#you have to like. Work to be capable of Receiving it when offered

[alsofoundinpeas]

In the Blink of a Lens

Summary: When Spencer Reid finally succumbs to technology and gets a smartphone, he takes a tentative step into the digital world by sending his best friend (and colleague) Y/N a picture. What starts as an innocent attempt to embrace modern tech leaves Y/N flustered as the seemingly innocent gesture forces her to confront feelings she’s been ignoring for years. Neither of them is prepared for the powerful impact of a single, innocent photo as the lines between friendship and something more start to blur.

(AKA Spencer sends the above selfie and reader gets horny because his hand is quite literally swallowing the phone HAHAHA)

CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI!! This fic is intended for adult audiences. Hand kink/fixation. Overstimulation. Oral (both m and f receiving). Fingering. Unprotected sex/P in V sex (do as I say not as I do and STAY PROTECTED IRL!!). Dirty talk/praise kink. Softdom!Spencer and bratty!sub!reader. Some religious phrasing (because who are fanfic writers really without it?) Pull-out method used (again, do as I say not as I do!!) Very brief mention of a sex toy (doesn't get used). Fluffy smut. Two idiots in love/best friends to lovers trope. <3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!BAU!reader

A/N: This is my humble contribution to the Spencer Reid hand kink supremacy (no but seriously how are his hands THAT attractive??). This is kinda sorta an AU I guess because I wrote this with season four Reid in mind but I'm not sure (and Google will not give me a clear answer) if that type of iPhone was around then so let's just pretend it was for the sake of the fic pls. :') Also the "Sincerely, Spencer Reid" was a direct nod to B99's very own Raymond Holt because I could definitely see him and Spence handling tech the same way LMAO. As always, please tell me what you think! :) If you enjoy it, please like, reblog, and share it with your friends! <3 Thank you and I love you all :) (I also ask that my work not be uploaded to other platforms or translated without my explicit permission. Thank you!)

"Am I doing this selfie thing right? Sincerely, Spencer Reid"

The screen felt almost blinding in the dim lighting of Y/N's bedroom as she stared slack-jawed at the image open on her phone.

Spencer finally upgraded to a smartphone a week ago after an unfortunate crash to the ground (stupid raised sidewalk) shattered the old flip phone that had long ago earned him the nickname "Grandpa" from his pain-in-the-ass-loving best friend. Y/N had never seen a man so devastated over losing what was essentially a brick that made calls, so to cheer him up, she helped him pick out a new phone and set it up.

She was beginning to regret that decision as she gawked at the selfie Spencer had sent.

It was sweet—an innocent photo of him sitting in his car, just after finishing the paperwork he’d insisted on handling alone, despite her offers to help. He'd banished her to her apartment, as stubborn as ever. The shot was taken in his rearview mirror, a faint grin tugging at his lips, his maple-toned eyes obscured by the phone. There was nothing about the image that should have made her pulse quicken. But when the realization hit her, a rush of warmth flooded her face.

It was his hand.

His hand seemed almost too big for the phone, dwarfing it as he snapped the picture. It wasn’t that she hadn’t noticed how large his hands were—everyone did—but she’d never given it much thought. Until now. Watching the way his fingers effortlessly swallowed the device, she couldn’t tear her eyes away. There was something about the sheer size of his hand, the way it seemed to overpower the phone, that made her suddenly hyper-aware of every detail.

His fingers were long, elegant, and well-cared-for; fingers that seemed capable of touching parts of her she'd never been able to reach on her own—

No. No, no, no. There was absolutely no way she was having these thoughts about Spencer Reid. Spencer, her endearingly awkward best friend of four years. Her rock. Her partner in the field. The man she’d always thought of as just that—nothing more. Well...

Y/N did have a crush on him once, in the earliest stages of their friendship. But it was just a small, silly, unreciprocated crush that she locked away in the deepest parts of her subconscious so that she could at least still be his friend. She accepted that it would never happen and moved on. Or she thought she had...

A muffled curse leaves Y/N's lips as she realizes she never responded, her thumbs hovering over the keyboard as she struggles to think of a response. Since when has she ever struggled to talk to Spencer? Seriously, what the fuck was wrong with her tonight? Was she ovulating?

"Next time, show off those pretty brown eyes of yours and you've got it down pat :)"

Okay... That sounded way flirtier than she intended... But that's how they usually joked with each other, right? She was just overthinking everything because she was exhausted from their most recent case. That's it.

"Also... why have you not put your phone case on yet?? You're practically begging for another sidewalk incident to happen, Grandpa."

That's better. That feels normal.

She sets her phone down on her nightstand, picking up her abandoned book to continue reading. Y/N's heart rate is almost back to normal when her phone's ringtone blaring startles her, the book falling to her lap with a muted thud. An annoyed groan rumbles in her throat as she reaches over to grab the device, internally praying it wasn't Hotch calling with another case. They had JUST gotten back from Ohio not even six hours ago and she just wanted to rest—

To her surprise, it was Spencer calling.

"It's awfully late for you to be calling, Grandpa," Y/N drawled as she answered the call, her lips curling up into a grin as she heard Spencer scoff on the other line. "Shouldn't you be in bed by now?"

"I am in bed," Spencer grumbled in response, and she could hear some shuffling as he got comfortable. "And I put the case on right after I sent the selfie, thank you very much. Speaking of, did you know that the origin of selfies was actually believed to be..."

Spencer launched into a thorough explanation of not only the origins of selfies but also a detailed account of why self-portraits came about. Y/N hung onto every word, just as she always did when he spoke. Most people found his rambling to be annoying, but not her. She thought it was fascinating how much information he kept tucked away in that brain of his and was more than willing to listen and ask questions about anything he blurted out.

The conversation stretches on for another hour, neither of them wanting to be the one to end it. It’s not until the fifth yawn escapes Spencer that Y/N finally chuckles into the phone before reluctantly saying goodnight. Spencer’s voice is warm as he wishes her sweet dreams, and the call ends with the soft beep of disconnecting. And, for the first time in a long while, sweet dreams she did have…

"Does that feel good? Hm, pretty girl?" Spencer murmured into her ear as she writhed between his spread legs, her bare back pressed flush to his clothed chest.

The night had started with celebratory drinks after finally closing one of their more grueling cases, the team getting some much-needed relaxation and bonding in. Spencer was Y/N's designated driver as per usual since he didn't drink, instead choosing to nurse a soda as he eyed Y/N down from across the booth.

He was directly across from her, snugly between Derek and Hotch. But he wasn't paying attention to them. His eyes had been fixated on her from the moment she'd come back from the bar with Emily and Penelope, tracing the contours of her flushed face as she tipped her head back and took another shot.

Y/N had no intentions of getting completely drunk, instead choosing to remain just tipsy enough to enjoy the warmth that flowed through her body from the alcohol and maintain a steady buzz. That way she could be aware of her surroundings while also enjoying herself and the company of her team.

The bar was dim, the pounding of her heartbeat matching the beat of the music bumping overhead as her gaze fell on Spencer. Her brows furrowed at the unabashedly hungry look in his eyes, her tongue poking out to wet her lips subconsciously. She had to have been hallucinating. There was no way he'd be looking at her like that... right?

But he had been. And that same look is exactly what led them to where they were now, with Spencer propped up against her headboard holding her at his mercy while his fingers pumped tirelessly into her drenched pussy. She was sure the sight of them was downright filthy, an erotic contrast of her completely bare body pressed against his fully clothed one.

Y/N was in shambles, her legs trembling as her nails dug uselessly into his thighs while soft whimpers and moans flowed freely from her kiss-swollen lips. Her mind was reeling, a dizzying mixture of the remaining alcohol in her system, the pleasure coiling tightly in her lower stomach, and the knowledge that it was Spencer causing said pleasure.

She was so, so close... just a few more strokes of his fingers and...

A sharp gasp sounded through the bedroom as Y/N jolted awake, her chest heaving as she shakily sat up to turn off her alarm. She blinked hard, attempting to clear the fog from her vision as she fell back into her pillows. The dull aching between her thighs served as a sore reminder of what she was so close to achieving in her dream...

Her eyes snapped open as the memory of the dream hit her like a tidal wave. Guilt, confusion, and sheer horror crashed over her, and she groaned, her hands dragging down her face in frustrated disbelief. She’d just had a dream—a wet dream—about Spencer Fucking Reid.

What had gotten into her?

Before she could dive too deep into why her crush on Spencer had apparently resurfaced with a vengeance after being dormant for so long, her phone dinged with a message from the genius himself. It felt like the universe was rubbing salt in the wound, taunting her for the forbidden thoughts she couldn’t seem to shake about her best friend.

Spence <3: Are you going to get coffee? Sincerely, Spencer Reid

Y/N snorted out a laugh at how he signed his text, shaking her head as she responded.

Y/N: ... Spence, you don't have to sign your name on each text. I have your number saved. And yes, I am :)

A minute passes before his response comes through.

Spence <3: Oh. Well then, can you also bring me coffee please?

Y/N: Of course I can <3

Her earlier guilt lingers in the pit of her stomach as she sets the phone down, rolling out of bed with a sigh to begin getting ready for work. How was she going to face him after having a dream like that? Maybe it was a fluke; a one-off occurrence manifested from her lack of sexual endeavors so her brain had no choice but to use Spencer as a fill-in for her fantasies.

Opting to pretend it never happened so she could face her best friend later, Y/N finished getting ready and left for the café, determined to get there on time for work.

The elevator dinged as Y/N strolled into the bullpen, her and Spencer's usual orders in hand and a soft smile on her face. Thankfully, today was a paperwork day—a task most of the team dreaded, but one Y/N welcomed. It gave her a chance to recover from the constant motion sickness from the jet and the relentless flirtations of the officers when they worked cases out of state.

"Mm, my very own coffee fairy!" Spencer grinned, setting down the stack of papers he’d been poring over. His eyes sparkled as she made her way across the room, finally meeting his gaze from across the desk as she stopped in front of him. "Have I ever told you you're the best?"

"Yes, you have," Y/N teased with a playful grin, holding out his coffee. "But I don’t mind hearing it more often."

Her dream, it seemed, hadn’t been a fluke, a realization that hits her as Spencer grabs his coffee. Her eyes involuntarily track the way his fingers curl around the Styrofoam cup, and a shiver runs up her spine when they inadvertently brush against hers. Her cheeks flush as she quickly pulls her gaze away, meeting his curious eyes instead.

"You feeling okay, Y/N? You look a little flushed," Spencer murmured, his brow furrowed in concern as he eyed her over the rim of his cup.

Y/N blinked, her heart pounding in her throat as she swallowed and nodded. The sight had sent her mind reeling, the memory of those same fingers buried deep inside of her in her dream the night before surfacing against her will.

"Y-yeah. Yeah, I'm fine I just-"

Before Y/N could finish stammering out her lame excuse, Morgan sauntered into the bullpen with Garcia, the pair immediately honing in on her and Spencer as they made their way over.

"Oh, c'mon Y/N! Seriously? Pretty boy here gets a coffee but the rest of us don't?" Morgan taunted, chuckling as Y/N reached out to playfully swat at his arm with an eye roll.

"Well obviously! He's her work husband," Penelope chimed in matter-of-factly, giggling as she wiggled her eyebrows. "It would mean a divorce was brewing if she didn't."

The team had started the joke years ago, teasing her and Spencer for being the youngest members and for how quickly they’d clicked. To everyone else, it was obvious their friendship ran deeper than either of the two realized. The problem was that neither one of them could see it. Some profilers they were.

No matter how many times the joke was made, Spencer’s face still turned bright red every single time.

"Har dee har har," Spencer scoffed, his eyes shifting to the cup still gripped in his hand.

The banter was cut short as Hotch stepped out of his office, everyone mumbling their goodbyes and scurrying back to their desks to get their work done. Y/N welcomed the distraction with open arms, diving into her work to try to get her mind off of her conflicted feelings towards her best friend.

All day long, Y/N fought the growing urge to watch Spencer’s hands, but it was impossible to ignore. Her eyes were drawn to the way his fingers traced the edge of a case file as he analyzed it, or how they drummed a steady rhythm on his desk, each tap somehow amplifying the tension she was trying to suppress.

Her breaking point came when the team was wrapping up for the day. Spencer, eager to show off, insisted on demonstrating a new cardistry trick he’d learned. The rest of the team gathered around, and Y/N felt herself drawn in, unable to look away. Her eyes locked on his fingers as he deftly manipulated the cards, the muscles in his hands flexing with each smooth, controlled movement. She barely registered her open mouth or the way her pulse quickened—every part of her attention was on him.

Y/N was jolted back to reality when Emily nudged her, a raised eyebrow full of amusement as the rest of the team cheered and complimented Spencer on his newly acquired skill. Rather than meet Emily’s knowing look, Y/N quickly murmured her praise for Spencer, then hastily made her exit, claiming she needed to hit a store before it closed.

If she thought that day was bad, the next few weeks were hell.

The BAU had two back-to-back cases, leaving them no time to rest as they flew straight from Tennessee to Arizona. The dry heat seemed to make Spencer restless—constantly running his fingers through his hair, fidgeting with his watch, or rolling up his sleeves. Meanwhile, Y/N felt her sanity slipping away, her thoughts unraveling as she stumbled over her words or completely lost track of what she was saying—because she couldn’t stop staring at those goddamned hands.

Spencer wasn’t blind to the shift in her behavior. He’d noticed how she started to occupy herself with something whenever he entered the room, or how she became increasingly uneasy around him—spinning the rings on her fingers, tugging at the necklace he'd given her for her last birthday, or even finding reasons to leave the room entirely the moment he stepped in.

Y/N's usual teasing had begun to feel hollow, and the familiar touches she used to give him—guiding him gently by the hand, rubbing his shoulder when frustration set in, or planting an exaggerated kiss on his cheek before leaving—had completely disappeared.

He felt gutted, unable to think of a single reason for Y/N's sudden distance. The uncertainty gnawed at him, twisting his stomach with worry. What if she was tired of him? Or worse… what if she had finally seen through his feelings for her and was repulsed by them?

When the team wrapped up in Arizona and boarded the jet home, Spencer made up his mind.

After Y/N chose to sit next to Emily instead of her usual spot beside him, he couldn’t take it anymore. The not knowing was eating at him, and more than anything… he missed her. She was the one person who saw him for who he truly was, the one who understood him better than he understood himself. The one who brought him solace during the toughest cases and reminded him why he kept going. The thought of losing her was unbearable, and he promised himself he’d do whatever it took to fix whatever had gone wrong.

As soon as the jet touched down in Quantico, Y/N quickly muttered her goodbyes and made a beeline for the parking garage. Finally, she was free. Free to go home, shut herself off, and stop behaving like a complete mess around Spencer. She hated how distant she’d been, but she couldn’t help it. The weight of her obsessive thoughts about him and the feelings she’d tried to bury for so long had completely overridden her rational thoughts, leaving her acting out of control.

Fingers closed around her upper arm just inches from her car, and a sharp yelp escaped her lips. She spun around, startled, to find an equally surprised Spencer standing there. She had been so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she hadn't heard him following her.

"Jesus, Grandpa! Make an announcement before you sneak up on people!" Y/N complained loudly, turning away from him to unlock her car and toss her go bag into the backseat.

Spencer couldn't help but feel some relief at the nickname, a surge of hope coursing through him. Grandpa. She hadn't called him that in almost two weeks. He cleared his throat, holding onto his courage as he finally addressed her recent behavior.

"Sorry! Sorry, I just— I wanted to make sure we were okay? I’ve noticed you’ve been acting… not like yourself lately. Not that I’m calling you weird or anything—"

Y/N's heart broke at the nervous rambling spewing from his lips as he stood before her, tucked into himself and fidgeting with his hands as he tried to speak. God, she was such an asshole.

"Spence," Y/N murmured, gently interrupting him before letting out a soft sigh. "I promise, we're fine. I’m sorry if I’ve seemed distant. It’s just… I’ve been so stressed with the cases, and compartmentalizing has been harder than usual. I guess I didn’t want to drag you into it. I’m really sorry."

It wasn't necessarily a lie. She really had been stressed and struggling with compartmentalizing... just not because of their job.

Spencer’s shoulders relaxed, his tense expression softening into one of understanding. “You know I’m always here for you, right? You don’t have to carry that burden alone. I’d much rather you let me in than struggle with it on your own."

Scratch that. She wasn't just an asshole. She was the biggest asshole in the world for making him feel the way he had.

"I know that. I really do," Y/N murmured, her fingers nervously playing with her lip. "It's just… I get way too independent sometimes." She sighed, then brightened. "How about this? Tomorrow’s our first Saturday off in over a month… Why don’t you come over and we can do a movie marathon? We could use some good 'work spouse' bonding, don’t you think?"

Spencer’s smile stretched across his face, his voice a little more eager than usual and his cheeks flushed. "Yeah, I'd, uh... I'd love that. Let's do it."

Y/N returned his grin, her heart fluttering from how excited he looked. Relief flooded through her veins as he agreed to her plans, not realizing how much she had truly missed him the past few weeks since she'd been so focused on trying not to gawk at him every five minutes.

"Perfect. It’s a date,” Y/N teased, her smile widening. “Now, get in. I’m not letting you take the train back this late."

"What? Isn't this what you wanted, sweetheart?" Spencer crooned into her ear, tightening his hold around her wrists as he kept them pinned above her head.

Another frustrated whine left her lips as she tugged uselessly against his hold, but they both knew she didn't actually want to slip free. One of his hands was wrapped tightly around both of her wrists, his other tracing maddeningly up and down her side.

"Or did you want Officer Davidson's hands on you instead?" His tone was taunting, a hint of jealousy tainting his words as he tightened his grip.

The moment they stepped into their shared hotel room after leaving the precinct, Spencer was all over her. She’d noticed the heated glares he shot her way while she stood across the room, wearing a bored expression as Officer Davidson repeatedly (and unsuccessfully) tried to flirt with her.

They hadn't announced their new relationship status to the team yet per Spencer's insistence, but it was obvious from the intensity in Spencer’s eyes that he wanted to shout it to the world now. The way he glared at Davidson made it clear he was ready to stake his claim, watching the officer eye her like prey.

Now they were here, with Spencer hellbent on making sure she understood that she was his.

Y/N shook her head, looking up at Spencer pleadingly as she tilted her hips up in search of his. "No, never. Only want you, Spence."

A dark chuckle escaped him as he smirked down at her, his hand, which had been trailing along her side, now cupping her chin. His fingers gently squeezed her cheeks, coaxing her lips into a pout.

"Only me? Is that right, sweet girl?" Spencer cooed, loosening his grip to press on her bottom lip with his thumb before sliding the digit into her mouth. "Because it sure looked like you were enjoying his attention."

The flushed head of his cock teased her entrance, pressing between her folds as his hips slowly rocked back and forth, prolonging her teasing instead of giving her what she wanted. She groaned around his thumb, sucking the digit further into her mouth and holding his gaze in an effort to tempt him into finally fucking her instead of just grinding against her.

A soft hiss fell from his lips as his gaze darkened. He shifted his weight above her, keeping her wrists clasped in his hand and shoving them into the mattress as he began to rut against her harder. Her sharp gasp sounded through the air as he angled his hips up, the tip of his cock dipping into her deliciously before he halted his movements, keeping only a few inches inside of her.

Y/N writhed beneath him, whimpering her protests around his thumb as her jaw slackened, muffled pleas spilling from her lips as she began to beg uselessly for him to just fuck her already.

Spencer pressed down on her tongue with his thumb, a grunt escaping him before he yanked his thumb out of her mouth, using the hand to pin her down instead.

"Be still—"

Y/N’s eyes fluttered open, the harsh light of morning pouring through her curtains, and she let out a disgruntled groan as she blindly searched for her phone on the nightstand. After weeks of peaceful, dreamless sleep, of course she would dream about Spencer the night before their hangout. Wait—

Y/N sat up abruptly, unlocking her phone to check the time, only to notice a message waiting for her on the lock screen.

Spence <3: I’ll be there in an hour with a surprise.

Sent twenty-three minutes ago.

Fuck. She'd completely forgotten to set an alarm to get ready for their movie marathon, despite being the one who had suggested it in the first place. Whatever brain cells that photo had scrambled in her brain needed to get a grip so she could function on a level above Neanderthal.

Y/N: Surprise? You spoil me, old man. I'll see you then :)

Y/N exhaled wearily, rolling out of bed and dragging her feet across the plush carpet. She shuffled over to her dresser, picking out an outfit consisting of black yoga pants and an old band tee before heading to the bathroom for a cold shower. Maybe it would clear her head—or at least get rid of the incessant aching between her thighs. It worked on men, right?

One miserable shower and a change of clothes later, Y/N finally managed to clear some of the fog clouding her mind. She darted around her apartment, tidying up in a flurry before Spencer arrived. Moving between the kitchen and the living room, she gathered everything for their movie marathon: a pile of 90's slasher films spread out on the coffee table, her biggest throw blanket draped across the sectional, and a bag of popcorn popping away in the microwave.

Spencer's signature knock rang through the apartment at the same time the microwave started beeping, signaling that the popcorn was done.

"Coming!" Y/N shouted from the kitchen, opening the microwave door so it wouldn't repeat the shrill noise before making her way to the front door.

She swings it open with an excited grin, her gaze immediately dropping to the bag in Spencer's hand. She beckons for Spencer to come in, trying to sneak a peek at what was in the slightly crinkled paper bag.

"Geez, don't look too excited to see me," Spencer chuckled, following Y/N into her kitchen.

She waved dismissively, laughing softly as she grabbed the bag of popcorn and a bowl to pour it into. Spencer sat the bag on the counter, finally revealing its contents as he pulled out a tub of ice cream and some sour gummy worms.

"A man after my own heart!" Y/N gasped with an exaggerated swoon, cackling as Spencer swatted at her playfully.

"You said you were stressed, and I know you’ve got a sweet tooth just like me, so I figured it’d be perfect for our movie marathon," Spencer said with a shrug, the faintest blush creeping up his neck.

That kind of thoughtful behavior was just another reason her emotions had been in turmoil for the past few weeks. The selfie had opened a door to a spiral of introspection, one that made her revisit every moment they’d shared. She had always known their friendship straddled the line between platonic and something more, but she’d convinced herself it was simply because they were so comfortable with one another. It wasn’t until now that she began to wonder if those boundaries had been blurred intentionally — if, deep down, they both had wanted more all along.

The movie marathon kicked off after a bit of grumbling from Spencer, who finally gave in to watching the cheesy slasher films he’d insisted were beneath him. A few awkward moments of shifting on the couch later, they settled into a comfortable spot—Y/N tucked into his side, both of them with snacks in their laps and the throw blanket wrapped around them, ready to dive into the horror-filled lineup.

As they settled into the movie, Spencer’s gaze lingered on Y/N for a moment too long. He noticed the drip of vanilla ice cream at the corner of her mouth, the sight causing an unwelcome tightness in his pants. Before he could stop himself, he reached over. His thumb gently swiped the sugary trail now pooling along her lower lip, a soft swipe that left his hand lingering a fraction of a second longer than necessary.

"Here, you've got a little..."

The words died in his throat as her lips wrapped around his thumb, both of their eyes widening as their gaze met.

In that moment, everything fell into place for Spencer. It wasn’t stress that had been driving her distant behavior—he realized with a sudden jolt—it was something else entirely. The way she'd been pulling away, the tension between them… it wasn’t just exhaustion or anxiety. No, it was something far more complicated. It was desire.

Y/N jerked backward, nearly sending all of their precariously placed snacks to the floor as her face burned with embarrassment. "Oh, my God I- I'm so sorry Spence," she stammered, her words tripping over each other. "I have no idea why I did that-"

"Y/N."

Spencer cut her off with a hushed murmur of her name, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she stopped her nervous rambling.

"It's okay. I-I liked it," Spencer reassured her softly.

Y/N stared at him, dumbfounded.

"What?"

"I liked it."

Spencer repeated himself surely, but the tremble in his voice gave away the fact that his brave front was exactly that: a front.

"I—" He hesitated, a heavy sigh escaping him. His hands fumbled with the snacks for a moment, setting them carefully on the coffee table as if buying time. He finally turned to face her fully, the weight of his words settling in. "Y/N… I've been in love with you since the moment I met you. I never said anything because I was scared… scared you wouldn’t feel the same. And after everything these past few weeks, with you pulling away, I thought maybe you’d figured it out and hated me for it. But… maybe I was wrong. Maybe you actually feel the same way I do..."

Y/N’s mouth parted in shock, her mouth opening and closing like she wanted to say something—anything—but the words just wouldn’t come. Spencer loved her. He always had. And she had spent all this time convincing herself her feelings were one-sided, certain he couldn’t possibly feel the same way.

Spencer's voice wavered as he spoke, his eyes searching hers with a quiet intensity. "Please, tell me I was wrong. Tell me you feel the same." His words hung in the air, and he held his breath, waiting, afraid that his confession might have been the thing to push her away for good.

The raw vulnerability in his voice broke through the fog in her mind, and without thinking, she nodded quickly, the words tumbling from her lips before she could stop them.

"Yes! Yes, Spence, I feel the same way," she breathed, her voice shaky as she looked up at him, eyes wide with a mix of relief and disbelief. "I always have… I just… I convinced myself it was impossible. I never thought you could feel the same."

A soft laugh escaped him, his grin widening as he wet his lips with the tip of his tongue. "How could I not, Y/N?" he murmured, his voice low and sincere. "You’re everything to me. You’re the reason I started believing in soulmates… because I know I’ll never find anyone more perfectly made for me than you. You’re it. Always have been."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at his words, her eyes welling up involuntarily. No one had ever spoken to her with such reverence, and in that moment, she realized she held him in the same regard. But where Spencer's words were so effortlessly beautiful, hers often fell short. So, instead of trying to find the right ones, she chose to show him just how deeply he mattered to her.

Within seconds, her lips were on his, her hands gently cradling his face as she pulled him closer. Spencer surrendered to the kiss, his hands sliding to her waist, mirroring her movements and pulling her in.

It started as a slow, hesitant kiss that rapidly devolved into something more desperate as the weight of years of silent longing melted away between them. What Y/N couldn't articulate into words she poured into touch, threading her trembling fingers into his soft hair and tugging, urging him to hover over her as she laid back against the couch. Her lips moved against his fiercely, trying to convey the silent message that she was just as in love with him as he was with her.

The movie had long since faded into the background, its faint dialogue and sporadic screams now an odd soundtrack blending with the muffled whimpers and soft pants that filled the space between them as their hands began to roam. Spencer's hips were nestled between hers, unmoving and stiff as he tried not to mindlessly hump against her like an animal in heat.

Y/N noticed Spencer's rigidness, breaking the kiss to look up at him with a furrowed brow. "What's wrong?" She breathed out, propping up on her elbows and brushing their noses together. "Are we moving too fast? We can stop if you want, I-I'm sorry—"

"No!" Spencer borderline shouted in his haste to ease the insecurity he saw creeping into her eyes, his face flushing as he cleared his throat. "No, no that's not it at all. I just, um... I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. I wasn't sure how far you wanted this to go."

Y/N’s shoulders relaxed, a small frown giving way to a playful smirk. She idly twisted the loose curls at the nape of his neck between her fingers, her gaze locking with his.

"I want you, Spence. All of you. If that's what you want, too."

Spencer's nod was immediate, his forehead almost knocking into hers, causing her to laugh at his eagerness. "God, yes. I want that, so much. I want you so much."

Y/N grinned as she tilted her head to brush their lips together, landing a chaste kiss on his mouth before she tugged him down, leaning forward to whisper into his ear. "Yeah? You wanna fuck me, Spence?"

He inhaled sharply through his nose, his eyes fluttering shut as his head fell into the crook of her neck. If he were younger, he probably would have just cum in his pants from her words alone. But he was a man now. A barely composed man who was dizzy from the intoxicating scent of her perfume crowding his nose and the most painful erection he's had since puberty straining against his slacks.

"Such a crude mouth you have," Spencer murmured in feigned disappointment, shaking his head before pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses to the skin of her neck. "Maybe I should fill it up until you learn some manners, hm?"

He traced the fingers of his right hand up her side as he pulled back enough to look into her eyes, his left hand pressed into the cushions to keep him from laying all his body weight onto her. He'd caught her lingering glances at his hands throughout the last few weeks. He just hadn't been sure why she'd been staring at them so hard... but now? Now, he knew exactly why she'd been so fixated on them, and he planned to use that to his advantage.

The whimper that slipped from Y/N's lips as Spencer slid two fingers into her gaping mouth confirmed his suspicions, the shit-eating grin on his face growing wide as he pressed the digits down against her tongue. She began to suck at his fingers eagerly, the feeling of her tongue laving over them making his body tremble in anticipation.

His hips began to rock against hers, slowly grinding against her aching core as he pressed kisses up and down the side of her neck. Once he was satisfied with his teasing, he pulled his fingers from her mouth with a slick 'pop', replacing them with his tongue as he kissed her deeply.

Y/N’s mind whirled, both surprised and intrigued by the sudden shift in his demeanor, captivated by how effortlessly he stepped into control. It wasn’t what she’d anticipated at all. She’d seen glimpses of this side of him—brief moments in the field or during interrogations—but never like this. The man before her was assured and confident, a stark contrast to his usual, endearing awkwardness.

Their kiss grew hungry as Spencer continued where they had left off before, his hands sliding under the hem of her shirt and bunching the fabric as they trailed up. He broke the kiss long enough to help her out of the shirt, tossing it somewhere in the direction of the TV before capturing her lips once more. He was a man ravenous, consumed by the sweetness of her lips, and even the seconds it took to remove her t-shirt felt like an unbearable eternity without them.

Her hands were just as busy as his, dragging down his clothed chest before finding the button of his slacks in the cramped space between them. Her fingers fumbled with the button blindly, and her movements faltered when his teeth gently tugged at her lower lip.

"Off," Y/N whined indignantly against his mouth, tugging frustratedly at the button. "Take them off."

Spencer obliged, helpless to her commands as he sat back on his heels, easily undoing the pesky button that was keeping her from what she wanted. She went to sit up to help with his zipper, but in her rush to get his pants off, she didn't realize just how close his knee was to the edge of the cushion.

The motion knocked his knee outwards, a surprised yelp leaving his lips as he instinctively reached out for her to steady himself, but it was too late.

A startled squeal slipped from Y/N as they both tumbled to the floor, landing with a muted thud on the plush carpet. Spencer’s hands shot to her waist, his eyes wide as he glanced up at her, now sprawled on top of him, her laughter filling the air at their unexpected fall. He joined her, chuckling loudly.

They were a perfect chaos—rumpled clothes, kiss-swollen lips, tangled hair, and eyes full of love. But neither of them minded, because they finally had what they’d both been yearning for all this time: each other.

The fall did little to curb their desire for each other. Y/N ducked her head, pressing her lips to Spencer's with renewed vigor as her hands slipped underneath his sweater. She giggled as he squirmed underneath her touch.

"You're such a wiggle worm!" Y/N huffed, pulling back just enough to let the words slip free into the air between them as she lifted the sweater up and over his head.

Spencer scoffed, his own hands slipping beneath the waistband of her yoga pants and shoving them down her legs. "I can't help that your hands feel like ice!"

A quiet hiss left her lips at the feeling of his equally cold hands brushing against the skin of her thighs. She wriggled on top of him, kicking off the remaining fabric that had wrapped around her feet.

"So do yours, but you don't see me acting like a baby about it!"

"Oh, I'll show you a baby—"

Y/N cackled as Spencer rolled them over, hovering above her once more with a cheeky grin and soft chuckles. He bombarded her with kisses all over her face and collarbones, ignoring her hands swatting at him playfully as he continued his attack. Soon his pants joined the growing pile of clothes near the entertainment center, the soft glow of the TV illuminating the room as the final scenes of the forgotten movie played out. His hands made swift work of removing her bra, leaving her lying underneath him in only her lacy underwear.

Their laughter died out as they stared into each other's eyes, the weight of what was about to change—what had already changed—settling over them. But fear didn’t touch them. There was no reason for it. This was always meant to be; written in the stars, woven into their destiny long before they existed.

Spencer closed the gap between them, kissing Y/N tenderly as he lowered himself just enough for their bare chests to press together and their hips to align perfectly. A sigh escaped her at the feeling of his hardened cock grinding against her, the thin fabric of his boxers and her soaked panties doing little to conceal what lay beneath.

Neither of them had ever pictured their first time unfolding on the living room floor, but in a way, it made the moment even more unforgettable. It was a testament to how desperately they wanted each other—so much that they’d choose the roughness of the carpet and rug burns over the luxury of her bed to avoid the few minutes apart it would take to get to her room.

"You're sure you want this?"

Spencer broke the kiss, his eyes tracing hers for any trace of hesitation or doubt. Y/N's lips curved into a faint smile as she reached up to caress his face. Her thumb stroked the skin of his cheekbone as she nodded.

"More than anything."

The look in her eyes told him that she was being completely honest. That was all the confirmation he needed. His shaky hands found the edges of the lace adorning her hips, inching his body down as he tugged the soaked-through fabric down her legs.

Y/N's face scrunched in confusion as Spencer moved lower, her brows furrowing as he pressed a kiss to her knee. "What are you-"

Her words cut off with a sharp moan as Spencer latched his mouth to her clit, her head tipping back against the floor as her hands buried themselves into his disheveled strands. Her back arched as her legs spread instinctively, making room for him as he began to devour her. He shifted, grabbing ahold of her thighs and placing them over his shoulders as his tongue alternated between teasing kitten licks and long, drawn-out laps up and down her pussy.

Y/N struggled to open her eyes, peering down at him as pleasure began to flood her veins. The sight of his hands—those beautiful goddamned hands that had inadvertently caused this to happen— gripping her thighs hard enough to leave bruises had her mouth hanging open, small whimpers and moans flowing freely into the open space.

"You taste exquisite, sweetheart. So, so good," Spencer mumbled against her slick skin before sucking her clit into his mouth gently.

Y/N cried out, writhing underneath him as the pleasure in her lower stomach began to build rapidly. A loud groan wrenched itself from her throat as Spencer grabbed her hips, pinning them to the ground as he continued to ravage her in a way that rendered her useless.

"You can take it, pretty girl," Spencer cooed, placing a kiss on her clit before one of his hands left her hip to trace her folds. "Cum for me so I can fuck you so good you'll never want anyone else again."

Who the fuck taught him how to talk like that?

Y/N couldn’t speak to tell him that she’d never want anyone else anyways; that he was etched into her very soul, and every part of her would forever long for his touch and his touch alone. She cried out as his middle finger prodded at her entrance before slipping inside, her orgasm so close she could almost taste it.

Spencer moaned against her from how little resistance her walls had against the intrusion, immediately adding his ring finger to the mix. He thrusted them into her hard, curling the lithe digits in search of that rough patch of skin that would give him what he wanted. It took all of three strokes before he found it, his mouth forming a smirk as she gripped his hair and yanked, grinding her hips up into his mouth as she thrashed beneath him.

"Spence! Fuck, I-I'm cumming—"

Y/N barely uttered the words before her climax seized her, her toes curling as her vision whitened and the world shattered around her. She could vaguely register Spencer's sweet voice coaxing her through it, his forehead now pressed to hers as his fingers continued to gently thrust into her through the aftershocks. Only when she was trembling and weakly shoving at his wrist did he finally stop his movements, his lips meeting hers in a series of soft kisses as her chest heaved beneath him.

"Yeah?" He murmured with a smug grin, pulling back to smooth her hair away from her damp face with his clean hand as she stared up at him in bewilderment.

Spencer Reid had just caused her to cum harder than she ever had in her life. Spencer—the same Spencer that was too shy to look her in the eyes for a solid month after first meeting her just made her cum so hard she almost blacked out. She understood why he was a man of magic now... and it had nothing to do with the novelty tricks he was always showing off.

"Yeah," Y/N whispered in response, still reeling from her orgasm.

If that was the type of climax she could reach simply from his tongue and fingers, she was convinced that she'd never actually experienced one with anyone else.

"Do you want to stop there? Or do you want to keep going?"

Spencer's voice was soft as he stared at the gorgeous woman beneath him. He found it ironic that he was already kneeling between her thighs because that had now become his place of worship. His redemption came in the form of her essence, dripping from his fingers as they rested against her hip. He'd never need anything else as long as he had her.

"Keep going. I want to keep going," Y/N pleaded softly, her hands reaching for his boxers. "Just—c'mere. Wanna taste you before you fuck me brainless. Please?"

A pitiful whine left Spencer’s lips as he felt his composure crack slightly. He wasn’t prepared for her to practically beg to suck his cock. He found himself nodding mindlessly, his hands going to help her strip him of his boxers before he remembered the mess still clinging to his fingers.

“Clean these for me first, sweet girl. Then you can.”

Spencer brought his fingers up to her lips, watching in amazement as she obeyed without a fuss. She even went as far as moaning while she licked his fingers clean of her, holding his gaze while she did. Y/N knew what she did to him. She knew he was just as affected by her as she was him. And she reveled in it.

Once he deemed them clean enough, he pulled them from her mouth before ridding himself of the last shred of fabric between them. The second that Spencer was bare before her, she pounced. Her hands pushed at his chest, urging him to lie back as she crawled on top of him.

“You’re so pretty, Spence,” Y/N breathed dazedly, pecking his lips before trailing her kisses down his chest. “God… look at you.”

Spencer flushed bright red while she continued to murmur her praises as she gripped the base of him, his cock twitching in her hand.

He had never been particularly confident—growing up as a child prodigy in a Las Vegas public school had stripped him of any sense of self-worth before it had a chance to take root. Unlike Morgan, he didn’t have the muscles or the easy charm with women. He could count the number of sexual encounters he’d had on one hand. His dates rarely progressed beyond the first, driven away by his nervous rambling and the unpredictable demands of his job.

The only way Spencer even knew how to make Y/N feel so good was because he had studied every piece of material he could find on the intricacies of female anatomy and sexual pleasure on the off chance one of his dates would blossom into something more than an uncomfortable hook-up and dash situation. It also helped that he’d pined after her since he’d known her, that longing translating into a dire need to make her feel the best she ever had because that’s what she deserved. She deserved to feel pleasure in its purest form, to feel cherished and worshipped because that’s how precious she was to him.

And in this moment, as she gazed at him with the kind of reverence that made it seem as though he was the center of her universe, Spencer believed that maybe, just maybe, he deserved to feel that way too.

His fingers grasped helplessly at the carpet beneath him as her beautiful lips wrapped around the flushed head of his arousal, a muffled curse falling into the air as she swirled her tongue around him. Y/N smirked around her mouthful, her eyes glinting with amusement as she inhaled through her nose and pushed lower, taking him into the back of her throat. The gag that she emitted from the motion had his hips jerking up, a flurry of apologies spewing from his mouth.

Instead of responding verbally, she simply grabbed his hands and guided them to her hair, encouraging him to take hold and move her as he pleased. Once he threaded his hands through her hair, she continued. Her own hands planted firmly on his thighs as she began to bob her head around what she could fit, a soft hum vibrating around his length as her eyes fluttered shut.

Spencer was speechless— absolutely floored as he stared slack-jawed at the woman moaning around his cock like she was the one receiving pleasure from it. He gave an experimental tug of her hair, his head falling back with a thunk as she moaned louder and moved faster. It was as though she were unraveling his very soul with her tongue, hurtling him towards an orgasm he didn’t want to have just yet.

“Y-Y/N wait I— ngh!” Spencer groaned, his grip on her hair tightening unintentionally as he tried to pull her off of him. “I won’t be able to fuck you if you make me cum down your throat, pretty girl. P-please—“

Y/N whined in protest but finally eased herself off of his cock, a trail of spit bridging her lower lip to the head of him as she stared up at him with watery eyes and swollen lips.

Spencer felt delirious as he took in the sight. It was something he’d dreamed about (albeit guiltily) for years, and having the real thing in front of him was infinitely better than anything his subconscious had conjured up during those restless nights. She was a vision; a work of art that deserved to have a museum dedicated to her and her alone.

“Oh, don’t pout. Unless you don’t want to be fucked anymore?” Spencer chuckled breathlessly, arching a brow as she moved to straddle him. His hands found their way to her waist, a shudder running down his spine as she settled over him.

“If you won’t fuck me… I have a pretty nice dildo in my bedside drawer that should do the trick,” Y/N hummed coyly, dragging her heat across the length of him with a soft sigh.

Spencer’s eyes darkened at that, his grip on her hips tightening to put a halt to her subtle movements.

“Yeah? You think it’d make you feel better than I could?”

Y/N swallowed hard, the aching between her legs starting to override her logical thinking. She knew the answer he was looking for; the answer that would give her exactly what she wanted. But she decided to be a smartass instead.

“Maybe,” She answered with a shrug, nibbling at her lower lip as she tried to fight against his hold to get the friction she craved.

“Go get it then.”

Spencer leaned forward, his nose brushing hers as she sat in his lap, a challenge in his gaze. He knew she wouldn’t back down—she was getting restless, just like him. But if this was the game she wanted to play, he was determined to win.

Panic spread across Y/N’s face at the cold, indifferent look in his eyes. Her hands rested on his shoulders, her frown betraying the sinking realization of the hole she’d dug for herself. They were both ridiculously competitive, so why she’d started this—rather than just admitting how badly she wanted him buried inside her—was beyond her.

“I was kidding,” Y/N huffed, tilting forward in an attempt to capture his lips.

Spencer leaned back, keeping his lips just out of reach. He shook his head, smirking softly. “Nope. Either go get it, or say you’re sorry.”

Y/N hesitated, frowning as she weighed her options. She wanted him so badly it hurt. But pride was a hell of a thing. She knew he wouldn’t back down. Normally, she wouldn’t either. But his cock was pressed so deliciously against her clit that she decided it would be more than worth it to lose just this once.

“I’m sorry,” She mumbled, barely audible.

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”

Spencer’s taunting made her groan in frustration before she sighed and tried again.

“I said I’m sorry—“

He shifted them so that his back was against the couch, her knees on both sides of his hips digging into the carpet hard enough that he was certain it would sting once they started. He’d make sure to take care of her afterward, though. He gazed up at her with adoration, thoroughly enjoying how needy she'd become. Her breath hitched as he adjusted his hips, the head of his cock pressing against her entrance.

“One more time, hm?” Spencer coaxed, his hands now rubbing up and down her sides but still holding her tight enough that she couldn't rock against him. If he was honest, his resolve had crumbled as quickly as hers, but he couldn’t help from teasing her for just a little longer.

“I’m sorry!” Y/N cried out, her forehead pressing against his as she whimpered. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

Spencer finally pressed a kiss to her lips before pulling back, his lips brushing against hers as he crooned. “Good girl, baby. Thank you.”

Hearing the praise fall so easily from his mouth had Y/N canting her hips down eagerly, willing to do whatever he wanted just so she could hear his sweet words over and over again. Her determination didn’t waver, her hips pushing down insistently. Spencer’s hold on her waist faltered, and for a brief moment, gravity claimed its victory.

A startled gasp slipped from her lips as the tip of his cock pushed into her, followed by a guttural moan that had Spencer's ears ringing as he cursed loudly. She had been so used to his hold that she wasn't prepared to support herself, his hands having barely caught her from dropping completely. He immediately yanked her up, the cool air against his skin a shock after having felt her warmth for the first time.

“God—fuck!" Spencer groaned as his head tipped back against the couch cushions, straining against every instinct begging him to just drive into her and utilizing every muscle in his body to keep her suspended as she wriggled impatiently.

"Baby... how are you— how are you wanting to do this?” Spencer whispered, swallowing before he continued. “I’m pretty sure I have a condom in my wallet, but I… um. I’m clean...”

Their hearts pounded in their chests as his words lingered in the air, the only sounds in the room being the repeated menu options from the forgotten movie and the soft rhythm of their breaths.

Y/N meweled, reaching down to realign him with her entrance. “I’m clean and on birth control… Can we...? Like this? Please—“

“Yes.”

Y/N chuckled at his blunt response, though she was just as desperate to feel him after having the faintest taste of what he felt inside her. Her lips found his for a chaste kiss before she finally began to lower herself onto his cock, this time without his resistance.

Her laughter died in her throat, morphing into a choked whimper from the stretch of him. Even with how aroused she was, trying to make him fit was a struggle. Spencer was easily the biggest out of anyone she’d ever been with, a feat she hadn't quite realized until she was pausing halfway down his cock with a stuttered moan, slowly circling her hips in an attempt to adjust to the sensation.

Spencer was convinced he'd somehow died and ascended to paradise as he gazed up at the angelic woman hovering above him, enthralled by watching her fight to take the full length of him into her depths. His hands massaged up and down her trembling thighs, hoping to help her relax enough to take the rest of him without it hurting. Hums of encouragement rumbled from his chest as he stared unblinking at her, the warm amber of his eyes almost consumed completely by his blown pupils. His thumb found her clit and rubbed small circles into it as her eyes fluttered closed and she inhaled sharply through her nose.

"That's it, sweet girl," He cooed, continuing his gentle ministrations as she whined from deep in her throat. "Just like that. You're taking me so well. My gorgeous girl."

There was a pleasant burn as Y/N gingerly lifted her hips, leaving only the head of him inside of her. The way her hardened nipples brushed against his bare chest had her shivering lightly, the touch sending small sparks of pleasure jolting through her. Soft whines spilled from her lips as Spencer moved his hands around to grip her ass, gently massaging the flesh as she raised up on her knees.

With a committed roll of her hips and a quiet grunt, Y/N finally took the rest of his length, their bodies now flush together as her head dropped into the crook of his neck. The whorish moan Spencer released into her ear as he bottomed out had her clenching around him, a dire need to cause more of those sinful noises prompting her hips to begin moving. The raw stinging against her knees as she began to ride him in earnest only spurred her on, her nails digging into his shoulders as her head lolled back.

"Spence—" Y/N whimpered, resting her forehead against his as she panted out his name again and again, chanting it as though it were a mantra.

Spencer shushed her, understanding exactly what she couldn't manage to vocalize. He nodded against her as their bodies moved in tandem. "I know, baby. I know. You feel divine. My sweet angel." He continued to murmur out his praises as his head rested back on the edge of the couch cushion, small fingerprint-shaped bruises marking her skin as he clung to her.

Her hips began to falter as exhaustion started to settle into her bones from the vigorous pace she'd set, her second orgasm brewing in the pit of her stomach as though it were a wicked thunderstorm in waiting, ready to roll in and wreak havoc on her entire body at any minute. The slick sounds of their bodies connecting over and over paired with the symphony of heady moans and whimpers spilling between them—it was all driving her closer and closer to ecstasy.

Spencer noticed the fumble in her movements, his brows pinched together as he fought to keep his own climax at bay so he could enjoy the sensation of being wrapped up in her walls for a while longer. But he couldn't let his pretty girl do all of the work, could he? That would be cruel.

He planted his feet into the ground, beginning to pound into her from below. A satisfied smirk adorned his face as Y/N cried out, her head falling into the crook of his neck once more as she began to babble incoherently against his skin. The pace he set was fervent and unrestrained, the angle allowing him to drive into her g-spot repeatedly.

"Take it, take it, take it—" Spencer hissed through clenched teeth before he latched his mouth onto her right nipple, sucking at the bud and swirling his tongue around it.

Y/N threaded her fingers through his hair, hanging on tightly as Spencer ravaged her. Her mouth hung open as moan after moan wrenched itself from her core and embedded into his damp skin. The pleasure searing through her veins was consuming her, burning her from the inside out. She was so close—

The catalyst for her orgasm came in the form of Spencer's hands slipping down her ass and underneath her thighs so that the tips of his fingers were brushing against where they were connected with each thrust. All it took was that one simple touch for the tension in her body to snap, her teeth digging into his shoulder as she tried to muffle her screams while her walls pulsed around him violently. Her eyes squeezed shut as she wailed his name loudly, not caring if any of her neighbors heard them at this point. She wanted the world to know exactly who was making her feel this good.

Spencer toppled them over onto the ground as she came around him, pinning her to the ground and rutting into her fervently. Something akin to a sob fell from his lips before he abruptly pulled out, jerking his cock in quick strokes before he was spurting his cum across her stomach and tits with a cry of her name.

He crumpled to the ground beside her, pulling her into his side before he slung an arm over his face. Their chests heaved as they came down from their highs, both of them completely spent after such depraved lovemaking. His free hand stroked up and down her slick skin as she rested her head on his chest, calming the tremors wracking her body as they caught their breath.

Once Spencer regained feeling in his legs, he scooped Y/N from the floor and into his arms, hauling her off toward her bathroom as giggles bubbled from her lips at his surprising show of strength. Y/N watched with pure fondness as he started the shower, her heart swelling as he glanced back at her with a tired grin. When the water was warm enough, he held her hand as he helped her step in, following behind her with a hand wrapped around her waist to hold her steady.

After a shower spent lost in love-struck gazes, gentle caresses, and slow, tender kisses against the tiles, they ended up wrapped in each other's arms in her bed. It was only midday, but it was Saturday—so why not indulge in a nap? They had more than earned it after their (failed) movie marathon.

"Y'know," Y/N started, her voice low as fatigue began to cloud her mind. "You really do have massive hands." She took his hand, which had been resting loosely between them, lifting it to align with hers for comparison. His hand was nearly twice the size of hers, and the sight made her smile with amusement.

Spencer snorted, his nose scrunching as he laughed quietly at her observation.

"Well, yeah... I am 6'1", sweetheart. It would be abnormal if I didn't have massive hands," He stated matter-of-factly. "Besides, you love them. Really love them," He added with a sleepy smirk.

Y/N's face burned as she rolled her eyes, playfully shoving him with a scoff. "Yeah, yeah. It isn't my fault you have hands that were crafted by Michelangelo himself," She murmured defensively.

Spencer pulled her closer, brushing a kiss against her forehead, then her nose, her cheeks, and finally, her lips.

"You know I'm just teasing you. Did you know that—"

As Spencer began to prattle on about the variations and degrees of hand kinks and fetishes, Y/N's mind drifted back to the picture that had unknowingly set everything in motion. She couldn’t help but thank that raised crack in the sidewalk for pushing her old-fashioned boyfriend (that still felt so surreal to say) to embrace modern technology—because without it, she might have spent even more time blind to the fact that she was utterly, hopelessly in love with the man lying before her.

And as they drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms, Spencer felt a deep sense of gratitude for finally being able to love the beautiful woman in his arms the way he’d always dreamed of.

Continued A/N's: I felt evil for my first (published) fic being so angsty so I decided to write this as a formal apology LMAO. I had so much fun writing this, and I hope you have just as much fun reading it. Please tell me what you think and let me know if you'd like to see a sequel for this as well! :) K <3

[gardenvarietygay]

What to do now

Or how I stopped weeping and learned to love my community

I hate to remind everyone but the Trump administration will soon be in power. Don't bank on his platform only being campaign promises or rhetoric. Here's what you can do now to prepare for January and the years ahead.

This list is very incomplete, please add more information and organizations if you know of other issues that could use increased attention.

Healthcare:

Medicaid may soon be reduced or eliminated for many people. If you may soon become uninsured please visit a healthcare provider as soon as possible. If you are unsure of whether you are up-to-date on your vaccines, screenings, etc. call or visit your healthcare provider.

If you are uninsured, you can still receive healthcare at a Federally Qualified Health Center (FQHC). FQHCs can vary from area to area but always offer a sliding fee scale, meaning that what you pay for healthcare will be determined by your ability to pay. You can find a FQHC near your using this tool. Find a clinic or healthcare provider that will work for you now, before the administration changes. Heads up that if you live in a small town or a rural area, your FQHC will likely be in the nearest big town, all the more reason to figure out your plans now including transportation. (If you don't have a hospital in your town, your FQHC is likely in the nearest town with a hospital)

If you have been diagnosed with HIV/AIDS, the Ryan White Program is a federal program that provides HIV treatment to low-income patients. Find a program near you using this tool. Find the state hotline to call for help here. You can also visit your local AIDS project by searching "[name of state] AIDS project." Planned Parenthood and other sexual health centers can provide care, find clinics near you using this tool.

If you are capable of becoming pregnant, find an abortion fund here. I hesitate to give more specific advice on this post, the link will provide additional information. I know it's scary right now but please use legal, science-backed methods of abortion. We are not yet to the point where it is necessary to induce abortion using herbal remedies or other methods, many herbal abortifacients are dangerous to the life of the pregnant person.

Become involved with any and all of the above organizations. Donate, volunteer, spread the word. Most of these programs rely on a combination of federal funding and public support. It is likely that federal funding will be reduced or disappear under the incoming administration.

If you or a loved one are or will soon be eligible for medicare please be aware that traditional medicare and medicare advantage are two very different services. Traditional Medicare is the program which most Americans expect to receive when they turn 65. It is administered through the federal government. Medicare Advantage is a health insurance program provided through private insurance companies. For most patients, the care they receive will be better through Traditional Medicare. It is likely that the information on this issue will become less reliable from the government.

The Center for Disease Control is the main federal agency which provides guidance for public health, including vaccines for children. It will likely be weakened or otherwise prevented from making public health recommendations. Your primary care provider will still be aware of vaccine schedules and able to vaccinate but the burden may fall on you to ask for vaccines. Get in the habit of asking for information on the latest vaccines at every visit.

Environment:

We will need environmental orgs to fight new policies, sue the government, and stall at every turn. Donate to your favorite environmental nonprofit. None of them are perfect, many of them are effective. Find out more here.

Become involved at the local level. Join a local chapter of a national group or a local organization. Visit parks and conservation areas around you, pay attention to any signage that has the names of local organizations that help to maintain that area and join them. If you see "adopt a stream" or "adopt a highway" signs, call to see what the responsibilities for that program are and if you are able to help. In my area, you organize a group of people and call a phone number to register. The requirements are that you adopt the stream for one year and clean it at least twice for about two hours, then they put a sign up that says you've adopted it. They provide trash bags, reflective vests, gloves, hand sanitizer, and trash grabbers.

Obviously, cleaning up litter from a creek or helping maintain a public park doesn't fight climate change or prevent strip mining. Those are problems that require big solutions from well-funded organizations. Those problems are the reasons you donate to organizations like the Sierra Club. You protest and disrupt big projects with organizations like the Indigenous Environmental Network who helped to organize the Standing Rock protests against the Dakota Access Pipeline in 2016-17.

However, cleaning up litter from one creek does mean that there's one less creek that's clogged with litter. That's one more area that can better support wildlife, help prevent flooding, and connect vital habitat areas that are otherwise fragmented. The organizations that lobby, sue, and stall cannot spend their resources on local environmental projects just like you cannot individually prevent the government from leaving the Paris Agreement.

If you have access to any outdoor area where you can grow plants, you should be planting native species. A balcony, a window box, a patio, even a single flowerpot will make a difference to pollinators and wild birds. Use this tool from the National Wildlife Federation to find native plants which support the greatest number of insects in your area. Insects are a vital link in the food chain, particularly for wild birds whose numbers are in shocking decline. Learn more about planting with natives here. A directory of native plant nurseries can be found here. Native plants can also be purchased from the NWF through its Garden for Wildlife shop.

Humanitarian Issues:

The National Alliance to End Homelessness works with providers and lawmakers to end homelessness with a housing-first approach. They have resources to educate yourself on becoming a better advocate for people experiencing homelessness including things as simple as contacting your representatives.

Get involved with local LGBTQ+ centers. Local LGBTQ+ centers are not always members of national organizations so it can be difficult to find them through a central database. However, you can find an on-campus LGBTQ+ center through a university which may be able to help you directly or point you toward organizations which can help. LGBTQ+ centers frequently have resources for finding queer-friendly healthcare, business to work for, advocacy organizations, and more.

Please keep the people of Gaza and all of Palestine in your thoughts as we fight for change at home. The Middle East Children's Alliance is providing food, clean water, medical and psychological care to families in Gaza. Please donate to them if you can.

Likewise remember the struggle in the Democratic Republic of Congo, Goma Actif provide medical care, food, and water for displaced Congolese. Please donate here. (Text of the fundraiser is written in French first, scroll down to find the English translation further down the page.)

This is just what I've been able to come up with so far. Please add any ideas for actions that support yourself or your community.

[sugaredoleander]

i'm so blorbo-fiable, actually. unfortunate for me as i'm not a character as far as i'm aware, and in real life that's a recipe for misery that i have to actually go to therapy and Do The Work about. but i really would make for an excellent blorbo

[runa-falls]

FREE USE WITH MIGUEL? LIKE ANYWHERE ANYTIME?

a/n: YES NONNIE, ANY--FUCKING--TIME. AND HERES ONE OF THOSE TIMES :^) idk if this is free-use or feral!reader or both. anyway, just enjoy it lol. like every time, this got away from me

special thanks to mona (@whatthefishh) for letting me scream this shit to her over discord + for helping me figure out exactly what 'free use' is lol

cw: smut (18+), free use kink, small very small bit of somnophilia (CAN'T ESCAPE IT), non-explicit oral (m-receiving), afab!reader, mentions of ovulation (+ period) horniness, fingering, cockwarming, fucking w/ multiple orgasms, the same Spanish pet name used over and over, reader is basically a bothersome cat, writer is so all over the place it's confusing.

wc: 2.4k (this was supposed to be a quick thot but wtvr)

---

miguel is a gracious boyfriend, he practically lives to please you. so when you approach him in the middle of the day with nothing but his shirt draped over your figure, he has a hard time rejecting your advances.

sure, he tries, but every time he gives you what he wants.

you're spoiled, really.

miguel works at home as much as possible. he hates having to leave you before the sun rises, walking away from a perfectly cozy bed and wet cunt (😳).

miguel convinces himself that Spider HQ can survive a day or two without him on site. he has several capable Spiders that do most of the heavy lifting for him and LYLA isn't afraid to take charge, sitting her holographic ass in the boss' chair.

he can set up mission plans and keep track of everything from his laptop, and he's always on call if he is needed for anything. the only issue is that working remotely doesn't work when he can't get anything done.

he's trying to go over notes from a meeting that was held earlier this morning.

he was supposed to be there, but you physically wouldn't let him out of bed. he swears you're a Spider yourself with the strength you have when you're especially needy and sleepy.

he smelled it when he woke up in the middle of the night to you mouthing over his boxers, that decadent sweetness that indicates you're ovulating.

you were desperate to get a taste of him, to fill that unbearable emptiness inside of you, whimpering with relief when you finally feel his fingers bury themselves in your hair to push your further against his bulge.

he learned early in your relationship that your insatiable appetite for him increases tenfold during your window of fertility (don't even mention your period). and so does your need for sleep. so he caters to your needs accordingly.

you passed out after convincing him to fuck the heat out of you, to snuff out the fire until your neediness recedes. apparently, the only time you aren't horny is when you're sleeping (though that isn't true... you wake up horny all the time??).

you've been sleeping soundly ever since, utterly exhausted by his thorough support, but he knows that once you wake up, you'll be crying for him again.

he crawled back into bed with you after telling LYLA to take over for the day, but after a few hours of almost suffocating because of the way you curl up on his chest like a cat, he got up to get some coffee and finish some computer work.

as soon as his warmth left you, you fussed. eyes still closed as you whined and moaned for his body. he shushed you, gently smoothing down your bedhead until you settled.

it didn't last for long.

you padded out of bed with bleary eyes, clearly looking for him when you walked into the living room. he offered you a quick "morning, cariño." before focusing back on his computer. he had to limit as much contact with you as possible if he wanted to finish his work.

just a few more pages and a couple of emails, and then he can give you all the attention you need.

his shirt brushes against your thigh like a summer dress as you make your way through the room.

he looked adorable with his loose white long sleeve on and black dad-glasses. his hair is still curly and fluffed, telling you he wasn't planning on leaving you anytime soon.

you shuffle over to the couch, sitting next to him with a sigh.

he doesn't react.

somehow, the minimal recognition that you're there, his adamant refusal to look at you, turns you on as much as it irritates you.

he's really trying his best to be a good boss, hm? trying to resist a temptation that's barely a foot away from him.

it makes you feel dirty and deprived. you blatantly rub your legs together, urging him to look. your gaze washes over his sharp jawline watching as it clenches at your soft coos.

"...baby."

"'m working, amor." his voice is still soft, despite the efforts he's taking to ignore you.

you huff.

"but--"

"not right now."

you scoot closer to him, strategically allowing the hem of his shirt to ride up on your thighs. so he's really going to make you do it...

you tug at his sleeve, taking his arm away from his work (though it doesn't look like he was working on much at all, he's been sitting on that exact page for 5 minutes now).

"not right now, mi vida..." he protests lightly, but he doesn't move away. he's not even trying, you think.

you smirk at his empty words. you can see the way he's looking at you: your messy hair, bare legs, the shadow of his shirt hiding away your most sensitive spot. his breathing grows heavier and so does his stare.

"i have work--" miguel is always so soft and sweet to you, melting in your hand though he has all the power to stop it.

"please, miguel? just one, for me?" his lips part as you place his hand against your bare thigh, slowly dragging it upwards until it meets your center.

he doesn't take his hand away, doesn't even pull back a single inch, instead, he instantly complies, cupping his warm hand over its entirety. he chokes out a low groan. you're not wearing anything underneath.

"ok, i guess if it's only once..." he whispers, already breathy. he's leaning over you, almost on top of you, forcing your legs to spread impossibly wide.

he watches as his finger rubs against your slick center, spreading your wetness until you're glistening for him under the late morning light. he pushes in slowly, so slowly, eyes flicking up to your face to witness the small o your mouth makes as he presses in deeper.

his mouth waters as he fingers you, he wishes he had enough time to go down on you, and taste your slick straight from the source. he knows how much you love it when he fucks you with his tongue and suckles on your clit. but no, he has work to do. he needs to get you off so he can finally focus.

"this what you needed, cariño?" it's all but growled into your space, his voice low and taunting. all you can do is nod with bleary eyes as your hands grip onto his thick bicep for support.

he adds another finger and thrusts them into you quicker, angling them just so his palm can gently nudge at your clit. he can feel you tightening around him already, fluttering with each pass that he makes against your g spot. he presses harder, drinking in your choked gasp and shaking thighs.

you're so wet, spilling over his fingers and dripping against his hand. the noises between you are deafening. a mixture of sopping thrusts, heavy breathing, and quiet mewls fill the still silence of the living room.

he's so good at this, too good at this.

how can he make you fall apart with just his hands, caress every sensitive nerve with a single stroke?

you're at the cusp of euphoria. your body, filled to the brim with pleasure, urges you to let go, to take what you want. but you don't want to. you want to stay at the edge forever with his hands on you, to be at the center of his affections, always just one breath away from transcendence.

you're not ready for him to stop touching you anytime soon, you realize. you still need it and after you'll need it again. you need him.

his glasses start sliding as he looks down at you, dropping until they're barely at the tip of his nose. he's focused, eyes locked on how he fills you again and again.

his fingers speed up, expertly aiming against that special spot inside of you. your hips rise from the couch, needing him as deep as possible. then it all falls apart.

you cry out, back arching and eyes rolling. your body is barely touching the couch under you and it feels like you're being lifted up by unknown forces as you reach your climax. white fills your vision and heat thrums through your limbs. you can't hide your one orgasm from him, it's too intense.

before you could recover, he slips his fingers out of you.

"alright, honey, we're done." he casually sucks your essence off of his fingers before propping his glasses back to the arch of his nose.

"ok, ok, i get it. you're busy." you pant, still pulsing from your high. and...he's already back to work. he wasn't kidding when he said he had stuff to do. "i'll just...be sitting here."

so you watch him get back to work, or you try to. the incessant scrolling, typing, reading, and muttering thoughts that accompany his work is usually enough to put you to sleep. it's an unusual lullaby that's attached to him. one that brings you the comfort of knowing he's near.

but he's hard.

he seems so relaxed, so content to work, but his erection presses so desperately against his sweats, outlined perfectly by the grey fabric.

so how could you not touch him? he clearly needs your help... and if he doesn't, then you need it.

you want to be good, you do, but when he types so effortlessly like that with the fingers that were just stuffed in your cunt, or when he looks over his dad-glasses to look at something like a hot fucking nerd, you can't help it.

it's been, what, 12 minutes? that's enough work for the day in your opinion.

you start slow, hesitantly, watching to make sure he's not looking at you (though he can clearly see you from his peripheral vision). you stand up on the couch right next to him. you're a bit unstable on the squishy cushions so you use his shoulder for support.

he looks over at you, confused as to why you decided to walk all over the furniture like a toddler.

you carefully maneuver over his arms to settle yourself on his lap. you're a koala around him, holding your torso to his, looping your arms around his neck and sharing your shimmering lustful body heat. he grunts when you scoot even closer to him, your bare pussy pressing entirely against his covered cock.

but he ignores it.

he doesn't say anything, barely even moves, and just continues to work. you pout a bit, but let him. you convince yourself that you're content with just sitting here and enjoying his company (despite the large distraction that pulses against your pussy, pressing so sweetly under your needy clit).

you listen to his steady heartbeat and slow breaths, the occasional sound of tapping keys. you nuzzle against the soft shirt that stretches over his chest. you're fine.

it's not like you're leaking all over his sweatpants, leaving a puddle at the apex of the fabric. you're not crying on the inside, so empty and fluttering around nothing. you're fine.

until you arent.

you lazily lift your hips above his, nearly head-butting his chin in the process. his arms lift to help you get settled, hands resting on your waist, as patient as ever.

you reach below you and he stiffens. he wasn't expecting you to--

your hand buries itself under his sweats, delicate fingers brushing over his erection. he breathes out your name when you squeeze him teasingly before pulling him out.

"what did i say?" he grunts, hand swiftly wrapping around your wrist. the words are lost on your ears as you caress the silky steel in your fist. it pulses at your touch. he needs this.

he says your name once more.

"you're working."

"then why are you trying to fuck me?!"

"i'm only going to sit on it." you give him an innocent look. you slowly lower yourself so your dripping center meets his before sliding your glistening lips over his hardness. "won't move or say a thing, promise!"

"cariño..."

"just wanna warm you, baby." you position him right against your entrance. "is that so wrong?" you lower yourself before he can say anything else.

you take him easily with how wet you are, and he fills you perfectly. he sucks in a breath at the feeling then growls out, "don't move."

well, you do move (is anyone surprised). you move a lot. but he moves too. harsher and more competitive. who the hell fucks competitively?

you moan over him, bouncing on his cock eagerly. his hands hold your waist, guiding your movements just how he likes it: fast and hard. his laptop, somewhere on the other side of the couch, is forgotten and probably long dead by now. so much for working at home.

you've cum at least four times already, but who's keeping count (you're not. you're so fucked out, you have to manually breathe now.)

he won't let up anymore. you asked for it and you're getting it.

"do i gotta fuck you to sleep, hm? is that the only way you'll leave me the fuck alone and let me work?"

you only admit now that you're eyes were definitely bigger than your stomach. you're practically drooling as he takes control once again, snapping his hips from under you, harsh and punishing. as if this is a punishment.

he has to carry you back to bed that afternoon. he couldn't just leave you on the couch, naked and shivering. plus you'd be a distraction with your bruised hips and fucked out cunt.

you murmur adorably in your sleep as your body unconsciously nuzzles further into his arms. he places you lovingly on the bed and you immediately curl up. he sighs, brushing your hair out of your face because he knows how much you hate it when it gets in your eyes or tickles at your nose during the night.

you look so cozy and comfortable. but so alone in this huge bed.

he debates laying down with you, only until you're in a deeper sleep.

maybe just a few minutes?

LYLA had a few choice words when he woke up in the morning....

[tgirlwithreverb]

I saw that post about what to do if you're homeless again (the one that starts by telling you to spend all of your money on motel rooms lmao) anyway, here's a few thoughts, specifically for trans girls, cuz I don't really care otherwise tbh:

1) plan ahead, most trans girls are in precarious housing situations, you will have a much easier time when it falls apart if you already have a pack with most of the gear you need in it. Also, if you find yourself in a situation where you cant make rent, dont pay part of it, spend that money on gear, pocket the rest and leave, youll have a much nicer time. Look up your local eviction laws, you have plenty of time. (Gear list at the end)

2) travel! If you're in Arizona in May, leave. it's about to be hot as hell. If you're in Michigan in October, leave. It's about to be cold as hell. If you're in a big city, leave. It's way easier to be homeless pretty much anywhere else. Amtrak is cheaper and more comfortable than greyhound, hitchhiking is free and easy, if you're alone it's not that much slower than the previous two, and it's more fun, and sometimes people buy you food or whatever or give you money. I promise it's not scary and you're entirely capable of doing it, no matter who you are. 95+% of people who will pick you up are very nice. All you have to do is take the bus out of town, as far down the highway you can, to an exit with a truck stop if possible, then just stand on the side of the road with your thumb out until someone picks you up. You can stand at the bottom of the ramp(on the highway) near where the merge lane ends or at the top of the ramp(where there's usually a traffic light), the former is more likely to lead to cop interactions but will maybe get you a ride faster, check on hitchwiki for how the cops are in the area. don't be afraid to take a commuter bus or Amtrak to get out of a shitty cop area

3) skip shelters if you can (they are very occasionally a decent place to get stuff from) and encampments, good places to sleep include the trees near railroad tracks or highways, wooded areas behind shopping centers, sections of parks without paths, overgrown empty lots. Hang a tarp above you if there's an appreciable chance of rain, there's tons of YouTube tutorials on how to do this, maybe I'll make a post about what I usually do some day. There are many habits more fun than motel rooms, save your money for them lmao.

4) get on food stamps. This is easier in some places than others, but it makes the whole thing a lot easier. Just tell them you're homeless, if they don't give you a card the same day, you can probably ask to pick it up from that office, alternatively some drop in centers/day shelters can receive mail for you, or you can have it sent to general delivery(USPS service, look it up)

7) libraries are great for charging your phone and using wifi, but also keep an eye out, plenty of random outlets on the outsides of buildings are also powered

5) dumpster. sidewalk trash cans, Aldi, Einstein's, trader Joe's, pizza places, etc. You need to develop a bit of a sense for it but it's an easy way to get cooked food or travelling food or expensive food without spending resources. Also it's fun.

6) water is free, go into the bathroom of any gas station or grocery store in America(offer not valid in most big cities or on the west coast, but in that case just go to the library) and fill up your water bottle

8) hygiene notes: truckers get free showers from chain truck stops(loves, pilot/flying j) go there and ask them. convenient if you're hitchhiking, also you don't need to shower 3 times a day, really, you'll survive. Ditto with deodorant. Take care of your teeth though. Take your socks off every. day. Change them consistently. Safety razors give a good shave, work well without adequate water pressure, and the replacement blades are very stealable, they're kind of heavy though. Walmart makes these electric razors for women that take AA batteries and are pretty light but give a worse shave, also they kinda go through batteries, pick whatever works for you(cartridge razors suck)

9) traveling food notes: peanut butter is great, tortillas and bagels travel pretty well, tuna packets are pretty good protein for traveling(the ones with rice and beans or whatever are nice since theyre often the same price as the regular), condiment packets are free, hot sauce makes everything better, and mayo goes well with tuna and has a bunch of calories in it, salad dressing packets are free from truck stops and work well turning the Walmart shredded vegetable packages (labeled for making into slaw, next to the bagged salads) into a salad with real vegetables(not iceberg lettuce) in it or mixing in with tuna packets for even more calories than mayo

Gear world:

Necessary items(in order of importance): a gallon of water carrying capacity(an Arizona jug or other twist top jug is conventional, but a bladder+arizona bottles also works), a tarp(larger than 6'x9', not brightly colored), a hank of parachord, a sleeping bag (20° rated, synthetic insulation), a backpack with a padded hip belt(at least 50L, no more than 75), rain gear(a rain poncho might cover your pack too, a rain jacket can help with wind when its cold, a trash bag inside or outside your pack can keep it dry, a plan to watch the weather and not get caught also works), a z-fold foam sleeping pad, three pairs of socks, two pairs of underwear (at least one pair of boxer breifs strongly recommended if you arent incredibly skinny), a decent pair of shoes with good arch support, a functional jacket(skip if you got a rain jacket before), a base layer(wool or poly, absolutely no cotton)

Convenient items: a sleeping bag liner(cotton free, keeps you warm in winter and cool in summer), gallon zip locks to pack your stuff in(helps keep it dry and organized), no more than one change of clothes(as light as possible), a multi-tool(can opener, pliers, wire cutter), lighter(burning rope ends etc), spoon, floss and needles for patching

[luffington]

young master ♡

➤ summary: You don't worship the ground Doflamingo walks on, and it turns him on a little too much. (18+)

➤ pairing: doflamingo x afab!reader

➤ word count: 3.7k

➤ warnings: kinda sub!doflamingo (he’s a horny menace), mild dubcon, possessive doffy, spit kink, oral (f receiving), masturbation (m receiving), degradation, name-calling

➤ notes: this takes place before dressrosa but i’m only halfway done with the arc so sorry for any inaccuracies! i haven't posted my writing online in years so please lmk what you think :3

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

Doflamingo was sulking. His signature smile was comically turned upside down and his arms were crossed over his chest. Feet resting on top of his desk as he leaned back in his plush office chair, crumpling the important documents strewn underneath them that he was meant to review and sign. He knew he probably looked like a petulant child, and he felt like one, too. This was all your fucking fault.

Even though you were only in your twenties, you were already a well-known Vice Admiral. Vergo had informed Doflamingo of your impressive Haki abilities months ago, but that wasn’t the only reason he kept a close eye on you. You were sexy as hell, even in a Marines uniform, and he delighted in every brief interaction he had with you at Warlord meetings. When you decided to take some time off, he snatched you up immediately with a tantalizing job offer. After all, working for him was technically still a Government job, and he was helping so many countries in need!

You made it clear from the very beginning that this was a temporary gig and you had no intention of permanently joining the Donquixote Family. You were his business partner, not his subordinate. He never planned on honoring that agreement, of course, but you were making his plans particularly difficult. 

The man had hundreds of thousands – if not millions – of loyal and passive subjects. Obedient workers who never questioned his judgment and praised his iron fist, from the filthy commoners at the bottom to the Elite Officers up top. But not you. 

You had the kind of effortless confidence that got under his skin. You were unbothered and detached from his evil antics, from him. He made his presence known everywhere he went and was always the focus of the room, but it seemed like you paid more attention to the damn servants than him. His threats and intimidation which made thousands tremble in fear hardly made you flinch. When he revealed the secret of Dressrosa’s toys in hopes of getting a reaction from you, you practically yawned. 

You knew who he was. You knew what he was capable of. You didn’t fucking care.

You weren’t afraid of him, and this greatly disturbed him.

A few days ago, you had strolled into his office without even knocking on the door. He furrowed his eyebrows in annoyance, but you barely took notice. You were there to discuss your agreement in order to figure out a time frame of how long he needed you. He threw his head back and laughed loudly as he said, “That’s adorable. You really think you can get away from me, hm?”

Perceptive as always, you noticed the slightest twitch of his middle finger and immediately held an Armament Haki-coated hand in front of your chest, blocking the nearly invisible string flung your way. “Doffy, I’m being serious.”

He frowned and narrowed his eyes. Diamante used that nickname once in front of you and now you wouldn’t call him anything else. You thought it was cute. “Since when can you block my strings?”

“Do you really think I’d be a Vice Admiral if I couldn’t do that? You were so obvious about it, too.” You clicked your tongue, knowing full well that anyone less powerful than you wouldn’t be able to perceive his movement. Prominent veins popped in Doflamingo’s forehead but the blonde man stayed silent. “I think I’ll stay here for a few more months, at least. Maybe longer if I don’t have a terrible time here. Dressrosa is kind of growing on me.” 

“You’re acting like I can’t keep you here by force.” Doflamingo interrupted your train of thought. “I could have Sugar turn you into a cute little doll, and then your Vice Admiral position would disappear. Or Giolla could turn you into a painting to hang on my wall.” He paused as if considering his options, knowing full well what he truly wanted. “Maybe I’ll keep you tied up with strings as my own personal pet.”

Many times he’d pictured you tied to the headboard of his bed, stripped naked and covered in his drying cum as he used you however he wanted. Perhaps then he’d finally ignite a spark of fear in you. 

“If you actually wanted to do that, it would’ve happened already. But you’re the one who hired me, remember?” You acted like you were explaining something obvious to a kid. “If you try anything against me, I can always call up the Navy and tell them what you’re doing to your poor innocent citizens. Maybe even let them know your alias? Begins with a J, right?”

“You wouldn’t dare.” He snarled, sitting up in his seat immediately and binding strings around your wrists to keep them pinned above your head. You kept your eyes trained on his, a determined and almost taunting glint in them. 

“I’m not a big fan of blackmail, so I don’t want to do that,” you replied in an even tone. “I’m just saying that I can. Now, are we gonna talk business, or are you gonna play cat’s cradle all day?”

Doflamingo should’ve killed you right then and there. That would’ve put an end to his confusing thoughts about you, but your conversation only made them worse. You were on his mind constantly, to the point where he couldn’t focus on anything else. It was an obsession, an infatuation, one completely unbecoming of a heavenly being like himself. People were meant to grovel at his feet and kiss the very ground he walked on – why the fuck were you not affected?

He finally had enough. He pushed the chair away from his desk and stormed out of his office. Servants hurried away in fear, knowing that his scowl and heavy footsteps meant nothing but trouble. A whirlwind of thoughts swirled around his mind — he wanted to make you scream, to completely immobilize you with his power, to kiss you so hard you saw stars. No, that wasn’t it. 

He wanted you to call him ‘Young Master’. 

Doflamingo threw open the double doors to a secluded drawing room in his typical dramatic flair. You were alone, reclining on a couch and reading a book. Even this pissed him off – you were in a potential viper’s nest, surrounded by powerful people who could turn on you at any point, yet you didn’t feel the need to keep others around you for protection. You turned your head towards the intruder in confusion. His massive body filled the door frame and light from the hallway illuminated him and his feathery coat from behind, making him look like a fallen angel.

“What Devil Fruit did you eat.” It was a statement, not a question. His voice was a dangerously low growl. 

“I already told you, I didn’t eat one.” You said slowly, slightly thrown off by his demeanor but still not afraid. 

“You lying bitch!” He roared, using his strings to slam the doors behind him as he crossed the room towards you in three giant steps. “You must have some kind of mind control ability, or manipulation, or… I don’t fucking know! Tell me what’s happening!” He threw his head in his hands and crouched over, almost as if he was in pain. “Why can’t I stop fucking thinking about you!”

Your mouth opened slightly and you blinked a few times to process the situation, and then it hit you. A sly grin slowly formed on your face as you dog-eared your book and set it down next to you. You knew this man was incapable of love in its purest sense, but maybe… “Doffy, have you never been attracted to someone before?”

His head shot up and he narrowed his eyes at you furiously behind his sunglasses. Of course he’d fucking been attracted to people – he refused to settle for nothing but the best with his lovers. He had fucked enough sexy men and women over the years to form a small army. But none of them were like you. 

They were all cheaply made toys, suitable for one or two uses then tossed in the trash when they broke or when he got bored. He was a greedy and spoiled child who always got what he wanted. But with you… it felt like he was staring through the front window of a shop at a shiny new toy. So close and so enticing but completely out of reach.

“Fuck you! I… I…” You would never know how that sentence was supposed to end, because he sunk to his knees and hung his head in frustrated shame. He slammed his fist against the floor hard enough to rattle the room. “Why won’t you belong to me?!”

The almighty King of Dressrosa, the feared Warlord, the powerful underground broker, was on his knees begging for you. He knew he sounded pathetic. He felt pathetic. But he couldn’t go a moment longer without getting what he wanted, what was rightfully his. 

To say you were shocked was an understatement. You had always stood your ground because you knew your worth, but sometimes you did it to purposely push the blonde man’s buttons since no one else seemed to have the courage to do so. But you were just teasing him – this was not the outcome you had in mind. 

You slowly stood from the couch to move in front of him. Even bent over, the massive man was practically your height, but he had never seemed smaller.

“Doffy,” you began in a quiet voice and reached out to gently touch his feather-clad shoulder, but he slammed the ground again. 

“I don’t need you to patronize me! I need…” he trailed off again and hesitated for a moment before realizing what he needed to do to calm the fire roaring inside him. Fine, he would give you a fucking reason to worship him. He threw himself at your midsection, making you yelp in surprise. He had finally drawn a reaction out of you, and it spurred him on even more. Rough hands yanked your shirt up to your breasts and he hungrily mouthed at the soft skin of your tummy, a frenzied mess of tongue and teeth and soft lips. “I need you. Give yourself to me.” He said breathlessly, punctuating his words with a sharp bite at your hip. 

You were frozen in place but weak in the knees, unable to do anything but accept his bites and bruises. You’d be lying if you said you’d never imagined what his long tongue and nimble fingers felt like on your body, in your body. He nipped at your skin hard enough to bruise then soothed it with his tongue, sending heat straight to your core. 

Doflamingo was in a drugged-like haze, mind clouded with a dizzying mix of lust and hatred and longing. He belatedly noticed that you weren’t resisting him when he popped the button on your jeans. When he looked up, he realized your cheeks were flushed and your gaze was trained on his long fingers dancing along the waistband of your pants. 

He smiled wickedly, feeling a sliver of regained control. “You fucking whore. You want this, don’t you?”

“Doffy, you’re the one literally trying to get in my pants.”

“Shut up.” He snarled, annoyed yet allured by your sweet giggle afterwards. He yanked your jeans down to your ankles to reveal pretty pink lace panties underneath. They practically matched the color of his coat – you had to have worn those just for him. Might as well take them later. 

A needy and unashamed whine tore from his lips when he saw your pussy. Even more perfect than he’d imagined all those times he fucked his fist alone in bed. He told himself this was what was necessary to crush that annoying ego of yours, knowing full well he was nearly shaking with pure carnal desire. He grabbed your hips hard enough to bruise and shoved your thighs apart before diving in. His tongue was ravenous, licking a sloppy stripe from your ass to your clit, mouth closing around the nub and sucking harshly. The sweetest moan he’d ever heard fell from your lips and he echoed it, eager to hear more. 

Fingers tangled in his short blonde hair as you tried to steady yourself. It was too much all at once. You tried to tug him away to tell him to slow down, yet wanted to pull him even closer. Doflamingo flinched at the contact. Part of him wanted to tie your hands behind your back because how dare you touch him without permission. But instead, he groaned at the rough pull on his scalp, which went straight to his hardening cock. His grip on you tightened as he dragged you further onto his face.

His long tongue lapped messily at your folds then slipped into your cunt, shallowly thrusting the wet tip in and out. He laughed in delight at your delicious juices coating his tastebuds and making his head spin.

“You’re so fucking wet.” He panted and rubbed his nose against your clit, making you jump. A sloppy string of his saliva still connected his mouth to your entrance. “I think you like me after all.”

“I’d like anyone who eats me out this good,” you quipped.

“But no one’s as good as me, hm?” To prove his point, he shoved the entirety of his skilled tongue deep inside you. You threw your head back and whined as the wet muscle curled and twisted inside you, hungrily lapping at your sensitive inner walls. “No one will ever be as good as me. Say you’re mine and you can have this every day.”

“F-fuck, Doffy… so, mmh, good…” He ate you out like a man starved, desperately sucking at every part of your pussy he could reach. One hand moved from your hip, leaving dark blue fingerprint-shaped bruises behind, and plunged into his own pants. He let out a deep groan at the contact.

“Call me Young Master.” Doflamingo breathed heavily as he pulled his pants down slightly. Your jaw dropped when he revealed his massive and fully erect dick, leaking beads of precum and bobbing against his stomach. You knew he’d be big based on his height, but this was inhuman. The blonde man noticed your hungry gaze and chuckled. “You want me so badly. Stop denying the truth and I’ll give you everything you want. I am a benevolent king, after all.”

You actually laughed at that, and he didn’t even try to be angry – being on full display for you meant he couldn’t hide the way your disobedience made his cock twitch. His other hand slithered between your legs and rubbed at your folds and the smile fell off your face.

You stumbled backwards – there was nothing behind you to lean on and your legs were quickly turning into jelly. “W-wait, Doffy, I can’t, ahh, l-let me sit…”

Two of his fingers moved downwards and bound your feet to the floor with his string. Immobilizing your bottom half like a statue but intentionally leaving your top half free to grab at his hair and body as you pleased. “Your king will grant you permission to move when I want to.” 

“S’okay, I l-like seeing you look up to me for once.” Your witty reply was lost on the blonde, who had spread your folds apart and was hypnotized by your entrance clenching around nothing. You were so fucking tiny compared to him and he ached at the thought of molding your insides to take him and him alone.

Just one thick finger was enough to make you moan and pant, slowly pushing its way inside your cunt. “Shit, you’re so tight.” The soft squelches of your inner walls rang in his ears and pretty pearls of precum leaked from his dick. “Perfect fucking pussy. Give it to me.”

A second digit was soon added, scissoring you apart expertly. Unsurprisingly, the man really knew how to use his fingers. He crooked them and brushed against your most sensitive spot, causing you to cry out and hold onto him even harder. Sharp teeth playfully bit at your inner thigh in response. Doflamingo gathered some of the constant dribble of precum from the tip of his cock to lube his rough palm. He considered making you spit on his hand to ease the glide, but a better idea came to mind.

“Spit in my mouth.” He ordered, tilting his head up and sticking his tongue out. Waiting for you to follow his command like a good toy.

You were taken aback by the sudden request, but you gathered a ball of spit in your mouth like you were told… and it landed directly on the lens of his sunglasses, obscuring the vision of one eye. Doflamingo knew that it wasn’t just badly aimed. This was an act of defiance. You intentionally spit on his defining accessory, his very essence.

“You stupid slut.” The venomous insult came with a maniacally pleased grin. He pushed the stained glasses onto his forehead and you finally saw his eyes for the first time. Gorgeous and bright blue with lust-blown pupils. Looking at his beautifully depraved expression in its entirety, you briefly wondered if he really was an angel. His fingers sped up to a nearly brutal pace and he slipped in a third digit, causing you to choke on your spit. “Love me. Love me.”

A divine being who fell from heaven to beg at your feet. 

“Y-you’re fucking insane,” you panted with a blissful smile, your cunt clenching down deliciously on him. “Make up your, mmh, mind.”

“Adore me.” He responded immediately. “Say you’re mine. Be mine.”

Even though you refused to respond, the blonde was lost in his fantasies yet grounded in the reality of your beautiful face scrunched up in pleasure. Mouth hanging open, hands nearly going numb from how hard you held onto him. He needed to see you like this every day – no, every hour. He could keep you under his desk like a pet, ready to suck his dick whenever he allowed you to. Or maybe you’d sit in his lap all day, one of his hands fondling your tits as he attended meetings and forced his subordinates to watch him play with his favorite toy. 

But that was too mundane. He could snatch up anyone in Dressrosa right now and do the same. No, the twisted fantasy that really made his cock ache was already happening. That annoyingly sexy confidence of yours was threatening his godliness. 

Maybe he’d make you step on him next time.

“Call me Young Master,” he begged again, too far gone to realize how ridiculous he sounded. Tongue hanging out like a dog (and panting like one, too), he rutted into his hand even faster. His cock was absolutely throbbing, red and angry and dripping precum. He was in no position to be giving orders. You stifled a giggle with your hand, which quickly turned into a moan as his fingers bumped against your cervix. 

“I already t-told you,” you sucked in a few shaky breaths. He was watching you intently and still smiling, but his fingers never slowed down. “You’re not my –mm– Master, I don’t, ahh, work for you…”

“But why not?” He whined again. “At least call me it when you cum. I’ll fucking kill you if you don’t.” 

You didn’t acknowledge the ridiculously empty threat, instead throwing your head back when his fingers crooked against your most sensitive spot. Slick was dribbling down your legs – Doflamingo licked it off of your thighs before slurping around his digits buried inside you. The blonde echoed your unashamedly loud moans, practically on the edge himself. He only needed one thing to send him into a rapturous white bliss. 

He stared up at you unblinkingly, face frozen in a grin as he took in all the telltale signs of your approaching orgasm. Sweat dribbled down your forehead, eyebrows furrowed together, body tense and breath hot. “I-I’m gonna… gonna…” He crooked his fingers inside you the way he’d done thousands of times to turn people into obedient little puppets.

“Doffy~!” Your face contorted into the most divine expression he’d ever seen, crying out his name like a desperate prayer. 

You ignored his order. You used that stupid fucking nickname. 

He came hard. 

The tight coil that had been building in his groin for days at the mere thought of you finally snapped. An animalistic moan left his lips as thick ropes of cum coated his hand and spilled onto his abdomen. He looked even more blissed out than you, panting hard and shuddering and nearly overstimulating himself with the hand on his cock still slowly moving up and down. 

Doflamingo finally removed his fingers from inside you and loudly sucked them clean of your essence. Still craning his neck upwards so he wouldn’t break eye contact with you. You could lose yourself inside that piercing gaze, so full of obsession and hunger, especially when it was coming from a position of worship rather than condescension. 

Blinking out of your stupor, you realized the blonde’s cum-coated hand was in front of your mouth. If you were anyone else, he would’ve shoved his fingers all the way to your throat and made you choke on it. Instead, he stayed still and kept quiet. This was an offering. 

You grabbed his wrist and kitten-licked his sticky palm twice, humming thoughtfully as if appraising the taste. His grin grew even wider. Then you pulled away and teasingly said, “You take care of the rest of it.”

Doflamingo simply giggled in delight — you’d willingly tasted the essence of a god, one that was soon to be your god, but you were still too stubborn to give in. He didn’t expect you to crumble so easily and he didn’t want you to. He was having way too much fun. The blonde smeared the rest of his cum on the crotch of the pink panties still pooled around your ankles. 

“That’s disgusting.” You huffed in annoyance and rolled your eyes. “What am I supposed to wear out of here?”

The man chuckled lowly and rose to his feet, suddenly towering above you at full height. He wiped the dried spit off of his sunglasses before returning them to their rightful place on the bridge of his nose. 

“Who said anything about leaving?” You paled at the sight of his devilish grin but felt your core clench in need. “You still haven’t called me by my proper title.”

[hazbin-writings-and-musings]

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader Smutty Headcanons

I promised on this LM x Reader post things would get spicy soon, so here we are, coming so far from my first post! Just the first of probably many more smutty Lucifer posts, because we all know this man fucks and we all want a piece.

Warnings: SMUT

- This man legitimately loves everything about eating pussy. He loves performing it, he loves bragging about how well he performs it, he loves giving tips because he believes in respecting the craft, and he loves putting down anyone too entitled to provide what he sees as this most enjoyable of services for one's partner. You don't even have to ask him to go down on you, it'll be one of the first things he offers, and he'll regularly ask if you're interested in letting off a little steam. Having the ability to extend and shapeshift his tongue into having an opposable forked tip makes him capable of techniques beyond your wildest fantasies, and whether you like to receive from above or below, he's equally down to have you seated on his face or laying back to enjoy yourself.

- He's not poorly or overly endowed for a man of his size, but he's also quite literally the one who originally proved that size doesn't matter in the slightest, and he's had thousands of years to perfect those original techniques. From position to tempo, he's mastered everything he needs to hit the G-spot with impeccable accuracy, and his hands will be quite busy seeking out where you most enjoy attention as he rides you with the power and virility of an untamed stallion. All this combined results in a mind blowing time for you, every time, and he's got the stamina to answer all of your repeated requests for another round.

- Nevermind the magic he can work with his tongue or his dick, the King of Hell is also a wizard with his fingers. He's even got a carpal tunnel roller just to keep his dexterity in top shape for when his skills are needed. Finding your clit is effortless for him, and he'll show it all the love he thinks you deserve, responding eagerly to your feedback in the moment and putting his mouth to use on your neck as he does so. Whether you want him inside, outside or both at the same time, he's happy to provide, and he'll gladly push his wrists to the limit if it leaves you properly satisfied.

- If you offer to be the one servicing him, he'll happily accept, and you'll quickly find his mannerisms shift quite considerably when he's on the receiving end. He starts out confident, offering banter to match your own, but as soon as your mouth gets to work, his demeanor changes. A grin becomes an open mouthed moan, his hands tenderly take hold of you to ground himself, and witty quips turn to soft and needy sighs. The more heated things get, the more he loses himself, but it's a great way for you to gauge how well you're performing. Growls and an appearance of his horns are a sign he's really having a good time, especially considering he's always got steam to blow off. Particularly rough days will result in him losing all control by climax; fully extended wings and horns, an unfurled tail he wraps about you, hair disheveled and clinging to a fine layer of sweat, and more than a few reality bending bursts of power surging around the both of you. It's his favorite way to end the day on a good note. He'll pull his fingers from your hair as he breathlessly apologizes for the show, but the both of you know watching him go feral is part of the fun.

- The afterglow is peak cuddle time for him, and he'll be in no hurry to get dressed if there's somewhere either of you needs to be, so more than a few of his duties will end up delayed thanks to post-coital bliss. All six wings will seek you out for a fluffy embrace, and if the two of you are at all winded, the otherworldly softness of Archangel feathers might make staying awake quite impossible. Should you have some energy to spare though, he'll want to actively enjoy the snuggle. Hearing you breathe, feeling his skin against yours, and engaging in pillow talk just make him the happiest little guy. Such moments really allow him to let his guard down, and you might hear him speak with a softness and hopefulness that rarely leaves the bedroom, but he's just as interested in listening as he is in talking. Don't be too surprised if he drifts off with his head in your boobs though.

[aayakashii]

How would they react if you received a confession from some random student?

Warning: yandere behavior, possessiveness, A LOT of manipulation etc etc you know the drill

Gasp! You received a confession! A human student fell for you and confessed that they have had a huge crush on you ever since they saw you in the admission ceremony. They even invited you on a date! You're so excited! But... wait... how will your ghouls react to that...?

Fuji Kaito

Absolutely distraught.

He knew you first! He was supposed to be your first option!

He doesn't try to hide how desperately jealous he is.

Bombards you with self-deprecating messages that do more harm than good because it gets super annoying after a while.

Stops eating properly and pays even less attention to class, which makes him take even more remedial classes.

Asks you for your help immediately. He's so insistent on you tutoring him, that you end up saying yes just so he'll stop whining.

He happily creates a schedule that eats up most of your time, so you can only see him every single day. After all, he has such a hard time learning! You gotta help him a lot 🥺 and no, Luca isn't an option.

It's almost like he planned this... but nah, that's Kaito we're talking about. He wouldn't do this, right

Right?

Lucas Errant

He doesn't really understand what he's feeling at the moment

At first, he has a positive reaction – after all, you're an amazing person! It's only obvious you'd have admirers.

But then he finds himself thinking more and more about it.

Is that person capable of protecting you? Do they possess any type of skill in combat so they can fend off anomalies? Will they pay attention to your needs? Will they hold your hand when they walk you home? Will they actually walk you home when it's late??????

He starts worrying more and more about your safety until he can't brush off his concerns any longer.

He will not approve of this relationship. He's pretty sure that person isn't capable of providing you with all you need and deserve.

At least not like he can. He knows he can protect you. So... stay with him instead, will you?

Ishibashi Tohma

Hm... Really. So you have a little admirer. How cute.

Tohma couldn't be more obvious with the disdain and contempt towards the person who confessed to you.

He always manages to spot you wherever you are, just to steal you away and drag you with him to do something 'important'.

"Why yes, you must come with me to pick up this order of tea leaves I have put on. Of course I can't do this alone, you have to learn the ropes of my work since you're my dear helper."

You better not be thinking about going on dates. Tohma will ruin all your plans by summoning you to his side as soon as you step out of your dorm.

He will control your time and your schedule until you forget entirely about that silly little person who tried to take you away from him.

And when you hear the first whispers of awful rumors about that person, Tohma already has his hands on you, permanently dragging you away from them and their terrible influence.

As if he wasn't the one that spurred the gossip in Frostheim from the very beginning.

Kamurai Jin

No. Just no.

Don't even think about it.

You just aren't allowed any distractions from your work for him. You're his servant.

Actually, sratch that. You're his, period.

The fact that someone would be so bold to try and take you away from him is unbelievable.

And you're CONSIDERING their confession? Are you insane? What do they have to offer you? How can you even begin to think of them as more important than him?

You're crazy if you think he'll just let you go and date some peasant.

Jin WILL bribe the person who confessed to you to make them go away in a heartbeat.

He's convinced that everyone will fold when they're faced with money. Everyone but himself, because he already has it all.

All except you, apparently.

Jin will offer them a life changing amount of money just to keep them away from you.

Don't worry, he'll be right there to see your little heartbroken face when you're walk back to him after all that.

He'll take his sweet time picking up your pieces and putting you back together.

Mido Alan

Alan stuffs his hands inside his pockets and scowls as soon as you let him know about someone confessing to you.

Oh, he despises that idea.

At first, he wonders whether it is because he might see you as a little sibling or... some other platonic thing... that activates his protective instinct.

But then he sees you crack a little smile as you talk about actually going on dates, and the jealousy he feels is simply undeniable.

Alan may be stoic, but he's very well acquainted with his ugliest feelings.

And this jealousy is simply the most hideous thing.

Do you know that person? Do you think they truly care about you? No. They don't. At least not like him.

Alan doesn't say all that openly, but he hangs around you for longer and longer, like a guard dog. Arms crossed and scowling, ready to pounce at anyone crazy enough to invade his space.

And obviously, you're in his space. You're the only one allowed in it. The only one he wants attached at his hip.

He eventually wins by wearing down his competition. After all, no one is brave enough to poke this lion with a short stick.

You're just not worth them risking their lives like that...

Don't worry, Alan is right by your side to pet your little head and comfort you.

He'll always be by your side.

Haizono Sho

Well, look at you. Being popular and shit. Gotta be feeling good, huh?

Kinda upsetting that the one who likes you is a loser that definitely doesn't deserve you.

Who said that.

Sho immediately bans you from eating at his food truck.

If you're gonna play these dumb games, then he has his own cards to play, too.

Even if you have zero intention of making him jealous and genuinely just want to go on a cute date, he WILL see it as a challenge.

He would rather get hit by a car than see you taking some random ass dude to HIS food truck to eat HIS food during a date. You're supposed to eat his food only if you go on dates with HIM.

He's gonna make you choose between him and your stupid new guy as soon as you tell him about the confession.

Are you going to abandon him? Are you really going to choose some dude instead of a friend? Someone who needs your support and ideas? Someone who ACTUALLY cares about you and didn't just randomly appear out of nowhere?

There is a correct answer for his ultimatum, and you better choose wisely.

Kurosagi Leo

???????????

Some people do have awful taste, huh.

Cannot fathom why someone would ever fall for you.

You're plain and boring, just a stupid NPC. That person must be just as boring as you, if not worse.

He makes sure to tell you all of this so you know your place.

But then you decide to give that person a chance and begin to ignore his messages.

How fucking dare you answer him only in the end of the day. You're supposed to be at his beck and call. You're supposed to be by his side whenever he needs you, like a good NPC.

He gets antsy. He's bouncing his legs, biting his nails and feeling his stomach flip flop inside him.

Okay he GETS it. You can stop trying to make him jealous now, god. You're so fucking desperate for his attention, aren't you?

Just... answer his fucking texts for once, okay?

Otherwise, he's gonna have to handle that rando that's been glued to your side on his own terms, and you don't want that.

Don't make him do something both of you will regret <3

Sagara Haru

Of course someone would fall for you! Who wouldn't?

You're so sweet, strong, patient, helpful, comforting, and you always do your best to spend time with him so he feels less overworked and...

Oh.

If you have a s/o, this means you won't be able to help him and spend time by his side, huh...

...

That is a problem.

Haru needs your company. He needs to know your whereabouts and what you're doing. You won't leave him hanging behind on his own, right?

He knows that you care for the animals and you wouldn't abandon them, but what about him?

Will you really leave him behind?

Haru is busy with everything in Jabberwock, so it's not like he can neglect his job to follow you around, but... Maybe he can keep an eye on you through his little gps.

Whenever he sees you out and about, he'll shoot you the cutest, most heartwrenching message about how he the animals miss you.

It never fails.

After all, you're so sweet. He knows exactly how to tug on your heartstrings until you run back to him.

Otonashi Towa

No.

You're not going to date anyone.

Towa loves romance, yes, but only if it doesn't involve you with someone else.

You're his Dandelion! You're his. You're not going to leave him, ever. Why are you even thinking about someone else? You're so silly, Dandelion.

Towa doesn't try to be subtle. He will threaten the other person and kick them out of your life immediately.

If he needs to strike them down with a dozen lightnings, he will do it. Do not doubt him whatsoever.

Don't be sad, though. If you wanted to go on dates, you should have just said so!

He will take you to every pretty place he finds in Darkwick – cave systems, flower fields, dense woods, and anywhere else you feel like going!

As long as you go with him.

He's not letting anyone steal you from him, ever.

Shiranami Ren

Whines and whines and whines and whines.

He becomes actually insufferable.

"You're actually going to become one of those disgusting people that flaunt their relationship everywhere, aren't you?"

"Ren, I don't even know if I'll accept the date..."

You don't get it, though. He thought you were different. He thought you weren't like everyone else! But you got A CONFESSION?

EUGH

That's like the most normie thing in the whole world...

And who's gonna watch B-horror movies with him now? Who's gonna play his mobile games and do his dailies with him?

You're gonna be just like those assholes that forget their friends when they start dating, aren't you?

He knew you were just too good to be true. That's on him, though. He was stupid to believe you would stick around.

Wait, no, please don't go. Please don't get mad at him.

He just doesn't want you to spend your time with someone else... but also, he would rather die than straight up tell you that.

Maybe read between the lines of all his whiny ass messages and forget about that other guy, how about it? It's almost time for a raid anyway.

Hoshibami Taiga

Oh honey. I don't know why you think you can even leave Taiga's side for long enough to receive a whole confession.

Although, if someone is crazy enough to mess with TAIGA'S little kitten, they are very brave.

Taiga may let them shoot their shot just to amuse himself and see how the dumbass would try to woo you.

But if they got even a little bit closer, his gun would fire immediately.

It would either end in someone getting terribly traumatized and/or wounded, or in death.

Getting away is just not an option if you're Taiga's.

You're always in his reach. No reason to think about silly little scenarios like "receiving a confession".

Pffft. Don't be stupid.

Romeo Lucci

Are you fucking insane? Shut up and go fetch him a face mask.

Of course he's not letting you date anyone. You're his assistant. You dont have time for shit like that.

What do you mean you don't need permission? Oh that's RICH.

Romeo isn't very patient about this whole situation.

If you try to argue too much, he just pushes you into his secret room and then inside one of his cages until you understand your place.

He's never letting you just walk away and spend your precious time with some broke asshole. Your time is HIS. YOU are his. Don't get any funny ideas.

It doesn't matter if you get mad at him. He will keep you locked up until you're sweet and compliant again. Just the way you're supposed to be.

And if that doesn't work quickly enough, he can always order his men around and beat whoever tries to get too close to you.

No one fucking steals from Romeo. Much less what is the most valuable to him.

Shinjo Ritsu

?

Ritsu is incredibly confused once you bring up going on dates with someone who confessed to you.

Did you forget you are legally bound to him by the terms of your partnership?

You have no time to go on dates. During working hours you have to be fulfilling your part of the contract right beside him.

It's not his fault that there's so much work to do that you end up needing to work overtime...

Yes, he IS very against unpaid overtime, obviously.

But it's not like you're not getting anything from this! You'll have the best lawyer in Japan always ready to help you.

But you'll only have this rare privilege if you stop being foolish and forget about dating that silly student.

You have to focus. Focus on your partnership.

Focus on him.

Focus on Ritsu alone.

Kusanagi Haku

Oh, so you hesitate to accept his invitations, but you're quick to go on a date with some other random person?

Ouch. Yikes.

Immediately lets you know that the person a very nasty spirit posessing them.

But you'd be a bit silly if you believed what he says because Haku is going to blatantly lie.

If that's what it takes to keep you far from anyone trying to get their hands on you, you BET Haku will try to manipulate you.

"Exorcising them? Nah, can't do it. Too strong of a spirit, you know? Better just keep your distance ;)"

He's honestly shameless. Doesn't stop following you around for a second and always manages to barge into every conversation you have with a general student, even if it's not even the person who confessed to you.

Can't be too careful, you know? After all, you're so sweet, what if more people fall for you?

He hates competition, so it's best to just cull everyone that gets too close to you. Makes things a lot easier for him.

And you know, since you're so eager to go out on a date with someone, why don't you choose him for once?

It's not like he'll ever let you have another option besides himself after all.

Kagami Subaru

Oh, he's guilt tripping you right away. All those years of acting are SHOWING.

Have you watched a kabuki play? There are some SAD ones, you know.

And you best believe Subaru is going to look like you've just ripped his heart apart as soon as you tell him about the confession.

You're the only actual friend he has besides Lyca... Do you really want to leave him in the dust like that? All for some dates? He really thought he mattered more to you than that...

It doesn't matter how much you try to reassure him you won't abandon him, he'll only stop being gloomy once you tell him word for word that you are not going to date anyone else.

And as soon as you do that, it'll be like clouds letting the sun shine again. He'll smile and cling to you like a magnet, gently feeding you the softest daifuku.

All while subtly touching you and checking your memories for the face of whoever dared to confess to you.

His good relationship with Darkwick will definitely come in handy to keep them far away from you.

Kotodama Zenji

He is having such a hard time with this!

He is more than happy to know you're appreciated! You are such a wonderful person! His lovely little human!

However... he can't help but feel awful about it all too. What if you stop talking to him?

After all, besides you, only Haku and Subaru see him. He knows you wouldn't be able to talk to him if you had someone unrelated right next to you. Much less someone who isn't even a ghoul!

His late night visits become more frequent. He stands at the foot of your bed, looking at your sleeping figure, very conflicted.

Is he allowed to be a little selfish, even though he's a spirit?

Soon enough, you stop hearing from the person who confessed to you. It's not that big of a deal, but you ARE curious as to why they up and vanished.

You'll never know how they suddenly got prophetic nightmares about how they shouldn't date you, complete with some bloodied messages on their wall...

Mizuki Rui

He's absolutely distraught. Not only he cannot touch you, now he must be tortured by the sight of you touching someone else?

Even worse: someone else touching YOU?

His days just keep on getting worse.

Will you still please visit him at his bar then? You won't completely starve him of your company, right?

Maybe he should just touch this crush of yours.

Haha, just kidding! He wouldn't do that.

He will, however, hide in the darkness for as much as he needs until he's sure that he approves of that date of yours.

Spoiler: he will never approve of anyone that isn't him.

Rui will bombard you with messages until you understand that his jealousy will never subside unless you reject that person once and for all.

And maybe, for some peace, you should. Because Rui is nothing if not insistent.

From the corner of your eyes, you see the way he lurks in the shadows of every place you visit.

Give yourself a break and mend the shinigami's heart for once, please?

Edward Hart

Oh dear. Who's going to take care of him now 😔

You're heartless, you know. Wasting your finite human time with a pointless date, instead of helping an old man when he needs you... You wound him so...

Ed is the king of emotional blackmail. He will moan and groan on and on about how weak and alone he is (even though Rui does everything for him) and how cruel you are for not spending your days in his room, tending to all his whims.

It doesn't matter if Rui can help him with this malware-riddled website. He wants YOU to help him. His plain but pretty little thing.

Didn't you learn you must respect your elders, love?

Then go lay down on his bed with him, thread your fingers through his hair, and shush him when he's tired and in pain. You're his walking balm, dear.

Don't leave him hanging. That would be so rude of you.

Lyca Colt

No no no no no no no no

NO!!!!!!!!!

You're not gonna date anyone!! You're not going to hang out with anyone else, ever!!!

Lyca is another one that's not subtle.

He'll just cling to you 24/7 and growl at the person who confessed to you until they run away.

He'll NEVER let you spend a single minute longer with some boring human. You have to spend time with him and teach him more about... well, about everything! You're his caretaker, aren't you?

The fact that he used to protest every time someone called you his babysitter does not matter anymore!

He is going to stay by your side and chase everyone away. How dare they try to do those disgusting things with HIS human!

It's overwhelming how clingy and possessive he gets – even more than before.

Lyca won't let you breathe peacefully. He'll be clinging to your arm, your hand, your neck, your shoulders, anywhere he can grab just to show everyone that you belong WITH HIM ALONE.

It's best if you just accept it. They do say it's hard to teach older dogs how to behave, don't they...

Isami Yuri

He didn't expect much from you, but to waste your time with meaningless endeavors... Disappointing!

You better never sleep then! Because he's not letting you off the hook! You're still spending more than half of your day in Mortkranken, under HIS watchful eye!

And if he sees you texting some random guy, well. He'll just have to snatch your phone away from you.

How dare you think of anything else besides your apprenticeship under him?! Him, Isami Yuri, the best doctor in Darkwick. You're so ungrateful!

Yuri will wring you dry. He's so merciless, it'll be honestly best if you just focus on him...

He wants your full attention and focus. If you go on... *retches* dates... your mind won't be into your work.

Stop this insanity, worm, and pay attention to him. Pay attention and praise him. Don't go praising some random, worthless person. They don't deserve it.

But Yuri does. Yuri deserves your praise.

Praise him.

Please.

And forget all about anyone else.

Kirisaki Jiro

Hm... will going on dates affect your health positively? Your mental health, maybe? Huh.

Jiro doesn't really understand what he feels about you spending time with someone else.

What he does know is that he likes having you around, as much as he can process how "liking something" feels.

He likes how you take care of him after he showers and how you worry about him, no matter how many times he tells you it's pointless. He likes your reactions and how you try to be helpful. He likes you.

If you spending time with someone else means he won't have you doing all this anymore, or at least not as much as he'd like, he can't say he approves it.

Jiro straight up tells you he doesn't want you to go on dates and why.

It'd be wise to listen to him. Otherwise, he'll try to get his fix of you by following you around.

Not sure you'd want the tallest and strongest man in Darkwick following you around like a shadow... but you do you.

[templeofelysium]

worshipping the chthonic gods

first, a note on cthonic vs ouranic: the line between these gods is one that is not really as stark as it can be portrayed. many gods have both ouranic and chthonic aspects, and neither make them any more "good" or "bad" than the other. chthonic gods are not evil gods, at least no more than any ouranic god. all deities have the capability of doing good and evil, but are largely ambivalent in nature. the advice listed below is not set in stone, simply provided as gentle guidance. if you have suggestions, feel free to add them in the comments/reblogs! :)

LIBATIONS/OFFERINGS

In Ancient Greece it was very common for offerings to the chthonic gods to be given in the form of libation--a drink (or any liquid) poured into the ground. Solid offerings, like food, were often burned in their entirety to ash or left to rot, instead of being partially shared by the offeror. Incense was not as commonly used since the smoke travels upwards, towards the heavens.

I suggest disposing of/keeping ashes and rotted food outside or burying them, seeing as chthonic sometimes refers to "-of the earth." This would be similar to how curse tablets were treated in Ancient Greece, as Hermes, messenger of the gods, would deliver them unto their underworld-ly receiver from there.

If you can't do that, consider pouring your libations down the sink or flushing them down the toilet (ONLY do this with water-based liquids, oil and honey will clog up your sink in no time flat). It's not ideal, but it gets the job done.

Common libations include: coffee, blood (animal or your own, we'll get to that at the end), honey (instead of wine), milk

Common offerings include: meat, barley/grain, oil, cheese

PRAYER

In many cases, prayers to ouranic deities are directed upwards, into the sky or delivered unto the wind by voice, song, or some sort of poem. In the case of the chthonic gods, we should be directing them downwards, towards the underworld where they reside. This may include extending your hands with palms facing down, putting your head down, or just imagining your prayers being sent below. The only exceptions to this may be Persephone, who resides in the heavens for half of the year, and Hermes, who can be considered both ouranic and chthonic.

Other recommendations I can make are: light a candle, even if you're not going to use it for pyromancy; light some incense (I do this for focus and cleansing, not so much for the deity); and perform it at night. It's not mandatory, of course, to perform your prayers at night, it's just that in antiquity ouranic activities (festivals, prayer, etc.) were done during the day and often directly enshrouded in sunlight. We can assume, therefore, that a chthonic prayer or festival should occur during the night, especially if being directed towards Hekate or Nyx.

ALTARS/SHRINES

In Ancient Greece, temples to the ouranic gods were constructed so that their doorways would directly face the sun, thus illuminating the inside (and often the main statue(s), too). We can assume, then, that our chthonic altars/shrines should be located somewhere out of the direct sunlight. This can be in a dark spot, like a closet or isolated room--or it can just simply be in a corner furthest from the sun's rays.

Again, there may be some exceptions to this: Hermes, under his ouranic epithet(s), Persephone, for her time in the heavens, and Hekate, for her association with the moon.

DIVINATION

For the most part divination with the chthonic gods is conducted in much the same way as with the ouranic. Of course, when calling upon these deities you'll want to face towards the ground, and perhaps even conduct these sessions in partial darkness. Again, maybe you could light a candle or even pour a libation before a really big reading.

I mostly use pendulums and tarot, but I've been experimenting with meditation and have had some luck. What works for ouranic deities should work just as good for chthonic, you just might have to shift your approach a little.

Some good tarot spreads for working with chthonic deities:

"Fork in the Road" spread-- for Hermes or Hekate

"The Tower" spread-- for Hermes or Hades

"The Self Exploration" spread-- for any

"The Bat" spread-- for Hades or Persephone or Nyx

EXTRAS

--Consider offering blood if you're able! Animal blood that is sourced from ethical farms is neither morally reprehensible or illegal and can be sourced from a variety of places. Offering your own blood is also a possibility, but for this I would not recommend more than a pinprick. There are limits to how much pain you should be incurring on yourself for your deities. If you have to check your blood sugar often, maybe you can soak up excess blood with some cotton and bury it outside. Make sure to always clean your wounds properly and do not engage in this behavior for the purpose of self-mutilation. That, I can assure you, your deities would not appreciate. Don't be stupid.

--Snakes are commonly associated with almost all chthonic deities, or just the Underworld in general. We see this the most with Hermes, who is pictured with two snakes wrapped around his caduceus. The god Asclepius is also pictured with a staff with a single snake on it. Asclepius is the god of medicine, and (before being deified) was killed by Zeus for making people practically immortal.

--Chthonic deities are the best places to turn to for spirit work, protective, and baneful magic. You're looking to contact a spirit? Turn to Hades. You're looking for protection against spirits/demons? Turn to Hekate or Hermes. You're looking to cast a curse? Turn to Persephone or Hekate.

dividers by @vibeswithrenai

[tinalbion]

'𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐌𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥' ||

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Logan Howlett/ The Wolverine x fem!Reader

𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞! Minors, DO NOT interact! Smut with plot, fem!Reader, mutant!Reader, unprotected p in v, choking, biting, vaginal fingering, oral sex (female receiving), jealousy, canon typical language, no use of y/n,

𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡: 10k (got a LITTLE carried away, oops)

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: After a successful mission, you return to the mansion to an annoyed Wolverine, who isn't happy with the time you've been spending with Scott Summers. You offer to hang out with him since you two are incredibly close, and that leads to a game of pool, and your eyes begin to wander while you're both flirting like crazy. You're afraid to make the first move, so maybe Logan will do it for you.

© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐓𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐃𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫.

You had just gotten back from a mission that Professor Xavier had asked you to attend, and naturally, he had paired you up with someone who could challenge your growing capabilities, so he had you escort Scott Summers, who had a completely different skill set than you. He figured that if you could figure out how to work together, it would be useful to you in the future, and you thought he had a point when he put it in that context. The truth was, you and Scott didn't get along, more so you were over the top for his calm demeanor. You had a mouth on you, said what you thought, and your fighting was a bit too sloppy for his taste. He had constantly compared you to Logan Howlett, your ‘other half’, as he referred to him behind your backs. 

You and Logan had become thick as thieves after you’d initially joined the X-Men, many people speculated that you two were ‘an item’, but as much as you would have wanted that, there would be no way Logan would agree. You and Logan constantly bickered, joked around, and enjoyed each other's company to the point that it was hard for others to be around you when you were in a room together. Your personalities melded well enough that you worked well with one another. 

After the initial headache of having to deal with your loud comments of distaste for the company during this mission, Scott seemed to notice your distraction as you looked around and surveyed the area, and he felt that maybe he'd have some peace and quiet as you acquainted yourself with the area. You and Scott went head-on into the mission, learning to depend on one another, and you learned quite a bit now that your attention was solely focused on saving another like you; a mutant, a child. 

With Scott's help, you were able to easily maneuver through the others who were keeping the small girl hostage, using your powers to easily dispose of the threats with Scott alongside you, giving you tips and ideas to use as he fought alongside you. Just this once, you thought, he wasn’t all that bad. 

 Logan scowled as Scott patted you on your back once you entered the mansion, the man walked up behind you as he kept his shielded eyes glued to you. You helped save a mutant kid on a mission and Scott just couldn’t stop singing your praises since you arrived back, and Logan wasn’t too fond of the way Scott was lingering around you. In Logan’s mind, he should be the one singing your praises, not Scott. He should be the one doting on you and soaking up all of your time, only if he wasn't so stubborn and allowed himself to break that barrier down once in a while.

He waited until you had walked away from the small group that greeted you, all gathered to see how your mission had gone, and the little girl had followed Scott to go and meet the Professor, which left you smiling and talking to the group that soon began to disperse. 

“You ‘n Slim been getting real familiar lately,” Logan said, not even attempting to hide his bitterness as he walked up to you, having finished his own mission not even twenty minutes ago. 

You smiled over at Scott as he led the little girl away and nodded as he praised you once more, wanting to show genuine thanks, but as soon as you saw Logan, your smile grew wide. Without hesitation, you ran up to him to greet him and waved. "Hey, Logan!" His comment about Scott made you laugh. "Ah, well, Charles has been making him teach me some stuff out in the field.”

Logan’s sour mood was instantly lifted as you ran up to him. He smiled back at you, the annoyance he felt from earlier gone now that you were in front of him, looking adorable as usual. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, trying to remain stoic.

“What kinda stuff he been teaching ya?” he replied, raising a suspicious eyebrow.

You looked over at Logan and smiled warmly, always enjoying when he was near you. "Well, mostly combat, but I don't have his mutation so I have to do more up close combat than what he does.” You sighed with frustration at the entire situation, but you remained as positive as you could, thankful for the opportunities.

Logan nodded his head as he listened intently, but he couldn’t deny that that answer displeased him a little; the thought of Cyclops showing you how to fight hand-to-hand combat made his blood boil, and he hated to think about him so close to you like that. He’d seen the way Scott looked at you, he knew his thoughts, or what any guy would do to be near a woman in such a situation. Wasn't having Jean enough to satisfy him?

“Yeah? He show ya all the right moves yet, darlin’?” He asked, trying to remain casual.

"Well, no," you confessed and leaned in closer. "He's kinda bad at it," you said in a dramatic whisper, rolling your eyes for even more dramatic effect. 

Logan let out a sharp bark of laughter. That was the answer he wanted to hear. He was always looking for a reason to tear into Scott. "Yeah? Well, maybe you oughtta be spendin’ a little more time trainin’ with ol’ Wolvie here. He’ll show ya some much better moves than Cyclops ever could," he replied, leaning in closer to keep his voice down.

"Well that's the funny thing, I did request you on field missions and the Professor said no, that I needed to focus…”

Logan’s smile immediately dropped. He frowned deeply at the mention of Charles. Of course, the Professor would say something like that… "Yeah? What’d he say, exactly?" He asked, his tone growing serious as his irritation returned thinking of you with Scott.

"Well, he said I'd only be paying attention to you, and not actually working, goofing off." You huffed and crossed your arms. "He says we mess around too much, don't take anything seriously when we're together.”

Logan felt his face heat up at your words. Well, at least it wasn’t because you were paying too much attention to Scott. He huffed in slight annoyance. “So, what? He sayin’ you’d be too distracted around me to focus on a mission or somethin’? Pfft. Sounds like a load a’ bullshit to me.” He looked away, avoiding your gaze as he crossed his arm over his chest, mimicking you.

"Yeah, that's what I'm saying! You're better at hand-to-hand and I wanted you to teach me," you huffed in irritation. “I take missions seriously, the Professor should know that.”

Logan’s frown morphed into a grin upon hearing that. It felt good to hear you say that and he had the perfect response for your anger. “Well, I’m sure the Professor won’t mind if we sparred sometimes, huh?” He said, his grin growing wider. “We could prove it to him when we kick some ass together.”

"Well, no, I don't think he'd mind that. We could do that in the danger room whenever you'd want. I bet you could teach me to throw a real punch," you said with a smirk.  "Still can't believe the Professor said no though…" 

“Yeah? You wanna learn how to throw a real punch, huh?” He chuckled to himself. He loved it when you got like this: feisty and ready for a fight. The thought of you taking swings at him? That was… exciting.

“Y’know, I bet I could teach ya a bunch of stuff he don’t want ya to know. Maybe he’s scared of how good of a fighter I’ll make you,” he teased, leaning in closer to you.

You couldn't help but giggle as you looked over at Logan. "Mhm maybe, but he also said–" You puffed up your chest, trying to imitate the Professor as best as you could. "You should never just hone your gifts, but learn to work well with others' gifts, then you won't have a weakness when you have each other." 

Logan couldn’t help but burst with laughter at hearing your impression of Charles. “Eh that’s a buncha bullshit,” he barked, rolling his eyes. He always preferred to work alone. The thought of relying on your own strength, your own fighting ability, seemed more practical to him. “So, what, he expects you to get all buddy-buddy with Slim?” He asked, a hint of jealousy lingering in his voice.

You sighed and shrugged your shoulders, not aware of the underlying irritation Logan felt. "Apparently. He said our mutations are opposite and his is far-ranged while mine is more close-ranged. I need to learn to compliment others in battle if we want to thrive." 

You groaned again, just wanting to hang out with your friend, Logan. The friend you had intense feelings for. Maybe Charles knew about that and intended to keep you distant so you wouldn't do anything stupid. 

Logan couldn’t help the eye roll at that comment. Opposites, huh? That seemed to bother him even more. He just KNEW Scott wanted to get his hands on you.

“Yeah? Well, he sure don’t mind gettin’ his hands on you, huh?” He grumbled, under his breath. He was really trying to hold back his jealousy, but the thought of you learning how to fight with Cyclops… just didn’t seem fair.

You took his comment as a little odd, but maybe he was just looking out for you. "Well, I think he was just being nice, I wouldn't take it that far, Logan," you scoffed, looking away from him with a smirk. “Besides, he's got Jean,” you said as if her name left a sour taste in your mouth. 

Logan’s frown deepened, his jealousy rising with every word you spoke, not to mention the slightly uncomfortable feeling that stung him when you mentioned Jean. He grumbled, his irritation growing rapidly as you dismissed his worries.

“Oh yeah?” He said through clenched teeth. “How is it that you don’t see the way he looks at you? He’s always got his eye on you. ‘Nice’, my ass.”

"I never see it because I don't look at him," you pointed out to him. “And again, he's got Jean.”

Logan’s jaw tightened as you responded, his hands clenching into tight fists. He knew you were oblivious to the way Scott was acting around you, even if it seemed so obvious to him, even if he had Jean. What was stopping him from acting that way with you when he once acted that way with Jean?

“Yeah, and you’re also not seein’ that it ain’t just him,” he retorted, leaning back against the sofa. “He ain’t the only one who’s got his eye on you.”

This took you slightly off guard, but you just chalked it up to Logan really disliking Scott. "What you seem to not understand is I'm not looking at Scott because I'm looking at you," you confessed with a softened gaze. 

Logan froze as the words came out of your mouth. His face heated up, his irritation and jealousy replaced with surprise and a hint of hope. He wasn’t sure if he heard you right. Did you really just say you were looking at… him?  He was stunned. He didn’t know what to say, so you had rendered him speechless for once.

You scoffed at his reaction and waved your hand in front of his face. "Earth to Howlett," you giggled. "What, honey badger got your tongue?”

Logan snapped out of his daze, his cheeks turning a soft shade of red. He grumbled under his breath, the tips of his ears burning with embarrassment. “Oh, shut up,” he muttered, ducking his head to avoid your gaze. His heart was practically leaping out of his chest and you were just laughing at him.

"Mhm you're cute when you get flustered," you said softly leaning closer to him, resting your shoulder against his as you nudged him gently. 

Logan was sure his cheeks were a full-blown shade of red at this point. He was not used to being called “cute”, and he definitely wasn’t used to people getting so close to him, let alone someone he secretly adored. 

He cleared his throat and tried to maintain a casual demeanor, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned against the wall. “Yeah? You, uh… think I’m cute?” He questioned, his voice wavering a bit.

"Oh absolutely, and ruggedly handsome, and stunning… I could go on." You said, listing them off as you tapped your fingers, that large shit-eating grin on your face, knowing very well it got under his skin. 

Now that did it. Logan’s face was on fire. Never, in his entire life, had someone ever lay on the compliments so thick, certainly not one as sweet and gorgeous as you. He swallowed hard and tried to play it off as his usual careless demeanor. He was used to messing around with you, so why was it really getting to him today? “Aw, shut up,” he grumbled, shifting awkwardly against the wall.

You couldn't help but laugh at his cool demeanor, so you shrugged as you pushed yourself away from the wall, smiling wide as you looked back at him. "Oops, sorry," you said playfully. "I'll meet you back in the living area. I gotta go and check in with the Professor." 

Logan didn’t want you to leave just yet, not when you were making his heart race like that. He let out a sigh and nodded his head, trying to act as stoic as possible. “Yeah, alright. You go on ‘n do that,” he mumbled.

"I'll see you in like, ten minutes then! Maybe we could have a beer," you offered and waved sweetly at him as you turned around to start to walk off, smiling wide. 

Truthfully, you loved being around Logan, but you had no idea if you could ever admit that to anyone, they wouldn't understand the charm he had that you adored so much. With how quickly you two got on, it was a wonder that you were able to keep your thoughts as pure as they had been for so long, but lately, something about Logan getting all hot and bothered by you hanging around Scott made you realize just how much Logan truly meant to you.

Logan watched you walk away, his eyes lingering a moment too long on your figure. He mentally scolded himself for being so damn affected by you. It was so uncharacteristic of him, and yet, he couldn’t help himself. He was downright swooning. When you offered to have a beer with him, he leaped at the opportunity, it was the perfect moment to spend some time together. Away from Scott and the others, the way Logan preferred it. 

“Yeah,” he replied, managing a smirk. “Sounds good, darlin’.”

So you went to talk to the professor and debrief him on the job you and Scott had done, and you did voice your ideas about working with others on the team to ‘spice things up’, as you worded it, and the Professor knew what you were getting at. He stopped you mid-sentence and looked at you with a soft stare. 

"I know you want to work with Logan,” he began. “When you're ready, you'll be able to handle it," the professor explained. “I know it may seem frustrating, but Logan does have his disadvantages when it comes to missions, he's still getting used to working as a team, and sometimes he makes a decision that isn't the best for everyone involved.” 

You grumbled in annoyance but nodded to the professor, so you thanked him and made your way to the living area to meet back with Logan. 

Logan was already sitting on the couch in the living quarters, leaning back with a beer in hand, when you finally walked in. His heart immediately thumped as he laid eyes on you, and he felt his cheeks heat up. He mentally cursed himself again, he needed to keep it together. He didn’t want you to think you had this much of an effect on him, but he'd be lying if he said you didn't. 

Logan patted the cushion next to him and gestured for you to join him. “C’mere, darlin’,” he said, his voice rough.

With a smile, you followed his instructions and plopped right down next to him, grabbing a beer from the table. "Ugh, the professor denied my request again," you complained to him. 

Logan grunted in irritation as you sat down beside him, so he took a sip of his beer, his other hand tapping on the bottle. “He did, huh? I’m not surprised.” He rolled his eyes, taking another swig. “What’d he say this time?”

“He said you don't ‘play nice’ working in team environments, so until there's a chance that people get hurt when you make a wrong decision, it's dangerous. But you're not like that!” You huffed, popping the bottle open and sipping it fast. "I don't get it, I feel like I'm ready and you wouldn't do anything stupid to get someone hurt, I don't understand.”

Logan sighed and shook his head in agreement. He was frustrated, too. He didn’t understand why the Professor was so adamant on denying your request. He leaned back on the couch and ran a hand through his hair. “I feel the same. You definitely got potential if things go south, you’re a quick learner. Way quicker than the others, that’s for damn sure.” He stole a glance at you, watching you from the corner of his eye, all he wanted was to spend more time with you. “And as for me, we'll, he ain't wrong, exactly… teamwork ain't my strong suit.” 

“Well, still, you wouldn't get anyone hurt on purpose, I know you well enough to vouch for you there.” You grumbled again and took a long sip of your beer, hating the taste of it, but you stuck it out. When you looked back over at Logan, you offered a small smile. "How was your mission, at least?”

Logan chuckled and shook his head. You were feisty, he liked that about you. It was endearing to see how determined you were to get what you wanted. He shrugged his shoulders in response to your question. 

“Fine, I suppose. We weren’t there for long, took out the bots, and got out. Nothin’ too major. Nothin’ I needed Cyclops to help me with,” he replied with a scoff. He took another drink of his beer and glanced over at you. “How ‘bout you? Missions have seemed to be goin’ smoothly for you recently, huh?”

You couldn't help but scoff at his comment and looked over at the window, sighing. "Yeah, so far, it's been fun being out in the field, though, I like being more hands-on." 

Yeah, that was one thing he adored about you. Your need for combat and to prove yourself as a capable fighter, it wasn’t for everyone, but you were determined to get your hands dirty. Logan couldn’t help the smirk spreading across his face. “Damn right, that's where all the fun is, out in the field. And you’ll get your chance, just gotta wait until the Professor pulls his head out of his ass and lets you,” he snickered.

You giggled at his comment and shook your head. "Yeah, we'll see, but I do hope we can work together one day, oh I bet going on a mission with you would be so fun!”

The fact you wanted to work with him on a mission was intriguing, to say the very least, but he almost felt a sense of pride seeing you want to work with him. “You’re full of surprises, ain’t ya, kid?” He asked with a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Just call me a fun house I guess," You joked. "So, how does Wolverine spend his downtime after missions?" You asked. 

Logan scratched the stubble on his chin and chuckled. “Well, I usually like to keep it low-key. Some drinks, maybe head to the bar or a game of pool. Nothin’ too crazy.” He eyed you with a sly smirk.

"Oh, you play pool?" You asked with a glint of excitement in your eyes. 

Logan chuckled and nodded, taking note of the sudden excitement in your eyes. “Yeah, I’m damn good at it, too,” he boasted, a cocky grin spreading across his face. He leaned in a little closer to you. “You play?”

"I play for fun, so I'm not great. I'd be down to get some pointers from you if you're not busy," you offered with a smile. 

Logan could barely contain his excitement. You wanted him to teach you how to play pool? He’d be spending even more time with you, and it would give him the perfect opportunity to have you all to himself.

“Of course, I’ve got time, darlin’, I’ll give you all the pointers you need. I’ll make a pool shark outta you in no time,” he said, his voice low and suggestive.

You adored his charm, truly, you couldn’t help but giggle and nudge him with your arm. "Oh, Logan, you're something else," you laughed and patted his knee as you stood up in one swift motion. "C'mon! Wanna do it now?”

Logan chuckled at your comment and felt his heart leap as you patted his knee. He absolutely loved when you touched him. He stood up and smirked at you, his eyes filled with a wicked gleam. “Hell yes, let’s go. I can’t wait to show you all my techniques,” he said, his voice thick with innuendo.

"Hell YES, let's go! I got the beers," You said with excitement and yanked the six-pack from the table. You didn't take offense or think it weird when Logan flirted, he was usually like that with you, but every time he'd done so, it made you feel warm and fuzzy.

Logan couldn’t help but chuckle at your enthusiasm. Your excitement was contagious, and it only fueled his own desire to spend time with you even more. He gestured for you to lead the way, his eyes scanning your figure. “Lead the way, doll. I’m right behind ya,” he said with a smirk, following behind you with a cocky gait.

You couldn't hide the wide smile as you walked along with the beer in tow, weaving through the halls towards the rec room. You'd look back to make sure Logan was still following, feeling excitement take over your entire body, also feeling the fluttery feeling in your stomach. 

Logan followed you through the halls, his heart racing with every step, and he watched as you looked back at him, your smile making his stomach flutter. He kept his gaze fixated on you, his eyes tracing the curve of your hips as you walked ahead of him. He found himself wondering what it would be like to push you up against a wall and kiss you senseless… ‘What the hell is wrong with you? She won't see you that way, you're never gonna have a shot’. He quickly shook the thought from his head, reminding himself to keep it together.

You had found the room and pushed the doors open, turning on the lights as you waited for Logan. You let out a satisfied hum when you spotted the pool table and walked up to it, placing the beers off to the side as you started shifting through the pool cues. 

Logan followed you into the rec room, his eyes scanning over the pool table with a cocky grin. He sauntered over to you, his gaze fixated on your movements as you rummaged around the table for pool cues. He came up behind you, his body mere inches from yours, his breath hot against your neck as he spoke. “I hope you’re ready to get schooled, doll,” he teased, his voice low and hoarse.

As you found the pool chalk after you found a cue stick that worked to your liking, you then turned to Logan, shooting him a raised eyebrow. You weren't surprised by his cockiness but also felt rather playful, so you figured you'd play back. 

"You're not supposed to school me yet, Howlett, you gotta teach me!" You huffed, shooting him a faux frown.

Logan chuckled, his eyes roaming over your playful expression. He loved it when you got feisty with him. It only made him want you even more. He smirked, folding his arms across his chest. “Oh, trust me, doll, I plan to teach you. But first, I gotta show you some of my moves. Consider it a demonstration of just how good I really am.” He moved closer, his body practically pressed against yours as he reached around you to grab his cue stick.

When he did things like this, you couldn't help but blush a little, but when he reached over you to grab his pool cue, his body was so close to yours and you couldn't find the sass to give him right then, he was so close. He did this to get you flustered, but he wasn’t actually flirting with you to see where it led, was he?

Logan smirked as he noticed the blush growing on your face. He loved seeing how flustered he made you, how simple close proximity had you acting so shy. He couldn’t help but lean in even closer, his body pressing against yours. He looked down at you, his eyes dark with desire. “You alright, doll? Suddenly losing your spunk?” he teased.

"Well you're the one distracting me on purpose, Wolvie," you huffed and slipped away from him, smiling wickedly as you walked around the table with your cue. 

Logan chuckled, his smirk growing wider as you slipped away from him. You were always so determined and feisty. He watched as you walked around the table. “Mmm, maybe I am. But I’m just teachin’ you how to focus under distractions.”He casually leaned against the side of the pool table, his gaze never leaving you.

"Oh is that it?" You laughed and watched him as he got ready to strike the formation. "Very good first lesson, truly.” 

Logan chuckled, his eyes locked onto yours. He loved your sassy comebacks. It only fueled his desire to prove himself to you. He smirked, his hand poised to strike. “Oh, doll, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet. I’m just gettin’ started. Let’s see how well you deal under more distractions.” He leaned closer to you, his voice dipped low. “Because there’s a lot more where that came from.”

"Mhm, I already know that, but I think you're the one who's gonna have to pay attention to the table, bub," you teased as you watched from the side of the table. 

Logan chuckled, his ego a little bruised by your comment. He had to admit, he loved your boldness, you weren’t intimidated by him in the slightest. In fact, it seemed like you loved challenging him, which only made him want to try even harder to get under your skin. 

He smirked, his eyes darkened with a hint of arrogance. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, doll. I can focus just fine, even with a distraction as beautiful as you.”

You chuckled awkwardly, looking away as you reveled in the compliments he showered you with. You knew Logan flirted a lot, you loved it when he did, and you just figured he only flirted to tease you. He didn't know you had developed feelings for him, but you flirted in return, it was a fun back-and-forth you both seemed to enjoy.

"Pfft okay, bub, prove it. Get a ball in a pocket.”

Logan's heart thudded in his chest as he watched you react to his compliment. He loved seeing the way your cheeks flushed just slightly, how your eyes darted away for a moment before meeting his gaze again. He knew you were used to his flirting, but every time he did it, he hoped that maybe, just maybe, you'd begin to see how serious he really was behind it all.

The sight of you leaning against your cue, your eyebrows raised in challenge, sent a wave of desire through his body. You were so damn feisty, so damn beautiful. He had a hard time being as cool as he was when you were around, you just knew how to push all the right buttons. He chuckled and focused his gaze back on the table, took a step forward, his body moving gracefully as he lined up his shot.

You watched his body language as he leaned across the table the way he took aim with his cue, you made sure to watch, take note, see how he made it work. What you didn't expect was to really, really enjoy the sight of him over the pool table. 

Logan could feel your eyes on him as he leaned over the pool table, and could sense your gaze tracing every movement of his body. He felt a thrill run through him, loving the attention you were giving him. He took a deep breath, trying to focus on the task at hand, but he couldn’t ignore the way your eyes were burning into him. The way you were watching him so intently. It made it extremely hard to concentrate. He steadied himself, lining up the shot, but he couldn’t help but smirk at your obvious admiration.

You watched as he hesitated, and you couldn't hide the wide smile on your face. "What's wrong, Howlett? Distracted?" You teased as you leaned over to look at him with a wide smile. 

Logan couldn't help but chuckle as you leaned forward to tease him. Your proximity was driving him wild. He could practically feel your breath on his face. He looked down at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Distracted? Me? Never. Just makin' sure you're  enjoyin’ the view, doll.”

"Mhm, sure, sure," you laughed, loving his banter. "Take the shot before I push you out of the way and go," you warned playfully.

Logan chuckled, his heart racing as you taunted him. You were really testing his limits, but he loved every second of it. 

He shook his head, his smirk widening. “Oh no ya don’t. You ain’t touchin’ this table till I’m done with it.” He steadied himself again, determined to prove himself. He aimed and took the shot, sinking the ball into the corner pocket with ease.

Your eyebrows raised as you watched him sink a ball into the pocket, you then hummed with a satisfied tone. "Wow, that's impressive, Logan, so, any tips I should know?" 

Logan couldn't help but feel a sense of pride as you praised his shot. Your words fueled his ego, and he loved showing off for you. He leaned on his cue, a smug smile on his face. “Mmm, tips? Sure, lemme see.” 

He walked over to you, his body close enough to yours that you could feel the heat radiating off of him. He placed a hand on your hip, positioning you in front of him.

Your face blushed immediately,  you bit your lip as he positioned you at the table, and you tried to focus on the table, but his body radiated so much warmth, and he was so close, that you had a tough time concentrating. 

"O-Okay, so like this?" 

Logan noticed the flush of color on your cheeks as he moved you into position, and he couldn't help but wear a cocky smile. He loved the way you reacted to his touch, so visibly flustered by his mere presence. He leaned in closer so his chest brushed against your back. “Yeah, doll, that's good. Keep your eye on the target.” His hand remained on your hip, his touch light yet firm as he guided you.

"Okay, so you sank a solid color, I got striped, sooooo," you drew out, "I'll try for the blue," you said and aimed your cue. You tried not to focus too much on Logan's hand on your hip, wondering just how good his hand would feel somewhere else.

Logan watched intently as you lined up your cue, trying to keep his thoughts from straying to other places. He could feel the heat radiating off your body, the way your breath hitched as he pressed closer to you. 

He leaned in, his chin hovering above your shoulder as he spoke, his voice low. “Yeah, try for the blue, doll. Keep it simple for now.” He tried to ignore the way your body felt against his, how badly he wanted to take you right on the pool table.

You nodded and took a deep breath in, then released the breath as soon as the cue hit the white ball, it glided across the table and into a fray of balls, hitting the blue-striped one against the side of the table, and sure enough, it fell into the corner pocket. 

"YES!” You shouted as you raised a fist into the air. 

Logan chuckled, a smile spreading across his face as he watched the blue ball fall into the corner pocket. He couldn't help but feel proud of you, watching your excitement as you celebrated your accomplishment.

He leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above the shell of your ear. “Mmm, good job, doll. That was a solid shot.” His hand on your hip tightened, pulling you closer to him, his chest pressed against your back.

"Wolvie, you can... let me go if you want... or not... your choice," you hummed softly, your face turning slightly to look at him over your shoulder. You felt so flustered, he’d never been this bold before, being so close to you like this, his hands pressed against you in such a way…

Logan's heart thumped in his chest as he heard your soft voice, his body practically humming with want. His hand on your hip tightened, pulling you closer against him. He let out a soft chuckle, his breath hot against your ear. “Do you want me to let go?” His voice was low, dripping with desire. He knew he was walking a fine line, but he couldn't bring himself to pull back.

"I... not really," you confessed softly.

Logan’s breath hitched in his chest as he heard your confession, your voice barely above a whisper. It was all he needed to hear, and all he could do was let out a low groan, his hand on your hip pulling you closer. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”

"I haven't done anything," you said with a small chuckle. "How do I drive you crazy?” you asked, knowing very well what you did, and how you would flirt relentlessly with him, wanting to get a reaction. 

Logan chuckled at your response, his hand tracing lazy circles on your hip. “Oh, doll, believe me, you don’t have to do anything. Just your presence, your scent, the sound of your voice…” He leaned in, his lips hovering just above the skin of your neck, his voice dark and rough. “It’s all enough to drive a man mad.”

"If I knew any better, Wolvie, I'd say you have a thing for me..." You said with a gentle tone, your face close to his as you stared over at him, your expression filled with hesitance and desire. 

Logan let out a soft laugh, his hand on your hip gripping you tighter. “And what if I do? What if I’ve been wanting you, desiring you, practically since we met?” His gaze darkened, his eyes locked onto yours. There was no denying the desire he felt for you, he had been fighting it for ages now. But having you this close, hearing your words, it made it damn near impossible to resist.

"Then I'd say you're a fool for not letting me know sooner," you huffed, almost glaring at him. "Here I thought I was dumb to flirt with you, and you never made a move, so I thought you weren't interested.”

Logan shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. “Oh, I have been interested, more than interested. I just didn’t think you’d be interested in a damaged, pissed-off man like me. But trust me, I haven’t been able to get you outta my head since I laid eyes on you.”

"Hey, you're not all of that," you replied sternly. "You're more than that, Logan. Why’d you think that's all there is to you?”

Logan looked down at you, his expression a mix of vulnerability and hesitation. He knew you saw more in him than just his flaws and baggage, but it was hard for him to see past it all himself. 

“I’ve done a lot of bad things, things I’m not proud of. I just thought someone like you wouldn’t be interested in someone like me. I thought it was better to just admire you from afar than risk ruining something by being my usual, broken self.”

"You aren't ruining a damn thing, Logan, come on," you said and fully turned to face him, looking into his deep eyes. "Why do you think I always wanna be near you? Play pool, and drink beer, I like you, Logan. You're a damn angry man, but I like it, there's more under all that.”

Logan's heart thudded in his chest as you faced him, your words piercing straight to his soul. He couldn’t believe that you truly wanted him, despite all the bad he thought he was. His hand on your hip moved up to cup your face, his thumb tracing the outline of your lips. 

“Damn it,  you really think there’s more to me, don’t you?”

"Hell yeah I do," you chuckled with a large smile, closing your eyes once his hand cupped your cheek. "You think I'd prefer to be around you if I didn't? Everyone told me how much of a hot head you were, but I don't care what others say, I found out for myself that there's more to you than that. I’m never wrong.”

He couldn’t resist your sweet temptations any longer, he couldn’t stop himself even if he wanted to, not with you being so close to him, scrambling his senses. He pulled your face close to his and captured your lips in a desperate kiss, one that conveyed the desire he had for you, wanting to taste you. 

You accepted your fate and gasped against his lips, melted against his touch, incredibly happy that this was finally happening. Your hand was placed against his cheek and you kissed him back, the passion and intensity sparking between you both. 

The feel of your lips against his was everything he had dreamed of. He let out a low moan as he deepened the kiss, his tongue darting out to taste you, his hand on your hip pulling you impossibly closer to his body. He broke the kiss only long enough to gasp out, "You have no idea how long I've wanted this. Wanted you.”

You couldn’t hide the moan against his mouth once his tongue glided across your lips, igniting a fire in the pit of your stomach. When he pulled away, he left you breathless and smiling like an idiot.  "I... me too, Logan," you whispered. 

Seeing you breathless and smiling up at him, it filled Logan with a primal sense of satisfaction. Knowing that he was the one making you feel this way felt so damn good. He pressed his forehead against yours, his breath coming in ragged bursts. "You don't know how many times I've fantasized about this, doll. To have you this close to me, in my arms. It feels like a damn dream.”

"Mhm yeah? You fantasized about me?" you asked curiously, a flirtatious tone in your voice. You wrapped your arms around his neck and held onto him, smiling up at him sweetly. 

The sound of your flirtatious tone sent a shiver down Logan's spine. He could feel his body responding to your touch, to the way you were looking up at him. He let out a deep chuckle, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you flush against him. "Oh, you have no idea. I've fantasized about you in ways you can't even imagine." He leaned in, his lips brushing against the skin of your neck. "And I plan on making every one of them come true.”

You looked at him in surprise, your eyes wide and your cheeks beet red. "O-Oh, really? Logan, I had no idea you were such a dirty dog," you teased, trying to lighten the mood. You got nervous whenever someone spoke in such a flirtatious way, but NO ONE had ever spoken to you like Logan had. 

Logan chuckled at your surprise, loving the way your cheeks flushed at his words. He loved the way he could make you blush, and how easily he could get a reaction out of you. “Oh, I’m a damn dirty dog, alright,” he whispered against your neck, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin. He pulled you even closer, his body flush against yours. “And I plan on proving it to you damn soon, if you’re up for it, that is.”

Here you were, pressed against the pool table and Logan’s broad frame, staring into his eyes, not believing a word coming from his mouth was real. You had to have been dreaming… He was asking for your permission to prove himself, your thighs pressed together as if you could hide the desire growing between them. 

He took a slight step back to give you some space, a feral look in his eyes as he reached out and grabbed your wrist, holding you in place. "No," he said, his voice dripping with need. "Don’t hide that from me, I can…smell just how wet you are, princess. Your room, now.”

You made the snap decision right then and there, your entire resolve snapping, being taken over. “Yes, sir…” you replied and grabbed his hand, pulling him quickly to your room. 

When you both reached your room, Logan pushed the door closed behind him as he pulled you back into his grasp, pushing you against the door while almost lifting you from the floor. His lips devoured you, biting and licking at your lips, trailing down to your jaw. All you could do was be at his mercy, he was so strong, and you could feel that primal urge taking over. He couldn’t think straight. The sight of you, your flirting all day, your smell, everything about you set him off and pushed him to the edge. His hands moved up your body, gripped your shirt, and roughly yanked it off of you. He was like a different person now that it was just you two, and you allowed yourself to be the receiving end of his demands because all you wanted right now was him.

His hands slid across your skin as he kept you pushed against the wall, one hand slowly reached down to grab your leg and lift it to his waist. He couldn’t stop himself from pushing his hips against yours, prodding you with the obvious erection in his jeans. Logan couldn’t stop himself from sliding down to grip your ass, pulling you against him as he rubbed against your clothed sex, releasing a guttural sound from his lips.

All while you were helpless beneath him, feeling how this incredibly strong man could hoist you up, move you, pin you as if you weighed nothing. You were at his mercy and you were loving every moment of it. “Logan, please, need you, no teasing,” you whined, feeling his mouth trail down to your neck, kissing and biting you there, slowly making his way back up to your jaw.

“Yeah? You don’t want me to take my time with you?” He laughed, nuzzling your throat with his nose before he brought down his mouth to you again. 

You gasped and moaned his name over and over, trying to get him to stop being such a tease, but he wasn’t letting up, not until he wanted to. Logan hummed against your throat, tasting your skin, smelling your scent all over him, the feeling vibrated against your throat which only sent a jolt of need through you. 

He adjusted and held you up with one arm, cradling you against him and the wall as he slipped his other hand between you both, feeling just how soaked you were through your shorts. “Damn, princess, my nose never lies, you are soaked.” He laughed at the amount that was already on his fingers, so he decided it was high time to feel you. He moved through the shorts and pushed aside the underwear, plunging two fingers deep within you, curling into your cunt. 

Your body tensed as your nails dug deep into his shoulder, finally feeling a sliver of what he could offer to you, and you were already at his mercy. “Holy shit, Logan,” you whined, your voice cracking as your hips instinctively rolled against his hand. 

“Mhm, that’s right, darlin’, ride my fingers and show me how much you want it,” he said gruffly beside your ear, smiling that cocky-ass smile. He managed to press his thumb against your clit and rub, causing your body to jerk beneath him, and it only fueled him to continue. 

You did as he asked, riding his fingers as best as you could from this angle as he assisted you, pumping them in and out, curling deep to reach the spot you desired. Logan watched your face contorted with pleasure, your juices coating his hand as you needily moved against him. He watched with intensity, feeling his own excitement staining the front of his jeans as he added a third finger into the mix, stretching you out.

“Oh, fuck, Logan, feels so good…” You moaned out, and your head fell forward, resting on his shoulder as he continued to hold you in place. Your body felt heavy as he held you there, but you wanted to feel him properly, you needed him. “Logan, bed, please...”

Logan growled as you begged, he loved hearing your voice, but saying his name like this was too much to handle right now. He slid his fingers out of you, your body reacted as expected and you cried out, wanting the emptiness to be filled again, but you had no time to argue. His hands picked you up with ease and walked you to your bed, then he set you down as your body bounced from the drop, his eyes drinking you in while his hands worked quickly at your shorts. 

As he leaned over your body, he couldn’t help but place such gentle kisses down your body, his hands immediately discarding your shirt from over your head as he kissed you over and over again, but you eagerly helped yourself out of the bra you had on. His tongue was tracing the dips and curves of your skin as he kissed lower, then he reached your breasts and began to suck on one of your nipples, his hands kneading into your soft flesh as his teeth and tongue gently played with your sensitive bud.

When you responded so well to his touch, he couldn’t hide the growl that pulsated against your skin, pleased with your responses beneath him. After paying some attention to your other breast, Logan began to trail more kisses down your body, his lips coasting against the dips toward your belly and then stopped just above your center. Your breathing picked up, your chest rising and falling faster as you watched him with wide eyes. He slowly swiped his tongue through your wet folds and then teased you a little with his tongue against your clit. 

He pulled back a little to stare up at you, smiling. “You taste so fucking good,” he murmured against you, his voice hoarse with desire.

Your body responded so well to his tongue between your legs that you had to stop yourself from squeezing your thighs against his head, but his large hands were spreading them in an instant, keeping you still. “Fuck, Logan, that feels so good-” You gasped as he sucked a little stronger than you expected, and the moan that came from your lips sounded so divine.

Logan continued to eat you out, his tongue pressing into you with relentless enthusiasm. He curled his long tongue within you, two of his fingers dipping inside to add to the pleasure.

“Keep doing that and I’m not lasting long,” you warned, your tone sounding whiney and pitiful.

He stopped eating you out for a moment and stood up, his eyes burning with desire as he quickly did away with his jeans. You could see the obvious tent forming in front, his hard on straining against the fabric before he slid them down quickly. “Fuck, I need to be inside you now,” he growled, allowing his hard cock to pop out from his boxers.

As you looked down to see his length finally free from its restrictive confines, your eyes were glued to it, and your mouth watered. You wanted to have him in your mouth more than you cared to admit. “Logan, please, I need you inside of me…” you said, almost in a whisper. 

He crawled back onto the bed, his eyes locked with yours as he positioned himself between your legs. Logan slowly entered you, inch by inch, giving you time to adjust to his size. 

“You're so fucking tight,” he groaned, then started to move his hips in slow, deep thrusts.

"Damn, you're so thick," you groaned, feeling the intense pleasure roll over you as you smiled and leaned your head back. "Oh fuck, Logan.”

He smirked at your praise, his throbbing cock filling you completely with each thrust. He reached out and grabbed your hips, pulling you into him even deeper. “You like that, don't you? You fucking love it.” He started thrusting harder, his eyes never leaving yours as he watched your face as you took him. 

"Ahhh –fuck, yes I do!" You whined, clenching your teeth together as you melted into his touch, your moans were too loud now, there was no way you could control yourself anymore. "Feels so good.”

He growled, something he did fairly often around you, his hips slammed into yours now. “You want more? You want me to make you scream my name? Fine.” His thrusts became wilder, more erratic as his fingers dug into your skin and he took you roughly, mercilessly. “Say it, baby girl.”

"Yes! Logan, oh my god, Logan!" You cried out, moaning with each hard thrust he pushed against your hips, your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him in deeper.

His grunts of pleasure echoed in the room as he fucked you harder, his cock reaching deeper into your core. Hearing his name on your lips only made him want to lose himself within you. He groaned louder, feeling your walls tighten around him, so he gripped your hips even tighter, his fingers leaving marks on your skin. “Say it again…”

"Logan!" You moaned out again, wanting him to know you only wanted to scream his name ever again. "Oh god," you cried out, holding onto him as you wrapped your arms around his neck to anchor yourself to him. 

His eyes meet yours, filled with a mix of primal lust and the slightest hint of a deeper emotion. "I like hearing you say my name," he hummed before his lips crashed onto yours. His tongue dominated your mouth, demanding submission as his thrusts became more desperate and needy.

You can't help but stare up at him, slack-jawed from the pleasure, moans, cries, and whimpers stumbling from your mouth in a desperate attempt to talk. "Y-Yes," you said simply as your eyes rolled back slightly. "You're fucking me so good, Logan.”

His adrenaline spiked at the sound of his name coming from your lips while he fucked you. "Damn right, I am." He grinned down at you, feral and satisfied. “You like it when I make sure to remind you who you belong to?” He asked roughly. 

Logan's eyes rolled back in his head as he lost himself in the sensation of being inside you. He pounded into you relentlessly, the bed creaking and shaking with the force of his thrusts. His claws extended and dug into the mattress on either side of your head as he held himself above you, he'd take care of that later, all he could focus on was how good you felt around him. He increased his pace, his hips snapped forward as he buried himself inside you over and over. His breathing grew heavier and his face contorted with pleasure. He leaned down and bit down on your collarbone, his teeth sinking into your flesh.

You flinched slightly when his claws came out, but you still clung to him, not afraid of the animal that threatened to release. He continued to keep going, but you looked up at him in a haze and bit your lip before speaking. "Logan, can you....”

Logan slowed down, retracted his claws, and looked down at you, his expression filled with concern as he leaned down and brushed a strand of hair away from your face. "What is it? Did I hurt you?”

"No, you didn't hurt me, I was actually going to ask if... you'd put your hand around my throat as you fucked me?” What kind of request was that for your first time with him?! You felt crazy for even asking, but it was something you thought about for a while now, though you wouldn’t confess that right away.

Logan's pupils dilated with desire at your words. He reached up and wrapped his hand around your throat, his thumb resting lightly against your pulse. He began to move inside you again, his pace slow and measured, his eyes locked onto yours. "Like that?”

"Y-yes, like that," you smiled shyly and closed your eyes as his thrust pushed deeper into you. "Just like that.”

Logan tightened his hand around your throat as he increased his pace, his hips snapping forward as he buried himself inside you over and over, his breathing grew heavier, and his face contorted with pleasure. He leaned down and bit down on your collarbone, his teeth sinking into your flesh. He suddenly growled possessively against your skin as he felt you tensing beneath him. He could sense that you were close, and he wanted to push you over the edge right along with him. He tightened his hand around your throat further and increased his pace, his hips slamming into yours with brutal force.

"Yes! Like that! Just like that, oh my god!" You cried out and held onto his arms, your nails digging further into his skin as they caused the flesh beneath them to tear open. 

He let out a deep, guttural growl as you cut him open, his skin repairing the second you caused any damage.  Logan's response to your cries was a feral snarl as he felt his control slipping. He released your throat and sat up, grabbing your legs and throwing them over his shoulders. He pounded into you with reckless abandon, his fingers digging into the mattress as he chased his release. "Fuck, I'm so close…”

“L-Logan, please,” you begged, “come inside of me, need you to fill me up!” you cried out, the sound coming from your throat was broken, strangled, your voice taken as he pounded into you.

Logan’s muscles strained as he continued to thrust into you, his movements became erratic and desperate as he felt himself reaching the edge, and his breaths were ragged as he could feel the pressure building within him. Suddenly, he let out a deafening growl as he finally succumbed to the pressure, burying his face into the crook of your neck as he came hard, his hot seed inside of you as he continued to thrust through his own release. His body convulsed, and his breathing was hot and heavy against your skin as you finally let your body go, the crash of pleasure hitting your body hard as your back was arched, your body and hips snapped up against him, his thrusts working you through your own orgasm.

As you clung to his body, your arms wrapped around his neck as your thighs squeezed him, pulling him deeper inside of you as Logan sighed, resting his head on your shoulder for a moment just to bask in the afterglow. Logan remained buried inside you, his arms wrapped around your legs as he tried to catch his breath. He pressed his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent and feeling completely sated for the first time in a long while. "Fuck, that was intense.”

You couldn't speak, you lay there with Logan's heavy body on top of you as you panted in short breaths, hoping to lay here as long as you could while you stared up at him with a thin sheen of sweat coating your face. He was a natural heater for you, his body pressed over yours as he brought a gentle kiss to your temple while you gently rubbed his arm, then you brought your hand to his face and rubbed your thumb against his cheek. 

Logan nuzzled into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed briefly. He then looked up at you, his expression tender. "You should stay the night here in my room.” His hands squeezed your thigh gently as he reached down. "Unless you have somewhere else to be, of course. Unless...you don't want to.” He hesitated, his grip on your thigh tightening slightly. "I mean, if you have other plans, I get it.”

That confidence and cockiness he had earlier was gone, it was as if he had changed into another person, one that was much more vulnerable now that you two were alone in your own world. “Logan, I'd love to stay the night with you,” you said softly, your hand reaching up to cup his face gently. “I always wished you woulda asked me.” You had a playful tone as you spoke, lightening the mood a little.

He pulled out of you slowly, his gaze never leaving yours as he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your belly, then he wrapped his arms around you, holding you firmly against him as he settled beside you. “Mhm good, I don't want you to leave yet.”

You lay in his grasp, your half-lidded eyes staring into his as you reached a hand to brush your fingers through his hair, finally able to feel the closeness you’d wanted for so long. Your eyes closed, breathing in your mixed scents as you let out a small, satisfied hum. “You know, Charles is right about one thing, I do get distracted by you,” you muttered softly. 

The way you whispered this, the way you looked into his eyes as you spoke, your expression filled with such adoration, it pulled at him more than he would ever care to admit. His gaze softened as he placed his hand on your chin, his thumb gently sliding across your bottom lip as his eyes darted to your lips. “Guess Charles ain’t too daft after all,” he teased. Logan let out a long exhale, his arms tightened around you as you nuzzled further against him.

You let out a small chuckle as you looked up at him, your eyes glued to him as you got to really look at his face so close, seeing his features in a different light. “You know, I kinda like soft Logan, and not in a degrading way, mind you, just nice to see you let your guard down, showing me how you feel.”

His chest tightened at your words, but not in an uncomfortable way, he understood exactly what you meant, but he wouldn’t deny the sense of comfort it gave him to know that he could be vulnerable around you. 

“Mhm, I ain’t used to showin’ that side of me, but here, baby girl, let me show you how I really feel,” he hummed, pulling you into a deep kiss, his need for you consuming him. 

[creatingblackcharacters]

"Calling Out Racists? Help!"

(shout out to the situation sender who's chosen to remain anonymous!)

NOTE: People of color, if you feel that your efforts would be in vain or cause more pain than it's worth, I fully respect not doing it. I've been there, and tbh I usually don't. But white netizens, I expect boots on the ground. Racism festers when no one does anything about it.

So, it's finally happened! You've come face to face with antiblackness in your fandom space. You never thought it could be this bad! Naturally YOU don't condone this behavior, so you take steps to remove yourself from this person.

However! Your friends and other fans are still happily sharing from someone that you KNOW is capable of this. Would they still be comfortable knowing they're yapping amongst racists? And then you wonder- should I tell everyone about them? I mean, surely everyone should know?

Thus we've come to the decision:

The Callout

In my honest opinion, callouts are morally neutral. When used to reveal consistent harmful beliefs, intentions, and behaviors to other people, usually of marginalized identities, I think they're critical. Our safety and humanity matters far more than someone's internet fame. If I can't stop someone from being a racist, I at least don't want their vitriol on my dash, and I ALSO don't want people thinking I agree! Racism shouldn't be tolerated at all, but unfortunately, many an antiblack racist has a popular following and will not be removed. Anything less overt than a slur like the example above is more often than not, not a dealbreaker for many.

On the other hand, when it is maliciously weaponized to drag someone down on nothing but hearsay and rumor, it can be devastating. It has often been used as retaliation against those very same marginalized peoples to shut down discussions of racism and other forms of bigotry. In my opinion, you should not do these sorts of things when you don't have any solid proof or an actual education on what you're talking about. Period.

I say that all to say, be intentional. Use your discernment and some critical thinking.

How Ice Deals With It

Let's say you see something that concerns you. First, you need to pay attention to if other Black fans have noted this person's behavior. Has it been previously noticed, have they seen dogwhistles you've completely missed? Keep in mind as well, antiblackness does not have to come from a white person. Don't let "I'm brown" fool you.

If you're confident: confront the person on the particular issue you've noticed.

‼️‼️‼️ For the maintenance of your mental health, you CANNOT go into this expecting to change someone's mind and behavior. If you do, 9/10 you will face demoralization. You cannot walk into these thinking they care. Most people don't, and will deny the harm of their behavior. It sucks, but it's the truth. Change your perspective. The only goal you need to have is pointing out the harm done, so that this person loses the excuse to be racist out of "ignorance". Once you've spoken up, ball's now in their court.

Confrontation doesn't have to be negative! It can be as simple as "hey, what you said was not okay, here's why, and I hope that you can learn from this to do better for yourself and for your fans." Simple, to the point.

‼️Keep in mind, from Fans of Color: the private confrontation is a sign that we're trying to give you a chance to do right. Everyone's not going to receive that grace, nor do I expect every fan of color to offer it. It might just be up with you and your racism that day. 🤷🏾‍♀️ I would take the chance if offered.‼️

We're going to go two routes here.

1) It works

If it works, then what should come next is 1) a full acknowledgment of the violence and harm, 2) visible steps to ameliorate that harm, and 3) an apology to those harmed.

It doesn't have to be a complex apology (unless the situation itself was that large). But it has to be genuine and the change needs to be seen.

Very often you'll see apologies for antiblackness... To white fans. You cannot apologize for your actions to people who were not harmed by them, because they are not the ones with the right to accept the apology!!!! It's not a real apology. They've just covered for being exposed, is all. Be willing to hold each other accountable!

2) It doesn't work

This might still happen after the "it works", btw! Some people genuinely just want the appearance of progressiveness.

Here's where it gets gritty and you'll experience the most discomfort, I'm just being honest:

They might fucking suck!

They might suck, they might make it a point to share with their followers that you suck, and those same followers might also suck! You know how they sound? Like those people who fought for rapist Brock Turner because "he had a good future and this shouldn't ruin it". Yeah.

Recognize that this backlash you may experience from strangers is not coming just from their need to be entertained, but from a realization that if their fave is antiblack and they agree, then THEY are being antiblack too.

That acute pain you're feeling from this effort- you're now feeling a part of the chronic pain that is being a Black fan! And if you're white, you just temporarily sacrificed your whiteness to defend what was right, and now you are seeing a piece what that whiteness shields you from. Idk how else to put it.

Now what?

Well first, this shouldn't make you go "oh well there's no point in fighting racism bc they're so mean." Why do you want to identify with the people who just acted like that lmao. Antiracism is hard, but the right thing isn't always easy. Stand up and dust yourself off, soldier.

Take the steps to protect yourself. That might be a break from socials to decompress. Block people as necessary, use the tag blocker thing.

Recognize that you are not in the wrong for wanting this harm to be accounted for. If this person didn't want to be seen as a willful racist, they should have chosen to do better. They didn't want to, they chose to triple down on their racism, which they are now aware of doing! They just don't care. And that's not within your control. They wanna be a racist, let them be treated like one!

"Curate your space" as they say, and recognize that antiblackness is going to have you potentially removing folks you thought were cool left and right. You might see some people close to you show their true colors. It's time to make some tough personal decisions. I can't walk you through that. But I don't want to be around people who treat antiblackness with apathy, because birds of a feather... 👀

I obviously didn't cover every single scenario here. And this is only *my* way of dealing with these things (if I do at all, anymore). Some folks may go about it differently. But yeah, in summary, go in to point the racism out, and don't let the response determine your self value. 👍🏾

[risuola]

CALL IT DOUBLE TROUBLE — F. READER x GOJO SATORU & GETO SUGURU, who have a habit of sharing everything

It’s been a while since you last saw your college ex-boyfriend Gojo and a Halloween party led to your reconnection. It was cool to see him again, although your break-up was messy. What turned out to be a plot twist, was that he now has a handsome best friend and together, they are deadly.

cw: smut, exes to lovers, strangers to lovers, threesome, double penetration, praise, cum play, oral (f & m receiving), su*cide is mentioned (no description, just brief mention), reader discretion is advised — 6k words

masterlist

a/n: with that post I'm concluding the kinktober - sorry about the delay! work overwhelmed me, it sucked the life out of me, but I'll be getting back to writing now, so stay tuned! also, we hit 1300 followers, so I just want to say thank you so much for being here and reading the shit I post!

You were never that big on parties – you found them mostly annoying with the masses pushing and pulling all around you, drunk assholes that never seem to understand how consent works and even more drunk girls, that throw themselves at anyone slightly attractive. At least that’s how you remember every party you were on during your college years. You experienced firsthand how much effort men can put into chasing a hem of a mini skirt and you also saw in real life, how women were flexing their assets just to get into the pants they want. Unfortunately, usually pants that were in the biggest demand, were coincidentally belonging to your boyfriend. Uh, yeah, maybe that’s why you don’t really like parties.

Dating Satoru Gojo was a blessing, in some parts – he was just lovely to you. He was caring, to some extent, he was sweet-talking you into everything he wanted, and his arrogance always seemed to fly right over your head, but you loved him for longer than he deserved. You trusted him to not sleep with those eagerly spreading girls and he never did. At least that’s what you like to believe. Flirting with them – that was a different story. Satoru was an attention whore, really. He was basking in the gazes glued to him, the salivating mouths were feeding his already enormous ego and he seemed to have the time of his life pulling the strings of those poor, naïve girls that every time believed him when he told them they are just so pretty. His crystalline blue eyes were capable of turning lesbians into straight and straights into gay. The number of suggestive pictures he posed for flooded your social media each time after the parties you attended with him, and not one of those pictures he’s ever taken with you. And then, after leaving the frat houses and clubs, he would tell you how lucky you are to have him, how all of those silly girls were offering him their pussies oh so eagerly. He’d tell you how they envied you. All while he’d fuck you. You spent two years with him, then came the break-up and just as everything that involved Satoru was messy – so was your parting.

You really had no pleasure in partying, after freeing yourself from the toxicity of Gojo, you finally found peace. You flew through college with ease and after it ended, you found yourself quite a nice job – you were okay without attending any kinds of alcohol and loud music related people gatherings. That’s until Shoko called you earlier that month, practically begging you to pay her a visit on Halloween. She was in the city, having her family house all to her disposal due to her family being on a trip somewhere warm. It was a party where all of your college, mutual friends were going to be, a little reconnection if you will and she insisted you show up as well. It really sounded lovely to see where all of your friends landed in lives. With some you still had a regular contact, but some just went their ways and you rarely crossed paths with them, so you agreed to be there. That was a perfect opportunity to catch up and you were excited.

For some unknown reason, not even once you considered Gojo to be there as well. You just kind of pushed the memory of him to the back of your head, you removed him from the picture of your mutual circle of friends and completely you forgot that he’ll most likely be there as well. You realized it when Shoko asked you about him.

“Have you seen Gojo already?”, her tone was quite cautious when she mentioned the name to you, and with the way you looked at her from above your dying cigarette, she spoke again, “You know he’s gonna be there as well, don’t you?”

“Guess I blacked out that possibility,” you mumbled, shrugging softly to shake off the uneasiness of the thought and killing the cig in the sink before throwing it away. “No, I haven’t seen him and I hope it will stay that way.”

“Oh, you’re still wounded after him?”

“No, Sho, I’m not wounded,” you grabbed yourself a red cup from the array on one of the tables in the kitchen. You had no idea what concoction of liquid courage was inside every each of them, but you really couldn’t care less. If that was one of your first parties in years, you were not going to be picky and you trusted Shoko enough to not have death in those cups. “I’m really not. Thing is… I don’t know, it’s been so many years, I’m not really sure what to even tell him. We broke up in a mess that wasn’t addressed ever since, so you know.”

“Yeah, right, I remember the insanity of that action. Gojo was haunting my dreams for two weeks after the suicidal stunt he pulled off.” Ieiri flinched at the memory but laughed right after realizing how stupid all of that was. “He was a drama queen, we have to give him that.”

“See?”

“Well, you’ll most likely see him anyway, so just a hi will be good.”

“Noted.”

She left you to greet someone, and you shook your head, hoping to get rid of the flashbacks, but they were inevitable, you guessed it. Long time after ending things with Gojo you couldn’t find peace after what happened. You think you will forever remember the argument that unraveled after you told him you’re breaking up with him. There was so much screaming, your head pounded with pain for two days straight after that. Nothing more than accusing of the most bizarre shits and poison was spilling from his mouth when, for the first time, Satoru Gojo was informed that someone else is leaving him. Usually, it was him who ended things up, it was him who was cutting the strings and he was too immature back then to come to terms that other people are also entitled to just go away. You remember he went completely feral, almost psychotic as he was laughing at some point, throwing ironic insults at you as if it was gonna make you stay. He had to prove a point that it’s not you who want to leave him. It’s him who want to break up and you just accidentally happened telling him that before he managed to do so. After that, he threatened you that he will kill himself and he made it everybody’s problem – you had to know it, Shoko had to know it and every single one of your friends had to know it as well. You heard from Ieiri that after about three weeks he got back to being his usual arrogant playboy, as if he didn’t just cause drama of the century. He moved on. Traumatized everyone around him, but moved on nonetheless. Now you found the situation kind of funny. You were just kids and you were not meant to be together. That’s just how life works and you wondered sometimes if Satoru learned a little more life after that or did he stay the same.

Sighing again, you took the cup and slipped in between people in the living room, stepping outside to breathe some fresh air on the terrace, thankful that no one was there. Or so you thought and no wonder you almost jumped out of your own skin when you heard a voice right next to you.

“Fire?” He asked, after a moment of watching you search for the lighter in the pockets of your makeshift schoolgirl uniform. The unlit cigarette in your mouth betraying what you were looking for.

His tone was soft, saccharine sweet and calm at the same time and as you looked up at him, it somewhat matched the picture that met your eyes. The man was tall and broad, dressed all in black with dress pants and a hoodie. His sleeves half up, exposing the veiny forearms as he was keeping his lighter visible, ready to give you a hand.

“Yes, please,” you replied finally, leaning into the fire he opened and with relief you take the first breath in. You were not a smoker in your day-to-day life. One pack of cigarettes lasted you a year, but it was Shoko’s influence that today made you poison your lungs more than usual. “Thanks.”

“I’m Suguru. Geto Suguru,” he introduced himself, offering you his palm and you gave it a short squeeze, telling him your own name. You couldn’t find his face in your memories, and you’d like to think that such handsome features would tattoo themselves into your brain in one way or another. He had to come with someone else, you figured. Probably a boyfriend or a husband even. You couldn’t care less about asking. “Enjoying the party?”

“I’m not big on parties, really,” you shrugged, keeping your gaze away from him because hell, he made it so easy to stare with his long luscious, black hair resting over his shoulders and back, half tied up in a little bun just to get them out of his face. You couldn’t tell what his costume was, he had some kind of alternative style going on, slightly rocker vibes with his pierced ears and silver chains hanging from his neck, but it might have as well be his usual style – he looked good in it. He most certainly looked like a big, red flag but hell was the flag attractive.

“I see. Well, I’m not either,” he confessed, huffing out a greyish cloud of smoke out of his lungs and by the smell of it, you could tell it wasn’t nicotine.

“What you’re smoking?”

“Weed, why? Wanna try it?” It was an offer that you should politely say no to, but it was your first and probably last party in a while, so you asked yourself why not and took the joint from his fingers.

“So, you’re here with someone?” you questioned, just to keep the conversation going once you gave him the smoke back. You could feel the unfamiliar but somehow pleasant burn in your lungs after the drag you took and slowly you blew the fume out. Suguru found the view attractive. Sharing a joint with you felt a little more intimate than it should have, the way your lips wrapped around the brownish paper made him wonder how would they look wrapped around something else. Thoughts like this shouldn’t bloom in his head right after he’s met you, not when he’s an adult man, not a stupid kid anymore, but some things couldn’t be stopped.

“Yeah,” he inhaled once more, deeply enough to kill the joint and throw it away. You watched for a moment how he kept the smoke in his lungs, letting it go after a moment. The cloud escaping through his mouth and nose in a soft stream. Fuck, what a gorgeous man. Whoever was the girl that got him had to be lucky. “You know him, he told me about you.”

Oh, never mind.

“He? Ah, fuck, don’t tell me you came here with that idiot,” you reached down for your cup that few moments prior you put on the ground while searching for a lighter.

“Ow, you’re hurting my feelings, sweetheart.”

And there he was. You wondered where that tower of an asshole hid.

Once you look back at Geto, there was also Satoru. He was standing next to his friend slash partner, with his forearm propped over Suguru’s shoulder as he looked at you from above the black glasses, with the very familiar grin painted on his face. Gojo changed a lot since you last saw him. He was now buffier, seemed even taller than you remembered, and his facial features matured – his jaw became more square, eyes a little more lidded and even the smirk on his lips seemed less playboy-ish and more menacingly manly. He lost his princess looks and became a man. You wondered if his character changed as well, because you could still see him using his looks to take what he wanted.

“Oh, do I?” You questioned, eyeing him up and down. His clothes were almost exactly the same as Geto’s – only difference being the light color and the fact his sweatshirt had no hood. What he was wearing completely contrasted to what his friend had on and it made sense if they were here together. Black and white, like yin and yang. You had no idea if they were here as friends or lovers, but either way, you wouldn’t be surprised.

“You sure do,” Satoru shook his head, his smile now more friendly as he approached you, entrapping you in a hug that surely took you by surprise. “It’s good to see you, beautiful.”

“You too,” you guessed, not completely convinced about what you just said but you let it be.

“I’m sorry. I have to say it before you run away from me. I’m really sorry, I was a dick when we were dating,” Gojo’s voice reached your ears directly, but you had a hard time believing what you were hearing. He was never a type to apologize for anything. Please, sorry and thank you is a set of words that you were certain he never used and yet there he was, saying just that. He really evolved. Or he wanted something.

“Yeah, you were. Hope you’re not anymore,” you chuckled softly, brushing your hand over his side.

“I try not to be,” he confessed quietly, pressing a tender kiss to the side of your neck before letting go of you. He shouldn’t have kiss you like that, but the feeling of longing was way stronger than him. Even if for a moment, he had to just have a little taste of you.

Ever since you broke up, Gojo had no idea how much he missed having you in his arms. Up until that night he was okay with some random girls coming into and getting out of his bed with no strings attached. He seemed to be unable to form a lasting relationship after you, you were his first and last girlfriend that he committed to for so long, no matter how poorly. Even if he was nothing but an asshole to you, he often wished to marry you back in the college. Even if he couldn’t possibly show you how much he cared, because his childish behaviors were standing in the way of him reaching your heart properly, he really thought you will be the one and only in his life and even if he seemed to move on so quickly after you broke up with him, it was only for show. A cover up for the thunderstorm that was raging inside his chest, a band aid over the bleeding wound. No other girl was able to even half-fill the emptiness you left in his heart.

You were special to him and it thrilled him to the core when for the first time he heard from Shoko that you agreed to be there, because if it wasn’t for you, he wouldn’t show up as well. His time for partying finished along with his fourth year of college, when he realized there was less and less fun in drinking alcohol and forcing himself into flirting. When it came to you, he had never needed to force himself to do anything. He was just an immature kid when you dated, but he loved the time you gave him.

And now, you were still fitting perfectly into his body. As if he was made from memory foam that still remembered your shape. Now, you were still just as beautiful and breathtaking as he remembered you. In your little, schoolgirl mini skirt, thigh-high socks and a white button up shirt with a loosened tie you looked way sexier than you had a reason to. It’s been quite some time since he was that aroused from just looking at someone and you made him harder than he thought is possible. Fuck, what you were doing to him?

“So, what do you do now? Still living from party to party and from girl to girl?” You asked, taking a sip of your drink. It was strong and it really was better for you to take it in slowly, but there was a certain burn of nervousness tied to meeting your ex that you needed to drown.

“No, it’s in the past,” Satoru replied, inviting you inside, where all three of you found a nice place to sit on one of the couches. You landed between the two men. “I took the lead of my father’s company, Suguru’s my partner in crime. We’re doing good, I don’t party anymore. Honestly, if Shoko didn’t give me a sign that you will be there, I wouldn’t probably step by.”

“Oh, so you came to haunt me,” you joked, earning a soft chuckle from him.

“Yeah, kind of. Couldn’t reach you before and wanted to sort this whole mess out. I’m usually cool with having enemies, but you’re not someone I want to have as enemy.”

You gave his words a soft roll of your eyes. Maybe few years back you’d let yourself be sugarcoated into believing him, but not now. Maybe, just maybe, he matured a little, but some things will never change. Gojo was a flirt, is a flirt and probably will always be a flirt. But hell, was he cute. You cursed his innate ability to attract you from a mile.

“Sure, whatever,” you shrugged and the conversation after that was flowing nicely. You got to know Suguru, you learned who he is and why did he stick with Satoru. It was a friendship they developed that kept them together and maybe it was thanks to Geto that your ex wasn’t so much of an asshole anymore. Maybe it’s the brunette’s calm personality that somewhat grounded the playboy. Or maybe it was all an illusion. Yea, it had to be an illusion. There was no way that these two six-foot-three giants were not causing some troubles.

Yeah, they were a trouble. Double trouble, to be exact, and you got to learn that when the doors of one of many bedrooms on the floor closed behind you. You don’t even know how and why you agreed to go with them anywhere in the first place. You had no idea how on earth did Satoru sweet-talked you into fucking him again. For the old time’s sake, my ass. And more important, how did he sweet-talked you into fucking not only him, but also Suguru? At the same time?! You were not built for this, that’s for sure.

“Let’s have fun like we always did, yeah?” Gojo had this typical, shit-eating grin stretched on his face, when he was pulling you by the wrist onto the bed. Geto took his time and lit up another joint, opting to just stand and watch for now. He had a smirk on, his eyes were fixed on you, and you could tell that they weren’t new to sharing a woman. It really was obvious they did that before.

You had no time to think if that surprises you at all. Satoru was a stranger to patience. He never enjoyed waiting and always went straight for what he wanted, and this time was no exception.

“God, you look so fucking hot as a schoolgirl,” he muttered, burying his face into your neck, nibbing and kissing wet marks onto your skin whilst his fingers were already dealing with buttons of your white shirt. Your body acted on its own accord, responding to the red stains of his lips and the cold touch of his fingers with excitement that you felt for the last time when you were in college. It bothered you that you still were so receptive to the way he feels on you, you thought that you’re way over the Gojo effect but seems like you were gravelly wrong. “What a naughty one,” Satoru chuckled, his voice bordered a moan when he finally opened your shirt and your shapely tits, hugged beautifully by a lace bra entered his field of view. “Fuck, I missed those.”

“You’re talking too much,” you grabbed him by the hair, tugging the snow-white strands at the base of his neck and pushing his face down your neck and onto your chest, hoping it will shut him up. That was the issue with your ex. He really was a phenomenal lay but he was just talking so damn much. That was what ultimately pushed you over the edge when you were together back in the day. You just couldn’t stand listening about other women while he was with you.

“Maybe I am,” he chuckled, sucking a red spot onto one of your tits, earning himself another tug on the hair.

“Don’t mark me, idiot,” you warned him, but it was already too late and both of you knew it.

“My, my… so nervous. Let me help you relax,” Gojo smiled wide and made you lay flat on the bed. It took him no time to find his place between your thighs and before you even got a chance to react, he was already pulling your panties off of you. For a split second, your mind got distracted by the subtle scent of weed that’s filling the air. The smell that reminded you that it’s not only you and your ex in the room, but also another person.

“Don’t worry about me,” Geto smiled. Something mischievous lingered over his lips as he did before he took another drag. The joint between his fingers slowly but surely becoming smaller as he was saturating his lungs with the fumes, only to breathe them out after a moment.

“Are you not going to join?” You asked, your voice slightly breaking into a whine once Satoru flicked his tongue over your clit, reminding you how well he spoke the language of your body. He was fluent in your pleasure, you were never sure if it came to him with experience or was he just naturally gifted, but either way, he had a skill and was proud of it. He began eating you out like he was starving for the past decade. His tongue worked the puffy nub of nerves all the way around, he sucked and licked, slurped and kissed your cunt, causing your body to jolt in pleasure. He was purring while between your legs, his long fingers already working their way into your hole. The stretch was delicious, the symphony of his mouth and hands was slowly driving you insane.

“You’re so sweet,” Satoru mumbled, taking the pleasure away to smear some wet kisses along your inner thighs. “She’s so incredibly sweet, Suguru, you have to taste her,” he added, accentuating the thought with a bite onto the fat of your thigh. His friend just chuckled, making his way towards you and he handed you his half smoked joint.

“I’d love to,” Geto replaced your ex between your thighs. He kept looking into your eyes when he opened his mouth, presenting you with his pierced tongue. Little, metallic ball in the middle of the muscle glistened in the artificial lighting and it made you moan out loud, when he swiped it along your slit, gathering your juices. There was something absolutely intimidating about his calm demeanor, something nearly diabolic but it was exactly what attracted you to him. He was complete opposite to Satoru. He wasn’t bright and loud; his eyes weren’t big and vibrant. He looked mysterious, he kept himself quieter, his eyes kept the focus that Gojo couldn’t achieve. They really were made for each other.

“Oh god—,” your eyes nearly rolled back as he began working on your swollen clit ruthlessly. You had no idea if it was because of the piercing or was it just his skill, but it felt even better then when the snow-white was between your thighs. Or maybe it was just you being so turned on by him.

“You like it?”, your ex asked, grinning as he was taking the time to undress himself. “Knew you’re gonna enjoy it.”

You spared him the comment, losing the track of thoughts in the way Suguru was making you feel. You could have sworn you never felt something like this, he was just incredible with the way his tongue was engraving his own name into your clit. Cold metal of his piercing doubled down the pleasure you were receiving, contrasting with the heat of his muscle.

Your thighs began to tremble, your toes curled in, and you felt yourself quickly falling down the hole of ultimate lust. Euphoria was rushing through your veins; your heart was drumming in your chest as the smoke was leaving your lungs after the drag you took from the joint in your hand. Suguru was pushing you over the edge with such ease it felt illegal. You could feel him grinning proudly from his spot between your legs, you could feel his fingers gripping your hips with bruising strength, keeping them in place while he was slurping your soul straight from your weeping pussy.

Your orgasm exploded and you called out Suguru’s name. He didn’t stop. He kept drinking, thirsty for more of you as your juices coated his tongue and the bottom of his handsome face.

“You really do taste fucking sweet,” he commented, getting up and crawling above you. His lips were on yours the moment he reached your face. He tasted the smoke and you tasted yourself in that kiss. It didn’t last long, but the intensity of it made you almost dizzy. “Let’s get you out of this uniform.”

 It took just few moments until you were completely bare underneath the heavy gaze of two men around you. Satoru was just in his underwear, the tent in them painfully apparent and you knew him well enough that he won’t be able to wait much longer, but what bothered you was the fact that Suguru was still completely clothed. He looked sexy in his dark outfit, but he can look sexy in it later.

“Aren’t you a tease—” you muttered, once he got up from the bed to drown the rest of the joint in what little of alcohol was left in one of your cups on the bedside table. “Take this off.” You demanded, coming up to your knees and pushing his hoodie up.

“How demanding,” he laughed but complied and you managed to just blink twice before his god-like figure presented itself to you. A muscular, large body beautifully decorated with a dragon tattoo that wrapped its tail around his right bicep and spread on his back. You couldn’t decide what to focus on – his impressive musculature, the ink on his skin or the fact that even though he still had his pants on, you could already feel yourself salivating.

Satoru was right behind you, swiping the angry tip of his cock up and down your folds, gathering your slick and making you shiver from the touch. He then pushed his girth into you, stretching you impossibly and pulling a quiet, whiny fuck straight out of your throat. It’s been a while since you’ve been having sex with anyone, not to say anyone with that size, but you couldn’t deny that the burn was delicious. It set all your senses on fire, the heatwave washed over you and once Gojo went with the first thrust, it reminded you how much you missed the physical act of intimacy with him.

“Can’t focus, pretty girl?”, Suguru brought your attention back to himself. His long fingers gently gathered all of your hair into a messy ponytail, and you got the hint immediately. As on cue, you unbuckled his pants, pushing them down almost too eagerly. “Good girl.”

The praise in his tone got you weak, you were already becoming a mess from how perfectly Satoru was fucking you right now, pounding his hips against yours in the mind-numbing manner. His cock hitting all of the sweet spots inside of you with each long stroke and that was enough to make you almost incapable of thinking straight, but your hands and mouth acted on its own.

Geto watched how your lips wrapped around his dick. The sight of you taking him into your mouth with such hunger was something he wanted to engrave onto his brain and if the picture was amazing, then there was no word to describe the feeling itself. Your soft, plush lips felt divine brushing along his sensitive shaft, your tongue dancing around his length made him almost lose his composure. You were a sight. And you made him feel so good, he could feel himself twitching in the hot, wet embrace of your mouth. You were sucking him as if your life was depending on it, as if it was your last supper and you wanted to devour it and every time his plump tip hit the back of your throat, he could feel you taking control over him.

“Isn’t she amazing?”, Gojo mumbled from behind you. His grip remained iron on your hips, the bruising force being the only thing that was grounding you now. You could feel yourself clenching around him, your juices were running down your thighs and the wet sounds of skin slapping against each other were filling the room.

“Oh, she is,” Geto confirmed, applying some force onto your head. The tug on your hair was enough to send you overboard and the vibration of your throat once you moaned were enough for him as well. You couldn’t tell who came first, and frankly, you couldn’t care less about it, as long as it felt so damn good.

“I, fuck— I told you,” Satoru panted out. His hips moved slower as he was sloppily riding the high out. You licked the cock in front of you clean, satisfied with the first course but hungry for more.

You shouldn’t allow all of this to happen. There was not a single argument that could justify everything that was happening right now – you shouldn’t sneak out to god-knows-whose room in your friend’s house and you absolutely shouldn’t sneak out there with not only your ex-boyfriend but also his friend. You couldn’t even remember how you agreed to that. Why have you agreed to that? You had no idea. Was it to talk?

You wouldn’t exactly call the way your body was being stuffed full by two cocks at the same time talking. You were squeezing Suguru’s shoulders as he was thrusting his hips up against yours. His body below you, laying flat on the bed made for a canvas for your nails to leave marks, but he didn’t seem to mind at all. He was kissing you with a mixture of passion and laziness, a smirk stayed prominent on his lips as he was swallowing your moans. The subtle taste of weed in his mouth got you wanting more of him. He felt perfect in every way, his movements were setting your nervous system on fire as the heat was spreading over your entire body, radiating from your core. You could feel Satoru’s fingers teasing your clit, you could feel his lips smearing wet trails along your spine. The way his hips were moving seemed to be perfectly in sync with the brunette.

You were so full of them, you never felt something like this before. The initial pain you felt when Gojo pushed his girth into your asshole was long gone now as he was pounding into you in complete unison with how Geto was moving. The sensation of being so incredibly full turned your brain into a heated mush, your body was trembling between them, electrocuted time after time with a sharp waves of white pleasure. Your vision was blurry, the stars covered most of it. You could no longer tell whose hands were where and your thighs were wet and sticky from all the seed that was being pumped into you, gushing out with every piston of their hips.

“You’re so perfect for us,” someone told you. A low, rasped out voice resounded right next to your ear, followed by a harsh bite onto your shoulder and the sudden wave of new pain that radiated from it pushed you over the edge. You were speeding, falling with no parachute. You couldn’t breathe for a moment as the climax was overtaking you. “Such a good girl, you’re making so much mess.”

“Oh god,” you whimpered, gasping for air as their thrusts picked a pace. You couldn’t form any coherent sentence as they were fucking the soul out of your body. Right after you came, they both came as well. Their cum coated your insides and leaked onto your thighs, dripping down as they pumped into you some more.

Gojo was first to pull out, spreading your cheeks and admiring how his white overflown your hole. The menacing grin spread across his face as he gripped your hips and lifted you off Suguru’s cock. The long-haired man sat up as you, led by your ex’s hands turned to straddle Geto’s lap. Your back was facing his chest as he pulled you back onto his shaft. All of his length sank right into your ass, pulling a moan right from your chest.

“Look at you, so gorgeous,” Satoru was in front of you, admiring for a moment your bouncing figure before his long fingers slipped into your cunt, curling in a way that got him pressing onto your oversensitive sweet spots. “Open your mouth for me.”

You barely registered his words, but your jaw dropped nonetheless. His cum coated digits slid right through your lips and you sucked on them, twirling your tongue around and tasting the mixture of your juices and their seeds. Suguru’s hands were kneading your breasts as his friend was playing with the mess between your thighs.

There was something deeply erotic in a way the white-haired man kept your gaze up. How he looked right into your eyes while you were being fucked by his best friend, how he enjoyed the way you gave them your body to play however they wanted. And it felt even more erotic when Satoru licked the lone drop of cum that escaped the corner of your mouth only to kiss you right after.

Geto was still slamming his pelvis up and you got stuck in the realm of pleasure, hanging somewhere between the movements of the cock in your ass and the lips over your own. You could feel your thighs trembling. Your body, still oversensitive from the last orgasm and yet, already entering the state of another. The wave of lustful relief now flowing dangerously close to your core, the knot in your stomach holding just barely and you squeezed Satoru’s hair, tugging at them harshly. You were struggling to breathe through the heavy kiss he was laying on your lips, but the sensation of it rendered you unable to fight it.

And then it hit you once again. The man below you filled you to the brim, tearing down the last bits of composure you had and your world shattered once the final climax. You felt as if the lust and desire were steaming off of all three of you. The breaths were mixed and the tastes concocted. As all three of you fell onto the bed, blissfully satisfied, you began to slowly regain your mind to the sound of a soft chuckle from your left side. Satoru. He had a habit of laughing when he was fulfilled – a sign of his happiness, the state nearing high. There was some gratefulness in it as well.

“How are you feeling?”, the question came from the right side, where Suguru seemed to already plan how to take care of the entire mess. He kissed your shoulder softly.

“Good,” you replied to him, watching as he gathered himself up from the bed.

“You rest a little bit longer; I’ll go get washed first and then you two.”

[burr-ell]

Sometimes Things That Shake Up the Status Quo are Worse

I keep seeing people insisting that Exandria "can't return to the status quo, which was bad", but rarely do they say anything in support of that argument beyond "the Primes pick and choose favorites!". And while I'm not confident the show itself won't try to make that claim, the reality is that it just isn't borne out mechanically or narratively. Laying aside that non-Divine Soul sorcerers exist (like, and I'm just spitballing here, Aberrant Mind Ruidusborn), the gods work primarily through the on-the-ground efforts of clerics and paladins—people who have actively and consistently put in the work to devote themselves to the divine. This is a setting where resurrection magic, which relies on divine power, has been intentionally made more difficult than it is in DnD rules-as-written. Even clerics only get access to Divine Intervention at level 10 (when they've already spent a long time devoting themselves to their deity) and up until level 20 the chances of it actually working are vanishingly small—and level 20 clerics are both hard to come by and ultimately still limited.

In the rare event that the Prime Deities choose to bless someone who isn't a cleric or paladin, it's someone who has a good reason to have gotten their attention. Vax offered his life during a divine ritual in the burial site of the Raven Queen's most devoted champion and then actively committed himself to her cause. Yasha was an aasimar being mind-controlled by a devil who wound up at a divine altar and chose to worship Kord after he freed her. Orym is the devoted widower of someone who is in Melora's realm and was present at a ritual in a temple associated with Melora, and one of his companions prayed at a shrine to Melora on his behalf. Vex was directly in front of Pelor, had taken a leadership position in one of his sacred cities, and had received a vision from him directly—and even then, she had to earn it. Scanlan also had to earn the right to Ioun's favor and complete a trial, and had previously shown qualities and values that she believed were fitting of her champion. Fjord was a companion of a devoted cleric of Melora who had sought her help in keeping Uk'otoa sealed and made requests of her on Fjord's behalf, and Fjord also chose to meditate and then became a paladin devoted to her.

And in Exandria, if you don't want to follow a god, you don't have to. Percy, Keyleth, Grog, Beau, Veth, Caleb, Essek, most of Bell's Hells, the average commoner in the various cities the parties have traveled to—whether they outright dislike the gods as a whole or just don't have an interest either way, they're all capable of thriving with or without them, and indeed their problems are almost entirely caused by mortals. It's especially egregious when you consider that cities like Avalir were around during the Age of Arcanum, when the Prime Deities physically walked Exandria, and people like Laerryn, Patia, Zerxus, and Lacrytia Hollow—openly disdainful of the gods or even trying to create feats of magic to get on their level—were continuing business as usual. The previous god of death not only willingly abdicated in favor of a mortal during this time, but outright helped her do the job!

The Prime Deities can't win. If they didn't give anyone any power at all, they'd be viewed as selfish. If they'd stayed on Exandria after the Calamity, they'd be foolish and reckless. They're simply not capable of intervening and helping everyone, so they're labeled capricious. If they leave Exandria, they're abandoning not only their refuge and home, but also the people who need and rely on them. You can argue that "no one should have that much power" all you want, but I think it's exceptionally silly to take an argument meant to criticize the wealthy and powerful of our world (whose only unique quality is ultimately that they got lucky) and apply it to fictional deities (beings who are powerful by their very nature) who, while flawed, also think they're too powerful. They tried to protect Exandria from themselves and the Betrayers while still using their power to do right by the people there, and for the most part it was working just fine.

The "status quo" from before all this was and still is the best compromise available. No one has managed to sell a better one that doesn't amount to "cater to my blorbos and my self-indulgent idea of revolutionary politics, which may or may not also ultimately circle back to my blorbos". I think that's pretty telling.

[nellasbookplanet]

Book recs: the evil fungi did it

We all know of The Last of Us, but that franchise isn't the only example of fungal invasions. We've got zombies and apocalypses, we've got gothic horror, we've got fantasy, we've got romance, we've got space - no genre is safe from having their characters become the home of fungal organisms.

For more details on the books, continue under the readmore. Titles marked with * are my personal favorites. And as always, feel free to share your own recs in the notes!

If you want more book recs, check out my masterpost of rec lists!

The Girl with all the Gifts (The Girl with All the Gifts series) by M.R. Carey

Want another fungal zombie apocalypse? Then I come bearing great news! The Girl with All the Gifts is a post apocalyptic novel following a group of characters fleeing across an infested wasteland, trying to stay alive and hoping to find a cure. One of the characters is Melanie, a young girl who carries the contagion inside of her and hungers for flesh, but like many children of the apocalypse has kept her humanity. Is she and children like her the answer to the cure we are looking for? Or are they the start of something entirely new? This book has also been adapted as a movie!

Cold Storage by David Koepp*

Years ago, a quickly growing fungal organism capable of wiping out humanity came dangerously close to spreading. It was contained and kept in cold storage underneath a military repository. Since then, a larger storage facility has been built on top, the dangers on the lower floor being largely forgotten. That is, until it makes a new attempt at escape. Now, two unsuspecting security guards might be all that stands in the way of complete extermination. This book is both funny and genuine in its characters, and genuinely creepy in its portrayal of body horror.

Salvaged by Madeline Roux

Rosalyn Devar is on the run from her famous family, and has run so far she ended up in space. Now she works as a "space janitor", being sent off to clean up the remains of failed research expeditions. But in trying to cope with her problems, she has fucked up on her job multiple times, and is now close to losing her position. Her last chance is the Brigantine: a research vessel gone silent, all crew presumed dead. But when she arrives to salvage it, Rosalyn discovers the crew isn't as dead as presumed. But are they still human - and will Rosalyn be able to keep her own humanity?

The Annual Migration of Clouds by Premee Mohamed

Novella. Reid is a young woman living in a small community after a climate collapse. Resources are scarce, but Reid's biggest problem is Cad, a mind-altering fungal parasite that lives inside her body. When she is offered a rare chance at attending a far-away university in a secluded dome community, Reid must decide whether to leave or stay to help support her community.

Mexican Gothic by Silvia Moreno-Garcia*

Noemí Taboada is a glamorous and well-off young woman, but when she receives a frantic letter from her newly-wed cousin, Noemí must leave her glamorous life and travel to find out what is wrong. As she arrives at High Place, a mansion on the Mexican countryside, Noemí is met with mysteries and her cousin's new English family. As she tries to find out the truth behind High Place and its inhabitants, Noemí's only ally is the youngest son of the family. But will she be able to find out what so scared her cousin before it's too late for all of them?

Sorrowland by Rivers Solomon

A young pregnant woman flees a cult that left her body strange and changing in terrifying ways. Hiding from both a world wanting to oppress her and the cult seeking to force her back, she does her best to raise her children while trying to find out the truth of the cult and being pursued by a hunter in a dangerous game of cat and mouse. Bleak and scary, Sorrowland is a book that will creep under your skin with horrors both fantastical and very, very real.

What Moves the Dead (Sworn Soldier duology) by T. Kingfisher

Novella. Alex Easton, retired soldier, travels to visit their childhood friends, siblings Madeline and Roderick Usher, after finding out that Madeline is dying. In the siblings' rural, ancestral home, Madeline walks in her sleep and looks to be fading away, while around it wildlife seems to be possessed by a strange force. With the help of a mycologist and an American doctor, Alex attempts to save Madeline and reveal the truth of her illness.

Wanderers (Wanderers duology) by Chuck Wendig

A strange illness has struck the United States: with no warning, random people with seemingly no connection simply get up and start walking. They do not eat, do not sleep, do not communicate, and they do not stop - and if you try to force them, they literally explode from the inside. Teenaged Shana isn't one of these sleepwalkers, but her little sister is. Unwilling to leave her sister on her own, Shana accompanies the growing flock of walkers, protecting them as one of many "shepherds". And this protection proves necessary, as the sleepwalkers is only the first step toward what might very well be the extinction of the human race. An 800 page epic, Wanderers is a slowburn apocalypse story with a multitude pov characters and plot threads, from fungal pandemics and all-knowing AI to the all too real portrayal of radicalization and bigotry.

The Dawnhounds (The Endsong series) by Sascha Stronach

The Dawnhounds is a book where you just kind of have to let the story and the world wash over you. It skirts the line of scifi and fantasy, with a futuristic world of environmentally friendly mushroom houses and deadly fungi bio weapons next to literally god-given superpowers and near-immortality. It’s really cool and unlike anything else I’ve ever read, but also a bit confusing. Bonus: it’s also sapphic!

Agents of Dreamland (Tinfoil Dossier trilogy) by Caitlín R. Kiernan

Novella. A government agent known only as the Signalman; a cult preying on the young and vulnerable, promising to usher in a new age; a woman who exists outside of time, searching for a way to save humanity. Agents of Dreamland is short, but includes many spooky elements, among them an alien and possibly world-ending fungi. The narrative is non-linear and a bit strange, but also fascinating.

The Genius Plague by David Walton

Soon after landing his dream job at the NSA, things get weird for Neil Johns. His brother Paul, a mycologist, returns from a trip to the Amazon, carrying a nearly lethal fungal infection and a strangely sharpened mind. At work, Neil starts picking up mysterious messages originating out of South America, where cases similar to that of Paul starts occurring. And strangest of all: all the infected seem to be working towards the same goal. Recommended with the caveat that, while the fungal stuff is really cool, The Genius Plague is also happy to idolize American intelligent agencies and demonize environmentalism and anti-imperialism.

Little Mushroom: Judgement Day (Little Mushroom duology) by Shisi

An Zhe isn’t human. He’s a mushroom who absorbed the DNA of a dying man, allowing him to take on human guise and leave the wilderness. Entering one of the last human bases, a place struggling to keep out the mutated and dangerous creatures of the wilds, An Zhe must keep his identity secret as he searches for something which was taken from him. While not my cup of tea (frankly, I need more female characters), Little Mushroom is an undeniably unique m/m romance novel.

Bonus AKA these don't technically involve any fungi but have similar vibes of parasites and nature corrupting the human

Parasite (Parasitology trilogy) by Mira Grant*

In the near future, a great leap in medical science has improved human health by leaps and bounds: a genetically engineered tape worm. Within a few years, almost every human has their own personal parasite implanted. But now, something is happening to the parasites - they want more, whether their hosts want to share or not.

Annihilation (Southern Reach trilogy) by Jeff Vandermeer

For decades, Area X has been completely cut off from humanity. The only ones to enter are small organized expeditions, many of which never return, or return... wrong. We follow the latest expedition, its participants known only as the anthropologist, the psychologist, the surveyor, and our narrator, the biologist. As they enter into Area X to try to find out its secrets, only one thing is for sure: they will never be the same again.

Wilder Girls by Rory Power

Young adult. Over a year ago, the Raxter School for Girls was hit by the Tox, a strange disease that killed off many and left the survivors' bodies slowly changing in terrifying ways. The island the school is on has been in quarantine since then, and the girls dare not leave the school grounds lest they become victims of wild animals changed by the Tox. But as they wait for the promised cure, one of the girls goes missing, and her friends are willing to do anything to find her. Unsettling, spooky, and sapphic, this is a unique read featuring body horror and messy, dangerous girls.

(Second) Bonus AKA I haven't read these yet but they seem really cool

City of Saints and Madmen (Ambergris trilogy) by Jeff Vandermeer

Ambergris, a city created by a mushroom-like people, is now the home of humans, but the original inhabitants are still there, residing beneath the city.

Creatures of Want and Ruin (Diabolist's Library series) by Molly Tanzer

It’s the prohibition era, and while Ellie does fishing during the day, at night she bootlegs moonshine in Long Island. But unbeknownst to Ellie, some of the booze she smuggles has a strange source: distilled from mushrooms by a cult, it causes those who drink it to see terrible things, such as the the destruction of Long Island.

Bloom by Wil McCarthy

The inner solar system has been overtaken by fast-reproducing, fast-mutating technogenic life. Humanity has fled to the outer solar system, hiding beneath the ice of Jupiter's moon, but even here they aren't safe from possible incursion of mycospores, which lead to deadly blooms. Now a group of astronauts venture back to an infected Earth.

[queenshelby]

Sweet Possession (Part 5)

Pairing: Very Dark! Thomas Shelby (32) x Innocent! Reader (19)

Warning: Age Gap, Smut

Two days later, when you were working at the orphanage again, it came as a surprise to you that Michael Grosvenor, the man who had invaded your personal space in Thomas' eyes, was no longer there. According to another staff member, Michael had resigned and his abrupt departure surprised you.

"He resigned? Really?"  you asked the staff member, surprised by this sudden turn of events. You wondered if Thomas had anything to do with Michael's departure, but you quickly dismissed the thought. 

"Yes, he came in and gave his resignation this morning without any prior notice," the staff member explained to you. "He just said that he received a better offer elsewhere and couldn't pass it up."

You nodded, trying to process this information.  Something didn't quite add up, but you couldn't put your finger on it. You had never seen Thomas act out of anger, but there was something in the way he had reacted to hearing about Michael two nights ago that made you think twice. Your husband was an influential man, and you knew he had connections all over town. But still, to get an employee fired just for touching your arm seemed extreme, even for a man of his standing. 

But you quickly pushed the thought out of your mind as you turned back to your work at the orphanage. The children needed your attention and, as an employee there, you did not want to let them down.

Eventually, days turned into weeks and soon a month had passed since your wedding day. You had settled well into your new life with Thomas. He was attentive and kind, always making sure that you were well taken care of. Twice a week, you worked at the orphanage with Isiah by your side and twice a week, you cooked, for your husband and the staff of the house, which was something you truly enjoyed. 

In your time off, Thomas and you would spend it together in his house which became more of a home with each day that passed. You also enjoyed the stables, riding horses and even having days in bed with your new husband, exploring each other's bodies and learning new things about one another. It was during those moments that you truly felt like a married couple, in love and content.

But, despite the love that Thomas had for you, there were moments where he would disappear for hours, sometimes entire days and nights on end. You never asked where he went or what he did but his absence would leave you feeling empty and anxious. He would always come back to you eventually, hands clean of any negative deeds, simply telling you that "he had business to attend to" before pulling you into a tight embrace.

You knew better than to ask questions, knowing that he would never reveal the truth behind his absence and that his world was one you had only scratched the surface of.

Still, despite the unknown aspects about your husband, you trusted him while, unbeknownst to you, Thomas Shelby was one of the most ruthless men in Birmingham. But, when it came to you, his wife, he was as gentle as a lamb. Your innocence seemed to calm him down and make him a better man. 

Little did you know, that beneath his charming exterior and seemingly kind demeanor was a man capable of murder, extortion, and other heinous crimes. This side of him he reserved for his business dealings with other gang members and none of them revealed anything about your husband's crimes to you until the day you were shocked when you read the morning paper. 

"Man found murdered by the docks," the headlines  screamed at you, as you sat down on the comfortable armchair with a cup of tea in your hands. The photo accompanying the article was a gruesome one, showing a man's lifeless body lying crumpled and twisted next to the water.

Your heart skipped a beat when you recognized the victim as Michael Grosvenor, your colleague from the orphanage. The name registered in your mind immediately and with it came the memories of his sudden departure from the children's home just weeks ago. 

"Isiah, did you see this?" you asked , your voice trembling as you held up the paper for him to see.

Isiah, who had been standing by the window, watching the morning rain, turned to look at you. His expression was one of surprise and concern as he took in the headline.

"Hmm," he muttered under his breath, his eyes scanning the article while he shook his head, sighing deeply in disbelief as if he already knew that Michael Grosvenor was dead.

"You don't seem to be surprised, Isiah. Why is that?" you asked, your eyes narrowing as you studied his face.

"I can't say, Miss," Isiah replied, his tone carefully neutral. "It'sjust, I had a feeling, you know." 

You nodded, although you couldn't shake an uneasy feeling growing in your stomach. "Who would do such a thing?" you asked , your voice barely above a whisper as you struggled to process the information. You were shocked and horrified to find out that Michael had been murdered.

"I couldn't say, Miss," Isiah replied, his expression somber. "It could be anyone. Birmingham is a dangerous place, after all, that's why your husband has me looking after you when he isn't around." 

You nodded slowly, still trying to make sense of it all. Your mind kept drifting back to Thomas and the possessiveness he had shown towards you. You wondered if there was a connection between his behavior and Michael's murder.

But the thought of Thomas being capable of such a thing was impossible for you to comprehend. He had never shown any violent tendencies towards you and had always been kind and gentle. Yet, you couldn't ignore the feeling that something wasn't quite right.

Later that day, when your husband returned home, you couldn't help but observe him closely. He was charming and polite as always, his eyes softening when they met yours. But there was a tension in his shoulders that hadn't been there before.

"Is everything okay, Thomas?" you asked, your voice hesitant as you stepped closer to him.

"Of course, Love," Thomas replied, his voice soothing as he pulled you into his embrace. "Why do you ask?"

"I just...I read about Michael Grosvenor today," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "It said that he was found dead by the docks," you told him and Tommy simply nodded before running his fingers over your cheek. 

"I'm sorry to hear that," he then said, but there was no emotion in his voice. It was as if he were discussing the weather instead of a man's untimely death.

"Me too. He was a nice man," you replied, your voice distant as you tried to keep your emotions in check. You pulled back from Thomas and looked up at him, your eyes searching for any hint of what he might be feeling.

Thomas looked down at you, his expression unreadable. There was a moment of silence between you as you both waited for the other to say something. Finally, Thomas spoke up.

"I missed you today , Love," Thomas' voice was low and husky, his eyes darkening with desire a he ought to change the topic. 

"I missed you too, Tommy," you whispered, your voice trembling. You knew better than to bring Michael's name up again , knowing full well how jealous Thomas could become. So, you pushed the thought out of your mind and focused on the present moment with your husband.

Thomas' hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer as he pressed a kiss to your neck. "I'm glad," Thomas replied, his lips brushing against your skin in a way that sent shivers down your spine. "Because I had a really long day today and all I want to do right now is fuck my wife." 

"Tommy, stop," you gasped. "I have dinner in the oven," you protested, your voice weak as he trailed kisses down your neck. "It's almost ready."

But Thomas didn't seem to care about dinner. His hands were already undoing the buttons of your blouse, his fingers deft and quick as he exposed your bare skin.

"Fuck dinner, eh," Thomas growled, his mouth finding the curve of your breast as he tugged your blouse off and let it fall to the floor.  "I need you. Right fucking now."

You gasped as he took your nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak until you were writhing against him, desperate for more. He reached down between your legs, tearing your panties aside as he stroked your wet folds with his fingers.

"You're so fucking wet for me," Thomas murmured, his voice dripping with desire as he pressed a finger inside of you. "Always so ready for me."

You moaned softly, your hips bucking upward as he added a second finger, stretching you in the most delicious way. He rubbed his thumb over your clit, making you gasp as pleasure shot through your body.

"Thomas," you breathed, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you held on for dear life. 

"Bend over my desk ," Thomas growled, his eyes blazing with a raw, primal hunger.

Your legs trembled as you obeyed his commands, turning around and bending over.

"Perfect," Thomas growled, his hands moving to your hips as he positioned himself behind you and unbuckled his belt.

He then unzipped his pants, pulled them down with his boxers and pushed aside your panties. 

You gasped as you felt him press the tip of his cock against your entrance, teasing you with what was to come.

Thomas' grip on your hips tightened as he thrust inside of you with one swift motion. You cried out at the sudden invasion, your walls stretching around him as he buried himself deep within you.

Thomas set a relentless pace, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass echoing through the room as he moved in and out of you.

"You feel so fucking good," Thomas grunted, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he powered into you. "So tight and warm around my cock."

You moaned as he hit your sweet spot, your walls clenching around him as pleasure spiked through your body.

"Fuck, Y/N, you're going to make me cum like this," Thomas growled, his thrusts becoming erratic.

You could tell he was close, but you weren't quite there yet. You needed something more...something extra to push you over the edge.

As if reading your mind, Thomas reached around and pressed his thumb against your clit. You moaned as he strummed the sensitive bundle of nerves, each stroke sending lances of sensation straight to your core.

"Yes, just like that," you whimpered, your voice barely above a whisper. "Please don't stop."

Thomas grunted in response, his hips moving faster as he fucked you harder. You could feel yourself getting close, the familiar heat coiling low in your belly. It wouldn't be long now...until suddenly it hit you.  Your orgasm tore through your body like a tidal wave, leaving you trembling with pleasure.

"Fuck, Love..." he groaned. "Please let me come inside you," Thomas' voice was husky and raw with desire.

"No, you can't cum inside me," you said, your own voice breathless with pleasure.

"Please Y/N. Let me fill you up. Let me claim you as mine in every possible way," Thomas pleaded, his voice hoarse with desire, as he continued to pump in and out of your slick heat.

You bit your lip, unsure what to do. Part of you wanted to let him, wanted to feel him cum inside of you, but there was another part of you that knew it was a terrible idea.

"I can't Tommy. I am not ready," you moaned, your hips bucking as he grazed your g-spot with each thrust. Falling pregnant wasn't an option for you, not yet at least and Tommy knew that all too well. 

Groaning in frustration, he pulled out of you at the last possible second, spilling his seed upon your lower back in hot, white streams. The combination of your orgasm and his release left him feeling weak at the knees, but he still managed to reach for his handkerchief and clean you up.

You watched him as he worked, your chest heaving with exertion and pleasure. Your muscles felt like jelly and you could barely muster up enough energy to stand on your own two feet.

Thomas helped you straighten up and pulled up your panties before he righted his own clothing and fastened his belt.

He turned you around and pulled you into an embrace. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he placed a soft kiss on your lips.

"I'm sorry, Love," Thomas whispered, his voice low and rough. "I couldn't help myself. I had to ask." 

You smiled up at him, your fingertips tracing the line of his jaw. "It's okay Tommy," you replied softly.  "One day soon, I'll be ready."

Thomas nodded, his chin resting on top of your head as he held you close. He didn't want to pressure you, but the thought of filling you up with his seed, marking you as his own in the most primal way possible, was driving him wild with desire. 

"I know, Love," Thomas murmured. "You are still young."  Thomas said, his voice barely above a whisper against your ear as he held you close. "And sometimes I seem to forget that," your husband added, a hint of regret in his tone.

Thomas' hands trailed down your body, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. He pulled back from you just enough to look into your eyes.

"You know I love you, right?" Thomas asked, his voice soft and sincere and, of course, you nodded.

"I love you too, Tommy," you replied, your voice just as sincere.

You believed in the truth of those words with every fiber of your being. You loved Thomas Shelby more than anything or anyone in this world and he knew it. But what he didn't know is that there were times when you felt like something was missing between the two of you. Something fundamental that should hold a marriage together but seemed to be absent in yours. You couldn't put your finger on it and that was probably why you never brought it up.  It wasn't anything tangible, just a feeling that lingered in the pit of your stomach. It only made itself known when Thomas was away on business and even then, it wasn't always present.

There was something about him and his life you did not know or understand, but you were too afraid to ask.

And even if you did ask, Thomas would never tell you.

It was one of those things that people kept to themselves.

One of those taboos only whispered about behind closed doors.

There were many rumors, but you never gave them much thought, always writing them off as malicious gossip meant to bring down a great man.

But still, the feeling remained and you couldn't shake it off no matter how hard you tried.

There was a darkness within him that you had only caught glimpses of, but it made you wonder what truly went on in his mind.

That night, after the intense love-making session and dinner, your husband had some more business matters to attend to and, again, you didn't question him.

"When will you be back?" you asked , your voice soft as you watched Thomas gather his things.

"I don't know, Love," Thomas replied, his expression apologetic. "I wish I could tell you more, but I can't. Not yet. It's just...it's complicated."

You nodded, understanding that this was part of the territory when you married a man like Thomas Shelby. You were used to the uncertainty by now, but that didn't mean it was easy. You swallowed past the lump in your throat and forced a smile on your face.

"It's okay, Tommy," you assured him. "I understand. I'll be here when you get back."

That was all you could do, really. Wait for him to return and hope that everything would be alright. Sometimes, the uncertainty was almost too much to bear, but you loved Thomas too much to let it come between you.

He leaned down and gave you a gentle kiss on the lips before heading out the door. You watched him leave, your heart heavy as you closed the door behind him.

The house felt empty without him, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of loneliness settling in. You walked around the house, touching the ornate furniture and fine artwork that filled the space, each piece a reflection of Thomas' wealth and power.

As you moved through the rooms, taking in the beauty of your surroundings, you couldn't help but feel a sense of disconnect from it all. The opulence and luxury were overwhelming, and you wondered if this was truly the life you wanted to live.

In the end, you retreated to your husband's office in the search for some good whiskey and a pen and paper.  You knew you wouldn't be able to sleep tonight, not until Thomas was home safe and sound. You poured yourself a generous glass of whiskey and settled down in the comfortable leather chair behind Thomas's desk.

The amber liquid burned pleasantly in your throat as you took a deep sip, warming your body as it coursed through your veins. Your eyes landed on the pen and paper that lay next to the decanter, and on a whim, you decided to write down your feelings, something you hadn't done in a long time.

It was a simple task, writing down your thoughts and emotions, but it felt good to get everything out of your system and onto the page. As you wrote, the words flowed freely from your mind to your hand and before long, you had filled up the entire page with ink.

As you read through what you had written, you felt a sense of relief wash over you. It was as if a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders, and you felt lighter than you had in a long time.

You continued to write for hours, pouring your heart and soul onto the page until there was nothing left to say.

When you got the last piece of paper however, you noticed something strange. There was a key hidden beneath the pile of  sheets. Frowning, you picked it up, turning it over between your fingers. It was small and made of brass, the keychain a simple ring with the letters 'BP' engraved into it.

Calling for one of the maids, you enquired about the key but even Frances did not know what it was meant to open.

You thanked her nonetheless before curiosity got the better of you , and you decided to embark on your own little investigation.

You started with doors, then cabinets, even trying it in some of the antique jewelry boxes belonging to Tommy's late first wife, Grace. 

But it seemed that the key was made for neither of those things.

As you made your way through the mansion, you continued to search for any possible place it could fit. It wasn't until you reached the cellar that you found the answer.

The cellar was dimly lit, with rows upon rows of wine bottles lining the walls. It felt like a completely different world compared to the luxurious and bright atmosphere of the mansion above and after looking around for a while, you came across an old desk in the corner of the cellar, cluttered with old papers and knick-knacks. It looked untouched for years, gathering dust and cobwebs.

You approached it, drawn to it for some reason. You ran your fingers over the dusty surface, feeling the history of the mansion seep into your skin.

Then you saw it - a large, old looking lockbox nestled in between two old books.

Your heart raced as you pulled out the brass key from your pocket and inserted it into the lock.

You held your breath as you turned the key, listening for the sound of the tumblers falling into place. With a soft click, the lock disengaged and you slowly lifted the lid, revealing the box's contents which comprised of sheets of paper and photographs.

You had not expected to find anything particularly interesting in the lockbox, but as you sifted through the contents, you discovered that the papers and photographs all related to you and the past life that you had lived.

There were photographs of you and the respective men you had been with in the past. There were employment records, family records and even health records . It was like staring into a mirror that reflected the life you had lived before Thomas Shelby came along, dating back to when you were much younger than you are now.

Then there were photographs and records for each of your past boyfriends too and if this wasn't enough already, accompanied with them were police reports relating to their deaths.  Everything was organized and compiled in a neat manner, almost like a journal, but the sheer gravity of it all left you feeling cold and numb.

Your parents and brother had a file as well , each bearing details of their lives and deaths and whilst it was clear that your parents had passed by accident, the disappearance of your brother and ex-lovers didn't seem to be such a random occurrence anymore.

Unbeknownst to you, all of them were dead . Vanished into thin air, or rather, killed and disposed of methodically.

You felt a chill run down your spine as you came across the stack of obituaries, the names and faces staring back at you, only further confirming what was once unthinkable.

"Oh my god!"  you gasped, your hands shaking as you dropped the obituaries and stumbled back, your heart pounding in your chest. "What is this? What does it mean?"

You knew the answer before the question even left your lips. The evidence was right in front of you, impossible to ignore.

Your now husband had been spying on you for a while , keeping a detailed record of your past relationships and ultimately ensuring that each one of those men met an untimely end so that he could claim you one day.

"No, it can't be," you whispered to yourself, your voice shaking with fear and confusion. 

But as you continued to sift through the contents of the lockbox, the truth became increasingly apparent. Thomas Shelby wasn't the man you thought he was. He was controlling, manipulative, and dangerous in ways you could never have imagined and when, eventually, you heard his voice ringing out from the top of the stairs, you couldn't help but feel your stomach drop.

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[fatecantstopme]

Better Together

Pairing: Rafael Barba x reader

Summary: Barba acts like he hates you because it's the only way he can keep his cool in your presence. Things come to a head and you call him out on it...

Warnings: cursing, Rafael is a bit of a dick at first. Use of nicknames (baby, cariño, querida, etc.). SMUT, oral (M and F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V)

A/N: Spanish translations in brackets/italics after each sentence.

cariño/querida: sweetheart/dear/darling/baby/etc.

por favor: please

qué: what

hermosa: beautiful/gorgeous

"Right...and what makes you qualified to make that determination?"

You glared at him. "Eight years of education and ten years of practice."

"Fine, but how long did you actually talk to him?" he countered.

"Four hours."

"So now you're an expert in his mental health?"

You groaned. "He belongs in a psychiatric facility, Barba. Not a prison."

"I disagree. He raped and murdered five women."

"I'm not defending his actions, but I'm telling you he's incapable of understanding the consequences of his actions."

"She's right, counselor," Olivia Benson cut in. "I got the same feeling she did when I first talked to him."

Rafael Barba let out an annoyed huff. "Fine. What do you propose?"

"Offer him a deal," she suggested. "Send him where he can get the help he needs."

Barba nodded, expression still slightly annoyed. "Fine." With that, he walked out of the precinct, presumably to go write up a deal.

As soon as he was out of ear shot, you turned to your friend and colleague. "He argues with me for ten minutes straight, but you tell him the same damn thing and he immediately agrees?"

Olivia shrugged. "You know how he is."

"Pompous, arrogant, rude, and downright insulting?"

She laughed. "All of the above, but he's also a pretty damn good ADA."

You sighed. "I would absolutely love to disagree with you, but you're not wrong. Part of me hates that he's so good at his job. And I hate his smug face and his attitude and those damn three piece suits he looks so goddamn good in," you finished your ramble with a groan.

"Maybe if you told him you thought he was hot, he'd be nicer to you," Olivia said with a wink.

"I hate you."

She laughed. "No you don't."

"Fine, I don't, but I will do no such thing. He quite clearly despises me."

"Does he?"

"Does who what?" Nick Amaro asked as he entered the squad room.

"Does Barba hate (Y/N)?" Olivia asked.

Nick chuckled. "Without a doubt."

"See?!" you said smugly.

Olivia rolled her eyes. "One of these days you're going to have to talk to him. Tell him off for being such an ass to you all the time."

"Now that I agree with," Nick cut in.

"If he pushes the right buttons, I will."

**********

Little did you know that two days later, Barba would push the exact right button.

Olivia, Nick, Amanda, Fin, and yourself were gathered in the squad room discussing your latest case. You had two dead girls in two days and 1PP was already breathing down your necks.

You were going over the profile with the team when Barba walked in. "I know it sounds crazy, guys, but I believe the perp is a girl...probably the same age as the victims."

"Why?" Fin asked.

As you started to explain your reasoning, to include the lack of sexual assault, the relationship between the two girls, and the anger clearly present in the attacks, Barba cut you off with a harsh laugh.

"You think a 10 year old girl is capable of inflicting that kind of trauma?" he interjected. "There's no way."

You took a deep breath in through your nose and exhaled from your mouth before responding. You needed those ten seconds to calm yourself so you didn't murder him. "Were you ever a 10 year old girl?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Obviously not."

"Are you a forensic psychologist?"

"Again, no."

"Have you been working violent sex crimes for 10 years?"

"No..."

"Then be quiet and listen," you finished harshly.

You'd never snapped at him quite so intensely before and he was taken aback. He was also very aware that he may have taken it a little too far this time. He'd made it a point to keep you at arm's length (or farther) for the past 6 months, and he was belatedly realizing he may have been too cruel.

You finished your profile, answering the questions posed by the rest of the squad, before everyone went about their assigned duties.

Barba announced he was going back to his office to update the DA and you were thankful to be rid of him.

"Maybe you were right, (Y/N)," Olivia said softly. "He either hates you or he hates shrinks."

"Likely both."

"I'm proud of you for clapping back," Amanda said warmly. "Someone's gotta put that guy in his place every once in a while."

You smiled mirthlessly. "Once this case is over, I may have more to say to him, but for now, let's focus on finding the person who killed those girls."

**********

Three days later and you had your suspect in custody. You'd been right in your assessment of the perp...it turned out to be a 10 year old girl who had been relentlessly teased and bullied by the two victims for an entire year. The girl finally snapped and killed them both in a blind rage.

After hearing all of the terrible things that had been done to her, you felt sorry for the girl. You understood why she'd killed those girls, even if you didn't condone it.

"Hey, (Y/N/N)," Fin called. "We're going out for drinks. My treat."

"I think I'll take a rain check guys...I've got something I need to do."

"Awww no fun," Amanda teased.

Olivia gave you a look, but you smiled at her reassuringly. She took it to mean you were okay, so she followed the others out.

You'd decided to pay a very special visit to a certain ADA...

You arrived at his office 20 minutes later, and you belatedly realized you probably should have checked to see if he was even there still. It was already after 6pm, but you hoped since he was a workaholic, he would be unaware of the late hour.

When you reached his office door, you found yourself taking a deep breath. You started to question yourself and whether this was a good idea, but then you thought about the way he'd been treating you and you got a burst of courage.

You knocked on his door and waited. You heard a slightly annoyed "Come in", so you opened the door and stepped into his office.

Barba looked up from the paperwork he was buried in, a look of surprise ghosting over his face. "Dr. (Y/L/N)...to what do I owe the pleasure?"

You shut the door behind you and took a step towards his desk. "Do you have a problem with me?"

"Excuse me?" he asked in surprise.

"Do you have a problem with me, specifically, or is it psychologists in general?"

"I don't have a problem with psychologists."

"So it's me, got it. Do you mind telling me what the hell I did to you?"

He had the grace to look sheepish. "You didn't do anything to me."

"Then why do you treat me like I'm some sort of imbecile?"

"I...I never intended to make you feel that way," he said honestly.

"Really? How did you intend to make me feel? You belittle me, insult my abilities and my intelligence, you're unnecessarily rude to me in front of my colleagues..." you trailed off.

He rose from his seat and came around the front of his desk. His expression was unreadable, but his shoulders had slumped slightly. If you didn't know better, you'd think he actually felt bad for the way he'd been treating you.

"You're right," he admitted. "I have treated you entirely unfairly."

It was your turn to look surprised. Out of all the things you'd expected him to say, an admission of guilt was certainly not one of them.

"I don't want you to think, for even a moment, that I don't think you're brilliant. You are the sharpest woman I have ever had the pleasure of meeting and you're downright phenomenal at your job."

You opened your mouth and closed it a few times before you could formulate a coherent response. "How in the hell was I supposed to know that?"

He blushed and cast his gaze to the floor. "I suppose there was no way for you to know, given the way I've treated you."

"Why, then?" you asked softly.

He sighed deeply and ran his hand over his face. "It's--complicated."

"Enlighten me, Barba. I've got time."

His green eyes raised back up to meet yours and you found yourself nearly breathless--and not for the first time. His eyes were beautiful, typically sparkling with whit and mischief; but in this moment, they shone with emotions so complex you couldn't begin to comprehend them.

"I never intended to be cruel to you, only distant. But I found that being aloof wasn't enough to keep you at bay--I needed something stronger. So...I started treating you as if I hated you. It was just easier, and perhaps safer."

"Safer?"

He nodded, but neglected to clarify. "Keeping you out of my life has become a necessity, Dr. (Y/L/N)."

His formality annoyed you, but you didn't comment on it. "Then why didn't you just tell me you didn't like me?"

He groaned and turned back to his desk to pour himself a glass of scotch. "Because it's not true, and I'm many things, but a liar isn't one of them."

"Okay, but you want nothing to do with me?"

"Exactly."

"You do understand how contradictory that sounds, correct?"

He took a long drink from his glass and leaned back against his desk. "It sounds moronic, yes, I am aware."

You debated your next words with care. You knew if you said what was on your mind, you might regret it, but you also knew if you didn't say it, you would regret it.

"When I met you, I was instantly intrigued by you," you began. "It was obvious you were highly intelligent, but you were also funny, charming, and impeccably well-dressed. It's a rare combination."

You crossed your arms and sighed. "At first, you were friendly and I quite liked you, but things between us turned icy in an instant. I didn't understand it then and I don't understand it now, but what I can tell you is it hurt me. It hurt me deeply, Barba, and it still does."

If he'd felt like an ass before, he felt 1,000 times worse now. "I never intended to hurt you," he said quietly. "You're a kind and loving soul...and you don't deserve to be treated the way I've been treating you."

"You're right," you whispered. "I don't."

He winced slightly and downed the rest of his scotch. "I am truly sorry, (Y/N). More than you'll ever know."

His use of your first name was not lost on you. You could count on one hand the number of times he'd said it and you'd reacted the same way each time. Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment, your breath caught, and your heart began to speed up.

Rafael had never noticed before...had never really paid attention to you the very few times he'd said your name, but he saw your reaction this time. For the first time since he'd met you, he began to wonder if you shared his feelings...

You quickly recovered yourself--praying he hadn't noticed. "I appreciate your apology." Your voice was slightly off pitch and you wanted to kick yourself for letting any emotion show.

"May I ask you something?" he said suddenly.

You nodded, not trusting your voice in the moment.

"You said what you thought of me when we first met--what do you think of me now?"

"Do you really want to know?"

He nodded.

You swallowed thickly. "Everything I said is true. You're a brilliant man and an even better lawyer...and you can be funny and charming, when you want to be. But that's not the Rafael Barba I get. I get the one reserved for the criminals and defense attorneys you dislike. The ones that make your skin crawl. You're pompous, arrogant, and cruel."

He closed his eyes tightly. Hearing you say what you really thought of him was much more painful than he'd anticipated.

"But I don't believe that's who you really are," you said so softly he almost didn't hear.

He looked back up at you in surprise.

"I think it's a facade you put up--a mask you wear to hide behind."

"What makes you think that?"

"Call it intuition, or perhaps training," you said with a shrug. "Either way, I am certain you really are the man I met in the beginning--not the man you've been the past several months."

"How could you have that much faith in me? After the way I've treated you..."

"Perhaps it's foolish...or maybe I just want it to be true."

He stared at you with a strange look on his face. It was as if he was trying to decide if you were playing him or being sincere. His expression slowly morphed as he realized you'd meant every word you'd said.

"May I be honest with you?" he asked.

"I want nothing less."

"Truthfully, I'm terrified of you. Absolutely, 100%, completely terrified."

Your jaw dropped slightly. Once again, he’d caught you off guard.

"You got under my skin the moment I met you and I haven't been able to get rid of you since. I've never felt like this--like I can't control my own actions or my emotions--and it's petrifying. I thought pushing you away would change how I felt, but it only intensified it. I think that's why I became crueler over time--I was angry at myself and angry with you for making me feel this way. It's not fair to you, I know, but it's the truth."

You were once again shocked to the core. You almost couldn't believe what you were hearing...if you weren't so good at reading people, you'd be convinced he was lying, but as it stood, you knew it was the raw, painful truth.

"You can't control everything, you know," you said quietly.

He laughed harshly. "God, how I wish I could."

"What are you so afraid of?"

He took a moment to answer, but once he did, the words poured out of him. "I'm afraid the way I feel about you will ruin both of our careers. I'm afraid that once you see the man behind the mask, you'll run and leave me broken. I'm afraid that we'll fall apart...that we won't stand the test of time. I'm afraid of falling so deeply in love with you that I lose myself completely. But most of all, I'm afraid that I've already screwed this up beyond repair."

For all your education and all the eloquent words you've learned in your lifetime, you found yourself stunned into complete and utter silence. No words came to mind, no coherent thoughts emerged. You stared at him and he stared at you, as the silence dragged on.

After what had to be an eternity, Rafael spoke again. "Please say something. Anything. Tell me you hate me. Tell me you never want to see my face again. Tell me you'd rather jump off a building than be with me--"

"Stop!" The intensity of your demand silenced him. "Just stop talking…I…I can't find the words I want to say, but I do know one thing: I'm not afraid."

Out of all the things you could have said, all the beautiful sentences you could have strung together, those three words were the perfect response. Fueled with sudden courage, Rafael crossed the space between the two of you in three long strides, coming to a stop a few inches from you.

With a shaking hand, he gently stroked your cheek. "May I?" he asked quietly.

Your pretty (y/e/c) eyes met his and you softly begged, "Please."

He leaned into you, lips pressing against yours with soft insistence. The kiss ignited something within you--a desire so deep and powerful it almost frightened you. You grabbed ahold of his suspenders and tugged his body closer to yours as you deepened the kiss.

Rafael moaned softly against your lips, tongue pressing forward, requesting access. You obliged, lips parting to allow him entry. His hands traveled down your soft curves until they landed on your hips. He used his gentle strength to pull you flush against him, his own body backed up against his desk to support him.

You could feel his need for you in his kiss, in his touch...and in his pants. His growing erection was pressed against you, so close to where you wanted him, yet so far away.

Rafael broke the kiss for a moment. "Carmen left for the day."

"Mhmm," you hummed in response.

"But I don't want our first time together to be on the couch in my office."

"How 'bout the desk?" you teased lightly.

He groaned. "Don't think I haven't imagined it, but I'd like to take you home...do this properly--in a bed."

You stared at him for a moment. "If we stay here, it can be casual, unassuming. If I go home with you...that changes everything."

"I don't want casual. I don't want a fling. I want you--and everything that comes along with that."

You studied him closely before responding. You noted the sincerity in his voice and his expression and decided to--for once--allow your heart to lead your decision. "Take me home, Rafael," you whispered.

He breathed deeply, as if trying to control himself. It appeared that you had the same effect on him as he did on you when you called him by his first name.

He didn't say a word--you weren't even sure he could have if he'd wanted to. He simply grabbed his jacket, took your hand, and practically dragged you to the elevator. Once outside, he hailed a cab and helped you into the backseat before sliding in beside you.

As the cab began to move, you rested your hand on Rafael's thigh. He glanced at you, but didn't say anything. You were feeling bold, so you slid your hand slowly up his thigh, inching closer to his evident arousal.

When your fingertips brushed against his clothed cock, he hissed slightly. He leaned over to whisper into your ear so the cab driver wouldn't hear. "Careful, querida. O puedo perder el control [Or I may lose control]."

You inhaled sharply--something about his tone mixed with the hushed Spanish words, sent a jolt of pure arousal straight to your core.

Your reaction didn't go unnoticed by Rafael. He smirked as he discovered one of your kinks. He tucked the knowledge away for later use.

You managed to behave yourself for the rest of the short ride to his apartment, but once inside the building, all bets were off.

His lips were on yours the moment the elevator doors slid closed, pressing your body firmly against the wall. Your fingers tangled in his hair, messing up the perfect locks.

As the elevator dinged and the doors began to open, you reluctantly pulled away from each other. You saw the desperation in his beautiful green eyes and you knew the same look reflected in yours.

He wasted no time guiding you to his apartment and the moment you were both inside, he had you spun around and pressed up against the door.

“Querida,” he whispered hungrily against your lips, fingertips dancing under your shirt.

You moaned softly as you tugged harshly on his suspenders, pushing them out of the way so you could remove his shirt.

Within moments, your clothes and his were strewn across the house as he carried you to his bedroom, nothing left between you but underwear.

Rafael tossed you gently onto the bed before climbing on top of you. He eyed you hungrily—sprawled out beneath him, desire evident on your face.

“You are perfect, hermosa.”

You blushed. “Rafa…”

He groaned. “Fuck. Don’t do that.”

Confusion clouded your expression. You didn’t think you’d done anything wrong…

He’d closed his eyes and his face gave away the internal struggle he was experiencing.

Realization suddenly crossed your features and you grinned. You gently raked your nails down his chest as you murmured the nickname again, “Rafa.”

His eyes shot open and he rutted his hips against yours, mouth pressing wet kisses to your heated skin. His teeth nipped at your neck and collarbone, leaving love bites in his wake.

He was taking his time with you. Wanting to explore every part of you, taste every inch of your skin, catalogue every detail in his mind.

You whimpered softly, not used to such attention, nor such deliberate slowness. “Rafael, please.”

He looked up at you with his trademark smirk. “You ever been with a Hispanic man before, Cariño?”

You blushed and shook your head.

His smirk widened. “We like to take our time, make sure our lady is properly loved and appreciated. This is about your enjoyment, (Y/N/N), not mine.”

“I want you to enjoy yourself too…”

He kissed you gently. “You keep making those pretty sounds for me, querida, and I promise you, I’ll enjoy myself.”

You found yourself unable to respond as he continued his slow descent towards your core. Each gentle caress of his lips against your skin seemed to set your nerve endings on fire--the need within you growing exponentially.

You whined prettily, hips shifting upwards, desperately seeking his lips where you needed them most. "Please," you begged.

You didn't know it yet, but Rafael would never deny you--not in the real world, nor the bedroom. The moment he heard your soft voice begging, he glanced up at your face. You already looked so far gone--your hair was a mess, your lips swollen, your cheeks flushed, and your breathing was ragged. He smiled to himself as he lowered his head, giving you no time to adjust as he dove into you with abandon.

You gasped as the pleasure threatened to overwhelm you. As skilled as the man between your legs was in the courtroom, he was even better suited with his mouth hungrily devouring you.

In the span of mere minutes, he'd turned you into a gasping, moaning mess--every one of your senses overwhelmed with feeling.

"Rafa--I--I'm close," you gasped.

He hummed against you, lips wrapping around your clit to increase his assault. His fingers dug into the flesh of your hips, holding you in place as he sped up his ministrations.

Your jaw dropped as a flurry of sounds--some of which were intended to be his name--slipped from your lips. Your orgasm sent wave after wave of intense pleasure through your body, but that pleasure soon turned to sensitivity.

"Rafa, too much--" you whispered as you tried to pull away from him.

He laid his arm across your lower belly, effectively holding you in place as his mouth continued to work you. His eyes flicked up to yours to check if you really did want him to stop, but your head was already thrown back, chest rising and falling rapidly as the familiar knot tightened in your stomach.

The moment your cries turned to moans and pleas to continue, Rafael stopped and lifted his head. "Did you want me to stop, querida?"

"No!" you cried loudly, fingers grasping his hair in an attempt to guide him back where you wanted him.

He smirked as he complied with your direction, lips and tongue once again sending you into a spiral of pleasure you'd never experienced before.

As you came down from your second high, Rafael finally slowed his assault and allowed you to pull his head up when it became too much.

He placed soft kisses against your heated skin, gently soothing you as the aftershocks shuddered through your body. His lips traced the curves of your face with gentle affection until your breathing had begun to normalize.

Rafael kissed you deeply, desire evident in the action. In response, your hand slowly descended down his chest and abdomen, until you reached his throbbing cock. You lightly ran your nails across the still clothed member, enticing a groan from the man above you.

You teased him for a few more seconds before sliding your hand beneath his boxer briefs and palming his cock in your warm hand. He groaned loudly--hips rutting against your hand instantly.

"I wanna taste you," you murmured against the shell of his ear.

"You don't have to..." he said softly.

There was something in his voice that caused you to pull away so you could see his face properly. He looked worried and perhaps a little apprehensive.

"But I want to," you reassured him.

"You do?"

You nodded. "It's something I enjoy very much, Rafa, so if you're okay with it, I would really like to suck your cock."

His eyes closed briefly and he moaned softly, forehead dropping against yours. "Por favor," he begged in a broken voice.

You grinned ear to ear. "Stand up."

"Qué?" he asked in confusion.

You nudged him gently and tilted your head towards the edge of the bed. "Stand up, handsome."

He did as you asked and watched in surprise as you lowered yourself to your knees on the floor in front of him. He felt like he needed to remind you again that you didn't need to do this for him, but when he saw the hunger in your eyes, he fell silent.

You slowly dragged his underwear down, freeing his cock from its constraints. You were a little surprised by his size--he was longer than average and quite thick--but surprise quickly turned to hunger.

You looked up at him, a playful smirk dancing on your lips, and all his worries faded away. It was obvious you wanted this...perhaps just as much as he did.

You wasted no time in wrapping your mouth around his cock, taking as much of him into your mouth as you could, eyes never leaving his face.

You gagged slightly as he hit the back of your throat, but you pushed past it, determined to provide him with as much pleasure as you could muster.

As you began to move, his fingers intertwined in your hair and his hips stuttered forwards occasionally. You knew what he needed, but it was clear he wasn't going to do it without some prodding.

You pulled off of him with a *pop* and waited until his heavily lidded eyes met yours. "Rafael, I want you to enjoy this."

"I am, cariño," he said in confusion.

"Not as much as you could be." You licked the tip of his cock for emphasis and his hips jumped slightly. "I want you to use my mouth for your own pleasure, Rafa. That's what it's there for."

He shook his head rapidly. He'd been expressly told not to do that by several women before you.

You rubbed his thighs reassuringly. "I want this, baby. Please," you begged. "Please fuck my mouth."

The moment the words were out of your mouth, you sucked his cock back into the warmth of your lips, hoping he would take you seriously. You pressed yourself forward, pushing past the gag reflex to take his entire member into your mouth.

Without hesitation, you began to guide his hips, urging him to give in and take what he wanted--what he needed.

You flicked your gaze up to meet his and nodded your head as best you could, hands still encouraging him to move. He very tentatively began to move his hips and you smiled, fingers digging into his thighs.

When you didn't pull away, he started to put a little more force into the movements. When you still didn't pull away, he sped up, fingers wrapping in your hair to keep you still.

You let him take control, eyes still trained on his face. He slowly began to thrust in earnest, fucking your mouth like it was his favorite place to be. You watched his head fall back, moans of intense pleasure leaving his lips.

You held onto him and focused on breathing as you let him use you. A few minutes passed before his hips began to stutter and you knew he was close.

You prepared to swallow everything he had to give you, but he surprised you by pulling away, your mouth coming off of him with a *pop*.

His breathing was ragged and his eyes were wild--pupils blocking out the brilliant green. "I need you," he said, voice raw and husky.

You understood his meaning and quickly crawled back onto the bed. He was on top of you almost immediately, lips latching onto your neck, teeth nipping at your flesh.

His cock rubbed against the outside of your pussy and you both groaned.

"Fuck," he mumbled. "Do I need a condom?"

"Pill," you gasped as you shook your head. "Wanna feel you fill me up, Rafa."

He let out a low growl and his eyes turned even more feral. He gave you no warning as he plunged his cock deep inside of you, stretching you in ways you'd never been stretched before.

"Rafael!" you cried out at the sensation.

Normally he would have forced himself to give you time to adjust, but his mind was too far gone. He set a brutal pace almost instantly and you were simply along for the ride.

There were so many new sensations that you were having a hard time staying focused. Everything just felt so incredible.

Your pussy throbbed around him, pulling him in even deeper. "Te sienetes muy bien, querida." [You feel so good, sweetheart.]

You moaned loudly, nails digging into his back as you arched against him.

"Te gusta cuando te hablo español, ¿no?" he growled into your ear. [You like it when I speak Spanish to you, don't you?"]

"Yes!" you gasped.

"Chica sucia," he chuckled darkly. [Dirty girl.]

"Rafa, please--I'm so close."

He groaned. "Quiero que vengas conmigo, cariño," he mumbled. [I want you to cum with me, sweetheart.] "Can you do that for me?" he asked in English.

You nodded your head rapidly.

"Esa es mi buena chica," he praised. [That's my good girl.]

You moaned lowly, preening at his praise. He smiled and picked up his pace, not wanting to stop until he felt you fall apart. "So close," he mumbled.

"Don't--stop!"

He knew you were close--could tell by the way your pussy fluttered around him--so he whispered, "Cum for me, baby."

You cried out as your orgasm hit you with more force than either of the two you'd had earlier. Rafael groaned your name as he spilled his seed within you, filling you up as your walls milked him dry.

You both began to come down from your highs, the intensity of your orgasms taking the wind out of both of you. Rafael pulled out and collapsed beside you, completely spent and satiated.

"That was pretty decent," you said between breaths.

He snapped his head in your direction and started to laugh when he saw the mischief in your eyes.

You grinned and joined in on his laughter, allowing him to wrap his arms around you and pull you closer to him.

"Very decent," he muttered against your hair.

You laughed again. "'Fucking incredible' would be a more accurate description."

"I couldn't agree more." He sighed softly. "I don't wanna move."

"Who says we have to?"

"We probably should...we do have work in the morning after all."

Your body tensed slightly and he felt it, realizing how his previous statement may have sounded. "I want you to stay, querida. I'm just saying we should probably get up and shower before we fall asleep."

You relaxed. "You may have to carry me."

He chuckled and dragged himself out of bed, pulling you along with him. He scooped you up despite your protests and carried you to the bathroom, placing you on the counter while he started the shower.

"I was kidding, Rafa!"

He smiled. "If my girl can walk immediately after sex, then I did something wrong. I'm always happy to carry you."

You smiled back at him, realizing he was completely serious. You watched him quietly, completely lost in thought.

"Where's your mind, querida?" he asked softly.

You shook your head, clearing your thoughts. "I'm happy...that's all."

Rafael kissed you gently. "Me too, hermosa. Now come on, let's get you cleaned up."

Once you were both clean and dry, he carried you back to his bed and laid you down gently before crawling into the bed beside you. He tugged you in closely against his chest and you sighed contentedly.

"Go to sleep, cariño. I'll be here in the morning when you wake up."

Somehow he seemed to know exactly what you needed to hear. Knowing he wasn't going anywhere and feeling his strong arms wrapped around you, allowed you to feel a calm peace you'd not felt in years.

Within minutes, you'd drifted off to sleep in his arms. Just before he fell asleep too, Rafael kissed the top of your head and whispered, "Te adoro con locura." [I adore you madly.]