#usually the answer is the work is its own the work is mine now

[alchemistc]

Pointing at the sign: we can all have opinions on the way celebrities conduct themselves but I beg of you - do not attack those celebs and do not attack their fans. Have conversations and discuss shit amongst yourselves but stop attacking people for either having criticisms they voice, or for continuing to stan.

A hot take posted on someone's own blog is not the same as jumping into pro-tags to post anti shit. If you are actively seeking out something that's gonna to annoy you or make you angry take a screenshot and gossip about it in the gc. Or like, just, leave it alone.

You can decide for yourself that you do or do not like a celeb, or a character, or a storyline. You can even have polite conversation or debate about things if both parties express that they are willing. But no one owes you shit. No one owes you a defense.

All we owe each other is enough room to breathe and some golden rule respect.

[aliteralsemicolon]

Yours - 18+

Main masterlist | AU Masterlist

Spencer never thought he’d be lucky enough to find you, but he has. You have all his devotion and all he hopes for in return is for you to let him stay yours.

Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

DISCLAIMER This story contains strong themes and detailed descriptions of adult content. It is intended for mature audiences only, minors do not interact!  You are responsible for the content you consume. Make sure to read all necessary warnings. Please remember this is a work of fiction; if you don’t like it, don’t read.

WARNING: Smut: softdom! Spencer, grinding, hickies, penetration, PinV, unprotected sex (this can lead to babies & stds btw, avoid this by being fivehead and using a condom), creampie. Proceed at your own risk.

Word count: 5.3K See notes at end for authors note & spoilers.

The question regarding the existence of soulmates is not a question that can be answered using science. Any individual’s answer to the question is more of a personal belief than a factual answer. And as a man of science, one would think that Spencer Reid would at least attempt to refute the ideology when asked. 

The ideology that he himself is not whole, but only half of an intertwined soul. That another person is not only his other half, but also his better half. Somebody with whom he shares such a natural, deep understanding, that he feels complete simply by existing in their presence. It’s one of those phenomena he can’t explain, but only this one, he’s confident is true. 

“Spence?” A light nudge accompanied by the whisper of his name breaks him away from his thoughts.

“Hm?” He blinks rapidly, focusing his eyesight on your curious face with a matching look.

The light from a singular bedside lamp only reaches half of his face. It casts a beautiful, soft contrast on his sharp features. The gold that’s usually hidden by the brown makes his irises look like sparkling pools of honey. Ethereal -not a word you would use when normally describing a man- but that’s how he looks. 

“Do you believe in soulmates?” 

He hadn’t ever thought he could believe in such a thing. Mostly because he’d always been sure that he would never experience it. 

“Do you?” His voice carries your question back to you. 

You can hear the city buzzing outside. Cars honking angrily in a futile attempt to speed up the pace of the traffic. People conversing, arguing, laughing. Loud thuds of music from the upstairs neighbour who cares little about the piling noise complaints. Somehow, the hum of Spencer’s words is the only sound that your ears register. 

“I asked first.” You playfully scoff, breaking eye contact and swivelling your head straight.

Spencer mirrors your motions, both of you now facing the ceiling as you remain side by side on his bed. 

“Yes.” His answer is barely above a whisper. 

It seems that your bodies want to make up for lost contact. You can feel his pinky reaching out to touch yours as you meet him halfway. 

“Me too.” 

A comfortable silence takes over the conversation. Everything feels still. The only movement is that of his fingers grazing against yours. He’s touched you in far more personal places tonight alone, and this is still one of your most intimate moments. There are no expectations or hidden agendas. This is simply the two of you existing in each other's presence; his preferred way to exist. It stretches until another inane question makes its way to the forefront of your mind.

“Do you ever wonder if you’ll get to meet them in this lifetime?” 

He pushes his frame up and rotates to face you as he sinks back down to the mattress. His head rests on the arm folded below it. You turn your head back to him so that you’re both holding eye contact again. 

“No.” He mouths the answer, his voice hesitant to raise at first. “I wonder whether mine is a romantic bond or platonic.” 

Your stomach flutters at the insinuation and you shift to mirror his position this time. In the midst of shuffling, the two of you seem to have closed a good chunk of the distance between you. 

“What do you want it to be?” You whisper, entranced by his gaze. 

Two of his knuckles lightly skim your cheek before those fingers brush your hair away from you. The act alone is enough to make your face heat up, no matter how many times he’s done it before. He begins to lazily stroke your hair, scratching your head in the process. It gives you the same tingling sensation you get from some rare ASMR videos. 

You don’t follow up on your question, unable to remember anything that was on your mind beforehand. His touch, combined with the minimal lighting and close proximity provides you with a sense of security you rarely feel otherwise. Your lids begin to grow heavy and you're forced to break eye contact when the weight of them becomes too much. 

“That’s really distracting y’know.” You mumble, eyes closed and voice hazy. 

“I know.” He mutters, almost without sound. 

He can’t help his smile as he watches you drift to sleep. He’s studied every feature on your face at least a hundred times and he’s yet to find a single flaw. The fact that you’re okay with being this vulnerable with him is a privilege that he’ll thank any and every deity he doesn’t even believe in for. Faint snoring indicates that you’re now dead to the world, but he can’t let your previous question go unanswered. 

“Whichever one allows me to be yours forever.”

Waking up to the warmth of your body pressed against his is by no means a recent development in your relationship with Spencer. Your back is to his chest and his arm is draped across your stomach, trapping you against him. Not that you mind. You’ve been lying still as you are for almost a while now, your thumb caressing the side of his wrist. With a yawn nuzzled into your neck, Spencer attempts to pull you closer to him, closing distance that was never there to begin with. 

He can feel the rise and drop of your chest; you can feel the beating of his heart behind yours. Neither of you is fully awake yet, opting to enjoy the silence and comfort of the other's presence. Your bodies are so closely tangled that your skin is almost melding with each other. 

Almost. 

The unexpected brushing of his hardness against your ass sends a jolt of electricity passing through you, waking you up in an instant. If it were anybody else, perhaps you would’ve felt ashamed of how that passing moment made your insides jump. You definitely wouldn’t have arched your barely clothed cunt towards the obstruction. A sharp exhale fans across the back of your neck, and you can practically feel the corners of his lips pull into a lazy smirk. 

“Well, good morning.” A groggy voice leans into your ear and the grip on your belly tightens.

“Morning.” You breathe out, barely audible.

You feel yourself clench around nothing when a hot, sticky kiss lands just behind your ear. Your arch intensifies when another one lands below your jaw and you unintentionally grind against him. It earns you a low grunt from him, which only prompts you to repeat the motion without thinking. His head drops in the nook of your shoulder, taken slightly off guard. He meets you halfway the third time, and it sets both your hips in a slow motion of rubbing against each other.

He can hear you hum each time his confined erection strokes your bundle of nerves and it sparks a determination in him to get more out of you. His hand trails from your abdomen to your pelvis, stopping just at the band of your underwear. He tugs the fabric, not making any further moves until you allow him to. You know that if you don’t take control now he’s going to prolong his foreplay, something you don’t have the patience for right now. He always makes it a point to make you finish at least once before he even considers himself. 

Out of the four times you came the night before, three of them were with his head between your thighs. You can’t even count the number of times you’ve teased him about how he probably gets off on pleasing you more than you do. You surprise him when you grab his hand and push it away from you, swinging yourself around to straddle him. Your hands land on either side of his head and you lower your forehead to rest against his. 

“Nuh-uh!” You taunt and it makes him snort. 

His palms trace your sides, arms wrapping around you, pulling your torso down to him.

“You’re not allowed to touch me this time.” You add in a hushed tone.

“No?” His brows raise in amusement.

“No.” 

You barely breathe out the word when his arms drop from around you. A slight chill takes over the area.

“No!” You repeat in a whiny tone, pushing yourself to sit up. 

You’re looking down on him from this angle, and God, does he look beautiful. His fluffy, sleep-tousled hair frames his face beautifully, the faint light of the rising sun only adding to the sight. 

“That’s not what I mean and you know it!” 

“I don’t know. You need to be clearer with what you want.” He chuckles. 

“I want you to stop being a little shit.” You retort, reaching for his hands.

You attempt to settle them on your thighs, but he removes them again. 

“I’m not allowed to touch you. Remember?” He emphasises the word allowed on purpose.

Both of you know that he’s the only one allowed to touch you and vice versa. Even if it wasn't something you both agreed upon, you’d never let anybody else touch you like him. If they even knew how to.

“You can touch me.” You roll your eyes, pulling his hands back to your skin. “But you can’t fuck me with anything other than your dick.”

Your curt tone doesn’t surprise him. He’s used to your boldness. Using your hips, he pulls you down onto his bulge completely. You don’t anticipate the sudden friction and it takes everything in you to not topple over on him. Spencer wasn’t prepared for the impact of his actions either, his head lolling back as he hisses sharply. 

“Yeah?” He questions through half gritted teeth. 

He’s painfully hard and the current view isn’t helping. He can clearly make out the shape of your curves under your flimsy t-shirt. How it drapes on the apex of your breasts, how the hem pools just above your thighs. His grip tightens against the plush of your skin. 

“Mhm.” You breathe out, eyes fluttering as you keep your core pressed to him. 

“Words, sweet girl. Use your words.” His breathing is laboured and it’s taking all of his willpower to not rut his dick back up against you.

The praise breaks you. You can no longer hold yourself up, falling into his chest. 

“Please fuck me.” You can only whisper in his ear, sending chills down his spine. 

He groans, grabbing you by the waist and flipping both of you around so you’re the one lying on the bed. It seems that he’s become just as impatient as you, if not more. He captures your lips in a deep, demanding kiss as he tugs his boxers just enough for his length to spring free. His tongue swipes your lips, seeking entrance and you grant it to him. He finds your kisses addicting. It takes an incredible amount of willpower to break them, but he does, sitting up on his knees. 

He parts your legs, placing one on either side of him and yanking you closer to him. You squeak in response, not processing the action until your cores are once again pressed together. You sigh when he pushes your panties to the side and runs a finger up your slit. A satisfied hum escapes him when he learns just how aroused you are. You sigh when runs his tip against you next, lining himself up with your cunt and pushing just the tip inside. Each of his hands intertwine with yours as he moves them above your head. He then leans in and plants a feather-light kiss on your cheek. 

“Like this?” He whispers in your ear.

He pushes in a little more and pulls out just enough for him to stay lined.

“More!” You whine, breathlessly, brows furrowing from anticipation.

“Mhm.” He doesn’t properly acknowledge your desperation and instead latches onto the skin under your jaw, sucking gently. 

You sigh at the sensation, arching more as his shaft pushes in again. This time, he doesn’t stop until he’s completely bottomed out. You moan and squeeze his hands, still intertwined with yours above your head. You never expect how full he makes you feel. Spencer squeezes your hands in return, still reeling in from how well your cunt accommodates him. He takes a minute, resting himself inside you to allow time for both of you to adjust to the feeling. 

He releases your skin with a small pop and moves a new spot on your neck. You think about how you’re going to have to use concealer to hide the marks he’s surely leaving behind and it makes you clench around him. The effect on him is instantaneous, a harsh groan vibrating against your throat and he sucks harder. The sound only makes your walls tighten more and it cues him to start thrusting. 

The initial pace is slow, but calculated; the kind that makes your joints loosen and jaw slack. He takes the opportunity to capture your lips in another long and consuming kiss. A loud moan ripples out from both of you and your hands deepen their hold on each other. Spencer’s not shy about letting you hear how good you make him feel and that drives you insane. 

Your hands instinctively try to reach for his hair, but he’s pinned you down tight. You whine into his mouth, pressing your fingers between his knuckles. Your whine fizzles out into a series of smaller whines when his hips speed up, hitting that sweet spot with every thrust. 

“Mm–Spence–mmph–”

You try to break the kiss to speak, but he simply drops a quick kiss on your jaw before reclaiming his place against your lips. He’s too lost in the taste of you to pay full attention. It takes you a moment to find the willingness to try again, but you do. You arch your hips too high for him to be able to follow from this position, forcing him to slip out from you and try to remove your hands from his grip. His focus is brought back to you and he lifts himself back on his knees, releasing you. 

“What’s wrong? Have I hurt you?” 

“M-mm” You shake your head and push yourself up on your hands.

You then shift into his lap, draping your arms around his shoulders. He gives you a curious look, wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“I want to be able to hold you.” You admit with a slight shyness in your tone.

A light smile spreads across his face, brows arching in surprise. Being a genius and all, he’s always known he was needed in some way or another. You’re the first person who’s ever made him feel wanted, truly wanted. With no motive other than simply existing with him. It sparks a new desire, one you see light up behind his eyes. He leans into your lips, his hold on your waist tightening and he moves one arm to cradle the back of your head. 

You pull yourself flush against him, wrapping your arms around his neck as your tongues dance together once more. He lifts you up and places you back down against the mattress, mouth never leaving yours. You feel his palm raise one of your legs by the back of your knee and he’s entering you again. He rests that leg on his shoulder, while the other hangs by his waist and begins to build an unrelenting pace. 

You wail into his mouth at the intensity of his thrusts, eyes rolling behind closed eyes. It’s almost brutal, the way he’s slamming into you. Your hands desperately cling onto his bicep and shoulder, nails digging into the skin. His grunts and groans increase each time he gets deeper, if that’s even physically possible and it only makes you desperate for more. Your kiss breaks with a slight sting against Spencer’s lip. You didn’t realise how hard you were biting it in an attempt to stay grounded. 

There’s a shift in the atmosphere that you can’t explain. Even though Spencer was railing you so hard that even the bed had begun to cry out, there was an overwhelming sense of longing between you two. An ache to express how you belong to the other, hidden behind an uncouth sight. It’s compensation for those lack of words, a physical exchange expressing your biggest secret. He’s everywhere; your current position has you feeling Spencer in places you didn’t deem possible. 

His mouth works over whatever exposed skin it can access along your jaw and throat, leaving goosebumps and bruising stains in its wake. His cock is driving into you so fast that you swear it’s going to imprint on your walls. There’s a fire in you, one that only he can put out. Every inch of him can be felt within every inch of you. Now you’re truly melded with each other. 

“Fuck–oh my God!” You scream out, your nails digging harder into his flesh. 

He’s consuming all of your senses, at this moment you don’t know anything other than him. Eyes open or closed, all you can see is his sculpted face. You’re drowning in his scent. Melting at his touch. The taste of his kiss still lingers on your tongue. Your ears are flooded with the slaps of his skin meeting yours and your mixed moans and grunts. 

“Spen–fuck–gon–fu–cum!” 

He hasn’t even spared your ability to speak. With a short kiss, he brings his forehead back to rest on yours in a firm manner. 

“Me too, pretty girl.” He pants his sentence in broken pauses. “Me too.” 

He secures the leg on his shoulder from the back of your thigh and then brings the other leg on his other shoulder. It gives him room to drive himself deeper and makes you lose all control, every joint in your body threatening to fall limp. Your face contorts and you bite your lip, trying to control the flurry of screams. It results in high-pitched whines forcing their way out. 

“Spencer! I can’t–I can’t–I can’t” 

You can’t hold on any longer. 

“I know. I know.” There’s barely any voice accompanying his words. “We’ll do it together, okay? Where do you want me?”

“Inside–inside–ins-shitshitshit…” 

“Inside? Inside.” He struggles to keep himself together while talking you through it. “Ready?” 

You nod fervently and he steals one long, final kiss from you as he finally empties himself in your spent cunt. Your own orgasm crashes through in a long passing wave. You feel like you’re floating in the ocean with millions of stars as your only view for miles. He follows up with a few final thrusts, burying himself as far in you as possible. 

When you finally come to, Spencer’s pulled out and is lying right next to you. Peppering kisses over your face in intervals and muttering praises as strokes away hair glued to your face. 

“Did so well.”

“So good to me.”

“I’m so proud of you.”

For some reason, the water always feels nicer running down your body when you use Spencer’s shower. He’s a simple man; he doesn’t really have a lot of products to use besides the basic shampoo, conditioner, soap, and body wash. The exfoliators, masks and such were your initial additions that he keeps topping up after they run out. 

You haven’t said much since coming out of your euphoric state, only showing your gratitude and appreciation through small touches. Brushing a hand against his cheek, leaving a peck on his shoulder, wrapping your arms around him in a hug. He doesn’t mind your silence. It doesn’t deter him from showering you with praise while he looks after you. You’re so disorientated that you’re letting yourself be guided from one instruction to the next. 

“Lift your leg for me, sweet girl. Hand on my shoulder.” 

He helps you act out his command, grabbing your wrist and draping it on his shoulder while helping you lift your leg. His touch is tender, but he’s careful to cover every area with body wash. 

“Good girl.” 

You don’t physically react, but his approval makes you swell with pride. Sex is the least intimate part of your time with Spencer. What you really enjoy is how safe he makes you feel. You know that even if you show him your worst and ugliest moments, he won’t reject you. You trust him with parts of you that you barely trust yourself with. 

Anybody who’s touched your naked body before him doesn’t matter, because not one of them has gotten to touch it past the realm of physical pleasure. To you, the act of washing one’s body is so private, so sacred that it can’t be trusted with just anybody. How many are able to look past the lens of sexual release and view your skin and bones as something to cherish? Not even you can claim to view yourself in such a precious way. 

But Spencer does. 

Even as pats you dry and wraps you safely in a warm towel, he doesn’t demean your worth. They’d be thoughts he could easily keep hidden in the comfort of his own mind, but the thoughts simply don’t occur. You don’t realise how long the two of you are standing there, leaning into each other's arms against the counter. Nor do you realise how long it’s taken you to mentally return to him. The first thing you do notice is so trivial, it’s almost laughable. 

“You’re out of apple juice, by the way.” 

Even you’d laugh if you heard yourself bring up something so random.

“Do you want apple juice? We can go buy some more.” He replies in a quiet mumble.

In his presence, you can think such thoughts without the concern of being laughed at. 

“No, I’m not gonna make you go to the grocery store just for apple juice.” You shake your head, expression oozing sarcasm. 

“I need to buy a lot more than apple juice. I’m pretty sure I don’t even have enough to make eggs or coffee.” He snorts, running his fingers through your hair. 

“Right. I forgot, Mister F.B.I.” You snort back, playfully poking his arm. “How was your time in Alaska?” 

It’s really common for your brain to malfunction around Spencer. You don’t feel the need to think or stay on alert if he’s with you. 

“Grim. Bleak.” He keeps it short on purpose. 

He doesn’t want to taint what little time he has with you focused on the gory parts of his job. Or any parts of his job at all. He spends too much of his time there as it is, so he’d much prefer to keep that part of his life separate from you. Spencer didn’t understand what it truly meant to live until after you came into his life. He’d never admit it out loud, but being around you made him realise how much of his soul his job steals from him, piece by piece. You make it whole again.

“How bad was it?” Curiosity still gets the better of you at times.

“Awful. You weren’t there when I woke up every morning.” He steers the conversation again. 

“Uh-huh.” You smirk, looking up at him. “You say that to all your girl-friends the morning after?” 

He takes a small step back, creating space as he cups your face.

“Even if I had the social skills required, when do you honestly think I would have the time between being at work and being with you?” 

“When you’re at work. Duh.” You tap his temple, playfully, voice dripping with sarcasm.

He scoffs, unamused. It’s something Spencer can’t honestly even imagine. You’re his solace, his best friend…his person. 

“Get dressed.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “We’ll stop by that bakery you love and get some food in your system. Hopefully before your suggestions start becoming more and more insane.” 

You don’t appreciate the awestruck look on his face when you’re certain you’ve got chocolate lining the corners of your mouth. You attempt to glare at him, but it doesn’t last and you find yourself fighting back a smile.

“Cut it out!” You groan, stringing out the end of your sentence. 

The trolley comes to a halt as you stop to grab your phone, but he snatches it out of your hand before you can open the camera.

“Hey–”

“I’m revoking your phone privileges until your urge to keep checking your reflection fizzles out.” He states casually, slipping the phone into his pocket as he reaches for a loaf of bread on the top shelf. 

“Revoking my– what are you my fucking mother?” You reach for his pocket, but he grabs your wrist before you can retrieve your phone. 

You try to use your free arm, but he traps that one in his hands too. 

“I don’t wanna walk around with chocolate around my mouth!” You whisper-shout, mindful of other shoppers passing by.

“For the fifth time, you don’t have chocolate anywhere on your face. It wasn’t there after you finished your shake and it won’t be there no matter how many times you check.”

You ignore him, trying to free yourself from his grip.

“You don’t believe me?” The look on his face is more entertained than shocked.

“Spencer, my fluffy-headed, genius bookworm, I would put my life in your hands if you asked me to but after that time you let me walk around with my lipstick smudged–”

“That happened one time!” He gripes, less concerned about his volume. 

“I looked like I came straight off the clock from a circus!” 

“It wasn’t that bad!” 

“Six hours, you let me walk around like that!” 

If he were to be completely honest, he was completely enraptured by your long tangent about why you despise dolphins. Most of it wasn’t based on facts and the parts that were, weren’t really a feasible argument since morals are a uniquely human concept. However, that was the day he uncovered how brightly you light up when you talk about something you’re passionate about. He spent the rest of that time, subtly digging, trying to figure out the topics that made you glow so he could keep bringing them up. 

“There’s nothing there. Your face is– looks perfect.” He fumbles on his words.

“I can feel it!” You protest.

“That happens because–”

“Reid?” An unfamiliar voice calls out from behind you.

Spencer lets go of your wrists as you turn to face the owner of the voice. Two blondes, one behind the other. One of them is a lot more colourful and bold, with large statement jewelry and a pair of gorgeous platform heels that match her dress. The other is less vibrant, but with no less confidence and blue eyes that stand out like diamonds shining under lights. 

“Hey! What are you guys doing here?” 

You’re not a profiler, but you don’t miss the immediate shift in Spencer’s demeanour. He seems a lot more reserved and shy, as compared to the confidant and playful version of him that you know. 

“We’re picking up some things for my birthday bash this weekend.” The brown-eyed blonde chirps. “The one that I will definitely see you at, no excuses allowed!” 

“Right.” He gives an awkward, tight-lipped smile. 

Spencer loves his coworkers, he really does. They’re basically his family. However, he wants nothing more for them to go away right now. Not for any reason other than wanting to keep you away from them, because he knows them. For all their amazing qualities, there’s one that annoys him the most and that’s how nosey they can be. Especially when it comes to him. 

“Hi. I’m JJ.” The blue-eyed blonde takes the initiative to introduce herself, reaching out her hand for a friendly shake.

He knows it’s from a place of love. He’s the youngest member of the team, they all want to protect him, but he detests how they coddle him. He can already sense the incoming invitation from Garcia to her birthday. He knows that it won’t take long for you to befriend everyone on his team, because, well, they’re all amazing people. Integrating you with that part of his life is something he’s just not ready for. Not like this.

“I’m Penelope and oh my goodness, you are just gorgeous!” 

He enjoys how when he’s with you, he can exist in a separate bubble. Where all he is, is not the resident genius of the BAU. More than that, he knows of the dangers that come with integrating the two separate lives. He’s seen the losses that occur, whether they be by generic circumstances or unplanned deaths. And there’s nothing he can do to stop his worlds colliding, a fact he has to grasp as soon as he zones back in to find three sets of eyes staring at him, expectantly.  

“Right.” He clears his throat, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “These are my– um– this is Penelope Garcia and Jennifer Jareau, or JJ. We work together.” 

The introduction is hesitant and rushed at best, but you chalk it up to him being taken off guard. You want to gauge his mood, try and figure out where his head’s at, but that’s going to have to wait. 

“Oh my God! I knew it!” Garcia gasps dramatically, taking your hand in hers. “You’re the reason he’s always in a rush to leave now! It is so nice to meet you!”

Garcia’s not wrong. You are the reason he’s always in a rush to get away. You’re his escape from the harsh realities he faces every day. You’re unsure of how to respond. In fact, you’re not even certain as to what’s going on. Nobody else seems to match Penelope's enthusiasm. Spencer looks mortified, while JJ looks like she wants to drag Penelope away. Still, everybody’s too frozen to stop her. 

“Did you know that you have him checking his phone more than a lovestruck teenage girl? Him! One of the biggest technophobes I’ve ever met!”

This is also a fact. Spencer’s not an idiot. He’s not oblivious to the open-mouthed stares he gets every time he’s caught smiling like a dopey idiot after looking at the screen. He’s just never cared. It’s almost impossible to ignore any notification from you. He doesn’t feel great about that coming to bite him in the ass right about now. 

Given different circumstances that were more in his control, Spencer would be elated to introduce the most important people in his life to each other. This whole interaction is actually shorter than he feels it is, but for Spencer, time moves too slowly. He can sense how the safety of your company as he knows it, the most valuable aspect of his life, is under threat of being ripped away from him with every second that passes. Without you, Spencer would once again find himself lost. 

“Spencer, you have to bring her to my bash this weekend! Everybody would love to meet your girlfriend!” Garcia wiggles her eyebrows, eyes smirking beneath her glasses.

Because all he is, is yours. 

“Oh! Uhm–” You begin.

“No Garcia, she’s–this is…my friend..” He adds at the same time, unable to hide his stutter.

At least, that’s all he wants to be.

“Right…we’re just…friends.” You confirm with a half-hearted smile at the reminder of your reality. 

It was better this way. The two of you agreed on this at the start of your arrangement. 

Spoilers: Mostly just fluff, a sprinkle of angst, smut, lots of mutual pining, friends with benefits.

AN - I felt a surge of evil take over my bones when I wrote this and any events that unfolded were out of my control. This is not my finest work, but once I thought of it I had to share it. Also I know I said not to bother me about fics bc uni and I still mean that, I just don’t know what happened. It’s like I got a bit of inspo and couldn’t help myself. Huge thanks to @mrs-dr-reid for beta reading! FWB Writing Challenge by @imagining-in-the-margins Prompt - "I wanna be yours" by Arctic Monkeys

No bc writing that opening scene on the bed might be my favourite and u should tell me if u agree bc I wanna write more like that, but if u hate it then I won't.

Thanks for reading.

[bunni-v1]

how do you think lighter would handle the reader after learning it is going to be their first time aka a virgin reader x lighter

Lighter and Virgin!Reader

🍓Yayay! I wanted to really take my time to write this one, so sorry that I didn't get it out super quick. Wrote it while listening to Christmas music btw, probably gonna write smth smutty for Christmas now. I've never written full-on smut outside of an RP setting so... apolocheese if this is cringe. You can throw tomatoes at me, I will eat them like the rodent I am.

Minors DNI

TW: NSFW; First time!; sickeningly sweet lighter; grammar errors probably lol (I promise I edit my stuff).

Info: Lighter x Reader; Nsfw; Fluffy; no pronouns but reader is fem bodied

Lighter is, and always has been, a rather simple man. While he loves you and respects you more than anything in the world, he too has thoughts that any man might have. It was only natural that he found you... mmm... titillating. You were his partner after all, and you were very good-looking if you asked him.

So many times he's found you on his lap, or beneath him whichever comes easiest at the time, drowning in your sweet lips. His hands wandered over your clothed sides, desperate for a taste of the real thing. He was addicted to you, and sweet candies couldn't placate him this time. It was heavenly having you in his grasp, so very close to everything he'd been dreaming about.

The only issue was that you always seemed to have some excuse to push him away. He'd fisted his cock one too many times alone in his room after another failed encounter, and he just didn't get it. You always seemed so eager, so pliant, right up until he slid his hands below your shirt.

The second his fingers made contact with the soft, oh-so-tempting skin there you would jump like he'd burned you. Then you'd push his eager hands down and come up with some lame reason to leave. He understood that maybe you weren't ready, that was okay, but didn't you feel safe enough to tell him? No, surely something else was going on. He could tell, there was something else that was holding you back, and he was going to figure it out.

Tonight would be the perfect chance to do just that. The girls were busy doing their own thing at the bar, leaving him with all the free time in the world to be alone with you. As usual, he had you on his lap, mouths working against each other. His tongue pressed into yours, happily exploring its space as he swallowed up your whimpers and whines.

Fingers press into your thighs like a vice, desperate for all the skin they can get their hands on. As you wind your fingers into his hair, he takes it as his sign to slide his hands up to your hips, slowly pressing you down into him. You jolt a little in his grasp, drawing a low chuckle from the back of his throat. So cute.

You pull back from him, a thin string of saliva keeping you connected, eyes wide and face flushed. Your chest heaves with effort, and your hair is an absolute disaster. It makes his cock twitch in his jeans, another gasp falling from your pretty swollen lips at the sensation.

"Lighter..." You say breathlessly, and he knows its meant to be a scolding remark, but he just finds it too cute.

He cocks his head to the side, "What? Too much to handle?"

You give him an eye roll that is all too endearing, trying and failing to straighten out your messy hair, "It's getting late, I should probably head to mine soon."

His smile falls from his face, disappointed again, like clockwork. He can't even find it in himself to hide it anymore, which makes you frown too. You press a kiss on his cheek, apologetically, "What's wrong? Why is my champion pouting?"

The pet name is almost enough to get him to forget everything, but then you shift on his lap a little and his hard-on screams at him to at least get some kind of answer. So he sighs, patting the meat of your thigh almost sadly, "Why do you always do that?"

You raise an eyebrow, which he mirrors. You know better than to play dumb, Lighter can see right through the schtick. Your demeanor cracks first, and you seem genuinely nervous as you respond, "I don't know..."

"Listen, baby. If you're not ready all you gotta do is tell me--" He tries to soothe you, because he doesn't want you to be upset. There was no shame in just not being ready, but you cut him off before he can finish his reassurances.

"No, it's not-" A grumble leaves your chest, "I want to, I really do I just... I get nervous."

It's his turn to raise an eyebrow at you, sunglasses slanting down his nose as he tilts his head curiously, "What's there to be nervous about...?"

You fluster, looking anywhere your eyes can find that wasn't him. You were awfully cute when you were embarrassed, but he couldn't let himself get distracted. With the gentlest touch to your chin, he refocuses your attention on him. A reassuring smile on his face, urging you without words to tell him what was wrong.

Some kind of war goes on behind your pretty little eyes, and he has to tap your lip with his thumb to center you again. You pout against the finger, and it takes everything in him not to push it up and into your mouth. Finally, after what seemed like ages of waiting, you give another sigh. "I'm... a virgin."

"Oh," he says, automated like a robot. It takes his brain a moment to click the gears together, but once they do, he nods. Oh. That makes so much sense.

"I'm sorry," you mumble, pressing off his chest to get up, but he tugs you back into his lap. Giving you a reassuring squeeze, praying to whatever there was out there for you to give him a moment to collect his thoughts.

It really isn't a big deal to him, not at all. He'd taken people's virginity before - former partners he doesn't even remember the names of - but you. Getting to be your first? It felt like the world had both blessed and cursed him at the same time. You didn't have a good frame of reference, which was great. He'd be the best partner you've had. Yet... he'd also be the only partner you've had, and that was a lot of pressure to put on a guy like him.

"Lighter?" You squeak out, face all nervous and cute in a way that just drives him wild.

A huff leaves him before he can think better of it, causing you to frown a little. His arms wrap around your middle, tugging you closer to him, "That's all? Here you had me thinking you weren't attracted to me all of a sudden."

The response takes you off guard, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. Had you genuinely thought that would be a turn-off for him? What do you take him for, some prude? "I- I mean, you know... I don't have any experience, and I figured since... since you had it would just-"

He hushes you, trying his best not to laugh at how ridiculous the thought is. Most guys would leap to be in his shoes, it was a loser's wet dream to take some innocent angel like you and ruin you. Not Lighter, though. Despite how many times he'd fucked his hand thinking about your pretty little body, he would make sure your first time was perfect. He really needed it to be perfect.

"I don't care about that, baby." There's a teasing lilt in his tone that sends shockwaves down your spine, "I just want you to be happy."

It was your turn to be dumbfounded, staring at him like he had spoken forbidden texts in tongues you didn't understand. He tilts your head with the hand still holding your chin, and it's incredibly sexy the way his sunglasses dip a little so you can see the genuineness in his eyes.

"Would it make you happy if I took your virginity?" You give a slow, dumb nod, and he presses closer, "Do you wanna try tonight?"

Lighter watches with thinly veiled amusement as the pieces slip into place for you, face so warm he could feel it at this distance. You seem to have stalled a bit, so he gives you an award-winning smile and taps your lips to remind you to use them.

"Yes. Please." You blurt out, and it's so incredibly unsexy and awkward, but he still bites his lip like you were sex incarnate.

He gives you all but three seconds to admire the (so, so incredibly hot) look on his face before he's picking you up with no effort, hands wrapped under the swell of your ass like they were made to be there. You cling to his shoulders like a lifeline, and his cock strains in his stupidly tight jeans as he imagines you doing so without the jacket between your skin.

"Where are we going?" You ask, voice uneasy.

He smirks at you, "You didn't seriously think I was gonna let your first time be on some dingy outdoor couch, did you?"

You're silent all the way to his quarters after that, warm face buried into the crook of his shoulder. He can feel how nervous you are in the shaky breaths you let puff out onto his neck. He gives your butt a reassuring pat, which only makes you burrow yourself further into his neck.

He doesn't get to see your face again until he carefully lies you on his bed, and he's glad for it too. The nervous shimmer in your eyes would've been enough for him to bend you over any surface in a heartbeat. Your teeth nibble awkwardly on your swollen bottom lip, and he resists the urge to take it in between his own, instead busying his hands with shrugging off his jacket so he doesn't do exactly that.

You look near terrified when he climbs on top of you, so leans down to kiss your forehead, and in the gentlest voice he can muster whispers, "We'll go slow, but we gotta take our clothes off if we wanna do anything, m'kay?"

You give him a slow nod, slowly drifting your eyes down to his tight-fitting t-shirt. Once you seem to calm a little, he leans down and starts right where you left off. Capturing your lips in a soft kiss, slowly easing back into the passion from earlier. His hips press into yours, but they remain still against your heat. He would let you decide when you were ready for that again.

His hands eagerly slid around your thighs, squeezing the fat between his fingers and sighing as they sank against his touch. Always so malleable, it was addictive, but he couldn't get ahead of himself. This was all about you, after all.

Slowly, he inched his digits up to the edge of your shirt, pooling the fabric between them. You give a little jolt, pressing against his crotch a little harder than he expected drawing a hiss from between his teeth. He rubs his nose against yours, "Can we get rid of your shirt?"

Another slow, unsure nod, and he's easing you up just enough that he can tug the offending fabric up and out of the way. (No bra, thank god, he sucks at removing them.) The sight it reveals better than Lighter could've begun to imagine. Your chest rises and falls with your breath, mesmerizing him. You give him an unsure smile, nodding your head along with it, and he thinks he might genuinely die tonight.

He does not suddenly go into cardiac arrest, so instead his hands glide over your stomach, and it's everything he dreamed of and more. The skin is like heaven beneath his calloused fingertips, and the light whimpers and whines you give him are honey in his ears. You shift with every touch, jerking away and then easing into his touch. Unsure, but oh so willing and wanting.

He maps out each inch of your skin like he might lose his way exploring it, tracing all the way to the final destination of your chest. Your nipples are hard already in combination with his touching and the cold air around you. He gives you one last look, one last chance to tell him no, and then he runs his thumb over the tops of them.

The sound you make is delicious, something between a moan and a strangled choking noise -- almost confused at the pleasure you are feeling. He rolls them in his fingers a few times, watching your face intently as he does so. Your confused moans melt into sighs of contentment, so he decides to try his luck with his mouth. With your head rolled back, he ensures you can feel his breath before he presses his tongue to your skin.

You shoot up, gasping in surprise, but you don't make any move to push him away. No, instead you rake your fingers through his hair, pushing his shaggy bangs back so you can really look at him. Those emerald eyes lock with yours, making a show of slowly kissing his way back up to your chest. Along the contours of your collarbones, between the valley of your breasts, and finally right down to your perky bud.

Lighter takes a moment to really appreciate just how nice it looks up close, rather than through the fabric of your tank tops. Just the perfect size for sucking on, he thinks right before he engulfs the needy thing in his mouth. You throw your head back, chest hefting with your cry of "Fuck, Lighter."

He hums, only making it so much worse for you, the vibrations sending a shock through your body that makes you twist your hips just right. He takes his sweet time with your breasts, alternating between the two until you're a messy puddle below him. He hadn't even gotten past the waistband of your pants yet, and you were already so far gone. It was an ego booster, to say the least.

His free hand draws its way down your stomach, stopping at the edge of your pants. They dance their way along your abdomen, just itching to be let in, but not willing to disrespect your boundaries. Lucky for him, they don't have to wait long, and your own join him and carefully aid him in their removal.

It's then that he finally gives your chest a break, pulling back to tug your pants down your legs. Giving himself the time to finally admire you. He'd left... more than a few purple marks along your chest, all of which he thinks look incredibly nice in the light of the moon. His eyes trace their way down your stomach, just like his hands had, and land on the underwear you still had on.

They weren't particularly cutesy or sexy, but on you, it was the hottest thing he'd seen in years. They had a sizable wet spot in the middle, right where he wanted- no, needed to be. The only thing standing between him and tasting you was that thin piece of fabric.

A tug at the hem of his shirt draws him out of his daze, meeting eyes with your cute, nervous ones. It takes him a second to realize you wanted his shirt off, but once he gets the message, he wastes no time in shrugging it to the ground. Following it with his pants, leaving him in his boxers.

Your eyes trace their way along his figure, over his shoulders, across his stomach, and settle shyly on the outline of his dick. It only occurs to him then that you might find him just as attractive as he finds you. With eyes blown wide and distracted as you drink him all in, it's hard to avoid how much you're admiring the view right now.

He has the decency to act embarrassed, despite how he was practically drooling all over you just a few moments ago. He shivers when you reach up and trace your fingers over a scar, breath catching in his throat. "They're so pretty," you mutter, completely unaware that you had said that out loud. It could honestly make him cry. The way you look at him like he's some kind of art piece. So much love and admiration in your eyes. He can't handle it for long, even though you seem to be content just admiring his scars.

He grabs your hand, intertwining your fingers together as he presses you back into the mattress. You let out a huff as he pressed his forehead to yours, pouting now that he had interrupted your show. He gives you a few apologetic kisses, smiling at your pouting.

"Are you sure you wanna keep going, we can stop now if you want," he whispers, soft and gentle.

You nod, confident this time, "I'm ready. I wanna do this with you, Lighter. Not anyone else."

That makes his heart swell, sending the feeling right down to his dick, throbbing and reminding him he needs to prepare you. He wasn't usually one to brag, but he knew he was big, and it would be a tough take for your first time. If he wanted you to enjoy it, he'd have to take care to loosen you up first.

"Okay," he hums, reaching over to grab the lube and condoms from his nightstand, setting them nearby for when he needs it, "I'm gonna have to loosen you up first, and it's gonna hurt. You sure you can take it?"

He feels your muscles contract as he trails gentle, feather-light pecks along the edge of your underwear. "You'll take care of me, just like you always do..." Ah, you were gonna be the death of him tonight, he just knows it.

He hooks his fingers over the sides of your underwear, carefully tugging them down your legs like unwrapping a present he didn't want to ruin. What a gift he received as he threw the useless fabric to the floor, your pretty little cunt already drooling for him.

"God..." He mutters out, enchanted at the very sight. He adjusts his position one last time, making sure he is perfectly positioned in front of your gorgeous pussy. The view is something straight out of a porno, Lighter's messy hair shadowing his eyes as they stare into your very being, big hands gripping at your thighs -- like he was readying himself to consume you whole.

"You ready, baby?" He asks one last time, though it's painfully hard to do so now that he was literally right where he wanted to be, "Cause if you're not you better say so now, I don't think I could stop myself once I start, angel."

You give him the slowest nod known to man, followed by a timid little 'yes' and he's gone. His strong arms wrap under and rest atop your thighs, carefully pulling your folds apart to reveal the shining pearl he'd been dreaming of. Involuntarily he huffs out a hot breath, causing you to squirm a little in his grasp, and then he leans down and kisses your clit.

You jolt at the new sensation, another awkward breathy moan leaving your lips. He pulls back to give you a second, watching your expressions and committing them all to mind, and then he licks his lips and leans down for another wet kiss against your neglected bud. Then another, and another, and another, and at some point his tongue joins the barrage but you have no idea when. Too caught up in how good he's making you feel. So much better than your own fingers.

Lighter is in heaven, completely surrounded by nothing but you. Your little sighs, your skin, your sweet smell, and of course your juices dripping down his chin. You tasted so amazing, better than all the candies he ate. He swallowed you like a man starved, arguably more desperate for your pleasure than you were. Your little whines of his name only fueled him to suck on the little bud like a sweet treat, humming at the taste.

He wondered how many more moans he could get out of you if he added a finger... He had to stretch you out anyway, seems like now was better a time than any. One hand unwound itself from under your leg, snaking along the sheets right up under your bum.

Without taking his eyes or mouth off you he gently traces around your hole with his middle and index. Your hips grind up into his mouth, and he feels the way you clench against his fingertips. A smile grows on his face, god you were adorable, weren't you? He presses the tip of his finger into your heat, and you squeeze around it sucking him in like nothing.

"Shit..." He groans against you, the grumble going right through your nerves drawing a delicious moan out of you. He slowly pumps his finger at the same pace as his tongue, when it rolls across your clit, the finger presses up into you again. The white, hot pleasure that curls up your spine and through your body makes you arch your back. If he kept it up like this, you would cum faster than you ever had before.

Unfortunately, he pulls back and you whine like a needy child. He presses his thumb to your clit instead of his mouth as compensation, rolling in sweet little circles. Not nearly as pleasurable, but still enough to make your head spin, especially when you watch him press his cheek to your thigh to watch his own ministrations.

He is mesmerized by the way your hips jerk into his touch, his finger disappearing and reappearing over and over awfully stimulating for his relatively blank mind. His eyes lazily roll up to yours, smirking when he sees you watching him with lidded ones. "You like it, baby?"

You mutter an incoherent sound of approval, head falling back to the pillows, but that doesn't do it for him. He grabs your face with his free hand, focusing your expression on him yet again. As he does so, he eases a second finger in and you let out the most sinful moan of his name he's ever heard. He presses a kiss against your inner thigh, encouraging you to keep making those pretty noises.

He keeps on watching you, eyes having trouble focusing on both your face and your messy cunt. They're both such a good show, how could he be expected to pick which one was better. All the while he was sucking marks into your inner thigh, adding to the growing coil below your naval.

It was all too much for your poor little untouched body. His eyes watching you so carefully, the sting of his teeth on your thighs, his calloused thumb rubbing delightfully perfect circles against your swollen clit. You couldn't even think about anything other than how nice his fingers felt with circular motions right against that spot that your fingers could never reach.

"Lighter..." Your voice is so much more airy than you thought it would be, "I'm-"

He hums, understanding you without you needing to say anything at all. He removes himself from your thigh, climbing over to press his forehead against yours without stopping his movements. He wanted to see the face you made when you cum clearly. Wanted to have it etched into every corner of his brain so he could never dream of forgetting it.

"Go on then, I've got you," He encourages, and that's all it takes for the tight ball in your stomach to burst, and the flood of pleasure to take its place. You spasm around his fingers, juices coating them and dripping down his wrist. It's a beautiful thing to Lighter, watching the way your face scrunches up and then melts into pure pleasure. That was a face he could never forget, not in a million lifetimes.

He keeps his fingers moving at a slow and steady pace, easing you back down from your high. Only pull them out when you stop clenching around them, sucking your essence clean from them with a groan of satisfaction. "Delicious," He whispers, easing you back into the sheets, limbs soft and limp with the pleasant aftershocks of your orgasm.

Lighter is still there above you, watching with all the admiration in the world as your gaze refocuses on him. It's an infectious look that you subconsciously mirror, cradling his face in the palm of your hand.

"Feel good?" He asks, playing with a loose strand of your hair.

You nod, pressing a kiss to his nose, "Wonderful, actually. I don't know what I was so scared of."

He chuckles deep and warmly from the back of his throat, "I'm glad."

He presses gentle kisses across your cheek, nosing along your jaw and following with soft presses into the sensitive skin. You scratch his scalp appreciatively, more than happy to accept the affections.

"You wanna call it there?" He murmurs against your throat, hot breath leaving goosebumps in its wake, "Don't wanna push you too far."

You shake your head, frowning down at him, "No, no. I wanna keep going. It's not fair of me to leave you like... that." You gesture to his still rock-hard dick pressed against your thigh.

He comes back up to look at you, caressing your face with utmost care, "Don't worry about me, I can live without getting off."

"I know," you giggle, and it's such a sweet sound to him, "I want to, Lighter. I want you. Please indulge me just a little longer?"

He really can't argue with that, not with how you're smiling at him. "Alright," He sits up, grabs the condoms, and rips the box open with practiced ease, "but it's not gonna feel good to start."

"I know," You answer, sitting up to watch him slide his boxers down. His cock springs out, tip an angry red and bleeding precum down the shaft. It was an incredibly hot sight to see him slide the condom over himself, his muscles flexing from the much-needed attention. "I definitely know."

He smirks, settling between your legs again as he picks up the lube this time. "Enjoying the view?"

"Too much," you respond, enraptured as he tugs along his member a few times, shuddering at the sensation.

He takes the time to adjust you beneath him, tugging your hips up in an angled position. The manhandling is surprisingly hot, and your heart skips a beat when he grabs at your thigh more roughly than you're used to.

"I hope I can keep you satisfied," he muses, lining himself up with your pussy.

He runs the tip against your clit a few times, spreading a mixture of lube and your cum around, hissing to himself at the feeling. He wasn't even inside and he was already needing more of you, god what did you do to him?

He presses the tip against your weeping hole, hot and desperate against him. It fluttered in anticipation, feeling far too empty knowing what his fingers felt like. It had you praying to know what his cock felt like fully pressed inside. Surely it would fill you up even better.

His emerald green eyes come down to stare into yours, an intensity you've only ever seen from him in fights burning behind them. "Ready?"

You take a deep breath and then nod as assuredly as you can. You had no idea what you were getting into, but as the tip slowly sunk into you, you felt lightheaded. The sting was deep, drawing a hiss of pain out of you, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. He wasn't lying when he said it would hurt, but this was way worse than you expected.

He leans down, locking his fingers with yours and pressing loving kisses along your cheeks. His hair tickles your skin and it does wonders in distracting you from the burn of his stretching you. That was just the tip. If you couldn't handle that, how could you take the rest of him?

Lighter doesn't let you worry about it, rubbing his thumbs into your hips. Muttering sweet nothings into your sweaty skin, worshipping you like a god. Like you were his whole world. In his pleasure-fueled haze, that was more truth than it was fiction.

For every stinging inch, Lighter muttered praises and peppered a thousand more kisses across your burning skin. This was the most full you'd ever felt, and the more he pushed inside the more you wanted. He stuffed himself in to the hilt, stopping fully when his hips were pressed flush against yours. You shuddered at the sensation of his tip kissing your cervix. When he said he was big he meant it, and it was everything you wanted and more.

His rough hands slide gently along your sides, coaxing you to just look at him. Your glazed eyes slide over to his face, and you smile dumbly at his expression. His face is red, brows furrowed in concentrated effort and eyes clouded in lust. "You okay? Still hurt?"

You shake your head, chest rising and falling with more effort than you were used to. "It feels good. I like it."

He swallows hard, adam's apple bobbing in his throat. Fuck, he just can't stand it. You were so tight and warm, sucking him in like he was your last meal. He could feel your pussy clench around him suddenly, and he had to bury his face into your neck to stop himself from moaning out loud.

Who could've imagined a few years without sex would make him so weak. Maybe it was actually just you that made him like this. He couldn't possibly imagine any pussy better than yours, it felt like it was molded perfectly just for him. The thought occurs to him, like a stroke of genius, that this was his pussy and it was molded to him. Now that you let him fuck you once, he could do it again and again and again whenever either of you liked.

He liked that idea a lot more than he probably should, his cock twitching a little at the prospect. You squeeze back and he does moan this time, deep and throaty into your neck. It's quite the sound from such a big guy, making your skin tingle excitedly. You had been the reason for it, after all, it was flattering.

"Lighter?" You say, startling him. He looks up at you from his spot against your shoulder, "Can you move? I'm too full with you just sitting there."

He blinks at you, taking in your words carefully and digesting them. Yeah, you were gonna kill him tonight. You had no fucking clue what you were doing to him.

"Whatever you want," He mumbles out, pressing a wet kiss to your cheek, before slowly pulling out.

You groan out in tandem, the drag of his cock and a squeeze of your walls more pleasurable than you'd imagined. Then he pushes back in at the same pace and you shudder in his arms. He keeps the pace slow and easy, still able to remember that he wanted to be gentle despite how much he wished to be anything but. First time, he echoed in his head, take it easy Lighter.

Each drag of his cock against your plush warm insides has you gasping out, desperate for more and more. He watches you with an intensity to rival his excitement during a fight, taking in each detail with careful consideration. The way your brows scrunch up when he brushes that gummy spot with his tip, and how your teeth tug on your lips, and the way your eyelashes flutter when his hips lay flush into yours.

Lighter never considered himself an artist, but damn if you weren't his greatest masterpiece like this. You open your eyes and finally look at him, and the intensity in his gaze has you shying away into your palms. He can't have that, he wanted to look, so he grabbed your wrists and set them on his shoulders. They curl into the skin, crescent-shaped marks sure to form in the morning.

You still try to evade his gaze, so he follows with his own face, leaning forward. "Don't hide," he coos, his hands moving your hips with his upper body so he's fully leaning over you now, the new position allowing him to not only look at you but hit much deeper than before. "Lemme see yer pretty face."

A wanton moan is ripped from your throat as he picks up his pace, and you finally look at him when he grabs at your chin. His hair is stuck to his sweaty forehead, breathing heavily as he keeps up the new speed he's set. The wild look in his eyes is enough to make you clench and get to watch in real-time the effect it has on him. Swallowing hard as his eyebrows come together in pleasured surprise.

You were making it so, so hard on him, really you were. Each reaction you had made it so much more difficult to keep himself together. When you clench around him again he lets out a sound between a sigh and a squeak. Your fingers are running along the nape of his neck and through his hair, and it's nearly got him choking on air.

You're no better, hardly even coherent as his hips continue pistoning in and out of you at such consistent pacing. The wet slapping of skin on skin is the only thing you can focus on, everything else is too much for your muddled brain to understand.

The hand that isn't keeping your eyes on him comes down to massage your clit again, fingers splayed across your abdomen to feel himself through your skin while his thumb takes care of you. He was close, and he could tell you were too. Your moans getting more and more desperate, and the squeezing you gave him more and more desperate to keep him moving.

He didn't have it in himself to say anything coherent, so instead he settled on kissing you. Sloppy and uncoordinated and more teeth than anything else, but he still kissed you. Swallowing up every moan like a man starved.

His pace grows sloppy as he chases your highs, both of you moaning unabashedly loudly. He would hear from Lucy in the morning, he was sure of it, but that didn't matter too much to him now. Not when he felt you come undone around him. Your whole body tensed, desperate little cunt squeezing him in a vice grip and moans so delicious that he couldn't help but follow your lead.

He gives one last harsh thrust, and then he unloads into the condom. He thinks for a moment that he wishes it wasn't there but focuses instead on sucking at the juncture of your neck. You writhe under him, fingers raking down his back harsh enough to leave red lines in his skin.

It was better than he had expected it to feel, that was for certain. Even as he calmed down and came back to reality, there were little sparks of pleasure ringing through his body. He kissed his way over the marks he'd left on your body, waiting patiently for you to calm down before he pulled out.

Both of you let out sounds of complaint at the loss, but he knew that he couldn't stay inside you forever (no matter how nice that sounded). He smiled warmly down at you, caressing your face with such gentleness it could make you cry. "You alright...?"

You nod, brushing the hair out of his face so you can look at him properly, "This is probably the best I've ever felt in my whole life."

That gets him to laugh, pressing his forehead against yours, "I'm glad I could be of service."

"Did you-" You start, but he doesn't let you finish before he responds.

"Yes. I did enjoy myself, very much, baby." He hums, washing away any insecurities you could've had with ease.

He eases you up into a sitting position with him, holding you there until he is sure you will stay like that by yourself. Then, he stands and digs around his dresser for a towel to wipe you down with. You take the time to admire how nice his ass is out of those skinny jeans, humming to yourself at the sight.

When he rejoins you on the bed, you smirk at him, "Your ass is nice."

"Yeah," he huffs out a laugh, "Yours ain't all that bad either."

You let him do what he needs to, wiping you of sweat and any fluids that might become uncomfortable after a while. Then he does the same for himself, and the show is rather nice. When he finishes cleaning the both of you up, he crawls into bed and pulls you to his chest.

You take your chance to trace over the scars again, admiring just how pretty his marred skin is. He doesn't say a word, and you have the understanding not to make verbal comments now. The warmth of his chest combined with the pleasant ache in your limbs was enough to lull you to sleep.

The last thing you hear is Lighter mumble a quiet, "I love you." Though you don't respond, you know he knows you feel the same way.

[hookingminor]

4 times you took care of him + 1 time he took care of you - nico hischier

a/n: rewrite of an old fic of mine

cw: brief mentions of blood, stitches, alcohol

word count: 7.4k

summary: nico is the cute neighbor boy across the hall

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1. 

Sunday nights were your nights. After a long week of studying and working crazy hours, you only had one day to yourself where you weren’t running around like a chicken with its head cut off and could take five minutes to finally breathe. 

Sundays were also the only days you actually took the time to make yourself dinner. Most of your days were either spent in class or at the hospital, so you never prepared anything that couldn’t be done in less than ten minutes. Sometimes you were so lazy that you just counted on cafeteria food and granola bars to hold you over before having cereal for dinner and crashing by eleven o’clock.

Tonight’s specialty was your own take on a carbonara with some grilled chicken on the top. It wasn’t anything fancy, but you had been working on a recipe to perfect this for nearly three months now, and you were almost satisfied with the results.

It was in the middle of adding the finishing touches by combining the pasta and the sauce when you heard a knock on your door. Setting the towel on the counter and reducing the stove heat to a low simmer, you made your way to answer the door.

“Oh, hi, Nico,” you said with surprise when you saw your neighbor on the other side. He lived across the hall from you, but you rarely saw him in the building. Still, it wasn’t hard to notice that he was incredibly attractive.

“Hi,” he greeted you. The smells of your dinner wafted over him, and he peeked over your head to catch a glimpse of what you were preparing. 

“I just stopped by to drop this off,” he said, handing you an envelope. “They keep mixing up our mailboxes.”

“Thank you,” you replied as you glanced down at the letter. “I have a few for you as well, hold on just a second.”

You turned away from the door and walked back towards the kitchen to where you kept a stash of his mail. You’d been meaning to drop it off, but your hours at home never coincided with each other. 

Granted, you could have slipped it under his door, but you really just wanted an excuse to talk to the cute neighbor boy. You were just waiting until you worked up the nerve to knock on his door.

Nico took a few steps into your apartment, not wanting to overstep but also not wanting to stand in the hall awkwardly as you rummaged through some papers. As he waited, his eyes wandered back over to the stove where you were cooking some type of pasta. 

His stomach growled lowly as the smell of seasoned chicken and sauces flooded his senses, and he realized he hadn’t eaten anything in nearly five hours.

“Sorry,” he said with a blush. There was no way you hadn’t heard that grumble. “Guess I forgot to eat something after practice.”

“Did you want some?” You asked almost too eagerly. “I mean, I made quite a bit,” you backtracked quickly, “I usually survive the week on leftovers.”

“No, it’s okay,” he chuckled, but Nico wanted nothing more than to shove a forkful of whatever you had made into his mouth. “I’ll probably just order something for delivery.”

“Please, I insist,” you persisted, “I made a lot, and your food won’t be here for, like, another hour at least.” God, you were coming off as desperate, and you mentally slapped yourself for it.

He looked at you hesitantly, obviously not wanting to intrude, but damn if he wasn’t really hungry.

You didn’t wait for his reply before dropping the mail back where it was and crossing the kitchen to the stove. Pulling out an extra plate, you began piling it with pasta and chicken, and Nico figured it was too late to refuse you again.

“Take a seat,” you suggested as you plated a dish for yourself. “You’re not an intrusion, I promise. I don’t get a lot of company anyways.”

“Busy life?” Nico asked. It was then that he realized he really didn’t know much about you despite having run into you multiple times in the hallways.

“You could say that,” you chuckled humorlessly. It was a combination of being both busy and having no friends, but you weren’t about to tell him that. 

“What do you do?” He questioned as he rested his elbows on the table.

“I’m a nursing student, so I spend all my time studying or working at the hospital,” you explained as you brought the plates over to the table. He mumbled a quiet ‘thank you’ when you set his food down in front of him. It looked delicious. Nico’s skills in the kitchen were subpar to say the least; he couldn’t make anything that didn’t come with box instructions or wasn’t baked chicken and vegetables. So having an actual home cooked meal was starting to feel like Christmas.

“Is that why I only ever see you coming home at midnight?” He wondered, picking up a fork to take a bite.

Nico was right, it was delicious. 

“Yeah, hours are a little crazy for me right now, but they should settle down once I graduate,” you replied as you took a bite. It was your best carbonara yet, but it wasn’t quite perfect. “What about you? Why are you always coming home at midnight?”

You’d never talked to him much after that first day when he helped you with a couple boxes as you moved in. Most of your interactions were restricted to passing each other in the halls and the polite conversation about how your day was going and the weather.

“I, uh, play hockey,” he started, “and we get back from road trips really late sometimes.”

“No shit, really?” Your eyes widened in shock, “like you play for the Devils?” You weren’t well versed in sports in general, and even less so in New Jersey sports. However, you did hear chatter around from your classmates and coworkers about various games.

Nico nodded his head in agreement, “Yeah, I’m the captain.” Every revelation about him continued to shock you.

“So I’m dining with New Jersey royalty then, huh?” You teased after a moment. Even though you didn’t know much, you did know the Devils were doing exceptionally well at the moment.

He blushed at your compliment, “I’m not royalty.”

“Your team’s current record says otherwise given the team’s horrendous past ,” you commented, dropping the little bit of knowledge you knew as you overheard your lab partner go on about the Devils’ hot streak.

Nico raised his eyebrows in surprise at your statement.

“I’m not an actual fan, so don’t test me,” you chuckled at his surprise, “My lab partner is always talking about the Devils, and I may have unknowingly processed some of the information.”

“It’s not because of me. The team’s just doing well in general,” he brushed it off casually, but you knew that wasn’t totally the case. The team may be good, but good leadership can be what makes or breaks them.

“So you’re not a big cook then, I presume?” You asked instead, changing the subject to something else. Nico probably talked about hockey enough with other people, you didn’t want to bore him even more.

“You could say that,” he said, repeating your phrase from earlier. “If it’s not something a seven year old could make, it’s not something I could make.” He had barely registered that he’d finished off everything on his plate by now while you were still finishing yours.

“Did you want more?” You asked, noticing his empty plate, but Nico shook his head.

“No, thank you, this was more than enough,” Nico insisted. “I’ve bothered you enough tonight.”

“Really, I don’t mind,” you said, clearing off your plate. “It’s nice to talk to someone who isn’t asking me about upcoming exams or patient reports or asking for more painkillers.”

“It’s nice not talking about hockey, too,” he agreed.

Rising from your seat, you took his plate and yours to the sink as you were both now finished.

“I got this,” Nico said quickly, following you to the sink and lightly hip checking you out the way. “I do know basic manners. You cooked, so I’ll clean.”

You opened your mouth to argue with him, but the look on his face said the conversation was already over, and he grabbed the sponge with one hand. Deciding to leave it alone, you held your hands up in surrender and backed away from the sink. While he was busy, you packed up the leftovers into a plastic container.

“I make dinner every Sunday,” you said after a few minutes of comfortable silence. “So, if you want, you’re always free to join me.” You didn’t look at him when you said this, trying to keep it casual and so he wouldn’t see the way your face was riddled with embarrassment. You were trying to subtly ask him to come over more, and you didn’t want to be faced with his rejection.

You heard the sink shutoff and saw his body turn towards yours out of the corner of your eyes as he leaned against the counter.

“I’d really like that,” he said, “but I do have one condition though.” You looked up and met his gaze with raised brows.

“You have to teach me how to cook,” he continued with an easy grin as he dried off his hands with a towel.

“You’ve got a deal,” you agreed, matching his smile with one of your own.

You sent Nico home that night with the leftover carbonara and his mail despite his protests, but you argued that he couldn’t live off takeout forever and that you could always make more food whereas he could not.

The next Sunday he had showed up around dinner time once again, this time bringing over a plate of cookies that he most definitely bought at the store but tried to play off as baking them himself. He had said if you were going to be doing a majority of the work, the least he could do was bring you something in return.

Every Sunday after that Nico was at your place. On the off chance he was out of town, he always left you a note on your door saying he wouldn’t be making it and notifying you of when he’d see you next. You didn’t need the notes, he didn’t have to tell you whether or not he was coming, but they made your heart flutter every time you came home and saw a blue sticky note waiting for you. 

You taught him a few staple dishes, mainly how to cook pasta and rice and some salads. His capabilities weren’t all that vast, and he wanted to remain in the realm of foods that weren’t too complicated so he couldn’t fuck up.

Making dinner with Nico turned into messing around in the kitchen for a couple hours most of the time. You teased him about his chopping abilities and he teased you every time your small hands dropped something due to your lack of coordination, to which you complained how not everyone could be a professional athlete. 

And every time you two ate at your same spots at the table, sometimes splitting a bottle of wine that Nico would bring over. 

Every once in a while Nico would arrive with a bag of takeout in his hand, declaring that you needed a break from all the cooking. There was no reason to have dinner together since it wasn’t under the guise of teaching him something new, but you still welcomed him nonetheless.

Sundays were no longer your nights, but that was perfectly fine by you as long as you could keep sharing them with Nico.

-

2. 

Nico was getting a little desperate. 

Two months had passed since he started coming over for weekly dinners, and he was making no progress. It’s not like he was really trying, though. If he was being honest, he wasn’t quite sure how to flirt with a woman without the intention of sleeping with her.

Which isn’t to say he didn’t want to sleep with you because he definitely did, it just wasn’t all that he wanted.

He hoped he conveyed interest on his part, but he wasn’t positive you were picking up on his hints. Or maybe you just weren’t into him.

So, he decided to take it one step further. He bought some plants.

Nico knew next to nothing about plants other than that they needed water, but he’d noticed you kept a few in your apartment near your large window.

Once again, he found himself knocking on your door, but this time you weren’t expecting it.

“Hey, what’s up?” You asked him when you opened the door. It wasn’t like him to show up to your place out of the blue.

“I wanted to ask you a favor,” he replied, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’ve got a week long roadie and was wondering if, maybe, you’d look after my plants?”

“Oh yeah, definitely, I can do that,” you said with a smile.

“Do you have a minute right now? I can show them to you really quick,” he asked, gesturing with his arm to his door. You nodded your head in agreement, and Nico took a few steps backward to let you into his apartment.

You followed him through the entrance and paused briefly. His apartment layout was the exact same as yours only flipped. He walked until he hit the same balcony window where you kept your plants, and you saw he had about four small pots along with a large pot that sat in the corner.

“This is the gang,” he introduced, spreading his arms to show them off.

“This is so cute,” you chuckled, stepping closer to get a better look at the plants. You noticed one of them was also one you had.

“I’m going to be honest,” he started. “I only recently bought them, so I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

“Well, they seem to be still living, so you haven’t done anything too bad,” you teased lightly.

“Oh, let me get the spare key for you,” he said suddenly before he turned and left you alone to fetch the key.

Nico returned less than a minute later, small black key fob in his hand. You opened your hand for him to place it in your palm.

“When will you be back?” You asked, stretching back up from your squatted position.

“Next Wednesday,” he clarified, “and I leave tomorrow.” You nodded.

There wasn’t much more to say, so you told him a brief ‘good luck’ on his roadie before leaving. Returning to your own, you made a mental note to check in on his plants tomorrow.

The following afternoon, you let yourself into Nico’s apartment with the key he’d given you. You read the sticky note he left for you on the counter, the words reading ‘in case of an emergency’ along with his phone number.

You rolled your eyes at the note, laughing lightly at his phrasing of ‘in case of an emergency.’ You hardly thought watering plants would cause a catastrophic event, but the gesture was cute.

Filling up a few cups of water, you made your way over to his plants and distributed the water throughout until you’d gone over all of them. Before you could think better of it, you snapped a picture of the plants in the window before opening a text thread to Nico.

You: First day all done! :)

He didn’t reply for a few hours, but that was okay because you hadn’t expected him to reply at all.

Nico: They’re looking better already!

Ever since that first day, you began exchanging messages. His replies were sporadic, but you didn’t mind; he was a busy guy. Still, he managed to text you whenever he could, and your conversations quickly turned away from his plants to other subjects. 

You recommended some new shows for him to watch while he was on road trips, and he told you where his favorite takeout restaurants were when you felt too lazy to cook. 

Honestly, Sundays didn’t feel the same without him, but you didn’t tell him you stopped cooking when he didn’t show up.

Even when Nico was back in town, you found yourself texting him frequently in your classes and also on your breaks, and Nico found himself waking up every morning looking forward to whatever message you’d sent after he’d fallen asleep.

-

3. 

The incessant pounding at your door woke you up from your sleep. You knew who it was immediately as there was only one person who visited you, and you were ready to yell at him after you answered the door. 

Throwing on a sweatshirt, you stomped your way to the door and shouted out, “I’m coming!” so Nico could take the hint to shut the hell up.

“Oh my god, Nico,” you groaned as you threw open the door, “It’s two in the fucking morning.” But it wasn’t Nico you were greeted with.

Or rather, he wasn’t the only one outside the door.

“Uh, hi,” a man said as Nico leaned against him, very obviously drunk.

“Hi?” You asked, your eyes flicking over to the drunken Nico.

“I think he lost his key,” the stranger said, “and then he was knocking on your door before I could take him back to my place.”

“Of course,” you sighed. “You love bothering me, don’t you, Nico?”

“Y/N,” he slurred your name when he heard your voice. “I told you she was beautiful, Hughes.” He clearly meant to whisper the last part into his friend’s ear, but his impaired state changed his whisper into a quiet shout.

“Alright, buddy, let’s keep it down,” his friend said with a chuckle as he tried to spare him from saying something else embarrassing.

“Do you still have my key? I forgot mine,” Nico asked instead, lifting his eyes to yours.

“I left it in your apartment last time I watered the plants,” you answered and Nico let out an annoyed groan.

“It’s fine, he can stay here tonight,” you said, addressing his friend this time.

“You sure? I don’t want to bother you,” his friend insisted. “I can just bring him back to my place.”

“Don’t worry about it, you already dragged him all the way here. I can handle it,” you said and opened the door further.

His friend lugged him into your apartment and led Nico to the couch, plopping him down on the cushions.

“Thanks for doing this. I’m sorry for waking you,” he apologized once Nico was settled.

“No problem, I’m used to him interrupting my nights,” you chuckled lightly, though it sounded more sexual than you intended for it to.

“Yeah, well,” the stranger said with an awkward laugh, “I’ll get out of your hair then.” And then he turned to leave. “Hischier! Text me in the morning!” He called out one last time and Nico grumbled his acknowledgement. Then his friend was gone, leaving you alone with a drunken twenty-something year old.

“Alright, Nico, let’s get you ready for bed,” you mumbled, more to yourself than to him. He was splayed out on his back on your couch, head lolled against a decorative pillow. If it weren’t for his indecipherable sounds, you would’ve thought he was asleep.

You left him alone for a minute as you retreated back to your room to grab a couple extra blankets and a pillow that wouldn’t end up hurting his neck.

When you returned, Nico was now on his stomach with one arm dangled off the couch.

“Feeling okay, bud?” You asked gently, brushing back a few strands of his hair to check if he was still awake. He hummed a quiet ‘yeah’ and you lifted his head to replace the throw pillow with a fluffier one from your bed.

You draped one large blanket over his body and then set another smaller one on top of that. Nico sighed in content and you made a quick trip to the kitchen to retrieve a couple Advil pills and a glass of water.

“Can you drink this before you fall asleep?” You asked when you got back to the living room. 

Despite his intoxication, Nico managed to sit up just enough to swallow the pills down with a drink of water before flopping his head back down. You set the half-full glass on the coffee table and leaned over to turn off the lamp.

“You good to sleep?” You questioned, and Nico nodded his head to the best of his ability.

“I’ll be in my room if you need anything,” you said finally, making your way back to the hallway.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he said quietly before you were out of hearing range, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Nico,” you murmured with a small smile.

-

4.

“How the hell did this even happen? Sticks are supposed to remain on the ice, you know,” you wondered with curiosity. 

Nico knocked on your door at nearly midnight, hair still damp from his shower and still in his Devils sweats. If it weren’t for the fact that you were awake and watching a movie, you wouldn’t have noticed the knocking. 

When you opened the door, you were met with split stitches and tired eyes. Ushering him into your apartment, you led him to the bathroom where you kept the first-aid. 

Nico pushed himself up so he could sit on your counter and gave you a sheepish smile.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, “They stitched me up after the game, but they came out.”

“So, why didn’t you contact your trainers or something?” You inquired, opening your kit and grabbing the alcohol.

“Because I have a perfectly good nurse here at home to stitch me back up,” he answered with an easy grin. You gave him an incredulous look.

“It seems like I’m constantly getting the short end of the stick in this relationship,” you said as you stepped between his legs to inspect his face. It wasn’t anything serious, just a few stitches that broke. In all honesty, he probably could’ve survived the night without fixing it, but you weren’t going to turn down an opportunity to be this close to him.

“Close your eyes,” you ordered before he could say anything back. Nico followed your instruction obediently, fluttering his eyes shut as if he had all the time in the world.

Using a small pair of scissors, you snipped at the remaining stitches. You took the tweezers next and gently pulled at the broken strands, slowly removing them from his cheek. Nico’s eyes twitched slightly at the discomfort, but he said nothing as you reopened his wound.

“You’re really good at this,” he stated, and you noticed that he had opened one eye to watch you. You blushed at his compliment, your cheeks heating at the warm feeling you got when you looked into his eyes.

Averting his gaze, you muttered a quiet ‘thank you’ before opening an alcohol pad.

“You’re going to want to really close your eyes for this, it might burn,” you recommended. The cut was along his cheekbone, stretching about three inches and oozing just a little bit of blood.

You cleaned along the cut lightly, one of your hands cupping his cheek while the other managed the wipe. After throwing the bloodied pad off to the side, you brought out the small bottle of lidocaine you had stashed away underneath all your bandaids. You squeezed a bit onto a cotton swab and dabbed the area around the cut. The lidocaine took a few minutes to kick in, so you busied yourself by preparing the thread and sanitizing the needle.

“I want you to know that I’m not actually a certified nurse yet. I’m still in training,” you explained. “So, if this hurts it’s your fault.”

“I trust you,” he said simply with a smirk.

“I would hope so,” you scoffed, “You’re letting a nursing student with a needle stitch near the eye of the New Jersey Devils Captain.”

“Besides, if you fuck up, I’ll just blame it on you when we lose after I can’t play because I’ve been blinded,” he teased.

“Don’t even joke about that, Nico. All of New Jersey would burn me alive,” you said, slugging his arm in response.

Was he about to let a beautiful, uncertified girl stitch him back together just because he wanted an excuse to spend more time with her? Absolutely.

He gave you a light chuckle as he leaned back on his hands, the fabric of his t-shirt stretching deliciously over his broad chest. It took everything in you to not linger your eyes over his arms and how large they looked right now.

“Is it numb yet?” You asked instead, refocusing your attention on threading the needle.

“Yeah, I think so,” he replied, bringing a couple fingers to poke at his cheek, but you swatted his hand away before he could do more damage.

Taking the same position as before, you stood between his legs again and angled his head slightly to the side so you could examine it under better light.

“Just let me know if it hurts, okay?” You insisted, holding the needle between your tweezers. You waited for Nico’s nod of agreement before starting.

You punctured the skin with the point and crossed the wound before poking through the other side. Nico’s hands instinctively reached out to grasp at your hips as he breathed in a sharp breath of air. 

“Oh my god, is it not numb?” You panicked, pausing all your movements as you gauged his face for any signs of pain.

“It stung a little bit,” he replied, but the tightened grip on your waist said otherwise. “I was just a little shocked, is all.” He added that last part when he saw the worry spread across your face as your eyes widened in fear of hurting him. “Keep going, I’m fine.”

You gave him a hesitant look, not wanting to continue if it was going to cause him pain. This time when he squeezed your sides, it was to reassure you and encourage you to continue. 

Nico kept his hands where they were, sliding his thumbs just underneath the hem of your shirt to trace soft circles into your skin. Recommencing your movements, you repeated the same crisscrossing threads over his cut, trying to work as quickly as possible.

When you’d finished, you knotted off the ends, clipped the remaining thread, and applied a salve over the sealed wound.

“There you go,” you said as you finished touching him up.

“And my kiss to make it feel better?” He asked with a smirk. You rolled your eyes at his presumptuousness but leaned in to press a light kiss near his stitches.

“Can I trust you to not pull them out again?” You retorted, stepping out of his grip to clean up your supplies.

“I don’t know…” he trailed off as in deep contemplation, “I might need you to spend the night and keep an eye on me.”

“Nice try, bud,” you chuckled, “but it’s not going to happen.” He pouted. 

“And if you do tear them again, I’m not restitching it.”

You finished packing away your materials and walked Nico back to your front door.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he said when you opened the door. 

“Anytime,” you replied, “Goodnight, Nico.”

Leaning forward, he pressed a quick kiss to your cheek in appreciation before crossing the few feet to his door. You hoped he couldn’t see the way your eyes widened in shock, but if he did see, he didn’t say anything about it.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

-

+ 1 

For the first time since you’ve met Nico, it was finally your turn to cancel on dinner. You really didn’t want to, as the dinners with him were the highlight of your week, but you knew if you broke concentration for even a minute to entertain him, your mind would be thinking about him even after he left. And you were not going to pass the NCLEX if Nico was invading all of your thoughts. You’d been studying for this exam for months, but now it was a week out and it was crunch time.

You: Gotta cancel on dinner Sunday, sorry :(

Nico: Going out of town? Got a hot date?

You: The only dates I’ll be having for the next week is between me and my millions of notes for my board exam 

Nico: Stressed out?

You: You wouldn’t even believe, so if I’m MIA for a few days, don’t worry 

Nico: Are we still on for next Sunday?

You: Yes. We will either be celebrating or commiserating, so get your wine ready

Nico: I’ll bring over the best since we’ll be celebrating :)

You didn’t know how to reply, so you reacted to his message with a thumbs up before leaving him on read.

-

For the next few days, you studied your ass off. Sunday came, but when six o’clock rolled around, you couldn’t help your thoughts from straying from your studies and over to what you would be doing with Nico if it weren’t for this stupid exam.

And as if he had read your mind, your phone dinged with a new text message.

Nico: Open your door

Your brows furrowed in confusion as you read the text, and you were just about to tell him off for disturbing you after you already told him you didn’t have the time.

However, that wasn’t the case because when you opened your door, Nico was nowhere to be found although a paper bag rested on the ground in front of you. 

Cautiously, you picked up the bag and brought it inside, immediately smelling the tzatziki sauce from your favorite Greek restaurant.

You: What’s this?

You texted him, along with a picture of the bag.

Nico: Even if we aren’t making dinner, you should still eat, and I figured gyros were better than cereal 

He was right. You had planned on pouring yourself a bowl of cereal when the hunger became too much and forced you to take a break. And gyros definitely were better than Frosted Flakes.

You: You’re a lifesaver, truly. Thank you!

Nico opened the message and didn’t reply, even though he really wanted to, but he knew you had studying to do and the last thing he wanted was to distract you.

-

After pulling an all-nighter, Sunday slowly turned into Monday, and you had finally decided to go to bed at nine on Monday morning. The few hours of sleep you got were welcomed, but rest did little to calm yourself down. The exam was on Friday, and you still had four years worth of material to remember. 

So, you dragged yourself out of bed around three in the afternoon and plopped yourself on the ground in front of your couch where all your notes were still spread on the floor.

You’d gotten through about four chapters in your review book before you heard a knock at the door. 

Pushing yourself up by your hands, you crossed the length of the apartment to the door. If it was Nico, he was about to be really turned off by how messy you looked.

And once again, it wasn’t him. 

Just like yesterday, something awaited you in front of your door. This time, it was a four cup drink tray filled with different coffees. 

Picking them up off the ground, you walked it back into your home and set it on your kitchen counter. There was a blue sticky note attached to the top in true Nico style, and you were smiling at the familiar handwriting before you even read what it said.

Thought you could use a pick-me-up :)

PS: I didn’t know what you liked, but you’re NOT allowed to drink these all at once

You chuckled at the last sentence. Of course he would send you four different orders because he didn’t know what you wanted. In all honesty, you could survive on just plain black coffee with nothing added if needed, but the fact that he sent you options had your heart swelling. 

You scanned through each cup, reading the labels on each one as they ranged from a standard black coffee to a sweet caramel latte, all of them iced (you had mentioned once that you only drank iced coffee, even in the middle of the winter). It didn’t slip your mind that this was from that expensive shop a few blocks down, the one you could only allow yourself to go to once a month because you knew it would drain you quickly.

Deciding to tease Nico a little bit, you stuck a straw in every single lid. You connected all four straws in the middle and closed your lips over them and took a drink. The resulting taste wasn’t fantastic, but it was worth the funny selfie you took drinking them that you sent to Nico.

You: What was it that I wasn’t allowed to do? Your note wasn’t clear 

Nico: I’m never sending you coffee again

-

On Tuesday, Nico sent you a bouquet of sunflowers. They were massive and bright and you couldn’t see over them as you placed them on the table.

Hope these sunflowers brighten up your day

-

On Wednesday, Nico got back from his short roadie. Maybe it was the constant studying, or maybe it was the little gifts Nico sent you, but your stress levels seemed to calm down as the week went on. There was still the pressure to do well, but every time Nico sent something to you, it was as if everything became a little bit more manageable.

You invited him over to hang out for a little bit, just to thank him for the things he’d done for you. You expected him to stay for a few minutes, maybe a half hour at the most, and then you’d send him home with some cookies you’d baked for him. Instead, he grabbed the plate of cookies and made himself comfortable on your couch.

“You just made these?” He asked with a mouthful of cookie as he picked up a stack of flashcards. You nodded as you took a seat on the opposite side of the couch.

“What’s the therapeutic drug level for theo… theoph…” he began to say, but trailed off, “Never mind. I was trying to help, but I can’t pronounce any of these words.” He ended the sentence with a chuckle before flicking the flashcard over to you.

“The word is theophylline,” you laughed, “and the answer is 10-20 micrograms per deciliter.”

“I understand none of those words, so that probably means it’s right,” he said as he finished his second cookie.

“If you want to help me I know something you can do,” you said eagerly, “And you don’t even have to speak, just sit there and look pretty.”

“That I can do,” he agreed with a nod and sat up to place the cookies on the coffee table. “Where do you want me?”

“Right there is fine. I’m just going to do a standard routine checkup like you’d get at the doctor’s,” you explained, grabbing your small bag of medical tools.

You ran through your procedure, checking your notes periodically to make sure you asked all the questions. Nico had no problem being your puppet, even answering some questions with ridiculous answers.

“And are you sexually active?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He asked with an eyebrow wiggle. You gave him an unamused glare.

“It’s part of the questions, dumbass,” you rolled your eyes and Nico laughed. “Never mind, I already know the answer anyway.”

“That was one time!” He groaned as he flopped his head back against the cushion. You were obviously referring to the one time you had a run in with one of his hookups. “I haven’t had anyone here since then.”

“Thank god for that,” you muttered, “but she did seem like a nice girl.”

Nico gave you a disbelieving look. You’d ran into them as you were returning from an overnight shift at nearly seven in the morning as Nico was trying to get rid of her, but she was hoping to get another date out of him before she left.

It was an awkward interaction to say the least, and Nico immediately called over to you to get your attention. The girl was displeased because you were interrupting their conversation and also because Nico had used you as an excuse to get out of scheduling another date.

“Oh, Y/N, you still needed me to fix that thing for you, right?” He had asked when he saw you walking down the hall. It took you all of two seconds to process the situation and Nico’s panicked and pleading eyes before you were agreeing. You even threw in the fact that it was urgent and that he needed to help right now, to which the girl gave you an eye roll.

Needless to say, Nico thanked you profusely for saving his ass and never called the girl again. That was over three months ago, and you had yet to see another girl leave his apartment.

“Well, I think I’m done with all the questions,” you concluded finally. “I think it’s safe to say you are in impeccable shape, Mr. Hischier.”

“Is this your subtle way of kicking me out?” He asked.

“Technically, I never invited you to stay. You kind of just sat here and made yourself at home,” you replied.

“I’m sorry for wanting to catch up with my friend after not seeing her in a week,” he joked.

“And you’re going to have to wait another few days for that, bud,” you chuckled.

“Fine, fine,” he conceded, “I’ll go, but I’m taking the cookies.”

“They were yours to begin with, idiot.”

-

On Thursday, you received one final package. It was a wrapped box, obviously done by someone who’s never wrapped a gift in their life. 

Opening it, there was Nico’s same scrawl on the familiar blue sticky note.

Something to look forward to after you ace this exam tomorrow!

Underneath the note was a ticket to a Devils game on Sunday against Vancouver, but it wasn’t the only thing in the box. You pulled out a red sweatshirt with the New Jersey Devils logo on the front. There was nothing on the back, but the number ‘13’ could be seen on both sleeves.

The thought of Nico sending you something with his number on it had your cheeks heating instantly. He’d been teasing you about coming to a game, and it seemed you finally had a reason to go now.

-

After you took your exam, it was like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Your school days were behind you now, and you could now start your career. The exam results still took six weeks, but you were feeling pretty confident in yourself.

Nico had texted you instructions to wait for him after the game on Sunday. He wanted you to try and meet him somewhere, but your navigation skills were terrible and you were sure to get lost in an arena you’d never been in.

So, you met him outside his car in the parking lot where the team parked.

“There he is,” you called out, clapping, when you saw him exit the arena, “First star of the night with two goals, Captain Nico Hischier!” You gave him your best announcer voice.

“Shut up,” he replied with a chuckle, but his face was beaming with a wide smile.

“Good game tonight,” you said with a smile of your own. “Trying to impress someone?”

By this time, Nico had reached the car, and he was dropping his bag on the ground before wrapping his arms around you and lifting you off the ground in a hug.

“I’m always trying to impress you,” he mumbled against your hair before he set you back down.

“Well, consider me impressed,” you gushed. 

“I was thinking...” Nico said after a moment.

“Uh oh,” you interjected with a worried look.

“Don’t be a dork,” he chuckled. “I was thinking that instead of going back home and making dinner I can take you out tonight instead.”

“Celebratory dinner for your win?” You questioned.

“And for your exam,” he added, “And also maybe as a date?” Nico said the last part quietly and quickly averted your gaze.

“Are you asking me on a date, Nico?” You asked for clarification, but the smile on your face was spreading wider as the seconds passed.

“Yes, I am,” he said with a deep swallow.

You squinted your eyes, as if in deep contemplation.

“Well, I’ve only been waiting, like, months for you to ask me,” you teased. “I’d love to go on a date with you.”

“Really?” He asked, eyes bright as he reached out to pull you closer to his body. You hummed in agreement and connected your hands behind his neck.

“I was starting to think you’d never get the hint,” you said quietly.

“I was just waiting for the right time,” he insisted, hands resting on your hips, “And if I’m being honest, I really want to kiss you right now.”

You didn’t answer him in words. Instead, you pushed up on your tip-toes and leaned in to connect your lips to his. The kiss was soft, neither of you wanting to push too far too fast. He moved his lips against yours gently, taking his time to convey how he felt about you.

When you finally pulled back to catch your breath, you both had stupid looks on your face as you were both giddy with joy.

“Atta boy, Cap!” A loud voice shouted across the lot along with some hoots, and you let your head fall against Nico’s chest as you chuckled to yourself.

“Fuck off, Jack!” Nico yelled back before dipping his head down to kiss the top of yours. “Ignore him, he’s annoying. Let’s get out of here before they try and come over.”

“Lead the way,” you said, breaking apart so you could climb in his car. 

-

Six weeks later, your results came in.

You let yourself into Nico’s unlocked apartment. Ever since you started dating, it just seemed a lot easier to leave your apartments unlocked during the day so you could easily bounce between places.

“Nico, it’s here!” You exclaimed, spotting him on the couch. He looked up from whatever show he was watching and paused it immediately when he saw the envelope in your hands.

You basically sprinted across the room and plopped down onto his lap before shoving it into his hands.

“You open it, I can’t do it,” you murmured against the side of his head, your arms slinging over his shoulders as one of his arms wrapped around your waist.

Nico chuckled as he ripped open the paper and pulled out the letter.

“What does it say?” You asked, your head tucked into his neck so you couldn’t read the results.

“Babe…” he said softly, “I’m sorry.”

“What?” You asked worriedly, peeling yourself from his neck to read the letter yourself.

Congratulations! You have passed the NCLEX exam!

You didn’t even bother to read the rest of the letter once you’d read those first two sentences.

“You asshole, that wasn’t funny!” You said, pushing his head away from you as he laughed.

“I thought it was kind of funny,” he replied, “And now my girlfriend is officially a sexy nurse.” Nico pressed a quick kiss to your cheek.

“You better get that idea out of your head right now,” you said warningly, already knowing where his thoughts were headed.

“All jokes aside, I’m proud of you, baby,” he said happily.

“I probably would’ve combusted from stress had it not been for your little gifts,” you admitted.

“What can I say? I was so whipped for you,” he said.

“You really were, weren’t you? The flowers and the sweatshirt with your number on it…” you teased, and he poked your side in retaliation.

“Kidding,” you giggled happily, “and I’m whipped for you, too, Nico.”

[johnbrand]

This or That

“Wait, what did you say this game was called again?” Christopher asked.

“‘This or That’!” Felix replied, obviously excited. All day he had waited to try out this new personality-quiz app, having received a plethora of positive reviews from friends, coworkers, and online. As soon as his shift was up, he rushed back to the small apartment he shared with his loving boyfriend. The smoother, slimmer Christopher was surprised by his partner’s sudden enjoyment and fascination as the app finished its download.

“How does it work?”

“It’s simple,” Felix, more of a twunk vers than an actual top, replied. “Apparently the game offers you different options, red or blue, this or that. You keep filtering down before it lands on a hyper-specific personality type.”

Christopher shrugged, “Sounds simple enough, but why is it so popular?”

“It’s supposed to be like freaky accurate.” Felix opened the app and entered CHRISTOPHER into the flashing box. “I’ve been hearing about it all day, but I wanted to try it with you.”

Christopher blushed at that, watching as the first prompt came in. The app wished to know who was filling out the survey: “This” was the person themselves, “That” was another person. Felix pushed “That”.

“So you’re filling it out for me?” Christopher asked, a little bummed.

“And you’ll do mine,” Felix assured, moving past the next prompt. The first few waves were the simple ones: male or female, old or young, rich or comfortable. Christopher laid back into the couch they were both seated on, grabbing a remote and searching for a “The Real Housewives…” title. On Felix’s end, he eventually landed on a question regarding sexuality.

THIS: Heterosexuality or THAT: Homosexuality

Felix’s finger tapped “That”, but unlike before the next prompt did not appear. For some reason, the "That" option did not respond and proceed forward. He tapped it again, and again, and kept doing so until Christopher noticed.

“I think my screen may have frozen?” Felix explained. To check, he tapped the “This” option. His face skewed slightly as it accepted, moving forward.

“Is it working again, dude?” Chris asked, not looking up from his phone.

“Uh…yeah,” Felix gulped, hoping the error would not severely impact the results. He was already a good amount in, and he did not want to make his roommate wait. Felix reviewed the next prompt.

THIS: Alpha or THAT: Beta

Felix knew the answer, but something told him to go with the other option. He had already messed up, so maybe it would be funny to purposely skew further. Thinking it could be a good laugh, Felix considered manipulating the quiz to manufacture the opposite. Cautiously, he pressed the “This” option, moving on.

“God, these hags are annoying…” Chris mumbled, his voice a little deeper than usual as he switched channels to something more interesting. The loud rowdiness of a football game’s broadcast quickly filled the room, but all Felix could focus on was his phone. To his surprise, after the last tap, the app had begun to filter through its own prompts on its own. Felix’s eyes tried to follow as the screen flashed with new questions and answered them accordingly.

THIS: Masculine-Leaning or THAT: Feminine-Leaning

THIS: Monoracial or THAT: Multiracial

THIS: Strong or THAT: Meek

THIS: Arrogant or THAT: Reserved

THIS: Excitable or THAT: Laid-Back

THIS: Selfless or THAT: Authoritative

THIS: Traditional or THAT: Progressive

Each of the answers clicked by without Felix being able to alter a thing. He could not even exit the app. Desperate, Felix stood up and moved towards the kitchen, hoping to grab his laptop in order to look up some kind of solution. But before he made it, the app suddenly stopped, presenting Felix with the results.

“With 100% accuracy, This or That reports that CRISTOBAL is: AVERAGE STRAIGHT MALE.”

Felix stood stunned, taking a breath and slowly reentering reality. Still on the couch and now manspreading as much as possible, Chris’s focus appeared to be solely on the cheerleaders performing their half-time show. Felix’s own focus soon shifted to be solely on his straight roommate’s cock, the massive schlong becoming chubby thanks to the tit-tastic routine on the television.

“Bro? Come on!” Chris’s rich, masculine voice snapped Felix out of his lustful gaze. “I hate it when you do that gay stuff, it’s annoying.”

“Oh…uh sorry…” Something felt wrong, like Felix was forgetting something.

“You can be a fag or whatever, it doesn’t matter to me,” Chris’s slight cringe said otherwise. “But you can’t just perv on my goods man.”

Felix nodded quickly, blushing furiously.

“By the way, you’ll need to stay in your room again tonight. Finally convinced this chick from stats to come over and ‘study’. She doesn’t know the only thing she’ll be studying is all 8 inches of my man meat.”

His straight roommate smirked cockily at his own joke, adjusting himself proudly. Felix tried his best not to sneak a look and obediently exited to his room. As soon as his door was shut, Felix gave his throbbing cock a tug, hoping Chris’s study partner would be arriving soon.

[pseudowho]

Grey

You live a vigilante life, taking down Curses and Curse Users on commission. When finances force you to take a job from Jujutsu High, you find yourself stumbling into Nanami Kento's lap, where he has a proposition for you instead.

ThatHigurumaBathScene! But with Nanami Kento. Post Shibuya AU.

Warnings: AU!MorallyGrey Nanami Kento, Hot/ColdDom Nanami Kento, 18+, deep throat and other goodies, you know what you're here for.

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I hate to say I'm beginning to see My own reflection in my adversaries [...]

What's the price of a soul? What's its worth versus gold? I tried to beg for mine But it was already sold

Does nobody think twice? What does your hell look like? Does everyone have their price? Where they finally break

-- Sylosis, A Sign of Things to Come

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"So what can you tell me about this...Rogue sorcerer, that will make him easier to find?"

The backstreet diner was dimly lit, with a sickly orange light flickering above the window outside. Sounds and smells of greasy cooking seeped into your ears and clothes.

You swirled a spoon in your mug, already pissed off with the Jujutsu High representative, who seemed to find new ways to be spectacularly unhelpful with every answer he gave.

"He uses...a blunt blade of sorts. Wrapped in white cloth. He usually wears a suit. A tall man, I hear."

"Tall and in a suit. Right. That narrows it down. Thanks a lot."

The representative bristled. "You come highly recommended, despite being...unconventional," he sneered at you,  "The sorcerer in question has been tracked to somewhere in this vicinity." A marked map, along with a slim folder, was tossed across the table to you. The representative stood, brushing imaginary crumbs off his suit. "You know your task. Convince him to come back and work for Jujutsu High again, or eliminate him. He's too unpredictable. He threatens the fabric of sorcerer society."

You were silent, appraising the folder's contents. "Threatens the fabric of sorcerer society," you scoffed. They said the same about you. Any sorcerer acting independently of the higher-ups' control, whether a danger to good people or not, was seen as a danger, a rogue element. You would make your own assessment of the man, if you found him.

For now, it was late, the sun long gone down. You had insisted upon all expenses paid, alongside a generous wage, and were surprised when your price was agreed upon immediately. As such, a very exclusive hotel had a room reserved for you, for as long as you needed it. It was of no real comfort to your sinking loneliness, but a warm bed came second to a warm companion, when living on the move never guaranteed a good night's sleep. Picking up the folder and your bags, you headed to your hotel, to begin your hunt for the nameless rogue sorcerer first thing in the morning.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

The hotel had a beautiful restaurant, you considered, sipping your wine with quiet hums of approval. Leaning forwards, your chin on your arched fingers, you pondered over dessert. As you perused the menu, you barely glanced at the tall figure pressing briefly against your side on his way past your table.

"Excuse me," murmured a low, smooth voice. A spiced, warm cologne filled your senses as you turned briefly, watching a tall blond figure walk away from you. You thought nothing more of it.

After dinner, on your way up the hotel room's corridors, you felt through all of your pockets, certain you had picked up your key card, but hopelessly unable to find it.

By the time you reached room number seventy-three, you were forced to accept you had lost it. Yet, you were about to turn on your heels and head back to Reception when you noticed the door, already slightly open. Sensing a trap, and holding little but disdain for traps, you walked in with confidence, closing the door behind you, locking it.

Scanning the room, you called out; "I'm not that easily spooked. I'm not trapped in here with you. You're trapped in here with me."

You heard a low, sultry chuckle from the bathroom, the gentle swish of water sounding as something shifted in it. You may have been forced to eat your words, when a rush of Cursed energy that was so powerful, so heavy, hit you, a sandstorm on a desert. You had a sinking realisation that your rogue sorcerer may have hunted you down, before you'd hunted him.

"Are you going to come in?" the smooth voice called from the bathroom, as you forced yourself to take a breath. "I don't bite." Shaking yourself off, you pressed your body flat to the wall, concealed, as you pulled open the bathroom door. A few moments passed, and nothing happened. You heard the man, humming a song to himself. Slow swishes of water.

Glancing in, your tummy twisted as you took in the sight before you. Lying spread-eagled in the full bathtub, fully-clothed, was a man as well-grown and vast as his Cursed energy. Long legs, clad in an expensive black suit, and thick thighs pressed over the lip of the tub, wet clothes clinging to every peak and mountain of the man's body, leaving little to the imagination. In his hands, a small pair of dark glasses. His face, as of yet, not visible, but his left hand and his neck were covered in thick, red burn scars.

"Somebody's been using my bath," you offered, more nervous than you sounded. Heat pooled in your belly as the man chuckled again.

"Does that make me Goldilocks?" he asked, "I always thought I was more of a Daddy Bear." He lifted his head, looking at you now, and you blushed. Outstandingly handsome, even with deep scarring, you groaned inwardly to yourself, why are the problematic ones always so handsome?

"I've heard a lot about you," the blond man mused, swirling the water with his fingertips, his visible slim brown eye burning up and down your body, and you felt so completely seen, feeling his gaze burn even through his eye patch.

Outwardly cool, you smiled slightly at him, eyes narrowing; "Then you probably already know what I'm here for." The man sighed, in equal measures amused and exasperated.

"Jujutsu High have been after me returning to their sloppy little books for years. What did they think sending you after me would do?" He polished his glasses, before looking to you sternly, "Unless they've recruited you, hmm? Is that it? Are you a honey-trap?" You scoffed, your blush only deepening, much to the blond man's amusement. Swiftly and to your alarm, the man began to climb out of the bath, water cascading off him. Your stomach clenched again, desire coiling within. This man is an Adonis.

He raised his hand to you as you flinched, reaching for your weapons; "Calm down. I have no interest in hurting you." The man straightened, dropping his suit-jacket to the floor with a wet slap. "Those pieces of shit at Jujutsu High, however..." He approached you slowly now, looming over you, disgust in his eyes, "...who have no regard for your wellbeing, or any of their own sorcerers and students for that matter, would happily send you to try to threaten me back, even when they know it would be a fight you could never win."

He pressed against the wall above your head with his forearm now, leaning down to your ear and whispering.

"What was it you said, Little Bear? I'm not trapped in here with you; you're trapped in here with me." Your heart thumped behind your breasts, but you raised your head to meet his eye, one hand on his chest to prevent him getting any closer. He grasped your hand, pressing it to him, "The name's Nanami Kento. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Shit shit shit. "Nanami Kento? The Nanami Kento?" you cried, "They sent me after you? You're not even--" you faltered, and Kento smirked as you caught on.

"Not even, strictly speaking, a Curse User, no," he finished for you, "Just not at their beck and call. I hunt what I want, when I want. Freelance, if you will. Just like you, Little Bear. So tell me, are you in such dire straits, a talent such as yourself, that you needed to accept me as a job?"

You huffed, head turning to the side, and Kento traced his eyes down your breasts, hardening inside his wet trousers.

"You don't only kill Curses, Nanami," you deferred, "you're a man-killer too. Your kill count is impressive to say the least."

Kento eyed you shrewdly, voice low and slow, "Would you call them men? Rapists, abusers, murderers...there are all sorts of monsters in this world." You gulped. You didn't disagree with him. It was becoming rapidly apparent that you could not complete this job. Despite his assurances that he would not hurt you, his huge frame blocking your exit, the way he had stolen your key card at the restaurant to intercept you, and the threat you posed to his vigilantism, spoke differently.

"You could always come with me," Kento purred, "we're kindred spirits already.  And a bit of company might be a pleasant change. I'll pay you whatever they promised." His soft assurances were warm and honeyed against your ear, and you felt acutely how lonely you were.

"I don't need your money," you spat, pushing him away now, furious with yourself for even considering his offer. Kento stepped reluctantly away from you, a prize which he had every reason to allow himself to be caught by. You, the stories of whose exploits Kento had drank up, coming to hunt him down? He was flattered and thrilled when his informant at Jujutsu High warned him.

"Imagine what a team we could be," Kento growled, pacing in front of you, incensed that you couldn't see how simple and beautiful the solution could be.

In truth, you saw it. You saw yourself working with this man on your shared aims. You saw yourself ridding the world of Curses and monsters without agenda, but with him. It was with a sinking feeling that you knew if you chose to go with Nanami, the brittle mutual understanding you had with Jujutsu High to leave you alone as long as you offered them occasional services, would be lost. You risked becoming an enemy, a rogue element like him.

"It's not what I came here for," you responded stiffly, Kento wide-eyed with fury at your rejection, scarred skin strained against his eye patch. You straightened, putting a brave face on your fragile resolve as you turned your back on him, grabbing the door handle. "I won't be coming with you. I'll tell Jujutsu High exactly what you think of their offer. It won't be me who bothers you anymore."

As you moved to leave, you felt strong, corded arms move around you to hold the door closed, one wrapping tightly around your waist. Your heart nearly leapt out of your mouth.

"Stay," Kento urged, pulling you back to him.

"I thought you killed rapists," you spat at him. His arms stiffened around you.

"Please, don't compare me to scum. I don't need to rape you to get you into bed with me." Despite yourself, your pulse throbbed in your ears, and between your legs. "You're lonely. I'm lonely. We have shared goals. We could defy their system together." His mouth ghosted against your neck and he was delighted to feel you shiver against his tongue.

Feeling bolder, Kento laid his hand over the back of yours, grasping, and pressing them flat together against the wall. As he leant you forwards, his teeth sank into the back of your neck, and the wetness from his suit seeped through your clothes. He was so close, you couldn't tell where you began and he ended. The urge to give in was dizzying, images of chasing a different life with this man rushing through you a mile a minute, and you felt him pause for a moment, shivering against you.

"Cold," he murmured on your neck. "Have you ever taken a bath in your clothes?" You couldn't answer him, too overwhelmed by the press of his cock, insistently rigid, against your back. He kissed your neck again, hard. "Just to feel something." His fingers, cool and rough, slipped underneath the bottom of your shirt, nails grazing against the sensitive skin of your stomach.

"I don't...Nanami, I'm not..." He groaned, still breathing heavily against you.

"I want you," he intoned against you, "Maybe you can have something better than what you came here for."

"You're...you're a stranger to me," you gasped, resolve crumbling, body crying out for affection and release.

"I don't have to be," Nanami pressed, squeezing your hand, joined with his against the wall, "so let me show you what being needed really is...and then you can decide what you want to tell Jujutsu High."

Kento turned you round to face him, his one visible warm brown eye hooded with desire, beginning to unbutton his own shirt as he stroked your jaw, maintaining eye contact. You stared him down, vulnerable, tearful and overwhelmed. His thumb swiped across your eyes, hushing you softly.

"I know you don't want me to stop...do you?" he purred, his voice low and dangerous. You trembled, never wanting to find companionship like this, but sinking into Nanami's insistent control felt so intoxicating. Increasingly fearful of your own desires, you backed away to the wall again, pursued by Nanami, who blocked you in place, his knee pressed against the wall and between your legs.

"Please..." you began, begging him for...what? Pleasure? Or escape? You warred with yourself, as Nanami finished removing his shirt, wet and peeled off his body, and gods was he a sight to behold. His taut muscles and roughly hewn burn scars drew your eyes to his chest, drinking him in. Nanami smirked, tilting your chin up to him and pulling you in firmly for a kiss which broached no argument. You gasped at the sudden intrusion and Nanami took full advantage, plundering his tongue into your mouth, filling your senses with whiskey and smoke. Your arms, numb with shock, were grasped by Nanami, one by the wrist and placed against his burned chest, and one slipped under his belt, your palm flat against the trail of hair on his abdomen, just deep enough for your fingertips to graze the base of his cock.Your fingertips flinched back, and Nanami's hand pressed over yours, holding your fingers in place, his tongue trembling against yours as he shivered.

"Do you want me to stop?" he rumbled again, his mouth beginning to make a course down your jaw and neck. Leaning away momentarily, he read your face, flushed with pleasure, tears of rage in your eyes. Nanami chuckled behind your ear, nipping your earlobe hard until you squeaked and cringed. You didn't want him to stop, but couldn't be a part of making this decision for yourself. Nanami pushed your hand deeper behind his belt, the flat of your palm now pressed hard against his throbbing erection, happy to make the decision for you. Tentatively, you squeezed him, cock pulsing enticingly against your fingers, and he groaned into your mouth.

Nanami's last reservations about your willingness fell away completely, and he grabbed your jaw roughly, his hand extending to your throat and squeezing the sides, deepening his kiss. You squeaked again, your nails digging into his chest, heat flooding through you as he maintained the pressure of your hand holding his cock behind his belt, rutting forwards into your palm. Nanami felt his pleasure beginning to peak, too early, and held his hips and your hand still for a moment,your panting breaths mingling together.

Silent, heart visibly racing through the thick veins in his neck, Kento dropped to his knees in front of you. His expression stern, determined, he gripped the front seam of your trousers and ripped them open as if they were made of paper, maintaining eye contact with you the whole time, daring you to stop him. Lifting your thighs onto his shoulders as you gasped, wordless and chest heaving, your hands fell flat against the wall behind you, and Nanami rubbed his nose and lips against your puffy folds, all but completely exposed behind your soaked underwear. You clapped your hand over your mouth to keep from crying out as he inhaled deeply through his nose, euphoric in the smell of you.

"Do you want me to stop?" he hummed, the vibrations rumbling through your clit as you moaned, a high-pitched keening sound. Instinctively, both hands came off the wall to sink into Nanami's damp blond hair, pulling hard at the roots, holding his face between the heat of your legs. Rumbling his approval, Nanami's fingers swiped your underwear to the side, his tongue delving deeply between your folds, immediately beginning to flick insistently over your clit.

All rational thoughts went out of the window as Nanami licked and sucked between your legs, full attention paid to your pleasure, as you fell apart around him, thighs squeezing his head. Nanami's strong hands cupped your bum through your trousers, kneading the plush fat as he took your clit into his lips and sucked, feeling you shake as you approached the edge.

"Do you want me to stop?" he growled, and you couldn't stop yourself from whining your displeasure as he halted just before your orgasm hit you. Giving you no chance to answer, he took your clit firmly between his lips again, mouth and tongue hot and wet between your folds as you came, crying out and trembling, both hands clawing desperately at his hair, blinded by the peppering lights in your eyes.

Giving you no time to snap back to reality, you felt yourself being lifted and heaved over Nanami's shoulder.  He kicked the bathroom door open, carrying you through to the bedroom and lounge, dimly lit by the Tokyo skyline outside. Nanami dropped you on your back onto the table, positioning you until your head hung off the edge. Neck extended as you stared up at him, panting, eyes glazed, Nanami hummed as he slowly fingered the outline of your throat, his other hand undoing his belt. You gulped, mouth watering as you realised his intentions.

Lifting his heavy cock out of his trousers, Nanami began to stroke it, thumb swiping across the leaking tip, and he looked down at you, pupils blown with lust. He pressed two fingers into your mouth, shuddering with anticipation as he felt your tongue run against his fingers, licking the precum off his fingertips.

"Do...you want me to stop?" He forced out, pupils dilating as you opened your mouth for him slowly, invitingly. "Oh, fuck," groaned Nanami, pressing his length past your lips, hissing as the sensitive tip glided over your tongue and hit the back of your throat, curving to its shape, and he bucked into you, hands gripping your jaw and throat with bruising force as you gagged around him.

Nanami pulled out for long enough for you to take a deep breath through your nose, before fucking your throat with total abandon. Your wet gags and sloppy occasional breaths sent him reeling, his fingers resting on the outer edges of your throat thrilling him as he felt his cock bully past them. Hearing Nanami cursing, his voice breaking with stuttered moans, you felt heat coil in your belly, hands reaching out to grip his wet thighs to ground yourself. You felt so used, eyes streaming into your hair as he reached down your body, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he reached between your legs and curved two fingers up into your pussy, still wet from his tongue, his thumb swiping urgently over your clit. You convulsed, your hypersensitive clit tossing you into a painful second orgasm as your muscles fluttered against his curled fingers.

"Do you...do you want-- ahhh, fuck, take it take it, you're such a good girl," Nanami caged youin, hands flat on the table beside your waist, his balls hot and heavy against your nose as he came with a shout, rivers of cum trickling down your throat as you gagged, nails digging into his thighs as he rutted into your mouth, stunned by the strength of his orgasm. He pulled out of your mouth, sweaty and panting, his abs heaving in front of your face, stroking drops of his seed away from the sides of your mouth as you gasped and coughed on the table.

"Not enough," he gasped, stroking himself, half-hard already as the sight of you, spread and messy with cum on the table, "it's not enough. I'm not finished with you yet." You began to sit up, turning on the table, moving slowly towards him as he spoke again, stumbling and sweating, "Do you want me to--" Nanami was cut off by your kiss, forceful and determined as you locked your arms behind his neck.

Groaning appreciatively, carrying your weight as you locked your legs around his waist, Nanami stumbled to the bed, kicking off his trousers and beginning to rip your clothes off you. Your breasts freed, he latched aggressively onto your nipples, growling against you, completely absorbed in his plan to pound you into the mattress until you saw stars.

You bit into his shoulder blade as your trousers and underwear were flung unceremoniously aside, grabbing his cock and guiding it to your entrance, where he bottomed out in one smooth thrust, making you shriek as your pussy stretched, and you grasped onto him as you struggled to accommodate his size. Unexpectedly intimate, Nanami clasped his hand to yours, joined as he braced on his forearm above your head.

"I can't...I can't stop," Nanami choked out, slamming into you with a force that had you reeling. Barely held in place as his hips slammed yours up the bed, you locked your ankles behind Kento's hips, and he grasped you, pressing your knees to your chest until you were folded in two. Feeling his eye patch about to slip loose, and momentarily afraid you'd be disgusted by him, Nanami buried his face in your neck, grunting with every thrust as you mewled in his ear, your fingers deep in his hair, causing shivers down his spine.

You groaned, sultry and guttural, as his thick cock pounded your cervix, shuddering as you came, heat deep in your belly as Kento collapsed onto you, weak and drained as his seed filled you again, so overwhelmed by pleasure that he thought he may have seen god for a moment.

Flopping beside you on the bed, Nanami patted around above your head for his eye patch. Your hand reached up, grabbing his, lowering it to clasp together between your bodies. Nanami felt his chest clench, momentarily touched by your companionship and easy acceptance of his broken body.

"...what the hell am I going to tell Jujutsu High?" You groaned, as Nanami laughed richly, shooting you a wicked look.

"You'll come with me, then?"

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

[ramp-it-up]

Knock You Down: IV

Photo credit to @thebluemage. Edit mine.

Summary: James Bucky Barnes is an avowed bachelor and one night stand artist. But when he meets you, he finds out that sometimes love comes around, and it knocks you down. Finally! Date Number Threeeeee!

This is a follow up to Part III

Word count: 3.5 K

Pairing: Art Dealer (mob boss) Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N: This is the final part! (For now) I think that this is one that I will definitely write in answer to asks. I just love these two so so much! Thank all of you for rocking with me on this one. This was in part inspired by Seb Stan's latest pics and this press run 🫠, and partially inspired by an old song by some problematic people, lol. This is the result. As usual, I am Basil Exposition, so this is broken into parts.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. SMUT!!!! The end of the Slow burn, now it's burning very fast 😅. Cursing, flirting, jealousy, apologies, Bucky cooking (a warning!), kissing, dry humping, dirty talk in both English and Romanian, voice kink, oral sex (m and f receiving), protected sex (yay Bucky!) And these two are so fucking fluffy. I'm scared, y'all. I want it to be good enough for the build up.

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

-----

As soon as he entered the Brownsville Arts and Culture Center, James Bucky Barnes was hot. Blood was rushing to his ears and he needed a drink. He wasn’t sick; his symptoms were all due to you.

The black dress that adorned your body contained all of his hopes and dreams, but you seemed to be flirting with another man, twirling for him and then giving him a hug. To add insult to injury, you had the nerve to laugh and smile with the punk. 

You in that black dress was everything in the world that Bucky could want, except maybe you out of that black dress. As his eyes traced down your form, he noticed the 5 inch red bottoms that you had on. Yes. You, out of that dress with just the red bottoms. That was what he needed in his life.

But first, he had to take care of that other man.

—-

“Benson’s work emphasizes the subjects’ spiritual essence over their physical appearance, don’t you think?”

You turned around at the sound of the deep baritone. 

“Well hello, Mr. Rogers. How are you today? Delivering an art analysis given to you by AI? Oh. I forgot. You are an ‘art dealer.’ An art dealer who goes to Soul Cycle in Brownsville all of a sudden?”

Steve clutched his heart.

“Ah. I’m hurt, Y/N. I thought we were cool. But I guess I deserved the air quotes.  I do actually love art. I took some art classes when I was a kid and I still love to sketch.”

“Hmmmph. Okay. I’ll give you that. But how is it that you popped up in my Soul Cycle class? Don’t play me, Steven.”

Steve raised his eyebrow at you and grinned. He understood why Buckiy was so drawn to you. Not only were you gorgeous, you were a spitfire. That was hot.

“I would never try to play you, Y/N. I also actually love Soul Cycle. Used to teach a class in Park Slope.”

“I guess you can’t judge a book by its cover, can you?”

Steve’s eyes slid over you appraisingly.

“Speaking of. You look very, very nice today.”

You twirled for him, feeling as safe as you would your brother.

“Nice. Okay, listen. I’m sorry about the other day. I was just trying to protect my friend. And you.”

Steve sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I’ve never seen Bucky like this. He’s never been this smitten with someone before and let them into his life. But I get it now.”

Steve’s blue eyes were almost as beautiful as Bucky’s.

“Bucky is my family. Since we were kids. He’s always taken care of me. And I will do anything for him.”

He raised his eyebrow at you.

“I can see now that means that I will do anything for you, because I have a feeling that you’re gonna be around a lot. So do you forgive me?”

You considered Steve. He was not too different from his best friend, and you couldn’t hold a grudge. Not after Bucky laid it all out to you last night You opened your arms.

“Let’s hug it out.”

Steve chuckled and gathered you into his warm embrace. You pulled back and giggled, grinning at him.

“So what makes you think I’m gonna be hanging around?”

“Well, judging from the look on Bucky’s face, he’s serious about you.”

Steve nodded behind you, toward the door. You looked that way and saw James Bucky Barnes headed straight for you. 

And he didn’t look happy.

—--

“Good morning, Frumoasă. You look stunning today. The exhibit is amazing, the space looks great and it seems that the right people are in the building.”

Bucky came up and placed his hand on the small of your back as he spoke to you, ignoring Steve. His blue eyes were storm clouds at the moment, and his touch was electric.

“Thank you, James. You’re so observant, I appreciate that. And you look very handsome today.”

You looked him up and down and bit your lip, meeting his gaze and the way he kept eye contact as he inclined his head in response. 

Bucky was attractive as hell in his black on black shirt, blazer and slacks. You noticed that his collar was unbuttoned; the medallion hanging on his chest made you want to take it between your teeth. You stared at it for a moment, imagining such a scenario where that could happen and then met his eyes again, prompting desire to roll through you as Bucky licked his lips. He was right there with you.

You smiled at him in a way that you didn’t smile at Steve. Who was Steve Rogers, anyway? You could hardly remember meeting him as your mind went to the feel of being in Bucky Barnes’ arms.

You sensed an air of proprietariness as Bucky took your hand and kissed it, causing a shiver to run down your spine. Possessive Bucky Barnes felt like a sin you wanted to indulge in. You cleared your throat and looked at Steve, as if surprised to find him still standing there, watching the show.

“Well, I see some board members over there, I’m going to go do my job. Talk to you later, boys.”

You walked away and gave them a wink over your shoulder, and you caught both of them looking at your ass. You shook your head and chuckled as you went on your way.

“You trying to steal my girl?”

Everyone stopped when Steve laughed, his deep boom a distraction. Bucky still wasn’t amused.

“Oh. So you’re in love.”

“What?”

“You’ve never worried about me taking your leftovers or vice versa before. Hell, we’ve even shared–”

“Shut your fucking mouth.”

Bucky snapped at Steve who put his hands up.

“Whoa, there. Just yanking your chain, buddy; I know she’s special. I wouldn’t dream of making a move on her. Not that she knows I’m alive. When you walked up, I thought I was going to have to take off my jacket so you two could fuck on the floor.”

Bucky was barely listening to Steve as his eyes followed you around the room. One thing Steve said was echoing in his mind: “So you’re in love.”

—-

You floated through the rest of the day on a cloud. The exhibit was a smashing success with the 

Board of Directors in attendance. Securing Howard Benson’s penultimate work from Rebirth was the feather in your cap. 

And you had Bucky to thank for it.

Bucky’s visit was also a hit; he and Steve charmed the board members with the help of Sam and Nat, who arrived later. They all made amends for what occurred that week and you were left very impressed with James Barnes.

After a couple of hours at the event, Bucky came over to let you know he was leaving.

“I will see you later, Frumoasă. I have much to prepare for tonight. Nico will pick you up at 7:30.”

“See you soon, James.”

He kissed your hand again.

“See you soon, Y/N.”

—---

“It is actually insanely attractive how you handled yourself in the kitchen.”

You were seated with Bucky on his couch in his living room, looking over the New York skyline from his Brooklyn penthouse. The dessert had been delicious and the wine in your hand was spectacular. 

“I was sure you’d order something in and just play it off. But I watched you create a meal in front of me, and I should have known that if you said you were going to cook, that you would do just that.”

Bucky’s heart beat double time at what you were saying. He wanted so much for tonight, but most of all, he wanted it to flow naturally. He saw that you were relaxed and open to him, which pleased him immensely.

“I’ll take that as a compliment, Frumoasă. I enjoy cooking for my friends and family. Cooking for a beautiful woman is a treat.”

Bucky’s eyes slid over your form. You had changed to jeans and a color block sweater that just put your cleavage out there for the world, which was Bucky Barnes, to see. You also wore the same red bottoms from that day, and Bucky was beginning to think he had a foot fetish as you took them off at his entryway.

You took a sip of wine.

“How often do you do that? Cook for a woman?”

You barely hid your curiosity.

Bucky smiled and drained his glass, reaching over to refill it.

“Not as often as you’d think. Never had any other woman over here. Food is not usually the top priority with them.”

You pouted, which was so cute. Your spark of jealousy inspired Bucky.

“But I don’t want to talk about anyone else. Tonight is about me and you.”

Any uncertainty that arose was quelled by his assertion. You grew warm, so you finished your wine and rose to go to the window. 

“This is the most gorgeous view I’ve ever seen.”

“Absolutely agree.”

You looked behind you and Bucky was still sitting on the couch, hands spread out on the back of it, checking you out. You gave him one of your adorable smiles and he came to stand behind you, and took you in his arms. 

“I want you to know that you deserve everything, Y/N. To be cheered on and protected every day. And thoroughly ruined every night.”

You turned around and his hands went to your hips. It was the perfect moment.

“James?”

“Can I have a kiss?”

Bucky’s eyes dilated, and he moved his hand to your cheek. He licked his lips as he looked deep into your eyes.

“Ah, Frumoasă. I thought you’d never ask.”

His first movement was a subtle brush of your lips. He pulled back to assess the situation, and you didn’t know why, but that made your nipples tighten into stiff peaks. You gasped as Bucky watched you hungrily. 

The air seemed to change around you, and you shivered. He lowered his head so his lips could meet yours again, and this time his mouth was gentle but demanding. You gasped at the spike of electricity that flared between you and Bucky took the opportunity to dip his tongue into your mouth, scorching your lips and soul. With a low groan, he shifted your angle, bending you backward a little to kiss you deeper and ripping a moan from you as you melted against him. 

Good lord, could the man kiss. 

At that point, he was holding you up, one hand on your hip and one hand on the back of your head as you molded yourself against him. Bucky’s fingers dug into you, sure to leave bruises the next day. You relished the thought as you moaned into his mouth again, giving him the opportunity to continue destroying your soul. 

Bucky dragged his lips from yours reluctantly and stared at you, eyes almost black with desire. He brought his thumb up and wiped the moisture from your bottom lip. Motivated, you captured his digit, drawing it into the hot wetness of your mouth. He stared at you, mouth open, as you looked him straight in the eye and started sucking.

Bucky moaned as he pushed his thumb deeper into your mouth, and walked you back to the couch. He extracted his finger, watching the show your lips put on as he pulled it out, leaving them in a delectable pout. 

“More,” Bucky demanded as he crouched down and took your head in both hands as he kissed you again. 

His hands wound up in your hair, tugging gently, then on your back, then your ass as you arched your back to fill his palms. Bucky picked you up, then deposited you on his lap as he sat down on the couch, and you felt how aroused he was. His thick length was where you needed him most.

“Fuck! That feels good.”

Bucky was watching you grind on him like it was the best show on earth. Then he looked up at you.

“Yes, yes it does.”

He leaned forward and captured your bottom lip between his teeth, a preview of how rough he wanted to be with you. Then, he went in for another kiss. That continued for a good five minutes until he pulled away to stare at your swollen lips, and down to your cleavage, which was practically in his face.

When his eyes met yours, you were entranced.

“You good? You want this to happen?”

You nodded and took his hands in yours, guiding them up to your breasts, squeezing yourself with his hands. You rolled your hips, causing his breath to hitch in his throat.

“Like you said, James. More.”

You continued to grind on him, causing him to just gape at your body moving on his.

“I’ve dreamed of this so many times…”

“Yes? Tell me about your dreams, Baby.”

His hands moved to find your nipples through the lace of your bra and the wool of your sweater. He found them in no time, and pinched them lightly, then more roughly when you moaned.

“Mmmmnnnn. So fucking hot.”

Bucky kissed you again and then pulled away as he stared you down and tortured you. 

“I dream about marking you up,” he kissed your neck under your chin, “to your clavicle,” a kiss there, “and all over this beautiful flesh until I get to your nipples.” 

He looked at you for any signs of discomfort as he slipped his hands under your sweater to find the thin lace there. He found your hard peaks again and started rolling them both in his fingers.

“Then I want to kiss and suck them until you come in my arms.”

“Holy god, Jamie….”

Bucky’s eyes rolled at the second pet name you called him and continued.

“Wake up so fucking hard every morning since I met you. Then, I daydream about how wet and tight you will be after I made you cum, and how good it would feel to… to give you my cock. Do y’like that idea, Frumoasă?”

“Y-yesssss!”

“O să te fac să vii pe penisul meu iar și iar, Frumoasă.”

You almost came right then.

“D-don’t know what you said, but yes to whatever you just suggested.”

Bucky pulled you to him, and then chuckled into your ear.

“It means that I want to make you cum over and over again on my cock.”

You were already making a mess in your jeans, but you knew he could feel you soaking them at the moment.

“Please. Give it to me?”

Bucky groaned and kissed you again, this time encircling your waist in his grip and pressing you down on his bulge. 

“You know I can’t deny you anything. Are you certain?”

“Yes, James. Please…”

He lifted you easily, kissing you as he walked you down the hall to his bedroom, depositing you on his bed. 

“Y’look so fucking good.”

He crawled toward you on the bed and settled between your thighs as you hitched your leg over his. You pressed your core against his bulge and it had you muttering.

“Too many clothes.”

Bucky leaned up and you were fumbling with his button and he with yours. You looked up and laughed. 

“Maybe faster the other way.”

“Agreed.”

You two made quick work of your own garments, flinging them around the room between frenzied kisses. The way your eyes widened when Bucky got naked made his chest swell. He wanted you to always look at him like that.

“Wow…,” you said as your eyes roamed his physique.

His cock seemed massive as it slapped him on the abs.

“Wow, indeed,” replied Bucky as he took you in hungrily.

Your white lace underwear looked amazing against your skin and against your cunt it served to make him hungry.

He moved toward you again, kissing up your leg until he got to the edge of your panties and nudged his nose there, making you squirm.

“Smell so good, look so good…”

Bucky kissed at the edge of your underwear,

“I just know you’re gonna taste good too..”

He moved to the center of you, placing a kiss over your lace-covered sodden slit. Then, he looked up at you and smirked before he leaned down and licked you over your panties. 

“Fuck.”

He pulled your panties to the side and gazed at you there. 

Those blue eyes threatened to steal your soul as he gazed at you and confessed, “This is the most gorgeous pussy I’ve ever seen,” and proceeded to lick a rude stripe up the center of you after he tore your panties away.

“Oh my god, James.”

You rolled your hips again and reached down to feel Bucky’s soft hair. He pulled your hips closer and his lips suckled you with more pressure, adding one finger, then two to stretch you out. 

“Gotta get you ready for me, my love.” 

Your eyes rolled back into your head as you moaned through Bucky thrusting his tongue inside you, then pulling back to focus on your clit.

“I c-can’t.. I–”

“Give me my cum, Frumoasă!”

You locked eyes with him as he buried his face in your cunt and shook against him as you came embarrassingly fast, pulling on his messed up curls.

“So fucking delicious. Taste.”

He took your head in both hands and kissed you deeply, and you responded by sucking your essence off of his tongue. You reached down and started stroking his cock, overjoyed and a little bit scared that your fingers didn’t meet around him as he unclasped your bra.

Bucky whimpered as your thumb came up and stroked his sensitive head, spreading his precum over the wide, mushroom cap.

“You’re so fucking huge, Bucky…”

Bucky pulled you toward him as he reached into his bedside drawer for a condom and a bottle.

“And you’re so wet, Furmoasa. We will make this work. Believe me…”

You continued to stroke and watched him as he brought the wrapper to his teeth and him tearing it open was about the hottest act of sexual protection you’d ever seen. Somehow, your mouth ended up sucking his tip as you watched his eyes roll back into his skull.

“That beautiful mouth…”

Bucky put his hand on your head as you tasted him experimentally, wondering if you’d ever be able to take it all. He seemed to read your mind as he spoke next.

“Don’t worry, I plan on us having a lot of practice with this later, but if you don’t let me put this condom on, I’m gonna cum all over your face, Frumoasă…”

You looked up at him and grinned as his cock jumped in your mouth, but you finally pulled off of him with a pop.

“I need to feel you around me when I cum love. S’all I’ve been dreaming of all week.”

Now his chest was heaving as he rolled the condom on, and he pushed you back onto the bed as his hand went to your core once again. You were even wetter than before and Bucky smiled at you, lining up and kissing you on the forehead as he began to breach your folds.

When he slid inside, your fingernails curled into his shoulders and your eyes grew wide. Bucky stopped, concentrating while his cock pumped, barely inside you.

“There is nothing. In the world. Like being inside your soft, wet, cunt.”

“Fuckkkkk!” 

You became even wetter and he slid fully inside you. There, Bucky waited for you to get adjusted around him.

“So fucking tight. And hot. Just like I knew you would be.”

“More, Jamie!”

Smiling, Bucky started moving and you gripped him as he stroked in and out.

“Please don’t stop. Harder!”

Bucky grabbed the headboard and gave you what you wanted. His other hand pulled your hair and his strokes became more intense.

“Wanted to last longer, but I can’t, Baby. So beautiful. Pussy made for me. Cuming soon, but later… O să te fac să vii pe penisul meu iar și iar, Frumoasă. I never make a promise I can’t keep.”

You orgasm whited out your vision and your throat burned as you screamed. Bucky roared, filling the condom with copious amounts of cum. Your cunt was milking him and he hoped it would hold. He stayed sunk into you as long as he could before he had to get up and rid himself of the prophylactic.

He was only in the en suite for a few minutes as you floated in and out of sleep, lust drunk and exhausted.

Bucky climbed back into bed and got both of you situated under the covers, whispering in your ear.

“Stay tonight.”

“Of course. That was the plan, wasn’t it?”

Both of you chuckled, because you knew it was true. Bucky kissed your ear and waited for your breath to even out. When he thought you were asleep, he whispered again.

“I’m going to be a better man for you, Frumoasă.”

“You are exactly who you need to be, James Barnes. Just keep moving forward. Tomorrow is another day to do that.”

After a few more minutes, you spoke again.

“Tomorrow will only be a week that we’ve known each other. Imagine that.” 

Bucky buried his nose in your hair, inhaling your scent.

“Guess I better wait until tomorrow to ask you to marry me.”

You laughed a sleepy laugh.

“You got jokes.”

“You know me, Frumoasă. A professional comedian.”

But somewhere in the dark of Bucky Barnes’ closet, a diamond found some light and sparkled.

——

The next morning is here ;)

Please, please! Let me know!

[esmedelacroix]

All the ways you disappoint me.

pairing: boyfriend!miguel o'hara x f!reader

summary: The honeymoon phase confirmed it's existence for the second year of dating Miguel. Your love life went from flourishing to one-sided the day Miguel revealed to you that he was Spiderman.

cw: ooc miguel, very angsty, depressive behaviors, alcohol abuse

a/n: I have been on hiatus for a very long time. I've been in a very dark place this past month. I lost a very good friend of mine that I have known since middle school. Which really threw me off track. I have a bunch of works in progress coming out soon. I finally feel like I'm in a mentally okay spot to pick up writing again. This is lowk just word vomit but its something.

*listen to this song on loop for the best experience !

miguel masterlist | next part

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Disappointment. A feeling you you felt often. Maybe even too often. You were very familiar with disappointment. He only ever came around late at night. Disappointment would wrap his arms around you as if he wasn't the reason why there was a wet spot on your pillowcase almost every night.

All Miguel O'Hara ever does is disappoint you. "So why are you still with him?" your good friend Jess asked over hot morning tea.

"What am I supposed to do without him?" you questioned.

"That's not a very healthy mindset to have. You know that," Jess said putting a firm comforting hand over yours.

You look away for a moment. Eyes trailing out the window of the Spider Society Café that reeked of coffee and broken promises. Miguel O'Hara was married to the barista who would hand him five coffees minimum a day. He chose to marry the barista and work and not his own girlfriend of three years.

As you watched the birds create an arrow in the air flying north over the firey trees below. Part of you wished that you were a bird in this very moment flying away from the problems that devoured your brain from the inside. "You still with me?" Jess asked worriedly.

"Yeah," you sighed turning back to her.

"So you'll talk to Miguel tonight?" Jess commanded. She did that a lot. She would ask a question that sounded like an order which made you feel the need to obey. You simply nodded bringing your mug to your lips and sipping on your now-cold Earl Grey tea.

"Isn't it strange how quickly tea gets cold?" you thought out loud.

"Well that's kind of how tea works hon'," she answered.

. . .

You stopped waiting for Miguel to come home ages ago because you didn't think there was a point in it. Just like how you didn't see the point in trying to talk to him about putting effort into your relationship. In the same way you shouldn't have seen the point in staying with him after your last thousand arguments. You felt your eyelids get heavier with every passing hour you spent staring at the ceiling waiting to hear the door swing open.

Like you summoned him with your mind, you heard the door. The keys. The sigh. And the footsteps. Your heart began to race. Why am I nervous? You asked yourself. You stood up and walked out of your shared room.

Miguel's usual routine was to get home eat the food you prepared for him hours prior, shower, and go to bed. As you walked down the hallway leading to the kitchen, you stopped yourself before turning the corner. Inhale. Exhale. You stepped out into the kitchen and his head shot up immediately. "I'm sorry, did I wake you?" he asked. That’s new. An apology, from Miguel. You thought to yourself.

"No, no, I was having trouble sleeping," you answered in a quiet voice.

"Everything alright?" he questioned as he scraped the last bit of food on his plate into his mouth.

"Yeah, I've just been thinking," you started.

"About?" he asked urging you to continue.

"Miguel do you still love me?" you blurted out.

"Of course I do," he replied in a fraction of a second. He sounded almost hurt that you had even asked that question.

Moments like these make you forget the status of your relationship. Moments when Miguel would forget that he's supposed to be cold to you. The moments when he allowed himself to let his guard down around you. Those fleeting moments that should have never left your relationship. "Then why don't we spend any time together? I want to be around you Miguel, I don't care if we sit in silence in the most boring place on the planet. I just want to be in your presence," you admitted. He gave you that little hurt expression again.

"I—I've just been busy," he stuttered. Miguel would often do this thing where he would begin to say something and then cut himself off and choose to say something else.

"Miguel, you know you can tell me anything," you insisted.

"I just—can we please not do this right now?" he pleaded.

You gave him a frown. "Can we sleep it off? Talk about it in the morning?" he sighed rubbing his face.

"Will you even be here in the morning?" you ask under your breath.

"I'll see," he said putting a hand on your shoulder as he walked past you into the bathroom. He did it again. He cut off the conversation the moment it got hard for him. Why are we so complicated? You asked yourself as you lay your head on your moist pillow. Will there ever be a night where I don't cry because of him? A night where he doesn't confuse me with his actions?

. . .

That night as you lay in bed with his back faced away from him, you couldn't help but cry. You felt like you were drowning in your tears. Like they were holding you back. You tried to be as quiet as possible. Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts. You repeated to yourself.

The only happy thoughts you could think of were of Miguel. Or the Miguel you used to know. The person he used to be before he started using his job as an excuse to neglect you.

Just then when your breathing slowed and you calmed down a bit with tears still streaming down your face. He wrapped his arms around you. He cuddled you from behind. He did that often. When he thought you were asleep. It was almost as if different versions of himself occupied his brain. You liked the one that took the spotlight at night.

The one that would cuddle you. Nuzzle his nose into your hair. The one that would rub your back and. Apologize. To. You.

. . .

Apology fell asleep that night and disappointment woke up at the ass crack of dawn because there was another Spider-verse that needed saving.

You woke up later that morning to the usual chilling feeling of Miguel not being there. You got up stretching your arms as you walked to your kitchen. You made yourself a cup of tea and an omelette, and ate alone, in silence. Thinking. About him. Again.

For the second time this week as if you called for him with your heart, you heard the balcony door slide open and a masked man swing in. He took his mask off and shook his head adjusting his hair. "Good morning," you said with a stupid smile on your face. Why? You couldn't tell. Maybe it was the fact that he was actually here in the morning like he said he would be.

"Good morning. You’re in a good mood," he chuckled.

"Well you're here," you smiled.

Miguel gave you a look. You weren't sure how to feel about it. But it wasn't a bad look. It was nice. Kind of sweet. He prepared a pot of black coffee and talked about his morning in Peni Parker's universe catching a difficult anomaly. For a moment, you could feel little fireflies set off in your stomach seeing him talk about something he was passionate about.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" he asked as he took a seat next to you.

"Just about us and our recent slump, I guess?" you started.

"I'm listening," he hummed as he sipped his coffee.

"I want to spend more time with you Miguel. I want to not argue with you about how much time you spend at work. I want to know what's on your mind. I want to know how you really are and not just how you say you are," you admit. Miguel stayed quiet for a while in thought.

"I don't know what to say to that," he said; his voice cracking a bit.

"You don't have to say anything just—let me be your shelter, please?" you suggested.

. . .

That night Miguel didn't come home. He didn't come in the middle of the night. He didn't come to eat either. He didn't come to wrap his arms around you. And he didn't come to apologize.

. . .

I don't like it when my friends tell me I have a drinking problem. How could it possibly be a problem if it makes me feel better about all the things that rack my brain? Being vulnerable is much easier said than done. Especially, with the girl I love. Of course, I want to tell her things. I want to tell her everything. I want her to know me as well as she knows her hometown. As well as she knows her childhood cat. And as well as she knows how to navigate Pinterest.

But I'm afraid. I'm afraid I'll cry and she'll think I'm weak. I'm afraid she'll think I'm unworthy. I know she would never think those things about me. But how could anyone think anything differently if I think that way about myself?

That's why I turn to the friend that won't let me down ever. Endless Modelos. Because I'm so weak that I can't even open up tp my girlfriend. Every time I feel like I am finally ready to tell her what I'm going through, I stop myself because I am afraid.

. . .

To your great surprise, Miguel wasn't there in the morning. Or the next, or even the one after that. By the third you hadn't seen him it was beginning to stress you out. You wondered if he was safe. If he was even still alive. You decided to go to the Spider Society.

After talking with Jess for a while and babysitting Mayday for a bit. You were finally free to go see Miguel in his office. You opened the door and called out to him but the only thing you heard from him was a sniff. Then two. Followed by a third.

"Miguel are you up there?" you asked as you climbed the stairs to his his platform.

"No?" he said in a shaky voice.

"Is everything okay?" you asked. You saw your answer in the form of 10 too many emptied beer bottles on his desk and on the ground.

You rushed towards him discarding your purse on the ground. He brought his hands to his face and he hid. From you. Your heart sank to the lowest pit in your stomach it could reach. You placed a gentle hand on his shoulders and crouched down next to him. "Miguel, talk to me, please?" you whispered.

Nothing.

. . .

The worst way Miguel could ever disappoint you happened. You had imagined it happening in so many other ways but not like that. You never thought of him as the type of man to give up on something so good.

For the last time in your relationship, Miguel O'Hara disappointed you when he told you he wanted to break up.

. . .

next part → All the ways I defy you

[xo-codbby]

werewolf!simon x reader 🖤

18+, mdni, sex n the whole lot lolz. first time writing werewolf smut, forgive any mistakes 🫡🫣

"you touch yourself while i was gone, bunny?"

the question had been innocent enough but the way he had you under him in the bed made you shiver in anticipation, body trembling in pure pleasure. deft fingers pry your thighs open, two thick fingers dragging along your slick slit, collecting the honeyed essence on the tips of his fingers. a dark chuckle rolling off his tongue as his hums softly in satisfaction, dark brown eyes burning into yours before your taste dance along his tongue. he lets out a satisfied groan, a thick sound erupting deep from his chest as you watch his face darken in pure lust and love.

his broad frame shivers in delight but this time he has to restrain himself, its already so hard when his cock is aching for some relief. he bends slightly, his tongue trailing up the hollow of your neck as he growls softly collecting your taste to hold close.

"needy for me already, hm? didn't do a thing yet" he blows softly across your waiting cunt, his smile peeking through when he sees your poor neglected pussy twitch just for him. you don't even get to answer before you feel his thick finger slip deep inside you, slowly working and stretching you open. he's absolutely mesmerised by the sight, intently watching how your greedy pussy swallows his finger, revelling in the soft whimper you let out as he goes deeper.

"so tight for me, love. bet your little fingers couldn't stretch you out the way i can, huh?" he slides in another, soaking up the way you cried softly clenching desperately around his thick digits already so overstimulated from not being able to have any relief

"none of tears now, quit that crying baby" he coos softly, his face bending slightly as his nose brushes against your clit making you buck your hips

"feels s'good si" you murmur breathlessly trying to rock your hips against his hand only causing him to chuckle, gently tutting his tongue. he only lets his fingers do the work, curling upwards making you groan softly. you knew he was still pissed from earlier, back when he saw a recruit around you. it was bad enough he agitated from the loss of the mission but seeing you give a hug to the other man had set him off and you found yourself in his barracks with him reminding you just who owned you like this

"wonder if that bastard thinks he could get you like this" simon hissed out softly, retracting his fingers looking at your flushed face. the sight makes him so possessive, he's half determined just to fuck you in front of the recruit so he knows not to mess with his woman. but the other half is too selfish, not wanting to share with another man just how pretty you sound.

"si pleas-" your sentence gets cut off with a moan as he finally gives in, big hands wrapped around your thighs his thick tongue lapping against your opening before splitting you open drinking up your slick. it's all too much and not enough, he's mindful not to hurt you but the urge to claim you only grows higher. his hips rut against the mattress desperately, grunting into your cunt as he sucks on your clit

he doesn't let up his assault between your legs, the beast in him not satisfied even as his teeth scraped your skin gently leaving soft bruises against your skin. he usually would've let you cum a few times on his hands before he works you on his knot but tonight he feels needy, feels agitated still at the other man who had his filthy hands all over you

you were right on the edge, every nerve in your body set ablaze by the man between your legs. your body curls as he draws out your orgasm but he doesn't let you cum, not just yet anyway. he manhandles your body, pulling you up against his chest as the other shreds his trousers off shrugging them somewhere in the depths of the room

"mine. you're fucking mine, you understand that don't you?" every word is enunciated with a soft kiss as you nod quickly hands grasping on his chest feeling the muscles twitch under your touch eliciting a soft growl from his throat. you feel the head of his cock against your entrance as you gasp softly, legs shaking slightly as you breathe shakily

"it won't fit-" "i'll make it fucking fit, love"

the last bit of his resolve shatters, completely driven by his innate instinct to satisfy you. to mate you, to claim you. he roughly grabs you by your hips, lining himself up before pushing deep inside you, stretching you open and laying you bare. your walls hugged around his weeping cock, aching with pure need as he pulls you further on him.

his calloused hands smooth over your body, across your skin reverently for his own peace of mind that you really were in his arms. he adores how easily you seem to fall apart in his grasp, his thumb grazing over your nipples enjoying how you pressed up against him

he thrusts back into your needy cunt, feeling him twitch and pulse inside you as you moaned softly in his arms. barely able to support yourself as he holds you caging you between his muscles and the bed. desperately rutting himself into you to prove to you how devoted he was, how he was yours just as much as you were his.

"look how pretty y'look sucking up my cock, lovie. s'fuckin gorgeous" he pants, words slurred completely drunk on your taste and feel of you. completely lost in the way your warm walls flutter around him, coaxing him to drive further into you. it had been days since he wwas able to have you and now that he was nearing the months where he'd go into heat, he found it hard to compose himself like he usually could

"m'gonna cum baby" he moans causing you to cling onto him, both of you lost in ecstasy. his senses are in overdrive, hips sloppily moving as he captures your lips against his groaning at the taste of you. you can feel him grow needy, stretching you over his thick knot that was already swelling. his release on the cusp but he refused to let go until you were with him, until you were properly claimed

"need to cum" you whimper back and it's only when your ankles loop around his back that he loses his composure, rutting into you like the depraved animal he was. he drives you closer, deeper, your senses completely overpowered just as his were

with one last deep thrust, ghost pushes his knot burying it deep inside you both as he sends the pair of you over the edge. it's thicker than you remember, bigger than you thought but somehow he managed to make it fit like he promised. he spills into you, not willing to let you come down from your high as he humps into you. a soft groan as his face settles in the crook of your neck, stroking your back softly his hands steadying your waist his cock trying to bury deep inside your willing hole.

"y'did so good f'me lovie" he kisses your skin, gazing down at you with pure adoration you've never been loved so tenderly like this before. there you were sprawled out on his knot, in his arms, against him safe and sound. he might've been a beast to others, untamed and unrule but to you he was your simon. your sweet man who'd maim and kill for you

"i love you" your voice is so soft, you both weren't going anywhere tonight. he needed this just as much as you did, your body against his as he lazily tugs the covers around you both pressing soft kisses up your neck and cheek.

"i love you" he nuzzled his nose against your cheek, settling down once more as he pulled you close to his chest. the soft beat of his heart lulling you asleep, his warmth better than any blanket could provide you with. you know deep down its only a matter of time before you both go af it again but until then you rest up, cuddling close to the man you loved deeply more than anything.

i kinda gave up halfway through this LMAO my bad hope you enjoyed !

[lalasimmer]

How to convert Sims 4 3D CAS Rooms to Sims 3

Disclaimer: If you’re not familiar with Blender/TSRW/UVs then this tutorial may not be for you. If you don’t have Sims 4 Studio which needs the Sims 4 base game (or don’t know how to extract the meshes without it) this tutorial may not be for you. Honestly it’s pretty straight forward, but there’s a lot of trial and error and going in game and out of game checking placement, etc. I use Blender 4.1 for this. The older Blender versions annoy me now lol I’m sorry 😅 but you should still be able to do the same things in the older versions. I'm trying to make this as easy as possible. I’m here to answer any questions though 💕 Tutorial below

Things you’ll need:

Blender (whatever version you prefer)

Sims 4 Studio

TSRW ( I use version 2.0.86)

My Christmas CAS Room here

My TSRW work file here

Tutorial:

Find a Sims 4 CAS room that you like and open it up in Sims4Studio. This is the one I'll be using for the tutorial.

In the Texture tab, export the textures. The only textures that matter are the first 3 diffuse. Go to the Meshes tab and export the mesh, it will save as a .blend file. After that you can close out of Sims4Studio.

Open my Christmas CAS Room in TSRW. You'll get this message. Hit ignore and don't send. We only need this file as a reference to resize the SIms 4 CAS room. Export the mesh as an obj, name it whatever you like. You can close TSRW for now.

Open Blender and open the .blend file you exported from Sims4Studio. Make sure to delete studio_mesh_0 as it's just the shadow map and we don't need that. This is what mine looks like after fixing the textures.

Then import the wavefront obj you just exported from TSRW. Again we're just using this as a size reference.

This is what it looks like after I added the obj. I scaled, moved, and rotated the room to match up as close as I could with my reference mesh. When you have it lined up to your liking you can delete the reference mesh. I usually import the sims 3 body to see where my sim would be in CAS as well so feel free to do that too.

Now we have to separate the objects that use transparency in the scene to their own group. The transparent objects will always be located on studio_mesh_1. I usually do this in UV mode. Make sure UV Sync Selection is on. Where the red arrow is, that's the UV Selection button. It's blue so that means its on.

Tip: If you're using the same Blender version I am (I'm not sure if the older versions below Blender 3.0 do this) you can disconnect the alpha in shader editor and then you can easily see what uses transparency because it has a black background like the plants. Don't worry about the one outside the window as that's on the backdrop image and doesn't show in CAS.

Important: Also, make sure you delete the back of the mirror frame or it will show through the mirror in game. I usually select it in the UV editor as well and delete it.

After selecting all the objects that use transparency, I go to the 3D viewport window and press P, then selection. Now they're on their own layer as you can see. That's a very important step so please don't miss it.

Sims 4 CAS Rooms don't have a closed room like ts3 and if you don't add walls/ceiling with planes you'll be able to see that it in CAS. You can do this in any way you're comfortable with. If you don't understand how to do it feel free to ask me. For this tutorial I will not be doing this perfectly lol I've done enough rooms and I'm just trying to teach here 😩

Okay now last is renaming groups to import into TSRW. Make sure it's in this exact order and uses the exact group numbers.

Group 0 - Mirror

Group 1 - Windows/Curtains

Group 2 - View outside the window

Group 3 - Walls

Group 4 - Objects with transparency

Depending on the CAS Room you convert, yours may not have a mirror you know. You can delete groups in TSRW, experiment, feel free to ask me questions as well.

After renaming the groups, select only the groups you renamed and export as an obj. Make sure that object groups is checked so that they can stay in groups.

Open TSRW and open the testroom_cas.wrk file.

After opening the file you'll see this exact room in this tutorial lol because I had to test some things first 😅

Import the CAS room you converted from. You'll get these two messages. Click yes on the first and no on the second.

Import your textures (yours may be different than mine depends on the converter) but most have been the same that I've seen. Group 0 is the mirror it doesn't require a texture. Group 1 and Group 4 usually have the same texture.

After export to sims3pack or export as package file. Make sure you compress your files and you should be good to test your CAS room in game.

If you would like to make your own from the original ts3 cas room, I would suggest watching this Youtube video (it's for TS4 but it still applies and is helpful) and the link to the original ts3 cas room is here. Since we can convert ts4 to ours you could probably just build your own and go from there as well.

Thanks to @mookymilksims for testing things for me and converting her own. If you would like to try this tutorial out and experiment with room placements using @boringbones Ultra wide CAS mod which changes the field of view in cas so that you can see the whole cas room, it is here. I didn't use it for mine, but that's only because I found out about it after from Mooky lol and I'm tired of converting them 😅 but feel free to ask me any questions if you need help 😊

[michelle-is-writing]

Doubt, Spencer Reid

Word Count: 1k~

I've noticed Spencer avoiding me lately and looking rather sad. He doesn't reject me when I give him attention, but its almost as if he never returns the favor. I commonly see him reading a book for a few minutes before losing focus or interest in the work of literature and putting it down with a sigh. It's unusual for Spencer to lose interest in something so quickly, and it's strange for Spencer to not talk to me as much as he usually would.

After returning from a day of work at the BAU, Spencer does what he usually does and places his bag beside the door along with his shoes before stripping off his coat and hanging it up. Walking over to me, he plops down on the couch beside me and plops his head beside my legs. Happy to see him, I smile at down him, moving my hand to lightly drag my finger across his cheek. He doesn't smile at this, but he doesn't pull away from my touch either. This is my moment to ask him.

"Spence, baby," I say his name, causing him to glance up at me. "Are you okay?" I ask, furrowing my eyebrows. "You haven't been your usual self, and I'm kind of worried."

Staring up at me, Spencer stays quiet for several seconds before sighing and answering me. "I'm okay, yes," he answers, sitting up. "I've just... I've just had a few things on my mind lately," With his back facing me, I move closer to him before wrapping my arms around him and pulling him into me, his head laying back on my shoulder.

"Then tell me," I say to him, leaning over and kissing his cheek. "Tell me what's on your mind."

Spencer shakes his head in a way that says he doesn't think it's a big deal; we've been dating for so long that we know what each other's movements mean. I know when he purses his lips and shakes his head that he doesn't think something is a big deal. I also know that when Spencer's eyes stare straight ahead instead of meeting mine that he's afraid to tell me something, or he's a bit hesitant in what he's about to say. Even though he's doing all of these, I don't stop asking him until he finally sighs and begins to speak, his voice low.

"I'm not good enough for you," Spencer tells me, making me a little confused. "I can't do a lot of things with you like travel or take you on planned dates without stupid work cutting in," he sighs, closing his eyes. "Besides, I'm never home with you for more than two or three days. Not to mention I'm socially awkward and I sometimes don't know what to say... sometimes, all I can think about is how you're too good for me, and you deserve someone so, so much better."

After hearing his confession, I don't know what to say. I wait a few moments to respond as I slowly process through everything Spence just admitted. I never knew he thought this way, but now it all makes sense. The way he's avoided me for the past few days... the way he constantly apologizes for silly mistakes even though it's not that big of a deal... it all pieces together now.

"I wish you wouldn't say such lies," I finally answer him, placing my hand on the side of his face. Turning him toward me, I push my lips against his, smiling as he kisses back before pulling me into his lap and close to his chest. It's moments like these that I live for, that I dream about. I crave these moments day and night, and when they happen, nothing around me matters. All that matters is my lips on Spencer's, and his heart beating against my own.

Pulling away from the kiss, I rub my thumb against his cheek before finishing my sentence. "But you're all that I've ever wanted in my life," I continue, sighing blissfully while tears come to my eyes. "And if I'm being honest, you're perfect for me. I know that sounds selfish, but-"

Before I can keep on, Spencer's lips reattach themselves to mine again before his hands find their way into my hair. With Spencer finally making the move to kiss me after what feels like forever, I tearfully smile and wrap my arms around his neck, linking my hands together. Soon, we're both lying down on the couch with my body beneath Spencer's own perfect body.

Pulling away to breathe, Spencer smiles softly and sweetly at me, the entire room lighting up as he does so. "You're perfect for me too," He confesses, his voice gentle and calm. "I can't live without you. If you'll have me, I-I'd like to marry you one day," Spencer further concludes, making my eyes widen as everything around me comes to a halt.

"Are you asking me to marry you?" I ask, staring up at him with wide eyes. In response, Spencer gently smiles and nods.

"I don't want it to seem like this is a split-second decision I'll regret later because it isn't, and I know I'll never regret this," He begins, taking my hand in his. "But this feels so right. When thinking about being with you for the rest of my life, I thought maybe you wouldn't want me, but now... it just seems like the perfect moment to do this,"

Leaning back down, Spencer's lips hover over mine as he continues, my full name falling from his lips as I smile with tears in my eyes once again. "If you'll let me, I'd like to make you (Y/n) (M/n) Reid instead," he confesses, smiling. "The only thing I'd ever want to change about you is your last name," his comment makes me giggle before leaning up and attaching my lips to his, holding him closer once more.

"Yes, Spencer," I answer him, pulling back to stare into his beautiful hazelnut orbs. "A million times yes," I add, placing my hands on the sides of his face before kissing him again, my fingers running against the light stubble of his cheeks as his hands find their way to my waist. Once again, my lips are on Spencer's, and our hearts are beating against each other's, although this time, it feels as if our heartbeats are one in the same.

[atomicladytimetravel]

Employees Only

Summary: No outbreak AU. Joel Miller owns Miller Contracting and you are his assistant. When Joel gets the bid from a huge client, he celebrates by doing what any sane man would do…banging the assistant.

Warnings: Porn with very little plot. Drug use (marijuana), Boss/Employee relations, Smut/Explicit. Contains sex under the influence of marijuana, nipple play/stimulation, oral (f and m receiving) light gagging, fingering, Joel’s a little cocky about his dick (pun intended). Joel is a simp for you. No physical description of reader, other than female.

18+ only - MDNI

Friday. Fucking finally. Not only is it the end of your work week, but it’s also the end of you spending longer evenings than usual helping your boss put together a bid for one of the biggest clients he could ever hope to acquire. You can’t do any real complaining though - Joel made sure you were well compensated for your extra time and (let’s just face it) he sure is fun to look at. Not to mention the, you know, huge fucking crush you’ve had on the man for…well, for probably about as long as you’ve worked for him. Suffice to say, you’d do juuuuust about anything Joel asked you to do.

You’re making your way to your favorite hole-in-the-wall Chinese restaurant, the air conditioning in your car blasting to combat the sweltering Texas heat. You have to pass the small office building that houses Miller Contracting on your way to get to the Chinese place and, even though it’s damn near ten o’clock, Joel’s old pickup truck still sits in its usual parking space. Curious, you pull out your phone and select his name from your recent call log. He answers on the first ring.

“Now why are you callin’ me this late darlin’?” he drawls. His speech is raspy and a little slow; he sounds so fucking sexy.

“Oh no reason really, just wondering why I see your truck parked at the office,” you respond. He chuckles a little.

“You stalkin’ me or something?”

You smile and roll your eyes, even though he can’t see you.

“In your dreams, Miller,” you retort playfully. “I’m on my way to get some food and I just so happened to pass by.”

“Well, I was gonna wait until Monday and tell you in person, but…Avalon Premier Hotels accepted our bid.”

You can hear the grin in his voice and you hear yourself gasp.

“Joel, oh my god! That’s incredible news!” you squeal excitedly. On the other end of the call, Joel thinks to himself that he would very much like to hear those first four words again in a much different context.

Unbeknownst to you, Joel has been smitten since you stepped foot in his office for the first time. He internally cursed his HR department that day for hiring the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. But they had done just as he’d asked and hired the best damn person for the job. Joel has told you on more than one occasion that he has no idea how he made it without you.

“I’m just over here celebrating a little. The sound system Tommy insisted we put in the employee lounge outdoes mine by a long shot and I wanted to hear some music,” he explains further. “You should come join me. You know I couldn’t have done this without you.”

You look down at your outfit - a tank top, no bra and a pair of what are quite possibly the shortest shorts you own - and contemplate the offer. You remember you’re off the clock and think, “the hell with it, he can’t dress code me now.”

“Sure,” you accept. “You want some Chinese food?”

——————

When you open the front door to the office, you’re immediately hit by the pungent aroma of marijuana. Ah, now his slow, raspy speech makes sense. When you enter the employee lounge, you find Joel manspread on the couch, a fat blunt dangling from his lips. He’s changed out of the button up you had drooled over all day and into a Miller Contracting t-shirt that hugged his delicious biceps. Nirvana is playing loudly over the sound system and he doesn’t realize you’re there until you plop the food down on the coffee table. His eyes rake over your body unashamedly and you find yourself blushing under his gaze. He reaches for the remote and turns the music down.

“God damn sugar, I didn’t realize I’d be gettin’ dinner and a show.”

“It’s like 103 degrees right now Joel. Besides, I’m off the clock,” you remind him, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Hey, ain’t sayin’ it’s a bad thing,” he winks. You eye him suspiciously, but he just smiles innocently. He pats the couch cushion next to him and when you sit down, he holds the blunt to your lips. “You deserve t’relax a little, too.”

You take the blunt between your lips and inhale the smoke, holding it for a few seconds before exhaling through your nose. You’re not exactly a stranger to pot, but it has been a while since you’ve smoked any. It doesn’t take long at all for the foggy feeling to take over, your body feeling weightless. The munchies kick in soon after, and you and Joel practically inhale the Chinese food. As you eat, another blunt is passed back and forth and you’re soon the highest you can ever remember being.

Joel cleans up the remnants of your dinner and you sink into the couch cushions, your fuzzy brain content to just stare at nothing. When he returns, he sits so close to you that your thighs touch. He leans back and throws his arm around the cushion behind you. You’re close enough to smell his cologne and that plus the fact that he’s so close makes you want him, bad.

“This may have been a bad idea. Weed makes me so horny,” you say. You had wholeheartedly intended for that to be a thought and not something you said aloud to your boss. You’re mortified when you realize that the words actually came out of your mouth. Before you can even attempt to apologize, though, Joel responds.

“Oh yeah? You want some help with that?” He looks down at you expectantly and you stare back at him blankly for a moment before answering.

“I…y-yeah, yes,” you stammer. The next thing you know, you’re being pulled onto his lap; the fabric of your shorts is thin and you can feel just how hard he already is beneath the denim of his jeans. He kisses you with the passion of someone who’s been starved of affection. He holds you tightly close to his body, as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he doesn’t.

“Please tell me this is real,” he murmurs into the kiss.

“It’s real,” you giggle, resting your forehead against his.

“You are so pretty. Absolutely fuckin’ gorgeous,” he says softly. You kiss again, open mouthed and tongues swirling together. You grind your hips onto him, trying to relieve the aching between your thighs. He puts his hands on your hips to stop them.

“Ain’t gotta do all that now. I’ll take care of ya soon, understand?” he says sternly. You let out a tiny, pathetic whimper but nod in agreement. He shakes his head and uses his pointer finger to tap your lips.

“Use your words.”

“Yes, I understand,” you tell him.

“Yes what?” he asks, eyebrows raised expectantly.

“Yes sir.”

“That’s a good girl. Fuck, I just knew you would be. You want to be my good girl, hm?”

The whole time he’s been talking, his hands have been roaming farther and farther under your tank top. His fingertips brushing against your skin makes a shiver run down your spine.

“Yes sir,” you reply in a voice barely above a whisper.

He’s cupping your breasts now, thumbs swiping repeatedly over your nipples. The urge to grind on him again is overwhelming, but you hold still. You whine softly when he removes his hands and he shushes you.

“Relax sweet thing. I just want to get this shirt off of ya is all.”

He pushes the shirt up your torso and you raise your arms to let him pull it over your head. He groans appreciatively at the sight of your breasts and pushes them together before burying his face between them.

“So fuckin’ perfect,” he mumbles against your skin. He puts his mouth all over your breasts, sucking and nibbling and making you want to rock your hips so badly you can hardly stand it. You gasp softly when he latches on to your nipple, sucking until the bud has hardened. When he switches to the other side, you can’t help but roll your hips, craving some sort of relief.

“Ah, ah,” he admonishes, his hands holding onto your hips firmly. “What did I say?”

“I’m sorry,” you pout. “I just need you to touch me so bad sir.”

“Oh, is that all?” he teases, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. He pinches both nipples between his fingers gently. “How’s this?”

“It feels good, but I need more sir.”

“Hmmm…no, I think I’ll see if I can make you cum like this first.”

No one has ever tried to make you orgasm this way, and you’re not even sure it’s possible. You tell him this, but he just shakes his head.

“Can I try? If it doesn’t work for you, we can move on, I promise.”

“Yes sir, you can try.”

He smiles softly and presses a gentle kiss to your lips.

“I’m going to squeeze a little harder, just let me know if you start feelin’ anything besides good.”

It feels amazing. Pleasure surges through you and you tip your head back, your hands gripping onto his shoulders to keep you steady. He alternates between pinching and rolling and you concentrate on the throbbing between your legs. He squeezes just a bit harder and it feels so good that a drawn out moan passes through your lips.

“Yeah sugar? How’s that feel?” he asks.

“Good. R-really good,” you respond breathlessly. “Maybe a little harder.”

“How’s this baby?” he asks as he pinches a little harder. There’s a little pain this time, but it’s a delicious kind of hurt.

“Oh!” you gasp, surprised to feel the stirrings of an orgasm. “Don’t stop please, it feels so good.”

“You’re doing so good baby,” he praises, leaning forward to press a kiss to your throat. He keeps the pressure and rolls your sensitive nipples between his fingers. Your eyes flutter and your orgasm is so close you can taste it.

“You’re close aren’tcha? What a good girl; go ahead and let it go baby.”

With his encouragement, an orgasm washes over you and you hear yourself shouting his name. With one hand still tweaking a nipple, he wraps an arm around your waist to keep you steady as you shake above him. When you come down, your eyes open to see Joel looking at you with a mix of awe and adoration.

“That was the most beautiful god damn thing I’ve ever seen,” he says before capturing your lips in a needy kiss. He sets you gently back on the couch and stands above you, squeezing the length of his cock through his jeans.

“God damn, I swear I stay hard for you,” he groans. “You know how many times I’ve shot my load thinkin’ ‘bout you?”

“Probably as many times as I’ve made myself cum thinking about you.”

“You mean we coulda been doin’ this all along?” he asks, still palming himself through his jeans. You lean back into the corner of the couch and press your middle finger to your clit over your shorts while you watch him; something about the action turns you on so much.

“You’re my boss Joel,” you point out.

“I also own this company doll. I can do whatever I want,” he reminds you. He pulls his shirt over his head and you finally get to see the body you’ve been fantasizing about for so long. His shoulders are broad and his arms are thick. His midsection is soft, but you can still see v-lines disappearing into his jeans. He undresses down to his boxer briefs and you watch, mesmerized, when he slowly pulls his belt through its loops. You’re not sure if you’ve ever been more turned on. He kneels in front of you and taps your hip, signaling for you to lift them.

“Up,” he commands. You lift your hips and he hooks his fingers in the waistband of your shorts. He drags them down your legs and is pleasantly surprised to see your lack of panties.

“No bra, no panties? What a naughty girl,” he tuts.

“Told ya I was dressed for comfort.”

He doesn’t respond, just tosses the shorts aside and admires your naked form.

“I can’t get over how gorgeous you are,” he says, shaking his head. He showers your body with kisses, sucking occasionally on your most sensitive places. You’ll be covered in hickeys later, splotchy red and purple reminders of how Joel worships your body. He places his palms on the insides of your knees and spreads them, giving himself a view of your glistening pussy. He spreads your lips with his first two fingers to admire what he considers a work of art.

“Look how pretty,” he murmurs. Before you can utter a response, he leans in and licks you from opening to clit. He alternates between this and kitten licking your clit and you have to fight yourself to not start riding his face.

“Fuck, you got the sweetest little pussy darlin’,” he groans into your center. He hooks his arms behind your knees and begins to eat you out with fervor. He swirls patterns on your clit with his tongue, dipping it into your entrance every now and then. You’re enjoying it too much to notice that he spells “J O E L” on your clit with his tongue, silently claiming your pussy as his.

“Mmm, fuck Joel, it feels so good,” you whine. You feel two thick fingers slide into your entrance and you buck your hips at the sensation. He flattens his free hand over your belly and pins you to the couch cushions. He curls his fingers into your g-spot as his tongue continues to flick over your clit and your moans mix with the wet squelching sounds of your pussy.

“Joel, oh my god!” you shout, your head falling back onto the arm of the couch. And there they were, those four words he’d wished to hear just over an hour ago. He’s never heard anything so beautiful in his life. You hear him moan and you lift your head to watch him. His eyes are hooded and his free hand is in his boxers stroking his cock. It’s undoubtedly one of the hottest things you’ve ever witnessed.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Oh god I’m so close,” you moan. He sucks your clit once, twice and on the third time, you come apart for him. He can’t help the satisfied smile on his face as he watches you tremble, his name tumbling from your lips like a chant. When he pulls his fingers out, they’re shiny with your spend. He spreads them apart and a string of fluid connects them.

“Look at the mess you made for me baby,” he marvels. He brings his fingers to your lips and you open for him; you suck his fingers clean, never breaking eye contact. You hear him moan softly when you swirl your tongue around the digits. He stands and you can see how painfully hard he is through his boxer briefs. You can’t help but stare at the outline of his cock, wondering how he walks around with that thing between his legs. He sees you staring and smirks.

“You wanna see my cock baby?” he asks.

“Yes sir,” you nod, blushing a little at being caught staring. You watch in anticipation as he pulls his underwear down, cock springing free and practically smacking him in the stomach. Your eyes widen when you see his size. He’s thick and probably around eight or nine inches. He wraps a hand around it and strokes a few times.

“Think you can put it in your mouth for me? I wanna see those pretty lips around my cock,” he says, smoothing his other hand over your hair.

“Yes sir, wanna make you feel good,” you respond obediently, sitting up from your reclined position.

“Oh, what a good girl,” he praises. You wrap your lips around his tip and suck the precum seeping out.

“Oh fuuuuuck baby girl,” he rasps. You hollow out your cheeks and slowly inch him in your mouth. You put your hands on his hips as you bob your head back and forth. His hand flies to your hair when you pull all the way back to his tip before plunging him down your throat. You gag a little bit and pull back some, tears prickling at your eyes. You repeat the process until there are tears trickling down your cheeks.

“Shit baby, you give such good fuckin’ head,” he says through gritted teeth. “Look at ya, chokin’ on my cock.”

He lets you gag a few more times before he pulls your head back gently. He looks down at you sweetly and wipes the tears from your cheeks before offering his hand to help you up.

“You did so good f’me baby, gaggin’ on this big cock like a pro. I wanna stuff that pretty pussy now, though. Get on your knees f’me.”

You settle onto your knees, resting your palms on the back of the couch. A stinging smack lands on your right ass cheek and you moan.

“There’s that gorgeous ass I love to look at,” he says, squeezing it appreciatively. He lays his palm flat on your lower back, his other hand wrapping around the base of his cock. He pushes the tip into your entrance and your walls stretch around him. He’s a bit bigger than anything you’ve taken before and it stings for just a moment, making you whimper.

“I know it’s big baby girl. I’m gonna go slow,” he coos. He rubs his thumbs in soothing circles on your hips as he inches himself inside.

“You’re doin’ so good, takin’ me so well,” he praises.

“Oh fuck, I’m so full,” you moan when he’s fully sheathed inside you.

“Yeah baby? You like bein’ full of my big cock?”

“God yeah, it feels so good.”

He squeezes your hips affectionately as he sets a languid pace. He’s only been inside you for a minute and you know that no other man will be good enough ever again.

“Fuck, this is the best god damn pussy I’ve ever had,” he says, as if reading your mind. “Like it was made just for me.”

You begin to push back and meet his thrusts, your bodies moving in sync. His grip on your ass is so tight that you’re sure half moon shaped indentions will be left behind from his fingernails.

“That’s it baby, bounce back on my dick,” he grits out. He smacks your ass and groans appreciatively as it ripples underneath his palm. “Does it feel good baby, hmm? Tell me how good it feels, lemme hear you.”

“F-feels so good. You’re making my little pussy feel s-so fucking good.”

He grabs your shoulder and pulls you up so that your bodies are flush; he moves your hair aside and puts his lips to your ear as his thrusts become faster and more aggressive.

“I’m gonna destroy your pussy this weekend baby,” he says in a gravelly whisper. “I’ve been waitin’ so long. Might have to carry you into work Monday.”

“Oh god, please,” you mewl in response.

“Yeah baby? You’d like that huh, takin’ this cock all weekend?”

“Yes, oh god yes, your cock feels so good!”

He reaches around to toy with your clit and your head falls back onto his shoulder.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you pant. He rubs your clit faster, pressing a frenzied kiss to your lips.

“That’s it, give it to me baby girl. Cum all over my cock.”

You grab onto his forearm to steady yourself as you cum hard around him. He talks you through it, whispering lowly in your ear.

“There ya go baby, let it go. Doing so good f’me darlin’.”

Once you’ve come back to earth, he pulls out gently and sits down on the couch. He takes you by the hand and guides you to straddle him again.

“I wanna see you baby,” he explains. “You’re a fuckin’ goddess.”

You sink onto his cock and he rests his hands on your hips. He guides your hips back and forth slowly and it feels so good that you attempt to speed up.

“No baby, let’s go slow,” he says, looking into your eyes. “Just enjoy this with me, yeah?”

You smile softly, saying, “yes sir” before grabbing his face and kissing him. His arms wrap around your torso and he holds you close, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck.

“I want you to be my girl. Tell me you’ll be my girl baby.”

You respond without hesitation, “I’m yours Joel, all yours.”

The two of you share another kiss; Joel can no longer hold back and he plants his feet firmly on the ground so that he can thrust up into you.

“Can’t believe I get to call you mine,” he pants. “My pretty fuckin’ girl.”

“Oh god,” you whimper as he pounds into your g-spot. “Joel, fuck baby, I’m so close.”

“Me too baby girl. Should I pull out?”

“No! I want you inside me. Fuck, I want to feel you cum inside me so bad.”

“God damn, dirty little thing,” he grunts. “Gonna fill this little pussy so much.”

“Oh god, I’m cumming,” you announce, clenching around his cock. A chorus of, “fuck yes, fuck yes, fuck YES,” comes from your mouth. Joel makes a deep, guttural sound and spills inside of you, hugging your trembling body tight.

“Shit,” you giggle breathlessly.

“Yeah? Good?” he asks hopefully, just as breathless as you are.

“Good? Amazing. Incredible.”

He grins and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I could actually go again. How about you let me take you back to my place and I’ll put you in my jetted tub, hm? We’ll take a nice bath, maybe smoke a little more and then I’ll fuck you to sleep. How’s that sound?”

It’s your turn to grin and you give him a long, burning kiss.

“Sounds like an offer I can’t pass up.”

[zumicho]

home┊002┊004

003: monsters under the bed

© zumicho all rights reserved. do not repost, modify, steal, plagiarize, or translate my works on any platform.

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[ RINTARO POV ]

“do you think we’re bad people?”

she stumbles into my room, dispatching yellow tinted light to disrupt the peaceful darkness of my sleep. If she were a different person, it would’ve been a problem. It’s unexplainable why I can’t bring myself to treat her the same way I treat everyone else. 

yelling and exaggerated laughter spill in from outside - a sign that my teammates haven't stopped abusing the ‘freeflow sake’ perk we were gifted by reception. I was lucky enough to slip out before it got too crazy; from the looks of it–she wasn’t. 

her head tilts, a supposedly small movement, but it does wonders. she frowns down at me–and for a minute I think it’s my bedhead. 

“..what?” 

“you didn’t answer my question.” oh.

"'bad' is subjective."

and she pouts, amplifying her already apple-red cheeks.

"do you think I'm a bad person?" I ask.

our hands brush together as she leans over the bedframe, conducting a scientific analysis of my nose (it feels like). "yes."

"why--"

"you invited me over, but you only really talked to me at the door. saying hi when you let me in and ignoring me for the rest of the night makes you a terrible host. and a bad person." I would usually laugh at someone this drunk, but no one's ever been this offended that I didn't talk to them. I sit up, guilt stabbing at my side.

"I would try and make it up to you," I squint at the clock above the window. "I can't think of anything other than walking you home though." that earns me a sigh.

"unless you want to sleep over." my mouth has a mind of its own. "there's only one bed in this room." her liquid courage is contagious.

she bites at her bottom lip, and I stare. I'm not ashamed. I'm just being relatable. atsumu would agree. anyone else would do the same. this is normal. not just me.

"no." her hands meet her hip, a failed attempt at being stern. "that would make me a bad person too." she lectures, all the while crawling under the covers and laying her head on the pillow beside mine. aran's going to complain in the morning, but that's a tiny price to pay for this view.

an hour passes, and I think she's asleep, but as I close my eyes, I find out we were both awake. her fingers intertwine with mine as she whispers: "are there monsters under the bed?"

I smile. real & big. "you're baby in a grown woman's body." is all the sarcasm I can manage. looking at me through her eyelashes, all starry-eyed in a I-could-kiss-you-right-here-and-now-but-that-would-absolutely-destroy-the-both-of-us kind of way, she asks, "so you don't believe in monsters?" "I do. but I bet they'd be scared of me," I joke. I swear her grip on my hand tightens, and she's closer than she was. maybe it's just hopeful imagination.

I’ve never been akin to commitment; why is it now that I feel the need to change? 

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ib: @/wipsbymaya on tiktok, it’s embarrassing how much inspiration I get from that app but it birthed this so I guess it’s not so embarassing

author’s note: how we feeling chat

@phoenix-eclipses @thechaosoflonging @yuminako @nbcvs @tenjikusstuff4 @intergalacticrory @sonicsolos @yenonnoff @wyrcan @cnnmairoll @causenessus @reads-stuff-quietly @giocriedpower @applepi25 @gra-eae @lilchubbyyy @thvvluvr @toges-cough-syrup @steiins

[takusan-no-ai]

Can’t Fix Her

PAIRING: Aura x Male Reader (Romantic) (Fluff)

SUMMARY: Aura never would’ve guessed she’d fall for a powerful mage human.

(Y/N) was fast asleep in his tent, having placed a protective barrier around himself. The cold air kept him in a deep slumber, so deep he didn’t realize until it was too late what had happened.

Bandits. They were barely average mages, but they still clearly knew a thing or two. They removed the barried surrounding (Y/N)’s tent, and tried to rob him. He awoke immediately, already pointing his finger towards the trespassers.

“What? Are we supposed to be scared of a little finger?” One of them had said, not bothering to quiet down his voice. (Y/N) moved his finger towards his own lips, shushing the group.

They all looked at him bewildered. “Unlike mine, your mana is quite small. The barrier was hiding my mana so I could sleep peacefully.” (Y/N) spoke in a just barely audible whisper. “I have to work tomorrow morning…killing demons that is.”

It was like a sudden dread had befallen the group of bandits as they put two and two together; he was here to kill demons and had to hide his mana, meaning they were right next to a demon camp. The moment they opened the tent door, hundreds of figures stood before them. All headless soldiers armored from the ground and up.

And at the center of it all stood the infamous Aura The Guillotine. She had her usual smirk with her Scales of Obedience in hand. The bandits cowered behind (Y/N) as he stood before her, staff in hand.

Aura’s eyebrows twitched in annoyance, her face losing its color, and her hands shaking in a cold sweat. His mana was unlike anything she’d ever seen. It was even comparable to that woman; Serie.

“Kill—?!” Aura couldn’t even finish her command. Her troops were dwindling right before her eyes, all of them falling immobile. She fell to her knees. The distraught was plain to see on her face. (Y/N) had finished killing them all and strode up towards her.

“You’re not the demon I was after, but I can use you to make them all surrender as I execute them. You’ll be making my job a whole lot easier.”

She snarled, “I’ll never help a worthless human!” (Y/N) sighed. He pointed his staff at her, the light gone from his eyes. The only thing reflected in them was Aura herself. And what she saw pissed her off; she was scared…and blushing.

“Wait! What do you mean you weren’t after her?” One of the bandits asked. (Y/N) slowly turned around to face him while keeping a firm grip on Aura.

“She was following you. She would have eaten you the moment you went to sleep. You’re too weak to join her army, so your only worth is being her dinner.” He answered coldly. The bandits shifted their gaze warily towards Aura. She smiled at them. The fear they felt reached an all time high as they all collectively booked it out of there.

Now alone, (Y/N) crouched down towards Aura. “Either help me or die. Your choice.” Aura couldn’t believe she was considering helping him. But his power was undeniably greater than hers, or any demon she knows for that matter. Plus, she couldn’t deny how attractive that power seemed; to be even stronger than their dead king, and just a human at that?

Aura blushed. “With you by my side, I’d have every demon and human alike cowering before me.” She boldly stated. (Y/N) frowned.

“I’m your master. Get it wrong again and I’ll amputate you.”

Despite saying that, he still gave Aura a hand and lifted her up. Immediately he put a binding spell on her and walked towards his mission.

…

…

Some months had passed since their first meeting, and Aura had been a headache. Every. Single. Day. Trying to eat humans, biting constantly on (Y/N), and an attitude problem. Yet (Y/N) still put up with it.

The duo were currently relaxing in an old shack outside of town; (Y/N) would have gotten a room at a bar, but Aura being a well known demon made that impossible.

“Aura, get off.” (Y/N) could feel his blood vessel ready to pop. Aura was siting in his lap as he read a grimoire. Her horns kept almost poking him in the eyes, and for a small woman she was heavy.

“But I’m sooooo bored! If only some totally not heartless human would spare a moment to entertain his minion.” She was blatantly telling him to pay attention to her.

He smirked. “I didn’t realize a demon could be so damn needy.” Aura glared at him, scales in hand.

“Don’t tempt me.”

“What? You’d lose and be even more of a servant to me.”

“Hmph!” Aura grew increasingly annoyed with (Y/N). “Is it so wrong for me to want to be the focus of my favorite human?” She mumbled. “Power like yours is rare to come by. And I want to make it and its owner mine.”

“Make me yours?” He leaned over Aura, pining her between the table and himself. “But you’re mine.” He eyed her down, smiling all the while. Aura blushed ever so slightly and leaned forward.

“Prove it.”

- Fin

[eliza-and-her-monsters]

the tortured poets department

Vi x reader

Info Post

Moodboards

Part I

Next Part

TW: Brief mentions of mental illness (anxiety, PTSD), military induced injuries, self harm, hospitals, death, and fighting.

WC: 5k

Part II

the black dog

“Alright, pick your poison, doll.” Vi spoke the moment we made it to the packed bar, my hands already shakily pulling at the long sleeves of the flannel.

“Umm, I don’t really know much about alcohol besides whenever Caitlyn used to steal from our parents stash whenever we were younger.” I shrugged a bit, glued to the counter for dear life.

“Well, let’s see… did you like something more sweet or sour or-”

“I think I don’t mind a little bit of sour.” I spoke up, cheeks glowing with a slightly embarrassed flush, meanwhile the permanent smirk on Vi’s face never seemed to slip as she turned towards the bartender.

“I think I’ve got something you’ll like.” She voiced before waving him over. A few moments later I held onto a orange colored fruity drink called a Rum Runner that seemed to be the perfect combo of sweet and sour. I guarded it for dear life as she lead me towards the jukebox tucked in the corner away from the dancing uni students in which the bar staff had cleared out an entire space now being used as a makeshift dance floor.

Vi passed off a shiny coin for the jukebox in her hand once we reached it, leaning a casual shoulder against the wall. “Give ‘em hell.”

My own little grin stretched on my face as I took the coin with a flourish, twisting it in my fingers as I weighed the options in my head. “Now, with great power comes great responsibility. Or whatever it is Kurt Cobain said.” I joked just before sliding in the coin to its slot just before the screen lit up to display the option to cue up a song.

“Well, I also hear that Kurt Cobain was a bit of a liar so-” I heard her whispering in my ear nearly causing me to shiver. I don’t think I had ever been so close to another girl’s lips before the moment I turned my head to face her. Hands freezing on the dial as if awaiting them to press to mine.

Vi was patient though, testing the waters but not moving out too deep. Though I wasn’t sure if it was respectful or teasing as I flicked my doe eyes upwards to meet hers. And it was then I noticed the tattoo inked just below her eye along her cheekbone, either a number 6 in roman numerals or her nickname. Perhaps even both. A few tattoos of various gears crawled out from underneath her leather jacket, and I had the sudden urge to reach my hand out and brush my fingers along the inked lines.

“You know, one of my sister’s first criminology reports was on the conspiracy theory of if Courtney Love killed Kurt Cobain or not.” I muttered almost nervously, it’s what I did whenever I got flustered, I usually found something to say about Caitlyn. So far the tactic had been unsuccessful though. Turns out talking about how your sister was much better and smarter than you in every way was a turn off. Not that I had been in really a ton of situations to warrant me getting flustered, but I was definitely flustered now.

Vi’s muscular chest stood right at eye level as she stretched herself back up to her normal height. Still so close, like she was hovering. “And her conclusion?”

“Inconclusive.” I answered, finally getting myself to spin around and face the jukebox once more. My brain had suddenly gone blank of all music so I quickly decided to queue up Heart-Shaped Box. “She still got an A.” I added with a little sigh before I could spin away from it to finally free up the space.

“She’d make an excellent lawyer.” Vi almost laughed as she shoved her hands into her pockets.

“Maybe if she wasn’t so obsessed with working in the field… doing all the dangerous stuff, you know, running into the line of fire-”

“Okay you know detective work isn’t like in all the movies and crime shows, right? Caitlyn’s gonna be just fine. She can hold her own, you know that.” Vi stated, her hand being pressed to my lower back in some attempt to comfort me whenever it only just felt like it was sparking my crush-induced nerves all over again. Or maybe it was too soon to call it a crush? I wasn’t entirely sure what a crush was even supposed to feel like.

From the same table I could already hear a hefty amount of arguing and chatter as I sipped away at my fruity drink, an offended groan breaking from Ellie’s mouth as she snatched up what looked like a tarot card from another spread already laid on the table. “Mills, can you believe what Jinx’s tarot deck just called me?!” She exclaimed as she held up the card with an almost comical pout.

“The Fool?” I wondered with a head tilt. “I don’t think that’s what that means.”

“I told you it’s not.” Jinx huffed as she stood up to pluck the card from Ellie’s fingers. “The Fool represents innocence, new beginnings, you’re a free spirit… a little naïve, definitely not level-headed. Are you a water sign by any chance?” She wondered curiously as she seemed to study her face.

“Sagittarius.” She answered with a scowl causing Jinx to nod.

“Actually, you know what, that makes sense.”

“Why? Literally what does that mean? I’m not a zodiac gay!” Ellie exclaimed almost as if the conversation was stressing her out.

“Try living with her, she blames most of her problems on ‘mercury’ being in ‘retrograde’.” Vi went on with her fingers raised in quotations. I couldn’t help but lean forward curiously to scan the rest of Ellie’s spread. The Wheel of Fortune and six of cups in reverse… interesting.

“Vi, can I have a word?” Caitlyn spoke up from her spot across the table next to a boy with strikingly white hair who seemed to be leaning into Jinx every opportunity he got.

The chorus of sounds that sprung up from the table was reminiscent of a primary school classroom whenever someone gets called to the office. It was almost comforting to know the childlike aire of people never seemed to fade in university. It wasn’t comforting to hear Caitlyn’s request however as she pushed her slender body up to her feet.

Vi only took it all in stride though, meeting her with an equally as hard stare as she followed suit. “Why not? Lead the well.”

“I will.” Caitlyn added, whipping around to head towards the stairs leading towards the first level of the pub.

“Oh this is way better than tarot.” Jinx responded after only a quick passing moment before flying out of her seat so fiercely I almost thought she was going to knock the entire couch over. “C’mon new girl, you’re probably gonna wanna hear this.”

My breath hitched in my throat as she managed to hoist me up to my feet. My hands instantly darting outwards to grip Ellie’s wrist to drag her along with me, naturally. “Ow, Millie! That hurts!” She winced as she wrestled her arm out of my grip. “Don’t worry, I’m right behind you.”

Jinx immediately flashed us a stern look with a finger to her lips before she could climb the stairs. A duo of voices already carrying from around the corner where the two stood. “What part about ‘off limits’ do you not understand?!” Caitlyn was snapping immediately as she crossed her arms across her chest.

“Your sister is a grown adult, Caitlyn, you don’t have to play protector 24/7 anymore!”

“Oh that’s fucking rich coming from you.” Caitlyn practically sneered.

“It really is.” Jinx mouthed back to the two of us.

“Is it, Cait? Because even I tried to be semi normal with Jinx after all of our trauma and let’s not act like there wasn’t a hefty amount of it. What is this actually about, Caitlyn? Be honest. Is this about her or us?” My heart seemed to lurch in my chest at the one singular word. Us? What did she mean by ‘us’? Did I even want to know what she meant? Was it stupid to feel the sudden crushing weight of that one tiny word?

From one step below me I could feel Ellie’s fingers lacing through mine in a silent declaration. I’ve got you. No matter where this conversation leads I’ve got you.

“There is no ‘us’, Violet. There never has been and there never will be. And even if there was you know damn well I’d choose her happiness over mine every single fucking day. Got that? You don’t get to hurt her. I swear to god if you hurt her-”

“What am I actually going to do, Caitlyn? Do you think I’m this big bad supervillain-”

“I’m talking about your underground dealings! Your little underground fighting ring that Sevika somehow still lets go on even though someone was literally killed-”

“Keep your voice down!” Vi exclaimed in a whisper yell as she held up a finger, eyes encircling around the area as if looking for somebody. Such as three meddling freshmen hiding behind a corner. “We have company.”

“You guys go, I’ll take the fall.” Jinx whipped around to shoo us away. Ellie was already grabbing my arm, wanting to waste no time.

“A-Are you sure?” I stammered, a little bit more hesitant as I slowly let Ellie pull me down the stairs.

“It’s okay, won’t be the first time I’ve been caught, won’t be the last.” Jinx shrugged before slipping off into view and I finally let Ellie tug me from view just in time to see my sister’s cold blue eyes peering around the corner to investigate.

“Holy shit…” Ellie let out a long gust of air as she pressed an anxious hand to her chest. “I feel like I just got sucked into a thriller dark romance dark academia novel or something. Sevika has an underground fighting ring? S-Someone died!?”

“Who’s Sevika?” I wondered, my mind slipping into several directions all at once as I lifted a hand to my lips as if to bite my already chipped nails.

“Sevika’s our coach. She’s hard as shit, doesn’t take crap from anybody which is needed because we have a couple spoiled nepo babies on the team.” Ellie seethed a bit to herself before letting her eyes briefly glance over towards the same blonde haired woman who had supposedly ‘knocked her lights out’ during practice. “Are you okay? I know that was probably a lot.” She gently wrapped her hand around my upper arm as if to ground me in some way. And I hadn’t realized how badly my heart was pounding so intensely until I finally felt it behind my ribs. “Mills, you’re shaking.”

“Yeah I um- I think I just need some air.” I stammered, swallowing a dry lump down my throat. Ellie’s slid a protective arm around me before my knees could buckle as she pulled me towards the back door. Tangling my fingers up into her flannel as I wrapped an arm around her waist.

I gulped down a heavy dose of chilly night air the moment she pushed through the double back doors. From above us a lively back patio stretched on, tufts of smoke filtering downstairs through the gaps of the railing. I felt something plastic and metal at the same time being pressed into my hand. My seldomly used inhaler that I frequently forgot… and Ellie and Caitlyn never did. With a shuddering gasp I placed the opening between my lips and sent a gust of the medicated air through my lungs.

“You okay?” Ellie spoke up once the tense moment had passed.

Ellie wasn’t nearly as tall as Caitlyn or even Vi, in fact she was exceedingly average. Still I had to catch myself tilting my head upwards to meet her eyes as my own furrowed together in worry. “Are you okay?” I directed the question back at her as I lifted a hand to place against her freckled cheek.

Ellie sighed and encircled a hand around my forearm as if to hold it in place. “I- I don’t know… I guess. It’s just- I-I thought this shit only happened in books and movies and stuff.” She frowned, running a hand through her unkempt hair before whirling around to take a seat on a nearby ledge that encircled a mostly dead garden. Slowly I trailed over to take the spot next to her causing her eyes to lift towards me ever so slightly. “Millie?”

“Hmmm?” I hummed in response as I laid my head against her shoulder.

“Promise… Promise me if you do get involved with her that you’ll be safe? I mean I know I make a lot of jokes and I talk a lot of shit but- if something actually happened to you, i-if I lost you I-”

“Ellie-“ I shushed just before I could feel her voice break, slipping my arms around her shoulder as I pulled her in closer with a tight squeeze. It wasn’t like her to get emotional too often, it definitely wasn’t like her to cry. Sometimes I almost wondered what she was like before she met me, if there was any correlation to be found. But I knew she had been through a lot.

All of the doctors and nurses at the retreat we were at mainly kept her diagnosis at PTSD, she referred to it as that even herself. She was a US Army veteran who had been stationed in the UK and sometimes I wondered if my parents hated her strictly for that reason alone. Sometimes I almost thought about why she was discharged too and what could’ve really been behind it. An explosion near base that left her with a gunshot wound to the side, a perforated eardrum, a traumatic brain injury, and a shit ton of shrapnel scarring that she now had covered up by a tattoo that spanned the length of her forearm. If anyone knew pain it was Ellie.

I hadn’t been able to stop crying the night she told me and even then I felt bad because of how she comforted me during the whole thing. It should’ve been the other way around and I knew that. But I still thought it could’ve attested to the kind of person she was. And a lot of the times I looked at my own measly self inflicted scars and wondered how I even deserved to stand next to her.

“You are the only good thing that has ever happened to me, Amelia.” She muttered as she leaned her head against mine with a long and shaking breath.

“Ellie, love.” I sighed as I placed another hand against her cheek to peer into her green eyes. “You aren’t on the battlefield anymore, nothing’s going to happen to me or you. I promise. You’re safe now.”

“I hope so.” She whispered after another moment of hesitation. Carefully she wrapped her hand around my wrist and I tried to ignore the sting in my heart once she removed my hand from her face. “We should be careful, in case Vi comes out here. You do like, you know, like her, right?”

“I don’t know.” I answered as I leaned back on my hands slightly. “She’s certainly a looker. But I just- what if it’s too soon to tell? How do you even know whenever you fancy someone?”

“That little ache you felt in your chest whenever Vi called her and Caitlyn an ‘us’? That’s one way you can tell.” Ellie answered as she gave my ankle a little nudge with her combat boots.

“How did you know, you creep?” I nearly giggled as I looked towards her with a lifted brow.

“Because I’m your best friend? Plus, that’s also whenever you started reaching for my hand.”

“I didn’t think I- I thought you grabbed my hand-“

“I did, because you started reaching for it. I mean, either way it does kind of check out doesn’t it?“

“Yeah… I guess you might be right.” I huffed, gnawing on my bottom lip as I fought the urge to stretch my fingers out to Ellie’s all over again. Before I could make contact though the back door swung open once more causing both of our heads to turn in unison.

“So, how much did you hear?” Vi said simply as she strode outside, still as calm and collected as possible with her hands shoved into her pockets once more.

“Oxford has an underground fighting ring?” Ellie blurted out before I could even construct some way to cover up our probably suspicious disappearance. If I wasn’t curious enough myself though I probably would’ve rolled my eyes. She was already a pretty shitty liar though.

“You surprised?” Vi wondered next with a slightly tilted head.

“Why were you so secretive about it in the hallway if you’re being so casual now?” Ellie wondered next, almost rather bravely as she fiddled with the evil eye bracelet around her wrist.

“I didn’t want the wrong person to hear.” She added, her blue eyes briefly sweeping over to me before she took the seat on my other side immediately causing Ellie to tense up almost protectively. “Whatever you think it is though, it isn’t… generally.”

“Caitlyn said somebody died though-“ Ellie stammered next in disbelief.

“It was a freak accident. It had nothing to do with the fighting or- or anything like that.” She propped her elbows up on her knees, sore subject it seemed. Vi knew more than what she was letting on though, neither of us seemed willing to push at the moment however.

A moment of hesitation passed before Ellie cleared her throat and shook her head, “I think I’m gonna go back in, I’m freezing my dick off out here.” Ellie remarked as she pushed herself up to her feet and let her eyes scan over me briefly. “You gonna be okay?”

The thought of being alone with Vi only made it feel like my heart was being sent into overdrive all over again. I didn’t even know why the thought of being alone with someone I liked scared me so much. She was older, more experienced, hard and cold yet inviting at the same time. A curious kind of inviting. “Yeah, I-I’ll be okay.” I stuttered with a nod.

“Okay, call me… if you change your mind.” Her hands curled into fists briefly, like she herself was about to change her mind. Something else lingering, but whatever it was she didn’t act on it. Only turning her head to drag herself to the door.

“You know there’s definitely some sexual tension between you two, right?” Vi questioned as she pulled a half used pack of cigarettes from the pocket of her ripped black skinny jeans.

“Excuse me?” I questioned in shock with my jaw neatly dropping. “But Ellie’s- Ellie’s not-“

“Don’t try to tell me she’s not a lesbian.”

“Oh no, she’s definitely a lesbian.” I almost snickered, the thought of Ellie ever being with a man nearly sending me into fits. “But just so you’re aware, two lesbians can definitely have a super close friendship and not be in a romantic relationship.” I huffed in response as I crossed my arms and shook my head. “I mean honestly, I’m really starting to question your intentions.”

“Oh doll, you should always question my intentions.” I nearly shivered at her words. A tremor shooting through my legs that I hadn’t felt before leaving me clamping them shut as if to silence the irregular feeling.

“So… do you just have a thing for Kirammans or something?” I wondered, wringing my hands on my lap in some way to think of something else. Anything else.

Vi scoffed and rolled her eyes with a shake of her head, “Yeah I was waiting for that one to come up.”

“I mean it’s a valid question, is it not?”

“Caitlyn and I slept together a few times last year… that’s all we did, that’s all it was.” She placed a cigarette between her lips and lit up the end. “It was a hookup, a good hookup which is why we did it again but- it didn’t go any farther than that.“

Anxiously I fiddled with the ring on my finger, stimming in every way I could it seemed to distract from the clench in my chest as she described her relations with my sister. “So, why else would you be interested in me then?”

“I’ve seen you around occasionally. Whenever you go to games with Caitlyn or jack the university library where you either obsessively write on your computer or read some book that’s bigger than your entire forearm.”

“Do you watch me or something? Like a creep?” I couldn’t help but smirk slightly as I stole a glance over at her.

“You’re hard not to look at.” She answered, blue eyes meeting mine as she withdrew a long puff of smoke from her lips, the cigarette dangling in between her fingers haphazardly. That same churning feeling seeming to overtake my entire body now, my eyes briefly glancing down towards her lips for the most minuscule of seconds. Not minuscule enough for Vi not to notice though as I watched them curl up in a tiny smirk. “I saw that.”

“Saw what?” I murmured innocently, bringing a hand up to my lips to bite at my nails again. Vi only let out a chuckle of her own though before taking another drag of her cigarette.

“Nothing darlin’.” She added, the pet name causing my toes to curl in my Mary Janes. “Anyways, then from like, May through July you disappeared for a while. So I wondered if your parents might’ve actually let you take another year off or you managed to actually break the cycle of Oxford alumni.”

“Not quite.” My face fell at the mention of the summer’s events, catching my bottom lip between my teeth as I dropped my hand back towards my lap. “No, the uhhh… the summer was rough. But I met Ellie though so- I guess it worked out. I just, you know, wish it could’ve been under better circumstances. That’s why we aren’t a thing, if you’re wondering. It’s usually a bad idea to date the friend you meet whenever you’re in a psychiatric facility.”

Her expression seemed to come with a subtle understanding, softening momentarily as she flicked out the remainder of the cigarette. “S-Sorry, i-if I just trauma dumped on you o-or anything.”

“You didn’t. You aren’t.” Vi shook her head, rough fingers finally brushing on top of my fidgeting ones. I never knew it could feel so comforting having them stroking my knuckles in the way she did. “How are you now? Like… in the aftermath?”

I wanted to groan and fight and kick and scream at the frustrating sting that always crept into my eyes whenever someone would ask if I was okay. I should’ve been tired of hearing it by now. It shouldn’t have had an effect the way that it did but still somehow it had felt like forever that someone had actually asked me that. How are you afterwards? I know you went through hell. But how are you now?

“I think… all things considered, I could be worse. But- I think I could be better too.” I answered with a small shrug. A strange feeling of warmth seemed to envelop over me as she slid her fingers through mine. Each small touch inching closer and closer like she was giving me the chance to protest, to pull away, to do whatever I needed to do to feel comfortable. But I enjoyed her touches, her big hand overtaking mine and I wanted to feel it on my cheek, knotting through my hair, around my waist, against my thighs. Fuck, I didn’t understand why. “Vi.” I muttered her name like it was the only thing I knew how to say, lifting a shivering free hand but not knowing what to do with it, where to put it. What was I even supposed to do? “I-I’ve never done this before- f-felt this before. W-What do I do?”

“Shhh…” Vi whispered, softly brushing her finger underneath my chin so I had no choice but to look up at her. Transfixed in her blue eyes until I crumpled. “You don’t have to do anything.”

The last time I felt anything similar was with Ellie, over the summer, where I shouldn’t have felt for anything besides trying to get better. Even then it was completely different. Ellie was sunshine. Ellie was laughing and jokes and making all of the nurses’ lives hell as we snuck around the ward and fell asleep in each other’s beds.

Vi felt like the opposite. She was the moon. Hauntingly curious and dark. Like she was beckoning me forward with every subtle touch setting off sparks against my skin. She was a new experience, unfamiliar territory just begging to be explored.

“Tell me what you want.” I shivered as I felt her hand against my cheek and I didn’t know if it was the cold or just her. “If you want me to leave you alone, I’ll leave you alone. But if not-“

“Will you- W-Will you kiss me?” I stammered all over again, it was like I couldn’t get any of my words right as I kept shooting glance after glance at her lips. A noticeable scar running through her upper lip.

That same telling smirk crept back into her expression, my chest clenching as I watched her rise up to her feet as if she was about to tell me no. “You ever been kissed before?”

“Ummm… n-no, not really.”

“Not really?”

“No, n-no I haven’t.” I finally answered fully, peering down at my lap as if in shame. Waiting for the rejection. The declaration that I wasn’t at all what she wanted and the inevitable and probably unnecessary heartbreak that would follow afterwards.

“And you want me, some good for nothing chick you met at a bar to kiss you?”

“Why did you ask me what I want if you’re just going to challenge me about it!” I wondered as I finally launched myself off of the bench but I only lost all sense of authority once I realized our height difference again.

“I just want you to fully understand what you’re getting yourself into.”

“It’s just a kiss!”

“You seem like the kind of person who takes that thing kind of seriously.” Vi voiced with a casual shrug as if she already knew she was right. She didn’t have to ask for confirmation because she already saw right through me. It’s not like I haven’t had a ton of opportunities. I could’ve easily kissed Ellie now countless of times but I hadn’t because I knew what would happen afterwards. She’d look at it as ‘getting my first kiss out of the way’ and I’d probably just fall in love with her. How dangerous could it be to fall in love with somebody so quickly? I was a disaster, a ticking timebomb waiting to happen.

“You’re right, it’s stupid.” I spoke, finally pulling my eyes away from her to face the ground. My body was a tense wreck, my chest hurt, I was definitely going to get sick from being out in the cold for so long, and I didn’t see any good in staying out here for any longer.

I turned on my heel to head back inside as I tried to hide the disappointment and complete idiocy on my face. Before I knew it though I could already hear Vi clearing her throat from behind me, “Wait.” She ordered, and if that wasn’t enough to halt my steps I could feel her hand snaking around my wrist. My breath caught in my throat as I felt her whirling me around to face her with ease.

My body pressed to hers and suddenly I could feel every inch of every muscle beneath her clothes. Her hands overtook my waist, sliding around me until I couldn’t smell anything but the nicotine on her breath and the expensive cologne that wafted from her pulse points. Before I could even contemplate what was happening I could feel her lips on mine. A gasp froze in my throat as I registered what was happening, shivering gasps for air the moment she broke away, scanning my face as if to determine where I was. If I was okay. And before I knew it again I was clamoring for her lips once more.

My arm flew around her shoulder as if to hold myself up, not like her hands gripping my waist weren’t already doing a great job at that. I just wanted to touch her, seeking out her warmth. My hand slipping underneath her jacket as if to drag across the flimsy material of the wife pleaser she wore underneath. Her lips were so much softer than I could’ve ever predicted they would be, but electricity felt like it was coursing through my veins at the sensations of her pulling me in by the waist anytime our bodies naturally separated. It was warmth and disaster at the same time. A forest fire burning up all around me as our lips moved in sync. Her hands leaving a burning trail as they seemed to settle on my hips. God, how was I supposed to ever get enough whenever she felt like this?

My breathing came out in shaking gasps of air once our lips broke apart. The feeling without them was almost unnatural they felt so perfect and made for my own. I wanted more, I was desperate for more but too scared to speak the words as I stared up at her with widened eyes. “Vi…”

“Fuck, you say my name like it’s only meant for your lips alone.” She whispered, my hand curling against her chest as she traced the outline of my lips with her thumb. “Should probably get you inside before you freeze to death.”

My lips seemed to burn as she stepped away, every inch of the cold sweeping back into me as I nodded in response. Vi’s warm hand pressed to my back to lead me towards the back door and instinctively I couldn’t help but bring my hand up towards my lips that I could’ve sworn were still tingling.

She was going to ruin me, wasn’t she?

A/N: Elmelia girlies I have got some good shit cooking up for you next. Vimelia girlies also don’t stress though because I am nothing if not messy! 🖤

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Heel, Stay, and Shake.

🐦‍⬛ What’s this? A wild bird in our classroom? Now we can’t have that, can we? 🧪

By My Hand.

Raven didn’t know what to expect when Professor Crewel asked to see him after class. A summons from him typically meant one of two things: a thorough scolding or remedial work. Sometimes both.

She wasn’t the type for either. Raven kept her head down and behaved—and thus stood off to the side of his wrath. And now here she was, standing in the line of fire.

“Wooow, sucks to be you,” Ace had sneered on his way out. “The goody-two-shoes finally gets into trouble herself!”

“Leave her alone, Ace,” Deuce grumbled, “You don’t want to make things worse for her than they already are.”

Even the Prefect, Yuu—level-headed, neutral—had passed her a look of sympathy. But they cleared out of the laboratory the same as the rest, leaving Raven to her doom.

The heavy wooden door slammed shut, trapping her in with their teacher.

Crewel had traded his lab coat and safety goggles for his usual attire: a black and white color-blocked vest, black undershirt and slacks, smart shoes that clicked with every step, blood red gloves, socks, and tie. Over this, a striped fur coat with several tails, the insides a shocking scarlet.

He ran a hand through his hair—black slicked back, white in a graceful sweep of parted bangs. His eyes, a shade of iced onyx, dug into her like the teeth of a dog. Not enough to pierce the skin, but enough to threaten to.

She struggled not to tremble under his gaze. Raven knew it to be discerning and, more importantly, unrelenting in its critique.

“Crowley.”

“Y-Yes!!” Raven yelped, standing at attention. Her posture naturally corrected itself at his voice. Back stiffening, head lifting. “Wh-Whatever it is I’ve said or done to offend you, I apologize! I will reflect on my actions and do better in the future!”

“Offend me?” Crewel’s surprise melted into a devilish smirk. “You’ve done nothing of the sort. However, I’m flattered that you would think yourself in such dire need of my private instruction.”

“Eh? Then what did you need me for…?”

“A curiosity of mine. I hope you do not mind.”

“N-No, sir! Curiosity not minded!”

A chuckle.

Crewel extended his pointer to a line of shelves. “I’ve heard from the headmaster that you care for colorants. Is that correct?”

Raven was all too eager to provide the answer and then book it out of there. “That’s right. I brew some in my spare time. They’re enchanted inks, meant for writing and journaling.”

“Inks? What, may I ask, makes them ‘enchanted’?”

“Well…” Raven gestured to a potted mandrake. “It’s like cultivation. I infuse magic into the ink, which grants them fun properties. Smelling like an orange slice, glowing even long after you’ve penned it, words that produce the sounds they write out.”

“I see.” Interest had started to seep into Crewel’s voice. “Have you ever thought to extend this skill to other areas of application?”

“No, not really. It’s just something I got into to save on pocket money. Commercial inks can be expensive, so I thought to make my own with the ingredients gathered from around campus…”

Raven trailed off.

A glint had settled into Crewel’s eyes. The very same shine that came into Crowley’s at the mention of money or fresh game.

“It seems to me,” Crewel said slowly, “that you have a talent.”

A stone dropped into her stomach.

Uh-oh, here comes trouble.

“I would very much like to train that talent.” He tapped his pointer into an open palm. Each strike light, but had all the gravity of a gravel.

“Huh?!”

“You’re familiar with Night Raven College’s charity ball?”

“Yes…”

She couldn’t forget it even if she tried. The headmaster had droned about it for the last several weeks, declaring it a “prime time” to look good to the public. (Half of those weeks had been spent preening and wondering which suit and tie to wear.)

“School staff are to be in attendance to oversee the event. This year, we’re donating the proceeds to an animal shelter on Sage’s Island—a cause I’m particularly passionate about. As such, I would like to wear something stunning—and to dazzle at a show, you must have the element of surprise. I will be designing my own outfit. That is where you will come in.

“I will provide the materials, and you will prepare the dye for it. I want a unique color and magical effect that suits my image and enhances it.”

“But I don’t know the first thing about fabrics or treating them,” Raven protested faintly.

“Which is why I will mentor you. It will be a collaborative effort.”

“I-I’m sure you’re entirely capable of accomplishing this on your own, Professor! After all, Crewel-sensei is so very skilled…”

“Tch.” He frowned, making his displeasure clear. “You are missing the point, pup. Do you really think I wouldn’t have already done so, were that my intention?”

Raven flinched. “I don’t know, sir.”

“Night Raven College is making efforts to promote teamwork in its curriculum and extracurricular activities. For such a front-facing event, our new direction will be center stage. You’re a clever girl. I’m certain I do not need to explain the importance of this.”

“Surely there are more ideal candidates, sir… Students far more qualified than me. V-Vil-senpai? Or a Science Club member? Rook-senpai might be interested.”

“Of course I am aware of that—but this isn't about them. This is about you."

His pointer sliced through the air, so sharp that it cracked like a whip, aiming itself right at her. Crewel's face was the picture of arrogance, a high and mighty king looking down at the peasants. (Raven suddenly understood why he, of all teachers, was a Night Raven College graduate.)

"Since the day you scampered into my classroom, you've been nothing but a meek little thing. Obedience is all well and good, but you lack a bark and a bite, the confidence to be bold and to demonstrate your ability with pride. Schoenheit and the others already have that.

“You must learn how to speak up, pup! And this Crewel-sama will be the one to teach that to you.”

“B—But…”

“No buts!” he snapped. “If you’re going to reject the idea, then do so with your entire chest! I will accept it as proof of your bite. If you cannot muster that, then you will submit yourself to my guidance. What will it be?”

Raven shrunk back—proving his point. Speak up? Louder, more sternly—against her own teacher? She couldn’t.

Yikes, he’s so fired up about this… There’s no way I can comfortably say ‘no’!

She balled her fists up, terribly twisting her skirt. Raven sighed deeply, resigning herself to her fate.

“… Alright, I will do my best to assist, Crewel-sensei. In return, I will be relying on you too.”

“Good girl. You’ve made your choice.” Crewel offered a hand. “Then let us shake on it.”

She hesitantly took it. His grip was firm and resolute, hers limp and unenthusiastic.

At last, he smiled in satisfaction. “I look forward to instructing you, Crowley. I expect you to keep up.”

Never in her life had she felt more like some poor dog strung along on a leash.