#haven’t sat down and read every submission yet

[fagbearentertainment]

Any pokemon submissions? (Besides the obvious jessiejames)

Sylveon got a few, trans Pikachu got one, and I think N got 3 or 4

[sylvia-forest]

[CN] Shaw's Dual Cultivation Pact Date - Part 1

⚡Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a Date which hasn’t been released in EN yet!⚡

[Released Date: 4 August 2024]

[Section 1]

Mayor: To be honest, we really shouldn’t bother you with such trivial matters… Mayor: If the fairy hadn't set up a large formation here to protect our town over the years, I'm afraid this area would have been trampled by demons…

The old man in front of me complimented me endlessly, but at the critical moment, he hesitated to speak and kept looking at my face.

Looking at his submissive look, I felt a little funny, so I lazily changed my sitting position and spoke directly.

MC: There's no need for small talk. The old gentleman wants to talk about Shaw, right?

Hearing the name "Shaw", the villagers shivered instinctively and gritted their teeth before nodding.

Mayor: That's right! That's him! That disciple of yours is acting too arrogantly!

The mayor immediately started talking and complained endlessly.

Basically, it all boils down to Shaw being rude when traveling the world, being selective when fighting demons, and not knowing how to hold back. It's all just boring stuff.

I blocked a yawn with my sleeve, but the mayor didn't notice my impatience. He took a sip of strong tea and patted his knee.

Mayor: …..This time, he went even further and actually tied butcher Qian to a tree, using him as bait to attract ghosts! MC: Oh. Mayor: Butcher Qian was so frightened that he was still lying in bed! MC: ….oh. Mayor: Their whole family depends on him for food. Life is really difficult these days, so… ?.?: So what?

A voice sounded above my head. I looked up and met a pair of playful eyes.

It's Shaw. He sat back on the beam, dangling his long legs, and smiled at me leisurely, then turned his eyes to the mayor.

The young man's tone clearly carried a smile, but his words were as sharp as a blade.

Shaw: I’m asking you, so what? Mayor: No, nothing!!

The mayor stood up in a hurry and almost knocked over the unfinished tea cup.

Mayor: ——Fairy MC, Taoist Master Shaw, I suddenly remembered that I have something to do at home, so I’ll take my leave first!

Before I had a chance to speak, Shaw had already leapt down from the beam and landed right in front of me, just as the mayor scrambled away in a hurry.

He first gave a cold sneer, then swept the teacup the man had used out the door with a flick of his sleeve, treating it like trash.

Shaw: What was he here for? MC: What do you say? MC: Of course, he's here to complain about you, my 'recalcitrant disciple,' being too disobedient and in need of correction.

Shaw: Hey, who is your disciple? Do you still want to train me?

I fiddled with the tassels on my whisk and curled my lips.

MC: Since you're not my disciple, why do you have the right to look at the cultivation manuals and texts I've collected?

Shaw: No reason. Anyway, I want to read it, and you can’t stop me, right? Shaw: Besides, I haven’t looked at your cultivation manuals for nothing. Shaw: Since I came here, haven't you been able to practice your cultivation with peace of mind, without having to be invited down the mountain by these people every once in a while?

Back then, Shaw appeared at my courtyard gate without any warning.

He claimed to be a wandering martial Taoist, here to find someone, and while he was at it, to do some ghost and demon exorcism work to make a bit of extra money.

Seeing that he had good aptitude, I casually gave him some pointers.

In return, while he was traveling down the mountain, he used my name and handled many mundane affairs on my behalf.

This subtle understanding has continued until now. But now…

MC: Other things might be forgivable, but why were you so harsh with the butcher Qian? Shaw: Didn't you tell me about Qian Butcher before? This fat man encountered a demon with his brother when he was young. He pushed his brother into the demon's mouth and ran away. Shaw: Afterwards, feeling guilty, he came to you for help with rituals and prayers, didn't he?

While he was talking leisurely, he poured a cup of tea and pushed it in front of me.

I took a sip of the tea and briefly recalled that I might have mentioned this during one of our casual chats over tea and meals.

MC: What does this have to do with you bleeding him to attract ghosts?

Shaw: It doesn't matter, I just want to say... I am much kinder than him. Shaw: He used a human life to feed the demons, while I only use a vial of blood and a bit of courage... With all the clamor, aren’t I still kind-hearted?

When Shaw leaned toward me, the faint scent of tea flowers escaped from his collar, and I held my breath.

MC: You might think it's just the way it is, but let me remind you of something… MC: Next time, do it more discreetly, lest the old man come up the mountain again and bore me to death.

Shaw burst out laughing.

He originally had sharp features and a somewhat arrogant appearance. When he smiled, his demeanor became even more unruly and bold. He didn't seem like a righteous person dedicated to expelling demons and upholding justice, but rather like a little devil causing trouble in the world.

When he stopped laughing, I asked him some more about his experiences at the foot of the mountain, and all I got were answers that were completely different from the mayor's.

Shaw: ...I scolded him because he deserved it. I told him not to go out during the time of demons, but he insisted on strolling around. All I can say is that if he died, he brought it on himself. Shaw: ...Is a poor person's life worth less? Anyway, I’ll go help where I want to help. If he's in a hurry, he can ask another Taoist priest. Shaw [sighs]: …That demon was quite powerful. I was caught off guard, which is why it managed to set half the village on fire. If I had known earlier, I would have learned from her. MC [surprised]: Her?

When I heard this word, my heart felt like it was gently pulled by a thread, but my face was still smiling.

MC: Are you referring to Fairy Xuanhe when you say "her"?

Shaw: Yes, who else could it be?

I looked at Shaw, and he confidently spread his hands.

Shaw: If she were to handle it, she would probably crush the monster to ashes, and avoid the troubles that would follow. MC: Not necessarily. MC: Fairy Xuanhe has an eccentric personality and cruel methods, which will only cause more trouble. MC: Maybe if she wasn’t in a good mood while exorcizing demons, she might set the village on fire herself. Shaw: …..

Shaw narrowed his eyes and twitched the corner of his mouth.

Shaw: MC, I originally thought you were different from the rest of the world. Shaw: It turns out you think of her the same way. MC: It’s not that I think of her that way, it’s that everyone in the world thinks so. Shaw: Everyone in the world? Shaw [scoffs]: I don’t care what everyone in the world does, I just ask you, do you also think that Fairy Xuanhe is a fallen witch?

I averted my gaze, avoiding the sight of Shaw's hand slowly curling into a fist, and spoke each word deliberately.

MC: Does what I think matter? MC: Shaw, she is dead. Don't look for her anymore. It will only make you have delusional thoughts… Shaw: I do not believe.

Shaw interrupted me coldly.

Shaw: Unless I see her body with my own eyes, I won't believe it.

He had reached this point, and I knew that it would be useless to say more, so I could only close my mouth.

A long silence brewed between me and him. When the teacup on the table was no longer warm, Shaw finally stood up.

He picked up a few books on my table and waved at me.

Shaw: It's time for me to leave. Please lend me these few volumes of exercises and return them to you later. Shaw: By the way, remember to treat me with a different kind of tea next time, this one is too unpleasant to drink. MC: Whoever wants to entertain you, please return the book to me!

I shouted angrily at Shaw's back, only to receive a wanton chuckle from him.

—

[Section 2]

Ever since the earth's spiritual veins were tainted by demonic energy a century ago, monsters have been rampant everywhere. Not only have people been living in constant unease, but even the flowers and plants have lost their vibrancy, always appearing withered and desolate.

Sighing, I broke off a few withered branches and finally discovered a cluster of blooming flowers.

MC: ...Although they bloomed a bit later than last year, it's good that we met again.

I reached out my hand with joy and touched the petals.

It gently swayed its branches, as if responding to my mood. A drop of night dew fell from its petal tip, moistening my fingertips.

I brushed away the water stain, and my thoughts drifted away, following the spreading fingerprints.

Shaw [in a low voice]: What are you doing?

A slender hand suddenly appeared before my eyes, emanating a familiar, stronger fragrance of blooming tea from the sleeve.

Only then did I come back to my senses and turn around to glare at Shaw.

MC: Why do you scare me every time you come here?

Shaw: Are you scared? I see that your expression is very calm every time. MC: Hmph, it's just my refined demeanor. Shaw: Yes, yes, who doesn’t know that Fairy MC is unparalleled and her joy and anger are never visible in her expressions.

Shaw casually quarreled with me, raised his eyebrows, and looked around.

Shaw: How do I feel... your yard is much prettier than the last time I came here? MC: You always come in autumn and winter, so how can you see any flowers and plants? It's almost summer now, and of course the flowers are blooming more. Shaw: Indeed, you must have put a lot of thought into raising these delicate little things so well, right? MC: Fortunately, it doesn’t matter if you spend more time thinking on the things you like. Shaw: As long as you like it, will you spend more time and effort?

Shaw's rhetorical question came out of nowhere. I was a little surprised and turned to look at him. But I saw his eyes falling directly on my face as if he was confirming something.

Being stared at by him made me feel a little nervous, and I bit my lip.

MC: What's wrong...don't you know how? Shaw: Of course, I do too.

Shaw finally looked away and raised the corners of his mouth.

Shaw: I will not put just "a little" thought into something I like, but will use all my strength and risk everything to win it.

Indeed, you're still too young. Only someone youthful would casually use words like 'exhaust' and 'everything,' which carry such a resolute meaning. I couldn’t help but chuckle.

MC: You'd better keep some for yourself. You've finally achieved results in your cultivation. Wouldn't it be a big loss if you gambled it all away? Shaw: Lose or win, I have the final say.

After he finished speaking, he paused and added another sentence.

Shaw: MC...has my practice really paid off? MC: Certainly. Even if you don’t know how many boundaries you have broken, you can still feel the yang energy in your body being filled, right? Shaw: That's true... Lately, when I've been walking at night, no wandering spirits or ghosts dare to come near me.

Shaw muttered, handing me a few scrolls from his arms.

Shaw: I'm really curious, where exactly did you get these techniques from? Shaw: I've been stuck at a bottleneck in my cultivation for a long time. I've sought help from both reputable sects and unorthodox paths, but nothing has worked—I've been stuck at the same level. Shaw: Ever since I started using your techniques, cultivation has become remarkably easy. MC: These are all techniques I created myself. Besides, isn't it a good thing that they're simple to practice?

I took the scrolls and calmly met his gaze.

MC: Just think that this fairy is an unparalleled genius and happened to be so compassionate that she helped you.

Shaw: Hahaha, this is the first time I have seen someone say that she is a genius!

He laughed so loudly that I couldn't help but pout.

MC: Is that not okay? Shaw: Of course, this genius fairy is so cute.

His straightforward words made my face heat up slightly, and I quickly changed the topic.

MC: Okay, tell me what you have experienced during this time.

In order to ensure the stability of the formation and peace in all directions, I have been living in the mountains for a long time. I rely on Shaw to tell me everything I know about the outside world.

Who did you meet, what demon did you kill, what food and wine did you eat…

From Shaw's gentle words, I could hear, see, and feel the long-lost warmth of the everyday world.

But this time as I listened, I suddenly noticed something was wrong.

MC: ..... Even if this monster makes you unhappy, you can just get rid of it. Is it necessary to beat it half to death and throw it in front of its deadly enemy?

Shaw [scoffs]: Oh, it offended me, why should I let it die happily? Shaw: Of course, I have to let it be tortured to death by its mortal enemy so that I can feel relieved. MC: ……Nonsense.

Is he imitating Fairy Xuanhe's method again? Looking at Shaw's face, I swallowed these words and sighed lightly.

MC: When I first met you, you were still a very well-behaved child.

Shaw [clicks his tongue]: Tsk, who are you calling a kid? Do you really think you're that much older? Shaw: Besides, when I saw you, I looked pretty much the same as I do now. Where exactly do you think I still seem like a kid?

Shaw took a step forward. With his tall stature and sharp demeanor, his presence was imposing and gave off the pressure of an adult man, making it difficult to resist.

I couldn't help but take a step back. Seeing me retreat, Shaw seemed to find it amusing and continued to advance, matching my steps.

The more I retreated, the further he advanced, until I had nowhere left to back up. My back pressed against the flower stand, and I found myself surrounded by the intense fragrance of blooming flowers.

I couldn't help but stare at him, but he just smiled at me.

MC: Is it fun?

Shaw [whispers seductively]: Fun. Shaw: Seeing the clumsy fairy retreating like this, not even bothering to use a spell to push me away, is really amusing... Eh!

I immediately did as he wished, swinging my whisk and sending a gust of energy that forcefully pushed him backward.

Shaw stumbled a few steps before steadying himself with the flower pot, but the corner of his mouth was still turned up in a smile.

Shaw: You pushed me too far. MC: You should just stand there. Shaw: I prefer not.

As he spoke, Shaw plucked a blue lotus from the flower pot and approached me again.

He raised his hand and placed the blue lotus hairpin into my hair.

MC: …..?

I looked at him, puzzled, and met his gaze with his crescent-shaped eyebrows and eyes.

Shaw [in a sweet voice]: This is just a token of gratitude for lending me your techniques. MC: Shaw, you borrowed my books and now you’re giving me one of my own flowers as a return gift? You're the one being foolish!

Shaw [whispers seductively x1]: Maybe. Shaw [x2]: But the fairy looks quite beautiful like this.

His whisper was low and seductive, but also with a subtle hint of caution.

In those bright eyes, there was only my reflection: the snowy white robe and the delicate blue lotus.

The fragrance of the blooming flowers grew more intense, like a fine wine nearing its perfect brew.

My heart raced as if something long-awaited was about to appear before me.

MC: Shaw….

Shaw [x3]: I remember she looked like this when I first saw her.

Everything was shattered, and my face instantly turned cold.

I swung the whisk again, and this time, Shaw was sent outside the courtyard, a hundred meters away, before he even had a chance to make a sound.

MC [coldly]: I won't accept it.

—

📿 Part 2

[prince-liest]

!!! 👀 you’re on the dragons website? uh by which I mean, hello, greetings fellow human (?). may be a weird ask but your fics are the kind of shit I just read on repeat because they’re so goddamn good for my brain in every single way BUT I haven’t sat down and wrestled my brain into submission in order to comment on them yet, so could I buy you something nice on FR to show my appreciation in the meantime? my old account and everything in it has just been rotting lol I keep telling myself I’ll go spend it all on art or something but I just.. never do. thank you for the gift of your writing, it’s kind of making my tentative foray into this fandom more bearable ❤️

GASP!! You're amazing, and that's such a lovely offer for you to make! <3 I'm always genuinely so delighted when people enjoy my stories enough to give them more than one read, so thank you so much!!! This is not a weird ask at all, I genuinely appreciate it! And hey, I get it - comments can be hard, I also can often have a hard time leaving them despite being a writer myself!

I am indeedy on the dragons website, and I am in fact a filthy dragon capitalist who is very invested in their underground designer dragon mill (read: I run a hatchery) but has recently gone broke buying too many genes for a specific project, ehehehe.

I actually just finished my Cupid and Psyche breeding project!

Cupid is still a baby nocturne who, tragically, is going to need three gem genes (iridescent, butterfly, and koi) because despite having four separate breeding pairs to nail the colors on him, I couldn't get one that also had the genes I needed! So if it's something that is within your range, I would be genuinely very appreciative of one of those gene scrolls! If not (they are Pretty Expensive), I also have a wishlist over here! Aside from retired fest items I'm slowly collecting from the years I missed, it's mostly a few scene backgrounds! :)

Haha, I hope it's okay that this basically became a chance for me to show off the latest breeding pair. x) Thank you very much again, and it's always fun to see other folks that play(ed) Flight Rising!

[strapskinkstories]

Fen becomes a rubber maid and then gets trashed!

Sissy Fen sat down to his computer in the evening on a Friday night, just off work. He looked through his social medias and saw nothing, he put a bowl of instant noodles in the microwave and sighed saying to himself “Wonderful, another boring…” *KERDINK* His laptop chimed. Sissy Fen left the microwave alone and sat at the computer. On it was the following message to his Tumblr.

“Hello Fen, I hope you can possibly meet with me this evening for a full weekend session. I saw your want ad in the oddities and sex work section of the classifieds online and it told me to come message you on here. I’m looking for a rubber covered maid, you said you want to be converted into a rubber covered maid. I have all the clothing and everything, there’s only one stipulation, you have to live in my house wearing the uniform, you will be stored in the uniform like an object. If you at any time fail to clean the house perfectly I reserve the right to administer a punishment like no other. Respond to me if you are serious, if you are a time waster don’t bother, I’m in serious need of a RUBBER MAID SLAVE!”

CC Craigslist Ad: Submissive Rubber Sissy Guy 34M Seeks Live In Slave Arrangement - 34M Uncut, looking for live in slave arrangement, don’t have gear, just want to be permanently rubbered up and never released from it. don’t email me with CL, Tumblr message me at @sissyfen

I feel my heart skip a beat as I read and re-read the message, my cock throbbing as the thought. With barely a seconds thought, I quickly type out a reply.

“Hello, and thank you so much for your message. I am free right now if you can tell me where to go. I would love to be turned into your rubber maid, and happily consent to being stored away while not being used like a true object, as well as any punishment you deem fit. I will surrender myself to your every whim for the chance to be a true rubber object! Please please please come back to me asap!”

I hit send, not truly thinking about what is next, my microwave noodles completely forgotten as I begin to get lost in a spiral of ever deepening fantasy

*BEEP BEEP* Fen snaps out of fantasy as the microwave starts to angrily beep at him. Fen grabs his soggy noodles and sits at the desk, he stares at the screen scrolling through porn. Fen sighs thinking he got hit by a catfisher yet again. Suddenly *KERDINK* the window pops up. It's Master Blunn. Master Blunn shows you his house and says "214 E Poplar Drive, don't be later than 7PM and expect to get dressed and stored away until your workday tomorrow."

I wolf down the soggy noodles in an instant, barely tasting them as I rush to get ready. It’s already 6PM, and Poplar drive is 45 mins at least from my apartment. 

I am soon out the door, locking it behind me and rushing to meet the 7PM deadline. I haven’t brought anything with me other than my keys and wallet, my mind filled with thoughts of serving as a true rubber maid for a full weekend.

I finally reach the massive house, knocking on the door at 1 minute past 7

Master Blunn opens the door and says "Hmph, a minute late, you've never been to a doctors office, people show up early to see me. Oh right, well now you know what I do when I'm not here at the mansion, I'm a surgeon. Neurosurgeon to be exact. Master Blunn was actually Dr Albert Blunn, the universities head of neurosurgery. He wore a shiny white labcoat made of latex, beneath it he had on green rubber scrub pants and shirt. Master Blunn said looking at Fen "Before you even ask if I wear my rubber to work, yes, I do all the time, people love seeing me in it and a lot of people love rubber hugs before getting gassed out or IV'd out. I only wash it when someone gets sick, I keep it super clean using a special purple light that doesn't destroy smells, because this rubber smells lovely! Every person who hugs me likes the sweaty sweet salty rubbery smell. Why don't you try giving Dr Blunn the snuggle doctor a hug!?" He opened his arms wide, his scrub shirt dripping sweat onto his pants

I take a sniff, immediately feeling weak at the smell of the latex and rubber, it being the perfect blend of heavenly and just a bit disgusting, before meekly stepping forward towards Master Blunn’s open arms. He is massive, towering over me. I briefly wondering if I have made a mistake coming here so quickly before I am dragged into a glorious sweaty, rubbery hug.

Master Blunn squeezes Fen tightly and says "Come on, who can refuse a sweaty Blunn hug!" He falls forward onto Fen body slamming Fen onto the relatively hard carpeted floor. He lays there pulling his arms tighter and tighter saying "You're gonna suffocate sucking on my sweaty scrub shirt! Either that or I'm gonna feel you orgasm beneath me as I crush your face into my sweaty shirt!"

The breath is forced out of me by the sudden body slam, my gasp to try and draw in more doing nothing but filling my mouth with the sweaty latex. I thrash beneath Master Blunn, though can do nothing more than weakly struggle as I am held firmly beneath him. I feel myself getting light headed as my lungs burn for oxygen, my cock spasming in an involuntary orgasm as I start to black out.

Fen in the rubber dress & apron (Source: Tumblr Generic - @sissyfen)

Master Blunn keeps you in the tight grip, he laughs as you black out. When you black out he injects a small syringe into your neck to keep you asleep. Master Blunn forces your limp body into a thick heavy 30lb latex dress with a 10lb latex apron on over it. He puts 10lb handcuffs on Fen's hands and as he awakens pulls a hood on over his head zipping it shut and locking it along with the dress. Master Blunn holds the keys up to Fen's face and then throws them across the room into the fireplace saying "Orgasm smelling my sweaty scrubs, you become my rubber slave forever, until you mess up. First time you mess up, things get worse, second time things get even worse, third time your life becomes a miserable hell." Master Blunn forces Fen down into a small pit in the floor. He is forced to kneel down with his head pressed against his rubber apron. Master Blunn closes the floor trap door and says "I'll see you in the morning, until then enjoy getting acquainted with the smell of your uniform, I bet you like its smell, if you liked my sweaty work uniform you'll love the dirty maids uniform that I've had every rubber maid wear, I've had over 500 maids in that uniform over the last 30 years. It's never been washed, it's been sweat in pissed in puked in covered in all sorts of filth. Have fun huffing the stink of that apron and dress all night long slave Fen! Tomorrow we can figure out a new name for you."

I let out a moan as the trap door is forced shut, a heavy click heralding the lock, pushing my face even further into the heavy apron, leaving me in a crushed ball position. I can barely even wiggle as I try and call out, but all that escapes is a soft moan. 

True to Master Blunn’s word, the Apron and maids uniform are disgusting the smells of piss, sweat and puke overwhelming me in the tight confines, while the sheer weight of the dress, combined with the manacles and my prison mean all I can do is gasp for what little rancid air I can pull in

The night passes very slowly for poor Fen, Master Blunn awakens Fen the next morning by dumping squidgy rotting yogurt fruit and vegetables into the pit, he forces the door shut and says "Enjoy your breafast, enjoy drowning in sticky nasty rotting filth! When you've had enough of drowning you can drink it down and there's your fucking meal you stupid worm! Fucking dumb of you to come here. I have dozens of people stored away, some permanently stored away. You're gonna be my permanent slave to clean the place and eat all of the trash and food that spoils, understand dumb worm!" He pauses for a few minutes staring into Fen's eyes as the gooey yogurt and trash settles around him allowing Master Blunn to pour more in until it's up to Fen's neck

I choke and splutter, fear rising in me as the disgusting mess is poured down onto me, Master Blunn’s words ringing in my ears. I try to mumble and beg for mercy, but all that gets me is a mouthful of the disgusting sour yogurt and other have rotten or partially eaten food. I gag, my eyes filling with tears, but I instantly see that any plea I can make will fall entirely on deaf ears, Master Blunn leering down at me with a sadistic glare.

With a whimper, I try and slurp down more of the disgusting slop, having to stop and wretch every few mouthfuls to stop myself throwing up and making the mess even worse.

“P...Please...” I weakly manage between mouthfuls

Master Blunn laughs, he pours a heavy stinking blue rotting yogurt over Fen's head and forces the lid shut saying "have fun drowning in it, even after you're done drowning you'll stll be suffering breathing it off of your uniform and the apron. When that pit is empty, or when you can't eat any more, scream for me, but I want it at least half empty or you're gonna end up being tossed into a trash compactor and crushed to death, so get eating that nasty sludge worm! After you eat your breakfast it'll be your time to do the yard work!

I struggle through the disgusting mess, forcing myself to eat mouthful after mouthful. More than once I slip and my head goes, and soon I am completely covered in the filthy mess. The stench is awful, but eventually I have managed to eat about three quarters of the slop.

“M...Master Blunn! I’m...finished” I call out, wretching as the smell assaults me yet again

Master Blunn returns. He opens the hatch and forces Fen to stand up and says “Your new name is Sissy. Understand Sissy? Now you go outside and do the yard yard work.” Master Blunn attached a lead chain to the heavy cuffs and dragged Fen outside into the 100 degree heat. He held a manual push mower to him and said “Should take you a good 12 hours. Just come pass out in the dirty workwear bin over there when you’re done. Who cares if a stupid slave like you gets to breathe proper air. Stinking dirty workwear is enough as long as you don’t suffocate.” Master Alex sat on a beach chair sipping lemonade and shouted “If you’re good I’ll let you drink my sweat!” He chuckled wearing a thick leather jacket with no lining against his skin

The sun is unbearable as I start to push the ancient hand mower. It is heavy and stiff, forcing me to put all my weight behind it just to move it. In mere moments I’m drenching in sweat, adding to the awful smell that now clings to me.

For a moment I wonder if I should just run for it, but the heavy manacles force me to stay, let along the heavy rubber dress. As the hours pass, my body screams I protest, forcing me to stop more than once, only to push myself again as I catch a glare from Master Blunn. Finally, after what feels like an eternity of torment, I cut the last blade of grass, crawling over to the dirty workwear bin. 

With the last ounce of my strength I open the lid, before recoiling at the stench, greeted by what looks like hundreds of overalls, work boots and thick butchers aprons covered in mud, puke, trash and every other manner of filth.

I try and move away from the bin, but before I can, I feel Master Blunn grabbing me from behind

Master Blunn forces Fen into the bin. He grabs the collar of the dress and pulls the dress up over Fen’s head zipping it closed and locking it. He pulls dozens of the dirty overalls over Fen and buries Fen up to his chin saying “Feel good I bet. Fuckin boiling in stink. Smell that nasty dress! It’s all you will breathe for the night. All you get to inhale is the smell in that dirty workwear bin. Some of that shit not been washed in 50 years. Fen heard a loud chain lock click shut and then heard Master Blunns footsteps fade to silence. Right then and there Fen knew he was totally alone for the whole night

I let out a sob, trying to move to get any sort of fresh air. Instead, something shifts within the pile, collapsing underneath me and sending me sprawling onto my back, the pile of rancid work clothes tumbling over on top of me, burying me fully. I try to scream, but all I manage to do is get a filthy apron lodged in my mouth

The taste is awful, the industrial rubber coated with piss and sweat, and forcing my mouth to remain open so anything else can dribble in.

Utterly exhausted, I slump as much as I am able against the crushing weight of the clothes, unable to move more than an inch, struggling for each breath. Sleep never comes, the minutes passing with agonising, tortuous slowness

Master Blunn returns the next day to the bin. He looks down and sees that Fen had made the gear collapse around him. Master Blunn rolled over a massive keg of sour yogurt mixed with beer and poured the pink concoction into the bin and said “Have fun. Hope you can eat it all and you don’t drown. Dead people aren’t fun to play with. I like my captives to be alive!” Master Blunn slammed the lid shut and kicked the bin saying “Start eating garbage disposal. Think that’s gonna be your permanent job. Don’t fail at it or I’ll reassign you from one job to another until I reduce you to nothing but a fuckin’ apron!”

I let out a gargling scream as the disgusting yogurt pours into my wedged open mouth, unable to do anything other than swallow it while still trapped under the mountain of clothes. 

Even with everything, and to my shame, I’m still rock hard beneath my dress, the torment making it strain painfully, even as I am unable to even get near it to relieve myself

Master Blunn laughs hearing the gurgling sounds coming from the bin. He said "See you tonight, I'll have to get you out of there and move you elsewhere unless you wanna get crushed in the landfill"

I’m completely spent at the words, sobbing around the vile filth surrounding me, crushing the day I ever responded to that message

Master Blunn returns that night, he pulls Fen out of the bin and helps him walk into the house. He says "Thought you were gonna get a reprieve from nasty stinky crushing? Nah, I got something just as bad if not worse for you!" He lead Fen into an ABDL nursery, he opened the diaper chute and threw Fen head first in yelling "Have fun suffering buried amongst several thousand piss and shit filled diapers and plastic pants!" Fen fell into a big pit of diapers PVC pants and PVC clothes, with each move he sank deeper. He could faintly hear Master Blunn say "Eat at least five gross diapers clean and I'll let you move to your next slave task stupid slut!"

...I scream and cry as the diapers cling to me, the stench of piss and other filled diapers mixing with rubber into an unholy stench. I puke into the pile, which only makes it worse, and for close to an hour I just lie there, unable to contemplate moving. Finally, I slowly try and do what Master has said, though my stomach refuses to aid me, barely allowing me to get through three of the disgusting soggy masses when the lid of the diaper chute is opened the next morning

Master Blunn says "Shame, you couldn't eat five diapers to save yourself. I guess you actually do want that twisted fantasy you had posted on GarbageBagged years ago to happen to you. Do you remember that fucked up fantasy, do you remember wanting to be thrown away with a bunch of dirty overalls and dirty winter coats? It's a good thing I have a whole bin of filthy foul dirty roadworkers jackets to throw you away with! Like the worthless trash you are!"

Master Blunn dragged Fen out of the diaper bin and dragged him up the stairs dripping in filth and sweat. Master Blunn threw Fen into a large bin of tar grease mud cow shit and sweat soaked hiviz workwear

“No, please!” I scream, floundering in the slime, trying and failing to stand up.

“M-Master Blunn, I don’t want this anymore! I thought I did, but I just want to go home! It was just a fantasy!!!”

I grab onto the side of the bin, the tar acting like glue, adding to my dresses weight so I can barely move, let alone haul myself out of the bin.

“Please.” I whimper, looking up at you through the cow shit smeared across my face

Master Blunn laughs at Fen and pushes him back into the bin, this time he pushes him in face first making sure to smash his face into a grimy gritty hiviz vest. The vest was soaked in machine oil and mud along with SWEAT. Fen made bubbling sounds as Master Blunn pressed him down harder and harder. Master Blunn climbed in on top of Fen and stood on top of him, crushing his body down into the dirty workwear saying "Fuckin sink! Fuckin sink below all of the workwear, fuckin drown in filthy workwear! After I'm done with you you're gonna be sewn in the clear pocket of one of these vests, you'll be forever suffering in a stinky thick PVC hell surrounded by gooey rotting hiviz!"

I flail as best as I can but it’s in vain, my strength utterly spent from the torment. My mouth is filled with the disgusting muddy trash as I wonder if this is how it all ends, my vision beginning to go dark as I begin to pass out. Master Blunn just laughs, pushing harder, already reaching for the massive trash bag beside the disgusting trash

Master Blunn holds Fen down until his struggles stop, he picks him up by the neck and lifts him into a massive rubber bag, he packs the bag full of dirty vests and says "See you in a few months, the compression will slowly shrink you to no larger than a gum ball, it will be extremely slow, painful, hot and stinky. Goodbye!" He left, the vacuum turned on, the bag crushed poor Fen in the dirty workwear for 3 minutes then released him for a minute then repeated the cycle, 3 minutes on 1 minute off without ending. This is how Fen will spend the entire week, being slowly crushed to a new size

For an entire week my world is nothing but agony and disgusting slop, my body being crushed again and again. True to Masters words I feel myself shrinking, the sludge pressing in on all sides, until I’m little more than a mound of flesh, my limbs useless and atrophied, while my skin has absorbed the gunge around it, ensuring that I will never escape the disgusting smells that I am trapped with now.

If I had thought I was helpless before I know better now unable to move even if I was completely removed from the now far oversized dress and disgusting sweaty work clothes

Now trapped inside of the dress Fen was truly reduced to nothing. Master Blunn picks up the dress and pisses into it before jacking off into it, he has 500 other men jerk off into it and then he rolls the dress into a vacuum bag and vacuum seals it saying "Poor fucker can't die, bet you want to though, fucking crushed in all that nasty crusty stinking rubber about to be crushed even harder!" Master Blunn turned on the vacuum and walked away leaving Fen there as the dress compacted around his helpless body

I scream as best I can, utterly helpless yet in agony all the same. My scream is instantly stolen by the vacuum, the air sucked from my lungs as the disgusting slime and filthy clothes as pulled ever closer to my face and body. I want to struggle, I want to die, but I can’t do either, so I just suffer for Master’s amusement

Master Blunn leaves the vacuum running for a whole hour. He then wraps Fens poor compressed body in thirty heavy thick quilts, he then forces the massive roll of quilts into a 10mm thick vacuum bag. The ultra heavy thick vacuum bag is sealed, the vacuum is turned on and Master Blunn yells "If you can hear me crushed inside there, enjoy being slowly crushed til your body is flattened in filth! Fuckin filth filling your lungs stomach, every inch of your body filled with filth!"

I can hear Master, though only just, the terror setting in anew as my breath is stolen once more. The weight of the quilts crushes into me, while the vacuum squeezes out every last drop of sweat and filth, each one seeming to find its way to the centre of the mass; my ever flattening body. After mere hours, it’s done, Sissy Fen now little more than a disk of flattened flesh, yet impossibly I’m still alive, my eyes wide and my lungs burning for air that I haven’t tasted seemingly for lifetimes

Master Blunn unzipped the bag 100 years later, he unwrapped the quilts revealing the dress with Sissy Fen wrapped inside of it. Master Blunn unrolled the crusty stiff dress and said "You thought it's been horrible? You don't know horrible!" Master Blunn and 100 mn walked in, they all shat into the bag letting their thick sticky shit flow into the dress. Master Blunn tied the dress shut and said "How's it feel drowning in shit along with all the other filth, about to be crushed to death in shit!" Master Blunn folded the dress violently and tightly, he then folded it in half several times. He wrapped the dress in 30 more quilts, making it 60 quilts total. He violently and brutally folded the quilts forcing them into the massive vacuum bag. Master Blunn turned on the vacuum and yelled "I'm welding the door shut and leaving the vacuum running, it'll be a long slow cruel death for you. Have fun dying, could take thousands of years, but your death will be here, sucking the shit soaked rubber dress and all the other nasty filth you are encased in!

I try and talk, but my mouth has long since fused into an open scream, once packed with sweat and now packed with human shit from hundreds of men. My body burns with constant agony of hundreds of years of crushing pressure, leaving me wishing for nothing more than death

Unbeknownst to me however, death would never come, no release permitted to Blunn’s slaves. My immortality had been ensured from the moment he had first injected me all those millennia ago. Now, as centuries turn, I become nothing more than a forgotten footnote, the building slowly buried by time, leaving me forever buried and crushed beneath the shit of my betters. After being told I might die I never did, I lay there 10,000 years later, still sucking the rotting rubber tasting the shit piss cum sweat and all the other congealing rotting filth around me, knowing that nothing will change as I slowly sink deeper and deeper into the earth, the temperature getting warmer as time passes. I know in some hundred thousand years, maybe, maybe not, my body will be liquified and burned up in the core of the earth, that or I’ll live in that molten magma, crushed the hardest, unable to smell, only able to feel the searing hot crushing grip around my worthless atrophied paralyzed body. Now I am nothing but a worthless bag of flesh to the world, I may as well be dead.

[magnus-the-maqnificent]

So. Here’s a lil story.

I participate in the Malec Secret Santa every year. And every year I’m a master procrastinator and sit down and write out my fic in the last 2-3 days, maybe a week if we’re being generous (and I never learn, but that’s not the point of this story)

This year, however, things were different. I’m in the middle of Pre-finals right now, and the week of the Secret Santa deadline I was swamped with college work and record submissions (cause apparently, my professors are all also Master Procrastinators who waited till the last minute to let us know what to write in those records).

Anyway, I was overworked, I was tired, and I had no idea what to write for the Secret Santa. I made a few false starts and decided to go for a fluffy strangers to lovers college au. It might’ve been 3k if I’d written it out completely.

I didn’t. It was a hard fic to write. I didn’t have any idea about the plot, just that I wanted it to be what I wrote above, and I knew it had to be Magnus POV and I had a certain characterisation for Alec in mind.

But uhm, anyways. Plot didn’t work. I didn’t vibe with the characterisations. Fic was supposed to be a fluffy wintery slow burn, with Malec meeting multiple times at college and slowly falling (while being oblivious dumbasses ofc) and finally somehow ending up together. 500 words in, I reread through it and I was like.

This is boring, uninspired crap.

No, really. There’s no conflict. All the tension is forced. Heck, the fic itself feels forced. One tiny part of me was like, hey, maybe that’s the point of this story, maybe some love stories are just… simple and boring. It’s realistic right? We can write a monologue about it in the end?

I hated that too.

I ended up ditching the fic, and got to studying, while the deadline still loomed over me. And then, I got this lil idea, of a coffee shop and rivals to lovers. It was a tiny idea, just two scenes long, but hey it was still better than what I’d been writing before and I don’t have the time anyway. I sat down and wrote it, and it came out about 1.5k long. I submitted it in, and well, here’s the comments on it so far

I… really don’t know what it means that every single comment mentions the word count (and none of them are negative!! It’s like. I made something that matters in a very small word count. That’s something)

Anyway, I think there’s a few lessons to be learnt here-

1. Word count doesn’t matter, the words do. It’s okay if your works lean towards shorter word counts, as long as you enjoyed writing these, as long as it meant something to you and to the readers.

2. If you’re not enjoying writing something - ditch it!! It’s completely okay.

Idk if I managed to articulate my thoughts properly. I’m probably rambling. But uhm yeah. Happy writing!!

P.S if you haven’t read my Secret Santa fic yet, you can do so here

[snifflesthemouse]

WHY HAS MEGHAN SAT ON THE LETTERS SINCE 2021?

Why Has Meghan Sat on these Letters Since 2021? Why is this Information Being Released Now?

          So, I am sure every single one of you lovely readers have read the news that the Duchess of Sus wrote a letter to Old Harry’s Pa “regarding Meghan’s concerns of “unconscious bias” within senior ranks of the Royal Family” I’ve read two articles now; one from Sky News and the other from the New York Post:

NYT: https://nypost.com/2023/04/21/meghan-markle-wrote-to-king-charles-about-racism-within-royal-family/

SKY: https://news.sky.com/story/meghan-wrote-to-king-charles-expressing-concern-about-unconscious-bias-in-the-royal-family-reports-12863044

          So, why now? Well, these articles essentially say that the couple still feel wronged for the “unconscious bias” over “concerns regarding Archie’s skin color” even though “both Charles and Meghan agreed the comments weren’t made with malice”. The Sky News article doesn’t go as far as the NYP.

          The NYP quotes: He reportedly felt “let down” by his son and daughter-in-law, who he had supported “more than he would care to say,” about Charles. (NYP, 2023). They then said this,

““Yes, there was correspondence, there were letters back and forth from the Duchess of Sussex to the king,” a source confirmed to Page Six Friday.

“But she’s moved on, this was two years ago, it has nothing to do with her decision not to attend the coronation,” the source insisted. (NYP, 2023).

You see what it sounds like? It sounds like one camp leaked something regarding the letters Meghan sent, but then Meghan’s camp got wind of it and sent out the tidbits suggesting Meghan felt her issues are still left unresolved, yet they’re not the reasons she and the children stayed in California. But I wonder if, instead, this was all leaked from the same source.

Remember, Meghan and Harry won an award for combatting racism within the Royal Family by the Kennedys. Right? But they never said the Royals were racist. They said there was unconscious bias within the Royal Family. That’s different. So, because they’re not aware they’re being racist, it’s not as bad as if they were more into it? What nonsense is this?

          This is a power grab move. This is a way to try and take back the narrative. Let me give you an example. Say you’re selling door-to-door or cold-calling customers. Say the customer decides to say that, “No, there is no way I am paying that much money for that.” And you see you are losing control of the narrative. The narrative should be putting your customer in a position where they can be manipulated. If you haven’t used your manipulation tool box to soften their defenses or suspicions in you, you are raw-dogging it. People need to be melted to be molded; one cannot simply snap them into submission.

In the sales situation, the con would slowly work the mark into a false sense of security. Or, if the con is a bigger gain-or-loss, extremes may be taken. So, instead of using stories to melt the mark’s mind, you can use a shock-factor. You can instead make it so outrageous, they feel there is no other option but for it to be the truth. Sometimes, this causes conspiracy theories to take hold because people often think the simple answers are too simple for such extraordinary situations.

An example John Oliver gave once in a show about Conspiracy Theories, they mention the death of Diana, Princess of Wales. Because she was such an extraordinary person who captivated the world with her pouty-puppy face and her smoky-whisper voice and using everything from hugging AIDS patients and helping land mine victims… it was just unacceptable to many that she could die from a drunk driver and lack of a seat belt.

What? How could that possibly be? How could someone so bright, so special, be taken out by a guy way too drunk to drive, and because she didn’t put on her seat belt. Everything about the death is suspicious to many. That is a rabbit hole I will no longer go because it just breaks my heart for William and Harry both. Losing my own mother at a young age, I can relate.

BUT, WHAT ABOUT WHEN THERE IS A LEGITIMATE REASON TO BE SUSPICIOUS?

As an American, I was spoon-fed the idea that my free speech ended where another’s rights began. Americans are silly creatures. We will pretend we all come from royalty, but then we will scream “NOT MY KING” like we even have any influence on UK Politics.

But, I find every single member fascinating. And this all brings me back to this article dump being a power grab to switch the narrative and take control of how the optics look. Remember how we could go to an extreme that would get immediate attention? Say you’re selling a vacuum cleaner. It’s late at night and you have no time left. You need a sale because you haven’t eaten in a week. You are tired, and you are wet. You knock on the door. When they open it and start to say “Sorry, we’re not interested” you break down and cry. Your hair is dripping wet from the weather (or if it’s hot, you’re soaked from sweat, etc.).

You look pitiful, and now you’re crying like that time when your first pet died when you were a kid. Straight ugly crying. Crying like your momma’s new boyfriend made a pass at you in the trailer park’s laundromat, and you liked it. Just bawling. Nine times out of ten, people with money will rush out to hug you.

You see, people with great money don’t care if they ruin clothes, as they are as disposable as their incomes. Once they come to hug you or ask you what’s wrong, you will walk out of there with one heck of a commission. My ex would take my shoes from me and force me to walk bare-foot and pregnant all day selling door-to-door. It was horrible. I am not judging anyone, I am telling you how this con is effective. If you can make someone feel empathy for you, it is more effective than using a story tool box to build trust.

So, this was a move to make Meghan look like she wasn’t “blaming anyone, she was just worried they didn’t know they had unconscious bias, like because it’s like unconscious and all. Otherwise it would be conscious bias, and that’s like racism, but I never said the British Royal Family was racist because they’re not consciously bias, they’re unconsciously bias, and there’s a difference”

Why now? Why this nonsense? Because she is trying to soften the blows and stop the bleeding arteries she’s been punching into the British Royal Family’s jugular. And you know what??

          This part here from the New York Post (2023), “He (Charles) reportedly felt “let down” by his son and daughter-in-law, who he had supported “more than he would care to say,” about Charles. (NYP, 2023). Charles supports Meghan and Harry more than he would care to say. That is what the New York Post reported.

          That suggests that Charles is literally supporting them more than he is willing to admit to, as well. I cannot prove this, and I AM PROBABLY A BAFFOON FOOL FULL OF TOOTSIE POPS, SO DON’T BELIEVE ANYTHING I SAY AND DO YOUR OWN RESEARCH I AM A NOBODY LOSER WHO IS JUST MAKING HYPOTHETICALS HERE…

          Well… maybe the reason so many articles sound like there is a secret dueling PR war between BP and Team Sussex going on is to hide the fact Daddy is really rooting for them and actually giving them money. It would make sense why they are able to afford the mortgage and everything else while they wait for book sales and all the rest.

          It would suggest that Meghan chose to use this as a moment to get some good PR by sounding like she was just concerned and wasn’t blaming… while it sounds like Charles was understanding and less racist than the people they tried to elude that to. Hypothetically, Charles could be using these articles in the Independent that’s been used to mass re-report, to start laying the foundation of a “We were both to blame, and we’re moving on, so please move on with us”.

          If you bought the blinds, they did recently suggest a half-in six-month out of the year arrangement that Celt Views reported on as well, would be extended to Harry. I know there were rumors that Charles only intended to employ Harry as a Royal in his slimmed down Monarchy. It might have been even designed that way to allow William’s children to grow up somewhat normally.

          When he left, he ruined all that and made the Coronation no longer about Charles. Charles does best when he feels like the star, it would seem. Camilla always steps back and lets him be the most important person in the room. That’s why he and Diana wouldn’t work out. They were a dyad, where each one needed more attention than the other and the last time. Diana and Charles were two sides of the same coin in the sense they both needed a deep love and affection they lacked in childhood. Camilla wasn’t so needy in the attention department; she was more interested in playing the best supporting role she could.

          Diana was a star in her own right, but she was not a saint. She had issues. She made mistakes. Did Charles have something to do with that? Eventually and certainly. Was it all his fault? No. Was it all hers? No. Was it that they were never meant to be together period? Yes.

          It seems like the PR wars are firing shots. Or, it seems it is supposed to look that way. To me, it’s the equivalent of standing in the rain to get all wet and gross, so you could look all pathetic… hoping for someone to reach out and hug you. It’s the shock drop of “Charles KNOWS who it IS?!?! WHY HAS HE STAYED SILENT?!” Rage-ers that have a right to be that mad.

          I HAVE NO WAY TO PROVE ANY OF THIS OR ANYTHING, I AM JUST GUESSING AT WHY SOMETHING THIS CRAZY COULD BE LEAKED OR WRITTEN ABOUT THIS CLOSE TO THE CORONATION. WHY ARE WE FINDING OUT THAT CHARLES KNOWS WHO SAID THE ‘UNCONSCIOUS BIAS’ AND THAT ALL THAT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH MEGHAN’S ABSENCE?

          It just seems like someone is trying to make it look like there is an understanding that happened. These letters were written in 2021. Why is it leaked now? Recollections may vary, remember? This here suggests that Charles knew who said what, and essentially the Queen was lying when she said Recollections may Vary. Especially since these articles suggest Meghan and Charle both came to an agreement that there was no malicious intent. BUT, SHE STILL STRESSES HER ISSUES ARE UNRESOLVED. BUT IT DIDN’T KEEP HER AWAY, IT WAS ARCHIE'S BIRTHDAY?

          This is her power move to change the narrative of why she isn’t there. Too many people saying it was a relief, and this and that is so good that she’ll be in LA… So MANY people saying it was a sign of respect even from Meghan to Charles, so it would be his day without her taking any attention away. It's like she is so kind to stay at home and keep the kids away so they don't upstage a KING.

How kind.

[protecterfromafar]

trapped in a spider's web | chapter 1

❥ Childe X Cis!Female Reader ❥

you find yourself trapped in a spider's web...but you don't really want to escape

or, you are a vampire hunter, sworn to defeat and kill any vampire you may come across, but one fateful night will forever haunt you, as the vampire who's life you saved won't seem to leave you alone...and why do you want him to stay?

❥ 18 + only | rated e | explicit sexual content

❥ enemies to lovers, oral sex, fingering, submission

❥ read on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38471695

With glistening golden chandeliers and the cool evening breeze sifting through the main ballroom, it was supposed to be a magical evening. Grand parties like this weren’t held very often; so many representatives from other nations were supposed to meet under a haze of fine wine and soothing music.

But you knew it was merely a front: a lure for the enemy to grasp with sharp fangs.

You were on edge all night, not even bothering a sip of wine; the taste was never to your liking, and neither were the effects it had on your body. You need to be focused all night, for you knew a threat was lurking in the dark shadows, out of sight.

Just when you thought that there would be no unwelcome visitors, a familiar scent caught your attention. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up straight as you felt a whisper of a kiss upon your skin.

“Hey, princess.”

That taunting voice you knew so well caused you to whirl around, a hand on your hip where a knife under your dress sat snugly against your skin. “Tartaglia.”

The enemy stood before you, a few feet away, but close enough for you to quiver slightly at the sigh of his sharp smile and red eyes. He was dressed for the occasion, yet his black suit and deep red accents were so stark against the pale gold of your own attire. You could only describe the handsome creature as one thing.

The enemy, you repeated in your head over and over again. 

But every time you tried to brandish your silver weapon at him, flashes of an old memory keep pouring into your mind.

You remember Ajax laying against a damp tree trunk, whimpering as an open wound bled profusely around the ground around him. A silver nail pierced his nearly invulnerable skin, pinning him helplessly to the rotting trunk, killing him slowly.

A vampire: an enemy you vowed to kill for the safety of humankind, something evil and undeserving of kindness.

Yet why did your heart beat madly on that cold, foggy night?

“Aw, I prefer it when you call me by name.” Ajax’s words brought you out of your head, the ballroom dancers swaying in a trance, unsuspecting of the danger a vampire presented. How no one could notice Ajax amongst them, you were unsure. “You look stunning tonight.”

You scoffed slightly. “Don’t try to flatter me. You won’t stop me from my cause.”

Ajax shrugged as he took a step closer; however, that step was so blurred and fast, he was suddenly right in front of you, a finger under your chin. “I’m not trying to stop you, my butterfly.” He grinned wide, his finger trailing down your neck, over your collarbones, and along the edge of the bodice of your dress, barely grazing the side of your breast not covered by lavish fabric.

You couldn’t help the reaction that tumbled from your lips despite your training; a small whine might have gone unnoticed by a human, but Ajax…he heard everything.

“I came to see how you were faring…it’s quite lovely to see I still have an effect on you…”

His intense smile and gaze were so alluring; your shaky hand could only shakily hold the hilt of your knife. Even Ajax knew you would never strike…especially not now. “D-don’t try to flirt your way out of this!”

“Oh, I think I can.” He licked his lips and leaned in close, ears just mere inches from the outer shell of your ear. “Besides…you’ve missed me, haven’t you?”

His deep, beguiling voice nearly brought you to your knees; it wasn’t as if you weren’t strong enough to resist a vampire’s charms…

Tartaglia…no…Ajax was different.

“Y-you shouldn’t be here; it’s not safe for you.”

Ajax laughed softly. “Oh, don’t worry, I can handle myself. Besides, the only vampire hunter in this room strong enough to take me down…is right in front of me.”

A warm flush rose to your cheeks; part of you knew Ajax was trying to wiggle his way into your food graces, but you also know in the years you’ve known him, he never lied to you…not once. A vampire was to never be trusted...because they would turn on you and bite your neck at any chance they could get. They were bloodthirsty monsters...nothing more.

Yet why did the thought of him sucking your blood...excite you?

“And by the looks of it…” he spoke, gently covering your shaky hand with his own, careful not to touch the silver metal, “...you and I both know there’s a different…battle…you wish to endure.”

Before you could even retort, Ajax whisked you away from the busy ballroom, the sound of the joyful chatter and sweet violin fading into the background. 

Ajax took a deep breath. “Ahh…much better. Now I can really drown in the scent of your sweet blood.”

As you started to become more aware of your surroundings, human eyes still not used to the speed of a vampire, you realized you were utterly trapped. Ajax had a hand braced on the stone wall above your head, cornering you into submission.

And yet…Ajax kept his right side rather...open. If you wanted to…you could just run away…

As if reading your mind, he gestured to the opening with his hand. “I won’t stop you if you decide to run, princess.” Ajax’s voice drew your attention up to look at him. “Promise.” He offered a cunning smile, his fangs gleaming in the nearby candlelight. “But if you don’t move, my little butterfly, I’m going to have my fun with you.”

As you gasped, Ajax leaned down to swallow it with a soft kiss. His free hand cradled the back of your head, protecting you from the hard stone as he slipped his tongue past your lips. He was so careful to keep his fangs at bay, not wanting to tear the skin of your lips. 

It was the tenderness of his actions that surprised you, surprisingly different from his flirting tone. He was gentle in tearing you apart, because each time he came before you...you could just not resist.

“I can smell how excited you are.” Ajax whispered softly as he trailed his lips along your jaw. “Trembling…but not in fear…” He sucked in a sharp breath as he sniffed at your neck. “Every day I dream about sinking my fangs into your sweet, sweet neck.”

“D-don’t!” You protested softly.

Ajax chuckled weakly. “I won’t…I promise.” Yet, he never made a promise to not taste your skin, which he did with delight. He captured a soft  bit of flesh between his lips and sucked hard, just the way he knew you loved the most.

As your head tilted back, a moan threatening to echo in the quiet halls, two gloved fingers pressed against your tongue. Your sounds were muffled quickly as he littered the unmarked expanse of your skin in  soft bruises…surely you wouldn’t be able to return to the ballroom like this.

“Can you keep your voice down, butterfly?” He asked, nuzzling against your side as he slid his gloved fingers from your lips. “Unless you want to suck on my fingers some more…”

“A-ajax!” You whisper yelled at him, embarrassed. But he only smiled.

“Mmm…I love it when you call me by my real name…” Ajax sighed softly, sliding his saliva-slick fingers down the front of your neck, teasing your exposed skin until they came to the bodice of your dress. He then slowly pulled the fabric, careful not to tear it, exposing your breasts to the cold air.

You fight the whine that bubbled in your throat, slamming a hand over your mouth. “Ajax!”

But the vampire only smiled wide. “Don’t think I have forgotten…your favorite places to be teased.”

You hated that he was right, but you started to hate him less and less, especially when he took a nipple into his mouth. You muffled your moans as best as you could as his tongue teased your sensitive bud, your other hand sifting through orange-red locks, holding him close.

Ajax moaned softly then, pulling his lips away briefly. He aimed his red eyes in your direction, almost hypnotizing you. There was now a dampness between your legs as he watched you all the while, kissing between the valley of your chest and teasing your other breast. 

Your knees nearly buckled, unable to take your eyes away from him as he sucked on your chest so intently. He was solely focused on you, kissing and sucking your favorite places…it was so hard to deny how he made you feel.

But keen as ever, Ajax picked up on all of your tell-tale signs of pleasure. A cool hand slid up the inside of your stocking-laced thigh, stroking smooth skin with soft intentions. “Whisper my name…” His words were heavy, commanding you with ease.

“A-ajax…” You obeyed, legs sliding apart as you struggled to stand. 

“Good girl.” Ajax chuckled as he buried his face in your chest, nuzzling against your skin. “Slide down for me…sit on my knee.”

You followed his orders, the cool stone sliding against your back until you felt his knee press against your very…damp panties.

“Mmm, just as I expected.” Ajax teased, nudging his knee against you between your legs. You whined, hand still over your mouth to muffle your pleasured sounds. “I’d be quite the evil man if I didn’t tend to my princess’s needs, hmm?”

In just a few minutes, Ajax had you stifling your moans in a dimly lit corner of an empty hall. Your breasts were fully exposed, with his lips teasing one while the other was littered with darkening hickeys you’re not sure the dress could hide. And now you felt a hand against your inner thigh, sliding up dangerously close.

“Mmm…” Ajax hummed, lazily sucking on your nipple while his fingers pulled the gusset of your panties to one side. 

Your shaky hands started to fall from your face, but Ajax was quick to slide his other hand to your lips, gloved fingers stroking your tongue just as he had before. Before you could even think, you sucked on them incessantly as he fingered between your soft slit, exposing you to his whims.

“Good girl.” Ajax cooed as he wandered to give your other breast some attention. He licked over the forming bruises, pleased with his handiwork. “Don’t worry, I’ll have you biting my fingers in no time. Close your eyes, butterfly.” His voice dripped with honey, but the words commanded you with ease.

You were petrified…scared of being discovered, melting over the fingers and lips of a dangerous vampire…but even more scared at how badly you want him to continue.

“Easy, love.” Ajax chuckled as he teased your clit, feeling how you press into him with need. “You don’t need to fantasize…I’m right here…”

But oh gods, how could you not? Ajax slid a calculated finger inside of you finally, feeling your tight inner walls as you sucked harder and harder on his fingers. He started sucking on your tit again, making your body feel light and warm.

How good will it feel when your back is to a bed and not a stone wall? Oh how you wish that finger was his thick cock, throbbing inside of you, stretching your insides so far apart that you feel like he could break you.

Break me… you begged silently, wishing he could read your mind.

Your screams would be unhindered, lustful moans echoing in a private room for no one but Ajax to hear. His wonderful hands could pin your arms above you head, locking you into place as he rocks endlessly to your womb, knocking against it and threatening to fill it with your seed.

Oh the thought had you jolt when you realize Ajax now had two fingers pushed inside of you, grazing your sensitive spot and causing your body to writhe in absolute pleasure.

“Hold still, girlie.” Ajax’s voice was deeper than before, voice hoarse from excitement watching and feeling your pleasure beneath his fingertips. “Let me do all the work.”

All you can do was nibble on his fingers, knowing that even if they were not gloved, your teeth could not hurt his nearly indestructible skin. You sat on his leg, helpless as he roughly stroked inside you, finding the perfect spot and teasing it until you unraveled before his very eyes.

It happened in a flash, tears streaming down your cheeks as Ajax fingered you to completion. You were cumming all over his hand now, slick and moist as you rolled your hips against him. The orgasm crashed through your body like lightning, the pleasure almost too hard to bear.

In your haze, you could barely make out words whispered only for you. Only as time passed did Ajax’s voice become clearer, lips kissing your ear as his words calm you down. “Good girl…you came so well.” He mused, his fingers now slipped free from your pulsing insides to palm against your slick lips. His palm was cold, causing a stark difference between your burning skin.

But it was oh so soothing…especially when his gloved fingers slipped from your mouth to gently caress your chin.

“My beautiful butterfly…there’s truly not a better sight in the world than your sweet face when you’re lost in pleasure…caused by me.” He chuckled softly, now sliding your ruined panties back into place. As your eyes start to focus on him, he brings those drenched fingers to his lips and tastes them eagerly. “I wish I could survive on the sweet nectar from between your legs…for it is much sweeter than your blood smells.”

You whined softly, lips parted as you started to fall for this vampire even harder than before. “A-ajax…”

“Now now, love,” he warned as you started to reach for his bulge in his pants, “as much as I would love to let you touch me, I feel as if I have overstayed my welcome.”

With your legs being too weak to stand, Ajax easily carried you in your arms, princess style of course. You nestled up to his cool skin, wondering why he made your insides feel so warm…

“You hunter friends are looking for you…and I don’t think it would be in either of our interests if they find out what I can do to you, butterfly.” He informed you, no doubt his supernatural hearing picking up on a faraway conversation. Ajax was now running through the halls away from the commotion while keeping you steady. You didn’t need to tell him where your quarters are…he was rather familiar with them.

“Ajax…don’t leave…” You begged weakly.

Ajax let out a pained sigh. “I must…for now, butterfly. But if you want me to come find you…you already know how.”

Before you could even protest, the soft furs of your bed caressed your back, coaxing you deeper into their firm grasp. Ajax had tucked you in before you drew your eyes towards the open window. He looked majestic in the moonlight, perched on the stone window sill, the dark grounds before him. 

You knew it was not a feasible idea…but you badly craved him at your side.

A vampire and a vampire hunter…what future was there?

But a cold kiss atop your forehead opened doors to a changing fate…

“Goodnight, princess. May you rest well.” Ajax’s voice was soft then, different from his incessant flirting and teasing His words were weighty, holding truth to such a fleeting man.

As if obeying his wishes once more, you closed your eyes and let fatigue take you asunder, a single, cold tear running down your cheek.

Maybe he could stay with you one day…but it was certainly not tonight.

[criminalmindzjunkie]

Reassurance

masterlist

part one

Summary: Spencer feels insecure, and Reader puts his worries to rest. 

A/N: I got several requests to write a follow-up to Avoidance , and after writing almost the whole entire thing, only to scrap it all because it was literal trash, here we are! I initially planned to go a different route with this, but it didn’t flow right and I ended up changing the entire plot line somewhere along the way. I really like how this turned out, and I hope you guys enjoy it, too!

Pairing: sub!Spencer/femdom!Reader

Content warnings: cursing, Spencer being insecure, hand job, oral sex (male receiving), anal fingering, pegging, light degradation, Spencer experiencing sub-drop

Word Count: 6k

           Spencer’s lips drag against mine at a slow, deliberate pace as I sit perched on his lap, my hands tugging lightly at where his hair curls at the nape of his neck. One particularly harsh tug has Spencer gasping into my mouth and tightening his grip on my hips, pulling me down until I’m fully sat on his lap. The bulge tenting his slacks comes in full contact with my clothed core and I hum appreciatively against his lips.

           “Getting excited there, baby?”

           Spencer lets out a whine of protest when I pull away, leaning forward in an attempt to reunite our lips. I press my hand flat against his chest and push him back until he rests against the couch cushions.

           “I thought you wanted to watch a movie tonight?” I ask him, my lips curled up into a knowing smile. Spencer’s thumbs begin to rub soothing circles into my hips as he fixes me with a shy smile.

           “Maybe later,” he replies, sheepish. He looks breathtaking - bathed in the soft glow of the lamp light, shadows dancing across every perfectly chiseled inch of his face. Faint purple bruises dot the underside of his jaw line, remnants of the last time we had been afforded enough time to get tangled up under the bedsheets. I press my thumb to one of them, applying just enough pressure to cause Spencer’s breath to hitch. In another day or two, the purple and yellow discoloration would be gone, leaving no trace of our time together.

           I release my hold on his jaw and make a mental note to see to it that he has another set of pretty marks before the weekend is over.

           “Later?” I lift the hand that was splayed across his chest until I’m able to fiddle with the top button on his dress shirt. “You talk as if you have something else you’d like to do first. Care to share?”            Spencer squirms underneath my gaze, eyes flitting between my lips and where I’m pressed firmly against his erection. I watch him flounder to come up with a response before deciding to forgo words completely and rut himself against me, eyelids fluttering closed as he lets out a low whine.

           I click my tongue at him and raise up until my center hovers over him, torturously close but not quite close enough to touch.

           “What’s the matter, Doctor? It’s not like you to be at a loss for words,” I taunt as I pop open the last three buttons of his shirt. Now that the milky white skin of his chest is on full display, I waste no time in dragging my fingernails from his collarbone down to his navel, light and teasing. The action elicits a shiver from Spencer, who looks up at me with glossy eyes and blown pupils.

           “P-Please,” he stutters out.

           “Please, what?” I prod, cocking my head to the side. “Tell me what you want, baby.”

           Spencer’s tongue pokes out to run across his bottom lip.

           “I want you,” he breathes out, low and sultry. “Now. Don’t wanna wait.”

           I let out a pleased sigh as I lean forward to capture Spencer’s lips in a heated kiss. Spencer’s quick to reciprocate, eagerly licking into my mouth as soon as my lips brush against his.

           It’s not long until I feel the hands on my waist begin to tug me back down onto his lap, eliciting a giggle from me.

           “Such a needy little thing,” I murmur against his lips.

           Usually, a comment like this would be met by some sort of mumbled affirmation. But this time, as soon as the words leave my mouth, I feel Spencer’s whole body tense up beneath me.

           “Does… Does that bother you?”

           I pull away and give Spencer an inquisitive look.

           “Does what bother me?”

           Spencer averts his eyes, “That I’m so submissive.” He spits the word out like it burns his mouth – like it’s something to be ashamed of – and I can’t suppress my frown.

           “Why would that ever bother me?”

           Spencer gives a feeble shrug of his shoulders, still refusing to pull his gaze from where it rests on the floor.

           “I read an article in Psychology Today that discussed a survey in which 172 German adults completed a personality questionnaire and then measured their own preference for a dominant partner. Not only was the general consensus that both genders prefer dominant partners, the participants also agreed with statements like ‘a very nice partner is often boring’ and ‘I feel attracted to assertive partners.’ So, it’s only natural that you might get tired of me always being such a pushover and search for a more exciting partner than can keep you stimulated-”

           I clamp my hand down on Spencer’s mouth, effectively ending his self-deprecating rant and forcing him to look up from where his eyes were burning a hole into the floor. When I know he isn’t going to try and continue down that particularly awful train of thought, I remove my hand.

           “First of all, you are not a pushover. Insinuating that you are a pushover would also be insinuating that I’m taking advantage of you. Do you feel like I’m taking advantage of you?” Spencer’s eyes grow wide and he frantically shakes his head.

           “Absolutely not. I… I love what you do to me – with me. What we do together. I-I just want to be sure that you like it to. That you’re not just humoring me until someone who can actually give you what you want comes around.”

           I feel my mouth fall open from shock somewhere during the middle of his spiel. He can’t actually be so oblivious to the fact that I enjoy the hell out of our sex life, can he?

           Apparently, he can and he is, because Spencer takes my silence as affirmation.

           “I could try? To d-dom you, that is. I’ve been reading up on it and-”

           “Spencer, where on earth did this come from?”

           Spencer blinks hard, “I told you – I read it in Psychology Today.”

           I shake my head at him and slip off of his lap and onto the couch cushion beside him.

           “No, that’s not what I meant. What made you think that I’m not happy with our sex life?”

           “N-Nothing in particular,” Spencer stammers. “I just know that I’m not exactly the most masculine guy, and I want to make sure that you’re, you know… happy. With me.”

           And there it is.

           I reach for Spencer’s hand and link our fingers together.

           “This wouldn’t have anything to do with that comment Derek made this morning, would it?” Spencer doesn’t answer, but the way his eyes drop to his lap tells me everything I need to know. I tighten my grip on his hand. “You know he was just messing with you, right? As out of line as it was, he was just being… Derek.”

           “He wasn’t wrong, though. I am extremely docile – along with a litany of other very passive traits. I’m not strong or assertive or confident like Derek; I’m basically the complete opposite of the ideal male partner. All I’m good for is spouting out information that’s only sometimes useful. No wonder you don’t want to-” Spencer clamps his mouth shut and his cheeks burn red. “Forget it. C-Can we pretend this conversation never happened?”

           “No wonder I don’t want to what?” I prod, brows furrowed in confusion. But still, Spencer refuses to meet my eyes. “And as far as all the other stuff goes, it doesn’t matter if you’re assertive or strong. I prefer my sweet, gentle boy over guys like Derek Morgan, any day. My ideal male partner just so happens to be pretty boys with curly brown hair and massive IQs, not aggressive alpha males with overinflated egos.” I bring Spencer’s hand up to my lips and place a gentle kiss on his knuckles. “I’m being serious, Spence. There’s a lot to love about you.”

           Spencer’s next words are hushed, so quiet that I almost don’t hear him when he says, “Then why haven’t you told anyone about us yet?”

           In the two months since our first time together, neither of us had been brave enough to broach the subject of what exactly we were doing. With neither of us quite sure how to go about defining the relationship, we’d fallen into a sort of routine. Whenever it came time to pair off for the night and retreat to our hotel rooms, Spencer and I always made sure that we were paired together. Hotch never seemed to care – he was just happy that we weren’t walking on eggshells around each other anymore - and the others were kind enough to keep their suspicions to themselves. On the weekends, or really any time that we weren’t working a case, time off was spent in each other’s company, be it at Spencer’s place or mine. Days full of impromptu adventures to farmer’s markets and niche antique shops devolved into passionate nights spent learning every inch of each other’s skin until no stone was left unturned. It was the perfect arrangement.

           Or at least it would’ve been, if Spencer and I hadn’t managed to fall half way in love somewhere along the way. It was glaringly obvious early on that it was way more than just sexual chemistry that kept us both coming back for more, but owning up to that fact was a whole other issue that neither of us was ready to deal with.

           Until now, apparently.

           “I-I mean, we haven’t talked about what exactly this is, so I wasn’t quite sure how to go about that,” I stammer. “But now that you’ve brought it up…”

           Spencer finally looks up and his eyes are filled to the brim with equal parts fear and hope.

           “I-I really want there to be an us,” he whispers. “I kind of thought that much was obvious.”

           “And I thought the fact that I have absolutely zero complaints in the bedroom was obvious, but here we are,” I tease, and Spencer lets out an involuntary giggle when I poke at his side. “I want there to be an us, too. And for what it’s worth, I like you just the way you are, Spencer Reid - just so we’re clear.”

           “Really?” Spencer persists. From anyone else, it would seem like they were fishing for compliments, but from Spencer? I knew my sweet, darling boy just needed some reassurance.

           I lean forward and capture his lips in a long, languid kiss.

           “Really really,” I mumble when I pull away. “Have I done a thorough enough job drilling that into your head, or do you need some more convincing?”

           “More convincing,” Spencer replies as he ducks in for another kiss. “Lots and lots of convincing.”

           I smile against his lips, “That’s good to hear, because I sorta had a little something special planned for you.”

           “Something special?”

           I slide my hand from its place on his knee until my fingers glide across the tip of his clothed cock.

           “Remember that thing we talked about last week?”

           I can feel the way Spencer’s cock twitches under my hand and I have to bite back a smile.

           “Y-Yeah?”

           I give his bulge a light squeeze that has Spencer moaning low in his throat.

           “Only if you want to. There’s no pressure at all. I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with. I’d be perfectly fine if you just wanna watch that movie and cuddle a bit - you know that right?”

           “Yes, but I still want to,” Spencer chokes out. “Very, very much.” And then he’s bringing a hand up to cup my face before slotting our lips together again.

           The kiss is sloppy, seeing as we’re both much too excited to worry about being precise. Spencer spends time exploring my body with his free hand, starting at my hips and then dipping underneath my t-shirt. Spencer’s hand is just shy of skimming over my bra when I pull back and he lets out a frustrated whine when I pull his hands off of me.

           “I wanna ask you a few things before we do this, okay, baby?” Spencer flushes a deep crimson as he nods. “Have you ever experimented with any sort of anal play before?”

           “N-No, I haven’t. Is that okay?”

           Spencer Reid, you are going to be the death of me.

           “That’s perfectly fine, sweet boy,” I coo. “I’m just trying to get a feel for what’s going to be the most comfortable for you. We’ll start small and work our way up, okay?” Spencer nods, prompting me to tack on an, “Assuming that you want to, that is. This is all on your terms, and I need to make sure that you know that nothing’s going to happen that you don’t expressly consent to first.”

           Spencer’s lips pull up into a sweet smile.

           “I know, and I trust you,” he says. “And I consent to it. To all of it.”

           “You’re gonna have to be a little bit more specific than that,” I chuckle. “What exactly are you consenting to?”

           Spencer shifts in his seat, “Y-You know.”

           “Yes, but I want to hear you say it, baby.”

           Spencer gulps hard, “I-I want you to fuck me. Please.”

           I let out a satisfied hum and remove my hand from Spencer’s lap.

           “I want you to go to the bedroom and take off all your clothes. Then I want you to lie in the center of the bed and if I walk in and see you touching yourself, I’ll walk right back out and I won’t touch you for a month. Are we clear?”

           “Y-Yes, Miss.”

--

           I spend much longer than necessary in the living room, sitting on the couch and scrolling through my phone for nearly ten minutes before getting up and making my way to the bedroom. The anticipation is half of the fun, in my opinion, and I take great pleasure in imagining Spencer squirming against the sheets, desperate for me to walk through that door.

           I rid myself of my skirt and blouse as I make my way down the hallway, leaving me in only my panties and bralette. I can hear Spencer’s heavy breathing before I even reach the bedroom, and it makes my stomach flip excitedly as I push open the door.

           Spencer lays in the middle of the bed, hands grabbing at the sheets as he rolls his hips in vain. His cock stands painfully hard, leaking precum and bobbing up and down with every motion of his hips. Spencer doesn’t see or hear me when I come in – his eyes are closed tight and his bottom lip is nestled between his teeth, blissfully oblivious as he ruts up into nothing.

           “It seems like my poor, needy boy has worked himself up into quite a state.”

           The sound of my voice startles him and he immediately halts the movement of his hips. Spencer’s eyes watch on and I walk over to the night stand, taking my time as I remove a bottle of lube, my harness, and the newly purchased dildo bought especially for my sweet boy.

           Spencer’s eyes linger on the silicone member, wide and curious as I set the items on the bed and crawl in between his legs. He spreads his legs without being prompted, leaving him completely exposed to me, and the action makes my heart swell with pride. My good boy has learned so much in the past two months.

           “M’gonna suck that pretty cock of yours now, and I want you to keep your hips still. Can you do that for me, baby?”

           Spencer nods frantically, “Y-Yes, Miss. Please – I need your mouth. I’ll be still, I promise.”

           I let out a pleased hum as I take him into my hand, dragging my fist up and down, spreading precum across the entirety of his length.

           “I know you will, baby. You’re always so good for me. So eager to please.”

           I lean down and begin placing kisses to the sensitive skin of his thighs, all while continuing to work my hand against him. I nip lightly at the skin above his right hip and Spencer sucks in a ragged breath when I suck a pretty purple bruise in the very same spot. It contrasts starkly with his porcelain skin, and I enjoy the way it looks so much that I continue until a plethora of love bites litter his inner thighs. When I finally sit back and admire my work, Spencer’s writhing so pitifully against the mattress that I decide to put him out of his misery.

           Spencer devolves into a whimpering mess the moment I take his tip into my mouth, his head thrashing wildly against the mattress when I swirl my tongue around him. I take my time with him, not at all rushing my descent onto his cock, choosing instead to tease him with a slow, steady pace. If Spencer minded my slower than usual pace, he didn’t say so. He was too busy choking out an unrelenting string of the most wanton moans I’d ever heard as he watched himself disappear into my mouth.

           I decide now is as good a time as any to up the ante and I pull my mouth away from him.

           “W-Why did you stop?” Spencer stutters, chest heaving up and down.

           I raise an eyebrow at him, “Are you being ungrateful, Doctor? Because if you are, I could always just leave you here like this - cock hard and leaky with no way to get off other than your own hand. That wouldn’t be nearly as fun as having me fuck that pretty little ass of yours.”

           “No, please! I’m so sorry,” Spencer mewls. “I’ll be good, just please don’t leave!”

            I loosely grasp Spencer’s cock in my hand and run my thumb across his slit.

           “You sound so pretty when you beg, baby. I can’t wait to hear how pretty you are when you’re begging for me to fuck you harder.”

           Spencer’s eyes roll back into his head and his mouth hangs open, panting hard.

           “I want it so bad. Please, please, please, Miss.”

           I use my free hand to reach up and push two fingers into Spencer’s mouth, “Suck. I want them real nice and wet so that I can use them to get you ready for me.”

           Spencer moans around my fingers, laving his tongue around the them as he hollows his cheeks. When I retract my fingers from his mouth they’re practically dripping and I reward his effort by tightening my grip on his cock.

           “Good job, baby. Are you ready for me to finger that tight little hole of yours?” I ask him as I release his cock and grab the bottle of lube. I drizzle a healthy amount onto my fingers before dragging one across his puckered hole, eliciting a high-pitched cry from Spencer.

           “Yes!” Spencer gasps as he attempts to wiggle closer. “So ready for you, Miss. Use your f-fingers on me, please!”

           I start by slowly pressing one in, so as not to overwhelm him, and to my endless delight, it glides in almost effortlessly.

           “Already so ready for my fingers, Doctor. You sure you haven’t touched yourself here before?” I ask as I begin to work my finger in and out in slow thrusts.

           “N-Never. O-Only you,” Spencer stutters out between moans. “C-Can you add another, Miss?”

           I pull my finger out, only to add another and resume my efforts at a slightly faster pace. Spencer’s back arches up off the bed when my fingers brush against his prostate and he lets out a half startled, half delighted yelp.

           “Oh fuck!” Spencer moans as he grinds down onto my fingers. “Again, please, Miss!”

I comply, and with every press of my fingers against the fleshy bundle of tissue, Spencer’s body jolts from the sensation.

           “S’that feel good, baby? Do you like how my fingers feel?”

           “Oh, God, yes! F-Feels so good. Never felt like this b-before,” Spencer sobs. “I-I’m getting close, Miss.”

           “I didn’t say that you can cum, baby. I wanna save that for when I’ve got my cock buried inside you. How’s that sound?”

           “Y-Yes, Iwantitsobad,” Spencer slurs, his words running together as he draws nearer and near to the end. “Want you to fuck me, Miss! Please, I’ll do anything-”

           I take pity on him and withdraw my fingers, which makes Spencer keen in protest.

           “Calm down, greedy boy. Just gotta get ready so I can give you what you want.”

           I crawl off of the bed and step into the harness, fastening it in place and making sure that the dildo is secure before I crawl in between his legs. Spencer watches on with rapt fascination as I pour lube into my palm and work it over the silicone cock until every inch of it glistens.

           “What’s your color, baby?” I ask as rub the tip of the cock over his hole.

           Spencer’s breath catches in his throat and his whole-body tenses with anticipation.

           “So green, Miss. So fucking green,” Spencer whimpers.

           I raise a hand up to his hip and begin to rub soothing circles into the skin there.

           “Gonna need you to relax for me, sweetheart. Can you do that?”            Spencer bites his lip and nods his head. I watch as the tension begins to melt away, and when I see him relax back into the mattress, I bring up my hand to stroke his cock. I keep my touch light, barely applying pressure – I knew if I applied too much, Spencer wouldn’t be able to hold out longer than a few thrusts. He was already teetering on the edge as it was.

           Mine and Spencer’s eyes meet and he smiles up at me, dopey and drunk from pleasure, and it’s all the permission I need. I press into him slowly, and I’m left in awe as I watch Spencer Reid completely unravel beneath me.

           “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Spencer curses, head flying back and hitting the pillows. It never ceases to amaze me at how fucking responsive he is, and tonight is no exception. It’s like his body is a live wire, trembling beautifully as I press in further and further and further. I stop just shy of being fully sheathed inside him, trying to allow him a moment to adjust, but Spencer seems to have other plans.

           “Keep going, Miss, don’t stop, please! I want all of it, please give it to me! I can take it, please let me show you!”

           He looks up at me and those beautiful brown eyes are so wild, so positively feral that I can’t even entertain the idea of denying him any longer.

           Spencer looks positively ruined by the time I bottom out inside him. His hair sticks to the sheen of sweat that gathers on his forehead, and his lips look positively abused from the way he’s been biting down on them. His eyelids flutter closed every few seconds, and every time he blinks them back open, I’m able to see that his pupils are so blown that his eyes look almost black.

           I pull back until all that’s left inside him is the very tip of the cock, and just as he opens that bratty little mouth to beg for more, I give particularly harsh thrust of my hips until I’m fully sheathed inside him. Spencer lets out a surprised cry as I set an unforgiving pace, all the while still loosely jerking him off as I bury myself inside him again and again and again.

           “Yes, yes, yes, yes!” Spencer chants loudly, face contorted beautifully in an expression of pure ecstasy. I spare a brief thought to Spencer’s poor neighbors and make mental note to invest in a ball gag.

           “S’that feel good, baby? You look so pretty taking my cock like the good boy you are. My pretty little cock slut. Such a shame nobody’s fucked you like this before,” I hum as I focus my attention on the head of his cock, thumbing lightly at where he leaks for me.

           “D-Don’t want anyone else, just wanna be good for y-you. Wanna m-make you proud,” Spencer whines, tripping over his words as he struggles to form a coherent sentence. The sentiment sends a jolt of heat down to my already soaking core, but I do my best to ignore the slickness running down my thighs for the time being. Right now, my only focus is the boy chanting my name, praying for a type of salvation that only I can give him.

           I smile down at him and my hand drifts lower to where I’m steadily thrusting in and out of him. Spencer’s body jolts as the pad of my thumb brushes against the sensitive skin of his hole.

           “Of course, I’m proud of you. Look at how well you’re taking me, baby. It’s like you were made to take my cock,” I praise him.

           My words, mixed with the way I’m working both Spencer’s cock and his tight little ass, seem to be getting the better of him, because Spencer doesn’t even try to formulate a response. He just continues to let out strangled moans that almost sound like sobs as his hands grasp at the sheets until his knuckles turn white.

           It doesn’t take long until I feel the muscles in Spencer’s stomach and thighs begin to tense, and when his cock twitches in my hand I can tell Spencer won’t last much longer.

           “Are you gonna cum for me, baby?” I ask him as I grind my hips against his, and Spencer’s reply comes in the form of an incoherent, garbled moan.

           “What’s the matter, baby? Have I fucked you so stupid that you can’t answer me anymore?” I taunt him. I use the leverage I have from the hand placed on his hip to propel myself deeper. “Is my poor dumb baby incapable of replying?”

           Spencer makes a feeble attempt at a reply, “P-Please let me – f-fuck – cum! Oh, God, m’socloseMiss. Harder, please!”

           I take a minute to bask in the way he’s completely fallen apart at my hands - relishing in the way his eyes are glossy and dark with lust, in the way that his chest is flushed a deep red, and in the way that precum beads at the tip of his cock, aching for a release. He looks beautiful like this, whining and squirming, hips grinding down in search of more, more, more. I’d never imagined in a million years that I’d be so lucky as to see the illustrious Spencer Reid fucked absolutely senseless, but here he was, waiting for my permission to throw himself off the edge and into the best kind of oblivion.

           “Cum for me, pretty boy,” I say in the softest voice imaginable. “Show me how good you are.”

           The tension that had been steadily building since the first press of my lips against his snaps in an instant, and copious amounts of cum spurt out from his cock, painting his chest in thick, white ropes. Spencer chants out muddled thank yous as I fuck him through his release, pushing in and out of him in shallow strokes as slowly comes back down from the high.

           When his breathing slows down to a normal rate, I pull out of him, quickly freeing myself from the harness and tossing it aside to be dealt with later. I crawl up until I’m at eye level and begin pressing soft, sweet kisses to Spencer’s face.

           “You did so well, Spence,” I murmur against his skin. “You’re amazing, baby. Thank you so much for trusting me to be with you like that.”

           Spencer lifts a shaky hand to my hair and pulls me down into a heated kiss. I indulge him and pour every ounce of passion I have into my efforts, hoping to express my gratitude with every swipe of my lips against his. And when I pull away, my pretty boy smiles up at me, sated and full of adoration, and it’s beautiful.

           “D’you think you can handle taking a shower with me?” I ask as I pull away, and Spencer gives a shy nod in response. He sits up in the bed and swings his legs until his feet hit the floor. I’m just about to stand when his hand comes down on my wrist to stop me.

           “What about you? You didn’t . . .”

           “Don’t worry about me, sweetheart. Tonight was all about you.”

           I move off of the bed and help him to his feet, holding him steady when his legs begin to shake. “Might be a little sore for a while, but it should go away within a day or so.”

           I help him to the bathroom and turn on the shower, and when it’s warm enough I rid myself of my bra and panties and motion for him to join me. I urge Spencer to step under the spray first, but his arms snake around me and pull me with him.

           Spencer nuzzles his nose into the crook of my neck and he lets out a deep sigh.

           “You okay, bubs?” I ask him as I tangle my arms around his torso and begin to rub soothing circles into his back.

           “I just feel a little… down? I-Is this a sub drop? I read a little bit about them, but I don’t k-know…” he trails off, sniffling pitifully against my neck. “I-I just know that I want to hold you. Is that o-okay?”

           My heart lurches painfully in my chest as his voice wavers, and I pull back just enough that I can look into his weary eyes.

           “Baby, that’s more than okay. Sub drops are a perfectly normal thing to experience, and I’ll be right here to hold you for as long as you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

           Spencer’s eyes fill with tears and he makes no attempt to hold them back, choosing to let them fall freely and mix in with the water pouring from the shower head.

           “T-Tell me you want me,” Spencer begs, lip wobbling pitifully. “I-I just feel like I’m not good enough for you, and I know it’s all in my head, and I know how you feel about me, but I just think it would help if you just… s-said it. Please?”

           I feel my heart break for the man that stood before me. The implication his words carry - that this wonderful, kind-hearted, extraordinarily gifted man could ever think so little of himself – was enough to bring tears to my own eyes. I swallow down the lump that forms in my throat and, with all the sincerity I can possibly muster, I reply.

           “I want you, Spencer Reid. I don’t want anyone else – only you,” I tell him, never once breaking eye contact. “For as long as you’ll have me, I’m yours.”

           Spencer chokes out a weak laugh, “And if I want you forever?”

           I nudge his nose with my own, and the act feels almost more intimate than everything that preceded it.

           “Then forever, it is,” I murmur. I press a chaste kiss to his lips before pulling away and reaching for the shampoo. “Now, turn around, pretty boy. Let me pamper you.”

--

           “Y/N!” Penelope calls out, sauntering over to me in a flash of hot pink taffeta. I’m in the middle of throwing my satchel over my shoulder when she runs up to me, excited smile on her face. “Me, you, JJ, Elle, and a bottle of tequila. You in?”

           On a normal day, the answer would have been a resounding hell yes. But today? I let my eyes wander over to where Spencer lingers near the glass doors, trying to look like he isn’t listening in. Very subtle.

           “I’m gonna have to pass on this one, Penelope.”

           Penelope’s smile transforms into a pout.

           “This is the third weekend in a row you’ve ditched us!” she whines, stomping her kitten heeled foot like a petulant child. “Either you’re avoiding us or you’ve got some secret lover we don’t know about. And if that’s the case, then we have a whole other problem, because that’s the kind of thing I expect to be told about immediately.”

           The giddy smile that stretches across my face gives me away before I even have the chance to open my mouth, sending Penelope into an absolute frenzy.

           “Oh my God, I cannot believe this. We’ll talk about how angry I am about being kept in the dark later because right now, I need details,” Penelope gushes. “Who is he? Where did you two meet? Is he hot?” Penelope barely gets the words out before she’s shaking her head. “Wait, that’s a dumb question. Of course, he’s hot - just look at you. Do I know him? When do I get to meet him?”

           I can’t help but laugh at Penelope’s enthusiasm.

           “Slow down, Pen,” I chuckle. “I didn’t tell you about it because it’s still relatively new, and it wasn’t until this past weekend that we finally decided to put a label on it.”

           “A label? Does that mean this guy is your boyfriend? Oh my God, I thought this day would never come,” Penelope sighs dreamily. But the far-away look in her eye quickly fades and Penelope begins to grill me with renewed fervor. “Y/N, you have to tell me who it is. It’s like, practically a crime that I’m only just now hearing about this, so you owe me this much. And I’ll be needing his first and last name, along with a DOB so that I can run a full back ground check ASAP. Don’t even try to talk me out of it – we deal with enough freakiness during our day jobs, and I insist on making sure the freakiness ends there.”

           I can feel a flush spread over my cheeks and I fiddle with the strap of my bag.

           “I, uh, don’t think a background check is going to be necessary. You know this guy pretty well already.”

           If Penelope had been worked up before, she was practically vibrating with excitement now.

           “I know him? Oh my God, this is so huge. Is it Brendon from down in sex crimes? Or maybe James from counter-terrorism?” Penelope muses aloud, before her eyes go almost comically wide. “Holy hell, it’s Anderson, isn’t it?”

           “It definitely isn’t Anderson, or any of the others, for that matter,” I laugh. “Do you want a hint?”

           “What I really want is for you to just tell me, but if you insist on dragging this out then yes, I would very much like a hint!”

           I cut my eyes over to where Spencer stands, and it’s impossible to miss the giddy grin on his face. So much for trying to remain subtle, Doctor Reid.

           I fake like I’m looking around for anyone within earshot before motioning for Penelope to lean in. She’s quick to comply, and I do one last exaggerated sweep of the room.

           “Alright then, here’s your hint,” I whisper into her ear. “He’s got an IQ of 187, and he’s a pretty kickass magician.”

           I lean back and adjust the strap of my bag, sparing one last, parting glance at Penelope, whose jaw is practically on the floor.

           “See you on Monday, Pen.”

           “W-Wait, are you serious?” Penelope calls out after me. “Reid is your mystery man?! Y/N, get back here right now and explain yourself! Derek, did you hear that?!”

           By the time I reach Spencer, Penelope’s voice fades into background noise as I focus all my attention on the way he smiles down at me. I link my hand with his and I’m vaguely aware of an increase in volume coming from Penelope’s direction, but I ignore in favor of smiling back at him.

           “You ready to get out of here, boyfriend?”

           Spencer squeezes my hand in his and he nods.

           “Ready when you are, girlfriend.”

-

-

-

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[whatifyoulivelikethat]

heated, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: An (innocent?) conversation about D/s dynamics accidentally leads to you confessing that you think about your childhood best friend while getting off. To your childhood best friend, Jeon Jungkook. Erm. This is after he told you that you would be “an awful sub”, btw.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, discussions about adult topics; reader is bisexual; smut (fem reader, dry humping, fingering, [tiny bit] m-receiving oral, penetrative sex); fluffy af; non-idol!AU; F2L; softdom!Jungkook x softbrat!reader; you kind of have a forearm kink and you never let Jungkook have his lovey-dovey moment, whoops

MMA 2020 ‘ON’ Jungkook? Yeah. That one.

--

“I could never be a sub.”

You clicked rapidly as you spoke, mashing the right button on your mouse. It was quite loud, paired with your mechanical keyboard.

“Why not?”

The music coming from Jeon Jungkook’s smartphone was a rhythm game, nearly as loud as you, since he was grunting angrily at it. It was very obvious when he missed a beat.

“I can’t imagine that being me, you know?”

You, on the other hand, were on your computer, playing with the new items in League of Legends from the latest patch. Using the practice tool, you had loaded up your favorite champion, Jhin, the Virtuoso, and messed with various builds, trying to find the best combination. So far, Lethality was feeling pretty good.

“Like why would I ever let my pleasure be handled by someone else?” you mused, reading the high damage numbers of each shot. Oh, the fourth shot felt nice. “That sounds stupid.”

Jungkook rolled over on your bed, growling in his throat as the level ended. He restarted it, trying to get a better score. “Maybe people like to let go sometimes. You know, not always be in control.”

You snorted. “I could never trust someone else with my body.”

“You got an alien body or something?”

“Shut up, Jungkook.”

“No.”

“Fine.”

“Anyway,” Jungkook continued, ignoring your outburst. “I didn’t ask if you could be a sub, I just asked what you thought of domination and submission as a dynamic in general.”

You shrugged, trying to see if you could do Baron alone. Welp, you needed lifesteal, of course. “I mean, I’ve tried it in various situations. I was never the sub.”

“Kinky.”

“Shut up, Jungkook.”

“No.” Jungkook suddenly sat up, excited that he achieved a higher score. “Look, look. I got ninety-eight.”

You craned your head to look at his phone screen. “Why isn’t it one hundred? You’re a disgrace to this family.”

He bopped you on the nose with his phone. “If I was part of your family, your family would be even more dysfunctional than it is now.”

You rubbed your nose and looked up at him. “How much gel did you use in your hair? You look like a wet dog.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows went up and he touched his long black hair. “It’s not crunchy though.” He grabbed your hand and lowered his head, placing your palm on his slicked back hair. “See?”

You pulled your hand back, staring at your palm. “Still feels weird though. I call sorcery.”

He shrugged, creaking the black leather jacket he was wearing. He wore a black t-shirt under it. The black jeans he had been wearing were on your bed, swapped for the black joggers he kept at your place. You weren’t really sure why he left the jacket on. Maybe he was cold or something. It was pretty cold in your apartment. You were wearing fleece green pajamas with Pikachu all over them.

“You want me to turn the heat up?” you said, gesturing to his jacket.

Jungkook looked down at his chest. “Eh. It’s fine. Saves you money.”

You shrugged, getting up from your chair, leaving the League client open. “You’re only staying a little while, right? Party to go to and all that?”

Jungkook followed you as you left your room. “Told you it was cancelled, so I was just going to sleep over. No reason to go back home.”

You turned around, walking backwards. “When did you say it was cancelled?”

Jungkook raised his dark eyebrows. “Literally when I walked in your apartment.”

“Hah.”

You turned back around and went to your fridge, grabbing an aloe juice. Jungkook went to your water kettle, hunting for hot chocolate among your tea packets.

“You’d make an awful sub anyway,” Jungkook said, returning to the original subject as he filled the kettle with water from your filtered sink faucet. “Like, probably the fucking worst.”

You took a large swig and glared at him. “Alright, first of all, you wouldn’t even–”

“You’re terrible with authority.”

You paused. “Okay, true.”

“You’re angry, twenty-four, seven.”

You walked up to him and slapped him in his very hard pecs. He gestured at his chest, as if to indicate, exhibit A.

“And you’re super uptight.”

“I am not uptight.”

“Control freak.”

“That’s–”

Jungkook turned around and placed the kettle on its stand. You swooped in with a Pikachu-themed kitchen towel and wiped the excess water away, scowling. Jungkook raised his eyebrows at you, brown eyes laughing.

“That’s literally a safety hazard!” you exclaimed, waving the towel at him.

Jungkook rolled his eyes and pressed the button to start heating the water. “Haven’t you ever just… not freaked out over every little thing? Done something spontaneous and stupid?”

You placed the kitchen towel back in its proper place. “No, because that would be spontaneous and stupid, Jeon Jungkook.”

He leaned against the counter, watching you perfectly fold the towel into three parts and hang it on the rail. He scratched his nose, shaking his head. “You should be more like me.”

“Having the police called on you because you were standing on a lawn chair tooting a party horn at four in the morning?”

“That was one time! Stop bringing it up,” Jungkook groaned.

You raised your hands in innocence. “Well, I was the one called to pick you up because you literally couldn’t remember any other number and I was very disturbed on New Year’s Eve, where I should have been peacefully sleeping and not hauling your drunk ass across town.”

Jungkook sighed exaggeratedly. “I’m sorry, okay? I won’t drink that much again. Jimin made me do shots–”

“You always blame Park Jimin,” you interjected, smiling. “Jimin’s the kind of guy who only wears clothes to take them off.”

“Well, it gets him laid, so I guess it’s working.”

The kettle whistled noisily, cutting through the conversation. You took a sip from your aloe juice as Jungkook grabbed a mug from your cupboard and poured the hot chocolate powder into it.

“You want some milk?”

He looked up. “You have milk?”

You went to the fridge and took out a small carton. “Because you said you were coming.”

“Aw, what a sweetie.”

“Shut up, Jungkook.”

“No.”

That’s how it was with you two. Growing up together was the same conversation over and over of you constantly saying shut up and Jungkook always replying with no. If both your dads hadn’t been such good friends, you probably wouldn’t have been able to tolerate him. Since they were, you were forced to, which turned out to be okay, since it turned out you had similar interests in games and such. It drifted apart a bit when you two entered high school, but you two reconnected once university started.

The dysfunctionality Jungkook was referring to was your two older sisters, who both got pregnant out of wedlock and thus caused a lot of tension between them, your parents, and you, the one who hadn’t actually done that yet. And you were trying to keep it that way.

Jungkook poured half-water and half-milk, stirring it with a silver spoon he found in your drawer. You lived alone, having gotten a full scholarship to be able to pay for tuition, meals, and part of a small apartment. Your parents paid for the rest – another point of strain between you and your sisters. That’s why you kept your grades up and rarely went out.

“When was the last time you fucked a guy?”

You sucked the inside of your cheek. “Dunno. Maybe two years ago.”

Jungkook raised his eyebrows and took a long sip. “So, only girls, huh?”

You tilted your head and sighed. “They don’t get you pregnant.”

“Neither does a condom.”

“That’s a ninety-eight percent chance, not one hundred.”

He licked the excess off his pink lips. He looked like he wanted to say something, but reconsidered, taking another sip before replying. “You don’t miss dick?”

“I mean, a dildo is a dick.”

Jungkook nearly spat out his hot chocolate. You snatched your Pikachu towel again and threatened him with it. He raised a hand, coughing.

“A dildo is not a dick,” he hacked out. “You insult me.”

“Hmph.” You turned back around and placed the Pikachu towel back in its place, making sure the graphic was perfectly centered.

“You tell your parents?”

You narrowed your eyes. ‘Why the fuck would I tell my parents that I fuck girls instead of guys to avoid getting pregnant?”

He shrugged. “Give them peace of mind?”

“You think too highly of the generation before us.”

Jungkook gave you a weird look. “So… you’re just using them?”

“No.” You paused. “Okay, maybe a little, but it’s not because they’re girls. I guess I haven’t found someone who understands me yet.”

He took a long, noisy sip of hot chocolate. You narrowed your eyes at him.

“No one can understand you if you only fuck once and drop them.”

“Wouldn’t you fucking know,” you replied irritably.

“Now, I fuck multiple times before I realize it’s not going to work out,” Jungkook countered.

You shoved your bottle of aloe juice back into your fridge. Suddenly, you weren’t thirsty anymore.

“Is that the only reason?”

You closed the fridge door.

“Reason for what?”

“Is fear of pregnancy the only reason you fuck girls?”

“I don’t know!” you shouted, throwing your hands up. You spun around, blowing hot air. “I don’t fucking know why I do it, Jungkook. I don’t know why I load up dating apps to only hook up with girls, I don’t know why I don’t try to get into relationships with them, I don’t know what is wrong with me and why I can’t give anyone a chance and I don’t know why you pop up in my head every time I try to fucking masturbate! It is annoying and I do not like it, so I try to get off with someone else!”

Your chest was heaving with exertion and annoyance, hand curled onto a fist and planted on your kitchen counter, glaring at the space past Jungkook’s head, muscle twitching in your cheek. Your heart was beating so fast it didn’t feel real.

Silence.

“Fuck you, Jungkook.”

And then you turned around, stalking back to your bedroom.

Or would have, if you didn’t hear the clink of the mug touching the kitchen counter and Jungkook grabbing your upper arm, yanking you back, slamming you against his muscular body. You hissed, staring into his chest.

“Let me go.”

“Hold on a second.” You watched Jungkook take a deep breath, his toned, tan skin rising and falling. The silver necklace on his collarbones flashed as he breathed. “Just hold on a damn second.”

Your eyes were on the low neckline of his black shirt. It felt weird being close to him. Not that you two haven’t been physically close, because you had. But it had never been like this. Since you realized he wouldn’t leave your mind every time you tried to masturbate. Since you started looking to other people to push him out. Since you were sure that it was not just a passing thought, not just your brain playing tricks on you. And being this close to him now, you understood.

And it scared you.

“You cannot dump all that on me and expect me not to react,” Jungkook said quietly.

“Shut up, Jungkook.”

“No,” he snapped. He grabbed both your upper arms and shook you violently, making you jerk your head up to blink at him. Jungkook furrowed his brows, his dark eyes glaring at you, jaw clenched tightly. “I will not shut up. Why should I shut up? I should shut you up.”

And then he kissed you.

Your eyes widened. Jungkook’s pink lips were on you. You. On your lips, pressed firmly against them, gripping you so tight you were losing feeling in your arms. You tore back, stumbling, touching your lips, shoulders shaking, not sure why your heart was beating out of your chest, not sure why your lips tingled and wanted more, not sure why Jungkook slowly opening his eyes and flickering to you made your knees knock together uncomfortably.

“What are you doing?” you sputtered. “You don’t even… what…?”

“I’m kissing you,” he growled, walking up to you and pinning you against the counter. “I’m fucking kissing you because you want me to.”

“I don’t…”

“Just shut up, please.”

And then Jungkook kissed you again, harder this time, pressing you against the kitchen counter, hands coming up and taking you by the waist, pulling you to him and his leather jacket, him and his black shirt, breathing your name into your lips, your hands grabbing his t-shirt and yanking him to you, gasping into his mouth. And you wanted to say, no, no, you weren’t supposed to know, but it was too late because you were shoving his leather jacket off, grasping his shoulders, fingers pressing into his hard muscles, sliding down his biceps.

You yanked your head back and his hand came up to grab it back, kissing you more, more, tongue licking your lips, hissing your name, grinding his hips against yours. Your hand came up in between you two, stopping him, stopping him and his insatiable lips.

“You have to s-say–” You moaned, feeling him harden against your fleece pajamas. “You have to say it.”

“Say what?” Jungkook muttered impatiently, kissing your hand, speaking into your palm.

“Say you’re okay with it,” you gritted out as he rolled his crotch into yours.

“Obviously I’m okay with it,” he grumbled. “Why else am I humping you in your kitchen?”

“You said I’m a c-control freak,” you groaned, throwing your head back as Jungkook slid his hands down to your ass and squeezed it, grinding against you.

“You are,” he grunted. “You can’t let go, you can’t enjoy yourself, you can’t even tell me you like me so I can fucking fuck you already, instead of me cancelling my parties so I can spend time laying on your bed and staring at you playing video games wondering when you’re going to fucking notice that I want to bang you.”

“What?” you replied breathlessly.

Jungkook rolled his eyes. “You’re so busy controlling your own life that you don’t even notice the people around you anymore.”

“What?” you repeated again as Jungkook hoisted you up by your ass and began to walk, forcing you to grab him by the shoulders and stare down his right arm, the fully tattooed one with flowers and script and the tiny circle with angry slits for eyes and a frown on the inside of his elbow, the one Jungkook said was for you and you had slapped him in the chest and told him to shut up.

“Let me take over for once,” he mumbled, placing his chin on your shoulder and nudging you with his head and his non-crispy but still not quite soft dark hair.

“You said I would be an awful sub.”

Jungkook dumped you on the bed, shooing you upwards. You didn’t move, frowning at him. He sighed dramatically.

“You would. You are,” he corrected, planting a hand on your chest and pushing you down, bouncing you against your Pikachu bedsheets. He sandwiched your arms at your sides and straddled your torso. The bed bowed far too low and you almost slid off. Hurriedly, you scooted upwards and Jungkook followed, unbothered.

“You said I’m terrible with authority.”

Jungkook wrestled your arms back down and pinned them with his strong thighs. “You are.”

“You said I’m angry, twenty-four, seven.”

He cocked his head, slowly unbuttoning your pajama shirt. “Still true.”

“And you said I’m uptight,” you added ruefully, pouting.

Jungkook shrugged, reaching in between his legs to unbutton he last few ones. “I’ll fuck it out of you.”

“Jungkook!”

“What?”

He paused, towering above you, eyebrow raised. His black hair curled around his ears, against his silver hoops and base of his neck. His dark eyes pierced down at you, tiny mole under his lips clearly visible from this position. You could see the bottom of his sharp chin, the black t-shirt clinging to his chest, the shape of his tan arms, one tattooed, one not, from below.

“Y-you’re pinching my right arm…”

Jungkook looked down, moving his left leg. “Sorry.”

You winced, pulling out your left arm to rub the other. He tapped your forearm impatiently with his finger.

“You’re ruining the moment,” he scolded.

“You ruined it by bruising me,” you shot back, backing up to your pillows on your elbows, grimacing as you soothed your arm.

“I’m going to bruise you more if you keep being a little brat,” Jungkook growled, following you on hands and knees, the neckline of his t-shirt hanging down, revealing way too much of his skin. Your eyes widened and you slipped, a white plush Poro bonking you in the head. He grabbed it and tossed it aside, the poor guy rolling on the floor.

“That’s very rude,” you muttered, but he was over your body now, breathing hard, staring down your now open shirt and the curve of your breasts into your black bra.

“Why do you get hotter every year?”

You raised an eyebrow. “I… don’t?”

Jungkook shoved the sides of your pajama shirt apart impatiently, reaching under your back and pinching the bra clasp, undoing it with one hand.

“Yes, you do,” he exhaled hotly. “Every year you get prettier and prettier and it pisses me off so much that I have to work out to look half as good as you.”

You felt your ears and cheeks get hot. “Well… you do look very, erm, good.”

“You’re very convincing,” Jungkook chuckled darkly, pushing your bra up and sucking in his lower lip as he revealed your hard, quivering nipples.

Your eyes shifted away from his hungry eyes. “I, uh… am very wet.”

A single, perfectly shaped eyebrow ticked. “Show me.”

“Um…”

He lifted himself off you, pointing down.

“Show me,” Jungkook commanded.

You tried to move your arms and found them tangled in your clothes. You frowned and shrugged out of your pajama shirt, chucking it and your bra aside, before gripping the waistband of your green fleece pants. You hesitated and looked back at Jungkook, who just flapped his hand downwards, giving you a neutral expression.

You puffed your cheeks and raised your hips, yanking your pants and panties down your thighs. You had to bend your legs a bit to fully take them off since Jungkook’s knees were on the outside of your thighs.

Now you were fully naked in front of your childhood best friend. And he was still fully clothed.

“Er, aren’t you going to–”

Jungkook cut you off. “You still haven’t shown me.”

You blinked at him. “What do you want me to do, become a fucking pretzel?”

Jungkook shrugged. “Any way you can prove to me you’re wet.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Fucking…” You bent your right leg and slid it up between his thighs, brushing against his sweatpants and feeling his hard-on for a hot second before you jammed your leg into your chest and lifted it out, pressing your thigh against your torso and raising your calf into the air. You turned your head to the left, letting out an exasperated huff.

“There. You see it?”

Shit, this position was embarrassing for some reason. You could feel cold air on your dripping pussy. Maybe he couldn’t see or something. You lifted your right arm to wrap around your thigh, pressing it down against your breasts since Jungkook wasn’t saying anything.

“That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” Jungkook breathed.

“Okay, going to put my leg do–”

You gasped, suddenly feeling Jungkook’s fingertips touch your heated core, smearing your juices around the lips, his hot breath against your ear as he touched you. You shuddered as he stroked your folds, your name on his lips, his lips kissing your ear.

“Had to touch you,” he whispered against your neck, tone desperate. “I’m sorry, I just had to touch that beautiful pussy, all wet and slopping for me.”

Your eyelids fluttered as his middle finger found your clit, pressing on it. “J-Jungkook… That’s my…”

He chuckled deep in his throat. “Yeah? That’s your what?”

Slow, lazy circles, pushing it around, moan leaving your lips. “My c-clit…”

“Want me to touch it?” Jungkook purred. “Want me to handle your pleasure?”

But he as already touching it, nursing the sensitive bundle of nerves and rousing your lust, igniting it and setting it on fire.

“Y-yes…”

He kissed down your neck, whispering softly, licking your collarbones. “You trust me? You trust me with this pretty, perfect, hot, sexy, fuckable body?”

You arched your neck, giving him more access as he ran his pink lips all over, rubbing your clit, mouth on your throat. Your whole body shook, hips rolling into his finger.

“Y-yes…”

His breath so electrifying that you could barely focus, barely speak as Jungkook’s other hand came up behind your head, long fingers burying into your hair, holding tight, so tight it almost hurt, teeth nipping at your skin.

“Want to mark you,” he mumbled. “Want to give you a big fat hickey you can’t explain, want to bruise you so bad you’ll be staring at it for weeks, thinking about my lips on you, remembering my teeth gave you that.”

He pressed another finger to your clit, increasing the pace, and all you could do was hiss out a yes, a burning yes, a pleading yes, please, Jungkook, whining as his teeth sank into the spot where your shoulder and neck connected, sucking hard, his tongue licking away the prickling pain. His hips rolled into your thigh, his hard cock pressing against you, straining against his pants.

Jungkook moaned into your skin, so hot, so intense, rubbing your aching clit faster, harder, more urgently. Sucking and humping your leg as the feeling of his teeth and his fingers overwhelmed you, one hand clutching his shirt and one hand curled into your sheets as your thighs shook, trying to close but unable to because Jungkook was so strong, so there, so overpowering that you could only lay there and take it, take it as his name poured out of you in a breathless wail, throwing your head back as you felt your pussy clench around nothing, your juices becoming slicker, thicker, the scent of your orgasm staining the air.

He shoved the two fingers inside you and unlatched his mouth, moaning with you as he felt you squeeze his fingers, pumping you in long, slow strokes, all the way to his knuckles. You whimpered, tightening your core and Jungkook moaned again, eyes closed, his hair in disarray as you fucked his hand, clamping your hands on his right forearm, gasping at the feel of his muscle. Pussy throbbing around his fingers, hips meeting his knuckles over and over.

His eyes opened, watching your fuck yourself with his hand, an almost bored expression on his features, but you didn’t care because you felt him flex his fingers and his arm, telling you to continue, telling you he liked it.

“I thought you were going to let me do it.” Jungkook’s voice was low, trying to stay even despite his shallow breathing. “Have to control everything, don’t you?”

You caught your lower lip in your teeth, eyes moving to his face, his handsome, angular face with his black hair curled around his forehead and his cocked eyebrow, smirk on his lips.

“I’m not in control,” you panted. “Your forearm is…”

Jungkook flexed it under your hand and you moaned pathetically, breath hitching.

His smirk grew wider.

“It’s getting you off touching it.”

You swallowed, close, so close and Jungkook was taunting you and for some reason you couldn’t tell him to shut up, because he kept tensing his arm and it was so fucking hot that you really were going to orgasm.

“Say it,” he purred, breathing your name. “Tell me you like my forearm.”

Your eyes shifted down to his arm in your hands, the tiny angry face tattoo in his inner elbow frowning at you.

“I fucking love it, Jungkook,” you gasped. “Fuck, I love your delicious, sexy-as-fuck forearms.”

He grinned and began to thrust his fingers into you, fast, so fast you couldn’t even fathom how he could be that fast like a fucking vibrator, sending torrents of pleasure through you and his arm was so hard and his skin so soft that your eyes rolled back into your head, moaning his name far too loud. Jungkook placed a hand over your mouth and you screamed into it, liquid gushing down your thighs, but he didn’t stop, he kept going until you felt it again, pussy throbbing, back-to-back, eyelids fluttering, nails digging into his arm as the crescendo slammed into you, taking your breath and senses away, lost only in the feeling of Jungkook’s secure presence above you.

He slowed, breathing hard. Gently, carefully pulling his fingers out of your pulsating pussy, gasping as he removed his hand. You vaguely heard Jungkook place his fingers in his mouth, sighing wantonly at your taste.

“You taste so good,” he whispered around his fingers. “Fuck, so sweet and thick and delicious.”

Your brain could not compute what the fuck was happening. Did Jungkook just give you three mind-blowing orgasms in a row after you exploded at him and admitted to thinking about him while masturbating?

Holy shit.

He pressed his face into your hair, inhaling your scent.

You swallowed thickly.

“Jungkook, do you, ah… want something too?” you asked quietly.

You heard him snicker. “If I take my clothes off, I’m going to want to put my dick in you.”

“… I’m cool with that.”

“I thought a dildo was the same as a dick?”

You cleared your throat. “Ah… Well, I didn’t think you’d want to put a dick in me.”

Jungkook laughed. “If I had five dicks, I’d put them all in you.”

“Erm… mathematically speaking, that doesn’t really work…”

“Shut up.”

Jungkook sat up, looking down at you with a smile. The same smile he always had, but a little different now, because he didn’t have to hide his attraction to you anymore.

“You really let me put it in you?”

You narrowed your eyes. “With a ninety-eight percent chance, only.”

His smile became mischievous. “That’s not one hundred percent.”

You puffed your cheeks.

“I’ll take the two percent chance for you and only you, Jungkook.”

He grinned and turned around, throwing himself to the end of the bed where his jeans were barely holding on. Fishing through the pockets, retrieving the foil packet from the back pocket. You blinked at him.

“How long has that been–”

Jungkook gave you a silencing look. “I bring a new one every time I come over, in hopes you become drunk enough to sit on my dick.”

You blinked at him. “What.” Not a question, just you stating it.

“Because you’re paranoid.”

You frowned. “I’m not–”

He launched himself over the bed and silenced you with a kiss, deep and longing. You leaned into it, breathing softly, tongue against his, pressing back against him. Jungkook drew back slowly, thumb on your cheek. Eyes looking into yours, careful and tender.

“I don’t want you to worry,” he said against your lips. “I’ll do anything you want. I know it’s not easy for you. I know you’re not ready for the million babies I want from you.”

“I can’t have a million babies. It’s not scientifically possible,” you interjected.

Jungkook narrowed his eyes. “Can you just let me have one romantic moment?”

“Erm, sorry.”

“You want me to have a damn vasectomy or something? Because I’ll fucking do it. That shit’s reversible.”

“No, that kind of requires more time and I’m pretty horny for your dick right now. Condom will do.”

He sighed, rolling his eyes. “You are a shitty sub.”

“I will do better after I’ve had the dick.”

Jungkook straightened and yanked his black t-shirt over his head. “No, you won’t.”

Your eyes roamed over his toned chest. Damn, he was ripped. Maybe he was insecure about you being hot or something, but you were certainly benefiting. “You never know?”

Jungkook sent you a pained look and pressed a hand to your chest, shoving you back into your bed. “I’ve known you way too long to believe those words coming out of your mouth.”

You were going to reply, but he ran his hand over your chest, inhaling sharply as he brushed against your nipples. He ran his fingers over them, squeezing a little. You whined, trying to get more, but Jungkook pressed his palm down on your breast, breathing hard.

“Listen, woman, I’m about to explode in my damn underwear. Stop sounding so sexy this instant.”

Your eyes found his, pupils blown wide, lips pursed, and jaw tight. Your lips parted a little, tongue peeking out, a soft moan of his name emitting from your throat. You saw a muscle in his eyebrow twitch. He looked like he wanted to throttle you, at least a little bit.

You grinned.

Jungkook narrowed his eyes.

“You are lucky you’re cute,” he muttered. “And lucky I want to be in this pussy more than I want to be alive.”

“Don’t you ne–”

Jungkook planted his hand on your mouth. “The only words I want to hear out of you are, “Fuck me harder” or my own name, you got that?” he snarled, pressing his hand into your face for emphasis.

You nodded quickly.

He sighed, almost in relief, and yanked his pants and underwear down, wincing. There was a large wet spot on his boxer briefs, strings of pre-cum clinging as he pushed it down his muscular thighs.

“You made me a giant mess,” he muttered, eyes flickering up to you. “What do you have to say?”

You blinked at him and gave him a thumbs up.

He grinned. “You do know how to listen.”

In truth, you couldn’t say anything because you were breathlessly staring at Jungkook’s thick cock, red head glistening with pre-cum, dripping everywhere. You slid down quickly, startling him, and wrapped your lips around the head, moaning as his strong taste invaded your mouth. He hissed, gritting his teeth as your tongue swiped around, licking his length all over, feeling the veins and contours, memorizing them.

“F-fuck,” he gasped. “You wanted to clean me up that bad?”

Your eyes traveled up his abs, his pecs, his neck, to his face, giving him your best imploring look. He smirked, placing a hand on your forehead, and gradually, with great effort, pulled out of your tight mouth. Tight because you sucked in your cheeks, not wanting to let him go, but Jungkook was stronger than you. You frowned, but he shooed you away.

“I allowed it this one time. Now back to your spot.”

You backed up, tsking as you watched him roll down the condom, groaning as it covered him.

“I’m actually glad I have this fucking condom,” Jungkook muttered, glaring at you.

You couldn’t say anything, so you spread your legs. His eyes dropped down and he bit his lower lip, crawling to you, grabbing your thighs. Placing himself right in front of your soaked entrance, staring down at your pussy as he guided himself, sinking into you.

“Holy fuck,” he gasped, squeezing his eyes shut.

You moaned, feeling Jungkook’s cock stretch you out, so different from a silicone dildo or multiple fingers, because it was Jeon Jungkook praying for air as you clenched around his length, his cries of pleasure as he rocked his hips into you. Those long nights with your vibrator and his Instagram open on your phone were incomparable to his cock molding to your walls, his hard hips finally hitting your thighs, all the way in, and it was so good that you throbbed around him, shuddering.

“J-Jungkook…” you pleaded.

“I know,” he panted, hands gripping your knees tight. “I know, but give me a second to appreciate this pussy, holy fuck.”

He jerked his cock inside you and you cried out, definitely crushing your sheets, but Pikachu had seen a lot by now and there was only going to be more.

Jungkook finally began to slide out and push back in, groaning, starting slow and deep because quite frankly he needed to last more than five seconds and your pussy was not letting up. You had too much control over your vaginal muscles and he was too into you to not be hugely turned on by it, shoving your legs up higher so he could go deeper, feel more of you surround him and massage his length.

“H-harder…” you whimpered. “Please, Jungkook, fuck me harder…”

And how could Jungkook say no to that? Begging so perfectly, with just the right amount of desperation, and you didn’t even know it was driving him insane, because he knew normally you were so wound up, always worrying about being perfect, always worrying about doing the right thing, but now you were unraveling on his cock as he bent down and put more force into it, pounded you harder, watching the ecstasy in your eyes, your mouth opening and tongue peeking out, hot breath in his face. Knuckles white as you clutched the sheets, pleasure radiating up his length as you came with a cry, his name, his name on those perfect lips, lips he always watched with envy, wondering who had them, wondering who was so lucky to capture them.

And now it was just him, just him and you, and his hips slapping into your hips, pussy nearly choking his cock, but it felt so good, so fucking euphoric as you fucked him back, raising your hips to meet his, loud, wet, and lewd, probably causing a ruckus next door. But neither of you cared, your names mixing together, your eyes staring to Jungkook’s piercing brown ones, hot pleasure radiating up your stomach, your chest, to your head and there was no one else.

No one else but Jungkook’s name tumbling out of your mouth as the wave soared into you, pussy spasming as you came again, unsure at what number it was, but it was the one Jungkook wasn’t prepared for and he groaned, smacking into you one last time before you felt his cock throb and pulse against your walls, spilling into the condom. You gasped at the feeling, clenching around him, his right hand reaching over to grasp yours and hold it tightly, intertwining your fingers.

“W-wow…” you whispered breathlessly. “Nice cock.”

Jungkook burst out laughing. “You’re unbelievable.” He reached down and gingerly felt around in your dripping folds, finding the end of the condom and pulling out carefully.

“Fuck. It’s so much,” he gulped, brows knitted in worry.

You waved a hand. “It’s fine. I finished my period yesterday. Likelihood of you getting me pregnant is pretty low.”

Jungkook jerked his head towards you.

“Why the fuck didn’t you say that sooner?” he roared, slapping your leg. “I was scared shitless over here!”

You placed your hands over your ears. “So loud. Shut up, Jungkook.”

“No!”

--

masterpost

[badassbuchanan]

After Hours - Part 2

Warnings: smut; swearing, handjob, pussy rubbing, unprotected sex, rough, dirty talk, choking, hair pulling, jealously, mentions of daddy kink, angst.

Word Count: 4522

Part 1

A/N: just want to say a big thank you to every single one of you for all the support and love - it honestly makes my day when I read your lovely comments about how much you enjoy reading these! x

I skipped down the classily decorated corridor in my 5 inch Jimmy Choos, hugging a stack of files close to my body.

I could see Ransom, sitting on his PA’s desk as the two of them flirted like no one was watching through the completely transparent wall made of glass.

I flicked my hair over my shoulder before grabbing the icy cold metal handle. Ransom immediately arose from his position after his head had turned to watch me walk through the door.

He stared for a moment too long, admiring the way my shorter-than-usual skirt sat on my hips. I would never in a million years have worn something this short to work, but Y/F/N had begged me to meet her at a bar straight after work and it was already quarter to 5.

I watched his hands dig into the pockets of his jeans before I turned my attention to his irritated looking personal assistant. Something about seeing him flirt with someone else after what we’d done last week in his office ignited a fire of jealously inside of me which I couldn’t explain.

“Miss Y/L/N.” Ransom fronted professionally, a slight smirk playing on his lips as his eyes travelled slowly up and down my body.

“Y/N, you don’t have an appointment booked and Mr Drysdale was just about to leave for the day.” Julie snapped, causing me to bite the inside of my cheek with annoyance. She was obviously upset that I’d interrupted their flirting.

“Well then I’ll make an appointment for tomorrow.” I smiled sarcastically, feeling Ransom’s gaze continue to burn into me as I walked over to her desk.

“No need,” Ransom interrupted with a slight cough, his fingers absentmindedly tracing a pattern on the corner of the desk. “I’m free now.”

“Good,” I tried to stay professional, but my heart skipped a beat as I looked up into his piercing blue eyes. “Now works for me.”

Ransom spun on his heels to follow me as I silently made my way through the big wooden door of his office.

I heard the door shut after him as I immediately spread the files over his desk, organising them the best I could.

“It’s only Thursday, Y/N.” Ransom mumbled in a husky voice from behind me. I smiled shyly, moving my head slightly to the side as he came towards me. “I thought you said you wouldn’t have them finished until tomorrow.”

“No, Mr Drysdale-“

“Ransom.” He cut me off, reminding me of his preferred name.

“Ransom.” I corrected myself, tapping my fingers into the edge of the desk. “I said I’d have them done by Friday. But I like to impress, so I finished them a day early.”

“Well, I’m impressed.” Ransom’s hot breath against my ear made me jump slightly as his body pressed against my back. The feeling I’d missed so much. The feeling I’d touched myself at the thought of every night.

Since Ransom had fucked me in his office, something had switched inside of me. It was like he’d awoke some kind of need that wasn’t there before. A need that only he could satisfy.

“You haven’t even looked inside yet.” The playful remark left my lips as I made a show of leaning over his desk to reach for a pen, my ass grinding backward into his crotch testingly.

Ransom’s hands immediately flew up to squeeze my hips, a slight grunt escaping his mouth. I felt my pussy start to ache as his hardening cock rubbed against my ass.

“Why don’t you show me then.” Ransom breathed out shakily, unexpectedly walking around to stand more beside than behind me. His left hand rested on the table to steady him.

“Well, I used all of the original drafts you gave me to collate these more interesting plots.” I spoke professionally, picking up one of the manilla files I’d prepared to prove my point.

Ransom’s eyes scanned the documents after grabbing it from my hand, nodding interestedly as his brows furrowed with concentration.

“I think you’ll find these more interesting because-“ I gasped softly, feeling his right hand slide under my skirt from behind as he pushed between my legs and started to rub my pussy over my panties.

I bit my lip, closing my eyes as I tried to reclaim my balance. I immediately felt my pussy dripping in arousal at the hard massage his fingers were providing.

Ransom acted like nothing was happening, pushing his fingers harder against my pussy in circles as he watched me with a straight face. “Because what?”

“Well, because. I - Um.” I stumbled over my words, gasping in pleasure as the dampness of my panties started spreading down to his fingers. “Because I found a way to incorporate a fresh take on storytelling with the classic ‘whodunnit’ style of authors such as Agatha Christie.”

“Yeah?” He raised an eyebrow cockily, pushing his body against my side as he watched me lose control. “How so?”

“The - the um.” I breathed our shakily, letting the file drop on to the table as I steadied myself on my hands. Ransom pushed his fingers against my panties harder, the sound of my wetness filling the room as he moved his hand in circular motions. “the paragraphs I’ve highlited in pink apply the fundamental basics of a good mystery novel. If we incorporate those with the modern day and even futuristic elements highlighted in green, we get something unique that people can really get behind.” I finished the sentence seconds before a loud moan escapes my lips from the pleasure.

“Speaking of which,” Ransom smirked, turning his body to lean his ass against the desk before adjusting me so I was standing directly in front of him. He pulled me forward so that I straddled him, my front rubbing against his crotch as he continued massaging my pussy from behind. “Try not to be too loud, okay?”

I felt his warm breath against my skin, his lips millimetres away from mine as I reached my hand up to cup his face. “Ransom.” I whimpered his name, admiring him through hooded eyes.

“That’s it,” Ransom grunted out in encouragement, his throbbing cock nudging against my clit through his pants. “Cum all over my fingers, baby.”

The pet name drove me wild. Last time this happened, not a single word was exchanged. But now, Ransom was all mouth. and fingers. And it was making me horny.

I moaned his name again, my lips nudged against his as I bucked my hips. My fingers dug into the back of his head, clinging on to him desperately as I lost control, feeling my orgasm already taking over.

“Shhh, good girl.” He whispered as I rode his fingers, trying to recover from my euphoric high. “Did that make you feel good? My hand rubbing that little pussy of yours?”

His dirty mouth was only making me wetter and more desperate for him. “Yes, Oh. Yes.” I whimpered my response as he continued rubbing my sensitive pussy. My eyes closed in pleasure as I held onto his tightly, my head dropping forward weakly.

“Look at you,” Ransom chuckled deviously, amused as I withered against him at the overstimulation. “So responsive.”

I reached my hand that wasn’t in his hair down to press against his bulge, gasping at the wetness covering his crotch. Both of our eyes were drawn to where my hand was on him.

Ransom smirked, scoffing at the sight before leaning forward to gently nudge my lips with his. “You made a bit of a mess.”

“I’m sorry Ransom, you just made me so wet.” I whimpered submissively, finding myself wanting to give him everything before he even asked. I felt weak and small and reliant on Ransom to look after me.

“Don’t ever apologise for how horny you are, not to me.” Ransom lifted his hand that was on my panties up to trace my lips with his thumb.

I obediently parted my lips, Ransom’s eyes darkened with desire as he gently pressed the pad of his thumb against my tongue.

I kept my eyes focused on his, moving my hand up to hold his wrist as I suck on his thumb. I let my tongue swirl around his digit as though it was his cock, something that in the moment connected us in a way that neither of us understood.

Ransom’s jaw clenched as he watched me sloppily soak his thumb with my spit, some of it dripping out of my mouth on to my lips.

“Listen to me,” Ransom caught my attention with his words, causing me to loosen my suction on his thumb. He took it from my mouth, running it carelessly over my lower stomach before hooking it into my slightly exposed panties from where my skirt had ridden up. “I’m gunna shove my cock in you, okay? You took it so well for me last time.”

I nodded a response with a whimper before looking down at where his thumb was pressing circles against my throbbing clit, still sensitive from my orgasm. Ransom’s eyes fixated on it too, a smirk on his face as he watched me submitting to him.

I grabbed hold of his strong bicep with one hand to balance myself, feeling my legs begin to wobble as a dirty thought crossed my mind. “Bend me over your desk.”

Ransom smirked, both shocked and impressed by my request. “That how you like it, hm?” He licked his lips teasingly, running his spare hand down my bare thigh.

“I want you to fuck me really hard, Ransom.” I whispered innocently, looking up into his ocean blue eyes, unknowingly playing right into his deepest fantasies. He rubbed my clit so hard my body was moving with each circle of his thumb. “I want to feel your fingers around my throat.”

Ransom grunted in frustration, keeping eye contact with me as I spoke. Atta girl, tell me what you want.” He moved his hand from my thigh to his pants, skilfully undoing his the buckle of his leather belt.

Once he’d managed to unzip his trousers, Ransom shoved his hand down his pants, tugging his cock out to fuck it with his hand.

“I want to be naked when you fuck me.” I whispered against his lips seductively, moving my hands up to unbutton my blouse. “I want you to hurt me.”

Ransom groaned with his eyebrows furrowed, pumping his cock in his hand as his jaw went slack. Ransom’s hand stopped rubbing my clit and tugged on the soft material of my blouse, his eyes dropping to admire my boobs covered by a baby pink lacy bralette. 

“Fuck,” Ransom whispered huskily as I let my shirt pool around my elbows before dropping it to the ground. He suddenly grabbed my neck roughly, catching me by surprise as he tugged me toward his face. “You look so pretty for me, baby.” He groaned, resting his face in my neck as he leaves sloppy kisses on my skin.

I whimpered at the feeling of his hot lips on my body, wrapping my arms around his neck to bring him closer as I straddled him. I tilted my neck to give him more access, his hand squeezing around my throat softly.

Frustrated with my pussy still not being fucked with his cock, I decided to slide my hands down his chest before moving them back up underneath the thick material of his knitted sweater. I looked down, a satisfied smile on my lips as I ran my hand over his toned chest. “You’re so muscly.” I hummed sweetly, tracing my fingers over his abs.

Ransom stopped kissing my neck and let go of his cock for a moment, leaning back to lift his sweater over his head. He looked back at me as he smiled. “Don’t stare for too long, I don’t think I can wait much longer.”

I giggled softly, somehow a sweet moment shared in the middle of us fucking. I looked up into his blue eyes, shining brightly in the low glow of the office. My heart skipped a beat as he smiled back at me.

Without giving it a second thought I leaned in and pressed my lips against his, Immediately retreating after realising what I’d just done. “Shit, I’m sorry. I just got c-“

“It’s fine.” Ransom chuckled and cupped my cheek, pulling me back in for another kiss.

His lips were somehow soft and rough at the same time. Ransom’s breathing slowed as we kissed, his hand moving to my lower back to pull my body closer.

I whimpered softly as our bodies met, my clit rubbing against his cock. I parted my lips slowly, which gave Ransom the opportunity to deepen the kiss as I wrapped my arms back around his neck.

My boobs rubbed against his exposed chest as he slid his hand under my ridden up skirt, squeezing my ass cheek in his palm.

“You still want me to bend you over the desk?” Ransom whispered against my lips as I rolled my hips to connect with his cock again, wetting his tip in my arousal. “Or we could go back to mine and-“

“No,” I quickly jumped in, cupping his sharp jaw with my small hand as I looked helplessly into his eyes. “I want you to fuck me now, Ransom. I need you right now. Please.”

My other hand wasted no time moving between us as I take his big cock in my hand, tracing his length with my fingers as he gasped softly. “It’s okay, you’re okay, I’m right here.” Ransom groaned, licking his lips as he hooked his fingers into my drenched panties. 

I started pumping his cock in my hand as my panties hit the floor, desperately clenching around nothing as I waited in agony for his dick to be inside me.

“Fuck.” Ransom grunted as his jaw clenched, losing himself in the feeling of my hand jerking him off.

“You’re so big.” I hummed sweetly, looking down to where my hand was on him. Ransom’s hands moved up my bare back and skilfully unhooked my bra.

“Can you take it, baby? Hm?” Ransom growled in frustration as I squeezed my hand around him. My other hand gripped the flesh of his shoulder for balance, not taking my eyes off of his throbbing member. “Can that sweet little pussy take my cock?”

“Mmh.” I nodded my response and licked my lips, taking my hands off of him to let my bra drop to the floor.

A split second was all Ransom needed to stand up, yank me forward between him and the desk and press himself against my back. His fingers expertly slid my skirt down my thighs until it hit the ground, leaving me completely naked apart from my heels.

“Is this what you imagined?” Ransom whispered in my ear as his exposed chest pressed against my bare back, causing a shiver to ripple through my body. His arm hooked around my tummy as his fingers started rubbing my sensitive clit. “When you touched yourself at night. Is this what was running through that pretty little mind of yours?”

“Yes.” I gasped out a response, pressing my ass against his cock as the front of my thighs pressed against his wooden desk.

“Me too.” He admitted as he pushed me down to bend over his desk, his body staying flush against my back as he started rubbing hard circles on my clit.

“Oh fuck.” I cried softly as my face screwed up in pleasure, bucking my hips at the feeling of his fingers on my sensitive nub. His cock pushed its way between my ass cheeks, desperate to find its way into my aching pussy.

Ransom’s breathing hitched as the tip of his cock came into contact with my pussy lips. “So soft.” He whispered breathlessly, removing his hand from my clit as he stood up straight behind me. “So warm.”

I spread my legs a little more, eager for his big cock to fuck me. “Please Ransom.” I whimpered like a slut for him, parting my lips as I turned to look over my shoulder at him. “I need to feel your cock stretching out my tight little pussy.”

Ransom took hold of his cock, looking deep into my eyes as he lined himself up with my entrance before pushing himself deep inside.

I let out a loud cry, arching my back to push my ass closer to him as my head fell to the desk.

“Is this what you wanted, baby?” Ransom grunted, both hands on my hips as he pulls almost fully out before slamming back in to fill me. “You like the way it hurts when my cock stretches you out?”

With every thrust I started to get more desperate, already overstimulated by the attention his fingers. “Yes.” I whispered breathlessly.

Ransom’s hand suddenly grabbed at my hair, tugging my head back towards him roughly. I cried out, closing my eyes at the pleasure.

“Louder.” He growled, fucking into me quickly with sharp jolts of his hips. He wrapped my hair around his fist, pulling so hard that my torso rose from the table.

I moaned loudly as I rested my palms against the wood to try and balance myself as my pussy clenched around his thick cock. Sounds of us fucking filled the air as I felt myself coming to my high once more. 

“Fucking take it.” Ransom grunted aggressively, thrusting his hips with all his strength as he fucked me. “Take my cock like a good slut for me, baby.”

Daddy. Daddy was the one word that ran through my mind as he pounded into me. I’d heard people use the word before. I’d watched porn, I’d read smut where they used the word. But I’d never said it before, I’d never felt it before.

“Yes-“ I gasped softly to stop myself from saying it out loud, frightened of how Ransom would react. I didn’t want this to stop. It felt too good.

“Shit, I’m gunna cum.” Ransom moaned, taking his hand off of my hip as he tugged me up by my hair to rest my back against his chest.

“Ransom.” I moaned in response, his tip nudging against my g-spot with the new angle he was fucking me from. My legs started to shake as his fingers moved from my hair to wrap around my throat, squeezing with enough pressure to have me seeing stars.

“You gunna cum for me?” He growled from behind me, his balls slapping against my skin as he thrusted faster, chasing his high. “You gunna drench my cock with your cum?”

“Yes, Ransom, oh fu-“ I cried through choked breaths, wave after wave of orgasm hitting me as I frantically bucked my hips back against him.

Ransom grunted in my ear at the feeling of my pussy pulsing around him, his hand getting a little tighter around my throat to keep my head from falling forward.

“That’s it baby,” He soothes me through my orgasm, his voice a little sweeter than usual as I tried to recover. He continued thrusting mercilessly into me as his cock throbbed inside me. “That’s it.”

“Ransom,” I whimpered, turning my head to the side again as I felt my boobs bounce with every deep thrust of his cock. “I need your cum.”

“Yeah? You want my cum filling this sweet little pussy?” He moaned, clenching his jaw as tingles of pleasure rushed through his body. “You want to feel it flooding inside you?”

“Yes.” I cried out desperately, lifting my hand to hold onto his wrist as his fingers tightened around my throat, making it hard of me to breathe.

Ransom growled huskily as I felt his seed spilling into my wet hole. His fingers left marks on the side of my neck as he continued to thrust in and out, riding out his orgasm.

“Oh fuck.” He moaned euphorically, letting go of my throat before pushing my chest back down against the wooden desk.

I whimpered softly, feeling his cum filling my pussy as he rammed his cock deep inside me. His hands moved to my hips, pulling my ass back against him with more force as he stayed fully sheathed in my wetness.

“I’m still cumming.” He grunted, painting my walls with his cum as I started to fill it spilling out of me and running down the inside my thighs.

We both stayed there for a moment to steady our breathing before Ransom finally pulled out slowly. “Shit.” He whispered shakily as he admired the mix of our juices dripping out of my pussy.

Ransom took a step back, moving away to grab a few tissues from his coffee table. I stood up straight, turning around as he held one out to me as an offer.

Neither of us were in a rush to leave one another, but we didn’t know what else to do except get dressed.

We cleaned ourselves up and discarded the used tissues in the bin next to his desk. Ransom tucked his cock away as I shimmied my panties and skirt back up my weak legs.

We moved about in silence, the same silence as the first time we’d fucked. It was only once I’d finished buttoning my blouse back up and was trying to make my hair look presentable that he spoke.

“Come home with me, tonight.” Ransom’s eyes were focused on the back of my head as he re-buckled his belt.

I smoothed over my skirt, suddenly reminded of why I had it on in the first place. “I can’t.” I responded disappointedly, if it was any other night, I would’ve gone with him in a heartbeat. But I couldn’t cancel on Y/F/N with such little notice. She’d ask questions. Questions that I wouldn’t want to answer.

Ransom face dropped noticeably as I turned to face him. His eyebrow cocked in curiosity as he walked towards where I was, now leaning against his desk. “How come?”

“I- I’m..busy.” I managed to make the words escape my throat, intimidated as Ransom moved to stand right in front of me, pushing the sleeves of his cable knit jumper up to his elbows. I hated how turned on I felt at the sight.

“Busy?” He frowned curiously, eyes squinting as his fingers delicately traced over the exposed flesh of my thigh. I flinched at how he oozed dominance, trying to think of the right way to explain my evening plans but the silence seemed to tell all.

“Oh.” Ransom’s hand came to a sudden halt, leaving my leg feeling cold as his hand lifted off of my skin. His head dropped down to avoid my eyes, he now understood why I’d dressed different today. And his heart sunk as he realised it wasn’t for him.

“Come on Ransom,” I chuckled softly, trying to lighten the awkwardness and make him feel better as I adjusted myself to stand up straighter. Ransom coughed abruptly, turning his head to the side. “I’m sure one of your other girls would love to keep you company tonight.”

“Other girls?” Ransom’s head snapped back to me immediately with a deadly look on his face. His blue eyes stared deep into mine, making me nervous as I fidgeted slightly. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” His hands came to rest on his hips, his lips slightly parted in shock.

“Nothing, I-“

“So that’s what you think of me?” Ransom scoffed with a shake of his head, physically stepping away from me. “Just think I’m some kind of self-consumed womaniser who can’t keep his cock in his pants? Fuck me, it’s all over the media so it must be true. The disappointing heir of Harlan Thrombey who likes to enjoy himself, he must be off the fucking rails, unfit to run the family business. Do you think I just have a list of girls saved in my phone that I rotate through like some kind of fucking roulette wheel? Doesn’t matter if they have plans, or a boyfriend, I’m Hugh fucking Drysdale! I know they’ll come running so I use them just to dump my fucking cum into. God forbid I actually have a heart or life aspirations that don’t involve getting drunk, snorting coke or having a different girl in my bed every fucking night!” He was screaming his words by the end.

“No. Ransom, I didn’t mean-“ I tried to make him stop for a moment to explain what I meant. But he was so worked up. So heated, fury coursing through his body as his blood boiled from my accusation. 

Ransom ran one of his hands through his hair, his eyebrows deeply furrowed as I noticed his stomach expand with his heavy breaths.

“Ransom, please. I-“

“Just go.” He stepped further away from me as his face dropped sternly, clearing the path between me and the door.

I stood there, heartbroken at the thought of upsetting him, terrified of the fact that he was my boss. I’d never seen him this angry before. He had a point though. I didn’t know much about him apart from what I saw in the media. It was hard to ignore when they were constantly posting photos of him in compromising situations. Ransom was still new to the company, most of the time he’d been here he’d been stuck in his office attending conference calls with business partners or reviewing drafts. None of us knew much about Ransom personally. So we’d filled in the blanks with what the press told us he was.

“I said get the fuck out!” Ransom yelled in frustration, his muscles flexing as he picked up a glass from his desk, sending it smashing against the wall.

I flinched, terrified at the sudden sound, jolting upright and bolting toward the door without a moments hesitation.

I heard another crash from inside the room as the heavy wooden door shut behind me. My heart raced as I hurried my way through the reception area, thanking my lucky stars that everyone had already gone home for the day.

I stood by the lift, still in shock as I waited impatiently for the doors to open. I grabbed my phone from my purse, rolling my eyes as I remembered the double date that was about to take place. At least it would take my mind off of Ransom and the fact that I was probably going to get fired tomorrow. I should’ve just kept my mouth shut, I should never have let myself get involved with him. I knew I’d end up ruining it. It was too good to be true. 

Ransom sighed as he slumped down onto his leather office sofa after grabbing a bottle of whiskey from the liquor cabinet. He held his head in his hand, untwisting the cap off the bottle with his teeth before spitting it out carelessly. There was no need for a glass tonight, which was lucky for him, considering his favourite one was in a thousand pieces on the floor.

tag list:

@harrysthiccthighss

@annestine

@bestofbucky

@be-patient-be-good

@nothing0is4here

@velvetcardiganbucky

@sexwithhiddlesbatch

[domthedevil]

heyyy!! i’m like obsessed with your blog, and i hope you don’t mind me requesting this, you can decline if you have to 💕 i understand.

as stated in your irl, why not dom the devil? 😳 just making diavolo obey you aAAA maybe having him in a collar with a leash attached to it? pulling on it to make him look at you as you ride him? (with a gender neutral reader 👉👈).

haha, go crazy, i just wanted to suggest some ideas. as long as we get to dom diavolo, i’m okay lololol.

- @haienk

I love you. I’ve been trying to put something together for a dom the Diavolo fic and now I am at peace and full of inspiration. The sweet prince needs to be punished. 💋

Tamed Puppy

Diavolo x MC

Warnings: Long, bondage, sub!Diavolo, degradation kink, flogging, pet play, sensory play,...feet. 👀

He’d always told you he wanted to let you take control. The prince wanted to be un-princely for once, and he trusted you more than anyone else to help fulfill his needs. You loved how much he let you ease into things, but this he didn’t have to. You were more than happy to treat him un-princely like.

So you brought him to his chambers, stripped him down and made him sit like a good pet as you prepared everything. Making him watch as you slowly move to make him wait even longer. To see the look of a lost puppy without his master yet.

“M-MC...you can tighten this if you’d like.”

Helping him put on his collar for the first time, you couldn’t help the smile across your face. So eager, like a puppy begging to be trained. You’d already placed the blindfold over his eyes, making every new accessory a surprise to all of his senses.

“More like this?” You whispered softly as you tightened it only one more notch. But his moaned response told you it was perfect. “Have you already been broken in, Diavolo. Or are you just so eager to be treated like my pathetic pet?”

“I’ve always wanted you, MC...”

Moving behind him, you used the bondage tape that resembled vinyl to tightly bind his arms to each other. The heat on his face made you laugh quietly. Enjoying the expressions he made as he realized how much you were doing. Enjoying the lack of control, his cock had already began to stir. When did he get like this?

Now that you had him tied up and accessorized, you walked around him in a circle. Diavolo turned his head as your foot steps rang out in the quiet room. The deep red flush across his face complimented his already adorably pathetic state. It was easy to see he was already excited. He must have been holding back these desires for a long time.

“You’re already half hard. I haven’t touched you yet, really.”

“I’m so excited, I can’t help it.” His cheerful smile shone through, making you grow more aroused as well.

Sitting on the couch near his bed, you led Diavolo with you on a short leash. Not being able to use his arms was a little difficult, but he managed to follow your orders. Obeying you every order, he sat on his knees with his thighs spread wide open. With a foot still clad in a sock, your placed your big toe on the tip of his impressive cock. The prince whined in surprise.

“Let’s see if you have any self control. I can’t play nice all the time with my little pet...” the ball of your foot rubbed up and down his shaft, earning more and more deep moans from Diavolo. “I have to train you to be a good boy.”

His breathing was growing heavier, feeling something vague and soft against his cock had his brain occupied as you spoke. It didn’t matter what it was, but he wanted more of it. The friction against his ever hardening member pressed against your toes. Maybe the prince was enjoying himself too much? When Diavolo’s hips began to rut against you, you pulled away quickly. Earning whine.

Diavolo heard you stand, he worried maybe he’d crossed some line, but you didn’t let him wonder for too long. A firm smack against his ass made Diavolo jump. He lost his balance, resting his face against the floor as you pushed his hips up. Another loud crack of the short flogger you hid from the prince as a surprise rang out. Met in volume only by Diavolo’s whines. Accepting he was going to be flogged, he wiggled his hips with enthusiasm.

“Bad pets get punished, my lord.” Your own body was hot, watching him so needy for you was arousing. And the little noises coming from him were all for you. Only you.

“Y-yes. Master.”

The title sent a chill down your spine. You couldn’t help but be a little rougher, excited by his obedient submission. Soon his cheeks were a mix of pink and a light shades of red. His panting and groans paused as you ran a loving hand over the marks that crossed his beautiful skin. You pulled his hair to help him back on his knees.

With his leash dragging behind him, Diavolo moved to sit on the bed the way you desired. Removing his blindfold you ordered him to stay like a good boy. You’ll reward him a little for being such a good pet. Taking a few steps away you undressed slowly, you saw that same puppy look from before, but with a much different emotion. All the desire he held was easily read on his face. Achingly slow you undressed, letting each button and each layer take just a moment longer to remove than usual. Once bare, with clothes tossed carelessly to the side, you walked back to your pet.

To his surprise, you knelt between his legs. Your hands traced his thighs, spreading them so that you had access to his weeping cock. He must have been really close to coming against your foot. You took a precarious lick at the slit of his length. Diavolo shivered as he helplessly looked down. So badly he wants to grab at your hair, push his cock down your throat, and fuck you senseless. But you had other plans. Circling the tip of his dick, your tongue picked up the rest of his precum.

“MC...too good.”

“You deserve a little reward. You’re a better pet than I thought.” The small praise made him smile and rut his hips slightly against your tongue and lips. You wouldn’t let him inside your mouth. Seeing him desperate for it was adorable though.

Diavolo’s face fell slightly as he realized you were teasing him, not letting him pass your lips. Now that he could rub his shaft against your wet tongue at least gave him some relief. He began chanting your name as he slowly started to tense in his abdomen. The prince wasn’t used to being denied this long, and he was growing more needy than ever. If only he could get his hands free, push you down and fuck you again.

“M-MC please. I want to come.”

“Oh? You think you get to finish before I do?” Your voices sent warm puffs of air against his saliva coated member.

Much to his dismay, you stood up from the floor and pushed him back on the bed. The prince’s burning orgasm fading slightly. Immediately you were on top of him. Thighs warming both sides of his waist. He looked up at you with the same pathetic expression only you would ever get to see. Grabbing his leash you ordered him not to move while you hovered above him.

Kissing his jaw line and down to his neck, you left bites and bruises. Love notes he could brag about later. Each sending chills down his spine. And the the grinding of your hips against his cock made it leak with eager seed.

Finally you aligned your hips with his overly sensitive dick. Diavolo almost whined as you lowered yourself down. He was easily the biggest partner you’d ever had, and each ride on his cock discovered something new inside you each time.

“Fuck...Diavolo...b-be a good boy and stay still.” Though your legs were trembling, you moved yourself up and down slowly. Easing the length inside to familiar places that you both knew could make you scream. Stilling his hips, Diavolo loudly panted and moaned. Unable to hold back, not that he had to when you treated him like this.

Tugging his leash you made him sit up to be eye level with you. You both shared your erotic expressions before a long and heated kiss. His greedy tongue pressed pass your lips and tangled with yours. A moment after, you heard the tape you’d wrapped his arms in tear and soon his strong arms were wrapped tightly around your torso.

“I can’t stay still, Master. I need it so badly...”

Though he broke through his restraints, you still had his collar. You couldn’t deny how great it felt to be filled up with his royal cock and you didn’t want to wait any longer either. As Diavolo’s hips thrusted up into you, your whole body grew hotter than it was before. Being stretched and filled over and over, your moans grew as loud as his. You pulled his leash roughly to bring him closer, catching his lips in a deep kiss.

Chanting his name you showered him in praises. He’s a good boy. So obedient and loves his master. He’s the best boy, the best! And the prince ate it up. Returning the praises, making you both flushed with heated cheeks.

Sporadic hip thrusting cut your last sentence short as he grew closer and closer. Your own orgasm was just about to reach its peak. Wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your face against his ear, you let the breathless moans and whines breeze by his ear. The voice he found so sweet made his hips move even faster.

“Coming. Diavolo. Your such a good boy making me come like this. Such a good boy...” Your voice trailed off into a moan as you reached your climax. Walls clenching around him tightly, the prince held on to the sheets beneath him as he tried to hold back.

“C-can I come? Master please let me come inside you.”

“That’s good. Come then. Come for me.”

A few shaky thrust later, Diavolo buried himself deep inside you. Filling you with thick ropes of seed. Having to hold back, even just a little, pent him up with so much frustration and the relief from coming inside you fixed it all. You moved with trembling legs to rest beside him. Thankful for the cool, soft sheets on your heated skin.

Diavolo took the initiative to clean you and himself up. Seeing as how he was the only one who could walk. Once back on the bed next to you, he flipped on his stomach so you could rub his still pink bottom. The touch soothed him strangely. You shared a bright smile with each other as you both came back down to hell.

“So...how did it feel to not be a prince for a day?”

“Hmmmm...rough, but good.”

“Did you say ruff? Was that a pun?”

“What’s a pun?”

[itjazzbicch]

2-0

Pairing:  Matt Jackson x Fem Reader

Summary: Based off Surging Waves:

The reader and Matt have a wonderful first date that ended with some spice and created a strong bond between them. With a busy schedule, the reader tries to make some time for them and they do find time in the ring, learning their ring chemistry and then some...

Warnings:  SMUT! (18+ ONLY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

Requested by:  No one (But I hope you all enjoy!)

Word Count:  2043

Tag List: @demonqueen29​ @jessiebean00​ @new-zealand-chic​ @crowleysqueenofhell​ @justamess44​ @thatpanpal​ @hungmanhorsecarriage​ @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch​  @linziland13​ @xxx-jazz-xxx​ @writtingrose​

I DO NOT OWN THIS GIF

[Hey Matt, I know we’ve both been busy lately, but here in the city, I have my own ring. Wanna hang out and get some training in? Here’s the address if you decide to come]

A true connection was established during my first date with Matt, that connection making my heart ache a little every time he was away.

It had been a little over a week since we had time to ourselves because of how filled our schedules were but with a day between shows in the same city, I figured this would be the perfect opportunity.

I was hoping I didn’t come off as clingy or desperate by that message. Not receiving a response was a bad sign in my eyes.

An hour had passed when I gave up. Matt wasn’t coming. With a tense, angry hand, I snatched my sweat towel, ready to exit the ring, but then I heard knocking on the door.

“It’s open!” My voice echoed throughout the room, eyes exploding with happiness and relief at the sight of Matt walking through the door with a gym bay.

“Nice ring!” Matt complimented, finding the apron and jumping up, getting a good feel of the ropes, “Man, I don’t think our crew even does this good!”

“Thanks,” I appreciated, “I put a lot into this ring.”

Matt always knew how to make my eyes lock onto him, adoring his tye-dye t-shirt, but enjoying the show much more when he revealed his bare chest, his abs built and tone, tossing his shirt off.

I was enraptured by his every move but also distracted and just able to roll out of the way when he jumped off the top rope and into the ring, coming at me.

A sharp wheeze made my chest seize, exhaling deeply in the corner, stressing, “What was that about?”

“I told you, next time we’re in a ring, we’re having a match,” Matt recalled, “Remember?”

That was during our first kiss and I remembered, clear as day.

A fiendish, playful smile was my response; nodding my head when I stood up in the corner across from him, smiling, “Oh, I remember. Remember what I told you? Don’t get too ahead of yourself.”

It was hard not to laugh when Matt turned away, as if there was a timekeeper's area, yelling, “Ring the bell! Ding! Ding! Ding!”

The first thing we did was get into a lock-up and this time, I actually had to use a good bit of strength. Matt was a lot strong than I anticipated, but I was able to keep up.

I tried keeping it simple with some chain wrestling, but our pace picked up a lot, especially since I was a high flyer. I was so used to moving so fast.

Lucha rolls, jumping off the ropes, dropkicks, arm drags, cross bodies; If we were on Dynamite, the fans would eat it up. We were basically wrestling a real match and it was astonishing how evenly matched we were.

All that fast-paced wrestling was wearing me down, so I decided to go for a pin. Matt and I’s hands were interlocked, trying to overpower one another, but I swept out his leg, then jumped on top of him.

With my head pressed hard against his shoulder, pinning him down to the mat, I called out, “One! Two!”

He kicked out and I tried again, pushing my head against his other shoulder, yelling, “One! Two!”

Matt was truly proving his strength, almost breaking my hold, trying to throw me off with a thrust of his hips upwards, but with a loud groan, I pushed them back down, keeping mine pinned against his.

Silence fell between us, a desirous look in his eyes when our eyes met, both of our chests heaving.

“Got damn it, I can’t take it anymore,” He heaved, breaking my hold and sitting up, cradling my face with both hands, powerful zealousness in his lips when they met mine.

His passion was so strong and stirring, small trembles radiating through his body, tensed up muscles that made his arms latch around my waist, keeping me in a warm embrace.

All those feelings flowing between us continued to grow stronger as my reaction was to return an even more spirituous kiss, my hands now cradling his face.

We probably could’ve kissed each other to the point where we stopped breathing and collapsed, but the sound of our lips popping free echoed in the room, the look of lust being shared between us.

“God, have I missed that,” Matt confessed, taking the moment to catch his breath.

“Really?” I whispered shyly; swimming in those deep brown eyes made me a little nervous. Everything about him was so striking, anything he did made my heart flutter and that intensified the second I felt his lips against mine.

“Yes,” He assured, chuckling like I was speaking nonsense, but the lust came back and kicked in hard, making me even more flustered, “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you and it feels so good to have what I want.”

Knowing that we were experiencing the same emotions regarding one another made that nervousness fade away, getting what I wanted to, kissing him along with a scruff of his beard.

I fell in deep, getting lost and we began to think unconsciously, our bodies beginning to move together.

“What do you think of turning this match into a submission match, hm?” Matt offered, thrusting his hips into me gently.

“You think you can make me tap out?” I snickered, shaking from arousal when his hands pinned my hips to his, biting at my lower lip and growling:

“I know I can.”

“I’d love to see you try,” I grinned, slowly grinding against him, able to feel how the tension bulging between his thighs, his erect cock creating tight friction against his shorts.

“Oh, I’m going to,” He pledged, swapping positions and slamming me against the mat.

Clothes were flung all over the ring, shoes kicked out to the floor. For a moment, I couldn’t believe I was doing this in my ring, but the emotions between made me careless.

Only focused on Matt, kneeling back down to the canvas, hand giving soft strokes, attending to the length and thickness of his cock.

Stars were spinning around my head already, my brain so pleasurably dazed that I had my own, slow-motion view, but the speed of our movements caught up to me.

Our skin was hot pressed together, stinging steaming trapped and it wasn’t going to get any cooler from here.

His smile against my lips showed his excitement, enjoying the squish of my thighs when he spread them wide.

Sweat was forming and I was filled with heat, moaning against his lips, looking down for a moment to see his cock slowly disappear inside me, inch by inch.

My body showed how hungry I was for this, walls keeping ahold of him and not wanting to ever let go, slicking him so much already.

I could feel him being milked with every thrust, fighting some noise that could be declared sinful, feeling a pinch in my lower core that made me groan, “ugh!”

“You hiding your moans? Don’t act all tough “ He panted, holding my face by the jaw, sloppily kissing, “I know every noise you’ll make will be beautiful.”

“Ugh!” I gasped, still registering that pinch, “M-Matt!”

It made my body tremble, my brain having to process every move he made because it was so overloaded with pleasure and bliss, his pace quickening to satisfy both our needs.

A hand got tangled in his hair, pulling unintentionally, I just needed something, getting the contact I needed when I latched around his body, eyes rolling to the back of my head.

“Still not ready to tap yet?” He teased, not ready for the moan that jumped from his chest due to the feeling of my hips beginning to chase his, moving faster this his current pace.

“You should know by now, I don’t go down without a fight,” I growled, pulling at his hair a little again.

“You don’t go down without a fight?” He repeated with a deep grunt, making it tough for me not to fall into a puddle when he went off like a jackhammer, sentence being finished with a rough thrust.

With a tight scrunch of his nose, he sat up to admire his cock pulling back just to be sucked back in so quickly, biting his lips and focusing on the squelching sound being created between us, making an even bigger mess of me.

“G-go-“ I stuttered, a sharp arch forming in my lower back, fingernails scratching at the canvas.

“Spit it out,” He smiled, curious as to what I was going to say, thinking I was ready to tap.

“Got damn you, Matt,” I whined, gasping at the feeling of my sweet spot being hammered, rattling my body like an earthquake and I didn’t know how much my body could take before I became undone.

Matt could always read me well, doubling his efforts, such a sexy but devilish look on his face; hair falling down past his eyes, that look alone had me ready.

His eyebrows raised with expectancy when I became so dazed I could only babble out his name, lips having trouble that I made me drool.

To keep a stabilized flow of pleasure through me, he established a quick, pounding rhythm, balls slapping against my wet skin, raising my legs a little higher with a tight grip of my thighs.

It was as if someone was taking bumps in the ring with the way he was going, feeling every movement vibrate against my back and spine, ricocheting all over the place and making all of the pleasure ping around me and hit hard like a pinball machine.

There was no way I was going to get the chance to turn the tables and I didn’t want to. I wanted this and Matt blew my mind.

“I can’t understand you when you’re babbling like that,” Matt noted, wanting my words to express what was happening to my body.

My core coiled up like a spring, a spring that was ready to snap. It made my back arch harder on its own, almost making me sit up, but my body was also ready to collapse, keeping my shoulders down.

The heat was growing in the air thickly, making me overhear, breaking out in small sweats and with Matt going and going, his stamina showing no end, there was no running from the orgasm that lurked.

The squelching grew louder, deep groans rumbling in his chest from my walls pulsating, but there was no slowing him down.

“Matt!” I cried out loud, frantically grabbing him by the shoulders, needing his body for support, his heart pounding hard against my chest when gushing slick drenched his cock and thighs, making his cock pulsate, not daring to slow him down, delivering deep thrust and continuing to fuck me thoroughly.

There was no denying how good every part of it felt, but with all the heat trapped in my body, how my legs were shaking like hell, a faint ring in my ears when my chest stopped heaving, heartbeat echoing with a pound in my head.

With a faint wrist, I tapped his shoulder, holding his head that fell to my shoulder, kissing it with a smile, pinning his hips against mine to take a moment of his own to breathe.

The ring shook a little when he moved his knees, faintly giggling, “Your winner! Matt Jackson. Undefeated against Y/N!”

He was such a goof sometimes and I loved it, making me laugh hysterically when he added quickly, guilt in his voice, “Also, uhhhh, a new canvas is in this ring’s future.”

“Courtesy of Matt Jackson!” I huffed, mocking his announcer's voice.

He wasn’t done getting moans of out me yet, sharp whines falling from my lips when he sat up, slowly pulling out with a languid thrust, smiling into my eyes, “I think you and I should have more matches like these.”

“Oh yeah,” I grinned, blowing him a kiss, “I’m beating that undefeated streak of yours.”

[cocochannel00]

Only Wish (This Year)

All Y/n wants for Christmas this year was Harry to be home... so what happens when Harry can’t make it? (a part of the ‘Christmas song fic challenge’)

Word count: 3k Pairing: Harry Styles x reader

A/N: hello my loves! This is my submission for @goldenbluesuit​’s christmas fic challenge, Christmas is literally my favorite holiday of the year and I’m so happy I got a chance to do my first fic writing challenge based on the absolute bop that is Britney Spear’s “Only Wish (This Year)”. If you want to read more great Christmas fics by some amazing writers checkout the Christmas Song Masterlist Here and if you want to read and more of my writing check out My Masterlist Here. I hope you enjoy!! 

"Love I think the tree looks a little crooked"

"No, it's not! It looks fine," you grumbled as you tried to fluff one of the branches that was limping to the left a bit. You had just gone out with Anne yesterday to the Christmas tree farm to get it. The two of you spent nearly two hours walking around the field looking for the perfect tree to put in the living room and after your fingers and toes had officially gone completely numb the two of you gave up and settled for the lanky one in the corner of the field that no one wanted. The tree towered over you quite a bit and had a bit of a tilt, but it reminded you a bit of Harry and this Christmas that was what you wanted, him.

"The reindeer you just hung up is about to fall off, Love" he mumbled from the screen of your computer as he face-timed you from the studio in LA. Rushing over to the left side of the tree, you scooped up the ornament quickly just as it was beginning to slide off of the scrawny branch you had placed it on earlier. As you less than gracefully began to pick yourself off the ground, you heard a wolf whistle come from your husband.

"On second thought, if you keep bending down like that I think I might actually like this tree" Harry stated with a smirk as you gave him the middle finger. "Your mom and I picked it out yesterday cause we thought it looked like you. A little lanky, a little scrawny... looks like he just rolled out of bed" you replied with a laugh.

"I'm going to spare my ego and pretend you didn't just compare your beautiful, loving, and supportive husband to that sad drooping tree you have in the corner."

"(Y/n) is that Harry you're talking to in there? Tell him he better be making it home for Christmas Eve dinner or I'm going to be having a stern talking with Jeff" Anne shouted from the kitchen where she was finishing up some cookies for when Gemma and Michal' today.

You could see the color drain from Harry's face as he scratched the back of his neck. You and Harry have been married now for a little over a year but had been dating for well over three, so you know his every tick and giveaway and when Harry begins to scratch and rub at the back of his neck you know it's bad news.

"I've got this really good chorus started with Mitch, but were still trying to figure out whether-"

"Harry"

"We spent all of yesterday  working through the tracklist and I think I've narrowed it down to-"

"Harry"

"I think I'm going to end the album with the song I wrote on our honeymoon. I tweaked the melody but it's still-"

"Harry" you whispered for the last time before he finally stopped his rambling. You could see him by the way he was avoiding your stare that he didn't want to say the words you both were dreading. He isn't coming home for Christmas. You both knew it was a possibility when he flew out to LA nearly five weeks ago to finish the album before the new year. Despite Harry's offer of having you come to LA with him, your job didn't allow you the luxury of taking off that much time especially during one of your busiest times of the year. You had held out hope that Kid Harpoon and Harry could tie up all of the loose ends ahead of time, but clearly, that wasn't going to happen.

"I tried baby, I really did. There are just too many little things that need to get done here. I promise I'll try and make it back next week, we can have our own little Christmas together in London" he stated trying the lighten his crushing words. This was supposed to be your first Christmas as a married couple together so to say you were disappointed would be an understatement, but you knew that if you let Harry know he would be on the first flight out to London.

"It's ok, we both knew this could happen. I'm sure Anne and I will spend way too much time fussing over Adelaide to even notice you're not here" you replied back trying to lighten the mood a bit more by mentioning Gemma's adorable two-year-old daughter.

"Stop rubbing it in" he joked as Jeff called his name in the background. "I need to get back in before they all have my head for keeping them here past midnight again. I'll try and sneak another call later tonight if you're still up"

"So good, H. I love you"

"I love you too, (Y/n). See you soon" Harry replied back as he hung up. You closed your laptop and continued your quest to finish decorating your slightly distorted Christmas tree. Securing the lights onto the tree had somehow become the hardest part of decorating the tree, so while you were wrapped in a mess of bulbs and strings you didn't even notice Anne come in with two cups of hot chocolate.

"Oh dear let me give you a hand" Anne muttered as she placed the mugs on the coffee table before rushing to your side, delicately untangling you from the lights while placing each string perfectly in its place. You gave her a quick thanks before you walked over to the couch to admire your work.

"He texted me to check up on you, that crazy son of mine. Swear I love him, but sometimes he's got just no sense of priorities. Leaving his wife all alone for the holidays, just not right" Anne said as she passed you a mug and sat down next to you.

"I appreciate you belittling your son on my behave, but reset assured that I am ok. I'm sad we won't be able to spend our first Christmas together as a married couple, but I'm sure we'll have our own little Christmas once he gets back. Besides, I still get the full week off of work and I get to spend time with you and baby Adelaide for the next couple of days and it will be great!"

"Well if you ever need me to put him in his place you let me know, ok sweetheart? Can't have my favorite daughter-in-law feeling upset" she said as she wrapped her arms around you.

"Thanks, Anne" you replied as you gave her a tight squeeze, placing a kiss on her cheek.

"Anytime dear. Now quick, turn on channel Hollywood Gossip before Gemma shows up,  she never lets me watch this show. I heard Lily James was spotted with an ex-boyfriend again"

The two of you spend the next hour catching up on some gossip and making lists of everything that still needed to be done before Christmas in two days. If there was one thing you were certain about, it was that you were going to make the most of your situation and try and have the best Christmas possible

**********

It was Christmas eve and you had spent the entire morning cooking and prepping for the large family meal you and Anne were hosting for Gemma and Michal and a couple of close friends. The two of you had been absolutely buzzing and Christmas tunes had been playing throughout the house since you both woke up bright and earlier at 7 am. You had scoured your suitcase for the perfect Christmas outfit but after spending 20 minutes trying on outfits in the and had settled for one of Harry's red cardigans and some dark washed jeans. The smell of the vanilla candle that smelt just like Harry that Anne had left in your room last night made you miss him even more as you finished getting yourself ready just in time to hear the doorbell ring downstairs.

You peeked out the window and saw Gemma and Michal standing at the door with little Adelaide at their feet and quickly ran to the door to greet them. Once you opened the front door a pair of small arms wrapped themselves around your legs as Adalaide screamed your name.

"Well hello, my sweet girl. I missed you so much! Did you miss me?" you asked as she nodded quickly. You picked her up carefully and smothered her face in kisses just as Anne came over to greet everyone.  The five of you made your way out of the foyer and into the kitchen as Gemma wrapped her arms tightly around you and dragged you to the far end of the kitchen.

"Good afternoon my favorite sister. How is the married life treating you? Any surprises I should be worried about this Christmas?" she asked as she stole a Christmas cookie off of one of Anne's various dessert displays.

"It's been very nice, thank you. I don't think you'll be having any surprises from me this Christmas"

"Pitty I was hoping they be able to be in the same class as their cousin could go to school together," she said nonchalantly smirking at you as you stood there confused.

'What do you mean cousins? Adelaide already in day-care and I don't-- Oh my gosh Gemma are you -"

"Shh don't say it out loud, but yes. About eight weeks along, but we haven't told anyone yet. I'm telling you because last time I told you everything went well, so I think you're my good luck charm... and I need you to drink all of the shots Chloe tries to feed me tonight" She mumbled as you laugh and give her a big hug.

"Well congratulations Gem, I wish you both the best. Hey Adelaide, did you know what special person is going to be joining you really soon?" you asked the little girl in your arms as she played with the butterfly necklace Harry had gotten you for your second anniversary together.

"Santa"

"You're right baby Santa is coming tonight. Why don't you help me and Nana Anne finish decorating these last cookies before everyone gets here"

**********

The night was fantastic. After all of the guests had arrived, you all sat down to eat the wonderful roast Anne had been making all day. The room was filled with laughter and smiles as people recounted their most embarrassing Christmas stories. Your favorite was Michal's who as a child got so excited about seeing Santa at the mall that he actually peed on Santa's lap while telling him what he wanted for Christmas. Gemma discreetly slid her shot glass to you numerous times throughout the night and despite the questioning looks coming from Chloe, no one questioned Gemma's excuse of being the designated driver this year. Overall it was by far one of your favorite holiday meals to be a part of, you only wish Harry could have been there to share it with you.

"Me pants are about to explode, but does anyone fancy a little Christmas Eve stroll outside?" Michal asked as he cuddled a sleeping Adelaide to his chest.

There was a chorus of agreements and your large group slowly began to clean up their placemats and prepare themselves for the trek out in the snow. You helped Gemma load the dishwasher as Anne distributed Tupperware for everyone to take leftovers home with them before running upstairs to grab your winter jacket and boots. After everyone was all bundled up, you all headed outside into the snow, Gemma, and Michal leading the way as walked along the sidewalk. You watched the way Gemma placed a snowflake on Adelaide's nose and waited for the little girl to giggle before quickly wiping it off just to do it all over again. You continued to watch the interaction with a yearning in your heart at the thought of having your own kids with Harry and being able to take them on walks and show them ordinary things like snowflakes. Just as you had begun to drift off into your subconscious world Anne came up next to you and wrapped her arms with yours.

"That will be you someday, I can just feel it" Anne stated as she squeezed your hand tight. You gave her a small smile and nodded your head.

"I hope so. Just have to get your son to stay in one spot long enough" you joked as you rubbed your hands together for warmth.

"That man worships the grown you walk on, Love. If you tell him you want kids right now he'll drop everything"

"Hopefully when I get him back next week we can talk about it all a bit more" you replied as Anne nodded her head.

Your walk lasted about a half-hour until Adelaide began to cry saying she was tired and wanted to go to bed. You all preceded to head back into Anne's home for a bit to warm up before everyone would drive back to their respective homes to continue to celebrate their Christmases. Being the busy body that you were, you began to make tea for everyone in the hope of avoiding the dreaded interrogation about Harry and your's relationship that always came towards the end of these gatherings, but it never came. You think Anne must have warned them that you were feeling somewhat sad about Harry not being there because they managed to avoid the topic throughout the rest of the night. Just as the clock struck midnight everyone slowly began to say their goodbyes and exchanging any last-minute gifts that needed to be given. You helped Anne gather everyone's things and waved your last goodbyes before heading into the living room to relax a bit.

"I'm a bit wiped out dear so I think I'm going to head to bed early. Will you be ok here by yourself?" Anne asked cautiously as you scrolled through some pictures Harry had sent you the other day of him at the studio.

"Yes, I think I'll be ok. Have a good night Anne and thank you for a wonderful Christmas"

"No thanks needed dear, you're family now and always will be. I'll see you in the morning".

You waved a quick goodbye as Anne left upstairs to her room. The silence downstairs was only making your feelings of missing Harry worse so you decided to put on the TV and watch a Christmas movie to lift your spirits a bit as you cuddled Harry's picture to your chest. You know he was having Christmas Eve dinner with Jeff's family now and you didn't want to bother him so you decided that you would suck it up and wait until tomorrow to call him and tell him how much you really miss him. All you wanted this Christmas was to have him sitting next to you, sipping on a couple of hot chocolate and making fun of your weirdly patterned socks.

You hoped that flipping through the tv channels would help distract you but the minute you started channel surfing and Love Actually popped up on the screen in front of you, the waterworks began. You cried because you missed Harry. You cried because you didn't get to share all of your happy memories of today with him. You cried because you could cuddle him to sleep and wake up to his delicious scent. There you sat in his childhood home wrapped in a fuzzy blanket crying. You sobbed into the blanket as quietly as you could in the hopes of not waking up Anne and after what felt like an eternity, you finally fell asleep on the couch

*********

You were peacefully asleep on the couch until the sound of music blasting from the kitchen speaker startled you awake. 

“I signed my letter that I sealed with a kiss I sent it off, and just said this...”

"Oh, fucking shit. Stupid fucking Tom calling me at..." you heard as a crash came from the kitchen.

You jumped from your curled up position on the couch and turned around to see where the noise was coming from. As you sank deeper into the couch hoping not to be seen, you saw a silhouette moving around the kitchen searching the drawers. Your pulse began to race as you start to run all of the potential ways in which this intruder could kill you right now. Just as you were about to reach for your phone to call 999, the intruder turned on the light and you saw a familiar head of curly hair.

"Jesus fucking christ Harry nearly gave me a heart attack" you stated as Harry nearly jumped out of his skin.

The two of you stared at each other for a while before you finally processed what was going on. Harry was here. Harry had made it. He was here for Christmas. He came. You all but sprinted off of the couch and launched yourself at him, hearing release gasp as you latched on to his body like a koala.

"Nearly gave me a heart attack there, love" he stated as he wrapped his arms around you and ran his hands through your hair.

"I could say the same thing. Who comes home after midnight and doesn't say anything, especially when said person said many times that they weren't going to be to make it home"

"Wasn't supposed to be home but then mom said you looked upset after our call yesterday so I told Jeff I would finish the rest in the London studio and zoom call any last-minute details. Excited to have me home?" he asked with a smirk.

"No" you stated trying to hide your excitement.

"Come on Love, don't lie to me. I'm excited to be home. Get to spend Christmas with my beautiful, smart, kind, amazing wife.  Get to shower her with gifts. Best Christmas ever"

"Definitely best Christmas ever" you mumbled back as you leaned in and kissed him, savoring the taste of his lips after so long.

"I have one more surprise for you that I think you'll like" he stated as he broke away from the kiss.

"What" you whined as he laughed at you.

"Told Columbia that I'd make the record, but that I'm not releasing it till the end of next year. Want to settle down a bit more, gain more stability in case..." he trailed off as he cheeks turned pink.

"In case what?" you asked innocently even though you knew exactly what he was insinuating.

"In case you want to try for a baby like we talked about on our honeymoon. Said you wanted more stability from me before we started trying so this me giving you that. Don't want to pressure you or anything and this is your choice and I don't- "

"Yes," you whispered.

"Yes?" he questioned before you nodded your head and wrapped your arms around his neck.

Tears appeared in his eyes as he spun you around the kitchen. You laughed as he chanted "baby baby baby" quietly as to not wake Anne but the joy in his expression spoke volumes. You were both ready for this next chapter in your life and whatever happens next, as long as you were together, you knew everything would be ok.

“Hey babe” you whispered as Harry continued to cheer quielty. 

“Yes, Love?”

“Is Britney Spears your ringtone?”

“Maybe... It’s festive!” he defended as you laughed

“Ok love, whatever you say” 

Hope you all enjoyed and happy early Christmas to all who celebrate and a Happy Holidays everyone!!

[starfleetbotanist]

Physician, Heal Thyself (But Not Always)

🌹

It had been stupid, even he would admit that. Academy students were typically supposed to avoid bar fights. But Cupcake had been talking smack, and he'd had a few too many, so he had allowed the inevitable to happen. What he hadn't expected was for six other cadets to decide to use him as a punching bag. More surprising, though, was Bones.

He'd vaguely heard Bones trying to reason with his assailants before the roar in his ears drowned him out, but a fist to the stomach is a much more pressing matter than a pacifist doctor trying to tell you logic you don't want to hear, so he'd more or less written him off. That is, until he saw a cadet fall at his feet and turned to see his friend wading- and punching- through the crowd towards him.

He leapt at one of Cupcakes cronies as he landed a solid punch to Bones' face, causing the man to stumble back, a protectiveness he hadn't felt since Tarsus rising in him. But Bones regained his footing and gave as good as he'd gotten, before finally reaching Jim. Then he grabbed him by the collar of his uniform and dragged him from the bar, much like a mama cat with her errant kitten.

He stared at him, stunned, the entire way back to their room, Bones loudly scolding him about safety and rules the whole way, wiping blood from his now evidently broken nose. A sick feeling overcame him. What happened now? Was Bones going to leave, like Sam had?

He found himself dumped on the couch in an ungraceful heap as Bones' angry footsteps carried him to the bathroom and back. He sat on the coffee table, and Jim was relieved to see his medkit resting on his knee. He was (mostly) a model patient as Bones scrubbed at his cuts with antiseptic before using the portable dermal regen.

"You've got too damn good a brain, Jim, to go and get it knocked around by fools like that, y'hear me?"

He blinked. No, he hadn't heard him. Upon realizing that, Bones rolled his eyes before reaching over and lightly slapping his head- a move too gentle to actually hurt, and which he immediately followed with an affectionate ruffle of Jim's hair.

"This, your brain. Use it."

With that, he got up and headed back to the bathroom. Jim followed on his heels.

"That's it? You're not... More angry?"

"Jim, I knew when I signed up to be your friend there'd be risks. If a bar fight's the most danger we get in together I'd be surprised."

"But you got hurt!"

"Yeah, and you owe me for that."

He stopped in front of the mirror, opening his case again and finding the regen and a hypo. He reached up and, with a grunt, popped his nose back into place. He swore as he turned the hypo on himself, eyes watering.

"Scratch that, you really owe me," he said through gritted teeth.

"Sorry," Jim replied. He meant it. He hated seeing Bones hurt.

"Just-- use your head next time. Okay?"

"Yeah-- yeah, okay, Bones. I promise."

"Good." He washed the blood on his face and hands before turning back to face him. "Then we can forget about it."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

"Okay. Thanks, Bones."

"Anytime, kid."

🌹

Nyota held her wrist to her chest, waiting in the academy clinic. She had hurt it in combat class that day, but thankfully not too badly. The clinic was understaffed that day, and she had told Christine she was fine waiting. It was just her and two other cadets in the waiting room, after all. Not everyone was quite so patient, though.

One of the others, a command cadet, was complaining loudly, drumming his fingers on the arm of his chair, and bouncing his leg in agitation.

"How much longer is this gonna take?" He asked when Christine opened the door to call another patient back.

"Doctor McCoy or Doctor M'Benga will be able to see you soon, sir," she answered. "We will get to you as soon as we can."

Nyota prided herself on her ability to read people, and what she saw from the other cadet was not encouraging. He jumped up to his feet, crossing over to Christine with surprising speed.

"You can't just come back here!" She said, positioning herself between the cadet and the door.

"Watch me!" He snapped, grabbing her shoulder and shoving her out of the way.

Nyota rose, but she didn't need to interfere. Just as he was stepping into the hallway, he ran face first into Doctor McCoy, summoned by Christine's shout.

"Didn't you hear the lady? She said you ain't gettin' in here!" He snapped, though Nyota could see him running a clinical eye over the cadet. "Easy now. Looks like you're in withdrawal. How many stims have you taken?"

"None of your business!" The man snapped, and before anyone could stop him, caught McCoy on the side of the head with a right cross.

Christine leapt in, then, getting him into a safe hold and grabbing his arm to pin behind him as McCoy called for M'Benga to bring a sedative.

"Dammit," he swore as the other doctor handed him the hypo. "Sucker punches harder than he looks."

Once he was sedated, security called, and a treatment plan discussed for the over-use of stims to get him through the command courses, the cadet was taken to Starfleet Medical for a proper detox.

"You okay, Chris?" McCoy asked. Nyota had come to Christine's side as the cadet was taken away. The two had been friends since their first year.

"Just fine," she promised. "Didn't even fall. What about you?"

"I'll be fine," he shrugged. "Happens sometimes. Nothin' the regen can't fix."

"You might want to get on that before it swells too much, Len" M'Benga said. "I can finish up here."

"It'll hold," McCoy insisted. "But you can take that patient we just called back. C'mon, Ny, I only need one eye to see the swelling in that wrist."

"Only if you fix your eye, too," she threatened, following him back to one of the rooms.

"Wrist first," he said, taking out his tricorder. She answered his questions, let him strap the regen unit to her, and stared him into submission until he began treating himself while they waited.

"Are you sure you're alright?" She asked once they had both finished.

"Ain't that my line? Any residual pain?"

"None, thank you. Now answer me."

"I'm okay," he promised. "Not my first rodeo with someone hyped up on stims, and it won't be my last."

"Can't say I envy you."

"Yeah, well, it happens. Now, you be careful in that combat class, okay? Stretch right, and be careful which moves you use on which partners."

"I will. Thanks, Len."

"Sure, Ny."

🌹

"Scotty."

He looked up from the manual he was reading at the sound from the bathroom door.

"Ah, Doc! What can I do for you?"

"You can take a break from straining your eyes and come have some coffee."

He laughed, lowering the PADD he was reading from.

"Aye, that sounds good. What're you doin' up so early?"

He followed him into his room, where he could smell fresh coffee brewing. Like many things, McCoy seemed to prefer real coffee, and while Scotty tended to be more of a tea man, he never turned down real foods or drinks.

"Haven't been to bed yet- don't tell Jim or Spock."

He poured them both a cup, handing Scotty one of them and motioning to the sugar and creamer he'd set out.

"Aren't you the one always telling the crew the importance of a good sleep schedule?"

"Yeah, and that's why I'm askin' you not to tell on me," he grinned.

"Can you not sleep?"

"No, not really. I've been goin' over that last accident in Engineering. I've written up a few training proposals, and wanted you to read through them and tell me which you think'll work best before I submit them."

"Have you been working on this all day?"

"Since my shift ended, yeah."

Scotty saw him take two tiny pills from a bottle on his desk and take them before rubbing his eyes.

"Sorry, headache. Ibuprofen. Been at this a little too long, I think."

"Why push yourself like this, then?"

He scanned the proposals, an interdisciplinary first aid course specific to Engineering and the various injuries and accidents that could happen, a triage proposal to better prepare medical staff for what to expect when an accident is called in, and new safety guidelines and equipment inspection schedules.

"Well, every second counts, you know that. The sooner we get this smoothed out, the better. It could be life or death, and I'm not about to play games there."

"You never do," Scotty grinned, picking up a stylus and making a few notes. "I like this so far. I hope you made a lot of coffee, because I have a few ideas, too."

"I hoped you would," McCoy grinned, and the two sat down to begin work.

🌹

"You called me, Doc?"

"Mr Sulu, perfect timing!"

Doctor McCoy was standing by a selection of plants, studying them intensely.

"The botany department sent these up. They're medicinal. But the labels got mixed up, and we don't really know what's what."

"That's unusual," Sulu grinned, looking down at the selection. "She's usually more organized when making deliveries."

He began to catalogue the plants, calling to mind their uses.

"Fever few, plantain... Several of these are for stopping bleeding."

"Yeah, that's what we're hoping for. We're training our medics to learn other ways to heal in the field."

"Good idea," Sulu nodded, fixing the lables.

"Thank you for the help," McCoy grinned. "Oh, Lieutenant Lyle brought another plant, but I'm not sure what it does. It was bigger than the others, so I set it in the office. Little bastard scratched me, too."

Sulu laughed, plucking a plantain leaf and handing it to him.

"Chew on that for a minute and put it on the cut, that will help."

He heard McCoy's thanks as he went into the office. He gasped. On the desk was a rare Andorian Passionflower- spiked where its Earth counterpart was not, and blue instead of purple. In place of a label there was a note, and he recognized the handwriting.

"Ben?"

"Surprise," McCoy said, stepping in. He had the chewed leaf against his finger. "We were asked not to tell you anything."

He opened the envelope. It was handwritten anniversary card. He smiled, warmth filling him.

"Happy anniversary, you two," McCoy said, patting him on the shoulder. "There's minutes on my computer for subspace communication. He's waiting for you to call."

"Thanks, Doc," he answered, wiping sudden tears from his eyes.

McCoy patted his back again before leaving him to his call.

🌹

"Doctor?"

"Mhm?"

"Why did you do it?"

McCoy looked at Chekov, who was eyeing wound on his arm with deep concern.

"Reflex," he lied, finishing ripping his uniform shirt into bandages. He turned his eyes away, focusing on tying off and tending the wound until the ion storm ended and they could contact the Enterprise.

"Captain Kirk is right. You are a terrible liar, sir."

He snorted, tying off his makeshift sling. He'd taken a rather severe cut from a spear from one of the inhabitants of this supposedly uninhabited planet. The spear had been aimed at Chekov, but he had managed to push the kid out of the way just in time.

"Captain Kirk can mind his own business."

"Doctor..."

McCoy sighed, leaning back against the cave wall. Chekov joined him, still looking at him with wide-eyed worry.

"You remind me of Joanna."

"Huh?"

"I did it because you remind me of Joanna."

"Who is Joanna?"

"My daughter. My whole world. I don't get to see her often, but she's my pride and joy."

"And I remind you of her?"

"Yeah. Can't explain it. It's probably because you're so young, or some misplaced guilt about not being there to protect JoJo that makes me want to look out for you instead that the psychologist really doesn't wanna think too much about."

He shrugged, closing his eyes.

"That, and I'm a doctor, and your senior officer. Not gonna let you get hurt if I can help it."

Running for their lives had worn him out, it seems. Chekov studied him for a moment before placing his head on his shoulder.

"You are very much the papa I always wanted. My grandmother, she told me stories about him. He was a good man. If he was... If I had known him longer, I would have liked for him to be like you, Doctor."

He felt a strong hand ruffle his hair.

"Get some rest, kid. I'll keep watch."

Chekov smiled, allowing his own eyes to close. He fell asleep wondering if McCoy would laugh or be angry that he had become, as the captain said, a "mama bear."

🌹

Spock stood beside Captain Kirk's hospital bed, arms folded behind his back. He had come to check on the progress of McCoy's serum on their friend. But, also, he was here to check on McCoy. Nyota had expressed worry over him that morning after visiting.

"You want a seat, Spock?"

He turned as the doctor entered the room, a cup of coffee in one hand and a PADD in the other.

"No, thank you, Doctor."

McCoy set the coffee aside, moving to the bed to compare the data on the PADD to the biobed readings. As Spock watched him, he began to really notice the state the doctor was in. His eyes were bloodshot, ringed in dark circles, his hair sticking at odd angles, as though he had run his fingers through it many times. He hadn't shaved, and was looking rather gaunt.

"When did you last sleep, Leonard?"

"Does it matter, Spock?"

"I think it would matter to the captain. And... I admit to a concern, as well."

"May miracles never cease," McCoy muttered, and they both knew what miracle he was praying for.

"Doctor, you must rest. The captain's status is unlikely to change in the time it would take for you to eat and sleep."

"I can't, Spock. Not right now."

"Why?"

"Because he needs me."

"He needs all of you, Leonard. Not a shell of yourself."

McCoy's shoulders sagged at that.

"I don't want to leave him," he admitted. "I promised I wouldn't leave him."

"You do not have to leave him. You could bring a cot into this room, perhaps. Shower in the en suite, and eat the meals Nyota has been bringing you."

"When I try to sleep, Spock, all I can see is him in that chamber. In that damn body bag in my medbay. It... It hurts, Spock. In a very human way, it hurts. It- this grief, it's like a wound, Spock."

"As you so often tell me, Leonard, you are a doctor. You treat wounds, better than most. You are healing the captain. The best way to heal that grief is to continue to do so. But if you damage yourself with overwork, you will not be able to care for him to the best of your abilities."

McCoy was silent for a moment before nodding.

"You're right... Thank you, Spock."

"It is... My pleasure, Leonard."

When he visited again that night, he found McCoy asleep on a cot not far from Kirk's bed, PADD still in hand. He had showered and shaved. The plate Nyota had sent him was now empty, and someone, presumably nurse Chapel, had covered him with the knitted blanket that he usually kept on the couch in his office.

Spock allowed himself to feel relieved, and quietly retreated, turning down the lights as he did so. The next morning, Kirk woke up.

🌹

"He may be a little disoriented when he wakes up," M'Benga told the assembled officers. "It was touch and go there, and we nearly lost him a few times. But I do believe he will make a full recovery."

"You are sure?" Chekov asked, his face pale. Sulu had his hand on his back for support.

"Yes. He is stable. Now all he needs is rest."

"Thank you," Kirk spoke up, gripping one of McCoy's hands from his place beside his bed. "Bones couldn't have been in better hands."

"You remind him of that when he wakes up," M'Benga laughed quietly, his calm manner helping ease the tension in the crowd. "You can talk to him now, too. Even if he doesn't hear you, it'll help him to have friendly voices around."

Scotty coughed to hide a relieved sniffle, and patted Kirk's shoulder amiably.

"Why don't you start, Captain?"

Kirk nodded, thinking.

"Bones, you know we all love you, right? So you've gotta come back to us. It's not the same without you here yelling at me."

"Indeed, Doctor. Your colorful metaphors are... Missed." Spock looked down the line of visitors expectantly.

"Da, and you promised to let us talk to Joanna next time she called you!" Chekov watched the sleeping man eagerly.

"Yeah, she and Demora are going to space camp together," Sulu pitched in. "If you don't wake up soon, who's gonna tell them how dangerous it is?"

Nyota laughed at that, and everyone (save Spock) grinned.

"Aye, Len. And you're gonna have to be the one to tell Jaylah what happened, you know," Scotty said. "Otherwise the lassie's likely to steal a ship and come all the way from Earth to make sure you aren't still hurt."

"What about you, Uhura?" Kirk asked. "You know how he likes to hear you sing. Why don't you sing one of his favorites."

"Good idea," she nodded, thinking. "I know just the one."

Soon the medbay was filled with her soft, comforting voice.

"I'll keep you safe..."

🌹 This was a long one! Thank you for reading! This was based on a prompt by @hlabounty96 ! I hope you enjoyed! 🌹

[wornoutmouse]

Valentine's Day with Zora

I'm getting ready to watch black clover either when I finish Mob Psycho or when I finish that time when i got reincarnated as a slime. But based on what I've learned this nigga is an asshole for the most part. And that's how I wrote him. Low key kinda toxic

Idk how popular black clover is amongst the fanfic community but here goes

This would be your first Valentine in 6 years so why were you so damn nervous!? Well if anyone were to ask, it would be because of who your Valentine was. Your hands swayed as you placed each chocolate neatly in their heart shaped tray.

You weren't romantically driven, but you and Zora had been dating for 6 months and had yet to do anything nice besides roasting the dog shit out of each other. Zora was sweet for you, but would not hesitate to state his feelings which is something you thanked yet despised him for.

The man in question was currently in your room playing video games. Taking a deep breath, you summoned up all the courage you could find and shuffled your way to your target.

He was dressed casually, with no shirt and a pair of black sweats hanging low on his waist. His creepily sharp teeth on full display as he cursed at npc's. "Zozo..?"

Zora doesn't pause the game but he glances over at you briefly. "Yeah?" You roll your eyes and stand in front of the TV much to his annoyance, "Please pay attention to me." With an over the top groan, he paused the game and looked at you with an annoyed face.

"Happy Valentine's day!" You yell out and hold your chocolates in front of you with a bright smile. Zora looks down at them then looks back up at you with a concerned look on his face. "Oh for me? You shouldn't have." You pressed your lips together in a tight smile.

The tone that Zora spoke with really served to make you think that you really shouldn't have. Red eyebrows raised in acknowledgment as he plucked a square toffee from it's selected area. He observed it before popping it in his mouth.

"Real good, extravagantly stuck in my teeth now." Strike one you thought as your heart sank from the verdict. You should have thought this through. I mean, a sticky substance with shark like teeth is not the best combo.

You push your braids to the other side of your head as a nervous habit. "Well try the other ones." Zora's eyebrow twitched, you could see he really didn't want to. "Is there a reason for all this?" You huffed, "Yeah it's Valentine's day."

Zora popped a fudge centered chocolate in his mouth, "You celebrate that? I didn't take you for a hopeless schmuck." Strike two, you could feel your mood dipping to the less than happy stage. Zora sighed a little more, "I mean, what's next a card declaring your love for me?"

Strike three was immediate and you were glad you left your handwritten card on the kitchen counter. Your lower lip trembled as you wring your hands nervously. Zora seemed to catch on to the incoming flood and quickly raised his hands in submission.

"Hey, I didn't mean it like that babe, if you wrote me a card I would love to read it." You shook your head turning away as you could feel incoming tears forming. This would be the last time you'd try to do something nice for the bastard. Zora stood up and his normally comforting height only made you feel more pathetic.

"Don't be like that, come on, let me see it." Zora places his hands on your shoulders and herds you towards the living room. The sparkly envelope could be seen from a mile away the way it shined in the steel counter. Zora delicately picked up the envelope, wary of the glitter that fell when he opened it.

"Well would you look at that, I didn't know you could write in cursive." Zora tried to sound convincing but that is a hard feat when your permanent resting face is a cocky smile. Zora tossed the envelope when he realized his half-assed attempts were not helping in the slightest.

You sniffed harshly as you tried to wipe away your fallen tears. Zora tried to comfort you but you turned away with a huff, "What did I hurt your little feelings?" You ignored his attempt to playful banter and walked away. You could hear Zora following you into the living room and stood over you hauntingly as you plopped on the couch.

"How should I make it up to my baby huh? Should I go eat the rest of your candy?" You cross your arms and ignore him. Zora sat down next to you with a playful look on his face. "You want me to write you a letter back? What type of glitter should I use?"

The couch dips as Zora leans closer to you. The hate rates in your neck as you feel the tip of his nose running against your cheek. "Should I fuck you nice and silly so you forget about this stupid holiday?" You have to stop yourself from crossing your legs at such a bold sentence.

But that was Zora for you, can never be serious when it doesn't pertain to him. "Come on Y/n, you know I'm sorry. I didn't know it meant that much to you." You watched from the corner of your eyes as Zora takes a red braid and curls it in-between his fingertips. You had done it just for him yet he never commented on it.

You shake your head defiantly, "You ain't sorry, you just want me to stop being mad at you." An amused chuckle escapes Ideale's lips and you find yourself being pulled closer to him. "This must really be important to you huh?" You raise your head and look Zora in the eyes. He looks back before shaking his head.

You watch him stand up and head back to the room. For a while you felt your heart break from the thought he really didn't care about your feelings. The sound of his footsteps returning made you look again curious as the color black catches your eyes.

Zora places the box down next to you before taking a seat on the floor before you. You watch as he opens the box of candy with one hand, and places the other in your knee.

"Open your legs."

Out of habit, you do, and Zora takes the initiative to pull your pants down. You allow him to do so but remain quiet. It wasn't until you were bare from the waist down that Zora began to speak again. "You know I love you?" You nodded with a graceful eye roll, "Yeah I love me too."

Zora but down on your left thigh making you jump. "Don't be a little shit I'm trying here." A small kiss was pressed against your pussy lips as Zora pinched a small piece of chocolate from the box. They had begun to melt and he uses this to his advantage by rubbing it up and down your slit.

"Some chocolate on my chocolate." You exhale slowly as you feel the sick substance coating your sensitive skin. "That's corny as hell." Zora ignores you as he rubbed the remaining chocolate against your skin.

Once it completely dissolved, he covered your clit with his lips, licking the candy off lightly. It was a strange feeling as the melted chocolate dripped in-between your folds only to have his warm muscles following afterwards. "Do you forgive me?" "N-No."

Zora takes the time to clean your nethers fully of the chocolate in record time as you began to leak your own special nectar. Zora was a man of many annoying words and unsurprisingly he could put them all to good use when eating you out.

You could feel the threat of teeth as Zora left a wet kiss against you. Your feet flexed with electric pressure when Zora's tongue thrusts inside of you, stopping every so often to caress your clit one again. "You always feel so good against my face."

You pressed your lips tightly together to keep from making any sounds. Zora sticks two of his long fingers inside his mouth and covers them in his own saliva. A hitched moan leaves you as they are shoved inside without a care in the world.

"Oh so you can make noise?" You glared at your boyfriend as his bony fingers pumped inside of you. During each retreat of his hand, you could feel his knuckles bump ever so slightly against the top of your cavern. "You're a real dick you know that?" Zora laughs darkly, "Only for you."

A wide grin stretched across his face as you rolled your hips against his palm desperately. "Don't worry I'm going to start, just be patient." The feeling of his fingers spreading apart in a scissoring motion felt illegal as you feel yourself slowly stretching for him. "Faster!"

At that he pulls his digits out and allows his pants to drop. "If you're ready enough to request a speed adjustment, you're ready enough to take the rest."

Of course like everywhere else on him, his dick was long with an am dark red mushroom tip and at this point in time, extremely hard. "Happy Valentine's." He muttered, and as you pondered your retort, Zora focused on pressing the tip of his cock inside.

Contrary to popular belief, two fingers is not enough stretching for the average penis. So Zora got the glorious opportunity to watch your face contort from the full stretch of his cock. "If...this is your way of apologizing, you're doing a shit job at it Zora!"

Zora licked his lips as he looked where you two were connected. "You're as sharp as always huh?" Zora slips his hand in-between your many braids and cups the back of your head bringing you up for a kiss.

As he nudged his hips deeper, his tongue traced your mouth soothingly. To your shame you moaned into the kiss, encouraging Zora to try harder. Your lower bodies became one as you ravaged each other's mouths. "You're an ass you know that?" You mumbled when you separated.

Zora nodded as he focused on fucking you just right. Your hips were raised off of the couch forcing you to hold yourself up by your elbows. "I feel like you've forgiven me from how much your pussy is shaking." You grit your teeth still holding on to your bitterness, "I'm only going to cum because you haven't fucked me in ages."

Zora sighed and folded your body against the couch. "Can never take a compliment can you?" The couch creaked with each pump. Zora's legs were spread in a low crouch as he leaned over your limp body.

The feeling of being full and the heavy stimulation was welcomed as a hot orgasm goes through your body. Zora smirked as he fucked you though your high before pulling out and tucking himself back in.

You furrowed your eyebrows when you realised he wasn't getting himself off. "What about you?" Zora shrugged at your question, "That was my apology. Happy Valentine's day."

While you never got a genuine apology, you never did say anything when you found a peice of your letter in his wallet.

[phrynewrites]

291. “Those things you said yesterday… Did you mean them?” any ship or au you like!

Hi hun! I got so so so inspired by this prompt and basically wrote a one shot in the jasco teachers au for it aha. This takes place during the "October" chapter of the fic. Hope you enjoy!

*

After reviewing her notes and making four trips to the teacher’s lounge to refill her coffee mug, Jasmine decided she was getting nowhere with this whole mentorship thing.

Yes, her classroom management was lacking. Lessons she thought would be a hit were missing the mark on engagement. She had only about three quarters of her students’ submissions for each assignment. But why did Angeria think pairing her with Bosco as a mentor would make a difference?

She clicked her pen a few times, hovering over her notebook, trying to find something from her notes to condense into a report before her (mandated, ugh) after school meeting with Bosco. She skimmed over the fact that when Bosco walked back into the classroom, their students fell silent; the sound of their heels clicking against the speckled floor tiles rang down the hall. And yet, when given the chance, the students were also sharing what was going on in their lives with them, detailing practices and overwhelming projects in other classes, sharing jokes that Bosco volleyed back with ease.

Reading through what notes she was able to take between being in awe that her sixth period class, which was usually an abject terror and brought her to the brink of quiting every day, were engaged in a set of French grammar examples, everything seemed normal and absolutely effortless, which was the conclusion that Jasmine was afraid of. If it really were effortless, then her trying didn’t really matter, only natural talent did, and it was clear now that she didn’t have much of it.

Every note she had was a gripe about how effortless the lesson felt or how effortlessly stunning Bosco looked with that polka-dot scarf. And giving instructions in the most seductive, surely illegally sexy, french accent she’s ever heard—she scribbled that down at least twelve times during the observation.

Okay, more like twenty.

At the sound of those same silencing heels coming down the hallway, Jasmine jotted down a couple of quick notes, looking up as Bosco entered, brushing Jasmine’s rainbow garland out of their way before settling in.

“So,” Bosco begins, crossing their legs. They’re only inches away from Jasmine and she’s acutely aware of it. She can see the chips in their black nail polish, can smell their spicy perfume. She can feel ten types of frustration well up inside of her and settle in her throat, blocking any words from coming out.

They wait, trailing their glance from Jasmine’s ponytail to her pom-pom covered sweater.

Shit, now she’s supposed to say something.

“I just…” Jasmine glances at her notes, only landing on “I want to murder them and steal their legs,” which was written hastily during the independent practice, in which Bosco sat at their desk, feet up on a filing cabinet, grading a few thick packets while every single student worked on their French satire project.

Jasmine tried again. “I’m still trying to sort through just exactly how you make this work. I mean, I have that class right before you and they’re absolute monsters.”

“Well they are thirteen,” Bosco shoots back with a tilt of their head. “They haven’t evolved into their final forms yet.”

Sure, Jasmine thought. But they didn’t even act like normal thirteen year olds with her. And god, it was so annoying to not understand why it was only with her.

“Yeah, but it’s like beyond effortless with you, like you walk in and they’re perfectly placed and interested in the lesson, and speaking fucking French. I couldn’t even get them to participate in English, a language, as you’ve already put it, that they know.” Jasmine’s hands were moving along with each pointed, rambling word, cutting through the air with precision. She sees Bosco part those stupid, incessantly red lips, but goes on nonetheless. “I put in so much time and effort and stress and it’s like you walk right in there and just charm them with a sexy French accent and…and it’s all natural. I can work harder—and I probably do—but I’ll never get as far.”

Jasmine wipes her eyes with the heels of her hands, pulling them away to find mascara smudged across them and a far less sympathetic look on Bosco’s face than she was expecting.

“I imagine you’re not trying to do this,” Bosco finally responds, “but it’s very diminishing to me when all you can describe is how easily I do things, how I don’t work hard.” They’re measured, careful, as though Jasmine is a field of landmines not yet set off.

She tries very hard not to be set off, picking up her pen.

“Put it down and just listen,” Bosco tries again, this time stern. It rips through Jasmine in a way she could describe as frustrating, but in a different way.

“I am listening,�� Jasmine throws back, raking her hands through her hair, pulling out the scrunchie. She knows she must look wild, but the thought is quickly abandoned. “I am trying to listen. I go to Kornbread and I listen. I go to Angie and I listen. I go to your room and I listen. I listen all day and I still come up with nothing.

“And I get the feeling that you haven’t had to do this in a while, like you just walk in here and you’re so cool and collected and confident, like you’ve never had to try like I’m trying right now—”

Bosco shuts their binder pointedly and stands up, silencing Jasmine. “”I’m done taking time out of my day just to hear you rant at me about my lack of hard work.” Bosco eyes her, locking in. “If you’re ready to analyze your problems and receive help, you can come to me on your own time.”

When Bosco shut the door, Jasmine sank her head into her hands, letting out a heaving sob.

*

“Knock knock,” Jasmine says, firmly planted inside Bosco’s doorway. “Can’t knock, I’m holding coffee.”

Bosco doesn’t look up, their fingers marching across their keyboard with agility. “What do you—”

“I’m sorry and you’re right,” Jasmine spits back, shifting the coffee in her hands.

Bosco closes the computer slowly, meeting Jasmine with a slick smile.

Jasmine tries even harder to balance the coffees.

“I don’t appreciate being interrupted,” Bosco waves her in. “But I’ll accept it for the garbage coffee and “you’re right.”

“It’s not garbage, it’s Starbucks.” Jasmine felt herself growing whiny and drew it back in. “I thought you were from Seattle, so I thought you’d like it.”

“I am and I don’t,” Bosco replied, reaching out as Jasmine slid the black coffee toward them. She was shocked when they slid it back, reaching out for the other, much lighter cup. “I worked at an actually good coffee shop, so I have my loyalties.”

Jasmine hums, settling into the chair beside Bosco’s desk. She opened up her notebook, now containing thoughts like “student selected grouping,” and “reward system? Collective or individual?” to float by Bosco.

“So I was thinking about yesterday—”

Bosco sets their cup down, pulling Jasmine’s focus. “I also have, and I really need to know something. Those things you said yesterday…did you actually mean them?”

They took another sip, waiting for Jasmine to fill the space. And Jasmine was finding it difficult for the first time. It was weird to be sitting in Bosco’s room, alone with them, talking about their feelings. But what was even weirder was that Bosco didn’t seem like their usual self, like a quick and viscous storm, confidently striking. Fiddling with the lid of their cup, focusing intently on wiping a stray bead of creamer from the side with their thumb, they seemed almost…human. It made it difficult for Jasmine to hold onto her ill-founded hatred.

“No,” Jasmine starts tentatively. “I was in my feelings and you were there, so you took the brunt of them.

“Huh…okay,” Bosco nods, a smile tugging at their lips again before turning cloying. “So you meant none of it?”

“That’s what I said.”

“So you didn’t mean that my accent is overwhelmingly sexy?”

Jasmine gulped, the twenty iterations “sexy accent” in her notes immediately coming back to her. She shut her notebook and tried to speak smoothly, “I’m sure you’re adding adverbs on my behalf.”

“That’s all you’re going to refute?” Bosco smiled against the lip of the coffee cup. They opened their mouth, but was cut off by the bell.

“I’ve got to…teach.” Jasmine scrambled to her feet and pointed at the door. “I…um…I’ll see you seventh period.”

Bosco stood as well, making long strides. They insisted on holding the door open for Jasmine as she passed.

“À tout à l’heure, Mademoiselle Kennedie,” Bosco called after her, releasing a cackle like a siren's call when Jasmine dropped her coffee.

Mademoiselle Kennedie

Fuck.