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mothandpidgeon · 2 days ago

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Nine Lives (witch's familiar!Ezra x witch!f!reader) - Part 5

Moth's Masterlist // follow @mothandpidgeon-updates and turn on notifications to stay updated with my fics!

SERIES MASTERLIST

pairing: witch's familiar!Ezra x witch!f!reader

rating: E MDNI

summary: As you came into your powers and your curves filled in, Ezra realized he feelings for you were more than just affection. The only problem? He's a 300 year old crused witch. Oh, and he's a cat.

contents: age gap (like 300 years), alcohol, yearning masturbation, vegan slander, moth never uses y/n.

wc: 6.2k

a/n: Today feels like a really rough day in the US so I wanted to share this new chapter. Hopefully it'll take your mind off things. I've had a really really hard time writing this chapter. Really glad I stuck with it and struggled through. Could not have done this without input and beta from @moonlitbirdie @schnarfer and @whocaresstillthelouvre. Thank you my little witches!

🐈‍⬛

With Margot’s reprieve, life with Ezra becomes the new normal. Weeks pass and he’s slotted into your day to day so easily. Grocery shopping, breakfast at the cafe down the street. He comes to work with you. Except now, instead of lounging on top of a dusty bookshelf, he helps man the cash register.

Despite your aunt’s insistence that she would not under any circumstances be involved with this “conspiracy” (her word), she had pointed you in the direction of a vieling spell that would keep Ezra’s transformation under wraps. You and he cast the ward around town hoping it might buy some time but you’ll have to come clean eventually.

“By Yuletide, you’d better come up with a proper appeal,” Aunt Margot said. “People will ask questions if you’re absent and I’m not going to lie.”

There’s still time and so you choose to enjoy this secret, this new chapter with Ezra.

You’re smiling to yourself as you climb the stairs to the second floor of the Page with a book in your hands. It’s an antique school primer someone just brought in for Margot to appraise. Nothing special except that the little darling that once owned it filled the margins with dirty limericks and pencil sketchings of cock and balls. Some things never change, no matter what century it is. Ezra will get a kick out of it. He probably knows a few lewd poems himself.

You hang back when you find him beside the front window. Soft morning light falls over the angular planes of his face. There’s a divot in the center of his throat just visible above the collar of his olive sweatshirt that always catches your eye. You still haven’t quite gotten used to the fact that your old pal Ezra is so damn handsome. Not that you’re attracted to him. He’s just attractive. You’ve reminded yourself of the distinction between that many times over the past few weeks.

But it’s not the cast of the sun that has you hesitating. Ezra’s talking to a customer, his crooked smile revealing the dimple in his cheek, with a tarot deck in his hands.

“And it was the exact image I’d seen when I took ayahuasca,” she says. “The four of cups.”

“Well, cards are certainly prophetic,” he says, his voice edging on a tease.

You know her— Zoe’s a regular. She moved into town after backpacking through South America, and waitresses at the diner. She comes in to buy crystals from time to time and she’s good for business. Ever since the diner got written up as one of the “hidden gems of the Catskills,” she sends more and more of her customers over to the Page.

She’s been stopping in even more recently, the shop’s newest doe-eyed employee obviously her motivation. Twice a week you find her in conversation with Ezra. In fact, she’s given up the pretense that she’s actually shopping for anything anymore.

“Have you ever had your aura photographed?” she asks.

“No. A picture of me is a rare thing, indeed,” he says.

Zoe’s the exact kind of mortal Ezra detests– always talking about “getting into wicca” as if magic is a hobby she can try on– but she’s beautiful. She has hazel eyes and razor sharp cheekbones. Her slim arms are tattooed with delicate talismen and her haircuts seamlessly straddle the border between chic and edgy.

“I know a place down in Woodstock where you can get it done. Next time I’m going, maybe you can tag along,” she offers.

There’s a sparkle in Ezra’s eye that makes your chest tight.

You retreat to the stairs before you hear his answer. The sensation building in you is a stab, a flare of something bitter and dark. You’re not sure why you’re jealous because you don’t have feelings for Ezra. Okay, maybe a little crush. But you’ve got that in check. You’re not going to fall for your best friend just because he woke up with the most handsome face you’ve ever seen.

And you’re definitely not intimidated by Zoe’s waif-like frame and heavily lidded eyes. Next to her, you look like an ogre. But why would you need to compare yourself to her? And why shouldn’t Ezra get to bang a goddess when he has a mouth that should be sculpted in marble?

You realize how ridiculous this train of thought is becoming so you shove it down as tightly as you can, actually shaking your head as though this insanity might tumble out of your ear.

“You okay?”

Zoe’s standing in front of you at the register, the tarot deck set on the counter between you.

“You’re buying something,” you say, though it’s more of a question than a statement.

“This deck has a really good vibe,” she tells you. “Ezra picked it out.”

Hearing her say his name, you’re like a cat with its hair standing on end.

“He’s got the same name as your cat. Isn’t that funny,” she notes.

“I see how you look at him,” you say. It’s not meant to come out as an accusation but there’s a bite to your words you weren’t expecting. You’re being ridiculous so you decide to prove to yourself once and for all that your feelings are strictly platonic. The faster you see Ezra with someone, the quicker this little crush will die.

Luckily, Zoe doesn’t notice it. “That obvious, huh?”

“You should take him for a drink. He’d like that,” you say. Something like relief comes over you. Obviously you’re not jealous. If you were, you wouldn’t have tried to set him up.

“You think so?” she asks, glancing back towards the stairs. “I tried to give him my number but he told me he doesn’t have a phone.”

You try to keep yourself from laughing at what a devastating rejection that would be if it weren't true.

“He actually doesn’t,” you say.

“Really?”

You shrug.

She nods. “That’s smart. The EMF really messes with your brainwaves.”

“Hm,” you say with a noncommittal nod. “Well, I’ll have him send you a letter or something.”

–

Ezra used to trot down the stairs of the bookstore. Now he has to duck to keep his head from smacking into the shelf that hangs over the doorframe.

It’s taken some time to get used to his body again but after these few weeks, he’s navigating the world with ease. Ezra hasn’t felt this happy in hundreds of years. He’s doing magic for the first time in a long time and he spends his days working in the bookstore. It’s oddly enjoyable even despite the fact that it’s dull and full of silly mortals. Best of all, there’s you.

He still can’t comprehend how lucky he is to be given this gift. To be yours. Even if he isn’t anymore, not beholden by the fetters of a familiar, he’ll never stop thinking of himself as belonging to you.

You’re smiling at him as he comes to the counter and he has to resist the urge to nuzzle his head into your shoulder as he used to greet you. If there’s one thing he misses about being a cat, it’s your scratching behind his ears.

“I got you a date with her,” you say.

“The vegan?” Ezra asks.

“Yeah,” you say with a laugh. “The vegan that you shamelessly flirt with.”

Ezra furrows his brow. He was once quite the charmer but he hasn’t intended to do anything more than amuse himself. Over and over, this woman batted her eyelashes at him and Ezra carefully demurred each time. She was pretty. Perhaps some time ago he would have liked to bed her but he has no designs on her now, not when he falls asleep swimming in the scent of your skin each night.

”You shouldn’t have done that,“ he says.

”Why not? She’s so into you,” you reply.

Ezra says nothing because his answer would give it all away. Instead he grabs a handful of bookmarks decorated with pressed flowers and busies himself putting them on a table on the other side of the room.

“You’ve been celibate for how long?” you go on, following behind.

“No need for reminders.”

“We need to get you laid!” you say so helpfully. ”Are you blushing?”

If Ezra’s red in the face, it’s only because he’s realizing what a fool he’s being. You’re ready to send him off to another while he’s madly in love with you. He shouldn’t be surprised. He couldn’t expect that you were going to suddenly leap into his arms with any of the enthusiasm Zoe’s shown him. Maybe he thought there was some chance, some faint hope that you could belong just as much to him.

But this makes your feelings so clear. You’re not interested. You’re ready to pawn him off on some ridiculous mortal.

”What’s wrong? She too young for you or something?” you tease.

Zoe is, no doubt, attractive and she’d made it clear that she’s ready to take him to bed, both facts that should have elated him. The problem was, she wasn’t you. And you were someone he’d never have.

“I can manage my own matchmaking,“ he grumbles. He moves on to a stack of books, straightening their spines though they’re hardly askew. Anything to keep himself from looking at you, being reminded that you’re off limits.

“Ez, she’s been throwing herself at you.“

”I suppose in my time I’ve learned to savor the hunt.“

“Oh please. You used to eat out of my hand. You should be thanking me,” you say.

Thanking you for pushing him into the arms of another. His despair calcifies into a rotten resentment. You don’t want him, you never will.

“I’d much prefer it if you didn’t involve yourself,” he says. It’s nearly impossible to keep the venom out of his voice.

You scoff. In the corner of his eye, you’re frowning. ”Okay. If I’d known you were going to be such a dick about it, I wouldn’t have bothered,” you say, and then you turn around shaking your head and walk away.

He watches you stomp into the next room, regret flooding him. He shouldn’t be so mean, not to you, but the damage has been done. There’s hardly time to think about it because Margot is breezing in from the back door with Percy riding high on her shoulder, the sound of her bracelets filling the store with their music. Ezra sets his features in as neutral an expression he can manage.

“Oh, Ezra, dear. Just who I was looking for,” she says. “Come here a minute.”

She sets a wide box that’s tied with a grosgrain ribbon on the counter.

“What’s this?” he asks.

“Open it.”

He looks from her to her familiar before he pulls the dark ribbon and lifts the lid. Inside is something he hasn’t seen in a dog’s age. The memories it brings back makes his lips tick up in an absent smile.

“Robes,” he says. “How did you—?”

“We found a description in Goody Cartwright’s diary in the basement,” Margot said. “Dusted off the old sewing machine.”

Percival scampers down her arm to climb into the box. He crawls beneath a sleeve and lifts the hem in his paws, standing on his hind legs.

“I hope they turned out,” Margot says.

“Mine were nearly identical,” Ezra says as he wistfully inspects the fabric.

He still remembers the feel of the homespun linen against his skin. His robes always smelled of woodsmoke from the moon revels. They had been stained with wine and goat’s milk, the bottom edge besotted with moss and rainwater.

“It was Percy’s idea,” she says.

The mouse ducks his head bashfully when Ezra looks up at him.

Ezra swallows down the lump in his throat. He’s moved, jaw gripped as he tries to stop from shedding tears. Another gift he’s not worthy of, compounded by the fact that he’s just upset you again. You were doing for him what you’ve always done– taking care of him, showing him that you loved him. If only he could accept it’s not the way he wants it.

He sets his hand out on the countertop.

“Percival,” he says.

After some hesitation, Percy steps into Ezra’s palm. Ezra brings the mouse up so that he sits at eye level.

“I deserve a much starker retribution from you, friend,” Ezra says. “I hope you’ll forgive my misdeeds.”

Percy cocks his head to the side.

“He says he’ll think about it,” Margot tells him.

Ezra grins. He offers a finger which Percy takes in his paw and they shake hands.

“You can wear them this weekend. Sunday’s your first full moon since you turned,” Margot says.

Ezra had forgotten all about the phases of the moon. How could he be expected to keep track of such things when there were so many new things to experience?

”We’ll celebrate,” Margot insists.

He wants to protest. Right now he doesn't feel much like frivolity, can’t imagine you’ll want to join in with any festivities when he’s been such a complete and total ass. But he knows he ought to learn his lesson and accept.

“I look forward to it,” he says.

Percy squeaks happily and Margot claps her hands together.

“Come on, Percy! There’s much to be done!” she says before disappearing into the back room.

The rest of the day is tense between you and Ezra, with few words exchanged. He’s lived with you long enough that it’s not your very first squabble but, in the past, it was much easier to stay out from underfoot. The apartment feels so much smaller now that he’s human, its walls crushing when there’s silence between you. It’s at its worst when you announce you’re going to bed. It feels cold, lacking an invitation, and so Ezra waits in the kitchen for a long while wondering if you want him beside you at all.

Some time after you’ve turned off the light, he slinks in nervously. He might as well be sneaking into the bed, though for all intents and purposes, it’s become just as much his as it is yours. He’s shared it with you from that very first night. Neither of you raised the notion of his sleeping elsewhere so it became a habit. He wonders now, more strongly than ever, if he’s overstayed his welcome.

You lay facing the window but he knows your breathing well enough to see you’re not yet sleeping. He lays on the cold sheets hating himself for loving you, for taking advantage of you, for disappointing you.

“I shouldn’t have accused you of meddling,” he says quietly.

Ezra has accepted the fact that he’ll have to take this mortal out despite having no interest in her. There’s no good reason not to, as you so aptly showed him, and if he doesn’t you’ll want to know why.

At some point in the late afternoon he decided that he would make the best of it. He would stop kidding himself and accept that you had no romantic feelings for him and try to keep an open mind with Zoe. At the very worst, he’d finally get a long overdue fuck. How could a man mope over that?

But seeing the slope of your shoulder in the moonlight, your eyelashes fluttering as you turn your face up to the ceiling, makes him realize just how impossible is the task that lies ahead of him.

You sigh and turn over, sheets rustling with your movement. There’s just enough light in the room to shine in your sweet eyes as you look at him and tuck a hand under your pillow.

“Ez, it’s okay. I know why you got upset,” you say.

His heart skips a beat. Of course you know. He’s been so obvious, how could you not see it? He swallows hard, unsure of what he’ll say when you call him out. It feels like an age passes as he waits for you to say the words.

“You haven’t been with anybody for a long time. If you’re not ready, I get it,” you say and you put a gentle hand over his.

A little laugh escapes him. How absurdly wrong he’d been. He sinks deeper into his self pity. How could he ever imagine a creature as kind and beautiful as you would want him? A reprobate, hundreds of years old. A fucking cat.

“Yes, well, I suppose if she’s as smitten as you believe I’ve nothing to worry about,” he says.

A smile cracks across your lips and your gaze melts over his face. You brush your palm across his cheek and Ezra can’t help but close his eyes and lean into the touch of your warm skin.

“How could she not be?” you say.

Your gaze lingers on him, your expression difficult to read. There’s nothing but the sound of your soft breaths and the whisper of dry leaves outside the window. His heart aches, wishing he could curl himself around you and say the words that live on the tip of his tongue. But the moment passes as you pull your hand back to your side of the mattress and the gulf between you feels wider than ever. He lays awake for what feels like hours wishing he was still a cat so he could sleep in your embrace.

You lay on the couch with a book spread open on your lap but you haven’t been able to read a single page. Ezra’s out with Zoe which is fine. Totally fine. You made it happen after all, even gave him some cash for drinks and coaching on the dating scene.

“I’m newly human but I wasn’t born yesterday. I’m well acquainted with the customs and mores of modern courtship,” he protested.

“Do you even hear yourself right now?” you asked.

For a moment, you almost fooled yourself into thinking he wasn’t interested in her. He’d been so prickly when you brought it up. There have been times when you wonder. You’ll catch him looking at you in a way that makes your heart flutter. Or his touch will remain just a moment longer than it needs to, days when you wake up and question if his morning wood is actually for you and not just a fact of human biology. But of course not. And that’s fine.

It’s been a while since you’ve had the apartment to yourself— certainly not in the weeks since Ezra became human— and you’ve had little down time. There’s always some new adventure to take him on. Not that you’re complaining. It’s been the most thrilling time of your life.

This whole date situation is good, actually, because you could really use a night alone. At least that’s what you’ve been telling yourself.

You poured yourself a glass of wine and lit some incense, cracked open the book. A good start. That’s about all you managed. You keep thinking about how it’s going with Ezra. What could they be talking about? Is he having fun? Maybe he’ll actually like her. Wouldn’t that be….something?

Things could never get romantic between the two of you anyway. You wouldn’t risk your friendship, so many years of trust and affection. It’s too precious to you. Besides, there must be something unethical about dating someone that’s been sworn to serve and protect you.

Not that you want to do that.

You snap the book shut and toss it on the coffee table, sitting up. You need to stop being weirdly obsessed with this date. Ezra is your friend, you remind yourself, and you’re excited for him. You just need something more engrossing.

You put on a period piece. Nothing like a night in with ballgowns and wine. You put your feet up on the table and try to lose yourself in the movie. Ezra is such a pedant when it comes to historical dramas, always pointing out the inaccuracies, complaining about the costumes.

You wish he were here now groaning over the cut of a coat. You wish he was here instead of–

This isn’t working. You know what always clears your mind? A bath.

The clawfoot tub is filled with oils and herbs, the little bathroom flickers in candle light. You slide deeper into the warm water, focus on the way your muscles unwind. You hadn’t even noticed you were so tense. This was a good call. There’s a knot in your shoulder you massage with your hand. Finally feeling serene, your wet fingers coming to slide across your chest. The water drips peacefully out of the faucet and your cheeks bloom with the alcohol and heat. Maybe Ezra should go on more dates, get the place to yourself more often.

You know what would really make you feel relaxed? Your fingers drift below the water, and skate down your belly and your eyes come to close. It’s been over a month since you got off– Connor (though most of the credit should really go to your passion elixir). It’s been impossible to rub one out with someone else in your bed. At least when Ezra was a cat, he spent a lot of time prowling the woods and being moody. Maybe he’d heard you back then, a thought that somehow equally horrifies and thrills you.

You touch yourself with a slow, delicate hand and you’re lost in the idea of him watching you now. His chocolate eyes hungry but his body still, the only movement he allows is the rise and fall of his chest. How many times had he seen you, all of you, and not looked away?

You shiver imagining him, urging you to show him how you take yourself apart. Studying, appreciating. Savoring. Throbbing at each twitch in your brow as you crest and your breath hitches. Even in the water you can feel yourself growing slick, a coil of need winding, and you bite down on your bottom lip. Your mind swirls, your body taught.

He’d be calling you dirty and pretty and good in his flowery prose, stroking your cheek with his knuckles and you unfurl a moan so loud because you don’t have to stay quiet, you’ve got the place to yourself.

Before you’ve even come down from your high, you're flooded with the sting of reality.

No matter how wrong or immoral or risky it is, there’s no denying it– your feelings for Ezra are anything but platonic. And he’s on a date with another woman.

You press the heels of your hands into your eyes with a groan.

The thought of facing Ezra after this revelation makes your stomach turn. You can almost see him sauntering in, hair mussed, body slack from his sexual conquest. It burns a hole in your chest, a scream practically rising in your throat. And you’ll, what, go on living with him, smelling his musk on your sheets and not go completely insane?

You pull the plug from the drain. So much for the bath. It’s early yet but the only thing you can do to help yourself now is be unconscious. There’s no way you’re going to fall asleep with your thoughts racing so you brew up a sleeping draught in the kitchen. With any luck, you won’t have any dreams either.

Ezra’s side of the bed is empty and cold. Mid-morning sun glows on the walls of your bedroom and you’re just waking up, the effects of the potion still making your head groggy. But eventually it dawns on you. He’s not there.

It shouldn’t hurt as much as it does. Your eyes sting with tears, your gut sinking with the weight of it. You imagine Ezra curled up in bed with her. Morning sex. Breakfast. You want to puke.

After a long while pulling yourself together, you realize it’s better this way. The last thing you need is to wake up next to Ezra smelling like sex and the patchouli notes of Zoe’s perfume.

You can’t sulk. You need to get up, get over it.

When you step out of your bedroom, you stop short at the discovery that Ezra’s asleep on the couch. So he didn’t spend the night. It does little to soothe your aching heart. In fact, it somehow feels worse. He looks so perfect, long legs bare and brow smooth, mouth turned down in a pout. It’s not fair you have to survive around a man so perfect.

You go into the bathroom and close the door a little too loud a little on purpose.

Maybe there’s a potion for falling out of love.

Ezra’s dragged himself up by the time you step back into the living room, woken by the slam of the door. He had the damndest time sleeping on that couch. Never realized how lucky he’s been to share the bed.

You stop outside the bathroom door, arms akimbo, and your oversized sleep shirt rides up your thighs.

“Well?” you ask.

Ezra can’t help but smirk at your down to business attitude.

Well indeed.

Zoe had been fine company. Not hard to look at even if the conversation left a little to be desired. His favorite part of the evening came when Zoe brought up the shop and, in turn, you. It was difficult not to let his words run away from him.

Despite his best efforts, knowing that he should give over and accept this, his mind kept slipping back to his little mage. What you would look like in the little frock Zoe had chosen, the jokes that only you would understand. You’d helped him pick out clothes for the evening, a soft woolen sweater you swore wasn't too tight. All night, he kept remembering the drag of your eyes over his arms before you said, “You look really good.” He wants you to look at him like that all the time.

”She’s not intolerable for a mortal,“ he says.

“‘Not intolerable.’ Sounds like Ezra for bangable,” you say. “So?”

Perhaps in another universe, Ezra would have had a splendid time, would have debauched himself. He’d left after only two drinks, a look of disappointment on Zoe’s face that he wouldn’t soon forget. Had he been a better man, he would’ve felt worse about it but he couldn’t care about anything but you. As he walked briskly from the bar, he resolved to tell you everything, that he couldn’t stand even the suggestion that he sleep with someone else when you consume him. Good sense be damned. What was the point of being human if he had to live like this?

But he came home to find the apartment dark, your bedroom door shut. He listened there before opening it ajar to see you sleeping peacefully. Reality sunk in, fast and hard. A confession could ruin everything. His home, the only family he knew, the people he loved. He couldn’t risk losing you.

If he woke you, he’d have you face the question you’d just asked so he’d curled up under the throw blanket on the couch, as he had so many times before.

“I won't make a braggart of myself,” he says, sidestepping the question.

You roll your eyes and head back to your bedroom in a hurry.

Ezra’s shoulders sag with a deep sigh.

Sunday morning in the shop is slower than usual. It’s maddening, leaving you with too much time to meditate on your sorrows as you hide behind the cash register. Every time your eyes land on Ezra, you’re treated to fresh torment. For some reason you can’t stop picturing him fucking her doggy style with wild thrusts of his hips.

“Tea, dear?” Margot asks. Her rings tink against a spoon as she stirs honey into her tea cup. Mint and ginger fills your nostrils.

You merely grunt in reply but hear her setting another cup out for you. There’s a clink of porcelain and Margot clicks her tongue.

“Your bad mood is sullying the energy in here,” she tuts.

You turn to find her wicking spilled tea off of her hand.

“I’m not in a bad mood,” you say too quickly.

What kind of mood are you supposed to be in when you realize you’re in love with your best friend who was, until recently, a cat, and said friend spent the night with another woman? When there’s a chance that this was all for naught when the Elders find out and turn you into a newt?

Margot scoffs and lights a stick of palo santo, wafting its smoke in your direction.

“You’d better not bring that energy into the full moon,” she says. “I don’t need to feel all mopey for the next fortnight.”

You cross your arms.

“Are you still mad at me?” you ask. Margot’s been welcoming to Ezra but you still feel her ambivalence towards you. It hangs in the air the same as your sour aura.

“Mad at you,” she repeats, pouring another cup of tea. “Why? Because you implicated me and Percy in a crime that I’m concealing from the Elders? I should be, shouldn’t I?”

You sink deeper into your frown. Margot hands you the teacup.

“But I haven’t seen you this happy in a long time. Besides whatever bee is in your bonnet today,” she adds with an arched brow. “And that’s made me very happy.”

You look at her, your lip quivering. Margot’s been there for you longer than Ezra, taught you everything you know about magic and given you an unconditional love you can hardly fathom even in adulthood. You nearly spill your tea again, setting it aside so you can throw your arms around her.

She stumbles backwards with an “Oof” and chuckles into your ear. Her open palm warms your back.

“It’s all in the stars,” she says.

And, right now, you have to believe she’s right.

Through the long sleeves of your velvet dress, you feel the chill in the air. It’s much colder than the last time you were in these woods for the solstice. Of course, this is a much different kind of celebration. The fire is smaller, there’s less paraphernalia involved. It’s just the four of you— you and Ezra, Margot and Percy— but it feels more joyful.

Margot leads you in a ritual to draw down the moon, then sets out an ornate jar of water to charge in its light. You and Ezra help her cast some spells. She swears the ones done under a full moon have the strongest effect.

But mostly the night is for merry making. There’s wine and incense and apple cider caramels. Margot perches on a tree stump and plays a few songs on her concertina and Ezra insists that you dance with him.

You do, putting your hands into his and letting him spin you in circles. Margot’s words ring in your ears. You can be happy that he’s happy even if it makes your heart ache. At least now, safe from the rest of the world, hands clasped together, you can pretend.

Ezra looks so handsome in his new robes, you almost wonder if there’s an enchantment on them. The white patch in his hair glows as if the moon came down and kissed him on the forehead. His cheeks are pink and he’s as breathless as you.

You’re both laughing when the music ends and you let your hand stay in Ezra’s for a while, wanting the fantasy to last just a little bit longer.

“Now I must insist on a dance with you,” he says to Margot. He holds out a hand to her but doesn’t let go of yours yet.

“I’m playing the music!” she says.

“There must be an incantation that will make that squeezebox play itself,” he says and he slips from your grip to pull her to her feet.

Percy scrambles off of her lap and hops onto your knee as you flop down on the ground.

“I’ll sing!” you say.

“Goodness no!” Margot says.

You all laugh and Ezra releases her after a few twirls.

Since it’s his party, Ezra takes the liberty of sharing his favorite stories. He sits beside you on the ground, animatedly narrating his wildest adventures. You’re pretty sure half of them are pure fabrication but he’s having so much fun recounting them, you don’t question even the most outlandish of details. The fire warms your face. Though, considering how it’s dying down, it could just be his glow. Ezra loves being at the center of attention and you wonder the last time he had the chance to command so much of it. He hasn’t stopped smiling since the sun set, that gorgeous dimple growing deeper with each hour. You love seeing him like this, full of excitement and life.

Eventually, the moon hangs full overhead and Percy curls up to sleep on Margot’s shoulder. The crackle of the fire slows and you throw your head back to look at the sky dotted with so many twinkling stars. For the first time since Ezra left for his date, you feel peaceful. He’s quiet now and you try to catch another glimpse of him in the dark only to find his dark eyes shining at you. He smiles tenderly, and your whole body warms with affection. You can almost believe it’s a look of longing.

Margot slaps her hands against her thighs and stands, breaking your gaze.

“Well, I’d better go before I turn into a pumpkin,” she says.

“Oh, come on. It’s early,” you say.

“We’ll brew you something to wake you in the morning,” Ezra offers.

“That’s alright. Enjoy,” she says. Before she heads back into the trees, she takes Ezra’s hand and gives it a squeeze and pats you on the shoulder.

You’re quiet for a long time, watching the fire die down. It comes back to you, slowly at first, then a flood of emotion, the uncertainty of your future. This night has been a gift but, one way or another, you’re destined to lose Ezra. There’s a melancholy look on his face that hints he might be thinking about the same things.

“Should we retire then?” he asks after a sigh.

“Wait. I want to give you something,” you say. Margot arranged this whole evening and you feel like you’ve shown up to a party empty handed.

“You’ve given more than enough.”

“Well, apparently I’ve been putting off really bad vibes. So a protection spell.” You rise to your feet.

Ezra pulls himself up with your help and this time you don’t allow him to let go. You take both of his hands in yours, his rough fingers entwined in your own, and he watches you, with a fond curiosity on his face. He flusters you. His gaze is so intense, you have a hard time meeting his eye.

“Okay,” you say, shaking out your limbs.

Magic tingles where your palms meet and you notice that his thumb traces yours gently. Having spent the night before without him seems to double the intimacy of the moment. He looks downright beautiful like this, the angles of his face outlined in fire and moonlight. It’s almost unbearable.

“Ezra,” you start.

His lips part at the sound of his name.

“I protect you with my magic and my spirit,” you say.

He can surely feel it surrounding him like an embrace. It’s so intense, you can barely fill your lungs. His eyes are so soft, round and sweet. They glisten in the darkness.

“And my heart,” you add, your voice breaking.

You put your palm against his cheek, the pad of your thumb tracing the hairline scar there, to seal the spell and he takes in a sharp little gasp at your touch. There’s a look in his eye, beseeching, and you feel the tug of his magic, drawing you in closer like a knot tightening between you. It’s a whisper, so faint you’re probably imagining it, but you follow it to him, to his lips.

Before you even realize it, you’re kissing him. Tender and aching and it feels like relief to have his mouth on yours, to taste the wine on his tongue. His lips are soft and hesitant. Your body molds against him, it always does. You’ve been in his arms so many times before and yet it’s never felt more right than this very moment.

Except that it’s wrong. There are all of those reasons why this can’t be, how awkward it will be when he stops you, when he goes back to sleeping on the couch. Suddenly you’re pulling away despite your body screaming for you to do anything else.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe. “I shouldn’t have– Shit!” You swallow down a lump in your throat.

Ezra holds you firm by your elbows, pulling your hand away from your lips and shaking his head.

“Little mage, I have wanted nothing more for longer than you can know,” he says, his eyes crinkling with a smile.

You stare at him, wide eyed, mouth agape, trying to make sense of his words. Your heart flips and you let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob.

And then he kisses you again and again and again.

🐈‍⬛

Comments and reblogs appreciated! Asks always open! I'd love to hear from you!

#ezra #ezra prospect #nine lives #ezra x f!reader #ezra x reader #familiar!ezra x witch!reader #witch!ezra #prospect fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic

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catsukkii · 1 day ago

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"can you spot me?" | kirishima x reader

summary: kirishima has a little crush on the pretty girl from the gym, who just so happens to be you.

gymbro!kirishima, who decides to switch up from his usual gym for once and explore his other options, and the minute his eyes land on you jogging on the treadmill, hes never been more fucking happy he explored.

gymbro!kirishima, who now decides this will certainly be his regular gym just in hopes of seeing you. now, eijirou was never one to ogle at girls at the gym, sure, he could recognize some of them were attractive, but it was never manly to drool over random women! which is why he beats himself up so bad when he catches himself staring at you doing squats for a little longer then normal.

gymbro!kirishima, who stands at the pull up’s after a hardcore session, sweating and breathing heavily. who also, just about jumps out of his skin when he looks to the left and you’re there staring at him with big eyes.

gymbro!kirishima, who stammers and stutters nervously when you ask him to spot your squats, “huh? oh- what? yes- I mean- yes! of course!” you simply smile as a faint giggle escapes past your lips at his nervousness. he mentally facepalms himself but continues to laugh it off with you nonetheless.

gymbro!kirishima, who physically can’t help the way his eyes drift down, partially forgetting what he even came here to do, and that was to spot you. which he was doing quite poorly at.

gymbro!kirishima, who feels horrible when you set the weight down and look at him with an awkward grin, ur brows had furrowed lightly as he mentally beat himself up.

“hey uhm, thanks for your help but I think that’s enough for today-“ you go to wrap up the conversation to avoid an awkward conflict, plus the fact you’ll probably see each other often if you go to the same gym, you didn't want to have any problems in the future.

“w-wait!” he stammers over his words and lowers his head down as if he were an ashamed puppy. “I’m sorry, I swear I can do better! I was just..distracted.” you nod along at his words, it’s nerve wracking to meet new people, especially at the gym, so you understood why he would be distracted after all.

“here!- look,” he reaches for his back pocket and pulls out his phone with a silly shark case covering the electronic. “will you put your number in my phone? so we can try again some day? I swear I’ll be better.” he breathily laughs as if to ease the tension, and you decide, why not, what’s the harm in a new gym buddy right?

gymbro!kirishima, who does his best to cover up how ecstatic he is he just bagged the ‘pretty girl at the gym's’ number, immediately texting the groupchat with all of his various friends as they cheer him on and congratulate him on ‘not being a pussy anymore.’

gymbro!kirishima, who texts you that night with a smile on his face, simply writing out,

‘hey, you goin to the gym tmrw? we can totally train together and I can be a better spotter!!🦈💪’

gymbro!kirishima, who kicks his feet and giggles like a school girl once you text back,

‘I’d love to! don’t disappoint me this time kay😊?”

#kirishima x y/n #kirishima x you #kirishima x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima ejirou #bnha kirishima #mha kirishima #bnha eijiro kirishima #.thenaheadcanons #.thenadrabble

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saeslove · 17 hours ago

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🕸️ 013 . the silent touch

synopsis when the star football player Michael Kaiser shows up at your window injured, you tend to his wounds and uncover a deeper side to him. as secrets unfold and emotions rise, you find yourself questioning your growing feelings for him. wc 1.8k

as you skimmed through your textbook for the calculus exam you were struggling with, doubts swirled in your mind. you couldn’t shake the unease about inviting a stranger into your house. your study lamp was the only source of light in the dim room.

your thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the window.

you glanced over and saw a silhouette of a man outside. hesitant at first, you received a text “i’m here.” it was from kaiser. as soon as you opened the window, a gust of wind rushed in, followed by the sight of a shivering Michael Kaiser.

"did you really climb up a 15-story apartment? you could’ve just come through the front door."

you stepped aside, letting him in as he walked around your room, inspecting your bedroom. “nice room.”

“yeah, it’s nothing special, though.”

his gaze fell on your study table, where papers were scattered everywhere. “oh, what’s this? calculus? you’re struggling with this?” he hid a smirk behind his smile.

“hey! this is the only chapter i need help with, and my exam is soon”

as he stepped closer to the light, his face was illuminated, and for the first time today, you saw his features clearly.

“what’s that on your face?”

his eyes met yours, but before he could respond, you stepped closer, brushing your fingers over his cheek. you felt the cut and bruise.

he quickly pulled away, looking down, hiding behind his hoodie. “it’s nothing. just a cut from football.”

“no, it’s not nothing,” you insisted. “let me help you. i’ll go get it the first aid outside.”

as you carefully tended to his wounds, you couldn’t ignore how close his face was to yours. just as you were finishing up, he winced, and a rush of sympathy just hit you. this bruise seemed to cut deeper than just the surface.

“you know, normal people use the door,” you said, attempting to ease the awkward tension hanging in the air.

“yeah, but then i wouldn’t get to see that look on your face. totally worth it,” he replied with a faint grin.

you opened your mouth to respond but decided against it, letting the words hang in the silence. his eyes, however, never left yours.

“i know what you want to ask,” he said, breaking the quiet.

“what?” you asked, your voice softer than you intended.

“you want to know where i got all these bruises,” he said, his tone unreadable.

“i mean, yeah but if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine”

“just a rough game, tackles hit harder sometimes. it’s not a big deal.” he shrugs

“you’ve got bruises everywhere, and a broken rib the other day and i’m supposed to believe this is just soccer? what soccer have you been playing?”

he leans back slightly, smirking, “why are you so worked up over this? maybe i should get injured more often then?”

you shot him a look. “don’t even joke about that. do you think i want to keep patching you up every time you get yourself hurt?”

“i didn’t ask you to but maybe you secretly like it”

"yeah sure, i just watching you wince in pain," you teased, smacking his bicep lightly. but the way he flinched made you pause.

your brow furrowed. "wait are you hurt somewhere else?"

"no" he said quickly, but the way his hand instinctively clutched his arm betrayed him.

you shot him a pointed look, and he sighed in defeat. "fine."

slowly, he pulled off his hoodie, revealing a nasty injury on his arm. you breath hitched as you took in the sight—though it wasn’t just the wound that caught your attention.

this was your first time seeing his tattoo up close. the intricate blue rose tattoo on his arm was impossible to ignore, the way it seemed to almost bloom under the light. as you gently cleaned the wound, your fingers brushed against his skin, and your eyes lingered a second too long.

"cool, right?" his voice was softer now, almost playful.

you glanced up at him. "yeah but why a blue rose?"

he hesitated, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "honestly? i don’t really know. i got it after i started playing football. it just felt right."

there was something unspoken in his words, something that made your heart beat a little faster. but before you could press further, a loud knock echoed through the house, snapping the moment like a twig underfoot.

“oh no that’s my dad! you have to hide! and don’t leave this room”

he raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by your sudden panic. “your dad? is he one of those ‘clean my shotgun while i meet your friends type?”

you glared at him, shoving him toward your closet. “don’t test it. now go!”

“fine, fine relax schatz.” he scrambled to his feet, wincing slightly as he moved. “but if he asks, i came through the door like a normal person.” surrendering his hands in the air.

“just hide!” you hissed, practically shoving him inside. he ducked into the cramped space, grumbling under his breath about how tight it was.

the knock sounded again, louder this time. taking a deep breath, you smoothed your hair and rushed to open the door.

your dad stood there, holding a set of car keys. “hey, i left my keys at home and just wanted to let you know i’m heading out to work again. need anything when i come home?”

you forced a smile, trying to steady your heartbeat. “nope, i’m good! thanks.”

he frowned slightly, eyes narrowing as he glanced past you into your room. “are you okay? you seem... jumpy.”

“nope, not at all. actually, i was just doing yoga” you leaned casually against the doorframe, praying he wouldn’t notice the slightly ajar closet door.

“in the dark?” he asked calmly but still suspicious.

“yeah it’s just a girls thing hehe”

after a long moment, he shrugged. “alright. i’ll be back tomorrow morning, love you.”

as soon as the door closed behind him, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. turning back to the closet, you yanked the door open.

“coast is clear”

he was sitting on the floor of your closet, holding one of your old basketball trophies. “didn’t know you played. pretty impressive.”

you grabbed the trophy from him, trying to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks. “just a past time hobby.”

you sat beside him despite the small space, the silence between you heavy but not unwelcome. for a moment, it was just the two of you, the closeness offering a strange sort of comfort.

“you have a nice dad,” he said softly, breaking the quiet.

“thank you,” you replied, glancing at him. “he works really hard, and i try my best to make him proud.”

he hummed in acknowledgment, leaning his head back against the wall. his gaze seemed far away, as if the room had disappeared around him. “my dad used to beat me up for every little thing i did, especially when we didn’t have any food.”

he words hit like a brick, cutting through the air with quiet devastation. your breath caught, and you turned to him, studying the way his expression stayed oddly calm, like he’d come to terms with it long ago or maybe just buried it deep.

“that’s awful i’m so sorry,” you whispered, unsure if anything you said could even begin to be enough.

je shrugged, offering a faint, bitter smile. “it was what it was. i guess some people aren’t meant to be dads.”

you hesitated, the weight of his words sinking into you. “but you turned out different. you’re not like him.”

he finally looked at you, his eyes softer now, as if your words had reached a part of him he didn’t let people see. “i try” he murmured, his voice almost inaudible.

“your calculus, let me help you with it” he whispered.

you blinked at the sudden shift in conversation, confusion written all over your face. “my calculus? are you seriously using my math homework as a distraction right now?”

“yeah as a reward for patching me up, i’ll help you. you can’t say no because i’m not leaving here until you understand derivatives.”

he sat up, and walked over to your the notes you spread out on the table.

in the past hour he has taught you, you catch yourself watching him more than your notes. the way his brows furrow in concentration, the way his voice softens when he's explaining something challenging.

"see? it’s not that hard," he says, leaning back and grinning.

shaking your head. "yeah, easy for you to say. you ace everything without trying."

"that’s not true," he counters, his tone lighter now. "i’ve got a lot going on, just like you."

you hesitate, noticing the way his grin fades slightly as he speaks. for a brief moment, his vulnerability peeks through again, and it stirs something unfamiliar in your chest.

"you know you’re not what i expected” you say without thinking.

he looks at you, curiosity flickering in his eyes. "what did you expect?"

you shrug, trying to play it off, trying to not get on his nerves “i don’t know. some overconfident star athlete who only cares about himself. but! you’re different."

he smirks, “glad to know i’m not a total cliché."

you find your heart beating faster, your mind racing with the realisation that maybe this isn’t just some casual friendship.

"why are you looking at me like that?" he asks, breaking the moment.

you blink, heat rushing to your cheeks. "looking at you like what”

he smirks, leaning closer. there it was, undenying gaze— intense, unflinching, and impossible to look away from. It was as though he could see right through you. you swallow hard, unaware of how close he is.

"maybe i should go," he says, but there’s hesitation in his voice.

and for the first time, you find yourself not wanting him to leave.

series MASTERLIST

notes from lily ❦⋆ : my fever went down so i decided to just post this, hope u enjoy & thank you for waiting!

i know kaiser didn’t really go to school but i feel like if he did then he would’ve been smart at everything…

TAGLIST

@mixolya @x3nafix @96jnie @tamashithe2nd @cookielovesbook-akie @yuiearyi @noomimi @stargirljas @jhsluvv @sof888a @livelaughloveshidou @swagkittybear @axquella @passw-0-rd @hwaassaa @bbladie @tofumiarchives @justanotherweeb666 @metaphorically-here @ravenbc @levihanmyotp @rybunnie @adrnmyknight @etherealrin @shosuki @90s-belladonna @wwastro @shr00mfairy [tell me if i missed out anyone’s name]

comments & reblogs appreciated!

@ saeslove 2025 do not plagiarize, translate, or rewrite my writings without my permission !

#blue lock smau #michael kaiser smau #michael kaiser #michael kaiser x reader smau #michael kaiser x reader #bllk #bllk x reader #spiderman michael kaiser #saeslove #lily writes! ೀ⋆｡˚

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cha-melodius · 1 day ago

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30 for zahra/shaan for the hug prompts if it sparks joy <3

(Thank you for sending this one, I've never really written Zahra/Shaan from either of their POVs and it was a lot of fun. Not to mention this hug prompt was perfect for them. read all the hug ficlets)

30: The reluctant hug from someone who isn’t exactly a fan of physical affection.

The first time they see each other in person after the email leaks is when Henry goes to DC for Alex’s speech.

Usually, in a situation like this where they’re only interacting for work, neither of them would even think about letting any part of their relationship slip through. All the looks, all the touches, even a hint of personal conversation—that stuff is only let out when they’re off the clock. They’ve crammed a lot into two-day holidays over the last half a year, and even with what little pieces they get of each other, it’s worth it.

Today is different, though. He can see the toll that the leaks and their aftermath have taken on Zahra. Not just because of the political impact, though of course that is her job to deal with, but the personal one too. Zahra cares deeply about Alex, more than she’d ever admit to anyone. Shaan can tell, though. Could tell when he first heard the minute hitch in her breath over the telephone line. She feels responsible, just as he does. They couldn’t protect their charges, no matter how hard they tried.

Now, she’s running around as usual, barely sparing him a glance as she barks out schedules and timing. They’ve landed no more than a half an hour before Alex is due to speak, and it’s a mad rush, even when Alex and Henry disappear for ten minutes, no doubt to do things Shaan would rather not think about. It’s not until later that evening—they’re staying overnight, something he’d quietly insisted upon when they’d made these plans—that Shaan manages to actually catch her.

“Did you need something?” she asks brusquely. He knows better than to take it personally.

“Yes,” he tells her, equally business-like. “Can I speak with you privately for a moment?”

Her eyes flash like she knows what he’s up to. She probably does. Normally, he’d never attempt to request a private moment, even now when most of the White House has retired for the night, but there’s nothing about this situation that’s normal. For a moment he thinks she’s going to refuse, but then she gives a short nod and leads him through a random doorway.

“Ok, Srivastava, what is it? I don’t really have time—” she starts immediately, which is a lie because he personally heard Ellen Claremont say she didn’t need anything else from Zahra tonight.

“Zahra,” he interrupts softly, putting hand over one of hers.

She doesn’t pull away, which is a good sign. Or maybe a bad one. When she looks up at him, the conflict is plain on her face. “We can’t—” she starts. Stops and licks her lips, her lipstick still flawless this late at night. “Not here.”

“I know,” he reassures her. “I’m not asking for much. Just a hug.” She narrows her eyes at him, and Shaan lets his expression soften. “You’d be doing me a favor.”

Even in the moments when they can truly be alone together, Zahra isn’t much of a hugger. She won’t even initiate one on those rare occasions where she wants to be held, so Shaan has learned to detect such circumstances and then ask for one for himself. She always gives a little huff, like it’s a chore, though if she didn’t want to she’d just tell him no and walk away. Then she will reluctantly let herself be drawn into his arms, and only when her face is hidden against his neck will she allow her shoulders to relax. She’ll take a deep breath, her arms tightening around his waist, and he’ll hold her for however long she allows.

Today, Zahra needs a hug, and Shaan will do whatever he must to give it to her. It helps that it’s not a lie—Shaan really could use a hug himself, after everything.

He has to keep himself from smiling when she rolls her eyes and lets out her usual huff. The rest follows as he’s become accustomed to, though she holds him tighter and longer than he was expecting. Then she shocks him by murmuring, “I love you,” into the collar of his shirt. “Thank fuck you’re here.”

“I’m here, my love,” he breathes as he smooths a hand over her hair. “I’m here.”

#rwrb #red white and royal blue #zahra/shaan #shaan/zahra #rwrb fic #hug ficlets #my fic #ngl i made my own heart ache writing this one

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floweryrings · 2 days ago

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guys it’s not normal for me to be scared to live in the usa if i’ve been living here my entire life. today’s the morning of the inauguration and i’m terrified for the future of this country. all this talk about the us being an oligarchy as if it hasnt been one for forever? the tiktok ban was one thing, a prime example of strategic restoration. trump started the whole mess then swooped in to save the day ??? the scariest part is the people who are falling for it and calling him “king” or thanking him. NO!!! HE STARTED THIS MESS

ive seen so many comparisons between the us now and the french revolution/other countries that used to be fascist. the similarities ARE SO CLEAR but no one’s DOING anything. i feel so helpless. i want to go to college. i want to be able to buy a house. i want to he able to afford healthcare. but i CANT.

these next four years (and years to come) are gonna be terrifying if you’re not a white billionaire. i just want the rest of the american people to wake the fuck up.

#sorry if this is. worded badly??? i’m just in a state of panic this morning #us politics #politics #can we please do something #im scared #i dont want this inauguration to happen #tiktok ban

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delirious-donna · 1 day ago

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an: angst is not usually where my brain goes but this idea… it just consumed by brain (like he has). My first ever foray into Blue Lock so please be kind!! Plus, it’s just a short lil thing. 🥺

pairing: Shoei Barou x female reader

warnings: SFW, a little angst, a little fluff, Barou isn’t great with feelings

It had been months.

Months of consistently subtle interactions that had led to this. This… unfamiliar feeling in his chest.

It was uncomfortable, and it made him grumpy when he couldn’t identify the source. Barou didn’t like to be in the dark about anything, let alone why his body was misbehaving.

Rubbing a palm over the area didn’t help in the slightest, nor did ignoring its existence.

On those nights where he would lie awake and stare at the ceiling, often the nights before an important match, he would poke at the feeling. Metaphorically speaking, of course.

Barou would close his eyes and try to figure out what weighed so heavily on his conscious that his skin prickled from the discomfort. It couldn’t be nerves for his upcoming game, he was the king and the king had no worry about his prowess out on the field.

It made him even more grouchy than normal; growling and snarling at his mediocre teammates when they tried to joke with him. He was a bear with a bad head, and everyone was sick of it—most of all, him.

The realisation dawned slowly one Saturday morning.

With the heaviness in his chest following him around like there was a boulder lodged where his heart should be, he made his way to his pre-match sports massage.

There you were.

Sunshine smiles and starry eyed. The complete antithesis of himself. He knew the moment the weight lifted that you were the reason, though he refused to acknowledge it.

The discomfort melted away like ice under a heat lamp, leaving behind a tingly sensation that spread out from his heart to the tips of his fingers and toes. All of it, he ignored.

You were gentle despite how you could bring a grown ass man to his knees with the right combination of pressure points. You were friendly and inquisitive without coming across as nosy. You were soft-spoken but no nonsense at the same time. You were everything he wasn’t, and…

Barou wanted you.

“Right on time, Barou! I do love a punctual man,” you teased with a bright smile that lit up your small office.

“Shoei…” He so desperately wanted to correct you, to hear his given name roll around your mouth and trip off your pretty pink tongue. Instead, he gave a grunt and lay on the table as he had done for the past six months.

If his silence bothered you, you didn’t show it. The determination and skilful expertise of your hands eased onto his body like an old friend. His heart fluttered and his fists clenched.

He would never not be impressed by your ability to remember his every little past twinge and injury. It wasn’t like you were his personal physio, far from it since the whole team graced your office on a regular basis. Barou secretly wondered if he might be special to you, but quickly dismissed that idea with an audible grimace.

“Tender here today? Hm, that’s not normal for you.”

You had taken his reaction as a sign of pain at your manipulation of the area directly behind his left knee. He could kick himself. He was a damn idiot.

Barou grunted, “Nah, my mind was elsewhere.”

With a subtle nod, you hummed and continued to work diligently across his hamstrings which were known to give him problems. They were problems of his own making, as you liked to remind him, since he had a tendency to expect maximum exertion for a full ninety minute game.

“You’re a man not a machine!” You’d scowl him time and again.

You weren’t buying his excuse. He couldn’t blame you. He was a shitty liar. The truth was what he preferred—the blunter the better.

“Turn over,” you asked with a tap at his ankle. “Wanna talk about it? Where your mind is, I mean. It might help.”

“I think I’m in love with you.”

Except, he didn’t say it out loud. He couldn’t. For all his bravado of never shying away from the truth, no matter how painful… he couldn’t face his own.

He looked into your sweet face, ruby eyes bouncing between yours and dared to dream that what he saw was more than professional curiosity. The words burned his throat and turned his mouth to ash. If only he could brave the final hurdle, score the winning goal…

“Don’t go worrying about me. Tell me about your week and let me forget my problems for a bit.”

Barou was no king, not when you were the one wearing the crown.

Placed there by his hand.

His crown.

#delirious writes #shoei barou #barou x reader #barou angst #barou fluff #barou shoei x reader #barou shoei fluff #bllk angst #bllk x reader #bllk fluff #barou shoei

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enemiestolovershoe · 5 hours ago

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Backstage Comfort

Noah Sebastian x reader

Summary: Noah takes care of reader while being on her period. Matt and Folio wouldn’t be Matt and Folio when they wouldn’t tease Noah.

Words: 798

Warnings: Period and Cramps, Teasing

A/N: This was requested but I somehow deleted the request. I wrote another version of this with just reader and Noah. Click here.

The backstage area of the venue buzzed with pre-show energy. The hum of amplifiers being tested, the shuffle of crew members setting up, and the distant roar of an excited crowd all blended into a chaotic symphony. Normally, you thrived in this environment, feeding off the adrenaline of watching Noah and the rest of Bad Omens prepare for another killer performance. But today, you weren’t feeling quite as enthusiastic.

You sat curled up on a couch in the corner of the green room, clutching a small pillow to your stomach. The ache in your abdomen hadn’t eased all day, and no amount of ibuprofen or deep breathing seemed to help.

Noah walked in from the hallway, dressed in his signature all-black outfit. His dark eyes scanned the room, immediately landing on you. “Hey,” he said, his voice soft but tinged with concern as he crossed the room in a few long strides. “You okay?”

You managed a weak smile. “Just cramps. I’ll be fine.”

Noah frowned, crouching in front of you so he could meet your eyes. “You don’t look fine.”

“It’s just one of those days,” you admitted. “Don’t worry about me. You have a show to get ready for.”

“Yeah, well, you’re more important than the show,” he said simply, his brow furrowed. “What do you need? Food? Tea? Heating pad?”

Your heart melted a little at how quickly he shifted into caretaker mode. “I don’t think they have a heating pad in the green room,” you said with a small laugh.

“Then I’ll improvise.” He stood up, glancing around the room.

At that moment, Matt walked in, clipboard in hand and his headset slightly askew. “What’s going on in here?” he asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and teasing. “Why’s Noah looking like a guy on a mission?”

“She’s got cramps,” Noah said without missing a beat, turning to Matt. “Do we have anything warm she can use? Like a towel or something?”

Matt’s mouth quirked into a smirk. “Look at you, Dr. Caregiver. You thinking of adding ‘period expert’ to your résumé?”

Noah shot him a flat look. “Are you going to help, or are you just here to make jokes?”

“Both,” Matt replied, his grin widening. “But mostly jokes.” He turned to you, leaning casually against the doorframe. “You sure you’re okay? He’s not being too overbearing, is he?”

You smiled despite the ache in your stomach. “No, he’s perfect.”

“Perfectly whipped,” Matt muttered under his breath, earning a sharp look from Noah.

Folio wandered in next, a drumstick twirling lazily between his fingers. “What’s going on? Why’s Noah looking like someone kicked his puppy?”

“He’s trying to MacGyver a heating pad,” Matt explained, clearly enjoying himself.

Folio raised an eyebrow. “So, full boyfriend mode, huh? Let me guess—he’s already planning a tea ceremony and a hot towel spa experience for you.”

You chuckled at their antics while Noah groaned. “You two are so helpful,” he said dryly, heading out of the room.

“Always,” Matt called after him, winking at you.

When Noah returned a few minutes later, he was carrying a warm towel and a bottle of water. He placed the towel gently over your stomach, adjusting it with care. “Better?” he asked, sitting beside you.

“Much better,” you said softly, leaning into him.

“Need anything else? Tea? Snacks? Ice cream?”

“You’ve already done enough,” you replied, touched by his efforts.

“Too bad. I’m not stopping.”

Matt, who had taken up residence on the couch across from you, grinned. “You’re really setting the bar here, man. How’re the rest of us supposed to compete with this level of dedication?”

“You’re not,” Noah replied without missing a beat.

Folio snorted. “Okay, but if she starts expecting this every time, we’re blaming you for creating unrealistic standards.”

Noah smirked. “Good. You should all take notes.”

Despite their teasing, Matt and Folio made themselves useful, making sure the crew left you alone and bringing over a blanket they found in the equipment closet. Between Noah’s warmth and their lighthearted banter, the ache in your stomach seemed just a little easier to bear.

When it was finally time for the show, you felt well enough to join the crew at the side of the stage. Matt gave you an exaggerated thumbs-up as you took your spot, while Folio leaned over and muttered, “Let us know if Nurse Noah slacks off.”

Noah rolled his eyes, but his arm slipped protectively around your waist as he glanced down. “You good?” he asked quietly.

“Perfect,” you said, smiling up at him.

And as the lights dimmed and the first chords rang out, you couldn’t help but feel grateful—not just for Noah, but for the ridiculous, wonderful team around you who made even the worst days bearable.

Taglist: @courta13

#fanfiction #noah sebastian x you #noah sebastian fluff #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian x ofc #noah sebastian x reader #noah bad omens #noah sebastian davis #noah sebastian #new writer boost #new writers on tumblr #support new writer

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ryuichirou · 2 days ago

Note

I know you don’t write anything with Yuu/OCs, they’re included but not as the main. Sorta a warning.

how do you think the boys would react to a partner (Yuu/oc/other canon character) who DOESN’T masturbate or watch porn? Given that it’s slightly agreed upon that boys in an all boys school is absolutely getting off, what’s the reaction to the like one guy who isn’t?

I’ll also add another note, the partner isn’t ace or lacking sexual attraction, they just choose to not do that.

Guess what, a hc post today!

This ask is insanely old, one of the oldest ones that are currently in our askbox, and I really wonder if the person who asked it is still here, but if they are: thank you for being patient, for asking and for enjoying our stuff. I am sorry it took this long, and sorry to everyone else who’s been waiting for months…

But enough of me apologising, let’s talk about this ask! As you already mentioned, we don’t really do Yuu/OC stuff, so I wrote in a way that was easier for me: by mentioning our specific ships. I hope that’s okay with you.

And just like you stated, the person in question isn’t ace, so I am not touching this particular aspect at all in this post.

Anyways, let’s roll…

Riddle – obviously, he isn’t surprised, in fact ,he is almost offended that it’s presented like it’s a big and shocking thing. This is just the right thing to do to him – why would anyone want to masturbate or watch porn anyway? Why would anyone desire physical intimacy until marriage? Sounds highly inappropriate to him! I feel like Riddle would probably get shocked if he heard that his potential partner does masturbate or watch porn… especially if it’s someone he has some respect for, like Trey, for example.

Ace – “Yeah, right! … Wait, for real?” type of reaction lol I feel like he is someone who would instantly start asking a lot of questions, trying to figure out why wouldn’t someone who doesn’t lack sexual attraction watch porn or jerk off. He would instantly start teasing, egging his partner on; if he is feeling especially douchey, he might even tell everyone about it. Is it because he himself watches so much porn that this is the only way he can process not wanting to watch it? Maybe. Anyway, he broke Deuce’s “no watching porn and no jerking off” streak once like this. If it’s serious though, he might accept it after a certain point. Not with Deuce though, he can’t let Deuce feel like he’s better than him…

Deuce – surprised, but also a little embarrassed about himself. He would feel like this is very inspiring, but also very humbling – he could never manage to not masturbate for longer than a couple of days… He is a mix of insecurity and supportiveness. If someone like Jack states that he doesn’t do such things, Deuce would feel such a strong urge to also stop doing that, even if he isn’t asked to, just because it feels weird to do it when his partner doesn’t. It’s like it’s cheating somehow if only one of them does it. He is a bit of a mess… very conflicted young man that overthinks it a lot.

Trey – if it’s someone like Riddle, he’s not surprised at all. A tiiiiny little bit concerned, but not surprised: he is actually smart enough to know that it’s not absolutely mandatory to masturbate or watch porn to even be healthy, but for some reason he also frames it as “well those people are special/their own kind, I’m just a normal guy” in his head.

Cater – his reaction would be similar to Ace’s, but he wouldn’t be as much of a douche about it. When Ace starts asking questions, it’s obvious that even though he is shocked, he is kind of mocking or at least teasing, but Cater has more curiosity…or is it nosiness?? Anyway, he could get somewhat obnoxious about it, but he isn’t super close with anyone to the point of having an actual opinion. To each their own?? I guess.

Leona – he couldn’t care less; as someone who is too lazy to jerk off a lot of times, he isn’t completely shocked that there are people who aren’t into it. He would get sooomewhat surprised if it’s someone from his own dorm though, like Jack or Ruggie; he might tease the latter a little bit for that. What, are you storing sperm now? Are you planning on donating it later? But nothing more than that.

Ruggie – he does think that every single guy in NRC jerks off every now and then, so he would be mildly surprised to hear that someone doesn’t, and probably won’t believe them anyway lol But it’s not like he would care much. Even if it’s his partner, it’s none of his business, but if it’s Leona we’re talking about, Ruggie would think that he is just trying to stay pent up until they have sex… or that he is that lazy that even jerking his wiener is too much work for him at this point.

Jack – his reaction would be somewhat similar to Deuce’s; he would probably be slightly surprised, but then impressed, and then somewhat embarrassed of himself. It really might urge him to stop masturbating himself; he already isn’t a huge fan of himself doing that, but his body is too demanding and causes him problems if he doesn’t jerk off every now and then… I guess that would make him want to have sex more often lol If Jack and Deuce decided to stop masturbating together, they’ll just end up hooking up endlessly.

Azul – he isn’t super into sex or masturbation, so he wouldn’t think it’s a big deal, UNLESS he really wants to use it as a leverage. For example, he might be a little bummed out that Jamil isn’t really interested in those things because now he can’t really use it against him…which is a bit messed up thing to even consider about your partner lol In general though, it’s even better for him if his partner doesn’t masturbate. He gets jealous and he is very controlling, so I can see him as the type to get kind of pissy that his partner masturbates… he is lucky that neither Jamil nor Idia really do that all that much…

Jade – it depends. In general, he really doesn’t care, so if it’s never mentioned, he won’t even think about it. But if his partner makes a point about it, then Jade is going to get interested. For example, if Idia states that he doesn’t really watch hentai for anything other than artistic value and doesn’t jerk off, that would automatically make Jade want to make him want to masturbate somehow. Maybe with cunningness, maybe with mushrooms, but he really wants to see what it takes to make that person reconsider, just because it sounds like a taunting, I mean challenge.

Floyd – same thing, but with a bit of a different flavour. Of course he’s going to want to make someone like Riddle (who is very righteous and principled about not masturbating) jerk off, of course he is going to bully him into that, of course he is going to have fun with it. It’s not like he cares all that much, but if it comes from a place of insecurity and he can sense that, he is going to take advantage of that.

Kalim – somehow… Kalim feels too wholesome to care. I think he is one of the people who would just think that it means that he and his partner would get to spend more time having fun together!! <3 Maybe it’s difficult to talk about Kalim because we only ship him with Jamil, and their situation is too unique… does he even think of Jamil as of someone who would masturbate? Does Kalim even think about those things at all?

Jamil – similarly to Kalim, he would think that no masturbation = more sex, but unlike Kalim, he would hate that lol For some reason, Jamil’s potential partners are all clingy and annoying, so he actually wouldn’t mind at all if someone like Kalim or Azul left him alone for a change and jerked off in their respective rooms. He might even encourage that, maybe even while acting all sweet and caring, secretly hoping that he would get some “me time” in return. He is such a good boyfriend, that Jamil <3

VIl – he respects personal choices like that, and he always tries to be very mature about it. He might get concerned if it’s with someone like Rook because Vil knows how he gets when he is pent up… but he would never really judge anyone for not masturbating or not watching porn. He would be very pleasantly tickled if his lover who doesn’t masturbate jerked off on his pictures though…

Rook – he wouldn’t get surprised because chances are, he is already aware lol He also doesn’t judge, and he finds abstinence to be romantic and poetic, even if it’s just a matter of “I’m not feeling it”. But he is also a strong believer of accumulating lust until the actual rendezvous. He and Vil are similar in this regard… but if it’s someone like Idia, who, once again, just doesn’t want to masturbate, I can see Rook being incredibly (sickly) sweet about it, which would still feel creepy somehow.

Epel – while hearing that from someone like Floyd and Rook would surprise him on many many many levels, even if he hears that from anyone else it would be somewhat surprising. He started jerking off even before he discovered porn… so not wanting to do that at all feels strange to him. He won’t make a big deal about it, but he might suddenly remember about it and ask questions similar to “but why?” or “not at all???” every now and then.

Idia – he believes that dating is overrated, sex is overrated, masturbation is overrated, but also Idia is still a gooner at heart, so abstinence from porn would probably prompt a discussion about how eroge and hentai are actually art and should be appreciated no matter what. Just in case. That being said, he doesn’t care about his partner not masturbating, until he remembers that the majority of his partner options are super horny guys, so them not masturbating for any reason would only mean that he is going to get more heat from them. Please feel free to jerk off more! It’s good for you! It really is!

Ortho – he also wouldn’t be surprised… but he will act surprised! He will play this “whaat, but don’t all boys masturbate???” card, even though he knows that it’s not true. He just really, really wanted to say this line, okay? Anyways, he’ll only comment on that if he feels like his partner’s vitals show that he needs to jerk off asap! But he’ll suggest his help in that case anyway~

Lilia – he should know better with how old he is and how many kinds of boys he’d seen, but he would still get surprised. The all-boys school setting is such a classic to him, and he knows that even the most pure and chaste ones still have dirty thoughts every now and then… Similarly to some other guys, he’ll play it as “aww, you can’t do it without me? It’s okay, I knew you’d get lonely <3”…

Silver – this boy doesn’t get why he should be surprised, so he probably wouldn’t be, but I have an inkling that he might say that the person should do it every now and then because otherwise you’d get sick. Where did he learn it from? Lilia, of course. But then he’d go “ah, but if we’re doing it anyway, it shouldn’t be a problem”. Where did he learn that from? Lilia again, of course.

Sebek – another one who would fully consider it a norm, but once again there is some nuance depending on who we’re talking about. If it’s Silver, then it’s “Of course you don’t, that would be disgraceful!”, while secretly seething a little bit because now he feels like Silver has the upper hand between the two of them, because Sebek himself is having a hard time holding back sometimes… And if it’s Malleus, then it’s “Of course my liege wouldn’t!! <3” but also simultaneously getting extremely embarrassed because now he can’t help but think about Malleus doing things to himself… If it’s someone like Idia though, he might actually gain some respect towards him because of that. Sebek’s mind works in interesting ways lol

Malleus – I don’t think he would care that much, frankly. It’s not like he is super into masturbating or watching porn himself, but he also is aware that this is something that is natural and expected – Lilia has taught him that. So he could be miiiildly surprised, but ultimately it just means that he and his partner would be more pent up when they’re together, right? At least in Malleus’ head, and that feels like a very good thing~ If it’s someone like Sebek though, I feel like Malleus would think that it would be beneficial for Sebek to masturbate every now and then – this boy is too pent up.

#replies #headcanons

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longlivejemily · 7 hours ago

Text

After Office Hours p.2

Read Part 1 here!

Pairing: Professor!Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader continues to receive more extra credit at office hours with Professor Reid.

WC: 2.5k

Warning: Student/teacher relationship, slight sub/dom dynamics, semi-public sex, fingering (f receiving), hair pulling (f receiving), use of “baby,” “little girl,” and y/n. plz let me know if I’m missing any!

You spent 3 days with Dr. Reid being the only thing on your mind. Replaying Thursday night over and over and over. It was the last thing you thought of when you fell asleep, and the first thing you thought of when you woke up. The morning after you planned to study most of the day, so much for that. The image of him underneath you, holding you as you came undone is persistent in staying at the front of your mind. You spent at least an hour and a half zoned out imagining all the ways next week's office hours could go. Don’t show up before 7. What did he mean by that? What’s going to happen after office hours this week?

Your criminology class is the only one you have on Mondays. You spent most of the day getting ready for his lecture. You took that time to pay more attention to your hair, makeup, and outfit. Taking one last look in the mirror before you left, you questioned if you did too much. Curled hair, winged liner, and so much jewelry to the point that you’re sparkling. At the last minute, you brush out your curls. Deciding to trade these fresh barrel curls for a light wave that will be easy to toss over your shoulder. You take off some of the jewelry, this is your criminology class, not a red carpet.

With every step closer to his door, your anxiety grows. You sit in your normal seat, the third row back in the center. When he walks in, he glances towards you for just a second, and that is the only time he acknowledges you all day.

You are more distracted than ever before in his class. 4 days ago he was still an object of your fantasies. Now you know how his hands feel on your body, how his voice sounds as he talks you through your orgasm. He talks with his hands when he lectures, you’ve never hated it until today.

All day you were falling behind in your notes. At one point he misspelled on the chalkboard and wiped away his mistake with his pointer and middle finger. Imagining those two fingers inside you had you lost in your dreams for at least 5 minutes. You regained consciousness and were focused on the material for all of 45 seconds when he decided to sit on his desk. Your eyes were laser-focused on his crotch while he subtly man-spread. Is he doing these things just to fuck with you? It was hard to say, he never made eye contact. As he would scan the room his eyes would skip yours.

Was he trying to hide his attraction? Maybe if he didn’t look at you nothing ever happened? You felt a fire in the pit of your stomach. Not sexual tension, something else. Jealousy? You noticed his eyes linger on the front row which was all girls just auditing. They were there oogle at your professor for 3 hours a week and then had the audacity to come to office hours. Because they were auditing, their questions weren’t about the class and criminology, but about his social life and where he spends his free time. Hoping to get a glance at the professor when he wasn’t in teaching mode.

You never liked those girls, they were distracting, and couldn’t care less about criminology or profiling. But now, you hate them. You want his glances at them to be towards you instead. You want to giggle at his jokes and have his eyes meet yours with a smile. How did one hour with him make you so possessive?

“That’s all for today, class. We’ll pick up where we left off on Wednesday. Please read chapters 12 and 13 in preparation.” As soon as he uttered that last word, you were out of there.

–

Your Wednesday class with Dr. Reid went the same as the class before. He simply ignored you. In hopes of getting his attention, you wore the same thing to class as you did during office hours last week. You arrive at class before him and when he walks in and sees you, he pauses for a moment, sucks in a breath, and continues his walk to his desk. Thanks to him you weren’t the only one with profiling skills. You noticed the slight change in his step and knew you had him hooked. Too bad he's not hooked enough that he still ignored you for all of class. Every time you raised your hand to answer a question he called on someone else. You’ve always been a jealous person, but this is something else. Possession, obsession, you needed to make him yours. This ‘game’ he was playing was getting really annoying.

–

You were an anxious mess for most of Thursday. You didn’t absorb any knowledge from your classes and skipped your study sessions with some classmates due to your zombie-like behavior. Not a zombie focused on brains, but Professor Reid. You even skipped your stats class due to worries that you would get out even later and miss your office hours with Dr. Reid.

You traded your usual mini skirts for a knee-length one, which is more comfortable for your lack of underwear. You’re wearing thigh-high stockings with Mary Jane’s and a chunky sweater. Under the sweater, you have an extremely thin lace bra. You shaved your entire body this morning to get ready for him. Your makeup is gorgeous but mild, and completely waterproof. You have no idea how tonight is going to go, got to be prepared!

The click of your heels down the hallway and the blood rushing in your ears are the only things you can hear on the walk to Dr. Reid’s office. You take a deep breath to ground yourself before you turn the corner of his hallway. It’s 7:05 and you hang out for a few moments outside his door. You pretend to read a plaque on the wall that lists the prominent people to have come out of your university. You are trying to look busy in case another student exits his office. After 5 minutes of reading the names of old white men, you get the courage to knock on his door. You only have to wait a few moments after knocking for him to appear in front of you. Your neck snaps up to meet his eyes as a shy smile appears on both of your faces. “Y/N! Thank you for coming to office hours, welcome.” He steps to the side letting you enter, locking the door behind him just as last time.

Hearing the click of the lock sends heat straight to your core. You have to resist the urge to climb him like a tree. Instead, you both sit across from each other, the desk and thick air of sexual tension the only thing between you. You are having deja vu from last week as he asks, “What can I do for you?” Earth-shattering rough sex would be just fine, you think to yourself. “Yeah I do have a question about class this week, were you having fun teasing me?” He licks his lips and avoids eye contact. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He says with a gulp.

“Oh fess up professor.” You say while standing and walking over to the other side of his desk. You sit atop it facing him while keeping your ankles crossed. You don’t want to tip him off about your lack of underwear just yet. You flash a smile at him while touching his knee with the side of your foot. “Okay,” he says with a sigh. “I wasn’t teasing you. Not on purpose, at least. I felt that if I acknowledged you, for some reason everyone would know about us.” You blush at his last syllable as he continues. “This job is very important to me, it gives me purpose. But also I can’t get you out of my head. I was afraid of my glances lingering too long and tipping someone off. I traded my glances at you for glances at the auditors in the front row. I was looking at them, but only thinking about you.”

You smirk at the subtle shade he throws at the girls who are paying to look at him twice a week. “Less talking about the girls in the front row, let's move forward with how I can gain some extra credit.” You say while uncrossing your ankles. He is immediately peaking underneath your skirt. He starts to blush when he meets your eyes and knows he's been caught. “Dr Reid you don’t have to sneak a peak, just ask,” you say in a seductive tone while slowly spreading your legs. He slightly rolls his chair back to get a better view. He sees something shiny between your thighs. It takes a moment for him to realize that it's your slick catching the low light in his office. When he realises you skipped on underwear he grunts and stands up. He stands in between your spread thighs and puts his strong hands on your waist. “No underwear huh?” You blush and look away.

He takes a hand and grabs your chin to look up at him. “You’re brave walking around campus like that.” “What can I say? You’re worth the risk.” Those suggestive words make Spencer lose all of his control. He grips your face with both of his hands and kisses you with fervor and passion. You kiss him back with the pent-up feelings you’ve been having all semester. You’ve never been kissed like this, it’s like he wants to swallow you whole. His tongue is tasting all of you like a man starved. When you pull back for air he doesn’t stop, just lowers his head and continues his assault on your neck. Sucking on your pulse point causes you to let out a moan, and he moans back.

His eyes meet yours and he eagerly says, “Can I touch you?” “Please.” His lips find your neck again and he wastes no time putting his fingers to your clit. You moan immediately and he catches your mouth with his. He whispers against your lips, “Shh baby can’t have anyone hearing you. Gotta be quiet for me.” You nod eagerly and he continues devouring your neck. You have always had a fascination with his hands; feeling them against your most sensitive spot is quite literally a dream come true.

You pull him back up from your neck and connect your lips once again. You can’t get enough of him. His tongue dances with yours naturally, like muscle memory. As he draws shapes over your nerves your mind goes blank with bliss. Dr. Reid is taking up all of your senses. It’s as though he’s all you’ve ever known. You could die right now and be okay with it.

You start to feel that familiar heat in your abdomen, feeling shocked at how quickly he got you here. A man has never been this successful with you before. Dr. Reid plunges two fingers inside of you unexpectedly, and you moan loudly into his mouth. He pauses his movements to whisper, “Be quiet little girl I’m not gonna tell you again.” It’s so hard to stay quiet with his beautiful hands in you and his perfect lips on you. If his fingers feel this good you can’t imagine how good his dick is going to feel. The way he’s slamming his fingers into you has tears of joy pricking at the corners of your eyes. You’re gripping the edge of his desk tight as if this moment will disappear when you let go.

As his long fingers fill you up just right, his palm meets your clit in a delicious way. “Oh god doctor don’t stop” you instinctively moan. “Never baby, this is -oh- all for you.” He’s getting off by just providing you pleasure, you wonder how well this will benefit you in the future. His free hand grabs a handful of hair and pulls your head back. “Is this what you wanted little girl? Gave a ruse of extra credit just so I could fuck you with my hand?” You’re too drunk on him to form a coherent response, a string of moans pours out of your mouth instead. “I thought you were a smart girl huh? did I fuck you stupid?” No response, just a breathy moan.

He feels your pussy tightening on him, “Oh my god Dr. Reid.” “Come for me, baby.” He starts kissing you again as you come. You truly thought this could only happen in your dreams. Making out with Dr. Reid while he finger-fucks you and you’re cumming all over his hands. Your vision goes white and you feel your soul rise out of your body. This is the best orgasm you’ve ever had. When you come back to earth, Dr. Reid's hand is still in your pussy and he is still kissing you. Your lips are barely moving at this point but he doesn’t care, he just wants to keep tasing you.

You pull back from him and look at him amazed. He looks back at you concerned but then you just smile. You see him start to relax. “You okay?” “More than okay,” you say with a giggle. “Thank you, professor. That was truly educational.” “Oh yeah? What’d you learn?” “How your hands feel when they’re inside of me. It was even better than I hoped.” He smiles and gives you a quick kiss and grabs both of your hands. “Can you stand?” As you slide off his desk your knees buckle a little but the Doctor catches you and helps you stand up straight. “Sorry, I thought I’d fully recovered.” “Are you going to be okay getting home, y/n?” “Yeah, my apartment is only like a 10-minute walk.”

“A ten-minute walk for someone your age is about half a mile! Please let me take you home.” “It’s okay Dr. Reid it’s a safe campus and I’m always aware of my surroundings.” “I don’t know it’s kind of late.” “I do this walk all the time when it’s dark. I’ll let my roommates know I’m coming home and to watch my location. I’ll be okay I promise.” He raises an eyebrow at you. He steps away from you for the first time since you got here to dig through his desk drawer. He pulls out sticky notes and a pen and jots something down quickly. “This is my cell phone number. Please text me once you’re home.”

You are screaming on the inside when you grab the paper from him and your fingertips brush. Dr. Reids phone number!!! No way this is actually happening. You grab your bag and sling it over your shoulder before you say goodbye. “Thank you, Dr. Reid. This was fun.” “It’s always a pleasure Ms. y/l/n. Same time next week?” “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” You smile, turn away from him, and walk out the door.

a/n: thank you all so much for your support on this story! It means so much to me and makes me want to continue writing. Sorry this took so long, I had so many ideas it was hard to decide on which way to go with this story. Please keep liking and sharing and I would love more ideas!

Taglist: @beansarecooler @bubbleebubz thank you ily

#softdom!spencer #professor!reid #professor!spencer reid #spencer reid #professor reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds fanfic #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid smut #soft dom spencer reid #professor reid smut

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razorblade180 · 1 day ago

Text

Quality Time

Citlali:*reading* hm!!?

Aether:*casually walks in* Hello!

Citlali:…I’m still not used to this.

Aether:I can give your key back if you want.

Citlali:I didn’t say it was a bad thing to get used to. Anyways, let me guess, Ororon told you to swing by at a specific time?

Aether:You did give me a letter, but it’s a little hard to know your sleepy schedule. I wanted to hand you your birthday gift properly.

Citlali:*red* Oh you didn’t have to get me any-

Aether:*pulls out wine* Boom, Dandelion Wine from the best Mondstadt has to offer.

Citlali:I’m starting to think you see me as an alcoholic.

Aether: Heh, “starting to?”

Citlali:Hey! I drink a normal amount and when I feel like it!

Aether:So you don’t want th-

Citlali:*politely grabs it* It’s bad manners to refuse a gift.

Aether:Hehe. So, birthday girl, have anything you want to do today. My schedule is clear.

Citlali:I’m staying home. No offense but birthdays lose a bit of meaning when you’re my age. There’s nothing for an hold hang like me to do that I haven’t.

Aether:First, I’m older than you and I love my birthday. Don’t think about them all at once, but all the moments you had for the year.

Citlali:Well…I guess when you put it like that, there’s a lot to remember about this year.

Aether:Ending a war is a pretty big deal.

Citlali:Yeah but that’s a moment for everyone. I was referring to meeting someone who’s…rather interesting.

Aether:*red* Aww, thank you.

Citlali:I didn’t say it was- ugh, who am I kidding?

Aether:So, young lady, what are you up for? It’s your special day. I’ll listen to any request.

Citlali:…My social battery is pretty high today, so tolerating your antics wouldn’t be out of the question. I’m sure there’s plenty of light novels we could discuss. Plus…*shakes bottle* No way I’m finishing this alone.

Aether:So you want me to stay here with you all day?

Citlali:*red* Y-You said you were free? It doesn’t have to be until tomorrow or anything crazy. I…look, I want to talk to someone okay! You! I would like to just talk with you and I don’t know, not think about anything else.

Aether:*smiles* I’ll get the glasses. *walks to kitchen*

Citlali:You’re a real piece of work; ya know that? Don’t blame me if you get a bit drunk. If you can’t keep up, then tap out. Not everyone can handle their liquor like me.

xxxxxx

Citlali:*waking up* Uuuuugh, my head. *sits up* Mmmghggh, damn it. Seriously, what the heck is wrong with me!? After all of my bravado too. *looks left* What’s even the t-

Aether:*in the bed*Zzzzzzzz

��……

Citlali:Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck

Citlali:Wait! *looks down* My clothes are fine. Good! That’s good! Nothing happened! Makes sense. I probably got drunk before he did. He probably just brought me to bed. *pulls down cover*

Aether:*bruised up*

Citlali:WHAT DID I DO TO HIM!?

Several hours earlier

Aether:Please, Citlali, your grip! I’m not your pillow!

Citlali:Don’t leave. Stay the night with me~

Aether:Okay! But free my ribs.

Citlali:Pro-hic-mise first! Don’t leave me. I…wanna see you when I wake. I don’t want just the memories…

Aether:…I promise. I’ll be right here.

Citlali:*holds him close* Gooooood. You have no idea how much I…much I li..zzzzz

Aether:Why does she hug harder than Itto!?

#genshin impact #gi citlali #gi aether #aelali

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in1-nutshell · 6 hours ago

Note

Hi! Can we get more Nova and Bumblebee please?

Maybe Bumblebee starts too realize slowly about Nova and his own feeling.

The pinning has finally finished!

Hope you enjoy!

Bumblebee and Nova confess?

SFW, Platonic, Romance, Cybertronian reader

Raoul was sick and tired of hearing about the drama Tracks had.

Now normally he would be all in for hearing about bot stories from the flying car, but lately it had turned into an endless rant about how it was going to probably take the ending of the war to get Bumblebee and Nova to confess.

He had had enough!

Raoul: “Tracks, I love ya man, but can you PLEASE talk about anything else besides those two!” Tracks: “Well, no one is asking you to stay.” Raoul: “I’m just tryina hear abou da new stuff on base and here ya are talking about Bee and Bova! I’m sick of it!” Tracks just huffs at this. Raoul: “I swear. Ya know what? I bet I can get those two bozos together faster than you can drive.” Tracks: “Yeah right. No offense Raoul but those two are as dense as your skull.” Raoul: “Some offense taken. Then let’s make things interesting. If I can get them together on an actual date by the end of the month, you have ta drive and fly me for a week.” Tracks: “Raoul if you get them to go on a date, I’ll drive and fly you anywhere for a month.” Raoul: “Deal!”

Raoul has most of the basics down on both bots… but apparently completely forgot that she was a dinobot.

Bit of a surprise, but you know what, he is still doing this.

Cranks up all his confidence and swagger in his body up by 100 the moment he steps out of Track’s alt mode.

He heads straight to the bot, who was happily chatting with Bumblebee.

Raoul: “Yo what’s up?” Nova looks down in surprise. Nova: “Hello? Who you?” Raoul: “The name’s Raoul, gorgeous. I’mma a friend of Tracks.” She was pretty for a bot, but not his type. Nova: “Tracks friend?” Raoul: “Yes siree. I’ve heard a ton about ya Nova, especially about ya being a dinobot, and being strong. I’d sure like ta see a cutie like you in action.” Nova smiles at him. Nova: “Nova can show friend Raoul! Come! Come!” Raoul and Nova happily talk as they make their way out of the Ark. Every bot who witnessed this: “…” Prowl: “What was that?” Jazz: “I think I need Ratchet to check my optics…” Blaster turns to Tracks: “I didn’t know Raoul was into bots.” Tracks: “He isn’t!” Bumblebee was standing in the same place trying to process what had just happened. Bumblebee: “That was… weird?” Grimlock is slowly blinking and trying to wrap around his processor how this new human took away his scout from the love of her life. Grimlock: “Me Grimlock can’t handle love triangle today…”

No one has any idea what just happened.

And this is not the end of it.

Nova was out with her new friend almost every day.

She always seemed to be by the humans side from patrol routes to hang out spots.

There was a clear trust gained within those couple of days.

Raoul went from walking by her side, to sitting on top of her helm in dino mode.

A sign of extreme trust.

New bets are made in the betting pool concerning whether Bee or Raoul would end up going out with Nova.

Grimlock is just watching all of this from afar and banging his helm.

Ratchet and Wheeljack are trying to stop him from making a hole in the Ark with his helm slamming.

Bumblebee has no idea what to think about this.

He was so used to having Nova close by, it felt wrong to have her so far.

Sure, they had been separated before on missions and when on different patrol routes, but this was different.

She was giving Raoul HIS smiles!

Wait—what did he just say?

Bumblebee wakes up at 3 in the morning as the Brick of Love had hit him square in the face. He liked Nova. He liked his best friend. Bumblebee: “Oh Sweet Primus…” He gets up and walks a bit around the Ark. Jazz was dragging Prowl to the berth when they both spot Bumblebee. Jazz: “Bee? You okay man? It’s kinda late for a stroll.” Prowl: “Did something happen?” Bumblebee: “I just had a realization, that’s all.” Prowl: “What is it?” Bumblebee looks a bit nervous. Bumblebee: “Promise you won’t laugh?” Both mech nod and wait. Bumblebee: “I think I like Nova... like more than a friend.” Prowl and Jazz: “…” Prowl vents and face palms. Prowl: “Thank Primus I thought it was serious.” Bumblebee: “What?” Jazz brings him to a side hug. Jazz: “Congrats Bee. You’re the last to know.” Bumblebee: “Wait? It was that obvious?” Prowl: “Bumblebee, everyone knows Nova has feelings for you.” Bumblebee: “…Even Grimlock?” Jazz: “Especially Grimlock.”

After some encouraging words from the two Bee walked back to his berth.

He did try to go back to sleep but couldn’t.

After the realization, he needed to talk to Nova.

It could have been his last chance if Raoul hadn’t taken that too.

In hindsight, he knew it was probably not a good idea to sneak into the dinobots quarters.

Most of them slept in their dino modes in a circle or giant pile.

Why a pile? He didn’t know and it didn’t look comfy either.

Thank Primus it was circle today.

As carefully and quietly as he could he sneaked to Nova’s side and gently tapped her helm.

Her optics slowly opened as she let out a yawn.

He told her in a hushed voice to follow him.

Not yet understanding everything, she let the yellow bot grab her servo and lead her away from the circle.

The pair was now outside the Ark as the first signs of the sun started showing in the sky. Nova yawns again finally noticing how Bumblebee hadn’t let go of her servo. Her frame started heating up. Nova: “Why Bumblebee bring Nova outside? It very early.” Bumblebee: “Well… You see I…umm… Nova I…” Nova looked at the yellow mech now concerned. Nova: “Something wrong?” Bumblebee: “No its just… You know what I’m just going to say it!” Nova: “Bumblebee?” Bumblebee: “I like you! I like you a lot!” Nova froze in place. She tilted her helm at him with near pleading optics. Nova: “Is that true? You like like Nova?” Bumblebee nods before looking down embarrassed, missing the new brightness in her optics. Bumblebee: “I think I have for a while but never acted until Raoul came.” Nova: “Friend Raoul? Why? He is friend.” Bumblebee: “Really? I thought maybe you two had something—” CLANK! The smaller mech was suddenly trapped in a tight hug by the taller dinobot. She curled her tail around his pedes as her chassis made a low purring noise. Nova: “Raoul is friend. Nova like like Bumblebee only.” Bumblebee let out a laugh of relief as he hugged her back. They broke from the hug and opted to sit next to each other and wait for the sun to rise. Meanwhile in the Ark… Grimlock wakes up first and notices Nova’s spot empty. Grimlock: “Nova? Nova! Swoop! Snarl! Sludge! Slag! Where Nova at!?”

While having several panicky dinobot’s wake up everyone wasn’t the best start for most of the bots on base, it was worth it when they saw Bee and Nova holding servos.

Both with the same lovesick look on each other’s faces.

It finally happened!

There was much rejoice that the two had finally confessed and announced they weren’t going to be available in the evening.

Grimlock is now torn between celebrating or giving Bee the shovel talk that he has seen on TV.

… Probably celebrate first, then talk.

And a happy Raoul got his rides for an entire month.

#maccadam #transformers x reader #bot buddy #transformers g1 x platonic reader #g1 x platonic reader #transformers g1 x reader #nova #nova x bumblebee

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dalamjisung · 6 hours ago

Text

A muted shade of green ✧ Chapter 9: His angel girl

genre: comfort, smut (minor do not interact!!)

word count: 5902

pairing: reader x spencer reid

description: you two take a step into getting back to normal... or at least trying.

a muted shade of green masterlist

previous chapter // next chapter

would like to welcome all the new readers and to dedicate this chapter to the beautiful @starofthedawn who's been reading and commenting on my chapters since the beginning <3 thank you for your undying support love! means the world!

“Happy Monday!”

You want to shoot her in the head. You want to turn around, grab Officer Kaper’s gun from his holster, and shoot her in the head, and you want to stop wanting to shoot her in the head. For someone who probably had the most magical Sunday of her life, you are not in such great mood once the consequences of sleeping a total of two hours sets in. Spencer deals with it much better than you, and you wince just remembering how snippy you were when he woke you up with the same kisses that had you moaning just hours ago. Lucky for you, though, he only laughs and pushes a full mug of coffee your way. Spencer knows you well despite the little time you two have been living together. But then again, if he really tries, Spencer would know anyone well.

“Ah, happy Monday,” You say, shooting Officer Kaper a look that has him snorting. “Did you have any questions about the starter email? Sorry it wasn’t super in depth, it’s my first time hiring someone to help me.”

“That is absolutely okay, I’m sure I can learn a lot from you today!”

It should be exciting, finally having the store open full time and with help to keep it functioning, but you’re just so exhausted that you can’t find it in you to be your usual cheery self. Not when just hours ago, you were feeling like you had endless energy, charging through Spencer’s touches.

After JJ left his apartment, quite begrudgingly, you must admit, you two finally have some time to breathe. It sounds cliche, really, cheering for the moments you two can be together without an audience, but lately, there has been so few of them that it’s almost impossible to not turn selfish when they come about. And my god, are you selfish then… Spencer can’t move to the kitchen without you following him. But to your credit, he doesn’t seem to be all that comfortable with moving away from you either, and that is how you two end up in his room, digging through his mismatched socks drawer with so much gusto that it might just look like you found the long lost treasure of Atlantis.

“You have no matching socks!” You giggle, shivering a little when you feel his presence behind you. His breath hits your nape, and Spencer drops a gentle kiss there. “Sweetheart, do I need to buy you socks?”

“No,” He mumbles and just by the tone of his voice you know he’s distracted with dragging his lips through your neck, biting, kissing, grazing. Spencer is having his own fun with you, one that has nothing to do with the fact that your feet are freezing and his heater seems to be giving up on getting his apartment at a liveable temperature. When you ask him to look into it, he chuckles and tells you that he can fix it, that he will fix it. This, however, doesn’t look like he’s fixing it. “But you can keep calling me sweetheart.”

Cocking your head to the side, giving him more space to work his magic. Something inside of you keens at the way he grabs at your waist, pulling you closer and keeping you there with a demanding attitude that is new and welcome, and you wonder if this has anything to do with how he finally spoke out. Taking control of a situation is always somewhat of a thrill, and you think Spencer is basking in his newfound confidence by pushing it a little further.

Not that you are complaining. Much to the contrary– a sharp exhale leaves your lips the moment he brushes those teasing lips on the junction of your neck and your shoulder, and you can feel the way he smirks, doing it again just to draw a whine out of you. “Spence,” Your voice goes all high pitched with the way he adds pressure with each kiss, the way his hands slide from holding you by the waist to encircling you completely. “Spence, what are you doing?”

His chuckle sends another wave of shudders through you. “I’m not letting anyone take you away from me,” He whispers back, taking one step, then another, and another, until your knees push against the edge of his mattress and his kissed turn into light suckles travelling all around. At this point, you get yourself ready for the bruises you can feel blooming on your skin. “I’m never letting anyone take you away from me, I promise, angel. My angel girl…”

One day, when you think back to this moment, you’ll blame the ‘my angel girl’ for the way you so quickly clambered up to bed, hands grabbing him by that tie he insists on wearing even inside the house and tugging him down with a force you’ll probably never be able to conjure ever again. You’ll blame the ‘pretty girl’ and the ‘my Y/N’. You’ll blame the way his eyes plead, oh so quietly but never subtly, for you to get closer, to kiss him harder. You’ll blame him and his pretty lips, his pretty skin, his pretty legs.

Everything about his is pretty, and you can’t help the excitement growing in you with each button undone. Oh, the amount of times you’ve dreamt of unbuttoning these shirts he religiously wears, uncovering inch of skin by inch of skin, dropping a kiss in every new bit of him that you get to see. Spencer is not as quiet as you thought he’d be– he rambles, and pants, and moans, and you smile because you know you’re the one dragging these sinful noises out of him, and you know that this show is all for you and you only. Spencer is not far behind though, and his hands are as equally busy– they pull, tug, rip, unzip; they do all they can until you’re left in your mismatched underwear and him, only in his boxer briefs. For some odd reason, you’re slightly disappointed that his tight underwear, outlining those beautiful thighs of his, are not purple.

It’s cute, how his cheeks blush when his eyes land on your breasts, even if they seem stuck there for a while. “Spence,” You whisper, hand raising to caress his cheek. You are blushed yourself, redness going down your neck and chest, but you don’t mind it much, not when he seems to follow down the path of shyness you’ve created like it was the map to heaven. “Spence, is… is this okay?”

“So much more than okay,” Spencer whispers back, face turning gently to kiss the palm of your hand cupping his cheek. “Is this okay for you?”

“So much more than okay,” You agree, smiling wide and pulling him down for another ravenous kiss. Like an instinct, your legs move to wrap around his waist, squeezing until every bit of him presses against every bit of you.

And then you feel him, hot and heavy, and you exhale a sharp breath that has him jumping, trying to put some distance between you two as if he had somehow hurt you. “Are you okay?! Are you–“ You shut him up effectively with one more pull by the legs, hips dragging your heart against him and having him exhale as sharp as you.

Raising your brow in a silent challenge, you mutter, “Are you okay?” With every word your lips brush against his and for once, in a long, long time, you feel good about yourself. You feel powerful, in command… sexy. The last time a man looked at you the way Spencer is looking at you had been years ago, and it hadn’t even been Josh. Josh never looked at you like that, like you could solve all his issues and pains with just one kiss, no, no; Josh looked at you like a challenge. A task. An objective. You never want to be looked at like that ever again.

No. For the rest of your life, all you want is for Spencer to look at you like he’s doing right now. Specifically him, because if it’s not coming from those melting, honey eyes, you don’t want it. “Oh,” You breathe out, too lost in your head to have felt his hand moving upwards from your waist to sneak under your bra, nimble fingers squeezing it in an experimenting feel. From the way he bends down to kiss you, other hand rushing to unclasp the garment and throw it somewhere in the room, it must feel really fucking good. He takes it to a whole other level, though, when his lips– those lips you adore so much, that you spent hours watching move and talk and lecture– wrap around a perk nipple. “Oh, Spence…”

Sex is incredibly intimate for you. Is an act of giving and taking and giving back, and it’s a constant exchange that leaves you floating, on good times; on bad ones, it makes you feel as heavy as a rock. Just from his kisses alone you already feel weightless, so you know that from now on, there is only great things coming. Great things like how he grinds his hips down on you, catching onto your most sensitive spot again and again and again, and you’re not sure when was it that you desperately pulled his boxers down, but when you come back to yourself, climbing down from the building pleasure of having Spencer humping you like an uncontrolled teenager, you have him stark naked… and you’ll dream of this for the rest of your life.

Naked Spencer is not the most confident, but he’s not coy about it either. In all fairness, you don’t think his brain, usually brilliant and expansive and now working in a one-track mind, is able to juggle a lot at the moment, and you chuckle at how awkwardly endearing he looks. One hand moves to push his hair our of his face, basking into the way he smiles at you, so brightly and larger than life. “You’re beautiful,” You whisper, forehead resting against his. “So beautiful…”

“I’m afraid that would be you, darling angel,” Spencer kisses you quickly rubbing his hands on your arms, your back. “So pretty for me… all mine.”

“All yours,” You agree, arching into his touch. It’s not possessiveness that you catch in his voice, but desperation. Fear. Need. Spencer is not dominating you, he’s not taking and taking and taking; he’s simply going along with a pace that is set by the both of you. You two are like water, moulding to each other, soft yet strong. No one has more power than the other, and no one commends nor obeys. This is a collaboration of two weirdly shy people trying to push past their natural hesitations to make something beautiful.

Your hand slides down his chest, between your bodies, and grabs a hold of his cock. For a man that despised touch, Spence let out an eager groan, pushing his hips up towards your touch, and you whine. You want to be touched too, and he catches on instantly. Your sweet profiler, reading you even when his eyes could barely focus on yours. “So good,” He said, clumsy mouth trying to kiss yours while speaking. “So fucking good.”

Just when you thought it couldn’t get better, Spencer curses, the word so foreign to him that you can’t help the rush of excitement that runs through you right there and then. Spencer knows, too, with how he gently slides his hand under your panties, finger diving into your wetness shamelessly. “So fucking good.”

There is not embarrassment in how loudly the sounds your body makes echoes in the room. Mixed with both your breathing, your moans, and the way your skin hits so perfectly, the sound of your eagerness is just another instrument in the symphony of you guys’ pleasure. “Spence, come on,” You whine again.

When you try to push your underwear down your legs, Spence gently slaps your hand away, tutting at you with a glint of mischievousness. Instead, he hooks his own fingers on the sides of it and makes a point of dragging it down as slow as possible. By the time he has your legs up in the air and finally gets it off of you, you are wiggling in place. “Stay still,” He gently admonishes you, nipping at your ankle that rests on his shoulder. It’s almost like Spencer is adamant on killing you slowly, keeping you teetering at the edge of a precipice created by him and him only. It’s up to him to push you over. Safe to say, with the way his lips slowly move from you ankle, down your legs, inching closer and closer to where you want him the most, you are as good as dead already, now it was all about enjoying the ride. “I want to make sure I commit this to memory.”

“Y-You have an eidetic memory, S-Spencer– oh my god,” Your voice wobbles a little at the first touch of his mouth to your folds. Despite your… occasional dirty dream of Spencer, you had no expectations for this at all. After your conversation with Penelope, it was obvious that your beautiful nerd hadn’t had the most common teenage-hood. He had never experienced those marks of growing up– had never made out under a bleacher, never passed notes to his friends during class, never put a sock on the door of his dorm. Besides Lila and Maeve, you know nothing about his past relationships, and you found Lila’s name because of an article that leaked a photo of them kissing on a pool. Sure, you weren’t all that glad to now have the picture of Spencer kissing someone else ingrained in your brain, but it made you happy to know he had people appreciating him for all he is, before you.

So safe to say it surprises you to know that Spencer knows how to use his mouth, and knows it well. Part of you wants to look at him, watch him eat you out like the starved man he apparently is and try, your damned hardest, to never forget it. Unlike him, you’re but a mere human that, at the moment, is so lost in pleasure that you’re not even sure if you remember your name. Doesn’t take long to have you shaking in his hands, legs trembling around his head and hips pinned down by his hands. “Let go,” Spencer whispers, opening his eyes just for a second, just to catch a glimpse of your face as he licks you whole, just right until he’s able to wrap those lips– those sinful lips– around your clit. That is your undoing, and before you can even warn him, your thighs snap closed around his head and you cum, moaning Spencer’s name like he is the prayer that will keep you alive.

“Hmmm,” He brings you back to life with the soft little trail of kisses he drops on his way back up. In his tongue there are traces of you, of your taste, of your soul, and you are addicted with well it mixes with him. “You truly are sweet, angel.”

“And tomorrow, I’ll figure out how sweet you are,” It’s a promise and one that you full intend to keep, though right now you truly think you will go insane if you don’t feel him like how you’ve been yearning to all night. “But right now, I really need you to–“

“To what?” He asks when your voice dies down, suffocated by the sudden feel of his cock rubbing against you just right. “Hm? What do you need, angel girl? Tell me and I’ll do anything for you…”

Seeing Spencer so lost in pleasure is something new. His hair looks wild and his eyes are hungry and curious, focused on you and you only. He catches every reaction, every little twitch of your hips, every breathy whine; Spencer memorises everything. This will be stored in a little box inside his head, for those nights alone in strange hotel rooms in even stranger cities. For the afternoons with too little work and too many insecurities clouding his head. For the mornings when you leave before him and he can’t make you whine his name like you’re doing right now. His name… my god, his name is all he wants to hear coming out of your mouth; his name and those little gasps that send jolts of electricity up and down his spine. When you look up at him, arms going around his shoulder to pull him down for a kiss Spencer is smiling. It’s bright and wide and true and you think– no, no you know– and you know you’re falling in love with this man.

You hike a leg up his waist, brushing yourself all over him, and you smile back. It doesn’t last long, though, because Spencer chooses that moment to push inside of you, biting your shoulder in a failed attempt to hide the guttural groan rising up his throat. “Holy shit,” You mumble, eyes threatening to close. This is all very overwhelming– in the best way possible, surely, but still overwhelming. There is the sting of stretching grounding you, but it quickly dissolves into a pleasurable burn and you are sure you’re experiencing the best of both worlds, floating in an in-between space midway to heaven from Earth.

Ever since Cat found out your name, you’ve been living in fear. Every day, every night, you can feel the thrumming of anxiety running through your veins– sometimes stronger, like your heart is about to beat itself out of your throat, and sometimes weaker, more of a hum in the back of your ribs; but it’s always there.

Except for now.

Right now, you feel nothing.

You are drowning in a world of silence, in a motionless state of being…

…until Spencer snaps his hips at you again and you feel more than you’ve felt your entire life.

You feel alive.

On fire.

Burning.

Like every nerve in your body has been ignited, like your brain is working overtime, like the air in your lugs have been punched out of your body.

You feel so much that you can’t even begin to put into words. But you don’t have to speak, not when Spencer whispers those sweet nothings into your ear as if he’s not filthily moving his hips and driving himself so deep into you you basically see start. “So pretty, my angel,” He whines, mouthing at your neck. “So good for me, feels so good, pretty girl. So perfect.” In his words, promises lay unsaid. Promises of love, adoration, fondness. Promises of kindness, gentleness, safety. “I got you, Y/N, I got you. I promise.”

Nodding, you let your nails drag down his back, the sounds of it all getting a bit too much for you to handle. Spencer’s hoarse voice, the slap of his skin on yours, the breathy moans he lets out; everything seems to be getting to you, and you hope this never ends. You hope to feel like this for the rest of your life, like you don’t have to have a single worry in life, because Spencer’s got you.

“Spencer,” You cry out, pulling him for a sloppy kiss. You two are a mess of tongues and teeth and lips and the more he fills you up, the more he pushes into the you, the more you’re willing to fall, fall, fall… and you so you fall. “Oh! Spencer!”

Your orgasm washes over you like a crashing wave, approaching fast and silently but crashing loudly once it hits shore. It’s a surprise to you and apparently to him too, from how he groans the loudest he has so far. You tense up for a second or two or three or maybe even an eternity, squeezing around him oh so perfectly, enough to make him falter, arms giving out and almost having his whole body crash onto you. In his own desperation to cum, Spencer speeds up in such a delicious way that it feels like you’re in a never ending downward spiral, pussy fluttering around him until he pushes into you one last time. “Y/N…” Spencer moaned, keeping himself quiet with how hard he bites your neck, tensing as he let his pleasure wash over him in jerky movements of his hips before completely stopping.

Slowly but surely, he pulls out of you, laying by your side looking completely spent with a lingering hand on your waist. Takes him a bit, but eventually, Spencer gathers enough strength to pull you to him, kissing your forehead lovingly. “You’re… everything,” He breathes out, eyes running over your face to commit it to memory, to engrave it in a type of forever that only he knows. His own forever. You are his very own forever. “Is it too corny to say thank you?”

You laugh and look up at him. “Depends,” Cuddling closer, you let your lips graze over his ear. “Are you thanking me for a job well done?”

“Hmmm,” His chuckle reverberates through you. “A job very well done, sweetheart, yes.”

“Then no, it’s not corny,” You giggle, trowing a leg over his waist. “But as an academic, I don’t think your sample is large enough to be reaching any conclusions yet, doctor.”

“Oh, no, no, I’m not concluding anything yet,” Spencer shivers a little at your teasing joke, eyes darkening in a way that is surely becoming familiar to your. His little smile is enough to have you pushing yourself closer to him, kissing his neck gently. “I am making an inference. An inference is an educated guess, and based on that, I form a hypothesis.”

“And what’s your hypothesis here, doc?”

Clearing his throat, Spencer lets out a breathy hum and tugs you on top of him, thighs on each side of his waist so he can run his hands up and down your beautiful skin. “I think I need a bit more… education first, if you don’t mind.”

“Oh?” Cocking your head to the side, you smile brightly at him. “And how will you embark in this search for knowledge?”

“Give me twenty minutes and I’ll show you how, angel girl.”

In ten minutes he was kissing you all over again, muttering your name like a mantra. Y/N, Y/N, Y/N-

“Y/N?”

Your head snaps up to look at Abigail again, cheeks blushing when you realise where your mind had just gone. “Yes? Sorry Abi, what did you say?”

“We have a consumer, could you help me with the cashier system?” And when Abigail smiles, you’re back to your sour mood. Honestly, you feel for her– you feel like a massive bitch who hates on a girl for absolutely no reason, but considering everything that’s been happening, her enthusiasm sending you for a loop.

“Of course!” Doesn’t mean you won’t still try and be a good boss. This is, after all, a place of business. Walking to her, you guide your new store manager through everything she needs to know; the cashier system, the ordering and cataloguing inventory, the filing system on the shelves. Much to your dismay, Abigail is a quick learner and she’s eager to help, jumping into the action as soon as a client walks into the store. You’re quite grateful for that, now having time to actually focus on the administrative tasks you’ve been putting away for ages, and when the time comes to close the store, you look at her with the friendliest smile you can handle under the current exhaustion and soreness that took over your body overnight. “You did great,” You promise, locking the door behind you. “Honestly, I could already work that much better with you handling everything, thank you very much.”

“It was my pleasure!” Abigail smiled. “Will I be given a key for the days you’re not coming in?”

You didn’t think that far, but the thought made you shift a bit uncomfortably. Giving her entrance to the bookstore so freely means you’re giving her entrance to your apartment just upstairs. And besides Officer Kaper and the BAU team, no one knows where you live. The goal is to keep it that way. “We can cross that bridge when we get to it, for a while I intend on coming in every day to make sure your introduction to the store is smooth and seamless!”

“Sounds perfect!” When you finish locking the door, you turn around to find her waiting with an expectant expression. “I uh, I don’t mean to bother you boss, but how about some drinks to celebrate the first day? You can come over now that I’m fully decorated!”

The invite is kind, and as much as you really want to go home and kiss your boyfriend silly, you can’t. You can’t tell her no, not again and again and again, and to your surprise, and hers, you nod. “Yeah, why not? You deserve it. Should I stop at the store to buy anything?”

Quickly shaking her head, Abigail starts guiding you both back to the building calling your name. At least she lived a total of one floor away from Spencer. “No, no, I have everything back home to make some mojitos.”

“Then we’ll order some pizza,” You chuckle, following her inside and up the stairs. “On me!”

“Deal!”

Her apartment is strangely familiar. It looks a lot like Spencer’s, though you can’t help but miss the muted shade of green that adorn his walls, surrounded by a bright pit of white instead. Everything about her place screams single female; the neutral furniture, the romance books piling by the sides of the couch, the quirky decorations that bring some type of colour to the room, and the obvious excessive amount of throw pillows everywhere. “Sorry for the mess,” Abigail chuckles, closing the door behind you and immediately trying to organise the living room. But you see the charm in how it is, and you don’t really mind being in a house that looks like someone lives in.

“Don’t worry about me,” You wave at her. “I like being in a house that feels like a home.”

“Have you ever considered being a writer?” The question makes you laugh. “Sometimes you say some very poetic things and I swear they would sound great in a book.”

“I’m happy selling other people’s books,” Is all you give her, shrugging at her suspicious glance. “So… Pizza?”

You don’t want to admit it, but at one point, you start having fun. It’s right after the awkward talking time and just as the pizza arrives that you two start laughing together, giggling at crazy stories from her old jobs. For a moment, this feels right– feels like what a girl’s night should feel like, with the gossiping, the drinks, the greasy food, and the shitty romance movie playing in the background without you paying attention to it, besides a couple of comments on how Jude Law is so cute. “…And then he wrote his number on the receipt and gave it to me! The audacity!”

Abigail has just finished telling you the story of how she met her ex and you chuckle, shaking your head. “Honestly, I lucked out with my customers. You’ll see that soon, but so far, everyone’s been incredible. I had some horror stories from the stores I worked at back in Manhattan, but thankfully they haven’t followed me here.”

“Hmm,” Abigail is sitting in front of you, happily munching on her food while she squints at you. “Is that how you met Spencer Reid?”

You choke on a bite of crust and the way you have to wash it down with your mojito is ridiculous. The alcohol burns through your throat but at least you can breathe better. “Uh, Spence?”

“Yeah, Spencer Reid,” Abigail chuckles. “The neighbour upstairs. Your… something. Is he your boyfriend? You never really clarified.”

Blushing, you nod. “Yeah, that’s my boyfriend,” Saying those words out loud feels surreal, like you have suddenly added a seal of authentication to it all. “We’ve been– We are dating.”

“Oh,” This is the least enthusiastic you’ve seen her all night, and something tickles your brain. Is she disappointed that you two are officially dating? Is she into Spencer?! “Good to know. Uh, did you meet him at the store?”

“Yeah,” The mood quickly turns upside down and tension settles where laughter previously occupied. “We’ve been friends for a while, though, and I uh, I used to watch his apartment while he was out of town for work and he’d bring me books and–“

“Is he out of town a lot?” This. This is exactly why you always feel weird next to Abigail– her invasive questions. “For work, that is.”

“I–“ What are you supposed to say to that? Yes. He travels regularly and I’m constantly vulnerable and alone at his apartment? Absolutely not. “I mean, sometimes, but he can take cases from home.”

“Cases? What does he do again?”

“Oh,” You need to change the subject right now. “Spencer, he uh, he works with–“

You are not sure why you don’t want to tell her the truth, but you and Spencer had never discussed a story, a cover up; but then again, you two had never discussed being separated. A certain level of codependency has instilled thanks to the current situation, and it just makes sense to assume you’d always be together in social situations.

“Because Officer Kaper also knows him, right? He said something back at the store, and I was curious.”

Curiosity might have killed the cat, but Abigail is the one who will kill you. Cat knows Spencer works for the BAU, why would her partner be kept in the dark? Logically, nothing about this makes sense, and you might be overthinking and overreacting, but telling her about Spencer’s private life still feels wrong. Dirty. Like you’re breaking his trust just with a couple of words.

Gulping, you nod, looking around with a nervous chuckle. “He uh, he works in a governmental agency,” Taking a deep breath, you think of semantics, of words that mean the same thing but can be as vague and open-ended as possible. “Some team I forgot the name. You know how those things are, you can be as close as possible with someone and still not be able to tell what they do for a living.”

Her laughter is enough to have you breathing easier. “Oh my god! I so know what you mean… but when you really like someone, I think you remember the little things you know. Or at least I do. I still remember that book you mentioned on our first interview–“ Shuffling to grab something behind her, she shows you the cover of the book you mentioned a while back. “I’m halfway through and it’s absolutely incredible!”

Holding back the impetuous Spencer remembers everything that you so badly want to throw at her, you just chuckle. With every word Abigail speaks, it feels like she’s throwing a dig at either Spencer or your relationship with Spencer, and you’re not sure which one makes you angrier. “I’m glad you like it,” You say, and the buzz of your phone saves the day. It’s been buzzing for a bit, but you didn’t mind checking it much while you were having fun. Now that things have gone a tad south, you can’t wait to come up with an excuse to go home. “Sorry, let me just– oh… Abi, I’m sorry, but I think I need to go home.”

3 missed calls. 8 new messages. All from Spencer. Quickly helping her clean everything, you smiled. If this is going to work, you need to put in as much effort as Abigail is. You need to stop being afraid. You need to be honest with her. You need to do a lot… but not tonight. Tonight you’ve done enough.

“Thank you again for having me, this was actually fun,” You smile, giving her a quick hug before opening the door and stepping out onto the hallway. “We can go to work together tomorrow, if you want! Text me when you’re about to leave?”

“Oh!” That is enough to have her smiling wide. “Yes! Amazing, I will!”

One last wave and you’re running up the stairs, unlocking Apartment 23 with the key Spence gave you. “I’m so sorry!” You call out as soon as you’re inside, bag and shoes dropped by the door as soon as you spot him sitting on his couch. “Spence, I’m sorry, I forgot to tell you I was hanging out with Abigail after work and she made mojitos and we got pizza and–“

“Hey, hey hey hey, it’s okay, it’s alright,” Getting up, he walks to you and cups your cheeks, eyes searching for… something… in yours. “You’re okay?”

“I’m okay. Better now, but okay,” You mumble back, kissing his lips gently as a reassurance. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you I was going to Abigail’s.”

“You should’ve,” Spencer sighs, nodding with a small smile. “I was really worried… But then I called Garcia and she pulled the cameras, so I knew you were downstairs.”

“Uh… Babe, I don’t know if that’s the best use of–“

“I don’t care, I was going out of my mind,” His arms squeeze you closer and he hides his face on your neck. “I know you can’t be here 24/7, and we talked about you going back to work, but… but let’s try and let each other know where we are more often? Just while this Cat thing is not solved, yeah?”

“Yeah,” You agree. Your lips press against his forehead lovingly. “Yeah, I’ll do better.”

“Thank you, angel. Did you have fun?”

“I did, for a while. But then Abigail started asking some… personal questions and I just– it sets me off, I don’t know why,” You are clearly frustrated with yourself, sighing and letting your body fall on the couch. In a beat, your arms open for him, inviting Spence to lay with you for a moment. “She asked where you work. I said a ‘governmental agency’ and I don’t know why I feel like I need to hide you from strangers, like she’s going to try and do something to you if she finds out details about your life.”

When he lays down, you curl into him. “You’re protecting me, and that is really cute,” Spencer clarifies. “Maybe she’s just desperate for a friend, you know? I certainly have been there before, it can make you lose a bit of that common sense that should kick in and hold you back from putting your foot in your mouth, or any other idiot expression people use.”

“Could be,” Truth be told, you don’t want to talk about Abigail anymore. You don’t want to think about Abigail, you don’t want to think about Cat, you don’t want to think about anyone but Spencer.

You want to bask in your silence. In you quietude.

You want to feel normal again.

This feels normal again.

“Spencer?”

“Yeah?”

“I missed you today.”

Yeah… when he giggles; when he kisses your cheek, your neck, your shoulder; when he mumbles excitedly about his day… it all feels normal.

---------------------------------------

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