#I’m just gonna stand here and give a college lecture

[nakedinthepinkponyclub]

“I’m an idiot”

Yes you are cause why the fuck were standing there giving a lecture like your you’re DAD and not RUNNING TO YOUR BOYFRIEND WHOS FIXING TO JEKILL HIMSELF MOTHERFUCKER EXCEPT YOUR ACTUALLY NOT A MOTHERFUCKER CAUSE YOURE GAY AS HELL BUT THE POINT STILL FUCKING STANDS

[nadvs]

watch and learn (part one)

pairing fratboy! rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

content warning drug and alcohol use

summary it takes one conversation with your college dorm neighbor to know you won’t get along. rafe is loud, rude, and short-tempered. after he overhears you talking about a disappointing fling, he loses his confidence in his sexual abilities and suggests you start hooking up to both improve your skills in the bedroom. you can’t stand him, but it’s too good of an offer to turn down.

» masterlist

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At first, you cut your neighbor some slack. Over freshman welcome week, you figured it wouldn’t be reasonable to expect him to be quiet.

But it’s Thursday of week two, well past quiet hours, and the bass of his music is nearly making your bed shake.

You assumed the guy you’ve heard but haven’t seen yet would settle down once classes were underway. So much for that.

You have a lecture early tomorrow. It’s past midnight and his music and loud conversations are still drumming through your wall.

You’d call the resident advisor, but you’d rather talk to him yourself so not to risk any bad blood that could form from you snitching on him. You sigh, get out of bed, and decide to finally face him.

Rafe takes another hit of his joint, leaning back in his desk chair while three of his frat buddies talk about the past week of rushing.

He just got accepted into his top choice frat and he’s elated. And if he proves himself, he’ll be able to move into the Sigma Chi house next semester.

He probably will never get used to living in such a small room compared to the mansion he grew up in, but at least the frat house will be an upgrade.

“Dude, I think someone’s knocking,” Blake says, slapping Rafe’s knee.

“Oh, shit,” Rafe laughs, high out of his mind. He pauses the music and ambles out of the circle he’s been sitting in.

When he opens the door to see a girl in pajamas looking up at him, her arms crossed and her lips pinched, he’s taken aback for a second. Damn, you’re pretty.

“Hi,” you say, failing to force a smile at the man towering over you. The smell of weed hits you instantly. “I live next door. I wanted to ask if you could please keep it down?”

He grimaces as his unseen friends jeer behind him. You notice the Greek lettering on his t-shirt. A frat boy. Of course.

“You’re in trouble, Rafe!” one of them taunts.

He props a big arm against his doorframe, his blue eyes trailing down your body.

“Were we being loud?” he teases, purposely playing dumb. He’s obviously wasted. And is giving off strong fuckboy vibes.

“I have an early class tomorrow,” you try to explain. “Can you at least keep the music off?”

“What, you don’t like it?”

“Listen… Rafe, right?” you say. He nods, his grin still so fucking smug. You tell him your name. “I’m not trying to ruin anyone’s fun, but-”

“That’s kind of what you’re doing,” Rafe interrupts. The way your face screws up when you’re pissed off is too cute for him to stop fucking with you.

“Don’t you have a frat house you can do this at?” you finally snap, gesturing to his t-shirt.

“You telling me I can’t be in my own room?” Rafe says, annoyance starting to prick at his skin.

“Not if you’re gonna keep people up,” you say.

“Turn around.”

“What?” you snap.

“I wanna know if I can see the stick up your ass from here,” he says.

His friends explode in laughter and he looks back with a wide smile.

“I fucking hate frat boys,” you mutter more to yourself than to him. Rafe brings a hand up to his chest in mock offence. “And you’re not allowed to smoke in your room,” you add.

“You gonna tell on me?” He cocks his head, his hair falling over his forehead.

“Yeah, actually, I might.”

A man appears behind Rafe with a charming smile.

“Okay, okay,” he drawls to you, gesturing to dap Rafe up. “We should get going anyway.”

“Nah, man, you don’t have to,” Rafe says, immediately disappointed that his fun is ending.

“It’s late,” he says. The man nods at you with a smile.

“Blake,” he introduces himself to you. “Sorry about the noise.”

“Thank you,” you say through gritted teeth, wishing Rafe had half the manners his friend does. He shuffles past you, followed by two other guys who say their goodbyes to Rafe.

“Happy?” Rafe mutters, all the playfulness from his tone now gone.

“Thrilled,” you say, turning to get back to your room.

The next afternoon, you’re on the phone with your friend, Liv, as you make your way back to your dorm room after a full day of classes.

She’s trying to convince you to come to a party at a frat house tonight. You’re exhausted after a long day, but she’s right that you need some fun.

“I can’t be out long,” you say on the phone, pushing your key into the lock. “I’m tired. And honestly, already kind of stressed out over school.”

“Maybe you’ll meet a guy who’ll take your mind off things,” Liv suggests. You snort.

“The last guy I hooked up was such a disappointment,” you tell her. You try to twist your key. It won’t budge. “I almost faked my orgasm, then was like, it’s not even worth it.”

Liv laughs.

“They should know when they suck,” she says.

You wiggle your key, your fingers starting to hurt.

“Exactly,” you say. “Plus, he wanted to try this position and… I don’t know, I felt too nervous to do it. It was just a failure all around.”

Finally, your key twists and make it into your room, clueless to the fact that Rafe heard everything.

That night, you’re at the Sigma Chi house, two drinks in, when you spot your neighbor playing beer pong across the room. Shit. You’re sure this is his frat.

You already told Liv about your encounter with Rafe, so you nudge her and point him out.

“That’s my fuckboy neighbor,” you say.

“You didn’t mention how hot he is.”

“Wait until he opens his mouth,” you tell her, earning a laugh.

Honestly, Rafe does look good. He fills out his t-shirt so well, his backwards hat pushing his hair out of his handsome face.

Rafe glances around the crowded room and catches you staring at him. Even though you irritated him the first time you spoke last night, heat fills his body once he realizes your eyes are on him.

You quickly look away.

Despite how much of a tight-ass he thinks you are, he’s glad to see you tonight. What he overheard you say on the phone a few hours ago has been weighing on his mind. And his ego.

He finishes up his game of beer pong and the alcohol rushing through his system convinces him to find you and ask you what he’s been mulling over.

“Are you lost?” a voice says behind you.

You turn to look up at Rafe, who’s ducking down so you can hear him over the music. You glance back at Liv, who raises her eyebrows and turns away to give you privacy.

“Or do you actually know how to have fun?” he asks. You sigh as you glance back at him.

“I do, without the expense of people’s sleep,” you reply, a sarcastic smile on your face. “Crazy concept, right?”

“I figured it out,” he says. “Why you’re such a tight-ass.”

“I am not a tight-ass,” you reply.

“It’s ‘cause you can’t get off. I heard you,” he says. He sees embarrassment wash over your face. You know exactly what he’s referring to. “And I’m the loud one?”

You look away, regretting that you didn’t stop to think your voice would float into his dorm room. Fuck.

“Does that actually happen?” Rafe asks. “Girls fake orgasms?”

Your eyes dart up to meet his and you scoff a chuckle.

“Yes,” you say. “What, you didn’t know that?”

Rafe shakes his head. Admittedly, he’s been wondering if any girls faked cumming with him since he overheard you. It’s kind of a blow to his ego.

“Ouch,” you laugh, regaining your confidence. “Let me guess. You thought you had a perfect track record.”

“How can you tell that a girl’s faking it?”

You take a sip of your beer and he can’t help but notice the enticing way your lips look glossed with moisture.

“Every girl’s different,” you say. “But for the most part, you can… feel it. You know… down there.”

You’re glad you’re drunk for this conversation. You doubt you could have it sober.

“How?” he asks, genuinely curious.

“I’m not helping you with this,” you say. “Especially after you were such a dick to me.”

Rafe smirks, looking down. You notice he has really cute dimples. Shit. The fuckboy is charming you.

“Let’s start over,” he suggests. “I have an idea.”

“You can have those?” you ask.

“I heard you say you were nervous trying a new position,” Rafe says, ignoring your chide. You look down in unease again.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed,” he says. You look at him again, speechless over how forward he is. “We can help each other. You show me how to make a girl cum and how to know I actually did it. And I’ll let you practice whatever you want with me until you feel confident.”

You freeze for a second. Is he seriously suggesting you two fuck… to get better at fucking?

“Oh, you’ll let me?” you say, his proposal admittedly making your stomach numb with anticipation. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe,” Rafe says with a shrug. You realize he’s being totally and unabashedly serious. “What? Do you need time to think about it?”

You take another sip of your drink, the cold beer spilling down your throat.

He is insane. But he’s also attractive. Charming. Confident. Would it be so crazy to start hooking up with him?

You’d have the guarantee of an orgasm, without wondering if the guy you’re with cares enough about getting you there, and you’d get practice so you don’t feel as insecure next time you’re with a guy you actually like.

“I’m in, only if you promise to actually respect quiet hours from now on,” you finally say.

“Great sex isn’t a good enough deal?”

“Who’s to say it’ll be great?”

“So, I have to tiptoe around my own room,” he says, his temper flaring.

“If you consider not blasting music at night tiptoeing, then yeah,” you retort.

If Rafe wasn’t sure of it before, he is now: you’re hot when you’re pissed off.

“Fine,” he relents. He’ll probably be moving out next semester anyway. He fishes his phone out of his pocket and opens a new conversation. “Text yourself so I have your number.“

You hand him your cup in exchange for his phone. You send an eggplant emoji to your number. He takes a sip of your drink and you scowl.

“Are you that selfish in bed, too?” you say.

“You can let me know,” he quips. You roll your eyes at him and take your drink, giving him his phone back. Rafe chuckles when he sees the emoji you sent yourself.

“I will,” you promise. “I’ll call you out on everything you do wrong. If you can take it.”

“Okay,” he says. “Tonight?”

Wow. He’s eager. It’s kind of thrilling that he wants you this badly.

“Maybe,” you say. “If I’m not too tired when I get home, I’ll text you.”

Rafe’s chest tightens with excitement. His hot, mouthy neighbor is actually doing this with him.

“Sure.” Rafe juts out his bottom lip, nodding, as if this conversation is completely normal. He’s so casual about it. This feels unreal.

You give him a small smile. Probably the first genuine one you’ve offered him. Okay. You can admit to yourself that you’re looking forward to hooking up with him.

You stay at the frat house for another hour, hanging out with Liv and a few other friends you made, before you make it to your dorm just before midnight.

After changing into pajamas, and the nicest set of bra and panties that you own, you text Rafe: i’m home if you want to come over.

About ten minutes later, you hear a knock at your door. You open it to see Rafe standing with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his gray sweatpants.

You’re sure he knows how good he looks when you notice the outline of his length. He did this on purpose.

“Eager,” you say. “Were you already home?”

“I was quiet, huh?” he boasts, stepping into your room. He takes a second to soak in your space, eyes travelling over the way you’ve decorated.

“What the fuck? Your room’s bigger than mine,” he says.

“They’re all the same size.” You settle on your bed, glad he’s so comfortable about this, not making it awkward at all. Truthfully, the beer has worn off, and you’re kind of freaked out.

But this is what you’re doing this for. So you can stop being so nervous about sex.

“I’ll show you my room and you’ll see for yourself,” Rafe says. You watch him pace across your space to study the photos on your wall.

His eyes travel over the snapshots of you with your family and friends, your smile bright and pretty in every image.

With Rafe’s back turned to you, you take in the way his broad shoulders stretch out his white t-shirt. By the slight curve in his back, you can tell he’s not just lean, but muscular, too.

“How long are you expecting this… arrangement to go on for?” you ask.

“Until we’re both satisfied,” he says confidently, turning to meet your eyes.

“So, you’re aware you won’t be coming out of this with a girlfriend, right?” you assert.

While Rafe is attractive and charming, he’s also rude and narcissistic. You don’t want him to think you’re interested in him in that way. This isn’t a romance.

“Oh, yeah,” he huffs. “I’m not gonna be in college tied down to one chick.”

You scoff. Yup. Definitely no romance here.

“Maybe don’t call a girl a chick,” you say. “At least not to her face.”

“Right,” Rafe says with an easy laugh. He slowly steps towards you, his eyelids heavy as he looks down at you. “You have nice tits.”

You feel your skin burn, looking down at your chest in your tank-top. Rafe hardens the longer he looks at you.

“How sweet,” you say flatly.

Rafe smirks and sits down next to you, getting right to business as he pulls you in for a kiss. His lips are warm and surprisingly soft. He tastes like cinnamon toothpaste and smells like aftershave.

He’s a good kisser. But you expected as much. By his confidence and the fact that he prepositioned you the way he did, you can tell he’s experienced with girls.

You feel his hand slide up your body and squeeze your breast. You sit back, disjointing your lips.

“Slow down,” you tell him. “Do you always go right into groping a girl like this?”

“Yeah?” His brows furrow.

“Okay, some might like it,” you say. “But most want foreplay. You have to give me some time to get turned on.”

“Aren’t you already?” he asks. “We’re kissing.”

“We’ve been at it for like, a second, Rafe. Just because you’re…” You look down at the tent in his sweatpants. “Ready, it doesn’t mean I am.”

“So, what should I do?” he asks.

“Just… don’t rush,” you say.

Rafe nods and leans into kiss you again, his hand cupping your waist this time. He doesn’t usually like kissing that much, typically wanting to jump right into sex, but the way your tongue runs over his is actually sort of nice.

A few moments later, his fingers dip to pull your top off. When Rafe sees you in your bra, he swallows hard. Why does he feel like this is his first time seeing a half-naked woman?

Probably because he’s being graded, he realizes.

“Wow,” he breathes. You look down, scratching your neck. “Damn, you do get nervous.”

“What?” you say.

“When a guy says wow, take the compliment,” he states.

You shyly shake your head and pull him in for another kiss to brush past the moment. He catches on, pushing you back.

“I’m teaching you shit, too, remember?” he mutters. “Don’t be shy. You’re hot.”

“Alright,” you groan, tugging at his shirt. “Take this off.”

He smirks and obeys, hoping he at least partly got through to you.

When your eyes roam Rafe’s bare torso, your heart pounds harder.

You continue making out, and he eventually slowly unhooks your bra. He peels it off and slowly cups your breast, fondling and gently squeezing.

“Is this too hard?” he asks.

“No, it’s - it’s good,” you sigh. You remind yourself this is supposed to be instructional. “You should… um…”

“What?” he asks against your lips. “Stop being shy.”

“Play with my nipples,” you say, cheeks burning. “Some girls like that.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.” He looks down at your chest and softly pinches you, then rubs his thumb back and forth. “Good.”

Rafe is entirely hard now, your praise making him ache to be inside you. But he’s here to learn. He needs to go slower.

He dips to put his mouth on your chest, his lips locking around your nipple. You let out a shaky moan and he knows he’s doing something right.

Big hands gently press against your hips to push you onto your back. You settle on your firm bed, hands roaming over his smooth back.

He shifts to give your other breast the same amount of attention, coating your nipple in his warm spit. You bite your lip, feeling your stomach tighten in arousal.

“Can I go down on you?” he rasps.

You meet his eyes. Rafe realizes just how pleased you look already. It’s really gratifying.

“Yeah,” you whisper. He eagerly pulls down your bottoms and panties in one move, losing his breath when his eyes take you in.

“Goddamn.” His voice is strained. You’re already glistening and he wants to put his mouth on you immediately.

“Go slow there, too,” you say. “Kiss my thighs first.”

“Okay,” he says, nodding urgently. It’s satisfying seeing him listen to you like this, considering he doesn’t seem to care for rules.

Your thighs are so damn soft against his mouth. He peppers kisses up your skin. It’s taking all his willpower not to start eating you out right now.

Your breaths are shallow as he leaves languid, tender kisses on you. You feel his fingers stretch your lips apart and hear him sharply inhale.

“Now?” he asks impatiently.

“Yeah. Lick everywhere,” you say, “but pay the most attention to my clit. You know where it is, right?”

“I’m not that fucking helpless,” he mutters. You can’t help but laugh.

He lowers his mouth onto you and you tremble immediately. He laps at you for a few seconds, a groan escaping his lips.

“Fuck,” he whispers. “You taste really fucking good.”

“Do you always talk like that?” you ask.

“Yeah, is it okay?” Rafe says, suddenly tense.

“It’s amazing,” you admit. “Keep doing it.”

“Yeah?” he says with a smile. He points his tongue over your clit, wriggling it over your flesh.

“That’s good,” you tell him. “Make your tongue flat, too. Switch between the two.”

You feel him nod against you, avidly taking every tip.

“And suck a little,” you tell him. Rafe didn’t think he’d like being bossed around, but the way you’re telling him what feels good and making him better at eating pussy is rewarding.

He starts to suck at your clit and the way you moan tells him everything he needs to know. He sucks harder and your breath gets shaky.

Rafe is desperate to see how the inside of you feels, even if it’s just with his fingers. He shifts to slowly dip a finger in your cunt and glances up to look at you.

“Can I finger you?” he says.

“Yes,” you nod. “It’s good to ask. Start with one.”

He slowly sinks into you, stopping at his knuckle. You’re so tight.

“Shit, baby,” Rafe whispers. “I know you’re gonna squeeze my cock so good.”

Your head is spinning. You’ve never had a man talk to you like this before. This is what you’ve been missing out on, hooking up with guys who didn’t care about your pleasure? It feels unfair.

He adds a finger, curling into you and feeling you clench around him as he continues to work your clit. You look down to enjoy the sight of his head between your legs, the tips of soft dirty blonde hair tickling your skin.

It’s intoxicating, being taken care of the way you want to be.

Rafe’s jaw starts to get sore, but your noises give him the drive to keep going. Eventually, your thighs press against your ears.

“I’m gonna cum,” you mumble. “Don’t stop.” Rafe’s stomach twists with excitement, fully alert and eager to take mental notes.

Your breath stops, your muscles tense, and your walls flutter around him as you meet your peak. Sparks of pleasure fire throughout your body and you tug at the roots of his hair.

He keeps sucking and licking and pumping his fingers until you shuffle beneath him, overstimulated.

“Okay,” you sigh. “Good, that’s good.”

Rafe sits up, his lips wet with your arousal. You look happy, yet somehow kind of guilty. He makes a mental note to figure out how to make you unashamed for having a sex drive.

The way you’re panting is making him so fucking turned on that it hurts.

“I need to fuck you,” he says.

“Yeah,” you say breathlessly, hoping he’d say that. “Do you have something?”

He nods, pulling a condom wrapper out of his pocket. He takes his pants and boxers off at the same time and he springs out.

You never thought you’d think a cock could be perfect, but there’s no other way to describe it.

He leans over you, looking down as he lines himself up and slowly sinks into you. You watch him shut his eyes with pleasure, but when he opens them again, you look down at his body.

“So shy,” Rafe teases, his voice thick. “Make eye contact.”

You listen to him, meeting his eyes. It adds an entirely new level of pleasure and vulnerability, looking at each other while he starts to rock in and out of you.

He starts to thrust faster, revelling in the way your tits are bouncing with his force. His strokes are deep and powerful and you whimper over how nice it feels.

His balls feel tight already. He never cums this fast. There’s something about you that’s making his body react like this. But knowing you already orgasmed, he doesn’t let himself overthink it.

“Feels good?” Rafe asks with amusement in his tone. You moan in response. At least he doesn’t need to improve on this part.

He goes harder, losing his rhythm as he reaches his climax, trembling over you. The way he breathes through it is so unbelievably hot to you.

Once Rafe slows down, he collapses on top of you, his chest pressed against yours.

“How was that?” he mumbles.

“I don’t think your ego needs to get any bigger,” you say breathlessly. “But that was good.”

“Just good?”

You laugh. Okay, it was fucking mind-blowing. He doesn’t need to know that, though.

“Yup,” you say, patting his shoulder. “Let me up.”

“What - what could I have done better?” he asks, sitting up off of you, pulling out. “I listened to everything you said. I swear, I never cum that fast.”

You smirk. He’s desperate for the praise.

“Fine,” you say. “It was amazing, okay? Don’t let it get to your head, frat boy.”

It definitely gets to his head. You can tell by the way he’s smiling.

“What position did that guy want you to try? Wanna do it?” he asks. You shake your head in disbelief. He could probably go all night.

“Next time,” you say, exhausted, your muscles weak.

Rafe’s disappointed, but he doesn’t show it.

“Okay,” he agrees. “Next time.”

part two

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Summer Breeze 2

Warnings: age gap (reader is 22, Andrew is mid 40s), dad’s friend, Andy being Andrew, other dark elements. As usual, be mindful of your content consumption.

I also beg of you to leave me some tuppence in the form of a comment and/or reblog. You are cherished!

Enjoy, my loverlies.

You sit on the edge of the dock, watching the ripples as the sun drifts up the horizon. You forego the Adirondack chairs so that you can dip your toes in the coolness of the lake. It’s peaceful. The crisp water in the glass adds to the subtle coolness in the air. 

The dirt mulches as you hear someone descending from the house. You can assume who it is before they tramp onto the dock. You continue to watch the sky as you hear Andy sit in one of the chairs. He sighs as he so often does. 

“So, you don’t drink coffee,” he breaks the calm with his gravelly timbre, “how do you wake yourself up for all those early morning lectures?” 

You turn your head and glance over your shoulder. You shrug and look back out at the lake, “I guess I just get through it.” 

“Mm,” he hums and you hear him slurp from his cup. “Bad habit. Better not to have too much caffeine.” 

“Sure,” you agree, “guess I just never had the desire to try.” 

“Sounds like you have self-control,” he tuts, “definitely don’t get that from your dad.” 

You nod and reach for the glass of water. You’re not sure what to say to that. Your dad has a couple beers each night, you know it’s not great, but he’s harmless. 

“It’s nice that you can come up here. I know he was nervous about it. Didn’t think you’d like it,” Andy continues. 

“Oh, yeah, er, thanks for letting me.” 

“No problem,” he replies swiftly, “don’t mind. I’m more concerned about Jacob and his buddies. You let me know if they give you any trouble.” 

“Um, I don’t think they will,” you turn the glass in your hands, “but thanks.” 

“Mm, well I know how boys that age can be,” he intones. 

His statement tweaks your brow. You’re not sure what he means. Jacob and his friends are harmless. They’re like most guys you deal with in college; they talk a big game with each other but in reality, they’re not doing much more than staying up playing video games or some roleplaying table game. None of them are frat material. 

“So do I,” you balance the glass as you stand up, “I’m gonna walk around a bit. Explore before everyone else gets up.” 

“Right,” he sits back and sips his coffee, his shirt still open, exposing his hairy chest as he pays little mind to it, “be careful of bears.” 

“Bears?” You echo, “right.” 

You leave him as your sandals clap loudly. The ominous warning has you on edge. You forgot there would be more than cottage folk up here. You try not to think too much of it. You’ve heard bears usually avoid people. 

You stop by the back deck to leave your glass there for your return and trod back down the steps. You head off around the side of the cottage and to the dirt road behind the vehicles parked in the lot. You peer into the trees that line the way in and swat away the buzzing bugs.  

After another year on campus and with your last one ahead of you, you can’t help but bask in the remote serenity of it all. Your dad promised you a beach day and while your sad not to have friends of your own there to sunbathe with, it will be a good opportunity to do some reading. You continue on your trek until you feel like you might get lost and turn back. 

As you come back in sight of the porch, the morning birds tweet their good mornings. You hate to go back inside. You’re usually a homebody but up here, you could never put another foot indoors and be content. 

You climb the stairs of the deck and follow it around to the back. You grab your glass and the last mouthful of now lukewarm water. A distant splash draws your eye and you stare out at the empty dock, the water ringed and rolling towards the horizon. 

You stare out, trying to find the disturbance. It breaks through the water as Andy’s head pops up from the water and he pushes back his dark hair. He wades around, stretching his arms wide as he kicks himself through the shallow. 

You should go inside but the soft pink sky keeps you hypnotised. Your eyes flick past the body in the water as the sun warps the sky in shades of violet and pink through the stringy clouds. It’s like a painting. You peer up at the hues and grip the glass as the subtle blue slowly edges out the other colours. 

The water stirs loudly again and your gaze is drawn back to the thud on the deck. You gulp back a gasp as Andy turns his naked back to you and stretches his arms wide. From there, you can only make out his form, grateful that his finer features are left vague. 

You quickly retreat from what you shouldn’t have seen. You should’ve just gone inside. You go around the front so that you don’t give yourself away with the door.

Forget it. No big deal. It’s just a mistake. As long as he doesn’t know, it’s nothing to worry about. 

[evansbby]

𝐃𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐰𝐚𝐲 (𝐏𝐎𝐘𝐓 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐧-𝐨𝐟𝐟)

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: alpha!Bucky Barnes x naive omega!Reader, also featuring: dark alpha!Steve Rogers

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Misogyny, a/b/o dynamics, dubcon, dark Steve, poyt!Steve (yes, he is a warning), mentions of smutt, 18+ minors dni.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: It’s your first day at college and Bucky, a popular alpha, asks for your number. (This is a spin-off of my fic Preying on You Tonight, exploring what would have happened if Bucky had gotten to omega before Steve. You do not need to read that fic to understand this one).

𝐀/𝐍: It’s finally here! As the writer, all I sincerely ask is for you to read it till the end. I put a lot of hard work into this and it’s been a long time coming. I really hope you give this fic a chance, and I hope you enjoy! This is 16.8k words.

It’s gonna be okay, it’s gonna be okay, it’s gonna be okay. You quietly chant under your breath as you make your way into the intimidatingly large lecture hall. World Politics. It’s a senior class, mostly males, majority alphas. But you’ve managed to get in – the only freshman who was accepted – and it makes your heart flutter with excitement. Maybe they’ll all be impressed, you think to yourself, clutching your bookbag tightly as you make your way inside.

Everyone’s already sat down or milling about in groups. You shoot a few smiles here and there, hoping someone might smile back – but everyone seems busy catching up with their own friends. You sigh – of course, you don’t expect to make friends right away. But you probably will soon.

There’s a pack of intimidating looking guys in the back of the room, they draw your attention because of how loud they’re being as they laugh and joke around. Football players, you think to yourself – they’re all wearing blue jerseys with the university emblem. And they’re all so big and broad. There’s a blond one who seems bigger and scarier than all of them, and there’s also a brunet – also big and intimidating but he looks slightly more laid back than the others.

You snap your head away as soon as he looks in your direction, feeling your cheeks heat up. You’re confident you’ll make friends, but it probably won’t be anyone from the resident campus jock group. Not wasting any more time, you make your way to the front of the lecture hall and take a seat in the very first row. Hopefully, someone else would join you and you could strike up a conversation.

You’re arranging your pens in colour order when your phone vibrates.

Peter: Good luck, babe! I know first days can be hard, but you’re gonna smash it! See you tonight!

Smiling softly, you text your boyfriend a quick response before putting your phone away – the lecture is about to start and you don’t want to miss a single word.

A chorus of loud snickers makes you look back over your shoulder. It’s the group of jock alphas – they’re only a couple of rows behind you now, laughing over something while they look in your direction. You suddenly feel self-conscious, looking over your hoodie for any stains, eyes scanning around your vicinity for anything remotely funny.

You’ve just given up and gone back to opening your notebook when you feel a tap on your shoulder. It’s the brunet alpha, he’s standing next to your desk with a cocky smile on his face.

“Hey, newbie.”

You smile shyly, “Hi.”

“YOU’RE SUCH A DOG, BARNES!” One of the alpha jocks hoots from the back and all the rest of the pack guffaws too, some even making barking sounds. It causes the smile to freeze on your face.

The brunet laughs in his friends’ direction before turning back to you, “Ignore them. You a transfer student or something?”

“No. I’m a freshman. This is my first day.”

“Freshman, huh?” He licks his lips. He’s got nice lips; you think to yourself before inwardly shaking your head in alarm. You have a boyfriend, you remind yourself. But the brunet in front of you also has nice eyes, you can’t help but notice. Light blue and shining, along with scruffy brown hair and a smattering of facial hair. “What’s a little freshman like you doing here? You realise this is a senior class? Are you lost, newbie?”

“No, not lost, I’m meant to be here.” You tell him firmly, “I was interested in this class so I applied for it. I was the only freshman to be accepted.” You hope it doesn’t sound like you’re boasting, you can’t help but feel proud about it.

The brunet nods thoughtfully, “No kidding. You must be very smart.”

You shrug modestly.

“What’s your name, newbie?”

You tell him and he nods, repeating it to himself slowly as if he’s savouring the word.

“I’m James.” He says, “I mean, everyone calls me Bucky but you can call me James.”

You giggle nervously, “Wh-Why do I get to call you that?”

His smile is lop-sided and lazy, and you can’t help but stare. It brightens up his whole face, painting an image of mischief across his features. But he’s not intimidating, not like his friends who continue to hoot and yell behind him. You feel fire on your cheeks because he looks kind of… cute.

Wait. What?

“Pretty girls like you are allowed to call me James.”

The professor chooses that moment to clear his throat as he begins to start up the PowerPoint presentation.

“Well, anyways, newbie. I just came over to say hello. And while I’m here, I was wondering if I could borrow a pen. I forgot mine and you seem to have… a lot.” He gestures to your collection of pens – you have one in just about every colour of the rainbow.

You nod eagerly – you hadn’t expected an alpha jock to be the first one to speak to you at college, but you weren’t complaining.

“Sure! Take your pick,” You say enthusiastically “The blue one doesn’t work too well, but the rest are all good! If you prefer ink pens over ballpoint, I’ve got those too!”

“What about this pink one?”

“Oh,” Your response is less than enthusiastic, “I mean… I always use the pink one. But if you really want it–”

He laughs, reaching out and patting your hand softly. And the touch, despite being seemingly innocuous, sends thrills up and down your spine. You can’t help but think how much bigger his hand is than yours.

“That’s alright, sweetheart. You use the pink one. I’ll take this one instead.” He grabs a green pen, and that’s when you get a strong whiff of his scent. Smoky yet dewy – like a cosy fireplace on a winter morning. Fresh like snow mixing with the earth, like cold rain mingling with a special kind of musk.

Bucky seems to notice how you suddenly pause, your nose twitching as you repeatedly inhale his scent. He chuckles softly, waving a hand in front of your face, “Hey, you still there?”

You shake your head, giving yourself a moment to gather yourself before looking up at him, “Yeah, uh. Yeah, I’m here.”

“Good. Because the lecture’s about to start, and you look like someone who doesn’t want to miss a word.” He winks, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t send shivers of excitement up and down your spine, “Well, thanks for the pen, newbie.”

And then he goes back to join his friends, leaving you with a lightness in your heart, a spark in your eyes and a smile on your lips. You’d always thought jocks were mean, but Bucky – James – had been nice. Maybe it was a sign, a sign that your first year of university perhaps wouldn’t be as daunting as you originally thought.

You risk a glance back at him. He’s sat a few rows behind you, next to his blond friend. The two couldn’t be more different – with Bucky sitting back, relaxed and laughing, the pen you gave him dangling out of his mouth like a cigarette. The blond sits up straight with rigid posture, and he looks sullen, a touch of a scowl on his face as he looks at Bucky. And then he turns, piercing blue eyes glaring right at you.

You turn back to look in front. That can’t be right. This blond jock doesn’t even know you. Sighing, you begin to take notes, the world of politics taking over as you excitably fill page after page.

You’re immensely satisfied when the class ends – it was everything you wanted it to be and more. With the risk of sounding like a nerd – and you are a nerd, you’ll happily admit it – you’d enjoyed every second of the lecture, soaking in every word like a sponge. If this is what all university classes were going to be like, you’d stay forever.

“You look happy, newbie.” It’s Bucky again; the rest of his group is milling around by the exit, and you can’t deny the thrill you feel at the fact that he hung back with you.

“I am happy, wasn’t that just the most fascinating lecture ever? I mean, I’d heard things about this professor, that he’s so mesmerising to listen to. And it’s true!” You sigh almost dreamily, hugging your fresh notes close to your chest, “I feel like I’ve learnt more in this past hour than I did in the entirety of my high school history class.”

Bucky just stares at you, a smile on his face that reaches all the way up, making the sides of his eyes crinkle.

“What?” You ask consciously when he continues to just… look at you.

“Nothing. You’re just very cute, all bright-eyed and enthusiastic. Not like us jaded seniors.”

“BUCKY, LET’S GO.” As if on cue, the blond alpha bellows across the lecture hall.

Bucky seems wholly unperturbed, even as you jump from the loudness of the blonde’s tone.

“Your friend’s calling you,” You shuffle from one foot to the other, unable to ignore how the blond alpha is glaring at the pair of you all the way from the doorway, “He seems really impatient.”

With a wave of his hand, Bucky dismisses this claim, “Oh, don’t mind Steve. He’s just pissy these days because his girlfriend’s being a bitch.”

Oh. You have no idea what to say to that, so you just continue to pack up your things.

“So, what are your plans for the rest of the day?”

“I’m gonna head over to the library,” You answer excitedly, “I’ve heard it’s really, really big. One of the biggest in the country. I got a glimpse of it during orientation, but I’ve got the rest of the day free so today I’m gonna sit in there and catch up on some reading, and may–”

“Why don’t I walk you there?” The brunet offers. And it’s his quiet confidence that gets to you, the way he’s got this small smile on his face, as if he knows you won’t refuse him, “I have a class in that direction anyways. Steve does too. We could both walk you there.”

You glance once more at Steve, who – believe it or not – is still glaring at you. Or are you imagining it? You’re about to respond when a tall blonde girl in a cheerleading uniform skips up to him. They kiss, and then leave the lecture hall hand-in-hand. You turn back to Bucky, who shrugs.

“Well. Scratch that. I guess it’s just you and me then, newbie. C’mon. I’ll give you a campus tour.”

Talking with Bucky is surprisingly simple. He’s easy-going and laidback, completely cool in the way he makes conversation. Talking about himself but at the same time asking you questions about your life. You’ve always been shy but you find yourself at ease with him, you find yourself laughing at his jokes… You even catch yourself staring at him more than a few times, completely captured by his pretty eyes and lazy smile.

“I’m mostly friends with everyone on the football team, but Steve’s my best friend,” He nods at the blond alpha who’s walking a few paces ahead of you two, hand-in-hand with the cheerleader who you assume is his girlfriend. “We’ve known each other since we were kids. And then there’s Sam, but he’s hungover so he didn’t come in today.” Bucky’s eyes crinkle as he laughs, “Classic Sam.

The walk to the library is over a little too soon.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you in the next lecture. Thanks for walking with me.” You say, backing away but not wanting to completely leave just yet.

“Princess, wait.” He grabs your hand, yanking you back till you’re only a few inches away from him. And maybe it’s the shock due to the fact that he called you princess, but you just… let him do it. He grins down at you.

“You’re not gonna leave without giving me your number first, are you?”

You giggle nervously, and you’re surprised that you have to swallow down the words ‘yes, I’ll give you my number’ which are on the tip of your tongue. Instead, you shake your head slowly, “I, uh, I have a boyfriend.”

The alpha blinks, hand freezing midway through running through his hair. But then he relaxes, and that familiar lazy smile returns to his face. “So? Can’t friends save each other’s numbers? We’re friends now, aren’t we?”

You feel heat rising up your neck and spreading to your cheeks, “Oh. Of course. I guess we are. Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed–”

“No worries, princess.” He takes your phone, quickly putting in his number and texting himself from yours before handing it back to you. “Your boyfriend’s a lucky guy, by the way. But I’m sure he won’t mind if I text you tonight, right?”

Bucky doesn’t wait for an answer, instead just winking at you before taking off. And you stand outside the steps of the library and watch him for a second. He catches up with Steve and gives him a hard thump on the back before falling into step next to him. Steve still has a scowl on his face but it slowly dissipates, and you watch for a moment as the two alphas talk animatedly. Even if Bucky hadn’t told you earlier, it was clear as day that the they were best friends.

It takes you a while to realise that you’re staring, and you quickly retreat into the library, the magical pull of books and knowledge sucking you in and making you forget about everything else.

***

“I’d say it was a good first day, as far as first days go.” You deduce, walking into the living room with a bowl of popcorn in your hands. You hand it over to Peter, who’s scrolling through Netflix in search of the perfect movie. Which is an impossible task since the two of you had seen practically everything Netflix had to offer – you guys had more movie nights then you did date nights. Actually, you can’t remember the last time you and Peter had gone out on a date. The thought seemed weird… you were much more comfortable sitting on the couch and gorging on popcorn and talking the night away with him – like you were right now.

“That’s good. Did you make any friends?”

You think back to Bucky’s twinkling blue eyes and feel a jolt of electricity run through you. Bucky was your friend, right? He’d said so. But for reasons you don’t quite understand, you only clear your throat and shake your head. “No. I talked to a few people but that’s all. I mean, it’s only day one, right? Nobody makes friends on day one.”

“True.” Peter agrees, his mouth full of popcorn. “Okay, so, I’m thinking it’s a teen dystopian movie kind of night. Hunger Games or Divergent?”

Your brow furrows while you think, “I don’t like Divergent and I’ve seen The Hunger Games way too many times.”

“Okay, how about Catching Fire?”

“The ending of that one makes me sad.”

You bicker back and forth before settling down with Alice in Wonderland, and the popcorn is half finished by the time the beginning credits start rolling. And that’s when your phone vibrates.

James: Hey, princess. You busy?

A smile touches your lips before you cast a quick glance at Peter. He’s half laid down on the other end of the couch with his eyes locked on the screen. You swallow down the guilt – you know Bucky is just your friend but it still feels kind of wrong to be texting him when you’re meant to be watching a movie with Peter. But there’s a large part of you that wants to answer, and it doesn’t take long for that part of you to win the inner conflict inside your head. You quickly text back:

You: Hey! I’m currently watching a movie with my boyfriend.

Your text is truthful, but you hope Bucky doesn’t think you’re dismissing him. His reply is almost instantaneous:

James: Aw, how cute. What movie is it?

You: Alice in Wonderland. Have you seen it?

You mentally kick yourself after you press send. What a dumb question – of course he’s seen it! Who hasn’t seen one of the most recognisable Disney movies of the last decade?

James: I have. I didn’t know you were such a big fan of cartoons, princess.

You feel the ends of your mouth tugging into a smile before you give Peter another glance. He’s polishing off the last of the popcorn, engrossed in Alice as she tumbles down the rabbit hole. You grab the empty bowl and stand up. “I’ll go make some more popcorn.”

Peter nods, “You want me to pause it?”

“No, that’s alright.”

You float into the kitchen and put another bag of popcorn in the microwave before taking a deep breath and looking down at your phone again.

James: Maybe we could watch a movie sometime? I’ve got a flatscreen in my room ;)

You feel a shiver go down your spine when you read his text, and you let yourself imagine it for a split second. Watching a movie with Bucky. In his bedroom. On his bed? You’d never been to a boy’s room before – except Peter, but he’d been your best friend all through high-school. Sure, he was your boyfriend now but you always do the same things you guys did when you were friends – just with added kissing and sometimes touching.

“Babe, you done?” Peter calls for you as if on cue.

Once more awash with guilt, you quickly type out a text:

You: I’m sorry, I should get back to the movie. Good night :)

You switch your phone off for the rest of the night, trying to focus on Alice’s adventures in wonderland, but the thought of Bucky dwindles at the back of your mind as if it’s there to stay.

***

You plan on avoiding Bucky the next day but that proves to be an extremely flimsy plan. You’re sitting in the front row when him and Steve and another guy – you assume it’s Sam – walk in. You get a pleasant whiff of Bucky’s scent before it’s overpowered by something stronger – the smell of firewood and a hot summer day. They walk by you, with Bucky giving you a small smile and a wink and Steve sucking in a breath, his nostrils twitching as he walks past you. Strange. What was his problem?

You still feel guilty about the previous night. Peter was your first ever relationship so you might not be the biggest expert on these types of things, but you’re sure that getting giddy over another guy texting you is not good girlfriend behaviour. You need to put a swift stop to it, starting now. You spend the rest of the lecture taking notes diligently, stuffing the thought of Bucky to the back of your mind.

When the class ends, you try to scurry away to the library. But you don’t get too far down the corridor before a hand encloses around your wrist and tugs you back.

“Princess, wait up. Where are you hurrying off to?”

“I – uh – I need to go to the library to print something.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow, “I’ll walk you.”

“Oh no, that’s okay.”

He looks at you for a handful of seconds before sighing and taking a step back, “This is about last night, isn’t it? My texts scared you off?”

You bite your lip, “James, I have a boyfriend.”

“I know, I know.” He runs a hand through his messy brown hair, shifting from one foot to the other before those icy blue eyes settle on you again. “I’ll be honest, princess. You’re so pretty, I thought I’d shoot my shot anyways.”

Your jaw drops, “B-But I have a boyfriend.”

He shrugs, looking virile and handsome with his facial hair and lazy smile, “That’s never stopped me before. I mean, it’s not really a big thing with me and my friends. If we want a girl, we go after her, boyfriend or not, it doesn’t matter to us.”

“Oh.” You don’t know whether to stay or just leave, and you’re debating over just that when Bucky pipes up again.

“Look, princess. I like you. And I have a hunch that you like me too. And as I said before, I usually don’t care if the girl I like has a boyfriend. But you’re different, I want to do right by you.” He strokes the palm of your hand with his thumb and it’s like you’re mesmerised by the feeling. “I’d really like to take you out sometime. But I can give you time to break up with your boyfriend first.”

You gasp, pulling your hand out of his grasp, “James Barnes! That’s so wrong. You know how awful of a person that would make me? And I barely know you!”

“Just think about it. I really like you.” He says earnestly, blue eyes sparkling and locking with yours as he grabs your hand again, “And breaking up with him will spare this guy the embarrassment of being with a girl who’s no longer into him.”

Your jaw drops open at his audacity, “That’s not true–!”

“Bucky, we have practice.”

Steve rounds the corner, stopping short when he sees the two of you so close, his eyes narrowing as they zero in on your intertwined hands.

“Gimme a sec.” Bucky answers, not even sparing Steve a glance, eyes unblinking as they stare at you meaningfully.

For the second time, you snatch your hand out of his grip. “I-I – uh – I have to go!” You do the easiest thing you can think of, backing away and getting the hell out of there. Bucky’s just dropped a huge bomb on you and Steve’s intimidating as hell, so you deem it best to put some distance between you and the two alphas as you speed-walk away from the situation.

“Why are you talking to that trashy omega?” You hear Steve mutter as you turn your back on them, and the hurtful words make your heart jolt.

“Hey, don’t call her that.” Bucky answers, and that’s the last thing you hear before you round the corner and escape into the comforting clutches of the campus library.

***

So, Bucky liked you. He liked you. As in, he wanted to take you out on a date. This information has you feeling giddier than it should. You’ve never known anyone to like you like that (except Peter) and never so brazenly. You can’t help but feel all light inside. A popular, handsome senior liked you!

But then, the flowy lightness inside you is overtaken by wracks of guilt, showering down on your heart like hard, jagged rocks. You’re with Peter. You like Peter. You can’t get happy over Bucky liking you when you’re with Peter. That’s just a fact.

You lay low for a couple of weeks, avoiding Bucky like he’s the plague. But you know his eyes are on you, glued to the back of your head during every lecture, when you keep your face pointedly facing forward and never look back at him. You can’t. You’re in a relationship. You have to respect it.

But then, things take a different turn than you ever expected them to.

Peter scores an internship at Stark Industries, which means he has to move to New York immediately. And you’re so happy for him, it’s what he’s been working towards and dreaming of for as long as you’ve known him. His goal of tackling the tech world is similar to your own goal of being the first person in your family to earn a university degree. You’re thrilled for him. But sitting on his bed and wistfully watching him pack, it’s like you both know what this means.

The break-up is mutual. Peter says that he’ll be busy with work, and you agree that you’ll be busy with college assignments too. And after one last movie night and a tearful goodbye, you both agree to try to remain best friends. He promises to come see you when he’s got a free moment, and you tell him you’ll travel up to New York once you’ve saved enough money to be able to afford it.

And then he’s gone. Off chasing his dreams and you couldn’t be happier for him.

But now you’re single. And what does that mean for you?

***

Bucky approaches you after spring break, sporting a healthy tan and messier hair. You’d overheard him and his friends talking earlier, so you knew they’d all flown to Cancun for the past week. Lucky them. You’d spent the break studying in your room, making notes for the next set of lectures to make sure you were well-prepared for them.

“Hello, princess. You’re looking extra beautiful today.”

You look down at your old hoodie and ratty leggings and wonder if he’s joking with you. “Uh, thanks?”

“I’m serious. You’re glowing, which can only mean one thing. You broke up with him, didn’t you?” Bucky leans down over your table, giving you a strong whiff of his wintery scent. It’s like freshly powdered snow and warm fire logs, enveloping around you like a welcome hug after your lonely spring break.

You purse your lips together, focusing on your notes except the lecture hasn’t started yet so you have nothing to write down except the date. But you’re determined not to look at him, “Actually, it was mutual.”

Bucky’s grin only gets wider, and to your surprise, he plops down on the empty seat next to you. Your eyes widen, “Wh-What are you doing?”

“What? I can’t sit next to you? Is this seat taken?”

Well, of course it wasn’t. You usually sat alone. Nobody really spoke to you apart from Bucky, but that was okay. It’s not like anyone was ever horrible to you either. Except Steve with that one comment that he’d made the other day. But you must have overheard him wrong.

“So, what did you do over spring break?” He asks.

You shrug, “I read up on the next few chapters on our syllabus.”

Bucky nods, “A quiet week, huh? Well, I wish I’d stayed back too.” He chuckles when he sees your raised eyebrow, “Hey, don’t get me wrong. Cancun’s beautiful, but it gets tiresome after a while. All Steve and Sam ever did was hook up with different girls. Constantly. Me? I just didn’t feel like doing that this time around.”

You frown, casting a short glance at Steve, except you quickly look away because he happens to be staring right back at you. But why was Steve hooking up with other girls? Didn’t he have a girlfriend? You mull over it for a second before you register the other thing Bucky had said. “Y-You didn’t feel like hooking up with anyone?”

The brunet clasps his hand over yours and shoots you a sparkling smile, “Why would I? When my girl wasn’t there with me?”

Bucky takes you out the following weekend. And you don’t know why you agree, when it’s so soon after your breakup with Peter. But when he asks you out, it just feels right, and the word “yes” is flying out of your mouth before you have the chance to think about it. Peter’s probably seeing other people too, you think to yourself. And the thought doesn’t bother you at all, because why shouldn’t Peter have his fun? He was single. And so were you.

Bucky presents you with a bouquet of pink tulips at the start of your date, and sits on your bed with an amused expression on his face while you quickly tend to them. Trimming the stems and finding a vase before setting them on your windowsill. “You look beautiful, princess.” He comments, making your cheeks feel like they’re on fire before he grabs your hand and takes you out.

The diner he takes you to is casual and pretty, only a few minutes outside of campus. The evening sunlight spills down through the window while Bucky brazenly holds your hands in his over the table – even when the waitress is taking your order! It makes you squirm, but in a pleasant kind of way. And he tells you about himself while you eat, how he knows he’s from a privileged family but always felt different growing up.

He tells you about all the mischief he and Steve got up to when they were kids, and then teens, and now young adults. And you can’t really imagine Steve, all stoic and mean and preppy-looking, getting up to any kind of mischief but you smile and nod anyways, loving how Bucky tells his stories in such an easy-going and charming way.

You’re a bit more guarded when he asks you about your childhood, though. You keep it brief and simple, outright evading certain details because you don’t want to get into it right now. But Bucky seems to understand, squeezing your hands before grabbing a napkin and wiping a spot of sauce on the side of your mouth.

He takes you to a nearby park after that. He buys a small loaf of bread so the two of you can feed the ducks. And he never lets go of your hand, and you can feel him watching you as you focus on the ducks gobbling up the pieces of bread. And then he grabs your chin and gently turns your face to him and he kisses you. And it’s sweet. Sweeter than it is with Peter. And you kiss him back, because you like how light and fluffy and exciting it feels to kiss Bucky.

It feels like you’re on cloud nine.

The dates get more frequent after that. Bucky walks you to class every day, holding your hand and talking to you about anything and everything. Like the latest report your class has been assigned, or his football team winning another game, or any new books you’ve read. You find yourself giggling and opening up a lot more, every shy bone in your body relaxing when you’re talking to him.

The kissing and touching becomes more frequent too. Often, he comes to your dorm room and things get hot and heavy. And oh, it’s so exciting feeling Bucky’s hands on you, and his expert kisses leave you breathless! He really was an incredible kisser, taking control and moving his tongue so lazily and perfectly against yours. But something within you always stops him before he can go any further.

“Bucky, please. I just got out of a relationship and I don’t know if I’m ready for sex.” You tell him truthfully one evening while he’s got you pinned down on your bed in the middle of a particularly passionate make-out session.

Bucky lies back down beside you while you fix the buttons of your cardigan which he’d almost had undone. He reaches down to adjust his boner through his jeans, “Princess, you’re killing me here. I want you so bad.”

You swallow, “I’m sorry, James. I just don’t think I’m ready.”

Light blue eyes smile down at you as the alpha sits up and grabs your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t apologise, princess. I understand.”

“I just feel bad, I don’t want you to think I’m leading you on.” You duck your head, but he grabs your chin and lifts it up again, making you look at him.

“I’ll be honest, I don’t think I’ve gone out this long with a girl without sleeping with her.” Bucky confesses, scratching his head with a sheepish look on his face. “I haven’t been a great boyfriend in the past, and my motives have usually been selfish.”

Your eyes grow wide, but you don’t say anything.

“I’m telling you this because I care about you, princess. I think you’re different.” He tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear and chucks you under your chin till you smile. “I like talking to you and spending time with you. You’re smart and beautiful and I know we haven’t been together long, but I really see a future for us.” He kisses you sweetly, and you’re too busy trying to tame the butterflies in your stomach to respond properly, but you try your best anyways.

“What I’m saying is, you can take all the time you need till you’re ready. I’m not going anywhere, and I’ll wait as long as I have to till you’re ready to have sex.” Bucky finishes earnestly, and you can’t help but wrap your arms around his neck and plant a million kisses on his face. He’s saying all the right things, everything a girl wants to hear from her boyfriend.

“You really mean all that?” You ask him softly.

“Yes, princess, I mean it. You’re my girlfriend, and I’ll wait for you for as long as you need.” Bucky looks earnest and sweet, and you hug him hard. You feel a mix of thrill and nervous energy flutter through you. It’s something you’ve never felt before. But it’s a good feeling, and you welcome it with open arms as Bucky continues to leave tiny kisses all over your face. Till you’re giggling against his lips and hugging him close, feeling lighter than a feather.

***

Being the girlfriend of a popular senior was not something you’d envisioned happening to you at the start of university. But Bucky made it feel so natural, introducing you to all his friends, holding your hand all the time and including you in all his plans. His friends are nice enough: Sam was a bit cold at first but he warmed up after a while. Thor was loud and funny, Ransom acted overly smart and confident but seemed to have a sensitive side too. Curtis was mysterious and Andy was kind of dopey, and they were all friendly with you.

But then there was Steve.

The blonde alpha glowered at you any chance he got. Whenever you were in his presence, you could feel his steely blue eyes boring holes straight through your skin. You always kept out of his way so you were unsure why he seemed to hate you. Bucky just said not to take it personally, that Steve was just going through a rough patch with his girlfriend and he didn’t hate you at all.

One day, you’d gone over to Bucky’s house where he – unfortunately – lived with Steve and Sam too.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Steve had demanded when he’d opened the door and seen you standing there.

“Uh… James to-told me to meet him here after my morning classes.” You explain, feeling oddly nervous around the big alpha. You’re naturally shy but you’d come out of your shell quite a bit ever since you’d started dating Bucky. But Steve was just so intimidating, standing there in just a pair of grey sweats that are slung low over his hips. You avert your gaze to the ground in a bid not to stare at his bare chest.

Steve regards you suspiciously before stepping aside and letting you in. And you feel his heated gaze still on you as you brush past him to get inside. And that’s when you hear him inhale sharply, a low rumble coming from his chest before he stumbles. You whip around just in time to see him recover, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Are you okay?”

Steve scoffs, “Why the hell wouldn’t I be okay?”

“Uh… You kinda just tripped?” You point out hesitantly, and the blonde alpha’s pale face goes crimson before he clears his throat.

“I did not trip.” He glowers through gritted teeth.

Okay then. You decide not to question his rude and erratic behaviour. “Where is James’ room?”

Steve glances upstairs before leaning against the kitchen counter, his intense gaze locking on you as his frown relaxes into a smirk. “He’s taking a shower right now. You should wait for him down here.”

“Okay.” You sit down at the kitchen table. The house is big, spacious and minimalistic in the way it’s decorated. The kitchen is modern and it’s clear that there’s only boys living here, because you can see a ton of takeout containers and microwave meals strewn across the countertops.  Once you’re done observing your surroundings, you notice Steve still staring at you.

“So, you’re Bucky’s girlfriend now, huh?” He breaks the silence.

“Yes.”

“Strange. I never thought he’d go for someone like you.”

Your brows knit together into a frown as a pang of hurt echoes inside you, “Wh-What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs, and you try not to focus on his broad, muscular shoulders. But it’s not easy to just look at his face either, because he’s so intimidating. He runs a hand through his light hair, “Nothing, omega. Don’t worry your little head over it.

Your jaw drops open, “Don’t call me that, please. I have a name.”

“As if I care.”

God! It was like talking to an eight-year-old. You had no idea that Steve was this immature and rude, and it makes your blood boil. You’re just about to get up and find Bucky’s bedroom yourself when you hear a pattering of light footsteps coming down the stairs.

“Steve, I have to go. But promise you’ll text me tonight?” It’s a girl. You recognise her from college – you’ve definitely seen her around campus somewhere. But she’s definitely not Sharon. She skips up to Steve and plants a kiss on his cheek, and the alpha only responds with a grunt. You get a weird feeling inside you as you watch this exchange, but try your best to shake it off.

The girl stops to shoot you a smile. “Hey, you’re Bucky’s girlfriend, aren’t you? Nice to meet you!”

She leaves before you have a chance to reply, and you’re left staring at the back of her head as she shuts the door behind her, getting an eyeful of her hair which you vaguely notice is the same shade as yours. And it’s only when she’s gone that you realise your mouth is open in shock, and you slowly turn to Steve who looks wholly unbothered.

“Aren’t you going out with Sharon?” You can’t help but blurt out.

Steve raises an eyebrow, but says nothing as he continues to just stare at you. You feel hot all over, and you don’t know whether it’s because of his eyes on you or because of the sudden anger you feel at the blatant display of cheating you’ve just witnessed.

“That’s not fair on your girlfriend, Steve.” You whisper.

And all Steve does is stare at you, to the point where you feel waves of heat on your face. And then suddenly you’re hit with this overwhelming scent of burning firewood. A freshly mown lawn with a strong sun beating down on it, and smoky wood on a hot summer’s day. Your eyes widen as the intimidating alpha walks over to you, leaning down at the table where you’re sitting.

“I don’t remember asking for some lowlife omega’s opinion on my private business.” He says softly, but there’s danger and threat embedded in his words and it makes your blood run cold. But your nose can’t stop twitching as it takes in his heady scent, and you feel your mind cloud over and your limbs grow weak like jelly and–

“I’d appreciate it if you’d put a shirt on in front of my girlfriend, Stevie.” Bucky chuckles, elbowing past Steve and making his way over to you. He helps you up and plants a firm kiss to your lips. You’re still rattled by the blonde alpha, though, and distractedly kiss your boyfriend back. You can still feel Steve’s eyes on you, and it’s unnerving to say the least.

“You ready to go, princess?” Bucky tugs at your hand and you nod, allowing him to pull you out of the house. It’s only when the fresh outside air whips against your face that you seem to snap out of whatever trance you’re in. You swallow and shake your head as Bucky leads you to his car, and you only speak once both of you are inside.

“Steve did something awful.” You breathe.

Bucky frowns before squeezing your arm, “What? Did he touch you?”

“N-No, he…” You shake your head, feeling a wave of anger overtake you momentarily, “He had a girl over, James. He was cheating on his girlfriend!”

“Oh.”

The silence is louder than ever as Bucky starts up the car and backs out of the driveway. He puts his arm over the back of your seat as he looks over his shoulder, and it’s not until he’s on the main road that you huff:

“Is that all you have to say?”

Bucky grimaces, keeping his eyes glued to the road, “Look, Steve isn’t exactly in love with Sharon.”

“But she’s his girlfriend, Bucky. He shouldn’t be cheating on her either way!”

“I know, I know. What can I say?” He pauses, as if mulling over how to say his next words. “Look, princess. Steve’s young, he’s only in college. It’s what us guys do. Why have one piece of the pie when you can have the whole thing, you know? That sort of thing.”

It only takes Bucky about three seconds to realise the error in his words. You turn to stare at him in utter shock and horror. Was this really James? Your James? Who had said all the right things and been so sweet and gentlemanly all these weeks? Who had respected your boundaries and never questioned you or lashed out for wanting to wait?

“Is that why you’re so okay with us not having sex?” You say quietly. “Because you’re getting it from somewhere else?”

“What? No, sweetheart. No, that’s not it at all.”

Bucky turns into a random lane and stops the car before turning to you. You try to bat him off but he grabs both your hands in his, bringing them up to his lips and pressing kisses on your fingers and palms before yanking you into an embrace.

“I’m sorry. That was a terrible thing for me to say.” He mumbles into your hair, and you try to find solace in his scent but it’s not strong enough right now. He kisses the top of your head before drawing back to make eye contact. “Princess, I’m not seeing anyone else behind your back, that I can promise you.”

“But how can I believe you? When it was so easy for you to justify what Steve’s doing?” You sniffle.

Bucky sits back in his seat and sighs, but he doesn’t let go of your hands. “Look, it’s no secret that us alphas are all a bunch of assholes. We don’t really hide it, either. Steve’s cheating on his girl because, well, it’s almost normal for a lot of us to do that. And I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t slept with multiple girls without them knowing about each other in the past.”

You bow your head, not liking this at all. But Bucky grabs your chin gently, lifting it up so you look at him.

“But I’m past all of that now, okay? I really like being in a serious and committed relationship with you, princess. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted in a girl, and I would never even think of being with anyone else.” He cups your face and strokes your cheek, and his eyes are so pretty and blue, and you can feel your heart melting already as he gives you a peck. “I guess I just wasn’t surprised by what Steve did because I’m so used to it.”

You nuzzle your face into his palm, “Can’t you tell him that it’s wrong? That you’ve grown out of doing stuff like that, and that he should too?”

Bucky chuckles, pressing your cheeks and nose with more soft kisses, “I could. But Steve is extremely stubborn and bossy, in case you haven’t noticed.” He pauses, smiling fondly at you when you giggle softly in agreement, twining a piece of your hair around his finger. “The way I see it, we should just focus on our relationship, and let Steve do whatever it is he’s doing since it’s got nothing to do with us. It took meeting the right girl for me to recognise the error of my ways. Maybe soon, he’ll find someone that he’ll want to be better for too, right?”

You nod, despite that weird feeling surfacing inside you once more. But you shove it back down and give Bucky a smile as he pulls you in for another long kiss.

“Well, let’s get to that movie, shall we? We’ve probably missed the opening credits and I’m gonna have to cut the line to get us our snacks, but I think we can still make it.”

You spend the rest of the evening at the drive-in movie theatre with Bucky. He reclines his seat and makes you climb over the console to sit in his lap while the two of you watch Gone with the Wind on the big screen with a bag of sweet and salty popcorn and a bar of chocolate to share. Once the snacks finish, you sleepily rest your head on his chest and let him stroke your back through your hoodie. And you almost fall asleep like that, Scarlett O’Hara’s indignant dialogues lulling you into a peaceful slumber until your nostrils are unceremoniously invaded with the scent of burning firewood and a hot summer’s day.

Opening your eyes slowly, you peak out the window to see another car pull up beside Bucky’s. And your heart sinks down to the depths of your chest when you see who’s inside. Steve. And Sharon. She’s talking to him animatedly, but he seems sullen and unresponsive as always. That is, until they start making out, and you have to forcibly look away when Steve’s eyes meet yours and you feel this burning feeling in your chest.

You swallow harshly before cuddling up to Bucky even more.

“James, I’m sleepy,” you say softly.

“Yeah? You wanna go home, princess?”

“Yes, please. If that’s okay?”

“Sure, princess.” He lifts you up and places you back on the passenger seat before pressing a kiss on your forehead. “Close your eyes and rest. I’ll tuck you into bed once we get back to your dorm.”

And he does just that, carrying you all the way back into your dorm room and helping you change before putting you to bed. And you can’t describe whatever it is you’re feeling but all you can do is clutch at his shirt when he goes to leave, pulling him into bed with you. And he rains your face with a billion kisses before you both fall asleep in each other’s arms.

***

Life at college continues. You’re still in contact with Peter, despite the two of you being so busy. But he sends you updates about his internship and all the cool technology he’s being exposed to. You tell him about your classes and all the interesting things you’re learning. You also, very tentatively, tell him about Bucky. Surprisingly, Peter seems supportive, and the conversation between the two of you grows easy once more.

The romance between you and Bucky seems to blossom with every passing day. He carries your books to class and takes you out on cute dates that make your heart flutter. Picnics, scenic walks, movies, restaurants – he takes you everywhere you’ve ever dreamed of being taken. And how your heart had skipped a beat when you’d seen he’d had a bouquet of yellow roses delivered to your dorm room! There was no note or tag attached, but you knew they were from Bucky. Who else could they be from? And they were the prettiest flowers you’d ever received, and the butterflies in your tummy fluttered at his perfect choice.

It was also in the little things he did, like kiss you on the forehead reassuringly or squeeze your hand when you’re feeling nervous. And slowly, you feel yourself coming out of your shell more and more. You find yourself laughing out loud and voicing your opinions that usually you would’ve kept silent.

Being Bucky’s girlfriend meant hanging out with his group of friends, too. And it thrills you that you’re able to hold conversations with some of them, and have them be genuinely interested in what you have to say and not just write you off as a “dumb omega”.

One day, you find yourself sitting on Bucky’s lap in the campus courtyard between classes, a number of his friends surrounding you. You still feel nervous around this many people (especially intimidating seniors) but with Bucky squeezing your hand reassuringly, you find the task less daunting than you normally would, as you grow to feel more comfortable with them.

Well, most of them.

“…and then I told her to fuck off, because who knows what kind of diseases she was carrying. I mean, she’s fucked half the football team after all.” Steve says cockily, taking a drag from his cigarette while the alphas around him all laugh as if he’s cracked the funniest joke of the century. Even Bucky chuckles before you shoot him a look and he stops, a sheepish look on his face.

“I mean sure, she’s got a great ass, but there’s nothing attractive about a slut who spreads her legs for any man who looks her way.” The blond alpha continues, and it irritates you how all his friends seem to hang on to his every word, looking up to him like he’s some sort of God.

Having been with Bucky long enough, you had somewhat cracked the hierarchy of his friend group. And Steve was definitely the leader, the one they all flocked to and tried to impress. Well, not Bucky – he and Sam were the only ones who would keep Steve in check. But the blonde alpha’s ego was through the roof, as were his misogynistic ideals and derogatory views towards omegas and women in general.

And you hated how shy you were, especially around him. You felt sickened by Steve’s gross statements but you could never say anything against him. A part of you just wanted to be liked and accepted by Bucky’s best friend, but Steve only alternated between glaring at you or pretending you didn’t exist.

“HI, BABY!”

A high-pitched squeal knocks you out of your reverie, and you watch as Sharon jogs up to Steve in her pretty blue cheerleading outfit. Together, they look like the perfect couple. Head cheerleader and the captain of the football team. Perfect. You feel that weird feeling bubbling up inside you again but do your best to keep it at bay.

Steve rolls his eyes before Sharon launches herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and planting her lips on his. Steve, however, remains stoic.

“Gosh, baby, could you please put that cigarette out?” Sharon says, pushing a wayward lock of Steve’s blonde hair off his forehead.

“No.”

She giggles, shaking her head before turning to you. “Men, huh? Stubborn as ever. I’ve asked him to stop smoking about a bajillion times, but he never listens.”

You smile and nod, feeling stupid and awkward as ever because Sharon is pretty and popular and you don’t know how to act.

“I like your pin.” Sharon points at the World Politics Society pin on your bookbag, “I couldn’t even dream of getting into that class. You must be really smart.”

Steve snorts but everyone ignores him.

“Thank you, I find the subject really interesting,” you reply.

You watch Sharon as she talks to everyone in the group. She’s kind, confident and beautiful – everything you wish you were. But that weird, indescribable feeling keeps surfacing inside you every time she locks hands with Steve, or brushes his hair back, or smooths the wrinkles on his sweater.

“And Mister Barnes, how come I’ve never met your girlfriend before now? When she’s practically my sister-in-law?” Sharon hits Bucky lightly on the arm before shooting you another bright smile. “We should organise a double-date. Me and Steve and you both. That sounds fun, doesn’t it?”

Steve scoffs but everyone ignores him.

“Epically fun, Miss Carter.” Bucky gives her a charming smile before tugging you close to his chest. “We could go bowling or something. If His Highness is up for it.”

Steve takes another drag of his cigarette, saying nothing. In fact, he’s barely said a word since his girlfriend joined the conversation, and you find that to be weirdly peculiar. Why was he even with her if all he did was cheat on her and ignore her every time she spoke?

“Looking forward to it!” Sharon smiles before checking her phone, “Okay, I gotta go now or else I’ll be late for practice. I’ll see you tonight, baby?” She gives Steve a peck on the lips, which he also doesn’t return.

“Sure.” Steve answers, finally seeming to snap out of it as his hand meanders down to squeeze her ass. You feel your own hand clench into a fist but you quickly relax it and hope no one saw. What the heck was that? Why had you reacted that way?

“What a fuckin’ bitch.” Steve resumes once Sharon is out of earshot. “As I was saying, I told this other whore who was all over me the other day that I just wasn’t interested in sluts like her, and she said–”

“Could you stop being such a misogynistic jerk?!”

You can’t believe the words have left your mouth, and your hands start shaking immediately once you realise they have. Never before have you raised your voice at someone like this, let alone a formidable alpha who’s about twice your size.

Steve’s cold blue eyes rest their steely gaze on you, when up until this point he’d been content on pretending you weren’t there. You dare peak up at him and see his jaw tick, and a vein protrude from the side of his forehead.

“What did you just say to me?” He asks softly.

“Hey, leave her alone.” Bucky says warningly, but you sit up straight.

“I’m… I’m sorry, but I just don’t like how you talk about women.” You say, hating how your voice shakes and how you can’t look Steve in the eye.

“And I don’t like the tone you’re taking with me right now.” Steve’s intense gaze bores holes straight through you before he looks at Bucky, “Haven’t you taught her not to speak to her superiors like that?”

Your jaw drops open in pure shock, “H-How dare you–”

“Okay, let’s go.” Bucky hoists you to your feet while your whole body seems to shake with shock, anger, and a tiny bit of fear. The brunet alpha holds you tightly by the arm before evenly glancing back at his best friend. “Steve, don’t speak to my girl like that. In fact, if you’re going to be rude, then don’t speak to her at all.”

You and Bucky don’t stick around to hear Steve’s retort, and it’s only when you round a corner and are hidden from the rest of the group by a brick wall, that you burst into tears.

“He’s – so – awful!” You cry, your heart pitter-pattering in a mix of fear and hurt. You hated being spoken to like that, like you were beneath him. Bucky holds you close and you sob into his chest, hugging him as hard as you can. His solidness and wintery scent is a source of comfort to you, and so is his hand which rubs your back soothingly.

“He shouldn’t have spoken to you like that, princess. I’ll make sure to speak to him about it later.” Bucky promises you, pressing soft kisses to your hairline while you cry, leaving splotchy tear-stains on his shirt.

“Why is he even with Sharon when he doesn’t seem happy with her at all?!” You burst out, desperately wiping at your teary eyes except it doesn’t stop you from crying even more. “He’s just…I just… Oh, I hate him, James! I hate him, I hate him, I hate him!”

“I know, sweetheart. I know. I’ll talk to him, don’t you worry.”

Looking into his earnest eyes, you can tell Bucky’s intentions are good. And you don’t know if he talks to Steve or not, but you do receive another delivery of yellow roses to your dorm room that very night. This time, there’s a note attached too. “I’m sorry” is all it says, and you can’t help but smile as you hold the roses up to your nose and take in their delicate scent. Bucky was obviously feeling bad about the whole situation – and it wasn’t even his fault!

But clearly, your boyfriend knows you well, because the flowers do lift your mood up a little bit. You place the second bouquet of yellow roses caringly next to the first one. They look expensive and beautiful, and have your entire room smelling heavenly and sweet. It makes you smile and clasp your hands together, and you’re just about to call Bucky when you hear a rustling from outside your window, followed by a series of heavy footsteps.

Strange. Who would be out at this time? And in the bushes outside your dorm room, no less? You decide you’ve probably imagined it, but you close your window and draw your curtains anyways before calling Bucky.

“You’re the best, you know that?” You tell him, a huge smile plastered on your face as you take one last whiff of the roses before flopping down on your bed on top of all your pillows and stuffies.

“I do know that, sweetheart, but it’s nice to hear you say it.” Bucky laughs from the other end of the phone. “It’s also nice to hear you sound so happy.”

You grab your stuffed rabbit and tug his ears mindlessly, “Yeah, I know I acted like a huge cry-baby earlier today.”

“Didn’t I tell you not to worry about it, princess? Anyways, I spoke to Steve.”

Your heart skips a beat, “You did?”

“Yes. Look, he’s set in his traditional ways and he’s stubborn as hell. But he did look like he regretted speaking to you that way, and I don’t think he’ll do it again.”

You breathe a sigh of relief, “Well, that’s all I want. Thank you for speaking to him, James.” There’s a pause, and then you pipe up hesitantly: “And what about Sharon? Is he still going to stay with her?”

“Uh, yeah. Why wouldn’t he?”

BECAUSE SHE’S NOT RIGHT FOR HIM! The omega inside you screeches, and the sheer vitriol you feel makes you sit up straight, eyes wide and hands shaking. What the heck? Where had that outburst even come from?

“Hello? Princess? You still with me?”

You clear your throat and physically shake your head to rid yourself of that weird feeling that seems to be bubbling inside you so often now. But never before had it manifested into your inner thoughts screaming at you like how they just had. You feel hot all over, and quickly place your palm on your forehead to check if you have a fever before remembering Bucky is still on the phone.

“I’m here. Sorry, I just…” What can you even say to him? Without sounding crazy? You take a deep breath. “Thank you for talking to him, James. I’m just glad he won’t be mean anymore. Everything else isn’t really any of my business.”

“That’s good to hear, sweetheart.”

***

True to Bucky’s word, slowly but surely, Steve becomes a lot more bearable to be around. He’s still awful in his misogyny but at least he no longer glares at you or makes you feel unwelcome and uncomfortable when you’re with Bucky and his friends. You still catch him staring at you sometimes, but you must be imagining it because you know he hates you. You try not to care though, and only focus on Bucky.

“I want you to meet my parents, princess.” Bucky says to you one day. The two of you are in your dorm room where you’d just completed an intense study session. Well, you’d been studying while Bucky grew distracted after about ten seconds of staring at his textbook, and proceeded to kiss and touch you while you laughed and batted him off. “And I would like to meet your parents too.”

The smile drops from your face almost instantaneously, and you nervously grab your stuffed rabbit and pull its ears. “Oh, I… Uh…”

“I mean, we’ve been seriously dating for a while now, haven’t we? It’s only right that I get to meet the parents of the girl who captured my heart.”

You smile uneasily, heart feeling like it’s about to beat out of your chest. “What are your parents like?” You blurt out, trying to deflect.

Bucky lies back on your bed, “They’re great. My dad’s a lawyer so he’s always working. My mom is usually at home, though. She makes a great apple pie and she’s also great for when I need advice.”

You smile softly, “She must really love you.”

He blinks. “Of course, she does. All parents love their children.”

He goes on to tell you about how his dad used to take him golfing at the country club when he was younger, and how much he hated it. But he’d always get treated to ice cream afterwards, which was why he agreed to go every time. He tells you about how his mother values family over everything, which was why he went home every other Friday to have dinner with his family, and how he’d love for you to join him on one of those dinners soon.

You nod and agree, but you feel like crying on the inside. There’s a sense of yearning inside you that you can’t seem to get rid of no matter how hard you cuddle into Bucky or how much he kisses you.

His hands slowly slip down to your hips, squeezing gently before meandering up under your hoodie. His touch is tentative yet confident, and usually it excites you. But you always stop him before he goes too far, hoping and praying he doesn’t get mad at you. Which he never does. Instead, the two of you lazily make out on your bed until you fall asleep in each other’s arms. And then the nightmares commence, but when you wake up, you can’t remember them at all.

***

“Ooh, look at the pink bowling balls! And the powder blue ones. Aren’t they cute, Steve?” Sharon clutches Steve’s muscular bicep, her perfectly manicured nails scraping lightly against his pale skin. Steve only grunts in response before shaking her off as him and Bucky go up to the counter to pay for one session of bowling for all of you.

Through Sharon’s pure will and determination, the four of you find yourselves on a double date at the bowling alley. She seemed blissfully unaware of the fact that Steve hated you, or that you didn’t particularly like Steve either, and had practically begged Bucky to organise the date. Bucky had said you didn’t have to do it, but what harm could one night of bowling actually do? Especially since Steve hadn’t really been mean to you for a while now.

“Do I seriously have to wear these ugly bowling shoes?” Sharon complains, gingerly holding up the dirty shoes and making a face.

“Don’t wear them. Let’s see what happens.” Steve pipes up.

Bucky laughs, “Unless you want a broken toe, you better put them on.”

It’s Steve and Sharon against you and Bucky. You’ve bowled a few times, so you’re not embarrassingly bad or anything. Bucky is fairly good too. Surprisingly, Sharon turns out to be extremely skilled at bowling, getting a strike on her first try.

And then there’s Steve.

“Another gutter ball, Rogers!” Bucky doubles over in glee, practically in tears. You try to hide your amused smile and even Sharon can’t help but laugh.

“Shut up!” Steve seethes, looking redder than a tomato as he jams his hands in his pockets and walks back to the bench you’re all sitting on. He casts a quick glance in your direction, his nose twitching. “There’s too many distractions here.”

“What distractions, bro? You’re just a bad player.” Bucky mocks, jabbing his elbow into his friend’s ribs and laughing even harder when the blond gives him an absolutely murderous look.

Bucky gets up and stretches, “I think I need a beer. You want one, Steve?”

Steve flips him off.

“I’ll take that as a yes. You girls want anything?”

“Maybe a strawberry milkshake? Or iced tea sounds good. And I think we should also get some food for Steve before he implodes. Maybe nachos? Or curly fries. I’ll go with you, since that’s a lot to remember.” Sharon gets up.

Bucky presses a kiss to your forehead, “Think you can hold down fort and keep us in the lead until I get back, princess?” He whispers.

You giggle, “I think so. I just need to get a minimum of one pin.”

They leave, and you get up to do your turn. Making your way over to the contraption where they keep all the bowling balls, you can feel Steve’s eyes on you. God, without Bucky and Sharon here, you felt all shy and nervous. Not to mention his scent, which was so overpowering as it settled into your nostrils. Just ignore him, you think to yourself before absentmindedly selecting a bowling ball.

You’ve taken one step towards the bowling lane when the ball slips from your sweaty palms. It’s a lot heavier than you anticipated, and you can’t take the weight as you watch it fall down almost in slow motion. There’s a flurry of movement, Steve moving quick as lightning and batting the ball sideways before it completely crushes your foot. It ends up bouncing on the tip of your toe with a loud thud before rolling away under the table.

“What the fuck inspired you to choose the heaviest ball available? You could have really hurt yourself!” Steve shakes you angrily by the shoulder as you remain frozen in place, still registering what just happened.

“I…I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.” You stammer before suddenly becoming aware of your toe throbbing from where the bowling ball had fallen. Most of its weight had been absorbed by your shoe, but your toe still hurts. And you hate being such a baby, but your lower lip can’t help but quiver, and you feel your eyes well up with tears.

You don’t really register it as Steve’s fingers encircle around your wrist, and he tugs you back to the bench, forcing you down before crouching in front of you.

“Did you hurt yourself? See, this is why little omegas like you shouldn’t be carrying heavy things. I told Bucky bowling was a bad idea.” At the mention of his best friend’s name, Steve instinctively whips his head towards the snack counter, and you do too. Bucky and Sharon are still in line, and with their backs turned and so many people around, you doubt they can see you.

You sniffle, “I didn’t think it would be that heavy.”

“Of course, you didn’t. You’re just a baby omega, and sometimes you don’t think about things like that. Here, let me see.” Before you realise what’s happening, he grabs your ankle with one big, warm hand; and uses the other to unstrap your shoe. You gape at him, the scent of smoky firewood and a freshly mown lawn making you swallow harshly and freeze in place, letting him slip your shoe off.

But it only a takes handful of seconds for you to come back to your senses, and you shake your head and cringe backwards.

“Uh, th-that’s okay, Steve. It stopped hurting now, I think I’ll be fine.”

But his grip on your ankle doesn’t loosen, your shoe falling to the ground and his blue eyes zeroing in on your foot which is covered by just your lacy white ankle sock. The air feels thick around you both, and you feel your breathing start to get laboured as you watch his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallows.

Slowly, tentatively almost, he strokes your foot with his other hand. And a part of you is so acutely aware of how weird this is. You boyfriend’s best friend tending to your injury in the middle of a crowded bowling alley – while Bucky and Sharon were in the same vicinity!

“You’ll be alright.” Steve says gently (the gentlest you’ve ever heard him speak), as he continues to stroke your throbbing toe, “You just need to be more careful, okay?”

You find yourself nodding, your entire body buzzing with some sort of strange energy that you’ve never felt before. “I guess I just got distracted.”

Steve’s hand remains rubbing your toe, but his eyes look up to meet yours. And you almost forget how to breathe, feeling like there’s a bubble encasing the two of you, and everyone else is far, far away. All you can feel is his burning gaze and his hand touching you.

He clears his throat, “Yeah, I’ve been distracted all night too.” And you can’t help but notice how long and dark his lashes are, how they contrast so deeply from his pale hair and skin, how they fan against his cheekbones as he blinks up at you almost earnestly. “Maybe I should drive you home.”

That knocks you out of whatever reverie he’s pulled you into. Drive you home? While his girlfriend and your boyfriend stayed here? Was he insane?

You forcibly tug your foot out of his grasp, quickly putting your shoe back on before he can grab it again. And Steve stays in his crouched position in front of you, almost as if frozen in place. He’s staring at his hand, the one that was holding your ankle, before he looks up at you. There’s a fiery look in his eyes, one you can’t fully explain. You also can’t fully explain why your heart is beating like mad, and there’s a warm feeling spreading through your chest.

“I’m fine, Steve. Really. Thank you for uh… Just… Thanks.” You mumble.

Steve blinks, opening his mouth to speak before he shuts it again when he looks beyond your shoulder. He coughs, standing up to his full height and moving away from you suddenly. And you watch him whip his phone out, pretend he’s texting someone, and all the while your heart just won’t calm down. And then you feel a tap on your shoulder.

“We’ve got snacks!” Sharon announces, skipping over to Steve and handing him a bunch of things, “Here you go, babe. These cheesy fries are literally to die for. Me and Bucky picked at them on the way back here. Oh, and here’s your beer.”

You watch as Sharon simpers at her boyfriend, grabbing his hand and leading him to a nearby bench. Feeding him fries while he bats her hand away, instead grabbing his beer and taking a long swig. His face is still red, and his eyes are still bright, and–

“You okay, princess?” Bucky sits down beside you and puts his arm around you, giving you a tight squeeze. “You look troubled.”

You force a smile, “I’m fine, James.”

“Did Steve say something to you? Do you need me to talk to him again?”

Rapidly, you shake your head. Subconsciously, you’ve already made the decision not to tell Bucky about the weirdness that has just transpired. And the guilt is already eating you up from the inside out, despite the fact you hadn’t done anything. Or hadn’t you? Why had you not pulled away sooner? And why was Steve acting this way? Why was he so gentle, so tender? When every other instance between the two of you has been either him ignoring you, or being rude towards you?

Suddenly, your head hurts.

Bucky seems to understand that something is off with you, because he tells Sharon and Steve that he’s tired and wants to cut the night short. You hug Sharon goodbye, feeling like you want the ground to eat you up whole, before your boyfriend leads you out of the bowling alley.

“Princess, please tell me what’s bothering you.” He says moments later when the two of you are in his car.

You force a smile, “Nothing!”

His light blue eyes, so piercing in the darkness of the car, stare at you as if they can see right through you. But all he does is draw you in for a hug, and you feel your body sag into his. Bucky feels so cosy and safe, so dependable and good. All your worries and concerns dissipate for a moment as you hug him back almost fiercely.

“Well, why don’t we go get some ice cream?” He asks kindly.

You bury your face in his chest, not quite done hugging him yet. Maybe you were just overthinking whatever had happened back there with Steve. Maybe the blond alpha was just trying to turn a new leaf and be kind for once. Maybe his actions had been innocuous after all. You sniffle before looking up at your boyfriend and pressing a long kiss to his lips.

“Okay. Let’s do that.”

Bucky gets a double mint chocolate chip cone and you get a vanilla strawberry swirl. He licks the ice cream that you accidentally smear on the side of your mouth as you dig in, and then you both kiss some more. Sweet kisses and sweet touches laced with giggles. And then he takes you on a drive, and you roll the windows down and let the breeze hit your face as if you’re the main character in an indie film, allowing the cool night air to wash away any remnants of guilt. Bucky’s got one hand on the steering wheel and the other one holding steadily onto yours, squeezing every few seconds and shooting you lovesick smiles that you return.

He parks outside of your dorm building and pulls you over the console and into his lap. And you let him kiss you and touch you and try to lose yourself in it. Try not to think of a hot summer’s day and freshly mown grass. You don’t even stop him when he pushes his hand down your leggings and past your panties, and you gasp into his mouth when you feel his fingers brush against your hot core.

“Are you sure about this, princess?” Bucky breathes against your lips, and you want to cry at how sweet he is. How patient and kind. You don’t deserve him at all. You nod your head to indicate that yes, you are sure. You kiss him doubly hard, trying to drown out the feel of wanting to cry. Because actually no, you’re not sure about this. You don’t know if you’re ready. But you feel so bad, so bad for what happened with Steve.

You didn’t even do anything! The rational part of your brain screams. So then why did it feel like you had?

Bucky moves his fingers expertly inside you, his thumb rubbing your bundle of nerves in a way that does make you momentarily forget about anything else except for his touch. You mewl his name, clutching the fabric of his shirt and rutting against him. His large hands rub up and down your back, his lips warm against your ear as he coaxes you, “That’s right, princess. Let go for me, I’ve got you. I’ve always got you.”

You come hard, body shaking and spasming on top of him as he holds you close to his chest. Praises you for being so good for him, for being so beautiful and perfect. And it’s crazy, because you feel anything but those things right now. But you sob out his name softly, and let him stroke your hair back as he continues to talk you through your orgasm, “That’s it, princess. You’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you? Such a good girl. Thank you for letting me in, sweetheart. Thank you for being so perfect.”

He lets you recover, all the while kissing you. And then he walks you to your room and bids you goodnight. He tells you he’d have stayed the night, but he has to drive home to pick up an important document for his father. You manage a weak smile, and return his kisses before waving goodbye.

And then you shut the door and burst into tears.

And you don’t even know why, because nothing had happened between you and Steve! Nothing at all. But you cry for all the confusion within you, the unresolved feelings of guilt that you can’t understand for the life of you, and how you can’t seem to shake this yearning sadness inside you. Oh, why did Steve have to be so different tonight? Why had his eyes reflected such tenderness? Why had he held your ankle like that? Why hadn’t he let go?

Why did you care so much?

You take a long shower and change into clean, comfortable clothes before trying to distract yourself with Netflix. And that’s when you hear a knock on your door.

It’s another bouquet of yellow roses. You smile at the delivery man – you recognise his face at this point, since he’s been to your dorm room three times now. You marvel at Bucky’s quickness, because he’d only dropped you home about an hour ago. He must have paid for express delivery or something. And this time, the bouquet is accompanied by not only a note, but also a small package.

I really enjoyed our date tonight, baby.

You smile softly at the short but sweet message, before your eyes shift to the package. It’s brown and unsuspecting, with a yellow ribbon holding it together. You gently rip it open.

Coal black eyes stare up at you. A furry little face. Tan coloured fur and a light blue bow-tie. It’s a teddy bear! You can’t help but crack a smile, heart feeling lighter than it has all day. Oh, it was so cute! Like a furry little baby. You hug it close to your chest, the butterflies fluttering happily around in your tummy. You don’t receive gifts too often, and this was a total surprise. And definitely one that was helping lift your lousy mood.

You fall asleep with the teddy in your arms, and no nightmares come. Instead, you dream of warm sunlight splashing down on your skin, and green grass so fresh you can almost smell it. And the silhouette of a shadowy figure who holds you close and promises to keep you safe. And the yearning feel goes away. And you feel content.

***

“Okay, do you want the good news first or the bad news?”

“Uh oh.” You bite your lip, immediately assuming the worst as your hand freezes in the middle of tossing a folded shirt into your overnight bag. Today was the day you and Bucky were driving down to Bucky’s family house, where you were finally going to meet his parents and stay for the weekend. “They don’t like me, do they?”

Bucky snickers over the phone, “Wrong, sweetheart. My parents love you. Well, they love the pictures of you that I showed them from my phone. That’s the good news, actually. They seem genuinely excited to meet you. My mom’s planning a whole five course dinner.”

You resume packing, putting in your pyjama bottoms, an extra hoodie, your plastic bag of toiletries, as well as your new favourite stuffed teddy bear. You force out a chuckle, hoping he can’t detect your anxiety and nervousness over the phone, “That’s good. I really hope I don’t let them down.”

“Let them down? How?”

You chew on your lip and whisper, “By not being good enough…”

“Princess, you’re the prettiest, kindest, sweetest and smartest girl I’ve ever dated. I don’t want you putting yourself down like that, okay?”

“O-Okay.” He was right – it wasn’t healthy to keep thinking of yourself in such a negative light. And it wasn’t like you enjoyed feeling sorry for yourself or drowning in self-pity, you just sometimes let the doubts you had about yourself creep in and take over your mind. Despite the fact that since day one, Bucky had been reassuring you about how perfect you were.

But would a perfect girlfriend be feeling as guilty as you were?

“What’s the bad news?” You ask, trying to push your thoughts to the back of your mind and focus on the conversation with your boyfriend.

Bucky sighs, “So, I had to actually stop by my dad’s office to sort out some paperwork. He only trusts me to do it, and since I’ll be working at his firm once I graduate, I figured it would be a good chance for me to show him that I’m actually competent with stuff like that.”

You nod, “That makes sense.”

“But that means I’ll be tied up all morning, so I won’t be able to drive you back to my house in Brooklyn.”

“Oh.” You let the words sink in. “That’s alright, James. I can just take the train.”

“Uh, I don’t think so, princess. But listen, Steve is going home for the weekend too, and his parents are practically neighbours with mine. He offered to give you a lift.”

You feel your whole body begin to shake as soon as his name is mentioned. It’s been a few days since the double date, and since what you’ve dubbed in your head as “the ankle incident.” Even now, your heart flutters at the memory, and you can still feel his warm fingers brushing over your foot as he’d held it in his hands and stroked you so softly. And when you close your eyes, you can see that earnest look on his face, and–

“Bucky, I really don’t mind taking the train.”

“Sweetheart, I know you don’t mind. But I mind, I don’t want my girl taking the train when you could easily just drive there.” There’s a pause as Bucky inhales deeply, “Look, I know you and Steve aren’t exactly the best of friends. But I really think he’s trying to turn a new leaf and be a nicer person. I mean, he actually volunteered to drive you, which is progress. And if I’m being honest, it would really give me peace of mind if I knew you were in the car with one of my friends instead of alone on a crowded, dingy train.”

“James, I really don’t think–”

“Please, sweetheart? For me?”

You exhale slowly, clasping your hands together to stop them from shaking. If Bucky had so much faith in Steve, then maybe it was you who was overthinking everything. Maybe Steve genuinely was turning a new leaf, and who were you to deny someone when they were doing you a favour? The drive down to Brooklyn would be long, but not too long. And Steve hadn’t been mean to you for many weeks now, so maybe it would all be okay?

“Okay, Bucky. If that’s what you want.” You agree softly.

“Great! Steve told me to tell you that he’ll pick you up at 3.”

***

Steve arrives outside your dorm at 2:55pm. Actually, you see his car pull up at around 2:45, and then you watch him park it and sit there drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. And then he gets out of the car and paces around for a while before finally making his way over to your door and knocking on it rather loudly. You give him a quiet hello and he gives you a grunt in return, the exchange giving you a sick feeling in your tummy – would it be this quiet and awkward for the whole journey? Before you can worry some more, Steve takes your overnight bag from your hands and leads you to his car.

“Put your seatbelt on.” He orders you the moment you sit down in the passenger seat.

“I was just about to.” You respond, a tad defensive because he hadn’t even given you a chance to breathe before he’d started ordering you around.

“Just do it.”

“Okay.”

He doesn’t start the car until your seatbelt is firmly in place, and then you sit there twiddling your thumbs in silence because Steve doesn’t even have the radio on. You wonder if you should start a conversation, but you feel too shy. Which is crazy, since you’d really been starting to come out of your shell these past few months. But not with Steve. He was way too intimidating and scary and just… intense.

“How’s your toe?” He asks you gruffly out of the blue about ten minutes into the journey.

“It’s all good, thank you for asking.” Your response is cordial, and you wonder if you sound bitchy or clipped. It certainly isn’t your intention, but you’ve definitely got your guard up and you don’t really know how to speak to him.

Steve sighs, and there’s another fifteen minutes of silence before he pulls into a traffic jam, and that’s when he turns to face you.

“I broke up with Sharon.”

Your eyes widen and you feel your heart skip a beat, “Oh…uh…Oh.”

He nods, “Yeah. I took your advice.”

That makes you snap out of whatever momentary shock his sudden revelation had put you in. “My advice? Wh-What do you mean?”

The car starts moving again, and Steve takes his time to reply, and you wonder whether he can hear your heart pitter-pattering loudly in your chest as you anticipate his response.

“I’ve heard you, you know. All those times you complained to Bucky, asking him why I was with Sharon if I clearly didn’t care about her. And you were right, so I took your advice and I dumped her.”

You clear your throat, nervously tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear, “I didn’t mean… Well… She deserves better, Steve.” You inhale deeply and turn to look out the window – either out of awkwardness or because you can’t seem to meet his gaze. But he’s got a weird pull about him, practically reeling you back in and you can’t help but look back at him once he starts speaking again.

“I told her I wasn’t interested in her anymore. That I was in love with somebody else.” Steve takes a turn off the highway, and you sit there frozen in shock as he takes quick left and right turns, eventually driving into a small, deserted street, where he parks the car. You swallow, but there’s a huge lump in your throat that you can’t seem to get rid of.

“Wh-Why are we stopping here, Steve?”

“I like how my name sounds when you say it.” His hand creeps over the console in a bid to grab yours, and you quickly move back. Your back slams against the door as you cringe away from him, eyes wide and heart racing.

“Wh-What are you doing? Stop!”

Steve scoffs, “Please. Don’t play dumb, I know you like me too. And the sooner you stop denying it, the easier all of this will be for you.”

You can hardly believe what you’re hearing, it’s almost like your own ears are playing tricks on you. As if you’re Alice falling down some weird rabbit hole into a dimension where nothing makes sense. Was this a joke? Was he pulling some sort of prank? But he’s got that same earnest, honest look in his eyes, the look he’d had at the bowling alley. But you swallow and shake your head rapidly.

“Steve, no, I’m with James. He’s my boyfriend, I don’t like you like that –”

“DON’T LIE!” Steve bursts out, and the sudden explosion of anger makes you jump out of your seat, and the panic that ensues in your heart has you grabbing the door handle in a desperate bid to get out of the car and away from him. But of course, the door remains locked, and now you can really feel the cold terror and dread as it overtakes your body.

Steve exhales slowly, running a hand through his blonde hair, “Don’t. Lie.” He repeats, reaching over to forcibly grab your wrist. And his touch alone sense goosebumps up and down your arm. “I knew we had a connection from the moment I saw you. And then at the bowling alley on our date, I knew you felt it too.”

“Y-You mean our double date,” you say slowly, incredulity dripping from your tone, “where you were with your girlfriend and I was with my boyfriend.”

Steve shakes his head, his grip on your wrist tightening, “You were the only one I could focus on that night.” And then, as you watch in horror, he brings your hand up to his lips, kissing it as his eyes flutter shut, almost like he’s savouring kissing your skin for the first time. And you feel every cell in your body, from the top of your head to the bottom of your toes, flutter as he does it. He locks eyes with you, “And I saw how you reacted that night when you opened my gift, that’s how I knew you liked me too.”

His gift? The terror in your veins seems to triple in less than a second, and you feel like you might throw up. You think back to all those bouquets of yellow roses with no name on the notes that accompanied them. And your favourite stuffed teddy with the coal black eyes and blue bow tie. No. No, it couldn’t be. And he’d watched you open them? How?

“N-No, those were from James!” You bat at him, trying to get him to let go of your hand. You suddenly can’t breathe, can’t think. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. “Those flowers were from James!”

“Sure.” Steve snorts, “Is that why you never even mentioned them to him? You knew deep down they weren’t from him, omega. You knew.”

“No, no, no–”

“And how could they be from him? He doesn’t understand you. Not like I do.” He tries to cup your cheek with his warm hand but you dodge him, shaken down to your very core by all the revelations hurtling towards you at top speed. Steve narrows his eyes at you for a second, before grabbing your hand again. “You think he doesn’t tell me everything, omega? You think I don’t know that you haven’t even let him fuck you yet?”

You feel you’ve just been doused with a bucket of ice-cold water, and all you can do is gape helplessly at Steve, any words you may have had on the tip of your tongue now firmly lodged in the back of your throat.

Steve smirks, “That’s right. He told me you haven’t let him fuck you, and it’s been what, three months since you guys started going out?”

“I wanted to wait till I was ready.” You whisper.

“You keep telling yourself that.” Steve laughs bitterly, “But you and I both know the truth, which is that you’ll never be ready. Not for him. Because you don’t want him to fuck you, you don’t want that intimacy with him.” He yanks you closer with the hold he has on your wrist, till your foreheads are almost touching and you’re frozen in place by not only your fear but something else too. Something warm and inviting.

“If you were my girlfriend, you’d already be three months pregnant.”

Your jaw drops open, only a tiny squeak making its way out past your lips. It’s as if he’s stolen all the air from your lungs, and all the thoughts from your brain. You feel hot all over, but also numb. You feel nothing yet everything all at once, and you can’t believe what he’s saying.

“But that’s okay, we still have plenty of time for that.” Steve nods determinedly, his eyes clouding over with an almost wistful, faraway look. “Baby, I have a plan for us. I’m graduating soon, and I want you by my side as the mother of my children. You’re perfect for me, and I’ll give you the family you crave.”

It’s like he’s lit a candle inside you. A tiny, almost minuscule candle of hope fuelled by the picture his words paint, but it flames fiercely nevertheless. Until you forcibly snuff it out and shake your head once more, and deliver more futile pushes to get him to let you go.

“Y-You’re crazy! I don’t want that, Steve! I don’t want any of that!”

“You do.”

“No, I don’t!”

“Yes. You do.” Steve sneers, twisting your arm when you grow more desperate, your movements ceasing as you stare up at him helplessly. But his face remains stoic, and a wild piece of blonde hair flops down over his forehead. “I told you; Bucky tells me everything. How you never really fully open up to him, how you get closed off and distant and sad sometimes and he can’t figure out why because you never tell him.”

“Th-That’s between me and him–”

“Don’t you get it?” He grabs you by the shoulders, shaking you as if he’s had an epiphany and wants you to have it too. “I’m the one who knows you, omega. Not him.” His hand reaches up to cup the wide of your face again, and this time he succeeds because you’re frozen in place. His voice softens, “I know you feel like your mother doesn’t care about you. I know you feel lonely despite being in a relationship with Bucky. I know you felt like this even in your previous relationship before Bucky. And I know you don’t have a dad, and I know it hurts–”

“No, no, no, no!” The tears are welling up in your eyes now, and you feel like you can’t breathe. Like you’re hyperventilating and there’s no escape and you can’t run away because this stupid car is locked and you’re in the middle of nowhere and you’ve never told anyone about your dad! You never talk about that with anyone. You don’t even think about it! How did he know?!

“Hey, hey, calm down.” Steve rubs his wrists over your face, and the tranquil effect of a hot midsummer afternoon warms you from the inside out. You feel your heartbeat go back to normal, and you’re able to breathe again. You look up to see Steve’s face inches away from yours, and all you can feel are the pads of his thumbs slowly stroking your cheekbones, and for the life of you, you can’t explain why you just let him do it.

“Do you ever get that yearning feeling, baby?” He asks you softly, so softly that you almost don’t hear it. His blue eyes sparkle with determination and earnesty, and he holds your face so carefully in his hands. “Tell me, do you ever get that feeling? Of wanting something so bad but you can’t seem to figure out what it is?”

“Yes.” You whisper hushedly, dropping your head in shame. Your heart throbs with the same guilt that you’ve been feeling for days now. Horrific, unforgiving guilt that washes through your body in taunting waves.

Steve kisses you then. And it feels like everything around you seems to stand still. Every particle, every atom, every hair, every speck of dust freezes in place. You close your eyes, and it’s like the sun itself descends down to the earth, making everything bask in its addicting glow. Fireworks and explosions behind your eyes and all around you, his warmth enveloping you like a hug. An embrace of delicious heat that feels like you’re home. Really home, and it’s something you’ve never felt before.

And then you start crying.

“I can’t do this to him.” You pull away, and the panic you feel is almost immediate. “Steve, I… We can’t do this to Bucky. He’s so good to me, he doesn’t deserve this! We can’t, we can’t–”

“He’ll understand.” Steve says firmly, keeping a tight hold on you. “It’ll be hard for him, but once he sees that we’re in love, he’ll understand. And it’s good for him too, because this way he can find a mate who is better suited for him.”

Through the haze of Steve’s smoky firewood and hot summer day scent, you think back to Bucky and his crinkled smile. How he’d been the first one to speak to you on your first day, how he’d walked you to the library and how at ease you’d felt with him. How his lopsided smile, sparkling eyes and effortless charm had reeled you in. All the nights spent cuddling or watching TV or just talking and talking and talking. How respectful he’d been of your boundaries; how sweet and patient and intuitive he’d been any time you felt uncomfortable or upset.

How he’d complimented you every chance he got, building up your self-esteem through his love and adoration. How his easy-going nature made you feel so comfortable… But yet not comfortable enough to let him in. And that’s when the guilt seems to attack every cell of your body, killing you from the inside out. Why? Why couldn’t you just let Bucky in? Why couldn’t you just love him? Why, why, why?

Why did it have to turn out this way?

“No.” You shake your head, trying to shake away the thick haze of Steve’s scent which seems to be corrupting your every sense. And when you next speak, your voice is firmer, and you wipe the tears from your face, and you sit up straight, and you shrug his hands off of you. “No, Steve. We can’t do this. I need to get out, I need to–”

Steve’s eyes narrow once more, “Omega, listen to me–”

“Let me out of this car! Just let me out, okay! I’m not doing this to him! You’re wrong, Steve! You’re wrong, wrong, wrong! I don’t like you like that!” You rattle the door handle desperately, but of course it doesn’t budge. “Let me out, Steve! I can’t think in here, I need to get out! I need to speak to Bucky, I need to… I need to…”

You feel yourself going lax in his arms, your limbs turning to jelly as he places his hand on your mating gland, fingers pressing down. It sends thrills and shivers up and down your body as he draws you back to him, closer and closer till he’s embracing you.

“I’m your alpha.” Steve whispers in your ear, and the possessiveness in his tone rocks you to your very core. “You’re my omega, all mine. It’s like you were made for me. And that’s all that matters.”

You’re about to protest once more, and then you feel his teeth graze against your mating gland. It feels peculiar, thrilling, dangerous all at the same time. But the threat of his action doesn’t register immediately, and it takes you a second too long to realise, and then–

“No, Steve, don’t! Don’t!”

A blood-curdling scream leaves your mouth. Steve’s teeth are sharp and unforgiving as they clamp down on your mating gland. And his bite if so painful, like he’s chipping and tearing away at any traces of autonomy left in your body. The sensitive skin of your neck breaks and tears along with the last remnants of your independence.

Everything stills around you. Everything but Steve. He’s all you can feel now. His heartbeat, loud and wild. Or is that your heartbeat? Everything feels different, nothing is the same. It’s all Steve. All of your senses are Steve. All of your feelings are Steve.

“I’m never gonna let you go.” Steve whispers against the fresh wound on your neck, licking at his handiwork which will soon turn into a mark that brands you as his forever.

His presence around you is infinite. The intense heat of his aura mixed with his addictive scent, hitting you from all angles like a tidal wave.

And, like a bittersweet film coming to an end, it washes away the memory of Bucky before you even have the chance to say goodbye.

SDKGKSLAG OKAY.

So.... did I just present y’all with a Steve x omega fic disguised as Bucky fic?? Despite hyping the Bucky fic for MONTHS? Well... *dodges tomatoes* Yes. Yes I did. I’M SORRY BUCKY GIRLIES. STOMEGA FOREVER. This was the plan from the start, because it doesn’t matter if Bucky asked for omega’s number first - she would always end up with Steve. In any AU. In every AU. ANYWAYS. GUYS. I hope you liked it and I hope you’re not mad! I really really really would love to know what yall thought! Like genuinely, I jsut NEED to know what you guys thought of this bc honestly... I am not so sure AHHHHH. okay i’ll shut up now. Bye.

[tookthe-405]

Hard to sleep

bsf!ellie x bsf!reader

Masc!ellie x fem!reader

summary: Modern au where you and Ellie are best friends and in college together. About the queer situationship so many of us had with our best friend :,)

It’s angsty but still fluffy I swear 😪

(Happy End)

c.w: smut!!, weed, mention of alcohol and drugs and long af and I think that’s it but speak up if i missed something!!!

authors note: this is my first fic so please be nice to me, but still give critic so I can write better next time 🫶

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

“Wakey wakey sunshine it’s time to get upp”

You sigh annoyed thinking you’re still asleep and dreaming some shit, because of course Ellie follows you into your dreams.

“Dude get the fuck up” this time her voice doesn’t sound so subdued and you jump out of your sleep.

“Holy fuck”

You Look at Ellie whose casually going through your dorm room, packing your bag for you.

“You really need to stop oversleeping the classes that are the most important to you and going to the ones no one cares about”

You sigh still tired and feeling your heart beating way too fast and loud.

“You really need to stop showing up here when I’m unconscious, you always scare the shit out of me”

“I literally called you sunshine, how does that scare you?”

You giggle a bit and sit up straight, stretching yourself before standing up completely.

Ellie gives you your packed bag and you take it, still in pjs.

“You do know by the time I’m done, the lecture will be almost over” you mention to her as you open the braid form last night.

“Who said I’m waiting for you huh?”

“Um I do?”

You Look at her grinning, she sits at your desks while watching you do your hair with her green eyes following almost every move.

You Look Away quickly and go to the bathroom to brush your teeth.

Sometimes it feels like there’s a time limit when you two look at each other, like you have to watch out that it’s not too long and not too short. Most of the time Ellie doesn’t care and just keeps staring, but for you it’s important to not cross the friendship line. No one looks at their best friends for too long, no one worries about looking at their best friend too long.

You just don’t want to fuck this up.

“You should wear a skirt today”

“Huh?”

Ellie appears in the door.

“It’s hot today you should wear something short” she says again

“This your way of making me wear skirts for you?”

Ellie chuckles in her casual husky voice.

“Yeah that’s exactly what I’m doing”

“That was so fucking boring, you could’ve let me missed this one too Ellie” you whine

Ellie groans as the both of you walk to one of the cafe’s on campus, meeting your roommate Audrey and some of Ellies friends as well.

“I’m like 90% sure he said important stuff in the beginning and we just missed it because of you”

“Yeah yeah whatever I’m sorry ellie, I’ll try fixing my sleep schedule okay?”

“I’ll ask Audrey too take away your laptop and phone maybe you’ll have a chance then”

You bump your shoulder into hers and she giggles.

It doesn’t take much too make you feel nostalgic when you spend time with Ellie. Only warm air, sunshine and her laugh.

That’s all you’ll ever need and that all you’ll never have forever.

“I’m gonna meet up with Iris later”

Her tone sounds natural, no hesitation and you are sure she doesn’t know what her words do to you.

And the worst part is you can’t even be mad at her, you have no right to be.

You look down at your shoes that go in the same tact with Ellie’s, over and over again.

“Really? Was she the one with the braids?”

Ellie nods and you try to make some eye contact. You don’t want her to feel bad, even tho you’re sure she has no idea how you actually feel, and you always try to be happy for her. But maybe you want her to get it. Maybe you want her to see how you look at her, maybe then she’ll finally understands.

But she just keeps walking and looking forward.

“There wasn’t a frat party in so long you have to come!”

Audrey is basically begging, she even pulls your arm.

“Everyone is talking about it in my class, since it’s the last one before everyone is going home so they wanna party big” Jesse explains with a big smirk on his face.

Ellie and you look at each other from across the table, sipping your ice coffees.

You give her a uncertain look, you know she’ll go if you go and you’ll go if she does.

“Who’s gonna be there?” She asks and your eyes land on Dina, who normally knows every human alive.

“Everyone I hope but I’m sure a few won’t go so why don’t you just tell me her name Ellie?” Dina says, a teasing look on her face and your heart feels heavy again.

“Iris. I sit with her in biology”

“Aw cute you sit with her?” Audrey says mocking her friendly, but she gives you a empathetic look. She’s the only one who knows about your feelings, since she was the one who was with you when you got a bit too drunk and told her about all the feeling you ever had.

Ellie looks at you for just a second, but thank god you didn’t miss it, and your cheeks turn red. You keep drinking your drink.

“Yes I know her she’s sweet but I don’t know if she’ll be there”

Ellie immediately grabs her phone and types something in it.

Jesse goes ordering something and Dina talks with Audrey about the party and what to wear.

Your feet kicks Ellie’s softly, so she looks up at you.

“Just ask her if you could met there, I’m sure she doesn’t mind” you say trying to sound as supportive as possible.

Ellie looks unsure and you grab her arm soft, feeling the fabric of her flannel jacket she’s so obsessed with.

“She likes you Ellie, god how couldn’t she and she should be happy about spending some time with you and you’re friends. I know it would make you feel more relaxed too, knowing you’re not alone” you try to whisper it but Audrey and Dina are loud talker anyway.

You smile at her and take your hand back. Ellie looks at you and her cheeks turn a slightly pink shade. She was never good with sentimental talk, too bad you’re so good at it.

“You don’t have to meet her yet you know” she says finally.

“What do you mean? Why shouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know… I wasn’t sure if you wanted too”

“I’m your best friend why would you think that Ellie?”

“I don’t know I just… never mind it’s stupid”

She starts looking at her phone again but you keep staring at her confused, angry and even a bit sad. You’re pretty positive that you weren’t obvious at all for the past years, so what did you do to fuck up so bad?

“Okay she’ll be there”

“Yeah?” Jesse asks, sitting down again with a sandwich in his hand.

“Yup she says she heard about it too and wanted to ask me if I would like to go”

“Damn that’s some soulmate shit” he says chuckling and you look out the window for something distracting

“It’s gonna be fine, if it’s too much for you we can leave” Audrey tries to comfort you.

“I’m gonna be okay Audrey don’t worry, i think I can do this” you know you actually can’t do this.

“I think this is all just in your head, the whole “Being scared of losing her” thing” she mentions quiet.

It’s not just that your scared of losing her, your scared of wanting her so much that you can’t control it anymore and then losing her.

“Just go ahead with the others, I think I’ll take a bit longer… I’m just gonna take an Uber” you keep digging through your closet searching for anything you would like to wear.

“You sure?” Audrey voice sounds unsure.

“Yes it’s a short drive I’ll be fine”

“Fine but if you change your mind then I’m more than fine with just watching a movie with you Here”

“I won’t I promise we’re gonna have fun tonight” you smile at her as she walks out the door saying goodbyes and waving quickly.

Right after she left you could hear your own thoughts way too clear and it felt like your mind was ready to destroy the whole evening.

You stare at your wardrobe searching for something, but this unsettling feeling is eating you from the inside and you lay down on the bed again, putting your face in your hands.

The tears just rush down your cheeks and your body lets them. You imagine the time where Ellie has a girlfriend wife, a woman that is more important than you and the person she wants to do all the things you want to do with her. You’ll have to be at their wedding and at their house to eat fucking dinner once a year.

You would do a lot for Ellie to want you as this person, but you tell yourself that you’re not gonna cry here because that won’t change anything.

You take your phone from the night stand next to you and open the camera, seeing mascara all over your cheeks.

“Fuck” you whisper annoyed

You try to whip them away, then you get a text from Ellie.

I’m gonna pick you up in an hour okay

What about iris? Shouldn’t you pick her up?

I wanna pick up you tho, she’ll be fine we said we would meet at the party

You don’t have to do that Ellie

I get it really

I want to pick you up. Is that okay with you miss?

I can hear you say this in my head

Shut up and get ready dork

You smile and the smile tastes like hope and assurance and love.

In the end you decided to wear a shirt mint green dress that has a V cut with a little cute white bow in the middle. Since how to walk in heels is a fucking mystery, you wear your Mary janes shores in dark red.

You put your hair up and put on a brown leather jacket from Isla.

There’s a knock on the door as you try to save your make up a bit.

You take one last look in the mirror and decide that your fine with how you look. With your bag around your shoulder you open the door and meet Ellie’s eyes immediately.

You smile excited and do a little spin.

“is this okay?” You ask her

“Pretty. You look very pretty”

You take a Look at Ellie’s outfit.

Baggy jeans with a white t shirt and her blue jeans jacket and converse. You could see her black sports bra though her white tee and looked away quickly, feeling your face heat up and your mind swift away to other places.

“You do too, even your hair is open for once. Looks very good” you say and take a step forward, so you could let your fingers go through her hair. She puts her hands on your arms and closed her eyes for a bit. You fixed a few hair strings and looked at her. You often saw her this close up but you’ll always thank the universe for another chance of seeing her like this. The freckles over her cheeks and her nose, hell even her forehead.

She is so beautiful and so sweet, sure she tries to hide it most of the time but in these moments you’re both just two girls holding each others most vulnerable versions.

A moment later you find yourself hugging her tight.

Your arms are around her neck and you take a deep breath in. She hugs you back, her arms around your waist.

“I love you a lot and I hope that doesn’t change ever.”

You whisper in her ear

“I love you too…”

You eventually let go of her and try to show her that you’re still happy and excited for tonight, even though you really just want to hug and kiss her the whole night and not watch her do this with some other girl.

“Let’s go I’m sure the others are already there”

“Frat boys are some weird people but fuck their party’s are good”

Ellie’s voice makes you look right as you guys get out her car and fuck she’s right. There are people everywhere. Outside the frat house, inside and you’re sure some people are gonna end up on the roof at some point too.

“I’m gonna drink so fucking much before I need to go back home” you say, real excitement in your veins this time.

Ellie giggles and the both of you try to get through the drunk people on the front porch.

It’s louder inside the house, where a tone of lights shine around in the room, everyone is dancing and you could smell alcohol in the air.

Your eyes scan everything around you, but then you hear Ellie curse.

“What wrong?” You get a bit closer to her again.

She looks a bit pissed but you couldn’t find anything else in her expression.

“Iris is gonna be here in an hour”

“Thats a bit late” is all that comes to your mind.

“No shit, she thought we would meet up at that time but still it’s just….” She looks at your biting her under lip

You take a step back and look at her really mad now.

“What is it that bad to spent some time with me here Ellie? We don’t have too you know you wanted to pick me up, you wanted to go tonight what the fuck?” You hear your own voice getting louder with every word.

You were trying. Trying to be supportive and not jealous. Trying not to think about her, about all the things you dream about. But this just feels like some fucked up joke.

“No! Fuck- you know that not what I mean…”

Ellie’s hands reach out for you but you step back again.

“Don’t fucking Touch me.”

And for once in a while Ellie was the one, who felt the sharp pain of rejection. Her hands slowly drop and her eyes never looked so green. Her eyes look around the room for a second, but after she realises that you’re not gonna change your mind she puts her hands inside her jacket and walked more inside the house.

You don’t feel the tears this time. They just appear in your eyes as you watch Ellie walk away.

You Turn left and walk up the stairs, trying to not let anybody see you cry.

You Wander around for a bit feeling like a ghost, not even sure how to think a single thought right.

After a while you find yourself in, you think the bedroom, of one the frat boys. A group of people sit on the floor, talking and smoking a joint.

Even tho you don’t really like smoking, you thought about it for a second and it didn’t sound so bad Anymore.

You stood there awkwardly, staring at them not sure what to do, but then you heard a voice behind you.

“You want one?” A tall girl with long blond hair asks.

“Excuse me?” You feel your pulse go up in embarrassed.

“A joint? I have one if you wanna smoke a bit?”

You look at her with your mouth a bit open.

Then you gave the group a last look, their laughing looking like they don’t care about a thing in the world.

“Yes… yeah sure why not”

The girl smiles and you follow her to another room, a bathroom which was surprisingly quiet. As soon as she closes the door, the noises sounds muffled.

You Open a window and lean on to the wall.

“You a student too? Or a friend of a friend?” You ask her, hating the awkward silences.

The girls steps beside you and pulls out a joint and a lighter.

“Student sadly, I would be fine with being the cousin of one of the football players” she chuckles slightly and light up the joint pretty smooth.

“So Whats Your name?” She asks you and hands you the joint.

You Take a Hit trying not to cough, but of course you fail.

You mumble your name, as you try to take a normal breath again.

“First time?” A smirk on her a face, but at least she’s not laughing.

“No but I don’t smoke often”

“Hm”

“Sorry what’s your name?”

She takes another hit and it looks way to easy when she does it which bring you wanting to do it better the next time and even better the next one.

“Abby”

“Nickname?”

“Yeah for Abigail”

“Hm cute name” you mention and take your … maybe 4th hit? You should stop counting now.

“Thank you… so what do you study?

“Psychology” I murmur

Her eye brown go up in surprise and you giggle a bit at the face she makes.

“Clinical?” She asks and it surprises gib that she knows about the difference.

“No, general”

“Oh you’re a smart girl then huh?”

You laugh loud and laughing and since you’re in a bathroom the laugh comes back way louder.

“Not really most of the time I miss the classes that I I really wanna watch” you say and your mind goes wandering off to ellie again but you try to focus on Abby in front of you.

“What do you study? Tell me what are you here for Abigail?” You say to her and she makes a face again.

“God only my dad calls me Abigail it’s kinda funny coming from an almost stranger”

And that’s so sweet that you can’t help but smile at her but then your eyes meet…. And god hers are so red that you pray silently that yours do not have the same colour.

“Pre-med”

“And you call me smart girl Abby” you say with big eyes.

“You might become a fucking doctor”

She giggled embarrassed and you could tell that the weed was working.

“I Hope so” she says looking a bit sad even and your first thought was that she might think she couldn’t do it.

You put your arm on her shoulder and your mouth falls open.

Fuck this woman has some muscles.

You squeeze her arm for a second and then realise that she’s staring at you with a confused grin.

“Sorry i Know we Don’t know each other, but I can just like you know feel that you’re intelligent and interesting and hard working and - I mean bro look at your arms I’m not even sure if that’s possible” you say laughing again.

Your laugh doesn’t stop for a few seconds, but as soon as it dies you worried that you might have over stepped the line.

You Look at her Face and she just smiles really nice and not mad or hurt just pure sweetness.

She’s really nice and your sure you guys could be friends and now you’re kinda scared that you gave off the wrong idea.

“What the fuck?”

Your heads turn to the door where a very disturbed ellie is standing.

“Ellie hey… no wait I’m mad at you”

“You’re mad at me? I’ve been looking in the whole damn house and I find you smoking weed from a stranger the fuck do you mean?”

You’ve seen Ellie being angry a lot. She was mad, because of a comic con where she didn’t get to but a signed version of her fav comic. Or when she cursed out some old dude who was driving too slow.

But never this mad.

“We’re going”

Your mind is still spinning then suddenly Ellie grabs your arm and wanting to pull you out the door but Abby steps between you both.

“Sorry but you can’t just do that”

“You don’t know shit”

Abby was definitely taller and stronger than Ellie, but Ellie’s temper was probably even bigger.

“I know she doesn’t want to go with you”

Abby snaps and Ellie’s grip gets stronger around your waist and she goes past Abby through the door.

You give Abby an apologetic look, Ellie only slows down when you are at her car.

“Get in” she hisses

You get in and you swore to yourself that this whole situation will end tonight.

“Ellie-“

“Don’t just please don’t talk right now please”

She sounded exhausted. Hurt as well like she hasn’t slept in days. Her head rests on the steering wheel for a few seconds, her back goes up and down from her strong breathing and you just shut up with tears in your eyes.

The ride was quiet, not even the radio was on. You could only hear the noise of the car driving, it’s humming which calmed you and Ellie down a bit. You still cried in silence the whole time.

You got out of the car without a word and walked up the stairs to your room, Ellie close behind you.

You Open the door with your keys and you both sit down on your bed. This might be the longest time the both of you haven’t talked while being together and it feels so incredible wrong.

“Why did you step back from me in the beginning. Why didn’t you let me touch you?”

Her voice broke at the end and you looked up to see tears running down her cheeks as well.

“Because … I felt like you didn’t want me there with you. Like you would swap me with her if you had the chance. That hurt me and I know I don’t have the right-“

“I would always choose you”

This time she didn’t sound sad, her voice sounds and feels delicate. Something tickled in your heart, like a string only she pulled on.

“I would choose you in every universe, in every scenario just tell me what you want. Tell me what you want and I’ll be it for you”

Ellie has this affect on your heart, your soul.

She could hurt you so much more and you’ll still choose her over and over again as well.

You’ll choose each other.

You Look at her lips and back to her eyes.

“I want you to kiss me-“

She didn’t waste a second, she put her hand on the back of your head and pushed you to her, the first time ellie kissed you, you tasted like weed and alcohol. And Ellie didn’t care.

If you taste like that she’ll taste like it too.

And you would still kiss each other over and over again.

Your hands found her hair again, like a few hours ago but this time you weren’t careful, you touched her the way you wanted.

Her hands found your hip and she pulled you on her lap.

“Wait - wait”

She stopped immediately.

“What about Iris?” You feel like crying again, if you’re just a replacement because it didn’t work out with her then you might kill her.

Ellie gaze is focused on her hand, that’s still on your hip.

“I couldn’t do it”

“Couldn’t do what?”

Ellie closed her eyes, frustration showing on her whole face

“I couldn’t do this to you- Jesus to her I just couldn’t. I kept on wishing it was you instead of her. The whole time and I mean for weeks. But I can’t lose you and I sure as hell can’t forget you”

Your breath feels lost and I feel dizzy.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You ask her and out both of your hand on her cheeks, so that she looks up at you.

“Why didn’t you? Because I was scared. Scared of losing you or us or both”

Her eyes got a bit watery again, you’ve known her for so long and you couldn’t even read her when she was hurting the most.

“Give me a second”

You got up and grabbed your phone out of your bag.

Audrey, sleep in Dina’s dorm tonight, in Ellie’s bed

And don’t worry about Ellie

Always warm your roommate about hook ups, or whatever this is. God you Hoped this wasn’t a one time thing.

“You’re okay with sleeping here?”

Ellie’s eyes went wide and her face got red.

“Yeah I mean yes for sure why shouldn’t I-?”

You sit down on her lap and kiss her again, harder this time.

“Is it okay if we fuck? Or too fast?” You ask her looking right into her eyes, so she would understand how serious you mean it.

“N-no im fine Are you fine?”

You grinned, she was so cute when she was nervous.

“I’m fine Ellie. Say stop and I’ll stop okay? Promise me you’ll do that?” You kiss down her neck as you speak and even there her skin was burning.

“Yes I can do that”

You get up to her face again and kiss her soft.

“Can you open my dress for me?”

She nods and her hands disappear behind your back.

The fabric on your skin never felt heavier and you just needed to get it off your skin. You needed Ellie to see you, to touch you.

Thank god you’re wearing pretty underwear, otherwise the anxiety would’ve ruined your confidence.

The cold gave you a little shiver, Ellie hand found your waist again and you literally melted under her touch.

A few seconds ago you were nervous how she might look at you. Ellie has experience, you too sure but she’s enough for you just by being here with you in this moment. You don’t know how she feels about you.

The warm light of your lamp shines on her face and her freckles never looked more beautiful.

Her eyes wander over your whole body.

Your lace bra, your legs, stomach and you’ve never felt this intimate with a person. It’s because this time it’s with her. And you feel golden, god she feels golden, the whole room does.

Ellie’s eyes stop at your bra and she grins.

“You’re so pretty” she whispers, as she kisses the exposed skin.

You sigh smiling, your hands finds her t shirt.

“Is this okay?” You ask for her permission.

She nods still kissing, touching your boobs over your bra and the two of you giggle as you take off her shirt and now both of you are almost naked In front of each other.

“I really wanna do this with some music on” she mumbles under her breath. A few moments later frank oceans voice is filling the room from Ellie’s phone. The bad quality made you chuckle.

Your hands touch her black sports bra, caressing over her small breasts and Ellie shivered for a moment.

It’s all you ever wanted.

All her rough and soft parts combine so good and make you feel so much, that you only want to scream.

You’ve seen Ellie in a sport bra before, at the beach or when she came from the gym, but you’ve always had this weird love for her toned forearms.

Ellie watched you with drunk looking eyes. Now she looks like the one who smoked the joint.

“I’ve imagined this before, so often it’s kinda embarrassing” she confesses.

You shake your head. “Im sure that I could keep up with it”

Your fingers started to make little circles around her nipples while you watched her face carefully, so that you wouldn’t kiss one expression.

Her eyes shut down and her brows furrow in pleasure.

For a while both of you almost fought about the control.

“Please let me take this off” she begs her hands already on your back, as she fumbles trying to get your bra open which was hard because you were moving a lot. From her neck, to her ear, to the other side.

But as soon as your breast were completely exposed, Ellie’s eyes darken and a satisfied grin appears on her mouth.

Feeling her eyes on you made your skin burn and you bury your face in your hands again growling frustrated.

“Please stop Ellie” you begged but you couldn’t help letting a little laugh coming out of your mouth.

You felt her hands on your boobs grabbing them softly, with a chuckle she starts massaging them.

“Stop What?” She mumbles, playing dumb obviously.

Her hands leave and suddenly it feels too cold without them. Ellie gently grabs your wrist and moves your hands away, so she could look at your face.

“Look at me, I won’t do anything unless you watch” she whispers.

It terrifies you for some reason. This moment and the consequences it will have.

Her head moves a bit lower to your boobs and she looks you in the eyes. You feel your emotions everywhere in your body, some are different from others.

“Here”

Ellie takes your hand and guides it too her hair.

“Hold my hair back for me” her voice sounds almost like she was in a trance, a trance she surly enjoyed.

The strings of her hair felt soft around your fingers and you decided to use both of your hands, so that no hair got into her face.

You heard a soft chuckle before she starts kissing your breast softly at first, while looking at you.

Her lips slightly brush against your already swollen nipple and you let out a loud high pitched moan.

You could feel her grin on your skin and all the embarrassment was gone.

She gently caresses over your nipple with her tongue and her fingers played with the other one.

“I really love these fuck” she whispers

The feeling in your core got worse and worse and the needy feeling was almost getting too painful.

“Ellie please I-“ her tongue flickers over you pink swollen nipple and you moan again.

“Hm?” She says completely focused on her work.

“Can you please eat me out or finger me I don’t care just please-“

the look on you face showed her how much you need it, because she immediately stopped and dropped you off her lap onto the bed.

“Yeah I can do that, didn’t know you could ever beg for something” she lets out a little giggle in her typical husky voice, while she kisses you down your body.

Your back found the wall and you changed your position, so that you could still watch her.

Her hands removed your underwear and the cold on your pussy makes you shiver.

She puts your legs over her shoulder and lays down on her stomach.

Her head lift up and she looks at you with a grin, an amused grin.

“What?” Your voice shakes a bit.

“Nothing just happy to be here”

You let out a loud laugh which died a second later, because Ellie starts to lick your clit in evil circles.

“You’re so fucking wet” she murmurs with closed eyes just saw tasting you.

Your voice got louder and louder by every move her tongue made and you could feel her enjoying every second.

“Oh my god faster Ellie please-“

Her tongue licks you faster, she couldn’t stop humming to your moans like she was feeling it too.

“You taste so good, just like I imagined”

Because of her words you got Even more turned on and you moan again, while Ellies holding you legs steady around her face.

“I’m gonna add a finger okay?”

You nodded energetic and gave off a little noise.

“Please Ellie just fuck me” you’re voice sounded like somebody else’s, way too high and way too filthy.

Ellie just chuckled and put her a finger inside your Pussy. She could feel how you’re legs tense on her cheek, as she continued too lick you’re clit.

The cruel combination made you go crazy, feeling dizzy in your head and your hips began too move on their own.

Ellie saw that as a sign too go faster as well, and her finger pushed in an out of your cunt.

“Ellie- please don’t stop”

She grins again, never imagined she would actually have you going crazy like this because of her.

“You’re getting tighter you close baby?” She teased shameless.

“Fuck- so close god-“

She adds another finger and the sudden stret made you moan and tremble at the same time.

“Come for me baby, please, make a mess on my fingers” Ellie sounded close herself and hearing her voice this desperate made you come so hard that you only saw stars for a moment.

“Oh my god- Ellie I’m gonna-!”

You came hard and ellie took everything you gave her, slurping and licking the fuck out of you.

You couldn’t stop panting for a moment, coming down from your high.

When you open your eyes Ellie was still cleaning up the mess you made, feeling her tongue on your skin.

“Okay Ellie- enough or I’m gonna cum again”

You said chuckling.

“Not my fault you taste so good holy shit” she puts her finger in her mouth.

“Ew ellie”

“Shut up I just fucked you with my mouth, you’re not allowed too judge me right now” she slides up to you and kisses your lips deeply with her tongue in your mouth, so you could taste yourself.

You kiss her back, just as eager, but the anxious thoughts won’t leave you alone.

“Um-“ you break the the kiss and Ellie whimpers slightly.

“Ellie is this just-“

“I love you.” She interrupts you, saying the words fast and it didn’t feel real for a second.

“What”

“Ive loved you for a while now I just- I’m sorry for not telling you but I was scared, god I was scared”

Her words hurt you, because you’ve felt the same way. Being too scared to tell someone how you feel is a shitty feeling.

She looks at you, but broke the eye contact immediately.

You pull her into you, kissing her cheek, her nose, her forehead, her everything.

“I also love you… that for a while as well”

A.n: sorry this was so fucking long 😭

And please Interact with the link about helping Palestine it’s literally just one click per day!!!

Anyways I hope you liked it and if there’s anything that I’ve missed or smth pls tell me!!

[marionluth]

What if Peter learned about Harley's existence through a phone call Tony answered in front of him? Excerpt from my Irondad longfic that serves as an adorable stand-alone of Harley-Tony goodness!

Wordcount: 887

* Peter and Tony were discussing something, when Tony's phone rang and he asked Peter if he minded answering. Peter said it was fine. He didn't regret it. *

“After a whole week of dodging my calls, sending me texts with barely-readable Gen Z slang and abbreviations, I'm borderline worried—nevertheless, happy to finally hear your voice, terrorist,” Tony sent into the phone, causing Peter to look up at him with surprised and confused eyes.

“You know what? I’m just gonna say this, and you make what you want out of it… Black bears simply aren’t eating enough people.”

Closing his eyes and letting out a breath through his nose, Tony prayed for strength and sanity, while Peter couldn’t help but snicker at the words his super hearing easily caught. He watched his mentor waiting for his answer, curiosity peaked.

“What did you do, Harley?”

“I mean… I know Rosehill is a town and all, but, dude! Climate change! Shouldn’t they, like, come down from the mountains and look for food and stuff in towns? Desperately rummaging through trash, finding nothing but our civilization's gloriously gross junk food - that even a hungry black bear wouldn’t touch - and then randomly eating a passerby?”

Peter snorted, trying to keep his amused vocalizations at the random tirade quiet, causing Tony to shake his head in terrified resignation at the inevitability of these two eventually meeting each other.

“And when I say randomly, I may or may not mean my English teacher,” Harley continued.

“What have I told you about applying yourself, Harley?” Tony asked, his resigned tone gaining an edge.

“Something that directly contradicts what you've told me about wasting my potential on frivolous things that won't matter in my future.”

“You see, Harley... The English language we're all jabbering away in, especially in those fancy colleges you're drooling over, doesn't fall into the category of frivolous things that won't matter for your future,” Tony stated.

“It's freaking Shakespeare, mech’!” Harley's voice was a whine now. “The man was crazy! A donkey-headed guy getting it on with fairy queens… I mean, come on!”

Biting his lower lip in an effort to keep himself from laughing, Tony took a deep breath, avoiding eye contact entirely with Peter, who was chuckling and shamelessly listening in to the conversation.

"Harley, we've had this chat before. You can't just bail on everything you don't like. You can’t expect you'll just breeze through school without breaking a sweat. You think MIT or Columbia will roll out the red carpet for you if you flunk everything except math, chem, and science?"

“I already got the lecture from Ava, man. Give me a break, here.”

“I'll give you a break when you give me one, terrorist. But until then, park yourself and hit the books. It's not rocket science; we're talking about fairy tales and donkey-faced characters here. If you can crack quadratic equations without even bothering with homework, I'm pretty sure you can handle Shakespeare.”

“That's torture!”

“No, Hamlet is torture. And you know what else will be torture? Whatever your mom and I come up with if you don’t start putting in some serious effort! You got a week to start straightening things out, Harl, or Ava and I will straighten you out instead. Capiche?”

“But wouldn’t it be a lot more cost-effective if you called school -all Tony Stark and shit - and demanded that I be excused from Shakespeare altogether? Oh, I know! We can make it a religious thing… Like studying Shakespeare goes against my religious dogma! That’s dope! They won’t be able to fight that if it comes from you…”

"Alright, kid, first things first: lay off the Red Bull. Second, if you put half as much effort into hitting the books as you do trying to wriggle out of this, we wouldn't even be having this chat. There's no shortcut around it. Buckle down and get to work."

“So that’s a no to my against-my-religion master plan?”

“That’s a no!”

“I hate you more than Shakespeare hated sanity,” came the resigned answer from the other line.

“Study, donkey-head,” Tony emphasized with a roll of his eyes before hanging up.

“I knew you had a kid hidden somewhere,” Peter said with a smirk.

Letting out a snort, Tony shook his head. "Harley isn't my kid, Pete. We bumped into each other a few years ago, and we've stayed in touch since then."

“That sounded like more than just staying in touch,” Peter commented, eyeing the man. “That’s how you roast me, too."

"Smooth talk, as always, Pete," Tony smirked. "I do lend a hand with Harley, but it's a bit of a different ball game. He's down in Tennessee, so it's more of a long-distance gig. The universe is not done testing me, though, and you two will get to meet. He spends some of his school breaks and a couple of weeks in summer here.”

“So you just habitually collect kids to part-time parent?” Peter asked with a small smile and a raised eyebrow.

Tony gaped at Peter as the kid’s deadpan statement registered. “I… don't have a retort to that.

[abitohoney]

Bend and Break (Not Just the Rules)

Chapter 5 of 5 - Punishment that Fits the Crime

AO3 link

CH1 || CH2 || CH3 || CH4 || CH5

Sevika x female reader

Rating: Explicit, MDNI, NSFW

Tags: Sevika/Reader, Modern AU, College/University AU, Professor Sevika, Student Reader, Humor, Porn With Plot, Eventual Smut, Teacher-Student Relationship, a lot of this is probably super cliché and a bit silly, but I don’t give two shits cause it’s fucking hot and funny, Drinking, Masturbation, Smoking, Teasing, Size Difference, Enthusiastic Consent, Dom Sevika (Arcane: League of Legends), Sub Reader, Light BDSM, Impact Play, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink, (yes I like the emotional whiplash of both kinks), Vaginal Fingering, Strap-Ons, Orgasm Delay, Choking, Multiple Orgasms, Cunnilingus, Aftercare

Word Count: 12.8k (This sucker is chonky and filled to the brim with smut!)

Summary: When a hot professor in your field of study enters your radar, you’re quick to jump at the opportunity to get closer by taking her class. Temptations eventually lead the two of you to bend and break more than just the rules.

AN: New tags added, so please read those!

‘The only thing I’m going to bend and break is you.’

Never had you found a threat to be so incredibly thrilling. So provocative. What should have filled you with dread and fear had you squirming and rubbing your thighs together, trying to ease the ache that suddenly spread through there.

“Now, you have a choice here, sweetheart. You can either walk away right now, and we never speak of this again, or you can stay here and take what we both know you deserve,” she whispered into your ear, voice low and dangerous. “So what’s it gonna be?”

How could that even be a question, given how your body screamed for her attention– her touch? Still, in the back of your mind, you found the check for consent just as hot as whatever the hell she had in store for you.

“Stay,” you whimpered.

She chuckled against your ear, sending a wave of shivers through your body. “So, how should you be punished, hm?”

You said nothing. Merely stood there damn near dying of anticipation. You knew there was nothing you could say to get you out of this dilemma. A dilemma you very rightfully deserved to be in. Brought it on yourself. It was as if you wanted this to happen.

And deep down, you knew. You did want this to happen. Whatever this was.

SMACK!

You heard the sound of the ruler connecting with the flesh of your bottom before you felt it, but only by a fraction of a second. You yelped, body jolting forward against the desk as the pain seared across your asscheek.

“I asked you a question,” Professor Sevika growled from behind you. She was standing again, that lovely skin contact gone, but your attention was focused on the prickling sensation that overtook your skin.

“S-Sevik-”

SMACK!

“-AH!”

Another hit from that damned ruler– at least mercifully to your opposite asscheek that time, but it drew a startled cry from you all the same.

“It’s Professor,” she snarled.

“B-but you said–”

“I said what?”

“You said out-outside class I c-could call you–”

“And where are we?”

…

Oh.

“Class?” you mewled.

“Mhm. That’s right, sweetheart,” she purred, accenting that lovely pet name by lightly brushing her fingertips across your sore skin.

The moan that left your throat at the contact was deprived, wanton, and oh so very needy.

“How many times should we do this?" She taunted. "One for each month you spent tempting me? Each week? Each day?”

How were you even supposed to answer that?

SMACK!

Your resulting pained cry quickly dissolved into a soft moan as she soothed over your bottom again.

“Or maybe one for each dirty fantasy you had about me during my lectures?”

The moment you felt that lovely hand leave your skin, your entire body tensed, eyes squeezing shut tight in anticipation of another hit. When it didn’t immediately come, only deafening silence filling the room, you released your breath in a pathetic, choked whimper.

“Pro-Professor, please!” you begged.

“Please what?”

…

“Stop?”

Gods, please no.

“Answer me or I will stop.”

“No!” you cried out, far more frantic and loud than you had intended, but holy fucking hell were you enjoying this far too much. The punishment followed by her soothing touch. The pain mixed with pleasure. Her… attention. All of it for you. And only you.

“Please don’t stop,” you begged softly.

SMACK!

“Fuck!” you cried out. That time she nailed one of the spots she’d hit earlier. You pressed your mouth against a forearm, fighting desperately not to sob or moan as loudly as your body urged you to.

Your professor’s sinister chuckle rang in your ears and left a pool of warmth low in your belly. Your legs threatened to give way, and you were pretty sure if you hadn’t been putting so much of your weight on that desk, your knees would have buckled and you’d have gone crashing down.

“That’s what I thought," she sneered. "Such a dirty girl. Likes being punished." She trailed the pads of her fingers across the marks she'd left, her voice softening but still holding that taunting edge, "Don’t you?”

Though her words were degrading, they only made you yearn for her more. And you knew beneath those biting remarks, it was actually praise. Especially when she paired it with those gentle caresses across your sore ass. It left you in a daze- that contrasting pain and pleasure- degradation and praise.

But she took her hand away again, far too soon, and you unwittingly reached back with both hands in an attempt to cover your exposed ass.

“Oh no you don’t,” she chastised. “Move those hands.”

Her words went in one ear and right out the other. You were too far gone already. Too hopelessly aroused by her onslaught. It was all too much, your body simply acted on instinct.

Through your haze, you heard a familiar jingle, followed by something sliding along fabric.

And then…

SNAP!

You jumped at the sudden, loud sound, but it wasn’t the ruler smacking your ass this time. It wasn’t anything touching you. It was…

Her belt?

She’d definitely taken her belt off. Snapped the two halves together.

Next thing you knew, your hands were snatched up by her much larger ones. The soft leather of her belt wrapped around each of your wrists several times before being secured through the buckle.

She bent over you and brought her mouth to your ear again. “Comfortable?”

There was bite in that question, but it dawned on you that there was more to it than just teasing. It was another consent check.

Fuck, that’s so hot.

Untrusting of your own voice, you simply nodded.

“Good,” she husked, accenting that single word with a gentle glide of her hand across your ass. The moment she stood back up though, you knew what was coming next.

SMACK!

No longer able to bury your face in your arm, your resulting yelp was embarrassingly loud and pathetic, more like a sob. And when her hand only ghosted over your burning flesh, you instinctively tried to push back into her. Unsurprisingly, she pulled her hand away immediately.

SMACK!

“Fuck me!” you cried out. The pain of overlapping hits to your tender cheeks was indescribably somehow both horrible and delightful.

Several choked sobs escaped your slack mouth while your professor chuckled behind you, soothing you again with that glorious hand of hers. It wasn’t until your head collapsed against the desk that you realized tears and sweat were streaming down your face, your cheek slipping against where it rested on the hard wood. And with your chest now smashed against the desktop, you could feel just how labored your breathing was.

“Patience, sweetheart. We’ll get to that soon.”

Get to what soon?

Oh.

Oh god yes.

You squirmed in place, thighs rubbing together with no resistance. Shit, you were so fucking wet, and just from her punishing you. But the thought of what she just implied was soon to come left you teeming with desire.

She leaned over you again, and this time, with your head turned to the side, you could see her face from your periphery. She didn’t immediately speak into your ear. Instead, she ran that wonderful nose of hers along the side of your neck, taking in a long, deep breath.

“You know,” she purred, “I think you’re enjoying this a bit too much.”

‘W-What do you mean?” you stammered.

She ran her nose in the opposite direction along your neck, timing it with the glide of her hand across your ass, causing you to shiver and groan. Then she pressed her lips against the pulse point along your neck. Not quite a kiss, but intimate enough to make your legs ache and your core throb with need.

“Your sweet little heart– I can feel it, hear it. You’re so terribly excited, aren’t you?”

…

“And I can smell your arousal.”

The tears and sweat did nothing to cool the burning sensation that filled your cheeks. There was no denying how outlandishly turned on you were by all this. In all your fantasies about her, never had you imagined anything like this. This was so much better.

“You know what I think? For as much as you seem to be enjoying this, I think we need to find something much more severe for a count. What about one for each second you spent touching yourself in class?”

“Y-You knew?” you gasped.

“Oh I knew everything you were doing. As I said before, just couldn’t act on it with a student.”

“But then- why now?” you whimpered.

“Grades are in. You’re graduating, no longer a student.”

Oh.

OH!

She hummed in amusement against your ear, apparently catching how your eyes had gone wide in realization.

“Tell me, what did you fantasize about that day?”

Just when you thought your cheeks couldn’t possibly burn any hotter, they did the moment you thought about admitting- out loud- what you had imagined about her that day. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on coming up with the shortest, least incriminating, version of your fantasy.

But how the fuck do-

SMACK!

“FUUUuuck,” your screamed curse deteriorated into a long moan when her hand quickly replaced that god-forsaken ruler.

“I know you’re smarter than this, sweetheart,” she cooed

Apparently you weren’t, considering how many times you’d delayed in answering only to receive another deliciously brutal smack to your bottom.

“I- I imagined- kneeling before you,” you stammered, keeping your eyes closed to hide your shame as you continued to confess, “Be-Between your legs, at-at your desk…” You trailed off, foolishly hoping that would be enough to placate her.

“Hmm. And what were you doing there?” she hummed, her hand still caressing your tender skin, tracing along the marks she’d left there as if admiring her handiwork.

“I- I was touching your thighs… getting ready to- to take your- your pants off.”

You could feel her fingers travel closer and closer to the apex of your thighs with each swipe of her hand, making it more and more difficult for you to concentrate.

“Mmm. And then?” she asked, her voice so undeniably deep and sultry.

“I- I was going to- to-”

“Hm?”

Fuck! Just say it!

“-to give you head!” you blurted out the rest, flinching as if you would feel her disgust hit you like the fucking ruler. But there was no disgust. None whatsoever.

“I should have known. You are the pleasing type.”

Before you could respond to the wonderful praise hidden in that statement, you felt her run two fingers between your slit through your panties.

Your legs trembled at that tiny bit of stimulation, a barely contained moan caught in your throat.

"Look at you. Already so wet and I haven't even touched that pretty little cunt yet."

“Professor,” you whined and attempted to push back against her hand.

“I think you’re enjoying being disciplined this way far too much. Maybe you’re more deserving of a punishment that fits the crime. Maybe I’ll just tease you,” she accented that word with a literal tease- another drag of her fingertip through your slit. “Just dangle what you desire right in front of that pretty face of yours, but make you wait. Make you crave it so bad it’s all you can think about.”

Good god, was she implying that’s what you’d done to her? Had she wanted you so badly all this time and just not acted on it to save both of you from possible firing and expulsion?

“Does that sound like a fitting punishment?”

You’d honestly take anything she’d deal out. Anything. But you still weren’t ready to admit to that.

“I- I don’t kno-” your answer was cut short by one final SMACK of the ruler.

“Fuck!” you cried out. That hit had been particularly harsh, nailing your already raw skin. But you were crazy. Simply crazy. Because you enjoyed that pain, at least when it was dealt by her.

You didn’t immediately feel her soothing touch, instead you felt her slip her fingers beneath the waistband of your soaked panties and carefully pull them down to just below your knees.

“Hmm,” she hummed appreciatively from behind you, “very nice.” 

You clenched around nothing at that praise, and she obviously took notice.

“So needy,” she teased, chuckling lowly when you attempted to push back against her hand as she ghosted it over your ass.

“Sev- Professor, please,” you whined. You bit your lip, too fearful to ask for what you really wanted.

“Please what?”

Of course she’d make you say it.

“Please touch me.”

Your professor’s smug face appeared in your periphery. “Where?”

…

“Here?” she asked, tauntingly brushing the tips of her fingers across the back of your neck and causing you to shiver.

…

“Or here?” she slipped her hand beneath the back of your shirt and lightly drug her nails down your spine.

You shuddered and moaned involuntarily, eyes fluttering shut at the delightful sensations coursing through your body.

“What about here?” With her hand never leaving your skin, she trailed her fingers over your ass, all the way down to your thighs, her middle finger dangerously close to where you really wanted her.

You tried again, without success, to push back against her hand, only for her to pull it away with a scolding, “Tsk.”

“You’ve got to use your words. I can’t spend all night guessing.”

She fucking knew where you wanted to be touched. She was just toying with you. And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like how sadistic she was. So you took in a shaky breath, screwed your eyes shut, and forced out a defeated, “Between my legs.”

You knew that wouldn’t satiate her desire to have you admit the filthy specifics, so after taking another breath, you whispered, “My cunt.”

Still hovering over your face, she chuckled darkly. “Atta girl."

Gawd that was almost… demeaning, but holy fuck did it make you feel good.

She stood back up, placing a hand back on your bottom, only this time, as she dipped her spread fingers lower, she let her middle finger tease just along the outside of your wet folds. She reversed the path, moving her finger aside just before she could reach your entrance.

Goddamn tease!

And she just repeated the motion, leaving you sucking in a breath each time that tantalizing digit came close to your dripping center, only to release it from your lungs in a shaky groan. She kept at it until you were left squirming and pulling against the belt restraining your hands. Even with your eyes closed, you knew she was back there wearing the biggest, sexiest, most evil grin.

“Professor please!” you begged when she made another pass, this time the pad of her finger ghosting over your slit.

So close.

Of course she said nothing, but you knew what she was thinking. ‘Please what?’

“Inside, please,” you pleaded.

“All you had to do was ask,” she taunted.

With your eyes still squeezed shut, all you could focus on was the wonderful pressure of her thick finger finally slipping inside- slowly. So fucking slowly.

Your toes curled and you bit your bottom lip, struggling to remain quiet. Something primal started building in your throat, threatening to spill past your pursed lips at any moment. She was only the first knuckle deep and your head was already spinning.

“Mmm,” She hummed from behind you. “So warm-” Her second knuckle slid inside, then her voice sounded closer. “-wet-” she purred. Halfway to the final knuckle and her sultry voice even closer still. “-and tight,” she husked against your ear as she buried that finger clear to the last knuckle.

The breath you’d been holding to keep quiet fell past your parted lips in a wanton moan, your body trembling with the pleasure that coursed through your lower half.

God, if just a single finger feels that heavenly, how would two feel?

“Feel good?” she purred.

“Yes. Very…” you groaned when she slowly pulled her finger out, curling and dragging it along your walls. Warm air fanned across your cheek as she laughed tauntingly. You slowly opened your eyes to find her leaning against the top of the desk on her forearm, wearing the most shit-eating grin while she watched your expressions.

“Think you can take two?”

Not sure.

“Or should we work you up a bit first?”

Fuck no.

“I can take another,” you huffed out, struggling to remain still, the tip of her finger threatening to slip out completely.

She chuckled again, and you instinctively clenched at that undeniably sultry sound just as she slipped a single digit back inside.

“Forget your manners?” she taunted, stilling inside you.

“Pl-eeease,” you moaned when she dragged back out again. She’d obviously timed that with you trying to talk just to fuck with you. That should have made you angry, but good god did you enjoy the torture. And any bit of torture you felt disappeared the instant you felt her start to push two digits back in.

Oh fuck was it a stretch. You whimpered, spreading your legs wider to try to accommodate. Two of her fingers were easily as thick as three of your own. Had to be. And when she forced you to open wider, going deeper and deeper, you fought to bite back another moan. Fists clenched from where they were still bound behind your back, you didn't even notice the pain of your nails piercing your own skin when her fingers finally bottomed out.

No amount of fantasizing could ever have prepared you for how good you felt at that moment. So full. Only the slightest tinge of pain, but it was completely overtaken by the pleasant ache that spread from your core through the entirety of your body.

But you needed more.

You needed motion. Friction.

“Pro-fessor, please,” you begged, “Fuck me.”

Your body felt like it was on fire, and you weren’t sure if it was the embarrassment of how desperate and pathetic you were, the intense pleasure and anticipation, or a combination thereof. Whatever it was, you could feel a thin sheen of sweat forming across your forehead and chest.

Another low taunting chuckle timed with the drag of retreating digits and you thought you might just lose it right there.

Your lips parted, another plea ready on your tongue, only to come out in a sharp gasp the moment she rammed both fingers back inside your dripping hole.

“Fuck!” you cried out, but she left you no time to recover, immediately starting to finger fuck you at a slow, steady pace.

She was laughing from somewhere behind you again, but it barely registered in your lust-laden mind as she scissored, curled, and pumped her fingers in and out.

Gradually, she started to increase the speed, plunging deeper with each thrust and bringing you closer and closer to that blissful climax.

“You think that boy could fuck you like this?” she taunted, her lips dragging along your sweat-slick neck as she bent over you. She used her own body weight to push her fingers deeper, your insides burning and growing tighter with each thrust, each derisive little comment. “You think he could make you feel this good? Know exactly how to please you? All the right spots?” She accented the last word with a swipe of her thumb across your throbbing clit.

White light flashed behind your closed eyes, a feeling so electric firing straight from your core to your toes.

You were so close. So fucking close. Just a few more swipes. Just a few more- and you’d be there.

“P-Please!” you sputtered.

Another tease across the swollen bundle of nerves.

“I’m so close!” you cried out. You opened your eyes, hoping you could use them to plead with her, words no longer an option. Unfortunately, you could only see a blur of her face through your own tears.

And then her fingers were gone.

“Oh god no! No, please! Please Professor!” you sobbed frantically. You pushed up off the desk as much as you could without the use of your arms, squirming against your restraints and struggling to get strength in your legs to push back against her.

“Calm down!” Professor Sevika snarled.

Your eyes went wide, but you were too overwhelmed with desperation. You opened your mouth to protest, beg her more, only to have it filled with two thick, wet fingers. She spread them wide and shoved them clear back to your throat.

“Do you want to get caught right before your graduation ceremony?” she seethed against your ear.

You shook your head frantically, blinking away tear after tear, sending them spilling down your burning cheeks. The taste of your own slick filled your mouth as your tongue rolled along her fingers.

“You’ll get your release. You just have to learn to be patient,” she hissed. “ Like I did.”

Oh boy. Should have seen that coming.

“Got it?”

You took a deep, calming breath and murmured in affirmation around her fingers.

“You gonna be quiet now?”

You nodded, blinking away the last of your tears.

“Still think you deserve this?”

Another consent check, another nod.

She slipped her drool-coated fingers from your mouth and you watched as a string of saliva and slick clung between you two, core throbbing at the sight of it.

After wiping her fingers off across your ass, she gently helped you lie back down against the desk. With her mouth pressed to your ear, she whispered, “Now you be a good girl, and I’m going to get something else I think you’ll really like.”

Your eyes opened wide at the possible implications of that statement. You tried, without much success, to lift your head off the desk to see what she was doing behind you. Unfortunately, she was just outside your field of vision, but you could hear her rummaging through her bag on the floor. Then more shuffling, jingling of… buckles? More than one for sure.

“Not sure this is necessary given how dripping wet you are,” she taunted from behind you. Then you heard something squirt.

Lube?

Oh god.

She was lubing up a strap-on.

You shifted in place, rubbing your soaked thighs together, the thought of what was coming next leaving you yearning for what would assuredly be another delightfully full feeling.

“Oh!” you gasped when something unexpectedly wet and cold prodded at your warm entrance.

Sevika chuckled and teasingly dragged the tip through your slit. “So sorry sweetheart. Might be a little cold.”

No shit.

You didn’t respond, instead focused on your breathing, which was still heavy from getting so worked up. With your chest pressed against the unforgiving wood of the desktop, you could feel your heart throbbing faster each time she ran the head of the dildo through your folds.

“You’re gonna have to get a little higher for me.”

Easier said than done.

Your legs felt like they’d turned to jello, but you still forced them closer together and pushed up on your tiptoes, muscles screaming at you to cease the demand.

“That’s my good girl.” She gave your ass a light pat with her free hand and pressed the tip of the toy just far enough inside to keep it from slipping out.

It was not a small one by any means. You could already feel the girth by the paltry amount sitting just inside your entrance. A soft moan fell past your lips and you rested your slick forehead against the top of the desk.

“Think you can take it all?” She asked, both her hands massaging the round, plump flesh of your ass.

You honestly weren’t sure. Her two fingers were the perfect fit, and this felt even larger. However, you were not about to tell her no to anything she offered you. Not in this lifetime or any other.

“Yes,” you forced out with a shallow breath.

“Hmm. I think so too,” she husked. She pressed both her thumbs against the underside of each asscheek and forced you to spread open more, revealing you in all your wet, lascivious glory.

Then, ever so slowly, you felt the toy start to sink deeper. It dragged almost tormentingly slowly along your walls. You weren’t sure if she was doing it to toy with you, or to give you time to adjust, but whatever her reason was, it was leaving you struggling to think.

“Mmm. Look at that,” she hummed, delighting in the vision of the silicone cock sinking deeper between your wet folds. “Fuck, that’s real good.”

Instinctively, your body jerked back towards her, forcing the toy considerably further in. You gasped at the sudden intense stimulation, muscles straining and fingers curling into fists.

Professor Sevika moved her hands to your hips, her nails digging into the soft flesh as she held you in place.

“Uh-uh,” she chided mockingly. “I’m in control here.”

“I-I’m sorry,” you stammered, “It-It just feels so good and you’re just so… I’m so…” You trailed off, mind blanking the moment she pushed in the last remaining length of the toy, her hips pressing fully against your ass.

“What was that? I didn’t quite catch that.”

Through the haze in your head, you heard the taunting lilt in her words, but it only made the knot forming low in your gut pull tighter. And with the height difference, the strap pressed in at an odd angle, to the point you could swear there was a bulge low in your stomach where it rested against the desk.

A sudden sharp pain in your hips knocked you temporarily back to your senses.

“I asked you a question,” she snarled, her nails sinking into your flesh.

“I- I’ve never felt so good. Never needed something- someone- so bad,” you exhaled as she started to pull back out.

“We’re only getting started, sweetheart,” she taunted. Then, just as the tip threatened to fall from your needy cunt, she snapped her hips, burying the faux cock clear to the hilt.

All the air rushed from your lungs in a sharp cry of pleasure, surely loud enough that anyone in the vicinity could hear. Hopefully nobody was.

“You’d better stay quiet. Or do I need to busy that mouth of yours again?” She seethed, leaning over your body to speak into your ear.

What was with all the difficult questions? There was no way you could keep quiet while she fucked you. It was too intense- too fucking good. And good god, she was making that angle so much worse- or better- with the way she was positioned. You stretched on your tiptoes, trying to relieve some of that overwhelming pressure.

“I’ll be good,” you mewled, “I’ll be quiet.”

“That’s my good girl,” she purred as she ran the tip of her nose along your ear. “Keep this up, and maybe I’ll let you cum sooner than later.”

You clenched around the toy, and you knew she could feel it by the evil little laugh that rumbled through her chest to where it pressed against your back.

She stood back up, and you whimpered at that loss of contact, only to be distracted by the strap withdrawing again.

Just as she’d done with her fingers, she started fucking you with a steady rhythm. Except this time, she only pulled out slowly, reentering at a much faster speed. Her hips slammed against your bottom each time, leaving you biting back moan after moan.

“How’s it feel having that wet little hole fucked by your professor?” she taunted. “Did you fantasize about this too?”

You’d literally dreamt of this moment a thousand times, a thousand different ways. Though none had ever compared to how it truly felt.

“Yes- many times- but I- never imagined- it would- feel this- good,” you moaned between each push of the toy along your walls.

“Such a filthy girl,” she jeered.

Maybe she was right, but if this was how filthy girls were punished, you weren’t about to change a damn thing.

She started fucking into you harder, faster, deeper– using your hips as leverage to pull you against her while she continued to thrust her hips.

Her grip was anything but gentle, sure to leave bruises you were more than willing to have. The force of her thrusts shook the desk hard enough to rattle the pen and pencil holder that sat precariously at the edge. Not that either of you gave a damn. You were too caught up in absolutely falling apart at her doing, and she was too caught up in watching it.

It wasn’t long before you once again found yourself at the precipice of bliss. The knot low in your belly pulled so taut it threatened to break at any moment.

“You’re close, aren’t you?”

The question echoed through your clouded head in her husky voice, but you weren’t sure you could form the words necessary to answer that. So instead you nodded your head, cheek sliding across the desk where it still rested in a pool of your own sweat and tears.

Between the maddening drag of the faux cock, you could feel one of her hands slide from your hip down around one of your thighs. Her middle finger ran along a trail of slick gathered along the inside before climbing up to circle your throbbing clit.

You gasped, a string of incoherent babbling following immediately after.

Just a few more of that motion and you’d be falling.

“Don’t think I’m letting you have it that easy,” Professor Sevika taunted. She was bent over you, those full lips of hers teasing along your ear yet again. “You’re gonna have to earn this.”

Fuck, god no.

You whimpered and pulled against the belt restraining your wrists.

If you could just-

“You brought this on yourself, sweetheart.”

True or not, you weren’t in your right mind to accept that, but neither were you capable of disputing it.

“How about a test? If you can answer these questions, I’ll let you cum. If you can’t, well, I’m just going to keep you right on that edge.”

She’s got to be fucking kidding.

“First question; What is the viscosity of an inviscid fluid?”

What?!

You weren’t sure if it was the haze that had taken over your head, or if that was a trick question.

“Zero?” you moaned as she timed another thrust of her hips with your answer. “𝝂 equals zero.”

“Good girl,” she purred into your ear, swiping the pad of her finger across your clit again.

You keened, body trembling.

At least the questions were easy as hell.

“Now, what type of fluid continues to flow regardless of forces acting on it?”

Scratch that last thought.

Shit.

Think.

She continued to fuck you, but dragged that goddamn finger just outside your aching bundle of nerves, distracting you each time it came within close proximity.

Fucking hell.

Come on. You know this.

OH!

“Newtonian fluids!” you choked out.

“That’s my smart girl,” she whispered into your ear and flicked her finger against your swollen clit.

“Fuck!” you cried out as pain and pleasure radiated from that tiny point.

“Now, give me an example.” Her finger dipped lower, gathering more slick that had collected just above your entrance. “-in this room,” she added with a very obvious teasing lilt.

A fluid that continues to flow regardless of forces acting on it… in this room…

Was she really trying to get you to say that?

As she smeared the wetness from her finger all around the hood of your clit, you knew you had the answer she was looking for.

“My- My cum?”

“Mhm,” she hummed against your ear, her finger circling your clit once more.

“Please, Professor! I’m so close!” you begged.

“Not yet, sweetheart. Gotta be patient like I was. One more question.”

You bit your lip- hard- desperation to reach the end driving you mad.

“What is the coefficient of compressibility?”

Fuck.

“I- I-”

Another thrust, finger teasing so close.

With no coherent thought left in your head, all you could do was beg for her mercy.

“I can’t! God, p-please Professor. Please! I’ll do anything! Anything you want!” Your desperate pleas fell past your lips in a pathetic babble.

Her other hand left your hip and slipped between the desk and your stomach. With what little strength you had remaining, you lifted yourself up, allowing her hand to slip higher, between your breasts until her large fingers wrapped loosely around your throat, her forearm taking most of your weight.

“Anything?” she growled into your ear.

“Fuck yes!” you sobbed, your eyes flying open and allowing the tears of desperation to flow freely.

“Hmm, yes you will,” she hummed.

Then, god bless that fucking sinful woman, she slipped two fingers on either side of your swollen clit, timing each glide with a pump of the strap between your legs and the tightening of her fingers around your neck.

Your vision blurred, lids fluttering shut and eyes rolling back behind them. Airway restricted- just the slightest bit- you felt as if you were approaching a high. Any moment you’d fall, come crashing down into a pool of bliss.

“Should I stop this?”

The question echoed through your empty head. You had no idea what ‘this’ was, but you wanted nothing she was doing to stop.

“No, god please, no.” The voice you heard speak those words sounded nothing like your own. It was so deep, guttural, and uncontrolled.

“You like this?” she husked, fingers squeezing just a tad tighter, but enough to have you seeing stars.

“Fuck, yes,” you groaned.

“Good. Now cum for me.”

One more perfectly timed squeeze of her hand, glide of her fingers, and thrust of her faux cock was all it took to finally, finally send you toppling over the edge.

Your breath rushed out with a sputtered string of curses, her name mixed in. You felt weightless, like you were falling, even as her arm held the full weight of your chest. Waves of heat spread from your core throughout your entire body, every muscle burning as they contracted.

“That’s it. Let it all out,” she husked against your ear, her hand loosening its grip on your neck and pace slowing while she let you ride out the high.

When your babbling died down, fading into soft, labored breaths, she finally stilled completely and carefully lowered your upper half back down to rest on the desk.

Even with your eyes open, the room was a blur. As you settled against the desk, your cheek slid against the wooden top, still slick with more tears and sweat.

“You still with me, sweetheart?” your professor asked, combing through your hair with one hand while the other caressed your bound arms. She chuckled when all you could give her was a tiny nod. “That good, hm?”

You nodded again. Even if you could speak, words could never express the utter bliss you felt.

Her hands moved to the belt still binding your wrists and carefully removed it, tossing it aside on the desk as your hands fell limp along your sides. She shifted behind you, causing you to flinch when the silicone toy pressed against your overly sensitive walls.

“I’m gonna pull out now,” she warned, but before you could reply, she pulled back, ripping a sharp gasp from your sore, overused throat.

“Fuck,” you cursed under your breath.

She merely chuckled again and gave your ass a playful pat.

As you started to come to your senses, you realized your full weight rested on the desk, your legs had given out at some point. You tried to put a minuscule amount of weight on them, only to feel them tremble and threaten to buckle.

“I- I can’t stand,” you admitted sheepishly.

“No need.”

The next thing you knew, you were being manhandled– picked up, turned, and pulled onto your professor’s lap from where she sat in her chair. Somehow you managed to maneuver enough to straddle her, kicking your panties off the rest of the way in the process. The sticky strap rubbed against your swollen clit, overstimulation leaving you whining and grasping your professor’s shoulders.

“Shh,” she hushed you. Though her lips curled into a cocky, self-satisfied grin, her honeyed words were contrastingly sweet and soothing. “You did so well,” she cooed. She took your hands into her own, kissing along the red marks left along each wrist from where the belt had rubbed them raw during your struggles.

Then she cupped the side of your face and neck, examining how the sweat and tears had run your makeup, stained your bright red cheeks. “Look at you. Such a mess.” Her gray eyes glistened behind her glasses as they followed the path of her thumb tracing the apple of your cheek. “Such a beautiful mess.”

Your chest swelled and heated, spreading clear up through your neck to your cheeks. You pressed your cheek against her hand, biting your lip and giving her a bashful smile. When you swallowed, you felt a faint throbbing in your neck, a heated memory of where she’d wrapped that strong hand around it. One of your hands moved there instinctively, touching as you closed your eyes and relished the memory.

“Was- that too much?”

Your eyes flew open, alarmed by the unexpected hint of concern in your professor’s tone. That smile of hers was long gone and her eyes searched your neck after you pulled your hand away.

Oh fuck.

“Not at all!” you assured her, taken back by the sudden change in her demeanor, and admittedly rather moved by it. “I- I really enjoyed that,” you admitted with a shy, but reassuring smile.

“Yeah?” The corner of her mouth tugged upwards again.

You nodded, meeting her gaze and taking one of her hands to place it against your neck. Your hand slid over hers, squeezing it gently.

Her lips curled higher and she gripped your neck in her large hand, pupils dilating as she watched you close your eyes.

Your head lolled back, a soft moan falling past your parted lips.

She pulled you closer by the neck, her plush lips gliding over your chin and up along your jawline.

“Maybe you’re not such a good girl,” she husked.

Your hand slid down to wrap around her wrist, to ground yourself when your head began to spin, renewed lust taking the reins once again. The other hand fell to grip the arm of her chair as you felt her lips tease over yours.

It dawned on you that she’d fucked you stupid, and yet you hadn’t actually kissed her yet. But she just taunted you, held you still by your neck and let her warm breath mingle with yours.

“Professor, please,” you pleaded breathlessly. Your head may have been restrained, but your lower half was able to remove freely, allowing you to grind against her strap.

“Please what?” she asked, voice deep and taunting.

“Kiss me,” you pleaded, lips ghosting over hers as you spoke.

“Hmm,” she hummed, “Do you really think you deserve it?”

When you felt her run the tip of her tongue over your bottom lip, it took every ounce of willpower not to try to capture her mouth with your own. You attempted to swallow the lump forming in your throat, struggling to remain still for her. The heat returned between your thighs and you ground against her strap again. “Yes. I- I’ve been good for you.”

“You still gonna keep your word and do anything for me?”

“Yes.”

“You gonna ride my cock?”

‘Yes.”

“And clean the mess you’ve made after?”

“Yes ma’am.”

…

The silence that followed nearly drove you to the brink of insanity. Her warm breath fanned across your dry lips, but when you attempted to wet them with your tongue you were met with the tease of hers. Your resulting wanton moan became muffled the moment her lips finally pressed to yours.

Her hand slid down from your neck to slip under your shirt and grasp one of your breasts, squeezing it roughly while her tongue delved deeper into your mouth. She all but devoured the soft, sweet sounds you made as your senses were invaded by her heady kiss and touch. The taste of her mouth- smoky and just a hint of sweetness. The press of her lips- so unbelievably soft. The aggression of her probing tongue- overwhelmingly good. And the warmth of her large hand- teasingly rolling over the hardening peak of your breast.

When she finally broke the kiss, she let you rest your forehead against hers while you caught your breath. Staring into her gray eyes through those sexy glasses, you couldn’t believe any of this was happening. All those days and nights you spent thinking about her, you never truly thought you’d get here, especially like this. Never thought a woman so smart, sexy, gorgeous, and strong would give you the time of day, let alone fuck you so wild and passionately. It was utterly mind-blowing.

And yet, as you sat there, straddling her lap and feeling that familiar knot forming in your belly, she was watching you with just as much admiration and desire.

“Ready?” she asked, breaking the silence.

You nodded, teeth capturing your bottom lip in anticipation.

She tucked your skirt up and into its waistband then grasped your hips. She lifted you up over the tip of her faux cock, just letting you hover there for a moment. Raising her hips off her chair just enough to rub the tip over your sensitive clit, her lips curled into a smug smile as your face contorted at the teasing touch.

Hands braced on her broad shoulders, you locked eyes with her when she let you control your descent. You lowered yourself, ever so slowly, and though you were already looser from your first round, the stretch was still indescribably fulfilling. It took much of your remaining control to hold back the moan that tried to escape, the skin of your lip on the verge of breaking with how hard you bit down.

She captured your chin between thumb and forefinger, gently prying your lip out from between your teeth. “I want to hear those pretty little noises you make.”

Your cheeks heated, but you nodded obediently. As you sank lower, you finally let a soft, long moan slip free. The way her smile grew at that only served to encourage you further. “Fuck,” you breathed when you finally bottomed out. You collapsed forward, burying your face in her neck for a moment while you regained your senses and adjusted.

“Not already giving up on me are you?” The vibrations from her low chuckle reverberated from where her chest pressed into yours.

You sat back up, smiling at her shyly. “No, I just need a minute. Very sensitive after all… that.”

Her lips twitched at your last word, clearly proud of herself.

Fuck that lopsided grin of hers is so damn sexy.

“Take all the time you need,” she replied and ran her hands up and down your back beneath your top. She started to lift it up, then paused suddenly.

You met her eyes, curious why she stopped, and noticed she had raised a brow expectantly. She was asking for permission.

Hot.

And better yet, maybe you could use that to your advantage. Your eyes dropped to the gold chain she wore, followed it all the way down her neck and chest to where it disappeared between her cleavage and under her shirt.

“Can I unbutton yours?” you asked sweetly, feigning innocence despite the fact that you were obviously trying to bribe her.

She eyed you suspiciously for a moment, and you thought for sure she was going to deny it, but to your surprise, she gave you a short nod. “Suit yourself.”

You beamed and immediately reached for her top button.

“Ah-”

You stopped dead in your tracks, eyes flitting back up to hers.

“Yours first.”

Of course.

Not that you minded. Especially with how her eyes raked appreciatively over your exposed chest after she pulled your top off and tossed it onto the desk.

“Hmm,” she hummed and ran her hands up from your waist, over your sides, and slid her thumbs beneath each breast, pressing gently into the soft flesh. “So pretty.”

Beyond flattered by the compliment and excited to get to her shirt, you squirmed on her lap, completely forgetting the fact that her faux cock was still buried inside you. You whimpered at the unexpected stimulation, earning yourself another one of her sexy, taunting little laughs.

You sucked in a breath and held it, shaky hands reaching for that first button. You managed to get it out with little to no problem, but each subsequent button became increasingly difficult as your professor’s ministrations became more aggressive, fingers teasingly rolling and pinching your nipples. Without looking you could feel her smirk growing at your frustration while you struggled to remove the second to last button above the waistband of her slacks.

“Need some help?” she taunted.

“No. I can do IT!” the bite in your words was lost in the squeal you released when she gave both nipples a particularly hard, but downright blissful, pinch.

“What was that?”

“I said I can do…” You once again couldn’t finish your statement, this time because she had lifted her hips, pushing the silicone toy deeper inside you. “Fuck me,” you cursed under your breath, trying to clear the fog that pleasure had generated in your head.

She chuckled again, but took mercy on you and held off on the stimulation, allowing you to quickly remove the remaining buttons.

The excitement of finally seeing beneath her blouse had your every nerve firing up in overdrive. Bottom lip pulled between your teeth again, you slowly pushed her blouse open, revealing the expanse of that beautiful rich brown skin. Your eyes trailed from her deliciously toned abs to her equally delectable breasts. Turned out she wasn’t wearing a bra either and you wondered if that was specifically planned for tonight. And good god were her breasts beautiful, lying soft and heavy against her chest.

You met her gaze, a question in your eyes.

Can I touch?

A little nod of her head was all it took and your fingertips were at her abs, tracing each line, working your way up to her chest. You paused your exploration, nerves alight with anticipation. You weren’t prepared though, for the response she gave when you finally cupped that round, supple flesh in your hands and gently squeezed them.

The low, strained groan that left your professor’s mouth had your gaze darting to her face. With what little you could see behind her half-lidded eyes, her pupils had dilated. Even her hands had ceased their ministrations on your breasts.

Oh. Wow.

Fuck, you wanted to explore more of that, but the moment your hands froze in shock, her eyes narrowed and honed in on you.

“That’s enough. Now ride my cock or I’ll make you do it myself.”

You swallowed hard, not about to argue with that, and moved your hands back up to her shoulders. As soon as you started to lift off her lap, the toy dragging along your walls, her smirk reappeared. You knew she could see you straining, fighting the ache that spread through your legs at the stimulation.

She slid her hands to your back, gently running them up and down as she watched you set a slow, but not so steady pace.

You closed your eyes, trying to block out her distractingly smug grin while you struggled to remain composed enough to bounce on her lap. Each descent drug a low moan from your throat. And as you increased the speed, the muscles in your legs throbbed and threatened to give out.

“That’s my good girl, bounce for me,” Sevika husked. She slid one hand down to your lower back while the other grabbed one of your tits.

“Professor,” you mewled, faltering at the distracting sensations.

She ignored your plea and instead leaned forward to catch your nipple in her mouth while you attempted to keep riding her.

Blunt nails skimmed down your back until they sank into your hip. That hand guided your motions and kept the pace as soon as you started to lose the ability to use your legs, weakened when the pleasure became too much.

“Professor, I- I can’t,” you huffed between descents. You sank your own nails into her shoulders, willing yourself to keep going despite your muscles screaming and burning.

She chuckled against your breast before swirling her tongue around the hardened peak. “Thought you said you could,” she murmured teasingly against your other breast.

“I- I was- OH!”

She bit down on your nipple, and judging by the curl of lips against your skin, she was intentionally trying to fuck with you.

“Professor, please. I- I was wrong,” you managed to get out.

The hand playing with your breast slid down to your other hip, gripping it tight.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” she husked after pulling back from your breast to examine your strained expression.

She took over control, lifting you up and pulling you back down at a pace that had you gripping her shoulders tighter. And each time she pulled you down, she lifted her hips to grind the base of her strap against your clit.

With the sensitivity still lingering from your first orgasm, and her skilled arms and hips, it didn’t take long for that familiar tightening sensation to return.

No longer able to even hold your body upright, you collapsed against her chest, your breasts bouncing against hers as she continued unhindered. You buried your face in her neck, murmuring and moaning how good it felt while the lewd squelching sounds of your sopping cunt being pummeled echoed off the classroom walls.

Feeling the inevitable climax fast approaching, you sucked in a breath and sank your teeth into the soft flesh between her neck and shoulder, muffling your cry of ecstasy when your second orgasm tore through you.

Too lost in the pleasure rippling through your body, you failed to hear her hiss of pain when your teeth sank deeper, nearly breaking skin.

Her grip on your hips tightened, but she never faltered, bouncing you on her cock until she felt you release your bite and fall completely limp against her.

Both of you sat there for a moment, saying nothing, only listening to the other’s heavy breathing. Your chests rose and fell in sync, skin sliding along skin slick with sweat, and you were grateful for her allowing you to open that shirt. The contact grounded you while you recovered from your high.

Professor Sevika slid her hands from your hips to your back, fingertips drawing lazy patterns along your spine. It was contrastingly sweet compared to the wild night she’d given you and it made your racing heart skip a beat.

It dawned on you, as the haze cleared from your head and your lips glided over her skin, that you had left quite the mark on her. Blinking, you lifted your head just enough to peer down at the damage. You really had done a number on her, left two nice rows of dark red indents along that beautiful brown skin. Brows furrowed in worry, you sat up and examined her face. She didn’t seem upset- a lazy, cocky smile on those dark lips.

“I’m so sorry about that,” you whispered, voice hoarse from overuse. You trailed your finger tenderly across the marks.

She chuckled. “Don’t you worry about that. I’ll wear it like a battle scar.”

You smiled at her bashfully, not only relieved that she didn’t mind, but flattered that she would so proudly let them be seen.

She pulled you closer, ghosting her lips over yours. “Besides, I’ll just have to make sure I mark my claim as well,” she purred.

And just like that, the pleasant ache of arousal returned to your lower half.

God, she knew just what to say to make you melt.

Before you could lean in and take the kiss she was teasing you with, she pulled back. “Now for you to keep to your end of the bargain. You’re gonna clean the mess you’ve made.”

What exactly she meant didn’t immediately register, but the moment you followed her eyes when they dropped to where your body met hers, you realized what she meant.

Oh.

You had no qualms with that, but there was the problem of your legs. Every muscle burned and ached, threatened to turn to liquid the moment you attempted to put any weight on them. “I- I still don’t know if I can use my legs.” Your cheeks heated at the confession.

“I can help you with that,” she replied, and you could hear the cocky edge in her tone. Her hands returned to your hips, ready to lift you off.

“Wait!” You exclaimed, a little louder than intended.

She raised a brow, but her hands stilled at your sides.

“Can I have another kiss first?”

“For someone who’s deserving of a good punishment, you sure have a lot of requests,” she sneered.

“Is that a yes then?” you asked, trying but failing to hide your smile.

She said nothing, instead slipped one hand behind your head and pulled you closer.

Your lips parted the moment they connected with hers, a quiet sigh escaping at the softness. Her tongue teased along the inside of your upper lip, drawing back when you tried to meet it with your own. The muffled whine of protest that pulled from your throat turned into a sharp gasp when she captured your bottom lip between her teeth and tugged.

After one more quick press of her lips to yours, she slowly lifted you up off the sticky silicone toy, pulling a long whine from you in the process. The overstimulation you’d felt before had increased tenfold. Though you could tell she was trying to be gentle, the upward tug at the corner of her mouth did not go unnoticed.

Then she carefully helped you sink down to your knees between her spread legs.

You moved your hands over her thighs, letting them hover there for a moment while you peered up at her, waiting for her permission to touch. When she nodded, you let your hands run up the length of her legs, from knees to the very apex of her thighs.

The dark black faux cock was more than a little coated with your release, a clear indication of just how fucking good she’d made you feel.

Scooting closer, you peered up at her through your lashes, watching her reaction closely while you drug the tip of your tongue from base to tip. That earned you a pleased smirk, encouraging you to keep up the display. The taste of your own release filled your mouth, bitter but arousing. Your eyes fell shut, a soft moan rolling past your lips.

“That's it,” she purred from above you. She caressed your cheek with the backs of her knuckles as you peered up at her sweetly. "Now be a good girl and get it all for me."

You ran your tongue up the length again, this time with the flat of your tongue, half-lidded eyes still on hers.

Her hand moved from your cheek to the back of your head to gently guide you over the tip. “How much can that pretty mouth of yours take?” she husked.

As much as she fucking wants.

“Can you take it all for me?”

You weren’t sure, but there was no way in hell you weren’t going to try your damnedest. So you gave her an innocent little nod and adjusted your position, raising yourself up higher despite your legs protesting against the extra strain. Her hand, though heavy where it rested at the back of your head, remained still, allowing you to control the motion. Taking a deep breath, you wrapped your lips loosely around the tip and slowly descended, taking the sticky strap inch by inch until your lips kissed the base.

Your eyes watered as you struggled not to gag when the tip touched the back of your throat. You closed your eyes, concentrating on your breathing. Then, with your tongue pressed against the slick silicone and lips pursed, you slowly dragged back up the length, coming off the end with a wet pop.

“Let me see,” she demanded before you could swallow. She took your chin between her thumb and forefinger and gently pressed down.

Obediently, you let your jaw go slack, allowing her to open your mouth. You watched her expression closely when you stuck your tongue out, relishing in how her lips curled higher in approval.

“So good for me,” she purred, and she slowly leaned down to capture your lips with hers.

Your eyes fell shut and her tongue immediately delved inside your mouth, swiping over yours to collect the slick and saliva that coated it. You groaned and pressed further into the kiss. A deep hum of satisfaction rumbled from her chest and up through her throat. You dug your nails into her thighs.

When she broke the kiss, you peered up at her from beneath your heavy lids. She met your gaze through her glasses, gray eyes sparkling with mirth.

How does she stay so cool and in control while you kneel at her feet dizzy and overwhelmed from her kiss alone?

"That's only half the job.”

What?

That statement pulled you from your thoughts, but even as you repeated the words in your head, you weren’t sure what she meant. Your attention dropped to the strap, which was, in your opinion, pretty fucking clean for having only used your mouth.

Without warning, Professor Sevika stood, nearly knocking you backward when the faux cock sprung close to your face. You tilted your head back, staring up at her with a quizzical look.

Fuck she’s so damn tall.

She simply smirked down at you while she slipped off her harness and tossed it into her bag on the floor.

You patiently waited, hoping whatever she meant to happen next would come to light. And it certainly did the moment she reached for the top button of her slacks.

Oh god yes.

She must have noticed when the realization struck you, given how her lips curled even higher. With the button pushed out of its loop, she slowly- teasingly- pulled the zipper down.

Your fingers curled, clawing at the tops of your thighs where your hands rested. You were finally going to get to relive that fantasy and there was no containing the excitement that sparked through your body like lightning.

Hands back at her sides, she regarded you for a moment, enjoying just how eager you appeared kneeling there at her feet. “Go ahead.”

Those two words, though alone sounded like permission, you could tell there was more to it. She wanted to reward you.

Despite how badly you yearned for this moment, you reached out slowly, hands damn near trembling as you slipped your fingers beneath the waistband of her slacks and underwear. The skin beneath was warm, smooth, and taut, and as you stripped her down, bit by bit, you could see a very prevalent v-line poking out from beneath the hem of her blouse.

As you slipped her clothing past her ass, she took a seat at the edge of her chair. Even when you pulled them clear down to her ankles, she kept her legs closed, unlike the way she’d typically sit. It was clearly her way of dragging the moment out, teasing you, getting you even more worked up. And it sure as hell was working.

You met her eyes when she bent down to gently lift your chin with her forefinger beneath it. Your throat bobbed as you swallowed hard, anticipation boiling up inside you, threatening to break what little control you had left.

"You like being teacher's pet, hm?” She hummed. “You have been very good for me. I think you deserve a treat."

When she released your chin, your wide eyes dropped to the apex of her thighs, mouth damn near salivating as she ever-so-slowly began to spread those strong, thick thighs of hers. Thighs you’d give anything to have your head between. And you’d finally have that. Any second now.

The smell of her arousal permeated the air around you. Your thighs rubbed together in an attempt to soothe the growing ache quickly taking over your lower half once again.

She smelled so fucking good.

Eyes hungrily glued between her legs, you whimpered at the sight of just how wet she was.

And it was all for you. You got her wet. You excited her. You turned her on.

As you settled between her thighs you ran your hands up the length of her toned legs, fingertips memorizing each muscle as they flexed beneath smooth brown skin. Her gaze felt heavy and heated while she watched you, and you wondered if she was struggling with patience as much as you were. For as much as you wanted to just dive right in, you wanted to take this moment slowly, enjoy it, relish in everything she offered you.

When your hands reached the tops of her thighs you peered up at her through your lashes. She wore a smile unlike one you’d seen before, lips slightly parted, revealing a small tooth gap you’d never had the opportunity to see before.

Could she possibly be any more attractive?

You smiled up at her sweetly and began gradually peppering soft kisses up along the insides of her thigh. Those wonderful muscles flexed beneath your lips the closer you got to her center, her legs spreading wider to allow your head more room. When your mouth pressed against the line where thigh meets pelvis you let your eyes fall shut and took a moment to just breathe in the scent of her. Musky, but with the slightest hint of that smoky spice you’d come to associate with her.

A large, warm hand at the back of your head drew your attention back up to your professor. You expected her to either give you a look suggesting you get to it, or to just pull your face against her, but she simply looked down at you through heavy lids, mouth still pulled into that little smile.

But you weren’t going to make either of you wait a moment longer.

Eyes locked on hers you leaned forward, tip of your tongue creeping out to barely tease through her wet slit. Even with that tiny swipe, the taste of her overwhelmed your mouth. Though slightly bitter like your own slick, she had her own unique flavor and it left your head spinning. You groaned, in unison with her own quiet sigh. You could feel her fingertips lightly curl against the back of your head where her hand rested.

So good.

Her lids grew heavier, urging you to take another taste and see just what kind of reactions you could get from her. You went in for another, this time tracing her soft folds, one swipe for each side. That earned you another delightfully deep groan that made your clit throb with need. And it seemed with that, her patience was finally wearing thin.

“C’mon. Be a good girl for me and clean up the mess you’ve made.”

Her voice- good god her sexy voice- was far raspier than usual, just dripping with lust. And you could see it in her eyes too, through the tiny slits that remained beneath her lids. She wanted this bad.

Not about to keep her waiting any longer, you gripped the top of her thighs and pressed the full length of your tongue inside her. Blunt nails dug into your scalp when you swirled your tongue around her walls, collecting as much of her arousal as you could before dragging it back out. You moaned as you swallowed, but immediately delved back inside, nose rubbing against her clit while you lapped at the fluids leaking from her.

She adjusted slightly in her seat, moving herself closer to the edge, and guided your face closer.

You were more than happy to oblige her by getting your face further in there, sucking on her folds before finally wrapping your lips around her swollen clit. Nose buried in the thick, dark patch of hair above, you slid your tongue around the tiny bundle of nerves, delighting in how that made her hips buck towards your face.

Her quiet, deep groans quickly became more prevalent the more you worked at her, and her grip on the back of your head became tighter and tighter. The moment you added suction to the mix of stimulation, she seemed to lose her composure.

“Fuck,” she groaned, nails biting into your scalp as she thrust toward your mouth again. “Just like that.”

Your own moans filled the air, pleasure coursing through your body at all the lovely reactions you were getting from her. You were beginning to wonder if you’d simply get off right there to just that.

Focused on her clit, you sucked, swirled, and flicked it, increasing the speed and intensity when you sensed her approaching climax. You could feel the muscles beneath your fingers tensing tighter.

The hand at the back of your head tightened in its grip and she started grinding against your face in earnest. And good god you could suffocate right there and die literally the happiest person on the fucking planet knowing you were the one making her feel so fucking good, making her want to fuck your face so wildly. It was heaven.

Unable to ignore your own needs any longer, you let one of your hands slip down between your legs, focusing your attention there, letting her take the reins and ride your face. Your insides tightened with each stroke of your fingers through your slick folds, each thrust of her hips, and each beautiful groan that spilled from her mouth.

Her movements suddenly became erratic and her thighs clamped around your head, holding you in a vice grip. Had you not been so overcome with your own delirious pleasure, you would have been disappointed that her curses of pleasure had been muffled by the press of her thighs against your ears.

She came hard and hot on your tongue and chin, smearing it across your face while she rode out her high. You were close yourself, but your focus switched to her again when her movements faltered. Your hand stilled between your legs and you worked your tongue to clean up every last drop that spilled from her.

When her hand and thighs finally released their death grip on your head, you fell back on your haunches, chest heaving while you stared up at her in a daze. To your utter delight, she appeared to be just as fucked out, at least compared to her typical cool composure.

Professor Sevika sat slumped back in her chair, breasts exposed between her mostly unbuttoned shirt, rising and falling with her heavy breaths. Her forehead glistened, covered by a fine sheen of sweat. She peered down at you through her foggy glasses, gray eyes barely open.

You wiped the side of your hand across your face and tried to contain the proud smile pulling at your lips. She looked utterly fucked, and you did that to her.

The two of you sat like that for a short period, trying to catch your breath, observing the other. She, miraculously, seemed to recover first. Not that it really should have surprised you. She clearly was far more experienced and skilled.

She stood to her full height before you and pulled her pants back up. With that lopsided grin painting her face once more, she knelt down and pressed the tip of her forefinger beneath your chin. “Now to clean you.”

Oh fuck yes.

Feeling the pressure she applied beneath your chin, you took that as her silent command to stand, and so you did, all while keeping your eager, wide eyes locked with hers.

The moment you were on your feet her hands slipped behind the backs of your thighs and she hoisted you up.

You squealed in surprise, earning yourself a low chuckle from her. She plopped your ass down on her desk without any regard to the papers, pens, and pencils that then scattered and fell to the floor. With your hands braced against the edge of the desk, you waited with bated breath for what was to come next.

She bent down to steal a quick kiss, but slipped away before you could lean in to deepen it. Your disappointment was short-lived though, as you watched her take a seat in her chair and roll herself between your spread legs.

“Lay back.”

You did as you were told, but propped yourself up on your forearms, wanting nothing more than to see her beautiful face between your legs while she assuredly gave you the most mind-blowing head you’d ever receive if any of her other performances were an indication.

“Wait!” you called out when she reached to pull off her glasses. She arched a brow and your cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “Keep them on, please,” you asked softly.

“You really are a dirty girl, aren’t you?” she sneered, but she obliged your request and instead busied her hands by running them up and down the sides of your thighs.

Unlike you, she did not take her time. With a firm grasp on your hips, she pulled your ass closer to the edge.

The startled yelp that pulled from your throat turned into a soft gasp when she grasped the back of your thighs, just below the back of your knees, and pushed them up towards the sides of your chest.

It left you spread wide open and on display in all your- soaked- glory, which she made sure to point out to you as if you hadn’t noticed.

“Look at you. Sweet little pussy just absolutely dripping,” she teased. Her eyes remained on your face though, watching you squirm and try to hide your embarrassment by turning your head away.

“Hey! Eyes on me!”

The sharp, dangerous tone of that command had your head pivoting back to face her so fast you’d quickly forgotten about your exposure.

“Good girl. I want to see that pretty face, understand?” she asked, tone softening.

Not trusting yourself to speak, you nodded.

And then, as she lowered her head, every muscle in your body tensed, the anticipation- from both of you- palpable.

The moment her mouth connected with your folds you released your breath in a shaky whimper. Once again she gave you no time to recover, running the flat of her tongue up through your entrance, the tip just barely teasing over the hood of your clit.

You clenched around nothing, earning yourself a wicked little smirk from your professor. Bottom lip caught between your teeth, you tried to hold back needy moans while she pushed that devilish wet muscle of hers deep inside you. Even though it couldn’t fill you like her fingers or strap, she managed to press and drag it along your walls with perfect precision and hard enough to leave you trembling.

You reached forward with one hand, barely keeping yourself stable with the other, and carded your fingers through her hair. And oh how fucking soft it was. Like silk. You tugged on it while her tongue swirled teasingly around your clit.

As much as you wanted to watch her, you weren’t sure your arm could hold you up much longer. With every glide of that tongue, and every deep hum of satisfaction that rumbled from her chest, you could feel your muscles burn and ache more and more.

You finally lost that remaining strength when you felt her soft lips wrap around your clit and suck. You fell back against the desk, both hands clawing at the unforgiving wood while she quickly worked you up.

“Oh fuck, Sevika, that feels so good,” you whimpered. Too drunk on your pleasure, you hadn’t even realized you’d forgotten to use her honorific. But she either didn’t hear or didn’t care, as she continued to drive you closer to the edge of your third orgasm of the night.

Your eyes rolled back behind their lids, heat pooling deep in your abdomen. The obscene sounds of her slurping, sucking, and all but devouring your cunt dissolved into muffled echoes behind the blood roaring in your ears.

Any second.

A gentle suction of lips.

Just a little more.

A sharp flick of the tongue.

A flash of bright white light took over your vision as trails of fire spread through your trembling body. Your cries or ecstasy rang through your ears and everything else faded away. Muscles contracted repeatedly, feeding your professor more and more of your slick.

Just as quick as that high hit you, it started to fade. And then set in the overstimulation, far worse than after your previous orgasms. Each swipe of her tongue made your body jerk involuntarily.

“Pro-Professor!” you whined. “Please! No more!”

She ceased immediately, sitting up to observe you through hooded eyes with blown pupils. And fuck, if you hadn’t felt so much pain from the overstimulation, you would have gladly let her keep going. But you were officially spent. You had nothing else to give.

She said nothing, wiping her mouth off on the back of her hand while she watched your breasts rise and fall. She moved her chair closer and carefully pulled your limp body across the desk and onto her lap.

You wrapped your arms loosely over her shoulders and collapsed against her, face buried in the side of her neck. Two large, warm hands ran up and down your back, soft lips pressing the most tender kisses along your hairline, and you simply melted.

“You alright, sweetheart?” she finally asked after a moment, voice low and raspy, but you could hear the hint of concern in there.

You slowly sat up, meeting her worried gaze with a sweet smile. “Never felt better.”

There was that haughty smirk again.

She pulled you closer, her lips capturing yours in a soft, but passionate kiss.

Your lips parted to release a soft, content moan, allowing her tongue to dip inside and for you to taste the bitter remnants of your arousal.

When she broke the kiss- much to your disappointment- she quickly soothed away any complaint you had with a playful tease. “Think you’ve learned your lesson?”

Your breathy laugh made her lips pull higher, revealing that cute tooth gap again. “I’m not sure that punishment really taught me anything,” you admitted with a big smile.

A single brow lifted. “That so?” she asked and you simply grinned in response. “Guess I’ll just have to go harder on you.”

Your eyes widened.

Is she just joking, or would she really do this again?

“You know, I am teaching a summer course this year. Could use the help of an intelligent grad.”

Your eyes lit up.

“Really?!”

She pulled you closer again, running her nose along the side of your neck as she pressed her lips against the taut flesh. “Mhm,” she murmured just below your ear, drawing a shiver down your spine. “Know anybody?”

Eyes falling shut as you succumbed to her sensual attention, you found yourself unable to formulate words, instead giving her a low “mhm.”

“And who might that be?” she purred into your ear, warm breath tickling the tiny hairs along your neck.

You squirmed in her arms, releasing something caught between a quiet giggle and a soft moan. “I-” your words caught in your throat when you felt her take your lobe between her teeth and gently bite down.

“Hmm?”

Fuck.

She really knew how to mess with you. And you’d be a damn liar if you ever claimed it didn’t drive you mad with desire.

“Me?” you managed to whisper.

“Yeah?”

You hummed in agreement.

She pressed several more kisses along your jawline before finally pulling back to regard your very flustered expression. “Now, why don’t you come back to my place and tell me about more of those fantasies, seeing as we’ll have all summer to live them out?”

Hell, fucking, yes.

[sl-newsie]

Mature (Dr. Spencer Reid x College Student)

(Summary: The BAU gets a case that takes place near a college campus, and one student seems to catch Reid’s attention. There is a bit of an age gap. This is based during the end of Season 6. Warnings: Talk of cannibalism, gun violence)

“Remember class: Monday’s exam will have 150 questions and no makeups. Remember to study hard!”

My dental hygiene professor finally releases us, signaling the beginning of the weekend. It’s currently 5:30 on a sunny but crisp Friday in October. Nothing special, but the lack of leaves and chilly frosts makes it one of my favorite seasons. But I can’t take too much time to watch the weather- I’ve got work to do.

Of course I’m the only student who dares to sit in the front of the lecture hall, and I take my time to gather up my things as the others start filing out.

“You going to the game tonight?” One guys asks his friends.

“Yeah it’s gonna be sick! You’re bringing the beer, right?”

“Sure am! And what about-” He whispers: “The pot?”

Their conversation dies away as the walk out of the room, leaving me to shake my head in disappointment. No doubt their whole weekend will involve drinking, getting high, and possible sexual content. More than likely they’ll fail the exam.

“Merrian! Are you coming to the game?” I hear one classmate, Regina, ask.

“No, I can’t. I’m going for a jog and then starting my flashcards for the exam.”

Regina, one of the more popular and *cough* snobby girls gives me a fake smile. “Oh you never go to any social events! Why not give that brain a break and be a college student for once?”

I just shake my head and continue to look through my notes. “I am being a college student, only I’m being a smart one and actually trying to get through this class without depleting any brain cells through alcohol abuse.”

But my insult flies right over Regina’s head. She just keeps smiling, turns and walks away, leaving me (no surprise) alone again. But it appears today has something else in store, because the door opens and my professor walks back in leading a group of people who look way too professional for a place like this. The one that appears to be the leader is tall, dark-haired, and is wearing a traditional business suit. The man following next to him appears to be of Italian descent and is wearing a dark suit similar to the leader’s. Next is a blonde woman wearing- quite honestly, one of the most unique outfits I’ve ever seen. It’s a purple and blue patterned dress, hot pink heels, and a big purple bow with her hair in pigtails (it almost puts my current Veronica Sawyer gray skirt and blue blazer outfit to shame). Another man is bald with darker skin and a more athletic build, wearing a more laid-back style of clothing, obviously the muscle of the group. And last behind him is- huh. He’s a lot younger (and much cuter) than the others, one might say a few years older than me. He’s dark-haired like the other men and wearing slacks with a white shirt with a gray vest and blue tie, almost matching me. But what stands apart from his attire is the pistol tucked in a holster attached to his belt. It’s almost like the one I’ve got tucked under my skirt (for protection, of course). Are these guys from the police station? They don’t look like local authorities.

But sadly I’m still in the front and am caught looking.

“Who’s the model?” The blonde with pigtails asks, making me turn pink.

My professor finally notices me. “Oh yes. This is Merrian, one of my students. She’s just packing up-”

“On the contrary, it might be nice to have a younger person’s opinion on this matter,” the Italian agent speaks.

A younger opinion?

“By the way, I love your blazer!” The blonde squeals and rushes over to get a better look.

I title my head. “Not too bad yourself, Barbie.”

But the leader doesn’t seem too impressed. “At ease, Garcia. Remember why we’re here.”

The blonde nods and backs off, leaving me facing the group head-on.

“Is she trustworthy? We need to keep this as confidential as possible,” the athlete says.

My professor nods her head. “Merrian is one of the most dedicated students I have. I guarantee she’ll give you her best effort.”

“Very well.” The leader steps forward to shake my hand. “I’m FBI Agent Hotchner of the BAU. These are Agents Rossi, Morgan, Garcia, and Dr. Reid.” He points to each agent, and when he introduces Agent Reid I can’t help but notice his body language shifts. He keeps playing with his hands and changing his footing, and isn’t as relaxed as the other agents. Maybe he just drank coffee.

I give a small wave. “Hello. So, what is it you guys do? Obviously you’re a government department but I’ve never really paid attention to that stuff.”

“Don’t you watch the news?” The blonde ‘Garcia’ asks.

“Nope.”

This answer gets me surprised reactions, especially from Reid. 

“Why not?”

Yes, he’s definitely younger. His voice reminds me of the smart nerd type, but with my educational history I’ve never actually been able to meet many smart guys so it’s very new to hear this.

I shrug. “Ignorance is bliss. I figure if there’s something that’s truly important that’ll affect me then I’ll hear about it sooner or later. I try not to let the fear that strands from current events control my life.”

“Ok. Then to catch you up, we have a potential threat that’s been sited near the edge of town. There’s a man who’s been catching people in hunting traps and then eating them.”

Uh- Oh my! Was not expecting that. 

I try to keep a steady face. “Alright. So what does this have to do with me?”

“Your current study of dental work, plus the unsub seems to prefer female victims,” Reid speaks up. “There’s one witness who managed to escape his trap, but not before he bit her. We’ve been able to analyze the teeth marks, but it doesn’t match the correct dental records. They show the unsub’s supposed to be someone who died 10 years ago. We checked the death certificate and sure enough the body’s buried in a nearby cemetery. Do you have any ideas why?”

I take a deep breath and try to piece together what I’ve learned so far. I’ve only been in this program for a year, but that doesn’t mean I’m useless.

“Take your time,” Agent Rossi assures. “It doesn’t have to be much, just anything we might have missed-”

I snap. “I got it! Have any of you guys ever seen the movie The Whole Nine Yards with Bruce Willis?”

Most shake their heads, but then Reid seems to follow my idea.

“Of course! Why didn’t I think of that? Brilliant, Marrian!”

“Excuse me, mind letting us in on your inside joke?” Agent Morgan questions.

“At the end of the movie, they modify another body’s teeth to match Bruce Willis’ character and then burn it in a fire so the mafia will think he’s dead. What if this unsub had dental work done so he couldn’t be traced? ” My explanation starts the agents sparking up new conversations, leaving me to believe I might have actually just helped solve an FBI case.

“I know it’s not the type of professional answer you might have wanted.”

“That’s just the kind of insight we were looking for,” Agent Hotchner finally addresses me. “Thank you, Merrian. We’ll be sure to stay in touch and inform you if this threat is neutralized.”

He walks out, followed by Morgan. But the others linger for a moment.

“You’re taking all of this surprisingly well,” Rossi points out. “Ever consider becoming a profiler?”

I chuckle. “I did once, a few years ago. Sociology is one of my favorite subjects to learn, but I’ve just used that as a hobby. When I looked further into the job description I decided I wanted a career that wouldn’t take so much out of my free time. So for now I’m sticking with dental hygiene.”

He nods. “Well if you change your mind, here’s my card.” He hands me his contact info and exits after the other 2 agents.

“Tell me- where did you get your shoes?” Garcia asks when she points to my feet.

“Oh. Um, Goodwill actually.” I’m a bit embarrassed to say I’m a thrifter, but in college all money must go to classes.

“They’re so cute! I’ll email you my list of favorite thrift websites later,” she remarks as she walks to the door. 

“B- But Agent Garcia you don’t have my email-?”

“I’ll find it.” She winks. “And call me Penelope!”

She gives Reid a smirk and shuts the door, leaving me alone with the last agent.

“I gotta ask, how old are you?”

My blunt question doesn’t seem to be new to him. “30.”

I was right!

“Sorry for asking, but it’s just very different-”

“To see someone like me on a government bureau team,” he finishes. “It’s ok, lots of people ask. I could say the same thing about you.”

I frown. “What do you mean?”

He mirrors my confusion. “Aren’t you close to my age?”

“I’m 22.”

Reid’s eyes widen. “No way! You look- I mean, you seem- Um… you don’t act 22.”

I chuckle and go to grab my backpack. “I get that a lot. My mom says I’m more mature than most people my age, which means I have to be forced to associate with immature peers. I just hope other people never assume I’m the typical college type. You know, drugs, drinking, sex, procrastination. I’ve never even gone to one party. I apologize for the idiots you might come across here.”

I expect the FBI agent to leave it at that and go off to find his team, but instead he jogs up behind and walks with me down the hall.

“No I don’t see you like that, it’s just… you’re definitely more mature, and seem more clear-headed than the other students I’ve seen here so far.

I hold my head back and laugh. “Oh, no. By no means am I as smart as you might think. I have what I call ‘selective knowledge.’ I never picked just one topic I like, so I find bits and pieces of information about all kinds of topics. But not too much in depth that I’m an expert. With what I know about you so far I’d say you’re way more smart.”

He looks down. “Yeah, kinda.”

“Spill it. What’s your education background?”

“Um… I’ve got PhDs in mathematics, chemistry, and engineering. Bachelor’s in psychology, sociology, and in the process of one in philosophy.”

I stop dead in my tracks and turn to look at him with wide eyes. “And you’re downplaying that? Jesus, you’ve got more knowledge stuffed in your brain then I’d ever have in 5 lifetimes! Why choose a job in the BAU?”

He considers this. “I find that I do some of my best work under intense terror.”

I nod. “It’s nice to know what type of job works best. I’ve jumped around different jobs, and still haven’t found one that fits right. As for the terror thing, props to you for dealing with that on a daily basis.”

Dr. Reid seems surprised. “Hm. You don’t mind crazy talk, do you?”

I stifle a laugh and hold the next door open for him to pass. “‘Crazy talk?’ What’s that?”

“Talking about subjects that any random passerby would find odd, like murder or psychological disease.”

“You’re talking to someone who watches The Conjuring as a comfort film. I don’t call that crazy talk, I call that enjoyable conversation,” I smile cheekily as he walks past me through the doorway. “You gonna go find your team now?”

Reid clears his throat and bites his lip. “Well, um… Since the unsub’s been sighted near the city I should make sure to get you to your dorm safely.”

This unsub must be pretty dangerous for him to be this anxious. Or is it something else that’s got him so worried? I must say it feels nice to have a smart guy to talk with who’s actually taking the time to make sure I’m safe instead of daring me to chug a beer.

“Aw, that’s sweet. But I don’t live in a dorm, I live in a small rented room downtown.”

“Really? I guess you really aren’t like normal students. So where are you going now?”

Is he asking professionally or out of curiosity?

“There’s a secret spot I have in the theatre lab. Dark and quiet with a nice table. Good for studying.”

He perks up. “Dark? Do you think you could show me?”

I shrug and start leading him to the lab, pushing my sleeve back to check my watch. “Sure, just don’t tell anyone. I like having a place where stupidity is at a minimum.”

Reid gets a wide grin on his face and follows eagerly. “Your secret’s safe with me. It’s kind of embarrassing but lately I’ve been dealing with- Oh my gosh! Are you hurt?”

I follow his gaze to my arm, which has gauze wrapped around it. I’m surprised he noticed- usually people don’t give it a second thought.

“Wha-? Oh, no. I donated plasma earlier today and have to keep this on for 2 hours.”

“I see. Do you get paid?”

“Yup. If they’re willing to pay me to sit in a chair for an hour, money is money. Gotta pay the college bills somehow. So what have you been dealing with?”

“Right. Um, I’ve had these headaches for a while now and none of the doctors I’ve seen can tell me what’s wrong. They’re triggered by bright lights, so that’s why I like to find dark places to think.”

Hearing this makes me sad, especially since a nice guy like him shouldn’t have to go through something like that.

“Then don’t have me keep ya waiting. Here we are!”

Now we’re at the theatre lab and when I open the door to let him in, Reid . “So then how are you liking your dental hygiene clinicals?”

I set my backpack down and switch a small light on. “I like it, but it’s more of a job that pays well and allows me free time. Next summer I’m looking into a program that gives me a certificate in culinary pastry design-” I stop myself before I start ranting. “Sorry, I don’t mean to talk your ear off. People don’t always listen this long so I usually just talk to keep away any awkward silence. Americans are intimidated by it, you know.”

Agent Reid just nods and sits down on a nearby stool. “I don’t mind. I like hearing you talk.”

“But it’s not as intellectual as you’re used to.”

“Maybe not, but- how should I describe it? You’re like a funfetti cake.”

Reid’s analogy makes me giggle and give him an odd look. “Um, thanks? How so?”

“Because you’re not just one flavor. You bring a sprinkling of all different topics, and none of them are boring or immature. Go ahead, continue.” Reid sits back as if he’s sitting in for a lecture, and I’m the teacher.

“Um… ok. So anyways, between work, school, and all my other hobbies it’s no surprise when I keep telling my mom I haven't gone on a date-”

“Wait, seriously?” Reid interrupts. “You’ve never gone on a date?”

I try to ignore the heat rushing to my cheeks and go turn on the music speaker. “Never got a chance to. Back in high school I was more introverted and read all the time. Now no one wants to be around a boring, mature college student who dresses… like this.” I gesture to my unusual outfit.

“Hm. I’d think you would’ve been able to find at least one decent guy.”

I’m not sure if he’s kidding or just trying to be nice.

“Don’t make me laugh. Even the few guys I’ve talked to see me as a colleague or acquaintance, not even friendship status. I’ve steered clear of all the red flags and bad habits college kids typically get into, and it’s gotten me this far. All I’ve got is some family, my cat, and my brain.”

Reid doesn’t say anything, and a part of me is glad for it while the other half is a nervous wreck. While I don’t want to really get into the details of my miserable social life, at the same time I’m strangely anxious about what the handsome doctor thinks of me.

“It’s the musical season, isn’t it? I can tell you’re a fan.” How does he-? “I’m guessing on account of the Newsies sticker on your water bottle and your outfit that resembles Veronica Sawyer from Heathers.”

A smile grows on my face. “Oh! A profiling genius and a theatre fan! You’ve got quite the brain, Dr. Reid.”

“I actually only recently got interested in it after watching one of Garcia’s plays- oh! You actually remembered!” Reid scratches his head and smiles. “Thanks, that means a lot.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“People don’t always address me by my full title. So what’s on your agenda now?” He seems to rethink and adds: “Not that I’m being nosy!”

His curiosity isn’t uncomfortable for me. If anything it’s nice to have someone take an interest.

“I was going to practice for musical auditions, but since you’re here I’ll just do some homework.”

“Oh I don’t mind! Really! I won’t laugh, promise,” Reid says sincerely.

“No, no. I do my best work alone, as always.”

He frowns. “That’s not a healthy mindset.”

I chuckle darkly. “I’m not exactly the ‘teamwork makes the dreamwork’ kinda gal. I’ve always done best on my own, so I don’t argue it-”

“Attention, attention!” The intercom starts blasting an alarm overhead. “There has been a potential shooter spotted near the edge of campus. All students, staff, and visitors are to head immediately towards a sheltered area. This is not a drill. I repeat, this is not a drill!”

Agent Reid immediately goes alert and checks his pistol. “We better get to a more secure location. Come with me!”

He goes for the door, but I don’t see a reason to leave.

“No, you go find your team. I’ll stay here. It’s a hidden spot, anyway.”

But Reid shakes his head with concern and takes my hand. “No, I can’t allow that. If the unsub is here he’ll go after you. You’re his type, Marrian, and I won’t let you get hurt.” 

Wow. I’m sure he’s just doing his job. Still it’s becoming incredibly difficult to ignore the growing affection for the geeky agent. And it doesn't help that normally I’m a very anti-touching person. 

He pulls out a cell phone and dials a number. “Hotch, this is Reid. What’s your location?” After a few moments he says: “Yes, I’m here with the student we interviewed in the theatre lab. We’ll meet you there. Yeah I know, we’ll be careful.” Reid seems to notice my slight reaction to his physical touch and his hold tightens. “I need you to stick close to me, understand?” 

I nod and follow him out. “This is… definitely not what I planned for a regular Friday evening, but as my mom always says I need to stay open-minded. Lead the way, Dr. Reid!”

His stern face lightens by a fraction. “Um, you can call me Spencer if you want.”

Is- Is he trying to flirt? Seriously, I wouldn’t know. Somebody tell me!

“Isn’t that less professional? I thought you FBI guys were all suits and no humor.”

He doesn’t answer and triple-checks the hallway before signaling the all-clear. We quietly make our way to the main office, and the whole time I’m trying to ignore Reid’s hand clutching mine. 

“We'll be able to-”

“Look out!” I push Spencer out of the way just as a bullet flies past my head, but I’m not too lucky with the second one. It buries itself in my left shoulder blade and the sudden force sends me crashing to the cold floor.

“Oh my God!” Reid shouts and kneels down to address my wound.

“Well hello, my pretty,” a deep sinister voice chuckles. A figure in a black hood lurks out from the corner, with a hunting rifle pointed directly at Spencer.

“I’ve gone too far this time, too far to disappear. But I’ve got one more chance, right? That’s right.” He points at me, the gun wedged pointed on his shoulder. “I’ve been watching you, girly. And I like you. Your healthy diet is most delightful, and…” He gets a twisted look with a sinister smile on his face. “Such a pretty face…”

“You leave her alone!” Reid speaks sternly. 

I turn to find him pointing his pistol at the unsub, but the man just laughs.

“My my, Dr. Reid. You’ve grown quite attached to this woman. I’m almost sad to have to kill her and end such a blooming young love.”

Love? I don’t know who this guy thinks he is, but he’s creeping me out! Still not what I planned for a regular Friday evening… 

The unsub starts to creep closer, and before I know it I’m backed against the wall with Spencer at my right.

“Don’t you touch her!” Reid shouts. “Stand back or I will shoot!”

“Oh no you won’t, Dr. Reid!” The unsub turns angry. “You won’t, or else I will skip my evening meal and blow a hole in this girl’s brain right now!”

He’s going to kill me… Eat me… Oh God. But I can’t let him hurt Spencer. His life is worth a thousand times more, and I couldn’t stand to see him get hurt.

The unsub is still focused on Spencer, so while he’s distracted I slowly inch my hand towards my skirt, almost to my concealed pistol-

Bam!

The unsub fires what seems like a warning shot and in the sudden chaos Reid fires his gun too. Reid doesn’t get shot, and instead his own bullet buries itself in the unsub’s calf. He stumbles out of sight around the corner.

“Quick! In here!” Reid pulls me into a nearby classroom and shuts the door. “Are you in pain?”

Yes! Every inch of skin in my shoulder is screaming at me and the adrenaline is starting to wear off, allowing the pain to escalate. But I need Reid to focus on the task at hand.

“I’m fine. I’m fine…” My head starts to feel dizzy and I put a hand to my shoulder, pulling it away to find it covered in blood.

“No you’re not fine. Here-” Spencer takes off his tie and does a makeshift tourniquet near my acromial region. “It won’t last long, but it’s the best I can do.” He kneels down and starts searching through his pockets. “I’m all out of bullets!”

“My… my skirt. Under my skirt…” 

He lifts the fabric up to reveal my pistol. “When did you get that?”

���Since I turned 21, but I’m too dizzy to shoot it. Take it!” Reid removes my pistol from its holster, using careful hands to show modest intentions. “Now go. Go stop him.”

“But if you don’t keep appropriate pressure on it then you could bleed out!”

“Just go! I’ll figure it out. I don’t care if I pass out, you gotta go stop him and end this.”

I’m pretty sure Reid’s now speaking through panic mode. “No you can’t die! I still need to ask you out!” Did I hear that right?

“You- what? I think I’m starting to blank out. You need to what?”

But Reid doesn’t answer. He just rubs a hand through his messy hair in frustration, while all I can do is slowly slip in and out of consciousness. When he’s decided his next move he leans down and kisses my forehead, and if it weren’t such an unusual situation I’d actually have butterflies in my stomach.

“I’ll be right back, Merrian. I promise.”

And just like that he sprints out. I don’t know how long it’s been, but soon I hear gunshots in the hall and all I can do before I pass out is pray that Spencer’s ok…

“She’s lost a lot of blood, but she’ll live.”

“Quiet an injury. She’s lucky you were with her.”

“And where is she going to?”

My mind buzzes to life and I start to become aware of my surroundings, opening my eyes to find myself in a hospital bed. My arm has an IV. More than likely they’ve given me morphine for pain control. But the biggest relief is when I see Reid talking to one of the doctors at the foot of the bed.

“Spencer… you’re ok,” I croak through a groggy voice.

He notices I’m awake and quickly rushes over to give me a gentle hug. I see he has no wounds, another relief.

“God Merrian, I’m so sorry. I was supposed to protect you-” He whispers into my hair.

“No, don’t worry about me. You did all you could, Spencer. Is the unsub taken care of?”

He nods repeatedly. “Yeah. I shot him dead right after I left, but by the time I got back you’d already blacked out-”

“Excuse me sir,” the doctor steps forward. “I’m afraid she has to be transferred now.”

I look up with wide eyes. “Transferred? Where? What do you mean?”

“The bullet nicked one of your main arteries,” the doctor explains in a calm voice. “We don’t have the proper tools or expertise to perform the surgery on your shoulder, so you are being transferred to Grand Rapids.

“Then I’m going with her,” Reid pipes up.

“I’m sorry sir, but unless you are a guardian or next of kin then you cannot accompany the patient-”

“She’s the victim of a BAU unsub. That makes this a government matter so I should be able to find an excuse to go-”

“No you can’t, Reid.”

We all turn and find Agent Hotchner, along with the rest of the BAU team, walking into the room.

“We’ve been called back to Quantico. I’m afraid you need to say your goodbyes now.”

Spencer and I exchange disappointed looks, but I figure good things must come to an end. All this unsub business is enough excitement to last me a long time, even though I am sad to see the handsome agent go.

“I’ll be fine, Spencer.” I give him a small smile. “Go do what you do best.” 

He nods, seeming to debate something in his head. “I- I’m glad I got to meet you, Merrian.”

I chuckle. “I should be the one saying that about you, the great Dr. Spencer Reid.”

Spencer returns my laughter and takes my hand again. “Feel better. I know from personal experience that recovering from a gunshot is no easy task. I’ll come visit as soon as I have free time. And… I’d like to take you out sometime, maybe someplace where you won’t get shot?”

His question is asked as if it’s a simple classroom inquiry, but it’s making my heart jump (unfortunately shown by the heartbeat monitor). I can tell Reid’s nervous just as I am, but I know it’s all part of the dating ritual.

“I’d like that.”

He cocks his head. “What part?”

“The not being shot part is definitely a perk, but I’d like to finally go on my first date. With you.”

Spencer gets excited and I can already see the wheels spinning in his head just as Agent Hotchner calls for Reid to get going.

“I- I’ll see you later, then! Hope you won’t mind me ranting about literature by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle?”

I squeeze his hand just as the paramedics start to get me ready to leave. “It’s a date, Spencer.”

Reid’s POV

The ride on the Jet is quiet, and as usual I chose to read alone in a corner. This time I’ve chosen Hallowe'en Party by Agatha Christie, most appropriate for the upcoming holiday in a few weeks.

“Hey loverboy! You gonna join us for a card game?” Morgan smirks from the table. “Or is your head too fuzzy thinking about your new friend?”

“You do know I could still beat you, right?” I ask matter-of-factly.

“Screw cards! I wanna hear all about the boy genius’ new girlfriend!” Garcia giggles.

I just shake my head and turn back to my book, ignoring their gossiping chatter. I won’t let their teasing get to me. Ever since Emily died my mind’s been in a fog, but meeting Merrian seemed to snap me back into reality. Give me something to hope for. All I know is I can’t wait to get time off so I can see her again…

[chaosgremlinmunson]

Yeah I’m gonna need possession stat ☠️

Within the darkness he felt a pull, something pulling him forward, he let out a groan and went with the tether, arriving before a young couple both looking like they'd stepped out of a 1970's Sears catalog. 

Great, he thought, I've been summoned by some dumb rich kids. They can't be more than mid twenties, what could they possibly need a demon for?

"Why have you summoned me human?" He growled, his voice a deep rich baritone but sounding as though five people were speaking at once.

The couple flinched, then the young man's face broke into a grin hands on the young woman's shoulders.

"I told you it would work Madeline! Woo, okay. So demon, I have summoned you to make a deal." Eddie laughed, his eyes sparking red.

"Well, it's not like I thought this was a dinner party, do you have something to trade for the deal?" He smirked, a feral energy around him.

"Yes." The girl spoke now, "We have something to trade. I will give you my soul for his fortune and a long healthy life together, growing old and dying of natural causes."

Eddie tapped his finger to his chin, looking from the girl to the man and back again, he reached out with his energy to sense the souls before him, and paused, eyes flashing. 

"You have a deal, however instead of your soul I will be back in 18 years, for the one whose not yet here." He cackled as the couple looked at each other, clearly confused but let the flames draw him back home.

18 years later

 Steve Harrington had finally done it, he'd graduated and now all that was left to do was find a job. Well, a better paying job. He'd been getting by living at home with a job at the ice cream parlor after school, but he needed to escape this house.

"Steven, just because you managed to graduate does not mean you can laze about." His father lectured as they drove home, "You didn't manage to get into a single college, and I won't be hiring you. You have 6 months living in the house while we still pay for groceries and the bills to save up and get out."

"Yes, sir." Steve responded looking out the window, they pulled into the driveway and made their way inside the massive house. Sitting in his father's armchair sat a man Steve had never seen, he was entranced, and barely heard when his mother screamed and father cursed.

"Hello darling, how I've waited to meet you all these years." Steve found himself standing directly in front of the man unsure how he'd moved. "You're more delectable than I'd imagined."

Shadows swirled up around Steve and before he realized what happened he was standing in a room full of black, leather and lace. The man stood behind him, hands grasping his hips.

"W…where am I?" Steve breathed, "and who are you?" 

"I, my beloved, am the one who will possess you. Love you. And keep you in all eternity." Steve breathed in a shaky breath, he had to be dreaming, he hadn't woken up for graduation yet, that was it. He was sure of it. Steve didn't get things like this, he got a big empty house, people who barely acknowledge him, and broken hearted nights crying as he held himself.

[i4sgwr]

EREN + MUTUAL PINNING

ꕤ summary: Eren overhears your conversation with Armin and takes it upon himself to clear the air about your shared feelings.

ꕤ warnings: gn!reader, college au, fluff, mutual pinning that leads to confession, Armin is your bestie so he’s here for a lot of this, very dialogue heavy (like a lot- i’m sorry)

ꕤ word count: 0.8k (oops)

. . . requested by anon!

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

“Are you ever gonna tell him?” Armin asks, placing his book back in his bag then zipping it up.

You sigh, “I’d rather not make a fool of myself, so no,” standing up and walking towards the door.

Armin hurriedly follows, throwing his backpack over his shoulder and leaving the lecture room to walk with you.

“I can guarantee he likes you, y/n, just tell him how you feel,” Armin insists.

Your face heats up at the thought of Eren having a crush on you. Honestly, the thought was incomprehensible to you — there was no way someone like him would have anything more than platonic feelings for you. Then again, Armin was friends with you both, and very rarely did his intuition steer him in the wrong direction.

“I don’t know ‘Min,” you say as the two of you leisurely walk through the courtyard, “He barely talks to me. I don’t wanna scare him off by throwing my feelings onto him.”

The blonde laughs, “Scare him off? I’m surprised he hasn’t scared you.”

You give him a perplexed look, yet wear a small grin, “Why would he scare me?”

“Because he’s intimidating! Eren looks like he’d bite if you pissed him off,” Armin exclaims, chuckling afterwards.

You laugh, shaking your head, “I think he’s hot.”

You can’t help the way your face burns as you admit that, though it’s not like Armin didn’t already know. Armin was more than aware of how you felt about his friend, that being the reason he was always talking to you about it. He was playing the middle man without either of you knowing.

“I bet he thinks the same about you,” Armin suddenly says, looking at you with a devious smirk.

“Shut up,” you murmur, “Even if he does it’s not like I’d ever know.”

“Only if you ask him,” he exclaims, nonchalantly tilting his chin in the direction of the person you hadn’t realized was walking towards you; Eren Jaeger — what a coincidence.

“Ask me what?” Eren questions, stopping in his tracks as the two of you get closer. 

He stands with his hands in his pockets, very clearly keeping his eyes on you. You feel your heartbeat quicken, suddenly nervous by his presence.

“Ah, I have to get to class actually. I’ll see you later Eren,” Armin says, giving your back a gentle pat.

You roll your eyes, knowing he didn’t have class for another 20 minutes and merely left you alone on purpose. Eren takes a few steps closer as Armin walks away, only heightening your jitteriness. 

“He said I think the same as you,” Eren states, “What did he mean by that?”

“I-I didn’t think you were listening,” you chuckle sheepishly, “Um, it was nothing.”

“You sure?” he cocks an eyebrow, “You look nervous.”

You turn your head from him, chewing your lip.

“You’re cute when you’re nervous,” he mutters, in a lower tone than before, “And I do think the same as you, by the way.”

Your stomach drops at the realization he had heard nearly your entire conversation. Embarrassed, you hesitantly make eye contact, trying to ignore the way your cheeks burn.

“H-how much did you hear?” you stutter.

“Just the last bit,” he smirks, “To be fair, I’m surprised you didn’t see me coming sooner.”

You try to replay your conversation with Armin in your head, trying to figure out how you didn’t see Eren walking towards you until it was too late. It didn’t really matter, but having him hear you compliment him unbeknownst to you made you feel sick from the humiliation.

“Armin said to meet him in the courtyard, though I didn’t think it was a ploy to get me to talk to you,” he chuckles, “Not that I’m complaining. I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”

You swear you feel faint, not knowing how to handle the situation. It’s not like you two were total strangers, you’ve talked before. However, you’ve only ever interacted in the presence of your shared friends, never have you spoken to him alone. And now he was standing here telling you you were cute.

You hum to let him know you heard him but remain silent, waiting for him to say whatever it was “he’s been wanting to talk to you” about.

“I just wanted to ask you out,” he states, “Unless you’re not into me the way I assumed you were.”

“I-I love to!” you exclaim excitedly, quickly regaining your composure.

“Perfect," he smiles, "I gotta go, but I’ll text you alright?”

Eren winks, quickly walking past you in hopes that you don’t notice the blush on his cheeks. You stand there unsure of what to do with yourself. He never even said he liked you, though there was no doubting it now since he asked you out on a date. 

taglist! [ @snake-titan @discordkittenjoestar @erwnsmith @bunnyyamor @ofallthingswhythis ]

[devils-dares]

hi bestie it's me you already know 😌 can I get fluff #7 and general #2 w/ college Matty? just like,,, late night rainy shenanigans 🥰🥰🤺🤺 I will love WHATEVER you write!!! <3 mwah

i hope you enjoyed bestie mags 🥰🥰

7. "You're an idiot." "But you love me."

2. "It's pouring rain, why are you here?"

"And then he left. Just like that, Matty.” It’s been an hour since your boyfriend, well, ex-boyfriend walked out on you. Your first instinct was to curl up in a ball and cry, but you couldn’t do that to your roommate, not again at least.

“I so want to say I told you so, but that’d be mean. Listen, he’s a total dick and didn’t deserve you at all. You could do so much better.” You can hear the exasperated tone in his voice from getting a few too many breakup calls from you.

“You always say that. Always say that they don’t deserve me. Who does, Matt? Who’ll love me unconditionally?” He starts to say something, starts to reply with a name, but he stops himself before he lets it get there.

“Listen, Matt, I’ve got midterms coming up and I’ve got to study. Talk to you tomorrow?”

“Yeah of course.” You can tell he’s upset by how he ends the phone call, but you’re too upset and burnt out to care.

The lights flicker as the storm picks up. As much as you and your roommate have duct taped blankets over your windows, you can still feel the bone-chilling breeze freely flowing through. Grabbing a thicker blanket and your laptop, you cocoon yourself in your bed as you scroll through your professor’s lecture transcripts.

Eventually growing more and more frustrated with how you’re only able to focus on your breakup, you get up to grab a drink of… well, anything. You rummage through your and your roommate’s small collection of alcohol and settle on vodka. Before you could grab a glass, however, the pounding on the door makes you damn near piss your pants.

“You heard that too, right?” Your roommate asks, and you nod.

“Pass me the knife.” You say seriously.

“You’re not seriously going to open it, are you?” Before you could respond, the pounding continues.

“What if somebody needs help?” You grab the knife and head to the door. You slide the deadbolt open and crack the door just a little, seeing a soaking wet person standing on your doorstep.

“It’s me! Can you let me in?” Matt yells over the howling of the storm.

“It’s pouring rain, why are you here?” You throw the knife to the side and unlock the door, opening it fully so your friend could enter.

“You’re soaking wet, let me get you a towel.” You hurry off to the bathroom to grab one before Matt could cause any security deposit harming damage. By the time you get back, he’s shed his shoes and raincoat, hair dripping water on the floor while he’s talking to your roommate.

“Here, dry yourself off. Why are you here?” You ask.

“You sounded pretty sad on the phone, wanted to come make sure you were okay.” He dries himself off, his coat having taken the brunt of it, and then goes to sit in on your bed.

“I’m fine! I was just studying.”

“They’re lying,” your roommate retorts. “they were just about to break out the vodka before you showed up.”

“You little shit!” You throw a pillow at them.

“Anyways, I gotta go. Gonna have mind-blowing sex with my non-dickish girlfriend while you kids talk out your feelings.” Grabbing their coat, they flip you off and then walk out the door.

“So-”

“Who do I deserve, Matt? You’ve been saying that for years, starting to think it’s just a ploy to make me suck up my feelings.”

“You deserve the world. You deserve everything you’ve ever dreamt of having, and there’s not a single person on this earth who can give that to you.”

“So what, I’m going to be lonely? You have a real shitty sense of comfort, Matthew. Just say it, I’m not capable of being loved.”

“If that’s true, why am I here?”

“Y-you? No way. Not in a million years would someone like you love me.”

“Tell me one good reason why.”

“Because you’re the sweetest person! You go out of your way to help people, and you never complain. You’re strong and courageous and-”

“So what you’re telling me is that I’m all of these things and you don’t deserve me? Believe it, sweetheart. You’re absolutely capable of being loved, and you’re looking at someone who does, well, at least I hope you’re looking at me.” Matt intertwines his fingers with yours. You laugh, feeling tears rolling down your cheeks that you didn’t even know were forming.

“You’re in love with me, Matt. You love me.” You grin.

“I can’t believe it took you this long to figure it out. You’re an idiot.” He smiles, letting go of your hands to wipe the tears from your face.

“But you love me.”

“Yeah, I do.” You grip his shirt and pull him close, lips smashing together. One of his hands stays holding your face and the other slips down to hold your waist.

The two of you break away, out of breath, but still grinning.

“C’mere.” Matt pulls you into his lap.

“Say it again.” You say.

“Hm?”

“Say it.”

“I love you. I love you so much and I’d do anything to prove it to you over and over again.” His thumb runs across your bottom lip.

“Kiss me?” You ask.

“I would kiss you forever if I could.” He says before he leans in to capture your lips in another passionate haze.

[katscki]

just watched a movie were this boy jumped into the end of the pool and he cant swim and made the life guard (whos a girl) jump in and save him and give him mouth to mouth. he has my respect and i now knw what to do when i go to the pool or at boxing <3

omg i was gonna do a fic like this a while back and then i forgot about it!!!! YOU SMART LITTLE THING YOU SMOOCH SMOOCH SMOOCH

High Tides

barely edited sorry and the name kinda doesn’t fit bc it isn’t at a beach but i liked it so i’m keeping it 😤‼️

lifeguard!bakugou x fem!reader

wc: 797

You had thought that coming to the new town pool would be a total drag this summer, but how can you not go back when he’s there.

masterlist

You had come here out of sheer boredom. Of course, this wasn’t your first place to spend your summer vacation from college, but all your friends were either still at school or on trips far away from home. Hanging out with your parents wasn’t an option even if you had wanted it to be because they worked day and night.

You hadn't intended on swimming only coming to tan so you lay out your towel on one of the lounging swim chairs rather than the itchy grass counterpart. But before you yourself could lay down with it, a blonde tuff of hair caught your eye. The strange hairdo piqued your interest enough to let your eyes wander further down to see the tall muscular body attached. You continued to ogle him whiles he was turned away only snapping him out of your gaze when he turned to you.

You were never one for showy bikinis, but you decided to wear one today to cover the most ground when you sunbathed, and you have never been so happy with a decision in your entire life.

Bakugou turns back around to Kirishima to resume their conversation, “Her? Yeah, she’s hot so what? Probably wasn’t looking at me anyways, shitty hair.” He said gruffly.

“Are you KIDDING ME?! She was practically undressing you with her eyes man, cut the nonchalant tough boy act, you know you think she's pretty. I mean commmee onnn if I were you, I would be all over that, not stop being a little pissboy and get her number!” Kirishimas enthusiastic tone didn’t do much to calm his nerves.

“Maybe later, my breaks almost over.” He mumbles before returning to his stand.

About twenty minutes ago you had decided to switch to lying on your back to tan your front but the sun beating down on you was becoming more and more noticeable by the second, practically sweating bullets.

Finally, the heat was too much for you to ignore, so maybe a dip in the pool wouldn’t be so bad. Making your way over to the edge of the pool you sat first then slowly slipped in. Trying to look good just in case there were lingering eyes from a certain someone. You swam out a bit just enjoying the coolness of the water until some stupid kid jumped in without even looking in front of him kicking you clear in the stomach when he came in.

You would feel embarrassed if it weren't for the growing feeling of being winded taking over. The lack of air making it to your lungs as you struggled to breathe, making it increasingly difficult to keep yourself up, ultimately letting you pass out in the water.

Bakugou saw the entire thing making a move to go scream at lecture the kid for what he did before he noticed you laying limp in the water. He blew his whistle yelling for everyone to get out of the water when he dove in and carried your smaller than his, seemingly lifeless form out of the water.

When you had woken up from lack of consciousness, you saw him kneeling above you, his face so close to yours, like he was going to perform mouth to mouth one more time. Everyone was quiet except one person. You look over to your side to see the red-haired lifeguard lecturing the child about looking before they jump. You would have kept your gaze there due to tiredness if it weren't for bakugou gently moving your head back to face him.

“You alright? Shit... I mean of course you're not, you almost just drowned-” He silently scolds himself for his awkwardness. But you paid no mind to his stumbling words, only the low baritone of his raspy voice, and the feel of his hand on your face.

He continued to look down with furrowed brows, confliction visible in his features, it’s only when you speak with the prettiest voice he’s ever heard does he forget about it. “Yea I'm okay. Thanks to you at least.” You smile at him and in the background hear everyone resuming their aquatic activities now that you're awake. You sit up to make your throbbing head feel better when he speaks again, “s my job. Any of us woulda done it, plus I probably would have gotten sued if I didn’t.” He joked

“Well don’t I feel special,” You giggle. “My um my name’s Y/N by the way.”

“You can call me Katsuki,” He leans down to whisper in your ear so no wandering ears can listen, “And I'm sorry, maybe I can take you out for dinner, somewhere real nice, make you feel special then.”

You turn your head to lock eyes with him again, “Yeah. That sounds nice.”

TAGS 🏷:

@trafalgar-lau @mybabekatsuki @loving-katsuki @ariavaana

[hashtagonlyingotham]

So, to clarify, I'm the Joker's driver, currently. Dunno how long that's gonna last, but it's working out good so far for several reasons. 1. Unrecognizable vehicle. 2. Better driver than both Joker and Harley (c'mon they're both gay. Of course neither of them can drive). 3. It benefits a lot of regular ass people because the number of joker related car accidents since I started working for him have gone way down. (I wonder why)

Anyway. So, I'm picking up neon paint and more glitter than I can carry at the craft store,(who knew they'd sell me 2 full buckets of glitter) cause the clown man said so.

I just got the paint and glitter and went to stand in line to buy it. Because while my employer may break the law regularly. I am a college student with aspirations and dont need a criminal record.

I get in line and this woman who was standing nowhere near the line starts screaming at me for cutting in front of her. Her boyfriend joins in and starts screaming at me too! I have really bad anxiety in certain situations, and this one really hiked it up. It gets worse. While they're yelling at me, I get a call! From the damn clown expecting his paint and glitter.

I take the call as they're still yelling at me and what Joker gets from his side of the line is Karen and her boyfriend lecturing me at the top of their lungs to now "be respectful when adults are talking to me." And "how rude to get on my phone like that"

At this point I am crying and just barely holding it together enough to say "I got the paint and glitter I'm just in line-"

An he says that hes around the corner and about to go in to the store. Hes guessing that were gonna need more glitter than what my noodle arms can carry.(his words, not mine) but tells me to put him on speaker.

....

Well I put him on speaker.

Half the hobby lobby heard this clown call the two morons behind me in line "cotton eye joe rejects" and give them 46 different dismemberment threats. They went quiet.

(I later found out that all this glitter was going to be poured into Bruce Wayne's car. Sorry mr wayne.)

So I got the glitter and paint and went to go wait for Joker in the car. Since hes already here and getting more glitter, I figured that's what would make stuff easier.

So like. 20 minutes later. I'm cooled down, everything's chill,not crying anymore, an Joker gets in the car with another 2 buckets of glitter and hes awfully smug. I'm kinda???? Because that can never mean anything good. I drive over to his hideout an go home

Long story short, the people who yelled at me in the craft store got first glue, then a full bucket of glitter dumped on them.

A week later they were identified by the good as victims of an arson case.

... I got 2 pizzas and a giant frog plush sent to my dorm that same week, as well as a note in Harley's handwriting giving me anti anxiety tips.

#onlyingotham #jokersbadbutnotthatbad #sorryaboutyourcarmrwayne #alsoiwouldcommentonwhatthefuckjokerwaswearingthatdaybut #itsalottotakein #juicyshorts???? #croptopthatsaidihavewebbedfeetinrainbowlettering #andneonthighhighs #thismanisadisaster

[silver-tongued-bby]

Discretion

Pairing: Dom!CEO!Loki x Reader

Summary: After dropping out of grad school and moving back home you expected very little of your summer. That is until you realise your neighbour, Mr. Laufeyson, has other plans. Set in the mid 90s!

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!! This is a Dom!Loki fic - though it's not super bd/sm heavy, it explores themes of voyeurism, dub!con spanking, humiliation and degradation. Sexual acts are described including vaginal fingering, dirty talk, oral sex (f receiving) and sexual intercourse (f/m). Smoking is also described. Please read at your own discretion (hehe see what I did there?).

Words: 5,026

Author's Note: I'm excited to say that this is my first ever submission for a challenge! Specifically it's for @boxofbonesfic's Hot Girl Summer Challenge.

I chose prompt 12 (Home for the Summer) and a slightly edited version of quote 17 ("If I have to tell you again to take that off, you’re not gonna like me sweetheart darling.") then for kinks I chose voyeurism/exhibitionism and degradation though there's a sprinkling of praise kink in there too.

Not sure why when I think of summer I think of mid 90s summers but here we are. This kinda went places I didn't expect, nonetheless I hope you enjoy!

...

God you were bored.

Stretching out on the lounge chair you sighed, letting your shoulders droop with the long exhale.

“Oh honey, you can’t keep sitting out here in the sun.” Your eyes rolled behind your dark sunglasses, turning towards your stepmother as she came down the stairs from the deck of the house.

“It’ll give you wrinkles dear,” she was standing beside you now, hands on her hips as she stared down at you. She was wearing that ridiculous hat again- the one with the brim as wide as she was tall.

“Carla, darling, we can’t all hide away from life in hopes to look as good as you do.” You lazily gazed at her, sitting up to find your pack of cigarettes on the side table. Taking one out you brought it to your mouth and lit it with your gold plated zippo. You took a long inhale before exhaling right in her face, “when I tell people you’re 53 they can hardly believe it.” Her eyes widened- you’d found her drivers license months ago and held the knowledge of her true age over her since then. You continued, ”my compliments to your doctors. Oh and Botox, kudos to Botox.”

Her little hands formed fists, fake nails pressing tiny neon-pink crescents into her palm.

You laughed, lounging back in the chair as you leisurely took drags off your cigarette. Smiling to yourself as you counted- three, two, one, before Carla shrieked and turned.

“Arthur! Arthur!” She screeched, running back up the stairs to tell your father.

You were a little less bored now, but making Carla’s face turn red could only give you so much satisfaction. You knew your father could care less, they were both about to leave for the Côte D’Azur tomorrow for the rest of the summer, leaving you here alone to “consider the consequences of your actions.” Or however your father had put you dropping out of school after one year of graduate studies in Classics.

He couldn’t help himself from belittling your degree while you were studying, then once you’d decided it wasn’t for you his lectures changed to be about “never giving up” and “seeing something through.” You both knew he simply didn’t want you around- he just couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud.

“Now those will definitely give you wrinkles,” you heard a smooth, silky voice coming from behind you that made your heart race. Smiling, you swung your legs over the side of your chair, taking off your sunglasses and snuffing out your cigarette.

“Mr. Laufeyson,” you started, eyeing the lithe figure as he emerged from the shadows. He held his hands in his pockets, his crisp black trousers fit perfectly to his frame. The sleeves of his black dress shirt were rolled up to his elbows, exposing the pale skin of his toned forearms. You were well aware of the small scraps of white fabric covering your body, and you enjoyed watching his eyes trace over your skin. You’d lusted after him ever since your father had moved here during your first year of college. You’d met him at one of Carla’s Christmas parties- she invited everyone from the gated community over, including your neighbour, Loki Laufeyson.

“I’m so sorry if my stepmother’s incessant shrieking ruined your afternoon,” you grimaced, taking a sip of the ice cold vodka soda beside you. “Is there anything I can do to remedy the situation?” you asked, your eyes innocently meeting his.

He chuckled. “Oh I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve already thought of something,” he said under his breath loud enough for you to just make out. He strolled towards you and took a seat on the lounge chair beside yours. “I’m actually here to see your Father. He’s asked me to check in on things here while him and Carla are away.”

You rolled your eyes- of course he did. You caught Mr. Laufeyson staring at you as you did that, his expression darkening slightly and his eyebrow raising before he continued. “I am surprised to see you here- last I’d heard you were studying in Europe. Graduate studies in Classics, right?”

“Yeah. It didn’t exactly pan out.” You looked down, cursing yourself for feeling your face grow hot. The last thing you needed was your gorgeous neighbour feeling sorry for you.

“Laufeyson you bastard, you’re late!” Your Father was coming down the stairs, jovial with his greeting.

Loki got up from his seat to meet your father. “Arthur,” he said, shaking his hand. “My apologies, I got held up at the office. It’s been insanity since the new acquisition.”

You tuned out the rest of the business jargon and settled back into your seat, facing the other way. You put your sunglasses back on, wincing once your heard Carla’s shrill voice coming from above.

“Is that Loki Laufeyson? Oh it’s been ages!” she gushed.

“I suppose it has.” You could tell she’d pulled him in for a hug and a kiss on either cheek. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself at the clear discomfort in his voice.

“So I can trust you to keep an eye on the place?” your father chimed in.

“Certainly, although it seems your daughter is perfectly capable of doing so herself.” Mr. Laufeyson rightfully pointed out. You raised an eyebrow, wishing you could see the expression on your dear dad’s face from your position. Mr. Laufeyson was probably the only person in this community that could and would tell your Father that- his annual appearance in Forbes certainly cemented the position.

“You never know with kids, Laufeyson. No matter how old they get you can’t trust them to carry through with something. Just wait until you have one of your own- then you’ll know what I’m talking about." He laughed loudly. You scoffed. Fucking asshole.

“I see. I’ll keep an eye out then.” Mr. Laufeyson said cooly.

“Right well feel free to pop by anytime, we leave tomorrow morning. Here’s the number of my cellular telephone- I always have it on me you know.” Your father was obsessed with his clunky mass of plastic- he brought it everywhere he went, mostly to brag about it to strangers or talk obnoxiously on it to avoid conversations with you or Carla.

“He really does. Even in the bedroom!” Carla giggled, causing you to shudder in disgust.

“Of course, well I should be on my way.” He stepped back over to you. “I suppose I’ll be seeing you around. Here’s my information,” he placed a thick, black and white business card onto the small table beside you. “In case of emergency.”

You pulled your sunglasses down your nose and slid your eyes up his body, biting your lip as you met his stare. “I’ll be sure to remember. See you around, Mr. Laufeyson.”

He considered you for a moment and you thought he was about to say something else before he nodded and turned, heading for the gate.

You settled back in your seat and nestled the headphones of your discman over your ears. You pressed the play button, the beat of Mariah Carey’s “Fantasy” drowning out whatever Carla and your father were arguing about once their guest had left.

...

It was much later that evening that you finally slipped from your room to find some dinner. The house was dark- you knew your father and Carla had an early flight. Grabbing a wrapped plate from the fridge that the housekeeper had left you you headed to the back deck to eat. You kept the lights off as you watched the dim foamy white of the ocean’s waves hitting the rocks below, finding peace in the sound.

Finishing your meal you were about to head inside when you saw a light come on out of the corner of your eye. From where you were sitting you could see into a room on the top floor of Mr. Laufeyson’s house. Interesting- you’d never seen into this room before, the windows that faced your father’s house were usually shuttered. You laid back and lit a cigarette, choking on the inhale when you saw Mr. Laufeyson emerge, shirtless, his eyes dark and hungry. He was pulling a woman behind him, a blonde, her shirt unbuttoned to expose a lacy red bra. Once he stood at the edge of the bed he turned around to kiss her, his hands moving to the clasp of her bra. Undoing it, he pulled away to slide it down her arms before turning her around and unzipping her skirt, leaving her in just a high waisted red lace thong.

Your heart was hammering in your chest. You were transfixed by the scene unfolding in front of you. He flung her on the bed- from your position you could see it all as if it were happening in a room adjacent to yours. Climbing over her he dipped his head to capture her lips once more as he ground against her. Your legs clenched together as you continued to smoke your cigarette, the combined effect of the nicotine and the scene in front of you making your head spin.

His hand trailed down to the red lace covering her heat as he continued to kiss and grind against her. Slipping his fingers in you found you were doing the same to yourself, feeling the hot wet of your arousal. He had pulled away from her now, watching her face intently as her back arched up off of the mattress, her hands clutching his toned arms. He was saying something to her, his eyes going from her face to her heaving breasts as he continued to work his hand inside of her. A flush was blooming on her chest, her mouth open and her eyebrows drawn together. You were moving your hand in time with his, your arousal coating your fingers. His movements became faster as he continued to speak to her, smiling menacingly before her back arched fully off the bed, her hands grasping at him. Withdrawing from the dampened red lace his fingers glistened in the light, wet from her release.

He easily picked her up off the bed, carrying her to the window sill. He roughly pulled her panties down before he undid his trousers then lined himself up at her entrance. He pressed into her, her back flat against the glass and his face visible beside the back of her head, his eyes closed. You imagined how it’d feel, the cool glass against your back, his warm hand firmly gripping your thigh, his strong arms holding your legs open as he fucked you. He began to move inside of her then his eyes opened, staring straight at you in the darkness. Your heart beat faster as you felt yourself blush- surely he couldn’t see you out here, you were shrouded in the dark. You could barely see the outline of your hand as you brought it to your face for another puff. You froze- the cigarette.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you hissed, quickly removing your hand from its position and shakily putting out the cigarette on your dinner plate. Sliding your chair out quietly you chanced one last look towards the window- he was smirking in your direction as he continued to move against the blonde. Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest as you backed away towards the porch door. You could swear his eyes didn’t leave you once and it sent shudders through you. You made your way back to your room and lay awake for hours, each time you closed your eyes you saw his piercing blue-green stare and filthy smirk.

You must have drifted off at some point since you eventually awoke to silence- an anomaly. You’d usually wake to Carla’s screeching laugh as she spoke on the phone to her friends, or she’d send the housekeeper Marie to wake you. You checked the clock beside you- 9AM. Carla and your father were long gone by now.

You smiled at that, stretching lazily before cranking the radio and dancing around your room as you got ready, the sunlight beaming in through your window. Making your way to the main kitchen you froze, last night coming back to you. The way Mr. Laufeyson had looked out at you as if he were expecting you to be there. Did he leave the blinds open on purpose? You shook your head, no way he’d be that forward. Sure he flirted with you every now and then, but nothing beyond that. You pushed the thought from your mind for the rest of the day.

...

A week passed quickly, you spent a lot of time with your friends, going shopping, to the beach, or local restaurants. You didn’t spend much time around the house so you hadn’t seen Mr. Laufeyson since the “incident”. On Friday you met up with some friends midday and got a ride to one of their parents’ beach houses. You spent the day there, drinking and laughing as you enjoyed the sun. Your friends dropped you back off at your place at around 7pm, you were pleasantly buzzed but looking forward to a quiet night in.

It was so hot outside you decided to take a dip in the pool. Cranking the radio in the backyard you decided to skinny dip- no one was home anyways. You sighed as your heated skin met the water, cooling instantly. You did a few laps before lazily swimming a backstroke and humming the music on the radio when you saw something coming towards you out of the corner of your eye. Standing upright you saw Mr. Laufeyson walking towards you from the door to the backyard, a smirk playing at his lips. Your heart started beating quickly as you realised the position you were in, remembering his hungry stare from last week. You swam over to the side of the pool to meet him.

“Hi,” he smiled, looking down at you.

You bit your lip and innocently looked up at him. “Hello, Mr. Laufeyson.”

“I’m sorry to intrude.”

“No worries. Is there anything I can do for you, Mr. Laufeyson?” you asked, noticing his eyes taking in your body under the water. He definitely knew you were naked. Your thighs clenched together at the thought.

“I was coming to see you about something that happened last week that had me… concerned. I thought I saw someone out on the balcony, late at night. Was that you?”

You felt your cheeks grow hot, your heartbeat picking up to a mile a minute. “What day was this?”

“Last week Friday.” His face was serious as he strolled over to a pool chair, pulling it closer to the side and taking a seat.

“I’m not sure. I don’t think anyone was out there then.” The words came out a lot quicker than you’d meant. You were usually pretty good at lying but something in his voice made you want to tell him the truth, to please him.

He tsked. “I’ve seen you lie better than that. Try again darling.” He sounded bored as he reached for your pack of cigarettes on the side table. He raised an eyebrow in question as he drew out a cigarette. You nodded, nervously biting your lip as he lit it and crossed his legs, leisurely smoking while he stared you down.

“No words, little one?” he teased, smirking down at you. “Did you at least enjoy the show?”

You huffed- this was humiliating. How dare he? You found anger quickly overtaking your initial shock and embarrassment as you made your way to the pool stairs and got out. You raised an eyebrow at him and smiled when the smirk slid off his face at the sight of your naked, wet body. Two can play this game. Walking over to him you grabbed a towel off the chair and wrapped it around yourself.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to imply here,” you grabbed the cigarette from between his long, muscular fingers and took a long drag. “But I didn’t see you last Friday night. And I definitely didn’t see you fucking that blonde-” your eyes widened at your own confession.

He stood to his full height and stepped closer to you, looking down at you once more. You backed up a step, feeling the lounge chair behind you.

“Drop the towel,” he growled, the hungry look in his eyes fully directed at you this time.

“Listen-“ you started to explain yourself.

“Drop. The. Towel.” He enunciated each word with his crisp accent and perfect voice.

“I knew it- I knew you wanted to fuck me.” You smirked at him triumphantly as you took another drag.

“If I have to tell you again to take that off, you’re not gonna like me darling,” he threatened, stepping closer.

“Oh really?” You laughed, taunting him. “And what are you going to do, Mr. Laufeyson?” You blinked innocently at him, enjoying the way the muscles in his jaw clenched.

Suddenly he grabbed your jaw, firmly but not painfully as he brought his face inches from yours, your eyes locked.

“You fucking brat.” He roughly pulled the towel down, exposing your body to the warm air. He pinched the cigarette from your fingers, extinguishing it under his shoe on the concrete. “I’m going to have to teach you some manners, aren’t I?”

Before you could answer he spun you both around and sat on the lounge chair then pulled you over his lap, angling you so your top half rested on the chair, your hips over his. One hand firmly held your lower back in place, the other smoothed over the skin of your ass and you squirmed. His hand came down to spank you, hard. “First lesson- don’t fucking move until I tell you to.” You whined, your face burning.

His hand came down again in the same spot, causing you to hiss and grip the plastic of the chair in one hand and his thigh in the other. “Second lesson- always answer me.”

You were humiliated but you found yourself growing even more wet with each spank. First there was the pain, then a wave of pleasure that intensified when he smoothed his hand over the skin he’d hit.

He gave you another slap, “what did I just say?” He growled, his hand roughly gripping the skin this time.

“T-to always answer you.” Your voice was small as you stuttered, overwhelmed by the way he was making you feel.

“Good girl.” You'd felt a tiny swell of pride at that. “I’m going to spank you three more times. Count them for me.”

“Okay,” you nodded, worried if you didn’t answer he’d add more to the list. His hand came down on your other cheek, hard and fast.

“One,” you counted, taking a deep breath. Before you could forcibly relax your tense muscles his hand had struck your cheek once more, causing you to hiss.

Your finger tips were pressing into his thigh as you let out a breath, the sharp pain receding. “Two,” you licked your lips and tensed in anticipation of the third and final slap.

After a few seconds you relaxed then turned to catch his eye- he was darkly observing you with his jaw clenched. Suddenly he hit the skin once more, this time the hardest, causing you to cry out.

You composed yourself with a quick breath. “Three.”

“Well done, darling.” He was gently running over the sore skin with his large hands. You could feel his erection under you.

“I wish you could see how lovely you looked on my lap, taking your spanking so well.” He dipped his hand between your legs. You sucked in a breath when you felt his fingers brush along your wet slit causing you to writhe on his lap.

“My poor, little thing. You’re dripping,” his voice was pure sin as he brought his glistening fingers up to your face.

He shifted, his strong grip helping you off his lap so you stood before him on shaky legs. You bit your lip, face growing hot as suddenly became fascinated with your fingers, twisting them painfully.

He stood then, and brought his finger under your chin to guide your eyes to his. He wore a satisfied expression, a slight grin at his lips as he took in your naked form.

“Do you think you’ve learnt your lesson darling?” He asked, his eyes mocking yours.

You quickly nodded, feeling fully exposed in front of his fully clothed form.

He licked his lips. “Do you want to go upstairs so I can fuck you?”

Your cheeks burnt as you nodded quickly again.

“Answer me darling,” he dropped his hand from your chin.

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson.”

A slow, filthy grin spread across his face. “Lead the way,” he motioned towards the stairs.

You bent to reach for your towel on the ground. “Ah, ah, no need for that darling.” His words stopped you. You shivered as you stood back up, another wave of heat pulsing through your core.

You tentatively walked up the steep stairs and he followed closely behind. You could feel his gaze on you with each step.

Once up on the patio you looked back at him, his eyes dark with hunger. You gave him a shy smile before leading him inside. You stopped- should you bring him to your bedroom?

Before you could finish your thought he slid up behind you, his hands coming to grip your waist. “Where shall I take you, darling?” He whispered in your ear, his breath making you shiver.

He let go of your waist to circle you, stopping before you. “Do you want me to ruin you on that god awful couch?” He looked over his shoulder to the gaudy floral couch Carla had ordered special from Italy. She wouldn’t let anyone who wasn’t company sit on it in fear of stains.

You smiled at the idea of ruining the couch with Mr. Laufeyson, knowing Carla would lose her mind- even more so if she found out how it got there. “Yes please.”

He pulled you towards it then gently guided you to sit at the edge of it, angling you so you were in one corner. His hands splayed over the skin of your legs, gently pushing them apart. The feeling of the cool air of the house on your slit gave you goosebumps.

He kept his eyes locked with yours as he knelt between your legs before he turned to press a kiss to your thigh close to your knee. He then bit the skin there, earning a sharp inhale from you before he soothed it with his warm tongue.

“Tell me, darling. Did you touch yourself? Did you play with yourself as you watched me?” His velvety voice sent an involuntary shudder through you, his eyes capturing yours.

He nipped at your thigh with his teeth, marring the skin. You yelped then swallowed. “Yes! Yes, I did.”

“Good girl.” He moved to repeat his actions further up the inside of your thigh while he gently ran his fingers up and down your other thigh.

You were trembling while you watched him, each bite a little harder than the last as he got closer to your wet core. His eyes met yours once more then he blew a stream of cold air over your slit, causing you to gasp sharply. He smirked before letting his lips barely graze over your clit, your hips moving slightly before he brought his arm down over them to hold you in place.

He ever so gently pressed a kiss to your clit before gently running his tongue over the sensitive flesh, pulling a moan from you. You could feel your wetness dripping down onto the couch below as he continued to delicately tease you.

“You taste divine, darling. Better than I’d imagined.” You whined at his words- the idea of him alone, picturing what your cunt tasted like brought you to the edge of an orgasm.

He smiled wickedly up at you. “So close already? Poor thing.” Bringing one long finger to your slit he gathered some wetness before pushing it fully within you, forcing a loud moan through your lips.

“It’s okay darling, let go. Give into me. I promise it’ll make you feel so much better,” he hummed against your clit before tenderly sucking on it. He bent his finger within you, hitting something deep that made you cry out. You quickly came, your release squirting around his finger and wetting the couch below.

He kept up his movements as you rode out your high. Once your breath returned to you he pulled away and removed his finger, licking his lips as he wiped your release off his chin.

“Third lesson- good girls always get to cum.” He winked at you with a grin before standing.

He leaned over you, caging you in on the couch before capturing your lips with his. You hummed at the taste of yourself on him, his tongue gliding against yours.

He straightened back up then pulled you up off the couch and guided you to face the other way. He led you so your knees were on the couch, your arms resting against the back of the upholstery. You heard the sound of a zipper before feeling the tip of his hard length slide against your folds. You instinctively arched your back at the feeling, pressing yourself up against him, causing him to groan.

“Such a greedy little brat,” he said, smoothing his hands over the skin of your ass. “You want me to fuck that pretty little cunt, hm?”

“Yes- yes please, Mr. Laufeyson. Please fuck me,” you begged, rubbing yourself on him once more.

With that he thrust into you, holding himself still once he was fully seated within you, giving you a chance to adjust. You’d gasped at the sensation- he was clearly well-endowed and you were thankful he gave you a moment. Willing your muscles to relax you looked back at him before grinding your hips against his.

His eyes were dark with lust, his jaw clenched in a way that made you involuntarily squeeze him as he started to move within you. You were panting as he set a pace, the angle of his thrusts hitting the same spot he’d found quickly before.

You’d turned back around and folded your forearms over the back of the couch, arching yourself against him even more. He growled and picked up his pace, his hand firmly gripping your hip. The angle had you moaning desperately, the feeling of him so deep within you making your fingers and toes numb.

“That’s it darling, take my cock within your needy little cunt. Fuck- I’ve wanted to ruin this tight little pussy for so long. I’ve wanted you for so long,” he rasped out between thrusts and your mind went blank, all you could respond with were desperate moans.

He stopped abruptly and pulled you up before sitting himself on the couch and pulling you over his lap so you were straddling him. He’d unbuttoned his shirt and your mouth went dry at the sight of the musculature under his pale skin. You slid your fingers under the fabric, gripping his firm shoulders as he positioned himself under you.

You moved your hips in a circle over him, enjoying the feel of the very tip of him swirling within you.

“You little tease,” he grinned darkly, running a hand through his hair. “Ride me, darling. Show me what you can do.”

Your cunt clenched at his words and his wicked smirk spread. You took the opportunity to bring yourself down to grind against him, wiping the smug look off his face.

You quickly set a pace as you rode him, his hands on your ass guiding your movements. You were panting as you continued your movements, the angle bringing you close to your finish.

“Are you going to cum, darling?” His voice vibrated through you, and you nodded.

“Yes- fuck, Mr. Laufeyson. You feel so good-“ he continued to guide your movements, moving his head closer to your breast. He brought his mouth around one of your nipples, gently sucking at the nub. You arched into him, moaning at the sensation.

His tongue ran against your skin in his mouth, bringing another moan from you before he sharply bit down on your nipple, pushing you over the edge into another orgasm. You moaned his name over and over as you rode out your high, your nails digging into the skin of his shoulder. As you came back to yourself you felt him twitch within you, filling you as he reached his own finish.

You watched him as he came, mesmerised with his blissful expression, his long eyelashes touching defined cheekbones. His eyes fluttered back open and he gave you a smirk- god help you he was fucking gorgeous.

He gave you a chaste kiss before helping you up, the combined fluids from your finish trickling down your thigh. You were happy to see some hit the couch as you moved off him.

You strolled to the bathroom to clean yourself up and throw on a t-shirt and panties, passing a damp cloth to him once you returned. You pulled a cigarette from the pack you had on the kitchen counter, then headed to the balcony as you lit it up.

You were leaning on the balcony, watching the now dark waves when he joined you. You smiled at him, offering him your cigarette. He took a long drag as you leant on the balcony’s edge.

“So,” you trailed off, not sure what to say.

“That was fun,” he exhaled then smiled at you, his expression mischievous.

“Yeah,” you agreed, relief filling your chest. “I’d love to do it again.”

“Of course darling, we have all summer.” He came behind you, pulling you against his chest as he ducked his head so his lips were beside your ear. ”And you have quite a bit to learn.”

End Notes: Want to read more Loki fics of mine? My masterlist is here.

[writer-in-theory]

only a minor kidnapping (spencer reid x reader)

Summary: Reader needs a fiancé to spend the holidays with her family. Luckily, the cute stranger at the coffee shop seems gullible enough to lure to their winter cabin.

Category: Fluff, bits of angst in there

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content Warnings: Christmas, Lowkey kidnapping, Insecurity, Family issues (ie, living up to their expectations, some judgment)

Word Count: 9.3k

A/N: This is very loosely based on the movie Holiday in Handcuffs, which is so problematic and hilarious if you’ve never seen it I highly recommend it. I did end up cutting quite a few scenes from this because it was very long, so I might end up posting them separately later we’ll see. Also, I just want to say thanks to @imagining-in-the-margins because this fic would've never gotten written without all of her amazing plotting and motivation 💜

Masterlist

Holiday Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Life doesn’t always go the way you expect it, but sometimes it does exactly that.

You can’t even be surprised when the day you’re meant to leave for vacation comes around and you’re still woefully single. Any other time of year, and you’d cheer at the blissful lack of romantic responsibility. It was the day after Christmas, however, and single people all over the world would understand your frustration at your lacking romantic endeavors.

“You could just not go,” Chelsea suggests, not even looking at you as she got to work making the next coffee on the list of orders. The shop was surprisingly busy for the day after Christmas—still full of students studying who-knows-what and irritating couples fake laughing at their partners’ jokes.

“Seriously? My mother would drag me by my hair all the way to Vermont if I told her I wasn’t coming.” Unfortunately, you weren’t one hundred percent certain it was an exaggeration. “We all drop everything and spend a week together at this cabin, Chels. I have to go.”

“Will it really be that bad without a date? You’ve gone alone every other time.”

“Yeah, but I’m officially closer to thirty than I am twenty. They already call me their late-bloomer, I don’t want to give them any more ammo.”

“It can’t be that bad,” your best friend and coworker laughed, waving her hand to alert you to the customer who was just beginning to walk into the shop.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen. We’re gonna spend the whole first night talking about how amazing Nick is, and the rest of the week will be spent reliving my Dad’s glory days on Quantum Oasis.”

“Your dad was on that show?” The new voice caused you to turn your head, and almost immediately a smile was pulling on your face. Dr. Spencer Reid was standing in front of you, cheeks still tinged pink from the cold and hands stuck deep in his coat pockets. The man came into the shop nearly every day—at first only on his workdays, but now showing up on his days off to read at his favorite table in the corner. At first, he’d gotten your attention because he always tipped the baristas well, and now your brief conversations were enough to make your days.

“Kind of. He was the screenwriter,” you admitted, already punching in his order. For weeks he hadn’t had to say it aloud, the creature of habit he was.

That seemed to be the exact right thing to say. Spencer’s eyes widened comically, lips parting in the ghost of a shocked smile. “Your dad is Archie L/N? No way! I was supposed to meet him in college but the guest lecture got canceled last second.”

Looking back, there was no explanation for what came from your mouth next. One second you were thinking about how Spencer Reid couldn’t get any more perfect, and then your mind was considering what it would be like to bring a guy like him home to rub in your parents’ faces. Then, suddenly you were giving him a conspiratorial look and asking, “Would you want to meet him?”

“I-I mean, is he here?” Spencer asked, nervously glancing around the coffee shop but clearly not finding the other man.

“Well, no. This time of year he’s at our family’s old cabin in Vermont,” you explained, heart beginning to race at the beginnings of disappointment on Spencer’s face, “but, he’s turned that cabin into a private museum of sorts, for the show. It’s only open to family friends and celebrities and stuff, but I bet he’d make an exception if I brought you.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I’m heading up there today after I get off work in a couple hours. You’re totally welcome to ride along. I’ll be staying for a week, so if you want to go I’d pack for that long.”

“I’d love to go,” Spencer told you.

“Really?” A lightness filled your chest, even as Chelsea was standing there giving you an incredulous look. “Then I’ll meet you here in a couple hours? Coffee’s on me today.”

And as Spencer soon left, Chelsea immediately began laughing. “Oh girl, you’re so fucked.”

“What do you mean?”

It couldn’t be that bad. Sure, Spencer would eventually find out that the cabin wasn’t exactly a museum, and eventually you’d have to broach the topic of pretending to be your partner for a week, but surely he’d understand once you explained?

“You’re about to drag that man out into the middle of the woods for a week with your family. Does that sound fun to you?”

And well, no, not when she put it that way. “Well, we actually do have some really cool props leftover from the show.”

“Yeah, that’ll make up for kidnapping him.”

“It’s not kidnapping! He’s getting in the car willingly.”

“Whatever you say, Y/N. Good luck this week.”

Sure enough, after your shift was over, Spencer was dutifully waiting just outside the shop with his typical brown bag and a duffel. Though you hadn’t spent much prolonged time with the man before, it was an enjoyable road trip. The two of you talked through most of the eight hours, discussing anything from the show your dad had written to the best way to eat an orange—”No, Spencer, cutting it into wedges is so much work!”

Eventually, the car turned off the highway, and the scene melted into a familiar one that filled you with both apprehension and nostalgia. There was already a lot of snow blanketing everything in sight, and there was more on the way that evening. The sun was beginning to set, bathing the area in beautiful oranges and pinks. The cabin came into view, a small thing that was the only sign of civilization in sight.

As you pulled up the drive, the man beside you began to shift. “That doesn’t look like a museum.”

“Sure it is,” you shrugged, glancing at him briefly before parking the car, “it’s private, so all the info’s online.”

“There’s not even a sign,” Spencer protested, turned in his seat so his back was pressed up against the car door.

“We keep it lowkey on purpose, to avoid people finding it.”

“That’s not a museum.”

“Okay, so maybe not technically,” you sighed, “but I wasn’t lying about all the props and stuff. There really are some cool things inside.”

“Y/N, where are we?”

“My family’s winter cabin?” And at that, Spencer seemed panicked. His head turned so he could survey the area, likely searching for proper escape routes. As he began getting out of the car, you followed, hurrying over to stand in front of him. “Look, wait, please. All you have to do is hang out a little with my family and you’ll have full access to all the old scripts and props. I’m sure you can even take a couple if you want.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad.”

“Oh yeah, and if for some wild reason someone happens to call you my fiancé, just go with it?”

Spencer stood in front of you, amber eyes searching your face—for what, you weren’t sure. What you were sure of, was that this had to work out. There really was no other option than getting Spencer to agree to pretend like he was engaged to you.

“I want to go back to Virginia, right now.”

“Well, see the thing about that is I really only had enough gas to get us here.”

“Then I’ll walk,” Spencer snapped, already beginning to turn around and head back the way you two came. It was a few miles to the nearest little town, there was no way he would make it in this snow.

“Spencer, wait,” you tried again, chilled fingers wrapped around his exposed wrist. He didn’t turn around, but he did stop walking. “Please. It’s only for the week, and I promise I won’t ask for anything weird.”

“Other than for me to pretend to be your fiancé?”

“Yeah, except that.” It was then Spencer finally turned to face you, close enough he had to tilt his head down to look at you.

“You know this only works in movies, right? This is crazy!” His voice raised in pitch, hands gesturing wildly in the air.

“It could work, you don’t know that!”

“I do know that!”

“Please, I wouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t desperate.”

“You’re not asking! You kidnapped me!” Spencer shouted, pulling a wince out of you. He wasn’t wrong, per se, but it didn’t feel great to hear it worded like that.

“You’re really not gonna try this?”

“No, of course, I’m not!”

Then, as though your hands no longer were controlled by your brain, your body jerked and your hand was throwing your car keys as deep into the snowy forest as you could manage. Absolute horror etched across Spencer’s face and it looked for a second as though he mind go after them. Instead, he took a step back from you and shouted, “Why did you do that? How are we supposed to get back now?”

“That’s irrelevant,” you said quickly, not really wanting to think about the answer too much. Why had you done that? It seemed as though your family was already bringing out the worst side of you before you even saw them.

“It's absolutely relevant, Y/N!”

“Well, it looks like you’re stuck here now. You might as well go along with the plan.”

Spencer looked like he was ready to fight it some more. His head tilted to the side a little and lips parted to give you a look that screamed being absolutely done with the situation. Honestly, you couldn’t blame him. Who would want to spend a week with a near stranger’s family?

Luckily, that exact family must’ve heard some of the noise because they were currently making their way out of the cabin to the both of you. “Oh, Y/N, you made it!” your mother cooed, immediately wrapping you up in a tight hug. “Was the drive tough?”

“No, no it wasn’t. The snow didn’t hit until we got about twenty minutes from here.”

“We...? Oh my God, you brought a boy!” she cheered, and you could only smile at the little glare Spencer gave over her shoulder when your mom pulled him in for a hug.

“Jellybean brought a guy?” Immediately your older brother, Nick, was pulling you down in a headlock, rubbing his knuckles through your hair to mess it up as much as possible.

“Nick, fuck off,” you whined, finally yanking your head back away from him.

“I’m sorry, I thought you’d be single forever. I was gonna give you a pamphlet for a nunnery this year,” Nick laughed.

“Oh come on! You’re such a-”

“Now, children, no fighting in front of our guest,” Mom admonished, looking up at Spencer as though he might be a figment of her imagination. “Oh, come in, come in. It’s getting cold and we have dinner all ready for you two. I hope you like lasagna.”

So you followed your mom and brother inside, reaching out to take Spencer’s hand in yours. He turned his head, looking at you with surprise but thankfully didn’t say anything about it. Sure enough, your dad was sitting at the dining table with a giant dish of lasagna waiting.

“Jellybean, who’s this?” he asked as he got up to hug you.

“This is Dr. Spencer Reid. He’s my fiancé,” you introduced, willing your face to hide the smirk forming at the surprised look on Nick’s face. You knew how your family saw you, knew they’d be horribly surprised at not only being engaged, but being engaged to someone as successful and attractive as Spencer.

“Fiancé?” your dad clarified, shifting so he can shake Spencer’s hand.

“Yes, Sir. It happened this morning,” Spencer answered, giving you a knowing look that might’ve had you giggling under any other circumstance. At any second, he could tell your family everything, and then how desperate would you look?

“Oh, honey! Congratulations, I’m so proud of you,” Mom cheered, pulling you in for another hug after setting another place at the table. “Let’s see the ring!”

“The ring? Oh, the ring!” There was, of course, no ring. You looked up to Spencer as if he could help you, but he just raised his brows as if to see ‘I told you this wouldn’t work’. No, it would. You’d make it work. “You know, I took it off to shower before we left and I must’ve forgotten to put it back on.”

“I did that all the time at the start. You’ll get used to wearing it in no time.”

“So, Spencer,” your dad began once everyone sat down at the dining table to eat, “what do you do for work?”

“I’m an agent for the FBI,” Spencer explained, pulling raised brows from your father, “I work in the Behavioral Analysis Unit. We use behavioral profiles to track down serial killers.”

“That’s so cool,” Nick breathed, a wide smile on his face. “Who’s the scariest killer you’ve ever caught?”

“Nick, not at the table,” Mom protested, flashing Spencer an apologetic look as if he’d mind.

“I’m not asking for the gross details, I just wanna know!”

“We once caught a therapist who was using people’s worst fears against them,” Spencer offered then.

“Woah,” Nick let out right as Mom shuddered and looked down at her plate.

“Jellybean, you’re not involved in any of this stuff, right?”

“Of course not, Mom. I don’t ask about his cases.” That was also technically true. In the past year of him coming to your coffee shop, Spencer had briefly mentioned cases when he got back from them but never went into the details with you.

The rest of dinner passed easily, Spencer charming your parents so well you half-wished he was actually your partner. Eventually, the plates were all cleared and all that was left was to get some sleep after a long day of traveling.

“I had Nick bring your bags in here,” Mom explained as she guided you and Spencer to a room...with one bed in it. Of course, it made sense. If you were engaged, then there would be no reason for the two of you to sleep in separate beds much less separate rooms. Still, Spencer was fully staring at you now, not even trying to hide how he felt about it.

“Do we have a spare guest room? Just in case?” you asked Mom, hoping that there was still another room with a bed in it.

“You know there’s not, Honey. Besides, you’re engaged. You don’t have to be embarrassed about your Mom hearing anything, I know what’s going on in here.”

“Mom!” Immediately your cheeks heated up, face falling into your hands as if that might protect you from the conversation at hand. Of course, she couldn’t just stop at that, though.

“Alright, I’ll leave you two to it. Hopefully, I’ll have some grandbabies on the way tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Mom,” you groaned, shutting the door as soon as she began making her way back down the hall.

“That’s it, I’m leaving,” Spencer announced, heading immediately over to the window to peer out of it. You followed him, watching the way the harsh wind blew the snow around to ruin any hope of seeing anything more than a foot in front of you.

“How? The car’s out of commission, there’s no way you’re finding the keys in this.”

“I’ll walk,” Spencer repeated the plan, “I could make it three miles in this.”

“Spencer, I doubt you could get three miles when it’s sunny and warm.”

“I’ve been in fight or flight mode for the last five hours, I can do it.”

“That’s ridiculous, it hasn’t been that bad.”

“No, what’s ridiculous is the way you thought you could kidna-”

Then Mom was opening the door again saying, “Honey, why am I hearing fighting in h-”

She couldn’t possibly hear him talking about kidnapping schemes, not when that would be the one thing you couldn’t talk yourself out of. There was no way you could risk him continuing talking, so you did the only thing you could think of to stop the situation.

You reached up and grabbed Spencer’s face, pulling him down for a kiss. He made a little noise of surprise against you but didn’t pull away, even going so far as to rest his hands against your hips. When you pulled back, Mom was standing there with a bright smile on her face.

“Oh, look at you two already fighting like a married couple,” she cooed, reminding you of the way Spencer’s hands were still at your hips. Still, you found yourself not wanting to move from his grasp. “I promise I won’t bother you anymore. The angry makeup sex always was the best.”

When she did finally leave with a gentle click of the door, neither of you moved. Spencer looked down at you, an amused look playing on his expression. This was the most relaxed you’d seen him since the car ride, and you found yourself wishing he could stay that way.

“Is she always so...open?” he asked.

“Pretty much,” you laughed a little, turning your head to look out the window in embarrassment. It would’ve been an embarrassing situation already, never mind the fact that it was with a guy who wasn’t even your partner.

“Look,” you sighed, looking up at him again after seeing the car slowly being covered in snow outside, “it’s dark and snowing really hard right now. Let’s get some sleep, and if you really want to leave in the morning I’ll help you find the keys myself.”

“You mean it?” Spencer asked, clearly unsure but still looking at you with a new sparkle in his eyes. You’d pretend that it didn’t hurt that he was so excited to get rid of you.

“Of course, I’m not actually gonna keep you here against your will,” you sighed, and the two of you finally parted. As you got ready for bed separately, building a little wall of pillows in the middle, all you could think of was how the skin of your hips still burned from where Spencer’s hands had been.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

When you wake in the morning, you’re surprised to find the bed is empty. Without another body to keep it propped up, the pillow wall has long since collapsed onto Spencer’s side of the bed. He couldn’t have left on his own, so was he now awake and talking to your family?

That thought alone was enough to wake you completely, apprehension making your hands shake as you got dressed for the day.

Spencer was in the kitchen with your Dad, the two of them sitting at the island and nursing cups of coffee. Had Spencer put so much sugar into his cup that it needed to be chewed, or had he held back in fear of being judged by your dad, who most certainly drank it black?

“You know, she used to be a model,” your dad was saying. The right thing to do would’ve been to announce your presence. Still, while your parents hadn’t exactly been non-forthcoming about what they thought of you, it was still intriguing to hear what they said without you there. “Our Jellybean was so successful at it too, she could’ve made a good living for herself.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“You wouldn’t, she hates talking about it,” your dad continued.

“Why’d she stop?”

“Oh, Jellybean has always been jealous of her brother.” Fuck. You wanted to reach out, to tell them to stop before the conversation took a turn for the worst. “She wants to be a writer, but I hate to say I think she should’ve stuck to modeling.”

That was it, the final nail of the coffin. He hadn’t said it aloud, but the implication was there. You weren’t as smart as your brother, you couldn’t handle what it took to be successful as a writer. You weren’t good enough.

“Hey, Spencer,” you called, forcing a smile onto your face as you stepped just far enough into the kitchen for the men to notice you.

“Good morning,” he told you over his cup of coffee. “How’d you sleep?”

“Fine,” you answered quickly, not wanting to stay in this room for longer than necessary. “Wanna see the movie room?”

It was sort of like telling a kid they could have as much candy as they wanted on Halloween, the way Spencer’s entire face lit up. He was standing in seconds, mug discarded into the sink as he rushed to follow you.

The room was one of the larger ones in the cabin, originally meant to be an office but quickly evolving into a place where your dad could store his memorabilia from the shows and movies he worked on over the years.

Immediately, Spencer was enthralled. He walked the perimeter of the room first, fingers gently grazing over the shelves as he took in all of the scripts and props contained within them. You allowed him this time, smiling a little as you watched him take in everything. And when he had, the two of you ended up sitting on the couches in the room. You were messing with one of the props, a fake dagger designed for one of the main characters.

“This is incredible,” Spencer breathed not for the first time that day. “I can’t imagine having a family like yours.”

“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be,” you shrugged, shying away at Spencer’s incredulous expression.

“Your dad’s a famous screenwriter, your mom’s a famous director, even your brother is an incredible screenwriter, how could that possibly be bad?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m thankful for everything they’ve provided for me in life,” you explained, hoping above all that Spencer didn’t come away from this trip thinking that you were a spoiled brat. “It’s just a lot of pressure, is all.”

“Is that why you quit modeling?” He asked curiously, pushing into dangerous territory with the intimate questions.

“I quit modeling because I hated it, not because of any deep-seated insecurities or anything,” you finally answered. “I want to be a writer someday too. And I will be, it just might take me longer than Nick.”

Nick, the golden child who had hit it big with his first screenplay. You were sure part of that had to do with who his parents were, but still, the movie came out and he was praised for his skills. How could you possibly keep up with someone like that?

“What’s so wrong with me?” It’s unclear why the words came out of your mouth when they did, but now that they were in the open you couldn’t say you regretted them.

“There’s nothing wrong with you, Y/N,” Spencer tried to say, but even without being a profiler, you knew he had to be lying. The man had been so against pretending to be with you, there had to be a good reason why.

“Then what is it?” you asked, “Why are you so against pretending to be my boyfriend?”

“Other than the kidnapping part?” he asked, pointing out the obvious.

“Yeah, other than that, I guess.”

“Have you seen me? There are so many other people who would’ve been better for this,” Spencer pointed out.

And wasn’t that just ridiculous? If it wouldn’t have killed the moment, you might’ve considered laughing. “Are you kidding me right now? Spencer, you’re every parent’s wet dream.”

“That’s...a gross thought, and not true.”

“Seriously? It’s been a day and my mom loves you! And I think my dad would rather you be his kid than me.” It was a hurtful thought, but one that had been swirling around your mind since getting here. Maybe having such a perfect fake boyfriend wasn’t a great idea after all.

“That’s not true, Y/N,” Spencer told you, his voice softening. It was the kind of voice you could picture him using if you two were actually dating. He was looking at you like he might actually care, eyebrows tilted a little and lips parted as though he were trying to figure you out. Maybe he was.

“Sure it is. Did you hear my mom last night? That’s the first time she’d ever said she was proud of me, and it was because of you.”

Silence lapsed between you two for only a few minutes before Spencer asked, “You said a week?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ll stay,” he told you, and it almost felt like a dream. Was this really happening? After all of the fighting, all of the begging and desperation, Spencer would really help you? Later, you would wonder if you were deserving of his kindness at that moment, but for now, you would launch yourself at him in a tight hug.

“Thank you so much, you won’t regret it. I’ll make it the best week you’ve ever had.”

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

The next day, Spencer finds himself woken up to excited shouts and a hand shaking his arm.

“Spencer, c’mon, the blizzard stopped!” you cheered, far too energetic for the early hour. “C’mon, get out of bed!”

“I’m coming, I promise,” Spencer laughed, rolling onto his back and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. You were already dressed and ready for the snow—coat, hat, and gloves included.

It was refreshing, how innocently happy you were so often. The only people Spencer really talked to anymore were his teammates, and though he loved them dearly they had all long since lost that innocent joy years before.

So Spencer would join you out in the snow. He got ready quickly, pulling on his own coat and wrapping his purple scarf around himself.

By the time he was ready, the entire family was already outside. He was always blown away seeing families like this, genuinely enjoying each others’ company simply because they could. They had their problems, evidenced by the broken words dripping from your lips the previous day, but they were able to get past them to have some fun together.

“Spencer, over here!” you waved, smiling brightly enough to light up a room. You were gorgeous like this, tongue sticking out a little as you refocused your attention on rolling a giant ball of snow. “Help me make a snowman.”

“I’ve never made one before, what do we do?” he asked, causing you to stop in your tracks and look up at him in wonder.

“What do you mean you’ve never made a snowman?”

“I grew up in Las Vegas.”

“But you’ve been living in Virginia!” you wailed, sounding personally upset that he’d missed out on the experience. “Well, today we’re changing that. We’re gonna spend all day out in the snow if we have to.”

It was truly fun in an unexpected way. Building a snowman was just rolling little ice crystals together until they made a vague shape, but still, Spencer found himself laughing along with you the whole way. He helped you stack the pieces, and when it was time to make the face he followed your orders to a tee.

“Here, this will help,” Spencer said, lifting his scarf to wrap it around the snowman’s neck.

“Oh, it’s perfect!” you gasped, eliciting another smile from Spencer. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d last smiled this much, when he wasn’t worried about a case or all of the problems plaguing the team.

As wild as the entire situation was, Spencer was thankful for the chance to decompress. It was freeing, being out here in the snow with you. He wished they could do this every day, even after the week was over.

And that-

Well, where had that thought come from? Just two days prior he’d been considering walking miles in a blizzard to escape this cabin, and now Spencer was wondering if they might be able to stay longer. What was this effect you had on him? It was almost scary, the way he’d come to enjoy your company despite your imperfect means to get him here.

A bunch of snow was hitting his shoulder then, a bit of it flying up into his face and chilling the skin there. Spencer let out a wild yelp then, turning to find where it had come from.

You, of course, were standing there with a couple of snowballs in your hand and a devious look on your face. “You’ve never had a snowball fight either, right, Doctor Reid?”

Oh, what Spencer would do to get you to say those words again.

“I haven’t,” he answered, bending down to press some of the white crystals into his own ammunition. You have him a few seconds grace before it was on, the two of you running around the open space and hurling packed snow at each other.

Eventually, he’d caught up to you, his arms reaching out to grab you in an attempt to prevent you from throwing another snowball. What started as an innocent part of the game ended up in both of you tripping over yourselves, you flat on your back in the snow, and Spencer having caught himself just over you.

Both of you were breathing heavily, little swirls of air entwining between you two. Your eyes were gorgeous, carrying the kind of depth that Spencer could lose himself in for ages. Yes, he wanted more moments like this with you.

And with the rest of the family watching, you were pulling his head down just enough so you could kiss him again.

The first time had been shocking. Spencer had been mid-rant, fully about to ridicule you for thinking it was a good idea to kidnap a federal agent. He could have his team here in hours if he was really willing to put up with their jokes for the end of time. Then, your lips were on his and that night, Spencer found himself laying awake thinking about it.

Now it was happening again. Spencer had seen it coming, able to move back against you. His skin was heating up despite the snow wrapped around you two. It was beautiful, a moment that Spencer never wanted to end. He wanted to kiss you again, just because he could and not to keep up appearances. He wanted to learn more about you every day and when the week was over, he wanted to ask you to stay with him.

Spencer wanted to kiss you again, but he didn’t. He didn’t, because all you wanted was a fake boyfriend. You didn’t want him, not truly. He was good enough to appease the parents, that much you’d made clear. He was good enough for the parents, but he wasn’t enough for you.

So he smiled and said, “Good thinking. They’ll really believe us now,” before standing up and holding out a hand for you to take.

He smiled and told himself it didn’t hurt.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

By the third day, it’s almost comfortable to wake up beside Spencer.

The pillow wall is still up, but in the middle of the night your leg has ended up over it, your ankle hooking around his. He’s crossed the self-made barrier too, arm thrown over it and fingers dangerously close to holding yours.

Spencer is gorgeous like this—relaxed without any care in the world. His hair is messy, spread out against the pillow. His lips are parted and there are tiny little snores coming from him, creating the most domestic scene you’d ever bared witness to.

It made your heart ache in a way you weren’t expecting. There were only a few more days of this, and then suddenly there wouldn’t be anymore waking up to Spencer. He’d go on with his life and you’d go on with yours. After all of this, you had to imagine he wouldn’t want to come near your coffee shop anymore, and could you blame him for that?

After just a few more days, Spencer would be out of your life forever, and that was the simple truth of the matter.

“Good morning,” his gentle voice pulled you from your thoughts. The second his amber eyes landed on yours, his lips were pulling upwards. It was easy to imagine this was the way it was meant to be—Spencer, your boyfriend, overjoyed that he got to wake up beside you in the same way you wanted to rejoice.

“Good morning,” you answered back, voice barely over a whisper. “What do you want to do today?”

“Your Dad mentioned they were all going skiing.” Oh. They usually did that at least once, getting up at the crack of dawn and staying out until late. “They won’t be here all day, so I had a plan.”

So far, it had been you coming up with ways to entertain yourselves. What did Spencer have in store for you? “Oh yeah? What is it?”

“You mentioned you missed baking. I thought we could start small and you could teach me how to make cookies.”

Immediately you were flying out of the bed, eliciting a loud laugh from Spencer. “What? Come on, let’s go! There are cookies to bake,” you demanded, laughing as you pulled on the nearest outfit you could find. Spencer was up and moving now, too, albeit at a much slower pace.

Eventually, you’d managed to nudge him to the kitchen where he already had all of the baking supplies set out and organized on the counter. “Oh, you’re my favorite person.”

“That’s what it takes? Baking?” Spencer laughed, shaking his head.

“Absolutely,” you answered, wrestling your hair up into a bun off of your face. You tossed a hair tie over to Spencer, who followed suit to tie his long hair off of his face, the shorter pieces already falling out to frame his face.

God, it isn’t fair how beautiful he is.

So the two of you get to work making the cookie dough, you taking the lead and explaining the process whenever needed. It’s truly fun, getting this time to spend with Spencer. There’s no arguing, there’s no one around to try and impress. It’s just the two of you, getting to know one another better.

And eventually, the cookie dough is made.

“You want to try it?” you asked, a playful look taking on your face as you held out a large spatula of cookie dough out for him to try. Just as Spencer got close enough to taste, you were wiping a bit of the dough on his nose.

Spencer gasped, eyes darkening a little as he looked down at you. It was nearing an absolute sinful look, the kind that made you squirm from where you were standing.

“You didn’t want to do that,” Spencer warned, grabbing the nearest thing to him and wiping it across your cheek. Flour, there was now a large swatch of flour across your skin and on your shirt.

“Oh yes, I did, Sweet Pea,” you challenged, also grabbing some of the powder and tossing it at him.

You thought it only happened in movies, but here you were in a flour fight with Spencer. The two of you were laughing loudly, and you couldn’t remember the last time your chest felt this light. It was far too easy picturing doing this in your own apartment, making a mess in your kitchen but leaving it until the morning. You could picture the two of you, wrapped around each other as you shed the flour-covered clothes.

“Truce, truce,” you giggled, hand reaching out to hold onto his upper arm in an attempt to stop his movements.

“You’re admitting defeat so quickly?” Spencer asked with lips pursed in a hint of a smile. When you nodded, he added, “So what do I get for winning?”

There were so many things you wanted to say.

He was looking at you, and you were unable to take your eyes off of him. Your thoughts were racing a mile a minute, solely about what his lips might taste like now against your own. You’d kissed him once before, but now would you be able to taste his morning coffee and the ghost of leftover cookie dough? Would it be sweet, with gentle hands guiding you closer to him?

“What do you want?” you asked, tempting him to make the decision now. He could have you if he so chose.

Spencer was licking his lips now. Your lower back was pressed to the counter and he was in front of you; it would be so easy for him to lean down and take what he wanted. For a second, you thought he might, too.

Instead, he shook his head as a barrier shut across his face. Spencer stepped back, saying, “I think I’ll take the first shower.”

It was impossible not to feel hurt, to long for the version of this in which Spencer actually kissed you. He’d made it clear at the beginning of this all that he wasn’t in the least bit attracted to you, so it shouldn’t have stung this much now. He’d done far worse before than not kissing you.

Still, as Spencer walked away to shower, you couldn’t help but think that the end of this week would kill you in a way you’d never quite expected before.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

The second the bedroom door shut behind him, Spencer had his phone out. If only to save his dignity before, the man hadn’t wanted to resort to this unless absolutely necessary.

It was necessary now, as Spencer sat on the bed with flushed cheeks and a racing heart. He had been so close to ruining everything, to making this into something it wasn’t. You wanted him to be your pretend partner, how could he possibly make it anything more?

Before Spencer could think about it, his shaking hands were calling the one person he trusted most with all of this. He knew she’d be telling the rest of the team—the only reason he’d put this off for as long as he had—but Spencer couldn’t do this anymore.

“Boy Genius! Is everything okay?” Penelope’s voice rang through the speaker, filling Spencer with pure relief.

“I wanted to ask for some advice.”

“Oh, I can do that. What, are you planning on finding a New Year’s Eve kiss tonight?” Penelope teased but when Spencer couldn’t even find it in himself to answer, she gasped. “Spencer Reid, do you have someone to kiss tonight?”

“No, well kind of.” So Spencer launched into the full story, and it truly did sound crazy when he explained it all. Even now, he wasn’t sure why he had believed you, not fully. It seemed like an obvious lie in hindsight, but now he was here and he couldn’t exactly say he regretted getting into your car. He only regretted that the end of the week was quickly approaching. He regretted how the days got tougher with each passing second, knowing that eventually you two would part ways forever.

“Hold on,” Penelope finally spoke after he finished the story. She was clearly trying to stifle her laughter on the other end of the line, little snickers slipping out every so often. “Oh baby boy, you fell for the candy in the van trick.”

“Please don’t tell the team about this,” Spencer groaned, already being able to see the looks on their faces once they knew he actually got kidnapped.

“You know I have to if you want us to come to rescue you.”

“That’s just it, I...”

“Oh my god, you love her!” Penelope squealed, causing Spencer’s cheeks to heat up. The thing was, he couldn’t even say that his friend was wrong necessarily. You were unlike anyone he’d met before. You were fun and carefree, and he found himself wishing he could spend so much more time with you. He wanted to come home to you every day, to your giggles as you baked or your gentle singing to Christmas songs even though the season was over by now. “You’re gonna tell her, right?”

“No, I can’t,” Spencer sighed.

“Why not?”

“She needed a fake boyfriend, that’s it. After this week she’ll want to go back to normal.”

“How would you know that unless you tell her?” And deep down, Spencer knew she was right. Penelope Garcia was typically right when it came to such matters. It would be wise to trust her, but still, at the thought alone Spencer’s hands were sweating and his heart was racing. How could he possibly go out there and admit he liked you after he’d spent so long making it clear he thought you were ridiculous for this elaborate scheme?

“I know, you’re right,” he sighed.

“Of course I’m right, why wouldn’t I be?” she laughed, and then her tone with soft as she added, “you know I love you, right?”

“Yeah, I know. I love you too,” Spencer told her in return.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

You hadn’t seen Spencer in hours.

The cookies were done but eventually got left abandoned on the island, growing cold as you studied the book sitting in your lap. Of course, you weren’t actually able to read it. The thoughts swirling through your mind like a thick fog made concentrating on any one thing for too long impossible, always taking you back to the man locked up in your bedroom.

Had you really messed up that badly? It hadn’t seemed like an egregious action at the time, just a little light flirting. It was even relatively tame compared to the behavior you two engaged in around your family—lingering kisses and gentle touches, little embraces of two people who were completely comfortable with one another.

So when the sun set and the new year began creeping ever-closer, you decided enough was enough. For better or for worse, this would be the moment you were honest about everything.

“Hey, Spencer?” you asked, knocking a couple times on the bedroom door.

A few moments of shuffling later, and you were met with a slightly disheveled-looking Spencer. His eyes were tired, eyelids not fully open as he looked at you. One hand came up to rub at an eye, trying to force the sleepiness there away.

“Sorry, were you sleeping?”

“Only a quick nap,” he reassured you.

“Okay, then grab your coat and c’mon,” you told him, figuring it was better to leave it a surprise for as long as possible. Already you felt light, buzzing with nervous energy. Your hands shook, and you didn’t trust your voice not too if you spoke to him for too long.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll find out. Do you trust me?” It was a scary question to ask, considering how he’d gotten to this cabin in the first place.

You never would have expected the small shrug and the “Of course I do,” from him, but here you were accepting it anyway.

The two of you made your way out into the snow, away from the cabin, and up to a little hill not far from the home. You plopped right down into the snow, and with only a little hesitation did Spencer join you.

“What are we doing out here?” he asked, already looking up at the night sky. The cabin was in an area not heavily inhabited by people, so the sky was decorated in sparkling stars. “Oh, I’ve never seen the Milky Way.”

“I thought you were from the desert?” you asked him in return. The only other places you’d heard of being able to see these many stars were out West where the desert made much of the space not inhabitable.

“Las Vegas,” Spencer clarified, and ah, that made more sense. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah, it is,” you answered, leaning back a little so you could peer up at the sky. The two of you were silent for a few minutes, simply enjoying one anothers’ company. It was peaceful in a way your home in Virginia never got. Though you often complained about these family vacations, you would miss it if you ever skipped out on a year.

It would also never be the same again, knowing how fun this week has been with Spencer. How could you ever come back again after this?

“I never said thank you,” you shattered the silence, turning to look over at him. “for putting up with all of this. You could’ve easily screwed me over, but you didn’t. You’re a really good guy, Spencer.”

“Anyone would’ve done the same,” he tried to be humble, but you weren’t having it.

“No, actually they wouldn’t. You’re really special.”

Then, Spencer was leaning in. His hand was braced against your jaw, and though you knew you could move at any second you found you didn’t want to. Just as you could feel his breath on your face, you whispered, “You don’t have to kiss me if you don’t want to. No one’s watching.”

And then, the most miraculous thing.

“I want to,” Spencer whispered before closing the distance.

It was beautiful and magical, and everything you could have ever imagined. You’d had New Year’s Eve kisses before. Typically they were during loud, crowded parties with the taste of champagne and beer stuck between you. They were hard and fast, enough to bruise lips but never illicit any other feeling.

You wouldn’t ever be the same, after Spencer Reid. His lips were soft against yours, allowing you to take the lead. His hand was cold against your face but you didn’t care, your own hands wrapping into the fabric of his scarf to pull him even closer to you.

And when you two broke apart, Spencer was the most wondrous sight you’d ever seen. Eyes shining with wide pupils, cheeks and nose tinted pink from both the cold and the kiss, lips parted as he fought to regain the air he’d willingly sacrificed.

Spencer was a work of art.

“Spencer, I have to tell y-” you began to say, but the words were quickly broken off by sirens.

Police sirens.

Immediately the two of you were on your feet, watching as a dark SUV approached the cabin. A few figures hopped out, searching around but ultimately running up to you.

Oh, God, they were wearing FBI vests. Spencer had called the FBI on you, hadn’t he? Turning to look at him, you found that his head was tilted down, eyes trained at his snow-soaked Converse. “Spencer?” you asked, tilting your head to try and catch his gaze but ultimately being unsuccessful.

Then your family was exiting the cabin, running up to where the commotion was. How humiliating could this get? Already your vision was blurred by tears, arms wrapped firmly around your middle as if to offer some kind of protection against the scene.

“You called someone?” you asked, gasping around the words as if they had choked you.

“Of course he did, you kidnapped a federal agent,” the blond woman called out, sounding more than a little judgmental. Her blue eyes were looking at you harshly, staring you down as if you were no better than the serial killers they caught regularly.

“JJ-” Spencer began but was quickly cut off by your family realizing the true nature of the situation.

“Y/N, did you kidnap him?!” your dad shouted while your mom let out a panicked cry, hand flying up to cover her mouth.

“I–Well, I–” you stammered, wondering if you could possibly explain what had happened in a good way. “Only a little.”

“What does that mean, honey?” your dad sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. If he wasn’t disappointed in you before, then he most certainly was now. In an attempt to make them finally proud of you, all you’d managed to do was ruin whatever relationship you’d had with your family.

“It was only a minor kidnapping. He could’ve left anytime,” you tried to explain, eyes turning to look at Spencer with a pleading look. He knew, he knew he could’ve left. You’d offered to help get the car back in running shape if that was what he really wanted. “Spencer, please. Tell them. Tell them you want to stay.”

That was the moment that cracked something in him. He head finally snapped up, honeyed eyes looking at you with an intensity you’d never seen from him before. “I don’t want to stay here,” he told you, stealing the breath straight from your chest. “I’ve been miserable, I can’t be here anymore.”

It didn’t make sense. Was he trying to hurt you on purpose? Was kissing you his way of making sure you knew how wrong this whole situation was?

Spencer Reid was a complete ass.

“Fine,” you snapped, squeezing tightly on your abdomen to try and hold back the sobs you felt climbing your body. “Go then. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I made you so miserable.”

You were walking away, right back to the cabin. If they wanted to arrest you, they could come after you.

“Y/N, wait!” Spencer shouted, but the FBI agents were talking to him then, telling him they needed to start heading back. You weren’t going to stop for him, not after he’d gripped your heart until it shattered into something unrecognizable.

By the time you got back to the bedroom, the police lights were fading away in the distance, carrying Spencer away with them.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

It would have been far too easy if things got better after that.

No, after Spencer was rescued by his friends, no one in your family could quite look you in the eye. You were the woman who kidnapped a guy so you wouldn’t be alone for the holidays, how sad was that?

So you’d left early too, spending all of the next day digging around in the woods for the keys you’d thrown. It felt like a lifetime ago, standing by your car and begging Spencer to stay. The two of you ended up having fun in that strange situation, or so you thought.

You went back to work.

What else were you supposed to do? It felt silly to be heartbroken over a man who had never once been yours, but here you were throwing yourself into making coffee so you wouldn’t have to feel the unbelievable pain that came with remembering that night.

He’d kissed you.

Spencer had actually kissed you, a moment meant just for you two. What had it meant, if no one had been watching? It couldn’t have been pretend, so why had he done it and then left in the next few minutes?

“Go home, you look like shit,” Chelsea told you after a week of being back on the job.

You sighed, finishing up the drink you were working on and sliding it across the counter to the customer. “I’m fine, I can finish my shift,” you told her, insistent. How could you return home to an empty apartment, after having imagined asking Spencer to stay when the week was over?

“No, you’re scaring the customers away with your doom and gloom. Take tonight, work through everything, and come back when you’re ready,” your friend insisted.

That was how you ended up home early, fumbling with your keys to unlock the apartment.

And when you stepped inside, you were sure something in your mind had cracked. Standing there in slacks and a button-up, was Spencer fucking Reid. His hands were shoved deep into his pants pockets, hair still just as messy as you remembered and a guarded expression on his face.

“How’d you get in my apartment?” you asked, shutting and locking the door behind you.

“I learned how to pick locks when I was ten,” Spencer admitted with a light, breathy laugh.

“So you broke into my house.”

“Only a little,” Spencer echoed what you’d said before, a playful smile taking on his face. It hurt more than he likely wanted it to, pulling a wince from you. Still, as much as it pained you, you found that you couldn’t take your eyes off of him.

“Why are you here, Spencer?” you asked, wanting to get to the bottom of this right away. He couldn’t stay in your apartment for longer than absolutely necessary, not when you were still trying to shred the imaginary pictures you’d formed in your mind of him being here.

“I handled that night completely wrong.”

“You humiliated me in front of my whole family.”

And that was the hardest part of it all.

Though it would have killed you, knowing Spencer didn’t feel the same way for you was something you could get over. You planned to tell him the truth that night, knowing that one of the likely results was that he’d admit that while he had fun, he didn’t want to continue being her boyfriend, real or fake.

No, it was the fact that your family would never treat you the same ever again that stung. It would ruin you, knowing that the memories of that cabin were ruined forever. You would always be known as the family member who committed a federal crime simply because she didn’t want to be alone.

“I know, and I’m sorry. My team tells me my IQ drops in half when I’m around someone I like.” You didn’t answer, how could you? What was there to say to him, when nothing he was saying made sense at all? “I meant I was miserable because I was pretending to be your boyfriend.”

God, was this a joke to him? Was it funny to see the pain blossom in your chest and take root there?

“I know,” you snapped, “I got that the first time.”

“No!” Spencer shouted, stepping forward in his panic. “No, no that’s not what I meant.” His eyes looked up to the ceiling, hands clenching and unclenching as he fought to find the right words.

You’d guess he never did find them because instead, his hands were grabbing either side of your face then. Spencer was stepping closer to you and pressing his lips to you in a desperate kiss that would undoubtedly leave your lips swollen and bruised.

“I don’t want to pretend anymore,” he murmured against your lips as his face barely pulled back.

“You mean it?” It didn’t feel real.

Spencer’s words were confirmed again in another kiss. As he gained confidence, he pressed forward until your back was against the wall, his hands moving down your body to keep you held there. Your own hands finally woke up, moving up to tangle in his curly hair.

The kiss reminded you of spring. Things had been lost that night, when harsh words had been spoken in kind to one another. It wasn’t ruined though, and the sign of it all was this kiss, both gentle and aching.

This kiss was a new beginning, the hope of a future where you could bring Spencer back to that cabin not as a fake fiancé, but as your real partner.

And as you planned to stay the rest of the night wrapped up in his arms, all you could think was that for once, maybe the movies really did have something right after all.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

General Taglist:

@samuel-de-champagne-problems @matthewgraygublerlover @silverhetdanes @ssawonderland @safespacespence @shemarmooresfedora @reidsbookclub @alexontheinternet @katymarie @mrsobrien888 @alexxavicry @writingquillsandpainpills @fightingdragonswithreid @idfvc @lil-stark @lady-anon-x @arrowurboat

[thefanficmonster]

Corpse’s Girl

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Bullying, Swearing, Derogatory Terms

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Summary: Y/N’s life as a regular college student is forever stripped away from her when her relationship with the famous YouTuber Corpse Husband is accidentally revealed during an online class of hers. How will she cope with the sudden spotlight and the unwanted attention, some of which crosses into bullying?

Requested by my amazing Tumblr friend @itsminniekat 🥰 She’s been reading and liking my works since day one and I honestly couldn’t be more grateful. If you’re reading this, all I can say is thank you, darling. Thank you so much for sticking by my blog even when I posted some crappy fics. I’ll make sure this ain’t one of them. Love you with all my heart. ❤❤❤

P.S. - I named the mean character with my name so I hope no one who reads this has the same name. Wouldn’t want any of you feeling like the villain 😘

Who knew online class would be even more boring than being physically present for a lecture? Seriously, I find myself doing the weirdest of crap to entertain myself - like trying to balance a pen on the tip of my nose for example. I jot down some notes every now and then but that’s basically it. My mind can not fathom the concept on concentrating on whatever my professors are going on and on about. Well, full disclosure, I couldn’t concentrate even if I wanted to, especially with my boyfriend streaming in the other room.

He’s currently playing Among Us with his usual gaming squad. Listening to his input during the discussions, I can always tell when he’s lying. I honestly find it hilarious that his friends can’t pick up when he’s bullshitting them. I sometimes wonder if he has brainwashed them. And that’s one of the main reasons we don’t play Among Us together - he can’t lie to me. Not only do I pick up on his con with ease, but he always says he feels bad when he lies to me which is just the sweetest thing. Also, I refuse to play cause I’m shy. His friends are all well-known content creators and I’m a literal nobody. Every now and then I find myself wondering why Corpse is even with me. He’s always quick to push those thoughts out of my head and make sure they don’t return on a long notice, but they do interrupt my peace from time to time.

“Y/N, do you know?“ The sound of my professor saying my name takes me out of my eavesdropping of Corpse’s stream.

I panic, but quickly improvise, “Sorry, my internet is slow, you cut out for a second. What was the question?” I feel my face heating up, making me glad we are allowed to keep our cameras off.

“Question number 15 on page 82 in your textbook. Do you know the answer to it?“ My professor repeats himself, his tone annoyed.

I look down at the page that’s already opened in front of me. I let out a sigh of relief, seeing that the question is rather easy.

“Yeah, um, it’s...“ Suddenly, Corpse’s laugh reaches my room loud and clear. There’s no doubt my mic picked up the noise, especially since the door to my room is open.

The color drains from my face as I hurry to say the answer and remute myself. My eyes are wide as I stare at my screen, hoping no one will acknowledge that very recognizable laugh.

“OMG Y/N, are you watching a Corpse Husband stream in class?” One of the bitches in my class, Vy, speaks up, “Not a very goody-two-shoe move on your part, dear.” 

I purposely unmute my mic to mumble a quick ‘Shut up, bitch’ that somehow manages to fly under my professor’s radar and the class continues. It’s the first time something like this has happened and I’m not sure if I handled it properly or not.

The class ends shortly after, allowing me a sigh of relief as I disconnect from the meeting. 

“Fucking finally.“ I mumble to myself, leaning back in my desk chair. Tilting my head backwards, I see Corpse standing in the doorframe. I grin, not only because his presence itself makes me ten times happier, but also because he’s upside down from my viewpoint. “Well, hello there! How long have you been spying on me?“

He struts over to me, leaning his face over mine, “Long enough.” His lips linger above mine without any actual contact before he pulls away, allowing me to sit up straight and proper in the chair. “You still have classes?”

I nod my head while disappointedly rolling my eyes, “Yeah. One more. Shouldn’t be too bad since it’s English Lit. You’re done streaming?”

“Yeah, I just have some other things to do. I haven’t done a narration video in a while, I miss making that type of content.“ He plops down on my bed, running a hand through his messy black curls.

“Weren’t you recording some lines a few days ago?“ I frown as I try to recall if what I’m referring to actually happened or my brain is too fried to decipher reality from my bootleg perception of it. Online class, man - messes with your head like sleeping pills - makes you disoriented and exhausted with barely doing anything other than trying to wrap your brain around a lecture or two.

He hums affirmatively, “It’s not a finished project and I don’t even know if I’ll use those or rerecord them. I’ll have to listen to them again before I make a final decision.“

I tilt his chin upwards with my pointer finger, a gesture he has told me he finds very endearing, “I’m sure they’re great and you just refuse to be satisfied. Everything you do is great.“

He smiles a small, shy smile, his fingers gently wrapping around my wrist, holding my hand in place, “You’re biased. You like me too much to tell me when I do some bullshit.”

I scoff, “You know that isn’t true. If someone’s gonna kick your butt in formation, it’s gonna be me.“ I give him a quick kiss on the forehead before pulling away from him, “Go on, now. I have a class to attend. You distract me enough while you’re in the other room, I can only imagine how hard it’d be for me to focus if you were right by my side.“

He smirks, bowing a little as he makes his way out of the room, “You flatter me.”

I playfully roll my eyes, getting my headset back on as I tap the last class for the day. We have an assignment due to the start of the class which we’ll have to present if the professor approved of it. We basically had to write a psychoanalysis of a character from any book of our choice. I chose Heathcliff from ‘Wuthering Heights’ which is one of my favorite books of all time. I’m proud of what I wrote and the way I wrote it, but I’ve always barely scraped by with a B in this class, a B+ if I’m lucky, so I’ve never gotten any major credit, even when I put my 110% in the assignments and projects.

Well, color me surprised when the professor calls on me first to read my work, complimenting it on its detailed and specific nature. I get my printed assignment out in front of me and unmute myself.

“I wrote a psychoanalysis on for Heathcliff, a character from Emily Bronte’s novel ‘Wuthering Heights’.“ Just after I say this line, Corpse’s voice booms throughout the whole apartment, no doubt being picked up by my mic. It doesn’t sound like he’s actually talking, he can’t be that loud. I put two and two together when I recognize the lines he’s saying - the ones he recorded a few days ago. They’re coming from his computer speakers. He probably didn’t check the volume before playing back the recording.

I mute myself as quickly as possible, but it’s too late. The voice dies down as Corpse probably turned down the speakers.

My professor, who is already done with this lecture, just annoyedly remarks, her words overdosed with sarcasm: “Read your assignment and you can go back to whatever it is you are watching.”

“Wow, Y/N! Again?! Are you one of those crazy obsessed fans or something? Is Corpse Husband all you watch?“ This bitch is really poking a stick at me, huh? The only crazy obsessed fan here is her, and my friends but they are allowed. Little do all of them know, I am obsessed but not simply over a YouTuber. I’m obsessed with my boyfriend who just happens to be a YouTuber.

“No commentary, please.“ The professor scolds her, “Go on, Y/N.“

I finish reading without any other disturbances. The professor compliments my essay again when I’m done, the small incident at the beginning forgotten already. Well, not by everyone. One of my friends shot me a quick text to joke about it which only earned an eye roll from me.

My friends don’t know that I’m dating Corpse either. As I said, they are simping HARD over him while I act the most indifferent on the subject. Whenever they ask my opinion on him I either say ‘he’s OK’ or just avoid answering completely. I know saying anything more enthusiastic than that would turn into a snowball rolling down a snowy hill - I’d just keep babbling about how nice, amazing, wonderful and a gift to this world Corpse is, inevitably revealing our relationship in the process.

I’m afraid of revealing my relationship with Corpse in front of these people. They are all run on jealousy and selfishness and I can only imagine how mean they’d be about it. I’m already not too fond of them, it would only be worse if any of my personal life was exposed.

When the class finally ends I remove my headset, putting my forehead down on the desk, barely missing the keyboard. I groan in frustration and anger at myself for not fighting back. I could’ve and should’ve said something - ANYTHING. But what? That’s a question I can’t find the answer to.

“Hey...“ Corpse’s hesitant voice comes from behind me, “You ok?“

I straighten my posture, turning to him with a smile. “Yeah, but these people suck.”

I get up from my chair as he approaches me, basically falling in his arms. The comfort I feel radiating off of him makes me relax, forget the past hour or so. He has always had this effect on me. Like my own personal kryptonite to my anger and anxiety.

“Did I get you in any trouble because of that?“ His voice shows clear concern and guilt. 

I wrap my arms around him tighter, burying my head in his chest. “No, don’t worry about it.“ 

And I really wasn’t in trouble. Not until now that the video is officially posted....

I can call these people dumb all I want but they sure put two and two together awfully fast. They recognized the lines they heard during class as the same ones from his new video that came out almost a week after the incident, aka two days ago. It’s safe to say I haven’t touched my phone or computer since.

“This is all my fault.“

Of all the horrible things I suspected would happen this has to be the worst - Corpse is blaming himself for it. I am prepared to take all the shit these people have to throw at me but seeing Corpse beating himself up over this is killing me. No amount of convincing can change his mind. Nothing I say helps.

“Please, stop doing this to yourself. Non of this is your fault, Corpse.“ I’ve repeated this sentence more than a thousand time these past forty eight hours, each time saying it more and more desperately.

“All of it is my fault, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I hate myself so much.“ Has been his reply single time.

 I can’t watch him be so mean to himself. It’s the most conflicting thing when the person you love most is torturing themselves. It’s easy if it’s someone else doing it, you just kick their ass. But what are you supposed to do when the person you want to protect is the same one you need to protect them from.

Corpse has shut himself away in his recording room these past few hours and though he clearly needs to be alone, he still left the door open just a crack cause he knows I’ll be worried sick otherwise.

While I’m alone in the living room, I’ve finally managed to brace myself and build enough courage to power up my laptop. Last time it was on it was going mad with notifications.

“It’s digital. Only digital. It can’t hurt you too badly if it can’t touch you, right?“ I mumble to myself, already frustrated despite not having yet seen all the horrors that await me.

And horrors there were. Everywhere. Twitter. Instagram. Facebook.

My grades. Some pictures of me no one has ever seen. My school files. People from my class tweeting Corpse to ‘expose��� me for the ‘slut’ or ‘bitch’ I really am. Corpse hasn’t touched social media either and I plan on making sure it stays that way. God only knows how much worse he’ll get if he sees these claims.

And then, like a notification sent straight from hell, an email from my professor.

Practical lectures on Friday. Be here at 9 AM. Don’t forget your mask and gloves.

Good thing I opened my laptop when I did. Friday is tomorrow and I need to prepare for this day. Not only do I need to hit the books but I need to toughen up a bit. I can’t go there looking like I feel - like a mess.

Alright, time to put the brave face on. No more wallowing in it, at least not until tomorrow afternoon.

I make a study plan and hop in the shower. I feel the need to apologize to my hair for washing it so roughly, basically yanking at my strands from frustration that has been suppressed for too long.

I get our of the boiling hot shower, red as a lobster, and change into some clean comfortable clothes and put my ass in study mode. I remove all the scary expectations of the morning to come from my mind and let the information the textbooks has to offer seep into my brain.

                                                            *  *  *

I’m about to head out and, despite my put-together composure, I am a wreck inside. I actually put effort into my appearance, I mean - I even styled my hair. A pretty façade to hide a ruin.

I saw my friends’ texts last night, all three of them ending their friendship with me because they felt betrayed. I haven’t yet decided how to feel about that. Doesn’t matter at the moment, there are more important matters at hand, aka surviving the next three hours.

My college is within ten minutes walking distance from our apartment. That ten minute walk has never been so stressful, not even during exam season. The air feels a little harder to breathe, the path a little shorter to walk. And my moment of reckoning a little too close.

I feel eyes on me the second I start walking through the park of our campus. Sure, I could just be paranoid, but the feeling is too real to be just my imagination in overdrive. I’m glad I have my hair down and a mask on so the redness of my cheeks and neck isn’t on display. That’s a sign of weakness right now.

We have two an hour and a half long classes between which we have a snack break that’s half an hour. I usually enjoy that period but I’m dreading it now. These assholes can only be so mean in the presence of a professor, but during lunch break they can increase that tenfold. 

“Well if it isn’t Corpse’s girl.“ I hear that a lot. The whispers are not so much whispers as intentionally loud enough for me to hear remarks. I’m not bothered by them, it’s the least they can do. If I let such a simple thing get to me, I’d be crumbling by the end of first period.

I hear some shuffling behind me and out of the corner of my eye I see, yeah you guessed it, THAT bitch. She’s standing as close to me as she can without violating Covid regulations. A mask is covering her face but the menacing look in her eyes tells me all I need to know about the interaction that’s about to go down.

“I’d ask how much he pays you for the hour.....“ her long nails tap the wooden desk, “but that’d be rude. I bet it’s tough being a maid. Do you just clean or are you a multipurpose lap dog? No offense, I’m genuinely curious.“

“Vy, would you be so kind as to give Y/N some room to breathe?“ The professor asks as he nonchalantly walks in.

Vy rolls her eyes, batting her eyelashes at me, “Talk to you later, sweetheart.” With a fake friendly wave she’s out of my hair, at least for now.

Remember what I said about these people not being as dumb as I pegged them to be? Yeah, scratch that. These fuckers actually tried getting away with taking pictures of me with flash in broad daylight. Like, HELLO! I have two functioning eyes and a brain, I’m onto you. Sadly, me having figured out their childish but hurtful methods of humiliating me doesn’t change much. They still posted the pics they took, using the most derogatory terms they could find in the English language, always making sure to tag Corpse and me both.

Needless to say, these were the longest three hours of my life.

                                                              *  *  *

Shutting the door to our apartment behind me causes relief of the highest levels. I feel like I’ve locked out all the bad shit I have had to deal with these past twenty four hours. 

I’m tired. I’m fucking exhausted. I feel like a discarded piece of paper. 

And it all starts crumbling. A wall is bound to start slowly falling apart after being hit over and over again, each time feeling the blows with a stronger intensity. 

I slide down the door sitting down on the floor and slowly taking my shoes off. I put my bag beside me and wrap my arms around my knees, hiding my head in the space between them and my chest.

One tear slides down my cheek.

Another follows.

And another, this time accompanied by a choked sob.

A pair of arms wraps around the ball that my body has been shaped into. One of his hands comes up to stroke my hair gently, feeding me the comfort I have been longing for since I left the apartment this morning.

“I saw it. All of it. All the shit they talk about you. All the names they call you. And I’ve never wanted to beat so many people up simultaneously.“ His words make me raise my head from its low position, giving him a knowing look. “I wish I could. I would, but that would land me in jail. Which doesn’t even sound so bad cause I don’t like going out. Only problem is you wouldn’t be with me. I wouldn’t want you to be there with me, don’t get me wrong, I’d never want you to end up in jail. I-...” I cut him off by pressing my lips to his. A quick kiss that says so much but mainly shows the immeasurable gratitude for his support.

Seeing those awful tweets and comments had the complete opposite effect on him. He no longer blames himself but the people who actually deserve the blame - all those jerks from my college.

I pull away, giving him a small smile. “I would never let you go to jail.” 

He smiles back at me, overjoyed that my mood is slowly being lifted, “Come on, I have a nice crowd that would like to meet you.”

I know exactly what he means. Felix, Sean, Rae, Dave, Sykkuno and the rest of his friends. The people I’ve been so shy and afraid to meet since day one. Being shy doesn’t really make sense now, seeing as how they know I exist and that I’m a part of Corpse’s life. 

What do I have to lose?

“Guys, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.“ Corpse’s black avatar runs around my cyan one in the Among Us lobby.

I can’t help but giggle when I unmute my mic, “Hi everyone! It’s so nice to finally meet you.“ They each introduce themselves, expressing how happy they are to be meeting me too.

It’s the first time in what feels like a while that I’m truly having fun. These people are wonderful, each so unique and lovely. They never brought up the scandal nor acted as though they knew about it. I know they did and I am beyond grateful that they never mentioned it or treated me any differently because of it. Also, Corpse was streaming the whole time. I had my phone on his stream, my eyes nervously scanning the chat every now and then. I couldn’t believe it. Corpse’s real fans were just as wonderful as his friends - they were nothing but supportive and happy to have met me.

Now, I can either choose to believe these people were being so nice to me out of sympathy or I can believe they really like me and appreciate me for who I am and not for what happened to me. 

I choose to believe the latter.

And while I’m still getting accustomed to this whole new spotlight, I know I’ll be able to handle it as long as I’m holding Corpse’s hand in the process. All I need is to have him beside me and I’m prepared to tackle anything.

“They love you.“ Corpse tells me once the stream is done and we’ve hopped out of the Discord call, “But I love you more.“

His arms wrap around my waist while mine instinctively find their way around his neck, “I love them, too. But they’re at the number 2 spot.”

He smirks at me, “I wonder who’s at number 1.”

I push up on my toes, putting my lips an inch away from his, “Hmm, I wonder...”

He doesn’t let me finish, silencing my teasing with a sweet, loving kiss.

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