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#I bet he has a sweater for every mood
anstarwar · 2 months
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fox in a turtleneck and cargo pants? he's lame. to me
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@oceans-swim and @wolviecat y’all had very similar requests so I combined them for one mega cozy and adorably Lame™️ one sir Commander Fox
He’s having a very French noir existential crisis in a cozy sweater
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Thanks for sending these requests in!
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stawpny · 7 months
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hey!!
I feel like I’m in a CA/NY mood, so why not give you some hc’s???
yippee!
-
-“I hate everyone but you” trope
-York and Cal go traveling together. Whether it’s to a different country or to another state. They mostly go to Paris or New York City, but they’ve been to many others. I can just imagine them walking around, holding hands and Cal goes, “ohmygod! The Eiffel Tower!” “No way?! In Paris?! I nevah would’ve guessed!”
-they cuddle anywhere and almost all of the time. Whenever they get the chance, really. They’ll cuddle on the couch or maybe ontop of a building.
-cal has ONE photo of York smiling and it is the background of his phone. York takes every chance to try and delete it off of his phone but his plans have failed.
-New York always sleeps in fetal position to keep warmth and to protect himself. He used to do this when he was younger and now it’s just become a habit.
-Cal likes to collect little silly objects that he finds when out with York. Whether he has to buy it, steal it, or just pick it up, he will have it. (most of them are little bird sculptures)
-neither of them like the sound of fireworks, but they like the picture, so they usually just stay inside where it’s muffled (they both have PTSD) to watch the southern and high western idiots light fireworks whil Gov freaks out about literally everything going on. He would have to stop Florida from “riding a firework to the moon”. (it
-Physical touch but also words play a huge role. They have to know if the other loves them back the same, so words of love and appreciation are crucial because they both have trust issues.
-York can only fall asleep when he’s with cal. If not, he just feels too alone and cold. He feels too much like his old self.
-literally the most powerful couple ever.
-Cal will imitate Yorks accent to try and be more aggressive. York will wince at the horrible pronunciations of the words. “Okay, that’s enough. Please stop, B.” “Yous bettah- huh?”
-NY never stops moving, always fiddling with something. Cal’s flannel buttons, his ring (married??!!), his shirt, etc. Mans will be moving even if he is exhausted.
- tea and coffee duo
- “You think we’re in love in every universe?” “I bet ya we are.”
- York helps him answer financial questions, but when York gets too “full of himself” (he really doesn’t, he just gets carried away) cal always says, “Woah, settle down, dude. Your acting like you didn’t crash the economy back in the 1930’s.” “Okay Mr. Movie Star- Oh wait, what evah happened to that career? Still hasn’t taken off, huh?” “HEY!-“
-York frequently steals Cal’s shirts and sweaters because he likes baggy clothes. “I’m vegan and I’m American!” As an example of what one of the shirts says. 😭
heyyy
so.. it’s been a while since I posted CA/NY, so yay
I created these really quickly if you couldn’t tell 😔
but I hope you liked!
ily guys <3
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imkylotrash · 2 years
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Hi if your still taking requests please could u write a Hardin Scott x sick reader. Just really fluffy. I’ve been sick for the past week and it’s killing me lol.
Thanks <3
I know I received this request a while back, so I hope you're feeling better now! 💛
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It is embarrassing just how many tissues you've filled with snot. Absolutely abominable. You're not entirely sure how a person can keep that amount of snot in their body. The fever is the worst though. You’re constantly removing your sweater because you’re too warm only to put it back on five minutes later, because you start shaking from the cold. In short, you’re miserable. And you wish Hardin was here to make you feel better, but he has an interview in Seattle for his book, and you’re not about to get him sick the day before. Instead, you settle for a phone call. 
“Hi, sweetheart.” 
“God, you sound rough. How are you doing?” Hardin laughs on the other end. 
“Not so good,” you reply, voice shaking. You’ve hardly spoken a word for the past few days as you hid in your apartment with nothing but rom-com movies to keep you company. 
“I wish you’d let me come over. I bet I could make you feel better in an instant.” It’s true. Cuddling with Hardin would definitely improve your mood if nothing else. But you don’t want him to get sick before his big day. His second novel is a big deal. It’s the book that can make or break his career as a writer. 
“You can stop by after your meeting,” you manage to propose right before a coughing fit takes over. 
“By the time I get back from meeting you’ll be asleep,” he sighs. You know it’s difficult for him to just leave you alone when you’re not feeling good, but you just can’t say yes even though you crave the feeling of his arms around you. 
“Then I’ll just see you tomorrow. Really, Hardin. I’ll be fine.” Begrudgingly, he agrees to stay away until after his meeting, so when you find yourself awaken from your nap on the couch by a knock on the door a few hours later, you’re very confused. You open the door to find Hardin with a face mask and gloves on. 
“I even brought hand sanitizer,” he says with mischievous eyes. Before you have time to protest, he’s slipped into the apartment. He heads right for the kitchen where he starts heating up some soup. 
“I’m guessing you haven’t fed yourself today.” You know better than to try and deny. 
“I haven’t really been hungry.” This time, he’s the one that keeps quiet as he stirs the soup. You know it bothers him to see you sick and not eating. 
“You really shouldn’t be here, Hardin.” 
“Please, I haven’t been sick for the past four years. I think I’ll survive. Besides, you look like shit. I’m not letting you stay here alone.” He’s nothing if not brutally honest. When you catch a glimpse of yourself in the reflection of the window, you have to admit that he’s right. You resemble a ghost. 
“Eat,” he commands, handing you a bowl of soup. Taking a whiff, you recognize it as pumpkin soup. 
“Very seasonal of you,” you joke as you eat the first spoonful. It’s hot, but pretty darn good.
“Eat. And then we’ll take a shower.” Fed and bathed, Hardin tucks you into a little burrito, wrapped in the duvet. You feel just about ready to fall asleep when you feel the weight shift on the bed. Looking to your side, you spot Hardin with a book. No face mask, no nothing. God, you’ve missed his face. Just as you’re about to protest, he gives you a look that tells you this isn’t up for discussion. To be honest, you just don’t have it in you to argue with him. It’s nice having him here. He makes you feel better. 
“You might as well cuddle me if you’re refusing to listen to sound advice,” you mumble as if you’re annoyed when really every fiber of you is screaming for him to just wrap his arms around you. He doesn’t even attempt to hide his grin as he places his book on the nightstand and lies down proper. 
“You’re a stubborn one, you know that?” Your silence makes him laugh. But you’re happy he’s here. You really needed him even if you were trying to pretend that you didn’t. 
“Thank you for coming over.” 
“I told you already, I’ll always be here.”
--------
Tagging: @bitchwhytho @music-of-melody @shadowhuntyi @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @canthebest1 Let me know if you want to be added or removed. 
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ayyy-imma-ninja · 1 year
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For the SK boys:
What time does sun and moon get back home from work??
How do they greet eachother when they see eachother again? I bet sun gets hyper.
Has sun ever gotten hyper before? If so what for?
How often does sun and moon get new cloths? How many new sweaters does sun get?
Could you explain their daily schedule?
When does sun and moon get days off from their jobs?
Does moon have a second/backup job during the winters??
~Sun closes the library at 9pm. On Saturdays it closes at 10pm, and the library is closed on Sundays. Moon gets off work at the amusement park at 10pm every day.
~Sun usually picks Moon up from work since he gets off an hour earlier. They see each other every day and live together, so greetings are kept casual, unless one or the other is in a cheery or foul mood.
~Sun gets hyper, yes. Usually over topics of interest, or cute things. Or anything exciting in general. He can be a ball of energy, part of his old daycare programming when playing with kids.
(little wholesome side note: Sun and Moon often babysit a couple of kids from one family, and the little ones have the most contagious laughter either of them have heard. They always send Sun into a fit of giggles.)
~They only get new clothes when needed or necessary. Some are custom made because they're so tall. Sun gets a lot of sweaters, usually to fit the change of seasons. Some are knitted by the apartment tenant.
~When they're not killing, the boys awaken from charging at roughly 6am, get dressed and go to work. Sometimes they will chat with folks on the way. Sun drops Moon off at the park, then drives to the library.
~Sun has Sundays off since that's when the library is closed (out of the wishes of the previous owners). Moon works at the park every day of the week, but has the winter season off (Nov-Feb) due to frigid temperatures.
~Moon will babysit a lot during the winter season, and sometimes Sun will accompany him depending on availability.
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sparklyslug · 2 months
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just here to say i am obsessed with The (Monster-Hunting) Shop Around the Corner and am eagerly awaiting the last chapter!! idk if you ever do lil previews, totally fine if not, but just here to beg for a little snippet in case you do!
WAUGH THANK YOU SO MUCH! I really really appreciate that! I’m sorry it’s taken longer than planned for the final chapter, work revved up in February and this month I’m focusing on my @strangerthingsreversebigbang, but THEN! UPDATE! I PROMISE! But thank you so so so much for enjoying it so far.
So such patience and kindness of course can only be rewarded with a snippet ahahaha!
……….
Steve’s ringing up a sweet mom (looking for something for her 10-year-old daughter: B*Witched was an easy sell, hiding it from Ned was not) when Eddie Munson breezes through the door. Raising what looks like two paper coffee cups in greeting, one in each hand, and grinning at Steve.
After a moment of surprise, Steve gives him a one second nod, and focuses on wrapping up the sale. Out of the corner of his eye, he tracks Eddie carefully setting the cups down and moving around the shop. “Let me know how she likes it,” Steve says to the mother as she hands her the bag and her receipt, tearing his eyes away from Eddie. With a nod and a smile, she’s out the door, and Steve rests his arms on the counter, regarding Eddie.
He’s lucky it’s just Steve in here right now; he’s apparently forgotten that this time of year your average Chicagoan usually is wrapped up in several layers, a winter coat being the most essential one of them. But Eddie seems comfortable as a September day in his charcoal gray sweater and black jeans, even pushes up the sleeves a little to expose tattooed forearms as he dives into a crate of classic metal LPs.
“Hey kid,” he calls across the store, when Eddie appears to have vanished completely into some music nerd heaven, and forgotten whyever it is he showed up here. “You gonna get your greasy mitts all over every cover, or you actually gonna buy something?”
Eddie’s head shoots up, and after a moment’s confusion his face breaks open into another grin.
“Dude, were you also a frequent shopper at The Tune Factory? Because that was a perfect Mr. Wilkins impression.”
“Where do you think I got all my Wham tapes?” Steve laughs.
“Funny we never ran into each other there,” Eddie says easily, making his way back over to the counter.
“Yeah, that’s true,” Steve says slowly, thinking that it isn’t that funny at all. He doesn’t know which would have gone over worse back then: if Steve had tried to strike up a conversation with Eddie, or if Eddie had tried the same thing with him. He figures Eddie has to know this too, but. Yeah, it’s nice to pretend that it would have been otherwise, now that they’re here.
There’s something different about Eddie today. And not just the forgotten jacket, or the break from his undertaker monochrome approach. Maybe it’s just how he leans a hand on his chin easily, smiling up at Steve.
Huh. Guess it takes seeing Eddie without that thread of stress running through him, to realize it had been there this whole time.
“So what’s a guy like you doing in a dump like this?” Eddie asks. And actually bats his lashes at Steve, which is alarmingly effective given the materials the guy is working with.
“Making minimum wage,” Steve says dryly. “You’re in a good mood.”
“Well, I had my hands full with this totally needy freeloader all last week, and I finally got my place back to myself,” Eddie says easily. “So, lots to celebrate.”
“I bet,” Steve says, cocking an eyebrow at him.
“Speaking of which,” Eddie says, looking around for where he left the cups. “How are you feeling?”
“All good,” Steve admits, pointing over at the display case currently displaying Eddie’s drinks. “Not even a sniffle. And the, uh, sting already looks smaller.” That could be because the bruising around it shaped like Eddie’s mouth has finally faded, but Steve isn’t going to say that.
Eddie grabs the cups, and comes back to the counter.
“Glad to hear it. And feeling any otherworldly urges? Any cravings for blood, or likelihood of sprouting wings?”
“Oh, y’know. No more than usual.”
Eddie rewards him for that one with a laugh. “My business here is two-fold. Okay, actually–three-fold. I did really want to see how you were doing. But also, happened to be in the area, which happens to also be the area of one of the best cocoa spots in town. And also…”
Steve snorts a laugh as Eddie slides one of the cups across the countertop, pushing it along with one finger and looking at Steve with a wide-eyed smile.
“And also… someone might have been spreading rumors around town that you’re all on your lonesome this week, for a certain celebration of American consumption and excess.”
“Someone, huh?” Steve takes the cup, wrapping both palms around it and enjoying the warmth for a second. “Whoever could it be.”
“We may never know,” Eddie says solemnly. “But I figure Wayne's got a big ol couch with room for one more. And I would personally appreciate someone who can entertain him on whatever is happening with ‘The Big Game’–” Steve snorts as Eddie does the air quotes “–so I can get a turkey nap in, undisturbed.”
“So, are you doing me a favor? Or Wayne a favor?”
“Please, I am doing myself a favor,” Eddie says firmly. “I have been trying for more than twenty years to persuade Wayne that there’s no converting me to football. Being gay? After a weekend fishing trip to collect his thoughts, he took that no problem. Being bored to fucking tears by the struggles of the Colts? He’s never been able to accept it.”
Steve laughs. “Yeah, I can talk sports with your uncle for an afternoon. Give you a break.”
Eddie stands up straight, blinking in surprise before he can cover it with an awkward smile. Which is, uh, fair. Steve kind of surprised himself too. Had no intention of actually talking to Wayne and Eddie about Thanksgiving in the first place, whatever he had promised Dustin (which Dustin had probably figured, since he clearly worked it from the other angle, the little jerk). Even in the moment, once he realized what Eddie was asking, he had been mentally preparing a gentle brush off, maybe an I’ll think about it and then conveniently forgetting to say anything until, whoops, whaddaya know, it’s Black Friday.
Steve takes a sip of the cocoa to cover this inexplicably awkward moment, and sputters at the taste.
“Best cocoa in the city?” He manages.
Eddie reaches into his back pocket, and pulls out two mini bottles of whiskey.
“With a few Eddie Munson adjustments,” he says. “Perfect for a long walk home, on a cold November night.”
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lestatlioncunt · 10 months
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formal, informal, outerwear, and footwear for fenix and zefyr? 👁️👁️
character design questions
formal: What's your OC's formal look? Do they like dressing up? Do they have different looks for different occasions?
fenix: god it's so difficult to imagine him in smth formal, i feel like he'd dress up only if forced. he loves looking fashionable but more in a disinterested type of way. if he somehow gets forced into smth formal i so bad imagine him wearing either a double breasted jacket or like a very plain combo of blazer jacket + shirt and slap on some dress pants. no tie or whatever, he greatly hates those, you really need to put in some hard work to convince him to wear one. STILL THO once he gets all dressed up his mood goes from grumpy cat to smug peacock the moment he realises he looks pretty hot. he'd take a photo, send it on the group chat and write smth dumb like 'who's going to suck me off sloppy style in a corpo office now?' (<he gets kicked out of the chat)
zefyr: i think they don't exactly care about looking formal but they DO care to look important, statuary, like oozing off power. so if the occasion calls for it i think they would wear smth like some cool ass sorcerer robe, just to underline that they are a big shot, someone to fear for their power. many silver decorations, maybe an intricate breastplate that's more for show than any use. they would wear jewels on their horns, bracelets or gems hanging off them, maybe a few on their tail as well. decorate their claws, wear their hair in some complicate style with something pointy poking out of it like spikes or idk. zefyr would 100% go off with the style, they came to serve cunt
informal: What's your OC's lazy-day look? How do they like to dress when they're winding down?
fenix: picture this. some kind of t-shirt with holes in it because 'who cares, it's not like anyone is going to come judge me at home' and with smth dumb written on it like this guy has fire bussy, that or he doesn't wear any shirt at all, i wouldn't complain tbh. either some plain shorts if it's hot or sweatpants (AND SOCKS. HE'S COLD.), he basically looks like he just came back from a 20 hours shift.
zefyr: they basically live in the middle of nowhere of a forest in some kind of cozy cabin sorrunded by a forest so their lazy-day outfits consist of something very simple, light fabrics, a tunic or a shirt and an opened jerkin on it. something comfy for their legs like wide legged pants or maybe they are wearing a light robe and breeches and they sometimes tend to walk barefoot in their own home or out in the nature
outerwear: What's your OC's outerwear situation? Jacket, sweater, cloak? What sort of weather do they deal with most and how do they protect themselves?
fenix: he lovessss a good jacket, if it's not like extremely hot then you can bet it all that he's going to wear a jacket. leather, denim, suede, shearling jackets, all of it (vesper steals them a lot). tho he doesn't wear anything that goes past his waist (so like a coat etc) because he needs to show off his ass, god bless. sometimes you could see him wear a turtleneck but everyone makes fun of him every time he does so he doesn't do it often..the gang just loves to make fun of him, vesper genuinely likes the look <3 if it's hot outside then he's going to pull out his light shirts and tank tops, he hates sweating, summers back in italy where hell for him (i get him)
zefyr: draconic bloodline and all i want to believe zefyr isn't greatly affected by the cold, hot blooded creature they are!! but at the same time they really don't like the cold in general so they will cover up a lot, cloaks, more layers, fur, whatever you could do to fight off the cold. they like warmer temperatures better but not extreme, thankfully they don't have to deal with it. they don't wear any cloak if they are wandering through the forest, they dress pretty plainly if they are exploring for erbs and whatever they might need
footwear: What does your OC wear on their feet?
fenix: talked a bit about his obsession for boots in a previous ask..he loves cowboy boots baby!! brown, lightly worn out just enough to make it look cool, black boots that get to his ankles, and his absolute faves which are pointed boots, either plain slick black or smth decorated. he likes combat boots as well, but he wears them way less, usually when he wears a very simple outfit or has no big plans for the day or he's just lazy and tired
zefyr: a pair of boots never failed anyone!! they wear comfy plain boots that get just below their knees mostly, sometimes they could go wander around barefoot and if they want to Go Off as said in the first question then they are going to pull out something extreme like idk, boots with pointy ends with intricate designs
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majwrites · 2 years
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Halloween Plans
Eddie Munson x platonic!Reader
Reader has no plans for Halloween and Eddie helps them to figure out what to do.
Notes: contains some swearing, M*A*S*H is mentioned
"Eddie, I have a problem", you stared into your wide open wardrobe, staring at the sweaters. "I'm going to be honest with you, I don't see it. But maybe if you point it out to me, we can freak out about it together", Eddie stared at your clothes in confusion.
"You see my M*A*S*H sweater, right?". "Yeah, I've known and loved it since approximately 1982", you had worn that sweatshirt every Halloween, without fail, for the past four years but now the streak would break. "I don't have any pants to wear with it, my green corduroys ripped the other day and I'm not about to go into one of these fucked up stores to get army style pants", you thought back at all the adventures you had gone through with these corduroys. They must have been the most resistant piece of clothing your mom had ever sewn.
"Does that mean you'll go as something else this year?", he looked like he was already thinking of other possibilities. "Unfortunately. But I have no idea what to wear, it's only one more week, I have work to take care of and my mom said my corduroys can't be fixed. The fabric has gotten so thin it would just rip apart more if she'd try to sew it back together". "You could be a cat again, or a mouse", suggested Eddie, "it's an easy to make costume". "Ed, last time I went as an animal was in first grade. If I start again I'll never hear the end of it", you were thinking harder. Meanwhile Eddie started suggesting your favourite movies, maybe you'd find a character there. "Escape from New York?" "I don't wear a mullet anymore". "Once upon a time in the west?". "I could but I'm not really in the mood for that". "James Bond?" "Probably. I think I need a whole chart to decide what to dress like for Halloween. I just wanted to wear my M*A*S*H outfit", Eddie had seen you wear the corduroys and the sweatshirt individually on many occasions, but both together were reserved for Halloween. It had always brought across the message, with your self made dog tags and that green hat you'd wear on cold enough nights.
"You'll find something else, I'm sure", but there was something other than your inability to choose an outfit, another question plagued Eddie. "I sure hope I will", you shrugged. "Are you coming to hellfire on Halloween?", he watched your reaction. "Are you sure I'm invited? I don't really play that much anymore ever since I graduated", you'd love to go though. "You're a founding member, I bet everyone would be excited to get to know you", Eddie was sure about this one. "Are you sure the new kids would accept me? I must be ancient to them", you had graduated a year prior to the year Eddie should've graduated. Both of you had started the Hellfire Club in your sophomore year and to you that time had long passed. You have started college, gotten a job and D&D has unfortunately been left behind. "Of course they will. They've seen our old club photos and they'll all look up to you, so why don't you join us for a final round of D&D on Halloween", Eddie looked at you with his best puppy dog eyes, "and if you're up for it you could stay after the session and we'll listen to that new Billy Idol album you haven't showed me yet". "Oh right, I got so worked up about my costume that I forgot about that", you made your decision at that moment, "alright, I'll be there for the Hellfire party".
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minerviewrites · 2 years
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Platonic Arcane hcs :]
Sfw fluff, a little bit of angst, and gn reader
Warnings: inappropriate jokes, slight angst, medicine, forgetting to eat mentioned, injections in Silco's part, smoke bombs
❀ —————————————— ❀
Jayce- This dude is so much fun to have around! He takes you to arcades, diners, book stores, anywhere you want; though he WILL wreak havoc anywhere you go. Jayce is pretty clumsy, so he'll accidentally knock over magazine racks and the sort. He's also the type of person to point out inappropriate things like the time being 4:20 or the price of something being $69... "Hey, do you think I could hit the top of that door? No? I'm gonna do it anyways" - proceeds to slip and completely miss the door
Viktor- You're the sibling he always wanted when he was younger! Viktor often gets lonely because he's different than those around him; his medical condition and birthplace of Zaun make it difficult for him to relate to Piltover people. Despite all that, he never has a rough time feeling at home with you. He'll check on you every day- either with a text, call, or a small chat... he knows what it's like to be alone and he never wants you to feel that way
Vi- Much alike Jayce, she's pretty big on making jokes and making you comfortable. She'll constantly be blowing up your phone with the most random texts ever; "I didn't know poop could burn so much- i think I'm dying" or "Cait called me ugly ;( Beat her up 4 me". If you live with her, she's the type to bust into your room unannounced just to show you a tiktok she could've sent on messenger... Also the type that plays music super loud when she cleans because it helps her focus more
Jinx- Sometimes it really hard for her to disconnect you from her previous siblings. She'll sometimes call you Violet only to realize her mistake minutes later; this'll put her in an extremely unstable mood where anything can happen. Jinx eventually gets over this once you're around for a while and she's more stable. She'll try to involve you in all the things she works on if it's safe; you'll probably learn how to make smoke bombs or how to braid hair like hers. Might lend you a couple of records that she really likes so you both can sing together and bother Silco
Caitlyn- She buys you so many stuffed animals it's insane... You could not even like them, but everytime a holiday comes up you bet you're getting some kind of bear or squishmallow. Cait is also the kind of sibling that buys you WAY too much candy, which you mostly get because she visits the bakery almost every day. She 100% hogs the bathroom for at least an hour each morning; 40 minutes in the shower and another 20-30 to do makeup and hair...
Ekko- You're part of a GIANT group of siblings because he considers all those in his movement a sibling; but you're still the most important out of all of them. He takes you to all his favorite places around Zaun when you're feeling frustrated or just need to get out for a bit. Ekko is a lot like Vi in that he'll bust into your room and be like "dude the survival builder guy posted another house building tour. ...wha'ya mean it's 2 am? We can't miss out on quality content ;(". Also a big one on hugs, you'll get on every morning without fail
Silco- He doesn't know what to think of you since his relationship with Vander went sour. He'll try his absolute best to make sure that you're always stable in Zaun and will buy you food so you can save money for things you enjoy. Silco doesn't often involve you with any of his work, especially with shimmer, so you won't see him very often during the day; but he'll make sure to leave warm food in the microwave and a note detailing when he'll be back. Also might need occasional assistance with his eye injections, though he'll get Jinx to help if you don't want to
Sevika- You get the BEST hand-me-down clothes from her. I'm talkin big sweaters, hoodies, t-shirts... and they're all in surprisingly good condition for all the battles she's gone through. Sevika is a rather good cook so you'll always have nice, homemade meals in the fridge so you don't go hungry. If you often forget to eat or take medicine, she'll text you every single morning to remind you to do it. She just has a built in alarm clock telling her to remind you
Vander- Playfights with you all the time! The fights always seem to result in a self defense lesson in some way though, so you'll probably be skilled in that area. He'll mostly leave you by yourself and tries not to influence your decisions too much; he knows that you can handle things on your own and that you have to learn from mistakes. That doesn't mean that he doesn't give you advice though, you're always welcomed and encouraged to talk with him about anything without judgment
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obeymeluv · 3 years
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“I Got All A’s! Can I Have Some Dick?” (Bros + Undateables)
Just something stupid and funny I thought about. You had a very tough semester in the Devildom and you got good grades! You want to celebrate and go to your favorite demon to ask for a special reward.
Obvious NSFW warning. No minors allowed!
No Luke. Luke is baby.
I have a personal headcanon that Simeon likes to be totally cozy when he writes. We’re talking big fluffy sweaters or a blanket cozy. I like to think he wears glasses when he writes, too.
Lucifer
He’s part of a special committee who’s notified about your grades/progress so he actually knows before you do
Proud boyfriend is proud
Purrs when he opens up the wax-pressed envelope and reviews your marks
Secretly plans a cute, fancy dinner date at Ristorante Six
Is thinking of being suave and breaking the news to you when you bounce into his study (he may or may not have poured a couple of glasses of your favorite age-appropriate beverage)
He’s got something witty prepped and is ready to toast you and maybe steal a few kisses but you come out of left field like a bullet with a simple “I got all A’s! Can I have some dick?”
Lucifer.exe is broken
That’s what you want as a reward? No dinner, no date?
Literally doesn’t know what to say for a few seconds. Totally freezes. Starts to stutter.
His brain kicks back in when you start playing with the folds of his collar and petting his chest and staring at him with those wanting eyes
Sets his glass down, fixes the cuff of his gloves, and hoists you up to plant you on the nearest surface. “I will make it worth every point, and you will say all the letters.” he purrs.
Mammon
He’s just happy he passed.
Mammon actually does pretty well, he’s just a very...chaotically successful type. A lot of last minute turn-ins and such. Not top marks, but no dunce either.
Now that the semester’s over he’s checking his schedule to see when the next shoot is or if he has time to squeeze in a party. Maybe a trip somewhere. Something fun!
He’s feeling lucky! Lucky enough to win some money and make Goldie happy!
If he’s going anywhere, he needs a good luck charm though! He goes to hunt you down and his stomach just warms because you’re smiling and clearly in a good mood
It makes him purr in that cute, curious little way. Basically using the demon’s language to ask you why you’re in such a good mood (but you don’t know that. It’s basically a cute chirp).
You both shout your good news at the same time.
His invite to go tear it up was a bit long so it takes a minute for his brain to process what you said. You want...his dick?
Boy wants to blush SO BAD. HE’S SO RED!
Well now his thing seems stupid, doesn’t it? He wants to do your thing! Your thing sounds GREAT!
“OF COURSE you want to be with the GREAT Mammon!” he’s got his hands on his hips and his chest is puffed out big in that happy, silly way he has about him.
No, really, you do your thing. It’s a great thing.
It’s a good way to unwind from exams, right? He likes it!
Levi
If Levi didn’t get good grades, Lucifer would kill him.
Probably force him to go to school physically ALL THE TIME!
HIS SUBSCRIPTIONS WOULD BE AT RISK,OKAY?
He’s a solid B student (at least). No desire to be all A’s. Too much time away from other passions.
Because he’s well-behaved and leas likely to get on Lucifer’s nerves, he gets a little bit of bonus money for good grades.
Levi’s neck-deep in his charts and comparisons and muttering to himself about where to invest that money when you pop into his room
“I got all A’s! Can I have some dick?!”
You get The Noise
How indecent! How naughty of you to ask! But yes, yes you can. Absolutely. 100%!
He’s really shy about it because it’s sudden and you asked him instead of him having a cool moment or anything, but it ends up being a giggle-filled romp that ends with a cuddle in his bathtub bed and you wrapped up in his tail
He totally suggests a round two with a sexy VR game or just making bets with ‘winner take all’
Satan
He’s a grade juggernaut with lots of self-discipline so Satan expects to get out what he gets in
The type to be smug because he knows he did well. He owes it to himself and he’s glad.
Likes to treat himself to an outing, be it a simple walk or a visit to a cafe or even a new book
Satan’s 100% ready to settle down with some books by the fireplace. At the end of the semester he typically makes a one or two-portion charcuterie board and picks at it while he reads
Thumb keeping his place, Satan’s in the middle of stacking a fancy little cracker with meat and cheese when you let yourself in
His eyes flick to you and he smiles, eating his little cracker
You pick at his tray with him (he’ll let you, of course). “I got all A’s! Can I have some dick?”
Chokes on cracker. It’s not a good time
Almost drowns himself/further chokes trying to wash it down with drink
Can’t help but laugh at your...bold request
When he sees he’s kind of sputtered all over himself, he slips out of his clothes and makes a few witty jokes as your ‘naked butler’
Naked butler happily provides his services
Later he makes you picked crushed cracker off the floor with him
Asmo
The second Asmo knew he passed everything (like he always does. Just because he’s pretty doesn’t mean he’s stupid!), he booked himself a full day pampering experience
His inner circle of beauty specialist know his routine so they save his spots for him
Asmo sweet-talked them into including his favorite human and he’s DYING to tell you and DYING to make his brothers jealous
You skip into his room, so bright and lovely, and hold his hands in the cute excited way he likes. Makes his heart skip a beat every time like it’s young love.
“I got all A’s! Can I have some dick?”
Doesn’t expect it and has probably never been asked ‘Can I have some dick?’ in the thousands of years he’s been alive
Boy gives an airy laugh because he’s surprised and flattered. Of COURSE you want him (because who wouldn’t?) but he always gets a bit shy when it’s YOU asking
“Sounds amazing,” he’s already peppering you with kisses, “and I’m happy to provide but can we do it after our special spa day?”
You guys have a sweet, lazy round the day of the booking to ‘loosen up’ and ‘fully appreciate the services’ and he DEFINITELY worships you when all is said and done because ‘the epitome of beauty deserve the epitome of devotion’
Beel
Boy works hard and celebrates even harder. Usually with food
Because he’s always hungry and looking forward to eating, Beel likes to do his work ahead of time. The sooner he does it, the more time he has to eat!
He has to keep up good grades to stay on the sports teams, anyways
Solid B student, sometimes A’s. C’s and below aren’t a thing. He refuses.
Because he is also best boy and generally acts as Lucifer’s pseudo-enforcer, he also gets some bonus money.
The coach of his local sports team also pitches in because Beel is best boy and a TANK. He could literally carry the whole team
Beel’s all set to hit the town with his food money when find him and wrap your arms around him
He’s all excited and ready to tell you about the food money when you make his face catch fire. “I got all A’s! Can I have some dick?”
Brain also stops. BEEL IS SO EMBARRASSED!
You’d rather have him than food? That’s pretty impressive! He’s honored!
But...what if you could have both? He’s totally down for both!
You celebrate your success by staying in (bed) and spoiling yourselves with food in-between rounds
Belphie
Belphie is a ‘C’s get degrees’ kind of guy but C’s are his minimum. Tries for B’s and usually gets mid-to-low B’s.
With exams over he’s 100% down to sleep the day away and there’s NO REASON for ANYONE TO BUG HIM ABOUT IT!
Totally prepared to live in his finest pyjamas until school starts again. Might even treat himself to a new pillow or blanket!
If he hadn’t learned your scent by now, you wouldn’t have a face when you breach his blanket cocoon
Belphie just snorts and smiles at your little face and messy hair (the blankets give it static and mess it up)
You kiss his nose and wait to make sure he’s really awake before sharing the good news. “I got all A’s! Can I have some dick?”
Laughs himself to the point of almost choking on one of his blankets
Throws himself out of the cocoon to breathe and wipe his tears away
But yes, yes you can. After he calms down, he pulls you onto his lap to straddle him. 
It’s fun and lazy but a genuine celebration of the end of the semester
Diavolo
He’s the other part of the committee that saw your grades, so he knows
It’s a bit off his plate so he won’t have as many duties to attend to
Diavolo wasn’t sure when you’d come over, but Barbatos assured him you’d be over that day. He did his best to speed through his meetings and arrange his schedule to have a rest period
He asked Barbatos to prepare a small, modest lunch of finger foods and some complimentary tea
You may have thought Diavolo was making himself a plate when you walked in, but it was actually a plate for you
The prince of the Devildom almost dropped that plate when you said, “I got all A’s! Can I have some dick?”
Prince of Hell is super blushy and flustered and awkward and almost knocks his teacup off the table. Is suddenly scrambling to make sure he doesn’t know anything else off the table
Tries to compose himself but can’t help the boyish smile and laugh that escapes him
You’re just such a lovely, fascinating person! He’s so happy to have you. His life seems eternal but you make it so fresh and new! His heart just bursts with love and delight.
Is no longer worried about the food or pushing in your chair for you. Offers his lap instead. “I have an opening for that,” he assures, pulling you onto his lap.
Diavolo likes to think he’s thoughtful about taking you on the floor because Barbatos doesn’t have much to clean up.
If your stomach grumbles after you’re settled and sleepy, he pulls himself off your body long enough to grab a plate from the table and put it beside your head. 
Demons have more stamina and it would be un-princely of him not to spoil you, so he feeds you until you’re too sleepy to eat.
Barbatos
It’s exhausting to be able to see multiple timelines and see into the future.
He never knows how far into the future he’s seeing, or if it’s in the timeline he’s currently in
All he knows is he heard you ask him for dick and almost dumped the wrong thing in the soup, okay? 
Had to excuse himself and ask someone on the cooking team to take over for him while he “dealt with another matter” (laughed it out where no one could hear him)
I’m not sure if Barbatos is considered a student at RAD, but Diavolo must be too. We’ll say he is. Boy is a master of self-discipline and scheduling so he’s fine. Flawless, as a butler should be. It carries over into all things.
It’s a delicate balance sometimes, but he’s type A and used to being busy so it works itself out. He does well.
Barbatos simply looks forward to having less to do. Focusing on Diavolo can be a job all its own.
He was planning on making a few sweets for Luke and the others. Diavolo suggested a “pot luck” to celebrate. It’s something the humans came up with and he seems to like it. It turns into sweets for the pot luck
Probably makes you a special mini-dessert or a special portion of the dessert
If he’s in control of plate presentation, you might get a special sauce heart of chocolate heart
When Diavolo is generous enough to include him in the celebration (because he deserves it and you’re there, so it’d be cruel not to), Barbatos makes small talk and woos you subtly
You ask him to “show you where to take the dishes” to get him alone. He can feel it in his little demon bones. You’re about to do it.
You do it.
You’re basically vibrating with excitement because you probably planned this and think you’re very clever. Human enthusiasm is so darling and it makes his heart pitter-patter to think you were simply bursting to ask HIM this.
“But of course,” he helps you stack the plates and guides your hand to the silverware sorter because you’re looking at him instead of what you’re doing. You almost put a fork in the spoon section. “Covered in chocolate? Plain?”
He’s trying to one-up you. He loves seeing his human change colors and not know what to do.
You whisper “I prefer wet,” back in his ear and Barbatos wonders how he didn’t see THAT in any of his visions
You: 1, Barbatos: 0. Helpless. Defenseless. Horny.
“That will be ready shortly,” he’s already pulling you away, down the hall, to meet your request.
Solomon
It wouldn’t serve him to do poorly in the Devildom. Basically wasted opportunity
He’s not a straight A student but he does well. Really pulls out the stops on major projects and things that are worth more points than others
Isn’t perfect at everything but makes up for it. Solid B’s, always really close to A’s. At least a couple low A’s.
Solomon doesn’t quite know how he wants to celebrate. He knows Asmo’s already pestering him to go shopping or clubbing
He’s considering it. He’d like to drink, honestly
You show up, light of his life, his favorite person, and he feels himself warm with joy
He revels in being the only other human in the Devildom. It makes your relationship that much more special, he thinks. It’s kind of stupid, but it’s something to coyly hold over the others whenever he sees fit. All in play, of course (not).
“I got all A’s! Can I have some dick?”
Pretends to think and looks anywhere but your face. If he looks at your face he’ll blush himself stupid and won’t be able to say anything smart.
He can’t lie. He’s already hard. He appreciates humor and wit and you’re all of it.
Very bold of you to come onto him like that, and he’s 100% for it.
“Can you take it?” Solomon wishes he said something smoother, that he wasn’t already slipping between your legs and grinding against you like the weak man he was. He doesn’t regret it though because the friction is good. Something you both need.
He whispers against your skin and gives you light, sloppy kisses with a hint of teeth.
He gives, and he’s generous. He wants to reward your efforts.
Simeon
Simeon makes it a point of personal pride to do well in the Devildom
That’s the utmost symbol of peace and understanding, isn’t it? To embrace their culture and livelihood and do well? To do well means he’s understanding them and walking in their shoes. It’s only right
He works hard and does well. Doesn’t stress himself out with A’s since he’s keeping up his grades because it’s required. He’d rather reconnect with the brothers and try to help Luke enjoy the Devildom.
He’s happy to spend his free time taking Luke to places in the Devildom, trying to visit the House of Lamentation, and maybe working on some things for TSL since editors are clamoring for more
You stop by because he’s been fairly quiet, wrapped up in his favorite writing sweater with his little editing glasses on
Simeon smiles and greets you with his little ‘Hi, angel’ as he kisses your hand. 
Boy almost breaks his favorite pen when you ask him for...for dick?
He’s not absolutely clueless but this boy has been in ‘holy angel’ mode for centuries. He struggles with texting and stickers and you expect him to know slang?!
So confused he takes his glasses off. Boy can’t comprehend
“You’re asking me to procure one? Like...the ones humans use from those stores? You want mine? Well, I certainly hope so because we’re--oh...”
He could write books of poetry about you, and though he doesn’t like to admit it, he’s had those thoughts
“Well,” he’s standing up from his chair and guides you so gently to his bed it’s like you’re floating on a cloud. He lays you down just as gently, fabrics whispering as he slips out of his sweater and it pools at his feet. “I wouldn’t be a very good angel if I ignored the wishes of my dear human, would I?”
Doesn’t really see the point of sex as a reward, but will never turn down a moment to show how cherished you are. 
Hope you liked it :)
4K notes · View notes
dienamights · 3 years
Text
Ex’s and O’s | K.Bakugou
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» Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x Fem!Reader.
» Word count: 6.7K
» Genre: hurt/comfort, Smut MDNI, Prohero!au
» Summary: Its bad enough that you’re spending your ex-boyfriend’s birthday curled up in bed, wearing his merch, drinking away your sorrows, but what’s even worse is having your eardrums pierced by the blaring music upstairs at the party thrown just for him.
» Warning(s):  Smut 18+ MDNI please, hurt/comfort, mentions of alcohol, dubcon since reader is under the influence while getting dicked down, drunk sex, oral sex and fingering (female receiving, we getting fed tonight), one pussy slap lol, manipulation, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy)
» Author’s notes: Hello! aaaah I’m actually pretty excited about posting this fic! First of all, its Bakuhoe’s birthday! and what better way to honor it than to feed you all some good ol angst sprinkled in with some good dickin’ down. Its been years since I’ve written smut and I’m actually really fuckin proud of it, yet real nervous but I hope you enjoy! Secondly, this fic is a part of Bakugous Birthday Bash! I’m so excited to read everyone’s work, thank you everyone for holding this event and allowing my ass participate to create this with you all ♡ be sure to read everyone’s contributions, I know it’ll be more than amazing since everyone worked so hard!
Happy Birthday to our favorite King Explosion Murder♡♡
Lastly, I wanna thank everyone for their support and helping me reach 200 followers already! You guys are the cutest thing ever and I promise I’ll update more frequent the minute I’m out of uni late june fml, thank you @tteokdoroki for giggling with me when i wrote cock for the first time lol
» Masterlist | Requests
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Rolling out of bed and flailing onto the floor as a start of your day ensures you that the following 24 hours will ultimately suck ass. Getting up and readying yourself for the day by looking through one of your cardboard boxes for your favorite Dynamight hoodie, the back of your mind keeps nagging you, trying to remind you of something buried deep in your subconsciousness, and you have half a heart to try and remember, because for some odd reason, you feel so fucking weary, as if the few steps from your bed to your bathroom are somehow now endless miles, almost making you breathe out in relief after finally reaching it.
And as you are making your coffee, that odd feeling keeps annoying you again, prodding at your brain to remember something, something. And ultimately, that's when your eyes fall to the counter. You knew this day was coming and you were dreading it for months, so as you look at the calendar on your kitchen counter, you frown, the quote of the day you always love reading so much long forgotten when your eyes fall on the date. 
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“You’ve gotta be kiddin' me.” You mumble at the calendar on your counter hatefully with furrowed eyebrows, as if it would either reply or change its date, it doesn’t do either, and your lips curl downwards even further. As in immediate response, you pick up your phone, your coffee pot tossed aside as you dial the number of the only person you could think might help you right now.
“G’morning y/n -” you hear Kendo’s voice through your phone, and you honestly want to sob right then and there, but you hold yourself, barely and speak over her overly cheery voice first thing in the goddamn morning. “It's Kats- Bakugou’s birthday” you whimper at the slip up, being so used to the first name basis you were in with your now ex-boyfriend.
“Yeah, was kinda hoping you would’ve forgotten.” She sighs, tugging at her bangs and pulling back her phone to check the time. “Tell you what, I get off work in an hour, then I’m spending the day with you. I’ll get tequila, I know you love your shots.” 
“Ken, it's like 10 right now..” you can’t help but pout, having alcohol in your system as an escape to help you forget about the entire day still sounding better than the urge to cry and crawl into a hole, even if it's at the start of your day. “Y'know what? Get those gummy worms I like too.” “Bet.” you hang up with a sigh, moving back to the kitchen to sift through your bubble wrapped kitchen utensils, barely forcing yourself to prepare breakfast as to not have your liquor on an empty stomach.
You loathe the fact that you remembered his birthday, always reminded of him no matter how long ago since you’ve last seen him, being the center of the media’s attention for years as the number 6 hero in japan has its perks, well, in his case, but to you? Nothing but trouble and heartache as every channel you flip through plasters his face, whether it be about some big rescue mission he partook in or a new rumor about a potential lover to the explosive hero, followed by him almost attacking a reporter, yelling to them about ‘needing to mind yer goddamn business and keep my fuckin’ name outta your mouths’. Therefore, you opted long ago to stay away from the TV to avoid seeing him, his captivating rubies for eyes, covered by that goddamn mask you like to push up to his forehead, sweeping his bangs away and exposing his sweaty forehead that he bumps against yours as he makes love to you, still in his hero costume, all battered and dusty and so incredibly hot you have to- 
You grip your coffee mug tighter, almost to the point of breaking the handle off of it, placing it rather roughly onto the table before pushing your food away, appetite gone with the thought of whatever paradise you were thinking you were in before now long gone and never coming back, all because of you, of your action, of your mistake.
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Kendo walks in with a bright smile on her face, as if her overly cheerful attitude will balance out the void you’re slowly but surely falling in. She shakes the bag of snacks in your face as you blink your eyes back into focus. Dragging your heavy feet across the floor to get to your kitchen to retrieve the shot glasses. Only kissing her cheek in thanks when you snatch away whatever it is she brought with her to lift your mood.
She eyes the boxes by your kitchen, the four placed haphazardly in your living room and the one you're using as a stool while filling your shot glasses, tongue sticking out to try and fill each one to the brim without spilling any on the new coffee table that she failed to notice before is still wrapped in bubble wrap that prevent any damage during the moving process.
“y/n…” you hum in response, a frown falling on your lips as the third glass spills a bit and the liquid pools on the plastic.
“Don't you think that you should’ve probably unpacked a while ago? Hasn't it been, what, five months?” 
“I didn't know you were gonna come here to harass me about my life choices, Kendo”
She flinches away, your tone venomous, almost feeling it as a slap to her face, before leaning in when she sees your eyes start to water.
“If I did, that just means it's true… that just means it happened, and I did the stupidest thing- you know what,” you wipe the few tears that managed to escape away with the sleeve of your sweater, looking down at the shots in front of you. “It, it doesn't matter anymore just- can I just drink and try to forget about how my life has gotten nothing but fucking worse since the day I left him?”
You questioned your worth that one time, that one time all those months ago. Thinking that by doing what you did and leaving, he’d drop everything and run behind you, chase after you and win you back, but he didn't, and as you sit surrounded by the evidence of how much of a failure you find out you are without him, you regret ever questioning it, ever questioning him. Because to you, living in denial was so much better than whatever hell this is.
So all you could think of is to just drown yourself in alcohol until your mind is too numb to think of the possibilities of how you could have avoided this, how you could’ve been a less of shitty person, and stop imagining how your life would be now if you just swallowed all your insecurities and just stayed. Despite the neglect, despite not being prioritized, because in some weird twisted way, those lies held you with warmth that you were never able to find after uncovering the ugly truth you’re living in right now. 
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You lay on your living room floor, the alcohol swirling in your system and clouding your vision as you trace imaginary shapes in your ceiling, the voice of Kendo muffled as she rambles on and on about her day, the amount of outlaws she bitch slapped - a term she uses to get a laugh from you - and how she considers herself the unluckiest being in the whole world for having Monoma as a partner of all people, seriously contemplating who she should beat up first between him and the villains.
“Must be nice,” you voice, low and slow, scared of how Kendo would react to what you’re about to say, yet your intoxicated self unable to stop your mouth from uttering the words. “To have a purpose in life, to not be quirkless and lost like us.” your face twists in an ugly scowl at your ceiling, but mostly to yourself for putting a downer on whatever mood your friend is trying so hard to build, proven by the hitch of her breath before she enters your peripheral vision when she leans over you, all upside down and pouty.
“What’re you talki-” the shrill ringtone of her phone breaks you away from each other as she leaps to fetch it and silence the god forsaken thing by answering the call. “Battle Fist here, yes sir, I was partnered up with Phantom Thief for the patrol at area B, n-no sir I wasn’t informed.” Kendo breaths out in irritation, pinching the bridge of her nose as she starts tapping her feet aggressively on the floor, eyes falling onto yours when you look up at her all weary and sad, knowing what she would tell you once she hangs up. “That dumbass is gonna be the end of me I swear.” She crouches down to your level and kisses your forehead, promising to be back in the morning with hangover food, before she leaves and locks the door behind her. 
Now you’re left all alone, back aching from laying on the hardwood floor and eyes watering as you feel your loneliness eating you up inside, the god awful music thumbing loudly in your ears followed by the cheer of people as you-
Music?
You sit up abruptly, groaning at the dizziness of the swift movement as your hands fly to cover your ears, a failed attempt of ensuring your brain doesn’t begin to spill out from them, because of the loud voices, the bass shaking your entire fucking apartment by how strong it is, and you curse yourself for falling for the scheme the landlord pulled you in, paying half of the rent everyone did, just because you lived right below the penthouse that hosted the loudest parties in the area, 4 days out of the fucking week. 
The money hungry shameless bastard praised the apartment the minute it spiked your interest all those months ago, selling it so well you actually moved in the next week, anything to stop feeling like a burden to Kendo as you couch-surfed her apartment. Only to realize within that first week from your downstairs neighbors that he rents the penthouse to host parties of all sorts, and due to its location in the city, it was pretty popular, yet you didn’t have the money to move out again, nor the heart to concern your friend with your problems, as she was a hero with other responsibilities aside from taking care of your hopeless self.
So you get up, barely gathering yourself onto that elevator to tell off whoever the fuck will answer the door first to turn the music down. You pound the door with your fist repeatedly the minute you reach it, the door opening so suddenly you almost punch the man standing in front of you in the chest, the cool air created from the door cooling your warm cheeks as you squint at your victim for the day.
“Welcome!”
“Listen here, you buttfaced moron” you start to chew the person’s ear out, your sight blurring yet still able to notice how bright his hair is, how fiery and familiar it looks, and you’re certain you’ve seen it somewhere before. “I’m trying to drink away my regrettable life choices and cry over my ex-boyfriend, so if you would just turn down the-”
“y/n?” oh, that’s where. Your stomach drops as Kirishima looks down on you, the bright smile he flashed to whoever he was welcoming now dropped with his eyes almost bulging out at your presence, you both stand in silence, the boy unbuttoning the collar that suddenly feels like it has a chokehold on him while you cross your arms and hope the floor would swallow you a floor down back into the comfort of your home.
Kirishima basically is shutting down the second his eyes lay on you, breaking a sweat as your eyes never waver, despite how you fail to stay standing straight, what was he supposed to say? ‘Hey we’re throwing a birthday party for your ex-boyfriend because he's been feeling depressed from the day you dumped his ass’ ? No!  He wouldn’t do that to his friend, but what was he gonna say now?
Well, he didn’t have to really think about what to say to you, because his other friend didn’t hesitate to push him forward, slurring something along the lines of ‘lettin the hot ladies in so they can take a look at the prettier blond, aka moi’. In his moment of panic, the redhead stumbles forward, his cup slipping from the tips of his fingers and meeting its doom by the floor, whatever was filling it now staining your pants as you both look at the mess between you.
“Woah bro, we said you gotta get’er wet but not- '' Denki's cackle stops him from continuing whatever filth he was gonna spew out - thankfully - before his eyes drop down to your chest, or more like what was covering it. “Hey! You a Dynamight fan? Hey Bakuhoe, comere for a sec.” 
Dear God, move, for the love of all that's pure in this god forsaken world, move! Run!
All you could do is shake and breathe in short segments as your widened eyes meet his unamused ones, the garnets in his eyes glistening at your sight, he stands straight and so tall, suited up in his usual attire. Dressed for the occasion, words aren't able to describe his beauty. You try not to let your brain be dazzled by how incredibly handsome he looks. He is wearing a dress shirt, in the deep color of wine that complements his eyes, dress pants hugging his long legs, not to mention the open collar, and no tie. He looks like a long, lean Lothario. 
At that your eyes drop down to the floor, specifically the now stained carpet, your hands wrenching the end of your hoodie to distract yourself from the piercing rubies that haunts your dreams.
You build up some courage, enough of it to lift your head to continue what you came here to do, so you open your mouth, and drop a few IQs while you’re at it. “The m-music is loud and m’tryin’ to sleep,'' you mumble, noting how Kirishima leans down to make up the words you are saying over the sound of the blaring music while Bakugou narrows his eyes at you as if disregarding his sight will make him hear you better. “So, if you could turn down the heat, that’d be,” 
“You squiffed?” The blond grunts, leaning his face close to yours to inspect it, and he catches a whiff of alcohol in your breath, his eyebrows furrowing at your response. “No I'm not squinting-” 
“Yeah you’re drunk alright,” he huffs at your less than intelligent reply, pushing his glass of whiskey - you figure since it's always been his drink of choice - against Kirishima’s chest, telling him to lower the fucking volume and grabs you by your bicep. “C’mon, I’ll take you home.” you stumble at the force used against you, no matter how weak it actually is, before you barely straighten yourself to push his hand away. “I can walk down all by myself, thank you.” Of course you’d expose where you live, you dumbass.
He doesn’t question your integrity, just continues to basically drag you to the elevator before pushing your apartment door open when you choose your floor, irked to find your misplaced trust in the people of the complex by not locking your door after leaving. He barges into your bedroom and tells you to change out of your fucked up pants and proceeds to saunter to your kitchen to get you water, eyeing the boxes that he comes across during that small trip.
He stands awkwardly by the door when he sees you standing in the middle of the bedroom, sifting through countless moving boxes with your pants on the floor, thrown next to a pile of clothes that he can only assume that its supposed to be your laundry ‘basket’, until you opt against wearing any since you can't seem to find anything to replace them. And when he asks you if you just moved in, his expression sours when you shake your head no and explain to him that you’ve been living for months in this space, after chugging that cup of water like you’ve been parched for days.
“Birthday party?” You ask out of the blue as you play with the strings of your hoodie, your ears perking up at the confirmation hum you receive. “Hmm, thas’cool… I-I guess.” 
Bakugou’s impassive as he gently pushes you onto your bed, eyes meeting yours as he covers you up with your blanket. “Get some rest, I’m leaving.” He said, slowly stalking away from you and barely reaching your door as your big mouth talks on its own. Your body sitting up and facing his retreating back.
“That's what you always do, you always leave”, you utter and you see him stiffen his shoulders before he spins to face you, so fast you almost want to check up on him about getting a whiplash.
“Hah?” it's one syllable, but it shakes your very core, that one sound making you almost shake, overwhelmed by the amount of emotions, the amount of pain that one sound has. He steps closer to your bed, the stomps of his feet sounding like gun shots in your ear, and you pathetically lift up the blanket to cover yourself up, cowering behind it like it's some pseudo shield that might protect you from him.
“I’m the one that leaves?” he growls at you, his eyes sizing you up when you react to his forceful approach, leaning back to look down on you, but his lips are still curled in a frown, he tries to hold himself from blowing up at you, his feelings oddly enough still raw in his chest the moment he lay eyes on you the first time since you left, threw him away and walked away, probably finding someone better, probably finding someone who you tolerated, unlike himself, but when he sees you straighten up your back to rebuttal him, an automatic response to whenever he raised his voice at you from all those years ago, he knows he is in for a fight. 
He snarls when you nod at him, your eyes hard and glaring up at him, not knowing that your silence is by your better judgement since you don't trust your voice, knowing it’ll fail you, probably crack and show him how much he actually is affecting you by his closed off posture and demeaning look down at your frame.
“Real fuckin’ rich of ya, y/n.” He snaps back, his hands brought up to his hair, tugging at it. “As if you didn’t pack your shit,” he kicks at yet another cardboard box fucking spewed in your room, noting its heavy weight when it didn't move but an inch by his action. “Dropped your keys by the fuckin’ door,” as an emphasis, he throws your apartment key at you, making sure it doesn’t actually hit you, but falls onto your lap. “And left. Without a single fuckin’ word, like I'm some lowlife who didn't deserve an explanation, like I didn't deserve anything! And-” that hurt, goddamn it. 
Exhaling deeply, he focuses on how your eyes look a little less glossed over, a little more sober, but holding fear, and he almost steps back and out when he looks at how you’re fighting tears, almost wanting to bust his own kneecaps than to see you like this, always wanting nothing for you but to be happy, to never upset about anything no matter how small it might be.
Then why did you leave him? Left him to drown by his lonesome self, waves of his insecurities and sorrow crashing into him, pulling him even further down to his inevitable doom.
Despite the fact that you both yearn for each other, long to feel one another, engulf yourselves in the others presence. You both stand your ground, eyes glaring despite the emotions hidden behind them, mouths shut and curled into ugly scowls regardless of the words you wish to speak to each other, whispers of promises into each other's ears about being together forever, in spite of not knowing what the future holds.
Bakugou breathes out again, recalling all those months worth of coping mechanisms to exercise when placed in anger inducing situations like this one, the time in therapy spent to better himself, to control himself, to be the best version of himself, for you, hoping that one day you’ll pity him enough to want to come back, knowing full well he would never hold a grudge against you and welcome you back with open arms, intending to never repeat whatever it is he did that made you think of him as so unbearable you couldn't spent another day with him.
You on the other hand, are barely holding in the tears, wanting him to just leave your sight, so you can go back to the world of denial where he didn't look like straight out of a magazine, looking as captivating as always, as if your absence did not have an effect on the hero, of course it wouldn't, why would a quirkless extra have an effect on the great Katsuki Bakugou, that's what he used to call them, right?
“Just leave, Bakugou-” his ears pick up the way your voice breaks at his name, the way you utter it sounds so horrendous, because you aren’t meant to call him Bakugou, you’re meant to call him Katsuki, Katsu, Suki, your Suki. Not- “I hate you.”
The room suddenly spirals. The floor panels misalign themselves into zigzags. Bakugo’s eyes shatter like a glass window. He tries to hold himself against the tears that threaten to fall, stomach wrenching as if reaching from inside of his body, but it’s useless. He brings his hand up close to his chest and sinks his head, letting the words overtake him.
Oblivious to his internal struggle, you pile whatever courage you have left in another attempt to ask him to leave, aware that your body wouldn’t aid you in pushing him away physically, you open your mouth, only to gasp after a moment of silence when he pounces on you and grabs you by the neck, sliding a hand behind your head and leaning your face impossibly closer to his “you fuckin’ hate me? show me you hate me then,”
Then he's pressing his lips against yours, your half foggy mind all too surprised by the flow of motion you can only try to keep up with his feverish kisses, you try to pull away, to push him away, to no avail, Bakugou only stopping his assault on your lips to growl at them again “Show me then, hah?” 
But he wouldn't even let you, his grasp on your neck loosening to circle around your back to push you to him even more. His kisses get more and more aggressive, trying his best to show you how much he was hurt by what you said, by what you did, after all this time, almost begging you to not let him have to voice out whatever he’s feeling because he would do so much of a worse job than he is doing now.
The hands you placed on his chest in a failed attempt to push him away are now just placed over his pecs, welcoming their warmth and the way they flex under your touch, your right hand clenching over where his thumping heart is, and he almost sighs in relief, the movement feeling like it holds together all the broken pieces of his heart to make it whole again.
Almost like that gesture calmed him down, Bakugou’s rough touches start to soften, very caring as they glide to your hips before sliding underneath your - oh my God it's your special edition Dynamight hoodie! His amused chuckle tickles your lips as he pulls away when he feels you stiffen at the realization, barely letting you breathe in ease until he places his lips against your ear. “Love how m’still the only one sprawled over yer tits.”
“But I still want the real thing, lemme see ‘em, hm?” And just before throwing a dumb retort and embarrasing yourself even further, the article is tugged eagerly off of your body and thrown haphazardly on the floor. Earning yourself a low whistle when he realises you’re wearing nothing underneath. Bakugou all but shoves you onto the bed, spreading your legs when you try to rub them against each other for any friction, wedging his body neatly between them as his teeth gently bite your soft buds, pulling them slightly before captivating the nipple entirely.
His tongue flicks against your hardening nipple while keeping a watchful eye at the sinful expressions your face makes, his one hand toying with and twisting the other nipple while the other slides down to tease your needy cunt, pressing his fingers against your -fucking soaked- panties, swearing under his breath at the feeling of your walls trying to clench around his fingers just from that one movement. Sitting on his haunches, he lifts your hips with ease to pull your panties right off, eyes travelling between your heaving chest and your exposed pussy. Before lowering himself and finding comfort in biting and sucking your nipples again.
Bakugou’s smirk grows with your moans as his tongue dances over your sensitive nipples, he presses his finger against your walls, and you immediately keen at the prodding feeling that almost feels foreign after all this time apart. His thumb pushing your pussy lip to the side to see you suck his finger in like the good girl he knew you always were.
“Ba-ba-ba,” you struggle to talk, your drool collecting at your lips, stopping you from forming any words as you feel a breeze hit your spit covered tits, whining at the feeling and wanting him to pull your nipples in the warm cavern of his mouth again. Bakugou’s eyes focus on the spit line connecting his bottom lip to your nipple before disconnecting it to smash his lips against yours in an effort to shut your blabbering up.
“Ba-ba, what? y’better not be callin’ me Bakugou with my fingers deep in yer pussy baby, its Katsuki for you, yeah?” he taunts with a fake pout that immediately turns into a grin at the way you hold your pathetic sobs, pressing another finger in your tight cunt, reveling in the wet sounds your pussy makes as he thrusts his fingers in and out of it, soaking his fingers in your slick as he curls them, eager to hear the squelching sounds it would make when his cock is shoved deep inside you. “Or better yet, lemme hear you say Suki, hmm?”
“Suki- p-please, eat me out” you throw your head back and bring your hands down to play with your clit, showing him where you want his lips to be, as if the blond doesn't already know where it is, and he scoffs at the thought, slapping your hand away and giving another slap to your clit, earning a moan from you from the sharp pleasurable pain.
“Yea, yea I fuckin’ know already, needy slut,” he growls, keeping eye contact as he circles your clit with his tongue before sloppily eating out your cunt, making a mess of both drool and your arousal, mumbling “my needy slut.” to himself, and you do hear it, yet you brush it off with the thought that your lust must be messing with your brain.
Your chest still flutters at his words and your walls clench in on his fingers as he curls them again in a way you didn’t know would make you yelp like it did. He thrives off of how your body responses so easily to him, your back arching and the squelching getting louder as his fingers pick up speed, his tongue so skillful in drawing circles around your clit before sucking it again. A whine escapes you when he draws his head away from you, only for you to see the way his eyes darkens, his chin glistening from your arousal when it catches the light.
“Let go for me princess,” he whispers uncharacteristically, making you question if the glint in his eyes is from his desire for you or something else. “Lemme see you fall apart for me, alright?” the way he’s almost begging you to come undone for him takes you by surprise, and your body curls in on itself so fast, not realizing your orgasm was creeping up on you until it hits you. The knot in your stomach breaks as you gush around his fingers, white crossing your vision as he slows his pace to help you come down from your high. 
Your shuddering body lays on your bed, eyes unwavering as they meet Katsuki’s, his fingers stuffed in his mouth as he moans around them at your taste. It's all a blur after seeing that unravel, and you’re so woozy that you don’t register him discarding his clothes until he lays above you. Placing himself between your legs as he pumps his cock, hardened from seeing you fall apart on his tongue and fingers, his tip leaking precum and burning a bright red.
His movement is almost too quick for you as he dips his head into your leaking hole before pulling right back, a breathless chuckle escaping him when you whine and roll your hips and try to suck him in again, wanting to feel the stretch of him inside of you.
“Didja wanna say somethin’ princess?” he taunts you, one of his hands holding you down by your stomach while the other is wrapped around his length, teasing you in the ways that he knows drive you crazy, he leans in, using the tip of his cock to spread your pussy lips open and running it along your slit to coat it with your arousal.
“Katshu, p-please I-” you hiccup, your fists tightening on your bed sheet as you try to rock your hips up get more than just his leaking tip, but your begging is always interrupted when he isn't hearing what he wants you to say.
“Say you love me.”
You freeze at his demand, your widening eyes looking up at him before you pout your lips, not thinking about surrendering to him, no matter how much you want your cunt stuffed full of him right now.
“I don’love yooou-” you gasp as katsuki’s grip onto your waist tightens and you feel as he gives a thrust into your sopping cunt, arching your back at the burning stretch of being filled up by his thick cock. Katsuki’s hand traces down your left thigh before cupping behind your knee, hiking your leg up and out, close to your chest to expose more of yourself to him, wanting nothing more than to see his dick seething in and out of your tight pretty pussy, and by almost muscle memory, you did the same thing with your right leg, replacing his hands with your own, presenting yourself to him.
“Y’see that? Fuckin’ know you like the back of m’hand, y’think someones gonna- ah, take the fucking time to work you like I did?” he's right, absolutely right, he ruined you for any other potential lovers and he loved it with every fiber in his being, knowing this means you’re always going to be wrapped around his finger. You moan as he pushes more of himself into you, bottoming out and holding one of your tits and squeezing when he feels your walls do the same to his cock.
You hate it, after all this time, you’re still a blubbering mess the second he was one fucking inch deep in your pussy, sucking him in and clawing at his back begging for more. No self respect, no dignity, you hate it, how come after all this time he gets to come here and fuck you like you belong to him, like you’ve belonged to him despite everything that has happened.
You only realize that your eyes are closed when Katsuki’s breath hits your face, and you open them wide, noting how wet your lashes have gotten from your tears, only for him to kiss at the tears gliding along your right temple and licking the ones on your left. He breathes out a chuckle and when he leans to look at your eyes, the humor and menace you expect to see in his eyes are nowhere to be found, clouded by a solemn look instead.
“What? Yer cryin on me now, huh? Y’think a few tears are stoppin’ me?” His voice is masked so well, because he sounds like he was simply enjoying a game, like an imp that had branched from a demon. “C’mon, not gonna tell the birthday boy you love’em?”
“I don't love you, I hate you, h-hate you-” you keen as drool pools at your lips, your body betraying you as it shakes from pleasure, letting go of your legs to wrap them around his slim waist, to bring him in closer, if that was even possible, stopping his deep thrusts that were brushing up against your cervix, it feels pathetic, denying him the pleasure of telling him you love him while clinging onto him like he's your last breath of fresh air, because in a way, you feel like he is, like him leaving would just collapse your lungs and stop your heart from beating, you know that he’s gonna leave you. While your spent body would lay on your bed and you'd cry because you didn't tell him you love him, yet you wouldn’t ask him to stay, knowing deep down that you don't deserve it, you don't deserve him.
You feel his weight on top of you as he rests his elbows by your head, his lips brushing against your ear as he repeats again with every shallow thrust into your warm insides, his cock twitching from time to time in your walls. “You love me.” he says it once, twice, thrice. Every time his voice lowers more and more to a broken whisper, almost a plea instead of the cocky taunt he started off with.
Your legs are starting to ache from the grip they have around him, so you loosen up, your mind easy since his thrusts haven’t been rough nor painful. And when you do, you notice two things immediately, first, your thighs are so soaked from how he's making you feel, probably ruining your bedsheet at this point, second, he pushed his chest away from yours to look you directly in the eyes, one hand molding around your thigh to keep it from wrapping around him again while the other is placed on your stomach, his thumb inching closer and closer to your clit, wanting to toy with it, toy with you, but not ready to give you any satisfaction until you admit to him, please just tell him, that you do still love him. All insecurities, all battle scars, all emotional constipation as layers he covers himself with, that no one gives a fuck to peel off, to see who he really was, except you.
His red eyes lock onto yours as your chest heaves with breathless sobs at the lost of his warmth, and when you think he's lowering himself back down, he pulls out suddenly, sending a  shiver down your spine as you gasp, now feeling like you're frozen over, your tears coming from lack of both pleasure and warmth.
Suddenly your face is met with the pillow and you feel his hands on your hips as he lifts them up and off the bed, your half intoxicated, half aroused mind barely registering that you’ve been flipped over on your stomach until you feel his cock prodding at your cunt, easily sliding in like they’ve been made to be warmed up in there, when you know Katsuki would argue that your pussy was made just for him and to warm his dick.
He presses his chest against your back, pushing you onto the bed as he thrusts his hips roughly, pulling out fully before seething himself right back in, your moans and whimpers muffled by your pillow from being pushed down by his hand as his other holds your hips firmly. 
Then what happened next probably shocked him more than you, despite how delirious you’ve become due to his relentless thrusting, his dripping tears feel cool on your bare warm shoulder, one by one as his groans and moans turn into strangled sobs, before Katsuki digs his teeth into that shoulder, to both hear you scream and to muffle his cries from you. 
“because I love you” he sobs, detaching his teeth from their grip and kissing the bite marks before resting his forehead against it, but his thrusts never cease, getting sloppier, as if the confession is pushing him off the edge. Dragging the tip of his nose from your bitten and bleeding shoulder to the back of your ear, his own face flush and warm against you as he breathes harshly against your ear and kisses along it.
“So-” he moans again, the hand behind your neck now turning your face so he could see your fucked out expression, the tears streaming down your face and the drool that pools under your cheeks, with your tongue lolled out and your eyes barely focusing on his form.
“You better say you do too, becau-”
“I love you.” you gush, like saying it is a breath of fresh air, your eyes never leaving his teary ones, your gaze so intense and fixated on him with no regards to the way the snapping of his hips against yours is shaking your entire body against the bed. 
With new found vigor from your confession, Katsuki grabs onto the meat of your ass, hammering into you from behind with force that pushes you against the bed even further, your pulled hair jerking your head back so he can listen to the lewd noises you are making, long forgotten the will to cover your pleasure and hiding your moans.
Your ass heavily slaps against his thighs as he grabs your hips with both hands and pounds into your sopping wet cunt, relishing in the way you’re begging for him. “Y’like it when I fuck you baby, hmm? Like it when I stuff you so fuckin’ full of me?” He growls, feeling you push your ass back every time you repeat ‘yes’ to his questions. “Yes, yes love it, love you, please please don’t stop, please ‘Suki. Yes, gonna cum ‘Suki please” you weep, your head pounding from the grip he had on your hair and your eyes crossing as you feel his thrusts stutter, getting sloppier when you bounce your ass against him, his hand coming down and slapping it.
“That's fuckin’ right, cum on this cock, c’mon baby” he brings four of his fingers to rub your clit with urgency, and you can’t help but arch your back as your orgasm hits you again, screeching as you feel your walls tightening on him, squeezing him for what he’s worth. “F-fuck ah, y-you’re so- Fuck” his heavy weight falls on you as he fills you to the brim with his milky seed, forehead pressed against your shoulder as he rocks his hips against you, pushing more of his load inside before slowly pulling out, gaze flutters down to where your bodies were once joined, seeing your mixed arousal seeping out of your hole and he has half a mind to push it back in with his fingers.
But he flips you over effortlessly, the sight of your crossed out eyes and wet cheeks squeezing his chest at the realization he might’ve been too rough on you, so he wipes your cheek with the palm of his hands and revels in the way you lean towards him, turning your face to kiss his palm. “Say it again.” barely a whisper, as you flip his hand and kiss the back of it as well, and he almost repeats himself, thinking you didn’t hear him, but your hands reach up and cup his face, bringing him towards you. “I love you Katsuki” and goddamn if that wasn’t the most beautiful thing you’ve ever spoken. “Again,” “I love you, Katsuki” “Again,” you giggle, and he knows that's probably what angels sound like.
Your thumb brushes over his warm cheeks, red from showing vulnerability, and you pull him even closer, “Happy birthday, ‘Suki.”
“Yea,” He breaths out, his lips barely brushing against your bitten and bruised ones. “It really fuckin’ is.”
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aaaaaaaaah! Hope you enjoyed it! Lemme know what you think of the smut, I also changed my writing style from past tenses to present tenses or tried to at least
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if you want to be tagged with for any of my fics let me know ♡
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hxlyhead-harpies · 4 years
Text
Congratulations Weasley
Hi everyone!! This is for the lovely @heloisedaphnebrightmore ‘s 1k celebration! Congrats!! you totally deserve it! I really like this fic and i hope you all like it as well!
Summary: Fred Weasley has been completely insufferable and mean since third year. Unfortunately the reader still feels for him even after he takes his teasing too far
Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader
Word Count: 3.6k
Warnings: Angst with a happy end
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You didn’t mean to blow up on him like that. You didn’t mean to be blinded by unadulterated rage and let those words leave your lips. But if you were being honest with yourself, he thoroughly deserved it. After years and years of letting his words carve chinks into your armor, you were through. You simply couldn’t handle it anymore.
You had sat in the common room in your favorite skirt, hands folded neatly in your lap. You kept reaching up to smooth your hair, attempting to look your best. Cormac was supposed to meet you in the common room at noon. He was supposed to escort you to Hogsmeade where you’d eat at Madame Pudifoot’s. It was supposed to be romantic.
You were excited; it was your first date after all. You didn’t quite know if you fancied Cormac. He was brash and occasionally rude, but the feeling of being wanted to outweigh his flaws. It was rare that a boy would give you attention, so when Cormac had suavely asked you out, you couldn’t help but become giddy.
Angelina and Katie had helped you pick out an outfit. It was simple- a black skirt and a simple sweater- but you felt pretty nonetheless.
So you sat and waited. And waited. And waited. For hours you sat on the same sofa in the same position, slowly letting your resolve disappear.
You didn’t know what you had expected. Cormac was known to be an arsehole. Yet, the sting of rejection still affected you, causing you to push back tears.
Around three in the afternoon, Katie and Angelina stepped through the portrait hole. They were laughing about something, smiling wide. But when they caught sight of you, their smiles dropped.
“(Y/n)?” Angelina said, furrowing her brow. She shrugged off her jacket and made her way towards you.
“What are you still doing here?” Katie asked. You just shrugged.
“Still waiting for Cormac I suppose,” was your response. Angelina and Katie shared a look of pity. You blinked back tears. Angelina sat down on the couch next to you and rubbed your shoulder.
“He never showed?” she asked softly. You shook your head. Katie sat on your other side and laid her head on your shoulder.
“Well, he’s an absolute git then,” she began, “Can’t see how great you are.” You smiled softly at her words.
“Thank you,” you said softly.
“I can’t believe he would do this,” Angelina said with a hint of anger lacing her voice.
“I can,” you said with a sniffle.
At that moment, the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan stumbled through the portrait hole. You felt yourself stiffen. You had been friends with Lee and George since first year when you had spilled pumpkin juice on Lee one morning. The two of them were great; always joking with you and always making you feel welcome. But Fred was a whole other story. You had been friends with him in your early years of schooling as well, with you developing a small crush on him in the process. It was a puppy love kind of crush. The kind that had you giggling with your girlfriends at thirteen.
But in fourth year something had shifted. While your feelings for him only become stronger, he seemed to develop a strong dislike for you. The usual playful teasing turned into something genuinely meant to sting. His words no longer carried a playful tone, but only one with venom. You weren’t sure what had caused him to hate you, but all you knew was that you couldn’t hate him.
The three of them stepped into the common room, cheeks still flushed from the late autumn chill. The boys had wide smiles on their faces, which only dropped when they saw you. Lee and George immediately took notice of the tear tracks that ran down your face and concern filled their eyes.
“(Y/n)?” George questioned, taking a step towards you. You simply shot him a weak smile. The boys made their way over to the sofa.
“Are you alright?” Lee asked softly. You opened your mouth to answer but Fred interrupted you.
“Oh what is it this time?” he asked with an eye roll. Your eyebrows shot up. You were not in the mood for his insults.
“Fred…” Angelina hissed in a low warning tone. Fred ignored her.
“You’re always so dramatic, crying at the drop of a hat,” he complained. George gave him a swift elbow to the ribs.
“George!” he cried, touching the now tender area.
“Well Fred, I’ll have you know that she has every right to be upset,” Katie said, glaring at him. Fred scoffed.
“I doubt it,” he said in a low tone before flopping into the armchair across from you.
“What was it this time? You didn’t get top marks on a potions essay?” he guessed, “oh wait no! I bet you snapped a quill. What a tragedy!”
“Shove off Fred,” you said in a low voice. He just sent you a glare.
“So what happened?” George asked with genuine concern. You looked down at your hands as you felt the tears begin to rise again.
“McLaggen stood her up,” Katie explained.
“What an arsehole,” Lee exclaimed, shaking his head. George and Lee tried their very best to comfort you, offering to get back at Cormac for you. Their ideas of how to prank him made you laugh, slightly alleviating your sadness.
“Well, I don’t know what you expected,” Fred said, interrupting his friends. You turned to him, frowning.
“Please stop Fred,” you said, “I’m not in the mood today.”
“Well, I mean why would he want to go out with you?” he continued anyway. Your mouth dropped open in shock.
“Fred quit it,” George whispered to his twin. Fred just waved him off.
“I mean come on, McLaggen goes out with loads of girl but even he isn’t that desperate,” he said, gesturing towards you. You felt your cheeks grow warmer with rage.
“Shut up,” you said quietly, but he pushed on.
“I’m happy for him,” Fred said with a smile. Angelina squeezed your shoulder.
“Fred stop it,” she said defensively.
“He dodged a bullet,” Fred said, leaning back with a smirk. You stood up suddenly, rage flowing through your veins.
“Fred Weasley what is wrong with you,” you shouted. Fred froze. You had never fought back before.
“Do you really hate me so much?” you questioned, “so much that you feel the need to spend every minute of your existence trying to make me feel miserable?” Your hot tears were flowing freely at this point. Fred just gaped at you, his mouth opening and closing as if attempting to force out a response.
“Because if that was your goal? Congratulations Weasley, you’ve accomplished it,” you said, glaring at him. You turned to storm up to the dormitory. He stood up now too, seemingly regaining her senses.
“(Y/n) wait!” he shouted after you. You turned around and looked at him.
“I wish I never met you,” you yelled back at him. And with that, you turned and ran from him, leaving your shocked friends behind you.
~~~~~
“I hate him,” you said, laying on your back and staring up at the canopy above your bed. You felt the bed dip as Angelina sat down beside you.
“Me too,” she said, giving you a look that let you know that she didn’t believe you. You groaned and hit her with your pillow. Katie flopped down on your other side.
“I don’t know Angie, I don’t care how long she’s fancied him. I’d hate him too after what he just said,” Katie added, agreeing with you. Angelina shook her head.
“I’m sure he didn’t mean it,” she said. You flipped over so you were now on your stomach and stared at her.
“Angelina you say that every time he says things like this. I don’t think I believe you anymore,” you said. Angelina just shook her head.
“I swear! Fred isn’t mean. He wouldn’t purposely hurt you,” she explained.
“Yeah, he’s not mean to you,” you huffed. Angelina just shrugged.
“Maybe he’ll apologize this time,” Katie speculated. As usual, she was looking on the bright side.
“I doubt it,” you scoffed, “Fred never apologizes.”
“He actually seemed pretty upset after you left,” Katie explained. Angelina nodded.
“Yeah he kept pacing and looking towards the stairs like he was waiting for you to come back down,” she added.
“I don’t care what he did after I left. Do you think an apology could fix this?” you questioned. Your friends looked down at your quilt, knowing that you were right. Even after years of hurtful teasing, Fred had never said anything quite like this before. You were finally fed up with his insults and digs at you. Even if your heart still slightly ached for him, you couldn’t allow yourself to keep hurting. You sat up suddenly and surely and held your head high.
“I am done with him. From this moment on I am getting over Fred Weasley.”
~~~~~
For weeks you avoided him. You left the Great Hall when he would arrive. You’d sit as far from him as possible in lessons, and if he was with your friends, you’d leave or pretend that he wasn’t there. You weren’t quite sure if it even mattered though. He hadn’t attempted to make another dig at you since that day in the common room. Angelina and Katie were impressed with you. They had not expected you to stay away from him for so long. In the past, if he had made fun of you you’d usually brushed it off and continue to grin and bear it. But it was your last year and you were determined to enjoy your remaining time at school. And that meant staying away from Fred.
Though this didn’t stop you from missing him occasionally. Sometimes as you fell asleep you envisioned his fiery red locks and his distinctive smokey scent. The scent that you had smelled in your amortentia in fifth year. You envisioned him apologizing to you and trying to right his wrongs. But it was just a fantasy.
~~~~~
You were sitting in the library, your defense against the dark arts assignment in front of you. You were focused, your eyes scanning your textbook when someone sat across from you. You looked up and met eyes with none other than Cormac McLaggen. You narrowed your eyes. He hadn’t spoken to you since the day he stood you up.
“Hey (Y/n),” he said with a smirk.
“What do you want McLaggen?” you asked.
“Ouch. I thought we were on a first-name basis,” he said with mock offense. You rolled your eyes.
“No. You lost that privilege when you left me waiting for you in the common room instead of taking me out on our date,” you responded. McLaggen just laughed.
“Didn’t I apologize for that? I’m pretty sure I did,” he said. You scoffed.
“You didn’t. And even if you did apologize I wouldn’t be interested,” you answered. He just pouted at you in response.
“Come on, why don’t we give it another go? You and me at the black lake after dinner,” he said. You groaned.
“No. Now please leave me alone,” you answered. He furrowed his brows.
“Oh don’t be so whiny. Just meet me there after dinner,” he said, appearing frustrated. You opened your mouth to respond but were cut off by another voice.
“She said no mate.” You turned around to see none other than Fred Weasley. McLaggen scowled at him.
“This isn’t any of your business Weasley,” he said. Fred sat down in the chair next to you.
“She’s my friend so I reckon that it is my business,” he answered defensively. McLaggen stiffened.
“You heard him,” you piped up, “leave me alone.” And with that, McLaggen stood up and walked away.
“You’re not getting another chance,” he said over his shoulder. You rolled your eyes.
“Good,” you retorted. After he had left you turned to Fred.
“Thank you,” you said curtly. He just nodded but made no move to leave the table. After a moment of silence, you began to hurriedly pack your things, determined to continue avoiding him.
“(Y/n), please,” he said, reaching for your arm. You scoffed and pulled it away.
“What do you want Weasley?” you asked. Fred flinched at your use of his last name.
“I just want to talk,” he answered. You continued to shove your things in your bag.
“I’m not interested in talking to you,” you responded. He let out a frustrated huff.
“I can tell. All you’ve done is avoid me,” he said. You paused and looked at him.
“Do you really think I’d be interested in seeing you after what you said to me? After all you’ve said to me?” you huffed. Fred looked down and gulped ashamedly.
“No,” was his response. You just shook your head and stalked out of the library.
~~~~~
After the library incident, Fred seemed to be on a mission. What his plan was, you weren’t sure, but you were on your guard. He timed his mornings so he could force himself beside you at the breakfast table. He would pour you your orange juice himself. During free time, he’d sit near you in the common room and attempt to make you laugh, telling over the top jokes. And the insults had stopped, the factor that had surprised you the most. Suddenly there was a new version of Fred in your life. Or rather, an old version that you hadn’t seen since third year. It confused you and you weren’t sure what his end game was.
One night you were sitting alone in the common room. Angelina and Katie had gone upstairs already but you continued to work on your potions essay beside the fire. You heard the portrait hole open and you turned to see the twins stumble through. It was well past curfew and you were certain the Filch was hot on their tail. George spotted you and waved before heading towards the boy’s dorms. Fred shot you a small smile but lingered in the center of the room. You sent him a curious gaze before returning to your assignment. After a moment you felt the sofa dip and saw that Fred had sat down beside you.
“Can we talk?” he asked. It was the same question that he had asked you weeks before in the library. You sighed.
“Fred I told you that I wasn’t interested in talking to you,” you replied, rubbing your temples.
“Please (Y/n),” he said, his eyes pleading with you.
“Fine,” you responded, “what do you have to say.” Fred looked down at his lap.
“I am so so sorry (Y/n). For what I said that day and for everything I said before,” he said. You scoffed.
“Do you really expect sorry to be enough?” you asked. He closed his eyes and shook his head.
“I never meant to hurt you,” was all he said. You felt yourself become angry again.
“Never meant to hurt me? What a load of rubbish! How did you think I would feel every time you insulted me?” you asked with a huff. Fred grabbed your hands.
“You seemed like you had a thick skin and I was stupid-” his voice was thick with emotion as you pulled your hands away and cut him off.
“None of that is a good enough excuse,” you said.
“I’m so sorry,” he murmured once again. You gathered your things and made a move to get up. Fred made no attempt to stop you. You turned to head towards your room but hesitated.
“Fred I just need to ask you one thing,” you said as you slowly turned to face him. He looked at you with wide and hopeful eyes.
“Ask me anything. Anything at all,” he answered.
“Why. Why did you spend years being so terrible to me,” you asked, hoping for an answer to the questioned you had tortured yourself with for years.
“Because I’m in love with you,” he answered without a beat. Your mouth dropped open.
“What?” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
“I was in love with you and I knew you would never feel the same. It felt better to distance myself than to pine,” he continued. You felt as if your heart had dropped into your stomach. The words that you had wanted to hear for years had finally been spoken but all they did was cause you pain.
“I never thought about how it would affect you,” he said honestly, “I was selfish.” You just gaped at him, unsure of what to say. You almost didn’t trust yourself to say anything. You were afraid that if you spoke you would just drop into his arms and let your resolve crumble, allowing yourself to say the same words back. But you knew that you couldn’t do that. Not when the pain of his words still stung like a fresh wound.
“I don’t know what you want me to say,” you said after what felt like hours of silence.
“Well I had hoped that you felt the same,” he said, “but I expected you to slap me and storm off.” You almost smiled at his weak attempt at a joke.
“Fred I-” you started.
“It’s okay you don’t need to say anything,” he said, cutting you off. He stood up and made his way towards the stairs.
“I really am sorry,” he said once more before he began to ascend. You watched him leave.
“Fred wait!” you called after him. He turned to look at you. “I admit that I feel something for you,” you said. Fred began to smile.
“(Y/n) that’s-” you held your hand up to cut him off.
“But I can’t just allow myself to be with you. To just pretend that you never hurt me,” you said, “I’m worth more than that.” Fred nodded.
“You are. But I swear, I will spend every minute trying to prove to you that I love you. And I hope that someday you’ll give me a chance,” he said earnestly. You gave him a small smile.
“Good luck then,” you said, before turning around and scurrying up the stairs.
~~~~~
Fred kept true to his word and tried his best to win you over. He followed you around like a lost puppy, giving you small gifts and compliments. You always thanked him but never let your guard down as he doted on you. You were always afraid that things would go back to how they used to. But they never did. You began to look forward to classes when he would pass you short notes with jokes on them or when he would try to make you laugh from the other side of the room. You began to enjoy it when he would come to bother you in the library when you tried to study. He would try to distract you by playing with our hair or dramatically laying across the table. You started to look forward to his interruptions. Slowly your guard began to fall, but you were still careful with yourself and with your heart. But it seemed that Fred was as well.
~~~~~
The seasons began to change and so did your feelings for Fred. You found yourself daydreaming about him more often than before. And somewhere deep in the back of your mind, you allowed yourself to play with the idea of being with him. He was slowly repairing the heart that he had broken. After the Easter holidays, you found yourself alone with him by the black lake. You leaned under a tree with a book in your hand and he laid beside you.
“(Y/n),” he whined, “I’m bored.” You rolled your eyes at him.
“You could go find George or Lee and do something. No one’s forcing you to be out here,” you said with a smile. He sat up and smiled at you.
“But you’re out here. Where else would I want to be,” he said. You felt your face heat up as you shoved his shoulder.
“Oi! What was that for woman!” He yelled, playing throwing a handful of grass at you.
“Freddie!” you squealed, not realizing that you’d let his nickname slip past your lips. He froze.
“You haven’t called me that since third year,” he said quietly. You smiled.
“Well you haven’t been this nice to me since third year,” you answered teasingly. Fred ducked his head. The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a few moments. You allowed yourself to stare at him unashamedly. His cheeks were flushed from the warm spring weather as he played with the grass on his robes. His hair was tousled and unkempt and you felt yourself reach out to fix it. He looked up at you with his jaw slacked as you ran your fingers through his hair.
“There,” you said, “all better.” He grinned at you, making you flush. You moved your hand from his hair and moved it to rest on his cheek. Fred placed his hand over yours as he leaned into your touch.
“I love you,” he murmured softly, too enamored with you to even realize that he said it. Your smile only widened.
“I love you too,” you responded softly. Fred’s eyes widened as he realized what you had said. His smile stretched impossibly wide.
“Did I hear that right? Did you just say that you loved me?” he asked teasingly. You rolled your eyes with a smile.
“Yes. I love you, idiot,” you replied. He immediately tackled you with a hug, causing you to squeal with laughter. He leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. It was a clunky first kiss. A first kiss interrupted by lovesick smiles and laughter.
“You love me!” he exclaimed loudly causing you to giggle. You just leaned up and gave him a quick peck.
“Congratulations Weasley,” you said, “You’ve accomplished your goal.”
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criminalmindzjunkie · 4 years
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Avoidance
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part two
Summary: Reader doesn’t know what she did to make Spencer hate her so much.
A/N: This fic is just a reminder that sub!Spencer lives rent free in my head at all times. Also, if anyone would like to be on a taglist for one shots like these, let me know! I’m going to work on getting one started.
Pairing: sub!Spencer/femdom! reader
Content Warnings: honestly way too much swearing, sexual harassment, slapping, hands free orgasm, oral sex (male and female receiving), hand job, orgasm denial, edging, unprotected sex, vaginal penetration, degradation, femdom 
Word Count: 8.2k
           I have absolutely no idea what I’ve done to make Spencer Reid hate me.
           Usually, when someone despises a person to the point of complete and total avoidance, there’s a reason. No one just wakes up and decides to resent another person for the hell of it – right? Wrong.
           Because Spencer Reid positively loathes me – and I have no idea why.
           It all started on my first day at the BAU. I had somehow landed the highly coveted job of media liaison after the previous one had decided to complete the training to be a profiler. For reasons unbeknownst to me, they thought a twenty-four-year-old fresh out of college with no prior job experience was the best fit for the position. I didn’t understand it, but I also wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
           To say that I had been terrified the first time I set foot into the bullpen would be the understatement of the century. After a very formal and very intimidating orientation with the unit chief, my predecessor, a beautiful blonde named Jennifer, offered herself up to be my personal tour guide. Jennifer introduced me to the other members of the team, and with every smiling face I came in contact with, my fears of being the odd man out were assuaged. I could tell that Penelope Garcia, tech analyst extraordinaire, would most likely be my biggest ally – and it was abundantly clear that Derek Morgan and I would probably get into a fair amount of mischief together. Elle Greenaway seemed like the obvious choice for a future drinking buddy, and Jason Gideon – well, he merely grunted at me in acknowledgment before retreating back to his office. I figured three out of four wasn’t so bad.
           I didn’t meet Doctor Spencer Reid until after lunch. Jennifer mentioned something about him guest lecturing at a local university, which surprised me considering she mentioned him being a year younger than me. Apparently, the kid was an actual genius, which was more than a little bit intimidating, but Jennifer assured me that Spencer was a sweetheart.
           “He’s a little quirky, but I’m sure you’ll love him. Just don’t be surprised if he tries to talk your ear off,” Jennifer laughs. “Last week I asked him about the weather and he went off on a tangent about climate change that lasted nearly an hour.”
           By the time Spencer strolled into the bullpen at exactly one in the evening, I was sitting perched atop Jennifer’s desk, thoroughly engrossed as she told me about their latest case. When she stops talking midsentence in favor of smiling at someone behind me, I half expect that Morgan is attempting to sneak up on me, when:
           “Hey, look who’s back,” Jennifer greets, prompting me to turn around excitedly. I was eager to put a face to the man I’d heard so much about.
           And when I turn, my eyes land on the prettiest man I’ve ever seen.
           Sharp cheekbones and a chiseled jawline are framed by shaggy brown hair, complete with beautiful brown eyes and soft, pillowy lips. As if his good looks weren’t enough, he’s dressed in the most adorably nerdy sweater vest and a pair of thin framed glasses. He’s absolutely precious – a fact that Jennifer had conveniently left out.
           “How was the lecture?” Jennifer asks him as he places his satchel on the desk adjacent to hers. Spencer perks up at this, smiling excitedly from across the divider.
           “I think it went really good, actually. I incorporated this really cool joke that I heard about quantum physics. Do you want to-”
           He stops abruptly when he realizes Jennifer isn’t his only spectator, and those lovely brown eyes go almost comically wide when they settle on me.
           “Spencer, this is Y/N Y/L/N. She’s the new media liaison. Y/N, this is Doctor Spencer Reid.”
           I give him my best smile, tacking on a small wave for good measure.
           “It’s nice to meet you, Doctor Reid. Jennifer’s told me a lot about you.”
           “Uh, y-yeah. It’s n-nice to meet you, too,” Spencer stutters. He looks positively stricken and I’m fairly sure he hasn’t blinked in over a minute. I cast a glance at Jennifer, who seems just as confused as I am.
           Well, she had mentioned that he was a tad strange.
           “I’d like to hear the joke,” I offer, only to immediately regret it when I see him tense up.
           “N-No, that’s o-okay,” he chokes out as he struggles to gather the files on his desk. “It’s n-not that good, anyways.”
           And just as quickly as he came, Spencer leaves in a flurry of crumpled papers, leaving Jennifer and I wondering what the fuck just happened.
--
           Things didn’t get better with time. In fact, they got much worse.
           In the six months that I had been working for the BAU, I could count my interactions with Spencer Reid on one hand. It wasn’t for lack of trying on my part – in my desperation to figure out what I’d done to make him avoid me, I sought out the young genius every chance I got. But every time I got within ten feet of him, it’s like an alarm would sound in his head and he’d make up some excuse to leave the room.
           The others had noticed his strange behavior, too. It seemed they all had made a sort of game out of it – calling Spencer into rooms that I was in just to see him panic, or asking me to personally deliver files to his desk. At first, I played into it, hoping that their teasing would help to diffuse some of the tension.
           After a month of being on the receiving end of Spencer’s cold shoulder, I started avoiding him, too.
           I tried to act indifferent – like it didn’t hurt me as badly as it did. I no longer sought him out, and by month two, we had a sort of understanding. I didn’t go near him, and he didn’t go near me, and that’s how it went on for four miserable months.
           Until today.
           “Reid, Y/L/N, you’re in 202.”
           I damn near drop my bag on the floor. This was bound to happen at some point or another, but I hadn’t planned on that day being today, and I was not prepared. After nine hours of running around the local police department, my body was weighed down from fatigue and I was downright grumpy. Not to mention I had picked the worst possible day to try and break in a new pair of heels, and my feet were throbbing.
           Needless to say, I was in no mood to deal with Spencer Reid’s bullshit.
           “Uh, Hotch? Could I maybe room with Elle?” I ask, sending a glare in Morgan’s direction when he snorts out a laugh. Hotch raises an eyebrow at me.
           “Why? Is there a problem?”
           Yes, sir, there certainly is. And your guess is as good as mine as to what that problem is.
           “No, but I just think that-”
           “Good. Then you should be fine to share a room with him.”
           Right.
           I spare a brief glance at Spencer, who, in the last thirty seconds, has turned the color of a tomato. I pray that he’ll speak up and voice his discomfort, but just like always, he stays silent.
           Hotch doles out the room keys and I begin the trek down the hallway, my poor aching feet groaning in protest with every step. I’m vaguely aware of the sound of footsteps behind me, and it’s not until I swipe the key into the key card that Spencer speaks.
           But not to me – no, never to me.
           “Derek, please, I’m begging you. Just switch with me this one time, and – and I’ll do your reports for a month!”
           After six months of dealing with Spencer’s aversion to me, his words should come as no surprise. And really, I’d expected as much - but that didn’t mean it hurt any less.
           “Not happening, kid. This is the perfect opportunity for you to get over whatever problem you have with Y/N. I bet you’ll even end up liking her. She’s not going to be rude to you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
           “… T-That’s not what I’m worried abo-”
           I don’t wait around to hear the rest of his sentence. I push open the door to the room, not bothering to wait for Spencer before closing it. I kick off my heels as soon as the door clicks shut, letting out a half relieved, half frustrated  groan.
           After claiming the bed nearest the air conditioner as my own, I pluck my pajamas and toiletry bag out from my suitcase and shuffle over to the bathroom. The way I see it, the quicker I get a shower and can go to sleep, the faster the night will pass. Before I know it, this unfortunate situation will be a thing of the past.
           After drawing out the shower for as long as I possibly could, I exit the bathroom clad in a tank top and a pair of shorts, hair dripping wet and skin freshly scrubbed clean. Spencer’s sitting on his bed, book in hand and tie loosened. He doesn’t look up at me when I walk by - not that I’d expected him to. A thick silence hangs in the air as I pull a bottle of lotion out from my suitcase, and I debate turning on the TV just to make things slightly less awkward. In the end I decide against it, because I doubt even that could make this situation better.
           I prop a leg up on the bed and begin to lather my legs in cherry scented lotion, paying special care to my aching feet before moving on. It’s not until both of my legs have been thoroughly massaged and coated in lotion that I look up.
           Spencer’s eyes are locked on me, mouth hanging open and chest heaving up and down. His knuckles are white from how hard they’re clutching the book in his hands, but despite that I can still see the way they’re trembling. When he realizes I've caught him staring, he closes his mouth and gulps hard.
           I straighten up and raise an eyebrow in a silent question, and that’s enough for Spencer to snap his book shut and scramble off of the bed. He’s clumsy as he moves to his suitcase, dropping his bottle of travel shampoo twice before he reaches the bathroom. If I wasn’t so off put by whatever the hell had just happened, I might have thought it cute.
--
           As if the universe thought my current predicament wasn’t enough to deal with, the next morning I was dealt another shitty hand. This time, my distress came in the form of a young cop who couldn’t pick up on social cues to save his life. After an entire morning of dodging sleazy advances, I finally managed to shake him when his superior sent him out to go and actually do his fucking job.
           Or so I thought.
           I’m standing in the breakroom, pouring my fourth (or is it my fifth?) cup of coffee when I hear the sound of footsteps in the hall. I don’t know if I’ve developed a sixth sense about these things, or if I’m just particularly on edge today, but I know it’s the young officer before he can even cross the threshold.
           And when he does, and he sees that he has me cornered, a saccharine smile stretches across his lips.
           “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he drawls in an accent that could probably be attractive if he wasn’t so damn skeevy.
           “Might wanna get your eyes checked,” I mutter, refusing to look in his direction as I stir my coffee.
           “Pretty and feisty. Just how I like my women.”
           “I am not your anything,” I seethe, and instead of backing off like any respectful human being would, he just chuckles and begins to saunter towards me.
           “C’mon baby, you don’t have to be that way. You don’t have to act all professional with me.”
           “Don’t call me that.” I look at him now, and the smug, self-righteous smile on his face makes my blood boil.
           “You don’t like baby? That’s fine – I’m sure I can think of lots of other things to call you,” he murmurs. He’s closer now, so close that I can practically feel his breath against my neck.
           “I’m going to tell you to stop one more time, and it would be in your best interest to listen,” I growl.
           “Or what?” he taunts. “I’d like to see you try to stop me.”
           I jolt forward when a hand comes down hard on my ass, squeezing me harshly through the material of my skirt.
           Oh, fuck no.
           I’m whirling around faster than I ever thought possible, and then a harsh crack sounds throughout the room as my hand comes in contact with his face.
           My hand stings from the contact, but the pain is welcome because he flies backwards, stumbling and grasping as his already reddening cheek.
           “What the fuck?” he roars, eyes flashing with unbridled fury. I take several steps towards him, and to my utmost delight he nearly trips over himself in his hurry to put distance between us. I stop when his back hits the wall and I lean in until our faces are only inches apart.
           “Listen here, you limp dick fuck,” I snarl. “I’m getting real sick and fucking tired of pathetic pieces of shit like you thinking they can put their hands on women. What’s your problem? Are you so fucking tactless that you can’t get anyone to fuck you?” I punctuate my question by jabbing my pointer finger into his chest and cocking my head to the side. “Are you so unappealing that the only way you can get your hands on a woman is to wait until she’s alone and try to corner her?
           Or is it a power thing? You’ve got the gun and the badge so you think you’re entitled to just take what you want, don’t you? You think no one can stop you because you’re in a position of power. Well, I have some news for you – I outrank you, and you just assaulted a federal agent. I will not stop until I ruin your fucking career, and if you even think of trying to lie your way out of this, I’ll do a helluva lot fucking worse. After the week I’m having, I am just looking for an excuse to kick your fucking dick into the dirt. Do you understand?”
           By the time I finish speaking, my chest is heaving up and down and my eyes are narrowed into slits. The officer is so angry that he’s shaking, hands balled up to fists at his sides. For a moment, I think he’ll try to hit me, but then his hard-exterior cracks and the anger gives way to fear.
           “You – You can’t tell anyone about this,” he says, trying his best to sound menacing. But his voice wavers, and I can tell he’s losing his grip. “It’ll r-ruin my career.”
           I raise my hand up to his cheek, placing my palm over the red imprint I had left on his skin. And then I flash him the sweetest goddamn smile that ever there was.
           “I’d like to see you try to stop me.”
           I give him a pat on the cheek before turning around and heading for the door, only to stop halfway when I see that I have an audience of one.
           Spencer stands in the doorway, a coffee mug gripped tightly in one hand, mouth agape and eyes wide. He’s standing stock still, eyes darting in between the police officer and me. I let out an exasperated sigh because of-fucking-course it would be Spencer that would happen to walk in on whatever that just was.
           “Close your mouth, Reid. That’s how you catch flies,” I deadpan, prompting Spencer to snap his mouth shut.
           Without another word, I brush past him and leave the break room.
--
           I suppose the universe had decided to finally give me a break, because that afternoon we were able to apprehend the unsub. But my good fortune only went so far, because Hotch announced that we would be leaving first thing in the morning – which meant another night alone with Spencer Reid.
           He didn’t mention what he walked in on when the two of us arrived back at our room, and I didn’t expect him to. The two of us went about the motions of unwinding from the day in complete and utter silence, and by the time I emerge from the shower I decide that I’ve had enough.
           “I’m gonna go stay with Elle and Derek,” I murmur as I zip up my suitcase and slip on my shoes.
           “Oh. O-Okay.”
           And that was that.
           It’s about an hour later when my phone is on four percent that I realize I hadn’t remembered to bring my charger with me. I contemplate just letting it die, but the idea of sitting through a seven-hour jet ride tomorrow without it sounds excruciating. Then again, so does the idea of having to suffer through an interaction with Spencer.
           The phone wins out in the end, and with Derek and Elle still snoring softly in their respective beds, I slip out of the room and into the hallway. With any luck, Spencer will be in a similar state and I’ll be able to sneak in and out without him waking up.
           I think thank my lucky stars when I slowly crack open the door to Spencer’s room and see that the lights are off. I take special care to close the door as quietly as possible before tiptoeing across the carpeted floors, feeling my way around in the dark so that I don’t trip over anything.
I make it halfway across the room when I hear it – it’s quiet, and if the air conditioner had been on, I wouldn’t have even heard it at all. It’s faint, so faint that I wonder if I’d imagined it, but then that same sound breaks through the silence and I know it’s not a product of my imagination.
I hear the covers rustle, and then a low moan followed by the distinct sound of skin on skin. My blood runs cold as the moans grow louder and more frequent, rolling off Spencer’s lips in rapid succession. There’s heavy breathing and whimpering and holy fuck I just walked in on Spencer Reid masturbating.
Spencer cries out a particularly load moan, one that sounds so pornographic that it shoots straight to my core. It’s sexy and dirty and he sounds absolutely wrecked, and the part of my brain that is still capable of logical thinking is screaming get out! Get out, now!
I begin to slowly backtrack, moving at one tenth of the speed that I had coming in because the possibility of being caught is absolutely not an option. If Spencer hates me now, he’d really hate me if he found out I snuck into his room at night and heard… that.
I’m about five feet away from the door when:
“O-Oh my God, yes! Y/N, please - fuck!”
I think then that I certainly have to be dreaming, because there’s no way I’d just heard him correctly. There’s no way that Spencer – the same Spencer that scurried out of the room when I walked in – was moaning my name while he touched himself. Absolutely not.
But then it happens again and again and again – my name falling from his lips incessantly like some kind of debauched chant.
It feels like my skin is on fire – my mind a befuddled mess – and before my brain can tell me what a terrible idea it is, my feet are carrying me back into the room and I’m coming to a stop at the foot of Spencer’s bed.
Bathed in the glow of the moonlight shining through the window, Spencer looks ethereal. There’s a thin line of sweat beading on his forehead, and his usually meticulously slicked back hair is fanned out on the pillow like some sort of halo. His teeth are nestled into his bottom lip now, and all that can be heard are tiny whimpers as his hand slides up and down underneath the bed sheets. Spencer’s always beautiful, almost painfully so. But the way he looks now, shadows dancing across his face as he works himself to orgasm, is infinitely more breathtaking than words can express.
It doesn’t take long for Spencer to release his lip from beneath his teeth, and when he does my name is flying out of his mouth once more.
I take that as my invitation to speak.
“I don’t think I’ve heard you say my name before.”
Spencer’s entire body stills and his eyes fly open to reveal two dark pools full of sheer panic.
“I-I can explain,” he stammers, moving to clutch the comforter to his chest in an attempt to cover himself.
I let out a hum and sit down on the edge of the bed.
“Please do. I’m very interested in hearing about just what you were picturing me doing.”
Spencer sucks in a harsh breath. I can practically see the wheels in his brain turning -desperately trying to concoct some kind of reasonable explanation.
“I-I… I don’t… I’m s-sorry,” he stutters, and it’s so adorable how he’s squirming underneath my gaze that I decide to help him out.
“Was I sucking you off? Or were you fucking me?” I wonder aloud. He tries to hide it, thinking the covers will mask the way that his hips buck up, but I definitely see it.
“I-I…”
“Which was it, Spencer? Was I taking you down my throat or were you fucking my pussy? Or maybe I was coming undone on your face – was that it?”
Spencer lets out a low groan, and if my patience hadn’t been running so fucking thin, I probably would’ve left it at that. But after the hell he’d put me through for the last six months, I feel like he deserved to squirm a little.
“Fucking answer me.”
“Y-You were, um… r-riding me. And you s-slapped m-me.”
Oh.
This just got a lot more interesting.
I raise an eyebrow at him and I can see the way his Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he gulps.
“So, you liked what you saw today, did you?”
Spencer nods so fervently that I have to bite down on my tongue to suppress a laugh.
“Words, baby. Use them.”
“I-I liked it. A lot.”
“Apparently so, seeing as you were moaning for it like a desperate little slut,” I breeze, my tone cool and indifferent. “Have you done this before, Doctor? Touched yourself to the thought of me, that is.”
“… Y-Yes. I’m s-sorry. I didn’t m-mean to. It just kind of happened one night, and once I started, I couldn’t s-stop.”
I reach out a hand and brush away the hair that had fallen into his face, tucking it back behind his ear before continuing.
“Why the cold shoulder, then? And here I thought you hated me,” I muse, before pausing and cocking my head to the side. “Do you hate me, Doctor?” I ask, and just when I thought he couldn’t look more guilty, he proves me wrong.
“No! I just… couldn’t be around you. I felt so b-bad. You were so nice, and I was using you to g-get off,” Spencer explains. “I couldn’t look you in the eye. Not after picturing you… like that.”
I let out a sigh. Knowing that Spencer didn’t actually hate me for the last six months was a relief. Knowing that Spencer was secretly rubbing one out to me was something else entirely. Whatever was I to do with this information?
“So, you want to fuck me, then?” I reiterate. “Why not tell me this sooner?”
“The probability of you responding positively to me telling you that I, uh, m-masturbate to you was very l-low. And after what I saw today, I think I was wise for keeping that from you,” Spencer says, the last part coming out in a rush. I can’t help but let out a low laugh.
“Yes, but the guy that was coming on to me today wasn’t someone I find attractive. He was pompous and crass and pushy - and you, Doctor Reid, are none of those things.”
“R-Really? You think I’m attractive?”
I hum.
“Very much so, Doctor. But I’m afraid you may have waited too long, and now I don’t feel as inclined to be nice,” I murmur, allowing my hand to trail down from his shoulder to his collar bones before lightly grazing his nipple with my thumb.
“O-Oh my… God,” Spencer whimpers, eyes fluttering shut as my fingers continue to dance across his skin.
“But then again, I don’t think you really want me to be nice to you. I think you want me to treat you like my little play thing.” I stop my hand just below his navel and I thumb across the light layer of hair that makes up his happy trail. “You want to be my dirty boy - don’t you, Doctor Reid?”
“P-Please,” Spencer chokes out, hips jerking up when I allow my thumb to graze a little lower.
“Please what?”
Spencer lets out a frustrated groan.
“Please, I-I want you to u-use me. However you want, just as l-long as you just do-don’t stop touching me,” he rambles. He’s shuddering underneath me, his breaths coming out in harsh pants as my hand wanders lower and lower until I abruptly pull away. “W-Why did you stop?”
“Because I don’t think you deserve to be touched just yet. You’ve got six months to make up to me, after all. I think I want you on your knees for me first,” I say, and from the way his eyes seem to dilate even further, I don’t think he has any objections. “Are you familiar with the color system?”
Spencer nods.
“Green for good, yellow means slow down, and red means stop now.”
“Do you have a safe word?”
“I… I’ve never really, uh. Done t-this.”
Oh. Oh.
I withdraw my hand from its place on his leg and Spencer lets out a distressed whine. “No, please! Don’t go. I’m not a complete virgin, I promise. I got a h-hand job once,” he argues. “And I think I’ve done enough, uh, research, and I really want to try to make you cum. I want to be good for you. Please let me try.”
Spencer looks like he’s about two seconds away from crying, and I can feel my argument dying before it even leaves my mouth.
“Oh, baby, I know you’d be so good,” I coo, and just like that Spencer’s leaning towards me, desperate to have the contact. I indulge him, placing my hand on his cheek, and he relaxes into the touch. “Are you sure you want to do this with me? I’m not what anyone would call vanilla, and I don’t think you know what you’re getting into.”
“I trust you. I wouldn’t want it to be anyone else,” Spencer whispers, and he sounds so damn sincere that I feel my resolve crumbling.
“You’ll let me know if at any point you want to stop?”
“Yes. Absolutely!”
Enthusiastic little shit.
“Safe word?”
“Um… Tolstoy?”
I let out a snort.
“Alright, smarty pants. We’re going to start now, okay?”
“Yes, Miss,” Spencer pants out.
Fuck me running. He clearly has been doing his research.
“Get on your knees for me, baby. I wanna see just how eager to please you are,” I instruct as I stand up and shimmy out of my shorts. I discard my shirt, too, absentmindedly throwing it somewhere across the room. Spencer lets out a startled squeak when he sees that I’m now completely naked, aside from my underwear.
“Y-You’re so pretty,” Spencer breathes out. “Even better than I imagined.”
The sentiment tugs at my heart, really, it does, but I specifically requested that he get on his knees and he seems a lot more content to just sit and stare.
“On your knees,” I command, and Spencer jumps up almost comically fast.
“S-Sorry, Miss,” he apologizes as he lowers himself down. I seat myself on the edge of the bed and spread my legs for him.
“Don’t apologize, just do as I ask of you, okay baby?”
Spencer nods.
“C-Can I kiss you? Like on the lips first?” Spencer asks as he looks up at me with big doe eyes. It’s a beautiful thing, the image of Spencer Reid sitting in between my legs, cheeks flushed and chest rapidly rising and falling. I give Spencer a sweet smile and lean forward, and the excitement radiating off of him is practically palpable. He leans forward, too eager to wait for me to close the gap, and the action makes my chest swell in adoration.
Just as our lips are about to meet, I pause, and Spencer barely has the time to look confused before my palm connects with the side of his face. The moan it draws out of him is obscene and his hips jolt forward, desperate for some kind of friction. His dick rests painfully hard between his legs, flushed red with precum beading at the tip.
I waste no time in taking his chin in my hand and tilting his head upwards.
“Did I say you could kiss me?” I ask him, voice sugary sweet, contrasting starkly with my actions.
“N-No, Miss. I’m sorry,” Spencer pants out. His hand twitches at his side and I can see how desperately he wants to touch himself, but his desire to please keeps him still.  
“Then the answer is no. Maybe if you can prove to me that you aren’t completely incompetent at eating pussy, I’ll consider it,” I allow a moment for my words to sink in. “Color?”
“Green. So fucking green,” Spencer whines.
“Good boy,” I praise him, and the effects of my words are instantaneous. Spencer rests his cheek against the skin of my thigh and then he’s nuzzling his face against me in a silent plea for permission. After a moment, his pleas become a lot less silent.
“Wanna be your good boy - please let me,” Spencer begs as his nose brushes against my skin. “I want to make you feel good. S’all I ever think about, since the first time I saw you.”
His words send a jolt of pleasure to my core and I reward his brazen honesty with a tender smile and a nod.
“Go ahead, baby. Let me see what that pretty mouth of yours can do.”
The words barely have time to leave my mouth before Spencer is reaching out and hooking a finger underneath the waistband of my panties. I raise up off the bed just enough for him to slide them down my legs, and before I even manage to settle back down onto the bed, Spencer literally dives in. He starts with one long lick, and by the time he reaches my clit he’s crying out lewd moans against me. The feel of the vibrations mixed with the feel of his mouth on me is maddening in the best possible way, and my eyelids threaten to flutter closed under the weight of my pleasure.
“Fuck, baby – you’re doing so good,” I sigh as I lift my hand up and card my fingers through his hair. “You look so pretty on your knees for me.”
Spencer’s movements stutter when he feels my hand tangle itself into his hair, and I let out a light chuckle. I grab hold of the roots and give an experimental tug. My actions cause his hips to jolt forward violently.
“O-Oh my…” Spencer keens, raising his glossy, lust filled eyes to mine. “H-Harder, please.”
I oblige, and Spencer lets out a particularly filthy groan before lapping at my pussy like a man possessed. His hands come to wrap around my thighs and he pulls me closer to him, causing me to let out a gasp when his nose nudges against my clit. The sound only spurs him on further – Spencer begins assaulting my clit, alternating between short, kitten licks and light sucking. The control I had so adamantly been asserting over him began to slip from my fingertips the longer he worked his mouth against me, and quiet, breathy moans started falling from my lips.
“Such a good boy, Spence,” I moan as I scratch my fingernails against his scalp. “You’re making me feel so good, baby. Love that dirty little mouth of yours.”
Spencer thrives on the praise – that much is made obvious by the way he whimpers and tightens his grip on my thighs. He’s completely submitted himself to the act of getting me off, only stopping long enough to cry out when my hands give a particularly harsh tug on his hair.
“Add a finger, baby,” I tell him, allowing my hand to drift down the side of his face, caressing the sharp angles of his cheekbones.
Spencer releases my thigh from his hold and tentatively raises a hand to my entrance, eyes raising to meet mine.
“You’ll tell me if I do something wrong?” he asks, and his concern is so endearing that I tilt his chin upwards and lean forward until my lips meet his.
Spencer gasps into the kiss, shocked, but it doesn’t take him long before his lips are moving against mine fervently. His lips are slick with my arousal, and I dart my tongue out just long enough to swipe it across his bottom lip.
           “D’you like how I taste, baby?” I murmur against his lips, pulling back slightly when Spencer tries to bring his lips down against mine.
           “S-So much,” he whispers, before letting out a frustrated groan when I tease him with the slightest brush of my lips before pulling away again. “P-Please, kiss me again.”
           I bump my nose against his before I reach down and grab his hand in mine.
           “Don’t be a greedy boy, Spencer. Greedy boys don’t get to cum,” I chastise him as I raise his hand up to my mouth. I trace my bottom lip with his pointer finger as Spencer watches on in rapt fascination, before taking the digit into my mouth and sucking. Spencer chokes out a pathetic cry and his hips hopelessly buck into the air as I swirl my tongue around the pad of his finger, taking special care to coat it with spit before releasing it from my mouth.
           I guide his hand back down to my pussy, gasping when the tip of his finger brushes across my entrance.
           “Just take it slow, baby. Start with one and move up to two once you get the hang of it.”
           Spencer nods, eyes alternating between my face and my entrance as he slowly slides his finger in me.
           “You’re so warm, oh my God,” Spencer breathes out, tentatively pulling out his finger before inserting it back in. I hum appreciatively as he begins to move faster, eyelids fluttering shut when he lowers his head and begins languidly licking my clit.
           “Feels so nice, Spence. I fucking love your fingers. Knew that they’d feel like this. I can only imagine how good your cock will feel,” I ramble, one hand fisted in the sheets and the other tugging on his honey brown hair.
           I groan as he inserts a second finger, reveling in the way he’s stretching me out.
           “Curl your fingers when you – fuck! Just like that, baby. Gonna make me cum if you keep doing t-that.”
Spencer speeds up both the onslaught of his fingers and his mouth at my admission, tongue working figure eights on my clit while his fingers brush up against my g-spot. A familiar warmth starts to spread in my lower belly, and with every swipe of Spencer’s tongue against my clit, the coil in my stomach winds tighter and tighter until, finally:
“O-Oh, fuck, Spence!”
The coil snaps, sending jolts of pleasure straight through my core. I can feel the way my walls tighten around Spencer’s fingers as my orgasm rips through me, never stopping their ministrations in an attempt to help me ride out my high. Vibrations ripple across my clit when Spencer lets out a cry of his own before his movements halt completely as shudders wrack his body.
I know he didn’t just…
           I allow myself a moment to recover before I lean forward and drag my eyes down Spencer’s slender frame – and sure enough, his tummy is covered in white ropes of cum and his now softening cock is hanging limply between his legs.
           Spencer’s eyes reluctantly open when his shudders cease, and one look at my pissy expression is enough to send him into a fit.
           “I-I didn’t mean to cum! I’m so sorry, Miss. It’s j-just that you looked so pretty when you came, and you taste so good! And you were pulling my hair, and you called me a good boy and I just couldn’t do it anymo-”
           “Shut up,” I seethe, voice cold and laced with annoyance. Spencer’s mouth snaps shut and he gulps. “Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t remember saying that you were allowed to come. Am I mistaken?”            “N-No, Miss.”
           “Mm, that’s what I thought,” I hum. “Stand up.”
           “B-But I want to make you cum again! Can I plea-”
           “Shut the fuck up and stand up, Spencer.”
           Spencer rushes to his feet, stumbling a bit when his legs begin to shake. He corrects himself, standing perfectly still in front of me with a shameful look on his face. I scoot back on the bed and fix him with a stony look.
           “I want you to lay on your stomach across my lap. Can you do that, Doctor Reid, or are you too stupid to follow simple directions?”
           Spencer adamantly shakes his head, scrambling to splay out across my bare thighs. Once he’s comfortable, I raise a palm to his bare ass cheek and smooth my hand across the skin.
           “Color?”
           “G-Green,” Spencer stutters out.
           “Wonderful. Since you’ve decided to be a greedy little slut and cum before I gave you permission, I’m going to punish you. Do you remember your safe word, baby?”
           “Tolstoy.”
           “Good boy. I’m going to give you ten, and I want you to count them out for me. One for every month you held out on me, and four because you’re an insolent little whore who can’t do as he’s told. Does that sound fair to you?”
           “Y-Yes, Miss. P-Please.”
           A harsh smack sounds throughout the room, and Spencer lets out a whorish moan that’s bound to wake the people in the neighboring rooms. The pale skin of his ass transforms to red, and I rub my palm across it soothingly.
           “O-One,” Spencer says through gritted teeth as he rocks his hips against my legs.
           “You okay, baby?”
           “Y-Yes, Miss. Please don’t stop. I deserve it. P-Punish me, please.”
           My palm comes down across his ass four more times, and with each strike I watch Spencer fall apart right before my eyes. Tears are gliding down his flushed cheeks, and his cock is now painfully hard against my legs.
           “Five more to go, baby. Keep counting for me, my pretty boy.”
           By the time my hand comes down against his flesh for the final time, Spencer has devolved into a mess of pathetic whimpers. His cock is smearing precum across my thighs as he rocks against me, and his ass is covered in a litany of bright red marks. Incomprehensible pleas are falling from his lips, and his hands are tightly fisted in the sheets.
           I lean forward and place a gentle kiss to each of his battered cheeks.
           “T-Thank you, Miss. Thank you, thank you, thank you…”
           “You’re welcome, baby. Can you go lay in the center of the bed for me?”
           Spencer gives a feeble nod and crawls to the center of the bed, carefully laying himself down and letting out a low hiss when his ass came in contact with the mattress.
           I let him rest against the sheets before I roll over and settle in between his legs.
           Spencer’s cock, painfully hard and leaking precum, sits against his belly. Spencer watches as I trace lithe fingers up his thigh, his chest rising and falling quickly as I get closer to where he demands my attention.
           A garbled groan rips from his throat when my hand grasps his cock, and I have to place my other hand on his hip and force him back down onto the bed when he tries to buck up.
           “Stay still, baby,” I tut as I drag my fist up and down at an agonizingly slow pace.
           “S-Sorry, M-Miss,” Spencer stutters. His brows are drawn together and his eyes are heavy lidded. “Need m-more, please.”
           “Mm, I don’t think you need more. You just want more. Dumb little greedy baby,” I tease as my thumb swipes across his head.
           “Oh… G-God, please!” Spencer mewls.
           “Is what I’m giving you not good enough?”
           “N-No, it’s just-”
           I raise an eyebrow at him and halt my movements.
           “No, it isn’t good enough?”
           Spencer lets out a frustrated groan and his fists clench the sheets.
           “P-Please, Miss! I’ll be your good boy, I promise. Just let me cum, please, I want it so bad!”
           Thoroughly pleased by his shameless begging, I start moving my hand again.
           “Let me know when you’re about to cum, baby.”
           That moment comes when, not thirty seconds later, the muscles in Spencer’s abdomen start to spasm – telltale signs of an impending orgasm. Spencer is so lost in the way my hand is moving against his cock that he makes no move to warn me, and just as I see his eyes start to flutter shut, I withdraw my hand.
           “W-Why did yo-”
           “You didn’t tell me you were about to cum. I thought you said you were going to be a good boy, Spencer? You sure aren’t acting like someone who wants to cum.”
           “S-Sorry, please, just… fuck!”
           Spencer’s whole-body folds in on itself when my mouth wraps around the head of his cock. I swirl my tongue around the tip, lapping up the precum that had gathered before I pull away.
           “You’ve got such a pretty cock, baby. Can’t believe nobody’s had you in their mouth yet,” I murmur, pausing to drag my tongue along the veiny underside of his erection. “Let me hear you, baby. Wanna know how much you like when I use my mouth on you.”
           “Love it so much, oh God… Feels so warm and wet. Thank you so much, Miss. God, it feels perfect,” Spencer keens as I take him into my mouth again. Mumbled praises fall from his lips as I take him deeper, and the second my nose hits the soft skin of his belly, Spencer’s hand comes up and begins to tap incessantly on my shoulder.
           “S-Stop! I-I’m close – Jesus Christ, I’m so fucking close and I really want to cum inside you, i-if that’s okay with you,” Spencer babbles, eyes wide and pleading. I smile up at him.
           “Do you think you deserve to cum in my pussy?”
           “H-Honestly, no, but I’m hoping you’ll let me anyways,” Spencer says, shooting me an adorably shy smile that has my heart doing somersaults in my chest. I let out a light laugh and shake my head, moving to straddle his lap.
           “Are you sure you want to do this, Spence?” I murmur as I caress the side of his face with my hands. “This can stop right here, if you want it to.”
           “Please, Miss. I want this. I want you,” Spencer reiterates, eyes shining and filled to the brim with adoration.
           “Want you, too, baby. You can call me my name now, if you want,” I say as I place a gentle kiss on his lips. I move to pull away, but Spencer’s hand is quick to grasp the back of my neck and pull me back in.
           While our lips move together, frenzied and desperate, I sneak a hand in between our bodies and grab Spencer’s cock. He gasps into my mouth as I drag his head in between my folds.
           “I-I won’t last long,” Spencer chokes out, eyes trained on where I’m rubbing him against me. “I’ll try my b-best, but I’m sorry if I c-cum too fast.”
           I sink down just enough that his head is the only thing inside me, watching as his face contorts beautifully as a result.
           “Don’t worry about me, baby. Tonight’s all about you.”
           With one last, chaste kiss to his lips, I slowly begin to lower myself down onto his length. The sound of our moans fill the room as Spencer clings desperately to me, hands finally finding purchase on my hips.
           “Y/N, fuck, you feel so good,” Spencer whimpers as I begin to slowly rock against him. “I-I knew it would feel good, but oh my God. I-I can’t… I’m gonna cum, soon. M’so sorry.”
           His admission prompts me to move faster, raising my hips until he’s almost completely out of me before I’m slamming back down.
           “Spence, you feel so good. Such a good boy – my good boy.”
           “Yes, yes, I’m all yours! Only yours, please!” Spencer whines. I lean forward, and the change of angle is enough for both of us to cry out.
           “Are you gonna be a good boy and cum for me, Spence?” I murmur into his ear, biting lightly against his earlobe. “I want you to cum in me, baby. Don’t you want to be my good boy?” I punctuate my words by lightly wrapping my hand around this throat and squeezing, and that’s all it takes for Spencer to completely fall apart underneath me. 
           “Y/N - fuck!”
           Spencer’s grip on my hips tightens as he bucks up into me, painting the inside of my pussy with his cum as he yells out strangled exclamations of my name. He presses his face into my shoulder as I ride him through his orgasm, whispering quiet thank yous and pressing open mouthed kisses to my skin as the euphoria floods through his body.
             I place a kiss to his forehead before I crawl off of him, having every intention of getting up and procuring a wet washrag. But Spencer reaches out to grip my arm, and his eyes look so sad that I stop in my tracks.
           “C-Can you stay? Please?”
           The insecurity in his voice tugs at my heart.
           “Of course, I’m staying. Was just gonna get a wet washrag for us. M’not gonna leave you, Spence,” I murmur. Spencer visibly untenses, but his grip on my arm doesn’t lessen.
           “Could you just stay here a little bit longer?”
           “Sure thing, baby,” I say, prompting Spencer’s lips to pull up into a pleased smile. I crawl back into the bed and lay on my back, and Spencer instantly plasters himself to my side. He hums contentedly as he wraps his arms around me, and I let out a light laugh when I catch him stealing glances at me.
           “What is it, baby?”
           A rosy blush spreads across his cheeks.
           “Can I kiss you?”
           After everything we just did, he still feels the need to ask permission to kiss me. What a sweet boy.
           My answer comes in the form of me pressing my lips to his, and that’s how we stay until he pulls away.
           “I have another question,” he says shyly.
           “Lay it on me, baby.”
           The blush on his cheeks gets significantly more pronounced.
           “It’s just that, uh, you didn’t get to cum again. And I really want you to, because you took such good care of me,” Spencer pauses, and his fingertips lightly graze the inside of my thigh. “C-Could I please eat you out again?” Another pause, and he retracts his hand. “I-It’s okay if not. I understand if you just wanted this to be… a one-time thing. I guess I was just kind of hoping that it w-wouldn’t be. But that’s silly – you were just doing me a favor. I’m sorry I asked.”
           Spencer cringes as he finishes speaking, not even giving me a chance to reply before he’s trying to pull away. I tighten my grip on his arm, and Spencer gives me a weary look.
           “First of all, I don’t think I would ever say no to being eaten out – especially if you’re the one offering. Second, this is definitely not a one off. I have lots of plans for you, pretty boy,” I explain, and the relief that radiates off of Spencer is almost palpable.
           “Thank God,” he sighs, and then he’s scooting down the bed and settling in between my legs.
--
           And if the rest of the team notices the way Spencer starts following me around like a lost puppy - well, they’re all kind enough not to point it out.
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louweasleymalfoy · 3 years
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Masterlist
•••
I still remember the third of December, me in your sweater
You said it looked better on me than it did you
Only if you knew how much I liked you
“Why is it so cold outside?” I whined as I pulled my knees to my chest, making Draco laugh.
"It’s winter Y/N/N" He playfully rolled his eyes as he pointed out the obvious "You should have known it was going to be cold"
I hummed in response and he looked at me through knitted eyebrows.
"Hold on" Draco ran to who knows where, leaving me behind.
The both of us were in the courtyard and not bringing a sweater was probably the dumbest idea I had.
Not even a minute has passed and Draco was back with a piece of clothing in his hands and he tossed it towards my direction.
"Here, wear my sweater you dummy"
I caught it, and gave him a smile of thanks.
"My hero" I dramatically said, placing a hand on my chest, as Draco ruffled my hair. "Can't have my dumb best friend freeze to death" I ignored his comment and decided to put it on.
As I pulled the sweater on, I was overwhelmed with the scent of green apples. It was comforting and I couldn’t help but feel instantly at peace.
"How do I look?" I asked him with a hopeful smile and he returned it with his own warm smile.
“You look better than me in it” He remarked and winked in my direction, making my heart melt and have butterflies erupt in my stomach. My words stuck in my throat.
I hated how Draco could make me so flustered like this. But unfortunately, he didn’t notice.
“Look!” I exclaimed, gesturing at the snowflake I caught in my hands.
“It’s beautiful,” I muttered, looking at the snowflake in awe. Unbeknownst to me, he was staring at me. “Yeah, it is,” Draco said
But I watch your eyes as she
Walks by
What a sight for sore eyes
Brighter than the blue sky
She's got you mesmerised while I die
Slytherin hosts the BEST parties, that is a fact. The party was in full swing at the common room as the students mingled with each other. I was standing by the table with Draco as we joked around, watching our friends get drunk.
"Fck you" I said as Draco made a snide comment about something I said.
"Maybe later" He said, giving me a flirty wink and I had to pretend that I didn't hear him, feeling myself blush. Whenever Draco got a couple of drinks in him, he would get in a flirtatious mood with me. I both loved it and hated it. When he was sober, he would never say something like that.
"You know I—" I stopped myself mid sentence when I noticed that Draco's focus was across the room. I followed his line of sight and saw the source of the distraction.
Heather
The girl waved in Draco's direction, making her way over as he didn’t take his eyes off of her.
All I could do was leave. I couldn’t stay there while he flirted with her. It would kill me.
Why would you ever kiss me?
I'm not even half as pretty
You gave her your sweater, it's just polyester
But you like her better
Wish I were Heather
I sat near the black lake with an empty bottle of fire whiskey in my hand. I wished I had another drink in my hand, but that would require me getting up from my spot.
Instead I closed his eyes and thought of everything and nothing. I feel someone sitting next to me and yet I made no effort to move, my eyes still shut.
"The stars look beautiful tonight don't you think?” A familiar voice said and I simply hummed in agreement.
"I feel like I don’t get nights like this as much as I want. When was the last time we went out to see the stars?" He continued and I opened my eyes.
"Draco, why are you here?" I asked him with furrowed brows "What? Am I not allowed to hang out with you anymore?" He playfully said with a grin and I rolled my eyes as he started to talk about random things.
"Theo is definitely not handling the break up well" Draco informed as we talked about our friend Theo who got his heart broken by a girl.
"Well trust me, dating is not fun" I said grumpily. He put his hand on my knee, making ne freeze up. "You know what Y/N? I can’t remember the last time you kissed someone"
"W-what?" I turned my head to look at him. "Oh come on, when was the last time you hung out with a guy that isn't me, Blaise, and Theo? When was the last time you kissed someone?"
"That's not true! I hang out with um..other guys?" I defended and yet I sounded unsure, looking away from him. "Oh yeah? Give me a guy's name that you've actually made out with"
There was a long silence to follow, before Draco said ever so casually "Well, you can kiss me if you want to? I don't mind" He offered
My head swiveled to face my friend, my mouth slightly agape in surprise. Draco laughed.
"Come on, I just want you to remember what it feels like. It’s just some fun between friends" He sat up, leaning towards me. "Yeah?" He asked.
I settled with a nod before Draco was inches from me. It felt like one of my craziest dreams as my eyes fluttered shut and I felt Draco's lips on mine.
It lasted no longer than ten seconds, but I could remember every detail. How his lips felt, how he exerted little pressure, and how it was over way before I wanted it to be. Draco pulled away so suddenly, his hand going up to his head.
"Woah. I think my head hurts. I better go to sleep. Goodnight Y/N" He got up from his spot and went inside.
I mumbled an agreement, wondering if I had just imagined the kiss.
Weeks later and I was still replaying those few minutes in my head.
Watch as she stands with her, holding your hand
Put your arm 'round her shoulder, now I'm getting colder
But how could I hate her, she's such an angel
But then again, kinda wish she were dead
I turned to watch them as the pair walked along the hallways. Her hand was nestled into his, he was swinging it ever so slightly. She pointed to something in the distance and they stopped to look. She said something to make him laugh, and he slung his arm around her shoulder. I felt like I was going to throw up.
"You are just going to get more depressed the more you stare at them ya know?" I jumped a little at the sound of Pansy's voice as she gave me a sad smile. I turned to look at Draco. His cheeks were pink as he stumbled for words with Heather beside him, wearing his sweater.
"I wasn’t- I was just-"
"It’s okay Y/N/N, I know that you love him" I exhaled. "Is it really that obvious?"
She shrugged her shoulders. "Probably not. I’m just observant. He should just admit that he likes you I’m sorry that he's with that btch."
“She’s not a btch” I said weakly, but couldn’t stop a sad smile form "I bet she's nice. I mean Draco likes her, not me. He'll probably only see me as a friend" I said as I feel my heart ache.
"So? You like her for Draco then?" Pansy asked
I looked back over to the pair where they were growing smaller in the distance.
"Is it bad I kinda wish she didn’t exist?"
"Not really" Pansy replied, placing a hand on my shoulder "We’ve all been there"
"I feel so stupid. Having feelings for my best friend" I muttered
She reached over to take my hands. "You can’t help who you fall in love with Y/N/N. I’m really sorry that you are in this situation. I could've sworn you two would end up with each other, turns out Draco is just blind to see that"
"He never loved me that way Pansy, I don't know what you're talking about, but still thank you for understanding.
I was embarrassed, but I felt tears threatening to fall from my eyes. It was nice to share my struggle with someone else.
"I think I’m going to sleep in our dorm" I said, letting go of her hands, and she gave me a nod. Before I left, she pulled me into an embrace, engulfing me in her arms.
"It’ll be okay Y/N/N, I promise you"
I thanked her and left, thinking of a certain blonde haired boy with grey eyes. I slammed the door shut and walked over to my closet.
I searched for something to wear and saw his sweater. I let my fingers run through the fabric and decided to wear it. I immediately crawled into bed and pulled the covers over me.
I closed my eyes as I cried myself to sleep. Of all the people my heart could have chosen, it decided on a boy who only saw me as a friend and nothing more. All I could do now was imagine what would've happened if he loved me back.
I wish I was Heather
•••
Part 2
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Making Bets | Seo-Joon [True Beauty] x Gender Neutral!Reader
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summary: making bets with your boyfriend Seo-Joon was NEVER a good idea, but when a no kiss bet with a promise of a week of dates comes up, how could you refuse?
word count: 2280
a/n: sorry i’ve been so absent! it’s been really hard to finish writing anything i’ve started recently but i’ve got something in the works i hope you all enjoy! :D <3
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Making bets with Han Seo-joon was never a good idea. But, when the prize was a full week where the winner gets to choose a week of dates… how could I say no.
“y/n I don’t get why you said yes to this bet, we all know you can’t even last through first period without a kiss from Seo-joon.” Soo-a said as she cuddled further into Tae-hoon’ side on the bench across the lunch table, “yah, we all know you guys are all over each other whenever possible,” Tae-hoon groaned out leaning his head on Soo-a’, “speak of the devil.” looking up from shuffling food around my tray I saw Seo-joon approaching the table trailing just behind Ju-kyung and Soo-ho’s linked arm forms looking a little more than disgruntled at the couple walking in front of him.
“Hello love birds, how nice of you to grace us with your presence on this fine monday morning.” Tae-hoon teased as the other couple sat next to me, Seo-joon taking the last spot to the right of Soo-a, across from me.
“What Seo-joon, not going to kiss your partner hello?” Soo-ho joked as he kissed Ju-Kyung’ cheek before picking food up from his plate and feeding her.
“Morning.” Seo-joon whispered, barely sparing me a glance before looking back at his tray. “Morning babe.” I whispered back.
“So y/n...I heard you and Seo-joon made a bet over the weekend. What’s up with that?” Ju-Kyung asked pushing her hair over her shoulder and turning my way, “oh,” clearing my throat, “Well, Seo-joon's friends were complaining over the weekend about how much we kiss each other in front of them, so we decided to make a bet on how long we could go without kissing each other, and whoever caves in first loses. But, the winner gets to decide a full week of dates the loser has to pay for.” I stated.
“OOO! That sounds fun! We both know you guys though, and we know you both wont last 3 days!” Soo-a joked, causing the rest of the table to laugh, “what plans do you have to win?” she continued.
“Well, I’m not sure to be honest,” I chuckled running a stressed hand through my hair, “I think I’m just going to try and focus on something else other than kissing him, even though that’s going to be hard.” I said laughing a little, sticking my tongue out at Seo-joon just to tease him.
“Well if you need any help y/n just let us know, Ju-kyung and I would be happy to help!” Soo-a said, as everyone returned to their lunches.
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“y/n it’s been 2 days and you’re already starting to annoy us with all your whining about missing your ‘sweet precious Seo-joon’” Soo-jin joked, making a silly whiny voice at the end causing the other girls around the table with us to laugh at her terrible impression of me.
“Ya Soo-ho has been telling me about how annoying Seon-joon has been about this whole bet thing and he’s just about ready to kill him.” Ju-kyung laughed.
Sighing I took a sip of my milkshake, “I know, we’re so annoying but I don’t know what to do, I really miss him, but I don’t want to have to pay for all the dates we’d be going on.”
“Well why don’t you try to seduce him?” Soo-jin started, “I mean you’re closing at your work tomorrow right? Why don’t you invite him over for a late night swim after you close? I mean your boss shouldn’t mind if you don’t tell them right?”
“That’s,,,that’s not a bad idea Soo-jin.”
“Ya! And you can ask him tomorrow at school in front of all his friends! He’d be crazy to say no in front of them! especially to a makeout session in a pool!” Ju-Kyung reasoned, Soo-a shaking her head in agreement at our master plan.
“Alright then! Tomorrow at school.” I stated, taking the last sip of my milkshake.
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“Hey baby.” I said walking right up to Seo-joon in the hallway, effectively stopping Seo-joon and his posse in their tracks.
“Oh, uhh, hey honey, how’s it going?” Seo-joon said, startled by my sudden appearance in front of him.
“Hey y/n!” one of Seo-joons friends said cheerfully. Paying his friend no mind I started to lean in closer to Seo-joon, causing him to lean his head back to avoid mine.
“So listen, I was thinking about going swimming at my work later? My boss is letting me close alone tonight since I’ve got the late shift?” I said leaning in closer with each sentence. Looking into Seo-joon's widened eyes at my statement.
Hearing his friends muffled laughing from behind him, he cleared his throat composing himself, “thanks for the offer baby but uh- i'm busy tonight.” he said hurriedly, before pushing past me and making his way into the classroom behind us, sitting at his desk hiding his flushed face and trying to ignore his friends teasing.
Looking over to Soo-a and Ju-Kyung I shook my head. Soo-a's expression turned to one of disappointment and Ju-Kyung letting out a hufft that our plan hadn’t worked.
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“Soo-aaaaaa, our plan didn’t wooorrrrkk.” I whined, placing my head on my hand and leaning against the lunch table, “I don’t know what I'm supposed to do anymore, it’s been 6 days and I miss him.”
“y/n dude we know you miss him but you gotta stop talking about how much you miss him, it’s all you’ve been talking about since this whole bet started.” Tae-hoon complained.
“Listen, it’s not my fault that he’s so perfect and that every time I see him I just wanna kiss his perfect lips.” I whined my head slipping down my arm as I stared at Seo-joon from across the lunch room.
“Well if I were you and I wanted to avoid kissing my boyfriend I would just ignore him until he gives in.” Ju-kyung said between mouthfuls of rice and meat off of her lunch tray, “thanks babe.” Soo-ho said sarcastically as he looked at Ju-kyung blank faced, “no problem honey, only telling you the truth.” She joked before giving him a quick kiss on the lips, which he gladly accepted.
“I hate you guys and your cute-and-able-to-kiss-each-other, relationships.” I sighed, “well I guess ignoring him until he gives in isn’t such a bad idea.”
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“Hey baby.” Seo-joon whispered as he placed his arm above me on the wall leaning in. “h-hey Seo-joon, how-how’s your day been?” I stuttered out trying to look him in the eyes, “My day’s better now that I've seen you.” He stated, gently lifting my face to properly look him in the eyes. “Listen honey, I have to get going to class but how about after school I take you to that book store you’ve been begging me to take you to”,
“Y-yeah, that would be nice thanks.”
“Good.” He leaned in to kiss me, feeling his warm breath fan across my face, causing me to flush. Closing my eyes I waited for the final push of his lips against mine, but instead felt the cold take the place of his warm breath as he suddenly pulled away his light laughter mixing with the small snickers of his friends watching the interaction, “see ya later baby.” he stated walking off down the hallway, his friends chasing after him, congratulation him on the little stunt he pulled on me. Seeing Ju-kyung, Soo-a and Soo-jin shaking their heads out of the corner of my eye, Soo-jin tutted “using your own tactic against you, that’s evil. but, man, you’ve got it bad for that boy. Good luck paying for all those dates.”
“I’m gonna have to try a lot harder to ignore him if he’s going to keep pulling stunts like that.” I sighed.
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It’s been 8 days since the bet had started, and it hadn’t gotten any easier to not kiss him. We’ve been effectively avoiding each other, this afternoon at school being the first time we’ve spoken since last thursday.
“Thanks for paying my bus fee. You didn’t have to do that” I thanked Seo-joon awkwardly as we took a seat at the very back of the bus.
“Of course, you’re my partner, you think I'd make you pay your own bus fee?” he laughed lightly, reaching out for my hand. Quickly yanking my hand away from his grasp I cleared my throat fixing my uniform shirt, looking away before I could get drawn back in by him.
“How was your day? You know besides great because now you’re seeing me.” he joked trying to drag my gaze away from the window to my left, “it was fine thanks, boring but you know how it is, stressed for the test on friday though.” I tried to joke, switching my gaze from the window to my fingers, playing with the hem of my dressshirt.
Sitting in awkward silence for the rest of the bus ride, we finally arrived at the small corner bookstore Ju-kyung recommended I check out.
“You know I could have just driven us here on my motorcycle right?”
“Well yeah but you know how I feel about your motorcycle, you’re gonna get killed on that think Seo-joon.” I joked, knocking his shoulder lightly, trying to lighten the mood from the tense bus right here. “Here let me get that for you.” Seo-joon said softly as he grabbed the door handle pulling it open for me to enter the warmth of the small store.
“Ah welcome!” the man at the front desk said as he pulled his headphones up from his neck to cover his ears, “FEEL FREE TO LOOK AROUND.” he yelled over the blasting rock music coming from his headphones.
Seo-joon and I quickly thanked him before walking further into the winding stacks of manga, making sure to be well out of earshot before bursting into fits of giggles over the yelling of the man at the front desk, calming down slightly before hearing him knock over a drink and letting out a few loud curses, throwing us back into our fits of giggles, leaning in Seo-joon's warmth trying to calm down.
Pulling away from him I cleared my throat before making my way further into the store fixing my uniform sweater to try and calm my warming face. Hearing Seo-joon clear his own throat before following a few steps behind me.
Running my fingers softly over the spines of manga looking for a title that grabbed me, I scanned the bookshelf spotting a title I recognized. “Seo-joon look!” I spoke excitedly pointing to the book I recognized on the top shelf, “My sister and I used to read them when we were younger, we would fight over our single copy for hours trying to read it before the other was able to.” I laughed lightly at the memory, not noticing Seo-joon's soft gaze watching me ramble about my childhood. Reaching up to try and grab the book I switched to standing on my tiptoes stretching my arm up as far as possible mumbling to myself, cursing my parents for making me so short. Just as I felt my finger tips brush the cracked spine of the manga a large hand came out of my right field vision grabbing the book off the shelf for me. “Ah thank you baby.” I thanked Seo-joon turning to him, reaching out for the book he still held in his much larger hands, however being slightly startled at how close he was actually standing to me.
Standing still for a few moments just looking at each other I broke the silence, “thanks for grabbing that for me. Could I please have the book now?” my voice coming out in barely a whisper. Not getting any sort of response from Seo-joon I asked him, “Seo-joon? What’s wrong ba-” not being able to get through the full sentence before feeling the breath knocked out of me as Seo-joon pressed his lips against mine, effectively ending the bet in one, beautiful, breathtaking, sweet kiss.
Pulling back after a few moments to catch out breath I looked up at him, eyes slightly closed still relishing in the feeling of the kiss we shared, a soft warm light coming from the shop's eclectic lighting fixtures, haloing him making him look more ethereal than I have ever seen him. “Sorry I didn’t ask you if I could kiss you, but I just saw you rambling about the book you were passionate about, and you look so cute with your hair falling in front of your face like it is,” he whispered lovingly pushing a strand of hair out of my sight, “and I just realized. I love you.” he stated, taking a deep breath in waiting for my reaction to his first confession.
Looking at me worriedly waiting for my reaction. “I love you too Seo-joon” I whispered, standing on my tiptoes, burying my face in his neck embarrassed at the first proper confession of our love for each other. Feeling Seo-joon smile into my neck he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer into his warm body, standing back, flat on my feet he buried me further into his chest, the both of us relishing in the warmth the others love provided.
“You know, I think our first date this week should be the movies tomorrow.” I started to laugh, feeling his chest rumble beneath my head he sighed lightly,
“You’re going to drain my bank account dry this week with these dates aren’t you?”
“Hahaha! Maybe I am. It’s only because I love you though.”
“I love you too”
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gyllenhaalstories · 3 years
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CHAMPAGNE PROBLEMS — SUGAR DADDY!ZEMO
summary: a series of unfortunate (or fortunate, depending whose side you’re on) events brought you to mandripoor seven years ago. it was fun, dangerous and exciting for the most part. a lot has changed, but you are back in high town in the hope of purchasing a rare monet painting, and reuniting with an old flame.
warnings: tfatws spoilers, alcohol, established sugar daddy x sugar baby relationship, smut (daddy kink, dom/sub/switch dynamics, choking, hair pulling, blowjob, fingering, both degradation and praise kinks, spit kink, cum play, marking, unprotected sex). 18+ MINORS DON’T INTERACT.
word count: 2685
gif credit: pedropcl
notes: this (very long) fic is brought to you by zemo’s #1 hoe. for the sake of the fic, zemo’s daughter and wife have never existed. i get it zemo is the bad guy daniel is not your typical hottie but let me live my fantasy and reclaim my crown as the original zemo fan. listen to off to the races by lana del rey and let no man steal your thyme by the pentangle if you want to fibe with me! i hope you guys will enjoy it!!! <3
“If you keep staring at me like this, I’ll mistake you for the Mona Lisa.” You took the last sip from your glass, which was immediately filled by the man standing behind you. You had felt his familiar presence a long time ago, but you were too mesmerized by the rare painting trapped in a cage of glass to bother notifying him. “Your glance has followed me around the room. In other circumstances, I’d find it creepy. Now, it’s just very flattering.”
You heard him laugh through his nose. You saw his reflecting in the glass, lit up by flashing blue and pink lights and vibrating ever so slightly to the sound of the loud music.
“You’re like a Monet painting. From afar, you are clear as cristal and easy to read like an open book. From up close...” You marked a pause and stoodby straight. Your eyes never leaving the work of art you had been scrutinizing for the past hour. Water Lilies in Bloom, it was called, an incorrect translation that always brought a grin to your lips. “You are a mystery.” You swallowed thickly the bubbly liquid, recognizing the peculiar taste of champagne.
“It is arrogant but right to think of myself as the pure definition of mysterious.”
You chuckled, throwing your head back in disbelief. Some things never changed.
“After all these years... I managed to find my way back to you. Now that’s a mystery.”
You turned on your heels as you spoke. “Is it, though? Tell me, Daddy. Is it really that hard to believe you’d recognize your property even after all these years. I heard they put you in a pretty little cage. Didn’t have much else to think about than what you missed most?”
He took you in, just how ethereal you looked under the colourful neon lights. You had your arms pressed against your chest, the shiny material of your matching bracelet and necklace twinkled. He squinted slightly, his lips curled into a smirk while he looked down your body, the one thing that kept him sane after all these years in jail (that and the thought of destroying symbols like super soldiers and make the world a better place once and for all). “Nice dress.”
“My Sugar Daddy got it for me.” You did a twirl, showing off your outfit innocently. “You like it?”
He reached up to his neck and pulled on the collar of his purple sweater, like it was a tie he could loosen up. “So you received everything I sent you.”
You clicked your tongue. “Not everything...” Your head turned to look behind you, where your most priced possession was glowing in its full glory — soon to-be yours, you should say.
“Use your words, Princess. Say it and it’s yours.”
It was your turn to analyze him, to take every ounce of cockiness and pride. “You’re playing with fire.” You walked closer to him, erasing the distance but increasing the tension between the two of you. “All the money in the world won’t get you everything you want.”
He was quick to move, his soldiers instincts never left his body, clearly. His delicate hand wrapped around your throat so effortlessly. It tightened, forcing you to manage your breathing. “Money got me everything I wanted already.”
“What is it, Daddy? What is it that you want so badly?” You clenched your jaw, holding his glance which was filled with lust, instead of rage and grudges.
“You never looked so beautiful.” He leaned closer too, whispering the words to your ear. It was liked the loud club music turned into white noise. He could not care less about the stares and the words strangers exchanged as they witnessed the scene. High Town was not his playground.
But you were his plaything.
*~*~*
History repeated itself, in one way or another. Icons rose and fell. Symbols mattered and vanished into oblivion. Originality turned into plagiarism. Winners would lose it all, losers would dig their graves deeper into the abyss.
History repeated itself. The sight before your eyes was the same one as seven years ago, when all that was on this man’s life before meeting you was this stupid Mission Report of December 16 1991. You met him at a party like this, in High Town before he was banned from the land. He caught your attention doing his ridiculous dance moves, sharing his knowledge about the art pieces showcased around the room. Then he brought you to a hotel, the ones so fancy they had multiple rooms and a vintage record player as part of the decor. Only, it worked, and he put on his favourite Édith Piaf records. Rien de Rien, Le Petit Homme, La Vie en Rose, song after song, you were diving deeper in your memories.. He was popping yet another bottle of champagne open and pouring some in flutes you would never touch for the rest of the night. The same night, seven years ago, it changed your life. At the second you regretted setting foot in Mandripoor, he changed your mind and gave you the best months of your life. You would ride around Europe in vintage cars, dine in gigantic mansions you called castles. You admired the old paintings of his royal family members while he brought you a silk bathrobe to change into after a steamy shower.
You’d get lost in your thoughts, he’d get lost in his ambitions. You two were one and the same, in one way or another. That affirmation sent shivers down your spine. You could not tell if it was a good or a bad thing, a shy voice in your head was reassuring you it was the former.
“They call me Baron again, I guess I’m not doing too bad after all.” His voice snapped you back to reality. He was still wearing that obnoxious trench coat. You hated it, it made him look like a pimp. Although that was not too far from the truth, as the mountain of luxurious jewelry and clothes in your closet proved.
“Do you like being back here?”
“I love it here.” The emphasis on the last word was audible. You nodded in agreement. This place was heaven on Earth for some people, hell for others. For both you and Zemo, it was somewhere in between.
“You’re certainly not here for me.” You laughed, setting the still full glass on the nightstand.
He shook his head, mouthing a negative response.
“What is it, this time? Mission report February 32?”
“Something like that.” He answered, after another silent laugh.
“If only you had made me your mission, your life would have been easier.”
“Yours would have been, too.”
You shrugged. You agreed, but you did not need to say it. He knew. The two of you knew that this warmth washing over your bodies was the answer to all of your problems. Yet, you were fighting the urge to surrender and give in.
History always repeated itself.
All it took was for him to set his hand on your exposed knee. You got flashbacks of the numerous times his hand rested there while you two drove deeper in the country side, in some old Chevrolet, Ford, or any other European brands he could find and buy.
“Say it, Princess. Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.”
You swallowed thickly and fell on your knees. He sat straight, as straight as he could on the comfortable mattress, and spread his legs wider. “I want to go back in time.”
He leaned foward and you opened your mouth, your tongue poking out. He spit in your mouth, and you swallowed. The giggle that followed your actions sent blood to his hardening cock. “Just as eager as I remembered, right? You’d do anything to please me.”
“I’d do anything for you, Daddy.” You repeated, the confession left you breathless.
“That’s my good girl.” He brushed your hair with so much tenderness for a moment, you let out a content moan. He changed the mood real quick when he pushed your head closer to his crotch and unbuckled his belt at lightning’s speed.
Your mouth was watering at the sight, a sight that was tattooed in your memory forever. Whatever relationship you two had went beyond fancy presents and sex, it was a connection that tickled your souls and left you a different woman than when it first started. You wasted no time, stroking him a few times as you spit on his blushing tip. You smeared the spit over his sensitive spot and pulled the sweetest moans out of him, which grew louder and more intense when you finally wrapped your lips around his head.
No one compared to you, to your attention to details, to the way you were taking him all in, inches by inches like you were made for his cock and his cock only. No one compared to how blissful you looked pulling back, choking on your own saliva and the lack of oxygen. “You look so beautiful, Babygirl.”
His praise made you bat your eyes, hoping to receive more compliments. You flattened your tongue, licking him from the base to the top before you deep throated his cock again. You never left him untouched, your hands were massaging his walls or exploring his thick thighs while your mouth almost brought him to the edge.
That was when he pulled on your hair and demanded you went back up on your feet. “I bet you’re soaked. All you need is to see a cock to wet your panties.” You nodded as one hand reached up to cup your face, the other to cup your core from under your dress. He could felt the ever growing wet patch. He discarded of your panties in one effortless pull and pressed his pointer and middle fingers against your sensitive clit. He circled it, studying your reaction.
“Daddy...” You breathed out. “I need you.”
“I’m proud of you for using your words,” his finger slipped inside of your entrance, you moaned out his name. “So greedy and needy and easy for me, like the good whore that you are. Is that right? You’re Daddy’s perfect little whore?”
He was two fingers in, all the way to the last knuckles. He pumped in and out of you slowly yet roughly. You smirked when he finally touched that spongy spot inside of you. “I’m Daddy’s. I’ll always belong to Daddy.”
“That’s right.”
He brushed his thumb over your clit, his fingers stopped fucking your hole to abuse the bundle of nerves until tears started to pool in your eyes.
“Be a good baby.” You looked at him with doe eyes, sucking his thumb between your plump lips. “Do what I want.”
And you reached your high. You had nothing to hold you up, except for your shaky legs that threatened to give in under your weight and the intensity of your orgasm. You sucked on his thumb harder, hoping to quiet some of your moans but your screams escaped your parted lips.
In a blink of an eye, you were pushed against the bed and bounced against the body that blocked your every movement. His pants were nowhere to be found, just like the rest of your respective clothes. Your finger tips brushed over the skin of his shaven cheeks, down to his neck and chest. The intimacy, you had craved it all these years.
“I bet that sweet cunt of yours missed my cock.” He spoke, chuckling mockingly when he pushed himself in your stretched hole. You both let out a long moan of satisfaction. He rested inside of you, adjusting to your warmth and tightness. “I was right.”
“You’re always right.” You flattered his ego, and earned a sloppy kiss in return.
His lips moved down to your neck where he sucked hickeys and left small bite marks as he picked up the pace of his hips.
You wrapped your legs around his waist, hoping to bring him that much closer, and deeper, into you.
Zemo pinned your wrists above your head and pumped his cock inside of your tight pussy like his life depended on it. “So fucking wet for me,  gonna make me cum, Baby.” He had tried so hard to hold back, not to mark you and claim you again.
“Wait for me.” You begged him, and he brought one hand down to your neck again. He squeezed it, choking you deliciously until your eyes rolled inwards. He tightened his grip ever so slightly and he felt it, he felt the way your walls fluttered around him.
He thrusted inside of you, his hips snapped against yours and the sound of your skin slapping echoed in the bedroom. “Cum for me, Princess. Cum with Daddy.”
And you did, your body exploded in fireworks when you felt his release planted inside of you. He kept moving, rocking back and forth. He leaned back, leaving your neck to rub your clit once again. He was a moaning mess, the overstimulation made it almost painful to keep going but he did not want it to stop, not until...
“Fuck, Daddy!” And a second wave of pleasure hit you hard, it left you panting and shaking even more than before.
Zemo had to pull away quickly, and already missed the feeling of being inside of you.
Your fingers reached between your bodies, dipping into your folds and moving up to your lips as they were covered in his seed. You painted your lips with his white cum, before you licked them and your fingers clean as he watched, completely amazed and mesmerized. “Taste just as good as I remembered.”
He laughed, he was always one step ahead of everything and everyone, but you always managed to take him by surprise. You were just that great, that perfect. He rolled to the side and fell heavily on the bed. His skin was glistening under the light of the chandeliers from the thin layer of sweat.
You pressed your legs together, clenching around nothing. You hoped you could keep his load inside of you, as a proof this had really happened and it was not just one of your daydreams where you two would be reunited.
“I missed this.” You boke the silence with a small voice. Your fingers brushed over the bruises on your neck, and you hissed at the sensitive skin.
He turned on his side, worried for a second that he went too hard on you. The smile and joy on your face proved him otherwise. “I missed you, Princess.”
“I missed you so much, Daddy.”
*~*~*
The sun hurt your eyes, he noticed. He slipped out of the bed to pull on the curtains only to hurry back to you so you could lay your head on his chest. You were still wearing your bracelet, he started playing with it.
His mind was racing, just like his heart. You could feel it rumble in his chest like a loud engine. Something was bothering him.
“Oh, Zemo...” You caressed his cheek, looking up to study his features. “You can fool the smartest people in the world, but you’ll never be able to lie to me.”
“I’m coming home, Baby. I’m coming home now.”
You looked down again, taking a moment to answer. “Let me guess, you’ll take me to a fancy house like Rebecca’s Manderley and Jane Eyre’s manor at the Rochester’s. You’ll show me around, make me feel like I belong. And you’ll leave, high and dry. Again. All the money and presents from your people won’t erase the pain I felt. Not this time, not ever.”
He pressed his thin lips together. Pain, suffering, he was used to it. He had his fair share of it, caused even more to other people. The thought of hurting you, however, was unbearable.
“Every kingdom needs its king...” He paused and moved you, so you were resting on your elbows and your face was closer to his. “And an even greater queen.”
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yourmcu · 3 years
Text
Body Pillow
 Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x reader
Summary:
Natasha finds you cuddling a body pillow. In your dream, it’s actually her you’re cuddling. It’s Christmas Eve too.
Word count: 1,600
A/n: I’m takin a long time to post but I’ll get em out soon! I hope! thanks for 200 followers btw :))
Warnings: fluff, sleep talking
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It’s not a surprise to anyone in the compound when they find you sprawled on your favorite sofa in the lounge. Of course you had a room, but you just love it so much that you’d rather sleep there most of the time. Especially after or before your favorite holidays.
Bidding Sam and Bucky good night as they're the last ones to turn in, you ask Friday to dim the lights and to turn on a Netflix show. If you’re ever wondering why no one stays with you for a movie night or something it’s because you’ve had too many already, and most of the time you don’t mind being alone anyway.
After two or three shows, you finally fall asleep.
Few hours later, Natasha walks across the lounge to get to the kitchen, not all that fazed when she sees a lump shaped like you on the sofa. Though she stops in her tracks when she hears a faint voice coming from your direction.
“Nat,”
She decides that she’s just hearing things, or you probably saw her come in then drifted back to sleep.
When she’s about to return to her room, you speak again.
“Nat,”
She decides to reply this time. “Yeah?”
You don’t respond back immediately. So just in case, she walks up to the sofa to see if something's wrong.
Your hands are wrapped around the side of the body pillow and it's slightly bigger than you. The whole blanket is wrapped around you as well, so Natasha could only imagine how comfortable you are in your sleep.
“You give the best hugs, Nat,” you murmur, still fully asleep, oblivious of the same redhead witnessing it in real life too.
Everyone knows you’ve developed a lil something for Natasha. Does she know? Yes... and no. She refuses to believe you like her that way. If you do, she wants to hear it from you, not from the testosterone of the team.
But seeing you so adorably vulnerable and cute, in a way, it makes her heart flutter.
“I do, huh?” Natasha chuckles from above you and leans down to kiss your hair. “Too bad you’re gonna have to get up soon.”
“Aww, no,” you whine, snuggling closer to the crook of her neck.
Natasha just stands there and tries to process it - you, her teammate and close friend, is dreaming about her. It’s normal, right? Even she has dreamt of the others, including a weird one where Tony and Bruce were riding unicorns-
She flinches when you make a movement, but you just make yourself more comfortable on the pillow, sighing contentedly.
Obviously she’s giving you a good time in your head. Natasha believes she could do better though. If you ever ask her to cuddle, she’d make sure. Am I really jealous of myself right now?
The opening and closing of bedroom doors shake her from her thoughts. She clears her throat and walks back to the kitchen to wait for Wanda so they could make breakfast together. It the day before Christmas, after all, everything has to be special today and the next day.
Wanda enters the kitchen moments later, still a bit groggy from her slumber but she’s in a mood to make a good breakfast. As the pair gets started, they hear a yelp that sounded like yours from the lounge.
“Ow! Tony!”
“Wakey wakey,” Tony teases, defending himself from your playful punches. “For gosh sake, you need to stop having sleepovers by yourself here - you sure you don’t want that sofa in your room?”
You grumble and walk out of the room to get dressed, taking your blanket and body pillow with you.
The lounge and kitchen starts to get occupied by the inhabitants of the compound. One of them being you, out of your pajamas and in a casual Christmas sweater. You greet them with the usual good mornings including Natasha.
“Good morning,” she drawls out. “Sleep well?”
She's curious on how you’d react. But of course you don’t think much of it, you don’t know that she knows what you dreamt about.
“Yeah, it was... nice,” you try to play it cool, avoiding her eyes to pour yourself a glass of eggnog. I mean, look who’s asking. And the fact that she was just about to kiss you in the dream before Tony so rudely interrupted-
“Bet it was,” Natasha smirks after Steve grabs your attention to point out your favorite comic strip on the newspaper, thinking you didn’t hear her.
You chuckle at the Christmas-themed edition of the comic but your gaze returns to Natasha not long after because you did hear her. Maybe she was just being Nat but yeah, the dream was nice. Too nice to be real. You sigh and sip on your drink, getting lost in your own world as Tony loudly rambles about a party to the group.
It was just you and her, so many blankets, watching movies. You don’t know or remember what film specifically, everything was a blur except the way she held you.
As a kid you never got that much affection physically, so every hug from your friends means a lot to you. Well, especially the ones from Natasha.
You couldn’t bring yourself to admit how you feel for her. The men constantly tell you to do it, that it wouldn’t hurt to try, but you’d rather have a close and friendly relationship with Natasha rather than an awkward one just because she didn’t feel the same about you.
The thing is, you don’t know if she shares those kinds of feelings. That’s what Bruce was nagging to you about. ‘You won’t know until you try, until you tell her-
“Y/N, you with us?”
Your hand involuntary twitches as you snap back to the room. “Sorry, yeah. What’s up?”
“Well, instead of a usual party, we’re gonna have a movie night,” Tony says, stealing a piece of food from your plate. “Thoughts?”
You sent him a look but chuckle, “haven’t we already had enough of those?”
“But it’s Christmas!” Tony insists. “And we’re watching Die Hard.”
Steve frowns. “That doesn’t sound like a Christmas movie.”
-----
“Alright Cap, it may not sound like a Christmas movie to you but it’s one of the best.” Sam jokes and plays the movie once all of you have settled.
The theater room is dim and composed of two large sofas, one in front and one just behind it, and a table filled with food. You're one of those who occupied the second sofa behind along with Clint, Wanda, Vision and Natasha. The rest fought for a place up front, which took a while to be honest.
“Hey Nat,” you mutter, eyes not leaving the screen but you do see her from the corner of your eye claim the spot beside you, the one at the edge of the sofa. She gives you a warm smile and makes herself comfortable.
An hour into the movie only the men seated at the front are fascinated by the fighting scenes. Well except for Clint who's seated at the other end, pointing and asking Sam questions about the plot. Wanda and Vision are half asleep leaning on each other, you and Natasha are the only ones calmly watching, probably because you’ve both seen it many times.
You make a sound when Hans Gruber appears on screen again. “Did you know that’s the same guy who played Professor Snape?”
“What?” Natasha chuckles.
“From Harry Potter,” you reply, smiling to yourself. Then you turn to her, “have you watched any of those movies?”
“I’ve heard of it but, no.”
You tilt your head at her, slightly surprised. “You should watch them with me sometime. I prefer the original source material but the films are good on their own.”
You wish you could photograph the way Natasha smiles at you. She’s all smiles today. I wonder why. “I’d love that.”
A loud explosion echoes throughout the room along with yells that sounds like Tony’s and Clint’s, making you yelp and scoot closer to Natasha. She wraps an arm around you instinctively.
“Guys, turn the volume down,” she calls out. Silent chatter fills the room once it turns into a more calmer scene, and Tony told Friday to lower the volume. “You okay?” 
Her arm is still wrapped around you and you want nothing more than to hide yourself in the pillow you’re hugging out of embarrassment. “Yeah... m’good,” you manage to say while holding a yawn. Natasha tugs the blanket more snugly over both of you.
“You can sleep if you want,” she speaks softly. “I think they’re planning on watching all the Die Hard movies until dawn.”
“That’s crazy,” you breathe out. Your eyes are starting to droop and your yawns became frequent. 
You know that cozy feeling when the room’s cold and you have a warm blanket over you? That’s one of your favorite things (the other one being Natasha).
There are only four of you left on the back sofa since Clint moved to the front. At this point your head rests on Natasha’s chest while she plays with your hair, and one of your arms loosely wraps around her waist. You exhale, falling asleep entirely.
Natasha admires how adorable you slept on her. “I hope this is better than your dream,” she murmurs, gently planting a kiss on your forehead and getting drowsy herself.
You snuggle closer to her, as if it was to say, it is.
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