#those two are the only ones i think i've mentioned but there's others that were there for a while that i just never told anyone here

[crow2222]

omg how was the show?? :D

Absolutely awesome. Shame I only saw it once since I can't see it on the 7th 😓 Guess I'll have to cherish that one time forever!

This ask is the perfect excuse for me to talk about the show 😈 Thank you

Now, time for the little things during the show that I made myself remember (and might've actually forgotten some) Spoilers for the musical below, I guess?

-The notebook being thrown into the water at the start, I. did not know there was water there.

-The lights turning off during fights in general was just spectacular to see, the noise of it shutting off as it did made it all the better.

-Darrel going to Ponyboy first after he's jumped & the rumble. Same as the book but sweet non the less.

-Soda always trying to get Darrel away whenever he's about to argue with Pony.

-Two-bit got a hubcap from the Socs, knew this but still funny to see.

-Ace saying "Yeah I like girls" after Soda says "You'd know huh Ace?" or something along those lines in GGAH. I was shaking when I heard that

-Soda didn't catch the hair grease when it was thrown at him, had another one in his back pocket 😭

-Ponyboy mentioning Sodapop saying Sandy's name in his sleep sometimes, awkward conversation to have..

-Johnny just plopping right into the tire when Dallas came to check on him as his parents fought, and then swatting him away when Dallas tried to go in his house, and the silence that came after. Ouch.

-Loved the dances during Friday at the drive in!

-PONY TRYING TO LOOK COOL BEFORE SITTING NEXT TO CHERRY IN THE DRIVE IN, I wasn't looking at them when they were hyping each other to get up at the start, only caught the last glimpse but then Pony popped up his collar, Johnny copying 😭 and then smoothing down his hair and sitting "all cool" cracked me up. Little losers

-Bob yelling(? forgot) at Cherry to get in the car 😬 Love her for standing her ground but Golly

-I was singing along to Runs in the Family Reprise in my head the entire time, also pretty sure someone gasped behind me when Ponyboy gets slapped

-Vocals in Great expectations, ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

-Socs literally lifting Ponyboy upside down to dunk him in the water?? Jesus

-Darrels no snitch

-No one laughing when Johnny wipes the blood on the switch off on his jeans, I felt like that was laugh worthy..

-Two-bit gettin jumped ☹️

-Loved the stage lighting for the sunrise!!!??

-Okay I knew that Dallas would say Pony looked like Burt Lancaster as well but the entire theatre laughing got me to laugh too

-The shadows of them helping the kids during Hoods Turned Heroes- I did not know that'd happen at all!

-The rumble sequence. Definitely matches up to the hype I've heard about it

-Darrel absolutely in awe while reading the newspaper about them being heroes..

-The Socs passing around a flask, holding it up to the sky before taking a gulp and pouring the rest into the fountain for Bob..

-THE ENTIRE GANG being there when Johnny dies?? I DID know this but damn. Still hurt.

-Pony thinking Dallas was just going to get on the train to run away again.. 🙁

-Darrel putting baloney in the food.. yikes! Yeah he didn't know, still. Damn the small details.

-Cherry volunteering at the hospital, that's how she got Johnny's stuff. I knew she was one to bring it but didn't think about it too hard, but if I did I'd probably be confused as hell

-Ponyboy dropping the letter to smell Johnny’s clothes just. Ripped me apart, because I carry sm memories to smells myself (autism be damned?)

-Darrel SOBBING when Ponyboy came to the table to eat at the very end. I did not expect that at all and felt myself tear up a bit (I didn't cry at all before that). He turned right to my section when he was trying to hide his sobs so I got a clear view of him trying to bottle it back up :(

-Loved the Gold lighting at the very end. Beautiful show overall!! Shame I can't see it again 💔

[proshippers-against-censorship]

Hey all, as a proshipper, I wanted to warn people of the "Clovers" Discord Server on Disboard, they're a group of antis who primarily target young and mentally disabled proshippers to reveal sensitive information before using this, along with false allegations of Neo-Nazism, CSEM, racism, transphobia, etc. to "ruin their lives" for entertainment, including doxxing and spamming these things to their family and friends.

I joined the server a while back, realized they were strange, and stayed so I could lurk to see what they were doing. I've personally witnessed them do this to 3 people, and there is about 7 or 8 more instances I could find while scrolling back through the messages.

I won't say any of the victim's names for obvious reasons, but here's a list of descriptions of the people they targeted and what they did to them:

The first one I witnessed was a trans man around 16 (forgot his exact age) who had ADHD and PTSD if I am remembering correctly. They coaxed him into sending embarrassing videos of him back in 2020 when he was about 12 and cosplaying from what I think was Danganronpa (never played it) to turn around and use them to humiliate him, as well as making disgusting rape jokes about him (despite that he was either a preteen or early teen in the footage), and then go on to accuse him of being a Neo-Nazi, leaking nudes, and being an abuser, claiming he emotionally manipulated one of the moderators (as far as I know, they never even spoke outside of the server). They proceeded to doxx him and spread these allegations to, as far as I know, many of his family members and friends.

The second one I witnessed was a girl who was openly 13 years old, yet was allowed in despite that their server is advertised as being 16+, as well as having pretty severe autism. This girl was actively being groomed online while she was in this server, and they used this against her, making continual horrible jokes about her situation and blaming her for being manipulated, saying that the groomer " was the real victim". They then similarly went on to accuse her of being a Neo-Nazi and a "pedo-baiter", as well as accusing her of distributing CSEM (which, while technically true, they were images of herself she had been manipulated into sending to her groomer, and wasn't out of malicious intent or of other children like they made it out to be). Similarly to the first boy, they spread these allegations to all of her online friends (though did not doxx her).

The third one was not as severe as the other two since I messaged them privately to let them know what they were doing, and they left the server + blocked all of the members before it could go down. He was another boy who claimed to be 16, but I'm pretty sure is only 13-14, and he had Autism and ADHD. They didn't have time to do much to him yet, but they had begun planting the seeds for abuse, asking him to reveal personal information like what city he lived in, his real name, if he wanted to introduce them to his other friends, and childhood stories. Once he left the server, they had a short-lived episode of talking badly about him, encouraging other members to report his account, and trying to contact any of his mutual connections to spread rumors, but dropped it pretty quickly when they realized they didn't have enough information on him to really "ruin" him yet.

Also, keep in mind, the antis running this server are all between 18-27, grown adults, which makes their behavior even worse. Not only are they fully aware of what they're doing, but they intentionally target those significantly younger than them to make the job easier.

For the other 7-8 instances of people I did not witness that I mentioned earlier, they were all basically the same scenarios. Mentally disabled minors between 13-16 being baited into revealing info, just to have their reputations smeared with allegations and inevitably being forced to create new accounts.

They also tend to target other proship servers on Disboard, one example being the "Creepcest" Server, which they continually accuse of being "run by Nazi Pedophiles" and being "a Child-Porn farm" (while I've never joined that server, knowing them, it's most likely just more bullshit allegations), and sending their members off to raid, stalk, and harass the people inside of these servers.

I am still in the Clovers Discord Server, and I intend to keep it that way so I can hopefully, like the third victim, interrupt their plans before they can fully enact them, and I feel terribly guilty that I could not do that to the first 2 I witnessed.

I won't reveal too much information about myself so that, on the chance they see this, they won't be able to remove me from the server. But don't worry about my wellbeing, I am an adult and am not susceptible to any of their abuse; my account is essentially a blank slate with no information to use against me.

Sorry for the text wall, but overall, please stay away from this server. They change their theme quite frequently, so by the time this ask gets submitted, they'll have most likely already changed the name and profile picture, but it's run by 2 users named "Jett" and "Renny". So, if anybody reading this joins a Disboard-advertised Proship Server, and you recognize those people's names, please leave immediately.

Do not argue with them, do not fight with them, just leave. If you stick around, you will become a victim, if you make a scene, you will become a victim, hell, I've seen them flame random people who join and leave without saying a word for no other reason than that they dislike their profile. They love harassing people, they feed off of negativity, their entire server was created for no other reason than to prey on innocent people.

And to anybody reading this who has been in this server before, please reconsider. Ask yourself if these allegations they made are actually real, ask yourself if they're good people, ask yourself if they actually even like you, or if you're just another vulnerable person that they're trolling. They're antis, they're malicious, and they're predators.

Thanks for reading. Once again, sorry for the text wall. Read over this time and time again, tried to summarize it as much as I could, still ended up being pretty long lmao.

That's...terrifying.

[scara-writes]

100% perfect

GN!Esper!Reader x Y!Guide!Male OC

Note: hello im back. A lot happened, I had an anxiety attacks, my mind has been having a lot of bad thoughts, my dog passed away last year—three months ago... I didn't have a lot of time for me to write since I've been grieving for my dog's death up until now but I'm okay, I'm healing... Anyway, my writings is rusty and probably didn't improve. I know some of you guys really tried to reach out through ask and I'm kind of happy. Thanks. For now I'll give this to piece of one shot for a new year. This Esper x Guide thing I made might not be accurate. All i know is they are similar to Alpha x Omega shits except the curse thing on espers. This might be cringe. i will try to edit it. I will try to update the other oc's as well.

-also please do not do this, i do not condone anything in this story. This is purely fiction and be kept as a fiction.

CW: implied se(g)s, implied suicide(mention), yandere, drugging, manipulation, dynamic power, etc.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

"(Y/n)!!" A ginger haired male rush up to you, hugging you by the time you step on the greenery field of the university. Pastel blue of sweater was the first thing you see before you were envelope by a hug. You tense when his arms coils around your waist, hearing him breathe out of relief as he buries his face on your left shoulder. 

You don't know what to do everytime he does this. There were eyes everywhere and it doesn't seem like he is bothered by it.

Of course why would he?

Micah Clarke is not only popular and prettiest student in this campus. He is known for being famous as the youngest champion of ice skating 3 years ago, defending his title until now. His luscious natural lips, his hazel eyes that could make you halt on what you were doing, the type to make yourself give him a third glance because he is so pretty. So pretty that you sometimes envy his glassy skin, igniting a insecurities to yourself. His soft curly ginger hair and freckled face that matches his glossy alabaster complexion. The type of guy who prefers cute, pastel than those typical guys—omg so unique(lol)—that always choose to wear dark or dull colors. Everyone finds him attractive including yourself. Everything about him screams beauty and elegance. He can hook up with men and women if he wants to but he chose not to.

From what you heard, he is a rare S-rank Guide. Most espers would try hook up with him atleast make a contract with someone like him. He would rather spend his time painting his nails, crochetting, organising or planning his time, practicing his amazing skills on ice skating, or rather do hundred routine for his skincare than hook up with other people. Quirky, Alright. Still, this doesn't stop people from wanting to go between his pants and his fame.

To people he is a swan. He is epitome of perfection.

You always see him pass by to your department, always getting called by the principal,inviting him to do a photoshoot, using his face as an advertisment for upcoming enrollent or any event inside the university. You never dwell yourself to swoon on to him whenever he pass by. Fine, you do like him. But not the kind of like where you are romantically interest to him. You just admire his looks, his talents and that's about it. You just don't like he was too friendly, there's nothing wrong with that but invading someone else personal bubble space—and the feeling of shame on yourself for being near someone kind as him—as if you two are already close is not your thing to a person you rarely talk to. Unlike him, you are the quite the opposite when it comes to socialising,You like being alone, you aren't anti-social, atleast, that's what you think you are. You are confident by yourself. An Introvert.

You just like the silence. It eases your deteriorating mind—(stupid esper curse) Somewhere peace and quiet,reading books, listening to music—gosh laufey and wave to earth and even (favorite singer/composer) always sound so good, spending time with your pets, to drown out insanity voices piling up in your head. Although you just have a few friends, you love to be alone. You once dream about getting a job. To work hard and earn a good money, once you have enough money. You would spend it to buy a house and lot somewhere away from the city and nearby the countryside with a small farm. Letting your family and friends to visit you time to time in occassions. Where you can spend the rest of your life alone and happy. A dream that would be come true if only you didn't awakened as an esper after you reach 18.

As for the guy who has the entire school and other people folded for him. He is choosing you to lend his attention, to a person who doesn't like attention. So why was he talking to someone who is a nobody like a B-rank Esper like you? The only interaction you had with him before he let himself in your life was when you pull him away from the bridge—you didn't know him at that time—a few exchange greeting—which of course he would be the first one to initiate it—and.... The party....

"N-ngh!!!" A whiny moan escape his lips. Your lips were on his neck drinking each of his soft sound coming from his mouth. The blaring party background can be ignore in the background thanks to the closed lock door of this room the both of you are in.You bite and nip his skin as if animal marking its prey. You didn't care if you torn his shirt, you just needed his guide seep through more, letting your body gone addicted to him. "(Y-y/n)!" The whay he whimpered your name made you groaned. The way every pulse from his body sends his guiding through your body.  You were delirious, you can't resist him—

"Missed you! Why aren't you checking my messages? You know I got worried when you didn't reply." He whined, his orbs shows concern and sadness. You look away.

"...hey." you greeted him with quieter tone. You pulled away from the hug not liking the way your body just relaxes everytime his guide powers automatically seeps through your body. You don't hate it but you don't like the way that your body depends on someone just for the sake of being sane and relax.

.... The shame you are feeling over the past few weeks.

You still feel guilty and ashamed about it everytime you remember those memory.

"I... I was busy. Had to do homework. I fell asleep and forgot to charge my phone." You told him. Another excuse. You just put your phone on do not disturb.

You don't have the guts to tell a sweet person like him to leave you alone. Well you did because you are ashamed to face him but he insisted it was never you fault. It always ended up him spending time with you. You can't—you owe him more than anything—Especially now that all people's oggling to you too now that you have the attention of the star. They would try to befriending you so that they could get closer to him.

Gosh, you are getting tired. Why can't people leave you alone?

You missed the old times where you can be at peace. No drama, nowhere near on people who wants attention.

"O-oh. Well that's alright."he chided before grabbing your hands with both of his. His smooth hands rubbing against your ragged callouses. He continued, "well actually I was wondering could you hangout out with me? This friday? I know you don't have schedule at that time since you showed me your schedule—And I want to spend more time with you!" He beamed. His smile was out of this world and it blinds you.

"I uhh .. have a plan on that time..." You words went silent as soon as your eyes sees the smile from his lips slowly fell down to his face."really?" The grip on your hands were getting uncomfortable.

"Umm.... I just wanna be on my home and well—"He gasped, his smile is coming back on his symmetrical face as he clung to your right arm."oh! Why didn't you say so? We can hangout together in your home!"

Giddy, he press his front closer to you which made you feel suffocating. His guide power automatically seeps through you again.

"N-no, Mikah... What I meant to say is I plan to rest, like spend alone on that day. A peace and quiet." You slowly pull away your hand gently from his clinging hands.

You didn't expect he would react like this. Tears are already in the corner of his eyes. His lips quivering. "W-what? Are you saying that I'm boring, I-I'm too loud? Did I do something wrong?"

The people who were eavesdropping at your conversation sent a glare and unwanted resentment towards you. 

You quickly shook your head. Your free hand clasping against his clutching ones that is gripping your poor unavailable hand. "No... It's not like that. You didn't do anything wrong.. I just want a me time... You know when... Uhhh before you and I become friends.... I just want to relax by myself.... You're a good friend and a good company but... We've been hanging out for a while... Ummm w-what I'm trying to say is... I want some time to be alone. You... You know what I mean right?"

Micah gave you a blank stare. You were getting uneasy. You bite your inner cheek. Will he lash out? He never seem to be the person who never received a refusal on his entire life. As soon as 2 seconds has passed, you noticed his eyes were akin to sadness. You feel the guilt running up to your spine.

You tried to avoid his gaze looking straight his frowning lips before getting replace by a forced grin. "Oh! I get that! You wish a time for yourself! Self care stuff in all that!" 

Your heart beats a little faster in excitement, is he finally leaving you for a bit? You were about to thank him for understanding. He does l—

"B-but!!" He grabbed your hands again.

You internally groan. Does he even know the word no? Of course he don't.

He never had someone says no to him. Everything he request would be at his feet. You can't yell or be rude. That's not in your nature and plus if you done it. His fans would kill you.

"I need to be with you o-on friday! You know... I wanna spend my birthday with you.. P-please? your presence alone is enough a gift for me." He stammers. You blink in surprise. "I-I promise I won't bother you the next day if you really wanna spend t-time for yourself..."

Birthday?

"T-to be honest.... I don't like parties uhmm..." He lick his lips as if the word 'party' is a taboo between the two of you." Especially my birthday parties because a-although people greet me a happy birthday or any party occasion and stuff they never really mean it. They... Always use that as an excuse to use me for my fame or my money that I earned so hard in those competitions... I.. I plan to not throw one b-because m-my family isn't forcing me anymore... I just want to spend my birthday w-with you. Y-you're the only d-decent person who treated me normally."he stammer.  You feel a lump on your throat when he says you're a decent. "I... I know... Umm I'm asking to much f-from you and I know... you didn't mean to do that—" he continues to rambles that some of his words can't form a right sentence. You noticed his eyes were in the verge of tears, threatening to drop from his eyes. 

"I'm.... Not a decent person." You told him looking away from him, ashamed and hurt were written in your face.Your voice grew quiet but the man Infront catch on what you said, already refering to the 'incident' between the two of you. He bit his lower lips and almost yelled. His face pull out a sad look. It made him look cute if it's from a tears of joy."Y-you are ! You are a decent person! You know it's not your f-fault! You were d-drugged a-and I... I was drunk! W-we both know we weren't in o-our right minds! You never hurted me—!" He starts hiccuping. "You're a-a good person! W-what happened between that night s-should b-be buried! Y-you're a good friend! It's not your fault! It's not your f-fault!" With that he burst into tears.

You didn't expect for him to cry. You panic mentally. What should you do on these type of situations? You pull him for a hug—albeit stiffeningly."Ok... Ok... Don't cry.... I don't like it... When you cry.. I'm sorry." You told him honestly, truthfully this is not the first time he argued about the incident with you.

You still feel ashamed of yourself. You really do. 

The party. If only you didn't come to your friend's party. The guilt won't eat you. No matter how many times Micah convinced you that none of it was your fault. You feel like you can't face him. He did say he was also drunk at the time but still... You could have gotten home earlier and didn't force yourself on him.

You cried and apologised so many times from him at that time, swearing you will turn yourself over to the police and never let him see your face again. You saw how his whole body was full of marks, hickeys, and bruises. He look like he got ravage. His clothes were thorn and you wish the drug in your system that time killed you.

Micah's eyes light up and a smirk forming from his lips as he nuzzle his face on your neck, pretending to cry even more. Everything is planned, everything worked for him to get you under his palm. He can feel the guilt eating you. 

"... it's okay... Hik... " He sob sneaking in to kiss your neck. You are to busy awkwardly and hesitantly patting his back and hugging him

From the moment you save him from jumping off the bridge, he needed to make you his. Someone who genuinely cares for him in this greedy world is something he needed to treasure.

Oh how he had you wrap around his fingers the moment you accepted that drug-disguise juice from one of his friends offered by the man himself.

It doesn't matter. You're under his palm forever. Everything is 100% perfect.

[zemnarihah]

my best friend has been very distant w me lately and i asked today if she wanted to hang out and she said she probably couldn't bc it's her brothers birthday but she would let me know if she could and i have her location and i just looked and she's at her boyfriends house rn....

[wereh0gz]

I love giving my ocs random ass interests and hobbies like yes the giant wolfdog monster who could crush your skull in their paws also likes to make cute little plushies and yes the cat that can literally see into your soul and reap evil spirits is a Gamer™️ and has an interest in entomology

It's fun

[arolesbianism]

If I had the freedom of not knowing there is going to be future new lore stuff added to oni I would do unspeakable things to so many of these guys. Or Id just make them normal guys who just sorta exist. Either or.

[obsessedwrhys]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ The Seven x Deadpool!Reader

t/w: loooots of dark humour/jokes, reader is insensitive and an asshole since they're also a supe working at vought, your powers are the exact same as Deadpool (even the skin condition), mention about killing, death, gore, r-pe, n@zis?!?!, alcohol, some intimacy (?). Also reader is gn!!

ᯓ★ here's a version with the boys <3

HOMELANDER

This man hates you so fking much

Has tried to kill you multiple times, he tried lasering you, tearing you in half and even throwing you into the sky but you just always manage to come back like the damn plague

Eventually he gives up trying to kill you and just had to deal with the fact you'll be kept alive... just temporarily though... he's still looking for ways to kill you

However, your powers gave you dozens of advantages when around Homelander.

He can be having a meeting about something serious and everyone would be listening to him due to their fear towards him, then there's you who'd be doing your own thing and just shout out unrelated things like "Donald Trump just blocked me on Twitter!! HAH!! SUCK IT CORNFLACKS!!"

Everyone turning to you with startled expressions while Homelander simply rolls his eyes before continuing his presentation.

You are a complete nightmare to the PR team, that's why for interviews or any events, you'll always be paired up with Homelander so he can keep you under control and stop you from saying weird shit that could ruin the company's image.

"So Deadpool, how does it feel being in the Seven working alongside Homelander? You've been working together for almost 3 years now" A reporter would ask as you two are surrounded by screaming fans.

"Like I'm in the twilight series, not because of the fantasy but because I'm still waiting for the part where he impregnates me—"

"O-kay! That's enough, just silly ol' Deadpool with those inside jokes"

"You can tell in this eyes that he wants to fuck me right now. HE'S GONNA FUCK ME!!" You shouted as you're being dragged away by him.

Obviously when you had found out about his relationship with Stormfront, especially her background, you had to say some shit about it. Not giving the slightest care about the fact he could be grieving over her death.

He'll be in his room standing in front of the window and you'd just storm in, being as loud as possible.

"I can't believe you dated a N@zi!! Is it because I'm Jewish?!" Which may or may not be true, nobody knows your origin.

He may hate your guts but if he ever needs someone to help him do some dirty work, you're the person for the job, you never ask why or how, which could be the only thing he likes about you.

"Y'know, maybe if you didn't have such a big mouth, you'd be tolerable"

"All the people I've slept with have said otherwise"

Compatibility? 50%

STARLIGHT

Before she joined the Seven, she had an image of what kind of person you were, she just didn't know it was this worse.

When you found out she used to work at this Sunday School Church, you just haaaaad to say something about it.

"So like, you say that prayer always works, but every night I pray for my hair to grow and it never does. Do you think God has me blocked? How do I get unblock?"

"Uh..."

You two surprisingly get along without one wanting to slice the other's throat, except sometimes the things you say can really piss her off. Which is why when the company assigned her a new costume, she was trying her hardest to avoid you, but you found out anyways.

"Holy shit Starlight! Nice costume, is this your Miley Cyrus breakthrough? Girl power!"

Insert her groaning out of annoyance.

Again, the second you discovered she was dating a guy behind the death of Translucent, you were heartbroken :(

"Of course this happens right when my therapist gives up on me!"

Despite your behaviour, you pitied her when it was revealed that she was taken advantage of by The Deep, so like any good friend, you took revenge by cooking his friend octopus and eating it happily in front of him.

"Revenge does taste sweet" You'd say happily while Starlight just watches by the side, both grateful and horrified at your actions.

In my opinion, you would definitely be the person she goes to once she starts working with the boys, you'll always be providing whatever information that happens in the company for her to use.

It helps her worry less about getting anyone killed 'cause you literally can't die.

Compatibility? 60%

QUEEN MAEVE

You're half the reason why she rethinks about her life choices when she wakes up in the morning

Not because you're a handful (which you are) but because you're always paired together on missions

"Deadpool! The hostages!"

"OKAY! God... you act just like my drunk uncle"

Which is a joke/nickname you like to address her by because of her alcoholism (yikes)

Whenever the company needs you for something, half of the time she's the one assigned to search for you.

There was this one time she caught you trying to have Anika track down Kanye West's location, nobody knows what shenanigans you were up to.

Another thing to mention was that you two were chosen by the company to sing a Christmas song for the year's Christmas ceremony.

Just imagine during the bridge of the song, she's singing normally while you're completely going off, your high note so high you were sure you had Mariah Carey a run for her money.

Even though she finds you a lot to deal with, you're actually her buddy to train with.

Since you're very skilled with Katanas, she likes to practice her swordsmanship with you.

You like to tease or make fun of her everytime she fails to strike you which is good motivation for her to get better. Maybe you guys bring out the best of each other?

Last thing I'd like to add is when she was found out by the public that she was a lesbian (She's bi but you get the running joke), you had gifted her a t-shirt that says, 'Biggest Dick in Town'

Compatibility? 80%

THE DEEP

Your human punching bag

If Vought was a high school instead of a company, you'd be the bully and he'd be the nerd getting stuffed inside the locker room.

For example, Homelander could be confronting Starlight about her relationship with Hughie and everyone would just start raising their voices til you come in yelling "SHUT UP!" to the Deep who had not said a single thing during the entire time.

Just imagine him staring at you like 😐

To be honest you also ate his friend octopus so you guys are actually never getting the chance to make up.

"Look dude, I don't appreciate your tone"

"I don't appreciate your haircut either but we can't all get what we want"

You may be a crazy person but you weren't going to be okay with the fact he violates every woman he sees, so not only did you cook the octopus but you also called in a male stripper disguised as a woman just for him to celebrate on his birthday.

Just imagine him all happy when you tell him the news and later that night he'll run inside your room, completely pissed off at your act after finding out but you just laughed and said.

"Happy April Fools 😚!"

"That's next month dipshit!"

Also, you never understood his weird fantasies. He has a thing for sea animals??You've caught him multiple times either flirting or getting off to one. It was concerning even for you.

"From how many animals you've fucked, you might just turn from the ocean's 'Seaman' to 'Semen'." You joked which he did not find funny.

Maybe you messing with him could just be your way of getting along with him since you're the same with everybody else, it's just he has more flaws to poke fun of and he's sensitive about them.

Compatibility? 5%

A-Train

He thinks you're fucked up in the head.

Half of the shit that comes out of your mouth just has him reacting like in the GIF

Buuuuuut you're the one he always brings to the club because you always know ways to give the party life.

You've somehow even got on the wall of fame, a lovely portrait of you with your hands making out a heart.

Also, you know about his business with Compound V waaaaay before anyone else did. He's still grateful you didn't tell anyone.

Just like everyone else, you also enjoy messing with him except he's fast and constantly avoiding you.

"Hey A-Train, how much do you wanna bet that I can die faster than you?"

"Dude... seriously?"

You guys rarely get sent on missions together because you're always slowing him down, not basing off the fact he's fast but because you get easily sidetracked with other things.

"Alright, we're here now, how much C4 do we use?"

"Fuck math! Let's use all of 'em!"

You ended up detonating all of the C4 on you before he could object the idea, he was able to run out in time, your action nearly getting him killed while you ended up dead.

But it's fine you'll just grow back.

You know that race he has against Shockwave? You'd be at the VIP section standing near where Homelander and Queen Maeve is, waving your huge banner that has a picture of A-Train's face and yours pasted over a figure carrying the other in bridal style.

Compatibility? 55%

TRANSLUCENT

He makes people paranoid but you make him disgusted.

There was this one time he was bored so he snuck in your room to see what you were doing.

At first he was confused why you had so many cute plushies but then the more he explored your room, he realised your room is basically every collector's dream.

You even had a huge teddy bear in the corner of your dressing room.

The reason why he doesn't like to spy on you is because the last time he did, he saw you putting your hand in the blender, then proceeding to put your private part into it.

Never again, he thought, never again.

He doesn't need to witness you carry out your intrusive thoughts.

Surprising enough, you're close with his son, I'd like to think that after his death, you practically became the kid's godparent. Though you can be sort of a bad influence, leading up to how he is in Gen V.

You always tell him you hate kids but he thinks otherwise.

After all, he can read people well.

You guys like to pull pranks on each other since you guys like competing on who's more sneaky

There was this one time, you woke up to find your suit gone so you ended up walking around the building, completely naked and unfazed by people's stares.

It was when you walked around the corner that you found your suit worn by someone else, turns out it was Translucent under it.

"Why is it so fucking tight dude? How do you stay in this shit all day?"

"You get used to it"

Compatibility? 85%

BLACK NOIR

Lovers.

He doesn't mind your attitude because he actually can't say anything about it.

No seriously... he can't talk.

But hey he's got a good shoulder to cry on.

"I just... hffgh... I can't believe my album didn't surpass lady gaga's... She doesn't even know how to use Katanas like I do!" You'd let out a loud sob while he just stares at you for a while before placing a hand on your shoulder, patting you gently.

You know the scene where he's playing the piano for one of the company's party? You'll be laying down on top of it and singing in your usual overdramatic high pitched voice.

He finds your humour amusing so he always does this little head tilt like in the GIF when you say some weird shit while waiting for his response.

Since both of you are the only members of the Seven that wears a full body suit, obviously you had to try on his but since it was impossible to achieve that, you just had the company make a copy for you.

He'll be walking down the hallway doing his normal routine until he notises another person in his suit, the moment you speak and he realises its just you is when he let's his guard down.

"I just got some transplants done to my ass, that's why I look different"

You both are never sent on missions together 'cause you guys don't work well, pretty much nobody works well with him since he's the silent type.

Example, you two were hiding behind some crates ready to jump on the bad guys who were snucking in illegal drugs. He gestured for you to wait as he went to check again, only to turn back to see you gone.

"Marry Christmas motherfuckers!"

He heard your voice shout and he found you standing on top of the stacked crates, machine gun in hand and began shooting aimlessly.

He didn't even do anything but just watch until you ran out of bullets. However, multiple survived and began shooting at you so you ended running towards where he's hiding at.

"Yankee yankee!" You yelped.

You know the video of the two girls taking off their wigs to reveal that they're bald and they start bonding over it? I'd like to imagine that's you and Black Noir with the skin condition under the suits.

One more scenario I wanna add, you guys could be having a meeting but since you were bored and you always hated meetings, you'd draw a big heart on a piece of paper and show it to Black Noir from across the table. Surprisingly he'd draw a heart back to you.

You were overjoyed so you began to draw you and him doing it, doggy style. He stares at your doodle for a while before choosing to just focus on the meeting instead.

Compatibility? 90%

(This took a while cause I was on vacation)

[undressrehearsal]

dare to be stupid

summary: a drunken game of truth or dare overtakes your study session

tags: NSFW, tlou au, college!ellie/reader, mentions of drugs, alcohol, drunk sex, oral (r receiving)

a/n: listen idk how this turned into 7.5k. idk what happened. also this is my first time writing smut. idk if the sex is good but it was already so long. if y'all like this one i'll write a sequel or something idk

part 2

“Truth or dare?” 

It had become a tradition for the two of you shortly after moving in together. It was common for the air in your tiny apartment to grow heavy, the stress and anxiety tangible in the air - often around midterms or finals, or if your roommate had a particularly infuriating project. During these times when the bags under your eyes grew too heavy to carry or the lines around your roommate's mouth deepened into canyons, one of you would barge into the other's bedroom - frequently in disarray with notes and textbooks strewn across every surface - slam a bottle of vodka down on the desk, and utter those stupid, little three words, and the game would begin.

And so you didn't even jump when you heard your bedroom door slam against the wall, heavy boots against the carpet. You had been bent over your desk for so long that your neck ached, your eyes swimming with letters that didn't quite make sense and didn't fit into any of the medical terms laid out on your flashcards. When Ellie slammed the bottle of vodka on your desk, you blinked your eyes clear and looked up to meet her eyes. 

She smirked when she said, “Truth or dare?” 

You didn't waste time in clearing off your desk, shoving your books and cards aside into a toppling pile. Ellie, without waiting for permission, set a shot glass down in front of you, kicked off her boots, and plopped back onto your bed. 

Scooting your chair closer, you propped your feet up against the mattress, pursed your lips, and said, “Truth.” 

Ellie groaned, flopping over onto her side and propping her chin in her hand. She had stripped off her jacket, leaving her in a dark t-shirt that almost made her skin look pale in the low light from your desk lamp. “You're such a fucking pussy.” 

You rolled your eyes even as a grin pulled at your lips. “I've known you for too long, Els, and I know that I need a few shots before I'm willing to shove anything anywhere for your amusement. So, respectfully, eat my ass.” 

“You'll have to dare me to,” she quipped back immediately. She wrinkled her nose as you choked back a laugh, tapping a finger against her lips. You tried to ignore how endlessly cute it was as she said, “Where's the weirdest place you've pissed?” 

Another sound burst from your lips, some mixture of a laugh and a shout. You gaped at her, watching as a laugh crept up, a smile tugging at her lips. 

Shaking your head, you said, “Weird, but that's a pretty tame one. Not gonna ask me about my favorite sex position or if I ever snuck drugs into our dorm room last year?” 

Ellie only shrugged. “Gotta warm you up a bit first, babe.” You ignored the way your heart jumped at such an innocent word. After a moment's pause, she added, “But have you?” 

“You'll just have to ask me. One truth per round, bitch.” You pretended to think about it for a moment, though you already had your answer. “Okay, so you remember when we first signed the lease here and we were a bit short on rent?” 

Ellie nodded, her brows furrowed in confusion. 

“Like, a week before it was due, some girl on Tinder hit me up. She was passing through town and only staying for the night, and she was bored. So, she paid me.” 

Ellie's frown deepened. “To, what, have sex with her?” 

Laughter bubbled up your chest as you said, “No, she paid me to piss in her mouth.” 

There was silence for several long moments. Ellie’s jaw hung loose, her eyes wide as she simply stared at you. Several emotions flashed across her face like a movie reel - confusion, shock, disbelief - before finally landing on pure, unfiltered amusement. The corners of her lips quirked up, her open mouth turning up at the corners until a loud, sharp laugh burst from her throat. When Ellie laughed - really, truly laughed - she did it with her chest, a sound so fathomless and full it filled up whatever room she was in. 

In your small bedroom, her laughter bounced off the walls, echoing in the alley outside of your open window. You couldn’t contain your own giggles, muffling your laughter with a hand over your mouth, snorting as Ellie buried her face in your mattress. 

When she finally looked up, her eyes filled with tears, she only said, around her subdued giggles, “How much?” 

You grinned. “$200.” 

Ellie’s mouth fell open again - you’d have to pick it up from the floor at this rate. “Dude, you’re fucking with me.” 

“I swear,” you said, holding up your hand like a scout. “I’ll show you the Venmo if you don’t believe me.”

Ellie fell back against the bed, throwing her head back. “You have to go find this chick on Missed Connections, she can help with the rent.” 

You threw one of your pens at her. Catching it in midair, she stuck the end in her mouth to chew on it. You wrinkled your nose at her, but she only grinned, the pen hanging from the corner of her lips. 

“You're so gross,” you said, though you were still giggling. 

“Bold words from you, Piss Girl. That's, like, the worst superhero name in existence.” 

You threw your hands up, trying your hardest to glare at her and failing miserably. “Hey, $200 is $200. I'm not one to kinkshame.” Ellie threw the pen back at you. You grimaced when it hit your arm, leaving a small spot of spit on your sleeve before clattering to the floor. “God, it's your turn. Truth or dare, bitch?”

Propping herself up on her elbows, Ellie said, “Dare.” A grin pulled at her lips, her voice low as she added, “Because I'm not a fucking pussy.” You stuck your tongue out at her, ignoring her when she mockingly said, “Mature.” 

Your desk was pressed up next to the only window in the room, cracked open to let the cool autumn air in. Your curtains fluttered in the breeze, the dying sunlight creeping in, casting light like liquid gold over Ellie’s skin. As you thought, scrambling to think of a suitable dare, you could not control how your eyes grazed over her exposed skin, the sunlight dipping in her collarbones like pools of ichor. 

Blinking, you met her eyes once more, your throat tight. Your words came out almost choked when you said, “Okay, I dare you to make a spicy two-sentence story about something in this room.”

Ellie scoffed, sitting up and kicking her legs over the side of your bed. “I’m gonna take a wild guess that your drawer of sex toys is off limits?” 

You sputtered, stammering over your own tongue as you felt heat rush to your ears. “Yes, that’s off limits. You don’t even know what’s in there!” 

Ellie hummed, standing up from the bed and taking a few steps around the room. She didn’t look at you, but you could hear that fucking smirk when she said, “That’s what you think, babe.” 

You watched her, tracking her movements as she slowly stepped around your room, scanning for inspiration. Your bedroom was about what you’d expect from a broke, overworked college student - aside from the furniture that came with the place, it was pretty barren. Ellie scanned the little touches you did have - her finger traced over the Funko Pop of Zuko on your bedside table, her eyes lingering on the pile of fantasy books you kept atop your dresser. She smiled at the posters hung crookedly on your walls, depictions of your favorite video games. She hummed again, looking back at you over her shoulder. 

“So many options to choose from,” she murmured, running her finger along your jewelry box. She had her face turned away, so you could only see the corner of her smirk as she lifted the lid, pulling one of your necklaces from its home. You watched her warily as she approached you, the chain dangling from her slim fingers. She stepped behind you, out of your line of sight, and slipped the necklace over your head, the cold metal resting against your collarbone. 

“She looped the chain around her lover’s neck like a collar,” Ellie said. You felt her cool fingers against the back of your neck, hooking around the chain and pulling it gently against your throat. You coughed against the awkward silence; your roommate had always been a little handsy, but this was something else entirely. What the fuck is she doing? you thought. “She pulled it taut against her throat and leaned in to whisper,” you felt Ellie’s lips against your ear, her rough voice sending a chill up your spine when she murmured, “good girl.”

Reaching back, you shoved Ellie’s head away; her laughter echoed through the room as she rounded in front of you, sitting back against your bed and grinning. 

“Oh, you’re so fucking proud of yourself aren’t you?” you teased, trying - and failing - to keep your cheeks from turning red. Your skin felt aflame, a tingle lingering right where Ellie’s lips had pressed to your ear. You rubbed at the spot under the pretense of scratching your head, willing the feeling to go away. 

Your heart was pounding so hard you could hardly hear her when she said, “Hell yeah, I am. I should’ve been an English major. I could write a whole fucking slutty novel and get famous. I'm an expert - I've done enough research.” 

You rolled your eyes at her cocky smile, but Ellie only winked at you. 

This is how your truth or dare games went - with Ellie being far too cocky, prancing around doing whatever dares you could think of and asking any outrageous questions that popped into her pretty little head; and you, simply trying your damnedest to keep up with her. You flailed, flustered, when she asked you about your toy collection, and begrudgingly relented when she dared you to bring out your favorite. Ellie took a shot before you had even finished daring her to text her last hookup (“I’m not reopening that bag of crazy,” she said, scrunching her nose at the taste.) You took a shot when she dared you to go mix all of the liquids in the fridge (which included pickle juice, old broths, and orange juice) into one amalgamation and chug it (“I’d rather chug the rest of the vodka, Els.”) 

“Truth,” you said before Ellie could even ask the question. You were three shots in and could feel that lightness pressing against your temples, just at the threshold of tipsy. You had moved to join Ellie on your bed, where you sat with your back against the headboard and Ellie’s head on your thigh. The vodka bottle was balanced precariously between you. 

Ellie rolled her eyes, but looked up at you and asked, “Out of our friend group, who have you fantasized about the most?” 

She had not even finished her sentence before you served yourself a shot, a few drops splattering on your shirt. Wincing at the taste, you looked back down at Ellie; her eyes were lit up like a Christmas tree, her jaw slack.

“Don’t-” 

“You have to,” she interrupted you, pinching your thigh and grinning when you squirmed away. “You have to tell me. You can’t leave me hanging here - you didn’t even let me finish the question!” 

“Why did you even assume I’ve fantasized about any of our friends-” 

“Because I know you.” She was scrambling up now, unsteady in her movements as she came to her knees in front of you, leaning back against her heels. She planted a firm hand on your thigh - your skin was still warm where her head had been - leaning into it, her eyes drawing so close you could almost see every speck within the hazel. “And I know that bitches like us always have somebody in the group they fantasize about. So, who is it?” 

“Bitches like us?” you repeated, raising your brow. You were sure each line of her palm was going to be branded into your thigh. “So, there’s somebody you think about too?” 

Ellie’s smile was on the very edge of teasing, a small quirk at the corner of her lips that screamed at you just how wrapped around her finger you were - and, somehow, she didn’t even know it. Her voice was low, nothing more than a murmur that you could practically feel in your own chest when she said, “You really wanna know?” You didn’t answer - couldn’t, really, not when her fingers dug into your thigh and you could count each freckle across her nose. You couldn’t answer when she leaned in closer, her warm breath brushing against your cheeks, smelling of the weed you knew she had smoked that afternoon. You could hardly hear her over the rush of your own heart when she whispered, “You’ll just have to ask me.” 

Maybe it was the vodka warming your chest, tingling in your fingers - or maybe it was the way the light from your lamp cast sharp shadows across Ellie’s face, turning her skin into liquid gold - but you did not push her away. Your grip tightened around the neck of the bottle, but you held her gaze when you said, “Truth or dare, Els?” 

Her voice was soft, her half-lidded eyes holding yours as she said, “Truth.” 

“Who have you fantasized about?” The words rushed out of you before you could hesitate.

And for a moment, you believed she would answer. You let yourself believe that she would give you the answer you craved. It prickled at your skin, raising goosebumps along your arm, spreading warmth through your stomach. But your roommate had never been so straight-foward - had never given you an easy answer. She wet her lips, drawing your eyes to her mouth involuntarily, but she only pried the vodka bottle from your fingers. She held your gaze as she raised it to her lips, drinking straight from the bottle without even wincing. 

“I can play that game too, baby.” She backed away, finally giving you a moment to breathe. She settled back against the wall, laying her arms over her knees, the bottle dangling from her fingers. The skin of your thigh still burned, branded with her fingerprints. 

You looked away, huffing out a laugh that you prayed sounded sincere. You could feel her eyes on you when you leaned your head back against the wall, counting the cracks in your ceiling like they were the most interesting thing in the whole world. “It’s getting late, Els,” you said, even as your phone flashed that it wasn’t even nine yet and here you were, too many shots in, your roommate’s presence like a fire blazing in your room. “I should get back to studying.” 

“Do you want to, though?” There was an edge to Ellie’s voice, as though that question was a dare itself. You lifted your head to look at her and found that she was already watching you, her eyes soft in the dim light. 

You took a deep breath - and the vodka must have reached your brain, because before she could ask, you said, “Dare.”

You could see the vodka in the lazy tilt of her smile, in the way her head lolled against the wall. Her eyes were half-lidded, and yet there was something hidden behind her slow, sleepy gaze, something you were too afraid to name - something you were sure was only the imagination of your tipsy fantasies. 

“Close your eyes,” Ellie said, words lazily falling from her lips, as deep and rich as the strings of a guitar. 

It took you several moments longer than usual to process what she had said. Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion, as if the two of you were underwater. You shouldn't have felt like this after a few shots - you'd usually only be tipsy at this point. But something about the way the shadows dipped into Ellie's collarbones and the way her shirt rode up, exposing her boxers and the sharp cut of her hips, was intoxicating on its own. 

So it took you several long, heavy moments to say, “What?” 

She chuckled, but there was no malice behind it. There was something soft in the tilt of her head, the way she tilted her chin down to look at you through her lashes. Her hair fell in her face, brushing against her nose; you fought the urge to brush it away, knowing that if you did you wouldn't be able to stop yourself from running your fingers through her hair. You wouldn't be able to stop yourself from grabbing a fistful of the auburn strands- 

“Close your eyes,” she repeated in that same honey-thick voice, breaking you from your thoughts. “For thirty seconds. And don't open them no matter what.” When you only stared at her for several silent moments, she added, “How long have we been friends? Don't you trust me?” 

And the thing was, you did. You trusted her with your entire heart, and so you closed your eyes, and you waited. 

You felt the bed shift next to you but you did not open your eyes. You did not open them when you felt her long fingers grip your shoulder as she struggled to steady herself. You felt her hair first, fine strands brushing against your cheek, smelling of sweat and her shampoo. You did not open your eyes, even when you felt the gentle press of a warm mouth against the side of your neck. You hardly dared to even breathe, your hands tangling in your sheets, afraid that you would not be able to control yourself otherwise. You counted the long, torturous seconds, biting down on your lip when you felt Ellie’s mouth part, the warmth of her tongue pressing against your pulse. 

You had counted to twenty-six when she pulled away, a chill settling over your skin where that warmth had been only seconds ago. When you got to thirty, you opened your eyes to find that Ellie had settled back into her spot, leaning back against the wall. The only sign that she had even moved was the thin sheen over her lips, wet with her own saliva, and a small, pleased smirk. 

You did not allow yourself to think about it, ignoring the way your skin burned where she had touched you as though she were a wildfire. You sounded breathless even to your own ears when you said, in barely more than a whisper, “Truth or dare?” 

“Truth.”

“What are we doing here, Ellie?” The words were out before you could stop them, slipping from between your teeth and hanging in the air like helium. The words felt almost tangible, and yet you couldn't grasp them, couldn't draw them back into your throat. 

For a moment, you thought Ellie would grace you with an answer. She opened her mouth, and you thought maybe she would finally stop playing this game and let you breathe. Instead, just like before, she brought the bottle to her lips and held your gaze. You tried not to watch the way her throat moved as she swallowed. 

She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and recapped the bottle, settling it between you. “Truth or dare?” 

“Truth.” You felt you could no longer trust yourself with any dare she gave you. Your hands were already shaking from clenching the sheets.

“How would you rate your last kiss?” 

You squinted at her, confused by the innocence of the question after everything that had happened in the past hour (had it only been an hour?). “My last kiss was with that one girl I met at the bar a few weeks ago. She was drunk and way too sloppy, but she was hot. I guess I'd give it,” you paused, trying to remember the moment past the haze; you couldn't even remember the girl's name, “a six.” 

Ellie raised her eyebrows, her eyes widening. “A six?” She shook her head, clicking her tongue in disapproval. “You’ve got to be fucking with me. A girl like you deserves more than a six.” 

“A girl like me?” Your voice sounded deafening in the quiet. You thought it had started to rain; you could hear the pitter patter on your window, could see the way it broke up the streetlamps outside like a mosaic. 

Ellie was nodding almost absently, watching the rain. Her lips parted, and you didn’t expect her to hesitate before she said, “Yeah. A girl like you… deserves to be kissed like it’s the last gasp of air to someone drowning.” You watched her mouth as she spoke, even as your mind screamed at you to look away. You scolded yourself, screaming to end this now, but your body refused; it ached to draw her near, a tangible pain in your chest. “A girl like you should get one of those movie kisses - you know, like when the hero saves the day and shit and he kisses his girl and it’s like the world didn’t matter as long as he saved her. The kind that has the whole fucking theater holding their breath. A girl like you…. Fuck….” She trailed off her rambling. Ellie ran a rough hand through her hair, making the strands stick up at odd angles, and finally looked at you. There was a fire in her eyes, blazing in the dim light. “You deserve to be kissed like they’ll die if they can’t have you.” 

Something had stopped in your chest - maybe it was your breath, maybe it was your heart. Your blood rushed in your ears, and you feared the thrum of your heartbeat was so loud it filled your entire bedroom. Your traitorous heart pressed at your bedroom walls, filling up the space and leaving room for little else. 

Your voice was only a whisper, and you wanted to kick yourself when you said, “We should really go to bed. I have an exam tomorrow.” 

Your roommate pressed her lips together, and she did not break eye contact as she said, “Dare.” 

You shook your head, looking away from her to try, desperately, to break whatever spell had taken hold of you; but your eyes were drawn back to her as if she were the only fucking light in the dark. You had to get a hold of yourself before you did something you’d regret, but you felt intoxicated with something far stronger than the cheap vodka you had bought from Walmart. 

“You’re drunk, Els,” you said, and you sounded so breathless you may as well have given up then and there. 

Ellie leaned closer, holding your gaze, and you could see the exact shade of desire in her eyes. She was so fucking warm - your head spun from it, heat radiating from her skin when she planted a hand on the bed right next to your hip. Her wrist brushed against the bare skin under your shorts, and you felt her voice vibrating in your chest when she said, “Dare.” 

And it was like she had finally pulled the last fucking thread that made you unravel, because you couldn’t stop yourself - didn’t even think to - before you said, “Kiss me.” 

You only had a second to register the smile pulling at the edges of Ellie’s lips before she grabbed your face and pulled you in to smother it. You had never imagined what kissing Ellie would be like - had never allowed your imagination to wander so far over the edge - but she did not kiss like she was drowning. She kissed with the same slow gentleness as when she played the guitar, her long fingers plucking at the strings with the careful deliberation of a lover. 

And she felt so fucking warm. You were high with it; high with the heat radiating from her fingers pressed to your cheeks; high from the way her breath snaked past your parted lips, gentle huffs of warmth against your skin. Your head swam as you pressed into her, your hands tangling into the fabric of her shirt, fingers unsure even as you ached to pull her closer. 

Ellie pulled back for a moment - for only a moment, but each second her lips weren't on yours caused an ache in your chest. Her eyes hovered inches from yours, so fucking green it was dizzying - though you couldn't see much of the color passed the eclipse of her pupils. Her cheeks were flushed - from the vodka, from something else entirely - her freckles popping against the color. You could only imagine how you looked, could feel the desire written across every inch of your face. 

Your fists tightened in her shirt, and you used the leverage to pull her back into you; and suddenly, it felt like you were the one drowning. You couldn’t breathe as Ellie devoured you, the gentleness replaced with a hunger you hadn’t known lived inside her. She pressed her tongue against the seam of your mouth until you relented, opening up to her, a soft sound escaping your throat when her tongue ran along the roof of your mouth. 

That sound - nothing more than a breathy sigh - ignited something in Ellie. Suddenly, she was all teeth and tongue and hot, hot breath in your mouth, sucking your bottom lip between her teeth. She bit down when a shaky sigh forced its way from your throat, soothing it with her tongue and swallowing the moan it elicited. Her hands were in your hair, the strands twisted between her fingers, and when you bit down on her lip, she pulled - you gasped at the sharp pain on your scalp. 

“Fuck,” she cursed against your lips, and you could feel that single syllable, hot breath in your mouth that you wanted to swallow. She didn’t continue for a long time, couldn’t form any other words past the way her lips made you unravel. Her hands trailed down your shoulders, fingers grazing lightly over the bare skin of your arms, before finding your hips, gripping them in a vice and tugging you closer. “Fuck, come here,” she said, her voice nothing more than a low growl that you felt in your chest. 

And you were drunk - from the cheap vodka and sleep deprivation and Ellie. You were drunk on the way her eyes were eclipsed, her lips red and bitten and swollen, parted so you could feel each exhale against your cheeks. Her eyes were dark, hooded. Her fingers dug into your hips, and you were drunk, but shit, how the hell could you say no to her? How could you possibly say no when she was looking at you like she was starving? 

Her hands guided you closer so you swung a leg over her hips and settled in her lap, your hands braced on her shoulders. She leaned her head back against the wall and just looked at you for several long moments, biting down on her lip. You couldn’t stop watching her mouth, mesmerized as she said, “Fuck, look at you.” 

And then she was kissing you again, her hands gripping your hips like it was a lifeline. Your hands found their way to her hair, curling your fingers in the short locks, using it as leverage to pull her closer. You could feel how each point of your body fit into hers; your thighs against her legs, her hands curling perfectly over the swell of your hips. You could feel the swell of her breasts against your chest, and you so badly wanted to feel her skin against yours. You felt like you’d go crazy from the raw want radiating from your body. 

Ellie’s lips traced a map across your cheek, down your jawline. You tilted your head so she could kiss the hinge of your jaw, the spot right below your ear. She paused there, planting hot, open-mouth kisses across your neck, before her teeth bit down on that sensitive spot, pulling the skin into her mouth, and you practically melted into her. You couldn’t control the sounds falling from your lips like honey, gripping at her hair as she soothed the bruise with her tongue. 

“Ellie….” Your voice was nothing more than a whimper; you swallowed hard and tried again, pressing a hand firmly at her shoulder. “Ellie.” 

She only hummed against your skin, and you could feel the vibration against your pulse. The sound went straight to your stomach and dipped even lower when she bit at your collarbone. 

The next time you said her name, it came out as a moan; you cleared your throat. “We can’t do this - you’re drunk, Els.” 

Your roommate hummed again, but she relented, leaning her head back against the wall to look up at you. And - fuck. Her lips were red and swollen, still wet from the kiss. Her cheeks were flushed, and - God, her eyes. You had never understood the term bedroom eyes, but Ellie looked at you as though she wanted to devour you. Like any second her hands weren’t on you was torture. Like she wanted to bite and kiss and taste every inch of your skin. 

“Truth or dare,” she said, her voice so hoarse you had to clench your thighs around her hips. 

“What?” 

“Truth or dare,” she repeated, her eyes never leaving yours. And this wasn’t part of the game, but you played along anyway, unable and unwilling to tell her no. 

“Truth,” you sighed. 

One of Ellie’s hands traced up your side. She ran her fingers across your collarbone, up your throat, before stopping to cup your jaw, her skin rough against yours. “Do you want this?” 

You nodded, the vodka making it impossible to feel shy. 

“How long have you wanted this?” Ellie’s thumb pressed at the seam of your lips, and you let your mouth fall open. She watched, hypnotized, dipping just the tip of her thumb between your lips before withdrawing. 

It was against the rules - two questions for one truth - but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. “A long fucking time.” Your voice was weak and breathy, and you couldn’t bother to be embarrassed about that either. Your attention had narrowed in on Ellie, and the way her fingers skirted across your chest, the way her other hand gripped your hip - how you could feel the warmth of her thighs between your legs. 

Taking your chin in her hand, she drew you closer, and you could feel her lips moving against yours: “So what the hell is stopping us?” 

This time, when she kissed you, you did melt into her. You gripped her hair in your fists and swallowed the moan it drew from her, shivering when her teeth caught on your lip. She had both hands on your hips again, and she gripped them so hard you were sure you’d find bruises there in the morning in the shape of her fingers. She pulled you closer, pulling your hips down into her; the friction through your pajama shorts made you moan against her lips. 

And you decided to play her game. 

“Truth or dare?” you said, drawing away just enough to see the eclipse of her eyes. 

Ellie, always stubborn, murmured, “Dare.” 

You tugged at the hem of her shirt, your fingers brushing the warm skin beneath; you marveled at the shiver that ran through her body. You ducked your head to kiss along her jaw, pressing the words into her skin. “Take this off.” 

She didn’t waste any time tugging the shirt over her head, tossing it to the floor before skidding her fingers over the bare skin above your shorts. You lifted your arms and let her pull your shirt over your head before realizing you weren’t wearing anything beneath. Who wears a bra to study in their own apartment? 

But you didn’t have a moment to cover your body in embarrassment before Ellie’s lips were on you again, as if it pained her to not taste you for even a moment. Her hands spread across your back, pulling you into her as she peppered hot, open-mouthed kisses across your collar; you hissed when her teeth bit down over your collarbone, soothing the pain with her tongue. 

“Tell me to stop and I'll stop,” Ellie said, her voice muffled as she kissed down over your chest; you shivered when her teeth sank into the skin of your boob, sucking another bruise there. She certainly loved leaving her signature on any inch of your skin that her mouth could reach. 

You groaned low in your chest, your fingers tugging at her hair, pulling a gasp from her lips. You almost didn’t recognize your own voice - breathy and thick with desire - when you said, “Please don’t stop.” 

The next thing you knew, Ellie was shoving you off of her lap; your back hit the mattress, your head just barely missing the headboard, but you couldn’t even think about that. Your roommate was crawling over you, and you were hypnotized by the way her muscles tensed, her arms caging you against the bed. Her skin was fucking obscene, smooth plains stretching for miles, cast in liquid gold in the lamplight.

“God, look at you,” she said again, pressing a kiss to your clavicle. Her hand was like worn clay when it traced a teasing line over your hip. Her voice was muffled against your skin, but you caught the end of her sentence: “- so fucking pretty.” 

Your only response was a choked gasp when Ellie pressed the flat of her tongue to your nipple. You gripped her shoulder, feeling her lips close around you as she sucked your skin into her mouth; you winced when she released it, feeling her teeth graze maddeningly over your nipple. 

“Truth or dare?” she said into your skin, her voice vibrating in your bones. 

You groaned, gripping her shoulder when she licked a line over your other nipple. If you had thought about this (which, if anybody asked, you didn’t), you never would have imagined your roommate being such a fucking tease. 

She hummed, and you could feel the vibration in every nerve. For a moment, you couldn’t find your tongue, your voice caught in your chest until she released your skin with a pop of her lips. She looked up at you, batting her eyes, and dammit if your body didn’t arch, searching for her mouth again. 

Propping herself up on her elbows, she watched you through her lashes, an intoxicating smirk across her lips; they were still shining wetly. She broke you from your thoughts when she murmured, “Use your words, angel.” 

Your thighs clenched around her words, automatically and unconsciously. You were sure you could get drunk on the way her voice filled the room, rough and rich as the chords she played. It was through clenched teeth that you said, setting your pride aside, “Dare.” Your cheeks burned when it came out as a moan. 

You could feel her smile against your skin as she kissed down your stomach, silent for several long, torturous moments. You felt her teeth sink into your hip bone briefly, your hips jerking at the sensation. It earned you a chuckle before you felt Ellie’s hands pressing your hips into the mattress, holding you still. You groaned low in your throat when you felt her tongue against the skin over the band of your shorts, licking a stripe right above the fabric before taking the elastic between her teeth and tugging. You jumped when she released it, the band snapping back against your skin. You didn’t have to look at her to see the sparkle in her eye. 

You swore your heart stopped completely when she murmured, “I wanna go down on you.” 

Despite this game she was insistent on playing, it wasn’t said like a dare; it was said like a question, or a request. There was no expectation behind it. Ellie was asking, you realized with dizzying satisfation, for permission. 

“Fuck.” It came out as only a breath, a whisper against your tongue. Your fingers ached from gripping the sheets and she hadn’t even touched you yet. “Fuck,” you tried again, and it was a groan this time but at least it was louder. “Yeah. Yeah, please, fuck.” Words were just falling from your lips because when you looked down, Ellie - your roommate, your friend - was watching you, propped between your legs with that fucking smirk, and how could you possibly string together a complete sentence? 

And Ellie… didn’t. She didn’t follow up on her dare. Not immediately, at least. No, she took her sweet fucking time - always so damn precise, taking her time in hooking her fingers over the band of your shorts. She pulled them down so slowly you could feel every inch down your legs. And then you were lying beneath your roommate in nothing but your underwear - and dammit, if you had known this would be happening, you would have opted for something a little sexier than a cotton pair with constellations on them. 

Ellie smiled. “Cute,” she said, before sinking her teeth into the flesh of your thigh. You were thankful it was cold out - you’d have to wear layers to hide all the places her mouth had been. 

Your roommate ducked her head, and you gasped when you felt her press a featherlight kiss against the fabric of your underwear, right where warmth pooled between your legs. 

You huffed, twisting the sheets between your fingers. “God, you’re such an asshole - fuck-” You were cut off when Ellie licked a stripe up your panties, warm tongue pressing against your throbbing clit. You moaned at the relief, feeling the wetness of her mouth through the fabric. It wasn’t enough - you needed to feel her against you, needed her tongue to unravel you piece by piece. You pressed your hips down against her lips but her hands held you in place. 

You huffed out a breath, her name slipping from your lips when you moaned. “Ellie….” 

And then she was yanking your underwear down your hips; you gasped, lifting your ass to help her shove them down. She had only gotten them just below your knees before she was pressing back in, too impatient to finish the job. 

And - fuck, her mouth. Ellie’s mouth was fucking magic. You moaned into the quiet room when she pressed the flat of her tongue against your pussy, licking a stripe between your lips. You couldn’t control the curses slipping between your teeth when her tongue made teasing circles around your clit until you were whimpering, aching for her. She had released your hips to dig her fingers into your thighs, nails digging in, and you’d surely have crescent-shaped bruises there tomorrow - even more to cover up. You pressed your hips down against her, groaning, her name only a whisper: “Fuck, Els-” 

And then she finally, finally, gave you what you wanted. 

Ellie ate pussy like it was her fucking job, like she was clocking into a shift and working her ass off for those tips. She lapped at your clit like she was starving, pressing her lips against you until you were dizzy, your entire body tuned in to the warmth of her tongue and the gentle graze of her teeth. You shuddered when you felt that tongue press into your core, a brief pressure that pulled curses from your lips, words tripping over each other: “Ah - fuck - fuck, Ellie - oh my God, fuck-” 

It didn’t take long for tension to build in your stomach. You were intoxicated; you were tipsy, yes, but something about the way Ellie moved her tongue - long, slow circles around your clit, using the flat of her tongue to draw you closer to the edge - was like a damn drug. You got what you wanted: She unraveled you with her tongue, tugging curses from your lips. You could hear your own moans echoing against your quiet bedroom and you couldn’t even feel embarrassed about it. 

Ellie took your clit between her lips and sucked, pulling you into her mouth and-

A long, low moan pulled at your throat when you came. Your hand came up to grip at her hair, fingers twisting in the soft strands. She moaned when you pulled, and the vibration against every nerve pushed you further; you could feel your orgasm in your chest, could feel it trembling in your thighs. 

Ellie worked you through it, her tongue dancing against you as you rode out your high. She didn’t stop, pressing her lips against you, dipping her tongue into your core again, until you were shoving against her head, your hips bucking at the sensitivity. 

When she raised her head, she was grinning, that wicked, infuriating grin she always had when she was pleased with herself. She rested her head against your thigh for a moment, watching you as you blinked the stars from your eyes. You relaxed your fingers in her hair, smoothing your thumb across her temple. 

The only thing you could say, breathless and dizzy, was, “Fuck, Els. What the fuck?” 

Ellie laughed, the sound unarming the silence around you, the anxiety of what this meant. She pressed a kiss to your thigh, right over the little indentations where her nails had dug into the flesh, and just said, “Yeah?” 

You giggled, tugging at her hair gently. You looked down at your roommate - and you didn’t know what this meant for the two of you, but that could be a problem for tomorrow, when you weren’t drunk and sleep-deprived and naked beneath your friend. For now, you only said, “Truth or dare?” 

Ellie blinked, raising an eyebrow, and said, “Truth.” 

You considered not asking for a moment, unsure if you wanted to know, but curiosity pressed at you until you asked, “What do I taste like?”

The grin spread wider, Ellie’s eyes sparkling as she pushed herself up. She crawled up your body, taking a moment to press a kiss to your stomach, to the bruises she had left littered across your chest - you moaned when she took a nipple briefly into her mouth. She kissed her way up your neck, across your jaw, sucking at the skin beneath your ear - another fucking bruise to worry about. God, it was like she wanted her signature on you, branded in every inch of your skin. 

Her face hovered an inch above yours, propping herself up on her elbows, smirking. She leaned in close, leaving room for you to turn away if you wanted. Instead, you tilted your chin up and kissed her again. 

You wrinkled your nose at the metallic taste of yourself against her lips. You didn’t like it, the way your own scent wafted over you. But fuck if you didn’t open your mouth when you felt Ellie’s tongue pressing at the seam of your lips. She moaned when your tongue ran along the roof of her mouth, pressing into the taste of you. 

When she pulled back, her eyes were soft, her cheeks flushed. “Like that.” 

You rolled your eyes, turning your face away; you had to admit, even if you hated how you tasted - tasting yourself against her tongue sent a wave of heat between your legs all over again. You only said, “Gross.” 

Ellie leaned in again, and you felt her lips ghosting against your jaw. You felt her breath against your skin when she whispered, “Truth or dare?” 

You lifted your chin to give her access to your neck, sighing when she pressed a kiss against your pulse. “Truth.” 

Her breath huffed against you when she chuckled before raising her head to meet your eyes again, that same cocky smile spread across her lips. “Was that better than a six?” 

“Oh, fuck off.” You shoved against her until she rolled off of you. 

She flopped back against the mattress, still laughing, but she was holding her arm out for you. You only hesitated for a moment - but even if she was your roommate, she just made you see stars, so it’s not like cuddling would push against the boundary you had already broken. You curled into her, laying your head on her chest, the sports bra she was still wearing soft against your cheek.

You sighed, skimming your fingertips against the warm skin of her stomach. “Yeah,” you whispered before you could stop yourself. “Definitely better than a six.” 

You were starting to fall asleep, your eyes growing heavy, your study notes effectively forgotten. You burrowed into her further, wrapping your arm around her and pressing your fingers against her hip. You briefly wondered where the vodka bottle had ended up in the mess, but Ellie didn’t seem in any particular hurry to untangle herself from you, so you figured it could wait - surely it would be okay if she slept in your room for one night.

Just before you dozed off, you heard Ellie murmur, “You left the window open.” 

[izadi234]

Forget me not

-Warning: Contain yandere themes, neglected! gn!reader, mention of low self-esteem, the writer's first language isn't English.

Yan! Batfamily x gn! reader

Chapters

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 (You're here)

Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 2

The moment you retreated to your room Alfred's gaze hardened as he looked at the kitchen door through which you had left.

With a sigh he returned to making breakfast, however, something couldn't stop going around in his head.

Why?

Why do you have to leave?

Why do you have to leave ME?

He doesn't blame you. Your "family" has done nothing but ignore you and push you aside on more than one occasion since you arrived at Wayne Manor. And if it weren't for him, Bruce wouldn't have remembered to pay for your needs and education.

No. He could never blame you for your decision, but he can blame Bruce and your brothers. He had never felt such anger for them, not even when Martha and Thomas died at the hands of that cruel man. But that never had a solution, but this did. His family has a solution and he was going to fix it for you and for you. To always have his ray of sunshine at his side.

He wasn't going to lose you without having fought a war.

But for now, he had to stay calm. He sighed once more and finally relaxed as he served breakfast on the plates. He has to talk to Duje after you told him about your decision.

He had to think with a cool head. As he had told Bruce many years ago: "Fear doesn't make you think clearly" and not only was he scared of his little ones going out into the world alone, he also had anger built up. And he was going to use those two feelings to his advantage.

It was not for nothing that he was a very feared soldier during the war.

You were in your room as usual texting with a friend when Duke knocked on your bedroom door before coming in.

"Hey (name)!" said Duke happily who sat on your bed while you sat at your desk

"Oh hey Duke!" you greeted him with a smile anyway "How was school today?"

"A little boring, but at least it's Friday now" he chuckled

"And you? How was your day?"

It's now or never.

You sighed and got up from your spot to sit next to him on your bed.

"I have something to tell you Duke…" you put a hand on his shoulder

"And what is it?" He asked worriedly seeing your seriousness "Don't tell me it's something bad"

"No, it's nothing bad. At least I don't consider it bad" you started to say "But, Duke, I've decided to move out of the mansion"

"…What?…" he said in a quiet tone of voice surprised by your words

No, it can't be…

"I know it's sudden, but I can't stand this place" you sighed "I want- No, I need to start over without being in the shadow of others"

You turned to look at him and caressed his cheek.

"But this doesn't mean we won't see each other again. We'll be able to talk and keep in touch" you offered him a smile

Without saying anything, Duke hugged you and nestled his head in the crook of your neck. You put a hand on his neck and caressed him.

"Just… Don't forget about me…" he said after a few minutes of silence.

He pulled away from you and wiped away some tears that threatened to fall from his eyes.

"I could never do that, brother," you wiped one of his eyes with your thumb.

After that emotional conversation, you and Duke spent the afternoon in your room talking and watching movies on your laptop. However, Duke's mind was still on that conversation.

There was no chance that you would leave him. He had to find a way to prevent you from leaving his side.

The week you moved went by so fast that when you realized it, you were already taking the last box with your belongings out of the mansion.

You looked back at that mansion one last time and felt like that little kid again who arrived with fear and excitement to what he would call home for years. But soon your face darkened as you remembered the suffering you had experienced there. Without thinking twice, you turned around and got on your motorcycle, but not before securing your last box. You started the bike and left Wayne Manor.

You hadn't said goodbye to Alfred nor Duke but you left a letter on both of their beds wishing each of them the best, thanking them for everything and giving them the phone number of your second cell phone in case they needed something or just wanted to check on you. However, you didn't leave anything else, not even an address. You wanted to completely erase the Waynes from your life, you wanted to erase the fact that you were a Wayne too. You wanted to forget them so much that you turned off the cameras in the mansion for a period of time so you could take out your things in peace, so that no one would see the license plates of your motorcycle that you had been keeping at a friend's house and whose motorcycle was registered.

If nothing else, you had developed the same paranoia as Bruce and decided to take every measure to avoid being located. You even thought about going to live in Metropolis or Star City but the rent and sale of apartments there were much more expensive than in Gotham. Maybe when you earn more money once you finish college.

But for now focus on your present.

Before it is taken away from you.

When you got to your apartment you let out a sigh that you didn't know you were holding. You looked around, there were some pieces of furniture that came with the apartment like a leather armchair that was a little worn but looked pretty new, a wooden bookcase, several coffee tables, some pots and kitchen stuff. The only thing you had to buy was your bed but your best friend did you the favor of giving you a headboard for your bed as a gift of independence and you only bought a mattress. It wasn't as comfortable as the one you had in the mansion but at least you had things you could consider yours. NOT thanks to Wayne, but thanks to your efforts.

You put the box on the kitchen counter and before going to your room you saw several boxes.

Damn... You hadn't thought about how lazy you were going to be when you had to unpack.

That same day you left, Alfred had returned from going grocery shopping. At that time of the morning you and he used to spend the morning together, while you were in your online classes, he did the housework along with the food. Between the breaks you had between classes you used to go see what he was doing in the kitchen and you were his personal taster.

Now that you were on vacation, you spent more time with him because Bruce, Tim and sometimes Damian went to Wayne Enterprises, Dick and Jason weren't usually at the mansion and Duke, Cass and Stephanie were training in the Batcave or with their friends. For that same reason Alfred was alarmed when he called your name and you didn't answer.

He quickly went up to your room only to find it completely empty. His heart raced and he started to sweat lightly.

You couldn't have left so quickly, right?

He went down again and checked all the rooms in the big mansion and found nothing. Only his own room was missing. As he entered he could see an envelope of your favorite color on his pillow. He approached and read it.

In the letter you apologized for not saying goodbye to him in person but if you did you were more than sure that you wouldn't be able to leave. You also left him a private cell phone number where he could call you and you wished him all the best.

It had been a long time since Alfred felt the need to cry but without realizing it he had already shed a few tears. He couldn't believe that his little one was already gone.

After having shed a few tears, he quickly wiped his eyes and composed himself. No, he couldn't cry because you were going to return. He was sure of that.

However, he would let you enjoy your independence a little before implementing his plan for you to return home to your family. With him.

But first he'll have to talk with Duke.

Helloooo! I hope you liked the second chapter! If you did leave a heart and i'll see you in the next one. I kind of think this chapter is kind of bland but the story is just begining. This are the first impressions of you leaving the Manor but soon enough the rest of the family will appear.

Thanks you for reading!

-Izadi <3

TAG LIST

@eyeless-kun

[sheeezu]

Things to expect when you've mastered shifting

This isn't the normal "oh you'll feel on top the world" kind of post which just hypes up everything and the sole purpose is to motivate. This is (???) the logistics, the indepth version of what you'll face psychologically.

I've shifted close to about a hundred times, whether it was from this reality, or shifting within a reality I shifted.

This is all from my personal experience, you might experience differently.

⋆ Disassociation: when you shift back to your original reality, you'll often times confuse both reality's memory, of course, we all know this, doesn't matter if you shifted or not. But what I've seen no one talk about is that sometimes events and certain objects from your DR will unintentionally manifest into your CR, just because of how deeply rooted they become in your subconscious. For example, I had maybe mentioned this somewhere else, but in my DR I had scripted expensive china cups, which broke on my second day being there. Well two weeks ago my family was gifted the same teacups (some details were off) and one of them managed to get a crack in them after we served the guests tea in it.

⋆ Weird Dreams: Not only is the concept of the dreams weird, but overall mechanics of it are unusual as well (I didn't shift unconsciously in my dreams, that's one boundary I've established)

For example, dreams with people claiming to know the future, telling me, and it coming true the next day, but it being minor details, people from my DRs channeling me, dreams which involves falling out of reality/finding the end of the multiverse.

Dreams which involves me floating, strong winds which blow away entirely of the void reality (CR), I had started getting this dream since I've wanted to permashift, the wind is so strong and I feel it, I'm usually at my college and or doing a mundane activity in my current reality, everything dissapears and I end up in the void state for the rest of the night.

Once my S/O visited me in my dream, he asked me to come back home, it was a lucid dream so I consciously agreed because I couldn't deny him; ended up in my home reality.

⋆ Feeling weirdly sad about your CR: this one might be personal to me. truth be told, I haven't studied a single day since I've successfully shifted. This year all of my classmates and age fellows are going to start looking at university applications, the ones they mention are usually universities I used to dream all day long about getting into, when I didn't know about shifting. It forms a pit in my heart, the passion I once used to have regarding hardwork by investing blood sweat tears into studying, pinterest board filled with quotes such as "some dreams are worth more than my sleep" not stirring anything within me. It's not that I think I can't get these things, i know i can just shift to a parallel reality and get it, but I just don't want to, I don't feel the same about this reality anymore, slowly letting it go, no matter how much I try to cling onto it, I know I was never meant to be here.

⋆ Personality changes: When you become an expert at shifting its no question that you'd shift very frequently. Those DR selfs would influence your personality, and people can think you're developing a split personality disorder.

Take me as an example, if you look at the posts on my blog, you'd notice a different tone in each one of them, some are in a more softer tone and the others feel clinical.

⋆ Putting your DR family first, even though they're not here: I don't know how to explain this one, so I'd just take an example out of my own experience again.

I was out shopping with my mother for sweaters, the ones we were coming across were really good quality, but I could only think of my S/O, she was pointing out the things she thought I'd like, but I kept looking at the men's sweater, subconsciously trying to pick one out for him, which weirded my mother out slightly.

...

Why am I crying.

Anyways I have planned to permashift out of this reality before new year, it was my childhood dream to blog, but I was too shy to do so and never had anything common with anyone. But I've finally completed the final thing on my list, alongside with meeting my cousin who I adored, I decided to add her to my DR.

That's it, I'll go on and answer the 50 asks in my inbox.

...

[briefinquiries]

Tyler Owens x Reader: Too Easy

Request: Anonymous asked: "okay i have a tyler owens request!! him and reader are both tornado wranglers and they’ve always had a somewhat flirty relationship, but at one point they’re out chasing and the motel they stay at that night doesn’t have enough rooms for all of them so Tyler and the reader decide to share and reader has a nightmare? or just some kind of angst or hurt/comfort with a happy ending? love ur work!"

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: PTSD, trauma, tornado mention

A/N: I changed it from flirty to an enemies to lovers-type relationship, just because i've been craving to write that type of banter. as always, comments & replies are super appreciated!!! thanks for reading :)

As soon as you saw the familiar red Dodge truck parked outside the motel you groaned. 

“Is this guy everywhere, all the time?” Halle, one of your crew members, mumbled from the driver’s seat. She pulled your SUV into the only empty spot in the parking lot. 

She was referencing Tyler– another local storm chaser and absolute pain in your ass. His Ram truck was like a symbol all around Oklahoma. Everyone in the midwest knew his name– and what he did. You, on the other hand, knew him as a self-absorbed jerk that constantly put his and his team’s lives in danger for a few hundred thousand views on YouTube. He was cocky and obnoxious and arrogant. And you couldn’t stand him. 

Unfortunately for you though, Tyler Owens and his entire team went where the storms went. Which meant that you were stuck dealing with him– especially during tornado season. 

“Let’s just get a room, maybe we missed him,” you mumbled before turning to the backseat. “Anna, could you pass me my bag?” 

“Sure thing,” she replied, grunting as she handed your duffel over. 

“How about two rooms tonight?” you suggested. “I feel like I haven’t actually slept since we were in Austin.”

“God, I’ve been waiting for you to suggest that,” Halle mumbled. The bags around her eyes suggested she was just as eager for a good night’s sleep as you were. 

Together, the three of you dragged yourselves towards the motel lobby, exhausted and desperate for both a shower and a bed. 

“Why don’t you guys wait with all the gear? I’ll go in and book the rooms,” you offered. 

“Two of them,” Halle said with a relieved smile. 

“Two rooms coming up,” you promised. 

They nodded in agreement and settled in on the curb while you wandered inside. The bell above the door rang loudly as you stepped inside. As soon as you did, you realized that, to your absolute dismay, a familiar someone had already beat you to the front desk. You’d recognize those stupid, broad shoulders any day, even if you were sleep deprived.  

“Evenin’ m’lady,” Tyler’s little sidekick said teasingly. He tipped his baseball cap towards you.   

“Hey Boone,” you greeted back curtly.   

“What’d ya think of that beaut earlier, huh? Not too often we get two storm cells like that.”

“Yeah it was somethin’,” you replied absentmindedly. Honestly, you didn’t dislike Boone. He was friendly– maybe a little overzealous for your liking, but overall a nice guy. It was a shame he was always around Tyler– otherwise you might not always be so annoyed with him, too.  

“There she is,” Tyler beamed. He approached you and Boone while he tucked a few room keys in his wallet. “Were you fillin’ Boone in on why you picked the wrong storm to chase today? Because that’s a story I want to hear–” 

Your gaze fell to the floor, chest tightening the same way it did in the field earlier. “The winds changed last minute– I didn’t catch it,” you muttered, although you shouldn’t even have to explain yourself to this hillbilly. 

“Ah, I see. Man, you’re off your game, sweetheart. Usually it’s me missin’ those signs. What do you got cloudin’ up that pretty little mind of yours?” 

Anger began seeping into the corners of your mind. “Why do you even care?” you asked icily. “Thought you’d be happy to have that storm all to yourself.”

“Oh, I was sweetheart,” Tyler winked. “But I don’t mind sharin’ with you.”

Rolling your eyes, you pushed past him towards the front desk. A younger girl with short, red hair offered you a smile. “How can I help you?”

“I need two rooms please,” you requested, it took about all the energy you had left to smile back. 

The girl sucked in a breath of air. “Oh, I’m so sorry– this gentleman here just rented three rooms. All we have left is one.”

“One?” you asked in disbelief, mouth falling open. 

She nodded. “There’s two beds, though, if that helps.”

“Shit,” you grumbled. Your team was exhausted– and you knew that you couldn’t just take back your promise for them to have their own beds. 

“I’m sorry–” the girl repeated, but you shook your head. 

“No, it’s okay. Not your fault,” you said quickly, trying to remember your manners.. 

“Somethin’ wrong over there sweetheart?” Tyler asked teasingly.  

“Yeah, you took all but one of the rooms. Now my team doesn’t have enough.”

“C’mon, I’ve seen you guys cram into one room before.”

“Yeah, but they’re exhausted. We haven’t had our own beds in weeks and I promised them…” your voice trailed off. Why the hell were you even explaining any of this to him? “You know what? Just forget it–” you turned back towards the receptionist. “I’ll take the one room, please.”

After passing your card over and paying, you turned and pushed back past Tyler and Boone. But before you could reach the door, Tyler’s voice stopped you in your tracks. 

“What are you just gonna go back on your promise? That’s really gonna disappoint your team–”

“I’ll sleep in the damn truck,” you snapped, zero patience for any of his sarcasm or feeble attempts at a joke. “Happy?”

“Hey–” he said, voice softening instantly. “I was just kiddin’ around.”

“Really funny,” you said, sarcasm dripping off your tongue, now more than usual, Tyler was getting on your nerves. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go and disappoint my team.”

Without waiting for whatever retort Tyler could come up with next, you finally pushed your way through the door without looking back. 

You found Halle and Anna in the same place you left them– still sitting on the curb, slouched over and exhausted-looking.  

“Hey guys, bad news–” you began, guilt already spreading through your stomach. But before you could, the bell to the lobby door rang out, causing you to groan.  

You took a deep, steadying breath to calm your nerves, just in time for Tyler to speak. “Now I have an idea– how about we share? I got three rooms for my team, but that’s six beds… we only need five.”

You spun around so fast, you were surprised you didn’t get whiplash. “Look Tyler, as much as you know I love your antics, can we not do this right now? Please?”

“Who said anythin’ about antics?” he pressed. “I’m bein’ serious here. Your two can have their beds and you can take one of ours.”

“No way,” you spat quickly. “I’m sleeping in the car.”

By now, Halle and Anna had seemingly picked up on the situation. They stood up and crossed their arms disapprovingly in unison. 

“You can’t sleep in the car, that’s ridiculous,” Anna said. 

“Yeah, why don’t you and Anna take the room and I’ll share with Tyler’s crew,” Halle offered. 

“No,” you shook your head. “I promised you guys a good night’s sleep tonight– I’m not letting you crash with them.”

“Well we’re not letting you sleep in the car,” Halle argued back. “It’s like… eighty-five degrees out here.” 

You let your eyes fall shut for a moment, trying to think. But the truth was, you really were just so, so tired. You wanted everything about today– the storm cells you got wrong from earlier, the endless hours of driving, and lack of sleep, over with. And if bunking with someone from Tyler’s crew was the only way to make that happen, well then, so be it, you finally decided. Better you than Halle or Anna. 

“See– even your team isn’t as scared of us as you are,” Tyler chuckled. 

“Fine,” you snapped, shaking your head in disbelief. You couldn’t believe this was actually happening. “Who am I sharing with?”

Maybe you’d get lucky and get to room with Dani or Lilly–

“That would be me,” Tyler chirped, eyes glistening under the streetlamp. 

Well fuck me, you thought. 

…

You curled up in the double bed closest to the wall. By the time you got up to the room, Tyler had already claimed the one closest to the door.

You heard the water snap off in the bathroom, followed by the sound of Tyler peeling back the shower curtain. That was your cue to feign sleep, if only to avoid any further conversation with him for the night. You rolled over and pulled the blankets up to your chin. 

After a few minutes, he emerged from the bathroom– the noise from the fan growing louder and a sudden whiff of his shampoo washing over you. You’d never admit it– but the way he smelled was actually one of the few things you liked about Tyler. 

“I know you’re not sleepin’,” he said as he began rummaging through his bag. 

“How the hell would you know that?” you groaned. 

You heard him chuckle softly. “Because you wouldn’t have answered if you were.”

This fucking cowboy. 

“Well I’d like to be sleeping,” you said, still not rolling over to face him. 

“And here I was hopin’ we’d use our little sleepover to get to know each other a little better.”

“You can lay off the act,” you said suddenly, all of your anger and exhaustion just melting into a pool of unfiltered irritation. 

There was a brief pause before Tyler replied, “What do you mean?”

“I mean there’s no audience in here– no team members watching, no YouTube subscribers viewing us. You don’t have to pretend to be all sweet and charming.”

“I wasn’t aware I was pretending–”

“Oh cut the shit, Tyler. You love to drive me crazy me– just admit it. And it's probably my fault for letting you get to me so easily. But I mean, c'mon, was it your plan all along to just get me to share a room with you so you could keep me up all night getting to know me better?”

He let out a huff of air that sounded frustrated, as opposed to his usual amusement. “You’re something else, Y/N, you know that?”

You were caught off guard by Tyler’s use of your actual name. He always resorted to nicknames– either sweetheart or the town he knew you were from. In fact, in the few years you’d known him, the only time he’d ever repeated your name was the first time you told it to him. 

You sat up in bed and finally turned to face him– trying to gauge his demeanor. 

“I offer you a room– I didn’t have to do that, you know? And believe it or not, I didn’t offer it to you just to make your life miserable. I did it because I didn’t like the idea of you sleepin’ in your car alone–” he shook his head. “Forget it. It doesn’t matter. Goodnight.”

Before you could even think of a reply, Tyler was peeling back the covers of his own bed and crawling in. He laid on his left side, back facing you.

You stayed in place for a moment, too stunned to move or speak or do much of anything.

Eventually, you laid back down, trying your best to deny the pool of guilt spreading through your stomach.

… 

With one arm you held on to your sister's hand as hard as you could– feeling the muscles in your shoulder strain and pop as you did. 

“Hold on!” you shouted, pleading with her not to let go. 

With your other hand, you were clinging to the handle on the storm shelter door. Somehow it had managed to pop open after the two of you had escaped inside. 

She looked down at you, her body suspended in the air– nothing but sheer, unfiltered terror reflecting in her round-rimmed glasses. 

“C’mon!” you screamed. 

“Please–” she gasped. “Please don’t let me go!”

“I got you!” you screamed, but you could feel that your grip on her clammy hand wasn’t as tight as it needed to be. “No–” you yelled. 

“Don’t let me go–” she repeated, nails digging into your skin desperately. 

But you didn’t even have time to adjust your grip before she was slipping away– in the end, the winds won. 

In the blink of an eye, her body was being sucked away from you– further and further into the dark storm clouds barreling your way. 

“No!” you screamed, reaching for the spot her body was moments before. “No!” 

But then you felt your own grip slipping on the door handle and you knew you needed both hands to hold on if you wanted to survive. So, using all your strength– you dragged yourself to the bottom of the storm shelter. You found the safest corner– next to some old piping to curl up. 

The whole time the storm raged on above you– you couldn’t stop screaming. So, you squeezed your eyes shut and pressed your forehead against your knees, making yourself as small as possible. And then, with everything you had left, you wound your arms around the piping and held on like your life depended on it… because it did. 

…

Your name sounded so distant when you heard someone calling it– like it was miles away. Then, vaguely, it came more into focus as it was called again. 

The third time, it was right next to you– and it was familiar… but you didn’t dare to look up. What if the storm was still raging outside? What if it took you next? 

Hands gripped your shoulders– causing you to jolt awake. 

Your eyes shot open as you pulled yourself from your nightmare. Tyler was sitting on the edge of your bed, his mouth hung open, like he was out of breath. 

“Tyler?” you croaked, attempting to sit up from the mattress. 

“You’re okay,” he said instantly. “You’re okay– you’re safe.”

Once you had managed to sit up, you studied Tyler’s face for a moment, trying desperately to gauge if any of this was real. Despite the darkness around you, you could still make out every feature– every crease, every freckle, every single piece of stubble that made up his shaved beard. And as much as you’d admired Tyler’s face in the last few years, even you knew that you couldn’t have been that detailed in your imagination.   

You wanted to ask what the hell he was doing there– how he had gotten in her room, when all of a sudden, the same memories that had plagued you in your dream resurfaced in your mind.

The sight of the EF4 tornado that destroyed every inch of your childhood home. The image of your sister’s terrified face– right before she was ripped from your grasp. The sound of her scream, dissipating with the raging winds. 

“Easy, sweetheart,” Tyler soothed. 

You turned to face him– Tyler was here because he’d let you share his room… because he was way kinder than you ever gave him credit for. And now he was here– witnessing you completely falling apart.

Tyler’s lips began moving– he was talking. But despite the vague comfort from his tone of voice, you couldn’t really make out what he was saying. It was like the winds were still raging around you– muffling everything. 

You felt like your heart might just beat out of your chest– maybe that was the tornado working to rip it from your skin. 

“Hey–” a voice… no, not a voice. Tyler’s voice, said. “You gotta breathe.”

What was he talking about? You were breathing– of course you were breathing. Unless... unless the tornado ripped out your lungs instead of your heart. And now that you thought about it, no, actually, you weren’t breathing. You tried to inhale in, but the air wouldn’t come. You gasped, chest tightening while you began to tremble. 

Your lungs weren’t in your chest– your lungs flew away– just like your sister.

Firm, rough hands cupped both of your cheeks, forcing you to look forward. You were met by Tyler’s green eyes, currently blown open and wide with worry. 

“Breathe, baby,” he instructed. “With me– look.”

Baby, you thought. That was a new one. You didn’t hate it nearly as much as you hated sweetheart. 

You watched desperately as Tyler inhaled and exhaled exaggeratedly, like he was hoping you’d follow along.  

You tried. Really, you did.

Your wide, desperate eyes met his. But instead of following along, all you could do was imagine what your sister’s body had looked like after being struck by debris and tossed halfway across town–

“With me,” Tyler repeated firmly, his thumb stroking across the surface of your cheek gently. You leaned into his touch, craving comfort. 

Tyler continued producing loud and deliberate, slow and calming breaths. After a few seconds, you latched onto the sound, mimicking it, and following along the best that you could. 

Your shoulders relaxed slightly when you realized that you could actually breathe– which meant that EF5 hadn’t actually ripped them out of your chest. 

Tyler’s brushed a loose strand of hair from your face. “There you go,” he whispered.

“Did I wake you up?” you asked quietly, feeling even guiltier than you had for snapping at him all night. 

He hesitated– like he was actually debating on lying to you or not. 

“Was I screaming?” 

“I mean, a little bit–”

You nodded before letting your gaze fall to your lap, where you began picking harshly at an old hangnail, a feeble attempt to distract yourself. 

“Do you–” Tyler began. “Do you have those nightmares often?”

Now it was your turn to contemplate lying. But then you remembered what an absolute jerk you’d been to Tyler all night, and figured you at least owed him the truth. 

“Yeah,” you said. “That’s partially why I wanted to sleep in the truck.”

Tyler smiled softly. “And here I was thinking it was because you hated me so much.”

“I’m sorry–” you began, voice shaking slightly. “I know I can be a jerk.”

One of Tyler’s eyebrows shot up like he was surprised. 

“What?” you asked. 

“No it’s just… that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you apologize.”

“What can I say?” you mumbled, trying to make light of things. “You seem to always see the worst versions of myself.” 

Tyler’s gaze softened, like he knew you were talking about more than your lack of apologies. After a moment he sighed. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Glancing up, you hesitated. Your heart had just stopped pounding in your chest, but the thought of talking about what had happened in your home just a few short years ago made it speed up again.  

“You don’t have to–” Tyler said quickly. 

“No– it’s just…” your voice faltered. “I just haven’t really talked about it.” 

Tyler was patient. He stayed still on the edge of your bed and waited for you to be ready. After you sorted through some of the thoughts in your head you whispered, “You know I’ve been chasing in Oklahoma since I was a teenager?”

Tyler’s face lit up in surprise. 

“It’s true. I took a few years off… and when I came back, I was upset to see Oklahoma had a new storm chaser. One that everyone seemed to like more than me,” you admitted. You weren’t sure why this was all flowing out so freely, but even you had to admit that it felt nice to be honest. “That’s why I’ve been so mean to you, I think. It felt like you were encroaching on my turf. And then you showed up with your fancy truck– and all your gear, and I suppose I just felt a little jealous.” 

Tyler nodded in understanding. “Why’d you take a few years off?”

Your voice caught in your throat. Only when you hung your head did you feel confident enough to answer. “Remember that EF5 that hit Logan County a few years back?”

Tyler nodded. 

“My family’s farm was in Logan County. My parents were away– on a weekend trip to Colorado to see family. But I’d convinced my sister to stay home with me, because I didn’t want to go,” the words that were your mouth suddenly didn’t feel like yours. And the trembling hands in your lap didn’t feel like yours either. 

“The storm turned last minute. We barely had any warning. But I grabbed my sister– and we ran to the storm shelter. We made it, too– but then the door ripped open. When she went to shut it…” your voice trailed off. “Well you can use your imagination for the rest.”

You finally gathered up enough courage to glance up at Tyler. His eyes were fixated on you– sadness and sympathy plastered all over his face. “I’m so sorry,” he said genuinely. 

“Yeah, well…” you said weakly. “The worst part is– I think I remember locking the storm shelter door– but I wonder every single day of my life if I accidentally forgot. Which… I mean, convincing her to stay home already makes it partially my fault. But I can write that one off– and remind myself I didn’t know what was going to happen. But forgetting to lock the storm shelter?” you sighed. “That would be a harder one to forgive myself for.”

Tyler scooted closer towards you on the bed. He raised his hand– he was reaching out to comfort you. But then he pulled back, like he thought better. You were surprised by how disappointed that made you. 

“It’s not your fault–” Tyler assured you. 

It was the same thing your parents had said your whole life– so why couldn’t you believe it? 

“I guess it doesn't really matter whose fault it was,” you said. “She’s gone and I’m not. I took a few years off from chasing because I just couldn’t… I couldn’t get myself in the right headspace for it. Every time I saw a cell forming, I’d panic– and I’d want to run from it, not chase it. Things are better now… but every once and a while, I still run. Like today,” you admitted. “I knew the winds changed. I knew the one to the east was gonna die out. That’s why I chose it.” 

Tyler sighed. “And then I gave you shit for it,” he said, remorse in his tone. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” you admitted. “And I’m really grateful you let me crash in your room. I think if I’d been screamin’ like that in my car, it would’ve caused quite the scene.”

Tyler’s lips tugged into a gentle smile. “I told you I didn’t mind sharing when it came to you. Plus, I learned more about you during our little sleepover than I have in the last few years chasin’ next to you.” 

“Yeah, well…” you mumbled. “Don’t get used to it.”

Tyler smirked. “Does that mean you’re going to go back to hating me tomorrow, when we’re no longer roommates? Or have I finally cracked through that tough ole shell of yours?”

“You keep offerin’ me motel rooms for free and I’ll be an open book,” you laughed. 

Tyler nodded, like he was storing that offer for later. 

“Hey, I don’t know about you,” he said, suddenly clapping his thighs before standing up. “But all that screaming got me wide awake. You hungry? I’m buying.”

He held out his hand– waiting for you to take it. 

“Are you offering me a room and dinner in one night?” you teased. 

“And all you had to do was reveal your deepest, darkest secrets and traumas to me,” Tyler smirked. 

“Tyler Owens, you’re too easy,” you said, gladly taking his outstretched hand.

[cheyisagirlkisser]

・゜゜Gamer Ellie Headcannons ・．

NSFW CONTENT BELOW, MDNI

✧.* Gamer Ellie wears those plaid boxer-shorts around the house adorned with some random t-shirt she often sleeps in. When she's out and about, she loves her classic flannel or white wife-beaters, sports bra peeking out of the fabric when she moves just ever so slightly. Converse and doc-martins all the way. You'll beg her not to wear it in public, but Ellie's got this one black Call of Duty t-shirt that is she is obsessed with.

✧.* Gamer Ellie ismore introverted than anything. She likes staying inside with you and watching movies with you rather than going on restaurant dates. Speaking of movies, gamer Ellie would be more into comedy and sci-fi than anything. I've mentioned in previous headcannons Ellie would be a huge Jurassic park fan, but some other movie / shows she'd be begging you to watch with her are Airplane, Star Trek, and Pulp Fiction. Anything with action or on her level of dumb humor, and Star Trek for when she's geeking out. It's her guilty pleasure.

✧.* Gamer Ellie's favorite type of physical touch is having your fingers running through her hair. She likes to feels your touch in such a light, vulnerable way. Sometimes when she's playing a game, you'll approach her from behind and massage her scalp with your sweet touch. "Babe, you're distracting me!" She'll complain with a dramatic but playful groan, but her freckled face will melt like ice on a hot day from your touch.

✧.* Gamer Ellie isn't good at multi-tasking. She loves having you all up in her lap while her fingers are punching keys, but she always seems to lose when you're touching her, let alone near her. Why? Her thoughts are filled with the night before when the two of you were about to fall asleep, giggling in bed about some video on your phone, and specifically she's thinking about when you forgot all about sleep and had a late-night make-out session with some 90's movie tuned out on the television. It's so hard to remember to reload her virtual AR when all she's feeling is the way your warm fingers slid down her back and how your breathing turned into soft pants when she got all greedy and latched her filthy mouth onto your neck. Still, she'd never tell you to get off of her lap so she could focus. You were worth every aggravating respawn.

✧.* Gamer Ellie, in bed, isn't some huge dommy-mommy or whatever you're thinking. She's really touchy, sure. But she's honestly just your average lesbian who is absolutely obsessed with her girl, and she blanks at time. You'll be on top of her, and she's got this cave-woman aura going where she's just staring at your pretty face, focused on chasing your lips for a kiss. Her hands are awkwardly perched on her sides because she forgets how to even touch you: you're such a fucking goddess, and she's kind of a loser. You're a savior, though; guiding her hands to your waist with a sweet, patient smile. Ellie will get the cue and her fingers will spread across your waist to the top of your hips, and she remembers how desperate she is. (This one was inspired by me with my gf, you're so real gamer Ellie)

✧.* Gamer Ellie is also a switch! If you want her to be the top, she'll do it, but like I said she's going to be all cute and embarrassed about it. She'll be eating you out and her thoughts will be going at 100 miles per hour: "Am I doing this right?" "She's moaning Ellie, stop overthinking it." And sometimes the only thought she can really be having is "I love pussy." Cute. When she's bottom, which is most of the time, she isn't really all submissive and whiney but more like, defensively flustered like how she got with Dina when Dina threatened to bite her on the couch. Gay panic type of bottom. She does get pretty loud when you use a vibrator on her, though. That's a personal favorite in the bedroom.

✧.* Gamer Ellie did have a Fortnite phase. She hates talking about it but she spent like an ungodly amount on the stupidest skins. She used to make you watch her play at first, and then it was you having to create a whole Epic account so you could be her duo. Ellie's favorite season? Chapter two season seven. Why? Aliens. She got the battle pass and unlocked the alien skins, too. A little after she got super obsessed with it, like yelling at some 12 year old boy telling him his mother wishes she swallowed him, she moved on to a game that wasn't making her yell at at her screen. You were thankful.

✧.* Gamer Ellie is a huge night owl. While your sleep schedule is pretty average, she will blink and it'll be four in the morning. She'll groan and pop her back before stripping down to underwear and a t-shirt and then crash on your shared bed, making you stir from your rest. She sleepily curls her body into yours, peppering the warmest smooches wherever(probably with her eyes closed or half-way, at least) and muttering out apologies for waking you in the most ethereal voice known to woman-kind (it's raspy and the one she uses during sex when she's attempting to be a good top).

A/N: Thank you everyone for over 500 followers! I hope to post some longer fics this week or at least some more arcane fics. I promised some Jinx content, hopefully that'll be soon. Love you all.

[awordsmith]

omitted thoughts 𝜗𝜚 s.r

۶ৎ in which the tension between you and Spencer at work is almost too much to bare; lingering eyes and longing needs that are ignorant to the people around you, but all too easily perceived by the other.

who? spencer x bau!reader  when? s8  category: smut  content warnings: (maeve plotline does not exist, emily is still with the bau) munch spencer, tension here–tension there–tension everywhere, thorough foreplay (as in practically the entire fic), sexual acts, not too explicit, no dom/sub really mentioned–though spencer is a little more confident, proofed! reid with pleasure...  word count: 11.4k a/n: munch spencer as per requested by an anon!! this one has been in my filing cabinet for a while, so i'm glad i've finally gotten to write it out... also, new format–hey! okay i'll stop rambling... enjoy!!

There is a moment in every person’s life when they just know something sinister is about to unfold. That feeling found its way to you the exact moment the mixup with the rooms happened. It was bound to occur, it wasn’t like it was inevitable–you of all people were accustomed. Though, to be particularly truthful, it wasn’t the mixup that strangled your thoughts, no, it wasn’t as trivial as that.

What had your heart racing–your mind running–was that you were paired with Spencer. You should have said something. You were sure Emily would switch with you in a heartbeat–she and Spencer got along well enough, that it wouldn’t be a favor at all. However, even with this knowledge, you kept your mouth shut.

It was something in your gut, something in the darkest parts of your mind that swayed the moral, logical side.

It was late and the dimly lit hall only had so much life. You noted the old, peeling, pee-colored wallpaper; red flowers straying to and fro–if you tried hard enough, you could almost picture how it must have looked like in its prime.

Spencer made no effort to talk and for this you were grateful. You hadn’t had the chance to get too close to him in the few months you’ve been with the team. You were new, but not unaccustomed–you had been transferred almost six months ago with the help of thorough recommendations and pure skill–though you never pulled rank.

Hotch seemed a nice enough dad-boss, Rossi gave the impression of a comedic uncle most of the time, Morgan took his role as the older brother, Emily and JJ were great mentors and you were thrilled to be working alongside them, and you found Penelope to be a strong aunt-like figure. Spencer, though, you weren’t too sure where he fell in the categories you had enlisted just yet. 

He was a great mystery, one you were keen to unravel little by little.

“Do you have a preferred side?” Spencer asked after completing a skim with his bedbug flashlight.

“No,” you glanced around the room, two queen beds sat adjacent to each other only separated by a mediocre bedside table. A home phone sat close to the bed nearest the door and a lamp sat closest to the bed nearest the AC and window. The old, red velvet curtains were pulled back in what you thought was meant to be a kind gesture. Nevertheless, for an unknown reason, it left a bad taste in your mouth. “But, I do think we should close those,” you sighed, setting your duffle bag in the only chair in the room.

Spencer set his things on the bed near the window. You began untying the curtain closest to the bathroom. A shiver crawled up your spine as the air around you grew dry, you were seriously hoping for hot water. You meant to throw Spencer a hopeful glance, praying he’d let you take a shower first–but your eyes caught his hands instead. He was working his sleeves back, unbuttoning them as quickly as he could.

His sweater vest had been discarded and now lay in a bunched-up pile near his suitcase. You found yourself tracking his every move. He didn’t take notice of your stare until after he’d untied the curtain and met it with the one you had undid. You swiftly averted your eyes and swallowed, finding your throat had gone dry.

You cleared your throat and pushed your hair away, giving Spencer nothing but back, “If it’s alright with you, I’d like to shower first.”

Seconds ticked by and he said nothing, only when you heard a bed squeak did you turn back around. Spencer took up a space at the head of his bed, watching you with a look you were sure you’d never seen cross his face, it was almost smug, but not in the normal sense of the word–as indescribable as it was, it didn’t make you uncomfortable. You weren’t too sure what it made you feel.

“Is–is that a yes?” Your face felt hot, and you wanted to slap your hands to it, knowing it’d cool down somewhat, but you forced your hands to remain at your side.

“Yeah, sure,” he quipped, his voice the complete opposite of what his eyes conveyed.

You nodded and hurried over to your bag, leaving it at the foot of your bed when heading into the bathroom, which is where you found it upon exiting. 

Spencer had pulled pajamas out, they were neatly folded beside him. “I’d wait a little before showering,” you frowned, “sorry, I must have been in there for ages,” your mouth lilted in a slight smile as you tucked a lock of hair behind your ear and took up residence near the bedside table, “next time, just to tell me I’m taking too long, I won’t mind.”

He chuckled and you grinned, elated you finally were able to ease the unnecessary tension that had come over the two of you during your staring contest in the moments right before your shower.

“Seriously?” He sounded mirthful and when you looked up his eyes caught yours, your heart studded and you found your cheeks heating up again. He had an eyebrow raised slightly and the small smile that accompanied his expression gave off the impression he was teasing, “You’d be fine with me just walking into the bathroom while you’re in the shower?”

Your eyebrows scrunched together in slight confusion and you couldn’t help the awkward smile that wouldn’t leave your mouth, “I was just joking, Spencer, but–if I am taking too long you can bang on or yell through the door.

He nodded, looking away, “I–I know, I was just messing with you.”

“Oh, please,” you snorted and rolled your eyes, trying to crush the way your thoughts raced at the way you absolutely would not give a half a damn if he did. You pressed your hand to your cheeks for a few seconds before continuing to move things out of your bag, you were thinking about how to arrange them in the large chifforobe directly across from your bed. Did Spencer hav–you gasped and dropped an article of clothing as if it had burned you.

“That was not–” you scorned yourself, that was completely inappropriate. You blinked over a few times, thinking it would make the image disappear well from your mind, but it only served to intensify the phantasmagoria.

“Hey, are you okay?” Spencer was at your side after three blinks. Your eyes widened as he reached for your hands that were opening and closing, trying to grasp any control over yourself. 

You stood abruptly, unable to be in any sort of vicinity he was near. “I’m fine–I just, I remembered, I forgot something in the lobby. It must have fallen.” You shrugged, forcing a horrid excuse for a smile onto your lips. You left the room, heading straight for the elevator. You needed the cold-biting air of December to slap some sense into you, it was almost January, thus winter should have been approaching its peak right about now.

You have never–okay, yes, you’ve had small torrent thoughts of coworkers in somewhat unprofessional manners, but none had ever been so vivid–not like the one you had just then. As the elevator opened, you tried assembling the course of thoughts that had led up to the–the Spencer one.

It only took a few minutes for you to understand thinking about it was useless. There was no coherent explanation for the thought you had, no indication of any type of build-up that might have prepared you for the fabrication. 

“His eyes,” you heard yourself murmur as the elevator let you off onto the first floor. You ignored the receptionist whom you recognized from only a few hours ago. The glass door was as easily pushed open as it was to pull; the biting air hit your face and you sighed, relief allowing you to breathe once more.

His sleeves were rolled up, your arms laced around his neck as you pulled him against your flushed, exposed skin. You were nearly naked and all but begging him. You had it. His attention. Every single piece of it.

And you were relishing it as he fucked you against that damned chifforobe.

You were startled by the discovery of Spencer’s presence as he pushed open one of the glass doors of the hotel. The carpark was desolate save for the two of you and you felt more vulnerable than you had felt in the daydream.

“Hey,” Spencer lifted his hand slightly, sticking it back in his pocket right after as if he’d cringed at himself.

“Oh, hi,” you pressed your lips into a thin smile, squeezing your eyes so as not to give away the fact that you did not want him to be there.

“You–kind of ran off, I just wanted to make sure you were alright…” his eyes traced up and down your body as if in search of something. A slight smirk grazed his lips, but it was quickly replaced with a frown that felt a little too compelled, “did you find what you were looking for?”

“Nope,” you squeaked, rocking back and forth on your heels. You squeezed your hands together behind your back like you were in prayer or giving thanks, “sorry for bringing you out here, I thought I lost something important and overreacted.”

He didn’t acknowledge your answer immediately, though he did step forward and when he took another step forward, you were inclined to take a step back because you thought the proximity might prompt you to do or say something you definitely shouldn’t be doing or saying with a coworker. He raised his hand to your face, the back of his hand rested on one of your cheeks, your eyes shut on impact, your hands separated and were not fisted.

Your eyes opened when a few low chuckles escaped Spencer’s mouth, he huffed out a few more before pulling his hand back and using it to cover his mouth…watching you. His eyes held that same smug amusement that you’re sure you’ve never seen before this night.

You met his stare, noting that with the coverage of his hand, his expression was just a bit easier to read. Your lips settled into a thin line as you concluded he was messing with you. You cast an unbothered expression over your face, though you felt anything but. “I think the water should be hot enough now.”

Disregarding the moral obligation of waiting for a response, you headed for the hotel’s entrance.

The elevator ride-up wasn’t as tense as you would have thought it to be. You could feel a calm rest over each other’s company. It was almost like a mutual understanding that did not need voicing. Back in the hotel room, Spencer headed into the bathroom without a word, again, you found yourself grateful he decided to spare you.

Even so, you did find it just a bit peculiar because Spencer had never before taken on any particular interest in you, sure you shared conversations–that was to be expected though, as you worked with him. You shared meals and nights out, though only when it was a group thing.

To be sure he drew your curiosity, but you never once thought about indulging in your secret desire because it just never seemed right. This mixup had felt like a gift from God when it was first introduced, because now–you had thought–we’ll be forced to be around each other, no doubt we’ll grow somewhat accustomed to each other’s habits. 

Perhaps the thought was a bit excessive, but it was simply the truth to you. How else were you to casually approach Dr. Spencer Reid? The youngest to be scouted in his field?

Well, you now thought grimly, scratch all that, he’s just a genius with an ego.

You approached the chifforobe hesitantly, then hastily sorted your clothing in a few drawers and on a few hangers that were already there. As you set your duffle bag at the bottom of the large space, you heard the shower squeak off and Spencer called your name.

You rolled your eyes but walked toward the bathroom, calling from your side of the closed door, “what?” 

“I,” his voice cut off and just when you thought you had waited long enough, the bathroom door swung open halfway and Spencer leaned out. 

The first thing you noticed–though unintentionally–was the steam that hit you in the face. You squinted and waved a hand before you, “Jeez, Spencer.”

His face–his hair was wet and water dripped down his head–looked a bit painted, “I left my towel in my bag, get it for me?” 

He sounded genuinely displeased at the situation, which is why you huffed and replied, “Fine.”

“Thank you,” he yelled, shutting the door again. You ignored the flip your stomach did and shivered. 

He had left his suitcase open, his things in a bit of disarray across the bed. You wavered only a moment before letting your hands fly up and down his things. His towel was quite easily discovered, though your eyes lingered on the rest of his things.

You stood and headed back toward the bathroom, knocking. Spencer appeared instantly, a smile spreading to his face. The steam had cooled somewhat, but the bathroom–you could tell–was still very much sauna-like. “Thank you.”

“You said that already.”

He raised a brow, his smile quirking, “thank you, again.”

He stole the towel and shut the door, leaving you standing there. You felt impulsive and thought there would be no way you could get through this entire trip by sharing a room with him. And yet, it was your job, and it would no doubt be questioned, you’d probably–by accident–allude to something that did not occur, and you’d both be in trouble for something so ridiculous: it shouldn’t even be a thought that crossed your mind when you looked at your coworker and yet–the bathroom door opened and Spencer walked out in only a towel–it did.

“What do you think you're doing?” You called from your bed, standing.

“It’s too moist in there, I won’t dry.” He replied as if it were a fact and not an atrocity.

“Yeah–but–” you bit your lip, eyes tracking up and down his torso, something you should most unquestionably not be doing.

He was bent over his things on the bed near the window, you turned your gaze on the floor when his eyes flickered to yours. “But what?” He paused, probably noting your expression, your pursed lips, and your unstill gaze. “I mean, if it makes you uncomfortable I can go back in. I don’t want to–I’m sorry.” You swore you could hear a lilt in his voice when he began, but it quickly turned into something more…appropriate–like he just realized the embarrassment of what he was doing. He gathered his clothes again and headed for the bathroom, returning a few minutes later in damp garments.

And though his frown said ‘I’m sorry,’ his eyes said, ‘I’m going to give you hell’. And hell it was. For the rest of the trip, you could swear Spencer did…things purposefully. Such as lifting his shirt slightly to wipe his face when he got out of the shower, turning his neck just barely so that your gaze would catch on the exposed collarbone. You swore up and down that these were being done on purpose just to make you squirm because–because–well you didn’t really know why Spencer was doing all that. 

But you knew it was for you, that was about the only thing you knew to be fact. Your nose scrunched as you recalled the looks he’d given you after every purposeful act–in such a way that it seemed like he wanted to see your reaction–as if he gets off on it.

The jet ride home was no exception to Spencer’s antics, but by this time you had decided for yourself you’d had enough of falling victim to him. You concluded that there could only be one reason Spencer was acting the way he was: because he was attracted to you. You didn’t know why–hell you couldn’t even explain why you were attracted to him in that way–but it piqued your curiosity. If he had the ability to get you to react in such distinct and significant ways, what power did you have over him? That was the dispute you set out to ascertain.

At first, it was harmless, quiet jokes told only loud enough for the two of you to hear. When the jet landed again, you ran a hand through your hair and threw your head back, as if trying to stretch. Your eyes popped open just a few minutes later to find Spencer’s eyes eating up everything from your neck to your collarbone. When he met your eyes, they weren’t amused but rather accusing. He had fallen into your trap and he had just now realised. Some genius, you found yourself regarding him with an internal snort.

“We get the day off tomorrow, right?” Emily’s tone was mirthful, full of sarcasm.

“Yeah, right.” Morgan groaned.

Hotch grimaced, “See you all tomorrow.”

“At nine?” Rossi sounded hopeful.

Your boss sighed, eyes: rolling, but a smile etching itself onto his face, “At nine.”

Small victories, a sigh escaped you under your breath, small victories.

You headed for your car, rummaging through your purse for your keys. A presence loomed over you and you froze, Spencer’s hand lightly pressed against your back as he leaned over you and tilted his head downward, “See you tomorrow —…”

Your breath caught and you tried to swallow, but your mouth was dry. Was this real? Was this not the nerdy little geek you were told you’d be working with? The guy who kept getting kidnapped? The one who could barely hold a gun four years into working in the BAU?

He walked away, down the row of cars, looking for the one he owned.

Despite yourself, your lips curled into a sinful grin. You already loved this game. 

The next morning, you caught Spencer stepping into the elevator, “hold the door!” You threw your hand out, as you rushed your footsteps.

The elevator wasn’t crowded, but there were five others you did not know, and they were all men, so naturally you moved closer to Spencer. It wasn’t on purpose, but nor was it an accident, more of an instinct. His presence gave you peace of mind as you calmed yourself down.

“Rough morning?” He asked, appearing nonchalant.

You looked up at him as he took a sip of his coffee. The elevator came to a halt and two people shuffled into the elevator after three others left. Your floor was approaching and you felt easier–especially with the extra space–but when you stepped away, a hand caught your waist.

You followed the arm all the way to Spencer’s gaze, the expression there looked to be a mix of contemplation and confusion. His hand dropped when the elevator dinged and the doors opened. He was the first to step out of the elevator, you were the fourth.

Penelope found you on her way to the roundtable, stating the others were already there. You followed her and took the only available seat in between Morgan and JJ. Spencer sat right across from you, between Emily and Rossi. When you caught his eyes, his head tilted slightly and a small smirk danced across his lips in the bright light. 

Your eyes rolled and you shifted one leg over the other under the table. 

Penelope read off the new case and while many questions were thrown out, you and Spencer kept playing the game of ‘who could make who more embarrassed’; though you both were incredibly refined at your job and were able to keep it from the insight of the others.

Hotch stood and said, “jet’s up in 15,” before rushing out of the room.

You stood as well, needing to collect all the things you might have left on your desk and turn in your report to Hotch you forgot. Rossi had followed your boss–it was probably something about Strauss, it always was whenever they acted like that. Emily, Morgan, and Penelope were having a conversation while JJ said something to Spencer and began a small exchanges. Your eyes were laser focused on her, you felt a sort of conviction fall over you. You didn’t think you were jealous, no–it was anything like that because you knew Spencer was only trying to get under your skin. Instead, you felt a sense of thrill and couldn’t help the smirk that edged its way onto your face as you floated right past them without batting an eye.

You heard his chair squeak as he leaned back, eyes trailing your figure as you exited the roundtable room. Upon approaching your desk you smacked your hands to your cheeks, helping them cool off while ignoring the chatter of the office. You searched your bag a bit until you found the documents you had been looking for.

You froze, you could feel his stare, but when you glanced around, you couldn’t find him anywhere. Your eyes narrowed as you sifted through each and every face, there–in the breakroom behind the glass… Spencer had one hand in his pocket and one holding a mug of coffee, his eyes anything but innocent. He mouthed something, but only when you noted the absense of your other team members were you able to put together his words. We’re leaving.

You met each other in the stairwell of the rooftop, you ignored the simmering in your chest as he veered over you and pushed open the door. He smelled good– god he smelled good. You forced yourself not the make it obvious you were trying to drink in and savor his scent when he let out a shuddering breath. Your eyes popped open–which is when you realized you had shut them. What is wrong with me? You allowed your eyes to track up his face, starting from his shoulders.

He was so close you could see him swallow, his Adam's apple bobbing as he stared you donw, mouth slightly ajar. His eyes were hazy and he wasn’t staring at you, but your throat. It was only for a few seconds, but it felt like hours. When he found your gaze again his jaw yet and he pulled himself together. His eyes were no longer dangerous, but they still set some kind of fear in you.

“We should go,” you murmured.

He didn’t respond until you began moving. He called your name only once, but when you looked back, a grin–small, but fucking there–destroyed his firm calmness from only moments ago, and replaced it with egotistical destruction.

There were so much said in that single expression and yet nothing at all that would have been picked up by a team of profilers, let alone a stranger–it was as if this look was designed specifically for you–designed just to become your undoing. You fucking hated Spencer Reid and his big ass ego, but you wanted him–by all hell you wanted him.

Though you’d soon find that wanting him was nothing compared to needing him.

The rest of the case came and went in a similar manner you had dreamt about the night before. You and Spencer shared lingering looks, murmured things in front of the team that, though made sense in the moment, his the underlying meaning only the two of you could pick up. You honestly found it surprising no one had caught on to what was transpiring between you and Spencer, although to be perfectly honest, you, yourself, had no idea what was transpiring between you and Spencer.

You didn’t seek each other out, but whenever you were together–alone or with others–there was this spark of craving you couldn’t quite explain out loud, and even when you thought about it, you didn’t know the right term for it other than a game. What else could it be? You couldn’t relly put togehter the events that had started it, but you knew it began sometimes on the 3-day case–maybe even that first night in the hotel. A shiver crawled up your spine, you watched Spencer out of the corner of your eye, reading. He could normally be found in the front of the jet, lying down and napping or reading.

When you were alone, all your thoughts revolved if not around the case at hand, Spencer. You didn’t want to compare it to an obsession, because what it really was was a little less of that and a little more of a desire to learn him. His body, his mind, his cravings and and fantasies. It was everything you had never felt and it scared you. There was no logical explanation to Spencer being the onset to these emotions, and yet if you’d never met Spencer, who was to say these feelings would have ever been unleashed?

It was late, but you were glad you were going to get to sleep in your bed two nights in a row. It felt like a blessing from the heavens, but then your realzied you’d have to see Spencer again tomorrow and go through the fervency all over again. Now, it felt more like irony.

Weeks of the same longing, the same wandering eyes, the same muttered whispers, the same damn game. Though you’d gotten used to your little gambit of brash actions, you weren’t tired in the least. It was–as sad as you had to admit–the most fun you’d ever had with a person.

It was fun until it became real. The team hadn’t caught on, but that was particularly due to the fact your efforts always occurred out of pure chance. You never made it obvious and he was especially good at hiding his feats, it seemed to you he was consistently able to accomplish his devious acts right under the nose of his superiors. 

You reasoned that it was perhaps because none of them would ever suspect him of any of the things he was taking up in his pastime. Not even yourself would have guessed he was like this if he hadn’t shown you, or if you hadn’t noticed the way his eyes always seemed to look the opposite of whatever his face was saying in the moment.

Despite all of this, however, you hadn’t touched–at all, no brush of the hands, no accidental shoulder bumping, nor anything on purpose; not since he’d grabbed your waist in the elevator that first day back at Quantico. The contemplation in his eyes then occurred to you at night. You tried to make out what it meant–to him at least, but never could. It was one of those thoughts that kept you up, staring at the ceiling, hoping exhaustion would so its job and prevent the misery that inveitable came without it.

Tonight, though, you didn’t know how you were going to fare against pretending to be with him. It was for the case–you kept reminding yourself as you changed into a little black dress. Everyone looked good in black, it was a color that also hid a person well enough in a club–perfect for an undercover agent.

The decision to have you go in with Spencer instead of JJ was his idea. Of course it was his. He’d proposed the switchup at the roundtable meeting that morning–and as soon as he had, you’d jolted in your seat. He’d continued talking, glancing at you now and then as if he’d actually believed the difference between you and JJ would matter.

Regardless, because you were closer in age–by only a few years, you’d wanted to remind everyone–it’d be more believable that you were together, he’d also dropped an “it’d be more comfortable that way”, which swayed Morgan and Emily, JJ kept silent during the entire tirade–though not angry, was incredibly, almost blatantly long. 

You couldn’t tell what she was thinking, but at the time you weren’t too much focussed on her, the looming fact that you’d have to touch him in ways you’d only thought about touching him to do your job? It terrified you. Not because you were afraid of acting out your fantasy–but because you weren’t sure if you could control yourself enoug to where it was just acting.

You slipped the dainty dress on and hid your gun and badge in your boots. You let your natural hair fall loose, but kept a hair tie on your wrist. Stepping out of the only bathroom in the police station you were currently residing in, holding your work clothes against your chest , you noted the imminent stares. Instinctively using your clothing to cover your thighs as you met the others in the front. Spencer kept his eyes in check–smart boy, you bit back a smirk–but the rest of the team complimented you, Hotch and Rossi having almost completely different ways of doing so, you snorted at the contrast. 

Spencer took the driver seat of a vehicle you were borrowing, the dark of a December night threatening to conceal the thing entirely. You gazed out the window, “they’re following us right?”

“Everyone will be outside and prepared.”

“I can’t believe this,” you sighed, throwing your head back.

“The fact that we’re going undercover or the fact that you have to wear that piece of cloth?” Spencer asked, though his manner was light, there was a rough undertone that heated your insides.

“I was wondering when you were going to bring it up,” you sighed carelessly, waving a hand, “I just thought you hadn’t noticed.”

“Everyone noticed.” The mask of his facade was slowly slipping away, revealing a much colder side to Spencer–one you had the pleasure of seeing more and more of the past three weeks than in all of the six months you’d been in the BAU.

“Yeah,” you smooth down the dress, “I wouldn’t normally wear this type of thing out unless I was looking to bring someone home.”

“Oh really?” You could practically hear his eyebrows raise. “You never wear things like that when we go out for drinks.”

“Precisely my point,” you quipped.

Spencer pulled into the club’s parkinglot. It took you less than five minutes to get inside. At first, you were sitting at the bar, but then, Spencer, with the earpiece attached to him, relayed the message from Hotch. Penelope had given everyone access to the inside of the club, they were watching you two through the cameras. You forced yourself not to glance at them–even the tiniest slipup could reveal you to the unsub, and you wanted them to target, not avoid you.

“They want us to dance.” Spencer sighed loud enough to where you could hear it over the noise.

“Right,” you rolled your eyes, because that’s exactly how the unsubs target their victims–didn’t we go over this in the profile? Your smile tightened as you spun and headed for the floor, crowded by so many–oh that’s not hygienic.

“Yeah, okay, maybe we skip this part,” Spencer grimaced from his palace beside you.

“You think?” You raised an unimpressed brow at the blurred figures in front of you.

He murmured something Hotch and they went back and forth a little, though you couldn’t hear exactly what was said, Spencer’s face of triumph was all you needed to breathe a sigh of relief.

You found yourselves hiding in the corner at the back, there weren’t many people crowding around you which made you perfect for the unsubs, though the appearance of them at this club tonight was purely based on instinct, gut feelings, and careful, calculated guessing, there was still a chance they wouldn’t show themselves.

You didn’t mean for it to happen like this, you were doing everything in your power to stay composed and in control, but some part of you–the defiant, terrible side of you–wanted so badly to see his reaction when you touched him.

His frame leaned over you, holding you against the probably dirty wall, the sensual music that played a heavy beat around you felt like an instigator. Sweat slipped down his neck and it drew your attention, all of a sudden Spencer tensed, then he relaxed slightly but it felt forced, “They have eyes on the unsubs.”

“How many,” You compelled your eyes to stay on his though they wanted to scour the area around you and find just exactly who he was talking about–which would be idiotic, of course.

“That’s right,” he swallowed–ignoring your question, your eyes caught his throat bobbing–he noticed. “Keep your eyes on me,” you nodded at his words, feeling your throat drying as you neglected the need to trace his collarbone with both your fingers and gaze.

His hair was a mess of damp curls and his face was barely visible in the bright, flashing lights, but you had a job to do–and yet here you were, gripping the collar of his shirt, brushing back the hair that fell in his face as he looked at you with those eyes.

“I’m going to kiss you,” he said, “but if you aren’t up for this just tell me now.” His voice lilted at a challenge, but you heard the mumble ordered in the earpiece–by hell he could yank you hair almost completely out and you wouldn’t give a damn.

You held his regard with one of your own, eyes narrowed, “Just do it.”

And he did. But he also didn’t. His smirk narrowed ere leaning in. He gripped your face with an elephants strength and a swan’s gracefulness. You closed your eyes, waiting for his lips, but he swerved at the last moment and kissed the skin below your ear. He trailed a few kisses down your neck but stayed close to your hearing range, evidently, he was teasing–you wanted to scoff but couldn’t find it in you to make him stop.

“How’s this?” He murmured.

“You’re an ass,” you replied huffed, trying to mask a groan.

He grinned against your neck, “I know.”

The club case was the reason you and Spencer now ensured you were always together. From then on, you seemed to not want to be anywhere else the other wasn’t–or rather, you felt more comfortable with each other and couldn’t bring yourselves to leave the other alone.

Not that either of you minded and you still did your jobs perfectly fine–though there was more intensity when the other was in any sort of danger, it only propelled the one that wasn’t to learn how to do their job quicker. It was both a fast track to understanding how to adapt to constant situations that warped your idea of what was really going on. When he got something wrong–which was rare but not absolute. After about a month of this, you were starting to question what you were to him–what he was to you.

Though you still weren’t sure how to properly ask that question. You hadn’t slept together, though you thought about it all the time you weren’t at work…and perhaps sometimes when you were… Those thoughts slipped through on occasion–but it wasn't anything that hadn’t been transpiring before the club case.

It was as if the ‘who can make the other person more embarrassed’ game had been turned into the ‘what can I do to make you squirm this time’ game. Like the rules of the game had somehow intensified and touching was now allowed and despite all of the things that ensued upon the new rule instatement, you still had not taken it further than work.

It kept you up most nights, and you wondered when this cycle of what are we would end–if it would take one of you getting into a relationship–though you were sure Spencer didn’t have to worry about you in that department–and although you hated it, the fact was that Spencer was the only one you could think about. It was as if the man had ruined sex for you altogether. 

You fucking hated Spencer Reid–and that fucking chifforobe. 

Your heart dropped in your chest. You refused to give Spencer the satisfaction of looking over at him–though he seemed just as surprised as you. At this point anything could happen–and by anything you mean anything. Because anything would be better than having to share a room with him again. You were so tired you could barely recall what that even meant.

But then again, a small part of you whispered, this could be your chance. My chance? You scoffed, my chance at what? Making a fool of myself? Because confronting him means admitting I can’t stop–thinking about him. And that, to you, would feel like admitting defeat. It’d feel like losing the game–oh and you really felt like you were winning! Winning at what again? God, you needed sleep.

“Are you planning on getting in the shower first?,” he asked as soon as you were behind the door, away from prying ears and nosy coworkers.

You let out a heavy sigh and held your arms up to stretch, yawning–“honestly, I might just head to bed, it’s late and I could really use the sleep.”

“Have you not been able to sleep at night?” He set his things on the bed near the window as you claimed the one near the door.

“You have no idea,” you murmured, although a bit more to yourself than to him.

“Do you know why?” He seemed genuinely curious–but as you faced him, all you could think was, if only you knew.

“Nope,” you popped the ‘p’ and grimaced as you laid your back against the bed, arms spread like a starfish, your duffle bag discarded near your feet at the end of the bed.

You felt Spencer watching you, but for the first time in a while, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You quite literally had been running on nothing but coffee for the past day and a half–and you were in desperate need of some sleep–especially if you wanted to be at your best tomorrow.

“Here,” you hadn't heard Spencer approach you–you blamed his Hotch training. You cracked open an eye as he pushed you on your side. Your back burned at where he’d touched you, but it was quickly overshadowed when you heard him yank the bedspread down as hard as he could. “Come, on,” he huffed, pulling your shoes off and setting them beside your bag.

You forced yourself under the cover and snuggled, “the light?” you grumbled.

“First, your blazer,” he held out a hand. You whined but made quick work of ridding yourself of the fabric. “You sure you don’t want to change into something more comfortable–”

“Spencer.” You warned.

“Yeah, I hear you,” he reached for the lamp atop the bedside table–smaller than the one from the last hotel room you’d shared–the chifforobe near the window was smaller as well. He hummed as the thoughts faded in and passed through his mind.

Spencer found himself forgetting everything else as he sat in the bed opposite yours and leaned his arms on his thighs, watching you. A few minutes passed, but only when a knock sounded on the door did he realize he maybe shouldn’t be watching his coworker like a creep. Though, you weren’t really a coworker, were you?

Well–he meant you were–but you were also more than that, though he didn’t exactly know if your relationship had a name, he knew that it entailed things normal coworkers did not have. He knew what he wanted–but to outright say it felt like disrupting the sort of balance you’d gotten accustomed to–as if going out and actually attempting to take what he wanted would break the trance that had set over the two of you–it’d be throwing all the rule’s to the game away, and then what did either of you have left? Rules were important, if not necessary. He couldn’t chance it–not yet at least.

“Hey, oh,” Morgan tried looking around the room.

Spencer felt his eyes roll as he stepped into the hall and shut the door slightly behind him, careful not to shut it completely as he didn’t have the key card and he didn’t want to wake you up. “Yes?”

Morgan nodded behind him, “she’s asleep?”

“She’s really tired,” Spencer affirmed.

“Right,” his eyes fell back on Spencer, and for a second, he thought Morgan might be analyzing his form.

“Was there something you needed?” Spencer pressed, eager to head back into the room, unpack his suitcase, and head to bed himself.

“Ah, no, we were just going to order food–but I guess you don’t want anything either?”

“Uh, no, but thanks for asking.”

“Uh-huh,” Morgan once again glanced behind Spencer, whose irritation at the suspicion was steadily increasing.

“She’d not dead,” Spencer stated, though he meant it as a joke it came out rather harsh.

“Alright, pretty boy, I didn’t say she was.” Morgan chuckled, patting Spencer on the shoulder, “See you tomorrow.”

Spencer made quick work of unloading his things, he thought about getting in the shower but feared it’d wake you. Instead, he debated on whether or not he should leave your things in you bag or do you a favor and put them away. He didn’t want you to consider him a snoop, especially with how you’d been looking at each other the past few weeks–and that undercover case.

His heartbeat picked up, and he couldn't stop thinking about it–it was the thing he fell asleep to at night; it was gradually eating away at him, and he couldn’t deny the way his body tensed whenever he recalled the image of you under the flashing array of lights–how you’d looked so…submissive.

He hastily shoved that thought to the furthest corner he could find in his mind and headed for your bag. He didn’t want to be brash with the way he put your clothing away, but he also didn’t you to wake up while he was holding your underwear–then he’d truly feel like a creep. 

He was halfway done when you mumbled something; he froze and he could feel the thump of his heart in his chest. Though it was still winter, he’d begun to sweat and had set his glasses aside because they kept sliding off the bridge of his nose. He’d been wearing them more often than not for the past few months as he’d found them to be a particular fascination of yours. It was now that he squinted and moved his hand around for them.

His footsteps carried him quietly across the room, near your bedside. “—?” He whispered and when you failed to respond, lifted a tentative hand to your cheek–though just before the pads of his fingertips met your skin, you mumbled something again–and this time, he could hear it. He fisted his hand and used the bedside table to hold himself up, and although he couldn’t see them, he knew his hands were turning white with how hard he was squeezing them.

Again. He wanted to hear it again–his prayers were answered as you shifted slightly, tugging the cover up to your neck. Skimming down your person, he bit his fist and tried to calm himself down. Again. He needed to sit down, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. He felt it twitch–he needed to walk away right now. And he did, but instead of picking up where he’d left off with your clothing, he headed for the bathroom, not bothering to turn the light on as he shut himself in complete darkness.

Images of you, your stolen glances, and desperate touches filled his mind. He was particularly focused on the tired way you slurred his name in your sleep. He wondered what kind of dreams you were having, what you were picturing as you said his name like that. He muffled his groans as he stroked himself, using his fist to bite back anything that might escape the small confines of the washroom. His thoughts of you were possibly the only thing he allowed himself to go to extensive lengths with. His mouth watered at the mere concept of you and your twisting legs. He’d done this a considerable amount of times before–but this was the first time you were so close– a hairsbreadth away.

It felt both right and wrong, and yet the lines began fading into oblivion as he came closer to climax.

He whimpered into his hand just as he came. It was odd, he didn’t too much feel like a creep after he cleaned himself up, but upon washing his hands profusely and returning to put your garments away, he was once more–afraid of what you’d think if you caught him messing with your things.

Although a part of him felt it might have been because he wanted you to find him in that state, he tried rationalizing–but the more he thought about it–even as he now rested his head against a pillow–the more he found that ‘might’ to be absolute truth. 

You woke up to the smell of coffee. You stretched, yawned, and pried your eyes open. Rolling onto your side, you found Spencer devouring a book, his glasses at the tip of his nose. You smiled, thinking you were dreaming–but then his eyes shifted over to yours and your smile fell, you quickly understood this Spencer was real–oh no–your cheeks burned from last night's delusions. “Good morning,” he smiled. You groaned and sat up, your hands finding your cheeks, “what time is it?”

“It’s around six, you have,” he checked his watch, “an hour and thirty minutes, Hotch wants us ready before eight.”

You huffed and threw yourself back against the pillows. New Years had come and gone and you hadn't even celebrated...though, your mind with all the ways you could make up for it–you shook the thoughts away, now was not the time.

Five minutes later you were searching for your clothing, but your bag was practically empty, “did you move my things?”

Spencer choked on his coffee, “ah–yeah,” he motioned toward the chifforobe. You glared at it as he said, “It’s small, so some of our things are mixed, but you should be able to find whatever you’re looking for easily.”

“Thank you” You appreciated his simple act of affection, it made your chest ache.

“Yeah, sure.” Despite going back to reading his book, Spencer snuck small glimpses of you from the corners of his eyes.

As the hot water ran down your back, you found yourself thinking of Spencer, just a few feet away, you were practically naked and he could walk in at any moment, you felt an ache between your thighs, but you shrugged it off–or at least you tried to.

You hadn’t had sex since that incident with Spencer a few weeks ago. You tried–by all God did you try–but you just couldn’t It led to a few arguments with the guys you’d taken home–and your credit, you did feel just a little bad. All the same, you simply couldn’t seem to get him out of your mind. It was like he was mocking or watching you every time you attempted it–he was that tiny, little voice in the back of your head feigning disappointment, saying you wouldn’t purge the sexual frustration unless it were him. Though you were a saint at keeping it hidden, your agitation only built.

The day was more or less: “Spencer, what do you see?” from Hotch and “—, if you were the unsub…” from Morgan. Penelope was on call a few times and you were so close, but it had grown late and you needed sufficient unwinding. After a group dinner in the hotel lobby that primarily consisted of takeout and the small meal provided by the hotel staff, you headed up to your room. Spencer stayed to grab one last cup of coffee before the staff closed the mailroom for good. Thus, with your alone time, you decided to wash off all the griminess of the day.

You were drying yourself with a towel when you heard him enter, “I’m almost done,” you shouted, “I think there’s still some hot water left.”

His lack of response piqued your curiosity. You threw your clothing on once you were mostly just damp and yanked the door open. You were pulling your hair back into a ponytail when he looked up. He’d just set his cup of coffee on the table near the lamp, which now that you noticed, was the only light that lit up the room, he had turned the big llight off.

“You okay?” You rubbed your face, dropping your hands to your side right after, “did you hear me?”

“No, sorry,” he frowned, “I wasn’t paying attention.” He stood.

“Oh, I just said–if you wanted to get in, there’s still hot water left.” You thrust a your thumb behind you.

“Ah, thanks.” You nodded and pursed your lips. “So, what book were you reading this morning?” You took up the spot Spencer had just abandoned.

He turned and watched you–filling the area. He caught the way your legs pressed together as you crossed them to sit more comfortably against the pillows, attention to the book he’d been reading that morning.

“I’m going to get in the shower,” he cursed himself as he felt desire pool in his throat. He wondered what it’d be like to kiss you, to touch you–to taste you. His mouth watered at the prospect and he felt himself harden just like the night before. His shower was quick as the water had gotten cold and had quickly ruined his mood.

“You lied to be,” he glared at you from the threshold of the bathroom door.

You bit your lip, but still, a smile graced your mouth, “sorry, I thought it would last.” He shook his wet hair around around, mimicking the actions a puppy would.

“What?” His eyes widened slightly and his eyebrows raised, “what did you call me?”

A hand flew to your mouth, your own surprise showing, “I–” of bloody course, you said it out loud.

He stepped forward, dropping his towel on the bed, “say it again.” It was odd, the way he said it–like it was both a question and a demand–or rather, a demand he questioned your willingness to obey.

“…puppy?” you tried laughing it off, “Sorry, it just came out–I didn’t mean t–”

“Didn’t you, though?” Came a mirthful reply. Spencer stepped forward, towering over you as he leaned down, bringing his face near yours, one hand on the bed near your hips, the other on the bedside table. “Is that what you’ve thought of me this entire time?”

And what the hell were you supposed to say to that? Game on is what Spencer saw in your eyes as you set the book on the table, your hand purposely roaming over his as you pulled it back. “No,” you stated, a nonchalant expression crossing your features as your eyes turned away from his, the move calculated, “only sometimes.”

Spencer didn’t think the table would be able to withstand him much longer, but it did as he thought of ways he might proceed. Eventually, he let go and instead wrapped his firm fingers around your nape, forcing your attention to his. “And do you think that now?”

He watched a Chesire grin take its place upon your mouth. “If I said yes, would that anger you, Dr. Reid?” The mocking was unnecessary, but it sure as hell was a lot more fun than if you simply addressed him as ‘Spencer’ or ‘Reid’.

The parental-like tone you took up furthered his new-growing erection. His hair still dripped with water and as a water droplet streaked down his face, you lifted your hand to wipe it with your thumb. His hand let your your neck go to snatch your wrist–God you wanted him so badly. This witty banter–you were already starting to find–just wasn’t enough anymore.

Your eyes reapproached his, they seemed to meet with the same level of desire, completely forgetting that there was a serial killer on the loose, your eyes dipped to his lips only once before you leaned forward–but while you did he pushed you back, your back hitting the bedframe and just as you caught your breath, you found yourself being deprived of air once more.

Spencer was hungry, he tasted like coffee and something minty. Your hands tangled through his hair and while he suffocated you in the only way you’d ever want to be suffocated, you tugged. It barely stopped him the first time, but the second and third had his eyes rolling.

When they found you again, noting the playful glint in your eyes, he vowed he would go as far as you’d let him tonight–and perhaps the night after that, he hadn’t quite thought it through, and at this time, he neither had the strength nor the want to do so. 

He began tugging at your t-shirt, but you grabbed his hand, “ah-ah,” you clicked your tongue, “you have to earn that.” 

He paused and took a step back, watching you now, your knees digging into the softness of the mattress; your mouth darkened with the visceral kisses he’d forced on you. Your eyes sparked with something he knew he’d never be able to find in any other woman. His lips quirked, his eyes were hooded, and his voice thick when he asked, “What do I have to do?”

The need in his voice was enough to shed you of your clothing right then and there, but it seemed you had a lot more self-control than he did in the moment. You tugged your hair out of the loosened, droopy ponytail it had fallen into and brushed it back, smoothing it out to appear just how you wanted it to. You felt his eyes on you, patient, but every second he was, was a second his lust grew, and the moment you gave him the okay–well, he honestly couldn’t say just what he’d be capable of.

“You seem agitated, Spencer,” you pouted, shifting so that your legs fell in front of you over the edge of the bed. His eyes tracked your movements as he used your bed’s bedpost to steady himself, “just how many times have you pictured me like this?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” came his frivolity response. To be frank, he knew the exact answer to your question, but the first thing that flew into his head and out of his mouth was–to be sure–an edging reply. He watched how you interpreted it.

In a moment of unconsciousness, you glanced at the chifforobe across from you. Spencer caught that shit.

“Oh?” He raised a brow, finding the confidence to step forward.

“Don’t get any ideas, Reid.” You warned, but he could see the arguments going on between your eyes.

“No, see: I think it’s your idea.” He corrected, a deep, rumble of a laugh fell from his throat, “So, what exactly did you picture me doing with this thing.” He snorted and walked over to it, running a hand along the cupboard. You bit your lit, your dreams coming into clear view as if they were a film playing in front of you.

“Spencer,” you stood both embarrassed and a little annoyed. 

You marched over to it at placed a hand on his shoulder–but then you were against the doors of the small chifforobe and Spencer was whispering just above your ear, “Was this it? Your sick fantasies of me? Did they include me having you against a wardrobe?”

Your breath caught and you wanted to hide your face because there was no doubt he’d be able to see the truth without you having to voice any sort of answer–but the jerk had his hand cupped around your jaw, and his grip was unimaginably strong for–well, him.

He smiled and tilted his head–and God only knew what that did to your resolve. Your knees weakened and you found yourself whimpering. “So, I guess that’s a yes.” You found just enough strength to narrow your eyes and look somewhat pissed. He nodded, “the shirt,” he tugged at the bottom.

You bit back a repost as he dropped his hands and stepped away, though he kept his distance close enough to where you felt his presence even after you’d lifted your shirt and he was out of sight. His eyes didn’t leave yours, you admired his stoicism; you’d already proved you weren’t any match when your eyes traced every line anytime you saw a sliver of his stomach, hips, neck, or forearms–okay maybe you had a bit of an obsession, but could it honestly be considered that when the look he was giving you screamed ‘wolf in sheep's clothing’? 

“What other things have you thought up in that horny brain of yours, I wonder,” he spoke almost to himself, but his ever-focused gaze told you he was quite literally asking.

“That’s not how the game works,” a cheeky grin reformed your scowl.

“Right,” he paused, turning his eyes to the ceiling for effect, “remind me?”

Your eyes roved from one eye to the other, and back again, searching for any hint of hesitation, “this foreplay is kind of starting to get old.”

“Yes, I can agree–” you cut him off midsentence with a ravenous kiss. You could swear you bit him more than once, but he wasn’t complaining. Your head lulled to the side as he trailed kisses up and down your neck, finding a spot he particularly liked just below your ear.

Your hands twisted in his hair, yanking, tugging, and pulling–whatever got the most responses from him, you were doing. You threw his shirt to the side and pushed him toward the bed. He braced himself using his arms, though they were swiftly in motion again, wrapping around your waist as you stepped between his legs. “What do you want?” You asked, attempting to catch your breath.

He laughed, but when he realized you were serious he almost snorted, “What do I–what do I want?”

“It’s a simple question,” you shrugged, “what do you want from me?”

Now–now his eyes dipped, “I want a lot of things.”

You bit back another grin. Somehow in the few minutes, you’d been running around the room talking about how horny you both were, you’d ended up on the bed, your head behind a pillow. Spencer was between your legs, mouth-watering. He’s waited so long, he honestly didn’t think this foretold moment would ever actually occur, but God, was he glad he’d been wrong. Heavy, sinful eyes skimmed your lower body as he fumbled with the top of your shorts. His hands were warm despite the dreary weather outside, likely due to his recent shower. They pressed into your thighs as he brought his face just above your lower stomach, his name fell from your mouth in a whine, leading him to push aside the cover of your shorts. He drug a few fingers over your center.

Your moans sliced through the rough tension that had fallen over the hotel room. “What?” His snort was low and sloppy, “Oh, is–,” one of his fingers gently slid over you and your eyes shut, “–is this what you want?” His eyes traced the arch of your neck that was most exposed, the one lined with the red marks he’d left. The twitching beneath his sweatpants pulled a groan from his lips.

He swirled his finger around, feeling your wetness was more than inviting. “Spencer,” you cried, eyes flying open at the loss of contact. 

“Be still,” he said, his voice wavering as he tugged everything off and discarded them on the floor. You watched him watch you–it wasn’t until you noted the way his eyes narrowed that you understood he was outlining your form–so that he could vividly paint it in his mind for a later purpose.

“I asked first,” you frowned up at him.

“You’re right,” he sighed, “here: let me show you what I want.”

Your breath caught as he lowered himself, his face coming right up to you, and with the way he was drooling at the sight, you could tell he’d been thinking about this for a while–it made you wonder if his desire had begun a lot sooner than yours had.

His mouth was warm, his tongue stroked up and down as far as they could go, and even when you thought he’d reached that point, he proved you wrong. Your hands knotted in his hair as you guided his head. His mouth was warm as he lapped up everything. You tried keeping your moan to a minimum, but when he stopped, your eyes popped open–had you done something wrong? But no, he was looking up at you with those desperate, puppy-like eyes, “please,” his whisper was grating, “I want to hear you.”

You swallowed, the ache building in you, “if that’s what you want,” you nodded.

And a few moments later, you were calling out his name in a way you’d never called anyone name. This was so new, you’d never had a guy worship you like this and you couldn’t fathom the fact that Spencer wanted to do it for your pleasure as well as his own.

You tried to hold it in, but your body had been desolate of attention for so long that you just couldn’t anymore. You could hear him slurp, and God did it do something to your brain chemistry– He considered you with clouded eyes. “Are you okay?” He frowned, pushing his body over yours.

Without giving him time to settle, you yanked his jaw toward your face with firm hands, he tasted like you and smelled of his shampoo–and yet, there was still the unknown Spencer scent that seemed only his skin could produce. You lined his jaw with kisses, your heart pounding in your chest with every new groan that escaped him.

My turn,” you huffed, definitely the cause of the lopsided grin that spread across his mouth. Though his hair was a mousy brown, in the dim yellow lamplight, it was as dark as the wood that made up the vintage furniture. It looked windswept or like he had just woken up–and perhaps he had. It was no longer a deniable fact that he’d never feel this good with anyone else, and he didn’t know how long this relationship with you would last, so he would milk everything he could out of it–and in exchange, surrender everything he had of himself.

It was only a few seconds later that you had him on his back, hands roving up and down his chest. You rubbed yourself against him, eliciting sweet sounds from his throat and friction from where you were just barely connected. You made sure to hold his gaze as you slid onto him. His jaw tightened and you could feel relief leave him as his chest fell. You tightened around him, trying to get used to him, you had to pause for a second–you couldn’t believe you were doing this–and in a moment of incompetence, you laughed.

“Sorry,” you lowered your chest onto his and began chuckling into his neck, “it’s just–what would the other think if they knew?”

Spencer pushed your shoulder away and held you above him, “I guess it’s a good thing they don’t, right?”

You nodded, but a small part of you wondered about what that meant for the after. Spencer groaned as you sat back up, you started slowly, hissing as you let him fill you. Spencer gave out his fair share of whimpers, but you wanted more, you wanted to make him cry.

You gripped his hair with one hand and the pillow beside him with another, you rolled your hips and wiggled every time you sat back down. Squeezing your thighs seemed to make him shudder the most, and when you added sucking to the mix, you knew you had him. 

“There it is,” your grin was devilish as you swiped at his cheek. He opened his eyes just in time to see you licking his tears off your thumb.

“I might ask what we are now,” you huffed a laugh as Spencer shut the bathroom door. He had been a complete gentleman about everything, cleaning you, massaging your shoulders. You’d never had such an experience, you’d never thought there could be more to having sex if you only had the right partner; now that you did, there was…but you were unsure about yourself.

You found your mind questioning all you knew about Spencer and what this all meant to you. You had asked him what he wanted from you, but did you even know what you wanted from him? Before, the question might have thrown you off–though Spencer had asked it, you weren’t taking him all too seriously. Now that you had more time to contemplate your roving thoughts, you knew the answer as if it had been written in your DNA.

Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed as he sat beside you, you were facing the window and the chifforobe.

“Well, what else would we be?” He paused, almost hesitatingly. You jerked your head toward his, eyes searching, and as the seconds of silence ticked by, he seemed to fade more and more into himself. When he turned his head and averted his eyes, saying, “I mean–if that’s not what you want–” you cut him off.

“No, I just–” you stopped yourself, unsure of how to explain the complications running through your mind, “I’m just not exactly sure what that means…”

A heavy sigh escaped his lips. You opened your mouth to clarify–probably more than necessary–but your words caught in your throat as Spencer stood and lowered to his knees in front of you. He was between your thighs, but there was nothing sexual about it–if anything it felt like the complete opposite kind of intimacy you had grown accustomed to with him.

His hands reached for yours, pulling them into your lap. He looked up at you with possibly the one look Spencer Reid had never given anyone. His eyes couldn’t decide which one of yours to focus on for the longest time, but when he did, his tone was guttural and almost choking, trusting. 

“The more time I spend with you, the more I feel I’ve always known you. These past few weeks–they weren’t the beginning for me.” Your mouth suddenly went dry, though you still tried to swallow. “I–I honestly don’t know when it started, but the more I felt drawn to you, the more I forced myself away. It–I don’t–I didn’t think I deserved to feel that way–I guess…”

You waited a few moments to ensure he was finished, your mind ran to look for the best possible response–but given the one-in-a-million situation you were in, your mind went blank. Instead, you rambled the first words that rolled into your mind just as you whispered the last, “I want you in every way, Spencer. It’s like–like you’ve bewitched me–”

“...body and soul,” he finished, “it’s…Jane Austen–sorry.” He cringed.

You threw your head back and laughed, then huffed, wiping a few tears from your eyes, “No, oh, no don’t worry. See this is why I love you,” Your heart came to an abrupt halt, and you felt as if you were dead, “no–I mean, I don’t–I mean, I–well, I do, but I mean–”

“It’s okay,” you followed his face as he stood and leaned down, his palm brushing across your face as he tucked a lock of hair behind your ear and leaned forward, “It’s okay, know what you meant,” the end of his sentence was muffled by another kiss.

“So, do you think they’ve caught on yet?” JJ asked, taking a sip of her coffee.

“Uhh, I’d say probably not.” Emily nodded.

“Would you like the share with the class?” Morgan raised a brow.

“Oh, I know this one,” Penelope hand shot up, her jewelry clinking against one another, “because — and Reid still think we don’t know.”

“I mean how could we not, though?” JJ huffed a laugh, setting her mug on the table in front of her.

“Know what?” Rossi smacked his lips, startling the group of four.

“Know…the complexities of…nail polish?” Penelope tried and failed to save the group.

All four members winced as Hotch appeared seemingly out of thin air and stated, “they think we don’t know about Spencer and —.” “What?” Rossi shook his head, following Hotch, “how could we not know? They’re so obvious.”

a/n: sorry for the wait, but i do proofread my fics because i just can't stand things not being as good as they could be–i'm a bit of a perfectionist lol irregardless, happy late new year !!

@darkmatilda @theylovemelody

[milesmoralesluvs]

Cry Baby (I've got this anxious feeling but it goes away for a minute when I'm with you breathing) - Ekko x reader

wc: 1k

warnings: mention of blood

ekko x medic!reader

Ekko doesn't remember the exact moment when everything changed between you two. One minute, you were just kids running through the streets of Zaun, stealing glances at each other and dreaming of something better. The next, you were both standing midst of a revolution, both bearing the weight of your choices and responsibilities.

It had always been that way, hadn't it? Both of you carried the pain of Zaun’s broken streets in different ways, and that pain had shaped who you were—who you were meant to be.

“(Y/N),” Ekko whispered, his voice strained from the blood loss. “How did we get here?”

You didn’t answer right away. You finished wrapping his side with gauze and then gently cupped his chin, tilting his face up toward yours. There was no judgment in your eyes, only the kind of quiet understanding that Ekko had never found anywhere else.

“We were always going to end up here,” you said softly. “Those were the shitty cards we were dealt with.”

You were no longer the girl that played in the streets with him. You were the Firelight medic now. Your eyes were laser focused as you worked, hands steady and efficient. Back when you were children, you had patched him up after every scrape, every reckless stunt. Nothing had changed, you were still the one taking care of himself when he couldn't.

“Still think you’re invincible?” you asked, glancing up at him as you cleaned the wound.

“I’m still breathing,” Ekko shot back, but the words felt hollow, more tired than defiant.

You didn’t respond, just continuing to work on him. It was always this way. You’d never say what you really wanted to say, but Ekko knew you too well. There were things between you—things left unsaid—but both of you had been too afraid to voice them. Back then, it was the simple question of whether you’d be able to survive together. Now, it was bigger than that. Now, it was about whether if you guys could still see each other as more than the people you had been, more than the roles you both were now trapped in.

Ekko met your eyes, his chest tight. “I don’t know if I can fix this. Everything’s falling apart, (Y/N), I keep trying, but it’s never enough.”

You finished cleaning the wound, your hands pausing as you looked up at him. The same intensity you had always carried was still there, but now it was mixed with something else—something softer, something more fragile.

“You’re not supposed to fix everything,” you said quietly. “You’re just supposed to keep going. We all are.”

There was a pause, and for a fleeting moment, Ekko saw the girl he had known all his life. The girl who had bandaged his scraped knees, who had silently supported him with his creations. The girl who had always believed in something better for them, for Zaun.

“And what if I don’t know how?” he whispered, the vulnerability in his voice something he hadn’t allowed anyone to hear in years.

You set down your medical tools and stepped closer to him. You took his hand, your fingers warm against his cold skin. For a moment, he felt a wave of emotions crash over him—memories of their childhood, of simpler times, of a connection that had always been there but was buried beneath the chaos of their lives.

“You don’t have to know how, Ekko,” you said softly, your voice just for him. “You just have to keep trying.”

You took a seat beside him on the tiny bed, bodies squished together, shoulders pressing. You hesitated for a moment before leaning your head against his.

“You’re not the Boy Savior or the leader of the firelights when you're with me. You’re just Ekko, the boy who always offered me the last bite of his food, the tastiest part. The boy who indulged in my every stupid theory about aliens. The boy who always managed to pull a reckless stunt and inevitably end up injured and me having to patch you up.”

You fiddled with the ends of your skirt. “You still do. All of that.”

He rubbed his neck sheepishly. “Your aliens theories are very interesting.”

You smiled at him softly. He mirrored a similar one of his own.

Ekko looked at you then, really looked at you. And in that moment, something shifted—something he hadn’t expected but had always hoped for. He wasn’t sure where this path would lead them, but he knew one thing for certain: you was still here, still standing by his side.

“I don’t know if I can keep doing this without you,” he said, his voice low, vulnerable.

You smiled, gently flicking his forehead before cupping his face to press a chaste kiss on his cheek. ‘You dont have to, silly. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving you ever.”

For a long moment, you simply stayed there, the weight of everything you both had endured settling between, unspoken. You didn’t need to say more. Not yet. There was time.

[dumpywrites]

Cat-astrophe - Min Yoongi / Suga

Summary: Your pet cat keeps going to your neighbor’s apartment and it’s a problem. 

Genre/tags: Fluff-ish, strangers to ???, minor mention of anxiety.

Pairing: Yoongi x she/her reader

a/n: cus we're all soft for long haired Yoongi, right? hehe

It had been officially a month since you had moved to a new apartment place. You loved the new place honestly. It was cozy and the neighborhood looked nice. There were many convenience store nearby and the street was always still busy until late at night, making you feel a little bit of secure when coming home late.

While the place was nice it had one tiny downside. It was rather on the far side from your workplace. It took you an hour of bus ride just to get home from the office, so some days could be more tiring than others. And today was one of those tiring days. 

It was around nine at night on a Monday. Having to work overtime for the deadline and missed the bus, really dreaded you out. You were both tired and hungry, arriving home only to find that your pet cat was missing. It really just was not your day.

To say you were panicking would be a bit of an understatement. Cookie was barely a four month-old cat and had a very tiny body. All the negative possibilities start filling your head and you were horrified by all of them. Not to mention how it was basically forbidden to bring pets in the apartment complex. It was one of the policies but you couldn't help it since Cookie was a rescue.

When you arrived at your apartment lobby with a cat snack on your hand, there wasn’t that many people there. You walked past a guy by the front desk, who had medium-length black locks and fair skin, with headphones dangling on his neck. You began to call your pet’s name as soon as you were outside the lobby, but suddenly you felt a light tap on your shoulder. 

“Are you looking for a small black Bombay cat?” It was the same guy who just walked past you.

“Oh my god, I am! Have you seen him???” You said, your voice was a little bit shaky. 

“He’s in my place, I’m on the seventh.” 

“Oh, me too!”

“I know.”

“Oh.” You said, surprised at how stoic he sounded saying that, but didn’t further question him on it. “I’m so sorry for bothering you, can I go get him now?”

“Sure, I was just gonna go up as well.”

When you both entered the elevator, you made a mental note to ask his name or at least introduce yourself. He was a neighbor after all. It was pretty silent inside the lift and you just hoped he didn’t hear your stomach rumbling ever so slightly. You took a deep breath, bearing the hunger for a little while. 

When the elevator door opened you followed him from behind as he led you to his door. When he stopped at his front door, your eyes were widened in shock. 

“You live next to me?!” 

“Yeah.” He said casually and unlocked the door. "I've seen you multiple times."

You chose to not further question and followed him but stopped when you had only took two steps in, because technically, the homeowner had not really officially permit you to come in. The guy seemed to notice how you just stood awkwardly and looked back. 

“You can sit down for a sec, I’ll go get him.” 

“Oh, right… yeah. Thank you.” You said awkwardly and walked to sit on his couch. 

A few seconds later the man came back with your cat in his embrace. Cookie was clinging on his tshirt before he tugged him and gave him onto your lap. 

“Cookie!” You called, almost teary. 

“I think he jumped from your balcony to mine. Make sure to close your balcony door next time.”

“Thank you so much, I owe you… uh…”

“Yoongi.” 

“Thank you, Yoongi.” You repeated and introduced yourself in return. “I’m Y/N, and if you ever need anything please let me now.” You said as you stood up, already making your way out. 

“Also, thank you for not reporting it…”

“No problem.” Was all the guy said and by this point you figured he was not much of a talker. 

You bid your goodbye to your neighbor, which only gained a small nod before he closed the door on you. You walked to your door and let Cookie down as soon as you got inside. Sighing deeply, you began to feel your stomach rumble again, this time it rumbled quite loudly. Your feet were aching from standing on the bus and now your body finally got on how tired you were. 

Cookie meowed and immediately went to his cat bed and laid down. You sighed and smiled at the small creature. 

“You little rascal… you’re lucky I love you.” 

You then went to your kitchen to cook yourself some instant ramen. 

The next day you went to work and had to take another overtime. Unfortunately you had to for the rest of the week until your current project was done. It was exhausting but you had to make it and mostly thinking about the bonus pay from it helped quite a bit. You spent the next few days the same, repeating the schedules, and the tiring work. 

It was almost ten at night that you arrived home and found out Cookie had gone missing again. For some reason your first instinct was to knock on your next door, in hope the neighbor who once helped you, could lend you a hand again, and hoping maybe Cookie just ran to his place again instead of being gone somewhere where it wasn't safe for him.

You knocked on the door and didn’t get immediate answer. You waited for what felt like five minutes, before the door opened and you were greeted with the sight of your neighbor with wet hair. He had a small white towel around his neck and the hoop earring that you saw him with before was absent. His skin looked glowing, you probably needed to ask about his skin care routine later.

“So sorry to interrupt you, I was wondering if Cookie might have gone to your place again?” 

“He’s right there on the couch.” He casually pointed. His expression was straight and had you wondering if he did not mind it, bothered, or simply didn’t care. 

You slowly walked to approach your cat and bent down to its level. “Cookie, you need to stop this…” You tapped the cat's nose, as if scolding the poor cat would do anything. 

“He jumped to my balcony again, did you forget to close the door?” 

“But I made sure to close it this morning…” You looked at your neighbor, who walked closer to inspect the cat. 

“I think he knows how to turn door knobs, since he’s quite a jumper. You need to lock the door.” 

“I can’t believe this little demon…” You sighed, fingers still stroking the purring cat. 

“He’s… alright.” 

You were slightly taken aback by the response and looked up to him, but much to your disappointment, his expression still looked the same. You were about to get up and excuse yourself, but you notice a small steel bowl under his dining table, half full with what you assumed to be cat milk (I mean, it would be weird if it was his, duh!). 

“You also have a cat?”

His eyes followed yours. “Oh, that. I got it the first time Cookie came here, I figured he must be thirsty since he came in around noon time.” 

“That’s… that’s very nice of you.” You looked at him and smiled. Somehow him addressing your cat by his name sounded lovely. 

“You can have the rest of the milk if you want, since you’ve figured out how he escaped and all…” 

“It’s okay, you can keep it! Just in case he ran into you again…” You chuckled but then stopped after realizing how that just sounded like you did not mind troubling him with your cat continuously. “I mean… I’m sorry, I’ll make sure he’ll never escape again.” 

“It’s alright, I’ll keep the milk for now.” He paused for a second, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just in case.”

You looked at your neighbor and couldn’t help but to feel all warm inside. He seemed like a nice person and from the looks of it he also liked your cat. 

“Thank you so much, Yoongi. I’ll be taking this little guy here then...” You smiled at him and stood up with Cookie in your arms. 

“I got some dim sum…” 

You looked at the guy questioningly. 

“Do you maybe want some?” 

“That’d be too much, it’s okay, you go ahead and eat.” You politely declined. Although you were hungry, you could bring yourself to bother your neighbor any more than what you had done. 

“Have you eaten?” 

“Y-yeah?” You asked, afraid you heard it wrong. 

“Have you eaten?” He repeated. “If not, then I insist you take some.”

“I…” You wanted to lie, but at this point it would come off as rude if you refuse him again. “I actually haven’t. Thank you very much though, I feel so bad that you’re being this nice to me.”

“You can just eat them here.” 

“I don’t wanna disturb—“ You were awkwardly cut by the sound of your stomach rumbling. 

“You’re not disturbing me.” He cleared his throat and looked away. 

That was embarrassing. 

And that was how you ended up sitting down on your neighbor’s dining table, eating dim sums. 

In silence. 

This Yoongi guy really did not like conversation it seemed. He was sitting down on his couch and had turned the TV on. The volume was on but not quite loudly, and Cookie was on his lap, sleeping as he occasionally stroked the cat’s head softly. Funny that somehow you could see some resemblance of Yoongi with your cat.

“So… how long have you lived here?” You bit your bottom lip as you waited for his answer. You kind of regretted asking as soon as the words came out from your mouth, afraid it would be awkward. 

“Around ten months or so.” He paused. “No, I think it’s been almost a year cause I spent two months overseas.”

“Really? What were you doing overseas?” You regretted asking again. Looking at how quiet Yoongi was, you didn’t want to ask too much or indulge into too much conversation, afraid it would be too much for him. 

But much to your surprise, he answered. “I’m a producer. I was working for this artist and all the work had to be done in America.” 

“Wow, that sounds amazing!” You said. At this point you no longer were sitting facing the table, but to him. “Who was the artist?”

“Uh… Halsey.” He replied while looking at the TV screen, seemingly to avoid your stare.

“Oh my god???” You gasped. “That’s incredible! So you’re like crazy talented?!”

“I’m alright…” 

“You should show me some of your work someday!” You said enthusiastically. When Yoongi did not reply to it and stayed silent, you cursed yourself internally. “I mean compared to what I do that’s like really amazing.” You chuckled nervously. 

“I’m sure you’re great at what you do.” He looked at you, a small smile was on his lips. 

You realized it was the first time you saw him smile and it made your heart raced rather faster than usual. It was the first time you saw him with facial expression other than his usual poker face. 

“I’m just a normal product designer at a very normal company.” You shrugged. 

“Don’t downplay yourself like that. You work very hard.” 

“Thanks…” You replied shyly. 

After finishing your food, you got up and went to wash the dishes, which immediately got stopped by the homeowner. He politely told you to go back home and rest. Which again, you could not thank him more for. 

You took your pet in your arms and said your goodbyes to your neighbor. Right when you arrived back in your place you came to realize something. Yoongi did not eat with you and there was only one portion of the food. While it could just meant he had already eaten beforehand, you felt giddy, thinking about another possibility. Was this a crush you sense forming? Frankly speaking, you could not care less. You were welcoming the possibility with open arms.

— 

Friday finally came and you were ready to take it in. The days of working with your company project was going to an end, which meant you no longer need to work overtime after this. The thought of it put you in a very good mood. 

This time right after arriving home, you walked to a nearby chicken restaurant and grab some not only for you, but also for your neighbor. You wanted to repay his kindness the past few days. After changing into some comfortable clothes, not to mention the multiple times you had to re-check the outfit in the mirror for some reason, you took your cat in your left hand and the food in the other. You knocked on your neighbor’s door hoping he was home. 

And he was. You were greeted with his silence but he opened the door wider as soon as he saw your face without question. One thing that caught your eyes though was how he was dressed up like he was ready for a night out. He wasn’t in his usual sweatpants and baggy t-shirt, but instead in a ripped wide legged jeans and a light blue shirt, unbuttoned, with a plain white tee underneath. He looked handsome. And here you were, in your so-called comfy outfit that you were starting to regret.

“Before you ask, no, Cookie’s right here.” You smiled awkwardly as you raised the small cat in your hand for him to see. “I’m just here to drop by some chicken I got for you… as a thanks for your help these past few days.” You handed the plastic of food to him. “Alright, that’s all…”

He took the food from you hesitantly. “You don’t wanna come in?” 

“Aren’t you going out or something?”

“I was… but you are here.” He said, sounding unsure. 

“That’s ridiculous, why would I stop you from going out?”

“I was gonna go to your place…” 

Your mouth formed a small O shape, unable to form a word. He was going to your place? But what for??? The butterflies in your stomach were having a blast. 

“But you’re all dressed up…”

“I was gonna change back.” He sighed, running his hand through his hair, which made you gulped at the sight. “I knew this was a bad idea I shouldn't have listened to Hoseok—”

You stopped his rambling. “What do you mean?”

“I was gonna ask you if you wanted to go eat together at that one Chicken restaurant nearby…”

“Oh.” You widened your eyes.

“Yeah.” He looked at you, biting his cheek in annoyance. 

“This is awkward.” You chuckled. 

“Whatever, just… just come in first.”

You saw Yoongi putting the plastic of food on his table. You offered help after putting down your cat on his couch and walked to his direction. Both of you plated the food in comfortable silence, it felt oddly domestic and you liked it. At this point you were used to him being not talkative and see it as his charm. 

After you took the plates to the living room, Yoongi suddenly came back with cans of beers and soju in his hands. 

“We’re drinking?” You said with an amused grin. 

“You can drink, right?” 

“Sure, but can you?” You playfully eyed him. 

“Don’t challenge me.” 

You could see how he was trying to hide his smile, and it brought colors to your cheeks. 

—

You did not know how you got in this situation. Five episodes in randomly rewatching Avatar The Last Airbender and you both were drunk. You were resting your head on his shoulder as you watch the screen. It seemed like the booze gave you confidence, or made you shameless, or both, but the guy didn’t complain so it could be a sign of a good thing. While you could see Yoongi holding his alcohol better than you, he was not completely sober either. 

It was at this very moment where you saw things through a pink tinted lense. Had Yoongi’s hair always looked that soft? Had he always looked this handsome? You began to question things you should not be questioning.

“Why didn’t you change your clothes?” You randomly asked. 

“Do I look bad?” He replied, eyes still on the screen, hands stroking the sleeping cat on his lap. 

"Of course not, I just feel severely underdressed now..." You chuckled.

He eyed you from top to bottom, which made you nervous, but he shrugged, seemingly to not have any problem with your clothes.

“You look… handsome.”

“You think I look handsome?” He suddenly moved to face you, making you move to look at him as well. The tone of his voice sounded like he was teasing more than asking a question.

You nodded and bit your lips. “And you kinda look like Cookie.” You giggled. 

He raised one of his eyebrows, clearly not satisfied with your answer. 

“Your eyes…” You began to ramble. “They look just like Cookie’s, and when you look annoyed, or just your plain expression… you look like a cute cat.” 

“Really…” Yoongi hummed. 

“Yup!” You giggled like an idiot. 

You failed to notice how at this point, Yoongi has put Cookie down from his lap to the floor. His face only inches away from you as you kept rambling. 

“Your hair look so soft… like a cat’s fur.” You reached your hands closer to his hair, but stopped mid-way, scared he’d get uncomfortable. 

Yoongi surprised you again by grabbing both of your wrist and putting your hands on his hair, letting you stroke his head slowly. You saw his expression softened and as you kept playing with his hair, he closed his eyes. You swore you heard him purr. 

“Pretty.” You said with a drunk smile. 

“Hmm. Pretty.” He mirrored. 

“Okay, call me crazy but why do I kinda wanna kiss you right now.” You said, totally losing the battle with your common sense. 

Yoongi chuckled. “You’re crazy.” He ran his fingers through his hair, looking to the right. “I like it.” 

—

To be frank, you could not recall what happened after. You recalled some bits of karakoe-ing? Singing random PSY songs in your broken Korean using a bottle of whiskey as your mic. That was probably all? You couldn’t think while the throbbing headache was present in the room with you.

So why were you now in a bed that was not yours, wearing a t-shirt that was too big for you and was clearly not yours, also for heaven’s sake, WHY IS YOONGI SLEEPING NEXT TO ME??? 

You froze. Did you??? There was no way. Sure you found him attractive and all, and you definitely had this huge crush on him, but you couldn’t just sleep with a guy you barely knew. Besides your headache, your body didn’t feel any pain, so that was probably a good sign. What if he was just that gentle? Okay, you need to stop thinking at once before you started a whole fiction about you and Yoongi in your head.

When you turned your back, you felt the other side of the bed shifted as well. 

“You’re up?” He asked with a raspy voice. 

“Yeah.” You said, still back-facing him. “We didn’t… you know…”

“No, we didn’t.”

“Oh, okay good.”

Yoongi did not answered to that, but instead you felt him scooting closer. 

“I’m sorry, this isn’t probably how you’d wanna spend your weekend.” You chuckled. 

Your breath hitched when you felt a hand over your waist. “Is this okay?” He suddenly stopped when your body tensed at his touch. 

You nodded, heart beating too loudly for you to form any sentence. 

“This is nice.” He said, resting his forehead on your back. 

When you stayed silent, he took your hand and turned you over to face him. Heat immediately took over your body as soon as your eyes meet. You noticed he was back in his usual home attire, oversized tee and sweatpants. His hair was messy, but it seemed like universe had its favorite cause he still looked good. 

“You know, I haven’t had good sleep in… weeks.”

You were surprised by his sudden confession.

“It’s half past eleven now, and it’s not even ten minutes after I woke up…” He tittered. “My anxiety has been getting worse the past month and out of nowhere a black cat suddenly jumped to my balcony, meowing non-stop while I was working.”

You looked at him, letting him finish his talk. This was the most words you had ever heard coming out of Yoongi’s mouth and it made your heart flutter. 

“I haven’t been caring. I’ve stopped caring, for a while now. Seeing you care so much for such a small creature… I don’t know, it feels good. It makes me wanna care.”

“Yoongi…” You cooed, caressing his cheek. "It's not true, all you have been since I first met you until this moment, was caring."

"I'm sorry if it feels like it came out of nowhere but I feel at home with you and I don’t know why...” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Yet, at least.”

“I… like this too. A lot actually.” You said shyly. 

“I would like to get to know you more if you’d like.” He was being honest and exactly to the point, no flirty bullshit to spice his sentences.

“I’d love that...” 

Suddenly you heard a low meow from under the bed and Cookie jumped into the bed, joining you two. Apparently his bedroom door was left opened and none of you noticed how Cookie had entered. You giggled and he smiled as well, the widest smile and the most genuine you had ever seen from him, as he took the cat and cuddled both of you close.

"I think it's about time you give me your number..." You squinted at him playfully. "You know, so we don't repeat the whole chicken restaurant accident again?"

“Okay, but promise me first you won’t apologize again after kissing me.” He chuckled. 

“EXCUSE ME WHAT???”

— 

“Okay, call me crazy but why do I kinda wanna kiss you right now.” You said, totally losing the battle with your common sense. 

Yoongi laughed. “You’re crazy.” He ran his fingers through his hair, looking to the right. “I like it.” 

“I can be crazier if you open that whiskey.” You wiggled your eyebrows.

Yoongi just shook his head, smiling at your silliness. He stood up and went to grab his Hibiki anyway, which earned a shout of celebration from you. 

Things escalated quickly after opening the bottle. Somehow you were starting a drunk karaoke session which followed by many dance breaks. You ended up crying when a sad song randomly came up in the playlist and when Yoongi asked why, you replied. You replied with your lips on his.

In your head it just made sense. It was his lips’ fault for looking so juicy. Yeah, totally his fault for looking so hot that it was driving you insane.

None of you moved and it only lasted seconds before your mood turned sour again. 

“I’m so sorry I didn’t mean…” You pushed him gently. “Oh my god, you’re so gonna hate me!!!”

“Hey, calm down…“ 

You started to panic, tears now forming in your eyes again. “Please don’t hate me, I just wanted to kiss you…” You cried. 

“Okay, I think that’s enough drinking—“

And you puked. 

Yes, Yoongi did see your lilac colored bra when he helped you change into his t-shirt. But that’s a secret between him and little Cookie. 

Thank you for reading! 💎

part 2 is here!

[dreamcubed]

you need to calm down | theodore nott x reader

song; you need to calm down [taylor swift] pairing; theodore nott x fem!muggle-born!reader genre; e2l, smut, angst word count; 5,9k timeline; subsidiary 8th year warnings; swearing, alcohol consumption, implied drug consumption, hook-up, drunk sex, piv, oral sex (male and female receiving), discrimination (muggle-borns), smoking, violence, blood, mentions of the war, arguments, yelling summary; after returning to hogwarts for a subsidiary 8th year to make up for the loss of 7th year due to the war, you are a completely different person, and muggle-born-hating theo finds himself obsessed with you

masterlist

"stressing and obsessing about somebody else is no fun."

MINORS DNI!!! 18+ content.

————————————————

In the time that the Second Wizarding War had been going on, you had been absent from Hogwarts, attending a muggle school under a fake name. Also in that time, you had changed significantly, partially to help your cover, but also because you had made muggle friends with similar styles and decided that you loved it. There were no uniforms at muggle college, so you were able to explore. These days you loved having black hair, having both your septum and nose pierced, and dressing almost entirely in black.

Your witch friends hadn't recognised you when you showed up at the Summer party you had received an invite to, after Voldemort was defeated and you were able to come out of hiding. The party you were attending was for seventh and eighth years— eighth year being introduced as a subsidiary for the education lost last year. Even most of those who had attended seventh year elected to return, as the final exams had never taken place, and what they had learned had been heavily rooted in the dark arts.

The party was booming, the walls of the massive house shaking with the sound of the music. You had consumed your fair share of alcohol, amongst other things, and had enjoyed catching up with everyone you had missed so dearly.

And that was when you saw him watching you.

Theodore Nott, a Slytherin boy in your year, who was from a wealthy pure-blooded family. A cigarette hung from his lips, and the smoke billowing around him sent a shiver up your spine. He was a sexy man, personality aside, and intoxicated you conveniently forgot about his attitude towards muggle-borns. Fuck, maybe he had changed?

He started approaching you, eyes raking up and down your accentuated figure, and he lingered a while on your fishnets. When he was close enough to talk, he said a simple statement, "I've never seen you before."

Theodore Nott hadn't changed. Not one bit. While he had never wished death upon muggle-borns like Voldemort, he had despised them— viewed them as lesser than he. He had seen you, laughing with your friends and seductively moving your hips, and assumed you were from the year below. You knew in that moment that he didn't recognise muggle-born goody-two-shoes Y/N L/N.

But, you were too drunk to ignore the red flags.

"No?" you murmured, "What are your first thoughts?"

He smirked, "I think I'm in for a very interesting night."

You chuckled, "I'll say."

His hands found your hips, and he began swaying with you to the music, which made you move your body closer to his. Even in the warmth of the room, the heat of his body hit you like an electric spark, coursing through you— straight to your core.

He moved even closer, his hot breath fanning against your neck as his hands moved round to your back. Then he lifted his head, his lips close to yours, and you let your eyes flutter shut as the kiss began. It was passionate: a hazy, powerful passion that had every hair on your body standing on end. His hands lowered to your ass, and squeezed, bringing a gasp from your lips, which he took as an opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

All of a sudden, he pulled away, only to whisper in your ear, "Wanna find somewhere more private?"

"Lead the way," you said breathlessly, and he took your hand in his.

Neither of you knew whose bedroom you had ended up in, but it was empty and had a lock on the door, so it was ideal. Sure, a little unlocking charm could get someone in, but hopefully they would realise what was going on inside if the door was locked.

Theo wasted no time in pressing his lips to yours again, pushing you back until you fell on to the bed, pulling him with you. He moved down to your neck, kissing and sucking in a manner that would definitely leave hickeys, before he returned to your lips. You tugged at his shirt, and he let you pull it over his head, revealing a toned chest and arms that had you drooling.

He smirked at your loss of composure and beckoned towards your shirt, "Your turn, miss."

This time, you smirked, and held up your arms to allow him to remove your upper body clothing. First your tight black mesh top, and then your bra, freeing your boobs for him to gaze at. "Look who's drooling now."

Your statement made him snap out of his shock: clearly the sight of your nipple piercings had been a new experience for him. He attacked your lips with a new fervour, then moved down to suck on your nipple and its barbell. Gasps escaped you at the sensation, and you arched your back up instinctively.

"You're so sexy," he stopped for breath, complimenting you, "How have I never seen you before?"

Your breath hitched, and for a moment the reality of the situation came back to you. Just as quickly, though, it left again, as he began work on your other nipple. It was a wonderful feeling, but you needed more, so you pushed him over until you were on top and began unbuckling his trousers.

His dick was big and thick, and you could tell by the glint in his eyes as he looked down at you that he knew and was proud. You shook your head, bringing your lips to the tip and pressing a gentle kiss. Your teasing didn't last for long, however, as you soon gave into the urge to take it into your mouth. He groaned deliciously in response, and you took that as your cue to lick a strip up the side as you began fondling his balls.

"Just like that, baby," he moaned, making you realise he hadn't even asked for your name.

You took him in your mouth again, this time going as far down as your throat would allow, feeling the urge to gag building up in you. His louder groans made the effort worth it, though, as you deepthroated him. Pulling away for breath, you looked up at him with doe eyes and said, "If I'm sucking your dick, you might as well eat me out." And with that, you pulled your tights and panties down, leaving only your skirt on, before sitting on his face assertively.

The action made him groan more, and you leaned down to continue work on his dick as you felt him find your clit almost immediately. His tongue ministrations had you moaning around his dick, making you begin grinding on his face out of reflex. If you weren't drunk, you wouldn't be nearly this shameless and forward.

To his credit, he ate you out like a man starved, and it wasn't long before the pleasure became so much you had to give up on his dick and give in to the sensation.

"Fuck, Theo, I'm gonna come," you moaned, and his movements only got quicker, until you felt your core tighten and then release. Your body convulsed as he rode you through the high.

Eventually, you got off his face.

"D'you have condoms?" you asked, knowing he hadn't yet finished and also that you weren't yet satisfied.

"Always." He reached for his trousers over the side of the bed and pulled a condom out of his wallet.

You took it from him, tearing the packet with your teeth whilst making eye contact, and carefully sheathing his dick. His breath hitched once you were done: the only warning you got before he got up and pushed you down on to all fours, lining himself up behind you. The push in wasn't difficult, since you were quite well prepared, but it was still sensationally tight for him.

"Fuck, baby," he grunted, pushing in the last couple inches, "You feel so fuckin' good. So wet for me."

In reply, you moaned, and he took that as his cue to begin moving.

He pushed up your skirt to slap your ass, leaving a red imprint on your cheek, before gripping your hips and picking up the pace. You became a mess beneath him, even more so when one of his hands snuck around to begin rubbing circles on your clit. The bedsheets were crumpled in your hands with how tight you were gripping them, but Theo didn't stop.

"Oh, fuck, I'm gonna-" he cut himself off with a grunt.

"Me too," you squeaked out.

"Come with me." The assertive way in which he said it had you falling apart yet again, and by the way his movements were becoming sloppy, you could guess that he was too. When he then collapsed next to you, you knew that your guess had been correct.

Turning to lay on your back, you let out a content sigh.

"You know my name," he said.

You chuckled breathlessly.

"Who are you?"

You shrugged, deciding that you had given yourself enough time to regain your composure and getting up off the bed to clothe yourself. "You'll see," you said as you pulled your final clothing item back on.

And, with that concluding comment, you left Theo speechless on a random bed of the host's house.

***

You told no one of that night, deciding that you didn't need to hear your friends say what a stupid idea it was for you as a muggle-born to fuck a pure-blood supremacist. You already knew that yourself, but that didn't stop you from dreaming about how his tongue felt against your pussy, or how his hands felt on your body. Merlin, it was the best sex that you had ever had, and it just had to be with someone who would never want you again after finding out the truth.

It was on the train to Hogwarts that you saw him next. Despite how excited you were to return to the castle after over a year, the anxiety of your next meeting with Theo had been consuming you. And, in a lit up train in your classic school uniform, you were a lot more recognisable than in the dark in your own clothes. Especially considering you were with your friend group.

You stared at him as he stood in the doorway of you and your friends' compartment, with Mattheo Riddle and Lorenzo Berkshire stood behind him. They were likely on the hunt for some younger years to belittle.

"Well, Miss Goody-Two-Shoes has certainly changed a lot, hasn't she?" Riddle chuckled from behind Theo, who was simply staring at you with widened eyes and a clenched jaw.

"Theo? Mate? You alright?" Berkshire asked, snapping his friend out of his daze.

"Yeah, yeah, fine," he said dismissively, "Let's go."

His friends appeared confused, but didn't question it.

Your friends, however, did.

"What the fuck was up with that?" your best friend, Elena, asked, "Is the man scared of a couple piercings or something?"

She didn't even know what she was saying when she said that, you thought to yourself, thinking back to his reaction to your nipple piercings. You simply shrugged at her, "He just hates to see a muggle-born succeed."

Everyone agreed with hums, and the conversation shifted to other subjects.

***

Theodore Nott had spent the last two weeks of Summer wondering what the fuck the mysterious girl he fucked at a party meant by, "You'll see," and then following that up with a wank using memories of you. But, in that moment, stood in front of you on the Hogwarts Express, where you were in better lighting and more recognisable attire, he felt the world crash down around him.

How had he fucked a mudblood? The one thing that was ingrained into his brain since childhood to never do? Ever? The worst part is, he hadn't just liked the sex, he had loved it. He had already had numerous wet dreams about your lips and your boobs and your ass. And now? Now he had to push all of that aside because he couldn't ever fuck you again.

He just couldn't.

"Theo- Earth to Theo," the voice of Lorenzo next to him brought him from his thoughts.

"What?" he snapped back.

"What's got you so worked up?"

Mattheo chuckled, "Can't you see him staring at mudblood L/N? I can't tell if you wanna kill her or fuck her."

That statement earned Mattheo a glare from Theo.

"Maybe both?" Lorenzo suggested, making them both laugh.

"Who was it again that you hooked up with at the party?" Mattheo asked before shovelling food into his mouth.

"He didn't say, remember? Said she never told him her name."

"It doesn't matter," Theo spat.

Lorenzo and Mattheo exchanged looks as realisation dawned on them, and they both slowly turned to Theo who was still glaring daggers in your direction.

"No, you didn't..." Mattheo said first.

Theo said nothing.

"You fucked a mudblood," Lorenzo stated, finishing Mattheo's thought.

"You didn't realise it was L/N," Mattheo continued.

"She'd changed a lot, okay?" Theo said angrily, "I thought she was from the year below or something."

His two friends began howling with laughter, meanwhile Theo sat brooding in silence at the Slytherin table.

***

Saturday rolled around, and you were relieved to be able to shed the school uniform and tug on your clothes that had become an important part of you. Thankfully, Hogwarts hadn't been too strict about your piercings, in fact you had even received compliments from some professors. But, honestly, the rules weren't all that strict since it was still a sensitive time with many grieving from the war.

The Summer weather was still lingering, and you basked in the sunlight as you walked down one of the open hallways, watching first years giggling amongst themselves as they played with their new magic skills. It brought a smile to your face, to see things returning to normal; you had missed Hogwarts dearly while you had been away, not knowing how long you would have to remain in hiding. You had even begun applications for muggle university— because, really, how could you have known whether it would be one year or ten before you could freely be a witch again?

You turned a corner, and in your drifted thoughts, didn't notice the person walking around the other way until it was too late and your shoulders had shoved against each other.

"Shit, sorry," you muttered, realising all too late that it was Theo. He was glaring at you, just like he had at every meal and every class you shared all week.

"Watch where you're going, mudblood," he snapped.

Rolling your eyes, you mumbled, "Wasn't a problem three weeks ago."

"Never speak of that," he said lowly, his voice threatening.

"Why? Annoyed sex with a mudblood was good?" you retorted, and then you found yourself pinned up against the wall.

"Watch your mouth, miss."

"Don't you mean 'baby'?" you smirked, relishing in the way his eyes darkened.

You almost missed the way his gaze flicked to your lips, but then he pulled away, refusing to look at you.

"Fuck you, L/N," he spat, storming off, and you watched in amusement with your back still against the wall.

***

Theodore Nott was livid. Absolutely livid. You wound him up in the worst way possible, only for him to try and scare you- fail- and then find himself wanting nothing more than to smash his lips on to yours. When you reminded him of the pet name he used while you were fucking, the blood in his body rushed straight to his dick: the feeling of his arms gripping yours and the close proximity had felt electric. Your very presence set him on fire in every single way possible.

He hated every second.

With previous hook-ups, he had hooked up a few more times with them until he had gotten bored and moved on to the next. Before he found out who you were, he had been planning on doing the same, and now the fact he couldn't was driving him crazy. He thought about you every minute of the day, every minute of the night, and- unfortunately- whenever his hand was wrapped around his dick. And, after his interaction with you in the hallway, he knew that he needed a good fuck from at least a half-blood, if not a pure-blood.

Yes, that was all it was, his body was desperate for sex and as you were the last person he fucked, his thoughts simply went to you first. That was all it was.

Definitely.

***

Potions lesson on Monday rolled around quicker than you would have liked, but it wasn't all bad, as Slughorn was a nice enough professor. You sequestered yourself next to your best friend, ready to begin the lesson. He had promised you all your first practical lesson today, and you were excited to use a cauldron again after so long.

The only real downside of the class was that Theo was in it, and he seemed even angrier (if that was possible) than he was last week. His eyes were pinned on to you like you had murdered his family. You shrugged it off, setting up the work station while Elena went to fetch the various ingredients that you required.

Meanwhile, Theo sat across the class from you, feeling incredibly frustrated. Saturday night, he had tried to fuck another girl, but he couldn't get himself hard until he imagined that she was you. And, even then, he couldn't finish. His imagination couldn't go as far as making her feel and act like you, after all. Now, all he knew, was that you were his enemy, and his remedy. And you had the audacity to act so calm and unbothered all the fucking time.

"Your obsession isn't healthy," Mattheo spoke from next to him, dumping the potion ingredients on the table.

"It's not an obsession."

"What is it, then?" his friend scoffed, "Love?"

Theo furrowed his eyebrows.

"Yeah, that's what I thought."

Mattheo watched as Theo rose to his feet and began haphazardly chopping ingredients, the tiny knife taking the brunt of his anger.

"If it's affecting you so bad, just fuck her again."

"She's mudblood."

"It's not like you're impregnating her," Mattheo reasoned.

Theo sighed deeply, "It's not that simple. I've had it trained into me since birth that we don't associate with mudbloods."

"Well," Mattheo shifted on his feet, "Parents aren't always right."

"Since when did you sympathise with them?"

"I don't- I just," Mattheo muttered something inaudible to himself, and then said, "I don't want people to think I'm my father."

Theo said nothing.

"I'm just saying, mate, your mother's dead and your father's in prison for life— who gives a fuck what they think?"

"It's the principle."

"What even is the principle?"

"What would Draco think? Lorenzo? All of our friends?"

"Draco's not the man he was before the war," Mattheo said quietly. He knew better than anyone, being Draco's cousin, he had grown up with him due to his parents' absence. "I'm just saying. Maybe we should leave some beliefs in the past."

"You've gotten soft," Theo grumbled, "Just last week you were shitting on me for fucking her."

Mattheo shrugged, "Force of habit, I guess. I've just been doing a lot of thinking lately."

"That's rare."

"Shut up."

***

Truth was, despite all of Theo's dick behaviour and discrimination of your kind, you still found yourself waking up in a sweat thinking about his hands roaming your body. That goddamned Slytherin was the bane of your existence and the reason for your catharsis. He had diseased you, plagued you. He was a parasite that you couldn't get rid of, that was eating away at your sanity. What happened to your self respect? To your pride? You got fucked into heaven, that's what. And now your sexual urges were spreading like fire all throughout your bloodstream.

Wanking didn't feel the same anymore— your fingers didn't hold the electricity and passion that Theo's did. You craved him like a drug: and that's exactly what he was. He was something you shouldn't do, something that was bad for your health, but something that could have you seeing stars. Why did he have to be a blood supremacist?

But would it feel this intense if he wasn't? Maybe you two being forbidden, being star-crossed, was the reason that it made you feel so alive. You loved the fact he stared at you, even if it was with fury so powerful it made his whole body shake. It made you feel as if you had gotten to him the way he had gotten to you.

Just one taste of heaven had left you wanting to experience it a thousand times over.

"Get your shit together, Y/N," you cursed to yourself, forcing yourself out of bed.

"What was that?" one of your dorm mates asked.

"Nothing," you replied, "Just going crazy."

"Aren't we all?" she agreed.

***

"Party in the Slytherin dungeons tonight," Pansy stated to you one hellish week later.

You blinked at her, "And I'm invited?"

The girl nodded, evidently feeling awkward, "A lot of us are trying to- uh- make amends with mud- muggle-borns."

You raised an eyebrow at her near slip-up.

"Look- I'm- I'm sorry for how I treated you in the past," she said, actually appearing genuine, "It wasn't right."

"Um, thank you," you replied hesitantly.

"I know I don't speak for all the Slytherins, but a lot of us have done some thinking over the Summer," she continued, "We've lived in an echo chamber for too long."

That you agreed with.

"And, honestly, I think you're really cool- and I hope we can be friends."

You were taken aback by her words, never imagining that a pure-blood like Pansy Parkinson would be saying such words to you. But, maybe, forgiving her wouldn't be such a bad thing. "I... forgive you, I think," you said slowly, "I hope we can be friends too."

She gave you a small but warm smile, "Thank you. Will I see you there?"

You nodded cautiously, "Yeah, I think so."

"Great, uh, come say hi when you get there."

And with that, she disappeared, leaving you in a state of shock and confusion.

***

"Why are there so many mudbloods here?" Lorenzo asked irritatedly, sitting down on the sofa next to his friend group.

"Be civil, Enzo," Pansy gently scolded, "They're witches and wizards just like us."

"But they're not, though. Right, Matt?"

Mattheo shrugged slightly, "I'm with Pansy on this one, I think."

"See, Enzo? Even the Dark Lord's son agrees with me."

Mattheo grimaced at being reminded of who his father was.

"What about you, Theo?" Lorenzo asked.

But Theo wasn't listening, too busy glaring at you with his jaw clenched as you entered the common room, dressed up in an annoyingly similar way that you were back at the Summer party. Lorenzo followed his gaze, but he already knew where it would be leading to.

"Theo is not the person to ask," Blaise chuckled, appearing out of nowhere and sitting next to Theo, "I reckon he's about two interactions with L/N away from saying 'fuck it' and accepting his fate."

"What fate?" Theo snapped.

"The fate of falling in love with a muggle-born," Pansy said with a giggle.

"I'm not falling for her."

"Yeah, you just think and talk about her all the time," Draco, who had been quiet the whole time, spoke.

"Do you not have a problem with it?" Lorenzo asked Draco.

The blond boy shrugged, "I have a lot of regrets regarding muggle-borns. I don't want anymore."

Lorenzo groaned.

"Times are changing, Enzo," Pansy said gently, "I think you should change with them."

The man scowled and stormed off.

Meanwhile, you had finally spotted Pansy across the room, surrounded by the Slytherin boys— including Theo. You took a deep breath, deciding for the sake of a potential friendship you would have to bear it and fulfil her request of saying hi. You arrived at their group moments after you had seen Berkshire leave angrily.

"Uh, hi," you said to Pansy.

"Hi," her face lit up, "Have you got a drink? I'll get you one."

"Oh, thank you."

"It's no worries— make yourself comfortable," she then turned to the boys, "Play nice."

Mattheo raised his hands in mock surrender, but all Theo did was keep his eyes glued on to you.

Zabini shifted along the sofa, gesturing for you to sit in between him and Theo, which you cautiously accepted. The second you felt the warmth of Theo's thigh brush against yours, sparks jolted through your body, and you nearly jumped. You could have sworn you heard his breath hitch, too. This was the first time in two weeks that he wasn't looking at you, instead his eyes were trained ahead like he was retaining every ounce of self control within him.

"The sexual tension is suffocating," Mattheo remarked, standing up to go after Pansy.

His statement seemed to fuel the flame that you had desperately been trying to keep dim inside of you, and suddenly staying sat next to Theo seemed like an entirely impossible task. You were not nearly drunk enough for this. Thankfully, Pansy returned quickly with Mattheo lingering behind her, and she handed you a glass.

"Firewhiskey and coke," she said simply.

"Thanks," you accepted the glass, and downed the entire thing, "I'll get another one."

You left them all, hearing Pansy scold Theo for scaring you off, but you could still feel his eyes burning holes into your back. Just a couple more drinks and then you would join the dance floor, you decided.

And there you soon were, grinding up against a Hufflepuff boy with liquid courage flooding through your veins. You had just about managed to push Theodore Nott to the back of your mind, but you knew that it was only a temporary fix. This Hufflepuff boy was attractive, but he didn't set you alight.

"Someone's jealous," Blaise chuckled, watching as Theo glared daggers at the boy you were dancing with. Ever since you had joined the dance floor, he had been necking back drinks like his soul depended on it, and it just might. With every gulp, he was feeling more reckless and dangerous. "Accept it, mate, you're in deep."

Theo let out a sound that bordered on a growl.

"The only thing stopping you is yourself."

And as Blaise's words sank in, and the Hufflepuff boy appeared to be going in to kiss you, something snapped within Theo. In a flash, he was on his feet and taking large purposeful strides in your direction. Then, the Hufflepuff boy was torn from your side and being punched directly on the nose with such a force he toppled over. He didn't even get a chance to fight back as Theo continued to hit him, merciless in his moves.

You stood in shock watching the scene unfold before you. After what felt like forever, Mattheo and Lorenzo showed up, pulling Theo off the poor boy who had done nothing wrong.

"What the fuck was that for?" the boy yelled, blood pouring down his face.

Theo said nothing, glaring at him as he finally stopped fighting his friends' grip.

"You need to calm down, mate," Mattheo said sternly, digging his fingers into his friend's bicep.

"Theo." You said, unaware what your intentions were when the name slipped out of your mouth. Regardless, his eyes snapped to yours, appearing to soften slightly as he observed your fearful stance.

What was stopping him, really? Did the purity of his bloodline really matter to him that much?

"I think you two need to talk," Mattheo said firmly, "And I think one of you in particular- not naming any names- needs to get over his own bullshit excuses and give into what he wants."

Theo's bloodied hand wrapped around your wrist, tugging you in the direction of the Slytherin dormitories. You didn't fight him, strangely feeling your fear slip away despite what you had just witnessed Theo be capable of. When you were stood in his empty dormitory, face to face, you knew that you would have to be the first to say something.

"You were jealous," you said it as delicately as you could.

He said nothing, not even looking at you. This made you angry— enraged, even.

"Fucking look at me, Theo!" you screamed, "You haven't had any difficulty with it all week— staring at me like I'm the shit on your fucking shoe!"

His eyes locked on to yours.

"If you regret fucking me, just say it!"

"I don't regret it," he said, his volume low but tone dangerous, "Everything I've been raised to believe wants me to regret it but I can't."

You stood, stunned at his confession.

"I need you like I need water, you're an itch I can't scratch," he was stepping closer to you, making you step back, "You make me feel fucking ecstasy and misery all at once."

Your back hit the wall, and he grabbed your wrist again, bringing it to press against his crotch.

"Do you feel what you do to me?" he said darkly, "I've never been so hard in my life."

You gulped, "I'm not just gonna be another of your bitches, Theo, so forget it." Even though you wanted it so bad, and you were dripping from your core.

"That's the thing, L/N," he chuckled sinisterly, "I don't think I could ever get enough. I don't think anyone else will be able to satiate me ever again."

You jaw dropped.

"I think..." he continued, "...that you're a drug I got addicted to after only one hit."

You closed your mouth, looking up at him expectantly.

"And I don't think I ever want to be sober from you."

"But, I'm a muggle-born-"

He cut you off by slamming his lips on to yours with such furious passion your mind became hazy as you eagerly returned the kiss, lifting up your arms to wrap them around your neck. For a moment, he pulled away, just to whisper, "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I don't think I care. I think I just want you in every humanly possible way."

"Then have me," you murmured.

It became a blur as his lips crashed on to yours yet again, and he picked you up by your thighs with his blood stained hands, leaving imprints on your bare skin through your fishnets. He moved you over to his bed, kissing down your neck while he blindly reached for the hem of your top. He wasted no time in pulling it off, along with your bra, so he could continue kissing down your body.

You relished the sensation— savouring it— feeling like you were the only girl in the world. Theo was treating you with such roughness and yet such care, like he had tunnel vision for you and only you.

He pulled off his shirt, before moving down to pull down your skirt, fishnets, and panties all at once. You watched breathlessly as he dived into your leaking pussy and ate you out like a man starved. He groaned, murmuring, "I've missed this taste so fucking much," before continuing his ministrations, eliciting the filthiest moans from you that had ever been produced. This felt even better than the last time.

"You are my goddess," he licked up your pussy, "And my devil."

He began sucking on your clit, and your body felt as if it was lifting from the bed as your orgasm hit you like a shockwave, coursing through your body and sending you to places you had only brushed against before.

"Fuck, Theo," you moaned, "Please fuck me."

The man didn't need telling twice, unbuckling his belt and kicking off his trousers. He didn't waste any time going to his bedside table to grab a condom out of the drawer, tearing it open and pulling it on in record speed. You would have helped him, but your orgasm had you borderline paralysed.

And, then, he was lining up in front of you— for the first time in his life, all he wanted was to fuck missionary. He wanted to see your face (and your nipple piercings that had him drooling) and he wanted to see your expressions as you came undone below him. To him, this was the most intimate that you could get in sex, and he only wanted that with you.

He groaned louder than he had ever groaned when he let himself push inside you, knowing that no other pussy would ever feel as magical as yours. Knowing that he should never have even considered depriving himself of this for some stupid blood purity reasons.

"Fuck, baby, you feel fucking amazing," he breathed out. You reached your arms up, gesturing for him to come down closer to you.

Theo obeyed, kissing you as he began thrusting, while his bloodied hands explored every inch of you, leaving a trail as they went.

"I'd rub your clit, but I don't want to get blood there," he said through heavy pants. You couldn't help but let out a small giggle, moving your own hand down to aid yourself along.

Your moans increased tenfold, as did his pace, and it wasn't long before he was biting down on to your neck in order to contain the groans that were fighting their way out of him. Who would have thought that such plain love making could make him feel so on top of the world?

"Theo- I'm gonna come," you choked out, and the way his teeth sank deeper told you that he was going to as well. As you both reached heaven in unity, he gave up suppressing his moans, and gave you the most melodious earful that you had ever heard as his movements became sloppy and tingles spread through your veins.

Eventually, he collapsed on top of you, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, stroking his hair gently as you lay in a post-sex haze.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, making your brain short circuit.

"You what?"

"I'm sorry for being a pretentious asshole."

A smile creeped on to your face, "So, is this just a sex thing, or...?"

"Fuck no," he snapped, "I need you all the time. You're mine."

"So, it's a girlfriend boyfriend thing?"

He froze, but then relaxed, and said into your neck, "Yeah, I guess it is."

"You guess?"

He sighed, "Well, you've ruined me for anyone else."

————————————————

masterlist

written; 07/04/2024 —> 08/04/2024 published; 10/04/2024 edited; —/—/——