#It was so hard to convince one of the teachers that it wasn't me and that I genuinely don't know what it was about

[cuddleprofiler]

STITCHES — When you save Aaron and land in the hospital.

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader, BAU x platonic!reader

Genre: Fluff, Whump & bickering

Warning: Kidnapping, getting shot, daddy issues (tell me if I missed any)

Word Count: 6k

A/N: Even if it's 3rd Nov officially here but I wrote this for Hotch's bday. It's not based around bday but I couldn't get an idea for that, so....Positive criticism is welcomed.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY AARON HOTCHNER

“Y/L/N.”

“Y/L/N. Wake up.”

You heard a displeased sound, but all you could see was darkness.

“Y/N. Wake up!”

You heard the sound again.

“Y/N, as much as I would have wanted to let you sleep, this is not the situation.”

What is he talking about? Oh! Wait a minute. Who is he?

You tried to open your eyes, but it felt as if you had just returned from an exhausting shopping spree, stuffed to the brim and struggling to wake up. But that wasn't the case; there was no time for shopping now.

Your attention drifted to the sensation of someone's fingers wrapped around yours, pressing gently. The pressure wasn't hard, but it was enough to pull you from the depths of your subconscious, urging you to wake up and resist the temptation to whine for “five more minutes.” Suddenly, the memory of what happened rushed back, and your eyes flew open as if you hadn't been trying to wake up at all.

You glanced around frantically. The scene was tilted at an odd angle; everything seemed askew. That’s when you felt something—or rather, someone—shift beneath your head. 

As soon as you attempted to move, you were hit with the familiar ache of someone who had just completed their first day at the gym.

“Y/L/N! Y/N! Calm down, calm down,” Hotch urged in his ever-composed voice.

Your eyes locked onto his warm, chocolate-brown ones, filled with care and concern. His irises darted left and right, never leaving yours, even for a moment.

Your gaze then fell on your wrists, turning red from the ropes being tied too tightly around them. But that wasn’t what was important. What was important was the fact that your right wrist was tied to his left, and his right was tied to your left.

“Who ties hands this way?” you exclaimed, looking up at Hotch with the innocent curiosity of a child in kindergarten, eagerly seeking answers from a teacher who loomed over you.

“I think it’s part of the ritual they perform before disposing of their victims. They want to create an emotional connection before they end their lives by manipulating them.”

You nodded in understanding, trying to focus your vision, blinking several times to clear the fog from your eyes. Suddenly, everything faded to black.

When you came to again, your head rested on Hotch’s shoulder, and both of your hands lay haphazardly on your thighs.

“It’s a symptom of the drug—losing consciousness for a few minutes,” he said.

“You let them drug me?” you questioned, a hint of disbelief creeping into your voice, sure that he would protect you.

He looked at you in confusion, his expression scrunching up as if you were an alien rather than the agent he had known for months—someone he had never fantasized about(why would you think that?)

“We’re being kept captive,” he said, as if he were reminding you.

“We're kidnapped.”

“You could say that.”

“Being formal about this doesn’t change anything, Aaron. We are kidnapped,” you insisted, your voice rising as you widened your eyes to look into Hotch’s, which had narrowed as he stared intently at you.

Hotch had never seen you like this. You were usually the one to shy away from confrontation, avoiding discussions as if you were facing a gallows. You would opt out of outings with promises of future plans, crafting convincing lies that most believed—except for Rossi and him, who saw through your facade. He didn’t know you had this fire within you.

“You said this would be safe. We’d go to the party to meet your colleagues and return home soon,” you said, accusation lacing your voice, making Hotch set his eyes on you, anger evident in them.

“Yes, but you also knew the dangers lurking around in the city right now, didn’t you, Y/N/N?”

“But you didn’t put a sign saying ‘idiot’ in front of your name, did you? You have years of experience dealing with danger; you walk around with that stoic ‘I am the boss. Don’t mess with me’ vibe, and you’re saying you didn’t know what you were getting into?”

“Like you knew what you were getting into? You came in with roses to propose that day, right before I was leaving, with your enchanting face and beautiful wide eyes. Yet none of those things told me about your lack of common sense and respect.”

“Oh, please! Like you have a lot of common sense. You know what? You should drink your coffee with some sugar. Maybe it will help sweeten your bitter tongue.”

“Yeah, like the amount of sweets you consume did yours?”

“Don’t go after my sweets.”

“Then don’t comment on my coffee.”

“Then what should I comment on? Huh? How you can’t keep your hair in place? Seriously, how do those strands keep falling on your forehead?” Your gaze drifted toward the way his hair fell, then back to his eyes, and finally to his lips.

He noticed where your eyes wandered but kept his expression neutral. By “neutral,” he meant hiding how his heart plummeted at the brief longing in your gaze.

“Y/N, have some dignity when it comes to my hair. You use serum to tame the jungle of your morning madness and keep it presentable throughout the day.”

Your train of thought was interrupted by Hotch’s unexpected remark. For a brief moment, your eyes met his, a spark of connection flickering before you both returned to the weight of the situation.

How does he know I wake up with a jungle for hair?

Your mind wandered back to the other day when you were telling the girls about this, who then suggested you get some hair products while Hotch and Rossi walked by.

He remembers such trivial things about me.

Stop it! He’s a profiler. It’s in his nature to remember things about people. Don’t flatter yourself, Y/N.

The team had profiled the unsubs to be from the upper class; they had the means to enter these sorts of parties without striking to anyone as odd. The way the victims were disposed of spoke about the unsubs being used to ostentation without meaning to, fitting into the norms of upper-class society.

You and Hotch knew you would be abducted. It was part of the plan; you basically set the stage to lure the unsubs in. Initially, you and Hotch were reluctant to go—more you than him because you found him attractive. You were sure you wouldn’t be able to take your eyes off him the whole night, especially as the people at elite parties dressed to the nines, and you were sure the way the whole team was looking at you would make you drool all night. You pressed your lips together, trying to stop yourself from imagining your handsome boss in a tight shirt, flexing his arms, showing off his muscles.

No, no, no! There’s no way I would be able to focus on catching the unsub.

However, none of them accepted your “no”—not even Hotch. He told you how you would be the perfect choice, seeing the pattern of female victims remained the same—one that you would fit. He turned you slightly toward himself by your shoulders, looking you right in the eye, promising that nothing would go wrong and that he would be there the whole time with you. Promise!

What you didn’t know was that they would hurt you to make you comply. The female victims had fought back; you would have to do the same. But none had been hit in the head—either they weren’t, or you were the unfortunate one. If so, the coroner made a grave mistake, and you would deal with him when you got out of here because your head was pounding like crazy. You were sure you had at least a mild concussion

You and Hotch had strategized in his hotel room the previous night, reviewing case files and delving into the plan to demonstrate a temper akin to that of the unsub and to display behavior contrary to the victims.

“What if we don’t show fear?” you suggested.

He raised an eyebrow, and seeing his expression made you gulp. You hadn’t thought much before speaking; it was a bad habit, but sometimes you couldn’t help yourself.

“Elaborate,” he prompted.

When he nodded, you continued, speaking slowly to avoid waking the sleeping bear that resided within Hotch—the one that got angry and lectured people. 

“So what if we show other emotions? Throw them off? They’re organized and live for perfection. Fear is part of the torture they perform, but they won’t be able to if we don’t let things go their way.”

“What do you suggest we do?” 

He seemed impressed, his tone hinting at approval. You looked down to hide your blush, and as you pondered your next idea, you began pacing the floor while Hotch sat in his chair. After a while, he realized it had been too long since you started pacing and opened his mouth to stop you.

“Argue!”

Hotch widened his eyes in disbelief. “You want us to argue while we’re kidnapped?”

“Yeah!”

He was trying to match your enthusiasm, but he struggled to comprehend your willingness to argue with him—let alone with anyone. “Are you sure?”

You turned to him, feeling a seed of insecurity beginning to take root. “I think the idea could work well, sir. However, there’s a chance it won’t be effective with me. You can choose someone else from the team if you’d like.”

He immediately recognized that he had done a poor job of reassuring you. “I want you to be there. With me.”

“Are you really su—?”

“I am, Y/N. We will go to the ball and execute the plan.”

You nodded your head, without any further arguments. He used anyone's first name on the team only when he was quite serious.

Before you could speak again, one of the unsubs struck both of you, causing you to flinch in pain.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?” one of them yelled, his brows knitted in frustration. 

If anyone asked them, they would surely return the two chuckleheads they had kidnapped. You two were effectively ruining their game.

“All of the previous ones shivered in fear before us, begged us to spare their lives, but you two are… bickering?” He toyed with the knife in his hands—the same knife you suspected had been used to stab the female victims multiple times. Stuffing down the feeling of emptiness inside, you forced a sweet smile.

“See, first of all, we were arguing, not bickering,” you huffed, feigning annoyance at their mislabeling rather than genuine fear.

Things I do for this job!

“Exactly. And what are you saying about fear? Try living with this woman—she's a walking nightmare!”

He means dream, actually.

You gasped. “YEAH! You didn’t see the nightmare when you happily accepted my proposal. Oh! Or at the altar?”

“If I had, I wouldn’t be here, wearing the ring, would I?” he retorted, giving you a fake smile—more mocking than sincere.

The team had taken care of the rings for the whole undercover mission and made you guys wear them in front of them.You closed your eyes slightly, suddenly remembering the embarrassment of that moment, the heat rising in your cheeks.

The way your cheeks were turning red, Hotch was glad this was a mission and he was not actually married to you; otherwise, he would never be allowed to set foot in the house after the stunt he just pulled. He was definitely sure of that. You were clenching your fists. He wondered whether they were for beating him up or controlling your anger.Your eyes betrayed your frustration, the one you were trying to hide.

She’s a wonderful actor.

“I’m telling you, Aaron. Shut up!”

The way your name rolled off your tongue sounded so soft and fluffy that he could hardly believe it. He knew his heart would ache when you went back to Hotch. He pursed his lips.

“You always complain about me not giving you enough time,” you said, your voice harsh. He nodded in acknowledgment.

You and Hotch could see the team surrounding the room, clad in FBI vests with guns trained on the unsubs. When you glanced at Hotch, he signaled for you to proceed with the plan.

He knew it was risky, but it was a solid strategy to shock them. You were against it. Your face had turned horrified the night before when he explained his plan. It felt as if he had promised you paradise and then snatched it away. You were hesitant at first; he understood, but eventually, you warmed up to the idea.

“Tell me, why should I make time for you when you're always busy at the FBI? In your office, having an affair with your case files,” you said, your tone dripping with feigned anger.

“Like you aren’t in the office, working so hard that you don’t even remember your husband works in the same place.”

Your heart stopped for a moment. You mentally squealed at his use of the term ‘husband.’

How much I wish it were real!

“Wait, what?” one of the unsubs asked, his voice filled with disbelief.

“What?”

“What did you guys just say?” His tone was low, likely from the shock of realizing he had kidnapped two FBI agents.

“You’re FBI?”

“From everything we’ve said, that’s what you gathered?”

As the realization hit him and he raised his gun to shoot you and Hotch, Morgan and Emily barreled into the room, swiftly disarming them. Thus, ending your and Hotch’s plight.

“You know, for being a parent, you are quite adventurous.” You said to Hotch as you walked down the stairs, who in turn moved his head toward you. You were so close that one move and your noses would touch.  

“What can I say? Being with you brings out my inner talent,” he answered back, continuing the funny banter you had begun.  

You chuckled quietly. “Oh really? Then I probably should tell Garcia about this. She would be really happy for you to try new things.”  

“No. I’m pretty happy that those types of adventures are out of my comfort zone,” he added.  

“Getting kidnapped comes in your arena, huh?”  

“Absolutely,” he let out a laugh.

Lost in the bickering, neither of you noticed anything else. You were so invested in winning and being lost in each other’s eyes that you paid no heed to your surroundings.  

The team and the detectives were searching the place for any other evidence or things that needed their attention. Hotch, being the boss, should have been there. He knew that. You knew that, but neither of you made any attempt to move, staying in your place and bickering like an old married couple.

Unbeknownst to you, the hours spent in captivity had forced you out of your comfort zone with him. You were trying to retreat back to your ‘before-you’ self, but it was proving to be a challenge. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it. Hotch was grappling with similar feelings.  

He didn't interact like this with anyone on the team, except Dave, but he had known him before he became Unit Head. When he transitioned from prosecutor to agent and had a wonderful life—not the broken one like now—Dave had been a part of that life. It was easier to share things with the man who had seen him evolve into the man he was today. He would always understand where he was coming from.  

On the other hand, the others were too young to be burdened with his matters. They didn't know much about him, and it would be foolish to share too much with them. However, you were the exception.

Suddenly, your gaze landed on a figure at the top of the stairs, his finger poised on the trigger. You instinctively pushed Hotch aside, but you couldn’t move yourself.  

Though you had some inkling of what was happening, you felt no pain. Instead, you saw shadows moving around you, felt a shove, and then you were falling, like a ragdoll.  

For a fleeting moment, an unfamiliar fluttering stirred in your stomach—not the kind that came for him, but something more alarming.  

What the hell? Why does it hurt?  

You closed your eyes, wishing the pain would vanish as if it were a fleeting thought. When you opened them again, you found yourself in someone’s arms, both of you on the ground, the ceiling above seeming impossibly high. Your head rested on his forearm.  

Honestly, it was getting hard to put together what was going on. You closed your eyes again. But soon, someone was patting your cheeks, asking you to wake up!  

Rude! What happened to manners?  

As you opened your eyes to scold the intruder, you were met with the most beautiful brown eyes you had ever seen. Had you been more lucid, you might have noticed the worry and glistening tears in those eyes. You raised your hand to touch Aaron's face, but it felt impossibly far away.  

I need to eat more. I have no energy.  

Aaron caught your hand in his.  

“It's okay, Y/N. It's okay,” he said softly, a tone you had never heard from him before.  

I want to hear his soft voice every day.  

A sharp pressure at your wounds made you gasp. You gripped the person’s wrist, trying to stop him, but he didn’t flinch, continuing to apply pressure. Pain shot through you, relentless and overwhelming.  

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry.”  

He was feeling the pain of getting you shot. One minute, you both were talking, and the next he was on the floor while Reid shot down the assailant.  

Hotch grabbed you instinctively, lowering your hand to keep you safe before you could fall hard. His focus was solely on you, blocking out the chaos around you. Just moments ago, he was teasing you, trying to draw you out, and now he was fighting to keep you with him. He never saw the attack coming, but you had, and you had acted heroically to save him.

This moment shouldn't have happened. He took off his jacket hurriedly.

Your darting eyes and panicking face pulled him out of his train of thoughts—more of a train of depressing thoughts. He clutched your hand, trying to provide some comfort, some sort of… anything to keep you from feeling only numbness. To keep you here.  

Your breathing grew shallow, and he could feel your heartbeat racing beneath his fingertips.  

“Y/N, listen to me. Look at me,” he urged in a firm yet gentle tone, and you complied.  

“Take a deep breath. Copy mine.”  

He guided your hand to his chest, demonstrating as best he could.  

“I know it’s hard. Please, just try,” he said, watching your eyes flutter open and close.

His sole purpose was to comfort you, to ensure you lived. You had to— for the team, for your family, for him.  

He pursed his lips and scanned for the paramedics, who should have been there by now. He fought the urge to shout for them as your blood soaked his clothes at a pace that terrified him.  

Your groans sent a chill through him, a reminder of the stakes.  

How could I have made such a mistake? What did I do?  

Dave appeared as if summoned, taking the jacket from Hotch and applying pressure to your wounds. You winced at the pain, squeezing Dave's wrist to distract yourself.  

“It’s okay, it's okay, it's okay, Y/N. Don't worry. I need to do this. I’m sorry, but it's required.”  

“It hurts,” you said, tears in your eyes.  

“I know, I know, Bambina. I’m sorry.”  

“I’ve called the paramedics. They’re stuck in traffic,” JJ rushed in, her voice laced with frustration.  

“Tell them to hurry!” Hotch snapped.  

“I have, but they said it’s going to take time,” JJ replied, anger and helplessness evident in her tone.  

“It’s okay, JJ,” you said, trying to comfort her despite your own pain.  

Hotch’s mind immediately wandered to Kate. Just how similar the situation was. So much blood had been on the road in New York, and he was trying to stop the bleeding while Kate spoke whatever came to her mind. How he tried and failed! Failed Kate. Failed in protecting you. Today again, he had been placed in a similar situation. However, he wouldn't let you lose your life today.  

“Make it stop, Aaron. Please, please, please.”  

“I’m trying, Y/N.”  

He was sure your cries would forever haunt him. The pleas to save you would plague his mind like how Hayley's death did.  

“Hotch.” He looked at you.  

“What happened?”  you asked him, dazed.

“You were shot.”  

He could see the delirium in your eyes, the blood still flowing, your head tilting to the side. 

“Hey, hey, Y/N. Open your eyes. Keep them open.”  

“You're being mean.”  

“I would rather be mean than let you lose your life, Y/N,” he said in a desperate tone, wanting you to stay conscious until the medics arrived.  

“WHERE ARE THE MEDICS?”  

He yelled, succumbing to his instinct to urge them to hurry. 

“Don't yell, Aaron, please.”  

“Okay, sweetheart. I won't.” Neither of you noticed the slip.  

As sirens wailed in the distance, he gathered you into his arms, pressing his jacket to your wounds, and rushed outside, placing you on the gurney. He relayed the necessary information while clutching your hand, reassuring you both that everything would be alright. It had to be.

He looked down at his hands. Covered in blood—your blood—they were crimson, reminiscent of a child's crayon used for innocent drawings. Yet today, the red staining Hotch's hands and sleeves, which he had dismissed, marked your act of sacrifice to save him. Save him. He chuckled bitterly at the thought.

Why on earth would she save me?

He thought about the numerous times he let someone down in various ways. Hayley always topped the list.  He had ruined the one good thing in his life back then—the thrill of their early relationship.Guilt wrapped around him like a suffocating embrace every time he was away on a case.Not being there with her, even for a day, felt like a punishment.

However, as time flew, he gained more responsibilities, going from being a newbie on the team to being the Unit Chief when Gideon took the teaching job at the Academy. From worrying about not being home for a day, he became worried about how to solve cases and how to tell his wife he wouldn't be there again.

It was a mess. His life was a mess. He was a mess. And you put your life on the line to save the man who didn’t have anything in his life to live for except for his son.

He could feel the coldness of the hospital’s black seats, on which he was adamantly made to sit. While he tried to give a stare, he was no competition for Dave, who just raised an eyebrow in response. 

“How on earth do you plan to help her if you constantly try to land in the hospital, Aaron?”

With an audible sigh, he dropped into the seat beside Garcia, who muttered words that sounded like “She’s going to be okay” and “Don’t worry, Penelope. She’ll come back and confess her love.” Hotch had no idea what she meant.

His eyes drifted toward the operating room. He didn’t know how long he had been staring, lost in thought until he felt a hand resting on his knees. Morgan had placed his hand there, a silent reminder to stop bouncing his legs.

“She’ll be alright,” Spencer said, his voice filled with such conviction that it ignited a flicker of hope in Hotch’s heart, warming the void that had settled since he had held you in his arms, your blood and life slowly leaving your body.

He was struck by how quickly you had integrated into the team, despite having joined not long ago.

He couldn't help but reminisce about the first time you entered the bullpen. He always laughed at that memory. You looked like a child who had entered their favorite toy shop, looking around in the hope of buying the whole shop, even if it was impossible. He could see the way your eyes lit up at every scene they captured.

He concluded that it was probably due to being in the BAU, chalking it up to your dream. If you had such wide, radiant eyes at the prospect of meeting unsubs, then he needed to order an evaluation, stat.

Lost in thought, he didn't realize when he stopped and was basically in your path until you bumped into him and jumped two feet back as if you had just been electrocuted. Maybe you did, because he felt a spark through his body when you made contact. He shook his head slightly, hoping not to be noticed, and focused on your apologizing self.

“I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“I didn't see you there, Sir. I was—”

“No worries, Agent. It happens,” he reassured, sensing your anxiety and hoping to quell the panic rising in you.

He didn't know why, but the way you reacted stuck with him. As time went on, he couldn't help but notice how you reacted to things. It was rather wrong of him to profile you, but after being on this job for so long, he did it naturally. He sensed that your fidgeting stemmed from some past trauma, a lingering shadow you carried.

Once, Garcia and Reid came into the office, looking downright nervous.

“Sir, we want to ask you something, and we don't know if you’re gonna get upset, but we need to ask. We don’t mean it in a negative way—”

“Yeah, it’s just we’ve noticed things and thought we should clarify. We know you couldn’t do it, but—”

“What is it?” Hotch asked, hoping to get them out of the awkward situation they had placed themselves in.

“Have you said something to Y/N?”

“In what context?” He didn't know where this was going. He talked to you about many things—from cases to asking about your mental health to your godson’s picture, which you kept on your desk, and whose soccer game you attended where you met Aaron—and he knew they could be talking about anything.

“Sir, we’ve seen the way she fumbles and the constant fidgeting with her bracelet. So, we thought you had scared my new favorite pookie,” she said, now herself looking scared to stand in front of her boss.

“No, I didn’t, Garcia and Reid,” he said, addressing the genius as well, who looked at him with fear, the expression screaming, If you scare my friend, I won’t leave you. “I am not aware of the reason she does it, but I’m pretty sure I’m not behind it.”

At that moment, the reason for your anxiety walked onto the floor, flanked by a cadre of guards. He was a significant figure, an employer who provided for many—but to you, he was the man responsible for your fear.

“Agent Y/N Y/L/N?” the doctor called out.

“Yes.” The answer came in unison, and the team exchanged glances as Hotch stepped forward.

“The operation was successful. We’ll keep her under observation for a few days, but she’s going to make a full recovery.”

They sighed in relief at the news and thanked the doctor, who walked away smiling. Hotch felt his knees ready to collapse with the sheer amount of relief he experienced. He shuddered, thinking of everything that had happened during the last few hours. Hearing the news about you brought a smile to his face. His professionalism faded into something more intimate, a shared feeling of happiness growing inside his chest at the thought of you being okay again.

Suddenly, a commotion drew their attention—doctors, senior staff, arriving to greet a man Hotch didn’t recognize.

“She’s doing okay now. The bullets went through, but we repaired the damage. She’ll be just fine,” one of the doctors assured.

Then the gruff voice reached him. “Are you SSA Aaron Hotchner?”

“Yes.”

“I’m Arthur Y/L/N, Y/N’s father.”

“Hello, sir.” Hotch extended a firm handshake.

“And I assume this is the team, right?”

Everyone either nodded their heads or, in some cases, gave a little wave. However, the common factor was that they all looked confused.

“None of you got injured?” he demanded.

Hotch maintained his stoic demeanor while Emily replied, “No, sir.”

Arthur snorted. “Shows Y/N’s incompetence, doesn’t it?”

The team stiffened, sensing the tension. Hotch narrowed his eyes. “Excuse me?”

“I know, I know. She isn’t cut out for this agent thing. I’ve known her since she was a child. I know her capabilities.”

Morgan and Reid exchanged incredulous glances, fully aware of your remarkable capabilities in fighting, learning, and prioritizing. Rossi shot them a warning glance, suppressing the urge to confront the man standing before them.

Hotch opened his mouth to respond, but the audacity of Arthur Y/L/N cut him off, allowing the tirade to continue.

“Her decision-making ability was nonexistent from the very beginning. If I hadn’t guided her, she wouldn’t have even finished her studies—she’d probably be stuck with a GED or something. I know, Agent Hotchner, it takes a great deal of skill to thrive in this field.”

No, you don’t, Hotch thought, anger simmering beneath his calm exterior.

Mr. Arthur Y/L/N sighed as if he couldn’t help but stop, having so much to say but not wanting to expose his problem child.

“I hope, Agent Hotchner, you make the right decision now. You’ve seen how she ended up in the hospital. What good could it do for her to stay? If she leaves the FBI, your headache would vanish. I have my son handling my business right now—he could do something for her.”

Listening to him talk about you—a friend, a daughter figure, perhaps even a future lover—filled everyone with rage, yet no one dared to speak. They knew Hotch would take care of it; he didn’t need their help.

“Listen, Mr. Y/L/N. Y/N is the most hardworking and dedicated agent I’ve ever encountered. So don’t you dare speak ill of her,” Hotch said, stepping closer, his anger simmering as he examined the features you had inherited from this man. The thought of you living under his shadow sickened him.

“The decision I’m about to make is to have you removed for speaking against a federal agent and trespassing when she doesn’t want you here.”

“How would you know that?” Arthur challenged.

“I’m pretty sure she never contacted you after moving out. You must have people watching her closely; you got here too quickly for someone who wasn’t even contacted. By the way, I just remembered—you aren’t her emergency contact.”

Hotch was. A fact he was pretty joyful and grateful about, despite how he felt he had broken your trust.

“A father having his daughter trailed just to know about her speaks volumes. Do you know she’s afraid to speak because she doesn’t want to be a bother, doesn’t want to be scolded just because you used to talk to her like that? She cut all contact with you so she wouldn’t have to be near you, so it would be best if you leave before I take drastic measures.” His voice rose, startling Garcia.

Now, everything fell into place for everyone in the room, and their hearts broke.

How could a father be like this?

They had encountered many men like Arthur, but they had hoped that beneath your caring exterior lay a loving family—something none of them had ever known. But they forgot that none of them had any chance of that; otherwise, they wouldn’t be in the BAU.

“Jack is lucky to have you as his father.” Your comment now made more sense in Hotch’s mind.

“She’s just another agent to you. You can dispose of her. No need to make a fuss,” Arthur continued with a crooked smile.

“She’s not an item you can dispose of. She’s a person, an individual. She’s special to many people.”

“Oh yeah? Who is she important to? To you?”

“Yes. And if I ever see you near her without her permission, I won’t hesitate to get a restraining order. I’m letting you off this time because you’re her father.”

“I will end your career, Agent Hotchner,” Arthur threatened, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“Try your best.” Hotch turned and walked toward your room, leaving Arthur to simmer in his anger.

“What a pretty face to wake upto.” you said, making him move his head from the window he had been looking out of, thinking about your father. You looked at him with a soft smile.

As you offered the compliment, Hotch felt an unexpected warmth flood his cheeks, a rare blush creeping up beneath his usually stoic demeanour. His heart quickened, betraying the calm facade he so often maintained.

It was a warmth that contrasted sharply with the wan smile Arthur had worn. Hotch felt a surge of protectiveness.  Hotch was sure he would have done something if your father hadn’t left quietly. However, he was certain of one thing: he wouldn’t have regretted it. He would never regret standing up for any of his teammates—especially not for you. Hotch smiled softly.Yes, you bore a resemblance to your father, but you radiated warmth and humanity that set you apart. And you had a very pretty smile.

When you finally woke up, it felt surreal. Before you sat the man of your dreams, the one who had invaded your thoughts for months.

I know I have a crush on you, but geez! Stay out of my dreams!

You squinted at him, still dazed.

“Was he here?”

“Who?” Hotch feigned ignorance, but you shot him a look that he recognized as one Dave had taught you.

“How do you know?”

As far as he knew, no one except the medical staff had been in your room.

“Your face. I have a talent for reading expressions, especially yours.”

“Seriously?”

“No. The nurse mentioned you argued with him earlier.”

“I’m sorry for—”

“Don’t. You did me a favor, Aaron.”

“Wow! Your name sounds nice,” you mumbled, and Hotch felt his heart swell. He knew the medication had you loopy, but he was genuinely flattered.

“Then also—”

“Shhh. Just listen. I would have fought him too.”

Your gaze held his, and he felt the weight of everything between you—the unspoken connection, the shared warmth. His usually stoic expression softened as he grasped your hand.

“You’re not alone anymore, Y/N. I’m here for you.” He smiled, and you returned it, a spark igniting in the air between you. For the first time in a long while, there was hope.

From the doorway, the rest of the team watched, unable to tear their eyes away from the chemistry crackling between you and Hotch. It was a warmth that cut through the sterile chill of the hospital, a bond forged in adversity.

“What just happened?” Prentiss whispered.

“I believe we just witnessed the start of a love story,” Rossi replied with a knowing smirk.

“Bossman is in love,” Morgan added, grinning.

“Well, it’s better than watching them steal glances at each other and be awkward,” JJ said, smiling at the prospect.

“Actually, it’s going to be more. They’re bound to evolve into more affectionate gestures,” Reid chimed in.

“Nooo. It’ll be cringeworthy, but the blackmail potential would be priceless,” Morgan teased.

“Oh my! We can use this for their wedding speech!” Garcia exclaimed.

“Wedding?” Rossi raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, maybe we’re getting ahead of ourselves,” JJ admitted.

“Yeah, probably they won’t even start dating anytime soon,” Prentiss added.

“You haven’t been in love, Em. I’m telling you, they’re going to get married soon,” Garcia insisted.

But in that moment, as Hotch stood by your bedside, he felt the flicker of hope—perhaps even love—beginning to ignite in the space between you. A new chapter was unfolding, filled with promise, support, and a chance for happiness.

[queenie-the-court-jester]

that isn't very holy of you :/

Yandere church boy x gn!reader

It came out shittier than I hoped for. Not proofread 🌺 I'll fix this when I have the time

Tw: religious themes, noncon mention, minor cult mention

✝️ you had just arrived in the small town of morning star. Having been needing a break from the city life, you rented a one bedroom cabin close by. Planning on staying here for a month, you quickly headed towards your new home, very eager to start exploring the area

✝️ wandering around the town square, it seemed everyone knew eachother. A family like community perhaps? Maybe that's why they all kept staring at you as passed through, must not be use to new faces

✝️that was until a group of children approached, asking you to come play ball with them. You couldn't say no to their puppy dog eyes, and the adult's judgemental stares so you agreed. And it was fun surprisingly! You noticed none of the children had any phones.. or the grown up's for that matter

✝️your first week there you were unsettled, but you just pushed it off as the townsfolks strange behavior, Focusing on unpacking and enjoying your stsy. Until one of the school teachers, a kindergarten one, knocked on your door on a sunday

"hi there honey! On behalf of the people I'd like to sincerely apologize for the cold welcome. It's just been a hard year for all of us! So to make it up you, won't you come to church with us on this fine morning?"

✝️ whether or not you're religious yourself, she managed to convince you to come along. Chatting the whole walk there. Talking about her husband, her children. She mentioned something about having a son your age but you weren't really paying attention

✝️ walking through the grand double doors of the church house, she sat you on the front row with the pastors family, next to a young man. You were startled as she sat on the other side of you, leaning in to whisper In Your ear as she pointed at the pastor preaching

"that's my hubby right there. He's a handsome fella ain't he?"

✝️david looked at his mother in disbelief, he told her a few a times he found you attractive and now look at her! He could practically see the gears turning in her head. thankfully you seemed preoccupied thinking, so he did his best to seem normal while his poor heart beated 300 mph

✝️after the sermon, david turned to you and have you a sheepish smile

"hi.. my name's David, but you can call me dave.. its.. nice to meet you"

✝️you and David hit it off, unlike all the other people. He didn't constantly talk about praising god and forcing his religion down your throat. He was kind, understanding. Laughing at your jokes and nodding along to your words. He never met someone so.. ethereal

✝️growing up, he had a hard time believing in his small towns "god". Watching them cut up and sacrifice newcomers to their false idols, he felt sick to the pit of his stomach heading their screams. But he could definitely devote his cause to you...

✝️he trapped you in this shitty town when he asked you out on a little date a few days later. Unaware he drugged your food and dragging you into his home, waking up chained to a bed. You couldn't tell how long you've been there, but every time you'd try to escape he'd punish you in bed. Not letting you cum or overstimulating you to the point of tears. Why would you want to leave something that can make you feel so good?

✝️he grew up desensitized to blood and gore, so he's confused when you're screaming and crying. Why are you doing that? Don't you know that this is what happens to bad spouses? What do you mean you're not married either? ofcourse you are. Stop being so difficult...

✝️nobody blinks an eye when he strides into town with you on a collar and leash. And that's when you realized, you should have left earlier. Because the whole town was sick in the head. It wasn't like you could call for help because he fucking destroyed your electronics and the people don't even have phones. Something about wifi signals can brainwash you

✝️ he's whipped for you, that much you can obviously tell. but he's smarter than he looks. Eating dinner with his family is just painful,since all they talk about is God god god. It hurts your ears with how often they just Randomly start singing praises. It's bad enough they force you to watch their cult church activities...

✝️if you give in to his demands, he'll let you off the leash but you have to stay close by at all times. If you don't, he'll have to make his punishments a little more extreme. There's also a possibility he'll force you to help around the town. whether that be looking after the children or just running around doing errands. The shock bracelet on your ankle stops you from running into the woods..

✝️if you don't, well.. you wouldn't mind if you became permanently handicapped right?

"don't be so difficult sweetie.. just stay still and it'll cut right through okay?'

[fortheb0ys]

FUCK ME LIKE THE MEN BETWEEN THOSE PAGES

Bottom John Price x Top Male Reader

Just Price brain rot🤤 I've always wanted to a model for MLM porn sites ngl so I'm living through this fic🙏 As usual not proofread :)

FEM ALIGNED + MINORS DNI

Prices would be one of those faceless models for those erotic gay romance novels. All his work would be faceless. Just something he did to make money on the side.

It was a secret that was long forgotten. Memories replaced by his military service. His body more scarred than his younger self's. His own books but they were just collecting dust in a box.

When you got together, you had found one of the books Price had forgotten that was on a shelf. Your eyes grew wide as you noiced it was Price's shirtless body on the front cover. A small mole on his left hip was telltale that it was him.

Flipping the book over and reading the synopsis reveals the dirty content of it. All the colour washes from Price's face as he sees what you have in your hand.

Price was about to open his mouth to quickly deny it but saw your giddy excitement. Though Price felt a bit shameful, he told you that there was more. A lot more.

With much hesitation from him and a whole lot more convincing from you, Price lent you the books. His amazing body on every single one of them. A new scar here and there as the

He had been surprised that you never poked fun at him and that you were genuinely interested in his past works.

You'd admit that the sex scenes depicted were the main thing that got you interested. You'd imagine Price vividly as the characters he model on the front covers. It didn't take long for you to read through the lot of them.

When Price would be on deployment, he'd get a text from you.

Cum on the front cover or on the pages. Or others with your erect cock slotted like a bookmark between the pages with the dirtiest scenes, precum dripping onto the sheets.

You'd send worded texts underneath the photo like "Try these with me?" or "What if were we the ones to do this?"

Price hated himself for showing you the books right before the mission, making the wait painfully long.

Sexualy frustrated and slightly pissed he had to wait for his deployment to end, Price would have a lonely wank in his barracks. His fingers didn't feel right. His fantasies never felt like details in the books. Nothing felt like you.

Once he got back, Price had to fight back a boner as the anticipation took over him. He went through countless cigars trying to get his mind on something else. The 141 Boys knew something was up. Soap had to control the intrusive thoughts to ask if you were waiting naked when Price returned home.

Which he wasn't wrong. The moment Price came through that door he was already painfully hard. Before he could even open his mouth to greet you, you were on him like a fly to honey, attacking his neck with bruising kisses. Whispering the dirty dialog from one of the books made Price weak in the knees.

Thus was the beginning of your roleplay sex.

Your playtime is always different. Numerous scenarios with one thing in common: Mind blowing sex.

Price would play a royal guard, and you, the prince. A prince in a loveless engagement to a princess. A guard pleading loyalty as he rides the prince on the royal throne.

A grade slipping college student fucking his teacher in an empty classroom for extra credit. Blowjows underneath desks replaces the outdated method of study and paying attention to lectures.

A hunter who falls in love with a werewolf he's supposed to kill. The wolf is just a dumb puppy who needs to be told what to do. With a collar around his neck, ready to be tugged at and the willingness to please his master, puppy soon becomes skilled at lapping at master's hole.

A rowdy rockstar and his stressed out manager. The musician needing to burn off the adrenaline after the show and the poor management needing the stress fucked out of him. The real show was played backstage. The manager put on quite the proformance, his deep moans sounded much better than your singing.

A sex therapist that prefers to take on a more hands-on approach. That skilled tongue was used more than just giving advice.

Or lastly, a priest beguiled by a gorgeous sinner. Guilt was all he felt but it felt like true heaven. God would forgive any sin if he showed true repentance, right? Wouldn't Jesus have died for nothing if we didn't sin?

Sure, some where terrible written and some were written by women with a fetish for gay men. Seeing you act out the scenes without missing a beat or breaking out into laughter while you quoted the dirtiest and most ridiculous things.

You'd remember every dirty word uttered. Every scenario memorized. Price was starting to understand what those white women on TikTok saw in those fucking books. It was just too bad they couldn't live it out like he could.

[writersblockedx]

Something Inappropriate

Pairing - Professor! Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Summary - When Spencer Reid bumps into one of his students while she's highly intoxicated, he takes it upon himself to get her home safely. Warnings - Student/teacher relationship, drinking, very slight implication of sexual assault Words - 1.9K

A/n - Thinking about making this into a little mini-series so let me know if you like this!

masterlist

It was Friday night and every student was somewhere in town. Groups of them crowding the bar, ordering shots or vodka sodas. Whatever was cheapest and whatever could get them drunk enough.

It just so happened that this certain Friday night, Y/n had gulped on too many drinks. It was barely 1am before she was stumbling to the dance floor, her friend's hand interlocked. Her intoxicated dance was enough to draw some attention. Some men eyeing her in the corner, some more girls wanting to join in and a man she knew at the bar: Professor Spencer Reid. One of her lecturers. Her favourite lecturer in fact.

Y/n didn't really register it in her drunken state until she wandered up to the bar and spotted him closer up. He was sipping on a something with coke, stood beside a man she didn't recognise: broad-shouldered and tough. "Professor?" She called with a sly smile rising to her lips.

Spencer turned: a pleasant surprise. "Y/n, hi, it's good to see you." He returned the smile, observing the girl's obvious drunken state.

"Well, I certainly didn't expect to see you here...no offence." She giggled drunkenly. Her professor was, obviously, much older. He seemed the type to enjoy a book on a Friday night - not a bar.

Spencer pointed to the man next to him, "It's erm- Morgan dragged me here." Said man turned to face Y/n, a cheeky glint already settled in his eye.

"Are you one of the doctor's students, hm?" He asked.

"I am," She answered, "Do you work at BAU too?"

Morgan shook his head, "Used to."

"Well, it was nice bumping into you both," She sent them a final smile, "See you Monday morning, sir." She directed such at Spencer before turning to face the bartender who was awaiting to take her order.

And once she grasped it, returning to her friends with a stumble in her steps, Morgan glanced back at Reid. The boy knew Morgan long enough to know what was coming: what that glint in his eyes meant. "She's interesting," He commented, observing Spencer. "Maybe I need to switch career paths."

Spencer swallowed hard on his drink, "She's my student, Morgan." The other man only shrugged at such response; nothing in the sensual sense ever seemed off-putting to Morgan. But Spencer, well he had many lines he had yet to cross. And Y/n was one of them.

His eyes gazed over to the girl who was giggling at something one of her friends had said. She was beautiful - she would give Morgan that. But, as much as that was the case, a relationship further than academic would be... inappropriate. No matter what Spencer might have thought about the girl. Even now, as he glanced at her from afar, she seemed nothing but carefree, captivating, alluring. And he couldn't let his mind go there.

An hour or so had passed when Spencer finally convinced Morgan that they should go home. He wandered outside, making sure Morgan got into his taxi all right before the front door to the bar swung open. Y/n stepped out, attempting to grasp a single cigarette from the packet. She had yet to notice her professor watching her. Once she had one between her fingertips, another challenge arrived: lightening it.

"Need some help there?" Spencer wandered up to her, shoving his hand into his trouser pockets.

If she were sober, she probably would have stopped what she was doing. Smoking in front of one of her preferred professors wasn't exactly the view she wanted to give. "Erm- I-" She sighed, giving in and handing the lighter over to Spencer, "Yes."

He took it, creating a block from the wind with one hand and letting the fire ignite before the girl was able to inhale the smoke into her lungs. "Thanks," She muttered before he took a step away.

"You shouldn't smoke you know," He could go on a ramble - but he wouldn't.

She shrugged, "I know, I just- I can't find my friends, I don't know where they've gone." She explained. "I thought they might be out here."

Spencer looked around the pavement they were standing on: deserted. "But?"

"But, they're not." She huffed as the smoke exhaled from her lips. She stumbled as she took a step, "I think- I think they went to some club." Her head banged - it was all beginning to become blurred.

And at her words, Spencer's concern intensified. "And they left you here?" He questioned.

Her eyes fell to the floor as she attempted to think, "I didn't want to go." She told him. "I shouldn't be- I can't-"

Before she could get out her drunken slurs, a hand came to her shoulder, "Do you have a way home?"

Y/n found herself effortlessly staring into the gaze of her behavioural analyst professor. "I erm- I walk." She answered him as if he had willed the very words from her lips.

Spencer decided then and there; he wasn't having this. If not for the very feeling inside him that compelled him to take care of her, it was the fact she was a young girl walking alone at night. Quite frankly, he taught some of the men at this college - he didn't trust them. "Come on," He spoke as he wandered over to his car.

Yet, Y/n stayed where she was, "What?" She couldn't even think this was a possibility.

"I'll drive you home," He said as he stopped, just by the driver's door. "Don't worry, I've only had two drinks. I just want to make sure you get home safe."

She shook her head. As tempting as a drive home with her attractive professor was, she couldn't possibly. "I'm fine, honestly-" She took a step, tripping on her own two feet.

Luckily, Spencer caught her before her face hit the stone concrete. Her fingers gripped his wrists as he took a hold of her. They didn't let go - not straight away. A moment passed as Y/n raised her head as to meet her professor's gaze. "What were you saying again?" He made the point of making.

She let go and straightened her back, "Are you sure don't mind?"

His smile became one of empathy, "I'd rather do this than wonder what could happen to you alone."

And so, without another thought, she slipped into the passenger seat of Spencer's car. A part of her wanted to be home, wanted to be in her bed. The other, however, liked the idea of being here...with him. "It's erm, Rose court, the student accom." She informed. "It's probably only a five-minute drive."

Spencer thought about making the point that even if it was an hour's drive, he would have made it at that very moment. He wanted her safe. Maybe because she was a brilliant student, maybe because he was concerned, or maybe because something else was urging his actions. Something of which the man had had a conscious decision to push to the side.

Though, even in a five-minute drive, Y/n had been lulled into sleep. The safety of someone she knew, the comfort of the leather car seat and the way the drinks had made her drowsy. Her eyelids had grown heavy and she didn't put up a fight against it. 

When the car engine stopped, Spencer looked over at her. For a few seconds, he thought about not waking her. She was so peaceful, tranquil, with no worries, nothing but her own dreams. "Y/n," He whispered. Nothing. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, "Y/n, hey, we're here."

Slowly, her eyelids started to flutter open and she found her view of her professor. It was all real. It wasn't just an intoxicated dream. "Sorry," She murmured in response.

"It's fine, don't worry about it," He spoke before exiting the car and going round as to open the passenger door for the girl. "Are you okay to walk?"

She slipped her legs out, "I'm fine yeah."

Famous last words.

The moment her heels hit the concrete pavement, she wobbled right into Spencer's hold. "Okay, I'll walk you up to your room." He decided then and there, without even consulting the girl on such.

"I can walk up to my room, professor." She argued.

But all she was met with was a raised brow of uncertainty, "You can't get out of the car without falling. How do you think stairs are going to go?" That was something she chose not to argue with.

She started wandering up to the first door, searching through her bag for the keys. She swayed until she felt an arm wrap around her waist. Her body steadied. Her eyes found Spencer again. The subtle touch was making even her drunken, confident self nervous. "Is this okay?" He checked when he observed her unsure body language.

The girl swallowed, "Hmh." And then she looked away, finally grasping her keys.

Spencer watched as she stumbled over to the door, not daring to let his touch leave the girl. She slipped the key into the door and they were over the first hurdle. And then, stairs. "Let's go slow, okay?" Spencer soothed her through.

She gave nothing but an incoherent nod as she followed Spencer's steps. "Which one is it?" He questioned.

Y/n was pointing to a door across from the stairs, "B..B35." She informed as Spencer guided her to the door and she started looking for the apartment door key. "I've got it...somewhere." In the midst of her search, a thought came to mind. Her movement stopped and she glanced up over at Spencer, "Can I ask you something actually? While I'm, you know, erm-"

"Drunk?" Spencer chuckled as he finished her sentence.

"I mean, yeah." She couldn't deny such a fact. "I mean, I always wondered why you left the BAU? You always talk about it in lectures and it just- you talked about it with a lot of love." Spencer's smile faltered at the thought of nostalgic memories. "Sorry, if that's intruding, I just, I-"

"No, no, it's fine," Spencer's words were quick to ease the girl's worrisome thoughts. "I suppose I needed a break, a lot of things happened, I needed time away from the field to process them I guess." He explained, wondering if the girl would even remember any of this by the morning. Would she even know who dropped her off home?

She hummed, "Makes sense I guess." And like that, with no judgement or opinion, she went back to find her apartment key. "Here,"

Y/n swung the door open to her dorm, "Are you sure you're going to be alright?" Spencer checked.

"I think I can just about make it to my bed," She joked as she leaned against the doorframe. "Thank you, by the way." He didn't have to do what he did. Most professors wouldn't have done. But he, he was different.

His hands found their way back into the deep depths of his pockets as he replied, "I don't just have a responsibility to teach, but also a duty of care, I'm always here to make sure you're okay."

And he would be. For her, definitely. There was something ever so alluring about the girl. Something he would force himself to ignore. Something he wouldn't act on. Something which was inappropriate. 

[kiame-sama]

Do you think we can get a pt 2 to the yandere Lilia fic? I am honestly so starved for Lilia content and that one made me laugh really hard :)))

What Are You, Twelve? (Yan!Lilia x Reader) Pt 2.

(Part of what makes this funnier for me is the fact that Lilia is taller than me, but because he ACTS so mischievous and young it is easy to still assume he is a child despite his height)

Warnings; reader is 18+ but believes Lilia to be 12, the power of disbelief is unending, yandere behavior, Lilia refuses to quit, yandere temper, lilia is a patient yandere but his patience wears thin,

*Magi-shop; what I think Photoshop would be called in Twisted Wonderland

~~~~~~~~

You'll have to believe him now. Surely you couldn't continue to believe he was a child with all the evidence presented to you. He would get over the laughter from the others soon enough so long as he could get the one he craved in his grasp. There were many things the old Fae planned to do with the object of his affections and obsessions once he got his hands on you, but for now he needed you to understand him completely.

He knew you may try to reject him more harshly when you finally understand his true age, but he planned to deal with that when it came. Still, Lilia would have you one way or another and soon enough that frustratingly persistent laughter would end. Every time he tried to proposition you for a quick tryst with him, you rejected him with another quip about his assumed age and another bout of snickering would erupt from around him. That laughter wasn't going to keep up when he finally had you wrapped around his arm.

Lilia could deal with many things, from other students teasing him and his endless struggle for affection, even to the little names other students gave him. He would be lying if he said he didn't react violently to the teasing of Floyd recently, the miniscule name the eel appointed to Lilia pushing his temper just a bit too far. Still, just one face punched versus the slaughter Lilia could enact was quite good all things considered.

Silver had obeyed Lilia's request and showed you an entire photo album of his infancy despite his absolute embarrassment with the situation. He was dubious about helping his father hook-up with one of his classmates, but he did want his father to be happy in life and you certainly made Lilia happy. You hadn't shown any facial reaction to the photos so Lilia had hope you believed Silver, but his hopes were dashed as you let out an unimpressed sigh.

"Magi-shop* exists in Twisted Wonderland, you could have just edited the photos and printed them out. I refuse to be tricked by all this."

You couldn't possibly be serious- okay, he was going to have to try another avenue.

Lilia had tried many things to convince you. From pontificating and showing off his vast historical knowledge in Trein's class- which he conveniently shared with you- to flaunting his prowess in potions. He technically was in other classes, but he decided to just join you for your classes and the teachers exasperatedly allowed it. That in no way meant any of the staff would help Lilia in his endless cause to convince you. He already tried those avenues and got scolded promptly by the teachers about being his age and pursuing a bright young student. Sure, you were an adult by human standards, but so was Leona, and Vil, and Cater, and Malleus. Wasn't he a student too, technically?

If anything, your assumption of his age was the only hang-up he could see getting in the way of establishing a relationship with you. He was hoping that as soon as he got you to understand, you would be willing to move forward in a relationship with him. Lilia was willing to put you under the effects of a love potion or one of his own spells if you insisted on arguing with him even after he got you to understand. The more you tried to distance yourself from the elder Fae, the more he craved your attention and presence.

It was currently a matter of pride for him to make you understand his age before he finally got to have you. He could just slip you a love potion and be done with it, but he needed you to understand just what kind of creature you have gained the attention of. As innocent to the cruelty of the world as you were, Lilia needed you to know the full gravity of having an elder Fae interested in you. Children of man didn't often gain the affections of a fae such as himself, so he wanted you to realize how special you were to get his attention the way that you did.

"Father, they didn't believe me."

"Of course they didn't. My sweet (y/n), such a stubborn child of man. I'll have those thighs smothering me soon enough."

"... I don't wish to hear these things, Father."

[rip-quizilla]

While in This World

Logan Howlett (Wolverine) X Teacher!Reader

Summary: A purely self-indulgent one shot where Teacher!Reader and Logan frequent the same bar, and when Logan comforts reader after a rough day at work, they get to know each other a lot better.

WC: 7k

Tags: 18+ SMUT🔥🔥🔥, Reader has female anatomy, p in v sex, creampie, oral sex (f receiving), dom/sub undertones, grumpy/sunshine dynamic, Hozier references, X-Men: Evolution references

Minors DNI. All divider credit goes to @saradika-graphics

Logan only knew two things about you: you were a teacher at the local high school, and you drove a yellow Honda Civic. 

The latter was easy for him to figure out; that car was hard to miss, and whenever he saw it parked outside of Dusty’s when he’d pull up for a pint, he knew you’d be sitting at the bar when he walked in. 

The former, he didn’t even have to ask about for you to tell him. In fact, he never asked you anything, never so much as spoke to you. But did that stop you from talking about whatever happened at work that day? Fuck no. You’d yap about it unprompted every damn time. 

It was like you’d created a game of it. He’d walk into the bar, wearing an expression that clearly says ‘Don’t fucking talk to me’, sit down on the same barstool he always sat at, order a drink… and just when he’d start enjoying the silence you’d start in on him.

“Damn, today was brutal. Was it brutal for you too?”

“Whew! Wednesdays, am I right?”

“Well you look chipper this evening! Good day today?”

He never answered. You knew he would never answer, you just seemed to love ruining his peace and quiet. 

In the face of his silence, you would usually just carry on the conversation alone. You’d tell him about some kid who’d been particularly annoying that day, or a student who’d finally understood a concept you’d been spending weeks trying to teach them. 

You’d ranted to him about how Kash from your second period class never turns in his homework, which drove you nuts because you knew how smart he was. 

You’d told him about Lily, whose essays were some of the best you’ve ever read from a sophomore even though the kid had convinced herself that she hated history. 

You’d vented to him about Lindsey, the math teacher next to your classroom who complained about every little thing- including the students- careless of whether or not they were within earshot. 

…Okay, so maybe Logan knew more than two things about you. Wasn't like he wanted to, though. 

Today, he knew enough about you to be absolutely sure that something was wrong.

He was sitting at the bar, already down to the last couple sips of his drink, and you hadn’t said a word since he’d sat down. Nothing. 

He fought the instinct to look at you so badly, he really did- but he couldn’t help himself. He’d half expected you to be waiting for him to do so, grinning smugly when your prediction proved correct. Instead, when he finally succumbed to the urge to glance at you out of the corner of his eye, all he saw was your profile wearing an expression he had never seen on you before: stern.

He swiftly turned his attention back to his drink when the bartender emerged from the back and wordlessly started pouring Logan another glass of bourbon before going to crack open another beer for you.

“Something stronger, please.” you sighed. The bartender stopped, a beer bottle already held in one hand with an opener poised and ready in the other. “What he’s having is fine.” you added, nodding to Logan’s fresh glass. 

He and the old bartender both raised an eyebrow at you simultaneously. You didn’t usually order ‘strong’. You usually got something bubbly with a perfectly reasonable ABV. 

A second passed before the bartender simply shrugged and did as you asked, exchanging the bottle in his hand for a larger one and pouring you a glass of liquid amber. You sipped it, wincing slightly before taking another. 

Don’t ask. Logan thought, Don’t say a word, you fucking softie-

“Rough day?” Logan mumbled, his voice like sandpaper after barely using it all day. 

Weak-ass, he cursed inwardly.

You didn’t look at him, just nodded. Logan cringed; he wasn’t good at carrying conversations- that was usually your job. You were so good at it, too, he never even participated and still you always carried on completely unphased. He wished you’d at least give him something to work with here.

“Some kid mouth off to you or somethin’?” 

You shook your head and took another sip of bourbon. “No,” you mumbled, “kids were great. Phenomenal, even.” 

Logan exhaled a soft sigh of relief through his nose, fogging the side of his glass. At least you were talking now. He waited silently for you to continue; he knew you had more to say than that. 

“I taught this lesson yesterday…” you paused before chuckling under your breath. “...I think it might have been one of the best I’ve ever taught. The kids got so involved with it, they practically ran the class themselves.”

Logan watched your shoulders sink sullenly as you sighed. “As a way of helping them relate to the issue of race as it was being discussed during the Civil Rights Movement, I printed out articles for them to read about the issue of Mutants’ Rights.”

Logan didn’t let it show on his face, but that was surprising to say the least. The topic of mutants- outside the walls of Charles’ school, of course- was taboo. It was an important issue, yes, but he didn’t expect it to be brought up in classrooms, at least not while it was still in the news.

“I mean, they’re already seeing it on the news- anti-mutant crime is increasing, advocates for mutants’ rights have started earning followings all over the world. They’re already discussing this topic amongst themselves, so why not use it to help them understand that less than a century ago, their grandparents were discussing policies not much different than the policies being debated today?”

Little did you know, mutants’ rights were also being discussed even then. Being discussed in rooms full of important men who had the power to change the future- for the better or for the worst. Logan remembered it well; he'd been alive when those talks had happened.

“So what happened?” Logan asked, before he realized he’d said the words out loud.

You scowled. “Some kid went home and told their parents what they did at school yesterday. Next thing I know, I’m in the principal’s office getting told off about sensitive topics and keeping politics out of the classroom. How can they expect me to teach U.S. History and keep politics out of the classroom? It’s ridiculous!”

Slamming another gulp of whiskey down with a shudder, you seethed and stared at the wooden bartop like you were trying to set it on fire. “And I’m not even angry for my sake. I’m angry for the sake of the mutant kids that go to that school- and I know there’s got to be at least one, I’ve seen the statistics. They aren’t as rare as people want to think they are, and if even one kid in that classroom is a mutant then they’re about to learn they aren’t even allowed to be themselves at their own school.”

Logan was quiet- as per usual- before replying. “They knew that already.”

Your brow crinkled. “What?”

“They already knew they weren’t allowed to be themselves at school.” Logan said. “Hell, a lot of ‘em aren’t even safe enough to be themselves in their own homes. Parents throw their kids out when they learn they’re mutants, happens all the time. I’m sure your statistics showed you that.” 

This was the most Logan had ever spoken to you. You were rapt with attention, clinging to every word as protective fury for all of those uprooted children clenched your fists. Your fingernails dug into the skin of your palms while Logan contemplatively brushed his thumb over the grooves between his knuckles.

“A mutant in this world learns pretty quick that it isn’t safe for them to be themselves. What you just taught them is that not everybody thinks less of them. Not everybody wants them gone.” Logan hadn’t looked at you this whole time, just kept his eyes forward. Now, as he brought his glass to his lips, you saw his hazel eyes glance your way. “You taught them that at the very least, they’re allowed to talk about this shit at all.” 

You blinked. You gulped. You blinked two more times. All the while, Logan’s eyes stayed trained on you.

“Thanks.” you whispered, too stunned that he had just comforted you to say anything else. 

An awkward sort of silence settled between the two of you. Normally, silence was difficult for you to sit with; you felt this compulsive need to fill the quiet with words. Now, though, silence felt right. You allowed it into your mind to calm the raging typhoon of resentment toward the bitter world you lived in and instead focus on smaller things. You let the sweet burn of your whiskey warm your insides and trickle down to your nerves. You took deep, mindful breaths through your nose and exhaled through your lips, taking note of the way that the air smelled smoky sitting next to your drinking buddy.

It occurred to you now that you’d never actually learned his name, so you asked him. 

He chuckled, grinning ruefully out the corner of his mouth in a way that made your heart sputter. “You don’t wanna go down that road, kid.”

You smirked, acting a bit more like your usual spunky self. “And what road is that?”

“Knowing about me.”

You threw your head back and cackled. “Wow, you’re really committing to that dark and brooding act, huh?” He shook his head but you caught the glint of a tooth as he smiled into his final sip of bourbon. “Fine, I’ll guess. Josh?”

He raised a single eyebrow at you and said nothing. 

“Not Josh, then. What about Eugene? You look like you could be a Eugene.”

“I am not a Eugene.” He grunted. 

You raised your hands in mock surrender. “Geez, sorry, not a Eugene then.”

He sighed, throwing you a hard sidelong glance before muttering, “It’s Logan.”

“Logan.” You threw back the last of your bourbon and let the taste of it mingle with the feel of his name on your lips. Both burned deliciously. 

“You gonna give me yours?” Logan asked, his voice rough and quiet, like lonely tires on an empty gravel road. 

You held your glass up in the dim lighting, turning it this way and that to admire the way the image of the neon Michelob Ultra sign behind the bar warped when it shined through.

“That depends, are we getting another round?”

We. The word was new to Logan in the context of you and him. He liked the way it sounded on your tongue. 

“Another bourbon?” he asked you.

“Rye this time, please.” you purred. “That bourbon was a little too sweet.”

You were definitely the first to tell him that his drink of choice was too sweet. 

Shaking his head and fighting a grin, Logan ordered two glasses of rye whiskey as you continued telling him about the lesson you’d taught yesterday. 

He noticed a shift in you as you described the way your students had discussed social issues with the fervor of seasoned politicians. He clocked the way your posture straightened and your eyes sparkled when you told him how proud you were of those teenagers in those moments- how it was like they had all been waiting for someone to simply give them permission to discuss the intricacies of their social structure and how little it took for people to turn against each other when standing by their neighbor became something controversial. 

Before you both knew it, hours had ticked past while the two of you sat at that bar. As usual, you did most of the talking, but a crucial change that had set this conversation apart was Logan. This time, his hazel eyes never left yours. He listened- really listened- to every word you said. He’d never taken the time to learn the way your lips always looked like they were about to quirk up into a laughing smile. He’d always thought that you were funny- pretty, too- but he’d never known that when he actually laughed with you, you got this triumphant look in your eyes like making him laugh had been your only goal all along. 

He was noticing a lot of new things tonight- like the tattoo on your upper thigh that only showed when your dress rode up over your crossed legs. He noticed the dimple that appeared when you smiled wide enough. Noticed the looks you threw his way when you finished laughing that made him feel… something. 

By the time you’d both had three rounds of neat whiskey, it was nearly two in the morning. The bartender had given you both sweating glasses of icy water as a silent reminder of closing time. 

“Don’t you have to get up early, teach?” Logan asked as you gulped down your water at a speed he knew would freeze your brain. 

“I do,” you acknowledged, wincing from the passing brain freeze. “...but I’m a natural night owl.”

Logan grinned teasingly. “That’s pretty irresponsible… aren’t teachers supposed to be role models?”

“What can I say,” you shrugged, “I like my whiskey neat and my bed at three.” 

Something in Logan’s eyes darkened then. “Your bed, huh?”

You caught his drift; you were already drifting that way, too. Your knee drifting closer to his as he reached for his wallet. His hand drifting to the small of your back as he walked you out of the bar. Your eyes drifting to his lips while you struggled to maintain eye contact.

That was how Logan ended up slamming you against the front door of your little townhouse at quarter past two in the morning. 

“Fuck-!” you exclaimed, arching against the chipping white paint and gasping at the feel of the cold glass window as the skin of your back prickled. Logan’s hands- large and grasping at the soft material of your sweater- pulled your torso closer to his as his mouth devoured the lingering spice of rye on your lips. 

For a man of few words, he was suddenly louder than anything else- his noises, his touch, his scent, his taste…

“‘Fuck’ what, doll?” He grunted as his lips traveled behind your ear and down your neck, “You never run out of things to talk about, is this all it takes to shut you up?”

“-ngh… That depends, are you trying to shut me up?” Your voice was breathy, blood racing through your veins as his lips teased the skin where your neck met your shoulder. Logan made a noise that sounded almost like a growl just before biting down on your heated flesh, ripping a surprised moan from you that came straight from your core. 

“Nah,” he grumbled into your shoulder, licking the abused spot that would bloom darker tomorrow. “I wanna hear everything.” 

You whimpered. Actually whimpered at the way you could feel his voice rumbling through his chest as his solid pecs pressed against you. Cradling your face in both hands, he brought your gaze to meet his own. The dim porch light shone through the windows just enough that you could make out his smoldering hazel eyes as he brought your lips to his. 

The kiss was tender this time; richly sweet and intentional as he captured a sigh before it even left your mouth. You relaxed into him, melting into the kiss and letting the heat of his touch unravel the tension that still lingered in your muscles from the day’s stress. His hands left your cheeks, caressing down your shoulders and arms until they found your hands and lifted them to encircle his neck and shoulders. He grunted, grabbing your hips before tapping them in a wordless command to jump. Which you did.

With a little hop, you found yourself wrapped around Logan, ankles locked behind his back and his stubbled jawline prickling your fingertips as you held his face and kissed him hard. You mumbled directions into his lips while he maneuvered the two of you through the house until he found your bedroom at last. 

Mere seconds passed before you were practically thrown onto the bed, and you propped yourself up on your elbows to watch as he yanked off his flannel. Your mouth watered at the sight of his arms- not a lightswitch had been flipped since the two of you had entered the house, so the moon remained your only lighting as it filtered in through your gauzy bedroom curtains. Logan was haloed by a bluish, moonlit glow that made him look ethereal as he stood over you in only his jeans and white undershirt. 

Something sparkled under that moonlight… around his neck, you noticed he wore a piece of jewelry that glinted silver. Funny, you thought, he doesn’t seem like the jewelry type. 

You were soon granted an up-close view of it when he crawled over you on the bed. As he leaned in to kiss you again, the cold bite of metal hit your collarbone and you recognized what it belonged to. Dog tags. You made a mental note to ask him about them when you weren’t so preoccupied. 

You gasped suddenly, feeling his hand start to creep up your bare thigh beneath your dress. Your breath hitched in your throat when his warm fingers started to trace the intricate patterns of lace on your panties. 

“Those feel fancy.” Logan’s husky voice whispered into your ear, “Can I see?”

You nodded, eyes blown wide with lust and submission. 

“Talk to me, baby, tell me I can touch them.” he reminded you.

“Yes, you can touch them.”

You could barely see Logan’s face in the dark, but you could tell that he was grinning. His fingers slid into the waistband of your underwear, working them off your hips as he repositioned himself between your legs.

“Good girl.” He purred as he pulled them down your legs and off of you completely. Then you felt him pushing your legs further apart before-

“Holy shit-!” 

One lick up the center of your bare pussy was all it took to rip the expletive from your mouth and reduce your muscles to gelatin. 

“Mmmh..”  Logan’s muffled growl from between your legs sent a wave of pleasure through you, synchronizing with the way his tongue flicked over your clit. You could feel your pussy getting wetter just from hearing him, weeping into his mouth as you unraveled under his ministrations.

Your eyes rolled back with ecstasy as his tongue continued its work- you moaned and arched your back with every lick and every noise he made that sent chilling vibrations through your body. It didn’t take long for you to feel that familiar mounting pleasure rising inch by inch within you.

“Fuck, Logan,” you sighed, “If you keep that up, I’m gonna cum.”

Those were the magic words. Logan looked up at you from between your legs with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat and your walls clench- which he felt, since your admission of how close you were was all he needed to slide two fingers inside of you.

He worked you like it was his full-time job, tongue and fingers working in tandem to pull noises, movements, and delicious pulls of his hair from where your fingers had snaked down to his locks. His fingers drove into you, veins and muscles bulging from his forearm as his tongue circled and flicked your clit at a breakneck pace. 

“Oh fuck,” you gasped, letting overstimulation devour you in waves as you clamped down on his fingers and came hard. “ohfuckohfuckI’m…I’m cumming-!”

It was music to his ears; his fingers kept going, pumping into you and keeping pace with your release. Someone would have to physically rip him away from you to get him to stop before you told him to. It took him a second to register that something wet was dripping down his forearm, and it was you. 

When he finally felt your spasms starting to slow, he gently removed his fingers from your pussy and held his arm up to the light. 

“Damn, baby,” he whispered, his husky voice full of awe and admiration. “Did my fingers make that pussy cry? She needed to cum for me that bad?” 

You watched, wide-eyed and panting as Logan’s tongue caught the bead of your arousal from where it had dripped down to his elbow, all the way up to the tips of his fingers. His eyes closed for a moment as he savored your taste.

“So fucking good…” he sighed, almost to himself, before his hands reached for his belt. “I’ve gotta feel you, baby, you have a condom?” 

You nodded, reaching for your bedside table. You knew you still had some in there, but you’d bought them what seemed like ages ago- you hadn’t brought anyone to your bed in quite some time. 

Feeling around in the nightstand drawer, you finally found the box of condoms… and the single remaining condom inside. 

“I have one left.” You said, holding out the small square package to Logan.

You heard him huff out a little chuckle. “Busy girl.” 

“No, ah… quite the opposite, actually. It’s been a while. I’m lucky I had some left in there, really.” you laughed nervously. 

“If anyone’s lucky tonight, it’s me.” Logan whispered, kicking off his jeans and underwear after yanking his undershirt over his head. You cursed the darkness of your room, wishing you could see more than his moonlit silhouette standing over you in your bedroom- but God, was it a silhouette. Broad shoulders lined in bluish-white light, sweat-sheened pecs and a strong jawline that dipped half an inch when he saw the way you were gazing at him.

Unlike you, Logan could see everything. The night sky was littered with stars beneath a full moon, and all of it graciously allowed him a gorgeous view that practically left you glowing- but he knew you could glow brighter if you bared the rest of yourself to him right now. 

“Clothes off, doll. Let me see you.” 

It wasn’t a suggestion- this was a command. A command you eagerly obeyed as he got to work ripping open the condom wrapper and sliding the rubber down his cock. He was so ready for you, even the soft touch of his own hand rolling the condom on made him twitch as he watched you remove layer after layer until you wore nothing but the moonlight. 

“Goddamn beautiful.” he swore. 

You gazed at him through thick lashes and heavy lids, propped up on your elbows and smiling demurely as you slowly widened your legs for him. 

He couldn’t take much more of this; a growl resonated in his chest as Logan practically pounced on you, enveloping your mouth in a molten kiss as he lined himself up with you and plowed into you without warning. 

“Holy shit-!” you yelped into his mouth, the size of him surprising you as you took his whole length at once. You hadn’t realized how empty you had felt until you suddenly had something to fill you wholly and completely- the stretch was overwhelming and beautiful all at once. You moaned wantonly, clutching at his bicep with one hand and his shoulder with the other. 

Logan groaned as he slowly began pumping in and out of you, reveling in the pleasure he received with every fraction of a movement he made inside of you. You were so tight, muscles already primed and contracting from the first climax he’d brought out of you. 

“You tell me what feels good, baby.” He said, working one arm under your head to cradle it with his forearm, and using the other to lift one of your legs up to hook around his lower back. Once again, his tone left no room for argument. 

“Okay.” you agreed meekly, all the fight you normally had in you suddenly gone now that you had this man seated deep inside you. One thrust and you’d become putty in his hands. 

Logan pulled out about halfway before slamming into you, and the sharp moan you gave him as you clutched his shoulder drove him forward like a war cry. Every thrust was harsh and powerful enough to make you see stars, and you wondered briefly if it was possible for a dick to shatter someone from the inside. 

“What did I say?” Logan grunted into your ear as he fucked you, “I told you to tell me what feels good, baby, didn’t I?” His movements started to slow. “If this doesn’t feel good I can stop-”

“No!” you whined, actually pouting despite yourself. You were a grown ass woman, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d pouted. Apparently he could see it, because Logan chuckled as he lifted your leg from around his back to reposition it over his shoulder, opening you wide for him. 

“Then if this feels good, you better tell me, doll.” 

One thrust in that position was all it took for you to know he’d have you cumming in minutes, maybe seconds. 

“Holy-!” you yelped, and the bastard had the gall to laugh as he speared into your pussy over and over again, hitting that spot each time without fail. “So deep… oh my God, you’re so fucking deep, it feels so good, I’m…” Your voice trailed off as your back arched, pelvis pushing into him as his cock drove into you repeatedly while you moaned loud enough that it didn’t even sound like your own voice anymore. 

“That’s it, baby,” Logan sat up on his knees, cock still sheathed inside you as he looked down and spat onto your pussy. He lifted both of your legs this time, hooking them both over his shoulders before swiping his thumb through the glob of slick that sat cooling on your clit and moving it in little circles as he continued to mercilessly rail you. The movement was even smoother now, allowing him to hit that spot deep inside you that had you seeing God with every thrust. He felt you getting tighter, his dick combined with the soft, wet movements of his thumb were working you into a blithering mess. “You gonna give me another one?”

The way you looked up at him then- eyebrows pulled together helplessly over starlight eyes and bottom lip reduced to a quivering, spit-shined pillow- it was the stuff of dreams. Logan did everything he could to commit this moment to memory; he filed it all away and prayed to whatever god was listening that he never forgot the way you looked like an angel as you writhed under him, whimpering as your second orgasm crashed into you and made your pussy spasm around his cock- somehow feeling strong and soft and wrapped in fire all at the same time. Logan knew his own release wasn’t far behind, and the blood that was rushing to his cock drove him into you deeper and harder until-

Snap!

You both felt the rubber snap open inside you. It launched your eyelids open, had Logan’s movements reluctantly slowing as you looked up at him in alarm. 

“Fuck.” Logan muttered. That had been your last condom; he felt his heart start to plummet as he pulled out of you, inspecting the condom with his hands and sighing frustratedly through his nose when he felt nothing but his bare cock covered in your arousal. 

“Um…” you piped up, your voice small and breathy beneath him. “We can still keep going… if you want.” 

Hell yes. Logan began rolling the broken condom off his cock, perking up at the thought of fucking you raw. He tried not to make a habit of unprotected sex, but if you were on the pill…

“I have an IUD,” you added, as if you could read his mind. 

Logan had forgotten those were a thing. Moments like this always reminded Logan how fucking old he was… he tried not to dwell on that right now. 

“...You sure you’re alright with that?” Logan said softly. “We can stop if you aren’t comfortable.” 

You smiled, running a feather-light hand down his forearm. “I’ll feel a lot more comfortable when you’re back inside me.” 

Something darkened in Logan’s eyes as he looked down at you, lying bare and sweat-sheened on your bed beneath his looming form. He’d been getting closer before, but now that he knew he’d get to savor you without a barrier, without anything to numb the pleasure of feeling you completely… he wanted to make this last. 

“You want it?” 

Logan’s tone was different now; there was a dominant edge to his words that made your heart skip a beat. You suddenly felt the urge to play dumb, to eagerly grant him whatever he asked for and beg him for all the things you wanted from him. Your dignity was fading with every second you spent underneath this man.

“Yes,” you nodded, “yes, I want it.” 

Logan looked down at you appraisingly, making you feel smaller in the best kind of way. He gave a little nod. “All fours then, doll.” 

A thrill rushed through you as you rose to line your mouth up with his cock, before he stopped you with a click of his tongue. 

“Other way.”

Oh. 

Slowly, you shifted, spinning around until you were on your hands and knees facing away from him. Your cheeks heated, knowing how exposed you were to him this way. It made you feel like you were under a microscope, but for some reason that part turned you on even more. 

You shivered as Logan’s hands came down to rest on the flesh of your ass, caressing and squeezing without hesitation. 

“You know how many times I’ve watched this ass walk away?”

You waited for him to continue, but his silence told you that he actually wanted you to answer the question. “Uh… more than I’d ever noticed, I’m guessing.”

You gasped as his hand came down on your ass with a slap. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt, just enough to surprise you. 

“Every time you left the bar before me, sweetheart.” He said, his voice gruff and thick with lust. “And sometimes I’d go home and think about this ass in this exact position… my fantasies didn’t do you justice, baby.” 

You jolted at a second slap that he delivered to your other ass cheek. Knowing he’d fantasized about you, the feeling of presenting your ass to him like this, the fact that you couldn’t see him from this angle- all of it was overwhelming enough that you actually yelped in surprise when you felt Logan’s tongue on your pussy again. 

“Oh my God-!” You half-gasped, half-moaned as his tongue slid over your lips, into your hole, around your clit. You almost whined when his mouth left you, but definitely whined when you felt him spit on your pussy before slapping your ass again. 

“Good girl,” Logan growled, “keep being loud for me.” 

That was the only warning you got before he plunged his dick into you raw and started pounding you relentlessly from behind. 

You did as you were told, that was for damn sure. Your moans, your cries- all of them merged together into a train of incoherent wailing in rhythm with Logan’s ruthless thrusting. He felt so good, his length reaching places at this angle that made your eyes roll back and your mouth hang open- at one point you might have even drooled. 

Logan was enjoying himself too, grunting and growling as he felt every inch of you squeezing him tighter, tighter. You cunt clung to him, and the soft, wet heat of you was driving him crazy.

“Such a sweet thing,” he muttered, and he was so quiet you couldn’t tell if he was talking to you or to himself. “Always so sunny… so- fuck- dirty now… were you always this dirty, baby? Or is this just for me?” 

You moaned a response, but the mounting pleasure within you muffled your words into more babbles into your sheets. 

Slap!

Logan rubbed the spot on your ass cheek that was inevitably turning red now. “Words, baby, answer me.” 

“Just you-” you moaned, suppressing a sob of pleasure as you felt yourself reaching your third climax of the night. “No one’s ever- ah!- fucked me like this- mmnh!” A strangled moan cut your sentence short as Logan felt you start to spasm around him. Those words, your hot cunt squeezing him tighter than he thought possible- it was enough to push him over the edge as well. 

“Aaahgh- fuck!” Logan’s pleasure overtook him, and he continued his relentless pace as he filled  you while you came around him. Your moans intertwined in that moonlit bedroom, and by the time you were both completely spent your knees had given out, leaving you sprawled on your stomach beneath Logan’s exhausted form curled over yours. 

A couple of moments were all it took for you to wonder what happened now- if Logan was the ‘stay the night’ type, or if ‘wham, bam, thank you ma’am’ was more his style. You had a sneaking suspicion he wasn’t a fan of cuddling after sex, so you shouldn’t get your hopes up about him staying the night. Besides, you worked tomorrow, so it wasn’t like the two of you would be getting breakfast in the morning anyway-

“What are you thinking about?” 

“Huh?” You rolled over, turning until you and Logan were both on your sides facing each other on your bed. “Nothing.”

He raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “I know what you look like when you’re thinking about something, you know.” 

You didn’t know what to say to that. All those nights at Dusty’s when you’d chattered on and on just to see if you could coax him out of his brooding silence.… you’d just assumed that you annoyed him, that he’d been trying to ignore you.

 But maybe… maybe he’d actually been listening this whole time. 

You sighed, conceding. “I’m wondering if I should ask you to spend the night, and if you’d even want to.” 

Logan looked at you- really looked at you- then slowly leaned toward you until his lips softly touched yours in the gentlest kiss he’d given you tonight. 

“I’ll stay as long as you’ll let me, doll.” he said when he pulled away, before placing one more of those soft kisses to your forehead. 

You woke the next morning to the sound of your alarm and the smell of coffee. 

It was still dark, and you followed the scent of morning brew like a zombie until you found yourself standing in the kitchen with a mug of hot coffee in your hand. 

With Logan, who also held a mug of coffee. 

Wait…

Oh shit. 

The events of last night flooded your mind, and when you finally registered that not only had Logan stayed all night, but woken up before your alarm and made you coffee? You felt like you were dreaming.

“...Good morning.” you mumbled, your voice croaky as it always was in the morning. 

Logan smirked at you, taking in your bed head, your smudged makeup from the night before, your sleepy eyes- all of it was endearing to him. He nodded, raising his mug in a toast. “Morning, doll.” 

You stared at his mug, then yours, focusing on it as if it were a puzzle you couldn’t solve. “You made me coffee.” 

Logan raised an eyebrow. “Yes, I did.” 

You took a sip before staring at the mug again. “How’d you know I like it black?”

He shrugged, “Figured anything else would be too sweet for you.” 

You chuckled, inching closer to him and tilting your chin up to meet his in a sleepy kiss. “I have to be at work in an hour.” you groaned.

“I have to be at work in half an hour.”

You gasped, “Oh my god, are you going to be late?” to which he simply shrugged.

“They’ll wait on me. Boss is a softie.” 

“That’s something you two have in common, then?” You grinned, knowing he’d probably hate being called a “softie”, what with his gruff exterior and strong, silent type vibes.

Logan rolled his eyes, pairing them with a wolfish grin. “Is that what you’d call the way I fucked you last night? Soft?” 

You felt a rush of heat at the reminder of last night- you’d be thinking about this encounter for a long time. “That was definitely not soft.” you said, sighing wistfully. “Waking me up with coffee, however-” You clinked your ceramic mug against his and smiled up at him smugly. “-soft. In a very good way.” 

Logan grunted, shaking his head with a rueful smirk. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get used to it.”

Logan had left soon after that, leaving you to shower and get ready for the day. You hadn’t had a very in-depth conversation with him about where the two of you went from here… but you put that out of your mind for now. You’d have plenty more evening’s at Dusty’s with him to DTR. 

The day hit the ground running at work, keeping you busy enough that the night before only crossed your mind when you sat down and felt the echoes of Logan’s thrusts between your legs. Everything seemed normal for the most part- until fourth period, that is.

“Excuse me,” murmured Kurt, one of your quieter students. “Can I go to the front office?” 

Kurt had seemed off since he’d walked into your classroom that day; nervous for some reason. He was stumbling through his words, his German accented English tumbling from his mouth clumsily. 

“What do you need to do in the office?” you asked him gently. 

He seemed fixated on his watch, fiddling with the dials obsessively and refusing to meet your eyes. “Someone is dropping something off for me. I really really need it.”

Something strange happened then. Kurt’s features- his raven hair, his pale skin- glitched. For a second, his skin was royal blue and his eyes shifted to a golden yellow. Then, as quickly as the changes had appeared, they changed back and Kurt was Kurt again. He glanced down nervously at his watch again. 

Realization dawned on you then, Logan’s words at the bar last night echoing in your head.

 A mutant in this world learns pretty quick that it isn’t safe for them to be themselves.

Your eyes must have widened dramatically, because Kurt went from nervous to frantic. He looked like he was about to try and salvage the situation somehow, but you stopped him. 

“This-” you gestured to Kurt’s watch. “-does it help make school safer for you?”

His eyes were nervous saucers as Kurt bit his lip and nodded. 

“And it’s acting up, so someone from home is coming to help?”

Kurt nodded again. 

“Would you feel better if I walked down there with you, or worse?”

He thought about it for a moment before nodding again. “Better.” 

It only took a moment for you to ask the teacher next door to you to watch your class while you walked with Kurt down to the front office. The whole time, your mind rolled through anything and everything that you knew about Kurt.

He was one of the kids from that Xavier Institute that you always drove past on your way to work. Not much was known for sure about the strange boarding school. Officially, all you knew was that some students learned every subject at the school and rarely left, while others studied their core subjects here at the public school and got all of their other credits from the Institute. The rumors, however… they were much more elaborate than that. 

There were several rumors floating around about the Xavier Institute, but the most common one you’d heard was that it was a school for mutants. 

Kurt came from that school, and you were starting to wonder how much truth there was to those rumors. 

“Oh danke Gott!” 

Kurt’s relief was evident as he entered the front office, running immediately to…

Logan?

“Dammit, Elf, I told you to have Hank look at this thing weeks ago- oh.”

Logan’s sentence was cut short when he saw you frozen in the entryway. Slowly, his wide eyes and surprised expression shifted into a devilish smile of recognition. “Hey you.”

A soft laugh escaped your lips. “Hi.”

Kurt looked bewildered as he tinkered with his watch, fitting an attachment onto the face of it that he’d grabbed from Logan the second he saw him. “Do you two know each other?”

Your mouth opened and closed, not quite sure what lie to tell before Logan swooped in with, “All teachers know each other, kid.”

Kurt seemed to accept that answer, shrugging and turning to face the front desk and ask the secretary if she had a screwdriver. You took the opportunity to inch a little closer to Logan.

“You’re a teacher? You didn’t tell me that.” 

Logan shrugged. “You didn’t ask.” 

You smiled ruefully, shaking your head. “Well whatever you teach at that Xavier place…” You beamed up at him.  “they’re lucky to have you.”

He looked back at you, a tender smile stretching his lips just enough to crease the outer corners of his eyes. “They’re lucky to have you too.” 

You felt your cheeks heat at his praise. Eager for something else to look at, you watched Kurt as he expertly worked the dials on his watch. “Kurt’s a great kid. Super smart.” You raised an eyebrow when you noticed the way Logan was watching him, too- proud, fatherly admiration was evident in his gaze. He had been the one Kurt called when he’d needed help…

“You wouldn’t happen to be his…” you asked, to which Logan replied with an immediate-

“No!” he shook his head quickly, “No, far as I know, I’m nobody’s dad.” His voice was low and gruff as he chuckled the question away. He glanced back at you with a twinkle of mischief in his eye before lowering his lips to your ear, only speaking loud enough for you to hear his whispered addition.

“‘Course, I don’t think I’d hate it if you called me ‘daddy’-”

“Okay, Kurt!” you practically jumped away from Logan, face feeling hot as the summer sun. “You almost done with that thing? Mrs. Smith can’t watch our class forever, can she?”

“Just a second!” Kurt mumbled, still focused on his watch.

Your eyes darted to Logan for a moment, taking in his smug little grin and the way his pecs puffed up when he crossed his arms over his chest-

Damn. Barely twelve hours after he’d fucked you into your mattress and you were already horny for him again. 

Taking a deep breath to bring yourself back to earth, you grabbed a post-it note and a pen from the receptionist’s desk, scribbled your number onto it, and handed the little neon pink paper to Logan. 

“Here. In case…” Your eyes flitted around in search of a reason other than in case you want to fuck my brains out again. “...in case this isn’t the last time something like this happens.” 

Logan grinned, tucking the post-it into his jeans pocket. “Of course.” he tapped a sarcastic finger to his temple. “Smart thinking.” 

“Okay!” Kurt said, jogging over to the two of you from the front desk. “Alles gut! We can go back now.”

Logan nodded to Kurt. “Then that’s my cue to leave. See ya, kid.” Then turning to you, he added, “Ma’am.” He dipped his head as if tipping a hat, pulling a small involuntary giggle out from under your breath. 

“Sir.” you replied, mimicking the gesture. Logan’s eyes darkened in the most delicious way when you called him that, and he looked to be biting the inside of his smirk as he turned and exited through the front doors. 

You hadn’t even made it all the way down the hallway before you felt a buzzing in your back pocket. Upon checking your phone, you saw a text had been sent from an unknown number. The content of the message, however, left no question as to whom the sender was. 

Drinks tonight?

You grinned giddily as a schoolgirl, quickly typing out a reply and hitting send just before you re-entered the classroom. 

Do you even have to ask?

A/N: I've never written for Logan before, so I hope his characterization feels right! Writing this felt like walking around in brand new shoes- still breaking them in. If you enjoyed this, let me know! ❤️

Taglist (just a few people I thought might be interested): @the-unforgivenn @ghost-proofbaby @pastel-pillows @munson-blurbs @hellfire--cult

[neontokyoo]

I had so many people ask me for more girl dad content, I decided to just put all the requests in one. I was supposed to post this on my birthday yesterday but I never did, so here y’all go.

Characters: Astarion (both versions), Halsin, Raphael.

Warning: may contain mild sexual content

Spawn Astarion:

- Tav and Astarion have one little girl who's the spitting image of Astarion, with a few physical features that she gets from her mother.

- I'm almost convinced their daughter was conceived at the cemetery after Astarion was finally free from Cazador.

- This was an unplanned pregnancy, and Astarion was absolutely terrified when he found out about it.

- She has a mixed race between her mom and her dad (unless Tav is also an elf)

- She was probably named after a star or planet or something that goes with her father's name, meaning "Little Star"

- But she could also be named after Dawn, Dusk, or Night, considering that she's a Dhampire

- She's a rogue, but according to D&D, you can have multiple classes, which means that she could also have Tav's class, as well.

- She grew up in a small, nice home in Baldur's Gate

- She was taught at a young age how to use a sword and fight back if threatened.

- Astarion is very protective of his daughter and tends to distrust the people she spends time with unless he already knows them really well, or gets to know them really well

- Astarion is the type of parent who enjoys to gossip with their child, and he'd wait for his daughter to return from school so they could talk shit. "So, darling, how was your day? Any drama? Any problems with your friends or classmates--or teacher? Any interesting rumors? Spill the tea."

- As his daughter get's older to the point she's ready for a relationship, Astarion is the type of parent that feels unsure, and comes off as cold and disapproving towards their child's partner, but eventually, he'll warm up to them and they'll gain his approval after some time

Ascended Astarion:

- Tav and Astarion have one little girl who's the spitting image of Astarion, with a few physical features that she gets from her mother.

- Their daughter was conceived on their wedding night.

- This pregnancy was planned, but whether it was actually consensual or not, I have no idea. That part's up to you/Tav

- She has a mixed race between her mom and her dad (unless Tav is also an elf)

- She was probably named after a star or planet or something that goes with her father's name, meaning "Little Star"

- But she could also be named after Dawn, Dusk, or Night, considering that she's a Dhampire (unless Tav became a spawn before she married Astarion, then their daughter would be an actual vampire)

- She's a rogue, but according to D&D, you can have multiple classes, which means that she could also have Tav's class, as well.

- She grew up in Cazador's old palace

- She wasn't neglected, but Astarion's main focus was on politics and raising an heir

- He was disappointed when he found out he'd created a daughter instead of a son

- He was disappointed, but he and Tav were unfortunately unable to make another child as quickly as he wanted, and he eventually gave up trying

- She was raised with strict rules and discipline.

- Despite the disappointment of having a girl, she eventually grows on Astarion, and Astarion is actually very protective of his daughter and tends to threaten the people around her. It doesn't matter who you are, mess with his kid, and he'll hunt you down

- As his daughter get's older to the point she's ready for a relationship, Astarion is the type of parent to disapprove from the very beginning. He's very sour, and her partner may never get his approval. It doesn't matter who it is, he just doesn't like anyone.

Halsin:

- Halsin and Tav had triplets their first pregnancy.

- One looks just like Halsin, one looks like Tav, and the other one is a perfect mixture of both.

- Nobody knows when they were conceived. Tav and Halsin didn't actually do it on one specific day, so it's hard to tell when it actually happened.

- It was both a surprise and a planned pregnancy. They've talked about it before, but didn't actually expect it to happen so soon.

- They definitely weren't expecting to have triplets.

- But they were feeling pretty Brave, so they weren't too worried.

- The girl's are a mixed race (unless both parents are elves.)

- All three of them are druids

- They probably have nature-related names.

- The girls grew up in a family-sized cottage in the Emerald Grove

- Compared to other children, they live a good life

- Tav and Halsin are financially stable, and halsin looks after the Grove and the children while Tav starts her own business of some sort to help gain extra money. (I don't know if Halsin gets paid for running the Grove, but maybe he sells flowers or something?)

- These girls mean the world to Halsin, and he wouldn't even know how to function properly if anything were to happen to them. His wife included.

- I feel like Halsin is a very supportive parent

- When the girls are old enough and ready for a relationship, Halsin would bawl like a baby and do his best to be supportive to both his daughters and their partners.

Raphael:

- Tav and Raphael have one little girl who doesn't look like anyone in particular. She's the perfect mix of both her parents, with her father's hair and her mother's eyes.

- She wasn't conceived on any specific day. I mean, maybe an anniversary of some sort. Or a birthday, even? Nobody knows.

- It was completely unexpected that Tav was pregnant, but Raphael took much pride in making that happen.

- Their daughter is part cambion

- Like her father, the child has a devil form and a disguise (of Tav's race).

- She has two classes, being a bard like her father, and also sharing her mother's class, as well.

- The child probably has a name that gives tiefling/devil/cambion vibes (Maeve, for example)

- She grew up in the House of Hope

- Raphael tries his best to balance spending time with his daughter with his work.

- Raphael is a very calm father

- He has rules, guidelines, and expectation's for his daughter, but is not overly strict.

- But he wouldn't hesitate to put his foot down if necessary.

- For example, he lets his daughter hang out with her friends, but she needs to talk to him or Tav first, and is expected to be home around a certain time. If she doesn't meet that expectation, he might yell, he might be angry, he might scold her, and if it repeats, he won't think twice about grounding her.

- pretty much the average parent

- I believe that Raphael would be the type of parent to have a Courting Candle when his daughter is to the point where she's ready for a relationship. Whether he's cold to her partner or not depends on the type of person.her partner is. It may take a moment to gain his approval, or he may never approve.

[teenandbeyond]

Can I request a predator smut with prompts 51,52 and 64 please?

Predator x Reader

Helloooooo, Briteny's back bitches 😌💅

Want more from me? Masterlist

☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

Hunter and Prey (Predator)

Warning(s): Smut, reader being chased, park smex (so that's nice, yeah), and idk how I wrote this in class, so have fun, the sparkly stars below are a scam, this is anything but cute

Your predator does what he knows best, hunt...

✨✨✨✨✨✨

“I thought I’d try something different tonight…”

With a tilt of his head, you knew your Yautja was intrigued as you leaned back into him.

“Play a little game, where I’d be your prey. Would you like that?”

You could feel the rumble in his chest, claws trailing down your frame.

“If I win, I do what I want with you—” your breath hitched as they grazed ever so delicately against your inner thigh.

“If I win?” his deep and gravelly English makes you smile. You were a good teacher.

“You do what a hunter would with any prey…” you trail off with a bite of your lip.

“Mm. Rules?”

“The first rule is you only have two hours after my 30-minute headstart. The second: No Bio-Helmet. It wouldn’t be fair to give you such an easy win.”

Then you felt the jump of laughter, you did always enjoy the sound of his laugh, even if it sounded absolutely anything but kind.

“I think I’ve got this in the bag. Your eyesight is shitty without that thing,” you grinned.

“Is that…a challenge? You know I love those.”

•─────⋅☾ 𝕻𝖗𝖊𝖉𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗 ☽⋅─────•

And now here you were, being chased in the small town by your predator.

You’d made it a distance from your home, confident you would win this little game.

You were careful, the small town was dead at night…however, that didn’t mean there wasn't a risk you or your hunter would be seen.

But that made it all the more thrilling.

Soon, you were at the park, making your way through the crowd of trees.

Your head snapped behind you when you heard birds squawk…he was getting closer, you had to move.

On the other hand, your Predator was a little convinced you truly didn’t want to win, considering you were leaving clues.

Every half a mile or so, there was a piece of clothing he could see.

A hat.

A scarf.

One glove here, another there.

Your coat, he could see from the trees.

But he couldn’t find you. Yet.

He refused to lose, never once has he lost a hunt.

Then he heard the snap of a stick not too far from where he was.

There you were.

You knew you were fucked, you knew he’d hear you.

And he could smell your excitement fill the air at the thought of that.

Time was ticking, he smoothly leaped from one tree to another, getting closer by the second.

•─────⋅☾ 𝕻𝖗𝖊𝖉𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗 ☽⋅─────•

“Shit…” you whispered, slowly lifting your foot from the broken branch.

You had to run.

You heard a couple of men not too far away murmuring lowly, maybe they could be the distraction. Hiding your body in plain sight.

You hide behind a tree, peeking out to observe them. Maybe you could stand close to them to confuse your body heat or—

With a gasp, you’re slammed into the bark, your mouth is covered.

He’s here.

His gaze pierced into yours, he leans into your ear, “I win. Twenty minutes left. What was that about… having it in the bag?”

You scoff, voice muffled by his hand, “Bite me.”

“If that’s what you wish..."

•─────⋅☾ 𝕻𝖗𝖊𝖉𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗 ☽⋅─────•

“H-hah…So-So much…” you whimper as you get rammed into.

You were so hot, yet so cold all at once. The air was crisp, and it didn’t help that the only clothes you had were ripped to shreds.

Your legs buckled, hardly able to stand, but you did, knees brushing together with each jut forward.

As much as he liked holding you…he really loved when you were bent over, taking him in.

His grip on your ripped shirt was tight, he used it to tug you back into him.

You tried so hard to keep quiet, you didn’t want to be heard.

But you were the only one that cared, so.

He decided to be a little asshole and let some of his raw strength seep in, he was still in control of course.

He liked you too much to kill you this way…Now anyway.

And quite honestly, in this fucked out moment of yours, you wouldn’t have minded this being your way out.

A loud mewl—that he thought was very cute—slipped past your lips.

He rolled his hips, the circular movement hitting you deep.

You bite your lip to keep quiet best you could, but he was making it hard.

He’d make it even harder for you.

I mean, you did this much. Made him hunt you. In public at that, but couldn’t handle a few weakling men hearing you?

What would they do except scream before he kills them for seeing you in such a state?

He made his thrusts more deliberate, not really fast, but hardly gentle. Hitting that spot he knew would make you break.

Because if he didn’t make you cry with pleasure, he wasn’t doing it right.

If you weren’t babbling for more, then his job wasn’t done.

He wouldn’t stop until he got what he wanted. That was his reward. He won fair and square.

He loved conquering you, admiring your body, feeling it against his.

And he also loved reminding you that no matter how long you’ve been with him, how much you’ve toughened up…you were still the weakling little human who’d easily get drunk on his cock no matter how many times you’ve seen and felt it.

You tell him it’s because you love him.

Such a thing is foreign to him, he had mates, not love.

But make no mistake, if there’s one thing he understands. He loves your body.

His hand traces over your sides, your hips.

He loves every curve, dent, blemish, freckle, mole, the uneven skin tone in some places.

You are quite the fascinating creature.

He watches as your body trembles, you gasp for breath, fresh after climax.

But despite him going so hard on you, despite your behind being slapped so much it’s changed color, despite the dents his claws left behind, despite your throat being sore from taking him earlier…you still smile and say…

“Give me more…I know you’re not done yet.”

[mybworlds]

CHAPTER 12

status: ongoing

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: your life is full of 'must'. You live with your overprotective mother who controls every aspect of your life. You have a dream, to write romance novels, but love - real love - you haven't found yet. Your mother has even decided what you must do in your free time: play music. One day, however, when you go to your music teacher's house, you will have an unexpected encounter and from that day on things change…

Masterlist

Before to start. . . Please take your time to read 'cause it's quite lenghty. 📖

rating: 18+ explicit (minors, DNI)

Thanks @vase-of-lilies for the banner and thanks @saradika-graphics for the divider.

Taglist: @harriedandharassed

The weekend with Joel unfortunately came to an end. The enchantment is over and everything is back exactly as it was. Or almost, Joel, the night before the two of you went back to your lives, gave you a small set of keys.

"If you want to come here and write, you can. With or without me. There's an important part of you here and it's right that, when you want to, you come. Feel free to do." he told you "If you want to run away and seek refuge, you can do it here."

You are in your room lying on your bed with the small wooden guitar he carved for you a long ago clutched in one hand and the keys to his house in the other. You clutch them tightly to your heart as if to feel Joel close to you. You miss him already.

This makes you realize one thing: there's no longer a place for Jack in your life or in your heart. You want to be with Joel. You want him to be a part of you, you want everyone to know that you don't care that he's older than you, but that you love him. Yes, you love him.

You can't do without him.

Your phone rings.

It's Jack.

"I haven't heard from you once." he says.

"Well, you too." you reply in an icy tone.

"Would you like to talk about what happened a few nights ago?" he asks you.

The truth is that you don't care. You don't want someone like him next to you, someone who makes you feel bad, who doesn't support you, who doesn't understand you. No, thank you.

"There's nothing to say," you reply in the same tone.

"So … are we okay?" he asks.

"No, maybe I wasn't clear. Jack. . . I'm sorry, but I don't want a person who doesn't support me, who doesn't understand what's important to me," you answer.

For a moment you feel like the phone line has gone dead, then he resumes "So, we don't want to see each other again?"

"No." you reply flatly "Bye Jack, have a nice life." you add and then cut off the call.

Your heart beats fast in your chest. You feel as if freed from a burden.

Maybe you were too hard on Jack, but you don’t want continue leading him on, it’s not fair. You don't love him. You never had.

Now you can be with Joel.

But how can you see him if he is no longer in town now?

Simple, you look for something that might convince your mother to let you leave for a few days. You look for an idea, anything to get away, but at the moment you can't think of anything.

You fall asleep looking for an idea.

Your life flows quietly, you go to work at the bar, when you come back you practice your chords, you very rarely go to church with your mother hoping to get some ideas on how you can reach Joel. The man who teaches these classes sees you and approaches you with a big smile. He's a great speaker, has great language property, and you are not surprised that your mother is fascinated by him, but you fear that he is yet another foothold your mother is looking for in the course of her life. The man, a fellow named Mark, will be a few years older than your mother, tells you that he's glad you are there with them, that you too therefore are seeking the salvation of your soul and that only through prayer can this happen.

You lower your head, you don't want to burst out laughing in his face, you don't believe in this, you never had and you won't start now. Everything you hear only increase this your total belief. You are not like your mother who believes whatever she is told. No.

"Boo," your mother says, "have you seen how interesting these classes are?"

Of course.

"Yes, you right. You know, I've been thinking about going deeper," you begin. Your mother's eyes sparkle, she thinks she convinced you and converted you to all this. Not at all.

"You could go for a prayer retreat with Mark and his group." she offers enthusiastically "If I could, I would go too, but I have to work."

You take advantage of it.

"Mom, actually I'd like to go with my friend Kristen and her prayer group, you know, she's also attending. Her group is in the small town near ours, I know they are leaving next week for a prayer retreat, maybe I can go with her so I would have her company."

Kristen is the friend your mother always liked the most, she always saw her as a proper young person, judicious, polite, charitable, in short a perfect friend and girl.

"Fine. But you'll have to let me know then what you think, though, and then next time you and I will go with Mark's group."

Now you just need to let Kristen know.

"We'll talk." you say with a small smile "Would you like a pizza? Shall we eat it at the diner?"

"All right." she replies, taking you under her arm.

The evening unfolds as quietly as possible, you don't talk much, you just make a few sporadic comments about the pizza, the place, the meeting you attended, but nothing more.

Fortunately Joel calls when you returned by now and your mother is in bed. You check to see if you can talk freely and realize that she is soundly asleep. Joel tells you about his day, but more than anything he asks if you have been to his house, he wants to know if you are writing, if you are doing everything to pursue your dream, but you tell him you are going tomorrow.

"I miss you," you tell him, "I wish you were here," you add.

"I can't move, honey." he tells you in a regretful tone "We may not see each other not earlier than three weeks, it's gonna be complicated days for me."

"For me too, Miller. I'll. . ." you stop, you were about to tell him I love you, but then you reconsider, you don't know if your feeling is mutual, and what if he replies he doesn't feel the same way for you? You don't think you can stand such a response from him.

"You, what?" he encourages you, you swallow, afraid, you close your eyes "Baby, are you there?"

"Yes." you answer "I'm very tired, sorry. . ."

"No, no, 's okay. Go to sleep, I wish you good night, baby. A kiss, I hope whatever you dream will come true sooner or later." he says before to hang up the phone.

You open your eyes, he's not here, but your imagination brought you into his arms to come violently.

You will surely dream about him, his dark eyes, his plushy lips smiling at you and kissing you softly, his messy hair falling on his forehead, his arms caging the sides of your face, you dream about him with one hand cupping your face and with the other moving a strand of your hair and smiling at you. You see him on top of you whispering sweet, reassuring words in that sweet, warm voice of his, your hands in his hair as you press yourself against him.

His hand along your bare chest, his large hand caressing your breasts, thumb and forefinger teasing first one nipple and then the other. Your breath breaks.

His bulge pushing against your inner thigh, your breaths getting shorter and shorter, you almost feel him stroking you with a finger first to taste your intimacy then slowly sinking inside you, inch by inch. You gasp.

It feels so good, the rhythm he's giving with his finger that breaks your breath, he then strokes you rhythmically with two fingers, filling you all the way, you swallow squeezing your eyes shut and clutching your sheets in a fist. You mumble his name, bite your lower lip. You feel the blood boil in your veins as he continues to pump in a relentless rhythm inside you, then your mouth opens wide in a dull moan, your lips trembling.

Being in his house without him causes you a strange grip, you feel like you are in a beautiful soulless place. You feel empty, you just look around as if you almost feel a presence around you. You feel ridiculous thinking about this. After all, it's not the first time you've come here, of course it's the first time you're alone here, but you've been with him so many times. There's nothing to be afraid of.

"You recognize this place?" you ask Joel, sending him a message with a photograph of you sitting on his couch.

You turn on the computer he gave you and write, write, write. The words come out spontaneously, effortlessly, when you lift your head from the computer you realize it is almost evening. You stretch, turn off the pc, drink a glass of water, go to the bathroom and then leave.

Joel hasn't answered you, that's not like him, who knows maybe he's just really busy, you tell yourself.

As you're on your way home, you contact Kristen, you absolutely must warn her of your idea: you explain your plan and she tells you that she also has to actually go to a prayer meeting and she has to go to the very town where Joel is working. You explain that you are going to pretend to join them, but that you are actually going to Joel, you want to see him.

You check your phone, but Joel has not answered or displayed yet. You decide to call him, but his phone just rings. That's weird. You text him, but nothing, he doesn't answer or call you. You think about many things, then you decide that since he doesn't answer you, you need to leave, you need to see him now more than ever.

Convincing your mother was as easy as a glass of water, she wanted to talk to Kristen of course who confirmed your prayer meetings, provided many details of arrival and departure, and you, to reassure your mother, promised to call her as soon as you arrived, in the afternoon and evening. You prepare your small luggage and, since your mother won't let you drive, you leave with Kristen. The only problem is that Joel doesn't know you are coming and you don't know where to look for him.

Someone says that doing surprises is never a good thing because you inevitably get surprises, you try to chase that thought away, you don't want to believe that you are the one getting the surprise. You check your phone, Joel hasn't been in touch or answered your texts for almost twenty-four hours, and on the one hand it agitates you, but on the other it leads you to think that maybe he's just really busy.

While you're thinking that you've been foolish in leaving like that without informing him of your arrival, you remember the name of the company he works at and so your field of inquiry narrows; you're not alone, luckily you're accompanied by Kristen and a friend of hers, a guy named Xavier, a tall, muscular, blue-eyed, black-haired handsome guy. You think he's there with you because he cares about your friend, but this is your own thought, you may be wrong.

The places you see are one shabbier than the next, fortunately Xavier is with the two of you. When you arrive at another construction site, you realize you're in the right place, you ask for Joel and at that moment you are approached by a chick all dirty with a chipped protective helmet, she says your name, you turn around "D' you know me?" you ask her puzzled.

"It's like I know you, Joel talks about you all the time. You're here for him, aren't you?" her expression tense, focused "Come with me." she tells you, turning her back to the three of you.

"Uhm, can you wait for me? I'll let you know right away," you tell them.

When you turn around, you see the woman waiting for you with her hands in her uniform pockets, then noticing that you are joining her, she continues. She urges you to be careful several times, climbing flights of semi-dangerous stairs, when you almost reach the top, your heart in your throat with fear, but the idea of seeing him urges you on.

"Don't be frightened, dunno how much he's told you," she says as if you know what she's talking about "It's less worse than it looks." she stops on the landing "He's over there, he fell pretty bad, but other than a few cuts and bruises, he's okay."

You furrow your brow, the woman talks about it almost as if she said he scraped his knee, as if it were obvious. Well, maybe it is, but not to you.

"Didn't he tell you, did he?" she asks noticing your worried expression "You stubborn fool." she says in a sigh "Come." she adds giving you a little pat on your arm.

You follow her worriedly to a semi-closed door, "Wait." she tells you, then enters.

Your heart is pounding in your chest, that's why he didn't write or call you, but when did this happen? Yesterday? Last night? This morning? It doesn't matter when, but how he is, you hope with all your heart that nothing serious happened to him and that it's just a few scratches like the ones you've also seen before.

The door opens, the woman's eyes are downcast as she comes out, then she raises them to you, "He's in a bad mood, but I think with you he's…well, we gave him a painkiller." she tells you as she walks past you.

"But how did that happen?" you ask stopping her.

"That stubborn fellow last night at five o'clock had to knock off, but he wanted to finish a job upstairs at all costs, so he stayed with four other unconscious men like him until eight o'clock. By that time it's dark up here, very dark in spite of the lights, he slipped along with some equipment on the ramp leading upstairs." you pale "The cuts are mostly superficial, except for one on his side. A couple of friends working in the ER stitched him up."

"He needs to be taken to the hospital," you say seriously concerned.

She smiles bitterly and shakes her head "Since that episode happened to his daughter, Miller hasn't set foot in a hospital." the woman looks at you as if she has let a secret slip.

"What happened to his daughter?" you ask her hoping she will talk, but she shakes her head and replies "I can't be the one to tell you about it, he has to. If you're as important to him as it seems. . . well, he'll talk to you about it sooner or later." you lower your gaze "Now go to him."

You swallow, then turn away from the woman and enter, the room is semi-dark and cold, there are dozens of cabinets along two walls and then at the back a window through which only faint glimpses of light enter and a worn sofa on which Joel is lying. You leave your bag at the doorway dropping it and hurry next to him from the side, his face is swollen, you can clearly make out a cut at the level of his left cheekbone and lower lip, his arms are covered with large bloodstained bandages and his work uniform is half-open revealing a gauze on his side below which you imagine are the stitches the woman told you about.

You very gently caress the contour of his face, his face twitching in a small grimace perhaps from pain perhaps from discomfort you don't know, he opens his eyes and when he sees you he hints a pale smile "Is it the painkillers or are you really here?"

"Joel. . ." you tell him in a whisper moving closer to his face "I'm here."

"My beautiful. . . wonderful. . . writer" he mumbles raising an arm toward your face, when his hand brushes your face and then moves your hair you have chills, you place your hand on his, you feel it warm and ruined under your fingers "'m fine." he adds "Don't be impressed, I've been worse."

"Is that why you don't want me to see you naked?" you ask smiling and causing him to smile back.

"Guessed." he replies closing his eyes, for a while you don't speak again, you think he has fallen asleep, but then he says, "I missed feeling your breath against my skin."

"I missed you." you confess, squeezing his hand a little tighter and placing a kiss on the back of his hand "If something happened to you. . ." the words choke in your throat.

"'m right here, honey. 'm not going anywhere." he tells you reassuringly and stroking your cheek with his fingertips in a slow and extremely gentle gesture.

You place your head suddenly between arm and shoulder and he barely jerks, "Sorry!" you exclaim, but he holds you down "No, 's okay, just take it easy. Come on." he tells you moving a little further into the couch. You remain lying on that small and uncomfortable couch, you don't dare to move for fear of hurting him, he's the one looking for your hand, which he occasionally squeezes, but without making a sound. You wonder if he squeezes it to reassure you or because he feels pain.

Joel just turns his face toward yours, "You here alone?"

It's your cell phone vibrating, interrupting that almost perfect silence, Kristen.

You completely forgot about her! You reassure her that everything is fine and that you are with Joel; then, she reminds you to call your mother and tells you she is leaving.

"No," you answer, shaking your head, "I'm with Kristen. She was waiting for me downstairs, you know, afraid that it wasn't the right construction site or that you weren't here," you explain to him.

"If you want to go with your friend, go. I think I'll stay a little longer like this and then go home. Join me later if you want." he tells you in a slightly dizzy voice.

"No." you tell him, "I came for you. If you want me, I'll stay with you," you tell him, looking at him.

He opens and closes his eyes, pulls you gently toward him making your head rest in the crook of his neck, "I want you all the time." he tells you "You know, I've been thinking about you all the time lately. There's not a moment in my day when my thoughts don't go to you." you lift your face slightly toward him "I have three words on the tip of my tongue, but dunno if it's fair to tell you." he adds before breathing deeply.

Your heart pounding in your chest, you close your eyes and inhale his scent.

"I have them too, from the bottom of my heart," you whisper, holding you to him and closing your eyes.

When Joel feels better, the two of you with Tess drive him home. You've reclined the passenger seat to make him lie down or almost lie down, you're sitting in the middle in the back seat. Tess doesn't talk much, she just casts brief glances at you from the rearview mirror and occasionally glances toward Joel who, however, does not look at you or at her.

Once finished, you help him put on a clean T-shirt and invite him to stay there while you prepare a plate of pasta with some tomato sauce, again he rebels initially, but in the face of your firm tone he can only surrender. You hand him the plate by sitting next to him, eating in silence. From time to time he lays his head back against the backrest and closes his eyes holding his breath, "Does it hurt?" he shakes his head, but the expression on his face says otherwise "What can I do?" you ask him.

The little house Joel rented here is much smaller than the one he has in town. In fact, it has a kitchenette, a bedroom and a bathroom. You help him shed his overalls, although he initially rebelled at being treated like he's ill, but you insisted. You sit him down on the worn-out couch in the kitchen and there for the first time you see his completely naked torso and it's huge, but what strikes you most besides his mighty are the many old and new cuts and scars that decorate his arms, his shoulder blades, his back. You are tempted to caress them all, but not now. You try to wash him as best you can without getting too close to the area where the stitches are.

Your eyes constantly cross, when he sees you uncertain he reassures you with a look or a nod.

You stop that thought from your mind, "Come." he says, inviting you to join him. You are wearing a shirt from a few years ago now ruined and three sizes larger, it's so big that it almost reaches your knee. You wear only that one to sleep in and briefs.

He turns to you, "You're here." he tells you causing you to miss a beat and smile.

You enjoy each other's company, he would like to lean toward you and kiss you, but the stitches are pulling and he must not strain. You accompany him to bed, where he wears only a T-shirt and a pair of dark boxers. You swallow, if he wasn't like this. . .

You lie down next to him, he's on his back, you can see him in the semi-darkness of the room, "Who was that woman at the construction site?" you ask, turning to him and gently laying a hand on his chest.

"Tess, a pain in the ass, but she's the only friend I have. The only one who has known me for years. She's a tough cookie."

"I saw. She seems cool," you say.

He nods, then turns to you, "Did you go to my place to write?"

"Once. I wrote. A lot. But without you, it's not the same." you say making squiggles on his chest with your index finger "I would have wanted you around, maybe hugging me and taking a look at what I was writing." you confide, he turns back to you "Next time.'' he tells you, giving you a kiss on your lips.

He takes your hand that was lying on his chest and squeezes it tightly intertwining his fingers with yours, he then runs his fingers down to your forearm and then looking you in the eyes he says "Come." you look at him puzzled "Come on me, I want to kiss you properly." he adds.

Your heart is pounding, you don't know how or, rather, you have a vague idea, but you don't know if it's right. He holds your hand as he guides you by making you lie completely on him. You feel even smaller in this position on him.

"If you have pain or discomfort, tell me," you tell him referring to the stitches, he shakes his head softly and then pulls you closer to him.

You are face to face, Joel barely leans toward you and captures your lips in a kiss that takes your breath away. You think back to how sick you were without him, you think back to the fear you had when you learned he was hurt, as Joel slips a hand through your hair crushing you even more against him.

I love you, you'd like to say, you'd like to let him know, as you too plunge your hands into his hair and your breaths grow shorter and shorter and merge into each other.

You gently stroke his forehead to check that he doesn't have a fever or any other problems; thankfully, everything is fine. He's breathing normally and doing well. You check that the stitches are still intact, once you are satisfied that all is well, you caress his face, his features, you feel under your fingers his unshaven beard, caress in a gesture entirely new to you his neck, his Adam's apple. You see him wrinkle his nose and furrow his brow, then slowly open his eyes finding your eyes at once, you smile at him and he smiles back.

His arms held you close to him all night, you did nothing but exchange long caresses, glances and kisses. And that was enough for you.

You wake up with your head on his chest, your hair partly on his chest and partly on your shoulders, you raise your head slowly and look at Joel's face. His lips parted, his hair tousled - and it's partly your fault too - a serene expression on his face, his wrinkles barely noticeable. The grazes and bruises clash so much with his handsome face.

"G' morning." you say smily.

"'Morning." he says with his voice still slurred from sleep "How long have you been awake?"

"A little while." you reply, giving him a kiss on his sternum.

"And what were ya doing?" he asks looking at you with his dark brown eyes.

"I was watching you. Sorry. . . maybe that's creepy for you. . ." you are about to say, but he smiles so you stop.

"Remember when we slept together at my house?" you nod "I watched you sleep, too. You were like a magnet, I couldn't stop doing it." he continues cupping your cheek, you close your eyes for a moment surrendering to his touch and feeling your heart beating fast "You were. . . you're beautiful." he says gently stroking your lower lip with his thumb.

"I wish. . ." you are about to say something you never thought you would have the courage to say out loud considering your lack of knowledge on the subject, in fact to tell the truth you thought you would only ever write it down in your stories and instead. . .

"Would you like to?" he urges you, stroking your hair.

"I would like to. . ." you bite your lower lip softly "I'd like to make love with you." you say all in one breath, now you would like to hide from his huge dark eyes that seem to want to read you inside, you see him swallow and then he caresses the contour of your face with a finger "Sorry, maybe. . . uhm. . . you don't want to, you don't. . ." you don't know how to continue.

"Who told you I don't want to?" he tells you wrinkling his forehead.

You look at him incredulously almost, blinking several times unable to comment on his answer.

"I just don't think you're ready yet."

"I am." you reply, trying to sound firm and tame that unfamiliar fire inside you.

"We should wait a little longer. I don't want you to have even more pain than necessary." he says moving a strand of hair behind your ear "Y' know it's going to hurt the first time, right?" you nod "I don't want you to feel even more pain because I didn't prepare you properly." he adds.

You lower your gaze for a second, "By prepare well. . . what exactly do you mean?" you ask, showing him once again your inexperience.

"When I feel better, we'll talk about it," he replies.

Interrupting that almost awkward moment there's your phone vibrating.

MOM, it appears on the screen.

Shit, you totally forgot.

"Hello?" you say snapping to your phone answering immediately.

"Weren't you supposed to call me as soon as you got here, were you?" she scolds you.

"Sorry, you're right, while we got the room and then settled in, the meetings. . . sorry." you look toward Joel who scrutinizes you with an indecipherable look.

"Is Kristen with you?" she asks.

"She went downstairs, we have a meeting soon and she went to get croissants before to start, I just got out of the shower."

"All right. So, I won't keep you, have a good day. Call me tonight."

"Alright, bye." you say interrupting the call and placing your cell phone on the bedside table.

You sigh and then turn your gaze to Joel, who stares thoughtfully at the ceiling, you stroke his arm and he looks back at you "You had to tell more lies." it's not a question, it's a statement, and his tone of voice is very, very bitter.

"I didn't tell her about-"

"Us?" he asks you "She asked about you and John though!" he retorts, returning to staring at the ceiling with a disappointed, regretful air "Right?" he adds, turning back to you.

"I only told her about Jack because it would have been more acceptable to her," you tell him, but then you regret what you said because you told him that he's no good.

He looks at you, his expression is full of pain "Got it," he only says, but you don't think he understood what you really wanted to say "Can you help me up?" he says, you want to tell him no, but his tone doesn't admit any other answer but yes.

You get up from the bed and go to his side, put your hands on his shoulder blades as he, too, clutches your forearms to give himself that push he needs to sit up; you feel against your hair his warm breath get short, "How's it going sitting up?" you ask him.

"Fine." he answers you, but his tone is icy; he's angry about what you said.

You kneel down in front of him, "Joel," you say laying a hand on his knee, "I'm sorry if you misunderstood, but I didn't mean that you're not good enough. I didn't mean that, sorry if I misspoke. You are everything to me. I've had a lot of firsts with you, you're the only one I trust completely, I've never slept with anyone, I've never allowed anyone to touch me, I've never allowed anyone to get into my heart." you tell him looking straight into his eyes hoping this time not to be misunderstood.

He says nothing, looking down at you with his huge dark eyes, his breath short from the exertion he has just made, "If I should get too much," he says, but you shush him by stepping even closer and telling him, "I don't want to hear it, it won't happen."

"If it should," he resumes, "I want you to tell me and I won't see you again, I won't look for you, I won't put you in a position to lie to be with me, but to be with that other guy. . ."

"Joel," you interrupt him again, "I broke up with Jack. I don't want to be with him, I don't want him. There's only you." you tell him, feeling his breath stop for a moment as well.

"I can't be mad at you," he admits, stroking your lower lip again with a finger "Come," he says making you sit on his lap, "The truth is you drive me crazy." he tells you slipping a hand through your hair making your face come closer to his "I wish you were happy away from me, but I don't want you to go away. I'm so selfish. . ."

You kiss him fleetingly on the lips, "I don't want to be away from you. Got it?" you ask him sinking your hands into his curls, resting your forehead against his causing your breaths to mingle, "Please don't doubt how you feel about me," you tell him, "Because I have no doubt."

He captures your lips in a passionate kiss, your tongues dancing madly and your breaths growing shorter and shorter. He pushes you toward him, slipping his large, warm hands under your T-shirt and sitting you on his intimacy only covered by his boxers.

You never want to break this kiss, but you both need to catch your breath.

He caresses your arms, then looks long into your eyes as if to ask your permission, you nod giving him your silent consent, and he slips his hands under your T-shirt lifting it up and slipping it off with your help. You remain with your torso completely naked on him, feeling exposed and vulnerable, but it feels so erotic, so beautiful, more beautiful than you ever thought.

You thought that feeling his gaze on your chest, on you, would make you strongly uncomfortable, you thought you would even freeze, and instead in a rush, which you didn't think you had, you bring his hands to your bare breasts. You both groan at that contact, "Can I kiss it?" he asks you without breaking eye contact, "Yes." you reply in a trembling voice.

Feeling his lips on your nipple makes you gasp and at the same time close your eyes, you let yourself go completely to his caresses. Feeling his unshaven beard there, his hot breath, his tongue licking you gently and his lips sucking gently your breast, lead you to moan and gently bite your lower lip. You press his head against your chest, perhaps hurting him, but it is a sensation that sends you completely out of the ordinary.

"I'd stay kissing your breast for hours, 's perfect. You are perfect." he tells you, moving from one breast to the other with a little pop.

"J - Joel… please…" you find yourself pleading without even knowing exactly what the next step to take is, your vision blurs, you press yourself harder against him making your intimacies cling together as well, he gasps "Touch me." you say, he pulls his face away from your chest and you, in a bold move, get up from him slipping off your briefs and sit back down on him, on his now clearly evident prominence.

"You drive me crazy." he tells you taking a long moment to observe you, you are completely naked on top of him while he's still wearing his now bulky T-shirt and boxers.

"Take me." you tell him, bringing his hands to your hips.

He smiles as if you have said something particularly funny, "What?" you ask him blinking.

"What have you done with the sweet version of you?" he asks you barely clasping his hands on your hips, you smile at him giving him a kiss first on his lips and then moving down his neck, feeling him hold his breath.

"I'm still the same." you answer him between kisses "Sweet and insecure, but other times I know what I want and you know thanks to who?" you add going up to his chin giving him a very light bite "Thanks to you." you resume looking into his eyes.

"If I could move freely…" he tells you as a small grimace appears on his face, causing him to furrow his brow.

"What would you do?" you ask, looking at him with eyes full of curiosity and lust.

"Joel…" you moan, pressing even harder against his chest eager for more clutch.

He swallows, moves a strand of your hair and then with his hands descends back down to your intimacy, wraps it completely in his hand and caresses your outer lips with a finger. You hold your breath tightening your grip on his shoulders, you look into his eyes as if seeking safety, he kisses the tip of your nose as he continues that exhausting caress.

Your intimacy throbs, you feel yourself on fire as he continues those movements with a slow cadence making you want to be filled completely by his big finger.

Finally, oh finally, his finger sinks inside you, inch by inch, it's a sensation that makes you hold your breath, but you deeply desired, he stays still for a while then slowly begins to pump in and out, the rhythm makes you moan and close your eyes. After a while he stops and you, with blurred vision, look at him puzzled, "Now I will insert another finger, if you have pain tell me and I will stop."

He must have noticed the bewilderment on your face because he reassures you, "Don't worry, I'll go very slowly. I won't do anything that will hurt you, okay?" you nod, "You tell me if you want me to stop, though," he reiterates.

A second finger?

It will never go in, or will it?

A second finger enters you very, very slowly, sinking even more slowly than the first in your throbbing cunt. You feel your walls almost give way to his passage, you groan and close your eyes, it feels. . . strange, but so. . . you are at a loss for words. It's even better than you could have thought!

With the palm of his hand he rubs your clit sending more discharges of pure lust all along your body, you moan shamelessly rubbing yourself against him, "Joel. . . oh. . ." you can't speak, he lays his other hand at the base of your back stroking you with slow gestures, "I'm going to. . . I'm going to. . ."

"'s okay, just let go." his words are enough, his fingers continuing to move in and out of you at an ever-increasing pace, his hand caressing you is enough to make you close your eyes and let out a long resounding moan.

You let go, abandoning your head on his shoulder as he continues to pump gently still in and out of you, then he pulls his fingers away from you and you feel his hands encircling you and moving closer to your torso and then placing a kiss between your shoulder and your neck, "'s okay." he says then giving you another kiss on your neck and moving your hair causing you to shiver.

When you open your eyes again, you notice how visibly aroused he is, how his arousal is. . . big, very big, you have chills. You want to make love with him, but he will never fit that inside you.

"Why don't you want me to touch you like you do with me?" you ask him intentionally settling better on him causing him to close his eyes and part his lips.

He lays a kiss on your forehead, then you look up and meet his eyes, "We were fighting. . . and then. . ." he says with a smile, a smile you return, "then you realized the reason was futile." you complete.

He nods, "You are. . ." he sighs noisily "so important to me, to my life, to my heart." he admits, caressing your face and scrutinizing you for a long time. You press yourself against him wrapping your arms around his neck, he groans. You sat on him completely, you also jerk and lower your gaze, "No." he says almost interpreting your look.

"I think you've already had another first for today. Let's take it slow." he says, "We'll do that too, honey, I promise." he says stroking your bare back in a slow motion that makes you close your eyes.

"I'd like to make you feel as good as you did me," you tell him looking into his eyes, "I don't want to touch you if you don't want to, but now it's your turn. You can't just worry about me, tell me what to do."

"It's… not…" he's about to complain, but you move a little awkwardly on his shaft and he finds himself swallowing, "it's. . . not necessary. . ."

"Joel!" you call back to him, "Really, tell me what to do." you add, this time intentionally touching his intimacy with yours.

"Fuck. . ." he groans closing his eyes, sighing noisily. He places his hands on your hips and moves you back and forth on his bulge, you both moan at that clutch, "Oh, fuck," he groans again gasping as you place your hands on his shoulders continuing to rub against him, "That's so. . . oh, baby, I. . ." his expression is tense, the vein on his neck clearly visible.

"Joel. . . don't stop." you moan as you move closer to him and give him kisses along the vein on his neck, you feel him gasp, move you on him a few more times and then he lets out a long resounding moan that deliciously fills your ears and leads you to encircle his neck with your arms as you too feel you have experienced a second orgasm just in rubbing against his manhood.

You stay like that against each other for a while longer, then you shift and slip on your briefs again, feel his burning gaze follow you, look up and meet his eyes, slip your T-shirt back on and put on a pair of shorts trying to ignore that almost clutching feeling at the pit of your stomach.

"You hungry?" you ask him.

He nods.

"Pancakes? Or ham and eggs?" you offer him.

"Coffee." he replies with a relaxed expression painted on his face.

"You can't have breakfast with just coffee, you know what happens? You get annoying." you look at him with an amused look making him visibly relax "Do you want to wash up first? Shall I give you a hand?"

He looks at you amused, "Nice try."

You blush, "I'm serious. . . I didn't mean anything."

"Then why are ya all flushed?" he asks relaxing completely.

"Because … I'm not used to these allusions, I always hated 'em. Gina, my friend, makes constant allusions to sex, and it always makes me uncomfortable." you confide to him.

"Why?" he asks cocking his head to one side with a small grimace twitching his face.

You sit down next to him, "I always saw sex as something awkward, strange. . . maybe because I didn't know my body, maybe because I never shared a truly intimate moment with another person, and maybe because I looked at sex as something deeply intimate and not to be talked about like that." you confide again "Do you think I'm strange?" you ask turning to him.

"Not at all. I'm a lucky old man." he says "Not everyone approaches sex immediately."

You nod, "Well, would you rather wash first - no innuendo - and then eat?"

"Okay, will you help me?" he asks looking to his side.

"Does it hurt?" you ask as you stand up and help him to his feet.

"A little, I think the painkillers wore off by now," he replies.

"Lean on me," you tell him, encircling his waist with your arm; he smiles at you, "Don't worry."

You help him get to the bathroom, then take off his T-shirt revealing himself in his might, he reveals to you once again his broad torso full of old and new scars and you again stand almost open-mouthed, you are very attracted to that strip of dark hair disappearing into his boxers. You look away feeling yourself flaming again.

"May I ask how you fell and what you were doing in the dark?" you ask as you wash his shoulders paying attention to the recent cuts and bruises present.

"Tess…" he replies with a sigh, shaking his head "she never shuts up." shortly after he adds "I heard that if we didn't complete the work on at least the upstairs by the beginning of next week, we won't going to get paid and I want to get paid because I busted my back on that fucking construction site!" he blurts out "And instead I put my foot wrong and fell with those tools. I'm an old fool." he exclaims with a sigh.

"You're not at all, you wanted to get paid for the hard work! But even if they don't have to pay you this job, though, you'll find another one," you tell him, passing the sponge between his neck and shoulders.

He shakes his head, "I don't know, the truth is maybe I should stop giving myself over to these things and do something else, even though this is what I am." he concludes by lowering his head.

"Joel," you say stopping washing him and squatting down next to him "don't talk like that about yourself, you're 47 years old it's true, but that doesn't mean you have to quit, it's true yours is a dangerous job, but you can still do it. Maybe not open construction sites, you could renovate single-story houses, you could do something a little less dangerous." you tell him abandoning the sponge and stroking his face "Look at me, please" he finally looks up "You're fine like this, you're perfect like this. It happens to everyone to fail, but if for every failure we said I'm not good enough I'd better give up, well we wouldn't live anymore!"

His formerly sad eyes become sweet and serene again, he reaches out a hand to you and caresses one cheek, this contact makes you close your eyes, you surrender to him, as always, whenever you are with him.

"You're sweet, I've always said so."

You smile looking into his eyes, "We need each other, did you see?"

He nods, "I'm taking your advice. Will you take one from me?" you look at him questioningly, "I read that there's in Seattle a contest for new writers, entries are due in June, why don't you sign up?"

A contest for new writers? Oh, it's always been your dream to sign up for a literary contest, but Seattle is so far away. . . so far away from him.

"I know that look," he says making you look up at him, "you don't have to say yes or no right away, think about it. I'd like to know and see you accomplished. I'd like to see a picture of you everywhere that says writer of the year." he says smiley and making you smile "Or maybe see you win the Pulitzer Prize." he adds making you smile nervously as your vision blurs "I don't want you to stay in that ugly, dreary little town, you have so much potential. It would be a shame to waste it over there in a bar or even in a library, I have nothing against people who do those jobs," he tells you, cupping your face and caressing your cheeks with his thumbs, "but I wouldn't want you to do that forever. You have a unique mind, you're brilliant, you're smart, you're too much to be confined only to yourself." you're crying, you can't hold back the tears anymore "Maybe someday someone might come and make some documentary about you and who knows they'll do some interviews around and they'll interview me too and I'll say I know her, I met the wonderful woman who's driving everybody crazy."

"Stop it," you tell him sobbing and hiding your face in your hands.

He calls you gently pulling you to him to hug you, you hide your face in the crook of his neck heedless of getting wet yourself. He holds you tightly to him, his hands caress your back, "'s okay, honey, 's okay." he says kissing your forehead, your cheek, your neck, your lips.

The truth is, you don't want to fulfill your dream if you know you have to leave him.

You surrender into his kisses, into his strong arms holding you to him trying to push that thought away as much as possible because, for you, it's not acceptable.

A/N Thank you for your support, for your likes and reblog, thank you, thank you, thank you ❤️If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging and leaving comments 🫶 if you don't like it don't be rude and keep going. 😉 Please remember English is not my first language, so please be merciful! 🙏 The girl in the gif has the purpose to represent the situation only 🙂

[lalalabelle]

"Everything i ever did, i did for you.."

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Reader

Warnings: just a lot of angst and some swearing

Summary: Yelling at Megumi about his stubbornness that reminds him of you.

Masterlist----check out the other stuff

"Why can't you just trust me?" Gojo chuckled to hide his frustration from Megumi while training at 2 o'clock in the afternoon. He didn't like having this conversation over and over again every time he went to train him and his other students.

"You can't just put someone in danger especially if it's your student!" Megumi was baffled at how unfazed his mentor was at the thought of another student risking his life to save his friend, to save him.

In truth, Gojo didn't like the thought of someone risking their life too but some things must be done in order to protect his loved ones and the son that he's adopted. He saw how willing Yuji was to fight for his friends and he just needed a little more increase in strength and power, that's why they have been training nonstop for the past few days and Megumi did not like that.

"Why can't we just be a team? Why can't i help him? We are supposed to stick together, doesn't that mean-" Gojo was pissed off now, he doesn't know how many times Megumi has argued with him about this and usually he would be calm about and try to reason with him but today wasn't a good day.

"In a real battle, you would not be there to protect him." Gojo glanced at Yuji and then back at Megumi. He did not understand why his student felt the need to question what he was doing when he has explained countless times that this was for the better.

"WHY NOT?!" Megumi was in disbelief when his teacher could only resonate that he would be out of the fight and that his friend was just going to fight for him. Gojo was shocked at his student's change in tone as he looked at him disapprovingly. "I WILL FIGHT. I'LL BE THERE-"

"Megumi..you don't know that." There was a lot of things he wanted to say, how his mind wasn't thinking clearly, how unpredictable the future is, how undefined the battles and wars are going to be, how even he doesn't know if everyone is going to live another day.

"YES. I. DO." Megumi was being stubborn, willing to do whatever it takes to convince his mentor that this wasn't what was best for him or what he wants. "If Yuji is going to fight, then we're going to fight together. All three of us"

Gojo looked away and closed his eyes, composing himself before saying something he might regret later. "You shouldn't even be near a fight! You are too important." He tried reasoning but he knew that it was hopeless, it was really hard to be on the sidelines and watching others fight for you when you are fully capable of doing it yourself.

"IM NOT!" Megumi yelled

"YES. YES YOU ARE" Gojo is getting impatient

"NO!" Snap!

Something broke inside Gojo as he felt tears on his eyes, threatening to fall.

He grabbed his blindfold and harsly ripped it out of his eyes and his tears were fully visible, looking at Megumi with desperation and sadness. "FUCK! WHY CAN'T YOU JUST LET ME DO THIS FOR YOU (Y/N)!" He yelled at Megumi then his eyes widened, he can't believe what he just said. He dropped his blindfold to the floor and walked away. "Enough about this. I'm done talking about it."

Megumi felt bad about the whole thing and went to comfort him under the large tree in their training grounds. "Gojo-sensei.."

"I'm sorry, i shouldn't have yelled at you today. It's just you look so much like her and it's funny 'cause you're not even related" He laughed bitterly and wiped his eyes looking at sky.

"She actually gave me something, it's like a hologram of our shared times together.." Megumi saw Gojo click something and then a hologram of you showed up infront of them, standing and smiling. Gojo kneeled to you like you were the most precious thing on this planet.

"Satoru.." The hologram of you spoke, frowning as you said his name. "Yes, love?" He replied back, eagerly looking at you like he had lost you for years.

"I want to be a sorcerer and protect people on this planet...you don't have to do this with me.." The hologram continued and looked at him sadly. "But i want to!" "I know you do.."

The hologram knelt down to his level and placed a hand on top of his. "Please understand..there's a possibility that we could die but even if we don't, we can never go back to our old lives again..."

Gojo shook his head as if saying that he does not care about those things if he can get to be with you. "Why would i want to go back to my old life, if you're here?" He tilts his head to the side and gives the hologram a grin that slowly turns into a sad smile.

You chuckled at his cute antics and cupped his cheek, looking at him fondly. "My satoru.."

"You're perfect..I-" When he went to touch your hand that was cupping his cheek, the hologram suddenly malfunctioned. Gojo looked down and sighed.

He sat back against the tree, looked at Megumi thrn back at the distance. "Everything i did, i did for her, and now she is in shoko's office passed out because i accidentally hurt her"

Megumi stayed silent and just listened to everything his teacher was saying.

"I guess since you were so much like her that i wanted someone to protect you too.."

[dronebiscuitbat]

Give me a Reason: Chapter 19 - "Best Freind"

N: U sure ur okay?

Uzi sighed as she crashed into her mattress, body feeling sore and head full of cotton balls. Tessa had just pulled out of the driveway and N was already texting her.

She wasn't sure when they'd actually become friends, maybe somewhere between ghost hunting and getting kicked in the gut she'd somehow made that connection. But she was absolutely not used to someone being this worried.

He'd incessantly asked what had happened for her to get so injured. And she'd incessantly deflected, either saying that it was nothing serious- which was bullshit, it hurt like hell. Or, at the cost of her ego- she lied and said it was an accident.

She just wasn't sure how he'd react to the truth, he'd probably be even more worried then, knowing that someone did this to her on purpose.

Or… he'd laugh at her. Because she was weak, because she'd put herself in a vulnerable position and then couldn't take a little pain an-

N: You can talk to me.

N: No pressure.

N: Just worried about you :(

The new messages stopped that train of thought. No. He wouldn't laugh. Even her chronic cynicism couldn't convince her of that.

Finally, instead of staring at his messages, she responded.

Uzi: Promise you won't say anything? Or laugh.

N: Promise

She sighed, here goes nothing…

Uzi: I got kicked in the stomach, u know how I seemed upset that I knew someone in my math class? It was them.

The reply actually took a minute to come back.

And that was because N had all of air knocked out of him at that reply. She'd been hit? Purposefully? And hard enough to give her a serious injury? Why? She was so nice! And cool!

N: Who?

Uzi: Lizzy, she's a teachers aid now, but she was in my class last year.

Uzi: It's not the first time she's thrown a punch, just caught me off gaurd this time.

Once again, N was floored, a teachers aid!?

N: I'd never laugh at you. But you should report her, she shouldn't be working with students if she thinks that's okay.

Uzi huffed through her nose, a half-laugh that was drenched in a depressing kind of acceptance.

Uzi: It's not like they'd believe me. I'm not exactly a model student.

She sat her phone down and shucked off her jacket and beanie, hissing as her side throbbed dully. This had been such a day…

Her hand instinctually reached for her stash drawer before she even realized, and in another, she was looking at it's false bottom.

As tempting as it was- and it was very tempting. Drug mixing wasn't smart even if one of them was just an over-the-counter pain reliever, and adding a bad trip on an already shitty day didn't sound fun.

So instead she wrapped herself in the biggest, comfiest shirt she could find and grabbed her laptop, maybe she could distract herself with YouTube.

N: What do you mean by that?

Oh right, she'd never mentioned the fact she'd been held back to him, whoops.

Uzi: I was held back a year. I'm 19.

N: Oh wow! You're older then me!

N: Still it can't have been that bad. Failing a class isn't a reason to not belive you.

Uzi smirked, fingers clicking on the keys of her laptop as she tried to find something to watch- settling on an analysis video of one of the shows she was watching.

Uzi: I was high in class and a teacher called the campus police.

It took nearly twenty minutes for him to respond to that.

N:Sorry, got home and had to get up to my room.

N:You were WHAT?!

N: That's a crime!

Uzi: And so is trespassing on JCJenson private property to ghost hunt.

N blushed, now laying on his bed in a grey pajama shirt and pants with dogs printed on them, he held his phone close to his face as he grumbled, she had him there, but that hadn't really felt like a crime at the time…

N: I think you're a bad influence.

N: Also you're deflecting, drugs are bad! And unhealthy!

Uzi rolled her eyes at that, he wasn't the first person to tell her that. But you know what was worse? Dealing with herself unmedicated, without her stash, her head just got fuzzier and fuzzier, and before she knew it… she'd be having a full mental meltdown at the slightest provocation. Which she hated, she never felt like herself during those…

Uzi: Probably. But you see why they won't believe me over miss perfect.

N: Yeah okay, now I'm gonna be worried tho. I don't want you being hurt.

She smiled at that, this boy was so endlessly empathetic, and thankfully, her unloading some not-so-great facts about herself didn't seem to put him off either.

Uzi: Ew, don't worry over me. That's gay.

And yet she couldn't help but make a joke over it.

N: ???

N: how?

N: how does my worry make me gay?

Uzi: It's not manly.

Uzi: Empathy is a girly emotion.

She was snickering to herself, she didn't actually believe that of course, but she could almost see his reaction to it. That stupid, confused and amused smile that he wore when she made a particularly dumb joke.

N: Guess I'm gay then.

N: Cause I'm always going to worry. You're my freind.

N:Best Freind?

Her heart fluttered full of butterflies at that. Is that what he wanted? From her? She was so convinced he'd find someone else to hang out with but here he was, asking to continue this…

Whatever this was.

Uzi: Always knew I'd end up with a gay best freind.

Uzi: u can't borrow my makeup.

N: Awww, but it would look so good on me!

Uzi thought about that for a moment, imagining N with dark eyeshadow, lipstick, and black nails, and she about choked, she wasn't sure if it was funny or weirdly attractive.

Uzi: Dude that mental image.

Uzi: It's so cursed, I about choked.

N: Blursed

N: It's Blessed and Cursed

The conversation continued, the fuzz in her head slowly dissipating even without the assistance of her stash, and it continued late into the night… up until she heard Khan pull onto the driveway at 2am.

Uzi: Oh god, it's 2am. We need to sleep.

N: I didn't realize! We're gonna be zombies…

Uzi: More of a zombie u mean?

N: Yeh. U still in pain? Are u going to sleep ohay?

N: Okay* oof, sleepy fingers.

Even while about to pass out. He was still worried…

Uzi: I'm okay, pain isn't bad. U need sleep N

N: Ok, text you tmmrow, Uzi. Goodnight.

Uzi: Night N.

[waechan]

nct dream hyung line; small moments

just little moments with each member.

fluff, slight angst (mostly cute)

⋆.˚

lee mark:

you two have been best friends since birth

he knows everything about you, and you know everything about him

he has a soft spot for you, confessed when you found him pacing at your doorstep one day with flowers

pretty quiet at school, sorta nerdy, but cute nerdy!

likes computers, plays basketball for fun

always sends you game pigeon as an excuse to develop conversation (even though you two are already dating)

plays guitar for you to help you fall asleep

you sing along with him sometimes and he always stares at you, smiling softly

works at his friends moms daycare and helps check the kids in and out

its late, 1 in the morning, and he calls you

you pickup, his voice is groggy

"can you come over?"

"of course."

you're there in an instant, you open the door, and you see him standing there in his pjs, looking lost

immediately you walk over, hug him tight, and he holds you, refusing to let go

"what's wrong?"

"i don't know what i'd do without you."

it's all he says, and it's all he needs to say.

"i love you too, mark."

2. huang renjun:

he was your tutor, and hated you, actually.

well, before you two started dating. and he fell for you without realizing. and you made him confess because you were tired of him being stubborn.

you were social, he wasn't

that's really all there was to it

you two basically competed for teachers pet privileges

it didn't start out that way, but you two got competitive for no reason

obviously he was smarter than you

"can you just shut up and listen to me for once?"

"can you just man up and admit you have feelings for me?"

yep, that's how it went.

he blushed

stumbled over his words.

you kissed him

he fell even harder.

little bickering moments like this always reoccurred in your lives, and sometimes people were convinced you actually hated each other

one day the two of you hang out with some of your mutual friends

you leave the cafe after having an intense debate about whether or not mint chocolate chip ice cream is overrated or not, leaving your friends behind after you had to go

"honestly, it tastes like toothpaste."

"can you just agree with your girlfriend? that's all there is to it."

he holds your hand and kisses the back of it as the two of you walk back, and nods

"yes maam."

3. lee jeno:

he was every girls dream

how did you manage to end up with someone like him?

by far the most popular guy at your school

everyone he looked at managed to become flustered

you were the sweet, yet quiet girl in the back

he still noticed you, every day he would look back at you without you noticing

one day, you were having a hard day

you just wanted to go home, wanted to sleep, wanted to forget about all the events that had happened prior which took a negative toll on your health

you see a piece of paper fall on your desk and the silhouette of jeno's shadow passes by

you look up and see him staring at you across the room

he nods

"open it." he mouths, his eye smile appears

you do so, and you immediately smile as you see what's inside

"turn that smile upside down!"

god, of course he had one chance and messed it up. it was so cliche, yet so jeno

and you didn't care that it was a bit on the cheesy side

you walk by him at the end of class

"i think you meant frown?" he gives you a look of confusion.

"wha- oh. oh shit."

popular jock, quiet girl. observer, and recipient.

sometimes though he needs help from you too

one night he stops by without even telling you

he walks through the door, hugs you, and pulls you into the living room

"nap time. please." he sounded so tired, so done.

you chuckle.

angel sent from above. that's what he was.

4. lee haechan:

best friends older brother

shouldnt even be an option tbh

but haechan was haechan, his teasing made you blush, his small acts of care for you never went unnoticed

the three of you went to a cafe

your best friend ordered, then went to the restroom

you ordered your drink

he pushed you to the side

ordered his drink as well

paid for you like nothing happened

"haechan you really didn't have to-"

he puts a finger to his lips as his eyes twinkle, and he smiles gently at you

"i wanted to"

fast forward

you're official and he will not leave your side

always attached to you, in public he glares at any guy who stares at you for a millisecond too long

you walk into a clothing store and the worker smiles at you

"hi, do you need help finding anything?"

haechan pops out of nowhere and grabs your hand

"uh, no, i think we're good, thanks."

he pulls you away immediately

"what was that for??? he was just asking for help..." you whine

"nuh uh, no he wasn't. i know how guys work."

you chuckle. just go with it.

whatever makes him happy.

⋆.˚

let me know if you want the maknae line version! it's my first post on tumblr:) i am taking suggestions as well

[hopeyblogs]

thank thank you kitties for the likes and reblogs. I've never been so happy <33 Words cannot express how much y'all are so supportive. So let me express my love to you kitties <333 i still can't write spicy imagines I'm sorry :'(

shy, handsome, nerdy. He's so beautiful

staring softly at him and admiring his serious face. He's just so pretty

flushed face, glasses sliding down his nose.

you pushed his glasses back up on his face and held his cheeks a little longer than intended.

"It was falling down baby. Your welcome"

He's quiet.

"Thanks" a spritz of his inhaler was heard

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

In class sitting besides him. You just watched the teacher blabbing nonsense.

Cold hands on your thighs. You know it was him.

"Miss me that much Rowan??" his fingers were long and veiny. It almost covers your whole thigh

"yes. I miss you. That stunt you pulled yesterday wasn't funny"

"Can't i do things for my boyfriend?"

He squeezed your thighs harder. God your skin was so plush and soft. skin peeking through his fingers.

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

He's stubborn. Like very

Will do anything to make sure he gets his way

makes you give up in trying to convince him

"Baby don't you have fencing practice?"

"no I don't"

"yes you have fencing practice. Why are clinging to me. Go get ready for practice"

Hugs you tighter and snore on your chest.

"get up. You're gonna miss it"

no response just more snores.

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

An attention seeker

he's like a cat. He will demand attention in any way possible

You're doing homework? no you're cuddling him

"Are you busy?"

"yes baby. I'm finishing this one subject"

he walks closer to you and pulls you up to your feet

"What do you need hun? Let me finish my work ok?"

No means no. He drags you to the bed and holds you down. Body splayed out ontop of you.

"I wanna sleep. Love you" ??

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

Loves being babied. If you act anyway like a mother to him he will get attached

fixing his tie, cleans his glasses, clean up his bruises, You've done it all

you'll drop everything when he's sick

"Rowan. Why is your glasses smudged? Come here" You take his glasses and wipes it clean with a microfibre cloth you always carry around

"Here you go hun" you help him puts the glasses on.

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

"Come here baby. Your hair is a mess" You'll softly combs it away from his face.

"Isn't that better? You look much more well kept" You say

He kisses you as a thank you

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

An act of service man for his love language

he's very shy and has a hard time expressing his thoughts so he uses actions

Loves helping you and doing everything possible.

He'll pay for your drinks and everything.

"How much?" you ask the barista while getting your purse out

"18.40 miss"

a 20 dollar bill just appeared on the counter

"Rowan. I can pay you know."

"I know" he takes the bag from the barista and holds your hands.

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

You were walking around town

He suddenly bends down?

"Your shoelaces were untied. You'll trip later on" he says while getting up

"Thanks baby but i wouldn't mind tripping for you know?" You reply while giving him a kiss on the cheek.

He's red at that

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

You're currently in the library getting some books to borrow. Rowan's with you.

Once you chosen the books to borrow he'll take them and carries them

"Oh. Thank you baby. You're so sweet" You feel appreciated and gives him a quick kiss on the lips

He's so sensitive. You've seen cry multiple times when he's stressed

He searches for you when he's at the verge of breaking down

Once he finds you he'll just give his whole body to you

"Oh Rowan. What happened darling?" You asks while holding him and petting his head

"nothing" he hides his face in your chest.

"I'm here ok? You can cry if you want baby" you cooed while rubbing his back

He trusts you. He'll tell you everything about his past life

"Come here baby. You're ok now. You're safe ok?" You say while pulling him to your body. You pet his head and kisses his face

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

He sneaks out of his dorm and goes to your dorm. Soft knocks wakes you up.

"Rowan? Is something wrong hun?" You ask while inviting him inside your dorm.

"I had a nightmare" You instantly pulls him to your bed and cuddles him. Offering kisses and hushed whispers of affirmations.

"You're ok baby. don't worry. I'm here. I love you so so much"

soft snores and comfortable breathing. He's ok with you.

[talaok]

Hot teach

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader

Summary: you force Joel to go ice-skating

Warnings: none I think, just Joel being a touchy menace

A/n: I'm not gonna lie, I wrote this mostly for myself cause I went icekating today and a girl is obsessed and I couldn't help but wonder how it would have been with my man. also i do be a lil bit tipsy so forgive me if this isn't really all that great, i just wanted to write something cute to daydream about when im falling asleep

"oh c'mon babe you're not even trying!" you laughed, watching as he gripped the banister for dear life

"I am, trust me I am, this thing it's just hard" he grunted, almost falling in the process of trying to look at you

"Joel Miller" you stated, moving so you were in front of him "You've done harder things in your life" you said, raising an eyebrow, "now c'mon, take my hands and get away from there"

He sighed, looking down at those deathly ice skates attached to his feet 

"darlin' if I die 'cause of this I'll be real mad"

"you won't die" you chuckled, holding out your hands for him "now c'mon, hold onto me"

And with great difficulty, and very very slowly, he managed to do it, he was finally away from the edge of the skate rink.

"there, see, wasn't that hard"

"I wouldn't say that exactly"

"oh shut up" you rolled your eyes "Now just like I taught you: bend your knees, then lift one foot, and try to gly"

You watched as he just stood there, looking at you uncertainly

"I'll be here the whole time, I won't let go" you promised, trying to calm his nerves

"sweetheart I don't know if I'm cut out for this type of stuff"

You smiled, reducing the distance between you

"You can do it, baby" you murmured, kissing his cheek "Just give it a try, trust me"

And so he did, almost falling, but he did nonetheless.

"there" you grinned "that was good"

"you ain't gotta lie now doll" he shook his head "Those kids over there are doing better than me" he joked, his eyes going to a group of 10-year-olds to your right

You couldn't help but laugh

"I meant for the first try" you explained "You just need a little practice"

That's how the next half hour passed: practicing.

He kept holding onto you as you skated backward to follow his movements while he moved towards you, and with time, he was even able to skate by your side, his hand still in yours and at a speed slower than a turtle's, but still, it was definitely an improvement.

Convincing him to go ice skating with you hadn't been an easy task, but (as always) you had done it. I mean, it was almost Christmas and they had built a big ice skating ring so close to your house, what else were you supposed to do but drag him to it?

"you're basically a professional" You smiled as you took a break, holding on to the edge of the rink

"absolutely" he laughed "I'm sure that kid I almost killed while falling would also agree"

"Oh yes" you giggled "I'm sure he would"

A moment passed, as you let the sound of laughter and Christmas music flow into your ears 

"You're beautiful sweetheart" he murmured, his hand now holding your waist and making you face him

"where's that coming from?" you smiled, raising your hand to fix his hair, just for it to fall to his shoulder

"I've been thinking it all day, I was just a little preoccupied before" 

"is that right?"

"sure is" he smirked, the distance between you now completely gone "You're hot when you teach me stuff, y'know?"

You laughed "Oh yeah?"

"yeah" he breathed, ghosting his lips "I've got the most gorgeous teacher in the world," he said, a moment before kissing you, like really kissing you, like it didn't matter that people and kids were all around you type of kiss.

You whimpered into his mouth as his hands traveled lower to find your ass through your jeans.

"I know what you're doing mister" you purred, leaving a quick kiss on his lips again 

"oh yeah and what's that?" he asked, not giving you time to answer before he was devouring you again, his tongue exploring your mouth ever so heavenly

"I'm sorry to break it to you Miller, but you aren't gerring out of this so easily" you smiled, crushing all his hopes "We've paid for another hour, and I'm not letting it go to waste"

"sugar c'm-"

"don't even try baby" You shook your head, leaving a soft kiss on his reddened nose "you still have a lot of practice to do" you smirked, "but hey at least you've got a hot teach"

[mrsfrecklesmarauders]

Lily couldn't stop crying. Sirius had never seen her like this and it made him really uncomfortable. If it would be any other girl, at least Sirius would say something funny to cheer her up. Although with The Ginger it was different.

Instead of helping her or comforting her, Sirius observed how thick tears fell down her cheeks, ruining all her makeup. And how she blew her nose with the same piece of paper over and over again. Disgusting. Sirius wrinkled his nose.

That girl was something strange all together. Sirius had never met someone like her.

She wasn't a pretty girl for him, but she wasn't ugly. She was loud, upfront and annoying. But at the same time, so innocent and naive that it was unbelievable for a girl her age. They were both intelligent but Sirius was all about fun. Lily was all about effort. Teachers loved her. Students loved her. Remus loved her. And James adored her. Sirius didn't understand why.

Sirius had learned to like Marlene and Mary, even other girls like Dorcas, and Alecto.

But there was something about this girl that Sirius simply couldn't stand.

He didn't understand how James could be so obsessed with her. Sirius kind of resented her for how she had treated him over the years, how she had rejected him. For Sirius, James was so amazing that he deserved so much better.

However now, Sirius was surprised to see how Lily cared for James. After the nasty accident during rugby with a rough visitor team, in which James had hit his head so hard, it started bleeding through his untamed curls and he passed out, they all went through a tense moment. They all cried scared for James's wellbeing. Sirius was still kind of shaking.

But it was over now. James had gotten some stitches. He was still unconscious because he lost too much blood but Poppy had said he would be fine.

Sirius hadn't wanted to leave his side. Neither as Lily. The way she stared at James through tears was something Sirius had never seen before. The way she grabbed his hand and kissed it. The way she whispered encouraging things to him.

Seeing that, made Sirius sentimental. He even felt goosebumps. And he knew in that instant that no one would love his best friend like Lily Evans in that moment.

Although Sirius was allergic to vulnerability. He was still learning to embrace his feelings for Remus. Sirius simply didn't want to admit Lily Evans might be the love of James's life. They were still young. So young.

"Jesus Christ, Ginger" Sirius exclaimed when Lily bursted into tears once again "This is not Prongs's funeral, alright? He is fine"

Even joking about James's death made Sirius feel a cold shiver. He just couldn't imagine it. So he added:

"He will be just fine" trying to convince himself of it as well.

Lily sniffed wiping her tears again.

"I got so scared of losing him" she said as she caressed his cheek "I... I love him, Sirius. I love him so much"

Sirius moved uncomfortably on his chair.

'Who do you think you are?' Sirius thought 'I love him more. Nobody loves him like I do. Nobody got as scared as me'

Sirius didn't say any of that.

"He's fine" he mumbled "Don't exaggerate"

Lily's red puppy eyes focused on him without discretion. Sirius looked away. He hated how sometimes she scanned people as they were interesting books.

"Hey Sirius..."

"Shsh..." Sirius silenced her "You're gonna wake him up" he whispered pointing at James.

Lily ignored him.

"You know, I've been trying so hard for you to like me. For us to get along. But it is impossible" she said with a sigh "What did I do for you to hate me so much?"

Sirius was surprised by this conversation. He took a look at the door, begging for someone else to come back and mediate. Well Remus, only Remus.

"I don't hate you" he shrugged.

"You are jealous because you think I will take James away from you, don't you?"

Sirius leaned in defiantly. She mirrored his position. James sleeping between them. "That's ridiculous!"

'Nobody can't take James away from me' he thought 'Right?'

Lily smiled teasingly as if she was reading his thoughts.

"I am in love with him, Sirius" Lily leaned back on her chair, crossing her arms comfortably. Something odd considering the fact she was drowning in a sea of tears minutes ago. And she looked ridiculous with a pinky nose and ran makeup "You love him as a best friend"

Sirius almost rolled his eyes.

"I am not leaving him. Not now, not ever" she snapped "And obviously you will always be his best friend" then she leaned in again. "Seems to me we will have to learn to stand each other. Right?"

Sirius suddenly felt a knot on his throat.

He might've looked tense because Lily softened her expression and reached his hand.

"Sirius, I like you" she said with a soft smile "We could be good friends"

Sirius stared for a second at her hand on his. Then pulled his hand away.

The girl was trying. Sirius was a difficult best friend. James was better. He obviously accepted Remus as Sirius’s boyfriend. Of course they were best mates after all. But Sirius knew whoever Sirius fancy, whoever made him happy, James would try his best to like them as well. James was a gentleman like that.

It was about time Evans realized how amazing James was. Sirius couldn't live without him.

Now he felt tears filling up his eyes. So he looked away. He was so pathetic still.

Lily sighed in disappointment and turned to look at James as he was waking up.

They both became alert.

James groaned and moved from side to side before opening his eyes. He had been sleeping for hours and hours because of pain killers. Poppy did say his head would ache when he woke up.

Although he smiled when he saw them.

"Hey"

Sirius smiled but before he could say anything, Lily was speaking.

"Hey, hey darling..."

Sirius wanted to tell her to give James some space, she was too close.

"How are you feeling?" she added.

James seemed happy but he was closing his eyes.

"Kind of dizzy..." he swallowed "Everything is blurry"

It was Sirius who grabbed his glasses from the nightstand. Lily grabbed the glass of water from her side.

"Here you go, mate"

"You must be thirsty"

They both spoke at the same time, handing James their respective things.

"Thank you, gorgeous"

James said as he took his glasses and put them on. But also took a sip of water. So Sirius didn't know if he was speaking to him or Evans. He was flirty with both like that.

They both waited for James to blink and wake up for good, but he seemed sleepy still. Maybe the medicine had been strong.

James noticed how his girlfriend and best friend were very pendant of him and smiled.

"Am I dead and reached Heaven?" James asked dreaminly. "I think I am surrounded by angels"

They both laughed realizing James was still under the effects of the medicine.

"God is real, mum. You were right" he added "And he blessed me with angels who look exactly like my two loves"

Sirius and Lily looked shyly at each other, hiding smiles.

"My beautiful girlfriend" James squeezed Lily's cheek "And my beautiful best friend" he patted Sirius’s cheek.

Sirius let out a giggle. He was so happy James was okay.

Meanwhile, Lily's eyes filled with tears again.

"God! I was so worried about you, Potter!" then leaned in to kiss him on the lips "Don't ever scare me like that!"

James smirked, eyes half closed.

"Oh smoochy angel! You kiss just like her..." James exclaimed "Just like my Lily"

Lily laughed happily "You are an idiot" she kissed him again.

Sirius noticed how they were intertwing fingers at this point. But James's eyes were on Sirius.

"Do you kiss as well handsome angel?" James asked raising his eyebrows suggestively.

Sirius laughed because he knew it was not the medicine. It was just James. His silly James.

"You wish, Potter" Sirius pushed James's face away as he continuously blew him some kisses.

"Lily won't tell Remus, I promise"

Sirius snorted and Lily shook her head with a smile.

"Speaking of Remus" Sirius stood up from his chair "I'll let everyone know you're awake"

Sirius was relieved now that James was fine. He was fine. Now he wanted to leave before he bursted into tears. Maybe he understood why Lily was upset and crying before.

They both loved James. Differently but as intensely. And maybe she was right. They would have to learn to share James. And be civil about it.

"I'll give you some time as well, Mr. and Mrs. Potter"

He said this looking at Lily. And almost smiled. Almost.

Lily, on the other hand, was giving him a bright smile. Sirius hated how good she was.

Before Sirius walked away, he hesitated but turned to James. James Potter was Sirius’s family. He was Sirius’s home.

"Hey Prongs"

James looked at him.

"I'm so glad you're okay"

And luckily he finished talking before his voice broke.

James smiled at him and extended his hand for Sirius. The latter grabbed it breafly before walking away to the door.

Sirius turned once more to see the mellow couple in front of him. The way they looked at each other, the way they whispered things to each other. They way they touched each other's faces delicately. And the way they kissed...

Sirius couldn't get between that. His best friend was in love with Lily Evans, she made him happy and viceversa. So Sirius would have to learn to like her. He was not going to be a bitch anymore.

[intoanotherworld23]

Caught Red Handed

Pairings: Reader x Chris Evans, Reader x Miles Teller

Warnings: NSFW 18+ ONLY DNI, yeah this whole thing is just pure smut and sex sex sex so you have been warned

Summary: You’ve been sleeping with two of your very attractive teachers for a while now, and so far you haven’t been caught

Two of my favorite men in one writing, what could be better?? Hearts, reblogs, and comments are very much welcomed and appreciated please and thank you!! If you wish to be added to a tag list let me know and I’ll be more than happy to add you! Thank you guys so much! XOXO

✨Please do not copy and paste my work or steal my work or publish my work as your own or I will have you reported✨

"Off to see your lover?" Turning around to your friend smirking at you. "Or should I ask which lover?"

"Maybe I'm going to see both." You wiggled your eyebrows making her laugh. Shuffling through your best lingerie deciding which one to wear.

"I can't believe you are actually sleeping with two professors." She shook her head. "It's a matter of time before you get caught."

"I'm not going to get caught Y/F/N." Rolling your eyes as you finalized your look.

"What happens if you do though?" She asked making you stop for a minute. "You will get expelled and two amazing teachers get fired, and possible sent to jail."

"That's not going to happen I promise you." You reassured her, but she still didn't look convinced.

She sat there on the bed watching as you adjusted your outfit so make yourself look more seductive. You knew she secretly judged you for what you were doing, but at the same time you knew that she envied you.

Nobody else on campus knew about this affair, and you planned to keep it that way. You never meant for it to go on this long, but you just couldn't help it.

Crazier thing is neither teacher knew about the other. They thought they were the only one, and the last thing you wanted was for them to find out about the other.

"Whatever happened to that one boy you were talking to?" She asked you once again. "He was really nice and quite good looking."

"Yeah he was, but he wasn't exactly on my level." That was true though he wasn't up to speed with your sex drive. If anything it would probably scare him off.

"Oh come on he was perfect for you." She tried convincing you once again.

"He was good for a one night stand and that's it." Looking over your makeup in the mirror. "I need someone that can handle me."

"And fucking two teachers is the answer to that?" You knew she wasn't asking a question, but was rather being a smart ass.

"Please can we not do this right now I don't want it to ruin my mood." Groaning as you put on your shoes.

"Don't wait up for me." Mumbling as you shut the door behind you without looking at her.

Walking down to your car as you tightened the coat around you. Hearing your phone buzz multiple times indicating someone was texting you. Pulling it out with a grin on your face.

From Chris: God I can't wait to feel between those legs.

From Chris: I hope your dripping for me.

From Chris: Baby you got my cock so hard and you aren't even here yet.

From Chris: I'm gonna fuck that pussy so hard sweetheart

Laughing to yourself at how worked up he already was for you. You were in for a long night ahead of you.

——————————————

"Chris." Choking out a moan as your back arched off the bed.

The smirk on his face grew even larger hearing you moaning his name. If anything it encouraged him to keep pounding into you harder.

"Can feel you squeezin my cock sweetheart." He chuckled as he watched your face contort in pleasure. "Such a tight little pussy for me."

Feeling your orgasm building up again as you turned your head to the side, and gripped the sheets beneath you. Biting onto the pillow trying to muffle your screaming.

"Say my name again baby." He whispered into your ear as he sharply thrusted inside of you making you squeal.

"Oh god Chris." Your toes curling against the bed as he tightened his grip on your hips. "Chris."

"Fuck that's it sweetheart let everyone know whose fucking you so good." His thrusting was slowing down, but just as powerful. "Such a good girl."

“Stuffed full of my cock.” He’s never felt more powerful and strong than he did right now.

Rotating his hips at a certain angle had your legs trembling. Leaning forward so he could attach his lips to yours. His mouth swallowing all your moans his movements never once missing beat.

"Your pussy so sweet it won't let me go." His stated matter of factly as his fingers reached down to rub your clit.

"God the sounds you make for me sweetheart." His eyes trained down to where his cock was disappearing. Your juices coating his cock making him groan at the sight.

Closing your eyes for a brief moment as the pleasure was taking over your body. Feeling a hand grip your chin making you open your eyes to see those sparkling blue eyes staring you down.

"Look at me when you cum around my cock." He growled as the veins in his neck popped out.

Leaning on his forearms so his hands were on either side of your face. It was such an intimate moment, but you found yourself entranced with his eyes. Like he was holding onto you and didn't want to let you go.

"Oh fuck right there." You screamed as he hit your sweet spot. The pleasure boiling to the top you felt you might explode. "Harder Chris."

Opening your legs even further so he could thrust deeper. The muscles straining to the point it was painful, but feeling his condition inside you motivated you to keep them open.

"Such a cock hungry slut for me." Groaning against the skin of your neck before his lips moved downward towards your breasts.

Sucking on the nipples turning them raw and hard. One of your hands reaching out to grip his hair as your senses were overwhelmed. Feeling him smile against your flesh as to how he was making you feel.

"Can feel how fucking close you are sweetheart." His words making your legs shake. "Pussy always begging for me."

The moans were just spilling from your lips you didn't care who heard you. Your body twitching and moving all around unable to control yourself anymore. The warmth was spreading through out your whole body.

"Cum for me baby." His voice straining as he was trying to control himself as well. "Cum around my cock."

"Be a good girl and squeeze that pussy for me." He encouraged with his filthy words. Feeling that burning in the pit of your stomach as you were on the edge.

His movements stopped as his cock remained still inside of you as your pussy clenched hard around him. Both of your groaning as you looked each other in the eye.

“We’re getting better at this.” He joked making you laugh.

“Told you practice would make perfect.” Giving him a sly wink a huge grin appearing on his face.

“I’m gonna have to wash these sheets cause of you.” Taking note of the wet spots underneath you.

“That’s your fault asshole.” Smacking his shoulder playfully at his comment.

“Yes I guess you’re right,” leaning his head towards your ear his lips brushing against your lobe, “I got that pussy gushing.”

Burying his head in the crook of your exposed neck giving you comforting kisses. Rolling over so he's on his back as well. The room is silent and you decide to get up, and start getting dressed.

"Are you spending the night?" Chris finally spoke. Before you could respond your phone vibrated.

Reaching over to grab it to see who it's from slightly smiling when you see the familiar name, and the timing couldn't have been anymore perfect.

From Miles: I miss your wet pussy

From Miles: When are you coming over slut?

To Miles: Soon! Keep your cock in your pants

From Miles: That's asking a lot sweetheart considering you didn't ask me to do that the other night.

"Who is that?" Chris asked making you put your phone away.

"Uh it was just my roommate." Turning around to look at him. "Just wants to know if I can help her with her essay."

"I mean I am a teacher maybe I can help." He chuckled as he got out of bed, and stood right in front of you wrapping his arms around your waist.

"As much as I would love to accept that offer I just can't." Pushing yourself away from him so you could get finished getting dressed.

"Why?" His voice sounded disappointed but also angry at the same time. "Got another date?"

"No of course not." You chuckled nervously. "I just told you my roommate needs me."

"If you don't want to spend the night with me just say it." His tone changing making your stomach churn.

"That's not it at all." You became defensive not liking being put on the spot light like that. "Besides this isn't anything serious."

"Yeah your right you're just some girl I'm fucking." His words a punch to your gut. Not believing he actually just said that to you.

First he wants you to spend the night with him, and then he turns around and says your just some girl he's fucking. Maybe he was just trying to hurt you, but still it was completely uncalled for.

"Right yeah of course go help your roommate." His warms hands left your body now leaving you feeling cold.

A part of you felt horrible for sleeping with two teachers, and keeping it a secret. At the same time thought you loved having the attention of two handsome men.

Chris was absolutely everything you wanted in a man. He was not afraid to give you what you wanted and more. Plus he had this sweet side to him that made your heart swoon.

The sex with him was incredible, and it was never vanilla. A lot of the times he would put your needs before his. If you wanted your pussy eaten out all day he damn sure would do it. Chris was every woman's dream man, and you didn't think you deserved him at times.

Miles though was a bad boy that every girl dreamed of having. He was rough and edgy and didn't want all that sweet sentimental shit. He was the type he wanted his cock sucked whenever he wanted it, and he would shove you out the door whenever he was done.

At first it turned you off but you couldn't stay away from him. He literally treated you like his own personal slutty slave. Although at times he did have his sweet moments.

"Leave the door unlocked I've got someone else coming over." His voice was harsh and empty towards you. As he walked away not even bothering to say goodbye.

Feeling your throat swelling up as you stood there in bewilderment. Out of the two of them you were starting to grow feelings for Chris. You were pushing him away and you hated doing that. Trying to keep the tears from falling you quickly walked out the door, and drove over to Sebastian's home.

——————————————

"Ride my cock you dirty little slut." His hands gripped your hips harshly they would definitely leave bruises.

"God your such a greedy little bitch for me." His hand came down hard on your ass that stung. "So eager to please me."

Moving your hips up and down as you tried to keep up with him, but he wasn't slowing down. Your thighs were starting to become sore, but it would be a waste of breath to tell him that.

Besides you didn't think you would still be horny after Chris, but you were. It was almost like Chris's words field the fire inside of you and you just became horny out of spite.

"Oh god fuck." You squealed as his cock was hitting your sweet spot over and over again. Your nails scraping down his chest leaving scratches. "Oh yes oh my god."

"Your tight pussy is squeezing my cock so hard." He groaned as he looked down to where you two were connected.

"Jesus just look at how soaked you are for me." Growling as he looked back to your face. "I want to hear you scream my name."

His hand slapped your ass multiple times sure to leave a hand print. It stung like hell but fuck did it feel good. That was one thing about Miles he loved to spank you so hard tears came to your eyes. You loved it just as much since the pleasure cancelled the pain.

"If only everybody knew what a cock hungry slut you are for me." He groaned as he watched you bounced up and down on his cock, your breasts moving up and down.

"Fucking your teacher like this." He always loved throwing that fact in your face. "Might have to fuck you in my classroom next."

"You're just a filthy little whore." He thrusted sharply into you with each single word. "All mine to fuck whenever I want."

"Go on for me slut let everyone know who is fucking the shit out of you." His hand reached up to grip your throat so he was choking you. The sensation was bringing you even more pleasure as you felt your cheeks heating up.

Both of your hands wrapped around his to keep it there. You could feel yourself climbing over the edge and it was a matter of minutes before you were to your orgasm.

"I own this pussy." His voice deep as he looked straight into your eyes. "This is my pussy to fuck."

"Such a greedy slut for my cock." Your eyes were rolling into the back of your head.

"I'm gonna cum." You wailed as you felt the urge to go hitting you right in the stomach. "Shit shit shit."

"Soak my cock baby." He commanded you as one of his hands crept downwards to rub your clit harshly. "I can feel that pussy squeezing me."

"Oh my god." You screamed as your entire body shook and your orgasm smacked you in the face. Tears forming in your eyes with the intensity.

"Fuck me that's it." Miles groaned as his cock twitched inside of you. "So fucking good."

His hand lightly tapping your ass making you giggle. Whenever his playful side made an appearance you couldn't help but get all giddy and warm inside.

Both of you sweating and breathing heavily as you sat on top of him. No words were said as he moved making you get off of him. His cock slipping from your body making you hiss.

The room was quiet as you awkwardly sat there with his and your cum dripping from your pussy. Wondering if you should just leave or make small talk.

"I'll be on my way then." You mumbled as you hopped off the bed, and started to put on your clothes. Putting your clothes on when a voice called out.

"Wait." Turning around towards Miles surprised he was talking to you. Usually once you two were done he would say a word or two, but he never asked you to stay. It was a silent agreement you two had.

A look of hope written across your face that he would ask you to stay or something. Maybe things were looking up with Miles. Your heart was pounding as you stood there waiting for his next words.

"Get my smokes for me." Your jaw almost dropped to the floor. That's all that asshole wanted was for you to get his smokes. In disbelief you grabbed his smokes and tossed them to him.

What in the actual fuck was going on today? First with Chris and now with Miles. Getting the best kind of sex you could ever imagine only to be treated like absolute dog shit the next. Today wasn’t your day, and all that excitement you felt with them was starting to disappear.

Miles, you weren't really surprised he was treating you like this, but he had you thinking for a split second he wanted to talk or that he would start treating you differently. Silently hoping Miles would show you his sweet and romantic side for once.

He started to play on his phone without even glancing your way. You were so uncomfortable you honestly couldn't even just walk out the door, but that's exactly what you did.

Slamming the door behind you hoping he got the message. Pulling your phone out of your purse dialing the one number you probably shouldn't be calling. Right now you were feeling a little bit upset, and thought if you apologized to him you’d feel better.

Standing in front of his house as you looked down at the ground in shame. Praying he would answer, but not being surprised if he didn't. He probably didn't want to speak with you right now.

Hearing the call go through all of a sudden you heard ringing around you. Looking at your phone wondering why it sounded like the call was coming from right in front of you.

Slowly raising your head to see what was going on you saw Chris standing in front of his car with his phone in his hand while it was still ringing. A stoic look on his face while you stood there in shock. Your entire body went cold, and your face felt numb.

"Fuck." Quietly whispering to yourself when you realized the situation you were now in.

He had this dark and dangerous look in his eye you were almost scared of him. Unable to speak as you just stood there and stared at him. Watching his jaw clench, and the hand by his side clenching into a fist. He was trying so hard to restrain himself right now. He wanted to bend you over his car, and spank you so hard you begged him to stop.

"I think you have some explaining to do sweetheart." You heard Miles voice behind you making you jump as a shiver ran up your spine.

“You’ve been a very naughty girl.” Chris tsked as he slowly approached you. Miles wrapping his arms around your waist feeling his erection pressing into your back side. “Fucking two men. Two teachers at that.”

“What should we do with her?” Miles said to Chris as he nibbled on your ear biting down making you whimper.

“I’d say she needs to be punished.” Chris smirking as Miles smacked your backside a gasp escaping your lips. “Until we feel she’s learned her lesson.