#and the pressure of a pen pinned against my fingers and the sounds of paper being shuffled and the smell of a card deck and my mother's

[keeps-ache]

i grab my computer; 'i'm gonna draw something' but i have no actual idea of what i'll draw. 'it'll come to me'

it has been five hours what have i been doing ???

[bitchiswild]

Office Seduction

GP Lisa x F! Reader Word Count: 1.8k Warnings: Smut 🫶 A/n: Lisa is so fine🤤 REQUESTED

@lilacura FOR YOUUUUUUUUU BABYYY😝❤️

"Hmm, that's it, baby," Lisa moaned, her fingers entwined in your hair as you pleasured her. Her gaze, filled with desire and appreciation, met yours as you sucked eagerly on her cock.

"Your mouth feels amazing, baby. You're such a good girl for helping me relieve this stress," Lisa groaned, her head tilting back against the plush office chair. The weight of her responsibilities seemed to melt away as you skillfully attended to her needs.

Your wife, Lisa, had summoned you to her office building in a moment of desperation, seeking solace from the overwhelming pressure of her day. Without hesitation, you abandoned your own tasks and rushed to her side, eager to provide the comfort and release she craved.

As Lisa's arousal grew, her words became more breathless and unrestrained. "Mmm, yeah, that's it," she moaned, her grip on your hair tightening as you continued your eager ministrations. Saliva mixed with precum dripped down your chin as you hungrily devoured her, the wet sounds of your movements echoing in the office.

"God, your mouth is so sloppy, so good baby," Lisa gasped, her body trembling with pleasure. Her office chair creaked under the force of her shifting weight as she sought to get even closer to you. With each thrust of her hips, she pushed deeper into your mouth, reveling in the messy, uninhibited sensation.

You could feel yourself becoming lost in the moment, consumed by the intoxicating blend of desire and filth. Lisa's moans grew louder, punctuated by the occasional whimper of ecstasy as she reached the brink of release. In this private sanctuary of lust and abandon, you were both free to indulge in the raw, unbridled passion that connected

"God, I'm gonna cum," she gasped, her voice trembling with anticipation. With one final thrust, she released herself into your mouth, her moans echoing off the walls of the office.

As Lisa pulled out of your mouth, you looked up at her with a mischievous glint in your eyes, your tongue adorned with her seed. With a wicked grin, you swallowed her cum, savoring the taste and watching as a shiver of pleasure ran through her body.

"Fuck, baby, you're so dirty," Lisa groaned, her desire evident in the huskiness of her voice. Unable to resist any longer, she pulled you into a passionate kiss, tasting herself on your lips.

Lisa's hands roamed over your body, she guided you to sit on her desk, her touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake, each piece of clothing removed, Lisa's breath grew heavier, her voice husky with desire. "God, you look so hot like this," she murmured, her hands trailing along the contours of your body. "I've been craving you all day, baby."

You couldn't help but respond in kind, your own voice rough with need. "I need you, Lisa," you whispered, your words punctuated by urgent kisses. "I need to feel you, all of you."

As their bodies pressed together in a feverish embrace, the air between them crackled with anticipation. "I want you to fuck me, Lisa," you gasped, your fingers tangling in her hair. "I want to feel you deep inside me."

Lisa's eyes darkened with desire as she met your gaze, her own words laced with a primal hunger. "I'm going to make you scream my name," she growled, her hands gripping your hips possessively. "I'm going to take you until you can't think straight."

She pushed you back onto her desk with a force that stole your breath away. The sudden movement caused a cascade of papers, pens, and office supplies to tumble to the floor, forgotten amidst the intensity of their desire.

Lisa took control, pinning your wrists above your head with one hand as she positioned herself between your legs. The air crackled with electricity as she leaned in close, her lips brushing against yours in a searing kiss that left you dizzy with need.

"Ready for me, baby?" Lisa's voice was a husky whisper against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. Without waiting for an answer, she plunged into you with a ferocity that stole your breath away, her movements rough and unrelenting.

Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room. The desk beneath you groaned in protest, unable to withstand the force of your passion as it rocked and shifted beneath you.

Lisa's voice dripped with desire as she leaned in close, her lips brushing against yours between each heated breath. "You like it rough, don't you, baby?" she murmured, her voice laced with a raw intensity that sent shivers down your spine. "You want me to fuck you hard and fast?"

Your response was lost in a guttural moan as Lisa's relentless pace drove you to the edge of ecstasy. "Yes, yes," you gasped, your words barely coherent amidst the overwhelming pleasure. "I want it rough, Lisa. I want you to take me."

With a feral grin, Lisa unleashed a barrage of dirty talk, each word a deliciously wicked promise of what was to come. "You're mine, baby," she growled, her voice low and commanding. "I'm going to fuck you senseless."

Her words sent a surge of arousal coursing through your veins as you surrendered to the intensity of her passion. The desk beneath you groaned in protest as your bodies moved in perfect sync, the sound of your lovemaking echoing through the room.

As the pleasure built to a fever pitch, you felt yourself teetering on the edge of oblivion. "God, Lisa, I'm gonna cum," you cried, your voice raw with need.

With a triumphant smirk, Lisa quickened her pace, driving you both to the brink of ecstasy. "Cum for me, baby," she whispered, her voice a seductive purr in your ear. "Let go and give me everything you've got."

And with those words ringing in your ears, you surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure, your body exploding in a torrent of release. As you collapsed in her arms shaking.

Her eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint as she pulled you up from the desk, her strength evident in the effortless way she handled you. "Ready for another round, baby?" she purred, her voice dripping with seduction.

You nodded eagerly, your heart racing with anticipation. Without hesitation, Lisa guided you to bend over the desk, your hands gripping the edge tightly as you braced yourself for what was to come.

As you presented yourself to her, offering yourself up for her pleasure, Lisa wasted no time in taking control. With a sharp slap to your ass, the sting of her touch sends a jolt of electricity coursing through your body.

"Fuck, Lisa," you gasped, your voice a mixture of pleasure and pain as she positioned herself behind you. Her grip on your hips was firm, almost possessive, as she drove into you with a force that made you scream in pleasure.

Each thrust was a symphony of desire, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room as Lisa claimed you as her own. With each movement, she pushed you closer to the edge of ecstasy, her touch igniting a fire within you that burned hotter with each passing moment. “Lisa! Fuck!��� You screamed out.

"God, you feel so good," Lisa moaned, her voice thick with desire as she pounded into you relentlessly. Her fingers dug into your flesh, leaving marks of possession as she claimed you as her own.

As Lisa thrust into you, the pleasure kept building, pushing you both closer to the edge. Your breaths were ragged and loud, yelps here and there, mixing with the rhythmic sounds of skin smacking together. It was like a symphony of desire filling

As Lisa continued to thrust into you with fervor, her voice husky with desire, she groaned, "God, you're so tight, baby." Her words sent a shiver down your spine, intensifying the pleasure coursing through your body.

Your muscles clenched around her, responding to her every movement as she buried herself deeper inside you. The sensation of being stretched and filled by her only fueled the fire of your desire, pushing you closer to the edge of ecstasy with each passing moment.

Quickening her pace, her thrusts became more urgent as she chased her own release. The sound of her ragged breaths mingled with your own, creating a symphony of passion that filled the room.

Lisa's voice was a husky growl of desire. "Fuck, baby, I'm gonna cum," she groaned, her words filled with primal urgency. "I'm gonna cum in you so hard."

With a cry of ecstasy, you urged her on, your own desire reaching a fever pitch. "Yes! Cum in me," you cried out, your voice echoing in the room.

Feeling your body respond to her touch, Lisa's finger found your clit, rubbing it hard and fast, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you. You squirmed in her arms, unable to contain the overwhelming sensation as she pushed you closer to the edge.

Your body convulsed with the force of your release, waves of pleasure washing over you in a tidal wave of ecstasy. Your pussy gripped her cock so tightly, making it hard for her to thrust.

With a grunt, Lisa pushed herself all the way inside you, going as deep as she could as she reached her peak. With one final thrust, she released herself, filling you completely with her warm thick cum as she came deep inside you.

Calming down, Lisa pulled you into her embrace, both of you sinking into her office chair with her cock still buried deep inside you. "Thank you for coming to take care of me, baby," she whispered, pressing gentle kisses to your shoulder and neck.

Letting out a shuddered breath, you managed to reply, "Of course, my love," as Lisa held you close, offering comfort until you had calmed down. With a tender touch, she helped you clean up, her presence a soothing balm after the storm of passion.

A sudden knock at the office door shattered the tranquility of the moment, and Lisa's assistant's voice trembled as she spoke. "Mrs. Manoban, um, you have a meeting soon."

With a composed nod, Lisa replied, "Alright, Millie, thank you. I'll be out soon." She quickly composed herself, adjusting her appearance before turning to you with a look of adoration.

"I'll see you at home, baby. I love you," Lisa said, pressing a passionate kiss to your lips before reluctantly pulling away and leaving the office.

As you sat there, still feeling the lingering echoes of your lovemaking, you couldn't help but smile at the love and passion you shared with Lisa. Feeling a flush of heat rising to your cheeks, you couldn't help but notice the curious glances from her colleagues as you walked out of Lisa's office. The intensity of your encounter with her still lingered, leaving you feeling both exhilarated and slightly self-conscious under their scrutiny.

But as you caught Lisa's eye, she gave you a playful wink, a silent reassurance that everything was alright. Her confidence and ease put you at ease as well, and you returned her wink with a small smile before continuing on your way back home.

[musamora]

𝖙𝖆𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖆 𝖘𝖎𝖈𝖐 𝖘/𝖔 「𝔣𝔶𝔬𝔡𝔬𝔯 𝔡𝔬𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔢𝔳𝔰𝔨𝔶」 ༉‧₊˚

from anonymous ⇢ "could you write some hc's about fyodor taking care of a sick s/o? love your work btw!"

content. gn!reader. illnesses (implied pneumonia and influenza), hurt/comfort, dizziness, badly translated russian, cute little headcanons. not proofread. 1.8k+ words.

author's note. thank you for the request! i've been in a bit of a writer's funk lately, so hopefully my little ramblings are good ٩(*•͈ ꇴ •͈*)و ̑̑❀

would you like to see more? fill out the taglist or comment under this post.

synopsis. it had been the perfect day for enjoying the sunshine, only for you to succumb to the symptoms of an unknown illness. unluckily for you, fyodor is gone on a mission, so it's time to fend for yourself.

You had been stuck home for weeks, only allowed to leave for groceries and emergencies. Fyodor was away on a dangerous mission inside the city and wanted to ensure that you were safe and sound at home. It was reassuring to receive letters from him since he was close by, but you had started to succumb to cabin fever.

But tomorrow was supposed to be the perfect day.

You took a cursory peek at the weather the night before, pleased to find local climate conditions suitable for finishing your chores while soaking up some sun. It had been either too hot or too rainy for you to leave the house, but tomorrow would provide the prime opportunity to embrace some fresh air.

But it was not meant to be.

"God," you hissed, stretching your disjointed limbs when the sun blinded you as it peeked between the shutters. Weather conditions were perfect, but it seemed your body raised another issue. Your muscles ached with each pop of your joints — strange, but you assumed you had slept wrong. And then your head began to throb. It was small at first but only increased in pressure and annoyance as the day continued. Your throat was the worst of it, an unfluctuating burning sensation aggravating your nerves every time you swallowed.

You originally wrote off these symptoms — the shift of weather probably had a negative effect on your body. It was nothing some good-ol’ fashioned pain medication couldn’t fight off. A minor cold or headache would be manageable as long as you didn’t strain yourself too much, and you refused to dampen such nice weather, so you trekked onward.

The beginning of your day started in the garden, your fingers fast at work toiling with weeds and watering plants. However, the elevated sensation of spasms crawled up the muscles of your arm, making your fingers twitch with every movement. You fussed, massaging your palm with your fingers, and decided that you had enough gardening for the day — there was no way you could continue in this condition. 

So instead, you embraced the brush of air-conditioning against your sweat-slicked skin, sliding the door shut unceremoniously as you trudged your way over to the kitchen counter. A mound of paperwork loomed ahead, awaiting examination and signatures. It seemed like Fyodor reveled in giving you these menial tasks, either to add or to evade your boredom. You shuffled through the top of the stack, carrying a bundle to sit next to the conditioning unit — otherwise, you’d be tempted to stick ice cubes against your skin to relieve the heat-based dizziness that stirred the neurons of your brain.

Tick. Tick.

The clock clicked onward, and you found your hands more cramped and your eyes more and more strained. Even paperwork had become an arduous task, your muscles twinging with pins and needles in the frigid air. So after you signed your name for what seemed like the thousandth time, you placed the pen and papers on the floor and called it a day. You weren’t getting anything else done in this position, and you honestly did not want to be awake for this day any longer.

It seemed to be one of those days, days when the world mocked your misery with its delightful weather, watching in humor as you stumbled over your own feet to crawl away from its intense gaze. You burrowed into the sheets like a rabbit, the cotton comforter cocooning around your body, substituting the presence of your missing lover. The scent of pine permeated from the sheets — you had sprayed the bed each morning with cologne whenever Fyodor was away — as your muscles unwound, eyes fluttering shut as a tiny smile graced your features.

But the nap did not help.

Instead of arising from your bed with a sense of refreshment and relief, the pounding of your skull ran tremors through your body. Your vision had split into blurred shards of light, hands shaking as you guided yourself into the bathroom. You placed a thermometer against your forehead after a quick rummage through your drawers, leaning against the wall as you waited for the beep. Your legs wobbled as you fought back sleep, wincing when the thermometer rang.

102.2°F.

That was pretty damn high.

Body temperature was the most concerning aspect of your condition, and most of your other symptoms would leave if you had taken care of it, so you focused on that first. After waddling into the kitchen, you strained to reach for a cup inside the kitchen cabinet to fill with water. The entire process became more tedious than usual, and the water splashing against your hands only made your fingers cramp. You popped the medication cap open, downing the pills and chugging the water with conviction before slamming the cup onto the counter.

You stumbled your way into the living room., throwing yourself on the couch as your legs gave up underneath you. Your feet toyed with a blanket on the end, flicking it across your body as you struggled to find the proper ratio for the best cooling effect. It became an on-again, off-again struggle before you gave up, groaning into the scratchy decorative pillow under your head.

Each breath was a struggle, the pressure on your chest acting like a lead weight slowly sinking under the water. You braced yourself on your back, feeling the expansion and contraction of your chest with your hands, fearing that if you stopped tracking each breath, you would stop breathing entirely. 

Shit.

The world went hazy, black dots crawling at the edges of your vision.

Creak!

You moaned, clutching onto the pillow as you covered your ears to shield them from the obtrusive sound. The footsteps that began to enter the room paused before someone rushed to your side. That same person seemed to be talking to you — yes, you knew they had to be — a hand guiding you to sit straight and a gentle voice coaxing your eyes open. It was difficult to see who it was, but that velvety Russian accent made it easier.

"F-Fyodor," you mumbled, squinting at him through clouded eyes. He leaned your body against the back of the couch, kissing your forehead to feel for your temperature. His brow furrowed, eyes examining your body as it tremoured with chills. 

If he had known about this, he would’ve returned sooner.

"Я тут, Я тут. Ты не один, любимая . Я тут."

The moment he strides through the doorway and spots your doubled-over body on the couch, he’ll assess the situation and act with precision. He is an intelligent man, which makes his first instinct to address the issues he can and find the fastest way to cool you down. And knowing him, he would be able to identify your specific ailment with around 95% accuracy.

He may not be a medical professional, but he is well-read and has extensive knowledge of human biological makeup and anatomy. He would also have access to your medical records (whether you know it or not) — it makes it easier for him to look after you, but he’ll never tell you that. 

So his first priority is both bringing your temperature down and stabilizing you. He will refresh the sheets inside your bedroom (smirking at the familiar scent of cologne), laying you down with a cool rag on your forehead. Any time you wake up, you are guaranteed to have water situated inches away from your face. Despite your sore throat, he will not allow you to gargle any salt water. He doesn’t want you to get any more dehydrated.

"You need to drink, мышка. You won’t get better if you're dehydrated."

Your entire bedroom will have turned into a cozy den, allowing you to rest without going completely stir-crazy. A heating pad would lie beneath your back, and a humidifier would be adjusted near your face to clear out your lungs — that’s one of the things that worried him the moment he walked through the door. He was concerned you were slowly suffocating, which he knows is one of the worst ways to go.

He would also massage your sore muscles. Enjoy this treatment while it lasts because he wouldn’t normally do this when you were fully cognizant. He is a bit softer to you in this state because it reminds him of the fragility of the human body. He often forgets (more like doesn’t take into consideration) that his own body is weakened due to his anemia, so this is an excellent wake-up call.

You are going to have a rare chance to eat his food! Fyodor is usually too busy to make any meals, so you have the prime opportunity to enjoy some classic Russian dishes — delicious sour rassolnik and hearty solyanka soups, perfect for soothing your throat and filling your stomach.

After all of this, he would force you to take a bath — but at a lukewarm temperature to ensure you wouldn’t worsen your fever. He would want to get rid of any germs as soon as possible, so he’d make sure that every inch of your body is scrubbed down.

And if you aren’t married, he will not get in the tub with you. He is a traditional man (i.e., no sex until after marriage, etc.), and he is already pushing it by helping you bathe in the first place — because as much as this man secretly loves your body, he has to "maintain the sanctity of your relationship." Though the entire experience would make him think twice about waiting to get married.

If you are married, he might get in the tub with you if you insist. He finds that he can’t say no to you as efficiently when you’re in this much pain, and you both enjoy the feeling of being so close to one another. 

He would still sleep in the same bed as you, but he won’t do any sort of cuddling (not that he does it much in the first place). At most, he’ll hold your hand as you fall asleep, letting you know that he’s there. He’d also read to you if you were struggling with sleeping, ensuring that you get a proper night’s rest.

It is rare to see this man taking care of you in a non-discrete way, so revel in it while it lasts. He will maintain a calm composure throughout the duration of your sickness, but he is genuinely worried for your health. He hates seeing you in pain, and he will do anything to ease it.

For the following weeks, he would not allow you to exert yourself until you have fully recovered. If he sees you overworking yourself, you are immediately chastised and sent back to bed.

"Приле́чь, любимая моя. Ты нужда́ешься в о́тдыхе."

He makes sure to set up a system so that he’ll be notified whenever you’re sick, which could be from having a co-worker monitor you (though he doesn’t like the idea of anyone besides himself having eyes on you) or setting up a camera system in your home. He wants to be aware whenever you’re sick so that, at the very least, he can be prepared for when he arrives back home.

"Идти́ спать, мой Дорогая. Я буду здесь, когда ты проснешься."

мышка = mouse я тут, я тут. ты не один, любимая. я тут. = i’m here, i’m here. you’re not alone, my love. i’m here. приле́чь, любимая моя. ты нужда́ешься в о́тдыхе. = lie down, my love. you need rest. идти́ спать, мой дорогая. я буду здесь, когда ты проснешься. = go to bed, my dear. i'll be here when you wake up.

TAGLIST: @imhandicapableofmath @seisitive

© MUSAMORA 2023 — do not repost or modify my works for any reason. do not steal graphics w/o explicit permission. reblogs are appreciated.

[earlgreydream]

mahogany.

| draco x reader | smut |

anon requested. Professor draco ❤️ y/n were in his room just chilling draco reading and y/n getting bored and h-word 🙄 she started to seduce him but he wont give in saying not now blablabla when y/n literally throwing herself to him and he rejects her lol and when y/n touching herself moaning beside him being a brat thats where draco takes control and fucking her like theres no tomorrow

cw: overstim, ‘professor’, masturbation

a/n: I combined these concepts and changed a bit but I hope you love ❤️

“Draco, can’t you take a break? I’ve been waiting all day,” you asked sweetly, wrapping your arms around his neck as you stood behind him.

“I’ve got to grade these papers, darling.” Draco spoke, kissing your hand before his focus drifted back to the papers. Yours had already been graded, a nearly perfect score with only tiny corrections in the margins.

.

You’d been secretly dating your potions professor for almost a year. Draco Lucius Malfoy was the youngest, hottest, and smartest professor at Hogwarts, and you’d become instantly enamored with him. All the girls whispered about the young slytherin prince who had returned to teach the class he excelled at.

Your love was scandalous and fiery, and full of love and adoration. Draco was a bit older, and the role of a caring dominant suited him well, guiding you and teaching you. You adored him, and wanted to do everything to make him happy. Typically, you were a well behaved girlfriend, but today he wasn’t so lucky.

You were needy, horny, and you desperately wanted to be fucked. Draco had been overly busy with grading exams and papers, leaving you with less attention.

.

You sat on his desk beside where he worked, absentmindedly undoing the buttons on your uniform top. Draco ignored you, his eyes trailing along lines of script about potion ingredients. His glasses rested delicately on the bridge of his slender nose, the sleeves of his sweater pushed up to his elbows as the room warmed.

You reached out and dragged your fingers through his silky white hair, freeing it from the messy bun it had been tied back in.

“Not now, I’ve got to grade,” Draco hummed, squeezing your thigh.

You tossed your shirt on the floor, knowing once he was giving you any ounce of attention, you’d get scolded for. When he didn’t look up, you dropped your bra with it, desperate to get his attention.

“Professor Malfoy?” You whined, gently grasping his jaw and tilting his head up to look at you.

Draco immediately dropped his pen, utterly astounded by the sight of you. You were perched on the desk, wearing just your short little uniform skirt that had ridden up around your waist, and thigh high socks. Your tits were out, on full display for him. Your distraction was working, but your bratty attitude compelled him to deny you a bit longer.

“I just want you to touch me, please,” your sweet voice was lilted with need, and Draco shifted in his chair as his trousers grew tight.

“I know you do, pretty girl, but I’m not finished working.”

“But Professor Malfoy, m’not wearing any panties,” you said softly, flipping up your skirt and showing him your bare skin that was glistening with desire.

He stared at you for a moment, letting his eyes travel along your body and land on your puffy little pussy, that was throbbing from how badly you wanted him. He glanced back up at your eyes before turning back to the papers, wishing more than ever he didn’t have to work.

You were horrified that Draco left you untouched, picking his pen back up and resuming his work. He had to bite back the smirk, amused by your annoyed gasp.

You gave up on him then, deciding to take care of yourself. You stayed beside him, parting your legs and leaving your skirt flipped up. You set one socked foot on his thigh for leverage and slowly started to dip your fingers into your folds. Your touch moved delicately over your skin, drawing tight circles on your clit until you were dripping onto Draco’s desk.

Soft whines were strained in your throat, and Draco swallowed his own moan. He forced himself not to watch you, but the sound of your fingers gliding in and out of your pussy tore all of his attention from his work.

A smirk tugged at your lips as you watched him drop his pen and slide the stack of papers into a drawer, clearing his desktop.

You breathed a sigh of relief when he tugged his sweater off. Your own fingers didn’t come close to reaching the tender places that his could, and you were desperate for him.

Draco sat back in his chair, palming himself through tight black boxers as he watched you finger yourself, your thighs jolting when you brushed your spongey walls.

“Draco, please help me,” you begged, sliding your fingers out when he stared at you.

“I will be glad to help you after you make yourself come.”

“No, I want you.”

“Don’t be bad now, darling. Let me watch you play with that pretty little pussy.”

Draco feigned a sympathetic smile at your whimpers, pulling your legs open farther to inspect your movements. You felt surveyed, like Draco was inspecting your performance.

You pouted at Draco, and he tiled his head to the side. You tried reaching for his hand, and he pushed his chair back a bit more. He was amused by your needy drama, but he was nearing to the end of his patience.

“If you don’t make yourself come in the next five minutes, you don’t get to come at all for the next week, darling.”

You flashed a hurt look, but his gaze was stern, eyes dark with lust. When you hesitated to move, Draco glanced down at his watch, silently daring you to test him.

Your fingers moved down to your clit, trying to get off for your boyfriend. You tensed as the pressure built, and you fell back on your elbows. Draco watched your tits bounce as you drew ragged breaths in your chest, overwhelmed from the pleasure reverberating through you.

“That’s my girl,” Draco praised you, moving in and lightly kissing your swollen clit. You jumped at the contact, startled by the stimulation.

“Darling, you’ve made such a mess on my desk,” he scolded with a smile, watching you pull your bottom lip between your teeth.

He gently pushed you to lay back against the wooden desktop, hard and cold under your mostly nude body. You grinned as he undressed, parting your legs and putting your feet on the desk.

Draco dragged your hips to the edge, immediately pushing into your slick pussy. Your overstimulated cry encouraged Draco, who held your hips down as he railed you.

Draco went as rough and fast as he could, fucking you into delirious ecstasy. Your professor satiated your every desire, fucking you braindead on his desk.

“Going to let me come inside this tight little cunt, darling?” Draco asked, his hand pinning your wrists above your head.

“Yes, professor,” you murmured, playing into the taboo of your relationship.

Your walls fluttered around Draco, closing down on him tightly as he forced you to orgasm for the second time, his touch pure electricity on your clit.

He mouthed wet kisses along your breasts, feeling your breath shudder and your back arch off of the mahogany.

“Fuck, pretty girl,” Draco hissed into your soft skin, throbbing inside of you.

Draco’s loud moan echoed in your ears and the sharpness of his teeth against your skin made you shudder. Hot white ribbons were painting your walls, thick and warm. He pulled you up against his chest, holding you close as he filled you with his spend.

“Draco, oh my god,” you gasped, dragging your fingers through his fine hair.

“I want you to feel me dripping out of you for hours,” he growled into your shoulder, leaving another mark on the skin there.

You were feeble in his arms, overstimulated and worn out. His lips pressed kisses to your face, and he got the two of you into a generous hot bath.

Loving hands washed the day from your body, attentive to everywhere you were sensitive. Draco whispered to you and kissed your lips, being extra gentle.

“I won’t be so busy this weekend. We can have a night in, no papers to grade, all my attention on you,” Draco suggested.

“Yes please.”

“Maybe I can make you work for an A then,” he teased, brushing his nose against yours and making you giggle.

[infinitebuckys]

Release - Loki x reader

loki x female reader

you and loki just have a stress release moment in the TVA.

warnings: smut, fingering, unprotected sex, slight degradation.

You let out a soft moan when his fingers brushed on your panties, his lips leaving kisses and marks on your neck. Loki had you on your desk, with your legs wide open, barely touching you with his long, slim fingers.

He pushed the fabric to the side, humming against your skin when he felt the wetness on your heat. Loki slided a finger on you easily.

“You’re so wet,” he hissed against your ear, making you whimper again. “Your office seems truly boring,” he said, inserting a second finger.

“Oh- imagine how’s paperwork,” you bit back another moan as he pumped his fingers on you.

It was late and no one else but you and Loki were in the place. Since you were busy trying to catch the new variant, you kinda got close to him. You found him very attractive, but never dared to make a move first, you thought he didn't wanted you like you wanted him. Oh, how wrong you were.

Now he had you pinned against the cold desk, your papers and pens on the ground while you just waited for him to fuck you on the surface. That was all you could think of when the pace of his fingers increased, you whimpered loudly.

“Please, Loki,” you begged with a soft voice, feeling your walls clenching around his fingers and how your orgasm built on your belly.

“I love how you say my name,” he grunted, bitting your earlobe.

You came with a loud cry, feeling his thumb rubbing and putting some pressure on your clit. Loki pulled his fingers out to later lick the wetness on them.

A small moan left your lips, taking a glance on the dark-haired god standing between your legs, your hips bucking themselves to get some friction or his touch back on your skin.

“You seem so eager,” Loki teased.

“When you’re just a boring secretary, good sex is not something on your schedule, at least not here.”

“Let's get to action then, shall we?”

He flipped you around, so now your stomach was pressed against the desk, your breasts out of the half buttoned blouse against the cool surface. You felt his hands lifting up your skirt again, pulling your panties to the side to get a view of your wet pussy.

You heard his belt and the zipper of his pants, your hips aligned with his, pressing your ass cheeks against him. His hard dick entered slowly, making you cry softly on the cold metal surface.

Definitely it was a long time for you. Loki groaned, grabbing your hips with his hands and after you got comfortable for some time, he began to thrust his hips, making a filthy sound with your skin smashing against his.

You held back a loud moan, gasping to try and not to cry out loud.

“Such a precious little cunt,” Loki hissed, with a hand around your neck.

“Fuck!” you moaned feeling him hitting your sweet spot over and over. “Oh god- ah!” his hand spanked your ass again, leaving for sure a mark on your skin.

“Tell me how well I fuck you,” he ordered.

“You fuck me so well, please,” you begged between your breath.

Your second orgasm was building up on your belly and hit you fast, like a lightning running all over your body. Loki’s grunts and low moans echoed in the office, until he released inside you, your orgasm bringing his own.

He stayed still for a few moments, before pulling out and helping you to sit down on the desk carefully. Both of you catching your breath.

“You know, this kind of work is so stressful,” you said. “Can we do it again?”

“I don't think you need to ask.”

[winterscaptain]

the pleasures of the elder.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader

a/n: the people have spoken, and they all love sean hotchner. this fits after mean it in the joyful future universe, but no context is actually required to enjoy a little bit of sibling rivalry. title comes from jane austen’s quote: “the younger brother must help to pay for the pleasures of the elder.” 

words: 3k warnings: language, alcohol use, sex mention, jealous!aaron, perceptive!sean

summary: when he arrives for an impromptu visit, sean knows his brother too well to give him any moment’s peace - especially when it comes to you. 

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | requests closed

A man, both very handsome and vaguely familiar, pushes through the glass doors and walks across the bullpen - a visitor's badge pinned proudly to his leather jacket. You try to place him, but come up short. 

You’re alone, for the time being. Almost everyone is off running some kind of last-minute errand around the federal building - making copies, finishing paperwork, or in a meeting (in Hotch’s case). It’s the last dregs of the day, the sun setting over the river. 

The man stops in front of your desk. “Hi. Are you part of the BAU, or am in the wrong place?” His eyes are bright, roaming over your face with a kind of curious, warm, knowing air. 

You smile at him, and before you can answer -

“Sean!” JJ’s fond tone carries across the bullpen, and she arrives with an armful of cases. 

Sean? 

Oh my god. 

Sean Hotchner. 

“Hey, JJ, right?”

She laughs, sounding a little younger than she is. You can’t blame her. Sean is exceedingly handsome in an entirely different direction than his older brother. And if your memory serves correctly, just a year older than you. “Yeah, that’s right. Good to see you.” He offers her a hand, and she shifts her files to take it. His handshake is firm, and lasts just a moment too long. 

You kick back in your chair, almost inviting him to lean against your desk. “Hotch is in a meeting, if you’re looking for him. He should be out in,” you check your watch, “about five minutes.”

Sean turns back to you, his shockingly blue eyes meeting yours. “Thanks.” He smiles at you again, and you’d be lying if you said your heart was doing normal things in your chest. “Sean Hotchner. I’m Aaron’s - sorry, Hotch’s - little brother.”

Those eyes are dangerous. 

Oh, poor Aaron. 

You shake his hand and introduce yourself. “Pleasure’s all mine, I’m sure.” 

Just as you suspected moments ago, he takes the initiative and leans against your desk. JJ hovers nearby, a little smile on her face. You watch as she sends a quick text, and puts her phone back on her belt. 

Gotta tell the girls...

“So,” he starts, brisk and businesslike, “you definitely weren’t here during my last visit. What’s your story?”

“Well, if you must know -“

“I must.” He flashes you another smile, and you can only imagine all the trouble he caused growing up. Or, rather, you can imagine all the trouble he would have caused if his brother wasn’t around to bail him out. Five years ago, you would have been drawn into his pretty eyes and wide smile. Now, you can only see a boyish, overt, almost-inelegant version of the understated warmth you love in Aaron. 

You give him a quick rundown of your history: hometown, alma mater, etc. “- I was an academy grad in 2007, and I’ve been here ever since.”

“Ah, so not a newbie anymore. And you’ve worked with my brother the whole time?” He almost looks impressed. His glance down to your ringless left hand doesn’t escape your notice.

Oh Sean, if only you knew. 

You nod. “Yeah, I’ve worked under Hotch for five years now.” 

And I’ve worked over him for about three months. Also under him, around him, on the couch, in the kitchen, etc.

Shut up. 

C’mon. It’s funny.

A low whistle leaves him as you bite back a smile. “Damn. I’m so sorry. He’s a real hardass.”

You lean in conspiratorially, and you’re almost cheek-to-cheek as he leans down to listen. “You know, that’s what I hear, but -” 

Penelope bursts through the doors and calls your name, carrying an armful of papers that have absolutely nothing to do with the work going on upstairs. Emily is close behind her, an amused grin on her face. 

Sean leans back so you can finally see her. “Yeah?”

“I have these for - Oh, hi Sean!” She says it like she hasn’t already decided her primary objective is to get his attention. 

“Hey!” He looks over at her, one finger up to stop her in her tracks. “Wait, don’t tell me. Garcia, right?”

“Penelope,” JJ supplies helpfully. 

“That’s right. It’s good to see you again.” He offers her his hand, and she takes it. You’re almost certain he winks at her, and she smiles through the blush rising on her cheeks. 

He really is a heartbreaker, huh?

Aaron must have had his work cut out for him.

Derek rounds the corner and immediately rolls his eyes at the scene before him. Sean has his body angled toward you (in your chair, completely open, with your chin in your hand) while he shakes Penelope’s hand. JJ pretends to do work off at her desk behind yours, but she’s completely tuned into the conversation. Emily’s sitting on her own desk off to the side, watching the whole thing with a certain degree of good humor. 

“Sean, good to see you, man.” Derek walks over and takes Penelope under his arm. It’s almost possessive, and you almost laugh. 

Sean releases Penelope’s hand and takes Derek’s. “Hey, Morgan. How’ve you been?”

Their bro-to-bro catch-up fades into the background as you see Hotch appear on the breezeway by his office. You look up at him before pointedly glancing at Sean beside you. He sighs, then calls, “Sean.”

The man in question turns, and a smile breaks out over his face when he sees his brother. There’s something cocky about it, and you don’t miss the way his body language remains keyed into you as he speaks. “That’s my name, don’t wear it out.”

Aaron takes another deep breath and walks down the stairs. “What are you doing here?”

“Can’t I just come see my big brother at work?”

Aaron’s eyebrow is dubious at best. “What do you need?”

Sean laughs, and it reminds you enough of Aaron’s that it draws a wide smile from you. You find yourself looking fondly up at Sean, seeing more of the resemblance now that they’re beside each other. Aaron’s jaw flexes. You notice. 

Oh, see, now this is fun. 

“I was just in town and figured I’d stop by to see if you were here or out on a case.” Sean glances down at you with another charming smile before looking back at his brother. “I guess I got lucky.” 

He’s just full of those smiles, isn’t he?

JJ jumps in. “We’re actually planning on going out to drinks once we wrap up in a couple of minutes. You’re more than welcome to come.”

While JJ pulls attention elsewhere, you glance up at Hotch and throw him a wink. Hey. Relax. 

His jaw relaxes just a touch, and his lips twitch. As usual, he covers it by crossing his arms over his chest. Don’t be a shit. 

You wet your lips and purse them a little. Nice try. 

He shifts, just a little, raising an eyebrow. You’re really gonna go there?”

Watch this. You toss him a quick smile. “That would be great!” You brush Sean’s sleeve as you unnecessarily reach over him for Penelope. “What do you think, Pen?”

“Oh, we’d love that!” Penelope takes your hand, squeezes it, and looks up at Derek. “Wouldn’t we?”

Derek nods. “We’d love to have you, man. It’ll be good to hear what you’ve been up to in New York.” 

Aaron does his best to suppress his eye roll. You’re lucky he loves you, childish antics and all. 

+++

When you split up into your respective cars, Sean elects to ride with you over his brother. You and Hotch play the role of designated drivers. You’ve fallen into the routine, finding it's much easier to sneak around your coworkers as they get more and more inebriated through the evening. 

Aaron doesn’t look too happy with the ride arrangements, but he lets it slide. Dave and Emily ride with him, while you have Derek, Penelope, and JJ in the car with you and Sean. 

It’s not that he doesn’t trust you. He doesn’t trust Sean. 

Logically, he doesn’t have anything to worry about. He woke up this morning to your patient, adoring eyes and your hands playing with his hair. You ate breakfast together (read: sat in his lap with a bowl of cereal while he read his emails), were (almost) late due to your showering arrangement, and only parted after a (very) good kiss in the driveway. 

Still though, he can’t quite shake the insecurities he always felt with his brother. Thirteen years his junior, Sean always seemed to excel in every social pursuit. Music, girls, friends - he was able to settle into things Aaron always struggled with. It was stupid. Aaron was well into his thirties when Sean was in undergrad, but that prickle of envy never seemed to fade. 

Their mother never put the pressure on Sean the way she did on Aaron, and in some ways it made sense. He was a teenager when their father passed, and Sean was hardly a child. More responsibility, more weight, less credit. 

Aaron might be his mom’s pride and joy, even to this day, but Sean will always be her baby. 

Thus, watching Sean easily weasel his way into one of your smiles wore on almost thirty years of tension. 

“Hey, what’s going on with you?” Emily asks, tapping Hotch’s shoulder with gentle fingers. Upon making contact, she snorts. “Wow, you’re really tense.” 

Hotch shakes his head and shrugs her off. “I’m alright.” 

It’s Dave’s turn to snort. “No you’re not. You’ve been scowling since Sean showed up.”

“He just has that effect on me. Always has.” 

“C’mon, Aaron.” Dave says. Aaron’s grip on the wheel tightens, but he doesn’t say anything. “He’s just a kid.” 

With a flat deadpan, Aaron replies, “He’s thirty.” 

Emily leans forward on the center console, inserting herself into the conversation. “Hotch, you don’t have anything to worry about. Sean doesn’t have anything on you.” She bumps his shoulder with hers. 

He sighs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Emily and Dave share a look and a little smile. 

+++

You hop out of the car, swinging your keys in your hand. Hotch is a couple of spots down from you in the parking lot, and your little groups meet up somewhere in the middle. Falling back, you let Derek and Emily lead the way. When they’re all in front of you, Sean included, you press your shoulder to Aaron’s for just a moment. 

“Are you going to be childish?” he says, quietly. 

You suppress a smile. “You’re fun when you’re jealous.” 

“I’m not jealous.” 

“Alright.” Your hand snags his for just a moment, before you jog forward to catch up to the rest of the group. 

“There you are!” Sean’s voice rings out, and you let him tuck you under his arm. You wrap an arm around Sean’s waist and chance a look back to grin at Aaron. 

Gotcha, babe. 

Aaron rolls his eyes so loudly you can see it from twenty feet away. Ridiculous. 

I love you. 

I know. 

+++

You’ve all managed to secure a table. While not incredibly crowded, there are plenty of people around. You planted yourself next to Aaron, and Sean planted himself next to you. The music is just loud enough to encourage dancing without requiring a shout to communicate. 

Derek downed his first drink and led Penelope on the floor within ten minutes of your arrival. 

The round table is crowded, and your pinkie locked in Aaron’s belt loop goes unnoticed. He stretches his arm out behind you to clap Sean’s shoulder, and his fingers quickly trace across your shoulders as he pulls it back. 

“So what have you been up to, Sean?”

“Oh, you know. This and that.” He pulls from the drink in front of him and you’re almost certain it’s just a Coke. 

Sober? Getting there? 

Remind me to get the skinny on that later. 

10-4.

Aaron chuckles darkly. “You’re gonna have to do better than that.” 

Sean shrugs, and leans back, checking out the dance floor. You pull your pinkie from Aaron and put both of your hands on the table. Emily’s looking a little too watchful tonight, and you’d hate to lose your bet. 

Your money is on making it more than six months without alerting the team you’ve been sleeping together. Aaron, always of little faith, took the alternative. 

“Dance with me?” Sean offers you a hand, and you take it. Before you get too far, you lean across Aaron to take another sip of your drink. When you lose your balance (on purpose), Aaron steadies you with a hand around your waist, making sure you’re settled on your feet before you jet off with Sean. 

“Thanks, Hotch!”

He takes a long pull from his beer - his only drink for the evening. Hotch. Gimme a break. 

“Looks like they’re hitting it off great,” JJ says with a laugh. “That works out. I mean, Sean’s about our age, right?”

Don’t remind me. 

“Yep. Turned thirty last month.” Aaron does his best to not sound too bitter. 

JJ smirks at Emily, who turns to smirk at Dave. They don’t know what they don’t know, but they certainly know enough to keep an eye on Aaron for the rest of the evening. 

“That’s in-flight entertainment, baby.” Emily whispers to JJ. “I can’t wait to tell Will. He’s going to die laughing.” 

JJ lets out a peal of laughter. “Absolutely.”

Out on the floor, you’re having way too much fun, sandwiched between Derek and Sean. You pull Penelope between you and Derek, and loop an arm over Sean’s shoulders. 

“So,” he says, his lips close to your ear and his voice barely audible over the music, “how long have you been sleeping with my brother?”

You freeze for just a moment, but it’s a moment too long to recover. “What?”

“Oh, come on. Question in response to a question? That’s like profiling 101.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sean rolls his eyes. “He’s halfway in love with you, if not completely fucked, in case he’s failed to tell you.” He spins you out, and back in so your back is against his chest. 

“We’ve got that covered, yeah.” You twist in his arms. “You gonna do anything about it?”

He shrugs. “I dunno. I think it’s pretty funny to get him all worked up, though, don’t you think?” Another bright smile crosses his face and his blue eyes seem to glow in the dim light. 

“Oh, Sean. I think we’re going to get along just fine.” You laugh and reach for him again, but a finger appears in your belt loop. Derek pulls you back toward him by the hip. He’s stupid strong, and you can only tumble back into him with another laugh. 

You’re sweaty, sober, and having way too much fun.  

“Careful, kid. I think Hotchner has a crush.” Derek’s playful jab is warm against your ear as you fall in with him, cheek-to-cheek. 

“What can I say?” You ask. “I’m irresistible.” 

Derek throws you under his arm in a spin and you land back at his chest with the wind knocked out of you. “He’s gotta get in line though.”

“Oh?”

“I think his big brother’s gonna give him a run for his money?” 

That’s enough for you. “Gimme a break, Morgan.” With a laugh, you shove at Derek’s chest and leave the floor. Returning to the table, you sidle up to Aaron again. “Hey, Hotch. Having fun?”

He gives you a weak glare out of the corner of his eye and takes a sip of his beer. “A blast.” 

“Couple more hours, if that, then we’ll be home.” You drop your voice, almost whispering into your glass as you take another sip.

Aaron nods. “Can’t come soon enough.” 

The rest of the team gets more and more sloshed as the evening progresses, and you can get away with a lot more. That said, Sean’s eyes are playful, sober, and more than a little amused. 

“What did my brother say to you?” Hotch murmurs, under his breath. The girls went to the bathroom (and to call Spencer a cab home) while Derek and Sean posted up at the bar, itching for an excuse to give some asshole the what-for. 

You bump his shoulder. “Just that you’re half in love with me, if not already completely fucked.” 

He heaves a sigh. “Can’t catch a break.” You link your pinkie through his belt loop again. “He’s right, though.” 

“How’s that?” You look up at him and you know he can see how much you love him. 

“I’m completely fucked.” 

If any of your team members wonder what’s so fucking funny, they don’t ask. It’s just good to see Hotch smiling again. 

+++

At the end of the night, you drop Sean back off at the hotel on your way home. He’s the last in your car, so he can speak his mind with a certain degree of freedom. You idle in front of the building for a moment, just enjoying the silence.

“Hey.” 

You look over at him. “Yeah?”

“You’d make a great in-law. Just wanted you to know that I’m here for it.” He offers you a hand. You shake it and it almost feels like you’re making some kind of gentleman’s agreement. “Take care of him. He needs it.” 

“Oh, don't worry. I know.”

The smile you share is that of a pair of co-conspirators, of siblings, of friends. 

We’ll do just fine, you and I. 

tagging: @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @agenthotchner @wandaswitxh @hurricanejjareau @fics-ilike @ange-must-die @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts  @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal @shrimpyblog @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @good-heavens-chris-evans @davidrossi-ismydad @angelsbabey @gublergirls @writefasttalkevenfaster @venusbarnes @hotchsflower @micaiahmoonheart @ogmilkis @thatreallyis-americas-ass @marvels-agents100 @newtslatte @risenfox @mrs-dr-reid @captain-christopher-pike @joemazzello-imagines @pinkdiamond1016 @sebbybaby0 @lilsiswinchester @pan-pride-12 @hotchlinebling @lee-rin-ah @sunshine-em @word-scribbless @jdougl-love @sageellsworth05 @emmice9 @nohalohoseok @giveusbackourbucky @writerxinthedark @mrshotchnerrossimulder21 @bauslut @yourlovelynewsbian @sparklingkeylimepie @aili28 @kingandrear @reader4027 @spnobsessedmemes @rogers-mouth @dreila03 @forgottenword @aaronhotchnerr @ssa-morgan @hotchnersgoddess @buckybau @phoenixfyre374 @sana-li @tegggeeee @abschaffer2 @ssacandi-ass-prentiss @songbird400 @dontkissthewriter @ellyhotchner @a-dorky-book-keeper @lotties-journey-abroad @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 @laneygthememequeen @ahopelessromantic @violentvulgarvolatile @andreasworlsboring101 @mooneylupinblack @ssareidbby @violet-amxthyst @bwbatta @roses-and-grasses @lcvischmitt @capricorngf @missdowntonabbey @averyhotchner @mandylove1000 @garcia-reid-lovechild  @cevanswhre @colbyskoalas  @qvid-pro-qvo @joanofarkansass @jeor @spencers-hoodrat 

[heavenunderthemoon]

Dollface

Summary: After the death of her two brother, reader feels as though she must become the perfect child. She reaches her breaking point at a night at Rossi’s. 

Warnings: mentions of suicide, depression, angst Your fingers grabbed at another stray hair, a desperate attempt to make an escape as you smoothed the rest into a nice, sleek ponytail. Grabbing it, you tucked it under the hair tie, breathing deeply through your nose as you stared back at the reflection.

You didn't like staring into the mirror. Staring into the mirror meant seeing your eyes, a rather odd statement when you really thought about it, but the reason you hated it all the same. You had to stare into those brown orbs, brown orbs you had inherited from your mother, and ones she had passed down not only to you, but to Ethan as well.

Ethan.

The name sent a shiver through your body.

He had passed just when you both had turned nine. He had been struggling for a while, ever since you could remember actually. For years, you had accompanied him on doctor appointments, consults after consults. Alex Blake was no quitter, and she had fought tooth and nail to find someone- anyone- to save her boy. In the end she hadn't succeeded. He had passed in his bed, only a couple feet away from you. Sometimes you could still hear her sobs, her wails of agony after she had found him, a mother losing her son, her baby. Sometimes it felt as though you had lost her that day too.

You forced the tips of your mouth to lean upward, the motion looking so foreign on your face that you couldn't help but stare. A smile. A true smile. When was the last time you had one of those? You recalled the time before Ethan started presenting symptoms, a time before his illness, before the unrelenting sadness that ran rampant throughout your house. Before your mother was driven insane, a linguist unable to name the one thing she hated so much, the one thing that took away one of her children. Before your father ran off, escaping to different countries under the guise of Doctors Without Borders. You knew why he really took that position, that he was so driven by his grief of losing Ethan that he ran off to find children he actually could save. And your mother? She didn't get much better. When she had lost Ethan she had lost a part of herself you weren't quite sure she would ever get back. A carefree, laid-back part of her, one that wouldn't run to the emergency room every time you had a cough. One that wouldn't demand an MRI every time you needed a physical checkup. One that didn't watch you so closely, close enough that you could feel her stare on you, whenever you played on the playground with the other children. Before the stares were less loving, more analytical, and every goodbye felt like your last.

Your lips dropped down, eyes remaining on yourself.

Nothing was wrong with you of course, but your mother could never be sure. Losing one child was enough, the fear of losing her second drove her over the edge.

And so, you played along.

You pretended you didn't want to play baseball with the kids in the neighborhood, taking a liking to books instead. You pretended you didn't want to go out, or play in the rain, or step in puddles, or touch frogs. Childhood was non-existent, and for you, that was just how it had to be, because you didn't want to drive her mother any madder than she already was.

Your hands dropped to your sides, smoothing the sides of your pants with your hands, a nervous tick, but comforting nonetheless.

An evening at Rossi's. The invitation alone was enough to make you want to scream.

As awful as it sounded, you hated when your mother was home. Since you had turned seventeen, you were trusted enough to stay home alone when your mother was out on cases, so long as you FaceTimed every night and the neighbors could check on you in the morning. And, with your father away you were left to your own devices. You relished in the feeling of being alone. You liked being able to emerge from your room without that heaviness dragging you down, the weight of your mother's morbid stare, the one that made you think that perhaps you were dying and you just didn't know it, enough to make you feel an onslaught of loneliness. When your mother was gone, you were able to watch tv with the volume all the way up, or order pizzas with extra cheese. You could let the dishes pile up and leave the laundry to fester.

And then when your mother came home it felt like everything in the air was sucked up all over again. Like all the walls were caving in, the world was ending, and once more you were dying.

"Y/N! Time to go!"

You glanced at yourself one more time. Clothes ironed perfectly, a crisp button down tucked into a pleated skirt, hair pinned and proper. A doll. A perfect little doll ready to be played with.

You turned off the bathroom light, grabbing your purse.

"Coming, Mother."

-

"My mom speaks very highly of you all, it's nice to finally meet you." You spoke with a sense of tranquility that the team wasn't quite expecting. Though, to be honest, they weren't precisely sure what to expect when they had caught wind that Alex was finally bringing her daughter to an event. Typically, you were too busy.

Studying for school, babysitting for children around the neighborhood, getting ahead in your classes, attending chess club, book club, anything and everything that had made their lips part, eyebrows furrowing because you were just a child but the way she spoke about you made you seem so...refined. Independent. Not a child.

Your peers had said the same things- behind your back, of course. You didn't have many friends. Being the perfect child didn't give you much time to make those, and you weren't good at it anyways. The teachers had always praised you, admiring you for your perfectionism. Your straight A's, good temperament, and ability to surpass the school's curriculum had you earning your teachers' result rather quickly but it had soon turned to sympathy. They had begun to notice how your posture was always straight, how your pens were always in alignment, how you never spoke unless answering an academic question.

Sometimes, they would watch you, just to see if you would suddenly sneeze and ruin that perfect mirage that you displayed to the world. But you never did, not really. You were a doll. You were picture perfect and they had previously found that quality a little endearing but now they just felt pity, because how many times had that doll felt like she wasn't enough in order to make it appear as so?

Met with enthusiasm, you smiled along as the night progressed, making light conversation with your mother's team. They were nice enough, and you tried not to let along how painful your smiles began to be. It wasn't long before you had excused yourself to a smaller room, bringing out the school work you had brought along to get out of the way.

it was an art project, your least favorite subject. Art, your teacher had stated, is an expression of emotion. There were no rules, no tips, no studying to help you along. Either you had it, or you didn't. You definitely did not.

The noise of the party chattered against your brain as your teeth began their assault against your lip, biting down hard as your eraser grated against the paper once more. With a frustrated grunt, you tried again, the circle coming out just as uneven as the last time.

Spencer must've noticed you out on the patio by yourself. He excused himself from the party, approaching you slowly.

"Hey."

You knew he was being nice. He was mingling and from what you mother had told you about him he didn't do it often so you were trying your very best to not snap at him, your agitation at an all time high due to the failure of your art project.

"Hello."

Your eyes were still on your paper, trying to salvage something- anything- from this artwork but it was futile. Every time you added something it made it worse and every time you removed something it looked empty and you were beginning to get frustrated. You hated art, you wanted to drop it, but it was a requirement. A stupid, useless class, in your opinion (though maybe it was biased due to your inability to do it). Your heart rate quickened at the thought of getting anything lower than an A on this piece. Your grade was already at a 92, that in itself was enough to make your head spin but what if you got a B on this work and it brought your overall grade down? What if you received your first ever B? What would your mother say then?

Spencer was watching you with curious eyes. He saw a bit of himself in you ever since you had arrived, though that isn't all a good thing. He saw an intelligent, capable girl who put far too much pressure on himself. A girl who carried the weight of the world on her shoulders. A girl who refused to ask for help.

And now, your breaths becoming ragged and eyes unfocused, he saw you, really saw you. Your eraser was grinding against there paper and in your anger it ripped it, your lips parting at the action. As bad as it had been this was even worse because now you sound have to start over.

Starting over meant setting you back at least three days in work and you were supposed to have this assignment done by tonight to get ahead for other classes tomorrow.

"Y/N? Y/N you need to breathe, take a break from you're homework, it's okay-"

You had forgotten that Spencer was there in all honesty, but now that he was speaking you whipped toward him.

The words seemed to cut through you like a knife and you shot an incredulous look at the man. "Okay? It's not okay! I can't take a break because I needed to get it done by tonight! I need to write a paper and get ahead in physics so that I can make time for babysitting, and attend lectures, and sit in on mom's classes and-"

Your hands were balled now, clenching into fists and Spencer was reaching for them.

"Look at me, take a breath-"

"This stupid art project, it didn't look good-"

"It looked fine-" Spencer tried, and he could tell that the two of you were attracting attention now because he could feel eyes flitting to the back door windows and he knew for certain that Alex would be here soon but none of it seemed to register for you because your eyes were far too panicked and cheeks too flushed.

"It can't be just fine, it needs to be perfect!" You broke. Your voice was louder than you had ever used with an adult and if you weren't  so far gone in your breakdown you surely would've apologized. The eraser in your hand dropped, fists unclenching to cover your ears because your thoughts were too loud. They were always too loud. Constant planning, scheduling ahead. Worries about your parents, your reputation, your next step. It came crashing over you.

Later, you would realize you were sobbing but for now, you were left to wonder why your throat was so sore.

"Y/N, you need to breathe, okay? Breathe. It doesn't need to be perfect, you're okay-"

Alex was relieving Spencer, and he retreated back into the house with a reassuring nod from Alex. The team sent worried looks, but looked away to give the two of you privacy. You hardly even noticed the change.

"Hey." Alex was taking your hands from your ears, eyes wide. She had never seen you like this, never seen you so distraught and it scared her. It terrified her to see you in such a state because, clearly, you weren't okay and you hadn't been for a while and how did she miss this? It scared her because ever since she could remember you had been such an easy child. A child who didn't ask for help, a child who didn't cry, who didn’t yell, who didn't ask for things. And was that a result of her?

"Hey, look at me. Look at me." Her finger was going under your chin, forcing it upward, forcing your eyes on hers and she was accentuating her breaths, making you take them with her. "What's going on, hm? Whats' going on, talk to me."

Maybe it was the softness in her tone, or the woe in your eyes, or maybe it was just exhaustion from constantly trying to be...everything and anything your mother could ask for, but you chose to tell the truth.

"I have to be perfect." And it was quiet. You could hear the water fountain somewhere far to your left, something Rossi apparently had put in two years ago, but you couldn't see it over the hedges. Alex rose a brow, not understanding and so you continued.  "I have to be perfect...for you."

And the Blake woman was gasping because how could her daughter even think that? How could she not see that her daughter was thinking that? "Honey, no-"

But you weren't letting her finish. "Yes, I do. I have to be the perfect child because you lost the other one. And I," You swallowed, sighing softly. "I can't be him for you."

"W-what?"

"Ever since he died I- he-...you were different. You and Dad both were, and I just wanted to make you happy so I tried to be good, I tried to be the best kid so that you wouldn't feel any sadder than you did."

"Oh, baby, you didn't have to do that-"

"Yes I did. When he died it was like every time you looked at me I was already dead I just didn't know it.  I've been dead for years. I think I might've died with him."

And you were breathing steadily now. You chest wasn't as tight, your mind wasn't as foggy but now your eyes were filled with tears. You cried because you had wanted to say these words for so long, you had wanted your mother back for an eternity snd now she was listening, now you were going to surrender yourself to imperfection.

"I never meant to make you feel like that, please-"

The tears fell across your cheeks, splayed out like a beautiful painting, a masterpiece created by you, a girl who thought that she was a horrible artist. Perhaps you weren't as horrible as you thought.

"I wish it was me instead of him. Because I can't take it. I can't keep doing this-"

Alex was shaking her head, gripping your cheeks in her hands now, because the words you were saying made it sound like she might lose you, made it sound like you might just dissolve under her touch. And all she felt right now was dread. "Don't say that."

"The classes, the perfectionism, I'm...I'm just so tired."

"Baby, please. I'm, I'm so sorry." And that thought entered your mind once more, that perhaps you were a wonderful little artists because kneeling before you now was a tragically beautiful piece of art. A grieving mother, wet cheeks piling up by the minute, eyes filled with some kind of morose morbidity and that was something you had created.

"I'm a perfect little girl in a perfect little house. We all play pretend that Ethan didn't exist-"

"Y/N Y/M/N." Alex was trying, begging you to stop because it hurt. It pained her because Ethan died of something no one knew about but you? You were dying because of her.

"It's alright. I'm just so tired of all the pretending. I wish Ethan and I could swap places, because then he could be playing pretend and I can just...relax."

Where to go from here? The two of you sat on that patio under the watch of the stars, under the protection of the moonlight. What might happen when the sun touched your faces once more?

You doll wasn't so perfect anymore. Perhaps she would never be again.

TAGLIST: @bubblyabs @spencer-blake-supremacy 

[scullyverse]

Covered In Skin

Prompt by Laura @bohoartist for the MSR Smut Exchange 2021;

One of them (your choice) is dealing with some sore muscles while away on a case. This leads to the other giving them a massage in one of their motel rooms. One thing leads to another... yaddayaddayadda. First Time Sex please.

This is for the lovely Laura! Your prompt was so fun to write and I really hope you enjoy it! <3 Part of the MSR Smut Exchange 2021! I had so much fun participating in this event!

Also available to read on ao3

Mulder pulls a muscle during an assignment and Scully is only too happy to give him a massage in his motel room. One thing leads to another and first time sex ensues. Set early season 7. Fic for the MSR Smut Exchange 2021.

Mulder/Scully || Smut || 9.4k words || Rating E (Explicit for smut)

“Mulder! He’s headed your way!” Scully shouted, gun raised, eyes focused as the suspect made a turn away from her.

She watched as Mulder lunged out from the corner, bringing both his own body and that of the suspect to the pavement. Scully grimaced at the noise, lowering her gun now that Mulder had the suspect pinned under his knee. The safety was flipped and her gun put back into its holster as she made her way towards him. Police removed the suspect and left Scully to help her partner to his feet, smiling up at him as her hand shielded her eyes from the sun.

“Nice job there, Mulder. I didn’t take you for the tackling type.” Scully mused, her tone light.

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me yet, Scully,” Mulder teased as he brushed dirt from his pants. “I’m not just going to give all my tricks away at once.���

Her eyes rolled but she was unable to stop the slight tug of a smile on her lips as he bumped her shoulder playfully while both of them walked behind the police who loaded the suspect into the car. They had been called onto this case for an extra set of hands and though it wasn’t an X file, even Mulder had jumped at the opportunity to get off desk duty. It was a fairly simple drug bust, but Scully missed how her pulse pounded and how her adrenaline surged from being out on the field again. They stopped to watch the police car drive away and Scully crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes squinting once again against the sun.

Mulder looked down at her with soft eyes, placing his hand on her lower back; a sign of comfort, support, and - recently discovered - affection. Scully felt herself relax into his familiar caress. How can a simple touch make me feel so comforted and at the same time make me feel like shaking?

She wasn’t sure what had formed between them, they had exchanged a few odd kisses here and there over the past few months, which Scully had to admit were new and exciting. It had started one night when she had felt particularly bold, he had dropped her off at home and she’d taken a leap of faith and stood up onto her toes to kiss him. It had been short and sweet and had left her with a shy smile from the look of pleasant surprise etched onto his face. Then it had happened again, this time he had taken the initiative and kissed her at work. It was gentle and at first she had been taken aback by his forwardness, but then he had said she looked beautiful and she’d wanted to kiss him again. So she had.

Neither spoke of what it meant but it was nice nonetheless. That night they shared in his hotel room in Bellefleur, just talking into the early hours of the morning all those years ago, sparked her initial attraction to him, to his brilliance and remarkable mind. It wasn’t until later that the attraction expanded to his body too. Scully couldn’t speak for Mulder, but she knew her own hesitations towards the progression of her feelings for him. She was scared, even if it made her angry to see herself so succumbed to that fear. They were gravitating towards each other in a bubble and she feared the moment the bubble would burst, that the after effects would ruin the relationship they had before. But in their bubble she just couldn’t stop herself from constantly being sucked into his energy and inviting eyes. Eyes that seemed to captivate her for a moment now as he smiled down at her and led her towards their rental car. Her body hummed with the feeling of his strong hand on her back. So warm .

---♡---

Once they arrived at the hotel, the sun had only just set so they arranged to make use of their spare time and finish their paperwork. Scully took her time to shower and change into something more comfortable before she knocked on his door, files under her arm and glasses in hand. The air conditioning made their rooms much more accommodating than the heat outside, though Scully had still opted for silk shorts and matching singlet. Gone were the days of keeping herself overly covered in his presence; she had found herself gaining confidence around him and secretly loved the way his eyes would linger on her, finally outwardly admiring her as someone desirable. It gave her such a thrill.

It wasn’t long before Scully heard him shuffle on the other side of the door and open it with a smile. She took in his appearance; wet hair, shirt stuck to some wet spots on his skin and a pair of simple sweatpants. She was well aware he usually slept in nothing but his boxers; having been greeted by the sight in the early mornings when he answered the door rubbing sleep from his eyes. Is he being considerate to me by wearing these? Should I have been more considerate to him and changed into something more appropriate? She swallowed a slight hiccup of breath when she saw him completely transfixed on the expanse of her bare legs before his eyes moved to her chest and she felt her nipples tighten in response. His eyes met hers and she noticed his cheeks blushing. Scully could feel herself growing warm. So maybe he doesn’t mind me wearing this.

Mulder raised up his arm and Scully smiled as she ducked her head and slipped under and into the room, looking around the room with a sigh. The hotel was nice but it didn’t give much in the way of work spaces. She opted for the floor in front of the coffee table, legs crossed and tucked under her as he stood by the door for a moment.

“You okay on the floor, Scully?” He walked towards her but seemed hesitant to sit on the chair. “You can have the chair.”

“It’s fine, Mulder. I’m quite comfortable down here.”

He watched as she slid on her glasses and he finally sat down on the chair doing the same. They worked in silence, only the occasional question asked between them. With him, even silence was a comfort and Scully worked better with him next to her and the sound of his pen scrawling over paper. It reminded her of them working in their old basement office before the fire. Their old office. They continued to work and Scully was only brought out of her concentration when she heard a groan, Mulder stretching and rolling his neck. She studied him out of the corner of her eye for a moment as Mulder continued, discomfort evident on his face.

“Are you alright, Mulder?” She asked, her head tilted and tone curious.

“I’m fine,” Mulder groaned again. “Just pulled a muscle or something. Maybe tackling that guy wasn’t the smartest idea I’ve had.”

Mulder rarely showed discomfort, so Scully knew it must be uncomfortable for him. She put her glasses down and got to her feet, walking towards the bed.

“Come on. Lay down and let me give you a massage. It will help with the pain and loosen up those muscles of yours.” Scully gave the bed a pat. “Your body is probably tense in an attempt to protect the area you hurt.”

“A massage?” Mulder looked at her with a glint in his eyes. “Well, how can a guy turn down an offer like that?”

Mulder made his way towards the bed and stopped in front of her, his eyes flicking between her and the bed for a few awkward moments as his fingers hesitated in the idea of removing his shirt. In the end he chose against it and crawled onto the bed face down, a pillow pushed under his cheek for support.

“This okay? Or should I wiggle back so you can reach?” He teased.

“Shut up, Mulder,” Scully retorted in jest and rolled her eyes, climbing onto the bed and kneeling at his side as she rubbed her hands together in an attempt to warm them. “The position you are in is just fine. Push your luck and you’ll get nothing.” It was an empty threat and Mulder knew it because he just smiled and tucked one arm under the pillow.

Scully looked down at him and thought about the best way to tackle the situation before she found a spark of courage and threw caution to the wind. She rested her hands on his back before tugging at his shirt. “It will be easier if you take this off.” Scully had to bite a retort in her throat as he looked back at her with a cocked eyebrow. A playful scowl, though, was enough for him to close his mouth. Pulling the shirt over his head, Mulder revealed the vast expanse of his back to her. Scully’s eyes raked over him and for the first time she let herself admire his physique. He really is attractive. Mulder adjusted himself and got back into a comfortable position.

Straddling his thighs, a slight blush crept onto across her nose when she heard a soft moan slip from his lips. He felt hot and smooth as she ran her hands up the middle of his back with enough pressure that evoked a content rumble. Scully knew these muscles like the back of her hand but everything left her brain after a few moments of her hands on his skin. Instinct kicked in and she followed the curve of his spine, allowing her weight to travel down to her fingers. Mulder’s head tilted with a soft smile on his lips, his bottom lip pouted out in relaxation. That bottom lip looks so goddamn kissable . She shook her head in an attempt to erase the lustful thought, which caused her hair to fall and curtain her face. Good. Now maybe he can’t see me looking at that fucking lip of his.

Scully rose to her knees and shuffled forward so her hands could reach his shoulder as she worked her way towards the area that caused him pain. Settling on his ass, her eyes focused on how his skin rippled under her the movement of her fingers until Mulder suddenly jolted away from her.

“Is that where it’s uncomfortable?” Scully questioned, easing the pressure off slightly as she looked down at him with warm eyes.

“Yeah,” Mulder nodded. “Keep going though. Feels amazing, Scully.”

Scully pressed harder once again and settled back into a rhythm as Mulder moved his head and rested it back into the pillow, shielding his eyes from her. His muscles soon relaxed under her touch as she continued to work, a deep blush blossoming on her cheeks, and a warmth soon settled in her stomach as she bounced slightly against his ass with every movement of her hands. The way the curve of his right ass cheek managed to hit just the right spot applied a delicious pressure between her legs. Stop, god, you need to stop right now . She knew she should but she didn’t seem to have control over how her hips rocked gently against him. Scully heard a sudden intake of breath and she stilled instantly. Was that noise from me or him? She couldn’t be sure and she mentally chastised herself for being so focused on the feeling of him underneath her to maintain awareness. Suddenly everything seemed deathly quiet and she could swear she could hear her heartbeat.

“Keep going.” Mulder whispered just loud enough for her to hear.

There was a sudden shift in the air as Scully swallowed, her fingers continuing once more, this time making a solid attempt to keep her hips still. He wanted her to continue the massage and she would keep herself professional and do just that. Though it was impractical to keep them completely still and she couldn’t help the slight movement as she bore her weight down into her hands. Scully bit her lip and tried to focus on her fingers moving against his muscles, which became increasingly harder when she felt fingertips brushing delicately against her knee. Don’t look. Just keep going. She tried, but after a few moments she looked down and saw Mulder’s fingers playing with the skin of her knee with his head still planted firmly into the bed. Is he aware he is doing it?

Scully said nothing and the more it continued the more she didn’t want it to stop. Every touch sent butterflies to her stomach and it was those butterflies that spurred her on, to rock her hips again now unable to stop her natural instinct to seek relief of the heat she could feel between her legs. Scully bit her lip as a warmth crept up her chest. When did I become so aroused? The air seemed thick and she held back a moan when she felt his hips move beneath her. The way his hips rolled against the bed only added to the palpable tension of the room.

“S-Scully.” Mulder cleared his throat.

She opened her eyes when she heard her name. Wait, were my eyes closed? Scully looked down to meet his gaze, his eyes were almost black and his cheeks had a flush all of their own.

“I’m not sure this is the type of massage you signed up for,” he chuckled in an attempt to ease the tension between them, rolling his hips once again to keep his weight off the bed. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“Wha-oh!” Scully exclaimed.

It took a second for everything to register, then the flush of arousal on her cheeks was suddenly replaced by a deep blush of embarrassment. She removed her hands and quickly moved off him before moving back to sit on her knees. “I’m sorry Mulder, I didn’t realise.” Well that was a lie. It was obvious her movements had some effect on him, she could feel it in how he seemed to be dry humping the bed. Scully bit her lip and couldn’t take her eyes off him as he rolled over and she caught a glimpse of the erection tented in his pants, a small wet patch on the fabric. Mulder grabbed a pillow, pressing it into his lap as he moved to sit against the headboard.

“I’m sorry about this,” Mulder paused, looking at her with a childish blush of his cheeks as he nodded to the pillow before avoiding her gaze. “It will go away soon.”

They sat in silence for a moment before Scully felt his eyes on her again. He watched her with his bottom lip still pouted, though Scully now figured it was from arousal. God, how I want to kiss you. Scully licked her lips as her thoughts raced along with the rapid pounding of her pulse in her chest and between her legs. She had seen Mulder in all states of human emotion before. But arousal hadn’t been one of them until now and the way he looked at her kicked her hormones into overdrive. It was like the last six years of pent up energy hit her all at once and her body ached for him now that he was so close .

“I guess you just give one hell of a massage.” His voice was rough and low but he gave her a gentle smile.

She could tell he was trying to lighten the mood and she appreciated him for that; her lips curled into a small smile to show him she was thankful for his attempt to ease the tension between them. But her body was tuned into him now and she found herself unwilling to hold herself back any longer. Please, God. Don’t let this be a mistake. Please. A silent prayer was sent above as she got to her hands and knees and crawled towards him, stopping beside him before getting up onto her knees. Mulder watched every movement with a tightened grip on the pillow. They were now close enough to share the same breath as she reached out to trace his jaw with her thumbs and over the slight stubble on his chin. Her thumbs stopped on his lips as they pushed gently down on his bottom lip, the air thick and all Scully could feel was his warmth.

“Kiss me.” Scully said with a hushed whisper. She wanted him. Oh, how she wanted him.

Mulder searched her eyes and kissed her thumbs before arching his neck and meeting her lips. Oh, I forgot how soft his lips are . Scully moaned into his mouth as she tasted the salt and liquid warmth that was just so Mulder . She leaned forward and urged him to deepen the kiss with a lick of her tongue on his bottom lip and when he parted his lips, that was all the invitation she needed. When their tongues touched for the first time she felt a shiver shoot down her spine. This is new. They hadn’t shared anything but chaste kisses in the past and that was nothing compared to how he felt against her tongue. Mulder rumbled deep in his chest which caused Scully to whimper in return, allowing herself to be consumed by him. How have I not kissed him like this before? When on earth did he learn to kiss like this? I feel so hot. How can a kiss make me feel this hot? Damn him.

The kiss was heated and fervent and Scully found herself conflicted; she didn’t want it to end but she also wanted to turn and run in the opposite direction. Though that hesitation got smaller and smaller with every brush of his fingers on her skin and movement against her lips and when he nibbled on her bottom lip, her knees buckled with arousal. He pulled away from her sudden movement and she swallowed a whine of disapproval, sitting back down onto her heels. Her lips were hot and swollen as she caught her breath, his fingers still resting on her collarbones and every brush sent pulses down to her centre. He looked so beautiful in this state of arousal and she didn’t think it possible for his bottom lip to look even more kissable than before.

The air between them sat heavy as they both looked at each other and gathered their bearings. Scully found herself unsure of what to do; her mind and body were still conflicted, but the longer her eyes lingered on his lips, the more she found herself running out of excuses to push him away. There was a primal attraction and if he was willing, she wanted to submit to it and give herself to him. Well, only one way to find out. There’s no turning back now anyway, right? Scully moved one hand and reached for the pillow, intertwining her fingers with his as Mulder gripped the pillow tighter.

“Scully…You don-“

“I want to.” Scully’s voice was soft but firm.

Mulder searched her eyes before he relented. Scully felt her pulse quicken as she removed the pillow and threw it to the side of the bed, his eyes on her as she looked down to admire the full state of arousal he tried to shield from her. They had seen each other naked before and she hadn’t been able to stop herself from looking at him, purely out of curiosity, under the spray of the quarantine showers, but she had never seen him aroused and so proudly on display just for her.

A deep hunger settled in her body and she fought herself to not just reach out and touch him. I know that I want him. But I need to know that he wants this too. Straddling his lap, she wrapped her arms around his neck for support and this time he was the first to make a move. He pulled her in for a kiss with a smile on his lips, one that Scully eagerly replied with one of own. Mulder’s smile faltered when she rubbed herself against him, pushing his erection flush between them. A groan fell from his lips as she rolled her hips, the friction delicious as Scully pulled away from the kiss, their foreheads pressing together as they continued to rock. His hands hovered above her exposed thighs, his fingers opening and closing in fists as his hips rolled with her, making serious attempts to thrust against her damp centre. He’s so eager and man do I want him inside me.

Her eyes watched him as he fought with himself, obviously unsure if he could touch her like he wanted to. Is he hesitant to push me too far? There was something inside her that felt guilty for how she pushed him away so much in the past. He looked at her confused when she stopped her hips before she reached down and took his hands in hers, putting them on her thighs to give him encouragement.

“You can touch me. I want you to touch me,” Scully coaxed, her voice soft and husky. “Please, Mulder.”

Scully sucked in a breath as she allowed him to move his hands up her thighs, resting her hands on his arms in a soft hold as he explored her skin. Mulder guided his hands under the thin fabric of her shirt and her hips began to move again, her body now pulled flush against him. She bit her lip as he looked down at her breasts pushed against his chest and her nipples hardened from the sensation. Mulder’s hands moved to grasp her ass with no hesitation now as he encouraged the movement of her hips. Yes, touch me.

“You have no idea how long I have wanted to feel you in my lap like this.” Mulder remarked with a smile on his lips that Scully could only describe as a smirk of pure lust. His thumbs tucked into her underwear and the touch was so intimate it caused arousal to flood from her centre.

“I’ve wanted it too,” Scully bowed her head with a smirk which only made Mulder’s smile grow. “I still want it.”

Scully moved to kiss him with instantly parted lips, inviting him to deepen the kiss with enthusiasm. His hands held her tight as he gave a sharp thrust of his hips, causing Scully to give a high pitched sigh as she bit his lip once before resting her nose on his cheek.

“I need you.” Scully whispered.

Her hands slid down between them and rested either side of the erection tented in his pants as her fingers itched to touch him. He’s so close . Scully shifted back and his hips stilled as she looked at him with pleading eyes.

“Please, Scully.”

Her whole body quivered as a sharp jolt of arousal shot through her at how he begged her. Fuck, Mulder, you need to beg me again . She bit her bottom lip, removed his pants and watched how his erection sprung itself free and lay hard and swollen against his stomach. God, you are so beautiful . The tip of his cock leaked for her and it nearly made her whimper. Nearly. His fingers tangled in her hair as they kissed, his thumbs brushing her cheeks in affection that made Scully’s heart jump. Trust didn’t come easy for her and especially not in the bedroom, but right now she trusted Mulder with her body. He smiled into the kiss and gasped when Scully’s fingertips brushed the underside of his cock, her blunt nails dragging softly from base to tip.

“I didn’t know a bed could get you so aroused, Mulder.” Scully purred.

Mulder opened his eyes, looking at her smirking in affection while her nails continued to tease him. “You know full well it wasn’t the bed, Scully.”

“No. I guess it wasn’t.” Scully bit her bottom lip as she watched Mulder’s head fall backwards with pleasure.

She wrapped her fingers around his cock and began to stroke up and down. Mulder was so warm and his skin so soft in her hand as she collected his precum and used it to coat her fingertips so she could glide easier against his cock. Mulder groaned, gripping the sheets as he started to thrust his hips in a desperate attempt to achieve some relief. Taking her time, Scully marvelled at the different moans and gasps she brought out of him with the different movements of her hand; like a twist of her wrist or a squeeze of the tip of his cock. She caught him off guard when she cupped his scrotum and his hips jolted up, parting his thighs to allow more space as her hand sped up. Soon though, Mulder stopped her.

“Wait. I want to touch you too.” Mulder cleared his throat. “And if you keep doing that this is going to end much quicker than either of us want.”

Scully blushed in understanding. “I want you to touch me too.” Fuck how I want you to touch me .

Mulder nodded as Scully stood up on shaky legs as she removed her shorts, her fingers resting on the band of her underwear. She watched how Mulder visibly swallowed, eyes fixated on her. Scully would have been embarrassed with how wet she knew she was if she wasn’t already so far gone. He was so close to where she desperately wanted him and her eyes nearly bulged out of her head when she felt his forehead on her stomach, his hands resting on the back of her thighs, holding her against him. Scully whimpered and her body arched into him when he placed a tender kiss on her underwear. This man is going to be the death of me.

He sat back and it gave her space to take a breath before removing her underwear. Mulder helped her back to her knees, her chest heaving as he touched her. O-Oh . His fingers slipped between her folds and she parted her legs further to let him explore. The way he touched her was soft but firm. No comment was made about the slick sounds from his fingers exploring her wetness, but her arousal seemed to only spur him on. She gripped his shoulder to keep herself balanced as she closed her eyes. Mmm keep going. Please keep going. Mulder’s fingers brushed over her clit and her knees shook as Mulder helped her to straddle him once again. As he collected her wetness onto his fingers, nuzzling into her neck, Scully couldn’t help arching into him.

“God, Scully,” Mulder moaned, his breath tickling her ear. “Is this for me?”

“Yes,” Scully gasped when his fingers teased her entrance. “All for you.”

Scully’s toes curled and her hips shifted closer in an attempt to achieve more stimulation as her hands wrapped around him, his chin resting on her shoulder with his lips brushed against her neck. Her breath was harsh when his fingers finally entered her. Yes. Mmm yes. Scully moaned when he started a gentle rhythm of fingers inside and his thumb against her clit. Her body craved more and it was if he read her mind, adding another finger and curling them to hit the soft spot against her inner walls which caused her inner muscles to grip him tightly.

“Yes.” It was a whisper against his skin as she rocked her hips, focusing on the pleasure that he sparked inside her.

It was like she felt him everywhere all at once, his scent filling her nose and she felt nothing but the warmth radiating from him. She needed to feel him, it was a sudden urge deep down that craved the skin on skin contact. Scully pulled away and he arched an eyebrow before she bit her bottom lip and pulled her shirt over her head.

She heard him suck in a breath as his eyes stared at her stomach. Scully looked down and watched his thumb brush against the gold ring in her belly button with a glint in his eyes.

“Wow, I wasn’t expecting you to have a piercing,” Mulder teased. “Knowing you have this under those suits of yours…there’s just something so incredibly hot about that, Scully.”

Scully chuckled at his captivation. “Just my piercing?”

He looked back up at her but stopped when he caught sight of her breasts, her nipples hard, dusky pink and desperate for his touch. Scully could have laughed at the look on his face, like he had momentarily forgotten she was naked and was caught off guard by seeing her breasts for the first time. She had seen Mulder aroused, but the look in his eyes now as he admired her was something else. It was just pure unadulterated hunger and she felt a shiver.

“Definitely not just the piercing. Jesus, Scully.” Mulder praised.

Mulder’s eyes never left her breasts, and her nipples - if it was possible - grew harder under his gaze. Stop looking and just put that mouth on me alre-Oh! She didn’t have time to speak, even her thoughts faltered when he leaned down and licked the valley between her breasts before wrapping his lips around her nipple.

“Oh. Mmm.” Scully breathed out.

Her head fell back and her hips rocked harder against his willing fingers, his mouth hot and wet around her. She just wanted to be completely consumed by him and that fucking talented mouth of his. It was easy to fall and get lost in how his tongue swirled around her and she jolted back to reality with a sharp pulse of arousal to her clit as he bit down on her nipple.

“F-Fuck!” Scully gasped with a high pitched whine.

Mulder paused instantly and looked up at her, her eyes snapping open with a whimper as she looked to him with pleading eyes. Why did you stop? Don’t stop! She was about to open her mouth and complain when she felt his fingers ram into her suddenly, the wind sucked out of her lungs, her muscles clamping around his fingers in appreciation. The new pace made it hard to keep eye contact with him, but the look of awe and lust he gave her seemed to make it unavoidable.

“Say it again.” Mulder commanded, his fingers thrusting into her again.

Her body jolted forward, her head lulling to the side when he returned to her chest, now focused on the nipple he ignored the first time. It took her a moment, but she smirked when her brain realised what he was talking about. Oh, so that’s it. You like to hear me curse. She was going to retort with a smart remark but her brain lost function when he bit down on her sensitive bud again.

“Fuck.” Scully whimpered, her fingers threading through Mulder’s hair. “So good.”

She felt him smirk against her and the warmth between her legs began to grow, her body completely tuned into him and the way he worked her higher towards that peak. Her thighs shook and as much as she loved him against her chest she needed his lips again. Her fingers tugged at his hair, pulling him to her again, the kiss messy and hot, just what she needed. She panted and rocked her hips harder against him as she felt his hips take full advantage of their closer position, his cock bumping against her pelvic bone on every thrust of his hips and she found it incredibly arousing that he was getting so caught up in what he was doing to her.

Scully was getting closer as his fingers sped up, his thumb unrelenting against her clit and she found herself needing to touch him. Fuck, I’m so close, and you’re going to come with me, Mulder. I want you to come with me. Her hand slipped between them and her thumb collected his precum before sliding down slickly and in time with how his fingers worked inside her. He groaned loudly as his head fell back and Scully took the opportunity to lick the exposed column of his neck, her eyes fluttering closed when the saltiness of his skin hit her tongue. Mmm you taste exquisite. Mulder gave a loud moan as his hips shot upwards, his fingers faltering for a moment when she bit the underside of his jaw.

“Hold on.” He stopped her hand and intertwined their fingers with a smirk. “I can’t think properly when you do that. And I’m trying to make you come here.”

“But I want to come with you,” Scully replied, tugging his hand to her lips and kissing it, so desperate to have him inside of her. “I need you inside me. Please.”

Mulder’s fingers paused as they kissed again before he removed his fingers, much to Scully’s reluctance, changing their positions. It ended in tangled limbs and they both laughed, Scully on her back with him settled between her legs. They continued to chuckle together as they kissed, Scully’s hands on his arms as they kept his weight off her. It was sudden, the way the air shifted and their chuckles died down, looking into each other’s eyes, Mulder brushing her hair away from her face. All previous hesitations she had before were gone and she wanted nothing more than for him to take her.

“Please, Mulder.” Scully begged. She wasn’t normally one to beg, but her body needed the release he had promised earlier, already completely on edge.

Her legs widened in invitation as he kissed her, the kiss seemingly different than the ones before. This was slow and warm and it seemed to convey all the feelings he had for her without words, her heart thumping in her chest and her fingers gripping his arms in an attempt to keep herself grounded. She had never felt such almost overwhelming affection before and it took her breath away. I need him. I need him. I need him. It was a mantra in her head as her fingers slinked down to rest on his stomach, his muscles rippling under her touch.

“I need you, Scully,” He got to his knees and stroked himself as she watched him. “I can’t wait anymore.”

Scully nodded and bit her lip. “I need you too.”

She got to her elbows and watched him as he slid his cock through her folds, gathering her arousal and using it to lubricate himself. There was something so erotic about the sight that Scully felt her clit pulse with her heartbeat and arousal drip down to the bed. Can’t he see how ready I am for him? Stop fucking teasing! She arched her hips and gave him a raised eyebrow and was about to tell him to hurry up when his strong hand held her hips down, her head falling back when he pushed against her and slipped inside.

“Yes!” Scully moaned loudly.

Mulder’s bottom lip was tight between his teeth as he continued to slide inside with little resistance with how aroused she was and every inch he moved inside her felt incredible. They watched their bodies coming together until he was flush against her and her head thumped back against the pillow. Fuck, yes! That’s what I’m talking about. He adjusted his position and she wrapped her legs around the back of his knees to hold him close against her. Their lips met in a deep kiss as she took her time to adjust to him, her inner muscles fluttering against him with a hum of approval. His hips flexed when her muscles relaxed and she gave him a squeeze with her legs to encourage him to move.

He moved and she had to break the kiss in order to take a sharp breath as she dug her nails into his skin, Mulder’s head falling forward and his hot breath panted against her skin as he struggled to maintain a slow, gentle pace. She admired the way he cared for her but she was already so desperate, she needed to feel him and feel how much he wanted her. Scully’s fingers moved down to rest on his ass, gripping his cheeks firmly, her hands moving in time with his hips.

“Don’t hold back,” Scully emphasised her words with a tight grip of his cock with her inner muscles. “Show me how much you want me.”

Mulder grunted against her before he moved his hips more eagerly as he exposed her neck and wasted no time in kissing and sucking the soft skin behind her ear. Cheeky. She was sure it would leave a mark but she was too far gone to care. All she needed was for him to keep going, his mouth was right on her ear and the way his hot breath tickled her made her back arch.

“I want you so much,” Mulder’s hips continued to thrust, the slapping of their skin and panting breaths, the only sounds in the room. “I’ll always want you.”

Her vision became slightly blurred as she captured his lips and urged him on faster, his heartfelt sentiment sparking something inside her that made her want to give all she had to him. They were never good with words but their bodies seemed to speak for them as years of sexual attraction and emotional connection finally came to a peak. Her body was warm and so surrounded by him, making her feel protected and vulnerable at the same time. Her toes flexed when he changed the angle and he brushed against her g-spot, causing the sparks of her orgasm to build.

“Keep going. Please, don’t stop.” Scully hummed.

Mulder rested his forehead against hers and his hips pumped harder, Scully’s back arching into him. Sliding one hand between them to her clit, Mulder looked down and moaned his approval before he kissed her again, whispering against her lips. “And don’t you stop doing that.”

Scully wasn’t planning on it, especially not with how quickly she could feel her orgasm building, and not with how he managed to brush her hair off the sweaty skin of her cheeks so tenderly while he fucked her into oblivion. Her legs fell from around him and parted wider, causing him to get a deeper angle which was about all her body could take. Her eyes closed and she dug tight into his ass, her inner muscles clenching tight in preparation for the orgasm that had started to blossom in her toes, ready to shoot through her whole body at a second's notice.

“Look at me, Scully.” Mulder begged.

Scully’s eyes opened, desperation on her face as her fingers rolled against her swollen clit, her legs raising off the bed to achieve the right angle. She was so close she could almost taste it.

“I can’t hold on anymore!” Scully all but sobbed in pleasure, her nails deep into his ass with a force that caused him to hiss and rock against her, frantically desperate to push her over that edge.

“Come for me. Let me feel you.” Mulder coaxed, lips right next to her ear.

“I’m coming!” The whine from Scully’s throat was primal and raw. There, fuck, right there, oh god! Her eyes slammed shut and her legs shook when she felt her orgasm rip through her body, lights exploding behind her eyes.

Scully panted as her orgasm crashed over her, her entrance contracting around him in rapid succession, the white heat of her orgasm washing over her in blissful waves. Mulder groaned and slowed his hips down in an attempt to draw out her pleasure in replacement of his own obvious desperation to achieve release.

“Jesus, Scully!” Mulder grunted.

Scully’s body continued to shake beneath him as she rode out her orgasm, her whole body alive and sparking just for him. When the pleasure began to ease, her body relaxed and her legs fell open onto the bed, her chest heaving in an attempt to get her breath back as she opened her eyes to watch Mulder brush her hair away, a smile on his face.

“You are so beautiful.” Mulder confessed and it made Scully break out in a warm smile, her face relaxed in pure bliss. His words only made her body feel warmer, her heart swelling in her chest.

She got lost in his eyes as he kissed her, the kiss soft before desire kicked in and he groaned against her lips, rolling onto his side, and although Scully was momentarily confused, she smiled and allowed him to pull her with him as she rested her leg high on his waist. One of his hands held her thigh against him and the other slipped between her and the bed to pull her closer to him as he started to thrust again. This new angle was different and allowed deeper penetration which caused her head to fall forward into the crook of his neck as his hips worked harder against her, his fingers digging deeper into the supple flesh of her thigh.

She felt so enveloped by how his scent and sweat covered her skin, his large frame cradling her close in an entanglement of limbs. It was an intoxicating feeling and she could already feel herself becoming addicted to it. Burying her nose into his shoulder she nibbled on his exposed skin, tasting the saltiness of him on her tongue and she could sense he was close with how his hips lost their rhythm and became erratic. Scully suspected he was trying desperately to hold on and she had to admit that she didn’t want it to end either, but she wanted him to feel the pleasure he had given her moments before. She wanted to see him completely and utterly vulnerable for her.

“It’s okay, let go,” Scully whispered as she kissed his lips, pulling back only enough to speak again. “Come for me, Mulder.”

He nodded with a whine and it quickly became her new favourite sound. Mulder gripped her thigh tighter and she knew there would be marks there in the morning but it felt too good to care. Mulder’s hips faltered for a moment when he rolled them back into their original position, Scully’s leg’s spread wide and open for him as he lifted his head, picking up his pace with closed eyes and parted lips, panting as his hips started to shake. Wow, you look absolutely gorgeous like this, Mulder. So beautiful.

Mulder’s hand quickly let go of her thigh and she let it fall to the bed as he pushed himself up and pulled out of her. Scully grunted in disapproval with the emptiness left, clenching around nothing and missing his fullness until her brain clicked onto what he was doing a few moments later. If she hadn’t already been completely soaked she would have been now. Mulder held himself up on his knees and elbows with his cock resting close to her, his fist frantically pumping, Scully biting her lip as she reached down, resting one hand on his pubis, so close that his fingers brushed against her wrist with every stroke.

His eyes were closed and she took the time to look down and watch his swollen cock slide effortlessly in his fist with the mixture of their arousal. How she so desperately wanted to touch him and feel him release into her hand, but she didn’t want to ruin his pleasure so she just dug her nails slightly into his skin in compromise and that seemed to be enough of a stimulation as his hips bucked and his eyes snapped open. Scully’s stomach muscles rippled as the tip of his cock brushed against her skin and poked into her belly button on occasion, the slight tug at her piercing sending fresh jolts of arousal straight to her core.

“S-Scully…” Mulder stuttered as he looked down between their bodies. “So close.”

“Yes.“ Scully purred in return, her eyes fixated on him as he brought himself over the edge.

Groaning loudly, Mulder let his orgasm wash over him as he held his cock against her, spurting thick ropes of cum that coated her stomach. Scully arched up as the hot liquid hit her skin, her eyes focused on him in the throes of his orgasm. His hand continued to stroke himself as he whined, the head of his cock bumping into her belly button as he gently thrust against her, cum still dripping out of him. Oh wow . It was one of the hottest things Scully had seen and she bit her lip, her fingers digging into his skin as he slid against her stomach, coating her even more with his desire. He moaned as Scully gripped his hair and pulled him down to kiss him again.

He was almost breathless and after the kiss she let him fall down onto her, the mess between them forgotten as she wrapped her arms and legs around him in a warm embrace. She wasn’t normally one to enjoy the heavy weight of a man on top of her, but with Mulder it just felt so comforting. A hum of approval rumbled in her throat as he nuzzled into her and she closed her eyes, just taking in his warmth and enjoying the post-coital bliss. It wasn’t until Scully became aware of the stickiness between them that she started to pull away and he got back onto his knees, a blush on his cheeks.

“I’m sorry about that, Scully,” Mulder smirked as he ran his hands up her thighs and to her bent knees. “You took away my brain function there for a second.”

Scully smiled and shook her head. “Don’t apologise, I liked feeling you on top of me. It felt...” She paused as if trying to find the right word as she got to her elbows. “Comforting.”

They looked at each other before she looked down at her glistening stomach. It made her clit throb knowing that she was covered in him and nothing but him. Mulder followed her eye line as Scully reached down to collect the liquid in her belly button before his eyes grew wide.

“Oh, shit! Your piercing!” Mulder spluttered with panic in his eyes. “I didn’t mean…Is it going to get infected? I didn’t think! I’m so sorry.”

Scully let him rush out his panic before she giggled, her head falling back as she struggled for breath. Opening her eyes, Scully immediately felt guilty when his face still showed nothing but worry. She smiled before she carefully sat up and brushed his jaw with her thumb.

“No, no, please don’t worry. It’s okay, honestly,” Scully traced his frowned eyebrow. “It won’t get infected. It’s been healed for years, it’s okay.” Scully watched him nod and sigh with relief.

“Was that okay?” He asked.

She guessed he wasn’t just talking about the way his desire was cooling on her stomach but about what they had just done. It was definitely a huge step in their relationship and one she didn’t think would have happened like this - well, if she was honest she hadn’t really been sure if it would have happened at all, even though there had always been a part of her that wanted him. Scully got up onto her knees and wrapped her arms around his neck, sucking his cum off her finger, Mulder licking his lips in approval.

“It was more than okay,” Scully confided as she looked into his eyes and tried to swallow down the lump of emotion that dwelled into her throat at the look of love in his eyes. Oh god, please don’t look at me like that, my heart can’t take it. But she smiled and bit her lip. “A lot more than okay.”

Mulder nodded in relief before he kissed her again, Scully moaning into his lips as she pulled away. “Come on, we should go get cleaned up. I don’t want to ruin the sheets.”

Mulder smirked as Scully struggled to move on wobbly legs. “You okay there, Scully?”

Scully playfully smacked his arm, taking the hand he offered to help her off the bed. “Shut up, Mulder.” Her tone was light as she intertwined their fingers and pulled him towards the bathroom, Mulder following behind her and never letting go of her hand.

---♡---

The shower was just what Scully needed. They washed together, Mulder made sure she washed her belly button thoroughly, and she smiled when he washed her hair before they melded together under the spray of the water. It was soft and gentle, even when Mulder took her again against the cool tiles of the shower. Their orgasms came quickly and even though they weren’t as strong as the ones before, they were just as pleasurable. Once they finished, he lowered her to the floor and they washed again, Scully cleaning their mixed arousal off her inner thighs. They dried together, smiling, before they made their way back into the room. Mulder got under the covers of the bed and watched as Scully gathered their clothes and put them onto the coffee table next to their forgotten paperwork, which they could finish over the weekend. Scully looked over at him as he lay there with the empty side of the bed’s covers pushed back in invitation.

There was a part of her deep inside that went on high alert and told her she needed to run, to get out of this situation and that the feelings of love and adoration she felt for him were too much, as they started bubbling up in her chest. They were too intense to process with her brain pumping endorphins around her body and she knew she couldn’t trust her judgement right now. She wasn’t in the right frame of mind to make a decision when her body called for her to go to him and leave the consequences to be dealt with tomorrow. Oh, how easily she could succumb to them. It was frightening, really. She stood there for a moment in the middle of the room, her towel loosely wrapped around her body, her heart pounding in her chest. Scully felt her eyes drawn to him, his gaze soft as he sat up against the headboard.

“You don’t have to stay, Scully.” Oh, how well you can read me, you always have been so good at it. Damn you. His voice was soft and she felt a sting to her heart when she heard a trace of sadness there. “I understand if you want to go. It’s okay.”

What are you doing? Stop with this shit! This is Mulder. This is the Mulder who you just slept with. This is the Mulder who looks at you like he truly loves you. Just go to him! Her heart screamed at her, but her head told her she needed time to process and she shouldn’t jump into something just because her body wanted it. She couldn’t fuck this up. Not with Mulder, he meant far too much to her. Scully swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded before collecting her clothes and leaving the room, not looking back to him because she knew it would be too hard to leave if she did. Scully rested her back against the door after it shut and looked into her room; it was so dark and empty, the light of his room peaked from under the door and she already missed the warmth.

Walking over to sit down on the bed, Scully let her arms hug around her body in an attempt at self comfort. She so desperately wanted to allow herself the happiness of being wrapped in him, but she didn’t want to possibly ruin what they had; because what they had was just too fucking important to her. It was probably the most important thing to her. Sex could just be sex. But feelings would make things harder, they always did.

Scully ran her hands over her face and brushed her wet hair back as she let her towel pool in her lap. But you want to go back there, stop denying yourself that. Things felt right, didn’t they? It had actually been amazing how naturally they had come together, as though they’d been doing it for years, and she supposed that parts of them had. He hadn’t given her any reason to doubt how much he cared for her and she felt herself wondering if maybe she should ignore her head for once. In all the years what has it gotten me? An empty bed and an even emptier heart . Biting her bottom lip, Scully gave a little strangled whimper when she tasted him still on her lips.

There was a deep ache that had settled between her legs and a bruised feeling on her thigh and all she felt was him, the thought only causing her heart to ache too. She wanted him and she wanted to let herself have that happiness she craved. Hell, even if it only lasts a little, it will be better than not having it all, right? They could work things out later, she just wanted to let herself have tonight. If that was all God was going to give her, she would make it count.

She pulled her towel back around her body and got to her feet, making her way towards the door, her hand lingering on the door knob before she decided to knock. It only took one tap of her knuckles against the wood before she heard him on the other side. “You don’t have to knock, Scully.”

Opening the door, she saw Mulder sitting up in bed, the covers still open in invitation for her. He gave her a questioning look, and just him so close to her again made her heart beat faster. This is where she wanted, no, needed to be. In the warmth and the light, not in the cold darkness alone. Not anymore . Scully gave him a reassuring smile and she could have sworn she had never seen him smile so big before. He lay back, his eyes raking over her body, and when she dropped the towel to reveal her bare skin to him once again, he moaned in approval. His eyes lingered on her breasts before they moved over her piercing, the patch of auburn curls between her legs, then travelled up to her eyes.

“You’re killing me over here, Scully,” Mulder chuckled and Scully smirked, walking towards him with a confident sway to her hips. “You need to give a guy some warning before you do that. So I can at least prepare myself.”

Scully giggled as she reached the bed, only hesitating for a split second before she slipped under the covers and looked up at the ceiling. Feeling him shift, she rolled onto her side with her back to him, unsure of how much he was willing to give her after she had pulled away once again. It didn’t take more than a few seconds before she felt his arms linger around her, hesitant to touch. Scully turned and looked into his eyes, his warmth so inviting as she shuffled towards him before raising her finger in warning, his eyebrow cocked in amusement at her playful attitude.

“If you steal my half of the blankets, I’ll kill you.” Her lips curved in amusement as he nodded and mock-pouted.

Moving as close to him as she could, she wrapped her arms around him. Mulder finally rested his arms around to hold her in a close embrace. Scully hadn’t even been aware that she’d been holding her breath, but it came out in a content sigh when he cradled her head to him and kissed the crown of her head deeply. This feels so right. He’s so soft. Legs slipped between his and there was something so intimate about how their hips connected, his cock soft and rested against her centre, curls rubbing against curls. Closing her eyes, she couldn’t help how her lips curled up when the wiry hair of his chest tickled her breasts, her body relaxing into the gentle way his fingers moved up and down her back.

“I hope your muscles are nice and relaxed now.” Scully smirked as her arms tightened around him and she kissed the skin of his shoulder.

“Very relaxed. Never felt more relaxed than right now,” Mulder paused and pulled her tighter to him, his voice a whisper. “And I’m not talking about the massage. Just being with you is so...” He paused again. “Comforting.”

As he relayed her earlier sentiment, Scully’s heart leapt. I’ve never felt so warm.

[blitzturtles]

Title: Looming

Rating: Teen and Up

Fandom: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Diamond Is Unbreakable (Future Fic)

Pairing(s): JosuHan

Summary: The size of it feels overwhelming. Like it’s already bearing down on him, despite his inability to actually reach out and touch it. His shoulders slump with the weight of it’s unknown presence, and his chest heaves from every breath he takes under the thing’s tremendous weight.

Or: the one where Rohan has a post-mania depressive episode, and Josuke is there to help.

Notes: Still having trouble writing, so I keyboard smashed some vent fic. Also, please check my pinned post here for my GFM for a new wheelchair, thank you!

It’s coming.

It’s coming, and Rohan doesn’t know what it is.

There’s something looming over him, and he can’t see its shadow, much less whatever it is. He doesn’t know how to anticipate an attack from an invisible enemy; wouldn’t even know where to begin to look, but he knows that it’s there. Watching. Waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

The size of it feels overwhelming. Like it’s already bearing down on him, despite his inability to actually reach out and touch it. His shoulders slump with the weight of it’s unknown presence, and his chest heaves from every breath he takes under the thing’s tremendous weight.

He thinks about telling someone, but he doesn’t want them to look at him any differently. Doesn’t want them to think he’s losing his mind, or that he can’t handle his own when push comes to shove. So he keeps quiet. Pressing on for days even when his energy swings from something hyperactive to near stagnation.

He can’t work like this. Every time he touches pen to paper, he feels like he’s suffocating. The ink bleeds outward until the lines on the paper are as indistinguishable as his thoughts.

There’s part of him that thinks he should be frustrated. Angry, even, but how can he be, when all he is now is confusion and anxiety and dread?

Vaguely, Rohan thinks of Cheap Trick. Of a thing he had only been able to see out of the corners of his eyes yet had been intent on killing him. Whatever this is, it clings mercilessly to his back and sends his heart racing until he has to shove his chair back and race for the door of his studio. He needs to get away. Whatever it is, he needs to get away.

He only makes it about two feet into the hall before the weight of it finally catches up to him and forces him onto his knees. He sinks to the ground from there, hands finding their way into his hair. His fingers grip tightly and tug, while his body curls inwards, knees tucking into his chest and forehead pressing against the floor.

Something presses against his back. It’s not the same as the crushing, all consuming feeling that blankets his entire body. Just a firm, yet gentle hand that takes center. It’s followed up by a voice that he vaguely recognizes, but he can’t bring himself to move. His eyes burn, so he clenches them shut tightly enough to force unshed tears to fall. Every breath he takes is a gasping, shuddering effort.

A different pressure settles over him. One that’s equally all consuming, but feels more like a warm blanket than something intent on killing him. Arms slowly snake around his middle, and the thing-- the person-- simply hugs him while draping their weight on top of him. In an odd way, it’s soothing. A moment ago, he wouldn’t have thought himself capable of handling anymore, but this new mass is different. Welcomed. Soon enough, his breathing begins to even out, and the ringing in his ears settles enough that he realizes he’s been sobbing the whole time. His voice sounds hoarse in his own ears, and there’s another beyond that. Still speaking, despite the fact that he hasn’t heard a thing that’s been spoken since the other man arrived.

“Hey,” Josuke says warmly, though his concern seeps into his tone. “You back with me?”

Rohan tries to form a half-way intelligent response, but all he can do is give the barest nod and try to choke down the next, half-sob. He hiccups instead, and Josuke presses a kiss to the nape of his neck. It’s so gentle and loving that it almost sets off another round of tears, but Rohan manages to fight them back.

They stay like that for a bit longer. Rohan works to calm his breathing as much as he can and repeatedly has to work himself back down when tightness spreads across his chest again. The arms around him help. They keep him grounded until they finally let go and Josuke sits up.

“C’mon, let’s get off the floor,” Josuke murmurs, though it’s only a suggestion. Rohan knows he would stay down here for eternity if he only asked it of Josuke, but he nods instead, letting himself be pulled to his feet and guided toward their shared bedroom.

Josuke carefully strips him out of his pants and top, leaving Rohan in his boxers for the moment that it takes Josuke to find one of his own sweatshirts. He tugs it on over Rohan’s head and smiles when Rohan’s headband ends up being more like a blindfold after the collar of Josuke’s sweater snags on it. Rather than fix it, he simply slides it off and hands it to Rohan, knowing that Rohan prefers to keep it close. Rohan holds it tightly in his hands as Josuke guides him to their bed.

Once in bed, Josuke wraps himself around Rohan once more. He curls his arms around Rohan’s waist and mutters meaningless words. It’s all babble. Things about his day. About whatever Okuyasu and Koichi are up to. About work. Whatever it takes to keep Rohan’s mind static. Who needs a white noise machine with a partner like Josuke?

He almost laughs at the thought. His chest must shake enough to give him away, because Josuke hums at him questioningly. Rohan laughs for real this time. “Nothing,” he says with another laugh when Josuke huffs in his ear, “Just- thank you.”

“Anytime, Roh.”

And that’s what does it. What makes Rohan’s muscles fully relax. Because he knows that Josuke means it. That he’ll always be there. No matter what. No matter how ridiculous Rohan’s breakdowns are. Or how many of them he has. Josuke will be there.

[tinyboxxtink]

“Return To Sender” *Part 2*

So I promised @objection-argumentative I would do a second chapter of this, and instead I wrote “Helpless”. So I wanted to make good on my promise. Sorry took so long babe!

This will either end here, or if it continues it’ll be a “Sexy friends eventually build real feelings for each other and don’t know how to handle it” situation. Don’t know who’s all down for that. 

Also, I did some...research, and learned how to write smut! Yay me! That sounds so awkward...but, anyway. I really thought that this story just entirely focused on that so, I did my best! (Shout out to @storiesofsvu for inspiration 😅☺️)

WARNING: SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT. 

If you missed Part 1 

Check out Part 3

"And then he just walked out?" 

You were detailing the horrific night to your room mate, who wasn't making the situation any better.

"YES!!!! God I am so fired…." You sighed, putting your hands over your face.

"Well hold on there, drama queen," they interrupted your breakdown. "Did your boss seem upset?" 

“I mean, not really but why wouldn’t she be?” You shrugged.

“It’s not like you were texting during work or something. And he’s like, not even close to being in charge of you right, so it’s not sexual harassment…”

“I’m pretty sure discussing one’s oral skills would be considered sexual harassment babe,” you rolled your eyes.

“Well you didn’t actually say it to him! Or even text it! He just... happened to find out,” They shrugged with a giggle.

“I guess…” 

“I wouldn’t worry about it hon, seriously,” They patted your head and went back to their own room.

You agreed and went to bed, still not entirely sure they were right.

----

The next day as soon as you got to work, there was paperwork sitting on your desk. 

“What’s this?” you asked Amanda, who was your desk mate. 

“Barba wanted you to come collect a warrant,” She raised an eyebrow.

“Oh for fuck’s sake...Can’t you do it? Couldn’t ANYONE do it?” 

“I mean he did ask for you,” 

“God….great, now I have to go and listen to him gloat about he’s such a big deal, and that I’m in love with him, and blah blah blahhhh….”

“Yeahhhh, his ego’s probably too big to fit through a door now,” She chuckled. 

“Ugh...I’ll be back,” you sighed and grabbed the paperwork, headed downtown to the District Attorney’s Office.

---

“Hi, I’m here for Mr. Barba,” You greeted Barba’s receptionist. 

“He’s on the phone, but if he’s expecting you, you can go right in,” 

You figured he was expecting you. You nodded and walked right into his office where he was indeed, on the phone. Dressed in an all black suit with the square shoulders, a pink dress shirt with a black tie. God he always looked amazing. And now that he knew you knew that, he’d never let it go. 

He smiled when he saw you, mumbled something about having to call the person back and hung up, still grinning wildly. 

“Well that was fast,” He took the papers from you.

“Yeah...what did you need them for?

“I actually didn’t need them, I needed you,” His tone suddenly shifted into a seductive one. 

“....For what?” You blinked your eyes in confusion; was this actually happening?

“Well, I thought you might wanna take me up on my offer,” He grinned devilishly, walking around his desk to get closer to you.

“A-Are you serious?” You thought you might pass out right there in his office.

“Were you not?” He raised an eyebrow.

“I mean I, just-- I mean I never thought that--” your face was flushing hot, you couldn’t breathe. Of all the possible scenarios that could have come from him finding out about that text, this was the LEAST possible one you ever thought would happen. 

“...You weren’t serious, were you? I’m sorry, I probably shouldn’t have assumed--” He turned away sheepishly and started back to his desk.

“YES I WAS,” You blurted out in an almost deafening tone. You hadn’t been serious, but if he was offering what you thought he was, there was absolutely no way in hell you were passing that up. 

“Lock the door,” His eyes sparkled with arousal, his grin turning mischievous. You ran to lock the door as you heard Barba speak into his intercom: 

“Sarah, hold all my calls. I’m gonna be busy for a while,” He smirked, making you shiver with anticipation.

“I um...ahem…where do you want me?” You looked around the room for a spot that would be comfortable to lay on...for God knows how long. 

“There,” he nodded to a couch in the corner. 

“Oh. Right. Obviously,” you giggled nervously. God dammit, now is not the time to be your weird awkward self!

“Calm down carino, I’m not going to bite…” He smiled, coming closer to you. When he reached you close enough he pulled you into him, making you gasp with excitement.

“Hard,” he winked, before picking you up and tossing you on the couch. 

“Now you just relax, enjoy and remember-- tips are always appreciated,” he winked as he hiked up your skirt. 

You were going to say something about him being such an ass, but you barely got halfway through your sentence before it was strangled by a thunderous moan, because Barba had wrapped his wet lips around your clit and started sucking.

“OH FUCK,” you yelped, suddenly not giving a damn how loud you were being. Barba laughed against your body and the vibration traveled through you like an ecstatic earthquake.

 “Keep it down sweetie, people are trying to work,” He smirked, before going back down between your legs.

Pinning your thighs apart with his big warm hands, Barba started to work his tongue in an up-and-down motion on one side of your clit and then the other. 

“God, you’re so wet for me,” he groaned, lifting his head for just a moment, and you growled with frustration and shoved his face back where it belonged. You had never been so forward and...aggressive, like this before but something about him just brought out an animalistic side of you. 

Barba switched to a circular motion, his tongue looping up, over and around your clit again and again, catching it in a tiny whirlpool of pressure and wetness and just enough friction. You couldn’t believe how good it felt. It was like your own fingers, but faster, softer, smoother..

 You made noises deep in your throat that you didn’t even know you were capable of: wild, uninhibited, un-you-like noises.

 Barba grabbed a pillow and stuffed it over your face, trying to silent your quite visceral noise making. You couldn’t help it, and you didn’t care.

One of Barba’s hot hands left your thigh and you missed it immediately, until you realized where he had moved it to. As his tongue continued to twist and spin against your clit in a seemingly impossible rhythm, he slipped first one finger, then two, inside you, and pushed them up against your G-spot. His hands were bigger than yours – you’d often secretly admired the way they looked wrapped around the grip of his pen– and his fingers felt so much more substantial than your own, filling you up like you never could when you were by yourself.

His tongue slipped across that one spot on the tip of your clit that always set you off, and suddenly you were coming on his mouth, grasping fistfuls of his hair and moaning into the pillow so hard you thought you might suffocate. He clamped his lips around your clit and squeezed rhythmically, riding it out with you, using his free hand to hold your hips steady as they bucked against his face. Your internal muscles gripped his fingers in waves and he waited until your contractions had completely stopped before slowly sliding his two fingers out of you and into his mouth to lick them clean.

“So what did you think, as good as you imagined?” He smirked, looking down at your body, that wasn’t moving. 

“Y/N?” He pulled the pillow from your face, and you still lay there comatose. 

“Oh fuck, Y/N!” He shook you, to which you finally responded with a blink of your eyes. 

“Jesus Christ, I thought I had killed you,” He sighed in relief, grabbing his pocket square out of his suit to wipe his mouth clean.

“....I think you almost did,” You were finally able to form words; you had actually blacked out after coming because it was so exquisite.

You were still reeling from his mouth being inside you, now you wanted yours in his. You jumped up off the couch and tried to kiss him, but he stopped you.

“Oh sweetie no, I don’t kiss on the mouth. Too intimate,” he shook his head with a “no” motion of his fingers.

“Oh...um...sorry,” You suddenly became very insecure and awkward once again, realizing what had really just transpired. He was actually just proving to you that your thoughts were warranted, nothing more.

“So um..do you want me to….?” You gestured to his very obvious erection poking through his suit.

“I mean...if you want to,” He shrugged nonchalantly.

“I mean I just...um, I’ve never….” Your face grew hot and you twirled your hair nervously. Barba’s face went from a smirk to a look of horror.

“You’ve...You’ve never….Christ don’t tell me you’re a virgin, Y/N,” His hands went over his head in a stressful manner.

“N-NO, I’m not! I’ve had sex…” You looked everywhere but his eyes as you added “...Once,” 

“...And have you ever had...that, done?” He raised an eyebrow.

“...Kind of?” You thought back to your one and only serious boyfriend, back in college. He had tried going down on you, but halfway through he had gotten sick and thrown up. It later turned out that he was very, very gay. Yes, your dating life was fascinating.

“Oh my god...what have I done?” He shook his head with a dry laugh.

“You don’t need to do anything, sweetheart,” He smiled, putting his hands on both of your shoulders. “This one’s on me,” 

Sweetheart? What were you, ten all of a sudden? And THIS one? Was he implying this was going to happen again? Was he NOT just freaking out that he had taken your “oral virginity”? This whole thing had suddenly turned into a competition, and you were sure as hell not going to lose.

“You know what, I’m gonna go learn how to do...that,” You gestured to his erection once again. 

“And it’s going to blow your mind. Then we’ll see who’s calling who ‘sweetheart’, ok counselor?” 

“Oh I very much look forward to that, Ms. Y/N. Doubtful, but I enjoy the enthusiasm,” That cocky tone of his dripped with sarcasm as he led you to his door.

“Yeah...well...GOOD,” You literally had no better comebacks than a five year old, mostly because your mind was still in a haze from his brilliant mouth work. Dammit. 

“Very productive meeting, Ms. Y/N!” He yelled at you as you walked down the hall and out the front door onto the bustling New York City streets. 

As mad as you were, you still had to text your BFF: 

“I was ABSOLUTELY right!”

[smolbeandrabbles]

When The Lights Go Out - Director Keller x Reader (Captain Marvel)

Gif credit @crawlingmist 🙏💙 for sending me this one in particular for this fic, bless you ❤️

@wltz-bby​ @happyskywhale​

Author’s Note: 🤷‍♀️ So, Keller has actually nicked music from himself because this is the song that I was going to use for his first time with his space girl. ALAS! I turned the tables and still thought the song was perfect. It’s just clearly the Keller smut song. And here we are-!

All this is just conversations with @mandy23b​ - spending a little too much time focusing on his belt buckle and tie... and it just escalated... and this was born! I decided “Shoot! I gotta write this!” and then the amazing Joss (@Crawlingmist) told me “Oh, I was going to GIF him on the floor but-” And I insisted “But nothing - I will beg you for it!”

When The Lights Go Out - Jason Aldean It’s a real mood setter don’t you dare skip it!

Disclaimer: Captain Marvel characters not mine / GIF was a gift and a blessing and I can’t stop staring at it / lyrics not mine seriously listen to the damn song!

Premise: It’s not often that Director Keller lets you turn the tables on him, so when he does, you have to take every advantage of it...

Words: 6220

Warnings: Sinday/Sunday Smut / swearing / Sub-Dom tones (Dom!Reader)

______

I gotta get to you baby, I gotta get to you now Without you I'm going crazy, without you girl I'm going wild The only thing that I wanna do is fall into you

Baby, when the lights go out I wanna hear that want you sound On your lips when I lay you down (down down down) I wanna love you 'til there's nothing left All night until the sky turns red Do everything that we ain't done yet But we been thinkin' about Baby, when the lights go out Baby, when the lights go out

A day can feel like forever, baby when you're not around Yeah, when we ain't together, you're all I dream about I'm turning corners I'm driving, over to your house

Baby, when the lights go out I wanna hear that want you sound On your lips when I lay you down (down down down) I wanna love you 'til there's nothing left All night until the sky turns red Do everything that we ain't done yet But we been thinkin' about Baby, when the lights go out

The only thing that I wanna do, is fall into you

---

Your breaths were short and shaky, sweat danced on your skin, your bodies were close and yet you needed him closer. Being one with him wasn’t enough. It was never enough.   He trembled beneath you, nails digging into your hips, heartbeat erratic but sighs blissful. A mess. You’d made him a vulnerable mess. You dipped to kiss him again, and this time he moaned gently against your lips – nails scrapping your skin. Those little red marks they would surely leave making you smirk. To see the S.H.I.E.L.D Director pinned under you and completely at your mercy was a rare event. One you weren’t about to waste in a hurry. But he’d been begging you for hours, and now you were ready for him. “Tell me darling…” You whispered gently, “Tell me what you want.” Keller’s body shook again; this time at merely the sound of your voice. Your teasing only making him worse. “You…” the voice was almost a whimper, “You… Y/N… Please…” You took his hands in yours, moving them up over your form as you aligned yourself with him, allowing your body to slowly sink onto him. Keller’s body immediately arched up into yours in reaction, and those nails came back with a vengeance – making you hiss softly. “S-Sorry…” You shook your head, rolling your hips over his, just to let him know who was in charge – and listening to the gorgeous way his breath hitched. “Now, now, Director, don’t apologise just yet.” You laced your hands with his, kissing his fingertips; “Let me see those gorgeous eyes of yours.” He opened them slowly, that pretty blue burning more intense than you’d ever seen it, a nice accompaniment to the hard blush across his cheeks. As Keller traced his eyes down your body he swallowed hard, and try as he might, you could still hear that groan rise in his chest. “Baby…” You breathed, resting his hands back on your hips – he could guide you, but not control you. That was as much as you’d be giving him tonight. “You may begin.” *** You would be lying if you said you didn’t see this coming. That this man hadn’t brought this upon himself. Keller was not a selfish lover; he wasn’t a dominant one either. He was a good man, in every sense of the word. Whatever he had to do in the line of ‘duty’ was not something Keller ever allowed to define himself. You’d known for a long time that although you were dating a man that could be firm, and very nearly ruthless if he had to be, Keller was a sweetheart. There was simply no other word. With all this in mind, he was still very much a traditionalist. Keller was in control of the relationship because that’s how things were. He was older than you, and he was a Southern Gentlemen. So you would expect nothing less. But sometimes Keller would let you be in control. Sometimes he wanted you to be in control. He’d never say it – maybe a little too proud for that – but he gave off far too many signals. Sitting picture perfect in his office in your favourite suit, when he’d spent so much effort this morning getting ready, and asking you to pick out a tie for him – was one of these. Keller would ask you to pick out ties often this was true, but this morning it was: “Y/N, how do I look?” “Y/N, what about this one?” “Y/N, would you help me with this?” Part of you didn’t see the point in him asking you to knot his tie if he was only going to beg you to take it off him later. But you played the game, because he was requesting your attention, and you would dutifully give it. You’d spent a lot of time un-subtly flirting with him today – and he got continuously hot under the collar. Aiding your confidence was only going to help him get what he wanted most, after all. But now the work day was done, and he was sitting in his home office finishing up. He looked beyond gorgeous; you’d have to give him that. It was a shame that you’d be spending so much time messing that suit up. You gave him just enough time to sort his filing before you entered, barely even bothering to knock. “Jonathan.” You leant against the door frame, very nearly nonchalantly, and he knew what was coming from the way he swallowed and looked up to you. “Yes?” “Don’t you think you’ve been working long enough..?” Now was time to spend all your attention on him, and you wouldn’t be taking no for an answer. “Well, I’m not sure a Director’s job is ever done!” Keller studied you carefully as you walked across the room to him, pushing his chair out from his desk. Those blue eyes very nearly innocent. “I disagree. I think now is a very good time for your job to be done.” He barely gave the paper on his desk a second glance as he threw his pen down and stood, “And, as my partner, you’re probably right.” “Good boy.” You knew by now that it was never too early to start. As soon as you had his agreement in the direction of the evening, why not initiate the shiver inducing pleasure? You watched Keller’s eyes widen a little, in surprise that you would consider beginning such a phrase this early – then the shake that subtly ran his spine, as you expected. He looked back to you, blinking slow, but you weren’t even going to give him the opportunity to answer you back. Running your eyes down his suit again you couldn’t help but bite your lip. If one thing was for sure, you were about to take your sweet time. You wanted him aching for you, down on his hands and knees begging for you – nothing less would do. And your smirk told him as such. You ran your hands up his body from his stomach to his chest, sliding them underneath his jacket to push it from his shoulders. At the pressure of your fingertips Keller tensed, breathing already deep – you could hear that yourself, but the rise and fall of his chest certainly helped affirm it. Keller was too focused on you, on what he wanted you to do to him. His jacket slipped down his arms and pooled to the floor – but his eyes remained focused on you. You let your eyes sweep him again, shaking your head, “Damn, why do you look so good?” “I try my hardest,” His voice was quiet as your fingertips traced him again, “especially for you.” You grinned, “Mmhm…” it was the right answer, and you traced all the way to his belt buckle. You wondered if it was that big on purpose. Large and square, in polished silver, it was in stark contrast against his dark suit; you couldn’t miss it even if you’d wanted to. Instead of undoing his belt – you latched your fingers around it, pulling him to you. “I hope you’re ready for this, Director.” Instead of even telling you yes, Keller merely nodded, submitted to what he knew his evening would entail as you continued to pull him with you, walking backwards in confidently large steps towards your bedroom. He followed you obediently, keeping his hands to himself. This was all about your hands on him. Both of you already knew that. This man wasn’t just a top S.H.I.E.L.D Agent, he was the top S.H.I.E.L.D agent. You were well aware he could take control at any moment; he could tell you no or pin you against the wall – or do just about anything else. Hell, this man could kill you – kind and gentle though he was. The power behind his submissiveness wasn’t to be underestimated, just as the control he’d allow you every so often wasn’t to be abused. Jonathan Richard Keller would only be this vulnerable with you, he was only willing to do this with you – because the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D trusted you more than anything or anyone else. Tomorrow you’ll both have got what you wanted and your sweet Southern Gentleman would stare at you over breakfast like he’d never seen anything so beautiful. Then spend the rest of the day ordering you around at work. Tonight, the ordering was yours to do – and he didn’t want you to waste one second of it. With the bedroom door closed and his hips against yours, you ran back up his chest again, to the top button of his waist coat. Your voice was slow and smooth, just the right side of a sexy whisper, and you’d hold it at that tone for the majority of the evening: “There’s just something so sexy about a man in a three-piece suit…” You undid the top button and leant up – lips ghosting his skin. Keller trembled at the almost contact, swallowing hard. You trailed down his neck in a series of barely there kisses. “Talk about so hot you’re hurting my feelings…” “Y/N-” You only undid the second button at the tone of his voice, sinful delight in your ear at the gentle shake he was aiming to keep out of it. “That’s it, just like that.” You moved your hips against his, and he gasped – short, as if it was a sound Keller didn’t want to let out. There was movement in his arms and his fingertips twitched as he tipped his head back, inviting further kisses. “Director, you know that touching me will only make me go slower, don’t you?” “Yes,” Keller sighed again, restrained, “I’m sorry.” Three down. “Good boy.” “Mmm.” That was a different kind of vocalisation, and this time his hips jerked into yours. With how good that felt to you, you weren’t about to punish him for it. “Careful, Director.” Your voice was sugar sweet as you finished with his waistcoat – this time grazing those almost kisses along his jawline. Not satisfied with his head being tipped in a way that meant you couldn’t see the blush you knew would be covering Keller’s face by now, you yanked him back to you by his tie. Keller wasn’t expecting the movement, and the tug was sharp, causing him to steady himself against your body. You looked at both his hands before meeting his eyes, blush across his face more than obvious, now bleeding into his neck; “Director.” “Y-You can’t be serious!” “Oh, darlin’,” you tsk’d, “rules are rules.” You pulled the knot of his tie to loosen it, but didn’t remove it, grinding yourself up between his thighs a little harder this time. “Y-Y/N! P-Please-!” Keller was more than likely asking you to stop; he’d got himself into this. “Oh no, baby boy…” You were working through his shirt buttons now, keeping your eye on his, now your teasing kisses refused to connect with his lips. So close and yet so far. “…you’re going to wait for me, do you understand?” “Yes.” “Good. You will only get what you want when I’m good and ready to give it.” As you worked his remaining buttons undone you took your sweet teasing time. Every so often you would let your fingertips or your nails graze against his bare skin. And that contact was driving him crazy. You had to stop yourself from giving him too much just to hear him moan like that again. “God, baby, you sound so beautiful.” You winked, smile and tone encouraging, “Let me hear you.” You didn’t need to ask now; Keller was working himself up as much as you’d already been doing. And you hadn’t even properly undressed him yet. You had barely even started with him, and you hoped he realised that. Or Keller was in for one hell of a wicked ride. Buttons run though and tie slacked you could feel the beat of his heart as you ran your hands over his skin; fingers splayed to give him as much skin to skin contact as he deserved. Keller wanted more than anything else in the world to pull you in and kiss you; all he wanted was your lips on his. Overpowering you would be easy - too easy, but that had never been the aim here. And he refused to call this a game. This wasn’t anything more than one part of your relationship. You deserved this, every bit as much as he wanted this. You hooked your fingers around his tie and pulled his body back to yours, arching into the curve of his. Whilst he wasn’t getting skin to skin contact yet, the feel of you pressed against him was enough to get him begging. With your lips inches from his you still weren’t affording him real kisses. And now, looking into your eyes, that was all Keller wanted. “Y/N… Please, please…” “Please what?” You teased, keeping him in place by his tie, but still teasingly running your fingers over his skin, “What is it darling?” “Kiss me, please!” “Oh, sweet thing,” You purred, with one short chaste kiss, “is that what you want?” Keller’s lips parted, but it took him a second, “…Y/N.” His voice was so close to a whine, so close, and you were ready to celebrate that, “Please.” You couldn’t help your teasing smile, but instead of kissing his lips you opted to plant them on his cheeks, his jawline, his temples and forehead. His eyes fluttered closed, but you knew it wasn’t even close to enough for him. He looked so desperate – but to keep that look on Keller’s face your only option was teasing him. When his eyes opened again you realised that there wasn’t anything in his body language that wasn’t begging you for this. “Please.” Keller took a breath, “Kiss me.” You unfurled his tie expertly with a swift pull and smirked gently, running your hands up his chest to push his shirt further back off his chest and with enough pressure to feel him tense under you, the erratic beat of his heart, and scraped your nails over his skin. His body gave a delightful shake and his eyes closed again; not for lack of trying. Probably just for focus. “Seen as you asked so nicely, Director.” This time you yanked him to your lips by his collar, hands through his hair as you pulled him flush to you. Keller’s hands stayed loose by his sides obediently but you knew he was itching to wind them around you. Even though you were still in charge, you allowed him to kiss you exactly how he wanted, and you opened your mouth invitingly for him. This was just a taste – and he didn’t know it yet, but it was still a tease. Your hands left his bare skin and you retracted that belt buckle, this time pushing the leather through the silver, knowing his sigh against your lips was just for the sound of the metal ringing through as it let go of the fastenings. His body shivered again as it rang clear; and yet, just like his clothing, you didn’t completely relieve him of it. Keller was having other problems of his own, however; you could feel him growing hard against you, even though every sound he made was an attempt to control that. You wanted to tell him not to – but you were sure in the end that would make things worse. Pulling back from him and away from the kiss he whined; exhale breathless as you ran your hands through his hair again. You were pretty sure Keller wasn’t about to turn a natural colour for at least the next few hours. “You look so good when you’re flustered,” You purred; and this time your hands teasingly ghosted his skin, “fuck, baby, you sound incredible when you whine like that.” Keller wasn’t impressed – and the blush across his cheeks this time was more annoyed embarrassment that he was letting you do this to him. Truth was, he still enjoyed it, and it wasn’t going outside of this room – let alone this house. This secret was your own; and it was an incredible one to keep. He expected you to grab him into another fiery kiss, grabbing fistfuls of his clothing before undressing him, maybe you’d keep kissing him then, push him back onto the bed – grind him slowly whilst you undressed yourself. Yes, that’d feel so good. Then, and only then, you’d let him touch you. But he’d more than make up for what you’d put him through. Instead of living out Keller’s fantasy the way it usually played out, this time you stepped back from him. His eyebrow raised in the confusion of something he didn’t expect and you held his gaze. You blinked slowly, and only once, before in dead seriousness you spoke. “Get on your knees.” Keller stood in silence for a moment like it hadn’t computed, making you reach out for him, caressing his cheek gently before holding his chin between your thumb and index finger – voice more commanding as you forced him into looking at you. "Get down on your knees like a good boy." He didn’t hesitate. Even though he was far from understanding of why you would ask such a thing his tall frame sank slowly down to the floor. Watching him look up at you like that was enough to drive you feral; the heavy rise and fall of his chest, the look he was giving you was more than just vulnerable. Like he was perhaps even a little afraid of what you might do to him whilst he was here. Keller had no advantage anymore – you’d just taken his height from him too. But the Director’s eyes were pleading with you to put him out of his misery - if only he knew it was about to get a lot worse before it got better. Thinking that he might actually obey you and sit still, you took further steps back from him, hands running to the buttons of your own shirt, you’d barely undone the first one before his eyes widened. Your Director couldn’t help himself; he was aching for you and you were about to deny him everything and be out of his reach?! Keller’s impulses had him ignoring everything you’d said and his hand shot out; “No!” You dropped your hands and regarded him with a shake of your head, and a tsk. “Now, now, Director, that’s not how a good boy behaves.” “I-!” “Hush, baby.” He dropped back, sitting back on his heels, hands resting on his thighs – although you could tell he was reigning in all his self-control by the white in his knuckles - at least Keller looked a little apologetic. You still weren’t about to let him get away with it; and your steely gaze let him know as such. “Hands and knees.” “Y/N-!” “One more word from you and I’ll have you turn around.” His entire face screamed protest at how unfair this was, and for half a second you thought he could well be capable of crying in frustration. But it didn’t happen. “Jonathan.” It was that use of his first name that made him submissive. Hands sliding down his suit pants to touch the floor, Keller’s head bent forwards. This time when you used the words good boy you watched the shudder of delight draw its way up its spine, and he couldn’t hold back his vocalisation. You ran your hands back to your shirt buttons and undid them as slowly as you had his own. Keller kept his eyes glued to the floor, and you wondered how much more agony this would be if the first thing you’d relieved him of would have been his glasses. His eyes didn’t wander – and he kept them almost too respectfully to the floor; you wondered if he thought you might punish him further if they did – but you were hardly going to be the one to deny that you wanted Keller’s eyes on you, even if he couldn’t touch you. It was the unzipping of your pants that got him, the sound made him squirm – eyes squeezing tightly shut again, you didn’t miss the rock of his hips as you shimmied out of your pants. This was as much agony for you, even if it was in a completely different way. You couldn’t wait for his hands to be all over you, Keller was sweet and gentle sure, but he knew exactly what he was doing – and damn if he wasn’t in tune with your body. Just thinking about that had you a little hot and bothered yourself. But you cooled down with a calm exhale. And you had nothing on the man on his knees, shaking in front of you. “Baby,” Your voice hit him like a sugar rush, “look at me.” His shoulders heaved and you almost thought that he’d ruin the fun by refusing. But Keller couldn’t - no matter that he knew that you would not allow him to touch you. Those gorgeous blue eyes raised to you as he pushed himself back up to kneeling. It took effort, and he was breathing a little too heavily. “Don’t worry, darling, if you’re a good boy I’ll be all yours soon enough.” “Mmm…” You weren’t sure that was an agreement. But you pulled your shirt from your shoulders to pool with your pants. Moving to stand in a way that perfectly flaunted your body as you pushed your bra straps from your shoulders, your occasional glances back to his eyes were both fleeting and teasing. Keller’s were – unsurprisingly – glued to your body. You bit your lip hard as you reached back and watched the way he swallowed hard at the snap. But you waited, just long enough for his eyes to desperately flick back to yours before you let that fall too. Giving him enough time to become even more painfully turned on by having to kneel on the other side of the bedroom to watch you do this. You were nearly surprised that his vocalisations didn’t sound as pained as Keller looked. You were sure it would happen before this night was through. You hooked your fingers underneath your panties and waited again. Keller’s body tensed, fingers digging into his legs as he leant forward – you were sure his reactions at this point were all involuntary. You pushed them slowly down over your hips before you stopped. A little but not nearly enough. This time when he whined it did sound desperate; and the tremble made itself known in his voice. “Y-Y/N…”  In fact now you didn’t think desperate was a fair word. That man was going to hurt himself – and it was going to start with making his lip bleed if Keller bit it any harder. “Baby,” You very nearly whispered it, voice soft and yet still sinful, “you’re being an awful good boy,” Keller didn’t even dare nod, but even his breathing was uneven. The Director was losing control. “I think you deserve a reward, don’t you?” He did nod this time, but he wasn’t meeting your eyes, his own vision downcast. “Good boy…” You smirked, beckoning, “Come here, it seems I need a little assistance.” Keller moved across the bedroom floor surprisingly gracefully but kept his body low, as on his knees as it was possible to be, until he was at your feet. He swallowed so hard it was audible, and as he raised his hands to touch your skin they visibly shook. Poor, sweet, baby boy… You very nearly pitied him, but if you showed that he’d immediately take as much control as he could from you. You weren’t about to allow that. He ran his hands from your calves up your thighs, fingers apart to touch as much of you as possible – the gentle pressure he applied as his brushed them over your skin allowed Keller a map of your structure. You wouldn’t be surprised if he knew your body off by heart, but committing you to his memory wasn’t good enough for the Director. You had to be a part of his soul too. He was delicate; as if getting to be this close to you – let alone touch you – was the highest honour. His hands paused just over where you’d left your underwear; framing your hips and he stilled – this was as much about your pleasure as his, after all, and Keller knew that an agonizingly slow pace would drive you wild. His fingertips exerted further pressure as he began dragging them back down your legs, catching the soft fabric he slid them down with relative ease. Keller was trying not to make noises this time, but you could feel how sporadic his hot breaths against your skin were and you smirked again, watching him pulled them all the way to the floor. Where he once again kept his eyes. You reached out, running your hand through his hair you caught his groan, before you grasped his chin between your thumb and forefinger and forced him to look back into your eyes. His intake of breath was sharp and he once again steadied himself. “You’re such a good boy,” You ran your thumb delicately over his lips and they parted for you, “prove it to me… beg for me.” His eyes flashed dark, and he knelt up, extending his height before placing his hands on your hips again, thumbs grazing your stomach. Keller’s gaze was locked with yours, and it didn’t leave. “Please, baby, please, let me touch you… You know I would do anything for you.” You ran your hand back to his hair, “Anything?” “Anything.” He affirmed, and there was something in his voice the touched your heart. This exchange had nothing to do with the situation you found yourselves in. You let him go, and Keller bit his lip once more; eager to please, but willing to wait for your go ahead. You gave him a wink, before you began smirking, “Touch me, Director, but do exactly as I say…” Keller gave a nod, and unironically thanked you. Because of the height Keller had placed himself at you knew that touching you wasn’t the only thing he was going to do. You’d permit him to do what he wanted – why shouldn’t you allow yourself such a pleasure? His kisses grazed your hips and your stomach, slow and gentle Keller worshiped your body. You ran you fingers back into his hair, and the scrape of your nails against his scalp was enough to have him sighing against your skin, shiver once again visible. As his kisses began to run lower his hands slipped from your hips to join them; your pull on his hair was simply a warning - not too fast, or I’ll stop you. Keller’s eyes raised back to yours before he pressed his lips to your skin one last time, fingers sliding tentatively into your folds he tested you. But he was the one out of the two of your groaning – you bit your lip if only to stop yourself from smirking so hard. Giving you pleasure gave him pleasure, and yet both of you were getting off on you being in control. His fingertips brushed your clit, and then you did sigh; “Good boy. Right there.” Although he didn’t leave them there very long, running them back Keller teased your entrance and as he did so, brought his tongue into play. You weren’t about to deny yourself the shudder of pleasure, or him the knowledge that what he was doing felt incredible as your nails dug into him; “Oh… Oh… that’s my good boy… yes, baby, just like that…” The tip of Keller’s tongue teased your clit in slow circles, enough for you to push your hips forward, craving more attention. Your hand rested on his shoulder, but your grip on him said you were still very much dominant. His fingers remained idle, and by now you were craving him. “Baby, give me more! And don’t you dare stop.” As he pushed his fingers slowly into you, your body responded immediately, muscles tightening around him. Keller very nearly lost it – his vocalised whine was really something else and it was enough to make you gasp. Was he about to cry over this? It certainly sounded like it. “Hush…” was as much comfort as you offered him, before groaning again as he moved his fingers slowly within you, “Yes baby…! More…!” Keller wasn’t sure what more he could possibly offer you, the taste of you was driving him insane. His body was doing all his screaming for him and if he was completely honest with himself, he just wanted you to grab him and fuck him in whatever way you deemed necessary (and it would certainly be you doing such a thing, he knew his place tonight). He wanted to beg you to do that, he wanted to beg to be inside you, and his pleasure and frustration all came out in the form of tears. Keller got reckless and emotional. Pulling his fingers from you – with a sharp gasp from you at the loss of him - Keller pushed your thighs wider, tongue moving to taste as much of you as he could. Fuck! He just felt so good – and you let him have his moment of complete abandon for that reason alone. But he wasn’t playing by the rules, and that meant teaching him another lesson. No matter how much your body wanted him. You yanked him roughly back by his tie – still strategically around his neck – and held him there. You weren’t sure that you could describe the look on his face as anything other than feral; changing very quickly to surprised. “What did I say?” “Y/N!” His exclamation of your name was painful – and suddenly you realised that there really were tears glistening on his cheeks, “Please! Baby, I’m begging you…! I need you so bad… I just need you so bad-! Please, do whatever you want with me, I-” He didn’t have time to finish his sentence as you pulled him to standing, but Keller was pretty incapable and staggered, supported only by your body as you kissed him – rough and merciless as his tie and waistcoat hit the floor, followed by his shirt and belt, you pulled his hips to yours as you ran through his button and zipper, but you did not let his lips leave yours. As his pants hit the floor you shoved him hard and Keller hit the sheets, breathless. Even more so as you clambered onto him to remove the final item. This was slower and move delicate, taking Keller’s glasses from his face you folded them and placed them on his bedside table, leaning in to kiss him a little gentler. “I love you, you know that, right?” His face was flushed once more, immediately submissive to whatever you would do you him next, as you straightened holding him underneath you. “Y-Yes, I know…” “Good boy.” You rolled your hips over his and his body immediately lurched in response, arching up to touch yours, his cry of pure ecstasy music to your ears. You smirked again, weight covering him to push him further into the bed, but dipped to continue your fiery trail of kisses; “Such a good boy…” *** His first movement was slow, but about all Keller could take, given the choked cry he let out. You placed your hands over his and rolled your hips again; “It’s okay, baby I’m here.” You continued your motions as his grip on you became stronger, “That’s it, good boy.” And Keller eventually held you to a nice rhythm that he responded to. “Y/N-” His body shuddered again, you tilted your head, “Say it, baby say it.” “Please, please I want more….” “You what? You want more?” “Just this once,” His breaths were shaky and his voice wavered enough for only half the words to be properly spoken, “let me say it… please!” You ground your hips into him harder and Keller elicited something between a groan and a growl, tipping his head back. Usually want would be followed up with a tease that want was not the word you wanted to hear…  ‘want’ would get him nowhere, except stalling what Keller was desperate for. Tonight he was losing control and if you stopped, he might not want you to continue. So you only continued to get rougher – and each time you did you buried him a little deeper inside of you, until he was hitting your sweet spot. “OH… baby…” This time you allowed yourself to truly vocalise your pleasure, “You feel so good.” “Mhm-!” That nod wasn’t in agreement, but solidarity. You did too – but your significant other was finding words a little difficult right now. The dig of his fingers into your skin likely to leave bruises – yet you couldn’t help but think about how good Keller’s hands felt on your either. You could feel every twitch and vibration of his body as you rode him and you were enjoying every second. If you could somehow make this last all night, that probably wouldn’t even have been enough. “Baby-!” Your breathing was aligned with his; the same panting – maybe not as heavy – your grind a little rougher this time had him reaching the very deepest part of you and your intake of breath was sharp; “Do you know what a good boy you are?” you panted again, “You deserve a reward, you deserve the biggest reward.” Keller only stared up at you obediently – all things considered he would think this was his reward. So whatever you were going to say would only be a bonus. “Cum for me, baby please… I need you to.” His lips parted again – and the Oh of realisation was lost in the OH! of intense pleasure as you managed to find another notch to push yourselves into. Keller’s vision was blurring and all he was aware of was blinding white light, the way you felt, and your voice. The searing heat that suddenly came to him was intense. “Y/N-!” “Yes-! Yes, that’s my good boy. That’s it-! OH-!!” His body arched and his hands pulled your body into his, needing desperately to feel all of you all over him. That skin to skin contact finally pushed him completely over the edge and you rode him out over his climax. Keller’s panting - everything from his breathing to his voice - sharp and he squeezed his eyes shut tight as he let you climax with a beautiful call of his name. He shook gently again as your heat mixed with his and your body trembled against his. You knew exactly what he needed right now, but you would leave him hanging for just a little while longer; you removed your body from his gently so as not to hurt him, but still sat across his hips, placing your hands over his chest to feel the beat of his heart. Keller placed his hands over yours, smile soft, blue eyes holding galaxies. “I love you.” You said it again, “Baby, did you enjoy that?” Keller nodded, and you loved how high his voice sounded, “Yeah…” “Yeah?” Your voice was soft, and you kissed his forehead gently, “Good boy.” It'd wear off, and by tomorrow morning your significant other would be your boss again, by this time next week he’d have probably put you back in your place because make no mistake, Keller was still the boss. Even if he was gentle and vanilla 90% of the time you weren’t doing this with him. You stretched your body out over his and drew him into your arms, kissing his cheek, nose and brow, before settling on the taste of his lips. You would hold him until he calmed down, until he asked you not to. But Keller wouldn’t, and you already knew that before his arms wound around you. “I love you too.” “Hmm?” “I love you… too…” His body shivered slightly in aftershocks, causing him to moan softly again before he yawned and settled his body into yours. You ran your fingers through his hair and smiled to yourself, “I heard you the first time,” then you grinned, “I just wanted to hear you say it twice.” He chuckled, closing his eyes, “Why, are there two of you I should be saying it to?” “Hmmm… maybe one day. We’re not ready for that conversation yet.” Though perhaps it was an exciting thought. “Oh.” His realisation was a little out, but you’d let Keller off considering what you’d just put him through. “…Yeah. A good conversation, for another time.” You kissed him once more, “Keller?” “Yes?” “Thank you.” His eyes opened slowly, and his eyebrow raised, “The pleasure is all mine. And, you’re the one looking after me.” “I know. But, you should know that I’m grateful for such opportunities.” “Silly girl…” He chuckled, pulling your body closer and running a hand through your hair, “Of course I do.” “I would do anything for you too.” “Shhh…” Although he smiled as he kissed your skin, “Now that’s just dangerous information.”

---

Thank you for reading! 😉😏✌

[racebox-of-higgars]

Forcing The Last Page

The third work in the current series I’m working on - The Unkindest Cut Of All. Please read the other parts first, otherwise this won’t make much sense.  

MAJOR SUICIDE TW - please stay safe and do not read if this could potentially be triggering for you. 

Summary: "Race closed the door behind him with a gentle click, leaning his back against it. His hands trembled and his breaths came in short, ragged bursts. His whole body shook violently as the tears he had spent so long holding back finally burst free, cascading down his face and carving paths into his skin. His nails pressed into his palms, forming small red dents in the pale skin. His fingers twisted in his hair and he pressed his face into his knees and completely fell apart."

The aftermath of Jack and Race's argument.Title from Turtles All The Way Down by Sammy Copley - loosely based on the same song. 

Link to AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31436591 

@angelslibrary 

Race closed the door behind him with a gentle click, leaning his back against it. His hands trembled and his breaths came in short, ragged bursts. His whole body shook violently as the tears he had spent so long holding back finally burst free, cascading down his face and carving paths into his skin. His nails pressed into his palms, forming small red dents in the pale skin. His fingers twisted in his hair and he pressed his face into his knees and completely fell apart.

Jack didn’t want him. Jack hated him.

He had looked up to Jack almost his entire life, and Jack hated him.

Down the hall, a door slammed.

Jack had known, of course he had. Jack knew everything about him, and saw in the way he had ducked his eyes, made himself as small as possible in every moment he could so he could slip by as inconspicuous as possible that he wasn’t well. It wasn’t like Race had a choice though. It was either hide it with bittersweet lies or tell the truth and let all of his burdens weigh down on Jack, and that he just couldn’t do.

He wiped his eyes with shaking hands, taking a deep breath as he slowly pulled out a notepad - the one Jack hand bought him with the tiny dinosaurs in the margin -  and a pen. If he was going to do this, he would do it properly. He would say his goodbyes.

He had no idea where to start.

There were a million things he wanted to say, but no right words to say them. There were thousands upon thousands of unsaid words that would stay unsaid forever now, because Race just didn’t know how to put them onto paper.

I hate you.

You’re my best friend.

You bring out the worst in me.

You are the best in me.

I need help.

I love you.

All things that would never be said.

Jack. I know that you’re angry with me at the moment, and probably will be forever, but I still had to say goodbye.

He finally put pen to paper, his writing almost trembling, hesitant as it appeared on the page. He couldn’t think of a single thing he wanted to say. The walls were closing in on him and everything was too hot, too much, and it was all too overwhelming and he couldn’t breathe.

Someone help me, I can’t breathe!

There are a million things I want to tell you, I should tell you, but there are no words to say them, so I’ll leave them unsaid and hope you know them anyway. I know that isn’t possible, but here we are. There is no right way to say goodbye.  

You have questions, so many questions and none of them have sensible answers, none of them have answers that I can rationalise, but I’ll try to answer them as best I can.

Race put the pen down, gasping for air as he clamped a hand over his mouth, trying to stifle his violent, unforgiving sobs that took everything from him and more. He could do this. How hard was saying goodbye, really?

He forced himself to put pen to paper.

The first question - why? The simplest answer is “I don’t know.” The long winded answer is difficult to explain but I’ll do my best.

It’s like I’m drowning. It sounds cliche, right? But things started going downhill just as college started, but you knew that. It was all too much at once and I didn’t know how to handle it. Suddenly I wasn’t the genius everyone expected me to be. My grades were dropping and for some reason I didn’t care. Everyone had expected so much of me, and I think I crumbled under the pressure. There’s a triumph in crashing down when you’re supposed to be soaring.

Race’s hand flew across the paper now, the words appearing in his mind and on the page almost simultaneously. There was so much in him that he needed out, and this was how he was going to do it. Jack deserved to know. He couldn’t leave without giving him that.

The second - why wasn’t I enough? Again, there is no simple answer. I don’t think anyone was enough. You were right when you said I didn’t want to be helped. By being helped, it meant I had to open up and tell you everything and submit to the mortifying idea of being known, of being seen for everything that I am, flaws and all, and just hope that you wouldn’t leave. I was too afraid to tell you everything, so I told you nothing.

Race regretted not talking to Jack. Well, not really. He regretted what that had led to. The endless fights, the screaming, the hurled insults, the rift between them that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t close. There was nothing he could do now to fix the damage that he had done.

All I really have to say is I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry for the way things ended, I’m sorry for tearing us apart, I’m sorry for ruining our family. But most of all, I’m sorry I was never a better brother to you. I’m sorry if I made you feel like you were a bad brother to me - you weren’t. I couldn’t have asked for someone better. Please, don’t feel like this is your fault, it’s not. This is just my time to go. There’s nothing you or anyone can do to change that. You can't try to change that. I'm sorry for that.

Race’s tears flowed freely now, he stopped trying to stifle them. uncontrollable, wrenching sobs wracked his body, each one forcing him to gasp for air, but he didn't stop now. An overwhelming sense of desperation crashed over him in waves as he finally put all of his thoughts onto paper. Everything he had been holding in for months now was forcing its way out of him, as if it knew that this was its last chance to.

I know it sounds hard, but I want you to be happy. You have a good life ahead of you, Jack, don't waste it on me. If you don't go to that art school in Santa Fe I will haunt your ass. I don't want you to throw everything away because of me. You're worth more than that.

Race had to force that page. He knew it was all bullshit, a meagre attempt to try to lessen the blow, all of it some mandatory ritual that held no meaning, no purpose. None of it made sense. He tried to inject some humour into it to try to take away from the crushing reality of what was about to happen, but he knew it wouldn't work.

So, I suppose I should end this with a goodbye. An apology and a goodbye.

So I’m sorry for everything, both what we've been through and what you will go through. I love you, no matter how upset I may have been at times. I’ll never stop loving you.

I want you to have Jackie. He comforted me in the worst times, maybe he’ll help you too.

Your friend. No.

Your best friend. No.

Your brother.

Racetrack.

He hastily tore the page from his notebook and set it on the desk. Beside it, he set the worn, ragged stuffed dinosaur, with the word Jackie scrawled under the left foot in smudged blank ink. He pulled out his favourite jacket, an old blue denim one covered in pride pins, so it was more metal than fabric. He started to pull it on, but then he stopped, glancing briefly at his phone as it lit up with a notification.

Spot: Are you able to call tonight? I wanna tell you something.

Behind the message was a photo of him and Spot, with Spot pressing a kiss to his cheek as he laughed, eyes crinkling with his smile. Race couldn't remember being that person, but he couldn't help the tiny smile that tugged at the corner of his lips.

You: Sorry, I can't tonight. Had a lot on my plate with studying, and don't feel great so I’m gonna get some sleep. Tell me tomorrow?

Spot: Of course. Goodnight, Racer

You: Goodnight Spot, you can sleep now

“You can sleep now.” That was tradition between them now.  It had started when they had first hit together a year ago. Instead of “I love you,” before falling asleep, Race would say, “you can sleep now.” Spot hadn't been ready to take that step yet, so Race worked around it, and it had stuck.

Race couldn't go without saying goodbye to Spot. He pulled his notebook open again and scribbled another note, more calmly this time, less frantic. He folded the jacket and set it beside Jackie, then set the note on top.

He glanced around the room, going over the million memories he had here. Most of them were good, but more recently they had been tinted black and red and he couldn't break through that to see the good ones on the other side. It just got darker and darker and darker with no sign of light. He walked alone in that darkness, he was the only one who seemed to be able to navigate it. In his darkness, only the blind could see, and he was blind - blind to everything around him trying to help, blind to the hands reaching for him to pull him back to the light. He couldn’t see them.

He pushed the window open, relishing the way the wind whipped his hair. Slowly, he climbed out, and took off into the darkness of night, shrouded by the cover of woodland.

Finally, Jack was able to calm himself down. He thought over their argument, and felt sick as he thought about all the things he had said to Race. Race didn't deserve any of that, and none of it was true. He had said cruel things in the heat of the argument, and he wanted nothing more than to take them all back. He had to make everything right.

He gently knocked on Race’s door, frowning when he didn't receive an answer. He supposed it was to be expected, but it didn't mean he had to like it. He knocked again, louder, but he still got no answer. Then the worry started to settle in, just the feeling of something being slightly wrong . It made Jack feel sick.

“Racer, I’m coming in, okay?” Again, silence on the other side. Slowly, Jack pushed the door open.

A cold breeze blew in through the open window. Why did Race have his window open in November? Then he realised that Race wasn’t there . He glanced around, his eyes falling upon the stuffed dinosaur on the small desk tucked into the corner, and his heart sank.

He picked up the note with trembling hands.

He read the first few lines, before it slipped from his shaking fingers to the floor.

His knees buckled, and he felt himself tear in two, but he wasn't truly there.

Everything came crashing down around him and the world was spinning all too fast, too much at once and nothing stopped and nothing let up and everything was so, so wrong and nothing could fix it.

Race was gone, and he couldn’t fix it.

[whump-town]

Shattered Hearts, Fractured Lungs

(Chapter Two; Warnings for: school shooting, violence, language, and heart failure; you can find the first chapter here)

Emily Prentiss just wants to do her job but a messy case sends her sprawling into the arms of a dying man with a toddler and his weird, broken family.

“It’s been very rare to have known you, very strange and wonderful” --F. Scott Fitzgerald

She comes back the very next day.

It’s about noon and she’d seen the blonde one-- the happy one, uhm… Penelope! Emily had watched Penelope pull up in the driveway at about eleven thirty. So, she knows someone’s home over there but when she steps out on her porch she’s not expecting him to be sitting in that rickety old rocking chair. 

Idiot-- because she’d seen, from her kitchen window, Penelope helping him outside. The woman was talking his poor ear off.

The icing on the cake, of course, is that she was creating a dialogue for what to say when she got over there. 

Out loud.

So, he definitely heard her talking to herself like a crazy person. 

“Hey,” she says lamely, stopping in her tracks. Now she’s in a really bad spot. He looks like he didn’t sleep last night and definitely not in a talking mood with the oxygen mask over his face. 

Of course, she can’t really know that he didn’t sleep last night. Spent the whole night breathlessly fighting with Dave over his own health and how he was feeling. Of course, like shit is the truth but he’s fighting the clock and he doesn’t want to go to the hospital over a little labored breathing. Now he’s paying the price. He couldn’t even stand on his own this morning. He’d laid in bed until Garcia got here and been forced to ask her to help.

Life is slowly becoming unbearable. 

“I need...” she blows out an unsteady breath. She has to clench her hands to stop them from trembling.  “Do you have any bananas?”

Idiot. 

Stupid fucking idiot.

But he nods. It takes him a moment but he reaches up and pulls the mask off his face, pinning it against his chest. “Just go…” he curses himself, mentally for his inability to do something as simple as breathing. Why should heart failure come with not only a permanent ache in his chest but also the double hit to the lungs? Anatomy is so stupid.

“Ask Pen,” he rasps, gesturing with a head tilt that he means for her to go inside. “She’ll get you one.” He knows there’s bananas in there because Garcia always brings him some from the store. He used to eat one every morning with his coffee. Now he can’t even stomach the thought. 

Insult to injury is the awkward silence that passes between them as Emily steps into his house. 

She comes out a moment later, Penelope trailing her. She shows him the bananas from last week. They’re pretty brown but she’s smiling. “Actually,” Emily says, stepping out and smiling between Garcia and Hotch, “the recipes Derek’s mom’s. She, uh, sent it my way to keep me from getting bored.”

Garcia nods and Hotch rolls his eyes fondly. He’d spent the last half an hour listening to Garcia go on and on about Emily’s sexy little partner Derek Morgan. And, as insufferable as it had been, he had seen the signals the two of them were sharing. The good thing is that he was visibly not the only person unsettled by Garcia and Morgan’s flirting.

Reid really hated it. 

“She’s making banana bread,” Garcia tells Hotch, bumping her hip against him. 

Emily blushes, “yeah but…” She twists her shoe uncomfortably in the dirt. “I’m not that great of a baker.”

Garcia shakes her head, “don’t be so hard on yourself! I’m sure it’ll be great.” She grins, “besides if you need any help Hotch and I are more than willing to be unbiased judges or helpers.”

Emily could laugh at the face Hotch makes. He most certainly does not want that. She shakes her head, “I’m gonna go throw these in. If they’re good, I’ll send you a piece?”

Garcia nods and they watch in silence as Emily goes back to the house. 

The banana bread must not turn out so great because she never brings a piece over but the next day she knocks on his door with a plate of pancakes. 

He’s in a sweatshirt-- Georgetown’s logo slapped on the front and worn with age-- and a pair of grey sweats that make her cheeks flush a little. Nice, idiot, she thinks as she explains she used the leftover bananas to make pancakes and wondered if he’d like some. Mercifully, he either ignores or doesn’t see her making intense eye contact with the floor so she doesn’t look anywhere near his hips. 

After that, they form a strange pattern of her showing up with various baked goods or other types of gifts and such. 

Otherwise, they’d both sit in their homes all alone with nothing but the silence. Or, rather, he’d have the silence because she is very loud. He likes to sit on the porch and listen to her blasting music through her house. Occasionally, he knows a song but mostly he just likes the way the rest of the neighborhood scowls at their houses. 

It’s about nine in the morning when Hotch hears the knocking at his door. For a solid moment, he considers not even answering the door. There’s about a ninety percent chance whoever it is he doesn’t want to talk to. The number of people who have sent cards, and food, and made weird phone calls is numerous. So, if they don’t have the key to his front door or the familiarity to just come busting in-- it’s not worth his time.

Besides, he’s feeling grumpy and he’d like to just wallow for a moment… in peace, alone. 

But then the door does bust open. 

He’s trying to read the paperwork either the hospital or the school sent-- obviously, he hasn’t gotten very far into it if he can’t even tell what the papers are for. All that he knows is there are vibrantly colored sticky notes where his signature should be. But he isn’t just going to go singing his name willy-nilly. He’s not that far gone. 

He looks up and Emily Prentiss is blindly-- her hands are over her eyes for some reason-- trampling through his living room.

“Can I help you?”

At the sound of his voice, her head jerks up. Two paired fingers separate and she looks just like one of his students as she lowers her hands and grins at him. It’s an awkward little grin but it’s not bad. “Uh,” she motions behind her to the door. “Sorry about that… Dave, he, uh, he told me that you’d be home all day and you are home all day and if I needed anything to just--” she grimaces as if she’s just considered how strange this is. “You didn’t answer and Dave said you always answer and you do and I didn’t want something to be wrong…”

She stops talking. 

Mercifully.

Hotch grunts, “I do, normally.” 

Somehow, the only good thing to come out of the last month is that Hotch gets to spend his days at home. Besides the drastic rise in homeschoolers in their town, the school had been gracious enough to handle his disability checks. Of course, everyone had smiled and thanked him for what he’d done to save his kids but Hotch is still very aware of the lawsuits and trouble David Rossi would cause if everything hadn’t gone smoothly. 

Being the semi-famous author of a very successful line of children’s books earns Dave that power. Although, Hotch has seen him use it for good and for… well, mostly sex. 

The downside is he gets pretty lonely at the house.  

Jack goes to his aunts. Haley’s sister Jessica has been a huge help over the last few weeks. Reeling from the loss of her sister, she’d been more than happy to keep her only family close. Even if it’s just her ex-brother-in-law and nephew. Not that Aaron and Jessica’s relationship was severed just because of Haley and Aaron’s divorce. 

It had been painful but not ugly. It had never been about the devotion they felt for one another or even the love.

Life just gets complicated. 

A few teachers had still managed to get some more leave time and with Hotch’s heart actively failing, Reid, Garcia, and Rossi are on the receiving end of lots of understanding when it comes to asking for time off. They have a schedule set into place now: Garcia brings him lunch, Reid picks up Jack, and Dave brings stuff to make dinner for all of them. 

It’s simple but affected. Daily and boring.

“Now this is going to make me sound like a dumbass--” 

He’s known Emily Prentiss for all of week. He excludes the school thing from memory and the timeline. It’s better for his mental health-- which isn’t doing much better than his physical health if he’s being honest. The problem is, the woman is kind of crazy. It’s in an endearing kind of way but still. 

Now he’s sitting in her living room. She’d come barging into his house just thirty minutes before, a hand over her eyes. He’d had to listen to her awful explanation for that while slowly and painfully making his way across the whole five feet separating their houses. The hand over her eyes had been in case he was naked because she may invade his personal space but she really doesn’t want to see his junk. 

He’s not entirely sure where this comfort of hers is coming from. All he does know is that Dave has swindled his way into every aspect of Hotch’s life and now Hotch has his neighbor’s phone number. It’s for “emergencies”, of course. In case Hotch, God forbid, needs help and his only contact is his batshit neighbor.

“I mean it, Aaron,” she’s standing right in front of him with two spices in her hands. “It’s really going to make me sound like a dumbass here but what exactly is the difference between Cinnamon and Nutmeg?”

God, she’s crazy but she’s funny and hasn’t passed any judgement on his inability to get dressed. Just like now while she’s standing in a simple, well-loved tanktop and work jeans and he sits in his flannel pajama bottoms and a Hanes t-shirt that’s seen better days five years ago. 

But they kind of passed lots of mile markers for judgment a long time ago. As in, last week. 

He’d watched in silence as she emptied the contents of her stomach over the railing of his porch and she’d put pressure on the bullet wound that tore through his side. It’s why it was so easy for her to, after that night on the porch, to bring over a plate of pancakes and offer to grab him stuff from the store. Of course, he’d told her he was good and he, mostly, was.

Which is in direct consequence for why he’s here now. 

“Nutmeg tastes like Christmas,” he explains because he has no idea how he’s supposed to explain this to a grown woman. “What are you making?” He’s suddenly very worried for whatever dish she’s making. Especially if she put nutmeg where cinnamon is supposed to be. It’s freaking September and, if he’s being honest, he really hates Christmas. That might make him too biased to figure out if she’s really messed up though.

She grimaces at the containers in her hand. She pulls her lip into her mouth and mumbles, “apple pie.”

His grimace is too much and if she weren’t so bummed with the aspect that her apple pie is most definitely ruined she might laugh. His accent is thick enough for her to comfortably assume he’s from the south not to mention he’s got a lot of that southern gentlemen charm. 

“How much nutmeg did you use?”

Her face says it all.

He places both his fist on the sides of the chair and forces himself onto his feet. If Emily weren’t standing in silent horror that he might fall over or pass out or a hundred other things she might lend a hand. Then again, they haven’t established those boundaries and she can’t flawlessly just know like Dave does. 

“Let me see the damage,” he grumbles but she can see that he’s not actually mad; he's just wary of what she’s done. He’s strange in that way. For a man who has made a career around working with children, he’s got a horrible resting face. 

She lets him set the place, pointing him in the direction of the kitchen. It’s only a few feet but they make it two-steps before she decides she can’t do this silently watching thing. “Do you--” she offers him her forearm, the same way she’d seen Dave do the other afternoon. 

He scowls at her arm but after a moment, he takes her hand. His skin is startlingly cold and his hand trembles until he settles his grip. It’s surprisingly easy and she doesn’t think much of it. At least he’s not dead weight to lug around. She’s had plenty of people hang onto her, she doesn’t even mind this. 

“I think I might have used too much nutmeg,” she concludes before he can see the damage and rule her incompetant. It’s a warning.

He glances at her out of the corner of his eye… too late for the incompetant thing, she decides. He already thinks she’s a moron.

Rightfully so but still…

She’d known he was tall. It’s not that hard to see but as she’s standing beside him, his body pulled in and hunched over, he’s still towering over quite a bit. He’s a big man and he smells nice so he’s got a lot going for him. Too bad about the heart thing because he’s kinda cute.

“That’s all…” she moves him to the kitchen table and brings the pie to him. She really doesn’t want him falling in her kitchen. Dave likes her and she’d like to keep it that way. Besides, there would be so many awful and weird questions to answer if she had to take him to the hospital. 

And now he’s sitting in horror at this pie in front of him.

“That’s all…” he repeats himself, shaking his head in disbelief. The pie is covered in a brown powder and he’s slowly processing that it’s all nutmeg.

She grimaces and nods.

He looks up at her, mouth open but disbelief making it impossible for him to say anything. He’s seen a lot of weird things. Preschoolers are… they’re a piece of work but this is testing every bit of training he has. 

“It’s bad, isn’t it?”

He nods, “definitely.” 

Huffing in a way that he recognizes from dealing with one too many headstrong four-year-olds, she places her fist on her hips. She scowls down at the pie. It’s cooked and it smells okay but if she’s been too generous with the nutmeg there’s no way that’s going to taste good. After a moment she hums and turns around, pulling out two forks she comes right back to the table. 

“Well,” she says with a tilt of her head, “christmas apples can’t be that bad, right?”

He takes the fork being offered to him with no interest whatsoever in eating this pie but it's kind of funny and he’s having a good time. Together they break the baked dough and get a bite- sized piece. He’s fairly adamant but somehow it’s got nothing to do with his tricky stomach or the fact that he hasn’t been able to keep down much besides water and saltine crackers. It’s going to taste like shit and it’s exciting.

Emily chokes on her bite coughing and grimacing as she rushes to spit it out. To his credit, Hotch swallows his bite. “That was honestly the worst apple pie I’ve ever tasted,” he tells her, honestly. 

She laughs and that feels so good. She hasn’t laughed in a long time. 

He shrugs, “I’m not gonna lie to you.”

She tosses her fork on the table and shakes her head at the pie. So much for that.

“How exactly--” he bites down on the wave of pain that rocks through his body as he forces his legs underneath him. He stands, trembling and waving slightly with the effort it takes. “Why were you making apple pie so early in the day?”

Emily is still frowning at the pie so she doesn’t even look up at him. “Bored,” she mumbles. She’s upset about her pie. Damn… this whole nutmeg vs cinnamon thing is stupid. They look exactly the same so they should taste the same, right?

“Maybe you should try something else,” Hotch says, one hand still keeping his balance on the table. “Baking just doesn’t…”

Emily frowns at him, “I like baking, though!”

Hotch looks away, tilting his head and raising an eyebrow. “Baking doesn’t like you,” he mumbles. 

She smacks his shoulder and he chuckles-- this isn’t the first failed attempt of her’s he’s tried. There was the cookies from Monday (that were burnt on the bottom and raw on top) and the banana bread he’d only seen but-- they could have killed a lesser man let alone him and his broken heart. 

“Maybe I can try cooking,” she proposes. 

He shakes his head, “are you gonna make me eat that too?”

She clicks her tongue, faking offense. “What, are you afraid?”

He smiles and it takes her breath away. He’s got high, sharp cheekbones and when he’s not carrying so much tension in his shoulders it’s so much easier to appreciate just how soft his dark hair looks. Her neighbor is hot. She’s not sure if he knows that though.

“A little,” he admits playfully, “but maybe you’ll be better at cooking than you are baking.”

She crosses her arms and scowls down at her pie. “I don’t think it’s going to take a lot to be better at cooking than baking.” 

He makes a soft sound, “you said it, not me.”

She shakes her head at him but there he is smiling again. She can’t even be mad. “Maybe I’ll make dinner,” she proposes, tucking her hands under her armpits as she thinks. “Are you interested?”

Honestly, no but he doesn’t want to pass up on hanging out with her. So he nods. 

“Six o’clock should be enough time to cook something, right?”

Jesus, she’s going to kill him. 

“Why don’t I come over and help?”

Oh, she hadn’t thought of that. She nods, “okay. You wanna come over at three, then?”

It’s dangerous, without a shred of doubt there, but his heart does this little flutter. “Uh,” he has to clear his throat. “Yeah, sounds like a plan.”

Except three rolls around he’s a no show. Three turns into three-thirty and she’s not trying to be a buzzkill but the recipe calls for caramelized onions and she has no idea what that means but she hopes it doesn’t mean what she thinks it does. Carmel on onions? Sounds disgusting.

“Knock, knock?” She’s already barged into his house once today so it really shouldn’t be that big of a deal but something doesn’t feel right. She can’t shake it and she certainly can’t just… leave. “Hotch?” God, she hopes he’s just in the bathroom.

He isn’t.

“You okay?” she falls to her knees beside him. She’d never been this far into his house. Mostly, she’d never passed the living room but now she’s kneeling in his hallway and can see his bedroom from here. As much as she’d like to evaluate that-- because the space is strangely neat and God, who knew the bare minimum of a clean room was such a perfect green flag--

Right--

He shakes his head. 

Oh.

“Should…” she knows he hates the hospital, who doesn’t? But… he’s gasping for breath on the floor, his pale hand clutching at his chest. The sight is very overwhelming and hurting her deeply because it’s bringing feelings back that she thought were getting better. “Do I need to call--”

To the school and to the blood pooling between their bodies. 

He nods. He’s terrified but just seeing Emily brings some strange comfort. Her and her awful cooking might just get him through this. He won’t die on this floor. Not on this ugly ass rug Dave made him put down. 

The ambulance comes, bounding the sirens shrill sound up and down the block. Making a spectacle out of an awful experience. 

He winces when the IV goes in and she just stands, bouncing from foot-to-foot awkwardly watching. It’s not until he’s on the gurney, fighting the drugs rushing through his system. “You can come,” he rasps but no one can hear him clearly from behind the masks. Reaching up to pull it away, several hands swat his hand away and he makes a grunted, annoyed sound at hte back fo his throat.

An EMT leans over and calms him back down before Hotch starts trying to fight his way back up into danger. “Easy, buddy.” The EMT pushes on Hotch’s shoulders and it's not a lot of force but Hotch isn’t strong enough to fight it. “The pretty lady can come, okay? Just settle down.”

She stays with him and tells herself it’s because she doesn’t want him hurting himself but she really doesn’t want to leave his side until she knows he’s going to be okay. There’s no hand holding because they’re still at the point where they smack shoulders and stand feet apart but they’ve only known one another for a week and-- Emily can’t fathom what she’s supposed to do if he dies in the back of this shitty ambulance. 

“Can you--” the EMTs give him something that nearly knocks him out on the spot but his breathing gets better and he stops gasping and wheezing. He just lays supine on the gurney. Limp. “Dave?” He can’t keep his eyes open but he hears Emily make what he thinks are words of confirmation but his sentence didn't exactly make sense so maybe she didn't understand him.

He’s pulled under by the warmth spreading through his limbs before he can repeat himself or worry with it.

“You can’t go back there, baby.”

Emily blinks and there’s an older woman stopping Emily’s zombie-like march beside the gurney as they rush Hotch off to the side. She can’t tear her eyes off of him. Watching numbly as they cut his shirt down the middle and start to attach to electrodes to his alarmingly pale chest. 

Her hands are trembling as she pulls her phone out of her pocket. “Dave?” she’s breathless with the anxiety swelling in her own chest. “I’m so sorry--” and she’s crying. Why? He’s not her friend? He’s her neighbor who she’s known for a whole freaking week and yet-- And she can’t deal with Dave being mad either. But he isn’t. 

The minute he steps into the hospital, he comes right up to and pulls her into a hug. She sobs into his arms and he lets her because he’s seen Aaron this bad before. He knows it’s unnerving. 

“Do you have any news?” Dave asks her and she shakes her head. He squeezes her arm and smiles at her tear-stained face. “I’ll be right back, okay? They know my face, I might be able to wrangle some news out of one of the nurses.”

She nods her head and watches dejectedly as he walks away. 

Aaron had told her that Rossi had slept with many nurses while he was in the hospital. She’s thinking about the way he’d smiled when he told her that when she falls into the waiting rooms stiff chairs.

[darkhorse-javert]

Re the November prompts: 27 or 28? (This is probably too late for Thirsty Thursday — six-hour time difference.)

,Here you go @paulinedorchester, a Friday-morning written treat.

Drawing mostly I think from ‘27.A poem is a private story, after all, no matter how apparently public. The reader is always overhearing a confession. ‘

Post-war Oxford, October 1946

Sam rested soundly next to him, curled under the coverlet and blanket. But even seeing her peaceful beside him, Andrew found no rest. Though it wasn’t thinking anything clear, his mind would not quiet. With a sigh he rolled away and slipped out from under the covers on his side, hastily turning and carefully tucking them down around her. Driven He padded to the desk, and sat down, lighting the lamp low, placing it so he could see but it wouldn't disturb her.

His fingers found the pen, a random piece of paper, and the rattle in his head coalesced into words which tried to tumble onto the page faster than he could legible write. He let them pour out in the ink, everything...

The light fuzzed, the words blurred and he scrubbed his free hand over his eyes, gaining a breif moment of clarity.

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

The page was full of black ink words, and he was suddenly aware of chill, how dark it was outside the little circle of lamplight.

A small mewing sound, he glanced over his shoulder to see Sam rolling over, blearily half raising her head as she touched his empty spot on the bed, barely awake, mostly asleep.

“-rew?”

He blew out the lamp, padding back in the half light of street lamps and moon, slipping back in beside her, stroking her hair lightly.

“sussh.”

She settled, her breathing evening out again. He settled the covers around them, burrowing into the echo of warmth he had left there before. And now, as fast as it had been illusive, sleep swept over him.

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

Oh Oxford, place unchanging,

Though the years and their cares roll by,

And so I still expect to see you in the corner of the quad,

Expounding forth as was your wont,

But you are not.

And that is J's coat tail,

Flapping as he, late, dashes up the stair,

No one there…

Or as I'm walking in the street 

Surely that is good old V-

With sky blue blazer and wild curls

Which never slicked down

Indeed, yet not...

Just some young scrap who looks so like,

Close but miles afar,

There is Tagger still here and now

But no more he'll run the ball

And catch it just inside the bounds

To make the watchers roar.

Though feet were fleet when playing away

The rules had changed, and balls bit hard.

And these new faces in the halls,

Small and fresh and bright and YOUNG

Surely we were never thus

Though I dimly think we were,

It seems an eon  gone.

Our city haunts ring to different laughter now

Or else don't ring at all.

And twixt and tween the word goes round

Of ‘where’ and ‘when’ and ‘who’.

They say ‘you can't go home again’

Yet Oxford hasn't changed at all, 

The stones and mortar stand

As always they did before

Thus you ought to be there too,

Surely, says my mind.

But you are not, (yet you are)

And I caught between,

What is, and what should be.

She swallowed the lump in her throat as the page swam in front of her eyes and then she blinked rapidly before her tears splattered the ink, blinking rapidly to clear her vision. The raw confusion, pain of loss, Andrew’s quick turns in corners, eyes lighting then dulling.

His steps behind her and she quickly put the paper down on the desk where it had sat. His face was carefully blank, except for his eyes as she turned and looked at him, but she couldn’t school her own expression to such neutrality. That, that was something she shouldn’t have read, she realised, something for Andrew alone.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have...”

“It’s alright.” His voice was soft “You can read any of my scribblings you like.”

She steadied her voice, moving out of his way to the desk “When did you write that?.”

Passed her and bent over it, sorting through the papers, “Last night, couldn’t sleep... everything... just... round and round��.

Instictively she reached out and put her hand on his arm. He went still, but as if bracing himself against himself, not in reaction against her touch.

“Couldn’t write...” He swallowed audibly “About the Squadron... the names.” He shook his head, words trailing off. Then he took a breath “Wanted to but...” His shoulders rose and fell in a desperate shrug.

The names on the wall. They’d found them on a brass plaque pinned to one of the college walls, the men of the University Air Squadron lost in action. Andrew had known, knew most of them. She put more pressure into her hand, and he turned towards her, holding the paper

“Not really much is it, a few waffling words on the back of lecture notes.” He looked bleak, trying to joke but failing, “Doesn’t even make sense

Still hurting, lost again. “Andrew... you don’t know what you’ve written there.” How on earth could she still be managing full sentences, her throat was so tight and her eyes were pricking “It’s beautiful... It says everything you’re feeling ... and I’m so sorry you feel like that.”

The smile was warmer this time “At least I’ve got you, Sam. And writing it, helped a bit. Gave it a substance, not just ghosts and echoes in my own head.” He huffed “I know five years have gone by so I don’t know why I keep expecting it to be the same.”

“Because it made a mark on you before.  There’s nothing wrong with feeling like that. You are right, everything’s changed, and yet nothing’s changed, and you’ve changed, you’ve seen war... That poem, Andrew it makes sense to me.“ She looked at him eye to eye “It’s alright...” She paused “And for what it’s worth, I’m here.”

He looked at her with fondness in his eyes, “Thank you Sam.”

[summersubin]

tutoring sessions

- yeonjun x taehyun

- 2.5k

- yeonjun doesn’t like that his new tutor is younger than him but he really can’t fail this class. besides, the sophomore is really pretty. he can’t stay mad at him for long. (cr: taejunaus on twitter for the prompt!!)

- a/n: i wrote this a while ago but didn’t get around to posting it here~ this is on my ao3 summersubin and i also posted it on my twitter hyukasnose!! please check out taejunaus on twitter, their aus are really good and i enjoy reading them a lot <3

~

TUTORING SESSIONS, read the pink flyer pinned to the announcement board in the school hallway. it fluttered with the breeze of students passing by in a hurry on the way to their next class. yeonjun, however, stood perfectly still, his school books in his arms, and stared at the innocent flyer with a conflicted expression on his face. his books lay heavy in his arms.

he never wanted to admit it to himself, but he needed a tutor. it wasn’t that he didn’t try hard, but the work in his classes just seemed to pile up so quickly on top of him that he was becoming worried he would never escape from underneath it. he felt the pressure of a million assignments weighing on his chest, and with all of his work to do, he was falling behind with learning the new material in his courses.

so, begrudgingly and with narrowed eyes, yeonjun reached out his hand, shuffling his school books into the crook of his other arm, and ripped one of the slips of paper with a phone number scrawled on it from the flyer. he slipped it in his pocket, and then decided to make his escape, hoping nobody had witnessed him. he turned, ducked his head, and walked quickly along with the other students, easily blending in with the crowd.

`

later, when school was over for the day, yeonjun pulled out his phone and the tiny slip of paper came with it. he almost dropped it by accident, its pink color catching his eye. he was on the bus now, and as he was sitting in his seat he placed his phone on one leg and the phone number on the other. he hesitated for a few moments, feeling like an idiot as the bus jostled him around in his seat, going over bumps in the road. finally, he rolled his eyes and picked up his phone in his hands, quickly typing up a text to the number listed from the flyer and sending it before he could talk himself out of it. he would call, but he was feeling far too self conscious already, and he didn’t need a whole bus of people listening in on his conversation.

yeonjun repeatedly glanced at his phone anxiously, and found a reply from the owner of the flyer coming through in a matter of seconds. so taehyun is his name, yeonjun thought after his new tutor introduced himself. he sounds nice enough. and he was nice, speaking to yeonjun in possibly a more formal tone than he expected, but he was fine with that, as long as it wasn’t overbearing when they were finally face to face.

they agreed to meet later that afternoon in a local cafe. bring some money if you want to. i always find coffee keeps me motivated to work, taehyun had said. the wifi is a bonus, too. yeonjun laughed at that. taehyun told him to bring his own supplies, which yeonjun was already pretty much expecting. it wasn’t like the flyer had specified exactly what kind of tutoring taehyun was offering, so he just assumed taehyun would be on board for whatever. it was funny, yeonjun thought, that he couldn’t seem to remember anybody by the name of taehyun in his class.

`

when yeonjun walked in the front door of the cafe, he was greeted by a warm gust of air that smelled of coffee and bread. he carried his schoolbooks against his chest, the weight feeling familiar in his arms. taehyun said he would be in one of the booths, so yeonjun didn’t worry too much about not being able to find him. he figured he would know him when he saw him. for a school night, the place seemed to be unusually busy. a low hum of voices filled the air and bounced off the well decorated walls, a gentle yellow glow from the lighting casting itself on the customers.

biology, he desperately needed help in biology. he could never seem to cram all the vocabulary into his brain and keep it there. it liked to ooze out like goo, and yeonjun wished he could pack it all together in there and secure it with duct tape. math, too. the formulas always ended up confusing him, and the second he thought he got it completely, he would move on to solve the next problem and find himself completely and utterly lost. he mulled over these things in his mind as he walked through the cafe, knowing he would probably have to explain them to taehyun if he wanted any help.

yeonjun was walking past the booths that sat just beside a giant wall of glass, passing each one booth by booth and wondering if he had arrived too early for their meet up. and then he stopped in his tracks. in front of him was a boy sitting in a booth only a few feet away from him. he was hunched over in his seat as he scrawled something into a little notebook on the table in front of him. the seat opposite of him was empty, yeonjun noted when he glanced at it. this is… taehyun? yeonjun thought, feet freezing into the ground.

his hair was caramel brown, not quite long enough to fall over his eyes but enough that it just brushed his eyebrows. the warm lighting complemented his honey tanned skin, and he held his pen between his fingers delicately as he wrote. he was in a cream colored shirt, and subtly something in the back of yeonjun’s mind flickered with the thought of how good it looked on him, how well he seemed to blend into the warm atmosphere of the cafe. the thing was, though, that by the looks of taehyun, he couldn’t have been any older than yeonjun. in fact, he had a younger look to him. upon thinking this, yeonjun had the realization that the reason why he couldn’t place taehyun in his mind earlier was because he wasn’t from his class. he was almost certainly a year younger, if not two, and this thought alone made yeonjun consider turning back and going home, pretending as if he had never arrived. being tutored by a sophomore… yeonjun thought, and nearly winced at the idea. he had gotten himself this far, but he didn’t know if he would be able to take another blow to his pride like that. however, just as yeonjun was raising his foot from the ground to turn around, the head of caramel hair in front of him suddenly raised up, and he was caught in the stare of big, round, captivating brown eyes.

taehyun gave him a once-over, taking in the sight of yeonjun’s schoolbooks and setting his pen down gently. he sat himself up in his seat, and then settled himself, closing his notebook shut.

“you’re here for the tutoring, right?” he asked, and yeonjun felt something strange twinge inside of him at the sound of his voice. he nodded meekly, feeling awkward and out of place. taehyun paused for a moment, and then eyed the seat across from him in a sort of wordless gesture, turning his gaze back to yeonjun.

yeonjun walked over timidly, regretting for a moment not leaving when he had the chance. as he was putting his books down on the table, he cast a few side glances at taehyun’s face.

“you’re not in my class, are you?” he asked hesitantly, adding, “what year are you… sophomore?” he looked at his books feeling a bit pathetic for a moment, hoping that he was only mistaken. he didn’t want to come to a sophomore for help on material he hadn’t even taken a class on yet.

“is that a problem?” taehyun interjected, and yeonjun lifted his head at the hint of aggression laced in his voice. he stared for just a moment, taehyun’s wide brown eyes trapping him under their glare, and suddenly he was embarrassed.

“no, no, it’s not,” yeonjun was mumbling without thinking, quickly sitting down in the seat of the booth and reaching a hand behind his head to scratch awkwardly at his neck. “i just didn’t recognize you, that’s all…” he trailed off. it wasn’t a lie of course, but it certainly wasn’t all either. he could feel a hint of warmth beginning to blossom on his cheeks and wished it would cut it out already.

“so, what do you need help with?” taehyun asked, and yeonjun subtly shifted uncomfortably in his seat under the boy’s scrutinizing gaze. he couldn’t help but feel the itch on his skin from coming to someone younger for help, but as his mind drifted back to the mounds of homework waiting to be completed by him, he clenched his teeth and knew he would just have to bear it. passing his classes was his only option, and if taehyun was the thing that would help push him to that point, then so be it. besides, spending the afternoon with this kid…..it probably…. yeonjun glanced up quickly between his thoughts and met taehyun’s patient eyes. probably wouldn’t be that bad.

he blinked away his thoughts, looking down and spreading his books across the table between them. “biology,” he blurted out. “and my math class…” and then taehyun was nodding, flipping open his little notebook and reaching for his pen. he started writing some things down.

“what are you writing?” yeonjun asked, palms flat against the solid cover of his biology textbook.

“just some notes. it will make things easier to keep track of.” taehyun muttered absentmindedly, not halting his movements. yeonjun watched him, eyes glued to the way his hand produced small neat handwriting onto the paper.

“i can’t remember anything in biology,” he continued, still observing taehyun as he skipped a line and began writing more. “it’s like it makes sense, but it never stays in my head.”

taehyun nodded shallowly, and yeonjun got this weird feeling like he was talking to his teacher. this kid was way too serious and precise.

“and your math class?” taehyun asked suddenly, lifting his head from his notebook. yeonjun paused. maybe it was the lighting or something, or the cozy atmosphere of the cafe, or maybe just his nerves messing with his perception, but something about taehyun’s face looking up at him like that made his stomach flutter. “um,” yeonjun uttered, wiping his palms against his pant legs. “yeah, basically the same thing. i always understand it in class but when i try to do it on my own…” he shook his head.

taehyun nodded again, quickly jotting it down. “okay,” he said, dropping his pen. “i’ll see if i can help.” and then he did something that yeonjun wasn’t at all ready for. he smiled softly, eyes crinkling a bit at the corners. oh, he’s cute, was all yeonjun could think, and he breathed out a laugh, returning the smile but looking down as he did so. what is wrong with you? he thought to himself.

taehyun reached over and picked up his biology textbook by the corner, half dragging it across the surface of the table until it was in front of him. he flipped it open, skimming the table of contents briefly before looking back at yeonjun. “what unit are you on?” he asked, and yeonjun’s brain was lagging. the thoughts coming in one after the other now, flitting through his mind about how pretty his tutor looked sitting there, and how embarrassed he felt, and how awkward he was acting.

“unit 6, i think,” he murmured, and thought he heard taehyun laugh the tiniest bit at his uncertainty as he found the page number and flipped to it in the book.

`

they sat there for the next few hours, yeonjun taking taehyun’s sincere advice on how he could study better but often finding himself distracted by the calm timber of his voice. taehyun had an excellent way of explaining things, and the more time he spent listening to him, the more yeonjun wondered how he could possibly be a sophomore. he watched the way taehyun’s expression grew focused when he was explaining more difficult concepts, like when they went over his math formulas together. he cursed his heart for the way it skipped ever so slightly every time he got an answer right, every time taehyun applauded him for doing it correctly on his own. he just knew there was a warm redness in his cheeks, for how long it lasted he had no idea, but he felt so strange being tutored by someone like taehyun.

by the time they were done, taehyun had a good few pages in his little notebook about things they had accomplished, things they needed to work on still, and how yeonjun should proceed with his classes. yeonjun had a good amount of notes as well, filling the pages of his notebooks with as many practice problems from taehyun as possible, knowing he would need them later.

“we can meet… next week if you want? here again?” taehyun asked, and yeonjun found himself once again pulled into his round brown eyes, thinking for a moment that he saw a flicker of hope in them. “yeah,” he responded, biting at his lip. “sounds good.” taehyun’s gaze flickered downward for a split second, and then back up again. he nodded again, and began to gather his things together. then he paused, and suddenly groaned, bringing a hand up to his forehead in frustration.

“we never got any coffee,” he said in a disappointed tone. “it completely slipped my mind.” he shook his head slowly.

yeonjun laughed, a bright and airy sound, and couldn’t help the smile on his face from forming at how genuinely upset taehyun seemed to be. “me too,” he snickered, and watched as taehyun looked up at him and dropped his hand. he began to smile too, a bashful look gracing his features at his own reaction.

“um, do you want me to buy you one? we can still order…” yeonjun blurted out before he could think. “i can stay for a little longer…”

taehyun’s eyes widened just barely, his mouth opening to speak and then closing again. “oh,” he said, gaze dropping down and raising back up. “okay,” he said quietly.

yeonjun smiled wide in response, laughing awkwardly. he asked for taehyun’s order, and taehyun gave it to him, still looking a bit taken aback. as yeonjun walked away to order their drinks, he could feel taehyun’s curious gaze on his back. the smile on his face wouldn’t seem to fade, but little did he know how much trouble he was in now. after all, he had a lot of studying to do, but when he would finally get around to it during the days to come he would find himself unable to focus or concentrate. his mind would be way too preoccupied thinking about his tutor that was annoyingly younger than him, and how pretty he looked under the warm lights of the cafe that afternoon.

[lonelypond]

Idol House: Protect All Idols, Ch. I

Love Live, NicoMaki, 2K, 1/2

Kawano Aki's attempts to break up Nico and Maki have caused reprecussions. How will Muse cope?

Coming Up WIth A Plan

Eli frowned, pushing papers to one side so she could double check something on her laptop. Nozomi was studying, but her books weren’t nearly as attractive as Eli biting her lower lip while icy blue eyes calculated possibilities.

“Nico’s right. We’re in trouble.” Eli sighed, leaned back, rubbing her eyes, blonde hair falling loose.

“Nico’s right?”

“Didn’t you see the text?”

Nozomi shook her head, she’d been in classes all day.”

“Internet bullies have decided to focus on harassing Kawano-san. There’s a producer’s meeting tomorrow. Nico wants to walk in with a 𝝁’s plan.”

Nozomi sat up, “What does Maki think?”

“She hasn’t responded to the group text, but when I asked Nico privately, Maki is furious that people are bullying someone in her name.” Eli’s phone pinged, she read, her face hardening, “Hanayo suggests we demand mental health services be offered to the cast, but she believes the producers will balk at the costs.”

###

Nico was pacing, ranting, hands flying. They were on the Otonokizaka rooftop, Nico had met Maki after school and they’d just headed up there for some privacy.

“Nico wants to be thinking about all the things you’re planning for my birthday, not bullies. If Nico leaves the Idol House, people will blame Aki and things will get even worse and Nico had plans. And made promises and…” Nico stopped, looking tiny, worried, and flummoxed.

Maki grabbed Nico and hugged her, “I know you can’t leave right now, Nico. Making sure we protect girls is what’s important.”

“Eli said she was doing some research; Hanayo suggests mental health counseling; Umi suggests finding a way to involve the parents of the bullies.”

Maki was silent for a moment, and then her voice was soft, “Why’d you do it, Nico? When 𝝁’s first started.”

Nico’s face scrunched up, as if she was about to fly into a raging rant and then she sagged, “Jealousy, stupidity, Honoka being so much more successful at recruiting people…” Nico stepped away, staring at Tokyo, “You were all so eager and friendly and attractive and Nico just felt…”

Maki waited.

“Nico just felt out of step, lonely. And like someone who’d memorized the steps to a dance, but couldn’t do them. You glowed with so much talent.”

Maki couldn’t remember Nico being this honest about her initial harassment of Honoka. The Aki situation must really be upsetting her. Sure Maki was angry, but it seemed to be making Nico sad, and not only because it was having a direct and detrimental effect on their future plans.

Maki sat within reach of Nico, back against the roof fence away as Nico blinked away tears.

“We wouldn’t have won Love Live without you.”

“That’s not true.”

“Without you, I never could have composed Yume no Tobira. A-Rise would have won the regional.”

Nico glanced down, Maki was staring up, eyes as bright and trusting as that night in front of the campfire. And Maki continued, determined to convince Nico, “Without you, no one would have been there to push us to develop idol personas, to be idols even when things weren’t going right, without you, Kotori wouldn’t have had anyone to bounce ideas back. WIthout you, our PVs and promotional materials would have lacked professional polish. Without you…” Maki took Nico’s hand, “there would have been so much less joy.”

Nico sat carefully on Maki’s lap, her face hidden against the taller girl’s shoulder. After a long silence, she whispered. “It’s just so hard to see someone being hurt because of me, because of us. I wanted people to love us, because I love you, but...” Nico had underestimated the fans’ capacity for fierce protectivity. It was scary.

“I know, Nico.” Maki carefully smoothed Nico’s hair, “And we’re going to fix this. We’re 𝝁’s. We win.”

“We do.”

“That’s what I want to hear from the Number One Producer in the Universe.”

Nico giggled, “You’re pretty sharp for a trophy wife.”

Maki squeezed Nico, inhaling the fruity shampoo scent she got lonely for, “I love you, Nico-chan.”

“I love you.”

###

Downstairs, in the Idol Club, another meeting was happening. Hanayo had spun her chair away from the dual monitors. “I don’t think Aki would be successful as a single Idol.”

Umi nodded, “No, that is a lot of pressure.”

Honoka bounced in her chair, “But she’s always finding a way to get more attention.”

Kotori frowned, “But, Honoka…”

“Yeah, she seems a bit desperate. That’s probably why people are picking on her.” Rin’s voice was getting louder, “That’s what they do, they find what you worry about and throw it in your face, to make you run away, and hide and they’re just…”

“Rin-chan.” Hanayo said softly, but Rin was staring at the table in front of her, refusing to look at anyone.

“We got through things because we stayed together.” Honoka stated proudly, “She doesn’t have a group, she must be lonely.”

Hanayo squeaked, suddenly kicking into verbal hyperdrive. “Maybe we should only invite groups, when they’re starting out, that’d be a whole new angle, draw in their original fans to build the Idol House fanbase, grow them with more fans, they’d be working together toward success in the Idol industry together not competing with each other, that’s such a great idea Honoka.”

“What’d Honoka come up with?” Nico sounded curious. No one had noticed the door open and Nico stood there, Maki behind her, hand on Nico’s waist.

“Invite groups into Idol House.” Hanayo’s eyes were wide. “We could do that so easily, Nico.”

Maki had noticed Rin’s mood and decided to sit next to her friend. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a pen, sliding it into Rin’s hand. Rin batted it away again and again, but Maki slowly slid it back every time, poking, until Rin grabbed the pen and threw it down the table, making Hanayo slide out of the way. “Lay off, Maki-chan.”

“Hey, you two are going to hurt someone. Take it outside.” Nico ordered.

“I don’t want to.” Rin seethed.

Umi frowned, after a quick glance shared with Maki, settled her shoulders, “I must agree with Nico. Maki, Rin, take your juvenile behavior elsewhere.”

Rin got to her feet, whining, “C’mon Maki, why’d you have to get us in trouble, You owe me so much ramen.”

“Okay.” Maki said simply as she opened the door, “Let’s go for ramen. Loser has to pay.” And Maki sprinted off down the corridor as Rin roared after her.

“Hey, that’s cheating, Maki-chan!”

“Those two,” Umi clucked her tongue, but her tone was benevolent, “sometimes make Honoka look mature.”

“Hey!” Honoka complained. “I thought we were here to stop bullying.”

###

Honoka couldn’t find Kotori. Umi had gone to practice archery. Nico and Hanayo had headed out to meet up with Rin and Maki, but Kotori had disappeared. She hadn’t said much in the meeting, which wasn’t really surprising, but she hadn’t hung around after while Honoka and Umi discussed what Nico should present from 𝝁’s as investors and co executive producers.

There was one place. Kotori preferred working at home on designs, but she still spent many hours in the home economics classroom. Honoka headed there, running, but a calm run. Umi would understand. Honoka opened the door and Kotori was sitting at the sewing table, stabbing pins into fabric patterns with a painful precision that made Honoka wince. She’d seen Kotori push needles through leather and then failed completely when she’d tried herself so Honoka could imagine the force Kotori was wielding at the pin tips.

“Kotori-chan?”

“Mmmm…”

Honoka quietly knelt next to Kotori, “Are you okay, Kotori-chan?”

Kotori shook her head, she’d been crying. Honoka reached out, pulling Kotori into a hug, “Don’t cry, Kotori-chan. I’m gonna fix this.”

“How, Honoka-chan?” People are so mean.”

“Yeah, I know. But we know nice ones and I bet they’ll help us.”

“Really, Honoka-chan?”

Honoka smiled as Kotori’s honey eyes brightened, “I promise.”

“Oh, Honoka-chan.” All of Kotori’s weight was suddenly in Honoka’s arms and somehow Honoka managed to maneuver them both to the floor, Kotori half sitting in Honoka’s lap, tears and sniffling all over. It would have been amusing if Kotori hadn’t been so sad. Very gently, as if touching a shy puppy, Honoka reached her hand up, fingers caressing Kotori’s downy tresses. She smiled, Kotori nuzzling closer, softness tickling her chin.

###

Maki couldn’t stop watching Nico’s grumpy face. It was adorable. They were meeting Tsubasa and Nico was less than thrilled that Maki was the person Tsubasa was most likely to agree to do a favor for.

“Hi Maki! And Nico. This is a treat. The Idol Power couple together. For me.” Tsubasa had only gotten cheekier with broader fame.

“I’m just here to make sure Maki doesn’t get talked into writing you another album.” Nico crossed her arms over her chest.

Maki leaned in, “No, you’re here as an Idol House producer, Nico-chan.”

“Oh right.” Nico waved a waitress over, pointing to her and Maki’s usual orders. “What can I get you, Tsubasa?”

“An espresso. And a cornetto.”

“Good choice.”

“So what can I do for you, Maki? Honoka’s text was…” Tsubasa fluttered her eyelids, “rambling.”

“We have a bullying problem.”

“The girl who can’t decide between you or Nico. I noticed that was blowing up. Going to drop her from the show? Probably best.”

“It’s not her fault.” Maki snapped.

There was a pause, then Tsubasa whistled, “She makes a play for your fiancée, then you, and you’re here to get me to help her?” Tsubasa glanced at Nico, “Aren’t you both notorious for jealous flare ups?”

Maki blushed, fidgeting with her napkin.

Nico tapped the table to get Tsubasa’s attention off Maki, “She’s a kid. Being harassed. Trying to make it in the biz. You know how rough that is.” Nico took Maki’s hand, “Nobody’s getting between Maki and me, that wasn’t even an issue. And no one is going to be bullied and harassed if we can help it.”

“Well, I applaud the sentiment, but it’s already happened. What can you do?”

Maki had recovered, although she still kept holding Nico’s hand under the table, “We wondered if you knew any group that could fit a new singer in. No one thinks she’s ready for a solo career.”

“You’re going to promote her?!?!?!? After all that trouble?” Tsubasa pushed her chair back. “And how does that help in the future? Aren’t you setting up a victim culture?”

Nico shook her head, “We made a mistake. We’re going to make some changes. Invite groups so it’s not just girls or guys all scrambling to make it, so there’s a built in support system.”

“And mental health counseling.” Maki added.

“Wow. This is serious.”

Maki spoke softly, “𝝁’s was a miracle. We want to use our name and platform to improve the industry.”

“Spoken like a person with power.”

“Yes,” Maki gritted her teeth, “I have money, my family has power, 𝝁’s has popularity. If I can use those things to help one girl not cry herself to sleep, or worse, I will.”

Nico leaned over to whisper something in Maki’s ear, and the redhead replied in the same low tone, her hand falling to Nico’s knee with a graceful ease. Envy pinged Tsubasa at the casualness of the couple moment. Screaming fans and a date with nearly anyone she asked was a thrill, but something about the quiet, private interludes Nico and Maki had always managed, even on stage or in the midst of a crowd, held a powerful appeal.

“Doesn’t Koizumi-san have any leads on groups looking to expand or replace someone?”

Nico shook her head, “None of those really suit Aki-san. We thought you might have heard some rumors.”

Tsubasa smiled at the waitress who brought her espresso, “Not recently. But I can ask around.” A delicate sip, “But you may have to do me a favor.”

“What?” Nico went for daunting.

Tsubaba shrugged and giggled, “I might take my time deciding.”

Nico snapped a cookie in half, while Maki decided to whisper something that made Nico flush a little. The meeting hadn’t gone anywhere Tsubasa expected. Which was a surprise. What would Nico come up with next? And could Tsubasa top it?

A/N: Howdy! Hoodie weather is here, I'm making things up as I go along, and I hope you are all well.

Also, please register to vote and/or make a voting plan if you are an American citizen. Rock the Vote is a good resource; link in comments.