#i hope i can get there in an hour i'm so curious!!!!

[letsgoletsgetit08]

ateez unholy hours - kinks

some kinks I could see ateez members having.

warnings: MDNI!, mentions of freakteez idk, kinks

author's note: I'm quite literally running a fever right now and this is where my brain went. I have two psych degrees and this is what I'm using them for. If you're offended by any of this, I guess scroll on, it's not even serious.

word count: 700ish

hongjoong: somnophilia. hear me out, the man keeps weird hours. you're not guaranteed to be awake when he gets home. he's hesitant at first, but you've had a long discussion about it, and he starts to be brave and explore it, he's SO hooked. watching your face scrunch up in the dim light at his first touches, only for it to turn to gasps of pleasure as you wake up to him pushing inside you. it's 3am on a tuesday and neither of you could care less.

seonghwa: finacial domination. look, the guy has money, there's no denying that. but the idea of you telling him how he can spend it? it fucks with his brain in the best ways. oh, he wants that new lego set? he better be good for you all week and prove he deserves it. when he spends within his means of the allowance you give him and you reward him for it? his brain short circuits. he hopes he forgets what bank he uses, he never wants to think about being in control of his account again.

yunho: size kink this, breeding kink that. i hear you and i agree HOWEVER, that man is eating your ass. sorry. he just is. the man is captain of freakteez and he's the king of oral fixation. he's obsessed with finding different ways to get you off, and his sexual appetite knows no bounds. he's not mingi, he's not afraid of getting his hands dirty (metaphorically). you might be worried about it being unsanitary at first, but once he gets you in the shower and helps you wash - everywhere - you feel much better about it. and let me tell you, you won't regret it.

yeosang: ear fetish. i read a fic (shout out to op) about this, forgot what the specific -philia is called and I really don't want to fumble around on google to find it, but all i can say is yes. yeosang is an odd duck but also a rule follower, which leads me to believe he's very curious about the taboo, but not something so taboo that would be risky or anything. he just wants to lick your ears a little. let him. just look at him and tell me you wouldn't let him do it.

san: he wants to fuck your titties. hear me out, he has smallish hands already, which means that even if you're rocking some a cups, they would feel sizeable in his hands. hell, his tits might even be bigger than yours. doesn't matter. he's squeezing and torturing (pos) yours any chance he gets. something about this whiny pouty water sign man begging you let him do it because he's so curious just. ugh. yeah.

mingi: chastity. mingi is sooooo subby, especially for the right person and for that person (pick me!) he would be so eager to please and to prove that he could be good. he's constantly poking our eyes out with that thang on stage, as well as touching it subconciously any chance he gets. can you imagine, locking him up for all of tour? his whiny phone calls. teasing him. how desperate and needy he'd be for you when he finally got home and you could give him some relief.

wooyoung: body hair. i stand by him being a lowkey furry and you know what, whatever that man wants, tbh. i just think the first time you stopped shaving for the winter, it would unlock a whole different side of him. he wouldn't be able to stop touching your newly fuzzy legs and he'd bury his pretty nose in your softy, downy armpits. he'd finally show you the cat ears he's been wanting to wear while he fucks you. meow meow.

jongho: this mischievous little shit sweetheart wants to push the limits on what he can get away with as far as fucking you in public goes. fingers between your thighs at the restaurant, fucking you on a balcony at a hotel, on the tour bus, plane bathroom, green room on set for music video shoot, car sex, you name it, he's trying. the two of you are always reappearing after being mysteriously gone for too long to be innocent, clothes rumpled, cheeks flushed, matching shit eating grins poorly concealed on your faces.

[haikyu-mp4]

The Board Game

word count; 909 – f!reader, part 2 of this

You and Hirugami sat by the window with a sushi plate between you. Neither could decide what you wanted, leading to a shared menu with a side of shy smiles and warm cheeks. The topics of conversation ranged from politics to fun facts, and you never stopped unless it was to take another bite. Entirely consumed with each other, neither of you noticed when one of Hirugami’s best friends walked in the door.

"Sachirooooo!" Hoshiumi exclaimed loudly when he noticed his friend sitting by the window.

"Korai?" Hirugami jumped in his seat, turning his head so quickly that you wondered if it hurt his neck. "What are you doing here?" They did a short handshake before Hoshiumi turned to the other person sitting by the table with a mischievous look.

"I was getting a coffee before my next class. What are the two of you doing?" Hoshiumi’s voice went lighter, teasing him, his eyes seemingly asking a different question. He made a swirly gesture to the table and took notice of your shared food. Both you and Hirugami’s cheeks flushed darker red, glancing at each other.

"I'm y/n," you introduced yourself, ignoring the question, and lifted a hand for the shorter man to shake. He took it, winking playfully at you.

"Hoshiumi, nice to meet you." Hirugami always admired Hoshiumi’s confidence in talking to literally anyone, for better or for worse. "You're lucky, going on a date with such a handsome man," Hoshiumi said, putting his hands on Hirugami’s broad shoulders and shaking them while he kept eye contact with you.

"I know I am," you answered, feeding off the vibrant energy he brought with him. Hirugami’s heart beat faster, and he couldn't help but grin happily at your answer, which you noticed. His smile was one of your favourite things about him so far.

"Don't let me disturb you, lovebirds. I'll leave you alo-" Hoshiumi moved to the edge of the table again, but stopped talking when you were looking at each other instead of him, seemingly having a telepathic conversation of your own. He wondered if you would even notice if he just walked away. "Bye-bye."

"Bye, Korai."

"Nice to meet you, Hoshiumi."

"He's so weird," Hirugami chuckled awkwardly after a few seconds of silent smiles.

"He was nice. I can see why you're friends." You raised your chopsticks and picked up another bite of sushi, looking up at him before tucking the food between your lips. "So, where were we?"

"I believe I just told you how nice you look today," Hirugami answered with as much confidence as he could muster. He already felt something sweet for you but was unsure about whether you were just like that or if you felt something too.

"Sachirooo," you cooed and chuckled, completely charmed and not even noticing that you used his first name. "You look good as well; I like that shirt on you," you said back while nodding as if analysing him like an art piece. Hirugami checked all your boxes so far, and you couldn't wait to get to know him more. Your eyes strayed to the shelves of board games that stood along the opposite wall, lifting a curious eyebrow. "Wanna play a game?"

"A game?" You walked over there and picked up your favourite strategic game, Carcassonne. You turned the box to show him while walking back. "You have amazing taste in board games," he claimed, and anyone could see how smitten he was with you.

"You know this one?" Your eyes went wide with a look that reminded Hirugami of a little kid who was told she could get another cookie. "It's my favourite." Your voice was soft, and it warmed his ears.

"I hope you're ready to lose, sweetheart." It was the first time he referred to you by a nickname, and you could positively say you enjoyed it.

"Honey, you're the one who should be ready to fall off that high horse of yours," you countered. Hirugami could swear his heart melted at this point.

"It's on!" You two played for hours, always catching up to each other in points and looking into each other's eyes intensely, trying to read their strategy. Still, you couldn’t help but help each other too.

"Are you sure you want to put it there? I think there are better opportunities here."

"You're right. Thanks, Hirugami."

"No problem."

"I wouldn't do that. If you turn it around and place it in here, you get half the area covered in one move.

"I didn't even see that road. Thanks."

By the time you agreed to stop, the two of you had won equally as many rounds and it took everything not to settle it. But not settling it was a weird way of agreeing this was not the end. You cleaned up and walked out of the cafe, conversation still ongoing. "I had a lot of fun with you," Hirugami admitted when you had to go your separate ways.

"Me too, we should do it again sometime," you answered, standing up on the tip of your toes to peck his cheek, once again tinting it red. "You're my only worthy opponent."

"I'll text you, we can meet for a rematch?"

"Definitely." You looked contently at each other, lost in the other's eyes. Both were slowly walking backwards, not wanting to be the first to turn away until you had to.

"Bye, y/n."

"Bye, Hirugami."

The Schoolyear Series ║ masterlist

[mynonah]

Oh my God, thank you SO MUCH!!! <3

Falling For You - (Klaine Secret Santa 2023 Fic) - Chp 1

I had signed up for the Klaine Secret Santa and was paired up to write something for the lovely and talented @mynonah.

Thank you for all of your beautiful artwork and everything you do for the fandom. Thank you for your patience - and I hope you like the fic. You gave me a fantastic assortment of things to choose for prompts . It was challenging at first to decide which combination of them for your story!

Many thanks to my betas and my friend, @iris7124 for her artwork for this fic.

Well . . I'm still writing - this should be no surprise to people who know me 😉 - so I'll be posting the chapters as soon as I get them edited. Not sure if the rating may change as I write, if it does, I'll make sure to mention it in the notes.

Link for the story under the cover art.

Happy Holidays and Happy New Year!

[oreo-creampie]

“𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐨��𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭”

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: ex-boyfriend!geto, fuck machine with a dildo that has a knot, begging/yearning/praise/confessions/he’s a little condescending/teases you, bondage, overstimulation, squirting, lighting pussy eating, suguru’s tongue is pierced, making out, biting, light size kink, he calls you lil mama, love and beautiful, pussy drunk/love drunk suguru is a desperate sap for you in this one who really wants you back

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧! 'I can take care of you. you won't need anyone but me' with possessive Geto, please🙏

Fey; she is finally here! I hope y'all enjoy! @ryomance I made myself tear up a little but then again I'm a cry baby, idk he’s had me with this one I would be swooning and giving him little pieces of my heart

The door slides open letting light flood into the dark sex room. You blink a few times adjusting to the dim golden light. “Suguru, please!” You’re desperately beg for his attention.

Suguru’s cock ache at the sight. Just knowing he had you tied up in the other room waiting for him to give you attention kept him hard for the past hour.

The machine is bullying your puffy, sore, dripping wet cunt with a fat dildo. It’s knot is too fat tugging your cunt on the way out. You jolt when the machine mercilessly stuffs it back in.

Franticly pleading, “Sug-ruuuunnn!” Writhing rubbing against the rope. Your attempts to twist your hips away from the relentless toy is pathetic. The knot spits your cunt wide open, your body jolts, pussy spasming, and thighs quiver.

You’re drooling over how Suguru’s heavy cock sways when he walks. You want to feel him so badly the toy is too much but it's not Suguru. It’s not his fat cock, you’ve missed how he fills and splits you open with his big heavy cock.

Suguru’s silence is crushing, you cheeks burn as you beg, “Please touch me!” His cock throbs from how sloppy wet your squelching cunt sounds when the dildo sinks in deep.

Your whines are so needy and pitiful. His cock aches with the need to feel you spasming, soaking and gripping his cock. It’s maddening.

His lips curl into a cold, sadistic smirk. After three years of regretful yearning it took date crashing and some flirting to get you back to his apartment where he could tie you up.

If you can't walk straight in the morning you'll have to stay and recover in his bed. Giving him some more time for round two so he can memorize how your pussy soaks and grips his cock. That’s all he needs, just a little more time hearing you cry, moan and whimper his name like your his needy slut.

His gaze warms with a hungry intense passion as he admires you. Suguru is starving and you’re tied up, legs spread serving your cunt to him. “‘S beautiful. You’re here in front of me and I miss you still. I miss the love in your eyes when you looked at me.”

Suguru could use and fuck you however he wants for tonight only and then you’re losing his number again. You just really need his thick cock filling your needy cunt up. You won't fall for his words.

Any harshness to your tone falters to a pathetic whine, “I didn't miss you that much!!!” Tilting your head back, thick tears trickle down your face. You’re cumming too hard, squirting on the toy your swollen pussy dripping, quivering, and tightly gripping the dildo you wish was Suguru’s cock instead.

Suguru stands behind you, the top of your head reaching his chest. It’s so condescending how he looks down at you insisting, “I've missed seeing you squirt, I wish it was on my cock, see its not hard to be honest with yourself.” Kissing the top of your head, “But I guess you can lie to yourself all you want.”

Leaning down, lowering his voice, “I'm curious since you didn't miss me that much why are you here?” He’s mocking you, toying with you still after he left you at the mercy of his fucking fuck machine. The thing had you begging god for mercy in between your loud sobs.

You’re so vulnerable, soft and squishy, so beautiful. The tightness of the rope highlighting the soft fat of your thighs as it pudges.

Reminding yourself, “To cum! Nnnnnothing more! We aren't talking anymore after this!” The suddenness in which he stops touching you in jarring.

Suguru twists your words against you. “You’re only here to cum? Wellll since you’ve done just that beautiful.” The machine stops with a mash of a button, “I’ll untie you, after aftercare you can leave.” Half of the dildo is splitting your swollen cunt open.

You franticly complain, “What? But I thought?!” You’re words falter into needy cries when he wheels the machines back, gliding the toy out.

Suguru groans admiring what a gapping, swollen, dripping wet mess your pussy has become. It’s taking everything within him to restraint himself from splitting your puffy pussy open.

Reiterating, “You wanted to cum, you didn't just that, you don't need me or my cock right? That’s not what you’re here for.” He grabs the rope above your head, leaning in close with a cruel smirk, “Unless you have something you want to tell me.”

Closing your eyes, “….I want you.”

It’s not enough.

Feigning dumb Suguru tilts his head to the side, furrowing his thin brows. “Want me to what? Be a good girl look me in eyes while you’re begging for me.” Looking into his warm dark brown eyes. The passion in his dark chocolate brown eyes makes your heart flutter.

Suguru croons, “Tell me lil mama what you need.” His gaze softens, cupping your cheek. Slowly dragging his large thumb across your cheek, whilst leaning in close. You can’t look anywhere but Suguru’s beautiful face.

Your bound body flushes with heat. “Fuck me! Please I need you! I’ve missed your stupidly fat cock.” His in soft lips curling in a gentle playful smile.

It’s still not enough. Your pretty, gentle pleas aren’t enough, he needs to hear you scream it whilst he’s fucking you.

He steps back and your face drops with disappointment as you plea, “Please! Fuck me, please Suguru!” Your brows pinch with frustration and your beautiful eyes glisten with tearful desperation.

Walking to his dresser of toys, he pulls a draw open and shifts through its contents. You can’t look away, his beautiful broad shoulders, slim waist, and a bubbly ass are captivating

Suguru encourages you whilst looking through part of his collection. “You can beg better than that, don’t tell me you forgot what I fucked into your beautiful head three years ago.” You can hear the coy smirk in his soft voice that barely conceals his anger.

“I don’t want a toy, I want you to untie me so I can run my fingers through your hair, scratch your back and feel you up while you fuck me.” Suguru turns around, caught in his gaze the last words slip off your tongue like honey. “I miss…how it feels to cum on your cock.”

Suguru croons, “Aww that can’t be the only thing you miss about me?” Walking over to untie you. There are too many thing about him you’ve spent countless nights missing.

You glaring up at him, “Why should I miss someone who shoved me away and emotionally shut down when he was with me?” This is messy, but you’re willing to argue and fuck with your too hot for your own good ex.

Suguru carefully unties you, rubbing his thumb over where the rope left marks. “I was a self sabotaging asshole, let me show you how I’ve changed.” Your legs wobble when they touch the floor, whilst your stiff shoulders ache.

Suguru sweeps you off feet cradling you to his chest. You hate how safe and warm it feels when he holds you. Even more than you hate how you want to kiss his chest.

Reminding yourself by grumbling aloud, “Was? You’re definitely still out here sabotaging people’s dates.”

Proudly smiling, “And I would do it again, he couldn’t make you smile, laugh and cum like I can. I can take care of you,” Suguru carries you out of the room and down the hallway towards a cracked open dark wooden door.

Suguru nudges the door open with his foot showing you his bedroom lit by an arrangement of various long and short thin white candles. With rose petals scattered along his light gray sheets, his dark bedspread folded neatly at the bottom of the oversized bed.

You can't give it to him so remark, “Rose petals? Candles? It’s almost romantic.” You hate how it’s working, how your heart flutters at the sight. Quickly you try to sour it. “Seems you have this on hand for just any women you bring home.”

He carefully sets you on the bed, the rose petals soft like his bedsheets. It smell like body wash, you briefly think of all the nights he’s laid in bed after a shower. His naked body stretched out on the sheets your laying on.

Suguru’s cheeks flush pink as he admits, “Nope I use the rose petals and candles for my baths still. It reminded me of you so I didn’t stop when we broke up.” He’s slowly looking you up and down, like he’s trying to memorize the sight of you in his bed.

He stands up admiring you on his bed, the smirk on his face softens to a gentle wishful smile. The passionate yearning in his dark chocolate eyes crushes your resolve for this to be the last time you see him.

In the flickering candle light Suguru is careful balance of romantically beautiful and rugged handsome in the the flickering candle light. His arms flex when he fixes his hair in a bun, and your cunt clenches at the sight

You can’t stop yourself from spitting in residual hurt. “I stopped cause it reminded me too much of you. And I miss you, you’re an asshole, I hate that I miss you.” He climbs onto the bed spreading your legs apart and dipping his head between your legs.

You have to use both hands to keep his long thick hair back. He groans dragging his soft tongue between your legs. The hard warm metal ball of his tongue piercing when it presses against your clit makes you writhe in intense pleasure.

“Ohhhhh fuck that feels nnnn!” Tilting your head back, loudly moaning his name.

Suguru swipes his tongue over your clit two more times then gives her a sloppy loud kiss. “I hate me too for it,” Grabbing his fat cock and nudging your soft lips. “But I can’t change the past, what I can do is spend the rest of my life showing you how in love with you I’ve always been if you let me.” It’s dangerous to be caught in his intense loving gaze. Who are you kidding it was dangerous to get up and leave with him, the moment you stood up from that dinner table your fate was sealed.

He leans down, and you swipe his hair to one side, it fall next to your face. Spreading your fingers on his chest, fondling his thick hard pecs, fuck he’s so handsome with his broad muscular chest.

You whine “Fuck me! Suguru!” Slowly dragging his cock up along your wet slit to rub your soft wet clit with his cock head. He so observant, memorizing the way your thighs tremble as you grind your clit on his fat head.

Softly nudging your lips apart with a gentle thrust, gliding his fat head in. Suguru leans back watching as the soft lip of his cock head slips inside you. He loves how it tugs on your tight cunt gently before slipping out. “No matter how much time I get with you it will never be enough by away for so long has made me so greedy for your attention. I need you all to myself.”

He groans, furrowing his thin brown. “Fuuck! I was so stupid to waste the past three years of my life away from you.” Slowly pushing his fat cock in stretching out your dripping wet little hole. “I could have spent of showing you every day how you mean the world to me my love.” Suguru admires how beautiful the color of your pussy’s lips is against his pale cock.

Suguru confesses, “I was so lost and scared but amongst all of that you were trying so hard to reach me out to me and I stupidly walked away. I’m sorry I hurt you.” Swiping his long thick hair to one side and grabs your hands holding them above you head.

He leans down repeating, “I'm sorry isn't enough to make up for it.” Pouring his intense, passion yearning into a slow and deepening kiss that as you parting your lips for his tongue. It’s familiar to follow his lead, it feels so good to kiss and hold him whilst he’s balls deep in you.

Suguru pulls enough to tell you, his voice breathy from the sweet pleasure of your soaking wet cunt clenching his cock. “It took me wanting to become the kind of man who can give you what you want and deserve to help myself become a better man.” He groans, picking up his pace, you can feel his yearning each thrust. Even though you’re here beneath him Suguru fucks you like he misses you still.

He hunches over burying his face into your neck, biting down as he lets your hands go to gently grab your hips. Squishing your soft pudgy fat crease your hips make when your legs fold.

His pace momentarily falters when you scratch his muscular back side. Digging your nails into his shoulders as he fucks you harder, fucking you into a dumb cock hungry slut.

Softly cupping your face whilst gently sliding his large soft hand over your hip and up your side. Slowly dragging his hand back down crasassing your body, stopping at the bend of your knee Suguru wraps your leg around his waist.

Leaning down letting some of his body weight pin you in place, you could squirm and writhe but not enough to run away from his merciless thrust. An intense contrast to how softly he’s touching you and his gentleness in his voice.

Kissing your forehead, keeping his rough harsh pace steady. Suguru is reaching so feel you could feel him underneath your belly button. As your body jolts from the intense pleasure of his cock head bruising your cervix. “There wasn’t a day that passed I didn’t think about you.”

Suguru desperately begs. “Please love don’t let this be our last night together. I need to be yours’, I don’t want to go back to how we used to be but start something better and create a loving, cozy home.”

all fics

[violetrainbow412-blog]

A fair payment [W. W.]

Willy Wonka x fem!reader

word count: 1.5k

People who might be interested: @strugglingwriterwattpad @cattail5 [Timothée masterlist]

some minor Wonka spoilers I guess! If you like it, tell me in the comments, that will make me happy :)

“Can you mend it?” Willy asked, carefully holding his emerald green jacket that had the sleeve seam torn.

The boy had arrived a couple of weeks ago to turn the world of everyone present in the laundry upside down and, honestly, you were already beginning to enjoy his presence. You looked in the background at the blackboard that Noodle used at night to give him lessons in the hope that he would learn to read because, according to the girl's words, because of that he was almost eaten by a tiger. But in the man's words, what was important was the almost part. 

However, tonight he had asked you especially to go to his room, because he had a problem that he thought only you could solve.

“I think so, I just have to pass the needle a couple of times” you smiled.

Since your arrival Mrs. Scrubbit had used your sewing skills for her own benefit, because after all you had ended up in that mess trying to save a little to be able to buy the necessary materials to make a pretty dress that would be worth enough to advance in the business. Although, obviously, that had not been possible.

"Thank you! I'm afraid that's my only jacket."

“It will be ready in no time. I’ll just go to my room and come back, okay?” you said kindly, placing the garment in the boy's lap and earning a sweet smile from the aforementioned.

Just as Willy had his little briefcase for his chocolates, you had your own, full of threads, needles, and buttons, which you just had to grab from the floor to get everything you needed. When you arrived back you settled at the little table and he remained attentive to your every movement, pulling out a chair so he could observe what you were about to do.

“There was a boy on the ship who helped me with these things,” he began to tell you, keeping his curious nose on your shoulder “But I never thought about learning. You know, for when I had to be alone”

“Well, it's lucky you ended up here. We are a curious collection of workers,” you murmured ironically, referring to all the people gathered there against their will by the work of fate "What did you do on the ship?"

"Cook. Mostly sweet things, but I also know a couple of useful non-chocolate-related recipes. I was the chef,” he said, and you laughed at the exaggerated way he pronounced the last bit.

Willy began to tell you about some of the adventures he had had on the high seas and you listened attentively as the tip of the needle went in and out to join the fabric. It only took a few minutes to get his clothes looking like new, taking the liberty of repairing other places that also needed it.

“Put it on,” you asked, trying not to look at him too much when he did so or pay attention to the way the jacket fit him perfectly.

"It is perfect! You can't even tell it was torn, huh?” he said with emotion, feeling with his hands as much as he could. “How much do I owe you?”

“Oh, it's nothing.”

“I insist,” the man murmured. His curly hair bounced across his cheeks as he sat next to you and he lifted his small briefcase off the floor, opening it to reveal all the little bottles of ingredients. “Your talent for mine. It's a fair exchange."

You had to admit that the chocolates you had eaten were a complete delicacy, but a part of you didn't want to get used to that luxury or you knew that when Willy was gone you would miss his sweetness. In the literal and figurative sense.

Locked in that laundry it was impossible to meet many people your age and Noodle was your greatest company, as if he were a little sister to you. But now that he was there, there was a certain happiness in chatting with him, much more now that his ingenious mind had devised a way to get you out of there even if it was just for a few hours to see the light of day and get coins from the sale of the chocolates to free you of the enormous debt to Mrs. Scrubbit.

“What flavor do you want to try today? Do you want me to add some unicorn skin glitter? Rays of sunlight from a twilight on the seashore? Tears of an African crocodile?”

“Just give me something you think I need,” you replied softly.

Willy thought about it for a moment, because it wasn't the kind of answer he would have expected. What was he supposed to give you that night? A little hope? Happiness? Nostalgia? It was difficult to decide.

Through his bright eyes you watched him reflect and just a second later his hands began to work. You noticed there was a hint of mischief in his smile as he poured milk, chocolate, and the contents of a couple of jars into the processor, glancing at you from the corner of his eye from time to time.

“What are you going to do when we get out of here?” he asked suddenly, not neglecting the tasks.

“Working in a sewing workshop, I guess.”

“Why don't you open your own fashion house?” Willy suggested carefreely, as if it were a very easy thing to do, “You are a great dressmaker.”

“And you are a great dreamer”

“It's my best quality,” he exclaimed, almost offended. You waited a moment before answering.

“I just don't think it's that simple. It requires effort, time, and a lot of money…”

“We will have everything,” he interrupted you, with that optimism that characterized him. Suddenly he stopped what he was doing and one of his hands traveled to take yours. “When I open my factory, we will all be able to fulfill our dreams. And you are going to have a fashion house, I promise you.”

“You make a lot of promises,” you responded, blushing.

“And he planned to fulfill them all. I always do it"

Maybe there was something about the softness of his grip on your hand or perhaps the sparkle in his eyes that made you look away out of sheer nervousness. He seemed to be good and innocent, to the point that he probably didn't even realize how close he was to you or how inappropriate the position would be if Noodle ever walked in.

A tap interrupted your moment and then he abruptly pulled away, excited to show you the product he had just made. It was a pretty circular candy that was bright pink and seemed to be emanating smoke from the inside.

"What's that?"

“You'll have to try it to find out,” he murmured, as he extended the treat in your direction.

You had to admit that you were somewhat curious to discover what the man was offering you, so you took it between your fingers carefully, and even under his watchful gaze you took a bite.

At first it tasted like ordinary chocolate, but then it took on a strange tone, which made you feel a certain warmth in your chest that spread to your cheeks. It was a most pleasant feeling, like bubbly joy combined with the embarrassment of a hug.

You thought for a moment about what flavor that could be, without any success, until after a few seconds you realized that it wasn’t a flavor in itself, but a feeling, an experience... Was it love that Willy had given you?

“How does it taste?”

“Yummy,” you responded, covering your mouth so he wouldn’t see the wet chocolate on your tongue, but also to hide your smile “Delicious, actually. What does it contain?”

“A special and secret ingredient”

"Oh, come on! Aren’t you going to tell me?”

“I just want to know if I got it right,” he murmured and you frowned slightly, not understanding him “About what you asked for. Did I give you something you needed?”

You had to bite your lip to keep from smiling again, your cheeks feeling hot from the simple fact that he was looking at you. You thought that this could even be a love potion that you had consumed without thinking about it, just because he was the one who was offering it to you.

“We could say yes”

“We're even, then,” he exclaimed as he waved the sleeve of his jacket and you nodded in amusement, eating the rest of the chocolate he had made for you.

A yawn leaving your lips made you aware of how exhausted you were and although you didn't love the idea, you knew it was time to leave.

“It's late, I should go to sleep before we wake anyone up.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Willy said quickly, getting up from his seat to accompany you to the exit. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Rest,” you said kindly, and, gathering courage, you leaned forward a little to say goodbye with a hug that he gladly returned.

As you walked down the hall to your shabby, damp room, you thought that it probably wouldn't have even taken a love potion to fall for the charms of the pleasant chocolatier. You just needed one of his smiles.

[scarlet-bee]

I stayed up till morning last night reading the wiki pages for the DDLC characters, even though I've never played or watched videos of the game. No wonder it was so popular, god damn

[bunny-jpeg]

Can I please get a tiramisu with a side of champagne with an innocent reader and Lando Norris, please. 🙏

bakery menu

want to suggest your own order? read the menu! i love the idea of an innocent!reader, that's so cute. with a sugar daddy!lando!! i imagine him being so sweet but then being a little devil in the bedroom! i hope you love this <3

tiramisu ("my little slut to ruin") + champagne (sugar daddy au) served by lando norris (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, sugar daddy au, fluff, dom!lando, mean!lando (in the bedroom), doggy style, dirty talk (a little degrading), innocent!reader, big dick!lando

lando didn't like the word "sugar daddy", because that implied he was paying you for sex. in all honesty, he felt nervous the first time he had sex with you.

you were a virgin, and he was taking your virginity. not that he really put much stock in the concept of virginity, but he didn't want to ruin your first time. he remembered that he fingered you for what felt like hours because he didn't want to bruise you.

when he did that he said to you, "i know this is stupid to say. but, i'm sorry for having a big cock." he made sure that you were comfortable before he (gently) fucked you. he remembered anxiously waiting while you basked in the after glow of orgasm to get a rating of his performance.

(you gave it 10/10!, even if you were a little sore the next morning)

since then you had grown into knowing what you like and don't like. you were curious as you never had a partner prior and through trial, error and the usage of safe words. you both figured out what you both liked.

lando didn't like slapping you, unless it was on your ass. you didn't like having you hair pulled. you both liked lando ran his mouth, even when his words got more depraved. lando liked when you called him daddy and you liked when he wrapped both arms around you when he took you doggy style. and you both liked after care, regardless of how intense the situation got. you both found comfort in holding one another as you settled down.

so was it really paying for sex if you were both getting off to it and had an open conversation? probably not!

-

you two had come back from a day of shopping. when most thought about a sugar baby spending their daddy's money. it mostly meant expensive items like diamonds and gold.

but not you. when you were picking up a bulk pack of cotton panties and winced at the price (under 8€), while lando sent you back into the store to get a second pack.

"it's fine, my love." he said as he gave you cheek a little pinch, "they're cute. they have flowers on them." and then scanned the rest of your items when you were away. you were a terrible sugar baby in that regard.

he one time found you cutting out a coupon from the cereal box and when he asked you what was going on. you said, "save us 2 euros." as you cut up the cardboard.

lando found it endearing. you clearly knew how much he was making a year, he could afford spending the extra 2 euros on cereal. but, you wanted to earn your keep.

you put the reusable bag in the bedroom before you got out of your clothes for the day. which meant padding around in a baggy t-shirt and sleeping shorts. you had socks on that were pulled up to your calves, they were a little bit big on you which made you think they were landos.

but they were very comfy as you went back to the couch. you sat down and lando threw an arm around you. he had taken one of the popsicles you bought on your last shopping trip and when you sat beside him, he pointed it towards you..

you leaned over and put your mouth around it, you made a sweet noise at the coolness on your tongue. it was very erotic. you looked up at him and gave the icy treat another lick.

sometimes lando forgot how innocent you were. you didn't know what you were doing when you pulled away and giggled.

"that was really good." you said, "can i have some more?" before he could respond, you happily ate some more of it.

when you pulled away, you could see lando swallow. you asked, "is everything okay, lando?"

he leaned in and pressed a kiss on your lips. the kiss was a big hungry as he felt his cock stir in his pants. when he pulled away, "finish it."

you took it from him, but when you did. he snaked his hand down the front of your shorts and he invaded your space. you yelped a little but moaned when you felt his fingers grazed across your pussy.

you quickly ate the sweet treat before lando took the stick and tossed it over his shoulder before be pulled him into a tight kiss. his fingers continued to play with your pussy.

"you're my good girl, right? my little slut to ruin?" he asked to test the waters if you wanted to go forward with it. he could feel his erection in his loose shorts.

you looked very hot pressed against the leather couch. you nodded, "i'm always a good girl for you, daddy." when lando gave you room, you quickly made your way to the bedroom.

lando thought you were painfully innocent sometimes. the idea that he was teaching you how to make yourself feel good made pride surge in him. it was so cute watching your little behind as you made your way to the bedroom.

he practically tackled you to the bed and rubbed his aching clothed erection against your ass as he palmed your breasts through your shirt, his nose was in your hair.

"daddy!" you yelped.

"you're so good for me. i've taught you how to feel good." he groaned as he continued to rub up against you, "i still have so much to teach you, poor thing can't take all of my cock down her pretty throat. maybe i'll get you a nice pink collar when i train you."

you whined, your panties felt soaked by his closeness to you. his hefty words in your ears as you wiggled under him. you soon felt his hands go to the waistband on your shorts and yank them down.

he continued to rub his cock up against your panty clad ass, he needed his baby girl. it wasn't fair that there were still so many layers on you.

he gave you a little room and watched you undress as he did the same. he stood there, beautiful as ever with his hard cock on full display. once you were naked, he got back onto the bed as rubbed his cock up against your cute little hole.

"you're so pretty like this. on your hands and knees, shiny hole for me." he groaned as he guided his cock into your pussy, bottoming out into you. he held onto your hips and started to thrust.

it was true, you were painfully cute. the perfect baby girl for him, even if he couldn't have sex with you. being around you and your sweetness was more than enough for him.

once he got a steady pace, he then wrapped his arms around you middle as he moved against you. he pressed his cheek up against your back as he rutted against you. the slick sounds of sex paired with your noises filled the room.

lando whispered praises into your skin as he moved. his cock felt so good inside of you, his breathing was heavy as he kept his pace fast. he felt the roll of pleasure in his body and he groaned heavily against you.

his cock throbbed inside of you. your cunt felt like a dream. it made him hot all over. you were painfully cute, even when you were being split by his impressive size.

"please, daddy. that feels so good." you whined as you arched your back. you could feel the pull of him in your stomach. your brain felt mushy, fueled by pleasure as he moved against you.

lando groaned against your skin, "you're the perfect girl for me. i lucked out, fuck. you're so good for me. clipping coupons and letting me fuck your sweet pussy. i lucked out." he kissed your heated flesh.

"please daddy."

"don't worry. i'm not goin' anywhere. i'm not leaving behind something so perfect." he kissed then at your cheek and rested his chin on your shoulder as he fucked you heavily.

his words made you hot all over, he watched you claw at the covers as he continued to thrust into you. he could feel the sweat down his neck as he continued to move.

the pleasure swirled through him as he moved. it all felt so good, it made him painfully hard. your combined noises made him shudder, he knew he wasn't going to last long. and neither were you.

you quickly came with your head in the sheets, your back arched further. you felt your heartbeat in your ears as he continued to fuck you. it was a erotic sight, the two of you fucking in the comfort of your own home.

"my precious girl."

"mmm, daddy." you whined, basking in the post orgasmic feeling.

he clenched onto you and finished inside of you with a hard thrust. he'd make sure you weren't in pain by tomorrow. he slowed down his pace to a still before he kissed the back of your head and whispered that he loved you.

you laid flat on the bed and found comfort in the soft covers as you panted heavily. lando then curled you up in his arms. he spooned you from behind as he kissed at your neck. you were so painfully cute, even when blissed out from the intensity of sex. he kissed at the shell of your ear gently.

"how was that? did i hurt you?"

you held onto his forearms as he held you and replied, "no, no. everything is perfect." you pressed your back further up against you and smiled softly, "you spoil me."

he chuckled and gave you another kiss on the neck, "always. i'll always spoil my baby." he squeezed you a little tighter. that was a promise to you.

[ellecdc]

ive been thinking about stone-faced unamused independent reader and how james and barty would absolutely love to baby her and treat her like a princess and she has none of it..until shes feeling sort of down and like she needs their love and support so she gives in and theyre both so shocked and excited theyre like little dogs wagging their tails spinning around her

hiii....I'm back to apologizing to everyone who sent me in requests 2.5+ months ago for me to hoard them until inspiration struck! hope I did it justice hahaha

poly!darksun x black cat!reader and Sirius who just doesn't Get It

CW: fem!reader, reader is maybe a little mean but obviously James and Barty are into that shit, Sirius' POV so a very unreliable narrator

Sirius Black believed himself to be a pretty open-minded person.

He believed that love was love, he staunchly disagreed with blood status and had a lot of respect for muggle-borns, and believed in the fair treatment of beasts and other magical creatures in the Wizarding World.

But no matter how open-minded Sirius believed himself to be, he could not for the life of him figure out how in the hells James Potter and Barty Crouch Junior found their way to you.

Sirius admittedly had a hard enough time finding out that his best friend was dating his semi-estranged little brother’s maniacal (read: bat-shit crazy) best friend, but this? 

This made no sense to him. 

At least when it came to the likes of Barty Crouch Junior, James had found someone who could rival him in energy and enthusiasm. James could run for seven hours straight at a gods-honest sprint and Barty was just about crazy enough to try as well. Barty never denied his more intrusive thoughts and James was morbidly curious enough to watch those thoughts play out.

And both of them seemed to love hard; even if Sirius didn’t approve of that love, even if he didn’t like that love, he could admit that it, at the very least, made sense for him.

But where James was all golden retriever energy and Barty was some kind deranged, rabid mutt straight from the depths of hell, you….

Well, Sirius wasn’t sure exactly what you were. 

Where James was sweet and Barty was enthusiastic, you were utterly unimpressed. 

Where James was excitable and Barty was chaotic, you were completely apathetic.

And where James and Barty could be…slightly codependent, you seemed wholly disinterested in having either of them (or anyone for that matter) near you. 

“Sod off; I can carry my own damned books.” You had spat at Barty as he tried to take them from you. 

And Sirius had to stand there and watch both Barty and James stare after you with a lovesick look adorning their faces as you stalked away from them. 

“Well isn’t she just a ray of sunshine?” Sirius muttered derisively, earning him a threatening glare from Barty and a frustrated stare from James.

“You’re one to talk, Pads; I watched Remus actually growl at a first year who tried to take the last pumpkin pastie at dinner last night.” He grumbled before redirecting Barty away from Sirius’ jugular. 

And that seemed to be your response to pretty much anything those two did; you elbowed James in the stomach when he held the door open for you like a ‘poncy chauffeur’, you stomped on Barty’s foot when he offered you his elbow on the moving staircase, and you never seemed particularly pleased should they wind up in your vicinity.

Yet…

Yet you never made any effort to actually remove them from your vicinity, nor did you make any effort to leave theirs.

In fact, if Sirius wasn’t mistaken, he was sure he saw your shoulders relax ever so slightly when you realised the people pulling out the chair across from you in the library were James and Barty. 

They tensed right back up when Sirius and Peter accompanied them, but that's besides the point.

No, you didn’t converse with any  of them. Yes, you completely ignored any attempts at conversation from James or Barty - save taking the opportunity to correct them in their debate about their potions homework. And just once, Sirius was certain he’d heard you whisper a quiet thank you to Barty when he helped you find the page number for the answer to number 47 of your Herbology homework. 

It seemed to Sirius that no matter how staunchly you refused to allow either boy to fawn over you, you weren’t completely averse to their company. And though this amount of dedication didn’t exactly surprise Sirius coming from James, seeing as he spent four and half years of his school life pursuing a completely disinterested witch, he was confused that Barty hadn’t gotten bored yet.

It was all very peculiar, Sirius thought. 

Even more peculiar was when Barty and James had been snuggling in James’ bed as James quizzed Moony for the upcoming Alchemy test when there was a tentative knock on the dormitory door. 

Peter looked up from his Ancient Runes homework to look at Sirius, James and Barty lifted their heads to look at Sirius, and Remus turned in his desk chair to look at Sirius.

“What?” Sirius asked. “I didn’t knock.”

“You’re the only one not currently doing anything.” Remus countered.

Sirius paused in his throwing and catching of James’ pilfered snitch to look at him incredulously.

“I am too doing something.” He argued, holding the snitch between his thumb and forefinger and waving it at him. “Besides, Junior’s just laying there.”

“I’m a guest, Black. It’d be terribly improper for me to answer your dormitory door.”

“Answer the sodding door, Sirius.” Remus grumbled as he turned back towards James.

“A ray of sunshine.” James sing-songed for Sirius’ benefit, clearly still not over his passing comment of you from days ago. 

Sirius let out a dramatically petulant sigh as he stood to open the door.

Your face pinched when you saw who had answered, though Sirius had to hand it to you how quickly you corrected your expression.

Before you had a chance to tell Sirius why you were here, he looked back over his shoulder at James’ bed.

“See, I don’t think I should have to open the door for your bird!”

All that was heard was a painful sounding thump and James muttering “Barty, my glasses” before Barty materialised at the door. 

“Hi Treasure!” He greeted enthusiastically.

Sirius watched your eyes narrow as you seemingly debated whether or not to make a fuss over his nickname before ultimately deciding against it. 

“Angel!” James cheered as he, too, rounded the corner and shoved Sirius out of the way. “To what do we owe this pleasure?”

Sirius sat back down on his bed where he could see you consider your options carefully. 

Finally, after having the two sods stand there no doubt smothering you in smiles and soft eyes did you look shyly down at your shoes. “Can I…hang out with you guys for the afternoon?” You asked quietly.

Barty and James exchanged a - quite comical, in Sirius’ opinion - excited look before returning their gazes to you. “Of course!” They chorused; the volume startling you into lifting your head to look at them nervously. 

James cleared his throat and moved out of the door frame, ushering you in. “Of course you can.” He offered quieter this time, guiding you towards his bed as he looked over his shoulder and mouthed “oh my gods” at Barty who was eagerly following behind you. 

“What have you been up to today?” James asked then, clearly wondering what motivated this impromptu and voluntary visit but not wanting to chance whatever spell had been cast to get you here. 

You sat down on the edge of the bed, anxiously picking at your nail beds as each boy sat tentatively beside you. 

“I was studying in the library…” You offered, sounding horribly robotic and rehearsed in your response before you let out a shuddering sigh. Sirius watched as you visibly deflated and leaned slightly closer into Barty’s side. “I’ve had a bit of a headache all day.” You admit.

James and Barty both coo in unison as James cautiously rubs circles on your back; you let him.

“You have a headache?” Sirius deadpanned from across the room. “And you came here? To these two? Are they not the source?” 

“Get out.” Barty spat, braving himself as he tightened his arm around you; once again, you let him. 

“You can’t kick me out of my own dorm room, Junior!” Sirius argued. “Why don’t you go to your dorm room?”

“Oh, do you want to know what your baby brother and Rosier were up to before I left? Because I’ll happily scar you with that knowledge, Black.” Barty threatened. 

Sirius, who was not ashamed to admit he was perhaps more than slightly immature, simply covered his ears and started singing to drown out the sound of Barty’s voice.

“That’s it, everyone out.” James barked then; tone taking on an air of Gryffindor quidditch captain.

Remus scoffed indignantly at that as Peter - clearly the wisest of the bunch - simply began packing up his homework. “You promised to help me pass this test!”

“Oh for Salazar’s sake, Lupin; the answers are A, D, B, B, A, C, D, A, A, true, true, false, Nicholas Flammel.” Barty barked at him, causing Remus to blink owlishly at him. 

“Fine.” Remus finally said as he stood, shocking Sirius into silence at his quick acquiescence to such abhorrent demands. “Let’s go, Sirius.” 

Sirius, feeling awfully petulant, hurled the snitch towards James’ head who quickly and calmly caught it before offering it to you as Remus hauled him off the bed by his wrist and all but dragged him towards the door. 

“But it’s not fair, Moony!” Sirius pouted as he slammed on the breaks just outside the threshold of their dorm room.

“Sirius.” Remus started solemnly. “How many times did you try to convince me to snuggle with you at night before we started dating?”

“217.” Sirius answered readily, relishing in the soft smile Remus had clearly tried and failed at fighting off. 

“Right, 217 times you tried to convince me to snuggle with you; and how many of those times did I deny you?”

“216.”

“Right.” Remus agreed. “And what had James done to ensure that I would relent that one time?”

Sirius let out a pained sigh as he looked to the heavens. “He charmed his, Pete’s, and your bed to the ceiling so there was only one option.” 

“Right.” Remus agreed again, softer this time as he rested his hand at the juncture of Sirius’ neck and shoulder and rubbed his thumb along the column of his throat. “So don’t you think the least we could do right now is just let them have the room?” 

Sirius looked back into the room in time to see you smiling softly at something James was saying as Barty placed what appeared to be a wet cloth to the back of your neck; your eyes closing and face relaxing in relief, leaning back into Barty as James massaged your calves and carried on in his story. 

“What did I do to deserve this?” Sirius whined then, leaning his head into his boyfriend’s chest as he watched you curl up, not unlike a cat who had finally decided to sit on its person’s lap.

“Can you maybe try to remind yourself that James deserves this?” Remus whispered into Sirius’ hair.

“For Godric’s sake, Moony.” Sirius grumbled as he stood and began storming off in the direction of the common room. “Why d’you have to be so bloody reasonable all of the time!?”

[mehiwilldoitlater]

When you were taken by your original world and sent into some kind of ancient China, full of demons and monsters, you weren't exactly sure why you were supposed to assist the "Destined one." Damn, you didn't even know how this.

When you find out that this destiny one was some kind of successor of Sun Wukong, saying that you were surprised was a joke.

His eyes scrutinized you; they were dark with a tint of gold when the light stricked them. He silently circled you, creating some distance between you, himself, and the other monkeys, curious about the mortals that presented themselves on their mountain.

Every time you tried to keep some distance, he was ready to close it enough to never leave his sight. What a strange situation, and what strange creature was sent to him just at the dawn of his journey.

The stories portrayed Wukong, as the name says, as a monkey kind of guy: cheerful, ready to make some jokes, who liked to make fun of people and laugh. And yet, the destined one was nothing like this trope.

He was composed, serious, and always straight forward. It was like he decided to expel every fun side from him in order to fulfill his duty.

Despite that, he showed more side to you: he was caring, trying to understand your confusion and fear while in a new world, always remembering to keep your peace while walking to make sure that you didn't get lost around. He was your protector, always ready to strike at every danger, and a good friend in the moment of agony.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't cry for these things, but... I'm sorry, so sorry."

You missed home. You never could believe yourself, but you missed your monothone and unsavory life. You missed waking up, going to walk, listening to endless hours of your boss rumbling—you missed even the crappy food of the cafeteria!

Everything seems so far away, without hope of reaching it. And you felt like trash because he was the one that was there to listen. You felt ashame, ashame of the fact that you were there complaining about what you lost while he was there fighting for both of you. You tried to cover your eyes, holding your breath to calm down, but nothing worked at all.

A stream of tears keeps on crashing down, hiccups escaping your lungs without stop.

Then, you felt his arms—two pairs of strong and soft arms, protecting your now vulnerable state from everything and everyone. His tail followed his gesture, keeping you in place and warm—so warm.

"Please." His high peech voice is now reduced to a whisper. "Don't hold it. Don't hold the pain. I can't see you like this. Please, whatever cloud your heart, speak to me."

Soon, you both became inseparable. You followed him like a shadow, carrying pills and balms, making plans with him for your next move. Damn, even Bajie couldn't believe his eyes when he saw you behind the monkey, a little afraid of the newcomer of the group.

You weren't anymore just some random mortal the Destined one had found and kept at his tail; now you were the Destined done caompanion and trusted friend. His journey became your journey, and his task your task. You both became bound by a silent vow.

"Say...why don't you choose a name? A real one this time."

"I never thought about it." He started to play with a leaf fallen from the nearby tree, thinking about your new idea.

You reached his side, holding his hand in yours, caressing the black claws on it. Once those scared you, now you wonder if a nice manicure could make them look prettier than now.

"Well, you can't let me call you Destined One or Monkey forever! You need a proper name! Something nice! ...umm...how about... Yuánfèn?"

"Um? Since when can you name people here?"

"Well," you continued, "it's destiny in Chinese, no? Like..fate!"

He looked at you, then laughed between his teeth a little. "There's no difference in how they usually call me then!"

"Yes, but...this is how I call you! So is different!"

Soon, you start to not miss home that much. You start to hope to be closer to him—to not go back. You hope that, after your honeymoon, you can stay together and that, despite all, there can be a happy ending for both of you. And silently, in his head, he hoped that too.

"May i?"

He gave you his silent consent, allowing you to caress his cheek with your so small fingers. Your lips met his own, your gesture so timid and gentle that you ask yourself if it's still a small image in your mind instead of something that you're actually doing now. He hasn't moved an inch; confusion starts to come to him and yourself, to the point that you need to stop. Now you just feel ashamed; you felt that you crossed a line, and now you don't even know if you can even go back.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

A small shush from him, his finger holding your chin and guiding you against him. This time, he's trying to mimic your gesture, a blush forming from his face to the visible part of his ears. His kiss is trembling but fierce. He waited long enough to see your still puzzled face.

"I...may don't get how you did it...Can you show me...again, please?"

You don't need to let him ask again; soon your lips smash together again, showing him exactly what's happening.

Your fate is sealed with that kiss, and there's no force on heaven and earth to undo it.

@sun-jglim

[nikovraskol]

I'm curious of other members of batfamily reaction to reader's death? Like Cassandra, Stephanie and Barbara?

i was gonna add them to the first part but i lowkey don't have a good grasp on their characters, pls lmk how i can improve them im working on chapter 3 rn yall, it should be out soon so. >:)

if u saw alfreds part no u didnt i forgot he was dead LMAO

masterlist

cassandra isn't sure how she's supposed to deal with the heavy emotions in her chest. she can tell something is wrong the moment bruce walks in, his whole demeanour spelling tragedy. you've died? oh. a heavy feeling settles in her chest, she's mostly confused. the two of you weren't necessarily close, so why? why does she feel such sadness? such agony? she picks her brain, scowering for ever single memory of you -- your mannerisms she picked up out of habit, she'll find herself walking around your room, sitting in the kitchen every morning at the hour which you used to eat breakfast, she looks around every corner hoping to see the small child you were, peeking around with hopeful eyes. she doesn't like the way her heart clenches when she sees nothing but her own shadow.

stephanie is filled with tremendous guilt, she sits in your room, taking in every nook and cranny, every sign of your personality. she's not officially apart of the family, so she understands on a surface level -- the frustrations you felt. she's left with a memory of what could've been, her mind replaying each interaction with you, what she initially deemed as awkward was in fact just you crying out for help. she's supposed to help people, but when you held out a hand for her, she didn't take it, didn't help, how can she forgive herself? how can she move on?

barbara's been there from the start, she remembers when bruce took in a small child, a child who declined the future of vigilantism. she respected that, she's happy bruce has at least one normal child. but now, staring at your cold, dead body -- she's forced to acknowledge that she shouldn't have brushed you off, she should've understood that there is no such thing as a 'normal' child, you were a child, a child who lurked in the corners of the manor. she helps bruce to track down your killers, she slides jason some information about them. she wants vengeance for you, but how can she get it? your murderers can be thrown in a cell, but they're not the ones who made you suffer, not really.

duke is perplexed, the energy around the manor has completely depleted -- and as he stares at your body, he understands why. as the newest member of the family, he didn't understand you. in a family of greatness, there was you. but despite that, he spoke to you a few times, he remembers how you lit up when he complimented your homework, the way your demeanour shifted from gloomy to excited. why didn't he see the signs? he feels a crushing sorrow, but more than that, with your passing, he's able to see the cracks in the family -- he's able to see how your normalcy was the glue that stuck them together.

[endearng]

Firsts

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Summary: You and Spencer navigate through your firsts throughout your life as childhood friends.

WC: 6k

Warnings: death, grief, use of drugs to cope with grief, uhhhh i guess that's it

A/N: HELLO!!! It's been so so long and I'm sorry I took forever to update — uni's kicking my ass but now I'll try to write a bit more during holidays season. I hope you guys enjoy this one <3 Feedbacks are highly appreciated!

| masterlist

"Do you think we'll stay friends?"

"I'm sure we'll stay friends."

For a genius, your best friend, Spencer Reid, never seemed to notice some of his speech patterns — he would echo you sometimes, which you honestly found adorably funny, and he also had a tendency for rambling, even if it wasn't that appropriate at times. When you two were alone, you didn't mind; in fact, you encouraged him and let him talk to you all the way. When there was someone else, like either of your parents or a teacher (these were your regular companions), you would try to tap him on the arm subtly so he would know when to stop. Although it broke your heart, he said himself once that he appreciated when you helped him look more normal.

Right now, things are everything but normal. Spencer had graduated high school at the age of 12 while you were still in seventh grade and he was leaving to study at Caltech. You didn't dare to compare yourself to him, but you would definitely miss him around, since he was the first person you saw everyday (besides your parents, of course) and the one who walked you to school and then went on the way to his. Right now, you are sitting on the floor of your front porch, while Spencer is laying his head on your lap and you have your hands on his hair. You always said to him that he's got nice hair, no matter how he styled or decided to cut it. He blushed every single time.

"You know… I'm gonna miss you, Spencer."

"I'm gonna miss you. But you'll still be in my life."

"Will I?"

"I'm leaving, but I'll try my best to keep in touch. We can call each other. I'll spare a couple hours of my week so you can talk to me." A small grin stretched on his lips when he mentioned talking to you. A crease made its way between your brows when you thought you'd only talk to him weekly.

Trying to play it cool, you asked, just to be sure, just to check if the pang in your heart felt less intense, less hurtful. "Will you?"

"Yes, I will."

Despite having him in your lap, you couldn't see his eyes, for they were closed in delight from your gentle touch. You saw him smile softly and you could see just how relaxed he seemed with this big change — honestly, if you were him, you'd be terrified. Quickly trying to get rid of your sad and fearful thoughts, as you ran your hands through his hair, you poorly fought the urge to chuckle when you thought about braiding his hair. He felt the air that left your lungs hit his face when you did.

Curious, as he always had been, he inquired, "What is it?"

"You'd look good with braids."

"I'm not letting you braid my hair," even if his tone was one of mock offense, a chuckle made its way out of him.

"I didn't ask to."

You saw as he bit back a grin. Little did you know, but he's is heaven, here in your presence. In dire need of some place safe to just be, without the expectations and the big things that are expected from him and to happen to him. As you unknowingly soothed his thoughts with your gentle touch, he thought about how strange it is having someone touch him and not being utterly opposed to the idea. He also thought about how, for one time in his life, he didn't know something, which was the feeling spreading on his chest. Nevertheless, there was a ghost of a small, shy smile on his face as his shoulders relaxed.

He was happy.

—

As you made your way home from your sixteenth birthday dinner, something felt odd. Looking out the window, the city lights seemed to run from how fast your dad is driving. In the backseat, all alone, you tried to figure out what made you feel so empty all night long. As the car went over a bump, you instinctively looked to the side, and then everything made sense. Spencer wasn't there. Usually, after whatever family celebration you'd go to, he would be there (because you'd insist on taking him with you), by your side in the backseat of your dad's car, laughing at whatever funny thing had happened during the event. He was your company to every single thing you did, and you had been missing him quite more often as the contact between you two became more and more scarce.

Turning to look out the window again, your mom saw the frown on your face and sighed quietly, knowing precisely why you weren't chatting like you normally did. The specific pair of ears that you wanted to be listened by were not here. And she didn't blame you one bit.

As you got home, your frown was quickly replaced by a hopeful feeling on your chest and in your features when you found a voicemail addressed to you.

Hey! I hope you get home before midnight so that you won't think, not even for a minute, that I have forgotten about you. I'm so sorry I couldn't make it! I'm really stressed right now because there are too many things happening at the same time and I'm here all by myself, so... I guess you know, better than myself, how I feel. You… You know me so well. It is nice to be known by you. Anyway... Um... I'd like to wish you a happy birthday and, ah, I also would like you to know that I wish I could have been with you today. I'm really sorry because I know how much you love your birthdays. I'm sending you a gift, but I'm not sure if it will arrive on time. I miss you. I miss you and whatever Taylor Swift song you were always humming when we were walking back from school.

Anyway, er... I miss you—hah—I don't think I'll ever be able to tell you how much I miss you. And how much I miss our time together. Uh, happy birthday!

You didn't know when, but you had teared up at some point listening to him. You didn't know whether the cause was hearing his voice again or because he remembered you or because he told you he missed your time together or that he remembered the silly songs you'd sing when you were walking back home together. Before going to bed, you let your bedside table lamp on, as you always did before so Spencer knew, from the house beside yours, that you were up or you didn't care if he called you in the middle of the night. Either way...

You were happy.

—

Underneath the Christmas tree, the glow of the warm white fairy lights you and your mom had picked out was almost blinding. Yet, you and Spencer couldn't care less. You were both too infatuated by the blinding brightness that punished your eyes to care about having problems later. Closing your eyes, you smiled to yourself, happy to be doing something so ordinary, so dumb, with your best friend. Behind your eyelids, the light was not as relentless and it granted some relief from the current sight, which sort of looked like a kaleidoscope of... white. You heard when Spencer turned his head to look at you, but you missed his soft grin.

"It was overwhelming me," you explained.

"I know." He replied, still looking at you.

Your profile, under the yellowish glow, looked almost ethereal. The slope of your nose, the curve of your lips, everything was forever ingrained into his memory. By now, Spencer could map out every single freckle on your face — especially the particular one on your lower lip. He sighed at the sheer thought of your lips. You were now seventeen and so was Spencer. Puberty had been way gentler on you than it was on him and he noticed with a blush that you were growing up, just as he was. You were a little taller, for sure, and you had put on some weight in all the right places, not to mention your style that matched your personality. As for him, he had that voice pitch swing that he hated greatly, still wore thick glasses and overall went with the nerdy stereotype that everyone picked on him for… while you looked like you were glowing.

You opened your eyes and turned to look at him. You were so close that it almost hurt. Inches separated Spencer from what he thought would be the best feeling of his life. From the person that had him lying awake for hours, tossing and turning on his bed until the sun began to rise. "I can't wait to give you your gift. I think you'll love it!"

He grinned. "I'll be happy with anything." From you, he meant to say, but he didn't finish.

You closed your eyes again, a grin of your own on your face. He wondered... What if he got closer? What if he kissed you? What if you pulled away? What if you didn't pull away? What if you cut him off?

Almost unconsciously, he inched closer and closer to the point your breaths mingled together. You didn't pull away, not even for a second. Instead, you leaned in, getting ever closer to him than you ever had been before. The fairy lights made you look even prettier than before. You looked like a dream.

"I was thinking..."

"About what?" He asked. Despite his gaze being lost in you, he was acutely aware of the words coming out of your mouth.

God, your mouth.

"It's stupid..." You muttered, looking away from his eyes.

"You know you can talk to me." It's not stupid if it's you.

"Okay... okay." You breathed in. "Me and the girls were talking about first kisses. And I felt so, so embarrassed because I haven't had mine yet."

Spencer felt dizzy. Even if he wasn't the best at social cues, if he was reading this right, you wanted him to kiss you too. He exhaled softly, trying to clear his thoughts. His voice was weak when he asked, "And?"

"Have you had yours yet? I know we talk about everything and all that, but... have you?"

He chuckled at your question. How could he, the scrawny little nerdy boy have had his kiss and you hadn't? "You're joking right?"

"I'm not! I'm genuinely curious."

He didn't know, but your heart was in your throat, too scared of a positive answer.

"I haven't had my first kiss yet."

Somehow, that did nothing to calm your racing heart. Inching even closer, you muttered, "we could have it together."

If Spencer didn't pass out with your words, he was sure he would be unshakable for the rest of his life. Whatever life threw at him, it wouldn't matter as much as this moment of sheer strength and self-control, because he didn't pull you in immediately. "Are you sure?"

"I'd be fine with kissing you. You're my best friend. I—I know you won't judge me and you know I won't judge you either. And—and... even if things are... embarrassing... i—it will still be a good memory in the… future." As your soft voice reached his ears, he felt like he was in heaven.

Your arguments for kissing him made him wonder if you had spent that much time considering it as he did. "Okay, you've got a few points. I'm—I'm not... opposed to the idea."

Your heart burned. You both inched closer and closer, a hair width separating your lips. As your eyes fluttered closed and you placed one of your hands on the back of his neck, both hesitantly and surely, Spencer mimicked you and pressed his lips to yours with the lightest pressure as his hand found your waist tentatively. Your lips felt so soft and sweet. He knew he would feel you for days — and hoped you'd feel him for days, too.

Encouraged by him, you pressed your lips a bit harder against him. He gasped softly and you took the opportunity to capture his lower lip between yours and kiss it gently. Spencer could feel his heartbeat drumming on his ears and he tightened his hold on your waist the tiniest bit. Internally, he thought he died and went to heaven and that's how he was welcomed there. Your lips fit together so nicely and he felt his heart burning for you and he knew back then that he would do anything you asked him to in a heartbeat.

You pulled back to lick your lips and fitted them into his again. He sighed, again, moving to your accord as he tried focusing on how good it felt to be kissed by you rather than how you could regret it later. Distancing yourself, your eyes slowly fluttered open, finding his dazed ones already looking back at you. You grinned at him. Another secret between the two of you; but this time, it wasn't an embarrassing one.

He smiled back.

Later that day, Spencer sat on his bed, touching his lips, feeling the tingle yours had left behind. Smiling like an idiot, he wrote that date on the wood of his nightstand, black marker holding the evidence that tonight had actually happened, if he were to ever forget. If anyone asked, well, he would have to come up with something to hide the fact that he was relentlessly in love with you, but he would replay the best memory of his life in the back of his mind as his mouth stuttered out a little white lie.

He was so confused. And screwed. And so utterly happy.

—

At Caltech, at the ripe age of eighteen, on a working day, as usual, Spencer typed aggressively on his keyboard, writing an academic paper on a topic that had come to his mind during one of his classes and later inspired fully by a conversation with this one professor. Looking at the time on his computer screen, he cursed. It was already time he was supposed to be on his way to class, which was unlike him. There was a reason, though.

Last night, he had gotten home late. He had lost track of time talking to a girl whose name was Alex. They were both at the university library, and they hit it off immediately talking about Literature and then more mundane things — he had found out that she was a high schooler having classes with grad students, just like himself a few years back. Getting home late, his entire schedule for the day ahead had been ruined, so everything felt odd as he tried to navigate through his last obligations. He had gone to bed later than usual and overslept for some reason unknown to him.

As he got up abruptly, he knocked his knee on the desk, which was now getting very small for the size he had grown into. Shutting his eyes and suppressing a whine, he breathed in. As he opened his eyes, his line of sight caught glance of one of the two only photos he had hung up on his wall. The first was him and his mother, Diana. The second was you and him.

It was short after your fifteenth birthday, and he finally had had the time to go visit. You had greeted him with a very warm hug. That very same day, you had dragged him to your bedroom, which now didn't have the pink walls and the posters of the bands you liked so much anymore. Now, the walls were a cool tone of sage green and your walls were cleaner, the posters being replaced by photos of you and your friends from school. He had felt a tinge of jealousy, noticing just how much he was missing out on your life. Despite the lingering feeling, he tried to not let it get to him.

You thanked him so much for the gift he had given you, one of those polaroid cameras. He had spent so much time saving money to get you that present. The excited, happy tone in your voice during the phone call you had made to thank him made him feel like it had been worth it to spend that much.

"Hey, here she is! I named her Marie. From Marie Curie, of course." You explained, holding your camera carefully as you both entered your bedroom

"You named 'her' Marie?"

"She has a special place on my heart."

He chuckled. "You're so material, sometimes."

"You gave it to me!"

"I gave it to you." He whispered, a hint of a smile dancing around his features.

You smiled. "Come on, let's take a picture. It's her first. I waited a whole month so you'd be here to take this photo with me. It's only fair you're the first person to be photographed with me by Marie."

"Oh... okay..."

Holding the camera with both of your hands, you held it out so that it would capture the two of you. "Smile." You said, and, without checking his pose, you pressed the button, a big grin on your face, for the photo, of course, but also from being so madly happy that you were with him again. Spencer didn't know what do to, frozen on the spot because you were so, so close. He just looked at you, dumbstruck gaze on him as he watched you smile so beautifully at the camera.

His heart was doing somersaults.

After the flash in your face, you blinked rapidly, chuckling to yourself. "Oooh. That's uncomfortable, heh." You open your eyes and the first thing you see are his beautiful hazel ones, looking straight at you, as if he didn't even blink upon the bothering aftermath of the light on your faces. You nearly had to gulp under the intensity of his gaze. Then, you quickly regained consciousness and started fanning the small piece so that the picture would appear faster.

The result was the one now stuck to his wall: you, with the biggest smile on your face and he, lovestruck, dumb, lost gaze as he looked at you.

Sigh.

Spencer quickly shook his head, not meaning to be later and even more stressed than he already was. He missed you, though. And he let himself relish in that feeling of longing for a minute. Glancing at the photo, he couldn't help but think you were already eighteen. And that he had loved you from the first time he saw you — when he was twelve.

He sat on his bed, having removed the photo from the wall. As he held it delicately between his fingers, he thought of you. He always did. In spite of being late, in spite of everything telling him he had to go through his days, he felt something tugging at his heartstrings, a longing feeling that he should be somewhere else, something that told him something, so he knew.

It was time to go.

—

Back in his hometown, even the air felt different, despite exuding an aroma that reminded him of his younger days. It had been some time since he had visited, and the distance between you and him only grew further. Driving past your house — the state of California had finally issued his license —, he saw a somewhat big crowd of people, all dressed in black.

He felt like the noise around him didn't fully reach his brain. Like he was under water.

Robotically stepping out of his car, he approached the house cautiously. Almost as instantly as your mom welcomed him, he saw you across the room, dressed in black. Bloodshot eyes found him instantly, and a flicker of relief passed your expression — unable to muster up a smile, but oh so willing to show him that you were grateful for his presence. You felt frozen to the spot and had been standing in that corner for hours. A man placed his hand on your shoulder and that's when you looked away from Spencer. He noticed it, of course, and was obliged to acknowledge the blonde man by your side. You didn't smile at him either.

Spencer approached, somewhat relieved that you were okay, but so confused and overwhelmed by the entire situation. Almost unwilling to believe whatever bad thing had happened, because he had been so happy with you in that house.

Once he was within your earshot, you greeted weakly, "Hi."

"Hi."

Silence.

"Can we talk?"

Something about the look in your eyes told him that you desperately wanted, no, needed, craved it from him, his presence. With a subtle nod, you excused yourself from the man and lead him to the backyard. Sitting on the same bench you did when it was too late and you talked about the stars together, you reveal softly as you stare into the distance, "Dad's gone."

Spencer felt like he had been punched and all the air had left his lungs after your confirmation of something he was suspecting already. Finally, he blurted out, sitting down by yourself, "W—what?"

"He didn't wake up."

"He didn't wake up?"

"No... Last night, Spencer..." You begun, your voice thick with emotion, "he said that everything was alright." You frowned, tears streaming down your face, "That he... loves... loved me and mom... and that... that had been his role on Earth."

He stood quiet, waiting for the rest of what you had to say, still shaken by the news. Your broken voice and distant gaze were enough to skyrocket the pain he felt. Spencer absolutely adored your dad, and he was one of the few that Spencer confided in wholeheartedly when things got too rough for him to bear by himself. Even though your dad was the quiet type, Spencer would go as far as saying that he was somehow his dad as well.

With your silence, he had a little time to see past the pain. Analyzing your figure, he knew. He knew you had to leave. If you decided to stay, you'd be rooted to the spot and you wouldn't be able to grow any further, forever stuck into the never ending, relentless force of grief. Spencer knew that because, besides knowing you better than anyone else, he had left in hopes to escape the person he thought he was doomed to become. Your voice brought him out of his reverie. "I laughed. I thought he was joking."

"Maybe he was joking."

"Maybe he knew he was leaving."

Silence.

You look up at him. Asking for answers. For something. For comfort.

Sitting down beside you, he held your shaking shoulders as you let tears fall freely and you lost your breath and you choked on your own saliva. An ugly, guttural, desolate crying. Spencer held you through it all — he was ready to scream at anyone on the garden if they had the nerve to go there, but, actually, in that moment, you didn't care that somebody could see or hear you. The effect of the pills your mother had given you had started to wear off and you felt things way more intensely than when she first broke the news.

Dad's gone, was all that you could hear her voice say as Spencer turned his body to fully embrace you, placing your head on his shoulder and sobbing your pain as an effort to quell the ache of your loss.

It took every single ounce of self-control for Spencer not to break down with you, because in that moment, he preferred to swallow his own pain so that he could be your safe space instead. As your sobs slowly subsided, you sighed, squeezing your eyes shut as if that would make the pain that invaded your whole body go away.

"I think..." you started, but never finished.

Silence.

"I think you should move away."

You looked at him, baffled, puzzled, hopeful.

"What?" You whispered softly.

"I think staying won't do you any good. And you know I'm right." His gaze never faltered.

You took a deep breath. "M-my mom... Spencer... she doesn't have anyone else. I-I can't do that... to her..." You gulped. The meer thought of leaving felt exhilarating, but you had to stay. You were rooted.

"Your brothers are always around." He replied.

"Not anymore. Much has changed since… since you... left."

"I didn't leave." He said, defensively.

"I didn't accuse you. At least I didn't mean to. I'm sorry."

He pressed his lips into a thin line. "Would you consider it? Leaving, I mean?" Please, say yes. Please, say yes. Come with me.

"I would... I don't know, Spencer." Your voice was broken. "Too... too much is going on. I can't just... go."

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"There's dad. And now mom. And that stupid college... I don't know where I fit." You fit next to me, he wanted to scream at you, but he realized it wasn't fair of him to demand anything from you at that moment. "I don't know what path to take without my dad here to guide me." A wet chuckle made its way out of you. He hugged you again.

On a sudden wave of boldness, he stated, "If you stay, this will be your life. If you go, you'll have somewhere to come back to if things go wrong. I—I… I know, um, that I sound very insensitive right now, but that's the truth. Why do you think I went away?"

"I can't." And your tears began again, even harder this time.

He sighed, holding you against his chest once again. Despite the unbearable pain of not being able to help, to persuade you, he decided to respect your decision.

“My father's in a casket. I have got no plans.” You muttered softly. His heart broke for you all over again.

“You've got me. And I've got you.”

Looking up at him, your eyes glimmered with hope. Desperate to believe him, desperate to leave. With him, if he'd have you.

But that wasn't how it worked.

You buried your face on his chest again, willing the tears to stop, to have some control over yourself again.

He held you through it all. He was there for you.

Spencer's stay didn't last long, even though it was filled with an unspoken, desperate beg for you to come with him, even if he didn't quite know how things would work once you accepted. After some thinking, he realized he was asking too much of you for the sake of trying to protect you from what he knew was going to happen. Losing his own father, albeit for a different reason, had changed him permanently and he was scared that you, losing yours, would turn into a different person too. The mere thought of losing you to grief was too much to handle, even if he understood that his pleas were unfair to you, not to mention absurd.

Spencer's brain was turned into a whirlwind of thoughts, all of them desperate to find a way out of this situation, to find a way out to get you out of that place — both physically and mentally. As he stood by your side during your dad's burial, he let you squeeze his hand as if that would somehow make the pain less intense for you. It didn't, but it felt nice to have someone to carry the weight with you.

—

Spencer had joined the FBI at the age of 23, when you were graduating from college. The difference was staggering and it made you laugh the same as it had when he was going to college and you were going to seventh grade. It had been years since you had last met in person, after all, Diana was the main reason he'd go to Vegas, and he didn't go there much because he was often too busy with his studies and his career. Once, he had confided in you, saying that he secretly wished that it would be enough of a good excuse to avoid seeing his mother in a facility and saving them both from the pain. Tonight, though, that would change. You were visiting him in Virginia.

A little nervous, you knocked on his door. Once he answered, you took in his appearance and your heart swelled at the sight. In your eyes, he'd always looked the prettiest, but now… It's like something had shifted: Spencer was all that you saw. And you didn't want to look at anything else anymore.

“Hi,” you greeted in a weak voice. Perhaps the intensity of your smile stole away your will to speak properly.

“You're here.” Spencer muttered, eyes filled with many emotions, but that you decided to read as relief.

“I am.”

“God, it's been so long,” he says, closing the gap between you and him, wrapping his arms around your torso, resting his head on your shoulder, not so subtly trying to smell your perfume. And failing to hide the overdrive when he noticed it was the same from all those years ago, from when you had first kissed.

Pulling away slightly, you cupped his cheeks with both hands and took in his shiny eyes, the ones that you adored so much and now met yours with a new perspective on everything. Once entering his apartment, you found that the place screamed his name, from the scattered books and the endless piles all over his living room. His TV had a documentary in a foreign language on, and you smiled to yourself. Spencer had never changed and, at his core, was still the boy you were once close friends with.

Spencer filled you in on the things you missed. You knew they were mostly about his job because he wasn't one to step out of his comfort zone — not that you'd judge him for it. “I miss having you around, tapping my arm so I know when to stop,” he revealed softly as you two shared a tub of ice cream.

Forget germs, forget pathogens, forget viruses, forget everything. She is here.

You giggled. It set his heart on fire. “Ah, Spencer… You know I only did it when other people were around. Other people are just other people. You're you. And rambling is part of who you are. Don't let that disappear.”

He smiled. You were still you.

“In fact, I have something to tell you.”

His heartbeat fastened, thinking of every possible scenario, reliving every single one of your experiences in the back of his mind. “You… you have something to tell me?” He echoed. He was still him.

Chuckling softly, “I'm glad you're still you, Spencer. I still say your name when people ask me who's my best friend. It's an excuse to relive our favorite stories as I tell them all about you.”

Spencer was left speechless, bashfully looking away from you as he resumed to talk about his days at the FBI. He told you all about his team, the people and what they found on a daily basis. “Do you think it's weird that I study what I do study?”

“No, Spence. You've always had a curious mind. Why do you ask?” You inquired back.

“I don't know… sometimes I think that people find me weird.”

“You're not,” you said, simply. “Your interests are very diverse, and anyone who talks to you will find that out. Being a profiler is not weird.”

He grinned. Your words or arguments about his insecurities throughout your friendship weren't always the most complex, but he always felt better by talking to you. He was never ashamed, never too scared of admitting something or voicing his needs. You made him feel like it was okay to speak, to want, to be. Whatever his limitations were and whatever words he left unspoken, they were never your fault. You'd never frowned at him, not once.

As the night progressed, he filled you in on what he had been doing for fun, mentioning his current readings — one of them on his nightstand. Giddily, you went over to his bedroom to find the novel that he was talking about, so that you could hear him talk about it and recite, by heart, quotes that illustrated his points and interpretation from the book. Upon entering his bedroom, you smiled to yourself. So Spencer. The sand-colored walls, the neat and clean floor, his slightly wrinkled bedsheets, a pile of laundry on top of his bed, a few scattered items on his nightstand — which, by the way, was the same in his mother's house. You had always found it amazingly pretty, the light wood and the black paint that covered the iron of the drawer pulls.

As you reached the piece of furniture and removed the book, you found something scribbled right under where the object had been lying. You were ready to give him a piece of your mind and you opened your mouth, ready to tell him not to ruin the perfect nightstand, but as you turned on the lamp to try and find out what was written there, the writing in black ink made you shiver. You fell silent. It was the date of your first kiss.

Time stopped. Why was that date written there? And why did the possibilities both scared and thrilled you so damn much? You felt someone behind you. “So, you found the book or what?” The question made its way out of his lips in a teasing tone. But, as you turned around softly, the book still clutched tightly in your hands, your eyes questioned him back. Not accusingly, only… curiously.

When he realized what you had discovered, the air left his lungs and he tried desperately to come up with an excuse. It turns out that he hadn't been asked by many people about the meaning of that date — and it's not like he had many visitors, anyway. “I… You… You… Did you… see it?” You managed to nod, weakly.

“What does it mean?” You asked, eyes never leaving his.

Looking away, he replied, “I was scared to forget.”

“Forget?” You inquired, shifting your weight.

“About it…. That night, I mean. about… us.” You gazed at him understandingly once he answered.

“About us?” Funnily enough, now you were the one parroting him. It would have made you chuckle if the situation wasn't that serious.

He breathes out, “Yeah, us.”

A beat of silence. You take a step towards him, and his breath hitches. “Have you forgotten?”

He searches your face. Upon finding nothing but support, he reveals, “There's not a single day I don't remember that moment.” You gulp and he takes a step closer, which makes your grip on the book tighten even more. You closed your eyes — a silent invitation, but it makes him falter once he doesn't have your eyes to navigate him through what he's supposed to do.

I'm glad you're still you, Spencer.

Encouraged by the memory of your words from moments ago and the presence of you, he closes the distance between you, once and for all. There's nothing that could hold him back from loving you once your lips touch and press together in a kiss that makes the book fall to your feet as your hands find their place on the back of his neck.

On any other day, Spencer Reid would be pissed upon seeing someone drop a book, let alone a considerably heavy one, on his feet — that's absurd. That moment, though, he couldn't care less as he squeezed your waist, as if trying to convince himself that you were there, that it was real, and that he finally got to do what he has always wanted.

Spencer and you had been through many firsts during the time you've known each other; some good firsts and some pretty bad firsts. But, there was a quote, from ‘Doctor Who’, that you always reminded him and yourself whenever things got too tough:

"The way I see it, every life is a pile of good things and bad things. The good things don’t always soften the bad things, but vice versa, the bad things don’t always spoil the good things and make them unimportant."

As long as he had you to soften the bad things and had your company during the bad things that made the good ones unimportant, Spencer figured that life would be a pile of more good than bad things.

[mrsshabana]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞

꒦꒷‧₊ Content Mr. Crawling x gender!neutral!reader, fluff ꒦꒷‧₊ Note 800 words. I wrote this just now, I wasn't planning on writing for him so soon but I couldn't help myself. I hope those of you that know of him enjoy it. ♡

It all started at those stupid abandoned apartments. Your friends dared you to go in, and for some reason you did it. Sure it was spooky inside but there really wasn't any threat. Only when you got lost and wandered around the building for hours, trying to find an exit. 

While you were in the building you felt like someone was watching you. Occasionally spotting a shadow moving out of the corner of your eye, or hearing the sound of something shuffling on the floor. 

However, even after you left the building, you still felt like someone was watching you—every second of every day. This feeling was stronger while you were at home, but it would linger out in public, too. 

It was strongest though when you were trying to go to sleep. In your bedroom, with the lights off, and no sound but the night outside your window. You tried to ignore it, not let it get to you, but you'd be lying if you said it hadn't kept you awake most nights. Only falling asleep when your fatigue was too much to ignore. 

And tonight was no different. You lay in your bed desperately trying to get some rest but the feeling of someone else in your room keeps you awake. 

“You okay?” a strange voice calls to you from the darkness. You have no idea what it said but you're certain you couldn't have imagined the sound. 

You shoot up from your bed to see where the sound came from, but you don't see anyone. 

“H-Hello?” you mutter in a shaky voice.

Suddenly a head pops up from beside your bed, “Hello!” A high-pitched giggle emits from the creature's mouth, a sound that doesn't match its appearance. 

The head rises, and it grips the side of your bed with cold-looking hands. Pulling itself onto the bed with its arms instead of standing up and climbing on normally. 

You scream at the sight, instinctively backing away.

The creature frowns, “You scared?” it says as it retreats slightly, “Me sorry.” It has an apologetic tone in its voice, but it's speaking some kind of language you're unable to understand.

It doesn't come closer, staying at a distance so as to not startle you further. As the panic slowly subsides, you take a closer look at the creature. 

It looks like a man, but his hair is extremely long. Stark black and has a silky straight texture - hanging in front of his face and covering his eyes. Though you can see blood on his skin where it looks like his eyes should be. His skin is pale grey, and void of any warmth. And his clothes, though hard to see since he hasn't stood yet, appear to be a tattered black Yukata perhaps? 

He stares back at you with a wide grin. It's that smile that makes him look creepy and inhuman. Though not entirely unfriendly. 

“Wh-who are you?” you whimper, “What do you want?”

He tilts his head to the side like a curious puppy. It seems like he doesn't understand what you're saying. 

“Me not hurt you,” he smiles, reaching out his hand to pat your head. 

You flinch at his touch, not sure what he just said or what his intentions are. Though he doesn't seem malicious. He may look scary but he hasn't shown any hostility when he's certainly had the opportunity to. 

“Um,” you try to think of what to say to him, “Are you the one that's been watching me?”

“...?” he tilts his head again.

“N-Never mind,” you smile awkwardly, “Erm, I'm going to go to sleep, ok? You can sleep on the couch if you want to stay…”

You put your hands together and make a sleeping motion on your pillow, trying to tell him you want to sleep. 

“Rest?” he looks at the pillow then back to you, “Alright. We rest!”

With a smile he lays his head on the pillow next to yours, looking at you expectantly. 

“N-No! I mean - you can sleep on the couch, not in my bed!” 

He just smiles, your words going in one ear and out the other. 

“Ok, fine,” you sigh and lay down beside him, “You can sleep here I guess…”

You try to sleep, but you can feel him staring at you. And when you open your eyes to see that wide smile of his, it doesn't help. So you turn around, facing your back to him. “G-Goodnight,” you mutter. 

“You rest bed… Me rest bed,” he mumbles, “Me grateful.”

You don't know what he just said, but for some reason, you feel safer with him by your side. Who or what he is is still a mystery. For all you know, this could just be another dream.

But a part of you really hopes that it isn't…

[cuteandhughesy]

I’ll Be Home For Christmas | Nico Hischier

summary: nico hischier acting as your fake boyfriend to try and get your family off your back this holiday season seems like the perfect solution - or so you thought.

14.9k

warnings: SFW! fake dating | friends to lovers | suggestive themes and dialogue | kissing | jealousy | angst | fluff | mentions of anxiety |

a/n: based off this request! is this a plot i’ve seen before? absolutely! do i eat it up every time? ABSOLUTELY! hope you guys enjoy my third fic of my christmas special—I cant believe it’s almost christmas 🎄 this was originally supposed to go up on Christmas eve, but i finished it early 😘

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"I think the only way to solve this is if I jump off the highest mountain in jersey."

bree pauses her stirring hand, glancing at you sternly over her shoulder. "don't jump off anything, y/n/n."

you let out another unsatisfied grunt, a disgruntled noise that has come out your mouth many times since you arrived at your best friend's apartment - and you've only been here an hour.

the sound of the wooden spoon scraping along the metal soup pot starts up again, bree continuing to mix her homemade chicken vegetable soup she coerced you over with.

you watch the blonde with a pout on your slightly chapped lips - but it matches the rest of your appearance, so you're not even bothered that they are dry. resting your chin in the palm of your hand, you can't help but zone out and drown in your own dreadful bubble.

you've been feeling overwhelmed and stressed since last night. it started as you'd just finished eating your sad excuse of a frozen meal dinner, beginning to queue up the next episode of stranger things - when your evening was interrupted with your mom’s call.

"mom? is anything okay?" you answer quickly, brows pulled together in a curious manner.

you can hear her gentle laughter through the grainy line. "don't sound so scared to speak to me, honey. everything is fine."

you sigh. "just wasn't expecting a late night call is all....what's up?"

"well," she singsongs, and you can practically hear her wide smile through the phone. "you remember my friend susan, right? from work?" you hum once, so your mom continues. "well she has a son named scott, and he's around your age."

"why are you telling me this?"

she tuts her tongue like it should be obvious. "they are staying at same same skii cabin resort as us this christmas! and you're still single so I want you to meet each other - get to know one another."

that has you sitting up in a hurry, she's blown wide as you take in your moms words. "mom, no i'm not going to entertain this."

"why not? he's nice and cute-" your moms familiar voice fades into the background, as you can't focus on anything but the swirl of panicked thoughts in your head.

you've been single for three years - three years since your last boyfriend cheated on you with his macdonald's co-worker. honestly his first red flag should've been working at macdonald's at his big age of 28 - you should've broke up with him right then and there.

since then, your mom has been wanting you to get back out there, and 'give her grand babies' - you try to not shutter just thinking about it. she's been trying to get you to meet a million different young men, changing between her friends kids and even random baristas she meets at her local starbucks. and honestly you're just tired of it.

you won't find the love of your life through your mom - and it seems that only you can see the logic behind that.

you'd been looking forward to the few days away from the city for christmas, especially with your boss really coming down on you about upcoming new year business proposals that were honestly out of your job description. now your extended weekend that was supposed to relaxing and festive was tainted by your mom and this mysterious scott dude.

you come back to, your mom still lengthly explaining the christmas plans and scott and everything else in between. you huff anxiously, and before your brain can stop the word vomit that is festering on your tongue, you interrupt her.

"i'm bringing someone to christmas."

the blabbering in your ear comes to a quick stop, your mom going completely silent on the line.  "who?"

you swallow, "my boyfriend."

the conversation went on for a bit longer, and you had blabbed about your fake boyfriend without giving away any type of physical details- heck you even avoided giving him a name. when your mom had asked, you told her that you didn't want to give anything away - the element of surprise much more enjoyable.

you cringe thinking back on it, closing your eyes tightly. you are so screwed.

the front door opens quickly, alerting you and bree to her boyfriends arrival. it's only a few seconds following the thud of his hockey bag hitting the hardwood floor that dougie saunters into the kitchen, hair still damp from his post-practice shower.

he looks up from his phone, finding you sitting with a frown at his kitchen island. "what's up with you?"

this time it's bree who groans out. she takes the spoon out of the soup and sets in on the countertop, spinning on her heels to look at you and her boyfriend properly—without straining her neck. "don't get her started."

you squawk. "bree! you're supposed to be consoling me."

she pouts at you, "I know - i'm sorry." bree swiftly moves towards you, wrapping her small arms over your shoulders sweetly. she smells like broth and caramel perfume, which is an oddly comforting scent. "I just don't like seeing you so stressed."

dougie peeks in the soup pot, humming softly at the sight of the various vegetables swimming among perfectly shredded meat. he turns back to you both, leaning back against the counter as he stares you down. "so are you going to tell me? or do I have to wait for you to leave, which inevitably will have bree spilling her guts."

"dougie!" your best friend screeches, eyeing her boyfriend wildly.

you all but whine, letting your eyes fall closed in pure embarrassment. "I'm screwed." you manage to mumble, one eye peeking open to look over at dougie.

he looks rather amused at your dramatics, and you kind of want to get swallowed up and never be let go. "why?"

you take a deep breath. "because....because I told my mom that I had a boyfriend and was bringing him to christmas."

dougie snorts and bree sends him a warning glare. immediately he stops, playing off the laugh with a small cough. "you don't have a boyfriend."

you eye him irritatedly. "you think I don't know that?" bree, like the most amazing and supportive friend she is, begins gently rubbing your shoulder, grounding you. you take another shaky breath, your earlier pout returning. "I just...my mom was all pushy and wanted me to meet her co-workers son and I just panicked."

bree gently pipes up. "you didn't give him a name or talk about his appearance, y/n/n - it gives you some freedom in trying to find someone. maybe you should re-download hinge and make it known in your bio that you're needing a christmas date."

you pull a face, the thought of scrolling through medacore men who don't meet your ethical standards and are most likely teetering on borderline homophobic doesn't sound appealing - like, at all. "i'm going to pretend I can't go - i'll just tell my mom something came up."

"hold on," dougie steps forward, resting his palms on the island. he looks between you and bree, his brows pulled together as he gathers his thoughts. "you didn't give your mom a name?"

you hum. "or any physical attributes."

a ghost of a smile tugs at his lips, and he looks rather pleased with what we thought he's conjured up in his mind. "hear me out here...what If you take nico?"

you blink once. and then you blink again.

behind you, bree gasps. "that's a good idea!"

you shake your head, clearly confused. "he's not going home for christmas?"

dougie shakes his head. "no, the schedule didn't work in his favour, and his parents can't come out for a four day break. he was telling me today he was just going to be alone at his apartment....but maybe he could go with you."

it's....its actually not a bad idea. you like nico, he's always been so kind and sweet anytime you two have been together - which, granted, was quite often. surprisingly enough, nico and dougie were really good friends, and anytime you, bree and him wanted to go out, dougie would have nico join along. it's been like that for a few years, and the dynamic between you and nico was easy.

but...."no, I can't put him through that. you know how my mom is, and she's going to be all over him! and my sister and her husband, and god I can't have my niece getting attached....I just can't."

"you can." dougie hums, pulling out his phone from his sweatpant pocket. "you're just making excuses - nico won't care if your family asks questions. he's a team player who will easily help you with all your problems." he's busy swiping on his phone, barley glancing at you as he talks. "plus, it's not like he'll be out of your life after this - I already know he will be your fake boyfriend as long as you need him to be."

"dougie, no." you sigh.

"yes."

"no."

"too late," dougie hums, "i'm face timing him right now."

you left watching in horror, dougie coming around to your and bree's side of the kitchen island. you squawk, "absolutely no - dougie don't." 

he's setting his phone up against the vase of flowers in the middle of the counter, displaying all three of you on the ringing face time screen. dougie looks at you, and grimaces. "try and look pretty. you look like a mess - c'mon."

bree smacks his arm. "dougie!"

you're not even going to disagree with him, because you do look like a mess. your hair is slicked back with your own oil - too lazy to get into the shower before coming over. your face is bare and you're in the middle of your period, with lingering hormonal pimples littering along your chin and jawbone. all that combined with your anxious eye bags, dry skin and ice cream stained pyjama shirt - well let's just say you've looked better.

your eyes widen as the sound of the call changes, indicating that nico is picking up the phone. "seriously I don't - heyyy nico." your hushed and panicked whisper towards your best friend's boyfriend quickly changes as nico hischier’s face takes over dougie’s phone screen.

"....hey?" he looks confused, and rightfully so. you're sure the last thing he expected with a call from his assistant captain was to be met with not only him, but his sheepish looking girlfriend and her hot mess best friend as well. his eyes move between the three of you, brows pulled tightly. "you guys okay?"

his accent sounds thicker through the phone, voice deeper....it's kind of comforting and as soon as your brain registers that calm feeling, it lets you spew. you begin telling nico all about your situation, but it seems that dougie and bree has the same idea, and all nico can hear is a jumbled sentence.

"y/n needs your help." dougie says, the words barley reaching nico's ears over bree's - "and she's just really stressed." that combined with your pouty lips as you tell him, "and his name is scott - like what kind of name is scott?"

you all come to a stop, eyeing nico through the phone screen. he adjusts the angle of his phone, giving you a glimpse of his location, which seems to be on his couch. "you're going to have to say that again, y/n. couldn't hear you over dougie's loud mouth."

so you tell nico everything - just you this time - starting with getting the phone call, your mom trying to set you up, your fake boyfriend lie and dougie's reason for the facetime. the entire time nico listens, not even interrupting you once as he digests the spoonfuls of information.

you sigh gently, "and dougie shouldn't of called you, nico. I really don't want to ruin your christmas by dragging you into my mess and-"

"i'll help you out." this time, nico does interrupt you, his soothing voice agreeing to the whole fake boyfriend story you'd thrown at him, cutting off the end of your lengthy ramble.

"really? why?"

he shrugs through the screen, a gentle smile beginning to pull on his face. "i'm not doing anything else. you're my friend, y/n, I want to help you out."

the relief that floods through you is ethereal, and you can already feel some of the stress leave your body. "nico, thank you...thank you, oh my god, okay I'll text you the details."

he grins. "looking forward to it."

the phone call ends just as the soup starts to bubble loudly on the stove, which has bree cursing, skipping back towards her food and turning down the burner. as she returns to stirring the mixture, she shrieks happily, glancing back at you. "no hinge needed!"

"you're welcome." dougie chimes playfully, pocketing his phone before he moves to grab three bowls from the cupboard, ready to serve some of bree’s delicious chicken vegetable soup.

although you're feeling stress free about the actual boyfriend part of finding a fake boyfriend— thanks to the devils captain— there is still the matter of having to prep nico for your family, as well as playing pretend with one another in hopes of convincing your family that you and nico are in love.

....and the stress is back, prickling under your skin in a way that has you jittery. you can only just pray nico doesn't get overwhelmed and ditch you on the side of the road on the way up to the lodge, leaving you to fend for yourself while he speeds back to the city.

bree slides the hot bowl full of soup in your direction, plopping the gold spoon into the liquid before she leaves. you thank her gently, and as you dig in into the meaty broth, you begin to create somewhat of a plan for you and your fake boyfriend.

DAY 1

you text nico after leaving bree and dougie's apartment once you had settled back at your place, assuming your usual lounging position on the living room couch. you send him the main details of your family christmas getaway like the name of the resort and it's location, as well as when you'll be leaving and how long you'll be staying.

thankfully, the devils schedule almost perfectly aligned with your families getaway, meaning that nico would be able to spend the entire holiday season with you and your family—he just has to leave early on the 25th for the boxing day game—which you can't yet decide if you're relieved about or stressed about.

regardless, three days after your impromptu facetime call on dougie's phone, you and nico are packed up in his car, backseat full luggage and various wrapped presents— all ready to head up to the ski lodge.

it’s been 5 minutes since nico pulled out of your driveway, and you still haven't said anything other than your initial greeting. the pressure of the day ahead is knawing away at you, turning your stomach into a wave pool of nerves.

the christmas music flows quietly through the speakers, providing a comforting hum in the background. nico keeps switching his gaze from the road to the side of your face, analyzing your anxious eyes as you zone out, nibbling the skin around your thumb nail.

he sighs gently and with a free hand turns the already quiet music completely off. the lack of the original taylor swift christmas song in your ears snaps you out of your daydreaming, looking over at nico with a tight pull to your eyebrows.

"why does your face look like that?"

you frown, "like what?"

"like you've just shoved your nose full of expired smelling salts," nico smirks at his own joke, glancing over at you once again. "seriously what's going on that head?"

you take a deep breath, your mouth opening and closing like a tiny fish—unsure what you want to admit. you don't want to seem ungrateful for nico‘s help by complaining, and you don't want to look stupid and embarrass yourself for being so nervous about spending christmas with your family. after a moment, you let out a quiet sigh, glancing over at nico.

his flickering gaze is soft—comforting—and it has you faltering, head falling back against the head rest with a thud. "I can't lie." nico huffs a laugh, and you almost scoff at the sound. "i'm serious - I can't lie."

"technically, you're not lying."

you eyes widen comically, looking over at him wildly. "what part of this trip isn't based on a lie."

he sighs gently, fingers flicking on the cars turn signal as he approaches the highway lane. nico has always been so nonchalant in your presence, the complete opposite of you at any give moment, and honestly you're envious of that. he glances at you quickly, pulling onto the highway. "I mean, it's not like we are strangers—we're friends."

you don't say anything, too busy trying to understand what he actually means by that. nico smirks easily at you, "so we only have to pretend that we kiss and well....fuck."

you blush. "nico!"

“it’s true.” amused, he looks at you. "and, well, you can't turn red anytime someone makes a suggestive comment.”

groaning, you pull your knees to your chest, creating a spot for you to hide your burning face, tucking your head between your kneecaps. "can't help it." you say, but all nico can hear is your muffled voice making no sense as you talk into your legs.

"it's okay." he reassures you lightly. "so, what's your family like? what do I need to know?" he changes the flow of topic easily, which successfully has you pulling your head up.

"well." you start, voice a pitch higher than normal—contemplating what to say. “my mom she's very.....out there. she's not shy, and her social awareness isn't very high, meaning she doesn't care about strangers or what they think of her." your eyes flicker away from the busy highway infront of you, looking over at nico to gauge his reaction.

he hums, "what else?"

you sigh, eyes finding the road once again. "she also loves me...too much I think. and she always wants what's best for me — even if she thinks that's scott."

"she sounds fun." nico's words take you by surprise, because fun usually isn't the first word that comes to mind after describing your dear mother. you quickly turn your head, but much to your surprise, nico isn't joking. he's being sincere—smiling softly. "honestly she sounds like my mom."

the mention of nico's family has you feeling a bit hallow, and you remember the only reason he's able to help you out is because he couldn't fly out to be with his family. you tuck your bottom lip between your teeth, nibbling the skin until it feels sore. "i'm sorry about your family, nico. I really wish it would've worked out for christmas."

he shrugs once, glancing back over at you. "it's not your fault. besides, i'm here with you, right? so my christmas is coming together." you deflate slightly, nico's sweet and almost vulnerable words leaving you feeling rather soft. "so who else will be there? besides your mom and this scott guy?"

you huff a laugh, "well I don't know how much of scott we will be seeing now that i'm bringing you, but I do know that my older sister, tammy and her husband brody will be there. along with my niece, taylor - hence the disney princess wrapping paper." you thumb over your shoulder where there are multiple oddly shaped presents, all wrapped in disney paper.

nico snickers, sending you a teasing look. "thought you were just wrapping your own gifts."

"nico!" you laugh sweetly, "you’re ridiculous."

he smiles. "okay, okay. how old is your niece?"

"she just turned 6, back in november." you hum, leaning over slightly to turn the radio back up—only at volume 2—letting the familiar jingles add to the ambiance of the snowy jersey weather.

one of nico's brows raise. "so you've got a birthday twin?"

"wha-how do you know my birthday is in november?" you're clearly baffled, looking at nico like he just told you he met your long lost twin.

he glances at you wildly. "I don't have a brick for a brain! c'mon y/n/n, just because dougie is a stupid hockey player doesn't mean I am."

a dig at your best friends boyfriend never fails to make you chuckle, and you wrap your arms around yourself tighter, keeping yourself warm. although nico was joking around, you still aren't sure how he knew the month you were born in—how he remembered when your birthday was. it's just not something you thought nico would take note of. you don't do big parties for yourself, and you don't even post to social media—bree being one of the only people to celebrate you online.

your laughter dies down gently. "i'm just suprised that you'd remember."

his lips tug downwards in the beginning of a frown. "why would I forget?" nico's eyes flicker to yours once again, holding your gaze with a soft and warm expression. you take in a shaky breath, unable to find yourself wanting to look away from nico. his words, although nothing that deep, feel like the bottom of a warm lake, heating your chest with his question. it's a bare minimum that you've yet to experience with any boyfriend, real or fake.

he clears his throat quickly, eyes flickering away from your face and back through the snowflake covered windshield. "okay, what are our rules here? I don't want you to be uncomfortable with any of this fake dating stuff."

"oh. right, ummmm-" you blink, trying to recover from the abrupt shift in conversation and shift in your heart. "well to start, any question that my family asks about us and how we met, just tell them the truth. no need to fabricate some elaborate story—especially considering i've brought you up before...god my mom is going to die when she sees you." you mumble the last part to yourself, already picturing your moms face when you tell her the nico you're dating is also your friend nico.

he doesn't hear the end of your scentence, and only nods understandably, switching lanes. "got it."

you continue, "and this relationship between us is a new thing-- i'm talking’s within the last two months new. if they ask we say that we were just testing the waters of our relationship. and that gives me an excuse of why I hadn't told my mom about us before tuesday."

"that's good" nico hums appreciatively, clearly impressed with the little plan you'd made for you both. "plus it will make us look less insane when we are all over other and acting lovey dovey. that it’s just the honey moon phase."

your belly swoops, and your eyes widen in a slight panic. "why would we be all over each other?"

nico looks almost dumbfounded at your rushed question, his brows practically touching the edge of the hockey branded beanie sitting across his forehead. "because we are supposed to be dating."

you feel a little stupid in that moment, and when the end of nico's reminder is accompanied by a teasing smile you begin to feel very embarrassed. you try not to face palm, clearing your throat. "right, duh! that makes sense then." nico nods in amusement, which really has you wanting to face palm.

wanting to get back to the earlier discussion of rules, you hum in continuation. "I think cuddling and stuff is fine, right? like we can cuddle on the couch and hold hands in town."

"if you're comfortable with that." nico says, shooting you a glance, taking in your face to try and dissect your expression—trying to find an answer on your face before you say anything.

you laugh once, and even that sounds weird—no wonder nico keeps looking at you. "why wouldn't I be?"

"you're turning red just talking about it."

you face falls. "i'm going to throw myself out of this car."

"no, no." nico chuckles. "any other rules you want to lay down?" his eyes twinkle with playfulness as he shoots you another glance. "like what about kissing?"

obviously you blush because what. you don't let yourself react in the way your body desperately wants to, instead you keep your posture the same, humming in thought. "we don't need to kiss unless absolutely necessary."

once again, your eyes fall back to the driver's side, looking at nico as you wait for his response. you watch him smirk softly, eyes still on the busy roadways as he answers. "sure."

the rest of the car ride is filled with easy conversation and multiple impromptu karaoke sessions— nico laughing anytime you turn the music up and claim that it's impossible to not sing along to a justin bieber christmas song. the easiness of the whole dynamic between you and nico has you feeling much more at ease than you'd been when he first picked you up, and the idea of bringing nico to meet your family is becoming increasingly less stressful.

that is until your mom open the door, squealing in excitement at the sight of you and nico parking in the un-shovelled driveway of the rented ski cabin—waving at you both—your stress levels start to rise back up.

you swallow nervously, the sound of the car engine shutting off setting in your ears - there's no escape now.

"hey," nico mumbles, gathering your attention. he gently reaches towards you and gives your shoulder a reassuring and grounding squeeze. "don't worry too bad. it'll be okay."

all you can muster is a nod, watching through the front windshield as you sister peeks over your moms shoulder, her perfectly styled hair blowing in the wind.

"wanna get the bags now?"

"no," you finally speak, shaking your head. "save them for later just incase we need an escape route."

he chuckles. "okay dramatic - let's go."

with another encouraging nod from the devils captain, you unbuckle your seatbelt, getting out the car along with nico. at the sight of your face, your mom screams, waving at you like a crazy woman from the porch—the woman didn't even put on a coat before coming outside, leaving the door wide open behind her. "y/n, honey! you're here!"

"i'm here." you make your way up the pathway, nico's hand providing a ghostly pressure on your lower back as he trails behind you. "merry christmas momma."

she scoops you into a tight hug, kissing the side of your head repeatedly until it feels like all her lipgloss has transferred to your hairline. "merry christmas! and oh, honey don't be rude—introduce us to this handsome man." over your shoulder, your mom catches sight of nico and his ridiculously charming smile.

he looks so relaxed and happy that you're jealous. you're also jealous that nico manages to look that good after spending 2 hours in a car—but that's not important.

you quickly wrap your arm around nico's torso, bringing yourself into his warm side. nico easily follows suit, wrapping his hoodie covered arm around your shoulders, giving you another comforting squeeze. you smile—extra big—at your mom, rubbing your free hand over nico's covered stomach. "right of course, this is nico. my boyfriend."

recognition flashes across her face, eyes darting between you and your fake boyfriend—who you are currently cuddling with on the cold porch in front of your mom, an action that is very out of the ordinary for you. you can only pray she doesn't think too hard about everything. suddenly, she gasps. "nico?! like your friend nico?"

you scrunch your nose through a faux smile, "that's the one!"

she laughs, "is that why you were so secretive over the phone? so it would be a suprise?"

"yes." you say through gritted teeth, arm tightening around nico's muscular torso, grounding yourself through your white lies.

your mom beams again, hands clutched to her chest as she admires you both - granted your shivering and your toes are borderline frozen.

"it's nice to finally meet you, ms. y/l/n. i've heard so much about you." nico says easily, his accent perfectly complimenting his relaxed tone and demeanour. he removes his arm from your shoulders, and you fight the urge to pout from the lack of warmth, watching as nico puts his hand out for your mom.

she dismisses the formality, moving towards him with her arms wide open. "oh, honey, please call me ella - and i've heard so much about you, I can't believe you're finally here."

your eyes close in embarrassment, face flushing a deep pink as your mom embraces nico.

"mom, let them come in! it's freezing." your sisters honey laced voiced calls out from inside the house, and you can see her making her way back towards the front door, taylor on her hip as she easily saunters over.

your niece happily shouts as she catches sight of you, begging to be put down. tammy obliges, but tells her to wait until you get inside, not wanting a coat and shoeless toddler to walk onto the wintertime porch. behind her, your brother-in-law joins you, smiling and waving at you through the open door before pressing a kiss to your sisters head.

"yes, of course." you mom smiles, turning on her heels and walking through the door. "c'mon in you two, before you turn into ice."

too late—you think.

right before you and nico can pass the threshold into the log cabin, you mom puts her hand out, stopping you with a playful smile ghosting her face. you sister looks borderline fed up, closing her eyes at your moms actions, and brody just looks excited.

confused, you quirk a brow. "what's happening right now? you all look very weird."

you mom points up, "honey, you're under the mistletoe!" you smile falters, your eyes slowly moving up until you catch sight of the array of green mistletoe leaves dangling above you and nico. "it means you have to kiss - house and mistletoe rules."

nico laughs awkwardly beside you, warm eyes also on the festive plant.

"mom, no." you follow suit, chuckling through your discomfort as you set your sights back on your mom.

her brows pull together, a frown overtaking her face. "what, why not? just a little smooch?"

"they just got here, mom. at least let them take off their boots before you make them get to business." you sister—ever the saving grace—tries to move on from the discussion, sending you a wide eyed look behind your moms back.

you nod in thanks, "yeah. don't you think that's a little inappropriate?"

"why would that be inappropriate?" she gawks. "nico doesn't mind, do you?"

"I mean-"

"i'm your child, and you just met him." you interrupt whatever people-pleasing answer nico was about to spew, looking at your mom with an expression mixed up of amusement and bewilderment.

"c'mon, y/n," brody chimes in playfully. "it's not like we are asking you to suck his-" tammy smacks her husbands chest, a warning for him to not finish that scentence. "ouch, babe!"

"little ears." your sister reminds, gesturing to your six year old niece, who is still bouncing on her heels, desperate for you to get inside so she can steal you away. "don't egg her on." tammy is talking about your mom, who is still clueless on why making you kiss your supposed boyfriend when they just meet him is a bit weird.

the whole situation is stressful and overwhelming, and you kind of just want to turn around and make a run for the car. as if nico can sense your anxiety, his grip around you—now with his arm around your waist—tightens ever so slightly, reminding you that you're okay.

you swallow nervously. "let's not make nico-"

you're interrupted by the firm press of nico's lips on your cold cheek, kissing your face gently. the action seems to momentarily silence your family, but soon you can hear your mom cheer happily, mumbling something about how she 'should've taken a picture to send to your aunt shirley'

but you’re too distracted to register anything other than the lingering kiss against your cheek, and there's no doubt that your flesh is warming right under nico's lips. he pulls away, an easy smile taking over his face—like he's not even affected.

brody snickers, "see, y/n? wasn't so hard."

it seems that everyone is satisfied after that, your mom too busy texting on her phone to stop either of you from coming inside—thank god because you're pretty sure the inside temperature has dropped 10 degrees from the door being open.

as soon as you shut the door, taylor comes skipping over, her gapped tooth smile wide as she looks up at you. surprisingly, she doesn't attack you with hugs, but instead stops in front of nico. she looks up at him curiously, her hands resting on her tiny hips. "who are you?"

her bluntness has you laughing, even more so as you take in nico's amused expression, looking down at your niece softly. he bends down to meet her level, placing his hand out infront of her. "I'm nico, i'm your aunties boyfriend. what's your name?"

he already knows her name, but the formality of it all has you melting slightly, watching the interaction with an amused look. her tiny fingers splay over his palm, doing her best at shaking nico's large hand. "i'm taylor. you’re my auntie y/n's boyfriend?" her bright eyes flicker between you and nico curiously.

"I am."

she hums. "but you're too pretty for her."

you gasp, hiding your laughter. joining nico in his crouched position, you drag your giggling niece into your chest, lightly tickling her torso. "excuse you missy!"

"I don't know, taylor. I think your auntie is actually too pretty for me."

"yeah." she shrugs lightly, finally breaking free of your tickling. taylor shuffles back towards nico, "do you want to see my stuffies?"

"you have stuffies?" nico beams, "of course I want to see them." it's instantly that taylor grabs nicos fingers, leading him through the log cabin and presumably towards whichever room she's loaded off her stuffed animals in. you can hear taylor's excited babbling all the way down the hall, accompanied by nico’s enthusiastic responses as they disappear out of sight.

"honey can you go make sure she doesn't bore him to death. I can picture the tea party now." your sister sighs, looking at her husband expectantly.

"yeah," brody then looks at you, a teasing glimmer in his expression that you have grown to recognize. already, you're rolling your eyes. "I can't believe you're fucking an nhl captain y/n. good for you."

"go!" tammy hides her laugh behind her hand, but you can still hear her amusement through the muffled sound. brody waggles his eyebrows in your direction, further teasing you as he leaves.

thankfully your mom had slipped into the kitchen in the time you and nico had been talking with your niece—saving you from facing her after your brother-in-laws ludicrous comment. you can hear brody mutter something along the lines of 'course i'll go talk to the professional athlete, fuck kinda question is that?' — but you can't be so sure.

tammy grabs onto your arms, guiding you into the large, high ceiling living room. from what you've seen of the ski lodge so far, you're very impressed. it's got that rustic christmas feel that reminds you of your childhood, with grand windows and entry ways that overlook the winter scenery. with only a 5 minute drive to the hills, the resort was practically perfect.

you let your sister plop you onto the worn leather couch, the plaid throws scrunching behind your back as they slip around. tammy immediately sits down beside you—close enough that you're touching knees—facing you with wide eyes. "what the hell."

you make a face. "what?"

she scoffs a gentle laugh, eyes darting all over your warm face. "how long have you been crushing on nico?"

"what-what do you mean?" you blush timidly. you're unsure why the question has you feeling nervous—feeling caught—because nico is just a friend. a ridiculously generous friend who immediately agreed to spend christmas with your family to help you out, and is currently playing with your niece just because she wanted him to....its fine, really.

"well you've told me and mom that he was just a friend—you've been saying that for years and now you're dating? what's that about."

"oh, right." you really need to get a hang of the whole fake boyfriend thing, because the amount of times just today you've already forgotten is just criminal, and you're practically begging to get called out. you huff a gentle laugh, tucking your loose hair behind your ear shyly. "I don't know something just....changed."

"clearly." tammy laughs brightly. "how long have you been together?"

you swallow nervously, thinking back to the discussion with nico in the car about this very question. "only a few months. we kept it secret just in case...you know—bree and dougie are the only ones who knew."

tammy nods understandably, but a disgruntled expression quickly forms on her perfectly blushed face. "i'm kind of offended you told dougie before me."

"if it makes you feel any better, dougie was the one who set us up - so I didn't technically tell him anything." the twisted truth comes easily, and you give yourself a mental pat on the back for that one.

"fine. I feel a little better." tammy smiles, shifting her body so that she's tucked against your side, loungewear covered legs bent towards her chest as she relaxes into you. her blonde hair tickles your neck as she tilts her head up towards you, eyeing you with a playful undertone. "he's cute."

"hey! hit on your own man." you try and push her off of you gently, but tammy doesn't allow it, wrapping her arms around you tighter as she laughs.

"i'm just stating the obvious, y/n/n." her nickname for you has you feeling warm and fuzzy, settling back into your cuddly position. you and tammy have always been close, even with your 6 year age gap. you've always done everything together, and told one another all your secrets—so you feel guilty for not telling her about nico, even though it's not real.

"you really like him?" tammy's question is a gentle and sweet whisper, looking up at you like she just knows.

you nod, probably too fast and too enthusiastically—but thankfully tammy isn't paying attention to that, only listening to your words and watching the way your eyes change into a more relaxed and emotional state. "of course," you breathe, smiling. "I mean...he's always been really sweet and kind. always making sure I feel comfortable in a crowded room, checking in on me when he hasn't seen me in a couple days. and well, just today he's made me the most relaxed i've felt in a long time...." you trail off, clearing your throat gently. "sorry, god i'm blabbering."

tammy shakes her head softly, gently grabbing a hold of your hand. "it's okay. it's sweet."

"auntie y/n! look at nico!" the tiny and shrill voice of taylor interrupts the rather tender moment, but thankfully it allows you take take a calming breathe and let your heart rate turn back to normal. your niece skips down the hall, dragging nico behind her as they round into the living room.

the sight of nico has you stifling laughter. "oh...wow."

nico smirks, hands held out as if he was showing himself off. the princess aurora tiara nestled in his brown hair catches the setting sun, sparkling in the dimming light. that combined with the bright pink lipstick smeared around his mouth and the lime green tutu that is 5 sizes too small for a professional athlete around his hips is just too much. "handsome right?"

you hum, nodding sarcastically as he gives you and tammy a spin—showing off taylor's work. "oh yeah."

when nico faces you again, he winks—so quickly you're not even sure if it happened. it has your face warming once again, your sister nudging her pointed elbow into your side as she wordlessly teases you.

what have you gotten yourself into?

after a very amusing hour of dress up—which of course you got dragged into—you all had dinner, thanks to your mom and her random bursts of energy that allow her to cook up roast dinners every other day.

dinner went surprisingly well, and nico seemed to fit into the family dynamic nicely. it was a weight lifted off your chest as you watched him easily discuss sports with your brother in-law and excitingly answer all of your moms borderline intrusive questions. it's full of laughter and honestly you're surprised at how well everything seemingly is going—it's a relief you didn't think you'd get to experience this christmas.

after a long travel day for you and nico, you both decide to retire to bed early, leaving your sister and your mom in the living room— your mother shouting out a general explanation of which bedroom is yours as you go.

you're not sure what you were thinking, but the sight of the large bed in the middle of the room has you feeling nervous, stomach swooping at the thought of having to share a bed with nico. you suppose you believed that some part of your mom still pictured you in highschool with a boyfriend and would make you and nico sleep in separate rooms or beds.

clearly not.

the bed looks absolutely heavenly though, with lots of fluffy pillows and a nice duvet with complimenting throw blankets draped over the corner—you can't wait to sink in and pass out.

nico, who had gone and got your luggage right after dinner, drags both of your suitcases towards the dresser, the gentle click of the handle sliding back into place echoing throughout the room. he turns back to you, "I can sleep on the floor if you're uncomfortable."

your eyes snap away from the luscious bedding and over to nico—he must’ve seen your blank stare. you shake your head quickly, "no - no, we are adults. i'm not going to make you sleep on the floor."

you can practically see the relief on his face and in that moment you're completely convinced that nico would've set up camp on the rug if you asked him to.

you continue, ignoring the weird flutter in your stomach. "plus my mom will probably burst in here every morning to wake us up and I don't want to make up some lie about why my boyfriend is sleeping on the floor instead of in the bed."

"of course." he chuckles, the quiet sound settling through the warmly lit bedroom comfortably. "what side do you want?"

you snicker, waving your hand as if you're trying to appear nonchalant. "oh, i'm not picky."

nico eyes you, one brows raised in question as if he can see right through your attempt at coming across easy-going—you've never even been close to that. "are you lying?"

your shoulders deflate. "yes."

he laughs again, watching as you make your way over to the left side of the bed, tossing your phone in front of the pillows as if you were marking your territory. "it's furthest from the door." you hum like it's obvious, looking at nico with timid eyes.

"sure." he hums softly, eyes lingering one yours for a moment longer before turning away.

nico has his back turned to you, digging through his carry-on in search of his toiletry bag. you watch the way his muscles move, his compression shirt giving you the perfect view of the ripples and hard work he's put into his body. you've never really noticed how in shape nico is—I mean sure you've like noticed he's got muscles because he's a professional hockey player...but you've never appreciated them like you are right now.

"y/n?"

you blink. "huh?"

nico smirks, and you instantly realize he's caught you checking him out. you blush wildly, trying your best not to collapse into an awkward puddle. "I asked if you want to use the bathroom first."

you clear your throat, "no go ahead."

he gives you another knowing smirk before disappearing into the on suite bathroom (which, holy, how nice is this place), travel toiletry bag and a new pair of sweatpants tucked under his arm. as soon as the door clicks shut, you let out a deep breath—one you hadn't realized you'd been harbouring.

thankfully you hadn't worn makeup today, knowing that you’d be travelling—the feeling of being stuck with makeup on your face during the couple hour drive here sounded like a living nightmare. so while nico is busy in the bathroom you quickly change into your christmas red striped pyjamas, shoving your dirty clothes back in your suitcase before nico can see.

the door opens again just as you locate your toothbrush, revealing nico is his team branded sweatpants and...oh he's not wearing a shirt. you swallow heavily, eyes quickly flicking over the expanse of his muscular torso. "bathrooms free." he says, easily moving towards the bed.

you nod. "yeah, thanks."

right before you can shut the door, he calls your name, stopping you in your rather frantic pursuit into the bathroom—which is lingering with the scent of nico's cologne. he smiles at you playfully. "i'll keep the bed warm."

that's it - you're going to drown yourself in the toilet.

DAY 2

you managed to not drown yourself last night—shockingly enough. after nico's fluttering eyes and stomach swooping tease last night, you'd made some stupid joke, one that you can't even remember—you're pretty sure you blacked out. you shut the bathroom door quickly, taking as many deep breathes as you felt applicable.

the entire time you'd been brushing your teeth, you just kept going through calming mantras in your head, desperately trying to grasp ahold of the shit show inside your head. thankfully the rest of the night was easy—easy because as soon as your head hit those inanely comfortable pillows you were out.

the reason for waking up this morning—like expected—was because of your mother, who loudly entered your and nico's room with a tinsel covered sweater and bright smile. "wake up love bugs. taylor wants us all to go into town and look at the trees together!"

you're then hyperaware that nico is obviously still without a shirt, and you happen to be tucked against his bare chest like your life depended on it. his peck, although it doesn't look it, is a surprisingly comfortable pillow. your body stiffen's against him, but before you can roll away, nico tightens his grip around you, keeping you in place.

"give us a few minutes." you manage to tell her, practically rigid against the devils captain. "nico isn't wearing pants." you can hear him make a noise of protest beside you, pinching your hip between his fingers.

"take your time you two!" she sing songs, leaving the room with as much pep in her step as usual. as soon as the door clicks closed, you push off nico, but he doesn't let you get too far, fingers wrapping around your wrist to stop you.

"why'd you tell your mom i'm don't wearing pants?"

"I panicked."

"you're ridiculous—you know she's going to think we had sex now." his amusement is clear, and although it's at the expense of his dignity, nico is enjoying the humor of it all.

you shrug, slipping out of the bed. "hate to break it to you but they already think that."

through the mirror you left your bag in front of, you watch nico eye you from the back, his brows pulled curiously. "and why's that?"

"didn't you know? i'm secretly this like crazy minx who brings different boys to family trips and-" you're interrupted when nico tosses a pillow towards you, his laughter echoing throughout the room.

"get dressed freak."

—

you think one of your favourite things about being around nico is that no matter how his comments make your stomach swoop and how his gentle lingering eyes leaves your heart pounding, it's always easy to speak with him and just...be his friend.

which you suppose is normal with friends—you think?—its kind of hard to tell. you've only been close with your sister growing up, and then when you met bree in college she became your only other companion. when bree met dougie and inevitably started dating him, it opened up this new world to you; going to events and games, meeting so many people all with different personalities and backgrounds.

meeting nico was different though, because unlike the catalog of people that had come in and out of your life, nico was a constant. in the four years of knowing him, he's always managed to be that person—that friend—you felt you'd been missing. despite always playing nonchalant about your relationship with nico, dismissing him to be just a casual friend, you did really like him and cherish that friendship...and it kind of scares you.

after you moms abrupt wake up call, you and nico quickly got ready for the day, bundling in your warmest clothes to bare the chilly downtown weather—granting your nieces christmas tree browsing wishes.

the town is decorated beautifully, with stunning icicle lights dripping from every building, red ribbon wrapped around poles and pulled into bows at every corner, and the trees—filled with various sized and shaped ornaments that perfectly encapsulate the christmas season.

it feels like something out of a hallmark movie with the gentle pressure of nico's hand in yours, guiding you both behind taylor as she excitedly makes you look at everything. your sister and brody watch in amusement, very used to their daughters excitable personality. and of course your mom makes you and nico pose for hundreds of photos, because she has to 'capture the beautiful moment and the beautiful couple.'

she evens asks for you and nico to kiss—again—but just before you have to make up another excuse, brody chucks a snowball right at your chest. you immediately start hurling them back at your brother-in-law, distracting everyone from another non-kiss moment between you and nico.

after a few hours in town you all head back to the lodge, stomachs ready for some warm food to heat up that achy cold emptiness.

you place the serving tray full of freshly buttered buns in the middle of the table, next to the sour cream and shredded colby jack cheese—both necessities with your moms homemade chilli.

on the other side of the table, nico places one of the last bowls, the ceramic dishes clanking together—it's a peaceful noise, one that's often heard in kitchens. his eyes suddenly flicker towards you, and when he catches your stare a slinky smile curves at his lips. "are you judging my placement right now?"

the tease—so mundane and playful—has your smile growing, butterflies tickling the lining of your growling stomach. "never."

his gaze narrows, "well i'm definitely judging your butter abilities—that spread is so uneven."

you gasp, "think you could do better, hischier?"

"oh," he laughs, "I know I could."

you smirk, picking up one of the grapes sitting loose in the fruit bowl at the end of the counter, tossing it in nico's direction. but like the coordinated athlete he is, catches it in his mouth, chewing the crunchy grape slowly—winking at you while he chews.

"y/n," your mom looks at you over her shoulder, "do you mind just finishing adding the herbs? I gotta run upstairs quick."

"sure." you hum, making your way over to the stovetop, taking the long handled wooden stirring spoon from your mom. she thanks you with a squeeze on your arm before waltzing out of the kitchen, disappearing up the stairs.

as you begin twirling the utensil through the thick chilli, you feel nico come up next to you, his chest brushing against your arm. "why are you stirring it like that?"

you look up at him with wide eyes, your amusement clear. "you are just tearing my cooking apart today."

he laughs, "you're not cooking anything. you're simply just spreading and stirring."

a noise similar to a scoff falls from your mouth, and you tear your gaze away from nico quickly. "i'll spread something all right." you mutter with faux irritation, turning your shoulder away from him.

nico laughs again, chest rumbling against your skin. "that sounded dirty." his forearm wraps around your torso, holding you against his chest.

you're momentarily speechless with the feeling of nico touching you so intimately. your slow stirring comes to a stop, the end of the wooden spoon almost falling into the pot—but you don't notice. your head slowly falls backwards, resting just under nico's collarbone. "what are you doing?" you ask quietly, looking up at him.

nico leans down, his lips brushing against your ears. "what does it feel like i'm doing?" his breath is warm on you and you feel a static travel over your body—from your ears, down to your neck and shoulders, even reaching your toes.

"it feels like you're trying to hit on me." your words comes out breathily, barley reaching your own ears.

"maybe I am," he shrugs, and like he didn't just send your heart plummeting to your stomach, nico says, "your sister is watching us."

discreetly your eyes dance towards the large living room where you catch a glance at tammy—who is trying to not make it look obvious as she stares at you both lovingly, a cheesy smile on her face.

"so the only reason you're touching me is because of the audience?—that's a bit freaky, even for you nico."

he pinches your side lightly, which sends you squirming backwards, further into his embrace—chilli and herbs long forgotten. "i'll take any excuse to touch you, y/n."

nico looks down at you warmly, that boyish grin on his face that makes him look so warm and cuddly. you feel your face heat up at his insinuation, and you look away from his playful expression, bowing your head so you're looking back to the chilli.

"you're so pretty when you blush," nico mummers against your skin, pulling you back to his chest.

your blush deepens, a light laughter bubbling through your chest as you playfully push him away. "you're distracting me."

before nico can say anything else, the distant voice of your mother approaches. "and this is the kitchen! isn't it just so beautiful susan? I mean not just the lodge but the whole resort."

susan? who the hell is—oh my god.

nico watches your face drop, your eyes darting towards the kitchens entryway as the voices grow closer, this susan lady answering your mother just as enthusiastically.

he's quickly back at your side, a gentle hand brushing against your lower back. "what's wrong?" nico's question is hushed—determined.

you're honestly surprised that you can hear his whisper over the blood rushing in your ears. the rush of anxiety that pumps through your blood is overwhelming, and the reason you'd brought nico to your families christmas vacation comes trampling back. you swallow roughly, "susan...she's my moms friend and-"

"guys, this is my friend susan and her son scott!" your moms chipper tone halts your scentence, you and nico watching silently as your mom gestures to the unexpected company.

scott is...actually not that bad to look at—which is a gold star on your moms part. the dark haired man is standing merely few feet away from you as he moves to greet tammy. he's got that finance bro look to him, with a crisp button up shirt underneath his puffer vest—why men insist to wear vests inside is something you'll never understand.

he greets brody like a typical male would, bringing him in for a quick slap on the back—a smile on his face that shows his perfectly white teeth.

"y/n, honey this is scott." you mom singles you out, which of course she does, pointing towards scott with a wink in your direction.

you can feel nico stiffen against your back, his forearm snaking back around your waist. before you can think, you let your hand rest over nico's, interlocking your fingers between his resting against your torso.

"nice to meet you, y/n." he greets with a grin. "i'm scott. i've heard so much about you."

"you too, scott." you smile politely. "this is nico-"

"her boyfriend." nico finishes your scentence firmly, the hand that wasn't around your body jutting out on the other side of your body for a handshake. 

scott breathes a laugh, shaking his hand. "boyfriend, huh? lucky guy." briefly scott's eyes flicker back towards you, eyeing you with a look you can't decipher. you feel yourself shrinking further back into nico, seeking that comforting aura that is the devil's captain.

"very much so." he agrees firmly, squeezing the flesh of your hip. there's a tense moment of eye contact between the two men, almost like a wordless battle of alpha male energy—which isn't very like nico.

scott hums curiously. "you look really familiar. do I know you from somewhere?"

"must have one of those faces." nico answers modestly, shrugging his shoulders once.

tammy waltzes into the kitchen, followed by her husband who is holding taylor in his arms. hearing the tail end of the conversation, brody pipes in with a quick laugh. "he looks familiar cause he's the devils captain dude—we are in the presence of jersey royalty."

"a professional athlete?" scott questions, that curious but condescending tone still laced in his voice. "bit unstable, no? unpredictable with trades and that?"

"can be. thankfully i've been lucky enough to have been with the devils since 2017."

"lucky indeed." once again, scott's eyes flicker back to you—giving you that awkward and uncertain feeling.

sensing the tension, tammy quickly intervenes. "taylor did you want to show scott and susan your stuffies before dinner is plated?"

taylor glances towards the two guests. "no." then her tiny brown eyes move towards you and nico, and instantly she's skipping towards you both. "nico can you sit beside me at dinner?"

something prideful blooms in your chest at taylor's request and dismissal of scott and his rather uncomfortable presence. "I don't know taylor," you begin teasingly, "I wanted to sit beside nico first."

she laughs, her adorable toddler giggle like music to your ears. "how about we both sit with nico."

you hum in faux thought. "should we ask him? see what he thinks?"

"yes." she giggles.

nico, who has obviously heard the entire interaction, pretends like he was unaware of the conversation happening quite literally in front of him—he ponders the question playfully, index finger tapping against his chin. when he tells taylor that he will sit with both of you, her tiny face lights up, and you can't help the way yours does as well.

dinner is served very quickly after, brody on serving duty as he fills every bowl with a hefty amount of chilli. the dinner runs relatively smoothly, saved for a few condescending questions from scott asking about only nico. for somebody who was seemingly trying to get to know you—despite having a boyfriend—scott seems to be really interested with the man beside you rather than you yourself.

thankfully only an hour after dinner and enduring painfully boring conversation with susan and scott, they end up leaving to go back to their lodge, and thank god because you desperately are ready for sleep by that point—excusing yourself and nico as you head towards the bedrooms for another much needed nights rest.

you pull the duvet back, creating enough space for you to climb in.

nico follows suit, slipping under the cool flannel sheets. "scott seems..."

you interrupt his trailing thought. "like an asshole?"

"yeah." he breathes. "truly what is that guys deal?"

"I don't know." you roll onto your side, facing nico with a huff. "I can't believe my mom still invited them to dinner. even though susan is supposedly her friend—who, by the way i've never heard of before tuesday. I thought she would've at least...I don't know? respected my boundaries? is that fucked up to say?"

nico shakes his head against the pillow. "no, it's not."

you groan, your irritation clear. "and then when she first introduced us and she winked at me? like hello, what is that about? because as far as she's concerned i'm clearly not looking for a relationship. I brought you here for this exact reason and-"

"hey," nico breathes gently, gathering your attention by running his hand over your pyjama sleeve covered arm. "it's okay, you're okay. I understand that you're feeling stressed and frustrated but don't get in your head about this."

you take a deep breath, nodding.

nico continues, "I don't think she had any malicious intentions with inviting them to dinner. I think she was pleasing people—like you would."

"I just wish her people pleasing didn't involve a literal walking bag of crap."

nico breathes a quiet laugh at your insult. "she just wants what's best for you, y/n—like you said. she doesn't realize that it's making you uncomfortable and she's too distracted by it all to notice that scott is 'a literal walking bag of crap.'"

your lip tugs upwards slightly.

"you should talk to her about it."

you groan, face rolling into the fluffiest part of your pillow. "I think as my boyfriend you should talk to her for me."

"i'm not actually your boyfriend." he laughs.

you scoff. "way to ruin the mood."

nico's smile is barley visible through the dark bedroom, but you can still see it, and the sight had you following suit, a grin taking over your face. he rests his head on his bicep, facing you. it all feels so intimate and precious and you never want to forget it.

your heart beat feels like it's bordering on dangerously fast—making you feel the best kind of nervous. you're glad the room is dark because you blush, clearing your throat. "i'm so happy that you're here nico. I don't know what I would've done today if you weren't with me."

his smile falters slightly as he swallows thickening salvia, eyes trained on your face softly through the moonlit room. "i'm happy i'm here too..with you."

DAY 3

you peer down the snow covered hill, gnawing on your lip in an unsure manner. "does it seem bigger from up here?" your hands wrap around the ski poles tightly, desperately trying to keep yourself from moving forward.

nico expertly slides in front of you, his skis bumping yours. "do you want to go back down? we can just walk back to the lodge if you're feeling scared."

you shake your head quickly. "i'm not scared...im just worried about falling on my face." truth of the matter is that you are feeling scared—scared because you actually hadn't skied since you were 10, and you'd actively avoided the actual ski part of your holiday trips by sitting in the lodge and reading whatever book you'd been into since then—but not this year.

nico wanted to get out on the hills, and even though he said that he didn't mind if you wanted to stay at the house or even in the holiday themed ski lodge, you didn't want him to feel alone out there, especially because he's doing you a favour in just being apart of your families christmas—so here you are on top of the ski hill. plus, any excuse to get away from scott, which of course your mom invited him and susan to spend the day with you all, you'd take.

"you're not going to fall on your face." nico tells you, his tone gentle as he looks down at you.

"you don't know that." you say. "what happens if my ski catches a divet in the ice and I go head over heels into the snow?"

he laughs gently. "the only reason you'll fall is because your hairs in your face—here." nico ditches his poles in the snow, and with glove covered hands he reaches towards your face. gently he tucks your hair underneath your hat, pushing away any hairs that have fallen out from your braid.

you swallow, eyes flickering over his face. "i'm a little nervous." you finally admit.

"it's okay to be nervous." nico adjusts the strap of your goggles over your pink helmet, moving it into a proper position. "it's also okay to back out."

"I don't want to back out." you huff. "I want to do it."

his lip tugs upwards in a half smile. "yeah?"

"yeah." you nod. "but you have to do it with me." you both make your way—you very cautiously—towards the edge of the slope. "i'm serious nico."

"I won't leave your side, okay? fix your knees like I showed you earlier...yup, just like that." he watches you intently, making sure you're in a proper position. nico finds your face again, an apprehensive look in his eyes. "you sure?"

"think so." you hum. "it’ll be fine." before you can decide to back out, you manually push forward until your skis take over, sliding down the first dip of the hill, sending your downward.

the sound of your skis slicing through the icy snow is a rather relaxing sound, one that has a smile breaking out on your face. the feeling of quickly moving through time, with the cool air kissing your exposed cheeks is rather freeing, and for a moment you're not thinking about anything other than yourself and nico.

you can hear nico follow suit, following your tracks within a safe distance. "good! keep your blades a little bent! like pizza." he calls to you, voice travelling through the wind whipping past your ears.

"am I doing it?!" you question loudly, eyes still casted forward as you reach the middle area of the slope, continuing the rather speedy descent down the snowy hill.

"you're doing it." nico answers proudly—a boyish chuckle following.

"oh my god!" you scream happily, "i'm doing it." you slide over a small lip on the hill, propelling slightly into the air. miraculously, you land with only a small teeter in your legs, continuing to ski downwards.

in a moment of excitement, you turn to look over your shoulder, eyes wide and full of disbelief as you find nico. "did you see that?"

his face falls. "y/n, watch out!"

as soon as nico's warnings finishes, you feel somebody slam into you, affectively sending you off balance and smacking towards the ground. you feel the snow cover your face as you land, and you groan out, eyes closing as a quick wave of pain washes over you.

"holy fuck—y/n are you okay?" the voice sounds a little distant to your ears, like they are muffled. they help you sit up, gently cradling your biceps with their hands as they pull you into a sitting position.

you squint in attempt to focus your vision, blinking quickly to clear the blur. "what?"

nico's concerned face slowly appears in your eyesight. "are you okay?"

you groan again. "I think so."

he breaths loudly—a sound of relief. his hands move from your arms and towards your face, un-clipping the helmet strap from under your chin. nico pulls the hot pink protective gear off your head, leaving you with your damp beanie and snow coated braid. "you scared me for a second there. does anything hurt?"

"not really, maybe just a little sore and bruised." you swallow gently as you watch nico as he gently moves your head from side to side, checking for external injuries. his gaze is so intense—so focused. the embarrassment and lingering pain in your limbs has you feeling emotional, and your lip trembles. "i'm sorry."

instantly, nico's eyes snap back to yours. "don't apologize." he watches the way your eyes begin to well up with tears, quickly looking around as if you're seeing how many people are watching you. immediately he knows you're feeling embarrassed on top of everything else, and he pulls you into his chest, pressing a quick kiss against your hairline over your knitted hat.

you can barley feel the kiss, but it's enough to where the gesture has you melting—melting because he wasn't doing it because somebody in your family is watching or making him…nico simply just wanted to.

"you're okay." he mumbles against your hat.

"I think I wanna walk the rest of the way." you mumble waterly, attempting to joke.

he smiles against you, "you think so?" pulling back, he meets your eyes, a boyish grin on his face. the sight instantly has you feeling better, and with a small grin you nod.

nico helps you remove your boots from the ski blades, popping open every latch and button so you're easily able to slip out of the boot slot. he follows suit with his own ski's, freeing himself of the blades hold so he's left in only the chunky boots.

a familiar voice calls your name, approaching you and nico. "shit i'm sorry." scott says, stopping in front of you with his ski's tucked under his arm. "I didn't realize it was you."

nico stiffens. "you hit her? seriously?"

"I just said sorry man." scott huffs. "no need to get all annoyed."

his brows raise is pure shock, eyes squinting accusingly in the shorter man's direction. "sorry doesn't help. what if she got seriously hurt?"

"she didn't though."

nico breathes in disbelief. "that's not the point."

scott takes a step back, "relax, dude."

"she's my girlfriend. I can't relax."

"whatever." scott looks back towards your shy face, offering you a sympathetic shrug. "sorry again y/n."

you nod once. "thanks."

that's all it takes for scott to leave again, practically jogging away from the both of you, back down the hill. he disappears behind the slope of the hill, and immediately nico is turning back to you, his expression that was only moments ago hard and strong, now soft. "he doesn't deserve your apology."

"I know." you breathe. "but I was done listening to him."

nico nods understandably, but he looks slightly worried—guilty maybe? "are you upset with me about that?"

"no. i'm glad you were here to defend me honestly. I would've crumbled under the pressure of my own need to be a people pleaser." you laugh lightly.

the ghost of a smile takes over his face. "promise?"

you nod. "help me down the hill? I need you right now—my hips a little sore."

in an instant nico is grabbing you, careful of your sore hip as he wraps an arm around your torso. "let me know if you need to stop at all, okay?"

you both begin to slowly walk down the hill, nico dragging the ski stuff behind you. "you worry too much." you tease him, gaze flickering to his face.

he breathes a laugh, not looking away from the hills. "yeah I worry cause I—" he pauses briefly, a gentle gulp following. "cause you're my friend, y/n."

"your friend?" you question his choice of words quietly—timidly.

finally, he meets your eyes. "yeah."

there's a moment then, where you're looking at one another with eyes that say a million things your mouths can't yet. you're unsure whether or not nico was about to admit to something—deeper feelings—before correcting himself, and you're not sure if you'll ever know.

but you're too scared—to anxious—to find out. because if it's not the answer you're hoping for, your christmas eve will be ruined, and your heart will be broken.

you laugh, breaking the tension. "that's not very fake boyfriend of you to say."

nico blinks once, but soon his expression changes into a more playful one, eyes twinkling with amusement. "c'mon y/n/n."

—

the warm bubbles are slightly ticklish against your skin, but it's a pleasant feeling. you sink further into the hot tub, letting the jets and heat do their job on your sore body.

as the sun started setting through the kitchen window, the pain of your earlier incident was only getting worse, and you could barley move without hissing in pain.

after the 8th groan of discomfort during jim carey's grinch, your mom suggested the hot tub. after all what good were you trying to put presents under the tree if you couldn't even bend over to pick them up.

the almost instant relief from the hot tub was enough to have you moaning out, submerging up to your shoulders and letting the water splash up your neck.

a beat passes and the sliding door sounds, opening into the cool night. "hey, got the presents from my car." nico stands by the entrance, peering through the dimly lit deck over in your direction.

"did you give them to tammy?" you question gently.

"I did." nico hums, gently shutting the door behind him. "you okay in there?"

"getting there." you sigh, eyes carefully watching as nico makes his way through the covered deck—no doubt the cold snow covering his feet in the slides he’d slipped on before getting the presents.

"anything you need from me?"

the nighttime pain reliever you’ve been popping since getting back from the lodge has you feeling a bit sleepy and loopy—completely erasing any kind of filter you have. you raise a brow, squinting at him through the mist coming off the water. "I want you to get in."

he laughs gently, resting his hands against the edge of the tub as he looks over at you. nico takes his lip between his teeth briefly, eyes flickering over your submerged figure. "didn't bring a bathing suit."

"nico." you whine, dragging his name out.

"you can't get upset with me," he smirks, "you didn't tell me there'd be a hot tub."

"okay, well just strip down into your underwear and get in." you breathe, "promise I won't look." you hold your hand up like you’re in scouts, looking up at him with most puppy-dog expression you can manage.

"y/n..." he trails off, almost like a gentle warning.

you continue. "i'll even let you have one of my three towels afterwards so you don't have walk back inside in just your underwear.”

his brows pull together. "why did you bring three towels?"

"I like to be extra warm—just get in."

a moment passes—practically watching the gears turn in nico’s head as he debates your ask. just when you think you’ll have to beg again, desperate to have nico close to you, he sighs, pushing off the edge of the hot tub. in one swift motion he pulls his hoodie off, his muscles flexing beneath his rising t-shirt, exposing nico’s hard v-line and happy trail.

you smile in satisfaction, watching as he continues to shed his clothes until he's left in just his black boxer shorts. you try your best to not stare—you really do—but when your fake boyfriend happens to be that muscular and hot, it's hard to keep your eyes away.

he quickly steps into the steaming hot tub, joining you under the water. "happy?"

you smile triumphantly. "very much. I feel better already."

"I bet you do."

a beat passes, only the sound of the running jets to be heard through the night. it's very relaxing, and with nico with you it now feels 10 times better. under the water you extend your leg until your foot gently nudges his leg—grabbing his attention. "thank you again for today. for everything, I just...i'm really happy that dougie called you for me. because I would've been too nervous to ask you myself."

his brows raise. "why would you have been nervous?”

shyly, you shrug. "I don't know, I just didn't want you to think I was...taking advantage of you or something."

"I wouldn't have thought that—I don't think that." nico moves closer to you, the warm water sloshing around slightly as he comes to a stop in the seat beside you. instinctively you turn your body towards him, eyes curious and knowing all at once.

a beat passes.

"did you know when I was a kid on christmas eve I used to convince my sister that if she didn't let me have her last advent chocolate santa wouldn't come."

you grin. "you didn't."

he laughs. "I so did. and I remember feeling like such a badass about it to. then when she found out that santa wasn't real and I was simply just conning her into an extra chocolate she lost it—and I mean lost it."

"what did she do?"

"obviously she told my parents, which was expected." nico hums. "but she also smashed my game system—like completely destroyed it with our dads hammer."

you gasp, "no."

"yeah and I cried like a baby."

you laugh gently.

nico continues. "looking back now I definitely shouldn't of been so sneaky. and now every christmas I always buy her an advent calendar as an apology."

"that's kind of cute." you coo sweetly.

his eyes soften at the sound, watching your head tilt in admiration. "you would really like her. you two are kind of similar."

you stifle a knowing laugh. "after hearing how she smashed your gaming stuff I think I have to agree—one year I sent taylor's favourite scarf for a trip in the fireplace."

nico snickers, "you little rebel."

"don't laugh," you smile. "she had taken my favourite babydoll I'd opened that christmas and covered the entire face in marker. so instead of going to my parents like I should have, I just threw her scarf right in the fire."

"damn," he breathes. "remind me not to steal your baby dolls."

"oh since then i've kept them all locked away, so you'll never find them." your eyes glisten with a playful shimmer, looking at nico teasingly. he mimics your lighthearted expression, a warm smile pulling on his lips.

your eyes wander to his exposed arm, catching sight of the familiar pattern of ink on his inner arm. "i've always like this one." slowly you reach out, tracing the tattoo with a wet finger.

"yeah?" he watches the way your touch moves over the artwork, your fingers leaving a wake of goosebumps on his skin—despite the heat from the hot tub, chills run over his body.

"yeah." you nod. "does it mean anything?"

"it's my families star signs," he points to the first one, tracing the greek symbol. "they all bleed into one another, almost like it's representing a family line."

“nico that’s…really cool.” you smile gently. "when did you get it?"

he laughs gently, a blush coating his cheekbones. "long time ago."

you snicker, eyes flickering back towards his face and away from the sentimental tattoo on his string bicep. “alright old man.”

he quirks a brows at you, amused. "we're the same age."

playfully you shush him, bringing your finger towards his plump lips in a silencing motion.

quickly, nico grabs your wrist, pulling your tiny hand away from his face. his firm yet teasing grasp around your hand sends your skin into a flurry of flames, igniting under his warm palm.

his eyes flicker between your eyes and your pouty lips as if he can't decide where to look—what to do.

you lean in ever so slightly, scared that if you move too suddenly you'll wake up from a dream. nico's hold on your hand changes, fingers trailing down your wrist and off your arm.

his hand finds your slick thigh under the bubbly water, and your heart feels like it's going to jump out from your ribcage with how hard and intensely its beating. as nico's thumb begins to rub along your skin, pleasantly tickling your thigh, you think you may just die.

your hand inches towards his torso under the water, your fingernails just scraping softly against his abs—

"I should get out." nico mumbles. "I haven't packed yet and I gotta leave before 9."

you swallow the disappointment you're feeling, blinking away your emotions as you pull your hand away. "yeah. sure."

he gets out of the hot tub, and you can't even watch him as he does. nico wraps himself in one of your towels before gently looking back towards you. "i'll see you inside, okay?"

you hum in acknowledgment.

and then he leaves.

you mope in the hot tub a little bit longer than expected, and by the time you finally drag yourself back inside the only person awake is your mom.

she sits on the couch silently, finishing up some last minute wrapping of what seems like a gift for brody—some football jersey for a team you don't recognize. "feel better honey?" she asks.

you nod once. "yeah, thanks." you start to walk further into the home, towards the stairs, but your mom stops you, calling out your name quietly.

"before you go upstairs," she sighs, "I just wanted to say i'm sorry about scott. I shouldn't have even put that idea in your head when I called you and I shouldn't have invited him and susan around the that times I did. he was not only disrespectful towards you, but he was disrespectful towards nico and your relationship."

your chest warms. "thanks mom. it's okay."

"but I already invited them for breakfast after presents tomorrow—honestly susan is kind of a bitch and the last thing I need is for her to fuck me over to corporate because I didn't have her and her asshole son over for breakfast."

you snort, which has your mom joining in on the hushed laughter. you're truly not upset about that, and if anything the whole thing is so authentically your mom that you're almost glad she invited them.

just when you think she's done, your mom continues with a twinkle in her eyes. "I must say y/n, I've never seen you happier or more comfortable in a relationship that what i'm seeing when you're with nico. honey I don't know why it took you so long to realize there was something more between you, because nico is special."

you feel tears well up in your eyes, a million unsure emotions coming to a tilt in your throat. you nod. "yeah. he is."

DAY 4

"do you really have to go?" taylor's tiny voice wobbles with emotion slightly, looking up at nico with her wide animated eyes.

he crouches down to her level, soft gaze unwavering. "unfortunately. I have to work tomorrow.”

"okayyyy." she pouts. "maybe next time you can bring your stuffies for the tea party."

"that's a great idea." he grins at the way your nieces face lights up, already giddy at the thought of the next party.

your mom suddenly cooes, moving towards the front door where nico stands with his suitcase. she frowns at him, "honey thank you so much for coming, you've been wonderful."

he stands to his full height, embracing your mom as she wraps her arms around him in a familiar hug. "thank you for having me."

you watch silently, gnawing the skin around your thumb anxiously. you'd been dreading this since you were awoken at 7 by your niece for presents, and saying goodbye to nico today was weighing on you heavily—even with the lingering unspoken words from last nights abrupt departure.

"safe driving, nico." tammy smiles towards him kindly.

brody chimes in, "yeah man, can't have you going down. the devils need you."

your fake boyfriend laughs gently, nodding. "i'll try my best to get home in one piece." then nico's eyes flicker towards you, a soft yet sad expression pulling at his face. he takes a deep breathe, plastering on a bigger smile. "i'll see you when you're home."

you nod, your own forced smile on. "i'll see you then, nico." there’s an unspoken meaning with the goodbye—one that feels permanent and you hate it. with one more emotional glance in your direction nico waves goodbye to your family….and then he leaves.

the hallow feeling that runs through your bones is almost painful, your eyes trained on the spot he was just standing. a million feelings run through you at once—hurt, anger, confusion, warmth, guilt. it's all one big stressful ball, but yet somehow through all that you know there's real feelings for your friend there, ones that have been making your heart run ramped and your stomach flip around with butterflies for years.

"hey," scott's quiet voice interrupts your thoughts, looking over at you with flirtatious eyes. "if things with lover boy don't work out, ill be here." you’d honestly forgot him and susan were here, arriving just after taylor had tore through all her presents for breakfast.

it had you rushing to open your present from nico—because of course he bought you a present—his jersey and a handbag you’d been wanting for years. a handbag that only bree knew you loved, meaning that he talked to your best friend to get you the perfect christmas gift.

and yeah…you really like nico hischier.

blinking out of your thoughts, you properly turn and face scott. "that will never happen."

you look around the room at your family, who have now all resumed their normal routine throughout the home. taylor’s making your brother-in-law open every new toy so she could play with them, while your mom and susan busy themselves in the kitchen, talking while the kettle boils for another round of coffee.

you catch tammy's eyes and she nods—knowingly. you breathe a sigh of what feels like relief, and a tiny smile begins to pull at your lips. "i'll be right back." you mutter, and before you even realize what you're doing, you slip on somebodies slides, leaving out the front door.

the wind blows right though your gingerbread pyjamas, the cold biting against your skin—but you don't care as the only thing you can think about is him. "nico!"

the sound of your voice has him pausing, rounding from the back of his vehicle where he was loading his suitcase in. nico’s brows pull together tightly, looking and feeling rather confused as you hurriedly make your way towards him—merely slipping out of your shoes as you hit a patch of ice.

"what are you doing?" he questions.

"don't go." you words a rushed, looking up at him with a shy confidence in your eyes.

nico sighs quietly. "I don't really have a choice."

you shake your head, eyes closing in frustration. "I know - fuck don't don't go just stay...for a second."

"what are you trying to say, y/n?"

"I like you - like really like you." finally you break, looking towards nico with nothing but vulnerability on your face. "and I think deep down I always knew that, but something about this weekend...watching you interact with my family and seeing how much they like you—it's amplified everything to 100."

you swallow the lump forming in your throat, trying your best at keeping your voice steady as you continue. "and I really didn't think i'd be chasing after a guy in my pyjamas this weekend, but here I am. because you're not just some guy, nico. you're the guy. and I can't let you leave without saying that because I don't think i'll ever have the courage to say it again."

nico swallows. "I can't believe you just told me that." he pauses, a small laugh bubbling past his lips. "and right when I have to leave. because now I really want to stay."

you let go of a breath you weren't aware you were holding, relief rushing over you body at his words.

he continues. "I like you so much it's not even funny."

"you do?" you question shyly.

"yes." nico takes a step towards you, now close enough to reach out and touch. "you're my favourite."

"favourite what?" you whisper.

"everything." he reaches out, gently taking ahold of your face between his cold palms. his thumbs stoke along your cheeks comfortingly, looking down at you with half-lidded eyes as his gaze moves towards your lips. "what was the rule about kissing again?"

you inhale sharply, your own eyes watching nico's lips inch closer and closer towards yours. "only if absolutely necessary."

"thought so." nico's words are mumbled between you, lips brushing against yours before he finally closes the gap, connecting your mouths in a much desired kiss.

in that moment it's hard to think about anything other than the skillful and practiced kisses nico is giving you, his hand nestled at the base of your skull as he holds you to him, but one thing you do know is that you should've done this fake boyfriend thing years ago.

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[incognit0slut]

i hope this is how to send a request cuz this is my first time requesting anything. but i wanted to ask if you could do a story of spencer x reader of when he comes back home from prison in season 12? i don't know if i want it to be girlfriend and boyfriend or if they're married i don't really know, sorry. but i don't really mind either way. hope you can write something like this, thank you :))) <333

tysm for trusting me with your first request and sorry this took so long, it's also kind of rushed and I'm not too confident with it but I hope you like it <3

Home is whenever I’m with you

Category: angst, hurt, comfort, gn reader ~1.7k words

He’s back. Your boyfriend is back. There's a tangle of nerves in the pit of your stomach at the mere thought of seeing him again, especially after all that’s happened. You get to hug him, to kiss him, to feel the softness of his thick, beautiful hair under your fingers again.

But not now. His mother is missing. Those are the words Emily spoke to you over the phone after she called to let you know he’s released. It’s ironic, to hear such wonderful news just to be followed by something so disheartening. And the guilt creeps in, that nagging feeling that maybe, just maybe, if you had gone to visit his mom as planned, this nightmare could've been avoided.

“Do not blame yourself,” Emily adds, her voice is a lifeline in the chaos of emotions. It's as if she can read your thoughts, know exactly what you're feeling without you saying a word. “Just stay where you are, okay? I've got agents keeping an eye on your building. I'll keep you updated."

You're left with no choice but to accept. Your boyfriend may be back, but you still can’t see him.

And you get it. His mom comes first, always has, and always will. A child's love for their parents is unbreakable, and if you were in his shoes, you'd move heaven and earth to keep your parents safe. So, naturally, you do what any loving and supportive girlfriend would do—you wait.

And wait. And wait. And wait. Each passing second stretches into agonizing minutes, and those minutes drag on into long, uncertain hours. One skipped meal turns into two, and suddenly, you're lying in bed in the dead of night with an empty stomach. You know you should take care of yourself, but your mind is fixated on him.

What is he doing? Has he eaten anything? Is he taking breaks at all? Has he managed to get any sleep? And most importantly, has there been any news about his mom? 

Your mind is racing, flooded with countless unanswered questions. You try to find comfort in sleep, but every ring of your phone feels like a cruel interruption, each time hoping it's him—or at least a word from his friends. But it's always a disappointment, just meaningless notifications and distant messages from your friends about mundane plans.

Eventually, exhaustion overtakes you, but your sleep is restless, it's as if your mind refuses to grant you a moment of respite. Then, in the quiet hours of the night, at two in the morning, you're jolted awake by the familiar sound of a new message on your phone.

His mom is safe.

A sigh of relief escapes you, almost audible in the silence. You type out a response to Emily with trembling hands.

That’s good to hear. Is he fine?

Not great, but he's managing.

That's all you need to hear. His mom is safe, and though he's not doing great, he's managing well enough. With a weight lifted off your shoulders, you finally allow yourself to relax. At least now you can drift back into sleep knowing that he's partially okay.

You wake up again later that night by a rapid knocking. At first, you try to brush it off as just noise from the neighbors, but as you slowly come to your senses, you realize it's coming from your apartment.

Half-worried and half-curious, you reluctantly peel yourself from the comfort of your bed, your mind racing with possibilities as you approach the door. When you glance through the peephole, you're met with a sight that instantly jolts you awake. Without a second thought, you fumble with the lock and swing the door open.

And there your boyfriend stands, but he's a far cry from the man you remember. His hair is wild and unkempt, and his eyes, usually bright and lively, are now dull and tired, shadowed by exhaustion. He's dressed in his usual suit and tie, a combination you've always admired for its professional and polished look. But today, his shirt is half-tucked, half-untucked, and his tie hangs loosely around his neck

“Spence, what are you—”

Before you can finish, he bursts through the door, wrapping his arms tightly around you.

"I'm sorry," he breaks, his voice strained with emotion. "I—I wanted to come here as fast as I can—"

“Hey, hey, it’s alright.” You wrap your arms around his waist and take in a deep breath. Despite his disheveled appearance, he smells exactly as you remember—warm, familiar, like home. “It’s all good, honey, I don’t mind.” 

“It’s not alright. I should’ve answered your calls—”

“Spencer, it’s okay,” you interrupt gently, running your fingers soothingly down his back. “After all the time you’ve been away, a few more hours hardly matter.”

“Well, it should matter,” he mumbles against your skin, his voice muffled as he buries himself in the crook of your neck. “I shouldn’t have left you like this.”

You hold him tighter, feeling his weight against you, his breath warm against your skin. “Shh,” you murmur, rubbing his back in comforting circles. “You’re here now, that’s all that matters.”

He nods against your neck, his grip on you tightening as if he's afraid to let go.

“How’s your mom?”

He lifts his head slightly, meeting your gaze with tired eyes. “She’s... she’s okay,” he replies. “We found her. She’s safe now.”

You exhale a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, relief flooding through you. “I’m glad to hear that,” you say, cupping his cheek gently. “Are you okay?”

He hesitates for a moment as if considering the question carefully. “I’m fine, just… tired.”

Your fingers traced the lines of exhaustion etched on his face. “Let’s get you inside and comfortable, okay?”

He nods, and you usher him inside, relief flooding through you as you close the door behind you. Your fingers naturally intertwine with his as you guide him towards your bedroom.

“Do you want anything? Water, food?”

He shakes his head, falling into step with you. “Maybe later,” he murmurs, squeezing your hand. “How have you been?”

"Well," you begin, your voice filled with warmth. "'I've been keeping busy while you're gone.”

You lead him to the edge of the bed, sitting him down while you stand between his legs, your eyes meeting his tired gaze. "Work has been... work," you say with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood. “And I managed to put up the shelf I bought online. Look.”

You gesture towards the bookshelf nestled in the corner of the room and he follows your gaze. “You did that all by yourself?”

"Yeah, I did," you reply, your smile widening. "It wasn't easy without having you constantly nagging me how to do it, but I figured it out."

He nods, a hint of regret shadowing his features. “I'm sorry I wasn't here to help you.”

You shake your head, moving closer to him and placing a comforting hand on his cheek. "Don’t apologize.”

He leans into your touch, his gaze meeting yours with a vulnerability that tugs at your heartstrings. His eyes, wide and brown, look up at you, and you can’t help but compare him to a puppy—sad, yet undeniably endearing, with an innocence that melts your heart. You brush a thumb gently across his cheek, noting the subtle change in his appearance.

“You grew out your facial hair.”

A faint blush colors his cheeks as he shifts under your gaze. "Yeah, I guess I did," he replies, his voice tinged with self-consciousness. 

You can't help but smile at his bashfulness. "I like it," you assure him. "It suits you."

“Really?”

“It’s growing on me.”

His expression softens at your words, a warmth spreading through his tired features. "Maybe I'll keep it.” 

You nod in agreement, a smile playing on your lips as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer. He sighs contentedly as he leans into your chest, and you gently stroke his hair, soothing him with your touch.

"It's good to be back," he murmurs, his voice muffled against your shirt.

"It's good having you back," you reply softly, brushing a strand of his hair away from his face.

“I thought I was never going to see you again.”

"Why would you think that?”

He hesitates for a moment. "After everything that happened... I wasn't sure if I'd make it back to you.”

You gently tilt his chin up, meeting his gaze. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that.”

His eyes glisten with unshed tears as he nods, his vulnerability laid bare. "I was also afraid that I might lose you,” he adds. “I was afraid you’d get tired of waiting for me.”

“Oh, honey…”

“Everyone I care for always leaves, sooner or later. And I can’t bear the thought… the thought of not coming home without you in my life,” he admits, his voice trembling with emotion and you feel a lump form in your throat as you listen. "I feel… so different right now. I don’t feel like my usual self, and I-I was afraid you wouldn’t like this version of me.”

You pull back slightly, cupping his face in your hands, your gaze locked with his. "I would never think any less of you.”

He sniffs, and that's when you notice a tear escaping down his cheek. Your heart aches even more. “I might not be the same person you last saw me.”

You shake your head, brushing away his tears with your thumb. "It doesn't matter," you reply earnestly. “You're still the person I fell in love with, and nothing will ever change that.”

He looks at you in disbelief, as if he can't quite comprehend how you could love him so unconditionally. "How can you be so sure?"

"Because I see you," you reply. "Beyond the surface, beyond the changes, I see who you are—the kindness, the strength, the love that has always been a part of you. And that's something that remains unchanged, no matter what."

He exhales softly, his features softening as he absorbs your words. But you aren’t finished, not until he realizes how worthy of love he is.

“You’re still the man who loves silly magic tricks, you’re still the man who asks for jello every time we have dessert,” you tease, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of your lips. He cracks a small smile at your playful words. “You’re still the man who loves books, who loves learning. You're still the man who loves helping other people.”

You lean closer, your breath mingling with his as your lips almost touch.

“And I’ll be the one to love every version of you,” you whisper. “The person you were, the person you are, and the person you're becoming.”

He grips your hips and pulls you closer. Without a word, you understand what he needs, what he's asking for, and you close the distance between you, your lips brushing against his.

You never truly understand the meaning of bittersweet until this very moment. His tears carry the saltiness of sorrow, but his lips offer a sweetness that lingers on your tongue. You feel the weight of his pain, the heaviness of his grief, yet you also sense a comforting warmth in the way his lips move gently against yours.

You can feel his uncertainty, and it’s clear that getting back into his old routine won't be easy after everything he's been through. But you’re here for him and you're willing to support him in any way you can.

Because he’s back. Your boyfriend is back. You can hardly believe you get to hug him, kiss him, and run your fingers through his thick, beautiful hair once more. You can’t believe you get to hold him again in your arms, and you hope to do so for a very long time.

[winxanity-ii]

FIRST, TASTE [1/2]

ship: incubus!gojo x fem!virgin!reader warnings: nsfw 🔞 (oral sex/f. receiving; handjob/m. recieving; coercion/dub-con?) word count: 9.9k (long one babes, y'all know i gosta worldbuild/have a lil plot, lololol) a/n: Y'all, I can't believe I actually wrote this, i just wanted to try my hand at KINKtober😭; anywho, the idea of summoning an incubus just to get experience hit different and I HAD to do it. Anyways, enjoy this sinful lil one-shot. 'Know No Evil' update coming soon, probably on my birthday (Oct. 9) if I stay on schedule 👀…Prt. 2: 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃, 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐄

★·.·´🇯‌🇺‌🇯‌🇺‌🇹‌🇸‌🇺‌ 🇰‌🇦‌🇮‌🇸‌🇪‌🇳‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

"Stupid. Stupid. Stupid," you muttered, pacing frantically around your small dorm room. "How can you be this stupid?"

For the last half-hour, you'd been running back and forth like you were stuck in a sitcom montage, trying to prepare your space for your tutor session with Fushiguro Megumi.

And now, of course, he was almost here.

Usually, you weren't this disorganized.

The plan had been to clean and review notes way ahead of time, but somewhere between finishing the latest season of Sex Education on Netflix and getting lost in TikTok, the hours had slipped away.

Now, here you were shoving clothes under the bed and tossing old takeout containers into random drawers, hoping to make your room at least look like you had it together.

"Perfect, he'll show up and think I'm living in a trash heap," you grumbled, snatching up a pair of socks from under a pile of textbooks.

But there wasn't time to wallow; you needed to—

A knock echoed from the front door.

"Shit," you whispered, shoving random items under your bed as fast as you could. "I got it!" you called out, bolting towards the door, hoping to beat your roommate.

The last thing you needed was her making things awkward with whatever bizarre commentary she'd throw at the poor guy—

"Who's this?" Kugisaki Nobara's voice rang out from the hallway, her tone curious yet condescending.

You cursed under your breath, knowing what was coming. Great.

You made it down just in time to see Nobara standing by the door, hands on her hips as she sized up the person on the other side. The moment her eyes landed on Megumi, her lips twisted down in obvious distaste.

Megumi was standing on the other end of the door, wearing his usual bored expression, a dark hoodie thrown over his usual lazy attire of jeans and boots. His hair was messier than usual, sticking up in all directions like he hadn't even bothered with it.

"Ew... it's you," she said flatly, shooting him a withering look. "____, your teacher for dummies is here!" she called out, turning on her heel and walking away with an exaggerated flick of her hair.

You groaned under your breath, rubbing your temples in frustration. Why is she like this?

"Megumi! Hi," you said, trying not to sound too flustered as you opened the door wider for him. "Come on in."

"Hi," he muttered, stepping inside as if he were doing you a favor.

You flashed an awkward smile. "Sorry, about Nobara," you muttered, sending Megumi an apologetic look as you opened the door wider for him. "She's, uh... she's like that with everyone."

Megumi didn't seem fazed in the slightest. "I believe you," he replied dryly, stepping inside as if nothing had happened. He slipped off his shoes and tossed his backpack on the floor without so much as a second glance toward Nobara's retreating figure.

You sighed, closing the door behind him. "I swear, she's really not that bad once you get to know her."

He raised an eyebrow, the faintest trace of a smirk tugging at his lips. "Sure."

You couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or if he just genuinely didn't care, but either way, you quickly changed the subject. "Let's get started," you said, leading him into your room, still feeling embarrassed by Nobara's less-than-friendly greeting.

Megumi didn't say much as he followed you, but he didn't have to. You'd known him long enough by now to recognize the tiny shifts in his expression. The raised eyebrow when he took in the state of the living room, the slight tilt of his head as he glanced at the bookshelves.

He was the type to quietly observe everything, and that somehow made you even more nervous.

You'd met Megumi in your first semester—by accident, really. He'd been the quiet guy who sat in the back of your chemistry class, always scribbling in his notebook but never talking to anyone.

When you got paired with him for a group project, you'd been terrified. The guy barely looked up when you introduced yourself, just grunted in response.

But over time, you found out he wasn't actually that bad. He had a sharp mind for chemistry and a dry, blunt sense of humor that caught you off guard.

And in exchange, you helped him navigate through the old math stuff that somehow came up again in your courses.

Now here you both were again—sophomore year, different majors, but stuck in the same required math class.

"Here we are," you said, gesturing to your bedroom door. You pushed it open and stepped aside to let him in first, already regretting the chaos you'd left in the room.

"Sorry about the mess," you muttered, nudging a stray bra under the bed with your foot as you walked in after him.

The faint scent of strawberries hung in the air, thanks to a candle you'd lit earlier in a desperate attempt to make the place feel less like a disaster zone.

Megumi barely glanced at the mess. "It's fine," he said, dropping his backpack onto your bed without a second thought.

You grabbed your notebook and the textbook, settling down at the small desk near the window. "Alright, let's get started."

"—and that's how you factor a quadratic expression," you finished, circling the final answer on the page with a satisfied hum.

Megumi leaned over, his eyes scanning the paper in that same quiet, intense way he always did. He was so focused it was almost intimidating.

You'd never quite gotten used to how he could make silence feel so heavy.

He nodded slightly, jotting down some notes in his notebook, but his eyes flicked back to you. You couldn't tell if he was impressed or just silently judging you.

"You're good at this stuff," he muttered, leaning back slightly.

You laughed a little, shrugging. "Heh. I guess. It's easier to explain than to actually do it myself sometimes."

"You're a better teacher than some of our professors," he added, which you weren't sure if that was praise or another dig at the fact that your school's faculty left a lot to be desired.

You glanced at the clock on your bedside table, noticing there were still about fifteen minutes left in your session. "We've still got a little time left. If you want, we can go over anything you didn't quite get—"

"Can I ask you something?" Megumi cut you off, his tone casual, but there was something behind it that made you pause.

"Uh, sure," you said, expecting a question about math or maybe something random about chemistry.

Instead, he asked, "Are you a virgin?"

The room fell silent. You stared at him, completely thrown off, and nearly choked on your own breath. "I—what?"

He tilted his head, like you hadn't heard him. "Are you a virgin?" he repeated, slower this time, as if asking for clarification.

Your face immediately went hot, and you sputtered, "W-Why the hell would you ask something like that?"

He leaned back slightly, his lips curling into the faintest smirk. "Just curious."

You crossed your arms defensively, feeling your heart race. "That's none of your business."

Megumi's gaze stayed on you, unbothered by your reaction. "Okay."

"Okay?" you repeated, narrowing your eyes. "What the hell does that even mean?"

His smirk widened a bit, and his voice dropped a little lower. "You mentioned Suguru earlier, right?"

Your stomach flipped at the mention of Geto Suguru, the subject of your daydreams; also known as the senior you shared an etymology class with your second semester last year.

He was... a lot.

Tall, handsome, intimidating, and way too charismatic for his own good; he had this effortless air about him that made you wonder why someone like him would even notice someone like you.

He was the kind of guy who made you nervous just by being in the room. But he was always hanging around Megumi, too, which only made things more confusing.

"Yeah, so?" you replied, trying not to sound as flustered as you felt. "What about him?"

Megumi leaned back on his hands, clearly enjoying your discomfort. "He'd probably be interested in your answer."

Your face went red. "What? Why would Suguru care if I'm—wait, did he... ask about me?"

Megumi's smirk turned into a full grin now, and he shrugged. "Maybe."

Your mind was racing. Why the hell would Suguru, of all people, ask anything about you? You were barely on his radar as far as you knew.

He was always surrounded by people—other seniors, girls who were way more confident and put together than you.

You fidgeted with your hands, trying to keep your voice steady. "Why... why would he care? Did he actually say something?"

Megumi chuckled softly, shaking his head. "You'd have to ask him yourself."

You stared at him, completely at a loss for words, but before you could fire back, he was already packing up his stuff, slipping his notes into his backpack with a lazy sort of ease.

"Thanks for the session," he said, standing up and throwing his bag over his shoulder. "Let me know if you need help with chemistry."

And with that, he was gone, leaving you sitting on your bed, still trying to wrap your head around what the hell had just happened. What the hell did Geto want with you? And why did Megumi look so smug about it?

You flopped back onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling.

"What the hell..."

"Fuck my life..." you mumbled under your breath, dragging your feet as you made your way across campus, your body feeling heavier than usual.

It had been a long day—scratch that, a long week—and you were running on fumes after pulling an all-nighter.

You knew better, but The Sims 4 had you in a chokehold last night, and before you knew it, it was 4AM., and your empire of perfectly crafted Sims families was more put together than your real life, and now you were paying the price.

Your last class of the day had been a blur, and you almost skipped it entirely. But the guilt of missing two classes earlier in the week pushed you out of bed at the last possible minute.

Now, with your bag full of heavy textbooks and your brain fried from back-to-back lectures, all you wanted to do was collapse.

You squinted against the afternoon sun as you approached the large fountain in the middle of campus. The sound of rushing water was soothing, but it did little to ease the pounding headache forming behind your eyes.

You weren't even halfway there when you spotted your roommate, Nobara, lounging on the fountain's edge, tapping away at her phone.

Her bright orange hair was styled in its usual sharp bob, and even from a distance, you could see the unmistakable confidence in the way she carried herself.

Nobara was nothing if not bold—always dressed to the nines, even for something as casual as sitting by the fountain; her outfit—ripped skinny jeans, a cropped leather jacket, and combat boots—screamed effortless cool.

By the time you reached her, you were practically dragging your feet.

Nobara glanced up from her phone and raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a smirk. "You look like shit," she said bluntly, without skipping a beat, holding out her coffee cup.

You didn't even hesitate, reaching for the cup with a grateful nod. "Thanks, I spent all morning on it..." you mumbled, taking a long sip of the lukewarm coffee. The caffeine was probably your only hope of making it through the rest of the evening.

Nobara's eyes flicked over your disheveled appearance—your baggy hoodie with matching swats, the dark circles under your eyes, and the way your hair was barely stuffed inside a silk bonnet. She chuckled, shaking her head. "Late night?"

You nodded, swallowing another sip of coffee. "Pulled an all-nighter... Sims 4."

"Gods," she muttered, rolling her eyes. "You really need to get a life outside of video games."

You shot her a half-hearted glare. "You try building a perfect six-story mansion with an indoor pool and jacuzzi, okay? It's not as easy as it looks."

She snorted. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Anyway, I'm heading out to a party later," she said, flipping her phone in her hand with a casual air. "Frat thing. You coming?"

You groaned at the thought of a loud, crowded frat party. "I don't know; I've got a ton of studying to do," you said, even though you knew that was only half-true. You mostly just wanted to crawl into bed and zone out for a few hours.

Nobara didn't let you off that easy. She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "Suguru going to be there."

You paused, trying not to let your face show too much interest, but the mention of Suguru was enough to make your pulse quicken.

"I—" You waved her off, trying to keep your cool. "I really should study. Plus, it's not like he even knows I exist."

Nobara scoffed. "Please. He totally knows. You've tutored Megumi, right? I'm sure they talk."

You felt a blush creep up your neck. "That's not the same thing," you said, finishing the last sip of her coffee and handing the empty cup back.

"Suit yourself," Nobara said with a shrug brushing invisible dust off her shirt. "But you're missing out. I heard he's single again, you know."

Just as you were about to reply, something—or rather, someone—caught your eye. Like a prairie dog sensing danger, you shot up straight, heart skipping a beat as you spotted a familiar figure in the distance.

It was Suguru.

Your breath hitched as you took in the sight of him. His long dark hair was tied back into a neat man bun, showcasing his sharp jawline and the broad expanse of his shoulders under a fitted black shirt.

He had this effortless cool about him that made you want to stare—but then again, everyone did. He was the kind of guy who turned heads without trying, and right now, he looked annoyingly handsome as usual.

Panicking, you ducked behind a nearby group of walking students, trying to hide your figure as if Suguru could sense you from all the way across campus.

Nobara sucked her teeth, clearly unimpressed with your theatrics. "Seriously?" she muttered, shaking her head. "You are so childish."

Before you could stop her, Nobara stood up, waving her arm in the air like a flag to catch his attention.

"No!" you whispered harshly, nearly choking on the last bit of coffee as you grabbed her arm and tried to drag her back down. "Stop drawing attention!"

Too late.

A shadow fell over you, blocking the sun, and you looked up, heart hammering in your chest. Standing above you was none other than Suguru, his lips curled into a faint smile as he took in the scene.

"Hey, Nobara," he said smoothly, his voice deep and almost teasing. His dark eyes flickered to you, and your entire body went rigid. "____, right?"

Your heart skipped several beats, your breath catching in your throat as you scrambled to respond. "Y-Yes!" you squeaked out, your voice way too high for your liking. Your face felt like it was on fire, and you were sure your face was hot enough to cook an egg on.

Nobara snorted beside you, shaking her head as she muttered under her breath. "Simp," she said, barely loud enough for you to hear, though Suguru didn't seem to catch it.

You glared at her, silently willing her to shut up and stop making things more awkward, but of course, she wasn't about to let you off the hook that easily.

Instead of making small talk or letting the moment pass, Nobara turned to Suguru, crossing her arms with a mischievous grin. "Hey, Suguru. My friend here thinks you're hot and wants to fuck."

Your jaw dropped, and for a second, you were sure your soul left your body. "What?!"

Nobara flashed you a wicked grin before air-kissing you goodbye and casually tossing over her shoulder, "See you at the party later, Suguru!"

And just like that, she strutted off, leaving you sitting there wide-eyed and horrified.

A smooth chuckle broke through your panic, pulling you back to reality. You turned slowly, only to find Suguru standing there, hands tucked into his pockets, looking down at you with an amused tilt of his head.

"So... fuck, huh?" he teased, his voice warm and smooth like honey.

You stammered, trying to form any coherent response, but all that came out were mumbled syllables. Your brain was short-circuiting, your face burning hotter with every passing second.

Finally, you gave up and buried your face in your hands, turning your back to him in pure embarrassment.

Suguru let out another chuckle, taking a few steps closer until his tall frame was towering over you. "You're cute," he said softly, reaching down and gently patting your head. The simple action made your entire brain spiral into chaos, and before you knew it, you were already mentally planning your wedding, picking out baby names, and deciding where you'd honeymoon.

But then Suguru's voice cut through your delusions.

"I'm flattered, really," he said, his tone a little more serious now. "But I've got this rule about not dating freshmen."

You blinked, looking up at him in confusion, the fantasy bubble bursting in an instant. "W-What?"

Suguru shifted awkwardly, running a hand through his hair as he glanced to the side. "I mean, it's not that I'm some international playboy or anything," he said, hesitantly but sure of himself. "I'm just... not really looking to settle down. So I try to keeps things simple by steering clear of freshmen. Because... ya know, it's thier first timers for a lot of things."

You pouted, a bit confused by what he meant. But than, realization dawned and you felt your heart shatter. He thought you were a freshman... and that was why he wouldn't be interested in you.

Even then, your heart leaped for a split second before reality set in again. Though you weren't a freshman, you were still a virgin. So technically his rule applied to you as well.

A soft "Why?" slipped from your lips before you could stop yourself. You were so focused on the fact that you were losing your chance that you didn't even think to correct him.

Suguru sighed, his expression softening. "It's just... I don't want to be the guy who takes that kind of experience from someone, you know? I prefer if the people I'm with have already been through that, so there's no pressure." His voice was calm, almost gentle, as if he was trying to explain something important without hurting your feelings. "It's not fair to put that on someone who's still figuring things out."

Damn, even his explanation was surprisingly sweet.

You couldn't help but appreciate how thoughtful it was. But that didn't stop the disappointment from settling in your chest like a heavy weight. You didn't know what to say—what could you say?

Taking your silence as sadness, Suguru bent down slightly, his face closer to yours, and gave you another light pat on the head, a teasing smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "You know... you're cute enough that I might just break that rule." He winked, and with one last chuckle, he turned on his heel and walked off, leaving you sitting there, completely dazed.

You sat frozen, unable to do anything but replay his words in your head, even as the mortification continued to burn at your core. "What the fuck..."

A few hours later, you found yourself on your phone, mindlessly scrolling through his Instagram profile, looking at his pictures. "He's so handsome," you sighed. You stared at the 'follow' button, your finger hovering over it.

Hyping yourself up, you quickly pressed the follow button before throwing your phone down. "Okay, there, first step down," you muttered to yourself.

Your thoughts kept circling back to Suguru's words. He thought you were a freshman, but even if he knew you weren't, it wouldn't change anything.

You were still inexperienced.

You let out a groan, rubbing your temples as frustration began to mount. Gods, what would Nobara do? you thought to yourself before shaking your head with a scoff.

Nobara wouldn't even be in this mess... still.

Without much thought, you opened laptop, typing into the search bar: 'How can I gain sexual experience without having sex?' Hundreds of articles popped up at once. Your eyes skimmed through the list.

[Self-love] ~ Tips on how masturbating can get you ready for sex

No.

[PornHub] ~ Virgin girl indulges in sex for the first time

No.

[First-Timers] ~ Website for virgins who are looking for companions

No.

[Phone-Sex] ~ Let your wildest fantasies come to life

No. No. NO.

You dropped your head into your hands, groaning, "This is useless."

Just as you went to click off the tab, something caught your eye.

'Want to gain sexual experience without actually having sex? Click here to join a forum that shows exactly how it can be accomplished!'

You leaned forward, interested. "Hello..." you hummed out loud, about to click the link. You narrowed your eyes at the link, not fully sure if you should trust it or not. With pursed lips, you weighed the pros and cons of the situation.

On one hand, if you clicked on it, it could take you somewhere that might actually help with your current predicament.

But on the other hand, if you didn't, you'd be right back to square one, knowing nothing.

Though, if you did click it, there was a chance you'd end up with a virus—something that would be a real pain to get fixed. "Eh, the school's got multiple computer labs," you shrugged.

With your mind made up, you clicked on the link. You crossed your fingers and prayed to whatever gods above that the website wouldn't give you a virus.

As you scrolled through the page, you came across dozens of supernatural-esque things like shifting, astral projection, spells, etc.

One would think you'd scroll past these because they sounded ridiculous, but the truth was...

"Ugghhh, why does all this shit take weeks to accomplish!?"

...you were very impatient.

Now, you could be patient for a lot of things, but this!? You couldn't risk it. Not when the only factor in your way of being with Suguru was your lack of experience—the full kind.

Not shy kisses in the corner, the short relationships that never lasted once they realized you didn't put out so soon, the disastrous first time performing third base—a memory you would shackle to the depths of your soul if you could.

A bright flash of a blue fire gif caught your eye breaking you out of your growing frenzy.

'Welcome to Infernium,' the post read, with a subtitle that said, "Harness the Power of Lust, Control Your Desires." The page description underneath it was almost like an introduction. It began with: "When I first wanted to experience sex, I just summoned a succubus..."

You skimmed down the post, reading about how Infernium was a different plane of the Abyssum—a shadowy, otherworldly realm that resembled Hell. It was a place where demons thrived by feeding on the raw, intangible energy that fueled human desires and emotions. They didn't outright steal your soul or kill you, but every encounter took a piece of your essence—leaving you feeling just a bit emptier each time.

It was subtle, like losing fragments of yourself—small enough to be overlooked but accumulating with every visit, a price that was insidious and ever-present.

Buuuut...

Instead of reading all of that thoroughly, you scrolled down to the comments section.

As expected, there was a mixture of disbelief, trolls, and snarky remarks. But the further you went, the more positive reviews you found. Some were so detailed that they seemed like fanfics or book excerpts, but something in your gut told you this could be real.

You got lost reading those comments, short anecdotes of people describing their experiences with different succubi and incubi.

Honestly, thought this was BS, but turns out it was one of the wildest nights of my life—didn't even need a safe word, 'cause this dude knew exactly what he was doing. - DarkDreamer99

Mine had pink eyes! Super freaky at first but, not gonna lie, 10/10. - PinkObsession

Listen, if you've never experienced this, you're missing out. Seriously. Just follow the steps, and don't skip anything. - LustfulWanderer

And then you found it—the gold mine. A comment by someone named Sinner_69. They detailed a step-by-step guide on how to do everything, from setting up the ritual to what materials were needed.

Now, common sense said not to go blindly trusting internet comments, but even the author of the post had replied, thanking Sinner_69 and reviewing their method with raging approval.

Your eyes widened, and you blinked at the comment, not sure if you should laugh or close the window. Curiosity got the better of you, and you kept reading down the list.

"Okay, let's see... a bowl, sage, needle, candles..." you mumbled to yourself, going over the list out loud.

The door to your room opened, and you slammed your laptop shut, looking up to see Nobara.

She was still in the same outfit from earlier but had changed into a shorter crop top that showed off her midriff. "Are you sure you don't want to come to the party?" she asked, giving you one last chance.

You waved her off, "Nah, I'm good."

"Alright, suit yourself," she said with a shrug, heading out the door.

As soon as she left, you reopened the laptop and gave the post one more glance. You muttered, "What the hell?" when you saw that an blood was needed. "Goddammit ____, why do you put yourself through this?" you mumbled out loud, heaving yourself off of your bed and rushing over to put your boots on. "I'm so gonna regret this," you sighed, grabbing your jacket and keys on the way out.

"Okay, let's see here, it says first I need..." you read to yourself, pushing up your reading glasses when you felt them slipping.

Within an hour, you managed to not only gather all the supplies needed for the 'summoning' but also completed the first half of the directions.

Though it took a total of three stores, and several judgmental looks from the cashier when buying the demon wards from the Halloween store, you could say it was a success.

Now, you sat in the middle of the circle, allowing the smells of the incense to calm you down. The window in your bedroom was cracked open, letting the warm night breeze filter in. It carried with it the gentle rustle of leaves from outside, and the occasional distant hum of passing cars.

The soft movement of air made the candle flames flicker slightly, casting shifting shadows across the walls. The atmosphere was both soothing and unnerving, as if the room itself held its breath, waiting.

With your eyes closed, you began to chant the words found on the post.

"I, L/N  ____, pledge to give myself to the powers of the other side in order to fulfill my desires," you said, your voice loud and steady as you recalled the article stating that the spirits would only listen to those who were willing to give up their all, "my desire is to be presented with an entity that will ensure not only a gain in sexual knowledge as a virgin, but give me confidence to pursue an individual that has currently caught my eye."

After a few seconds of silence, you moved on to the next step. With a deep breath, you began the incantations, "Daemonium de desiderio. Dolores inferni circumdederunt me gratia tua." Your voice remained steady as you repeated this three times. You took another deep breath, trying to keep yourself calm. "It's now or never, ____," you told yourself, remembering the next step of the ritual. "You've come this far to chicken out now."

The candlelight flickered slightly, and you shivered, feeling a chill run through your body. "Just relax, ____, just make a little prick, no biggie," you muttered, gripping the needle tightly between your trembling fingers as you held your hand over the wooden bowl filled with a mixture of herbs and other ingredients. The dim glow of the candles reflected off the small needle in your hand.

Taking a deep breath, you placed the tip of the needle against your thumb, mumbling to yourself, "Just a little prick, just a little prick..." over and over. But the moment the sharp point touched your skin, panic set in.

The thought of pain—no matter how minor—made your stomach twist. You hated unnecessary pain, always had. Even the idea of a small cut was enough to make you wince.

Your hands began to tremble more, and tears of frustration welled up in your eyes. "I can't do it!" you cried, dropping the needle as your voice cracked. You shivered, your entire body tensing up in fear, unable to go through with the procedure. You sighed deeply, slouching forward, rubbing a hand down your face. "Gods, what's wrong with me," you muttered with a strained laugh, staring at the materials and the open laptop in front of you.

With a sigh, you reached over and shut the laptop, leaning back and preparing yourself for a mini-sad pity party. It felt ridiculous—summoning an incubus, just to fail because you couldn't handle a little pain. You shook your head, a self-deprecating smile tugging at your lips.

"Ow!" you suddenly yelped, yanking your hand up. You looked down to find the needle had somehow lodged itself between your thumb and index finger. Your eyes widened, a frown tugging at your lips.

You carefully pulled it out, wincing slightly at the sting before dropping it once more, not noticing as it fell directly into the wooden bowl below.

"Of course," you muttered under your breath, standing up as you sucked on the small wound. You walked towards the bathroom, looking for a band-aid, completely oblivious to what was happening behind you.

Unbeknownst to you, the mixture in the bowl began to bubble slightly, the herbs slowly dissolving as the blood mixed in with the ingredients. The candles flickered again, their flames stretching upwards as if reaching for something.

A strange energy began to fill the room, the air becoming heavy, almost electric. The curtains of your window began to flutter, almost as if someone had crept inside the confines of your room.

"Oh, come on," you groaned as you rummaged through the cabinets, coming up empty-handed. With a sigh, you gave up, shaking your head as you left the bathroom.

As soon as you returned to your room, every single candle surrounding you suddenly went out at once, as if someone had blown them out like birthday candles.

Your eyes snapped open, fear beginning to grow within you as you realized you were suspended in darkness.

This wasn't the typical darkness you were used to—it felt heavier, more inky, like it was swallowing up every ounce of light. The only light you were gifted with was from the moon outside your window, its dim rays barely illuminating the layout of your room.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. Timidly, you felt your way over to your bedside table, fingers fumbling as you reached to flick on the lamp.

You pressed the switch—once, twice—but nothing happened. Panic began to build inside you, your mind racing as you desperately tried to make sense of the situation.

Pulling out your phone, you quickly checked for any notifications. A message from the RA popped up in the group chat: "Heads up everyone, the power will be on and off tonight due to maintenance fixing the breaker. Will keep y'all updated." You sighed, your fingers trembling slightly as you lowered your phone. "Great timing," you muttered under your breath.

Determined not to let the eerie atmosphere get the best of you, you reached into your bedside drawer, searching for your lighter to relight the candles for light. Your fingers brushed against the cold metal, and you pulled it out, flicking it on with shaky hands.

The small flame flickered to life, casting a warm glow that provided you with a bit of comfort, even if it wasn't much.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves as you glanced around the darkened room. Something felt off—the air was thick, charged, and you couldn't shake the feeling that you weren't alone.

Walking back over to one of the candles, you flicked it on, ready to light the candles back up, thinking that the wind from outside might have blown them out. Leaning forward to the first candle, you flinched when you heard a thump from somewhere behind you.

You swiveled your head left and right, trying to see if you could find what caused the noise.

At once, all the hairs on the back of your neck stood up as the temperature of the room dropped. "...____..." A voice suddenly whispered out your name, the sound echoing as if someone was shouting in the distance.

You could feel your heart thrumming dangerously within your chest.

"...____..." It sounded breathless, somewhat taunting as it bounced around the room.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt a chill sweep throughout your body. It felt as if someone was sitting before you, blowing air into your face.

You squeezed your right hand, hoping that the pain would help anchor you amidst your whirling emotions, but it did nothing as your fear raged on like a fire scorching away.

With clenched eyes, you began to mumble soft hymns to yourself, "Jesus l-loves me, yes I know, f-for the Bible tells me so..." The tune was shaky as it left your trembling lips.

"Okay, breathe, ____, this is not real, it is only my imagination," you told yourself, repeating the sentence over and over again like a mantra. You felt your breathing calm down with the words, your shoulders relaxing as you began to believe in what you said. "See, it was just all in your head—"

You stopped breathing when you felt warm breath ghost over the side of your face, a pair of soft lips grazing the top of your ear.

"Aww," the voice teased, the tone dripping with mockery. "Did you really think a few little hymns would protect you? How precious..."

A blood-curdling scream exited your mouth just as the lights flickered on. You stumbled back, your heart pounding painfully against your ribcage. The lighter dropped from your hand, clattering to the floor as your wide eyes darted around the room.

Nothing. There was no one there.

The candles remained unlit, the curtains still, and the air seemed to have returned to its normal temperature.

But you knew—you knew—that you hadn't imagined it. Your skin still tingled from the feeling of those lips against your ear, and the echo of that mocking voice still reverberated in your mind.

Your eyes flicked to the bowl on the floor, the once-glowing mixture now dark and still. You backed up, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps as you tried to process what had just happened. "This can't be real," you whispered, your voice shaking. "This isn't happening."

Instead of hitting the wall, your back collided with something else—something firm and warm. Panic surged through you, and before you could react, a familiar voice drawled behind you, "You humans are so weird..."

You felt hands trail down your back, their touch sending a shiver through you as they moved down your arms before wrapping around your waist in a firm grip. The sensation wasn't just hands; it was claws, sharp yet careful, grazing your skin as if savoring every tremble you made. "...You wish for something, yet when it's in front of you, you deny it, run from it... How amusing."

Your breath felt trapped in your throat, your heart pounding wildly. Slowly, against every instinct in your body screaming at you to run, you turned around. The grip on your waist loosened slightly, allowing you to face whatever was behind you.

Your heart skipped a beat, your eyes widening as you took in the sight before you. He was tall—taller than any man you'd ever seen.

His hair was a stark, snowy white, almost glowing in the dim light of your room, and his eyes were an intense, piercing blue that seemed to look right through you. His chest was bare, revealing perfectly sculpted muscles, each defined line standing out under his honey-tan skin.

He was also wearing short silk boxers that stopped mid-thigh, the fabric clinging loosely to his form. The warmth of his skin contrasted with the sharpness of his presence, making him appear almost otherworldly.

But what truly caught your attention were the small, curled horns protruding from his head and the long, winding tail that lazily whipped behind him.

Your mouth opened and closed several times, but no words came out.

The incubus smirked, bending at the waist and bringing up a clawed hand. He used a single finger to gently scratch under your chin, then closed your mouth for you. "What's the matter... devil got your tongue?" he taunted, his voice laced with amusement.

You took a staggering step back, your heart racing. Finally, you managed to find your voice, though it was shaky. "I-It worked," you stammered, unable to keep the surprise from your voice. "You... you actually came."

The incubus grinned, stepping over the wooden bowl and chalk lines as if they meant nothing. He moved with a confidence that was both captivating and terrifying, his gaze never leaving you. "Of course I did. How could I resist such an earnest little summoning?"

You swallowed hard, your mind racing. He was here. An actual incubus was in your room, and the realization hit you like a ton of bricks.

This was real. You had actually done it.

The demon's eyes trailed over your form, taking in the sight of your tank-top and short sleeping shorts. His voice came out low and teasing, his head tilting slightly as he spoke. "So, you're the one who wants to gain some experience, huh?" he said, his voice dripping with amusement as he took a step closer.

You felt your face heat up, your cheeks burning at his words. In that moment, you forgot entirely why you had even done this whole ritual—caught up in the fact that it had actually worked. "I-I mean, I just..." you stammered, your words trailing off as you felt awkward under his intense gaze.

The demon took another step closer, towering over you. He let out a soft, almost mocking coo at your embarrassment. "Aw, don't be shy. You summoned me for a reason, didn't you?"

You nodded, barely able to meet his gaze. Your heart was pounding so loudly in your ears that it drowned out everything else. He reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek, and you jumped slightly at the contact, your eyes snapping back to his.

"Relax," he murmured, his thumb gently stroking your skin. "I'm not gonna bite... unless you want me to." His smirk widened, his eyes glinting with mischief.

Your breath hitched, and you felt your entire body tense. He was so close, his presence overwhelming, and you could feel the heat radiating off of him. You swallowed, trying to steady your breathing, but it was impossible with him looking at you like that—with those eyes that seemed to see right through you.

The incubus's hand slid from your cheek down to your chin, tilting your head up so that you had no choice but to look at him. "You said you wanted to learn, right?" he whispered, his lips just inches from yours. "I can teach you... everything you want to know."

Just as he leaned down, about to press his lips against yours, you suddenly found your voice, stuttering out, "W-Wait!" You pushed past him, your hands trembling as you put space between the two of you.

You held up a shaky hand, trying to steady your breath. "Just... just give me a second, okay?" you said, your voice still trembling. You needed time to think—to understand what was happening, to process this overwhelming presence.

The incubus sighed, a sound that was almost a groan of frustration. His eyes narrowed slightly, and he crossed his arms over his bare chest. "You don't understand, sweetheart," he said, his voice laced with impatience. "I can't leave until our bargain is complete. You summoned me for a reason—until you lose your virginity, until we complete what you called me here for, I am bound to you."

Your eyes widened, and you swallowed nervously. "I... I know. It's just—" you paused, trying to gather your thoughts. "There's this guy, Suguru. I... I like him, but he doesn't mess with virgins, and I don't know what I'm doing. I thought maybe if I had some experience, I could... I don't know..." You trailed off, your face burning in embarrassment. The words tumbled out in a messy, awkward ramble, and you wished you could just disappear.

The incubus laughed, a low, amused chuckle that made your skin prickle. He slowly began closing the distance between you again, his eyes never leaving yours. "Oh, I see now," he said, a teasing lilt to his voice. "This is all for some boy, huh?"

You took a step back, shaking your head. "It's not like that! I mean, it is, but—" You stumbled over your words, watching as Gojo's smirk grew wider with every stutter.

He took another step forward, and you moved again, trying to keep the space between you. "I—I mean, I don't even know you like that," you stammered, your voice weak as you grasped for any excuse.

He froze, staring down at you as if you had just grown several heads. He raised an eyebrow, his expression caught somewhere between disbelief and amusement. Then, after a moment, he let out an amused scoff. "You don't know me, huh?" He shook his head, his eyes glinting with something wicked. "Fine, you can call me Satoru."

Before you could react, the incubus—Satoru—stalked toward you, his movements smooth and confident. You backed up until you felt the wall press against your back, your heart pounding as he stopped just inches away from you.

His arm came up, his palm resting flat against the wall beside your head, effectively pinning you in place.

"Listen, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice dropping to a sultry whisper. "You wanted to learn, right? Well, you need to learn the basics first. You need to learn how to relax, how to let yourself feel..." His other hand reached out, his fingers brushing against your arm, trailing up to your shoulder. "How to respond to someone's touch."

Your breath caught in your throat, your entire body tensing as his fingers traced along your skin. The heat of his touch was almost too much, your heart racing as his words sank in.

You knew he was right—you had summoned him for this, to learn, to gain experience—but it was so much more overwhelming than you had imagined.

Satoru started speaking again, his voice pulling your attention back to him. He tilted your face up gently, making you meet his eyes as he hummed, "I understand... You're a virgin, after all." He said it softly, almost as if he was comforting you, but there was a teasing edge in his tone that made your cheeks flush even more.

Slowly, he backed away from you, his gaze never leaving yours until he stopped at the edge of your bed. He smirked, a glint of mischief in his eyes as he spoke again. "If you're not ready to start, that's fine. We can start slow... Maybe you could learn the signs of when a man wants you."

You blinked, confusion furrowing your brow. "What do you mean—?" you started to ask, but your tongue went dry in your throat as you watched him. Satoru's blue eyes darkened, his entire presence becoming almost magnetic as he leaned back on your bed, propping himself up on his hands.

His muscles flexed as he settled into the position, his sculpted chest and abs on full display, his honey-tan skin almost glowing in the light. You couldn't help but stare, your eyes following the lines of his body as he showcased himself. Satoru noticed your reaction, his smirk widening, clearly pleased.

"It's not hard to see the signs," he said, his voice smooth as silk as he spread his legs slightly, the movement confident and intentional. His tail whipped behind him lazily, the motion almost hypnotic as he continued speaking. "A man's body will tell you everything you need to know if you pay attention."

Your eyes flicked down, unable to help yourself as Satoru's hands moved slowly over his own skin. He rubbed his chest, his fingers tracing the defined lines of his muscles, before moving down to his thighs. His touch was deliberate, his fingers pressing into the firm muscle, and you could feel your face growing hotter with every passing second.

He let out a soft sigh, his eyes watching you intently as he continued. "The way his body reacts... the way he touches himself... all signs that he wants you." His voice was low, almost a purr, and it made your stomach twist with a mix of nervousness and something else—something that made your skin feel too hot, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps.

Satoru's hand moved lower, and before you could process what was happening, he pulled out his dick, the length thick and impressive as it flopped heavily against his stomach. His eyes never left yours as he did so, watching your every reaction.

Your eyes widened, embarrassment flooding you, but no matter how much you wanted to, you couldn't look away.

Your gaze was fixed on him, your breath catching in your throat as you took in the sight before you—the way it rested against his stomach, the veins prominent along the thick length, pulsing faintly. The pink, flushed tip stood out against the rest, glistening slightly.

The slight sheen of his skin under the dim light made every detail more vivid, and the trail of white hair leading down accentuated his toned muscles.

It was overwhelming, and yet, you were entranced.

He stroked himself slowly, his eyes glinting with amusement as he watched your reaction. "See, sweetheart? It's all about paying attention... learning what a man wants." His voice was a seductive whisper, his gaze holding you captive as he continued.

Satoru's hand moved in steady, deliberate strokes, his eyes never leaving yours. He let out soft groans, each sound making your stomach twist with an unfamiliar mix of nervousness and curiosity. The noise started out as barely audible sighs, but soon turned into deep, breathy pants that filled the room, echoing in your ears.

His gaze was locked on you, his blue eyes darkened with lust as he watched your every reaction—how your eyes widened, how your lips parted slightly, and how you shifted uncomfortably where you stood. His legs were spread out, his body relaxed as he continued to touch himself, his movements growing more purposeful with each passing moment.

He moaned, the sound low and drawn out, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. His hips began to move slightly, rising off the bed in response to his own touch. The veins along his length stood out even more as his hand moved faster, his breaths turning into shallow pants.

Satoru let out a low whimper, his eyes never breaking contact with yours. "____..." he murmured, your name slipping from his lips in a breathy moan that made your entire body tense. You squeezed your thighs together instinctively, trying to ignore the heat that was building inside you.

It was too much—his voice, the way he said your name—it all made you feel things you weren't sure how to handle.

He noticed, of course, his smirk widening as his eyes flicked down to your legs. "Aw, a-are you feeling it too, s-sweetheart?" he teased, his voice barely above a whisper. He let out another groan, his hips stuttering slightly as they lifted off the bed, his hand working faster over himself.

Satoru's movements became more urgent, his body tensing as he continued, his eyes still locked onto yours.

Every noise he made—every groan, every sigh—seemed to echo in your head, making it impossible to think of anything else but him and the way he was looking at you.

Satoru's movements became more urgent, his body tensing as he continued, his eyes still locked onto yours.

Every noise he made—every groan, every sigh—seemed to echo in your head, making it impossible to think of anything else but him and the way he was looking at you.

His eyes flashed a bright electric blue for a split second, and his voice came out husky, filled with need. "Come here," he commanded, and before you could even think, your feet were moving, obeying him.

You found yourself standing right in front of him, close enough that you could see every detail—the way his thighs twitched, the muscles of his stomach flexing, the slick, wet sounds of his hand moving over himself filling the space between you.

You felt yourself growing hotter, the sight of him this close making it impossible to ignore just how affected he was. His breathing was labored, each pant turning into a needy groan. His hips moved steadily, his body following the rhythm of his hand, and then his eyes met yours again. "Touch me," he groaned, the desperation clear in his voice.

You bit your bottom lip, your hands shaking as you slowly reached out. Your fingers brushed against his thigh, and the moment you made contact, Satoru let out a sultry groan, his head falling back, eyes closing briefly.

Encouraged, you let your hands trail up and down his thighs, feeling the strength in the muscles beneath your fingers. His skin was warm, almost hot to the touch, and you couldn't help but be in awe of the power you felt in him.

Satoru let out another groan, his hips stuttering for a moment as if reminding you of what he wanted. Your eyes flicked up, and you saw his head lolled to the side, his right arm tense and trembling as it held him up while his left hand continued to work over himself. He looked undone, his usually confident demeanor replaced with something raw and vulnerable.

You swallowed hard, your eyes flicking down to where your hand rested on his thigh. Slowly, you moved your hand up, caressing his skin until you hesitantly cupped the base of his length. It was hot—almost burning—and you could feel it twitch against your palm, the sensation making your heart pound even harder.

Satoru let out a deep groan, his eyes fluttering open to look at you. "Squeeze," he muttered, his voice rough, and you did as he asked, your fingers wrapping around him. He let out a shaky breath, his hips pushing up into your hand, and he cleared his throat, panting as he looked up at you. "Stroke it... like this," he instructed, guiding your movements. "Every man likes it a bit different, but... just follow my lead."

You nodded, your hand moving awkwardly at first as you tried to mimic his earlier motions. Satoru's gaze never left you, his breaths growing heavier as you found a rhythm.

The heat of him under your touch was almost overwhelming, and you could feel the slickness of his pre-cum as it dribbled down, coating your hand. He let out a low, broken moan, his hips snapping up more frantically, the wet sounds growing louder as you continued.

His entire body seemed to tense, his muscles straining as he came closer to the edge. His abs clenched, his stomach flexing involuntarily with each thrust of his hips. The sounds he made grew louder, more desperate, until finally, with a deep, guttural moan, he came.

His back arched off the bed, his body trembling as his release spilled over, dribbling down his length and hitting your hand. His eyes were squeezed shut, his mouth falling open as he rode out his orgasm, every muscle in his body going taut before slowly relaxing.

The cum dripped down, pooling on his stomach, and you couldn't help but watch, your breath caught in your throat at the sight of him coming apart beneath your touch.

Satoru cracked open an eye, his lips tugging up into a smirk. "Good job," he murmured, his voice still a bit breathless. "You just learned how to give a handjob."

You felt your face flush, a mix of embarrassment and defensiveness bubbling up inside you. "I-I know how one is done," you muttered, trying to hide the awkwardness you felt. "I... I even know what a blowjob is... I've done it before." The words slipped out before you could stop them, and your mind flashed back to your senior prom, shivering in disgust at the memory of your date fumbling and the uncomfortable experience.

It had been horrible—nothing like this.

Satoru's amused hum pulled you back from the terrible memory. He shifted slightly, leaning back comfortably on your bed, his smirk widening as he looked at you. "Is that so?" he asked, clearly intrigued.

Before you could respond, he continued, his tone shifting into something a bit more curious. "Tell me then... Have you ever been eaten out before?"

Your eyes widened, and you let out a startled noise, almost choking on your own breath. "W-What?!" you spluttered, your face heating up even more. "That has nothing to do with learning how to please a man!"

Satoru sat up, his eyes still locked on you. "Of course it does," he said matter-of-factly, his voice dropping to a more serious tone. "Some men get nothing but pleasure from taking care of their partner... Making sure you're enjoying yourself can be the biggest turn-on."

You opened your mouth to disagree, but the words caught in your throat when Satoru reached for your wrist, his fingers wrapping around it gently. He pulled you closer, his touch firm but not forceful, until you were standing directly in front of him. He stared up at you through his lashes, his white hair falling messily across his forehead, and you couldn't help but feel your breath hitch.

"C'mon," he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours. "Ride my face."

You blinked, your mouth opening and closing as you tried to come up with a response. "I-I don't think... I mean, what if I'm too heavy—" you started to say, only for Satoru to cut you off with a scoff.

"Sweetheart, I'm not human," he said, his voice filled with amusement. "You can't hurt me." As if to prove his point, his tail curled around your waist, the firm grip a reminder of his strength and otherworldly nature. "Trust me... I want this."

You looked off to the side, your anxiety bubbling in your chest. After a long moment, you finally gave in, your voice barely above a whisper. "Okay..."

Satoru wasted no time. His hands moved to your shorts, pulling them down swiftly and tossing them somewhere behind him. You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breathing as he guided you over his body, his hands pulling you closer as he lay back down, urging you to crawl over him.

Your knees pressed into the bed on either side of his chest, and you moved awkwardly, your heart pounding as you tried to position yourself above him.

His hands found their place at your waist, the warmth of his touch grounding you as you hovered over his head.

Every inch of your skin felt like it was on fire, and the insecurity you felt only made it worse. You were unsure of what to expect—sure, you'd read smut, you'd watched porn, but it was entirely different when you were actually doing it.

This was real, and you could feel every nerve in your body buzzing with uncertainty.

You avoided looking down, not wanting to meet those electric blue eyes that were staring up at you from between your thighs. You could feel his gaze on you, his intensity almost overwhelming, and it made you feel vulnerable in a way you'd never felt before.

"Are you ready?" Satoru asked, his voice softer now, a hint of something almost reassuring beneath the teasing tone.

You nodded, though your voice betrayed you. "I... I guess," you muttered, your voice shaky and uncertain.

Before you could prepare yourself, Satoru yanked you down onto his mouth, his grip firm as he pulled you against him.

You let out a startled gasp, your hands shooting out to steady yourself as you fell forward slightly, your fingers tangling in his hair. A low groan rumbled from his throat the moment he tasted you, the vibration sending a shiver through your entire body.

His tongue was hot, wet, and the feeling of it against you made your head spin. He traced up and down your slit with a deliberate slowness, each movement of his tongue making your breath hitch.

You could feel the warmth of his mouth, the way his tongue explored every part of you, his lips wrapping around your clit as he sucked gently, then tonguing the sensitive bundle of nerves.

You couldn't help the sounds that slipped from your lips, your entire body trembling as he worked you over. His hands gripped your hips, holding you firmly in place as he continued, the sensation of his tongue moving against you almost too much to handle.

You tried to lift yourself up, to ease the overwhelming pressure building inside of you, but his tail curled around your waist tightened, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.

"S-Satoru." You whined out his name in a broken moan, your hips slowly beginning to grind against his mouth, finding a delicious tempo.

Satoru groaned in response, the sound vibrating against you, sending another wave of pleasure through your body. His tongue moved with a deliberate slowness, almost teasing in the way it licked over you. It felt strange—soft yet firm, the texture unfamiliar but intoxicating.

A stuttered gasp left your lips as his tongue began to press into your entrance, the hot, wet sensation making your thighs tremble.

You couldn't control your movements anymore, your hips rocking against his face, chasing the pleasure that was building inside of you. Each flick of his tongue, each graze of his lips against your sensitive skin made your breath hitch, your fingers gripping tightly onto his hair as you lost yourself in the feeling.

Satoru's grip on your hips tightened, guiding you, encouraging you to keep going, his muffled groans only spurring you on further.

Your legs trembled, your movements growing more frantic as the pressure built higher and higher, the knot in your stomach tightening until it was almost unbearable. You could feel yourself teetering on the edge, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps as you rode his face, your entire body tensing.

And then, finally, it snapped. A wave of pleasure crashed over you, your body shuddering as you came, your head thrown back, eyes squeezing shut as your hips stuttered against his mouth.

You could feel Satoru groaning against you, his tongue still moving, drawing out every last bit of pleasure as your body trembled above him.

Your legs felt like they could barely hold you up as you moved off of Satoru, collapsing next to him on the bed, panting heavily. Your entire body felt boneless, the aftershocks of your release still making your muscles twitch.

You glanced over at Satoru, your cheeks flushing as you took in the sight of him—his face slick with your juices, his eyes half-lidded and satisfied.

Satoru stretched like a cat, his body arching as he let out a contented sigh, looking entirely too pleased with himself. He sat up slowly, his gaze flicking to you as he used his thumb to swipe over his bottom lip before sucking on it, his eyes never leaving yours.

He moved closer, crawling over to you with a lazy grin on his face. "So," he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "Were you satisfied?"

You nodded, your cheeks still flushed. "Y-Yeah..." you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Satoru's hand reached up, his fingers brushing against your neck before cupping your face gently. He hummed, his eyes studying your expression. "You know," he said, his tone almost thoughtful, "technically, I've completed our deal." He smirked, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. "You didn't specify what kind of sex... only that you wanted experience, confidence. And I'd say teaching you this definitely counts."

His eyes darkened slightly, the teasing glint in them replaced with something more intense. His thumb traced along your lip, his gaze locked onto yours. "But I have to say," he murmured, his voice dropping lower, "I really enjoyed this..."

He leaned in closer, his lips just barely brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Don't worry, sweetheart... I'll be back. After all, you're still a virgin."

With that, he pulled away, a wicked smirk playing on his lips. His body seemed to dissolve into black smoke, the dark tendrils swirling around him before disappearing completely, leaving you alone in the dimly lit room, your heart still pounding in your chest.

You flopped back onto your bed, releasing a satisfied sigh. "Well, that escalated quickly..."

Your phone pinged. Reaching for it, you turned it on, eyes widening at the notification.

Geto Suguru now follows you.

"Well, shit..."

A/N: ahhhh, not me getting into the halloween spirit 💀 hope you guys enjoy this just as much as i enjoyed writing it...

[snowballseal]

hihi! i was curious if you would be willing to do a drabble inspired by the sleepy affection with sylus piece, but with out good dr zayne? i feel like sleepy cuddles with him would be so comforting... regardless, thank you sm for sharing your writing!! every piece you've posted has always brought a smile to my face (kicking my feet all happily too) even for characters i'm not as interested in :)

Sleepy Affection ~ Zayne

Summary: It's winter, and there's nothing like cuddling with your sleepy doctor after you've both had a long day (or a long few days in Zayne's case).

Word Count: 1014

Note: I'm honestly so whipped for this man. Like, I'm so soft for him. And he's so soft for reader. This man would turn into a cuddly cat when he's tired, kinda like the misty invasion card (*eyes emoji*)

Hope you enjoy! Thank you for the request! And thank you for your really kind words. I'm glad my writing can make people happy.

---

Winters in Linkon are your favorite.

There’s something about the snow, the crisp chill in the air, the smell of peppermint drifting from the coffee shops. Every store is draped in twinkle lights and each street rings with the song of bells as people come and go. The kids seem somehow more feral and delightful, running through the parks in their brightly colored scarves, building snowmen wherever they can. Being a hunter, you’re drawn into more than a few snowball fights by groups of eager children who want to see your “fighting skills”.

But your favorite part about winters are the sleepy evenings. It’s the feeling of getting home after a long day, a deep chill in your bones alongside the exhaustion, ready to curl up in your blankets with a cup of hot cocoa and a movie. There’s nothing else like it.

And what makes it even better?

When your boyfriend joins you after his even longer shift.

Your apartment is quiet except for the playful soundtrack of ‘Elf’ humming in the background. You snuggle deeper into the couch, eyes glued to the window beside you, watching the thick snowflakes dance with the wind. They look like little ballerinas to your tired eyes, pirouetting round and round and round. Hypnotizingly graceful.

The front door opens with a muted click.

Lazily, you tear your gaze away from the window. You do your best to glance over the back of the couch, your cheek pressing into the cushion, too comfortable to move, eyes half-lidded with sleep.

Your heart flutters at the sight in front of you though. Zayne stands in the foyer, pulling off his many layers of warm clothes with a startling lack of grace. Snow clings to his dark hair and coat, falling to the ground with each of his sluggish movements. The doctor looks tired. His eyes meet yours, dark and warm, hooded just like your own.

You lift the edge of your blankets. A silent invitation.

Zayne trudges across the living room, his steps uncharacteristically heavy. He takes off his glasses and leaves them on the table behind the couch. You smother a giggle when he practically collapses against you. It’s like having a large cat curl around you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck with a long, content sigh.

Resting your cheek against his hair, you tuck your blankets around his shoulders, murmuring a soft, “Hey, baby.”

The doctor lets out a low rumble in response, drawing you impossibly closer. You inhale sharply when he slips his hands under your sweater, his freezing cold fingers desperately seeking out the warmth of your skin. You shiver as they trace delicately along your waist, slotting in the tight space between you and the couch.

“Your fingers are freezing,” you whine, jarred from your sleepy state.

Of course you don’t actually mind, though. Not with Zayne. Not when he nuzzles so cutely into your neck, murmuring the most unapologetic apology you’ve ever heard, his voice low and raspy with exhaustion. A fuzzy kind of fondness washes over you.

“Long day?”

Zayne sighs, his breath tickling the sensitive skin of your throat, “I’ve slept only three hours in the past two days.”

Poor thing.

You feel a stab of pity for him. That might be the only drawback of winter, you suppose. Akso Hospital is always infinitely busier with this kind of weather. The snow always brings more accidents and Zayne always volunteers to work extra shifts when the need is dire, no matter the cost to his health. It’s something you love, but also something that worries you.

Brows furrowing, you card your fingers through his hair tenderly in hopes of helping him relax. It’s still a little damp from the snow. Zayne shivers when your nails trace over his scalp. Another shaky sigh escapes him when your hand dips under his collar to massage his nape. He practically melts under your touch, his weight pressing you deeper into the couch.

You’re not sure where the movie is now. The cup of hot cocoa on the side table is likely cold. But it’s hard to care. All you can focus on is Zayne. The steady rise and fall of his chest. The faint smell of jasmine hidden under the lingering scent of the hospital. The comforting weight of his body on top of yours.

Eyes fluttering shut, you nuzzle your face into his hair, hands going still around his shoulders. The two of you stay like that for what feels like hours, drifting in and out of sleep as the snow dances outside. It all feels so distant, your blankets hiding you from the cold, from the rest of the world. 

It’s just the two of you.

The two of you, in your shared apartment, always coming home to one another. Just like this.

Your heart warms at the thought. Nudging his forehead gently, you draw Zayne back just enough to see his face. He looks back at you with those hooded eyes, hazel depths brimming with a reverent affection. Biting back a smile, you lean down to kiss him. It’s a tender thing, a mere brush of your lips against his, featherlight and full of devotion. It leaves the both of  you aching yet content as you draw away.

“I love you,” you whisper, nose brushing his sweetly.

“I love you as well, my dear,” he hums, a flicker of a tired smile gracing his lips.

You can’t resist pressing another kiss to them, your own smile breaking through, “Go to sleep, baby. I’ll wake you when it’s time for dinner.”

Without an ounce of resistance, Zayne settles back against you, his head resting on your chest. The soft thrum of your heartbeat lulls him to sleep, the exhaustion finally catching up and pulling him under. You listen as his breathing evens out, deep and slow.

And while you mean to stay up, you can’t resist the warmth, the comfort of having him there with you.

Vaguely, you hear the credit song playing as you drift off into sleep.

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I have such a thing for calling stoic men 'baby', I feel like it's so soft and cute and he'd honestly probably melt for it. Idk, maybe just me, please don't come for me in the comments.