head “never doing that again.” You announced assuming that it would have done something to calm the nerves that ran through your veins.

Jack brought the blunt to his lips “what brought you down here?” He asked looking at his watch, you were usually fast asleep “I couldn’t sleep.” You confessed wanting sigh when you felt the breeze brush past you. 

Trevor smiled at your words “anything particular that brought the late shower on?” It was clear that your hair was still wet as it drenched the back of the shirt that you made into a dress “do you think you guys can really fix me?” The words made the two boys freeze. 

It wasn’t something that they thought you would come around to “because if I have to spend another fucking unsatisfactory night with fingers between my thighs I’m going to shoot someone.” Jack let out a soft laugh hearing your confession. 

He smiled bringing his lips to your cheek to kiss “you gonna be a good girl for us?” He quizzed you, circling his thumb on the inside of your thigh “let us break you?” He added which made you whimper in response.

Trevor almost felt jealous at how far away he was from you “why don’t we move this inside?” His proposal made your head snap in his direction. You seemed to sense where the boy came from “c’mon pretty girl.” Jack patted your thigh signalling to you to get up. 

Jack had never been more grateful for the fact that he picked a room downstairs, which you at the moment seemed to so happily run into “c’mere.” Trevor shut the door behind him. 

He brought his hands up to cup your cheeks. A grin plastered on his face as your head tilted in his direction so that he could kiss you. There present taste of beer mixed with the weed on his tongue that he dragged over your lower lip. A moan escaped your lips as Jack placed his hands on your hips “didn’t forget about you too.” you confessed, turning your head so that you could kiss him too. 

It was rougher when Trevor turned his attention to your neck. His kisses were hungry as he sucked at the skin “n-no marks.” You gasped not wanting to worry about covering more than your bikinis already did. 

Jack finally took a step back as he looked at you “why don’t you show us how you normally try to get off?” Jack’s fingers danced over the hem of Luke’s shirt that hung over your knee. 

Trevor nodded in agreement “doll, it ain’t like we don’t see those pathetic bikinis you wear.” His words were sharp, making you listen as you took a step back, “like you want us to know what is under ‘em.” He added, allowing his eyes to burn your skin.

The boys watched in awe as your fingers gripped at the ends of the shirt, you took in a deep breath in like it was meant to give you some newfound confidence. The room grew warmed as you pulled the white t-shirt off of your body, letting it fall onto the floor when you now stood in just a white thong. They both stood in silence, causing you to bite at your lip with your confidence immediately wavering.

You were quick to reach down wanting to grab the shirt, assuming that the boys thought this was a mistake or that you weren’t as pretty as they thought you’d be “let us get a good look at ya.” Trevor’s hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping you from leaning over any further. 

 A whistle left his lips when you stood up straight “never thought these tits could ever have looked better than when they were in those bikinis.” His voice was a low growl, letting his fingers cup at your breasts before he gave them a squeeze. 

The feeling made a moan get caught in your throat “god imagine what she’s hiding under those panties?” Trevor turned to Jack, not letting his hands move from your boobs that his thumbs began to massage. 

Possibilities felt endless “you wanna let us see?” Jack asked making you nod. Trevor kissed at your neck whilst you locked your fingers into the sides of your panties. 

The fabric brushed against your skin when Trevor looked down to see your bare mound “don’t know how any of those boyfriends of yours used to let you leave them.” He sighed pressing a kiss against your cheek. 

Jack nodded in agreement “if we had a say you’d always be around ready for us.” Those words made you squirm and force your thighs together. 

Neither one of them were an idiot, easily sensing the effect they had on you “can you sit on the bed for me sweet girl?” Jack cooed tilting your jaw up to him so that he could kiss you. 

That kiss helped settle some of your nerves as you nodded. You sat on the edge of Jacks bed “higher.” Trevor motioned to you to move higher up the bed. 

You drove your hips up until you got sat in the middle of his bed “now why don’t you show us how you get off?” After all that was the entire reason that you were there so it made sense they watched you first.

When you lay down on the bed the boys looked at you like you were the sight for sore eyes “c’mon you can show us.” Trevor’s voice oozed this sense of cockiness as he motioned to you to start, brushing those waves of uncertainty aside.

Your heels pushed up to your ass as you spread your lefs open, seeing the boys stare back at you “need to make it wet.” You whimpered feeling Jack kneel into the bed. 

He took two of his fingers to spread your folds open, saliva pooled in his mouth before he let his spit fall onto your cunt. It ran down your clit making you squirm “that enough?” Jack asked standing back up straight as you nodded. 

You brought your fingers down your stomach and to your slit. The two fingers rubbed over your sensitive nub making the boy’s pants grow tight, your fingers travelled to your cunt as you let them thrust into the hole. The pace you used seemed to be a happy medium using Jack’s spit as some kind of lube that let your fingers create a squelching sound. 

Jack felt his throat grow tight “you think that you add another finger?” He could see how your eyes stuck on his now-formed boner “you want some encouragement?” The boy smirked when you nodded. 

Neither one hesitated to drop their pants as they pulled their cocks out of their boxers “can’t fit.” You shook your head watching as your mouth watered seeing them palm their members. 

Trevor sucked at his teeth “know you can do it.” He encouraged but still that didn’t seem to be enough. 

Your free hand went up to cup your boob, going tease your nipple that had been throbbing since it felt the cool air of Jack’s room “need help.” You pleaded, only ever having two fingers in your hole. Even the guys you dated seemed to stop at two, thinking that it was the perfect number. 

Jack took his precum over the head of his cock as he rubbed it down his length “why don’t you pick who.” If he had it his way he wouldn’t have even given Trevor a chance to get you first. 

When your eyes didn’t leave the Devils players it seemed your answer was written on the walls “no hard feels right?” He smirked tucking his cock back into boxers before he joined you on the bed. 

You sat up letting your back rest against his headboard “gonna relax f’me okay?” Jack asked watching you pull your own fingers from your cunt “okay.” You nodded letting your eyes shut when his thumb circled your clit. 

In the beginning he opted to start easy, with two fingers it was only slightly bigger than what you could fit in yourself “shit.” You whimpered letting your teeth sink into your bottom lip. 

His fingers grazed the spongey area of your cunt “uh huh baby want to hear you.” Jack kissed at your neck wanting to hear you scream “feels good.” You confessed making him nod. 

Jack pressed these opened-mouthed kisses on your jaw as he felt you clench around him “you see how hard you make him?” The Hughes boy turned his eyes to Trevor who palmed his cock at an even quicker pace “feel how hard you make me?” Jack brought your hand with his free one over his boxers. 

You took the time to feel his hard appendage and with that, Jack slid a third finger into your cunt “fuck!” Your toes curled at the new sensation. 

Jack lowered his head to your boob letting his lips wrap around your nipple “right there.” Your head rested against the cool wood behind you. 

His fingers felt every inch of you, the way your cunt clenched around his digits that attacked your needy hole “think you should get her clit Z.” Jack’s words made you whimper as you saw the boy’s swollen red tip look desperate for more of your attention “such a pretty girl ain’t she?” Trevor nodded, joining you on the other side of the bed. 

But he didn’t take the liberty of tucking himself away as he let his fingers tap on your lower lip “and a good listener too huh?” He teased watching your mouth suck at his fingers. 

He was forced to pull them out, not wanting to get too carried away “don’t stop.” There was a feeling you had never felt as Jack curled his fingers in this come hither motion. Trevor added to it letting his fingers drop down between Jacks hand and your clit. His calloused fingers were rough “fuck!” You called out watching Trevor drop his face to your chest. 

The boy clicked his tongue “look at this poor fucking tit all ignored.” He sighed not giving you a chance to respond as he too wrapped his lips around your other nipple. 

Looking down it was a sight of dreams as each boy sucked at your nipples, working in tandem on your clit and your cunt “I feel funny.” You confessed making them both look at each other.

It was encouragement for them to increase the pace of their fingers as Trevor rubbed your clit faster and Jack increased the pace of his thrusts “I think I’m gonna.” You trailed off with wide eyes as your body began to shake not sure if the pleasure was coming from your nipples, clit or cunt, or even a mixture of all three. 

Jack made a muffled grunt against your nipple that sent you over the edge, your face scrunched your face up letting your head jolt. Your cunt clenched around Jacks fingers as your body didn’t stop squirming. The boys didn’t stop there though as they brought you through your orgasm. 

The Hughes boy let his fingers begin to slow as your release didn’t seem to grow any sloppier around his digits “shit baby.” Jack let your nipple drop from his mouth with a pop. Your chest heaved as you nodded enough.” You whimpered feeling them retract their fingers away from you as Trevor finally let your other breast go. 

Trevor and Jack looked at the sight that you were in front of them “why don’t you taste yourself.” Jack offered his fingers bringing them into your mouth “so you can remember your first orgasm.” He added as Trevor had a devilish look in his eyes.

You went to turned your attention to the other boy whilst still sucking on Jacks fingers “I want a proper taste.” Trevor announced settling in between your legs. 

Your body was still sensitive and Jack was able to pick upon that “hey pretty girl.” His voice was soft, his fingers gripped at your jaw turning your head in his direction. 

His eyes caught yours “don’t worry about him right now?” Jack reassured you as Trevor kissed at your thigh “you want to still feel so good right?” Trevor asked wrapping his arm around your thigh when he blew against your cunt. 

The sensation made you squirm “please.” You nodded switching your gaze between both boys “a guy ever eaten this pretty cunt before?” Trevor ran his finger down your slit when he pressed a kiss against your other thigh. 

Jack focused his lips against the hollow of your collarbone “none.” But that wasn’t to say that you never wanted it, the guys you were with just wanted it to be you who went down on them “can’t believe you fucking thought you were the problem.” Jack clicked his tongue watching your eyes stick on Trevor. 

The boy mindlessly stared at your cunt, like he had never seen something so glorious “kiss?” You pleaded looking at Jack who couldn’t help but nod at you. 

His fingers gripped at your jaw as he started kissing you slowly at first. Trevor felt his cock throb watching the scene unfold in front of him. Jacks tongue ended up in your mouth and the Ducks player decided he couldn’t be the only one not having any fun. 

Trevor wrapped his other arm around your bare thigh, allowing your feet to settle on his shoulder blades “fucking hell.” His voice barely above a whisper before his head dropped against your cunt.

His mouth latched over your clit first making you moan into Jacks mouth “such a sweet cunt.” Trevor moaned sending shivers up your spine. The boy let his tongue travel to your weeping hole, his nose grazed your clit as he thrusted his tongue in against your walls. 

Your head fell back as Jack looked down “be a good girl and look at how good Z his making you feel.” He sucked at your earlobe making you whimper. 

Trevor’s eyes locked onto yours, his arms slightly loosened around your legs allowing you to drive your hips close to him “fuck z.” You moaned feeling Jack cup your tits once again “Jacky you’re missing out here.” Trevor confessed placing his thumb on your clit before he went back to fucking you with his tongue. 

Your eyes screwed shut as you felt Jack softly laugh against your skin “don’t have to worry because we’ve got plenty more in ya.” He looked at you through his devilishly long lashes “don’t we baby?” Jack asked as he sucked at your jaw. 

Silence swallowed you up when pleasure lulled in your ears. Trevor had been paying attention which made him scoff “he asked you a question doll.” The boy cupped his hand as he lay a smack against your cunt. 

The movement made you jolt when your eyes burst open “ahh,” you whimpered almost folding your body over “‘m sorry.” You apologised letting your lips form a pout. 

Trevor accepted the apology as he continued. He pressed a kiss against your clit “we just want you to be a good girl.” He sighed licking a stripe down your slit. 

Your thighs tensed around his head “because we don’t have to punish you then.” Your cunt clenched around his tongue as it lolled back into your hole “just wanna make you feel so good tonight.” Jack confessed going back to kissing your lips as you quickly became like a drug to him. 

There was the slightest scent of your perfume that was still on your skin that invaded his nostrils “please.” You nodded practically feeling like a brand new woman as the boys focused on you. 

Jack nodded running his fingers over your collarbone “c’mon sweet girl.” Jack cooed as you bit at your lip “you let this house hear you or else we’re gonna stop.” He warned squeezing your cheeks in his hand. 

Trevor pulled his tongue from your entrance before he let it lay flat running against your clit “seems like little miss perfect wants that.” Trevor taunted latching his lips around the sensitive nub. 

Jack gasped toying with your nipple between his fingers “you want Lukey to see what we are doing to his best friend?” The image made your voice quiver “h-he can’t.” You whimpered shaking your head. 

The boy between your thighs smirked “shame to keep this pretty pussy a secret.” Trevor sighed pressing a kiss against your clit “when she’s all soaked for us, it’s better to keep it our think no?” Jack asked pressing a wet kiss against your throat when you arched your back. 

The Ducks player let his tongue swirl around your sensitive nub, creating a healthy rhythm that caused your thighs to squeeze against his head “all for you.” You nodded with your voice turning breathy, almost angelic to the duo.

Those words went straight to the boys cocks that they were still so desperate to just let burst out, letting it soak your skin “can’t believe you tried to act like you were too good for us.” Jack pinched at your side making you jolt “I’m sorry.” You cried, your throat feeling raw as your heels pushed against Trevor’s shoulder blades. 

Jack smiled raking his fingers through your hair “‘s okay.” He mumbled pecking your lips “all that matters is that you’re here now.” Jack kissed you harder that time when your nails dug into his thigh. 

Trevor let his lips go from your clit as you whimpered not aware of how that hurt him more to stop than you could have known “please she’s been wanting to be a dumb little slut for us.” Trevor’s words were rough as he thrusted his fingers into your cunt. 

His were longer than Jacks but they weren’t as smooth either “please.” You begged clenching your walls around his digits “please what?” Trevor softly bit that the inside of your thigh. 

Your eyes almost rolled back into your head while Jack kissed at your shoulder “make me cum.” You whined wanting nothing more than to feel the high you felt earlier on “how can I say no to that.” Trevor clicked his tongue as he went back to sucking at your clit. 

His fingers did this scissoring motion stretching you out around him. The squelching noises echoed against the walls of the room, mixing with the sounds of your moans that slipped through Jacks kisses “such a spoilt girl ain’t ya.” Jack saw the sweat that formed on your stomach. 

You nodded whimpering against him “want you to cum really good for him okay?” Those words made your toes curl as the coil tightened in your stomach “can I?” You nodded not knowing it was possible for you to do it again. 

Trevor nodded refusing to slow down his thrusts as he grinded his hips into the bed beneath him. Words left your lips in a shaky chant “please fuck please.” You begged squirming as he didn’t relent running his tongue over your clit. 

You huffed shaking your head “c’mon sweet girl you can let go.” Jack egged you on kissing your lips, swallowing the moans from your mouth. 

Your legs shook when Trevor fingered you through your high, your release coating his fingers when the coil snapped in your stomach “shit, holy shit.” Your chest heaved letting your fingers tug at Trevor’s hair to pull him off of you. 

His fingers dropped from your cunt went you kissed him. Your release shone on his chin “fuck.” Trevor moaned feeling your tongue brush against his, your walls clenched around nothing as you knew it was the taste of your pussy on his tongue. 

Jack grunted from beside you as you turned back to look at him. There was a smile on your lips “you ready for one more?” He asked pushing your hair out of your face when you nodded. 

It made Trevor laugh “of course she is.” He mumbled tugging at the hair on the nape of your neck so that he could kiss you again. You felt as if the wind was knocked out of you with the amount of passion in it. 

A moan escaped from your lips “wanna taste you.” Your confession made his cock throb “how can I say no when a little slut asks me so nicely?” He nodded cupping your jaw as he smiled. 

Jack gripped at your sides “gonna let me fuck you while he does that?” Those words made you nod. 

You weren’t entirely sure how it happened but before you knew it Jack was on the end of the bed with his legs hanging over. You were hovering over his hips and of course Trevor stood over you, taking in the sight that you were through your thick eyelashes “remember when you thought you were too good to entertain us?” Trevor taunted you like those words hadn’t been spoken mere hours ago. 

You nodded feeling Jack kiss your shoulder blade “well I think it’s time you give us an apology for being such a fucking brat.” His words were harsh as Jack dragged the head of his cock against your clit “I’m sorry Trevor.” Jacks hand held your hip stopping you from sinking into his cock. 

Trevor laughed shaking his head “you gotta do a whole lot better than that.” His fingers brushed through your hair “and that’s gonna start with you getting on his dick okay?” You were eager to please them both. 

Jack let out a grunt “condom?” He asked when your head leaned against his shoulder “on the pill.” Your words made him gasp finally letting your cunt sink down on his cock. 

The ducks player smirked watching how your jaw went slack “shit this cunt is-wow.” Jack let his teeth gnaw at your shoulder blade. 

Neither one of you moved, taking the chance let your walls stretch around his cock. Trevor palmed himself watching how your eyes screwed shut enjoying how the boy felt inside of you “gonna have to try it one day too.” He nodded as you finally started lifting yourself up against Jack “you ready f’me to fuck you huh?” Jack asked, your head bobbed with your one hand resting on his thigh your nails digging into his skin. 

Jacks blue orbs burnt into the back of your head “this cunt is so perfect god.” He barked wrapping his one arm around your waist to keep your back flush against his chest “don’t stop.” The Devils player drunk in your whimpers while you squirmed. 

He adjusted his legs so that you had spread yours around his. Letting the feelings of pleasure soak over you, not sure how much more of him you could actually take. A grunt came from in front of you, reminding you that it wasn’t just you and Jack in that room.

Trevor’s precum oozed out of his cock and you swore you could see a smirk on his face when your mouth watered “you wanna suck my cock?” He asked watching you nodded. 

His breath grew short when you used your tongue to spread his liquid around his length “shit this mouth is-” Trevor cut himself off as you took more of his cock in your mouth. 

His fingers messily tugged at your hair forming a loose pony at the back of your head, encouraging you to work his cock between your lips “you want more?” He asked seeing how you looked up at him through your eyelashes. 

Jack had settled into a rhythm he liked unintentionally knocking your hand off of him. This cause you to reach out at Trevor’s thighs “fuck.” Both boys spoke through gritted teeth as Trevor’s cock hit your throat causing tears to spill from your eyes when you clenched around Jacks cock. 

The ducks player watched how you worked your tongue on the underside of his length “don’t stop pretty girl.” He nodded hearing the squelching of your cunt as Jack fucked you “yeah sweets we wanna use you proper.” Jack cooed gripping at your hip, pinching at the skin. 

You moaned around Trevor almost toppling him over “think you like the idea of us using you.” His words were full of desire, fantasies forming in his mind wanting to go through with them in that moment. 

Sweat stuck to your skin, turning you into a whimper mess “god you’re such a cock hungry slut.” Trevor muttered tugging at your hair eliciting another moan from your lips

The sensation made his eyes screw shut “fuck I’m gonna cum.” Trevor response was mangled, Jack started chasing his own high that was quickly approaching when he heard that message “you gonna let me make a mess in this pretty little mouth of yours?” He brought his one hand forward from your hair. 

His thumb brushed against your cheek “mhm.” Tears streamed down your cheeks while your eyes darted up to his. 

Trevor’s movements increased fucking your face as if you were his own hand. He took that moment before he became undone. His hand held you in place so his release hit the back of your throat all at once. 

Your throat gagged at the new sensation causing his cock to twitch before he went lax letting go of your hair. You hollowed out your cheeks as you let your lips swallow every last drop of what had been on his skin cleaning him up in the process. 

Gasps escaped from your lips causing droplets of his release to drip out of the side of your mouth “don’t go making a mess now.” Trevor clicked his tongue catching it with his thumb before he brought it into your mouth. 

Your lips wrapped around his digit swirling your tongue around it like it was his cock all over again “fuck I’m gonna make a mess in this pussy.” Jack announced feeling that he was close. 

His pace turned animalistic and if Trevor wasn’t in front of you, you swore you would have fallen over “such a tight cunt.” The boy moaned with his eyes glued to the way your folds swallowed his cock. 

Trevor felt himself grow hard again “such a pretty little cock drunk slut ain’t ya?” He asked watching your eyes grow glassy “yeah.” You cried hearing how your thighs slapped against Jack with every thrust of his cock. 

He almost felt as if he could feel your guts he was so deep, touch places you didn’t even know were in you “needed you both so bad.” You were surprised you were able to form a coherent sentence “knew you were always gonna be so desperate for us.” Trevor almost laughed watching your head bob as you nodded along. 

Your mouth watered seeing how his cock still oozed while his hand ran along the underside of it “you wanna feel this too pretty girl?” It was almost the sweetest thing he had said that night. 

It seemed to throw you off as you chewed at your lip sensing you were close “or maybe we should stop until this little slut remembers how to talk.” The threat held no weight as Jack was far too close with your walls squeezing his cock to let you off of him, but that wasn’t something that you considered “please Z.” Your moan sounded like you were a pornstar letting the whimpers of desperation escape from your throat. 

Trevor crouched down pumping his cock once more before he let the head sit in your clit “shit doll you like that?” Jack asked feeling you clench around him “so good.” You nodded letting your head fall against his shoulder. 

The sight was something Trevor swore should have been in the Louvre. His cock dragged over your clit matching the pace of Jacks thrusts. The Hughes boy was desperate to get you to cum first because he knew that the moment he finish he was a goner. 

Trevor begun to kiss at your throat which he now had the perfect spot to do as such “go on.” Trevor mumbled sucking at your sweet skin “make a mess on Jacky boys cock.” Your breathy gasps filled the room as your eyes screwed shut. 

Jack grunted from behind you “yeah baby make a mess for me.” Between Jacks cock fucking you senseless, Trevor’s cock against your clit and now both boys marking up your throat you were done. 

You shuttered out a cry while your face contorted letting tears fall from your shut eyes as your orgasm ripped through you. Neither boy stopped what they were doing, wanting to guide you through your orgasm “shit shit so good!” Jack sputtered out feeling your cunt clench around him. 

His eyes practically rolled back into his head as his cock shot warm sticky ropes of release into your cunt “fucking hell.” Trevor softly laughed against your throat when the younger boy lulled his thrusts before he kissed your shoulder. 

Your chest heaved trying to catch your breath you lay against Jack slowly coming back to, before you softly clenched around him remembering that he was still there “you with us baby?” Jack asked brushing your hair out of your face. 

You nodded gripping onto Trevor’s arm to help yourself up “damn.” Jack mumbled looking down at where you had been sat. A mix of your release and Jacks oozed out of your cunt and down the inside of your thigh as you used Trevor to support you. 

Trevor’s eyes followed Jacks before he let out a soft gasp “you know you could do that?” His hand squeezed at your hip before he set you on the bed next to the devils player. 

You shook your head “do what?” You asked growing confused “this broken girl just squirted.” Trevor scooped the release that had fallen before he thrusted his fingers into your cunt once more “we can’t have you forgetting about this now can we?” He asked watching your hand try to wrap around his wrist to stop him. 

Jack smirked seeing how you dropped back onto the bed, allowing your face to contort as you felt with a mix of pleasure and overstimulation “silly girl this summer is only just getting started.” The devils player nipped at your ear knowing that you weren’t going anywhere anytime soon.

Because here is to the summer you’ll never forget. 

[auggieblogs]

The brow incident | Spencer Reid

Spencer Reid x fem! reader

Author’s note: Hiii, loves!!! Hope you all are doing good. My first Spencer fic and definitely not my last because I cannot for the love of god, get that man out of mind. I AM OBSESSED so please expect criminal minds fics in the future. Anywaysss, happy reading💗

Warning: sexual innuendos

―୨୧⋆ ˚masterlist

“Spence,” you said sweetly, leaning against the back of the chair he had just sat in. “You know how much I love you, right?”

Spencer glanced up at you suspiciously, his eyes narrowing. “Yes… and I feel like you’re about to weaponize that love against me.”

You grinned. “Not against you. For you. Your eyebrows, to be specific.”

He groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “We’ve talked about this, Y/N. They’re fine. They don’t need fixing.”

(For weeks, you’d been trying to convince him to let you fix his eyebrows. Not that they were bad, per se, but there was just a little untamed chaos there that you knew you could tame.)

“They’re not fine. You’ve got stray hairs everywhere, and it’s driving me insane. I just want to clean them up a little!”

“I’d like to remind you that I’m a grown man and perfectly capable of managing my own eyebrows,” he protested, even though you both knew he never did.

You sighed dramatically. “You’ve left me no choice.”

Before he could protest further, you climbed onto his lap, straddling him and effectively trapping him in the chair.

“Y/N! What are you doing?” he exclaimed, his hands instinctively moving to steady you at your waist.

“Taking matters into my own hands,” you said with a smirk, pulling a pair of tweezers out of your pocket.

Spencer groaned again, his cheeks flushing pink. “This is unfair. You’re using my inability to physically overpower you against me.”

“Correct,” you chirped. “Now, hold still.”

He muttered something about how this was a violation of his personal space, but he didn’t move. You leaned in, examining his brows with laser focus.

“Okay, this won’t hurt too much,” you promised, carefully plucking the first stray hair.

“OW!” he yelped, flinching.

“Oh, stop being a baby,” you teased, gripping his chin to steady him. “One down, a hundred to go.”

Spencer huffed, his hands instinctively resting on your waist to keep you balanced. “I don’t even know why this is necessary. No one’s looking at my eyebrows that closely.”

“I am,” you replied, plucking another hair.

“Lucky me,” he grumbled, but you caught the ghost of a smile on his lips.

The next few minutes were filled with his exaggerated whining and your mock scolding, the both of you laughing more than anything else. But then, as you leaned in to focus on a particularly stubborn hair, you shifted slightly on his lap.

That’s when you felt it.

Your movements stilled, and you glanced down, realizing exactly what had happened. A slow grin spread across your face as you looked up at Spencer, whose cheeks were already turning a deep shade of red.

“Oh,” you said, trying—and failing—not to laugh.

“Don’t,” he warned, his tone a mix of mortification and desperation.

You burst out laughing, unable to help yourself. The sight of his flushed face and his clear discomfort was just too funny. “Oh my God, Spencer! This is hilarious.”

“It’s not hilarious,” he muttered, his voice muffled as he hid his face in his hands. “It’s biology. It’s involuntary.”

“Involuntary, huh?” you teased, leaning forward just enough to make him groan in protest. “So you’re saying this has nothing to do with me?”

“Y/N,” he pleaded, his voice a low warning. “This is serious.”

“It’s seriously funny,” you said, still laughing as you climbed off his lap, much to his relief—and apparent dismay.

But before you could move far, his hand shot out, gripping your wrist. “You can’t just leave me like this,” he said, his voice soft but laced with need.

You raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “Leave you like what, Spence?”

“You know what,” he said, his pout returning full force. “You started this. You should finish it.”

His words sent a pleasant shiver down your spine, but you couldn’t resist teasing him just a little longer. “Finish your eyebrows first?”

Spencer let out a groan, leaning back in the chair with a defeated look. “You’re impossible.”

You laughed, leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek. “And yet, you love me.”

He sighed, his lips twitching into a reluctant smile. “I do. Even when you’re torturing me.”

You grinned, stepping closer and letting your fingers trail along his jaw. “Tell you what, Dr. Reid. If you’re a good boy and let me finish your eyebrows, I’ll see what I can do about… your problem.”

His eyes darkened slightly at your tone, and he swallowed hard. “Deal.”

“Good,” you said with a wink, grabbing the tweezers again. “Now hold still.”

[scoupsakakitty]

A little Life | idol!Minghao x Reader | angst, fluff

TW: Medical procedures, Miscarriage

“Are you serious right now, Minghao?”

Her voice shattered the silence of the apartment, cutting through the stillness like a storm. Y/N stood in the middle of the living room, arms crossed tightly over her chest, her frustration clear in every tense line of her body.

Minghao froze in the doorway, the strap of his bag still slung over his shoulder. His hair was messy from a long day at the studio, and his usually calm expression shifted into confusion as he blinked at her. “What’s wrong? What did I do now?” he asked cautiously, his voice low.

Y/N let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “What’s wrong? That’s what you always say, Minghao. Like you don’t see it. Like you don’t feel it.”

He set his bag down by the door, his posture straightening. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about this,” she gestured between them, her voice rising. “This… whatever this is. We’ve been doing this for months, Hao. We act like a couple, but we’re not. You’ve never even asked me to be your girlfriend. And I’m supposed to be okay with that? With the way you send me mixed signals all the time?”

Minghao’s brows furrowed, and his lips pressed into a thin line. “That’s not fair,” he said quietly. “You know I care about you.”

“Do I?” Y/N’s voice cracked, her frustration spilling over. “Because one minute, you’re sweet and caring, and the next, you’re cold and distant. I’m always left wondering where I stand with you. Do you even want me in your life, or am I just convenient for you?”

His jaw tightened. “That’s not what this is.”

“Then what is it, Hao?” she demanded, her eyes glistening. “If you don’t want me, just say it. If you don’t see a future with me, tell me now, so I can stop wasting my time.”

He opened his mouth to respond but hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor.

Her heart sank at his silence. She turned away, running a hand through her hair as she tried to steady her breathing. “You can’t even say it,” she muttered, bitterness lacing her tone.

Just as she took a step to leave the room, a sharp, searing pain shot through her lower abdomen. She gasped, clutching her stomach as her legs buckled beneath her.

“Y/N!” Minghao’s voice was full of panic as he rushed to her side, catching her before she hit the ground. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

“Don’t… touch me,” she managed through gritted teeth, her body trembling from the intensity of the pain.

“You’re clearly not okay,” he said, his voice shaking as he tried to steady her. “We need to get you to a hospital.”

She tried to push him away, her pride refusing to let him see her like this. “I’m fine,” she whispered, though the pain was unbearable.

But before she could protest further, the world around her spun, and she collapsed in his arms.————————————————————————————-The faint hum of monitors and the sterile smell of antiseptic filled the hospital room. Minghao sat in a chair outside, his hands gripping his knees as Mingyu stood beside him, a comforting presence amidst the chaos.

“She’ll be okay,” Mingyu said quietly, though the worry in his eyes mirrored Minghao’s.

“She fainted in my arms, Mingyu,” Minghao muttered, his voice trembling. “She was in so much pain, and I couldn’t do anything. What if…”

Before he could finish, the doctor approached them, holding a clipboard. “Mr. Xu?”

Minghao shot to his feet. “How is she? Is she okay?”

The doctor nodded, her expression softening slightly. “She’s stable now,” she said. “But there’s something I need to tell you. Y/N is pregnant.”

Minghao’s breath caught in his throat. “Pregnant?”

“Yes,” the doctor confirmed. “She was showing early signs of a miscarriage due to the severe cramping and stress. However, we were able to stabilize her and the baby. They’re both okay.”

Minghao exhaled shakily, his knees nearly giving out in relief. “They’re okay?”

The doctor smiled gently. “Yes. And… it’s a girl.”

A girl. The words hit him like a wave, his chest tightening as emotions swirled inside him shock, relief, fear, and a deep sense of responsibility.

“A girl,” he repeated softly, his voice trembling.

“Yes,” the doctor said. “But I need you to understand how critical it is for her to avoid stress from now on. Both she and the baby are in a delicate state, and any additional strain could put them at risk again. She’ll need plenty of rest and support.”

“I’ll make sure of it,” Minghao said firmly, determination hardening his voice.

As the doctor walked away, Mingyu placed a hand on Minghao’s shoulder. “Hey, man, deep breath. She’s okay. The baby’s okay. You’re going to be a dad.”

Minghao ran a hand through his hair, his mind racing. “I’m gonna be a dad.. How do I tell her, Gyu? She doesn’t even know. And after everything I said to her tonight…”

“You tell her the truth,” Mingyu said simply. “And you make things right. No more mixed signals, Hao. It’s time to step up.”

Y/N stirred, her eyes fluttering open as the soft glow of the hospital lights came into focus. She winced at the stiffness in her body, her hand instinctively moving to her stomach.

“Y/N.”

Her gaze shifted to the side, where Minghao sat by her bedside, his hand wrapped gently around hers. His face was pale, his eyes red-rimmed as if he’d been crying.

“What happened?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“You fainted,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “The doctors had to run some tests and… and perform a procedure.”

Her brows knitted together in confusion. “What kind of procedure?”

He swallowed hard, his grip on her hand tightening. “Y/N, you’re pregnant.”

Her breath hitched, her eyes widening as she stared at him. “I’m… what?”

“You’re pregnant,” he repeated, his voice trembling. “You were experiencing severe cramping, signs of a possible miscarriage. But the doctors were able to stabilize you and the baby.”

Her free hand moved to her stomach again, tears welling up in her eyes. “The baby… are they okay?”

Minghao’s lips curved into a soft, emotional smile. “Yes,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “She’s okay.”

“She?” Y/N repeated, her eyes widening.

“She,” he confirmed, his voice cracking slightly. “We’re having a little girl.”

Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks as she tried to process the weight of his words. She looked at him, her heart aching at the raw vulnerability in his eyes.

“Hao,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” he said, pressing his forehead against hers. “You and our baby are everything to me.”

“I know I haven’t been the best for you,” he said, his voice breaking. “I’ve been afraid and unsure, but none of that matters anymore. You and our daughter… you’re all that matters. I love you, Y/N. I’ve always loved you. And I want to do this together.”

She reached out, her hand cupping his face. “I love you too,” she whispered, her tears mingling with his. “But I need you to mean it, Hao. I need you to be sure.”————————————————————————————-The soft coos of a newborn filled the living room as Minghao gently rocked the tiny bundle in his arms. Their daughter, wrapped snugly in a pastel pink blanket, looked up at him with curious eyes, her small hand grasping his finger.

Y/N sat on the couch, smiling softly at the sight before her. She was tired, but the warmth in her heart made every sleepless night worth it.

“Look at you,” Minghao murmured to his daughter, his voice filled with wonder. “You’re so perfect. Just like your mom.”

A knock at the door interrupted the quiet moment. Y/N called out, “Come in!”

Mingyu stepped into the room, carrying a bag of gifts and snacks. His eyes immediately lit up at the sight of the baby. “There she is!” he exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear as he approached. “Come to Uncle Mingyu!”

Minghao raised an eyebrow, holding the baby protectively. “You’re a little loud, don’t you think? She just fell asleep.”

Mingyu waved him off. “Please. Babies love me. Watch this.” He leaned closer, his voice softening. “Hey, little one. It’s your favorite uncle. Aren’t you the cutest?”

To Minghao’s surprise, the baby stirred but didn’t cry, her little face relaxing at Mingyu’s voice.

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “Looks like she already likes you.”

“Of course she does,” Mingyu said proudly, taking a seat next to Y/N. “I’m the fun uncle. I’ll teach her everything, how to walk, how to talk, how to annoy her dad—”

“Absolutely not,” Minghao interrupted, glaring at him.

Mingyu smirked. “Relax, Dad. You’ll thank me later when she’s got my charm.”

Y/N chuckled, leaning her head against Minghao’s shoulder as she watched their daughter yawn and snuggle closer into his arms.

Minghao looked down at his daughter, his expression softening. “She’s not learning anything from you until she’s at least twenty.”

“Oh, come on,” Mingyu teased. “By then, she’ll already have me wrapped around her finger. Just wait.”

The room filled with quiet laughter, the kind that spoke of love, family, and a future full of joy.

Minghao glanced at Y/N, his eyes meeting hers in a moment of shared understanding. He reached out, his free hand intertwining with hers.

“She’s lucky to have you,” Y/N whispered.

“We’re lucky to have each other,” Minghao replied, pressing a kiss to her temple.

And as the three of them sat there, surrounded by warmth and the promise of a beautiful life ahead, their little family felt complete.————————————————————————————-

[yoonjae20]

Ric(hard) Fenton; Part 1

(Once again slightly inspired by @saltymarshmall0w 's prompt.)

Read on ao3.

Masterpost.

“B, didn’t you promise us as you’d tell if there was a possibility of another secret child?” Tim asks as he stares at the black haired boy, who looks like he had been to hell and back to get here, with blue eyes — because of course, they are blue —  in front of the Manor’s door. 

He can’t help but feel unnerved by the way the boy evaded their security measures and how he hasn’t said a single word since Tim opened the door even when he can see the boy’s hands tremble.

“Yes?” Bruce's voice floats from further in the Manor, his barely audible gaunt drawing near.

“Then who the hell is this?” he asks just as the man turns the corner. He freezes at the sight of the kid, literally blue screening as he takes him in. 

“Actually he’s mine,” a too chipper voice announces and Tim nearly jumps out of skin as he turns to Dick.

The young man must see both Tim and Bruce doing the mental calculations in their heads because he interrupts before they can draw the wrong conclusions.

“If Bruce can go around adopting children, I can do the same.” Then he turns to the boy. “You can come in, Danny.” 

Tim is eerily reminded of a wary, frightened cat as the boy — Danny moves inside. His steps are too silent for a mere civilian. 

Bruce and Tim share a look and Tim knows that they are both asking themselves when Dick met the boy and why he never mentioned him with how familiar he acts around him as he easily tucks him into his side. 

Although neither of them wants to accept it, Dick has changed since the one year where he disappeared without a trace. He’d told them that he was shot leading to him to lose his memories and that he only retained his memories a few days before he came back, but Tim always had a feeling the older man was not telling the whole truth, hiding it behind an easy-going smile. He didn’t speak a single word about what happened during that year, claiming he didn’t remember much of it ever since his memories returned.

Not only that, but it had become even rarer than before that any of them would meet Dick at the manor (even Jason was at the Manor more often) — and when he was present he was always studying them with an intense stare as if he was searching for something in their expressions.

“Dick,” Bruce starts but the man waves him off.

“Later,” he says. “I need to see if I have any fresh clothes for Danny.”

Dick pulls the boy away and they head up the stairs. Tim gives it a minute before he follows, nodding at Bruce, who does the same. He hears them stop in the hallway and he pauses in his steps.

“What’s going on?” Tim hears the man's question and he sneaks closer when he can’t hear the boy’s response. He subtly uses his phone’s camera to peek around the corner. 

“What about Mom and Dad?” Dick asks in a hushed whisper and Tim knits his eyebrows together — confused about who his brother is talking about.

Danny winces with a pained expression.

“The GIW got them in custody for affiliating with and aiding an ectoplasmic entity,” he explains. “You are my only chance.”

“Jazz, Sam, Tucker?” Dick almost seems desperate and when the boy just shakes his head after each name, he runs a hand through his hair and curses. 

“And you are sure we can’t go to them?”

Tim can’t help but ask himself who they are talking about that Dick’s voice is so full of disdain. Danny vehemently shakes his head, eyes squeezed together like he is remembering something painful and when he speaks his voice is shaky.

“I don’t know what to do, Ric,” he says, clutching the top of his shirt like his heart is hurting and Tim’s eyebrows climb to the top of his hairline at the unusual nickname. “I can’t- I can’t do this alone…” 

“Fuck.” Dick takes a deep breath as he hugs Danny. “Okay. Yes, of course I’m coming with you, baby ghost. Just let me grab my things and then we’ll go on our way.” 

“You will not go anywhere.” 

Bruce steps in Dick’s path before Tim can stop him and he narrows his eyes at the pair. Danny flinches away from the man and Dick steps protectively in front of the boy.

Tim knows Bruce and Dick had their rough patches in the past but never like this. Never had Dick looked at Bruce like he was a threat. 

“I’m not in the mood, B,” Dick warns sharply. 

“And I’m not about to let you go off with someone that I haven’t vetted.”

Dick lets out a bitter huff of a laugh.

“Of course that’s the only thing you would focus on.” His voice is cold. “You’ll bulldoze your way through, and prod and condemn, not caring if you hurt someone innocent in the process as long as you can justify your actions. I don’t even know why I’m surprised at this point. It’s what happened to Jason after all.”

Bruce reels back like he’s been punched. 

“Now if that is all, I have to go save the people who actually treat me like family.”

This time nobody stops Dick as he leaves the house, Danny in tow. 

“Master Bruce, Master Tim,” Alfred’s voice tears Tim out of his trance and startles Bruce who froze in his spot. “Where is Master Dick?”

Dick trembles with barely suppressed fury as he leads Danny to his car.

He wanted to believe that Bruce was better — that he wouldn’t have led the Justice League on a hunt after a child, but the longer he is back in Gotham as Richard Grayson — the longer he is around who were supposed to be his “actual” family, the more he grows unsure about that fact. There is no easy trust between them — not the steadfast determination that no matter what happens, they’ll take his side. Not like the Fentons have. (It’s been barely 2 months and he misses being Ric Fenton — misses being Jack and Maddie’s son and Jazz and Danny’s older brother.)

Bruce has contingency plans about them for fuck’s sake. And while he understands that there might be situations where they would be on other sides — the time where he and the Teen Titans had to fight their mind controlled mentors comes to mind — it’s a scary thought. For the first time since ages — since Bruce had taken Robin away from him — he feels like he is on his own. 

Back then he had turned to Clark — to Superman. He was the one who gave him the name Nightwing but Dick is plagued by the nightmares he witnessed Danny having. He doesn’t think he can look at his uncle ever the same again. 

At the same time, he doesn’t know if Danny and him can do this alone. He glances at the boy as he drives out the gates to the manor — he looks incredibly drained. He’s even paler than usual and there’s a sheen of sweat over his whole body as he leans back in his seat, breaths shallow. 

As he drives through the streets of the Bowery a sudden thought comes to his mind. He tears the steering wheel around, tearing Danny out of his doze. He blinks at Dick, eyebrows knitted together when he sees that they are still in Gotham.

“Where are we going?” he asks and Dick gives him a smile that is all teeth.

“Just a little pit stop.”

Jason and Dick don’t talk much — or to be more precise they don’t talk about the important stuff. Not about the — ‘I broke down when I heard about your death and I blame myself for not being there’ or ‘I was sure you hated me and you were glad I was gone’. They barge into each other's apartments, spar or get drunk together and cling to each other when they are sure the other isn’t awake to witness it. It’s not quite healthy — but it’s something better than when Jason was still Robin.

So when the door to one of his safe houses gets slammed open, Jason isn’t concerned. He knows Dick had been off the past few weeks and had been expecting his visit for quite a while now. 

The look in Dick’s eyes is different this time around though. It’s not quite the mix of depression coupled with anger he normally expects — it’s something stronger — righteous fury.

“I need your help,” Dick demands before Jason can question what’s going on.

Jason knits his eyebrows together. 

“What about Bruce?”

There’s a dark look in the man’s eyes for a moment before it passes and that’s the moment Jason realizes that this something more serious than the usual spats he normally has with B. 

“You are the only one I can trust with this.”

He spins around on his heels and is out of the safe house before Jason can blink. Getting a bit impatient and angry about Dick not getting straight to the point and still expecting him to follow — Jason storms out. What he doesn’t expect is the passed out half-dead kid in the passenger seat. A tinge of green enters his vision as he glares at Dick.

“What the hell is going on?”

The story Dick tells as they speed on the highway leaves Jason reeling. If the man’s tone wasn’t carefully monotone as he spoke about Ghosts and an entire town being shifted to a different dimension, Jason would have already declared that Dick finally snapped. He wants to question why he lied to the rest about losing his memories about the year he went missing, but the desperate look he sends him and the way his hands shake on the steering wheel hold him back. It’s only the boy’s quiet snores that have Jason’s volume not climbing above a hiss.

“Are you sure this all happened? That this is real?”

“I was there, Jay,” Dick’s tone leaves no arguments. “I almost watched Danny die, again — fighting Pariah Dark. I would have never forgiven myself if another of my brothers…” He gulps and shakes his head. “I was there this time. I should have made a difference and once again I was helpless”. He slams a fist against the radio, cursing when it turns on, blaring loud music. 

He quickly turns the volume down and both of them wait with bated breath as Danny stirs in his seat, before he goes limp again. Dick lets out a deep sigh.

“How do you think I felt once I realized the situation?” Dick questions. “I was in the middle of nowhere with no recollection of who I was. If the Fentons hadn’t found me-” He shakes his head. “Next I know I’m watching a kid fight fucking Ghosts twice his side and getting thrown around like a ragdoll like it’s a normal Tuesday. That shouldn’t happen Jay, it just shouldn’t.”

Jason stays silent.

“And worst of all, I still knew how to fight,” Dick barrels on. “But no matter how much I tried to help Danny and teach him, it was useless because it wasn’t humans or even metas he was up against. How could my moves counter beings that can fly and go intangible and invisible at will?”

Jason still can’t fathom why Dick hid this from them all — but he knows enough to understand why he needs his help. 

“So what’s the plan?”

Dick shoots him a relieved smile.

“We still have 12 hours of driving ahead of us,” Dick glances at Danny. “I’m reckoning he’s gonna be out cold for at least half of it if not more. I need you to switch with me after half of the drive so I can get a power nap in, then I’ll take over again.”

“Not trusting me with the car?” Jason teases.

“Show me your drivers license and maybe I’ll reconsider.”

They start bickering, and for a moment Jason can convince himself that this is a normal road trip.

Jason’s at the wheel when the boy wakes up. Dick is out cold and despite the man’s protests Jason can drive normally if he wants to. There’s no reason the man has to over exhaust himself.

They had tossed their phones once they crossed the border to Illinois and Dick had withdrawn a couple of thousand bucks. Jason had questioned why they hadn’t done sooner if they wanted to keep Bruce off their trail, but the man told him he’s not the one he is worried about. Considering what Dick told him about the elusive GIW, Jason can harbor a guess on who he is talking about. It’s after that, that Jason wrangled him into another nap — Dick was in no condition to drive any further. 

“Ric?” Danny questions sleepily as he sits up and Jason keeps an eye on him out of the corner of his eyes.

“He’s asleep,” Jason answers and it’s only because he’s used to Damian that he blocks the instinctual kick as the boy realizes he’s not alone. 

“I can see that Dick kept you sharp” Jason huffs out a laugh. “I’m Jason, in case he didn’t mention me.”

Danny blinks at him and shifts so he is sitting cross legged. He knits his eyebrows together, clearly thinking.

“You were the pit stop?” he questions.

“Apparently.” Jason shrugs. “Great work, by the way. It’s been a while since I’ve seen Dick this pissed.”

The boy frowns, gnawing at his lips as he stares out the window.

“You’ve died too, haven't you?”

Jason suppresses his initial reaction to snap at the boy. Instead he grits his teeth as he stares straight ahead, the road blurring together. 

“And?”

“Ric shouldn’t have let you come.”

He grips the steering wheel until his knuckles are deadly white, green hazing his vision. 

“They’ll cut you open too.”

It takes the wind out of his anger and he lets out a curse. The brakes screech as he stops at the side of the road, nearly catapulting them forward with the force of it. Jason finally turns to look at Danny properly. The boy peels down his t-shirt to reveal a gnarly, ugly red Y-shaped scar as he gulps.

“Ric doesn’t know,” he says as he releases the hem of his shirt, covering the scar once more. “I haven’t told him.”

“Then why me?” Jason’s voice rises without his consent.

“Because you’ll get it,” the boy murmurs. “How it feels to die.”

The boy leans back, turning away from Jason to look at the corn field.

“How it haunts you.”

Jason wants to puke and he lets his forehead fall onto the steering wheel.

“Fuck,” he says emotionally and the boy laughs — broken and hysterical. Jason doesn’t comment on the tears streaming down Danny’s face.

Jason starts up the car again, leading the car back on the road.

“Next time Dick asks for my help, I’ll send him to hell.”

Jason hides a smile when the boy snorts at that. 

Dick comes to himself as they are about to cross the border into Amity Park. Jason and Danny are quietly talking and he wipes away a little bit of drool as he sits up. It’s dark outside and Danny directs Jason as they enter the city. He leans forward as he enters the conversation.

“You’ll think the GIW’s detectors will sense us?”

Danny glances at Jason, before he turns his attention to Dick.

“We should be fine for a few hours at least as long as I don’t have to turn ghost,” he says. “Half of the town is liminal at this point so you and Jason shouldn’t raise any alarms either. They had too many false alarms in the months since you left.”

Jason looks at Dick strangely once they park where they can hide for the night.

“Since when did you have contact with Lazarus Pits?”

“Never,” Dick retorts. “But living above a portal to the Infinite Realms for a year will do the trick.”

Jason's face scrunches up.

“Who the hell builds a portal in their own basement?” 

Both Dick and Danny snort. 

“Gotta love Mom and Dad,” the boy says as Dick nods in agreement. “Only they are insane enough.”

Dick makes a face.

“I could do without reanimated meatloaf for the rest of my life though.”

“Don’t remind me,” Danny shudders.

Jason stares at them in bafflement. 

“You do know how crazy that sounds?”

“Crazier than Ghosts?” Danny questions with a smirk and Jason pinches the bridge of his nose, shaking his head

“To give it to Mom and Dad they did stop storing samples in the fridge after we lectured them about it,” Dick adds. At Jason's aghast face he just shrugs. “They are passionate about their work.” 

“Insane, absolutely insane,” the man mutters and Dick suppresses a smile.

It had taken him a bit to get used to the Fenton's and their flavor of insanity and chaos. At first he had been worried about them being neglectful at best, but it turns out that they just needed someone to remind them when they got into “hyperfixation” mode. He and Jazz had to stage an intervention and both Maddie and Jack were embarrassed once they realized they took it too far. Dick doesn’t know who is worse — them or Tim when he’s awake for more than three days. 

He was very relieved when his initial hunch didn’t turn out to be true after Danny revealed himself as Phantom to his parents. They did a whole 180 on their research, focusing on learning about the intricacies of the Infinite Realms, their culture and even politics instead — resigning from their high positions in the GIW. That’s when the trouble really started. 

Dick hadn’t lied about getting amnesia after he was shot and it was also true that his memories had only returned — thanks to Frostbite — two months ago. But the only reason he went back to Gotham had been to get Danny help (the longer they waited the worse the situation with the GIW became) — to find out if the Justice League could be trusted. Once he heard what happened with Freakshow and the Reality Gauntlet (and had the memories to properly realize what that meant) he had been horrified. He had given himself a deadline to — if need be, confront the Justice League by the time Danny’s birthday came around and find out the truth. (He had desperately hoped that this was all a misunderstanding, but Bruce’s words still taste bitter on his tongue.)

Dick knows bringing Jason along was a risk — considering Danny’s theory that the Lazarus Pit were corrupted ectoplasm, but they need the manpower to get through the GIW’s defenses. Even if he’s scared shitless about what they’ll do to Jason when they find out just how liminal he is. He knows this is a death mission. But it doesn’t have to be for Jason.

“We need to establish some ground rules,” Dick says reluctantly and Jason narrows his eyes at the wording.

“If we get captured, I want you to save yourself, Jason.” Jason scoffs and Dick raises a hand, silencing his retort before it can come. “I’m the sole reason you got involved in the first place. Me and Danny may be willing to die for them, but I’m not letting you sacrifice yourself for something that isn’t even your problem to deal with.”

“If you think I’m gonna agree to those, you are more than stupid than I thought Dick,” Jason’s voice is scathing. “It started being my problem when you came to me for help and we drove for 12 straight hours to get there. If you say those people are your family — then they are mine as well.”

His lips perk into a smirk.

“Besides, I want to meet the people that might be even more batshit insane than B and got you to call them Mom and Dad.”

Dick flushes slightly — the Fenton’s had always insisted on him calling them Mom and Dad and he doesn’t know when the titles became genuine. Even with his memories restored, Ric Fenton feels more alive  — more loved — than Richard Grayson ever did. 

Danny just shrugs as he leans back, arms crossed behind his neck and feet rested on top of the glove box. 

“I guess I have not only two sisters but two older brothers now,” he adds cheekily. 

“Brat.” 

Jason playfully shoves Danny and Dick gapes at the fond tone in his voice. 

“How?” he stammers — they should barely know each other. “When?”

Jason tucks Danny into his side, angle a bit awkward, but grinning as he ruffles his hair.

“You missed a lot, sleeping beauty,” Jason jests and Dick groans.

“I was only asleep for 1 hour!” he bemoans. 

“Two,” Danny corrects and Dick glares at him, raising a finger.

“Don’t you two dare gang up on me!”

“This is sweet revenge for when you and Jazz teamed up against me,” Danny grins.

“We were literally trying to help you!” Dick complains, shoving Danny’s face away as the boy cackles, Jason watching on with amusement.

Dick might have to leave Ric Fenton behind for good now that his two worlds have collided, but maybe he can still be Richard “Dick” Grayson-Fenton instead.  

[xoxochb]

Words cannot explain how i need you to write jason grace feeding me his cock like.... Yes sir gimme that protein shot my mouth is open lol.

(pls write it queen. gender neutral if possible ?)

thx and may you get dicked down by jason grace

yupyup manifesting it!!!!!

——— ౨ৎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

your poor rosy cheeks, so warm and flushed, reddened like strawberries during the spring.

and your lips, bruised of the same color, wrapped around jason’s cock as you suck him off, a reward well-earned for him after a long day.

his hands remain tangled in your messy locks of hair, tugging them forward in the same way his hips buck into you, pushing his fat cock deeper down your throat.

in the back of your mind, you’re sure that you should relax yourself before you choke on him. yet the front of your brain is telling you to devour him like this is the last time you’ll ever do it.

jason’s pretty blue eyes, veiled by lenses, watch you intently, from the top of your head down to your feet, taking in every inch of you beneath him.

tears pour down your roseate cheeks in copious amounts, to almost a sob you attempt to stifle as much as possible.

but your tears appear to be withholding a mind of their own.

yet, your mouth ignores this and violently, purposefully, near gags yourself on him. and you’d still do it a million times over.

your esophagus works overtime today, downing every last inch of his arousal in plethoras.

you focus on something else before you make yourself vomit.

something serene… like the sky… blue— similar to jason’s eyes. no. grass flowing in the soft wind, delicate beneath your fingertips. and the sound of seagulls and the waves crashing gently at the beach.

nothing bad about the beach, right? the water, the ocean, like the tears falling from your eyes.

it’s inevitable that every thought you conquer will lead you back to your current position.

so for now, you let yourself enjoy it.

[comesatimecomesashadow]

Hey hey! Could i request a shadow x college student who took him in and try’s to encourage him to be more outgoing/friendly with the others? I keep thinking about how cute it would be to sorta babysit the whole bunch for Maddie and Tom, and Shadow get roped into the friendship. He deserves the best support system☹️❤️!!

tonight, tonight *ೃ༄

pairing *ೃ༄ shadow the hedgehog x reader [can be read as platonic or romantic]

fic type *ೃ༄ one-shot, reverse-comfort

cw *ೃ༄ nothing !

summary *ೃ༄ you help shadow come out of his shell.

note *ೃ༄ sorry this took so long anon! i've been busy these past couple weeks.. | I had fun writing this especially after watching sonic 3, he deserves the world !!!

masterlist *ೃ༄

   Being a college student was no easy feat. Assignments and deadlines filled up your time and often left you feeling burnt out, but you always managed to pull through. If there was anything you’d learned from being at school for this long, it was that you couldn’t give up because you’d always make it in the end anyway. It was just the process of getting there that you hated. 

   Shadow was about the only one who could allow you to escape the stressful confines of your dorm. You had met him on one of your nightly walks to de-stress after the hectic events of the day. Hour-long lectures and energy drinks for breakfast weren’t exactly the most desirable position to be in. As you were planning out your week, calculating how much time each assignment needed and what instructions were given, you bumped into an unfamiliar creature : A Hedgehog. 

   It struck you as a peculiar happenstance, given that he was on college grounds. He didn’t seem like he was a student. Of course, you could have just ignored him and went on with your night, but something in you wouldn’t let you. Since that day, the two of you have been inseparable. You weren’t exactly startled by his existence given that before you met him, Tom and Maddie asked you to ‘babysit’ Sonic and the others while they went out. Though your schedule was a bit stressful because of your college work, you always accepted. 

   And now, since Shadow had become part of your life, he sometimes tagged along when you went over to the Wachowski residence. Sonic, Knuckles and Tails behaved fairly well for the most part (you were thankful for that), but there was always one thing that nagged at you : your black and red quilled hedgehog friend who always seemed to be off in his own world despite being in the same room as the others. 

   Shadow had told you about his past after about a year of staying with you, but that didn’t mean you wanted him to feel isolated when everyone else was having fun. You weren’t exactly the best at comfort, but you couldn’t just leave him like that. So you decided to address it before heading over there.

   Shadow was munching on a handful of coffee beans when you entered the kitchen. You were dressed casually and ready to go out. “Shadow,” you spoke as you turned on the stove to boil a bit of water for a cup of coffee. 

   “What is it?” His eyes drifted to you, he was sitting at the small kitchen table. Your apartment wasn’t big but it was something at least. Shadow was grateful. 

   “Do you want a cup of coffee?” You asked while you leaned on the counter, your arms crossed. You weren’t sure how to approach it, you couldn’t exactly just tell him to socialize. In your experience, that never worked on you so it definitely wouldn’t work on him. So how..? 

   “Yes, I’d appreciate that.” Shadow nodded and kept eating away at his coffee beans. You’d gotten used to his short answers but sometimes, they weren’t the best for serious conversations like these. 

   “Are you going to come with me to Maddie’s?” you inquired, your voice a little softer than usual. 

   Shadow nodded, “Yes, I will be accompanying you tonight. Someone has got to keep those dimwits in check.” You chuckled at his insults and a small smile tugged at your lips. The time wasn't right, it felt too abrupt to just bring it up out of nowhere. So you made a note to bring it up later, at the right moment. After a cup of coffee with your hedgehog companion, the two of you were off to the Wachowski household. 

   The afternoon was calm. It was accompanied with the soft caresses of the wind and the warm beams of sunlight. You knocked on the door and waited for an answer, continuing your conversation with Shadow until Maddie answered the door. 

   “You’re right on time, come on in!” Maddie greeted, opening the door to let the two of you in. You thanked her and greeted the ever-energetic hedgehog who whizzed up in front of you in a matter of seconds. 

   “We’ll be back around ten-thirty, alright?” Tom told you. You nodded, “Yep, I promise to keep everyone on their best behavior.” The couple smiled in acknowledgement and told Sonic and the others the usual ‘behave or you’re grounded’ spiel before disappearing into one of Sonic’s rings. 

   “You guys wanna have a movie marathon or board games?” you asked the four of them, Shadow was still at your side with his arms crossed. 

   “How about, Board games first n’ then a movie marathon?” Sonic suggested, his hands on his hips. 

   “That sounds great!” Tails chimed in, “Agreed.” added Knuckles. 

   Sonic went to go get the board games out of the cabinet while everyone else cleared the table, Shadow was quiet as always. “You’re joining right?” 

   “Do you want me to?” Shadow helped you carry some cups to the sink. 

   You nudged him, “I’m asking what you want.” 

   He pondered for a moment. “I am unfamiliar with the games.” He didn’t seem sad about it but a little ..lost? This did not deter you though. 

   “I’ll teach you, I promise it’ll be fun.” you beamed. 

   “.. Are you sure?” Shadow asked, avoiding eye contact. It was a thing he did when he was uncertain of something. But you only nodded and guided his gaze back to you. You knew he was unsure about how the others would react to his participation. 

   “I’m more than sure.” 

   After the table was cleared, there was a mountain of games at the side of the table; Sonic, Tails, Knuckles, Shadow and you sat at the surrounding edges of the table, seated on the couch. “Since Shadow’s joining this time,” You began as you reached for the deck of cards on the table. “I was thinking we could play uno first, how's that?” 

   “Shadow’s joining?” Sonic asked with a surprised look on his face, “This’ll be fun.” Shadow only huffed and crossed his arms. Shadow only acted as if the blue hedgehogs remarks meant nothing because on the inside, he was grateful that they weren’t opposed to having him in the game.

   “I look forward to winning against all of you,” said Knuckles while donning a determined expression.

   “That’s ambitious.” said Shadow, “Dream on!” chimed Tails. Everyone seemed pumped and the environment felt warm. You were glad to see Shadow stepping out of his comfort zone. You split the cards while you explained the rules of the game to Shadow as well as the purpose of the different cards. Shadow listened intently and admired your expertise at card-shuffling. 

   “Alright, everyone count if you’ve got seven cards.” you said as you looked through your cards. 

   “Are we betting anything?” Sonic asked playfully. 

   “No, we are not betting anything, this is a game not gambling.” You rolled your eyes, “Plus, I'm a broke college student — the most I can give is like ten bucks.” Sonic and the others laughed at your half-joke. You reached for the deck and turned a card over, a six and the color blue present on the card. 

   After a long round of rock, paper, scissors, it was decided that Tails would start first and it would go clockwise. The game, despite being a practice round, went on for quite a long time — Though that was to be expected, given that it was the five of you who were playing. Tails ended up winning and the night went on smoothly. 

   Shadow was quite competitive and he ended up winning the two rounds afterwards, much to Sonic’s dismay. You were happy to see this side of Shadow, he seldom went out of his way to interact with others. It was your influence on him and your encouraging nature that allowed him to step out of his comfort. 

   It was about eight in the evening when Shadow was helping you make snacks for the movie marathon. Sonic, Tails and Knuckles were bickering over which movie to watch but you didn’t pay much mind to it. “You were great at Uno, I was surprised. It was your first time right?” You mashed the avocados with the mortar and pestle; Everyone had agreed on guacamole as the snack of the night. 

   Shadow nodded in response to your question, “I’m a quick learner, the game was relatively simple.” 

   Shadow added the minced tomatoes into the avocado mix. “I’m proud of you, y’know.” you spoke quietly but your words were warm. It was an exchange just between the two of you. Shadow began chopping up the cilantro as you spoke. “I know it isn’t easy, but I’m proud of you.” 

   His chopping slowed, “.. I’m not a social being, But..” He inhaled slowly before sighing. “Your efforts in encouraging me to engage with others were helpful.” You smiled at his words and listened earnestly, mixing in the ingredients he poured. “Playing board games with everyone today.. It reminded me of Maria.” 

   Your smile was one of understanding as you gazed down at the black hedgehog. He was reserved most of the time, but today he did something he wasn’t usually comfortable with. Your warm nature helped him creep out of his shell and enjoy himself. It helped him remember the lost moments with the person he held dearest to his heart. 

   “I remembered the joy I felt with her.. It was so easy then.” He spoke, a sorrowful smile on his lips. 

   “It might not be easy now, but it isn’t unreachable. Okay?” You washed your hands and dried them before bending down to give him a hug. He let go of the knife and accepted your warm hug. He closed his eyes before enclosing his own arms around you. Even though both of your lives were stressful, he had you and you had him. 

   No matter what, the two of you helped each other up when the other was down. The support you’d given him these past two years — he’d remember it and cherish it. 

   He decided then that he would do the same for you too.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love That Burns ~ Ending 2 ~ 61

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,490ish

Summary: Laura seems to be moving on with her life and you aren't taking it well.

Notes: Please share reactions! 

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

Wade sat in the library in the TVA where all the files where kept. B-15 walked over and dropped all the files on you and your variants on the table.

“You know, for an all powerful agency, you sure are behind the times,” Wade commented, eyeing the paper files. “Maybe I can do you a solid and also digitize these?”

“We’re not looking for that, Mr. Wilson,” B-15 responded. “These files are not to leave this library and, trust me, we will know if they do.”

“Don’t worry, if these files don’t have anything useful, I won’t be taking anything from them.”

B-15 sighed. “Good luck, Wade. I hope you find something that could help Y/N. She deserves an easier life.”

Wade nodded as B-15 left and he focused in on the files. “Okay, let’s see what we can find to save my Buttercup.”

~~~

You didn’t believe Logan when he told you that Wade was off on some mission the X-Men recruited him to be on. He had clearly forgotten that a younger version of you was with the X-Men right now. But you didn’t question it. Though you were beginning to worry as it had now been weeks since you’d last seen him and your life was much quieter currently.

“Mom! Mom! Mom!” Laura called, bounding out of her room and down the hall.

“What’s going on, kiddo?” You asked as you wiped your hands off on your apron. 

“I got in!”

“What?” You felt like your heart stopped.

“I got into Columbia!”

“Oh my gosh, Laura!” You quickly brought her into a crushing hug as a few tears slipped down your cheeks. “I’m so proud of you, sweetie. So proud.”

She pulled away slightly. “Mom, please don’t cry.”

“Can’t help it. I’m just so proud that you’re my daughter. When do you start?”

“Actually, there’s a few half semester classes I’m interested in and I already contacted my counselor and they said I could start next week.”

“Next week?” That had you wanting to cry harder, but you held back.

“Yeah! Oh, and I got a job on campus that will allow me to put money towards tuition and give me a little scholarship.”

Your world was spinning faster now. “And when do you start that?”

“I’m actually going to get ready and head there.”

“Laura… how long have you known about all this? There’s no way this all happened today.”

Laura sighed. “I’m sorry, mom. I guessed that you might have a hard time so I made sure I had everything in order before telling you.”

It made you ache to hear that she was worried about you, especially knowing that she was right. “No matter what, I’m still proud of you, but next time please just tell me.”

“Okay, mom. Sorry.”

You pressed out a smile. “It’s okay. Go get ready.”

~~~

You could feel your powers tingling beneath your skin as you paced the living room. You were anxious with the fact that Laura didn’t feel like she could tell you everything and the fact that she was growing up and moving on. Laura has been your whole world for years now and now she was growing up to take care of herself. What would you do now?

“Hey, doll,” Logan greeted. He had gotten off of work, cleaned up, and was coming over to see if he could help you with dinner. “What— Y/N? Is everything okay?”

“No,” a sob tore through your throat causing Logan to quickly move in front of you.

“What’s going on?”

“My daughter’s growing up and I don’t know what to do.”

“Where is she?”

“Working. Just got a job without telling me. Got accepted to college without telling me. All because she was worried about how I’ll react and now I’m over here proving her right!” Flames shot up your arms.

“Woah!” Logan threw his hands up. “Okay, breathe, darlin’.”

“I can’t,” you gasped, lungs feeling like they were on fire.

Logan’s hands grasped your arms, ignoring the flames as they burned him. “Yes, you can. Follow me.”

“She’s— she’s growing up— she’s been— my whole world— what do I do now?”

“Oh, doll. You’re still her mom. Always will be. And you’ve done a fantastic job in raising her. But it’s time to start focusing on yourself.”

You shook your head. “I don’t want to be alone… I wasn’t supposed to be alone.””

“You’re not alone, you have me. Always. But I need you to try to calm down. You’re hurtin’ yourself and I can’t handle that.”

“I’m sorry. I’m trying.”

“I know, I know. How can I make it better?”

“Just… don’t… leave…”

Logan shook his head. “Never, darlin’. You’re stuck with me. Follow me. Deep breath in, deep breath out.”

Logan and you began to take deep breaths together. Yours were shaky and broken by the sobs than had now become hiccups. Logan kept his eyes locked on your eyes, wanting you to understand that he wasn’t going anywhere. As your breathing calmed, so did your flames, revealing that both of your arms were burnt. The pain hit as soon as the final flame was extinguished. Your knees buckled but Logan quickly caught you.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered as he picked you up. “I’ve got you.”

Logan carried you to the bathroom and set you on the counter. He quickly grabbed the burn cream and wraps. You cried softly as he worked carefully to take care of your injuries. Whenever a whine or whimper would slip past your lips, Logan would pause.

“You’re doing so good, darlin’,” he would say softly. “You’re so strong. I’m so proud of you.”

You tried to take his words to heart as he continued to take care of your burns. But the insecurities still slipped in. “I hate this…” you murmured. “I hate that my emotions control my powers… that my healing is too slow… I hate being weak.”

“You are not weak.” Logan couldn’t stand it when you talked badly about yourself, ever, but especially now with his emotions rapidly growing for you.

You scoffed. “Right now, I feel pretty weak.”

Logan finished up getting the wrap fastened before gently taking your chin and forcing you to look at him. “You’re not weak. You do not get to speak badly about yourself anymore, got it? Especially when it’s lies comin’ out of your mouth.” The seriousness that was shining through Logan’s eyes, had your heart stopping for a moment. “No more lies about yourself.”

All you could muster up was a swallow and a nod. Logan’s hand moved from your chin to cup your cheek. His thumb lightly brushed against your skin. 

“Do you need any meds?” He whispered, doing his best to keep you tethered to the moment because he could see that your energy was fading.

“Yes,” you breathed out.

“Alright. I’m going to get you into bed and then I’ll bring you some meds.”

“I don’t want to go to bed. I’ll stick to the couch, just… no bed, please.”

“Okay, doll. Whatever you want.”

Logan carefully carried you out to the couch and handed you a blanket before rushing to get some water and medicine for you. You quickly took them when he came back.

“Stay with me,” you requested. “We can turn on a show or something… I just don’t want to be alone.” 

“Of course,” Logan replied, grabbing the remote and sitting next to you. “Here.” He offered you the remote.

You shook your head. “Just put on something, I don’t care.”

“What’s your favorite show?” You told him what it was and where to find it. Logan turned on the first episode and glanced over at you. He noticed that you hadn’t placed the blanket over you yet. “Do you, uh, not want the blanket? I just assumed since—“

“No, no, I do. My hands are just hurting.”

He reached over and laid out the blanket over you. “All you need to do is ask and I will help you.”

“I know… thank you.”

He’s lips lifted up in a slight smile. “Anytime… I, uh… Do you, um… Well…”

“Lo,” you lightly laughed. “Just spit it out.”

You had been calling him ‘Lo’ a lot more lately. He didn’t think he liked nicknames until you started using them. Now, it made his heart soar to hear you call him that.

“Dinner,” he finally said. “Do you want me to make dinner?”

“We can just order in,” you stated. 

“I don’t mind. Besides, Laura should be home soon and she’ll need food.”

“I can help—“

“No,” Logan stood up. He gently grabbed your shoulders and maneuvered you to lay down on the couch. “Rest. I can handle a little cooking. And let me know if you need anything, doll.”

The tv show quickly went ignored as you watched Logan work in your kitchen. He cooked with such an awkward ease, if that was even something one could do. You couldn’t help but think how handsome he looked as he worked. The thought quickly took you by surprise and you shook it off. It was only because he looked like your husband… right?

Logan’s hands were trembling slightly as he felt your eyes on him. He had been hoping that you’d rest and let him embarrass himself in the kitchen in peace. Seemed like that wasn’t going to happen though. Logan tried to ignore your gaze and seem confident as he continued to work. 

Minutes passed and eventually you fell asleep due to the exhaustion of your flames and your body taking forever to heal. Logan kept working, knowing that your body needed fuel to help continue healing though he knew that it would take a week or two for your burns to disappear and leave scars behind. He turned away from the stove for a brief moment, only for the food in the pan to quickly catch on fire.

“Fuck!” He exclaimed.

You woke up as Logan tried to put out the flames, yet failed. The flames seemed to only grow bigger when his attempts. As quick as you could, you got off the couch and headed for the kitchen.

“Mom?” Laura called as she entered the apartment, immediately on alert at the smell of smoke. “Mom!”

You waved your hand, extinguishing the flames. You gasped as the amount of energy that took from you. Your knees buckled causing Laura to leap over to you and hold you up.

“Mom!” She exclaimed, taking in your full appearance. 

“Y/N!” Logan fretted as he saw how weak you had quickly gotten.

“What the hell did you do?” Laura glared at Logan.

“I—I—I was just cooking dinner and the pan caught on fire.”

“That doesn’t explain why she has bandages up her arms!”

“I’m… I’m… fine…” you tried to tell her, panting through every word. 

Your knees buckled again and Logan’s arms hurried out to help you but Laura pulled you away.

“Get out,” she ordered.

“Laura,” you rasped.

“Get out!” She repeated, yelling at the man in front of her.

“It was an accident, Laura,” Logan tried to explain. “I was just trying to—“

“I don’t fucking care! Leave! Get out!”

You could see that Logan felt guilty when his gaze met yours. You wanted to reach out and comfort him and to tell Laura that nothing was his fault, but you didn’t have the energy.

“Come on, mom,” Laura said as lifted you up and carried you down the hall to your room.

Logan watched with sad eyes until you both disappear into your room. Then he got to cleaning up the mess that he had made in your kitchen. Laura tucked you into bed, making sure that you were all settled before closing the door and going back out to the living area.

“I told you to get out,” Laura fumed.

“I’m just cleaning up the kitchen,” Logan mumbled. “Then I’ll go.”

“You’ve done enough for today. I told you not to hurt her, that includes her powers.”

“I know.” 

Logan wasn’t going to argue with Laura on this. He knew that he had caused the drain in your energy with the kitchen fire. He also knew that Laura was mostly talking about the bandages on your arms and he wasn’t going to tell her that she was the main cause of those. She didn’t need that guilt on her. He would take that for her.

“Just get out, Logan,” Laura stated again. “I can handle it.”

Logan sighed, knowing it wasn’t worth fighting her on this. He glanced down the hall, staring at the door he knew you were behind. “Please let me know if either of you need anything.”

“We won’t.”

Logan left the apartment and Laura quickly locked the door behind him.

~~~

Laura stayed at your side all night after the kitchen was cleaned. When you finally woke, she was right there with water and medicine.

“Here,” Laura offered to you. “Take it.” You didn’t argue, letting her help you sit up and take the meds. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine, Laura,” you replied. “I am worried about Logan though. Where is he?”

“I kicked him out.”

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Yes, I should have. Just look at your arms, mom!”

“He didn’t cause what happened to my arms. It was me… I was upset and lost control. He found me like that and helped me through it.”

“Upset? What were you upset about?”

“That you’re growing up.”

Laura’s heart dropped. “Mom, I—“

“It’s fine, kiddo. None of it’s your fault. It’s just me realizing that my daughter is no longer my little girl and I have to let you go be the wonderful woman that I know you are.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s really not your fault.”

“I was so mean to Logan. I kicked him out.”

“It’s okay. It was all a misunderstanding. He’ll be okay.”

Laura nodded, taking a moment to think. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Anything, kiddo.”

“Do you… uh… what… well, I guess, just… do you have feelings for Logan?”

That question caught you completely off guard. “I— I— like as a friend?”

“Yes and… do you like him more than that?”

“I… I don’t know…”

Laura nodded. “I’m just asking because I want you to be happy, mom, and it seems like he makes you happy.”

She wasn’t wrong. Your happiest moments since returning to 2024 had been with this new Logan. But that didn’t been you had feelings for him, right?

“He has been making me happy, yes… and he’s taking good care of me.”

“You don’t need to admit anything to me, especially right now, but just think about it. Take notice of it. Logan seems to care about you a lot and willing to do anything for you—for us.”

You nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind… Love you, kiddo.”

“Love you, mom.”

next chapter >

[yallthemwitches]

Chapter 5: Fifth Year

“What are you doing,” Lily sputters. Something about being out here with him feels raw , like they’ve entered some sort of in-between realm. His lip twitches and he tilts his face to follow the moon. “Working.”  “Oh yeah? On what?”  “On leaving you alone.”

Read on AO3 or under the cut!

In something that resembles irony, James and Severus’ apologies are practically interchangeable. 

I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know. I would never. You must understand…

Like opposite sides of the same coin, they are relentless and just as equally, she refuses to forgive them. They move on eventually, but at night she replays the events by the lake in her head on an endless loop, sometimes exchanging their roles like actors in a play: James now being hoisted into the air, Severus asking her out, James’ mouth foaming with bubbles, Severus’ sneers of delight…

Even in her dreams James never says the word, but Severus does. Over and over and over.

A new normal begins to set and the moments she would have normally spent with Severus are left cold and vacant. She starts to drink at the quidditch parties—not getting pissed, but enough to where the world looks like a numb, warm interpretation of itself. She also starts to entertain boys’ advances, their faces like black clouds rolling in and out of her life, lingering long enough to ease the solitude but not enough to make it any less hollow.

Even with a bloke’s mouth hungry and hard and real on hers, it pales to the way boggart James had kissed her likeness.

“Did you like it? The idea of me snogging you?”   

She hates that the answer is yes. 

“You're being self destructive—it’s not cute,” Marlene says one night. She leans her hands on the armrests of the sofa and looms close to Lily’s face, demanding an explanation.

“I think that’s a matter of opinion.” 

“Lily. You got detention—I didn’t even know that was possible for prefects.”

Here it comes: the shame. It creeps around her, cutting at her skin while the dull chanting which has taken up permanent residence in her thoughts now pushes to the forefront. 

Mudblood Mudblood Mudblood Mudblood

Thankfully, the fire in the common room pops like a warning shot and snaps her back.

“Don’t be dramatic–Remus gets them all the time.”

Lily might as well have become poisonous by the way Marlene rears back. Eyeing her with incredulity.

“Do you even hear yourself? Who are you?”  

It’s a good question. Probably the biggest wanker of all. 

When she does get to sleep, her dreams creep in like a noxious gas, suffocating her until she gasps awake. They always start simple: flashes by the lake, blood flowing from James’ cheek, the word mudblood pulsing through the ground like a tremor. Then, things get weird: James’ blood becomes a wet, pasty brown; a plastic medical tube rises from Snape’s mouth. Each dream ends when her wand arm is replaced with a sickly, pock-marked one which James eyes with a sadness she knows too well.

“Have you tried muggle psychology?” Pandora hums while subbing for Remus on their patrols. If she questions his absences as much as she does, they never address it.

“Muggles are quite brilliant, actually. Xeny is adamant that their dream interpretation is just as good as any seer’s—”

The ever present chant of mudblood softens to let her sister’s voice enter. “You’re both just freaks who deserve to rot in a mental hospital,” she had said while her and Severus bent over a potions book at the kitchen table. She wonders if St. Mungos also has padded rooms where nutters bang at the walls. 

“You should try talking to them,” Pandora sighs.

“Who?”

“The dreams—they might talk back.”

But talking to dream James sounds just as horrifying as speaking to the real one. Once he stopped trying to apologize he kept his distance, only interacting with her when it was absolutely necessary. Sometimes she would catch his eyes on her before flitting off in some other direction. She hated that too— how her loneliness made her want his gaze to linger just a bit longer.

“Alright Evans?”

Unlike the various other times she has found him out after curfew over the year, he doesn’t even attempt to hide, calling out to her when she steps into the dark corridor. Something silken shimmers from his back pocket, then disappears.

“Y’know, I thought you were smarter than showing yourself to a prefect after hours.” 

His lips twitch, but a smile doesn’t appear.

“So you still think I’m smart, then.”

Her blood pressure rises so fast she becomes dizzy but she can’t make the same mistake of letting her anger surge again.

“Detention, Potter. Next week.”

She wishes he would whine like a child, maybe get on his knees and beg for forgiveness— something so she can know that he feels the pain that has taken up every square meter of her soul. Instead, he just turns, heading back into the darkness.

“As you wish, Evans.”

* * * *

That night she doesn’t dream of the lake incident at all, but of an ornate oak bed surrounded by a vast forest. James sits at the foot, smiling at her with the same broad, cracking grin she’s known since first year. His arms are outstretched and open for her and without hesitation she goes.

The trees sway overhead, casting trickles of light onto the bed spread. He takes her head in both hands and starts to kiss her, every press of his lips slipping her farther and farther away from the scene until, just like with the boggart, she is a spectator again to her own pleasure.

Now, dream Lily’s hands sweep into his hair, grabbing at the roots and tugging until something sprouts from the top of his head. They shoot through his thick curls like sturdy trunks: antlers. As they grow and twist, her hands latch onto them and bring him back for another kiss—then another and another until he pulls back and looks straight into real Lily’s eyes, irises a brilliant shining gold. 

Suddenly, it’s her in his arms again and she can feel the heat of his skin, the press of his lips, the tug of his fingers. The racks curl around her body like a protective cage and he holds her so close his breath rolls onto her cheek. She doesn’t even need to ask, he speaks on his own:

“Don’t worry, I’m still waiting.”

* * * *

She imagined detention being bad, but not torture.

“...Evans?”

Fucking hell. 

The color drains out of her face and the unmistakable clench of devil’s snare shoots up to curl around her heart. James stands in front of her at the treeline of the Forbidden Forest, a giant metal bucket swinging idly in his hand. 

“Hagrid got called away but he says we need to collect Flobberworms for the potion’s classroom reserve.”

She waits for his signature lazy half grin or at the very least an amused glint in his eye but neither come. Instead, he just blinks at her with disinterest, the bucket clanking on his thigh.

“Right. Well, let's get this over with then.”

She can’t help but feel hurt by his tone—like the idea of standing in a dangerous forest at night–with her– couldn’t be any more boring. Turning on his heel, he bounds into the thicket of trees and quickly becomes indistinguishable, the faint outline of his body growing smaller by the second.

“Potter—wait.”

She runs after him, her own bucket clanking at her side. James doesn’t stop, one hand shoved deep in his pocket while the other swings his pail like a child from a fairy tale. It would be almost cute if the circumstances weren’t so mortifying on multiple levels. 

“Potter! Jesus Christ— slow down!”

He doesn’t. Surely he hasn’t had enough detentions to know the forest this well. He twists his way through the brush, knowing where every thorn bush or poisonous vine lies waiting in their path. He’s light and quick on his feet too, able to find careful footing even in the most treacherous terrain. If she didn’t know any better, she would call it instinctual.

“They must be out there with him somehow,” Severus had said during one of the many conspiracy tirades about Remus over the years. “They are up to something—probably think they are so smart too, but I’m gonna sort it out.”

“James—for Merlin’s sake…”

He stops abruptly and his body stiffens. She stops too, eyes darting around the thick expanse of the wood. 

“What is it? Did you see somethi—?”

“You called me James,” he interrupts, voice sharp.

It's the first time he has looked at her all evening and she is thankful for the darkness. Her cheeks are on fire.

“What?”

“You called me James—just now. You never do that.”

Some moonlight breaches the edge of a cloud and the light trickles through the treeline to dance against their silhouettes, littering patterns on the forest floor.

Wait, where have I seen this?

“Well, you weren’t slowing down,” she says, dismissive. The weight of his stare pierces her and she shifts uncomfortably. His glasses refract the moonlight like beams. 

“Right.”

When he begins moving again, his steps are noticeably slower. They make it to a clearing that is cut by a small creek and the trees thin out enough to see the Scottish mountains looming in the distance. The speckled lights from Hogsmeade twinkle like fallen, collected stars.

With a groan, James throws his pail down and lays next to the creek, propping himself on his elbows. He tilts his head up to the sky and closes his eyes, letting the moonlight wash over him. It’s the calmest he’s ever been around her. 

“What are you doing,” Lily sputters. Something about being out here with him feels raw , like they’ve entered some sort of in-between realm. His lip twitches and he tilts his face to follow the moon.

“Working.” 

“Oh yeah? On what?” 

“On leaving you alone.”

It shoots a zap through her spine, cold and dark through her bones.

“Well, we are supposed to be collecting flobberworms,” she bites, “We’re serving detention, remember?”

His jaw twitches. “Don’t worry we will—but the night is young, Evans. Might as well enjoy it.” 

A long silence falls. She shifts her weight, turning her head every so often in the direction of a rustle in the distance. It’s the longest she has ever seen James go without making a sound—the quiet somehow more irritating than the endless nonsense he is prone to spewing on a daily basis. For once—maybe ever—she wishes he would say something. 

“So–what did you do?”

Perhaps he’s a mind reader.

“I thought you were leaving me alone,” she spits. She crosses her arms over her chest and her bucket thunks against her stomach. It gets a smile out of him—a measly curve of the lip. 

“I said I was working on it—c’mon Evans. It’s a beautiful night and we have hours to kill. Regale me with your tales of debauchery.”

She takes a long heaving sigh. It would be shocking that he hadn’t already heard what happened from the insatiable cycle of Hogwarts gossip but that’s not the point.

He wants to hear it from you.

“I hexed someone.”

His lips twitch, a grin threatening to make an appearance.

“Lucky bloke—how’d he get such an honor?”

“ She— Narcissa Black if we are going to be specific.”

It makes James bolt upward, a hand taking a sharp pass through his hair. Maybe he didn’t know.

“No shit,” he whistles. His unbridled appreciation makes her flush, “If you weren’t my dream girl before— wow.” 

It comes out before he even realizes it. She can feel her face burning again and the devil’s snare on her heart gives a violent squeeze. 

Embarrassed, he turns away and clears his throat, absently brushing the bottom of his trousers.

“I mean–what did she do?”

Again, the dull chanting rises. Mudblood mudblood mudblood mudblood mudblood.

“Nothing my ex-best friend hasn’t already done.”

All the joy that had lifted onto James’ face sinks in an instant. 

“Well—you’d think they’d learn to be more creative at this rate, eh.”

They sit in silence again and she’s sure he can feel it too—the topic neither of them want to broach looming like a hippogriff. The thought of rehashing it again and with him brings bile to her throat. Some Gryffindor you are.

“And you? Blow up any good toilets?” She deflects. 

James turns to her, confused. “Me? Evans, you gave this detention.”

Goddammit, I did. 

He stands and the way the moonlight twists around the lines in his features creates a whole other type of twisting inside her stomach. 

“As much as I hate to say it, I think it’s time to do our penance Miss Evans.”

For the first time that night, his tone is lighter, almost normal. He picks up his bucket and gives it a hearty clank against hers, causing some birds to startle. Humming under his breath, he lopes his way to the other side of the clearing, crossing the rushing creek with ease. 

“There’s loads of the buggers over this way. I think someone tried to plant a sort of garden back here at some point with no luck—sorry bastards.”

She catches up, trying to follow the pattern his feet took to cross the jagged rocks of the creek. 

“And how do you know all this? Do you come out here a lot?” 

He doesn’t turn around, but his shoulders stiffen. “Nah...just some stuff I’ve picked up—ah, here we go!”

He leads them into another small clearing where curling leaves litter the ground in small round clumps. What is left of the cabbage patch is infested with flobberworms—dozens writhing on every leaf to chew tiny holes into the lettuce. James gets to work, carefully ripping off pieces of leaves and shaking the insects into his bucket. They drop making a soft, satisfying thump as they start filling up. 

While he works, she can’t help but watch him—the moonlight flowing through the strands of untidy hair until they form a glowing disc that reminds her of a renaissance painting. It feels impossible to meld the image in front of her with the boy who has tormented her for years. His head whips up and the gold in his eyes flickers in her direction— another flash of deja vu. 

“Now don’t tell me you are going to make me do all the work—not that I don’t deserve it,” James calls. 

Heaving a sigh, she goes to the other side of the row and begins shaking flobberworms into her bucket, trying to control the urge to watch him again.

“This must be the dream for you Evans.”

She looks up to catch his gaze. This time he’d been watching her. 

“Why do you say that?”

“Don’t you remember? I found you absolutely covered in these things’ guts back in third.”

Of course she remembers. It was maybe one of the most embarrassing moments of her life. 

“Those were slug bits—and it wasn’t intentional. I was….”

Pathetic. An idiot. Absolutely obsessed with you. 

“ —upset.”

Just like that everything shifts again—all the bad blood between them that has been culminating since third year pouring out onto the cold earth.

His eyes drag across her face, an intensity darkening his irises.

“What do you want from me, Evans?” 

Nothing. Everything.

“Potter...” she begins, but he cuts her off, voice sharp.

“No–I’m serious. Tell me what to do and I’ll do it. I’ve tried apologising and you won’t listen—hell, I’ve tried spilling my heart to you and you won’t listen either. I’m not expecting you to be all chummy with me, but I need something.”

She rears back, fingers trembling against the handle of her bucket. Spilled his heart? When?

He must be mistaken. All of the times they have ever talked he has only been arrogant and entitled. Sure, he had asked her out (twice!) but neither instances could have been serious…could they? 

No, both times he was just caught up. Once with the rumor, then with the boggart. He doesn’t actually care about you. 

But he is still waiting—and, by the looks of it, is willing to wait forever.

"Eat one.”

She points down at the writhing expanse of flobberworms in the garden, trying to keep her voice steady. And you thought he was immature.

He rears back, from shock or disgust or amusement, she can’t really tell. 

“Excuse me?”

“Go on, eat a flobberworm. Then I’ll accept your stupid apology.”

He looks down into the bucket where at least a hundred writhe on top of each other like a mass of black muck. When he looks back up, his eyes glitter in amusement.

She hates how it still makes her heart swoop.

“But—these are living creatures, Evans,” he whines, “Fruit of the earth! My dad’s potions business would be nothing without these little dudes—I’m practically obligated to show them respect.” 

She’s smiling too, she can’t help it—it's just so dumb but so perfect. If he wants to act like a child all the time, then let punishment fit the crime. 

“Don’t care. Eat the flobberworm Potter or I’ll die angry with you.”

A real smile now, a dastardly, confident one. 

“Well, when you put it like that.”

He reaches into the bucket and pulls one out, the slime of its two mouths leaving a line of mucus trailing out of the pail. He shoots her a challenging smirk and tilts his head back, opening his mouth wide while the worm dangles dramatically high in the air. 

Her heart speeds up—not from the dare, but how impossibly good he looks despite it all. The arch of his eyebrow, the glint in his eye, the moonlight in his hair…everything together along with that disgusting flobberworm makes it a confusing image she simply isn’t ready to unpack. 

His hand twitches to let it drop and Lily lurches forward, making a sound that is neither shriek nor laugh. Satisfaction surges across his face.

“No, Christ Potter. Don’t do it, I take it back.”

He brings his hand down with a laugh—a bright, beautiful one that rips right through time and brings her back to every moment she’s ever heard it. 

Giving her a triumphant grin, he leans in towards his palm and coos to the worm.

“Well little guy, we are both very lucky Evans is forgiving.”

A laugh bubbles up and she lets herself go, clenching her stomach for air. It feels freeing—something she was certain she wasn’t going to feel until she got back home in the summer, maybe not even then. She can feel James staring and looks up to find his gaze soft and glassy. 

“You were really going to do that to stop me being upset with you,”she says, laughter still tingling in her voice.

“Er, yes?” Even in the moonlight, his blush is unmistakable.

“It means that much to you?”

What she really means goes unsaid: Do I mean that much to you?

“I told you I would do anything,” he says simply, dropping the worm back into the bucket. He is all smiles again, his eyes eager and full. 

But he doesn’t care about you, remember?

“So, are we good?”

Are they?

But he doesn’t wait for a response, taking a step towards her until he is in arm's length. It’s the closest he’s been since the lake—since maybe the day in third where he rounded her up against the wall. Even after all these years, the flutter of wings awaken in her stomach.

“Well, if we are, I want to propose something to you, but I need you to give me the floor—and before you say I talk too much already, I’ll try to keep it short and to the point.”

All she can do is blink at him, his closeness mixed with the words coming out of his mouth making her brain feel like jelly. 

“I want us to start over—you know–a blank slate.”

“Blank…slate?”

“Yeah, Blank slate. Tabula Rasa, new beginnings, a fresh start—whatever you want to call it, Evans. I want that. ”

She tries to hold back a blush, but it’s impossible. She should tell him to bugger off—to take his smile and eagerness and especially the moonlight in his hair somewhere far away from her. 

But she won’t.

“I never pegged you as a French philosophy sort of bloke,” is all she says, the attempt at humor betrayed by a tremble in her voice. 

“What can I say, I’m full of surprises.”

Something shifts between them and the air suddenly becomes warm, the wind even blowing humid against her face. How much closer would they need to be to embrace like the boggart version of themselves? Centimeters? 

“And what does this blank slate entail then, hm?”

Instead of responding, he moves abruptly and she has to steady herself not to stumble forward, unaware she had begun leaning towards him. He walks a few meters away and taking a big breath, he turns back to face her. His smile is as bright as any star. 

“Hello there. I’m James Fleamont Potter.”

He approaches her, arm outstretched for a handshake. Her heart thuds against her ribcage and she eyes his hand warily, arching an eyebrow. 

“Fleamont?”

Impossibly, he smiles wider. “We’ve just met and you are insulting my middle name? If you weren’t so beautiful and charming I would be offended.”

“Potter.” 

He just laughs and gives his outstretched hand a little shake, urging her to grasp it. 

“C’mon Evans, humor me."

She should hate him for it—how bloody chuffed he is to play this charade. Hesitant, she grasps his hand and his fingers curl around hers like a protective cage. 

Like a vision, dream James’ voice rings sharp into her memory.

Don’t worry, I’m still waiting.

“I’m Lily Marie Evans.”

His eyes blaze, gold and green twisting even in the darkness.

“A pleasure meeting you here amongst the flobberworms.”

After they shake, she feels James hesitation. His eyes glued to their hands. 

“There—blank slate."

But it's not is it? It's a truce.

The beating of wings start to take up her insides. Dropping her hand, he starts to busy himself with his bucket, taking one last batch of flobberworms from a lettuce leaf and shaking them into the pail. When he comes back to her, she can tell he has been blushing. 

“We should get back—Hagrid probably thinks we got mauled out here.”

Again, he is so close—closer, she realizes, than she has ever wanted any of those blokes she wasted her time with to be to her. His eyes keep flickering down to her hand then back up to her face and a small part of her thinks they are thinking the same thing. 

“Hey James—”

At the sound of his first name, he flushes. A grin spreading so quick it's infectious. It’s a white flag. An acceptance of friendship.

“Yeah Lily?” 

“It’s a beautiful night, can we just sit here for a while longer?”

Not a grin, but something bigger. Something so joyful, she’s sure he is the only one capable of it.

“That’s very forward for you to ask seeing we just met,” he teases, slamming his bucket down on the forest floor.

“But I guess I’ll permit it—since you asked nicely.

[pepis-benis]

felt like posting a lil bit more

“Mom, what are you doing?” he asked, leaning against the counter next to her as she drew. This was a sketch of Henry from the day before, hatted and scarfed with his head tilted back in laughter. She had taken a picture of him, but she found that she was actually pretty good at drawing, apparently a skill she had just never had the time or circumstances to grow. She finished the wisp of Henry’s hair curling from under his hat before setting down the charcoal and turning to her son.

“What does it look like I’m doing, Mr. Genius?” she poked at him, resting her elbow on the kitchen island and setting her chin in her hand to look at him. At some point in the last several months, Henry had gotten grown. He didn’t look like a little kid anymore, baby fat beginning to recede as he shot up several inches. He was almost as tall as Emma, his head no longer a chin rest for her as they stood in lines. His voice cracked on occasion, and the starts of puberty were clear on his face, tiny outbreaks of blemishes reminding Emma that she needed to pick up facial cleanser for him to start using.

The ache in her chest hit full force as he looked at her, the head tilt and eyebrow raise combo not affecting her in the usual way. The balm was there, and it soothed the feeling momentarily, but it quickly gave way to something else, something she couldn’t quite name. It hurt worse. She turned her head back to the counter. “I think I’m getting pretty good.”

“When was the last time you went out?” Henry asked, unimpressed and ignoring her last statement. Emma sighed, rolling her eyes as she looked back at him. This was a recurring conversation, starting a few months after they had settled into their new life.

“Hen, I really don’t need to go out, you know. If I went out, I’d miss out on you. It won’t be long before you’re too cool for your old mom,” Emma said, reaching her non-charcoal covered hand out to brush hair from his eyes. “You need a haircut.”

He batted her hand away. “I don’t need a haircut; you need to stop changing the subject.” He took a step away from her, hand on his hip. The stance hit the pain just right, strengthening the name escaping feeling. Emma couldn’t shake the familiarity of it, threaded through the growing ache. “I love us spending so much time together, Mom, really I do. Moving here actually turned out to be awesome. But you have to have more to your life than just me and work.”

“I have hobbies,” she shot back. In reality, she had one hobby, and it was drawing a faceless figment of her dream imagination. Kind of sad at 30 years old, but beyond working out, chasing bail jumpers, and making an attempt at motherhood, it was the only thing she really had time left for. Henry didn’t care, anyway, going straight for the obvious.

“You have one hobby. And you have gotten really good. But when was the last time you went out? What's his face? Walnut or whatever?”

“Walsh,” Emma supplied. Walsh was nice, mostly unimpressive. He wasn’t Emma’s usual type, easy going and mellow. They talked for hours the times he actually got Emma out of the house, but it all felt surface level to her, nothing deep or emotionally connecting. Walsh was fine; he was safe. He had never met Henry, and, like the other sporadic dates she had over the years, she wasn’t sure he would.

“Walsh,” Henry corrected, an unimpressed look on his face. Emma concurred. “You should go out with Walsh. Like, tonight.”

Emma set her face, her ears pricking at the tone in her son’s voice. He was up to something. Operation Make Mom Go Out, probably Code Name Constrictor or something similar. “What are you up to, huh? Trying to throw a wild party?”

“Yes, at twelve years old, I’m trying to get you out of our two-bedroom apartment so I can throw a wild party. You caught me,” Henry rolled his eyes. Her chest got tighter. He sat in the barstool next to hers, leaning his head against her shoulder to look down at his charcoal likeness. “You’re so busy making sure I’m okay here, but what about you, Mom? I want you to be happy, too.”

“Henry,” Emma started, but the rest of her sentence disappeared as tears formed unbidden. She wiped them as sneakily as she could, but Henry wrapped his arm around her back and squeezed.

“I know I was an ass when we moved,” Emma ignored his swearing; he got it from her, after all. “But I really do like it here. Everything moves so fast, there are so many people. You can just go out and…”

“Be anybody,” Emma finished. She understood the feeling. Reinventing herself was something she shied away from, too set in the safety she had clawed out for herself and Henry. Maybe he was right; she needed to embrace the city like he had. Maybe it was time for a change. But something would never be the same, no matter that she didn’t know what it was. “Fine, kid; you win. I’ll see if Walsh is busy tonight.”

The smile that lit across Henry’s face was at least a thousand kilowatts, beaming at her with such intensity that she had no choice but to smile back and laugh as she leaned into his embrace. Emma wiped the dried tears from her eyes before rubbing her nose and standing from her stool. “How’d you get so wise, anyway, smart guy?” she asked in jest as she hip-checked him. He scoffed, bumping her back harder as she passed him into the hallway.

“I definitely didn’t get it from you,” he called after her. “Must’ve been my other mom!”

It was a joke, one cracked often at moments like this. But as Emma closed her bedroom door, the words settled over her like a fog, clinging to her skin and sinking deep into her chest. My other mom. The words echoed in her mind, sharper this time. She had laughed it off a hundred times before, but tonight they lingered, scraping at the edges of that ever present, hollow ache.

Untitled Document

Moving to New York had been a spur of the moment decision. Emma tried her best to fight her urge to run, to not stay in one place for too long, for Henry’s sake. It had been fine when he was younger; at least, that’s what she told herself. At twelve, on the edge of teenager-hood, he wanted to keep his friends longer than a school year. Emma didn’t blame him for wanting to grow roots, nor did she blame him for his surliness as they loaded the Bug for yet another move. She fed him a story about an old contact giving her a lead on plenty of work in the city and how good it would be for him.

“This is the last time, I promise. We’re staying in New York,” she had sworn to him.

But she wasn’t convinced in herself. And neither, Emma knew, was he.

New York had seemed like an answer. The inexplicable pull she felt to the city made sense to her—big city, great views, lots of bail jumpers. It was good for them; there was no shortage of idiots that thought they could run faster than her. Henry seemed to decide to ease up on his insistence on being mad at her, finding the amount of freedom he had in the city a suitable consolation prize for his suffering. He found the best pizza place and arcade within walking distance and filled their apartment with the smells and sounds that accompanied tweens and their friends. They found their stride together, creating new traditions as they adjusted. Still, the nagging persisted that something was wrong, tugging in Emma’s chest growing, twisting with an ache she had been ignoring since they’d returned from that damn road trip, to Maine, of all places.

At first, she thought it was just stress. Work picking up, Henry struggling to find his rhythm in a new place—but soon, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something deeper was pulling at her. Sleep no longer offered rest. Instead, it brought strange, hazy dreams where she fought dragons and wielded magic. They were ridiculous, something out of one of Henry’s comic books. Yet they always left her hollow, like she was searching for something vital—something she needed but couldn’t name.

The first time the woman appeared, Emma bolted upright in bed, drenched in sweat. The dream lingered, more real than any she’d had before: the weight of the woman’s hands on her shoulders, her voice urging Emma to take Henry to New York. “You’ll be happy there,” she’d said, her tone insistent yet tender. Emma could still see the wind tearing through the woman’s dark hair, her blurred face streaked with tears that Emma somehow felt, as though they were her own.

The emotions left Emma reeling—hot tears burning her cheeks, her breath coming in short, shallow bursts, her heart pounding erratically in her chest. It didn’t make sense, but it hurt, and the ache was unbearable.

Emma was no stranger to yearning for something she had never had. She’d spent a majority of her life with a quiet, persistent ache for something just out of reach - not meant for her. But this was different, sharper, more relentless. The only thing soothed her was Henry. His crooked smile and his laugh were a balm to the rawness in her chest. And when he gave her that look, the one where he cocked an eyebrow and tilted his head, mouth pursed in indignation as if to say Really?, it flooded her like cool water on a burn, washing her of the consuming restlessness.

The dreams slowly became clearer, more focused and less abstract. Emma shifted into a hero, saving people from curses and impossible threats. The mysterious woman came into focus slightly, no longer a vague shadow, but Emma’s partner, summoning fireballs and coaching her through spells. Their interactions had a sharp, playful edge, a strange kind of chemistry that made Emma crave the nights when they bantered and bickered like old rivals. The woman’s presence had become a strange comfort, and Emma clung to it, longing to see her face, to know her.

Sometimes, Emma thought she was close. She could almost make out the woman’s features, but the moment she tried to focus, the image would dissolve. Her voice would fade, the dream would collapse, and Emma would be left awake and frustrated in the dark. The woman began to haunt her—not in a frightening way, but with an ache that Emma couldn’t explain. She bought a sketchbook, desperate to capture her, drawing face after face in search of the right one. It wasn’t long before the pages filled with imagined eyes, lips, and expressions that didn’t quite fit.

It became an obsession. Emma went about her normal life, grocery shopping, dry cleaning, and catching assholes. But after Henry was tucked into bed, a comic book sprawled open on his chest, Emma would sketch. She had no real experience drawing, just a high school art class that she had mostly skipped in favor of literally anything else. Still, over time she developed some skill, consistently reproducing an accurate outline of the woman’s face and hair. No other feature she drew seemed to fit her face, even with the How to Draw Faces book she’d checked out when she took Henry to the library.

It was somewhere between her third and fourth sketchbook, Henry decided to intercede.

[wolfofcelestia]

Rings AO3

Zayne/You, someone who loves his rings and his fingers a little too much

Your moans and soft little cries are muffled by Zayne's fingers in your mouth, his left hand almost completely stuffed inside you. He looks down at you with a satisfied yet stern look.

"Careful," he says, tapping the cold metal of his pinky ring on your cheek. "You're drooling. All. Over."

Your tongue can't help but lap at his fingers, sucking his skin as if to try and regain some composure, but it's useless. You're a mess. Utterly depraved and desperate for him. But you don't care.

You'd let him make an even sloppier mess out of you if it meant feeling more of his warmth, more of his hands on you, inside you. If it meant hearing him murmur such lustful filth against your neck as he leaves marks of ownership on you, if it meant seeing his eyes go wild as his baser instincts throw off the chains of propriety, you'd gladly let him claim you, use you. Over and over again. Until you're completely and utterly his.

His fingers rub against a sweet spot inside your dripping cunt and it forces another moan, another whine, another muffled plea for release.

"How many times has it been now? Greedy little thing."

He emphasizes his words by thrusting his right index and middle finger in and out of your cunt. The solid metal of his rings, now carrying the heat of your body, drag back and forth between your inner walls. You can feel the rings clearly as he stretches your pussy with his large fingers, your tight yet yielding walls eagerly taking him in.

"If you like these rings so much, maybe that's all you need tonight. Or do you want something else from me?"

The pads of his fingers continue to hit your sensitive spots as he drives his ringed fingers in and out of you until you're whimpering, drooling, leaking all over his hands. But he's still as calm as ever, watching you closely. Your mind is swirling, breath ragged, as his fingers bring you close to the edge.

But then, his fingers stop moving, the sudden loss of stimulation causing you to gasp around his fingers and clench around him desperately.

"Answer me."

You whimper at his demand, nearly letting your impending climax crash over you. You've only ever heard his voice get this rough when he knows you're close, but it's nevertheless even-keeled, controlled.

"If you want more, then show me."

Despite his demand, his fingers only push deeper down your throat.

"Suck."

You obey readily. Your tongue washes over his fingers as you suck on them, as if he were a god feeding you the elixir of life.

"Good girl."

You moan around his hand as his fingers slowly slide out of your cunt, his rings rubbing against your delicate spots as a reward.

You lie beneath him with your thighs trembling, cunt leaking, eyes pleading for him to give you what you want. He's kept you on the edge for so long that any light touch might send you over, but as he takes his fingers out of your mouth, leans down, and kisses you slowly, deeply, his wet fingers sliding up and down the curves of your body, you know you're in for a long night.

[shouyuus]

─── Ⅵ FIGURE EIGHTS

violet; 28,888 words; fluff and smut (at the end), semi enemies to lovers, fake dating, hockey!vi x figure skater!reader, ice dancers!meljayce, miscommunication, smau-intermissions, toxic ex!cait, simpgirl!vi, slowburn, the gays r bad at feelings, lots of making out that almost leads to something, emotional edging (for YOU lol), fingering (both receiving), thigh riding, oral (r!receiving), slightly unhinged!reader, no "y/n"

summary: a hockey player and a figure skater kind of, sort of, not really, but then actually fall in love. what could possibly go wrong? (narrator: apparently, everything.)

a/n: YALL. yall. YOU. ALL. lmfao. i can't believe i finished this (i say, after writing any fic longer than 5k words). but i TRULY doubted for a second that i would bc as i kept writing, it kept... getting longer? i hope that this doesn't drag, and that you guys like it. it's really a fucking labor of love. like heavy emphasis on the labor. shoutout to @vifilms for being my emotional support, and to my irl bf for actually physically reading through like 90% of this fic out LOUD with me to make sure the dialogue doesn't sound awk. BUT ANYWAYS. pls enjoy and PLS tell me what u guys think!!!! the smau fake texts won't start till chapter three, but ! it's my first time making like.. fake texts so sldkfjsd.

TABLE OF CONTENTS ━

prologue: party people

chapter one: shut up and kiss me

chapter two: fists to a knife fight

chapter three: love's dream

chapter four: for cup's sake

chapter five: don't hate the player (suggestive)

chapter six: six (nsfw)

─── TAG YOU'RE IT .ᐟ.ᐟ

pls comment below if you'd like to be tagged for this series! :) if you're already on my vi-taglist via my normal taglist link, then you're all good. if you only wanna be tagged for this series, comment below! pls pls have your age visible somewhere on your blog as this will be an 18+ fic!!!! thank you!!!

prologue: party people

─── Ⅵ IT STARTS WITH A GAME of spin the bottle — a college party post-game, the home team the exhalant victors, the crowds of adoring fans the worshippers at their beer-tower altars, doing keg stands and shot-gunning cans of cheap bud lite for an approving grin or a wink.

“Remind me why we’re here again?” you ask, jerking back as a drunken guy nearly topples into you, the red solo cup in his hand sloshing over onto the already sticky linoleum floor.

Mel sighs, “Because, darling, you promised me that you’d come out at least once if me and Jayce made it through the Challenger Series this year.”

She tugs you behind her, weaving through the crush of bodies till the cramped living room area opens onto a much larger patio, the mid-autumn chill cooling your skin.

“It was a joke,” you say, whining slightly even as Mel grabs what looks like an unopened hard cider from the table and presses it into your hand.

“Yes, and one that hurt my feelings,” Mel sniffs, turning her nose up, though a grin teases at her lips, “so to make up for it, you now have to stay at this party and have some semblance of a good time.”

And that was three and a half drinks ago, because sometime between then and now, you’ve found yourself pulled into an unwitting game of spin the bottle with what seems like half the entire hockey team, sitting next to Mel, her boyfriend Jayce on your other side, chatting animatedly with one of the girls hockey girls. You overhear the words “creatin” and “Bulgarian Squat” and decided that it’s time for you to tune out of the conversation.

“Vi, it’s your turn!”

Vi, your thoughts linger over the sound.

It’s a pretty name.

You glance up at the girl sitting across from you, Number Six — you’ve always known her as that, what with the tattoo on her cheek (there were rumors that it’s actually not real and she just reapplies one of those temporary tattoos every two weeks) and the fact that it’s her jersey number, it’s really not too hard to remember.

“Yeah, yeah,” she says, laughing as she reaches for the empty beer bottle in the middle of the circle. Her right hand’s bandaged up and you can’t help staring at it. When you look up next, it’s to catch her watching you, your eyes meeting in a startling clash of raw contact — the cacophonous noise of the party dulling out to a thin whine somewhere at the back of your head as you stare at her and she stares right back.

You’d never noticed that her eyes, even in the dark, beneath the dim, flickering patio lights, reads mourning-dove blue, so subtle it’s almost gray, so sharp as she takes you in that your stomach drops from inside you. She smirks and twists her fingers expertly around the bottle, setting it whizzing.

You tear your eyes away, your breath sent astray in your chest by just that look alone. You frown at the spinning bottle, your mind abuzz with fragmentary thoughts you can’t quite string along for long enough to form a full sentence — eyes… her lips are pretty… wasn’t she dating… someone? who??? what’s her name again? something pretty —

“— right, ice princess, you ready?”

“Huh?” you jerk your eyes up from the bottle to find everyone watching you. From your left, Mel nudges you with a sanctimonious grin, her eyes flickering down to the bottle and back up towards —

“Go on!” she hisses, even as you blink uncomprehendingly down at the bottle pointing right at you.

Across the circle, Vi’s questioning smirk is all the answer you need as your alcohol-addled brain finally puts together the pieces.

“R-right…” you push up onto your knees, but something holds you back, a niggling feeling in the back of your brain as Vi’s smirk grows wide and she jerks her head towards the living room.

“Want a bit of privacy? Or… would you prefer an audience?”

Half the circle wolf-whistles at the insinuation, the other half roll their eyes, leaning back on their elbows as if to settle in for a long night.

You lick your lips, feeling your mouth scald dry.

“Privacy. Please.”

You follow Vi stiffly from the patio back into the stuffy house, her fingers closing around your wrist as she tugs you behind her through a long hallway splitting off from the main living room, branching into a series of what look like bedrooms. Half the doors are closed, illicit sounds echoing out from behind them, but Vi finds an empty one near the end of the hallway and pushes it open, leading you inside.

“Oh wow,” you say, looking around the room. It’s a typical fratboy’s room, full of suggestive posters, the floor littered with questionably laundered clothes.

“What, not your ideal setting for a makeout-sesh with a stranger?”

You frown as your eyes slingshot back to Vi, her standing feet from you, hands tucked loosely into her pockets, watching you with dark, firefly eyes.

“Thought we were just supposed to kiss once.”

Vi chuckles, closing the distance between you in a few quick strides, crowding you up against the closed door.

“Sure. We can do that. Or…” she makes no effort to hide the way her eyes flicker down to your lips, trailing back up in a line of fire that sizzles against your skin. “I could show you what a real good time looks like.”

Your breath crystalizes in your chest, and the strange, tickling feeling traces down the back of your head till it gathers, hot and unconscionable at the nape of your neck — a spin-click wheel of half-formed thoughts and images ticking by behind your eyelids as you try to remember why the hell this feels so wrong.

And then, it clicks, and you press a hand to Vi’s chest just as she’s leaning down to graze her lips against yours, the friction so delicious you almost lose your train of thought.

“A-are you sure this is a good idea? Didn’t you just break up with that track and field girl? Caitlyn?” you blurt out, a culmination of all the snippets of whispered conversations and half-caught glances of the pair of them across campus. The It-Girl Couple, people called them, the hockey team star and the track and field genius. They were hard to miss, and even harder to forget.

A moth-wing-flicker of emotions crosses Vi’s face as she takes half a step back, her expression morphing into one of shock, and then hurt, and finally, hard-lined disgust as she looks down at you with a thin-lipped grimace.

“Oh fuck you.”

She yanks you from the door, storming out without a backwards glance. You catch yourself against the half-made bed, your breath coming in heaving pants as your head spins. Guilt curdles in the bed of your stomach like spoilt milk, and it only takes you half a second to realize that of all the things to say, that probably was the worst possible choice.

You’d heard mention of the breakup, even if you didn’t have any stakes in this so-called game. It was harsh and messy and loud, and it had spilled across campus like a backed-up toilet, oozing foulness and stank across the grounds till not a single person was left unstained in the aftermath.

“Wait —” you stumble after Vi, but it’s too late. By the time you reach the patio doors, she’s already settling back into her place in the circle, an easy grin slung across her lips.

You swallow, pushing through the door to scurry over to Mel’s side. Mel beams at the flush in your cheeks, convinced (just like the rest of the circle) that it’d been one hell of a kiss, judging by how entirely breathless you are.

“Damn Vi, you gotta learn how to go easy on them figure skaters, hm?” Margot smirks, her eyes glittering as she looks you over, “look at the poor darling — she can barely breathe!”

Everyone laughs, and Vi flashes a convincingly satisfied smirk, shrugging up a shoulder. You glance at her, only to shiver at the arctic ice behind her gaze as your eyes catch once more.

“What can I say? Easy isn’t a setting I come programmed with.”

You duck your head as Vi casts you one more frigid look before turning to laugh at something a teammate has just said, and the circle devolves into good-natured banter and pocket conversations. You gulp around your too-dry throat and pluck Mel’s drink from her hand, tossing the rest of it back in a single gulp. She blinks at you, eyes wide.

“Darling, are you —”

“I — I’m fine just — it’s — I think I’m gonna head back.”

Mel frowns, “Are you sure? I mean —” she looks towards where Vi’s been pulled into an impromptu arm-wrestling match with some dude from the football team, “you could try and —”

You shake your head, “No, I — I think I’m good. I had a good time, I just —” you run a hand through your hair, “I’ve got practice tomorrow and Amara’s gonna murder me if I get there late.”

Mel stares for a second before relenting, a soft sigh on her lips.

“Alright, alright — go on then. I’ll… I’ll see you tomorrow at practice, yes?”

You give her a tight-lipped smile, reaching out for a quick hug before ducking out of the party, skirting the edges of the growing mosh pit forming in the living room till you finally find yourself out on the front steps again.

You close your eyes for a second, pressing your back to the frat house door, feeling the dull thump of the music inside reverberating through the thin wooden frame as you breathe in and out.

You can still taste the heat of Vi’s breath on your lips, feel harsh sting of ice as she’d caught your eyes after. The chill air, once refreshing, pebbles your skin and an involuntary shiver shakes down your spine. You wrap your arms around yourself and give your head a good shake.

Whatever, you think, stepping off the porch, casting your eyes up at the star-strewn sky, a whisp of warm breath fogging up the air before you.

Not like it’ll matter. Bet she won’t even remember me after tonight.

taglist: @traiitorjoe @rizzscary @wetcat020 @alex-thegiraffeboyy @nanasemo @saturnhas82moons @unear7hly @drsnowrose @grantaires-waistcoat @isab3lita @ally-all-around @starrysetup22 @lipsent @lewd_alien @jack-frost-2010 @starsfortaylor @onesockcat @lesbian-useless @armins-slvt

[ilylovelyz]

⍣ ೋ Rom-Com Gone Wrong

˚ · . bakugou katsuki x afab!reader

: ̗̀➛ takes place during their third year, mentions of injuries and blood, forced intake of aphrodisiac, unestablished relationship, mutual pining, love confession, both characters are 18, protected sex, implied unprotected sex, virgnity loss, misunderstandings, a bit angsty, bakugou is lowky ooc and gentle, this is really long

following a rough battle with a rather inconvenient villian and his quirk, y/n finds herself induced with aphrodisiac against her will. she wins the encounter, only to be told if she doesn't relieve her sexual desires within 24 hours with another individual she will die.

"i'll be the one to do it," mineta says, trying to sound nonchalant about the situation, flipping his non-existent hair off to the side if his shoulder. the girls, in unison, disagree verbally, knowing of his creepy tendencies.

"can't she just do it with a girl?" tsuyuri thinks aloud, attempting to find an easy way for you to feel more comfortable with the situation. "if that's the case, then i'll do it!" ashido declares, raising her hand in the air.

this has been the subject of conversation for the past hour or so. yes, your classmates and even teachers are conversing on what to do about your current state, on who will be the one to sleep with you. it's almost heartwarming, to know that your classmates care so much about you that they'd be willing to sleep with you if it means you'll live.

which is exactly what it means. exactly nine hours ago, you had a confrontation with a well-wanted villian. you knew of the risks, you knew of his horrendous and taboo quirk. you knew that he used his quirk to take advantage of women who were defenseless and practically leaving them for dead within 24 hours of interaction.

quirks like these were rare, none of your classmates nor teachers had any experience with this type of thing. originally, the teachers were going to discuss of this situation privately, but after almost three hours had gone by with no real possible solutions, they had decided to involve your dearest classmates to come up with something, anything to help save your life.

"no, according to the villian and the tiny information we were able to get out of him, it has to be done with a male." midnight had said, rubbing at her temple to ease her stress. your female classmates groaned with frustration, side-eyeing mineta with disgust.

"t-then i'll do it!" a new contender had volunteered. "y-you? y/n needs a real man, denki—," jirou had said, trying to play of her nervousness with a chuckle. "i agree." momo said sternly.

"no offense but.. how about the boys leave this discussion to the boys." she added on, having distrust in the intentions of her male classmates. "i know you boys just want to do what you can to help her, but we also have to think about how this will affect her mentally."

the topic carried on with the girls, occasionally one of the boys attempted to give a idea, but were almost immediately shot down due to it's risk.

admist to all the tension and debate, there was one who was uncharacteristically quiet. bakugou katsuki.

all of the boys were huddled into a circle, behind the girls, listening into their plan. however, it was bakugou who stuck out like a sore thumb. he kept his hands in his pockets, a rather stoic expression written onto his face as he stared up to the ceiling.

"i'll do it! you guys just gotta trust me!" mineta yelled once more, his body jolting with fear when he was met with clear resistance from the girls.

everyone was too wrapped up in figuring out a game-plan to even notice that bakugou had taken his leave, muttering a scoff at his classmates's immaturity and perversion.

he made his way to the dorms, his hand rubbing at the tense skin of his nape. bakugou stopped in his tracks, seemingly he wasn't the only one who had the same idea. his hands returned to their place in his pockets, his eyebrows furrowing at the sight of his classmate, todoroki shouto, standing a few feet away from your dorm room.

"what are you doing here?" bakugou asked, resting his body weight on his right leg. todoroki looked back at bakugou calmly, observing the blonde's stiff movements. "i want to help y/n-san." todoroki stated, glancing back at the door of your room.

bakugou scoffed at his answer, rolling his eyes to the back of his head. "yeah right—you?" he hissed, coming up to todoroki and shoving him away from your door. "don't make me laugh. i'll be the one to do it."

todoroki stayed in place for a moment, blinking at bakugou's aggression and determination. he glanced once more at your door, and then back to bakugou before sighing with defeat and turning around to head god knows where.

bakugou scoffed once more, not taking his eyes off todoroki until he was well out of his sight. bakugou turned around, his red eyes staring intently at your door. he chewed on the walls of his mouth, wondering how to go about the situation.

as brash as he may be—he's not an idiot. he knows that if you don't end up getting any help within a few mere hours, you'll die. and thats not what he wants. to stand and watch while his dumb classmates argue over who will be the one to have the honor of having sex with you is something he won't abide with.

ೄྀ࿐

a soft moan escaped your lips at the feel of your fingers caressing against your sensitive folds. a drop of sweat ran down your flushed face, running down to your collarbone and dampening the sheer tank you were wearing.

there was a knot in your abdomen, a very tight knot, that has been yet to be undone. normally, when you had this kind of urge, you'd be able to satisfy it yourself. but it's been nearly eight hours since you'be been drugged, and the effects only get more and more intense with every passing minute.

you're tired. your body is coated in a thick layer of sweat, the room smells grossly of your own scent, and it's been eight hours—yet no release. tears sting at your waterline, your hand coming up to cover your pathetic whines and cries as your fingers scissor their way into your cunt, trying to find relief to your frustration.

you gasp with pleasure when your finger nails press ever so slightly against that one spot, hazy eyes going wide when you finally find it. your back arches off the bed, toes curling when you can barely press your fingerpads against that sweet spot, but nonetheless it's something.

your body jolts when you hear a light knock at your door, hands flying to grab onto your blanket to hide your half-naked body. you sat frozen on your bed, eyes watching the door.

a couple of moments later, once again the visitor knocked, snapping you out of your haze. you rushed to find any pajamas or clothes to wear, eventually settling on a pair of grey pajama shorts. the visitor knocks again once more, earning a groan from you. "g-give me a second!" you hiss loudly, dusting off your body and finally walking up to your door.

with a deep inhale, you open up your door a few inches, hiding your sweat-ridden body behind the large frame and peeking out your head to see the visitor.

your heart drops into your stomach at the sight of the familar blonde, his red eyes lidded low at you. "b-bakugou?" you stutter out, your cheeks blushing intensely when you feel your core throb at just the sight of him. "what... are you doing here?" you say, swallowing down the fat lump in your throat.

bakugou stares at you, his facial expressions uncharacteristically calm and unreadable. "..isn't it obvious?" he says nonchalantly, taking a step towards the door. his low tone heats up your body, making you impossibly warmer with embarrassment to top it off with your seemingly insatiable desire.

still, you don't move from the door, and if anything, push it forward so only a few centimeters remain between the frame and the door itself. your forehead rests against the wood, contemplating your options.

bakugou katsuki has come to your door to do the obvious with you. for many others, this would be a dream come true—and it almost is, for you, almost. tears cloud your vision once more at the thoughts that run throughout your head, he's only here because you'll die.

"let me in y/n,—", "no, i don't want you here." you interrupt, still hiding behind the door. bakugou's eyes widen slightly at your refrusal, not expecting you to shut him down given the situation.

to you, it's almost insulting—bakugou katsuki is here to have sex with you, to save you. your crush of many years, is here to have sex with you, but only because he feels the need to save you, not because he wants to.

bakugou sighs silently, he knows its a sensitive matter, that you're practically forced to have sex with someome that you possibly don't like just to live. his fists tighten up into a ball, his eyebrows furrowing at your stubbornness. but he won't have you die, he won't knowing he could help you.

"y/n. open the door or i'm going to break it down myself." he says sternly, his voice raising slightly. it sends shivers down your spine, but still you hold your ground. alas, you find it within yourself to close the door, only for it to be held open by bakugou who most definitely overpowers you when it comes to strength. with a grunt, your already weak arms give in, quickly dropping back to the floor as the door slams against the wall now that bakugou has won the short game of tug-o-war.

bakugou makes his way into your room, not even caring to check if the door handle has made a new hole in the wall. his mouth opens, ready to say something, only to purse into a straight line when he sees the tears flowing down your cheeks.

"i don't want you here." you mumble out, attempting to hide your tears by wiping them away as quick as they came.

with a grunt, bakugou is pulling you up to your feet, his hands gripping onto your shoulders while his lips smash against yours. the kiss is rough, almost uncomfortably stiff. and yet, you almost let out a moan of satisfaction just by him giving the worst kiss ever. he pulls away a moment later, his hands keeping you in place.

not like you'd be able to walk away even if you wanted, your gaze was fixated on his soft features, eyeing those lips of his. this time, it's bakugou whose walking away—and it's you who is running after him.

with haste, you push yourself forward to the blonde, your hand wrapping around his wrist and pulling him back to you. bakugou breathes out a grunt when your lips collide with his once more, desperate and clumsy, more teeth than tongue. you can't help but grab into bakugou's broad shoulders before finding better purchase by wrapping them around his neck, feet on all toes in order to reach his lips.

bakugou pulls away from you, quickly shutting the door and locking it. though, he barely has time to do the second, as soon as the door is closed, you're pushing him against it and shoving your body against his, encapturing his lips with yours once again. he swallows your desperate whines, his tongue fighting for dominance against yours. it's messy, it's not at all in sync—but just that alone has your body heating up than what you thought was possible.

and bakugou can feel it. his hands find purchase on the small of your waist—your skin is hot to the touch, almost fever hot. he raises an eyebrow when the feel of his skin on yours alone has you letting out a soft moan, much to your embarrassment. experimentally, bakugou's hands travel down to the curve of your ass, squeezing the plump flesh lightly, earning a gasp from your lips.

seeing this, bakugou pulls away from you, a fat string of saliva connecting the two of you. his red eyes watch you tortuously, watching the way your delicate features contort with pleasure as his hands explore your ass, his squeezes getting more and more rough as your body reacts. his finger glides up to the hems of your shorts, playing with the drawstrings and eventually pulling on one to untie the knot, allowing your flimsy excuse of so-called shorts to drop and lay around your feet.

your cheeks burn at the way he stares closely at your half-naked body, eyes darting down to the ground when you realize that you didn't even put on any underwear. to you, bakugou is eyeing your body, looking for any imperfections and unsatisfying marks.

but to bakugou, he has to hold back a groan by biting on his lower lip at the sight of your bare cunt. his hands tighten it's grip on your hips, attempting to keep his composure. bakugou finally pushes himself off the door, leading you quickly by the small of your waist to your bed.

with a gentle shove, you're laying down onto your back, your legs dangling off the edge of the mattress. your eyes widen when bakugou's hands grab the hems of his shirt, pulling it up to his head and discarding of his shirt, revealing his rather toned abs and few scars he's gained in the various fights he's gotten into as a hero.

your mouth is agape in awe, practically drooling at the sight of his fit muscles and small waist. without another word, your hand subconsciously reaches for him, generously touching the muscles of his abdomen. for the first time of the night, bakugou finally shows some emotion, smirking widely at your infatuation with his abs.

"i know i got some great abs, huh?" he grins, his hand coming up to rest on the flesh of your thigh. his grin flattens to an slightly agape 'O' when your hand travels down lower to his lower pelvis, your nails caressing the skin, sending shivers down his spine. dangerously, it continues, your fingers meddling with the edge of his baggy pants, circling the metal button.

before you could do anything else, bakugou is grabbing your hand away, and much to your surprise, settles himself inbetween your bare legs, eyeing your exposed cunt. naturally, you rush to close your legs, but are stopped by his hands that rest on both of your inner thighs.

"don't try to hide yourself from me." he growls lowly, his cock growing hard in his pants at the fuller sight of your glistening cunt. a yelp leaves your throat when you are pulled closer to the edge of your bed, cunt mere centimeters from bakugou's face. your eyes close shut, palm hiding your face in embarrassment.

"open your damn eyes, you're gonna watch as i eat this pretty pussy." he hisses out before blowing lightly onto your folds, enjoying the way your thighs shiver. with a lick of his lips, bakugou dives into your cunt, his tongue dragging across your folds and into your core. you let out a rather loud moan at the feel of his tongue exploring your cunt, your hands diving down to entangle themselves in his short blonde locks.

as told, you watch bakugou devour your poor pussy through tears, moaning into your palm to not let anyone hear the way you're getting eaten out by one of your classmates. your eyes roll to the back of your head when you feel bakugou enter his index finger into your tight walls, massaging your gummy walls without mercy.

"bakugou.." you mewl out, back arching off the bed when you feel the knot in your stomach begin to unravel. the fingers tied in his hair pull tightly on his roots, earning a hum of satisfaction leave his lips, vibrating against your clit so deliciously it has you sobbing out his name within seconds and squirming within his tight hold as you cum. tears run down your cheeks as your body convulses with pleasure, eyebrows furrowed intensely as your first orgasm of the night washes over you.

a minute later, you finally come down to earth, chest heaving heavily as your eyes focus down to bakugou who licks up the remains of your delicious juices. it's so over stimulating, but it feels so good, the way his tongue laps up your cum as if he was a starved man.

for a second, you close your eyes, basking in the sweet after-glow of your orgasm before a familar vibrating sound snaps you out of your bliss. bakugou holds up the pink bullet-vibrator within his hand, cocking his head to the right. "this yours?" he asks teasingly, a sly grin painted into his face.

before you could respond, bakugou is pressing the bullet against your clit, sending waves of overstimulated pleasure up your spine. you wiggle and shift on your bed, attempting to get away from it, from him, but in the heat of the moment you seem to have forgotten of bakugou's trained strength. he pins your hips onto the bed with ease with one hand, and holds the bullet to your clit with the other.

he evilly chuckles into your cunt, his tongue gliding into your tight hole. your cries and pleas are melodies to his ears, and he only stops when your thighs are shaking for a second time around his head and your pussy walls are tightening up around his tongue. he hungrily laps up your fluids once more, the tip of his nose brushing up against your clit as he discards of the vibrator in order to grab onto the back of your thighs and practically smothers himself into your pussy.

finally, once he's deemed you cleaned up and not an ounce of your cum wasted, he pulls away from your drenched pussy. his chin glistens with your juices, his tongue lapping up any remains on his lips. his ruby red eyes watch as your chest heaves up and down, his hand grabbing your wrist that was covering your flushed face and discarding it to the side.

he passionately kisses you, not like the kisses you two shared earlier. rather, your inhaling his heavy breaths as his hips roll subconsciously into yours, his hard-on poking against your inner thigh. "bakugou.." you exhaled against his lips, your hand sliding inbetween your close bodies to palm his confined cock.

bakugou lets out a almost pained groan, his eyebrows furrowing at the feel of your hand brushing against his cock's tip. "fuck.." he groans, his head dipping down to your chest when your hand slides below his trousers and over his confined boner. "wanna help you too bakugou," you mumble shyly, batting those pretty eyelashes at him.

the tempered blonde seems to have been frozen in place at your unexpected boldness, his cock growing impossibly harder at your words. he curses under his breath when your hand glides in between the gap of his boxers, your fingers coming into contact with the skin of his cock.

you're so unexpected. it's all bakugou can ever think of. unlike all the others, you've surprised him the most. you've surprised him with your wits—instead of strength and speed. no matter how mean or offensive he's been to you, you've been nothing but a saint—going so far to even nurse him back to health after a particularly aggressive battle with a villian.

thats why he had to be the one to help you. after all you've done for him, he had to return the favor in the one time he could save your life, even if it meant having sex would save you. he wasn't about to let those ungrateful, clueless extras do it with you either when they didn't deserve the opportunity to have you so vulnerable for them.

and having sex with you doesn't seem too bad, not in the slightest. especially not when your hand is pumping his cock so deliciously. bakugou's lips apart slightly, a sharp gasp escaping when your palm tightens around his sensitive cock.

you jolt when bakugou's own hand wraps around your wrist firmly, practically slapping it away from his cock. you look up at him with filmy eyes, looking for an explanation within his own. "gotta focus on you," he mumbles under his breath, his hands coming down to your hips and dragging you down to him.

bakugou finally begins to undo his belt, the metal buckle causing your ears to tingle. he pushes down his pants to his lower thighs, for a second he glances up at you, to which you can see a small glimpse of the red tint that covers the apples of his cheeks and the way he stares intently at your features, most likely waiting to see your reaction.

he slides his dark red boxers down to the middle of his thighs, just enough to free his cock of his uncomfortable confines. and, just wow, maybe it's because you're quite literally drugged with a sex drug, or maybe he's just that perfect—but just the sight of his cock has your pathetic pussy walls clenching and throbbing around nothing.

your mouth salivates at the mere thought of his cock, and just now seeing it—god you just want him to fuck you already. without a thought, your hand reaches once more for him, only for bakugou to pin your wrist down to the side of your body, his own climbing on top of the bed. your legs come to rest on each sides of his hips, his thighs underneath yours while he sits on his knees.

it seems you're not the only one so horny, afterall, as bakugou wrapped his hand around cock, his hips inching closer to yours, his body jolted, eyes widening. his sudden movement has your heart dropping in your stomach, a cold sweat breaking out on your body. "w-what? what is it?" you stutter out, your hand crossing defensively over your clothed chest.

bakugou's cheeks seem to bloom more a shade of red as he leans back, searching for something in his pocket. "hah.. i almost forgot the condom.." he says, taking out the unmistaken small square packet out of his pocket.

you chuckle lightly at the mistake, feeling embarrassment for yourself as well. to think that you two were so wrapped up in the heat of the moment that you almost forgot the condom gives such a strange feeling in your stomach.

finally, bakugou puts the condom on, a bit shaky with embarrassment as he slides it on. all prepared, he looks up at you—possibly the calmest you've ever seen him, but there's a hint of seriousness and maybe even care with the way his eyebrows are furrowed lightly or how his eyes never leave your face.

"ready?" he asks cautiously, his hand gripped onto the underside of your thigh with the other resting on the side of your lower stomach. with your nod of approval, bakugou meets his thighs to your ass, his cock tip pressing lightly against your virgin hole.

before bakugou could go any further, your soft sobs stop him. his head immediately snaps up to yours, his eyes wide with shock. your eyes are once again wet with tears, eyebrows arched and lips frowning.

"i know this is not very convenient, y/n, but if we don't do this, you'll die-", he tries to say before he's interrupted by your sobs and hiccups. through fat tears and incoherent sentences, you finally manage to say something clear.

"it's not that." you practically hiss, surprising the blonde. "..then what is it?" he urges, a confused expression forming on his face. with a loud sigh, you groan loudly with anger and sadness, practically throwing your hands to your face as you try to wipe away your never-ending tears.

"i d-didn't want it to be like t-this!" you sob loudly, your shoulders jumping with every hiccup. before bakugou could press any further, the years of untold suffering and thoughts just came rushing to you, spilling out of your mouth like vomit. "i-i didn't w-want it to be l-like this! to happen like this!"

"oh my g-god! bakugou i've been in love with you since i've m-met you—and it–it hurts—for it to happen this way—you're only doing this just b-because you f-feel obligated to do i-it—not because you l-love me—" you mumble out, hands covering your eyes to avoid seeing his reaction.

"for it to ha-happen this way—it's like a whole prank..! like a fucking—slap in the face!" you say, practically yelling the last part as your hands fly down to the bed with frustration, finally meeting bakugou's gaze. your sobs quiet down, stomach churning at the realization of the word vomit you just had.

you thought he would be weirded out, maybe even make fun of you for it. but instead, bakugou is now looking at you with an unfamiliar gaze, full of something that seems to just be more than politeness and friendly care. sure, he's not smiling, but the way his red eyes are half-lidded, pupils dilated so big they might as well just be black, his eyebrows no longer furrowed but instead arched upwards with what seems to be surprise.

before you could say anything else, waves of sharp pain are shot up your spine as bakugou unexpectedly pushes in the tip of his cock, his arms now finding purchase by wrapping around your waist, lowering himself closer to you.

his lips press yours, slow and steady as he inches his fat cock into you. he pulls away from your lips with a grunt, his eyebrows arched downwards as he tries to set aside the way your cunt feels so heavenly wrapped around the end of his cock.

"i'm sorry for how i've been treating you." he says lowly, his teeth nipping at the pristine skin of your collarbone. "i just didn't know how to tell you—didn't think you felt the s-same," he breathes out, stuttering the last word when your walls clench around his cock. bakugou curses under his breath, trying to ground himself by pawing at your clothed breasts, sliding his hands under your tank to feel the bare skin.

bakugou's words has fresh tears forming once again at your water line. "the same..?" you think out loud, a hiccup escaping your throat at the realization.

"f-fuck, y/n—," he chokes out, his balls becoming flush with the curve of your ass. "bakugou.. the same?" you urge on, a small gasp leaving your lips when his cock tip glazes against your sweet spot. it takes bakugou to find the strength to answer, but he does with a groan, rising his upper body to have a better look at the sight of you.

"..yes the same you dummy." he finally confirms, his eyes unable to lock with yours, instead choosing to glue themselves to the sight of your tight pussy swallowing his cock. without wasting another second, your hands fly to his nape, pulling him back down to kiss him roughly. the two of you moan into the kiss, your hands desperately exploring the skin of his back while his continue to grope and massage your breasts.

"hah—i just couldn't allow it.. i didn't want the others to have you.." he groans out, his hips speeding up against yours. his teeth bite at your breasts possessively, leaving dark red marks over the unmarked flesh. his possessiveness sends a shiver up your spine, making you impossibly more hornier than you thought possible.

"baku—katsuki," you mewl out, your fingernails digging trails of red into the skin of his back. his head nods silently at your use of his first name, his ears tingling intensely.

his head tilts up to face yours, unprepared for what you were about to say. "please fuck me. i need you."

with a few words of heavy profanity, all previously known touches of gentleness are thrown out the window and bakugou is throwing your leg over shoulder and practically folding you in half. bakugou is quick to cover your mouth with his palm, if not your screams of pleasure would be heard by all the other people in these dorms—and he's not quite on board with any nobodies hearing your pretty moans.

bakugou practically jackhammers his hips into yours, his cock tip bullying your cervix. your eyes roll to the back of your head at the foreign feeling of your cervix being fucked, of your cunt being mercilessly destroyed by a fat cock. your hand flies up to the head board, desperately attempting to find purchase on anything to keep you grounded.

his cock grazing your sweet spot has you screaming once more into his palm, creaming around him for the first time that night. "f-fuck—" bakugou curses loudly, his teeth drawing blood on his lower lip in an attempt to hide own moans.

your cunt walls have a vice grip on his cock, practical almost leaving him unable to move as you cum around him. still, bakugou works his hips in and out, doing everything in his power to prevent himself from cumming just yet.

in an last ditch effort to do so, bakugou lifts his palm up from your mouth, flipping your body so you lay onto your stomach. he's quick to shove his cock back into your overstimulated cunt, rutting into you like a dog in heat. bakugou doesn't find it within himself to care when you're moaning so loud that the first floor can probably hear you, neither does he care that he's fucking you so hard that the bed frame begins to slam against the wall.

all he cares about is destroying your cunt, destroying you, something he's been wanting to do since he's met you. "fuck, fuck, fuck, y/n you feel so fuckin' good—i'm gonna cum," he babbles, his cock growing hard at the sight of your fat ass bouncing with every impact of his thrusts.

you're no better off than him, moaning his name desperately like a mantra. bakugou finally comes with a sharp and deep thrust, pushing his cock so deep it has the tip flush with your bruised cervix. he groans incoherent words, most likely profanities, as he cums into the condom, his hands gripping on the swell of your hips as he tries to ground himself.

you cum just at the unmistaken warmth that pools inside of you, tongue lolling out of your mouth pathetically. your body twitches underneath his weight, hands weakly grabbing onto his biceps. "katssshuki.." you mewl out, stars practically twinkling in your eyes.

bakugou pulls out of you with a sharp inhale, taking off the filled condom. his cock twitches when you stop him just as he's about to throw away, taking the cum-filled latex from his hand and holding it over your mouth, allowing the cum to drip onto your tongue and into your throat.

he watches you with wide eyes as you practically suck the cum out of the condom before throwing it into the trash bin on the side of your bed. you look at him with a grin, licking your lips generously before giggling.

bakugou's face twitches uncontrollably, any remains of the composure and the obvious "better safe than sorry", he has left is discarded before he practically pounces on you like a wild beast.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

bakugou is jolted awake, his eyes darting to the door of your room. theres a couple of knocks, his eyes look for your clock, '5:04 AM'.

he shuts his eyes, fully okay with ignoring the late visitor before theres more knocks. bakugou, begrudgingly, gets up, only because he doesn't want you to wake up.

he wraps his lower body in a spare blanket, taking a few seconds to rub awaken more before he's inching the door open, just barely enough to see who the visitor is. though, his shoulders relax when he sees it's just mr. aizawa at the door, most likely checking up on your state.

mr. aizawa blinks unexpectedly at bakugou, surely not expecting him to answer the door. his expression softens at the realization, being quick to offer an explanation. "i was just coming here to see if y/l/n was alright.. but i see it's under control, right?"

aizawa punctuates the last word of his sentence with the tilt of his head, his eyes pointing out bakugou's half-naked body. bakugou in response sheepishly shrugs, muttering out a groggy 'yeah' before closing the door.

he stands at the closed door for a second, rubbing his eyes tiredly before turning around to go back to bed, your bed more specifically. he stops in his tracks for a moment before continuing, seeing that you're now sitting up and staring at him.

"katsuki.." you breathe out tiredly, practically purring when you feel his hand settle onto your hip, bringing you back down onto the bed with him.

the two of you share a chaste kiss, departing only to get a short breathe in before you're pushing your body against his, deepening the kiss once more for the nth time that night.

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[ssahotchnerr]

can i request - aaron and reader are just married and on a case where they are sharing a room? i feel like morgan would have a field day with the teasing!

honeymoon phase

YESSS LOL I ADORE THAT cw; fem bau!reader, established relationship, suggestive teasing remarks, brief mentions of sex, playful team banter 🤭

"Alright," Aaron approached, his impending footsteps breaking the soft conversation that had been unfolding amongst the team.

"Due to the winter storm that's rolling in, the hotel's almost at full vacancy. We'll have to double up." He handed Dave, Spencer, JJ a key card, keeping one for himself. "You all can decide who you'll share a room with. Sweetheart, you're with me. Let's meet here in the morning at eight, and head to the precinct together." Aaron finished, opting to grab his bag from your grasp, relieving you the need to hold it.

Everyone nodded in quiet understanding, heads moving in unison as they too collected their things. The discussions resumed - quick laughs, pairing up, the usual.

You yawned as you all trudged towards the elevator, eager for the warmth of bed. Additionally, the warmth of your husband's body beside yours.

However Derek stayed put, in such an obvious, idea-brewing sort of way. The gears in his head were turning; an undeniable, mischievous flicker in his eyes. His gaze followed the two of you, the newly wedded couple as of a month ago.

"Oh no," You mumbled jokingly under your breath, smushing your lower face into Aaron's shoulder.

"Hm?" Aaron hummed gently as his gaze shot down to you in question, his finger stopping short of the up button.

"Now remember you two, this isn't your honeymoon." Derek lectured as his index finger traveled between you and Aaron, doing an awfully bad job at keeping a straight face. "These walls," He moved to the side to tap his knuckle against the surface for dramatic effect, the sound produced sharp and reverberating. "are thin. We don't need y'all keeping us up to all hours. I would prefer to get some sleep tonight."

"You brought your headphones, didn't you?" Emily joined his banter, teasingly shoving her go-bag into his.

"You already know it. Now that these love birds have death till us parted, I'll never leave home without them. Can't be too careful." He tossed you a playful wink, daring you to quip back.

"You're funny." Aaron beat you to it, his eyebrows lifting in an eased, amused manner across his forehead.

Morgan flashed his dazzling smile, in awareness that yes, he was.

"But no." Aaron denied, with a small shake of his head. "Not on cases."

"Liar." Emily concealed in a cough, fist in front of her mouth.

But it was true. Moments of intimacy, out in the field, were few and far between. You were on the job, for one. And adequate rest was needed - for energy, focus, and the ability to stay sharp in high pressure situations. Without it, the smallest of missteps could cost lives.

It was achingly tempting at times; there had been countless times where you just wanted to jump Aaron and make him yours - you were still very much in the honeymoon phase. But you owed it to the victims, their grieving families, and any potential, future victims.

In addition, it only worked better in your shared favor when the time for sex did come. The build-up, the waiting, the restraint too much to bear and everything falling into place with a sense of release. It only added to the satisfaction.

If a case concluded, and the jet was grounded until morning - technically you were off the job. Anything could happen then.

"It's a good thing, for you that is. Wouldn't want to hurt your ego, Morgan." You flashed him a smirk. "With these 'thin walls', you'll be thinking you've been doing something wrong all this time."

Morgan's face instantly turned from amusement to slight dismay, his nose wrinkling up in disbelief. "I don't think so."

"She's right." Aaron confirmed, a knowing glint behind his eyes as he swiftly looked you up and down. A smile grew on your face, some heat rushing through your body. "Bed, sweetheart?"