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cillianmurphyygf · 4 months

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i think i'm in love with you

ꕥ luke castellan x afab!reader

warnings: descriptions of wounds + blood, allusions to sex but no actual smut, shitty writing (i havent wrote a fanfic in multiple years), not proofread cuz im way too lazy, (y/n) isn't used at all in this idk i almost like reading fanfic better without it

summary: you wake up in the middle of the night to strange noises. you find luke outside, with a deep wound in his side. you take him to the lake to take care of him. unfortunately for you, luke's in a teasing mood.

word count: 2.7k

You awoke suddenly to strange noises. Soft groans fell through the walls of your cabin. At first, you assumed it to be something you should be careful not to walk in on. But, as your head cleared up more as you fully woke up, it sounded more like someone who was in pain.

Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you slowly pulled the covers off of your body and stepped into a pair of soft slippers. You carefully weaved through the various beds in the dark towards the door. The groans continued, rendering you more concerned and nervous. You quietly eased the door open, wincing at every squeak it made. You peeked your head outside, searching for the source of the noise.

Through squinted eyes, your attention eventually landed on a certain Hermes boy laid down in the grass. Luke. You quickly shut the door, completely forgetting about keeping quiet, and tip-toe ran across the grass towards the boy. You and Luke had been friends for quite a while. You arrived at camp a month or so after him, and he was the most welcoming one there. While you remained unclaimed in the Hermes cabin for a few months, it didn’t really hurt as much while you were with Luke. He was the perfect distraction and a great friend, although you had begun to wish for something more.

“Luke!” You whisper yelled, causing him to practically jump a foot off the ground. Looking towards the startling voice, he realized it was you. He quickly sat up, his hand placed on his chest as he tried his best to calm his suddenly erratic breathing.

“Oh, thank gods, it’s just you,” he laughed breathlessly, suddenly wincing and placing his hand on his side. His flushed face turned down toward his wound before he threw his head back again, hissing in pain.

“What happened?!” You exclaimed in a panic, running to close the last piece of distance between you both. You quickly fell to your knees next to him, trying to get a good look at whatever was hidden underneath his hand. He attempted to laugh it off but immediately winced and groaned. His hand remained on his side, hiding whatever had happened. “Luke I’ve gotta see..” you tried.

“I’m fine,” he responded, dismissively. He gave you a tightlipped smile in an attempt to reassure you. It did quite the opposite. You reached your hand to pull his away from his side.

“You’re not fine Luke-” His free hand grasped your wrist tightly, preventing you from moving yours any closer to his wound. You stayed silent and unstill, unsure of the situation. In your moment of stillness, your eyes raked over his hand wrapped tightly around yours. The veins in his hand and forearm looked so perfect, especially under the soft moonlight. You wondered what his hand would look like wrapped around your-

“Hey!” Luke snapped his fingers in front of your face, trying to regain your attention.

“Huh?” You responded, clueless and still in a daze, your eyes stuck on his hand around yours. You could have sworn you saw a sly smirk adorn his face from the corner of your eye but you brushed it off. You were tired, you were probably just seeing things. You snapped out of your trance, looking back at his face, confused about everything. “Luke, you’ve gotta let me help you-”

“Princess, I-”

“I have no idea what you did or what happened to you, but I’m worried and you’re being so confusing right now..” You trailed off, avoiding his eyes for a moment. Princess. You hated (loved) when he used that nickname for you. It gave you hope that he could ever feel the same way about you. You heard Luke sigh.

“Okay, I just got in a bit of a fight with an Ares kid.. he pulled a knife on me, got me in the side.. I was clumsy, made a mistake,” he removed his hand from your wrist, prompting you to reconnect your eye contact. “I’m fine and I’ll be more careful next time.” He smiled, trying to dismiss your worries yet again.

“Can you show me?” You asked tentatively. He looked at you and nodded. You noticed that same smirk from earlier, only softer and more hidden. Maybe you hadn’t been imagining things. You watched his hand reach down to the hem of his shirt. Oh shit. You had not thought about that. You internally facepalmed. You were so fucked. His fingers wrapped around the bottom seam of his shirt as he pulled it up about halfway. Your eyes immediately darted to his wound. A seemingly deep gash ran from about the bottom of his ribs to the top of his pelvis. Blood trickled along his already blood covered skin. Oh it looked bad. You caught your bottom lip between your teeth, a nervous habit.

As you examined the bloody gash, your eyes had other ideas. Your gaze slowly moved on to take in his toned abdomen. He had nice abs, prominent, but not so much like those crazy American bodybuilders. They gave you the creeps. His were just the perfect shape, size, and.. everything about him was perfect. While his side was doused in his own blood, the rest of his abdomen was covered in scattered beads of sweat. He looked good. Like really good. Luke’s sharp intake of breath broke you out of your trance. You quickly cleared your throat, hoping he hadn’t noticed you had been examining the rest of his body instead of his injury.

“I’d ask if you like what you see but.. I’m in a bit of a predicament currently.” Luke chuckled, referring to the bloody gash. Your face flushed red. Shit, he noticed. You fumbled over your words, trying to form a coherent sentence. He watched you, amused, but still very evidently in pain. You abruptly stood up, offering Luke your hand.

“You got a kit or something I can use?” You asked as you carefully pulled him to his feet. His arm landed to rest over your shoulders. You felt the breath leave your body. He was so close. His body heat radiated heavily onto your already heated body. You hoped he couldn’t feel how hot you are, or how loud and hard your heart was beating. His quiet groan brought you back to your senses.

“Yeah I’ve got a kit hidden in the trees near the beach.” He finally answered. You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Why.. there?” You asked, genuinely confused. Luke looked down at you as if you should have already known.

“For times like these.” He replied, as if it were obvious. You just shrugged and let him slowly lead you to the beach. The trek through the grass proved a lot more difficult than you had expected. Random bumps and holes in the dirt caused you both to almost fall multiple times.

“Here,” Luke spoke and pointed a few feet in front of you. You nodded and slowly lowered him to the ground, leaning him against the tree. Your hands rummaged and dug through the dirt in search of Luke’s medical kit. Your fingernail eventually scratched along a hard, plastic surface. You dug your hands further into the dirt to pull the case out of the ground.

“I got it!” You sighed in relief. Your hands were becoming increasingly tired from all of the digging. You sat next to Luke, opening the latches of the small box. He smiled at you, watching your every move, completely mesmerized by you. You grabbed the small bottle of rubbing alcohol and popped it open. You opened your mouth to speak, looking up at Luke, only to find him already looking back at you. You quickly looked away, your face flushing a deep crimson. You took a deep breath before allowing yourself to actually speak.

“I’m gonna need you to hold your shirt up above the cut, if you’re comfortable.” You looked back up at Luke, nervously waiting for his response. You shouldn’t have been that nervous, you were just tending to his wound, nothing else. But still, the idea of asking him to lift up his shirt and reveal his really nice abdomen embarrassed you a lot.

“Yeah of course.” He replied in a suddenly husky, low voice. It caught you off guard, causing even more heat to rush to your cheeks.. and to the spot between your legs. He grasped the hem of his orange shirt and pulled it up, revealing the wound again.

“Okay.. this is gonna hurt, but I’ve gotta clean it out somehow.” You warned, slowly starting to pour the rubbing alcohol over the cut. Luke nodded in acknowledgement, hissing immediately as the strong liquid hit his skin. You hadn’t really treated all too many wounds in your lifetime, let alone a cut as deep and bloody as this one. You hoped you were doing it right and you weren’t making it worse. Luke’s harsh groans and hisses weren’t aiding your stressed mind. Throughout the few minutes you spent drenching his side in rubbing alcohol, you noticed him drop his shirt a few times, muttering apologies, saying his hands were having trouble keeping it up. You brushed it off each and every time it happened.

Once you finally deemed it enough rubbing alcohol, you moved away from his abdomen, grabbing the cap of the bottle. Your shaky hands tried closing the bottle but to no avail. You were stressed and embarrassed, and your entire body was shaking way too much. Luke’s warm hands grasped yours.

“Hey,” He whispered, grabbing your attention. You looked up at him. “I’ve got it.” He smiled at you, and carefully took the bottle from your palms to close it himself. You whispered your thanks under your breath, so quiet, you almost couldn’t hear it yourself. You reached back into the medical kit to pull out a cloth and an antiseptic wipe. You placed your hand on Luke’s cheek. Red slowly started to creep up his neck and into his cheeks, unbeknownst to you.

“I’ll be right back, I’m just gonna wet the cloth.” You told him, smiling and standing up.

“You’re too good to me.” Luke said, in that low voice, again. You turned quickly to hide your blush, making your way to the shore, as quick as you could. You dipped the cloth in the cold water and rung it out. You jogged back to Luke at the tree, dropping back onto your knees next to him. You lightly dabbed the cloth around his cut, trying to pick up and clean up the blood all over him. You did your best to avoid pressing into the actual cut, but failed a few times. Luke tried his best to keep his cool, but you could see how much he was hurting. You felt awful.

Occasionally, Luke would let the hem of his shirt slip out of his hands, obscuring your cleaning abilities. He would apologize profusely, telling you he had no idea why it kept happening. When you would shrug and go back to cleaning the blood, a smug smile would pull at his lips. You were so clueless.

You continued to clean the excess blood off of Luke’s body. His shirt would drop every couple minutes. He would apologize, and you would get back to work. This went on for a little over ten minutes.

You placed the cloth at your side, actually proud of what you had got done so far. You had managed to clean up the majority of the blood from his cut, and it was looking a lot better now. All that was left for now was to wrap it up and then send him for Ambrosia to finish the healing process.

As you grabbed the roll of bandage from the box, you watched Luke drop his shirt yet again. He sighed dramatically and threw his hands up in defeat.

“I just can’t keep my shirt up. Guess I’m just gonna have to take the whole thing off.” He sighed and grabbed the hem, pulling it up and over his head. You were practically drooling as you watched. The way his muscles flexed when he ripped his shirt off.. it was so.. hot. You could now see his entire toned abdomen, and his chest. Your face was surely beet red at this point. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him.

You had no idea in your trance, but Luke was watching the way you looked at him, a smug smile adorning his perfect face. He loved the way you reacted to his body. He thought you were the cutest thing. It was fun to see you all flustered like this. Eventually, by some miracle you were able to pull your eyes away from Luke’s body to focus on bandaging him up. You hastily unraveled the thin cloth, trying to ignore the burning feeling of Luke’s eyes on you, watching your every move.

You leaned over his body, trying to reach to start the wrapping. It turned out to be really difficult, as you could barely reach. You sat back and sat there for a moment, trying to clear your head and figure out your next plan of action.

“I’m not sure how I’m gonna..” You admitted quietly, embarrassed. Luke looked up at you with a very clear and obvious smirk on his face. This worried you. You had no idea what he was planning, and you did not want to make a fool of yourself.

To your immense surprise, Luke’s hands grabbed onto your hips and lifted you off the ground, making you squeal. He sat you down on his lap, in a straddle position. You were so close. Too close. The embarrassingly warm area between your legs sat right over his. You prayed and prayed he couldn’t feel it. You would never live it down.

“That’ll do it.” Luke smiled and pat your thigh encouragingly, causing you to let out a sharp squeak. You gulped and tried to focus on the bandage again. Your shaky hands brought the edge of the bandage to his back as you wrapped it around his torso, multiple times over. You wrapped it tight, but not too tight as to suffocate Luke.

Although, at that point it wouldn’t have mattered. Luke was completely focused on making you a flustered mess. The intense pain he was in was in the very back of his mind. He could barely feel it at this point. He was having way too much fun with you.

After the most painfully long two minutes of your life, you had finally finished wrapping Luke up. You let out a huge breath you didn’t know you were holding, feeling a weight drop off of your shoulders. You had never felt so stressed and embarrassed in your life. You hoped your work would hold up well and you had done it right.

Luke’s arms wrapped around your torso, pulling you in even closer. His nose brushed against yours as he looked up at you through heavy-lidded eyes.

“Thanks for your help,” he whispered in his gravelly voice. He leaned in even closer. “Means a lot.” He mumbled, almost against your lips. Your heart rate was through the roof. He was so close. So close you could kiss him. You could feel his breath mingling with yours. The warmth between your legs only continued to grow now. Luke chuckled lowly, watching the thoughts flow through your mind.

Luke moved his lips ever closer to yours. Dropping to a deep whisper, he spoke again. “I think.. I’m in love with you..” His lips moved slowly to capture yours. Your eyes widened, before you closed them, easing into his kiss.

Your lips moved in perfect unison, as if made for eachother. Your hands moved to grip his dark curls. You softly pulled, feeling him moan into your mouth. Luke pulled away, moving his lips to your neck. Nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. He was sure to leave many marks on your delicate skin.

“I-” You were cut off by your own moans as Luke’s hands moved to rest on your breasts while his kisses along your neck became harsher. He slowly pulled away from your neck, keeping his hands on your chest.

“What were you gonna say, baby?”

“I.. love you as well.” You replied, breathless. Luke smirked, crashing his lips into yours again.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #charlie bushnell #charlie bushnell x reader #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #pjo series #percy jackson series #x reader #pjo show #percy jackson show

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waitingonher · 3 months

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NIGHTS LIKE THESE — [hoo boys drabbles]

summary: how they react to your bad dreams.

author's note: i wrote leo's + jason's part imagining that the cabins/barracks have individual rooms sooo...also ik this trope is so ran through in the pjo fandom but it's just toooo good i couldn't help myself

percy jackson

percy has always been the type of person to pick up the phone no matter the time. even as he’s on a lone movie marathon and the scene reaches its long-anticipated climax, he’s reaching for his buzzing phone that’s lost beneath the sheets. having found it after the third ring, percy checks the time and the caller id. why are you calling him so late? he answers, “hi babe. i thought you had to wake up early this morning, why are you awake?”

“hi percy,” your voice was shaky and congested, as if you’d been crying. percy immediately sits up, alarmed at the state of your voice, “did i wake you up?”

“no, no, i was up watching movies. what’s wrong? is everything okay?” he’s seated at the edge of his bed now, anxiously awaiting your response.

you force him to sit in silence as you think of an excuse, “yeah, um…i’m okay. i just wanted to hear your voice. but i’ll see you on thursday, okay? goodni-”

“(y/n), what’s going on?” percy runs a hand through his hair as he heads out of his room to his kitchen. he rips off a napkin from the roll and snatches a pen from the drawer. on the napkin, he writes a brief message to sally, saying that he’d be over at your place and not to worry.

“nothing. i’m fine, percy,” you mutter. but your boyfriend knows you too well. the way your voice quivers makes it sound as though you were trying to convince yourself that everything was okay, and you were failing miserably.

percy places his phone between his ear and shoulder as he ties his shoes, “don’t leave me in the dark, (y/n).”

“don’t worry about me. i’m fine it was just-”

“babe, i’m coming over, okay?” and with that, percy hangs up.

he’s walked this path over a hundred times, usually for dropping you off after dates or simply for hanging out with you. but this time, all percy can think about is how you sounded over the phone and that he needs to seriously pick up the pace.

upon arrival, percy climbs up the fire escape ladder as quickly and quietly as possible. it’s only now that he’s grateful for his experience from all of those laborious quests. reaching your floor, he knocks delicately on the glass.

“percy, what are you doing here?” you ask after he closes your window, “i’m sorry, you really didn’t need to come all this way. it’s like three in the morning and you-”

your boyfriend silences you with a gentle kiss, “i’m okay. it’s you i’m worried about. what’s wrong?”

“it was just a dream.”

“just a dream?”

“yes, it was just a stupid dream.”

percy grabs your shoulders, forcing you to look at him, “(y/n), you’re one of the strongest people i know. so if you were crying over it, then it really must be something.”

you slump on your bed, and percy joins beside you. it's no use hiding it from percy, so with a sigh, you confess, “well, you’re here now. but it just felt so real,” your eyes begin to prick with tears again, “you were laying on the floor…and there was just so much blood, and i tried to stop it—i really did try—but it just kept coming and there was nothing else i could do.”

honestly, percy didn’t know what to say. but he did know that if your dream was anything like the ones he had about you, they were emotionally and physically crushing. so, he decides that if he can’t say anything, he’d rather show you. percy gently guides your body, until the both of you are laying down. with a strong arm wrapped around your figure and the other rubbing slow circles on your back, he can only hope you understand the message he’s trying to convey.

“i’m here, (y/n). everything’s going to be okay,” percy continues to whisper sweet nothings into your ear. slowly but surely, your crying mellows into only soft sniffles.

as you lay on his chest, you can feel the rise and fall of his breathing body. it wasn’t at all like that dream of yours; his cold body eerily still on the floor. not at all like that. you allow yourself to slowly drift off with the rise and fall of his chest, strangely as if it were its own lullaby, “thank you, percy,” you manage to whisper.

“i love you, (y/n). i’m not leaving you, ever. i promise,” percy whispers back.

leo valdez

leo’s used to waking up several times in the middle of the night. considering the demigod dreams, he hasn’t remembered the last time he’s gotten a full night's rest, which is why he’s not surprised to be awake at the crisp hour of two a.m. he can’t even remember the dream this time, but leo bets it was another dream foreseeing his imminent death or the end of the world.

as he stares at the pipes and wires running along the ceiling of bunker 9, a familiar ringtone sounds from his phone. leo quickly wipes the sleep from his eyes and picks up the phone from his nightstand, “(y/n)? are you okay? it’s so late.”

there’s a silence, followed up by quiet sniffles. were you crying? “hi leo, i’m sorry i probably woke you up didn’t i? go back to sleep, i was-”

“no i was already awake, what’s wrong?” the moment your boyfriend noticed your shaky voice, his attitude completely changed. suddenly awake and full of energy, he tears off his blanket and reaches for his hoodie and shoes.

considering the fact that you never really call so late alarms him. you calling either meant that you had a nightmare or you were hurt…and leo prayed it was the dream.

“i’m sorry…” you take a deep breath, “i just had a bad dream, like one of those dreams, you know?” leo knows all too well what you’re talking about, and if it’s anything close to the dreams he has, he can only imagine what you’re feeling, “but i swear i’m okay now. i’ll see you later?”

but leo’s already out the door as you finish your explanation, “i’m coming over, stay there.”

“wait leo-”

he hung up.

the trek through the forest was usually something one would avoid, especially at this hour, but leo couldn't give less of a shit as he thinks about you crying in your room. a few minutes later after practically sprinting to your cabin, he arrives. locating the window to your room was easy, he’d done this several times before for your sleepovers. leo knocks as quietly as he can on the glass, hoping he doesn’t disturb any of your other siblings.

surprised, you pull your curtain aside and are face to face with none other than your boyfriend. he looks sweaty and out of breath. leo ran all this way? pushing your question to the side, you rush to open the window and let him in.

for the first time, leo really gets a good look at you. your eyes are red and puffy; you look at him with such desperation and he can’t help but pull you into a rib-cracking hug.

“you actually came.”

“what? of course i did, (y/n),” he takes your face into his hands, rubbing soft circles on each cheek. suddenly, tears begin to flow freely down your face. was it something he said? was he not supposed to come?

you pick up on his confusion, “i’m sorry, i’m just…glad you’re alive,” leo sits you on your bed, and continues to wipe away the tears, his concern growing with each passing second. your boyfriend urges you to go on, “it’s just the same thing every night. i’m at your grave on the hill, and i’m all alone and it’s raining and i just-”

“(y/n), breathe,” leo pulls you into his chest once more. he holds you so impossibly tight, ensuring that you know he’s there and he doesn’t plan to ever leave. his sacrifice during the final battle against gaia will forever be amongst one of leo’s biggest regrets. not because he had saved the world, but because of how hard it impacted you. without a doubt, you could easily say that those months where leo was gone were the hardest times of your life. and not a day goes by where leo thinks he can ever forgive himself for it, “i’m here. i’m alive.”

you nod, your sobs turning into quiet hiccups. leo moves the two of you guys to be laying down, and as final reassurance, he gently guides your hand under his hoodie, allowing you to feel his steady heartbeat. your boyfriend’s skin is warm to the touch and you count his heartbeat…one…two…three. and that was proof enough, “you’re alive.”

“i am,” leo soothes. he places a gentle kiss atop your head and pulls the covers over your bodies. his arms wrap tightly around your figure, holding you close, “sleep, (y/n). i’ll be here in the morning.”

jason grace

it’s late nights like these that jason has slowly come to appreciate. these scarce nights where he’s completed his praetor duties for the night and he allows himself to indulge in some self-care, which usually consists of a cup of hot herbal tea and a good book.

usually, jason prefers historical books, oftentimes concerning roman myths or the occasional diary of some war general. what can he say? he likes to be all-knowing when it comes to these things. but this time, as he’s curled up in his bed, he reaches for the book that you had recommended to him: a classic romance novel. jason laughs to himself as he recalls you teasing him about his taste in literature. if he remembers correctly, you called him a “history-loving freak?”

just as jason’s about to open the book, an unexpected ringing sounds from his phone. he huffs, momentarily disapointed. that is, until he sees who’s calling, “(y/n)? hi, are you okay?”

“oh, hi,” jason noticed the way your voice sounded off, like you’d been crying, “i didn’t think you’d actually answer.”

confused, he puts the book back on his nightstand, “of course i would, my love. what’s going on? you sound like you’ve been crying.”

“no, everything’s okay i just…” you pause, “had a bad dream, so i wanted to listen to your voicemail.”

jason’s heart squeezes at the thought of you going so far as to listen to his own ten second voicemail as a method of comfort. but the feeling goes away just as quickly as it came upon hearing you had a nightmare, “oh i’m sorry, my love. do you want me to come over?”

“no,” you reply, “it’s okay. i’m better now that i’ve heard your voice. you can go back to bed, jason.”

despite you declining his offer, jason’s already up and putting his shoes on, “i’ll be there in a few, okay? i love you,” and he hangs up.

within a handful of minutes, jason reaches your cohort’s barracks. the square windows look impossibly similar, but it’s all thanks to practice that he recognizes yours. even as praetor, he still has to enforce the rules and sneak around. with a quiet knock on your window, he waits in the dark for you.

“you’re here. you’re alive, jason,” is all you can muster up as your boyfriend stands tall inside your room. his expression is clearly written with worry as he closes the gap between you with a hug. as hard as you tried to fight it, the tears came again in a fresh wave.

“yeah, i’m here, (y/n). i’m not leaving,” he replies, concern laced in his words. jason notices your tears and gently wipes them away, “c’mere, tell me about your dream,” he beckons, guiding you towards the bed. with a gentle plop, he settles down and opens his arms, inviting you to join him.

settling against jason’s chest, you take a shaky breath as he places kisses on your temple, “i was at your funeral, and you looked so peaceful, like you were sleeping. i just can’t stop thinking about how you looked asleep. and then they expected me to, you know, give a speech in front of the entire camp about you, and i just…i can’t imagine a world without you, so please, you can’t leave me like that.”

“woah, woah, (y/n) i’m okay, breathe,” jason hushes you, rubbing soft circles on your arm. to be frank, he’s pretty shocked about what you had just said. he can’t get over how shaken up you are by this. but jason can’t even blame you, because if it were him who had the dream, he bets he would also be like this, “i’m here and i have no plan of ever leaving, okay? i’m afraid you’re stuck with me for the rest of your life,” he jokes, hoping to get at least a smile from you.

jason’s joke succeeds as he feels your body shake with a quiet giggle, “good. i wouldn’t have it any other way.”

your boyfriend checks your face once more, ensuring that you’ve stopped crying. seeing that you have, he places delicate kisses on each cheek, “hey, how about we go to sleep now? i’ll read you that book,” jason motions to the book on your nightstand, which happens to be the same one you recommended him.

you nod tiredly, “only if you do different voices for each character.”

“of course, only for you,” jason quips.

after adjusting your bodies, jason reaches for the book and opens it to chapter one. but before he begins, he pulls the covers completely over your body and places a chaste kiss on your forehead, “i love you so much, (y/n). and i hope you know that i’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”

#percy jackson #leo valdez #jason grace #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #percy jackson x reader #leo valdez x reader #jason grace x reader #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x you #percy jackson fanfiction #percy jackson imagine #heroes of olympus x y/n #heroes of olympus x reader #leo valdez x y/n #leo valdez x you #jason grace x y/n #jason grace x you #jason grace fluff

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tripleyeeet · 8 months

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BLEED YOU DRY (1)

SUMMARY: When you awake to find Astarion attempting to drink your blood, you find yourself making a interesting decision.

PAIRING: Astarion & Female Reader (reads as Gender Neutral but future chapters will be femme focused, just a heads up!)

WORD COUNT: 3,273

WARNINGS: Bloodsucking, that's about it?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay, so I'm aware I'm way ahead of schedule for this Haunted Hoedown thing but I'm going to be gone for a few days in the middle of it so I figured I'd get a headstart now to make sure I get every day done but also to build the hype? Maybe?

Basically this is going to be a little twelve part miniseries based on prompts from this writing challenge. I'll make a masterpost either tonight or tomorrow with all the ones I chose, plus some other stuff, so you guys know what's going on!

The prompt for this particular day was "I want to watch you bleed."

CHAPTER LIST / MASTERLIST / NEXT CHAPTER

The squirming tadpole behind your eye is what wakes you up. Its constant movement, wriggling from edge to edge quickly prompts you to groan and palm your eye, attempting to suppress the feeling as you blink through the darkness. It takes a moment to adjust —to feel that twitch of the creature die down— and when it does there’s a sigh of satisfaction that leaves your lips.

Despite how long it’s been, you’re not sure you’ll ever get used to the fact that you have a parasite living inside your mind. Even after experiencing the insertion firsthand, you often forget it’s there, looming behind your retinas, awaiting use every time you run into another. Normally it’s so still, barely inching out of place; sitting there, incubating within your thoughts. Tonight though, something’s urging its presence. Keeping it awake as you close your eyes again, scrunching up your face once it moves a second time.

Angrily, you sit up and turn your head, suddenly catching Astarion’s gaze, noticing the open-mouthed grin he offers in response.

“Shit.”

You narrow your eyes, focusing on his teeth. How bared they are; ready to strike at a moment's notice despite the only food lying around being you. “Were you just about to bite me?” you ask and almost immediately he attempts to play it off as if it were nothing, scoffing and rolling his eyes.

“I wasn’t going to hurt you if that’s what you’re insinuating. I was only going for a nibble.”

You can feel your tadpole squirm. He’s telling the truth, albeit for reasons that are more selfish than he lets on. Despite seeming otherwise, he only wants to drink from you for strength —for energy. His desire to kill you is minuscule, lingering in the shadows of his mind for a potentially later day but surprisingly such notions don’t scare you. Astarion may be a bloodthirsty creature but for now, he’s an ally.

“And you didn’t think to just ask first?” You raise a brow at him, watching his expression twist into something bordering between confusion and interest.

“I’m sorry, just ask?” he parrots, exploring your features and how they remain calm despite the context.

He was expecting you to be angry. To throw some kind of fit and deny. It’s what any normal person would do, but considering the circumstances, offering up a little blood to build up the strength of someone on the same side is worth more than the annoyance that forms across your face.

“Yes, like a normal person,” you chastise, taking in the scowl he offers in response.

His brows furrow at the sound of your words, angling upwards to appear as sinister as possible, and you can’t help but snort. Something about his constant disapproval is almost humorous at this point.

“Normal? Darling, I’m a creature of the night. A blood sucking fiend. A—“

“Vampire, yes, we’re all well aware given the teeth.” You poke at your own canine, tapping the enamel with open lips just as he swallows hard and narrows his eyes.

“Yes, well, obviously considering such details I thought it inappropriate to ask. People don’t typically agree to such perilous sounding terms,” he says, voice light and airy. Casual, you might say, despite the context.

“So instead you were just going to go for it?” You raise your brow, a smirk playing across your lips as he rolls his eyes.

“Seemed like the best possible option… at the time.”

You offer him a quiet ah, nodding your head as the two of you remain still, watching each other. Trying to gauge how the other is feeling without the use of your tadpoles.

Based on what you know about Astarion you assume he’s too stubborn to ask. Now that he’s caught, regardless of whether or not he needs the blood, he’ll never find himself in a position to be desperate enough to say those simple little words. Being a man of persuasion, he’ll most likely just talk his way into it —make it seem like the whole thing was your idea in the first place before diving right in.

It’d be respectable if you weren’t the victim. If it were Wyll or Gale and you were to bear witness to his deceptions, you’d fully support it. Encourage it even if he were to ask your opinion.

Since it’s you though, you can’t help but feel a bit frustrated. Astarion and you have never been particularly friendly. Having only been around each other for a few weeks, all you’ve talked about is the Illithid and how you plan to get rid of it —what you’ll do after it’s gone. But even the latter conversations hardly spark specific details. Mostly they’re just brief mentions of wanting to run away. To become hidden after the war is over.

You assume someone’s looking for him based on the way he speaks and carries himself. When you’re on the move he hides within the pack, using you all as a shield while he looks around. Always on high alert, his ears twitch at any foreign sound, his eyes dart to meet the faces of anyone you may come across. At night, he’s always the one to keep watch and over time you’ve come to realize it isn’t just because he doesn’t sleep. It’s because he’s looking for someone.

Even now, as he stands above you, you can see his eyes looking past you to focus on the underbrush. The way they narrow with focus, pushing past your face. He can sense something that you can’t —feel the eyes of some foreign presence staring at the two of you.

You’re tempted to use the tadpole to find out what exactly it is but quickly refrain once you hear the shuffling of branches behind you followed by Astarion’s breath of relief.

“You alright?”

His eyes shut for a split second. His chest heaves a single breath and in that moment you’re struck with an odd sense of sympathy. The feeling of pity laces throughout your thoughts as you imagine Astarion’s life before all of this. You imagine it isn’t great. Considering he’s a vampire, there’s probably at least an inkling of trauma there after living, dying and coming back as something other than yourself. No sane person would be the same after that, especially when taking into account all the symptoms. Before his transition, he could do mundane things. Enjoy the pleasantries of life like the sun and sleeping and food.

Nowadays, all it seems he craves is blood and power. Flesh of whatever he can get his greedy little hands on. The upper hand in any possible argument. Both make what Astarion is on the surface, but looking at him now, wondering what else lies behind that thick, defensive coat of first impressions, you know there are other things. Nicer ones he refuses to showcase.

They’re the details of his life before everything. Traits reserved only for himself, and for some uncharacteristic reason, you’re tempted to find out what they are.

“If you need to…” Trailing off, you feel your stomach twist at the realization of what you’re about to offer. The consequences are high, maybe even too high, but perhaps the benefits could be deemed higher. At this point, you’re certain no one else will give him what he needs. They’re all too noble or guarded to allow Astarion, regardless of his current allegiance, to drink.

They don’t trust him. And even though you find yourself in the same boat, feeling the skepticism of your words start to echo in the back of your mind, you know it’s the most logical thing to do. Sure, it may not be the right one. By a long shot, it’s probably one of the worst ideas you’ve ever had, but you know deep down that it’s necessary for your survival. To ensure that, when all this blows over and the potential of you going your separate ways occurs, Astarion doesn’t view you as an enemy.

“If you need to drink, you can.”

His eyes widen only a bit. Just enough for you to notice the slight shock that spreads across his features. “I can?”

There’s a reluctance you feel begin to bubble up but instead of acting on it you merely shut it down, nodding your head. “Yes, but only a little. Don’t want you bleeding me dry before this whole thing is all over.”

Somehow that makes him laugh. “Oh, darling, I wouldn’t dream of such a thing.”

You force yourself not to smirk as he lies through his teeth. Knowing him, he’d suck you dry if it weren’t for the fact that there’s safety in numbers. “Unfortunately for me this isn’t a dream.”

“Fair point,” he replies, taking a short step forward. After that he slowly begins to crouch towards the ground, watching you closely —focusing on the rise and fall of your chest as his face falls mere inches from yours. “For now though, I promise to do no such thing.”

“And you’re certain you’ll keep it?”

He hums, a grin pulling at his cheeks. “For now,” he muses. “In the future though…”

He’s so close you can feel his breath. Hot and heavy puffs pushed through a low, far too sultry tone of voice that has you pressing your lips together in a thin line.

Out of everyone, Astarion’s always been the most intriguing. The one you’ve had this constant back and forth with, debating whether or not to approach or run. Aside from the obvious vampirism, it’s quite obvious that he isn’t like the others. From what you’ve been able to piece together, he doesn’t have a cause. A God or some sort of leader he’s willing to lay down the law for. He’s not noble like Wyll or faithful like Shadowheart. He’s just Astarion. A bloodied wolf all by his lonesome, following the rest of the pack.

You’re sure he has desires like the rest of them. Wants and needs that’ll inevitably be gifted to him at the end of this —so long as you all survive. Like everyone else, he has a purpose in mind, but what that purpose is is unbeknownst to you thanks to the charm he offers in replacement of the truth. Because of this, he feels almost like a treasure chest. A trove of untold riches kneeling before you, tempting you to open.

“I’m sure the future will have us far enough away from each other where that doesn’t happen, so I won’t worry.”

Almost immediately, he can tell you’re fishing for information. The way his brow slightly upturns and the flirtatious grin across his face transitions into more of a smirk. It makes you internally curse, knowing that no matter how hard you try you’ll never beat him at his own game. His way with words is too precise. Too calculated, even for someone like you who grew up convincing people of your lies.

“You never know. Perhaps after this is all over I’ll follow you. Linger amongst the shadows until the time is right.”

You can’t tell if he’s kidding. His voice is too convincing to be completely certain, so you merely roll your eyes. “Yes, well, if you do decide to drink me to death, be sure to make it quick.”

He clicks his tongue, leaning slightly further in. “What would be the fun in that though?”

There’s an unfamiliar ache inside your chest. A rupture of pain that wreaks havoc against your ribcage, pounding. Now that he’s close to you, you can assume it’s always been there but because he’s so good at posing a distraction you weren’t fully aware of it until now.

“Fair point,” you repeat his words back to him, deeply inhaling just as the tadpole suddenly shifts in tandem with your chest. Ebbing and flowing across your inner eye in time with your shaky breath, you notice Astarion pick up on it, humming knowingly.

“You fear me, don’t you?”

Despite the answer being blatantly obvious, your lips remained sealed. Closed off, regardless of the truths the rest of your body spills.

“It’s quite alright, darling. It’s normal. Creatures of the night are hardly meant to be trifled with.”

He’s in your face now, a mere hair’s length away, once again baring his teeth. Against your lips, you can feel the movement of his words pushing through the air, coating you in further reluctance as the withheld breath inside you finally releases. As it hits his face, he blinks and pulls away. Ever so slightly giving you the space you need to recollect your thoughts and swallow back the fear.

He’s terrifying. Even you have to admit that. Unlike Lae’zel he’s more calculated in his intimidation, opting to pull you in —to make you feel comfortable— before he ultimately strikes. Because of this, his threats feel more authentic. Less like simple tactics used to get you to back off. They aren’t words of warning —they’re promises. Declarations of a moment he’s more than willing to make a reality if given the chance.

“Do you want my blood or not, Astarion?”

Your patience is thin. Your chest is in pain and while the tadpole inside unwittingly reaches out to his, driving you both closer as he instructs you to lie back down and get comfortable, all you can feel is temptation. Desire.

Upon resting your head, you feel the connection between you grow stronger. Inside, your head flashes with icy sensations that trickle down towards your neck. Small tremors of what’s to come as Astarion positions himself around you.

When he leans down, there’s a moment where you think of retracting. This is all too sudden, you think. A mistake made in hopes of gaining the upper hand. Just moments ago you were made unaware of the full potential of Astarion’s charms, but now that you’re lying beneath him, awaiting the moment he sinks his teeth into your flesh, you can feel the regret begin to build.

“It won’t last.”

Pulling yourself from your thoughts, you look to see him staring over top of you. Both of his arms are planted on either side of your head, bending at the elbow so that he’s low and close. “I’m sorry?”

“The pain. It won’t last long, I promise.”

Strangely enough, he sounds sincere. Not that that means much when a good portion of the words that exit his lips are lies. Still though, instead of returning to that previous headspace you merely breathe and nod, waiting for the moment the tadpole’s connection vibrates with confirmation and Astarion begins to lean in.

It’s a slow process. Above you, his shoulders shift, pushing his arm to cup the back of your head and expose your neck. Against your skull, Astarion tightens his grip to steady the endless thoughts that race through your mind as you share a glance. It’s small but important. A moment of recognition that tonight is not the night you die at his hand, but merely a preview of what might come if your paths wrongfully cross.

At the last second, you give him a curt nod and feel him dip, running the tip of his tongue along your jugular before the presence of teeth poke holes through your flesh. At first, it's painful. The blood that’s sucked through your veins pulsates through the open wound in stinging waves as you feign a soft groan. Then Astarion’s grip around your head tightens at the sound, pushing you further into his mouth. Further into the euphoria he takes as the feeling transcends into something numbingly cold.

Your eyes flutter shut at his continued feed. The feeling in your hands begins to fade even as you somehow find them moving to Astarion’s back, one of them pressing against his shoulder, the other finding purchase in his locks. At that point, you can feel Astarion moan against you, desperation filling his every cell as his teeth shift further into your neck, prompting your eyes to shoot open.

He’s going to kill you at this rate. To drink you drier than an insect's husk, so, through half-conscious pushes, you tell him to stop. To let go and to keep his promise as you grip the roots of his hair and pull.

As it happens you see his eyes shift to yours. They’re blown out completely, the whites of his eyes stained red to match his ruby pupils. For a moment, they remain locked to your half-lidded ones, honing in on the way they start to flutter again before you see them tightly close. Then he finds himself ripping away and gasping for air. Coughing through the thick blood that coats his tongue as he stares down at your neck.

The wound is only slightly gaping. Two well-defined puncture wounds sit side by side, but at the moment you can’t feel them. Instead, there’s still only numbness. A space of nothing that lingers between your head and chest, making you shift to sit up and place your hand there, finding more blood.

“See? Over before you know it, right?” He laughs but all you do is glare.

“You almost killed me.”

“Ah, yes, but notice the key word being almost.”

If you weren’t so heavy-headed you’d punch him in the throat. Maybe strangle him if you could get the right angle. “Yes, fine, you’ve had your fun. Now, do you need anything else or am I fine to pass out now?”

You expect him to say something else. To make some quip about the safety measures of post-bloodsucking, but he doesn’t. Instead, he merely inches closer, staring at you as he reaches for your bloodied hand and pulls it close.

Once again, your tadpole wriggles against your will. Throughout your skull, it practically dances as Astarion glances down, taking two of your fingers into his mouth with careful precision. If anyone were to see they’d most likely faint at the mere lewdness of it. Frozen in time, your body refuses to move as he laps the blood off your skin, staring at you through hooded eyes that make you want to scream.

You’ve never been in this kind of position before. Sure, you’ve experienced many kinds of intimacy, both sexual and not, but somehow this feels different. Forbidden, in a sense. As if sharing this moment is not only wrong but also against some sort of ethical code.

At first, you wonder if it’s because blood isn’t necessarily something that’s given. Always taken. In battle, it’s ripped from your skin through the means of injury. Punctured or sliced out of you at the hands of a sword. No bond goes along with it. No mutual agreement that any life will remain once the deed is over.

But then you begin to think of Astarion. The elven vampire now infected with the Illithid. Like you, he’s been changed. Subtly shifted into something new. Overall, your transformation isn’t nearly as different as his. Before the infection, you could still enjoy the pleasantries of being human, but still, there’s this connection that draws you towards him. It makes its presence known within the tadpole. Throughout the movements that echo in your minds as Astarion cleans the last of the blood away, looking at you with soft eyes.

“I consider this a gift, you know,” he says, dropping your hand, and moving away to stand without so much as a thought.

You blink back your confusion, trying your best to focus on the genuine-looking smile that appears as he takes a few steps backwards, never breaking eye contact until he telepathically adds I won’t forget it then stalks away.

#astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion fan fic #astarion series #astarion x reader #astarion x you #baldur’s gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 fan fic #bg3 fan fic #haunted hoedown #writing challenge #summer writes

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sturnmaee · 3 months

Text

Bookworm.

summary: getting caught reading smut while having to spend the night with chris.

warnings: reader x chris, no established relationship, smutty smut, unprotected sex (don’t be silly), a little swearing.

requested: yes !!

wordcount: 1,563.

quick little a/n: this took my whole soul to write 😭 i hope it’s okay <33 also to the person who requested this a whole ass month ago i’m so sorry babe 😭😭. and i was half asleep while i proofread this, so im so sorry if theres mistakes xoxooo

i let out a small yawn as i sat around the large wooden table with nick and chris. matt had already said his goodnights and helped packed the cameras away after about an hour and a half of filming content.

"tired already?" nick asked jokingly.

i hummed in response while grabbing my book from the other side of the table. the crisp scent of pages filling my nose as i flicked through them looking for my book mark.

"what a nerd." chris teased while giggling.

"leave her alone," nick said, "we can head up to bed now if you'd like?"

nick and i were close, so of course each night i spent at their house we had sleepovers like little kids again, making dumb jokes and giggling all night.

he shut his laptop and tucked it under his arm as he got up, signaling for me to follow him, in the corner of my eye i watched as chris got up and headed the other direction, down the stairs.

i tiptoed up the stairs following nick, his hands lazily pushing the door open before he sunk down onto his bed, immediately opening his laptop to keep editing. i got straight into reading, i had been dying to finish this chapter, especially because it was one of the more interesting chapters.

about thirty minutes had passed and not a single word was spoken from nick. nothing but frustrated huffs and tossing and turning as he typed away. i shut my book before putting it down onto the silk covers.

"nick i can leave if you'd like, go hang with chris, i'm sure he wouldn't mind?" i quietly said not wanting to ruin his focus.

"really? are you sure, i'm really sorry i'm just so behind in editing." he replied.

"of course," i said while holding my hand onto his, "have a good night." i smiled before walking out of the room quietly, book and phone in hand.

i quietly made my way down both flights of stairs not wanting to wake matt. i stood in front of chris's door, my ear pressed against it, the faint sound of music playing let me know he was still awake. i tapped lightly on the door before opening it and poking my head in. the scent of a coconut candle intertwined with chris's scent filling my nose.

"come in," he said faintly his attention still on his phone before turning his head to see who it was, "oh hey." he said with a smile, patting the spot on the bed next to him inviting me to lay down.

i filled the spot next to him, lying on my stomach before reopening my book. he lied next to me on his back, one hand holding his head up as the other scrolled on his phone.

i looked at my page while trying to contain myself, excited for what was coming. my fingers gripping the cover tighter than before, my teeth lightly biting down on my bottom lip, my legs now squeezed together trying to satisfy the heat growing in between them.

i was so lost in a trance i forgot chris was beside me. he had changed positions and was now facing me, head propped up on one arm, his blue eyes locked onto mine. i felt heat rising in my cheeks before quickly closing my book.

“what?” i asked shyly.

“nothing,” he replied, his voice deeper and raspier than usual, “what’s so good about that book anyways, it’s got you acting like a damn book worm.”

“it’s just interesting, i guess.” i said sheepishly, not mentioning the fact i was reading straight smut with him right next to me.

“let me see.” he said while trying to grab the book. my reflexes instantly pulled it away from him, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

“it’s really boring, trust me you won’t like it.” i said bluntly trying to keep my cool. i turned my gaze away from him to play it off, my book sitting in one hand with one finger inserted to keep my place. before i could react he snatched the book from my hand while giggling, opening to the page i had saved.

“chris-!” i whisper yelled not wanting to disturb the rest of the house, my hands flying over to him. he turned away and held the book out of my reach. his eyes frantically scanning the page as the corners of his swollen pink lips turned up. i turned away from him, burying my face into my hands.

“here's your book back.” he said while trying to wave it at me, my face still turned away from him. “you don't have to be embarrassed you know.”

“are you serious chris!” i replied while turning my body to face him, snatching the book from his hands. “that’s so embarrassing.”

“not really,” he said while taking me in with his eyes, “i see why you’re so interested in that book now.” he continued while licking his lips slightly.

i found it hard to keep my gaze locked with his, my core still throbbing, a wetness coating me. his lips parted while his chest rose and fell.

“what do you mean?” i asked innocently, placing the book on the bedside table before propping my head up on one arm to match his position.

his eyes fell from mine, moving to my body, taking me in. his hand placing itself on my side exposed by the short top that hugged my skin, i felt myself shudder beneath his touch as he stroked me lightly. his finger hooked around my waistband, toying with it, asking for permission almost.

"chris," i whispered, "we can't."

"mm, why not." he replied huskily while still playing with the fabric of my sweats.

"nick might hear." i said while slowly moving his hand from my side, keeping it in mine as i watched his eyes.

"c'mon, you have to be at least a little freaky if you're reading shit like that," he teased, "i've wanted you for so long, don't pretend you havent noticed ma." he continued speaking while watching my lips.

i looked down in defeat before moving my face closer to his, closing the gap in between us. my mouth hovered above his as he breathed lightly coating my lips in a hot air.

before i could say anything his hand gripped my face roughly pulling me into him, his lips showing how hungry he was for my own. he broke the kiss only to move to my neck, leaving harsh bites before soothing them with his tongue. i rushed to take my sweats off, tossing them to the floor leaving me in nothing but a short top and black panties.

"turn over," he said while pulling away, "all fours baby."

i followed his demands and pressed my face into the pillow, facing the side of the room where a large mirror sat, i watched him in the mirror as he pulled his sweats down letting them rest below his thighs, followed by his boxers. his cock sprung out hitting the fabric of his shirt as he causing him to let out a hiss through his teeth. his tip red and needy, leaking with precum.

"try and be quiet." he said while rubbing my lower back with his hands. i hummed in response while still watching him in the mirror as he lazily tugged on his cock before lining it up with my entrance, rubbing it up and down my slit, collecting my arousal before placing his tip into me.

"god you're wet."

he let out a quiet grunt before bottoming out, reaching places i could never on my own. i clenched onto the bedsheets trying to contain my whimpers, my knuckles going white.

quiet moans and curses left his mouth as my ass bounced off his pelvis, the sound of our skin slapping filling the room.

“oh god chris” i moaned, not being able to stay quiet anymore.

“shh baby, don’t wanna get caught now do we?” he gripped my waist as he spoke, pulling me into him harder.

i could feel my slick dripping down my thighs as he picked his pace up, my eyes having no place to go but the back of my head. we both gave up on being quiet a while ago, more whimpers and groans filled the room.

“mmh, s-so close.” i said pathetically while gripping onto the pillow.

with one quick movement he pulled out and flipped me over, his eyes now locked onto mine as he pushed back in.

“i wanna see your pretty face while you cum.” he breathed out.

his thrust becoming harder as i came closer to the edge, the feeling growing at my core as my nails dug into his back for support.

“oh f-fuck.” i whimpered, feeling the waves of pleasure fill me.

his eyes watching my face twist in pleasure, his thrusts getting sloppier.

“s-shit.” he stuttered before snapping his hip into me, his warm cum filling me up as he left a soft kiss on my lips.

both out of breath while he pulled out of my softly, fixing my underwear and his pants.

“why don’t i clean you up?” he said quietly while looking over at the bathroom door.

i nodded in response while kissing him softly, his fingers running through my hair.

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #fanfic #smut #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo imagine #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo

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cometkenji · 7 days

Text

killshot, baby

Pairing: Aaron Hotch x Doctor!Fem!reader Cw: Fluff (for real this time), LONGING (this is literally 9k words of pure yearning idek how I did that), mentions of blood, Hotch gets shot, Jack being adorable, Jack gets injured too :(, no explicit age gap, this is just rlly cute idk it's sweet I love Hotch so much I need him Summary: When you get hired as the BAU's stand-by medic, the team leader ends up being the hardest part of your job. Disclaimer: Reader is chubby! She's always fat coded, but like usual she's not described here. Just know a chubby person was imagined when writing this <3 WC: 9k (Hotch is the love of my life I could go on about him forever) This is definitely not medically accurate, please just enjoy for the sake of the story. I LOVE HOTCH I WANNA SMOOCH HIM

As weird as it was, band aids were the thing you remembered most from your childhood. You grew up as a canvas for any sort of scrape, cut, or bruise. Any wound that made your parents feel mildly worried to utterly terrified were ones that decorated your body frequently. You never tried to assign any meaning to why you became a doctor, simply crediting it as your call to the profession - to people. If you had to, though, your consistently bruised adolescent body is the best root cause you could think of. It seemed only right that the kid who couldn’t keep her skin in tact would grow to love helping others. You liked to think that’s how you kept your head an average size. Your bosses and co-workers had raved about your abilities no matter the job you took, and after a while you had to start prioritizing keeping your humility. You had started as just a kid with bruises.

You tended to ground yourself with those same memories in times like this. For as long as you’d worked in the hospital, you held some disdain for agents. You saw many federal ones, being so close to the HQ for divisions like Behavioral Analysis, but some locals swung by too. You’d had far too many experiences of them being snappy, demanding, and usually inconsiderate to the team of people trying to save someone. You understood the individuals you were committed to helping often got there by doing monstrous things, but demanding to talk to someone when they were bleeding out and half-conscious always forced your tongue between your teeth in an effort to stay respectful. Especially now, pushing a stretcher with 3 other workers while trying to shake off the feds trailing after him. You recognized them, Agents Rossi and Hotchner, if you remembered correctly.

“We’ll need to talk to him immediately.” The man - Rossi, you assumed, seeing as he was going gray and had less of a charge fueling his steps - spoke quickly as the two men followed your team.

“Be here when he’s out of surgery.” You didn’t bother to look back, trying to convey your annoyance and praying they got the hint.

“He’s killed three women and has another one hostage. We don’t have time.” The other one piped up, easily keeping pace with you.

Abandoning your previous strategy, you let your team push the man into the operating room, shutting the door behind them and whipping around to face the duo. “I understand that, sir, believe me.” You were more elevated than you would have liked, years of unease unfortunately slipping through your efforts to withhold them. “But whatever happened when you found him left him barely breathing. You can’t speak to a corpse. You’ll have your time when he’s stable. Go do your job and let me do mine.” You tensed your calves planning to turn around, but quickly felt the guilt catch up to you. “I’ll call you if he wakes up.”

“If?”

You sighed. You hated profilers. “I’ll call you.”

“Call the headquarters.” He was scribbling down a number on the back of a hospital business card. “Ask for Agent Hotch. We’ll be waiting.” You nodded your head once, taking the card from his hands. He started walking away as he thanked you. “We appreciate it.” Sure.

–

The surgery to save the man had been a trip and half. One of the bullets had internally ricocheted, and the other two were lodged next to crucial arteries. You praised your mother for giving you steady hands as you inched them out of him. It took you and your team six hours and fifteen minutes to get his heartbeat steady, you estimated he’d be knocked out all night. You should call, you thought. You had no idea how late these people worked but they were more than likely expecting to talk tonight and you didn’t know if that’d be possible. You fished the card out of your pocket, his handwriting was impressively neat for how fast he’d written the number. You heard the line ring twice before someone picked up.

“This is Penelope Garcia with the Behavioral Analysis Unit, who am I speaking to?”

“Uh- I’m Dr. L/n down at Quantico Med. I’m looking for Agent Hotch?” Your words tilted up at the end of your sentence. The casual nature of his shortened name left a weird feeling in your mouth after you said it. “I have an update on a patient he was asking after.”

“Is this about an unsub?”

“A what?” She lacked professionalism. You wondered briefly if he had just given you the phone number of an employee.

“I’m sorry-” she laughed slightly. “Is this about a suspect? Hotch told me someone might be calling.”

“Um - yeah it’s about a suspect. He was brought in earlier. Is Agent Hotch there? I’m sorry ma’am but I've been in an operating room for the past 6 hours and I want to go home.” You hoped she’d respect your honesty, you really didn’t have the patience to explain yourself to someone new.

She chuckled. “I got you honey, I’ll page you over.” The line went dead for a second before the ringing resumed. Please be quick, you prayed, get me out of this fucking hospital.

“Hotchner.” His voice was rougher over the phone. You guessed the long hours started to weigh on him by this time of night. You always felt it the most around this time, too.

“Hi, sir. This is Dr. L/n from the hospital. We managed to stabilize your guy, but it’s unlikely he’ll be up before tomorrow. I know it was assumed he’d be awake tonight but it took longer to operate than expected.” Your guys put 3 bullets in him, so sorry for the inconvenience. “I’ll be here all day tomorrow. You can come by at any time and I’ll let you in.”

“Are you positive we can’t talk to him tonight? I understand the situation is difficult but this case is extremely time sensitive. I’m sure that’s not lost on you.” You cursed the man for not being more condescending in his delivery. Thinking of the poor person either trapped or dead right now due to the guy you just saved made you sick.

“I know.” Fucking hell. “I can wake him up.” A quarter dose of adrenaline works wonders. “Be here in fifteen minutes. You won’t have much time to talk to him.”

“Thank you.” He hung up. You put your head in your hands. Just a little kid with bruises.

–

The layout of the BAU made you envious of the workers here. You’re sure they’d dealt with atrocities beyond what the average person could stomach, but you also worked within the belly of the beast and man were those hospital hallways claustrophobic. The daylight shone beautifully through the large windows, and you asked yourself if you’d be able to cope with all the paperwork in exchange for a feel like this. There weren’t any front desks, nowhere to sign in, so you sat in one of the chairs by the door and waited to see if something would happen. You had been specifically requested to visit the building , a note signed ‘Strauss’ being left with the hospital secretary. You didn’t like being called on by a stranger, it made you nervous beyond belief. You’re sure anyone walking by assumed you were being charged with something. Sweating like a sinner in church.

“Dr. L/n?” A woman was standing near you, having completely avoided your eyesight until now. “I’m the board supervisor, Erin Strauss. Thank you for coming.” The woman was nice enough, but she seemed rigid, clearly confident in her authority. She led you to her office and gestured to the chair facing her desk.

“I’ll cut right to the chase.” She smoothed her pencil skirt as she sat down. “The BAU is seeking a stand-by medic and I’d like to offer you the position. You’re revered highly by your previous places of employment and your current boss has only good things to say. Along with a personal reference by an employee of mine, you’re certainly a person of interest. You’d be working interchangeably with three other individuals, however you would be the first one called when needed.”

That is definitely not what you were expecting. You were almost immediately ready to turn down the offer. You didn’t work well with cops. You worked well in a hospital, going into the field to patch the wounds of both good and evil was a less than appealing deal to you.

“You’d be on call while you worked your current position at Quantico Medical, when you’re at home you can remain there, but you’ll be flying with the rest of the team when they leave. You will be entered into a federal database, and employed as a stand-in for hospitals near you when working abroad.” She went on to explain you’d be paid salary, and when you heard just how much you could add to your monthly income by doing this, you took it. You were doing fine, you definitely didn’t need the financial boost, but you had family that could use it. Your niece had been close to turning down college because of the cost, so some extra money could really set her up.

“Excellent. You’ll start your field training next Monday.” She was shuffling papers into a hefty stack as she talked. “Come back when you’ve finished this and I’ll arrange a team meeting.” The stack was even heavier than you expected when you picked it up. It was far too early to be regretting your decision.

–

The first day of training had been easy enough. You weren’t an agent, so you avoided having to learn weapons or combat. It generally consisted of learning efficiency, along with how to work properly with agents and the expected etiquette when dealing with an unsub. You had met the team only once by now. Everyone had been nice - Garcia especially - but aside from her nobody had been particularly welcoming. The conditions of your job were a bit strange, basically capitalizing on the what ifs that came with the FBI title, and that created a bit of distance between you and the rest of the team. They questioned the necessity of you, they’d survived this long without a stand-by medic with them, why did they need one now?

Above any disregard for those in law enforcement sat your stubbornness. You knew they were on the fence about you, the most logical thing for you to do now would be attend every session required of you and prove yourself through pure accomplishment. Easy in theory, much harder to execute when Aaron Hotch is the one you’re learning from. He was a good teacher - you’d give him that - he had a confidence to him that easily dominated a room, attracted eyes in a way other men couldn’t manage. You’d ignored the initial stir in your stomach when meeting him in favor of attempting to scold him and his partner. Now, it was much harder to quell the slight pound in your head or the sweat on your palms. He was just standing up front, lecturing on the importance of a team, but his attire was the only thing able to break through the haze in your mind. Every time he’d shown up at the hospital, he’d donned a suit, a slightly baggy blazer worked incredibly well as a shield to your curiosity. That had clearly changed, as he shed the overcoat when talking to the class, having just a white button up adorn his torso. You took notice of the rolled up sleeves, clearing your throat quietly to snap yourself back into focus. You had the intention of snuffing out this little thing of yours but were a living contradiction at this point, setting on the goal of avoidance while barely ignoring the sight of the veins on his arms. You pondered the thought of sleeping with some man at a bar just to get this out of your system, but remembered how little projecting attraction onto someone else helps a situation. In other words, you were probably fucked.

–

The first mission you worked with the team had you flying to a tiny Georgia town to investigate a string of bodies being found in ransacked homes. It seemed to be a simple motive, robbery turned to murder, but the team was called down to help once the kill count hit five. You had been expecting a long commercial flight, figuring you’d need to invest in a good neck pillow and some aspirin. Nobody had bothered to inform you the Bureau utilized private air travel, or that you’d be flying in one with people you’d known for two weeks. You’re sure you looked a little out of place, looking around the plane without being obvious you were doing it and adjusting to the sight of couches on planes. The others, having had this privilege for years now, took their respective seats. You had been nervous about that, unfortunately. The unsure feeling of where to sit reminding you painfully of high school cafeterias and inferior reputations. The only open seat happened to be right next to the man you’d been ducking away from the past two weeks. Lovely. He took a moment to look at you when you sat. You were prepared to talk to him, but for now you busied yourself with rummaging through your bag looking for nothing and pretending not to see him in your peripherals.

“Do you get sick on planes?” He seemed to have a deeper motive when he asked, like you saying yes would solve a puzzle in his head.

“Not really.” You’d only been on a plane a handful of times. “Turbulence can make me nervous, but I think that’s fairly normal.” You thought momentarily that perhaps he would blame your obvious anxiety on that instead of his proximity to you. He was a profiler, you’re sure he picked up on tells for nerves you weren’t even aware you had, but maybe he’d write it off. “Why do you ask?”

“You seem…” He trailed off for a moment, looking over your face to try and categorize your expression. “I don’t know, lost?” He smiled, light and easy, and you realized he was trying to reach out to you. The comfortability in the gesture made your head spin. It was like a shot of morphine, enveloping your body in a dull elation - an escape. You wanted that comfortability, wanted him to feel weightless around you. There had been a certain tension between the two of you since you started. He was warmer than the rest, but also more awkward. Your first real interaction had been an outburst, and it left you hesitant to talk to him.

You chuckled at his remark. “No I -” You shook your head as you spoke, as if shaking off his accusation. “Nobody told me about the jet. You’d think exclusive aircraft would be in the job predecessor.”

He nodded in agreement, holding a slight upturn on his lips. “Yes, you would.” He glances away to check the time, looking back to you quickly like you were his homebase. “Strauss has a habit of getting ahead of herself. Plus, we’re all pretty used to it by now. I have to remind her sometimes that normal provisions don’t have a TI.”

“I’m sure.” It was clear she’d worked with the unit for a while. “Even if they did, though, they’d never find another Garcia.” You thought of the woman, bright and sparkly and incredibly good at her job. “You guys are lucky to have her.”

He stared at you, losing a hint of the lightheartedness and letting a wave of genuinity intertwine with it. “You have her too, Y/n.” His eyes were like a trap, rich pools of honey just begging to tug you down in. “You’re a member of this team. Don’t think your newness makes you inferior to anyone else on it. We’re lucky to have you too.”

Fuck, you were whipped. “I really appreciate that, sir.”

He smiled, shaking his head and waving you off. “Don’t with the sir, please. It’s bad enough when Garcia does it. You can call me Aaron.” Not even the other team members called him that, a thought that seemed to strike you both simultaneously. “Or Hotch, whatever you prefer.”

You just looked at him, letting a smile rouse your lips and trying your hardest not to let the effect he had on you reach your face. “Ok.”

–

The first case had been good training wheels, simply tending to a vic who needed stitches and getting a feel for the life of a field agent. You’d been adjusting nicely to it, quickly getting used to working random hospitals and waiting to be needed on an active crime scene. The others had warmed up to you tremendously after getting back, opening their circle for one more, and you couldn’t be more grateful. A team like this was something you’d wanted for a while, growing more and more unsatisfied with the callous ER workspace by the day. Ironically, there was much more life in jobs dealing with murder. He had also been warming up to you. The two of you hit the status of work-place friends nearly instantly. The endearing encounter on the plane simmered inside you for a while. The memory of it prompting you to keep talking to him, always searching for a fix of the painkiller you’d felt that day.

You weren’t a profiler, but you were unfathomably infatuated, leading you to never miss his tone getting softer with you, or any one of his touches that lingered for just a second too long. It just barely bypassed the line of friendship, but you never lost sight of that linear barrier, so it was incredibly prevalent to you when he breached it. You scoffed at the idea of any reciprocity, brushing off every remark made by a coworker or the one horrific time you heard JJ refer to the two of you as ‘mom and dad.’ This wasn’t a plausible thing. This was a stupid workplace crush that was more of a hindrance than anything. The growing closeness between you and him would have it’s effects properly restrained to the confines of your head, only permitted to express themselves once you were away from the man. It was an odd dynamic, but Aaron wasn’t an obvious guy, so trying to define the edges of you two would only draw attention to the fact you had been looking at all. No thank you.

“Shit.” The team was sitting around the table going over their files. You were mainly there for support, as you were never a part of the lead up to the catch, the chase. You heard Hotch mumble the exclamation under his breath and looked over to see the trouble. He was looking down at his phone, jaw resting between his thumb and pointer finger. You got up and moved to sit next to him, the motion virtually ignored by everyone else as they continued searching for connections.

“Everything ok?” You mumbled to him, trying not to disturb your friends who were nearly nose-deep in their files.

“Yeah.” He sighed. “Jack’s sitter canceled. I wanted to stay here to go over the latest crime scene but I guess I’ll have to raincheck.” The killings of your latest unsub had been increasing. You knew the collective stress that was starting to boil within the team. Him going home would only slow them down, a horrible addition to a killer that was speeding up.

You volunteered your night away before you even got a chance to think about it.

“I can watch him.”

Surprise was apparent in the raise of his eyebrows. “I appreciate it, but I couldn’t ask that of you.

You’re fairly certain you would do anything he asked of you, but the nobility of the man in this case almost made you roll your eyes. “No, please. I offered and I would love to. I’m not helping anyone just sitting here, and you leaving would slow them down. You know what to look for here, I don’t. I don’t want another girl going missing just cause your sitter flaked. I can do it.”

He seemed mildly speechless. “I -” He paused, trying to find the wording he wanted. “I suppose you’re right. I’ll send you the address, if you’re sure.” He looked at you with more adoration than you’d ever had directed at you, so intense your eyes instinctively ducked down. “Thank you, Y/n.” He was so touched by the action it made you slightly sad to think about. Had no one ever helped him? Maybe you were raised weird, this seemed hardly beyond common decency to you.

“What are friends for?” He exhaled a slight laugh in gratuitous agreement, but you saw the glimmer of his eyes dull slightly. The notion surely reflected in your own eyes as the words burned your tongue. Friends.

–

Jack was a delight. A well mannered, clearly well raised kid. Parts of his dad shined so vibrantly in him that you’re sure you’d be able to pick him out of a crowd based on mannerisms alone. Hotch had called Jack’s daycare, verifying your identity and giving you the ok to go pick him up. He seemed quiet on the way home, but rushed to give you a tour of the house, and excitedly led you to his line up of toy trains once you’d entered the place. There was a shift between you and Hotch that happened when you gave the offer. A shift that was now only just settling in you. This was his house. His space, his stuff, his place of security. He’d invited you into it, gave you permission to enter it, to exist within it, and it was strangely intoxicating. He was intoxicating, and you realized quickly how much you ached for the permanence of it. You’d made Jack dinner, played for a bit, went out for ice cream per his pleading, and wished him a peaceful goodnight when his bedtime rolled around. He’d dubbed you his ‘best babysitter ever’ and you knew as soon as the words hit your ears that you’d be watching him again. You’re sure situations like today popped up frequently for Hotch, you could be a valuable asset to him when you had free time. He would be saving money too. No need to pay a sitter when you were being paid by the Bureau every second you were there. Aaron had gotten home a few minutes past one, utterly exhausted and uncharacteristically apologetic. He was sorry for being gone so long, making you stay so late, everything and anything the man could apologize for was pouring out of his mouth. He’d welcomed you to stay, but his hair was messy from messing with it all night, and he’d ditched the suit jacket for a gray long sleeve. You’d wanted to take the opportunity, wanted to bask in the safety of him for as long as he’d allow it, but those restrained thoughts were clawing the walls of your skull with a vigor unlike anything you’d felt before. It would be abhorrent to dream about the man while in the confines of his home. You couldn’t do that - you wouldn’t. You brushed off any apology he could conjure and let him escort you out the door. His hand was on your lower back, and his voice was low from the siphoning nature of the day.

“Thank you, again.” He looked at you. “You’re a lifesaver.” You’d expected to hear some humor in his voice. The start of banter between friends, a casual appreciation for a job well done, but there wasn’t any. He sounded rough, slightly beat down, his eyes filled with a sincerity all aimed at you. A blend of pure adoration and a deeper level of dedication. Was this a commitment? What kind?

Heat bubbled in your stomach as you made eye contact. “Please.” You shook your head slightly. “Jack’s an angel. You’re clearly as good at this as you are profiling.” You nodded in the vague direction of Jack’s bedroom as you referenced the kid. “It was my pleasure. I’d love to do it again, if you’ll let me.”

He sighed out a small laugh and broke your gaze for a moment, looking back to you as he spoke. “I’d like that.”

–

You’d seen Jack a multitude of times after that. Aaron was never particularly fond of asking you, claiming that he appreciated the gesture but it was mainly Jack’s begging that made him cave. That, and your persistence. You liked Jack a lot, and more selfishly, you liked being around Aaron’s stuff. It was a little creepy, yes, but you felt better acquainted with him after being around his things. An energetic type of understanding, the type that deepened a connection without words. He was needed late tonight, and as much as you hated denying an offer to see Jack, you had priorities at the hospital. The previous sitter wasn’t able to watch him, so she gave a personal recommendation, and Jack got stuck with a stranger. You thought about him while working, probing and patching people half-focused with the desire to be elsewhere. You’d felt mildly guilty about it, but it’s not like it altered your work, so you figured it was harmless.

You wondered slightly if you manifested the event you were watching play out. You watched in pure disbelief as a sobbing Jack was being carried into the ER by a flustered blonde woman. There was blood staining the right sleeve of his shirt, pouring out of his skin in a surplus and completely soaking through the material. A jagged piece of glass was standing at attention in his wrist, having sliced through the fabric like butter. He was marked ‘urgent,’ who knows if the shard had hit an artery or where the glass had come from.

Most other doctors were busy, either operating or tending to patients. You’d walked to the front desk, remaining as calm as your racing heart would let you, and told the secretary to assign the case to you. “I know this one. Let me take him.” She just nodded, marking your name down as the primary doctor and allowing you to take him back.

Walking up to the blonde woman, you assumed this had been the new babysitter. She was a wreck, trying to explain what happened through her own hysteria while simultaneously having her words drowned out by the crying child. “It’s ok, ma’am.” You’d reassured her, obviously she hadn’t intended the injury. “Let me take him, I’m a friend of his father.” You saw the calmness dilate her eyes, making itself apparent in the relaxation of her tense shoulders. You removed the bleeding boy from her arms, holding him against you and cooing at him the way you would a baby. You took him to a stretcher a few feet away and laid him down, ensuring his wounded arm stayed flat in an attempt to slow the blood. He was on the brink of passing out, his body not having nearly enough energy for the sobbing on top of losing vital fluid. “Jack.” You addressed him directly, two more doctors aiding your transfer to an examination room. “I need you to stay with me, buddy. Just a little longer, I promise. You’re gonna be just fine.” You pushed with one hand, caressing his non-injured arm to emphasize your affection. “Just a little longer.” You looked at him in between looking forward to keep the stretcher straight, seeing that same adoration from his father’s eyes mirrored in his. You felt protective, realizing you cared for the Hotchners much more than you let yourself believe. Little kid with bruises, you skimmed through your origins in your mind in an attempt to center your focus. Just a little kid with bruises.

Two hours later, Jack was stitched up and sleeping soundly. You knew his sitter had called Hotch, probably as soon as something happened, and were not surprised to find him idle in a waiting room chair. He was leaned forward, head in his hands and knee bouncing violently. He heard footsteps getting closer, a feeling within him recognizing them as yours, and he looked up. His eyes were teary, tired. The look of a concerned father.

“How is he?” You’d never witnessed this type of worry in him, heard the amount of desperation in his voice.

You smiled lightly as a predecessor to Jack’s wellbeing. “He’s fine. Glass missed his arteries. We had him patched up in around an hour and a half. Gave him a lollipop and a light sedative to get him to rest. He should be all set to go in the morning.”

He sighed, and the amount of stress that audibly left his body made you feel a little lighter from where you stood. “Thank God.”

“Hey man, give us a little credit.” You joked, relieved when you heard the slight laugh come from his downturned head. Pity laugh, probably, but it was a cherished sound nonetheless.

“You have full credit, Y/n.” He shook his head, raising it to look at you. “Quite the hero.”

You almost physically recoiled from the term, rushing to correct him while maintaining the lighthearted nature. “Definitely not.” You rejected the praise. “Just doing my job. I’m glad I could help him.”

He leaned back in his chair, relaxing for a second before he planned to stand up. “Noble.” He chuckled. “But you helped my son. That’s about as heroic as it gets to me, doc.”

Blood rushed to your ears at your professional title being used so affectionately. “Go check on your kid, Hotch.” You waved back towards the direction of Jack, knowing that even though he was asleep, he’d want to see him anyway. You also hoped the slight distraction would draw his attention away from your increasingly flustered state. “You’ll have plenty of time to praise me.” You weren’t entirely sure you’d wanted the sentence to exit your mouth, but it was too late to bite your tongue.

He raised his eyebrows so slightly that you scolded yourself for having noticed. Such a minuscule action that seemed to move mountains within your brain. “Oh?”

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes at your own remark. “I’m walking away. You know what I meant.”

“Mhm.” He smiled, nodding his head dramatically and rising from his seat. “Just name a time and place, doc. I’ll do good on that promise.”

You went momentarily braindead, hoping your eyes weren’t giving away the less than work appropriate feeling pumping through your veins. You stared baffled at him for what was definitely a millisecond too long before giving a half-shocked, half-flattered laugh and gesturing him away. “Say that when you’re not obviously sleep deprived and delirious and maybe we can arrange it.” The last thing you heard was him, laughing the way you do when you’re very serious but desperately trying to pass it off as a joke. You knew it well, having done it almost every time you were around him since you started. Comfortable, witty retorts between friends. “Have a good night, Aaron.”

Aaron, he thought. He’d remember that.

–

That had been the second shift between the two of you. Felt immediately by both parties and tossing you both into the deep end of whatever you’d been building with him. He’d been much more touchy, seemingly subconscious on his part but noticed by every part of your body, mind, and soul. You thought about what it could mean, then sunk even further into your incoherent mind when realizing just how subconscious the actions really were. He was just drawn to you. You had viscerally fought that conclusion as it came to you but it genuinely could not be anything else. He was touching you more because - whether on the surface or deeper down - he just wanted to, and that fact was wrecking you. You were so fucking into him that it hurt. Hurt to look at him or be in his home watching Jack or have his knee pressed against yours in the back of car during a team outing. It all hurt because he wasn’t yours. He seemed into you, too. Of course, you didn’t know to what extent. You worried maybe he hadn’t said anything yet because he simply didn’t like you enough, and that hurt more than any other factor. It was a foolish notion - one you would have abandoned instantly had you peeked inside his head - but alas, no such luck.

He’d been more relaxed, too. The two of you reaching a point in your relationship you hadn’t ever let yourself dream about. He was funny, achieving that lightness around you that you’d wanted from the start. He’d gotten riskier, amping up the dial on his remarks a bit. Starting with those like the hospital, ending with ones that made you have to take a breather in the room where they kept the coffee. It hadn’t gone unnoticed, per say, but the others were certainly ignorant to the true depth of the change. You simply couldn’t measure it by witnessing, you had to feel it. And fuck were you feeling it.

A week or so after Jack’s ER visit, you’d asked after him. You didn’t know if the regret was immediate, but it flooded through you quickly. Aaron got nervous, shifty, like you’d touched a live wire of his and he now had to patch it up before it blew. You got concerned, asking if something happened with his stitches or if Jack was now showing some sort of trauma response to the event. Was that even plausible? You weren’t sure, PTSD wasn’t exactly your strong suit. However, he quickly stated that wasn’t the case, noting that Jack was actually in perfect health and had been relentless about wanting you over for dinner.

“He’s grateful.” Hotch was smiling with paternal reluctance, proud of his son for having such good morals but also uncomfortable with the possibility of rejection he was facing. “He wants to see you, say thank you for “saving his life.” He emphasized the last bit in a sarcastic tone, both of you knowing his life hadn’t been in danger but also knowing that fact wouldn’t deter the boy from considering you some type of guardian angel. “Would you be up for it?” If you hadn’t been so focused on snuffing out the heat rushing to your face, you would have seen that same heat reflected in a slight pink across his cheeks.

“Definitely.” You smiled at the thought of the boy bugging his dad about getting you to the house. “When were you thinking?”

“Saturday night?” Both of you were scheduled to be off that day, and you found yourself begging whatever merciful being would listen to not have some lead to chase that day. “He’ll want the day to prepare.” He chuckled.

“Oh no.” You joked. Prepare? You couldn’t even begin to imagine what that meant. “Well, I am extremely curious to find out what an eight year old boy has to prepare for. How about seven? Would that be good?”

Aaron felt his palms start to sweat. He’d never actually been around his house when you’d been there, only seeing you on your way out. “That’s perfect.”

“Great.” You smiled, checking the time and realizing you needed to get going to the hospital. “I’m looking forward to it.” You nodded slightly as one last confirmation and headed out, suppressing a giddy smile while trying to force yourself into a headspace you could work in.

In the meantime, Aaron watched you walk off from where he’d been perched on your desk, entirely oblivious to the man watching the scene.

“As I live and breathe.” Rossi had crept up on him, not spooking him but rather suspending him in a state of immeasurable embarrassment. “Aaron Hotcher has a crush.” The man held his shoulder, patting him there like a father witnessing his son get his first girlfriend. “She’s a good one. Quite the eye you got, Aaron.” Then he was gone, walking away with Aaron’s dignity clasped in his hands. Closing his eyes in pure mortification, Hotch simply thanked God that nobody else was around for that and walked away with the intention of fusing to his office chair to avoid ever looking at Rossi again. At least you’d said yes, he thought. He didn’t know how he’d cope with his friend watching him swing and miss.

–

The daylight seemed to be anticipating this more than you were, hours passing by like minutes until eventually the sun woke you up on Saturday morning. It was blazing through the cracks in your blinds, settling in slim lines across your floor, as light and gentle as snow. You’d been rehearsing your poker face in preparation for tonight. Writing safety manuals for any ungodly situation that could happen, everything from a fire to Aaron gaining the ability to read your mind and unearthing what you really thought about him. You were so happy that Jack held you in such high esteem, but your hands were shaking at the thought of sitting down with him and his father and acting like it wasn’t the dynamic you fucking dreamt about. You knew it was a good sign of compatibility if someone’s cat liked you - did their child liking you mean the same thing? You hoped Jack’s seemingly innate approval of you gave you at least a couple brownie points. Aaron had called you a hero. Swiftly ignoring the memory of what he’d said after he called you a hero, you pulled out your phone. You and him didn’t really speak outside of work and babysitting schedules, but you were pacing around your room and needed something to give you a semblance of structure, a reassurance - even if it was just for the time. You texted, asking if you were still on for tonight, then went to go make breakfast and inevitably pace some more. He’d gotten back to you about twenty minutes later, confirming the time and giving details of how excited Jack was about it. You smiled at that, praying tonight would be as smooth as humanly possible and you could walk away with an ounce of emotional control. You set an intention, this wouldn’t deepen your feelings for Aaron. Was it a pointless goal? Yes. Was it also highly unlikely to prove true? Yes. But the loose plan you worked around the resolution almost completely extinguished the anxiety that had been blazing for hours now. It would be fine, you thought. Completely and utterly fine.

The same words were looping through your thoughts when you got to his front door. Casual - but still minorly more dressed up than he’d seen you. You’d put a little extra effort into your appearance, mainly to pass the time if you were honest, and you walked in with mild confidence fueling your steps. You did your best not to ogle him, he was in an attire that was already threatening to unravel the safety net of the goal you set. You were used to the suits hidden beneath blazers you cursed the existence of, maybe a snippet of his forearms when he rolled up his sleeves late at night. Now, though, he sported a simple black tee, more comfortable than you’d ever seen him. Domesticity was practically oozing from the entire situation. You felt the pieces slip into place as Jack ran up behind him, and you almost cried with how badly you wanted this feeling to be your normal.

“Hey, buddy.” You laughed as he hugged you, reciprocating the act as well as you could from the multiple feet you had on his height. “How’s the arm?”

He raised up his wrist, now gauze free and proudly showed off the scar there. You played up the genuine admiration you felt for him. “That’s a pretty gnarly scar.” He nodded in response, probably feeling cool for the evidence he handled such an injury. “I don’t want to see you back in my operating room, you hear me? Scared the life out of us.” The scolding was playful, and he giggled at your words.

Aaron huffed in agreement, cocking his head to the side slightly. “You can say that again.” Jack looked between you two, smiling and seemingly thinking something neither of you could decipher. To break the moment of silence, Aaron patted his shoulder. “Why don’t you tell her what’s on the menu, buddy?”

He told you, and you hummed along to his words, commenting that it sounded delicious and actually meaning it. He ran away a second later - presumably back to whatever he’d been doing before you got there - and left you and Aaron alone. Venturing into the kitchen, you saw multiple pans and pots sitting neatly on the stove, table set and ready to be utilized. Everything was being kept warm, and you finally gained an appetite after having wrestled with nerves all day.

“Do you want a drink?” He asked it while entering the kitchen, pausing to look at you.

“Please.” You were desperate to calm yourself, eager to subdue the shaking of your hands. “Do you have any wine?” You weren’t the biggest fan, but you couldn’t think of a drink more fitting for the evening.

He nodded slightly. “Red or white?”

“White.”

He chuckled. “Thought so.” It was quiet, more to himself than you as he was already walking away from you when he said it. He’d thought about what kind of wine you liked, you thought. He’d thought about you. He pulled two wine glasses down from the cupboard, then walked over to the fridge. He reached above it, barely having to stretch, and pulled an uncorked bottle from the storage up there. You felt your legs tense looking at how tall he was, how sure he was of his actions. Jesus. It’s been five minutes and you were crumbling. You watched his hands as he uncorked the bottle, reading the label and realizing the brand.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Seems a little fancy for a dinner.”

He laughed under his breath as he finished pouring the glasses, walking back over to sit next to you on the island stools. “You’re a guest of honor.” He placed yours in front of you. “I thought it was fitting.”

You searched, but couldn’t find the humor in his tone. You raised your eyebrows slightly. “Am I?” It was sarcastic, you needed to stop the heat in your stomach from spreading. “I didn’t know doing your job earned such a title.”

He was drinking as you spoke, finishing his sip before joking back. “You’re a doctor.” He said. “I thought you knew that better than anyone.”

You sucked air through your teeth as if wounded by his words. “Touche.” You took a sip of your drink, relishing the taste. Damn, he didn’t come to play. He laughed, and you set your glass back down. “Ok, I have to know.” He drew his attention to you. “What the hell did Jack need the day to prepare for?” The question had been on your mind since he asked you.

He took a drink, chuckling with a mouthful then swallowing so he could reply. “He actually helped cook most of this.” He nodded towards the stove full of different dishes. “That was what he needed the day for. Time for trial and error.”

You grinned at the thought of Jack and Aaron spending the day in aprons, making sure everything turned out perfect. “That is the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.”

He looked back towards Jack, coloring in the living room, close enough to see but far enough to miss your discussions. “He gets nervous around you.”

That surprised you. “Why on Earth would he be nervous around me?” You took your turn looking at the boy, an idea hitting you and making you feel sick. “Wait, I didn’t do something did I?”

He looked back at you, smiling. “No, no. Nothing like that. He gets nervous because he likes you. He knows who you are to me, too, so he wants to make a good impression.”

Your mind latched onto that sentence and played it like a broken record, bouncing between your ears over and over. “Oh?” Your lips were curling up at the corners, eyebrows furrowing as you got ready to hold him to that statement. “And who might I be to you, Aaron?”

Fuck. He’d let that slip past his lips without even thinking about it. So used to being in the confidential company of his son. Good thing he used to be a lawyer and could lie his ass off. “Most of his sitters aren’t also my coworkers.” He delivered it the smoothest way he could, smiling and drinking to hopefully exude a false comfortability that he certainly wasn’t feeling.

“Mhm.” You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to look sarcastic but in truth downplaying the sting you felt. What if this had been one-sided all along? You hadn’t prepped a safety guide for that.

Luckily, Jack came sprinting into the kitchen a second later, pleading with his father to eat now. Clinging to his leg and declaring how hunger was killing him by the second, dramatically threatening to wither away before your very eyes. You both shared a look, agreeing silently to put the kid out of his misery. The instinctual nature of the act hit you like a bolt of lightning. Both of you so in tune it was comical. The dinner had been lovely, and you reminded yourself to encourage Jack to keep up his cooking hobby. Maybe you could foster a professional chef. You’d talked with them both, light and the happiest you’d felt in a while. There it was, you realized. That weightless feeling you wanted to give him. You felt it in yourself too, and you could only pray it was because he felt it first. When dinner concluded, you’d help clean up while Jack resumed his coloring. His bedtime was soon, and you didn’t want him to spend his last hour washing pans. He was nearly delirious by the time 9:00 graced the clock, tired from the preparation of the day and needing to get to sleep. He’d given you a hug goodnight, thanked you for coming like the gentleman he was, and that was the last you saw of him. The rest of your time there was spent on the couch with Aaron, you both held a second glass of wine, and you noticed it manifest in the blush on his face. He was gorgeous, and you were staring. You know your eyes went to his lips a couple times as he spoke, low and rougher as the time ushered more light out of the sky. You saw his eyes slip down a few times too, this sort of unspoken, agonizing rule of look don’t touch. He’d walked you to the door, thanked you for your attendance, and then you were leaving. Sitting in your car, warm on the inside from both his presence and the anger you felt at yourself for not just kissing him. You were so incredibly needy for this - for him, and that fact just sat with you, like a raincloud constantly in a state of downpour, never letting you forget the pure fucking craving you had for him.

–

You think the start of your blackout was Morgan’s panicked voice over the speaker. You’d been stationed in your typical hut, equipped with medical gear and waiting on someone to need you. It was almost never your team in need of service, typically you were tending to an injured hostage or sometimes the unsub themselves, but never your friends. Your breath had been baited since you’d heard the gun go off. You knew the case was dealing with an aggressive attacker, you’d been expecting a fight, but nothing is ever more excruciating than waiting to hear who the shot was meant for. Derek crying out your name followed by a “get in here. Hotch is down, we need you in here.” had you ready to run the soles of your shoes down to dust just to make it in time. In time. God, in time for what? You’d ran past Emily and Rossi hauling out the unsub, anger evident in their treatment of him. How bad was it? How bad had he got him to have them acting like that?

The scene was bloody. Your brain switching off and forcing you into autopilot as you registered the pool of Hotch’s blood that Morgan was kneeling in. He was putting pressure on the wound, an attempt to stop the bleeding but it was flowing like a river. He wouldn’t make it to the hospital like this, you realized. He wouldn’t make it to the fucking hospital. You were holding his life in between your hands right now, the slightest tremor could sever that chord and you were feeling the pressure hard. Aaron was leaned against the wall, slumping down slightly which was only making the bleeding increase under the internal pressure.

You looked at Morgan, putting on the bravest face you could muster and effectively seizing control of the situation. “Morgan.” You got his attention quickly. “On three I need you to lift him away from the wall. I need to check for an exit wound.” He just nodded, doing exactly as you’d told him when you reached three. You checked the area, finding an exit wound in nearly the same spot. It’d been a straight line. You sighed in relief. Thank fucking God. “Ok, Morgan, I need you to put pressure on the wound on his back. I’m going to stitch the front to give us the time we need for the hospital drive but I need you to hold it. You got me?”

He nodded once. “I got it.” He moved his hand from the front to the back, Aaron wincing at the switch.

You took out the numbing cream from your pack, knowing it wouldn’t do much for a gushing bullet wound but hoping it would at least quell the sting of a needle. You took out the needle, threading it with hands frighteningly stagnant as the adrenaline gave you tunnel vision. You had to save him. “Aaron.” You looked at him as you prepped his skin for the procedure. “I’m gonna need to double stitch this, and it’s gonna hurt like hell. I need you to stay with me.”

The man just nodded, exhaling in exhaustion. “Do it.”

You worked as quickly as possible, gaining hope as you listened to the ambulance approach. “There you go.” You said under your breath, at this point you couldn’t tell if you were reassuring him or yourself. You looked to Morgan, who was still sealing the other injury. “Help me get him up. Keep your hand on there. These stitches are gonna give us twenty minutes tops. Hold his shoulders straight and walk quickly.” You counted again, both of you rising when you hit three, taking the man with you. The walk to the ambulance was the longest of your life. Aaron was clinging to his consciousness but you knew he was losing grip. Finally getting him to the stretcher and slamming the doors was a relief like nothing else. There was no time to debate anyone else going, you rushed him in and sat right down beside him, taking off almost immediately after. The bleeding had slowed, and your hand took the place of Morgan’s on his back. Since he was laying down, his full weight was on it, and you felt the circulation lessen more and more as it remained there. You couldn’t care less, you’d let the blood drain from your entire arm if it meant Aaron’s survival. He hadn’t passed out, which you thought was miraculous, simply walked the line of decently delirious. Groaning under his breath at every slight bump in the road.

“Why am I always having to save you Hotchner men?” You knew now wasn’t the time to be humorous, but you would have done anything to deviate from the tears in your eyes, the ball in your throat. You finally understood why it was frowned upon to date coworkers - it should be illegal to care this much.

“I don’t know, honey.” The pet name was the kicker, allowing a tear to break the dam and roll down your cheek as he chuckled. “You seem to be pretty damn good at it, though.” You laughed too, fighting the devastation you felt at the sight of him with the fact that he was clearly well enough to still be joking. “I should have kissed you when you came for dinner.”

Fuck. “Aaron, now is not the time.” You chuckled slightly as more tears fell. This is absurd.

“I know but-” He flinched as the ambulance hit another bump. Almost there. “I might as well say it now.” You wondered if there was genuinely something wrong with him. “You’ve been all I can think about since the moment-'' He paused to breathe slightly in exertion, you giving a disapproving look as his confession took it’s toll. “since the moment you started, you know that?”

“You are dying! Please, for the love of God, Aaron. Use this energy to prevent that from happening.” Your scolding was dramatic, but your actual concern shone brightly through your ruse of sarcasm.

“Exactly.” He was being equally as sarcastic. How on Earth did he manage this with a rapidly declining life force. “Give a dying man a chance. How unfortunate would it be if the last thing I hear before I go out is the woman of my dreams rejecting me?”

“Jesus Christ.” You shook your head in pure amazement. This was by far the most goal oriented man you’d ever met. “I’ll let you take me out if you shut the hell up and save your energy.” He smiled, letting his head hit the reclined back of the stretcher. “After you get better.” You added, reminding him that his recovery took priority. “Deal?”

“Deal.” This was probably the most insufferable man you’d ever met. “Such a good motivator.”

Scratch that. Most insufferable man ever.

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haetrack · 29 days

Note

was just thinking about walking up to haechan jerking off bc he woke up from a sex dream and then you start kissing him and are like “tell me what i did next in the dream baby” and then he tells u and u do it and then u just keep going with him telling u what u did yk what i mean..

warnings: male masturbation, riding, morning sex, teasing, desperate haechan, unprotected sex, MDNI

a/n: i will always love writing morning sex and it’s even better w haechan… the brainrot won and i wrote this in one sitting

your dream is currently being interrupted by the sounds of hushed moans.

you’d be scared if it weren’t for the fact that you know haechan is right next to you. it doesn’t take you long to piece together what's happening when you feel the quick movement of his arm sliding along his length.

you think his hand might be covering his mouth, a muffled moan of your name passing by your ear. he’s not being as quiet as he thinks he is, slick sounds of him fisting his cock fill the room. you stop yourself from squeezing your thighs together, too affected by your boyfriend.

as discreetly as possible, you push yourself up close to his cheek. he stops a bit, heavy breaths as he checks if you wake up. after a moment, he continues, hand slowly restarting its movements. you're so close to him, you can feel his warm skin against you, his breath fanning against the top of your head.

you could just let him get off in peace, but something compels you to press a small kiss to his cheek. he immediately reacts, his body stiffening up, unsure if he should continue. once you kiss him again, he doesn't care, hand moving quicker than before over his cock.

you smile against his skin, "good morning, haechan. what's got you like this?"

"morning, baby," he lets out a choked groan, "you. you got me like this."

he shifts onto his side, his hand still wrapped around his cock as he kisses you. his clean hand holds your face, pressing you closer to him as his thumb runs across your cheek. he's needy, probably trying to get off a lot longer than what you had seen.

his tongue licks into your mouth, not caring how messy he's being despite it being so early. his hand smooths over your side, groping at your skin once he meets your hips. he's groaning into your mouth, and you have to suppress a laugh that tries to come out of you.

you try pulling away, but he chases after your lips. you allow him a quick peck, holding him back by his shoulder so you can get a good look at him. you give him a lazy smile, "you know you could've just woken me up, right?"

he whines, hand stroking your thigh, "i know, it's just...”

you give him a questioning look, waiting for him to continue.

there’s no shame in his body when he finally admits to you, "i had a sex dream. about us. and i couldn't help myself."

you eye how his cock twitches in his hold, getting off on your reaction. your thumb moves to trace along his tip, watching as his hips buck against his hold, a hiss leaving his mouth. he tries to fight his hips from stuttering, but fails when you swat away his hand and replace it with your own.

"wanna tell me what we were doing in your dream?" you ask, smiling up at his flushed face.

he quickly moves to lay flat on his back, grabbing onto your hips as he pulls you on top of him. he has you sat right on top of his cock, and he can feel how you subtly grind down onto him. he thanks every god out there that you decided to only wear panties, feeling how wet you are.

he hums out appreciatively, "had you like this, all nice and wet for me. you kept begging for me to fill you up with my cock, and all i wanted to do was to tease you."

he can feel you clench around nothing, giving up any restraint as he grinds his cock up into your clothed heat. as much as he wants to just slip inside and let you ride him, he wants to take it slow.

his hands slide up to grope your covered chest, feeling your hard nipples under his touch. he lets out a satisfied hum, “if i didn’t know any better, i would’ve assumed you were the one who had a wet dream, baby. so needy for me, hm?”

you nod along to his words, trying not to rush as he touches you as he pleases. you can’t help but moan when he pinches one of your nipples, begging him to hurry and fuck you.

he just laughs, moving your panties to the side as you start grinding down on his cock. he places his hands on your hips, stopping your movements as he pouts, “aren’t you supposed to be listening to me? this was my dream, don’t be unfair.”

if it were any other circumstance, you’d tell him to stop being so dramatic. but now all you can do is pathetically whimper at his words, hoping he’ll do something to get you off.

he has to bite back a smirk seeing you so desperate on top of him. he brings a thumb to your clit, rubbing slow circles on you as he watches you fold over, gasping out at the feeling. he coos at the sight, “you need me so bad, don’t you? had you begging in my dream, you’re making it a reality, baby.”

you dig your nails into his bicep, not missing the small whimper he lets out at the feeling. you can feel his own patience wear thin, grinding his cock up to your dripping pussy. his tip catches at your entrance, causing you both to moan out.

he’s quick to lift your hips, lining himself at your entrance. his eyes bore into yours as he pushes your hips down, his eyes fluttering shut with how tight you feel. he tries to conceal a moan but fails, you just feel too good right now.

you get used to the stretch, feeling how he’s throbbing inside of you. his fingers dig into your sides, and you can tell just how much he’s trying to calm himself down. when you start moving, he lets out a loud moan, his hips meeting yours.

he tries to keep his eyes open, but with the feeling of your around him, it’s hard. his voice is shaky when he speaks, “w-wanted to have you crying for me like my dream, b-but i don’t think i’ll last long.”

“s-shouldn’t have gotten yourself off, then,” you whine out, your arms making their way to his shoulders. there’s no rhythm to your movements anymore, the both of you too caught up in how good it all feels.

he can feel himself getting lost in you. in his dream, you were the one crying out to him. but now that it’s happening, he can’t help but to feel so desperate as his hips drive up into yours. he lets out a moan at the sight of you grinding down on him, “y-yeah, use me, baby. use me to get yourself off.”

you can feel yourself body get hot at his words, feeling his hands move to guide you up and down his length. his eyes watch where he enters you, and when he feels you clench around him, his head falls back onto the pillows with a moan.

as much as he wants to see you on top of him like this, he needs you close, needs to feel your skin against his. his arms wrap around your neck, bringing you down to kiss you. he can feel your nipples against his chest, unable to stop how he bucks into you.

he lets out a whine against your lips, “y-you’re so mean to me, your needy pussy’s getting me so fucking close.”

you shudder at his words, your head falling to his shoulder, moaning into his skin. you pull back a little, “was i like this in your dream? was i begging for you to cum in me? because i really wan’ you to cum in me, please!”

a breathy laugh leaves him, his hips driving up into your cunt. his thumb sneaks under you to rub at your clit, holding back a whimper at the feeling of you grinding down on him. he throws his head back, “are you gonna cum with me? need you to cum so i can fill my baby up.”

you nod quickly, leaning up a little more so you can properly ride him again. the room is hot, there’s a mess between your legs, and there’s haechan clawing at your skin. it’s only when you hear a whimper of your name and see haechan’s fucked out face that you cum.

haechan tries to hold off so you can ride out your orgasm, but it’s so hard for him when you wrap tightly around him. he brings you down again, his arms wrapping around your back and keeping you close as he fucks your cunt full of his cum.

he’s letting out whimpers, too sensitive for the morning, getting dizzy at the feeling. he has to grip your hips when he feels you clench around him, the overstimulation biting at him.

you finally get down from your high, placing soft kisses along the skin of his neck. you can feel him shiver, his fingers pressing feather-like touches along your back. he pulls out of you slowly, laughing at how you grimace when he moves your panties into place, keeping his cum in you.

you roll to your side, cuddling up next to him. it’s not too early anymore, the sun risen to brighten up his bedroom. as hot as you are, you can’t help but nuzzle into haechan’s warm skin, sighing contently. he leans over to press kisses along the side of your face, smiling once he reaches your lips.

he collapses back onto the bed. in no world would he ever try getting up this early, not when you’re so close to him. he needs you to stay close, needs to feel you right there next to him as he falls back asleep. he mumbles into your skin, “in my dream you stayed in bed with me for another hour.”

how could you argue with that?

#asks #anon #vals hard hours #nct smut #haechan smut #haechan hard hours #haechan x reader

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proxima-writes · 9 months

Text

the old college try

pairing: frat dad!joel miller x college student!female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 5.1k

summary:

Family Weekend, or DILF Day as you and your friends like to refer to it, is when the University of Texas encourages the parents and families of its student body to visit the school and participate in activities that the Division of Student Affairs has organized. The fraternities and sororities have their own schedule that includes not-so-sanctioned house parties on frat row following the game. It’s your senior year and your last DILF Day so you’re hoping to go out with a bang. Literally. Enter Joel Miller, handsome single dad visiting his son at the Theta Lambda Upsilon fraternity house.

dear reader:

this is an extremely self-indulgent fic that i just had to write, so i hope you enjoy it! if you do, please consider leaving a comment or reblogging <3

content warnings:

explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), alternate universe - no outbreak/no sarah, age difference (42M and 23F), dub con - sex under the influence of alcohol, no use of y/n, frat party stereotypes, keg stands and beer pong, semi-public sex (frat bathroom), mild daddy kink (not during sex), p in v, oral sex (f receiving), dirty talk, cheesy dad jokes, the university of texas as a plot device. please let me know if any are missing!

You turn over in your bed with a deep groan, burying your face into your pillow. You reach your arm out from under the covers to grab your phone from the nightstand, smacking your hand around the wood surface until you find it and can bring it under the covers with you. Turning over, you tap the screen and squint at the series of unread text messages.

Ashley: Get up bitch!

Ashley: It’s time to get ready!

Ashley: We’re going to be late if you don’t get up

Ashley: Don’t make me break into your apartment

Ashley: You know I can

You sit up quickly, shoving the blankets off of you and rushing to the front door, flipping the lock and pulling it open. Your best friend is across the threshold, knelt down on the ground with two bobby pins held up and her eyes wide in surprise.

“Aw man,” she laments, standing and brushing off her knees. “I wanted to test my skills.”

“I’m not paying to replace the lock,” you chastise, stepping back to let her in. “Sorry, overslept.”

“Figured. I’ll get your coffee started,” she replies, heading for your kitchen while you head back to your bedroom to start your morning routine. “Guess which frat is hosting the tailgate today?”

“Which one?” You shout from the bathroom as you run through your skincare routine.

“Theta Lambda Upsilon,” Ashley shouts back. The scent of brewing coffee paired with this excellent news has you perking up immediately.

Your friend steps into your room with two mugs in her hands, passing one to you as you exit the bathroom and sit at your cluttered vanity, pushing aside products to make room to set your mug down. Ashley sits on your bed, folding her legs beneath her.

“The hottest frat hosting the tailgate and after party means we’ll get to see the hottest dads this weekend,” she says, shimmying her shoulders excitedly. “It’s simple genetics.”

“You dropped genetics. Remember? You couldn’t handle an 8 am class,” you say as you apply mascara.

“I went to enough classes to know how a Punnett square works.”

You laugh, finishing your makeup between long sips of coffee. “It’s amazing you couldn’t tough it out through an early semester but give you an afternoon game and you’re trying to break into my apartment at the crack of dawn.”

“It’s DILF Day, baby. It’s like waking up on Christmas morning.”

As an out-of-state student, your parents have always skipped Family Weekend in exchange for buying your plane tickets back home for Thanksgiving and Christmas break, which leaves you with plenty of opportunity to ogle the hot dads that descend upon campus on this glorious weekend. You’ve never had the guts to actually pursue anything with anyone, but it’s your senior year and your last DILF Day so you’re hoping to go out with a bang.

Literally.

“What are you going to wear?” Ashley asks.

“Shorts and that new tank top I got,” you reply, finishing your makeup with a pop of your lips after applying gloss. “And boots. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Ashley nods as you rifle through your closet for the outfit in question - denim cutoffs and orange Texas Longhorn tank top that hugs your curves and shows off the perfect amount of cleavage. Finishing the look with your worn brown cowgirl boots, you spin for your friend who gives you a thumbs up. “Sexy. I reckon’ this year you’ll catch yourself a DILF.”

You roll your eyes. “Maybe. We’ll see.”

Joel’s arm hangs out the truck’s open window, fingers tapping against the hot metal as he drives down the highway towards the Austin campus of the University of Texas. It’s Family Weekend and his son, Sean, started his sophomore semester at UT a few weeks prior and now lives in the Theta Lambda Upsilon fraternity house on campus after proving to Joel that he would take his classes seriously by doing well his freshman year. Joel’s always been close with his son as a single dad and the fact that Sean asked him to Family Weekend feels like a testament to that bond.

The campus is already bustling with the game day crowd, trucks parked in grassy areas along the road with their tailgates down, people setting up tents and tables and coolers. Joel drives slowly down the street until he’s turning down a side road and parking down the hidden drive his son had given him instructions to find. He hops from the truck, sneakers hitting the hot pavement and the sun already beating down on his arms as he makes his way towards the TLU house a couple blocks away.

There’s a huge crowd of students and parents in shades of burnt orange and white on the front lawn of the two story fraternity house, red solo cups or cans of beer in hand. Joel looks around until he hears a familiar voice calling out, “Dad!”

Sean emerges from the crowd dressed in a white polo shirt with an orange Longhorn logo on the chest tucked into khaki pants, his curly brown hair slicked back with gel. Joel smiles, hugging his son and patting him on the back in greeting.

“Been ages since I saw you, kid. Have you gotten taller?” Joel asks.

Sean rolls his eyes. “You saw me last weekend!”

A voice calls out Sean’s name and the younger man throws an arm around Joel’s shoulders, dragging him along into the packed fraternity house. The scene inside is not unlike all the ones he’s seen in movies and TV shows - flags stuck to the walls as decor, a mysteriously sticky floor, and kitchen countertops filled with booze. Sean stops and grabs a red plastic cup, handing it to Joel.

“Pick your poison,” Sean instructs, grabbing his own cup. Joel raises an eyebrow at him.

“Last I checked, you weren’t twenty-one,” he chastises, earning him another eye roll.

“Like you didn’t know Uncle Tommy was buying me beer when I was a senior.”

“He what?” Joel asks, though the question is lost in the noise as Sean leads him to an impressive back deck hosting a beer pong table and two kegs nestled in plastic trash cans and surrounded by ice.

Sean slips into the crowd surrounding the kegs, taking Joel’s cup from his hands, pumping the tap and filling each cup with ice cold beer, handing one to Joel.

“Go Longhorns,” Sean says, tapping his cup to Joel’s and chugging the contents. Joel watches his twenty-year-old son with wide eyes and a torn conscience.

“This is what I’m payin’ tuition for, huh?” He teases, taking a single sip of the cheap beer. A cheer erupts from behind him and he turns to look at what’s causing so much excitement.

You and a friend are at one end of a plastic folding table, glaring daggers at two boys at the other end, a single solo cup set on the table in front of you. You have a white ping pong ball held delicately between two fingers, your other hand propped on your hip as you squint one eye shut to take your aim for the cup that sits in front of the boys. You let the ball fly and it sinks into the cup, another cheer going through the small crowd gathered around you as you jump up and down excitedly.

Sean approaches the boys, slapping one of them on the shoulder. One of them shouts, “Redemption shot!”

“Oh, please! You can’t aim for shit, Chad!” You shout back.

“Celebrity shot, then!” He suggests. The boy, Chad, reaches out to pull an older man to his side. “Dad edition!”

Your eyes scan the crowd, landing on Joel. You wave him over, the older man glancing around briefly before pointing to himself to confirm. You nod, smile bright as he approaches.

“I need a daddy for this celebrity shot, you wanna do the honors?” You ask sweetly. Joel swallows nervously, face heating at the suggestive tone and look you’re giving him.

“Come on, dad!” Sean calls out. “Show ‘em what a Miller man can do!”

“Yeah,” you chime in. “Show me what a Miller man can do.”

“Alright, fine,” Joel acquiesces, moving to stand beside you. You slip a ping pong ball into his hand, standing so close beside him that your bare arm brushes his as you both watch Chad’s dad take aim for the single cup.

The ball soars through the air, hitting the rim of the cup and bouncing off onto the table, rolling to the ground as the men groan. He feels you place a hand on his shoulder, your lips close to his ear as you whisper, “Come on, Mr. Miller. You’re my only hope.”

It doesn’t escape Joel’s notice that you keep your hand on his shoulder as he takes aim and throws the ball across the table, sinking it into the cup. You’re throwing your arms around his shoulders in celebration as the people around you shout excitedly. On instinct, Joel’s arms wrap around your waist, holding you close for a brief moment before coming to his senses and taking a step back.

“Thanks,” you say, looking up at him through your lashes. “I’m going to go inside for a drink. You want anything? I’ve got a stash of IPAs in a friend’s fridge upstairs if you want something better than Miller Lite. Consider it a thank you for winning me bragging rights over Chad.”

Joel should say no. He shouldn’t be taking up drink offers from someone half his age, but you’re giving him another devastating smile that has his resolve folding faster than a lawn chair in a hurricane.

“Sure.”

The hottest man you’ve ever seen is currently following you upstairs to your friend Craig’s room for a beer. He’s tall and tan with sweet brown eyes and dark hair that looks like it would be a dream to run your fingers through. His broad chest and toned biceps press deliciously at the confines of the white UT Longhorns shirt he’s wearing. When he stepped up beside you to throw your celebrity shot at the beer pong table downstairs, you’d noted that his left hand featured no wedding band or a tan line of one left behind.

You reach the second floor and head for the last door on the right, marked with a PRESIDENT plaque. You reach into the pocket for the key Craig had given you earlier and let yourself inside, heading for the mini fridge in the corner and grabbing two Yellow Rose IPA cans.

“So,” you say, handing the man one of the drinks. “You got a name, or should I keep calling you Mr. Miller?”

“It’s Joel,” he says, taking a long sip of the beer. You watch the muscles of his throat work, longing to press your lips against the tan skin.

You tell him your name, holding a hand out to him for a handshake. His grip is tight, sturdy, and for a brief moment you think about how his sure, thick fingers would feel deep inside of you. He looks around the room curiously as he pulls his hand back.

“Craig and I have been friends since freshman year,” you explain. “I helped him pass calculus, he lets me keep my beer out of the grubby hands of his frat brothers.”

“Calculus, huh?” He asks, taking another sip. “Must mean you’re pretty smart.”

“Just a basic engineering prerequisite,” you joke.

“Engineering? That’s impressive.”

You take a seat on Craig’s bed, crossing one leg over the other. Joel’s eyes track the movement and you smile, giddy at the attention. “What do you do, Mr. Miller?”

“Thought you were gonna call me Joel?”

“Mm, I can think of a few things to call you.”

Joel nearly spits his mouthful of beer out, choking on the bitter drink. You rush towards him, patting him on the back as he coughs. After a moment of fighting for breath, the man seems to realize how close you are, his gaze flicking between your eyes and your lips, trailing down to your chest.

You lean in a little closer, pressing yourself to him and you think this might be it, Joel Miller might be the DILF of your dreams as he leans into you as well.

But the doorknob rattles and the door swings open, Joel jumping back in surprise as both of you turn to look at the doorway. Craig leans against the frame, an eyebrow raised and a knowing smirk on his lips. You roll your eyes.

“Hey,” he says, looking between you and Joel. “Ashley’s lookin’ for you downstairs. We’re headin’ to the stadium now.”

“I better find Sean, then,” Joel says. Craig’s eyes light up.

“You’re Miller’s dad? Hey, man, nice to finally meet you. I’m Craig, TLU president.” The men shake hands, patting each other on the back. “Sean’s a good kid, we’re happy to have him.”

“Good to hear,” Joel replies.

“Well, guess I’ll go find Ashley.” You place a hand on Joel’s shoulder. “It was nice to meet you, Mr. Miller. Maybe I’ll see you later?” You let your hand trail down the man’s bicep as you leave and you watch his throat work around a nervous swallow.

“Yeah, sure,” he says. “See you later.”

The Longhorns pull off an impressive win, a 49-0 blowout against Oklahoma that has the entire campus celebrating with abandon. If Joel thought the TLU house was packed for the tailgate, that crowd was nothing compared to the after game party. More alcohol, more people, and more noise is packed into the house. Joel sticks close to Sean, meeting more of his frat brothers and their parents with shouted introductions.

When the stale air inside the house gets too overwhelming, Sean leads him to the deck. More kegs have appeared and his son bumps him with his shoulder, nodding towards where a few people are gathered around one, a man hoisted upside down by two people gripping his legs as he chugs directly from the keg tap. He spits the valve out as the crowd shouts a chorus of, “Twenty!”

“I bet you could do better,” Sean says. Joel raises an eyebrow at him.

“I know what you’re doin’, kid, and it ain’t gonna work,” Joel replies. Sean puts his hands up.

“I’m not doin’ anythin’. But if you’re too scared, you can tell me.”

“I’m not scared.”

“Hey, my dad’s got next!” Sean shouts, dragging Joel through the crowd with an arm around his shoulders. Joel tries to argue but a familiar face in the crowd has the words dying on his tongue. You wiggle your fingers at him in a wave and suddenly he has the motivation to execute the most impressive keg stand of his life.

Joel grabs the cold handles of the keg, Sean and one of his fraternity brothers lifting him into the air so that he’s suspended upside down over the barrel of beer. People begin counting, shouting numbers as he attempts to focus on the beer flooding his mouth and drinking it down steadily. It’s been a long time since he’s done one of these, probably before Sean was even born, but if there’s one thing Joel has never been, it's a quitter.

After what feels like forever he spits the valve out with a gasp and he gets lowered back to ground as the crowd shouts, “Thirty-four!”

Sean’s frat brothers jump around him excitedly, hands patting him on the back and cheering his name. He laughs as Sean starts yelling, “That’s what I’m fuckin’ talkin’ about!”

Movement from the corner of his eye catches his attention and he turns his head just in time to see you disappear into the house. He tells Sean he’ll be back in a minute and follows after you, craning his neck to scan the mass of bodies crammed inside until he spots you on the stairs.

When he finally manages to reach the stairs, he’s surprised to find them roped off at the bottom. Looking around to make sure no one is paying attention to him, he ducks beneath the barrier, taking the steps two at a time. The second floor is dark and empty but light spills into a hall from beneath the last door marked PRESIDENT.

Joel knocks on the wood, his head a little light from the rush of alcohol in his system but it has him feeling good.

Confident.

Maybe a little too confident because when you open the door, he wraps an arm around your waist, pushing his way inside as his lips find yours, a little noise of surprise swallowed by him as his tongue explores yours.

He comes to his senses when your teeth nip at his bottom lip, jarring him back to a reality where he is a mature adult who thinks with his brain and not his dick. He grips you on the shoulders, breaking the kiss and holding you at arm's length.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t even ask if it was okay to kiss you, just came bargin’ in here like a bull in a goddamn china shop and you probably don’t even want—“

“Joel?” You interrupt. He blinks.

“Yeah?” He asks.

“Kiss me again.”

Joel kisses you again, but pulls away a second time to ask, “Wait, how old are you?”

“Twenty-three,” you reply, giggling as he mutters a low thank god before pulling you back into his arms. It’s another short lived kiss, the man leaning back once more as you huff in annoyance.

“Wait, how much have you had to drink?” He asks this time.

“Less than you, Mr. Thirty-Four-Second Keg Stand,” you answer. He gives you a smirk that has your stomach doing somersaults.

“You liked that, huh?”

His hands slip into the back pockets of your shorts and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. He kisses you again, slower this time, like he’s savoring the feel of your lips against his. Your heart is racing as he pulls you even closer and runs his hands up your back, warm palms exploring your curves like he’s trying to map them to memory.

You’re lost enough in each other that the sound of the door opening doesn’t register until an upset voice is saying, “Ugh, come on! No fucking in my room!”

“Shit,” you yelp, tearing yourself away from Joel. Craig is standing in the doorway with his arms crossed. You grab Joel’s hand and tug him towards the door of the en-suite bathroom, pulling him inside and slamming the door behind you, flipping the lock.

“Hey, wait a minute—“

“It’s not your room, Craig!” You yell through the wood. There’s a muffled curse from the other side.

“Condoms are under the sink,” he shouts back. You grin victoriously at Joel, who’s laughing so hard he has a hand pressed to his chest. You step up to him, grabbing that hand and bringing it around your waist.

“You sure about this?” Joel asks seriously, stepping forward until he’s crowding you against the door. You tilt your head up to look at his handsome face, his dark eyes so intense as he searches your face that you feel giddy.

“I mean, the location isn’t ideal, but at least Craig keeps his bathroom pretty clean,” you joke, noting the clear counter space and surprising lack of dirty clothing littering the floor.

“Answer the question, sweetheart. You sure about doing this with me?”

You reach up, tangling your fingers into his soft curls, pulling him close until your lips graze his as you respond, “I’m so fucking sure.”

Whatever tether of control Joel had been holding onto seems to snap with your words, the man kissing you so roughly that all you can do is hold on, your fingers curling desperately against his scalp as his tongue dives into your mouth and tangles with yours. He tastes like beer and smells like a mixture of cedar and sweat, the combination intoxicating as he presses close and surrounds you with it.

Joel trails his lips across your jaw, nipping your earlobe before continuing down your neck. He sucks the thin skin over your pulse before soothing the sting with his tongue as you writhe against him, gasping at the sensation. You can feel his smile against your shoulder and as he presses a thigh between your legs, you get a brief feel of his hard cock behind the barrier of his basketball shorts.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he growls, hands trailing across your curves until he’s gripping one of your breasts, squeezing tightly.

“Not so bad yourself,” you moan. He chuckles darkly.

“The mouth on you.” He reaches two fingers into the low neck of your tank top, dragging it down over your breasts. He yanks the cups of your bra down in a similar fashion, the fabric bunched beneath your chest to expose your tight nipples to him. He dips his head down and wraps his lips around a tight bud, pulling it into his mouth as you gasp.

“Could show you some other things my mouth is good at,” you tell him as he releases your breast with a wet pop, lifting his head to look at you.

“I have a better idea,” he says, dropping to his knees. He lifts one of your legs and wiggles your boot off, tossing it to the side before doing the same with the other.

“What are you doing?” You ask when his hands reach for the fly of your shorts. He pauses, looking up at you with concern.

“I was plannin’ on eatin’ you out until you couldn’t think straight,” he says. His brows pinch together. “Do you not want that?”

“I-I’m not sure? I mean, no one’s ever…,” your sentence trails off, your eyes going wide.

Joel runs a soothing hand down your thigh, smiling up at you. “That’s a damn shame, baby. Let me show you how a real man takes care of a woman.”

You let him work your shorts and panties down your thighs, stepping out of them with a hand on his shoulder to steady yourself. He lifts one of your legs and settles it over his shoulder, opening you up to his hungry gaze. His eyes flick up to your face and he grins as he says, “Pretty all over, aren’t ya?”

Any smart reply you have died on your tongue as he starts kissing the sensitive skin of your thighs, starting at the knee that’s close to his face and moving up, up, up until you can feel his warm breath on your pussy. His tongue flicks across your clit, featherlight, but it’s enough to have you gasping his name.

He starts a rhythm of messy swirls of his tongue over your sensitive bundle of nerves before dipping down to your entrance, the tip of his nose still brushing your clit and making you moan. You buck against his face and he immediately grasps your hips in his big hands, fingers curling into the flesh of your ass to hold you still as he lavishes your pussy with attention.

“Oh my god,” you pant, reaching down to tangle your fingers in his hair. He groans at the same time his lips wrap around your clit and the sound of his satisfaction has your orgasm taking you by surprise, washing through your veins and making you feel like you’re on fire.

You feel breathless as he licks you slowly, thoroughly, his tongue making sure he’s gotten every last drop of your release. He leans back, slowly lowering your leg from his shoulder. His lips and chin are coated in your wetness, shiny in the light of the bathroom vanity, the sight making your cheeks feel hot and a nervous giggle spill free.

Joel grins, boyish and sweet. “Good?” He asks.

“Great. Amazing,” you concur. “Ten out of ten. Your Yelp review will be glowing.”

“Shouldn't I be the one leavin’ the Yelp review? You were the meal after all.”

You blink at him. “Oh my god, that was so bad,” you say, laughter near hysterical.

He stands, his palms cupping your face and pulling you into a filthy kiss that quickly shuts you up, his tongue slowly exploring yours and introducing the musky taste of yourself to your taste buds. You reach down, palming his hard cock through his shorts and the responding groan you receive from the older man has you clenching in anticipation.

Joel breaks the kiss, pulling you against his body and turning until you’re facing the vanity, your hips pressed to the edge of the laminate counter. You watch his reflection in the mirror as he runs a hand down your back, pressing you forward slightly so that you’re bent over the counter, ass slightly tilted up. His hand continues lower until it’s running reverently over one cheek. He catches your eye in the mirror.

“You gonna let me fuck you just like this?” He asks. Your breath hitches as his fingers trace through your folds, one dipping into your entrance. He watches your face in the mirror, eyes dark and expression serious. “Answer me.”

“Fuck, yes, anything,” you say quickly. He thrusts his finger slowly, curling it against your front wall with every pull from your body. One finger becomes two, the slight stretch making you whine as he continues to work them in and out of you. “Joel, please.”

“Please what, baby?” He asks.

“Need you to fuck me,” you tell him.

Joel grins, removing his fingers and urging you to the side so he can open the cabinet under the sink. He crouches down, rummaging through the contents for a moment before standing with a victorious expression and a foil packet pinched between his fingers. He shoves his basketball shorts and boxers down his thighs, just low enough to free his impressive cock, thick and long with a slight curve up that has your mouth watering. He rolls the condom on and then grabs your hips, the tip of his length sliding through your folds and making your breath catch.

“You ready, baby?” He asks, squeezing your hips. You meet his gaze in the reflection, your lips tilted in a smirk.

“Been ready for a while, old man,” you tease. He raises his eyebrows and draws his hand back, landing a sharp smack to your ass that has you crying out.

Before the sting even fades, he’s pushing inside of you with one steady thrust until his hips are flush to your ass. Your fingers curl around the edge of the counter and you lift onto your tiptoes, trying to escape the sudden sensation of his cock stretching you so well. He chuckles darkly, tight hands on your hips keeping you from going too far.

“Old man,” he taunts, mimicking the higher pitch of your voice. He reaches forward, palm resting beneath your chin as his fingers and thumb press into your cheeks, tilting your head up so that your eyes meet his in the mirror as he says, “Eyes up, sweetheart. You watch how this old man fucks you.”

Joel draws his hips back and slams forward, the head of his cock burying so deep inside of you that your eyes roll back from the exquisite stretch and pressure. He sets a rhythm that has a constant string of moans and pleas spilling from your parted lips, a slow pull out and a rough push in that makes you see stars. If you dare to let your chin drop or your eyes shut, the strong hand around your throat reminds you of his demand that you watch.

“That feel good, baby?” He grunts. “My cock in this tight fuckin’ pussy?”

“Yes, yes, yes!”

“That’s right, who’s fuckin’ you so good? Say my name, sweetheart, wanna hear it from that pretty mouth.”

“Joel!” You cry out, the tight coil of pleasure in your belly finally unraveling, your cunt pulsing greedily around his cock as you cum. He curses, his rhythm going sloppy as he fucks you through your release and right into his own.

His hand leaves your throat and his head drops to your shoulder, soft kisses being left on your shoulder blades as you both catch your breath. After a long moment, he pulls back from you, removing the condom and tying it off to toss it in the garbage.

You straighten up from your bent position over the counter, fixing your bra and tank top back into place. Turning, you find Joel holding your shorts and panties.

“Was that…are you…did you—“

You lean into him as you grab your clothes, kissing him softly. Pulling back, you murmur, “That was amazing.”

Joel sighs in relief, watching as you get dressed and tug your boots back on. “Good. That’s…good.”

“Why don’t you head downstairs first? I need to freshen up,” you suggest. Joel nods, but doesn’t make a move to leave. You raise your eyebrows at him and that seems to have him getting the hint.

“Oh! Right, I’ll just…go downstairs,” he says. You giggle, leaning into him for one more kiss before he disappears from the bathroom and you busy yourself with fixing your appearance to look a little less well fucked.

Downstairs, Joel wanders through the first floor in search of his son. He feels a flash of guilt for leaving him for so long, especially to fuck a woman half his age in a frat house bathroom, but the guilt is short lived when he finds his son with his tongue down the throat of a blonde girl in the living room.

“Jesus Christ,” he mumbles, turning to head for the front door instead. It’s getting late and now seems like a good time to head home.

He’s a few steps out the front door when he hears his name called out and you appear from the doorway.

“You heading out so soon?” You ask, bottom lip jutting out in a pout that he kind of wants to kiss from your lips. He runs a nervous hand through his hair.

“Uh, yeah. Was gonna head home,” he says. Christ, he has no idea why he’s acting so weird, but you have him tied up in knots.

“You know…my apartment isn’t far. Maybe…maybe you don’t have to go home just yet?” You say, looking up at him through your lashes.

Those knots of uncertainty loosen and Joel holds a hand out to you.

“Lead the way, baby.”

Joel Miller Masterlist

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel tlou #no use of y/n #joel x reader #joel the last of us #joel miller tlou #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction #tlou hbo #tw age gap #tw age difference

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glassrowboat · 3 months

Text

Morning After

Authors note: This includes a variety of my own headcanons on these characters. The reader is gender neutral. This includes only the male harbingers, but I am willing to write one for the chicks too ^^

Capitano.

-The instant you stirred in your sleep, just the slightest twitch, and you were pinned to the mattress with a looming figure above you. His black hair tickled your skin, swaying back and forth from the sudden movement, but that was barely a concern when this man who had been so sweet with you last night was suddenly acting like a switch that flipped off in his brain. All you could tell was one discernable thing after the sudden surprise: there was no escape if he didn't want there to be.

-”Capitano?” You called out, voice hesitant and barely a whisper as fear choked back the ability to speak confidently.

-Immediately the tense nature that had over taken his form fell, shoulders no longer strung together as that soldier who had been pinning you down held you close and started apologizing for startling you.

-He didn't have to say it, he didn't want to, bit for a moment there the Captain had mistaken you for someone that crept into his chambers with ill intent. He's a soldier. War is what he's known for. This caution just comes with the territory.

-To make up for his own actions he makes sure you're well fed, given a hearty breakfast (one a little too big for you to fully eat but he doesn't mind giving you some Tupperware to take it home in) and tea.

-It's just he's a terrible conversationalist, barely talking as he just nods along to whatever you say, making you carry the flow the entire morning as he adds in an occasion “yes, interesting, or no.”

-At least he's handsome under that helmet.

Childe.

-Fell off the bed the moment he saw you, a shout falling from his lips from the surprise of the fall and well, this naked person in his bed.

-Why he didn't expect you to wake up and throw a pillow at his head for being so darn loud when you have a hangover? Well, only Celestia knows. Though he didn't bother to block it, simply accepted getting hit as it didn't even knock him back.. well that is if he didn't play along and dramatically fell down onto the floor.

-”Are you always such a drama queen?”

-”A guy can't play along with a joke?”

-Very sweet, but a little bit annoying as he asks about you in as many questions he can think of. What's your favorite color? What's your job?

-Admittedly Childe has never had a one night stand before so he doesn't know what to do in this position so when you give him a sweet smile and tell him to just to let you get dressed for now he goes to get a stray shirt for you.

-Definitely wants to see you again, and not just in the bedroom.

-”So where do you come from?”

-”Give me five minutes for fucks sake.”

Dottore.

-First off, what? He's aware each harbinger has their own little dedicated fan club, even him…for some reason. Yet for him to willingly bring someone, possibly one of them, to his bed? People aren't allowed in his personal quarters. Hell, he barely uses it himself, opting to sleep on that one couch in the laboratory. So why the switch in his normal behavioral patterns?

-(I personally see Dottore as a virgin so for this dweeb to lose it this way-)

-Admittedly, he's on edge from trying to remember what happened, the haze of sleep, and the shock of seeing someone he apparently trusted enough to bring to bed. It only made sense he was scowling at this sleeping body. It wouldn't be easy enough to just call it a new test subject, use the sheets as restraints to drag this stranger down to his lab and shove them in a cell but..

-Maybe not this time.

-Instead he gets up and throws on some clothes as quickly as possible, making sure to slot his mask in place despite the fact you have very obviously already seen what lies underneath. That and more.

-It has proven more useful than not to use that thing to hide his expressions.

- Depending on if he drank last night and that's what had him indulging in the warmth of another person's body, Dottore would have one of his clones stand by until you wake up. They can deal with the situation from there and take you home while he gets some caffeine in his body. An easy way to rid of a hangover and forget his newfound company.

-If it was a completely sober decision, Dottore no longer has the excuse that he simply got ahead of himself from the drink and would therefore be hostile in response. Unable to put up with this one bit, he would be telling his bed partner to get dressed and head home already so he can get back to work instead of watching over pointless little you.

-Don't try and say anything about possibly being emotionally attached, it would only anger him. Boy is not used to being open or vulnerable with anyone and you suddenly appearing and having held him so close last night would only set him off in the worst of ways.

Pantalone.

-First thing this man notices is he's just not as comfy as usual, somehow this mattress isn't right, he isn't sinking into the soft plush he spent thousands on. Not even his haze of grogginess was enough to make tossing and turning twist his body into comfort. (Goldilocks having motherfucker). So with a steady hand he reaches out to find his glasses on the nightstand, silver chains rattling on the surface as he pulls them close.

-A one night stand isn't an uncommon thing to the regrator, for him it's happened a small handful of times before but it's never something he's typically the better for in the morning. A man of his position caught slinking into a woman's bedroom as they drunkenly grope at eachother was far from a good look. Not to mention you never knew if the individual would keep their mouth shut.

-That has been a problem with one particular individual in the past that has henceforth been ‘dealt with.’

-But the person laying besides him was still conked out and wrapped in a good majority of the blankets the bedding had to offer. Well, a bit of a thief aren't they? Pantalone almost wanted to laugh but kept his mouth sealed shut, already knowing it's best not to wake you.

-Slowly he got up and out of the bed, trying to keep it from creaking too loudy, to put on last night's clothes. He'll take a shower and get changed into something clean later.

-With one last peak towards the stranger he spent the night with Pantalone slipped out of the front door.

Pierro.

-He's confused.

-Now he understands what happened, the sight of you naked and curled up into him is more than enough to make that clear; though your underwear basically on his favorite pillow definitely would have gotten the point across either way. But, like, him? You who look so much younger, livelier compared to what Pierro sees in the mirror every day after five hundred years haunting him.

-Maybe that joke the second made about people liking ‘older folks’ was based on reality.

-Would greedily allow himself to hold you in his arms for a time. It started with him first saying one minute, that's all he'd allow himself. Then that turned into five, then ten, then twenty. Eventually he would barely wish to nudge you awake even though he knows better.

-Don't go getting attached when there's so much left to do.

-When he finally did wake you up he did his best to make sure you wouldn't get startled, softly calling out the name he was given last night. It's just a shame you do, startling as your hand nearly wacked his face from sheer shock. (Though who can blame you? It's not everyday you blearliy open your eyes, vision still blurry as you take in a man with white hair and stars in his- wait is that the fucking Pierro? Oh fuck).

-The type to help you find your clothes and call for a cab so he knows you get home safely.

-Now all that's left is trying to figure out how to hide the hickey you planted on him.

Scaramouche.

-Let's be real here, you're not making it to the morning.

-He had no clue why he was allowing this, allowing a humans lips to fall to his own with such fevered need. In any other situation he'd be pushing them off, telling this person they're a useless worm that shouldn't ever have walked these lands if all they was going to do was use their life to paw at him. Oh but to worshipped was a delight.

-Kisses pressed to the wooden skin of his puppet body like small prayers to the God he will one day be. This is what humans are made for, aren't they? To give their all to a greater being. So readily Scaramouche let himself be tugged along as you pulled him to wherever you pleased, ready to lavish in the attention he so rarely got.

-A human isn't a threat after all.

-Yet when you tugged on his short, pulling them down just low enough for your mouth to eagerly await something filling it, everything took a turn for the worst.

-”Wait a minute, you don't have genitals?”

-And in a heartbeat you were struck with a bolt of lightning that had you dead on the spot.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #hoyoverse #x reader #capitano x reader #capitano #childe x reader #dottore x reader #Pantalone x reader #pierro x reader #scaramouche x reader #dottore #pantalone #childe #tartaglia x reader #gn reader #headcanons

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papercorgiworld · 3 months

Text

Another good morning

And the award for least original title goes to me, but then again I could’ve also gone for a good morning part two.

Draco, Mattheo, Enzo, Theo and Blaise

Thanks to this ask, I bring you more porn with zero plot: solely focussed on going down on your favourite Slytherins. Warning: smut, oral m!receiving.

If you want more, check out ‘A good morning’ which is oral f!receiving.

Again a total of 3000+ words of pure smut!! Surprised that I managed to write this much smut again. I feel like my brain is getting better at this. Anyways, prepare yourselves for another good morning. Happy readings! Have a lovely day!

Draco

The room was still dark, only a few lines of sun making their way through the curtains. With a flustered face you look at your still sleeping boyfriend. You have no idea what’s coming. You bite your lips as your body heats up. You were a girl on a mission, a rather dirty mission. You had purposely woken up early to return the favor to the blond in front of you. After he had treated you like a spoiled princess the morning before, it was now your turn to give him a good morning. What you hadn’t anticipated was that he would be so prepared for your actions, because when you moved the sheets aside you were welcomed by a most lovely sight. Never thought I could be so in love with one body part.

“You should start wearing clothes.” You whisper against his ear before getting up. “It’s hard to resist a naked man like you.” Draco’s still vast asleep and a playful grin forms on your face as you palm his member. You softly stroke him to see if you’ll get a reaction out of your sleeping boyfriend. “(Y/n)?” Draco whispers as he squirms a little. “Good morning.” Draco’s still tired eyes follow your voice to find you holding his cock in your hand. Instantly his mind puts one and two together and a lustful growl escapes him as his eyes look up to the ceiling. This woman is going to be the death of me.

You waste no time teasing and welcome his hardening member in your mouth, making Draco groan and dig his fingers in the mattress. You rest your hand on his abdomen as you work his cock in your mouth, before pulling away and jerking him for a moment. “You’re too good for me.” Draco whispers, between heavy breaths. You give him a playful pout. “I think we’re a perfect fit.” You say seductively and immediately take him back into your mouth, brushing your tongue over his tip. You push him deep, proving to him how perfect of a fit he is for you. Knowing exactly how he likes it you moan desperately against his hard one, making Draco force his eyes shut to keep himself from spilling his seed this quickly. You move up, gently sucking his tip and tasting his precum, before pumping his dick a few times.

Your eyes scan over his body and you notice how he’s out of breath and squirming in desperation for your mouth. When you meet his eyes a teasing smirk tugs on your lips as you lower your head, keeping your eyes on his, knowing that he’s close. For a moment all innocence leaves you as you take his dick like an animal, earning whiny moans from your boyfriend. “I’m-” Is all he manages to utter so you quickly move away, brushing his tip with your fingers and making him cum. “Look at the mess you’re making.” You tease at how he spilled over himself. “Me?” He’s baffled at your teasing, but he can’t help smiling at you lovingly signaling you to lay down next to him. “I’ll grab a tissue in a moment, first-” Draco kisses you passionately. “Good morning, princess.”

Mattheo

You wake slowly as the morning light partially fills the room. You snuggle closer to Mattheo’s warmth and he slings his arm around you as he spoons your whole body. You turn your head a bit towards him. “Good morning.” You whisper and Mattheo murmurs something inaudible back, making you chuckle. It’s then that you feel his morning hardness through the fabric of his boxers and you can’t help feel a soft thobbing feeling between your legs. So you turn around to peck him on the lips. “I love you.” You whisper hoping he will wake up and for a moment a smile tugs on his sleepy lips. “As you should.” He murmurs, but he’s still very much asleep. You roll your eyes at his words and sleepiness. You bite your lip as you adore his face and it’s then that you decide this might be the ideal moment to treat him the way he had spoiled you the previous morning.

You move away a little and without your warmth Mattheo’s sleeping body goes from laying on his side to resting on his back, giving you an ideal opportunity to trace kisses down his chest while simultaneously removing the sheets. A peaceful sigh leaves his lips and you smile against his body. Your hands snake to his waist slowly pulling his boxers down so you can reach for his dick. A still sleep drunk Mattheo wakes as he feels your hand grip around his hardening member. “(Y/n)?” His still sleepy voice searches for you. You pull out his impressive cock and enjoy the view of it before gently jerking it. Mattheo’s eyes fling open and as he looks at you he sees your face lower towards his dick with your tongue hungrily reaching for his tip. The view alone earns you a soft, but primal moan from his lips and when your tongue does touch his tip he feels like he could cum on the spot, body tensing and hands digging in his pillow.

When you hear him moan and feel the physical reaction you look up, turning him on even more so he throws his head back in pleasure. His dick is now painfully hard and his chest is heavy. “Please.” He pants and you can’t help but love his needy voice, while he mentally curses himself for it. Merlin, (y/n), you’re driving me mad like this, princess.

Needing no further encouragement than his low begging voice you slowly lower your head and swirl your tongue around his thobbing cock. Mattheo cannot take your teasing and props himself up on his elbows to watch you before reaching for your hair to demand you stop playing. Though his touch isn’t rough you know not to tease if he’s this desperate and you work his whole dick inside your mouth. A whimper leaves his lips and you press your thighs together as sensations built up.

Your hand reaches for his balls and you move away only to take him again and even deeper this time. Mattheo is forced to let go of your hair to properly support himself on his elbows, while you can now taste his precum. You move to lick his tip and look up to meet his eyes, making him groan at how close he was getting. You can’t resist smirking a little before taking his cock fully. After bobbing your head a few times and turning your boyfriend into a moaning mess, he reaches for your head, gently entangling his fingers with your hair. “I’m gonna cum… I’m gonna fill your mouth.” Mattheo pants and bucks his hips a few times, softly thrusting his dick as deep as you can take it.

You start whimpering and just as tears start to well up he releases against the back of your throat and almost instantly he pulls you up and presses his chest against yours. “Swallow, I beg you.” He groans gutturally and dominantly. You struggle for a moment, but do so and Mattheo feels his heart race as he watches you intensely. He crashes his lips against yours. “Gods, you're perfect.” He’s almost frustrated with how much he loves you. With one hand still holding your head in place so he can ravishly kiss you, his other hand snakes to your panties, finding the wetness you had tried to hide. He smirks against your lips as a finger slides through your folds. “I fucking love you.” He growls and you moan into his kiss.

Lorenzo

The first light shows through the curtains of Enzo’s room and illuminates his most beautiful features. You smile at your boyfriend's peaceful and sleepy face. You push a strand of hair aside and place a soft kiss on his forehead, before shamelessly scanning the boy down and smirking. Only a few moments earlier Lorenzo incoherent sleepy murmurs had woken you up, followed by him entangling his naked body with yours. Immediately your mind went back to the previous night and you couldn’t help but get a little turned on by last night’s memories. Now your eyes lay on his barely covered dick and knowing how sensitive Enzo could be in the morning a spontaneous thought settled in your brain. Time to return the favor.

Filled with anticipation you sit up between his legs and move the sheets so Lorenzo is now fully naked. Gently you reach for his dick stroking and gripping it, instantly you get a reaction and feel him harden in your hands. You lean down and brush your lips against his shaft, earning a soft sound from him signaling you that he’s waking up. You place your lips around his tip and suck on the sensitive skin. Pleasure rushes through your body and you start playing with his dick, sucking and licking as you please. You don’t even notice Enzo’s wide eyes watching you spoil him with an almost pornographic view, leave alone the million sensations you're putting his by now fully hard cock through.

When a filthy moan escapes you while your tongue is working his tip like a lollipop Lorenzo can no longer keep quiet. “Sweetness, please just take it in.” He breathes out with the last bit of air in his lungs as he stares at you, unable to blink. “I’ll hold your hair if you wish?” He whispers with eyes still numb and focused on your tongue lingering on his dick. You nod, Enzo sits up and you simultaneously push your ass up as you open your mouth wide and envelope his hard one slowly. You don’t immediately take all of him, but it still makes his whole body tremble and it takes a while before he reaches for your hair, caressing your skull and keeping your hair from falling in front of your face.

At a focussed pace you bob your head, each time taking a little more of his size. “A good morning to you too, sweetheart.” He manages to say in between shaky breaths and needy moans. This man was perfect to you in every way and you feel a heat building between your legs and if anything Enzo had taught you to embrace your own pleasure, so you don’t hesitate to slip your hand in your panties. As soon as your fingers slip through your folds a whiny moan rolls off your tongue making Enzo go feral. He clenches his jaw for a moment to regain some control over himself.

You try to focus on him but can’t resist digging your fingers a little deeper. When you see Enzo trace your arm with his eyes you feel caught and guilty. “I’m sorry, I got a little needy.” You whisper innocently. “(Y/n), don’t apologize, just continue, you’re gorgeous this way.” His pink cheeks and heaving chest tell you as much as his words. This time you try to take as much of his cock as you can, almost gagging at first try, and moan against him as your fingers again slip between your folds. Lorenzo throws his head back, but his eyes still search your head taking his dick in as you soak your panties. He feels his body shiver and bites his lip to keep himself from making overly pathetic noises. “I’m close.” He moans, encouraging you to work his dick even harder. “I want to cum on your chest.” Lorenzo’s voice is urgent and has a dominant tone to it. When you're slow to react his hands reach for the straps of your nightgown pushing it down. “I want your perked nipples.” With those words he softly tugs your hair and grips his dick, quickly jerking himself to spill over you.

Shamelessly he stares at the mess he’s made. “Continue.” He says, referring to your hand still between your legs. “Please. I so fucking love you. I need this.” He presses his forehead against yours, watching your boobs and your hand like a hungry man, while softly stroking your hair. “I love our mornings.” He whispers with a husky voice, panting as he comes down from his high.

Theodore

You stretch and roll against Theodore, placing a soft kiss on his shoulder but his sleepy figure doesn’t react. You trace your finger over his face, shoulder, chest and abdomen, where you continue to trace small circles until you purse your lips and snake your hand right into his boxers to find what you already expected. His morning wood felt heavenly to you, because it meant you could sneak up on him and wake him the same way he had done. Eagerly you leave your warm spot next to him to settle between his legs, all while gently stroking his dick. Quietly Theodore wakes up and through hooded eyelids he watches you move, before realizing where your hand is working.

When you move his boxers aside and grip his large dick a little harder his eyes flutter wide open and meet yours. He’s a little shocked, but you aren’t phased and a cheeky smile tugs on your lips. “Good morning, Theo. You don’t mind if I help myself, do you?” Your teasingly sweet voice has Theodore swallow hard. Knowing exactly what effect you can have on your sometimes indifferent boyfriend you sensually move down, revealing your cleavage to him. You can feel his hard cock twitch in your hand and Theo’s eyes roll to the back of his head.

With one swift move you slide your tongue down his dick and take his whole length deep in your throat, to then repeat it a second time but slightly harsher. This drives Theodore crazy, making him feel like he’ll faint under your touch. As eagerly and hungerly as he ate out your pussy yesterday you now took, sucked and devoured his precum and saliva covered member. “(Y/n), pretty girl-” An abrupt moan interrupts him as your hand strokes and squeezes his balls, while keeping his dick still deep in your mouth. You look up at him, but he immediately looks away and curses himself, feeling himself getting dangerously close already.

When you move a little too slow to his liking he lifts his hips demanding you take more of him. You comply but Theodore continues to thrust and you continue to move up and down his dick at the same pace. You can’t help but moan with your mouth still full with his cock. Theo can’t decide if it’s those sounds you make or the view of you forcing yourself to take his size at an increasing speed just to please him. Part of him was worried you would get hurt as things kept on getting rougher, but at the same time he was so close there wasn’t much self control left in Theo. “Look at that smart mouth of yours, taking me so well, such a pretty girl.” You continue to let him fuck your mouth and move with him, moaning and drooling. Theodore grits his teeth at your eagerness to take his cock. “You have no idea how hard I’m going to fuck your pussy after this.” Your eyes shoot up to him at his words, remembering the last time his voice was this animalistic. He was going to spread your legs wide and roughly fuck deep into you. Gods, you loved his voice like this.

Your thoughts are interrupted as he suddenly makes a desperate sound and cums against your throat. You pull away and try to swallow most of his load, but still spill some. You’re a bit embarrassed by how much of a mess you are, but Theo grabs your wrist and tugs you towards him, making you fall on his chest. You're both out of breath and close your eyes as pleasure washes over you. His hand strokes your hair. “I’m never letting you go. No way any other man is ever having this.” A soft smile tugs on your lips as you rest on his chest.

Blaise

You snuggle closer to him and his lips brush your forehead, placing a sleepy kiss. “Good morning.” You whisper and he smiles, but is still too sleepy to respond. He rolls to his back and you rest your head on his shoulder, adoring his sleepy face. Soon, enough boredom washes over you as Blaise continues to softly snore and it is then that you come up with the ingenious idea to wake him up the same way he had woken you up only a few days ago. Playfully your tongue rolls over your lips while your joy filled eyes scan down to his boxers. Excitement fills your body to the core as you try to be careful when moving.

Your fingers draw soft circles on his hips and move to the fabric of his boxers. Kissing him just above his boxers to then slowly pull them down. “Baby?” Blaise whispers with a husky voice, while his eyes slowly open and search for you. “I only wanna try what you did.” You lick your lips trying to sound innocent, but your eyes have a devilish glint to it. “Gods.” Blaise groans as he realizes what you’re up to. You notice his dick twitch and see that as an invitation to take his half hard dick in your mouth. You need only a few seconds to get him fully erect and moaning.

You grab his thick cock slightly harder and focus your attention on his tip before flattening your tongue and forcing yourself to take all of him. Blaise’s moans fall silent as his mouth just hangs open, while he feels his orgasm built up. As you taste his precum you move to focus on his tip, hungrily sucking it and swirling your tongue around it. This makes Blaise whimper your name and you move away to pump his dick a few times, watching him get closer with every move. Desperate to taste more of him you bring your lips back to his painfully hard dick dripping with precum and saliva. You start bobbing your head carefully working to take as much of him at a steady pace. “Gods, I want you to taste all of me, thirsty girl.” Blaise breathes out these words filled with lust and dominance and your eyes roll to the back at the sound of his voice.

You were already planning on taking all of his seed, but his words turn you even more desperate for him. With an animalistic groan he shoots his load deep in your mouth and you eagerly swallow. “I love how you taste.” You moan and lick your lips. “Fuck, baby, what a morning.” Blaise groans with a low voice. You smile teasingly and tilt your head. “Too intense for you?” You pout and a smug toothy smile spread on his face. “Someone’s woken up with an attitude.” Blaise grabs your wrist and pulls you harshly onto him to then roll so you're underneath him. “Might need to fuck that attitude out of you.” You bite your lip wondering if you should tease and get fucked hard or play nice and get snuggled instead.

A/N: Be sure to give me feedback about errors or general writing advice.

#slytherin #slytherin boys #theodore nott #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott x reader #enzo berkshire #enzo berkshire imagine #enzo berkshire x reader #blaise zabini #blaise zabini imagine #blaise zabini x reader #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy #papercorgiworldwritings

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happilykrispypirate · 8 months

Text

Bloodstained Petals

Pairings: Mattheo Riddle x fem!reader

Warnings: Swearing, unrequited love, mentions of blood and throwing up, violence, death, and my shitty writing.

Summary: The Hanahaki Disease is a rare disease that causes flowers to grow in the person's lungs. The only way to stop it from killing the person, is to get the one they're in love with, to fall in love with them.

Y/n sighed as she watched as Mattheo make an advance on the girl he's been keen on for the last 2 months.

Theo sighed as he saw the look on the girl's face. He had known about her love for the dickhead since the beginning.

Y/n, you're making things harder for yourself," He finally spoke up.

"What's wrong with me?" She asked the question she's been asking him for years now.

"There's nothing wrong with you, love," Theo said, "He's just a fucking idiot."

Y/n sighed again, looking down at her food, feeling too sick to even think about eating anything.

"I'm going to bed, I'll see you tomorrow at breakfast," She said before getting up and walking out.

"I need the room tonight," Mattheo said when he came back to the table, "Where's Y/n?"

"You're a fucking idiot," Theo said also getting up to try and catch up with her, but she was already gone.

Y/n woke up in the middle of the night, coughing up her lungs. She ran to the bathroom to get her something to drink so that she'd stop coughing.

After downing a glass or two of water, her stomach churned. She quickly bent over the toilet and threw up.

Her heart sank with fear as she saw the blood and the petals. She then started coughing again, more petals.

Next thing she knew she stormed to the Gryffindor common room, ignoring the fat lady's whining about waking her up, and she ran straight to Hermione's room.

"Thank Merlin, you're awake," Y/n said.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked worriedly as she looked at the panicked girl.

As if on cue another coughing fit started and petals landed in het hand.

"Are those?"

"Yeah."

"Oh my God," Hermione said, "You have the Hanahaki Disease."

"You say that like I'm supposed to know what it means," Y/n said as she threw the petals into the bin.

"Hanahaki Disease, is caused by unrequited love."

Y/n stayed silent. She brought this upon herself... falling in love with Mattheo.

"It's very rare. It causes a flower to grow in your lungs. The only way to stop it, is to..."

"Is to what?" Y/n asked, looking at Hermione.

"Is to get the person you're in love with, to fall in love with you. They can't just say I love you, and it'll be gone. They have to actually mean it," She said.

"I'm doomed," Y/n said as she sat down on Hermione's bed.

"Y/n," Hermione said. Her words were cut short when Y/n went into another coughing fit. She patted Y/n on the back, to help in whatever way she can.

Y/n then ran to the bathroom to throw up. Hermione ran after her to hold her hair back.

"We have to get you to Madam Pomfrey," Hermione said.

"No, I don't want anyone else to know about this," Y/n said, "Especially not Mattheo or Theo."

"Y/n if you don't do something, you're going to die," She said.

Y/n didn't answer her...

Over the next few days everyone noticed that she looked a bit sick. Professor McGonagall had sent her to her dorm after she had ran out of the classroom for the third time that lesson.

So, Y/n, just laid there in her bed and stared up at the ceiling. Her room littered with petals.

Theo had tried to come by a few times every day, but she made sure he couldn't come in.

She had Hermione put a charm on her door after Pansy walked in and saw Y/n coughing up petals. Y/n tried to lie her way out of, but Pansy knew immediately what it was. So now, the only people who can enter her dorm, was Pansy and Hermione.

As Y/n laid on her bed, she heard a soft knock on her door. She thought it was Theo, but when the spoke she knew she thought wrong.

Matheo.

"Y/n, I'm just checking in on you. Are you alright?" He was silent for a few moments, "Theo says you won't even let him in."

"Please, I need to know if you're alright," He said, "You're my best friend, I care about you."

The word 'friend' echoed in her mind for the rest of the day. She was only pulled out of her thoughts when she heard Theo yelling at Hermione.

"Why can't I fucking see her?" He yelled.

"Theo, she's not feeling well," Hermione said, "She said she doesn't want to get you sick."

"You and Pansy are in there every day!" He yelled again.

"Hermione," Y/n spoke, her voice raspy. Her throat was raw because of the coughing. She was weak due to the amount of blood she lost and the lack of oxygen.

Hermione's head poked through the door, "Let him in," Y/n said. She knew she didn't have a lot of time left, so she knew she had to tell him.

Hermione nodded, glad that she was finally telling Theo.

Hermione closed the door and lifted her wand. A few moments later, she turned towards Theo and nodded her head towards the door.

Theo didn't hesitate to storm in. He stopped dead in his tracks as he saw how sick his best friend was.

He saw the petals, and immediately knew about what she had and why she had it.

"Holy fuck, love," Theo said as he knelt down next to her.

"Hey Theo," She smiled weakly.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked. Tears were in her eyes; he feared for her life.

"I didn't want to worry you too much," She said.

"You still worried me, love," He said as he took her hand and kissed it.

"I'm sorry," Y/n said, her eyes starting to droop.

"Get some rest, love," Theo said, "I'll be here when you wake up."

Y/n took her hand out of his and placed it on his cheek. A tear fell from his cheek, she wiped it away with her thumb before she closed her eyes.

Theo stayed for a few minutes. He thought, how could someone do this to her.

The anger consumed him. He made sure Y/n was comfortable before he stomped off to find Mattheo.

He found Mattheo with that girl. He pulled him up by the collar and pinned him to the wall.

"You motherfucker, you did this to her. She's dying because of you're fucking selfishness," Theo spat in his face.

"What the fuck man?" Mattheo said, "Who's dying?"

Theo said nothing, he dropped Mattheo on the floor before dragging him to Y/n's dorm.

Theo opened up the door and saw Hermione standing over you. She had her wand out, she was examining you.

"Y/n?" Mattheo said. His heart sank. He saw the blood, the petals. He knew.

It was because of him?

"This is all your fault. She's been in love with you for a long time, but you didn't even bother thinking about her. You made it seem like you love her but then you go after other girls," Theo said.

"I've always loved her. I just thought she didn't love me," Mattheo said.

"It's always been you."

They both looked up and saw that Y/n was looking at them. Or, Mattheo.

Mattheo went over to her, and crouched beside her bed.

"I'm so sorry I did this to you," He said, "I love you, I really do love you."

"I love you too, Mattheo," She said, smiling weakly at him. He leaned forward and planted his lips on hers. Neither of them caring about the blood and tears.

They both pulled away when another coughing fit started. Mattheo placed his hand on her back and rubbed circles.

"Why isn't she better?" Theo asked, "Shouldn't she be cured now?"

"I'm afraid, it's too late," Hermione said as tears ran down her cheeks. Pansy stood to the side, trying not to get lost in the tears.

Both the boys' hearts sank. She looked at them both.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner," She said.

"It's alright, love," Theo said as he too crouched down next to her bed, taking her other hand.

"I'll always be with you," She said, "I love you both."

"No, don't say that, you're not dying," Mattheo said, "I finally got to tell you I love you. You're not leaving me now."

She smiled at him, tears running down her cheeks.

She let go of her last breath.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no," Mattheo begged sobbing. He lifted her up and held her to his chest as he rocked back and forth, sobbing into her hair.

Theo sobbed as he held her hands. His best friend since childhood gone.

Hermione held Pansy as they both cried.

"Don't leave me, please, don't leave me," Mattheo's voice cracked as he begged with every sob.

He blamed himself, he was too late.

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cashmoneyyysstuff · 1 month

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Can you do a scenario of Bakugou aftermath of the manga war right now, cause sense he had so much character development I think he have changed majorly big. And was wondering a bakugou x reader, aftermath after battle. I hope your up to date with the manga rn cause it’s super sad :(

But Mabye a scene of reader x bakugou, he wakes up in hospital and sees her waiting next to him in a chair waiting for him to wake up. And when he does he’s glad to see her alive and asking so many questions ☹️ maybe even a lil romantic vibe at the end ??!??😌

That would be so sweet thank you’!!

this is such a cute request ! i've been thinkin of writing a post war fic lately so thank you for the ask ! i tried to honour your request as best i could, hope you'll like it ! <3

BNHA MANGA SPOILERS !!, fem reader, injuries n blood n stuff, reader cries easily sorry im projecting, katsuki n reader have been together for a while (since before the first internship arc !)(..does this technically qualify as childhood friends to…anyways !), worried reader, worried katsu so its a lil angsty but it's pure fluff no worries !, kissing, katsuki is touchy and cannot pass up skin contact, katsuki is a biter cus i say he is so biting, best jeanist is here!! (and maybe kinda ooc cus idk him like that😭🫶🏾), afo is mentioned and called a ballsack lmfao i hate him, everyone is fine and dandy and healthy(?) cus im a major optimist, lemme know if i missed sum else<3!

it's been three weeks since katsuki's been asleep.

you'd woken up a week and a few days after the war had ended. you don't remember much besides fighting for your life, that of your friends and of the people of japan. you were greeted with the worried, relieved and snotty faces of your classmates. denki and kirishima had basically tackle hugged you and were immediately strictly reprimanded by iida and momo. your limbs hurt like hell but you could ignore it and focus on squeezing your friends for now.

except not everyone was here. you immediately realised katsuki was one of them.

you were horrified to find out from your friends, who were sure this would be your reaction and were refraining from telling you, that katsuki had once again suffered major injuries and had been asleep for a good week now.

your classmates had tried to reassure you, "bakugou's always doin' the impossible, he'll probably be awake and he'll go back to cussin' up a storm before we know it." sero said, trying his best to comfort you. you send him a smile that doesn't fully reach your eyes, but you still appreciate him nonetheless.

since that day you'd gone to visit him everyday. sometimes you'd just stare at his pretty lashes fluttering, wondering when he'd wake up. other times you'd talk to him about your day. it was boring, since you were still healing and still stuck in the hospital, but it was something.

your classmates came to visit too. kirishima comes to visit the most but you assume he’s just here to check up on you and make sure you’re okay. he stays for around an hour, sneaks you some actually edible food then always leaves you with a “don’t push yourself too much, okay !”

you go to visit your other classmates, like izuku who had also taken a major beating, but was just as stubborn as your katsuki when it came to durability. you’re amazed to see how quickly he goes back to his old self, anxiously waving his arms around and telling you he’s completely okay, before promptly wincing and yelping out an “ouch !” when he moves his arm the wrong way. you jokingly warn him not to push himself too much too quickly or you’d mess him up even more than he already was every time you leave.

“i’ll try !” he chuckles, giving you a thumbs up.

you’d also met best jeanist recently, who had come to visit your boyfriend one day while you were also there. he told you that katsuki had talked about you once and that, in best jeanist’s words he seemed to be very enamored with you. you couldn’t help the way you shyly looked down at the ground, letting out a flustered chuckle and you thought you heard best jeanist laugh underneath his long, long turtleneck.

you’re currently sitting by katsuki’s bedside for the fourth monday in a row, smiling to yourself as you watch him sleep. you wonder if he’s dreaming about anything. despite the fact you looked it up and people can’t exactly dream while they’re in a coma, but you like to think he’s just asleep and having a very nice dream. the thought makes you happy, but it also makes a knot grow in your throat.

“i do hope you're having nice dreams, but i also hope you wake up soon." you whisper lovingly, brushing some hair out of his face. you run your finger along his nose bridge and cheek, usually he wouldn't be able to take soft touches like this for more than 10 seconds before getting embarrassed and pushing your hands away, trying to distract you from his beet red cheeks. you let out a watery giggle at the memory.

your throat starts feeling a little dry and as much as you don't want to leave katsuki, you figured you wouldn't miss much if you were only gone for a few minutes. you press a quick kiss to his forehead and before you get up to leave the room you look back at him once more time. only to see something strange, his eyelashes flutter more than usual, then his eyebrows furrow,

and then his eyes open.

he blinks groggily once, then twice. he tries to reach up and rub at his eye but the bandage on his arm won't allow him to and he winces. he realizes someone is in his room after a second, slowly looking up as if in slow motion. but then his movements fast forward when he realizes it's you in his room.

his eyes widen and he practically jumps up. hastily sitting up and leaning against the railing of his bed towards you

"yn—fuck !" but he seems to have underestimated how serious his injuries were in the moment. he doubles over and hisses in pain. the noise kickstarts you and immediatly you're in motion. you rush over to him, softly but urgently grabbing his shoulders you softly push him back against his pillows, he groans as you do. "don't sit up so quickly !" you fret "just lay down—"

he grabs your arm with his somewhat okay one tightly as soon as you make contact, "are you—fuck—are you okay ?" he asks breathlessly, his eyes urgently search around on your face and he frowns slightly as he scans over your light scratches. " fuck, i passed out before i could get to check up on you.." his eyebrows furrow even harder, mad at himself for not being able to watch over you.

he lifts his not so injured hand up just slightly and you lower your head so he can place it against your cheek. he rubs over it slowly "yer not hurt, are ya ? i mean—fuck, you are, but—"

"katsu.." you smile, already shushing him.

"nothing broken ?" he starts up again, prodding at every body part he can reach. you giggle lightly. "yer all bandaged up. swear i'll find the bastards who did this shit to you."

"i already dealt with them, so you don't need to worry about that." you chuckle. he copies you, his movements slow down the slightest bit and he chuckes slightly and you've missed that sound so much your heart squeezes.

“yeah, course you did..” he sighs, eyes shining brighter than usual and you suspect he’s tearing up a little when he swiftly looks away from you to wipe at his face, you don’t comment on it cus you could feel tears welling up in your eyes as well.

he tsks at the mostly okay, but still injured, arm against his face before pulling it back glaring at it, “this shit’s a real pain.” he mutters angrily, sucking his teeth.

you spring into action again, like a toy starting up when you wind it “don’t move it so much, you messed it up really badly during the fight !” you both notice how you flinch back when you instinctively go to grab his hand, then reach forward once more and barely grab his hand to guide it towards his lap, and then his body towards the pillows behind him again. katsuki’s eyebrows furrow at your ghost like touch.

he doesn’t say a word as you ramble and simply stares at you. you’d noticed he hadn’t even put up a fight when you’d pushed him back down onto his bed, but you were more worried about his well being rather than his behavior. but now you start to get a little bit worried at his lack of reaction, you place your hand on his chest softly, afraid to hurt him "wait just a sec, i'll go get a nur—"

"no." you let out a surprised sound when he grabs your hand. he stares straight into your eyes, and the bright red shine in them is such a huge contrast to them being closed for so long it almost knocks the wind out of you.

he vehemently shakes his head "i don't need none of that."

"katsuki, you need—"

"no i don't." he says stubbornly, you don't know if you're happy or not that he seems to be just as stubborn as before everything happened. it's a relief, sure, but it's starting to annoy you a bit. you want to fire back but he cuts you off "i don't need a nurse. need you." he mutters into your hand he had brung up to his lips to speak his last sentence against.

it’s only a light press of his lips against your skin but it sends chills down your spine. he does it again, red eyes fixed onto you to bring his point across. you suck in a harsh breath, then sigh in defeat.

"okay.." you sigh. "but we still have to get a nurse later." he grunts into your hand in begrudged agreement, "later." he mutters.

once he's gotten his feel of you, he slowly lifts his head up to look at you. he shuffles around in bed until he's sitting up a little straighter, waving you off when you sit up to help when he winces slightly.

he reaches for you and tugs at your arm lightly, as if he wanted you to sit closer to him. you happily oblige, scooting a little closer until you're leaning infront of him. he grumbles, obviously unhappy about something.

"come over here." he whines petutalanty.

you giggle at his childish demand "katsuki, no. you're very hurt and i don't wanna make you feel worse if i accidently push at something too hard. we can cuddle all you want when you get checked up." you explain. he’s obviously unhappy about that, rolling his eyes accompanied by a huff.

just like he usually would. you feel your eyes burn but your chest feels lighter and lighter the more you realize he’s here. your holding his hand and he’s holding it back, you’re looking at him and he at you.

it’s your katsuki.

“that’s bullshit, m’perfectly fine.” he scoffs.

you give him a once over, raising a brow for good measure “right.” you laugh when he scoffs again, but he can’t hide the smirk growing on his face at the sound.

it’s your katsuki, alright.

it’s quiet while you’re just indulging in each other’s company, the worry in your stomach gnawing at you every day he wouldn’t open his eyes these past few weeks finally washing away as you look at him lovingly when he closes his eyes and sighs against your skin.

“stop starin’.” he complains against your hand he still had in a tight grip, cheeks turning red. it seems like he doesn’t want to let go of it any time soon and doesn’t have any plans to as he bring it up to his mouth to bite you. you struggle and squeezes at his nose with a grin.

“hey, is it so bad to wanna look at my boyfriend that he’d been sleeping every day up until now ?” you make it sound like a joke, but your smile falters slightly and katsuki realizes. his eyes widen slightly.

"how..how long was i out for ?" his voice is still clouded with sleep even now. you plop back down onto your chair, dragged closer to him now “about three weeks.” you mutter, sad smile on your face and eyes downcast.

neither of you say anything for a moment and you’re quickly reminded of the quiet you’d gotten used to when he was still asleep. you don't like it and you want to fill the silence but you don't know what to say. katsuki doesn't respond and keeps looking at your expression, blinking slowly, like he does when he's trying to discern how you feel. he's annoyingly perceptive and you feel yourself get flustered by his gaze.

"now who's the one staring.." you mutter shyly, eyes drifting towards the floor to close him off of your mind with those all seeing eyes of his. you can tell he's seen through you, but it's worth a try anyway.

he reaches and tugs at your chair leg for you to scoot closer somehow. once, then twice harder when you don't make any move to listen to him. he grunts and you worry he'll hurt himself like he always end up doing when he’s not being careful, so you lean your face closer to him. you'd stare at him at all day like this if you could but your eyes won't look in his properly before they're shooting back towards the floor, katsuki huffs a breath of laughter onto your cheek.

"m'not allowed to look at my girlfriend after bein' passed the fuck out for three weeks ?" he smirks his eyes are soft even when he gruffs a mean laugh when he reaches up to pinch your nose back and you grumble at him, softly patting at his hand to shoo him away with a smile you try to hold back. he pokes at your cheek, you go to shoo and scold him but he surprises you by softly placing his hand against your cheek.

“was worried about you, you know.”

your eyes widen and your mouth drops open slightly at his sincerity. your heart warms and you can't stop the tears blurring your vision anymore. you clamp your mouth shut so as not to sob, but your bottom lip wobbles and katsuki huffs again.

"was thinkin 'bout you the whole time. hate that creepy ballsack head,” he grumbles bitterly “kept me from seein' my girl." he smiles when you let out a watery snort. you grab ahold of the hand on your face, running your thumb across the rough skin.

"i heard you really did a number on him."

"course i did. fuckin' decimated the fucker." he boasts and you laugh loudly. "made him cry like a baby. literally." he adds, you raise a brow in question but he simply shakes his again, as if telling you not to worry about it.

you don't question it and simply sigh against his hand happily, it feels nice to feel him again. "the others are gonna be happy to see you up. kiri's been coming to visit you every day. and i've forbidden izuku from getting out of bed, but he asks about you all the time."

katsuki scoffs, thumb slowling down in its movements "damn deku.. he better not think he's hot shit cus he woke up before me." you snort loudly at that, shaking your head at his childish antics.

"good he's not runnin' around. he'd probably end up breaking more of his bones by himself."

"that's what i said !" you giggle, and katsuki snorts. you missed hearing him. you missed him so much, you reach a hand up and wipe at your still wet eyes, katsuki grabs at that hand to wipe at your tears for you.

"was worried about you too, katsu." you sniffle "when i heard you got yourself hurt bad again i just—i got really scared.”

your boyfriend's eyebrows furrow sorrowfully and he wishes his body wasn't so weak so he could wrap you up in his arm and feel you close, never let you go. but his hand against your wet cheek will have to do for now.

but katsuki is a creature of habit, so he speaks "come over here." he whispers.

you lean in a small distance at first, not really sure of what he wanted you to do. katsuki grunts but when you get close enough he reaches for the back of your head and pulls you in, pressing his lips to yours.

and it's everything. soft yet his grip on you is firm, slow yet urgent when you grab the front of his hospital clothes and he huffs against you when he shoves his tongue into your mouth with a soft groan. eyebrows furrowing in focus to handle his breathing because he doesn't want to pull away.

not yet.

you're first to pull away but he doesn't let you go far, immediately swooping in for another kiss, this one just as- if not more urgent-than the first. you softly run your hands through his soft locks and try to memorize the feeling like you hadn't been touching it everyday for the past three weeks. it feels different now.

not yet.

finally, you pull away even after katsuki chases your lips with a pout. you giggle and tug at his hair and he huffs at you, and leans forward to bite at the tip of your nose.

"katsuki !" you squeal flying back to wipe at your nose.

“don’t katsuki me” he chuckles, cheeks dusted pink. from the lack of oxygen just a moment ago or from embarrassment you don’t know, “ ‘ts your own fault, dumbass.”

you scrunch your nose and stick your tongue out at him and he snickers again. you’d missed that sound. you’d missed his laugh, and his stupid nicknames and his voice, the way he says your name and his eyes and his smile.

“i missed you.” you breathe, smiling at him with what you know can only be called heart eyes. katsuki blinks at you, turning red to the tips of his ears. he looks away but reaches for your hand, you give it to him and he presses his lips to the back of your hand.

“missed you too. really did.” he mutters.

this is the most embarrassed you’ve seen him and the sincerest at the same time, you commit the image to memory as your stomach flutters and your heart beats for him. and his for you. you can feel it in the way his hand steadily gets warmer, the way he closes his eyes and breathes you. in the way he kisses each of your fingertips and finishes it off with a bite to each to make you laugh.

you both know a lot of things still need to happen but they can wait for now. for now, his heart is here, beating with yours. your katsuki is awake and back where he’s supposed to be.

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