#oops assignment help

[stargirl230]

Happy summer! I finally got around to organizing the spots i drew for the Poképlanner Project last year 🌞

Each page is based on one of the five Alola islands - special thanks to my irl friend who’s super knowledgeable about pokémon and let me pick her brain :)

(no reposts; reblogs appreciated)

[sundial-bee-scribbles]

🖤🩶🤍💜

[mamawasatesttube]

every now and then i think about going back through robin '93 to compile a list of every single instance of tim saying "eep" and "oop". i haven't done it yet i have so much else to do with my time but every day im tempted

[transwalterdecourcey]

live election coverage + lo-fi beats to study and relax to + typing sounds asmr. surely this is the optimal tab setup to be getting my homework done

[cpyclopse]

I like to make my favorite guy kiss everyone Link x everyone in Skyward Sword

Og art prompt by @Soupery -> @ taffybuns

[My art]

[hazellight11]

I have an exam this morning (9:30) that I haven't studied for at all because instead of giving us a study guide or a list of topics, the professor told us (two days before the exam) to ask chatgpt for study problems (fuck chatgpt all the homies hate chatgpt)

[mejaemin]

met baby - choi seungcheol

(18+) mdni !!! wc: 1.6k summary: s.coups, your rapper bf, surprises you with his appearance at the met warnings: celeb!reader, scoups is a solo rapper and NOT an idol, bathroom stuff, light daddy kink, fingering, mentions of the iconic bathroom pics + my king asap rocky, not proofread an: this look is driving me fucking crazy. congrats to my baby, i’m so proud of u !! now get in my bed.

he didn’t tell you he’d be here. you hop out of the car, manager fixing your dress, and there’s plenty of cameras that capture your absolutely shell shocked expression at the sight of your boyfriend, rapper choi seungcheol, posing for the carpet.

you genuinely have to be snapped out of it, brought back to life from your trance, to stop you from holding up the line and get your own photos taken. even as they make you spin, pose and turn every which way, behind your golden smile, the only thing on your mind is choi seungcheol.

he looks beautiful, silver hair (which you also had the pleasure of being uninformed of) matching his dusty blue-grayish suit. it’s paired with a dark, robe-like outer piece, and he looks both like the business man of your dreams and a character from a sci-fi movie. he fits the theme perfectly, and you’re so grateful for that because, as someone who’s attended multiple times, you’ve expressed your distaste for people not following the theme multiple times. he definitely understood the assignment, and when he steps off the carpet, making room for you, there’s a smirk on his face that you so wish you could wipe off.

you’re seated in different areas, of course, but you made sure your chair was in a spot where he’d stay in your line of sight. being such a talented, expensive girl has its perks, especially when it comes to your connections with the co-chairs. speaking of, you’re supposed to be in conversation with one of them, but your dismissive responses tell him enough. once all the attendees have settled in, everyone was introduced and finally allowed to mingle. your seatmates shoo you away, and you couldn’t complain as you make your way to him.

he immediately stops his conversations with other people, turning to you with a smirk. “surprise, baby.” you’re already on heels that scream ankle problems, so it’s easy to lean forward and plant your lips on his. he’s eager to welcome it, hands on your waist as he leans in further.

“this is so unfair, seungcheol. you saw the whole process of my look, and i get to have my heart attack live streamed because you hid all this from me?” you have to keep yourself from yelling, completely forgetting where you’re at as you look at him, up close. even his face is perfect, from his eyebrows to his flawless skin, all the way to his lips that pop out with his new hair.

“oops?” he laughs, and you shake your head. he’s so calm, collected as he converses with the other celebrities in the vicinity. he even manages to exchange contacts with some of them, landing collabs and features. he looks so hot like this, holding you on his arm like you’re the newcomer while he makes flawless conversation with people you’ve known for years. you’re conscious enough to greet them, making small conversation with those that you’re closer with. still, you can’t be bothered, and your fingers get antsier against his belt loop the closer you get to the bathroom.

you’re right there, and with your incessant tugging at his overly long cape-like blazer, you know he gets the message. he’s given you that calm down look at least a hundred times, thick eyebrow raising with darkened eyes, but he’s only making it worse. he helps make your way there, and before you even fully step in the door, your hands are all over him, feeling him up over his clothes, hands starvingly gripping at his half hardness in his slacks.

he picks you up, large hands gripping your hips as he sets you down on the marble counter. his lips are on yours like a magnet, moving with a desperation that really emulates the feeling of reuniting after weeks of fittings and shoots. he’s so cool, composed, but you know the time apart’s been torturous for him, if the voice messages he’s left you in response to the photos you’ve sent during fittings said anything.

“you just can’t wait, now can you?” his voice is husky, rumbling against you as he very gently bites at your neck.

you slide his outerwear off his shoulders, pulling him closer to you by the waistband on his pants. with the slit in your dress, you push all the fabric to the side so your legs can move freely, wrapping around him to keep him close. “cheollie, it’s been weeks.. i need you so bad, right now…” you whine, pushing your hands under his clothes to feel his bare skin. it eases the buzzing in your veins, changing it to pure desire that floods your underwear as your fingers glide over the hair under his belly button.

“we don’t have much time in here..” he runs his hand through his hair, cursing when he remembers where he’s at, looking in the mirror to put it back. his sleeve falls a little, and the glint of his watch catches your eye. so expensive, so him, it makes him all the more attractive. “i’ll help you, baby, we gotta be quick, okay? that sound good?” he asks, one hand sliding up your leg as he leans down to kiss you.

you nod, “please, cheollie, i need it..” your voice is tiny, soft, and you give him the sweetest look ever to help sway him. he only looks down at you, fingers teasing your waistband, eyebrow raised expectantly. you whine, “please, daddy… i’ll take anything you give me, jus’ can’t wait anymore..”

he chuckles lowly. “thank you, princess, for asking so nicely..”

his head dips down to the crook of your neck, leaving soft kisses all over your skin and a trail of cherry red lip stain. he pulls up his sleeves, revealing his toned forearms, and you can’t see much with his body in the way, but the cool metal gliding against your thigh makes them twitch.

he pulls your underwear to the side, a shaky sigh of his own sounding when he comes in contact with your heat. you’re dripping, you have been since you got here. it’s so tempting to get down on his knees and taste you, he wants to so bad, but someone would definitely notice if the lower half of his makeup had been wiped off.

“you’re so wet, baby.. you like the look that much?” he asks, teasing, thumb rubbing over your clit. even the gentlest touch has your head spinning, the little mhm you respond to him with sounding extra desperate.

seungcheol’s fingers push into you, watch band jingling as he gently thrusts them into you. the glint of all the rocks embedded in it shine under the dim lights. it’s so pretty, and the way your slick spills onto your thighs and spreads onto the piece makes his pants all the tighter. same with his rings, ones he didn’t bother taking off before touching you.. they’re cold as they touch your skin, pushing against your entrance with every curl of his fingers. another addition to his expensive look, so pretty and dirtied by your arousal.

your body is burning, so overwhelmed by seungcheol’s intoxicating scent, his oh so enticing jewelry, and the way he works you open like it’s nothing. you’re quivering, biting into your fist to keep quiet, rolling your hips into his hand, clit rubbing against the heel of his palm.

“so good, cheollie, gonna cum soon..” you whimper, holding his thick forearm in your hands.

he kisses your temple, so sweet and tender compared to his vigorous, vulgar movements between your legs. he knows what he’s doing, pouting and cooing at you as if your legs aren’t quivering against his sides.

“i know baby, i can feel it. you can let go, i’ve got you.” he kisses you, nice and deep against your lips, tongue dipping into your mouth and swallowing all the noises that try to escape.

the sounds filling the bathroom are so vulgar, the squelching of your boyfriend’s fingers inside you, blending with your lips smacking and the little moans that slip out. it’s so hot, and the coil in your lower half is impossibly tight. you know seungcheol is just as into it, his gaze locked onto your entrance and all the pretty gems on his wrist shining as he fingers you. his cock is throbbing, pushing against his pants, leaving very little to your imagination.

“cum, baby, we have to go back out soon.. don’t wanna get in trouble..” he whispers, teeth pulling at your earlobe, and his deep voice teasing your eardrums is all it takes for you to break.

your back arches, face scrunched in a silent scream as you’re pushed over the edge. seungcheol’s fingers are stuck, your walls squeezing him impossibly tight, free hand rubbing your clit to help you ride out your orgasm. he hums, licking his lips at the sight, hovering over you as you come down.

slowly, he pulls his fingers out, observing your mess before pressing them into your mouth. he mumbles something about the price of his rings, and your tongue swirls over them to clean them up as best you can. once done, he straightens you up and helps you off the counter.

it’s seemingly perfect timing, because nearly half the guests are suddenly rushing in. you smile, hiding your face in his shoulder when one of your friends raises an eyebrow at you. it’s then that you remember to relay to your boyfriend that it’s time for the annual bathroom photo, one everyone squeezes into when you’re not really even allowed to take it. you and him are in the front, and you stand in front of seungcheol to hide his boner before the camera clicks. his hands are on your waist, and after the photo is sent to you later in the night, you can observe it a little further. you’re both so beautiful, all flushed and serving the most gorgeous face, but also so unbelievably fucked if that photo ever gets posted.

svt 🏷️ @coquettejunnie @prettymoles

[hotchnersgirll]

let me love you — a. hotchner

summary: it takes you almost kissing someone else for him to realise just how much he cares

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!reader

warnings: angst, tension, angry kisses, jealous!hotch, he's so hot, did i mention tension? bcs there's so much tension tension tension, a few swears, her bag sort of disappears.. oops

word count: 5.2k (oops x2)

Aaron doesn’t even look at you anymore.

Okay, that’s not true — he does. When he has to. When there’s a case file in his hands and you’re just another member of the team he needs to brief — another agent he’s in charge of. When there’s a question about geographical profiling or victimology and you’re the one who can answer it. When he’s assigning roles and has to say your name.

But everything outside of that? Nothing. Cold silence. Controlled distance.

And it killed you.

You wouldn’t even know you kissed him. More than once. Wouldn’t know how his hands felt in your hair, or how he’d said your name like it physically hurt him. Wouldn’t know that there was a moment — no, a string of moments — where he looked at you like you were the only thing grounding him to earth.

Because now? Now he’s pretending none of it ever happened.

And the worst part?

You know he still wants you.

Not in the arrogant way. Not in the I’m-so-irresistible kind of way. No — you know it because you see it. In the way his eyes flicker to you when he thinks you’re not paying attention. In the way his jaw ticks when Morgan jokes too casually with you. In the way he goes quiet when your laugh cuts across the room — his lips pressing into a thin line while his body tenses, almost like he’s trying to stop himself from laughing along.

He wants you. And he’s made that clear before.

But he’s also your boss. Older. Emotionally constipated. A man who shuts people out just before they get too close.

So of course, he made the decision for both of you. Of course, he pulled away, said it wasn’t appropriate, said you needed to keep it professional. Of course, he slammed that wall up between you and iced you out like he didn’t miss you the moment he left.

And now? Now you’re in Florida. The local PD is stretched thin, there’s a suspected spree killer hitting tourist-heavy areas along the I-4 corridor, and you’re operating out of some small, humid precinct where the AC rattles and no one knows how to use a case board.

Hotch pairs you with Officer Pretty Smile — an actual cop, around your age, golden tan, charming, full of casual grins and easy compliments. You don’t even hear most of what Hotch says when he assigns you; you’re too busy fuming at the fact that he’s done it again.

Just like the last two cases, he pairs you with some random officer, keeps you away from the scene, away from the precinct, away from anywhere he might be — in a way, he’s not letting you do your job.

Distanced from the rest of the team, you’re not much help.

How is that professional?

You know the game he’s playing. Avoidance. Distance. Control.

You’re sick of it.

But Officer Pretty Smile — his name’s Ryan — doesn’t seem to mind the stormcloud hanging over your head. He makes it easy to forget, just a little. He’s perceptive, actually listens when you talk, knows when to make you laugh and when to stay quiet. It’s a relief.

He flirts — lightly, respectfully — and you flirt back. Why shouldn’t you?

Aaron’s the one who put this wall up. He’s the one not speaking to you.

You don’t owe him your loyalty if he won’t even look at you outside of a damn case briefing.

The case wraps up after a few days of gruelling profiling, false leads and one late-night stakeout that finally caught your UnSub at a rest stop. You’re debriefing the locals, coordinating transport and starting to pack things up when Ryan walks you out to the parking lot.

He offers you his number, and you take it, pocketing it with a smile that widens when he leans in to press a soft kiss to your cheek. It’s innocent, really. Careful and sweet, but when he pulls back, he doesn’t go far. His face stays close, breath brushing against your skin as his eyes lock onto yours.

Then his gaze drops — not just to your lips, but the space between you — like he’s weighing the distance and what to do about it. It takes a breath or two before he meets your eyes again.

He leans in, slower this time, and his lips just barely graze yours. A featherlight touch that barely classifies as a kiss. It’s more of a hesitation. A silent question — do you want this too?

Yes, you do.

You answer by lifting a hand and placing it gently on his jaw, your touch light but certain.

He exhales softly, and his hands move to your waist, holding you like he’s been wanting to all day.

Your lips are so close, a breath away, and just as you’re about to close the gap—

“Agent!”

Aaron’s voice cuts through the humid Florida air like a gunshot, sharp enough to turn heads. It’s not just a call — it’s a warning. A demand. His tone carries weight, and everyone nearby instinctively pauses, glancing over to where he stands near the SUV, his jaw tight, posture coiled like he’s seconds away from snapping.

You freeze.

Where the fuck did he spawn from?

Ryan pulls back, but not completely. His hands stay on your waist, holding you close, as his eyes look over your shoulder.

You, however, don’t turn around — stubbornly refusing to give Hotch the satisfaction of ruining this moment.

He can wait.

He can watch.

You keep your gaze locked on Ryan. On his lips that are a bit further away than before, parted in confusion as he stares at your boss.

Your fingers shift slightly against his jaw — a gentle nudge meant to draw his attention back to you. And it works. His eyes flicker away from whatever intensity Hotch is radiating behind you and settle back on yours.

You lean in, slow and deliberate, and the moment you do, he seems to forget everything else as he leans in too.

And, just like before, just as your lips graze—

“Agent!”

Somehow, his voice is harsher than before — each syllable laced with barely contained fury.

Your hands fall from Ryan’s face and drop to your sides as you sigh, letting your head dip forward slightly.

“What’s his problem?” Ryan murmurs, his frustration mirroring yours as he shoots Aaron a brief, irritated glance before turning his attention back to you.

You lift your head, just enough to meet his eyes again, and mutter, “I don’t know. He’s just—” You wave a hand vaguely behind you. “A hardass.” You pause. “Or an ass. A normal ass. Whichever floats your boat.”

Ryan snorts, nodding as he looks back at Aaron. “Yeah. That tracks.”

You smile, wide and genuine. “Well then,” you say, looking up at him, “duty calls.”

He nods, looking a bit reluctant as he returns your smile and asks, “Will I see you again before you go?”

You hesitate, just for a second, before finally glancing over your shoulder.

Hotch stands by the entrance of the Jacksonville Sheriff’s Office — arms crossed, back stiff, jaw tight. His eyes are locked on you like he’s trying to dissect every inch of the moment he just interrupted. He looks furious. Controlled, as always, but furious nonetheless.

You look back at Ryan. “Probably not.”

There’s a brief pause — just a breath of silence — before he nods. He doesn’t push, doesn’t ask for anything more. Instead, he steps in and kisses your cheek again, soft and quick, like a quiet goodbye. When he pulls back, he lets his hand brush down your arm before stepping away.

You turn without another word, lowering your head as you approach Aaron. With each step, the feeling of his stare on you burns hotter, sharper.

You stop in front of him, standing there for a moment before you glance up.

His blazer is off, his blue button-up clinging slightly to his skin. His sunglasses perched on his nose and his jaw is tight.

You hate yourself for thinking that he looks hot.

You cross your arms, exhaling sharply before saying, “You called?”

He doesn’t waste a second. “Get the scene logs from the officers inside. I want them scanned and uploaded before we leave for the jet.”

His tone is dry, detached. The words hang in the air like a weight that doesn’t match the way he’s looking at you. His expression is stone-cold, all business, and it only fuels the frustration coursing through you.

You blink, your chest tightening. That’s it? That’s the urgent reason he called you out of a kiss like the sky was falling?

It’s a bullshit task. You both know it.

But he’s your Unit Chief. And right now, he’s pulling rank — not for the case. The case is over. Solved.

He’s doing it for himself, and it makes you want to scream.

You bite back the thousand things you want to say, give a tight nod, and walk past him without a glance.

—

On the jet, the tension is unbearable.

Aaron is sitting near the front, a stack of case files spread in front of him that he hasn’t touched since takeoff. He just stares at them, unmoving, like he’s willing them to make him forget.

You’re in the back, headphones on, glaring out the window as your forehead rests against the glass of it.

The others feel it — the tightrope tension stretching across the cabin. No one says a word.

After a while, you can’t help but glance his way, your eyes rolling when you see how he’s glaring at the files in front of him.

He’s clearly seething. The image of you, about to kiss someone else, seemed to be carved into his memory.

If he’d been closer, he might’ve punched the guy. Hell, if he wasn’t so goddamn professional, he might’ve dragged you away himself.

But he didn’t. He waited. He watched.

He hates that he waited.

And now he’s stewing in it.

When the jet lands, everyone moves quickly — eager to escape the static pressure in the air. You stand, grabbing your go-bag before heading for the stairs.

And then — low, sharp, right in front of you:

“Stay.”

He’s still seated, leaning forward slightly, elbow propped on the table. His hand is pressed to his face, fingers buried in his hair while his palm digs into his temple like he’s desperately trying to hold his thoughts together.

His eyes are closed — not from sleep, but something heavier — and despite the jet landing, his papers are still out, strewn in front of him. Clearly, he’d given up trying to read them — or pretending to read them.

His face is taut, shadowed — caught in a quiet storm of exhaustion or thought. Maybe both.

He looks really hot.

Swallowing, you will that thought away.

‘Stay.’ He had said, in a tone that made you freeze — one that left no room for argument.

You hesitate, your grip on your bag tightening a bit as you stare before deciding.

No.

With your lips set in a frown, you start walking again.

Just as you’re about to move past him, though, his hand reaches out to wrap around your wrist.

You tense, his touch making you feel warm and a bit breathless despite your anger.

“I said stay.” His voice cuts through the quiet — steady with an edge that sends a jolt through you.

Shit.

You look down at him, jaw set. “Let go.”

He doesn’t move at first — just lifts his eyes to meet yours, something unreadable flickering behind them. Then he exhales before rising to his feet in a fluid motion. His grip on your wrist doesn’t loosen as he stands over you, shoulders squared.

You falter, thrown by the sudden nearness. “Hotch—”

“Aaron.” He interrupts you, his eyes narrowing as he stares down at you. His tone is sharp, stern like hearing his last name offended him.

“Hotch.” You repeat it, just to piss him off.

If distance is what he wants, distance is what he’ll get.

He stares at you for a second before exhaling, a tired look in his eyes as he says, “We need to talk.”

“Oh, now you want to talk?” Your voice rises a bit and you barely manage to hold back a laugh. “You ignore me for weeks, send me off like I’m a problem you can delegate, and now — suddenly — you want to talk?”

His jaw clenches. “You don’t understand—”

“No. You don’t get to—“

Before you can finish what you’re saying, he uses his grip on your wrist to pull you into him. Fuelled by everything he hasn’t said, it’s not a gentle gesture.

You gasp as you stumble forward, crashing into his chest. Your cheek brushes the soft fabric of his shirt and your hand splayed instinctively against him for balance. When your eyes finally meet his, he’s already looking down at you — jaw tense, eyes dark, your faces now inches apart.

“You were going to kiss him.” His voice is quiet, but the words hit harder than if he’d shouted them.

His grip on your wrist tightens slightly, and for a moment, he closes his eyes. The sight of you both leaning in replays in his mind — the tension in his jaw is visible as his lips press into a line. His expression looks as if the image physically hurt him.

When he opens them again, his eyes lock onto yours, searching, checking to see if you understand the severity of it.

Your lips are parted as you stare at him.

You’re not surprised that he brought it up. You knew it was coming, but the way he says it — the weight in his voice — wasn’t something you were expecting.

His words carried an undertone of pain that make you falter. It’s not just about the kiss, you realise. It’s about everything he’s been holding in.

“You were about to kiss him.” He repeats, slower than before, his eyes still boring into yours.

Hearing the word ‘kiss’ a second time, along with the sudden proximity, had your gaze falling to his lips.

You couldn’t help it.

You looked back up quickly to find his eyes still on you.

A flicker of guilt creeps into your chest — something small, unwanted. Maybe it’s the way his voice quietened when he said it. Maybe it’s the look in his eyes, like he wasn’t prepared for how much it hurt him — you almost kissing someone else.

For a split second, you start to feel bad.

But it doesn’t last.

Not when you remember the last few weeks — how he’s iced you out, kept his distance like you didn’t matter, like the moments you shared never happened.

Your jaw tightens and your brows furrow in the way they always do when you’re annoyed.

“Stop.” You say, the word sharper than you intended. Shaking your head, your voice comes out quieter the second time. “Just… stop.”

He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, just watches you — eyes flicking across your face like he’s trying to read you.

Like he’s trying to profile you.

What happened to never profiling each other? Probably the same thing that happened to being ‘professional’.

“You’re being unfair, Aaron.”

You avert your gaze, unable to hold his anymore. It drops to his chest — the fabric of his shirt stretched a bit beneath your hands that are still resting there. You can feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing, slightly faster than it should be.

He has no right to be upset, you think, and it takes everything in you not to say it out loud first. But when you look back up at him, your anger catches fire again, sharp and unforgiving.

“You’re the one who pushed me away.” You bite out, voice low. “You iced me out. For weeks, Aaron.”

Your words land heavy in the space between you, but you don’t stop.

“You told me we couldn’t—” You falter slightly, pain catching in your throat, “—that we had to keep things professional. And then you avoided me. You acted like I didn’t matter.”

His jaw flexes again, but he says nothing.

“And now what?” you continue. “Now you’re upset because I almost kissed someone else? You don’t get to pull me in two different directions like this. You can’t tell me to stay away, and then look at me like that when someone else gets close.”

His hand is still on your waist, his grip on your wrist still firm. He hasn’t let go, hasn’t backed off, and that makes it worse — the contradiction of it. The ache of being wanted but not claimed.

“It’s confusing. You’re confusing.” My voice goes back to being quiet as I lower my gaze again, missing the way his expression softens a bit.

It softens because he knows you’re right.

He can’t argue with you, not really. Not when you’re looking at him like that. Or rather, not looking at him at all. Your eyes are fixed on his chest now, lips pressed together in that tight little frown that always means you’re trying not to show how hurt you are.

He can’t argue with you because you’re right.

He’s being unfair, and the guilt of that realization hits him instantly, swallowing him whole. The weight of his own selfishness also sinks in, making him feel stupid for not realizing how much he’s hurt you.

When the silence stretches for too long, you look up, and your frown deepens when you see how he’s watching you.

“Stop profiling me.” Your voice shakes a bit as you try to yank yourself free of his grip. But Aaron doesn’t let go. His hands stay firm on your waist, like letting go would mean losing something he’s not ready to give up.

It only makes you angrier.

You shove at his chest, hard, but he barely budges. “Let go.” you snap, glaring up at him, but his expression doesn’t shift. He just watches you, jaw tight, eyes unreadable behind the shield of his silence.

That silence cuts deeper than anything.

“You ignored me for weeks!” you shout, your voice rising, cracking with something raw. “You didn’t even look at me. You shut me out like I meant nothing!”

You try again to pull away, like his touch burns. Like the heat of his hands is searing through your skin, cracking you open.

And it hurts him — more than he thought it would. Watching you try to escape him like he’s done something unforgivable — which he has — makes something twist in his chest. He wants to fix it, but he doesn’t know how. Every word you throw at him lands like a blow, and still, he doesn’t move. Doesn’t let go.

He just hurts.

“Let go!” you yell, louder now, fists balled as you push at him again. “I said fuck off, Aaron!”

You look up at him then — eyes blazing, cheeks flushed with anger, your frown etched deep into your face. The fury in your expression is undeniable, and it hits him like a punch.

And before he even realizes what he’s doing — he kisses you.

It comes out of nowhere. Like something snaps inside him, like instinct. It’s not gentle. It’s not soft. It’s angry and desperate and messy—like he’s trying to shut you up and apologize all at once. Like everything he’s been holding back has just erupted, too big to contain.

You freeze at first, tensing against it, breath caught in your throat.

But then you break.

Your hands fist in the lapels of his blazer, gripping hard like you need something to hold you upright. Your lips move against his with the same kind of fury you’d just thrown at him — like this is a fight, too. But somewhere in that chaos, your shoulders slump, and so do his.

Like you’re both exhaling for the first time in weeks.

Like this is the first breath either of you has taken since everything fell apart.

His hands move — one, then both — rising to cradle your face, fingers splayed across your cheeks like he’s terrified you’ll disappear if he lets go.

You pull back first, breaking the kiss with a gasp, your breath catching somewhere between his mouth and your own. His grip loosens, and for a second, something like a whine escapes him — soft and involuntary — like he can’t believe you’re already pulling away.

You’re breathless. Lips swollen. Heart racing.

“You’re such an asshole.” you hiss, voice low, hoarse, but still furious.

His eyes darken. “You were gonna kiss him.”

“Stop repeating that!” you snap, but there’s no bite behind it now — just exhaustion and heat and emotion so tangled you can’t separate any of it.

You don’t even think about it — you just lean in again, drawn like a magnet. And this time, he meets you halfway. Your lips part just before they touch, and when they do, it feels like the ground shifts beneath you. Like the jet could be spinning or crashing and you wouldn’t even notice.

It’s slower, deeper — but just as intense. His hands are still on your face, and yours are clinging to him like you don’t trust gravity anymore.

But then he pulls away.

His forehead drops to yours — close, so close — and for a moment you almost let him stay there. But something in you twists, and you turn your head just slightly, breaking the contact. You keep your eyes shut, breathing shallow, your face turned toward the wall of the jet like if you don’t look at him, you can hold onto the last piece of your anger.

His heart sinks.

“I’m sorry.” he says, his voice quieter now. Cracked open. “I’m sorry for all of it.”

You don’t move. Don’t look.

“I— I thought it was the right thing.” he says, and now it’s all unraveling, everything he’s shoved down clawing its way out. “I didn’t know how to handle what I felt for you. I didn’t know if I should. So I convinced myself the best thing — the most responsible thing — was to shut it down. To shut you out.”

He lets out a breath, sharp and rough. “I told myself you’d be better off. That you didn’t need someone like me — someone older, someone who barely knows how to process his own shit, let alone drag you into it. My hours are a nightmare, I’m exhausted all the time, and I have nothing to give you except… this mess.”

His voice softens but doesn’t steady. “And if Strauss found out, she wouldn’t hesitate to pull you off the team. To punish you for something that was always my fault.”

You still don’t speak. Your eyes remain closed.

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” he says again, quieter now, like it physically hurts to say. “But it felt like cutting off my own oxygen. Seeing you every day, hearing your voice, pretending you were just another agent — it fucking destroyed me. Every moment I stayed away, I felt like I was unraveling. But I thought… if I could just hold the line a little longer, maybe I could let you go.”

His voice cracks then, barely above a whisper. “But I couldn’t. I can’t.”

You don’t say anything, and the silence eats at him. He shifts slightly, eyes scanning your face like he’s trying to read anything — any flicker of emotion, of softness, of something.

“Please say something.” he murmurs.

There’s no anger in him anymore. Just regret. Just longing.

“I haven’t slept,” he says, after a second. “Not really. Not since I let you go. You’ve been in my head every day. Every night. You walk into the room and I can’t think straight. I hear your voice down the hall and I forget what I’m doing. It’s pathetic.”

Then gently — cautiously — he reaches out, fingers brushing against your chin. He turns your face to him, coaxing your eyes to his.

And when you look at him, he looks wrecked.

There’s exhaustion in his features, shadows beneath his eyes, but it’s the look in them that breaks you: raw, sincere, desperate. Like you’re the only thing anchoring him to earth right now.

“I’m sorry.” he says again, like it’s the only thing he has left to give. Like he means it with everything he’s got.

And he does.

It’s silent for a second.

His eyes search yours, unsure and a little frantic, like he’s trying to profile you again — trying to get an understanding of whatever’s going on in your mind.

He gives up quickly, wanting to find out whatever it is your thinking from you yourself. But just as he’s about to ask, you kiss him.

When you pull back, your hands stay on him, sliding down to his chest where you can feel the rapid, uneven rhythm of his heart.

“I don’t expect you to be perfect, Aaron.” you murmur, voice soft but steady. “I’m not. I barely have my own shit together half the time. And I’m not looking for some ideal version of you — just you. The version that cares too much and thinks too hard and carries everything on his back like it’s his job to keep the world spinning.”

You pause, your eyes searching his, and he doesn’t look away.

“I don’t want anyone else.” you say, more firmly now. “I can’t want anyone else. My heart’s already decided. It’s you. It’s always been you. These past few weeks without you—feeling you pull away, watching you pretend like nothing mattered—that was hell. And if you think I just brushed it off and moved on, you really don’t know me at all.”

You don’t stop there, because you can see it — how he’s still doubting, still not sure what you see in him. So you tell him.

“You don’t even realize how much I see you.” you whisper. “How good you are. You’re strong, yeah, but you’re also… unbelievably kind. You’re the one who makes me feel stable when everything else is a mess. You make me feel safe without trying to control me. You make me feel… things I didn’t even know I was capable of feeling.”

His brow creases like he doesn’t know what to do with that, like it’s too much, too pure.

“And I don’t give a damn about your age. If anything, it makes you hotter.” you add with a breath of a laugh. “It means you’ve lived, you’ve learned, and you listen. You make me feel taken care of in a way no one ever has.”

He’s blinking at you like his brain short-circuited somewhere along the way.

“As for Strauss…” You shrug a little. “She’s not a profiler. We barely even see her. If we keep things professional at work, we’ll be fine. We’re good at this — at keeping calm under pressure. This isn’t gonna change that.”

Then you take one of his hands and hold it tightly, pressing your fingers to his palm.

“All I want,” you say, voice low, “is for you to let me love you.”

Something in him breaks. Or maybe it mends. You can’t quite tell.

His eyes widen just a little, and for a second he just stares at you — like his brain is still catching up. Like the word punched the breath right out of him.

“What?” he asks, the word so soft it’s barely audible.

“I just want to love you, Aaron.” you repeat, quieter this time, like it’s a promise.

His breath shudders out of him, and he leans forward again — not kissing you yet, just resting his forehead against yours, like he needs the grounding.

“I love you.” he says, the words raw and unfiltered. “And I’m sorry. I’ll talk to you next time — really talk. I won’t shut you out again. I won’t let myself forget what this feels like.”

“You better not.” you murmur.

And then he kisses you again.

It’s steadier now. Certain. Like he’s finally, finally giving in to the truth he’s been denying. Like he knows what he wants — and it’s you.

As your lips move together, the world outside the jet fades into the background. His hand moves slowly, purposefully, down your side, and then it shifts, lowering until he reaches into your pocket.

You pull away a little, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Before you can fully process it, he pulls out the small piece of paper — the one with Ryan’s number scrawled on it.

Your heart skips a beat. He saw that?

The thought stings for a second — had he seen everything? You’d assumed he’d stepped outside for some reason and had just happened to catch a glimpse of you two — coincidentally, when you were about to kiss.

But Aaron’s mind works in a different way. He had seen you leave with Ryan, noticed the way you two were talking, the smiles on your faces. And something in him tensed. He didn’t like it. The way you were walking so close, how easy it seemed between you. So he followed, curiosity gnawing at him. He hadn’t meant to — but it felt like he had to know.

You break the silence with a quiet question, still trying to make sense of it all. “You saw that?”

Aaron’s jaw tightens, his face flickering with a flash of frustration, then quickly hardening as he remembers it.

“I saw all of it.” he says, his voice colder than you expected. A wince pulls at his expression as he scrunches the paper up in his hand, turning to toss it in the small bin beside the exit of the jet, the movement sharp and final.

You can’t help but let out a small, amused laugh despite the tension. His reaction, his possessiveness — it’s almost too much to ignore. But then, before he can get too far in his thoughts, you soften and murmur an apology. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

He cuts you off with a question of his own, his gaze still intense as he watches you, his tone now a little guarded. “Were you actually going to kiss him?”

You blink, surprised by the bluntness, but you can’t help the smirk that slips onto your face. “Hey, you’re the one who paired me with him.”

Aaron rolls his eyes, the hint of frustration fading a little, but you can still see the sharp edge to his expression. “From now on, you’re with me for every case.”

You laugh at the thought, shaking your head, but the joke settles in as you reply, “I don’t think that’d help with keeping Strauss off our trail.”

Aaron chuckles, his eyes softening just a fraction, but he doesn’t back down. “I’ll risk it. It’s fine.”

Your laughter fills the space between you, and it warms Aaron’s heart more than he’d care to admit. He’s missed hearing it, hearing you so carefree, even when things feel a little chaotic.

He pulls you a little closer then, wrapping an arm around your waist as if he can’t let you go now that he’s got you. He starts guiding you off the jet with that same quiet confidence he always carries, but there’s something different now — a sense of peace between you both, even if the world outside still feels a little unsettled.

“You’re coming to my place.” he says, his voice low and steady. “I’m making you dinner.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

[yenhan]

TF141 & International student neighbor on the verge of a crisis

Next - Masterlist

a/n: f!reader

Synopsis: a tiny, itty bitty breakdown.

You didn’t cry when you moved into your flat. A few tears spilled when the kettle refused to boil, and the radiator wheezed like it was dying, but that hardly counted. You weren’t this close to a soul-shattering mental breakdown in four different languages and two whole personalities. Nope. That was just being a successful woman, completely in control of her life. You lived in a flat that could be described as vintage, or one good gust from collapsing, as your best friend kindly put it when you called. It had four walls, a roof, and the washing machine only flooded the kitchen every other week. It wasn’t the worst deal in the world. At least you didn't have spiders building their little lego-web houses on the ceiling. That would be disgusting.

However, you spent your first night on the couch wrapped in every hoodie you owned, scrolling through your phone with the Wi-Fi from the library nearby that cut out if you breathed wrong, wondering what the hell you’d gotten yourself into.

The move to England had been impulsive, at least that’s what your parents said. “You’re barely out of high school, sweetheart. Isn't it too soon?” But you wanted to prove you could do it; be independent, get a degree, build a career. Whatever that meant. You didn’t know yet. Those stupid tik toks about girlbossing your way through life didn’t help much, either. Classes were hard. Work was harder. You cleaned tables at a café full of old ladies who judged your every move, then crammed lectures and assignments into your evenings, falling asleep to the sound of cats screeching in the alley outside your window.

And then there were your neighbors.

The first time you saw them, your eyeballs nearly popped out. Four men who looked like they’d walked out of an action movie trailer. Broad shoulders, broader chests, paired with alertness that made you sit up straighter when they walked by. Pavlov's a bitch. One of them wore a beanie and had a beard that probably intimidated children. Or made them laugh, it depends on who you ask. You bet he worked as Santa Claus during Christmas time, that beard would do wonders. One limped slightly but moved like he’d break into a sprint at the slightest excuse, he also had a nasty scar on his head. One always had his baseball hat up and gentle eyes. And the last one… he wore sunglasses even on cloudy days and didn’t speak unless he was being sentenced to death. You nicknamed them The Lads before you even learned their names. It was honestly a really bad attempt at copying the British accent, a silly little inside joke meant only for yourself.

It was the limp that pulled you into their circle. Soap. His real name was Johnny, but everyone called him that. Something had happened to him. Not a car crash kind of injury, and surely not a oops-I-got-a-paper-cut issue. Something else. A kind of hurt that reeked of bloodshed and gunfire. He looked so cheerful despite it all... you envied his lack of self-restraint. He helped you carry a box of books up the stairs when you dropped it.

"You don’t look like a librarian." You tried to break the ice.

He grinned. “Cheers, lass. Ye don’t look like yer old enough to be living alone.”

“Rude,” you replied, winded. “But fair.” You became something like their mascot after that. Or a stray pup they all silently agreed to look after.

Price knocked on your door the night your power went out. Just handed you a flashlight and an extra blanket and left, didn’t even wait for a thank you. Gaz noticed your bike had a flat and fixed it without a word. Ghost, well, Ghost scared you a little. A lot. But you never said it to his face. It wouldn't be polite, would it?

You weren’t supposed to become attached to them. They were four grown men with lives and a bond so deep you couldn’t begin to understand. And you? You were just the girl next door. Sweet, a little clueless, a little cheeky, and hanging on by a thread.

You were tired all the time. Tired of pretending you were having the time of your life when really, you felt like you were slowly crumbling. Like the version of yourself that had boarded that plane so full of hope and plans had somehow gotten lost between Heathrow and the broken laundromat on the corner. How could you tell your mum you were regretting everything? How could you face your brother and say that the big sister he looked up to was just a loser? The weather was hell 365 days out of 365, if someone offered you another fish and chips dish you'd crash out, and you were likely forgetting all of the damned languages you spoke because of the humidity eating your brain cells.

Wasn't youth supposed to be the best time of your life? This was the part where you found yourself and laughed and made memories you’d cherish forever... Seriously, what the heck were you doing? You felt cold and alone. Ate one-pound meals at the measly convenience store run by Aunt Wang and listened to her ranting in Mandarin Chinese. What an exciting existence. How dignified.

Until the night you cried in the stairwell. You’d just finished a shift where someone called you incompetent because you didn’t know what a “flat white” was supposed to taste like. Your exam results had come back worse than expected. And your period had started early, like the universe had decided to kick you where the sun doesn't shine while you were already down. Bollocks, Simon's voice rang in your mind. You were curled up by the railing, the hoodie laid over your knees, when the door opened. Boots. Heavy ones. Speaking of the devil, Ghost’s voice scared the shit out of you. “Bad day?”

You sniffled, eyeing him up and down. “No, just peachy. Rainbows and all that.”

“Bollocks." He countered timely. You giggled. It was ridiculous and extremely easy to make your day better. Any of them could with just a snap of fingers. "I'm telling Price y'were here cryin' like a baby."

"Oh, shut it. I'll have you know some of us have beating hearts in our ribcage, Mr. Creep-a-lot."

"Oi, yer fifteen years too young t'make fun o'me."

Perhaps you did have one good thing in your hands, wasting it would be a shame.

[reilemon]

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊Cool Off₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

♡︎ pairing: Zayne x fem!reader

｡°⚠︎°｡MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)｡°⚠︎°｡

♡︎ cw: unprotected sex (oops), office sex, semi-public sex, oral sex (f!receiving), fingering, I think that's it?

♡︎ word count: 3.4k

♡︎ synopsis: what to do when you "accidentally" flash your doctor?

♡︎ a/n: I haven't written smut in like three years. So if you think my writing is cringe, just keep scrolling idk.

♡︎ special thanks to my beta reader ♡︎ @its-de ♡︎ for reading and helping me with this

banner by @cafekitsune

You finally have a day off and you want to use this free time to run errands. However, it's also a hot summer day and you need to dress accordingly. After cleaning your apartment and stocking up your fridge, you have -

meet up with your friend

shop for some new summer clothes and bed sheets

doctor’s appointment

You'd just skip the last one because you feel fine, even during the hot weather.

But you know damn well Dr Zayne will not be pleased with you if you do that. And he's not only your doctor now (and a childhood friend), but an actual friend who you spend most of your free time with. Circumstances of him being your assigned physician, some other stuff that happened in the last few months, brought you so much closer that you couldn't help but develop a huge crush on him. And how could you not when he's so kind, warm, attentive, always makes time for you, funny in his own way... you could spend the whole day thinking of all the stuff that makes you want to be more than friends.

Actually, you might be more than just friends. Lately, you’ve been going on a lot of “dates”; visiting festivals, trying new restaurants but also frequenting your favorite ones, dragging him to the arcade… he’s started insisting on being the one to drop you off at home after a night out. Just a couple of weeks ago when you were sick, he came to your place and took care of you. Both of you ended up falling asleep on your bed watching your comfort movie – actually, he wanted to read his book but ended up invested in the plot and eventually fell asleep before you, tired from his shift and nursing you back to health. You had enough strength to get up to pull out a freshly washed blanket from the closet and cover him. You lied back down, finding comfort in watching Zayne’s peaceful sleeping face. That’s how you fell asleep.

The next morning you found yourself waking up on Zayne’s chest, your form enveloping his. He was gently stroking your back, waiting for you to open your eyes. You don’t know whether you were the one that latched onto him during the night, or if he’s the one that pulled you in; nonetheless, it felt surreal to wake up like this. You looked up into his beautiful hazel green eyes, and you just shared a moment of pure intimacy. Then you got self-conscious of him having a close up of your morning face, which made you immediately jump from the bed and sprint to the bathroom. So, he did manage to nurse you back to health in one day.

You really wish he made the first move already. With all the stolen glances, lingering touches, cuddling, you genuinely think he feels the same way. But you are also his patient, so maybe he feels uncomfortable starting anything, like he’s crossing a boundary and abusing his position as your physician? Maybe he’s waiting for you to make the first move?

Or maybe you’re just delusional and ovulating.

Okay, back to the present. You’re not going to pass up the opportunity to see your crush (this is more than just a crush, honestly) and you add one more task to the list

get some dessert for Zayne

And you want to look cute for him, so you opt for your new backless summer dress.

☃︎⋆⁺₊☃︎⋆⁺₊☃︎⋆⁺₊

“Thank fuck, I look okay.” You murmur as you check yourself out in the mirror in the bathroom of Zayne's office.

It's just before 8pm, your scheduled checkup. Both of you were too busy to hang out for more than a week, and you can’t wait to see him. You took this opportunity to leave the heavy shopping bags on the sofa, the bag with dessert on his desk, and quickly freshen up in the bathroom. It was so hot today, still is, but thanks to the dress you didn't sweat that much.

You exit the bathroom the same time he enters the office. You catch how his usually stern gaze behind his glasses softens at the sight of you.

“Hey!” You don’t waste any time and shorten the distance between you, wrapping your arms around his neck giving him a peck on the cheek.

Zayne’s hands stiffly hover over your waist, stunned by the enthusiastic greeting. You always have a big smile on your face when you see him, but you’re only this forward when you have some alcohol in your system. He doesn’t smell it on your breath now though.

“Did you miss me that much, or are you trying to coax me to skip the check up?”

You pull away with a pout and a blush on your cheeks. Feeling a little embarrassed, you go and sit on a chair across his desk, steering the conversation towards the dessert you brought him.

With an entertained smirk, he sat on his chair and indulged in just chatting with you, and making plans for the evening. He feels at ease now that you’re here.

Zayne cuts the conversation short to take care of some paperwork, so you entertain yourself with your phone, checking what cafes are open. You sit there in silence, not wanting to disturb him. The room is air-conditioned and you would think you'd start to cool down, but it's impossible to do so when your crush is right across you. You try to focus on your phone but your eyes keep darting between the screen and Zayne’s handsome focused features…his hand holding the pen… his long fingers...

“You need to ask me something?” Zayne peers over his glasses.

Busted!

For like a hundredth time.

You fidget in your seat. “Um, no. I don’t wanna disturb you.”

He closes a file and puts papers aside. “I’m done. Go ahead.”

You make up how you wanted to ask him if he wanted to visit the café on your screen, only to for him to point out it’s closed when you show it to him. Not smooth at all.

You nervously scratch your back, and that when it hits you. You didn't wear a bra today!

In your defense, of course you're not going to wear a bra with the backless dress and when it's so hot outside, and it would be okay if this was just a hangout, but the main reason why you're here is because of the check up! Well, now you're getting even more flustered and you can feel nervous sweat forming everywhere. Great.

Zayne's voice fades into focus.

"Is everything okay?"

“Yeah, let’s just go find a cafe that’s nearby!” You prop yourself to sit up and make a run for it, but the seriousness in Zayne’s tone stops you.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

You wave your hand “I feel great, you don't need to -"

"That's good to hear." He humors you, setting the stethoscope around his neck, eyes not leaving yours.

You engage in a short staring contest, but you never win those with him. You hold back the bratty whine as you get up and walk towards the chair. Should you address this? What would be more awkward – saying that you don’t have a bra on or just slipping off the top of the dress, flashing him? But Zayne is a professional; he probably saw plenty of breasts from other patients and didn’t bat an eye. And maybe he even noticed that you’re braless.

You sit on the chair next to him and Zayne gives you an amused look. “Good girl.”

It was like a reflex - the moment you heard those words, your hands slipped off the top of your dress. Zayne pauses, his eyes locked at the sight before him. Oh shit, did you manage to make the situation awkward after all? Just when you wanted to open your mouth to say anything, he blinks and proceeds to do what he’s supposed to do. You suck in a breath when the icy cold stethoscope touches your chest spreading goosebumps across your skin, making your nipples hard. Zayne's eyes are focused somewhere to the side, but you can see light redness peppered on his cheeks. The two of you sit there in silence while he checks your heartbeat. You try to compose yourself, take slow breaths, but your heart is giving you away.

When he’s done, he takes off the instrument and places it on the table. He clears his throat “Nothing irregular, your heartbeat is a little faster, but the heat is probably to blame.”

Right, the heat.

You hope that the redness, still on his face, and his ears, is not from the sun.

Again, you have two choices – do you pull the top up and act like nothing happened, continue the same ‘will they, won’t they’ routine – or do you want to do something about this, take the first step and find out once and for all if this infatuation is one sided?

You take his hand, making him look at you, ‘Well, can you help me cool down, Doctor?’

Zayne eyes widen slightly, switching between your hand and your gaze, only guessing where you’re going with this.

You gently place his cold hand just above your left breast ‘Is this okay?’ you whisper.

Zayne’s irises are almost black from how dilated his pupils are. As he gazes into your doe eyes, the hand resting on your chest travels up across your skin and lands on the side of your neck. He takes off his glasses, leans towards you, his lips a breath away from yours, “You’re walking on thin ice, darling.”

He grabs you by the back of your neck and pulls you into a searing kiss. Zayne is kissing you like a man starved, like he's been waiting for this for so long, afraid that this moment will slip away all too quickly. His other hand wraps tightly around your waist, pulling you closer, pressing your chests together, feeling each other’s heartbeats. You moan into the kiss, surprised by the intensity of it and the desperation of his embrace. His lips are so soft and tender, just like you imagined too many times. The hand on your waist travels up to grab your breast, the sensation of his big cold hand on your heated skin making you gasp against his lips. He seizes the moment to lick your bottom lip, then slipping his tongue, yours quickly meeting it.

Suddenly, both of his hands land on your shoulders pulling away.

He utters ‘fuck’ (this might be the first time hearing him say the f word, and you’re embarrassed how excited it made you.) He holds your chin with thumb and index finger, ‘Do you wish to continue?’

You utter ‘yes’ and grab him by the black necktie locking your lips again. His hands find the top of your thighs, then sneaking their way down to bunch up your dress over your knees.

“Hold onto me.” He murmurs between kisses, and you oblige, catching onto his shoulders. Zayne grabs you by the back of your soft thighs, lifting you from the chair and placing you on his desk, so effortlessly and swiftly, like you weigh nothing.

Your fingers comb through his soft, thick hair, relishing in the fact of being able to touch it like this. His hands cup your face, distancing his lips from yours. You expectantly look up to see his tender, yearning gaze. He looks like he’s about to say something, but then he kisses you again, this time softly, slowly deepening it, stealing your breath away. His soft lips move to kiss and nip at the side of your neck, his hands giving attention to your breasts again. He caresses both of them, and it doesn’t take long for one of his hands to be replaced by his lips. His hot tongue teases around the nipple. But when he starts sucking on it, while simultaneously playing with the other one with his fingers, a loud moan escapes your lips.

Zayne’s smirks against the sensitive nipple, “You need to stay quiet, darling.”

You were so dazed with lust that you completely forgot that there could be people outside his office. You bite your bottom lip and nod.

He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, one hand bunching up your dress more and resting on your hip, while the one on your nipple sneaks its way down, teasing the band of your underwear. You feel his fingers slide down, rubbing you over your soaked panties, making you move your hips, craving more friction.

“Fuck.” He breathes against your ear, “You’re already so wet for me.”

The fingers travel towards the band of your underwear and tug on it, and you lift your hips to let him slide it down your legs. Then he stashes your panties into the pocket of his pants.

He catches you by surprise when he kneels down in front of your cunt, your legs closing on reflex, but Zayne grabs your thighs before they could squish his head.

He gently strokes them, "Let me see you."

You’re hesitant about it, but you remember that you took extra steps when you freshened up in the bathroom. Slowly, you spread your legs, lifting your feet to rest on the edge of the desk. Cool air against your soaked pussy sends shivers all over your body.

His hands rest on the plush of your inner thighs. His eyes are mesmerized by the sight in front of him. You almost feel self-conscious by the close-up he’s getting.

"Zayne –" You squirm under his stare.

Snapping out of his daze, he meets your eyes "I’m sorry. You’re just so much more beautiful than I imagined."

Than he imagined? The statement makes your cheeks even deeper red, your pussy more wet and impatient.

Feeling impatient himself, Zayne starts by placing gentle kisses on your inner thigh. The hand on the opposite side follows the same trail, his slender fingers stopping to tease your wet folds, the contact making you gasp and involuntarily clench your thighs.

"Relax, angel." His breath fans over your pussy, not making it easier but you try anyway.

The digits slowly glide over the wetness, bathing in your juices. Your hips flinch as his fingertips lightly circle your clit, thighs trembling as digits are replaced with his hot tongue. It glides flat over your folds, stopping to circle the sensitive nub. The tip of the tongue flicks over it, circles it, again and again, your cunt dripping with both his saliva and your arousal. His middle finger slides in, ring finger shortly after, curling to reach and rub that delicate spot inside you; he sucks and licks your clit while finger fucking you, and your thighs are now shaking, toes curling, as intense waves of pleasure course through your body.

Your hold onto Zayne’s hair, and roll your hips in the same rhythm of his fingers, chasing your release, "Zayne… I’m gonna–"

He locks eyes with you and continues what he’s doing; you come shortly after, covering your mouth with your hand.

Zayne helps you come down from your high, places soft pecks on your thighs again and stands up, pulling you into another breathtaking kiss.

Your hands frantically find his belt and start unbuckling it.

Zayne breaks the kiss, ‘I don’t have any condoms here.’

You shrug ‘Just pull out.’

‘That’s not very respo – ‘

‘Well, you’re a doctor; you can prescribe me some plan b pills.’ you innocently flutter your lashes.

He chuckles and starts taking off his tie and shirt, and you take a moment to gaze at the strong, chiseled muscles of his torso, his arms and those shoulders. Zayne, amused at your dazed and shameless ogling of his  shirtless physique, reaches down to unzip his pants, taking them and underwear off in the same go, his hard cock smacking against his shaved pelvis. You suck in a breath when your eyes land on it. He's long and thick, curved just right, tip glistening with so much precum. You hand wraps around it, stroking and feeling the pulsing veins under your touch.

Zayne’s breath hitches ‘Are you sure – fuck…’ He groans when you press his length against your slippery folds, teasingly moving your hips.

‘Yes… I need you.’

With those magic words, Zayne swipes all the papers off the table, grabs you behind the knees and lifts your legs further, and you lean back to rest on your elbows.

His dick strokes your slit, tip teasing the entrance, but you're so impatient.

'Zaynee-' you whine.

He closes his eyes, jaw clenched. Even though your ‘friend’ is the embodiment of calm and collected, right now he’s barely holding onto his composure. His flushed cheeks and red ears, ragged breathing are exposing how badly he wanted, needed, this and how he’s trying so hard not to cum right here before even slipping the tip in.

But he doesn’t want to wait any longer; with your needy whines spurring him on, he places his red cockhead against you, your drenched pussy making it easy to slide it in.

His leg muscles tremble, trying to restrain himself from bottoming out the same second; with shallow thrusts, he slowly slides it all the way in. He towers over you, one hand resting on the desk, the other cupping your face. His hips roll at languid pace, his hooded eyes never leaving your face, watching you adjust to his size.

As you get comfortable, you grab him by back of his neck “Faster, please…” You breathe. He leans down, locking your lips into a sloppy kiss.

He slowly picks up the pace, his hand starts playing with your nipples again, and now it's really hard keep your voice down. You keep breaking the kiss in desperate need to catch your breath, but moans escape your lips as well. Zayne grabs your upper arms and pushes you down further. His muscular torso pressed against yours, his pelvis rubbing against your clit.

“Zayne - I'm close”

“Try to stay quiet, angel.” he grunts, his eyes locked on your face, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He angles himself so his hand can reach down and rub your clit, and it’s too much for you - you cum a few seconds later and Zayne has to slip two fingers of his other hand into your mouth to keep you from screaming. You still whimper and moan over his fingers. He slows down to help you ride out the orgasm, and pulls out the fingers to kiss your lips.

'Is it okay to pick up the pace now? I'm so close.'

You only nod, unable to form any words. He plants a kiss on your temple and moves onto kissing and sucking your neck. Then he goes back to just looking at your face while he picks up the pace, your legs locking around his waist, pulling him even deeper. You bite your bottom lip, but at this point, you feel it's impossible to stay quiet. And now it's not only you who is making noise, but the desk, although sturdy, is starting to move and creak.

You gasp as he suddenly lifts you off the table with his big arms wrapped around your torso. You wrap your arms around his neck, holding onto him. His hands grabs your ass and starts moving your hips in unison with his, his throbbing dick thrusting so much deeper, all the juices leaking down his balls and onto the floor.

You latch your teeth onto his neck to keep yourself from screaming while he’s panting feverishly into your ear.

‘I’m gonna come soon –‘

You meet his gaze ‘Don’t pull out.’

His hips stutter at your words, eyes widening for a second. He curses under his breath and picks up the pace. You pull him into a sloppy kiss, lewd gasps and pants interrupting.

His hands squeezing your ass in a bruising grip, he grunts against your lips, and you feel intense throbbing of his cock; warm liquid filling you up, sending shivers all over your sweaty body.

His slow pumps let his thick cum drip out, making a mess of his pants and the floor. You can feel how fast his heart is beating against your chest. The two of you catch your breath as your lips share a languid kiss, enjoying the warmth of each other’s bodies.

After pulling out, Zayne sits you on his chair. He kneels in front of you, caresses your cheek, his eyes full of adoration. “I never thought our first time would look like this.”

You lean into his palm, looking at him with sweet innocent eyes, “Oh? What did you imagine then?”

“I can show you later.”

[ulteri0rm0tives]

Now I cant stop thinking abt Arasaka using Vs engram as a guinea pig to constantly test the tech that'll move them forward in the completion of the secure yr soul program and all the experiments that come with trying to find compatibility with the bodies :(( could you imagine being given life and sentience over and over again by this God just to be killed over and over again when It deems you a failure and unworthy :(( coming back wrong, engram not properly integrated with the empty vessel/mind or in pain because, again, just being born into this painful state of constant metaphysical organ rejection :(( do you think V remembers each time? The torture of all this? Or do you think the company has the slightest bit of courtesy (and I can't even say compassion here, just courtesy of convenience to make these tests run smoother, a practical decision) to wipe these memories from V's code?

Do you think his memories become a jumbled mess like Johnny's did? Unable to discern which is from his past life compared to his infinitely growing number of new ones? Do pieces of him break off and fracture with each new test? Do they create copies of his construct for just this very thing? When the current construct they're working with degrades so grossly it becomes defective and unusable? Now faced with copies of yourself all distorted and deformed in uniquely different ways? Do you think they'll let V go once they perfected these tests? Once V's body doesn't reject his engram and for as far as the public knows his engram is completely intact with near complete accuracy? Do you think they tote him around on a leash forced to be a spokesperson for the finally completed program, a shining example of the final product, V unable to go anywhere now that his existence is all owed to the very tech saka owns? That his soul might not be, but it now owns the body he lives in? Do you really think it's only temporary the promise of becoming its property? Do you think V will ever escape it?

When u gave up yr bfs life against his wishes to the monsters that took it in the first place and u come out the other end still dying anyway so u either live the rest of ur life managing the slow mental degradation of ur mind till eventually u end up dead in a motel somewhere all alone brain leaking from yr nose or u relinquish yr life to the company allowing it to keep u locked up as property for what will practically feel like eternity in the same purgatorial cell they kept yr bf in for all those years! because they totally super prommy to give yr soul back once they find a compatible body that they can put it in! one they'll totally ethically source just like that one guy did to his son! creating this cycle of one life stealing another for another for another! or worst! If they create this body something that is finally compatible where u won't live on in a total state of constant metaphysical organ rejection and they put yr soul into it yr soul might not be their property anymore but haha that body is now! so no matter what there isn't a fate where yr escaping the debt u'll always be in to this company :) and it really just leaves u with the question, the one asking u if u could even say this was all worth it in the end, giving up the one you love for something that was always so inevitable? :)

[theliving-radio]

Sorry If this one is too confusing 😭 

So basically NRC (maybe Ortho too but platonic love) with a s/o that got turned into a cat by a potion mix-up, not naming names Grim and Adeuce 👀 (also, maybe reader could be like a maine coon? Idk but I love the idea of reader was a cat they would be bigger than grim but any cat is cute 😖) but the twist is that s/o is not a normal cat, but actually a flerken (If you don't know what that is, it's basically a space cat from marvel) So when Idia is petting them too aggressive or Floyd is squeezing them too tightly or if anyone is annoying them, they just open their mouth and swallow them up like a fckin snack, and maybe spit them back out when they're in a good mood leaving them so fckin traumatized. And the people witnessing it are like 🧍

I know about the Flerken! I used to be such a huge ass Marvel fan so many years ago! I fell off the band wagon right after Avengers: End Game. I even have an old fanfic posted on Wattpad for Marvel… I… haven’t worked on it in such a long time…

Please don’t attack me lol

Anyway, instead of just every character at once, I did every dorms reaction. Just to add some spice and fun to the mix!

And for the funnies

Warning: human consumption (but not gory or bloody. Just pocket dimension stuff), not part of the Big Brother Malleus writing, can be romantic or platonic (Ortho is clearly platonic)

And I do apologize for taking so long on writing this! Get distracted really easily.

Like REALLY easily. Anyway I hope you enjoy it!

“… Oops?”

Grim had no idea how it happened. He didn’t! You couldn’t possibly blame him for accidentally mixing up your drink with the potion assignment he was supposed to turn in!

But here you guys were, back in Ramshackle. Him looking up at your now fluffy fur body.

Cat.

You were now a cat.

“Listen, I can fix this!”

“Mrep…”

“Don’t doubt me hench… cat?”

Your cat self rolled its eyes and stood up on all fours. Before Grim was able to say anything, you picked him up by the scruff of his neck with your mouth and trotted out of Ramshackle.

The scene looked like a mother cat dragging away her baby kitten.

“MRAH! Let me go! I command it!”

You ignored him and went straight to the mirror chamber, hoping that one of your friends in the dorms will help you.

Heartslabyul

Ace and Deuce started losing their shit as soon as they saw Grim being dragged by a larger cat in the Heartslabyul garden.

“Grim, Who’s the fluffy one?” Deuce covers his mouth to hide his smile.

“Did you finally find your parent figure?” Ace teased.

“CAN IT, ACE!” You plop Grim down and trot over to Deuce who bent down to give you scratches.

Grim dusts himself off, grumbling under his breath. “I could have walked just fine! You didn’t have to drag me all the way here!”

You ignored Grim as you happily laid down in the grass and rolled over. Deuce’s eyes practically sparkled when you presented your belly to him, and he carefully rubbed it, making you purr happily.

“Mrah! Henchmen! Stop being difficult!” Grim shouted, his words causing Deuce to stop giving you pets and Ace to let out a strangled wheeze.

“P-prefect!?”

“Oh Sevens! What did you do this time!?” Ace crouches a bit as he begins laughing once again.

Grim crosses his arms and looks away. “I didn’t do anything! It was… it was them! They shouldn’t leave their stuff around in the first place!”

Offended! Scandalized! Wrong!

You picked yourself up from the grass and walked over to Grim…

Then swatted him.

“MRAH!?” Grim lets out a startled sound as he rubs his head. Before he was able to ask why you did that, you swatted him again. And again. And again.

Ace was on the grass floor laughing his ass off. It was like watching a cat hitting their child if they misbehaved.

“I would assume you’re finished painting the roses.” Ace stops his laughing and looks over to see Riddle, Cater, and Trey walking over. Riddle squints his eyes at the roses, seeing some of them still white and untouched by the crimson red paint.

“D-dorm Leader Riddle! We uh- we actually have a good reason why we aren’t finished!” Deuce tries to explain as he picks you up and shows you to the three upper class-men.

Cater gasps as he takes his phone out, quickly snapping photos of your fluffy figure. You only blinked at him and tilted your head, causing the ginger to squeal. “Oh my Sevens! They are totes adorbs!”

“A cat?! Why is there a cat here?” Riddle asks, his face showing confusion before he lets out a gasp. “The Hedgehogs! Are the hedgehog’s safe?! Did this cat do something!?”

“I’ll go check on them right now-!”

“There is no need to do that!” Deuce cuts Trey off. “This is the Prefect!”

There was a long pause between all the Heartslabyul students. The Three upper class-men processing what the first year just said. Riddle stares at Deuce and Ace before opening his mouth. “… what did you two do?”

Deuce sputters and Ace quickly looked offended. “We didn’t do anything! Grim was the one that did this!”

“Mew.” You let out a small meow and Cater broke out from his shock and started rapidly taking pictures once again.

Riddle groans as he takes a deep breath. Inhale, exhale… he didn’t want to blow his head off in front of the Prefect after all. “Grim, explain to me… what you gave the Prefect.”

“How am I supposed to know?! It’s their fault their water bottle and the potion bottle looked the same!”

“What was the potion you made?” Grim went quiet when Riddle asked the question. The dire-beast mumbles something under his breath and Riddle’s eye twitches. “Repeat that again.”

“It was supposed to be a Sleepy time potion! To help the drinker sleep better!”

“HOW DID YOU FULLY MESS THAT UP?!” Riddle full on shouts at Grim, causing the poor, small feline cat to flinch. “A Sleep potion? You messed up a SLEEP potion???”

“Riddle-,” Trey tries to calm Riddle down, but Riddle fully ignores him.

“In what universe could you possibly mix up a Sleep potion for a transfiguration potion?! And you didn’t even bother to check what you brought first before handing it to the Prefect?!”

Riddle continues going off on Grim, scolding him nonstop.

It was too noisy.

Your maw opens, an eldritch presence unnoticed by the others in the room, solely focused on Riddle. A single pink, flesh like tendril lulls out.

Targeting Riddle.

Nobody was able to progress what happened, it went by so fast. One second Riddle was standing right between Cater and Trey, the next he was gone. All they were able to see was a flash of… something… coming from you.

Deuce was the first one to snap out of it and let out a scream, dropping you in the process. Thank Sevens for cat-like reflexes! You landed perfectly on all hours and grabbed ahold of Grim once again, and bolted out of the Heartslabyul dorm.

Trey blinks at where Riddle was once standing, then the universe snaps him out of it. “W-wait! Hold on!”

“Suddenly… Prefect isn’t as cute as a cat anymore.” Cater spoke up as he watched Trey sprint towards the direction where you left.

“Would they even be considered a cat after what we just saw?! What the hell are they?!”

“I was giving them belly rubs this whole time… they could have eaten me too…” Deuce looks at his own hands in horror. Meanwhile Ace was cursing at the sky, and Cater was swiping through his photos he took of you.

Savanaclaw

Leona let out a loud snort when he saw Grim squirming around and getting dragged by a larger, fluffier cat then him. He had to cover his mouth to hide his smirk that threatened to break across his face.

You decided to try your luck in Savanclaw in hopes maybe Leona would help you out. He was in his third year after all!… even though he’s been held back a few times already due to being lazy and not giving a damn. Either way, you hope the lion beat-man can help.

“Prefect! Stop dragging me! You are the henchman, and I am the great mage! I should not have to be treated like this! And what was that from earlier! Why did you eat him?!”

Leona was on his way out to the botanical gardens to nap and get away from his noisy dorm. Now, he is more interested in what the hell is going on.

“Oui, Grim… who’s your new friend? Did you finally get a parent figure to treat your spoiled hind?” Leona couldn’t help tease the dire-beast as he strode over to the two of you.

When you spotted Leona making his way over to you, you casually dropped Grim off. When he was released, Grim immediately ran and hid behind Leona.

“Oui, what do you think you're doing? Get off.”

“No way! I ain’t getting close to the Prefect, after they turned into that… that thing!”

Leona looks over at your new fluffy body…

You were currently grooming one of your paws and rubbing it against one of your kitty ears.

“You turned the Prefect into a harmless house cat?”

“They ain’t a normal house cat! Nor are they harmless!”

As you were cleaning yourself, you felt a hand grab you from the nape of your neck and pulled you up. Leona held you in front of him and sniffed you… just by your scent alone he was able to confirm it was indeed you. But there was also something off with your scent, something unnatural…

“Housewarden Leona!” Leona pulls you away from him and glances over to where the voice came from, noticing Jack and Ruggie making their way over to him. Ruggie was currently eating a donut that Jack offered him just a while ago. He was even going to offer some to Leona.

“Ah, what’s with the fuzz ball?” Ruggie glances over at you and then see’s Grim hiding behind Leona’s leg, taking a bite from his guilty treat. “And what’s got you so spooked?”

“Leona, is that the prefect?” Jack speaks up.

“You smell them too, right? Yeah it’s them. Putting two and two together, I’m guessing Grim messed up some sort of potion.”

“I didn’t mess anything up!” Grim tries to protest as he looks up at Leona.

Ruggie snickers as he goes to take another bite from his donut… he never got the chance.

You lick your chops, eyes focused on the pastry in Ruggie’s possession. He noticed your intent a second too late, unable to protect his treat as you collect it like picking up a mug before swallowing it whole via tentacle.

Everyone went quiet.

You let out a small burp.

“MY DONUT!”

“THAT'S WHAT YOU'RE CONCERNED ABOUT?!”Jack yells at the Hyena beast-men. “Did you not see what shot out of the Prefect's mouth?!”

“See? See?! I told you!” Grim points his paw at you while looking up at Leona. Meanwhile the Dorm Leader wasn’t sure on what to do in this situation.

Sensing how Leona was unsure what to do, you decided it was time to go.

When you began to approach Grim, he took a step back. “Mrah! You stay away, Henchmen!” Ah, so he was gonna be difficult…

Before Grim was going to protest once more, a single tentacle shoots out of your mouth and grabs him. All three of the Savanaclaw students just watched in horror as you gobbled up Grim.

And went on your merry way.

“… I think I’m just gonna go take a nap in my room.”

“I’m suddenly not hungry anymore…”

“… shouldn’t we go after them?!”

Both Ruggie and Leona walk away from Jack. Not that concerned about what happened, or want to be part of it.

Octavinelle

“Jade?”

“Yes, Azul?”

“Can you explain to me why there is a cat sitting on the lounge bar?”

You sat upon the bar, lounging without a care in the world. When you left Savanaclaw, you hoped that maybe Azul would help out. Unfortunately Jade found you and decided to give you chin scritches.

You really enjoyed those.

Right beside you was a bowl of water and a small plate of cooked mushrooms that Jade really wanted you to try out. He wanted to see if cats could really eat mushrooms. Since you weren’t fully a cat, they should be fine… right?

“I found them in the dorm, they looked so hungry and lost… and I couldn’t just let them be.”

“… so you decided to feed them mushrooms…”

Jade smiles as he watches you sniff your plate before digging in. He’s been watching you eat the Turkey Tail Mushroom for 20 minutes now. This was actually your second plate, and Jade was more than pleased when he saw you scarf down the first.

“These mushrooms better not be harmful! I don’t want a dead animal to scare off our customers.”

“Don’t worry, these types of mushrooms are nonlethal to both dogs and cats.” Jade assures Azul as he gently pets your head, causing you to lean into his touch and purr. Azul only squints his eyes at you, placing his hand on his chin as he comes up with an idea.

“Why don’t we use them to lure in some customers? They seem well behaved.”

Just when you heard Azul say that, you sat up and jerked your body a bit. Azul panics, thinking the worst. “Jade, you said those were nonlethal!” The dorm leader looks at Jade, who looked just as confused as they watched you make coughing sounds and your body jerking.

Then you spit out a large hairball.

A hairball that shouldn’t come out of a cat.

Jade and Azul step back as they just stare in shock as Grim was laying on the lounge's bar face down, covered in saliva.

You went back to eating.

Grim lets out a gasp like he’s been holding his breath the whole time he was inside your dimensional body. He was able to breathe just fine, he didn’t have to be so dramatic.

Drama queen.

“Grim?! What in Sevens?!”

“FIX THEM!”

Grim scrabbles to Azul, only for the Octo-mer to back away from the slimy dire-beast.

“I don’t care if I have to sign a contract! Just fix the Prefect!”

“Oya~? Is that the prefect?” Jade looks in amusement as he watches you finish another plate of mushrooms. Maybe he should have given you something… better to eat.

Azul pushes his glasses up as he glances over to you. Grim didn’t turn you into some type of house cat… no, this was more weird than that.

“Eeh~ What’s with the kitty cat?” Before Azul was able to come up with a good idea to turn you back… and to scam Grim… Floyd walked into the lounge.

You looked over at the eel twin and saw his smile widen as he began to approach you.

Red alert!

Danger!

Activate distraction!

Your body starts jerking again and you cough off something much larger. Something more human like…

Floyd stops in his tracks as he watches you cough up a slime covered Riddle. The poor redhead was staring up at the ceiling, his eyes filled with horror and disbelief.

At least he’s more calm now.

Floyd bursts out laughing as he sees Riddle, the laughter causing him to snap out of it and to finally take in his surroundings. Jade was intrigued by events that were unfolding. Azul stared in horror at the slime that was getting all over the lounge floor, wondering if it would stain at all.

Distraction successful!

You take this as your cue to leave, this time not even bringing Grim with you.

“H-hey! Prefect! Get back here!” Azul chases you as soon as you see an opportunity to escape the Ocavinelle dorm.

As you run, all you hear behind you is Floyd laughing at Riddle's misfortune, and Riddle trying to inform Jade on what’s happening with you.

Scarabia

“Jamil! Jamil, look!”

Jamil was currently finishing up the dishes when he heard Kalim come running into the dorm's kitchen. He lets out a sigh, mentally preparing what Kalim was going to show him. When he turned around to face the dorm leader, it wasn’t as bad as he was expecting it to be.

Kalim was holding you out to Jamil, showing you off to his best friend. You slow-blink at Jamil who only stared at you with indifference. When he looks up at Kalim, he just expresses how unimpressed he was.

“I found this cat trying to get into the dorm!”

“… and you just let them in?”

“They might be hungry and are trying to look for food!” Kalim smiles as he changes his position on holding you, now cradling you in his arms.

You weren’t hungry after your mushroom meal, but you were thirsty. Thankfully, Jamil was able to pick up on that and began to prepare of bowl of water for you. Right as he laid it out for you, Kamil was more than happy to put you down right in front of the bowl.

“Can we keep them?”

“Kalim, you don’t need a pet cat. And it would be a terrible idea to keep them in the dorm. Look how thick their fur is, they would overheat, I wouldn't be too surprised if you hadn’t found them, they would have blacked out.”

Jamil's words caused Kalim to deflate just a bit, but he was able to bounce back up. “What if we find them a new home? That way they would be taken care of and be comfortable!”

Jamil already felt a headache starting to form.

In the corner vision, you see something scitter across the kitchen counter. You lick your lips as you pick your head up the water bowl and zeroed in on the small bug…

It was a harmless beetle.

But you knew for a fact that Jamil wouldn’t think so.

When the vice house warden saw your attention drawn away from the water, he looked at what you were staring at… only to tense up when he saw the beetle.

“Kalim…”

“I see it! Don’t worry, I got it!” Kalim was more than happy to help. The sweet sunshine child went to grab a napkin and a glass cup. When Kalim retrieved his items, he turned towards the beetle and slowly began to approach the counter.

But this wasn’t just any type of beetle.

This bitch had wings.

As soon as Kalim made his first step, the thing spread its wings out and started to take off. The house warden let out a startled yelp, and Jamil was ready to scream bloody murder as he grabbed his magic pen.

As much as you would have loved to enjoy this little chaotic show, you didn’t want to be in the crossfire between Jamil and his magic.

Before any spells were casted, you opened your mouth and a large tendril slipped out and grabbed hold of the beetle, and just as quickly… you drew it back in and swallowed the thing.

Like a frog.

Both Kalim and Jamil stared down at you; the silence in the room felt loud.

“Oh! Thank you very much!” Kalim put down his items and picked you up, raising you above his head and spun around. “You wanted to help, didn’t you? That’s so sweet!”

“Kalim! That’s not an ordinary cat! Did you not see what just happen?!”

“I’m gonna name you Froggy!”

You only let out a small burp as Kalim gave you your new name, swaying you side to side.

Jamil was starting to feel that headache. Just when he was about to protest about Kalim keeping the ‘cat’ again, a familiar voice made its way into the Scarabia kitchen.

“Ah, te voilà, trickster!” Rook walks in the kitchen with ease as he strode over to Kalim who was still holding you. Kalim beams as he sees the Pomefiore Vice house warden. “Rook! What a surprise!”

Jamil took you from Kalim and presented you to Rook. “I’m guessing you're here for… this… please take them away from here.”

“Oh, why thank you! Word has spread that the Prefect has turned into an alien-like cat, and I thought it was a perfect opportunity to take them to Roi du Poison.”

“THAT’S THE PREFECT?!” Jamil yells as his headache comes in at full force.

“Oui! I must go now! So thank you!” Rook doesn’t explain anything else as he whisks you away from Scarabia.

Kalim and Jamil just stand there in the kitchen, processing the quick retreat the vice Housewarden of Pomefiore made.

Jamil rubs his temples “ … I’m going to my room and taking a nap.”

“Ah, I’ll get the washcloth.”

Pomefiore

“CUT!”

Vil’s sharp voice echoes throughout the courtyard, making everyone in the Film Club stop what they were doing.

The Film Club was currently doing a short sci-fi horror scene. Vil wanted to give himself and his club members a challenge since sci-fi and horror isn’t their usual go to genre for filming. Thankfully, Ortho and Epel are helpful for stirring them in the correct direction.

“We’ve filmed this scene over and over… yet I feel like something is lacking in this… alien…”

Everyone looks over at one of the actors who was dressed up like a snake-mix-octopus-mix-crocodile.

The actor only gave Vil a little wiggle with his costume.

“Your acting is good, but the costume… I feel like I’m looking at a child's drawing come to life. Where did we get this costume again?”

“This was actually hand made…”

“So it is a child’s drawing come to life… truly a nightmare,” Vil lets out a sigh as he walks over to Ortho to go over the footage they captured. Epel was sitting off to the side to watch how everything was going.

“Roi du Poison!” Members of the Film Club looked over to see Rook. He was practically skipping over to Vil while holding a super fluffy cat. “I have found you an alien!”

Vil blanks as Rook presented you to him. You couldn’t help but slowly blink at Vil and meow at him. He didn’t look all that impressed by seeing you.

“This is a cat, Rook.”

“Oui!”

“Why, in the sevens, would this be an alien? It just looks like an ordinary cat you would find off the street.”

You were more than just a street cat!

Rook was already sensing you wanted to show off that you weren’t just some simple cat, so he took an apple out from under his hat.

Vil was ready to question him before Rook tossed it in the air.

You zeroed in on the fruit and opened your mouth, allowing the tentacle to zip out and take a hold on the apple, and bring it back to you. Students in the Film Club let out a scream as they witnessed the slimy appendage come out of your mouth. Vil didn’t really respond, but he begins to think on how to put you in the movie now.

“House Warden Vil! You have to let them in the short film!” Epel shouts enthusiastically.

“Are they trained?”

“Even better! It's actually the Prefect!” Rook smiles as he announces it was really you.

You nod to confirm it was, and that you understood what was going on.

Vil smiles as he claps his hands together, pleased with the new addition to his short film.

And that’s how you got to be the alien in Vils New Short Film. At first the Club members were a bit weary, but upon learning that you were the Ramshackle Prefect, they fully accepted you instead of just some weird cat Rook found.

Ortho kept staring at you in pure awe when the actors went to the scene to reveal the part of the alien. You let out a hiss and revealed the bunches of tentacles and tendrils, just a cluster of horrors.

Every moment when filming was over, Ortho kept doing scans over your new body. The results he kept getting back were quite curious.

You didn’t turn into an ordinary cat. And Ortho was intrigued by this, even going as far as to send his brother the scans and data he was collecting.

One of the scenes that the club needed to capture was when one of the characters gets taken away from the alien. And you happily delivered it.

By gobbling up your fellow Night Raven Classmate.

Members from the club screamed in horror from behind the scenes as they watched the poor victim be taken away in one gulp. Vil had absolutely no words to say as he watched you target the next sad victim.

“Rook, you mentioned to me offhand that they’ll be ok, right?”

“Oui! The Prefect has taken both Roi de Roses and Monsieur Fuzzball and spit them out in safe conditions!”

Vil raised an eyebrow as he stared at his vice Housewarden, “Define, in your words… ‘Safe conditions’.”

Just when Rook was going to answer Vil, you came padding along.

Then you coughed up the club members.

Both actors just laid there on the ground, looking absolutely wrecked. Meanwhile you just started cleaning yourself.

The Pomefiore Housewarden looked at his own club members with absolute disgust seeing them covered in questionable slime and saliva. “Both of you, shower… Now!” That seemed to have snapped the two members out of their small daze as they scrambled to get up and head to their dorms to freshen up.

“Vil Schoenheit,” Both Vil and Rook turn to see Ortho hovering towards them. “If it’s ok with you, after doing today's scenes, can I take the Prefect? I’ve been doing scans and collecting data on them. I got a message from Idia and he wants to check on them.”

“Well, Idia is more then welcome to have them. We are done for today anyway.” Vil glances over to you.

You were innocently laying on your back waiting for your next victim to pet your tum tum.

“The shots we’ve collected are better than I expected them to be. Prefect,” you pick your head up and look at Vil. “You did fantastic today.”

You slowly blink at him and begin to purr.

Ortho giggles as he moves over to you and gently picks you up. “Come on, Prefect, I’m going to take you to big brother. He’s quite curious about what you turned into… and he wants to play with you.”

You let out a small mew as you let Ortho float away with you. Vil waved Ortho goodbye as he looked over the footage, pleased with the results they got.

Ignihyde

“Wehehehe~ Prefect you have such soft toe beans~” Idia happily let you sit in his lap as he played with your tiny cat paws, he was even taking photos of you from all angles. You didn’t mind, you just sat there peacefully with your eyes closed and your tongue sticking out just a bit.

Ortho giggles as he secretly records his brother playing with you. It was too cute! Plus, their mom has been asking how Idia has been doing, and Idia has been dodging her questioning and all that. Now, Ortho can have something to send to her.

“The Prefect seems to be enjoying themselves, brother! It’s said that cats stick their tongue out when they want to be playful or are relaxed.” Ortho casually mentions the fact as he does another scan over your body. He floats over to Idia and shows him the x-ray scan of your body.

“There’s… no bones.”

“And I don’t seen a stomach anywhere, though I am detecting lots of tunnels reaching to different places.”

“Pocket dimensions,” Idia picks you up, holding you from under your front arms. “Wehehe~ you're an ultra find, Prefect. Like an SSR+ find!” Idia gets off his bed and places you in his gamer chair.

You blink at him with your tongue still out as you relax fully into the soft leather. You watch as Idia taps a few times on his hologram keyboard, pulling up photos from your acting scenes and the x-ray scans Ortho took.

“You can still understand what I’m saying, right? You didn’t turn into just a kitty cat with a smooth brain, right?”

You huff at that and fully sit up, meowing at Idia and flicking your paw at him as if saying “get on with whatever you're gonna say”.

“Perfect. Now, I’m gonna show you what you are… because you look like a cute kitty cat, but that’s your character armor. What you really are-,” Idia motions to his monitor, showing the x-rays. “-is a fleshy alien thing that looks like a large parasite crammed into your cat-like body.”

You stare at the X-ray certain of yourself. It should be concerning really, because how the hell did you turn into that thing? Just a few hours ago you were human, and now you're some type of… alien? Parasite?

Either way you look sick as fuck.

“You don’t seem to be that freaked out,” Ortho floats over to you.

To show you weren’t that troubled by it, you opened your mouth and let out a collage of tentacles. One shoots out to grab Idia’s opened bag of chips, causing the older Shroud to yelp. You bring it back to your mouth and fully consume it, spitting the plastic bag out when you were done with it.

“… make yourself at home I guess.”

“Ah! So you do have a stomach! I can see you digesting the chips!” Ortho exclaimed excitedly.

Ortho sends the X-ray video of you digesting the chips to Idia, making it pop up on one of the monitors. You watched with curiosity. Some would find it disgusting but for you- you just thought it was interesting seeing how your new body functioned.

“Now, I hope you don’t mind if we can do some tests on you, Prefect.” Idia begins putting on his lab gear, carefully watching your reaction.

Ok. Sure. Running some tests wasn't that big of a deal. You weren’t in a rush at the moment, and you were curious about what you are.

That all changed when you saw something that looked like a needle.

Before you had time to back away, Ortho picked you up. And you started yowling, trying to get out of his hold.

“Ah! Prefect, what’s wrong?” Idia turns to see his younger brother struggling to hold you, clearly confused on what got you all fussy.

“Ortho! What happened?!”

“I don't know! They just started acting up!”

Using the wonderful power of cat physics, you're able to escape from the younger Shroud’s hold. Your first instinct was to head towards the door… unfortunately it was closed and you didn’t know how to open doors with your toe beans.

Idia slowly approaches you from behind as you try to find another escape route. Idia then takes the chance to dive down to get you, but you dodge him and begin to scurry around the room. You run from one side to the other, hopping on Idia’s bed and then to his shelf with his Action figures.

“Prefect! You're gonna get hurt!”

“MREOW!” You run across the shelf, knocking down the figurines and making Idia freak out.

“NO! Those are limited edition!” You didn’t listen to Idia’s screams as you practically knocked off every single one of his figurines. You look around trying to find a way out of his room, and that’s when you saw it-

The vent!

A tentacle shoots out from your mouth as you rip the grate off the ceiling. You cast the grate in the general direction of Idia, hearing the sound of what remains of the merchandise fall to the floor. And Idia loud pitch shriek.

You hop onto another shelf and use another tentacle to give you leverage as you swing yourself into the vent. You left Idia and Ortho alone in the room.

Take that! No needles today!

Idia just looks at the mess on his floor, not really sure where to start. Ortho just floats over and pats him on the shoulder, knowing that his older brother was mourning the loss of several of his collectibles.

Diasomnia

When you were able to escape from Idia’s clutches, you immediately went to Diasomnia.

This should have been your first pick! Horton would be happy to help you!

When you entered through the mirror you went straight to the dorm lounge room, ignoring students in the process as they stopped to stare at the fluffy cat walking the halls. Some even tried to pet you or greet you, but you were on a mission!

Being this alien cat was all fun but now, it’s best to go back to living life like a normal human.

“Strange, what’s a cat doing here?” You were ready to ignore the student like you did the others, but this one was quick enough to pick you up.

You were ready to swat at them but stopped when you recognized them. Sebek held you from under your arms as he scrutinized you. “How did you get into Diasomnia?” He asks, and all you do is meow at him.

“No matter! I heard earlier that Master Lilia and Waka-sama were looking for a fluffy cat. Perhaps they were referring to you.”

“Mrew.” Yes! Take me to Horton!

Sebek positions you into a better way where he cradles you into his arms. You start purring immediately, which causes Sebek to stutter. “C-cease your purring! I’m just taking you to Waka-sama and then I'm putting you down!”

No complaints there!

Sebek begins to walk you over to the dorm's lounge room. And you couldn’t help yourself so you started batting at his tie. A few times Sebek scolds you, but doesn't have the heart to stop you.

Oh he would lose his head if he learned it was you, the prefect.

“Ah! Sebek, my boy! You're back, and it seems like you brought a friend!” You perk up hearing Lilia’s voice.

You see Lilia and Malleus sitting on the couch in the lounge, Silver pouring them tea and himself a cup as well. Lilia’s eye practically sparkled when he saw you, vibrating on the spot with excitement.

Oh no.

He knows.

“So you found the Prefect, good work Sebek.” Malleus praises Sebek as he takes a sip of his tea.

Sebek though stopped in his tracks. He was happy to be praised by his young master! But learning that it was you that he was cradling this whole time…

He drops you without thinking.

Silver was ready to take his pen out and have you land safely on the ground, but you landed perfectly fine on all fours.

Thanks to your cat-like reflexes.

“P-prefect?! Why didn’t you say anything?!” Sebek yelled at you. You only give him a glare and start batting at his foot, basically telling him you weren’t happy for the fact he dropped you!

Lilia starts cackling watching the exchange between the two of you. When you were done with fighting Sebek’s shoe, you began your walk over to the couch where everyone seemed to be resting and hop on the coffee table.

You don’t stay there for long until Lilia scoops you in his arms, twirling you around like Kalim did. “Ah! You're just so cute now, Prefect!”

Is he saying you weren’t before?

In response to that, you place your paw on his nose, causing Lilia to laugh more. Malleus hums as he watches, Silver on the other hand was starting to doze off after he took one sip from his tea.

“How long has it been since you transformed, child of man?” Malleus asked as he placed his own teacup and saucer on the coffee table.

You try thinking about how long it’s been. It had to be no more than several hours, right? Then again, you did notice how it was getting darker in the Diasomnia dorm. Didn’t you drink that potion this morning???

“Based on your silence, it’s been a whole day.” Lilia nods to his own conclusion as you try wiggling out of his hold.

A whole day?! Nope! You gotta change NOW!

“Fear not my dear friend,” Malleus gets up from his place from the couch and makes it way over to you and Lilia. Lilia smiles as he holds you out to Malleus.

“Meow?”

“As cute as you are in this form, I would prefer to have my best friend back to normal.” And with that said Malleus places his hand on your head, letting a bright green light come from his hand.

In a blink of an eye, you turn back to normal…

With Lilia still holding you up by under your arms.

“I like to be put down now…”

“Aw, but I’m still having fun!” You let out a shriek as Lilia spins you once again. Malleus couldn’t help but let out a laugh as he watched the two of you.

Silver was fully asleep now, and Sebek only stared at his hands in horror.

“I was cradling them the whole time in their cat form…”

“Were they ever truly a cat though?” Sebek whipped his head to look at Silver who spoke in his sleep.

Nobody truly understood what you were. What you turned into it.

All they hope is that it never happens again…

“Oh gods, my stomach…” you were back in Ramshackle, laying in your bed and holding your stomach. You were feeling such immense pain after leaving Diasomnia. You did eat a lot of things today in that other form, and spitting stuff out as well.

Grim was currently pouring you a glass of Bubble Soda, and set down some crackers by your nightstand… not without swiping some first. “Mrah, Silver told me this would help you with your tummy ache. How you should still eat something along with the medication he gave.” Grim hands you the packet he got from second year.

God bless Silver. Lilia did cook horrible meals, so it made sense Silver would have these on hand.

You thanked Grim as you popped a pill into your mouth and slowly drank the soda Grim messily poured.

He tried.

“I’m really sorry about today… it’s my fault you turned into some weird cat thing…” Grim apologized awkwardly as he sat at the edge of your bed.

You let out a huff and grab the dire beast by the scruff of his neck, making him yelp in surprise as you wrap your arms around him.

“I forgive you, Grim. Don’t sweat it that much, ok? You didn’t know, and you made a mistake, it happens! So don’t beat yourself over it.”

Grim whines from your hug but lets you awayway, wrapping his paws around your neck to hug you back. You also promised yourself that night that you were going to double check everything before you consume it.

Can’t have you turning into an alien cat thing again…

Unless to torture Crowley, then you would be down to do that.

[purinfelix]

walking 'cross the campus - n. riki ⋆˚࿔

summary: one too many drinks lands you in the arms of a handsome stranger, who you suddenly end up confessing to - but given that you've never met before, it shouldn't be too big a deal, right? ─────── college au niki x reader || warnings: alcohol, reader being a sappy and kinda cringey drunk, fluffy awkwardness, tension || w/c: 2.5k

a/n: i fear the Niki brainrot is taking over me lately (blame my younger sister whos a niki bias and who has just been influencing me LOLLL) also not that anyone gafs but i actually had this fic idea for a formula one driver originally but never finished it so i recycled it .... hope u guys enjoy !!!!

Maybe this party hadn't been a good idea.

It had certainly seemed like it a couple of days ago when you'd decided to go, despite the assignments and readings piling up on your never-ending to-do list. Even a couple of hours ago, when you were there and enjoying yourself quite a bit, it hadn't seemed too bad an idea. But now, as you heard back to your dorm, barely able to keep your head up or your eyes open after enjoying yourself a little too much, you were starting to regret your decision

And it didn't help that you were being carried bridal-style by the most attractive guy you'd seen all year.

"What did you say your name was again?" you slurred, trying your best to stay awake in his arms.

"Niki," he says, his voice deeper than you were expecting, "though I doubt you'll remember that tomorrow morning." You watch as he chuckles to himself softly, eyes fixed on the stairs he's carrying you up.

"Huh- why?"

"Do you even remember how many drinks you had?"

"I stopped counting after," you unloop your hands from around his neck to count on your fingers, "eight?"

He lets out a small sigh, followed by a shake of his head, as if he's tired of you. But as he does, there's a ghost of a smile tugging at his mouth, almost as if he's trying not to laugh. "And that's if you can even call the shit in those solo cups 'drinks'. You're braver than I am, trusting frat boys with what you put in your mouth."

You let out a quiet hiccup before speaking in a high, giggly tone, "That sounds dirty." As you lay your head back on his broad chest, you can feel him laugh under his breath.

"Is this your floor?"

You nod, despite having absolutely no idea where you are - surely you can trust your past self to have been stupid enough to tell a total stranger where your dorm is, especially one as good-looking as this.

"I won't forget you," you hum happily, fighting the weight of your eyelids to look up at him, though he just looks ahead, brows furrowed as he tries to find your room.

"And why is that?"

"Well, you're so nice for doing this," you pause, a playful smile spreading across your face, "plus, you're not bad to look at, I don't think I could forget a face like this if I tried."

Without thinking, one of your hands comes up to cup his jaw, pulling him to look at you. Without your hands around his neck, his grip on you slips- and it doesn't help that your words, actions, and the sudden eye contact have caught him completely off guard.

"Wh-careful!" He scolds you with a soft hiss as he quickly repositions his hands to keep you upright.

"Oops!" you hic, unable to comprehend just how much of a hassle you're being right now, but still aware enough to catch the pink flush across his cheeks as he lets out a sigh of relief at the sight of the door with your name on it.

"Key?" he asks, somewhat impatiently, and you clumsily fumble around in your pocket for them before slamming them into his open palm. You hear the familiar sound of your dorm door opening and soon, the cool feeling of your plush bedsheets.

"There you go," he hums softly as he lays you down, though your grip on his neck doesn't loosen.

"Hey, mister," you huff through pouted lips.

"Yes, missus?" He replies in a tone that's equal parts amused and endeared, despite how exhausted he must be with you.

"I think..." you pause to reposition yourself, widening your eyes and pulling him close as if to force him to see the earnest expression on your face, "I think I might love you."

You don't have time to hear his response because you're passed out stone-cold the next second, and the only thing you hear is quiet shuffling followed by the soft click of your dorm door shutting.

The next morning hits you like a truck. Hard.

Your head throbs as you peel it off your pillow, and your mouth feels like sandpaper as you let out a croaky groan. You squeeze your eyes shut, lying there for a few moments and slowly, memories from last night trickle in.

Loud music, sticky floors, flashing lights, one drink, two, six - after that, nothing, a complete blank. Though if you try hard enough to can conjure up the faint memory of someone's hands on the small of your back, and yours around their neck.

You try not to overthink it, sitting up slowly and glancing around your room for any signs of damage. Everything looks normal enough, no carelessly thrown clothes or items belonging to anyone other than you.

With a painful stretch, you reach for your phone, which is neatly waiting for you on your bedside table. All it takes is one look at the time to force you out of bed in a rush - class starts in 20 minutes, great.

You do your best to slip into class unnoticed, making a beeline for your usual spot at the back with your hoodie over your head, sunglasses shoved onto your face to protect you from the harsh overhead lights. You think you've succeeded and start to rummage through your bag for your laptop when you notice someone drop into the seat next to you.

At first, you don't think anything of it, but curiosity forces you to attempt to glance at him over the top of your glasses. He's handsome, there's no doubt about it - he has a sort of boyish charm that you can sense from the way he's lounging in the seat, dark hair falling over his sharp features. It almost irritates you how put-together he looks for how early in the morning it is.

Then you realise he's looking right at you, with an amused smirk spread across his face that makes your heart unexpectedly flutter and your stomach twist.

"Rough night?" he asks, his voice deeper than you expected as he gestures to your sunglasses. His eyes don't leave yours, and there's a mischievous glint in them as he speaks.

You blink. "Uhm... yeah?"

He lets out a low laugh, and you can't help but feel like there's something more going on here that you're not quite getting. "You don't remember much, do you?" he drawls through a smile as he leans back, eyes raking over you.

"Should I?"

"Figured," he laughs, low and teasing, instead of answering your question.

You narrow your eyes at him, chewing on your bottom lip as you struggle to place him - he looks familiar, somewhat, but you're sure you'd remember meeting someone like him before. He certainly doesn't have a face you'd see every day around campus, so you're pretty sure you've never spoken to him before.

"I'm Niki," he offers casually, but as he does, a pang of deja vu hits you, and you don't get long to wonder why before he speaks again. "We kind of met last night."

You feel your stomach drop. Kind of?

"You were at the party?" you blurt out in surprise.

"Yeah, you were a mess," he says, the corners of his lip quirking into an entertained smile.

You're unable to hold back from letting out a mortified groan, hiding your face in your hands - partially to hide your blush but mostly because you can't stand to meet his eye right now. "Please tell me I didn't throw up on anyone or anything," you whine out.

"No puke, don't worry," he assures, "but you did need a little help getting home.

You peek at him through a gap in your fingers. "Who by?" you ask, speaking slowly as if you don't really want to know the answer.

He gestures to himself, a smug grin growing on his face. "Yours truly."

"You drove me?"

"Carried," he corrects.

"Carried?!"

"Bridal style, actually, the entire way."

Your eyes almost pop out of your head from how wide you open them, and all he does is tilt his head to get a better look at your reaction to what he's just said - almost as if he's savouring it. "Oh my god," you sigh, "I am so sorry."

"Don't be," he shrugs calmly, bringing up a hand to run through his hair, "you were pretty entertaining compared to that boring party."

"What exactly did I do?" You feel your chest tighten as you ask, wincing at the endless possibilities of ways you might've embarrassed yourself.

"You don't want to know," he scoffs, turning away from you.

"No, I really do," you insist, despite your better judgement telling you that you were probably better off blissfully ignorant.

He leans back in, dropping his voice to a low tone that feels like it's a secret just for the two of you. "Let's just say you were very ... affectionate."

You blink, unsure of how to respond. "Affectionate?" you echo.

"Yep," he says, and it irritates you just how unaffected he seems by all of this. "You told me you loved me, and I have to say it was pretty convincing."

He turns to you, watching with a playful glint in his eye as you struggle to comprehend his words. If he feels bad for teasing you, he certainly doesn't show it, instead continuing with a taunting tone. "Practically begged me not to leave."

You feel your face burn hot with frustration as you furrow your brows. "You're lying," you insist.

"Maybe," he shrugs, "guess you'll just have to trust me."

"Okay, just tell me I didn't, like, cling to you or anything."

He raises an eyebrow, attempting to fight a smile as he speaks. "Define cling."

You let out a guttural groan of embarrassment, pulling your hood down to hide your face again. "I am never drinking again," you sigh dramatically, your voice partially muffled by it.

"Aww, c'mon, I kinda liked that side of you," you hear him taunt, "it was cute."

"I hate you," you huff curtly, flicking back your hoodie to meet his eye, though the pink blush spreading across your cheeks betrays your words.

"That's not what you were saying last night," he chuckles to himself, turning back to his laptop and focusing his attention back to the lecture which, at this point, is almost over. You feel your frustration grow at the sight of him pretending he actually cares about it, as if he hasn't just dropped an earth-shatteringly embarrassing bomb on you.

You try to do the same, to make an effort to show just how much his words aren't affecting you, how totally normal you are about what he's just revealed - or more the thought of what he's still hiding. But you can't. Even as you try to focus on what your professor is saying, you can't seem to comprehend a single word. All you can think about is the boy sitting next to you, about the faint memories you have and how every single one aligns horrifyingly with what he's told you.

You're so lost in these memories in fact that you don't notice him leaning close to you again, not until his low voice hums in your ear.

"You really don't remember anything?"

You jump slightly, turning just enough to catch his eye, which is a lot closer than you're expecting - close enough that you can see the slight hint of worry in his expression. "Not a thing," you sigh curtly.

"That's a shame," he says, clicking his tongue as he shifts back in his seat, flicking his hair in the opposite direction as if to avoid your eye "I was starting to think you meant it." By how exaggeratedly he sighs, you can tell he's meaning to poke fun at you, but the slight waver in his voice betrays him, and instead, you sense just a tinge of disappointment in his words.

"So, what now?" you mumble, shifting awkwardly in your seat, "Do I owe you a thank-you or something?"

He tilts his head back to you, round eyes lighting up despite the rest of his face clearly trying to convey nonchalance. "I wouldn't say no to a coffee."

You narrow your eyes at him, "You're not trying to ask me out, are you?"

He stiffens slightly at your words, but is quick to cover it up before speaking again. "Would you say yes?"

You open your mouth, then close it, unsure of what to say in response. He's caught you off guard for what feels like the millionth time this morning - not by what he's asked, but rather by how not casual he sounds for once. In the time you take to process his question, you get a chance to study him, searching for a sign. One that tells you that he's just messing with you, that this is all an elaborate prank and that the previous night didn't actually happen the way he says it did.

But instead, you get something completely different, something unexpected. You watch as his eyes suddenly flicker away from yours, and he turns his attention to fiddling with the several rings on his fingers, as if he's trying to act like he hasn't just asked whether you'd consider a date with him.

That's when it clicks - he's nervous.

The guy who witnessed you make a total embarrassment of yourself last night, whom you drunkenly confessed to and whom has been doing nothing but teasing you and basking in your flustered responses for the past hour, is nervous.

You're unable to stop your lips from twitching into a small smile at the feeling of the tension suddenly flipping. "Maybe," you answer, trying to mirror his calm tone.

He glances at you again, something flickering across his face that slightly resembles hope, maybe relief, as he bites back a wide smile. "I'll take that."

The lecture finally draws to an end, and you watch as he stands up, grabbing his bag swiftly before turning to you. He's failing at hiding his smirk, but now it lacks the same smug self-assurance you found irritating just a couple of minutes ago, and you swear you see him hesitate for just a second before speaking.

"Think about it," his voice is lower now, almost careful, "and then if that maybe becomes a yes, you know where to find me. Or, I guess, I know where to find you technically."

"That sounds stalker-ish," you scoff.

"Hey, you're the one who told me you loved me."

"Fair," you shrug, resigned. With another low chuckle, he's slipping out of the classroom - but not before sending you one last look, as if his eyes refuse to let yours go. He sends you a lazy grin, one that seems like an affirmation of everything that happened the previous night.

And now you're sitting there, heart beating a little faster than before, head still a little foggy with blurry memories - but not enough to fully miss everything that just happened.

'Think about it.'

You've never really noticed Niki before, not like this, but now with the memory of his low voice in your ear, his teasing gaze on yours and his inability to let you live anything down ever - you're definitely thinking about it.

taglist for ni-ki fics (love u!! <3) : @miniw0nz @microwvdstrawb3rri3s @charsworld96

[mattyriddlesbitch]

please please write about theodore nott getting caught by the reader touching himself to her. then absolutely wrenching her in the his dorm. overtimulation. squirting. round after round.

This one was a lot longer than I originally planned, oops, lol.

Just One More

Theodore Nott x F!Reader

Warnings: mention of masturbation, oral(female receiving), squirting, overstimulation, forced orgasms, unprotected sex, creampie

18+ Minors DNI

You and Theodore had gotten assigned for a project together for potions and were working on it in his dorm. You had called it for the day, exhausted and ready to rest after the long school day and hours working on this project with Theo.

You weren’t extremely close with the boy, but that didn’t stop his attempts to flirt with you and joke around with you whenever he did see you. And you had to admit, you may have developed a small crush on him. He was hot and flirted with you, what else could you say?

You said ‘goodbye’ and left his dorm, heading to your own. You noticed once you got there that you had left your textbook in his dorm and figured you’d just grab it real quick.

But as you were about to knock on his door, you could hear faint noises inside. After a second of listening, you realized the noises were moans. Did he have a girl over? It was just his moans you could hear so probably not.

“Oh, (Y/N), cara mia. Fuck.” You heard coming from the other side of the door.

‘(Y/N)’ Was he really moaning your name? Holy shit.

Before you even realized it, you were knocking on the door. You could hear a quiet cuss escape his lips and some shuffling with a louder ‘Hold on’ coming from him. After a moment, the door opened, and Theo leaned against the door frame before his eyes widened when he saw it was you, quickly turning his expression into a calm one with a flirty smirk.

“Cara mia. What are you doing here? Didn’t get enough of me?” He asked as he looked you over.

“Uh, I forgot my textbook. Though, it seems like you were the one who didn’t get enough of me.” You said, giving him a sweet, innocent smile.

His smirk fell. “What are you talking about?” He shifted slightly, clearly nervous now.

“I kinda heard you. You moaned my name. I was only gone for a few minutes, it seems like you barely waited after I left to, uh, you know.” You said, tilting your head.

“How long were you outside my door, bella?” He asked.

“Long enough.” You shrugged.

He looked at you for a few seconds, like he was pondering his next move before pulling you into the room and closing the door behind you.

“Seems to me like you were enjoying listening in.” He said as he backed you up to the bed.

“Well, it was more like I was surprised, especially once I heard my name.” Your legs hit the bed and you fell on it.

“So you didn’t like it?” He leaned down, putting his arms on either side of you to trap you on the bed.

“I didn’t say that.”

“If you wanted, I could show you more of those sounds now.” He lowered his head to your ear as he spoke quietly. “I could show you what I was thinking about doing to you that was making me moan like that.”

“Very tempting.” You said back just as quietly as him. “How should we start?”

“How about we start by getting these clothes off?” He said as he leaned back and helped you out of your clothes, a bit quickly and desperately. “Fucking hell, principessa. You’re fucking gorgeous.” He said before leaning back down to pepper kisses along your neck, trailing up before connecting your lips. The kiss was heated and hasty, like he couldn’t get enough. He nestled between your legs, his hands roaming along your skin, feeling everywhere. One hand traveled lower until he made it to your folds, groaning into the kiss when he felt how wet you were. He teased your entrance, enjoying the whine from your throat as he started pushing two fingers in you, swallowing your moans once he started thrusting them in and out of you.

He parted from your lips and went back to your neck, kissing and licking his way down to your chest before giving your nipples some attention. Your moans were loud now that you weren’t being muffled by his lips, your back arching into his mouth as he licked and sucked at one of your nipples before giving the other the same attention.

“Fuck, Theo!” You moaned. Your hands were gripping at the sheets, the neat fabric getting wrinkled in your grasp.

Theo moaned against your nipple in response, flicking his eyes up to your face to watch your reaction. He used his thumb to find your clit, rubbing circles on it as your eyes rolled back from the pleasure. It didn’t take much before your orgasm washed over you, making you cry out his name and have your body trembling.

He moved his body to bring his mouth onto your clit, his fingers never stopping inside you. The pleasure was starting to get overwhelming as you wrapped your fingers in his hair, cries and gasps leaving your mouth as he licked and sucked at your clit.

“Theo, please! ‘S Too much!” You whined, trying to pull away from him. His free hand stopped you, wrapping around your hips to keep you in place. “Shit! Oh my fuck!” You cried out from the overstimulation, the pleasure on the brink of being pain.

He wasn’t stopping, forcing another orgasm out of you as you cried and clawed at his scalp, which only made him hiss. He kept going, though. Any hopes of him slowing down or stopping were gone, all you could do was plead and cry. He worked you to another orgasm, this one nearly making you black out as it hit you.

“Fucking hell, cara mia. That was perfect. I need you to do that again for me.” He said and you raised your head to look at him, noticing the drenched sheets beneath you.

“What?” You asked, still dazed.

“I made you squirt. And you’re gonna do that again for me.” He smiled before leaning back down to lick at your clit again.

You whimpered and clung to his hair again, body fighting on if it wanted more or less from him. His arm around you wouldn’t let you decide anyways since it kept you from squirming further or closer to him. He easily brought you to another orgasm like he already knew your body. He helped you through it, not even minding that you soaked him again in your cum.

He finally let you go, standing up to push down his pants and chuck off his shirt before settling back between your legs, bringing them over his shoulders as he started easing his cock into you. You and him moaned together as he bottomed out, giving you a moment to adjust before beginning to thrust. “You take me so well, cara mia. Holy shit. You feel better than I ever imagined.”

Your mind was already blank from all the previous orgasms, no way you could respond other than with the moans and whimpers that left your mouth from how sensitive you were.

“Just one more for me, bella. Cum on my cock for me and we’ll be done. I just need it. I need to feel it.” He rambled, his hips pounding into yours, desperately trying to get both of you to cum.

With how sensitive you were, your orgasm came quickly, clenching his cock and sobbing. He praised you, wiping your tears as he helped ride out your orgasm.

“Sorry, principessa. Just one more. Please, just one more. I promise that’s it.” He said as he kept slamming into you, overworking your cunt.

“I can’t-I can’t, Theo! I can’t!” You cried.

“Just one more. I promise. Just give me one more. Fuck, you felt so good cumming around me, I just need to feel it one more time.” He said, gently kissing your leg on his shoulder.

He forced you into another orgasm before he finally came, filling your pussy with his cum.

“It’s okay, cara mia. We’re all done. You did so good for me.” He rested your legs on the bed and cupped your face, pressing soft kisses on your face.

Taglist:

@jeannie-beannie @yourenogoodforme @mixvchelle @helendeath @evaslytherpuff

@soaked4abby @hpnsfwaddict @mayamonroem @motherfing-stargirl @brittney-121

@dracoslovergirl @littlemadamred @mattheoriddlesbitch @acornacreacure @opheliamalfoy236

Let me know if you wanna be added!

[luvrrszn]

know no bounds

STANFORD!ART DONALDSON x STANDFORD! FEM READER x STANDFORD!PATRICK ZWEIG (18+)

summary your two best friends have zero boundaries—especially when it comes to you

warnings slight nsfw (smut), erm probably a shit ton of challengers inaccuracies, art and patrick r not in love !!!!!!!!!!@#!@#!@

a/n art and patrick are not in love !! there's nothing wrong with two hot people kissing and doing the hankypanky every now and then...right... also there is like little to no mention of tashi for my sanity while writing this also i'm trying out writing with proper capitalisation let's see how it goes lolsies ALSO plzzzz send requests loveya

masterlist

You spend most of your free time with your best friends.

Hanging out in their dorm, or doing your homework in the stands while they had tennis practice.

Wherever they were, you were never far. (more like wherever YOU were, they weren't far......)

There are traces of you everywhere and traces of them everywhere. In your dorm room, your corkboard frame has several pictures of the three of you, and half of your clothes drawers are comprised of Art and Patrick's t-shirts. For some reason, you even have some of Art's textbooks at your table. In their dorm room, your hair ties are everywhere. On the bathroom sink counter, on Art's nightstand, even on Patrick's wrist.

Because the three of you were so close, your bond knew no bounds. or no boundaries.

—

It wasn't unusual for you to hang out in Art and Patrick's dorm room even when they weren't there.

So, it was only natural that when the AC in your dorm room was busted, and the heat was unbearable, you used the spare key they had given you to let yourself into their room. You were sprawled on Art's bed, books open as you finished up your assignment due that week.

At some point, you got stuck on your work. You groaned in frustration, deciding to take a shower and hope that you'd be able to continue once you were done.

And that's exactly what you did. You rifled around Art's drawers of clothes, looking for the comfiest-looking shirt. You beelined towards the bathroom once you finally decided what shirt to wear. You strip, leaving your clothes in a messy, yet neat, pile on the floor.

Humming, you draw the shower curtain shut, and as soon as the hot water hits your back, your entire body relaxes. You reach for your shampoo on your shelf (yes!! you have a shelf!!), but clumsily drop the bottle on the floor with a loud smack. That's why you don't hear the jingle of keys as Art (or Patrick,...but probably Art) opens the door, or the two consecutive thuds as both Patrick and Art drop their tennis duffels on the floor.

So just imagine your surprise when the shower curtain gets pulled open and Patrick steps in behind you. You squeak and your hands immediately move to cover yourself as you exclaim "What the fuck!"

Patrick is smirking as he replies, "Aw c'mon, I need to shower. Plus, it's nothing I haven't seen before." (another story for another time)

You start to move aside so Patrick can get under the water, but he stops you by wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face in the curve of your neck. You're used to something like this coming from Art, but Patrick?

"Hey, you okay? Bad day?" You ask, voice soft.

"Real bad," He whispered back, pressing soft kisses against your neck.

"Well, maybe I can help." You whisper as you turn to face him, and slowly drop to your knees.

With zero hesitation, Patrick's fingers tangle in your hair, his thumb pressed against the side of your cheek. He's already hard, beads of precum dripping out of his tip. No matter how many times you've seen little Patrick Jr., which is in fact anything but little, you always have to take a moment to even adjust to the sight of it.

Outside the bathroom, Art groans in annoyance, mumbling something under his breath about "noisy friends" and "not sharing the joy".

Oops.

—

"the fucking ac in my room is busted again !!! i'm coming over :')"

You sent Art a quick text before making your way over to their room. You curse under your breath, why on earth was your room always in shambles?

You made a mental note to feedback to maintenance as you let yourself into the boys' room. Art and Patrick are sitting on Art's bed, backs against the wall as they watch a movie on Patrick's laptop. Patrick's in nothing but his boxers, and Art is shirtless in shorts.

"Hey, I just saw your text. Our AC's busted too." Art says, offering a sympathetic smile. You notice two fans blowing in their direction and decide you just have to enjoy the breeze too.

Art scooches over to make room for you, and you rest your back against his chest, with one of his arms around your shoulder and the other splayed across your stomach.

After a while, the heat becomes almost unbearable, so you decide to just take off your shirt.

You don't miss the way both boys' eyes dart to your chest, but it's truly just too hot to care.

[melled42]

Idk if this is a huge request or not, but could you explain more about Bell? (The shitten in your au)

I would be thankful, take care.

Yeah, ive done like... 3 pieces of her max but she gets SO many asks lol. the story isn't really ready for her yet, and i'd like to finish what im working on before i do more with her, but i'll give the basic rundown.

she LITTERALY started as a joke baby post but she got so much interaction i said i'd expand on her design and now she seems to just have a following of simps (oops, like lamb like daughter)

most of the old ideas for ewen and nari with her are out of date now on the art, but heres a bunch of plot and some unposted sketches under cut

Nari and Ewen are married and leading the cult still. all the siblings have kids, grandkids and even great grandkids (excluding shamura). Its only after they decide having a child is someone for them to love and raise, not someone who they're forcing the cycle of trauma on that they have Bell. And they adore her. While growing up, one by one, the former bishops, all her aunts, uncles, and shamura decided it was time to peacefully end their long lives. So she sees death as a good thing, the satisfying end to a long life story. So when Ewen and Narinder are ready to die together, even though they say she doesn't have to, she takes on the crown and ends if for them with a last "i love you" between them. She runs the cult now which is more themed around their shared neck wound "rings" and their relationship than just the lamb. She's called "the black sheep" by her followers (or queen if they're kinky, princess when shes younger). she wields the crown as a pair of horns and a sythe, sine the cult of the black rings also referenced Ewen's large black horns and she keeps up the theme.

Baal and Aym are her "brothers" (more of her body guards and technically her cousins but she refuses to call them anything else) and her body guards, staying after their master's death. They've known her since she was a baby and still treat her as one sometimes. She's VERY protective over them, but also will bully them sometimes, like kicking their asses when training and saying they're just going easy on her like when she was a kid, knowing full well she's overpowered by the crown.

Because shes such an oddity, the mystic seller assigned one of their followers to keep an eye on her and, much like her "ba ba" she found the overpowered demigod shes now obsessed with. With some help from Ewen before they passed, they were able to translate their glyphs. Now that helper follows her around disguised as a poor imitation of a regular mortal to better understand her and the mortal realm. Or at least thats what she convinced them to do since she wants them around <3 probably not to their masters liking lol. I haven't decided on a name yet. Bell eventually give them the purple crown (they/it)

Before they left, Narinder was trying to reawaken the crowns, whether for the memory of his siblings, or that the cult was growing too large to be centered on the red crown. They're not very powerful right now and Bell is the leader of the others, more like a babysitter.

The blue crown is with Kalliope (kalli for short) (she/her), a distant relative of Kallamar's who had to fight, both physically and socially, with all her other of age relatives to get the chance, since Kallamar's polycule made a LOT of kids and grand kids. She's kind of bitchy about it and whines about everyone not respecting her or how hard she worked. shes a flamboyant cuttlefish and trans femme. also the crown is worn like an earring. Bell has little tolerance for her and they have a lot of bitchy girl fights.

The green crown is with isop (a kinda combo of isopod and aesop) (he/him) who is a rubber ducky isopod. he's Leshy's great great grandkid, and really only god the crown because no one else on the peaceful forest farm leshy put together in his later years really wanted it and figured it meant free babysitting. he's pretty young and small with a fascination for chaos and violence that only little kids without developed social perception can have, though he more watches at this point. The others tend to carry him or he rolls around in a little ball. The crown is worn like glasses.

The orange crown is with Mycelia (lia for short) (they/them plural) who is a homunculus mushroomo made through experimentation by Heket and Sozo before they died. they're the only one who is actually older than Bell. They're undying because they're a hive mind of all the mushroomo, who have been progressively growing. They can see everything the others see, can spout new bodies when needed and even feed on their own dead bodies. Bell sometimes just kills them when they're frustrated with them or other things. They'd be a threat but they're very monotone and emotionless about pretty much everything and don't care. They've worked with the red crown just because death is a natural boon to fungus and keeps them alive. The orange crown is worn as a necklace.

Heres some sketches since I haven't been able to get the designs to my liking but people keep asking so :T