#reader you lucky bastard

[narcissarina]

𝔊𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔢𝔫 ℭ𝔞𝔤𝔢, 𝔅𝔩𝔲𝔢 𝔅𝔬𝔫𝔡𝔰

જ⁀➴Previous chapter

Pairings: bodyguard!Leon × college billionaire!reader

Word count: 2,260

Tw: This chapter is just all smut🧍‍♂️ (hardcore, daddy kink, safe word but never used, call while fucking, crying, dom!leon, crying reader, pulling out method, creampie on the stomach—not inside, cry about it/j. imagine writing 2.2k words with only smut lmfao)

Summary: After the training, Leon made his moves and manhandles you in bed while in a call with your father. Be sure not to make any noises. 🧍‍♂️

𝚅.

You squirm to his touch, his weight on you as you whine for him to get off. “Leon…” his name left from your pretty little lips, “I’m here…” he spoke softly, his breath tickling against your skin. He place soft kisses from your neck, nibbling then biting hard.

You jolt, like the electricity went through your body. Soft choked moans got out, he growls—sucking your skin, his hands travel down to the curve of your waist, holding your hips down and drawing circle. He sharply inhales and switch to the right side of your neck, placing gentle kisses then to your jaw.

Arousal pool in your underwear, you try to squeeze your legs together but it’s his hips that’s been keeping them apart. His cock screaming from the confinement of his pants, his shirt and jeans felt a little too tight as he use one hand to unbutton two more of his polo and remove the belt from his jeans.

You could feel him as hard as a metal, you grind against his hardness to get some friction. “Please…” you choke, “hm, please what?” he teases, leaning back and pulling your legs to him, “come on, your daddy taught you words, no? Use them, baby.” He coos, leaning down again as his hands found its way to the hem of your sweater and lifts it slowly, finding consent if you wanted this. He easily took it off, you’re wearing lace blue bra, it matches the color of his eyes.

He chuckle at the color and grab your right left tits, “cute.” He mutter, you mewl and support yourself up by your elbow but quickly got pushed down by Leon. “Stay down, princess.” He warns.

He massage and circle around to your perked up nipple, “you like this?” he asked, his tone low and seducing as you desperately nod in response, he grins as he remove the strap and toss the fabric of your chests confinement somewhere in the room as he leans and kisses it first then suck on it.

You jolt and arch your back, softly moaning as you lift your hand and caress the back of his hair. He grins against your chest and gently nibble on your sensitive nipple, making you gasp and choke on your moan, “you still haven’t answer my question, sweetheart.” He hums against your chest, he looks up to see your lewd and pleasing expression.

You nodded but too embarrassed to say the exact words, “come on, baby. Use your fucking words.” He said and gave your ass a slap, then squeezing it. You yelp, “y-yes!” you stammer, he hums as he retreat his mouth from your chest—bruise and red.

He made his way, kissing down from your chest, stomach to your abdomen and your clothed cunt. He brought down your pants that’s been restricting your poor numb, he saw glints of your underwear.

You look down to see what is he eyeing and you feel more arouse when he’s admiring your soaked cunt, “Leon… Stop staring.” He chuckle at your remark, he hums and wrap his finger around the waistband and pulled it down, “hope you don’t mind.” You feel a cold air hit your naked cunt, your legs closing as Leon held it and keep them open.

“Don’t close,” he said, burying his face to your cunt without warning, you groan and let out a pornographic moan as he started to lick your sensitive bud and finger your hole. “oh, god, Leon!” you scream, his nose breathing against your clit, shaking his head lightly so he could give it some friction. Letting your arousal pool down as he tongue fuck and finger fuck you, he could feel you pulse around his tongue.

You grind against his face, chasing your high as you feel a warm and hot feeling from your abdomen—his strong hands keeping your legs apart as much as you want to close it as you come undone, he pulls his face and kept his fingers inside you—working his magic.

You spoke nonsense, a mix of curses and please, “you like that, hm? Naughty princess.” He chuckle and plunge his fingers knuckle deep inside, “fuck!” you curse as you grab a hold of his wrist, trying to push it away but you couldn’t. His hold is too strong and you felt too weak and aroused to even fight it.

“You close, sweetheart?” he asked, you nodded, desperately wanting to come to his fingers coated with your white stickiness. “Such a fucking good girl, you wouldn’t want your father to think that you’re such a whore hm? Panting on my fingers, fucking your bodyguard…” he teased, you feel so hot and bothered, tears starts flowing and coming down your cheeks.

Even if it’s just his fingers, it felt too much and how much you desperately want to finish on his fingers—the sound it makes is so loud as you finally felt near, “yes!” you yelp, but felt the sudden emptiness when Leon pulled his fingers out. “Fuck!” you choke and whined.

You sob at the lost of your release as you watch Leon unzip his pants, pulled it down just to his hip and release the built up frustration of his dick, painfully throbbing as if it was showing its gratitude to be freed from it’s tight confinement.

Your guess was fucking right, he is well-endowed. Fuck, you don’t think it’ll fit.

Leon pumps himself, his head back and softly moaning—gripping to his cock tightly and his hand moving with urgency, he place the tip to your slit. Teasing as he move his hips up and down, bumping to your clit—making you shudder and mewl. He fist his cock again, slap his dick and prepare to force it in, but you quickly grab a hold of his wrist. Swallowing your saliva and your breathing became heavy, you could almost hear your heart pounding.

“Scared?” he asked, you nodded, “I don’t think it’ll fi—” you shudder and screamed when Leon got his tip in and plunged deep into your cunt. Tears flow and drag down to your cheeks, your legs trembling and your insides pulsing and gripping to his cock.

“Sorry, didn’t quite catch that.” He tease, you spout random gibberish words—trying to take his cock in. Your cunt adjusting to his size, like it’s molding to his shape. “Fuck, so tight. Tight as a fucking virgin.” He hiss, “this your first time?” he raised a brow which you obviously nodded quickly in response.

“don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll make sure you got the best cock of your life.” He remarks and slowly retreat, leaving his tip only inside. Then plunging it right in, you hiss with pain and pleasure as his tip is fucking kissing your cervix.

“Fuck, Leon!”

“That’s right, baby. Scream my name, you don’t know how long I wanted to do this so I could fuck the bratness out of you from a few days ago.” He grunts, snapping his hips against yours—knowing completely that it’s your first time and he’s being rough, “I forgot,” grin is spreading from his lips, “what’s your safe word, baby? Tell me…” he asked, you just moaned—too full of his cock hammering your insides.

You asked yourself where the fuck did he get a third leg, “r-r-r…!” you stammer your words, his dick obviously hitting you so good, “speak up!” he plunges deep, making you scream. Grabbing both of your legs and placing them of his shoulders—his hands pulling your wrist, he manhandles you like your pussy is some fleshlight.

Your eyes widens, back arch and toe curling—your gummy walls gripping to his length as you made out a word, “red!” you finally said, Leon hums and pulls to thrust back in gently. “Wasn’t so bad, hm?” he coos, he leans with your legs over his shoulder—your position in a mating press which got you choke and moan loudly, making his length reach deep inside you that you never knew.

“T-Too much…” you sob, “I know, but you can take it.” He encourage—his lips kissing your jaw, softly letting a groan slip from his lips as he thrust inside you, you think he’s giving you a breather after getting fucked like there’s no tomorrow. You close your eyes and mewl at each of his thrust.

His hips angle to certain direction to make you have a reaction, you feel that familiar release again. But he’s moving too slow that it pains you.

“L-Leon…”

“What’s that, sweetheart?”

“M-Move… please.” He grins to your words, “good girl.” He pulls, his hands at the back of your thigh. Your knees reach at each side of your cheeks as Leon starts to snap his hips against you, his balls hitting your anal hole and he’s deep inside. Making you mewl and cry, choking on your moans and sobbing to the pleasure he’s giving you.

“Been such a good girl for me…” he praises, “don’t be a brat again, hm?” he leans and kisses your lashes, you nod, “oh, god yes… Oh, daddy.” Your words made Leon stop, you just pant with sweat rolling down your forehead and how you whine at the sudden stop, “daddy?” he repeat.

“I never knew you’re into that, but I’ll play along.” He chuckles and flop down one of your leg while the other is still almost reaching your ear, “scream for daddy, doll.” He said and resume his brutal pace.

“you”—thrust— “hear”—thrust— “ that?”—thrust—

He asked while thrusting hard each and every word, you feel so sore and a white ring starts to draw from Leon’s length. You cry at the overstimulation that you’re starting to feel, “come on, baby. Come on my fucking dick.” He grit between his teeth, he feel your walls clamp into him tight, he let out a shudder and a soft curse, “oh, fuck…”

You came undone, but Leon is nowhere but finish.

Vrooo—

The sound of Leon’s phone vibrating, a call incoming. Leon took his phone and look at the number, you thought he’ll drop the call but he didn’t. He picked it up and put it beside his ear and resume drilling his length inside of you, making you gasp and choke back a moan. Refraining one word to come out from your lips.

The voice from the other side of the line was familiar since Leon put it on speaker, your heart drop when you learn that the voice is from your father.

“Yes, sir.” Leon hisses, groaning. “It’s nothing, I just bruised myself.” He made up an excuse, but he really is just drilling another hole inside your hole. You covered your mouth with both of your hands, muffling moans every hard thrust Leon makes.

“Your daughter?” Leon turn to you, “yeah, she’s with me.” He grins, you shake your head and begged him to not make you say something to your father, “oh, no. She’s sounds asleep, can’t wake her up or else she’ll kick me out.” He joke with your father, his pace slowing down as his free hand capture two of your wrist. Pulling you close and fucking you to oblivion with nothing to cover your mouth with.

You bit your lower lip, threw your head back and hope for the best that you wouldn’t moan a single thing—just tiny little grunts and sobs, Leon could hear it but it wasn’t loud enough to hear.

Leon put himself to mute and lean down to capture your lips, pulling you in a fiercely kiss. Desperation and lust as he devours your lips whole, you could hear your father venting.

“B-But what about…” Leon hushes you before you could continue, “don’t worry, I made sure to put myself in mute.” He assured and got back to making you come your orgasm the second time, you heard what your father is saying.

“She’s my only child, you know? I am so glad that she’s warming up to you, Leon.”

You moaned loudly when Leon flip you over and plunge deep.

“I know I did something that I shouldn’t have done that made her resent me, I know. I’m a bad husband, but I’m trying to be a better father.”

Your eyes rolling up, too much pleasure that Leon is giving you—you sob and whine at him to slow down and be gentle but he didn’t, he was addicted to what sound your cunt is making when getting fucked by his dick.

“I’m trying to be better… for her.”

There was a long pause, Leon listen to his words but very much focus on pushing you to your limit. “fuck, baby. Daddy’s near.” He hiss, he buried himself to the crook of your neck, making small but fast thrust, making your legs give out and numb. Your tears dry and your voice hoarse from all the screaming.

“Thank you for listening to me talk, Leon. Please, look after my little girl.”

The call ended.

Leon pulled out from your puffy red cunt and fist himself and release himself to your stomach, both covered in sweat and panting for air.

Your eyelids were heavy and you become sleepy, your whole body trembling from the pleasure and your hole clenching to over nothing—but you sure did heard what your father just confessed in a call.

“Sleep well, princess. I’ll take care of you.” Leon assured and kissed your temple.

You close your eyes and nod at Leon’s words, but you do know one thing before diving into your slumber.

That your father is a bad husband, but tries to be a good father.

Next Chapter>>>

[ceruleancattail]

erm, sorry in advance if I break any rules or if I requested when not allowed to or- uh yeah sorry if I fuck up

what if using the tweels as a living way of transport, like hanging of their shoulders with arms wrapping their neck, piggyback, legs around their head as they rest on the shoulders type of beat

(why the tweels..uh..cuz tall hehe)

Aww this was so cute! Don’t worry, you didn’t break any rules hehe. I hope you like this! Thank you for letting me write your request🫶

Carrying their s/o

Floyd x reader, Jade x reader

Do you really have a choice with Floyd?

He’s only too happy to accept your advances, wherever and whenever. Floyd bursts into rambunctious laughter whenever he feels your hands around his torso, your weight press onto him. Your warmth wrapping around his skin like the morning sun’s gentle rays.

Floyd tends to throw you up on his shoulders, jolting you around quite a bit. It makes you yelp, clinging on harder. Pulling yourself closer to him, close enough for you to feel every beat of his heart, every bob of his adam’s apple.

Clutching onto your legs, he’s dashing all around Night Raven College, head throw back. All impish grins and boyish laughter, a bundle of joy. Floyd loves making sharp corners, or stopping with a sharp jerk, laughing at your panic. He’ll glance upwards with a crooked grin, a smug smirk dancing across his lips, eyes alight with mischief.

“Scared, Shrimpy?”

Maybe he’ll even have a little nibble or two, teeth sinking into your thighs. Rows of razor sharp teeth grazing over your skin playfully. A nip has you squealing in surprise, hands fumbling around his upper torso for stability.

Floyd doesn’t mind it too much, Y’know? Put your hands wherever you like, shrimpy.

After all, it’s pleasant having you cling all over him for once.

Jade’s surprised, but he takes it in stride.

Whenever you fly at him, Jade’s arms are snaking around your torso. Lifting you upwards gently, cradling you towards his chest. You could feel his chest tremble, an amused chuckle echoing through his throat.

He rocks you around, sometimes weakening his grip on purpose. It’s fun to watch your eyes widen in fear, to feel your arms rush towards his shoulders, squeezing as tight as they can.

Once you’re all snugly hanging on to him (for your life), Jade tends to coo at you. Lowering his face, poking his nose against yours. Maybe even nibble both of your cheeks, the sharpness of his teeth making you shudder.

Jade will tease you for your frightened little yelps and squirms, laughing away in that deep, rich voice of his. You’re just like a little fish, lost in the sea, wandering into the open jaws of a predator.

You’re lucky it’s his arms that were open, not his mouth. Although Jade won’t lie, taking a bite out of you seems fun. Just kidding, pearl. Don’t get all mad now.

Well, Moray eels were known for never letting their prey go, even in death. Perhaps the same determination could apply to love, no? The ghost of a smirk flickering across his lips, Jade shoots you a playful smile.

Devotion… it’s in his nature. So don’t worry your little head, alright?

He’ll never let go of you, love.

[uhohwhathaveidone]

Hi! This is my first request ever haha and I love your writing. I was wondering if you could do one where Sebastian has just used Crucio on the reader (fem!reader if that’s okay, but I don’t mind!) but they don’t quite recover? And Sebastian takes them back to get help - maybe from Professor Sharp - but the reader mumbles something about having feelings for him as they’re being healed? I can imagine they’d be trying to defend him too seeing as he cast the spell. Just fluffy (and pretty angsty because imaginably the reader would be in a lot of pain). Thank you ☺️

A hurt/comfort? Sign me up!

For You (S.S)

I'm hoping to get more pudding soon, maybe jell-o? Anyway, a hurt/comfort fic where Sebastian has to use the curse on the reader is one of my favourite things, because you don't really know what people feel when they get hit with something like that. But I wrote it, so here's your heads up on broken bones, blood, numbness, pain in general, especially in the head, possible near-death(ehe). Sebastian is very stressed. Sharp is here and he's not happy, what are you two doing? Poor Ominis though :(

You stood with Sebastian and Ominis in front of the inmoving door, discussing how to open it. No matter how hard they pushed or pulled, it didn’t budge. “This is impossible, just look at this place!” Sebastian sighed, motioning to the locked door behind you. Someone had died in here, alone and with no escape. You worried that it would be the three of you to be stuck in there next, never found until someone comes poking their nose into the Dark Arts. Ominis stood in a corner, racking his brain for the answer. “There must be some way, why else would there be a door here?” You asked, walking back over to the dark door, and inspecting it. There was no keyhole, no way to wedge something into its side and pry it open.

You sighed again as you looked over to where Noctua, the person who visited before you, and died, had lay alone, noticing a piece of paper sitting on the ground. You looked at it curiously, crouching down and picking it up. “It says here that she was also trapped here, but there was a way out.” You read, walking over to the door once again as you kept reading. “Even if she was willing, she was alone and wouldn’t be able to use the spell to escape.” Sebastian’s face lit up and walked over to you. “What spell? Surely, she wrote it down.” You nodded, brows furrowed as you read on. Ominis had made his way over, hoping to leave the room as soon as possible. You reached the bottom of the page, eyes widening as you looked up at Sebastian. “Well? What spell?” You read the last line again, confirming what you had read. “Crucio.”

“One of the Unforgivables.” Ominis whispered, backing away. Sebastian furrowed his brow. “Why was she unable to cast it?” You read through the note again, putting the pieces together. “It has to be casted on someone, but not yourself.” Your eyes darkened, knowing that the only way to escape was to hurt someone, and you watched Ominis back away even more. “I won’t be a part of this, I refuse.” He says, returning to his original corner, shaking his head. You looked up at Sebastian, a look of sorrow filled his eyes. “That means one of us will have to cast it.” You nodded sadly, looking down at your feet.

“Cast it on me.” You looked up, shocked. Sebastian stood, his mind made up that he would be the one to go through whatever pain it may be. You shook your head, “Absolutely not. Do you know how painful that spell is? Who knows what will happen!” You argued, crossing your arms. Sebastian shook his head, “Clearly. But do we have any other choice?” You sighed, looking down at your hands. “We have another choice. You could cast it on me.” Ominis looked over, concerned. Sebastian’s eyes widened as he shook his head frantically. “No, I won’t do that.” “You must. Or else we’ll be stuck here until we die.”

“She’s right, Sebastian.” Ominis chimed in. Sebastian scoffed, turning to his friend. “Stay out of this, Ominis. You’re not part of this, remember?” Ominis hung his head, muttering something you couldn’t hear. Sebastian sighed, running a hand through his hair as he paced in a circle. “You won’t cast it?” He asked, looking at you, seemingly pleading with you. You shook your head, determined. “This is crazy. Insane. I shan’t.” “You shall.” Sebastian felt his eyes water, unable to break your determined stare. “You have to do it, Sebastian.” He sighed, walking over to you. “Are you sure?” You nodded, sealing the deal. Sebastian’s gaze softened as he wrapped his arm around you. “I’m sorry.” He whispered. “I know.”

Sebastian stood away from you, readying his wand. You prepare yourself mentally, trying to clear your mind of what you might go through, going through breathing exercises to calm your nerves. Sebastian took a breath in, giving you a look telling you that you could still back out. You nodded, squinting your eyes in preparation as he raised his wand. “Crucio!” You felt a wave of hot air wash over you, seeping into your skin and burning your whole body. You screamed as you dropped to the ground, your legs feeling like jelly as your blood seemingly boiled. It felt as if all your bones had been broken, only to be mended again and broken right after. Each beat your heart made went straight to your head, feeling as if nails were being driven into your skull. Your blood seemed to get hotter the longer the curse went on, lava seemingly coursing through your veins and out your eyes as you wept in pain. You felt as if you couldn’t breathe, the feeling of your lungs being squeezed caused you to gasp for air as you laid on the cobbled ground.

Sebastian stood there, eyes wide as tears slipped down his cheeks as he watched you in horror. Sebastian tried to cover his ears, unable to block out your screams. Sebastian whispers a string of apologies as he kneels, afraid to touch you in case it caused you more pain. Your ears ring as you feel the pain begin to subside, leaving you numb. Sebastian looked up to see the door begin to open, slowly and agonizingly. Red continued to travel along your body as the curse ran its final course, soon dissipating and leaving you there. Sebastian released the breath he was holding, placing a hand on your shoulder, smiling. “It’s over! The door opened!” Ominis walked over, standing beside Sebastian as he shook your shoulder once again. You stayed unmoving, the ringing in your ear causing your head to spin as you tried to gather your thoughts. When you felt that the pain was over, you tried to open your eyes, only to be greeted with darkness. Were your eyes even open?

The feeling felt familiar, as if you had experienced the situation before. You couldn’t move, unable to speak, unable to tell Sebastian that something was wrong. “Hey, come on, you need to get up now!” Sebastian said, his increasing worry turning to dread. Ominis felt his chest tighten, unsure what was happening, only hearing Sebastian as he began to plea with you. “Is she…ok?” He asked, grabbing Sebastian’s shoulder, and guiding himself onto the ground. “Does it sound like she’s ok?” Sebastian snapped, rolling you over onto your back. Panic only rose as he searched for a pulse, finding it as it faintly kept you alive. “The spell isn’t supposed to do this. That’s not how the spell was supposed to work!” He shouted frantically, moving his arms under you and lifting you up. Ominis stood, unsure what to do next. All he could do was dread, uttering a single sentence. “Is she dead?”

Sebastian didn’t respond as he hurried to the door they came in, now unlocked as well, and raced through everything they worked hard to get through. Ominis followed behind, cautious of his disadvantage while trying to keep up. Sebastian didn’t care if Ominis was behind him or not, his mind blurred as he raced his way to the infirmary, desperate to get you help. He turned into a nearby hall, nearly running into Professor Sharp, who looked at Sebastian in shock. “Mr. Sallow, what on earth are you doing?” Sebastian gasped for air, nearly dropping to his near in exhaustion. Sharp quickly noticed the state you were in and took you from Sebastian’s arms. “What happened to her?” He asked, speeding down the hall, Sebastian in tow. Sebastian could barely speak, uttering a few coherent words before gasping for breath again. “I don’t know…I don’t know.” “You must know something!”

You began to get feeling back in your face, specifically your forehead, with burned in pain. You twitched in Sharp’s arms, trying to say something. Sharp quickly looked down, examining your face as it contorted in a mix of pain and confusion. “We’re running out of time, hurry now!” Sebastian’s legs burned as he tried to keep up with the professor’s long strides, seeing the infirmary doors come into view. Sharp flew the doors open, startling the nurse on duty as she folded a sheet. Seeing a limp student in his arms, she quickly abandoned the sheet and pointed to a bed, grabbing her wand and a handful of potions. Sharp set you down, telling the nurse that something had happened, but Sebastian was unable to say what it was.

You struggled to move, feeling the nurse pouring different kinds of potions into your mouth, trying to listen to what was going on around you. “You need to tell me what happened, now!” You could hear Sharp begin to yell at Sebastian, and your mind began to fill with a painful panic. If Sebastian told him the truth, he would be sent to Azkaban, never to be let out. But if he didn’t, he would be in even bigger trouble; obstruction of justice was also a criminal offense. You could hear Sebastian stutter, and you mustered your strength to try and explain, the potions that coated your throat soothing your head and allowing you to finally feel your toes. “Dueling…accident.” It was the first thing you thought of, knowing that the consequences would only be detention, not imprisonment. Sharp and Sebastian looked over at you, Sharp moving closer to hear you. “Take it easy. What did you say?”

“We we’re having a friendly duel. Got out of hand.” You spoke, inhaling deeply and opening your eyes. Sharp narrowed his eyes, unsure if you were telling the truth. Sebastian nodded behind him, quickly backing you up. “Yeah, we were dueling. One of my spells hit something hanging on the wall, it fell and hit her in the head. Can’t you see the gash?” You furrowed your brows, slowly raising your arm and touching your temple. You pulled your hand back and stared at the blood that sat on your fingertips, warm against your cold skin. The nurse took your hand and quickly wiped your fingers, muttering not to touch your head until she could heal it. Sharp sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose, turning to walk away. “I’ll deal with you two later.”

Sebastian watched as the nurse finished up her inspection, checking to make sure each limb was mobile and moving right, making sure your coordination was fine, and that you would overall be in near perfect health. She sighed as she left you, returning items back where they belonged and returning to her previous task. You sat up with a groan, looking up at Sebastian. He had tears in his eyes and a frown on his face, reaching down to take your hand in his. You tried to smile at him, hoping to break the tension. His gaze softened as he sat in the chair next to the bed, head hung.

“Why did this happen?” He asked, mainly to himself. You gave his hand a squeeze as he continued. “Why didn’t you just cast it on me? It shouldn’t have been you.” You furrowed your brows, “Why not? I wouldn’t cast it on you. It was the only way.” He looked up at you, a small trail of tears damping his cheeks. “But it wasn’t. You should have just used it on me.” You shook your head, “I would never forgive myself if I did. I would never put you through that pain.” Sebastian narrowed his gaze, “Why? Why are you willing to go through that pain instead?” You pursed your lips, looking down at where you were holding hands. “I did it for you.” “But why?” You glared at Sebastian, not believing that he could be that oblivious.

Sebastian continued to stare at you, confused, until you leaned over and kissed the top of his head. His face lit up as you turned away, trying to hide the pink that began to dust your cheeks. “Oh- I…you know?” He stuttered, and you couldn’t help but laugh. Eventually, Sebastian was able to get out a coherent sentence as he helped you out of the bed. “Me too. Uh, to…you know?” You nodded your head as you kept a hold of his hand, walking out of the infirmary.

Ominis met you a minute later, huffing as he tried to catch his breath. “Is…is she…okay?” He asked though gasps of air, and you tried not to laugh, knowing how hard it must have been to try and run over. “Yeah, I’m fine now.” You responded, watching as Ominis’ chest deflated in a sigh of relief. “Good…that’s good.” Sebastian patted his back as the three of you walked down the hall. “Let’s not do that again anytime soon.” Sebastian said, Ominis nodding in agreement. You pretended to be deep in thought, letting out a hum. “I was thinking that we go back tomorrow.” “Absolutely not!” “You guys do know you now have detention, right?” “How do you know that?” “Bumped into Professor Sharp, told me to let you two know.” “Dammit!”

[luxthestrange]

TWST Incorrect quotes#184 The pros & cons

Idia: Pros and cons of dating me. Idia: Pros. You'll be the cute one and ortho will love you too Idia: Cons. Holy shit, where do I begin-

See I dont like idia romanticly...but do I want to have ortho as a lil brother-YES I WOULD SELL MY BESTFRIEND/SIBLING OFF TO MARRIAGE WITH THE OTAKU GAMER JUST FOR ORTHO TO BE PART OF MY FAMILY I WILL DIE ON THAT MOUTAIN-

[tokuteasings]

but I don’t like sharin’ my man

Seeing as both Emu and Yanma tied in that poll I made...I may have to write about yanma...idk what do yall think? I know I said I’m taking a break but like, listen, Hiroki Iijima is so beautifl it hurts

Warnings: Im so sorry because this is so self-indulgent and its VERY nsfw so uh...yeah. Reader is GN but topping, bottom!Emu, he’s tied up because yes, overstim,, orgasm denial, edging,  Emu begging...yeah the whole thingy.

Emu is gorgeous, picture perfect perhaps.

Of course he is. You see him every day, he is your beloved, and you are treated to his visage every time you wake up.

Unfortunately, others are treated to his beauty as well. 

You hated to be jealous even, hated how this little green monster would just well up inside of you and chew you up from the inside out. It’s normal, yes, but disgusting. 

It’s acidic, bile that builds up and up and burns you and you hated it.

But sometimes, this can be fruitful...or at least you hope it is. 

Because he’s under your touch right this moment, whining, whimpering, craving, crying, and begging. 

Your lips flutter against the tip of his cock, hard, red, leaking with delicious little ichor that you cannot help but sip like wine. You hold your thumb at the base of it, cackling to yourself as that pressure builds and builds-

Your name dribbles out from his lips, barely heard above that little whisper. You look up to see his face flushed, brightest of reds, crimson hugging his wrists as a pair of jeweled bangles and his dress shirt open - his chest is covered in little welts, his neck adorned with a necklace of your design. 

“Hm?” you question, humming this sickeningly sweet little chord. “What’s wrong, Emu?” you tap, tap, tap your finger against his length once again; it twitches into your embrace, a flower towards the sun, and you relish in it. “Go on,” you murmur gently, again kissing the tip. 

Emu whines and bucks his hips towards your awaiting mouth, tears are halfway dripping down his face and his lips parted in this half broken prayer for you.

He’s beautiful even now, perhaps even more so. 

“L-Let me cum...please.”

“Then say it.” you answer him in return, thumbing the tip once again and stroking it with renewed vigor before stopping altogether. You smirk as his little whine, wanton and loud. “Go on, you can do it.” 

“I’m yours.” Emu is staring into your eyes now, adoration and love within these orbs and valleys that show nothing but your reflection. “I’ll always be yours, so please, pleaseplease-”

You chuckle as your mouth embraces his cock, a howl of a gasp leaving his lips as he murmurs praises, gratefulness and it only fuels you. 

No one else is to have this image of him.

Flushed, begging, pleading, red in the body and eyes, his heart swelling three times his size and his cock twitching and utterly lavished upon. 

Only you.

He is yours.

And no one else’s. 

[tarjapearce]

Tentateur

Miguel O'Hara x Cheated on!fem Reader

WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. SMUT at the end, bit of angst, fluff, adult situations. Cheating, divorce.

Requested here

Summary: Miguel can't stand watching you being neglected by your husband.

------

If there was something Miguel hated, was life being too generous upon those that didn't deserve it, not even the slightest. Meaning, a dickhead for a coworker and sadly, your husband.

How could such a guy like him ended up with a sweetheart like you was beyond him, The man was apathetic, little to no charm, rude and an absolute bastard.

"She's uh, my wife." He had said flatly. Your name felt like sandpaper on his tongue as it rolled out of it while introducing you to the rest at a small party at Alchemax.

Miguel had noticed the little stab of hurt crossing your angelic face. He wanted to punch him straight in the face, even some of the other couples had noticed the small tension. But you just stood there, trying to give your best smile. The golden band around your finger and the loving stare your eyes casted on your husband was a clear 'Don't even try it' for him.

But for once, Miguel didn't care.

----

He didn't exactly know how the crush on you had started. At first he thought that was just him feeling lonely and that his eyes wandered too much. But when you visited, lunch bag in hand, looking for your husband only to give him a bedazzling smile upon seeing him, and he receiving you with a tight-lipped smile, made his heart to break a little more.

"Hey" You were about to kiss him but he just backed away.

"I'm working."

"Alright, alright. See you later?"

He just gave a quick nod and put the lunchbox on his desk. There wasn't love in his goodbye kiss, Miguel noted. Once you were out, he rummaged through its contents while rolling his eyes.

He looked around and spotted Miguel with a mug on his hand.

"Hey, pal." He called and offered him.

"Want some?" Miguel seized him from head to toes but just nodded. It felt the only way that he could have a bit of you at the moment.

"Take whatever you like. Wife always goes overboard with food." Miguel took the small dessert container. It tasted divine. It only matched your own sweetness.

Lucky Bastard.

Oh he was. His eyebrows pressed together as he kept giving away all the food you had so dotingly prepared him.

----

"Can we talk about this later? You can't just keep visiting me every time you feel so"

"But you keep forgetting lunch at home, can't leave you like-"

"It's fine really, we have vending machines here." Your husband grumbled, but you couldn't help but hold the lunchbox tightly against your arms.

"I see. Sorry." You gave him a small smile, "See you later?"

"Im busy today. Might get a couple hours late. Don't wait for me." 

You just nodded as Miguel jaw tensed.

How dared he?

You left.

-----

You had bumped into him at the supermarket on a weekend. Your cart was full of food, food that would end up in his hands and the rest of the team but never in your husband's mouth.

"Miguel, right?"

He nodded as he pulled some items for himself in his basket.

"Thanks for helping me." you smiled, his heart thumped harder.

"Where is..." He cleared his throat and you looked up at him.

"My husband? Oh, he said he had an extra shift today. Working in Alchemax surely is hard, I mean, I try to make it less... bad for him."

Miguel's mind was sneering, not at you but at the fake pretense of a hard working man the son of a bitch had put up with you. He knew the truth, he knew your husband only went there, did things wrong and half assed, and lately he had been flirting shamelessly with a lab technician from the upper floor.

His hatred for the man only grew, just as his admiration for you. What truly made you marry someone like him? That's the biggest question he had so far.

"I'm kind of nervous, today's our anniversary. I wanna surprise him with something" Your cheeks tinted red.

God you were killing him. He wanted to grab you gently by your shoulders, and say 'I can be better' cause of course he could, he was. You'd never have to settle for less with him.

'I appreciate you' cause he did, unlike the fool you had married. 'You'd never have to beg me' because in truth, he was already at your feet.

But you weren't his. Not yet.

-----

Sighing, Miguel put the lab test equipment away, then headed for the main office to get a couple more samples of a liquid he tried, but stopped dead in his tracks at the sight.

Legs wrapped around a man's waist, as his pants were down at his ankles. The woman shrieked once she noticed Miguel standing there with a frown and disgusted face. Miguel’s anger froze when the man next to her turned to be none but your husband.

The man recoiled to himself upon Miguel glaring holes his way.

----

His shoulder was poked by none other that the cheating pig.

"Uh, hey. Can we.... Can you, I mean-"

He stumbled on his words, Miguel towered over him, his eyes belittling him. He was bold.

"You saw nothing, yeah?"

And oh so phony. Disgusting.

Miguel just went back to his work.

It was the last straw.

-------

To his surprise you were sitting on a café, puffy and tear crusted eyes staring into nothingness, a phone on your hands. You knew.

He didn't know whether to approach you, or just leave you be. As much as he wanted you, he knew that coming at you in your most vulnerable state would not only make a bad impression oh him, but he didn't want to act like a vulture, looming over your broken heart for him to take.

He approached carefully.

"Hey"

"Miguel..."

"Are you okay?"

Your eyes avoided him.

"May I sit?"

You nodded with a hiccup and he offered you his handkerchief, fresh hot tears spilled  in the soft fabric. His chest constricting at the sight.

"He cheated on me."

Much to your dismay, he knew. Of course, he wanted to tell you, but knowing how careless your husband acted, it was a matter of time for you to discover the cheating.

"I'm really sorry to hear that."

Shaking your head, you sniffed

"He has been doing this for months. Should've... saw this coming. I mean... I found so many pictures of a woman and... God"

He was pretty sure that he would punch the man next time he'd see him.

"He never came home to our anniversary, but even way before that. He just... I wasn't enough."

He frowned and took your hand softly.

"Stop. Cheating is a personal choice, guapa. You can't blame yourself for other's choices. He decided to do so, to trash away his marriage. It has nothing to do with you."

"Maybe if... I was-"

"No. You're... you're perfect. Puta madre,  you're more than perfect. He's a lucky bastard just to have you. And... If I was him-"

He stopped his words and pursed his lips. You didn't need this. He'd have to be patient. You stared at him gently.

"I'll file for a divorce. He's barely coming home anyways and... that pretty much says on it's own that is over."

Miguel just nodded.

"Might celebrate it." You chuckled after wiping your tears.

"Can I ask you something?"

Again, you nodded.

"I know it's none of my business but, I'm just genuinely curious as to why you'd marry him?"

"Impulsiveness, I guess." you shrugged, your hand resting some inches away from his.

"He just proposed one day out of the blue, we had been dating for six months. Don't... don't look at me like that. I know it was stupid." you groaned.

"It's alright. You thought it was love." His hand inched closer, you nodded.

"We had our problems. A lot, actually. But... instead of speaking things like a fucking adult, he went on cheating."

"Mira, guapa... yo" He trailed off unsure of resisting any longer, his resolution to wait vanishing, "I know that this is a really bad time for you and-"

"Please... don't. Miguel I-"

"Just listen, ok? Please?" His hand finally took yours gently.

"I know this is the least of things you need right now, but... You have no idea how... how perfect you are. I always saw you visiting him, being loving, and he just threw all that away. He lost you. You're way too much for him."

Your body tensed upon sensing where this was going. Of course you weren't ignorant, you'd notice the glances he would give your way, the yearning in his eyes every time you kissed or acted like lovesick fool with your glacial husband.

" Let me show you, how would I treat you, if you were mine."

"Miguel, I don't want to-."

"Let me take you to dinner. If you don't like anything and I mean it, anything, I'll stop and leave you be. Just a dinner. Hell, you could ramble about him for hours and I'd just be happy for you to be there."

You sighed, it was a rather simple choice to say yes or no. There was nothing that actually tied you to your ex husband now. Just a very skewed moral code.

" Just a dinner. "

His heart fluttered and he nodded

"Just a dinner and I'll drop you home."

----

Miguel helped you out of his car, eyes drinking in your form. He would be lying if he said that he didn't feel jealous of the dress you were wearing, snugging all your curves in the right spots, just a tiny thing to make your own beauty to stand out even more. Gorgeous, flawless, divine and perfect.

You gasped at the location

"Are you sure this is the place? It's quite expensive."

Your concern was endearing, he offered you his arm and guided you inside.

"You're worth it, princesa."

The place seemed like being inspired from an old movie, elegant, classic and of course fancy. Never in your life your ex husband would actually treat you to places like these. His card would explode, he said once. Other places were good, but this was in a whole new level of luxury.

Miguel held the chair for you, and you sat, he followed.

"This place is gorgeous." He chuckled and took your hand to kiss your soft knuckles.

"Just like you."

----

Time flew, the night had been to your surprise one of the best things that you have experienced. You had tasted things that didn't know existed, Miguel had fed you the dessert, pampering you to no end. The wine was delicious.

As night advanced, his little touches had turned more and more risqué, his fingers would take a taste of your exposed thigh skin, your hands would brush his, fiery and small caresses that sparked a silent yet mutual fire.

Once home you couldn't get your hands out of eachother. He had to be careful to not rip your dress to bits, he needed you. The wet kisses in your neck and his wandering hands all over your heated body the proof of it. When was the last time that someone touched you like this?

Not even him, the man that oathed to love you and be with you through thick and thin. A gentle rub on your clit by expert fingers made you forget about him. Lock his memory in a vault and you'd throw the key somewhere. Your hips would buck against his hand, rolling on waves after waves of pleasure.

"He didn't touch you?" You shook your head as your mouth gaped open.

"When was-"

"Shut up." you moaned breathlessly. An I don't know nor care.

Your body responded so well too him, be the need you tried to sate with your own hands, or the loneliness that had made you so desperate that had you squirming and soaked and he was only using his hands so far. With Miguel, things felt differently. He did things differently. And different was good. So so good.

His hunger for you shown and conveyed in every caress and touch he gave you. He was gentle enough for his desire to permeate your skin. You didn't feel alone. You felt needed. Loved even. There was no turning back once you discarded all the clothes on both ends.

----

Opposite to what you believed, your heart wasn't flooding with guilt. No.

There were no longer what ifs and what not constantly echoing in your brain. There was no longer that constricting sensation in your chest you always had. No more uncertainty. You were free.

Last night Miguel, whose arms cradled your form to be snuggled in his chest and his thigh hooked on your hip, hoarding you. As if fearful you'd go away, had made you experience a whole new concept of pleasure. Your body soared in bliss, you were glowing, He had given you climax after climax, making every single one of them more shattering and intense than the other.

That's all you wanted really. Feel at ease and blissful. Miguel had given you that and more. More than you actually ever though deserving. It was just a matter of time that you'd finally take him whole.

You wanted him. His kindness, his care, his love, his grumpyness during mornings, the way he cursed in spanish whenever he'd stub his toe in the nightstand. You wanted it all.

Of course you had filed for a divorce as soon as you could, your husband was more than happy to comply. He hadn't been home for a while, Miguel even told you that he had quitted. It was as if the universe was removing him from your life ever since you started with Miguel a couple months ago.

But none of that mattered. Not when he had plopped you down to bed, hands holding a firm grip in your sweaty and smooth skin, hips straddling yours and plowing into you from behind, prone bone position. His hips buried himself deep, hitting that spot over and over. He wasn't gentle, but that's just exactly how you liked it.

Before you could actually reach the stars he flipped you over, your thighs resting ontop of his. He sheathed once more inside. Your phone buzzed.

You growled in annoyance, Miguel sighed. A number you knew all too well. Finally you'd get the news you so needed to hear.

"Y-Yeah?" Miguel smirked as he held your thighs together and pushed in further, his tip kissing your cervix so deliciously you had to bite your lip to suppress a moan. The little baby bump in your abdomen barely noticeable.

"Shit's done. Papers are signed."

There was a bit of rustling and the clinking of glass. By his tone, you knew he was getting drunk, celebrating. Miguel took the phone and put it on speaker.

"Ya know? I'm glad I did. Couldn't stand you, nagging all the time. But I'm a free man now, baby." His gulping, something you secretly hated, could be heard on the other line.

Miguel frowned and spreaded your legs once more.

"You there?" Your ex chuckled, "It's okay if you're crying, won't judge"

So so annoying.

A smirk appeared on your face as Miguel focused the camera on your body. He then turned the video call on. The man's face instantly fell upon watching you bouncing on a cock that surely put his to shame. Spine arching, breast jiggling and mouth spewing the lewdest of moans and needy whimpers he hsd ever heard from you. One tan hand secured you in place, preventing you from squirming too much.

"Sorry, pal." He grunted as he started to ram his hips in abandonment, making your toes curl. Your face and body said it all. The video image shaking at his thrust

"Just like that, bonita?" You choked a sob as he went balls in deep, nodding and begging him for him to not stop.

"She's busy." He hung up the call before the man could say anything and tossed your phone somewhere in the bed.

You felt so good, perfect for him, And now you were all his.

------

tag list: @primroselovessupernatural

[fleur-bbyy]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ WAKING THEM UP TO FUCK!

PAIRINGS: SATORU GOJO, SUGURU GETO, TOJI FUSHIGURO, KENTO NANAMI.

WARNINGS: MDNI!!! female reader, pet names, (gojo) cuddle fucking, (geto) missionary, light teasing, (toji) cowgirl, him being a lazy bastard, (nanami) doggy, ass slapping

SATORU GOJO: just as horny as you are.

the air around you is sweltering as you wake from your dream, but you swear your core feels even hotter.

you’re already soaked, panties sticking to your skin. sticking uncomfortably at that. it’s early, too early to even think about trying to get off. causing you to try to wiggle around and get comfortable again so you could go back to sleep before you feel an arm sling around your waist.

“can’t keep squirming like that, baby.” satoru’s voice is low in your ear with the slightest rasp. enough rasp to make your cunt clench around absolutely nothing and for your body to involuntarily squirm again.

“sorry, satoru. just got woken up from a dream.”

“oh?” his slender fingers rub up and down your side, lingering a little longer when they reached your hip. “is that why your panties are so wet?”

you frown. you know he’s used to this and it doesn’t bother him at all, but you still feel bad for waking him in the night so frequently.

“‘m sorry, ‘toru. i know you have to work tomorrow.” he hooks his chin over your shoulder and giggles into your neck.

“don’t be sorry, pretty girl, not faring much better than you right now.” you feel him shallowly thrust against your ass, feeling how hard his cock is. “how about you help me out and i help you?” his fingers slip from your waist to the top of your panties and once you nod your head, he’s pulling them down just far enough to uncover your pussy.

“this is why sleeping naked is so worth it,” he pauses as he lines up with your entrance and begins to push in, the pair of you moaning when he sinks in all the way, “makes it so i can help my girl faster.”

you whimper when his hand moves to grip your waist, holding you closer to him as he begins to thrust. your pussy squelching from how wet you were.

“were you having a good dream baby? that why you’re so soaked f’me?” you moan again in response, frantically nodding your head.

“yeah?” he thrusts into you harshly and groans, “tell me allllll about it, pretty, and i’ll make it come true.”

SUGURU GETO: tired until he slips it in.

you knew better than to wake up suguru late on a work night, but you were aching so badly and it wasn’t something just your own fingers could fix.

his raven hair was spread across his pillow and his arm was slung across his eyes to black any of the light in the room. he looked unbelievably beautiful and hot, even though you couldn’t see his whole face.

“please baby?” you whisper, kissing the column of his neck. “i won’t do it again. i promise.” the corner of his lips tug into a smirk and his hand snakes down to palm his growing erection.

“you’re so lucky i love you.” you smile when he lazily rolls on top of you. your face scrunching into pleasure when he runs a finger through your wet slit.

“no panties baby? sure you weren’t planning on waking me up?” his voice still laced with sleep.

“no, never.” you smile up at him again, eyes low as you watch him jerk his thick cock a few times before lining in up with your sopping hole. pushing in just the tip to play with you.

“don’t tease right now, need you so bad.”

“yeah?” he pauses to yawn, eyes squinting, but never moving from the sight of your pussy stretching around the head. “how bad, baby?”

“so bad, please don’t make me beg.” you roll your hips into him and stick out your bottom lip. he groans, not wanting to tease you more for your and his sake.

“y’so lucky i’m sleepy and don’t wanna tease.” he says, throwing your legs over his shoulder as he begins to sink into you further. both of you throwing your head back and his eyes snapping shut.

“ohh fuck.” he growls. hips rolling forward to meet yours and your skin making a slight slapping sound when they connect. suguru leans over to grip the headboard. long, messy hair dangling in his face.

“so sorry for waking you up, ‘guru.” you whine as he reaches so impossibly deep inside you. the headboard beginning to smack against the wall.

“don’t be sorry, baby, i’m wiiiide awake now.”

TOJI FUSHIGURO: he’ll wake up, but makes you do the work.

“toji, baby?” you lightly shake his arm to no avail. “tooooji.” you throw the duvet off of your hot skin and shake him once more, grinning when he stirs from his sleep.

“what’re y’waking me up at this time for?” he rubs his eyes with his fists and looks at the small digital clock on his nightstand. the deep rumble of his voice and the slur of his words only served to make your core ache even more than it already did. tracing his happy trail with your eyes down to the waistband of his sweatpants and fixating your gaze on his bulge.

“‘m so horny, baby.” you swing a leg over his torso and straddle him, the heat of your clothed pussy radiating onto the part of him your wanted most.

“yeah? y’want me to fix that, don’tcha?” you nod your head and see his scarred lips tug into a smirk as he flips the rest of the duvet off of his legs. feeling one of his large hands rub your side. his eyelids low and eyes still bleary from being woken up. “hop on f’me, princess.”

your hands gently, but quickly, tug down his grey sweats, practically drooling when his hard cock springs free from its confines and slaps his stomach. you push your own panties to the side and slowly begin to sink down on him, already moaning loudly just from the stretch. his hands rest lazily on your hips as you begin to bounce on him. throwing your head back in ecstasy when you get the angle just right.

“baby?” you whisper out, already breathless.

“hm?”

“you’re not gonna help?” he smirks again and tucks one of his arms behind his head.

“nah, baby. y’woke me up. i’m gonna enjoy my show.”

KENTO NANAMI: was never asleep in the first place.

you awake to the sounds of your bedroom door shutting gently and rustling in your dresser drawers.

your eyes open slowly, trying to adjust to the light the lamp on nanami’s nightstand produces. finally focusing on the blonde undoing his tie in front of the mirror. you don’t bother to look at the time, you know it’s late by the way nanami’s posture is slightly drooped.

“kento?” you barely whisper, voice still waking up with you. he turns to look in your direction as he untucks his dress shirt and begins to unbutton it.

“hi honey,” he stops to fumble with a tricky button on his shirt, “shouldn’t you be asleep?”

“maybe, but i’d rather see you.” and boy is that the truth.

your eyes ghost across his body, taking in the way his jaw clenches, how tight his pants are around his thighs, the tuft of hair peeking out from the top his shirt, finally stopping when you notice that his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and exposing his bulging arms.

“that so?”

“mhm.” you flip the blanket off your legs, revealing the nightgown you were wearing. his favorite nightgown to be exact. “was missin’ you.”

“i can tell.” his shirt is thrown into the hamper, or at least he thinks it is. he was too preoccupied by how pretty you looked in that little gown to double check.

he keeps watching as you hop up from the bed, the hem of your gown barely covering your ass as you walked over in the direction of the hamper. his cheeks flushed when you bent over and he could see every bit of your glistening pussy.

“you missed, silly.” you said as you picked up his discarded shirt and put it properly in the basket. looking back at him over your shoulder and smiling coyly when he began to saunter over to you. simultaneously removing his leather belt from the loops of his pants and fumbling with the zipper.

“beginning to think you woke up on purpose.” he made quick work of freeing his cock from his boxers and dress pants, groaning when you rubbed your wet cunt against him. “naughty girl.”

“mmm, yeah? only for you.” he groans again when you reach behind you to grab his cock and position the tip to your wet hole. smiling back at him once more before pushing your ass back against him and pushing his cock in at the same time.

“you’re such a fuckin’ angel, shit.” he uses one of his hands to bend you over and the other to grip the fat of your hip. you’re wetter than ever and your sweet cunt is sucking him in like your life depended on it.

“sure you can handle it, baby?” you moan out, back arching and giving nanami a delicious view. “i know you have work tomorrow, ken.”

“if you cared about that, you would’ve asked about it first.” he laughs and takes the splayed hand off your back to give your ass two good slaps. “besides, i’d be a damn fool to choose sleep over this.”

a/n: self indulgent sleepy sex for my birfday :3

[roosterforme]

Wrong Number | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley was planning on a quiet night at home with a beer and a basketball game on TV. When he receives a text from a wrong number, he's left looking at a beautiful photo of you. Now he just needs to persuade you to ditch the guy you meant to text and focus on him instead.

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, slight dirty talk, Bradley touching himself

Length: 4700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written for Rocktober. Check out my masterlist for more. Banner made by @thedroneranger

Bradley had endured such a long week at work, all he wanted to do was change out of his uniform, grab a beer from his fridge and lounge around on the couch in his underwear without a responsibility in sight. Nobody should have to work until ten on a Friday night, but it had taken him that long to sort through the massive stack of paperwork from Admiral Simpson. At least now he had nothing planned for the rest of his evening.

His apartment was too hot, and the cold bottle of beer pressed to his bare thigh as he reached for the TV remote left some droplets of condensation. It felt good. He took another sip as his phone vibrated next to him. With a soft grunt, he abandoned the remote in favor of the phone and unlocked it with his pass code.

There was a new text from an unknown number. And there was a photo attached. He grimaced, afraid of what he was going to find if he tapped on it. He read the phone number twice, but it didn't sound familiar beyond the San Diego area code. He let his head tip back as he recalled the time he pissed Nat off and she gave his phone number to a random sailor in retaliation. Bradley really hoped he wasn't going to have to kindly ask someone to stop sending him dick pics like last time. 

Before he lost the nerve, he tapped on the message, and his screen was suddenly filled with a photo of a woman who looked just a few years younger than him. And she was hot. He paused with his beer bottle halfway to his lips before letting it settle back down to his thigh. 

Hey, Alan. It's me. So now you have my phone number, too.

Bradley didn't know who the hell Alan was, but he wasn't mad about the mix-up. This photo was something else. It almost looked like it was taken in the bathroom at the Hard Deck. The lighting was bad, and there was a paper towel dispenser in the background, but whoever you were.... damn, you were stunning. All pretty features and smiling like you had a secret. 

It took him a moment to stop staring at the photo and return to the previous screen and your message. He was going to have to tell you that he wasn't Alan and that you had the wrong number, but he just sat there and tapped his phone case instead. He didn't even like the name Alan, but damn if he didn't want to be Alan right now. That lucky bastard had you interested in him. 

Bradley was wondering how the mix-up happened in the first place as he drafted up a text to you. Only some sort of fucking idiot wouldn't check and double check that he gave you the right number. "Amateurs," he mumbled as he typed with a little smirk on his face.

Hey, sorry to inform you, but this actually isn't Alan. However, I wouldn't mind one bit if you kept sending me the photos that are meant for him.

He hit send and tossed his phone aside, assuming you'd just block him and move on with your night. He brought his beer bottle back to his lips and enjoyed the way the drink helped cool him down while he contemplated taking a shower, but when he reached for the remote again, his phone vibrated. 

There was another message from the same number. Intrigued, Bradley unlocked his phone again, and he was pleased to see another text and another photo.

Hi, Not-Alan. Sorry about that! I hope you have a great night.

This photo was similar to the first one, except that you were flipping him the peace sign and winking which made Bradley laugh. You seemed fun, even through this limited interaction. And he was sure that was the ladies' bathroom at the Hard Deck, which pissed him off, because he got out of work so late he didn't feel like going out tonight. Maybe if he had been there, you wouldn't have been talking to Alan in the first place.

"Damn it." He was intrigued. He wanted to know more about this.

My night is substantially better now that I have two photos of you. So where did Alan get off to anyway? And why is he trying to steal my phone number?

This time Bradley was dying for another response. But it didn't come. He stared at his phone for a solid minute before returning to his beer and downing the rest of the bottle. Still nothing. He stood and made his way into the kitchen, tossing his empty into the recycling bin before getting another one from the fridge and eyeing up the food situation. He should probably eat something, but he swore he heard his phone vibrating. When he looked over to the couch, the screen was lit up. 

He slammed the fridge door and opened the new bottle before heading back to his phone. There was no photo this time, but there was a new message.

I actually lost Alan in the crowd, so really, the man could be just about anywhere. And I don't think he was trying to steal your number at all, Not-Alan. He wrote it on my palm, and it smeared before I could add it to my phone.

"Okay," Bradley said out loud. "Now we're getting somewhere." He sat down on the couch with his beer on the coffee table and started a new message. 

Alan should learn how to write neater in the future, because he's missing out here. You have to double check that someone who looks like you got the number right. Everyone knows that.

Bradley decided that he was going to have no shame for the night. Not as long as you kept writing back to him. He was contemplating how to save your number in his phone when another selfie with a message came through. You were out by the bar at the Hard Deck with a smile on your face, and you were holding up your palm complete with Bradley's smeared phone number.

Does this number look familiar, Not-Alan? Still no actual Alan in sight, by the way. 

Bradley supposed that the 7 could have been mistaken for a 1. Or maybe Alan's phone number had a 5 that got smeared into a 6. It didn't really matter. Bradley was going to shoot his shot and hope Alan didn't resurface. 

Good, Alan can just stay lost. What's your name, pretty girl?

Then he saved your number as Pretty Girl, and this time he did manage to turn the TV on while he waited with his phone in his hand. He muted the Clippers game and picked up his beer before promptly setting it back down again.

Pretty Girl: Not so fast, Not-Alan. You tell me your name first. And how old you are. And your blood type and the last four of your social security number. 

Bradley laughed and started typing. He realized he hadn't stopped smiling for the last twenty minutes as he hit send.

I'm Bradley. I'm 34. O positive. 2305.

On a regular night, the basketball game would have held his attention, but tonight he couldn't stop looking at his phone. "Come on, Pretty Girl," he muttered, running his beer bottle along his thigh before taking a sip. 

Pretty Girl: Okay, Bradley. You have my attention. Send me a selfie exactly where you are, and I'll think about telling you my name. No changing into something nicer. No fixing your hair. Just a selfie. Right now.

Bradley looked down at himself in just his black boxer briefs and mumbled, "If you say so." When he set his phone camera to selfie mode, he looked at the screen and realized his hair still looked pretty decent from work. So he went ahead and took a picture where he was wearing a bit of a skeptical smirk, and he sent it before he could think twice. 

And now his heart was beating a little faster. This was probably where you'd stop responding. Oh hell, at least he went for it, but a few minutes later, you still hadn't sent anything back to him. Maybe he could have tried to hide the scars on his neck and cheek, but what was the point? Clearly you were sending him actual selfies you'd taken tonight, and he did exactly what you'd told him to. Then his phone vibrated.

Pretty Girl: Do you really expect me to believe that you're not just googling "hot shirtless guy with a mustache", downloading a photo, and trying to pass it off as yourself?

He tipped his head back and laughed. There was just something about you. He didn't even know your name or what your voice sounded like, but he could already tell he was going to like both of those things. If you ever told him or let him hear you.

That's really me. Promise. Will you tell me your name now? Or do I have to keep calling you Pretty Girl?

He was wondering if you were still at the bar, surrounded by guys like Alan who would love to take you home while you were chatting with him. And he hoped the next text would contain your name. But you just ignored him when you wrote back a few minutes later. 

Pretty Girl: Prove you're not just sending some photos of a random hot dude. Go stand by your open refrigerator and take a selfie. Then take another one with your toothbrush. 

"She's a handful," Bradley murmured as he stood with a smile. He carried his beer into the kitchen, opened his refrigerator and snapped a selfie where the fridge light somehow accentuated his features nicely. Then he left his beer on the counter while he went into his bathroom. He was actively trying not to smile for this one where he had his red toothbrush hanging out of the side of his mouth, but he was on the verge of laughing at how ridiculous his night turned out to be. 

He typed up a message and attached both photos and then sent them off while he finished his beer at the kitchen counter, Clippers game forgotten. 

What is this, Pretty Girl? A hostage negotiation? I already told you, that's really me.

It didn't take too long for you to respond this time, and Bradley wasn't even letting his screen dim long enough to need to unlock it now.

Pretty Girl: Are you naked in these photos?

"Jesus," he muttered. Of course he wasn't. Did you want him to be? Shit, he needed to stop thinking about that.

No! I'm wearing underwear. You told me not to get changed or anything.

He felt flushed and too warm as he set his phone down on the counter and went to open some windows. Then he walked a few laps around his apartment in an effort to chill the fuck out. He wasn't even with you, and you were under his skin. 

When he returned to his phone, there was a selfie and a message waiting for him. In the photo, you were sipping a drink, and the way the straw pressed to your perfect lips had him practically moaning. 

Pretty Girl: My friend thinks there's something wrong with me. I'm at a Navy bar in San Diego at the moment. There are hot guys galore, and yet I'm glued to my phone. 

"Shit, shit, shit." Bradley thought about getting dressed and heading out to the bar himself. Then maybe he could hear you tell him your name in person right before he pulled the straw away from your mouth and kissed you.

How much longer are you going to be at the Hard Deck, Pretty Girl?

Bradley started heading for his bedroom closet when his phone vibrated in his hand.

Pretty Girl: How do you know I'm at the Hard Deck? Do I need to smash my phone to bits and go into hiding?

"Fuck," he grunted, typing so quickly he had to go back and fix several spelling errors before he could send it. The last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable, so he paused before getting any clothing out of his closet.

Because I'm in the Navy, and I live in San Diego. And I recognized the inside of the bathroom from the first photo you sent me. I swear I'm not creepy. You can ask Penny, the bartender and owner of that fine establishment. I spend enough time there. Show her my photo.

Bradley collapsed onto his bed with his forearm over his eyes and his phone clutched to his chest. He didn't have to check the time to know it had been a while since he texted you. He also didn't have to look at his phone to know it was after midnight now and that you and he had been chatting for almost two hours. Bradley jolted when the phone vibrated against his chest.

Pretty Girl: Okay. Alright. Penny is a sweetheart, and your story checks out. Also, she told me your call sign and then told me to have you verify what it is for my own peace of mind. So what is it, Bradley? And how do you know what the ladies' restroom here looks like?

Oh, he was going to owe Penny big time. He typed away as he lay sprawled out on his bed.

My call sign is Rooster. And as for your bathroom question.... are you really going to make me answer that?

Bradley closed his eyes and thought about the girl who had taken him into the bathroom with her last year. He was pretty sure she had brown hair, but other than that, he couldn't really recall. But he did remember looking at that paper towel holder on the wall and the framed photo of an F/A-14 that was hanging over it while he was in there with her. 

He wouldn't mind taking a trip there with you, that was for sure. Or maybe you and he could skip the scandalous bar hookup and just go right to dinner or a movie. For some reason, he thought he might actually prefer that.

Pretty Girl: Be back soon. I'm getting a ride home.

Bradley mused out loud, "It better not be from Alan." Shit, he could have offered to go pick you up and make sure you got home safely. He'd only had those two beers all night, and now he was picturing some faceless guy named Alan driving you home and pawing at you.

He texted you back.

Let me know when you get home, okay? And you can always just call me.

With a sigh, he got out of bed and plugged his phone in, not sure what to expect at this point. He went back into the bathroom and used his red toothbrush. And then he went back to the living room and closed all the windows. When he was in his room again, he had no new notifications as he climbed in bed. He was about to text you again and check in when his phone rang.

CALL FROM Pretty Girl

Bradley was smiling as he answered. "Hey, Pretty Girl."

A soft laugh preceded your voice, and he had to bite the inside of his cheek as you said, "Hi, Bradley with the O positive blood. Are you trying to tell me that you were in that bar bathroom with a girl?"

He found himself laughing. "Can I plead the fifth?"

When you moaned softly, he dropped his phone onto the pillow and had to scramble to get it. "Oh, my god. Even your voice is sexy."

Okay. He should not be on the verge of touching himself after you spoke three whole sentences to him. "You make it home safely?" he asked, trying to play it cool as he thought about those photos you sent him. 

"Mmhmm. A very nice man named Alan drove me home. He's right here next to me as I get changed for bed."

Bradley thought for a beat that he had met his match in you. "You better be lying. You know what, put Alan on the phone."

Your laughter filled him up as you said, "He's not really here. I had to ditch him, because he doesn't even have a mustache. Apparently that's a deal breaker for me now?"

Holy shit. Bradley was in trouble. He was getting turned on, and you weren't even really saying anything dirty. "You're killing me. You gonna tell me your name, Pretty Girl?"

"No. I think I'm going to hold onto it a little longer."

"Fine. But please explain to me how I've never seen you at the Hard Deck before. I'm certain I would remember your face."

Your voice sounded a little softer now as you said, "I just moved to Coronado. It was my first time at the bar."

If he hadn't worked so late today, Bradley would have probably been there tonight as well. "You had fun? You think you'll go back again?"

"Probably," you replied casually. "When do you think you'll be there?"

Bradley was so warm he was starting to sweat. "Pretty Girl, you just say the word, and I'll clear my whole damn calendar."

Your little sighs and soft giggles were going to be the death of him. "You know, I still have Alan's, or rather your phone number on my hand."

He imagined himself kissing your palm and rewriting his phone number. "Should be in my handwriting. I'll make sure I always bring a pen with me to the bar."

You cleared your throat softly, and Bradley imagined you climbing into bed. "Penny told me to watch out for some of the other guys. But she said you're okay."

"Just okay?"

"Actually, she called you a big, brown eyed puppy dog."

Bradley laughed. "I've been called worse."

"I'm sure you have," you replied quickly. "You deserve some sort of punishment for daring to look good with a mustache."

"It's a blessing and a curse. Now, are you going to send me another photo? Or are you going to just agree to meet me tomorrow night?"

He heard a rustling noise and then you softly said, "Alan is not going to like this one bit." And then another photo arrived, and this one had Bradley's mouth hanging open. 

"Now it's my turn to ask if you're naked in this picture." He was taking in every inch of your exposed skin and your bedding tucked up to your collar bones. You took your makeup off for bed, and you looked cozy and intimate. And you were talking to him. You were letting him see this. Bradley had to actively think about not touching himself. 

"Totally naked."

"Fuck."

"Send me another one?"

"Yeah," he grunted, swallowing hard as he tried to pose for another selfie just how he was, sprawled out on his pillow with his left arm bent and tucked back behind his head. But his cheeks looked flushed, and his eyes looked darker than usual. He was turned on. 

Fuck it. He snapped the photo and sent it. And about ten seconds later, he was greeted with the strangled sound you made.

"It should be illegal for someone with that mustache to look so good. It's rude, honestly. Bradley, you're kind of rude, because now I want to know...."

He was hanging on your every word. "Know what, Pretty Girl?"

The call went completely silent before you said softly and sweetly, "What your mustache feels like...everywhere."

A soft, startled laugh escaped his lips. You were on the verge of some dirty talk now, he could just tell. And his cock was hard as he replied with, "I'd love to let you find out. But before you respond, I need to know how much you've had to drink tonight. I don't want to take advantage of anything here."

You whimpered on the other end of the call. "A mustache, brown eyes, and a gentleman? All Alan did for me was buy me those two Long Island iced teas."

Bradley grunted and said, "That's enough about Alan. Why don't you go ahead and tell me where you'd like to feel my mustache first, Pretty Girl."

You squeaked and said, "I want to feel it rough along my skin right below my ear while you whisper to me. Oh my god, I can't believe I said that out loud. I should just go to bed."

"Don't hang up," Bradley said, panting with need now. "Tell me more."

"Okay," you sighed with another little squeak. "I want to feel it on my lips. While I'm sitting in your lap, licking the taste of that beer you drank from your mouth."

"Holy shit," he groaned, palming himself through his boxer briefs.

"I know," you whined with need. "And I want to feel it on the back of my neck while you do filthy things to me. And I don't even know you!"

"You will," he guaranteed. "Please, tell me what time I can meet you tomorrow."

Bradley listened to the rustle of your sheets as he waited. Then you finally said, "Seven o'clock? At the Hard Deck?"

"I'll be there, Pretty Girl. I can't wait to see you."

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

It was barely even 6:30, but you were already at the bar all made up and wearing a cute dress. Penny recognized you right away, which was kind of nice and kind of embarrassing. When she asked if you wanted another Long Island, you waved her off and said, "Nothing yet. I'm meeting someone."

Her eyes lit up as she asked, "Is it Rooster?"

You'd barely slept all night, preferring to look at the four selfies he'd sent you after you ended the call around two. There was a little more dirty talk, sure, but you and he also learned a bit more about each other. And now you were going to meet this naval aviator who was originally from Virginia but loved the Los Angeles Clippers face to face. 

"Yeah. It's Rooster."

Penny looked truly delighted. "You have nothing to worry about. He's very sweet."

"Tell that to the butterflies," you muttered as you placed one hand on your stomach for a beat, willing the nerves to dissipate as you walked away. You'd told Bradley you wanted his mustache on your body. In several places. And then he told you he thought you were so pretty and fun that he wanted to kiss you everywhere. And right now you were just mystified as to how this could have possibly happened only a week after you moved to this neighborhood. And you still didn't know what happened to Alan after you went to the ladies' bathroom and saved the wrong number in your phone.

You laughed when you thought about it, and then you ran your hands along the fabric of your dress. You were so antsy, your palms were sweaty. You looked down at yourself and just got more nervous. Bradley hadn't seen much of your body in the photos you'd sent to him. You'd seen plenty of his though, and he looked tall and muscular even next to his damn refrigerator. And his face was gorgeous, right down to that sinful looking mustache. 

And you were just... you. Alan was really more your speed with his nerdy glasses and messy hairstyle and his lack of ability to even grow any sort of facial hair at all. You just hoped that Bradley wouldn't take one look at you in person and walk right back out of the bar. 

You were about to tell Penny that you thought you needed a drink after all when the door caught your eye, and Bradley strolled into the bar like he owned the place. "Oh...fuck," you whispered, gaping at him as he ran his fingers through his hair. The photos hadn't even done him justice. He had to be over six feet tall, and he was so broad and muscular, he looked like he could pick you up and toss you around a little bit. "Shit." He was wearing some snug fitting jeans and a tropical print shirt like he just knew he could pull off the most ridiculous look. "Damn." He was glancing around, trying to find you while you started scouring the room unsuccessfully for another exit. 

You were trapped in here, and he was walking further into the bar now. And you didn't think you could hide halfway behind this couple who was making out for very much longer.  

As Bradley's eyes scanned the crowd again, he looked a little apprehensive. His brow was scrunched, and he checked the time on his watch. You knew it was almost seven. So you took a deep breath and let it out slowly, and then you scooted one step to your left. When his gaze came your way again, his eyes landed on you. And then his face softened. The apprehension melted away, and he smiled a cute and somehow sexy little grin that made you whimper.

Now he was heading your way, his gait sure and steady. And then he was just a few feet away and you could see the scars on his face that you'd studied all night in the photos. And you could see the flecks of gold in his eyes that somehow the selfies didn't capture. And then he was talking, and his voice was even better in person.

"Pretty Girl."

Okay, so he'd seen you up close, and he wasn't running away. That had to be a good sign, right? You managed to say just one slightly breathless word. "Hi." And then his smile grew, and he was closing the space between your body and his. He was reaching for your face and running one rough thumb along your cheek. And then he kissed you.

And the soft scrape of his mustache was even better than all of the ways you'd spent your night imagining it might feel. You couldn't help but return his kiss, and somehow your hands ended up pressed to the front of him, sliding up to his chest. 

When he broke the kiss, he stayed close, his lips not far from your face. He covered your hands with his, keeping them on his body. And then he leaned close to your ear, his mustache scraping along your soft skin there as he whispered, "Tell me your name, Pretty Girl. I'm dying here."

Soft laughter bubbled out of you as he pulled away from you a bit, and those butterflies were going wild. His eyes were fixed on your face, begging for an answer this time as he stroked your hands with his thumbs. And then you told him, and he tried your name out on his tongue a few times with that grin that you liked so much. He kept saying it softly until you kissed him this time, and then he guided your arms around his neck. 

"Listen," he said in that raspy voice that you'd love to focus on all night. "I have no problem staying here for a while if you want to. I bet you could even persuade me to join you in the ladies' room."

"Sounds tempting," you told him with a smirk.

"It really does. But we could also just ditch the bar and grab dinner instead? Maybe watch the Clippers game and have a drink at my place? I'm a little worried Alan might show up here and try to lure you away, if I'm being honest."

You practically snorted with laughter. "I can't even really remember what Alan looks like. He was totally gone from my mind after the first selfie you sent me. Let's get out of here."

He took you by the hand. "Anything you want, Pretty Girl."

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

I love dreamy loverboy Bradley, and I love Pretty Girl too. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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[lustspren]

Con te partirò ft Hanni

length: 12.8k words✦

Hanni & Male Reader. 

Diamond Eyes AU.

genres: sub! Hanni, blowjob, oral sex, hard sex, breeding, daddy kink, creampie, fluffy, anal, car sex, love making ✧ 

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Did you need to rent a Ferrari? Absolutely not. Would it be worth it? Absolutely yes.

So many months of hard work streaming 8 hours a day had to somehow be worth it. You could afford it, and you were going to do it. The only bad thing about that decision was the time it took you to choose a car at the dealership. About half an hour wandering between cars until your capricious ass decided to choose the most expensive but also the most practical. A Ferrari Purosangue, the brand's newest, expensive and most innovative model. Choosing it in red would have been the most normal thing, but you chose it in all black, even the interior.

With the car already chosen, you received instructions regarding its functions and handling, upon completing it and having all the paperwork already done, you went directly to drive through the streets of Milano, your hometown. You linked your Spotify account to the car stereos through the digital panel behind the steering wheel and blasted Kanye West's Carnival at the highest possible volume without bursting your eardrums, which helped make you feel like a god as you drove past the Palazzo Reale di Milano.

After about 20 minutes you had already made lap after lap through the city center, just enjoying the beautiful roar of the twelve-cylinder engine and your music. But just as you turned the corner after a traffic light, you received a message from the real reason you had flown to Italy from Korea in the first place.

She then sent you a full body photo of herself. You had to alternate looking between the road and your phone screen. She looked so stupidly beautiful that she made you question all your past decisions to know if you really deserved her. You came to the conclusion that you were simply an overly lucky bastard. To respond to her you had to wait until another traffic light.

After finishing talking to Hanni, you put the phone between your legs and took a new street in search of something to eat. Your stomach was growling; since you landed in Milano that morning you hadn't had the chance to even have a full meal, you had only been eating sweets that you brought with you from Korea. You were crazy to get your teeth into something, and since you were in Italy, you couldn't find a better option than going to your favorite Pizzeria in the entire city: la Zia Esterina Sorbillo on Via Agnello.

After having eaten a delicious salami and cotto pizza, you just waited in the car, parked in a square covered by the shadow of a building to your right, which you didn't mind too much considering everything the car offered in terms of comfort. It had already been an hour since Hanni had entered the event, but it wasn't until two hours later when you received the message you were waiting for.

With the green light already granted, you made the respective call before you forgot—again—, you pressed the touch button on the steering wheel to start the engine and headed to the Fonderia Carlo Macchi, the place where the Gucci event was taking place. It would be approximately 15 minutes of travel from where you were, you would have to make a good selection of music if you wanted to enjoy the journey. You started with Lord Pretty Flacko Jodye 2 by ASAP Rocky, Who Dat Boy by Tyler the Creator, 5% TINT by Travis Scott and Justify My Thug by JAY-Z.

When you entered the Via Enrico Cosenz you had to considerably reduce the volume of the last seconds of the last song. The entire street was filled with people and camera flashes, as well as luxury cars and police guarding the perimeter around the warehouse. As soon as you approached, an officer blocked your path with a wave of his hand, you rolled down the window and he stood next to you.

"Buon pomeriggio, signore. Dove sei diretto?" he asked. You knew he did it routinely and that he kept doing it considering there were more cars behind you.

"Sono qui per ritirare uno degli ambasciatori dell'evento," you responded, one hand on the steering wheel.

"Nome?"

"Hanni Pham. Se hai bisogno di un'autorizzazione, posso ottenerla per te."

"Sì, grazie," you called Hanni's manager and handed the phone to the officer, seconds later, he returned it to you, "Avanti, buon pomeriggio."

"Grazie mille! Anche per voi," you smiled at the officer, rolled up the window again and drove until you parked next to the curb.

Parked there, you took out your phone and told Hanni that you were out. While you were waiting, you watched as the camera flashes took over the entire street. The photographers and the crowd of people were in constant movement, celebrity after celebrity being photographed as they entered their respective cars; you should have expected it, but you were still shocked to see Salma Hayek so close while she was leaving the event. You also saw Kirsten Dunst, and as a lover of Sam Raimi's Spider Man movies you couldn't help but fanboy a little.

From one moment to the next you noticed how the crowd of people began to concentrate much more towards the gate that led to the warehouse; You noticed that the flashes also multiplied. You sharpened your eyes to be able to distinguish any notable figure among the mass of photographers moving outside, until you finally saw her. Much more radiant and charming than could be seen in any photograph.

As always she saw everyone with a warm smile and she greeted all of her fans with contagious joy; she came over to sign a few autographs here and there, with camera flashes and dozens of phones pointed directly at her. You couldn't take your eyes off her for a single second; her walk was mesmerizing, from how her hips swayed from side to side to how she exuded pure class and elegance. She was fine as fuck, and she knew it perfectly.

A little more than a minute passed when the crowd finally dispersed and she could have a clear view of the road. It was then that she saw your car and had to put her hand over her mouth to cover her shock, but no matter how much she tried to hide it, you could see it in her eyes, and you were more than happy to surprise her.

She approached the passenger door, opened it, and greeted a few more fans before entering the car, where no one could see what was happening inside thanks to the tinted windows, not even from the front.

"Oh my god hiiii!" she squealed in pure happiness, lunging at you for a tight hug.

"Hello, Phampy," you smiled, reciprocating the hug and then separating, putting your hands on the wheel. You drove onto the road again, "How was everything?"

"Everything was wonderful! The organization and treatment were incredible, and I met many nice people!"

Every word she said was like music to your ears; she had one of the most beautiful Australian accents you had ever heard, and it was one of the reasons she drove you crazy.

You reached the roundabout and made a U-turn to return along the street you had arrived on.

"I also had to take a lot of photos and make videos, but it was all very nice. And my goodness! What is this car?" She laughed in amazement, examining her surroundings.

She ran her hand across the leather dashboards and touched the carbon fiber of the roof. You noticed her wanting to touch things on the touch screen she had right in front of her but she restrained herself.

"I couldn't come pick you up in a piece of tin, could I?" you saw her out of the corner of your eye, "Hanni Pham only deserves the best of the best."

"Oh yeah? That's why I have you too, right?"

She leaned towards you and grabbed you by your face to plant her lips on your cheek. You were sure that her lipstick must have been left marked on your skin.

Just when you were going to talk to her you received a call from her manager. You left one hand on the wheel and answered as you rounded the curve at the Piazza Giovani Bausan roundabout. You put the call on speaker so Hanni could hear too.

"Yeah?" you asked.

"You better take her directly to the hotel, she still has a pending appointment tonight," the manager told you from the other end of the line, the severity in her voice telling you that it was best to obey.

"You say it as if I were going to take her to Greece. Well, I don't lack the desire to do so."

"Don't even dream of it. Just take her to the hotel, please. I'll send you the location."

"Yeah yeah, chill. You know you can trust me."

"I only tolerate you because Hanni likes you. Bye," she finally hung up.

Hanni laughed at that. Seconds later you received the location of the hotel. It was the Palazzo Parigi Hotel, possibly one of the most exclusive in Milano. You weren't surprised.

"How lovely," you joked, putting the phone back in your pocket.

"I would tell you that she is just joking, but you do make her life a little miserable."

"She'll have to get used to me. Straight to the hotel then?"

"Uhm, we don't have a choice, I guess..." she said, and then she thought for a few seconds looking out the window, then looked at you again, "Daddy... Do you think this outfit suits my body?"

You knew her and that tone well enough to know where she was going with that question.

"Well, of course. That skirt highlights your hips very well... and that top makes your tits look very pretty."

You turned right and entered Via Valtellina, driving straight towards the city center. Low by SZA started playing on your Spotify, you raised the volume a little with the button on the side of the steering wheel. Hanni became thoughtful again, she looked at the road for a few seconds and then at you.

"And... Do you think it also makes me look more fuckable?"

"Where are you going with that question, Phampy?"

She remained silent. She waited until you stopped at a traffic light so you could see her, then she slowly hiked her skirt up until it was all wrinkled at the top. Her perfect, pale pair of fleshy thighs were exposed to you, as well as her red lace panties, which you noticed were also Gucci. You were automatically turned on, but the light turned green and you had to turn your eyes to the road.

"I don’t know… you tell me."

Her hand went to your crotch, slowly squeezing and massaging the bulge in your pants. You noticed her gaze fixed on you, but you couldn't turn around in any way unless you wanted to cause an accident.

"Fuck Hanni..." you muttered, pursing your lips.

"Mmm..." she let out a subtle moan, "You're already hard daddy."

She pulled up the bottom hem of your sweater, unbuttoned your jeans and lowered your zipper to reach into your boxers and pull out your cock, which was already completely hard.

“Baby, we are in th-” you tried to protest.

"Hush. Eyes on the road."

She had seen you turn up the volume on the stereo a few minutes ago, and she used the visual information she remembered to reach her free hand over to the wheel and turn up the volume as well. A few seconds passed and the song changed to The Color Violet by Tony Lanez. You had no choice but to continue driving through the streets of downtown Milano, taking as many roads as possible to divert you from the original destination while she slowly jerked you off.

Seconds passed. Hanni kept moving her hand up and down your cock, which was throbbing between her fingers. Her movements were slow and perfect, the months of experience you had together allowed her to know how you liked to be touched. You felt a drop of precum leak from your tip; she noticed this, and took a moment to kick off her heels, climb on her knees onto the seat and bend over towards you, leaving her butt raised toward the passenger window and her face right above your cock. Then, grabbing it by the base she took it into her mouth, her glossy lips wrapping around your shaft.

Luckily for you, just at that moment you stopped at a traffic light, which allowed you to look to the right and see Hanni's thick ass raised and adorned by the g-string she was wearing, both buttocks on full display so you could grope them and squeeze them. All the while, she moved her head up and down slowly, taking in a little more than half of your cock with each pump in a sensual, slippery blowjob.

A few seconds passed and the traffic light turned green. You were forced to look forward again, but that didn't stop you from grabbing Hanni's panties and pushing them to the side to rub your fingers on both her plump pussy and her butthole. She responded with a deep moan around your shaft. You gave one of her ass cheeks a dry spank before taking your middle and ring fingers to your mouth to fill them with saliva and take them inside her pussy. Hanni moaned louder around your cock again and increased the pace of the blowjob, taking you out of her mouth at times to fill your shaft with kisses and licks.

The song changed, now playing Bermuda Triangle by Zico, Crush and Dean, the bass from the stereos making the seats vibrate. You took your fingers deep into Hanni's pussy, and there you began pumping rapidly in and out. She matched the pace of your wrist and moved her neck accordingly, now she was giving you a sloppy, frantic blowjob.

“Fuck,” she pulled you out of her mouth with a sharp intake of breath.

She jerked you off quickly. Your cock now completely soaked with her thick, hot saliva. When she raised her head you noticed that a string of saliva was hanging from her lower lip.

“I need you to fuck me right now daddy, I can't hold it,” she begged, placing kisses on your jaw and chin.

"I'll look for an alley to stop in."

"No," she quickly said, "You just keep driving and leave it to me."

She sat back down in her seat and raised her hips to pull her panties down her legs. When she took them off, she took them in one hand and wrapped them around the base of your cock, a detail that was enough to make you gasp. Then she maneuvered herself over to your seat and climbed on top of you, planting her feet on either side of the seat and taking advantage of her short stature so she could completely impale herself on your cock.

"Oh my god Hanni," you moaned, slowing the car down on pure instinct as she slowly went up and down on your cock.

"I really needed to feel your cock filling me again daddy... mmmh," she moaned into your neck, wrapping her arms around  and clinging to it.

You thanked God that the suspension of that car was that good, it made driving in that state much easier. Still, you had to do an incredible concentration job to focus on the road with Hanni's heavenly moans in your ear distracting you.

Hanni subtly stroked the hair at the nape of your neck, tangling her fingers between your strands and giving them subtle tugs as she filled the entire side of your face with wet kisses. She started bouncing on your cock. Frantic and strong jumps that, no matter how difficult it seemed, could be heard even with the music playing at full volume in there. Ironically and completely randomly, at that moment Be Quiet and Drive by Deftones started playing.

"I fucking missed you so much daddy... oh god!" She moaned in your ear, clinging even tighter to your neck.

There came a time when pleasure inevitably made you drive worse. You made strange gear changes, and also strange steering wheel movements. Anyone who saw the car from the outside would be alarmed thinking you were having a seizure or some weird shit, but the reality was you just had a Gucci ambassador jumping like crazy on your dick.

"You missed daddy huh? Then fucking cum on that cock," you growled, fingers tightening on the steering wheel. You entered la Corso Sempione, a wide and uncrowded street at that time. Perfect to let yourself go a little.

"Yes daddy, yes! I'll cum for you like a good girl!" she whimpered, pressing more kisses to your neck.

You roared the engine a couple of times and accelerated up the street, that made Hanni cling harder to your shoulders and crash into your pelvis much harder—apparently the speed sensation managed to give her some kind of stimulus. If she kept giving you those jumps she would probably take your breath away for a few seconds, but it didn't take long for her to explode in a tide of spasms and screams. She slumped down, lowering her knees and squeezing her thighs on either side of your hips. She ground back and forth as she rode out her orgasm, and then began to move sensually up and down.

"Fuck, I can't take it anymore," you gasped, "The hotel will have to wait a little longer."

You took a curve to the right and hit the accelerator straight ahead, desperately looking for an alley in which to stop. It was not an easy task, Milano lacked this type of space since it was full of short buildings stuck side by side, but finally you found the perfect place: the back alley of an old warehouse, to the right of which was the left fence of el Cimitero Monumentale—you were outside of it, so you weren't desecrating anything. There were a couple of cars there, but at that time no one would be out since it was still working hours. You went to the end of it, stopping when a small gate cut off the path.

You turned off the engine and could finally focus on her. You wrapped both of your arms around her perfect body and pressed her against your torso to kiss her. She moaned against your lips and cupped her hands on either side of your face to get deeper into the kiss; your tongues met and swirled around each other again and again. You moved your hands to her ass and then gave one of her butt cheeks a harder spank. She squealed and bit your bottom lip.

"Fuck me hard, daddy," she begged in a sensual, pleasure-laden voice, "Fuck me and give me all your load."

"I wouldn't want to stain that outfit in any way..." you peppered her chin and neck with kisses.

"Then make sure no drop goes to waste... put it all inside me."

"Are you sure?"

"I've been taking contraceptives for months, there won't be any problems..."

"Let's go outside then."

You opened the car door and made her get off your cock so she could get off first. You noticed the nervousness in her eyes as she looked toward the beginning of the alley, so you found it necessary to comfort her.

"Honey, I know this city like the back of my hand, no one will come here," you said, getting out of the car as well.

Those simple words seemed to make her nervousness disappear, as she immediately lunged at you with both arms around your neck and kissed you again. You wrapped your arms around her naked waist and lifted her into the air; she wrapped her legs around your torso and you took a few steps forward, positioning yourself on the side of the hood of the car and sitting her on the edge of it.

She let go of your torso and spread her legs wide, leaning back and leaning on her forearms to give you a look that you always interpreted as 'destroy me'. You pulled your pants and boxers down to your ankles, and with her panties still wrapped around the base of your cock, you sank back into her wet, warm pussy.

Hanni let out a loud moan that you silenced halfway by putting a hand over her mouth—no one would be out at that time, but you still had to be careful. She let her head hang back, and you grabbed her legs by the back of her knees to start moving your hips back and forth. You made sure she received every inch of throbbing cock with every thrust, jiggling the flesh of her thighs and her buttocks.

She was an obedient girl, so just one time of covering her mouth was enough for her to silence her moans on her own. She did it in several ways, but the most common was to put an arm around her head and press her mouth against the inside of her elbow. You thrust fast and hard, letting out grunts of pleasure as you felt the quivering flesh of her thighs between your fingers.

Hanni's eyes rolled back as you heard her let out loud squeals of pleasure. Out of the corner of your eye you saw how her toes curled. You brought her legs together and then pressed them towards her body, hammering her pussy so hard it echoed throughout the alley. You tried your best to keep your mouth shut as well, but her pussy felt so good and so wet that you couldn't help but let moans escape from your mouth.

She couldn't scream it for obvious reasons, but if she could she would have screamed at you that she was going to cum around your cock again. It wasn't necessary, you could tell by how her eyes glazed over and then she laid her back flat on the car hood. Seconds later she exploded once again, and she had to add her other arm to make sure that her intense screams of pleasure did not escape in any way.

Her pussy clenched around your cock and suffocated it, a sensation that was deadly to you and your senses. You spread her legs and now held on to her waist—which was possibly one of your favorite parts of her body— to fuck her with all your might and enter the final stretch.

Her body shook back and forth violently. She raised herself up on her elbows again and looked at you with those deep, lustful eyes again. You grabbed her by the gold necklace she was wearing and pulled her towards you to grab her neck with both hands. You pressed down with your fingers and cut off her breathing. It only took a few more thrusts for you to explode inside her.

The pleasure unconsciously made you press harder on her neck. You grunted giving her slow but aggressive thrusts, shooting stream after stream of cum into her silky pussy. She grabbed your wrists and gave one of them several pats that brought you out of your trance. You let go of her neck, noticing that you were squeezing too hard.

"Fuck... I'm sorry baby..." you gasped, still pumping until you finished draining inside her.

"You gave me the fuck I just needed today… don't apologize daddy," she managed to smile at you, even with heavy breathing.

"And what would have happened if I wasn't here? Would you have fucked some other Italian guy?" you raised an eyebrow.

"A few minutes ago I begged you to fill me to the core with your cum...," she leaned forward to give you a small kiss, "And here you are, balls deep inside me after shooting a thick, hot load straight into my womb. That makes me completely yours."

"Completely mine huh? I love the way that sounds coming out of your mouth," you cupped her face with your hands and gave her multiple short kisses on the lips.

"Yeah, and if that wasn't enough, you fucked me in a Gucci outfit, on top of a Ferrari, and in Milan. So consider yourself the luckiest guy in the world," she patted your chest a couple of times.

"I'm the luckiest guy in the world since I kissed you for the first time, Phampy," you continued to shower her face with kisses as she giggled.

"Damn, what a rizz huh?" she joked.

"Shut up dude," you laughed back.

"Hey, how much did this thing cost you? I feel like if I dent it I'll get a million dollar lawsuit."

"Two thousand euros a day, and if I want to buy it it's four hundred thousand euros. I’ll save money for it."

"Yep, I better get out of here asap," she nodded and gently pushed you back.

Your cock came out of her pussy, from which not a single drop of your cum came out. You took her into your arms and helped her off the hood. Once on the floor you removed her panties from around your cock and held them out to her.

"Nah, keep them as a souvenir," she gave you a kiss on the cheek, pulled down her skirt as if nothing had happened and got back into the car.

"Well damn, sure thing," you nodded, watching as she climbed into the passenger seat.

You pulled up your boxers and pants and got into the car again. You put Hanni's panties in the storage compartment between seats, earning a laugh from her. You left the alley, and after making sure there were no snitches around, you headed towards the hotel. After about 10 minutes you were already around the corner.

"Hey, there won't be any fans here now right?" you asked, the car stopped before turning.

"I'm sure not. But there will be later," she leaned to the right in the seat to try to make sure there was no one, "I think only my bodyguard will be there."

"I hope you're right."

Just as she said, the street in front of the hotel was completely clear. Only her bodyguard, who you recognized instantly, was there waiting patiently. When he saw you approaching with the car he approached the sidewalk, but first you made a small U-turn so that Hanni's door faced it.

"See you inside daddy," she gave you a peck on the cheek and got out of the car. The bodyguard closed the door back, and then escorted her inside.

You parked the car diagonally across the entrance, in an area marked out just for that purpose. You turned off the engine, grabbed your things and got out. You walked around the car and went to the trunk to get your backpack out. With nothing else to do out there, you crossed the street to enter the hotel lobby, which alone looked like a beautiful and elegant royal palace, made almost entirely of perfectly polished marble. Hanni wasn't there, you assumed she had gone straight to her room.

After having gone through a small security check by one of the workers, you approached the reception and began the entire procedure to get a room. Using Hanni's room never crossed your mind, it was a controlled environment that Gucci had given her and that her manager probably also used, so you were never going to have privacy. You had to get a deluxe room, which wasn't cheap at all and gave you another little pain in your wallet.

Once everything was done, you were given the key to your room. You took the elevator and went directly to your floor to look for your door. Inside the room you were greeted by a short hallway, with a small counter on the left where was a small plate with cookies and biscuits, an espresso coffee maker and a bottle of San Benedetto sparkling water. To the right was an electric door that led to the bathroom, which had a double sink and a large mirror, in front of which were first the shower cubicle and then the bathtub.

Past that hallway was finally the bedroom. The king size bed was to your right, with two nightstands on either side and a wide stool at the bottom edge. In front you had the large window, whose light was blocked by white curtains that could be folded even more to cover the window completely. To the left was a glass table with two chairs on each side and a pot with beautiful white orchids on top of it. Finally, next to you as you exit the hallway, a smaller circular table with a tray full of fresh fruits, plates with napkins and cutlery, two covered drinking glasses and a note from the hotel staff giving anyone who entered the room a welcome.

The first thing you did was drop your backpack on the bed and lie face up on it to close your eyes for a moment. After your small minute of rest, you took out your phone and told Hanni that you could come now. Not even ten minutes had passed when you heard the knock on your door. You got up and hurried to open it.

"Damn, you're fast aren't you?" you asked with an amused expression.

"Being away from you hurts my little chicken heart, don't you understand?" She stood in front of you to give you a kiss. She then walked in front of you towards the bedroom.

"You got a scolding from her, didn't you?" you sat on the stool in front of the bed to look at her.

"A small one, yeah," she sighed, "But I honestly don't care, I feel exhausted."

Having said that, she began to undress, first taking off her heels, then her skirt, her top, and finally her necklace, which she left on the table next to the orchids. The only thing she needed to take off was her black bra, and once she did she dove face down onto the bed, her feet dangling next to you.

"Go take a shower then, sweetheart," you said, climbing into bed with her, only to lie down with your face right against her ass.

You made yourself comfortable there, hugging her hips as if her buttocks were your pillow—they weren't too far from that, they were soft like cotton.

"Mmm only if you come with me," she giggled, subtly shaking her butt under your cheek.

"I should be ashamed of how easily controlled I am by this piece of meat, but it's okay, come on."

You gave her a kiss on the buttock and stood up to go directly to the bathroom. She came in behind you, and helped you undress between adorable little kisses on your lips and chin. Once you were both naked, she tied her hair in a high bun, and you entered the shower cubicle, whose space was not too big and forced you to be slightly close together the entire time—it didn't bother you at all.

You and she took a completely normal bath without lewdness. It was a purely romantic and fun experience for the two of you, where kisses and caresses were not lacking. It was the perfect example that many times intimacy was not just about sex, and you enjoyed those moments as much as the sexual ones, they made you feel that there really was something there and that not everything revolved around carnal pleasures.

Once bathed and dried you went back to the bedroom. Hanni took off the towel, untied her hair, and threw herself back onto the bed.

"Your manager said you still had a pending appointment tonight, how much time do we have right now?" you asked, taking off the towel to continue drying your hair.

"Mmm… we have three hours, then I'll be there for about two more, and after that I'll be completely yours," she told you as she crawled under the covers and settled herself towards the center of the bed.

"Aight," you nodded, leaving the towel on the floor to go turn on the air conditioning, "Anything in particular you want to do?"

"I want you to take me out to eat and drink, can you?" She asked you, covered up to her neck with the blanket.

She looked so adorable and cute that you couldn't help but grab your phone to take a photo of her.

"Hey!" she laughed, giving you the perfect smile you needed for the shot.

"Of course I can, baby," you nodded, "I know the perfect place, in fact."

"I almost forgot that you were born here. Let's see, would you say something to me in Italian?"

"Tesoro, ho bisogno di dormire perché sono seriamente esausto," you told her, going to close the curtains. The room was now left in subtle darkness.

"That was so fucking sexy, oh my god," she breathed in, surprised, "But what did you say, I know tesoro is a cute thing."

The way she said that word made you smile.

"I said I'm exhausted and I need to sleep, honey," you climbed onto the bed and got under the blankets with her.

"Well, that's timely, because so am I," she sighed, turning her back on you so you could hug her from behind.

She raised her head, and you put your arm under her so she was resting on it. Then she pressed her back and her ass against you, and you wrapped your free arm around her in a warm hug that felt like lounging at a campfire in a Dark Souls game. You buried your face between her shoulder and the back of her neck, breathing in the delicious red fruit aroma of her skin.

"Hey, how do you say I love you in Italian?" she asked in a small, soothing voice.

"Ti amo," you responded with your eyes closed.

"Then ti amo, honey… uh, how do you say a lot?"

"Ti amo tanto," you said with a giggle, and opened your eyes to place kisses on her neck and cheek.

"Yeah, ti amo tanto baby," she laughed too, and turned her head so you could kiss her lips multiple times.

"Go to sleep now, dude, you have things to do later," you gave her a couple more kisses and returned to your initial position on her back.

"Yes daddy!" She responded obediently and clung to the arm you had around her body to sleep.

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

As was usual every time she and you slept together, you woke up first. You gave her a kiss on her temple and carefully got out of bed to go put on some clean boxers, brush your teeth, and return to her. You climbed onto the bed and crawled carefully.

"Honey, wake up, it's a matter of time before the harpy calls you," you said softly, shaking her shoulder lightly.

"Mmmm..." she shifted on the bed and opened only one eye to see you, "What time is it?" she asked with a frown.

"6PM."

As soon as you told the time she sat up and started rubbing her eyes, then she got out of bed and checked her phone.

"Damn, I need to hurry. They're already waiting for me in the lobby."

"Already? There's still an hour left."

"Yeah, but you know how things are," she moved around the room looking for something, "Damn, I left my luggage in the other room. There's a landline phone here too, right?"

"Uh huh, next to the bathroom."

She ran into the hallway, and then you heard her talk to her room service to bring her luggage, which arrived just before five minutes. With her clothes already in your room, she put on clean underwear and went into the bathroom for a few minutes. When she came out, she started to get dressed. All while you were checking your phone without bothering to put on anything other than your boxers.

"So, how do I look?" she told you, coming out of the bathroom for maybe the 6th time in half an hour.

You looked away from your phone and examined her from head to toe. This time she had put on a black cardigan with gold buttons, some flared jeans and a couple of elements from her previous outfit: the red heels and the gold necklace. She gave you a couple of flirtatious spins and blew you a kiss.

"As beautiful and spectacular as always," you winked and smiled at her.

"I'll be back. Wait for me right here, okay?" She approached you, placed her hand on your chest and gave you a kiss on the lips.

"I don't feel like going anywhere else without you, honey. Go," you nodded toward the exit hallway.

"I love you! See you later!" She grabbed her handbag and with the phone in hand she disappeared down the hallway.

"I love you too!"

You heard the door open and then close again, a sign that you would be alone for the next two or maybe three hours. You had slept less than three hours in twenty-four hours due to all the hustle and bustle of the trip and the trip itself, so you took advantage of the moment to sleep again.

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

A weight on top of your body and multiple soft kisses all over your face were your alarm clock. You slowly opened your eyes to find a cute smol bean straddling you, an adorable smirk on her face.

"Wakey wakey, sleeping princess," she said as if she were singing you a lullaby. You almost fell asleep again.

"Hmm?" You rubbed your eyes with your fingers and finally opened them to take a good look at her, "Did you just get here? How did it go?"

"Nope, I got here an hour ago, but I wanted to let you sleep a little more," she leaned in to kiss your cheek, "Everything went great, I had one of the best cheesecakes I've ever had in my life, honestly."

"Did you bring me sum?"

"I would have if I had paid for it," she chuckled, "come on, get up, we have a date honey."

"Has everyone left down there? I thought I heard the commotion when you arrived."

"It's 11 at night, people should sleep, right?"

"Yeah but some people are crazy. You know how things are."

"Take it easy babe, we don't have to leave the hotel together anyway. It can be like when you picked me up at the event early."

"The most discreet thing is to go out as if you weren’t going to do anything important at all, it attracts less attention."

"You just want to leave the hotel holding my hand, right?" She raised an eyebrow. You were caught.

"I mean," you pursed your lips and shrugged, "Yeah."

"Alright, alright," she laughed, "But go get dressed then, I'm ready to go."

"If you would just get off of me I could, sweetie."

"Right, sorry," she nodded, and then got off of you.

Looking back at the amount of time it took Hanni to get ready and how long it took you made you feel a little ashamed of being just a man. It had only taken you about ten minutes to get ready to leave. You combed your hair, put on perfume, and put on all your rings: two on your right hand and two on your left. Choosing an outfit was quite easy for you, especially if you took into account that you were going to have a late-night dinner in one of the fashion capitals. A white turtleneck sweater tucked into khaki pants, a dark brown trench coat, and black Chelsea boots.

During the time that you had been getting ready, Hanni was taking photos of herself all over the room, in the end she showed you one that she took in bed and another that she took in the mirror.

"You look gorgeous, what the hell. Are you gonna post them?," you asked, making a few final adjustments to the collar of your sweater.

"Yeah, why?"

"Nothing, I just want you to make sure I don't show up in any mirrors or some shit," you laughed, "I'd be hung by the balls in ADOR."

"Honey, there aren't that many mirrors in the room."

"Knowing my bad luck, my stupid ass face would show up in the reflection of the bathroom mirror," you grabbed your phone and your wallet to put both things in the pockets of your trench coat.

"But it didn't, let's go!" She gestured you toward the door.

"Did you make sure no one was outside?"

"Manager nim is aware of that, as the hotel security, so we have the green light."

"Aight, but what happens away from the hotel is our business, right?"

"Yup," she nodded.

"Fair enough," you sighed, "Let's go, honey."

After making sure you didn't forget anything, you and she left the room heading out of the hotel. You were lying if you didn't say you were nervous as shit as you walked through the lobby with her holding your hand. As you walked through the revolving door of the hotel you couldn't help but think that the best thing would have been to put on a mask and a cap, the same for her, but at that point you didn't give a damn. You were just a couple of very young adults wanting to be happy together.

You left the hotel looking in all possible directions, then you crossed the street and went to your car to get into it.

"Well, that went well didn't it?" you asked, starting the engine, which roared through the block.

"I mean, I can assure you that this thing just drew all the attention here," she laughed, and you drove away from the hotel grounds.

"In this city we're used to the sound of sports cars, honey, no one cares anymore," you laughed, driving down Via Pontaccio.

"Waaaaoh, that's the most presumptuous thing I've heard you say since I've known you."

"Non è che sia una bugia, amore," you turned for a second only to blow her a vain kiss.

"Yeah yeah whatever you say Mr. Pepperoni," you couldn't help but burst into laughter, "Can I play music?"

"If you have a perfect song that's about five minutes long, go for it," you nodded, still smiling.

She, who had perfectly understood the mood and the context in which you were, played PRIDE. by Kendrick Lamar.

"Damn, this city is beautiful, especially at night, isn't it?" She said looking out the window as you passed around the Giuseppe Garibaldi statue.

"Yes it is," you nodded, "It's gotten a lot better since I left. It feels good to be back."

"Would you bring me here again? I'd love to go sightseeing here with you..." she continued looking out the window, completely mesmerized by the city.

"Of course honey. I could even take you to meet my grandparents."

She turned around with wide eyes and raised eyebrows.

"What?!" She exclaimed, causing you to laugh, "Oh no no no, I'm not ready for that, shut up."

"Sooner or later you will have no escape."

"I know, but I don't want to think about it. Shut up, shut up."

After a few minutes you arrived at your destination, the Horto Restaurant, located on the Medelan terrace, a historic building that was previously known as Palazzo Broggi. Now it was full of shops, offices of major banks and conference rooms. You went up to the terrace, asked for one of the tables on the balcony and went to sit down. It didn't take long for the waiter to arrive to pick up your order.

"I didn't ask you earlier, but how the girls are?" she asked you.

You went blank for a few seconds, formulating the answer in your head because that question encompassed a significant number of girls in your life at that moment.

"Fuck, where do I start," you sighed, "Well, Sullyoon and Haewon are perfect, I haven't been able to spend almost any time with either of them because they've been busy with their activities. Chaeyoung and Sumin are on tour. Rei is giving concerts too. And Yeseo gave a concert yesterday, I think."

"And what about Jinni?" At that moment the waiter brought you two glasses of Masseto wine, "Thank youuu!"

"Grazie mille," you thanked too, "Well, Jinni doesn't talk to me anymore. I can imagine her reasons," you shrugged.

"Oh… that sucks," she grimaced.

"Yeah but I'm not at a point in my life where I want to worry too much about that. How’s Dani?" you asked her, taking a sip of your wine.

"Oh she's great!" The smile returned to her face, "She's on vacation with her family in Australia, I guess she told you."

"Yup, but I haven't talked to her in a few days. The last thing she told me was that she wanted us to meet when the three of us were back in Korea."

"Sleepover at your house?" She took the wine from her with both eyebrows raised.

"You are more than welcome," you smiled.

"Can we take Minji?"

You stopped to think about what that question entailed and you thought about it for a few seconds.

"Only if you promise to behave," you crossed your arms, looking at her with your head tilted.

"We always behave... daddy," she gave you an innocent little smile and seconds later your food arrived.

By the end of your dinner you had also finished your first glasses of wine. The next thing you did was order a dessert, along with two more drinks. She ordered a tiramisu, and you ordered panna cotta. When you also finished the dessert you stood up, wine glasses in hand, and approached the railing to admire the city.

"Gosh, what a view huh?" she said as she looked at the west wing of the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II. She took a photo from there.

"You like them?" You took a sip from your glass as you looked at her.

"Are you kidding? I feel like I'm in a Renaissance painting, it's beautiful."

You took a step back and pulled out your phone to point your camera at her as she drank wine.

"And I feel like I'm in a Michelangelo painting looking at you, sweetie."

Hanni had a small moment of panic at your compliment and put her hand to her mouth to squeal in the middle of a silly smile. It was your perfect moment to take the photo. Then you sent it to her.

"Were you waiting all night to say that line?"

"Nah, it came spontaneously from me."

"Uh-huh, you wouldn't believe it yourself," she laughed, setting her almost-finished glass back on the table to approach you, "Hey... thanks for flying all the way here just for me babe... I was feeling kind of sad to have to be here alone during such an important time."

At that moment, Vivo per lei by Andrea Bocelli was playing inside the covered area. It sounded somewhat muffled due to the distance but it was perfect for the romantic moment, because the breeze also began to blow stronger.

"You have nothing to be thankful for, Phampy. And hey, you wouldn't be alone, you'd be with the harpy," you both laughed.

"Yes, it's basically like being alone," she snuggled into your chest and looked up at you, "But seriously, thank you, it means a lot to me, honey. You're wonderful... and I love you."

You should have told her that you loved her back, after all it was the most normal thing, right? Well no. Up there, under the clear night sky of Milano and with one of the most beautiful romantic pieces in history playing in the background, the first thing that came from the bottom of your heart was to surround her waist with your arms, press her to your body and kiss her.

Hanni wrapped her arms around your neck and clung to you, stroking the hair at the nape of your neck as your lips danced together in a slow, tender kiss. What you were doing was not entirely responsible, you were in a more than public place and on a terrace from where almost anyone could see you. You knew it, yes, but you didn't care in the least. That was a significant moment for you, one that would remain embroidered in your memory and your heart forever, the last thing you needed was to worry about a random snitch.

"I love you too, Phampy," you murmured against her lips, who knows how long after you'd been kissing, "Thank you for letting me be a part of your life, this honestly feels like a dream."

"You're so cute, god, stop it," she giggled and gave you a peck, "You know, the night is still young..." she put her finger on your chin and traced soft scribbles on it, "Why don't you take me back to the hotel to put the icing on the cake?"

"By cake you mean your cake, huh?" You raised an eyebrow with an amused expression.

"By cake I mean I can't wait for you to fuck my ass today. You know what the icing is... daddy," she moved closer to your neck and gave you a quick lick so no one else would see.

"Aight, we're getting out of here."

You hurried to pay the bill (another hard blow to your wallet) and you both got out of the building, got into the car and headed to the hotel again, which you arrived in record time and probably breaking some maximum speed limits. You hurried to take the elevator and go up the hallway, but Hanni, seeing that there was no one there, couldn't hold back the urge and kissed you right there.

You moved between kisses with clumsy steps and slight stumbles, in the end you saved yourself any future effort. As soon as you opened the door you picked her up so that she clung to your torso with her legs and you entered the room. You threw her back against the bed, and being between her legs you went deeper into her kiss. All tenderness had already disappeared, now you were eating each other's mouths in a fierce and passionate way, she letting out constant little moans against your lips.

Hanni took your coat off your shoulders and you helped her by taking it off your arms—when you threw it on the floor your phone must have taken a good hit, but at that moment you didn't even think about it. She also took your sweater out of your pants and put her hands in to caress your abdomen and chest. You separated from her lips and dove into her neck to fill it with kisses and light hickeys. As you did so she pulled the hem of your sweater up to take it off as well, and with your torso now bare you returned the favor by unbuttoning her cardigan and opening it wide, to reveal her black bra underneath it.

As you took off each shoe with your feet you began to trail your kisses down to her collarbone and her shoulders, making sure not to leave any non-wet areas before moving on to the next. You focused now on her tits, which contrary to what they might seem, were not small at all. Each mound was filled with kisses and licks, but before you freed them from the annoying bra, you now moved towards your favorite part of her body.

Kissing Hanni's belly always felt like kissing a soft sugar cloud; it was so perfect that you could literally spend hours just being there, filling it with kisses and licking it multiple times. While she caressed your hair and gave it little tugs with one of her hands, you unbuttoned her jeans and lowered the zipper, and without still lowering the jeans you now kissed her lower belly and her pubes above of her panties.

"Mmm..." you heard her moan softly, "Is daddy going to eat me? I would love for daddy to eat me..."

Her low, angelic voice always managed to make you feel things, and at that moment it turned you on so much that you pulled her jeans and panties down to her knees in one tug. She gasped, seeing you kneeling in front of her with the biggest 'fuck me' eyes. You took off her heels and threw them to the floor, and with her feet now free you finished removing her jeans and panties off her legs.

She crawled into bed and laid her head on a pillow to spread her legs wide, bringing one hand to her pussy to rub it up and down with two of her fingers. You dropped onto your stomach so that your face was just inches from her crotch. Normally you would have done some foreplay and been gentle, but you were too hungry for her. You grabbed her by both her soft, fleshy thighs, and without thinking twice you buried your mouth in her pussy.

"Hmm!" she moaned louder, "Yes daddy... eat your little baby's pussy, make me cum all over your face, please..."

You could always be the top and the dominant, but the truth is you were at the complete mercy of her and her requests. If she told you to jump into a puddle of mud so she could pass, you went at record speed to do it; if she ordered you to bungee jump without any type of rope, you would jump blindfolded. That was the level of control she had over you.

With how turned on you were, you didn't bother to be passionate or sensual, you got straight to the point with intense, wet kisses up and down her slit. Hanni tangled her fingers in your hair and grabbed a handful of it to tug gently. You used your tongue to give her frantic licks up and down, the velvety folds of her beginning to get wet and delicious.

Your grip on her thighs tightened. The flesh beneath your fingers trembled, and her fingers pulling at your hair made it harder and harder. You noticed her wanting to close her thighs around your head like she always did and like you always loved it, but you wanted to make her wait a little.

"Just like that daddy… yes, yes!" She squealed, pulling harder on your hair but also stroking it knowing that she hurt you.

You pressed her thighs as far back as you could, concentrating on attacking her clit quickly and sloppily, alternating between long up-and-down licks and stimulation on her hole. With your peripheral vision you noticed how she reached one hand under her back and unclasped her bra to take it off. She just left her open cardigan on. Her beautiful pair of breasts were exposed, and you soon reached up to grope one of them.

Her thighs were already too tight to contain, so you let go, and as soon as you did she trapped your head between them in a tight, soft meat sandwich. You intensified your efforts, now also adding one of your fingers to pump it in and out of her.

"Don't stop daddy..." she gasped, "Oh my god don't stop don't stop don't stop!!"

And you didn't do it in any second. Not until the pressure on either side of your head became so strong and her body became so trembling that you knew her orgasm was just around the corner. Seconds later she came, arching her back and gripping the pillow beneath her head with both hands. You collected every delicious drop of fluids with your mouth, sucking and licking up and down her pussy until they were gone.

She finally let go of your head and relaxed her legs to the sides. You wiped your chin, and knelt up to look her in the eyes.

"Do you feel like sucking daddy's cock?" you asked, unbuttoning your pants and unzipping them.

"I always feel like sucking daddy's delicious cock..." she responded breathlessly, then sat up and took off her cardigan to throw it in with the rest of her clothes.

Already completely naked from head to toe, Hanni got on all fours and crawled up to you with hungry eyes, looking up at you when she was in front of your hard bulge. She grabbed the hem of your pants and pulled them down to your knees. Her lips were planted on your bulge above your boxers, kissing the outline of your cock and also kissing your balls. It didn't take long for the drops of precum to leak through the fabric and make a stain, which she then collected with her tongue before lowering your boxers as well.

"How can I not always want to suck daddy's cock?" she asked as she set your throbbing shaft free, "It's so juicy..." wet kisses on the backside, "So big..." kisses now on your balls, "And it fits so well in my mouth."

She gave your cock a long lick from the balls to your tip and swirled her tongue there before taking a couple of inches into her mouth. A few sucks on your tip were enough for her to take a couple more inches, then she started pumping back and forth, taking a little more than half of your cock in and out of her warm mouth.

You had a wonderful view: her beautiful arched back and her perfect upturned ass. While she slurped over and over on your cock you leaned forward slightly to grope her ass to your heart's content. You squeezed each of her ass cheeks hard, and also gave a couple of spanks hard enough to make her moan around your cock.

She pulled you out of her mouth with a sharp gasp of air and spat a large amount of saliva onto your cock to jerk you off quickly. She looked into your eyes for a few long seconds, her mouth purposely half open so you could see how a thread of saliva dripped from her lower lip onto the bed.

"Does daddy want to fuck her little baby's mouth?" she asked, then started sucking your balls and filling them with saliva.

"If you promise to be a good girl and swallow it all..."

You grabbed a handful of her hair and made her lift her head slightly to lick all the way from her chin to her upper lip. That made her moan.

"I'm always a good girl... you should know that daddy… Now put that hot load down my throat,"

By her saying that you forced her to return to her initial position. She opened her mouth wide and stuck her tongue out as far as she could. You gathered as much of her hair as you could into a ponytail and held it to take your cock into her mouth. You let out a long gasp, starting to pump your hips back and forth.

Hanni stuck to being a good girl as if it were a divine commandment. She remained with her tongue hanging out and her mouth wide open; it didn't matter how deep you pushed or how fast you did it, she always did what she knew you would love. And in that moment, as you fucked her mouth faster and faster, you felt like you were going to explode at any second.

She wasn't able to take you all the way down her throat, but she did such a good job with her tongue that you didn't care at all. Her saliva began to spill down her chin, bubbling and falling to the mattress with each thrust. You moaned loudly, releasing her ponytail to now grab two handfuls of her hair with both hands, then you began to move her head against your cock.

The frantic gag sounds were like music to your ears. You growled, releasing one of the fistfuls of her hair to give her a harder spank that made her moan again. The vibrations sent to your cock were the finishing touch that with a couple more pumps, made you explode inside her mouth. You buried her head against your cock as much as you could, shooting your entire load down her throat.

"Oh yeah... take it all baby," you gasped, hearing her cough and seeing the veins in her neck pop out.

She closed her lips around your cock so that no drop of cum would escape as she swallowed it all. You stroked her hair and then the side of her face, as a reward for swallowing your entire load once your orgasm passed. You pulled your cock out of her mouth, and she took a sharp breath. Multiple thick strings of saliva connecting the tip of your cock to her lips.

"See daddy? I'm always a good girl... I swallowed it all," she stuck her tongue out for you to check.

"And since you're such a good girl..." you leaned in to give her a kiss on the forehead and another on her nose, "You deserve for daddy to make love to you."

Hanni's face lit up like a streetlight and a smile spread from ear to ear. She knelt and then fell back to lay on her side, her head on the pillow.

"Come here and kiss me then, dear," she said back in her small, soothing voice.

You raised knee by knee and finished removing your pants and boxers off your legs; then you lay down on one side of her and pressed her back and your chest together. You repeated your same sleeping position, her lying on top of your right arm and her entire body against yours. Only this time you took your cock with one hand and made her put her ass back, so you could make your way between her buttocks and find her pussy, which you rubbed several times with your tip. Your cock was already well lubricated and her pussy extremely wet, so it took no effort at all to take your entire cock inside her in one smooth motion.

"Mmm..." she let out a long, adorable moan. You hugged her with both arms and began to shower her jaw with kisses, "God..."

You began to move your hips slowly, taking the entire length of your cock in and out of her wet pussy with sensual movements. It was the perfect moment for you both to enjoy each other's bodies as much as you could. With your right hand—the one around her neck—you grabbed one of her tits and massaged it, playing with her nipple from time to time. With your left hand you explored every possible corner of her body within your reach; you started with her perfect belly, caressing it from top to bottom with the palm of your hand; then your hand went to her soft thighs, squeezing one of them and later moving to her ass, which you also squeezed hard.

From her position Hanni couldn't do much, but she used what little mobility she had to caress your hair, the side of your torso, your hips and finally your butt, which she also squeezed before turning to look at you. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyebrows were arched in pleasure. She looked at your lips, and pulled you towards her to kiss her.

While you shared a kiss full of passion and small moans you lifted one of her legs, holding it by the back of her knee and pressing it against her torso. Hanni moaned louder against your lips, and you did it back, feeling in absolute heaven as you fucked her with slow, strong, deep pumps.

"Oh my god... you drive me so fucking crazy darling..." she murmured against your lips between gasps.

"You drive me crazy too, baby..." you bit her lower lip, then looked into her eyes, "I absolutely love every part of you... you're so fucking perfect."

You gave her a few harder, faster thrusts for a few seconds, now kissing her chin and neck. She pulled you gently by her hair.

"Absolutely every part of me is yours... my entire fucking existence belongs to you, fuck," she moaned, breathing becoming louder and more ragged.

You let go of her leg and let it fall back so that it was bent toward her body. Now you rested that hand on her soft waist, holding on there with your fingers as hard as you could.

"Say it... tell me you're completely mine," you murmured against her neck, which you then bit gently.

"I'm completely yours, damn it! And I love you so much that I wouldn't mind being it forever! Fuck!!"

That last sentence of hers, said between loud moans and gasps, was the precursor to one of the strongest orgasms you could ever cause in her. She clung to your right forearm with both hands, letting out beautiful squeals of pleasure that urged you to kiss her again. You fucked her non-stop during her orgasm, which made her writhe in your arms and let out a small load of hot fluids that you felt soaked part of your cock.

"And you..." she whispered, "You are completely mine," she looked into your eyes, "You belong to me. Every part of you, from head to toe. Everything about you says Hanni Pham’s property."

Her words were a breaking point for you. You couldn't take it anymore, and with a sudden burst of energy you forgot that you were making love to her. You fucked her as fast and hard as you could, holding on to one of her tits as if your life depended on it and putting such pressure on her waist that it could very well hurt later. You buried your face in her neck once more, and it only took a few seconds for you to explode inside her again. This time filling her pussy with so much cum that you felt like it was already spilling out after a couple of pumps.

"Oh yeah... give me all that load dear, put it all inside me, fill me and make me more yours than I already am..." she said in a low voice as you spilled the last drops.

"You're lucky you're on the pills..." you mumbled between tired breaths, "Because if you tell me that I just want to put a baby in you."

"Right now it's impossible... in the future, who knows."

You looked up to look at her for a few seconds and then kiss her again as you let your cock slide out of her pussy—forming a massive pool of cum on the mattress that you didn't bother to clean up at the time. You two completely lost track of time, two minutes or two hours could have passed while you were kissing. You didn't know, what you did know is that it didn't end there. And also that you already felt ready for one last round.

"The icing is still missing on the cake... don't you think?" you asked, and she gave you a mischievous smile.

"Did you bring lube? I didn't think I'd need it."

"Unlike you..."

You got out of bed and went to your bag, you dug to the bottom of it and took out the water-based lubricant that you and she always used.

"I'm always prepared for anything," you winked at her and went back to bed.

"How do I know you haven't had it there since you went to fuck Haewon or some shit like that?" she raised both eyebrows in an expression that made you laugh.

"As real as that sounds to you and me, no. I put it there thinking exclusively of you," you gave her a peck on the lips and gave her a little spank.

"Wow, that's thoughtful, isn't it?" you noticed the sarcasm in her voice, "Does that mean you really fucked her ass?"

"I don't know, why don't you ask her?"

You grabbed her by the waist and forced her onto her stomach, then she herself lifted her butt and got on her forearms and knees for you. You settled on your knees behind her pretty round ass, your cock resting between her butt cheeks.

"Because I don't care, no ass will feel better than mine to you."

She looked over her shoulder at you with a mischievous expression and arched her back even further, pressing the side of her face into the bed. You took the bottle of lubricant and started pouring it all over her ass, including your cock in the middle. After having poured a not at all modest amount you put the bottle aside and began to spread the liquid, making her pale buttocks so shiny that they reflected the ceiling lights. You repeated the process with your cock, and then used your fingers to spread it into her butthole as well.

"That's a pretty humble take, huh?" you imitated the sarcasm in her voice.

"Put that cock in there and you'll find out, daddy," she returned to the spiciest tone of voice, the one that made you fuck her in the middle of an alley.

You didn't make her wait. You took your cock in one hand, pressed it against her butthole and slowly sank into it. She frowned and moaned, engulfing your cock inch by inch until it disappeared between her ass cheeks. You let your pelvis rest against her ass, all the while you just looked at her.

"Fuck, maybe you're right. I don't think there's an ass that feels as good as this one."

You gave one of her buttocks a hard spank, the hardest of the night, and repeated the same with the other. Hanni let out little squeals at both of them. You began to move slowly back and forth, slow pumps at first to let her walls get used to it.

"Is this daddy's favorite ass then? Hm?" she asked with a provocative tone.

Certainly Haewon's ass was a strong contender, and Rei's wasn't that far off either, but you had to give in to the truth.

"Yes it is..." you replied as you made circles on her buttocks with your hands, "now shut up and let daddy pound it really good."

As a good man of your word you did so. You clung to her waist with both hands, making sure she was looking at you before you began to increase your pace. With each thrust Hanni's face twisted more and her face became redder with pleasure. Her body shook with increasing violence as your pelvis slammed harder against her ass and filled the room with the sound of your lewd act.

"Give me your damn hands," you ordered, and she obediently put her hands behind her back.

You put her hands on top of each other and then grabbed both of her forearms with your hand. With that point of grip you began the real action, now fucking her ass in such a way that even that bed squeaked every few seconds. You raised your free hand and gave her another hard spank.

"Oh fuck!!" She squealed, "Give me more daddy! Let your good girl's ass fucking red!!"

You switched the hand you had on her forearms and now gave her other buttock a series of consecutive spanks that made her scream into the sheets. You didn't stop until her right buttock was as red as a tomato, and then you repeated the process with the other. With Hanni's request fulfilled, you brought her knees together and made her lie on her stomach to now fuck her prone bone.

"Now you feel kinky huh?" you growled.

You let go of her forearms and leaned forward, grabbing a handful of her hair and lifting her head just to shower her neck with kisses. Hanni clung to your neck with one hand and you felt her grip her fingers around it. You pumped up and down as hard as you could, pinning her against the bed.

"I-I..." she stuttered, "D-Daddy, I'm going to... HMMM!!"

Just before she finished her sentence you noticed all the muscles in her ass tighten around your shaft. Hanni's legs began to shake, and she rolled her eyes back as she grunted in pleasure. You stood up straight again and released the handful of her hair with a sharp downward push. She leaned on her hands and watched you over her shoulder as you continued fucking her ass.

"So? What are you waiting for to put the icing on the cake daddy?" she raised an eyebrow letting you know that she was ready for more.

"I hope you know how to hide the pain in your legs, you slut."

You pulled out of her ass and made her lie on her back. She spread her legs wide, gripping her own thighs, and you returned inside her butthole with a single strong thrust. Now you were looking into her eyes, and she was looking straight back at you. You let her take care of holding her legs, and you concentrated on bringing her hands to her neck to press your fingers around it.

"I don't care about the damn pain..." she managed to say through her throat slightly clogged by your fingers, "Just put all that load inside me, daddy..."

You didn't need to remember how much power she and her words had over you, but those damn words made you feral. You removed her hands from her thighs and grabbed them yourself, only to pull them back and press them tight against her torso. You leaned forward, and placed your hands on her sides to use your body as weight.

Now your face and hers weren't too far from each other. She cradled your face with her hands, and made you stare at her while you pounded her ass like an animal. The tide of stimulus soon became too strong. Her deep eyes fixed on you; her blushing cheeks; her mouth half open and gasping with pleasure; her sweaty skin constantly rubbing against yours; and above all, her incredibly tight ass, which in a few seconds brought you to one last orgasm.

"Mmmghh!!" you growled, tensing all the muscles in your neck as you gave one last hard push down.

"Hmm!!" She moaned with you, "That's it daddy, give it to me all... all of it!!"

You didn't hold back the urge to kiss her as you shot thick jets of semen into her ass, now giving slow, deep thrusts so that she felt absolutely every drop of it filling her. She moaned against your lips, and released her legs from the pressure of your body to wrap them around your torso. Then she wrapped her arms around your neck as well, and once again, you kissed for longer than you could imagine.

"What a way to end the night, huh?" you asked between labored breaths once you maked out for about five minutes.

"Oh yeah..." she nodded, placing kisses on your chin and another on your nose, "It was more than necessary."

"Are you flying to Korea tomorrow?"

"I think so, and you?"

"I don't know, I might stay here a couple more days before I take the flight."

"And keep paying for that damn beast down there?" she laughed.

"Oh hell no, our mechanic friend already did his job perfectly. But maybe you'll see him again in Korea."

"Then I'll pull your ears for spending that kind of money."

"It's not like you didn't like it," you laughed.

You stood up and started looking for things for you and Hanni to clean up. Once both bodies were clean, you turned on the air conditioning and turned off the lights. Now you only had the light from one of the lamps on each side of the bed. You settled under the blanket, she clinging to you with her arms and legs like a koala clinging to her branch.

"I love you, Phampy... sweet dreams," you kissed her forehead and then her lips.

"I love you too dear… thank you for being here with me," she said softly before closing her eyes.

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

Spren Notes: Well, first of all, I must apologize once again for filling this piece with so much Italianness everywhere lmao. It was necessary. This is probably the most personal and close to my heart piece I have ever written. I just hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it.

[frogchiro]

COYOTE-GRAVES CHASING AFTER FARM-CAT READER!

Just a pretty little kitty that enjoys the finer things in life, lazily patrols the farm for this and that- reporting back to guard dog Ghost occasionally.

She’s out on the far part of the pasture, lazing around when she see’s Graves behind the fence.

Oh- he’s calling out to her! Hm- she get’s up and slowly starts to walk away like she never heard him- oh he jumped the fence! Maybe walk a little faster- Fuck! He’s following her! Time to run!

Her fluffy groomed behind sprinting back to the barn with Graves snapping at her heels, crazy about this *pretty* little kitty. He knows that you’re a kitty- you’re not meant to take his knot, you’re not really big enough to take his knot but, your body isn’t built to take his knot, BUT! it’s worth trying sweet girl! Get back here!

While you’re just trying to find Guard dog Ghost- why can you never find his scary ass when you need him!!!! Bastard!

(Maybe you try and dart for the doggy door of the house *but, it’s a door for actual dogs* and your ass get’s stuck half way through the door.)

Imagine Ghost’s surprise to hear his kitty howling her head off with Graves shuffled up behind her trying to shove his knot in. Just relax a little kitty!

You have no idea that this ask has been knocking around my brain all day now

And the day started out so good for you too!! :(( You woke up snuggled all warm and happy between the two huge farm guard dogs, Simon and Johnny, who, before you went out on your own, manage to sneak a little nip here and there and tickled you with their tongues a bit, y'know for a good start Kitty!

The 'lucky' tongue tickling didn't do it's job though since now you have a pervy and very horny Coyote Hybrid chasing after you >:( You've seen the wild blonde hybrid before on the premises of the farm, always lurking and stalking when the sun was setting, his eerie eyes almost glowing in the setting light making you meow and run away back to the barn where your nest is and now he's chasing after you bc he wants to mate :((

And as you're running Philip is both horny and frustrated; why are you running?? Come back pretty girl! Sure you're smaller than him and his knot can be a challenge but c'mon Kitty, he promises it will be worth it! He's very virile and strong, he can take good care of you!

Besides it's not like it will be your first time taking dick and knot this big; Philip is lurking around the farm for a while now and has seen you mate so much with the huge guard dog hybrids, Ghost and Soap, that he's actually surprised that you're not knocked up with a litter of pups by now. Not to mention that he saw you sniffing and slinking around that mean old bull, Price, who always charges at him on sight >:(

Imagine Ghost's and Johnny's rage when they find poor you held down by Philip who literally dragged you out of that doggy door and is now thrusting without abandon as you yowl and moan, your soft, broad hips high with your tail fluffed up as the mean Coyote tries to fit his fat knot inside your cunt with a nasty smirk on his annoyingly handsome face </3

[januaryembrs]

NEARLY BROUGHT ME TO MY KNEES | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader [2]

Description: FIVE times Spencer thinks he might like you + the ONE time he knows.

Word length: 20k

Trigger Warnings: death, murder, Lauren arc, spencer's addiction mentioned, Diana's schizophrenia mentioned, vomit, alcohol, blood, usual criminal mind warnings. mommy AND daddy issues in the prentiss family.

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‘so sweet with a mean streak

nearly brought me to my knees.’

The one where he tries flirting

Emily tutted at her as the girl blindly shoved the Lucky Charms in her mouth, her tongue staining a gross blue-green colour from the additives as she read from a battered copy of Anna Karenina. Bugsy had been living with her for just two weeks now, since her impromptu fleeing from the altar, and Emily’s certainly had a good insight into the life of the twenty three year old. 

Yes, it was her birthday next week. No, she didn’t act her age anymore than she had at twenty. 

“Bug, slow down.” Emily urged, a rogue orange marshmallow dribbling down her chin as she plunged the spoon in before she’d even swallowed the last mouthful, “You get sick when you eat too fast,” 

Bugsy waved her off with the utensil, not even ripping her eyes away from the page in front of her, scooping up the marshmallow with the side of her finger and popping it into her mouth. 

Emily rolled her eyes, downing a few sips of her coffee and heading for the stairs, knowing her ride would be here any moment and she still had yet to change her shirt from the one she’d spilled toothpaste down not ten minutes earlier. 

“Niko needs breakfast when you’re done,” The older of the two shouted down to the breakfast table, a streak of tabby grey running under her feet at the sound of food. Bugsy had insisted she bring her new feline friend into Emily’s apartment, and as much as she’d hated the way she nearly tripped over the chubby bastard almost every day they’d been here, she certainly had a fondness for him. 

Bugsy hummed in acknowledgement, though she scraped the edges of her bowl clean by the time the cat in question hopped up onto the counter in search of her leftover milk. 

“This is not for you, you have too much already,” She scolded, shovelling the last few sugary pieces of cereal into her mouth right as the door knocked. 

She dogeared her page, gulping down a quick sip of Emily’s coffee, cringing when she caught it was much too strong for her liking, and heading for the door, her sister yelling to her again. 

“Bug, can you get that- wait- are you wearing pants?” 

She certainly wasn’t, having rolled straight out of bed in a pyjama shirt and underwear, and towards the promise of breakfast, nor as she swung the front door to the apartment open before Emily had a chance to rush down the stairs.

Spencer could have laughed when he saw her, all too reminiscent of the first time he’d met her. The boxers that hugged her legs beneath a large top he was entirely convinced was not hers, though her face lit up in excitement to see him. 

“Good morning!” He thrust a coffee to-go into her hand, still warm even from where it had been jostled around in his car.

“You’re my saviour,” She grinned, sipping on the sweet beverage with bright eyes, “Cute sweater vest-” 

She was quickly manhandled behind the door by two firm hands, Emily’s face enraged as she glared down at her sister where she was now out of sight from the doctor. 

“What did I tell you about wearing pants? Huh? You nearly gave Mrs Jensen a heart attack last week,” Emily hissed, as Bugsy shrugged, remembering the look of horror the old woman across the hall had given her when she’d taken the trash out in a hoodie and booty shorts.

“It’s Spencer,” She poked her head around the door, despite Emily’s shoving, like she was taming a wild animal, “You don’t mind, do you?”

He shook his head, an amused and easy smile on his face as he watched the sisters bicker, not entirely unlike the way he and Emily tended to pick at one another. 

“Not at all; I agree pants are loathable,” And he wasn’t lying. He tried to go for looser fitting trousers or sweat pants, hating the way the tight fabrics restricted his legs, rubbed his skin, making him want to itch and squirm inside his body. 

“Don’t you start,” Emily pointed at him, huffing as she stepped out of the apartment, “You know she gets all worked up and weird on sugar,” 

“Hey, I’m the last person to deny someone a coffee,” He replied, and the two turned to head back to his car, not before he threw the younger woman a look over his shoulder and a wave. 

“Go save the world, kiddos.” She waved back, sipping her coffee indeed with bare legs that would have a nun blushing, “Curfews at nine, Doctor Reid, I expect both of you home for dinner!” She nudged the door closed with her hip before Niko could run out after Emily, and Spencer chuckled to himself, shaking his head. 

“See, told you,” Emily sniggered, rolling her eyes, “Weird,” 

Though that wasn’t quite the word he’d have used. 

–

A killer, so far as they had been able to profile from the four bodies, was targeting women he picked up in night clubs in Atlanta. Most of the team, except Derek, had outgrown the clubbing scene, though Spencer didn’t quite think he’d ever been in it to start with. They all went to O’Keeffe’s usually once a month or so for a quick drink, but it was not big on his list. 

Rossi, Reid and Derek stared at the puddle of blood on the sidewalk, wincing as Emily leaned over the balcony, the five story drop making her tug her lip in between her teeth. 

This woman must have been terrified by something, someone, to see this as a better way out. 

“Maybe she fought back,” Hotch speculated behind her, drawing her attention back to the cleaning equipment scattered over the floor, entirely different to the last three crime scenes where they had been arranged neatly into a triangle, “And when Becky fought back, his routine was compromised, cause he knew the police would respond,”

“Or she could have jumped,” Emily responded gravely, shaking her head at the carpet beneath her boots, “Her nervous system is pumping adrenaline, her fight or flight response kicks in?” Both were equally plausible options, but not ones they had time to entirely pick over. 

“He’s struck two Fridays in a row, and if his routine’s been interrupted, it might compel him to strike again,” Hotch said, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his brow furrowed deeper than it usually was. 

“It’s Saturday, the clubs will be packed tonight,” Emily replied, her eyes sad, worried. 

“Take a look at the classes the Unsub might have taken, we need to generate a suspect pool as soon as possible,” Her boss ordered, and she nodded heading for the door before she stopped, looking at him with a grimace he didn’t quite understand, “What is it?”

“Bugs-my sister used to work as a shot girl in a club.” She said after a moment of thought, “She could smell a rat from a mile away; said most girls who work in bars get this sixth sense about guys with bad intentions, so they know when to cut them off earlier than most,” 

Emily looked at him for a moment, and he seemed troubled, hesitant as she was to even tease the idea to him, before he sighed, rubbing a hand over his forehead. 

“Call her in.” He said through an outbreath, gritting his teeth the way he did when he was in between a rock and a hard place. 

Rock being another girl murdered by tonight with a huge opportunity to catch the guy in the act missed. Hard place being a twenty-three year old risking her skin for his team for a third time. He hated the paperwork she brought him, hated the look on her face the day Spencer and Derek had dragged her out of that chapel bloodied and shaken even more. 

“But she wears a vest under her clothes, and she stays with Reid and Morgan,” He reasoned, “And just purely scouting; if the Unsub strikes, she gets out there like any other civilian.”

Emily nodded, her hand routing through her pockets for her phone already, “Couldn’t agree more,” She said, hitting the call button with a sigh. She just hoped this time her baby sister wouldn’t be making any drastic calls like throwing herself in the Unsub’s way. Though, Emily knew Spencer wouldn’t let her take another hit for him ever again. Not after the way he’d seemed so distraught the moment she’d been dragged from that room, his eyes all but glistening with tears when he’d seen her on the bed, bloodied and beaten for his sake. 

No, Emily could stake her life on the fact Reid would go down swinging before that ever happened to her again. 

-

“When you think about the nature of serial crimes, it’s amazing there aren’t more predators in clubs,” Spencer said, hoping the pretty girls he’d managed to snag into conversation didn’t hear the way his voice stuttered. This was so far out of his depth, the entire club atmosphere suffocating him worse than any tight pants ever could. The music was too loud, the heavy bass making him wince, the air was too close, too warm, the bodies that kept shoving past him made him want to shower for two hours straight and then wash his hands as well. He’d turned down the drink Derek had offered him, knowing the exact amount of bacteria that swarmed the ice behind the bar, on the rims of the glasses, on the taps- 

Spencer was more than overwhelmed. And talking to beautiful women was not helping his flushed demeanour whatsoever. 

“I mean, excessive amounts of alcohol, countless opportunities for date rape drugs, not to mention suprisingly risky behaviour being pursued,” He counted off, his satchel strapped tightly to his side, “All right, so who wants a flyer?” The three women turned their nose up in awkward smiles, the tallest pushing past him with little more than an outright scoff, the other girl following her like lost dogs, “Nobody? Okay, all right,” He said, his face crestfallen at their reaction, though he wasn’t so unused to it. Girls tended to react that way when he spoke, his entire high school career had been the same. Infact, the only girl other than his co-workers who ever bothered to listen when he spoke was-

“I’ll take one,” A voice came from behind him, the same one he had incidentally been thinking of since they’d left Emily’s apartment, and he could already tell she was smiling before he whipped around to see her slinking through the crowd. 

He was ready to retort something clever, but felt his words congeal in his throat. He had thought, that day when he’d stopped the elevator and seen her in a sodden wedding dress, that he had seen her at her most beautiful. Yes, her makeup had been tracking down her face with her tears, her hair sticking to her cheeks, her expression weepy. But she had reminded him of a star, glistening with the rain, the water shimmering off the snow white fabric, it had taken his breath away then, even when she’d thrown her arms over his shoulders, as if he was the only thing that she could grab on to for safety. 

But that dress was nothing like the one she wore now. 

It was nothing extravagant, and truthfully he’d seen at least ten girls in this club alone that had gone way more lavish than she had bothered to on such short notice. But, Spencer couldn’t help but take her whole image in as she shoved her way in front of him, an easy smile on her face. 

“Beats boxers and pyjama shirts, huh?” She twirled cheekily, warming under his gaze that blinked heavily at her. The dress had been an old thing she’d bought for a frat party, when she’d felt particularly sorry for herself and was going out looking for a bonehead jock to take home. It fit her nicely, complimented the areas she wanted it to, hid the others. A good fail safe option for a last minute night out like this. Covered the kevlar vest Hotch and Emily had wrangled her into.

Not her finest moment, being jumped on by her older sister as her boss forced the bullet jacket over her head; the new girl, Jordan, staring in discomfort as she’d cursed both of them out colourfully for ruining her outfit, but the way Spencer seemed to gulp heavily made her smile wider. 

“You look…” He swallowed again, his fingers digging into the flyers in his hand. Hot. She looked hot. Hot enough that he felt his face flush with the same feeling, he hoped she couldn’t see the way he blushed beneath the club lights, “Beautiful,” He settled on, because ‘hot’ was an entirely Derek word to use. 

“So you keep telling me,” Bugsy preened under his gaze, grinning like she knew something he didn’t. Grabbing one of the flyers from his sweaty palms gently, she took a look at the general sketch, not noticing the way he had yet to tear his eyes off her, “Alright, this the guy?” 

“Yeah, we think he has a mark of some sort- like a birthmark or a scar over his left eyebrow,” He informed, corralling her towards where Morgan stood, his own eyes widening at the girl’s attire. 

They knew she was coming to help scout the scene, they didn’t realise she’d come so ready. Derek immediately felt stupid for doubting her. 

“Woah, did someone call the fire department, because you’re about to set the damn sprinklers off,” He teased, her face lighting up at the man she knew had a way of making her feel a million bucks every time he saw her. 

Emily said he had little sisters of his own, and maybe that was how he knew just what to say. He had many years of experience being the best big brother. 

“Oh, please, you guys spoil me,” She snickered, though her eyes scanned the crowd for a general scope of the club. Safe to say she did not miss the eight pm till four am shifts she used to pull, nor did she miss the drunk bodies swaying around her, the men who would get handsy, the girls who would get scrappy, “So, how’s it going?” 

“Not good, I gave the profile to one woman and she asked if I was the unsub,” Spencer sighed, running a hand through his rogue curls, the humidity of the stuffy bar making them tighten around his ears just that bit more. “How are you doing?” 

“Well, I gave out all my flyers,” Derek said smugly, though Spencer’s eyebrows raised, a smile teasing at his lips. 

“Oh yeah? How many phone numbers did you get?” Bugsy snorted at his words, looking between the men with a smirk. 

“None, I’m working the case here, kids,” Derek tutted, to which Spencer and Bugsy looked at eachother with identical doubt, flicking their gaze back to Morgan. He huffed, “Okay, four were offered, but I didn’t take any of them.” 

Spencer’s jaw dropped, face scrunching in confusion how Morgan was so charismatic with women even when he wasn’t trying. 

“Alright, I’m gonna go grab more flyers from the van. You,” He clapped a hand on Spencer’s shoulder, “Need to relax, man. Remind me to teach you the basics on picking up girls. And you,” Derek pointed to where Bugsy nodded patiently, “Make sure wonder boy doesn’t get eaten alive. And stay together.” 

She nodded again, watching him leave through the crowd; already a woman grabbed on his arm for his attention, where she watched him politely decline with one of those flirty smoulders he’d mastered. 

“I don’t get how he does it. I mean, I get he has the whole body of a God thing going for him,” Spencer sighed, as the two of them went back out into the crowd, scanning for a group of girls who looked particularly sober enough to listen, “But, he just has this way, you know. I’ll don’t think I’ll ever have the way,” 

“Don’t put yourself down like that,” She chastised, nudging him affectionately with her elbow, “You’re very beautiful yourself, you know? You don’t need some stupid way, you just need to be yourself,” 

She said it as if it was nothing, as if it hadn’t just hit him in the chest that she thought he was attractive, though he still remembered that first day they’d met when she assumed he was a stripper. 

His heart swelled in his chest. 

“You really think so?” He asked unsure, waiting for her to laugh in his face and tell him it had just been a tease, she was good at those. But she was never cruel. Never to him. He didn’t know why he’d expected it. 

“Absolutely! I’ve seen like three girls already giving you goo-goo eyes. Believe me, you got the looks,” She simpers, watching his eyes scan the crowd to look for the supposed culprits. 

“So, what, it’s my personality they don't like?” He asked, though he knew that was more than likely the case. He’d always been told he buzzed in people’s ears like a fly, like he was simply background noise the greater population wanted to tune out. 

He knew that would be it. It didn’t stop the small stab of hurt in his stomach however. 

“If someone doesn’t like your personality, that is a them problem, Spencer, not you,” Bugsy was quick to snap, the joking lessening in her eyes as she caught his dejected expression, “Girls like it when you talk about something you enjoy, something you know what you’re talking about. Which should be easy, since you know everything. What do you feel most comfortable talking about?” 

“Statistics,” He said with a nod, to which she looked at him fondly.

“Okay, we have statistics as a backup option. Anything else?” She looked at him, the light bouncing off her eyes in a way that had him pause to think. 

“Magic?” He offered, and she smiled even wider, if that was even possible. 

“Magic! Perfect, girls love feeling magical,” She beamed, nudging him again with her elbow, and the two of them walked over to the bar, “Show me then, Gandalf. What moves would you pull on me if I was a girl?”

He blinked at her, “Are you … not a girl?” He asked, pure bewilderment on his face as he stole a few napkins from the counter. 

She snickered, “Okay, if I wasn’t me. If you didn’t know me,” 

“If I didn’t know you, I’d be way too nervous to even talk to you. And you definitely wouldn’t want to talk to me,” He said as he fiddled with the paper between his obnoxiously long fingers, folding the sheets into miniature shapes. 

She chuckled at him, shaking her head. It had never been like this with them before. Sure, she teased him, like she always had, but he was teasing back. Complimenting her with a seriousness beyond just being nice. 

Something was different in him since the day Cyrus dragged her away. And if that hadn’t done it, then seeing her every morning for two weeks had changed the boyish anxiety that had lingered even then. 

“Stop stalling and show me these tricks of yours,” She bit playfully, though the grin she gave him was genuine as she saw something mischievous flash in his eyes. 

“Patience is virtue, patience is virtue-” He murmured, fiddling with the short, plastic straws they kept at the bar, “Now for this to work, I’m going to need a beautiful assistant. Do you think you could find one for me-” 

She smacked his arm, and he snickered. She shook her head, fighting her own laugh overcoming her. 

Maybe she was right. Talking about something he loved made him feel entirely at ease, like he controlled every angle their conversation took, and the air between them had taken this odd electric turn he wasn’t expecting like someone had pumped a thousand volts under his skin.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” He replied, holding out one of the straws, about as plain and simple as it would be if it were in a drink, “But I will need some magic words,”

“Ofcourse,” She drawled, her cheeks hurting from how tight she was smiling, “What are they?”

“Magic words are, ‘I’ll be there’” He instructed, fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves as he watched her frown, and he pointed the straw at her mouth like a microphone, “You got it?” 

“Yep,” She responded, even though the confusion read clear as day on her face. He tapped the straw on her nose and cleared his throat. 

“3, 2, 1,” He tapped it to her temple, then to each of her shoulders, “Go on a date with me?” 

“I’ll be there,” She responded, and in a strobe of light the single instrument became a trio of origami roses, stuffed into the straws as stems. 

Her brain caught up to her as he gently placed them in her hand, her eyes gazing at him like he had just presented her with a 24 carat diamond, though in reality it was nothing more than a silly trick with napkins and plastic. 

“Spencer,” She said earnestly, and he could have sworn her voice quivered for a split second, before she shook her head at him, punching him on the hip gently, “You are the most humble man I’ve ever met. You do that to any other girl and you’re getting laid, I’m telling you,” 

He rubbed his chin bashfully, both of them catching the way the waitress behind the bar watched him with large, blue eyes Bugsy could have bathed in. She was gorgeous, and she stared at Spencer as if she’d been the one given roses. 

Attracted. Interested. 

“Talk to her,” Bugsy whisper-yelled, nodding over to the barmaid who busied herself with another order, though they both saw the way her flicking glances to the two of them as she scooped ice, “She would have seen if a guy like that frequented somewhere like here, talk to her,”

“What- no-” He protested, but his eyes widening as Bugsy leaned over the bar to flag the woman down with that playful charisma of hers, not missing the way a few heads turned as the dress tightened around her ass as she bent forward. 

He felt his chest flash with anger, glaring at the men, hoping it was enough to ward them off. Her hand enclosed around his wrist, drawing his attention back to the bartender who watched him with a sweet face. He had to admit she was attractive. 

“This is my very best friend, Spencer,” Bugsy told the woman, who smiled at him, and the Prentiss girl lifted his hand up to wave at her like he was a ragdoll, “Spencer, wanted to show you something, didn’t you, Spence?” 

Raising her eyebrows at him, nodding to the flyers in his hand. 

“I’m gonna go dance,” She fibbed, knowing she was going to go scout out the crowd to see if any guys fit the profile, nudging him a little harder than before, “Remember what we talked about. I’ll be by the DJ,” 

Grinning encouragingly, he watched her swoop into the crowd like it was second nature, not missing the collection of guys who watched her every move; she captured the room when she moved, when she smiled, when she politely excused herself past a group of girls that tried to pull her into their circle with friendly cheers. 

He did another one of his tricks for Austin, he’d come to learn was the name of the girl behind the bar, but it hadn’t felt the same, not even when she gave him her number unprompted, even as she flirted, smiled prettily, batted those sea blue eyes at him. It wasn’t the same. 

He worried for a moment that the electricity he’d felt was reserved only for Bugsy, but he squashed it down faster than he could confront the idea. 

2. The one where he nearly dies

“I don’t know how to do this,” JJ confessed, her bluebell eyes filled with tears as she stared out of her boss’ office and into the bullpen full of officers, scientists and even the damn military tearing through pages and pages of resources for answers. 

Anthrax. A weapon of mass destruction they’d already had a small dose of, was on the move through the BAU’s own city. And they each had strict instructions to not alert their loved ones. 

“I can’t stop thinking about Henry,” She whimpered through a strong facade as she turned to Hotch, and she saw the same guilt eating him up in those dark eyes of his that rarely let anything slip. 

He had Jack. He had Haley, even with the divorce papers signed so long ago. He had people at risk too. And yet she couldn’t stop seeing her precious little boy’s face as he lay back in his pushchair and enjoyed the sights of the park, the same park that had just been targeted with an airborne disease-

“He goes for a walk almost every single day at Potomac Park,” She sniffed, the nausea chewing away at her brain as she recounted the lesions on that poor teenage girls skin, that's going to be Henry, that’s going to be Will, “What type of mother am I if I don’t atleast call and tell them to stay home?” 

“JJ, we can’t,” Hotch said, though he felt his own dam start to tear down as he tried not to think of what could possibly happen to his own sweet son. 

“I know, but-” Her throat bobbed, “It-it’s not just me- Emily’s worried about Bugsy. She told me she cuts through the park on the way to her lectures- she has one every day this week- Hotch-”

It was true. She had caught Emily in her own turmoil as the woman sped off to grab a drink seconds after chugging down the dose of Cipro they’d all been given that morning. She’d caught her filling a glass of water until the liquid started leaking down the sides and went over her shaking fingers, and even then she’d had to tug her friend out of whatever rabbit hole the words ‘Media Blackout’ had sent her down. 

“I understand you both have people you want to protect,” Hotch was the voice of reason, as he always was, and it stung her to see his face so cold since she knew he was drowning his own sorrows behind it, “But if we all called home and used this information to give us an advantage other people don’t have, is that the right thing to do?” 

She bit her lip, knowing he was right. She just prayed on everything she had Will would stay home with Henry today, Haley would have a movie night with Jack, and for whatever she had seen in Emily’s eyes earlier, a pure, unadulterated self-loathing, that Bugsy at least took the day off teaching.

JJ prayed, and prayed, and prayed. 

–

She shuffled her notes together as she marked papers at her desk. They let her take the office to herself since she’d been at the University for five months now, gave her free reign of her lectures without having a supervisor like they had the first eight weeks or so. Bugsy enjoyed, surprising as it was to her, the feeling of somewhere that wasn’t the laboratory. Emily and Spencer had forced her to apply for jobs when they caught her binge watching real housewives for the sixth time back to back, of course lacking any bottoms. 

Emily didn’t know why she thought twenty-four year old Bugsy would be any different. They had thought at least that Derek holding her hair back on the night of her birthday party as she threw up copious amounts of jello shots on the sidewalk would be an eye opening moment, but it hadn’t deterred her in the slightest. She had just chucked a handful of gum in her mouth, patted the man on the back and asked Emily to hit up the drive thru on their way home. 

It wasn’t until she got the job did she feel a little bit more responsible, like what she was doing actually affected the people around her. Teaching first year college students was so very different than she’d expected, she was the authority figure. 

She could hear her mother laughing at her now. 

She almost smudged the little smiley face she’d drawn beside one of her student’s B+ as the phone rang on her desk, because she had an office phone believe it or not, and she cleared her throat, trying to sound as grown up as possible whilst also trying not to grin how excited she was to use her new landline. 

“Miss Prentiss speaking, who’s calling?” She said, almost not recognising herself as she squeezed her gel pen in delight. She had this grown up thing down to a tea.

“Hi, Bug.” Spencer’s voice sounded out of breath, and she heard his converse slapping against a linoleum floor fast, as if he was pacing, “I got a quick hypothetical to run through with you,” 

“Y-yeah, sure- Where are you?” She asked, her brows furrowing when he gave a wheezy cough, “Spence?”

“I’m not allowed to tell you, but I’m fine- for now,” He winced as he said the last part, as if it had slipped unintentionally, as if he knew what was coming next. He could practically hear her brain ticking over, “So, when you’re in the lab-”

“What do you mean for now?” She cut him off, standing up from her desk, already collecting her pencils back into their little pink case, “Where’s Emily? Is she okay? Is anyone hurt?”

“Everyone’s fine; as I was saying, hypothetically, when you’re in the lab where would you-” He talked over her right back, his slender fingers flicking through the piles of work, hoping he stumbled on a formula, a sticky note, a damn cheat sheet, anything. 

“Don’t avoid my question, Spencer,” She snapped, and she could already feel the worry lines on her forehead. 

He sighed, hoping she couldn’t hear the way his chest rattled and he choked down a cough. It would only make her worry more. 

“I promise I will tell you what’s going on if you just answer my question,” Spencer rushed, feeling his face growing sweaty, opening the entire cabinet of drawers. “Okay?”

She nodded, biting her nail, as she sat back down. “Okay fine, shoot,”

“Where would you put your valuable items if you didn’t trust your lab partner while the two of you were working together?” He asked, wiping his brow with his sleeve as he held the phone tight to his ear with his shoulder. 

She paused for a moment, “Well it’s standard practice that all jewellery comes off before we get scrubbed, so as not to contaminate anything. I usually put my scrunchie through my rings and tied it back into my hair so they wouldn’t get stolen. I knew some guys who put their watches around their ankles. Basically anywhere we could feel it on us,” 

He cleared his throat again, and she heard him take a few steps, “How’s grading papers going? Did you get a fax machine yet?” 

He was trying to change the subject, trying to take her mind off whatever it was he was doing that required such an urgent and peculiar question. 

“It’s going good, I miss you bringing me coffee; it was like I had a maid who helped me with my crosswords,” She said, biting her bottom lip squeezing her thumb in the middle of her fist to slow the nerves. He tried to pretend he wasn’t smiling hearing that. “Now tell me what’s wrong. Did you go running without your inhaler again? I told you to leave a spare at ours so I could rescue you if you ever-” 

“Bugsy, you’re a genius!” He cried, ignoring the way it made his throat burn, “Remind me to tell you every single day how smart you are- I have to go,” 

“Spence- Spencer-” She tried to cut in, but he had already put the phone down. 

So much for not worrying her, she thought, as she got on the phone to Emily within seconds. 

-

Bugsy all but burst through the hospital doors, apologising when she nearly knocked a stack of files from a nurse's hands, wishing she had an inhaler herself after she had ran all the way from the car park, including the three flights of stairs. 

After calling in sick the rest of the day, and practically volleying her rucksack into the passenger's seat of her car, she had blindly called Emily four more times until the woman answered with a frightened lilt to her voice. 

Spencer was headed to the hospital. Spencer was headed there on full blues with lungs full of an even deadlier strain of Anthrax. Last Emily had heard he was getting worse. Bugsy put her foot down on the pedal even harder. 

She knew the speeding ticket would come any day, and didn't even want to think about the state of her parking. All she cared about the second the lady at the desk had said what room he was in was seeing he was okay, that he wasn’t growing lesions or choking on his own blood or having half of his brain boiled alive. 

Bugsy felt a small spike of panic, if it could even get worse, as she yanked the curtain back to see him asleep, a cannula tucked into his nose, a hospital gown tied over his shoulders. 

Diving for his file that was attached to the end of his bed, she looked through his information to check what meds he’d been given. He once told her he was allergic to narcotics, said he had been since birth, and while she trusted one of the team to have passed the information on, she had to see it for herself that he was stable. 

No narcotics given. Only paracetamol for his fever that was rapidly coming down. She could breathe again. 

She jumped out of her skin when the curtain rail was pulled back a second time, and Derek seemed to startle for a moment too before a tired smile met his handsome face. 

“Where have you been, Baby Prentiss?” His breath knocked out of him when she threw herself at him, a sigh of relief coming from her bitten lips. 

“Oh, thank god you’re okay,” She murmured, and his chuckle echoed through his chest into her ear, “You all worried me half to death,”

“You’re looking very grown up,” He teased as he patted her on the back. And she was. She had taken to wearing maxi skirts and tights, even throwing on a cute blazer for affect, she was the teacher after all. She shoved him away with a smack to the chest. He laughed, holding up the opened pot of jell-o to her face, “Jell-o?”

She gagged, filled with memories of her birthday. 

He shook his head with a smile as she sat down in the seat next to the bed and he spooned the first mouthful of the fruity dessert into his mouth. 

“Is everyone else alright?” She asked, wringing her hands together. She fought back the urge to tuck Spencer’s curls behind his ear, knowing he was sleeping peacefully.

“Stop worrying. Team’s fine; we caught the guy and confiscated his supply. Even saved the last few survivors with you telling Reid where to look,” Morgan watched her jaw feather, and she picked under her nails. 

“I keep telling you guys, I didn’t do anything. I just… spoke to him. He’s the genius, not me,” She said solemnly, staring into her lap with a frown. 

“Not to him. Whole journey back, before the aphasia kicked in, he kept telling paramedics to tell Doctor Kimura it was you who’d figured it out.” Derek said, but it seemed to make her sulk more. 

She said nothing, pulling out her book from her bag to continue reading as she waited for him to wake up, and Derek took it as a sign she was in no mood to talk, god forbid even take a compliment, and opened the magazine he’d grabbed from the cafeteria. 

–

Half an hour and another pot of pudding for Morgan later (she gagged again at the sweet strawberry smell of it), the pair of them sat in silence, reading their own materials when a very sleepy, doe eyed man looked up and frowned.

“Are you eating Jell-O?” Spencer asked, barely noticing the girl on the other side of the bed, who shot up out of her seat as he came around. 

“Hey doc. You have a visitor,” Morgan said with a small smile, Spencer’s face falling into a frown. He looked to the other side of him, just in time to see a worn copy of Middlemarch being flung to the floor and a hand grabbing his clammy ones tightly. 

“Spencer I’m- I’m so mad at you-” She gasped, every soppy feeling of sadness she’d been stewing in leaving her body when she saw his hazel eyes fall to her, “You put the phone down on me and next thing I know you’re in the back of an ambulance nearly flatlining- I’m so-” 

She breathed when she saw his eyes soften. He didn’t think she knew it but he saw the way her eyes glistened, her voice trembled underneath her anger. He felt the way she had yet to let go of his hand, how nice and warm it felt in his palm. 

“I’m sor-” He hadn’t even finished his apology when she had latched onto him, trying not to hug him too tight but hard enough she could tell herself he was still here. He was okay. 

And he could understand. He’d felt the same when they’d found her in that church, when Cyrus had hauled her away after she’d practically offered herself up in exchange for him. He’d known she was braver than she gave herself credit for, but that had stopped his heart right there and then. He had grabbed her in a hug the first chance he’d got even then, even when he barely knew her, when she was Emily’s sister and not Bugsy. Not the woman he’d spent every morning with for weeks bringing her a coffee just the way she enjoyed it, the woman he’d sat with on Emily’s couch with her legs across his lap as they did the puzzles in the morning paper together. She tried to do them, and he would finish them when she got too annoyed by the ones she couldn’t answer. 

“I’m sorry,” He said, his arms gently hugging her back and he felt something wet on his shoulder blade before he knew what it was. He felt even worse for worrying her, squeezing her tighter than was even comfortable for him. 

“Don’t do that to me again,” She said through tears as she settled in his arms. 

He really hoped she couldn’t hear the way his heart pounded. 

3. The one at Haley’s funeral

She had no idea what to say. Emily had always been the one who knew how to talk to people. She had this horrible habit of saying the first thing that came to her head, probably because a lot of the time it was the most real, and people liked real. 

But now wasn’t the time for what was best for her. Haley Hotchner had been murdered. 

She hadn’t spoken to Hotch yet, she’d only met the man a handful of times. But he’d invited her anyway, for the team. For Emily, maybe even Spencer; Emily said he liked when she was around. She couldn’t imagine any other reason she would be there. 

Other than, ofcourse, to be Spencer’s crutch. Literally. Since his real one had broken and he was still limping around with one knee weakened by the bullet wound in it. 

She’d nearly had a heart attack when he’d called from the hospital, again, though this time he’d waited until he’d gotten the all clear to tell her so she didn’t panic quite as much as last time. She’d cursed him out for being so reckless, and requested another week's sick pay to take care of him until he was able to actually walk. It was only a one year contract with the university anyway, she didn’t care if she missed a few days to make sure he was okay. 

“You look very handsome today,” She whispered to him as she hauled him out of the car, minding that he didn't hit his head on the ceiling. He gave her a small smile and tucked her own hair behind her ear seeing it come loose from its braid when she’d leaned down to grab him. 

“Just today?” He asked, and she finally smiled back. She’d been stuck in a bubble in the car; her and Emily both had. They had the same thinking face, he’d realised. 

“Just especially today,” She answered honestly, and he worked on adjusting his black jacket so she could hold onto him comfortably. She was quieter than usual. Feeble, almost. 

“Thankyou, you do too,” He replied, his face scrunching after a moment, “Look pretty I mean,” 

He leaned on her arm, looped it around hers as he tried to be the least amount of imposing as possible. That went about as well as you’d expect for a six foot one bag of bones. 

She gave up after just a few steps, moving his arm to wrap around her shoulder as she walked with him. To anyone else they would easily pass as a couple, especially as she squeezed him tightly to her when the men laid down Hayley’s coffin, and the service began. 

“W.S Gilbert wrote ‘It’s love that makes the world go around’ and if that’s true, then the world spun a little faster with Hayley in it.” Aaron began, his voice strong as his large hands gripped the eulogy like it would give him any comfort. She smiled softly, her eyes glued to the man who stood unmoving for his son, “Haley was my best friend since we were in high school. We certainly had our struggles but if there’s one thing we agreed on unconditionally, it was our love and our commitment to our son, Jack,” 

Bugsy smiled sadly when Jack looked to the floor bashfully. Glancing between the photo on top of the coffin, a beautiful blonde woman grinning back at her with brilliantly happy eyes and a soft face, she saw where he got most of his looks from. 

“Haley’s love for Jack was joyous, and fierce. That fierceness is why she isn’t here today. A mother’s love is an unrivalled force of nature, and we can all learn much from the way Haley lived her life. Haley’s death causes each of us to stop and take stock of our lives. To measure who we are and who we’ve become.” She felt Spencer’s head knock into hers, felt the sniff run through him, and she searched her pocket for a tissue, “I don’t have all those answers for myself, but I know who Haley was. She was the woman who died protecting the child we brought into this world together; and I will make sure Jack grows up knowing who his mother was. And how she loved and protected him. And how much I loved her.” 

If Haley were here today she would tell us not to mourn her death. She would tell us-” Aaron cut himself off with a watery voice, his resolve finally melting as he realised this would be some of his final words to his wife. Bugsy felt her bottom lip quiver in remorse, “She would tell us to love our families unconditionally. And to hold them close because in the end they are all that matter.” 

Spencer felt her tug him closer as she hid the lone few tears from the rest of the mourners and wished more than ever he could press a small kiss to her brow.

–

No, Bugsy was not good with knowing what to say and when. Wasn’t good at cheering people up no matter how much Spencer told her she always made him feel better. Didn’t really know much about how to make someone understand that she cared other than showing them with her whole body. 

So by the time it was her turn to offer condolences, she didn’t bother shaking his hand. That meant nothing to her. That was a business deal, that was an agreement, a formal way to pretend you cared. But she did, she felt terrible for Hotch, wanted to fix him and his sweet son until Haley was right back there to thank her. 

She didn’t shake his hand like everyone else had. He held his hand out for one, his eyes soft and warm, like he could see she was struggling. She brushed past his hand and just pulled him in for a hug, and he wondered if she was always going to greet him that way. 

“I guessed that sorry wouldn’t make anything better so I brought you the biggest bottle of wine the store had,” She murmured into his chest, and she was gobsmacked to hear him chuckle weakly. She felt his hands pat her on the back gently, and he appreciated her candour. “I’ve got some Xanax if you’d really like a treat,” 

She was a breath of fresh air. Aaron truthfully had been sick of people saying they were so sorry for his loss, and he felt like shaking them and yelling, screaming that they hadn’t been the one to kill Haley, Foyet had. 

He pushed all of it down, focusing on the way she’d tucked herself to him like she had the day she’d become a runaway bride dripping rainwater over his bureau floor. 

“She would have really liked you,” Aaron confessed, and they finally parted, and she saw he was smiling like he meant it, not just saying it to make her feel more comfortable being here. “You would have made her laugh,”

He saw the easy expression on her face fade, and she turned to look at her heels, nodding quietly. 

“I would have been lucky to have known her,” She said, handing him the gift bag with a very heavy present inside. “I only wish someone would ever love me the way you love her,’ 

And with that she bid him a smile, and returned to her seat in between Emily and JJ, the pair of them mother henning her all day.

Aaron wished he could have said more to her after that, but before he knew it, someone else was offering him their condolences, and the sadness in her voice was forgotten.

–

The team sat around the table, nursing their beers, or in Spencer and Bugsy’s case a tea. Spencer didn’t want to affect his healing process with alcohol, not that he’d ever been big on the stuff, and Bug said she struggled driving even without the help of a beer, so they chatted between sips from two very fancy china cups. 

Emily and JJ sat to the other side of her talking about how beautiful the flower arrangements were when a small, fawn haired body came wandering over to where Will held a one year old Henry on his knee. 

“Would he like to play?” Jack asked shyly, trying to peer up onto the adults table to see if there were any other kids his age that would like to do something with him. His dad had been busy talking to all those people, and auntie Jessica had been trying to make it round to every table to thank people for being here. He didn’t entirely understand what was happening, in all honesty.

“He’s still a little too small yet honey. In a year or so, you guys can be best friends,” JJ said sweetly as he pulled his chin up to the tabletop and spied the younger woman sitting next to uncle Spencer.

He tottered over to her, where she sat unaware she had a shadow until Spencer's face softened as he looked behind her, and she swivelled around in her seat. 

“Hello,” Jack said quietly, looking up at where she seemed to buffer, feeling eight pairs of eyes on her as she interacted with the small boy.

She had never been good with children, had never been around them since she was their age, even the kids she taught now were all at least eighteen. 

The mantra to absolutely not fuck up the next few moments reverberated around her head. 

She gave him a soft smile, holding out a hand for him to shake, “Hi, Jack. I’m Emily’s sister. You can call me Bugsy,”

His tiny nose scrunched as he watched her, shaking her hand the way dad had shown him how. 

“Bugsy? That’s a weird name,” He said, and she chuckled, “Like the bunny?”

She shrugged, “I guess like the bunny, yeah,” although she had never thought of that before. 

“Would you like to play with me?” Jack asked, and she felt her chest warm unnaturally. He had such a sweet face. It was just like the woman in the picture.

Smiling at him crookedly, she rooted around her bag for the notebook and pens she kept for her to-do lists. Maybe Spencer was rubbing off on her. 

“We could do some drawing if you want?” She offered, showing him the pad with kind eyes. That seemed to satiate him as he grabbed her knee and started pulling himself up to sit in her lap, and she paused. 

Kids were so funny, she realised, she would never just start grabbing someone she just met and asking to climb on their lap. 

She got him comfortable on her knee, not noticing the flashing glances Spencer gave her between his conversation with Kevin, Garcia’s beau, as Jack started drawing a bunny with a human face, that was supposedly meant to be her. 

Spencer watched her giggle as he gave the rabbit a pretty dress, like the one she was wearing, and Spencer had to admit it was a pretty dress she’d gone for today. Had he not been so mournful earlier he thinks he would have blushed how tight she’d held him. 

She showed him how to play noughts and crosses, and she let him win most of them, laughing when he asked to tear out the page from her notebook to show his dad later. 

That is, until the man himself came over to the table of his work colleagues, only to see the group watching their youngest playing with his sweet son. 

“Bugsy,” Hotch said, and her head shot up to him, a guilty look passing over her face, worried she’d overstepped, though the fact he hadn’t said her real name said otherwise, “Can I talk to you for a moment outside, please?”

She blinked, straightening in her seat “O-ofcourse!” Shuffling Jack off her lap as fast as she could without hurting him, smoothing out her dress down as she followed him to the small balcony the funeral home had. It was a classy manor, but she guessed Hotch would have only had the best for Haley. 

“I’m sorry if I overstepped, Jack asked to sit on my lap- and- I’m not good with kids anyway I just didn’t want to tell him no, especially not today-” He put his hand on her shoulder to shut her up, a small smile spreading on his face. It was fatherly and calming, something her own father had been much too busy to ever bother with.  

“Not at all, that’s not why I called you out here,” He reassured, squeezing her gently as he leaned against the railing, taking a deep breath of the midnight air, and he felt his professional mask begin to slip. “I’ve been thinking… about how much help you've been to us over the years. Reid would be dead if it wasn’t for you.” She opened her mouth to protest, and he flashed her a look that said he was serious. “Let me finish,”

She wrung her hands guiltily, “Sorry,” 

“You’re very resilient far beyond your years, you’re incredibly charismatic when you need to be, and you’re by far one of the smartest people your age,” He said, watching her face to see how she felt. He knew she didn’t take compliments well, for some other reason they could dig into any other day. But he needed to say it now, needed her to know now for what he was about to ask her. 

“Whether that is true or not, why are you telling me this?” She asked politely, without the usual bite that went with it when they tried calling her something she wasn’t. 

“I need to take some time off to spend with Jack, try and help him…” He trailed off, unsure as to what he wanted to say. “Help him understand Haley’s not coming home,”

She nodded with a glistening lash line, and grabbed onto his arm gently.

“My team looks to me to be their glue, but I know I can’t keep everyone together and look after my son. Emily said your contract at the University was ending,” He cleared his throat, looking at her again with something vulnerable in his sable black eyes, “So I was wondering if you would reconsider the FBI academy? It’s only twenty weeks, but Rossi and I can put you forward to do the written exams earlier if you’d like, and then Strauss can have you assigned a trainee position at the BAU-” 

“Anything,” She nodded, “Anything you need, I’ll do it,” and he hugged her for once. Maybe it was the way she had said it so willingly, no matter her own reservations about joining the academy, no matter her stubbornness and resistance to her sisters pestering, or even the fact they all talked weekly about how much easier their job would be if she was there. Her and Reid’s brains together were a force to be reckoned with. 

And he knew, the surprisingly kind girl that clutched at him back, would keep his team together, would be the glue to keep their heads on while he took some time to watch his son. 

“Thankyou,” He murmured into her hair, and she forced herself not to get weepy at the grief in his voice. Of all people here, she was the last person who should be allowed to cry. Least of all to him. 

He pulled away from her eventually, cursing himself for letting the front slip, but it was as if she had that effect on everyone on the team, like she had this little way of worming her way between that gap in their chests where their hearts once were before they’d seen the things they had, dealt with the people they had. 

It was for that reason Aaron knew they would be just fine. 

“You know, when I was a kid, mom got letters every day from people with their own agendas against her,” Bugsy said once they’d taken a gulp of cool night air, “They all said the same thing; that they were going to take me for ransom unless she left the country. She didn’t think much of it until a guy started following the car home from school and she decided to get me trained in self defence,” 

Hotch frowned, his chest tightening. He knew how it felt to be a parent on edge for his kid’s safety, but to hear it from the other side cut deeper. 

“Which was fine, I got a pretty mean shot if I say so myself, but eventually it progressed into hostage training, in case…” She swallowed dryly, clearing her throat and picking her nails, “I wet the bed the first time they grabbed me, the whole idea was that I wouldn’t know it was coming. They let me go pretty fast, I don’t think they’d expected the eleven year old to reach for the kitchen knife,” 

Hotch scoffed, shaking his head in horror, though he didn’t doubt her for a second. 

“I slept with it next to my bed for a year, so that next time they came for me, they would think twice and let me sleep in,” She said with a thoughtful smile.

“And did it work?” He asked, watching her run her hands along the stone wall beneath his  elbow. 

“I dunno, but the one guy left pretty quick when I almost took his eye out,” She giggled, and the sound made him laugh quietly as well, “My point is, you’ve got nothing to worry about with Jack. Kids like us, we get made tougher, resilient. And with parents like you two, I’d say he had a pretty good head start.” Bugs said, smiling to herself flicking a glance up to his face that said just how touched he was. Deciding he was likely waiting for her to turn around before he let himself cry, she took a step back, heading towards the reception. “I mean look at me, I turned out alright!” 

She barely heard his small chuckle that faded into a weep before she shut the door behind her, heading back over to the table where the team sat, Jack now with his auntie Jessica, and their eyes fell on her, waiting to hear whatever it was she had to say. 

Taking a deep breath, she gave them an awkward smile, “Guess I’m joining the academy afterall,” 

And that was all she got out before Garcia dived on her with an excited cuddle. 

4. The one with his new hair

He knew he was sweeping his fingers through his hair much more often than usual, his hazel eyes flickering to his reflection in car doors in a way that was almost obsessive. He liked what his barber had done, but that wasn’t the point. 

He was hoping she liked it. 

Bugsy had passed the academy with flying colours, not that anyone had ever doubted her, and had been part of the team for all of two weeks, though he would argue she was BAU way before that. Hotch had figured out a staggered schedule where he could take care of Jack four days a week and work the rest until Jack settled back in at school. 

It had been nearly five months since Haley had died, but it hadn’t gotten any easier for the boy. 

Spencer definitely, definitely hadn’t spent the last two weeks practically breathing down her neck whenever they went out into the field, nor had he definitely not found himself fighting off the grin that threatened his composure when he caught her scribbling notes down to herself whilst Penelope presented the cases. 

And he most definitely hadn’t gone out to get a new hair cut in the hopes she would find him more attractive. 

Definitely not.

And yet, her face was the first one he found himself looking at as he stepped into the office, watching as it trailed up from her notebook, her pink gel pen paused mid sentence as the rest of the team went silent, her face spitting into a grin the minute she saw him. 

“What, did you join a boyband?” Hotch asked in a rare moment of teasing, Derek snickering as Emily nudged his arm with her own chuckle. 

“Can I be your groupie?” Bugsy asked, which made them laugh harder, though she stared at him with a small twinkle in her eye the way she always did when he squirmed under her compliments. 

He hadn’t thought she was being mean, not even when they took a moment to settle down, not even when she smiled wryly at him, her eyes flicking up to his hair twice more before her attention was stolen back by Garcia switching the board. 

“Okay, so what are we looking at here? Late twenties, early thirties?” Emily asked after they quietened, adjusting her bangs over her brows. 

“All single, though two are in committed relationships,” Rossi added, flicking through his own pack of notes. “All living on their own,” 

“Looks like normal suburban houses. Give the Unsub privacy,” Morgan added, his face scrunched in disgust as he looked at the crime scene photos. 

“The differences are more striking than the similarities. Different hair colours, different body shapes.” Reid noted, Bugsy’s handwriting scrawling over her notebook as she tried to capture everything they were saying. 

“What do we know about his MO?” Hotch asked JJ, the blonde woman shaking her head with a grimace. 

“That’s why we were invited in, the abduction sites are pristine,” She said gravely, looking between her team as they seemed to balk at the information. 

“No DNA besides the victims, and there’s no sign of forced entry or struggle,” Bugsy noted in the pack Garcia had given her that morning, along with a little pat to the head for good luck. Before now, in those two weeks, they had only dealt with one kidnapping and one group homicide that had turned out to be one very stupid teen spiking drinks at a pool party. This case would be the worst one she’d seen yet. 

“And the victims aren’t reported until two or three days after they’re abducted,” Emily tailed off the end of her sister, her eyes serious as the team came to the same conclusion. 

He had days to spend as much time with the bodies as he wanted. 

“Two or three days? Women like this don’t just disappear without somebody noticing,” Rossi chimed in again, as JJ clicked onto the next screen handing the remote to Garcia. 

“Yes, which is why I had Garcia dig into their lives a little,” She said, taking a seat next to Hotch to let penelope lead. 

“And I took a look at their online activity, I could easily see what the Unsub was doing,” Penelope said, clicking onto a screen full of the women’s profiles. 

Bugsy couldn’t even say she was shocked. Ever since she was in highschool, friendships, or her lack thereof, had been entirely decided on who had the most likes on their status update. Apparently no one found the girl who read Russian Literature for fun cool, nor did they want anything to do with her. Emily didn’t know she’d sat in the school toilets to eat her lunch for three years straight. Turns out kids from every country were bitches. 

“Social Media profiles?” Her older sister asked, though the surprise was evident on her face atleast. 

“Yeah, facebook, twitter, you name an online life-sharing time suck, these victims were on it,” Penelope said, enlarging the screen for the team to see the specifics, “And if you look at each of their last posts, they say kind of the same thing, ‘Going out of town, Going on a business trip, Going on vacation,’ but when you look at the time and date stamps on each of these, queue the twilight zone music because they were all posted the morning after each of them went missing,”

“The unsub posted them?” Hotch concluded, his natural frown deepening. This Unsub had a way to keep all of his victims hidden for much longer than they’d anticipated. Who knows what he could be doing as they spoke. 

“You know, social networks are an easy way for an unsub to target his victims. These women were especially open, they posted everything from what they had for dinner to where they were going on dates,” Spencer said, looking at the print outs Pen had handed to them. 

“The unsub ‘Friends’ his victim, and then uses it as a cover once he takes them,” Derek said, as Bugsy’s face scrunched in disagreement. 

“What are you thinking, Kiddo?” Rossi asked from her left, as he head shot up to see the team watching her, waiting for her input. 

Surprising to everyone, she was somewhat nervous when she’d started at the BAU. The Bugsy Prentiss, the woman who had caught out parts of the Russian Mob when she was just a college student, was nervous to not mess up in front of them. 

“I understand what Derek’s saying, but nowadays you don’t actually have to be friends with someone to follow them.” She said, picking her fingertips in thought, “A lot of people have hundreds of total strangers they’ve never met on their page; some settings mean you don’t even need to be ‘friends’ in the first place to see what they're posting. The UnSub probably wouldn’t even bother implicating himself in the first place by following them, he could just access their profile and see what they're up to. I think he profiles as patient and organised, and somewhat tech savvy if he’s up to date on the way these medias work,” 

The team watched her carefully, Spencer beating down the proud smile he wanted to flash her, knowing he needed to be focused on this case, but she seemed satisfied with her answer when Penelope nodded in agreement.

“So you don’t think he’s an old guy like me, is what you’re saying?” Derek asked with aghast, knowing full well mid thirties wasn’t too old. Hadn’t stopped his pride hurting. 

She shook her head, “I just think he wouldn’t be as old as you. Mine and Reid’s age maybe. But he seems obsessive, and he also must have a job that affords him the spare time to spend the following few days with the bodies, but it means we should also assume that these women are likely already dead,”

She looked to Hotch hopefully, to see him staring at her unreadably for a moment, before he looked to Rossi with a nod. 

David slapped her on the shoulder affectionately, “You just put together your first profile, kid,” 

And before long, they were heading for the jet with her deductions in mind to hand over to the cops. 

–

“Can someone explain to me the appeal of these sites? ‘Eating sushi tonight, yum!’ ‘Boss is keeping me late at work, grr,’” Rossi stared at the status updates, perplexed, as the team snickered to themselves. 

“Now, wait a minute. How did you find my profile?” Bugsy asked jokingly, and she drew a fond smile from Aaron her way when Rossi chuckled to himself. 

He wished she would stop looking so nervous to contribute. She fit right in with the furniture. 

“Whose life is so important that we’d be interested in this kind of detail?” Rossi asked seriously, though Bugsy supposed even the coffee machine was a new useless piece of technology to the man who liked his espresso fresh. 

“That’s just it, no one is. I guess everyone just wanted to believe it to themselves that they all have an audience out there waiting to hear every update of their day. Some of them even have GPS tracking systems in place to make it even easier for people to find out exactly where you are,” Bugsy said, her eyes flicking to Spencer who watched her intently, automatically floating up to take in his new hair again. 

She couldn’t help think he had stopped looking cute, and started looking hot. He’d always been cute, god knows she’d always thought he was good looking. But now he looked… dreamy. It had made her double take the minute he’d walked through the door, hoping it wasn’t too obvious she was staring. 

“That explains how he’s finding them, but it doesn’t tell us how he’s getting into their houses,” Hotch nodded along with her, eying her carefully as she looked through her own notes she’d made once she’d brought herself round to ripping her eyes off Reid. 

“At the very least I believe he has copies of their keys,” Spencer said, his finger trailing the information in his file, “Doris Archer had a home security system installed, but the disable code was entered at 1:56am, so he knew that too. He also found a way to deal with her dog, a German Shepard she adopted from the pound last year, it went missing the night she did,” 

“Did they find the dog?” Bugsy asked, her face in a frown as Emily looked up to her.

“Why? What are you thinking?” She asked her little sister who played with the ‘TRAINEE’ lanyard around her neck. 

“If he hurt the dog, it likely meant the dog had been on alert to him as an intruder, since opportunistic violence isn’t in his profile of being collected and organised. So if he didn’t hurt the dog, and he was found alive and unharmed, it means the dog knew him,” Bugsy explained, and Derek stroked his face in thought. 

“This guy’s gotta be in and out of the house well before the night of the disappearance. He comes up with some ruse, talks his way inside, and then once he’s familiar enough with the house he knows he can come back and kidnap them without disturbing anything,” He said, the girl nodding in agreement with him.

“Think of people you let into your home you don’t consider a threat. Home repair guys, dog walkers?” Rossi offered, but JJ was quick to flick to her own pack. 

“Detective Fordham looked into that too. No one came even close to being a killer,” She shut down, not wanting to waste their time running through avenues that had already been explored. 

“Alright,” Hotch started as he glanced at his watch to see they were landing in around ten minutes, “Morgan and Prentiss, start with the last abduction site, see if anything points to his MO.” 

Bugsy raised her hand politely, as if she were still in class, and he nodded in her direction to speak, “Do you mean as in me when you say Prentiss or as in Emily when you say Prentiss?” She asked, and Emily seemed to be having the same issue as she flicked a glance between the two of them.

“I mean Emily, for you I guess I’ll have to say-” But he stopped himself with a frown. What would he say? Bugsy? No, too informal on a case. Baby Prentiss? Absolutely not. He thinks she might just hit him if he said her first name too much. “We’ll workshop it for now. Dave, you, Prentiss, Reid and JJ go back over the women’s lives. Start with asking around their friends on the sites. If this is how the Unsub is finding them, maybe they’re connected to him without even realising.” 

The team was quiet for a moment, before Spencer pointed to Bugsy with his pen, “So that time you meant Bug, right?”

Dave wished he could protest but he had also been a bit confused, as Hotch rubbed his head tenderly. 

He felt the headache coming already. 

–

“What was it about these women that made him choose them as targets?” Bugsy asked as she and Spencer sat in a small room in the Boise precinct, the three victims' profile pictures staring back at them from the board. 

It was their second day working on the case, and other than Garcia tracking a very disturbing snuff film of the last murder being streamed from the victim’s own IP address using camera’s he’d set up in the home, they had yet to have a big breakthrough. Hotch had told her to leave the room when they’d shown the footage, knowing it was one of her first weeks on the case, and despite having a strong stomach, he wanted her to ease into the role rather than drop her in the deep end head first. 

Even seasoned agents like Morgan and Rossi had both winced, JJ even gagging as they watched it happen. They usually dealt with the aftermath, not have front row seats on the act itself. 

She had been allowed in once the tape had finished, but Reid had immediately shuffled her into the small office they’d been permitted to use by the Boise police, his face a little more peaky than usual.

She wished he wouldn’t worry so much about her, wished he would hide it better when he fretted over her. She was sure he would burst a vessel if he kept flicking his head to look at her, though she just sat staring at the women as if the answer would jump out at her. 

“They’re all pretty, aren’t they?” Bugsy said, swinging her legs beneath the table, her eyes roving over the three faces, “Though unconventionally, they’re still pretty.”

They weren’t his type, Spencer thought, they looked almost nothing like her. She had removed the last of the pink hair dye she’d managed to keep on top of for a year or so before she’d started at the university. Her nose piercing had progressed to a little thin silver hoop, though her earrings had been dialled down for safety reasons in the field, and she kept her hair tied back away from her face most days. She looked older, which was a dumb thing to think, since of course she was older. But she had grown into her face, and Spencer was entirely convinced she took after her father since the only thing she shared with Emily was the same pout when she thought too hard. 

He’d watched her grow for all of three years into the twenty five year old that sat before him, and yet her face had never really changed shape. She still had those pretty eyes that seemed to glint up at him, those soft lips that pursed when she tried not to giggle at him, that perfect nose he would trace the edge of using just his gaze when she had come over to his apartment to study for the academy. She was still as beautiful as the day he’d met her, he thinks part of him had always thought of her in that way. He had just put it down to a pretty girl giving him attention. But girls gave him attention all the time, he had realised since that stakeout at the club, when he’d given her those napkin roses. He just didn’t care for them. 

He only cared about what she thought of him. 

Only cared what her face looked like-

“Wait,” He stopped his thoughts that could go on for days, weeks, about her. They already had, it was difficult to pull himself out of it sometimes. He stared at the photos of the victims, his mind revelling in her own face that he didn’t doubt had guys swooning and falling over their own feet, as he zeroed in on their eyes, cheekbones, septums, “Their faces are all an identical structure,” 

“How did you figure that out?” She asked, wide eyed and he ripped down the photos before she could catch him blushing. 

He thought he might take it to the grave what he’d been thinking about. 

–

“He’s going live,” Hotch seethed, clicking a button on the remote and the whiteboard in the centre of the room lit up with video footage, a small red dot flashing slowly in the corner telling them they were watching it being streamed. 

Bugsy stood behind Spencer, her eyes glued to the small computer at the desk that played the same screen, her heart rate spiking when she saw a small body camera pointing at a house, the UnSub cutting across a lawn in a near sprint. 

He’d lost control completely, and he had another victim set in his sights. 

“He’s not slow, deliberate. This guy’s pissed.” Rossi said, his jaw hung open in horror as the streamer headed straight for the front door. 

“All right, what do we see? Determining markers?” Hotch snapped the groups focus back from the gut wrenching panic that everyone felt, and it was like a switch flipped.

“A one story cottage,” Spencer noted, his eyes glued to the screen so tight he missed the way Bugsy’s face changed colour, and she looked like she was swaying on her feet. 

“That could be anywhere,” Detective Fordham commented back, his face grimacing. 

“Is there a number on the house?” Morgan asked, and everyone leaned in closer to the footage. 

“No, he’s already at the door,” JJ said, running a hand through her long blonde hair. 

Bugsy thought she might be sick. 

“Garcia,” 

“He’s using twice as many proxy servers,” Her shaky voice came through the speaker, furious typing in the background.

“Wait, this window in the background, is that the chat room?” Emily asked, pointing to the small screen at the bottom that flooded with comments from at least forty different users, and more began entering the stream. 

Get that bitch. 

Show her a good time. 

Teach the pigs a lesson for sticking their nose in. 

Bugsy wished she hadn’t been so fast at reading, as she felt her skin go cold at the sight of the comments. 

“People are getting off on it,” She said quietly, but no one heard her, too focused on finding out where the UnSub was. 

“Uh Huh,” Garcia confirmed, as the footage flicked to show a kitchen view, a pretty fair haired woman stood chopping peppers none the wiser to the sick people watching her life before it was about to be ended. 

“He’s in the house, guys,” Reid ran clammy hands over his trousers, his stomach churning as the video went on.

“He’s completely changed his MO,” Derek added, and the team could do nothing but watch in terror, “There’s too much light, what happened?”

“Someone asked the wrong question at the press conference,” JJ explained from beside Reid, her nails bitten to hell. 

“Oh my god, turn around. Just turn around,” Emily begged, and part of her little sister thought she might have been talking about her. 

“Maybe she can fend him off,” Derek said, though even his tone of voice wasn’t convinced. 

“New kitchen appliances, maybe we could check the work order?” Spencer was grasping at straws he knew that, but he couldn’t sit back with that big brain of his working overtime and not try to help at all.

“He’ll be gone by then,” Rossi said, and he wasn’t entirely wrong.

“Garcia, can you give me anything?” Hotch asked, and the sound of typing got even faster if that was possible.

“I’m stateside now, I’m almost to Idaho, I just need more time,” but Garcia was cut of by the man in the video lurching at the innocent woman, his hands wrapping around her neck with a venomous grip, her every moment of pain and terror captured on his body cam for his audience to see. 

His audience including the team. 

Bug felt the bile rise then, felt her eyes burn as she watched the woman’s face freeze in fear, a yelp of “No!” leaving her oesophagus, her small hands coming up to his wrists to try pry him away from her, anything to gasp for another breath of air. 

She wasn’t listening as Hotch barked orders at Garcia, her eyes were stuck on the woman that writhed in pain, pleading with the masked man to spare her. But her rebuttals got weaker, her whimpers began to grow quieter, and soon he’d tackled her to the ground in a blood curdling scream, his whole body weight crushing her throat. 

Her own hand came up to cover her mouth that dropped open in shock, her eyes burning with tears that she couldn't let fall. It was this woman who was suffering, not her. 

There was a bit more struggling from the woman, her eyes bulging from her skull, lips turning blue, until she slumped beneath his hands, and he released her. 

She took a step back, bumping into a chair she hadn’t even known was there as her eyes fixed to the screen, and Spencer’s head shot around to see her shaking on the spot, her eyes haunted. 

Emily followed suit, but Spencer was already out of his seat, rushing forward to grab her arms and lead her outside. 

“I’m gonna get her some air,” He called behind him to the team that watched her go with forlorn glances, and he hated how he felt her trembling beneath his grip, grabbing onto his jacket just as tight. 

They made it halfway down the stairs before she bolted for the bathroom, and he heard her retching as he dipped into the room after her, not caring that the sign clearly stated it was for women. 

“I’m fine, Em, just give me a minute,” She said, and he heard the sniffles between her words. 

“It’s me,” He said, finding the one stall on the end that had it’s door engaged, pulling a cup from out of the dispenser and filling it at the water fountain, “You should drink some water, the cold helps reset your body’s instinct to fight or flight,” 

“Or in my case, make a complete fool of myself and take time away from a time sensitive investigation because I’m such a wuss,” She said cynically, coughing chestily and he heard the toilet flush. 

His forehead creased as he frowned. The door unlocked and she stepped out, her eyes red and teary as she gently took the water from his hands, and he rooted around his pocket for a stick of gum to give her. She chucked it in her mouth, letting the peppermint clear the vile taste from her mouth, hoping she didn’t look too gross. 

“You shouldn’t stand so close to me, toilet bowls are like full of germs and my heads just been in there, I know it makes you feel funny to be around germs-” He pushed her hair behind her ear as if to tell her to stop thinking so loud, and she couldn’t help smile sheepishly at him. “Do you think Hotch will be mad?” 

He shook his head instantly. 

“Mad? No. Worried? Incredibly.” Spencer replied, stroking her hair a little the way his mom used to when he felt sick. 

Bugsy shook her head, sniffing to herself a little more. 

She couldn’t stop seeing that woman’s face as the life slipped from her, the hands around her neck. The yelps and pleads and begs and she fought with everything in her.

“How long was it until you started feeling like this?” She asked earnestly, running a sleeve under her nose, “You’re so brave, I always knew you were but, since I started, it’s like I realised nothing really touches any of you anymore.”

He fought the incredulous laugh, him; brave? The man scared of the dark and elevators brave? 

“We all take things home with us at the end of the day,” He said, wiping under her eyes for her with his own cardigan cuff, “If you didn’t feel anything for the victims we help, you wouldn’t be human, Bug,”

She nodded, “I know. I just don’t want to let anyone down. Not you guys and especially not the people we’re helping,” 

“It’s for that reason I know you’re going to do great,” He said, giving her one of those small Spencer smiles he reserved for when he wanted to see one of hers. 

Her forehead thumped onto his chest as he pulled her a little closer, and his cheek fell on top of her hair as he ran gentle hands over the sides of her arms, calming her until her breath started evening out. 

“You never said,” She pointed out, “How long it took for you to start getting cold feet. Bet I beat some kind of record, two weeks is absolute dog shit,” She chuckled to herself, not noticing how his face evened out in sadness. 

It was Tobias Hankel that had done it. It was getting tied up and injected that had made him feel like a failure, like he wasn’t cut out for anything let alone the force. Like his life was taking a huge spiral downwards. 

But he wouldn’t tell her that, not yet at least. 

“Come on, let’s get you back,” He brushed off, and she figured it was a sore spot for him. She cursed herself for asking in the first place. 

Nodding, she downed the rest of the water and got herself a refill, following him out of the bathroom, looking back up at him for a moment.

“I forgot to say,” Bug said, nudging against his side with her whole body, knocking into him lovingly, “Your new hair is very… dashing. I really like it.”

He swore his face went crimson in a single second.

5. The one with his migraines

“Let me pay for your fuel at least,”

“Spence, just shut up and get in the car,”

That was around about how the past eight months had gone. Every day, she would drive by his apartment, Emily in the passenger seat of her little sisters beat up Renault Zoe, affectionately named after its model, the back seat reserved for Spencer’s lanky legs and satchel bag as she drove the three of them through through roads of Virginia, to work and back again. 

Sometimes he surprised her with coffee, sometimes Emily brought them donuts.  Either way, they all enjoyed their morning routine that had stood the test of time about as much as Bugsy had as part of the BAU. 

It had gotten easier after that first case; she still had her moments, but her skin had thickened to a point she barely remembered what her life had been like before that day Hotch asked her to join the academy. 

Things were going well, she felt settled, even with the new girl Seaver replacing JJ while Jareau was away on business in the pentagon. She couldn’t say she was the girl’s best friend, but they got along. And that was good enough for her. Her team was a well oiled machine. 

That was, except for Spencer. Spencer she worried for every day. 

She hated the way he twitched in the passenger seat, now his since she’d forced Emily to get the subway to work today, bitching eachother out in the way sisters did until the older woman left in a huff but without asking questions, and she left to take Spencer to the hospital. 

The sunglasses did little to stop his eyes hurting, his brain quite literally feeling as though it was pressing against his skull. He even turned down coffee this morning, and her stomach had dropped when she realised just how serious it was. 

He didn’t even question her when she held his hand tightly in hers as she walked him into the office, knowing he would hate every second of having this MRI done. 

“Everything’s going to be absolutely fine, they’re going to find what it is and we’re going to get you fixed right up to your perky self again,” She said, as they sat together outside the doctor’s office, keeping her voice calm and quiet as not to upset his delicate head even more. 

He nodded, appreciating her gentle touches on his hand, and he jumped in his seat when the door opened, his name being called through and he wished she could come with him. 

“You got this,” Bugsy smiled at him reassuringly when he looked hesitant, and nodded again, squeezing her hand once before he let go, following the nurse into the MRI room, wondering how he got so lucky to have a best friend like her. 

–

Spencer sighed, leaning back in his seat. The flight had not helped the building pressure in his head in the slightest. He looked up to the ceiling, closing his eyes as the harsh office lights beat against his face mercilessly. 

Two bodies found sacrificed to a 'higher being', their tongues and fingers cut off, shells put over their eyes and mouths. They had seen worse, perhaps not as odd, but they had seen worse. And yet this was the case that made him feel like his brain was about to explode right out his ears.

He hadn’t felt like this since he had been on Dilaudid, since he’d be on a come down and his whole body would sweat cold, and his head would rattle with every movement. And even that almost paled in comparison to how bad his head hurt right now. 

Spencer had wondered if that was what had done this to him, if it was a long term side effect of its use. He knew it wouldn’t be, but the self punishing part of him couldn’t help but fill his head with it. 

He just wanted answers. He just wanted it to stop. He just wanted to crawl into bed with an ice pack over his face and never surface again until this thing had subsided. 

Spencer felt hands in his hairline, fingernails weaving and massaging until he almost moaned, the touches releasing some of the metaphorical knots like magic at their fingertips, and he knew who it was, because that was how she always made him feel. 

He opened his eyes to see her very upside down as she looked down at him, their eyes inline with one another as she continued running her fingers against his temples gently. 

“You okay, handsome?” That was somewhat new, not that he was complaining. Part of him said she just felt bad for him and his weird brain, and maybe that was how it had always been, but ever since he had started getting these migraines she was impossibly even softer with him now. Like she was his comfort blanket he cuddled to when he was feeling particularly sorry for himself, and she knew it too. They were rarely not stuck together like velcro, where he moved, she moved. Where he sat, she was pressed against him like the concept of personal space had never been such a huge deal for him. 

And when his pain struck him down into the embodiment of a wounded doe, she was right there fluffing his pillows, grabbing him aspirin, massaging his head like she could grab the bastard migraine right out of his skull and say leave my precious boy alone. 

She was too sweet on him recently, but then he never wanted it to stop. It felt like a relationship without the kissing and especially without the sex. The thought of it made him want to moan again. 

“This one’s a stubborn one,” It had lingered around for three days straight, and the Miami heat wasn’t helping as he looked up at her inverted face, and he could tell she was smiling gently at him. 

She ran her thumbs over his eyebrows, smoothing them out and he sighed in delight as he felt the muscle begin to relax beneath her touch. 

“You make things better,” He confessed, her fingers tracing down his pretty nose, and he closed his eyes as she went over the bags beneath them. “You always do,” 

He felt her kiss his forehead for good luck, and he knew she hated seeing him in so much pain. He could have whined when she pulled away, letting go of him gently as Rossi stepped into the room, hoping he hadn’t seen the affection before too much teasing could come. 

But he said nothing, even if he had seen, just raised his eyebrows and grabbed the file off the desk for his own thorough look through. 

He sure as hell missed the way she interlaced their fingers under the desk though. 

–

Spencer twisted the bracelet around his wrist as they sat together outside the doctor's office. Orula’s ide. That was what Julio had called it. Said it would protect him from the bad spirits that clouded his head. 

Spencer was a man of science, a man of logic. But even he couldn’t quite explain how Julio had managed to figure out he was having migraines despite him not letting any infliction of pain cross his face, even more confused when Julio had said his body had been a conduit for a higher spirit who wanted to help him. 

He was glad to be back in Virginia where everything made sense to him. Where she could hold onto his knee at the doctor's office to stop it from bouncing and his team couldn’t tease or ask him what was wrong or make her stop touching him so much. 

“I say we get some ice on your head and put on whichever Doctor Who episode you want, don’t even care if we’ve seen it before,” She offered, smiling over at him and hoping he couldn’t see the worry in her eyes. 

He could. He just nudged her shoulder with his forehead to say thankyou without ruining the solace the quiet brought him. 

That is until his name was called, just as it was the last time he was here, and he stood to enter the office, not letting go of her hand as this time he’d made sure she could come. 

“That doesn’t make any sense,” He said as he sat on the bed, his doctor showing him the clear brain scans that hadn’t flagged a single neuron out of place. 

“I’m not sure what you want me to say,” His doctor replied, watching the way his female accomplice frowned, squeezing his hand tightly. 

“Isn't there any tests that would look for a specific prognosis we could try?” She asked, and the man shook his head. 

“Not unless we’ve ruled out every other option, and in this case I’d like to suggest that Dr. Reid’s condition might be psychosomatic in nature,” The doctor explained, wary of the way the two agents screwed their expressions up, almost identically, hearing his explanation of Spencer’s headaches. 

“Psychosomatic…” Spencer echoed softly, in near disbelief. 

That couldn’t be it. It had to be the Dilauded. Or a tumour. Or a long standing concussion. Something physical and tangible he could point out and get fixed.  

“It just means a mental or emotional cause-” The doctor explained, only to have Spencer cut him off. 

“No I know what ‘psychosomatic’ means Doctor, but it's not that,” He said, his voice tired; the idea he was making up his problem in his own head bothered him. 

“Well, I think it’s something we should consider.”

“Listen, I’m not crazy,” Spencer insisted, and he felt her tugging his hand closer to hers, her own way of comforting him when she couldn’t grab at his hair or face or jaw. 

“Dr Reid, I’m not saying-” But he was stopped by Spencer’s voice that was slowly growing more irate. 

“No, listen, I have headaches. I have increased sensitivity to light, because there’s something wrong with me physically. Not mentally. It’s not that,” He corrected the doctor, his sweet face pulled into a grumpy pout, almost offended that the professional was willing to write his pain off as a hallucinations. 

“That?” The doctor asked, a frown on his face as Spencer continued.

“Listen, doctor, my mother’s a paranoid schizophrenic who’s been institutionalised. So I know very well what mental illness looks like, maybe even better than you. It’s not that, it’s not.” Spencer said in a huff, standing from the bed and grabbing his satchel, all but pulling her from the room as she sped walked after him, her hand still tightly in his. 

She was gobsmacked. She didn’t know how she hadn’t seen it before, and suddenly every single instance of her whining about her mother to him entered her head and she felt a pit growing in her stomach that only had room for guilt. 

They sat in the car in silence, her hands at ten and two as she tried not to stare at him. 

She couldn’t stand the quiet in which he stewed, murmuring to himself every now and then about how that most certainly wasn’t what was causing his state to decline. 

“You never told me that before,” She said after a while, and it was quiet, whether to satiate his headache or because she didn’t know if she was allowed to say it he wasn’t sure. 

“It never came up,” He said in a way that left little question. He didn’t want to talk about it. 

They sat in the quiet some more, the only sound being the way her engine hummed beneath the bonnet, the music turned low for his pounding head, and he saw the way she chewed her lip and flicked glances at him from the driver's side.

He sighed, not wanting to snap at her the way he had the doctor, “Bug, would you please stop looking at me like that, like you pity me-”

“No, it’s not that it's…” She started carefully, her gaze flicking ot him for a moment as they stopped at a red light, “Every time I forget you’re the strongest person I know, you just seem to remind me,” 

And just like that his heart swelled all over again, and he felt like maybe his head wasn't an entire failure to him.

+1 The one with the eulogy.

This was hell on earth. 

She sat around the table at the funeral home with her mother to her left, her father and Stephanie to her right. 

She could feel the team’s eyes on her; she hadn’t spoken in days, her face shallow and off colour, sick looking. Speaking to her mother and father was difficult for her on a good day, let alone when she was all alone. 

Because that was how she looked, as if she were half a person now, her face bitter and angry as she tried to take up the least amount of space at the table as possible, her mother inspecting her finger beds as if they’d scorned her. 

“Sit up straight,” She chided, nudging her daughter's knee, but Bugsy made no move to adjust her posture. She just stared blankly at the ugly floral tablecloth, waiting for the other mourners to arrive, to give their sorrows, before they could move to the church. 

Emily was right next door. Cold. In a box. Her entire body was likely in rigour mortis now, her face was probably white as snow with the blood pooling away - pallor mortis Reid had called it - her hands were probably twisted and ugly like a raven's foot-

She couldn’t keep doing this to herself. And yet the thoughts wouldn’t stop, not even as Stephanie, step mother from heaven as she was, began to chime in to try lighten the mood. 

Her dad hadn’t said a word to her yet, just patted her on the head the way he hadn’t done since she was five. 

“It’s a lovely day for a funeral, don’t you think?” She commented, but her voice was too sweet, too soft, too normal to have the charm she’d intended. 

Stephanie wasn’t a bad person. Not evil or horrible like Bugsy had always thought a step mother would be. But she was the person her father had left little Bugsy for, and though she knew almost all of her anger had been displaced onto the poor woman when he’d told her he had a new wife, Stephanie had never exactly bothered to remedy their relationship. 

Emily and Bugsy had been someone else’s kids. Had been Richard Prentiss’ problems, not hers. And no amount of kindness she bothered to overcompensate with today would change the past twenty years her father had been too preoccupied to even call for her birthdays. 

Bugsy scoffed, ignoring the warning look from her father. He knew very well how his youngest felt about his wife. 

“Mr and Mrs Prentiss,” Hotch came over, as if sensing the girl’s annoyance at the woman’s words, and she mentally could have planted a kiss right on Aaron’s lips when he made the effort to exclude Stephanie in his condolences, “I’m so sorry for your loss. Losing a child is a devastation I never would wish on anyone,” 

“Thank you for your kind words, Mr Hotchner,” The step mother piped up again, before either of them could say anything, and Bugsy shot her a look so full of hatred, Aaron thought she might have slapped her right then and there. 

Richard cleared his throat, moving to put an arm around Steph’s chair, one that she’d pulled up to the table herself. 

If there was one thing Elizabeth and Bugsy would ever agree on it was that Stephanie was intolerable. 

Her mother looked empty as she nodded at Hotch, crossing her legs properly and pursing her lip, not saying anything. She’d never seen her mother cry, and she doubted that would start today. Elizabeth was much too of a proud woman to weep in front of the masses. 

“Thanks, Hotch,” Bugsy said the first words she had in days, the only time she’d gotten out of bed was to feel Niko and Sergio or to use the bathroom. Her voice was raspy, ghost like, and it scared the crap out of him. 

He couldn’t see her getting through this alive. 

With Haley, he’d had Jack to get him through it, keep him going, if not to put on a front for his little boy that was the spitting image of his wife. But Bug had nothing left of her sister, nothing but herself and two parents that couldn’t stand to look at one another without screaming curses. 

The other’s had already given their condolences, had already bombarded her with enough letters, flowers, stuffed teddies to fill a house, and she knew she wasn’t being fair ignoring them when they were grieving too. If not just as much as she was. 

But she couldn’t do anything, couldn’t be anything except this shell of a woman once called Bugsy. Her sister gave her that name, she didn’t think she deserved it anymore. 

Spencer just wished she would cry. He had been sobbing non stop, even where his eyes were puffy and red as Garcia’s as they stood in the funeral home, the smell of incense too strong, the sounds of wails too loud. But she looked… he hated to say it, she looked dead.

“That poor little lamb,” Penelope sniffled, tears already streaking down her cheeks as Derek tucked her under his arm, pulling her close into his smart black suit, “I wished she would let us in,”

“That girl is a carbon copy of Emily, of course she’s going to take herself off to lick her wounds,” Rossi said, his own fancy blazer stuffed with tissues in case his dark eyes welled up with tears again. He’d already managed to save himself once this morning before leaving the house, but he didn’t trust himself anymore than that. 

Spencer missed her smile more than anything, though he himself was struggling to muster anything past a grimace. 

“The Spring flowers are all in bloom, isn’t that lovely?” Stephanie continued, an easy grin on her face as she looked out of the window to the graveyard, as if she was entirely unaware of the grief lingering in the room, “I think she'll like it here,”

That was it. 

That was what pushed Bugsy over the edge, even Elizabeth broke her cold facade to look at the other women in shock, her daughter’s eye twitching as her head snapped to Stephanie, a rage encompassing her entire face.

“What the fuck would you know what she liked or didn’t like, Stephanie? She barely even fucking liked you,”  Bugsy hissed, drawing the attention of a few of the mourners with her vitriol anger. 

That wiped the smile off the woman’s face harder than any slap could have. 

“You watch your mouth, young lady,” Richard snapped, his face a blazen rage as Stephanie cowered behind him. 

Bugsy scoffed, and Hotch knew by the sound of it alone, something had been lit inside her that was about to go off like a hand grenade. 

He couldn’t say he blamed her. 

“I don’t know why you even bothered showing up, Dad. You’ve not seen either one of us since Emily left college,” She spat back, her eyes wild like a cat ready to claw its way out of a fight, “Surprised you even remember my name now you have your shiny new family and your million honeymoons to keep you busy,”

Richard stood from his chair, his black three piece creasing as he pointed in her face, his hand shaking with rage, and she saw the tears well in his eyes that looked too much like her own for her comfort. 

“You are turning out to be just like your mother, pushing away anyone who ever cared about you.” He barked, not caring that a few mourners turned to look at him in shock, “Don’t come crying back to me when you end up alone, little lady,” 

And with that he took Stephanie’s hand, who was the patron saint of guilt as of now, a face like a scolded child, too naive for the grown woman she really as. At least she had finally shut up, Bugsy thought darkly as her father stormed out of the home, ignoring the way faces watched hers carefully, knowing every word he’d said had been true. 

She thinks for a minute if Emily was here she’d poke fun at the way Steph’s face had been hilarious when her smile had dropped, or that her dad still had the worst temper out of them all, Bug included. She thinks that if Emily were here, she’d tell her he’d said all that stuff out of anger, and that she won’t end up alone, and that she’d always be with her.

She thinks that if Emily were here, she wouldn’t feel the empty nothingness where shame and sadness would be after having that entire thing play out infront of so many onlookers. 

But Emily wasn’t there. And she couldn’t even say she was shocked when her mother stood from her seat besides her too. 

“Where are you going?” Bugsy snarled, the Ambassador looking somewhat concerned before the expression fell and she went back to an equally lost look of her own. 

“I refuse to be made a spectacle of today,” Elizabeth said detachedly, collecting her purse over her black midi dress, her painted nails skimming the handle gently, “I can say my own goodbyes to your sister later, when everyone has left,” 

Coward. Coward. Coward. Bugsy wanted to scream after her, wanted to tear her hair out, wanted to grab the two of them by the neck and make them feel the way her words trapped inside her and clawed at her throat, sitting inside like a moth bouncing against a window trying to escape. 

But she said nothing. Did nothing, as her mother left the home, left her sitting there alone, until the officiant came over to her not even a moment’s later and told her it was time to start the funeral. 

And then she truly felt as if she would never be whole again. 

–

Her hands shook as she got to the podium. She’d always hated public speaking, which Spencer thought was odd since she seemed to grab the attention of every room she walked into like it was second nature. She didn’t even bat an eyelid at chasing down a criminal or being shot at or evening chewing out a detective that wasn’t pulling his weight, but speaking to a handful of decorated officers that watched her with grieving eyes was too much. 

Adjusting the mic to a more appropriate height, they watched her eyes scan the room, her brows scrunched, her mouth dry. Trying to find Emily, Hotch realised with a crack in his chest. The way she always did when she was nervous. The way she did when she was looking for Emily to come save her. 

“H-hi, um,” Her voice shook, her fingers fiddling with the chord for something to do, “Mom- Ambassador Prentiss got called out on business so I guess I’ll be giving the eulogy,” 

No one spoke, not even the ones who knew it was a lie, her eyes falling to where Spencer gave her a sad smile, some sort of encouragement for her to keep going, though his eyes were red and bloodshot, and he was sure the burn in his throat was rising again. 

She hadn’t cried yet. Penelope had cried four times today alone. 

“I- um, I wasn’t really prepared for a speech, so I’m, um, I’m just going to read the letter I wrote to her if that’s okay?” Her head shot to the priest who had handed the spotlight over to her, the warm spring breeze pulling at his robes as he nodded, his hand gesturing for her to continue. 

She cleared her throat, tearing the envelope open, and the paper rattled in her fingertips with her shaking hands as she pulled out the double sided A4 that had been written on in neat blue ink. 

Unfolding it, she let her gaze rip off the crowd of people who stared at her, waiting for whatever it was she had to say, the final words her sister’s body would hear before she was put in the ground forever. The last goodbye. The only one that had ever mattered. 

“Dear Emily,” Bugsy read, her voice finding footing as she was able to look away from the hundreds of eyes that watched her tearfully. But it was the wrong move. Because the minute she’d prepared herself to say the words out loud she felt her eyes well up. 

This was it. The last chance she would ever get to tell Emily how she felt. How sorry she was. How she was so damn sorry for being such a shitty person for so many years, for never saying thank you enough, for never hugging her when she really ought to have, for never appreciating how lucky she was to have a sister like her. 

Her throat clogged, and she sucked in a deep breath, releasing a trembling sigh. Her bottom lip quivered. 

“Sorry-” She apologised to the watchers, rubbing her mouth nervously, hoping no one could see just how deeply she had broken, just how harsh the wound had gaped open, “Dear Emily,” She started again;

“Everyone thinks they know what a sister is; it's the woman you share fifty percent of your DNA with who you’re put on this earth to annoy the shit out of,” A small wet laugh reverberated around the crowd, and she flashed a small smile at her own words. “But the truth is you can actually share up to sixty-one percent of your genes with one of your siblings. Which is crazy to me, because I know no matter how hard I try, I will never be even one percent of the woman you are,” 

She swallowed heavily, and she heard Penny burst out crying again, her head buried in Morgan’s neck. 

“If I was as gracious as you, I’d probably say you’re in a better place now, and if I was as brave, we probably wouldn’t even be here, because I would have been able to save you that day instead of just watching like a fly on the wall.” The first tear fell then, her face crumpling in pain. “If I was as considerate as you, I would be able to look every one of your friends in the eyes and tell them it would all be okay in the end. And if I was even the tiniest bit as kind as you, then I would have told you all of this to your face when it actually mattered.”

She sniffed heavily, and Derek did the same, his own throat burning, picking the thread on his nice trousers as Penelope’s tears wet his shirt through. 

“Everyone thinks that true love is finding someone you want to marry and have children with, but I know now that’s not the entirety of it. Love is a person you want to spend every day making happy, and make them proud to say they love you too.” Her chin wobbled some more as she read the next few sentences with something darker than remorse in her glassy eyes, “I sometimes think, if we were given a second chance, if we could try again, I would be able to tell you that I truly love you, Emily, and that you’re the only person I ever cared about loving me too,”

Her voice cracked, and she regarded the paper with misty eyes, her cheeks soaked as she quickly wiped them with the back of her white, lace gloves. 

“I think maybe next time I wouldn’t be so spoiled and bratty, and you could have been more relaxed and maybe less like my mom at times, but I think if we could do it over, we could have done it right, the way sisters are supposed to,” She sniffed, missing the way Spencer’s face dripped with tears of his own, her words tearing him inside and out with the guilt in every line. “But I guess it’s too late for that now. I only got one chance to be your sister and I failed, no matter how many times you pulled through for me. And that’s a debt I’ll never be able to repay.”

She braved a look at the closed casket, imagining her big sister, the only person she ever truly loved laying in there with fair, snow skin, her noir hair sitting perfectly like a princess in the fairytales she used to read to her before bed. Only this one had no happy ending. This one ended with her heart torn from her chest, bleeding for the rest of her days until her own body was buried and everyone could mourn the girl who was barely half the woman her sister was, no matter what the statistics say.

“I’m sorry, Emily” It was the first time she’d said the two words that had been playing in her head on a loop for weeks, the two words that sang to her like a mantra, every morning, noon and evening. Even in her sleep she had dreams where she could do nothing but scream into a void of darkness, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It should have been me, I’m sorry. “I hope you can forgive me,” She whimpered through a sob, ignoring the way her cheeks gushed with fat tears now, as she wept freely at the podium, her hands no longer shaking. 

“Lots of love, your shitty baby sister, Bugsy.” She finished with a small whine, her expression broken as she folded the letter back up and placed it in the envelope, the cursive lettering of her big sister’s name staring back at her. Finishing where she’d started. 

Tucking the letter underneath a tulip wreath atop the coffin, she stepped back down off the podium, ignoring the way the eyes followed her back to her seat, ignoring the way Derek rubbed her shoulder affectionately, or the way JJ handed her a packet of tissues, even though her own face was flooded, and showed no signs of stopping. She felt Spencer grab her hand in his delicately, entwining their fingers together, and squeezing lightly. 

The priest continued with a hymn, though she didn’t bother singing it. She just stared at her shoes, as if her entire soul had been sucked from her the minute she’d ended the eulogy. 

Which it had, because that had been Emily’s last goodbye. 

She didn’t speak in the car on the way back to Spencer’s, not as Hotch pulled her in for a wide hug, rare and warm, even going so far as to stroke the back of her head with more affection than they’d ever seen him give her. 

“Call me if you need anything,” He’d murmured into the side of her head as he held her close, feeling two hands hesitantly wrap around his waist, as if she wasn’t entirely switched on which, going by the vacant look on her face she wasn’t. 

Spencer made her tea the moment they got in. She didn’t ask for it, she just sat on the sofa and stared at the beat up, old TV he kept only for the occasional documentary, and for the shows she liked to watch too of course. But she hadn’t even switched it on, just stared at the inky black glass like it would jump to life itself and tell her how to feel. 

He took a seat next to her, on the other end of the couch, flicking the screen on for something to stop it from being so silent in his home; the silence meant they were alone with their thoughts, and for once he and his thoughts couldn’t stand being together. He didn’t want to interrupt her, or be the first to break the quiet. Not even when he watched her tea go cold in front of her, or as she barely acknowledged the cartoon on the TV, or when he pulled out his copy of The Brothers Karamazov that he’d been re-reading for the third time. 

“Would you like me to read to you? Would that be better?” He asked tentatively, and she didn’t even blink, as if she were some sort of zombie or corpse sitting next to him programmed for instruction on acting human. 

She said nothing, but she did move, the act of it making him jump slightly, and it was then he realised she had been perfectly still for the past half an hour, barely even showing signs of breath. A puppet with no master. 

She leaned over, her body dropping onto the sofa softly as if she was taking a nap, only for her head to rest on his thigh, and his hand flew to pull the claw clip out of her hair like he read her mind. Her knees nestled to her chest, in foetal position, her pretty black dress, the same one she’d worn for Haley’s funeral riding up past her knees. 

He gently tucked his long fingers into her roots, stroking her hair like she were a tame cat curled in his lap, clearing his voice as he continued where he’d left off, making sure he wasn’t reading too fast the way he would if it was just him. 

His head still whirled around the eulogy she’d read. How watching her crack beneath the weight of her own words had hurt him more than his own grief, had made him bury whatever it was he felt and just need to put her back together again. 

Because he didn’t need an eidetic memory to have ingrained what she’d said into his head, not even as they went to bed, and she burrowed into his side in one of his sweatshirts he usually saved for his own bad days. 

“Bug,” He braved to say, watching her eyes force themselves open from where they were on the very lip of sleeping, “You’re my very best friend, did you know that?” 

She hummed, her nose digging into his arm that he wound under her head, pulling her close enough he could feel her heartbeat against his own where she was in the crook of his neck. 

“I love you,” She said, like those three words didn’t rip the air from his lungs. 

Not even as her breathing finally evened out, and he felt himself heave a sigh of relief; the bags under her eyes had been more noticeable today than ever. Not even when he dared a kiss to her forehead as she slept, the smell of her shampoo completely taking over his pillow as he allowed his own heart to hurt for just a few moments, missing his friend dearly as he looked after the woman.

Love is a person you want to spend every day making them happy, and make them proud to say they love you too. 

He knew then.

–

TAGLIST

@release-your-sweets @smileykiddie08 @caramelised-onions@the-tpd-bau @stephthepeach @sunflowersndpeaches @sammy-4103 @starmansirius @yeonalie @delusionallooney @hades-disappointment-child @sadbae-33

[landograndprix]

╰┈➤ ❝ desire • l.n c.l ❞ v

part four - part six

➪ Charles hasn't paid much attention to you after your daughter was born but a certain Brit does.

➪ you're just as bad if not worse because maybe after all it was just in your head

➪ established relationship mom!reader x dad!Charles x lando

➪ 😈 - bob is lando ;) || google translate is my best friend

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y/nusername

📍 Tignes, France 

liked by charles_leclerc, noellepicard and 534,788 others

y/nusername ⛄️

tagged: charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc

view all 1,989 comments

Hannahh have a great off season you three!

charliecharlie finally some charlesy/n content, I was getting worried 😫

joris__throuche maman et papa pendant leurs grandes vacances ❤️ (mom and dad on their big holiday)

↳ charles_leclerc tu nous manques fils (we miss you son)

y/nusername nous reviendrons bientôt (we'll be back soon)

manon_roux couldn't have tucked me into your suitcase?

↳ y/nusername sorry 😔

hannahh squeezing those cute little baby cheeks 😍

charlessix10 mom and dad, dad and mom? 😭

noellepicard babies 🥰

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y/nusername

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 489,871 others

y/nusername ☯️☮️

view all 1,578 comments

norry4 MOTHER YES

julieeeexo you're such a beauty 😍

leondewitt jesus christ how did that kid bag this woman?

charlos16 I wanna be like you when I grow up..😩

charles_leclerc mon dieu, j'ai vraiment tellement de chance 😍 (my god, I'm so lucky)

↳ carlandooo were back to publicly simping for each other, war is over..all is good 😭

matthiasn lucky bastard

norrizz lando get out of here, acting like we don't see you liking all y/n her stuff, boy you're not subtle with it 💀

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y/nusername

📍 Tignes, France 

liked by joris__trouche, manon_roux and 487,892 others

y/nusername ⛄️⛄️

tagged: charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc

view all 1,888 comments

thurthur Charles and Arthur trying to cook? Interesting

norrizz not the zoë snow angel, stop my heart 😭

bott_ass take me with you guys next time pls I'm begging :(

joris__trouche combien de vestes différentes as-tu emballées, j'en ai compté au moins 4 différentes jusqu'à présent 🤪 (how many different jackets did you pack, I counted at least 4 different ones so far)

↳ y/nusername t'inquiète pour tes propres affaires, laisse-moi tranquille (worry about your own things, leave me alone)

charles_leclerc je dois acheter plus de valises 😂 (need to buy more suitcases)

manon_roux nous savons tous que Charles emballe le plus de vêtements ici. (we all know charles packs the most clothes here.)

charles_leclerc coupable 🤷‍♂️ (guilty)

charliecharlie dad charles dad charles dad charles dad charles dad charles dad charles dad charles dad charles dad charles dad– 😭

charlesgirlies so much charlesy/n content lately 😭

↳ leclec16 we keep winning! 😍

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Everything taglist; @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseokie @pretty-little-bunny382728 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @severewobblerlightdragon @cherry-piee

Desire taglist; @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @writingworlds @chezmardybum @lewisvinga @xjval @fanficweasley @rockyhayzkid @aundercover @thecubanator2 @minchedchilli @crimeshowjunkie @alisoncasey21 @eeviepepi08 @shamelesspotatos @sleepybrokenmelle @leireggsworld @janeholt3 @iamahalicinationn @dessxoxsworld @kapsylia @22yuki @dark-night-sky-99 @sheslikeacurse @nerdreader @champagneproblems17 @norwayxo @sunny44

Lando taglist: @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10 @bored-brunette2

[navybrat817]

" Scraping their teeth over your neck to have a shiver of arousal run down your spine. "

With Bucky. 🥺

This probably didn't go the way anyone wants, nonnie, and I'm sorry!

Give Me a Name

Pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Agent!Female Reader Summary: Someone put their hands on you and Bucky can't let it go. Word Count: Over 1.1k Warnings: Tension, threat of violence (not against reader), very minor injury, pet names, possessive behavior, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Because who doesn't want a mob boss obsessed with them? ❤️ Edit by the talented @nixakimbo. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Today was a not-so-friendly reminder that mistakes in your job weren’t so easy to fix. You had been in pursuit of a target for weeks and finally managed to catch him. The rookie agent, however, didn’t secure the cuffs and the bastard managed to get a hard hit in when he broke free. The dizziness from the blow was enough to let him get away.

The rookie went after him, but you knew he wouldn’t catch him. You’d have to start all over with tracking him and you didn’t even get a chance to go home to lick your wounds. Not when Bucky’s men showed up and put you in a car.

You should’ve known they were close by.

“I can walk!” You argued minutes later when they brought you to the Barnes mansion. The mob boss had a few homes, but this one had been in the family for years. He had invited you here before, but never took you by force.

Until today.

The men carefully arranged you on a leather sofa in the den before one of them went to get their boss. He hadn’t left the room before the door flew open, the very man he went to find standing there with a look thunderous enough to kill. He snatched something out of one of his soldier’s hands before he went to you, no one daring to speak a word.

You held your breath as you glanced at Bucky. He had the sleeves of his black shirt rolled up as he assessed you, the veins in his arms popped out as he clenched his fists. He was built like a soldier with his massive frame, his life story told in the tattoos and scars that adorned his covered skin. The notorious crime lord more than earned his reputation and he promised he’d tell you his story himself one day.

Today wouldn’t be that day.

He brushed some of his long hair from his eyes before crouching down beside you. He didn’t take his eyes off you as he dabbed at your cheek with the cloth. He stopped when you winced, but you gave him a small smile to let him know he could continue. You didn’t expect tenderness from such a rough man, but you were different to him, weren’t you? You had been since the two of you crossed paths some time ago. Why?

What made you so special?

“Who did this to you?” He asked in a low voice. You could hear that he tried to keep the raging storm inside of him, but his icy eyes showed you everything. The growing fury was bound to come out. Who would he destroy in his path to sate the beast?

“Bucky. I’m fine,” you croaked as you tried to sit up more, but he stopped you from moving. “The guy got lucky and it isn’t anything I haven’t faced before. Just let me get back to work,” you said.

You noticed most of the men nearby avoided eye contact when you looked around. They had every reason to be afraid. James Buchanan Barnes was downright terrifying when crossed.

And crossing you was a worse offense in his eyes.

“Give me a name,” Bucky demanded, though he didn't raise his voice. “Tell me his fucking name so I can take care of it.”

“I can’t,” you whispered. If you did, he’d kill him. No, he’d torture him first. Likely for days on end before he begged for death. And you needed him alive.

That was your job.

Yet, you could never find it in yourself to bring Bucky in.

“Don’t make me shoot you.”

You froze at the cold tone before you realized Bucky didn’t direct that statement at you. One of his men standing feet away turned his head to the side because he got caught staring. You should’ve known better. Whatever cat and mouse game you and the mob boss were playing, it was for him to catch you in his trap, but never hurt you.

Not when he wanted to keep you.

“I’m sorry, boss,” the man promised, his tone wavering when Bucky reached for one of his pistols. “I-”

“‘Cause I’ll do it in a heartbeat and never look back if you glance at her again,” he promised. He was a man of his word. “Leave us. All of you. Now.”

“Bucky, it’s okay,” you assured him as they filed out. The men were dangerous, but you weren’t about to let him shoot the poor guy for looking your way.

“It isn't okay. Someone put their hands on you,” he nearly growled, the soft touch to your cheek a stark contrast to his voice. “You think I can let that go? I can’t. I won’t.”

You brought a hand up to tuck a few strands of his hair behind his ear. His eyes shut for a moment and grabbed your wrist before you could pull away. He dragged your fingers through the short beard along his jaw, like he was starved of your touch and needed more. You didn’t want to admit how much you wanted him.

Not when you belonged in different worlds.

“You don’t have to ‘avenge’ me, Bucky, because I’m not yours,” you said carefully. Were you telling him for his sake or yours? “Let it go. Please.”

The storm continued to rage in his eyes when he opened them and you wondered who would win the battle of the wills. You held your breath again when he moved close, the scent of his woodsy cologne making your head spin. Instead of brushing his lips against yours, he brought his mouth to your neck. Scraping his teeth over your pulse, you couldn’t stop the shiver of arousal that moved down your spine.

“You are mine, Kisa,” he whispered, giving your neck another nip as you tried not to whimper. “And I’m going to find out who did this whether you tell me or not. And I’m going to kill him.”

Your heart shouldn’t have raced faster at his declaration. “If I tell you, will you let me go home?”

“You are home,” he replied, pulling away and looking into your eyes so you could see how serious he was. “And I’d feel a lot better if you got some rest in my bedroom.”

You shuddered because you both knew you wouldn’t get a wink of rest if he took you to bed. And if you slept with him, there would be no turning back. “You can’t keep me prisoner here, Winter.”

The cold and ruthless man who only wanted you.

“You’re not my prisoner, Kisa,” he said, pressing his lips softly to your pained cheek. “But I’m never letting you go.”

He’d prove that to you.

I don't know about you lovelies, but I kind of love them. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[zeijia]

꒰ᐢ..ᐢ゛everyone gets a turn !!

info; you're Isagi Yoichi's sweet girlfriend, who also had done a dirty deed with his friends.

featuring. ITOSHI RIN, NAGI SEISHIRO, BACHIRA MEGURU, CHIGIRI HYOMA !! [SEPERATE] x AFAB!READER

cw. oral, cheating, degration, praise, mommy kink, tit fucking, choking, gagging, riding, clothed grinding, fingering, vaginal penetration, squirting

ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+

CHAPTER II >0<

Your boyfriend, Isagi Yoichi, has always been a sweet and caring boy. He was always giddy, he showers you with love and care, and he's always by your side. He was also friendly, too. So you knew his friends after a few months of dating. Isagi's friends were your friends, too. Isagi wasn't oblivious, except for one thing.

It's the fact his friends have all had a taste of pleasure with you.

But how could you bring yourself to tell him that? It would break his poor heart. He was a sweetheart, a certified lover boy. So there was no way you could tell him that. So here you are, cheating on your boyfriend.

ITOSHI RIN was the first guy to have a taste of you. He hated your boyfriend. He considered Isagi as his rival, and he would do anything to beat Isagi. It annoyed him when Isagi introduced such a pretty thing to them, being extremely affectionate with you, calling you these stupid endearments, and you were doing the same, too. It was annoying, and Rin couldn't stand that. The fact that Isagi had gotten himself such a gorgeous lady made his rage towards Isagi grow further. He saw how happy you are with isagi, smiling and talking to his friends, and even talking to him. You looked up to him, like literally, since he was a tall guy, after all. Your doe eyes would always give him goosebumps, he wondered, what would you look like looking up to him with those eyes as you sucked his dick off like your life depended on it? Well, that was exactly what was happening now.

“Go on, take it. You can do it, doll.” he coos, his hand gripping the back of your skull as he pushed your head further, causing you to take more of his huge cock. Muffled whines were heard from you as he kept on pushing you forward, forcing you to take down his dick, and fucking your throat. Your eyes widened when you felt his cock hit the back of your throat, and you looked up at him. That's the view Itoshi Rin wanted to see. Your pretty eyes all teary, a blush on your cheek, and your mouth stuffed full with his cock. “fuck… what a whore.” he groaned out, throwing his head back on the sofa as you started sucking down on his cock, his heavy hand still on your head, his thumb giving your hair a few strokes. “I wonder what Isagi would do if he saw this.” Rin scoffed, and you whined with the thought of your boyfriend catching you two, sending vibrations down his cock. “Fuck- good, that's it.” a half smirk was present on Rin's face, as he looked down once more at you, your tears now streaming down your face as you proceeded to suck him off. 

He then grabbed your hair, and started bobbing your head on his cock, causing you to gag. “Ah fuck.. yeah, just like- ngh, just like that.” he grunted, looking at your face as you proceeded to choke and gag on his cock, he loved this sight, he loved seeing you take his fat dick on your mouth. “That asshole's a lucky bastard, tch.” he muttered out, in annoyance on how Isagi's gotten you, on how Isagi probably stuffed up your cunt and turned you into a moaning mess for him. He was annoyed, and proceeded to go faster, causing you to whine. You had no control, and Rin was being too harsh with you, but you can't deny that you don't like it. You loved it. A few more minutes of you throttling on his cock, and he finally came down your throat. He pulled away from your mouth, and more spurts of his cum spilled on your pretty face, the sight gave him an ego boost, it was his way of saying 'fuck you, Isagi.' , it felt like he had won something against Isagi. “now this is more like it.”

NAGI SEISHIRO who didn't seem to care when Isagi introduced a girl, but something caught his attention. Your chest. It was.. well, he would be lying if he said it didn't turn him on. He knew it would be wrong if he did something to his friend's girl, but hey, what would go wrong if he doesn't find out? His logic was simple. He thought having a raging hard dick in his sweatpants each time he thinks of you was such a hassle, which is why he invited you over in disguise that you two would only play some games he bought. So why are you here, sitting down on his bed, your cardigan thrown away somewhere in his room, him laying down as you pushed your breasts together, squeezing them down on Nagi's cock? “l-like this, nagi?” you asked, you were rather shy, the blush on your face visible as you looked up at him. “mph- mhm. Yeah, just like that..” he murmured, as you slowly started to rub your breasts together on his cock. “does it.. feel good, seishiro?” you asked, your focus on how his dick twitched once you started moving your boobs together. “yes.. ah! shit, feels good..” he whimpered out, your lips kissing the tip of his cock and giving it kitten licks. “mfff….hah, just like that, just like that… mommy.” he groaned, feeling your warm tongue suck the tip of his cock and your round breasts rubbing against his length.

You were slightly surprised when Nagi called you 'mommy', but you figured he wanted to be taken care of. Isagi told you Nagi was a slacker, and how lazy Nagi is outside the field. With those thoughts on your head, you looked at the snowy haired boy, sweat dripping on his face and neck, whimpers, groans, and grunts being heard from him. A sly smile crept up on your face, “there, there, seishiro. Mommy will take care of you, okay?” you chuckled, taking his tip back on your mouth and rubbing your breasts faster, and that earned a moan from him. “wanna cum, wanna cum, mommy please.. ah-!” his breath hitched, and you felt his dick twitch again, and you pulled his tip out of your mouth, as warm liquid came out of his dick, making a mess on your breasts. 

Nagi let out a long sigh, and his gaze looking back at you. “good boy, seishiro.” you smiled at him, before crawling towards him and giving him a pat in the head. He then pulled you closer, sitting you on his lap, his dick resting just under your ass, as he gave your nipple a teasing bite. “wanna make you feel good too, mommy.”

BACHIRA MEGURU who was Isagi's self proclaimed best, best, bestest friend. You found his extraordinary behavior funny, it amused you every time Bachira would do silly things in public with no shame at all. You never suspected Bachira to be the type to be possessive, obsessive, or anything dark whatsoever.

Bachira had always been a ball of sunshine, his optimism always cheered you up, even during times you and Isagi would have a little quarrel, Bachira would be there for you to hear you rant on about Isagi and cheer you up afterwards. By cheering up, it means eating you up and murmuring sweet nothings as he laps on your cunt.

“I'm sure he doesn't mean it, pretty.” Bachira murmured, as he kissed your clit before sucking back on it, his two fingers prodding on your hole. “I'm sure he'll apologize,” he breaks contact with your clit, as his two fingers toyed with your throbbing hole. “and everything will be alriiiiiiight soon.” he smiled, dipping down on your clit again, bullying it with his skilled tongue. Bachira never failed to cheer you up, to make you feel good. “hngh.. meguru-! ah.. no-not there!” you moaned out, as he curled his fingers inside your cunt, earning a loud moan from you. His fingers were long and it never made you feel empty, it went along with his tongue that was so fucking skilled, it alone could make you come undone. You threw your head back on the sofa, seeing stars as Bachira was skillfully eating you out and fingering you.

“See? He's already calling.” Bachira smiled, looking at your phone that was beside you as he pulled his tongue away from your clit, his fingers still playing with you. “go on, answer him.” Bachira spoke and handed you the phone, his voice laced with mischief. Your head was in a haze, as you took the phone and answered your boyfriend. “Hey, Y/n, uh.. I know I was a jerk..” your boyfriend Isagi trailed off, talking about his mistakes and what he did wrong and apologizing to you. He was being genuine and sincere with you, but you didn't even get a single thing he said.

Why? Because you were focused on the pleasure Bachira was giving you. His tongue abusing your poor clit, his fingers curling inside your cunt, and you tried not to make any noise as you felt your stomach tighten a knot forming in your stomach as you whispered to bachira, “'m gonna cum..!” you hushed him, signaling him to stop, but he only gave you a half-assed smirk and continued further, causing you to use your other hand to cover your mouth, “and that's that. I'm sorry, please forgive me, Y/N. I didn't mean it.” your boyfriend finished whatever he was saying, but you also finished and came undone on Bachira's tongue and made a mess on his fingers. Your eyes rolled back, seeing stars as you sighed out, trying to come down from your peak of pleasure.

Bachira gave you a wink, and the sigh sounded like those sighs your girlfriend would give you after hearing your apology, and Isagi did not suspect anything. “Okay.. I accept your apology, Yoichi.. 'm sorry too..” you muttered on the phone, and your other hand gave Bachira a pat in the head. Little does Isagi know that, that “sorry” had two meanings.

CHIGIRI HYOMA who you considered to be your best friend out of Isagi's friends. Chigiri was sassy, and he had an attitude, too. You easily got along with him, both of you talking about skin care products, hair products, lotions, all of those stuff. Isagi smiled at you two's friendship. He was happy that you could have a relatable talk with someone in his circle of friends cause they were all boys. You trusted Chigiri, alot. He was always giving you advice, and you two became close. He would tell you some gossip he heard, and you would tell him gossip from your college in return. One day, he invited you to watch movies at his place, just a normal, friendly, and casual hang out for close friends.

But somehow, you're on his lap, grinding your clothed pussy lazily at his crotch. “geez.. we only agreed for movies.” he sighed, placing his hands on your waist. “Though, I suppose I wouldn't mind a little activity.” he added, and that gave you the signal to take your panties off, and he did the same, swiftly taking his underwear off, before you went back crashing onto his lips, and crawling back to his lap, his hand pressing back on your ass, as you made yourself comfortable. You looked at his dick, he was hung. He was.. big. You gulped, wondered if you could take that in. “What's the matter? Have you and Isagi never done it?” Chigiri queried, getting a load at your expression. “We have but-” you paused, “it's just so… big.” you shyly admitted “so is Isagi that small?” he teased, a giggle following after. You couldn't possibly respond after that. It was awkward. “alright, let's get serious now, go, ride me.” he quickly averted his gaze back to you, as you nodded and inserted his length down on your pretty pussy.

Your wetness coating his dick, as it went inside. Slowly but surely, it found itself home and cozy inside your cunt as you nuzzled your head on the crook of his neck. “you're so.. fucking tight.” Chigiri grunted, as he slowly started thrusting, and you rocked along with his rhythm, bouncing on his cock. “you're like a virgin, first time being fucked by a cock this big?” he teased you, pulling you into a deep heated kiss as your hips moved in sync with his. Each thrust made you see stars. “haaah.. hyoma.. so- ah! hngh.. so good..” you moaned out, “oh I bet it does." The steady pace got you feeling comfortable, and it caught you off guard when he started thrusting faster. “ah-! wa-wait.. hyo-hyoma!” you mewled out, as he continued to thrust despite your protests. “sorry pretty.” he grunted, the fast pace made you feel so so good.

A new found feeling you never thought would come. Isagi was often soft with you, he would be slow and steady unless you tell him to or when he's frustrated, but Chigiri.. his speed was something else, and his cock being buried so deep inside you made you feel insane pleasure. You might just cum right away. “i-i'm gonna.. cum! gonna cum, hyoma- ah!” you whined out, a smirk was present in Chigiri's face, as he only thrusted faster and harsher. You were crying, wrapping your arms around him, babbling nonsense and chanting his name like some prayer. Music to Chigiri's ears. It wasn't long before your pleasure washed you over. And no, it wasn't any ordinary orgasm you'd experience, you squirted.

“holy- fuck, never knew you were a squirter.” Chigiri gasped, witnessing how you squirted on his cock, and your body tensed up. “do that again.” he stated, his voice stern. Chigiri knows what he wants, and he's getting it. Something tells you this will be a very, very, long day.

© zeijias. do not copy/steal, translate, modify my work.

[ramonathinks]

Did I Do Good? / Nanami Kento

tags/warnings: (18+), age gap (reader is 22 + nanami is 32), infidelity, smut, blowjob, pet names (little lady, baby) daddy kink, mention of wife, bimbofication, reader used to be stripper/sex worker, black-coded reader

“Kento Nanami, you lucky bastard.” His co-worker slapped a hand on his shoulder much to his surprise. “Please tell me she’s got a sister…” He couldn’t remember the guy’s name but he knew he was hating the way he was eyeing you. The guy was swaying and slurring his words, licking his lips.

He wasn’t even this protective of his wife. He internally cringed at the thought.

None of his colleagues brought along anyone, using this business trip as an escape. He brought you. But in a way you were his escape, an escape from it all.

He just brushed off the comment but really it was hard to do especially since your arrival and what you were wearing:

A frilly hot pink skirt that hugged your hips and that was a tad bit short and constantly raising paired with a very tight light pink corset that made your breast look ever larger than they were. Even the high boots you were wearing that made everyone look at how long your legs were was making him uncomfortable. You even decided to get your hair done in a new style: long black pin curls that flowed heavenly down your shoulders. He watched multiple men wave at you and talk to you while you giggled and typed on your phone.

He didn’t want anyone staring at you.

He wanted to lock you up in the room. But he knew that was too much, this trip was all you’d been talking about for the past month since he causally mentioned it in passing.

“Kenny baby are you serious? We’re going to New York?” Your voice was so high pitched and happy even though he wasn’t planning on bringing you at first.

It was a business trip. With you around he barely got any work done. He’d find a way to have you milking his cock with that pretty pussy even if you’d only just woke up instead of scheduling his meetings, attending his meetings or anything.

“Yeah baby,” He watched your eyes light up in such delight and with a squeal you wrapped your arms around his neck. “But this is an important business trip for me, so I might not be around as much as you like… but I’ll give you your favorite card of mine to have fun with, you’d like that yeah?”

You pouted a bit, “I mean sure but I’ll be so sad without you,”

“I’ll try to get out of all my meetings a bit early so that I can at least make it to one of your fashion shows after your shopping spree, yeah?”

You pulled back to smile at him and nodded before kissing him all over. “Okay Ken.”

It was warm and he knew you dressed appropriately but fuck he didn’t like how everyone was looking at you like a piece of meat. Even he was.

You skipped slightly back towards him with the keycard in hand. “Penthouse suite…ooh, you’re spoiling me, Ken.” You told him, biting your lip. He knew what that meant. He smirked and wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you close to him.

“Well, I’m going now.” He quickly told his coworkers and dragged you to the elevator.

“Ken! You’re so rude!” You playfully glared at him. You turned back to his coworkers and waved, “Bye, see you boys soon.”

He could practically hear them swooning and didn’t bother to look back as he heard them saying your name and “goodbye”.

When the elevator door finally opened, he hurried to step inside interrupting your waving.

“You like making me jealous?” His eyes were intense as he stared down at you. He quirked a brow, “You think it’s cute? Funny?”

“Kento, you’re being too serious.” You whine a bit, trying to look away from his narrowed and intense eyes.

“Of course I’m being serious, you’re being flirty with everyone here, how do you think that makes me feel?”

A deep sigh is released from you and it’s the most frustrated he’s ever seen you. “You know they think I’m your wife…”

“Is that so wrong? You know what you mean to me. You know how important you are.” He cups your face and makes you look at him.

“When am I gonna be your wife?” Your eyes bore into his. You had only been dating a year and some months but you already saw a future with him and you wanted nothing more than to be with him forever.

His eyes softened but the elevator doors opened up before he could answer and you slipped out of his grasp. “You know how complicated that is. But I promised you remember? I have always kept my promises with you, little lady.”

He had always kept them. He took care of you, moved you into his place, even turned his office into your own personal walk in closet. He gave you things that you could only dream of.

But that wasn’t all. He gave you much support in anything, helping you with any assignments even when he had work bright and early. He was always there, he was a big comfort to you and it was easy to fall in love with him.

You almost wanted to kill his bitch wife. When you met him he was nothing but depression in human form. It’s only now that his eyes aren’t so clouded and that his smiles are real.

You inhaled deeply and shook off all your bad mood. “You’re right. You’re mines as I am yours, that’s all that matters.”

He did a small grin before he took you into his arms and hugged you tightly like he hadn’t seen you all day. “You’re too good for me you know that?”

It was something he almost always told you. But really it was the opposite. He made your world so much brighter than it had ever been. You truly felt at peace with him and didn’t have to worry about anything at all.

You wanted to him.

“I wanna suck your dick.”

His expression fell almost too quickly. “No, baby.” He chuckled. “But we can make love for the rest of the day and then maybe my coworkers will finally realize that I’m being nice enough to let them meet you but even nicer to hear those pretty little moans of yours all night.”

You did a shy small but rolled your eyes. He never let you give him a blowjob and with a dick like his it was criminal. Your mouth was watering just thinking about having his cum in your mouth but it probably would never happen.

It was the one thing you hated about him. He never came in your mouth, on your face or really anywhere. He didn’t want to defile you. He liked how pure you looked. Even though he seen you in your absolute filthiest.

“Please, daddy.” You touched him through his pants and he twitched. You didn’t call him daddy often but whenever you did, it was even harder for him to say no to you. “I just wanna a taste of your cum on my tongue.”

Maybe this was how you ended up with the bruised knees from being on the floor as you wrapped your sweet lips on him.

His cock was very pretty. A bit dark with a slight pink tip, very thick and long. His hair trimmed and clean, you were throbbing just from looking. You placed small kisses to his head before you did small licks all over him. With a moan you took him deep in your mouth.

His toes curled and he did his best not to grab your hair. There was some much slurping coming from your very wet mouth that he couldn’t bear himself to look at you. But when he finally decided to look, he couldn’t look away.

“You look so good on your knees.” His voice was completely wrecked and his eyes were burning inside of yours. His eyes narrowed when your hands squeezed at his balls before taking more of his hard weeping cock into your mouth.

He could feel your tongue tracing every vein and it was getting harder to stay quiet. Hollowing your cheeks, you swallowed around him, feeling hot all over your body.

Swirling your eager tongue over his slit, “Just… just like that, you’re doing so good.” He was whimpering but still managed to give you enough praises to last a lifetime.

He jumped when you touched his hand and put it in your hair. “I-I can’t…” He could barely contain himself now. He didn’t want to hurt you.

You sucked harder, bobbing your head before he finally took over. He was harsh. Very rough. Between his hips thrusting into your mouth, his tight grip on your hair forced you to stay in place.

He was using you and you couldn’t help but to enjoy it. Saliva dropped from your mouth and down your chin but you didn’t mind. You took him out of your mouth for a second.

“I want to be covered in you Ken, please? Cum all over me.” You knew he was close, could feel him throbbing and pulsing in your mouth. He muttered a small fuck when he heard you say that. He couldn’t believe just how nasty you were, wanting him to come all over you.

But he did want to see it. He wanted to see that you belonged to him. To see himself all over you. He stood up, standing over you and with his big hands he rubbed himself in front of your face.

It was erotic, the way he stared at you with such dark lust. Moving his hand up and down, slick coating his hand and wet noises all over the room. He swallowed before he let out a long and loud groan and finally came.

White warmth painted itself all over your tongue and some over your face. You swallowed, letting every bit of him flow down your throat.

“Did I do good, Kento?” His cock was still hard as he stared at you, his face reddened. He didn’t want to let you know just how much he enjoyed that.

“I’m going to make you my wife as soon as fucking possible.”

You smiled, cum still stained on your face. But you couldn’t have been any cuter.

[yawnderu]

K-9 — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader | Part II

Sick as a dog, and just as vicious.

1 2 3 4 5

Simon scores a date with his favorite medic

Or

Simon has to be under her watch after getting a knife to the gut.

"Oi, doc." Simon calls out and you sigh softly, gaze drifting from your patient report to him, his unmasked figure lays on the medical bed, gauze wrapped tightly over his abdomen, keeping his newest injury guarded from anything that could rub on or mess up the stitches.

"Why'd they call you K-9?" One of his thin, eyeblack stained eyebrows lifts as he looks at you, already feeling bored from having to stay still for so long, movement limited by the patched up stab wound on his stomach.

"Long story." You dismiss him, looking back down at the patient report you were writing for him. His medical file was interesting, indicating no pictures of him should ever be taken, as well as additional personal and professional information.

"You got surgery in 2020, what's that about?" You didn't notice any bigger scars whenever he was injured, having already seen his naked torso and part of his legs.

"Curious 'bout me, doc?" His tone is slightly teasing, the smug bastard thinking he's funny by asking that. A single eye roll is enough to get him to speak, a deep, gravelly chuckle escaping his lips before he answers.

"Took a nasty gunshot to the leg, was fadin' fast." He lays back down, gaze drifting towards the ceiling as he thinks about it. He was so close to death himself, only three years ago.

"Thought it'd be more interesting." Your bluntness never fails to make him double take. It's not passive aggressive or mean, just... way too honest. More than he's used to.

"I'll get a proper grand injury just for you, lass." You roll your eyes again, taking a sip from your coffee to hide the way the corners of your lips are tugging up. It's amusing, really, to find out how much Simon has changed throughout the years. Price told you he used to be much more quiet, though after 4 years of working with the task force, he was able to open up, getting more and more used to interacting with a team rather than being a lone wolf.

"That's not necessary, I can give it to you myself if you'd like." Your gloved hand presses on the scalpel on your white coat before going back to writing his medical report, tone laced with subtle humor.

"She can joke." He taunts, trying to sit up before a sharp hiss of pain escapes his lips. You frown, the report taking way too long to finish because you keep getting interrupted.

"Hold on." You walk up to him, hands holding onto his strong back before you try to help the behemoth of a man sit up. His calloused hands hold onto your forearms, a few low, deep groans escaping his lips at the strain his flexing muscles are causing to the fresh injury.

"Fuckin' hell." He mutters and you look up, eyes focusing on his pained expression for a second too long. Simon isn't ugly, really, but when his face is all scrunched up in pain, sweat gathering in the form of clear specks all over his eyeblack stained skin? He looks almost majestic. You get your head out of the gutter, placing some soft pillows behind his back to help keep him up without much strain.

"You should be healed up soon enough, got lucky the bastard didn't stab that deep." You shrug, looking back at the tiny coffee maker in your office before you look back up at him, his brown eyes already staring back at you, pupils blown, as usual.

"Want some coffee?" He shakes his head politely, eyes closing in pain as he tries to get into a more comfortable position.

"A cuppa would be nice." You flick his forehead softly, tired eyes drifting towards the clock on the wall. 0100, yet you simply nod and grab your phone from the desk.

"Try not to die while I'm gone." The door closes behind you before he can reply, brown eyes closing as he sighs when you're gone. He doesn't even know how it all started. Simon is a man of discipline, a soldier, a Ghost, yet the way his heart quickens and his cock hardens whenever he's with you is something he can't control, as if a parasite made home in his brain and is using his body as a vessel, ridding him completely of any self-control.

You come back 10 minutes later, a tray with a cup of hot tea and food placed on his lap, the almost comforting warmth quickly spreading through his legs and body.

"Thank you." He moves the spoon around the cup of Earl Grey, letting the sugar mix in for a hot minute before he takes a sip from it, nodding his head once in approval. He was starving, really, but he tried his best to eat slowly, ignoring his hungry stomach begging him to wolf it all down. His eyes drift back to the tray, attention caught by the singular orange left there.

His hands fumble for one of the knives in his clothes, finding all of the straps were removed by you and placed too far away for his injured body to reach. He looks back up at you, admiring you in silence and truly taking you in. The way you lift your glasses every once in a while even before they can slip down the bridge of your nose, the way your hand fiddles with the pen and your lips turn into a small pout whenever you're not sure how to describe something in the report, the way you look so angelic under the dim lights of the infirmary—

"What are you lookin' at?" You don't even bother looking back at him, feeling his stare on you for the past two minutes. He has such an intense gaze that makes you feel as if he can see through your soul, yet it never intimidated you.

"Nothin', bird, nothin'. Peeled you an orange."

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