#like she used to be super against all piercings except like in your ears

[phoenix-eclipses]

Currently entertaining the demons in my head that want a piercing

Like I could totally go next week since Im home alone and by the time my parents come back it’ll already be done so likeeee

If I do probably just a nostril one?? I also wanna get a lip piercing but I’m getting braces at some point soon and I don’t wanna deal with any problems that’s gonna cause so thats gonna have to wait

[lacydollette]

BLESSING IN DISGUISE — CHAPTER TWO

PAIRING lovely kook!reader x jj maybank

SUMMARY after reconnecting with your childhood best friend sarah, she introduces you to the pogues, and one of them definitely strikes your interest more than he should’ve

WARNING(S) slightly suggestive, jj being a flirt, kook x pogue dynamics, kie lowkey being a hater, mentions of readers and rafes past, spin the bottle, mentions of alcohol, kissing

The golden coast of Kildare Island's sunset painted the sky as Sarah guided you down the dirt path toward John B's chateau, feeling a bit anxious. After all your life wasn’t like any of theirs, and that scared you a bit.

"Just... don't let JJ get to you. He's... well, you'll see." She warned you, knowing that her friend would try to hit on you every chance he got.

You smirked, tucking your wavy hair behind your ear. "You're acting like I'm not used to guys like him. Trust me, I've handled worse."

Yet you couldn't stop the flood of nerves rolling through your body. Coming back to Kildare was one thing; entering the world of Sarah's pogues was another. For someone like you—Rafe’s ex, and being a "kook" in every sense of the word—this was like walking into enemy territory.

You couldn’t help but think of Rafe as you walked along the chunky trail, to him the pogues were always equal to filthy animals, so knowing that Sarah was now one of them made you curious.

Of course, just like Rafe, you used to stay away from pogues, maybe with one exception, but that didn’t matter now. You were taught that your worlds shouldn’t mix, that it wouldn’t work, but knowing just how pathetic your old life was, it maybe wouldn’t be too bad of an idea.

Your little boots crunched against the gravel as you took in the sight before you: a quiet run down house that looked like it had survived one hurricane too many, mismatched furniture scattered across the yard, and a group of teens lounging in the chaos like it was their kingdom.

As you stepped onto the property, a tall, blonde boy was the first to notice you, his face lighting up in surprise and excitement. He jumped down from where he'd been sitting and strode over, his grin wide.

"Dammit Sarah, if I had known that you'd bring over a goddess I would've put on less clothes." JJ drawled, his blue eyes locked on you. Now you definitely knew what Sarah was talking about. Nothing you couldn’t handle tho.

Before you could respond, Sarah stepped between you, rolling her eyes. "JJ, seriously? Don't scare her off five seconds in.”

"Just being friendly," JJ said, holding his hands up in mock innocence. His eyes didn't leave yours, though, and you couldn't help the faint warmth rising in your cheeks. He was super hot.

And you were definitely amused by his charm, lips curving into a slow, knowing smile. "And you must be the rowdy pogue with a reputation to match." You replied smoothly. JJ seemed a bit taken aback, and his grin widened, clearly enjoying the challenge.

"Guilty as charged. But don't worry, I'm harmless... mostly."

"Come on," Sarah said, dragging you toward the group. "Before he says something even dumber."

Getting closer to the group, Kiara was the first to get up. She crossed her arms over her chest, her sharp eyes piercing through you, feeling skeptical. "So, you're y/n."

"Guilty," you said, echoing JJ's words with a playful shrug. You extended a hand. "It's nice to meet you."

Kiara hesitated before shaking your hand. "Yeah, nice to meet you too." Her words were clipped, and you didn't miss the side eye Kiara shot at Sarah. But you didn’t judge her, after all you were kind of skeptical too.

Luckily the rest of the introductions went smoother. Pope was polite but distracted, and John B—Sarah's new boyfriend—was laid-back and welcoming, though his smile carried a hint of curiosity, like he was trying to figure you out.

But it was JJ who lingered, his gaze following your every move, his flirty comments never far behind. It felt all so exciting.

"So, y/n," JJ said as you all settled into your seats, beers in hand. "What's a kook princess like you doing slumming it with us?"

Sarah shot him a warning look, but you just smirked. "Wouldn't you like to know, hm?"

JJ laughed, clearly enjoying the way you confronted him, while Kiara rolled her eyes, muttering something under her breath.

As the evening wore on, the tension in the air began to ease. You found yourself laughing at John B's ridiculous stories, paired with JJ's enthusiasm, and even getting a nod of approval from Pope when you mentioned your favorite book. Kiara, however, remained a mystery to you.

"Alright, truth or dare time," JJ announced suddenly, grabbing a bottle from the sand. "No backing out."

"Oh, come on," Kiara groaned, though she didn't move to leave.

The first few rounds were tame, the dares harmless and the truths revealing just enough to keep things fun. Then the bottle landed on JJ.

"Oh, here we go," Pope muttered, earning a laugh from the group.

JJ leaned back, spreading his arms like he was owning the place. "Hit me, baby." He smirked, eyes locked on you as a devilishly, alcohol fueled, idea came to your mind. You just couldn’t hold back, lips curling into a mischievous smile. "I dare you to kiss me."

The whole group fell silent, every eye darting between you and JJ. Even the fire seemed to flicker in response, the crackling flames being the only sound.

JJ blinked, his grin faltering for a moment. "Wait—what?"

"You heard me," you said, voice steady. Your confidence was unshaken, though your heart was pounding in your chest. You weren’t even sure where the boldness had come from, but there was no taking it back now.

Sarah laughed, burying her face in her hands. "Oh my god, y/n."

"Bold move," JJ said, his surprise melting into amusement. "I like it."

He stood, brushing the sand off his jeans, and walked over to you. The air felt electric as he crouched down in front of you, his blue eyes locking onto yours.

"You sure about this, kook girl?" he murmured, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

"Scared?" You shot back, smirk growing.

JJ didn't hesitate. In one smooth motion, he closed the gap between you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was anything but shy. It was heated, bold, and left no room for misinterpretation.

The group erupted in cheers and whistles, John B's voice cutting through the noise. "JJ, what the hell, man?"

As he kissed you there was an unspoken pull, the desire obvious in both of your movements. It felt good kissing him, really good, so when he pulled back you couldn’t help but pout a little.

Yet his grin was even bigger. "You asked for it."

You laughed, cheeks warm, but you didn't flinch under the group's teasing. If anything, you leaned into it, your confidence high. You hadn't expected to feel this at ease with JJ, and his charm that ran just a little wild. It was different, and strangely, you liked it.

As the game continued, the bottle spun and landed on you. Not hesitating to pick truth, knowing you couldn't dodge forever and also not wanting to be a spoilsport.

Kiara, who had been quiet for most of the night, leaned forward, her expression serious. "Why did you leave Kildare?"

The question hung in the air, and your earlier smile faltered. You felt your throat tighten, glancing at the flames and wishing you could disappear into the sparks. You hadn't exactly planned on going into your past tonight.

Sensing your tension, Sarah quickly jumped in, squeezing your hand. "Y/n went through a rough time," she explained, her voice softer than usual. "There was... a lot going on, and it was all a bit much. You all know how my family can be." She paused, eyes on the fire, then added, "And, uh... y/n dating my brother didn't help. It got... toxic, real fast."

Everyone went quiet, and you felt their eyes on you, shock written across their faces. Yup, somehow it’s always been a shocker for others when they found out you two used to date, cause now you both couldn’t be any more different from each other. Or weren’t you?

"You... and Rafe?" Kiara's voice was laced with surprise, though it held a hint of understanding now—maybe even sympathy. "Seriously?"

You nodded slowly, not meeting anyone's gaze. "Yeah. It's not something I'm proud of. Trust me." You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of those words as you admitted them out loud. "I lost myself for a while. Leaving was the only way. I needed to figure myself out."

JJ was the first to break the silence. "Hey, everyone's got stuff they're not proud of." He shrugged, as if to say it didn't matter to him. "At least you're here now, right?"

You managed a grateful smile, feeling some of the tension ease. The group smiled gently, their earlier reservations melting away. And somehow exposing yourself like that definitely made you feel good, the pogues giving you a feeling of security, treating you with a newfound gentleness.

As the fire died down, everyone began to yawn and stretch, the long hours of the day catching up with you, so John B offered to drive you, Pope and Kie home.

While the two boys piled into the van, Kiara lingered for a moment, pulling you aside as you were about to walk up to the vehicle.

"Hey," Kiara said quietly. "I just wanted to say... I'm sorry. For being shady earlier. And for pushing you with that question."

You blinked, definitely not expecting an apology from her. "It's okay. I get it—you didn't know."

Kiara nodded, her expression softening. "Yeah, but still. You're not what I expected, but... you're cool. I'm glad you're here."

You smiled, the words meaning more than you cared to admit. "Thanks, Kie."

As you climbed into the van, you felt something shift inside you. For the first time in a long time, you felt like you might actually belong somewhere.

LINKS .ᐟ series masterlist

TAGS .ᐟ @gibson-g1rl @beausling @bunnyrafe @rafescokewhore @starkeysprincess @rafesweetie @rafeslacy @rafesangelita @rafey-baby @starkeydolly @moremaybank @drewspinkbunny @drewsarms

[hearts4golbach]

The Night Shift.

Chapter 10.

Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader.

30 minutes until midnight. my heart raced, thinking about kissing johnnie. I'm sure he just wants to kiss in a platonic way. friends kiss, right?

we were all crowded around in the kitchen, eating all the snacks I had. I had taken a couple more shots to give myself the courage to not let this plan fall through.

"you ready, y/n?" Tara whispers. "I told you, I got your back. the fact that he agreed is proof you two have a chance."

"he seemed against it, tar." I shrugged, drinking my coke.

"trust the process."

"so, you and Jake are going to kiss at midnight?" I laughed, wanting to change the subject.

"uhm, yeah, sure." she smiled deviously.

"are you okay?" I asked, concerned.

"mhm!"

"okay." I laughed and walked over to johnnie. "you feeling okay? you drank a lot."

he quickly nodded. "I feel fine, I guess. I've been drinking water." he had a goofy smile on his face.

"that's good." I laughed. I looked around the room at the group of people. I've known them for less than a month, but we were all so close, and I was about to have my first kiss.

"bitches and hoes, we have a minute til new years." Jake called from the living room.

I chewed on my bottom lip. we all gathered in the living room. I poured myself one more drink and quickly downed it.

"you sure this is okay?" johnnie asked while Tara and Jake weren't paying attention.

"absolutely." I smiled. "don't worry about it."

"good." he muttered.

the timer on the live news channel started to count down from 10. Tara and Jake counted down with it while I stared into Johnnie's eyes. it wasn't awkward as he looked back into mine.

on 3, he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me closer. I felt my heart skip a beat as my mind raced, I had no idea how to kiss. I moved my arms up and rested them around the back of his neck. I moved a strand of hair stuck in his piercing away from his lips.

when the timer hit one, johnnie smashed his lips against mine. I melted into him, following his lead.

I moved my hands to his cheeks as we held the kiss. I glanced at Tara and Jake. they stood there giggling. I pulled away from johnnie, "oh my god. you guys are little fucking liars!"

johnnie had a dissapointed look on his face. "y-yeah! what the fuck, dude?" he pushed Jake.

we turned on legally blonde as we all collapsed onto the couch. I sat in between johnnie and Tara.

she leaned over and whispered in my ear. "that was way too passionate for there to be nothing behind that. did you see how dissapointed he looked when you pulled away?"

I nodded. "I don't want to get my hopes up."

"I can tell he feels something, y/n." she smiled. "johnnie doesn't just go around kissing his friends. he's been pretty up tight for a couple years."

"I guess we'll see." I gave her a weak smile and turned my attention back to the movie.

about an hour later, everyone was asleep except for me ans johnnie. I looked at him. "I'm ready to go to bed, honestly."

"yeah," he stretched. "me too."

"you can take my bed, I'll sleep on the floor. you can't say no, because that's how it was at your house." I smiled and got up.

he rolled his eyes but ended up giving in. he followed me to my room, stumbling over his own feet.

"damn," I giggled. "you're a lightweight."

he cleared his throat. "I know." he paused. "I used to drink a lot."

"why?" I grabbed a couple extra blankets from the hallway before walking into my room.

he seemed hesitant to answer the question.

"you don't have to tell me if you're not comfortable."

"I guess I was just super depressed back in like, 2019." he shrugged, sitting on my bed.

"I guess that makes sense. are you better now?" I looked up at him. he was looking down at me already.

his expression softened. "yeah." he seemed to be unsure of what he was about to say. "ever since I met you."

my heart fluttered. "i- I don't know what to say." I admitted. "but you make my life a hell of a lot better, too."

he smiled with his teeth. "I'm glad the feeling is mutual."

and I wished a lot of feelings were mutual, but I was terrified to ask. I nodded and flashed him a smile back. we both laid down and got comfortable.

"y/n, we've already shared a bed. just get up here." Johnnie's sleepy voice broke the silence.

I quickly got up and crawled in bed next to him. "you sound like me."

he laughed and closed his eyes. hid arms snaked around me, pulling me closer. I giggled and did the same, resting my head on his chest.

his hands ventured up the back of my shirt as he gently rubbed my back. he ran his hands over my bra, giving me chills. I scooted closer to him, intertwining my leg with his. I quickly fell asleep as he continued to run his hand over my back soothingly.

[wkemeup]

The Offer

summary: Zemo offers to sell the Winter Soldier in exchange for information. pairing: bucky x reader word count: 3k warnings: vaguely implied unwanted sexual contact a/n: this is based around the Madripoor scene in TFATWS ep 3, particularly Zemo’s suggestion of “he will do anything you want.”

“You must maintain your cover,” Zemo’s voice rang in your ear, drowning out the heavy bass of loudspeakers from the club down the hall. “If you break character, they will know... and they will kill us.”

You held your breath; arms folded tight across your chest, nails digging into the exposed skin on your biceps. It did little to ease the strain within your muscle as you watched Bucky standing guard at the edge of the room, his eyes overcast in a cold, emotionless haze. Ready for command. Empty of the needs and desire that made him human. Portraying the shadow from his past he was so desperate to escape.

Slowly, you shifted your weight on heels sharp enough to pierce skin. The clothes Zemo had dressed you in were unforgiving, exposing every dip and curve on your body, though you supposed that was his intention. You were meant assume the role of a wealthy arms dealer known only as Lilith, a woman whose reputation for the bedrooms of Madripoor outweighed even that of the weapons at her disposal. An affinity for the finer things in life, Zemo had snickered to himself. Sex, drugs, and power.

Bucky’s eyes shifted to the floor near your feet. You could tell he was watching you from his peripherals though his expression remained vacant. It was shocking to see him like this again, worse that he seemed to fall back into the role of the Winter Soldier so easily – like he’d never truly believed he could put his past to rest at all.

Zemo paced at the center of the room, discussing terms while Selby lounged on the couch. Her brazen comfort in a room of powerful agents on the dark market told you she had more leverage than any of you anticipated. You felt for the slight weight of the gun strapped at your thigh, keeping careful watch of the guards stationed just outside the door. The four of you were easily outnumbered and outgunned, even with Bucky throwing himself back to the Winter Soldier.

Sam caught your eye across the room, his face stern enough to communicate his uncertainty. He didn’t trust Zemo anymore than you did. The man was responsible for dozens of deaths, including the King of Wakanda, and he’d done the Avengers no favors by planting a seed of war between the most powerful people on the planet. You tried not to follow Sam's gaze when his eyes flickered to Bucky, a softening in his brow to see months of progress virtually erased within seconds.

“What’s the offer?” Selby’s voice broke through the haze. You hadn’t realized how focused you’d been on Bucky until you began to notice the music thumping through the walls and the scent of stale beer lining the floors – a disorienting state amongst precious stole artifacts and original paintings.

Zemo stood from his chair, crossing the room. He picked up a relic from the center table, admiring the shiny copper edges as he tossed it in the air. It nearly slipped from his grip and he shuttered out an apologetic wince at Selby before placing it back on the table. You rolled your eyes.

Adjusting the fur lined collar of his jacket, Zemo circled the edges of the room. He came to a pause over Bucky’s shoulder, gaze slowly trailing down his frame, tracing over the lines on Bucky's face as if he were studying for imperfections. A sinister smirk curled at his lips before he turned back to Selby.

“Tell us what you know about the super soldier serum,” Zemo bargained, waiting for her interest to peak before he continued. She shifted in her seat; a brow raised. His lips curved in a devious grin enough to make your stomach twist. “And we’ll give you him. Along with the code words to control him, of course.”

Bucky didn’t so much as flinch, his stare maintaining the same emptiness you saw the day on the bridge when he’d been muzzled by his captors and made to be a weapon. Nothing in his expression gave way to whatever was going through his mind and part of you wondered if he’d allowed himself so far into this role again, that he’d embraced the cold arms of the numbness it carried. It was easier than allowing himself to feel any of the rage that was rapidly boiling under your skin, you supposed.

But then, Zemo’s knuckles grazed at Bucky’s cheek. Lingering over unshaven stubble, a shadow along his jaw. A delicate touch though it seemed to burn as if steam could rise from the contact alone.

Zemo turned, grinning at Selby. “He will do anything you want.”

It was so impossibly subtle, you weren’t sure anyone else had noticed, but Bucky’s jaw clenched. The muscle shifted the shadows on his face, his breathing coming to a stop as his chest no longer carried the steady rise and fall under layers of leather and Kevlar. Zemo’s hand moved along Bucky’s jaw, fingers dangerously close to his lips, and you felt for the outline of the gun strapped to your thigh.

"Anything?" Selby inquired. Her tone was even though her eyes widened just enough, the dark of her pupils expanding as she glanced over Bucky's frame.

"When he is properly activated, the Soldier is incredibly–" Zemo paused, tapping the edge of Bucky's chin, "–eager to please. There's nothing else inside that brain of his except his mission. What that mission is, is entirely up to whoever recites the triggers."

“Fascinating,” Selby grinned as she slowly stood from her perch.

You followed her stride with every agonizing step towards Bucky. Just as she crossed in front of The Smiling Tiger, Sam’s gaze met yours. He narrowed his eyes, the slight shake in his head barely noticeable. He must have seen you reach for your gun – an instinct to protect Bucky from the demons of his past, a tangible weapon you hadn't been able to use against the monsters in his sleep. It took every ounce of your strength to relax away from the comforting metal.

You watched as Selby’s eyes roamed over Bucky – hungry, and like a vulture, she licked her lips. As she began to circle his frame, gaze trailing down from his shoulders, to his thighs, down to his feet, never once daring to meet his eyes, you found yourself inching closer. Bucky’s hand curled into a fist so tight his nails broke skin in his right hand, blood prickling at his palm. And still—his expression remained stoic, unfeeling. A paralyzing thought crossed your mind and you questioned if this dance was a familiar one – the art of being sold to another human being.

Selby paused as she faced him; examining the features on his face as if he were something other than human – a prize to be won, a possession to own, a trophy to show off.

“And he’s still in working condition? After all these years?” she inquired toward Zemo, standing so dangerously close to Bucky. His stare focused straight ahead, far beyond the wall across the room as if he could burn holes into the plaster.

"He's quite impressive," Selby murmured. Slowly, her hand reached towards his face.

Your grip was around her wrist before anyone realized you’d crossed the room. She flinched, startled by the vice-like hold wrapped around her wrist and a pained sort of whine escaped. She flexed her fingers and still, you held your ground.

“Is there a problem, Lilith?” Selby smirked, curiosity glaring as her eyes flickered between you and Bucky. You said nothing and yet, her lips parted in understanding. “Oh, I see. You control him. Don’t you, dear? He belongs to you.”

You tasted bile on your tongue – the very thought of owning Bucky as if his agency was not even in question made you sick to your stomach. Your grip tightened on Selby’s wrist and you would have broken it clean in two if you had the strength for it. But one look at Zemo and the cautious gaze upon his face, and you forced yourself to swallow back the venom in your mouth. You didn’t allow the disgust to touch your features or the shame to burn hot into your neck. Lilith would not be fazed by the selling of a weapon—even if that weapon were a man with heart so heavy, so full and so kind, he could hardly carry its burden on his own.

“Make your deal, Selby,” you hissed in an accident belonging to the weapons dealer you portrayed, “then, you can play with your toy. Until we have our intel, hands off the product.”

You released Selby’s wrist and she stepped back a few paces. She slid her left hand over the red marks forming over her skim, gingerly massaging at the area and still – the grin did not falter from her cheeks. Impressed, intrigued. She seemed inclined to ask you more about your bond to the Winter Soldier when you stepped in front of Bucky, blocking her view as she unabashedly stared down her hopeful new possession. Sam and Zemo exchanged a glance, though their expressions did not carry the weight their eyes did.

Behind you, you could hear Bucky exhale a heavy a breath, could practically feel as his fists released to be out of the woman’s eye line. It was short lived, of course, as all things in Madripoor were. A gunshot pierced through the window and lodged itself into Selby’s head.

***

You woke with a sudden start, the sticky smell of stale beer still on your skin as you jolted up on an unfamiliar bed. The room was vaguely a blur thanks to the pounding ache in the back of your head, but you could see enough to know it was not a place you recognized. To your left, the bed was untouched; sheets perfectly pressed as if they’d never been laid in at all. Glancing down, you saw you were still wearing the dress from the club, makeup smeared over your face and onto the pillows. You brushed at your cheeks to remove the mascara stains.

At the end of the bed, laid a fresh pair of clothes. Blue jeans and a black pullover. You sighed, pressing a hand over the soft fabric and bringing it to your face. It smelled of lavender and vanilla – fresh and inviting compared to the sweaty stale air of the night club.

The night before was mostly a blur. You didn’t remember much after Selby was killed; only Bucky’s hands on your waist, pulling you back towards the door as you tried to locate the shooter. You’d kicked off your heels and sprinted next to him in your bare feet – a man who could challenge the speed of moving vehicles and he was running in line with you and Sam while gunshots reined from every direction. Self-preservation was not a concept in Bucky’s vocabulary.

Your feet were bloodied by the time you caught your breath again and within the impossibly small moment you took to pause, an assailant had knocked you out from behind. Cold darkness. Instantaneously. After that, you could only catch vague memories of Bucky lifting you into his arms and Sharon Carter’s voice. But you hadn’t seen Sharon in years. Not since the aftermath of Vienna. The theory didn’t make much sense.

You felt along the dresser for your gun, only to find it empty. With a tired groan, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed, hoping you could find Bucky or Sam before you found trouble. Your feet were wrapped in bandages carrying a slight pink color on the soles – courteous of Zemo’s ridiculous heels you’d left behind the chaos and the mile worth of pavement you’d run barefoot on.

The chill of the hardwood floors was a relief on the undersides of your feet, but you hadn’t accounted for the dizziness from your concussion to take over once you stood. The room went dark and you began to sway, trying to feel for the bed behind you, when suddenly you hard footsteps rushing into the room.

“Hey, hey, what are you doing out of bed?” Bucky’s arms wrapped at your waist, holding you steady. He guided you back to the bed, helping you to sit on the edge as you regained your vision. He sat down beside you, keeping a hand on your arm to help ground you as you focused on the permanence of the room, the sturdiness of solid ground.

“What happened?” you sighed, pressing your palms to your eyes. Your head was still ringing from the blow you took the night before. When you finally allowed yourself to adjust to the sunlight in the room, you turned to face Bucky. He was dressed in a plan black t-shirt and jeans; his Winter Soldier attire hung in the corner of the room.

“Sharon happened,” Bucky chuckled with a short shake of his head. You thought you might be surprised at his answer, and somehow, you weren’t at all. Bucky softened, his fingers brushing at the hem of your dress. “You should change into something more comfortable. Sharon left some clothes for you but um... you were pretty out of it last night and I didn’t want to... um...”

“Thank you, Bucky.” You smiled at him as you placed your hand on top of his. You squeezed at his fingers, curling under his palm against your thigh. For a moment, you nearly lost yourself in the sunlit reflection of blue within his eyes – the delicate intricacies of a complex man. So impossibly sweet and kind in the daylight; cold as stone in the night under the guise of the Winter Soldier.

Bucky helped you to stand, giving you time to adjust to the sting of healing wounds on the soles of your feet. He turned his back to give you privacy, though he kept close enough that you could grab hold of his shoulder for support. He pushed the clothes down the bed for you to reach easily.

Slowly, ignoring the ache in your body, you slid the zipper down your spine, letting the dress fall to a heap at your feet. You tried not to notice how Bucky’s shoulders tightened at the sound, his stance a little less balanced at the fallen fabric. Gingerly, you dressed yourself in the jeans and pullover Sharon had provided for you, trying to stifle a wince as you shifted on your feet. Bucky’s head tilted at your whimper, his instinct fighting to turn to you, to help you, but he held himself still.

When you were done, you reached for the necklace at your bedside, one you hadn’t worn on the mission but you carried it with you wherever you went – the last token you had of a distant life before the Avengers. Sam had kept it in his pocket in Madripoor.

“Would you mind?” you called softly, tapping a hand against Bucky’s shoulder. He turned cautiously, almost timid in his movements, and you smiled at him as he held his hand out. The delicate gold chain dropped into his palm – a beautiful contrast to the black metal, in mirror to the detailing work along his shoulder.

Before you could turn your back to him, Bucky stepped closer. He held each side of the necklace in his hands and brought them around the back of your neck. This close, you could smell the bar soap he’d used that morning, you could see the lines of scruff along his jaw he hadn’t been able to shave.

When he clasped the chain, he stepped back slowly, but only enough to admire his work. He brushed your hair away from your collar, a ghosted smile on his lips at he touched the pendent at the center. This wonderful, beautiful man who learned to find comfort in touch again, who sought you out when it felt impossible to reclaim that part of him. Memory of the night before etched into your mind and you swallowed back the lump in your throat.

“Bucky?”

He smiled a little wider, focused on tracing his fingers along your jaw, brushing away your hair. “Yeah?”

“Do you want to talk about last night?”

Bucky paused, his touch upon you skin turning near to stone before he pulled away. The smile he’d worn slowly faded from his lips, the cold rush of reality piercing through the tender moment, and you hated yourself for being the cause of such pain. Bucky sighed, sinking down onto the bed, his hands gripped tight to the edge of the mattress.

“Not sure there’s much to say, doll,” Bucky exhaled.

You sat beside him, close enough for your thigh to brush in line with his. He looked down at the little space between you, his eyes fluttered closed at the contact – the grounding sensation of welcomed touch.

“You're not him anymore, Bucky,” you said softly, setting your hand over his own. “No one is ever going to control you or... or own you again, okay? They can’t make you do anything you don’t want to... not anymore. You’re free. You know that, don’t you?”

Bucky nodded, though it was slow, almost aching. He squeezed at your hand, pushing out a pained smile as he looked at you. “I do.”

You reached towards him with your free hand, cupping the side of his cheek where Zemo had touched him the night before. You traced your thumb over his jaw line, tingling over the short hairs on his skin. So beautiful and lovely after decades suffering under the hands of cruel men.

“You know I’d kill anyone who tried, right?”

Bucky chuckled at that and you were grateful to see the lines by his eyes again, the smile pushing bright into his cheeks. “Yeah, sweetheart. I know that, too.”

He leaned forward a pressed a kiss to your temple. Short and lingering and not nearly long enough. But it was welcomed and warm and enough.

—

Thank you so much for reading! ❤️ If you enjoyed this fic, please consider supporting me at my ko-fi account ✨

[fruitoftheweek]

Little Cherry Book:

Chapter 4:Showered in Sin

Chapter 1 Here / Chapter 2 Here / Chapter 3 Here

Hey guys! I'm sorry that it has taken so long for me to update this. I had an idea of what I was going to write but I had a super hectic week so I wasn't able to write this till now. In order to make up for it, I have given you a treat. A 6,502 word chapter. It kinda beat my ass but I had so much fun writing it. It's sweet, it's spicy, it's all the goodness you guys deserve. I was listening to Duvet by Boa while writing this and I think you should too for two reasons. One, it helps set the mood, but also oh my fucking god it's such a good song. Also, Boa is just a fucking great band. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and message me if you would like to be added to the tag list! Love you guys

Pairing: Spencer Reid X reader

Chapter Plot: After a game of drunk never have I ever after a long case, Morgan locks Spencer out of their shared room. Shenanigans ensue and you and Spencer share a couple of firsts.

Series TW: 18+, smut, degradation, piercing, choking, knife play, mommy/daddy kinks, spanking, exhibitionism, Will update as time goes on

Chapter TW: smut, slight mommy kink, having body piercings, choking, slight blood kink (not really, it's just hard to explain), Shared masturbation (male and female receiving), pleading, multiple orgasms, cumming in pants, shower sexiness, aftercare

Word Count: 6,502

Your deep cherry lipstick painted the white seal of the wine bottle you held in your hand as you laughed at something Elle said. Spencer couldn't help but let a small smile pass his lips as he took in your form, hot from the day's work, small strands of your hair sticking to your forehead, a dewy glow illuminating your rosy cheeks.

After a long week, they had found Carl Arnold before he had been able to kill the Dunken family and even coerced a confession out of him. With spirits running high, Elle had suggested some much-needed relaxation before taking off the next day. Since you were rooming alone, you volunteered to host in your room. Morgan had arrived at your hotel room with two bottles of some sort of liquor, one clear and one amber, JJ trailing in toe with your bottle of red wine you had asked for. You pulled out your little corkscrew with the face of an old man on it, knowing she hated his weird little face. You brought it with you on trips, just in case the occasion arose.

And it did arise as Elle suggested a drinking game. Hotch had retired early after calling Hailey to get an update on his very pregnant wife, while Gideon preferred the solitude of a good book late at night. The rest of you sat on the floor surrounded by drinks and snacks. With the supervision gone, it almost felt like a high school party with no parents. You all had all settled on a classic, never have I ever. "We haven't played this in a long time because we already know so much about each other, but it's fun when we have a newbie around," Morgan said giving you a cheeky smile and bumping your shoulder. Already pliable after the couple of drinks you had while Elle explained the game, you nodded before tipping your lips to the cusp of Spencer's ear. "I'll try not to make it too hard for you, pretty boy," you said. The small puffs of air that left your mouth made Spencer's hair stand on end and his feet curl.

He knew you were teasing him that night and he loved it. He decided to keep his knees tucked to his chest for the rest of the night as to not expose the predicament in his pants. He watched the way you lightly sucked on the wine bottle as you tipped it back, a thin river of cabernet leaking from the corner of your lips and trailing down your neck. Spencer wanted nothing more than to lean over and lap it off of you just to see how you would react, but he knew it was the drinks talking. Despite your earlier comment, it was quite obvious that you were targeting him as his head started to spin gently.

"Never have I ever had sex with someone much older than me," Garcia said through her video feed with a cheeky smirk. Derek had insisted on including her even though she wasn't physically present. She sat bundled up in a comfy blanket in her office with a mug of some sort of alcoholic beverage. "HEY! No targeting! Plus, I told you that in confidence at ladies night. How much is much older?" You said, swaying your bottle towards the computer set up on the floor."You know how much older I mean sweetheart." Garcia said with a giggle as you groaned and took a sip."How much older is much older?" Morgan said with a cocked eyebrow, somewhere between impressed and surprised." I was a college student, experimenting with my professor. Not like an old man, but he was 20 years older than me. Definitely not my style anymore though." You said with a grimace remembering him.

Spencer had learned a lot about your sex life during that game, but some part inside of him smirked, knowing that the rest of the team would never know you as he knew you, not unless they too had read your journal. It was the only thing keeping his head clear of the idea of you with anyone else. Not that you were with him in any capacity, but the idea still made him feel something in his stomach. Not the sweet butterflies that came with your smile, but something more like idiotic hornets dangerously bumping against the walls of his stomach.

Spencer hadn't even noticed the uproar of everyone else around the circle at your comment and the second revelation that Morgan had drunk too. He was too busy watching how you had shyly tucked your hair behind your ear, finally letting it down out of your clips for once. You were wearing your pajamas, just a tank top, slouchy sweater, and flannel pajama pants, but somehow you looked more radiant than ever. He had come back down to earth after hearing someone call his name."Y-Yes?" He sputtered out, realizing you had been trying to get his attention."It's Morgan's turn, pay attention." You said, gently smacking your hand down on his thigh.

If he was riled up before, he was unbelievably undone at the slight sting from where your palm had just been. Light enough that it wasn't noticeable, but hard enough that it erupted a Shockwave through his body, centered on the location of the contact. He bit back the whimper threatening to escape his lips as he turned towards Morgan, trying desperately to not watch you from the corner of his eye.

"Never have I been a virgin at 24," Morgan said, beaming in his direction. Spencer took a big gulp from his glass of whiskey."You always do that one, I don't know why you think it's so funny, you're just trying to get me to drink" he said abashedly. He looked over at you, nervous for your reaction, but you seemed unfazed. "Hey, that's a wonderful gift to have, there's something so special about virgins. Maybe it's the idea that everything is new, but I like it. I love virgins." You said, taking a sip from your bottle, gently swaying. You had given up on never have I ever and just decided to drink whenever you felt like it. Maybe it was because you were tipsy, maybe it was the warm flush that decorated Spencer's cheeks, maybe it was the way he was looking at you with sultry, half-lidded eyes. You couldn't tell, but something made you want to find an excuse for you two to be alone.

"Geese, we seemed to have caught a succubus tonight." Morgan quipped."A suck-you-what now?" You said, cocking an eyebrow at him. " A succubus, it's a demon or supernatural entity in folklore, in female form, that appears in dreams to seduce men, usually through sexual activity. According to religious traditions, repeated sexual activity with a succubus can cause poor physical or mental health, even death. In modern representations, a succubus is often depicted as a beautiful seductress or enchantress, rather than as demonic or frightening." Spencer shot out. "Wow, even when you're drunk, your big brain keeps chuggin' along," you said, sloppily ruffling his hair "A beautiful seductress or enchantress, huh?" That time it came out low, inaudible to the others, but it pierced Spencer like a knife."Do you think that's accurate bout me?" you asked, staring up into his eyes, closer than you have been before. Spencer let a cartoonish gulping noise escape his lips as he held back his urge to lean into your touch.

"Ah, it's my turn," you said, leaning back into your spot in the circle and sadly, away from Spencer." Never have I ever done something naughty at our work," you said, looking straight at Spencer "I'll know if you're lying, I can sniff out a liar from a mile away," your cocky smirk leaking out of your mouth. Everyone except you and JJ took a shot."Wow, really you guys? Even you Spence? " JJ said in disbelief, looking around the circle."Never have I ever, my ass" Spencer mumbled under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear, looking over at you, thinking about your pantieless escapades.

"Look at that, Doctor Reid, you need another drink, let me go fix you one," You said as you grabbed his glass in one hand, leaning and gripping hard into his shoulder with the other. It wasn't seen by the others, but between that and the fiery look in your eyes, it sent an obvious message,' keep your mouth shut or I'll shut it for you.' You used him as leverage to get up, nearly pushing him over as you gracefully stumbled to the hotel fridge. He knew what you meant, but he didn't care, your grip on him went straight into his imagination as he envisioned what that grip would feel like in other places. He kind of wanted to push his luck, just so he could see what he had in store.

And push it he did as you handed him the glass, reminding him that it was indeed his turn to play never have I ever. "Never have I ever slept with my professor," He said, obviously targeting you with a glint of mischief in his eyes."Oh yeah, well never have I ever been a virgin at 24." You said, swaying as you sat down."Morgan already said that, dummy. Never have I ever worn stupid dark red lipstick" He retorted, equally as drunk as you. At this point everyone else had zoned you two out and were focused on other things, refreshing their drinks, counting the ceiling tiles, humming a sloppy rendition of My My Miss American Pie, or in Penelope's case, all three."Yeah, well never have I ever been a complete and utter mommas boy!" You continued, the statement turning Spencer beet red. You watched him clench and unclench his hands, you had obviously struck a nerve. Just as you were about to apologize, he cut you off. "Never have I ever had nipple piercings!" He shouted, pointing at your chest, now drawing attention to the obvious balls framing your nipples that you had once been covered by your long-forgotten sweater.

As he said it, it felt like the world went in slow motion. You could see the instant regret on his face as you dropped your bottle in surprise. It had landed on Spencers discarded whiskey glass and both shattered, wine and whiskey mixing with glass to create a slurry on the ground between them. "Fuck! You Guys!" Morgan said, "You got it all over my clothes." "Me too," Echoed Elle as they both stood up in their soaked clothes. "I think that calls it a night." JJ said, closing the laptop on the image of an already sleeping Garcia." Bye you guys, sleep well," you called after them as you and Spencer rushed around looking for towels to clean up the alcohol with.

"Ow! Son of a bitch!" Spencer cried as you dropped the last of the glass in the garbage can. As you rounded the corner, you saw Spencer pulling a rather large shard of glass that you must have missed out of his thumb, blood pooling at the tip. Without thinking, you crouched down and sucked his thumb into your mouth." A-ah! What... What are you doing!?" Spencer asked breathlessly, looking down at you with a deep hunger in his eyes. You pop off his thumb and squeeze it at the base, slowing the blood flow."Shut up," You said," This helps slow the bleeding. The sucking applies pressure. My mom used to do this for me... And no, do not psychoanalyze that." You said, wrapping your mouth around his finger, sucking to provide some pressure to slow the blood flow. You could taste the iron in your mouth, but you didn't mind, knowing you were helping your friend.

You were helping alright, helping in more ways than you would ever understand. "Yeah, like I'm the only one here with mommy issues," he said distractedly, too busy surveying your lips wrapped around him. You slapped your hand down on his thigh once more, eliciting a small whimper from him. He couldn't help it, you were a sight of beauty, you always were, but looking down on you right then, Spencer wanted to bottle that moment forever. The tops of your breasts peeking out from the top of your tank top, your eyes filled with a hazy glow, looking up at him to make sure he was ok, and your cheeks hollowing out around his thumb as you delicately sucked on his wound. It was as close as Spencer had ever gotten to anything sexual. He could feel your tongue swirling around the cut, lapping up the last couple drops of blood. He couldn't help but imagine what it would be like if it was another appendage and not his thumb. You sucked on his thumb one last time, harder than you had previously, and before he even knew what he was doing, his hips bucked up, rubbing his hard cock against his pajama pants, finally relieving his mounting orgasm.

You let go of his finger with a pop as your tongue trailed off of the underside of his thumb. Spencer looked anywhere but you, as a wet patch formed through his thin underwear and pajama pants. He hurried to cover it with his sweater, shooting up from his seated position."Um, Um, I'm g-gonna go shower and go to bed." He said, hurriedly scurrying over to where he had left his room key." Sorry partner, I saw Morgan accidentally grab both of your keys on the way out. He's probably asleep by now." You said languidly, leaning back to take in the sight of the soft boy in front of you. Totally flushed with heat, small beads of sweat peppering his forehead, his hands twiddling suspiciously into his sweater in an attempt to conceal crotch, trying and failing miserably to hide his rapidly cooling cum.

He whined a little, lighting a fire in you. He looked so thoroughly fucked out, and all you had done was suck his finger. You knew that you just had to play with him some more. "You know, you can use my shower, doctor." You said, and he let out a small sigh of relief, heading towards the bathroom. "There is one condition, though," You smirked coyly as he halted his motions, his body facing away from you. It was almost as if he was ready to run away at any moment. You walked over to him, slowly, taking your time to tease him. The silence hung heavy in the air as you looked up into his eyes questioningly, waiting for him to ask. "Wh-what is the condition." He said, unable to return your gaze, hands fisted in the hem of his sweater, pulling it down even further. You smirked, dipping your hands up and under his sweater, nearly brushing his spent cock before gently placing them on his bare stomach, just above his waistband. He sucked in a tight breath as you gently swirled your fingers in the short hair that lead from his belly button down to happier places." Before I ask, do you know about the color scale?" you said, fingers smoothing out over his little stomach." Um, k-kinda?" He said, heat flushing his cheeks."Green means good keep going, yellow means slow down, and red means stop right now, ok?" You said, looking up at him as he nods."Come on pretty boy, I need verbal confirmation. I need to know that you understand, got it." You said with a little pinch to his tummy. "Y-Yes, I understand!" He blurted out, standing stiff as a board." Good boy. Now, for my condition. You can shower if you show me what you're hiding." You said, leaning close enough that if Spencer breathed, your chests would meet each other. "What color, Spencer?" you said, languidly drawing lines up and down his torso with your nails."G-Green, Very green." He sputtered out, finally meeting your eyes."That's what I like to hear, sweet boy." You said before your fingers danced below his waistline, now somewhat crusty from his cum."W-wait!" He says, just as you were about to take him in your hand. You instantly stopped and looked up at him gently."We can stop here baby, it's not a problem." You said, beginning to remove your hand from his pants. He grabbed your hand through his pants, stopping your movement."It-It's not that. I don't want to stop, I just want... well..." He said and looked down shyly. "What do you want baby, anything," You smiled up at him. "Um, I haven't had my first kiss yet and I kinda... Well... I kinda..." He said, shuffling his feet, face beet red. Your eyebrows shot up quickly in surprise before letting out a gentle smile."Do you want a kiss, pretty boy?" You said, gently brushing the hair out of his face. He nodded, and you grabbed his chin, bringing him close. "Use your words, pretty boy. What do you want?" You whispered, breath gently ghosting Spencer's lips as he took you in up close. He could see every little pore and dimple of your skin and every color hidden in the depth of your eyes and he knew he needed to have you.

He shakily leaned forward, lips gently meeting yours, so light that if you hadn't seen his actions, you wouldn't have even known if you had touched. You moved your hand down to his throat, giving a light squeeze."Come on genius, use your words," you said as he whimpered. "Please, can I kiss you, please, please?" He begged, leaning into your touch, pleading for you to squeeze again. His efforts shoot straight to your heart. You indulged him in a kiss, not as spicy as the situation would permit, more of a sweet heat. He came in too hot and heavy at first, but you kissed him languidly, gently stroking his cheek to get him in the rhythm. His arms were straight out at his sides, hands clenched as if he was willing every muscle in his body to not touch you.

You let out a small laugh as you melted into his kiss, soft, puffy lips dancing across yours. "You know you can touch me," You said, pulling back, smiling at the smear of your lipstick, now staining his lips, and the endearing puppy dog eyes he was giving you. "Where can I touch you?" He whispered out as if he were telling a secret. "Wherever you want, baby. Wherever your heart desires." You replied, bringing your arms up to wrap loosely around his neck, pulling your bodies closer. He was as stiff as a board as his hands flitted around trying to find a good place to land. He finally settled on weaving his arms around your waist and up to cradle your neck, gently carding his fingers through the hair that fell at the nape of your neck. There was something so sweet in the way he cradled your body with feather-light touches as if you would disappear like smoke if he lingered too long. You reveled in the feeling of you two pressed together, slightly uncomfortable at the stiff material of his pajama pants on your stomach.

"Hey sweetheart," You said, pulling away as he chased after your lips, "I'm feeling kinda sweaty from the day, would you like to join me in the shower? What color?" "G-green, yes please." He said, tentatively pressing a kiss to your collarbone, exposed as the strap of your tank top had fallen down. You unwound from him, taking his hand delicately in your own, instantly missing the warmth his body provided.

You lead him into the bathroom, carefully stepping over the wine-soaked towels discarded on the floor before shutting the door and turning to face him. "I don't want to take this too fast for you because I know it's all very new so always tell me how you are feeling and if everything is ok. I want this to be good for you baby, ok?" You said, squeezing his hand that was still intertwined with yours. "Ok, th-thank you," He said shyly.

"Now, what do you want to do first? You're probably pretty uncomfortable in those pants, do you want me to take them off you?" You said, hooking one of your fingers into his waistband, pulling on in slightly creating a much-needed separation between his sticky cock and his uncomfortable pants."Y-Yes please" He said as you turned on the shower, allowing it to warm up in preparation for cleaning him off before turning back to him. You gently grabbed the hem of his sweater and pulled it over his head, leaving him shirtless in front of you.

Lean muscles were hidden under a layer of peachy soft skin highlighting the gentle trail of dark curly hair leading from his belly button down past his pants. His arms curled around himself as he watched your eyes carefully, ready for some sort of judgment. "I know I'm not really that s-strong or anything but I can work on it-" You cut him off with a gentle kiss right above his belly button, startling him. You looked up sweetly into his eyes and gave him a soft smile, saying "You are so beautiful, Spencer. Morgan calls you pretty boy, but he truly has no idea. I would have you no other way than you are right now."

You gently peppered his chest with feather-light kisses, making him blush. He finally understood why people liked hickeys because as you trailed down his chest, the little wine red lipstick you had left on your lips left marks trailing down his chest. Some part of him wished they were permanent, showing off to all that could see, and they would know exactly who he belonged to. You dipped your hand into his waistband, asking, "What color?" "Green, very green," he choked out as your breath ghosted across his abdomen. You looked so beautiful, kneeled on the floor in front of him, taking care of him so gently and treating him so sweetly that he could feel his cock begin to harden again.

You looked up into his eyes as you pulled his pants down. He let out a soft sigh of relief as he was uncaged from his unfortunate trouser situation. His cock flipped down out of his pants, nearly smacking you in the forehead as you looked up at it in awe. Even though it was only semi-hard, it was bigger than any you had ever seen before. Spencer looked down at you shyly "it's not that much, I-I know but I've been researching techniques to make up for it in order to give sufficient pleasure for you- I mean for whatever partners I may have, not that I am saying that I won't please you, I dream of pleasuring you! ... I'm digging myself a hole aren't I."He rambled, rubbing the back of his neck worriedly. "Spencer, you are huge. Way more than I have ever had before. See?" You said, standing up, gently lifting his cock in your hand, measuring it against your stomach.

Maybe Spencer hadn't noticed because it was proportionate to his body and his big hands, but being held in your petite hands and measured against your stomach, he finally did see how much he would fill you up. The tip of his dick just barely reached past the gems that decorated your belly button piercing. "W-Woah." He said growing harder at the thought of pushing so deep into you. He looked up to your face, which was preoccupied with looking down at how far he would reach up in you.

Tearing your eyes away from him and up to his own, you flushed, knowing that he had caught you staring. "What would you like me to do next?" You spoke softly. Despite being the only two in the room, you two both talked in hushed tones, worrying that anything more than that would burst the delicate bubble you two had created. "Can we match?" He said, and you instantly understood him, despite the odd vernacular. You began to slip off your shirt, but he stopped you with an arm on your shoulder. "C-Can I do it?" He said shyly. "Of course, pretty baby," you barely get out before he drifted his hands under your tank.

He slowly lifted your top over your head as he took in the soft smooth feeling of your skin against his, goosebumps pricking up wherever his fingers trailed. You stood in front of him, shirtless as he took in your form. He had imagined what your breasts would look like. Nipples always hard due to your piercings, what your jewelry would look like, but nothing could prepare him for the glimmering moonstone gems that adorned your nipples and navel. Everything matched exactly, including the delicate necklace you wore around your neck.

The only thing he liked more than the perfection of your body was the features that made you, you. Some might call them imperfections, but to Spencer, all he could see in you was beauty. The gentle bruises on your skin from tangles with unsubs, the soft stretch marks that adorned your hips like little valleys and winding rivers, the slight blemishes, and hairs. He loved it because you were the embodiment of the confidence he wished for in himself. While he was always nervous about his body and how others perceived him, you loved yourself for exactly who you were, and you loved him for exactly who he was.

He pulled down your pants, gently following the twist and turn of the stretch marks as they winded down your hips, making sure to kneel down to pull them all the way off of you as you delicately stepped out, gently grabbing onto his hair to keep your balance as you swayed. He moaned softly at the gentle tug of your fingers while he stared up at you in awe. You took his hand in yours, coaxing him to stand.

You both stood there, taking in each other's forms for a moment, hands still connected as if by a thread at the pinky before you spoke. "We shouldn't waste water. Let me clean you off, sweetheart." He nodded before following after you into the gentle spray of the shower, steam now filling the room. He marveled at the way that the water droplets cascaded down your body, gently running down your curves. "Come here," you said, pulling him into a gentle embrace under the hot water.

Your two bodies pressed gently together, and Spencer couldn't help but think that you were molded for each other. Not in the way that a sculptor may stick two unmatched pieces of clay together with slip, more like one rock that had been split by the earth finally returning together. Something about your touch felt like home as you gently cradled him under the water.

He was so enthralled in your being that he didn't notice you gently scrubbing him with a washcloth until the scent of your body wash permeated the air. You gently scrubbed his back, washing off the sweat of the day and replacing it with you. He melted into you as your hands reached up, lathering his hair with shampoo. He wasn't sure if it was because he realized you should probably be getting washed too or because he desperately wanted to ride his hands along the planes of your body, but he decided to lather up his hands and wash you as well. "You are such a good boy. Thank you for cleaning me up" You said, resting your head gently on his chest, softly swirling the soap around his back, now finished scrubbing all you could from that angle, waiting to turn him around.

He moved carefully, avoiding your butt, still too nervous to touch. "Make sure you get everything, sweet boy. I like to be clean when I go to bed." You said, gently grabbing his hand and pulling it down to cup your butt. He inhales a sharp breath as he indulged in a gentle squeeze, continuing to wash you. He washed your back but his hands would occasionally drift down to your ass, growing more confident as he unknowingly rocked into you slightly with every squeeze, letting out soft keening noises.

You peeled yourself off of him as he rutted into the air, whining at the loss of friction. "Slow down, naughty boy. Bad boys don't get to touch. Are you a bad boy?" you asked as you placed a finger on the tip of his cock, swirling it in the precum pooling there despite the water's efforts to wash it off. "No, no! I'm a good boy! You're just so pretty, and you feel so good, and you smell so nice, and I wanna touch you, and I want you to touch me, please." He blurted out, looking at you with hungry eyes, begging for more friction. "Where do you want to touch me baby?" you asked as his eyes raked over your body, taking in all of his options. "I want to touch your boobies and your- your-" "My what? You can say it, naughty boy." You cut him off in his stammering. "Your pussy, I want to touch your pussy." He said, the hot water spreading the blush from his cheeks down his chest, tingeing his cock with a pretty pink hue. "What naughty words from such a pretty boy. You can touch-" he cut you off, lunging towards your body before you grabbed him by the throat, squeezing experimentally. Not too hard, not too soft. He moaned, and you felt the vibrations traveling up your hands."Let me finish what I was saying. Naughty boys don't get to touch. They get spanked." You said as he mewled." What I was going to say before I was so rudely interrupted was that you can touch, AFTER I wash you and after you finish washing me. Only after, you got it?" you said, squeezing a little tighter. "Y-yes." he croaked out. "Good boy," you replied.

You washed out the shampoo in his hair, replacing it with conditioner as he did the same for you. You squirted more soap onto your washcloth, preparing to test him. You took the washcloth in your hand, slowly working over his legs, arms, and chest, teasingly brushing over his overspent cock before returning to cleaning him. He washed you thoroughly, taking care to wash your legs before making sure your stomach and belly button piercing were thoroughly cleaned. Finally, he reached up to wash the leftover makeup off of your face. He touched you like a porcelain doll, worried that you would crack under even the slightest pressure, making you giggle. He flinched, thinking he hurt you, but you grabbed his face in your hands, delivering him a kiss that covered his face in soap.

You both stood there, laughing for a second, relishing the moment before you let out a shy smile. "You can touch my chest now, but make sure you clean my piercings carefully." He looked down at your chest, and now that he'd been given permission, he didn't really know what to do. You could see the puzzled look on his face so you grabbed one of his soapy hands in yours and brought it to your breast. He squeezed experimentally, and you let out a gentle moan. You had been keeping in your arousal to draw out his teasing, but you couldn't hold yourself back as you felt his large hands grasp around your chest and roll your nipple in his fingers.

There was a sweet dichotomy in the harshness of his grasp on your boob, coupled with the gentle twist of your nipple. It was as if he was worried to hurt your piercings, so he made up for it in his grasp. You brought the washcloth down to his cock, hard against his stomach, and began to work him. He whined at the harsh material. "I need to clean you up, baby. You still have a cummy cock. If you beg hard enough when I'm done, I will touch you." You said into his ear as he rested his head on your shoulder.

He was overstimulated, and you could tell, so you decided you wouldn't take as long as you wanted to tease him. But you would still draw it out for your own pleasure. He was bucking and mewling into you as you roughly got him off. It shot you straight to your core, the heat from the shower mixed with his grasp on you, physically and visually, had you closer than you wanted, and deep down you just wanted him to touch you.

When you deemed him clean enough you let the rag drop to the floor. "Beg" you moaned out. "Please, please touch me, I want your hand on me, that's all I want." He whined, bucking into the air. You took pity on him, grasping him with your soap-covered hand. He hissed as your soft touch replaced the rough rag and you could tell he was close. "Touch me, Spencer." You said and his hand shot to your core. His tentative moves giving way to a natural confidence. As he slipped a hand between your folds he could feel you dripping with desire. "O-Oh my god," was all he could stammer out before sinking two of his fingers into your depths, thumb circling your clit. You knew his fingers were long, and you had even fantasized about this exact moment, but nothing could prepare you for his actual length. He had said he did research but that was proven by how quickly he found your g spot and clit. You doubled over in pleasure as his fingers thoroughly fucked you out.

"Spencer, I'm so close, baby. Be a good boy and make me cum." You said, slumping against his shoulder, rubbing yourself against his hand. "Mommy, I'm cumming." He said, looking into your eyes as his body shuttered. His words ricochetted around in your brain, sending you over the edge as you cum all down his hand. You bit into his shoulder to muffle your scream, just as he matched you, cumming down your hand.

You came down from your high as Spencer nearly collapsed onto you. You took extra care in making sure he was all clean before helping him out of the shower and into a towel. He leaned against you the whole time as you got him ready for bed. You forced him to brush his teeth before dragging him to bed.

He sat at the edge, eyes bleary with sleep, taking in the events of the day. You sat behind him, gently toweling off his hair before brushing it and putting lotion on his body. He leaned into your touch, appreciating being cared for, feeling as if everything had been a dream. "C-Can I sleep here? I mean Morgan locked me out and I don't have pants and-" You cut him off with a gentle kiss."Of course, sweetheart, do you want to cuddle? It's ok if you don't or if you want this to be a one-time thing, it's all up to you, baby." You said, gently sweeping his hair out of his face as he looked up with eyes the size of dinner plates. "We can do this more than once? You'll let me? For real?" He asked. "Only if you want to sweetheart. This is all about you." You said, giving him a small smile tinged with a slight sadness. "That's not very fair, I want it to be about you too. What do you want?"

The question knocked you off guard. You're not used to people asking what you want. Usually, people just take and give none in return. The fact that Spencer Reid, your adorable virgin coworker was asking you what you wanted with such a sincere look, caused tears to prick into your eyes. "No one has asked me that in a long time," you smiled, "I would love to do this, and more again with you Spencer. Whenever you want." He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you down so you were lying next to each other on the bed. "Whenever we want" He corrected, cuddling into you.

You surveyed the bite make you left on his shoulder, running your hand over it. "Sorry for marking you up, I didn't mean to hurt you." You said softly as he blushed. "I-I was actually wondering... well... could you maybe give me a hickey? I like that you marked me." He said. You obliged him, giving him long kisses and sucks, gradually working up your force until a large purple bruise had formed on his collar bone. He was gently moaning the whole time, but you didn't want to work him up again as he had already cum twice that night and you didn't think he could handle more. He looked down at it as you pulled away, and you could see a question lingering on his mind.

"What's up?" you asked, smoothing his hair with your hand. "You said you hadn't been asked what you want in a long time, and I was wondering, well... who gave you your piercings?" he asked tentatively and you laughed." You have been reading my book too much, how many chapters have you read?" You said and he looked up at you surprised."You knew? and... well... only 3 chapters. I didn't want to pry into your private life." He said. "You just pried enough to know I want to get pierced by someone?" You asked raising an eyebrow. Before he could get an excuse out, you cut him off. "Well for a genius, you obviously didn't read it that carefully. I said I WOULD like to be pierced during sex, meaning I have not before. These are just standard piercings from a piercing shop, not a big deal, I just like the way they look." You said and he let out a sigh of relief. "Why? d'you get jealous?" you questioned him. He looked down and nodded shyly.

"I can be a lot of firsts for you but if you play your cards right, you can be a lot of firsts for me too. You already gave me a first tonight. You called me mommy. No one's done that before but it was really hot. I liked it a lot." You said matter of factly. "But that is a conversation for another day. It is 2 am and we need to be on a flight at 7:30, so let's get some sleep." You said, turning off the lights and cuddling up close to him. In a matter of seconds, you both were asleep, tangled into each other's arms, both of you feeling, for once, safe and sound.

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Chapter 1 Here / Chapter 2 Here / Chapter 3 Here

Well wasn't that a doozy. I had so much fun writing that and I think it paid off for sure. Shoot me a message if you want to be added to my beloved tag list, speaking of which.

@spencer-reids-slut @ya-triedit @reidstoychest @flipperpenguins @thatsonezesty13 @jbbarnes-loki @big-galaxy-chaos

[lilxberry]

I Watched You Die} 6 - Natasha Romanoff

Synopsis;

Someone from Natashas’ past makes the most of unsuspected arrivals and begins to cause issues, not only for her, just everyone they come into contact with. HYDRA uses them as a simple puppet and Natasha believes that maybe, just maybe, she could get them back to her in the way she remembers.

Warnings: Language. Fighting. Terrible writing (this chapter was terrible.)

Words: 3,123

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Reader (female reader) (super soldier reader) (HYDRA reader)

(A/N: There’s some time jumps that aren’t stated but it’s still relatively easy to follow in that sense. Also, this chapter is more so a filler but nonetheless is related to the story.)

(A/N 2: Strucker and interactions with him are in German and a small interaction with Wanda is in Slovak as a substitute for Sokovian. There is some Russian in this but it’s quite easy to distinguish between the languages’ used.)

< Chapter 5    Chapter 7 >

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Her head throbbed and her neck was stiff and pained from its lolled position it had been in hours on end. Even with her head tilted forward and down towards the hard floor beneath her, the light felt harsh against her eyes, a stinging, burning sensation appearing each time she cracks an eye open.

“Ah, I hope you slept well, Miss Romanoff.”

The familiarity in the voice caused Natasha to tense and she willed her eyes to open and remain as such. Raising her head, her eyes automatically lock on to the figure before her in which everyone believed was dead.

“How are you here?”

The man chuckled and began to take steps towards the tied up red head, his hands folded together behind his back, a smug look etched into his features. “It is quite incredible the technology we have within this day and age, yes?”

Her features twisted up into a sneer, glaring at the one of the few notorious HYDRA leaders they, the Avengers, had come to face. “Why can’t people just stay dead?”

Strucker rounded her body leaving her to look at the room they held her within; bland in colour but crowded with technology. “I believe you’re also not referring to only me now, are you?” He clicks his tongue. “Yes, Y/N. Our best asset yet. The twins were exceptional, yes and the winter soldier was successful until recent years, but Y/N is our best creation.”

His German accent is thick as the words pass into her ears and registers his words, but his next sentence as he leans down to whisper right beside her head makes her blood run cold. “Finding her on the brink of death was undoubtfully wonderful, on our part at least.”

The man chuckled as he straightened himself back out, standing to his full height before rounding her seated position once more to stand before her. “How are our previous assets, anyways? The updates Ghost gives are quite minimal in unnecessary data.”

Silence. Strucker tsked at her lack of response and spun on heel, taking one, two, three steps forward before coming to a standstill. “I suppose you’d like to know why we have you hear,” he called over his shoulder to her. When he was met with silence once more, he continued.

“S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers have certainly been a right ganz schlimmer, a large spanner in our works. We run smoothly when you and your little friends keep out of our business. Perfectly running machinery. So, we’re simply removing the issue with our operation. You.” (Fucking pain.)

Slow and intimidating were his steps as he little by little made his way over towards a board of panels which, much like every other piece of technology was surrounded by people in off-white lab coats. His fingers danced over the multiple of buttons that littered the deck of the panel.

“You may not think so yourself but, we believe you are the strongest of your little band of heroes. No, not physically. Mentally? Yes. We also believe, if we break you, the rest of the team will surely follow in crumbling down.”

His eyes linger on one spot in particular on the panel, his finger hovering over it. “Now you’re also wondering why I’m electing to tell you all this. The answer is simple, really.” He pushes down on a button, resulting in the chair that Natasha is strapped to, to recline backwards, much like a chair in a barbers’, before laying her flat.

“You’re stuck here.”

Natashas’ head looks from left to right in a frantic manner as Strucker steps away from the lengthy panel of buttons and stalks towards her, his boots quietly squeaking against the cold, smooth floor of the room.

Above her is some form of machinery she could best describe as terrifying in appearance, harsh glinting metal and a mass of wires. Movement to both her left and right signify to her that people are beginning to close in on her and surround her. Panic rises in her body further as someone steps closer to her head holding what she believed was a mouth guard; something she’ll be biting down on.

She shakes her head in a desperate attempt to avoid the object but with no such luck. Someone had violently grasped her jaw in a bruising grip and forced the guard into her mouth. Strucker leans over her laying form and the evil grin on his face is purely sickening.

“Have you ever felt 450 volts of electricity surged through your body before? No? Oh, don’t worry. IT should be over before you know it.” He pulls back, making Natasha follow his with her eyes. Her protests are muffled by the guard in her mouth. “But, please, be mindful when it comes to the convulsions that follow. You wouldn’t like to break a bone, surely.”

Strucker walks towards yet another panel, this time with AMP and voltage gages along with other gages she couldn’t quite make out from her position. He places his hand atop a dial and nods his head once to one of the many people scuttling around the room. She feels something be attached to each temple and it reminds her strongly of the old school, brutal electroshock therapy that doctors used to dole out.

“Shall we move this along and see how long it takes until you break?”

Natasha spots your body stood stiff and squared near the door at the foot of the room, features lacking any show of emotion. Her eyes widened, and she desperately hoped that her eyes asked what she couldn’t.

‘Help me.’

Your being, unmoving and unchanged, is the last thing she sees before searing hot pain shots through her body. She bites down on the guard and releases and ear-piercing scream around it as her whole-body tenses and her back arches up, fists clenched tightly, and toes curled.

Her body falls limp for a short moment before the process repeats, over and over. Like an unending, destructive cycle.

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The team had tirelessly put in every effort to find the missing ex-assassin. When Natasha had taken too long to return to the others, Clint did what was asked of him. He waited until the end of the following day when she had left before telling the others.

With no sightings and no communication from the Avenger, they were at a lost.

4 days had passed, coming close to 5, with no such luck in finding Natasha. Every member of the close-knit team had put in hours and hours on end into locating her; everything had been fruitless. The team had chewed out the archer for not mentioning anything sooner than he had but he had argued that he valued his word and believed Natsha would be fine, that she could look after herself.

They couldn’t argue with him on that.

“I’ve got nothing. We haven’t found shit and it’s been what? 4 days since anyone had last seen her?”

Their hopes in finding her were dwindling quickly, its rate in decrease sped up after the three-day mark. Stark groaned and leant back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose tightly between his pointer finger and thumb.

“Honestly, I blame Fury for making us use phones that I can’t hack. We’d find her a lot fucking faster if I could just get into it.”

“Language,” Steve muttered before releasing a lengthy sigh. As he went to open his mouth to respond, Tony perked up, this time looking extremely more optimistic than previous.

“HOLY SHIT!” He spun his chair to face the computer on the desk and began to rapid begin typing. The others watched him with scepticism before slowly moving to crowd the billionaire.

“You wanna explain to the class, Stark?”

“You know how I never listen to Fury?” He heard a collective of hums in agreement before continuing. “Well, when I was encrypting the phones we all use, I may have purposefully left out my location cloaking software.”

“So, you’re saying you can ping her location and you failed to mention this?!” Wanda exclaimed.

“One, ouch. Don’t scream in my ear like a damn banshee, Matilda. Two, I forgot. It’s not like we actually use it.”

The team watched in anticipation as Tonys’ fingers continued to rapidly tap at the keyboard. Moments pass by with bated breaths before a small red dot appears on a map that pops up. They stare at the bright red dot in a prolonged silence before Steve straightens out with a hardened face.

“Let’s move.”

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“I don’t understand. Why San Fransico?”

The statement from Sam was what each of them wanted to voice but none did. Each step through the city was following that damn pinged location. The day before it had been in Washington, the day before that was Oklahoma.

They could be tracking a ghost trail for all they knew, certainly with how quickly the location seemed to switch between states so quickly.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. Update.”

“Location has remained the same. The Railway Museum is just one block away, sir.”

Tony rolls his shoulders before turning to look towards those who walk with him. He and Steve share a look, already knowing that this is more than likely a trap or mislead.

“Only a few of us will enter. Everyone else is going to surround the building, cover each possible exit. Buck, I want you with me, Sam and Wanda. Clint, you think you can take to a nearby building keep an eye on the roof and the main entrance?”

Clint nodded as Steve doled out orders for the group to follow. With the archers’ non-verbal confirmation, the captain continued.

“Thor, I want you to take the West side of the building with Banner. Pietro, you take East. Stark, I want you to take the back with Vision.” Everyone nods followed by them splitting off in the direction of the respective positions.

Dressed as civilians was helpful with entering the museum; they turned no heads when entering the building. The four inside had separated themselves, hoping to search the interior in record time rather than they be grouped up together.

The comms the team had donned before splitting ways crackled before Tony’s voice sounded through into each team members’ ear. “I’ve had F.R.I.D.A.Y. put the location on each of your phones, make it easier for you guys to know if you’re closing in.”

Simultaneously, Steve, Sam, Wanda and Bucky pull out their smartphones and allow the screen to open up correctly, a simple map of the interior showing a blinking red dot in the centre of the building.

The small team inside opposed to those outside slowly close in to the centre of the museum, covering all sides.

Adrenaline begins to heighten as they inch their way closer and closer. Emotions are running high and minds are swirling with possibilities and before they knew it, they surround the exhibit at the very middle of the building.

A large group being led by some guide moves on with their tour and reveals a lone person still stood there; hood up and phone in hand. Steve glances down at the phone in his own hand and sure enough, the dot hasn’t moved.

This is what they’ve been chasing.

With their head down, both Sam and Bucky who face their front can’t identify who holds the phone, Natashas’ phone.

Between the four, a look was shared and with a nod of their head in the figure’s direction, they begin to slowly close in once more. Wanda, Sam and Bucky slow to a stop, only a short distance away as Steve continues to stalk closer and with a few more steps, he’s stood behind the figure.

He reaches an arm out and clamps his hand down on their shoulder which begins to shake slightly as the person laughs quietly. The person slowly raises their head with a shit eating grin on their face and both Sam and Bucky tense, their jaws clenching, teeth grinding.

Wanda freezes up along with them as the figure slowly turns to face Steve; easily catching a glimpse herself.

“At ease, солдат,” your voice rasps. (Soldier.)

You hand moves quickly to clamp on to the blondes’ wrist and before he could react, you bring your head forward in a quick, whip-like motion, slamming it into his nose; a satisfying crunch is heard and blood already beginning to trickle out.

Twisting his arm, you land a hard kick to his ribs and send him back, him falling to the floor with quite the thud, even sliding across the floor a good foot or two. The others had quickly reacted, Sam and Bucky charging over towards you.

You alternate between the two as they dole out a choreographed offensive; punches, kicks, full body hits. The two had been going a solid minute and had done zero damage, even with Steve standing himself back up on to his feet and charging at you himself.

Wanda had dealt with the screaming and panicked public from the first sign of retaliation, giving firm orders to leave the building and to get a safe distance.

The second the first of the civilians exited the building in a rushed and yelling fashion, the team was on high alert.

“Someone talk to us,” Clint crackled through the comms, his sights down the length of the arrow he already has notched and ready to release.

“It’s Y/N.” Just that simple statement made the whole team know exactly what was currently going down. “They had Natashas’ phone. HYDRA put us on a wild goose chase.”

The grunts from Steve, Sam and Bucky brought Wanda’s head back into the fight at hand. The three were being easily overpowered by just yourself and she’s unsure how to proceed. With quick thinking, she uses her powers to push her teammates aside and away from you, the swirl of red like mist dancing around her fingers.

Your attention snaps from the three that had been thrown away from you to the little witch who stood off to the side. You roll your shoulders and smirk before stomping your way over to her aggressively.

You feel your movements slowly become restricted and it’s harder and harder to move forward. Wanda, with a struggle, brings to down to your knees before you could reach her and all you could do it look up at her with a devious smirk.

Tongue peeking out between your lips, you wet them and trail your eyes up and down the length of her body and the action makes her sick to your stomach. “Som ohromená, princezná.” (I’m impressed, princess.)

She takes step towards you, slow, precise, and what she hoped was menacing. “Where’s Natasha?” she spat between her teeth.

You chuckle darkly and shake her head, noticing how she lacked to remember to keep her distance. “You’re in no position to ask questions, little witch.” With perseverance, your left arm shoots forward, grasping her wrist much like you had done with the caps. Shocked, the moment forces Wanda to lose concertation and drops her magical hold on you.

You swipe at the opportunity and raise to your full height, towering over the Sokovian and delivering a hard right hook to the girl, knocking her unconscious the moment your fist made contact with her jaw.

Turning, you look at the trio of men who look at an unconscious Wanda by your feet with wide and worried eyes. You smirk once more as you pull Natasha’s phone from your pocket and wave it slightly before tossing it in their direction. “Keep it. I’m done with it.”

You take small steps backwards away from the four before turning tail and running, closer and closer to the back entrance.

“She’s heading to you guys at the back,” Steve rushes out, struggling to come to a stand and give chase.

“Understood, capsicle.” Tony and Vison both prepare themselves for your arrival, to burst through the doors and go into combat just like the four inside had done. But they waited and waited and waited. Nothing. “Uh, no sign of her. Anyone got eyes on the slippery bastard?” Stark reaches out to the others.

Sam and Bucky left Americas’ sweetheart and Scarlet Witch with the intentions of cheeking the inside of the building, running around the whole of the museum as the team converse.

“Nothing here.”

“Nope.”

“No clue.”

“Nada.”

“Zilch.”

The team’s response came in like clockwork and the entire team felt baffled. Where did you disappear to?

“So, she just evaporated? What the fuck? Are you sure no one has eyes on her?”

“Look,” Steve started. “As much as I want to find them and get some answers, we gotta focus on Wanda. She’s down.” He was kneeling beside her unconscious form and like a lightbulb being lit from a switch, Pietro was right beside his sister on the opposite side of Steve, absolute panic and concern shifting through his eyes.

Steve hears a sigh through the comms followed by Banners’ voice. “Let’s get back. It’s clear they’ve disappeared somehow, and we should focus on Maximoff right now.”

Steve shakes his head and moves to stand, Pietro already holding his twin in his arms. “Let’s go, team.”

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“Wie ich sehe, können wir ihr Telefon nicht länger als Ablenkung für sie benutzen,” Strucker spoke as his back was turned to you, hands folded behind his back, looking at the painting hung on the wall with disinterest. (I see we can no longer use her phone as a distraction for them.)

“Sie werden sie nicht finden können, auch wenn wir sie nicht mehr auf Gänsejagd führen, Sir,” you respond, you own hands folded behind your back. Your eyes are trained on his form as he slowly turns to face you, casually rounded the desk to stand before you. (They won't be able to find her even if we no longer lead them on such wild goose chases', sir.)

“Hoffentlich nicht, Soldat. Es liegt an Ihnen, wenn sie sie finden.” His eyes look you up and down subtly, scrutinising you before turning away from you and striding over towards his desk. “Es ist jetzt zu heiß für dich, Ghost. Zu viele Leute werden dich nach deinem kleinen öffentlichen Stunt erkennen. Du sollst in der Einrichtung bleiben. Sie bewachen Romanoff und begleiten sie zum und vom Labor. Verstanden?” (They better not, soldier. It will be on your head if they are to find her.) (There's too much heat on you now, Ghost. Too many people will recognise you after your little public stunt. You are to stay within the facility. You will guard Romanoff and escort her to and from the lab. Understood?)

“Verstanden.” (Understood.)

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THIS WAS SO BAD LMAO

I just needed a filler honestly so, this will do for the time being

If you want to be added to the taglist lemme know

Anywho, I hope you enjoy

As always, constructive criticism and requests are welcomed and greatly appreciated :D

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Marvel taglist:

@thanossexual​ @iwazoomingouttahere​ @xxxtwilightaxelxxx​ 

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‘I Watched You Die’ taglist:

@diaryoflife @username23345 @drpepperobsessed @fayhar @d14n4ol @srtamercurio @gabbygabbie @lostandsearching @afuckingshituniverse @thea13sworld @nelouath8 @navs-bhat @pistachiomilk3 @peggycarter-steverogers @b-5by5 @trikruismybitch @anxiousgoldengirl @when-wolves-howl @whitelotus00 @anxiousgoldengirl @daniescady @unexpected-character @lgtftchan @mitch-cabello1097 @wlwfanfictionss @gottacamz​

(Those whose @ is in bold, I could not tag unfortunately.)

[juletheghoul]

Domum (Part 2)

I am dedicating this to you @221bshrlocked, I really hope you enjoy this second instalment of Vamp Boyfriend Max and please know that whenever I return to this world, I'm thinking of you.

There will be a part three.

Max Phillips x F!Reader

Pairing: Max x F!Reader

Word Count: 5.5K

Warnings: **TRIGGER WARNING** Max is a vampire so there will be blood talk, some of it sexual in nature, implied violence (nothing super graphic), language, Smut 18+, PIV sex (wrap it up), slight dirty talk, Oral-female receiving, supernatural themes, descriptions of gore

Reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist Part 1

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“And just when did you forsake me hm?” You stared at Ambrose, curled up and purring loudly against Max's chest on your bed. He seemed to choose Max over you half the time and you couldn’t help but be a little jealous. He stared at you with his eyes half closed, blinking slowly and you sighed at the image of your two favourite boys in your bed.

“Fine, let Max feed you then.” You were only half kidding.

“Jealousy doesn’t become you, my love.” His eyes were closed but he smiled, imagining the look on your face.

“You shush, you’re only smug because he favours you.” He laughed at your tone and made a show of kissing Ambrose on his little face and you rolled your eyes. He set him down onto the floor - against Ambrose's wishes- and pulled you into bed. “I have to go to the market-” he cut you off with a kiss. It was so hard to push him away when he kissed you like that. When his hands held your face so tenderly.

“I would like for you to stay, stay in bed with me.” he kissed your neck and you felt the ghost of his fangs caressing your pulse point. Always letting you give consent before piercing your skin. You shivered slightly but you couldn’t give in. Giving in always meant you weren’t getting anything done. It took a great deal of self control to slip out of his grip and you quickly pulled away, leaving him in order to gather the clothing you had mended.

“If I let you carry on I'll waste the day.” you scolded him without any real anger.

“Waste? You call what we do a waste?” he laid on his back, arm over his eyes in mock distress. You could see the little smile at the corner of his mouth.

“You know full well what I meant - I need to bring these things to the market or Mrs. Johnson will have my head. I will be back soon, and then we can do whatever you want.” He perked up at the last bit, like you knew he would.

“Anything…?” He had pure mischief in his eyes and you blushed slightly at the implication.

“Yes - within reason I don’t think I need to clarify.” You approached the bed and he hastily got up to sit at the edge, making space for you between his legs. You stood and stared down at him - he looked up at you like you were the very air he breathed and you wondered for a brief moment how you could be so lucky.

“I’ll be waiting for you my love, like always.” he spoke with pure devotion as he hugged you around the middle. You ran your fingers lovingly through his hair- pulling it back lightly to kiss him on the mouth.

“You better.” You smiled at him, then made your way out.

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You made it to the market quickly and found Mrs Johnson stomping her foot impatiently and you braced yourself for an onslaught but she cheered up when she caught sight of you. She was one of the nicer villagers and you had a good relationship with her.

“There you are, girl - I was beginning to worry. Let me see.” She took the garments you had carefully folded up out of your arms and inspected your work. A frown of concentration on her face as she inspected a big tear you had mended. “Perfect - as I knew it would be. Thank you sweetling, here - for your trouble.” she handed you a small purse of coins and you took it thankfully.

“My thanks - I am always available for work.” You both said your goodbyes and you stopped to stock up on more thread. You needed new needles as well and you were perusing for more materials when you heard someone calling you. It was the young girl you’d helped almost a year ago, you had learned her name was Sarah and since then she had taken a shine to you. Treating you like an older sister and you regarded her in much the same manner. The little sister you never had.

“What is all the commotion?” You raised your eyebrows at her, she was breathless with excitement.

“I knew you hadn’t heard! There are new people in the village! They came in last night!” The smile on her face was half wild with excitement, times like this you realized how young she was and it always endeared her to you.

“Okay Sarah, take a deep breath and tell me.” You half laughed as you paid for your things and walked through town with her. She was bouncing on the balls of her feet as she grabbed your arm excitedly, telling you about the band of thespians, entertainers traveling the country; putting on shows and plays. “Singers and bards travel through here from time to time-“ she cut you off.

“Yes but never this many! Seems to be a large company - they’ll finally put that playhouse to use. Isn’t it exciting?” She smiled brightly at you but you had a bad feeling. It wasn’t the same as when Max came into town, this was stronger and it left a bad taste in your mouth. “Look! That’s them!” She whispered excitedly into your ear.

There was a group of men making their way into the big tavern in town and it felt like someone had dumped ice water down the back of your dress. There was something wrong.

Max was there in an instant, Sarah didn’t notice him until he spoke.

“Good morning Sarah.” He spoke with a neutral tone but you knew that he was anything but relaxed. He usually stayed inside during the day and his body language gave him away, to you at least.

“Hello Max! Did you hear?” You rolled your eyes, knowing she would explain the whole thing over again. He had a smile on his face as she spoke but it wasn’t filled with the warmth you had become accustomed to.

This was a mask.

“Newcomers, that’s interesting.” You could see him scanning the outside of the tavern with a critical eye. He sensed whatever you had sensed, and he sensed it all the way from the cottage.

When Sarah left he spoke in hushed tones, you had never seen him like this.

“There is something here. Something hungry.” To everyone who passed by you were a courting couple taking a stroll through the village square but he was unsettled.

“I felt it too, made my hair stand on end.” You pressed yourself up against him, there was a sudden chill in the air and you weren’t exactly sure whether it was his words or the temperature.

“I don’t like this, it seems familiar but I can’t quite place it. I need to find out what it is and either destroy it or get it out of town. I don’t want anyone getting hurt.” You smiled to yourself, remembering his attitude towards the town when he first arrived. Things had changed for you since then, for the most part anyway.

There were still villagers who thought you were the devil incarnate but most of them had embraced you. Sarah had advocated for you and with her being the daughter of prominent members of your community, others had followed. You had a steady stream of customers who came to you as a seamstress, and an even bigger one for your other talents.

The townspeople were wary of Max, everyone except Sarah - she treated him as an extension of you; and she loved you.

He had embraced the villagers, promising you that he would protect this place. That he would protect anything you loved. You both spoke about it as you made your way home and you decided that you would go into town that night to investigate. Go to the tavern and get a drink to see if either of you could find out just what exactly had blown into town.

-

The tavern was unusually full, it seemed everyone wanted to be out amongst the newcomers. You smiled at Jasper, the old barkeep, you had helped his wife with pain in her legs a few months ago. He always had a smile for you now.

“I will find us a table, Jasper favours you.” Max whispered in your ear and you laughed. You asked the grizzled old man for a glass of wine and some cider, he didn’t let you pay.

The two of you sat in a dark little corner of the tavern, keeping an eye on everyone and chatting idly, Max drinking his wine and you nursing your cider. The two of you waited a couple of hours but it was for naught. Nothing happened - although it was pleasant to be out with him, neither of you sensed anything dangerous. Chalking it up to a loss, you made your way home.

The night was pleasant and you walked leisurely through the woods towards the cottage, the two of you arm in arm - enjoying the clear night sky. You were looking at the moon, seeing it’s position - full moon in a few days you thought to yourself when Max pulled you off the path suddenly. You shrieked in surprise but you quickly recovered when he pushed you up against a large tree. You weren't too far off the path, someone walking by would have to know you were there in order to see you.

“And just what do you think you’re doing?” You spoke in mock outrage, he laughed into your skin. He had you caged against the trunk; his face was buried in your neck and he was kissing every inch he could reach.

“I think you know, I believe you told me we could do whatever I wanted this morning.” He lifted your leg, hoisting it high on his hip as he ground into you. You let out a sigh at the feel of him, hard enough to feel through his trousers at your core. The bark of the tree was scratching at the back of your neck, the little bit of pain adding to the pleasure.

“I think I want to hear you say it.” Your voice was breathy, your fingers running through his hair, you guided his face towards yours, you wanted to kiss him. You wanted his tongue in your mouth and his hands on your body. You wanted him closer, always closer. He smiled into the kiss.

“I want to fuck you against this tree my love. I want to feed from you while you cum, I want to taste your pleasure, I want to love you. Will you let me love you?” He watched your mouth as he spoke, his words exciting you so much you ached. So much that you moaned and felt your sex dripping for him. Your heart was pounding, even your blood wanted him.

“Yes, always…” You breathed it out but he swallowed your words. He reached between you to pull your skirts up past your hips, he became impatient with all the fabric and when he reached your undergarments he ripped them roughly. The act excited you, causing another wave of slick to drip out of you and onto your thigh. He knelt in front of, looking up like he was in prayer.

He lifted your leg and draped it over his shoulder and he licked at your core hungrily. You felt his urgency, he sucked the bundle of nerves into his mouth with a passion that had you frantically clutching at his hair, it had you grinding into his mouth and it had you almost screaming. Your climax crashed over you like a tidal wave and he drank it down, refusing to pull away until you pushed him. He started undoing his trousers, pulling himself out as he stood.

His eyes were black with lust, as he roughly lifted you against the tree- wrapping both your legs around his hips; lifting you as if you weighed nothing.

“Undo your blouse for me sweet girl, I’m going to bite you where you like it.” he held you against the tree as you hastily undid your corset enough to pull your blouse down. You held tightly onto him as he reached down to guide himself into your wet heat. Both of you groaned when he was fully seated inside you.

It felt better every time. It was bliss, it was ecstasy.

You moaned as he drove into you, the scratching of the tree behind you sharpening the pleasure of his thrusts. You saw his fangs elongate and felt him getting frantic. He wouldn’t last long. You pushed his head down to your breast and he bit it rougher than usual, you could hear the sound of your joining and it was filthy, it was obscene out in the open like this but you didn’t care. The pleasure building with his bite and your blood in his mouth.

He licked your wound closed and moved to your other breast - you saw the brief anguished look of pleasure on his face as he bit your nipple. It hit you again. It was so intense you seized up almost painfully, screaming at the intensity of it. Your cunt clenched around him and he came with a growl.

He set you down, his grip softening, he was gentle again and he licked your wound closed. This was the roughest he’d ever been with you and you enjoyed it far more than you would have ever thought.

He was pulling your shirt back up and straightening your skirts as you caught your breath, he had a little frown on his face.

“What’s wrong?” You touched his face, bringing his attention to you.

“I’m afraid I got carried away, I’m sorry if I was too rough with you.” He looked chastened, he hissed when he saw the scratches on your shoulders and neck from the tree. You laughed lightly but he didn’t join in.

“Max, I thoroughly enjoyed that. I will heal. I can draw myself a special bath and I will be better in a few hours. Please, put it out of your mind my love.” You hugged him to you and he relented.

-

He was quiet as you made your way home and although he had dropped the subject, you knew he felt guilty. You appreciated the sentiment but you weren’t made of glass.

Once you got home, you had him fill the big kettle as you gathered a few things.

When he returned you had him pull the big tub into the middle of the room, he did so without comment. Once the water was hot enough, he helped you fill the tub and you put a few things into the water; dried herbs and flowers that would help relax you. He watched as you moved about, picking a little bit of this and a pinch of that.

The steam was lovely and it smelled like lavender and wildflowers. You stripped off your clothes and ordered him to do the same but he didn’t right away, you got into the tub and raised your eyebrows at him. He smiled and stripped, joining you in the warm water.

“Here, rub a little of this wherever the skin is irritated.” You handed him a little jar full of a thick oily paste. He obeyed and you felt his big warm hands massaging it into your skin. He was thorough and quiet as he did what you asked, the two of you enjoying the intimacy and the warmth.

He kissed your shoulder when he was done and you laid on his chest between his legs. He washed you gently as you relished his sturdy warmth behind you.

“Max, can I ask you something?” The question popped into your mind and you had to get it out.

“Yes my love?” He was washing your hair, massaging your scalp carefully as you relaxed.

“You told me once that you’ve only ever turned one person, what happened to them?” You asked it casually, you were curious and he never spoke about his past. You felt him tense for a moment before he continued with his actions.

“Do you really wish to know?” His voice sounded a little hesitant, you wanted to know, but only if he wanted to tell you.

“You don’t have to explain if you don’t want to, I was merely curious.” You meant it, whatever happened before either of you met- it didn’t matter. Not now that you had each other.

He carefully poured water on you, washing the soap out of your hair in silence, taking the utmost care to not get any of it in your eyes. You thought the conversation was done but he eventually spoke.

“I’ll tell you one day, not today - allow me to tell you in my own time.” He pressed his face into your neck, kissing your ear and shoulder, his actions soothing the hurt he imagined his response was causing. He was entitled to his silence. You turned to face him, looking up from where your face was pressed against his chest.

“You don’t have to explain, if it hurts too much or if it’s something you don’t like discussing. It’s okay for you to keep things to yourself.” You smiled at him, letting him know there was no double meaning, you meant every word. He pulled you up to kiss you and you felt his devotion to you, felt him saying what you meant to him without words.

You both sat in the bath quietly for a long time.

---

A couple of days went by and nothing, no hide nor hair of whatever the two of you had sensed. You were beginning to think that maybe you’d gotten lucky, something passing by near enough for the both of you to pick up on it but not actually staying.

You should be so lucky.

There had been talk in the market of a beast, a monster ripping through the Robertson farm just outside town. Killing a few of his sheep and almost all of his chickens. The carnage was said to be disturbing and the bad taste returned with a vengeance, rocks settling in your stomach. This is not good.

Once you got back home and explained what happened to Max he made it a point to go to the Robertson farm to see if he could get a sense of what it could be. It wasn’t long before he was back - frowning deeply.

“I cannot get a feel for it, it’s not another of my kind that’s for sure. This feels more primal, more violent. I need to get closer.” You could see his frustration, it was bothering him that he couldn’t fix it.

--

Later on that night, Max got his wish.

You were laying in bed, curled up in each other when something flickered across Max's face. He blurred out of bed with how fast he moved, stopping to hastily put his trousers on. You felt it before you could ask him what was wrong, Ambrose shot out of bed and bounded for the door. He was hissing loudly, his hackles raised higher than you’d ever seen.

“Stay there.” His voice was iron, no room for argument. He stalked over to the door and listened, you heard it all the way from the bed; something massive was outside your cottage. It pressed against the door lightly and you could hear the gouging of the wood, whatever it was - it had claws.

Your heart was in your throat as Ambrose hissed and snarled, you quietly got up to wrap your blanket around you. Max silently moved to your kitchen to look out the window. Ambrose stopped hissing and ran towards your bed.

“It’s gone.” He didn’t move from the window and you tentatively approached him, needing his warmth to reassure you. He instantly rubbed at your arms to calm you. “You’re safe my love, nothing will happen to you. Good news is, I think I figured out what we’re dealing with. It’s a werewolf.”

You knew there had to be other creatures in this world, you yourself were a witch and you were committed to a vampire but you were at a loss for words. You would have laughed, had he not had that look on his face.

“It came straight here, it must sense us in it’s altered state.” He was pacing the room, thinking hard as you sat silent at the table. Shivering even though you had the blanket wrapped around you. You were trying to think about everything you knew about werewolves, you knew there must be something about them in your mothers notes, where were they again? You got up and put on a shift before digging through the big trunk tucked into the corner of the room.

He came over when you yelled in triumph, pulling out your mothers big leatherbound notebook.

He was silently watching you as you flipped through the pages, looking for any insight and then you saw it - she had a whole page on them. Some of the points you already knew, that you needed pure silver to ward them off. They were vicious and their bite was a curse. When they were in their animal state, they were purely primal. They would tear apart their own mothers without a second thought. Aversion to silver & iron, wolfsbane - would make sense as to why it only gauged at the wood of your door. You had fortified your protection once more after Max had come in, leaving out anything that would stop him and him alone.

“Tonight was the last night of the full moon, we have a month to prepare. We have to find out who it is, and destroy them. They cannot be cured, I hope no one gets hurt tonight.” You spoke to him as you put the book on the table. He listened intently and the both of you came up with a plan to go into the market and get as close as you could to the newcomers.

“Hopefully they'll leave before the next full moon, we should be so lucky.” He spoke as he blew out the candles you’d lit, the both of you getting back into bed. You whispered your plans to each other, vowing to warn Sarah. You thought of little trinkets you could make, talismans of protection to the people closest to you. You hoped with everything in you that you wouldn’t wake up to bad news.

---

No such luck.

The two of you decided to head into town together the next day, and there were whispers of a great beast everywhere you went. Several people had seen a huge mass stalking around the woods, luckily no one had been hurt. You did notice a few of the more unfriendly villagers giving you hard glares and scowls as you made your way through, you felt Maxs grip tighten slightly at the open show of hostility.

“We’re trying to protect them.” he spoke as you tried to calm him, putting your hand on his chest. He took it and held it there as you walked through. You caught sight of Sarah and she rushed over to you.

“I wanted to warn you- a couple of townsfolk were saying that this has something to do with you. I said that there was absolutely no way - that you’re a good person but I didn’t like how they spoke.” She was visibly upset, imagining her defending you pulled at your heartstrings.

“Oh sweetling, thank you - we’ll be okay, they’re just scared.” You hugged her tightly, trying your best to reassure her. “I’ve made you something, I brought it with me in case I saw you, put this on and don’t take it off. I’ve made one for each of your parents - this should protect you. Please make sure you don’t go out after dark. Do you understand what I’m telling you?” You spoke to her as you handed her the talismans you made. She smiled shyly and put on the necklace.

“I won’t take it off, please - be careful. Both of you.” She hugged you tightly and left quickly.

----

For the next couple of weeks both you and Max made it a point to get close to the newcomers. Thinking that maybe if you got close enough you would be able to sense it but it was for naught. They kept fastidiously to themselves, the only time you saw them was when they performed. Even then - Max couldn’t get a sense of who the danger was. You had learned from your mother’s book that it would be difficult, that the days before and after a full moon - this person could appear to be perfectly human.

——

The full moon was coming in just a few days and the tension between you and a few townspeople was palpable. Even before Sarah and other people had embraced you, things were never this bad.

You studied the book constantly, using your mothers knowledge to create a weapon that would be able to kill the beast. It would have been better to cure it but it was for naught, there was none to be found. The biggest fear would be that someone else would get bitten, spreading the curse to someone else.

Well, not the biggest fear - the biggest fear would be that someone would get killed.

——

“What do you propose we do? This is the best course of action. You know that.” He was right, as angry and upset as you were, you had to admit he was right.

“I don’t like it Max. I should be out there with you.” Your voice was soft, you were trying to argue but he looked so worried.

“I know. I cannot focus if there’s a chance you might get hurt. If something were to happen to you, I would never forgive myself- you know it makes sense- I can cover more ground without you.” He walked over to you, untangling your arms to wrap them around his neck.

He had a way of making you crack, of burrowing under your skin; into your heart. You couldn’t help but press your ear to his chest.

“I have to know you’re safe, if we both get hurt then we’re useless.” He pressed his lips to your temple.

“Very well, please be careful.” You held him tightly, as tight as you could and he let you.

---

It felt horrible to sit around and worry.

You made tea, you flipped through the book absentmindedly, it was almost a compulsion. Ambrose could sense your anxiety and he plopped down on your lap, purring loudly against your skin.

Max insisted on patrolling every night of the full moon. He was determined to destroy the beast and have your lives return to normal and you couldn’t blame him, but you couldn’t sleep until he walked through your door safe and sound. When he eventually did you would nearly tackle him to the ground.

The relief wasn’t to last though.

He burst through your door on the last night of the full moon. He was covered in blood and he held a body in his arms.

Your heart seized up, Sarah was limp in his arms. You were frantic, you could see her throat had been ripped open and you held the scream in your throat. He was speaking to you as he laid her down on the table.

“My love, I need you to focus. Is there anything in your book on how to save her?” You took a deep breath as he spoke, opening the book to the familiar pages with trembling hands.

There’s so much blood

“There’s no way to undo the curse Max, if she doesn’t die - she’ll be one of them.” The tears were flowing now, she was so young, so full of life. You walked over to her, brushing the hair out of her face. Her skin was like ivory and far too cold. Her breaths were shallow and the blood was flowing slowly. Her heart was pumping her life away.

“Can you save her?” You knew he didn’t like talking about it, but it might be the only chance she had. His eyes were on you and you could see the pain in them; inner turmoil bubbling up.

“My love, it would not be her choice and she might hate me for it. Hate you for making it for her.” His words were knives to your already broken heart.

“Please Max, I cannot lose her.” You were sobbing then, voice paper thin and up to your elbows in her blood. Her ragged breaths must have been an agony. She was bleeding into her lungs.

“Are you prepared to deal with her scorn?” His voice was cloud-soft, he didn’t want to lose her either.

“Yes.” You spoke to him but you kept your eyes on her. “Whatever it takes to save her, please.”

He changed her.

——-

You waited for her to change with baited breath. It took much longer than anticipated and you almost chewed your nails to the bone. Max fared no better, he paced the cottage while the transformation occurred and you could feel his fear. Whatever had happened in his past weighed heavy on his mind while you waited. You asked him what happened to distract him.

Max had destroyed the creature, it was one of the newcomers - he’d been taken with Sarah and they had stepped out together when he changed and in her fear; her talisman had been lost.

When you saw her skin stitching itself back together you breathed a sigh of relief, your body was a tense knot and you felt your muscles loosen slightly as her breathing regulated, as her body repaired itself.

“She will be thirsty when she wakes.” He whispered, sensing her starting to come to.

When she woke she was disoriented and Max stood between the two of you with his arms up, his body a wall between Sarah and you. He held her firmly in his grasp and spoke in clear sentences.

“Sarah sweetling, can you hear me?” He was staring into her wild eyes, for a moment it was as if she didn’t recognize either of you but a few seconds later you saw her soften, saw her take you both in.

“Max? What happened? What happened to me?” She was looking at her hands, her eyes darted around rapidly and you could see the fear.

“Sarah - focus on my voice. I need you to listen.” He came closer to her, very slowly, approaching her like one would a wild animal. He explained what had happened to her and what he’d done. What he was, what she now was as well. She looked at you with fear in her eyes and Max almost broke. This was what he’d been afraid of.

“Am I going to be okay?” She was terrified and you wanted to hug her but Max wouldn’t let you.

“You’re going to be fine - come, I will help you and once you're fed I will bring you back here and we will talk.” He turned to kiss you quickly, his unconscious need to feel you close was as much to reassure him as it was to reassure you. “Draw a bath for her my love, she will want to get clean when we get back.” With that they both left.

----

It took days for her to adjust, Max walking her through the change. His fear that she would hate you both never left him and you could hear the silent apologies in the way he treated her. The way he guided her through everything like a father would a favoured child.

At first she was afraid, terrified of herself and her new abilities but it didn’t last. She took to it well. Her young age, which he thought would be a hindrance - actually worked in her favour.

She had a long way to go until she had the same level of control as Max, but both of you would be there to help her.

To be continued...

---

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[cuttinqlines]

IN THE MIDNIGHT HOUR II

                             IN THE MIDNIGHT HOUR II

(richard ramirez [ahs 1984] x reader | mainly implied xavier plympton x reader)

trigger warning; drug use, toxic relationships, mentions of abuse, toxic characters, xavier is portrayed as a major piece of shit for the first few installments, glorification of a serial killer, knives, etc.

disclaimer: i do not support the real richard ramirez in any way, shape, or form. this is simply based on the fictional version from ahs 1984. no disrespect is intended in any way. please, feel free to click off of the fic if you don’t enjoy this type of content. any hate will be ignored.

word count: 2,467

a/n: sorry this took so long. im a depressed piece of shit lmao. 

taglist: @kuollut-talven @felicityofbakerstreet @bitchcraft1398 

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IT HAD ONLY been a few days since your run-in with the self-proclaimed ‘Night Stalker’ yet it felt like years had passed. The memory of the event was constantly running through your mind, seeming to occupy your every thought. It was as if your mind was filled only with visions of dark hair and piercing dark eyes. It had gotten to the point where it was consuming you, distracting you from anything that wasn’t the thought of him. It was impossible to focus. You weren’t exactly sure that you wanted to. The part of you that desperately longed for the dark stranger to reappear and tear you away from your dilapidating life was overtaking you. You had almost wished that you would have given in to his demands that night. Almost. Something had been holding you back that night and something- someone- was still holding you back, tethering you to the place you had grown to despise.

Letting out a sigh, you stared at yourself in front of the bathroom mirror, attempting to shake away the thoughts that continuously plagued you. The ghost of a bruise still showed underneath your eye, barely noticeable with the makeup that you had delicately applied over it. You looked better than you had in the days before, but you still weren’t keen on leaving the confines of the four walls of your bedroom, let alone your apartment. You hadn’t left the house since that night. You were sure everyone thought that you were spiraling- He had probably twisted the story into that narrative. You turned away from the mirror, leaning against the base of the sink. It was time to face the situation at hand. You could already feel the silent judgment of Montana. She had told you so.  “Fuck.”

It shouldn’t have mattered that much to you- what everyone thought. It’s not like they had too much room to judge. They were your friends, sort of, but they didn’t rule you. They weren’t the end all be all. Still, you couldn’t help but feel nervous at the thought of facing them. It had been days of voicemails, knocks on the door, and missed phone calls. You had gone ghost. They wouldn’t have expected anything else, though. It wasn’t unlike you to disappear. You were used to disappointing everyone. 

After a few more minutes of anxiety and deliberation, you laid out a pretty white line, snorted it down, and got ready to head out the door. At the very least, you could show up to aerobics and casually run into everyone. By the time you got there, you were sure you could figure out how to gloss over all of the problems that kept on appearing. 

****

The Aerobics studio hadn’t changed much in your week of absence. The faces of the instructors were still plastered on the walls, yours still included much to your surprise. The chairs strategically placed throughout the lobby were occupied by young adults, laughing at something one of them had said. The ambiance was peaceful and you suddenly wished that you would have shown up for work in the last week. The thought quickly diminished as you thought back to the bruise that had been occupying your face. There was no way you would have shown up with that. You wouldn’t have given him the satisfaction. Stepping up to the front desk, you leaned against the counter lazily. 

“Hi. Do you have any classes with vacant spaces open for today, Janice?” You asked the receptionist a bit awkwardly, looking at the wall behind her as you spoke.

The woman looked up, purposefully making direct eye contact. She looked you up and down, judgement written all over her face.  “Yes. The instructor position for the class you teach at 6:30, (Y/N). If you want to keep your job, I suggest you get prepared for it and go teach it.” 

You couldn’t help but cringe at her tone. The attitude dripped off of it like poison. Truth be told, you had thought that you had already been fired. That is generally what happens after you drop off of the face of the planet for a week. “Right- I’ll just go ahead and get set up to start, then. Thank you.”

“You’re lucky that you showed up today. You’re really pushing it with your delinquent behavior. Shape up or ship out, sweetheart. This is the last time you’re getting exceptions. You’re really lucky that Montana covered your classes for the week. Now, get moving. It’s 6:20. Studio 3.”

Janice hardly gave you time to react, as she stood up and began to push you towards the direction of the studio. Her cold touch caused an unpleasant shiver to shoot through your spine. Your mind instantly drifted to your unwelcome house guest, though the shiver he gave you was not exactly unpleasant- You mentally scolded yourself for obsessing over the ‘Night Stalker’, before practically bursting into the studio. 

It felt as if a million eyes landed on you from the moment you opened the door. The never-ending stares seemed to burn holes into your skin. One pair of eyes, in particular, seemed to stare the deepest. Xavier. You flickered your gaze to meet his, the other people in the room disappearing into a sort of tunnel that consumed the sides of your vision. Your heart caught in your chest. You wanted to tear your eyes away, but there was something stopping you. Something about Xavier always seemed to hold you back. His gaze was pleading, an apology seeming to spill out of it. 

 “(Y/N)! I thought you were going to be out for a while! Xavier said that you were like super sick or something.” Montana’s voice rang out, casually. “So happy you’re here though. Teaching this class has been such a drag.”

At the sound of the young woman’s voice, your head instinctively jerked towards it. You plastered a pained smile onto your face. “Yeah- thanks for covering for me, Montana. I seriously owe you one. Being sick was a major drag. Probably worse than teaching this class of Cyndi Lauper obsessed boys.” 

The blonde let out a laugh. “Well, since you’re back, I’ll let you take this one. And maybe take your man out when you’re done. He’s been such a buzzkill lately.” 

Montana gave you a wink, patting your shoulder affectionately. With a final wave to you and Xavier, she slipped out the door and disappeared down the hall with a flash of blonde hair. Not wanting to waste any more time, or give Xavier the chance to talk to you, you flicked the boom box on and let the sound of Billy Idol’s voice fill the room. 

****

The entirety of the class went by uneventfully. Billy Idol’s soothing tone seemed to temporarily soother your anxiety, making it easier for you to ignore the pained glances that were becoming more and more inescapable. You left the music on as the class drew to a close, turning the volume down to a soft, but audible hum. You didn’t bother to look as everyone made their way to the door. Instead, you moved towards the front of the room, letting yourself face the large windows that looked out towards the city. 

You watched as people leaving the last few classes of the evening walked down the sidewalk, off into the night. Some faces were familiar, regulars that always seemed to be in aerobics class. Other faces, unfamiliar and new. They all seemed so happy, as if their lives were perfect. You wished that you could get a taste of that feeling. You continued to admire the citizens of Los Angeles, lost in your thoughts. Then, in a sudden flash, there was a single face that stuck out in the crowd. Unmistakable dark hair and piercing eyes that could have belonged only to the face that you could never forget. You locked eyes with the man, causing a sinister smile to appear on his face. He moved closer to the building. Your heart skipped a beat. He was headed towards the door. Your eyes were still locked with his, nothing could-

“(Y/N)... Can we talk about what happened the other night? Please… I didn’t mean for it to go so far.” Xavier’s voice hit your ears, soft and pleading. 

You broke away from the ‘Night Stalker’s’ gaze, slowly turning to face the man that you had once felt so strongly for. You leaned against the windows behind you, pressing your nearly bare back against the cool glass. Xavier took a few steps closer, leaving only a few inches between your faces. You couldn’t help but flinch as he reached out to tenderly touch your face. Hurt flashed across his face briefly, but his hand still gently came into contact with your soft skin. You let your eyes flutter closed and sucked in a sharp breath. “I- I can’t do this,” you whispered, hot tears pricking in the inner corner of your eyes. So many different emotions were running through your body. The urge to run away from him had never been so heightened. 

He grazed his thumb gingerly across your jawline, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I’m so sorry, Please. I just wanted it so badly and I thought that was the only way. And I didn’t want anyone to find out. The way you looked at me when you did- I lost it. I thought you would tell everyone. I thought you would leave me. I’m so sorry.” 

You had yet to respond to him when a cutting voice interrupted the scene unfolding before you. “Well, well, well. What do we have here?” The deep voice questioned, sinister laughter etched into his tone. 

“N-?” You began, eyes flickering open. You met the dark haired man’s eyes, looking directly past Xavier. He was already staring at you intensely, the usual smirk plastered on his face. 

“Richard.” He corrected, moving his eyes from you to the other man in your company. Xavier had moved away from you by this point, looking at Richard with a suspicious glare. Richard simply continued to smirk at him, looking more and more devilish as time passed. “My little angel, didn’t expect to see you so soon. What a pleasant surprise.”

“Okay. Who the fuck are you?” Xavier demanded, his hand wrapping around your forearm in a protective manner. You instinctively recoiled to his touch. You shifted your weight from one foot to another, watching as the two began to go back and forth. 

“I’m the devil’s favorite prodigy. It’s more like ‘who the fuck are you?’” The other man taunted. His eyes locked on the contact point of yours and Xavier’s skin. An unreadable emotion flashed across his face, but was quickly replaced with his usual infuriating smirk. “I’ve decided I’m here to collect her. Truth be told, it wasn’t originally in my master and I’s plan, but it seems like I stumbled in at the perfect time, with you harassing my girl.”

“Your-? (Y/N), are you fucking this guy? We get into one fight and you’re off giving it out to this creep?” The blonde questioned, his tone demanding and incredulous. His voice rose with every word that he spoke. He was red in the face by this point. You could tell by the clench in his jaw and the way his hand tightened around you that he was angry. The smug expression of Richard definitely wasn’t helping his reaction either.

You tried to ignore the fear that had begun to creep into the back of your mind, your mind flashing back to his closed fist accidentally ramming into your face. You looked up at him with your tear stained face. Words were failing you. You didn’t exactly want to say that Richard had broken into your house, pinned you against a wall, and sparked something inside of you that made you feel so many fucked up things. Was it really more fucked up than what you felt about Xavier after everything that he had done? You weren’t so sure any more. Xavier seemed to take your silence and lack of denial as a ‘yes’ to his questions. Disgust took over his face, his hand tossing your arm away as if it had suddenly turned into some sort of cursed object. 

He scoffed at you, shoving you away from his body. “I can’t believe you would do this to me. Maybe you deserved that.” He spat out venomously, angrily gesturing to the hardly hidden  bruise underneath your eye. 

You flinched as his hand raised. Something seemed to click into place for the dark haired man as he watched the two of you, your reaction triggering the darkest part of him. You hardly had time to react further, before Richard was in front of you. His left arm pressed back against your body, gently shoving you behind him. His right hand was adorned with his blade, ready to slash at the man before him. “You did that to her? For your sake, I hope you say no. I’d hate to have to kill you right here. It would really throw a wrench into the master’s plans and we both hate that.”

Your hand reached out slowly, tugging on the edge of this sleeve, beckoning his eyes to meet your eyes. He complied, looking over his shoulder quickly. You shook your head at him, a silent plea for him to drop it. He was already acting psychotic enough to have the police called on him and you were sure that would be the last thing that he wanted. He looked back to Xavier, who was staring at him incredulously. “Get the fuck out of here or die,” The dark haired man spat out.

Xavier gave you a pointed look, before shoving past the both of you and storming out of the studio. You knew he would show up at your apartment later, demanding explanations for the psychotic interaction that just went down. You would figure out a way to avoid that later. For now, your full attention was on Richard. He turned towards you, dark eyes studying the every feature on your face. His hand hovered over the side of your neck, before gently pushing your hair to the side. His fingers softly trailed down the side of your throat, traveling down your chest. Like a phantom, they grazed the length of your body, sending a shiver down your spine. Your heart skipped a beat in your chest. You softly bit down on your bottom lip, eyes staring straight into his. “You’re mine now, little angel. I’ll kill for you. I’ll die for you. But you have to be mine forever- That’s the catch. Will you sell your soul to the devil?”

“I will.”

[daisys-gard3n]

could we get nsfw/kink hcs for jolyne with a male s/o? please and thank you!!!

Jolyne Cujoh x Male! Reader NSFW Headcanons

She appears as this strong and dom-like character, but she's usually very submissive to a guy - especially to the right one.

Don't be surprised if she calls you Daddy in bed - if you tell her you're not into it, she'll stop. But she's so pretty when she begs:

"A-Ahh, fuck, please Daddy! P-Please play with this pussy, Daddy! I-It belongs to you! F-Fuck, a-aaah~!"

Melts at pet names, her favorites are: Princess, Babygirl, and Bunny.

Make her super flustered by making her call herself these petnames as you tease her, such as having her in your lap and playing with her tits.

"H-Hngg...P-Please...I-I'm your Princess...I-I'm your good girl...P-Please, baby..."

Ofc she's a ropebunny, with Stone Free being infinite amounts of string that she can manipulate. You don't have to know anything about shibari or anything, she can tie herself up with these wild and intricate knots and patterns. She can do stars, hearts, ladders, etc. And she'll tie herself up so pretty for you - her arms and legs bound and spread for you as a knot rubs against her clit.

Jolyne's favorite thing to do is put herself in this intricate shibari and present herself to you just before you walk in after a long day of work or whatever. Her legs spread and her pussy twitching for you as her breasts were accentuated with two star patterns, and intricate ladder patterns on her back, waist, and legs, with her arms tied behind her.

She knows her baby is working hard, so she thought she could let him use her and fuck the stress away

Jolyne also likes having shibari under her clothes as a lil surprise for you when you take her clothes off

She likes to think she can be a dom with you: Being forward with you by palming your cock through your pants, kissing at your neck, and whispering lewd things into your ear. But that's quickly flipped over when you toss her onto the bed and rail her into the next week.

Exhibitionist - she's so used to just masturbating off to the corner and keeping quiet in prison, so she has no qualms about pulling you to the side into an alley and start feeling you up and begging for you to fuck her.

Horny levels through the roof. Developed a medium-sized free-use kink. She'll down to fuck any time and she'll let you bend her over and move her panties to the side to fuck her.

"Hm? You horny, babe? Well, c'mere...This pussy's all for you to stuff and cum in~"

The joestar breeding kink, except she wants to be breeded

Reference

Has a nice creamy pussy, so she'll send you nice pictures of her white cum leaking out of her pussy after she masturbated.

clit piercing, she loves it when you flick your tongue at it and suck on it when you eat her out.

Def loves taking nudes and lewd videos to send to you, especially during the worst possible moments for you like during work or in public. So you have to conceal a boner in public or go to a restroom to jerk off to your girlfriend fucking herself with a dildo and playing with her tits as she moans out your name so prettily

Really into tying your cock up and edging you, her thighs are soaked the more you whimper and whine for her to let you cum or to let you fuck her.

Like a rabbit in heat, she wants her pussy played with and cummed in constantly. Your dick might fall off for how long she wants to hop on it and ride it until you stuff her full with cum.

"Hiiii~...What are you talking about? Can I just love on my boyfriend?...Mm, I just miss you a lot you know? And...I miss bonding time together~"

Will suck your cock under the sheets.

Likes riding you and doggy style, softer sex she likes spooning and you being the big spoon.

She's a sweetie and a romantic, so she'll worship your body and kiss you all over and talk about how much she loves you.

Lazy morning (okay more like afternoon) sex is amazing with her, her groggily letting you pump your cock in or her sleepily riding you and lazily kissing you until you both lay down and cum with soft moans.

Hooks your legs around your waist as you fuck her, wants you to be close and pulls you into a messy kiss.

She likes rougher sex more, make her lipstick smear and her mascara run as you slap her pussy and fuck her good.

Clingy after sex, she won't let you go and won't let you clean her up because she wants to snuggle with you. Kissing you and telling you to not worry about it now.

[andnofcksweregiven]

Universal Rule

jeff wittek x reader

warnings: fluff , smut (i’m sorry if it isn’t super great first time writing it 😅)

synopsis: this anons request basically

There’s a universal rule that females and males can’t simply be friends. Where it came from- no one seems to know however, as much as we try and deny it, the realization that there’s harbored feelings hidden deep within you reels its ugly head around.

Jeff Wittek, a man who some may describe to be as gorgeous as a God but as charming as a devil. His natural allure but timidness factor to the ever growing attention of many women, ones he tries to politely reject with a signature giggle- a sign that, once again, he’ll be going home alone.

Except, he wasn’t truly alone as everyone believed. Jeff had a blossoming friendship with a neighbor, from the second he helped her with the last box on moving in day, to the next second everything fell through the bottom and all over his feet- a plethora of clothing ranging from heavy jeans to delicate red panties. For Jeff, it was like a nightmare, slight pink hue dusting his cheeks, that was until a fit of giggles erupted from his new neighbor's lips.

From that day on, Jeff and Y/N were inseparable. In their world, they were friends, ones without any ulterior motives in their hearts or heads, although- to someone looking in, Jeff and Y/N were a ticking time bomb. Either the final chapter to the romance part of their individual books, or the greatest heartbreak and tragedy since Romeo and Juliet. 

Y/N was the first to realize and accept the fact that to her, Jeff was it. It tiptoed into her heart like a burglar, one who was preparing to wreak havoc on the one thing that no one had been able to possess in almost forever. It hit one evening, after Jeff was going on a rant about how there’s so much he has to do, and that even though he knows he’s working himself to the bone, he needs to make sure he’s growing. The vulnerability in his voice, the softness in his eyes melted Y/N- just like it had done to thousands of women before her. 

For Jeff, it happened when Y/N had dragged him on a 2 am walk with Nerf after finding him slumped over his computer recording the same voice over for nearly 20 minutes- the food she had bought going cold besides him. Nerf was hopping up her ankles as they walked, an almost puppy like behavior, barking happily up at her. Jeff had stepped back to capture the moment as Y/N carried on going further- he had slowly lowered his phone as he gazed longingly at a girl who you could compare to Aphrodite.

The universe runs on minutes, hours, days, months and so on. A singular second could be a turbulent moment in ones life. Jeff and Y/N had so many stored seconds from meeting, to the realization that your friend holds more power over your existence then another soul. Those seconds, as heavy as they felt, had fleeted away like distance memories to reminisce on later. Nonetheless, the universe runs on seconds.

Jeff had been running late for a usual movie/ catch up night with Y/N, which led to her deciding to take a brisk shower to calm her ongoing nerves. To her dismay, her mind must have slipped up the tiny detail of letting Jeff know she was in the shower, let alone the fact that he had a spare key to her apartment.

“I’m so sorry Y/N, I know I’m late but there was about 20 ninjas I had to fight off in the hallway an’ then a meteor was gunna come an’ hit-” Jeff voice slowly went quieter as he spun away from the front door, only to be met with an empty living room. “Huh, she must be running late as well” he thought.”fuuuuuck I need a piss, she wouldn’t care if I used her toilet”

He walked idly towards the bathroom, unaware to his surroundings as the only thought he was having was how much he was bursting. It wasn’t until a ear piercing shriek echoed off the walls as a naked Y/N stood stunned in the middle of the bathroom.

“Y/N!? HOLY FUCK I- I’M SO SORRY I-” spinning on his heel and running out the room as Y/N finally wrapped her towel securely round her.

“JEFF WHAT THE HELL?” she screamed at him once entering the living room, a pink faced Jeff sitting on the arm rest of her couch head in hands, from the sheer mortifying fact he had managed to see her whole bare silhouette.

“I’m sorry Y/N, I- I- I really needed the toilet...” a whisper that would’ve been hard to catch if the environment hadn’t been so silent. 

“Oh, well go on then I’m done anyways” retreating back into her room to put some article of clothing and a shred of dignity that might have been left in her. Whilst Jeff hurried back into the steamed up room, the blush growing more prominent by every thought of that singular second.

It carried on through out the night, the tension thick in the air, as Jeff kept replaying the moment- he felt like he was being engulfed by the steam from how hot he was starting to feel. The beads of water cascading down your heaving chest, your pillowy lips slightly parted from shock as your sparkling eyes stared directly at him. The more he fantasized, the tighter his shorts got- he was trying his best not to let his mind wonder but having you pressed against his right side, your delicate hands grazing his upper left arm- sending electricity through out his veins- it was leaving him dissatisfied. 

“Y/N?” his voiced wavered as he gazed downwards at the h/c haired girl,

“Yeah Jeff?”

“Can you look at me for a sec”

A slight giggle escaped your mouth, as you raised your head to stare longingly into his eyes. “Ok what do you want because this is a really good sce-”

A second.  

A second was all it took before your lips collided into a passionate yet sensual kiss. A kiss that had left you breathless and almost bare once he pulled away. The empty space between your lips seeming never ending, suddenly you grasped at the collar of his shirt as you fell back on the couch, Jeff following as he slotted himself between your parting legs. His lips trailed towards your jaw and down your neck- sucking and biting, leaving something more then just a memory behind.

Hot breathes followed by sharp movements of clothes being ripped off, after months of hesitation and refusal of the cardinal need to be with one another. 

Jeff's lips wrapped around the stiff peak of your right tit as his slightly rough textured hand, massaged the other one. To him, it felt like silk, soft and welcoming. He didn’t think he could feel better until he finally got a taste of you, a broad stripe up your slit, making you gasp and slightly arch your back off the couch as his forearm held your hips down. As he pulled his head back, the loss of contact had you whining until suddenly Jeff delved his head back in, sucking on your clit that a guttural moan escaped your bruised lips. Your eyes rolled back as you felt a tight coil in your lower abdomen as Jeff continued his attack in between your legs.

“Jeff I’m gunna, JEFF!” 

You came all over his tongue as he carried on lapping away, the taste of you making his mind hazy. Finally, he pulled himself up towards your face, your eyes hooded as you tried to catch your breath.

He placed a light kiss to the top of your head has he stroked your hair backwards, whispering and “are you ok?” to your hairline.

He was going to ask if you wanted to go on before he felt your hand wrap itself around his dick, slowly moving your hand up and down as you placed the tip against your entrance. Looking into your eyes for any shred of hesitance, but being instead met with lust. He kept the eye contact as he pushed himself further inside, a sharp intake of breathe being held inside your lungs as your walls enveloped around him. He didn’t start moving until you let the breathe out, followed by a slight nod.

He built up his speed start slow and hard before hammering into you, the tip of his dick hitting the spot you needed him too. Both of your moans harmonizing as the air carried them in the room, along with skin slapping. Jeff was insatiable. To him, you were like a new vice, one that he intends on never dropping. The constrictions of your walls felt like heaven as you gripped onto his dick, your groans and breaths becoming shallow and shaky as you neared your peak. A final hip shattering thrust, made you coat Jeff’s dick as he slowed down, nearing his own finish as his breathing became ragged until, at last, he pulled out and released on your stomach.

He collapsed beside you as your labored breathing filled the silence- the movie long finished. 

“Wow, I really wasn’t expecting that” you half heartedly chuckled, as you cuddled back into Jeff’s side, head resting on his chest.

Your head bounced as Jeff’s laugh echoed in his chest. “If I’m being honest y/n/n, neither did I”

“So what now Jeff? Can’t exactly pretend this didn’t happen” resting your chin on his chest, waiting to see his deep brown eyes that turned golden in the Sun light.

“Lets not then” he responded nonchalantly as your eyebrows crumpled together, his gaze averting away from the barren ceiling to yours, a smile gracing his lips as a deep emotion of love clouded his eyes “This is a second I never want to forget”

[hanazou]

Hi, could I request headcanons for chuuya with a s/o who loves giving genuine compliments whenever they see him, they just can't keep it inside for example whenever they see chuuya they go like"you are so beautiful" and some cheesy shit like that😩✋🏻

𝘾𝙝𝙪𝙪𝙮𝙖 𝙒𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝘼 𝙑𝙚𝙧𝙗𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝘼𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧

Word Count : 1.4K

Shelf : Hardback

Genre : Fluff, romance

Note : of course u can darling. smooches xx 💗 he needs it to help with his abandonment issues anyways <3 i hope u enjoy this one ! I still need to practice for Chuuya, I'm not fluent with him as I am with Dazai and Fyodor

There are three approaches to observe how Chuuya reacts and behaves around you; his initial feelings, his first physical reflex, and how he adapts with your behaviour.

Chuuya doesn’t fare well with verbal affection before you start doing this with him. Your frequent compliments will soon stretch his heart’s capacity to be more flexible in both accepting and giving heartfelt compliments, but of course, it has to start slowly.

At first, Chuuya is definitely perplexed and transparently flustered.

If your affections with him start with something subtle, like “I like today’s cologne” or “That was manly of you” Chuuya is still able to afford to mutter a tangled “Huh, thank you” albeit not looking at you in the eyes.

But when it gets more intimate like “Your presence is always so comforting” or “I can always trust you to have my back” and cheesy things like that…

The first thing Chuuya thinks of is why the hell you’re so intent on killing him with embarrassment.

“Why did you say that out of the blue?!”

But should there be a reason? Can’t you just be affectionate with your own boyfriend?

When you say that to him, he stops working.

If your compliments are really, super, cheesy, the type that sends shivers down the bone, Chuuya’s face is a mix of confusion, bewilderment, embarrassment, and slight repulse.

Don’t be offended though, he’s simply not good at taking compliments.

Chuuya wraps his upper arms as if he’s chilly while he stares at you, shocked and dumbfounded, with a face that’s the physical manifestation of “what the f*ck?”.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

If it keeps going on and on for days, he just hisses and clicks his tongue while hiding his red face

There's going to be a stage when he doesn't know what he's supposed to feel, so he’ll resort to convincing himself that he's angry.

It’s ineffective and he becomes more turbulent than ever

All it does is make his temperament easier to poke at, and that doesn’t help with his embarrassment every time you compliment him.

Chuuya raises his voice more often, especially at you, but it doesn't last for long because of how wrong it feels whenever he tells you to shut up.

And on the contrary, the more he thinks about it, your compliments actually make him feel… good?

Yeah, good

His physical reflex is pretty transparent and hysterical. It’s really easy to see right through him and it’s not like he tries to deceive you by faking his reactions either.

After flaring his nostrils and widening his eyes, Chuuya backs off to gather himself together and to get some space--are his ears tricking him or did you actually say his shouts sound nice? Who even thinks of things like that?

He shouts things like “Stop joking around!”

But despite sounding frustrated, the way his eyes crease with embarrassment betrays his ‘anger’.

The way he bites his lips, his blue eyes bulging out, while laboriously breathing loudly, makes you want to tease him more to get more dramatic reactions.

There’s that tiny look in his eyes that pierces into you as if he’s asking you to say more.

When he's at his Angry Stage, his voice is louder than usual and sounds just as fierce and he can never strike a casual conversation, let alone look at you in the eyes.

Best he can do is stare at the top of your head.

While blurting shorter sentences “angrily”

That's the sure sign that he's just embarrassed, in case you're afraid you offend him.

When Chuuya loosens up, which happens by itself without your intervention, you can tease him more and he hides his face under his hat. He growls away from you after snarling at you to stop.

No more pretending to be angry since all it does is confuse himself more.

What if you still shout “You look cute when you’re grumpy!” when he walks away?

He literally walks up a random building to get to the roof to escape.

This is a perfect game of hide and seek.

Nothing childish or straightforward like chasing each other, but Chuuya actively avoids you whenever he can.

He finds refuge in his personal office but alas, you have a spare key.

So he goes to Mori’s office without any prior summoning and tries to strike a conversation with him there, a not-so-smooth one, but discussing future deals with importers does keep Mori’s interest.

Since Mori doesn't like being interrupted, whenever Chuuya migrates to Mori, you're barricaded from seeing him. Not for long though. Just an hour at the most.

When he sees Kouyou, he pretends as if nothing is wrong although there’s no way she fails to notice his embarrassment.

Each time you find him and give more (cheesy) compliments, Chuuyal runs away, and you’ll find him again to tease him. A full circle

If you drive Chuuya to his absolute limit, he pins you against the wall, his gloved hand shutting your mouth. Nothing suggestive, just pure embarrassment and stress boiling out of his ears.

“Will you ever stop!? What do you want?!”

Being partnered with Dazai for several years makes him think that you’re being tricky with him even after you told him you mean nothing bad

When you confess that you really are being genuine, his mouth gapes and he backs off with an obviously embarrassed “Are you kidding me?!”

Eventually, little by little, he gets used to it.

His eyes won’t widen as dramatically anymore and he doesn’t jump away in embarrassment. The grumpiness is still there but it’s cuter than it is hostile.

He responds to your “Good morning, handsome!” by muttering “Yeah, yeah, whatever,”

Chuuya actually likes the attention but he realizes this only after he’s exposed to enough of your affections to get used to them a little, letting the overwhelming embarrassment recede slowly to leave enough space in his head (It happens after he covered your mouth).

He’s not the person to be most familiar with spoken affection after living a life full of uncertainties.

Exposure therapy vibes.

It actually feels nice to have you transparently tell him that you love him. Not that he’ll admit it straightforwardly though.

He gets used to your lovey-dovey treatment for him little by little. His reaction will be the same except it’s much more controlled and less out of reflex.

He previously 'ran' away, but this time, he simply puts a small distance between you both and covers his mouth, looking away.

He previously protested loudly, now he just softly snarls, embarrassment straining his voice.

“Geez, don’t you ever run out of those cheesy words? Where did you learn all that crap?”

When his skin has grown thicker, Chuuya sees each of your compliments as an invitation to a competition on who can make each other more flustered.

He keeps your compliments and affection, recycles them, and throws them back at you.

For example, if you say that he looks dashing under the sunlight today, he’ll double the intensity of the sweetness back at you.

(That is, after thinking carefully about what to say. He's not the best natural flirt)

“Because you’re the sun shining on me, babe. I won’t shine without you glamouring first.”

If you gape with your eyes bulging out and face reddened, Chuuya smirks in triumph.

“Huh, you’re not that bulletproof yourself, babe, think about that before shooting at me,”

If you have a high tolerance for verbal sweetness like this, even for super cheesy lines, he’s determined to kick it up a notch to earn a reaction out of you.

He’s going to be a sweet talker in training.

He does all of those out of the petty reason to get back at you, but sometimes he doesn’t realize what he says until it’s too late in which he flusters himself.

If even that doesn’t work, Chuuya gets physical.

He pulls your cheeks, pinches your nose, squeezes your face, flicks your forehead (and is serious about it), or pokes on your ticklish sides.

If he finds your weak spot, there’s no mercy.

You can laugh until you’re about to faint and he won’t stop messing with you

"How does it feel to be on the receiving end, huh?" He asks so casually cocky while tackling you down.

You don’t realize it, but even though Chuuya’s self esteem isn’t the lowest, it’s not the highest either. He’s just avoiding that topic. So your compliments, no matter how silly or random, makes him feel slightly better under his own skin.

One day, Chuuya will ask how you come up with those praises so easily

If he understands how you do it, maybe he can do the same for you in the future.

📜 ; like what you read? visit my bookshop!

[jenn-i-guess]

Pictured Confessions//Kiribaku

Imagine Class 1-A bringing in old childhood photo albums and middle school yearbooks, all except for Kiri who was too embarrassed to bring anything like that.

That doesn’t stop Mina from bringing her own middle school yearbook, and guess what?

Besides finding a-kind of the same looking-picture of younger Mina, they find an INTERESTING picture of middle school Kirishima...

Black straightened hair, dark grey eyeshadow, and tons of (seemingly fake) piercings, jutting out of his lip and nose, even one on his eyebrow, with one shaved line at the crease.

But the cherry on top was the very obvious Hot Topic shirt with what seemed to be a cover of some heavy metal band.

Silence fills the room, heat radiating off of the very embarrassed Kirishima, pressing his face into his palms.

If he was a cartoon, steam would definitely be shooting from his ears.

“Dude...” Sero began.

“You were such an emo!” Kaminari finished with a snort, eyes watering.

Groaning into his hands once more, he began to wonder how he could possibly die at this moment.

Maybe if the floor could just swallow him whole, it would be doing him a big favor right about now.

“W-Well!” He started, reaching out and grabbing Mina’s yearbook.

“Two can play at that game! Did you know-“ Kiri paused, for dramatic affect, flipping many of the laminated pages before he found what he was looking for, “That Mina used to be in the drama club?!”

Mina shrieked as their friends began crowding around the book again, looking at a very embarrassing picture.

Hopefully much more embarrassing than his that it would be long forgotten.

It was a large picture, in which Mina was wearing a huge white wig and a judge’s dress while holding her arms up in the air.

The picture captured her face when she was pursing her lips, her eyes widening comically.

“No! Don’t look!” Mina screamed, jutting her arms out before grabbing the book, slamming it shut and holding it against her chest, a wild look on her face.

“Nice wig, Mina.” Kaminari wheezed, his face scrunching up like he just tasted a lemon, trying to hold back more laughter.

“Oh you’re one to talk. Where’s your yearbook?” She smirked, pleased with herself when Kaminari blanched and shut up quite completely.

Everyone began to gather around Kaminari, poking him to show his memorabilia.

Kirishima sighed, choosing this moment to step out.

Looking around the room, he noticed there was one less person than before.

A certain blonde, whom he had really hoped had not seen the embarrassing photo of him but it would’ve been hard not to, what with Mina holding it up for all the class to see.

He scanned the room and saw Bakugou walking back towards the elevator, jamming his finger on the button with so much more anger than necessary.

Curious, Kirishima walked fast over to him, ignoring the quick chattering of his friends.

Just as the elevator was about to close, Kirishima jutted his foot between the two sliding doors, stopping them momentarily.

“Hey! Wait up Bakubro!” He slid in, feeling the blonde’s crimson eyes boring holes into the back of his head.

“The hell are you doing, shitty-hair?” Bakugou sneered, watching as the redhead pressed the button to their floor, smiling when it made a soft chiming noise.

“Eh, I’m bored. I’m just gonna work out in my room and then probably hit the hay.” Kirishima shrugged.

Bakugou nodded, shoving his fists into his grey sweatpants pockets, leaning against the elevator wall.

The redhead stared a little more at his friend, lingering on his face.

He had never seen the blonde so...emotionless.

His pale face smooth and relaxed, no wrinkles or furrowed eyebrows from his usual spouts of anger.

In fact he looked...pretty. Not just his face, but the light blonde tufts of hair styled in spikes surrounding it.

Well...Kiri also thought he looked hot as well.

What?! You can’t really blame him!

Not when Bakugou wore those black tank tops, showing off hints of his pectorals, doing nothing to stop him from looking at the muscles bulging on his arms.

It was especially excruciatingly painful to watch whenever they trained together.

Watching beads of sweat fall down beyond the collar of his top, making Kirishima wonder what was beyond that line of clothing.

Wondering how it would feel if he touched that expanse of skin.

A loud chime spooked him out of his very homoerotic thoughts, a faint dust of red filling the apples of his cheeks as he realized he had still been staring at Bakugou’s meaty biceps.

He grimaced, hoping Bakugou didn’t see him staring, but he didn’t get a chance to, as Bakugou was already walking out of the elevator.

Kirishima inhaled deeply, shaking his head as he followed Bakugou to their neighboring dorms.

The blonde stopped in front of his door, turning to stare at Kirishima.

The redhead gulped, nervously watching as Bakugou looked him up and down, seeming like he was expecting Kiri to say something.

“Well, goodnight Bakugou!” He smiled at him, going to open his door when suddenly a much lighter hand slammed it shut once more.

“Hold on.” Bakugou demanded, his gruff voice bouncing against the empty hallway.

Kirishima paused, his lips shut tight as he waited for Bakugou to say more.

“Um...yes?” He smiled meekly, his lips not exactly curving upwards.

Bakugou furrowed his eyebrows, his cheeks flushing red as he stammered, “Y-You! You still need help with tutoring tonight, right?!” He yelled out the last bit.

Ah! Tonight is Friday! Their tutoring night!

With all of the excitement of yearbooks and family pictures he must’ve forgotten completely!

Ugh, so unmanly to keep Bakugou waiting, to make him ask like this.

“Oh! Yes yes, right! Of course, my bad Bakugou.” Kiri nodded his head, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, beginning to turn red with embarrassment.

Bakugou relaxed his shoulders, the smallest of grins beginning to show on his face.

“Whatever, ‘s not like I expected you to remember anything with that pea-sized brain of yours.” He mocked, turning around to open his door.

“Hey! My brain is normal sized, just like yours!” Kirishima retaliated, stomping after Bakugou.

The door clicked shut behind them, entrapping Kirishima inside of the cool shadowy room that was Bakugou’s.

Besides being cooler temperature wise, the room was also very...boring.

It surprised him every time Kirishima walked into Bakugou’s room, just the overall average ness.

Bland grey walls with nothing decorating them, not even so much as a poster of his favorite hero.

And to go along with the insane asylum decor, black bedsheets and a white pillowcase, neatly put together as if he never touched the bed at all.

Kirishima smiled to himself, feeling comfortable in the others room, a sense of familiarity.

The blonde groaned before flipping down on his bed, back-first.

“So, what is it that you need help with?” He spoke, his usually rough voice toning down a bit.

Kiri started to speak, but paused as he took a breath.

Actually, he didn’t really have anything to work on.

Final exams were over, there were no surprise tests sprung out by Aizawa.

Truly, there was no reason he should even be in this room at all.

So why did he want to stay?

Stuttering out his last breath, he crouched onto the floor, shuffling into a criss-crossed position.

“Well, actually-“ He chuckled nervously, watching as Bakugou leaned upwards, resting on his elbows while staring at him incredulously.

“Ha, I guess I don’t really have anything to do. I don’t really need to study for anything.”

“So then, why’d you come in here?” Bakugou grunted, sitting up all the way and leaning forwards with his elbows resting on his knees.

“Honestly?” Kiri shrugged, “I don’t know, I’m so exhausted from today. Just having to deal with everyone yelling and having to show people photos, especially mine!” He groaned.

But some part of him did wonder if Bakugou knew what he was talking about.

But oh bOy was he not at all prepared for the answer to that question!

“Oh, you mean that hot picture of you?”

Kirishima wheezed, his lungs squeezing together as all the air escaped his body.

He coughed-super attractively-while trying to think of anything to say.

It didn’t help that Bakugou just kept staring at him, his eyebrows raised and a subtle smirk keeping his lips quirked up.

“Ahem, what?” Kiri’s heart hammered against his chest, his fingers feeling oddly clammy clasped together.

“I said-“ Bakugou shuffled himself onto the floor, leaning closer into Kirishima’s space.

So close that Kiri could smell the spicy scent of the blonde’s body wash, almost intoxicating to him.

“I thought that picture of you was hot.” He rumbled, one of his eyebrows quirking upwards in such a way that Kiri could actually feel his heart stopping and starting at the same time.

“Ah, um cool.” He sputtered before his brain caught up to his idiotic mouth.

Cool?!

Kill him. Right here right now. He is a waste of a human body.

But a light airy sound broke him out of his embarrassing trance, a laugh.

Bakugou was chuckling at him. And in a really cute way!

Kirishima could rarely ever get Bakugou to laugh, most of the time he was the one being laughed at.

Just like now but...it was different. The way he was laughing, the smile stretching his lips.

There were indents marking at the corner of his eyes as he laughed, small divots of skin.

“Dumbass.” Bakugou chortled, biting his lips to reel in another fit of laughter.

Oh. Wow.

Kiri was definetly sure he was blushing now, half of it being because of embarrassment but the other half...

Adoration.

Damn, Eijirou was really swimming in the deep end wasn’t he?

“Sh-Shut up! You can’t just-just say something like that and expect a good answer out of me!” Kirishima whined, balling up his hands in frustrations.

“What is your answer?” Bakugou asked, nonchalantly.

Kiri paused once more, “My what?”

“You said,” Bakugou smirked, “That I cant expect a good answer. How about just a regular one?”

“A...regular one?”

Oh boy. Was this really happening? Oh god oh fuck-

Bakugou hummed, his face going slack as he waited for an answer.

“Well, I guess it’s okay that you found me hot, then.”

But the real question still lingered on his lips, like a bad aftertaste.

“And it’s fine if you...don’t find me attractive now.” He murmured the last part, a part of him hoping Bakugou didn’t catch what he said.

Kiri glanced back up when he heard a harsh scoff come from Bakugou’s mouth.

“Tch, never said that.” He muttered, his face growing steadily pink.

“You-“

Kiri blanked.

His outer body seemed to get clammy and sweaty but his insides, it felt as if he was being burned.

His heart hammered painfully, and he found it even harder to breathe.

“What...Bakugou what do you mean by that?” Kirishima asked, his voice quivering on the last word, staring straight at Bakugou’s crimson eyes.

The blonde shifted, growing more embarrassed by the second. He wiped his calloused hands against his mouth and bit his lip.

“Bakugou-“

Kirishima reached out and grabbed Bakugou’s hand, feeling the sweat mixing in with his own.

He wanted to feel it.

If this moment really was happening he wanted to feel how it felt.

Eijirou swallowed down his building saliva, using his thumb to rub gentle circles onto the blonde’s soft skin.

“I-I like you too. If this means what I think it means, I like you too.” He couldn’t help but let the nervous smile contort his lips, the tips of his sharp teeth sticking out, like white gleams in the darkness of Bakugou’s room.

The blonde’s head snapped back to stare at Kirishima, his eyes widening in what seemed to be disbelief, then softening.

Bakugou snorted, twisting his hand away, almost causing Kirishima’s heart to break into pieces.

That is until those lovely hands came up to rest lightly on his face, palms squishing his cheeks lightly.

And god the sudden warmness of those palms made his heart stutter.

And it gave him a thrill as well.

Knowing that in a matter of seconds these hands could explode and destroy everything that they touched.

Yet, they touched him so softly, his thumbs barely grazing any skin.

“Then, I hope you don’t mind if I do this.” Bakugou breathed out, his face inching closer and closer, his breath mingling with Kirishima’s.

Getting ever so close until eventually...

Kirishima closed his eyes in bliss, his own soft lips sliding against Bakugou’s rougher chapped ones.

He sighed through his nose, his own hands coming up to rest on Bakugou’s shoulders.

Wow, it felt so nice.

So right.

Like this was exactly the place his lips belonged.

Right on top of Bakugou’s.

He gasped for air as the blonde’s tongue warily poked between his lips, sliding in when Kirishima allowed.

“Woah okay!” Kirishima pulled away, chuckling as his face burned with excitement.

Bakugou smirked, poking his tongue out to swipe across his bottom lip. “Too much?” He teased.

Kirishima groaned loudly, falling on top of Bakugou’s knees to hide his enflamed face.

“Dude, you suck so much right now.” His voice was muffled against the blonde’s knees.

“Mm, too bad. You’re gonna have to live with it.”

Bakugou’s voice rumbled, the vibrations tickling Kiri’s cheeks.

Kirishima jolted up, a large toothy smile on his face.

“You mean...is this you trying to ask me out?” Kirishima whispered, leaning closer his cheeks starting to hurt from how wide his smile was.

Bakugou narrowed his eyes, holding his hands up.

Kirishima yelled as Bakugou used one of his fingers to flick him painfully at the tip of his nose.

“Ow!” He looked to the blonde for answers, rubbing his abused nose.

“The fuck do you mean? Was me kissing you not enough dipshit?!” Bakugou sneered, his furrowed eyebrows making him look like a grumpy cat.

Kirishima chuckled, smiling as he leaned forward.

“No no, it was.” He used his hand to squish Bakugou’s cheeks together, placing a gentle kiss on his puckered lips.

Bakugou relaxed, humming against his lips. “Good.” He murmured.

“Good.” Kirishima leaned back, his eyes widening when he saw the smile on Bakugou’s face.

A smile, though not large, but wide enough to show his gleaming teeth.

He leaned in again to see if that smile tasted just as good as it looked.

It did.

[say-narry]

Note: english isn’t my first language. Hope you all like it. Please, give me your opinion with a reblog, fav or a note in my askbox.

summary: She did a good work with H. Lambert and now, reader is the new Harry's stylish. Mr. Harry Styles need more than clothing creations from her.

Pairings: Harry Styles!famous x Reader!stylist

warnings: insinuations, dirt talk, explicit sex, old Harry's band members mention and more.

talk with me | masterlist

never have i ever

Guess who is the new stylish of the famous Harry Styles' band? It's me! After studying and specializing in fashion, my day of glory had arrived!

The pandemic had passed, Harry Styles was back on tour, and Harry Lambert had suffered a domestic accident where he fractured his ankle. I had been an intern at his agency and one thing led to another.

Everyone was very kind, nice despite being shy... Ah, Englishmen... Because I had joined the team, we decided to celebrate my admission and the return to tour at Harry's house.

I put on a black outfit with lace, it was my favorite kind of outfit because it fulfilled something sexy and comfortable, perfect for a more casual evening.

"But what's up, did you like the guys?" Sarah Jones asked close to my ear, she was already on her 3rd glass of drink in less than half an hour.

"Everyone is very nice and welcoming" I flashed a smile after repeating the action near her ear.

Sarah gave a thumbs up and turned the straw of the clear drink back to her mouth. Mitch was already high, he and Harry were dancing on a makeshift dance floor.

Harry was wearing a white printed shirt and dark bell-bottomed pants with some spikes on the side. His exotic style would give me a hard time, but I was up for the challenge.

I continued to sit in the armchair in her huge garden, hour I would go to the little bar and flirt with the muscular blond man making drinks.

"Stylist!" Harry shouted raising his arms, I cringed nervously. Not for the moment, but he was making me nervous.

"Boss!" I giggled and turned to him, also raising my arms entering his.

Harry's mansion was the opposite of what I had imagined, it was something more minimalist with the exception of the bright pink staircase, it was in shades of black, white and gray.

There was pleasant music in the background, everyone from the production was spread out in the garden with some armchairs in the colors I mentioned before.

"I wanted to say something about the outfit for tomorrow's show." Harry said scratching the back of his head next, if I trusted my super powers of distrust, he was lying and flirting with me.

I smiled dull and agreed "Anytime" I smiled drinking some of the juice I had picked up.

🎵🎵🎵🎵

"I think I could tighten up the cuffs a little more, what do you think?" Harry commented. We were in Harry's huge closet, he on a stool standing even taller than me as I examined the outfit.

It was a black and white striped suit with some gold details, it fit his body very well, Lambert and I had designed it and got it right.

"You need to see about the fit, because you stretch your arms out to play the guitar and do your little dances..." I commented unpretentiously, Harry stared at me with a sideways grin.

"You're absolutely right, (Y/N)..." He started to unbutton his suit, I arched my eyebrows feeling my cheeks heat up, I turned around putting away the tape measure that was around my neck. "I really like your outfit, especially the lace, it suits your skin tone." I heard Harry behind me and the sounds of the clothes being thrown onto the couch nearby.

"Thanks, it's my favorite kind of outfit." I commented closing the little box, I turned my body around and Harry was standing in front of me, wearing nothing but black boxer shorts and his tattoos showing.

He was totally gorgeous, his eyes sparkling, his body all designed and his fingers being adorned by rings was something that turned me on.

"It's become mine too..." Harry threw the words out before moving closer stealing a kiss.

Having the dream job and kissing Harry Styles? Was that a dream?

Because of our height difference, I lifted my body on my tiptoes and passed my arms around his neck, I felt his hands pulling me tighter against his body that emanated a pleasant warmth.

His fingers trailed down my spine, reaching the straps of my lacy cropedd, his lips still sucking mine with all the affection in the world, I pulled his gently leaving a few small bites.

"Come with me, babe" He pulled me through a door, which led directly into his huge gray room

Without delay, my body was lying on the huge soft king size bed and his body on top of mine. I could feel his covered member slapping against my thigh, Harry let out a few grunts that made me shiver.

"I've wanted you since the day Lambert introduced you..." Harry was distributing kisses down my neck, hourly running the tip of his tongue across it. I crossed my legs around his waist and felt him pressing his member between my legs. It was warm and wet.

Soon, Harry pulled, with a little difficulty, my white cropped top up, leaving my breasts showing. Shame was eating away at me, but his pupils had dilated, giving me the expression of a hunter.

Still staring at me, Harry ran the tip of his tongue over my nipple and then grabbed my left breast and sucked on it.

Fuck!

My body was almost on fire, I could feel my panties getting wet as I moved my legs. By the hour, I was stroking his curls, closing my eyes for his sucking and biting my lips.

"I won't be able to take much longer, babe," Harry commented leaving me with a kiss, soon his fingers were on the belt of my pants that had been thrown along with it on the floor of his room.

Harry's excitement was evident, but looking at his underwear made me long for him like never before. He stood in front of me, he ran to a cupboard behind him and came up with packets of condoms.

Yes, plural.

And with that, his boxer shorts were flying across the room, his cock bouncing with the tip facing up, it was glowing from the liquid of arousal. How I would like to suck him and taste him, but apparently his plans were to satisfy this desire.

I took off my white lace panties with a little difficulty since I was not thinking very well, considering that someone might miss us and he might be my boss somehow.

I held my panties up and soon Harry practically flew on top of me, his hot swollen tip was rubbing up and down my folds. We both let out guttural moans at the sensation.

"Oh God, (Y/N), you're soaking wet...all for me?" he whimpered, his hands digging into the mattress on either side of my head.

Before I could reason out a convenient response, Harry had put on a condom and was already partially inside my cavity.

It was surreal to feel his cock stretching inside me, a sensation I had never felt before. He was really good in bed, nothing compared to the college guys. He was gentle as he tried to go a little further, his throat let out delicious moans that I could listen to forever.

I moaned as he reached bottom, my legs again around his waist, begging him to go even deeper.

"All right, babe? You're fucking tight and hot!" He whispered, placing a kiss on each side of my cheeks.

"Yes!" I almost choked, "Please, H. It feels so good!"

Harry let out a small giggle, I felt his member pull out of me a little before entering again and again and again.

My moans became a little more audible as they blended with the sounds of our skins slapping against each other. With each thrust from Harry, his member was able to reach an undiscovered location that made my head spin and involuntary smiles formed on my lips.

It was all too splendid to be real. I forced myself to open my eyes and I just had the sight of heaven, Harry's mouth was ajar, his pink lips hung open in a perfect "O," shaggy curls framing his face. His bright eyes pierced yours with such love and admiration that it was almost irresistible.

For a small moment of courage, I put my hands on his face and pulled him into a kiss, Harry's lips were addictive. He reciprocated with more desire than I could imagine, his tongue filling my lips eagerly. His hips still bumped against mine, at times I squeezed him internally and felt Harry's arms waver.

With each thrust, which became faster and faster, my body's movements clamored harder and harder for him, making me pull him deeper inside me. His member kept slamming into that special place, eliciting the only moans of real pleasure from me. I wouldn't last long, and Harry knew it. Harry kept ripping compliments about me and my body "I want to have you all night, baby..." He would say so that only I could hear "So hot, so perfect, I want you so bad..."

I didn't know how to respond, so I just grabbed his hair tighter, pulling making him thrust harder against me, being fierce and relentless.

All my mind and body wanted was for this night to never end, and so did the sensations it caused.

I rolled over as hard as I could and it seemed that Harry had gone deeper, his moans became longer, he had picked up momentum by pulling the sheets off the bed and sinking his feet into it, I would be limp by tomorrow, but it would be worth it.

A trembling began to take over me, the butterflies in my stomach took a long walk there, my toes had curved, the liberating feeling was coming. My hands, which before scratched his back, went back to his scalp, which I pulled with each shock that passed through there.

I could feel Harry shivering too, my walls involuntarily tightened around his member, which made Harry face me and leave a hickey on my neck. "Come with me babe, I know you're almost there, let go..."

And that was all it took, I felt the euphoric feeling taking over my body quickly, the roller coaster descending, the chill in my stomach encompassing. I twisted my body on the bed, arching my spine and biting my lip. I shivered quickly and my legs fell open to my sides, Harry launched three more thrusts and lay over my body moaning into mine hearing a long delicious "Oooh". I could feel his cock thickening inside the condom and his hips working for the last few times.

🎵🎵🎵🎵

A month after our historic fuck, Harry and I had not exchanged another word. It had been a fuck, period. No one needed to know anything about it, nor did we need to prolong it.

I was sketching Harry's outfit for the next week, the tour was already in North America. I remember that the outfit that Harry had worn after that night, during the show, got me a notice in the newspapers and a call for Gucci. Yes, Gucci had called me, but I couldn't leave the team now, so they gave me the responsibility of designing the next suit that Harry would wear for their shoe promo, because according to them, I knew Harry from head to toe.

And I really did.

It was late at night, I was in my hotel room, until Mitch called me to a meeting in the private area.

There were the guys from the band, Jeff and Harry. I sat down next to Jeff and we started talking, I felt Harry looking at me while Mitch stroked his head that was lying on his shoulder.

I decided to just ignore it because it might be me. Jeff and I saw that we have some friends in common on Instagram, which sparked the conversation.

"I remember Natalie came out loaded when we played 'Never have I ever' , she was quiet of the group but had done things..." Jeff blinked putting away his laptop on a small table next to the couch.

"There you go, I think we should play!" Sarah pronounced and everyone nodded and I felt my hands sweat. I always got screwed in this game.

Jeff's assistant brought a bottle of Wiskey, we sat down on the rug in the room and Mitch picked up a bottle he had used.

Harry was on the opposite side from me, set up was me, Jeff on my right, Peter his assistant, Adam, Charlottie, Harry, Sarah and Mitch.

Peter had handed out cups and opened the huge bottle of whiskey.

I had taken only one which was from "I never had sex in college," until Mitch asked the crucial question.

"I've never had sex with anyone on the team!" He and Sarah toasted, drawing laughs from everyone, and Harry turned the liquid over in one gulp.

No, I wasn't going to throw it all away, not now and not ever. I crossed my legs and continued to hold the glass of liquid. I looked everywhere but at Harry, who was waiting for me to drink.

"Spin the bottle, Adam!" I suggested and the question mark in everyone's expression fell apart to form an exclamation point.

They knew now.

🎵🎵🎵🎵

The bottle game lasted three more rounds, Harry said he needed to rest and wished everyone a good night by shaking hands, except me.

Damned Aquarian.

I waited a bit and went after him as soon as he did, I ran to the elevator and up to the presidential suite. Harry was walking with his hands in the pockets of his black sweatpants and his jacket also black.

"Hazz..." I jogged down the long hallway and he even looked at me, swiping the card on his door opening it.

"What is it, (Y/N)?" A little breathless, I stopped at his door and he was staring at me now "After a month you decided to talk to me alone?"

Harry left the door open, and I entered the room and closed it. He had sat on the edge of the bed, his fingers intertwined and his legs spread.

"I thought it was all right!" I started in a mild tone, I didn't know how he would react. "You know Harry, I am a person who works for you, that was wrong!" I sighed moving closer "It was wrong for me and for you!"

His eyebrows frowned and he let out a sarcastic laugh "I know what's wrong or right, (Y/N), you don't have to tell me that." He shook his head scratching his chin "I could have sworn sneaking out after mind-blowing sex like that was a guy thing, but you've outdone yourself!"

My heart was beating fast, Harry had never been rude to anyone in front of me, I had been the first and it was scary.

"Was that right for you? I barely made the team and I'm already in your bed! Understand my side, Harry! I may have broken the contract or whatever!" I started pacing back and forth trying to explain myself.

"It was right yes, because after a while I felt something good besides some orgasm, I put all my emotions and feelings there because I thought you were different, you were the woman of my dreams! But I was very wrong, definitely!" Harry stood up and approached me "Do you really think I would let someone fire you for that? It was something concensual! I wanted you from the moment I saw you with Lambert! Everyone on my team knows my every quirk, they know I was and still am in love with you!" Harry shouted in his English accent, he wanted to kill me.

"You know what? Fuck you and your little story! If you wanted something, you'd fake it with me and not expose it to everyone on the team!" I roared in anger and walked out slamming the door to his room.

🎵🎵🎵🎵

I couldn't sleep a wink and it was after four o'clock in the morning. Harry's words were rattling around in my head, was he really feeling something for me? It hadn't been a one-night thing? But he should have said something! I am no guesser!

Already in bed, I decided to put on a podcast to go to sleep, but as soon as I unplugged my cell phone from the charger, Harry's name flashed on the screen in a call.

I rolled my eyes and rejected the call.

I plugged in my headphones and put on the Spotify podcast, but in less than 30 seconds it was interrupted.

I took a deep breath and accepted the call.

"What is it Harry?" I asked removing my headphones and placing the cell phone close to my face.

"Babe, I need you." I heard his mellifluous voice. "You weren't wrong, I couldn't have done that, but I swear, I swear..." he repeated emphasizing, which was normal since he probably started drinking again after I left his room "That I imagined you would flip that shot and I would kiss you in front of everyone like I've been dreaming about for the last thirty days..." Harry sobbed and I felt slightly guilty, he imagined it would be a movie scene...

"Harry..." I got out of bed and pulled on my robe "You should have sat down and talked to me, I'm not like them, I know how to talk and get a yes or no." I tied the robe around my waist, walked to the door and unlocked it.

In front of me was a teary-eyed Harry, his face flushed with a beak. "Forgive me! Can we talk?"

"Later." I pulled him into my room.

Within minutes, I had him pinned to me by jumping into his lap, Harry sat on the bed and pressed my waist against his.

"I'm going to tell everyone you're mine!" He growled slowly biting my neck and jaw.

My hands and his worked together, Harry sat in the middle of the bed right after putting on a condom, I sat naked on his lap feeling his cock slowly entering me, I loved him and wanted him too, I wished he would be fast and strong like last time.

"Faster, Hazz," I moaned, my eyes rolling back as my nails slid up Harry's arms and down the back of his neck and back.

His head was propped between my breasts as he kept up the effort to go deep, burying his cock in me in more violent strokes.

On an impulse, Harry laid me down on the bed, his right arm supporting his body while the other was pulling his member out of me, rubbing the swollen head against my slippery spot. He knew how to tease me very well.

"Oh, (Y/N)... I've dreamed every night of this pussy!" he murmured "Of my cock drowning in it, taking all your sanity, leaving you only pleasure!"

His hand landed on my thigh and he changed the angle of his thrusts, making a pornographic moan come from my lips.

He had done it again.

"Is this the spot, baby?" he asked, his voice deep as he concentrated on hitting that spot over and over again, the pleasure was overwhelming and all I could do was nod, encouraging Harry to continue.

"I love having you like this, love." Harry moaned, looking up into my face in complete pleasure with each thrust he launched.

His cock was reaching places inside me I never knew existed and points I never knew could cause so much pleasure.

Like last time, my body shook a little harder and more deliciously, as Harry said the word 'mine' with each thrust, ending our reconciliation sex.

Harry had his body on top of mine, my legs still entwined around his waist, my heart was pounding hard, my breathing ragged, and a giant fatigue falling over me.

"Babe?" Harry called out to me and I just shook my head with my eyes closed. "You'll need to have two glasses of wiskey."

He left a kiss on each of my breasts, I pulled his face to me giving him a lingering kiss, I opened my eyes and stared into his "I'll take a whole bottle if I have to."

I loved Harry's smile, but I loved Harry's post fuck smile even more.

talk with me | masterlist

[estrel]

for @ickyv29​ ‘s prompt: Claire taking Jack out of the bunker so Cas and Dean can set up a surprise party? Chaos ensues. 

here you go !! jack looks like he’s in his teens for this one, but he did that just to hang out w claire god bles <3 also falls into transnatural,, you’ll see why (^:

It’s always spooky seeing Jack age up in front of her very eyes. One second he’s practically just a step up from a toddler, and the next, Jack is taller than Claire and wearing the exact same goofy smile on his face.

She supposes the one good thing that comes out of it is that none of them have to guess at what he’ll look like in the future when he’s older. He still looks just the same as he does when he’s three feet tall or whatever, except that maybe he seems a little calmer, and Claire feels a little more comfortable talking to him as if they’re friends rather than...half...step...siblings? 

Which is why she agrees to take care of him for the day, with the intention of showing him her favorite “grown up” spots, though she promises Dean that everything they’re doing will be kosher.

It’s not.

“Okay Jack,” Claire claps a hand on his shoulder, much sturdier than the one she’s used to poking at when they’re playing with legos on the Bunker floor. “Are you ready to be a big kid now?”

He nods fervently and she smiles, pulling a little on his shirt sleeve so that he’ll follow her into the mall.

The grown up spots she intends to take Jack to are mild, at best. She just thinks he should be able to get the full teenage experience, even if she never really did, and he isn’t really a teen. 

The first place they stop at is Claire’s, rightfully so. Jack, like everyone else she has ever known, points at the sign and nudges her. She expects the usual comment about “they named you after the store,” but instead he says, “They named the store after you,” and she nods her head in agreement.

“Sure did,” she says, “how do you feel about getting your ears pierced?”

They step inside, and Jack takes in all the rows of merchandise. “Pierced? Won’t Dad and Dee and Sam get mad?” 

Claire shrugs, watching Jack’s eyes light up when he sees the over-the-top girly accessories. “No big deal, you can always just heal the holes right up with your super powers, can’t you?” 

She calls Jack’s nephil magic “super powers” to please him, under the guise that it makes more sense to passerby if she’s talking to a four year old about super powers rather than angel mojo. 

It does the job, so he agrees, and the next thing she knows, they’re walking out of Claire’s with a bag full of flowery headwear and Jack’s two pierced ears.

Claire would be lying if she said her heart wasn’t racing thinking about the potential lecture she’d receive from Jack’s dads. But it was worth it to see Jack look at her like she hung the moon, a hand constantly raising to touch tentatively at his ears. 

“Next up,” she announces, “mani-pedis.”

“What’s that?”

Claire holds out her hand, chipped with black nail polish. “Nail painting. You’re gonna love it.”

She’s not really the type to get a manicure—in fact, Claire’s probably only had one in her life when she was like eight—but half of these (all of these) activities are more so to cater to Jack on his birthday, and the stuff he’d enjoy (and also whatever would piss off Dean the most).

And she’s right—Jack loves the little foot bath with the fancy water jets, and giggles the whole time the lady is scrubbing at his feet and nails. He enthusiastically asks for rainbow colors (a different color on each finger and toe), and Claire has to explain that he’s gotta wait patiently for them to dry or else they’ll get messed up.

“Do you like the rainbows?” Jack asks, showing them to her when they leave. She gets a feeling there’s a certain importance to the question that she’s missing, but she nods and gives him a careful fist bump. “Rainbows are sick,” she says.

“Sick,” Jack repeats, “that’s not good. Do they need medicine? What do they have?”

Claire snorts and waves him off, “No, dummy. Sick like...’cool.’”

“Ohhh,” Jack visually internalizes that thought for safekeeping, “sick.”

Claire checks her phone while they stuff their faces with mall pizza, quickly answering Kaia’s messages with a smile, assuring Jody that all is well, and sending Dean snarky comments about their surprise party taking forever to set up.

She sets her phone down to pay attention to Jack again, only to find him staring at her already, a contemplative look in his face.

“Uh...do I have food on my face or something?”

Jack shakes his head. “I had a...question.”

Oh. She leans her elbows on the table, crossing her forearms. “Okay, shoot.”

“You like girls,” he starts, and she hides an amused smirk, “and Dad and Dee like each other...but. I don’t like anybody yet because I’m not old enough and I don’t know anyone my age.”

You’re also a four year old half-angel being that’s presenting like he’s eighteen, she wants to supply, but Claire only shrugs. “You don’t gotta like anybody kiddo. Sometimes people just want friends, and that’s fine.”

He nods seriously, eyebrows furrowed. “Okay. But what about... me?”

“What about you?”

“Well I’m...I like boy things,” he says, “but I like girl things too. Does that mean I’m like Dee?”

“Bisexual?” Claire supplies, and then scrunches her face up a little, “like you said, bud, I think you’re too young to tell--”

“I know,” he chirps, and then studies his nails. “I don’t mean like that. I mean...I like those things... for me. Like, tutus and capes and man-ee-cures, and cowboy hats.”

Claire takes a second to think it over, and then it all clicks. “Oh! You mean your gender, right?”

“I think so,” he says. 

“Well all that stuff you listed has to do with gender expression. And really, anyone can dress or look however they want, regardless of pronouns or orientation. But...put it this way, would it make you feel better if people referred to you as ‘she’ and ‘her?’“

Jack shakes his head. “No...”

“Do you like ‘he’ and ‘him’?” A nod. “What about ‘they’ and ‘them’?” There’s a pause, Jack mulling it over, before he nods.

“Is it okay to have more than one?” 

“Totally okay.”

“Then yes,” they sit straighter, “I like both.”

“Cool,” Claire smiles, holding up a fist for another fist bump. Jack knocks their knuckles against hers. 

“Sick,” he agrees. 

Just then her phone starts to buzz, lighting up with a text from Cas that says ‘we’re done. you can come back now (:’ 

She looks back up at Jack with their pierced ears and rainbow nail polish.

“On second thought,” she says, standing and offering her hand, “I think they’ll love it.”

[pillage-and-lute]

Pins and Needles: Part 2

Part 1, (here)

———- 🌷 🐺 🌷———-

“Oh my gods,” came a voice from over the counter that Geralt was currently under, sweeping up leaves.

“Uncle Lambert was right!” Ciri said, draping herself over the top of the counter so she could smirk at her dad. “You’re totally hiding from the twink tattoo artist.”

“He’s not a twink,” Geralt said, straightening up, dustpan in hand.

“Not what Uncle Lambert said.”

“Bertie hasn’t even seen him,” Geralt said, scowling. 

Unbidden, the memory of just how solid Jaskier had felt in his arms. How low his shirt was unbuttoned and how delightfully hairy his chest was. Not a twink.

“I should be concerned about how invested you are in my dating life,” he told Ciri. She was sitting on the counter now, battered combat boots thumping against the side.

Geralt didn’t exactly have a conventional relationship with his daughter. He’d been friends, although not terribly close, with her parents, and when they died and there was no one to take Ciri, he had. Lambert joked that it had been temporary insanity. Eskel said that Geralt had just experienced a bout of baby fever. Vesemir just smiled knowingly.

They all knew the real answer. It was orphan syndrome. A nasty mix of abandonment issues, trust issues, and the inability to leave other orphans to social services. All three of Vesemir’s boys had it, because he’d become their dad only after they’d each individually been kicked from every home the state could place them in. 

So Geralt had taken one look at the squalling, tiny baby, with hair so blonde it almost looked like his own. Geralt had gotten stiffed on the genetic spectrum, and through no fault or deficiency his doctor could find, had entirely white hair by 23.

Now, Ciri was sixteen, captain of her hockey team, and raking in the medals for Judo. Geralt took great pleasure in bragging about her at every PTA meeting, especially since it meant rubbing it in Suzanne ‘My daughter’s a piano prodigy’ Delmore’s face.

“If you’d been on a date since Aunt Yen then maybe I wouldn’t be so concerned,” Ciri said, popping her gum. 

Geralt winced. His relationship with the used bookseller down the street had been disasterous and short, but in the end, Ciri had been able to tack yet another name to her list of non-blood-relative aunts and uncles.

“We’re better as friends,” he said. “Move your foot, I need to get into that cabinet.”

Ciri obediently swung her foot aside so he could grab the florist’s foam. “That’s why you should go ask out someone else...like the cute tattoo artist.” Her eyes went wide. “Oh, can I get a tattoo.”

“Absolutely not. Wait until you’re nineteen.”

“But I can get one at sixteen with parent’s permission,” she made puppy eyes. “Dad, it’d be so cool.”

“Nope.”

“C’mon, why not? And why nineteen, why not eighteen?”

Geralt smirked. “Did you know that your Uncle Eskel has a tattoo?”

“No,” Ciri said, leaning forward.

“Mmhm,” Geralt said. He began selecting flowers from buckets for his next arrangement. Something nice, maybe with some tea roses.”

“Oh, c’mon Dad, you have to tell me now!” Ciri hopped off the counter and got her apron off the peg. It had been a gift from Lambert. Geralt’s own was a simple denim apron, and her’s was the same, except it had “Don’t flirt, I’m a minor” embroidered on the chest.

“Well,” Geralt said, handing her her own block of florist’s foam. “He was eighteen, and he was really into Gwent.”

“That card game? The one that used to have that super weird animated tv show?”

“Oh yeah, we all were huge fans, but Eskel was the biggest. Which was funny, because Bertie and I beat him every time.”

“Oh my gods,” Ciri said. “Does Uncle Eskel have a Gwent tattoo?”

“Yep,” Geralt said, snipping off a too-long stem. “On his thigh. It’s pretty big, too, that’s why he only ever wears those ugly cargo shorts or long pants.”

“That’s hilarious!” Ciri said. “But what does it have to do with me?”

“There’s a lot of personal growth done between eighteen and nineteen,” Geralt said, trimming a leaf. “And I don’t want you to get something you regret. But when you are nineteen, I will happily pay for your first tattoo.”

“Really?”

“Mmhm. I don’t want you going to a cheap placing and getting some horrible blood disease.”

Ciri beamed at him and Geralt smiled to himself. He was a very cool dad.

“Why don’t you get a tattoo?” Ciri asked.

“Why would I?”

“It would look totally cool.”

“I don’t even know what I’d get,” Geralt said. He examined the flower placement. It was even, but maybe too even, he swapped a couple of the taller flowers around.

“You’d get to talk to the cute tattoo artist, I bet he’d have some suggestions.”

“I like wolves,” Geralt said. 

Ciri rolled her eyes. “Dad, like every guy with a tattoo get’s a wolf. Be original.”

“Trees are nice,” Geralt said.

Ciri groaned. “Even worse than the wolf. Maybe you should go over to the shop, see what sort of art he does. Can I get a piercing?”

“What? Oh, yeah, if you want. What sort?” Geralt was a little taken aback by the quick switch, but Ciri was sixteen and had ADHD, so he was pretty used to it.

“I want an industrial.”

“Which one’s that?”

“The bar, through the top,” Ciri gestured. 

Geralt fluffed out some petals. “Yeah, definitely. I’d much rather you get any cartiledge piercings done by a professional.”

Geralt, in his moody teenager phase, had gotten plenty of piercings, several on his right ear and all the way up his left. Most of which he’d done himself with a needle he’d boiled to sterilize it. He shuddered to think of Ciri trying it. Geralt had lucked out and not shattered his cartiledge, but there would be no risks taken with Ciri’s perfect ears.

“Cool,” she said. “Can we go right now? We usually close for lunch about now anyway.”

“I’m not sure they take walk ins,” Geralt said. He did not look cute enough to go see Jaskier right now. 

“We can ask,” Ciri said. Taking his hand and tugging him across the street.

———- 🌷 🐺 🌷———-

I imagine that in this world Gwent is like a mix of Yugioh and Magic The Gathering. 

Tag List!

@jaybeefoxy  @sweetiepieplum

[whythinktoomuch]

(pt. i)  (pt. ii) 

She keeps to the darkness, keeps quiet, and keeps her distance, just the way she’s been trained to. She watches Lena, and she does it quite well. The difficult part is settling on the one thing that she should be learning from these endeavors.

Lena does a great many things throughout her day—often up before the sun, and only homeward bound long after it’s set. But after three long days of research, there’s one feature in particular that seems to warrant the most attention: a dark fleck, nestled in the pale expanse of her vulnerable throat.

When she tries to encapsulate the entirety of that observation into words at her disposal, however, all she can manage is, “Lena, not ugly.”

Lex doesn’t reply for a long while, which isn’t typical of him. But his tone isn’t unkind when he finally asks, “Is that it?”

“Yes.” She frowns, because why couldn’t that be it?

But Lex sighs, and that soft sound uproots her peace at its very core. “I wanted you to bring me a fact,” he says. “Not develop an opinion.”

“Different how?” she demands.

“Well, I need evidence.” Lex takes her hand, turning it over to reveal her palm, forever marked and marred from her most recent encounter with Kryptonite. “I need you to show me something. Something real. Otherwise, it doesn’t count. Do you understand?”

And yes, that much is definitely understandable. Even to her.

//

With much repurposed effort, she watches and waits while Lena does her work. Then she watches Lena take her leave, then waits some more.

It’s only when the top floor of the building is emptied of all people that she flies over, slipping into Lena’s office through the balcony door that’s never locked. From there, it doesn’t take long to secure what she’s looking for.

The next time Lex pays her a visit, she drops an armful of her spoils right at his feet.

“Lena likes coffee,” she announces boldly.

Lex is clearly taken aback at first, blinking and still. But then he grabs one of the many empty coffee cups now littered across the floor, and a slow smile dawns on his face. “All right then. Now we’re getting somewhere.”

She grins so wide that it strains the corners of her lips.

--

“Lena is cold,” she says the next time they meet, presenting a delicate black glove for his amusement and perusal.

“Yes, well, most people are when it snows,” Lex says.

“Not me.”

“Well, you’re not exactly most people now, are you?” Lex’s pride in her is absolutely infectious, so she grins. “Of course not. You’re… exquisite.”

“Good thing?” she asks. It’s usually the first question that wells up inside of her upon hearing new words.

“A very good thing,” Lex says with a playful wink.

Over the last two weeks, Lex’s visits have dropped from often to somewhat often enough, his precious attention now divided between her and another project of his. It’s been a near impossible change for her to weather, but moments like this make it a little easier.

That is, until Lex slips the glove on.  

She watches him flex his fingers one by one, forcing the taut leather to crackle loudly in her ears, and retreats somewhere deep inside herself. She fights determinedly against the frown threatening to twist her features into something uglier.

The glove isn’t hers. It isn’t Lex’s either, but his hand fits so perfectly that it could very well be his if he wanted.

“Not actually all that warm,” Lex comments, snorting when he peeks inside the glove. “And yet, pricier than your average first class ticket to Paris… Tsk, a little superficial, if you ask me.”

She nods as appropriate, but most of her concern is still with the glove and how Lex stuffs it into his back pocket like it doesn’t mean a thing.

//

“Yes, her hair is indeed very long,” Lex says, accepting the offering of Lena’s hairbrush, complete with stray strands of dark hair still caught in its teeth as ample proof for this careful observation. “This, Bizarrogirl, is absolutely perfect.”

And it is. Because this isn’t just a handful of coffee cups tossed in the trash or a lone glove left behind in the snow during a hasty commute. No, this is something she actually had to break into Lena’s apartment for, in the middle of a workday, undetected even in broad daylight.

But even all that and more couldn’t outweigh the very simple fact that Lex has the means to kill her now.

Evidently, a big part of his new project has been synthesizing a strain of Kryptonite that would only be lethal to her, and he must have succeeded because today, he’s armed with blue-tipped syringes that can pierce her skin.

It’s for research purposes. It’s the only way that Lex can collect blood samples so as to better study her molecular makeup, which will only help her in the long run. Lex, of course, would never hurt her.

Except it does hurt. Each needle sinks into her arm in an acute twinge, and she can feel the aftereffects of the breach crawling inside her head. It’s worse than the green light. It makes her stomach dry out like a rock, and tugs cool drops of sweat onto the surface of her skin.

But Lex must notice this sudden unrest living inside her because he lets her keep the hairbrush.

“Mine?” she asks, cradling the brush in her hands. It’s been relieved of all traces of Lena, but that doesn’t matter. She’s seen Lena use it enough times that it’s still rightly precious.

“No, it’s still Lena’s,” Lex corrects her with a gentle smile. “But you can keep it,” which is the best possible answer he could have given her.

//

She’s watching Lena unwind at home from her favorite spot in the sky, drawing from her x-ray vision and super-hearing with an ease that is now very practiced.

Everything is pleasantly routine until Kara knocks on Lena’s door, which is still very routine until they start raising their voices at each other. They exchange some words that she doesn’t quite understand with many implications that perhaps she will never understand. Then Supergirl is leaving through the balcony, flying off into the night in a blur of boastful blues and reds, while Lena is left behind to yell at herself and cry in unpredictable bursts.

Eventually, Lena settles in the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of something that makes the air taste bitter. She’s halfway through her third glass when she slumps forward, her head dropped into her folded arms, breath gradually slowing and deepening.

She watches Lena sleep, waiting until the waiting is unbearable. There are all sorts of reasons why she shouldn’t, but she touches down onto the balcony, sidling into the apartment like a fleeting shadow, and finds herself in Lena’s presence for the very first time.  

The bitter taste is stronger in her nose now, but so is everything else to be perceived about Lena. Everything from her soft snores to the slight warmth her body gives off once within reach.

And she risks that everything for a single touch, brushing her fingertips right where Lena’s long hair starts to end. It’s light, yet stirs something pure, frenzied, and fluttering in her chest. Then Lena sniffles and mumbles into her own arm, “… Kara?” and the moment spills into reality.

Teeth bared, she plucks the glass from Lena’s fragile grip with just enough care that it doesn’t shatter and leaves the same way Supergirl had barely an hour before.

//

She sets the glass before Lex with a firm clack! that calls his attention away from his tablet.

“Oh hello…” Lex sits up with a small chuckle. “And what’s this? Are we celebrating?”

“Lena is sad.”

Lex is out of his chair, his stare wild as he promptly demands, “What happened? What did you see?”

“Kara came. They talked… Supergirl left.” She squeezes her right fist, digging her nails into her palm the way she’s supposed to when things overwhelm her. “And… Lena is sad.”

Lex bursts into laughter. He doesn’t stop laughing for the rest of the night.

//

She doesn’t want to learn things about Lena anymore.

Things are so different now. Lena is quieter, often alone. She spends most of her time at work and not nearly enough time maintaining habits that are meant to keep her alive.

But Lex still insists that she keep watch, so she does, and she still does it so well. She works at it even harder, in fact, now that his visits have become even fewer and farther in between as of late. Lex’s other project is supposedly not as important as she is, but it siphons off his time like it must be.

Lena’s new routine is polished, heavily sanitized, and well-established until the night she breaks it in favor of tasting the nighttime air. She steps onto her balcony in clothes made for sleep and with a glass filled with something more sweet than bitter. Her eyes narrow up at the darkened sky. She stares, as if expectant.

“Hello…? Is somebody out there?” Lena rests her elbows precariously against the railing,  sighing between intermittent sips of her drink. Then, in a softened voice, “… Who are you?” And all of a sudden, Lena’s become tangible and more than just another person waiting for Supergirl to save her.  

Bizarrogirl glides from shadow to shadow, trailing the darkness all the way down to the far corner of the balcony, where she settles in, secluded and silent. Lena doesn’t turn around, but her heartbeat is readily transparent enough for the both of them that it doesn’t matter. “Hello, Lena,” she says.

Lena sighs into her glass. “So, are you the one stealing my things then?”

“Yes.”

“You know… I really thought I was just going crazy. That I was just conjuring up senseless conspiracies because god forbid I ever misplace something like a normal person.” Lena pauses to take a small sip of her drink and chuckle. “But then, you went ahead and took my favorite glass right out of my hand, so…”

She smiles, even though she knows no one can see it. “You are smart.”

“Allegedly,” Lena says, shrugging. She looks over her shoulder, blinks blearily right into the darkness. “You’re really not going to show yourself, huh?”

“No. Never.” She holds her breath, but the follow-up question never comes.

Instead, Lena just turns back around with a small nod. “Believe me, I’d be doing the same thing if I could,” she says quietly, and leaves it at that.

“Not… scared?” she finally has to ask.

“Should I be?”

She shakes her head after some hesitation. “No.”

“Well, there we go then,” Lena says, rubbing at her eyes with a resigned sigh. “Listen… I’m just… so tired right now, and frankly, I just don’t have it in me to address whatever it is you’re trying to do. But to be honest—” she tosses back the last of her drink in a single swallow—“I have enough things. So… consider this a freebie.”

“… Freebie?”

Lena pushes off the railing, exhaling half-hearted laughter. “Yes, freebie. I’m leaving this for you right here, okay? No need to resort to petty theft or breaking and entering.” She sets the empty wineglass right outside her door, but pauses before stepping through. “… So, what’s your name anyway?”

The most obvious answer—so carefully practiced, her clumsy mouth sounding out the word over and over again for her own sake—feels wrong in the moment. A lie, somehow, in the face of Lena’s undeserved generosity.

“You do have a name, don’t you?” Lena glances over, head tilted curiously, and their eyes almost meet despite all the darkness cast between them.

“No,” she manages to say, her fingernails biting fiercely into her own palm.

Lena gives a hum, one so thoughtful and reminiscent of her brother. “Well… that’s something you’ll have to steal from someone else, I’m afraid.”

She watches Lena slide the door shut behind her, but waits until all the lights disappear before reaching for the glass.

//

It takes two more days for Lex to pay her another visit, and he walks into her room to find her turning the wineglass over and over in her hands. He frowns when she doesn’t immediately offer it up to him.

“So, did you learn anything?” Lex asks, and she just nods. “… And…?”

She rolls her right hand into a fist so tight that her entire hand feels like a bruise. “Not. Scared.”

“Lena’s… not scared.” Lex studies the wineglass carefully before directing his sharp gaze back at her face. “I see.”

He doesn’t ask for further clarification, or any other question, or anything at all, for that matter. He just leaves, and she feels nothing about it.