#like. i don't think that some of you actually like him. you weren't supposed to agree with him when he was self-deprecating. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dramaticals · 5 months

Text

following instructions

pairing: theodore nott x gryffindor reader

summary: enemies with benefits with theo where they're constantly insulting each other but they still can't get enough. smut. au where characters at hogwarts are aged up to be 19+. mdni. / requested by anonymous.

author's note: co-wrote this with lily (@softeliza) <3 we honestly wrote this as a theo x hermione, but swapped hermione for reader

✧ read part two: following instructions (headcanons) ✧

Theo's judging eyes watch as you dice the sopophorous bean before tossing it into your cauldron, your gaze shifting between your opened textbook and your cauldron. A bead of sweat drips from your forehead. You were meticulously following the directions, and yet something still didn't seem right about your potion.

Theo scoffs, shaking his head. What an idiot, he thinks.

"You're supposed to crush it." Theo says, demonstrating pointedly with a silver dagger and popping the squashed bean into his own cauldron. The cauldron bubbles, and the liquid shifts a shade darker.

"You're supposed to follow the instructions, which clearly say to cut it," you say through gritted teeth.

Potions was the one class Theo never followed the directions for, and yet he always seemed to be doing significantly better than you. You hated that.

"You know," you add with a huff, annoyance laced in your words. "Just because you don't respect the rules any other time doesn't mean you shouldn't follow a simple recipe."

There was something about pissing you off that gave Theo the right amount of joy to get him through the day. Hearing you huff at his words was like finding a jelly slug in a mountain of acid pops. It was glorious.

"Do you believe everything you read?" Theo asks mockingly, his eyes unmoving from the cauldron in front of him. He doesn't know why he was helping you—this was meant to be a competition for the coveted felix felicis. Maybe it was because Theo knew you weren't going to listen to him anyway. "Besides, I respect the rules." Theo says, but even he can't keep a straight face at his claim, his lips tugging into a smirk.

"I believe everything I read in a textbook," you say, your eyes narrowing and your mouth falling open in shock. Was he serious? "You know, that book of words that literally outlines how to make the potion? How else would you know how to brew it?" You hope he doesn't notice the genuine curiosity in your question. You actually wanted to know how Theo knew what to do all the time. It was so infuriating.

"Natural intelligence and charm." Theo says coolly.

In actuality, Theo had managed to find a textbook filled with inscriptions, correcting the printed text with tips and tricks on how to brew a potion every time. But he wasn't going to tell you that. Theo would gladly and happily let you believe he was gifted.

Theo peeks at your cauldron and has to hold a snort back. It looked just about ready to implode.

"This is a simple recipe, huh?" Theo muses. "Is that why your potion looks and smells like absolute shit?"

"Maybe I just thought I'd throw you a scrap with this one. I mean, we both know you're in desperate need of some luck, especially on the Quidditch pitch. If anyone needs this win, it's you."

"Oh, so you watch me on the pitch, do you?" Theo says with a smug grin.

You roll your eyes. Curse him.

Theo stirs counterclockwise a few times and then once again clockwise. The potion bubbles again. This time, it shifts into its final colour form. Bingo.

Theo, with an expression beaming with pride, calls over Professor Slughorn to inspect the potion. You zero in on Theo's cauldron and let out a small sigh. You didn't need confirmation from Slughorn to know that Theo did it. That bloody asshole did it.

Slughorn tosses a single leaf into the cauldron. The leaf disintegrates, and Slughorn clasps his hands together and announces, "We have a winner! Class dismissed!"

As Theo receives congratulations from all around, you begin to tidy your workspace, empty your cauldron, and pack your things. Anger boils in your stomach. As much as you tried to avert your gaze from Theo, your eyes are drawn to the tiny vile Slughorn passes to Theo. With a triumphant smirk thrown your way, he tucks the potion into his pocket before cleaning his workspace.

"Try to use it for something other than trying to sleep with girls," you quip, clutching your books to your chest. The confident, holier-than-thou persona slips over you like a glove. It was a default shield whenever you felt threatened, especially academically. And Theo was often on the receiving end of it all. "I mean, I'm sure you could use some luck in that department, but I doubt that's what Zygmunt Budge had in mind."

"I'm doing quite well in that department, actually." Theo says. With looks and an attitude like his, girls were flocking to him like nifflers to gold. "Much like potions, really. They all just come to me."

Theo awaits your signature glare and snarky remark, but he was simply met with a silent shove to his shoulder as you headed to the door. His brows furrow, disappointed in the lack of repartee, before Theo's walking after you. He falls into step with you, following you through the dimly lit corridors of the dungeon.

"What's the rush, little lion? Can't stomach losing?"

"I'm not in a rush; I just don't want to be around you. Don't you have some dingy hole to crawl back into?" You fume, your grip on your textbooks tightens, and your pace quickens.

"You wound me." Theo simpers, clutching his chest in mock-hurt.

Being in Theo's presence was getting you more and more riled up. You felt like you were minutes away from becoming a human version of a Filibuster Firework. Theo loved when you got like this. He can't quite pinpoint the exact moment he realized why he liked seeing you so worked up, but he's quickly reminded by the staggered breathing and the rapid rise and fall of your chest.

Theo continues to stroll alongside you, an air of arrogance in each step he takes. You quickly realize you have no idea where you're headed. The echoing of both your steps, coupled with the hovering nuisance on your side, makes you let out a sharp, frustrated exhale. You turn to Theo, glaring daggers into his stormy eyes.

"Can you just go? You're so—ugh." You growl, unable to find the proper words.

Theo's brows perk upward. There's something familiar about the expression you give him. He'd seen it before. Last time he'd seen it, the two of you ended up christening the boy's change room after a Quidditch match—Slytherin should beat Gryffindor more often.

Before you can articulate your frustrations, Theo grabs you by the wrist and pulls you into a vacant classroom. The feeling of his fingers around your wrist sends a jolt of warmth straight through your body. Theo pins you against the door, your books falling to the floor with a sharp thud. He skillfully locks the door with a slight flick of his wand before muttering the muffliato charm and putting his wand away. Darkened eyes meet your gaze, a mixture of amusement and want in his eyes.

"I'm so what?" Theo demands. His hand caresses your cheek before roughly wrapping around the base of your throat. "Use your words."

Your mind goes hazy, as if you've been confunded, the moment you feel his hand on your throat. You'd never admit how much you loved when Theo did that.

With a shaky breath, you meet his intense gaze to say, "Infuriating."

The way you reacted to Theo's touch was unlike any other girl he had the pleasure of fucking at Hogwarts. You were just so obvious, and Theo had no shame in admitting that he found it all extremely arousing. Of course, your mouth would claim otherwise, but Theo always had a plan to occupy your pretty little mouth.

You bite down on your lip, stifling the whimper begging to escape. Your breathing is in sync with each other, and the sexual tension makes the air around you thick.

"Are you going to fix it? Or are you just going to stand there like an idiot?" You tempt, leaning up slightly, just to see if he'll close the gap between your lips and his.

"I don't know," Theo responds, keeping a fair distance—only enough for your lips to brush lightly against his. To keep you wanting. Theo leans into your neck, ghosting breathy, teasing kisses up until he's milimeters away from your ear. "Are you going to say please?"

"You've got to be kidding," you huff, shooting a glare at Theo as you try to keep your breathing steady.

You weren't exactly experienced, at least not like Theo. You had a few moments with others, but no one had ever gotten you to feel as good as Theo did. It enraged you that Theo knew how good he made you feel, but you also took pleasure in knowing that you must be riling him up just as equally because Theo always seemed to come crawling back.

You bring your free hand up, tangling your fingers in his lush, brown locks, before tugging his head back a bit so he could look at you. He groans at this. It was one of many acts that really got Theo going, and it just so happened to be where your hands gravitated to the most.

"Please," you say, the tiniest of smirks on your lips.

Anticipation runs through your veins. You didn't need to say anything else. By the way he was looking at you, his lustful eyes boring into your gaze, Theo knew you needed him right now.

"Good girl," he muses with a cocky grin.

The first time Theo had praised you like that, while laced with ridicule, it had elicited a whimper that had him reeling. Today was no different.

Theo moves his hand from your throat and down to your waist, expertly pulling you away from the door and onto the desks behind him. Theo wastes no time and captures your lips with his. One hand finds your thigh, teasing up your bare skin and under your skirt. Your hands find and tug at his belt. Theo unbuckles it and tosses it aside.

"Let's see if you can keep it up." Theo says hotly against your lips.

It was in your nature to be good. But with Theo, there was that bubbling voice inside you that beckoned you to misbehave—to get under his skin. To be bad, all so he could teach you a lesson. Which is why, as Theo plants nippy, wet kisses down your neck, you can't help the words that blurt out of your mouth.

"Let's see if you can make me shake, like—what was that bloke's name..." You trail off, pulling him up by the collar of his shirt for another kiss and wrapping your legs around his waist to keep him close.

There was no other guy, of course, but you wanted him to think otherwise. The mischievous glint in your eyes changes to amusement as Theo's eyes darken. His fingers drag possessively across the insides of your thighs. It was hard for Theo to imagine you with someone else. You two weren't exclusive by any means, but the way you'd whimper and dig your nails into his back had him feeling territorial.

"Shake?" Theo asks against your lips. There was a tinge of something in his tone, and, deep down, you wanted it to be jealousy. "I'll fucking make you shake."

Feverish kisses move down your neck, eliciting a whine out of you, his free hands taking residence on the base of your throat. He plants open-mouthed kisses down the sensitive spots along your neck, sucking softly on the skin, surely leaving a mark everyone would be able to see. Theo pulls back to admire his work. He's pleased. You, on the other hand, were equal parts excited and annoyed. Excited because the sensation made the blood rush to your cheeks and to your core, and annoyed because you had to explain the markings to your friends.

"Theo," you hiss. "You know better."

Theo doesn't listen, obviously. Instead, he moves down your body until he's crouched and face-to-cunt. Slender fingers reach under your skirt, hook onto your panties, and slide the garment off. In an instant, Theo's between your legs, lapping his tongue relentlessly over your clit.

"Oh my god," you gasp, one hand grasping onto the edge of the desk, your back arching instinctively to bring yourself closer to his tongue. Your free hand finds his hair again, your hips rolling to meet his movements.

Theo's smirks into your core, a low groan escaping his lips as he feels you roll onto his mouth. Strong hands position themselves on either leg, urging you to spread your legs wider. You try to obey his silent requests, but it's not enough. Impatience hits him hard, and he's repositioning your legs so they're slung over his shoulders, a firm hand pushing your hips down onto the wooden desk. The new position allowed him to be flush against you, his tongue circling your entrance and lapping up any arousal.

"Theo," you moan, louder than normal.

You could tell he was pissed. It'd always been your goal, especially in intimate settings, but Theo had never been like this. He buries his face between your legs, his nose rubbing against your clit as his tongue works on your opening. He dips a finger in and withdraws it out of you slowly, contrasting his unyielding tongue. Your eyes flutter shut with pleasure.

"More," you choke out. "Please, give me more."

Your moans were fueling the already raging fire in him. Fuck, he needed to hear more of that. Theo uses his free hand to hold you steady, his tongue and lips unrelenting. He adds another digit inside of you, curling his fingers against your spot. Theo wanted to make you cum now more than ever. He wanted you to remember that even if you were fucking someone else, he was the only one who could make you unravel like this.

"Sit fucking still then," he growled against your slit, stormy eyes shooting up to look at you.

You fight hard to listen to him, desperately trying not to squirm. Theo was cruel enough to stop and leave you high and dry, so it was in your best interest to do as instructed. You dig your nails into the edge of the desk in an attempt to keep your focus on something other than the pleasure growing inside of you.

"Th-Theo," you gasp. "I—"

You're close, and you know what Theo wants—what he always wants. Theo wanted you to ask for permission, and with the image of someone else messing with you fresh in his mind, Theo needed to know he had that control over you now more than ever. Breathy pants fill the room, and you fear you can't hold it back any longer.

"Fuck, please. Can I please..." You moan, throwing your head back against the desk.

"Please what?" Theo says roughly against you. If Theo's cock wasn't already erect, it would be now. Your moans and gasps of pleasure were truly something that needed to be studied. Who knew these delightfully ragged breaths could come out of someone so irritatingly uptight? "Words, Y/L/N."

The fog of pleasure Theo has you in has made it impossible for you to do the one thing you pride yourself on: following the instructions. Typically, Theo would remove himself and make you beg for contact. Today, though, his actions were ceaseless. Despite your strong will to be good, your body wouldn't cooperate.

"Oh my god," you whimper, your back arching as an intense orgasm washes over you. Your body jerks—no, shakes—and your moans are broken up by desperate gasps as wave after wave hits you.

Theo curses under his breath. As pissed as he was that you didn't ask, Theo graciously allows you to release on his tongue, lapping up your sweet fluids. He'd reprimand you later. As you come down from your high, your body collapses onto the desk. You've never felt anything like that before.

Theo stands and slides his fingers out of you slowly. His darkened, lustful eyes are trained on yours. As much as he enjoyed the view, Theo wasn't happy.

"Don't," you breathe. "I know—I should have... I know."

"So much for following instructions," Theo says, disregarding your words. He licks your arousal off his fingers casually, and the sight makes you shift and clench your thighs together. He was the hottest irritant you've ever seen.

"Fuck off," you say with an exasperated huff. You prop yourself up by your elbows, slowly moving into a sitting position. "You didn't exactly help the situation."

So maybe Theo was being a bit of a prick. Not like he could help it—you squirming and moaning for him like that triggered something primal in him. Theo didn't want to stop; he wanted to make you scream for him. Still, it really shouldn't have been hard to ask.

By the way Theo was looking at you, you could tell it would take more than a crass brush-off to wipe the icy glare and pouted lips from his expression. Delicate fingers grip onto Theo's shirt, tugging him closer to you. You ghost your lips against his, meeting his steely gaze. "Will you let me make it up to you?"

You don't wait for a response. Instead, you nip at his bottom lip before pulling him in for a slow, deep kiss. Despite his annoyance, Theo kisses back, placing a strong hand behind your neck to keep you in place. The kiss is full of passion, anger, and need.

You maneuver yourself off the desk, unbreaking the hot kiss, as you reposition so that Theo's the one against the desk. He acknowledges you taking charge, and he allows it because, quite frankly, whenever you did take charge, Theo found it extremely intoxicating.

Only now do you break the kiss, peering up at Theo as your hands fumble with his pants. He kicks them off just as you remove your own top, making a point of leaving your bra intact. Theo's breath catches. God, he wanted to bury his face between the valley of your breasts.

"So?" You ask again, a devilish smirk on your lips, your fingers making progress on unbuttoning his collared shirt. "Will you?"

"Go on, then." Theo says. It's not lost on him how much leniency he gives you—not just in this moment. Any other girl who disobeyed his instructions would have been tossed aside so he could move on to the next. But with you, as vexing as you were, you also very much intrigued him.

At his permission, you lightly push him back so he's sitting on the desk, giving him a much comfortable position to watch as you slowly unhook your bra, letting the garment fall to the floor. You can sense his probing eyes on you, and you can't help the sly smile that appears as you straddle him, one leg on each side of him.

Theo's hands find your waist immediately, slowly sliding up your sides, to your bare back, and then to your front. He squeezes your breasts, eliciting a breathy moan from you. Your skin was soft under his rough hands.

"And I thought you were going to let that ego of yours make a horrible choice for the both of us." You tease.

Theo's too enamoured with this new position (and view) to respond to your jests. One hand rests firmly on your jaw as he pulls you in for a kiss, his teeth grazing your bottom lip. Meanwhile, your hand moves to stroke his length, feeling Theo grow even harder at your touch.

"Shit," Theo groans.

"Someone's missed me," you whisper against his lips. Your thumb teases the tip of his cock, evoking a slight twitch out of him.

"God, shut up."

Theo wanted nothing more than to wipe—no, fuck—that smug expression on your face. And he's just about ready to take matters into his own hands, but you beat him to it.

Still wet from your previous orgasm, you were beyond ready to have Theo inside you. You lift yourself up slightly, guiding him to your entrance. He bites back a groan, his hands gripping your waist. You lock gazes as you slowly lower yourself onto him, your mouth falling open in a glorious 'o' shape as you take all of him into you.

While this wasn't the first time you had Theodore Nott resting deeply in your cunt, you took a moment to adjust.

"Are you going to move, or what?" Theo growls impatiently, bucking his hips and roughly nipping at the soft skin on your neck.

His impatience makes you smirk.

"Hey," you say, with a wry smile. You snake your fingers up to his hair, tugging his head back slightly to give you room to trail a path of kisses along his neck. You were going to prolong this and make you both ache for more. You didn't want to be the only one who was a moaning mess today. "If I'm making it up to you, then it's my rules."

"You know I don't give a shit about rules."

"Too bad."

This makes Theo's jaw clench. Before he can utter another quip, you're rolling your hips, feeling him embedded inside you. The movement feels good, but you know it's not enough for either of you just yet.

"God, I'm thankful your ego isn't the only thing that's big," you moan against his ear.

This makes Theo's jaw clench. You hear a string of curse words in another language, something you've noticed Theo does in moments where his brain had short-circuited. Enough sense, it seems, is knocked back into him as you can understand the breathless words, "And you take me so fucking well."

Theo's lips find the top of your chest, kissing down feverishly. His tongue flicks expertly against your right nipple as his hand moves to grip your bare ass from under your skirt. You arch into him, letting out a sharp gasp at the dual sensation. Despite his sentiment about rules, Theo lets you control the pace. He holds back the strong desire to thrust upwards into you, to fuck you hard.

"Oh, Theo," you whine as you continue to roll your hips. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and lift yourself up, almost completely off his dick. Ghosting your lips against his, you push yourself back down—hard—feeling him go even deeper. You repeat these movements, your moans growing louder.

Theo can't stop the thoughts of how gorgeous you looked from clouding his mind. You weren't bad to look at normally, but seeing you fuck yourself with his cock had to be one of the wonders of the world. Only if that were a reality, Theo's not sure he could stand anyone else ogling you like this.

"Yes, that... that feels good." Theo groans, his cock throbbing from your movements.

You press your forehead against his, your eyes locking with his as you continue. One of the things Theo liked most about this little arrangement was your unnerving ability to keep eye contact—there was nothing more sexy than seeing the woman you were pleasuring crumble. Eyes can tell you everything.

"I'm trying to—" you breathe, rocking yourself against him. The movement wasn't nearly fast enough, but the way you were moving had him reaching depths you didn't know were attainable. "—to be good."

"Are you?" Theo asks between pants, squeezing your ass roughly. He leans into your lips. "Can you be a good girl for me now?"

You give him a small nod, your eyes fluttering shut for a moment. Your breath is quavering as you try to speak; your eyes re-lock onto his. "Am I not being good for you?"

This makes him chuckle darkly. Theo wasn't an idiot. He knew you practically yearned for his words of praise. The knowledge was something he took advantage of from time to time, withholding and dangling his praise in front of you just to see how far you'd go to make him say it.

To prove to Theo you were being good, you push yourself down onto him roughly, a whimper escaping your lips. You increase your speed, unable to hold out anymore, fucking yourself hard, deep, and fast on his cock.

"Fuck." Theo swears, and he can't help himself now. Hands keep you in place as he fucks up into you, cock hitting your spot repeatedly and mercilessly. He relishes the feeling of your wet core around him. Your clit presses against his pelvis at each thrust.

You took pleasure (literally and figuratively) in Theo's natural ability in knowing. He knew what to say, how to touch you so you were melting, and when to take back control. His hands digging into your hips told you everything you needed to know: Theo was going to fuck you senseless.

"I want to be good," you pant, your nails digging into his back, grasping for a release.

"Then you know what I want to hear."

He holds you flush against him, arms wrapping around you as he continues to thrust. He can feel his own pleasure grow. Your head falls onto his shoulder as you feel it building up in your stomach again. This time, you weren't going to wait until it was too late.

"Theo, please," you practically beg. Theo was the only person who'd ever make you feel like this, and you were past the point of caring whether he knew it too. "Can I cum, please? For you."

"Yes," Theo hisses. He was close too. "Cum for me. Now."

Your orgasm hits you hard and fast, your head falling back as you drag your nails into his skin. Theo continues to thrust up sharply, chasing the high for the both of you. You clench around his length, the sensation mixed with your moans pushing Theo over the edge.

"That's my good girl."

Theo's praise for you was not lost in the chorus of breathy moans and grunts of pleasure. His addition of the word 'my' made you shake even more as another wave of pleasure washes over you.

"Oh, God, yes, Theo."

His hand moves to the back of your neck desperately, guiding you into him for a passionate kiss as he spills into you with a moan.

Ragged breaths fill the room. There was always a moment of limbo after every encounter—a moment where the two of you stayed entangled and nestled with each other, savouring the proximity and stealing last, sweet kisses. You knew the moment you got up, the two of you would go back to despising each other again, until next time.

"So?" Theo asks after a moment, expectant of an answer, as if you could read his mind. "That dumb git you mentioned earlier. Was he better than me?"

His question makes you smirk, and you have to bite it back so as not to show how content you were that he had lingered on that thought.

"You don't want me to answer that," you say, giving him a small pat on the shoulder before getting up. You slip back into your clothes and adjust your hair.

The answer should have been obvious to Theo, but you weren't giving him the satisfaction of admitting it because it did nothing for your reality. This was as far as this would go. Theodore Nott was a pretentious asshole who just so happened to be a good fuck. There was never going to be more than that.

"You definitely exceeded expectations today, Theo," you say, gathering your books from the floor. "But you didn't do anything worth an outstanding."

With a swift flick of your wand, you unlock the door and leave Theo in the vacant classroom, already fantasizing about next time.

#if you squint this is theo x ravenclaw reader #theodore nott smut #theo nott smutt #theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott fanfic #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theo nott x y/n #theo nott x you #theodore nott x you #theodore nott #theo nott #*writing

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chuluoyi · 6 months

Text

✎ attraction

- gojo satoru x reader

to think it started with your crush on his best friend...

genre: high school!gojo being a menace, jealous!gojo but he doesn’t realize it? enemies to lovers, fluff, gojo begins pining on you

note: thank you anon who asks for gojo falling in love with a first year! i added some spice though haha

a part of gojo's love entries

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

Back in 2006—

There was this tiny weeny part of Gojo that was like... questioning, how did his best friend Geto Suguru catch your eye, whereas he didn’t? Like, at all?

"I want Geto."

"Hah?" Gojo arched a righteous brow, swiftly turning your way—feeling the stings of irritation gnawing at him. "What?"

You shot him a look. “I said, you suck and I’m lamenting that I’m paired with you instead of Geto for this mission.”

Once upon a time, you did hate him for obvious reasons as other people do. He was obnoxious, boastful and overall grating on your nerves.

Well, actually, “hate” would be too strong of a word, so probably “dislike greatly” it is.

“Ehh, Suguru? With you?” Gojo glanced at you, purposefully scrunching his face into a mocking sneer. “No way. Absolutely not. Incompatible. I won’t give him my blessings.”

“Who are you to grant blessings?” you hissed with a bulging vein of frustration. “And no, it's not what you think! I—” you wanted to kick yourself for stumbling over your words, “—I just respect him in a way an underclassman would!”

Gojo let out a strained laugh.

To him, you were this cute little junior who looked funny when mad. Riling you up was on his daily to-do list, and poking fun at your obvious crush on his best friend was supposed to double the fun, until it made him wonder despite himself... just what exactly did Suguru have that he apparently lacked, leading you to always follow him with your eyes, whereas you spared him with nothing but glares and sharp retorts?

You didn’t exactly hide your feelings. Whenever Geto was nearby or greeted you in the mornings, you'd blush like a tomato. It was silly, because Gojo was sure his best friend’s type wasn’t a girl as skittish as you—surely, it must be someone as vivacious as Inoue Waka.

He knew you were doomed to fail.

"I suggest you go pick up some slack," he teased. "Better if you don't become a dead weight while assisting him in missions, no?"

He knows. Really.

"...do you know that there are only three things I can't stand here?"

"And those are?"

But...

"Your stupid glasses, your Limitless—and you."

He was still irked, regardless.

"Well, poor you, then," he shrugged, shit-eating grin on his face. This time he pushed his luck. "Do you know that you're nowhere nearing Suguru's type?"

Scratch that. You hate him. You turned to him with a reddened face, and it wasn't because you were blushing.

"I'm going by myself!" you declared, seething. "I couldn't care less about what you're about to do—I'm finishing this and going home!"

With that, you you marched towards the haunted house, paying no heed to his taunts behind you.

You felt a wave of embarrassment washing over. Gojo always messed with you and normally you would chalk it up as one of his shits—but this time, you didn't appreciate how he touched on that sore spot of your not-so-hidden infatuation with Geto. So what if you weren't his ideal type? He didn't have to be mean!

But soon you regretted leaving his side, as a monstrous cursed spirit quickly chased you out.

Gojo was still outside, bidding his time. He merely huffed when he heard you screaming in fear.

He was ready with a jab. "Well, well... Look who's running back into my arms—"

But his smirk quickly fell when he saw the cursed entity was apparently way beyond your level. You ran out—no, by some idiotic impulse of survival, you actually leapt out of the two-story window and almost fell flat on your face and broke your bones, but before then, he sprung to action, catching you, wrapping one arm on your waist.

You were grateful you that you weren't doomed—until you felt yourself dangling mid air in his hold... like a cat.

"Gojo!" you wailed. "I'm going to fa—!"

Oh, but Gojo was convinced that this was his moment to shine. He directed a smirk your way as the bright blue mass in his hand totally caught your attention. With one swift flick of his hand, he muttered the mantra for Blue, and exorcised the cursed spirit in one go.

He marveled at his own show of power—and hoping that somehow, you would too. Then, he placed his hand under your knees, repositioning you in a princess-carry, and the way your gentle curves nestled snugly in his arms sparked some intriguing thoughts in him.

Your wide, crystal-clear eyes gazed at him with such wonder. Red tinted your cheeks. The corners of his mouth curved into a winning smile.

It was at that exact moment when he realized it: he wants you. This funny girl who often made his day, he wanted you to look at his way too.

...but goddamnit, you like Suguru.

"Well, not that scary now with me around, isn’t it?" he boldly announced, and your amazed expression immediately turned into a cute frown.

"Thanks," you blurted, still with rosy cheeks and looked frazzled, but then you realized the state you were in his arms. "But—put me down!"

"Ehhh, I will if your feet can reach the ground!"

Who cares if you like Suguru? As he burst into snickers and you screamed at his face, Gojo Satoru decided then and there—in that spring of 2006—that he would make it his mission to win you over. To make you his.

And years later, not only he achieved that but also so much more—a ring on your finger serving as the testament to his success.

Epilogue

"Yaga-sensei," Geto sighed wearily. "Can I be paired with Shoko, please?"

"Geto-san, wait, please—" you frantically tried to explain, glaring at Gojo in the process. "I'll do my best so—"

"You're such a bother, even Suguru doesn't want to go on missions with you," the white-haired clown remarked with an evil grin. "Right, Suguru?"

"No, Satoru—"

"Well, but if it's me, I'll gladly mentor and teach you though~"

"I don't want you! You're so insufferably annoying!"

"Yaga-sensei, can I please get paired with someone else—"

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kalims · 13 days

Text

⊹ giving them flowers

premise. no plot we are just giving them flowers cause guys deserve some too <3

content. fluff, mini scenarios, azul turns into a silly nerd (affectionate)

featuring. jamil, sebek, riddle, azul.

note. actually accidentally posted this yesterday and got a heart attack (also an actual consistent posting schedule...?)

jamil gives you a look.

he spares a long stare at the bouquet you clutch between your hands, wearing an awfully cheeky grin that's chipping off the scold in his throat. "how many times have I told you this?" he deadpans.

but from the obvious fact that you're holding it. it's not like jamil can do anything about it.

"you don't buy flowers for yourself," he says firmly. I'm supposed to be the one getting them for you. he would like to add.

"they're a waste of madol?" you tilt your head.

he answers immediately. "no, just—" jamil's eye twitches like he's trying his hardest to keep something. "don't,"

perhaps he's being a little too blunt but it makes him upset. is he really messing up in gift giving to the extent where you have to buy something for.. yourself? and jamil is pretty sure gifts are called as such for a reason.

and that they're from, or gifted to another person.

you chuckle in your fist, but he continues to ramble; "also it's hard to care for flowers when you don't know much, i don't want you to—"

"jamil hon, my baby, the apple of my eye, the love of my life, they're for you,"

you say simply, and watch in amusement when his moments stutter before they stop to a complete freeze.

a furious wave of heat crawls up on his back but he's praying frantically. now is not the time. he seethes.

... he just tripped over his words.

jamil reluctantly accepts the flowers after you've finished laughing your ass off, and the only thing in his mind is the love.

okay maybe he should pick up a book about caring for flowers. do they even survive in the harsh conditions of scarabia?

whatever he'll make it work.

you should've expected this.

despite your arm honestly starting to tremble under the stress of holding it out for about 2 minutes straight now, you still attempt a smile—although strained. wouldn't want sebek to find it an unfriendly gesture.

even though he probably already thinks that anyways.

you don't want to color sebek in a way that shows that his only personality is being suspicious to everyone, and of course. the dearest young master he adores. (seriously though it's a little concerning, and you're kinda jealous.)

sebek stares at the bouquet in your hand with scrutinizing eyes, as if to say non-verbally: 'what is this'.

you sigh when he just stares at it like it's a bomb. "it's flowers." you deadpan.

sebek pursues his lips, looks away before looking back. "I can see that!" he says like he wasn't wearing a face that made you think you had to explain. but he just crosses his arms and falls silent with a huff. "for the young master, yes?'

he pauses. "I can atleast acknowledge your gesture, human!"

was that supposed to be good? you weren't given the chance to explain because he continues again; "though I will have to make sure that these aren't anything the young master is allergic to." he nods to himself, as though proud for being so thoughtful.

your eye twitches. you're a little surprised that he didn't even imply that it could be possibly a bomb inside to try and assassinate them.. but you notice a slight tense-ness to his demeanor.

you know cause he's huffed about 5 times in the past 1 minute, he's looked away and he's very clearly sneaking peaks at your hand.

—then he huffs to himself! then it repeats.

"I will take them to the young master at once!" he announces with his loud volume, stepping forward to grab it from you but you ultimately beat him. you're just praying he doesn't find you 10x more suspicious the moment you had wrenched it back to yourself with surprising strength you didn't know you had.

even he looked surprised!

"no, sebek.." you heave. "they're not for malleus, they're for you."

he didn't have the heart to correct the way you addressed the young master before he dutifully exploded.

he's shaking away from you with a wobbling, agape mouth. he could only open and close them dumbly, not beir capable to let a word out.

you suppose he was too speechless because he didn't even say anything when you happily pushed the bouquet to his chest like nothing happened.

for someone who's most diligent in studying, you'd think riddle would be able to catch on easily on the gist of your actions.

but he just blinks when you hold out your hand. pretty gray eyes trained on the bouquet of red roses in your grasp, then onto your face with inquisitive question apparent with the raise of his brow.

"we have plenty of roses in our gardens." he says, as though like giving him... these is the most bizarre phenomenon in his life.

it seems like he feels the need to add. "we grow them."

you smile, the sweet thing awfully tight on your face. "they're for you," you explain. a little perturbed that you need to in the first place, but it's riddle so you sorta understand?

riddle squints. "why?"

you blank. "like... like a gift, for you? you know. cause I want to."

then as if the slowness of the processing going on in his brain gradually speeds up. it's obvious he's probably realized the implications of your little gift from the jolt, then widened eyes who stare in disbelief.

riddle gulps. "for, me?" he asks stupidly.

your raised brows say yes.

it's almost hilarious when he accepts them gratefully and stares at them like you just sprouted a literal white rose from the ground, wrapped it in some fancy plastic, and then handed it to him with a smile.

silence ensues again. riddle notices, screeches in his head to do something about it except he can't, cause his mind seems to be broken right now and he can't exert any words but a stammer.

and he'd really like to relearn how to speak because you're fidgeting on the spot, clearly nervous by his silence.

"sorry," you chuckle. "um.. it's just red roses, not white, or blue, or pink—"

"no!" he blurts out far too quickly. hands stretched out in the air a little as though reaching out to stop you but then stiffly staying by his side. riddle clears his throat. "I mean... this is... very important to me."

you look like you don't really believe him cause he was going off about roses in his dorm before.

he flushes, away from your gaze. "because its from you."

you can barely see azul.

or gauge out his reaction if it's supposed to be good or bad, because you can barely even see his eyes from all the sudden sheen of white over it. did all the smoke in the room just gravitate over his glasses conveniently or something?

you can spot the joints in his fingers twitching but oddly enough he remains stiff in front of you. uncharacteristically silent, which wouldn't really lead to good things.

"hello?" with your free hand, devoid of any flowers with the power of freezing a person. you wave it in front of his face which seems to have done a pretty good job with snapping him out of whatever trance he's in.

the glasses slip down the bridge of his nose but he fixes them at record speed. admittedly with clammy fingers.

azul coughs. "thank you very much." he clutches them tighter, pursuing his lips.

"I know octavinelle is not the best place for warmer places," he starts and a flash of confusion on your face is something he misses. "but I will manage it and find an accommodation for these, around 34 or 35 degrees."

your brows furrow. what.

"hmm yes... a nice vase, I'll use the most pure water there is." he rants. "then I'll fill it up with two thirds of its container and make sure it lives healthy."

that's... concerning.

"I'll have jade clean it regularly." he says and you're honestly more scared for the flowers. "I cannot trust floyd either so I'll trim it by two centimeters at the right angle occasionally when it dries."

he says all that, with a pink face.

you awkwardly stand there taking in azuls apparent plans on how to ensure the lifespan of your 'thoughtful' gift will be extended as far as he can help in to commerce your honor.

#ㅤ◜◡◝ . . signed !#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland scenarios #twst fluff #jamil viper x reader #jamil x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #sebek x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul x reader #gender neutral reader

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griffonsgrove · 3 months

Note

Hiiii!!! See your doing writing requests for Hazbin, Its my hyperfixation so I am in need of more content 👀 so I'd like to request maybe Vox general or NSFW headcanon ( either one is good lol-) with a afab reader maybe? This is my first time requesting something like this so sorry if I'm a little nervous or bad at requesting. I think this is how people are supposed to request? XD

General Dating Headcanons | Vox

a/n: You're totally alright dear! You said everything just fine! As I've stated before, I got early access to the first two episodes, and it's been so interesting to analyze vox's character! I hope I can do him justice!! He's starting to grow on me now. I'm gonna stick with a gn!reader just because these are general headcanons and I want them to be suited for anyone!

fandom: Hazbin Hotel

wordcount: 1299

cw: SPOILERS FOR HAZBIN HOTEL, swearing, vulgar content, stalking, death and mentions of death/murder., toxic/absuive relationships.

(PLATONIC):

Vox’s got eyes EVERYWHERE in hell. There is no escaping his line of sight unless you go completely off the grid. Which is pretty difficult to do when the entirety of pentagram city is covered head to toe in VoxTech.

However, if you don't pose a threat to him, he really doesn't give a shit about you otherwise, and won’t pay that much attention to your life.

When you first fell into hell, you were mostly confused as to how you wound up here in the first place. That quickly subsided into fear as you noticed the large variety of demons and sinners casually walking down the sidewalk like it was an average tuesday.

You’ll never forget the sight of seeing a demon gnaw off the arm of another and swallow it whole, like it was an all-you-can-eat buffet.

You wander aimlessly down the streets, keeping to yourself and being very cautious of those around you. Your clothes were in tatters, and you didn't have any form of money whatsoever, what were you to do??

You had two options: Somehow find a job in this new horrific realm, or, die.

You didn't care too much for the latter.

This is how you stumble across one of the largest studios/clubs in hell, owned by probably the most feared overlords in pentagram city. The V’s.

You get hired to be nothing more than a waiter/waitress, to serve the patrons of the club, mostly serving them their drinks.

You weren't too fond of the work uniform either. It left nothing to the imagination, and exposed alot of skin, far too much to your liking. The job actually paid somewhat decently though and it was enough to be able to sustain a living. You were quick to rent out the nearest apartment.

One day, while you’re out on the main floor, making your rounds, your eyes briefly lock with the TV demon across a sea of sinners. Call it cheesy, but it was almost like a spark went off the moment he laid eyes on you. Which is something that doesn't happen often with the tech-savvy overlord. Who were you??

He lazily beckons you over with a claw, to which you obediently follow, although it doesn't hide the sheer nervousness written all over your face, He gives you his drink order in that sultry, velvet voice of his, eyeing you up. You gulp slightly and are quick to bring him his order. He thought you were so cute trembling for him.

He begins to stalk observe you closer after that. If you have any electronic devices he’ll watch you through your screens, trying to get a glimpse into what your life was like outside of work. The things you enjoyed doing in your free time, favorite shows, foods etc.

He def goes through your search history.

He would start showing up more in the sections you worked at, oftentimes minding his business, but occasionally striking up a conversation with you.

You did have to admit he was quite the charmer, his smooth voice was hypnotic to you.

OBSESSIVE TENDENCIES. If he notices some creep won't leave you alone while you're working, he’ll take care of them personally, it’s never a pretty sight afterwards. He cant have anyone taking what's his.

You're oblivious to his stalking and possessiveness, you don't think much of it, maybe that's because he puts on a friendly face when you’re around him.

But after some time of getting to know you, He’s the one that eventually asks you out on a “date”. You’re skeptical at first, but decide to accept his offer. And also partially because you were afraid of what would happen if you said no.

(ROMANTIC):

Ngl it’s kind of a situationship in the beginning.

Vox is a busy man, it’s constant work maintaining the studios (especially valentinos temper) and managing the entirety of hell's technology. So, he may ghost you at first.

That being said, He will still keep an eye on you. He often watches through your phone while you sleep, just to make sure you’re safe. Hell is a dangerous place after all.

Speaking of, you’re now under the protection of the V’s, so that’s a plus! You never have to worry about another demon laying a finger on you. They usually never get close enough to anyways.

He very easily gets jealous. He won't show it on the outside because he has an image to uphold, but you can tell every time from that crazed look in his eyes.

Vox is a possessive lover; he wants to keep you all to himself. If he could, he’d keep you locked up by his side all day.

CONTROLLING. He HAS to know where you’re at, at all times, and who you’re going to be with (lest you face one of his tantrums). Also dictates what you wear, He likes to dress you up to his liking, like you’re his own personal doll.

Insecure much?

Say goodbye to privacy btw. He constantly has you in the back of his mind and a watchful eye on you. It can be kind of suffocating at times. The two of you have gotten into a few arguments because of this.

Valentino gets jealous of you too. How dare you take his boy-toy away from him? He’s often giving you the stink eye and will threaten you behind vox’s back. You’re too scared to tell Vox, because you don't want to face Val’s wrath.

You know briefly of his and Val’s “relationship” it all had seemed very one-sided and completely unhealthy.

You're often having to calm Vox down. The man has a very short temper and is easily provoked.

Imagine you pressing little kisses to his screen after he found out about Alastor’s return. He remains stoic, but secretly enjoys your affection.

Some of the pet names he loves to call you include; Doll, Dear, Darling, Sweetheart, Babe.

Pretty old-fashioned ik, but he's a classy man alright?

He tends to be pretty touchy, always having a clawed hand on the small of your back, or an arm wrapped around your waist. It’s more of a possessive trait of his, to keep what's his close.

He loves having you sprawled on his lap while he’s in his screen room, you stay nuzzled into his side, often taking naps while he does broadcasts.

He TOTALLY spoils you btw. He’s one of the most powerful overlords in hell, ofc he has the money to show it. Whatever dingy apartment you had before, forget about it bc this man has you living in a penthouse suite in one of the most expensive apartment buildings. He sees you looking at something in a store or online?? Boom, it’s yours now.

He loves buying you clothes, as I’ve said before, you're his “doll” and he loves playing dress up with you.

And if you buy him something?? He’s taken by surprise at first, he’s never really been on the receiving end of that affection, so whatever it is you give him he’ll cherish it.

If you ever have someone bothering you, or want to get rid of, you just say the word babe. He’ll be feeding them to his sharks >:)

The man is emotionally constipated, ok?? All he’s ever known from relationships is what he shared with Val (and trust me that was a train wreck). He’s rough around the edges, short-tempered and isn't always easy to get along with, and he’s incredibly possessive which can be suffocating to deal with at times. This probably stems from him not wanting to actually be alone, He doesn't want you to slip out of his grasp, so he keeps a tight leash on you. But underneath all these flaws, he really does love you and care about you. At the end of the day, He just wants someone that will stay.

#hazbinhotel #hazbinhotelxreader #xreader #gender neutral reader #vox x reader #vox #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin x reader #headcanons #dating headcanons #hazbin hotel vox x reader #hazbin

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cupid-styles · 5 months

Text

only angel (tattoo artist/plug harry)

in which harry owns a tattoo shop, sells weed on the side, and has a big crush on y/n, a shy virgin who's very much enamored by him.

here is part one of tattoo/plug harry!!! I hope you like it :) please lmk if you'd like more from them <3

word count: 10.2k (!!!!)

content warnings: y/n's parents being unkind people, comments and discussions about weight/disordered eating, fainting (caused by a piercing), smut! (y/n's first time being fingered, dirty talk, harry being a soft dom)

masterlist | talk to me

part two

. . .

Y/N doesn't know why she's here.

If the glares from the employees of the tattoo and piercing shop are anything to go off of, they don't know why she's here either. And it all makes this whole thing even more embarrassing.

In reality, she does have a reason to be here. Mai, one of the few friends she's made in her grad school program, asked if she would drive her down to The Village for a tattoo appointment she had.

Y/N's eyes nearly bulged out of her skull when she asked, especially when she pressed for more details about this tattoo she was getting (it was a strawberry just above her hip, which Y/N didn't quite understand considering she thought tattoos were supposed to be meaningful). But, ever the pushover, Mai ended up convincing her, going as far as getting her to come inside — the one boundary she had — and wait while she got it done.

(Thankfully, her parents had some benefit charity thing going on today, so they weren't concerned with Y/N's whereabouts or where she was taking the car they bought her on a Saturday afternoon.)

The shop, called St. Mark's Place Social Club (aptly named, she supposes, considering it's located on St. Mark's Place), is nice. Unlike what she imagined tattoo parlors would look like in her brain, the spot Mai chose to get tattooed at seems sanitary and actually quite trendy.

It's not wildly crowded with customers hustling and bustling around, but there's a few artists at work at their own small stations. The walls are painted a cozy forest green, all donning frames upon frames of, what Y/N assumes are, sheets of tattoo designs. The receptionist who checked Mai in even offered them some water, which Y/N thinks was very nice.

"Are you nervous at all?" Y/N asks quietly as they sit in the rattan chairs in the waiting area. Mai's filling out some questionnaire on an iPad, but she shakes her head at her question, crossing her legs.

"No, not really," she murmurs nonchalantly, "I have a few tattoos already and I've been here before. The artist that's doing it is really cool and he's so hot."

Y/N's mouth forms around an oh as Mai quickly taps her signature into the tablet. She stands from the rickety chair and walks back over to return it to the front, her heeled boots clacking against the wood floor as she does.

Y/N has her gaze set low in her lap, eyes passing over her fresh manicure (her mother has a standing weekly appointment for her). She doesn't even notice that someone's standing over her — more so, towering over her — until the figure clears his throat, her head snapping up to address them. Assuming she's done something wrong (what it is, she isn't sure), she goes to apologize immediately, but the long haired man in front of her cuts her off.

"You have an appointment?"

Instantly, she flounders. Her mouth drops open as she stumbles over an answer: "I— um, no, I'm not— no, no appointment."

"So you're a walk-in, then?"

"N-no," she shakes her head quickly, his all-black outfit forming a blur in front of her eyes, "No, I'm not getting a tattoo."

The man laughs. He actually laughs at her, and Y/N doesn't know whether she should be embarrassed or pleased that she's made this very attractive man smile.

"You're sitting in a tattoo shop. You know that, right?" the stranger crosses his heavily tattooed arms over his chest, and Y/N's eyes fly to the swirls of black ink covering his skin. They're everywhere; all different fonts and images and numbers and... she wonders if he even knows what they all mean or how many he has.

"Yes," she finally manages out, folding her hands neatly in her lap. It's the default body language she goes to when she's nervous — when she was a teenager, her parents paid for her to go to social etiquette classes, and the instructor told her that this was a good way to show that she was in control of her actions, even if underneath her pastel pink turtleneck, her chest was covered in hives. "No, I'm not getting a tattoo. I'm here with someone getting one."

Thankfully (though Y/N would've preferred it happening about two minutes earlier), Mai walks back over to them, a grin taking over her features when she spots the man talking to her.

"Harry!" she greets excitedly, and Y/N watches as his eyes flicker over to her, flashing a tight smile in her direction.

"Ah. This is who you're here with." he — Harry, apparently — says to Y/N. She doesn't know what she's supposed to say to that (if she's supposed to say anything), but any response is once again cut off. "Hey. You ready?"

She only now notices the gum wedged between his teeth, his jaw moving in a hypnotizing way. His tone appears to be far more clipped with Mai, but Y/N is fast to chalk it up to some fluke. Maybe the other employees mentioned something to Harry and they thought she was in the wrong place or something. That would make sense, she thinks.

"Yeah, all good. I'll see you in a bit, Y/N," Mai nods, swinging her bag over her shoulder, focusing her attention to Harry, "So listen, I'm going to a show in midtown tonight, I was thinking maybe after we finish up here we can—"

"Are you coming back with us?" Harry's eyes fall back onto Y/N, and it's only then that she realizes he's talking to her again.

"Uh... am I allowed to?"

He smirks. Y/N's chest feels like it may concave in simply from the sight.

"I own this place, so yeah, you're allowed to."

Mai's tapping her foot impatiently now, her hip popped out slightly with her arms crossed over her chest. "My appointment started a few minutes ago, Harry—"

"Okay," he says curtly, turning on his heel to face her, "Go in the back and get ready then. You know where my station is."

Both Mai's and Y/N's jaws drop at that, his snappy tone clearly not one to fight back on. Surprisingly, Mai does just that, turning around and walking back to where Harry has his things set up.

"You coming, then? Y/N, right?"

The teasing smirk is still painted over his features, as if he finds humor in outwardly rejecting Mai's advances. Y/N doesn't know why her heart beats a little bit faster at that, warmth spreading from her chest to the rest of her body as he continues gazing down at her.

"Y-yeah," she answers, grabbing her purse and standing up. "If it's not too big of a deal."

"Course not. C'mon, you can follow me."

. . .

Mai's tattoo comes out beautiful.

However, Y/N can hardly focus on the artistry and apparent talent because she's far too busy staring at Harry, who also looks beautiful while he works.

It's distracting, embarrassingly so, that she barely even registers when he's finished wrapping her new tattoo in some sort of clear wrap, sending her back up to pay. Quickly, Y/N scrambles to grab her things, realizing that she's once again left alone with Harry.

"What, running away so soon?" He asks as he cleans up his work station, spinning around to face her in his chair. He has that smirk on his face again — the one that simultaneously intimidates her and makes her entire body burst into flames — and anxiety begins to eat away at her, nervous of saying the wrong thing.

"I just— you're done. So I was gonna go."

"How do you know Mai?"

It bothers her somewhat that he ignores her, but being the subject of his intense glint, she shifts her stance from foot to foot, shrugging her shoulders.

"We're in the same grad program. We've had a few classes together." she answers obediently, clutching the strap of her purse closer to her shoulder.

"Mm," he hums, tossing some paper towels in the trash, "You sure you didn't want any tattoos today?"

Y/N's face erupts into a hot flush for the thousandth time today and she instantly begins to shake her head. "No. No, thank you, I mean. My parents would kill me."

"Your parents?" Harry asks, a slightly stupefied expression on his face. "You're in grad school. Surely you don't make decisions on your appearance based off of them."

He punctuates his sentence by giving her a once-over and she feels nervous under his gaze. She's never particularly felt good about her appearance. She's always just felt... neutral. She grew up with a mother who was constantly dieting, imparting weight loss tips on her every chance she got. When Y/N hit puberty, her father made comments about how grateful he was to finally see her drop the "baby weight". Even now, her mother critiqued her, making comments about how important it was to maintain a good figure; that she'd never find someone to spend her life with if she didn't take care of her looks.

So, all in all, it was safe to say that tattoos were extremely off the table for Y/N.

"It's complicated," she finally replies vaguely. She knows that most people in their mid-20s aren't as deep under the thumb of their parents as she is, but she wasn't lying when she said this — the circumstances weren't as black and white as she wished they were.

However, there was something she'd always been curious about, and she had seen the piercing rates out in the front of the shop.

"But, um— do you guys do piercings?" she follows up before Harry has a chance to question her parents any further.

"We do," he replies slowly, "Well, yeah, I do. Why, are you thinking about getting something pierced?"

She swears his eyes quickly glance to her chest, but just as quickly as she notices it, they're focused back on her face. She clears her throat, willing herself to have an ounce of self-confidence.

"I was wondering if I could get my ears pierced."

Harry quirks an eyebrow and stands from his chair. Her heart rate speeds up tenfold when he walks over to her, his hand reaching outward.

"May I?" he asks, pausing before he makes any movements. She nods, hoping he misses the way her throat bobs in nervousness. Gently, he pushes some of her hair behind her ear, taking a look at the lobe. He does it to the other one and she wonders if he can sense that she's holding her breath.

"Hm, you really don't have them pierced," he mumbles lowly, eyes flitting back to her face. "Yeah, we could do that if you'd like. You sure daddy won't get too pissed?"

He says it with a simper though she's not entirely sure why; she thinks if he understood the dynamic between her and her parents, he'd be more concerned than teasing. Nevertheless, she shakes her head.

"Like you said," she says softly, blinking as they stare back at one another, "I shouldn't make decisions on my appearance based on what they want."

His smirk breaks into a grin, and for the first time, Y/N feels like she's doing something right.

. . .

Y/N didn't think she would be this nervous to get her first piercing, but between the gorgeous man invading her space with a needle and the fact that Mai definitely won't want to be her friend anymore, she's feeling a little tense.

Before getting situated in the chair, Y/N said that she needed to tell Mai she'd be a bit longer, but Harry waved her off and told her he'd take care of it. Apparently, that just meant peeking his head out from his work station and yelling out to Mai that Y/N was busy and wouldn't be driving her home. (Y/N thinks she heard Mai practically stomp out of the shop.)

So now, she's spending her Saturday the last way she thought she would: With her eyes squeezed shot, anxiety making her heart thump far too fast in her chest, with a long-haired tattoo artist hunched over her body. He's so close that she can smell the woody fragrance of his cologne, and she has to resist breathing it in as she inhales deeply in an effort to calm her heart rate.

"Alright, you ready?" Harry asks lowly, his tone a groveled murmur that sends tingles down her spine. She nods, feeling particularly speechless from his closeness and her nerves. "'kay, I'm gonna count to three. Take a deep breath."

Y/N imagines he looks especially gorgeous right now, but she's too scared to open her eyes and see the needle he's about to puncture her skin with. Instead, she simply nods her head again, mentally preparing herself for the countdown.

"Breathe, dove," he says calmly. Her stomach jumps at the pet name but does as he says. "Good. Okay... 1, 2, 3."

She jumps from the bite of pain that stings her earlobe, instantly wedging her bottom lip between her teeth as he shushes her.

"It's alright, that was it," he murmurs, though she can still feel him at her side, carefully wiggling the earring into the newly formed hole. "Y/N? You okay?"

She blinks her teary eyes open and opens her mouth, willing her throat to push out a yes. Instead, Harry's face goes blurry as the images in front of her get hazy. In a panic, she tries to stand, the ringing in her ears sending loud alarms to her brain. She thinks she hears Harry tell her to sit down, his strong arms taking a hold of her own — but that's when everything goes dark.

. . .

Harry's known this girl for all of two hours, and he's never felt panic ravish his body the way it did when she passed out a few minutes ago.

Thankfully, she comes to less than two minutes later (he counted), but he remains by her side the entire time, gently stroking her hair back. As a professional tattoo artist and piercer, he's of course had people faint under the needle, but it's never happened from just a standard ear piercing.

He supposes he maybe should've prepared himself for this. The sweet girl who accompanied Mai didn't look like she belonged at St. Mark's Social Club, but the moment his eyes zeroed in on her, he felt pulled to her. From the pastel pink top that stretched over her chest to the white ribbon tied in her hair, she was the opposite of any girl he's ever been attracted to — and yet, all he wanted was to tuck her under his arm, pull her into his chest, and spend the rest of his life protecting her.

Harry tells himself he's being stupid; some lovesick nerd that just needs to get his cock touched, but as he watches her slowly nurse a cup of water, warmth returning to her complexion, every doubt is thrown out the window.

"I'm so sorry," Y/N pouts, lifting a hand to run through her hair, "I'm... I feel so stupid, I'm so sorry, Harry."

"Why are you apologizing?" he asks through furrowed brows. "It's not your fault. People pass out all the time here, you have nothing to be sorry about."

"Y-yeah, but this is annoying... you probably have another appointment coming up and—"

"I don't."

"Yeah, but—"

"Y/N?"

"What?"

"Stop it."

She huffs, but the apologies stop after that. With his arms crossed over his chest, leaning back against the wall, he watches to make sure she finishes her water. He can tell she's still feeling embarrassed and it bothers him that she thinks of herself as something to feel sorry about.

"Y'know, kinda looked like some kind of badass Sleeping Beauty while you were passed out," Harry says with a smirk, making her eyes widen, "Pretty cute, if you ask me."

Y/N's face warms and he chuckles, deciding that making this girl blush is his new favorite past time.

"You're being silly." she mumbles, finishing off the water with a final swig. He shakes his head and takes the empty cup from her hand, tossing it in the garbage can behind her.

"Would never lie to you, dove. We're going on what, three hours of knowing each other? I wouldn't even dream of it."

"Harry," she whines and it makes him immediately grin, especially as she pushes her bottom lip out in a slight pout, "Shush, stop it."

"Think I should just call you princess from now on, hm? Such a pretty face coming in here, think I got lucky having you pass out on me."

He laughs loudly when her lips part, her jaw slack from the compliment. She doesn't have a comeback for that one, but he assumed as much. He turns to face the cabinets behind him and grabs a paper towel and a pen, quickly scrawling out his number on it before handing it to her.

"This is my number. I'm not gonna do your second piercing today 'cos that sounds like a recipe for disaster, but I want you to text me when you wanna come in and get it done," he explains, "I only work here on the weekend, but I'll come by any day you're free, princess."

She shuffles her feet before nodding her head, stuffing the paper towel in her bag. "O-okay. That sounds good."

"Good," Harry breathes, reaching out to for her hand to help her up, "Do you need a ride home?"

"No!" her eyes dart away from his face, blinking quickly as she focuses on the dark green walls. "Um, no, thank you. You've done enough for me today. I appreciate it, Harry."

"Sure," he says slowly, narrowing his eyes at her, "Okay, well... get home safe for me, alright?"

"I will." she nods and punctuates her sentence with a harsh swallow. "Can I... is it okay if I text you when I get home?"

A gentle smile wiggles its way onto Harry's face, warmth filling his body once again.

"You took the words right out of my mouth, princess."

. . .

To: Harry (St. Mark's Social Club)

hi, im home!! im so sorry again for what happened but thank you sm for making sure i was okay. hope it wasn't too inconvenient!

Y/N's never texted a boy she has a crush on (well, except for Jason Saunders in the 8th grade, but her dad found out within the hour and made her delete his number as he watched). She thinks she must still be lightheaded from fainting because there's no way she can seriously have a crush on someone she barely knows, but nonetheless, she pushes herself to message him to at least thank him for everything he did for her.

She sighs as she throws her phone in her purse and climbs out of her Range Rover. Locking the doors, she crosses her fingers as she walks up the stairs and to the elevator of the luxury garage, pressing the penthouse button on the panel. She hopes her parents are still out — if they're home, she'll be on the receiving end of their badgering for the rest of the evening, and she still wants to work on a paper she has due later next week.

When the sleek elevator doors open, she's met with silence — the only telltale sign that she's alone, with the exception of her parents' private chef and maid. Relief floods her body as she steps out and into the apartment, toeing her shoes off in the entryway and taking quiet steps to her bedroom.

She's exhausted from the day, flopping down on her bed with a sigh. Mindlessly, she feels for her phone in her bag, pulling it out to scroll through Instagram before she commits to doing work for the rest of the night. Instead, she's met with not one, but two texts from Harry.

Remember what I said about apologizing, princess?

Glad you made it home safely. Don't forget to text me about your second piercing — just name the day and I'm there. xx

She wants to let out a squeal, even if there's a large part of her brain that's constantly reminding her to limit her excitement. He's probably just being polite, she says to herself.

Still, it doesn't stop her from replying a mere moment later, promising to restrain her apologies and message him when she's ready to get her other ear pierced.

. . .

"Where were you yesterday?"

Y/N blinks at her father as she sets down the spatula, shifting her attention from the buckwheat pancakes she's currently cooking.

"Studying on campus," she replies easily, even if she had to coach herself all night to lie. She's never one to fib, let alone to her parents — she's always felt some type of fear when it comes to her father, but she knows he never would have approved if she gave him some vague answer about taking a friend to an appointment.

He lets out a noncommittal humph. "You know there's no reason for you to be getting a masters degree when you'll just work at the company when you graduate."

Her stomach tightens. It's a frequent area of contention between she and her parents — their dream for her has always been to work at their jewelry company as soon as she graduated college, but she somehow managed to convince them to entertain her wish to go to graduate school for an English degree. They told her she could do it as long as she starts at their office as soon as graduation comes around.

She hasn't quite yet figured out how she's getting out of that one. If she even can.

"I know, father," Y/N forces out, redirecting her attention to flipping the pancakes on the pan. "It's just important that I get good grades."

"I can't imagine it's very difficult. You speak the language."

She bites her tongue. Her parents have never understood her love for books, always scolding her for having her head in the clouds from a young age. If she's being honest, books have served as a way for her to escape, always wishing she could be the girl getting whisked away by her romantic interest.

Things always worked out in her books. Potentially having a happy ending like the ones she reads about is the only thing that keeps her going sometimes.

Her mother, looking pristine as always even at 9 in the morning, enters the kitchen just as Y/N's sitting down to her eat. Turning stiffly, her eyes narrow at her daughter.

"Those better not be full fat, Y/N." she says, jabbing her pointer finger at her plate.

"They're not." Y/N says softly.

In response, she simply hums. "I don't understand why you don't just have Freya make you food. She's there for a reason."

Y/N quickly stuffs a bite of pancake into her mouth, shrugging her shoulders as she slowly chews. She's never felt comfortable requesting their chef make her anything to eat when she was perfectly capable of doing it herself.

"Don't shrug. It's not ladylike," she scolds, Y/N's posture immediately straightening, "We have a lunch meeting with the Franklin family today. If you're available, you should come. You need to start learning the business."

"I have to work on a paper," the lie rolls off her tongue, knowing full well that she nearly finished it last night, "Finals are coming up. School is getting very busy."

"You know, Y/N, you're lucky we grant you all this freedom." her mother spits, the high heels of her Louboutin shoes clacking against the marbled flooring. "One day, you're not going to have this much of a choice in how you spend your time."

Despite only eating half a pancake, Y/N no longer feels hungry. Instead, she just nods her head and rolls her lips into her mouth.

"You're right. Thank you for everything you do for me."

She clears her dishes and goes back to her bedroom before her parents have a chance to see the tears streaming down her cheeks.

. . .

Y/N spends the better part of Sunday crying in her bedroom.

She's so exhausted of this cycle. Her parents work so hard to tear her down all the time, never once taking into account what her dreams and aspirations are. She feels like she can't do anything right, as if nothing she'll do will ever please them.

In her fit of anger and sadness, she decides she needs to leave Harry behind. He's just a pipe dream, a tiny little sliver of what her life could be if she had less restrictive parents. That night, when she's laying awake in bed, she decides that in the morning, she'll take the fresh piercing out and throw the earring away, delete his number, apologize to Mai, and pretend like this weekend never even happened.

That is the plan, anyway.

Until she wakes up to her alarm at 8 am and she has an unopened text from him, and her heart beats in a way that she's never truly felt before. She doesn't think she's ever smiled this wide after just waking up, the mere appearance of his name on her screen sending waves of hope and happiness throughout her body.

From: Harry (St. Mark's Social Club)

How's the piercing holding up?

After getting home on Saturday, he texted her a series of care instructions for the piercing, instructing her to clean it twice a day, twist the earring, and let him know if anything felt off. She wasn't sure what it was, but she felt particularly giddy when he told her what to do.

To: Harry (St. Mark's Social Club)

good!! no pain or anything and ive been doing what you told me to :)

She has a class at 10 this morning and she knows she should follow her typical routine of a shower, breakfast, and getting ready, but instead, she just lays back in the fluffy tufts of her bedding, smiling to herself as she waits for Harry to text back. A minute or so later, her phone vibrates.

Good girl.

Think you'll come in for your second anytime soon?

Her stomach twists in a delicious way but she's not sure why. There's nothing inherently sexual about what he's messaged her, but it has her craving more, a steady heartbeat forming somewhere deep in her core.

Her eyes read over his question and she bites her lip. She knows that less than 10 hours ago, she was planning to forget Harry, but the feeling he gives her is addictive. She doesn't want to stay away — so she won't.

yeah, if you don't mind doing it :)) maybe today?

In reality, she doesn't want to go under the needle again so soon, but she's craving to see him. He did say he'd come in any day for her.

Harry: I'd love to. What time are you free?

Y/N: i have classes from 10 to 1 today.. would 1:30 work? i can come by on my way home from campus

Harry: How about I meet you at your last class and we walk to the shop together?

Y/N swears her heart is going to beat right out of her chest. Her parents have never allowed her to hang out with a guy outside of anyone they approved of — over the years, they've attempted setting her up with other men of their same financial and social stature, but Y/N was never interested. As a result, they all grew bored of her by the second date, and her parents would yell at her for not being appealing enough.

She doesn't know if Harry will be bothered by the same thing, but she wants — no, she needs — to find out.

Y/N: okay:)

Harry: Great. Can't wait to see you. x

. . .

Harry knows he's pushing it.

This girl may as well have wealthy virgin tattooed across her forehead, but he just can't get himself to stay away. It doesn't seem like she wants him to either, which just makes it harder. And as he's waiting for her outside of her lecture hall on a campus he's never even step foot on, he realizes that they're from very, very different universes.

That doesn't really bother him. He can see the obvious differences — he wears all black, has over 70 tattoos (most of which were impulsive or practice while he was apprenticing), and gives people tattoos and piercings for a living. Y/N is smart and soft; an English major in graduate school, lives with her parents, and drives a car that costs more than his yearly rent.

He's not blind. Although, if he was blind to pretty, innocent girls, he probably could stop walking around with a permanent boner from thinking about how gorgeous she'd look in his bed.

The only thing that can tear him from his thoughts is the sight of her. He watches as she walks through the doors of the building, a slight pep in her step when she notices him, waving her hand with a smile. He licks his lips absently, willing the arousal pooling deep in his stomach to go away.

"Hi," she greets as she approaches him, "How're you?"

"I'm good." he answers, trying his best not to let his eyes wander over her outfit, "How was class?"

"'s okay. Kind of boring. Almost fell asleep once or twice."

"Yeah?" Harry chuckles as they begin to walk towards the nearest campus exit. "Gotta stay awake in those smarty pants classes of yours, princess."

He already knows she's blushing before he turns his head to see the familiar flush flower over her skin. He points to the bag over her shoulder, pausing his steps. "Lemme carry that for you."

"Oh— no, you don't have to, I don't want to be annoying—"

"Why would that be annoying?" he asks with a quirked brow. She swallows, shrugging her shoulders. "I don't have to if it makes you uncomfortable."

"N-no, it wouldn't," she shakes her head and he nods, keeping his arm stretched out. She pushes the strap down her shoulder and hands the bag to him. "Thank you. That's very kind of you, Harry."

"What d'you have in here, a ton of bricks?" he asks teasingly as he slips the pink tote over his own shoulder.

"No! I have to bring books to campus every day so we can discuss certain passages and stuff. I guess I've been doing it for so long I didn't notice how heavy it is."

"It's very heavy, Y/N," Harry says, stuffing his hands into the front pocket of his sweatshirt, "No wonder you're falling asleep in class, you're basically doing an upper body workout on your way there."

"It's not that big a deal," she replies nonchalantly. "It's just— it's what my professors want, so."

He continues grumbling, annoyed that anyone would ask this girl to shuttle all this weight to campus every day.

"Can you start parking closer to your lecture halls, then? I don't wanna find out you dislocated your shoulder one day."

She shakes her head. "I don't drive to campus."

"Oh, is parking that bad?"

Y/N begins to fidget, wringing her hands out in front of her as they walk. Harry glances at her from his peripherals, soaking in the nervousness written all over her face.

"No... my parents don't let me drive to campus, that's all."

He hums, attempting to stay unbiased, even if everything he's learned about her so-called parents has only made anger rise in his chest.

"Do they have a lot of limits on things you can and can't do?"

"Kind of. I don't know."

"Is... is that something that bothers you?"

She worries her bottom lip between her teeth as they stop at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to turn. He shifts his body to face her.

"I've never really told anyone about how they are, but... well, they take care of me. They always have. They just have a very clear vision of what they want for me."

"Right," Harry nods, "Just because they care for you or pay for certain things doesn't mean they're good, though. I'm not saying they aren't— I just don't want you to confuse the two."

"I guess."

He decides to leave it at that, mainly because he can she's growing uncomfortable, but also because they're approaching the shop. He pushes the door open and holds it for Y/N, who sheepishly walks in, Harry close behind.

He doesn't acknowledge anyone as she follows him to his station, but she supposes it's not out of the ordinary for him to do these things since he's the owner. Once they're safely sheltered by the walls of his space, Y/N lets out a breath, sitting down in the chair she was in on Saturday.

After setting her bag down, he washes his hands at the sink. A long-haired guy pops his head in, grinning when he sees Y/N.

"Hey, H," he greets, "Didn't know you'd be here today."

Harry's tone is gruffer towards the man, even though he seems friendly. "Yeah. What's up?"

"I need a favor. I have an appointment that looks like it's gonna take a little longer than anticipated — last minute changes and all that to the design, but Jude is coming in to pickup at 2. You mind dealing with him?"

He glares at the man before assuming what Y/N is starting to call his signature pose — arms crossed over his broad chest, leaning back against some surface in his station (today, it's the tattoo bed).

"None of the other idiots can do it? Kinda busy."

"It's your off day, figured you could handle him," he shrugs, "Unless you'd like to introduce me—"

"Shut up." Harry replies, clenching his jaw. A spark zips up Y/N's body, though she's not sure why he seems to take offense to the man's words. "Yeah, I'll deal with it. What does he want?"

"Just some edibles and a few grams of bud. Nothing crazy."

Again, Y/N doesn't miss the way Harry shoots a glare at him, who simply raises his hands in mock defense. As if speaking through some sort of secret language, he backs out of the room, his Adidas sneakers sounding crisply against the wooden floors as he walks away.

"Sorry," Harry mumbles.

"Oh. It's okay."

He turns back around to look at Y/N, who somehow looks even smaller in the chair since they arrived.

"You have no idea what that was about, do you?"

She shrugs, though it's clear that Harry's right. She doesn't often like showcasing her naive nature, like it's some sort of party trick for people to laugh at. It makes her feel sad, a reminder of the "normal" years she could have had if not for her parents.

He sighs and lifts a hand to run through his messy hair. "A few of us sell weed on the side here. It's not really a big deal, but we just do it for some extra cash on the side. I would've rather told you on my own time, though."

Y/N's palms find her thighs, plucking at the hem of her skirt as she swallows, digesting the information. Weed? Her parents had always taught her that all drugs were bad. In their minds, weed was just as bad as heroin, but when Y/N read about states legalizing the former, she didn't quite understand how that made sense.

"I hope that doesn't make you think any differently of me," he continues. "I'm sorry."

She keeps her eyes set in her lap, "Is weed... bad?"

She's expecting him to laugh at her but instead, when she looks up, she's met with a small, adoring smile on his lips. His eyes twinkle just a bit as he shakes his head.

"No, it's not bad, dove. What do you know about it?"

"Nothing, really. I know it's legal in some places but my parents always told me to stay away from any drugs."

"I think a lot of parents do that," Harry replies with a nod, "But it can actually be really helpful for people. Mentally, physically. And others just like it, they enjoy the feeling of being high."

She swallows before biting her lip. "Do you... do you like it?"

"I do." he says. "Is that okay?"

She thinks he could tell her he's a serial killer and she would be okay with it.

"Yeah. 's okay."

His grin widens. "Alright. Lemme get you settled with this other piercing. I'll have to step out to sell to Jude at 2, but after that, do you wanna grab something to eat?"

She nods so fast she feels like a bobblehead. A chuckle — the warmest, most melodic thing Y/N thinks she's ever heard — sounds from his mouth.

"Just don't pass out again on me, Sleeping Beauty."

. . .

Y/N takes her second piercing much better than her first.

(And by that, she means she only teared up a little bit, and no fainting occurred.)

She's actually more nervous about the whole weed... thing. She feels torn. There's a half of her that feels intimidated by it; the part that still has a foot stuck in her parents' world, she supposes, where they taught her to never even look at people like Harry. The other half of her is intrigued to see what happens. Fascinated by him, maybe, and the way she feels when she's around him, and she doesn't know whether that's a good thing or not.

"Harry!"

Someone calls his name from the main room as he's cleaning up and he peeks his head out.

"Yeah?"

"Jude's here!"

He looks a lot less flighty about it than she assumes he would. Instead, he simply walks back into his station and unlocks a bottom cabinet to reveal a safe inside.

"Know you're watching, princess," he says, turning his head to flash a toothy smirk in her direction. She looks away, blinking nervously. "Don't reveal any of my grand weed secrets to anyone, hm?"

"I'm not," she huffs, making him chuckle, "I'm just... curious."

Harry hums, pulling contents out from the safe. When he's done, he doesn't even bother concealing any of the weed he's just taken out, instead just rising to his feet.

"I'll be right back. We can talk about the curiosity in a second."

Y/N's not snappy enough to come up with a response so she simply watches him walk away. She's only seen drug deals go down in movies and TV shows, where they're dramatic and part of the mob and guns are a necessity. She doesn't think this is one of those drug deals, but who is she to assume?

Surprisingly, Harry returns less than two minutes later with a small wad of cash in his hand. He pockets it, smiling at her when he sees she's still sitting there, the same perplexed look on her face.

"Steal any of my bud while I was gone?"

"Harry!"

He cackles and shakes his head. "Alright, dovie, c'mere."

Hesitantly, she stands, shuffling over to where Harry is back to kneeling on the floor. He looks up at her with an expectant expression, a wordless command to do the same. She does.

"Okay. You said you were curious?"

She nods.

"I've always found that the best solution to curiosity is knowledge. This doesn't mean you have to do anything, but it's good to know about things that may intimidate you," he explains. "So, weed can be found in a few different forms. I only sell flower, which are these little buds," he pulls out a container, showing her the small green nuggets. "And edibles, which is just candy or chocolate, stuff like that, with different levels of potency."

"Oh." Y/N furrows her eyebrows, a small wrinkle forming between them. "That's it?"

He chuckles, "Mhm. That's it."

"And what does it do?"

"Like how does it make me feel?"

She nods.

"It's different for everyone and strains — like, the types of weed — will affect people differently, too. For me, it just makes me a little more relaxed and giggly, more touchy and less in my head. It's nice."

"That does sound nice." she says softly. He hums as he pushes the container back into the safe, locking it back up in the cabinet. "Do you think I would like it?"

It's a question that kind of blurts out without thinking about it. When he turns to look at her, eyes serious and thoughtful, she feels small; the way everyone her age or older has always made her feel. She swallows harshly, immediately regretting it.

"I don't know the answer to that, but if you ever want to try, you can tell me. I'll make sure you have a safe experience."

It's not the answer she's expecting, but instead maybe the one that only exists in her wildest dreams. She looks down to hide her blush and he smiles to himself, ducking down to catch her eyes.

"You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're a blushy little thing."

Her jaw snaps closed, wiggling uncomfortably at his blatant call out. Her mother always told her that her emotions were easy to read — she said it made her weak, though.

"I like it," Harry quickly amends, throat bobbing, "I like it a lot."

She thinks she notices his eyes zip to her lips, but just as quickly as they dart down, they're back up to her eyes. She swallows when she realizes they've somehow gotten closer, the distance slowly closing between them in millimeters. She doesn't know who's moving in — if it's him or her or both — but suddenly, she's looking up and his face is hovering over hers, blinking in silent permission. When she doesn't grant it because she's too nervous to speak, his tongue peeks out, licking over his raspberry lips.

"Is this okay?" He asks, minty breath ghosting over her mouth. "Can I do this?"

She nods, because she thinks any noise that would come out of her mouth would be just that — a sad excuse of a squeal. Her heart is pulsing in her ears, her hands trembling over her thighs, and then it happens — he presses his lips to hers, so gently it's almost like they aren't even there. The last time Y/N kissed someone, it was in ninth grade in the locker room after school, and she doubts it even qualified as a real kiss. This is different, though. This is Harry.

He feels the nervousness radiating off of her so he breaks away, despite the already addictive taste of her mouth. He's gone too quickly and it makes Y/N's heart rate quicken even faster.

"Need you to relax, princess." He says with his forehead pressed against hers. "Just follow my lead, okay? Promise it's not hard."

Embarrassed, she nods again, willing him to close the gap for a second time. This time, his lips are quick to move against hers, and it initially takes her by surprise. But she does what he told her to, mimicking his movements in tentative paces. With each passing moment, he's kissing her more and more breathless, and she lifts a shaking hand to the back of his neck, pulling him closer. It's a bold move for her and she swears she feels his signature smirk form into their kiss.

Time doesn't feel like it moves much when Y/N's mouth is on Harry's, but she knows it is because she needs a break to breathe. With panting lungs, she pulls away, watching as Harry's eyes flicker open. His lips are pinker somehow and swollen with spit. The image makes her core throb.

"Y'okay?" He asks. Y/N notices his pupils are darkened and he shifts from his seat on the floor, adjusting his lower half.

"Y-yeah," she nods, "Needed to, um, breathe."

He chuckles. "Yeah? Get a little dizzy there?"

"A little bit."

"Cute," he murmurs, lifting his thumb to swipe a bit of spit away from her bottom lip. Instinctively, her mouth opens, and she watches as his eyes flicker to hers. Through labored breath, he slowly moves his thumb along her plushy lip, resisting the urge to sink it inside. She's not sure why something as small as this is stirring her insides, but her eyes widen when he breaks away, pushing the finger into his own mouth.

"Oh." She breathes out.

"I don't wanna scare you," Harry whispers, "But I'm completely fucked when it comes to you, dove. If you don't want this... want me, I need you to go now."

She swallows. Slowly, she rises to her knees and inches towards him, closing the small gap that formed between their bodies. She's hesitant in her movements but pushes herself to straddle him, gently sinking her ass down into his lap. His eyes widen.

"I want this. I want you." She says.

"Good," Harry mumbles, brushing his lips against hers for the third time that afternoon, "Good."

. . .

Y/N thinks she could go pro at lying to her parents.

A month ago, she had to spend hours preparing the perfect fib, coaching herself on how to articulate it just casually enough so it didn't seem fabricated. These days, they come out like nothing.

I'll be home late, I have a group project to work on in the library.

I'm going to a tutoring session for one of my classes, I probably won't be home until dinnertime.

I'm spending some extra time on campus today so I can get a head start on a paper.

In all truthfulness, school couldn't be the furthest thing on her mind right now. Harry is.

Ever since that day they kissed at his shop, they haven't been able to spend more than a day apart. Mostly, they follow the same routine from that very afternoon, where he'll pick her up from her last class of the day and they'll walk back to St. Mark's together. Sometimes, Harry will have deals to do so they sit and talk in the downtime. Other days, he'll have actual work to tend to, accounting and whatever it is he does as a business owner, so she'll do some homework, enjoying the silent companionship. Y/N never stays too late into the evening, not wanting to push her luck with her parents, but Harry always sends her off with a kiss that leaves her breathless, making her promise to text him when she gets home.

And the kissing... yeah.

Y/N likes to think she's gotten better at it from all the practicing they've been doing. She still gets a bit flustered, but it's one of her favorite things to do with him. The second they shuffle into his station, Harry closes the door so they're finally in private, and it's like a switch is turned on. Within seconds, they're wrapped up in each others arms, mouths wet and hot against one another. She's discovered that her favorite place to be is seated in his lap while his tongue explores her mouth, breathy pants parting her lips. He loves to squeeze her ass over the pleats of her skirt, knowing that it riles her up in the smallest forms of contact — tiny rolls of her hips, nails being pressed into his skin, a slight pull of his hair.

She doesn't think things could get much better with Harry until today, during their typical makeout-and-grinding session, when he ducks beneath her jaw, pressing messy kisses to her soft skin. It's then that the words leave his lips.

"Can I feel you under here, dove?"

His hand is fisting the hem of her skirt and the low tone of his voice makes lightning zip through her body. She doesn't know how to reply — she wants to say yes, but her mouth is dry from immediate anxiety.

"N-no one's ever touched me there," she whispers, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Harry hums, unbothered, kissing her jaw once more before backing away slightly.

"Don't have to do if you don't want to. We can just keep doing what we've been doing if you'd prefer." he replies nonchalantly, his lips swollen. She swallows nervously, perturbed by his frank nature.

"I— I do want you to feel me," Y/N mumbles. It's not a lie — yes, she's a virgin who knows next to nothing about her body besides its reproductive process, but sometimes, when she goes home in the evening, she thinks about what it would like to keep going. She's seen movies and TV shows, but those have only made her even more curious. Sometimes the guy takes it slow and makes it romantic, other times it's painful and uncomfortable. She can only hope Harry would take care of her.

"Where, princess?"

Well, she can only hope that Harry would take care of her in his typical teasing ways.

Huffing, she shakes her head. "I can't say that, H."

"Can't touch you if I don't know where you want it," he murmurs, kissing her cheek lightly. "Wanna hear you say it. Ask me."

"Harry," she whines. "Please? You know... where."

"Here?" he asks, pressing his the warmth of his hand to her thigh. "This where you want me?"

"No."

"Hmm, how about here?" he moves his hand up just a bit further, inching underneath the fabric of her mini skirt to the crease of her thigh. Again, she shakes her head.

"Dunno where you want me then, dove. Thought you were my good girl."

"H-higher." she mumbles, attempting to push her body closer so he gets the hint.

"Higher?" he echoes with a smirk, "Here?"

This time, his fingertips have found the waistband of her panties. It immediately feels wrong, but not because of who's touching her, but rather the act of it. She takes a deep breath and tries to ignore the voice in her head. Slowly, in an act of false confidence, she bunches the fabric of her skirt up at her hips, watching as Harry's eyes widen. They instantly dart down to the small wet patch between her thighs and it makes him groan softly.

"Jesus," he mutters, forgetting about his little game. He gently thumbs at her clit through the material and she jumps. Using his other hand to squeeze her hip, he tries to keep her steady, mumbling out an apology. "Am I allowed to see this cute little pussy?"

She clenches at his question, surprising herself with how turned on she feels from just a few words.

"Yes," she nods, "Please."

"'Please'? Aren't you just the sweetest wet dream, hm?" Harry murmurs. He pushes the width of the fabric to the side, making Y/N shiver from the sudden exposure and being under his gaze. "Are you always this polite or is this just for me, princess?"

She licks over her lips when he parts her pussy with his ring and middle fingers. He hums, dipping a fingertip into her crease and lifting it to his mouth. He looks at her expectantly and she realizes she hasn't answered him yet.

"J-just for you."

"Pretty, swollen pussy just begging for attention. Do you always get this needy when we kiss?"

She nods, her eyelashes fluttering as he runs the tip of his pointer finger through her wetness.

A poor excuse for an answer sounds through her lips, the affirmative tone being the only thing that gives him an idea of what she said. He snickers boyishly, Y/N's jaw dropping when they both feel her pussy pulsate.

"I think my girl is a bit naughtier than I thought," he breathes, moving his finger back up to her clit to form slow, small circles. She gasps from the intensity, a new sensation of overwhelming pleasure that she's never received before. "Is that the truth, dovie? Do you wanna be my naughty girl instead of my polite one? Tell me."

"Harry," she mewls, arching her back to press deeper into his touch, "P-please— feels really good."

"Yeah?" he smirks, a mocking tone to his voice that makes Y/N squeeze her eyes shut. "Yeah, does it feel really good?"

"You're— you're being mean—"

"Oh, I don't think so, dove. I think I'm letting you use my fingers to get off, petting this pretty little clit until you cum all over my hand. I don't think that's mean, do you?"

He stops stroking at her and her eyes snap open. She can feel how warm her face has gotten under his touch, quiet puffs of breath ghosting over his lips as his eyes twinkle, knowing what he's done.

"Why'd you stop?" she asks in a small voice.

"You said I was being mean," Harry replies with a shrug, "If I were really mean, I'd leave you here high and dry. Do you want to learn about edging today, Y/N?"

She shakes her head, her bottom lip pushed out in a pout. He hums and lifts his hand to his mouth, his pink tongue darting out to swirl around the fingers that were just caressing her. She watches him with wide eyes. She doesn't think she's ever been this turned on in her life.

"Do you like when I tease you?" he asks lowly. They both know the answer — her body couldn't lie even if she wanted to, and Harry noticed it the second he felt her pussy clench against nothing at his mocking tone.

"Y-yes." she whispers.

"Dirty girl," he murmurs, moving both his hands down to her hips to give them a squeeze. He tightens his hold on her and gently moves her up to the tattoo bed, helping her lay down. "We have all the time in the world to learn about what makes your pussy wet, but right now, I wanna make her cum. Can I do that, dovie?"

Y/N nods, allowing him to adjust her body however he wants. He smiles at how pliant she is for him, sticking to her good girl demeanor.

"Need you to tell me if I go too far or if something doesn't feel right, okay?" he reminds her as he fits himself between her thighs, "At any point, you say stop and we do, no questions asked."

"Yeah. Okay."

It's apparent to her that Harry is experienced, because it takes no time for him to wiggle his fingers back to their initial position. His thumb is applying the smallest bit of pressure to her clit, still sensitive from when he was playing with it before, but now he's circling over her hole with one of his larger fingers. She gasps at the slight intrusion.

"Have you ever put your finger in here, princess?"

She shakes her head. "N-no."

"Do you want me to?" he asks, though he can already feel the way her hole is all but sucking him in, "It won't hurt. Promise."

She trusts him — maybe foolishly, because she knows her parents would disown her if they knew the position she was in right now — but she pushes the thought to the back of her head, instead simply answering his question with a nod. He keeps his eyes on hers as he slowly pushes in, a gasp instantly falling from her plushy lips. Her immediate reaction is discomfort, but as he starts to stroke at something towards the back of her walls, it feels... good. Overwhelmingly good. So good that a loud moan frees itself from deep in her chest and he jumps up, gently pressing his other hand over her mouth. He ducks down and presses a kiss to the shell of her ear.

"Know I'm making your little hole feel so good, but there's other people here. I wanna keep those moans just for myself, okay?"

Her eyes roll back as he continues to pump his finger inside of her, the assault on the magic little spot never stopping. She can sense the smirk that's likely formed on his face but she can't find it in her to care because she's never, ever felt this good before. She whimpers against his palm and he groans quietly, the sight of his gorgeous girl writhing beneath him nearly too much to handle. He wills his own raging hard-on away, instead focusing on Y/N's need to cum before he can even consider getting himself off.

"H-harry," she sounds beautiful mewling his name even when it's muffled by his hand, "I feel— I'm—"

"I know, dove, I know," he coos, quickening the loops around her clit. She's growing increasingly sensitive from his touch as her hole throbs around his finger. "Let go for me. Let go for daddy, lemme see that pretty pussy soak me."

Realistically, he would've preferred introducing her to the whole daddy kink thing on different terms, but he's instantly reminded of how insanely lucky he is when those are the words that push her over the edge. His jaw drops as he watches her squirm underneath his hands, riding out her orgasm and squeezing him in the most delicious way.

"Fuck, you're so fuckin' beautiful," he groans, unable to stop himself from lightly grinding his covered cock against her inner thigh. He can feel the warmth radiating off of her core and his desperation to feel her grows by the second.

When her orgasm finally subsides, she's panting heavily and he swallows, palming himself over his pants.

"Is this okay?" he asks breathily. Y/N raises up onto her elbows, her eyes growing a bit wide when she sees what he's doing. Despite how exhausted she is, she still nods, the curiosity of what he looks like when he comes steadily building inside her. "'s not gonna take me long — that was the prettiest thing I've ever fuckin' see. Jesus."

She blushes but he doesn't notice as he pulls his cock out from under his pants and boxers. He spits into his palm and starts to stroke himself, his gaze glued to the swollen mess between her legs.

In college, Y/N watched porn once. It was with her roommate and her friends, who found out she was a virgin and asked if she knew anything about sex. She didn't, so they had some sort of debauched education night for her, which was really just an excuse to giggle and make fun of the way guys moan in porn. It made her feel weird, watching this couple have sex on camera, but what she does remember is the girl encouraging him to cum. Once she started begging, it pushed him to her orgasm, and Y/N was pretty impressed with that.

So, she swallows her self-conscious nature and gazes up at Harry as the slick pumps over his length grow clumsy. She can see the pre-cum bubbling at the tip and the way he gathers it with each stroke, using it to further lubricate himself.

"Want you to cum for me," she breathes out, the words sounding foreign when they leave her lungs, "Please. Wanna see it."

Harry's eyes nearly bulge out of his head and she assumes she's done something right by the way he quickly squeezes them shut, a quiet fuck falling from his lips.

"Please cum for me, daddy."

Much like it was for her, the use of his honorific is what finally pushes him to his finish. His jaw goes slack and his chest vibrates with muffled groans as spurts of cum rain down on Y/N's mound, eliciting a small gasp as the feeling. It's messy, but she's enamored by how gorgeous Harry looks when he comes: swollen lips, clenched abs, flushed cheeks, his large hand fisted around his length.

"Shit," he mutters, reaching up with his clean hand to push his curls out of his face, "Are you alright? Was that okay?"

She nods far too quickly for her own good. She'd be lying if she says she isn't slightly overwhelmed, but she wouldn't take any of it back. She never wants to forget how good he made her feel, while the knowledge that she's the one that turned him on like that is a boost to her confidence.

"Lemme clean you up, hold on," he says breathily, reaching over to grab one of the folded hand towels in the cabinet. Gently, he runs the fabric over her sensitive bottom half, shushing her softly. He does the same thing for himself and then helps her shimmy her panties back up. "You sure you feel alright, dove? You're being quiet."

"'m okay. Just tired." She replies truthfully, sitting up to lean back against the wall.

"Yeah? One little orgasm and you're ready for a nap?"

She giggles and buries her head into his shoulder, her limbs feeling particularly jelly-like. He wraps a loose arm around her shoulders and pulls her closer, chuckling as he presses a kiss to her hair.

"That's alright. I'm happy to take care of you however you need, princess."

. . .

"When were you planning on telling me the bookstore is hiring?"

Harry's eyes widen at Y/N's unusually bold demeanor. He glances down at her, following her gaze to where she's staring at the small bookstore across the street. Sure enough, there's a help wanted sign in the window.

"I didn't know you were looking for a job, dove," he replies with a shrug. In all honesty, he's never really paid attention to the business across the street from his own.

"Well... I'm not really, but I do want to start making my own money." she says softly, biting her lip.

He raises his eyebrows, "Yeah? You wanna go see if you can fill out an application?"

Despite her nerves, she still nods her head. Harry smiles and intertwines their fingers together, guiding her across the way to the bookstore. He holds the door open for her and she swallows anxiously, stepping inside the quaint store. With his hand pressed to the small of her back, he gently ushers her to the cashier.

"Hi," she says shakily, "I saw you're hiring people and I was wondering if I could apply."

The woman at the front grins, immediately launching into a conversation with Y/N about how excited she is that someone's interested in working for them. As she pulls a paper application out from a drawer on the side, Harry smoothes his hand over her back, rubbing it gently. He's so proud of her, his heart feels like it could burst.

It's only when she's finishing up filling out her information that someone says her name. They both turn, Y/N's eyebrows instantly furrowing in confusion.

"Y/N," the woman hisses, and Harry glances down to watch his girl's face crumble, "What are you doing?"

"Y/N... who is this?" Harry asks, his possessive instincts immediately taking over.

She swallows harshly, tugging at the sleeves of her sweater.

"Um... this is my mom."

read part two here!

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murdrdocs · 11 months

Note

just read all your imagines and they are so good!! just on here to req anything hobie brown related cos god that man is so fine. maybe like a one-shot where they are fwb cos hobie doest do labels but gets jealous and then asks reader to be his gf and then shows her off to everyone. just like really anything u want to write tbh ✨✨

end of line | h. brown

description. being friends with benefits with your best friend, hobie brown, is fun and all, but you start to realize that maybe firm labels suit you better than whatever this is

includes. slight smut SUGGESTIVE 16+, fem!reader referred to as “girl”, fluff, sweet!hobie, pav gwen and miles mention, rockstar!hobie

a/n: i have no words this was supposed to be uploaded like a week ago but then i went to disney so ... sorry yall. also not edited well bc ... disney. edit: title from the song by daft punk bc tron <3

word count: 1.7k+

things are still in your bedroom. they always are right before he arrives.

you're not a psychic, nor do you have a "spider-sense" (which, with the creepy-sixth sense way hobie described it, you don't want one either), but you like to think that you can tell when he'll come by.

nights when you haven't heard much from him, but the sirens seemed to never stop outside, were usually when your window would creek as it slid up.

you listen out for the sound now as you finish painting your last nail. you'd used the quick dry polish tonight, in hopes that you wouldn't have a repeat of last time, when your fingernails weren't dried but hobie was incredibly impatient and when you were done, you'd realized that your right ring and pinkie fingers were smudged.

the bottle's closed, you'd blown on your nail to ensure it dried, and that's when your window slides open.

there's no point in looking back at him when he tumbles into the room. he starts mumbling complaints as soon as the window's closed, the sound of his shoes unlacing padding his words, something about some common thief who hobie was going to let go but then he went and messed with the lady on the street and her cat.

you'd lost the tail end of his words whenever he started walking closer to you. you sat up straighter, pushed everything out of the way, and waited for him to turn your chair around.

which, when he did, you looked up at him, small smile on your lips as you stared into his deep brown eyes.

"how's your night, hm?" he asked, a courtesy before getting to the real action.

you shrugged, pretending to think. "nothing. just a lot of this."

"no smashing societal standards? picking off misogynists one by one?"

a small laugh in the form of a snort from you. "nah. figured i'd take a day off, you know?" the sarcasm dripping from your words. that's not who you were. you wish you could've been like that, could've been like hobie. but there's one spider-person for a reason.

"oh, yeah, uh-huh..." and hobie trailed off as he leaned in, pointer finger hooking under your chin to pull your lips to his.

it always felt good to kiss hobie.

you'd fantasized about it for weeks before it actually happened. he's your closest friend at the moment, and he occupied the title before this arrangement even existed. and of course you had the worry about ruining your beautiful friendship if you became more, fear that you wouldn't be able to go back and you would subsequently lose probably the best friend you've ever had.

but that was no need to worry. because while you could let hobie pull you up and lead you to your bed, sitting back and pulling you into his lap while he kissed you with a tenderness you know so well, you could also just be friends with him, sitting side by side on the couch and having a movie marathon of horrible biopics without thinking about jumping each other's bones.

there's a balance here that you could only hope would've existed.

and it's never thrown off. not even when he pulls your shirt over your head and his full lips find your nipples and the slightly-faded marks he'd left a few days ago. not even when he switches your position, laying you back and kissing down your torso until he can bury his head between your legs. not even when you whine and cry just a bit, slightly begging for him to pull his suit off so he can fuck into you in a way that only he can.

you try not to think about the equilibrium of your relationship with hobie when your legs hook around his waist and the heels of your feet dig into your lower back. you try to solely focus on the way his cock fills you up perfectly, mostly long with the right amount of girth for your walls, tip reaching deep within you in an almost mind bending way.

but you can't help but think about the way hobie doesn't do labels when he helps you to your bathroom, where he lets the shower heat up while you sit in a shirt he left behind a few days ago when he'd shown up as just hobie brown and not spiderman. you can't help but think about being hobie's girlfriend when his big, veiny hands run along your skin after the shower, smothering you in shea butter as you struggle to hold your eyes open. and you don't bother attempting to fight off the lasting thought of being hobie's while he hums an unknown song to himself with your head on his chest, the deep sound of his voice and the vibration of his chest lulling you to sleep.

you need to be someone's.

the friends with benefits scenario was fun, it worked, it was glorious, but you don't think it's for you. and labels aren't for hobie.

so, you look elsewhere.

you're at hobie's show, standing in the back of the pub with a drink you weren't interested in, with some guy you really weren't all that interested in, either. but he smelled nice, and he seemed nice, and you were just looking to broaden your horizons just a bit.

you and hobie weren't exclusive, but maybe it's a little wrong to flirt with someone else at his show. but you were slightly upset, and craving attention, so it didn't matter.

not until hobie got off stage.

it took a while for him to roam over to you, but even then you were still entertaining the other guy. giggling, tilting your head, batting your eyelashes, your hip popped out and a manicure, that was still fresh, blinging as your hand rested on the bone.

he greets you with a term of endearment that he uses often, but it feels different in this circumstance. you tell yourself that it feels different because you want it to feel different.

"oi, babe! who's this bloke?"

his arm slings over your shoulder and you tense under it. your hands folding over your chest, your smile tightening a little.

“uh this is steven.” your hand reaches out to point to the man, a tight lipped smile spreading onto his lips.

“steven …” hobie repeats the name slowly, and without looking at him you can tell that he’s eyeing the guy up and down.

the air is stiff, the three of you are silent, and unfortunately, steven takes the hint to dismiss himself, and you instantly turn to hobie, a scowl on your face.

“what the fuck, hobes?” you’re pissed, but the nickname still slips off easily.

hobie shrugs and reaches into his back pocket, a cigarette appearing and he sticks it between his lips. instantly, your fingers pluck it out from his mouth, instead putting it in your own back pocket.

instead of looking upset, hobie looks amused. his hands reach out to grab your waist, and you want to give in, but you try to push his hands away instead.

hobie lets you, and you don’t know if your happy or upset with that.

“what’d you mean?”

you stare at him, deadpan, then gesture to where steven had walked away towards.

“you just cockblocked me!”

a cocky grin, almost a little condescending. “i didn’t ‘cockblock’ you, babes. you weren’t trying to get with that guy.” your eyebrow lifts and you can see realization come onto hobie’s face. “oh … you were?”

“yes! of course i was!”

“but why? you are i are together.”

“sure, hobes, but we’re not ‘together’.”

“yes we are.”

“no, we aren’t.”

“why do you think that?”

you suddenly feel a little insecure, eyes scanning the thinning crowd, ears noticing the way the volume in the pub is lowered. “because you’ve never put a label on it, bee.”

another layer of realization. hobie’s hands coming to your waist again, but this time you let him pull you in.

“i didn’t know we needed a label. but you’re my girl. and i’m your guy.”

your body heats up and you bite down onto your lower lip giddily, peeking up at hobie through your lashes.

"thought you didn't like relationships?"

"labels. i don't like labels."

there's a disruption in the atmosphere. goosebumps raise on your skin, the hair on the back of your neck sticks up, and even if you weren't aware internally, the way the magazine you were previously reading floats above the table would've tipped you off.

the portal opens shortly after, but you knew it was coming. it took hobie a while to tell you that he was spiderman, longer to convince you that he was spiderman, and a while longer to convince you of the existence society, and even though you know, you still get a little shocked whenever a portal opens.

he comes through first, thud of his heavy boots against the floor of his flat. the spoon in your mouth clings against the side of the bowl, your free hand reaches out to the tv remote to pause the episode as you look over at hobie.

"oi, didn't know you were still here." is all he says before he's walking over, pulling his mask off on the way, and leaning down. your head tilts up instantly to meet his lips in a kiss, your body warming with the way his hand pushes into the back of the couch, slender but muscular form caging you in.

you expect him to sit beside you and force you to give a recap of the episode, but he stands back, and then three other people come through the portal.

"oh ... are we expecting guests?" surprise sits in your words, the tone amplified when hobie takes your bowl of cereal out of your hands to finish it off himself.

"right," he speaks through mouthfuls, saying your name as an introduction to the other three. "this is pav, miles, and gwendy. spider people." you nod, waving at each.

"this here, is my girlfriend." three sets of spider-eyes widen with the admission and you can already sense what's coming.

"wow, you're pretty. 's nice to meet you."

"i knew it! i could sense the tension as soon as we got here."

"you have a girlfriend? wait. i thought you didn't like labels."

a small smile on your face as you tuck your hands in the pocket of hobie’s sweatshirt that you wear.

in coordination learned from how close you two are, you speak at the same time.

"he doesn't like consistency."

"don't like consistency, mate."

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown smut #hobie brown fluff #spider punk x reader #spider punk x you #spider punk #celeste writs mcu #hobiesworld!#hobie brown #spider man across the spider verse

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bedoballoons · 6 months

Note

Fontaine, Sumeru , Inazuma boys + Zhongli and Xiao with a GN! Darling that has Newts Briefcase from fantastic beasts

Your blog looks beautiful btw

Awwe thank you so much!! <3 I hope you enjoy!

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃

{༻~Reader with a briefcase like Newts~༺}

CW: Fluffy and magical! (Pet names: Lyney: Mon amour)

(Includes: Lyney, Zhongli, Tighnari, Heizou, and Xiao!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Lyney:

Lyney obviously didn't know every magic trick in Teyvat, that would be almost impossible, but he did know quite a few of them and he could usually figure out how others were done fairly quickly, but how your suitcase managed to hold a whole boar, crystalflies of every element, and tens more animals, some of which he'd never seen before, was beyond anything even he could imagine.

You'd left him speechless, mouth agape as he stared at you in awe, "Mon amour, how is this possible? How are you doing that?" You blushed slightly, seeing the way his eyes shun like that of child's when they see something magic for the first time, "I can't tell, it's a secret, but you're welcome to use it for one of your shows, just make sure to feed the scorpions, they get angry otherwise and they aren't very nice when they're angry."

𑁍༄Zhongli:

Zhongli stared at your happy face, your arms extended outwards, being used as a perch for at least 10 exotic birds...all of which had appeared from your suitcase. Originally he had assumed this was only possible because the work of an adepti, but upon closer inspection he saw no signs of adeptal power, infact it seemed completely foreign to him...which only made him more curious.

"You say it can hold as many animals as the forests of Liyue? That's certainly a incredible feat...may I asked how you've acquired such a unique and interesting treasure?" He smiled slightly at you, hoping you'd clear up the mysterious nature behind the briefcase, but you simply chuckled, "One day I'll tell you, but for now it would be far more fun to keep it a secret~"

𑁍༄Tighnari:

Tighnari was sitting in front of your suitcase with his eyes glued to it like at any moment it could actually explode, not because it was somehow holding more animals than he even knew of, but from the sheer amount power such a item would have to have. In all of his days of studying at the akademiya and traveling to other lands in search of new plant varieties, he'd never seen anything like it. "Does it contains exotic plants as well? Do each of the animals have their own ecosystems? If you shut the suitcase for to long does the oxygen run out or does the suit case somehow supply oxygen? Have you ever tried to go in the suit case?"

Your eyes widened at his many questions, more and more spilling from his lips before he could stop himself...frazzling you slightly. You hadn't expected him to get so excited about it, but even with his never ending questions, it was absolutely adorable to see him this way. It was like he'd found a miracle and he wanted to learn everything about it with you.

𑁍༄Heizou:

Heizou stuck his head into your suitcase, trying to find clues as to how it worked, but the detective was more than just stumped, he was simply baffled as to how something like it could even exist. "You weren't joking when you said you wanted to show me something beyond my imagination. I've seen Onis with horns fight beetles and gods who can make the air actually buzz with emotion, but I don't think I've ever seen anything that has come close to the mystery behind this. Do you think you could live in it?"

"I suppose you could, but I'm not exactly sure. You could be the test subject if you'd like." You winked at him teasingly and he smiled up at you, almost like he was actually considering it for moment, "I think I prefer the scenery in the outside world, but we could always take a romantic vacation together inside the suitcase~" Your cheeks turned a scarlett red as he giggled at you quietly, if you teased him, it was only fair he teased back.

𑁍༄Xiao:

Xiao kneeled down, softly scratching the underside of a mora weasels chin, unbothered by the fact the animal had just run out of your suitcase along side a fairly massive boar. You actually seemed more surprised by his reaction than he did of your suitcase, "So what do you think hmm?"

"I think,...it reminds of the teapots us adepti sometimes use. They appear normal on the outside, but on the inside it's a island specifically designed with our comfort in mind, I've never seen a suitcase version before though.." His eyes met yours and your heart skipped a beat, you responded without even thinking and it flustered you to no end, "Do you have a teapot? May I see it if you do?"

"...I...don't have one, maybe, one day...we can make one together?"

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

◥(•̀￦•́)◤☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 ☾𖤓~Have a nice day~*⁠.⁠✧

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reiderwriter · 6 months

Text

Dirty Cops

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: With a dirty cop killing women in the BDSM community running loose you and Spencer have to devise an equally dirty plan to catch him in the act.

Warnings: Kintober Day 22 - S&M, BDSM themes, public sex, oral sex, exhibitionism, bathroom sex, interrupted sex (both of them are cockblocked by the job).

A/N: I'M BACK! Sorry for the delay. This is the fic that has been beating my ass for about two weeks now. I fear I put too much detail into the case, and now I'm 6k words deep into a part one of a fic that should've been a 3k standalone.... oops! I hope you enjoy~

You sat in your office hands on your forehead as you desperately searched for the solution to your problems. 12 women, 12 homicides that VICAP had just spotted were easily similar. All in the same jurisdiction, and yet no connections made by their police force.

Something was going on in Tampa, and you needed to get to the bottom of it before another person died.

You supposed it didn't really help that some of the women had died in some pretty unorthodox ways. Strangulation, blunt force trauma, evidence of rope burns, and having been held hostage but not for long. Things your team was familiar with, but local detectives usually couldn't stomach.

As the BAU's brand new liaison officer, you got the job of convincing the local law enforcement to invite you in. They certainly weren't making it easy for you.

"Listen, I'm telling you there's something here, sir, if you'd just check the case files. We're only trying to help."

"You're trying to stick your nose in my departments business because you think your fancy FBI agents can handle my cases better than me."

"Sir, with all due respect -"

"Fine, you think you can come find whoever whacked these street whores you come and do it." You took in a sharp breath and paused, trying to make sure if you were hearing him correctly.

"What do you mean by whores, Captain? Choose your words very carefully." The warning was a bonus, knowing your voice had already done such a 180 he was probably regretting his previous word choices. As far as you knew none of the victims were wex workers. They mainly had office jobs or were even stay ah hone mom's.

"Each and every one of these women were jezebel's. Cheating, doing dirty things while showing their faces in church. They attended a certain establishment, not a Christian one, if you understand what I'm telling you, Miss."

"It's Agent, actually, and if you ever leave these details out of a case file ever again, I'll make sure to have your badge pinned up on my wall like a hunting trophy. Are we clear, Captain?" He stuttered out a yes, but you cut him off quickly.

"My team and I will arrive later today. Expect us for lunch." You said, slamming the receiver down and finally releasing a huff of breath you'd been saying for emergencies.

A whistle from the door finally draws your attention after a few minutes.

"Okay, Y/N," JJ clapped, looking impressed. "Who pissed you off?"

"Just the Captain at the precinct who just very politely invited us to consult on our next case." You threw the file in her direction as she set down the coffee she'd bought you, picking it up to peruse it. "Where's Hotch? I need to tell him we've got to go now before they change their minds."

"You know you want to say it," she teased as you began walking out of the office to find your elusive boss.

"Ha. Sure. Wheels up in 30, Jennifer." She raised her coffee in a salute to you as you finally took off, getting ready to go to war against an unhelpful police precinct.

–X–

With all the time you don't have, you end up briefing the team on the jet. You have to stand and grab the edge of the table as you try not to pace up and down the aisle.

"Twelve victims, all women between the ages of 20 to 28. He's crossing race lines, so I don't think they're placeholders." In all honesty, this case had pissed you off.

Twelve dead women and no one seemed to care until you phoned the department up yourself when VICAP flagged it all with you. Half of the cases had been closed for lack of evidence, and the other half so poorly investigated that you knew it was only a matter of time before they got boxed up and shelved too.

"The general public in Zephyrhills doesn't even know they have a serial killer. No one is being told to exert caution. There's no local press on this either."

"It says that these women were all killed, but there's no viable DNA they could pick up?" Morgan asks, looking up at you.

"That's right, no DNA evidence can be lifted, but spermicide was found on three of the victims."

"So our unsub was wearing a condom. He came prepared, and we were dealing with a serial rapist who has bridged into murdering his victims."

"There was no spermicide found on the other nine victims?" Emily looks up at you from her place at the small table.

"No. Rape test kits weren't run on any of the other victims because, quote: 'it was pretty obvious what had happened.' The precinct waited too long to collect the DNA evidence and now we don't have enough to locate, let alone prosecute an unsub based on DNA."

The whole team shared in your stressed look then, sending you matching sympathetic glances as they suddenly understood the herculean task you'd taken on trying to convince the locals to invite you in.

Not noticing the awkward silence that fell on the group, Spencer spoke up quickly from his place, standing beside you.

"You know, Zephyrhills is only about an hour away from Tampa. Tampa is the number one hook up spot in the US. It's residents boast on average 14 orgasms a month instead of the nationwide average of 12.5." He seemed pleased with the knowledge he'd just let everyone in on, as you looked back on him.

"Right. So our guy is trying to get his rocks off to out gun the rest of the country. Thanks, Spencer."

"It's relevant. It's says in the casefile here that three of our victims were last spotted on the highway making their way to Tampa, but then their bodies were found dumped in Zephyrhills. What if he's following them?"

"Spencer has a point, but if he's following them, what gets them to turn around? The cars were found abandoned in Zephyrhills, too, none of these women made it to Tampa." Hotch adds, and you make eye contact with him as your next thought comes to you.

"What could get someone to stop on a highway?" You ask, the question so simple, every single one of them knew the answer before you'd even finished asking.

"A cop." JJ filled in, and you all sat silently as you realised how dangerous this next case could truly be.

"We're about an hour out from arrival, everyone get some rest for now, I'm going to make a call to the nearest FBI Field Office, see if any of this is on their radar."

You slunked back to your seat at the back of the jet and sat down again, trying to get comfy but ending up just shifting multiple times in your seat.

Spencer joined you, sitting beside you, so close you could feel his eyes on you as your leg began to bounce. He put his hand over it and, with a strong hand, stilled the movement.

"Y/N, you did a good job connecting these cases." His voice was meek and calming, and you'd generally very much appreciate it if his hand weren't sending your body through some serious loops right then.

Your leg was on fire where he was touching you, his hand hot even through the fabric of your clothes. But when he pulled the hand away, watching your legs for any further tremors, you felt the need to snatch it back and replace it on your leg, certain that it would sooth the burning once more.

You snapped yourself out of it quickly. If you were thinking this way about Spencer of all people, then you really needed to get laid.

"Tampa's population consists of 43% singles, you know. Good statistics for getting laid." You twisted your head around to meet his eyes again.

"Tell me I didn't say that outloud." But his small smile dashed your hopes as you realised you just admitted to feeling incredibly horny because of his hand on your knee.

"If it's any consolation, I'm definitely the only one who heard it." His hand fell back to your thigh, and you twitched as it did, but you didn't move him.

"Fucking floridians and their goddamn 14 orgams a month," you muttered under your breath, hoping that he wasn't paying any attention to you now, seeing as how he'd opened up a book to hold in one hand.

"Lucky if I get even one and Florida man has 14 in him." You continue mumbling as you try to get cosy, closing your eyes and moving your head to find a comfortable position.

“You definitely said that one out loud.” He laughed, and you threw up your middle finger while letting your head fall back and your body take the rest it needed.

Without opening your eyes, you decided you needed the last word, a phenomenon you often found occurring in Spencer’s presence.

“A gentleman would pretend to not have heard that, Spencer.”

“I’m not a gentleman.” Annoyance prickled you at his reply, but you were too tired to say anything more as you caught up with the sleep that had been evading you for weeks.

–X–

Your landing in Florida comes almost too soon, and Hotch delegates tasks before you’ve even had the chance to properly get your feet beneath you after so long in the sky.

This case was becoming more of a mindfield with each of the pieces of information you’d received. Upon getting off of his call with the FBI Field Office closest to Zephryhills, Hotch had informed the team about an ongoing investigation into the police captain’s wife, whose pseudo-Christian church group were spewing vitriol about damn near every group you could think of.

“Religious discrimination, racism, sexism, homophobia and some pretty screwed up views of basically everything else, too.” Penelope had informed the group, pulling up the files that had been sent to her.

“It seems their most recent project is… Oh, how relevant. An adult establishment just opened up on the outskirts of Tampa, right on the highway that connects it to Zephyrhills. And from the boasts of the club owner on social media, it seems he’s telling anyone who listens that he’s not going to get shut down because the police are his main clientele.”

She sent through links to some of the posts to your iPads, and you angled the thing towards Spencer so he could take in the new information as well.

“Could we be looking at a religious motive to the murders? You said that the police captain called these women Jezebels. The name is biblical, she was a Queen who worshipped a false god and was defenestrated because of it, but over time, the uncapitalised jezebel, as you know, tended to refer to women with loose morals.”

“The motives could still be religious, but these women were raped. It says in the case files that Mrs. James’s church group is solely comprised of women, mostly the wives of the officers in the police force.”

Again, everything was leading you back to this stupid police precinct. You grimmaced as you realised that the next few weeks were going to be spent on the edge watching your back.

“Y/N, Reid, I want you both with me at the precinct when we land. Morgan, JJ, go to the church and interview some of the ladies there, see if you can’t push some buttons. Emily, Rossi, some of the family’s of the victims got in touch with the field office to request inquiries, go anf find out whatever you can about the last known whereabouts of these women.”

Now bracing yourself, you set your face in a neutral expression and let Spencer hold the door open for you as you walked into the station.

“Hello, we’re the agents from the FBI. Where can we find your captain?” You ask the receptionist at the chatting to her desk, but just as you finish your inquiry, another officer cuts you off, stepping half in front of you and demanding some files from the woman.

She stands awkwardly, sending you an apologetic glance as she scurries off to go and complete whatever busy work he’s just given her as you quietly seeth at his back.

The officer turns around to you and grins, sending you a smile as he walks off, apparently pleased with himself for foiling your attempts to find his boss.

“Y/N, keep a cool head. The captain’s office seems to be just ahead, I’m going to go and see if he’s there, smooth out some of the issues they seem to be having over here with our presence.” You nod and stay back with Spencer, who takes a quick seat behind you.

You don’t sit, though, too on edge and pissed off to get comfortable now.

The officers seem to ignore the two of you, bustling around you with no sense of shame, but you can tell they're watching you, hearing the low murmur of whispers.

When one of them decides to out their hands on you, though, you've decided you've had enough.

"Sorry, little lady, I need to get through. Important police business." He practically Leeds down at you as his hands grab your waist, meaning to move you aside to her you out of his path.

You don't give him the chance, grabbing his hands from your hips and twisting them behind his back quickly, shoving him face first into the nearest desk.

"Fuck, you little bitch. Come and control your partner, man." He struggles in your grasp, signalling to Spencer.

You grin as Spencer doesn't even look up at him, having pulled out a copy of War and Peace and settling nicely in his seat. You could tell he was on edge though, had seen the slight way his body tensed when you'd first been touched, and knew that if you'd needed it, he'd be there backing you up in a second.

"Sorry, are you talking to me?" He finally said, still not looking up from his book.

"Yes, get this bitch off of me."

"If you ask her nicely, I'm sure Agent Y/N would release you. As for me, I'm certainly not making her do anything she doesn't want to." He grinned as he said it, and you rolled your eyes slightly.

"Maybe if you told some of these other agents here to stop looking at her likes, she's a hunk of meat and greeted her respectfully instead of calling her… little lady, was it? Maybe then she'd be more generous." The man grumbled beneath you again, but before you could actually force his hand, Hotch and the Captain were exiting his office, obviously alerted by the crashing sound you'd made.

"Reid, Y/N, that's enough." Hotch signalled, and you complied, letting the man go and stepping back to Reid's side. He'd stood now, squaring his shoulders and making use of his quite intimidating height. You must seem tense, though, because the second you settle next to him, he puts a hand on your lower back, and you're surprised at how calm you instantly become.

Earlier, his touch had been fire and ice, and now it was relaxing you beyond belief. What the hell was wrong with your body recently?

"Thank you, sir," the officer said, straightening, dusting off his uniform as he levelled a glare at both you and Spencer. "I was beginning to think the FBI was just a bunch of sissy's and menstruators-"

"Cut the crap." Hotch barked out, and even you were startled by the sound. "Captain, if you or any member of your precinct says anything further about any member of my team, or god forbid puts a hand on them, I'll personally make sure this office is charged with conspiracy to murder for not investigating these deaths and aggravated assault of a federal officer. Do I make myself clear?"

The man seemed displeased at having his badge threatened for a second time in 24 hours, but nodded, dismissed the other officer, and finally shut up.

He has the female receptionist from earlier show you to the room you'd be using for your investigation for the next few weeks.

After making sure the room is secure, you place a call to Penelope and the others trying to gauge if they'd found any further leads.

"Some of the family members know exactly where they were going that night. One of them had a husband, said he was going with her, that they drove in separate cars because it was part of the thrill of it all." Emily's voice sounded tense and frustrated, and you could only sympathise silently before jumping in to ask her more questions.

"I thought they said it was an adult establishment? Does that not mean strip club?" You asked, perplexed at why the married couple would be going together.

"No, from what I can tell, it seems these women were members of the BDSM community, and that place… is somewhere they can practice."

"So even if we do somehow get another victim, any DNA test could be questionable evidence because they all left to have consensual sex." You sighed out and ran a stressed hand through your hair.

On your call with JJ and Morgan, you got much of the same.

"Oh, they're angry, alright. About the immigrants and the drug dealers, the homosexuals, and the jezebels. Seems they're working hard to get the club closed not just because it's a house of sin but also because the man who owns it might be an illegal immigrant."

"How quaint and Christian of them."

"Yep, and get this, the club's official title? Women for the Grace of God. There were no men in this group, Y/N. We're not going to find our unsub here."

Hanging up, you let your head hang, the fatigue of the case really kicking your ass.

"Spencer, draw the blinds, Y/N, lock the doors." Hotch ordered, and you listened, quickly making sure that no one was even close to the door. Returning to your seat, you noted the tense set of your boss's jaw and decided that whatever he had to say wasn't going to be good.

"Our unsub is in this precinct, which means we're not safe. But it also puts us in a unique position. They don't know we suspect them yet. We can force the unsubs hand."

You straightened in your chair, listening closer.

"You want to bait them out?" Spencer asked from his place beside you.

"I want you two to bait them out. You already got under a few of the officers' skin, push a few more buttons, and we could get our unsub to slip up."

"And how are we supposed to do that?" You asked, heart thumping in anticipation. You thought you already knew, but you needed to hear the words from his mouth to be sure.

"They're going after women in the BDSM lifestyle. Let's convince them that the two of you are also similarly involved."

He turned and left you with the decision then, leaving you and Spencer in the small room alone.

Your palms were sweaty, and you refused eye contact for a few minutes before he finally cracked and gave in first.

"It'd work." He whispered, suddenly closer than you remembered.

"What?"

"It would work. Whoever this guy is, he's getting off on dominating these women, seeing another man that he deems physically inferior dominating a woman who's already kicked an officers ass… that's enough to get him to crumble, slip up."

"So I'm supposed to just bend over and take it?"

"Bend over, yes, but I usually prefer women to be a bit bratty."

"What?" You found yourself blinking up at his face, even as the door swung open again, another officer walking into the small room you'd been left in.

You stepped away from Reid slightly, putting a more appropriate distance between the two of you before the man started talking.

"Well hello, I heard we had some feds in the office, thought I'd come introduce myself, but I didn't hear we had such a beautiful woman here, too. She a witness?" He directed the question to Spencer, but his leering eyes never left your body, trailing down slowly and disgustingly as you tried not to shudder under his gaze.

"I'm Doctor Spencer Reid, this is my partner, Agent Y/N. How can we help you?"

"Oh, I'm all set on my medicals, doc. You can't help me. Maybe she can if you let me take her out for a test drive?" Your blood boiled as he said those words, and you were about to send a cutting reply back to the man, when Spencer sat back down in his seat, snaking an arm around your waist to take you with him.

"Sorry, I don't lend out my private property." Stunned, you tried to act naturally about your new position, but his hand on your thigh slashes your brain capacity down by half, the only thought in your head running through Spencer Reid's possible sexual preferences.

"Oh, I see how it is. She's a slut, just not that kind. Okay, I'll bite, what's this one into? Choking, spanking? Careful, don't go too far or you'll be prime suspect number one for our perp."

"What are you insinuating, officer?"

"That these sluts you're asking about got in over their heads. Some women like it rough, practically beg for it. Poor guy just did what they were asking." Biting your tongue, you let the man keep digging his own hole, as Spencer kept him talking.

"Actually, contrary to popular opinion, in most sado-masochistic relationships, the submissive partner is the one in control. They have power to stop whatever role play is going on in the scene through safe words and actions, and the dominant role is more of a protective role, requiring a deep level of commitment and care for their sub." As he said it, he turned your face to his, hooking a finger under your chin and then stroking your face as you fell further into his body.

You almost forgot the other officer was there until you heard his grumbled reply, turning your head slightly to whisper in Reid's ear.

"Long shot, Doc." With that, you climbed from his lap, turning back to the other officer with a grin.

"Sorry, was there anything professional we could help you with? Or would you like to go and deal with your little problem alone in the men's bathroom now?" He turned on his heels and exited swiftly, face red with rage at your insinuations.

"Okay. I'll admit, it's going to work. But we're going to need to set up some bait and deliver the profile to them to make sure we have each and every one of their attentions."

"I'll notify, Hotch."

"Spencer, wait." He stopped at the door and turned back to listen to you. "Earlier when you said… when you mentioned that you'd prefer…" You tried to ask the question but it seemed the question just wasn't going to form on your lips so you simply let out a small frustrated humph and let him figure out the rest.

"Y/N, I… I don't know how to answer that question and still act professionally around you."

He left the room shortly after, and you couldn't help but feel disappointed at the distance suddenly kept between the two of you. You were beginning to become much too distracted by Spencer Reid.

–X–

"Let's have another rundown again, just so we're all clear on the play by play on this." Morgan said as you and Spencer were wired up, ready for your operation.

It wasn't exactly undercover, but it wasn't quite straight police work either, but here you were. After giving the profile earlier, you'd noted that three of the officers had seemed a little bit fidgety under all the new information they were getting, all three of them matching your profile.

Unluckily for you, they just happened to be the Captain in charge of the precinct, Detective Handsy from your first trip into the office, and Detective Dumbass, who'd asked you and Spencer all about BDSM earlier that day.

Penelope had filled you in on each of their backgrounds. The Captain was second generation police force, but court of public opinion had ruled that his father wasn't exactly an upstanding guy, a report corroborated by his mother's multiple accidents and trips to the ER. Detective Handsy had a misdemeanour sex crime expunged from his juvenile record for masturbating in public - on the unconscious girl who sat next to him on the bus.

Detective Dumbass seemed to be the police contact for all the local prostitutes. He'd busted at least thirty in three months, and each of them had reportedly tried to turn him in as the John who'd paid for their services.

"Run through it again." Morgan brought you down to earth as JJ finished attaching the wire under your clothing, handing you the small in ear so you could hear updates from the team.

"We walk into the bar, get a little too close for comfort than they'd like, then ask the bartender where we can have some fun around here. She's been prepped to give us the answer we want, and we set out on the highway where Rossi and Hotch are waiting in unmarked cars to give us an escort until our unsub takes the bait and tries to pull us over."

"Good, now, Spencer, do I have to show you where to put your hands, or do you think you've read enough to figure out how to push the right buttons?" From the grin on his face, it was evident he was enjoy pushing the younger man's buttons but you could tell he wasn't doing it maliciously. The two of you were both tense and on edge, and you needed that waylaid somehow.

"Trust me, Morgan, I think he knows where his fingers should go." You said before grabbing Spencer’s hand and dragging him out of the vehicle, not letting him go until you were right by the door of the bar.

You didn't really let him go either, it's more like he caught up to you and moved his hand from yours to your ass instead, pulling you closer into his body as you made to move inside the bar.

He hesitated a moment outside, though.

"Y/N, we haven't talked about boundaries yet. I'm going to have to touch you in there and-"

"You have my permission. For anything." Your words come faster than you expect, but they're there, filling the silence of the night quickly.

"Anything?" He asks, a small play lighting up his lips as he pulls you in closer. You can feel his breath on your skin, and you almost take back your words until he lowers his head. Your lips are barely an inch apart and getting slowly closer as you angle your head up towards him, when the bar doors swing open and he turns and pulls you inside instead.

You recover quickly, trying to focus on the twelve women who need to find justice rather than the many things you suddenly want Spencer Reid to be doing to you.

You slide into a booth at the edge of the bar but you'd canvassed the place earlier, knowing that while it appeared to be a quiet corner, every other table had a clear view of your actions in the corner.

Surely enough you felt a few pairs of eyes on you as you sat down, a little closer for comfort than you expected.

"Well, Penelope's sources were correct. It seems like every cop in town is here tonight." You said, whispering the words into Spencer's neck, just above where his own wire was placed, making sure the words were heard by both him and the members of your team left in the surveillance van.

"Show time," he said, grabbing your hands and bringing them to his lips as you stood. He gave your ass a quick slap as you made to walk towards the bar, and you sent him back a wink as you walked to order your drinks.

Ordering them quickly, you took a simple scan of the room, noting that all three of your suspects were social butterflies tonight. They all sat on different tables, but each had at least another man with him, and every single one of them was looking at you presitorially.

Returning to your seat with the drinks, you never felt their gazes leave you.

"Certainly caught their attention. What now?" You asked hesitantly, sliding up against Spencer’s body again.

"Now we give them a show." He said, snaking a hand between your legs and forcing them apart gently. You'd changed into a shorter skirt and smaller top before coming back out, needing to look the part of the slut they'd already deemed you.

You smiled up at Spencer as he stoked your thigh suggestively, but he never moved it further up.

"Spencer, kiss me." You said, eyelids heavy as you begged the man to take you further than touching.

"Why?" He asked softly in your ear.

"Because a few of our suspects are getting restless, and I want to see if we can tip some of them over the edge. Obviously you're smarter than trying to stick your hand up my skirt in public surrounded by a group of cops who would happily stick you in a cell for the night for public indecency, so you're just going to have to stick your tongue down my throat."

"Here I was thinking maybe you wanted it," he grumbled but complied anyway, grabbing the back of your head with his free hand and pulling you towards him. The kiss wasn't soft. It wasn't gentle the way his caresses were. It was hot and it was demanding, and when he pulled away after a minute and your lips followed his desperate for more he grabbed your hair and pulled you backwards, baring your neck to him easily as he moved his lips down slightly.

Opening your eyes then, you again surveyed the bar, noting that the Captain and his friends were leaving, sending a stink eyed glare in your direction as they threw down their cups and left.

"Morgan, get eyes on the Captain. Make sure he goes home and stays there," you breathe out quietly, waiting to hear the affirmative in your ear as Spencer kept his head buried at your neck.

In another second, he was off you, taking a swig only his drink as he smoothed your hair down again. You do your best to ignore the history pooling between your legs and the haze clouding up your brain as you stare at him swallow the drink, watching a small stream of the soda you'd ordered him instead run down his chin.

You watched it fall and, in a moment of thoughtlessness, pressed forward to lap it up from his neck. He'd spent time marking you. What harm could this do now?

However you rationalised it, you knew it was just an impulse, one greatly rewarded by his hands pulling your hips over his and a growl in your ears.

"Anything?" Was the only thing he said, and you pulled away to look into his eyes again before he pulled you in for another kiss.

"Sorry to interrupt, love bunnies, but we've had a change of plan. Two of our suspects are out, and they've bailed and been safely and discreetly escorted home by FBI agents from the field office. Hotch and Rossi are on the way back. He thinks we can nail him in there and get him to act out."

Pulling back from the kiss long enough to whisper your reply to Morgan into Spencer's mic, you can barely tear your eyes away from the man.

"What do you want us to do?"

"Men's bathroom is free. Hotch thinks if we make it look like you're doing something less than holy in there that it could force his hand. Especially because he's shown voyeuristic tendencies in the past."

"Shit. Detective Dumbass?"

"Only one left. And his name is Dunbar. You'd do well to remember that in the paperwork."

Pulling yourself up and out of Spencer's lap, you took a swig of your drink again as you stood.

"Follow me in three minutes." He grabs you by your wrist and turns you back around to him again, though before you can leave.

"Y/N, we're going to get this guy. After we do, I think we should talk." Instead of answering him, you pressed another lingering kiss to his lips and moved out again, heading directly to the dark corridor where the bathrooms were.

You slipped into the men's easily enough, thankful that it was empty. It was a single stall, and when you heard the knock on the door two minutes later, you were suddenly thankful that it was, because it meant that you could lock the door behind him and not risk anyone else coming in while you baited your unsub.

Spencer placed a hand to his lips as soon as he made it through the door, pulling out his phone to type out a message to you without speaking.

"Followed me. Think he's listening outside."

You pulled your own out to answer him.

"Let's give him a show then."

The both of you discarded your phones on the countertop of the bathroom and suddenly collided again, as if you were two magnets who could no longer resist the pull.

Your lips fought hungrily, and now you didn't pull back your voice letting all the moans of pleasure fall from your mouth and fill the bathroom.

His hands were on you in an instant, pushing you back against the door, letting the creep behind the wall hear as much as possible as his hips found yours and you started grinding against him like your life depended on it.

You could no longer tell what you were doing for the case, and what you were doing out of the simple desire to do so, wrapped up in all of the pleasure he was giving you in that minute. And that was before he started talking.

"You like that, whore? You like feeling my hands on you out here in this dirty bathroom." You clenched around nothing, even as his hands trailed lower, reaching the top of your skirt just as you replied.

"Yes, I like that, Daddy. Please touch me more."

You crashed together again, even as Spencer's hand fell inside your skirt and panties suddenly reaching for your clit. You forgot everything. The bathroom, the unsub, the wire you were wearing. When his hands were on you your only thoughts were him.

You gasped in delight as he began rubbing you, moaning out heartily, not bothering to restrain your voice. Even if there was not a murderer on the other side of the door, you'd have wanted everyone to know how good he was making you feel.

"Kneel," he says, and you listen, getting down to the dirty floor for him and looking up at him innocently.

"Now what, sir?" You ask, teasing him with a smile. He gives your face a light slap in reply, but the sound is sharp, and you can hear some movement outside. You don't get to think about it for too long, however, as he suddenly removes his cock from his pants.

"Suck" is all the instruction you need before you're taking him into your mouth and wrapping your tongue around him.

After the entire night of teasing, you don't have to be told twice. You take him down your throat until you're gagging, but he puts his hands on your head and pushes you further anyway.

"That's it, baby, such a nice little slut just for me." He holds your hair as he begins fucking your face, softly whispering insults into the quiet bathroom.

"Perfect little slut, letting me do this here. For anyone to see and hear how much you like my dick down your throat. I should unlock this door, show everyone how nicely you take my cock."

You moan around him, desperately gripping his thigh as you struggle to breathe. He finally pulls out, pulling you up by your hair until you're face to face with him again, saliva dripping from your mouth.

"Is that how you like it?" He asks, and you nod fervently.

"Yes, sir. Please fuck me now, I've been such a good little girl."

He turns you and presses you against the door again. As you turn your ear to it, you can hear some pacing outside of it as he lifts up your skirt.

You were ready to feel this perfect bliss, right up to the moment Morgan decided to remind you of the task at hand.

"Hotch is here. We've got him cornered. Great acting, guys. We're thinking if Y/N exits the bathroom now, we can catch him trying to carry her off."

His hands stilled on you, and you both stared guiltily into each other's eyes. You kept your sounds up, definitely acting now, feeling as though you'd just been doused in ice-cold water.

Footsteps retreating down the hall had you suddenly nodding in response to each other, faking your orgasm with one last large gasp followed by a few minutes of silence and you straightened your clothes ready to bait the unsub once again. He tucks himself into his pants, and you loudly discuss your plans for separate exits.

"I'll meet you back at the table in five." He says, and with another lingering look, you're out the door and alone in the dark corridor, feeling empty and needy.

It was time to catch a killer.

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lightseoul · 11 months

Text

a/n. short continuation of sober

"wh—what?"

bakugou shakes his head, eyes droopy. "i said, i want to kiss you."

your throat is now dry. "you must be joking."

"am not," he drawls. "i'm fuckin' sober."

at that, you let out an involuntary snort. "sure, big guy."

he frowns, pouting. "you don't believe me?"

your stomach flips at his challenge. you've spent all this time trying to suppress your feelings for him, and now he's making it all the more difficult?

when you don't answer, he simply asks another question.

"why did you resign? was there something i did or said that chased you away?"

"just personal reasons," you offer.

"like what?"

you shake your head, "i'm not obliged to give a detailed account of my reasoning to you. HR's the one in charge of that information."

"really?" he questions, voice small. "if i begged you to tell me, would you?"

"you? begging?" you cackle. if there's anything bakugou katsuki would most definitely not do, it's begging, let alone begging you—a mere sidekick.

"i would do it you know," he says like he's thought about it before and is now 100% sure of it. "i just need to know why you quit."

you're not about to tell him it's because you have a big, fat, embarrassing crush on him, so you lie through your teeth. "i'm planning to start my own agency with some pro hero friends."

almost instantly, bakugou deflates in his seat.

"oh."

"not that i hate my current job or anything," you quickly add before scrambling to conjure more lies. "it's just that—"

"do you hate me?" he asks out of the blue, you almost choke in surprise.

"no!" you exclaim, and you do so fervently because you don't. in fact, you have to leave because how you feel about bakugou is veering dangerously close to like.

he lets out a sigh of relief upon hearing your response. "good. i was...worried."

before you could even stop yourself, you ask: "why?"

at that, he shrugs, somewhat refusing to meet your gaze. "i think i like you, whatever the fuck that means."

your heart leaps to your throat. you scramble for an acceptable response.

"i liked having you as my boss, too, bakugou."

a pause.

"hah?"

your eyebrows furrow. "what?"

"i don't mean it that way, idiot." he shakes his head before heaving a sigh in exasperation. "i like like you. don't you get it?"

oh, god.

this can't be happening.

"...i don't think i do."

at that, he sighs again, visibly frustrated at your lack of understanding. "dumbass."

"hey!"

he shakes his head. "i've been dropping hints left and right. i can't believe you missed all of them."

if what he's saying is true, and with the knowledge you have of bakugou, those hints sure as hell weren't obvious. all he did was tease you, call you a plethora of nicknames including your actual one, refuse to have any other sidekick aside from you, and search for you in his drunken haze.

oh.

"fuck."

he snorts. "i agree."

you stand there in shock for what feels like an hour before regaining your capacity for speech.

"how am i supposed to know this isn't just some alcohol-fueled ruse?"

"confront me tomorrow," he says easily. "i'll have a hard time denying it."

literally just whipped this up in 30 minutes. i hope it wasn't too bad lmao

as always, reblogs and comments are much appreciated <3

#bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou imagine #bakugou fluff #bakugou x you #bnha imagine #bnha scenarios #mha imagines #bnha imagines #bkg

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torasplanet · 3 months

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❝𝙏𝙃𝙍𝙀𝙀 𝙒𝙊𝙍𝘿𝙎.ᐟ❞

K. BAKUGOU, S. TODOROKI, & I. MIDORIYA + SHY!GN. READER

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 ; the main three when their shy/anxious s/o finally says 'i love you'<3

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 ; fluff, hcs + scenarios, new relationships, literally that's it and skin color not mentioned

IZUKU MIDORIYA

izu just can't with this.

he understands how you're shy and all of that so it might take you some time to get comfortable saying those things

hell he even was scared to say it too but this long??? really?

izu has begun to think that you'd never say it at this rate...

he got so scared that you didn't love him at all and was just too scared to tell him the truth because you didn't wanna hurt his feelings!

or maybe he's just overthinking again...

that doesn't matter because izu never tells you his concerns. he wants you to take your time

he doesn't wanna rush you and make it forced!

that being said...when you finally do say it on your own, he thinks he just might lose his mind.

izuku's anxious sitting at his desk with you right beside him almost breaking the pencil in half and it was a mechanical pencil. he was holding back because he didn't want to frighten you but he just couldn't sit here while you're looking so cute.

he wanted to say he loved how cute you looked so bad but he was worried that maybe it'd make you uncomfortable since you weren't saying i love you to him yet.

that had been getting to him a lot lately and he didn't know how to handle it without talking to you. he knew how you were and didn't want to make it worse. see izuku himself was a fairly shy person, well not so much as he was in middle school but he understood you and your feelings but not enough for it to not bother him!

"ohhh! i get it now!" you exclaimed leaning back in your chair. your sudden loud speech snapped izuku out of his thoughts and he smiled at you sweetly with a hum escaping him.

you gave him a grin "thanks izu! i love you, i don't know what i'd do without you." you spoke without thinking and immediately closed your eyes out of embarrassment at what he'd say in response. you didn't think about what you were saying, you just said the first thing that came to mind...when you heard a loud bang, you opened your eyes and looked at your boyfriend with wide eyes.

izu's face was planted on the desk and he was letting out a hum that didn't seem positive or anything; more like he was a kettle on the stove. "oh uhm...are you okay?" you hesitantly asked going to reach for him but he snapped up before you could touch him. izuku's face was bright red and it looked like he was burning up "i love you too!" he shouted with a smile on his face clearly happy that you finally said that. you were a bit weirded out but at least he was happy.

KATSUKI BAKUGOU

oh please don't even get me started on katsuki...

like izu, he was really upset about you not saying you love him especially when he said it to you first and you didn't say it back

but unlike izuku, he could give less than a fuck about not wanting to talk to you about it

the only thing that stopped him from doing that was that denki told him that he'd probably hurt your feelings like that and that was the last thing he wanted to do so for once, he shut up

but his aggression was fairly obvious because every time he said he loved you with that frown on his face, it'd get deeper when you didn't say it back and just smiled at him

katsuki felt like he'd actually blow up a building if you took longer to say it.

"what the hell are you doing up there!?" katsuki shouted from down below in the training area while you stood on one of the buildings looking for denki who was supposed to be your other partner.

you looked down at the masked boy very cautiously i might add and just nervously gave him an 'uh' showing you didn't know. katsuki grunted in frustration as he looked around to see if there was any one from the other team around to make sure that you guys didn't lose. he was already beginning to sweat just from pure anger.

when the class was splitting up to go to the locker rooms for costume changes, katsuki had told you he loved you and that he'd see you on the grounds but...you didn't say it back. you just laughed a bit showing that you were growing embarrassed and gave him a very small peck on his cheek.

see katsuki did appreciate that but he wanted an 'i love you' back not a kiss especially not a little baby kiss to the cheek that one of his cousins would give him but again, he stayed silent and just grumbled under his breath in the lockerroom. he was already pissed off from that but now denki was nowhere to be found? that dumb fucker was probably lost.

little did the both of you know, he was behind you planning on surprising you which was not the best idea considering you were almost dangling over the edge of a building right now. "boo!" denki shouted in your ear making you jump and lose your footing. you slipped and fell off the edge of the building with a yelp drawing your boyfriend's attention.

he was quick to blast up into the air and catch you in his arms before you even slightly neared the ground "oh my god! i love you so much 'suki!" you said in desperation as you wrapped your arms around him and clutched onto him in fear that you'd fall. katsuki would never drop you but he almost did when he heard you finally say it back to him.

"ha! i thought you'd never say it!" katsuki shouted with a grin on his face as he landed on the ground, your face still stuffed in his shoulder. you hadn't even realized what you said until he just pointed it out "oh..." you muttered feeling embarrassment creep up on you as your boyfriend put you on the ground. you put your palms to your face to cover you hot face but the blonde grabbed your hands and forcefully pulled them away from your face "stop that shit! if you think i don't love you back, i do." katsuki said muttering the last part a little lower because denki was shouting apologies from the top of the building and could probably hear a few things.

katsuki had a bit to learn about embarrassment when saying that kind of stuff too.

SHOTO TODOROKI

pls dont ever talk to him about this

he'll actually just sit there silent probably dying inside

shoto has had his fair share of not getting told i love you or getting a sort of warped kind of love so you not saying i love you isn't something relatively new to him

but he still hates it.

he can't even begin to explain the ache in his chest when ou don't say it back to him, not like he'd ever explain it to anyone

unlike both of the other boys, he's extremely patient and no matter how he feels, he won't throw small tantrums over you not saying it and will just wait

but as he waited, he got more needy for hearing those three words

"sho..." you whined dragging out the o in your boyfriend's name while you tried to get up from under the many blankets shoto had you bundled under. he had the whole work for you.

thermometer on the bedside desk and cold medicine right next to it while you continuously sneezed and coughed in bed. you had gotten sick recently and your darling two-toned-haired boyfriend had been there for every step! making you food, running your baths, just being a complete sweetheart.

shoto, by default, was a sweet boyfriend but he had been a little extra kind lately in hopes that you'd tell him that you loved him for all of his efforts of going out of his way for you. he didn't know what was going on in your brain but he clearly knew you well because that was what you were planning to do.

telling the boy that you loved him would be the perfect way to express your gratitude to him for all he's done throughout your sickness that was caused by your stupidity of going to the market in the cold night after getting out of the shower "coming, my love." shoto said waddling into the room with a bowl of steaming ramen on the small wooden table he had in his hands to make it easier for you to eat in bed. he was really playing the house husband role.

"here, the broth will make you feel better. i promise." the boy said setting the table on the bed just above your legs while kneeling to the ground, you smiled at the todoroki boy deciding that this was the perfect time to tell him that you loved him.

with a blow toward the scalding bowl, you uttered the words quietly "i love you sho." you grew shy after saying that not knowing how he'd respond and his silence ate you alive. you grabbed your chopsticks as you kept your head down to avoid eye contact "sorry, just ignore it–" "no." he interrupted your excuse almost making you knock the bowl over with now fast your body turned to look at him again.

sho's cheeks were flushed a light pink "i love you too. just didn't expect you to say that." he said chuckling lightly with a smile on his face. it might've been true that he wished for you to say it now but it still surprised him.

in a good way though... "can i have a kiss?" you asked smiling back at your boyfriend who still gave you a close-eyed grin, sho stood to his feet "no. you will get me sick." he replied in a monotone before beginning to walk away muttering how he was going to get you something to drink.

you whined loudly throwing your head back. "sho....!"

#torasplanet.ᐟ #marls-fics.ᐟ #mha x reader #mha #bnha x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader #todoroki x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #deku x reader #izuku x reader #bnha fluff #◛⑅·˚♡sho-sho!!#◛⑅·˚izu~#◛⑅·˚katsuki>3<

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luvyeni · 9 months

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I really love your I.N mini skirt fic and I was thinking if you could write a continuation something like this Jeongin will choose an outfit so he choose something really baggy (his shirts or sth). He thought he did a great job until the members start swooning on how cute you look in big clothes. Jeongin at this point just felt defeated cuz you look good in everything. Cute and fluff and…….SMUT 😈

❛PROVE IT❜ ( y. jeongin )

pairings. yang jeongin x fem!reader words. 1.2k

warnings? established relationship , boob play , fingering , unprotected sex , cockwarming

— 𖦹 ( proving how much you love jeongin after he's left feeling jealous ) !

jeongin watched you pick your outfit out for the day , you guys were supposed to be meeting up for lunch at chans house , and once again your outfit was a bit too revealing for his liking.

normally he never questioned it , in fact he loved when you wore revealing clothes — well that's when you where alone. he still let you wear whatever you want , but he was protective , especially in front of his friends.

"princess." you spun around , in your underwear. "yes love?" he stood up off the bed. "how about i pick out your outfit today , wouldn't that be fun." you stared at him blankly. "i don't know , i really wanted to wear that skirt." you pouted.

"baby , you know i love that skirt , but i just thought it would be fun." he said , you just couldn't say no to that cute face. "fine , i'll wear the skirt for girls night next week." he'll deal with that when the night comes , deciding to celebrate the win. "let's see what you pick."

he took a look at your closet , finding the best pair of baggy pants you owned ( which weren't many ) , handing them to you. "okay , these are nice , what about pants?"

he thought about it , before going to his side of the closet , searching for a shirt , he knew he had to find a shirt you'd like or else you wouldn't go through it. "what about this?" he pulled out your favorite shirt of his. "really , i can wear that." he smiled , nodding.

"of course baby , see now you have a nice outfit to wear to chans house , go get dressed while i find you some accessories." you went back into the bathroom , and jeongin felt a weight lifting off his shoulders , smiling as he dug through his jewelry to find you something , just an extra sign that you're his.

jeongin actually felt good , you looked really nice , and he didn't have to worry about getting comments from his members — that's what he thought at first.

the first hour or two it went great , no one questioned your outfit , you guys ate lunch , chatting with everyone. changbin was the first one to finally take notice of your outfit.

"wah ( name ) ! your outfit." he shouted. "it's so nice." you smiled. "you like it?" innie picked it out." you praised your boyfriend. "that's his shirt right ?" han spoke up. "yup."

"you look so much better than him in it." seungmin teased , jeongin rolled his eyes. "stop that." you put your hand on his knee , trying to settle his nerves.

jeongin on the other hand — he was salty , because the compliments didn't stop , they all cooed at you and told you how cute you looked the entire time , up until you both decided it was time for you guys to go.

saying all your goodbyes , you guys started your travels back to your apartment , the entire ride home he was silent , you knew something was wrong , you knew it from the moment he told you to put another outfit on.

"baby?" you let him sulk a bit more , doing your nightly routine before joining him in your room. "can you stop being so sulky now , we're home now , you can tell me what has been bothering you since we left this morning." he had been caught.

"how'd you know?" you chuckled. "you let me wear your shirt and your jewelry , i didn't have to steal it from you." he pouted , as you climbed into his lap. "now tell me what's bothering you." he sighed , embarrassed.

"you're too pretty." you were taken aback. "im too pretty?" he hummed. "and i thought that maybe if i put you in something that wasn't like what you normally wear then they wouldn't pay attention to you , but it back fired , you're just to pretty and everything you wear will attract attention and it makes me jealous."

it actually makes you feel bad that he thinks like this. "innie." you grabbed his face , making him look you in the eyes. "i love you , and only you , i've told you this." you said. "i don't want anyone else but you , not your members , not a random at a bar , you."

"you promise?" you nodded , "i swear." you pressed your lips against his. "i love you so so much." he smiled , his eyebrows wiggling. "how much do you love me?" regardless of his playful state , you could feel his hardening cock in his shorts. "you want me to prove it?" you moved your hips. "sh-shit ( name )."

you got off his lap , he undid his pants , taking them off. you got in between his legs , bending down , kissing his cock through his underwear. "gonna make you feel better." you looked up at him , slowly dragging his underwear down , his cock standing tall , his mushroom tip dripping with pre-cum.

you kissed his tip , pulling away with a string of his pre-cum on your lips. "ba-baby , you're supposed to be making it up to me , don't be a tease." his voice telling you that he wasn't joking , taking him into your mouth.

"fuuuuck." he drew out his words , throwing his head back. "your mouth feels so good." you immediately got to work , bobbing your head up and down , holding his thighs. "look at me baby."

you listened , looking up at him locking eyes. "so fucking pretty baby." he groaned. "you're pretty any other day , but you look even more pretty when you're taking my cock down your tiny throat."

you hollowed your cheeks , sloppily sucking him off , gagging on his cock when he pushed your head down , holding you there as he bucked his hips up , fucking for face. "sh-shit , im gonna cum— ngh fuck ! " he shot his cum to the back of your throat , coating it white.

"good fucking girl , get up here." he pulled you into your into his lap , wiping the droplets off cum off your lips. "open up pretty girl." he pushed his fingers into your mouth. "good."

he rubbed your clit through your silk shorts , pulling them to the side. "gonna let me fuck you right?" you nodded , grinding on his cock. "please , want it inside." you whined. "go ahead and sit on it."

you hovered right above his cock , lowering yourself on him. "mhm fuck , you took me so well." he grunted , your wet cunt squeezing him ever so tightly. "m-made just for me." you bounced on his cock , he held your waist.

"innie." you whined. "wan' a kissed." he held the back of your neck , kissing your lips , moving his hips with yours , the knot in your stomach building up.

"love your pussy so much , feels so good." he moaned against your lips. "it's mines right , tell me it's mines." he moved his hands from the back of neck to the front , choking you , you gasped for breath. "tell me." he growled.

"m-my pussy i-is yours." he sped his hips up. "that's it , you're mine." his sharp thrust sent you over the edge. "fuck!" you screamed , cumming. "fuck , gonna breed this pussy." he grunted , thrusting up a few more times , before cum shot from his cock , whitening your insides.

"fuck , shit!" he cursed , your pussy milking him for everyone he had. he sighed , kissing your forehead. "im not done baby." he whispered.

"you still have a lot of proving up to do."

©️LUVYENI

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angels-fantasy · 23 days

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hi!! i really like your work and i was wondering if you could do like a katsuki bakugou x reader where bakugou is putting the reader at risk of being harmed because of her being one of his loved ones and then bakugou purposely fights with the reader and then just walks out on her thinking it’s for the better and then a couple weeks later the reader finds out she’s pregnant and keeps the child a secret for a couple years until she runs into bakugou and then he wants a do-over or something like that 🥹

Second Chances (Request)

Katsuki Bakugou x Fem!Reader

Details/Warnings: CW: Pregnancy Cw: Children, some angst, domestic fluff, dad bakugou, also soft bakugou hahaha.

Word Count: 2.9k

this idea is SOOOO cute i love it sm and it was really fun writing this. i hope i did your idea justice!! thank you sm for requesting anon :D i literally got so excited when i saw it got a request hehehe

Getting with Katsuki Bakugou was a dream come true. You two had been through thick and thin, and you had it all. Great jobs, a home together, and a strong relationship. Everything seemed perfect in your eyes, until one day Katsuki decided it wasn't enough for him.

Well, it was enough for him. It was more than enough actually. He loved you with all his heart and wanted a future with you, but doing that would put you at risk.

Ever since he was a little boy and dreamed of being a hero, he was warned of the risks the job came with. Not only would he be in great danger, but his loved ones too.

For a long time he believed he was strong enough to take on the world and every villain it had, no matter the threats they made towards him.

In his entire career, no villain had ever threatened a loved one of his, until recently. A damned villain had brought you up in the midst of the fight, spewing all kinds of bullshit he'd do to you that Katsuki would never want to even imagine.

For the first time in a long time, Katsuki reached a breaking point.

The disgusting things that villain said about you made him realize that he couldn't continue putting you in danger like this, so he had to find a way to end things.

He knew you wouldn't accept the real reasoning behind the break up, so he had to come up with something else.

You sat across the kitchen table from Katsuki with tears filled in your eyes. Seeing you like this hurt him more than ever, but he had to stay strong.

"How could this not be enough for you Katsuki?" You cried, "How could I not be enough for you?"

He looked down at the table to avoid your broken expression, "How else am I supposed to fuckin' say it huh? I don't wanna be with you anymore."

You shook your head, "Stop looking at the table and look at me when you say that. If you can look me in the eyes and tell me you really don't want to be with me, then you can leave."

It took everything left in Katsuki to lift his head up and look you in your eyes. He tried his best to put on a poker face, but you both knew it wasn't working.

"I don't want to be with you anymore."

Your face scrunched up slightly as you held back tears. "Okay Katsuki. If that's what you really want."

...

Having to hear Katsuki move out of your apartment was just another reminder of your relationship crumbling right before you, and it felt like the end of the world.

You don't know how long you laid in bed crying silently, but suddenly you heard Katsuki's voice from the door of your bedroom.

"I'm leaving now." He said quietly.

You played with a thread on the pillow next to you, choosing to ignore him.

He shuffled awkwardly at your silence. "Um, Bye. I guess."

"Bye Katsuki." You said quietly.

You stayed quiet until you heard the front door shut behind him, then you let yourself cry.

...

It was almost two months later, and you were starting to feel a bit better about the break up. It was hard sometimes, but you had a good support system and kept yourself busy.

Now though you were feeling better emotionally, you weren't really feeling well physically.

When you confided in your best friend about this, she told you words you really didn't want to hear.

"Maybe you're pregnant?" Uraraka suggested after hearing your symptoms.

You shook your head, "No way! And if I am, that's horrible! I can't raise a baby by myself. That's a two person job..."

She stayed quiet, now feeling a bit awkward when she remembered the messy breakup between you and Katsuki.

"I'd be here for you, you know that right?" She said and wrapped her arms around you. "I should have a few tests in my bathroom, do you wanna go take some?"

You bit your lip in thought. "I dunno. I'm scared."

She leaned her head on your shoulder, "I'll be with you every step of the way. You're my best friend okay? You should take the test sooner than later so that way if you are pregnant, you can start taking care of yourself and the baby."

You leaned your head on hers, "You're right. I'll do it."

Moments later after peeing on three sticks and looking at the results, you felt your heart drop to your stomach.

You opened the door and faced Uraraka, who was pacing in anticipation.

"Well? What does it say?!" She asked.

You held up one of the tests, "Looks like I gotta start eating for two."

...

5 years later

After finding out you were pregnant five years ago, you decided you weren't going to tell Katsuki. Maybe it was wrong, but you didn't care.

He had made it very clear he didn't want to be with you anymore, and you weren't going to hold him back from whatever plans he had.

You had also decided it'd be a good idea to move out of Musutafu, at least an hour away from him and anyone else that knows him. You didn't want the word of you having his child spreading around and eventually reaching him.

The only person you told were your parents and Uraraka, who promised she'd keep it a secret from Katsuki and everyone associated with him. The two of you kept in touch and she would occasionally visit you when she wasn't busy with hero work.

So now here you were with your 4-year old little girl, Keiko. She had some of your features, but of course her father's genes overshadowed yours despite him not even being in the picture.

The biggest resemblance between them was their eyes, which you hated temporarily, but grew to love again because of her.

"Mama! Mama!" Keiko called from the top of the slide, "Come play with me!"

You stood up from the bench with a sigh and made your way over to the bottom of the slide. "Okay Koko but be careful up there! I don't want you to get hurt."

She shook her head and scrunched up her face, "I'm strong! I don't get hurt Mama!" and then slid down to meet you at the bottom.

Once she got there, she slid into your legs and got surprised at the light impact but giggled anyways.

You reached down and picked her up, "What are you laughing at huh Koko?" You asked and tickled her.

She continued laughing her little heart out and you smiled at her, loving to see your daughter in such a good mood.

A few hours later, you found yourselves at the grocery store, shopping for new snacks Keiko could take to school.

You held up a pack of yogurt cups to your daughter, who was sitting in the basket.

"You want some of these baby? They have blueberry and strawberry flavor."

"I want blueberry!" She said.

You nodded, "Good choice."

The two of you continued shopping around for a few more minutes, until you felt your heart stop.

Down the same aisle, you saw none other than Katsuki Bakugou.

Just as you tried to quickly turn around, your precious child couldn't help but yell -

"Dynamight!"

Groaning in frustration at your daughter, though you knew it wasn't her fault (He just so happened to be her favorite hero, despite not even knowing he was her father), you tried your best to keep walking away but it was already too late.

You heard him yell out your name, and you quickly grabbed Keiko, abandoning the shopping cart in the process and you began making your way out of the store as fast as you could.

Katsuki, who noticed you and your daughter, did the same and began following you.

Once you were outside, you looked over your shoulder and called out, "Get away from me!

Keiko fussed in your arms at your loud voice, wondering what was happening and why her mother was running away from a hero.

Finally getting to your car, Katsuki was hovering over you as you put your daughter in her car seat.

"Is she mine?" He asked, out of breath from walking fast.

"No."

"You think I'm an idiot or somethin'?" He asked, "She looks just like me and you expect me to believe that?"

You kissed Keiko on the forehead, "I'm gonna talk to the crazy man real quick okay baby? Just wait here."

She nodded and played with her fingers. You shut the door and leaned against it, facing Katsuki.

"Leave us alone. I don't want anything to do with you, okay?" You said sternly, trying not to cry.

His eyebrows furrowed, "When we ended things... were you pregnant?"

You stayed quiet for a moment before answering.

"I didn't find out until a month later."

He let out a breath and put his hands on his face. "Why the fuck didn't you tell me? I would've been there for you, even if we weren't together."

His words angered you, "Why does it take me being pregnant for you to think about being there for me? I still needed you there when you left, but you wanted nothing to do with me!"

"I had to do it! You don't understand, okay?" He yelled.

You put a finger in his face, "Stop raising your voice at me like that. Keiko can probably hear you."

He grew quiet, "Her name is Keiko?"

"Yeah."

He looked at the ground, "Can I get to know her more? Please. There's no way I can live my life knowing I have a kid that I'm not there for."

You felt a tear slip down your cheek. "Okay, fine. I'll give you my number and we can talk about the details later."

"Thank you." He sighed, "Thank you so much. I'm gonna do my best for her, and for you too."

"This isn't about me."

"I don't care. It's what I want to do. It's what I need to do."

"Just give me your phone so I can put my number in."

He fished his phone out of his pocked and unlocked it, handing it to you. While you added your contact, he asked "What does she like? I want to get her something."

"Well she likes heroes, her favorite animal is a seal, and she likes crowns, because she wants to be a king." You said with a smile.

"Not a queen?" He smirked.

You shook your head. "Nah, she says 'king' sounds cooler."

He laughed, "That's definitely my kid."

...

After the accidental meet up with Katsuki, Keiko asked a million questions but you answered as if you didn't know him, and eventually she lost interest.

You decided not to tell anyone about what happened, just incase he decided to leave again. You also didn't want to tell Keiko yet, because you didn't want her to grow attached to him.

She knew her father wasn't in the picture, but she didn't fully understand why yet. You would explain it to her when she got older and grew more curious about who he is.

You had also found out why Katsuki was in your city, and apparently it was because he was visiting some family members (by force of his mother).

It was now a few days later, and you and Katsuki decided to meet up, along with Keiko. You wanted to meet him in public, but he said that was a bad idea because he'd get recognized, so you reluctantly agreed to allow him into your home.

"Keikooo" You cooed, "We have a visitor today."

She looked up from her toys and brushed her hair out of her face, "Who Mama?"

Just then, the doorbell rang. "There he is! Do you wanna go open the door?"

She nodded and skipped down the hall and to the front door, looking back at you for the okay before opening the door.

When she did, she gasped "Dynamight! What are you doing at my house?"

Katsuki laughed, "I came to see you and your Mama, if that's alright with you little lady."

She smiled and opened the door wider, allowing him to walk in. "What's in that bag, Dynamight?"

"It's actually something for you." He said and handed it to her.

She squealed and dragged the large bag behind her to the couch, where she quickly dug inside of it and pulled out a large seal plushie with a crown on it.

"It's a king seal!" She said in awe.

You smiled and sat next to her on the couch, "What do you say Koko?"

She hugged the seal, "Thank you so much! I need to name him..."

Katsuki laughed and ruffled her hair, "You're welcome kid. Maybe we can come up with names later." He then handed you a small bag, from who knows where, and urged you to open it.

You raised a brow but opened it anyways. Inside, there was a jewelry box, and inside that there was a necklace with three small flowers aligned together. It was simple, but pretty.

"You didn't have to get me anything..." You said while admiring the necklace.

He shrugged, "I know, but I wanted to."

You smiled.

...

For the next few months, things continued on that way. The three of you would meet up, Katsuki occasionally bringing you and your daughter gifts no matter how many times you said you didn't want one, and actually enjoying time together.

Currently, Keiko was being carried to bed by Katsuki. She was all tuckered out from today's session of hero and villain (she was the hero, of course).

When Katsuki came back to the living room, he slumped onto the couch next to you and sighed. "Damn, that kid has so much energy."

You laughed, "Tell me about it. It was even worse when I was actually carrying her. She was a kicker."

Katsuki looked over at you, "I'm sorry I wasn't there."

You continued looking forward, "It's fine. You didn't even know, Katsuki."

He smiled slightly at you using his first name, just like he did every time you used it.

"Y'know, I was thinking-"

"Uh oh." You teased.

He tsked and continued on, "I wanna start over again."

You froze, what the hell was he saying?

"Look, I know you're hesitant to and I understand why." He said and slowly grabbed your hand, holding it tenderly in his. "But I'm being serious when I say I haven't been with anyone since you. I still love you and I always have. And now that Koko is here, I love her too and I want to be in her life everyday."

Your lip began to shake, "If you loved me, why did you leave me?"

"Baby I was being stupid. I-I got into a fight with this villain, and he threatened you. I thought that my job was putting you in danger and I didn't want to take any risks, so I broke things off."

The tears were now falling, "You're such an idiot, you know that?"

"I do know. I'm sorry." He said and stroked your cheek, "I'm so fucking sorry for hurting you and not being there for you and Keiko. But please, please let me be here now."

You cried harder and leaned into his chest, and he wrapped his arms around you. That wound he left behind all those years ago was now a scar that still hurts. But so far, being with him these last few months has eased the pain.

"I love you" You cried, "I want you to be here now. For me and for Keiko."

He let out the biggest sigh of relief in years.

...

3 years later

"Keiko! Stop putting cheese on your brother!" Katsuki yelled across the kitchen.

Your now 7-year old daughter pouted and bit into a slice of cheese, "But he likes it!"

Your son, who was a year old, laid on the floor of the living room and laughed at his sister while chewing on his fingers.

After that talk you and Katsuki had, you began seeing each other again. It was hard at first, but he proved himself to you in every way he could.

You two also told Keiko he was her father, and she was confused at first but after a long talk and even some tears, she understood and quickly accepted he was her father.

She also loved being able to say Dynamight was her dad.

She also manifested her quirk, which was of course, the same as Katsuki's. When it first manifested, there was a random boom! that came from her bedroom, and when you two ran in, she was covered in soot and her doll was blown up.

Though instead of crying, she cheered in victory, which Katsuki found extremely funny.

Now for your second pregnancy, that was a surprise, just like your first one. Despite this, you two were still happy about it and decided to move into a bigger house together.

Hiroki looked a lot like his father, of course. But this time, he had your eye color which you were thankful for considering you carried him for almost 9 months.

"Keiko why would you put cheese on Hiroki?" You asked as you walked into the living room.

She shrugged and ate another slice.

"That kid is crazy, that's why." Katsuki said.

She quickly turned around, "No I'm not! You're crazy! Poop face!"

"Hey!" You said, "Don't call your dad poop face. That's not nice."

She grumbled a 'sorry' and went back to eating the cheese slices off of Hiroki.

You smiled and shook your head at your families antics. They could be a bit much, and they had explosive personalities (literally) but you loved them either way.

Maybe second chances weren't so bad.

authors note

this was so so fun! again, thank you for requesting 🩷 if anyone else has ideas or requests, feel free to send em!

i hope you liked this 😸

#fanfiction #@angels-fantasy #fanfic #anime #bakugou katsuki #my hero academia #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #cw pregnancy #cw children #dad bakugou #bakugou x fem!reader

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