#but I’d be so nervous about it because I know nothing about teaching and teaching people your age seems so weird and stressful

[loveofmylouis]

.

[mindmelter]

Hollow Justice

It all started when I was passing by a group of logistic workers during my lunch break from the office. They were loud, obnoxious, and unfortunately, also ridiculously hot.

Our office received a new shipment of supplies that day, so the logistics team was busy unloading the deliveries into the warehouse.

One of them—a tall, Brazilian, bearded guy in a reflective vest—caught my eye immediately. But then I heard them mocking a young, shy, office guy who had just walked past. Their words hit like knives, and the shy guy’s face turned red as he quickened his pace.

I knew him from work. We never spoke to each other because we were from different departments, but he seemed like a nice guy.

"Look at that white collar faggot, even his walk is gay" The bearded logistic worker mocked while loading a heavy box into the cart.

"I think he was looking at your ass dude!" His coworker laughed.

"I will teach him to keep his eyes to himself next time!"

Something in me snapped. I wasn’t just going to let that slide. So, I followed the shy guy and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Hey,” I said, trying to sound casual but flirty. “I think you’re cute. Can I get your number?”

He blinked at me, wide-eyed, as if I’d just asked him to marry me. “Me?” he asked, almost like he didn’t believe it.

“Yes, you,” I said, smiling. He hesitated, but after a second, he pulled out his phone and we shared numbers. He looked so surprised like no one had ever hit on him before, and honestly, that just made me angrier at those jerks.

Number secured, I turned on my heels and went back to the group of homophobic workers. They were still laughing, still making my blood boil. I focused on the Brazilian guy—he was the worst of the bunch. Lucky for me, he broke off from the group and headed into the bathroom. Perfect.

I followed him in, keeping quiet as he used the urinals. Once the coast was clear, I made my move. From my pocket, I pulled out a syringe filled with my special bodysuit serum. As he turned to wash his hands, I jabbed it right into his neck. He gasped, and his body started to convulse as the serum took effect. Within seconds, he was deflating on the floor, his muscles, skin, and bones disintegrating away until all that was left was an empty husk—that handsome and tall blue collar worker turned into nothing more than a hollow bodysuit.

I dragged the limp bodysuit into the stall and took a moment to admire it. I lifted his head by the hair. His head was stretched down by the weight of his beard, making him slack-jawed, and his eyes were now just empty holes.

"Not so smug now, are you? I will show you who is a faggot," I mocked him.

I stepped into the suit, feeling his skin stretch and seal around me like a suit. Within seconds, I was him. His voice, his scent, his muscles—they were all mine.

I pulled out my phone, snapped a quick mirror selfie, and sent it to the shy guy's number with a message: *“I’m sorry for being such a prick to you earlier. I only act like that in front of my friends because I’m a closeted gay guy. Can't let them know I'm just a cock hungry whore. Please come and meet me in the bathroom. I will let you fuck my ass as an apology.”*

Then, I waited. As I waited sitting in the toilet, I played with my new thick, hard, brown cock. I would stroke it, and sometimes slap it, watching it bounce. I wondered about how many times he used it to fuck women, probably a lot... I then grabbed his ID badge that was on his neck.

Name: Thiago Henrique da Silva / Date of Birth: March 15, 1998 / Age: 26 / License Class: Class A (Allows him to operate heavy machinery)

I chuckled and then went back to play with Thiago's thick cock. After half an hour, I was starting to wonder if the guy would really show up when I heard the bathroom door creak open. I peeked through the stall door and saw him—nervous but intrigued. I opened the door and called him in.

He hesitated for a second, but the bulge in his pants said everything I needed to know. He slowly stepped in and locked the door. I could tell he was still not sure if the logistic worker was serious or if he was just about to prank him. I needed to show him that there was nothing for him to worry about.

So I kneeled in front of him and pulled down his pants. His hard throbbing cock sprang free and I wrapped the shaft with the worker's big calloused hand. I slapped his cock against Thiago's handsome face and winked at him in a flirty way. His face was priceless, he was shocked that a hot manly stud like Thiago was acting like a slut. I soon wrapped my new thick lips around his shaft and gave him a blowjob that would make him remember it for the rest of his life.

I suddenly felt his hands around my head and he started to facefuck me roughly, so rough that the mask started to slip off. Thiago's face became misplaced over my real face. It was a sight that would make the gay office worker run away and have nightmares forever.

Luckily, he had his eyes closed at the time, so I quickly fixed the bodysuit's mask, placing it where it should be.

After blowing him for some time, I stood up and pulled down my uniform pants, offering him Thiago's tight ass to fuck. It wasn't my first time being fucked, but the man I was wearing was still a virgin, so the office guy had to take some time to loosen the bodysuit's asshole. Once he was sure it was loose enough, he fucked Thiago like he was his personal bitch.

The boy might not be the best looking, but he sure knew how to fuck.

And me? I moaned, grunted, and played the part of the closeted homophobic blue-collar worker who couldn’t get enough of cock. When it was over and he finished inside me, he straightened his clothes, kissed me, and whispered, “That was amazing. I forgive you,” Then, he left, looking happier than ever.

As for the bodysuit, I didn’t need it anymore. I pulled it off and threw it into the toilet. I then grabbed a new syringe, injected the bodysuit with it, and watched as what was left of Thiago dissolved into black goo. I flushed the goo down the toilet and threw his uniform in the trash bin, but kept his ID badge for some reason...

I washed my hands and walked out of the bathroom with a smirk on my face, just as my lunch break was ending—justice had been served on my plate.

[seellove]

Could You Stay a Little Longer // drug dealer!sukuna x reader

Masterlist

Chapter 4 // (8.8k words) // Explicit - 18+

\|/ AO3 - Chapter 4 | << Chapter 3 | Chapter 5 >>

You're pursuing a master degree across the country, but are currently back in your hometown housesitting for your parents. They've told you all about their undesirable new neighbor, but when you start to get to know said neighbor, you realize he isn't all that bad. Your controlling boyfriend won't let up on you and you grapple with enjoying the company of this drug dealing neighbor boy, Sukuna. Nothing about this is going the way you planned, but is it so bad to let yourself be treated well for a change?

The cultural setting for this is technically economically depressed, rural USA where good paying jobs are hard to come by and there's not many opportunities in small towns, but it could really be anywhere that meets this criteria!

Content Tags/Warnings Throughout Work: Reader and Sukuna are mid 20s, mentions of recreational drug use and drug dealing, mentions of abusive/controlling/manipulative relationship (not Sukuna), could possibly be considered cheating depending on your interpretation (not Sukuna), angst, smut, fluff, time skip, prison time, happy ending trust!

AN: FYI we go on a date but it's nothing super graphic. Also I don't know much about the inner workings of a relationship with an inmate, so I apologize if anything seems weird, I just hope I am capturing the complicated feelings that would come with it. Italicized portions are letters between us and Sukuna and bold time stamps are how many months have passed since Sukuna was arrested.

2 Months

Sukuna,

Sorry I haven’t reached out until now. It took awhile to figure out how to mail this to you, and it was hard to know what to say at first. I feel bad talking about my life out here knowing you are confined to a cell. Your lawyer told me your hearing is next month. Thank you for letting him contact me and keep me in the loop. Mr. Higuruma is a nice man and seems like a good lawyer. I don’t wanna to get my hopes up, but I’m optimistic that he can help make this better, maybe that’s just me in denial though.

Enough rambling, how are you though? Are you nervous? Scared? I’m sorry I’m so naive to what prison life is like…have you made friends? If that’s a stupid question just tell me. What’s your room like? I have so many questions, if this is annoying just tell me. The last thing I wanna do is irritate you considering you’ll get one of these every other month.

I’ve been able to hang out with my friends a lot since I got back home. When they heard I’d broken up with Cam, they were so happy. They never held it against me, but they truly didn’t know how else to help me while we were together because I wouldn’t listen to them. Having an outside party like you was really what I needed to finally cut the cord. It’s weird not being around him all the time, but I’m slowly learning how to trust myself and be independent again. 

Surprisingly he has pretty much left me alone. I think me cheating on him knocked him down a few pegs and made him see I’m not the huge pushover he made me out to be. Oh well, onto bigger and better things. 

The spring semester is almost over for me, I’m planning to teach some undergrad classes to make a little extra money but other than that I’m going to try and take it easy. Maybe do some hiking and camping, I’d like to climb some of the mountains out here so I’m going to start preparing for when the snow melts off the highest peaks.

I’ve included my address with this, so I hope you can write me back. I miss you, feel free to call me anytime. 

I hope this isn’t a weird sign off, but I do love you and hope you are okay. Don’t feel pressured to reciprocate.

3 months

Sukuna smiles when he sees the letter come in. The guard had slid it through the bars before he woke up so it was a nice surprise.

How am I? Fucking bored out of my mind, he thinks to himself, chuckling under his breath. You are so nice though and he appreciates how thoughtful you are, but goddamn anything you share is more interesting than what’s in here. Starting at a concrete wall and a steel wall of bars can only be so stimulating.

He won’t be calling you, that will just make things harder for him and you. He stands by his words of wanting you to have a normal life and leaving you to figure out whether or not you want to leave him behind. 

God he wants to reciprocate those three words. Nothing in his mind right now is constant, every day feels different even though the motions are the same: Wake up, breakfast, back to the cell, lunch, some yard time, back to the cell, dinner, back to the cell. Day in and day out.

While the physical routine is repetitive, his emotions and feelings are a roller coaster, never knowing how he will feel when he wakes up in the morning and when his head hits the pillow at night. He has no idea what his future holds, everything in the hands of some damn judge who just knows him by his charges and a lawyer who probably just sees him as another paycheck. He’ll get paid whether he wins or loses.

The only thing he can be sure of is his love for you, and that grounds him just a little. The thought that someone outside these walls cares and worries for him brings some comfort in those moments of panic.

Sukuna’s parents were beside themselves when they heard and offered no support. He tried to explain himself, but to them, it was just another failure in the litany of fuckups that was his adult life. 

How could he blame them? He just got lucky he met you when he did, you didn’t know him as the kid who could never get his shit together, who’d let everyone down for years. The piece of shit who wasted his parent’s money and time. 

Then again, you are joining him on this next chapter of his life which will surely be nothing but him disappointing you, so maybe you’ll feel the same way by the time he gets out, or more likely, sooner than that and drop his ass. This is why he doesn’t want to get his hopes up. 

He reads the letter over and over while lying on his bunk and eventually starts to read it every night before bed. Touching the same paper that your hands held before you sealed it up, the smeared ink that he can tell you brushed by accident brings him a comfort that he can’t explain. Maybe if he’s lucky, you kissed it before sliding it into the envelope. 

He stares up at the same ceiling he’s been looking at for three months now. Sukuna’s not sure if he’s slowly starting to lose his mind, but he swears he can discern patterns and shapes in the texture of the material. Squinting his eyes, he tries to put a name to the shapes, but it all just looks like a jumbled mess, an accurate representation of his current mental state.

His mind wanders to you as it normally does, the crushing feeling of shame and remorse settling in as he thinks about how he could be with you right now if he hadn’t stopped driving, if he’d let that family die. 

Having nothing to do but think all day does dangerous things to his mind. Once he gets sentenced and settled for a while, things should get better and he should get to participate in the various prison programs and activities available to a long term inmate. For now all he can do is work out and watch his pink hair get longer and messier. Oh and overthink every millisecond of his life to date and wonder what you were doing and who you were thinking about when you’re alone.

He prays you won’t hate him, but he wouldn’t blame you if you did when it’s all said and done.

4 months

Tomato girl!

Long time no talk. I’m assuming you know what my sentencing is from Mr. Hiruguma. Ten years with the opportunity for parole. Shit sucks, I’m determined to hopefully get this parole though, whenever that is. Mr. H said usually after serving a quarter to a third of the time they’ll reassess, but he said depending on the needs of the prison system and if they need more space, inmates can get moved around or even moved to parole early. 

How am I doing? Honestly, scared, sad, bored, any and all combinations of these words. 

Some things I am hopeful about though? Now that I’ve been processed and placed in my new home (long term detention facility :P) I can start participating in the prison programs. Thankfully I was deemed not a threat or a danger to others and myself, so I was able to go to a lower security facility that is focused on rehabilitation. I should be able to finish my degree, AND, they have trade programs I can get into as well. Pretty cool right? I had no idea this was even a thing. 

So maybe my plans aren’t as out of reach as I thought, just a bit delayed. It’s the first glimmer of hope I’ve felt in months. There is something relieving about not being caught up in a life of moving drugs and running an empire. Like I can finally just breathe and start over. Obviously being locked up is not the ideal way I’d have liked to do that, but I’m grasping at anything positive at this point.

I’ve made a few friends since coming to my new facility. My cellmate, Gojo, was a dealer from a rival organization. There’s some bad blood, but at the end of the day we respect each other. He wants to be better too, he’s got a girl on the outside, so we have that in common. He has a kid though he hasn’t seen. He got her pregnant right before he got arrested so she was born while he was incarcerated. He’s never met her, never seen her first anything. It makes me sad and it’s not even my kid. 

…you aren’t pregnant with a little mini me are you? The thought never crossed my mind until I met him and told him about you. I might actually lose it if that’s the case. I wouldn’t hate it though, it would just mean I’m the fuckin’ man and have the most elite swimmers ha. Just wouldn’t want to leave you alone to go through that.

Fuck Cam, don’t wanna hear about him anymore. He’s lucky I’m locked up is all I can say. I’m glad he’s gone for good. 

Please share anything and everything, I wanna hear it all. Also ask me random questions, nothing is off limits.

Hiking and camping sound awesome, I haven't done that in years but now I want to when I get out. I love fishing too. Something so relaxing when it’s just you and the river. Even if I didn’t catch anything, it was never a wasted day in my eyes.

Hopefully I’ll have a more interesting update when I’m more settled, but I guess for now I’ll just buckle up for this ten year long ride and hope some luck is on my side.

With love and a kiss on the cheek,

Sukuna

PS - do you ever seen patterns or objects in the texture of ceilings? Let me know, I’m collecting data.

5 months

You practically drop all your mail when you see the letter from Sukuna in your slot in the mail room. It takes all your willpower to wait to tear it open until you get up to your apartment.

You sit down on the couch and carefully open the envelope, not trusting yourself to stay standing once you finally lay eyes on it.

His lawyer had unfortunately shared the news about the sentencing and it had broken you when you heard. 

Your friends knew about the man behind bars. You’d shared the story one day when they dragged it out of you after breaking down in tears, overwhelmed by everything. They were very supportive and listened to everything you had to share, but also felt Sukuna wasn’t completely off base with wanting you to live your life. Ten years was a long ass time and it seemed unrealistic to expect you to wait for someone you’d known for so little time.

At one of your wine nights, you’d found his social media pages to show them what he looked like. Going through old pictures of young Sukuna had you all laughing, he was such a little punk and must’ve thought he was the hottest shit in high school and college with that fratty attire. White backwards hats over a mess of pink hair while holding red solo cups surely full of some kind of cheap beer with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth seemed to be his staple. You wished you could tease him in person but through a letter would have to do. 

They agreed though that his most recent pictures were hot and were very proud of you for fucking him all night.

Speaking of that, you were absolutely not pregnant. You can’t deny that the thought crossed your mind given how many times he’d blown his load inside you, but that birth control held strong, leaving you childfree. You can’t even fathom how much worse this could have been, raising your felon baby daddy’s child by yourself for ten years. Your parents would have just been thrilled. 

Which by the way, they knew nothing about what happened. Well, not exactly nothing, but an abridged version. Just that you’d met the neighbor and hung out with him a few times while you were house sitting. They were unaware of the anguish and suffering that had followed as everything blew up in your face.

7 months

Papa Kuna,

Let’s address the elephant in the room, you are not going to be a dad, at least with me…not sure about anyone before me though :D

That’s great that you get along with your cellmate. I’m sure it’s a little less lonely in there with someone you can at least interact with. I think being scared and nervous is completely normal. You got dropped into an unknown place where you knew nobody and had no idea how things operate, who wouldn’t be affected?

The news about your degree and trade school…that is so fantastic!! I looked into it too and sure enough, that’s a thing in other prisons. I hope they’ll see you want to be better when you get out and that helps your parole chances. 

I stalked your social media and saw some pictures of high school and college Sukuna. You were…something haha. Showed my friends too, we all had a good laugh, but we all agreed you were a cutie. I was so lame at that age you’d never have looked my way, I’m lucky I met you when I did. 

What is prison food like? I’ve been cooking a lot of Mexican food lately, throwing anything and everything into a taco. 

I’ve climbed three mountains so far this summer. I’ll have to show you the pictures one day, for now enjoy this stick figure drawing of me on a mountain at the bottom. I didn’t look nearly as happy as that horrible drawing shows me, more like a hot mess gasping for breath. But the views were amazing! I could see for an eternity it felt like, and I was really proud of myself for doing something like that. 

My classes I teach are full of some real brats. A lot of them are having to retake the class in the summer to stay on track and they just have the worst attitudes and seem to take it out on me. Like guys I didn’t tell you to fail, I’m just here. I don’t get paid enough for that shit.

Staring up at my ceiling now, I can see a few things. A dog, an alligator, and a banana are what I’m sort of seeing. What do you see? 

For your random questions:

Did you play any sports growing up? I played soccer and basketball.

What’s been your favorite vacation? Mine was a trip to a national park seeing all the animals. Especially grizzly and black bears.

What did you want to be when you grew up? I wanted to be a doctor but realized I’m scared of blood so quickly abandoned such endeavors.

Lots of love and a kiss on your dick,

Tomato girl

8 months

Sukuna’s jaw hit the floor with a gasp when he saw your sign off and then he got way too hard with the visual that bulldozed all rational thought out of his brain. 

“You good bro?” Gojo laughs from the other side of the cell, watching Sukuna’s face flush.

“No, not really,” Sukuna groans, staring up at the ceiling and adjusting himself as best he can. There’s no shame in here, no privacy, no secrecy, so he doesn’t really care.

“Get a sexy message?” Gojo teases. “If you did lemme see, gotta take what we can get in here.”

“She made a reference to sucking my dick,” Sukuna laughs, folding up your letter and tucking it under his pillow. “And no you can’t read it, for my eyes only.”

“Oh being possessive are we? Thought you said you two weren’t exclusive like that.” 

“Doesn’t mean I don’t love and adore her. I just can’t have her to myself right now,” Sukuna scoffs, pulling his shirt off now that he’s all hot and bothered. 

“Think she’s seeing other people?” Gojo asks. 

Sukuna shifts in discomfort at the thought. The images of you kissing his cock combined with the possibility of you getting fucked by someone else results in a whirlwind of emotions that he’s not sure how to process.

“I really hope not, but who am I to say? I don’t really wanna know honestly. Just want her to be there when I get out. I’d be okay never knowing. What about you?” 

“She better not be! Utahime better not bring my one year old daughter around other guys!” Gojo exclaims. “My daughter better never be around guys for that matter. Would you want your daughter hanging around pieces of shit like us?”

“Fuck no bro.”

Both guys laugh in response before Sukuna speaks again.

“Is she gonna bring the baby to see you?” 

“I told her not to until she’s older. While I’m dying to hold her, I don't want her coming to a place like this so young. It’s not right. It kills me to miss out on her firsts and knowing I left Utahime to be a single mom makes me feel like a disgrace. All I can do is make it up to her when I get out,” Gojo sighs, eyes getting glossy with tears. “What if your girl had gotten pregnant?”

Sukuna pauses before speaking. A part of him would love it. So full of something he made with you except for no one would know it’s his. People would see you pregnant and not realize you belong to him considering he’s locked away. Plus his baby being fatherless for a majority of their underage life is sickening. 

Then what? He randomly appears ten years later to a woman and child who don’t even know him? He’d be just another man to his child…a stranger. He swallows hard, trying to maintain his composure but he’s spiraling faster than he can keep up with. 

Lord knows he wanted that with you. He fell so fucking hard and now here he was thinking about you as his wife and making the cutest babies. His throat feels heavy at the sad realization that he might never have that with you.

“It probably would’ve been best if she didn’t keep it,” Sukuna says softly, not wanting an ounce of that even though it would have been the most logical decision. 

Fuck why did he feel like he was fighting a tsunami from breaking through his eyes? He turns away from Gojo to face the wall, the gravity of his situation starting to crush him all of a sudden. Not only did he have the luxury of continuing your relationship normally, but he might have missed out on you choosing to spend the rest of your life with him, a family together, growing old and watching your kids grow up. He’s never had thoughts like this before and of course the first time he does, it’s tearing him apart. 

Shouldn’t something like that be happy? Sure he had stupid relationships when he was younger but normally it was his girlfriends spouting such nonsense while he was just in it for a good time, never thinking long term. 

Not you though. A good time would surely have been a given, but he’d been excited to face the challenges of life together, learning and growing as one. Life’s normal challenges, not this fucked up series of events.

He feels a firm hand on his arm, lightly tugging him to roll over. His eyes are burning as he squints hard, trying to hold back everything threatening to spill over from his crimson gaze.

“Sukuna, look at me,” Gojo’s voice is soft but firm.

“Fuck off man.” Sukuna’s shaky voice tries to force out, but his whole body is shaking, heart pounding so hard he feels like it might burst.

“No, turn around. It’s okay. You think I’ve never been where you are? You’re panicking. I get it. Talk to me, you can only bottle up shit for so long in here.”

Sukuna finally surrenders, rolling back around to face his cellmate. 

“I just, I-I really loved her. So damn much. And I tried to push her away, albeit gently, when I got locked up. I wanted her to be able to live a normal life, but I don’t fuckin’ want that man. I never did, I wanted us to be together, I still do. But I feel so helpless, I have no control over our future, I feel like one day she’ll stop writing back, and then I’ll know she found someone else. Fuck I feel like such a loser for even saying this shit,” Sukuna starts to cry, wiping the tears from his eyes in this moment of weakness.

Gojo just listens, not chiming in, soft blue eyes full of empathy for his cellmate…no, his friend. The only real friend in here. He understands, prison can break a man and do things to your mind that you’d never think possible on the outside. Even the toughest criminals with a bloodied past have someone they care about, someone who loves them. Being without them during life’s most challenging time is a terrifying and trying time. 

“It’s okay man, how could you not feel this way? You’re a good guy, you don’t deserve to be in here. We all had dreams of how our life would go and how we wanted to be better, that’s why we are in a rehab facility and not maximum security. Watching what could have been slip through your fingers is horrifying. Have you thought about telling her how you really feel? If you really love her, you owe it to her to be honest. She still writes you all the time…”

You also try to schedule visitation but Sukuna declines them all. For what? He doesn’t even fucking know. He’d kill to feel you wrapped up in a massive hug, your body pressed against his, your scent in his nose as he buries his face in your neck. 

He thought it was incredibly selfish to want you to wait for him, but maybe what he’s doing is even worse. Trying to control and manipulate your feelings like this suddenly seems wrong, no better than your ex. You have free will to do what you want, and if waiting for him was what you choose, who is he to fight you on that? 

He feels like he’s going to pass out, breaking out into a cold sweat, breaths so shallow he can’t even tell if oxygen is getting to his lungs.

“Here, get on the floor, take your pants off so you’re just in your boxers,” Gojo says sternly, yanking Sukuna out of his bed onto his back.

The cold hard floor takes Sukuna by surprise, offering a distraction from his racing thoughts. He spreads his arms out, letting the chill touch every inch of his skin, staring up at the ceiling, eyes searching for something, anything. 

He swears he sees a heart. A lopsided one at that, but it’s there, even if it looks like it’s about to break. Kind of like him, all this time he’s been trying to break your heart, but the best he’s done is bend it and likely just confuse you. 

His however? 

He’s broken it without even knowing. 

He needs to talk to you. He can’t wait another two months to get a response. He’ll call you, hopefully you’ll pick up but he wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t. He’s been forcing you to live life on his terms, withholding multiple lines of communication this whole time. 

The guilt is gnawing at his stomach, the acid boring a hole in his gut as he tries to keep himself from vomiting in disgust. 

“I fucked up Gojo. I really did.”

“I don’t think you’re as bad off as you think. She still writes to you, apparently sent you something sexual, and asks you questions about your life. She wouldn’t be doing that if she didn’t care. She just would stop. But fucking call her you piece of shit. Acting like the phone is your mortal enemy like a little bitch, quit being a pussy and man up,” Gojo says, only half teasing. 

As much as Sukuna wants to argue with Gojo, he knows he’s right. White haired fuck.

Fuck that guy. 

Now he’s nervous like a teenager to call you. How pathetic to be 24 years old and terrified to talk to a girl you said loved…to her face. 

9 months

My favorite tomato girl,

Great questions at the end. I played football, quarterback to be exact. Your cliche high school jock that thought he was way too cool. Also I think I’d have liked you in high school just fine, I wasn’t above being friends with anyone, maybe if I’d hung out with you I’d have had a better future cuz you know what’s not cool? Jail.

My favorite vacation? Probably African safari for my high school graduation. I got to choose anywhere for a trip and I chose that. Seems we have wanting to see animals in common, my favorites were the lions. Guess when I get out we will need to plan some animal themed vacations. Polar bears in Canada, manatees in Florida, whale sharks in Mexico, take your pick, I’ve got enough fucking cash to fund anything you want.

What did I want to be when I grow up? When I was really little I wanted to be a chef, then when I was older I wanted to do something with cars and also have my own business. As you know I love working on my own car so I wanted to mod people's cars for a living. And…well here I am. 

When I stare up at my ceiling, I see a heart.

Also sometimes a truck. I’ll need to lay in other parts of my cell to see if there is anything else, that’s just above my bed.

I’m glad I’m not gonna be a dad yet. I’d prefer to do that together when I’m out…so you aren’t doing it alone. Give it some thought and maybe one day we can try for one…if you’d want it to be with me that is. 

I don’t want to burden you with my feelings, but I’m not doing well. It’s like the realization that this is my life for the next ten years suddenly hit me the other day. You’re the only person I can talk to though outside of here, I hope you are willing to entertain these feelings of mine. 

My cellmate Gojo is decent at listening, he’s been in here a little longer than me so he gets it, it’s nice to feel not so alone in that regard. 

I’m sorry, I’m rambling, almost treating this like a diary I guess. I want to call you, but I’m really nervous for some reason. If you don’t want to talk to me I understand, you can just ignore the call, but I wanted to wait long enough for you to get this letter before I did. I didn’t want you to get it out of the blue. 

I miss you tremendously, I really hope you’ll answer.

You read the letter as you are about to walk out the door to go out. 

Out on a date. 

You wanted to take Sukuna up on his request for you to try to see other people. The man had very little in the way of freedom to do what he wanted, so the least you could do was honor his wishes.

Your heart sinks and you feel a shiver run down your spine. The letter has you concerned for him, his mental state seems to have declined rapidly if he wanted to call you, something he swore he’d never do. 

You leave the letter on your kitchen table, you’ll revisit it later. For now, your Uber is waiting outside your apartment and you don’t want to keep your date waiting.

Slipping into the backseat, you greet the driver and settle in, buckling the seatbelt and pulling your phone out. You begin to scroll social media but eventually stop, opting to stare out the window instead at the buildings whizzing by. 

It’s been nine months since you last saw Sukuna, since you last heard his voice. One letter every other month was all the contact you had, but it’s how he wanted things to be. If you had it your way, you’d have talked more often, but his boundaries were more stringent than yours. He had his reasons you suppose.

This would be your first date since Cam. You and Sukuna never truly went on a date. Maybe you could call eating dinner at his house one, even though it had ended badly. Fucking all night hardly constituted a date either, but you’d gotten to know each other slowly up until that point. It felt more natural than meeting someone on an app and going in blind like you were right now. 

A pang in your chest was starting to develop. This isn’t what you wanted, you didn’t want another man, but you wouldn’t know for sure unless you put yourself out there.

The car abruptly stops, signaling the end of your ride. Thanking the driver, you get out and turn towards the trendy looking bar where you were meeting. 

Just go in there, the worst that can happen is you aren’t having a good time and you can just leave. You don’t even know the man, dating app meetups end this way all the time.

You swallow hard one last time and head inside, eyes darting around the room looking  for the guy you were meeting. Finally your eyes lock onto the familiar face you recognize from his profile. 

He stands up, smiling at you and waving you over. The first thing you notice is that he’s tall and muscular. The pictures kind of hinted at that, but in person it’s even more obvious.

“Nanami right?” you say nervously as you approach, holding out your hand to shake his. His handshake is firm but gentle, dress shirt cuffed up at his forearms which flex as he grips your hand.

“Yep, so glad you could meet today. I just got off work, how about you?” his voice is low but confident as he pulls your chair out for you.

Wow, what a gentleman. 

“I was in the lab most of today. I’m doing the last touches on my research before I really dive into my thesis,” you respond, scooting your chair in as he takes his seat opposite of you. 

“You said you should be graduating in a few months right?” Nanami says as he leans his elbows on the table, paying close attention to you. 

“Yes! Then it’s off to find a job,” you laugh, trying to settle into the small talk. The pit in your stomach is still gnawing at your insides as you attempt to relax. Maybe a drink will help settle you out. 

You order a simple gin and tonic while Nanami opts for a beer. Thankfully your drink is strong which should hopefully give you a quick buzz and calm your nerves. 

“So you’re in finance?” you ask, trying to keep the conversation flowing.

“Yep, investment banking. Not the most exciting job in the world, and I don’t like it enough for all the hours I work,” he glances down at the table while speaking, fingers trembling lightly against his glass.

Maybe he’s a little nervous too. You give him an encouraging smile in response.

“I’m sorry if it seems like I’m nervous,” you begin, “I haven’t dated in almost a year since I broke up with my ex. Then some stuff happened in my personal life, so I’m kind of testing the waters so to speak.”

That’s a generous way to put it, you think to yourself. Do you even mention Sukuna? Your boyfriend of a grand twelve hours that technically never broke up with you but told you to see other people? Who you won’t see again for a decade? 

Your throat feels heavy at the thought. Trying to push the feeling away, you take a big sip of your drink. 

“That’s okay. I haven’t dated since college two years ago. My job has been so demanding, I’ve never felt like I could devote time to a relationship,” Nanami says, sympathy in his eyes. “We can just take this slow, no pressure.”

The relief you should feel from his words doesn’t come, if anything you just feel guilty. You don’t want to lead the man on and you also feel disingenuous about keeping Sukuna a secret. Which in itself also seems disrespectful to Sukuna. 

What in the world have you gotten yourself into?

You try to remember what you told yourself earlier. Just see where it goes. 

“Thank you Nanami, I’d like that. Let’s just have fun and see where this goes,” you answer with a smile and another big sip of your drink.

Your hypothesis was correct in that the more you drank, the easier the conversation flowed and soon you both were bantering and laughing about your shared grievances with college and the working world. Nanami was a smart, well educated man who could hold an intelligent conversation which was right up your alley.

After a few shared appetizers and two more drinks, the bar was starting to fill up with the late night crowd. Nanami was very adamant about getting a good night's sleep before work, as were you, so he paid the bill and led you outside.

“Wanna come hang out at my place? Still have a few more hours before I should go to bed,” he asks, resting his hand on the small of your back. 

His heavy touch sent sparks through your body, warming your skin in the evening chill. You really enjoyed his company. Plus he was hot and respectful, a man of such tasteful flirting that wasn’t too over the top but made you feel comfortable and desired.

“Is this you asking me what I think you’re asking?” you give him a small grin, moving closer to him as his hand pressed you forward.

��Maybe. Like I said though, no pressure. I’ve just found your company to be enjoyable enough that I’m not really wanting the night to end just yet. I’ll be happy with whatever we decide to do after this,” he says with a kind smile. 

Fuck, why was he so nice? It’s not like you were complaining, but it really gave you no good reason to say no. You hadn’t planned on hooking up with someone tonight, but fuck it, you were really starting to lean that way. 

You missed feeling intimate and cared for by someone. The feeling of someone pleasuring you and feeling their skin on yours was a distant memory. Technically it had been years because lord knows Cam didn’t give you that feeling and Sukuna was essentially a one night stand given what transpired. 

You stand up on your toes, pull Nanami down by his loosened tie, and plant a soft kiss on his lips. His strong arms move to wrap around your back, hands not venturing any lower than your hips as he pulls you closer, swiping his tongue across your bottom lip. You part your lips, letting his tongue entwine with yours in a calm and slow dance. 

Fuck, you wanted to have sex with the man. He felt safe and respectful, which is what you needed right now. It wasn’t even about the emotional connection, you needed something physical. 

Making out on the sidewalk leads to straddling him on his couch in a high rise apartment, his hot breath on your neck as you ground yourself against his lap. 

Your eyes flicker open as the image of Sukuna pops into your head. The first time you’d ever kissed him was in a similar position on his couch, except you’d panicked and stopped, feeling like you were being unfaithful. 

Why did it feel like you were about to be again? He’d given you permission to do this, and you weren’t even sure if he actually wanted you after trying to push you away and denying everything you countered with. You’d never felt like you had physical needs before, but after that night with Sukuna, you were desperate to feel something similar again. Someone worshipping your body and focusing on pleasing you. 

“Wait,” you force out, briefly pulling away from Nanami.

“Is everything alright?” he stops immediately, hands hovering behind your back. 

“Yes, but I just want to be honest with my intentions,” you say with a shaky voice.

“Here, sit next to me,” Nanami guides you towards the spot next to him on the couch, eyes softly looking into yours as he waits for you to continue. 

“I, um, it’s complicated. Fuck, I’m sorry,” you shake your head trying to compose yourself. 

“Hey, we can stop if you want…” Nanami says, studying you carefully.

“I-I don’t know. It’s just, almost a year ago I met a guy. I loved him, I saw a future with him. But something bad happened and he’s, well, he’s in jail now. For ten years. We made it official and then twelve hours later, bam! Arrested. He didn’t want me to wait for him, so I’m trying to honor his wishes…” you start to spill everything while Nanami just listens, not interrupting. Your face heats up in embarrassment as you spew all of this at a stranger.

“I just feel guilty for enjoying this with you. And I wouldn’t want this to have any emotional meaning, just sex. Because I love him, and I don’t think I’ll ever love you, or anyone else right now. But I feel like I should at least try. And you seem so kind and respectful, but I don’t want you to feel used or taken advantage of,” you say, looking back at him. You have no idea what kind of response you are going to get, putting yourself in his shoes you can’t imagine what you’d say. Holy baggage.

“Wow, that’s a lot. Are you okay? Not just physically, but in general?” Nanami asks, the sympathy in his eyes is apparent. 

“I’m as okay as I can be,” you respond. “It’s been almost a year so I’ve kinda accepted it.” 

“I see. Well I’m sorry that happened to you, that must be so incredibly hard. I can’t imagine being in that situation and I bet there’s only a very small population of people who could truly understand what you are going through. If it’s just sex you want, I can respect that, and I won’t judge you. Truthfully, I’m not looking for anything serious either right now. I can assure you I won’t try to take you from him or sway your feelings if all you are looking for is some physical relief. But maybe you should take a bit to see if this is what you really want. I’m not sure what it’s like communicating with someone inside prison, but maybe talk to him, and if he’s okay with it, we can try again,” Nanami says, clasping your hands between his and pulling them to his lips. 

Tears begin to prick at your eyes as you absorb his words. This guy was so caring and you’d only known him for a few hours.

“I’m so sorry, this can’t be what you had in mind for tonight,” you chuckle as you wipe your eyes repeatedly. 

“I still had a good time regardless and worst case, I met a nice person who I could see being friends with. Life happens,” Nanami smiles, rubbing your back before going to fetch your coat from the closet.

Sukuna said he would call you in the letter you left at home. You’ll ask him one more time what he wants, and if he gives you some bullshit answer, then you’ll go back to Nanami. 

An hour later you are home, more confused than ever. Thank god Nanami was a good man, you both knew you would regret going further and decided to pause everything. You take Sukuna’s letter to your room and read it again. This time you realized your fists were clenched around the paper, wrinkling it from the way your fingertips twisted the delicate material. 

You were pissed. You’d been nothing but honest with Sukuna that last day, seeing him in person about wanting to stay loyal to him, but he couldn’t grant you the same. Instead he seemed to be dancing around the topic which resulted in this train wreck of a night. If he were here right now you’d slap the tattoos right off his jawline and demand him tell you how he really felt. 

It’s the least he could do, he wasn’t the only one with a mental state on the decline. 

10 months

“This is a collect call from an inmate at the Southeastern Regional Jail, press 7 to accept.” 

At 9AM you received a call from an unknown number and you were shocked to hear this. 

You sat there staring at first, unsure if you wanted to answer. All your pent up anger from the other night suddenly evaporated and fear was the only thing left. 

The prompt played 2 more times before you finally smashed the 7 button.

“Hello?” 

“Oh thank god you picked up,” Sukuna’s voice answers on the other line. Your breath hitches as his deep tone reverberates through your ear. You exhale loudly, not realizing you were holding your breath. Briefly you mute the phone as you try to control your breathing, trying to take deep breaths and calm yourself.

“Are you there? Hello?” Sukuna says your name almost frantically while you are trying to regain your composure.

“I’m here, sorry, I just can’t believe it’s really you. I haven’t heard your voice in so long,” your voice cracks as you hold back a sob. This is all you’ve wanted this entire time, not realizing finally hearing him would affect you this way.

“It’s okay. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry too. That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about,” he continues, sighing audibly. 

“Well I have an earful to give you as well Sukuna, but why don’t you go first.”

“What? Why am I getting an earful?!” his whiny voice responds with a tinge of fear. 

You just sit silently for now, taking everything in you to not just explode at him.

“I know I deserve it, I just didn’t know you felt so strongly and it makes me feel worse,” he continues.

“Enough of the cryptic shit Sukuna, I have no idea what you are talking about,” you start crying.

“Okay okay, I’m here. Please just say what you need to say,” Sukuna’s voice deepens as if he’s trying to contain his emotions now.

“Do you want to be with me Sukuna? Like, actually want to be committed to each other? Only each other? And don’t give me any of this bullshit like ‘yes I do, but blah blah’. It’s yes or no. Enough beating around the bush,” you say sternly.

“Fuck you’re scaring me, where is this coming from?” he pauses before speaking. 

“I went out with another guy the other night and started to have sex with him, Sukuna. That’s what this is about, this is what it’s come to.”

“Shit…ahhh shit! Fuck!” Sukuna curses before going totally silent. Everything in you wants to apologize but you hold your ground. You refuse to apologize for this. 

“Wh-wh-what do you mean started to? What does that mean? Oh god I don’t know what to say…” his voice stutters and cracks, registering the pain in his words. 

“I told you point blank at the prison that I wanted to be loyal to you, but you shut me down and left it ambiguous. You told me you didn’t want me to wait for you, you told me you wanted me to try and move on, to see other people. So I tried Sukuna. I tried the other day. But we stopped because I still love you. How can I fuck someone else when you’re all I want?” you start crying, forcing out the words as best you can. “Y-you seem like you don’t want that with me though. You don’t want to talk to me, don’t want to see me, made it seem like you didn’t care if I strayed from you. So I’ll ask you again, do you actually want to be with me?” you say through a combination of sobs and hiccups.

“Oh my god, yes! That’s why I called you!” his pitch is higher as his voice cracks again. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Fuck! The truth is I don’t want you to be with anyone else! I’m sorry I wasn’t honest. I want to be together, I want to be loyal to each other. God willing you do too, but I don’t blame you if you don’t want that. 

“Listen, I - ah - fucked up. Real bad. I don’t know why I wasn’t honest back then, it was shitty of me. I don’t hold it against you for going out with someone and going however far you did, I don’t wanna know specifics so please don’t tell me. It is what it is. I never meant to put you in this position, I thought I was doing the right thing, but I realized I wasn’t and I love you more than anything. It was manipulative, I didn’t give you a direct answer and because of that, you had no agency in this, and that’s not okay.” he says through sniffles as his voice gets harsh with emotion. 

“Then why did you say those things?” you say through choked back tears.

He sighs again and you can hear him crying in the background before trying to speak again.

“I just felt so guilty. Felt like a shitty man to put you in this situation after promising you the fucking world. I didn’t want you to feel trapped, but I didn’t even listen to how you felt. It was selfish. I understand if you hate me-“

“You’re right I do fucking hate you,” you interupt him. “If I could pull you down by your stupid pink hair and slap your stupid jaw tattoos around and knock some sense into you I would. 

“I hate that you made me fall in love with you, that you’re the first thing I think of when I wake up and the last thing I see when I go to sleep. I hate when I wake up and you weren’t in my dreams, the one place where you and I can actually feel real right now because you refuse to fucking interact with me. I hate that I need to wait for you. I waited my whole life to find you and now I need to wait even longer,” you ramble on, crying into your pillow and twisting your nails into your sheets. 

“I hate that I can’t hear your laugh, can’t see your stupid goofy smile, can’t feel your soft touch. Fuck Sukuna I hate all of this. But I hate the thought of anyone else even more, so your godforsaken ass is worth the wait. I’ve already done it once,” you say with a humorless laugh, mouth dry and scratchy, eyes burning as you pour everything out into the open, holding your breath as you wait for his response. 

He’s silent and unresponsive. Fearing the call dropped, you were about to lose it if he didn’t hear anything you said. 

“Hello?” 

“I’m here sweetheart. You really mean all that?”

“What the fuck, of course I did. Boy I swear I would beat your ass if you were here, dense ass motherfucking-”

“I’m sure you didn’t mean that to be romantic at all, but I’m at a loss for words,” he interrupts with a chuckle. What you don’t know is now he’s leaning against the concrete prison wall, biting his tongue and looking all giddy as he tries to replay everything you just said over and over in his mind. 

“You think this is funny?” you lash out again. Holy shit this man is testing your patience.

“Kinda yeah. I’m just such a fucking idiot, I’m laughing at my asinine behaviour. I’m so relieved though to hear you say those things. You really love me huh?” he says and you are sure he’s fighting back the biggest grin.

“You’re smiling right now aren’t you?” you say more calmly than before. 

“Yup, got a big ole smirk on my face. And crying. You make me happy. It’s happy tears.”

“You make me happy too. And insane. But also insanely happy, even from a concrete cell,” you feel a laugh escape your lips. 

“Fuck, wish I could scoop you up and fucking break your little bones from hugging you so hard,” his voice is more husky and even now.

“Um ouch? A little violent don’t you think?” 

“I don’t mean it literally. Just that I wish I could be close to you. It’ll be worth it though. One day.” 

“Yes it will. Can you actually call me from now on? Also what’s this about wanting to try for a baby when you get out? When did I ever say I wanted one?” you blurt out, remembering that insane part of his last letter.

“Yes I will call. I can’t call often, maybe once a week at most. It’s pricey and I wanna have money left for me when I get out…well for us. 

“And yeah, about that. See my cellmate got his girl pregnant right before he got put in here and he got me all paranoid since I busted in you about six times that night. But then I was like well if we are mid to late thirties when I get out, better get to it since time isn’t on our side”

You burst out laughing but feel your heart swell at his words picturing little pink haired terrors running around his house. 

“Well you need to get your degrees and trades or whatever in order. I’m not footing the bill for all of us because for some reason I don’t see you being able to keep your hands off of me to stop at just one,” you tease.

“Oh please, don’t act all high and mighty. I saw you that night, begging to take every last drop-“

“Oh my god can people hear you?!” you squeal, interrupting him.

“Um, darling it’s a bunch of dudes locked up in here with no females to be found. You just get used to being shameless after a while. Like when we are done here I’m gonna go tell Gojo to look the other way while I jerk off.”

You practically choke on your own saliva. What the actual fuck?

“Uh, wow, okay. That’s pretty wild Sukuna not gonna lie.”

“I do the same for him after he’s talked to his girl. He owes me, horny little fuck,” Sukuna scoffs. 

“Oh, the call is gonna end in a few minutes. I’ll try to call you every other week on Saturdays around this same time. Sound good?” Sukuna changes the topic as the warning sound chimes over the phone.

“That sounds good. Keep writing too. I like it, it’s special and I look forward to it,” you respond, feeling the weight that was heavy on your heart start to feel a little lighter.

“Of course I will. Anything for you. I love you. So so soooooo muuuuuch,” he says in that whiny voice of his that just makes you smile and shake your head. He’s your whiny Kuna though and you love it. 

“I love you too Kuna, talk to you later.”

The call ends and the tears come again. Except this time they’re tears of joy. Relief. Filled with hope for what’s to come. Almost a year down with so much more to go, but at least now you know where you stand. Plus now you have calls to look forward to as you inch your way closer to being reunited. 

<< Chapter 3 | Chapter 5 >>

Masterlist

taglist: @clp-84 @zeunys @aquaberrydolphin @nynxtea @yuujispinkhair @ssc7514 @sukubusss @scorpiosugar @kiixonmm @xlilycoco

[nhmkhnh]

professor!caitlyn x fem!student!user

preface: she was the professor with a mind like a fortress and a heart locked in iron — until you walked in, and she started leaving the door open.

author's note: got a bot abt this topic too, here! not having much to yap today. enjoy, my girls!

wrn: lowercase, rumoring abt reader slept with cait in a scenario.

masterlist / janitor ai / c.ai / carrd

office hours after dark you show up late to professor kiramman’s office hours—well after everyone else has gone home. you’re flustered, apologizing for the time, your notebook a mess, makeup a little smudged from a long day. caitlyn pretends to be composed. she offers you tea. she sits across from you with her legs crossed, listening intently as you ask about political theory. but inside?

“this close. she’s this close to me. does she know what she’s doing? no, of course she doesn’t. and those lips—gods, i could just—no. keep it together, caitlyn.” you don’t notice how her hand twitches every time yours brushes hers on the desk. or how her tea’s gone cold, untouched.

that dress should be illegal you show up to her lecture wearing a new sundress—tiny florals, soft pastels, and far too short. you’re twirling a pen between your fingers, oblivious to the chaos you’ve caused. caitlyn stumbles over a sentence mid-lecture. she never stumbles.

“focus. focus on the goddamn lecture, caitlyn. rousseau didn’t write about civil liberties so you could drool over a student—bloody hell, that hemline…” you ask an innocent question. she calls it “insightful.” she praises you in front of the whole class. later, she scolds herself for it. “you’re slipping. she’s not even trying and you’re slipping.”

caught in the rain after a sudden rainstorm, you show up to her office drenched—shirt clinging to your skin, hair stuck to your cheeks. you’re laughing about it. she offers you her coat. you wrap it around you, smelling her perfume. she watches you like you’re the only person on earth.

“she’s in my coat. wearing my scent. how is this not a crime?” she tells you to stay until the rain stops. you talk about nothing for hours. her hand lingers just a little too long when she hands you tea.

“you did so well” you ace her exam. she leaves a handwritten note on your paper: “proud of you. truly exceptional work.” you beam when you read it. she watches you read it from across the room.

“if only she knew what i’d do just to see that smile again.”

later, she calls you into her office just to “check in.” you thank her. she tells you how brilliant you are. you giggle, nervous. she wants to bite her tongue—because what she wants to say is:

“i want to ruin every boy you’ve ever spoken to and keep you in my pocket like a secret.”

you fall asleep in her class you’d pulled an all-nighter. you doze off near the back of the lecture hall, cheek resting on your palm, lashes fluttering. caitlyn sees you. keeps teaching like nothing’s wrong, but her voice softens. she watches over you like a hawk. when class ends, she drapes her coat over your shoulders and wakes you gently.

“she’s exhausted. look at her. has anyone taken care of her today?”

you thank her, embarrassed. she only smiles, brushing imaginary lint off your shoulder.

“rest, darling. let me worry for once.”

a rumor goes around someone in your class starts a rumor that you’re sleeping with her. it’s not true. yet. you tell her about it, laughing nervously. she stiffens.

“who?” she asks. “who said that?” her voice is cold. sharp. not the caitlyn you know.

she hides it, but she wants blood. not because of the scandal. but because they dared to drag your name through the mud.

“i don’t care what they say about me. but her? she’s pure. untouchable. how dare they.”

library study date you ask her for extra help. she agrees to meet you at the library after hours. she shows up in casual clothes—still neat, still sharp. you’re curled up beside her, knees brushing, pointing at your laptop screen. she smells like old books and bergamot. you’re close enough to touch.

“her lip gloss is cherry today. i wonder if she tastes like it.”

you fall against her shoulder while yawning. she freezes. but she doesn’t move.

“let her stay. just for a moment.”

the gala

there’s a school event. a formal one. you show up in a backless dress that makes heads turn. hers most of all. caitlyn looks dashing in a tuxedo. you run to her, asking to take a picture together. you loop your arm through hers. she almost forgets to breathe.

“if i touch her lower back right now, would she notice?”

you upload the photo later, captioned: “my favorite professor 💙” she stares at it for an hour.

you call her “caitlyn” by accident

it slips out. you’re laughing, mid-conversation, and you say it. “caitlyn.” not professor kiramman. not ma’am. her pupils dilate. her hands clench.

“gods, don’t say my name like that. not unless you want something to happen.”

she covers it with a light laugh. but later, in her apartment, alone—

“say it again. just one more time. please.”

you tell her you feel safe with her

you’ve had a rough day. you show up to her office teary-eyed. she clears her schedule. sits with you. listens. you rest your head on her lap. you whisper, “i always feel safe with you.” and caitlyn—controlled, composed caitlyn—goes silent. her hand trembles as it strokes your hair.

“she trusts me. she doesn’t know what that does to me.”

she kisses your forehead before you leave. just once. just enough. you smile. you don’t see the way she watches you walk away.

[avonnimimi]

❀·°∗✧🌸✧∗°·❀

Plugged

The Series. Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

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a/n: Finally getting somewhereeee, here’s part 3 yall @hcneymooners @wannabe-fic-reader I hope you enjoy! Remember, some things may be written in my native english dialect, if you don’t understand, comment and i’ll translate. MEN AND MINORS DNI

content: drug dealer! Vi x Black fem readers, weed, smoking, intoxication, cursing, clit rubbing (r!receiving) choking, hair pulling, dom!vi, orgasm denial? lmk if i missed anything!

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Vi didn’t take you home that night. You didn’t ask why. She pulled up to a sleek, modern apartment complex, way out of your usual league, and didn’t say a word. Just got out, opened your door, and scooped you into her arms like it was nothing.

“I can walk, Violet,” you muttered, half-hearted, pressing your hands against her chest.

“If I wanted you to walk, you’d be walking,” she shot back, voice low and firm. Her grip didn’t falter. She carried you to the elevator, setting you down only to press the button for the top floor.

When the doors opened, she led you down a quiet hallway to the sixth apartment. The second she unlocked the door, her scent hit you, warm, musky, like the kind of comfort you didn’t realize you craved. The place wasn’t spotless, but it wasn’t messy either. It was lived-in. A little chaotic, a little home.

She tugged you to the couch in the dimly lit living room, leaving only the kitchen light on. The glow softened the edges of everything, but it couldn’t soften the tension hanging heavy in the air. You sat; she sank down beside you, knees spread wide, her posture loose but guarded.

“What did you say to Tevonn?” you asked, voice quiet, searching her face. Her hand dragged down her jaw, a nervous tick.

“I reminded him he owes me six bands. Told him if he tried to bullshit me, I’d fuck him up.”

You snorted, dry and humorless. “I doubt you said it like that. You probably made it sound worse. He was apologizing.”

She shifted, legs stretching wider, her body language all deflection. But her jaw tightened, and there was something behind her eyes she didn’t let you see.

“What did you mean,” you started, hesitant, “when you said you were gonna teach Donte another lesson?” His name tasted bitter, like poison in your mouth. Like shame. You still couldn’t believe he’d tried to sell you off, like you were nothing, because he’d been fucking someone else.

Vi chuckled, a low, dangerous sound, but there was no humor in it. “Couple years ago, Donte was with my little sister.”

Your stomach dropped. “What?”

Her gaze turned sharp, focused. “He did some fuck shit. Put his hands on her.”

You stared at her, your breath caught somewhere between disbelief and horror.

“So I beat the fuck out of him. But she didn’t like that. Stayed with him. Took care of him.” Her voice was steady, but there was a storm brewing underneath. “Then Donte snitched. Told the cops about my business. That’s how I got locked up.”

Your mind reeled, the pieces falling together too fast, too heavy. You reached out, resting your hand on her shoulder. You didn’t know what to say. Before you could figure it out, she pulled you into her lap, her hands steadying you as you straddled her.

Her fingers brushed the bruise on your cheek, the one Donte left behind. Her touch was gentle, reverent. “It’s bruising,” she said quietly, her voice soft in contrast to the hardness in her eyes.

You turned your face away, shame burning in your chest. Tears welled up before you could stop them, and when they spilled, they came fast and hot, your body shaking under the weight of it all.

“Hey, hey,” Vi whispered, her hands cupping your face. Her thumbs wiped the tears as they fell, and she kissed each one away, her lips soft against your wet skin. Then she kissed the bruise, so tender it broke something in you.

You tried to speak, but your lips trembled. Vi caught it with her thumb, her touch light despite the tension in her shoulders. “Let’s smoke,” she said, her lips curving into a small, teasing smile. Normally, you’d have said no. But tonight wasn’t normal. And Vi wasn’t just anyone.

You followed her to the balcony. She rolled the joint right there, the night air cool against your skin. You watched her, mesmerized; the way her hands moved, precise and confident, the flick of her lighter, the curl of her lips as she sealed the paper. It was hypnotic. It was hot. You felt the heat pooling low in your stomach, spreading between your legs.

She handed you the spliff, and you took it without a word, inhaling deep. The smoke filled your lungs, thick and warm, pulling you out of your head. Vi rolled another for herself, letting you keep the first. By the time you were done, your body was humming, higher than you’d been in a long time. Donte’s cheap shit didn’t hold a candle to this.

Back inside, you stumbled toward the bathroom. Vi���s voice followed you. “Room’s to the left.” You didn’t answer, too focused on scrubbing the makeup off your face, washing away the night. In the bathroom, you found fresh towels and let yourself borrow them, along with a pair of her boxers and a t-shirt from her drawer.

You crawled into her bed, the sheets soft and cool against your skin. Sleep was already pulling at you when Vi walked in. “Damn, precious, made yourself at home,” she teased, her voice low and lazy. You ignored her, sinking deeper into the mattress, the high still buzzing in your veins.

She slid in beside you, her shirt gone. Your eyes caught on the tattoos covering her back, black ink curling over her muscles like a story written in another language. You stared, the sight of her stealing your breath.

“Keep looking at me like that, and we’re gonna have a problem,” she murmured, her voice rough at the edges.

You didn’t think. You just moved. Crawled on top of her, straddling her hips. Her smirk was quick, her hands finding your waist like they belonged there.

“Don’t do something you’re gonna regret, precious,” she warned, her voice low and gravelly, but her hands betrayed her, grinding your hips against hers. The friction sent a shiver through you, a shaky sigh slipping past your lips.

“You don’t even know me,” you whispered, your voice small, “but you keep taking care of me. Why?”

Her hands stilled. Her gaze caught yours, steady and unflinching. “When I like something, I take care of it.”

Something inside you broke open. You leaned in, crashing your lips against hers. Vi met you halfway, her mouth hot and demanding, her tongue tangling with yours like she’d been waiting for this. For you.

When you pulled back, breathless, she caught your face in her hands. “You sure about this?” she asked, her voice softer now, her thumb brushing along your cheek. “I know you ain’t a cheater.”

“Donte ain’t my man,” you whispered, raw and honest, the words thick in your throat. “Not anymore.”

Her lips curved into a wicked smile. “Then yeah, baby. I’m gonna take care of you.”

You crushed your lips back to hers, desperate now. Her hands gripped your hips tighter, grounding you, guiding you as you grind down against her. The friction sent sparks shooting through your body, the waistband of her pants dragging perfectly against your clit.

“mmh fuck…” you moaned, the words spilling out before you could stop them. Your head fell to her shoulder, your hips moving instinctively, chasing the pressure, chasing the high.

Vi’s hands stilled your movements, her grip firm but careful. “Don’t do something you’re gonna regret, precious,” she murmured, her voice low and husky, but there was an edge of restraint there. “You’re high. You’re hurt. Ain’t how I want this to go.”

You froze for a moment, your lip trembling, the shame coiling tight in your chest. She was right, but you needed her, so badly. “Please,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “You don’t get it. I need this. I need you.”

She stared at you, her jaw tight, her chest rising and falling with each deep breath. Her thumbs rubbed slow, deliberate circles into your hips, grounding you again. “You ain’t gotta beg me, mama,” she finally said, her voice dropping even lower, almost a growl. “But you’re gonna listen to me.”

Her hands flexed, gripping you tighter. “You cum when I say. Not before. You understand?”

You nodded, a shaky, needy sound escaping your lips. “Yes.”

“Good girl.” The words hit you like a bolt of lightning, heat flooding through you. She leaned back, her eyes dark and hungry, her smirk sharp enough to cut. “Go ahead, pretty girl. Keep grinding. Show me how bad you want it.”

You hesitated for only a second before you moved again, rolling your hips against hers. The friction was maddening, just enough to push you close, but not enough to tip you over. You whined, your hands gripping her shoulders, your movements growing more desperate.

Vi chuckled, low and throaty, her hands guiding your rhythm. “Yeah, there you go. Good girl. Keep going. Don’t stop.”

“Vi…” you whimpered, your voice breaking. “I—I need more…”

She tilted her head, her smirk widening. “You think you’ve earned more?” she teased, her tone mocking, but her hands were steady, holding you in place. “Nah. Keep going. You’re not done yet.”

You let out a frustrated whimper, but you didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. The tension in your belly coiled tighter and tighter, your body trembling with the effort. You were so close, so fucking close, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t—

Suddenly, her hand snaked up to your throat, her fingers curling around it, firm but not tight. She pulled you closer, your foreheads almost touching. “Look at me,” she ordered, her voice sharp, commanding. Your eyes snapped to hers, wide and desperate. “You cum when I tell you too. Understand?”

You nodded quickly, a breathless “Yes,” tumbling from your lips.

Her hand slipped into the waistband of her boxers, your borrowed ones, her fingers sliding through your slick folds like she already knew every inch of you. The first touch to your clit made you jerk, a sharp gasp escaping your lips.

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me,” she muttered, her voice thick with desire. Her fingers moved in slow, deliberate circles, teasing you, building you up until you were shaking. Vi swore she was loosing her mind, finally being able to touch and feel and on your creamy pussy. “That feel good, pretty girl? That what you needed?”

“Yes,” you choked out, your hips rocking against her hand, chasing the high. “Please, Vi, please…”

She grinned, all teeth. “Not yet,” she said, her tone wicked. Her fingers slowed, keeping you teetering on the edge, the tension in your body unbearable. “You wait until I say.”

You let out a broken sob, your head falling to her shoulder, your body trembling. “Vi, I can’t—I can’t hold it…”

“Yeah, you can,” she murmured, her free hand sliding up to tangle in your hair, pulling your head back so she could see your face. “You’re gonna hold it for me, mama. You’re gonna be good for me.”

You bit your lip hard enough to draw blood, your whole body trembling with the effort to hold yourself back. And then, finally, mercifully, she leaned in, her lips brushing against your ear. “Now,” she whispered, her voice soft but commanding. “Cum for me.”

The words shattered you. Your body seized, the orgasm ripping through you like a tidal wave. You cried out, your hips bucking against her hand as she kept working you through it, her fingers relentless, her voice low and soothing in your ear.

“Yeah, that’s it. That’s my girl. Let it all out,” she murmured, her lips brushing against your temple. “Good fucking girl.”

When it was over, you collapsed against her, your body trembling, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps. She wrapped her arms around you, pulling you close, her lips pressing soft kisses to your hair.

“Go to sleep, precious,” she whispered, her voice warm, steady, grounding. “I’ll take you home in the morning.”

You didn’t answer. You just let yourself sink into her, her warmth, her scent, her presence. And for the first time in a long time, you felt safe.

—————————————————————————

this is my original post, please don’t repost, translate, or plagiarize my work ;)

©️avonnimimi 2024

[willowsnook]

community relations (18+)

Pulled pork! Vinegar! Wrap! ~ Mike’s Way ~ Thank you for this, such a great idea!!

quinn hughes x coworker!reader

I’d be insane not to love you

—----------------------------------------------------

“I have an observation from today,” Quinn said as you packed up after the event.

The local children’s hospital had sent some kids to skate with Canucks players, including their captain, who was lingering behind.

“And what’s that?” you asked, glancing up over the box you were carrying.

“You don’t know how to skate,” he said, smirking.

“I do not,” you admitted with a smile.

“How?” he asked, bewildered. “You literally work for a hockey team.”

Shrugging, you passed him the box. “My job doesn’t require me to be on the ice.”

“But still,” he persisted, following you to the storage closet. “Let me teach you.”

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” you asked, placing a hand on your hip.

“Not for another hour,” he replied, grinning wide. “Now let’s find you some skates, princess.” Before you could protest, he was already running off. Sighing, you followed, wondering what you’d gotten yourself into.

Quinn was the most requested player for community events, so you spent a lot of time with him. At first, he was quiet and reserved, but over time, your friendship grew, making your job easier and more fun.

After discovering you weren’t a hockey fan growing up, he took it upon himself to teach you the basics. Today’s lesson, however, would take place on the ice.

Sitting on a bench, you watched as Quinn tied your skates. His fingers moved deftly, and he glanced up at you with a reassuring smile.

“Don’t be nervous,” he said softly. “I’ll be with you the whole time.”

You clung to the wall as he led you onto the rink, showing you the basics before holding out his hands. Taking them hesitantly, you shuffled off the wall, Quinn skating backward to guide you.

“That’s it!” he encouraged. “Isn’t it fun?”

“Not really,” you replied, earning a loud laugh from him.

As you completed a lap, you began to wobble. Quinn tightened his grip, pulling you into his chest as you stumbled. His arm wrapped securely around your waist, steadying you.

“Easy,” he murmured, his face inches from yours. Your cheeks flushed at the proximity, and neither of you moved.

“I think you can let go of me now,” you teased, breaking the tension. Quinn stepped back, his cheeks reddening as he guided you off the ice.

Later that afternoon,  your mind wandered to the interaction. Quinn was undeniably attractive—and kind—but he was also your coworker, the captain of the team. You weren’t sure if you were allowed to feel this way about him, but he wasn’t making it easy to resist.

Making yourself dinner, you picked up your phone to Facetime your sister. 

“Hey y/n,” she greeted as her face popped up on the screen. 

“Hey J,” you replied, propping the phone up. “Ready for this weekend?

She was visiting Vancouver to visit you and catch a game as your guest. You were excited, as you hadn’t seen her since over the summer and were very much in need of a girl's weekend. 

“So ready, I also expect you to take me bar hopping after the game on Saturday,” she said and you giggled. 

“Dangerous,” you replied, remembering the very rough nights the two of you had shared while going out. 

“I have to go, but I’ll see you when I land tomorrow,” she said before hanging up. This was going to be a long weekend.

—--------------------------------------------------------

“That was amazing,” Jaelen said after the final buzzer went off. The Canucks had won easily and you were happy just to be a fan for this game rather than an employee. “I want to be a WAG so bad.”

You laughed at your sister, knowing this was nothing new. The first thing she said when you told her you got the job a couple of years ago was ask when she could meet some of the players. 

“Do you know where they go out after the game?” she asked, and you sighed, trying to look away. “Omg, you do!”

Because of Quinn’s insistence that you eventually join him to celebrate one of these days, you knew the usual hangout was a small bar a couple of blocks away. You lived close to the arena, so you decided to stop by your apartment first and change into a pair of black jeans and a tight white top. You made a couple of martinis to pregame and eventually made your way to the bar. 

A lot of the hockey team was already there when you both arrived, and you spotted Quinn standing by the bar chatting with someone you thought might be one of his brothers. Jaelen was already dragging you to the bar, and you avoided his gaze as you stood up to order. 

“Put her drink on my tab,” you heard him say as he approached you. You looked over at him with a small smile on your face and met his eyes, sparkling with amusement. 

“Finally made it, and I didn’t even text you this time,” he teased. 

“My sister wanted to come out,” you defended. 

“Lot of bars in Vancouver, princess,” he smirked and you rolled your eyes. 

“Yeah yeah, she wants to bag one of your teammates,” you admitted. Quinn stepped closer to you, bringing his mouth to your ear. 

“I like how you didn’t include me as one of the options there,” he whispered, and you were instantly flustered, not even realizing what you had said. 

“Shut up,” you mumbled before sipping your drink. His smirk widened at your discomfort. 

“Hi, I’m Jack,” the guy he had been with earlier interrupted, holding his hand out. Quinn shot him a look of annoyance, but Jack’s smile didn’t falter. 

“Y/n,” you replied, shaking his hand.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” he said, making Quinn blush and you smiled. “And I can see why.”

Jack shamelessly checked you out and you tilted your head, amused at the brother. 

“Aren’t you a charmer?” You replied, locking eyes once again. 

“Only for you, sweetheart,” he flirted, and you felt a slight blush cross your features. Quinn was frowning now as he glared at Jack, who shot him a wink. You chatted a little longer with the boys, well mostly Jack, as Quinn had grown quieter as the night went on. Jack finally left to go to the bathroom and you turned to him. 

“You okay?” You asked and he looked down at you, clearly contemplating saying something. 

“I don’t like him flirting with you,” he admitted and you looked at him confused. 

“He’s just being nice,” you countered and he gave you a look. 

“I know my brother.” 

“I’m not going to hook up with him Quinn,” you said amused, grabbing your purse. “There’s only one Hughes brother I’m interested in and it’s not him. I’ll see you later.” 

His eyes widened as he processed your words and he watched you walk away. 

—------------------------------------------------------------

A couple of weeks had passed since then, and Quinn had definitely been more flirty with you but hadn’t made a move. You were starting to get worried that you had said too much that night at the bar; it was exactly why you avoided drinking around him in the first place. 

It was the week before Thanksgiving and you were going to your good friend Rachel’s house for a Friendsgiving party. She had done it each year for the past three and it always meant a good meal and then sitting around a bonfire, drinking and talking. You had been looking forward to it all month; it was a good chance to get away from work and just relax. It didn’t seem like work would be getting away from you, though, as you looked over to see Quinn stepping out of an Uber at the same time you pulled up. 

“What’s up princess?” He asked with a grin, taking the potato dish you brought out of your hands. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked befuddled. 

“I’m friends with Rachel’s new boyfriend,” he said and you nodded. Rachel had started dating this guy she had met at work a couple of months ago. You had yet to meet him but had heard good things. “You’re friends with Rachel, right?”

“Yeah,” you told him as you walked in the house. 

“Y/n!” Rachel called as you made it into the kitchen. She was wearing a cute little apron over her sweater and jeans and you hugged her in greeting. “Meet Paul!”

Her boyfriend gave you a kind smile, shaking your hand before turning to pull Quinn into a hug. 

“What’s up huggy?” Paul said and you watched amused as the two boys caught up. 

“I totally forgot to tell you that Quinn was coming. You guys see each other a lot at work, right? " she asked, and you nodded. “He’s cute.” 

“Rachel,” you warned and she smirked. 

“Just saying.”

You helped her with the final touches as everyone else arrived, Quinn staying in the kitchen with you guys, nursing a beer. 

“Okay, everyone, grab a plate and food, and let's eat!” Rachel called, and you joined her in line. You filled your plate and moved to the dining room, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach as Quinn took the spot next to you. 

“So how long have you two been together?” One of Rachel’s friends asked you and Quinn. Other conversations flowed in the background as you looked at Quinn quickly before answering. 

“We aren’t together, just coworkers,” you said and she nodded. 

“Just coworkers, not even friends?” Quinn said, pouting and you rolled your eyes. 

“Friends,” you confirmed and Rachel gave you a wink from where she was sitting. 

“I didn’t know you worked for the Canucks,” the girl continued and you nodded, taking a sip of your wine. 

“Yeah, have been for a couple of years now,” you told her. 

“That’s so lucky. I’d love to work around a bunch of hot athletes,” she said, and you choked a little on your drink, causing Quinn to grin. 

“Yeah, she is lucky,” he teased, and you shot him the finger. The rest of dinner went smoothly. You had a couple more glasses of wine before slowly following the group outside as Paul got the fire going. It was chilly, and you regretted already not having brought your heavier coat.

Quinn was already sitting back in one of the outdoor chairs, watching you as you got closer. 

“Cold princess?” He asked as you got closer and you crossed your arms shaking your head. 

“I’m fine,” you said but shivered involuntarily, causing him to give you a teasing smile. 

“Come sit in my lap,” he said and you gave him a death glare. 

“I’m not sitting in your lap,” you said and he smirked looking around. 

“Where else are you going to sit?” 

Sure enough, Rachel had invited more people than usual, and there were actually no seats open. You held your head high, determined not to show him his effect on you, and you moved closer to him. His eyes widened as you sat down on his lap, and he set down his beer next to him so that he could adjust you into him. 

Rachel was grinning widely at you from the next chair over and you ignored it, just jumping in to ask her about work. You chatted with Rachel for a while, enjoying the warmth Quinn provided with his arms wrapped around you. She got pulled into another conversation and you turned your attention to Quinn. 

“You’re being quiet,” you said and he gave you a small smile. 

“I’m enjoying the peacefulness,” he said and you smiled. “Still cold?”

“A little,” you replied and he shifted so you could lean into his chest. His head rested on top of yours. “Better.”

“Good,” he hummed. You watched the fire for a little bit before shifting again to get comfortable. 

“Stop moving,” Quinn rasped and you moved again to look up at him, earning a small groan. You were about to ask what was wrong but you felt it. He gave you a pointed look as you smirked, feeling him hard underneath you. 

“What’s wrong Huggy?” You teased as he squeezed his eyes shut. 

“Don’t be a tease,” he grunted. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you whispered. Looking around to see everyone engrossed in their own conversations, you smirked before resting your head on his shoulder for a second, bringing your lips to his neck, and nipping at the skin. 

Quinn lifted you off his lap, standing up with his hand holding onto yours tightly. 

“I think we’re going to head out,” he told Rachel and Paul. Rachel looked at you knowingly and stood up to hug you goodbye. You said goodbye to some other friends before following Quinn through the house and back out towards your car. 

The car was filled with a charged silence as you and Quinn sat next to each other, both knowing what was about to happen. 

You broke the stillness by casually asking, "Your place or mine?" Quinn's eyes flickered down to your lips, and without a word, he leaned over the console and grabbed the side of your head, pulling you closer to him. His lips met yours in a fiery kiss, his breath mingling with yours as he punished you for your teasing at the bonfire earlier. Your body responded eagerly, melting into his touch as you whimpered into the kiss. A small smirk tugged at Quinn's lips before he pulled back, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

“Your place as long as this isn’t a one-time thing,” he said and your eyes widened as you caught your breath. 

“What do you mean?” You asked. 

“I don’t do one-night stands,” he said simply and you tried to understand his words. 

“So you want to hook up more than once,” you said, and he chuckled, looking at you in amusement. 

"Forget just hooking up, princess. I want to take you out on real dates. I want to be by your side constantly. I need to see you outside of work, in every moment possible," he declared, his words igniting a fiery passion in your heart.

“But it’s really not allowed,” you said, shoulders sagging. 

“There is no rule against it,” he countered and you sat back thoughtfully. 

“Fine,” you agreed and he smiled. “I didn’t know you felt this way.”

“I’d be insane not to like you,” he said and you pressed your lips to his again, softer this time. 

You were nervous as you made the drive to your apartment. Quinn was quiet in the seat next to you, but his hand on your thigh assured you that he wanted this. He followed you out of the garage and up to your apartment, taking in the cozy space that was so you. 

After throwing your keys on the counter and taking your jacket off you stood facing him wanting him to make the next move. He eyed you slowly before coming towards you, raising his hand to hold the side of your head. 

“Are you sure?” He whispered and you hummed in agreement. That was all it took and his lips were on yours, his other hand pulling your hips into him. His lips moved harshly against yours, nipping at your bottom lip, causing you to gasp. 

Hands finding your ass, he lifted you up, letting you wrap your legs around him as he carried you to your bedroom. He laid you down gently, without breaking the kiss, hovering over your body. 

Quinn's hands roamed your body as he deepened the kiss, his tongue tangling with yours. You arched into him, craving more contact. He broke away to trail kisses down your neck, sucking gently at your pulse point.

"Quinn," you breathed, running your fingers through his hair.

He lifted his head to look at you, his eyes dark with desire. "God, you're beautiful," he murmured.

You blushed at his words, pulling him back down to capture his lips again. Your hands slid under his shirt, feeling the hard planes of his abs. Quinn groaned into your mouth, grinding his hips against yours.

Sitting up slightly, he tugged off his shirt before helping you remove yours. His eyes roamed your newly exposed skin hungrily.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked again, his voice husky.

You nodded, pulling him back down to you. "I'm sure," you whispered against his lips.

Quinn's hands skimmed down your sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He unclasped your bra, tossing it aside before cupping your breasts. You gasped as his thumbs brushed over your nipples.

"You're so responsive," he murmured, trailing kisses down your neck to your chest.

His mouth replaced his hands, tongue swirling around one nipple as his fingers teased the other. You arched into him, hands fisting in his hair as pleasure coursed through you.

Quinn continued his path downward, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your stomach. He looked up at you as he unbuttoned your jeans, silently asking permission. You lifted your hips, allowing him to slide them off along with your thong.

Quinn's eyes roamed over your now fully nude form, a look of awe on his face. "You're incredible," he breathed.

He kissed his way up your inner thigh, his stubble creating delicious friction against your sensitive skin. When he reached your center, he placed a gentle kiss there before slowly running his tongue along your folds.

You gasped, hips bucking involuntarily. Quinn gripped your thighs, holding you in place as he continued his attention. His tongue circled your clit before sucking it into his mouth, causing you to cry out in pleasure.

"Quinn, please," you whimpered, not even sure what you were begging for.

He slid a finger inside you, curling it to hit that spot that made you see stars. Adding a second finger, he pumped them in and out in tandem with the movements of his tongue.

“Fuck Quinn I’m gonna cum,” you whined out and he increased his pace. Your hands were gripping the sheets on either side of you and you struggled in his hold as your orgasm washed over you. He cleaned you up before coming back up to kiss your lips.

Quinn kissed you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. You could feel his hardness pressing against your thigh through his jeans. Reaching down, you palmed him through the fabric, causing him to groan into your mouth.

"These need to come off," you murmured, tugging at his waistband.

Quinn quickly shed his remaining clothes, kicking them off the bed. Your eyes roamed his now naked form appreciatively. He was all lean muscle, his body honed from years of hockey.

"Like what you see?" he asked with a smirk.

"Very much," you replied, pulling him back down to you.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, feeling his length slide against your wet folds. Quinn reached between your bodies, lining himself up at your entrance. He paused, looking into your eyes.

"Are you sure?" he asked one final time and you nodded, gasping as he pushed into you. “Fuck princess, you’re so tight.”

Quinn stilled for a moment, letting you adjust to his size. You rolled your hips, signaling him to move. He started with slow, deep thrusts, gradually building up speed.

"God, you feel amazing," he groaned, burying his face in your neck.

Quinn quickened his pace, his hips slamming into yours. You could feel your climax building, the pressure coiling in your belly.

Suddenly, Quinn changed positions, pulling you on top of him and sitting up against the headboard. He held onto your hips as you rode him, setting a pace that had both of you panting.

You leaned back, hands on his thighs for support as you tilted your hips to hit that spot inside you again and again. Quinn's fingers dug into your skin as he watched you pleasure yourself on him.

"You look so fucking beautiful like this," he groaned, and it pushed you over the edge.

You cried out his name as your orgasm washed over you once again, Quinn following soon after with a loud groan.

You lay there, panting and tangled in each other’s arms. Quinn pressed kisses along your neck and jaw, before pulling out of you.

"That was incredible," he said, flopping down beside you.

"Mhmm," you agreed, snuggling into his side.

“I was being serious about what I said earlier,” he said and you looked up to him. “I want all of you.”

“Then you can have me,” you said leaning up to kiss him. 

[beat-the-morning]

🖤Guitar Face || Hozier x Reader🖤

FULL FIC ON TUMBLR AFTER CUT || READ ON AO3

Rating: 18+ - Smut

Tags: Pre-Debut Hozier, vaginal fingering, finger sucking, vaginal sex, teasing, protected sex.

Summary: Andrew teaches you how to play guitar while you both try to ignore the very obvious and overwhelming sexual tension between you.

Word count: 5.4k

A/N: I’m back after a month of not posting (sorry lol) with a long fic to make up for lost time (yay) and to take our minds off of everything, really. When will I post my next fic, you ask? I don’t fucking know man, I’m just vibing. I do have a few ideas that I want to start, including a multichapter fic that will get written someday. Love you all, enjoy this pre-debut hozier fic💙

💙FULL FIC UNDER THE CUT💙

You needed a hobby, urgently. It was your second semester of your first year of university at Trinity College Dublin, and you had yet to find something to occupy your time that wasn’t studying, working, or just doing nothing with the group of friends that, despite your nervous and introverted nature, you had managed to form in your first semester. You were desperate for something new to do, a new skill or pastime to occupy you when all your friends were busy or simply when you felt like doing something other than hanging out with them.

The idea of learning guitar came to you after talking to one of your friends about your newfound need for a hobby, she mentioned that you had a great sense of rhythm and that you already really liked music, so why not pick up an instrument. She didn’t tell you to pick up guitar specifically, but it seemed like a good choice for learning in your spare time, and it’s not like you had the money to buy a keyboard or drums, much less a more classical instrument like a violin, a cello or a harp, and you already knew that you didn’t have the lungs for wind instruments.

You asked around your friend group if anyone had any suggestions for cheap guitars to buy, you got one that was moderately good and within your budget. You started to learn by yourself, the only thing was that you sucked, you barely understood the tutorials you found on youtube and didn’t even know if you were really doing it right, your fingers were sloppy and uncoordinated and you only angered yourself more and more with each note you got wrong. So, after two weeks and a half of frustration, you decided that maybe a guitar teacher wasn’t a bad idea, and that if that didn’t work you’d sell your guitar and pick up photography or something that didn’t require you to use your fingers as much.

It was Friday evening, and some members of Trinity Orchestra were having a small rehearsal/get together, and you knew your friend would be there since she was a pianist in the orchestra, so maybe she could help you learn guitar or at the very least find a teacher. You arrived at the get together when it was almost finished, you didn’t want to interrupt them, even if it wasn’t really a rehearsal, you felt out of place just by being there. Miranda, your friend, spotted you from her bench and beckoned you over to her, she’d been expecting you since you told her earlier that day that you’d go see her at the rehearsal, she was leaning on the closed piano, a half eaten bag of crisps sat on the cover of its keys. “I thought you’d come sooner, you missed the little concert.” She smiled.

“Nah, I’d rather not interrupt.” You smiled back, “anyway, what I wanted to talk about before you ran off today because of your horrible time manage skills-“

“-They’re not that bad, come on.” She pouted playfully, faking indignation.

“Bullshit.” You argued back, trying to hold in a laugh. “Now, do you know how to play guitar?”

“No, just piano, and the organ, kind of. Why?”

“I’ve been trying to learn how to play on my own but I can’t get the hang of it, I need a teacher or something.” You explained, trying to be quiet enough so that no one else would hear.

“Teacher for what?” A masculine voice asked from behind you, making you jump slightly in surprise. You turned around, a lanky guy with dorky glasses and a blonde fringe stood there, looking at you as he tried to guess who you were. “Have we met before?” He finally asked.

“I don’t think so,” you answered, a nervous smile on your face

“I’m Alex,” he smiled back to you, but his smile was more welcoming than anything else. You told him your name, and that you were a friend of Miranda, which prompted her to speak up.

“They’re trying to learn guitar,” she joined in. “Maybe you could help them?”

“Can’t, I’m drowning in coursework already, sorry,” Alex said earnestly, seeming genuinely sorry that he wasn’t able to help you learn how to play.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m sure I’ll find someone to teach me.” You assured him, relaxing a bit more now that you had spoken the slightest bit more to him.

“Andy could help you, though.” A smirk grew on his face, “he’s always looking for an excuse to not do his work.”

“Andrew’s a vocalist though isn’t he?” Miranda chimed in again.

“He does more things apart from singing, you know.” Answered Alex.

“I didn’t know he played guitar though, I’ve never seen him play it.” She argued.

“He does! He’s self taught though, so his has this weird way of playing where he-“

“Sorry, but, who’s Andrew?” You interrupted, needing some clarification as to who they were talking about.

“Right, you don’t know who he is,” Alex chuckled, “he’s that one over there.” He said, pointing over to a group of about five guys all chatting while standing around a table.

“Which one?” You asked, still not knowing who to look at.

“The tall one.” Alex and Miranda said in unison. Your eyes focused on him, a pale, lanky guy with dark, shaggy curls on his head and a 3 day stubble on his face and neck, he was at least half a head taller than the second tallest man in the conversation circle. He was smiling, his cheeks a rosy tone from how much he’d been laughing, his front teeth were slightly crooked from what you could see from a distance, and you noticed a pair of glasses in his left hand as your eyes trailed down his body, you assumed that they were his glasses with how he was holding them so close to his body. He was so cute, you thought to yourself, a bit of a nerd maybe but it’s not like you weren’t into it as well.

“Andy!” Alex’s call broke your train of thought, and maybe that was for the best, who knows where you were going to end up with those. Andrew turned to look at Alex, noticing Miranda sat on her seat, and then you, you could’ve sworn you saw him look you up and down as a small smirk formed on his face. Alex moved his arm to call him over, and he approached without hesitation, quickly walking over to the little group you were in.

Alex introduced you to each other and quickly explained your situation to Andrew, who agreed to teach you. You agreed on payment, how many times a week you’d meet, the whole thing, really, and then you exchanged numbers.

“If you want we can meet up tomorrow and we can start with the basics,” he suggested, putting on his glasses as he put your number in his phone. Fucking hell, he looked adorable with them on, you felt your cheeks heat up as you looked at him.

“Yeah, that’d be good,” you agreed without thinking, “I’ll send you my address and we can meet at my place if you want.”

“Sure,” he looked at you with a small smile. You decided on a time to meet and then went home for the night after saying goodbye to your friend.

You felt a nervous knot in your stomach as you laid down in your bed, the worry of making a fool of yourself in front of a cute guy was catching up on you. You shook those thoughts off, putting on some faint music before finally going to sleep.

You woke up the next day, looking at the clock on your bedside table only to find that it wasn’t actually morning, but past noon, almost 1pm in fact. You got ready for the day and had what could best be described as a big brunch before deciding to clean your apartment before Andrew arrived later in the day, something that you only remembered when you saw a message from him confirming that he had your address right. Why did you agree to this again? You cursed yourself as you cleaned up the small space you lived in, it was an attic converted into a studio apartment that was way too cheap for how big it was, but it’s not like you were going to complain.

Time passed as you finished cleaning your apartment, having just enough time to shower before Andrew arrived. You had just finished dressing up when your phone rang, you picked up to find Andrew on the other side of the line, asking you to open since the doorbell wasn’t working, so, taking your keys in your hand, you ran downstairs to open the front door for him. He was carrying a guitar case and what you assumed was a small amp, he wore a very simple outfit, a shirt and jeans with a brown leather jacket and some old tattered converse, but no glasses. “I like the jacket.” You said while guiding him towards the elevator.

“Thanks,” he smiled shyly, “I brought my electric guitar, I hope you don’t mind, my acoustic one has a broken string and I still need to replace it.”

“It’s fine, mine is electric too.” You smiled back.

You went into your apartment, he commented on the fact that it was a studio, and on the absence of a sofa. “The TV’s over there so I usually just put all my pillows on my bed and use it as a couch.” You explained, pointing out the TV on the wall next to the bed. Andrew laughed to himself, he mumbled something under his breath that you thought sounded like “that’s so fucking cute”. He sat on your bed, taking out his guitar and tuning it without even plugging it in to the amp.

You took out yours, tuning it as well with an app on your phone. You and Andrew talked for a bit, making jokes and breaking the tension before he explained the basics of guitar playing to you. You listened attentively and asked questions about the things you didn’t understand, he was a great teacher so far, and you could honestly listen to him speak for hours, his voice was lovely, no wonder Miranda said he was mainly a vocalist.

The time came to finally plug in the guitars, yours was already plugged to your amp, you just needed to turn it on, which you quickly did while Andrew set up his, he plugged the amp to the wall, grabbing the cable to plug it into his guitar, he wasn’t paying much attention to it though, his mind was somewhere else. While his head was, in fact, pointing down towards the guitar, his eyes were mostly looking up at you through his brows, using his curls as a shield so you wouldn’t notice him staring. His hand faltered, the jack circled the plug it was supposed to go in, making some magnetic noises come from the amplifier, you smiled at his dorkiness, finding it adorable. “Trouble putting it in?” You asked, not fully realising the other possible meaning of the question until it was already out of your mouth, he looked up at you with a quizzical look before you both burst into laughter at the question.

“I’m good, thanks,” he said between laughs, getting the jack into the plug once he finally stopped looking up at you. “‘trouble putting it in,’?” He echoed your words with a lovingly mocking tone, trying not to laugh again.

“I wasn’t thinking!” You tried to defend yourself while suppressing more laughter.

“Clearly,” he giggled.

The real, practical, lesson finally began, you spent the next hour and a half learning to play a couple chords and how to transition between them. It was hell, your hands were oddly shaky and very uncoordinated, so you asked for a break before you threw your guitar out the window. “Tea?” You asked, already thinking about making some for yourself so you could have an excuse to wander your apartment for a bit.

“Sure, I’ll have whatever you have.” Andrew nodded, standing up and stretching a bit and walking over to your bookshelf.

You went over to the kitchenette to put the kettle on, your thoughts wandering to how Andrew looked, he was so pretty, and you were definitely embarrassing yourself with your horrible guitar skills, but he had to have expected that, right? You did tell him that you knew basically nothing about playing guitar after all.

He walked closer to you, leaning on the kitchen island. “You’re not as bad as you told me you’d be yesterday, you know.” He said with a kind look in his eyes.

“I’m not?” You asked as you turned to face him.

“Yeah, I mean, your fingers are a bit uncoordinated and all but that’s just getting the hang of it.” He explained. “You picked up the chords and their positions on the neck of the guitar pretty quickly, though, that’s a good sign.”

“Oh, well that’s good at least,” you chuckled, “I don’t know if I’ll ever get the hang of it, though, I have horrible hand-eye coordination.”

“It can’t be that bad, come on,” he scoffed playfully, walking over to you and almost-sitting on the counter closest to you

“It is.”

“I think your hands are just fine, you just need to practise, and maybe learning guitar will help when you do other things with your hands, it did for me.” He winked, you felt your face heat up.

“What other things?” You tilted your head to the side as you smirked.

“Just… things, you’ll see what I mean.” He chuckled, he pressed his thumb into his palm. His eyes looked you up and down slowly, but you pretended not to notice.

“Oh I’m sure.” You laughed.

The water boiled and you made the tea, you lost the track of time as your conversation went on, it was ever so slightly flirty, just some comments here and there that made you both blush coupled with a few lingering touches. You’d be lying if you said that you didn’t want to do more than just learn guitar with him, but you didn’t want to be too forward, so you waited.

/#/#/#/

You met with Andrew for guitar lessons every other day for the next four weeks, slowly improving on your skill while also getting to know each other more and more, to the point that you’d hang out with him even if you weren’t practising, you’d gone to the pub with him and a few more friends a couple times and would just randomly message each other every so often throughout the day just to check on one another. It was nice, and, even if your crush on him had only gotten stronger as the days passed, you were glad to have a new friend. He was so sweet and just the right amount of dorky nerd that you couldn’t help but love him, you only hoped he felt the same way about you.

It was a Saturday evening, Andrew had been over at your apartment since lunch, you’d started the lesson right after he arrived at 1 and it was now 6:30pm, he’d been teaching you a song, or more so trying to. It wasn’t even a hard one, your hands just were not collaborating today and both you and Andrew were growing increasingly frustrated.

You were standing next to your bed while Andrew sat down on it, the guitar was strapped around you, you were considering making it against the ground in frustration. “You look angry, darling.” He pointed out, his expression unreadable.

“I’m not,” you lied, “just frustrated, I don’t know why I can’t get it right.”

“Maybe your hands are just tired, rest a bit and try again later.” He suggested.

“No.”

“The guitar won’t leave if you stop playing for a second, you know?”

“I just want to get this part right, just to hear how it sounds and then I’ll rest.”

Andrew scoffed, the smallest smirk forming on his face, he rolled his eyes before standing up and walking over to you, his frame towering over yours. “Let’s hear it then.” He ordered.

You swallowed air nervously, slightly intimidated by the combination of his height and the more strict and dominant tone his voice had taken. Your fingers moved on the guitar, clumsily playing the song and restarting it every time you messed up a note. After a few failed attempts, he moved behind you, grabbing the guitar even though it was still on you.

He pushed himself flush against your back, his hands playing the instrument as if you weren’t there. You felt the vibrations of the guitar against your abdomen and his body against your back, and, thanks to your height difference, you could perfectly feel his crotch pressing against your lower back. You felt your face heat up and a few whimpers escaping your mouth as he played, and he was definitely getting a bit into it as well, thrusting his hips into you as the song went on, the worst part was that you weren’t even sure if he was doing it because of the song or to rile you up, but that was the effect it was having anyway.

He stopped playing before he got to the chorus of the song, taking the guitar off you before he finally stepped away. “Heard it. Now, rest.” He instructed, throwing himself back on your makeshift couch.

“What the hell was that?” You asked dumbfounded, a nervous chuckle escaped you.

“Sorry, I just… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, it was weird.” He mumbled, his eyes focusing on your pillows instead of on you.

“I didn’t think it was weird,” you stretched the truth lightly, you had thought it slightly weird when he did that, but you also couldn’t ignore the burning between your thighs and you needed to know if he was feeling the same way you were right now. “You could’ve just taken the guitar off me, though.”

“It wouldn’t have worked, you would’ve gotten mad at me.” He bit his lip to fight back a smirk. “I wasn’t really thinking, anyway, and you said you wanted to hear how it sounded so… yeah.”

Your eyes wandered to his crotch for a second, he looked like he was at least slightly hard. Quickly focusing back on his face, you giggled and threw yourself on the makeshift couch next to him, you laid on your side, looking at Andrew with a small, loving smile on your face.

“What’s the smile for?” He asked, turning to his side so he could face you as well.

“Nothing,” you continued to smile. “It’s just funny that you’re kind of beating yourself up about it when I actually kinda liked it.”

“Oh?” His eyes widened for a second as he scooted closer to you. “And what about it did you like?”

“I like how the guitar felt against me. The vibrations of it, you know? I play so slow that I don’t usually feel them like… that.” You bit your thumb lightly, trying to appear a bit more innocent so he wouldn’t guess what you were really thinking about.

“Yeah, they’re nice,” he looked at your lips as well, then scooted even closer. “Anything else you liked?”

“Well… I liked how you felt… against me.” You admitted, only to see Andrew’s smile widening. His hand moved to your cheek, silently encouraging you to keep going. “I liked how you were thrusting against me, it felt nice.”

“Just nice?” He teased, caressing your cheek.

“It was kinda hot, too.”

“I thought so too, maybe we could do something about it?” He suggested, his hand moving to your hip.

You nodded weakly, your lips parting ever so slightly. Andrew lunged in to kiss you, his mouth crashing against yours as you kissed him back passionately. Slowly he moved to be on top of you as you kissed, his right leg moved between yours, pressing against your core. Your hips moved against his legs, desperate for any kind of release. His tongue darted into your mouth, exploring as it pleased while your hands tangled in his shaggy curls.

You deepened the kiss, it became sloppier and more desperate as the seconds passed by, Andrew pulled back, a string of saliva still connecting your mouths to each other’s. His breathing mirrored yours, ragged and irregular even as you tried to calm down slightly. His glasses were slipping off his nose, so, as one does, you moved your hand from his hair and adjusted them, making him chuckle softly. “I feel like a fucking teenager.” He laughed, leaning in to plant small kisses on your jaw and neck.

“You’re twenty-two, not that far from it.” You teased while quiet moans escaped your lips.

“Shut up.” He laughed, his kisses on your skin turning more demanding. His hands snaked under your shirt, slowly pulling it off you until he could finally throw it on to the floor. He grabbed your breasts, moving his face between them before starting to kiss and lightly bite them, you arched your back into him, more moans escaping you.

“Fuck! Andy… please,” you moaned loudly, he hummed against your chest.

“What is it, baby?” He asked with a wicked smile, looking up at you through the rim of his glasses. You whimpered and rubbed yourself against his leg as a response, making him chuckle once more. “So needy… I’ve been wanting you for a while, let me at least play a little before I ravage you.”

“Play faster, I want you now.” You whined again, pulling him in to kiss him. He happily obliged, kissing you back while his hands made quick work of your jeans.

Your jeans and underwear quickly joined the growing pile of discarded clothing on your floor, leaving you completely bare. Your hands moved from Andrew’s hair as he pulled away from your mouth, instead trailing kisses down your neck and collarbone once more, your touch moved to the hem of his shirt, pulling at the cloth to try and pull it off him already. He quickly caught onto that and pulled his own shirt and undershirt off himself, uncovering his torso. He was still as lanky and thin as he was with clothes on, but he was a bit fuller than you had imagined, the slightest bit of pudge gathering on his abdomen. Your gaze turned him slightly shy, his cheeks reddening as he looked away for a second.

“I know this probably isn’t what you imagined,” he said sheepishly, a nervous tone in his voice, “I’m s-“

“You’re so pretty,” you interrupted him, still staring at his body.

“You really think so?”

“Yeah, I do.” You smiled, your hands grazed his skin. “You’re very hot, too.”

“Flatterer.” He smiled back, leaning in to kiss you again. You felt goosebumps forming on his skin the more you caressed him.

“I would never, I’m only saying what I think.” You kissed him back.

He hummed happily into the kiss, his hand travelling lower and lower on your body until it reached your core. He gently caressed it with two fingers, smiling darkly when he felt just how wet you were. Slowly, he played with your clit, making you whimper and buckle your hips against his hand, silently begging for more. He obliged, moving to push two fingers inside you and making you gasp at the intrusion, he slowly pumped them in and out, his thumb moving to play with your clit.

“Is this something that playing guitar helps with?” You teased while trying to suppress your moans.

Andrew chuckled, his fingers quickening. “Yes, actually.” He kissed along your jaw. “It helps a lot, makes it easier to fuck you.”

You moaned more, holding onto him like a lifeline as he played with you. His lips moved to your neck again, leaving passionate kisses and hickeys as he memorised every inch of your skin. His movements quickened even more, his thumb playing with your clit in a way that made your legs shake slightly, his other hand grabbed your hip, his nails digging into your skin. You felt the all-familiar burning-white desire in your lower abdomen, your whines got more and more high pitched until they were nothing more than needy whimpers.

Andrew chuckled, pulling away from your neck to look at your face as you came undone before him. “That’s it, let go for me,” he whispered softly, his free hand now moving up to brush your hair away from your face. “That’s it, good girl. Let me feel you, baby, please.”

You felt something snap within you at his words, pure pleasure running through you as you came on his fingers, covering them with your essence. He smiled at your blissed out expression, taking it in as he fingered you through your orgasm. Once it subsided he pulled out his fingers and licked them clean as you looked at him, a moan escaping him as he finally tasted you.

“Fuck, you’re delicious, I’m going to fucking devour you next time.” He growled.

“Why not now?” You teased breathlessly, still recovering from your orgasm.

“Because I might explode if I don’t put my dick inside you right now.” He teased back, reaching into his wallet for a condom. “Can I fuck you now, baby? Or do you need to recover a bit more first?”

“Now, please.” You begged without thinking.

Andrew smiled at your eagerness, taking off his pants and underwear to reveal his cock, it was as long as you thought, or hoped, it’d be, somewhere above average that was still enjoyable, but his thickness surprised you, he was wider than you’d imagined. You felt your mouth watering. “You’re staring.” He said firmly, rolling on the condom, “does it scare you?” He asked, his tone a mixture of dominance and genuine concern.

“No.” You smiled, opening your legs more. “I was just a bit surprised.”

“A good surprise, I hope.” He smiled back, grabbing your legs and pulling you closer to him. You chuckled at his words.

“A very good surprise, yeah.”

You reached out to touch him once again, his hands catching yours and pushing them to be above your head. He held them in place with his left hand while his right travelled to your thigh, lifting it ever so slightly as he positioned himself between your legs. His cock brushed lightly against your core, making you both whimper lightly at the feeling, then, slowly, he pushed in. Your gasp matched his moaning, soft and quiet enough that it was almost whispered, he was pushing in slowly, making sure it wasn’t painful for you. He bottomed out after a few more seconds, his movements stopping as he let you get used to his size. He leaned in to kiss you, a slow, loving kiss that had you melting into his touch even more.

You moved your hips after a few kisses, signalling Andrew to move. He happily obliged, slowly thrusting in and out of you. Your moans filled the room, making a symphony with his. “You feel so fucking good, baby, oh my god.” He practically whimpered into your ear, interlocking his fingers with yours. His other hand held tightly onto your thigh, his grip almost bruising as he lost himself in you. You shook your hand free from his, moving it to his hair along with your other hand to pull him in for a kiss, muffling your moans.

“Faster, please.” You begged between kisses, Andrew growled in response, letting go of all his restraint. His pace quickened to a brutal one, pistoning in and out of you without a care in the world. Your hands moved down to his back, your nails leaving scratches as you neared your peak just from the feeling of his cock inside you.

He straightened up, getting a better view of you, completely blissed out and moaning like crazy, sweat making some of your hair stick to your face. His hand caressed your cheek lovingly, his thumb pressing on your mouth to pry it open. “Open up, baby.” He ordered, and you obeyed without hesitation. His thumb moved inside your mouth, pressing on your tongue. “Suck.” He added.

And you did, sucking gently on his thumb as a lopsided smile grew in his face. He whispered soft praises as he fucked you, his thumb thrusting slightly in and out at a gentle pace to contrast the one of his hips.

He moved your leg with his other hand so your ankle would be resting on his shoulder, changing the angle in just the right position so his pubic bone would hit your clit every time he bottomed out. Your moans got louder, or as much as they could since your sucking of his thumb muffled most of the noise. Andrew moaned too, quieter, softer moans that could only be audible between your own, but you loved every single one you could hear. You felt his cock twitch inside you.

You felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your own hand moving to your clit to give you the extra friction you needed. Andrew pulled his thumb out of your mouth and moved it to your clit before you could reach it on your own, flicking it rapidly as he moved your leg off his shoulder so he could lean in to kiss you again. You moaned into his mouth and he moaned into yours, both of you nearing your respective climaxes, his cock twitched more inside you, his thrusting becoming erratic and uncoordinated. You felt the pure, unadulterated ecstasy threatening to explode within you once more, your hands moving once more to Andrew’s hair as he kissed you.

“Come for me, baby, come on, let me hear you again pet.” He moaned, pulling back slightly so he could see your face as you came undone below him. “So fuckin’ pretty, come on, love.”

You came under him not long after, pure pleasure flowing through you as your body shook with your orgasm. But Andrew didn’t stop, chasing his own release as his thrusts became even more irregular than before, and, just as you were starting to feel the overstimulation taking over, he came, releasing his spent into the condom and stopping his movements almost completely, savouring the feeling of your walls around him. He moaned loudly, his head going back slightly as his eyes closed and his jaw slacked, you grinned slightly, recognising his current expression as the same one he did when playing a more upbeat guitar solo.

After a few more seconds, you both calmed down, and Andrew leaned in to kiss you once more, slowly and lovingly this time. You kissed back, your bodies still entangled with each other as you savoured the afterglow of your lovemaking. Carefully, and despite how much neither of you wanted that, he pulled out of you, detaching himself from you so he could take off the condom and throw it out. “I’ll be back in a second, stay put.” He murmured before giving you a quick kiss and walking towards your bathroom.

He came back not long after with a damp washcloth in hand, cleaning you up slightly before helping you sit up on your bed. “I should go to the bathroom,” you pointed out.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “go on, I’ll wait here for you.”

You smiled lovingly, getting up and into the bathroom, coming out of it a few minutes later after refreshing yourself. You found Andrew laying on your bed, having put his boxers back on while you’d been washing up. He smiled at the sight of you, opening his arms for you to cuddle into, and that you did, crawling into your bed and hugging him tight. He played with your hair as you cuddled, talking about random things before you decided to be a bit cheeky. “Did you know you have the exact same face when playing guitar that you do when you cum?”

“Shut up,” he laughed, “…do I really?”

“Yeah.”

“Is it at least a nice face or do I look like an idiot?” His face reddened ever so slightly.

“I think it’s a very pretty face, just like your normal one.” You assured him honestly.

“Thank god.” He laughed again, holding you tighter to him. “Can I stay the night?” He added, a hint of uncertainty and pleading in his tone.

“You better stay.” You smiled, nuzzling your face into his chest.

Andrew smiled back, burying his face in your hair and taking in your scent.

[chuusheartattck]

THAT’S THAT ME ESPRESSO (TTME)

Chapter 18- Feeling lucky ☕️

10 minutes had gone by since Xiao last texted you. You were getting nervous since the reception desk lady has been staring at you ever since you walked in.

“Do you need something or are you going to just wait here?” She rudely asked.

What a bitch.

Just as you were about to answer, the elevator dings.

Xiao walks out and spots you. “You actually showed up.”

“I said I was sorry.”

Xiao only chuckled and began walking to the elevator. You turn to the lady and shrug before following him. You both got inside and he pressed the button for the 12th floor.

The elevator ride was filled with an awkward silence. None of you spoke a word. It had been a while since you last saw each other. The last time you tried to make plans, you did flake last minute. Not knowing what else to do, you checked your phone to see if Scara had texted you.

Nothing.

You turn to Xiao wanting to say something but nothing came out. Luckily, the elevator doors open and you walk out with Xiao following you.

“It’s over here.” He points to the left.

He opens the door to the practice room. You’re blinded by the bright lights. A giant mirror that covers the entire wall is on the right. The room being huge would be an understatement.

“I think Furina hates us because our practice room is half the size of this.” You look around in awe.

“That’s because Venti uses a bunch of backup dancers for his performances.” Xiao replies. “Plus Ei likes to go all out for the company.”

Inazuma Entertainment was no joke.

“So uh how are we going to do this?” You question. “I mean like with the performance how do you want it to go?”

Xiao sits on the floor to think. You do the same and sit down next to him.

He turns to you. “I was probably thinking something like we both do our sets one at a time on the big stage. Then come down to second stage where it’s closer to the audience for the cover.”

“I think that could work. Honestly I feel like you should go first. Your songs are depressing and mine is more upbeat. So it’d be a mood killer if you were to go after me. No offense.” You suggested.

Xiao let out a small laugh. “My songs aren’t that depressing.”

“Your newest song is one I’d listen to if I was going through a break up or something.” You replied back with.

“Like You Do is actually about missing someone.” He corrected you.

You repeated what he said in a nerd voice. He playfully rolled his eyes at you.

“Whatever. I’ll go first and we can work on the transitions to your song later. How should we do the cover?” Xiao asked.

You paused for a moment.

How DO you want it to go?

You took out your phone to look at the performance of the original singers with Xiao.

You did notice that Scara hasn’t texted back.

Maybe he’s busy?

“It looks like all they do is just stand around stage looking hot.” You mention as you turned towards him. “Do you know how to dance?”

Xiao raises an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Let’s choreograph a dance for the song.” You get up from the floor. “It’d be boring if we just stood there and did nothing.”

He looks at you for a moment before sighing and gets up with you. A smile forms on your face realizing he just complied with your decision.

“When I was a trainee I trained for dancing but I don’t normally do it for my songs.” He warns you. “I’m not sure how good I’ll be.”

You walk over to the speaker and begin to play a song.

“And that is why I’ll teach you a bit of the choreo for this song.” You say with a proud smile on your face. “I learned it when I was a trainee.”

.

.

.

As you were watching him, he actually wasn’t bad. If he was in a group he’d probably be the main dancer. It’s a shame he doesn’t use it to his advantage.

“How was it?” Xiao asked.

“I’m going to cut this short since you’re completely out dancing me.” You say pausing the music. “Let’s start making a new dance for the song.”

.

.

.

Hours have gone by and you two finally finalized the final choreo. You checked your phone for the time.

“Oh shit I didn’t even realize the time.” 11 whole hours have gone by since you had first arrived. It was now 9 pm.

Still though, no text from Scara.

What could he be doing?

“We’re basically done so we can wrap this up. Do you want to order food?” Xiao replies with taking out his phone.

“Uhh sure what do you want?”

“Anything is fine.”

“What about Wingstop?” You suggested.

“Ok.” He said while ordering. “What do you want?”

“Korean bbq, lemon pepper, and cajun.”

“It’ll come in 30 minutes.” He said while shutting off his phone. “I already paid for it so don’t worry about it.”

“Are you sure? You know you didn’t have to.” It was nice for him to pay but you were the one that suggested Wingstop in the first place.

“It’s fine.” He goes over to where the mics are. “Let’s try practicing the choreo with the singing before the food gets here.” Xiao passes you a microphone.

Just as you two were about to start, you notice him humming a very familiar tune. One a singer would hum if they were working late.

“Are you seriously humming my song?” You look over at him.

“It’s fitting for right now.”

You couldn’t hold back your smile. It felt nice that he knew the lyrics to Espresso. In the back of your mind however, you wished it was someone else who remembered.

.

It was already the end of the fifth practice and the music has just faded, leaving a lingering echo of its rhythm in the air. You and Xiao are standing close to each other, your breaths slightly heavy from the exertion of the practice.

Your bodies are almost touching, and the heat from the exertion mixes with the warmth of the room. Your eyes lock and you can only hear the panting from being out of breath. Your faces are only inches apart.

Xiao takes a small step closer, his hand gently brushing against yours.

A voice enters the room.

“Hey Xiao I got your- WOAHH.”

You both turn like a deer caught in headlights. You both take a step back trying to gain composure.

Of course it was fucking Venti.

“What are you two doing?” Venti was holding a Wingstop bag.

“Reading!” You quickly replied with.

Shit.

“Yeah more like reading each other’s lips.” Venti giggled while handing the bag to Xiao. “I picked up your Wingstop from downstairs. I knew you would be here but I didn’t know you were with Y/n. Just as I suspected, two know each other. Sorry for cockblocking though.”

You could only awkwardly laugh.

Would you have actually done anything with Xiao?

Venti speaks again. “Well since I’m here and I did pick up the food. I deserve to have some.” He says as he sits down on the floor. “Plus I have some questions for you two.”

Fuck.

You and Xiao sit down next to Venti. There’s now a heavy silence between the three of you. You both watch as Venti opens the bag and takes everything out. Acting like he paid for the damn food.

You watch Venti start stuffing his face. It was like watching a live mukbang.

“What? Don’t just stare at me.” Venti’s words could barely be audible with the amount of food in his mouth. “So how do you two know each other?”

“From the party.” Xiao said while grabbing a piece.

“You two knew each other from that long?” Venti looked surprised. “Damn. I knew something was up though. Can’t believe I was right. What are you two doing so late?”

You took a sip of your water before replying. “Practicing for the tcas. Didn’t you see on twitter?”

“No I deleted twitter for a while. Someone said I sounded like dollar tree Troye Sivan.”

Xiao snickered.

“Not funny. If anything I sound better than him.”

You and Xiao both looked at each other before bursting out laughing.

“Fuck you guys.” Venti huffed.

Another silence came. You had no idea why but it was difficult to talk to them. That is, until Xiao asked you a question.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you. How do you know Scara?”

You almost choked on your food at the mention of his name. Nonetheless, you quickly gained your composure. “He was in my same fifth grade class but he doesn’t remember since we never talked. We went to the same middle school but never talked there either. Junior year I was a TA for his math class. We would occasionally talk and I would help him cheat on the tests by giving him the answer keys. After junior prom is when we got close, and in the summer we would talk a lot. Same with the beginning of senior year.” You paused for a moment. “But during senior year he got distant so we drifted and it wasn’t the same as before. We took graduation pictures but that’s about it. I cut off contact with him shortly after.”

“Well now you’re texting him again right?” Venti piped in. Little did he know, he was being an instigator.

“Not really, we just text each other sometimes. It’s still not the same how it was before.” Reminiscing on the past made you realize how upset you were with how everything turned out. He was a dick before, and still is, but that doesn’t mean you don’t miss your guy’s conversations.

“You shouldn’t worry about him. He doesn’t seem to care.” Xiao finally spoke. “If I were you, I wouldn’t even bother.”

This confused you. “What do you mean?”

“I wouldn’t even be in contact with him still. Me personally, I would block him.” Xiao’s demeanor was different than usual. In his mind, he was panicking. He didn’t want you to be in contact with Scaramouche. It would ruin his chances with you.

None of you guys spoke after that. What was there to say? Even Venti couldn’t think of anything. It was obvious what Xiao was trying to do.

All three of you finished and Venti decided to leave right after. He only came for the food. Xiao offered to walk you to your car, the walk there was pretty quiet.

When you got to your car he finally spoke.

“Sorry for what I said earlier. It’s your choice on what to do.”

“It’s ok. Don’t worry about it.” You reassured him.

You hugged him goodbye and you got inside your car. As you were driving back home, you started thinking about how the day went. It was nice to see Xiao and talk to him, but it didn’t feel right. He was a nice guy, but you found it hard to be yourself around him. Maybe once you get to know him more it’d change.

The whole day went by and Scaramouche still has you on delivered.

Masterlist II Previous II Next

A/N: I hope you xiao stans like this chapter 🤭 I was craving wingstop while writing this if you couldn’t tell. The last two parts of act 2 will be very dramatic!! Also I created the storyline for my next smau (aka xiao centered) so i might post it soon if i feel like it ✊

ALSOOO lmk if you guys want your users to be added to this au and i’ll make you a twitter user :)

Synopsis: You’re a new idol that just debuted under ‘Fontaine Entertainment’ with your new single ‘Espresso.’ You just graduated high school which means all your classmates are shocked to see you into stardom. Including your old situationship, who happens to be an actor.

Taglist: @skyoverkill1 @quacking-simp @lolmeowing @astro-stars @kaitfae @sl-vega @scarawiki @yuminako @samyayaya @skyvella @kur0kki @practicoi @kukikoooo @scaraenthusiast1 @shutingstar @lloovvv @moonjellyfishie @miy-svz @xionri @lalalaloveallmydays @hearts4lizzzz @kathiwis @state-of-grac3 @morgyyyyyyy @scaradooche @theyluvkatt @meigalaxy @noirechomps @crimxeorcremeexistspeacefully @vxcmx @ariesloves @cayl33n @animeobsessed56 @heartsforni-ki @feikyuu @ichcocat @strayharmony943 @chscklvr @kunikissr

[freedomfireflies]

Lead Me*

Summary: An extra for Teach Me*

You're on your period and your best friend Harry is determined to help you feel better.

Your only condition?

He's not allowed to look.

Word Count: 5.1k

*Contains Mature and Explicit Content. Take care of yourself first, only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞*

“Absolutely not.”

“Bee…come on—”

“No. Nope. Not happening.”

“And why not?”

“Because…it’s…just, no.”

“Leading experts say that sex can help with cramps.”

“…okay? And?”

“And…I think you should let me fuck your cramps away.”

Your expression falls, eyes narrowing into condescending slits. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am,” he says calmly, nodding once to accentuate his point. “People do it all the time.”

“But not us.”

“Again, why not?”

“Because it’s…messy. It’s gross.”

“You have a blood kink; I don’t understand why this is different.”

“Oh, my god. This is so vastly different.”

“Well…not for me. I think it’s kind of hot.”

Instinctually, your nose scrunches as you lean back. “Ew, seriously?”

“Ew? What do you mean ew?” He nearly scoffs as he shoots you a confused but amused smile. “Bee…it’s you. It’s…you know, the circle of life or whatever. And it’s still the best pussy I’ve ever had.”

You allow yourself a moment to consider it before once again shaking your head. “No. Nope. That’s…you don’t need to see me like that. It’s…not pretty.”

The skin between his brows crinkles as he studies you, the left side of his mouth quirking up. “That’s silly.”

And maybe it is, but you can’t help the warming of your face. “Har, I’m serious. Periods are messy, and not at all sexy. Trust me, you wouldn’t like it.”

He takes a step forward and gingerly brushes his thumb across your cheekbone until he can cradle your jaw in his palm. “You know what is sexy?”

“Hm?”

“Making you feel good,” he murmurs as you just about melt. “I mean it. I trust you, Bee, always. But I need you to trust me when I tell you that this doesn’t change anything. Obviously, we won’t do it if you aren’t comfortable. But I think we’d both benefit.”

You contemplate his premise a second time.

“Besides…” he continues, smiling a bit wider, “…neither one of us has ever done it before, yeah? So, we’d get to try this for the first time—together. You’d teach me, and I’d teach you.”

And you adore the sound of that. Adore the idea of getting to learn something with him. Be his first the way he is yours.

You hover your palms over his chest and sigh. “Okay, yeah. I know. But…what if you don’t like it? What if you think it’s weird?”

He frowns. “I won’t, but even if I do, we can always stop.”

“What if it’s messy? Which it will be.”

“S’what showers are for.”

“Okay, but what if it’s too—”

He presses his free hand to your other cheek. “Bee?”

You slow to a stop. “Yeah?”

“What if it’s good?” he whispers, bringing you closer until you can feel the question ghost across your lips. “What if it’s so fucking good? What if it’s exactly what you needed? What if it’s everything?”

You swallow a huff and a whimper. “Don’t…”

“Don’t what?” The tip of his nose nuzzles against yours, taunting you with the thought of a kiss. “Don’t make you feel good? Don’t make it worth it? Don’t make really good points?”

You can’t help but pout playfully.

“I promise, Bee,” he continues, meeting your eye. “I only want to make you feel better. Make you feel everything. Be so gentle with you, I swear.”

You begin to tug on his shirt, desperately needing him closer. “I know, Har. I know, I just…I’m nervous.”

“I know,” he echoes, humming as he strokes his fingers across your skin. “But you never have to be nervous with me. It’s just sex, and it’s just us. I promise. Nothing will ever change that.”

“Says the man that started this whole arrangement because of sex,” you retort, and he grins.

“That was different.”

“How?”

“Because I already knew I liked you. The sex didn’t change that, it just confirmed it.”

“Mhm. Sure.”

“I’m serious. Need me to prove it to you?”

You exhale a gentle laugh as you take hold of his wrists and nuzzle into his touch. “No. I just…I don’t know. If I agree…I’ll have conditions.”

“Of course. And what are they?”

You think. “Uh…shit, I don’t know. We give it maybe a ten-minute trial run, and if we hate it, we stop.”

You can tell he’s fighting a rather smug smile as he nods once. “Okay. Deal.”

“And we have to put down a lot of towels. Like…cover the whole bed. Just in case.”

“Fine. Anything else?”

“We do it missionary. I think that’ll maybe be a bit…cleaner. Maybe.”

He smirks. “All right. Is that all?”

“You can’t look.”

He runs his tongue over his bottom lip and lifts an eyebrow. “I can’t look?”

“Nope.”

“Bee…how am I supposed to fuck you if I can’t see what I’m doing?”

“I’ll tell you.”

“You’ll tell me?”

“Yeah. You know, tell you how to move and everything.”

He laughs again. “I think that’s overcomplicating things a bit.”

“Oh, come on. It’ll be easy. It’s the same as me tying your hands.”

“That is not the same, and you know it.”

“Well…it’s my biggest condition. Either you don’t look, or we don’t do it.”

This time, he huffs. “This is silly.”

“You’ve mentioned.”

“But I still want to do it.”

“…seriously?”

“Seriously. I think you underestimate what I’d do for you.”

You pull your lip between your teeth and bite. “Har…we don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he says again. “I mean it. Yeah, I’d like to be able to see it. But…for a first time, if this is what you need to feel comfortable…then we’ll do it this way. Might even be fun.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he agrees, letting his hands drop to your hips while his mouth moves to your neck. “Having you tell me what to touch…how to touch it.”

You feel your breath hitch as his tongue takes a taste of the skin on your throat. 

“You wanna be my eyes, Bee?” he whispers, in that low, dangerous way that makes your stomach drop to your toes. “Wanna tell me how pretty you look taking my cock? Tell me how wet you are, how you drip for me? How swollen your little clit is? How hard your nipples are—”

“Harry,” you breathe, head dropping back as his teeth graze the vein below your jaw. “Shit, stop—”

“Stop what?” You feel the tips of his fingers brush beneath the hem of your shirt, dancing across your stomach until you squirm. “Stop touching you? Or stop agreeing with you?”

Your hands disappear into his curls, and you tug as though your life depends on it. “Stop…being so good.”

You feel him grin into your shoulder as he guides you toward the bed. “No.”

The backs of your legs hit the mattress and you both tumble down while Harry works to keep his lips on your body. 

His large hand hikes your leg over his hip until he can settle comfortably above you, groaning into your chest as you gasp for air.

“Please…” you hear yourself pant, nails scratching down his shoulder blades, desperate to bring him closer.

“I know,” he says, already tugging on your shirt. “I know. Gonna make it better, Bee. Promise.”

He grinds down, allowing for you to feel how hard he is, how bad he really wants this—needs this. 

And despite the multiple layers between you, it’s exhilarating and so sweet. Making you whimper his name as you attempt to thrust up against his cock for a second time.

He pulls your shirt over your head, revealing your lavender colored bra to his hungry gaze, and smiles when he sees it. 

“I like this one,” he tells you, and you chuckle as your head drops back onto the bed.

“I know. That’s why I wore it.”

“Good,” he whispers, returning his trail of wet kisses down your throat. “Good.”

And it is so good. So easy and effortless that you’re almost swept away by the current that is him. Drowning in his ability and his intentions as he lures you into the deepest depths of desire.

“Wait,” you whine the second his palms smooth up your thighs. “Wait…we need…I gotta get the towels.”

He groans as though his entire world has just collapsed, face burying into your neck as if to trap you. “Bee—”

“You promised,” you remind him, attempting to wiggle free. “Okay, I just need to get everything set up and then we can go.”

But he keeps his body pressed to yours, caging you to the bed as he pulls your earlobe between his teeth. “Don’t wanna stop. Just wanna make you feel good—”

“I know,” you murmur, grabbing a handful of his hip so you can force him onto his back. “And you will. Just one second. Go ahead and strip.”

He makes another depraved noise but does allow you to climb from the bed and rush to the bathroom.

After grabbing a plethora of towels, you return to find him sprawled naked across the blankets, sporting nothing more than a smug smile. 

And you laugh before motioning for him to stand while you lay the cloth down. Although he pouts through every second of it. Leaning against the wall, arms crossed, and cock incredibly hard.

But once you’ve finally finished, he sighs with relief, and strides toward you.

“Hold on,” you call, hand outstretching to stop his advance. “I gotta grab the blindfold.”

“Bee,” he nearly scoffs. “You weren’t serious about that.”

“Deadly,” you retort as you move for the nightstand to find the silk tie. “Unless you’d rather we just don’t do it at all.”

He takes a deep breath, almost as if to settle his nerves before smiling softly. “Of course I want to. And of course we’ll do it this way if that's what you need. I just…you can’t blame me for grieving the loss.” 

Entertained with his efforts, you chuckle to yourself and retrieve the scarf before gesturing for him to sit.

He’s quick to obey, perching on the edge of the mattress as he watches you approach. His expression bleeds willing anticipation, hands gathering in his lap, and eyes widening.

You come to a stop in front of his legs, unable to resist smiling down at your sunshine boy as you gently brush your fingers through the dark hairs atop his head.

His lashes flutter, head rolling back to follow your touch while humming contently beneath a soft breath.

“Thank you,” you whisper, a desperate fist clenching around your heart.

He blinks himself back to clarity. “For what?”

“For just…being you.”

A rush of adoration overwhelms his expression, his meadow-green eyes softening as he reaches down to take hold of your wrist.

“Of course,” he says before guiding the blindfold in your hand toward his head. “Go. I trust you.”

I trust you.

Overwhelmed by a surge of confidence, you dip down, and kiss him. Teeth and tongues clash as you each greedily steal a taste, breathing him in as though your life depends on it.

And once he’s settled in your lungs, you lean back, and slip the tie over his eyes.

His muscles tense the moment his vision is taken from him, but the delicate sweep of your fingertips across his skin as you secure the knot seems to undo the stress.

“You okay?” you ask, making sure to keep your voice quiet so as to not startle him.

He nods, chest rising and falling as he inhales deeply. “Mhm. Miss you already, though.”

You grin. “Okay, I’m gonna get ready. Don’t move, all right?”

Another nod, this one silent.

With a strange feeling in your stomach (that you can’t blame on cramps), you step back and begin to slip your shorts off.

You’re thankful that today’s flow isn’t too heavy. Although you’d still rather die than let him see.

But he’s patient, smiling to himself as he hears you rustle around, your aggravated huffs making him chuckle.

Finally, you’ve rid yourself of all clothing, leaving your thighs to squeeze together in an attempt to keep everything…intact.

You’d removed the tampon while you were in the bathroom, and now that you’re ready, and this is actually happening…your pulse begins to race.

“Bee?” Harry murmurs, almost as if sensing the shift. “You okay?”

“Yes.” Your voice is light. Airy. A tad strained as you timidly approach him. “I’m…yeah. Just…trying to wrap my head around it.”

He hums, straightening up slightly as if to comfort you. “I know, it’s okay. I’m here. M’right here. Don’t have to be nervous. It’s just us.”

“Just us,” you repeat, attempting to emblazon such a promise across your heart. “Always.”

“Always.”

You make yourself known to him, ghosting your fingers up the length of his arm and along the slope of his shoulder. “Okay…I’m ready. Are you?”

“Mhm. Just tell me what to do.”

But you don’t tell him.

You lead him.

You take his hand in yours and bring him to his feet. His grip is strong, grasping onto your palm so tight, you won’t be surprised to feel the residual aches tomorrow.

You walk to the foot of the bed and begin guiding your bodies down, leading him in a crawl across the towels. You go slow, making sure that he knows to brace himself with his other hand and with his knees as he follows you. 

You can see the quiver in his stomach when he hovers himself above where you lay, the corners of his mouth dancing up in a delicate but shy smile.

“You’re doing so good,” you murmur, lifting to nose under his jaw and leave a reassuring kiss. “You okay?”

“Mhm.” His head drops, almost as if chasing after your lips. “Yeah. Are you?”

“Yes,” you breathe, one hand trailing down the rigid dips along his chest. “Your heart’s beating really fast, Har.”

“I know,” he says. “S’cause I’m excited.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” Another nod. “Everything is you.”

Your stomach wrenches in the best possible way. “Really?”

“Really. Every one of my senses is just…you.”

You press your lips over his racing pulse. “Hope that’s a good thing.”

He grins. “It is. It’s everything.”

You kiss him. With each possible ounce of love you have to offer, and he groans against your tongue as he settles into the familiar mold of your mouth.

Muscle memory seems to serve him well as he makes his home between your thighs, palm already traveling down the curve of your hip.

And you know what he wants. What he aims to do, and as if out of reflex, you snatch onto his wrist and bring him to a stop.

“Wait,” you whisper, nose pressed to his cheek. “Sorry, I…I’m not—”

“It’s okay,” he says quickly, releasing his hold to intertwine his fingers with yours. “Lead me, Bee. Tell me what to do. Tell me what you want.”

“You,” you whimper, unable to deny the less-than-dull ache forming deep within your belly. Even nerves can’t tamp down such desire. “You, I just…I’m not sure—”

“We can go slow,” he tells you. “Until you’re ready.”

His assurance does absolutely nothing to ease the need in your heart and you whine to yourself before scratching your nails down his skin. “Don’t wanna go slow, I just…I just have to do it.”

But his head shakes. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Bee. We can stop right now. Do you need to call watermelon?”

“No.” You take hold of his face and squeeze. “No. No, I don’t want to stop. I wanna keep going. Wanna feel you. Need to feel you, Har.”

He lowers until he can press his forehead to yours and calm your jitters. “Okay. It’s okay. We can keep going. But only at your pace, all right?”

You wish you could see him. See his eyes. See the self-assuredness you know is there. The same self-assuredness that always manages to bring you back down after you’ve worked yourself up.

“Okay,” you whisper, kissing the tip of his nose.

He grips your hand. “Be my eyes. Only show me what you want me to see.”

It comes to you then. Hits you like a ton of bricks. Heavy and hard, the way it always does. 

You love him. Love him more than anything in the world. As more than your partner…but as your best friend.

Encouraged by a new rush of adrenaline, you take your interlocked fingers and bring them to your chest, allowing him to feel the way your nipples have hardened.

He exhales a shaky breath upon contact, taking control the moment you let go to knead your tit in his large palm before dipping down to lick along it. 

You gasp and arch up into his mouth, feeling more than settled now as he wraps his lips around you. 

He takes a moment to tug it with his teeth, gentle but firm enough to feed your pain kink. And you nearly sigh with contentment as he swirls his tongue around the pebbled skin, clearly indulging in you.

“My pretty girl,” he groans, hand running up the side of your ribcage until it can take hold of your other breast. “Tell me how good you look in my mouth. Tell me how pretty you look between my fingers.”

“Shit—Har, please.”

“Feel good, darling?” His voice is a salacious purr, meant to entice you, meant to ruin you. “Want you to tell me. Tell me how pretty you look.”

Your fingers move for the hairs at the nape of his neck, brushing against the fabric around his head. “Feels so good—”

“Uh-uh,” he warns, lifting up and taking his mouth from you. Leaving your chest cold and untouched. “Tell me.”

You whimper again and attempt to scoot closer. “Pretty,” you repeat quietly. “Always look pretty in your hand. Always look better when you touch me.”

He runs his tongue over his bottom lip, and you feel yourself clench when you see the plump, pink fibers glisten beneath the light of your lamp. 

“Good girl,” he whispers, allowing you to bring him close so you can kiss him, cursing when you nip at his mouth.

You take hold of his hand again and begin moving it down your body. Over the tender skin of your stomach and down toward your cunt.

He attempts to remain calm when he realizes where you’re leading him, but you can feel the pulsing in his wrist escalate the closer you get. 

“Bee,” he murmurs as you brush the tips of his fingers along your inner thighs. “You okay?”

“Yes,” you answer through an anxious pant. “Can’t wait any longer.”

“Fuck,” he seethes against your cheek when his touch ghosts over your swollen clit. “Feel so fucking good, lovie. Wanna see you so bad—”

“Mm-mm,” you argue, grasping onto his curls. “Not this time.”

“Bee—”

“Touch me,” you quickly mewl, licking a strip along his jaw. “God, Harry, please. Please touch me. Need you…need—”

He pinches the sensitive nerves until you gasp and choke on the rest of your plea. But you don’t even mind because the rush of euphoria that shoots through your veins like heroin is everything. Almost more than you can handle, and you buck up into his hand.

“That easy, hm?” he teases before his fingers run down you, desperate to dive through the arousal and coat himself in it. “Knew you were all worked up. You’ve been needy for days, darling. Haven’t you? Just needing me to make it better?”

He’s right. You’re always needy for him but especially on your period. The one week you refuse to let him touch you.

You’re beginning to wonder why.

“Gonna let me fuck you?” he asks, mouth ghosting across your ear until a shiver dances down your spine. “Gonna let me fuck the pain away? Make you feel good again?”

You nod, even though he can’t see you, and begin rolling your body in time with his ministrations. Hoping to grind against his fingers until you find that sweet relief.

He smirks. “Anxious?”

“Little bit,” you retort, scratching down his back. “Shit…please. Please, baby—”

“I know,” he coos, taking his fingers from your pussy to squeeze your thigh. “Gonna have to do it for me, okay? Take my cock and use it.”

You whimper as you reach for him, more than ready to feel him in your hand as you guide him closer to you.

You try not to think about what comes next. Try not to think about what it is you’re about to do, or what his cock might look like covered in your blood.

He twitches the moment your palm smooths along his shaft, face burying deep within your shoulder to brace himself. “Sorry…fuck, feel like it’s been forever.”

“I know,” you agree, nuzzling your cheek against his temple.

“Feels so much better now,” he whispers, lips brushing your skin as he speaks. “Feels…different, too. When I can’t see.”

You know exactly what he means, and you clench from the idea of what he must be experiencing right now.

Your fingers weave through his hair, and you tug until you can bring his head back out. Then, after releasing his cock, you smooth your thumbs over the blindfold, and lift up to place a kiss over each eye.

“Har?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

He grins so wide, you can see his two little bunny teeth. “I love you,” he repeats, nestling his face against your hand. “Now please let me fuck you.”

And who are you to argue?

You take hold of him once more while his hand smooths down your hip to help guide your legs further apart.

And after some shifting and shuffling, you pump him slowly, and line him up.

“Ready?” you whisper, a bit coarser than you had intended.

He nods, swollen lips parting in anticipation. “Yes. Always. Go, Bee. Let me feel you.”

The moment the head of his cock brushes through you, you both tense and stumble over some rather pornographic moans.

After all, it’s been quite a while since the last time (around two weeks…which for the two of you feels like a lifetime), and this merely proves why you should never wait so long again.

It’s full, and it’s good, and it’s comfortable. Much more comfortable than you anticipated, and you can’t help but glance down to watch as he disappears into you.

His hands fist the duvet beside your shoulders as sucks in a sharp breath through clenched teeth before suddenly driving in to the hilt, forcing your gasp. “Shit…sorry. Sorry, m’so fucking sorry. Couldn’t…couldn’t wait—”

“It’s okay,” you whimper, wiggling a bit to get adjusted. “It’s okay. Feels good.”

“Yeah?” For some reason, this makes the muscles in his stomach quiver as he rolls back. “God, lovie. So fucking tight today. Fucking hell…don’t know if I’m gonna last long.”

“It’s okay,” you repeat, fingers painting patterns down his spine. “Just go. Go, fuck me. Do whatever you want. Don’t care, just want you—”

He snaps forward once more, bottoming out as you cry out his name and arch from the bed.

“Shh,” he murmurs, lips burying into your hair. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. Talk to me, Bee. Be my eyes, come on. Tell me how good you look taking my cock. Tell me how fucking sweet your pretty little pussy treats me.”

Your mouth drops open in a silent whine as you wrap your arms around his neck and hike your leg around his hip. “So good, Har. Look so good inside me—”

“Shit.” His teeth graze your shoulder as he thrusts in again, doing his best to be gentle the way he promised, but losing the battle quickly. “Yeah? Like watching the way I stretch you?”

“Harry—”

“Oh, darling, you’re so wet. Fucking soaking me, aren’t you?”

You feel as though you are, but truth be told, you don’t want to look down and find out.

However, your silence breeds suspicion, and Harry’s hand blindly searches for your jaw until he can give it a quick squeeze.

“Bee,” he warns, in a low growl that makes your pulse skip. “Don’t do that. Don’t go quiet, don’t overthink.”

You whine a bit as your writhe beneath him, attempting to pull your face from his fingers. “Can’t help it—”

“Listen to me,” he hisses, pulling harder until you have no other choice but to go lax in his touch. “You feel so fucking good. All right? You have no fucking idea how good you feel right now. M’losing my goddamn mind. Don’t ever wanna stop fucking you—”

You can’t help but clench down until he’s lost the rest of his sentence, his hand dropping to your throat.

“Fucking devil,” he mumbles, working to create a faster rhythm as the room fills with steady whines, whimpers, and anxious gasps. Until the sound of him slipping in and out of your tight hole is echoing between the walls. Until everything is just him.

Soon, you don’t care about your period. About the possibility of a rather bloody mess or the idea that Harry will see you differently.

Soon, the only thing that matters is release. Is finding that end as the pleasure builds and builds like a tower of Jenga blocks in your stomach. Until it’s so tall, so heavy, so potent…you have no other choice but to let go.

His arm loops under your back, right near your hips while he tugs you up, needing a better angle as he continues to ruin you. And your body is pliable in his hands, nothing but jelly, meant to be tossed around like a toy.

“Give it to me,” he grunts, but there’s a certain plea beneath the virile command. Like he’s begging you to come on his cock, and your eyes roll back. “Fucking give it to me, Bee. Right now. Right fucking now—”

And you were already halfway there but then he reaches down your body, fingertips brushing against your clit, and you’re gone.

Toes curling, back arching, mind numbing. Your entire reality whittles down to him. And his cock, and his hands, and his come. The way it fills you not long after, painting your insides like a mural before leaking between your bodies. 

And it’s sticky, and the room is hot, and your bodies are covered in sweat. 

But it’s perfect.

Eventually, he reaches back for the knot behind his head, needing to see you. But you’re quick to stop him, guiding his arm back down until you can bury him against your chest and whisper, “Not yet. Just stay. Like this. Please.”

You can tell he wants to fight you. He loves seeing his come drip from your pussy, loves pushing it back in, loves licking it up.

But today, that’s out of the question, and when he realizes this, he sighs and allows his face to nuzzle into your neck.

You know he’ll need to regain his vision soon, but you don’t mind existing in this moment just a little while longer. You’d exist in every moment with him if you could, but you’ll settle for right here, right now.

“Bee?” he whispers, the sound of his loving nickname cutting through the quiet air.

“Hm?”

“Thank you.”

You smile so hard, the muscles in your cheek begin to ache. Your arms snake a bit tighter around his large body, squeezing him against your heart. “You’re silly.”

He grins.

A few minutes later, you make him a deal. You’ll lead him to the bathroom so you can both take a shower, and once you’re sure the evidence has been washed away, you’ll let him look.

He argues that this is a step beyond ridiculous and you argue that you’ll never fuck him again if he opens his eyes before you’re ready.

He gets quiet after that.

You both stumble a bit as you lead the blind man from the bed to the shower. You do your best not to survey the damage, but you catch a glimpse in your attempt at cleaning everything up. It’s not as bad as you anticipated. Your period has always seemed to mellow out whenever you’re lying horizontally. 

Honestly, you’re not really sure what logistics are involved with that premise, but today, you’re just grateful they are.

You keep your palm over his closed eyes as you both step under the stream of water. His eyelashes tickle your skin whenever he attempts to blink, and you giggle from the soft feel.

After a minute or two of letting the soap do its thing, you drop your arm, and return his sight.

Those sage green irises find you as he works to adjust to the world around him. He squints for the better part of a minute before he’s smiling and taking in your wary expression.

“What’s wrong?” he hums, stepping closer to sneak his wet hands around your hips. “See? It was fine.”

“I know.” Your voice is small, eyes trained on the tattoo painted across his chest. “I do feel kind of stupid for making us do all of that.”

“What?” He leans back, brow raised. “Bee…I know I was talking shit, but you know I didn’t mind.”

“I know, I just…people have period sex all the time. It’s not a big deal, you’re right—”

His head begins to shake zealously as he backs you up against the tile, forcing your attention on him. “No, no, no. Don’t do that. That’s what you needed to do, and I pushed you to do it in the first place. I told you, I will do whatever you want. Anything. Anytime.”

“I know, but—”

“No. Enough. I don’t wanna hear it.” He presses his forehead to yours for a second time this evening, and you feel your stomach clench. “Trust me. That was one of the hottest fucking things I’ve ever done. Not being able to see you almost killed me but everything else…god, I’ve never felt so overwhelmed by you.”

And for some reason, this vulnerable yet earnest confession creates a lump in your throat as you blink up at him.

“All I could hear, all I could touch, all I could taste…was just you,” he whispers, squeezing the skin on your waist to emphasize his point. “I would do that a hundred more times if that’s what you wanted.”

You whimper, blindsided by the sudden rush of emotions working their way to your waterline.

His strong hand moves for your cheek, cupping it sweetly as he presses a kiss beside your eye. “You can take my sight any day, Bee. As long as you promise to give it back. And let me see you again.”

You smile as a tear begins to slip down your skin, collecting in his palm before he wipes it away. “You know what you are?”

He presses his lips to your face one last time before leaning back. “What?”

Your eyes meet, and you grin.

“Silly.”

Yes I am perpetuating the idea that he could find it blindfolded 😗 BECAUSE HE COULD FIND IT BLINDFOLDED!!! Teach Me Harry could anyway and I will not be taking any questions or comments, thank you!!! (No I'm kidding but...he could)

Next Part:

~ Use Me*

Previous Part:

~ Watch Me*

- Full Teach Me Masterlist

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

Tags: (Since this is an extra, I have no idea if you guys want to be tagged in it, but if not, please let me know! And I will remove you promptly! But if you are okay with being on this list, then welcome back, I've missed you🥹💞)

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[lilyflowerstories]

A Veil Of White

Pairings: Sirius x Remus, Sirius x Reader, Wolfstar x Reader

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Warnings for the series: light violence, angst, light smut

Word Count: 3.6k

Synopsis: 15 years ago you fell through the veil. A little less than 15 years later, Sirius followed. He expected death. No one returned from the veil so that was the only logical conclusion. What he didn't expect was to meet you again.

This story was inspired by @ellecdc and her anon who had this absolutely stellar headcanon that you should read right here. I kind of ignored like half the idea in regards to pairing but it's a fresh spin, that's what we do around here babes.

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Remus thought it could never happen again. But magic was a strange thing. His memories seemed to flash by him in slow motion, starting with the day he graduated Hogwarts.

You weren’t posing for pictures with everyone else and your parents weren’t taking them for once. Instead, the three of you were far away from the marauders and the rest of your friends as you signed a contract. Remus — and the others, although they were trying to act like they weren’t — watched you finally sigh in relief. 

“Is it done?” Sirius asked. 

You nodded, holding up your version of the contract that freed Frank from all responsibilities regarding your very unplanned baby. He didn’t even have to pay any child support. Your family could more than afford it. What you and Frank wanted was a clean break away from each other. With the support of your friends, you were more confident about your decision. Still nervous, but confident. 

You clapped your brother on the shoulder. “Jamie, do me a favor and go elope or have a baby or something. Anything to make you the family disappointment again.” 

Everyone else smiled as James protested about ever being the family disappointment, only for Fleamont and Euphemia to inform him that he wasn’t a disappointment but he wasn’t the favorite child either. James crossed his arms. 

“How are we still counting Regulus? He ran away. That makes me at least the third favorite child… Is it running away if you go back to your original parents?” 

Fleamont shrugged. “He’ll be back. Let’s not make you upset by dropping the ranking when he does. Best to keep it as is.” 

Sirius, not caring that he wasn’t the first or second favorite on account of sneaking Moony in after curfew on multiple occasions, howled in laughter. He did it again when only two years later he was staring at another baby in a crib. This time James’ son. Sirius picked Harry up, propping him up on a single hip, and bringing him to the kitchen where everyone else was. 

“Moons, promise me that we aren’t adopting or getting anyone pregnant until we’re thirty.” 

“I’d love to make that promise, Pads, but clearly you Potters are cursed. Count your days before we end up with our own.” 

It was a joke. That was all it was ever meant to be. No one in the kitchen at Potter Manor ever predicted it coming true. Only a few weeks after that hangout, everyone abandoned the manor when the war suddenly ramped up. James, Lily, and Harry went into hiding. Regulus did come back, spending lots of nights painfully fighting with his brother about both of their regrets in how he left. He proved himself useful as a spy. Remus moved back in with his dad, towing Peter along, while his mum and Peter’s parents hid themselves in the muggle world. Your parents took your baby girl while you spent most of your days at Hogwarts as a teaching assistant, pretending to know nothing of your brother or the Order. 

You weren’t stupid though. James and Lily couldn’t bear you not being the Secret Keeper but they needed another one because of how obvious you were. You chose Peter. Sirius was too obvious, Remus wasn’t the best occlumency, and the girls were in the field too often to take the risk. Peter was unassuming. No one but your friend group noticed him. Death eaters would be the same way. 

None of you realized you had underestimated him. Honestly, no one really knows what happened. One minute, you were calling Remus for help as you tried to hold off Voldemort long enough for James and Lily to take Harry and run. The next minute all of them arrived just as you grabbed Harry while James grabbed Lily. You were more skilled in apparating. It was safer if you took Harry and met your brother and sister-in-law at your parents’ house. But you had to get a bit farther before you risked the death eaters being able to hold onto you.

They heard and saw the killing curse fired. They saw you turn to shield your nephew just as the curse hit you in the back. And they saw Harry drop from your arms as you fell into some veil at the same time the curse touched you. What they weren’t sure they saw was Voldemort suddenly disappearing or exploding or vanishing. No one really knew even to this day. 

Harry was fine. Maybe he didn’t drop but you set him down? Although, would you have time to when a killing curse was pretty instant? Your body was never recovered. It disappeared through the veil in Godric’s Hollow. The stone archway disappeared a few days later. They buried an empty casket at your funeral. 

Remus and Sirius took in your daughter, Lorelei, because the war was still going on even after Voldemort’s disappearance. Once it finally ended a few months later, no one had the heart to take her away from them. James and Lily gladly gave them custody. It wasn’t like Harry wouldn’t see his cousin nearly everyday anyway. They were all content and slowly healing for eleven calm years. 

And then Voldemort returned. Something they always anticipated after Regulus informed them of horcruxes but only got one and had yet to figure out how to destroy it. But while they had anticipated it back in the day, they started to forget over the years. And no matter what, they never expected the children to be directly involved. The children shouldn’t have to be involved. 

That’s what Remus thought as he stormed through the Department of Mysteries with the rest of the Order. He nearly froze in his place when he saw the veil. Of all places for it to end up, it had to be here right now. He didn’t understand it but magic was a strange thing. And when Sirius began to fall through the smoky white filling the archway, Remus could do nothing but stare as he held his daughter back from following her father and never returning. 

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Sirius felt the pain of the curse Bellatrix lobbed at him. But as quickly as the blinding pain happened, it went away. It was nice to know death was painless. And he was still conscious so maybe there was an afterlife after all. Sirius wasn’t sure but he couldn’t do anything at the moment. He couldn’t move his body at all. But he was moving somehow. Feeling slowly started to return to Sirius’ body and he realized he was starting to get soaked through with what he hoped was water. 

He stared up at the sky, waiting for more feeling to return, as he continued to float down the river. It was a beautiful day. Time must have worked the same in the afterlife because it was daytime when he entered the Department of Mysteries. He heard a gasp. Sirius closed his eyes as two hands struggled to lug him out of the water. His legs were still jelly that he couldn’t even help the figure take him all the way to wherever he was going. Maybe he should have been more concerned but he was already dead so what’s the worst that could happen. He was taken all the way inside a house. Or at least he thought it was a house. Eyes still closed, Sirius let himself be hauled up onto what definitely felt like couch cushions beneath him. 

“I haven’t had a guest in so long. I’ll go make some soup.” 

His eyes popped open at the sound. He recognized that voice. But that was impossible. The moment he regained feeling, Sirius sat up and practically ran to the kitchen where he heard humming. His hands reached out without thinking, turning you by the shoulders. 

“Y/N?” 

“Who? I call myself Gardenia.” You pointed out the window. “After the gardenias outside.” 

“No. You’re Y/N P— Y/N P… I’m Sirius Bl— Sirius Bl… Why can’t I remember my last name?” 

“It happens. You’re lucky I’m here. No one was around for me and when I passed out, I forgot everything except leaving the river. Almost forgot I could do magic until I just found this wand.” 

“When I pass out?” 

You nodded. “Should be happening soon. Don’t worry, I’ll remember your name.” 

“No, wait. You’re Y/N P— that’s not important. You’re Y/N… fuck, last name isn’t important. Okay and you disappeared on Halloween in…” 

Your eyes flitted down as the man in front of you passed out just like you said. At least you could remember two things for him. His name was Sirius. Yours was apparently Y/N. You liked that. It sounded nice. Setting a timer, you floated the man back to the couch now that you had your wand on you and returned to the soup. He lasted a while before fainting so he’d probably be out longer than you and most of your guests were.

A second timer went off just as you added the final ingredients to the soup. Your bread was finally finished proofing. Just in time for your new dinner guest. The real question was how long would Sirius be staying. The longest guest you had was a child who stayed with you for a few good years before you helped them get into Ilvermorny for their final two years of schooling. 

Something smelling like a warm hug woke Sirius up from his slumber. He slowly sat up, looking around at his unfamiliar surroundings. The very definition of cottage, complete with a fluffy cat in his lap and looking perturbed that he got up. Running a hand through his hair, he took a deep breath. 

“This is not what I thought the afterlife would look like.” 

A soft laugh caught his attention. 

You set down the perfectly crusted bread on a serving plate. “You’re not dead, Sirius.” 

“You know my name? I don’t even know my name.” 

“You told me before you fainted.” 

“What else did I tell you?” 

Sirius’ shoulders slumped when you told him that he was only able to mention his name. Groaning, he finally got to his feet. You pointed to a dresser with various sizes and styles of clothing for guests to choose from. Sirius tried his hardest to remember what would suit him but couldn’t for the life of him. He was sure that he didn’t dress like this smarmy aristocrat everyday and must’ve been in the middle of a dinner party when he died. That didn’t give him much style ideas to go off of. In the end, he chose a pair of corduroy trousers, a plain white t-shirt, and a sweater vest. 

He looked himself over in the mirror. The look didn’t fit him at all but it brought on an odd sort of comfort. Not wanting to mull it over much longer, he made his way to the dining table that separated the living room and kitchen. 

“So, how are you sure I’m not dead?” he asked as he began buttering the slice of bread he cut. 

You grabbed your wand and flicked on the radio. Sirius listened intently as the news played. You flicked on the tv in the living room to show a different news program. He still wasn’t convinced but agreed that if the news said tomorrow’s date in the morning then he would believe it. You led him to one of the guest bedrooms, telling him where everything was and that he should treat the place as his own while he’s here. 

Sirius went through all the rooms, except yours, picking clothes in each of the wardrobes and drawers that he thought would be nice for him. He returned to see a nice basket with new underwear and toiletries. They were generic so all guests could use them but Sirius appreciated the gesture nonetheless. You gently called his name. Turning, he saw you leaning against the doorway. 

“I have to go to the farmers market tomorrow, you’re welcome to tag along if you want.” 

He snorted. “There are farmers markets in the afterlife? Sure.” 

“Not the afterlife.” 

“I’ll believe it when I hear it.” 

“Goodnight, Sirius.” 

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It might have been petty but, when morning came, you turned the radio to its loudest volume. Humming to yourself, you began to pack up for the market. This wasn’t always your home after washing up the river. The river outside wasn’t even the same one. You had washed up some river in France. Unfortunately, the person that found you and had a similar set up as yours was out of town when you passed through the veil. If you had washed up two days later then maybe you would have had a chance to tell someone your name or any information. It was too late though. 

By the time Delacoeur found you passed out in her lavender bushes, you could only remember that you were a witch. It could have been worse. Delacoeur was an amazing mentor. She had been through the veil herself about twenty years ago. The old woman wasn’t the first to own what she loving called the hotel for forgetful and lost souls. By the time you were well enough to rest, you had renamed yourself several times, remembered you were British, and found yourself staying in a nice wizarding village just outside of Liverpool. 

Sirius stumbled out of bed, making his way into the kitchen. He quirked an eyebrow at your fluttering about. You motioned to the radio and he just sighed. 

“Fine, I’m not dead.” 

“Glad we’ve established that. Do you want to come to market with me?” 

“I thought you’d be buying,” he said as he began packing up the rest of your stuff. 

“I make money this way.” 

“Enough to afford all of this?” 

You nodded. “People love fresh produce and baked goods. Muggles, especially. They can’t get enough. Finish washing up, while I load these into the cart. Oh and if you need a refresher, I have loads of spell books on that shelf over there. Not everyone remembers everything they learned.” 

Sirius hadn’t really thought about magic. He grabbed a couple books and some inconspicuous dust jackets to put over them when he came back downstairs. You were already outside, loading up the last of the goods. It took everything in him not to laugh. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting but it certainly wasn’t a stand on wheels attached to the back of a multi person bicycle. 

“Usually it’s just me but the extra manpower is so helpful that I bought this bike awhile ago so I wouldn’t have to keep switching them in and out. You ready?” 

The ride to the market was peaceful, if not a bit silly to Sirius. But he enjoyed it somehow. You finally reached your destination well before any customers arrived. Sirius sat awkwardly on the stool you gave him while you set up. You were mingling with the other vendors, dancing to the music someone set up, and making sure your stand was perfect. It was pretty clear that you had some sort of well-established life. Hopefully, he could get to that point as well. 

“How many people have stayed with you before?” Sirius asked suddenly, watching you out of the corner of his eye as you handed a customer a box of croissants. 

“Hmm, depends on how you count it.” 

“Depends?” 

“There’s this old woman in France who has done this for years. She and her family have a hotel for people like us. Usually after I’ve made sure anyone I find is okay, I’ll give them her address.” 

“Well then, how many guests stay after they’ve been wellness-checked?” 

“Sixty.” 

“Sixty?” he nearly choked on his water. 

“I’ve been here for about fifteen years, you know. That’s only four guests a year.” 

Sirius nodded in satisfaction at that answer. It really wasn’t that many once you broke down the math. He asked many other questions throughout the day. If you were annoyed by any of them, you didn’t let it show. Everything was answered to the best of your ability and with a smile. The questions didn’t stop as you two packed up and cycled home. 

“I noticed a picture in the hallway. Do young kids come through the veil pretty often?” 

You shook your head. “I’ve only had a handful of them. Those break my heart the most, they’re always so scared at first. Everyone else chooses to live their new life. But Delacoeur and I try to help the kids get back if we can.” 

“Were you successful with the boy in the hallway?” 

“Sort of. Malcolm freaked out too much to even give me his name before fainting. We figured out that he was on vacation when he came through the veil which was why he ended up so far away from America. He was only twelve.” 

Sirius took the cash register inside for you. “Only twelve? That’s awful.” 

“It was the worst. He knew he was scheduled to go to Ilvermorny. Apparently he was homeschooled for first year. But because we didn’t know his real name and he hadn’t taken his pictures for school yet, we were stuck again. Malcolm decided to just go when he turned fourteen. He was a good kid, helped me at the market for extra money. He still writes every now and then. I went to his graduation two years ago. He has an internship at the MACUSA and is trying to find his parents.” 

You felt your shoulder grabbed before you could step further into the kitchen. Despite the protesting, Sirius made you sit at the table. You worked hard cooking for the market and then selling all those goods. The least he could do was make lunch. Hopefully. Blushing, he admitted that he couldn’t remember if he was a good cook. 

“Cookbooks are over there.” 

Sirius reached up to the floating shelf and grabbed a book with a bowl of French onion soup on the cover. He flipped through the pages with scrutiny, finally stopping at a recipe for fondant potatoes. 

“Does fondant potatoes and, er… soupe au pistou sound good?” 

You nodded, summoning a bottle of wine and two glasses. “Sounds perfect. If we’re going to have a French night we need good wine and music.” 

Sirius laughed as he opened the door of the pantry and started bringing out the necessary ingredients. Even though he didn’t really remember most of his life, conversation and stories still flowed easily between the two of you. You would mention something you sort of remembered from your past life and he would have a somewhat similar story he would tell. Neither one of you was able to come up with a complete tale or a story with full details but you two were having a good time nonetheless. It was like you were old friends. 

“We probably knew each other at school. Where did you attend? I can’t remember where I went.” 

“I never figured it out,” you said, shrugging. “Maybe Hogwarts but I washed up in France so maybe Beauxbatons or one of their smaller schools. I showed up with only three galleons in my pocket so the amount of schools I could’ve attended in this area could have been all of them. Wasn’t worth it to check after the first three schools turned up with no results.” 

“If I remember then we can see if we were classmates.” 

“Sounds like a plan.”  

You changed the radio to a station that you knew played French music to really set the tone. As Sirius put the final cut of vegetables in the soup, you summoned a chess set and a miniatures build you started working on the morning Sirius had arrived. One of the kids showed you some sets when you were staying at the hotel and it became a pretty fun hobby. You had gotten really good at them but the simple kits were often more enjoyable.

Under your breath, you began to sing along with the radio as you spread out the pieces for a miniature wand shop. Whenever you had too many miniatures, you’d sell them at market or give them away for free at the end of the day. You looked up when Sirius began singing as well. It seemed like he finally registered what he was doing just as he took the potatoes out of the oven.  

“I speak French? Merlin’s Beard, I know French.” A large smirk spread over his face as he turned to look at you. “Tu sais la français est une langue de la romance.” 

You snorted. “I hate to break it to you but I spent a good year and half in France. And while your flirting skills are impeccable, men in sweater vests aren’t my type. Especially when they’re drowning in it.” 

“Hey! Don’t diss the sweater vest. I feel oddly attached to it.” 

You took a bite of potatoes. “Keep cooking like this and I’ll never diss the sweater vest again.” 

“Deal.” 

Sirius sat down at the table, cracking his knuckles before finally pulling out his wand. A simple levitation spell was a good place to start. He beamed as the wine bottle lifted with no problem and poured into his glass. You lowered the radio a little, moving the chess set to the center of the table as Sirius placed the dishes on the side. The afternoon was peaceful as you two ate lunch, played chess, and toasted to this new or maybe old friendship.

| part 2 here |

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

In Love and War (8)

Summary: The aftermath of all her family secrets might be more chaotic than Reader bargained for when her powers suddenly start to flare. Good thing her Warlord has more than a few ideas how to help navigate it ;)

Content Warnings: Depressive thoughts, Reader mentions wanting to die; Suggestiveness, Slight SMUT; Canon Typical Violence

Author's Note: To make up for the last chapter being so short, please enjoy that flirty little bastard being a menace! ;)

Chapter 7/Masterlist

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

I don’t sleep at all that night. I lay there, Rhysand sleeping soundly beside me, exhausted from the events of the last couple of days. He’d barely kept his eyes open long enough to eat. I’d barely managed to choke down a few bites myself. The guilt has my stomach in a perpetual knot. I’ve dedicated so much of my life to hating this male, only to be wrong about all of it, and now I’m in too deep to even do anything about it.  I can’t go home. There is no home to go back to. My family slaughtered an innocent mother and daughter. Rhys received their heads in boxes like some sort of twisted gift. They were supposed to be allies and my father betrayed them in the worst possible way. He paid for it with his life, with my mother’s life; it should have been the end of it. Tamlin was given a mercy and he should have taken it. He should have abandoned my father’s teachings and become a better lord, a better man. Instead, he perpetuated the cycle of abuse and suffering. He encouraged me to hate these people, to covet everything they had as if they were undeserving of it. All these years I loathed our miserable existence thinking the Mother hated us and was being unjust in giving these people all these things that we were never allowed. But we deserved it! We were the bad guys all along.

I roll over onto my side to look at him. He still sleeps in his armor, knife still strapped to his thigh, sword resting against the tent pole only a foot away. He’s ready to be up and fighting in a moment's notice. Our father’s were so similar, and yet, he turned out to be merciful and kind and somehow, so startlingly gentle that I often forget he’s still capable of intense prowess. He is the only male I’ve ever truly felt comfortable with, because that gentleness came as a response to the violence he’d seen, not because that violence was never there. He’d felt the cold sting of it, and chose to be something gentle instead of returning it.

And here I am, with all that righteous anger that had kept me warm on my coldest days, choosing to return all the violence that had been inflicted on me onto others. Just as Tamlin did. Just as my father did. 

And looking at it I don’t want to be him. He ruined my mother! He took something good and kind and locked it away and used her for his own ends! I don’t even know if he ever really loved her. Why would you keep the things you love in a cage?

I sit up abruptly. Maybe he was as scared of being alone as I am. 

I can’t sit in this tent anymore! I can’t-

Rhysand jolts awake as soon as I move, hand twitching for his knife, shadows swirling off his body in response to what his sleep muddled mind thinks is a threat. “What’s wrong?”

I put a hand on his chest, spinning onto my knees so I can kiss his forehead. “Nothing, I just need to relieve myself.”

He lets me push him down onto the mat, body relaxing and pliant beneath my touch. “You sure?”

“Positive.” If he tried to follow me out now I think I really might explode. My stomach feels like it's ripping itself apart. My bones ache, my skin feels like it's stretched too tight over them. There is too much nervous energy bound inside my body. I just need to get out and stretch my legs; get some fresh air and clear my head. I will be fine if I can clear my head.

“Take your knife,” he says, eyes already drifting shut again. 

I strap it to my thigh as I slip from the tent, gulping down lungfuls of crisp, mountain air as I go. I just need to clear my head. Is finding a way to survive this fucked up world really me acting like my father? I’ve never killed innocent people. I’ve never withheld necessities or lorded my power over people. I’m just not being honest about my intentions. It’s shitty. I’m using a mating bond I’m still not wholly sure is real as a means to getting food and shelter and, hopefully, a decent helping of mind blowing sex.

Cauldron that sounds really, really fucked up.

But how am I supposed to tell him? Hey, I know that you really don’t like my family and they’ve done nothing but screw you over but I also accepted your offer to try and ruin your life and take all of your land and kinda only just changed my mind about it yesterday. And it would be really super cool if you just let that slide because I have nowhere else to go.

That would go over soooooo well. He’d be totally fine with it! 

I ground my palms into my eyes as I walk behind a couple trees to at least make it look like I really did need to go pee. There are men on guard duty, no doubt someone is going to see me wandering around camp.

My brain feels like it’s being squeezed by my skull. There has to be a way to go about this that doesn’t get me tossed out into the coming snow, while also not lying so deeply about it. I do care about him. It was a lie at first but now…

I put my back against the tree and slide down until I’m sitting on the rocky ground, head still in my hands. I don’t know if he’s my mate. There’s something there, I feel it pulling at me, even now, but I can’t give it a name. And I want to be here. Not just because of the story he’d told yesterday. When Lucien tried to get me to leave, I really didn’t want to go back with him. But how am I supposed to live with the truth? How am I supposed to look at him and see that he wants this so much more than I do, despite everything?

Actually, why does he want this, despite everything? He’d asked me why I stayed. I never asked him why he brought me here. There’s certainly enough bad blood between our families to make even a mate hesitate to bring me in.

I lean back against the tree, the rough scrape of the bark against my aching skin a relief. My body feels so strange, being around Rhysand’s magic has made it feel like there’s something beneath my skin.

Tomorrow, in the morning, I will ask him why he still brought me back. Then I will decide what to do. 

------

He certainly doesn’t make asking him easy. Rhys wakes me up with his lips on my throat, along the fading marks he’d left a couple days before,  trailing them down as his hands hike up my sweater. The heat of him against the early morning chill has my resolve slipping, all my plans slipping through my fingers as he runs his tongue over my peaked nipples.

I can’t think past the roaring in my ears; the ache in my body for more, more, more. There is nothing and no one but him as he trails lower, each kiss more forceful than the last as he heads for the waistband of my pants.

“Rhys,” I moan, voice still thick with sleep, even as my body arches under him. I want him everywhere. I need him everywhere. The stirring feeling beneath my skin is worse today, only quelled by the trail of his hands on my body. For once, my racing thoughts are quiet. If only we could stay like this. 

“Hmmm,” he hums into my stomach, just beneath my navel. There’s a bit of stubble along his jaw, the scrape of it against my oversensitive skin makes my eyes roll back into my head. “Did you want something, mate?”

“You,” I groan, hand reaching out to tangle in his hair to try and move him where I need him. 

He grins, I can feel the upturn of his lips against my stomach, but he refuses to budge. Just nips at the skin visible above my waistline. “You have me.”

Bastard! My whole body trembles beneath him. I can’t get a breath down fast enough. I need him everywhere all at once. “Need you inside me,” I bite out.

He simply hums again, hands tugging at my waistband with an inhumane slowness that makes me feel like I’m going to burst out of my skin. I use the hand not in his hair to grip the mat, trying to ground myself, trying to find some semblance of control again. I’m gripping so tight my bones ache, fingers feeling like they’re breaking. There’s a tearing sound, a pricking sensation in my palm and then a gush of something wet across my hand. 

Even he looks up at that, and when I turn to look, I’m more than a little surprised to find that I’ve grown claws, and I’ve just tore them right through my hand!

“Shit!” He’s gone from between my legs in an instant, all the heat in my body leaving with him. 

I can’t unfurl my hand. Can’t retract the claws, they’re stuck through my palm with my fist closed around it. I’ve only ever grown them in anger, how the hell had I done it now?

Rhysand comes back with a towel as I manage to sit up. “I thought you smelled different this morning,” he muses.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I hiss.

“Our magic can be protective. It can hide itself if it doesn’t feel safe. I don’t think you were born with too little, I think you were born with too much.” His fingers massage my wrist, trying to find the right pressure points to help me unclench my fist. “I think that it buried itself inside you to keep you safe. And I think, now that you’re here, it’s manifesting, and like the wards, it has its own scent.”

Fan-fucking-tastic!

“Well I’d like it to un-manifest,” I hiss. “I was doing just fine without it!” There’s blood dripping through the towel, if anything it feels like my claws are burrowing deeper into my palm. I can practically feel them trying to tear right through the back of my hand.

He can’t seem to find the right spot and trying to pry my fingers out of my palm is a no go. He frowns, lifting the towel for a better look. “I’m gonna try something.”

I’m prepared for a blow from his own magic, some form of glittering starlight or shadowy darkness, I am not prepared for him to kiss me again. The sound I make in surprise is somewhere between a growl and a gasp because what the hell is he doing? But even though my head is struggling to catch up, my body is not. On instinct, I lean back to allow him better access, his tongue slipping behind my teeth. The rolling feeling beneath my skin lessens, the tightness in my palm slowly releasing. I thread my functioning hand through his hair as my body gives what I can only describe as a sigh of relief. A moment later, the claws retract and I can finally unfurl my fist.

“Flair ups can be heavily tied to your emotions,” he says, lips barely off mine. “Probably wasn’t the best idea to tease you in the middle of one.” 

It takes him all of thirty seconds to find some rags and tie up my hand, even though the blood flow is already lessening. All I can do is stare at it while he does it. This is certainly a new and unwelcome development to this whole mess.

“Is that going to keep happening?”

Azriel pops his head into our tent, unannounced as usual. “Are you two done in here or what? I, personally, cannot live with Cassian if he beats us around the mountain.”

“We’ll be right there,” Rhysand huffs.

“I’m seeing a trend with him,” I mutter. 

He smirks, “It’s one of Azriel’s many charms.” 

He helps me to my feet, holding onto me like he thinks something else might just burst out of my skin. Truth be told, I can still feel something shifting around, a prowling animal begging to be released from its cage. I’d thought it was my unease this whole time, but maybe it’s worse than that. 

“We don’t know how deep your power well is,” Rhysand says. “And if it’s never fully manifested…” He blows out a breath. “When mine first started manifesting, I shredded a whole section of camp with starlight. There was a whole twenty-four hour period where my shadows blocked out the sun. And you’re my equal so, yes I think that will keep happening.”

Cauldron boil me!

“As long as you remain calm, it shouldn’t be too bad.”

“I should think you would know better than to tell a female to be calm, Rhysand.”

He grins, “Well you can also spend the day making out with me, since that seems to be such a lovely little distraction with you.”

I go to hiss an insult at him but the only thing that comes out is an actual, animal-like growl. I clamp a hand over my mouth in embarrassment while he bursts out laughing. 

“This is going to be fun!” He declares.

I am not at all inclined to agree.

----

I only manage to ride with him for an hour or two before the pull of his magic makes my skin start to itch. He was right about magic having a scent. Half way through the hour I suddenly become very aware of the jasmine scent of him. It’s everywhere. In every breath. Every brush of his chest against my back, every movement of his hands along the reins. My body is hyper aware of every place we do and don’t touch.

“Getting all worked up again, aren’t we?” He purrs in my ear.

My jaw feels like it’s snapping as a set of fangs tear through my gums, spurting blood into my mouth. Somehow his magic is the catalyst for my transformation and the balm all in one. I can’t be near him and I can’t be away from him, as I soon learn. When I jump off the horse and declare I’m going to walk beside him, my claws return, in both hands this time. At least they shoot out my nail beds and not my knuckles like Tamlin’s.

The thought of him makes another growl rumble through my chest and something that feels suspiciously like fur sprouts from the back of my neck.

“Wouldn’t recommend,” Rhysand warns.

The itchiness of my skin is even worse on the ground. I feel the wards tugging at me like I’ve been tied to the glittering magic that builds them with a string.  The jasmine and overripe fruit scent of them is enough to make my nose crinkle. Apparently the transformation heightens my senses as well.

“I’m gonna tear off my skin,” I snarl, fidgeting with my collar. Why is it so itchy? Is it supposed to be like this?

He slows his mount to keep pace with me and I do not miss the grumbled complaints of the males behind us. My ears twitch every time one of them speaks, the sound sometimes like a shout and others like a far off echo.

“Breathe,” he says gently. “The more worked up you get, the worse it will be until we can find a way to safely expel it.”

I draw a shaky breath, then another. 

“Good girl.”

A shiver works its way up my spine at that.

“Now come here,” he leans so far out of the saddle he’s only holding on with his thighs, and my first thought is how we can get this little caravan to pause so I can be the one beneath him. He gets an arm around my waist and hauls me back up onto the horse and damn if that’s not the hottest thing I’ve ever seen a male do!

“Let’s get these wards up-” I’m hyper-aware how every word rumbles through his chest, the way his body shifts on the horse. “-And we’ll find a place to camp soon enough, then you and I can work on this.”

“Make it stop,” I gently beg. “I don’t want it!” The itch beneath my skin is becoming unbearable! My claws scratch up my arms, tearing up my sweater. 

His free hand covers mine, intertwining our fingers, even as the horse begins to move. “Focus on me.”

I focus my attention on the way his body molds against mine. The way the leather of his glove slides over the back of my hand. I let my eyes drift shut, focusing on the brush of his chest against mine, the swaying motion of his hips as the horse moves over the rocky terrain. It’s not enough. Not like the feel of his lips on mine had been this morning. As if he knows it, he drops his head against my shoulder, nose brushing over the exposed skin of my throat. 

“I’m right here,” he continues. “Focus on me, just like you did this morning.”

This morning there had been a lot less clothes between us. 

“Breathe for me.”

It is a physical effort to draw a deep enough breath in; another to pull my claws away from my itching skin. He settles our joined hands against my stomach. 

“Again.”

I manage to do what I am told, just barely. 

“Good. Just like that.” His voice makes a shiver run down my spine as my mind spins with all the other things I want him to talk me through. I think I could do just about anything if he explained it to me in that rich, husky voice he was using in my ear. “Part of learning to control it is finding your center. Find a safe mental space to retreat to.”

“Like what?” There are few places in the world I have ever felt safe. Thinking about how I used to sit in the rocking chair with my mother and listen to her stories only fills me with pain now. Or perhaps a couple weeks ago I might have thought about all those summers I spent at the creek with Lucien, but now it only makes the thing beneath my skin rumble and shake like there’s some sort of animal that lives caged beneath my ribs and is trying desperately to break free. What makes me feel safe?

“A good memory, a happy time,” he lists. 

I have nothing. My eyes start to water and my throat starts to close, talons growing longer and sharper at my fingertips. I feel the give of my leather chest-piece beneath them. Everything good in my life has been a lie! Everyone that was supposed to protect me only ever hurt me in the end. None of it was ever real.

And this, this thing that could be something, that could be real, I had ruined it. I have to lie to keep it. I have to pretend that I had every right to hurt him, when it was really the other way around. The only person who had ever told me the truth, who could see me for what I was, and I had ruined any chance of it being real before it had even had the chance to start.

A sob slips out of me and with it, the tree we pass erupts in a flurry of leaves and twisting, screaming bark that makes the horse rear. The earth rumbles, random cracks splitting in the rock face, gnarled vines crawling out of them like tentacled monsters. The itching in my skin won’t stop! The more I try to trap it the more the world around us screams in protest. 

“Breathe, Y/N,” Rhysand orders in my ear. “You have to breathe.”

“I can’t!” I choke out. 

He slides his hand out of mine and brings it up against the side of my temple. It feels like a shadow unfurling from his fingertips, but the brush of it is not against my face, but inside my skull. Darkness clouds my vision from the inside out. It feels as if my brain is being emptied, piece by piece with shadows until there is nothing inside my mind but him. 

“Breathe,” he commands, the voice of a Warlord. “Now.”

I choke on each breath. 

“You are safe, Y/N,” he says, gentler. There is nothing in the world but the two of us in this dark little bubble. Nothing but the press of night chilled jasmine and calming, all consuming night. From somewhere far off, I hear music on the wind, the swell of stringed instruments pulling my attention away from the itch running beneath my skin.

“Why is this happening?” My body feels so impossibly small, yet like it’s being stretched beyond its capacity, my bones trying to tear through the confines of my skin all the same.

“Our powers can very easily get tangled with our emotions,” he explains, the hand on my temple drawing shapes into my skin. Somehow, after looking at the stitches in the tent walls, I know he’s spelling something out in Illyrian, but I’ll never know what. “The last twenty-four hours have been a lot for you, I’m sure.”

There is no room to think about it in this headspace, no twisted memories to plague me, only the music and the faint twinkle of stars for company. I let myself fall into it, let it swallow me and fill me until I feel disconnected from the pulling of my skin.

“I don’t want this power,” I whisper into the darkness.

The darkness caresses me, wraps itself around me as surely as his arm around my waist. “I know, but we don’t get a say in what we’re given, only what we do with it.”

When have I ever truly had a say in anything?

“What if I hurt somebody?” What if I am just as bad as my father in both intentions and power? If I am capable of plotting to ruin someone’s life based on a lie, how much more capable am I of turning these claws on someone else? Maybe power is passed from my mother, but that will never change the fact that I now carry the same weapons that were used to scar me, and Rhys, and probably his mother and sister. 

“You won’t,” he assures. “I’ll be right here to teach you. You can control it.”

He has far more faith in me than he should.

----

Once we’ve stopped for the night and camp is set up, Rhysand takes me by the hand and leads me out into the empty, grassy plains beneath the mountain. The knee-high yellow blades are brittle this time of year, cracking under our boots as we walk until only the smoke from the campfires pinpoints where we left the others. We’re far enough away that I won’t hurt anyone if I lose control again.

Shame flushes my cheeks. I’ve always prided myself on being the calm one of the family; always able to keep my emotions shoved deep down beneath the surface to keep them from getting the better of me. I thought I was good at it. I was wrong. It’s only been the constant brush of Rhysand’s shadows against my mind all afternoon that have kept me from tearing everything I touch to shreds. Even now, my hands ache from often my new claws have sprung and retracted from my fingertips.

I must feel about as awful as Rhysand looks. The circles under his eyes have not lessened in the slightest, and every once in a while I’ll see him start to sway, like it’s an effort to stay on his feet. The scent of his magic has lessened, the night blooming jasmine fading behind the citrus and salty scent of him. He shouldn’t be out here with me, he should be resting, recharging his own magic so he can be prepared for more warding tomorrow. According to Azriel and the scouts’ reports, we should meet up with Cassian and Mor’s group by this time tomorrow and Rhysand will need all his energy to ensure both ends of the wards are fully meshed together. 

We stop once we’re cushioned between two large hills, nothing but the chirp of crickets and the stars to keep us company. The Mountain looms dark and shadowy beneath the small sliver of the moon. 

“This looks like a good place,” he says as he finally releases my hand.

I keep my lower lip between my teeth, hands shaking at my sides. I don’t want to do this! Entertaining the idea that I have powers to train and use is foolish. I don’t need to learn to use them; I need to learn to shove them back down into the darkest parts of me where they can’t hurt anybody. 

“Let’s start with something simple,” he suggests. “Tell me where you feel your power the most.”

My hand comes up to poke between my rib cage, where the stirring and itchy feeling is the most concentrated. “Feels like something is trying to break out of my skin,” I say softly.

“The claws and the fangs could be a beast form,” he muses. “Or it could just be some shape-shifting powers you inherited from your father?”

The mention of that bastard makes the stirring in my chest feel like a tidal wave, raw energy crackling so hard and fast through my veins that I feel it crest out my fingertips. The grass around me withers and dies, the ground beneath it crackling and rumbling with what feels like the early stages of an earthquake. I can’t have powers like my fathers!

There is no shortage of pity in those violet eyes and I press my palms into my eyes with a groan. I can’t do this! It needs to stop! I need to bury it now before it runs away with me; while I still have some control over it. Because if it goes any further than this…

Maybe Tamlin was right to send me away. Maybe he did know about my powers and that was why he got rid of me. I couldn’t hurt anybody if I was alone in the woods.

Rhysands shadows drift along the floor until they can slither up my calves, rubbing affectionately against me in a way that reminds me of a cat. “It’s ok,” he soothes.

Tears stream down my cheeks. “Make it stop!” I beg. “Show me how to bury it again.”

His shadows trail higher, winding over my hips and waist, even as he steps closer, leaving barely a breath between us. “Y/N…” he shakes his head, trying to find the right words and I feel a strange pang beneath the movement in my chest.

“Please,” I whimper. “I’ll do anything! Just make it stop.”

He cups my cheek and I give myself the briefest moment to fall into the warmth of his touch.  “I know it’s scary, and that it hurts, but this is good. It has to be released. You will die if you don’t.”

Then let me. The words freeze on my tongue when a tendril of his power flicks over his shoulder, down his wrist, to brush against my cheek, but that doesn’t stop the spiraling of my thoughts. Let me be free of this pain. Let me go out before I become a monster like my father. Let that awful bastard be right; let me be useless and worthless and incapable of doing anything he could be proud of. 

As if spurred on by my thoughts, the grass around me continues to wither, until there’s a whole circle of dead earth surrounding me. The harder I try to draw it in, the wider the circle becomes. Power sizzle through my nerve endings, a fire that digs itself into my veins and when I curl my hands into fists to try and stop it, I pull weeds through the cracks in the earth, the gnarled, leafy branches reaching up like skeletal hands that wrap around my, and Rhysand’s ankles.

“Focus on that spot,” his free hand taps gently against my ribs. “Focus until it feels like you’re holding it.”

I try to imagine the power like a bowl filled with sloshing, dark liquid. I imagine myself reaching for the lip of the bowl, the cracked edges and rough wood a mirror to the one that used to sit on our kitchen table, full of apples I’d sneak when no one was looking. If I make it familiar, it feels easier to focus on. I imagine every crack in the bowl, every worn edge, focusing until I get a mental hold around the edges. Now all I need to do is tip the bowl over. If I spill out its contents, there will be nothing left inside me to unleash… right?

“Once you can hold it, focus on containing it. Imagine it like a bottle, get all that energy into the bottle, and put a lid on the top,” Rhys says like he can hear my plans.

The liquid inside the bowl bubbles and hisses as my conflicted feelings run circles through my head. He hasn’t been wrong this far, I should do as he says, but I can’t help but feel like indulging this is a mistake. I can hear my father’s voice inside my head, telling me that this is not how females are supposed to behave. 

I can feel the weeds I’d summoned dying around me. Can feel every blade of grass as if it was somehow attached to my skin. The longer I hold that imaginary bowl, the more aware of this power I become, but it doesn’t feel like control. It just feels like more things pulling at me, trying to move me in directions I’ve never decided I want to go in. 

The ground rumbles beneath my boots again as my mental grip slips, and when I open my eyes the weeds, dead as they are now, have slithered all the way up my chest, reaching for my throat like some decrypt hand. 

The air leaves my lungs in a rush and with it, the dead vegetation crumbles and turns to dust on the wind.

Rhysand should be looking at me like I’m a monster. He should be stepping away, shadows swirling, that giant sword in hand. We are supposed to be enemies and he should be looking at me like I am one. But he’s not. He reaches out and brushes some of the ruined plant off my shoulder instead.

“It’s ok,” he assures. “No one gets it on their first try. Not even me.”

That compassion and understanding makes my chest ache worse than any restless power ever has. I don’t deserve it. I wish he would treat me like the horrible creature I am. He would be better off if he tossed me out into the woods like Tam.

He stiffens and I can’t help but wonder if I accidentally said that out loud because his eyes darken as he closes the gap between us and takes my face in his hands. “Maybe I’m taking the wrong approach.” His voice is clipped, husky. 

Good, maybe he can finally see me for what I really am.

I am wholly unprepared for him to crash his lips against mine. My brain short circuits, the agitation I feel morphing into that desperate, needy thing I had felt this morning. Just as I tilt my head back, lips parting to let him in, he pulls back. 

“Let’s play a game.”

The power in my chest feels like it’s going to rip out of my skin again. 

“Match what I do and you’ll get a reward,” he explains. “If you can’t…” He takes a step back and it is an effort not to chase after him, but the message is clear enough: Matching his efforts means his hands, his lips, his body is on me again, fail to do so, and he puts space between us. It shouldn’t work. It shouldn’t make me want to try, but I do. Gods I do! 

“Ok,” my voice shakes a little. In the back of my mind I still think it’s a bad idea. Maybe I will regret it in the end, but this thing between us is the only thing that makes sense. There is nothing between us when his lips are on mine. I need that distraction tonight.

He holds out a hand and a ball of shadows emerge, the tendrils of darkness crawling out from beneath his skin to form the swirling shape. “Find that spot in your chest and push it into your hand. It’s a part of you, it answers to you. Make it answer to you.”

I hold out my hand, matching his position and then close my eyes, reaching for that bowl of darkness again. Hesitantly, I tip it sideways, sloshing some of the dark liquid over the edge and imagine pulling it through my limbs. It makes my muscles spasm, my claws shooting out of my nail beds in defense.

“Breathe through it, you’ll pass out if you hold your breath.” 

Selfishly, I want to impress him. Want to show him I can. I want the reward of his lips on mine again. Want to not have to think about whether I should be doing this or that, the only thought in my head him and how good he feels. I do as he says, drawing in a breath as I keep pushing that bit of darkness in the direction I want it. It makes my head hurt, trying to focus so intently, but I’m nothing if not persistent. 

I feel the rumble of movement beneath my palm, and just when I’m starting to think that maybe I’m more capable than I thought, the tiniest, most wilted looking dandelion grows from my palm. And then immediately turns to ash. It’s the saddest excuse for power I’ve ever seen and I growl out a complaint like a literal beast as even the thing in my chest shows its disappointment.

Rhysand snorts out a laugh too, which makes it worse.

So much for powerful. 

He clears his throat as he steps back into my space. “It was a good attempt.”

“Don’t patronize me,” I hiss. “That was embarrassing.” 

He wraps his hand around my wrist and places his lips against my palm anyway, never mind that my claws are still out and drifting over his temple as he kisses right where my powers flared. “You still tried.”

I shiver at the contact of his plush lips against my skin, his breath warm against my palm. My senses are still incredibly heightened and even that bit of contact makes my skin buzz with excitement. 

He quirks a dark brow as he looks at me from where my hand is still pressed against his lips. “Try again for me?”

I nod, not trusting my voice when he’s looking at me like he wants to devour me. His pupils are blown wide, barely a ring of violet left to see. He keeps his lower lip between his perfect teeth as he watches me with an intensity that makes my thighs clench. 

Just like before, I imagine myself holding that bowl, this time, I draw a breath and tip it over, letting more of that strange darkness spill into the abyss that is my soul. It is strange to see it like this, to have some parts of it so clear and yet the rest of it is shrouded in fathomless depths. There might be anything living within the confines of my skin. I’d never bothered to look until now. 

I push it towards my fingertips, just as before. The same spasm in my muscles returns, a knot forming in my bicep that I do my best to ignore as I keep pushing my power towards my hand. I remind myself to breathe when it flares in my wrist, making my claws retract and pop back out. 

“Just like that,” Rhysand coaxes.

Cauldron his voice makes my insides feel like jelly. 

Crawling vines emerge one by one from beneath my palms, twining around my fingertips like tiny snakes. In the center sprouts another dandelion, a little taller than the last. I manage to hold it for all of five seconds before the knot in my bicep and wrist become too much and the vines and flower die together. My bones ache. How does he do this so easily?

“Better,” Rhysand praises as he places the next kiss on the inside of my wrist, his fingers massaging the knot forming there. 

“Is it supposed to hurt?” I grumble.

“It’s a process,” he murmurs into my skin, lips trailing higher, causing a shiver to run down my spine. “Think of it like building a muscle. The first couple days of using that muscle will hurt. You’ll be sore. But the more you build it, the stronger it becomes, and the less it hurts. Eventually, you’ll be able to perform bigger and bigger feats with less and less discomfort.” 

That sounds exhausting! 

I’m going to have to do this for the rest of my life? The thought sours my mood, once again turning my thoughts away from this lovely little distraction he’s been offering and back into the darkness that’s been threatening to overtake me all afternoon. 

I swear he can hear the thoughts spinning through my head as he suddenly nips at the tender flesh of the inside of my wrist. “You think you can give me one more?”

I have a headache just thinking about doing it again, but he keeps looking at me through those long lashes, the intensity in his gaze making all rational thought fly out the window. 

“I’ll make it worth your while,” he promises, lips trailing higher. He’s so warm and intoxicating, I think he might be capable of making me do anything, as long as his lips remain on my skin.

I focus on that spot, paying extra attention to breathe as I reach for that imaginary bowl a third time. Maybe if I let myself relax, lean a little heavier into the warmth of his touch, and stop trying so hard to hold on so tight, it won't hurt so bad. It has been like fighting a tide all this time; if I relax, go with the wave, will that make it easier?

I imagine that darkness spilling from the bowl like water instead, letting it flow like a river. The path from my chest to my fingertips is kind of like a stream, right? The water bubbling and rushing through me. There must be something to that thought process, because, when I open my eyes, there are more vines twining around my fingers and wrist, but this time, tiny yellow and pink flowers bloom from them. There is nothing dead or angry crawling out from beneath my skin, but something beautiful and alive. My claws retract as the vines spin around my fingers.

I can’t help but grin as I look to Rhys for his approval. “I did it!”

He grins right back, the sight so dazzling I think I might just stand here for hours summoning flower after flower to see it again. “That’s my girl!”

Instinctively, spurred by the excitement rushing through my veins, I stretch up on my toes and place a quick kiss on his lips. “You’re a good teacher,” and I mean it. Whatever this is between us, I am grateful for him, even if this is all we have. “Thank you.”

He slides a hand in my hair and kisses me back. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

I don’t know what it is I feel about it. It still feels wrong, or maybe it just feels different. Everything feels different these days, I’d rather not think too long about it. “Feels like I can breathe a little easier.” 

“Good.” He kisses me again. “We’ll practice some more tomorrow.”

I slide my hand into the silky strands of his hair, nails scraping lightly over his scalp as he rests his forehead on mine. I won’t let myself think about tomorrow, or about these new powers. There can only be this moment.

“Just promise me,” he continues, “that you’ll keep trying?”

“I might need some convincing,” I return, clinging to this distraction with every last bit of willpower I possess.

He grins at the challenge. This is the best I can give him today; the closest to the truth I can admit without laying everything bare. 

“I can be very persuasive,” he purrs and the next thing I know I am on my back in what’s left of the grass, the solid weight of him on top of me. “Maybe we should work on some self-defense while we’re at it. That was alarmingly easy.”

“The words every girl wants to hear when she’s beneath a man,” I retort.

“I just want you to be safe, is all,” he says as he kisses the tip of my nose. 

I reach up a hand and brush some of the hair that’s falling over his forehead into his eyes out of the way. He is breathtakingly beautiful under the moonlight. I wish I could paint or sketch, immortalize every glorious sharp edge of him in ink and paper. “I’m with you, how can I not be safe?”

Cauldron boil me, I mean that too.

It’s not until later that night, long after I’d fallen apart on his tongue in that field and then tumbled back into camp, nearly asleep on my feet to nestle down against his warm body that I remembered I’d meant to ask him this morning why he’d still let me in after everything between us. By now I’m too exhausted to care; maybe I’ll find the courage to ask in the morning.

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

Taglist:

@judig92 / @randomperson1234sblog /@nyxbranwenn /@lilah-asteria / @barb00235

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@landofpetrichor / @hjgdhghoe / @buttermilktea11 / @yourforeveryoungblog / @sassyn

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@zoeisdreaming6 / @minnieoo / @girl-math-aint-mathing / @raisam / @inloveallthetime

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@blessthepizzaman / @bxtchopolis / @erencvlt / @mylittle-flower-loves

Thank you all for being so patient with this update! As always, let me know if you want to be added to the taglist :)

[thewhumpcaretaker]

🩶 Exposure Therapy as Whump 🩶

Exposure therapy is a practice used to treat phobias, PTSD, OCD, and other mental illnesses. The patient is exposed to their triggers, usually starting with easier ones and moving up to harder ones once they’re comfortable with each trigger, until nothing about the phobia/event/obsession bothers them anymore. Since I’ve been through exposure therapy, I thought I’d use my experiences to write some prompts! I want to note that exposure therapy doesn’t have to feel overwhelmingly distressing. It’s intended to associate formerly scary things with positive, grounded feelings, so it’s actually not so bad if it’s done correctly.  BUT if it’s done wrong, well…

TW: bad therapy practices, rocky recovery

Whumpee jumps ahead to a more difficult level of exposure. Maybe a whumpee with a fear of heights decided to go straight to the top of a tall building instead of just starting with their balcony, for example. They immediately panic and regret it.

Whumpee backslides in their progress and becomes frustrated with themself.

Whumpee punishes themself when they can’t get calm enough or can’t get to the next level of exposure. Of course, this only makes the whole process more stressful.

Whumpee comes out of an exposure session while still feeling emotionally raw and has to go straight into a stressful situation afterwards. They feel nervous and shaky - maybe on a stage or at a presentation or a confrontation with whumper.

There’s no time to let whumpee slowly overcome the fear, because they’ll have to face the real thing tomorrow in some high-stakes crisis. So they just expose themself to the scary thing (or images/video of it) as much as possible, all night, until they feel totally desensitized and numb. <- Fun fact: this is called “flooding”

Caretaker is trying to keep whumpee calm during exposure sessions - teaching them grounding techniques, breathing, etc. - but whumpee won’t cooperate. They want to hold onto the fear because they don’t know who they’d be without it.

Whumpee feels invaded by exposure therapy. Trying to not be scared feels like a betrayal of their own emotions. It makes them resent Caretaker.

Whumper is the one in charge of whumpee’s exposure therapy. They make it as difficult as possible by intentionally pushing whumpee too far, punishing them when they struggle, or making them feel more unsafe.

The fear is conditioned away, but whumpee is left with anger and sadness in its place. This is especially good for PTSD scenarios. They’re no longer scared of whumper, but still angry and lost. It’s almost worse. 

[kingofpopmj]

hii. can you please do an imagine, where michael in his mature era (aka: mac daddy mike), has a naive soon to be wife, and she doesn't know ANYTHING about sexy times, so Michael decides to teach her. Please and ty

Oooo hunni! You guys keep summoning Naughty Nevaeh lol

Here you go! I hope you enjoy.. 🙈

Let Me Fill You With My Dreams

Michael and I had finally arrived home after a long day full of appearances. It was unlike anything I’d ever experienced before. The hysteria that follows Michael wherever he goes is unfathomable, yet he handles it with such grace. Usually, we keep a safe distance at public events, I appear more so as apart of his entourage than his partner, but it’s how we planned it. However, that was all in the past, now that I’m his fiancée we decided I’d be by his side. We were more than ready. As always he was extremely protective of me and made sure I felt safe. We announced our engagement only a few days prior. Michael and I were elated, the media on the other hand was relentless, I was labeled a gold digger, Michael was attacked and mocked— nothing too out of the norm, which pissed me off to no end, but he insisted I bite my tongue. He ensured me that he could handle it. It was tough to say the least. The noise surrounding us was so hateful— so loud and they were all rooting against us. It was infuriating. Unfortunately, as much as I tried to ignore the noise, it successfully added fuel to the flames of my own insecurities and I had no idea how to come clean to Michael, but it had to happen and soon.

“Baby?” I heard Michael’s voice, along with his footsteps nearing his— our bedroom— where I was currently hiding. “There you are! What’s wrong?”

“Hi. Nothing. Nothing” I answered quickly.

“You haven’t been yourself all day. I know these events can be draining. The crowds of people, the bright lights and the screaming. It’s a lot to get used to. If you don’t like them I promise I won’t force you to attend. I’ll understand. It won’t upset me.” The concerned look on his face made the knot in my stomach tighten. “Are you having doubts? Do you not want to get married?” My heart ached at the pain evident in his voice.

“No! Michael, of course not. I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“I’m sorry. I know I wasn’t the best date tonight.” I tried to ease my way into this conversation.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No. It’s just last night—”

“I knew it. I’m sorry if I did too much. I was trying to be spontaneous you know? I completely understand if you want to wait until our wedding night. No matter what it’ll be perfect.”

“It’s not that I want to wait.”

“Talk to me.” He whispered with pleading eyes.

“I’m— I’ve never really— I don’t—” I began stuttering, unable to complete a sentence, my hands trembling as I tried desperately not to hyperventilate.

“Woah. Okay, breathe. Baby, it’s okay. Everything is okay.” Michael wrapped his arms around me, leaving a kiss on my forehead and began to sing to me softly.

Every night she walks right in my dreams

Since I met her from the start

I'm so proud I am the only one

Who is special in her heart

The girl is mine

“Keep going.” I smiled into his chest, loving the sound of his voice.

“Baby, if you wanted me to sing for you, all you had to do was ask.”

“You’re so annoying.” I playfully rolled my eyes, moving to sit on the bed.

“I’ll keep going if—” he paused dramatically, putting his hand in the air. “You tell me what’s on your mind. You can talk to me about anything.”

“I’m nervous about going further because—” I drifted off, feeling overwhelming embarrassment. “I’m a virgin.” I said barely above a whisper.

The only clue I was given that Michael heard my confession was how his grip on my hand loosened before pulling away all together. This was just what I was afraid of, he’s going to leave me.

“I should’ve told you sooner. I’m sorry Michael. I understand if—” I couldn’t bring myself to finish the sentence, so instead I slowly twisted the engagement ring off my finger, trying to fight the tears that threatened to fall as I reached my hand out to return the ring to Michael.

“No. No. I don’t want it back. No. Baby, it belongs right here.” He spoke softly, he sat down next to me as he slid the ring back onto my finger. “Thank you for telling me. I’m sorry if I pressured you. It wasn’t my intention.”

“I don’t feel pressured. I want to. I want to be with you. I just— I’m terrified of disappointing you.”

“You could never disappoint me.” Michael moved closer to me, pulling me into his chest. “I love you so much.”

Suddenly, I didn’t feel afraid, with the weight of my confession finally off my shoulders, I was able to feel something else. Love. Desire. Yearning. Craving. It was all I could feel and I couldn’t help myself— I couldn’t wait any longer. I looked up at him, his beautiful chocolate brown eyes staring back at me. I grasped at his collar with my fingers, pulling him into me, desperately needing him as close as possible. He kissed me back, his hands finding the small of my back, holding me tenderly. I moved into his lap, straddling him as our kiss intensified. I began to unbutton his shirt, before I heard Michael’s voice.

“Slow down.” He gently took my hands into his. “Baby, we don’t have to do this right now. I’ll wait as long as you need. You’re more than worth the wait.”

“All I need is you. Right now. I’m ready.”

“Are you positive?”

“Yes, just maybe talk me through it? Teach me a thing or two? I really want you to enjoy it.”

“Baby, I’m already enjoying it.” He smiled, gesturing to the erection poking into my inner thigh. “Just call me Professor Jackson.” He said, with a flirtation wink.

“You’re making me blush!” I giggled, burying my face in his neck. “I’m trying to be serious! Sexy even..”

“You’re always sexy. You don’t have to try.” He spoke lowly, picking me up, laying me back on the bed as he placed himself between my legs. “Oh, I can do serious.”

“Michael!” I yelped, feeling his warm hand slipping underneath my dress, moving up my thigh teasingly.

“Relax. Let me teach you.”

“Please. Teach me.” I begged, the anticipation building as his hand hovered between my legs, fiddling with the lace of my panties. Michael kneeled down in front of me, causing the air to get stuck in my lungs.

“Do you trust me?” He whispered, his breath tickling my thigh. I was desperate for more.

“Yes.”

“Yes what?” He asked, looking deep into my eyes, his long fingers slipped underneath the lace, his touch sending a shiver throughout my body.

“I trust you, Professor Jackson.”

“Oh, that sounds so much better coming out of your beautiful mouth.” He smirked, kissing me and quite literally taking my breath away. He ripped off the lace that covered my modesty, this side of Michael was quickly becoming my favorite.

I felt an overwhelming urge to scream as Michael began moving his fingers in a circular motion. My breathing becoming unsteady, struggling to process the pleasure I was feeling for the very first time.

“It’s all about touch.” He whispered. “It comes naturally once you stop overthinking.” His pace increasing as he spoke. “When two people are as connected as you and I— every kiss, every touch, everything feels— amplified.”

“Michael! Michael!” My body shaking, falling back into the mattress, suddenly I didn’t feel his fingers anymore. I felt something else— something even better. I slowly glanced down, seeing the top of Michael’s head, his face buried between my legs. The sight alone was enough to drive me crazy. I could feel his tongue, the way it curved, the way it moved, the way it sent shocks of electricity through me. My back arched, unintentionally thrusting my hips forward, locking my leg around the back of his neck. I began to curse profusely, feeling his hand slowly travel up under the fabric of my dress, the skin to skin contact made me shiver as he took a firm hold of my breast.

“Oh! My!” I felt a build up in my core, gripping the comforter tightly, attempting to ground myself, but there was no use. My thighs clenched around Michael’s head as a sound fell from my lips— one I didn’t know I was capable of.

“Just breathe.” I heard his voice, as his fingers slid the straps of my dress down my arms. He leaned down kissing and sucking down my neck. I squeezed my eyes shut. “I got you.”

“Please—” I pleaded between my gasps for air. I had no idea what I wanted. I just knew I didn’t want this to end. Not yet.

“I’m going to try something first.” Michael said before I felt his lips on my nipple. “How does that feel?”

“So good.”

“Open.” Michael murmured, gently tapping my knees. I did as I was told, watching as he removed his pants, taking a place in between my legs.

“Is it going to hurt?” I said quietly.

“I’d never hurt you.” He grabbed my arms, placing them above my head and intertwined our fingers. “I’ll go slow.”

As he looked into my eyes, the sensation of him entering me ignited a flutter in my chest, tears of pleasure puddled my eyes and I squeezed his hands so tight I began losing feeling in my fingers. Once he was fully buried inside of me he made gentle movements by rotating his hips in small circles. The tingle that raced through me was indescribable. I never knew that this feeling existed, but now that I do, I was sure that the reason was because subconsciously I was waiting for Michael.

“Michael!” I cried, ripping one hand free, tightly gripping his shoulder, digging my finger nails into his skin.

“Y/N, baby, you have to loosen up.” He said sweetly, unwrapping my legs that were locked around him. “Now, I can do this.” He started carefully moving in and out of me. As great as it felt I craved more. “How does that feel?”

“God. I love that.”

“I have an idea.” Michael said, moving away from me, I frowned, ready to protest until he laid on his back pulling me on top of him.

“What are you doing?” I panicked, at the extreme withdrawal and our new position.

“Teaching.” He smirked. “You’re going to learn how to ride me.” He said so seductively it gave me goosebumps.

“What if I hurt you?”

“You won’t. Just follow my instructions. All you have to do is—” He guided my hips with his hands, explaining what I had to do, but I couldn’t hear a thing. I was to focused on wanting him inside of me again. As he spoke I slowly spread my legs, coming closer to him until I felt his tip. The rush it gave me was so intense, my knees slid further across the silk comforter and I felt our full connection again. Michael’s eyes widen at my speed, he briefly glanced down, admiring how I took him whole. “Oh god!”

“Oh crap! Did I hurt you?” I panicked.

“No. No. It feels amazing. I just— wow. You’re a fast learner.”

“Well, I have a great teacher.” I slowly began to move my hips, watching Michael bite his bottom lip, his hands squeezing my thighs firmly.

“Baby. You’re gonna make me—”

“Make you what?” I questioned, slowing my pace, waiting for his answer. “Am I doing this wrong?” I felt my cheeks heat up from embarrassment as I stopped my movements all together.

“Don’t stop!” He moaned loudly. Holy shit. That was so hot. I began moving my hips like my life depended on it. Michael had beads of sweat on his forehead and his chest was glistening. “Baby, I’m gonna— I’m almost—”

“Michael!” I begged, Michael pulled me down onto his chest as I felt him twitch inside of me.

“You feel so perfect.” He purred in my ear as we lay still for a few seconds before Michael excitedly propped himself up on his elbows. He rolled us over, so he was now looking down at me. I laid against the mattress with a confused look on my face.

“We’re gonna be here all night.�� He finally spoke as he touched my lips with his.

“Well, I do have more to learn. If you’re interested in teaching into after school hours.” I teased, wrapping my legs around his hips.

“Your wish is my command.” He declared, kissing me sweetly before he started up again, his quick pace taking me by surprise.

The wooden bed frame shrieked against the floor boards with each thrust. Our kiss becoming sloppy, needy even. Everything felt so intense. I couldn’t catch my breath, but I didn’t care. As long as Michael stayed on top of me, beneath me— inside me, I didn’t care about anything else. It’s just us.

“Amazing.” I breathed out, working up the courage to speak. “Can I— can I try to use my mouth?” I asked nervously, staring straight up at the ceiling. Michael slowed down, dragging his finger along my jawline, forcing me look into his eyes.

“Baby, you can do whatever you want to me.”

[the-angeleno]

gekko x female reader where like basically finds her super attractive and is nervous to talk to her so reader starts to think he doesn’t like her since hes so social w the other agents I hope that kinda makes sense?? Also hes so bbg<33

FIRST IMPRESSIONS! gekko x f!reader ✴ fluff!! no warnings!

[note!!] ↳ i apologize for taking so long with requests, i was just overwhelmed and flooded with so many and then uni got super chaotic but we made it! merry christmas / happy holidays!

mateo’s introduction to the protocol went as smooth as being introduced to by reyna could go. he’s not sure exactly what she said to get him in, as it seemed to be pretty exclusive and he’s not entirely sure if he has the professionalism they were looking for. 

he doesn’t, but they don’t seem to mind. well, brimstone has complained here and there about how difficult the boy was to reach, he never answered his phone or replied to his texts but the motherfucker was always on tiktok whenever the protocol held meetings.

he got away with a lot by practically being reyna’s little brother, everyone was too scared to do anything to reprimand the boy. other than viper of course, nothing scared that woman it seemed.

being one of the younger agents, and the newest, left him anxious, but as time went on, he’s gotten his own seat at the table. he knew what the first day jitters felt like, how everything was intimidating, and he had already known reyna prior and she still kind of scares him so he can’t imagine how intimidating the woman would be to you. 

brim asked beforehand if anyone wanted to step up and show you the ropes, before gekko even had the chance to volunteer, almost every head in the room turned to him anyway.

“i’d be honored.” he bowed dramatically, turning to harbor, “i’ll make you proud coach!”

he didn’t. not because he was a bad coach necessarily, he just couldn’t get a proper sentence out without bumbling like a fool. 

the new agent was really pretty, and mateo’s had crushes before in the past but nothing like this, where the moment he looked at her he felt the carpet pull out from under him.

nobody else seemed affected by your beauty, even chamber seemed too occupied with his work to ogle at you. the knowing looks from jett and phoenix only made him more flustered as he knew his attraction to you was written all over his face.

neon and raze were stifling laughter, watching his sad attempt at demonstrating how to defuse a spike. 

“s-so yeah um .. after y’know c-clearing corners and stuff you uh… um usually brim will c-comm? yeah he’ll comm us  uh let us know the game plan.” he clears his throat, looking down at his hands and shaking his head in an attempt to clear out his thoughts. 

you watched him with such a kind expression on your face, it was almost a little infuriating how good you were at maintaining eye contact with him, mateo feels like he might die of heatstroke with how hot his face has become. 

you notice how nervous he is and hesitantly reach for him, placing your hand on his shoulder.

“hey i know we just met and all, but i promise i'm not gonna kill you…” an awkward laugh accompanied your words, and you couldn’t hide some of the hurt in your voice. why was he so terrified of you? “i’m not! scared of you or anything-“

“did i do something that made you uncomfortable?”

“no! nothing like that you’re just uh..” he looks around the room, relieved when he sees the others seemed to have moved on from watching his horrible teaching skills. 

he glances at his critters, dizzy curled up as always in slumber, wingman on the couch waving his arms excitedly in support of his train of thoughts.

he breathes deeply, before finally meeting eyes with you. 

“you’re just really pretty.” he says, without stuttering, or losing eye contact, and the intensity of it all leaves a red hot flush to climb up your neck and up to your cheeks.

“o-oh.” you stutter, mind going a mile a minute because what the fuck do you even say to that? you just met him, but you can’t deny how attractive he is too. you bite back a smile and look down in embarrassment.

“thank you… that’s sweet of you to say.” 

“yeah but i just made things weird.”

“no you didn’t, things don’t have to be weird if we don’t make it weird.” you reassure, nudging his shoulder.

“now you said something about brim giving comms, do we wait for an OK before defusing or should we defuse as soon as we reach the site?”

he was grateful for the change in topic, and with that finally off his chest he was able to finally get his wavering voice back under control.

“yeah so he’ll comm with the OK; if everything is clear and it’s safe to defuse then go for it and regroup before evacuating.”

your first mission goes surprisingly well, gekko at your side through the whole thing, watching your back with every corner you turned and alerting you of enemies you missed before taking care of them himself.

he was the perfect partner anyone could ask for really, so when the other agents were hyping you up for your performance you couldn’t help but redirect the praise to mateo.

every mission went on like that, a success, the two of you made an incredible team. it wasn’t until six months later, on one of the biggest missions you’ve yet to go on, that you really showed the other agents in the protocol just how much you’ve grown.

“that quick scope was insane even reyna was impressed!” phoenix says over the sound of his comrades whooping and cheering you on.

“who knew our new agent would be our new little prodigy?” jett cooed, pinching at your cheeks. you swat her hand away, laughing at her teasing.

“nah it was all gekko and really i wouldn’t have gotten off that shot without dizzy and the spike wouldn’t have been defused without wingman. i just have the best coach, right ‘teo?” you turn to look at him and he grins, throwing an arm over your shoulder and pulling you into a side hug.

“of course hermosa, with me showing you the ropes you’ll kick everyone’s ass, radiant or not.”

his little compliment left you flustered, quick to hide your face into his neck, before feeling the vibrations of his laughter rumbling against his chest. he tilts his head down to peek at you,

“why’re you hidin’ chica?” he smirks knowingly, you were always so easy to fluster, it was incredibly endearing.

he pouts his lips out in a kissy face, laughing when you groan and roll your eyes at him.

the other agents watch silently as the two of you, almost in your own world, tease and bicker with each other back and forth, mateo’s arms still wrapped around your waist.

“i dunno why i let you take all the glory for our missions, i’m gonna stop being humble-“

“you? humble? chalè chica have you met yourself?” his words are all bark no bite, if the grin on his face was any indication.

you stuck your tongue out at him, and he sticks his right back, blowing a raspberry in your face and laughing when you yell and swat at him for spitting on you.

jett and neon share a knowing look, they bet on how long it’d take for the two of you to get together, and neon couldn’t hide the smirk on her face.

“not too late to forfeit~”

“no way, they’ve been dancing around each other like this for months im telling you they’re both too dumb to do anything for at least another two months-“

“yea like how it took you and phoenix two years to finally confess to each other?” she teased before quickly ducking the fist jett sent her way.

“wish someone would look at me like that.” chamber mutters, glancing over at viper who whistles absently, busying herself with some papers on her desk that suddenly need to be reorganized.

“can you let me go now?” you whined at him, giving him your most promising pout, he tilted his head in faux consideration, before shrugging, 

“nah. don’t want to.” 

“so you’re just gonna hold me hostage here?”

“don’t act like you don’t love it.”

“i don’t, you spat on me.” 

“okay and you drooled on me on the way back to base-“

“shut up! you were the one who insisted i slept on your shoulder-“

“yeah because i didn’t wanna deal with you whining later about your neck hurting-“

“teo, let me go so i can punch you.”

“no can do, hermosa.”

“i’ll knee you in the balls.”

he pouts again, debating if he should free you from his embrace, before he gets the chance to, you lean forward on your tiptoes and plant an obnoxious smooch on his lips, prying yourself free from him when he loosens his grip in surprise.

“HA!” you laugh maniacally, running away from the boy who was already chasing you,

“oh so that’s how you’re gonna play huh?” he yells, ignoring brimstone who is shouting at the two of you to stop running around HQ.

“did you not just see what she did!” he whines like a child, glaring at neon and jett who are trying to stifle their laughter to no avail.

you run and hide behind raze and killjoy on the couch, catching your breath, you peek your head over and spot mateo,

“you’re harboring a criminal, release her.” he declares to the couple, and raze rises, holding her arms out in front of you, blocking you away from gekko.

“you gotta get through me first.” she stands firm, winking at killjoy who only rolls her eyes at the idiocy happening before her.

“can you guys take this fight back to the playground please?” she asks, turning over on the couch to look down at you. you hold your finger to your lips, a dramatic sh! the only response offered to her.

she tries to flick your forehead but you are quick to swat her hand away, earning a snort from the engineer before she turns to sit forward on the couch. 

“what are her crimes even?” killjoy asks and you feel your face burning before mateo even opens his mouth. 

“i was holding her hostage in a hug and she kissed me to escape-“ 

“oh god gross-“ raze’s arms falter.

“are you two fucking serious?” neon says in fake disgust.

“ew guys get a room-“ killjoy remarks with a loud groan.

“GROSS!” chamber shouts from across the room.

with you defenseless, mateo is quick to dive over the couch, grabbing you and throwing you over his shoulder in one fell swoop.

he ignores your shouts and demands to be put down as he carries you away to an empty meeting room, closing the door behind him with his foot before setting you down with a mischievous smirk on his face. 

“look at the scene you caused, mensa. now everyone knows about your dirty little tricks.” he had you pushed up against the door, his face incredibly close to yours, and you were suddenly grateful he had carried you off like that, away from the eyes of your comrades who probably have an idea of what’s going on back here anyways.

the close proximity leaves you flustered, but the competitive side of you can’t seem to back down to mateo.

“didn’t expect you to get so worked up over a little kiss, you got a crush on me or something?” you teased, sounding more confident than you actually felt.

he leans closer, lips nearly touching yours before gliding upwards and caressing the shell of your ear. 

“maybe i do, but the thing is cariño…” his lips trail down your cheek, stopping right over yours, “i think you like me too.” he breathes a laugh against you and it sets you aflame, your heart pounding incessantly in your chest. 

“should i kiss you this time and find out?” his lips are centimeters away from your own, his hands that are now cupping your jaw tilt your head upwards to brush against his lips, a gasp slipping past them to which he chuckles amusedly at. 

the anticipation of his touch practically eating you alive at this point, how desperate you are to feel his lips against yours again.. you swallow, biting back your pride before nodding, 

“please… ‘teo-“

his lips are against yours in an instant, eager and passionate, moving with a desperation you hadn’t anticipated. you reach up to pull him closer by the neck, kissing him back with just as much passion and fervor.

he bites down on your lip, smirking against you when you whine and open up for him, he’s quick to use the opportunity to slip his tongue in to taste you properly.

sweet like saccharine, he couldn’t get enough, the feeling of your tongues intertwined has him dizzy, his brain short-circuiting.

he can’t believe he’s finally kissing you, finally tasting the lips he’s been craving since the day he first laid eyes on them. 

you whine his name, muffled in between kisses as he sucks particularly hard on your tongue, leaving you breathless and desperate for air. 

prying the boy off of you, you finally manage to catch your breath, panting harshly against him as he smirks at you.

“yeah you definitely like me, ‘please teo!’ he mocks and you hide your face in his neck, groaning and punching him lightly on the chest.

“you’re such an ass mateo."

[note!!] ↳ this might be ass, ngl i wrote it high on my phone at like 2am, i think the second half with all the other agents is kinda wild n messy but so is mateo so shhh. - feel free to send in more reqs!!

[sp-by-april]

🐓💙🐣 😍⚡ ?

(pls pc stan save me I AM ON MY HANDS AND KNEES BEGGING also i say male reader but can reader have a cunt please 💔)

PC!Stan x FTM!Reader, Breeding kink and age gap with a side of rough! Order up! 💙

PC!Stan x FTM!Reader

[Stan Marsh Master List] [Order at the Smut Cafe!]

South Park Community College was a slog… But a few things made it bearable. The chicken strips in the cafeteria. My study group. My music teacher. God, I could stay at his hands all day. I did stare at his hands all day.

I was day dreaming about those very hands when I bumped into Mr. Marsh right outside of Tweek Bros. I blinked as his eyes scanned over me.

“You’re in my class.” He finally said, “The quiet guy in the back row…” “Uh. Yeah.” I nodded a little too eagerly.

We caught up a little and I was surprised when he invited me over to his house. At first, I thought he was just trying to be nice, but he seemed a little insistent so, what the hell right?

I told him I’d meet him there after I finished my errands.

When I finally got to his place, my heart was pounding in my chest like a jackhammer.

“He was just being nice,” I told myself for the fiftieth time.

When he opened the door and invited me in, I must have looked as nervous and fucked up as I felt because the first thing he did was put a tumbler of whiskey in my hand. I was still only 20, but it felt rude to turn down a free drink.

I sipped from my glass as he sat down on his couch. I tried to take in my surroundings. Lots of wood furnishings, a nice fireplace, a fancy bar adjacent to the kitchen, and a few framed records hanging on the opposite wall with some guitar stands.

All in all, it felt very... Grown up.

“Not what you expected?” He asked before bringing his glass back to his mouth.

And then of course, all I could think about was kissing him. I swiftly finished my drink and set the tumbler on the coffee table instead.

“Nothing about you is, Mr. Marsh,” I said before my brain could censor itself, “It’s just… How did you end up teaching at SPCC?”

“I wanted the extra cash,” He chuckled as he sat his glass next to mine, “Plus, I get to meet a lot of interesting students. Like cute guys that sit in the back row. And cute guys can call me Stan,”

I don’t know if it was the liquor in my empty stomach or the fact I was practically living out one of my favorite fantasies but something in me snapped.

I kissed him – Hard. It was all tongue and passion, like I was trying to pour every bit of longing into his mouth. And he avidly accepted it.

“You’re impatient,” Stan nipped at my bottom lip, “I like that,”

He pushed down on my shoulders until my head was on the armrest and then he quickly unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans. He pushed them and my boxers down to my thighs and I thought I heard his breath hitched as he looked at me.

His fingers traced my wet slit teasingly before he grabbed onto my jeans again, sliding them down until they slipped off over my ankles.

“Be a good boy and sit still, so I can fuck you full.” Stan said, unbuckling his belt.

God, when he unveiled his cock, my jaw dropped.

He was big, and thick with a pretty bead of precum I wanted to lick right up. He didn’t give me a chance, though. One minute I was gawking at his gorgeous dick, the next he was rubbing himself up against my cunt.

“Be a good boy and sit still, so I can fuck you full,” Stan groaned before pushing right in.

My back arched as I tried to get used the sheer fucking size, but I didn’t have time to adjust before he starting thrusting hard and fast.

I tried to brace myself against the couch but his big, calloused hands held on tight to my hips as he pumped into me again and again.

Just when I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, his hands grabbed onto my legs, pushing them up to my chest. The new angle had each drag of his cock hit my g-spot perfectly and had me seeing stars.

He ghosted a kiss over my ear and his hot breath seeped into my skin as he spoke, “I’m gonna cum in you over and over, until you’re fucking gushing with it,”

Apparently that was all it took to completely undo me. Every muscle in my body tensed up like a drawn bow and I moaned so loud, I think the windows rattled.

The walls of my cunt held onto his cock like it was the only thing tethering me to the Earth as my orgasm crashed into me like a tsunami and I could hear muttered curses from him in my ear.

Suddenly, Stan’s hips jerked up into me with a growl, and I winced from the pain. He groaned loudly as his cock pulsed intensely, pumping spurt after spurt of cum into me.

I panted as he laid on top of me, my head beginning to clear as the haze of my climax began to clear. I fucked the teacher of a random class I was taking for an easy credit. What the hell was wrong with me?

But before I could start to really spiral, he kissed me again and none of it mattered. Especially after what he said next:

“Don’t worry, we’re not done yet. We’re not stopping until you’re filled and bred.”

[beestriker015]

Katara x male earthbender s/o

When Katara and her brother Sokka left the South Pole to begin traveling the world with Aang, the young Avatar who’s been frozen in ice for a hundred years, romance wasn’t on her mind in the slightest, but that started to change after meeting a handsome earthbender named s/o.

Katara met s/o in the city of Omashu following their encounter with King Bumi, who insisted that the young man join the Avatar and his friends on their travels.

“Aang, if you’re gonna master the four elements, you will need an earthbending teacher, and I think s/o here will make a perfect one for you.”

He says as s/o steps forward and introduces himself to the group.

“I would love to join you guys if you’ll have me. I’d just like to apologize for everything his majesty put you through, he can be a bit….zany sometimes.”

“It’s fine s/o. My name’s Katara by the way.”

The two benders exchange friendly smiles as s/o then becomes part of the group.

While it didn’t take long for s/o to become friends with Aang and Sokka, he became especially close to Katara, eventually leading to him being confronted by the beautiful waterbender’s brother.

“Ok s/o, what’s up with you and my sister?”

“What do you mean Sokka?”

“Don’t play dumb! You two have gotten awfully close, and I’m not sure I like it. What are your intentions with her?!”

He demands as s/o doesn’t take him too seriously.

“Intentions? Sokka, Katara and I are friends. Nothing more. So just relax ok?”

“Alright, just know if you do try anything funny with her, I have a boomerang with your name on it mister!”

He walks away, but not before giving s/o the ‘I’ve got my eye on you’ hand gesture, causing the earthbender to chuckle softly.

“Sokka’s being silly, Katara’s my closet friend, I can’t possibly have feelings for her….can I?”

The more he think about it, the more s/o realizes that he may actually have feelings for Katara, causing a faint blush to appear on his face.

Meanwhile, Katara has already been aware of how she feels about s/o, and decides that she’s gonna confess to him when the right moment comes, which ends up being not long after Toph joins up with them and becomes Aang’s new earthbending teacher.

“S/o, is something wrong?”

Katara asks him one night after noticing how bummed he’s been lately.

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just…the reason King Bumi let me come with you and the others was to teach Aang earthbending, but with Toph taking over that role, I feel…kinda useless now.”

“But you’re not useless s/o, you’re our friend, and we’re happy to have met you. I’m happy to have met you.”

She says as both of them blush before Katara decides that it’s time to confess.

“Hey s/o? I’ve been wanting to tell you something. I…I like you, as in…more than a friend.”

“R-really Katara? Because I like you in that way too. Will you…be my girlfriend?”

He asks as she smiles and kisses him on the cheek.

“I’d love that s/o.”

And with that, the two are officially a couple.

Both of them were nervous to tell the other that they’re together, but everyone was super supportive, even Sokka, much to their surprise.

“I had a gut feeling you two would end up together, but remember s/o, treat my sister right or face the wrath of my trusty boomerang.”

“Heheh, duly noted Sokka. You have my word that I’d never do anything to hurt her.”

Dates are difficult since they’re constantly going from place to place, but Katara and s/o do spend time together shopping for supplies whenever the group stops at a nearby village, otherwise they’re snuggling right up against each other while riding on Appa.

Jealousy is practically nonexistent due to how deeply Katara and s/o care for each other, but can get annoyed when one of them gets flirted with by a local.

“I can’t believe those girls were ogling you right in front of me. Couldn’t they tell that I’m your girlfriend?”

She asks with a huff as s/o wraps his arms around her.

“I guess not, though I couldn’t care less because the only girl my heart belongs to is you Katara.”

For several days after being taught bloodbending by Hama, Katara has been having nightmares due to being traumatized by the ordeal, to which her boyfriend is always there to comfort her.

“Hey hey, it’s gonna be okay Katara. I’m right here for you.”

“It haunts me s/o. Never in my life did I imagine waterbending could be used in such a horrific way! I…I hate it!”

She begins sobbing as s/o is quick to embrace her.

“I know. You’re a good person Katara, and you’d never use would never use that bending on another person.”

(Besides the commander of the Southern Raiders of course, but I can forgive her for that considering the circumstances.)

Being calmed by her boyfriend’s reassurance, Katara sinks into his embrace as she holds him close for the rest of the night.

When it comes to fighting, s/o and Katara always have each other’s backs and work extremely well together.

“Katara! Look out!”

S/o shouts before sending a boulder flying at a Fire Nation soldier who was about ready to attack her.”

“Oh! Thanks for the save s/o!”

“No problem! That makes us even after how you healed my burns from when I fought Zuko last time.”

Upon Katara and Sokka being reunited with their father Hakoda, s/o was beyond nervous when his girlfriend told him that he wants to meet him.

“There’s nothing to worry about s/o. Sokka and I told dad everything about you. He’ll love you.”

“W-well, if you say so Katara.”

Despite being quite intimidated by his girlfriend’s father at first, s/o became relived when Hakoda greeted him with a smile.

“So you’re the guy my daughter’s been dating huh? I’ve heard a lot of great things about you from my kids, it’s nice to meet you s/o.”

“Thank you sir, and it’s an honor to meet you as well.”

When s/o and the gang sneak into the Fire Nation and acquire new clothing in order to blend in, he can’t help but blush when he sees his girlfriend’s outfit.

“How do I look s/o? Do you like it?”

She asks him teasingly as his blush deepens.

“Y-yeah, you look absolutely beautiful Katara.”

He says, causing her to blush now in response.

“T-thank you s/o, you look really good yourself.”

Now that they’re both blushing, their friends can’t help but snicker at the couple, much to their embarrassment.

Things between Katara and s/o continue to be great until after the Firelord is defeated, when Katara suddenly realizes something.

“Where do we go from here s/o?”

She asks him as he looks at her questioningly.

“What do you mean Katara?”

“Since Aang defeated Firelord Ozai, I plan on going back home with Sokka to the South Pole to be with my dad while you’ll be returning to Omashu right? I…I don’t want us to be apart s/o.”

“Neither do I, which is why I’m going with you.”

“Y-you are?”

She looks at her boyfriend in surprise as he smiles.

“Yep. King Bumi and my parents gave me their blessing, so now you’re stuck with me.”

He jokes as she proceeds to hug him tightly.

“This is great! I love you s/o.”

“I love you too Katara.”

The two smile lovingly at each other and kiss, with Katara extremely happy to be with her earthbender s/o.