#anyway <3 i really like how this one came out

[hoffmansgirl]

𓍯 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 ' . . . nicholas alexander chavez my emotions are naked, they're taking me out of my mind

⸝⸝⸝ 𓏲 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. . . nicholas a. chavez x fem!reader

a/n. this took almost 2 months to complete but i'm so happy with how this came out !!! i hope you enjoy // this one's for you, @iamsebastiansstan <3 manifesting this for us

warnings. 18+ — minors dni! smut, that including unprotected piv, name calling, kinda hate sex ? crying during + after sex &&& lots of plot beforehand | wc. ۪13.494  ⊹ 𓄹 ࣪ . ݁

— english is not my first language ! feedback is appreciated

"Do we really need to set those fucking rules? You're not gonna abide by them anyway", you chuckled, you're bare back pressing against Nicholas' sweaty chest as he held you close. You felt it rise and fall with every sharp breath he took, the smell of sex and sweat filling the small space of his room. With your palms pressed tightly against the wall and Nicholas' hands rubbing up and down your sides, you felt surprisingly at peace.

"Speak for yourself. I just wanna make sure we're on the same page here", he mumbled, slipping out of your pussy in one, swift movement, and you winced, turning back towards him with a small smile plastered on your face. You were utterly spent, but nonetheless satisfied as you straightened the material of your skirt, making sure you looked presentable, even in your fucked-out state.

"What do you say about... fuck buddies? No feelings involved. Nothin' more than a good fuck once in a while", Nicholas shrugged, pulling his pants up his legs, and you nodded, running your palms over your hair to tame the strands that slipped out of your slicked back hairstyle.

"Yeah, sounds good. Just know", you lowered your voice, standing on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear. "I'm unable to resist. Let's hope you don't fall in love with me in the process".

Nicholas chuckled, his thumb pressing against your lower lip as he cradled your cheek, looking down at you with authority that made your breath hitch. "Don't worry. I won't".

How fucking ironic.

Nicholas' voice echoed in your head as you stood there, immersed in silence, just by the bar's emergency exit door. You could almost feel his presence next to you, his hot breath on your neck, this stupidly attractive smirk that he always sent your way. The way his eyes gazed deep into your soul, as if he could read you like an open book.

Sometimes you had a feeling he knew you better than you knew yourself.

You hated yourself for letting him ruin your night. The buzz you got from the alcohol started to pass, and all that was left inside you was sorrow and anger. The distinctive smell of smoke lingered in the air around you as you took another puff of your half-burnt out cigarette, inhaling deeply, as if the toxin could heal the wounds Nicholas left in your heart.

In your head, you could clearly see it — Nicholas standing a couple of feet away from you, his back facing you. Your friends' laughter erupted in your ears as one of them made a really bad joke, most of them completely drunk by now, barely able to stand straight. Your attention was solely focused on him — the man you came here for in the first place. You hadn't seen him in two weeks, for God's sake! It soon became obvious why, though. A tall, long-haired blonde woman approached the group, the sound of her heels clicking against the floor heard even through the loud music. She leaned against Nicholas, wrapping her arms around his neck, and he responded immediately with rubbing his hands up and down her sides. Suddenly, you felt very uncomfortable in your own skin — the soft fabric of your embarrassingly short dress pressing tightly against your body now suffocating. You wore it only for him, and he didn't even spare you a glance. With teary eyes, you watched as he leaned down, pressing his lips against hers, which were much bigger and fuller than yours, you noted. Your bottom lip trembled slightly as you sipped on your drink, your gaze falling to the floor.

What did you do wrong?

Another inhale, another exhale. You played with the necklaces hanging loosely around your neck, feeling your muscles relax a bit as you did so. No matter how dumb that sounded, the cool metal felt refreshing against your fingertips, grounding you to the moment. No matter how hard you tried, though, you couldn't get Nicholas out of your head. The night was hot, although you could feel an uninvited shiver run down your spine as you let your mind wander to him again, again and again.

Friends with benefits, he said. No boundaries, just sex between two best friends. The rules were simple enough — but somehow, you managed to break all of them.

No staying overnight. But you did — so many times, letting Nicholas cuddle you through the night, finding comfort and safety in his warm embrace. No kissing. No cuddling afterwards. No catching feelings. And the most important, at least for Nicholas, as he emphasised many times before — No seeing other people. He mentioned that it was for safety reasons, but you didn't believe him — maybe you hoped he wanted you all to himself, the same way you wanted him.

Everything had changed. You looked at him in ways you never dared to before — you started to see a man in him. It started innocently enough. His hand raking through your hair after practically fucking your soul out of you, his eyes filled with hesitation, as if he was scared to touch you, take care of you — but he did. He always did.

Then, he told you to stay overnight. The warmth of his arms around you, his intoxicating smell wrapping around you like a blanket, his soothing hands rubbing against your shoulder and thigh, lips ghosting over your forehead and damp hair. The way he kissed you as if you were the most precious being, lulling you to your sleep after forcing you to take a shower. His smile when he looked down at you with quiet adoration that he hoped you didn't notice. But you did. You always did.

You knew you crossed a line you couldn't uncross, but it was too late to turn back.

The universe seemed to laugh at you, now, as you sat there, alone, hugging your arms to your chest in hopes to ease the aching of your heart. The first drop of the warm, summer rain fell on your skin, dripping down the side of your hand as you shakily exhaled.

The silence of the outside world, compared to the chaos happening inside the bar was almost suffocating, but somehow comforting. You wrapped your jacket around yourself, even though your body was on fire. Maybe you were just trying to shield yourself from the feelings you had towards Nicholas, maybe you just hoped it'd all go away if you hid behind the oversize jacket. Without a second thought, you took the cigarette pack out of your pocket, lighting one up, watching as it got damp due to the — now harder — rain.

"You're pretty", you thought you heart him mumble just as you poured milk into the bowl, glancing at the recipe in order to get everything right. You froze mid-mixing the dough, breath caught in your throat, the music softly blasting in the background long forgotten. Nicholas stood by your side, leaning against the counter, watching you more than actually helping — just as he always did. His attentive eyes bore into the side of your face shamelessly, and you sent him a quick glance, small smirk tugging on the corner of your lips as you processed his words.

"Sure", you replied simply, chuckling to yourself, even though you could hear your heart pound in your throat. "I'm sure you say that to every girl you hang out with".

It was Nicholas' time to chuckle. He shifted, leaning forward to look over your shoulder, his eyes following you mixing the dough in the small bowl. Your attempts to stop the trembling of your hands were useless as the spoon slipped out of your grasp, falling onto the floor with a defeating bang.

"Easy there, love", he teased, leaning down to grab it for you, leaving a soft peck on your thigh as he did. An unwanted shiver run down your spine, and you found yourself turning your head to look at him as he straightened his posture, towering over you. "I don't. You're the only one I call pretty".

You gulped as Nicholas met your gaze, small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he studied your nervous expression. You couldn't help the heat that spread across your body at his words, and you smiled, a hint of shyness in your expression — and he noticed immediately. He always did.

Without another word, he handed you the spoon, and you nodded in quiet "thanks", your gaze dropping to his lips for a second before you went back to mixing the dough.

You had hoped he couldn't feel your heart pounding in your chest.

"Y'know", Nicholas continued casually, his hands founding place on your hips as if they belonged there. You stayed silent, waiting for him to continue, instinctively leaning back against his chest. "We should go out sometime. There's this nice restaurant on the other side of town — I think you'd like it".

You gulped, trying your hardest to seem relaxed, but you could feel your muscles clenching, your mouth feeling dryer than usual. Yet you couldn't help the warmth that spread across your stomach. Was he...?

"Are you asking me out on a date?", you chuckled, turning around in his grasp, tilting your head so that you could have a look at him. He was so much taller than you, so much bigger — and you wondered if it wasn't one of the reasons why you fell for him in the first place. With your hands on Nicholas' chest, playing with the collar of his black t-shirt, you could feel his heart pound against your palms.

Nicholas laughed, although it sounded strained, almost forced, his grip on you tightening for a spare second. "Nah. I don't do this shit anymore. Just thought it would be nice to take you there".

With a hint of hesitation, you met his gaze, your smile dropping almost in time with your heart sinking in your chest. You bit the inside of your mouth, desperately trying not to show how much his words affected you — but they did. And he noticed. Sometimes you felt as if he knew you better than you knew yourself, looking right through you as if you were invisible. And you hated yourself for letting him get to you in such ways. You hated yourself for holding your heart out on your sleeve, and you hated him for breaking it again, again... and again.

"Um... yeah. I don't know. You might as well take someone else", you whispered, fixing the wrinkles on his shirt before slipping out of his grasp, turning away without another word. Your throat felt dry, and you struggled to keep your composure, feeling as if you were punched in the gut.

Were you overreacting? Maybe. Were you still hoping he might feel the same way and was just really, really good at hiding it? Definitely.

"I don't want to go with anyone else", he urged, trying to get closer to you again, the warmth of his body surrounding you, almost suffocating now. Although his words made your heart race, blush creeping up onto your face, you didn't let him get any closer. You knew his touch would hurt. And you knew you couldn't allow him to hurt you anymore.

"Nicholas, I can't do this", you mumbled. Not once had he seen you cry — and you weren't going to let him. Your voice was confident, not shaking even once, as you turned towards him, your hard gaze unfaltering, even though his disappointed expression made your heart break just a little. "You're crossing a line. Weren't you the one who made those stupid rules? Weren't you the one who wanted— wanted for it to be nothing more than a good fuck once in a while? Look what's happening to us", you babbled, even though with every word you said, your heart sunk deeper into your chest. It hurt to say it out loud, but you had to face the truth — you crossed a line. Maybe it was all fun and games to him, but it wasn't to you. Not anymore.

Nicholas seemed to be taken aback by your sudden outburst. He stepped back, as if being this close to you caused him physical pain.

He stayed quiet for a while. You could hear your own heartbeat in the quietness of the kitchen as you watched him, waiting for him to say something. Anything.

"You're right. We shouldn't", he nodded, meeting your gaze with a hint of hesitation. "Which doesn't mean I'm gonna stop kissing you. It's the one rule I want to keep on breaking— If you let me".

You let a small smile tug at the corners of your lips, your eyes softening. Nicholas, noticing the change in your expression, stepped closer again, caging you between his body and the kitchen counter, his hands finding place on your cheeks, as if they belonged there.

"I'd rather die than to stop kissing you", he whispered, pushing a strand of your untamed hair behind your ear. Your breath hitched, and you clutched his shirt between your fingers, as if to ground yourself to the moment.

You wanted to tell him everything. How much you'd grown to love him, how safe you felt in his arms, how you wanted to be something more than just a friend to him. But you didn't. Instead, you stepped on your tiptoes to press a soft, loving peck to his lips, hoping it'd say what you didn't dare to.

You let the smoke leave your mouth, watching it swirl in the air only to dissipate seconds later. The rain was now pouring down from the sky, and you wanted to laugh at the irony of the situation. You shivered, hugging yourself tighter, not even caring about the dampness of your clothes and the raindrops falling down your forehead, messing up your perfectly done makeup.

The sound of the door creaking open caught you off guard — not so many people knew about the backside of the bar, and you'd hoped it would stay this way. You tilted your head, your eyes narrowing in hopes to catch a glimpse of the person that had, unknowingly, disturbed the one moment of peace you had in a long time. The last person you'd expect to see, though, was Nicholas. He looked stupidly handsome in a black, skin-tight shirt, worn out jeans and some white sneakers, and you hated him for it.

Your heart dropped to your stomach when you realised he wasn't alone.

A loud, annoyingly sweet and high-pitched laugh echoed through the silence, along with the already familiar clicking of the girl's heels against the concrete pavement. You hoped that somehow, he wouldn't notice you; God, how badly you wished you could become invisible for a moment. You blinked rapidly, keeping your composure, even though you could feel your heart pounding against your ribs. With narrowed eyes, you looked her up and down, almost rolling them as you noticed her leaning against Nicholas' shoulder for balance as she kept on giggling. She was completely drunk, but Nicholas, on the other hand, seemed sober. His hand rested on her waist, slowly guiding her down the steps, keeping quiet as she tripped over her feet clumsily, laughing loudly. The urge to roll your eyes was too strong, now, as you balled up against the wall, partially trying to hide under your jacket, your knees pulled to your chest, your knuckles turning white as you gripped on the wet ground beneath you.

As they got closer, you couldn't help but feel your heart race, knowing there was nowhere to hide. You sighed, hastily taking a puff of your cigarette, losing count of how many you've already smoked. You had hoped he wouldn't notice you through the wall of rain, that he'd walk past you as if you didn't exist. You shifted on the ground, your head dropping back against the wall as you stared up at the clouded sky, exhaling the smoke into the damp air. You tried your best to seem relaxed, but you couldn't help the tears brimming in the corners of your eyes — your breathing getting heavier the closer they got.

The world seemed to stop spinning for a second when you met Nicholas' gaze. Surprise was written all over his face, replaced by concern as soon as he realised you were soaking wet, out in the open rain. You smacked your glossy lips together, your eyes falling to the ground as you heard him approach you with a few, long steps.

"Y/N? What— what are you doing here?", he said softly, crouching down next to you, forgetting about the girl he left with. You didn't look at him right away; you knew you couldn't. Your bottom lip trembled slightly as you took a puff of your cigarette, staring at the ground blankly — wishing a black hole would come crashing down and swallow you whole.

"Hey, are you okay? Wanna go in—".

"I'm fine, Nicholas", you interrupted mid sentence, finally finding courage to look him in the eyes. His brows were slightly furrowed, concern written all over his face as he carefully studied you, gulping. You had never called him Nicholas before. It was always Nic, Nico, or even Chavez if you were being playful. The sound of his full name falling from your lips was so unfamiliar, it sent shivers down his spine. You took a deep breath, stubbing the remains of your cigarette out slowly. "Don't keep your company waiting".

For a second, he seemed confused, as if he forgot about the person he left with in the first place. He turned his head, watching the girl as she sat on the bench, swinging her legs in the air happily, mumbling nonsense. You rolled your eyes and snarled, moving to get up from the ground — your ass felt sore, you were soaked, and you wanted to get Nicholas out of your sight as soon as possible.

"I'm just driving her home", he explained, stepping closer towards you as you hastily stood up, wrapping your jacket tighter around you.

"Nicholas, I don't care", the coldness again. "It's certainly none of my concern. You seemed to be pretty close, though", you couldn't help but chuckle, shaking your head.

"It's not like that", he groaned, quickly getting irritated at the indifference in your voice and in your eyes. You bit back a sigh, instead rolling your eyes, fixing your damp hair in hopes to tame it, make yourself look better than you felt. "Let me drive you home. We can talk about it, yeah?".

You found yourself shaking your head before he could even finish the sentence, taking a step back to put some distance between the two of you. Nicholas couldn't help but let his eyes roam over your soaked form, how absolutely beautiful you looked, even when drenched in the open rain.

"No, Nicholas. It's better if I go on my own", you stepped back when he tried to reach for you, as if his touch would set you on fire. "We—", you pointed your finger towards him and then you again, "we don't work. We're done. You hear me? I— I can't".

You hated the way your voice trembled, but you were sure of what you wanted. You knew you couldn't have it, and no matter how much it hurt, you had to protect your heart. Maybe it was too late, though — when you looked into his eyes, wide and pleading, as if asking you not to let go — you weren't so sure you could.

"What do you mean 'we're done'?", he asked carefully, running a hand through his messy locks, staring at you like a lost puppy.

"I meant exactly that. You're fucking kissing another girl in there and— you broke the fucking rule. The one that was so fucking important to you in the first place!", you snarled, barely able to control your anger and sorrow anymore. Your heart felt as if it was going to explode, and you took a deep, painful breath, leaning back against the wall in hopes to calm yourself down.

He knew you were serious. He could see it in your eyes, in the way you carried yourself tonight. And he wanted to slam his head against the wall, because he did all of this to get your attention. Maybe he had expected you to end up tangled in his sheets after a mind-blowing make up sex — but he didn't expect you to give up on him. To give up on what you had.

"It's not like that, Y/N, just—".

"Fucking stop it, Nicholas!", you hissed, taking a step forward, tugging at the hem of your dress to pull it down your thighs. "I meant it. I— I'm fucking tired. Exhausted, even", you laughed, although you weren't amused. "I don't want to be one of your girls. It hurts".

You didn't wait for him to reply; you couldn't even look at him. Instead, you turned around, quickly disappearing in the thick rain that continued to pour from the dark sky.

He didn't come after you.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ♡

For the next week, you didn't see him.

Not that you wanted to — but the emptiness in your heart only deepened the more days passed by. You tried to get yourself busy, manoeuvring between work and taking extra assignments and getting with your friends in the weekends. No matter how hard you tried, though, the thought of him always lingered in the back of your mind.

It was Saturday evening, and you were getting ready to go out with your friends. You finished off your makeup by putting a lipgloss on, smacking your lips together to spread it evenly. You couldn't help but feel your stomach hurl with excitement at the thought of going out, maybe meeting someone new, forgetting everything for a night.

As you stared out of your window and admired the panorama of New York, constantly living and breathing, you felt smaller than ever. The weight on your heart seemed to follow you everywhere, even if you tried to leave it in your pocket for just a few hours. You caught your own reflection in the thick glass, and you didn't even recognise who you were anymore. Maybe falling for Nicholas was the worst mistake you've ever made, but you couldn't deny he made you feel more alive than ever.

The tight, black, backless top you wore clung to your figure in the best way possible, your perky nipples just barely visible from underneath the thick material. Your thighs were almost fully exposed, a simple, black skirt ending just below your ass — it was so out of your comfort zone, but somehow, it made you feel better. Maybe you wanted to prove to everyone, including yourself, that you weren't thinking about him, that you got over the whole mess he'd recently put you through. You sighed heavily, looking out of the window as if the answers for all your doubts were written in the sky.

You fixed your hair, patiently waiting for the right time to leave. It was only beginning to get dark, the sunset creeping into the room casting golden shadows over your face. You couldn't help but wonder what Nicholas was up to — as you stared at the horizon, your hand wandered to the phone laying on your vanity. Maybe you had expected to see a message from him, a missed call; anything that would signal he still cared. Disappointment bloomed in your stomach when you were met with a few messages from your friends, a notification from Instagram and a reminder to take your daily dose of medicine. You rolled your eyes, annoyed, throwing the phone onto your bed before you shuffled towards the door.

A sudden, annoyingly loud sound of your doorbell caught you off guard. You hadn't expected any visitors tonight, neither were you waiting for a package or a letter. You could feel a lump in your throat as your feet moved on their own, guiding you towards the door slowly but surely. The feeling of uneasiness seemed to bloom in your stomach, as if you knew — or maybe, expected — exactly who was waiting at the door. The doorbell rang again, cutting through the silence like a knife, and you froze, your hand towering over the door handle.

You cursed the building's owner for not putting a viewfinder in the doors.

You turned the lock, wincing when your keychain rustled loudly, as if to inform the person on the other side that you were, indeed, home. You couldn't hide even if you wanted to, now — so, without a second thought, you opened the door.

Your breath got caught in your throat when you saw Nicholas. You cursed him for looking so stupidly good as you hastily looked him up and down. You sent him a glare, not saying a word, because... truthfully, there was nothing to say anymore. His gaze lingered on your boobs for a second longer than appropriate, before moving down, focusing on your exposed legs instead. He leaned against the doorframe nonchalantly, as if nothing ever happened, as if nothing between you changed.

"Going somewhere?", he mocked, inviting himself in, taking off his leather jacket as he went. The intoxicating smell of his cologne filled the room, wrapping around you like a comfortingly familiar blanket. You bit the inside of your mouth, not quite sure what to do, although you could feel your stomach tighten at his mere presence alone. Absolutely fucking pathetic.

"What are you doing here?", you asked carefully, keeping a safe distance as he entered your kitchen, moving around as if he owned the place. Nicholas didn't answer right away — instead he took a cup from the cupboard, pouring himself some orange juice, his movements slow and deliberate. You felt your cheeks heat up; his arrogant carelessness making annoyance bloom low in your stomach. "I said we're fucking done, Nicholas. Why do you act like a fucking child? Why the fuck are you even here?".

He leaned against the kitchen counter, clearly indifferent to your anger. A small smirk played on his lips as he took a small sip of the juice, tapping his fingers against the countertop. Your gaze lingered on his hand for longer than necessary, but your expression stayed neutral, your arms crossed on your chest as if to protect yourself from his effortless charm.

"This is good— Where'd you buy it?", Nicholas asked, clearly unbothered by the glares you sent his way. You rolled your eyes; the barely concealed anger began to overcome you, and you clenched your fists in order to calm the storm going on in your head.

"It's a fucking orange juice", you muttered, shaking your head, your eyes squeezed shut in disbelief. "Why are we having this conversation right now, I mean— Are you for fucking real?" you stuttered, irritated but not quite sure what to do, how to get rid of him. "Nicholas, go away. I've got somewhere to be".

He met your gaze, and for the first time that night, he wasn't wearing that arrogant smirk, his expression dropping a little as he carefully studied you. As much as you felt confident about the way you looked, you couldn't help but sink into the ground as his dark gaze lingered on your legs for longer than needed. Nicholas raised his eyebrows, almost as if he was judging your choice of clothing, a mocking, playful smile making its way onto his lips.

"I'm sure your girlfriends will be fine", he licked his lips, putting the — now empty — cup in the sink before walking off in the direction of your room nonchalantly.

You had no other choice but to follow, your feet shuffling against the wooden floor agonisingly slow as you stared at his back blankly. And you absolutely hated the way your heart fluttered at the sight of his muscles clenching as he walked.

"Yeah, they will. I'm not going out with them", you rasped, feeling a lump starting to form in your throat as you walked past Nicholas, plopping on your bed — just now realising he wasn't planning on leaving anytime soon. You didn't meet his gaze, instead focusing on fixing the crinkles on your fluffy blanket. You saw Nicholas move from the corner of your eye; his brown, attentive eyes narrowed slightly as he leaned against the doorframe, his arms folded over his chest.

"Then who are going out with?", he asked slowly and lowly, curious yet scared of the answer. His tone left you no choice but to look at him sheepishly, fluttering your lashes as you bit the inside of your mouth. You knew exactly where this was going, and it meant one thing and one thing only: trouble.

"I'm meeting someone, Nicholas. It's none of your concern anyway, so I'd appreciate it if you—".

"No. You're not doing that", Nicholas chuckled, although there was no humour in his tone at all — his voice an almost animalistic hiss, dripping with venom. You rose up to your feet, anger and annoyance blooming in your chest as you let his words sink in. You sent him a glare, just now noticing how dark his eyes became. He was breathing heavily, leaning against the doorframe, trapping you inside, giving you no choice but to stay where you were.

You turned on your feet, walking to the window only to stare at the New York panorama; you could practically hear the roar of the city through the thin glass, making your heart ache with longing. It was supposed to be a fun night — you were supposed to forget about him, just for one night, maybe meet someone new. Yet there he was, trapping you inside your own apartment as if you were a prisoner.

"How comes you tell me what to fucking do?", you snapped, turning around only to face him again. You couldn't control your anger anymore, not even if you tried — his arrogant smirk only spurring you on, causing you to close the distance between you in a few, big steps.

"I just want you to fucking leave me alone. I don't want to see you, I don't want to listen to anything you say. You can go back to being a man whore now — don't let me hold you back anymore", you snarled, pushing him back in hopes to get him to listen, just for once. Your breath was heavy as you watched Nicholas straighten his posture, pushing himself off the wall swiftly. His smirk vanished, and so did your confidence as he towered over you, almost making you feel nauseous. You swallowed hard, instinctively taking a step back to increase the distance between you, your face feeling stiff as you watched his dangerous expression.

"Don't you dare talk to me like that", he hissed, his tone leaving you no room to protest. Your throat felt dry as you chuckled lowly, shaking your head in disbelief.

"Big, dangerous Nicholas. All you do is fucking talk", you chuckled again, one of your hands moving up only to tap his cheek lightly, as if he was a little boy. Your voice was sharp, but there was a light edge to it — a challenge. Nicholas' gaze dropped to your lips, his jaw tight as he watched an amused smirk appear on your face. "You're a fucking asshole, and I want nothing to do with you. You had already made your choice. Now, get the fuck out".

He didn't move. Neither did you. You'd wondered what he'd do next — if he'd listen to you, just this one time, or if he'd kill you right on the spot. The anticipation made your heart race, your hands shaking nervously, arms falling limp by your sides.

Just as you were about to move, to break the thick silence by shuffling to the door, Nicholas hand clamped down on your neck, cutting your airflow in one, swift movement.

You gasped when you met his gaze — his pupils completely blown out, swallowing the darkness of his irises; brows furrowed as he studied your face, the corner of his mouth turning up at the look of fear on your face. He really did find the whole situation amusing, meanwhile you struggled against him, trying to free yourself from the bruising grip he had on you.

"Say that again", he hissed lowly, leaning down so that he could be face to face with you. His eyes remained serious, although a small smirk made its way onto his face as he watched you wince and grip his forearm in order to free yourself. You knew Nicholas would never hurt you, but the way he looked at you sent shiver down your spine. The feelings you tried to bury deep inside your heart came flooding back — no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn't shake them.

You took a shallow breath, gulping audibly when Nicholas brought you closer by your neck, his lips now millimetres away from yours. He tilted his head, studying your face as if he could see right through you — as if he could sense the longing for him that you so desperately tried to hide. His eyes remained cold, and you felt his hot breath against your cheek, your face growing warmer with each passing second.

"I fucking hate you", you spat, your voice strangled due to the pressure his hand put on your neck. The more you said it, the less you believed that's how you truly felt. Your words were filled with venom, but there was also an unmistakable crack to your voice that defeated you. A small chuckle erupted from Nicholas' chest — and you knew you had already lost the battle you unknowingly fought in your head.

"Mhm. And you aren't... jealous of me? You didn't look so happy about my little company last weekend", he snarled, letting go of your neck only to bring you closer by your hips, his fingers pressing into your skin with unspoken possessiveness. You took a deep breath, your hands rubbing the sore skin he just let go of, your eyes squinting as a soft laugh escaped your parted lips. You shook your head. The audacity of men.

"What do you want me to say? It was not a part of the deal. You broke the rules of our little arrangement, but when it comes to me seeing other people, suddenly it's a problem?", you snapped, putting your hands on his chest to at least put some distance between the two of you. You weren't sure if you wanted to cry or to laugh. "Who the fuck do you think you are, Nicholas?".

For a second, it seemed as if he was speechless. His mouth opened and closed as if he was a god damn fish — words dying in his throat as he watched you with an unfaltering expression. You huffed, pushing him back until his hands fell from your hips to stupidly swing by his sides. "You're pathetic. Get out. I won't repeat myself".

Your throat burned with the things you wanted to say — how much you hated him for how he played you; how badly he hurt you; how madly you've fallen for him. Instead, you just watched as he took a deep breath, collecting himself, his gaze lowering to the ground as if he wasn't sure what to say.

After a few seconds, that felt like an eternity, you heard him shuffle towards the door. Your heart ached, and you weren't quite sure why — you wanted him to leave. He listened to you, just for once, and for some reason, all you wanted to do was yell: "stay". You mindlessly toyed with your fingers, watching as his hand towered over the doorknob, hesitating just for a second.

"I don't share".

Nicholas' voice came out as barely a whisper, and if it wasn't for the gravelly silence, you wouldn't even catch it. Your eyes almost fell out of your head, you could hear your own heartbeat in the quietness of the room — you were almost convinced Nicholas could, too.

"W-what?", your voice came out an octave higher than you'd anticipated, making you want to slam your head against the wall. You watched Nicholas' back as he stood still, his head tilting just slightly to give you a side-eyed look.

"You heard me", he growled, much louder this time, before slowly turning towards you, as if you were his prey. His gaze landed on you, confident and serious, catching you off guard. You momentarily forgotten about every insult you wanted to call him — your hands clutched in fists by your sides, the all-familiar heat filling your stomach as it hurled with need. "You are not going to see anyone else. You're mine, whether you like it or not".

You blinked slowly, watching as Nicholas got closer again. The room suddenly got smaller, the air around you thicker. Your head shot up as he towered over you, giving you no room to protest before leaning down and pressing his lips against yours.

You wanted to protest — hit him, slap him in the face, get a reaction out of him; humiliate him just as he did you so many times. Yet all you could do was stand there, your feet planted into the floor, and you couldn't move; couldn't react. Your eyes closed involuntarily, your heart beating out of your chest as you obeyed him; what other choice did you have? Lying to yourself was much better than facing the undeniable truth — you wanted this. You wanted to get a reaction out of him, to provoke him, watch him break and fight for whatever you two had. And, based on the way he pulled you closer by your hips, pressing against you as if he didn't want to let go — it definitely worked.

You desperately kissed him back, unable to hide what you truly wanted no more — your hands tangling in his hair, tugging at the strands with a little too much force than you anticipated. You felt Nicholas' mocking smile against your lips, a soft groan that you oh, missed so dearly leaving his mouth when he felt the harsh sting on his scalp. The pain only seemed to fuel him further, his fingers digging into your waist as if he wanted to leave bruises there — claiming you as his for anyone else to see. Your breaths mingled together, short and shallow, as you devoured each other as if it was the last thing you were going to do. Your mouth parted in an involuntary moan when Nicholas pulled on your bottom lip with his teeth, his greedy touch hurriedly backing you against the window.

As soon as your bare back made contact with the cool glass, a shiver ran down your spine — an involuntary squeak leaving your throat, being swallowed by his greedy lips on yours. Nicholas wouldn't let you breathe, putting all of his gathered anger, annoyance and lust into the kiss, making sure you could feel him all over you.

"You drive me fucking insane", he breathed out, slipping his knee between your legs just as his lips began to travel down your throat, biting the sensitive skin there, soothing the pain with his tongue immediately after. Your head was thrown back, eyes rolling back into your head, your nails raking through his messy curls to ground yourself in any way you could. "Still hate me?".

You let out a breathless chuckle that quickly turned into a moan — Nicholas' breath tickled your collarbone, his mouth working on your sensitive skin as if he couldn't get enough.

"More than ever", you choked out, pulling his head up so that you could reconnect your lips, already missing the addicting taste of his mouth. Your tongue parted his lips, and Nicholas groaned lowly, the sound bubbling in his throat as he greedily kissed you back. No matter how hard you tried to keep your guard up, to push him away and slap him across his stupidly handsome face — you couldn't bring yourself to do so. Maybe it was the way his hands roamed up and down your sides, squeezing your skin as if he was scared you'd slip away; or maybe it was the smell, taste, warmth of him on your body. There was no denying he was the only one that could make you feel this good — and he barely even started.

So you allowed him to do whatever he pleased.

One of Nicholas' hands travelled all over your side, lifting the hem of your little top as it moved up your stomach slowly, teasingly. His long, thick fingers brushed against your skin, causing goosebumps to erupt all over your body, shiver running down your spine. Nicholas reached the bottom of your bare boobs, and a deep groan left his mouth when you arched into his touch.

"No bra?", he chuckled lowly, pulling away to look into your eyes. "You're such a slut. You were ready to jump into a random guy's bed, weren't you?".

You were unable to reply. Anger bubbled in your chest, your cheeks growing warm as you sent him a glare through your lashes.

"Says you. A literal definition of a man whore", you rolled your eyes, your nails raking down his shirt—covered chest. Nicholas' eyes hardened as he stared down at you, his hand on your hip tightening in an almost painful grip. His nails dig into your skin as he pulled you closer, his other hand pulling on the hem of your shirt to lift it up; your boobs spilling out of the tight fabric almost immediately.

You gasped when your overheated skin got exposed to the cold air. Your nipples hardened under Nicholas' dark eyes, and you watched as he run his tongue along his bottom lip, clearly impressed by the reaction he managed to get out of you. You fought the urge to wet your lips as you watched him, anticipation blooming deep in your stomach.

Nicholas' breath tickled your lips as he finally met your gaze again. He smirked down at you, somehow pressing you harder against the cool glass, the grip he had on your hip unforgiving.

"Yet you keep on coming back. Why the fuck do you keep on coming back?", he groaned against your lips, his hand finally meeting the soft skin of your breast. Nicholas watched as your back arched off the glass, your eyes threatening to close as he squeezed your boob harshly, the feeling of his palm against your nipple heavenly.

You stifled a whine that wanted to erupt from your throat. Instead, you gripped Nicholas' broad shoulders — your long, manicured nails digging into his skin as you desperately tried to maintain your composure. Your mouth parted, and a prolonged, desperate breath left you before you could stop it.

"I don't know", you swallowed loudly; your lips brushed against Nicholas' as you spoke, his eyes melting into yours with intensity that left you breathless. He chuckled, tilting his head slightly; a playful, teasing smile played on his lips as he tugged on your nipple with his forefinger and thumb, catching you off guard. You moaned, your whole body reacting to his all-too-familiar touch as a shiver run down your spine. Nicholas cursed under his breath, his bottom lip getting caught between his teeth as he carefully studied your face.

"You're not a good liar. Just admit it. You know I can make you feel better than anyone. You know you're mine. You know I'm yours, baby".

You let out a shaky breath you didn't realise you were holding, your eyes locking with his — the weight of the unspoken words heaved on your shoulders, making it impossible for you to think straight. You let your head fall back against the window as you desperately tried to put some distance between the two of you. The hand playing with your breast moved down your body, reaching the bottom of your thigh before he hooked your leg around his waist.

"Nicholas—", you choked out, your lashes fluttering as you looked up at him, your tongue darting out to wet your dry lips. He hummed lowly, squeezing the soft skin of your thigh before his hand slipped under the hem of your skirt.

"Tell me to leave, and I will", he whispered, his fingertips gently rubbing against your sensitive inner-thigh, once again making you gulp. "Say it, Y/N. What do you want?".

Nicholas shifted closer, his face now inches away from yours, his eyes boring into yours with intensity that made your breath hitch in your throat. You knew you should tell him to leave, to make him feel like he made you plenty of times before. Your voice died in your throat, and before you knew it, you were kissing him again.

You were tired of acting like you didn't want him. You were tired of the sleepless nights you spent thinking about this exact moment. Your hands moved down Nicholas' chest, slipping under his shirt to brush against his well-defined stomach. Your leg against his waist tightened, and so did Nicholas' grip on your thigh as he groaned into your mouth, his hips tightly pressed against your inner thigh.

"I want you, Nic. All of you. I want it so fucking bad it hurts", you breathed into his mouth before sucking his bottom lip lewdly, your hips rocking against his thigh securely pressed between your legs. You tugged on the hem of his shirt, silently asking Nicholas to take it off, and he obeyed. You barely broke the kiss as he lifted it over his head, throwing it onto the floor carelessly. You could feel the hardness of his erection press against your bare skin, the rough material of his jeans grinding against your thigh.

"Then take me", he groaned into your mouth, his voice filled with urgency. His hips snapped forward, experimentally grinding into your thigh, letting you feel just how ready he was for you. You mewled like a frightened kitten, the adrenaline pumping in your veins, your heart feeling as if it could jump out of your chest. Your body betrayed how you truly felt, your pelvis snapping towards Nicholas, as if you couldn't bare being away from him. "Claim me as yours for everyone else to see".

Your head was spinning, and his words didn't help with the burning sensation spreading across your stomach. The closer Nicholas' hand got to your clothed centre, the more your back arched off the window, your erect nipples rubbing against his bare chest. More moans slipped past your lips, and you didn't hold them back — you couldn't, even if you tried. With the little strength you had left, you pushed him back, leaving him no choice but to fall on your bed. It creaked in protest at Nicholas' weight, but he only chuckled, eyeing you up and down hungrily. He leaned back on his elbows, his feet dangling off the mattress as he patiently waited for your next move. His obedience was surprising — but not unpleasant. With a newfound confidence, you made your way towards him, your hair falling over your shoulders in a way that had Nicholas' breath hitch. His pupils were dilated, chest heaving as he inhaled sharply, watching you with a lopsided smile.

Slowly and teasingly, you pulled your top over your head, throwing it onto the ground, standing by the side of the bed now half-naked. A shiver run down your spine as Nicholas sat up, his face now centimetres away from your chest, his dark eyes staring up at you intensely.

"Take this off", he ordered, pointing towards your little skirt, his tone leaving no room to protest; not that you wanted to. Your hands were shaky as you hastily reached for the waistband of your skirt, looking down at him for approval — it was incredible how much power he held over you, even when you were on top, standing before him; towering over him. Slowly, you tugged on the zipper, feeling the fabric loosen against your waist before falling to the floor with a soft thump. Your heart raced in your chest as you stepped out of the skirt, leaving you almost fully exposed before Nicholas' hungry eyes.

In an instant, his hands were on you, as if he couldn't bare not touching you for a second longer. Your chest heaved with uneven breaths, your knees buckling as Nicholas' hands found place on your thighs, pulling you closer towards the edge of the bed. His eyes roamed down your body, taking in every single detail, that, in his eyes, made you perfect. He eyed the skimpy, black thong that covered your most intimate part, his eyes glimmering in the dim light, as if he couldn't believe you were real.

"You're so fucking hot", he groaned, tugging on the waistband of your underwear before letting it snap against your skin. You hissed, grounding yourself with your hands on his chiselled shoulders, uncontrollably moving closer towards him.

"Those fucking tits of yours," Nicholas groaned, throwing his head back dramatically, his hands moving down your sides only to rest on your hips. He licked his lips; his dark, penetrative eyes gazed right back at you, causing your chest to heave with uneven breaths. "They're perfect. You're perfect. And all mine, aren't you?" he growled, not once looking away from you as his tongue darted out, swirling around your left nipple with undeniable precision. You threw your head back, your back arching into his mouth, hearing Nicholas groan into your flesh. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pushing you plush against him as if he didn't need to breathe, as if he wanted to lose himself completely in you. He kissed the valley between your boobs, biting the sensitive skin there, his attentive eyes following your every reaction.

"Yours— All yours, Nick", you whined, words dying in your throat as his hands travelled down your back, over the curve of your ass, squeezing your buttcheeks roughly, pushing your pelvis towards him.

His nails dig into your skin, making you let out an involuntary moan, your fingers raking through his hair, toying with the soft strands.

"That's my girl", Nicholas' voice was filled with pride, and a prolonged sigh left his mouth, as if this moment was everything he dreamed about. His eyes looked up at you, filled with raw need, his pupils completely blown out, swallowing his irises fully. You gulped at the praise, looking down at him with flushed cheeks and pounding heart. Nicholas licked a long stripe up your sternum, leaving your skin burning and glistening under his hungry gaze.

Slowly and deliberately, his hands moved up and down your sides, caressing your soft skin with an almost gentle care, as if he tried to memorise how your flesh felt against his fingertips. His lips moved down your body, lingering on your ribs, leaving pecks as he went. The occasional glide of his tongue against your skin left you trembling, your knees bucking under the immerse pleasure as they hit the bed frame. Nicholas' big hands kept you upright, guiding you to straddle his lap, and you obediently did so. With your legs now on both sides of his thick thighs and with the flames licking your insides, you tugged on Nicholas' hair, tilting his head towards you, meeting his gaze with a small smile. His eyes were half-lidded, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed, the sting on his scalp only adding to his arousal. You could feel his cock press into your clothed centre, straining against his pants, practically begging to be freed. With a sly smile, you tested the waters, grinding your hips back and fourth against him, causing a small whine to escape from his throat.

"You're mine", you murmured, brushing your lips against his; just enough to feel the heat radiating off him, his eyes locking with yours as he nodded. You tutted, tugging on his strands tighter, "Nuh-uh. Not good enough. Say it".

Your voice left no room to protest. Nicholas gulped, his hands grounding you on his erection, pushing you down with enough force to make you hum. "I'm all yours, Y/N. Always had been", he inhaled sharply, bucking his hips up to meet you halfway. The connection between you was almost palpable, knocking the breath out of your lungs, causing your chest to heave with every sharp intake of breath. You've never felt more alive than then; on Nicholas' lap, with his attentive eyes on your face like you were the only one that mattered. You scratched the soft skin behind his ears, your thumbs rubbing soft circles onto his cheeks as you leaned down to kiss him again. This time, you took things slow, savouring the taste of him on the tip of your tongue, feeling his hands on your ass, guiding you to rut against his clothed arousal. Your moans were breathless and swallowed by Nicholas' mouth as he eagerly swirled his tongue around yours, one of his indecisive hands travelling up your back to tangle in your hair.

You were right where you were supposed to.

"Fuck me", Nicholas chuckled lowly as you pulled away, moving down to nib and kiss his defined jaw, feeling his soft stubble scratch your skin as you did. You grinned against his skin, pushing him down to make him lay flat on the bed, and he obeyed, taking you with him as he went. Your hair fell on your face as you towered over him, your palms flat on both sides of his head. Slowly and sensually, you leaned down, pushing your hair out of the way to press a lingering kiss on the side of Nicholas' neck. He groaned — the sound vibrated against your lips as you licked a stripe up his throat, biting the sensitive spot under his jaw that you knew made him squirm each time. Nicholas' hands guided you, pressing you flat against his chest with a tight grip on your ass, his hips snapping upwards in search of any kind of friction he could get. Your appreciative hums were muffled by his skin as you sucked, bit and kissed on every inch you could reach, slowly moving down towards his chest.

"Mark me up for everyone to see", Nicholas choked out, his grip on your ass almost painful, now, as he used it for leverage to grind his cock into your pussy. You moaned shamelessly at his words, feeling fireworks erupt in your stomach as the adrenaline took over. You flicked your tongue against his prominent collarbone, sucking hickeys into his tan skin, pressing kisses on every beauty mark adorning his chest you could find.

By the time you were satisfied with your work, Nicholas was a groaning mess underneath you. His spit-covered skin glistened under the city lights creeping into the room, the contours of his face even more prominent now. Purple marks adorned the sides of his neck, collarbones and the column of his throat — you felt a rush of joy fill your heart at the sight. The thought of him being so obviously marked by you made your heart race, and, with a satisfied smile, you gently run your fingertips over the love bites you left just below Nicholas' collarbone.

"Beautiful", you mumbled, tilting your head slightly, watching as a wide, dazed smile made its way onto Nicholas' face. You felt him throb underneath you, his patience slipping with every second; and, just as you thought about how good he was doing under your control, he flipped you over.

Your back hit the soft mattress, Nicholas' face inches away from yours as he crawled in between your legs, spreading them wider on both sides of his defined hips. His hands slowly travelled up your body, memorising each curve of your body; unrelenting gaze following every reaction he managed to get out of you. The feeling of his breath against your lips made you dizzy, and your back arched off the mattress in desperate search of friction that he wasn't granting you. Your nipples rubbed against his chest, and you clawed on his defined shoulders as his fingers towered over the waistband of your thong, just barely brushing over your sensitive skin.

An uninvited shudder ran down your spine as you met Nicholas' gaze again. He slid the thong down your legs, slowly, delicately, almost as if he was afraid he'd break you if he pressed too hard. Nicholas chuckled lowly, throwing your damp underwear on the floor with a little care, leaning back to look at your — now exposed — pussy.

One of his hands reached up, cupping your breast for a second, long enough to make you arch against him, before it moved up, wrapping around your throat. Nicholas' grip was firm and tight enough to make you deliciously lightheaded, and you gasped, feeling a strong sting on the side of your ass.

"Such a dirty fuckin' girl. You're soaking", he cooed, the previous softness in his gaze nowhere to be found. All you could see was the all consuming darkness and lust, drifting just below the surface, ready to be freed. "You've been dying to have my cock inside you, weren't you?".

You tried your best to nod, but it was nearly impossible when he pressed his thumb against your pulse point, sending you a dirty, open-mouthed smirk that made your stomach hurl. Another spank against the side of your ass, and your legs were tightening around Nicholas' hips, your own grinding into the air in search of any kind of relief.

He clicked his tongue, clearly enjoying the control he had over you. Your jaw was slack, every muscle in your body tense as you waited, obediently leaning down against the pillows, your limp arms falling on both sides of your head.

"Want me to make you feel good, baby?", he asked, grinning when you tried to nod again, his grip on your throat tightening just barely. White dots erupted in front of your eyes, your chest tightening due to the lack of air in your lungs, feeling as if you could pass out any second now. With the last ounce of power you had, you gripped Nicholas' forearm, your nails digging into his skin with enough force to leave marks. Your pussy clenched around nothing, practically begging to be touched, to be taken care of, your body now shaking in Nicholas' tight grasp.

You gasped abruptly as his hand loosened around your throat, finally giving you room to breathe. Instead, it travelled down your body, exploring every inch, every curve. Nicholas leaned down again just as his fingers brushed over your pussy — the touch feather-like, but enough to make you rasp for more.

"Nick", you choked out, reaching out for him, raking your nails down his back. Nicholas' other arm was outstretched beside your head, keeping him upright as he towered over you, once again leaning down to barely graze your bottom lip with his teeth. "Shit, I need you. Need you so bad".

Your voice came out strangled, but you didn't care; you weren't afraid to beg him for what you wanted. Any ounce of self-control left you whenever he was close, but you didn't mind. He set your insides on fire like no one else could.

When Nicholas licked his lips, smiling cruelly before pressing the two of his fingers against your clit, all you could do was gasp. He knew exactly what to do with his fingers and how to use them, circling your sensitive bud as if you were the only thing that mattered. He hissed through his teeth, clicking his tongue as your jaw dropped, brows furrowing as quiet moans escaped you.

"So wet f'me, fuck", he mused, his lips ghosting over your jaw just as two of his fingers slipped inside your tight hole. You cried out, nails digging into his forearm resting beside your head as it fell back against the sheets. You clenched around his digits as he pushed them as deep as they could go, burying them inside you; curling them upwards to get more sweet moans out of your swollen lips. Your eyes rolled back into your head, chest heaving with uneven breaths as Nicholas' breath tickled your ear, his teeth grazing your lobe teasingly. "So fuckin' tight. Just squeezing my fingers", he chuckled darkly. His voice sent shiver down your spine, and you found yourself reaching for him, your hands roaming over his chest, arms and shoulders as if you couldn't bear being away from him. The feeling of his fingers buried deep within your walls combined with the feeling of Nicholas' hard, muscular body on top of you was almost too much, and you were choking on your breath, almost embarrassed by how quickly he made you lose control.

That's when he started to pump his digits in and out of you, keeping his movements slow and steady, a memorable gasp leaving your throat every time his palm met your stiff clit. Your eyes were wide and glossy, mouth wide agape as you tried to speak, signal how good he made you feel; except that you didn't have to. Nicholas could see it, feel it, God, even hear it. The wet, squelching noise filled the silence as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, hitting that special spot that had you seeing stars, your thighs threatening to close around his forearm.

"Shit, Nick, oh my fucking God", you cried out just as your hips rose off the mattress, bucking into his hand greedily, as if you couldn't get enough. Nicholas chuckled, his breath warm against your skin as he trailed kisses down the side of your neck, his skilled tongue flicking against your collarbone teasingly.

"Yes, baby, you're doing so good f'me", he cooed, mouth moving up your body only to reconnect your lips hastily. You moaned into the kiss, barely able to kiss him back as your stomach tightened; his fingers working in and out of your cunt, his thumb rubbing tight circles on your clit. "Such a good fucking girl. You wanna cum f'me? Wanna soak my fucking hand, hmm? Fucking say it", he growled against your lips, leaning back just enough to wrap his free hand around your neck again. You gasped, barely able to obtain the whimpers that continued to leave your mouth, and you were already there—

"Wanna cum for you, want it s'bad", you choked out, meeting his demanding gaze with a hint of desperation in your own. You clenched down on his fingers, your walls throbbing as you wailed, back arching off the bed. "Shit, shit, shit! Please, let me cum, Nick—".

He smiled cruelly before pulling his fingers out of your tight cunt, your walls clamping down on them as if to prevent him from leaving. You cried out, tears brimming in the corner of your eyes as your stomach tightened, hips rising off the mattress in search of his addicting touch again — but to no avail.

"Not quite good enough, baby", he snarled, pulling you up by your neck, positioning you so that you could sit upright, now facing him. Before you could say something, beg him to please let you cum this time, he tapped two of his soaked fingers against your lower lip. "Suck. Let's see if I trained you well".

Your jaw went slack, eyes clouded with lust, and you obeyed, your tongue lolling out of your mouth to eagerly lap at his digits, tasting yourself. Nicholas chuckled, clearly amused by your obedience, pushing his fingers into your mouth, the hand on your neck loosening just slightly. You hollowed your cheeks, running your tongue in between his fingers, bobbing your head the same you'd do if it was his cock in your mouth. Without a second thought and clearly growing impatient, he thrusted all the way in until you choked on his fingers, moaning like a bitch in heat, whimpering and trying your best to breathe through your nose. You looked up at Nicholas through your lashes and you met his gaze, dark and filled with longing so strong it made your heart race.

With a satisfied smile, he pulled out — a string of saliva connecting you to his fingers, and you smacked your lips together, already toying with the waistband of his pants, impatient.

"How'd I do?", you panted, slowly pulling the fabric down Nicholas' legs, along with his black boxers, not once looking away from his face. His thumb brushed against your cheek in an almost loving manner, a gentle, sweet smile adoring his lips. The fire in his gaze made your head spin, and you slowly positioned him to lay down on the bed — and he did, not before throwing his underwear on the floor carelessly.

"Fuckin' perfect. Come on, sit on my face, baby", he groaned, and you couldn't help but bite back a whimper, staring at him all doe-eyed, blinking slowly. You obeyed, crawling up his body until you straddled his hard chest, your pussy clenching and unclenching at the sight underneath you. When you moved higher, he stopped you with a quick flick of his hand. "Nuh-uh. Turn around, baby. You're gonna suck my cock like a fuckin' whore you are, right?".

And so you did, nodding obediently. You clumsily straddled Nicholas' face, falling forward as his tongue licked a stripe from the clit to your tight hole immediately. He didn't wait a second, grabbing your ass tightly to push you down onto his face as if he didn't need to breathe, as if he was starved and you were the only one that could satisfy his hunger. Your hips rocked down onto his face, your shaky hands already reaching out to wrap around his reddened cock, your mouth watering at the sight of it alone.

Nicholas groaned, hips bucking into your face as you hastily run your tongue against his tip, humming when the taste of his salty pre-cum flooded your senses. You took him into your mouth, not hesitating before working down his shaft, costing him in your saliva, your hand stroking the part of him you couldn't put in your mouth yet. Nicholas' needy whines and moans were muffled by your pussy as he squeezed your ass, lazily circling your clit with his tongue, manoeuvring between long, slow licks and quick, steady strokes. Your eyes watered, and it didn't take long to feel your stomach tighten. You abruptly pulled away from his cock, instead focusing on jerking him off the best you could while grinding down onto his face, head thrown back in ecstasy.

"Oh my fucking— Nick, I'm so close, can I cum f'you, please? Been so good f'you", you choked out as you felt your thighs shake around Nicholas' head, your grip on his cock tightening just enough to make Nicholas groan into your cunt. The vibrations sent a shiver down your spine, and as much as you didn't want to suffocate him, you also couldn't stop the desperate bucking of your hips. Your breaths came out short and ragged, eyes squeezed shut as the tip of his tongue teased your clenching, leaking hole, eagerly lapping everything you offered him.

Nicholas pulled back just enough to breathe for a second. One of his hands travelled up your ass, lingering on your back before tangling in your hair, roughly pushing your head down.

"If you wanna cum, you're gonna do it while I fuck your face— how's that sound? Hmm?", he mumbled, and you nodded, eager as ever, already lining his cock up to the level of your lips, your tongue lolling out of your mouth only to dip it into his sensitive slit. A shudder run down your spine when he moaned into you, the hand in your hair tightening just barely to assert his dominance over you. His hips began to buck into your awaiting mouth, and you hummed lowly, wrapping your lips against his thick head, swirling your tongue just the way you knew he liked it. The taste of him, combined with his lips now beginning to continue their assault on your puffy cunt, had you seeing stars in no time. Nicholas flicked his tongue over your little nub just the way he knew you liked it, and you couldn't help but rock your hips in the rhythm of his mouth moving on you. Tears bricked in the corners of your eyes as your throat contracted around his tip, your tongue constantly rubbing against the underside of his cock; his breathy groans from underneath you only spurred you on.

"Cum for me, baby", Nicholas whispered, holding you in place as he bucked into your mouth, his eyes rolling back into his head when you swallowed and choked on his impressive length resting in your throat as if it belonged here. His grip on you was tight, bruising, and if it wasn't for the fireworks erupting in your lower belly, you'd probably cry out in pain. Saliva and pre-cum dropped down your chin, but you couldn't care less, as your back arched, hips moving mindlessly against Nicholas' face as much as they could. Your little, pathetic moans and whimpers were muffled by his cock as you came, shaking in Nicholas' tight grip, your nails digging into his thighs, leaving crescent marks in their wake.

It was earth-shattering, and for a moment you thought as if you might've passed out. Nicholas lapped everything you offered him eagerly, overstimulating your already spent pussy as he pressed soft kisses all over your mound. You pulled away from his cock, a string of saliva stretching between your lower lip and the reddened, leaking tip. As much as you wanted to make him cum, too, your whole body protested, and you fell back against the sheets limply. A broken sob escaped your mouth as you struggled to catch your breath, eyes and legs squeezed shut.

Nicholas wasn't having any of it, though. Before you knew it, he slipped in between your legs, his muscular body resting on top of you as if to prevent you from slipping away. One of his hands cradled your face, his thumb brushing against your burning skin in an almost soothing manner. You looked up at him through your lashes, meeting his dark gaze immediately. The intensity between you seemed to grow with each passing second, and you found yourself reaching for him, pulling him down just so that he could kiss you.

You tasted yourself on Nicholas' lips, whimpering into his mouth when his hardness brushed against your lower stomach, big and ever so needy. Your hands were in Nicholas' hair, pulling on the soft strands, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. You had no idea how much you missed this, missed him, until he was so close to you again. Your back arched into his body as he moved to lift your thigh up his body, securing it on his waist, his tongue toying with yours in a way that had your head spin.

"Fucking look at you", he rasped lowly, gripping the base of his cock to rub himself up and down your wetness, coating himself in your sweet juices. You clenched around nothing, biting your lip hard enough to draw blood, the tension in your stomach building up the more time passed. "My needy, perfect girl. You're gonna fucking take it, yeah? I know you will".

You mindlessly nodded, and Nicholas chuckled, clearly amused by your fucked-up state — and he barely even started. Without a warning, he slipped into your wet, inviting hole, bottoming out almost instantly. He had no patience to take it slow anymore, consumed by the pure need running through his veins. Encouraged by the soft mewl that left your swollen lips, he began pounding into you, pressing one of your legs into the mattress to have you all spread out for him.

"Shit, Nic — God, you're so fucking big", you choked out, your nails digging into Nicholas' chest, leaving red marks in their wake. He met your gaze, sending you his typical, open-mouthed smirk that had your eyes rolling back.

Nicholas grabbed your jaw, forcing you to keep your gaze on him as he adjusted his position, just so that his lower abdomen brushed against your clit every time he bottomed out. Every now and then, he'd stop, grinding his hips against yours to let you feel all of him. You choked on your breath, unable to break the eye contact, your jaw slightly agape as his name left your mouth like a prayer. Your thighs shook where he had you pinned to the bed, your core clenching around him as if to prevent him from leaving. His cock dragged against your walls, and Nicholas made sure you could feel every vein, every throb, every delicious inch of it rearranging your insides. It didn't take long for the coil in your stomach to tighten yet again. You sobbed, feeling the saltiness of your own tears lingering in the corner of your lips. Throwing your head back, your hips bucked up to meet Nicholas halfway; your wide, glossy eyes focused on his face — on the way his jaw dropped, brows furrowed, his dark gaze burning into yours with intensity that left you shaking.

"You look s'pretty, drunk on my fucking cock. You're perfect. My perfect girl", Nicholas cooed, groping your boob tightly, pounding into you as if you were nothing more than his personal toy.

And you loved every second of it.

Your bottom lip trembled as you bit on it, desperately trying to conceal the pathetic sounds that threatened to leave your throat with every brutal thrust. Nicholas pinched your nipple between his fingers, throwing his head back and groaning deeply. The sound alone made you gush around him, your orgasm beginning to overtake you, and you weren't sure if you'd be able to hold it even if he asked you to.

"Nick, I'm— Oh, fuck — I'm gonna cum, please, can I cum f'you?", you managed to choke out, pulling him closer, your hands clasping down on his broad shoulders for balance. Nicholas chuckled breathlessly, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You felt him twitch against your walls, signalling that he was close as well, holding out just for you.

"Shit, baby, you're gonna make me cum already", he groaned, partially amazed, but not surprised. "You're gonna cum with me, baby— I'm gonna pump you full of my cum, yeah? Oh, you fucking love it", he laughed breathlessly, feeling you clench around him at the promise in his words. It was utterly possessive, the way his voice trembled, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he neared the all familiar edge. And you weren't far behind.

"You're mine. You're fucking mine, baby. I'm never letting you go", he muttered lowly before stilling inside you, making you groan in disappointment. "Turn around".

You obeyed, letting his cock plop out of your cunt for a spare second before you turned around on shaky legs. Nicholas' rough hand pressed on your lower back, arching you for him, your ass now on full display for his greedy eyes. Before you knew it, he was already back inside you, setting a rough, earth-shattering pace that had you clutching on the sheets. A strangled, broken sob left your mouth, and Nicholas moaned lowly, watching the way your backside snapped against his hips with each thrust. With one of his hands on your hip and the other tangled in your hair, Nicholas pulled you flush against him, your back meeting his hard chest. The sound of skin slapping, punctuated by your cries and Nicholas' low groans filled the room, so familiar; so addicting.

"Open your mouth f'me, baby, c'mon", he urged, and you obeyed, your head resting against his shoulder as he wrapped his arms securely around your waist, keeping you upright. Your tongue lolled out of your mouth as you stared up at him, wide eyed, mascara smudged over your flushed cheeks, neck covered with hickeys of his creation. With a throaty groan, he spat in your mouth, making sure your eyes stayed locked on his as he did. "Swallow".

So you did. Your legs trembled as you neared your peak again, your back arching off his chest just as one of his hands travelled down your body, squeezing your left buttock roughly. Nicholas' touch was so addicting; you nearly screamed in pleasure when he spanked you, once, twice, thrice. He made sure to claim you in every way possible, to make sure you'd never look in the direction of another man ever again.

Your orgasm hit you without a warning. You fell forward, burying your face in the sheets as you screamed, creaming all over Nicholas' cock, going limp in his grasp. He moaned shamelessly, watching the way your juices created a creamy ring around the base of his cock. The sight alone made his muscles clench, thrusts becoming sloppy as he gripped your hips, his head thrown back in ecstasy.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! — Oh my God, yes", he whimpered lowly, bottoming out before letting go; spurts of his hot, sticky cum claiming your walls, his cock pulsing and throbbing inside you making you moan into the sheets. You grinded back the best you could, milking him of everything he had to offer, and God — even he could feel how much he filled you up.

Nicholas collapsed on top of you, and you welcomed the familiar weight of his body pressing against yours. You were shaking, your breaths coming out in short, uneven gasps, the sheets beneath you soaked with tears that couldn't seem to stop flowing. The weight of your actions rested on your shoulders as you became to come down from the high. You had hoped he wouldn't leave this time — the thought itself made your heart ache, your throat burning with the words you wished you had the courage to say to him.

"Shh. C'mere, baby", Nicholas' soothing voice reached your ear as he kissed the back of your neck softly, his breath tickling your skin. You winced when he slowly pulled out of your drenched hole, not giving you a second to think before he leaned against the headboard, pulling you to lay on his chest. You sniffled, pushing your face into his bicep, inhaling the familiar scent of his. "I'm sorry. I didn't know— I just hoped you'd notice me. It's so complicated, Y/N. I don't want to ruin everything we have".

The words made you sniffle into his skin, pulling him closer as if you didn't want him to leave — and, in fact, it was true. You bit your lip, thinking about everything you've been through together; the longing you felt for him almost making your heart burst.

"I love you, Nick. I love you so bad it hurts. It's okay if you want to leave, I broke a rule, and I didn't—"

"Stop, Y/N. Stop", he interrupted, cradling your cheek softly, tilting your head so that you could meet his gaze. Your lower lip trembled when Nicholas' thumb rubbed circles into your skin, somehow making your muscles relax against him. "I love you. You hear me? I. Love. You. I want to be with you. Wake up by your side every day, fall asleep with you in my arms. Fuck, I could never want anything more", he whispered, and your heart fluttered in your chest, your jaw dropping as you searched for any kind of hesitation on his face. You didn't find any.

You sniffled again, letting out a relieved sigh; the weight on your heart seemed to finally fall into the dark abyss, replaced with relief so strong it almost made you sob.

"Let me take care of you now", Nicholas whispered, giving you space to rest, let his previous words sink in, smiling down at you with the all familiar warmth — and it felt like home, for the first time in a long time. "Should we search romantic comedies on Netflix and see what we find?".

You couldn't help but chuckle softly, kissing the side of his neck lovingly. Nicholas' hand found yours, his fingers intertwining with yours as if you were meant to be.

And maybe you were.

Just two souls, so utterly different; but they wouldn't be able to function without each other.

❝ hoffmansgirl © 2025 | do not copy, translate, recreate or plagiarise my content. 𝗡𝗜𝗖𝗛𝗢𝗟𝗔𝗦 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗩𝗘𝗭 𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 ❞

tags (click here to be added): @darlingnikkisixxxx @titsout4jackles @brlwla @blackynsupremacy @mrs-riddlexo @essentialwriter @nicholaschavezslut69 @niteskysx @emluvsuxo @nicholaslut @greengoblinswifey @sin-deciric @onlyangelicc @urlitttlevenicebitch @violetidk @motherismotheringggg @c-cobweb @rosetintmworld @iamsebastiansstan @chr0nicradness

[ggirlthatgotaway]

Not Cold Any Longer (modern au)

summary: Aemond is that guy you’ve known since you were kids, the one you’ve never talked to and that had gotten fucking weird. But you end up becoming friends, and you find out that not only he’s right about your shit boyfriend, but also that he’s a fucking ride that can keep you boiling hot all the time.

trigger warning: explicit language, mention of useless men, mention of Franz Ferdinand, sexual content, name calling, choking, slapping, loving, maybe other things.

word count: 6.2k

note: Aemond is not hotd-Aemond but the FontainesDC-hottie-freak (fuck me<3) . also english is my 3rd language and i haven’t written a complete smut since i was 13 (read, don’t judge) so yeah do tell me what you think

-💎

The cold air of the night was hitting your face, and it stung your skin despite your best efforts to hide it in the collar of your jacket. You didn’t want to go back home, you wanted to keep walking, to go to him.

From your house to his, there was a six-minute drive, which meant a forty-five-minute walk for someone who walked quickly. Perfect, you thought to yourself as you glanced around the dark street, not a sound to be heard.

Your mind raced back to earlier that day, to the reason why you were walking to his house. His words replayed in your mind over and over: “Don’t you fuckin’ understand?! Really?” he had shouted, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open, but a hint of sadness was lacing them. He had tried to hide it, as always, like the rest of his emotions.

He had already told you that you were able to understand him despite his precautions- “I don’t fancy how ye keep readin’ me mind, love.” he had said with a soft grin and happy eyes. But that was a completely different circumstance; it was something light, about why he had started inviting you to gigs instead of bringing his friend, Sal.

Anyway, him telling you that you didn’t understand had your heart twisting in pain, both when those words had left his mouth and when you thought about them again.

He had gotten angry because of what you’d told him had happened with Ed, your boyfriend. His eyes had widened when you told him he’d left you waiting for an hour yesterday, because he ‘got distracted with his friends, and forgot to pick you up from your shift’. It was your anniversary.

But that wasn’t why Aemond had shouted to you that you didn’t understand- that came after. Earlier today, your phone had rang with his call: he had told you he was nearby, that his Ma had asked him to buy some bread before leaving for her shift, and if you minded if he stayed over a bit.

Spending time with him had become the highlight of your day recently, so a smile had curved your lips as you told him yes. He had arrived with a CD in his hands, “I know you like this shit.” he told you then, showing you the new album by Franz Ferdinand you had been planning to buy for weeks now.

You had gasped, and started covering his cheeks with kisses despite his half-hearted efforts to get away from your grip- half-hearted because his arm had already sneaked to hold your waist. “You’re mental.” you had told him with wide eyes, but he had just tutted and shrugged, leaving the CD on your desk and throwing himself on your bed.

“How did it go with the eejit?” he had asked you then, referring to Ed and your anniversary. His arm had been covering his eyes, but he took it away and looked at you when you hadn’t answered. “What did he do?” he had asked with a sigh.

You had briefly glanced at him before letting your gaze fall on the white and burgundy sheets of your bed. He wasn’t one who let go of this kind of things- not with you, at least- and you had known an answer was necessary if you weren’t planning on having him shut up and stare into your eyes for three hours.

So you had sighed heavily and brought your eyes back on his, “He didn’t show up.”

At your words, he had looked like he had stopped breathing. Then, he’d sunken his teeth into his lips, closed his eyes and let out a low and deep breath. “You’re aware he’s still breathing because you want him to?”

His eyes had opened again, and he’d directed them to you, waiting for your answer. When you’d nodded, he had continued: “Changed your mind?” he’d asked you, his tone slightly pleading, with a hint of hope. But you’d shaken your head.

You had seen his eyes closing again, and he’s let out another deep breath. “What did you do, then?”

“I walked.”

Silence had filled the air between you two once again, until he’d straightened up and sat on the edge of your bed. He had ran a hand on his face and settled his elbows on his knees, “You walked… Didn’t call me?”

“It’s just a ten minute walk.” you had tried to explain with a shake of your head, but he had stopped you.

“And now your throat aches.”

You had bitten the inside of your cheek at that. You were always cold, always wore two pairs of trousers to go to school, always had as many blankets as possible on your bed. Aemond knew, and each time you stepped foot into his house he had the kettle on, and the blanket that held the most warmth was folded and waiting on the couch, and he asked you right away if you wanted that ugly but incredibly warm sweater he never wore.

“It doesn’t.” you had told him, and it was true, because you were still healing from the last time you had the flue, and your antibodies were still strong.

“Mh.” he had said, nodding. You had never seen anger simmering quite as much as it did in him in that moment. “Why don’t you fucking leave him, mh? Still fuckin’ think he deserves you?” he had said, his voice rising at every word. “I’m genuinely curious, love- tell me.”

“Aemond…” you had said, interrupting yourself with a sigh. He had got up from the bed and walked over to the window, leaning his hands on the ledge. “I like him when he’s with me.”

“Well, that’s a fucking pathetic thing to say.” he had told you before turning around, his eyes as hard as ice, “That’s because you can’t find a bloody nice thing to say ‘bout him.”

“He’s still me boyfriend, though-“ you had tried to say before his shouts filled the room.

“And he shouldn’t fuckin’ be! It’s your fault he still is,” he had said, pointing a finger in your direction, “and it makes me fucking mental just thinking about it.”

“Then don’t, Aemond! It’s none of your fucking business!” you had tried to retort, but you had told it to yourself how daft your words had sounded, since it was Aemond the one always available to listen to you yap about how shite Ed made you feel while barely containing tears in your eyes.

“Shut up, don’t even fucking play this card with me!” he had yelled at you before taking a deep breath and pushing his black hair out of his face. That still hadn’t tamed the tone of his voice when he’d spoken again, “Don’t you fuckin’ understand?! Really?!” his eyes had been wide as he looked at you with a hint of desperation in hie voice, a hand held out to you in hope.

But your brows had furrowed, and your eyes had expressed nothing but confusion as you’d looked at him.

His hand had fallen and slapped his thigh, “Leave him, or don’t fucking talk to me again.”

He had walked away then, leaving you with wide eyes and the security that those words weren’t what he had been thinking about when he had told you that you didn’t understand.

And you admitted it to yourself as you walked to Aemond’s house at midnight, with the freezing cold of February seeping into your bones, that you might have waited a bit much to act on whatever you needed to act on.

But you did pat yourself on the shoulder for the strong punch you’d landed on Ed’s nose about an hour ago- which, in all honesty, was something you’d learnt from Aemond and the lessons he gave you so you could ‘have a wee chance to survive if they attacked you on the street’, if someone was to say it with his words.

After you had exited Ed’s house, a mischievous grin plastered on your lips, your thoughts had gone to Aemond right away, thinking about his laugh when you would have told him what you’d done. Your smile had fallen.

But it was fine, you told yourself as you walked faster in the dark night, because you were going to fix everything.

The truth was, you had never felt quite as empty as you did when Aemond had left your room that evening. And you had already known there that you needed to go to Ed’s and leave him- which you realised hurt your hand way more than it did your heart.

Aemond was right. Fucking Aemond Targaryen, the lad that wanted to talk to nobody at school except for you and Sal Quinn, the one that wanted no glimpse of a relationship, was right.

You needed to walk faster.

You took out your phone and flipped it open, pondering on whether or not to call him and ask him to pick you up on the street where Mae Allbrook lived. Realising that would have needed to stay still for at least three minutes as you waited for him, you flipped your phone closed and put it back into the pocket of your jeans.

You definitely didn’t do it because Aemond would have screamed at you for the entire ride back to his house- or better yet, for the ride and for the ten minutes he’d spend heating your hands up by rubbing them between his.

No, it was better to make your grand entrance at his house and have him freak out there, while you sat in front of the fire in his living room.

You let out a sigh when you saw the old, ruined red car, weakly lit by the nearby light pole. You almost ran to the door and jumped over the low gate, before taking out your phone again.

“Aemond,” you said when he answered. You heard the sigh he let out, and you understood how affected he, too, was about what had happened earlier that day. “I’m outside.”

He didn’t close the call after those words left your mouth, but you heard a stomp, and understood that he hadn’t even closed the call before launching himself off his bed and running downstairs.

The front door swung open in front of you, making your hair fly in front of your face. He didn’t wait for you to step inside, deciding instead to take matters into his own hands and grab your jacket to pull you in roughly.

Before you knew, he was muttering to himself behind you, his hands passing over your thighs over and over to heat them up. “You feel your hands yet?” he asked gruffly, not even trying to hide how he still remembered your last conversation word by word.

You nodded and said, “I’m not that cold.” but he tutted and shook his head, not believing a word. “Care to tell me the fuck you’re doing?” he finally asked.

“Apologising.” you answered after some seconds, slightly distracted by the way his wide palms transferred heat into the skin of your thighs. “You were right.”

You turned your head to look at him behind you, and he let out a sigh, stilling his movements and leaving his hands on the top of your legs. He threatened to move them to your hips, his movements slow and unsure, before his warm palms left your body and he got up on his feet, making you look at him from the floor, “I’m tired. Tell me if I have to bring you home or you crash here.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, getting up from the floor and grabbing your own arm with a hand. “Can I stay over?”

You saw the hesitation in his eyes as they met yours, but then he nodded towards the stairs, and you followed him to his room.

“Change.” he told you with an assertive tone once you reached his room, putting a hand in his wardrobe and throwing that ugly sweater and a pair of sweatpants at you.

You pressed your lips together to stifle a grin at his annoyed actions. But as you went to the bathroom to change, you couldn’t help but think about what his expression would be like when you finally told him.

His room was always quite dark and warm, and the dim light that came from the tank he kept Vhagar in made everything seem blue.

You approached him slowly, nibbling at the skin inside your lower lip as his eyes went from the ash tray set on his nightstand to you.

You could see the smoke of his Benson and Hedges coming out of his nose and going upwards. “Come here.” he said then, slightly defeated, but only half-heartedly.

So you climbed onto his bed and he reached out with a hand to touch your waist. “Still cold…” he muttered to himself before deciding to bring you closer to him.

He put off his cigarette on the ashtray and held you with his arms wrapped around you, a hand on the curve of your hip. “I’m sorry.” you told him, looking in his blue eyes you couldn’t quite see.

He didn’t say anything about your apology, but you felt his hand twitch on your hip. “What did you think you were doing, walking alone at this time?”

His features were lightened by those soft blue hues, making the sharp angles of his face even more so. You raised your hand and trailed your finger on his cheekbone. His skin was hot, and you felt him stop breathing at your touch. Your hand dropped back on the bed, “I left him.”

You started to worry when you didn’t see him starting to breathe again, but then he talked, “You’re not lying?”

When you shook your head in no, his hand tightened on your hip drastically. “Fuckin’ finally.” he said, letting out a deep breath. “What did he do?”

“Nothing,” you said with a shrug, “He just sat there, holding his nose after I punched him.”

You saw Aemond’s eyes widen, and the corners of his mouth curled up until they formed a wide grin. He started laughing, his chest shaking as he shook his head. “Wonderful woman…” he muttered, leaning his mouth on your shoulder, making goosebumps spread wildly on your skin.

He started caressing your hip then, going dangerously close to your arse as he always did. But still, what you felt was a deep sense of peace there: at his house, in his arms, surrounded by the smell of smoke and green tea that clung to his skin.

You’d known each other since you were kids, since way before he had started dying his hair black and got into the metal music he had definitely been listening to before you called him.

But you had never really talked until four months ago. You had your friends, he had his, all outside of school, and you both had never bothered trying to talk. It had all changed in a matter of days after an English Literature project.

It felt weird when you thought about it, trusting someone the way you did him after so few time, even if you’d known him for ever, because you’d never really talked.

“You know I love you, right?” you said then. It was out of the blue, really, but you couldn’t help it.

Those three words seemed to hit him more than you intended them to. He paused the movement of his hand on your hips and cleared his throat, straightening himself slightly. He still didn’t answer, though, but simply sighed and left a kiss on your forehead.

“I don’t care about you saying it back: I just want you to know I love you.” you said hurriedly but calmly, distancing yourself slightly to look at him, finally able to do it properly since your eyes adjusted to the dark.

He let out a snorted laugh at your words, and shook his head. “D’you think I don’t love you?” he asked you, his voice low and husky. His grip on your hip tugged you close so you were sitting on top of him, “That’s not the problem, princess.”

“I don’t understand-“ you tried to argue, but he laughed again, interrupting you.

“You do, love… You do.” he said before leaning close to your ear. His nose brushed against your earlobe, his lips against your jaw as his breath ghosted your skin and he murmured lowly, “You got me wrapped around your finger... Got me doing whatever you want me to.”

Your breath caught in your throat. Your hand was gripping his shoulder and your nails were definitely digging in his skin through his sweater, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“And now…” he whispered , interrupting himself to let out an unironic laugh and shaking his head. “Now you’re sitting on my lap, pretending not to notice how fucking hard my cock is for you.”

You were breathing fast, so fast you felt the blood pumping in your ears, and his words did nothing to quell that. His smirk remained on his lips as he brought his cold blue eyes back to yours.

He tilted his head to the side, a strand of his dark, dyed hair falling over his eyes. “What do you plan on doing about it, then?” he asked, the teasing tone still present. But the way his eyes darkened, the way his grip on your hip tightened, told a different story.

Was it real what he’d said? That he loved you, craved you so much that his cock was rock hard after barely five minutes of you sitting on him?

“About…” you said, pressing your lips together, trying to gather the courage to complete the sentence. You found it when the corner of his mouth quirked up again and both his hands found their way to your arse, squeezing it and pulling you flush against him. The action made you let out a small sigh, but you decided not to let yourself fear him, so you raised a hand and brought the strand of black hair away from his face. “What do I plan on doing about your cock?” you said in a whisper.

His mouth curved into a smirk and he breathed out another laugh due to your words. He was usually the dirty one, even if you still didn’t exactly know how dirty he was. “Yeah, ‘bout that…” he confirmed with two slight nods of his head. “Now that you’re fully aware of what you do to me.” he added, letting out a deep breath.

One hand remained firm on your arse, keeping you right where he wanted you, while the other moved up to your face. He traced the line of your jaw with his thumb, feeling the softness of your skin and the pulse quickening beneath it. In that moment, all the cold you had felt as you had walked to his house for forty minutes was completely forgotten, disappeared in your mind like ash after a breath.

“What do you think I should do?” you asked, swallowing harshly. You suddenly felt stupid for the question, and you did even more when he snorted out another laugh.

He leaned forward, his lips dangerously close to your ear. "Why don't ye use your imagination, Princess?" he whispered huskily. The hand on your face slid back, cupping your cheek as his thumb continued to brush against your lower lip.

“Okay…” you whispered out in a breath as you nodded. Then you slowly leaned into the brief distance that separated you two, brushing your lips against his before pressing them into a kiss.

It was rushed, definitely stupid, but you wanted to try and see how it felt. His lips had always looked rough to you, chipped and bloodied in winter, but now, against yours, they were soft, boiling hot, sweet and incredibly inviting.

His hand tightened its grip on your arse, pulling you even closer to his body as his other hand tangled itself in your hair, angling your head for better access to your mouth.

His kiss was even gentle, which surprised you, but more than anything it made you want more. When his grip on your hair tightened and pulled on it just enough to make you wet but not enough to hurt excessively, a moan came up your throat and overturned into his mouth.

He pulled away before capturing your lower lip between his teeth and letting it go. His hand slapped your arse, making you jolt forward and making him laugh. “Slut.” he muttered, closing the distance between you two again.

You let out a chuckle against his lips, and started grinding your hips against his. Right away, he groaned and pulled you closer still, eagerly helping you with your movements.

His other hand moved from your cheek to your neck, fingers gripping gently but firmly. "Is that what you want, princess?" he growled, breaking the kiss briefly to let you breathe. His eyes bore into yours, dark with lust. "You want to feel me inside you?" he asked, voice strained and husky.

You were slightly startled by his hand around your throat, by his thumb stroking your pulse point like it was the most fragile and precious thing in his world. You bit your lower lip and your hands wrapped around the wrist of the hand that was holding you, which made his lips part in what looked like feral hunger, before nodding.

Your response was everything he needed to hear. His hand on your neck tightened slightly as he claimed your mouth once more, kissing you harder. His hips thrust upward, pushing his erection against your core, as if to emphasize his words. He let go of your hair, his hand trailing down your back until it reached your waist.

His lips moved from your mouth to your jaw, nipping at your skin before tracing a scorching path down to your neck. He loved the way you moaned when he bit you there, and he did so again, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. "Fuck…" he breathed against your skin, his fingers digging into your waist. He seemed to need to feel you, to make sure this whole thing was real. "Use your words, Princess."

A whine escaped your lips before you were able to reply, and you felt completely daft other then drenched between your thighs. “Yes,” you said, your words like a plea, “I want you inside of me.”

His eyes bore in yours for two seconds before he pushed you off him, making you land on your hands on the mattress. He pulled himself up, standing on his knees on the bed, “Take your clothes off.” he ordered with a nod of his head as he stared down at you, his tone leaving no space for arguing.

With a heavy chest, mouth parted and eyes wide, you complied. You unzipped his black jumper, trying not to be clumsy as you slipped it off your arms.

Still, Aemond seemed unable to wait, because he quickly threw the jumper off the bed before his fingers found the bow you tied to the string of his sweatpants.

He undid it as you took your shirt off. “How many fuckin’ pair of trousers you’ve got on?!” he growled, both bothered and amused when he found a pair of leggings under the sweats.

You let out a chuckle as he did the same, shaking his head as he pulled the first layer of fabric off roughly, before doing the same with the second.

He stopped when you were left with only your underwear, and he stared bluntly, pressing his lips together as his chest raised and fell heavily.

You moved your right leg to brush its calf against his clothed thigh, your eyes on his. His hissed in a breath, his hand gripping your thigh like he wanted to rip off the meat to eat it. “It’s your turn.” you whispered as you let your leg wander higher.

The action gained you his grip to tighten and a slap to be delivered to your thigh. But he complied, pulling his t-shirt off from the collar and blindly throwing it somewhere before pulling down his trousers.

He put a hand on your knee and settled between your thighs, crushing his mouth against yours once again. The roughness of Aemond's touch sent sparks flying across your skin, igniting a fire within you that burned out of control. He pressed you further into the mattress, his body aligning perfectly with yours. You could feel every inch of his bare torso, each ripple of muscle and scar, his heat enveloping you like a living flame.

His grip on your thigh loosened and his fingers went up until they reached you inner thigh, teasing you as if he wasn’t dying for it. You whined against his mouth, squirming under his touch.

He chuckled against your mouth, and he gave into your desires in a matter of seconds, sliding his hand inside your drenched knickers and exploring your folds. He breathed heavily on your wet lips after he had to break the kiss. He looked at you as he slipped a finger inside, and watched intently as your face contorted in pleasure.

“Think, Princess…” he drawled, his lips brushing against yours before doing the same on your cheek. He added another finger, making you let out a moan. “Think of each touch I give you tonight…”

He stopped his movements temporarily, taking his fingers out and making you gasp, to grab the sides of your knickers and pull them down and off roughly.

His mouth reached your neck while his fingers found your cunt once again, entering you in such a beautiful way your eyes rolled back. He started pumping his fingers in and out roughly, making your breath catch in your throat before it came out in a broken scream.

“Think of this, and then back at that fuckin’ halfwit that you let inside this beautiful cunt.”

Your wetness was completely coating his fingers at that point, and he seemed to enjoy it like nothing else, or so it seemed as you looked at him through half-closed eyelids.

He continued his assault, his thumb pressing against your clit, rubbing circular motions on it, as his lips left kisses, hot and wet, on the skin of your neck. They made you remember how his hand felt wrapped around your throat, and you found yourself craving it once again.

The memory and the sensations he was giving you only fuelled your wetness, and your orgasm drew closer. “Aemond…” you breathed out, your cunt clenching desperately around his fingers.

Just as if he was reading your mind, his lips left the soft skin of your neck to leave space for his free hand. You let out an embarrassing whimper when his fingers wrapped securely under your jaw.

“I think you’re liking it too much…” Aemond groaned, his voice husky and gravel as his fingers worked restlessly inside your pussy. “I should stop.”

Your hand found the wrist of the hand that was holding your neck when those words left his mouth, and you let out an irritated moan, kicking his side with a trembling leg.

He let out a small laugh, his pupils so dilated that his eyes appeared black. Aemond’s fingers went faster, making you let out a strangled yell as your eyes stayed fixed on his.

Your legs threatened to close, but he avoided it by getting closer, his breath now ghosting over your face. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” he groaned, crushing your lips against his as your pussy spasmed around his long fingers.

He kept them there after you climaxed, slowing the movements of his fingers progressively before sliding them out. He brought them to his lips like an instinctive motion.

He groaned at the sight of your flushed face, your eyes glazed with pleasure, and the way your body still trembled from the orgasm he'd given you, and definitely even for the taste of you he was licking from his fingers. You bet he loved reducing you to this state - wanting, needing, begging for him.

"Fuck," he breathed out, getting off the bed and taking off his boxers. His cock was hard, veiny, and you found yourself thinking of it inside you, stretching you out while you felt every singe thing he wished you to.

He opened the drawer of the nightstand and pulled out a condom, opening the plastic with his teeth and discarding both the useless pieces carelessly on the floor. He slid it on, barely looking at what he was doing before he nodded at you, “Take that shit off.”

You furrowed your brows and looked down, noticing you still had your bra on. You were still breathing heavily, but you quickly did as he’d asked.

He moved back on the bed, the mattress sinking under his weight as he approached you with hunger. He was like a madman- you had never seen him like this before.

He kissed you again, hooking his hand under your right knee and folding its leg over the other. It provided him with the perfect view of your ass and face, and it seemed to be the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen as he broke the kiss to take a look at you.

One hand found the top of your thigh while he used the other to hold himself up on the mattress. He leaned down and wrapped his lips around your nipple, making your hand fly to his hair and a gasp escape your throat.

His hand left your thigh and went to his cock, guiding it to your pussy. He teased your already tender flesh with his tip, making you both groan.

His mouth disclosed around your nipple and he lied his forehead against your shoulder. “Fuck…” he breathed out once again, shaking his head before straightening up.

His hand went back to your thigh, and he ground himself against you. His head rolled back and his eyes closed at the contact, his mouth fell agape.

And you, with his cock almost inside you and his hand pinning your body to his will, couldn’t help but look at him: at the sweat that clung to his body, at his long hair you craved to pull, at his fingers that had just made you cum like nobody ever did.

When he opened his eyes again, they locked on yours right away, staring down at you. Then, he thrust inside you in one, swift and steady motion, filling you up with his cock just like you wanted him to. You weren’t cold any longer.

You didn’t try to conceal the scream if pure pleasure that escaped your lips at his motion, and he didn’t hide his. “Shit, Aemond!” you moaned, brows furrowed as you looked up at him.

“Don’t look at me like that…” he grunted, punctuating his phrase with a thrust, making your body jolt forward despite the way his hand was holding you tightly. “I’m already trying not to cum.”

His words made you cheeks heat up and a grin spread on your lips as he began to thrust inside you. Your head fell back onto the pillow, feeling every vein on his cock despite the latex separating you- maybe you were fooling yourself, but you were fine with it.

Aemond’s thrusts left you both breathless, and filled the room with the sound of skin meeting skin in perfectly rough motions.

Nothing had ever felt as good as the feeling of him inside you, and the way you squirmed and gasped beneath him made him understand that perfectly, other than making you feel like a pathetic whore.

His hand on your thigh was leaving red marks that had the shape of his fingers, and you loved it. “Please… Harder.” you found yourself begging, and he complied.

His hand left your thigh, gave your ass a firm slap before balling into a fist and pressing into the mattress to hold him up. His other hand reached your hair and grabbed a fistful, twisting it between his fingers before tugging on it sharply, making you yelp and arch your back.

“You asked for it, pretty girl.” he said with a wicked grin, pounding into your with more force than before. His hips collided against the skin of your ass he’d just slapped, making it even redder.

In response, your hand wrapped around his arm and your nails dug into the fair skin, making him grunt and pull even harder on your hair.

He fucked you harder as a form of punishment which he knew would only make things better for both of you. “Look at me, Princess.” Aemond breathed out the order, his chest heaving and his mouth open.

When you did, he let out an uncontrolled moan and gave you a particularly hard thrust, “Who owns you now, mh?”

The dirty talk, the rough treatment - it all fueled your desire, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. That’s why your lips curved into a grin.

But he wasn’t playing, because his fist opened and he slapped your ass again, “Answer.” he ordered. There, you understood it was all about pleading you to tell him, to reassure him, that Ed was gone from your mind, that he was the one inhabiting it.

“You do.”

At your words, and your burning eyes that accompanied them, Aemond grinned, turning you onto your stomach and pulling you ass up, all without exiting your tight heat.

He pushed your hips down until your chest pressed down on the soft comforter, and he started pounding again.

The change of position made your mind go blank, and your eyes almost saw white for how deep he reached.

He leaned in, still slamming into your with from behind like wild animal- his grin gone. “Who owns you, Princess?” he asked you again with the most guttural voice you’d ever heard coming from him.

“You!” you screamed with the few air and fewer focus the new position left you, as you felt your second orgasm approach like a storm above a deep sea.

“Good girl.” Aemond breathed out, his thrusts becoming erratic and his grip tightening as he let out a loud moan. His pace quickened, his breathing turned even more ragged, and you could feel him as he started losing control.

“Aemond!” you yelled, your voice slightly muffled by the pillow pressed against your cheek.

Hearing you scream his name, seeing the pleasure on your face, sent Aemond made him go even more mental than before: he pounded into you harder, faster, the bed rocking underneath the ferocity of his movements.

And your vision narrowed, your thoughts filled only with images of him and the feeling of his cock pounding restlessly inside you as your cunt clamped down around his cock, like you wanted him stretching you wider, breaking you even more.

The sensation of your second orgasm hitting you sent him over the edge, and with few powerful thrusts and a low growl, he came, filling the condom up to the brim.

Spent, he let himself fall on the bed, careful not to hurt you as he pulled out and wrapped his arms around your waist, making your back press against his chest.

He buried his face into your neck, breathing heavily. You bit your lip hard, trying to calm down and speak, “You were slightly better than Ed.”

You felt him let out a breathed laugh against your neck, but that didn’t save you from the slap he gave your ass. “Shut up.”

You jolted forward but chuckled. Then freed yourself from his embrace, making him frown and lock his eyes on you.

You scooted down, enjoying his confused expression and showing it with a grin, until you lied with your chest on his legs.

You pulled the used condom off his still-hard cock with a wicked gleam in your eyes. You revelled in the way his breath caught in his throat at your actions, and even more so when his mouth opened in pleasure as you started cleaning him off his cum with your tongue.

His hand went to your hair, holding the side of your face as you looked up at the desperate look for more in his eyes.

“Shit…” he breathed out raggedly. “You’re such a slut…”

You grinned, and started trailing kisses up his stomach and to his neck until you sat on top of him again. You cupped his cheek in your hand and kissed him, aware of how he could taste himself on your tongue.

His arms held you tight against his warm chest, his forehead against yours as you broke the kiss, and you couldn’t help but think about how many months you had thrown at the wind when you could have been in his bed, warm and…

“I love you.”

[ssa-dado]

The Ship of Theseus (prelude)

Aaron Hotchner x fem!bau!reader Genre: fluff, hurt/comfort (?), pining - I really do suck at tagging Summary: Never fuck your boss. Never fuck your best friend. And definitely never fuck Aaron Hotchner. But you did anyways. And now you’re left with the post-coital edition of Mr. Practical and all the messy aftermath that came with it. And a makeout too. Apparently the big scary man fell asleep right into your arms. Warnings: It's mentioned that they fucked. Whoops. IDK. In doubt - +18 MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. No actual smut, but it's STEAMYYYYY... way too suggestive. Also, some cuss words here and there. Hotch being a softie. Word Count: 4.1k Dado's Corner: It’s a Chekhov’s gun of Ethics but without the actual gun… unless, of course, we’re talking about Aaron’s GUNSHOTS - oh, wait, there it is! The gun! Aaron’s thick, throbbing GUNSHOTS - oh shit, that’s so cool

masterlist

If there was ever an Olympic event for post-coital efficiency, your dearest friend – and funnily enough – your boss Aaron Hotchner would be taking home the gold.

Truly, what a sight to behold.

One moment, he was wrecking you within an inch of your sanity, and the next - barely a minute later - him and his ridiculously long legs were back in your bedroom, carrying a towel in one hand, a damp washcloth in the other, like the world’s most disciplined housekeeper.

So proper, so effortlessly composed, even now.

Because of course Aaron Hotchner - former prosecutor, Unit Chief, insufferable neat freak - would handle post-coital cleanup like it was just another task on meticulously organized, color-coded to-do list.

Sex: Completed (highly successful, performance rating: exemplary)

Orgasm(s): Confirmed (3, official review pending, though “best orgasm of my life” was strongly implied)

Post-coital hydration: Pending (but water bottle is within retrieval distance)

Aftercare protocol: Initiated (warm washcloth acquired, towel deployment imminent)

Debriefing & emotional processing: Ongoing (mission parameters unclear, subject remains evasive yet sarcastic)

Sheets: Ruined (replacement required, but can be postponed in favor of further activity)

Boss/subordinate ethical violation acknowledgment: Not yet addressed, deliberately ignored

Cuddling: Proposal under review (high-risk scenario)

Exit strategy: TBD (complications may include the inability to leave this bed for the foreseeable future)

And, obviously, you could not let him get away with that.

"Look at you, being all domesticated," you teased, propping yourself up slightly as he walked over.

"Someone has to take care of you," he shot back smoothly, dropping the towel onto the bed and kneeling beside you like this was normal.

Like you weren’t both still bare, still caught in the strange, floating space that existed after.

That was the problem, wasn’t it?

The teasing - the constant, insufferable push and pull - was easy. That was your rhythm. That was safe. But this was something else entirely.

Something that left you both a little flustered, a little unsteady.

Even you - you, who could talk your way out of anything, who thrived on throwing him off - found yourself at a loss, your mouth opening, reaching for something to say, for anything that would keep this from feeling like more than what it was.

But then he touched you.

Pressed the warm cloth to your skin with so much care, with so much intent, and whatever sarcastic remark had been forming on your tongue just evaporated.

It wasn’t fair how tender he could be, how his hands - capable of so much control, so much discipline - could be this gentle, this careful. On you.

"You don’t have to do that," you murmured, breathless and barely audible.

"I know," he said simply, his gaze flicking up just long enough to see you before returning to his task. "But I want to."

So you let him. Let him take care of you.

Let yourself watch him, tracing the way his thick brows furrowed with concentration because he wanted to get it just right, the way his jaw tensed and relaxed as he worked, annoyingly meticulous, like this was just as important as everything that had come before it.

Gentle. Steady. Intimate. Intentional.

In a way that made your chest ache.

In a way that made you terrified of what it meant - now that the lust had passed, now that you were both just... here, bare, with nothing but each other.

And especially when he started pressing slow, lazy kisses along your knee, your already-marked thigh, your hip - like he needed to, like he couldn’t help himself, like he wanted to remind you that he had been there, that you were safe with him, even now.

Every second was more devastating than the last.

When he finished, he set the towel aside and leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a beat, then another, then another, until he could hear how fast your heart was pounding.

"There," he murmured, lips still brushing against your skin. "All set."

You shook your head, forcing a smile, forcing yourself back to safer ground. "So thorough, Hotchner. Truly, I’m impressed."

His mouth quirked, but apparently, he wasn’t done being insufferably tender, kissing your cheek up next. Wasn’t he just adorable?!

"I aim to please," it was so utterly him it made your stomach flip, but not even more Aaron Hotchner than when, suddenly, he was back to bossing you around in your own home.

"Now, we change the bedsheets, take a shower, and then I’ll see you back here so we-"

And then he stopped. Oh no. Cat got your tongue, bossman?

"We what?" you prompted, raising an eyebrow, watching with unholy satisfaction as the tips of his ears turned red.

He cleared his throat, hesitated in a way that was so unlike him it almost hurt to witness."We… could cuddle. If you want. Or talk. Or whatever you want to do, really. No pressure. I can leave, all you have to do is tell me."

The longer he spoke, the redder he got, his words tripping over themselves, and honestly, it was taking everything in you not to burst out laughing right in front of him.

"You’re adorable, you know that?" you said instead, leaning in to press a kiss to his flushed cheek, hopefully to calm him down – or at least that was your excuse. "Big, scary Aaron Hotchner, suggesting cuddling in the same breath as ‘no pressure.’"

You mocked him, because humbling him was your second nature, and judging by the glare he was giving you, you were winning yet another round. Still, you didn’t want him to just leave. That much was obvious.

He exhaled slowly, gaze steady. "So… what do you want?"

You pretended to think about it, dragging it out just to see that little furrow in his brow deepen.

"Well, I suppose I could settle for cuddling… " you mused, letting your fingers ghost along his shoulders, "but only if you’re the little spoon."

He scoffed, shaking his head. "Little spoon?"

Oh, wasn’t it just glorious. 2-0

"My house, my rules," you said smugly. "If you don’t like it, next time we’ll do it at your place, and you can do whatever you want."

And the second the words left your mouth, you definitely wanted to die.

Next time.

As if this was a thing. As if you had even talked about what it was, what this meant. As if you had acknowledged that what you’d just done was completely, wildly, against every rule in the protocol - and common sense as well.

Especially because he was your boss.

"I’m joking, of course," you backtracked quickly, though you felt the heat creeping up your neck.

"Of course," he echoed, but there was something in his expression, something behind his eyes that said he wasn’t entirely convinced, probably because he caught you with your hands in the cookie jar. "This was…"

Great. The talk.

"An accident," you supplied.

"Against protocol," he continued.

No shit, Sherlock.

"Because you’re my boss-"

"We work together," he chimed in, but his voice was softer now, trailing.

"Could cost us our careers," you pointed out, waiting for him to acknowledge it, to confirm the obvious.

"When there’s a pattern of offending behavior," he murmured, almost to himself, slipping into technicalities - because of course he would.

But then - he smirked. Just the slightest tilt of his lips, still – he smirked.

Oh.

And that could only mean one thing.

"A pattern," you echoed, watching him carefully.

And just like that, because he was only a man - logical, brilliant, but still just a man - he reached the same inevitable conclusion you had, just a breath later.

His fingers found yours, intertwining, and it was stupid how calming that simple gesture was.

Or maybe it wasn’t the touch itself but the truth laced between your hands.

Or maybe both.

Or maybe it was just this - how the whole conversation had shifted without either of you stopping it.

It didn’t mean you wouldn’t push and pull anymore. Didn’t mean you wouldn’t still play cat and mouse. You would. Just differently now. With your lips on the other’s skin instead of just grazing the air.

"We’re very good at patterns," he murmured, lips brushing your jaw, pressing a kiss there.

"At recognizing patterns," you corrected, your breath hitching as you tilted your head, catching the corner of his mouth with yours.

"What is a pattern, after all?" His lips moved along your cheek, his hands sliding up your spine, settling against your back.

"A repetition," you answered, barely above a whisper, pressing a kiss just beneath his ear.

"A repetition," he echoed, voice rasping, pressing one to the curve of your jaw.

"Exactly that." You murmured as your fingers traced patterns over his bare shoulders.

"Depending on a series of factors," he continued, shifting slightly, pressing another kiss to your collarbone.

"Such as…?" You exhaled against the bruise you left on his throat.

"Subjects involved," he murmured.

"Location," you supplied.

"A very important factor," he agreed, flashing his intoxicating dimples, nudging his nose against yours.

"Fundamental in analysis," you teased, smiling against his lips.

"If the location changes," he murmured, pausing just long enough to press a kiss to the tip of your nose, "the recognition of the pattern could be…"

You barely heard him, too focused on the way his breath ghosted over your skin, but still - hearing him talk like that, with his voice all low and thoughtful and dangerous, made you shiver.

"Devious," you countered, barely referring to legal theory anymore.

No, he was devious - the way his mouth was just barely touching yours, his hands skimming your sides like he wanted to devour you but was forcing himself to behave.

You've had enough. You tilted your head, catching his lips in a kiss, cutting off whatever legal analysis he thought he was about to give.

"Faulted," he corrected, the words slipping straight into your mouth, delivered onto your tongue by his, deepening the kiss without hesitation.

"You can never be sure…" your voice faltered, swallowed by the way he pulled you flush against his bare body, his fingers digging into the skin of your lower back.

"…if it’s the same pattern," he finished for you, just before his teeth caught your bottom lip, just hard enough to make you gasp.

"Or a copycat," you murmured, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze, feeling completely dizzy, straight-up autopilot - you barely even knew what you’d just said.

Judging by the way he chuckled, though, it was probably nonsense.

No, definitely ridiculous, because now he was repeating it back to you, still grinning, "…A copycat? You’re crazy."

Still, he never looked away.

Right… you definitely weren’t exactly talking about unsubs now.

"So one single act can still be admissible?" you asked, fingers idly tracing over his cheek.

"It was just a little lapse in judgment," he chuckled, but you could already feel the gears turning in that brilliant lawyer’s mind, already bending the rules in real time, looking for the inevitable loophole in the very system you both swore by.

"...At your place," he added, like that alone made all the difference. "And that’s just one location."

You smirked. "Not your apartment."

"To be precise," he murmured, his mouth brushing over yours, "it was just your bed… which means that technically-"

"Technically", you could still fuck each other everywhere else.

"Oh, I love the way your brain works…" you hummed, punctuating your words with another kiss, this time against the sharp line of his jaw. "So… not the shower."

And just like that, it became a game.

A list. A reckless, bucket list.

"The desk," he murmured, and fuck, you had to squeeze your thighs together at that one, trying so hard not to let your brain go there - not to picture which specific desk you wanted him to bend you over, not to imagine the feel of his hands gripping your hips, his voice low in your ear, telling you to keep quiet.

Definitely not the one in his office. No. That would be unethical.

"The kitchen counter," you whispered, voice already a little breathless.

"The floor," he added, lips dragging just beneath your ear, voice husky, teasing, unfair.

"Of all the rooms in this apartment…" you trailed off, tilting his chin just slightly so you could press a slow kiss right between his brows, smoothing away the tiny crease there.

"The couch," he murmured. Low blow.

You bit your lip, because that wasn’t fair, because now all you could think about was straddling his lap, sinking down onto him, rolling your hips while his hands dug into the flesh of your thighs, holding you in place, watching you come undone.

You had never wanted to ride a man so badly in your life.

"Against the front door," you suggested next

“The armchair” he added, and okay - so he really wanted you to ride him. Noted.

"The stairs," you countered, throwing something ridiculous just to regain some control.

"We don’t have stairs," he said, lips curving against your skin.

"Fine," you huffed. "The car."

"Backseat or front?" he asked, way too inclined to indulge in your proposal.

"Front if I’m driving," you mused.

He groaned at that, and you took the opportunity to press your advantage, brushing your lips over his throat, smirking against his skin as you felt something become quite… hard.

"My bed," he rasped suddenly, and damn, you knew you were done for the second those words left his mouth.

Because that - that was dangerous. The thought of being wrapped in sheets that smelled like him, tangled up in his warmth, surrounded by the scent of sex and sweat and that insufferable, frustratingly attractive man…

You would not survive it.

"The elevator," you rasped before you could stop yourself.

And that was when he froze - for half a second, you thought maybe he hadn’t heard you. And then-

"Jesus Christ."

"I don’t think that one’s possible, Hotchner.."

Still, his mouth parted, his pupils blown so wide there was barely any brown left, and for a second, you genuinely thought he was about to die right then and there. Would’ve been tragic, really - death by horny legal loopholes debate.

Explain that to Erin Strauss...

But then he groaned, deep and wrecked, dropping his face into your neck like he needed a moment to recover. Maybe he wasn’t going to die just yet.

"The elevator?" he muttered against your skin, muffled, bewildered, like he couldn’t quite believe he was having this conversation.

"The elevator," you confirmed, absolutely shameless.

"Jesus."

"I’d prefer it be just the two of us, if that’s not a problem for you," you deadpanned.

He let out a deep, suffering sigh against your neck, like he was physically restraining himself from debating elevator logistics.

"I don’t even know what to do with you," he muttered.

"I have some ideas."

He exhaled, then lifted his head just enough to look you dead in the eye. "We are never having sex in an elevator."

"That sounds like a challenge."

"That sounds like a lawsuit," he corrected, still so visibly distressed that you could not stop laughing.

"Thought you used to be a good lawyer, Hotchner," you teased, your fingers dragging lazily along his spine. "Wouldn't you know your way around a legal loophole?"

"Oh, I do," he sighed. "I also know how to avoid federal charges."

"You’re truly a prude."

"You're truly reckless," he shot back, eyes closed, mentally revisiting every questionable decision he’d made in the last hour… or maybe the last two…

Honestly, who was even keeping track at this point?

You smirked, shifting until you were draped half over his chest, resting your chin on your folded arms as you gazed at him. "Oh, c'mon, Hotchner, live a little."

His eyes opened just enough to give you a look.

You huffed. "Okay, okay, fine. No elevators. If you really wanna be lame about it."

"Thank you," he said flatly.

A pause. Then, you couldn’t help it. "The jet."

His entire body went rigid. You swore you felt his soul attempt to leave his body.

"The jet?" he repeated, voice hoarse.

You nodded sagely. "The jet."

"Oh my God."

You grinned, slow and so wicked. "Can you imagine it?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

"Small, enclosed space-" you started.

"Oh my God."

"-turbulence, you pinning me against the-"

"No." He cut you off.

You cackled, absolutely delighted by his suffering.

"The team is on that jet," he tried to argue.

"Not always," you countered, “sometimes Strauss is there too.”

His entire face drained of color. For a solid three seconds, he just stared at you, mouth slightly parted, horror creeping into his very being.

"Get out."

You wheezed, collapsing against his chest, “Of my bedroom?! You can’t really dismiss me here unfortunately for you.”

"I don’t ever want to hear the words sex and Strauss in the same sentence again," he grumbled.

"I believe you just said them yourself, Hotchner"

A slow blink. A deep sigh. He was so close to reconsidering every single choice that had led him to this moment.

And yet-

Instead of answering, he just exhaled, letting his weight sink into you, his forehead dropping onto your shoulder like admitting defeat.

Because you both knew exactly what this was.

A game.

A flimsy, shameless, beautiful excuse to keep doing this - to keep falling into each other, to keep breaking rules and bending logic, to keep pretending it wasn’t something more.

But neither of you said that.

Neither of you needed to.

Instead, you simply thrived in the ineffable, in the space where words didn’t need to be spoken. In the way his body melted on top of yours, drawn to you despite himself, despite the attitude, despite everything.

Because with you, he could just be.

Simply, truly, exist in his truth.

Not Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner. Not the unshakable leader, not the man who carried the weight of everyone else’s burdens on his back, never allowing himself to falter.

Just Aaron.

The six-foot-two little spoon who swore he wouldn’t be, yet here he was, folded into you like he’d never belonged anywhere else, all because you’d jokingly set it as a condition for him to breathe this close to you.

At least, that’s what you told him.

But in reality a part of you wanted this.

A part of you wanted the man who always stayed close – from the victims, to the UnSubs, and everyone he cared about, always making sure he was the one who bore the weight so no one else had to - to have someone stay close for him.

To let him know what it felt like to be held.

Because the thought had been lingering at the edges of your mind for far too long now - unwelcome, unavoidable -

If he was there to protect everyone, who was there to protect him?

Not that you were volunteering. Not like that.

Actually if you said it out loud, he’d probably just laugh at you, and use that damned dry humor of his and tell you “How can you protect me if you can barely shoot?”

And you’d laugh, you’d tease him right back - and nothing would change.

But you knew the truth - you’d been his anchor for the past decade.

And so your fingers traced idle patterns along his back, thoughtlessly, feeling the tension unwind from his muscles, bit by bit, until there was nothing left but the slow, steady rhythm of his breathing, the rise and fall of his chest against yours.

"You’re warm," he murmured after a while, rasping at the edges, making your heart ache in a way you didn’t want to think too hard about.

"You’re a bit heavy," you murmured, lips quirking slightly.

"Mhm." But he didn’t move, didn’t even try.

You smiled to yourself, dragging your fingers gently through his short hair, feeling the strands slip between them, coarse and slightly mussed.

"You don’t have to do that," he said softly against your skin.

"I know," you whispered, your hand still smoothing over his back, still holding him close, like you weren’t fooling either of you. "But I want to."

A pause. A deep breath.

Then-

"Thank you," he sighed, pressing a barely-there kiss to your shoulder, too tired to move, too tired to do anything but exist against you.

Just holding each other.

Just existing in the same space, in the same breath, with no expectations, no pressure, no future to consider beyond the feel of his heartbeat against yours.

"You know, there’s a philosophical dilemma called the Ship of Theseus-" you started, your voice a gentle hum in the quiet, earning a small huff from him in response.

"It questions whether an object remains fundamentally the same if all of its components are replaced over time. If every original part is gone, is it still the same thing? Because technically, it’s not… if identity is tied to its physical components and not something more abstract, like function or form."

You felt the slow, subtle curve of his lips against your shoulder.

"Which brings us to," you added, lips curving now too, " is this even the same bed if we just change the sheets? On some criteria, following this logic… it isn’t."

A beat.

No reply.

Just the steady, even sound of his breathing.

And - oh.

Oh.

He’d fallen asleep on you. Mid-philosophy. Unbelievable.

Great. So apparently, you were the boring one now. Perfect.

But before you could dwell too much on your bruised ego, he stirred, mumbling something barely coherent against your skin.

"Mmmh… we change the sheets… shower… come back here and-"

“’And’ what?” You sighed, your fingers still lazily running through his hair.  “Aaron, you sound like a low-battery version of yourself.” You huffed a laugh, shaking your head.

"M'practical," he slurred, as if that was a valid argument.

"You’re half-asleep."

"Still practical," he muttered.

"If you move, I’ll take care of the sheets. You go shower," you offered, voice quiet, fond.

He barely responded, just a low, unintelligible grumble against your collarbone before-

"Mm-mm… we don’t… shower together?”

You sighed. Of course that was where his sleepy brain went.

"Will we just shower?" you asked, knowing full well he wouldn’t have the energy for anything else.

A beat of silence.

Then, his voice barely above a whisper-

"What if we don’t?" he muttered, already half-asleep. "S’not against the rules…"

You laughed softly, shaking your head. "Aaron-"

"The ship… applies to your shower too…" his words trailed off lazily, completely nonsense, but you could hear the hint of a smile in them. "If you replace the soap… ‘s a different shower…"

Well, at least even in his on-the-brink-of-unconsciousness state, he was committed to following through with your logic...

"I’m saying this for your own good, Hotchner, because you really don’t have the energy for another round."

"I do," he grumbled, shifting, his arms tightening around you like you had to believe him.

"Sure," you murmured, kissing his forehead. "I’ll believe that when you make it to the bathroom without falling asleep in the doorway."

He made a low, unintelligible noise, like he wanted to argue, but his body had already betrayed him, too heavy, too settled against you.

"Go," you whispered, nudging him gently.

A deep sigh. Then-

"Fine."

He peeled himself off you with the effort of a man being dragged out of bed by force, his body moving like it was actively resisting him.

You bit back another laugh as he stumbled toward the bathroom, catching himself on the doorframe for just a second before disappearing inside.

And, of course-

When you finished your own shower and stepped quietly back into the bedroom, he was already collapsed against the bed, completely dead to the world.

Or so you thought.

Because the moment you eased yourself into bed, trying your best to be quiet, he shifted -

One sleepy, instinctive movement.

And suddenly, his arms were wrapping around you without thinking, his body curling into yours, his head tucking against the crook of your neck, snuggling.

Clingy.

"Annoying little spoon," you muttered.

You felt a muffled hum against your skin. "Next time… we switch."

You sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, letting your fingers drift through his hair one more time. "Go to sleep, Aaron."

He sighed against your skin, warm and content, the weight of him only settling deeper into you.

"Mmm. ‘M already sleepin’…" he murmured, words barely holding together.

A beat.

Then, even softer-

"You should too… two hours ‘til work."

Oh, he just could not help himself - spent a full minute reminding you, over and over, that you just fucked your boss.

Damn it, Aaron. At least he could try to pretend...

"Actually, it’s one and a half." you bit back.

A pause.

Then-

"Shit."

Shit indeed.

Phi's Corner: BOTTOM HOTCH RIGHTS!!!!!!!! Also don't worry filthy goyals, you will be fed with some actual smut tomorrow. And probably some context too... maybe?!?! hope you enjoyed this anyways...

taglist: @beata1108 ; @c-losur3 ; @fangirlunknown ; @hayleym1234 ; @justyourusualash ; @khxna ; @kyrathekiller ; @lostinwonderland314 ; @mxblobby ; @oxforce ; @person-005 ; @prettybaby-reid ; @reidfile ; @royalestrellas ; @ssa-callahan ; @softestqueeen ; @theseerbetweenus ; @todorokishoe24

[twijaxx]

Female Itoshi Rin x Female reader, Vampire Rin, She is lowkey kinda possesive? smut, occ Rin.

wc: 0,6k

The sun lightly peaked thru your window, you didn’t want to wake up just yet, but you decided to look at your phone to see what hour it was. 10:34 shit, that’s kinda late for you, so u decided to finally get up from your bed and do something productive since it was your day off.

“ahh… what i’m gonna eat for breakfast today?..”- you thought as where sitting on the toilet “i wanna eat some cereal” the thought suddenly popped out in your mind as you wipe yourself down there. (what the fuk am i writing) Blood, fuck you started your period, the worst six days every woman can go thru every month. You put on your pad (omfg i’m cringing so hard) and went to the kitchen for some pain killers.

As you walked in you saw your gorgeous girlfriend Rin, but something was off.. it was bright outside and she was just sitting on the couch like nothing happened?! “Rinnie it’s bright outside! what are you doing here?!! you’re gonna burn yourself” ahh you forgot to mention, Rin was a vampire so it really was confusing when you just saw her in the middle of the day in your living room, since half of the time she’s showing up when the sun comes down so she don’t hurt herself.

“Nahh it’s fine, it’s just.. a little warm..” “are you sure? i don’t want you to get hurt baby” -you said as you sat on Rin’s lap slowly kissing her face. Oh yea you came here to take painkillers and eat breakfast, so you stopped kissing her and stand up to do what you came here for, but she grabbed your waist and pulled u back on her lap.

“where do you think you’re going? you where so surprised that i’m here just a moment ago, and now you want to go somewhere?” What’s gotten into her? she usually don’t act like that only sometimes… Oh right, she probably know you are on your period by now. “Rinnie i just want to eat breakfast and take some painkillers, i started my period my stomach hurts..” - you said as you tried standing up again, she let you go this time. “that’s why you smell so.. ripe” What the fuck did she just said? “what…?” -she didn’t respond, so you just ignored that and started your day.

The day quickly ended, it was time for sleep now and you decided maybe Rin wanna cuddle together till you fall asleep?? that was almost an hour ago and now you’re just laying there while Rin is between your thighs eating you out like she didn’t ate for years!

You can’t remember how many times you came already.. four? five? You didn’t bother counting, it just felt so amazing, you were so sensitive because you were on your period ;3 You felt like the coil in your stomach is about to snap again!

“Rin ahh! i’m a-about to cum! mhhh!” You saw stars as you came on Rin’s tongue but she just kept licking between your folds! her nose bumping against your clit “Ri-nnie, no more!”

“You’re doing such a good job… my sweet girl can give me one more, right?”

You where too far gone to respond, just screaming out her name as she kept going and going. Good that you lived in the middle of nowhere cause you would already get noise complaints from the neighbors :3

You didn’t know when you came again but Rin slowly helped you come down from your high and you watched her pull away, her chin was covered in blood and your slick, was that a bad moment to say she looked heavenly? anyways, she just stood up without a word.

“Where are you going?…” She didn’t respond, but she came back seconds later with a wet rag and started cleaning you up, then she laid down beside you pulling you into her arms.

“I love you [name]… but you are aware that vampires are not able to feed off period blood right?”

“I love you too Rinnie… wait.. what?!”

tags: @isaisliterallyhim <3

Chat did i cook[flushed] lowkey it’s one of my first long “fics” but i guess its because its fem lock AND I FUCKING LOVE FEMLOCK and i love rin too the ending was kinda rushed cause i ran out of ideas THANKS FOR READING POOKS😝 oh and from everyone’s request… uh… i told yall… im lazy as fuck BE PATIENT

[haveihitanerve]

BUS! I know I came back to land for a reason…

Also- for-word: um. Be prepared? Its not innocent. At all. Not about a bus. Um. yeah. Don't watch around people. Yeah. thats all the advice i can offer. Now go off into the world Penelope Jemima B. D. And show the world who you are 😭

(the amount of distress i had while watching this is insane) anyway:

Idk what AJ and Tom were saying at the very beginning but cuteness 

“You're gonna fucking love it.” Tom is an iconic king but also AJ and Sam laughing at his dumb little jokey intro will always be the cutest thing to me

“Hopefully in that order…” yes please lol

“BUS!” AJ really enjoyed that- gorgeous cackle, 10/10. Sam doesn't know what to do with that and Tom has just reverted to repeating it bc… wow

“First murder.” “last murder” goodness gracious what lmaooo

Toms little pat on AJ’s back as they started the scene 😭

AJ awkwardly scooting away as Sam comes closer but also moving closer because he needs to at all times be touching them 😭

“You don't see young people reading anymore.” Ok idk if its intentional or not but every time we get a scene like this in any way sam always starts insulting young people for being on their “tablets and iphones” and etc etc, and i don't know if its an actual grievance that he has at this point lmao(even tho we as fans connect to them thru this but wtv lol) or if hes mocking old people for their grievances and either one works for me really lol i just wanna knowww

Sam: Good book? AJ: *every book ever created ever in the history of ever leaves his mind* yeah yeah, uh u-yeah uh its the-the the- the sexbook. Yeah thats such a good book AJ, i agree

“Quite a coincidence.” AJ: *blinks, not sure what to do with that information just casually dropped with nothing else* wha-what Sam: *smirks* Tom: *offstage* :D 

Sam: I wrote the sexbook Tom: *oh did you??* *legs crossed, hand over mouth, classic tom pose that slays every. single. time.*

“Arthur big dick” Tom shaking with silent laughter, AJ almost caving with a laugh, Sam laughing as he says it. Idk shared laughter means a lot to me

“Name five of them.” No thats foul- because AJ couldn't even think of one and now you’re making him come up with fivvveee titles sam??? Thats loowwww XD

“Big Dick 1, 2, 3 ,4 and 5.” The groan of the crowd lmaooo- they really wanted to hear AJ come up with creative titles lol

Tom’s disappointed nose pinch in the corner XD

“Im just gonna fangirl here real quick-” yes AJ! Yes! Finally we are represented!!

Sam: You're a girl? *slowly removes his hand from Aj’s shoulders* AJ: *did not think that far ahead, nor that it’d be commented on* ye-yes? Sam: ah.*contemplates* this is much creepier than I thought it was LMAOOOOO (Toms little grin shaky laugh in the corner 🫠)

“I just feel like your writing- it just really gets to the heart of- of the sexual experience.” truly, inspirational work Sam

“Didn't like it.” Silence as AJ just stares at him. :| yes. Do continue. 👀

Tom and AJ’s laugh as Sam just doesn't answer XD

“He-hello?” AJ sounded genuinely concerned for Sam lol

“Where did you go?” “the sea.” regrets it before the words are even out- XD

The way they both broke, shook for a few seconds, and then straightened in sync is insane

Its like a fricking switch was flipped holy shit- laughing- then suddenly sitting upright and focused again lol wow

Toms little giggling in the corner omfg-

“Are you getting off? Whe-where are you getting off?” He heard the joke and immediately corrected lmaooo

“Well, turn to page seven!” “Ahhh!” “Ahhh!!” the whole finger pointing and like “hahahaha i knew you'd say it you shit” is amazing and i adore it

“How old are you?” Has to clarify for the scene, i appreciate it sam lol

“32. How-how-” “okay.” “okay.” yeah maybe its better not to clarify sam’s age- seeing as hes been at sea for 60 years yet was clearly an adult when he wrote the book and- lets not get into it

“Im actually getting off at the next stop-” “mhumhmh” AJ and Tom’s little smiles at his dumbass joke ahhhh i love

Also- side note- his book gets off already at page seven??? Thats pretty early right? Or am i tweaking? Actually its a book about sex called Sexbook so nevermind, ignore me

“Im actually a writer myself.” “oh really? What have you written?” “big vagina 1, 2, 3.” Sam completely folds at that, and Tom’s little smile as AJ smirks, proud of himself ahhh such dorks :) 

“But i haven't- *breaks* i haven't released any yet because *voice shakes with laughter* im too afraid. *sam casually dying in the background trying not to laugh* Im too afraid of showing my work *breaks again* cause i will be judged.” The hand to the heart is truly my favorite thing XD

“Jemima.” Sam: *shit what was my name again* AJ: Arthur B. D. Sam: *thats right thank you* Arthur B. D. WOW!!! AJ remembered a name!!! Brilliant. 

Brilliant stagecraft of leaving the bus AJ, adore

Tom gets to be in a scene now! Yay!

“Boys…” Sam thought he could sit down and relax- nope! AJ is trying, but, yep he has to stand again too lol

Tom unbuttoning his shirt just to reveal a shirt underneath is a power move holy shit-

“As the united kingdom communist part we just cant take that.” Tom squints at him: mmmhmmm. *shakes head because he does not like that* Sam: *does it back equally as passive aggressive* mmmmmhhhmmm

“Us fine upstanding, british *lacking a very substantial british accent* communists that we are.” 

I see Tom is trying to revive Xavier???? Or smth…

“Oh what did you just stutter to me?” His strut-

AJ’s tongue in cheek smile as he approaches-

That chin tilt???????? Oh ma my my-

“How did you get my name so wrong?” ahh how quickly the mighty fall😔

“Magnus o. Puss.” AJ’s almost break at the name lmaooo

“Cause i have a full magnus full of o puss.” Sam’s breaking of character so completely that he just covers his face in shame lmaooo XD

“You just wiped your nose.” “Sorry.” “you're wearing a jumper.” wow tom- just insult everything about him i guess XD AJ: 😔sorry…

Aj trying to escape the scene. Tom: don't just sit down and cry! No mercy…XD

“Flatmate.” “oh!” AJ’s relief lmaooo

Tom: I’m the other flatmate. :/ keep trying buddy, one day you'll join the scene again lmaooo

“Get on the couch.” “how was your day?” “how was your day?” “how was your daaaay?” the way theyre actually sitting really close together with Tom almost leaning against Sam’s shoulder 🫠

“You know, my writing,” “We’re big fans.” Tom casually interrupts to clarify and support- and like- i know its for the scene and they’re building a really quick relationship- but AJ actually is a writer/director and they do actually watch his stuff-😭- anyway-

Sam and Tom’s continuous looks at each other “Oooooooh!”

“Its from your time.” THERE WE GO!!! SOME OLD JOKES!!!! “Oh yeah, just us two 65 year old women with our 32 year old flatmate!” lmaoooo they're all women and not one of them originally meant to be XD

“Well we were five.” “At first it didn't do much for us.” I would hope not Tom, but thanks for clarifying…

“As we matured-” “as we matured-” “Like our bible-” “like our bible-” im loving this casual repetition they have going on, wonderful

“It was spiritual but also exciting.” “like cocaine.” “like cocaine.” Sam would know… and still with the repetitions XD

“That would be convenient to the plot.” I love how Sam feels the need to say this aloud and not just subtly hint at it- because knowing the two idiots he’s on stage with- sorry, chaos demons- they would totally let him try to build it up like that, and then never actually get the plot going in that direction lmaooo

“Oh my gosh.” Sam and Tom both cracking at his gasp- now drum roll, will Aj stick to the plot or is he throwing in a curveball???

“Is it convenient to the plot?” Tom looks like he doesn't want it to be- just to annoy Sam lmaooo

“And i looked out the window temporarily-” *almost breaks* Aj- i love you, but there are more casual ways to let this further the plot, you know that right XD

“Well this sounds perfectly plausible.” After he and Tom just destroyed any way it could be plausible

“You've cracked my code did you?” we get a snippet of Aj’s delightful laughter, beautiful

“Pass the torch up. There you go.” AJ: *finger point of “clever”* lol

“You cant go off again back to sea.” “..okay.” AJ’s break at the easy agreement lol-

AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW i did not expect a cute hug scene!!!!!! Yay!!!! 🫠💗

Ok- i will be honest- i really though Aj was going in for a kiss at first- and i kind of believe Sam thought so too with the whole “i always wanted a daughter” to solidify its purely sweet and not romantic just in case aj gets any more ideas lol

Sam’s “oh!” and hunch drop into Big Dick because he thought he was Tom’s assistant??? And not big dick, but here he is again lmaooo

Tom’s little vibrating act made AJ fold and i think its wonderful XD

Tom climbing on a chair because he needs to be taller ofc, classic

“You could look, im not wearing underwear.” Sam, not only looking, but doing the appreciate, yeah head nod is crazy

“Im everything you fear.” AJ interrupting his build up to monologue to snort is priceless

“You were just a lowly intern-” Hang on a fucking minute sam- Tom is how old???? That was 60 years ago- i don't care how young and lowly he was- he was at least a teenager which makes him a seventy something yead old man- y'know what its better not to ask

“Even you couldn't… open it.” Tom freezing in place in an effort not to laugh, Sam’s head hanging in disappointment, and AJ just having the time of his life 

THEM GENUINELY JUST LETTING/MAKING AJ WRITE THE ENDING OF HIS SEX BOOK ON STAGE IS THE BEST AND CRAZIEST THING EVER WHAAAAAAAT

Tom’s little head drop forward like “what are you saying aj? Oh you're doing this? Okaaay…” 

“Penelope.” sam. Sam. sammy. Samuel. Its Jemima. 

“Im trapped in a vagina.” Tom, AJ, and Sam all cracking at the perfectly set up joke, classic

“How is he doing this?” Sam not helping at all and making AJ come up with it XD

“He says it just- hes a ghost.” AJ has given up lmaooo

“Astral penetration.” AJ BREAKING FULLY, FOLD ON STAGE, MID STAGE!!!!

“Magnum o, full stop, puss.” Sam checking his watch to see how much he has to speed this up lmaoooo

“Hell die inside of that vagina.” *both break* XD

“Im in my office on another floor…” Tom really wanted to be in the scene and they keep forcing him out XD

“Hes astral penetrated me-” Sam fully folds on stage too- he knew, he just knew AJ would make it weird- specifically made it so that they were established as daughter-dad relationship- and yet AJ still found a way LMAOOOO

“Don't make me call security.” “Call security! I don't care!” “Security.” “JA. I am secure.” Tom baby im just not sure thats what he meant XD

“Im just going to put this out there: we have several copies.” lmaooo Aj come on!

“But then your friend would die inside wouldn't he?” AJ: *HAHAH FUCK YOU!!!* “ahh fuck.” Sam is impressed lol

WHERE DID HE GET THE SWORD?????

[drenched exit] sam: awww come on! *disappointed as though he didn't help set it up*

[door closes with a moist SMACK] Tom: *smiles because hes proud of himself*

“You've been meditating inside a big member!” why do they keep making it worse better

[juicy splash] Sam: *makes sound of disgust and disappointment*

“Its perfectly natural!” You tell ‘em king!

Physic powers?????

“You-you've pinned it to the wall.” … aj… theres no emoji or anything to convey my expression rn, but i assume its the same as yours so… yeah…

“You must challenge him.” AJ: *breaks fully because he did not expect sam to just appear behind him while hes being tortured?? by a man rubbing his own nipples*

“Feel the tension!” i feel the tension alright😭

Aj having to laugh mid battle (real) because  w h a ha t???

What is going on😭😭😭

OH MY GOD WHAT???? SAM ESCAPED THE VAGINA????

pleasedontkisspleasedontkisspleasedontkisspleasedontkisspleasekisspleasekiss

“That vagina was so acidic.” Sam please don't say things like that while you're dying in AJ’s arms- XD

“Im so happy i met you on the bus that day.” You mean literally that morning?? Or did i miss a time jump?

“The big vagina 4. *moans*” Death. 

aj helping tom up from the floor😭🫠

AND, SCENE!!! wow. That was… wow. Ok. Um. So. If you couldn't tell, i got very distressed towards the end. Like very. It was very good though, kinda what i expected. I’m sad Luke isn't there but glad he wasn't because it would have been so much worse 😭 but uh. Yeah. that was fun! So… hope you enjoyed???

@snek-of-eden you were so right, the chaos is unmatched and wow. Thank you!!

@dawn-speckled

[horrormogai]

Happy Black History Month !!

[PT :: Happy Black History Month]

So, to not fancify things, shit's been fucking weird and rough since the idiot and chief came back into power. Especially for the POC creators in our community. So here, we want to give a shout out to several black creators in our community who make beautiful labels and flags in celebration of this month!

───────

BIPOC Coiners ::

[PT :: BIPOC Coiners]

⛧ @vampitsm - An amazing coiner and creator, makes terms based around blackness as well as horror and vampire themes! Also just generally an awesome dude. ⛧ @psychsilk - Coiner who creates genuinely gorgeous flags, its understanding of color theory is just *chefs kiss* ⛧ @xyrthemost - Makes lovely terms, beautiful flags, and is a genuine lovely person to have in the community! ⛧ @mogaimagic - A blog I have been following for some time shey have been made some genuinely gorgeous flags and terms and sheir blog theme is so cute! Reminds me of magical girls :D ⛧ @edwardallenpoe - Has made the amazing black and intersex labels, hys Intersex Stud flag is one of my favorite intersex flags (I don't use it, I just think it's pretty) ⛧@clowncaraz-journal - Made the gorgeous flag term Soul that I think everyone should look at personally. I totally misread // didn't read well enough and that's totally on me, they did not create the term, simply posted it for others. Still a lovely creator to check out <3 The original coiner is pink parthenon on tiktok ⛧ @luniarii - Made the adorable Black Girlkisser flag and makes a lot of beautiful flags based around being sapphic! ⛧ @knwight - A new blog that makes genuinely really gorgeous flags, the kind of designs you'd love a sticker of. ⛧ @pixxiesticksys - A coiner who creates a lot of amazing labels targeted towards atypical dysphoria and reclaiming the slur "mutt"! ⛧ @silverrhythm - A new MOGAI blog to give support! The pokemon theme has my autism eyes staring at their blog <3 ⛧ @the-astropaws - A blog ran by two mods, one black and the other non-black POC. Makes some of the prettiest and loveliest terms <3

───────

BIPOC Archivers ::

[PT :: BIPOC Archivers]

⛧ @blkmogai - An archive for black and POC terms and creators! Run by @/vampitsm and @abandonedknowledge

───────

Notes ::

[PT :: Notes]

This post is not about me, even though I'm the one making it, the only interaction I care about is the attention given to the users I have listed. I am a simple white boy from Detroit. I do not want you to listen to my voice, I want you to follow my finger as I point to the voices you should be listening to. Along with that, you may notice not many users are listed. I have noticed as well, and I feel that says something about this community. Something that leaves a sour taste in my mouth. I am not blind, I have seen how our community treats POC and it is honestly pretty damn abhorrent. Many users speak over POC voices or simply don't take it seriously. Rather than actively being anti-racist, a lot of people just put shit like "racists DNI" in their rentry's or carrd or anything and call it good. There is no active fight against racism here, simply a passive acceptance whenever it rears its head. If you reblog this post, if you interact with this or me in anyway, I want you to take the time to follow any of the coiners I've listed. POC deserve a space here too. You need to be more than just not racist, you need to be actively anti-racist. If you're a black MOGAI creator of any kind, please promo yourselves in the replies. I will do my best to add anyone who does to this list.

[theclownghoul]

Gratuitous

Opinion piece & analysis

I really hate how Jinx’s suicidality is portrayed in S2, largely in Act lll but we’ll talk about all of it.

In S1 we have about three moments (by my count) that show Jinx harming herself or trying to end her life. Hitting herself in episode 3, being careless with the staples in episode 7 and pulling the pin on the bridge also in episode 7. There is also a line she says to Vi “You’re the reason I’m still alive” in episode 9 which given other things she says in that moment could be interpreted as other ideations.

What makes these moments different from S2 episode 9? Well none of the three main writers were credited to those episodes other than the dialogue in S1 episode 9. Most of them are communicated through animation only. They also just feel different, they’re vulnerable, other things are the focus and her doing these things is just a reaction to those feelings. There was something to get from the scene besides a showcase of her pain.

Episode 9 of S2 is not that. It’s gratuitous, it’s a spectacle, it’s gory and somehow losing all its impact. There’s the music which is not what I’d call tasteful or subtle. It’s making an impression, wants to force a feeling or reaction. Make you sad or horrified and oh, I was horrified but not the way they wanted.

Even the way she digs her nails into her cuticles in S2 episode 8 isn’t really meant to show us anything about her. It’s meant to affect the audience.

In comparison I almost appreciate how people have read her pulling the pin in S1 episode 7 as trying to manipulate or take Ekko out too instead of being a completely clear cut attempt. Because it at least shows that there is enough going on with the character’s mindset that we can speculate on her motivations and how she’s reacting to all the emotions that came from fighting her old friend. If you look at her face it’s sadness and regret (S1 is also better at story through facial expressions since there was forethought). You’re free to have your own reaction, not the one that’s set out for you.

I have mixed feelings about her fight with Vi now and telling Vi that she’s okay to go out by her hand. It feels closer to the moments in S1 than later in episode 9. There’s more going on, we’re meant to consider multiple layers of both her and Vi’s feelings in the moment. It’s a non explicit parallel to the Bridge and does show a pattern of behaviour. It’s also not credited to any of the main writers.

The scene from the opening of episode 9 as a whole, is it romanticization? Heard differing opinions on this and I honestly don’t know where I stand. One one hand it shows how empty she feels and how everything has come crashing down despite trying and it communicates her emotions through the images and music. On the other the scene is meant to be visually appealing while also showing her detonating the bomb very explicitly, like you see her blood. I’m sorry but this is some 13 reasons shit. None of this is helped by the fact that Isha was killed purposely to get her in this state.

I had way more emotions about the actual story in the scene with Ekko in S1 and the scene with Vi in episode 3. Originally I liked this scene but I just can’t really remember why exactly, especially when compared to the earlier ones. The other scenes aren’t lacking in any way when it comes to showing her despair so I’m lead to believe it’s a stylistic choice in line with S2’s music video focus.

Then there’s Ekko… what did he do to deserve this? I’ve said before that if he had to he would save her but the reason he had to was because this scene sounded like a good idea. Saw someone say why is it his responsibility to save her and yeah why? He’s her romantic interest? Not from her perspective at this point and that’s a terrible reason anyway. Not only are we shown her blowing herself up in detail, being inflicted with it but he also has to see that, multiple times. Please don’t make me think too long about it… then we don’t see what actually changes her mind and actually see their bond. That also doesn’t give me a lot of faith is what they think is important to show.

Then she sacrifices herself at the end to “break the cycle” which no one is actually clear on what is meant by that and the same damn song is playing. It’s weird.

I’d like to compare it to the Poison sequence from Hazbin Hotel since that scene faced backlash for “romanticizing” abuse specifically in that scene. If I can describe what makes Poison not exploitative and what makes Wasteland so then I can safely say they are different and there is something deeply sinister about Jinx’s scene.

Poison benefits internally, inside the context of the story from being visually appealing and pretty. That tells part of the story in and of itself and eventually it cracks, mirroring how Angel feels in the scene and in his situation.

Wasteland benefits externally, it’s done for the audience as I’ve been saying. There is nothing about Jinx’s mindset or actions that we get a better insight into from the stylistic choices. We know “she loves a spectacle” but that’s the only internal explanation that I could make. Even if they wanted the cutting of her hair and the burning on the last drop but the framing could have easily been different.

Think about the staple scene for contrast, it has no interest in being something other than what it is, brutal and disorienting, just as she is feeling in that moment. Jinx would behave that way whether there were “eyes” on her or not. Poison is the same, Angel “performs” to keep his thoughts at bay regardless of an audience. Wasteland only exists in its current form to entertain.

The final “sacrifice” also falls into this, solely focusing on eliciting a reaction from the audience and making a spectacle of sadness. There is no resolution to Jinx’s earlier conversation with Ekko, we don’t see her reflect, we don’t see a change. We have no reason to believe she’s in any way in a better place. Her decision to give her life for Vi’s isn’t particularly fleshed out and this as a conclusion to her arc is bizarre at best and offensive at worst, suggesting she had to remove herself from her loved ones lives, something she simultaneously feared and was tempted by.

I probably shouldn’t feel the need to make such a caveat but I am aware that the could be a matter of preference when it comes to how scenes like this are portrayed but the way this scene was done continues to strike me as odd. I can’t help but think it maybe intentionally or unintentionally is playing into the “sacrifice” message where, it may be a sad thing but Jinx had to die. And that’s a horrible thing to say.

[happyplapy]

I will forever be confused about how I'M the weirdo just for being, but others that harrass me and others like me are the "good" and "Normal" ones?

Little rant i guess(?)

I've had people howl and laugh at me, while i was waiting for the bus, or even just walk past them, because i visibly show i'm Alterhuman.

I've had a situation a few weeks ago where i was going for a walk before it got dark. I sat down on a bench on a hill to watch the sunset (it was one of those long ones that go around a small tree) before i sat down i noticed a guy coming my way, at first i thought it was a guy i knew from a year ago that i considered a friend but he turned out to be awful (anyway)

I wasn't sure so i sat on a spot on the bench so if it really was him he wouldn't recognize me.I looked at the sunset for a short while until i could hear his footsteps, he then just stopped midway. I was sure it was the guy i knew so i prepared to have to say hello (lol)

You know that feeling when you just KNOW someone is staring at you despite not seeing them?? Yes, that.

I looked back at him for a moment to see who it was, it was not that guy i knew. Which honestly makes the situation even weirder because now i could also see that he WAS looking at me. I turned around again and looked at my phone and pretend i was texting someone, when i could hear that he was coming closer 💀🙏

For a second i thought he just wanted to watch the sunset too and that it was just an unfortunate situation that we both looked at eachother at the same time. He didn't sit down tho, he just stood there, quite close to me.

I thought, ok, maybe i'm just paranoid, but i swear bro came closer like every second.

Which he did. At one point he was so close that i could hear him mumble to himself and breathe. I didn't wanna move tho, i wanted to see the sunset.

I turned around again at one point and he was STILL staring, and guess what he was staring at, the tail i had on. He ended up sitting right next to me despite there being enough space and just stared. He just had that creepy af vibe. (Little reminder that we were pretty much alone and i was like 3 times shorter than him, i was genuinely afraid atp)

I ended up leaving and when i looked back i saw that he also left. Maybe it really WAS just my paranoia and anxiety, but it's so obvious he acted that way because my fit was "weird"

And that's exactly where my point starts, I would still be considered the weirdo in this situation. Despite just chilling and watching the sun I'M the freak, not the guy who actually bothered and scared someone to the point they had to leave, all because they are visibly different.

If anything, people would excuse behaviour like his.

Don't get me wrong, i understand that by going out like that i will get attention, both negative and positive. And in itself i'm ok with that, it's something that's annoying but ok yeah it happens. But i will never understand why people don't just ask, i will never understand why people end up ruining my mood just because i'm walking down a street.

But despite all of this i'll never hide who and what i am

[mommyslittlebird]

It Felt Like Coming Home

WandaNat x Reader

Summary: After being strong for so long, the veil starts to slip.

CW: Dissociation, Crying, Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: Gang, I don't know how long this slow burn is gonna last. I might have to adjust to a medium paced burn, cause I apparently don't know how to write a blossoming relationship in a compelling way. For that reason, this one is kinda short.

Chapter 3 of A Room of Your Own

The next morning you found yourself awake earlier than usual. Again. You had a habit of not sleeping well when adjusting to new environments. So you once again made your way to the kitchen before sunrise, where you once again found Wanda leaned up against the counter in the same silk robe from yesterday.

She smiled over her coffee mug when she saw you. “Good morning! Can I make you a cup of coffee?”

You nodded, taking a seat on a stool at the island. 

“Same as yesterday? With my creamer?” 

“Yes please,” you yawned. 

She slid the mug across the island and leaned forward against the counter. “Did you sleep okay?”

You took a sip of coffee and nodded. You hadn’t really slept okay, but you didn’t have any desire to share that with Wanda. She was clearly trying very hard to make you comfortable. She wasn’t buying it. There was clearly something under the surface that didn’t escape her notice. She let the silence sit for a long moment, hoping you would say something. There was a warm glimmer in her green eyes urging you to speak up. You looked down into your mug, idly tapping the mug with your pointer finger. 

Realizing you were going to need more prompting, Wanda spoke again. “How are you feeling? About everything.”

You shrugged, not looking back up at her. You felt surprisingly fine, aside from not sleeping much. But there was another feeling too. One you couldn’t quite describe. It felt like you were stuck in a perpetual hypnopompic state, trapped in the liminal space between being asleep and awake. You were probably just tired. “I’m alright. Just tired, I think. I always have a bit of trouble sleeping in new places.”

Wanda nodded, not entirely satisfied with your answer, but unwilling to press you any further. 

You both turned your head as a very tired looking Natasha came through the doorway. Even with bedhead and tired eyes, she was beautiful. And the smile that spread across Wanda's face as her wife approached was breathtaking. They were picturesque: a type of beauty you could see even through your grief. You had a good feeling about them. Naive as it may be, you were compelled to trust them.

“Morning Y/N,” she yawned, wrapping her arm around Wanda’s waist. “I trust Wanda is taking care of you?” 

You nodded and smiled at them both. “She is.”

“Mmm, she always does,” she hummed, kissing her wife’s cheek. Natasha poured herself a cup of coffee, setting up next to you on the island. She slid you a pen and a pad of paper. “Wands and I are gonna go to the store in a bit. If you’re up for it, you can write down a list of the things you want. Favorite foods, snacks, school supplies, whatever you want.”

You cautiously took the pen. “Oh you all don’t have to go shopping for me or anything just because I’m staying here.”

Natasha leaned against the island, bracing her elbows against the marble. “What if I want to?” She asked in a low, almost testing tone before straightening back up. “It’s really no problem. We’re going to the store anyway. No reason to have you make a separate trip.”

You smiled. You really did hate the grocery store, so you weren’t going to argue. “Careful,” you said lightheartedly. “I might get used to you spoiling me. Then you’ll really have to kick me out.”

Wanda chuckled. She loved seeing this witty, playful side of you peak out beneath your shy, meek exterior. Natasha seemed to bring it out of you. Natasha seemed to bring it out of a lot of people. You couldn’t see the mischievous smirk that spread across her face. “Oh don’t worry. By the time Nat and I let you go you’ll be so high maintenance you won’t settle for anything less. I think you’re due for a good spoiling.” 

A faint blush rose to your cheeks as you finished your list and slid it back to Natasha. “Five items. Woah. I tell you what Wanda, this kid really pushes the limits,” Natasha teased, setting the pen and paper back down in front of you. “Make it ten and I’ll promise to reign in Wanda when it comes to spoiling.” She gives you a wink as you quickly scribble down a few more things. 

************

After a quick trip upstairs to get dressed and ready, they both headed off to the store, leaving you alone to explore the house. The house wasn’t necessarily a “mansion”, per se, but it was certainly bigger than any house you’d ever lived in. Every room had its own special charm. You carefully perused all the repurposed bedrooms and storage spaces you came across, thoroughly exploring all of your surroundings.

Your favorite room, though, was Wanda’s office. It appeared to be a repurposed bedroom on the top floor with a massive window lining the wall and a huge L-shaped desk. It was cluttered, but in a way that made it look more lived-in than messy. Best of all, there was a small indentation in the wall where you guessed there used to be a closet that Wanda had fashioned into a reading nook. The nook sat, pristine and unused, but you could see yourself curling up there for hours. Maybe Wanda would let you sit here and read while she worked. 

You were so caught up in your thoughts you didn’t even hear the front door click open as Wanda and Natasha returned from the store. 

“Y/N? We’re back!” You heard Natasha call from the foyer. You quickly left the office, closing the door as if you were scared they would catch you. You weren’t sure why the idea made you so nervous. They made it clear you were free to explore. You just naturally felt like an intruder, despite being a welcome guest.

“And we have a surprise for you!” Wanda sang as you came down the steps. 

She sat down a number of paper bags before pulling a mossy green blanket from one of them and handing you the silky soft material. You smiled and took it from her, rubbing the soft material against your cheek. 

“I know we’re still getting to know each other, but I noticed yesterday how much you love soft material and I thought you might like a new blanket for your new bed,” she explained, swaying nervously on her feet. She was worried you weren’t going to like it. 

You hummed contently, unwrapping the blanket and throwing it over your shoulders. It was so incredibly soft and it was big enough to cover your whole bed. Much more suitable than the throw blankets you’d brought with you. “Thank you so much. It’s so nice and soft.”

“And we got some popcorn and ice cream because we were thinking about having a little movie night,” Natasha added. “What do you think? We could gather up all the softest blankets and build you a little nest.”

You stood still, shocked by the suggestion. You thought in staying with them, you’d just be a roommate, coming and going with a few scattered interactions. But this wasn’t just a passing interaction like morning coffee was. They were proposing that you spend the evening together. They wanted to hang out with you.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to,” Wanda blurted out after a long moment of silence. “You’ve had a rough couple of days. If it’s more beneficial to just take some time to yourself, hang out in your room, that’s absolutely fine. It’s just a suggestion. If you wanted company.” 

“A movie sounds nice,” you said quietly, pulling the blanket tight over your shoulders. 

Wanda visibly relaxed and smiled softly. “Then I’ll put these groceries away while you two find some blankets.”

“I found one!” Natasha shouted playfully, picking up your blanket wrapped form and carrying you to the corner of the couch where she gently set you down. “You stay here and get comfortable. I’ll go round up some more soft things.”

Both women returned a few minutes later, Wanda with a big bowl of buttery popcorn, and Natasha with a random amalgamation of blankets, pillows, and stuffed animals that she promptly dropped directly on top of you, burying you in the heap. 

“Natalia Alinovna Romanoff!” Wanda shouted disapprovingly, setting down the popcorn bowl and rushing to dig you out. You emerged with a giddy, content smile, snuggled up with a fuzzy body pillow. “She could’ve suffocated.”

Natasha jokingly rolled her eyes, which earned her a playful slap on the bicep from Wanda. She couldn’t possibly stay mad at Natasha after watching you happily wiggle under the comforting weight of the soft blankets. You twisted and flopped around like a puppy walking in circles and scratching its pillow so it could lay in its bed just right. The women smiled and giggled affectionately. 

After a few minutes, you finally settled, surrounded in a nest of blankets. 

“Do you have something in particular you’d like to watch?” Wanda asked, grabbing the remote and settling in next to Natasha on one end of the large couch. 

You shrugged but they couldn’t see it under all the blankets. “I don’t know. Maybe Robin Hood or The Aristocats. Something lighthearted and old.”

Wanda clicked the remote, waving her arm in different directions to try to get the TV to respond. After a moment, Natasha took the remote and easily found an old movie on Disney +. Wanda sneered and scrunched up her face. Natasha kissed her nose. 

The movie played in the background, but you spent more time paying attention to the women curled up on the end of the couch. They weren’t “cuddling”, per se, but their bodies weren’t pressed tightly together with their legs nearly intertwined. They both looked so at peace with each other. You yearned for that feeling. 

“You wanna join us?” Natasha asked almost playfully when she caught you staring. 

Wanda, who was closer to you, opened her arm and beckoned you over. 

You paused for a moment before emerging from your blanket nest, crawling up and laying hesitantly beside her. You rested your head in the crook of her arm, but kept your hands curled up against your own chest. 

“Well hang on now, I want some cuddles too. Get over here,” Natasha said with a mischievous smile before pulling you in between them. You giggled as you were gently pulled over Wanda plopped into a small spot on the couch in between them. You nearly head butted Natasha in the process. Wanda pulled your new blanket from the heap and tucked it around the three of you. Natasha wrapped her arm around you and smiled. “Much better.”

You settled into Natasha's chest with your back pressed up against Wanda while she ran her hand gently up and down your spine. You sighed, content in their cocoon of warmth. You felt so supported and loved, affectionately squished between the two women. 

“Are you alright, honey? You're shaking,” Natasha asked, looking down at you with a hint of concern. You furrowed your brow in confusion. You weren’t shaking. But as you started to pay more attention to your body, you noticed she was right. There was a small, almost imperceivable tremble in your muscles. Almost imperceivable unless you happen to be laying on top of someone, of course. 

“And your muscles are so tight. Like you're constricting your entire body,” Wanda added, sitting up to look at your face. “If this is making you uncomfortable we don’t have to…”

“No,” you interrupted. “No it’s not that. It’s just…” You were suddenly aware of your body in a way you hadn’t been in quite some time. It felt like returning to a home you didn’t remember leaving. It was like when you’re going somewhere and you get to your destination, and you can’t remember the drive. You were just… home.

Before you even recognized it, the shield you had unintentionally built started to crumble. Tears fell from your eyes, wetting Natasha’s shirt. “Oh poor baby, you must be exhausted, living with your body so… activated all the time,” Wanda cooed sympathetically.

Neither of them were surprised. In fact, both women acted as if they had anticipated this. Natasha pulled you closer, cradling your head under her chin and gently rocking you. “It’s okay. You're safe now, baby. We’re not gonna let anything happen to you. We’re gonna protect you.”

Their words only made you cry harder, but in a freeing, cathartic way. Wanda rubbed the back of your head gently, leaning over to say “Let it out. We’ve got you, angel. You don’t have to be scared anymore.”

Their words seeped into your bones, giving you permission to crumble as you sobbed into Natasha’s chest. They both continue to soothe you, rubbing your back and stroking your hair. Neither of them chided or rushed you, giving you time to adjust. Wanda brought you some water. Natasha helped you sit up as she pressed the cool glass to your lips. 

As your sobs faded to sniffles and your eyes started to droop, Natasha whispered “It’s alright. You can fall asleep here. We’ll get you to bed.” You drifted off, finally relaxed and at peace.

[curly-fry-3]

hi, I'm the person who asked about earlier. I was thinking about a Dean x fem!reader fic, were reader is like a super badass mercenary, who got into hunting after meeting the Winchester, and is also shy as hell. Thank you! Your first fic on this account and I already love you!!!!!!

𖦹Awkward Confessions𖦹

𖦹summary𖦹 You thought dean hated you till a jerk at the bar helps him realize how he really feels

𖦹pairing𖦹 Dean Winchester x Reader

𖦹word count𖦹 2,020

𖦹notes𖦹 THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE REQUEST omg I can't believe people actually like my writing I had so much fun writing this one. I wrote like three pages on my doc and I was so in the zone I hadn't realized it had been TWO HOURS anyway I hope this was what you had in mind and you like it<3

Dean didn't like you. It's not like you did anything–well, anything to him– he just didn't trust you. You two had met when he and his brother had saved you from a vengeful spirit. He never thought much of you, he's helped a lot of people in his life and you seemed to be just like the rest. He never expected to run into you again, what shocked him the most is that you were hunting…like hunting monsters. That's why he couldn't trust you. Why would somebody who got tortured by a supernatural being actively hunt other monsters out (ok hypocrite). Especially you, he remembers you being so shy–reserved and scared–he read you as the type of girl to run, cry, and try to forget. 

 You had to have ulterior motives-technically you did–you were paid to hunt monsters. It was hard work but ohh it paid good. When people are scared for their life, thay will start naming some big numbers. You had run into Dean and Sam a couple times over the years (how could you not) always finishing the job before they could even do any research. You may have annoyed Dean but he could respect the grind–not that he would ever tell you. 

Now he and Sam are speeding down the road, heading to an abandoned farm where–based on their research–a nest of vampires lives. They pulled into the dirt parking lot in front of the barn and pulled out their weapons while going over the plan. Dean went in through the front entrance, passing a familiar car on his way, while Sam circled around back. Dean quietly crept through the barn until he heard the sound of fighting. Assuming it was Sam, He raced through the empty rooms till he came across…you?

Dean stopped and rolled his eyes out of frustration. That's why he recognized the car. Why are you always stealing his jobs? He did all that hard work researching for you to just take all the glory. And how the hell are you taking on a whole nest on your own? You're too good at what you do and it pissed him off.

You finish decapitating the last vampire, its head falling to the ground with a loud thud after spraying you in blood. You only notice Sam and Dean have shown up after catching your breath. “Oh…hi” You look at dean awkwardly “sorry, did I take your hunt”

Dean gives you a deadpan look, “yeah–yeah you kinda did” His jaw clenches in frustration 

You flushed in embarrassment “I didn't know you would be here”

“Whatever” He huffs out like a child 

Sam interjects to ease the tension, “how bout we get these bodies burned and have a couple drinks?”

“I would never say no to some help” you say gratefully

Dean gives sam a pointed look, “As long as your paying”

After cleaning up the bodies and cleaning up themselves (who knew killing monsters was messy) the three of them headed to the bar in their separate cars and met up in the parking lot. Dean was the one forcing her to drive separately saying she would mess up baby's backseat somehow. For how much Dean doesn't like you, he thinks about you a lot more than he should. Maybe that's the real reason you frustrate him, you and your stupid face. The way you flush at anything–how do you kill a vamp like it's nothing but shrink under his gaze–you're an enigma and you're stuck in his head. 

Driving to the bar you couldn't help but think about Dean. why was he always so frustrated with you, you didn't want him to hate you–you wished he liked you (like really liked you) You think about him a lot more than you should, he probably forgets about you the second he drives away, but you cant help yourself. Anyone with eyeballs would understand. He's just so…perfect looking. Sure it's a stupid schoolgirl crush but who cares, he hates you. You always try to be so nice, but he's so intimidating with that stupid face on his face. And the worst part is he's a good guy on top of all his hotness. You try to push all the silly thoughts away as you pull into the dive bar parking lot behind the impala, he doesn't like you at all and you're too shy to say anything. Just get drunk and forget it–maybe find a hookup.

You get out of your car and walk across the dirt lot to greet Sam and Dean. “who wants some beers…on me”

“I would love for you to spend money on me” Dean responds with his signature smile

You flush slightly at his smirk “Well then why don't you find us a booth Mr.” You ask while your group enters the bar “you guys like Del Sol right, I think you told me it was your favorite Dean?”

Sam nods “yeah thanks”

As you head over to order the drinks, Dean slides into the nearest empty booth. How did you remember that's his favorite beer, he didn't even remember telling you. There you were being sweet again, god you're infuriating.

You walk up to the bar and patiently wait for the bartender's attention. Unluckily you caught another man's attention before you could place your order. You could feel him looking at you. When his gaze started to roam your figure you started praying–please god let this man leave me alone, he looks like he doesnt wash his asscrack cause ‘its gay’. And please let this bartender have a break so he notices I'm here waiting. I guess you're not one of god's favorites cause soon enough the man approached you “hey doll, whatcha doin here alone”

You awkwardly reply, avoiding eye contact, very obviously uncomfortable “just trying to order some beer”

“Nice, I like a girl who doesn’t order no fruity drink” he tries to flirt back (is he serious, read the room)

Dean huffs in annoyance “lord, what is taking her so long” how do you just continue to frustrate him? When he looks over and notices you being approached by some guy he's even more frustrated. Who is this tool? What is he doing? Wait–why should Dean care, he shouldn't. He looks over at you to see how you're reacting to this guy and it's not good. You're so obviously uncomfortable. This dude sucks. He quickly gets up and makes his way to the bar to save you. When he approaches the man pays no attention to him and continues to talk your ear off about how amazing he is. ‘Yeah sure talk about yourself, that gets the ladies going’ Dean thinks. He quickly shuts down the one sided conversation when he wraps his arm around your waist, making you blush and freeze up. “Hey sweetheart, you get lost tryna get us some beers” He jokes to make the intrusion natural and gives the man a hard stare, sizing him up.

The man looks at Dean with an intimidated expression “what, you her boyfriend or something?”

“Yeah actually” Dean spits out, unable to hide his distaste for the man

The man started getting defensive and put his hands up in surrender “ hey look dude she didn't say she was taken and she was basically asking for it, going out in that low cut top”

That stopped dean in his tracks “what”

For some reason the man started thinking that Dean would be in his side “yeah, the slut was flirting back and everything”

Deans eyebrows raise in shock and he grits his teeth in anger “I dont know who you think your taking to but it better not be me”

You interject, not wanting to get into a bar fight “ let's just get out of here” You pull dean by the arm and take him to the parking lot

As dean follows your lead he turns back and says to the man “you say some shit like that again and im breaking your nose”

When you and dean make it outside he starts pacing and complaining to you, still riled up from the incident while you stand there awkwardly taking the situation in. Why did Dean say he was your boyfriend? I guess to get the guy to stop–but he could have just said he was a friend. You're overthinking so much that everything Dean is muttering about is going in one ear and out the other until you hear something that short circuits your brain.

“Real men don't do shit like that, I would never do that. That guy doesn't even deserve to look at you–calling you a slut–that's bullshit…” Dean rambled on but that was all you picked out before you started spiraling again. What did he mean by ‘I would never do that’? Does he think about you like that? And why is he so worked up? you know that he's a great guy, he would probably do that for any girl but he's still goin on–omg does dean like you? Omg stop being delusional. Why don't you just ask him, if he doesn't like you then he already hates you so it wouldn't ruin anything. I can't do that, that's so embarrassing. Before you could make up your mind about what to do, Dean's voice cuts through your thoughts again, “are you ok?”

“Do you like me” you blurt out before you could think “omg im sorry I didn't mean to say that”

“Are you asking if I have a crush on you…like were in highschool or something” Dean asks, teasing you

You blush at his words, awkwardly avoiding eye contact, “shut up…im not good with these kinda talks…it's just…you said you wouldn't treat me like that and i'm thinking why are you comparing yourself–or putting yourself in that scenario–if you didnt wanna take me out. Also you're like overly worked up about this” you quickly ramble “and I need you to be serious about this, no teasing, cause i'm not good at confrontation–or whatever you would call this”

A look of realization washes over his face, holy shit–now that he's thinking about it–he does like you. Like, highschool crush pull her pigtails to make her notice you–like you. His expression softens as he responds “sweetheart, i'll admit i've been thinking about you more than I should, I never realized what it was–god i've never been this open before–you're sweet, and badass when you need to be. You get so cute when I make you blush. You remember things about me that I don't remember telling you. You're nice to me no matter how much of a dick I am…maybe I do like you”

You release a breath you didn't know you were holding in, “oh thank god, if you didnt I would have just crawled up into a hole and died”

He lightly chuckles “i'm guessing you like me too”

“Duh einstein” You tease and chuckle in response

He finds himself laughing along with you admiring your smile. When the laughter died down it was just you and Dean staring at each other in anticipation till he closed the gap between you and cupped your cheek. His bright green eyes looked deep into yours “can I–”

You smash your lips onto his before he could finish the question. He quickly reciprocates and you share a sweet passionate kiss, expressing everything you're too shy to say. Dean tilts his head to deepen it until you two hear sams footsteps approaching and quickly pull apart, a trail of spit keeping you connected.

“Fucking finally, you two are so annoying” Sam states, relieved that the tension between you and dean is gone. 

“Shut up” Dean breathes out weakly and pulls you closer to his chest.

Yeah maybe you got covered in vamp blood, got hit on by a creep, and never actually got the beer you came to get but you would still call the day a success as you're standing in the dirt parking lot of a trashy bar, wrapped in dean's arms. Bless that lady for paying you to hunt this nest.

as always sorry of there are any typos

love y'all<333

[agaricus-bitorquis]

EVBOVERSE CHARACTERS AS FURBYS P1 - PARKOUR CIVILIZATION

I assign different evboverse characters furbys. That's lowk it I just have a furby special intrest. PART ONE!!!

This will work a little differently from my lifesteal one. It's split up by series and I will focus on characters that I view having significant roles. Side characters will (probably) get their Time, just let me get the big 3 evboverses (Parkour, PVP, Simulation) out the way first ;P

IF YOU WANT TO SEE CLOWNPIERCE/PARKOUR VILLIAN GO TO MY LIFESTEAL P2 IT DOESNT CHANGE

EVBO - 1995 Turtle Furby

There are soo many good green furbys, it just came down to which one suited which evbo version. I think that it makes most sense to leave some of the other ones for PVP and SIM

EMF - 1995 Mink Furby

Aparently this Is a veryyy 1995 generation heavy group! Well well well... I'm not actually complaining honestly. Anyway I'm a big fan of fluffy EMF headcanons and I think the Mink furby really hits that

SEAWATT - 2013 Purple-Blue Crystal Furby Boom

Is this a boring one? Maybe. Because it was SO easy. After watching PVPCIV it's so easy to realise how unserious he was in this. Holy shit. Like he has 2 serious lines when he's talking about the fighter layer and when he dies

[ghostcasket]

kitty in the sunshine ☀️

[ashenberry]

[ID in alt]

hi hey hello. you should go check out @u3pxx 's piece for the mea culpa zine I just made a fun and silly continuation of it because im normal about it <3

more fun and silly shenanigans under the cut

[ID in alt]

[tee-dohrnii]

Dancing among the stars

Based off of this blurry reference picture I've been using of Terra Jolé and Sasha Farber 🫠

Whew anyways time for a break

[sysig]

Blood sugar levels (Patreon)

[icewindandboringhorror]

I know this is just a silly bad quality random screencap of a screencap that I found on facebook lol, BUT it's a succinct enough image to easily describe the concept in a quick/accessible way hopefully :

-

(and of course, feel free to elaborate in tags, etc.! (especially elaborating about other senses as well.. can you "hear" in your mind just as well as you can "see"? taste? etc.) It's an interesting topic to me, as someone who's like a 4.5 at MOST lol. I'm curious what option will be the most common :0c )