#the little consenting nod in the third gif?

[tardxsblues]

Tell you what, seeing as it's goodbye, should we break a habit?

What? What habit?

Hug?

Why not? Within reason.

[whxre-bxby]

I just finished reading your fic "Cursed By Blue" (AND IM SO IN LOVE, fr marry me 💍) and i was hoping you could make a different version but with Ja and Prager?

I KNEW this was coming LMAO (let's go on a honeymoon) here you go <3

"Cursed By Blue" 2.0

f. Recom Y/N x Recom Prager x Recom Ja

(I can't find a gif of Ja) heartbreak hotel

"Cursed By Blue"1. Masterlist

Summary: The recom team is out on another mission, exploring the woods in search of Sully. However, the ladies become inconvenienced by a certain seasonal feeling they didn’t expect. It hits Y/n the hardest and it’s not long before the others understand what’s happening. While everyone fights their instincts, the only option Y/N sees available is to run. 

WARNINGS: SMUT, force with consent, predator/prey, heat fucking, heat cycles, penetration, unprotected sex, breeding kink, quickie, Z-Dog absolutely destroying everyone

Word Count: 4555

We were nearing the weekend. Not that that affected us. Lyle told me it was Friday today and I was surprised because I had completely lost track of time. But it didn’t really matter what day it was because we didn’t get time off anyway. Finding Jake was our number one priority and no breaks other than sleep were allowed. 

So here we were again, walking deeper into the forest of Pandora. It had just passed lunch time and we were here since early morning. 

No one was tired though, not yet. We weren’t allowed to be either. 

Today also happened to be warmer than usual so I wasn't wearing my usual long-sleeved attire and pants. I dressed like Walker usually did, in a sports bra and shorts. She and Z-Dog decided to wear tank tops like most of the others. 

The forest grew quieter the more we distanced ourselves from the RDA base and the city. Soon, we could only hear the wind blowing between the leaves and the distant calls of animals. That and our heavy footsteps. 

The Colonel and Lyle started the day off by leading us into the woods. As the hours passed by, the line mixed since everyone had a different walking pace and now it was Z-Dog and me leading at the front. Walker was close behind. 

I had been excessively drinking for the last 30-45 minutes and I wasn’t sure why. Z-Dog glanced over at me when she saw me reach for another water bottle. 

“That’s your third one already. Are you okay”? She asks, watching me gulp it down. I swallow most of the water and inhale sharply, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. 

“I don’t know.” I say, gasping for air. “Maybe I’m dehydrated?” 

“Don’t think so, we always drink the same amount and I’m fine.” Z-Dog says. We continue walking for a while longer in silence, thinking. Then Z reaches for her water and starts drinking it like she’s been running. 

I laugh a little but seeing her drink made me feel thirsty again. 

I reach for my water only to notice I have a few drops left. I down the remaining liquid and hold the bottle to my head. It seemed to be getting really warm. 

Turning around, I open my mouth and want to say something to Walker only to see her finishing her own bottle of water. I look behind me fully and no one else is drinking. 

“What. The. Fuck.” I say, feeling genuinely confused. Walker looks up at me with water drizzling down her chin and Z turns around. 

I wheeze and Z laughs and we wait for Walker to catch up so we can walk together. 

“Do you have any water left?” I ask her, knowing we at the front drank ours. 

“No, that was my last bottle.” she says and I notice how heavy my breathing is becoming. 

“Wait, you ran out too?” she asks and Z-Dog scoffs. 

“Yeah, been drinkin’ like we ran a marathon.” she says and I nod.

“I’ll ask the others.” I say before turning around and seeing Mansk behind me.

“Can I have some of your water?” I ask, wiping a bead of sweat from my forehead. Compared to us, Mansk is not sweating at all. He’s wearing his usual long-sleeved jacket over his tank top. 

The man glances up at me and his eyebrows furrow for a split second before he nods and hands one of his bottles over. 

“You ran out already?” he asks while I open it and drink about half. 

I wipe my mouth again, closing my eyes for a second and nodding. “Yeah.” I breathe out. “Thanks.” I say, handing it back to him. 

“Y’ alright?” he asks again taking the bottle back and I nod, not thinking much of it. Mansk doesn’t seem convinced. 

Ja overheard our conversation and sped up his walk to catch up to us. When Mansk noticed his presence he seemed a little relieved. 

“Is she okay?” he asks his colleague. Ja was the medic of the group so he would know. He took a glance at me and also thought of what I suggested. 

“Did you drink enough?” he asks me and I nod. 

“Yeah, I drank all my water and some of Mansk’s.” I scoff, wiping sweat from my forehead again. 

Ja presses the back of his hand against my cheek and then my forehead. 

“Shit, you’re burning up.” he said, scanning over me. 

I was feeling extremely warm. My skin felt like it was burning and my clothes suddenly felt tight and restrictive.

In front of us, Z-Dog and Walker are discussing something. 

Ja felt up my arm and checked my pulse while we were walking and Mansk stayed on my other side in case I was in fact not okay.

“Yeah, somethin’s definitely not right.” Ja announces to us, not quite sure how to help me. Mansk has his eyebrows furrowed, examining my behaviour. 

“They have it too.” I say, pointing at Z-Dog and Walker who now turn around. Walker is grimacing a little and Z looks worried. 

Mansk’s and Ja’s heads look up at them and they notice that they are breathing heavily and sweating just like me. Ja also takes note of the empty bottles in their hands. 

“Everthin’ okay up there?” the Colonel calls. It seems as though the others have noticed the small commotion and the medical check-up. 

Ja turns around, rubbing the back of his head. 

“Uh- no sir not really.” he calls back, stopping in his tracks to wait for Quaritch so that he can explain. Mansk and I keep walking and he watches me intently as I break out into a type of pant. My ears are pinned back and my tail is wildly flicking around behind me. My eyelids also happen to suddenly grow heavy and I keep them half-lidded. 

What snaps me out of my haze is Z calling my name. 

“Hey, Y/N come over here for a sec.” she says, turning around. Walker is running her hand down her face in what looks like frustration. 

I nod, jogging over and leaving Mansk behind. He’s still watching me, trying to make sense of what’s happening.

Neither Z nor Walker looks like they feel like joking around anymore.

“Have you read the manual?” she asks and it takes me a few seconds to realise she means the Na’vi Body data. 

“Yeah, of course, we had to.” I say, trying to play it cool. She raises an eyebrow and I sigh. 

“I stopped once I reached the shit about plants. It got boring.” I say and she nods, knowing damn well she didn’t read further than that either. 

“Walker read it, and it said somethin’ ‘bout a heat cycle.” Z says and I glance at Walker. 

“Yeah… we’re not dehydrated. I remember the symptoms. It’s happening right now.” Walker says, scanning my reddened face. 

“Does it burn?” Z asks and my ears perk forward for once, being relieved from the tense strain I kept them in the past half hour. 

“Everything burns.” I say. 

“You know what I mean.” she adds and I groan in frustration too. 

“Yeah.” I mumble. I can’t deny the heat that’s been forming between my legs. I tried ignoring it but it grew worse. 

“Do you feel, like-” Z says, gasping for air herself. “...uncontrollably horny?” she asks with a light laugh and Walker smirks. 

I have no shame admitting anything in front of them so I chuckle and answer. “More like painfully horny.” 

They laugh a little, struggling to even out their breathing. 

“We need to distance ourselves from them.” Walker says, glancing over her shoulder. “Especially you Y/N you seem to have it bad.” she chuckles, motioning to my panting self. “Otherwise we’re done for and this squad will no longer be as professional.” 

My eyes widen. “Wait- you’re joking right? It’ll go away like tomorrow. How would they know about this if we don’t tell them?” I ask and Walker opens her mouth to answer but before she can, my answer is handed to me differently. 

“You smell that?” someone says behind us. My heart stops pounding for a second. Right our new senses have us picking up more. 

“These cursed blue bitches.” I swear and Z breathily laughs, seeming to know how screwed we are. She’s passed the stage of denial and is now accepting our fate. 

We turn around and notice that Lyle was talking to Prager. Prager nodded and they stopped walking. Mansk had also stopped in his tracks, turning to them. Behind them, Ja, Quaritch, Brown, Lopez and the remaining team catch up and everyone comes to a halt. 

Quaritch walks between them and deeply inhales. He looks around, noticing how his soldiers are smelling what he is too. 

I feel my heart slowly drop and I hold on to Z-Dog for some comfort. All three of us are watching them, dreading their reaction. 

“What is it?” Lopez asks. 

“No idea, but it’s fuckin’ great.” Lyle chuckles and my breath catches in my throat.

 It seems to affect them too. As Lyle inhales, his own tail is swishing around behind him and his muscles flex. He’s growing restless and the recom’s are looking at their Colonel for an answer or instructions. 

My heart seems to stop beating when I see Ja turn to me. Prager’s gaze meets mine as well and it’s so intimidating which is unlike both of them. They’re watching my every movement and I take a step back, my grip on Z’s arm tightening.

“Oh fuck.” I whisper while barely moving my lips. I feel a little hazy again and start leaning against Z-Dog. She sighs looking more pissed than worried and catches me, trying to keep me upright. 

The soldiers follow Ja’s, Prager’s and the Colonel’s eyes and notice us standing a bit further away. 

“It ain’t dehydration, I can tell ya that.” Quaritch says, referring to Ja’s hypothesis of what might be happening. Seems like he read the manual too. 

The stupid excitement in my stomach has grown so big it’s making me feel sick. And all their eyes on us have me more nervous. 

"Do we kill them or ourselves?" Walker asks, not liking any of this.

“Can we leave?” I whisper to Z and she nods, staring down the others as if they would move when she looks away. 

“Yeah, come on.” she says, guiding me forwards. I take a wobbly step, almost stumbling. 

Walking won’t do it. I have so much adrenaline coursing through my veins I want to run away. 

I glance back, noticing everyone’s tense poses. Their eyes follow our every move, making them seem almost predatory. My only instinct now is to run. 

Z gives me a push and my legs take off. I start running and hear Walker and Z-Dog do the same behind me. There’s a commotion happening behind them and the next time I glance behind me, everyone is chasing after us. 

It was a miserable escape attempt, to be honest. We were already so out of breath compared to them, we really didn’t make it far. 

Z caught up to me because she was not affected by the heat as much as me. 

Within the next few seconds, I was tackled to the ground, luckily hitting the soft grass. I fall with a shriek and when I look up I see Z-Dog made it a little further but she’s down now too. 

I felt bodyweight on my back and a hand wrapped around the back of my neck. I couldn’t move. Z-Dog could and the man that pushed her was getting a beating right now. She wasn’t having any of it.

I cry out, feeling uncomfortable in this position. My chest was pressed into the ground and I was struggling to breathe. 

The feeling and the effects of the scent the recom’s picked up had everyone acting on their primal instincts. Most common sense was gone as their new bodies seemed to be overpowered by the will of nature. 

The scent had the soldiers feel just as worked up as the heat cycle did. Instinctively, they ran after the ‘potential mate’ they felt most attracted to because that was Eywa’s will. 

I couldn’t say anything, I felt completely overwhelmed and somehow, submitting to him felt like the right thing to do. My right mind would never let this happen but I couldn’t think of anything else but finding some relief in this agonising feeling. My body longed for this. 

“Shh- it’s alright.” A voice from above me cooed. “Just stop movin’.” 

My eyes shoot wide open and I recognise that it’s Ja. His hands found mine, and he held them together behind my back while leaning forward and speaking close to my ear. 

Another pair of heavy footsteps come to a halt close to me and I see how a weapon is thrown to the ground on my left. 

Ja is straddling me, keeping a knee on my lower back to pin me down while he removes the heavy medical equipment from his back. 

I whine and struggle beneath him again but this time his hand catches my jaw, holding my face still and making me look forwards. He leans down, pressing his face against the side of my head. 

“I know how to help you, princess. Quit the movin’.” he told me, almost snarling his words. 

Next to us I hear a shout of pain and see how Z-Dog has fought a man to the ground. At least she was going to be fine. Ja turns my head away from her, not wanting me to get any ideas from her. 

“Fuck- we really doin’ this?” Another person says and I realise Prager is here too. 

“Shut up and help me out here.” Ja replies, growing restless and impatient. 

The shouting in the distance is increasing and I hear Walker and Z-Dog just demolishing things while the Colonel is yelling and getting angry that equipment is being destroyed. 

Both Prager and Ja’s head’s shoot over to the commotion and they exchange looks. 

A gunshot suddenly makes me flinch and I want to turn my head to see what the actual fuck is happening but Ja doesn’t let me. 

Without hesitating another second, Ja moves off of me and both men hurl me to my feet, quickly dragging me behind a tree. I’m being pulled backwards so I finally get a small glimpse of the action and I notice that something has been set on fire. Looking at what I think are Z-Dog and Walker, I notice how they’ve put the fire between themselves and the others. There was too much going on. 

Suddenly I was being pushed down again and I landed on my knees. Prager and Ja had pulled me away from the others just enough to get some type of privacy. 

The last thing either of the men wanted was one of the others interfering with you. 

I move forwards, staying on my knees but leaning against one of my arms that I now placed on the ground. My free one wrapped around my middle section and I continued to pant. The sensations I felt were so odd. My body seemed to be buzzing and I was overwhelmed. 

Prager and Ja were hastily removing their vests and other equipment, knowing they didn’t have all day and they were not going to waste this opportunity. 

Footsteps jog over to me and Ja lands on his knees in front of me. I look up and see that his torso is bare. With the current state I’m in I can’t help but stare. 

He smirks, cupping my flushed cheek and making me look up at his face. 

“That’s right baby, you’ll get what you want.” he said. Since he was a medic, he had to know everything about the Na’vi body and he knew very well what I needed now. 

My eyes widen at his words as I can only imagine what he means. He chuckles and looks at his friend. 

“Ain’t that right, Prager?”

“Fuckin’ right.” Prager answers and moments later I hear a thud on the ground behind me. He too dropped to his knees and I heard him unbuckling his belt. Ja swiped a strand of hair from my face, brushing it back before smiling. We locked eyes again and he mirrored Prager’s actions, opening and removing his belt with one hand, making me swallow nervously. 

“You want this, don’t you baby?” Ja asked, making sure he and Prager were good to go. I nod, letting out another impatient whine while my fingers tug at the waistband of his pants. 

Ja chuckles, nodding at Prager before opening his pants. I watch with parted lips, not even noticing the drool leaking down the side of my mouth. 

Hands are around my waist and my own pants are being tugged down my legs. Prager pulls them off, throwing them to the side and rubbing over all of the newly exposed skin. He rested his hand on my ass, squeezing the flesh before pulling my panties to the side. His hand wrapped around my tail, lifting it into the air so that my wet cunt was exposed to him.

I shiver when the cool breeze hits my hot skin. Prager hums approvingly, tracing his fingers around my core before sliding his thumb through my folds. 

“Y/N?” Prager says from behind me and I look over my shoulder, seeing he discarded his pants. “Ready?” he asks, wanting to make sure I was still okay. 

I nod my head, breathily saying ‘yes’ because I was out of breath. To make it clear to him I push my hips back, pressing them right up against him. I feel his bare thighs press up against the back of mine and his now free dick is resting between my ass cheeks. 

“Fuckin’ hell…” he curses under his breath and Ja scoffs, wanting some attention too. 

I face forwards again, looking up at Ja who pulled his pants halfway down his thighs, revealing his own length to me. My eyes grow wide and I look at him to make sure I can touch him. 

He tangles his fingers into the hair on the back of my head, edging me closer to him until my hot breath is hitting his skin.

My tail wraps around Prager’s slim waist, pulling him further into me to encourage him to finally do something. He doesn’t need to be told twice. 

Ja’s eyebrows are furrowed and his lips are slightly parted as he watches me and I take the hint. I open my mouth and stick out my saliva-covered tongue, licking around the base of his throbbing erection. His body shudders in excitement while he inhales sharply, tucking in his bottom lip between his teeth. 

I smile at him before moving my tongue further up his dick until I reached his tip. It’s where he’s the most sensitive. It’s also the area I will devote most of my attention to. 

Prager pulled his hips back a bit, his right hand tightly gripping my waist while his left lined up his pulsing cock with my hole. 

Slowly, he pushed his hips forward, watching with lust-darkened eyes how the head of his dick was being engulfed by me.

I close my eyes and moan while keeping my lips attached to Ja’s length. His breathing stuttered unevenly as he felt the vibrations soar through him and then he let his head fall back once my lips wrapped around his tip. 

I sucked on it, keeping my ears perked forward to catch every noise he made. He cursed while looking up at the sky, before watching me work my way down him.

I swirled my tongue around his tip and then pushed myself further down. He already hit the back of my mouth but I decided to not stop there because I only had half of him in my mouth. 

His fingers tightened in my hair but he didn’t push me down further. Ja let me go at my own pace, he just needed to grab onto something to keep him grounded. 

Prager had now pushed all the way in and it immediately felt good. I was finally full. My eyes fluttered closed as I spread my legs further apart for him, arching my back to see if he could go deeper. 

He was hypnotised by my inviting movements and realised how my desperate attempts for more made him even harder. 

Luckily, Prager didn’t keep me waiting and soon found a steady pace. 

I was being nudged forwards with each thrust of Prager’s hips and thereby moved my head up and down Ja’s dick. I inhaled deeply through my nose, closing my eyes to concentrate as I pushed my head down further down him. 

Ja’s eyes turned from watching me half-closed to being unable to look away. He was surprised by how much of him you were able to take and it made his dick twitch in your mouth. Fuck, how did he only realise now how perfect you were?

Prager’s hips snap forward more suddenly this time, rocking me further forward so that my nose hits Ja’s abdomen while his dick is down my throat. Ja’s mouth is hanging open and he moans once he bottoms out. 

“Holy shit-” he curses through clenched teeth as he fights his body and tries his absolute best not to spill just yet. “Didn’t know you could take it all.” he breathes out, trying to calm his panting. I hum in response, pulling back before pushing down all the way again. Ja’s muscles flex as his body floods with waves of pleasure. 

Prager is pulling my hips back against his now, every time he thrusts into me and with my further spread legs, he hits my sweet spot at a new angle, managing to plunge himself deeper into me. 

I moan around Ja, going weak in the arms for a second and he curses. 

“Shit. Whatever you’re doin’ Prager-” he groans, clenching his eyes closed. “Don’t stop.” 

Prager nods with a grin, relishing in the feeling of your warm walls tightly hugging him. He also takes note of the slick slowly running down your thighs. The sight turned him on so much he couldn’t wait to cum deep inside you. The way you started rocking into him indicated you were close so he was glad he wouldn’t have to restrain himself for too long.

Ja was so close to losing it, shivering and groaning every time your face pressed against his lower stomach. 

I decided to take it up a notch and hollowed my cheeks around him each time I pushed forward. This way I was creating a strong suction, not letting his dick escape my mouth when I pulled back. His tip always stayed in my mouth. 

Suddenly Ja whimpered, making my ears shoot forward.

He threw his head back moaning “Fuck, fuck fuck-” and couldn’t stop his hand from pushing your head down him as far as possible. His hips bucked forwards and he stilled while his entire body tensed and he released his load deep down your throat. 

The way you hollowed your cheeks made him cum instantly, loving the feeling of how you sucked him dry. 

Prager’s huffing turned into groans and growls as he dug his fingertips into my hips, rutting into me like there was no tomorrow. 

I swallow all of Ja’s cum and he releases my hair, sitting back on his knees and breathing heavily. I gently pull back from him, letting out a small cough before licking away any remaining cum on his dick. He watched me with soft eyes, almost falling in love at the sight. 

Prager moans, letting his head hang down for a second as he leans over my back and wraps both arms around my waist. His head is resting in the crook of my neck while his chest is pressed up against my back and his hips continue their brutal pace. Our skin slaps against each other and I know my ass is going to be red or at least a shade of purple by the time we are done.

I’m finally so close to my own high that I curl my fingers in the grass, pushing my ass further into the air so that he can access my cunt better. 

Prager doesn’t stop ploughing into me and continues the bruising pace while the sweat on our bodies mixes. 

“Prager-” I moan, closing my eyes. “I’m so- close.” 

His deep voice growls into my ear when he hears the words, making him speed up his thrusts even more. 

“Cum for us. C’mon.” he breathes, encouraging me as he feels his own high near him. 

I cry out and suddenly I’m pushed over the edge. My pussy clenches around Prager’s dick as he rides out my orgasm which leaves my arms and legs shaking. 

His hips stutter and once I’ve come down from my high, he bites down into my shoulder and buries himself as deep into me as possible. His cum shoots into me, filling me up while my now sensitive pussy throbs around him. 

His hot breath coming from his nose is fanning against my shoulder which he gently releases from his bite. Prager looks down at it, not quite sure why he felt the need to do that.

“You okay?” he whispers, nuzzling his face into my neck and awaiting a response. 

I nod, inhaling deeply. “Yeah. Much better.” 

Ja chuckles and Prager smiles before pushing himself off of me and gently pulling out. 

He leans back, examining how his semen is drizzling out of my cum stuffed cunt. 

“That’s stayin’ there.” He said, fingering it back in with his fingers. I gasp, biting down on my teeth. Ja rubs my attacked shoulder, wiping some blood away with his thumb in an attempt to soothe me a little while Prager puts my panties on, making sure most of his cum was still inside me. 

They dressed me first which I appreciated, helping me back into my pants before they clothed themselves. While they were getting dressed I just lay on the forest floor, going over what just happened. 

At least I was no longer burning up. I was sure it would come back but it was solved for now. 

They walk over to me, gently but effortlessly heaving me to my feet and both of them chuckle when my legs tremble. 

“Don’t worry, we got you.” Prager said, wrapping an arm around my waist and helping me walk again. 

When we returned to the others, the ground was a mess. The fire had been put out but a soldier which Z had probably hit was sitting on the ground with a cooling blue pack over their eye. Seems like Fike got the worst beating. 

They were all sitting on the ground and the Colonel was walking by them, making them fix all the equipment that had been broken. 

We were glad not to be a part of that and managed to rejoin them without raising suspicion. Everyone was distracted so they didn’t notice me struggling to stand and Ja and Prager refusing to leave my side. 

Tag List: @ikranwings @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @number1gal

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Lessons in Deviance | S.R (Part 1/2)

Not my gif

Part Two

Summary - you were more than smart enough to know that playing dumb to get more help from your incredibly attractive professor was a bad idea. And now you’ve found yourself caught up in an extremely sexy, yet dangerous game of cat and mouse with Doctor Spencer Reid, that neither of you are prepared to lose.

A/N - a two parter as it got away from me a little! Thank you as always to the wonderful @andiebeaword and @smurphyse for reading and brainstorming this with me!

Pairing - Professor! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - absolute filth, seriously (minors DNI) angst in second part with a happy ending.

Content Warnings - age gap between consenting adults, professor x student relationship, very, very brief mentions of prison, Maeve and Hankel, lots of sexual tension, lots of flirtation, swearing, masturbation (male and female), drinking, use of “whore”, use of “good girl”, dirty talk, sexting (yes Doctor Reid sexting), lots of teasing, perv Spencer, slight exhibitionism.

Word Count - 9.4K

Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Right, who can give me an example of a psychological stressor?” Spencer looked around the room at the faces in his criminology class.

He already learnt that at least half the class was just here for auditing purposes. A classroom full of beautiful women who had nothing better to do than audit his class? Go figure.

There was one face in his class however that stuck out above the rest. He looked forward to this class more than most because you were in it. 

On the first day of the semester you had strolled into his classroom and taken the seat two in from the aisle on the third from last row where you had sat every week since. You’d caught his eye straight away with your skimpy summer dress and you’d kept his attention with your warm eyes and friendly smile. 

You always listened so intently to every word from his lips, nodding and chewing your lip as you took notes on your laptop, your fingers flying across the keys without even glancing down. 

He’d read your transcript, he had read everyone in his class’ but yours he took a little more interest in. 

Your name was Y/N Y/L/N, you were twenty three years old (much too young for the perverse thoughts he’d had about you) and you were incredibly smart. Your transcript lit up like a Christmas tree. Your grades were phenomenal. 

But that’s where the problem lies. Because thus far, you were failing his class terribly.

He didn’t understand it. He’d read your transcript again and again to make sure he hadn’t missed anything but of course he hadn’t. For all intents and purposes you should have been passing his class with flying colours. It just didn’t make any sense.

“Miss Y/L/N?” he pointed to you, catching you off guard.

“Uh,” you chewed your lip “Sorry I don’t know.” you shook your head with a small shrug.

He frowned a little trying to read your expression. You didn’t look all that sorry. Definitely embarrassed, not so sorry.

He glanced at his watch, seeing it was time to wrap up class for another week.

“Ok, looks like we’re out of time. See you all next week.” he dismissed the class. “Uh, Y/N, could you stay behind for a moment please?” 

You felt your cheeks burning and you tried to hide it by focusing on packing your laptop away. You waited until the rest of the class had emptied out before you slowly padded down the stairs to the front of the class.

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you approached your incredibly attractive professor. 

“Doctor Reid,” you tried to keep your voice level as you spoke. 

“Y/N, hi.” he gave you one of his awkward waves that you found adorable. “You seem to be...struggling a little with the material.” 

You chewed on your bottom lip with a small nod.

“I am.” You confessed. 

“Why do you think that is?” He sat on the edge of the desk and folded his arms across his chest. 

“I’m...I’m not sure.” You offered him a pathetic shrug. 

“I’ve read your transcript Y/N, it’s very impressive.” 

Your cheeks burned at his words. It was an impressive transcript. You knew that. But hearing your incredibly attractive professor tell you so made you shy.

“Which is why I find it so hard to understand why you’re failing the class. Clearly you’re exceptionally smart, so what is it that is causing you an issue?”

You were still gnawing your lip in embarrassment. 

“I really don’t know Doctor Reid. Something just isn’t clicking.”

“Is it me?” He unfolded his arms, a wave of insecurity washed over his features. “Am I not...maybe I’m not a good teacher.”

“What? No! You’re a great teacher!” You were quick to counter, too quick probably. 

“It must be something.”

“I’m not sure.” You shrugged again.

“Do you think you’d maybe benefit from one on one sessions?”

Oh god why did that sound so sexy?

You swallowed, trying to remind yourself he did not mean what you wanted him to mean. 

“Uh yeah, that could be really helpful actually.” 

“Ok great.” He smiled a little. “I have office hours tomorrow and Friday’s between five and seven PM. Maybe if we can dig down on the areas you’re struggling with I can help make sense of it for you.” 

“That sounds great, thank you Doctor Reid.” You nodded with a smile. “I’ll come by tomorrow.” 

“Good.”

“Can’t wait.” You muttered under your breath before you turned and walked away.

Spencer watched you leave, mesmerised by the way your backside moved as you walked, the graceful swing of your hips. 

He was determined to turn your grades around. He was going to help you pass his class. And if he got to be alone with you while he did it, all the better.

***

The following evening you had tried to look as though you hadn’t spent three hours getting ready for Doctor Reid’s office hours. 

You wanted to look nice but not as though you were trying to impress him even though you were most certainly were. 

You settled on your favourite pair of black jeans that accentuates your curves, hugging you in all the right places and paired them with a short sleeved lace blouse. 

Your bra was just visible beneath the fabric. Enough that Doctor Reid would surely see it but not enough to make it look deliberate. You’d added some subtle make-up and spent a long time on your hair before you left your apartment and headed to campus.

You tentatively knocked on his office door, feeling a wave of nerves crash over you as you thought about being alone with the beautiful doctor. It was unfair really how gorgeous he was, how could anyone be expected to learn when he was the one teaching?

“Come in!” his voice carried through the door and after taking a few deep breaths you entered. 

His office was much as you’d pictured it to be, dark wood furniture, bursting bookshelves and a desk littered with paper and yet more books. 

Spencer sat behind the desk. He was smiling at you as you entered.

“Y/N hi, come in.” he motioned you into the office. You closed the door behind you and stepped towards the desk.

“I brought coffee.” you set the takeaway cups down on the desk, sliding one closer to Doctor Reid. 

“Oh wow, thank you.” he smiled brightly, taking the cup. “I’ve been busy grading papers, I haven’t had a chance to get a fresh cup in hours.” 

His smile drew your eyes to his lips. It was such a wonderful smile and you loved that you could be the one to elicit it from him. 

You slid into the chair on the other side of the desk. 

“Thanks again for helping me Doctor Reid. I’m sure I’ll get it, I just need a little assistance.” 

“It’s not a problem really.” He smiled again, so genuinely that you believed he didn’t mind helping you. “Shall we start with what we were covering in yesterday’s class?”

He reached for a book on the corner of the desk and opened it at a pre-marked page. 

“Stressors,” he took a sip of coffee. “A stressor is…” he looked at you, hoping you’d field the rest.

A chemical or biological agent, environmental condition, external stimulus or an event causing stress on an organism, you spoke in your head.

“Uh…” you chewed your lip. “The event that makes someone a killer.” You shrugged.

“Well kind of. But I was looking for a little more.

A stressor is a chemical or biological agent, environmental condition, external stimulus or an event causing stress on an organism. So psychologically speaking, stressors can be events or environments that individuals might perceive to be demanding, challenging or threatening. Do you want to take notes?”

You tore your eyes away from him nodding. You grabbed your bag, sliding your laptop out and opening it on the desk. 

Your fingers danced across the keys. 

“Do you remember the two psychological stress tests we discussed in class?”

Perceived Stress Scale and the Social Readjustment Rating Scale.

“No sorry.” You chewed your lip shyly. “I think PSS was one but I can’t quite remember what it stands for.” You pretended as though you were looking through your notes. 

Spencer let out a small sigh. 

“We might have our work cut out for us.” He sipped his coffee. 

“I’m sorry Doctor Reid.” 

“It’s ok.” He smiled. “It’s fine really. I’m going to help you. Together we can do this ok?” 

You smiled at him with a nod. The look of determination in his eyes had you feeling a little guilty.

Maybe this hadn’t been the most ideal way to get close to your professor. Maybe given how smart you actually were you should have known playing dumb wasn’t a good idea. Surely it was only going to come back to bite you in the ass one day.

But for now having Doctor Reid think you were failing class and giving you extra help seemed like the only way to have an excuse to spend time with him outside of class.

So you smiled, nodded and said, “thank you Doctor Reid, I really appreciate it.”

***

“I’m so fucked.” Spencer muttered to himself as he stared down at the desk in his office the following morning. He couldn’t even bring himself to sit down because it had felt so real.

Last night the two of you had been here way past his office hours, in fact it was nearing ten PM by the time Spencer checked his watch the first time. 

You spent the first few hours going over class notes, leaning towards topics that would be covered on the final. You hung off his every word much like you did in class which was why he was failing to understand why you weren’t grasping the material.

After a while the conversation turned lighter. You’d started asking him about himself. At first he’d been cautious with his words, not wanting to give too much away about his personal self to one of his students. 

“What was it like working for the BAU? I can only imagine.” You smiled at him over your laptop, your eyes dancing with intrigue.

“It was fascinating.” 

“Oh come on, give me more than that Doctor.” You laughed, such a magnificent sound it sounded as though it had been crafted in heaven.

He’d been called Doctor his whole adult life by all variety of people, but hearing his honorific spoken from your lips had a completely different effect on him. He hoped you didn’t notice the shudder that passed up his spine.

“It was the best years of my life.” he confessed. “I got to work with some really remarkable profilers and help catch the most prolific serial killers.” keep it vague, don’t get sucked in by a pair of pretty eyes.

“Why did you leave?”

Now that was the million dollar question. Was it because he’d spent three months in a maximum security prison? Had that been the beginning of the end for his career at the BAU? It was safe to say he’d certainly never been the same since. 

Or was it Everett Lynch that had pushed him over the edge? Getting blown up and nearly dying? Cat Addams destroying his relationship with Max? It could have been any number of things or a combination of all of them.

“It was time for a change.” he said instead.

“You’re an enigma, has anyone ever told you that before Doctor Reid?” you smirked at him a little.

He knew what was happening. You were flirting with him. A few years ago Spencer wouldn’t have picked up on the signs. 

“I have a good poker face.” 

“Very.” you narrowed your eyes on him. “Did it have anything to do with The Chameleon? You left soon after that case did you not?”

Ah, so she’d Googled him. Well played he thought.

“He might have been a contributing factor.” he simply shrugged. “I was just ready for a change of pace.”

If you’d Googled him, what else did you know? Did you know about prison? Did you know about Hankel? Maeve? He’d never Googled himself so he didn’t know what was written about him on the internet. 

“Teaching is certainly that.” 

After that you’d dropped the personal questions. His walls had shot up and he pushed you back at arm's length. 

He’d gone home and crawled into bed and when he’d closed his eyes he’d seen you. Your large expressive eyes, warm and playful smile. He’d seen the bra peeking out from under your blouse. 

His dream last night had been a sordid one, one that had left him tentative to approach his own desk this morning. 

There was no way to sugarcoat it. Spencer had dreamt of fucking you over his desk. He’d dreamt of bending you over the wooden furniture and pounding you into oblivion. He’d imagined how tight and warm you would feel wrapped around his hard dick as he made you scream his name. 

“Doctor Reid, oh god that feels so good.” 

He’d woken up painfully hard and panting. He’d jumped straight into a cold shower but that had done very little to subside his arousal. Reluctantly he’d had to do something about it or he knew it would be in the back of his mind all day.

So standing under the heavy flow of water he had wrapped his hand around his shaft and pumped. His eyes had immediately fluttered closed and he couldn’t help but be transported back to his dream. He imagined your hand moving up and down his length instead of his own while he sucked on your sensitive nipples. 

It took almost no time at all for him to climax, spilling his load on his hand and the shower basin. He’d hoped that would be the end of it but now in his office all he could think of was that dream and his subsequent shower session with his hand.

He’d tried to tell himself it was ok, you were young sure, but you were in your twenties so it wasn’t completely inappropriate. But you were his student so really it didn’t matter that you were old enough because it was still so wrong. 

But the truth of the matter was, Spencer had never felt like this before about a woman. He’d never found himself so turned on by physical appearance. But you were otherworldly, ethereal, too good to be real. It was as though you’d been sent to test him. 

And test him you were. 

He’d thought leaving the BAU would remove the dangerous aspect from his life but this felt like the most dangerous situation he’d encountered yet. And a badge and a gun weren’t going to get him out of this one.

***

Friday evenings would not normally be a time you’d want to spend with your professor. Unless that is, said professor was Doctor Spencer Reid. 

Today you’d opted for a denim skirt, tights and chunky Doc Marten boots and a band t-shirt, having to explain to Doctor Reid who exactly the Arctic Monkeys were. 

You’d bought coffee again and dove straight into the class material. 

It was hard work, pretending to be dumb. You had an IQ of nearly a hundred and thirty, so trying to dumb yourself down in front of Doctor Reid was difficult to say the least.

You knew the material well enough you could probably teach the class. But this seemed like the only way you could find to keep up your one-on-one sessions.

“Tell me something that happened on one of your cases with the BAU.” You asked him out of the blue, sitting back in the chair and crossing one leg over the other. 

You weren’t a profiler by any stretch of the imagination and to his credit, Doctor Reid had an excellent poker face. But you could tell when you asked him questions outside of the curricular he faltered. 

You could tell he was hesitant about opening up to one of his students and he wanted desperately to keep things professional. But you were determined to break his walls down.

“Like what?” he took your bait, leaning forward on the desk.

“I don’t know.” you shrugged. “Have you ever been shot?”

He chuckled dryly.

“Yes twice.” 

“Twice?” you gasped making him chuckled again.

“Yes, once in the leg and once in the neck. I’ve been held hostage, I was involved in an explosion. Never a dull moment at the BAU.” 

“Wow.” your eyes were wide. “And you gave that all up for this boring life?” you laughed.

“Yes, yes I did.” he smiled softly at you, a look in his eye you couldn’t read. 

It felt like he was scrutinizing you.

“Are you profiling me?” you raised an eyebrow at him.

“Not deliberately.” he told you honestly. “It’s hard to turn it off.”

“So what do you profile about me then Doctor Reid?” you challenged him. Once again he took the bait.

“Honestly I’m struggling to read too much. You keep your cards very close to your chest. You’ve built up some big walls around yourself, mostly likely because you got hurt and you’re scared to let people in. You're outwardly flirtatious and confident but I think that’s a way of hiding your insecurities. 

You have a caring nature though, that much is evident in the way you bring me coffee. It’s such a small gesture but it gives away more than you’d think. I get the impression you’re a big sister and there’s a large age gap between you and your younger sibling. One or both of your parents weren’t around much when you were growing up so you had to care for them. You had to grow up while you were still a child.”

Damn, he was good.

“Wow, they must miss you at the BAU.” you laughed. “That was kind of scary. I have a fourteen year old sister. My mom left when she was three and I was twelve. Our dad worked two jobs just to keep up with the bills and it meant I was left to look after her.” 

He took a sip of coffee as if as a reward to himself. 

“I’ve very rarely wrong.” he smiled a little smugly.

“You might be good but I can do that too. See when I mentioned my mom leaving your expression wavered ever so slightly. I think you had a parent leave when you were young too.”

He chewed his lip, mulling over how much he was willing to confide in you. He tried to remind himself you were his student but for the life of him he wanted to talk to you about anything and everything.

“My dad. I was ten.” 

“And you didn’t have a reaction when I spoke about my sister so that tells me you’re an only child.”

“Well done Y/N. I am an only child. It baffles me how you are failing my class.” the look he was giving you told you he was onto you and you couldn’t help but swallow hard under his gaze.

Suddenly your phone went off in your pocket with an incoming message so you didn’t have to respond to him.

“Oh gosh, it’s nearly nine thirty. I was supposed to meet some friends.” 

“Oh,” Spencer stood up from his chair. “I am so sorry to have kept you this late Y/N.”

“Don’t be sorry.” You stood, slipping your laptop back in your bag. “It’s been a nice evening.” 

You tried not to blush as you spoke. 

“It has.” He sighed almost dreamily and suddenly you weren’t ready to part ways.

“Are you a poetry fan Doctor Reid?”

“Uh yeah?” He frowned, confused as to why you would suddenly ask such a thing.

“I’m going to a poetry slam. Do you want to come?” It might be wildly inappropriate to even ask but you really didn’t want to leave him.

“Uh…” he swallowed. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. I don’t know that I should be out with people of your age.”

“I’m twenty three not sixteen.” You giggled and the sound sent shockwaves through Spencer. 

“Still a lot younger than me.”

“You don’t look a day over thirty five.” You winked at him and he felt his dick twitch in his pants.

“You’re my student.” 

“I’m just asking you to come to a poetry slam, Doctor Reid it’s not a date.” You rolled your eyes a little. “Have a good weekend Doctor.” 

You slung your bag over your shoulder and headed for the door.

“Wait,” he spoke as you reached for the door handle. 

You turned back to see him chewing his lip.

“Poetry slams are kind of cool.” He shrugged. 

You couldn’t stop the wide smile that spread to your features. 

“They are.” 

He sighed and picked up his messenger bag. 

“My cars out front, I’ll drive.” 

“Perfect.” 

You left his office together and headed outside to the parking lot. There were very few cars left at this time of night. 

He led you over to a cream coloured 1965 Volvo 122S Amazon and unlocked the door.

“Why am I not surprised this is your car?” You laughed a little sliding into the passenger seat. 

“I like the classics.” 

You both buckled yourselves in before Spencer started the engine and pulled out of the parking space. 

“It seems to run pretty well for an older model.” you observed as he drove.

“I try to take good care of her. I usually get the metro but every once in a while she needs her cobwebs blowing off.”

“She? Why do men always gender their cars?” you shuffled a little in your seat so you could look at him. 

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye but kept his attention on the road.

“She’s a classic,” his lip turned up in a smile. “Sleek and beautiful. Of course it’s a she.” 

“Tell me Doctor,” you smirked to yourself. “Do you make her purr like a kitten for you?”

Your voice was dripping with seduction and you knew Spencer heard it because you saw his Adam's apple dip below his soft flesh as he swallowed.

“Uh…” he didn’t want to let you trip him up, so he tried to pull at his confidence to respond to you. “They always purr like a kitten for me.”

His words shot straight between your legs, making you instantly wet. God you’d like to see that.

“Doctor Reid,” you pressed your thighs together. “Are you flirting with me?”

He swallowed again, licking his bottom lip.

“Uh…” yes, yes he was. And he knew how wrong that was.

Thankfully he didn’t have to answer as suddenly your phone was ringing. 

“Hey,” you said once you put the device to your ear. “About ten minutes. Ok see you soon.” 

As quickly as you answered you hung up again. 

You thought about pushing Doctor Reid for an answer because you were sure he had been flirting with you and you loved it. 

Maybe you’d have to try and be more flirtatious in the hopes he would return the gesture. 

The rest of the journey was travelled in silence but it wasn’t too long before he pulled the car to a stop outside the bar you had told him to go to, a little place downtown called The Brighton. 

You let yourself out of the car and Spencer locked up before joining you on the sidewalk. 

“Just a thought,” you spoke before you headed inside. “It might be best we don’t say you’re my professor. You know how people talk.”

“Good idea.” He agreed although this was starting to feel a little sordid. 

“I’ll just say you're in my criminology class, that way it isn’t a lie.” 

“You should probably call me Spencer then.” He offered meekly. It was a slippery slope if you started calling him by his first name, he knew that. 

“Ok...Spencer.” You tried it out, liking the way it sounded on your tongue.

Spencer liked it too, probably a little too much. 

You headed into the bar, Spencer following behind you, trying but failing not to look at you ass as you walked.

You spotted your friends at a booth in the corner and made a beeline for them. 

“Y/N, you made it, finally.” Jen stood and embraced you. 

“Sorry, study session ran over.”

“Oh is this the study sessions with the ever so handsome Doctor Reid we keep hearing all about?” Steve raised his eyebrows suggestively at you.

You swallowed, feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment.��

“Uh yeah,” you tried to shrug it off and hope Spencer hadn’t been listening. “Anyway, this is my friend Spencer. We have criminology together.” you motioned to him, catching a hint of a smirk from his lips. “Spencer, this is Jen, Steve, Nila and Martina.” you motioned to the faces around the table.

“Nice to meet you all.” Spencer gave them all one of his awkward waves. 

“Dude you look more like a professor than a student.” Steve laughed, pointing at Spencer’s tie and blazer combo.

“Uh...yeah.” Spencer rolled his bottom lip between his teeth. “Can I get anyone a drink?” 

“Ohh please!” Jen spoke up for the group. “A pitcher of margaritas!”

You rolled your eyes.

“They’ll have beers.” you told him.

“Coming right up.” he leant closer to you making sure only you could hear his next words. “They are all over twenty one right?” 

You chuckled.

“Yes Doctor.” you whispered. “Why, are you going to card them?” 

“I just wanted to make sure. I trust you. Would you also like a beer?”

“Please. I’ll come give you a hand.”

Why did that make his cock throb? 

“O-ok.” he stuttered a little, turning towards the bar. 

You followed him and watched as he caught the attention of the bartender quickly, probably because of his tall stature. 

“Five beers and a black coffee please.”

“Coffee?” you scoffed. 

“Yeah, is that ok?” he laughed.

“No! He’ll have a beer. Six beers.” you told the bartender and before Spencer had a chance to argue he was already gone.

“I don’t like beer.”

“Tough.” you smirked. 

“And in case you’ve forgotten how we got here, I have to drive home.” 

You waved a dismissive hand at him.

“You said you were a dab hand at the metro. Your car will still be here tomorrow.” 

“You’re a bad influence, do you know that?” 

“Heard it once or twice. It didn’t exactly take a lot of convincing.” Your eyes sparkled and his cock throbbed again. 

He was half way to standing at full attention just by the look you were giving him. You were surely going to be the death of him. 

Your drinks were brought over soon after and Spencer paid before you both carried them back over to your table. 

You slid in next to Jen and Spencer slid in next to you at the end. It was a tight squeeze and he found his thigh pressed up against yours and tried to ignore the forced proximity it put you in. 

“So, Y/N,” Nila leant forward on the table, eyes full of mischief. “How was your study session with the incredibly attractive professor you can’t shut up about?”

God fucking damn. 

Maybe you should have thought through bringing Spencer here. 

“Uh…good.” You sipped your beer, practically feeling the smirk on Spencer’s lips from beside you. 

“You’re in his class too?” Nila turned to Spencer. “Is the hype about this guy really all she cracks it up to be?” 

Spencer tried to hide the amusement from his face and swallowed before answering. 

“Well, he’s not my type.” He nudged your leg with his. “But I’d love to hear more about what Y/N thinks of him.” 

“Trust me,” you glared at him. “You don’t.” 

His eyes were full of playfulness and his lips tugged at the corner in a delighted smile. 

You didn’t know if you wanted to slap him or kiss him more. 

Thankfully the lights dimmed then and a scruffy looking college student took to the small stage and all your attention fell on him. 

But all night you felt Spencer’s gaze on the side of your face. As the night went on you were convinced his thigh was pressing up against yours with more and more force. 

There were even a couple of instances when his fingers ghosted over your knee, sending shockwaves through your entire body. 

Several more drinks flowed and during an interval you excused yourself to use the bathroom. 

Once you were gone, your friends turned to Spencer.

“Do you think Doctor Reid is buying it?” Martina smirked at him. 

“Buying what?” Spencer sipped his beer curiously. 

“Her playing dumb.” Steve chuckled. “Personally I don’t think she can pull it off. But their study sessions seem to contradict that.”

Spencer smirked around his beer.

He knew there was no possible way someone as smart as you was struggling as much as you claimed to be. 

He should be annoyed. You were lying to him, monopolising his time when it could be spent on students who really needed his time. 

But Spencer wasn’t annoyed. Far from it. He was actually incredibly turned on by your devious little scheme. 

“I uh…I guess he must be.” Spencer shrugged. “Excuse me for a moment.” 

He slid out of the booth, amusement written all over his face. Just as he was approaching the narrow corridor that led to the bathrooms, you stepped out of the womens. 

The slender corridor wasn’t wide enough for you to pass by each other without one of you moving aside. But as Spencer approached you, he showed no signs of moving out of the way. 

You tried to duck past him but he remained in the centre of the corridor, shoulders squared off so you couldn’t pass him.

“Is there a password I don’t know about?” You chuckled lightly, trying to ignore how dark his eyes were. 

You gasped a little when he took you by the shoulders and guided you against one of the walls. 

“You’re playing a dangerous game.” He whispered with a delicious smirk on his lips. 

“How so?” You cocked your eyebrow at him. 

Spencer could have told you he knew all about your ploy to spend time with him by acting dumb. He could have told you the game was up and he knew exactly what you were doing. 

But if you could play games, Spencer didn’t want to miss out on the fun. 

“I’m much too old for you.” His hands left your shoulders and he placed them flush against the wall either side of your face. 

“Oh please.” You scoffed. “I’m not a kid. And despite your love of classic cars, I know you like your women younger, Doctor Reid.” 

An involuntary hiss left his mouth at the way you said his name. 

“You’re my student.” He changed tacts, although his close proximity to you didn’t seem at all as though he cared. 

“So?” You huffed, ensuring the action caused your breasts to heave. 

Spencer’s eyes briefly flicked down your chest and you saw him mentally scold himself before he looked back at your face. 

“Once I pass your class at the end of the semester, I’m not your student anymore.” 

“Once you pass it?” He smirked at you. 

Fuck, you swallowed. 

“If. If I pass it.”

“I think you’re a lot smarter than you’re coming across, Y/N. And I won't be able to look you in the eyes in class if I were to do to you what I’ve been imagining doing to you.”

You whimpered a little, his words causing a heat to spread through your legs. 

“I don’t want you to look me in the eyes.” You dared bring your hands up and rest on his shoulders. 

“Maybe it will give you an incentive to pass my class.” He inched a little closer to you, voice low and breathy. 

He had the upper hand here and you didn’t like it at all. You needed to grasp back some of that power. 

“You’re a tease, Doctor.” Your eyes darkened. “But two can play that game.” 

You trailed one hand from his shoulder and down his chest. His breathing became heavier the lower your hand got. 

When you palmed his erection through his slacks he moaned deeply, biting down on his lip. 

“If you’re such a good teacher, it should be a piece of cake to help me pass your class.” You got up on your tiptoes and came close to his ear. “Maybe as a thank you I’ll get down on my knees and worship you with my mouth.”

His hips bucked against your hand and his face was turning red. 

“Or we could just get it over with and I could do it right here, right now.” You lapped your tongue over his ear lobe and he shuddered. 

“You’re sinful.” He panted a little, hips rolling back and forth against your hand. 

Suddenly you let go of him and let your hands fall back to your sides. 

“I’ll be anything you want me to be, Doctor.”

Out of nowhere his hand came to your neck and his long fingers wrapped around your throat. He thrust his hips against you, eyes dark as he glared at you.

“I’ve got half a mind to take you in that bathroom and fuck you over the sink like the whore you are.” 

A strangled moan escaped your mouth, his grip firm on your throat. 

“You certainly wouldn’t regret it.” You goaded him. 

Spencer laughed dryly, letting go of your neck and stepping back from you. 

“I most certainly wouldn’t.” He agreed. “But I want to watch you squirm. By the time you finally get to have me, I want you to be desperate for me. I have amazing willpower, Y/N and I’ve gotten used to the company of my own hand. I can wait. The question is, can you?” 

“Now who’s playing a dangerous game, Doctor Reid?” You folded your arms in frustration, trying hopelessly not to imagine the thought of him and his own hand he’d put in your head. 

“You don’t work for the FBI for fifteen years without growing a little accustomed to danger, angel.” He looked smug, too pleased with himself. 

You wanted to knock him down a peg or two. And you would. Not just yet, but you would. 

You didn’t say anymore, deciding to just leave him guessing. 

You turned on your heels and sauntered away, knowing full well he was watching you go. 

***

It was two days later on Sunday night when you decided to start having some fun.

You dug out the original syllabus Doctor Reid had handed out at the start of the semester, the one he’d included his email address and phone number on. 

You picked out your most sinful pair of lingerie, a deep purple coloured two piece which showcased your assets in the most sublime way and would surely turn Spencer into a fucking puddle. 

You laid on your bed and snapped a few photos, keeping your face out of frame in case any one found the photo in his phone. 

You pushed your breasts together with your arms, practically spilling over the top of your bra. 

You chose the best one, one where your nipples were ever so slightly peeking out of the sheer fabric and brought a new text conversation, sending the photo along with the message: thinking of you, Danny. 

Spencer would see right through you. He was too smart to fall for the implication you’d accidentally sent it to him. 

But you had to at least try and pretend you weren’t deliberately sending your professor lewd photographs. 

Your phone buzzed with a reply less than a minute later. 

📱Doctor Spencer Reid: I’m sorry I think you have the wrong number. 

You chewed your lip on contemplation. It was possible with your face out of frame he didn’t know it was you. But it was also possible he was trying to play you at your own game. 

📲 Oh, this isn’t Danny? This is Y/N, we met at the bar last night? 

That ought to do it. 

📱 Doctor Spencer Reid: oh I know who it is. Childish, of you really, Y/N.

And you thought that was the end of it. You huffed to yourself, maybe he had better willpower than you gave him credit for. 

Almost five minutes passed while you tried to think of your next move but then your phone buzzed again, this time a picture message. 

📲 Doctor Spencer Reid: thinking of you, “Delilah”. 

The photo accompanying it spread a heat between your legs instantly. 

The image displayed Spencer’s very hard cock sheathed in a pair of black boxers, his swollen head just peeking out of the top of the fabric. 

You moaned as a shudder wracked your body and your hand quickly found its way between your legs. 

You were drenched just from the sight of him and you started rubbing your clit as you stared at the photograph. 

When an incoming call displayed on your screen you smirked to yourself and quickly answered it with your free hand and put the device on speaker. 

“Hi Danny,” your breath hitched as you spoke. 

“You’re touching yourself aren’t you, Delilah?” 

“Aren’t you?” You moaned a little. 

“Fuck of course I am.” His voice was breathy. “I wish I could see your hand between your legs though.” 

Feeling completely brazen, you angled your camera towards where your fingers rubbed against your core and snapped a photo before sending it. 

You knew the exact moment Spencer received it as he moaned animalistically down the phone. 

“Jesus Christ.” He whined, gripping the base of his cock to stop himself from blowing his load over that photo.

“Tit for tat, Doctor.” You hummed, picturing his long slender fingers between your legs. 

You weren’t sure he was going to comply as for a few minutes all you heard was his heavy panting. 

And then a notification popped up on your screen. 

The noise that left your mouth could only be described as feral as you took in the sight of his large hand wrapped around the base of his even larger dick. 

He was so hard his vein looked like it was pulsing even in a still picture and his head was slicked with precome. 

“Oh my fuck.” You closed your eyes, keeping that image at the forefront of your mind. 

“Good god what I would do to you, angel. You have no idea the things I could do to you.” 

“Tell me.” You whined. 

Spencer laughed but it turned into a moan as he increased the speed of his strokes. 

“We wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise would we?” 

“I hate surprises.” You huffed a little. 

“Trust me when I say you wouldn’t hate mine.” 

“Are you looking at my picture, Doctor?”

“I don’t need to, it’s burned into my brain angel. Tell me how good you’re making yourself feel.” He moaned as he spoke, clearly working himself up well. 

“I’m pretty masterful with my own fingers.” Your toes curled. “But your fucking obscene hands would make me come so much faster, I’m sure.”

He chuckled a little. 

“Your beautiful dainty little hand wouldn’t know what to do with a cock as big as mine.”

“Oh I’m sure I’d be up for the challenge. And if not, my pussy would be more than willing to accommodate you.“

“Fuck.” He hissed, his stomach tightening. “I would rip your delicious cunt to shreds angel.” 

“Oh god.” You back arched as your orgasm started to ripple through you. “Rip me apart, Doctor. Fuck, I need you to…need you to…”

“Come for me angel.” He panted and you were dumb to do anything but. 

The sounds of you coming undone sent Spencer spiralling to his own release and he grunted loudly as his orgasm shook his whole body. 

You didn’t speak for a while, just laid in silence listening to the others heavy breathing as you both came down from your highs. 

His breathing was punctuated with muttered swears, the occasional fuck and shit leaving his lips. 

You imagined his fluffy hair sticking to his forehead, his face red as he nuzzled into your neck and you placed sleepy kisses in his hair. 

God how you wished he was in your bed and not his own. 

After a while his breathing started to level out and he whispered a simple “goodnight” before he hung up the phone. 

You picked up your phone and quickly renamed his contact, you couldn’t risk anyone seeing who really sent you those photos. 

Before you gave over to sleep, you snapped one last picture to send to him. 

You drew your fingers that had just been between your legs to your lips and cropped the photo so he could only see the way your digits nestled between your lips. 

📱Doctor Danny: Goodnight, Doctor.

As you’d hoped, a couple of minutes later a text came through, an image of his stomach and that little trail of hair leading down below his waistband. But it was the splattering of come covering his skin that caused your toes to curl again. 

📲 Doctor Danny: sleep well, angel. I know I will. 

Smiling a little dopily to yourself you fell asleep clutching your phone to your chest, wishing Spencer was there to hold you. 

***

Monday meant no Criminology class but thankfully Tuesday rolled round fast enough. 

Doctor Reid’s class was your first of the day and you set your alarm hours early to ensure you looked your best. 

You took a long time perfecting your make-up with swooping eyeliner and a dark red lip. Your hair got just as much attention, as did your outfit. 

You settled on a cute sundress, one that barely covered your ass and gave a great view of your cleavage spilling over the top. Your legs were sun kissed from the recent spate of good weather and you knew Spencer wouldn’t be able to take his eyes off them. 

A lot of heads turned when you entered the lecture hall that morning but there was only one you paid any attention to. 

Spencer had been unpacking his satchel on the desk and as though sensing your presence, glanced up as you sashayed in. 

You saw his hands grip the edge of the desk and his jaw clenched momentarily, so brief you barely noticed. 

You watched his eyes graze down from your perfectly painted face, linger on your chest and continue down your bare legs. 

You took your seat in your usual spot, two in from the aisle on the third from last row and kept your eyes on him while you fished your laptop out of your bag. 

You set the laptop slightly off to the side so it wouldn’t obscure Spencer’s view of your chest. 

He felt dizzy. The second you strolled in all the blood had flowed away from his brain and he was rendered completely dumb. 

While the rest of his class filtered in, he sat behind his desk to hide what would be an extremely noticeable erection. 

He focused on the wooden desk and just concentrated on breathing, getting his blood flowing to other parts of his body instead of his cock. 

You were being so unfair. Well, he could play that game too. 

He found his phone in his satchel and located one of the photographs he’d taken last night. He’d planned to send it to you but refrained and he was glad of that now.

He brought up your contact information, the one he’d changed the name of to Delilah to avoid anyone ever finding out who he was really texting. 

He hit send and glanced up at you and waited. 

He saw the exact moment you opened the text. Your face immediately flushed pink and your teeth dug into your bottom lip to stop from making a sound. 

He smiled to himself as he watched you adjust yourself in your seat, pressing your thighs together. 

You closed your eyes a few times feeling that familiar heat flow through you as you stared at the photo. 

You would assume it was taken in a shower but you could only see the lower half of his body. 

His hand was wrapped around his hard dick and his skin was covered in water droplets. Beneath his feet looked to be the porcelain of a shower tub. 

You had to lock your phone before you got too excited and glanced back at him only now he was standing with his back to you as he wrote something on the white board. 

How the fuck were you supposed to concentrate now? 

“Today we’re going to be discussing the four primary perspectives on the sociological theories of crime.” He turned back to face the class but he didn’t look at you again. 

Wise move, Doctor. 

“The four primary perspectives we’ll be covering are structural functionalism, social strain typology, conflict theory and labelling theory. I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but this will be on the final so if there was ever a time to take notes…” 

You let his voice caress you, melting into his dulcet tones. 

You knew all about the four perspectives so you didn’t focus on his words, instead on his changing tone and intonation as he spoke. 

You could still hear his moans and heavy breathing as he came down to the phone the other night. 

You mind wandered, dancing over fantasies of him pulling you up to the front of the class and fucking you over his desk in front of everyone. 

After class while he was occupied talking to a couple of other students, you snuck down to the front and left the brown paper bag on his desk, disappearing before he even had a chance to notice. 

***

The red lipstick mark on the bag was the first sign of who had left it and he stuffed it in his satchel until he was alone in his office at lunchtime. 

He locked his office door because he already knew whatever was inside the paper bag was going to be something for his eyes only. 

The first thing inside the bag was a simple sandwich wrapped in cellophane with a little post it stuck to the top. 

Make sure you remember to eat, Doctor ;) 

Another lipstick mark signed off the note. 

His hand was shaking a little as he reached inside the bag again, this time pulling out the pair of dark purple panties you’d been wearing during your phone escapades the other night. 

Without meaning to, Spencer brought the fabric to his nose and inhaled. He moaned when the smell of your arousal flooded his senses. 

He was hard in an instant, painfully throbbing inside his pants. 

He checked his watch, he had a half hour until his next class and nowhere else to be. 

So with your panties still under his nose, he freed his aching cock and started stroking himself. 

It was sordid, he knew that. You were dragging him into an extremely dangerous game and he felt like a pawn in your own amusement. 

He was going to get you back for this. He was going to regain his control and take back the upper hand. 

Just as soon as he was done masturbating over the smell of you. 

He came over his shirt, cursing himself for wearing black today as the stain was exceedingly noticeable. He’d have to button his jacket all day to hide it. 

He hid the panties away in his satchel and tidied himself up. He consumed the sandwich you’d made him and calmed himself down just in time for his next class. 

***

Spencer knew if the two of you were to have your study session in his office that evening, he would not be able to keep his hands to himself. 

There was no outcome where you’d flounce in here in your slutty little summer dress and he wouldn’t pound you over his desk. 

So he’d text you to meet him at a late night coffee house instead. At least if there were people around you’d both be forced to be on your best behaviours. 

Or so he thought anyway. 

Spencer knew that realistically, he’d already crossed the line. You photographs weren’t exactly innocent but he kept trying to tell himself it was another thing entirely if he actually fucked one of his students. 

He was determined to keep a level head around you, at least until the end of the semester. But once you weren’t his student anymore, the things he planned on doing to you were beyond sinful. 

You arrived late as he expected you to, deliberately keeping him waiting. He’d already ordered you a coffee which you smiled in thanks for as you slid in opposite him. 

“Can’t trust yourself to be alone with me, Doctor?” You leant forward on the table, giving him the perfect view right down the front of your dress. 

“You’re in over your head. I don’t think you can handle being alone with me.” He leant forward too, smirking at you. “I’m not some young, inexperienced college kid you’re used to spending your time with, Y/N. I know exactly how to pleasure a woman until she’s putty in my hands. I would ruin you for anyone else.” 

He watched as you sat back, a shudder passing down your spine. He could tell you would be pressing your thighs together under the table. 

“To be ruined by you, Doctor Reid, would be a fucking pleasure.” You quickly corrected yourself, not letting Spencer beat you at your own game. 

He narrowed his eyes on you before leaning further across the table. 

“Come here.” He curled his finger to motion you towards him. “Sit with me.”

You chewed your lip and took a few shaky breaths before pushing yourself up and rounding the table. 

You slid in next to him and his hand immediately clamped around your thigh. 

“What are the four primary perspectives we talked about in class?” He knew you knew the answer and now he knew you were just playing dumb, he was curious to see how far you would take it. 

His hand on your bare thigh was causing your brain to short circuit. At that moment you didn’t need to play dumb, you were dumb. 

“S-structural fun-functionalism.” You kept your eyes on his, his fingertips lightly grazing your inner thigh. 

“Good girl.” He praised you. 

“S-social strain t-typology.” 

“Very good.” His hand inched ever so slightly higher and you whimpered pathetically. 

You were already soaked and you wondered if it would be possible for him to make you come just touching your leg. 

“Con-conflict theory.” Your cheeks were turning pink.

“That’s it, good girl. One more.” He inched his hand higher still, so close to your core he must be able to feel the heat emanating from you. 

“Labelling t-theory.” 

“See, such a smart girl.” His fingers grazed the outside of your lace panties and it was absurd how close you felt to coming. 

His eyes were dark as he watched you squirm, trying desperately to keep your composure.

The idea of coming here was so he would keep his hands off of you, but clearly that had been a fruitless idea. 

He could feel how wet you were through your underwear and it caused him to grow hard. You were so warm and damp and he wanted nothing more than to dive his fingers beneath the fabric and finger you under the table. 

But he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. 

“Tell me about structural functionalism.” He whispered, fingers still grazing between your legs and you had never wanted someone to touch you more in your entire life. 

“S-structural functionalism argues that dev-deviant behaviour plays a constructive part in s-society as it brings together diff-different parts of the population within society.” 

“Hmmm. So smart. Tell me more.” 

“F-fuck.” You stuttered out a shaky breath. “It’s the t-theory that deviant behaviour can contribute to social stability in the l-long term because it challenges norms while promoting social co-cohesion.” 

“Why am I not surprised you know all about deviant behaviour?” He smirked, pressing his digits right against your clit. 

You had tears gathering in the corners of your eyes and it was killing you not to let your moan rip through you. 

“One would argue,” you swallowed. “You are the one with the pen-penchant for deviant behaviour, D-Doctor.” 

“You’re close aren’t you, angel?” He smirked, ignoring your comment. 

“Yes.” Embarrassingly so. 

“Don’t fight it, sweetheart.” He leant in close to your ear so you could feel his breath fanning across your face. “Why don’t you come for me? My little deviant.” 

You mewled, biting down hard on your lower lip to silence yourself. 

He pressed against your clit again, rubbing you through your panties. The friction from the lace fabric was adding to your arousal and when Spencer placed the softest kiss to your temple, it pushed you over the edge. 

You pressed your thighs together, clamping his hand between your legs and coming silently while he watched you. 

Your chest heaved with your heavy breaths and Spencer felt fucking dizzy. 

“Oh angel, you are so good.” He slowly dragged his fingers back down your thighs and brought his hand to rest on the table. 

You stared at him in complete awe as he sipped his coffee as though nothing had happened. 

Your heart was hammering hard against your rib cage, and your head felt like it was full of cotton wool.

“Everything ok?” He smirked at you around his mug. 

“You’re evil.” You panted a little. 

“You started this game, angel. If you can’t stand the heat…”

“Oh I can stand the heat.” You insisted. “I’m just wondering how many people would notice if I snuck under this table and sucked you off, Doctor.” 

Spencer moaned, louder than was appropriate in the current setting. 

He knew if you actually were to drop to your knees beneath the table he would be powerless to stop you. But he also knew you wouldn’t actually do it because teasing him was far more fun.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Y/N.” 

“It’s only fair of me, right, Doctor? You made me come after all.” 

“The noises you would make choking on my cock would give you away, sweetheart.” He ran his finger over your jaw. “And when you do suck my cock, I want to hear all your pretty little noises loud and clear.” 

You hissed and Spencer smiled to himself, sitting back in his chair.

“Now you’re going to get up and go and sit back opposite me. And we’re going to discuss social strain typology.”

You were dumb to deny him so you did as you were told and stood up, feeling your arousal soaking your panties as you made your way to the other side of the booth. 

“Got a good view there?” You leant on the table and pressed your breasts together. 

“Social strain theory.” He ignored you. “And now we know how smart you can be when there’s pleasure in it for you, don’t you dare sit there and pretend you don’t know.” 

He sipped his coffee, waiting for your response. 

“Social strain theory proposes that deviant behaviour can be classified by typology that’s based on a person's motivations or goals. For example, some people turn to crime for the socially accepted value of seeking to lead a wealthy life. 

Another example would be a straight laced professor using sexual deviance to advance his students learning.”

Spencer chuckled at you, shaking his head. 

“My dear, dear girl.” He placed his mug on the table. “If you think I’m straight laced, you don’t know me at all.” 

“But that’s how you like to come across. In your sweater vests and your sweet doe eyes like butter wouldn’t melt. But really, you’re the biggest deviant of all.” 

His smirk grew, stretching all the way across his face in amusement at your assessment of him. 

“You’d make a good profiler.” He mused. 

“I’d make a great profiler.” You scoffed. 

“Tell me about conflict theory.” He picked up his mug again, turning the conversation back to your learning. 

And you humoured him for a while, letting him think he was in control. 

But it was all a power play. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist -

All ships & genres -

@muffin-cup @/andiebeaword @measure-in-pain @takeyourleap-of-faith @sexy-dumpster-fire @thebloomingeagle

SR x reader -

@frickin-bats @dreatine @adoringanakin @dr-spencerr-reidd @sleepretreat @spenxerslut @sweetandsunny @bellaswanismysoulmate @mcumorningstar @dontcallmekittens @kuolonsyoja @radtwinkie @drayshadow @lytrc @nani-2305 @rainsong01 @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @safespacespence @pastelbabygirl19 @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @people-whatabunchofbastards @justreadingficsdontmindme @/smurphyse

[kuraiangeliusm]

some free time • Kamisato Ayato x reader

tw: overstimulation, breeding, dom ayato, sub afab reader, virgin reader and kinda clueless in some parts, dacryphilia | tell me if i missed anything

notes: dont mind the gif i like it. idk if this was already done so if it was im sorry and idk why i posted this <3 minors dni but if they want to i cant stop them.

btw this isnt proof read

Kamisato Ayato was a busy one. Everyday, his schedule would be packed and you would get needier for him every time he would push you away and ignore you. You just want to have some alone time with him, even if it’s only a few hours. Though, that doesn’t mean he dislikes the idea of spending some time with his precious s/o. After work, he would rush to find you. When he spots you, he acts calm and pretends to not see you.

“Ayato!” You call out. He turns and looks over his shoulder and sees you walking towards him. “Yes, dear? What is it?” He looks at you, a mischievous look spread on his face. Before you could continue, he spoke. “I assume you would like to spend some time with me, am I correct? I have noticed how you looked at me from time to time as you walk past.” You were shocked. How did he know? You thought you were hiding it well, but it seems not. Did the others in the estate notice too. You look at Ayato, your eyes holding many different emotions.

“I-I’m sorry, l thought-“ You blurt out in hopes to make him forget about this. “Don’t apologize dear. Instead, how about you help me out with a little something, hm?” He replied, a small smirk on his face. You stared at him, eyes wide. "...What do you mean? Help you with what?" You questioned the man in front of you. "Follow me, dear." Ayato replied, taking your hand. "May I?" He spoke. You nodded, allowing him to take the lead from here. "Very well then." He brought you to his room.

His room was huge! A bed in the middle, books at the side, an expensive night lamp on top of his bedside table. He walked you to the bed, sitting down on the sheets. Ayato knew that you were a virgin and at first hesitated to ask you to do this. Though after seeing your obedience and reactions to his words, he decided that maybe you could take it. He pushed the thought to the back of his mind and continued.

"Dear, kneel for me, will you?" You looked at him in surprise but obeyed regardless. He ordered you to take off his pants. His dick sprung out, standing up until just over his belly button. Your eyes stared at it, wondering how it reached this size and height. Ayato chuckled at your reaction. "Now, dear. I need you to take care of this for me. Can you do that?" The man asked, his eyes clouded in lust and need. You nodded. "Words, dear." He breathed. "Yes, I can." You whispered.

You lightly kissed the tip and started pumping your right hand up and down slowly, pushing a moan out of him. He looked down on your mouth wrapped around him, groaning at the sensation. "That's it dear, keep going.." He was already getting close. You continued for a while, looking up at him from time to time. Soon enough, ivory strings shot out of him, into your mouth. "Take it all love, don't waste a single drop.." He groaned. After he calmed down from his previous state of euphoria, he looked down on you.

"Stand up my dear." You obeyed and parted from his cock. Ayato slowly guided you to the bed and had you lay down on his sheets. He looked at you for consent. You nodded with excitement. His lips kissed your neck, going down to your stomach, then reaching your inner thighs. The man proceeded to slowly push in a finger, looking at you for any signs of discomfort. Your eyes shut, pleasure taking over your body. Ayato was relieved to see you were comfortable with this.

A few seconds passed by and soon, he moved his finger. He started to move his finger, adding a second and a third soon after. After a while, you came. He licked your juices, looking up at you. Ayato thought you were ready and his tip slowly nudged the entrance of your cunt. He thrusted into you steadily, giving you one inch at a time. He soon had his full length into you and waited for you to adjust.

You gave him the signal and he moved, picking up the pace. You moaned in unison and he continued, enjoying the feeling of your walls wrapping around him. You came once, twice, thrice... you couldn't keep count anymore. "s'too much...please ayato.." You whimpered slowly, a tear slipping out of your eye. Ayato felt something in him when you cried, and it turned him on even more. "Just one more dear, l know you can take it." Another orgasm and he stopped, just like he said. He came, filling you with his seed. He collapsed next to you, and wrapped your figure in his arms.

[fific7]

Into the Darkness / Part 3

The Darkling x Reader

A/N: This does not follow canon, it’s literally just lemon zest 🍋 ... I have a vision of Ben Barnes in his black Kefta and riding boots permanently stuck in my brain right now. Attempting to write it right out of there.

Warnings: 18+ please due to NSFW content. Some dom/sub interaction, being restrained, coercion, questionable consent (thankfully it takes place in a fantasy universe), sexual content including oral, rough unprotected* sex. I don’t mention her actual age, but Reader is not underage.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

[My GIF]

“Moi soverennyi... why have you woken me?”

“Why do you think, little dove?”

You realised that this was to be your life from now on.

His hands pulled you up from your prone position, and you found yourself crushed against his body. You knew this was done on purpose - firstly, so that you knew he was naked and secondly, so that you felt his erection against your thigh as he did so. Which you did. How long had you slept? It was probably longer but you felt as if it was only a few minutes, and yet he already wanted to - what had he called it? - fuck you again? You were still sore from earlier; your throat and between your legs felt rubbed raw.

“Turn around and get on your knees.” His voice sounded harsh for some reason, so you rushed to obey although you wondered at his tone. Maybe he didn’t like appearing needy for you, this would after all be the third time he’d had you in the saints knew how many hours. As you were thinking this, your head was pushed back down into the pillows, meaning you were now balanced on your knees and elbows with your bottom in the air.

A long finger was pushed inside you from behind and you cried out in surprise. Another finger joined it immediately and you yelped again. “Be quiet! You make too much noise, woman.” You felt his thumb moving onto the area he’d concentrated on before, rubbing circles onto it, and once again you felt pleasure rippling through you. His fingers started moving in you; coupled with what his thumb was doing, you couldn’t deny that it was enjoyable. You were breathing very shakily.

Suddenly it all stopped, only to be replaced by his hard length abruptly sliding into you without any warning. You screamed, but he’d anticipated this and had pushed your face right into the pillow, virtually silencing all your cries.

He began thrusting into you, grinding against you without mercy, the fingers of one hand digging into your hips, while the other hand kept your face buried in the pillows. You felt him remove it, “Keep your head down,” he said as he did so. His hand went to your breasts, squeezing, massaging as they hung heavy above the mattress, pulling at your nipples and making you squeal. “Will you be QUIET!” he hissed in your ear.

It felt incessant to you, was he never going to stop? He was loudly grunting this time with the effort of pounding into you. He got to make noise, but you didn’t?

You heard his long-drawn-out groan and felt relief, knowing what it meant. Once again, the warmth spread inside you and he pulled out. You felt his juices running down your legs this time, cooling as they hit the air and your skin. You slowly stretched out your back and leg muscles, and lay down gratefully on the bed. The sheets were sticky, you noticed with distaste. You felt the mattress lift slightly; he’d got up and was heading to the door.

You caught a glimpse of his naked body as he walked across the room - tall and lean but nicely muscled. The door was unlocked and he left the bedroom; you supposed he was going to re-dampen the washcloth. He returned, and sure enough you felt the warm washcloth making its way over you. He’d also brought a second washcloth and was attempting to clean up the sticky areas on the sheets.

Perhaps the action of washing you had sparked something; just as you were relaxing into enjoying it, he put his hands under your knees and pulled them up, opening your legs as he did so. You’d started squirming, feeling very exposed and uncomfortable, when you were dealt a stinging blow onto your right thigh. “Stop moving!” he ordered. Gasping, you looked into his angry face but ended up giving another longer, louder, gasp as he quickly shoved his now-erect-again cock fully into you.

You hadn’t even noticed him getting hard again. How long did it take for this to happen in men, you wondered? There was so much you didn’t know. Then you realised that he’d lifted your legs right up and placed your ankles on his shoulders.

This gave him a whole new angle to thrust into you from; he was making the most of it, his pace so fast and each deep thrust forcing a pained moan from you. You were still very tender, but that didn’t seem to have any impact on Kirigan at all. He was obviously extremely keen to continue his ‘training’ of you to accept him at any time, at any place.

For some reason, this time he didn’t finish inside you, leaning back so that his cock slid out of you, spilling onto his stomach instead. However it soon became clear why, when he told you to clean it all off him. You’d reached for the washcloth but he shook his head at you, so you dropped it back onto the bedside table.

Instead, as he’d intended, you’d used your tongue to lick him clean, meaning that all you could taste was his now-familiar salty/musky tang as you lay under the covers, staring up at the ceiling with him lying beside you.

Listening to his shallow, even breathing, wondering again why you’d ended up in his bed as his only ‘companion’.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You’d eventually fallen asleep, and when you were shaken awake again some time later, you weren’t surprised this time. You looked at him as he leaned over you, and were surprised when he kissed you, tongue easing into your mouth.

He pulled you onto your side, and you felt his cock between your legs. He thrust into you, one hand going to your breast and the other to your thigh, pulling you against him. He moved his fingers to where he disappeared inside you, finding that spot with his thumb and rubbing it over and over, making you jump. His pace was slightly slower this time, his thrusts less punishing. Once he’d released inside you, he continued rubbing at you, massaging your breasts and kissing you until you climaxed. You remembered to thank him as instructed, and he’d stroked your hair as if you were a pet.

This time, as soon as he slid out of you, he more or less fell asleep immediately. It took you longer, as you now had an extremely painful ache between your legs which was difficult to ignore. In the space of a few hours, you’d gone from untouched virgin to having been fucked five times in a row without respite, and it was taking a terrible toll on your body. Your throat still burned, and your hand went between your legs trying to soothe the heat which burned there, and you finally drifted off to sleep.

When you next opened your eyes, it was brighter in the room. He was still fast asleep, but almost as if he’d sensed you were awake, his eyes flickered open. He gazed at you, reaching over and stroking one of your breasts, before rolling your nipple between his fingers. He propped himself up on one elbow, leaning over and letting his tongue lazily run over the nipple and surrounding area, before starting to bite at it. Then he moved to your other breast, beginning the same ritual.

You jumped again as he bit down. “Would it be correct to say that you like my breasts, moi soverennyi?” you asked, staring back at him. “A lot?”

He laughed. “Yes, it would be.” He sat up properly, placing both hands on them and grasping greedily at them. “In fact, I’d go so far as to say I’m obsessed by them. They’re so... full and soft, and a perfect fit for my hands. They’re partly why you are here.”

You sat up a bit. “I’ve been wondering about that... why I’m here, I mean. I did not know you before I was brought to your quarters.”

He toyed with your nipples as he said, “Ah, but I happened to see you in the Camp about a month ago... coming out of your tent in the early morning. In just your trousers and undershirt. You were not aware I was watching you. And I would be lying if I said I didn’t study your body closely in the dawn light, through your thin shirt. Your breasts - what I could see of them - looked perfect that morning. I couldn’t get that vision of you out of my head. And now I have you, in every way. I can touch you, kiss you, fuck you, whatever I want.”

Grabbing one breast again, he kissed your nipple, lapping at it. He looked up at you, grey eyes looking softer than usual. “I’d say that makes me a very lucky man.”

You were silent, absolutely amazed that you’d caught his eye over all the other Grisha women.

He continued, “I’d sent the Oprichniki to bring you here the morning you deserted. I’d decided by then that I needed to make you my companion, only to find that you’d disappeared. But luckily you were in the first place they looked.” He laughed, “You didn’t make it particularly difficult to find you.”

You’d been turning over all he’d just told you in your mind. “You said ‘partly’ why I was here?” you queried.

He nodded, “Yes. I also checked your medical records. You are young, healthy and fertile.”

Your mouth dropped open at the implication.

He said, quite matter-of-factly, hand sliding from your breast to your stomach, “In addition to fulfilling my needs, you’re going to have my child.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You were in his tent at the Camp, several days after his revelation. Things had progressed pretty much as they’d started. He’d schooled you in various other sexual positions, had eaten you out several times, and shown you various other things he liked you to do while you were sucking him off. He’d praised you as a quick learner, and continued to take you pretty much whenever he pleased.

He’d finally noticed how chafed you were, and had brought you a balm from the medics. It had helped a little, although not with your sore and over-used vagina and throat.

There were no shackles now; he knew you wouldn’t jeopardise your family by trying to escape. You were even allowed to venture outside. While you were in his tent, you wore a linen robe or more likely nothing at all. But you’d been given a black Kefta to wear when you did leave the tent, the Grisha woman who’d brought it to you giving you a strange and - possibly jealous? - look.

The black Kefta had confused you and so you’d questioned him about it, about why it wasn’t blue.

“Because you belong to me,” he’d answered shortly. “This proclaims that you’re off limits to other men.”

Now it made sense. You’d seen the stares and side-long looks as you walked through the Camp, had heard the whispers. One thought came to you, so you voiced it.

“Your little Sun Summoner had the same, I hear.”

He laughed, “Are you jealous?”

You vigorously shook your head, “No!”

“She wore it for the Winter Fete, that’s all,” he shrugs. “You get to wear yours all the time. And it’s different to hers. Much more splendid. Everyone now knows who you are.”

You glared at him, “And who am I exactly?”

“My consort.” He began undoing his fly, “Come here and kneel down.”

You knelt in front of him. It had taken very little time for you to learn that he liked you rather than him to free his cock from his trousers before you sucked him off, which is what you did now. He slid it into your mouth, as usual keeping his hand firmly on the back of your head so he was in control of you.

You’d also quickly learnt to make almost no noise, as you were no longer servicing him in private.

He moved back from you after a few minutes, leaving your mouth unexpectedly empty. However you’d noticed that in the past couple of days, blow jobs now usually ended in sex. He moved to the large chair in the corner of the tent, sat down and beckoned you over to him.

You went to him and he gestured to his lap. You obediently straddled him, taking his cock inside you as you did so. Moving on him, you saw his head going back, his eyes closing, jaw clenching and hands groping your breasts. He came fairly quickly, no doubt due to the partial blow job, and you slid off him, walking to the other side of the tent to pour a basin of warm water from the large metal jug sitting on a low flame, and a washcloth.

You ran the cloth over him, tucking him back into his uniform trousers before seeing to yourself. As you stood to take the basin away, he caught your wrist, looking intensely at you.

“You’ve learnt well, in a very short space of time. You’re being a very good girl.”

“I thought I was a woman?” you snarked, and he laughed, “Fine...woman, then.” He ran his thumb over the skin of your wrist, “You’ve been taking my cock so well, and you like it rough now, don’t you?”

You nodded dutifully, “Yes, moi soverennyi.” In fact, you didn’t particularly, but you had to keep this dangerous man happy.

“When is your monthly cycle due?” he suddenly asked you. Blushing deeply - this was not something you usually discussed with men - you answered, “About 10 days’ time.” “Make sure to keep track,” he instructed you, “it shouldn’t take long for you to get with child.”

You could believe it. Since you’d been brought to him, he’d been on you constantly. You felt as if you were permanently hobbling around; in addition to oral sex, he usually fucked you three or four times a day, which, according to more gossip you’d heard in the past, was not usual except maybe between newlyweds on their honeymoon. Which you & he definitely were not.

But you’d surprised yourself by having some kind of feelings for him. You were in fact jealous of his ‘little Sun Summoner’ as you called her, although he’d confided to you that they’d never had sex. He also told you that while he had felt a connection with her, she’d ruined that when she’d run off and disappeared from his life.

You’d asked him what he’d do if she returned, and he’d shrugged, “Nothing. She is dead to me.” But you wondered if that was true, or if you’d be cast aside for her.

You seemed to have accepted that you’d be with him for a lot longer than you’d initially expected. Especially if you did become pregnant. He had become more tender with you lately, kissing you when you least expected it or running his fingers down your cheek. One morning, you’d awoken to find him gazing at you and stroking some strands of hair off your face.

But he could still be arrogant, harsh and demanding, meaning that you did your best to keep him pleasured. He would still take you without warning; he’d once shoved you up against the wall of an empty corridor in the Little Palace, undoing your trousers, moving your underwear aside and pushing inside you right then and there. He’d been thrusting into you like a madman, and as usual you felt like it went on forever. You were petrified that someone would see or hear the two of you, in fact you still weren’t sure they hadn’t. But you’d acquiesced as always, and let him have his way with you.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Ten days later, he asked if your period had started. You confirmed that it had, that morning. “Well, we shall have to try even harder, shall we not?” Inwardly, you groaned. You definitely wouldn’t be able to walk if that was the case.

He didn’t leave you alone even for those few days, just carried on fucking you when the notion took him. His stamina was quite impressive. He’d even left a strategy meeting he was attending a mere half hour after he’d had sex with you, spent 10 minutes rutting on you, before fixing his slightly dishevelled uniform and returning to his meeting.

He’d also had you brought over to the large tent where he and his senior men held these meetings. One of his men took you to a side entrance which led to a little area screened off from the main space, containing a plain table and chair.

He’d arrived a few moments later, striding over and bending you over the desk, putting his hand over your mouth and pushing roughly inside you from behind, grunting quietly and thrusting into you for some time. His mouth was next to your ear, and he gave his signature long low moan as he came. Then he was gone without one word spoken, before you could even stand up and turn round.

A few minutes later, the same Oprichnik who’d brought you over to the tent arrived, smirking, to take you back. His eyes had run over your body quite blatantly and when you arrived at your tent, you’d said, “Thank you. I’ll be sure to tell General Kirigan how interested you were in my well-being.” The smirk and roving eyes were instantly replaced with fear, and he hurried away from you.

You couldn’t deny Kirigan made it plain that he found you totally desirable, which understandably did wonders for your self-confidence.

However, this back-fired on you. You were now on nodding terms with Ivan, Kirigan’s second-in-command. He was another dangerous man, who you also wished to stay on the right side of. One evening, you were sipping at a small glass of kvas when Ivan came into the tent. He was looking for his commanding officer, who was in one of his interminable meetings.

You asked if he wished to wait for him, as he shouldn’t be long in returning. He accepted and also took a glass of kvas with you, growing more conversational as the time passed. He regaled you with tales of some of his & Kirigan’s exploits, and you’d been laughing at one he’d just told you when the Darkling came striding into the tent. Ivan leapt to his feet and stood at attention.

As he took in the scene before him, Kirigan scowled ferociously at both of you, barking out, “What’s this! I leave for an hour, and you’re sniffing and drooling round my woman like a dog in heat, Ivan?”

Ivan’s face reddened, and he shuffled his feet guiltily. Like most of the men, he found you very attractive. They all knew that Kirigan was fucking you, and he had in fact been thinking what a lucky bastard he was when the man himself had arrived.

“No, moi soverennyi! I assure you... I was waiting for you and I merely spoke of some of our past campaigns.” Kirigan sneered, “Which caused her to laugh? Is what we did so amusing?”

His glare turned to you, “Is it?!” You shook your head, “No... well, it was just Ivan mentioned that you happened to rip your trousers once when you...” but you stopped talking when you saw the expression on his face.

Ivan hastily took his leave, saying he would update him in the morning instead.

The Darkling looked at you with icy eyes. He took off his Kefta and threw it onto one of the chairs, and began unbuckling his trousers. “Take your clothes off, and get on the bed.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

[deadinside-butstill-horny]

The Night We Met

Part Three - Most Of You

Pairing: Javier Peña/ Female Murphy!Reader

Words: 10k - Word count got away from me.

Summary: We learn a little about Y/N’s past. Tequila is involved and inhibitions lowered. 

Content Warnings: Mentions of death, themes of PTSD,18+ SMUT warning, oral, fingering, dirty talk, penetrative sex. Lots and lots of consent, cause consent is sexy and you know our boy Javi is nothing if not respectful.

MASTERLIST

AO3

Author Note: I really enjoyed writing this. It’s absolutely just porn with minor plot but I have no regrets.

Got the gif from this photo set during the week because THAT’S THE SMILE I’M ON ABOUT. That cute as fuck half smile; it melts my heart. 

Part One   -  Part Two 

It just so happened that when Javier decided to stop trying to seduce you, the two of you could actually be around one another and have a good time. Well, not quite as good as that night. But in the grand scheme of things; good-ish. 

After the debauchery that had occurred outside of the church the two of you had ceremonially agreed to a ceasefire on all hostilities with your second meeting. You were equal parts surprised and disappointed that Javier had been on his best behaviour, the two of you had successfully bought the ingredients and were currently producing what was sure to be a decent breakfast without either of you ending up naked. 

He was the picture of domesticity as he sat on the counter top with a beer in his hand at 8:15am as you whisked some eggs in a bowl using a fork, you paused for a moment, taking a sip of your own beverage, then resuming your task as you threw the eggs into the too hot pan making them sizzle on the skillet. 

"No, no, no, no." Javier cried and pushed himself off of the counter as he tutted, coming to your side and placing his hand on the curve of your waist to move you out of his way. His hand slithers forward and lingers a second on your own fingers before he takes the spatula and puts space between the two of you to manage the task at hand. 

For a moment, you're perplexed. The movement itself wasn't particularly invasive or breaking from the gentlemanly persona he had adopted in the last two hours, but rather it was an act of, well, familiarity. Which reason dictates simply shouldn’t exist between the two of you. 

You had known each other for a grand total of 48 hours and that was being generous as you had been comatosed for easily 15 of those. He had a bad habit of popping up when you least expected it and disarming you with an easy smile. 

You didn’t like how he made you feel. Everything you said, you measured his reaction, a pull of his lip, a flash of his teeth or a narrow of his brow; these were his tells, well his obvious ones. 

You tried desperately to convince yourself that this was platonic analysis. It would seem you could kid Javier but you couldn’t trick yourself. You felt things for the man that you really shouldn’t after knowing him for two days. You were frustrated with the situation, he’d slept with another woman hours after your encounter. You were jealous, sure, but not betrayed.  

It was a matter of pride, that evening had somewhat extinguished the fire for the bronzed man who was currently trying to save the eggs you’d flash fried. What you were experiencing were embers. Yes, embers. The fire hadn’t completely been doused and all you had was a residual heat. A deep glowing burning heat, sure. But eventually reality would be sure to dump some more water on this fire and you wouldn’t feel this lingering need for the man, right?

“¡Espero que te gusten los huevos calientes!” Javier hollered over the sizzling with a smirk on his face as he scraped at the pan with the instrument he’d stolen from you. 

“Eggs and Hot? That’s all I got!” You question a smile warming your face, apparently his enthusiasm was contagious. 

He chuckled at your words and nodded, “Tu español no es tan malo linda dama!”

“I got nothin’ besides español,'' you shrug. Javier let out another snicker, he seemed to laugh a lot but he was missing the soft wrinkles bracketing his mustache which made you think that maybe this wasn’t his natural state. There was a light silence whilst he sliced the loaf of bread you’d picked from the store. As you were setting the table your book caught your eye from its place on the coffee table and you couldn’t resist trying out some of your newly learnt infant level language. 

“Hola Javier, mi nombre es Y/N. Mi color favorito es el Y/F/C.¡Me gustan los perros!” 

(My name is Y/N, My Favourite colour is Y/F/C. I like dogs!)

Javier turned around his expression; a picture of incredulousness. His eyebrows met in the middle of his forehead, his mustache almost touching his nose as you got a view of his brilliant white teeth in a genuine honest to god grin. If you had a camera, you’d have captured that moment.

“I’ll have to be careful around you, huh, sunshine? These new Spanish skills of yours could get me into trouble.”

“Bailar es divertido!” You exclaim using the only Spanish phrase you know.

“What?...Dancing is fun?... Where the hell did you learn this stuff?”

“Español … para... niños”

“Española para niñas” Javier corrected helpful “Unless you’ve got something you need to tell me...” 

“Damn! The masculine and feminine, they briefly touched upon the theory in Spanish for Kids. It wasn’t as in depth as you might think though.” You joke with a huff. “Hey, do you know where I can get a better translating book?”

“Learning Spanish, huh? How long are you plannin’ on staying exactly?” You jump at the addition of a third voice, Steve appears looking thoroughly rested with his voice two octaves lower than it should be.

“Well ya’ know Stevie, it’s pretty ignorant to not learn a little of the language of the country you’re in.”

“You didn’t answer the question.” Steve points out, you’d hoped he would give in and let it go considering Javier was here. Though seeing as he greeted his partner whilst grabbing a cup of coffee before turning expectantly towards yourself, your chances of skirting around the subject seemed slim. 

“I don’t have any commitments at home, not like I got the hospital waiting for me to come back. So... I’mma stay… ya know … live a little!”

“Gillian? She’s not waiting for you?”

“Nah, I quit.”

“You quit?! It took you fuckin’ ages to get that job.”

“Stevie, If I have to clean up puke in a fucking grocery store once more. I honestly don't think I can take it- don’t look at me like that. Three times is three times too many!” 

“You’re fuckin’ out of your mind. This isn’t a holiday.”

“No, but I need some change, you clearly need to get your ass kicked back in line. We both win! If you help me get a job it’ll be great… I can practically speak Spanish already....” 

“I dispute that.” Javier piped up.

“Shut up.” You say as you throw the tea towel at him. “Look Stevie. Everything’s fine. You were fine with Connie and Olivia being here. I’m a grown ass woman.” There was silence as Javier continued moving around the kitchen, only this lull was a little heavier, you chalk it up to you being the youngest and the only girl in a family with three brothers. God knows they’d been benching you your entire life. 

“Fine.” Steve huffed and sat down at the table as you and Javier served up. The man in question gave you a conspiratorial wink as you passed one another. Nothing more was said on the matter as you tucked into breakfast. Infact, pleasant conversation was kept up all through the meal until it came time for Javier and Steve to go.

“We gotta get into the embassy. Heard rumours the new boss starts soon and we need to get our ducks in a row.” Steve nodded to Javier's words. “You ready to get back in the ring?”

“Been ready for the past two weeks, man. This leave of absence was bullshit”

Steve grabs his coat as you watch expectantly, waiting for your invite to the boys club, that inevitably doesn’t come. Instead you receive a much more in character; “Stay in the apartment, for god sakes Y/N. Just for today. I’ve left my number on the pad if you need me.”

You nod noncommittally and combined with a shrug the action hits its mark as Steve sighs.

“This isn’t funny. Bogotá isn’t safe for you.” You repeat your action, this time without the shrug. He huffs but carries on out of the door, he must have realised that was as much as an acquiescence as he was going to recieve, Javier follows him but stops on the threshold. 

“Te encontraré ese libro, Guapa.” He calls out before closing the door behind him.

“no hablo español, motherfucker!” You shout after him, you vaguely hear his warm chortle as he descends down the stairs. With your legs propped up on the chair in front of you, you huff and look around the room.  The absolute assholes had left you with the washing up. Yeah, feminism was definitely taking a hit during your time in Colombia. 

Apparently the agents hadn’t got the memo about the change in gender roles, you cursed their names as you turned on the radio to some latin music and began the arduous process of cleaning the entire kitchen, including the appliances and counters you hadn’t even used. 

You then moved onto the lounge, hey, if you were going to play the role of housewife, you were going to at least be a good one. You hoovered, reorganised and dusted your ass off for at least three-ish hours before you got bored, abandoning your work for snooping, you were only human after all.  

First you looked in the medicine cabinet and found nothing good, I mean, you don’t know what crazy drugs you were expecting your brother, the DEA agent, to have in his possession but you were crestfallen with the dull discovery of a spare toothpaste, American xanax and ‘aspirina bebé’.

With a lamentful sigh you took your sleuthing into the bedroom, pulling his bedside drawer open with a hesitant hand. You don’t know what dark sexual preferences your brother and Connie may or may not have and you didn’t want to risk permanent scarring. As you open it fully you glance inside remaining tentative, your eyes first fall on the badge left behind. He must have forgotten it. You take it out and place it on the bed beside you as you continue to investigate.

Your hands find a wad of folded yellow notepad paper, the jagged edges have been ripped from the main pad in frustration. Unfolding the wad, you do a once over of the sheet in front of you. The words ‘Dear Connie,’ make you halt in your sted.  Finding a gimp mask or weed was funny, this however crossed a line. So you placed the notes back where you found them, you turned to grab the badge and place it back on top of the pile but as the light shone on the metal an idea sprung to mind.

To say you were famed for your impulse control issues was an understatement. You often acted first with no regard for the consequences, hence your presence in Colombia and your extensive shoe collection. But as you drove your brother's Jeep through the streets of Bogotá, you realised that you may finally push Steve over the edge. Already in too deep you took the final turn, following the map you had spread out on the passenger side and were greeted with the American flag. Eureka. You had taken an embarrassing amount of wrong turns but had finally arrived.

You pulled up to the barrier and smiled at the Colombian guard donned in a dark green uniform. 

“Hola, Agent Murphy DEA asked me to drop off his badge.” You wiggle the object of your deceit in his eye line. 

“Identification?” The guard asked in heavily accented English.  You shut off the car's engine as you turn to your purse and pull your driver's license out and hand it over. He inspects the plastic, looking between you and the ID before nodding and handing it back to you, definitely not a social butterfly.  He then waved to the gentleman controlling the barrier, allowing you access.  

“DEA office is to the right. Personnel only.”

“I’ll be in and out, quick as a flash.” You reassuringly smile at the man and receive only a stony glare in return. Deciding to stop pushing the apparently limitless bounds of your dumb luck you pull through the barrier and into the car park on the right. You park up in what you hope is an unreserved space and hop out of the tall vehicle.

“Right, what's the plan again?” you mumble to yourself as you pause for a second, before starting towards the cream building and hopping up the stairs. You cling to the badge like a life raft, terrified you’ll be stopped as the imposter sight-seerer you are. Now in your defence, you knew this was dumb. Steve had an important job and distracting him wasn’t helpful in the least, but you couldn’t help yourself. Stay inside- like that was ever going to happen.

So you scoured the offices of the embassy for about fifteen minutes before you decided to break and ask for help, finally stopping an american looking woman with large stylish shoulder pads and even bigger hair. 

“I’m looking for the DEA office? Steve Murphy, Javier Peña?”  She seemed to bristle at the mention of the latter.

“Take that elevator to the third floor and it's the third door on the left, but watch out for Peña, he’s a real- '' She cut herself off with a huff, before nodding your way and walking off.

No shit, sister. 

Following the potentially scorned woman's instructions you found yourself in the DEA Bogotá headquarters; only Steve and Javier were nowhere to be seen.  

Fuck.

You looked around the room taking a slight step back getting ready to turn on your heel as an older white haired man entered the room. 

“Hey Newbie, I need two copies of each of these and I need these faxed to the team in Medellín.”

“Uh-”

“I needed them there yesterday, so get to it.” He dumps the two huge piles of files into your arms as you stare at him bemused. Looking back you still don’t know why you didn’t say anything, but you rolled up your sleeves and whipped out that can-do attitude and got to work, at what was apparently your new guerilla admin job. And that is how Javier and Steve found you two hours later, fighting with a fax machine and on the phone to the office in Medellín.

“No- I understand how the machine works… Yes… Yes I’ve turned it off and on, I think the problems on your side… No I don’t- Well Weaver needed the case file there yesterday so you need to figure something out! Yes… Yes I’ll hold. “ You turned when you heard steps behind you, pressing the receiver between your head and your shoulder and holding the fax machine manual. 

“Hey Guys!” You say cheerily, pretending like this was completely normal, like you hadn’t just dropped into Steve’s life and then surprised him every step of the way. 

“What in the hell are you-” Steve started, however the woman on the other side of the phone decided to pick up, you held up one finger to the two of them as a pause. 

“Oh, Hey Salome, It’s no problem… that’s great, I'll give it a try.” You drop the manual and press the green button on the fax machine, the machine begins making the whizzing sound you’d been chasing for the past twenty minutes. “Sounds all good on my end. Right, that's great I’ll send the rest across now. Thanks, have a nice day!”

“Am I high, right now? What the fuck is going on?” Steve’s tone matched his face with the disbelief painted upon it.  He had taken a seat at the desk which just so happened to be next to the fax machine and copier. Javier sat at his own in front of the typewriter with a smirk on his face lighting up a cigarette.

“Uh, well... I came to give you your badge cause’ you forgot it at home and then Weaver asked me to do some copies. Turns out that security here is pretty lax, cause’ I’ve been copying and faxing classified case files for the past two hours and no one seems to know or care that I don’t work here.” Steve’s eye all but twitched as he rubbed at his face. He reached into his bottom drawer and pulled out a bottle of whiskey and began pouring himself a glass.

“Fine.” He actually shrugged after downing the drink in one. Damn, You weren’t sure which had broken him, yourself or Colombia. “Better you’re here where I can keep tabs on you...Javi, can we get her an actual job?”

“I’ll run it by Messina,” Javier shrugged as he stood from behind his desk. “Probably best not to mention the perusal of classified cases though.”

So that’s how the three of you ended up at dinner celebrating your new job four days later, you were officially an office administrator for the DEA in Colombia, heading to the CNP base of operations in Medellín alongside your brother and his partner as their administrator, well, from what you understood, you were their dogsbody.  Your Spanish speaking ability had been greatly exaggerated but you were undeniably overqualified for the position, so, pending a background check you were through doors. 

Your interview with Steve and Javi’s boss; Messina, had been nerve wracking and your Murphy name had won you no favours. 

You’d given it your best and from what you could see you’d managed to convince her you were worth your salt. 

Yep, you’d proved yourself totally capable and more importantly, completely willing to move around 8 hours away to Medellín to live on an army base where a drug cartel was incredibly active. According to Javi this had apparently made you a very appealing hire to the DEA.  As such you were being sent along with the boys to help out on the front line, well, as close to the front line as an admin/dogsbody gets.

The three of your glasses clinked in unison, before you drained your shot with a regretful gasp, Tequila was the devil. 

“Thank you to Javi, for not only saving my sister from her stupidity once, but twice… or is it three times now?!” Steve lifted his second shot as he gave his heartfelt speech. Picking up the lime you’d just sucked the juice out of you launched it at him, missing by some margin. He let out what could only be described as a snigger as both him and Javi threw their second shots back.

If you were completely honest with yourself, you were wasted. 

The three of you had enjoyed a meal and many, many subsequent drinks. Knowing full well the two men had a distinct advantage of having had at least a year to pickle their livers in whiskey from the stress of this place, you had insisted that for every two drinks they had, you had one. . 

Still, six drinks in with no sign of stopping you felt better than you really had any right to. The room had yet to start spinning and for those small mercies, you were thankful.

“Nah, Thankyou to you both! I’ve heard Medellín is lovely this time of year!”

“Well, you won’t know. You’ll be spending all of your time on base, where it’s safe.”

“Steve-”

“Non-negotiable. You wanna come to Medellín, fine. But you do what I say, and no Y/N’s day out like in Bogotá.” 

“Dude, you’re such a buzz-kill!”

“Dude? What are you 15?!” Javier jokes with a cigarette between his lips. You’d been here only a week and yet he’d managed to navigate how to defuse an impending Murphy fight from a mile away.

“You should’a seen her at 15. Those teeth!”

“Ya’ got any pictures?” Javi asks, half distracted with flagging down the waitress and showing her five fingers.

“Really Steve, you wanna go there? After the earring incident?” Javier turns his full attention on you. 

“Murphy had an earring?”

“No-” Steve tries to interrupt.

“Yep, a nice little hoop.”

“I didn’t…”

“It got caught on his windbreaker and he ripped it out of his ear, it got infected.”

“Wind breaker?” Javier was biting his lip and staring at your brother, not really trying so hard to contain his laughter.

“Can’t think why I didn’t want you around, Sis. Look- I was trying something out; It didn’t work, so I moved on.” You wait a beat, allowing Javier to take in the information before you helpfully and without prompt drop a nugget of information for the Hispanic man.

“... He had to go to hospital.” A chortle burst unintentionally from Javier’s chest as your comment caught him by surprise. 

“Y/N!” Steve burst out in frustration, making you cackle with glee.

“Okay, Okay.” You hold your hands in mock surrender as the waitress drops another round of drinks on the table.

“Let’s head over to the discotheque, live music- no Sicario’s. Big with Bogotá policia so very safe.” Javier pitched like he was speaking to a child as he tried to convince Steve. He knew you were in from the excitement that lit up your form.

“I don’t know, dancing-”

“Would be good for you! Come on Steve, this place is closing soon anyway-” You counter, only to be cut off as he frantically looks at his watch. 

“What time is it- I promised I’d phone Con tonight- FUCK!” He stood quickly grabbing the table to steady himself and ran to the phone box just outside of the bar, you could just about see him from where you sat in the window booth besides Javi.

The two of you looked at one another for a moment, you weren’t quite at the level where conversation came easy, but you weren’t uncomfortable by any means.

“Thanks for talking to Messina for me… honestly. You’ve done so much for me since I got here.”

“Like I said, it’s no problem, guapa.” He smiles at you, not a smirk for once but a delighted easy smile that rarely graces his face. “I saw your CV.”

“Oh.” The smile drops off of your face, his eyes analyse your reaction, the easy smile replaced by a sombre expression. 

“Yeah, Oh. You were a doctor, a surgeon? I thought you mopped up vomit in a grocery store in Miami?”

“It’s complicated.” You gave him no further explanation, you expected him to move on, except Javier wasn’t like other people, he didn’t make things easy. He stared at you expectantly with those deep brown questioning eyes.  “Christ, okay. Yes I was in my final year of residency, not quite a surgeon.”

“How does that happen?”

“How does what happen?” You question, you know you’re being difficult but this isn’t something you’ve talked about with Steve, for Godsakes. He did that trick once more, hitting you with those soul-full eyes. 

Honestly, it was lucky you weren’t working for Escobar, forget waterboarding, all Javi would have to do was look at you to get you to give up your darkest secrets. “Things didn’t go my way, I wasn’t happy there. The hours were long and that shit was heavy.” 

He didn’t seem satisfied with your answer but he didn’t push any further, finally respecting your reluctance, he nodded. Stubbing out his cigarette and tilting his head towards the shots he asked “...Another?” 

“Why not?” You reply hesitantly.

Taking the salt you go to shake it onto the back of your hand when a tanned one stops your movement in its wake.

“No, no, no. Let’s do it a little different.” His eyes shot up to where your brother was leaning against the phone booth before he took your hand in his. Adjusting his grip he lifts your wrist to his mouth. Your heart is beating in your ears as you watch as his pink tongue pokes out and laps one, twice at your pulse point. A long line of saliva is left on your wrist as he shakes the salt over it. His eyes meet yours for a moment, as if asking permission. 

You don’t know how you even instruct your brain to nod, but regardless you carry out the action. Javi brings his mouth to your wrist once more in one solid stroke of his talented tongue, your eyes clamp closed as he finishes swiping up the salt before draining both the tequila and lime.

You’re breathing heavy as you open your eyes, to find those mahogany ones laser focused on you.

“You missed a step.” You mumble, your eyes never leaving his as you hold the lime up to his mouth, rind first. His teeth close over it and his lips just barely graze your fingertips. You turn to check on Steve, thankfully your brother has his back to the two of you, deep in conversation with Connie. Probably for the best, given your plan.

You turn sideways to face Javi, lifting one of your legs up onto the booth and bending it at the knee to get a vantage point. The alcohol coursing in your veins gives you the courage as one  hand wraps around his neck and the other his shoulder, you lean forwards to give one long solitary lick up his neck, right on the pulse. You taste his sweat stained skin, salty and warm on your tongue. 

Reaching for the shaker, you apply it liberally, smiling as you drop some of it down his t-shirt. Though from the stare he seemingly refused to remove from you, you don’t think he much cared.  Once you considered your job done, you turned back and pushed his head to the side and began licking the salt from his neck, this time you tortured him with three small cat licks along the flesh, you felt his neck tense as his hand moved from its place on the pleather booth and wrapped around your thigh. 

You reached back to the table and sank your shot. Wincing you turned back to Javier, leaning forward to grab the lime from his mouth. As you did so, he dropped it purposefully, staring directly into your eyes, a clear challenge, before he grabbed the back of your head and pulled you forward locking your lips in a devastating kiss. He tasted of lime, tequila and just Javier; that unexplainable component which was both sweet and smoky. His tongue plundered the depths of your mouth, seemingly uncaring of your brother who was mere metres away. Your hands roved his chest before locking in the short hair on the nape of his neck. 

Unexpectedly it was Javi who broke the kiss. The two of you paused with your foreheads meeting, much like the night you met.  He seemed to be trying to regain control.

“Meet me in the bathroom?” You whisper, rubbing your nose against his beautifully angular hooked one. He breathed out heavily through his nose, his eyes opening and pushing you away by your shoulders.

“No, I’m not gonna fuck you in the fucking bathrooms of a filthy fucking bar- are you crazy?” Behind his eyes a rage and arousal battled, apparently you had rattled him with your question, he reached forward for his whiskey, and took a sip whilst shaking his head and trying to centre himself. “I’m giving you whiplash? Yeah that’s real cute. You change what you want every single fuckin’ day, then look at me like I’m a dick.”

You supposed he had a point, after all you had been the one to ask for the redo and then stared at him longingly every day since. “It’s not an easy situation to navigate, ok? I came here for Steve-”

“You didn’t come here for Steve.” He uttered under his breath, staring straight ahead with his elbow perched on the table and holding the glass to his mouth.

“Excuse me?”

“You didn’t come here for Steve, not completely. You came here for you.”

“That’s not-” Javier turns to you, locking you down with his gaze. It was easy to forget he was a cop; observative and attentive to a fault, he could call your bullshit from a mile away. 

“Everything you’ve done since you got here, that’s not for him. You’re desperate for some life back in those veins. You don’t just give up being a fuckin’ surgeon and feel fulfilled with your position at a fuckin’ grocery store, Sunshine.”

“Wow, you’ve got me pegged, huh? No wonder they’ve got you after Escobar, best detective on the fucking case.” You roll your eyes refusing to look at him, sipping a beer as a way of hiding how he’s unnerved you. Everything he’s saying true and you’re ashamed of yourself.

“You don’t come down to the embassy if you’re trying to make your brother's life easier. I’m not criticizing Guapa, but how about cutting the bullshit messiah complex.”

You’re embarrassed and trying to look anywhere but him. His hand reaches for your own as Steve rounds the corner, the tanned fingers instead lock around the shot glass in front of you. 

“So, what’d I miss?”  Your voice is lodged in your throat, you don’t think you could speak even if you could think of the words you wanted to use. Javi answers in some nondescript way you don’t even really listen to before ordering another round of drinks.

“Y/N/N, You alright?” Steve asked, ever the concerned brother.

(your nickname)

“Yeah, Javi- uh, he saw my cv.” It wasn’t a complete lie but you still feel bad for using past trauma to make your brother skirt around the issue in the way you knew he would.

“Oh, Uh… Drink?” Steve stared at you, uneasy. 

“Yeah, a drink would be great.” Your voice is monotone to even your ears, you reach forward and down the beer in front of you, desperate for this awkwardness to be over and the feeling in the pit of your stomach to vanish. You’re happy to say after around ten minutes of the two men holding up the conversation, it atleast eases slightly.

There’s a lull as you all wait drinks arrive and you have managed to regain your basic motor skills. This is the selfishness Javi is talking about. Steve needs a good night, without feeling crappy about his damaged sister stealing the lime-light. So putting your best foot forward you look across to Javi and smile.

“So, how was Connie?”

“She’s good! She’s enjoying getting back to work, her sister’s having Liv during the day.” Guilt swells in your stomach once again. You should be there making Connie’s life easier, but instead you abandoned her to play the hero in Colombia. The shame spiral is slowly clawing at your stomach, as you force yourself to take a deep breath. 

“That’s good…” You’re saved by the bell, or rather the waitress bringing over the tray of beverages. Taking your beer first, you reach across and controversially take two of the shots. Both men chuckle at your bravado as Javi asks the woman for an extra shot.

The night continued on much like that, minus the regret whirlwind as the tequila seemed to help get rid of any real self reflection. The three of you didn’t even make it to the discotheque, as by the time the bar closed, the three of you began the short walk home, you were carrying the large box of pizza that you had insisted on ordering.

Surprisingly, Steve was the drunkest of your trio. His phone call with Connie had sent him into his own spiral. He began drinking tequila like it was water, to the point Javier had thrown in the towel, deciding he’d much rather like to live to see tomorrow. So with your pizza in one arm and your other wrapped around your brother's waist, you and Javi half carried Steve home and up the stairs into the apartment. 

The two of you unceremoniously dumped him on his bed, carefully you placed the pizza box you had cradled to your breast on the chest of drawers before you stepped forward past Javier. 

You pulled Steves boots off of his feet and pulled his legs up onto his bed, taking his belongings out his pockets; yes, including his gun, you placed them on the bedside table. You then placed a glass of water and an aspirin next to them, feeling sympathy for his head tomorrow morning. 

Happy that your job was done, you shut the light off and went into the living room, once again cradling the pizza. Javier was slouched on the sofa/your bed flicking through your Spanish introduction book, as you entered the room he threw it back on the table and pointed at the empty whiskey bottle on the coffee table.

“Got any more?”

“Think, that was his last one…” you shrug.

“Come down to mine for a drink? I don’t like how we left things.”

“No more talking?” Javier looks at you reproachfully, scanning your body as if the direct proposition you’d accidentally given him was the last thing he expected. “Uh- I mean- no more hard questions and no more...touching.”

“Alright.” He nods, pushing himself up with a sigh. “But if there’s no more touching, I get half of that pizza Sunshine.”

You nod and smile, following him down the stairs to his apartment. As you cross the threshold emboldened by tequila, you don’t dwell on your self destructive tendencies as Javier’s recent comments would’ve made you if you were sober. 

You’re tired and all you want is a drink of whiskey, some pizza and for Javier to give you that smile, the one that makes the side of his mustache raises and reveals the pearly white of his teeth. Dropping the pizza down on the coffee table you make yourself at home, sitting very deliberately on the couch he hadn’t screwed someone else on. If he notices, Javi didn’t say anything. 

He hurried over, cigarette balanced in between his lips as both hands were taken up. One holding two glasses and the other cradling the whiskey. He sits himself down with considerably more grace than you had, on the other sofa. You reach down the side of the sofa where you spy the remote peeking out from beneath the leather cushion and begin skimming through the channels until you find the telenovelas you'd unironically begun watching since arriving in Colombia.

Opening the box of Pizza, you take a slice and begin devouring the meal. It’s not quite like pizza as you know it, but it's tasty and full of carbs to soak up the alcohol so you can’t find a fault with it.  The two of you eat in silence for around half an hour.

It seemed neither of you were eager to break the silence after the daunting conversation from earlier. It’s as you’re taking your first sip of whiskey watching two women argue in Spanish on the television you decide to speak.

“I figure I owe you some answers.”

“You don’t owe me shit, Sunshine.” He’s leaning back in his seat, whiskey balancing on his knee and a fresh smoke in his hand.  “Sure I’m intrigued, but I'll figure you out in the end. Miami’s own angel of death?”

You chuckle at how close to the mark he is as he makes a shot in the dark. “I’m gonna need a refill if we’re gonna talk about our feelings…”

“Feelings… woah, woah, woah. I didn’t sign up for that.” He has a brazen smirk on his face, as he takes the now empty glass from your palm and fills it up. You down a second and he repeats the task.

“I killed a kid,” You wheeze as you wince from the burn turning your head towards the television and nursing the now full whiskey glass between your hands. “You asked why I gave up becoming a surgeon. I... I was the lead resident on a fuckin’ appendectomy. I could do that shit in my sleep. I perfed the abdominal wall as I was geting ready to close him up; a tiny fucking knick. There were no bleeders and his vitals remained normal, didn’t even notice I’d done it.  It was as they were taking him back to the ward, he just crashed.”  

You finish another glass and as your eyes water, you pretend it's the burn of the alcohol. You breathe heavy, your upper lip quivering. You’ve heard of the sensation but never felt it. 

“I froze. I opened him up in the lift, by the time I got back in there, he’d bled out. A twelve year old; Justin Miller. Just a fucking kid.” Javi doesn’t try to interrupt or make you feel better, which honestly made the whole thing easier. 

“His mom sued the shit out of me and the hospital, can’t say I blame her. I took a sabbatical and when it was time to go back, I couldn’t. Couldn’t go into the OR without having a fuckin’ panic attack.” You hadn’t met Javi’s eyes for the entirety of the one-sided conversation, scared that when you looked up you’d no longer find those treacle eyes filled with warmth. 

Silence fills the air for a devastating second whilst Javier digests your words.

“You fucked up.” He mumbled finally,  your eyes shot up to his own and within the pools of chocolate you found his usual warmth, though his customary jovial expression was suddenly somber. Such an expression looked strange on the gentle man you’d come to know, but you knew it was far from out of place. “In our line of work, you mess up; someone dies. It’s not fair or easy, just is what it is.”

You don’t have a word for the noise you make, somewhere between a scoff and a gasp. You chuckle as his response to years of complex trauma you’ve never recovered from is boiled down to five simple words.

“It is what it is.” You repeat disbelieving.

“Can’t change the past. Useless to try.”

“Stuff it down with the brown?” You ask, lifting your empty glass in a cheers.

“Exactly, Guapa.” He unscrewed the whiskey bottle and began pouring you a generous portion. As he’s screwing the lid back on he sits back down, this time though he’s on the couch next to you. “Maybe someday I’ll get teary and we can talk about my fuck ups.”

Your only response is to punch at his hard thigh next to you as you take a long sip, thinking about the information you’d willingly just divulged to Javi.  “I’ve never talked about that before.”

“Not with Steve?”

“Not with anyone. I was ashamed for a long time, still am. But it’s different now; more manageable.”

“Ready to operate then, Doctor Murphy?”

“Asshole.” You say with a reluctant smile to the joke at your own expense.

“pendejo” he leaned back on the sofa as he translated. 

“pen-dejo?”

“Si muy bueno.”

“Another!” 

“Coger!”

“Co-g-er?”

“Si insistes…” He trails off with a smirk.

“You’re a dick.” 

“Yes, I am.”

After placing your drink on the coffee table, you lean over to Javi slowly, refusing to break eye contact, all the while and you lay your head on the plush leather of the sofa; nearer his shoulder than his own face. 

“Thankyou, Javi.” 

“I keep telling you, Sunshine. It’s nothing”

“It’s everything,” You close the distance and place a kiss on his lips. It’s neither heavy nor chaste, like when he initiated them. This is full of meaning, It speaks of letting go of the past and welcoming the future, it's deep and warm and delicious. Your tongue licks at his own as your hand rises to rest on his cheek holding him there, you explore the depths of his mouth instead of conquering them. He tastes of the whiskey and somehow residual tequila, you find yourself getting drunk off of the taste of him. 

Pulling away you rest your forehead against his own. “I’m so tired… and drunk.”

“Sleep with me.”

“Javier, you said- I mean, I don’t think-”

“No, sleep. Just sleep... with me. Gotta be better than the couch up there,”

“No funny business?”

“Scouts honor.”  After a moment of contemplation you decide that this was specifically breaking the rules of your selfishness, the tequila may have altered your perception of the rules somewhat but you had wanted this man for so long. After your emotional confession, falling asleep next to him seemed cathartic.

You take the remote once more and click the red power button, the screen goes black as Javier has already disappeared into his bedroom. You hear him rummaging around in his drawers as you cross the threshold. Once he’s seemingly found what he was looking for, he holds the article up to your inspecting eye. 

It’s a plain olive green v-neck tee, nothing particularly special about it, but it would do as pyjamas, so you accept it gratefully, much preferring a tshirt to the sundress you’d worn out to dinner. You push the straps off of your shoulders, letting them fall under your armpits as you clutch the dress to your front. You pull Javier's t-shirt over your head and are greeted by the fragrance you’d come to love. It smelt like washing powder, spice and cigarette smoke, you wouldn’t say smoke was on your top tier of smells list but it reminded you of Javi so you couldn’t bring yourself to turn your nose up at it. 

Once the shirt was covering all the important bits, you lowered your dress and stepped out of the offending cloth. 

“A little late for modesty, eh?” He smirks as he lights his cigarette, leaning against the pillows of the bed. He was referring to the morning after you’d arrived in Colombia, where you’d walked through this very apartment, bare as the day you were born. 

At some point Javi had rid himself of his dress shirt and dropped onto the bed still wearing his jeans. You shimmy your bra down the sleeve of the tee, to make a point. Winking at him as you finally pull it free. You fling it on top of where your dress lay abandoned. 

“You’re still a perv for that.” You smile fondly at the man as you clamber over to your side of the bed. He’d taken the left, closest to the door. He doesn’t reply as you make yourself cosy, under the thin blanket of the duvet.

You roll over to face him, he seems to be miles away. 

“Where’d you go?” You ask softly, though he startles still. 

“I’m right here,” He deflects, leaning over to the ash tray to stub the smoke out.

“Ok…” You roll your eyes as he turns off the lamp and lies flat on the bed next to you. The two of you are silent for a while. It’s not quite awkward but it's definitely not comfortable silence, the two of you know the implications of your decision tonight. Even if Javi is being a perfect gentleman. Your eyes have yet to acclimate to the dark as you stare out trying to search for his form. 

“Stop staring at me.”

“It’s dark, I’m not staring at anything.” You reply to his childish remark. You hear a chuckle catch in his throat. He seems then to have finally made his decision, he reaches forward and wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you to his chest. You go to stop him, but there's nothing to stop. He makes no further move as he holds you there. Your cheek rests on the overheated skin of his pectoral, it has just enough give to be comfier than any pillow you’ve ever encountered. 

“Maybe, I’ll tell you about my fuck ups one day.” He whispers into your hair, despite the way he says it being non-committal there's a promise behind the words. You don’t reply, already drifting off into the best sleep you’ve had since arriving in Colombia, or perhaps ever. 

A part of your brain registers Javi placing a kiss on the crown of your head as your eyes finally shut, though it is quickly replaced by the singular thought of ‘God, I hope I don’t drool all over him.

                                                       “You sober?” You look up at the clock on the bedside table that reads 5am. You’d been asleep for about four hours. You make a non committal noise in your throat. 

“Javi?” You mumble sleepily, the man behind you is peppering kisses on your neck.

“You want this?” Again you groan, this time however, you nod your head. His arm rises to wrap around your neck, arching your back to get you closer to him. “Do you want this?”

“God yes.” You gasp, pushing your hips back against his bulge. His hands release your stomach as he kisses down your neck once more. His hands are hard on your flesh as they map out your body in the dark.

His hands continue to roam your body as they slide under his shirt, they land on your breasts, he can’t help himself as he weighs them in his hand. He groans in your ear at the feel of them in his palm. You’d always had Javier down as an ass man, he’d nearly burnt a hole through your jeans the night you’d met. But apparently Javi was a man of many tastes as he worshiped your nipple with the pads of his fingers, rolling the sensitive bud through his thumb and forefinger. 

You groan at the sensation and push yourself back into him, desperate to feel every inch of his body against your own. You pull away suddenly and he makes a guttural sound in the back of his throat, though all of his questions are answered as you pull his shirt over your head and throw the offensive fabric across the room. As Quick as a flash he’s back on you, his mouth attached to your neck, giving you absolutely no quarter. 

He’s the one bucking into you this time and that seems to awaken part of your brain, your hands reach behind you they’re clumsy from sleep and the angle you have is awkward, you struggle with the button of his jeans for a second before his hand leaves one of your breasts to undo it for you. His hand returns as quickly as it left though it doesn't stay there for long as it slowly roves south, stroking the flesh of your stomach and making your entire being tighten up in anticipation as he feels you through your boy shorts. His touches are light at first, testing and exploring your body, before his fingers begin teasingly rubbing at your clit seeming to delight in the way, your wetness seeped through your underwear.

You force your brain back to the task at hand as your hand finds his abdomen and lowers through the hair lurking below his zipper, mimicking the actions he had performed on you moments before, however you have no intention of teasing. 

They find their mark, and you have to stop yourself from gasping. You’d felt him on the sofa that night but my god, your imagination hadn’t done him justice as your hand just about closed around him as you pumped him awkwardly behind you. He groaned in your ear and began whispering in a blend of Spanish and English.

His hands rise to dip under your panties, they brush across your mound before they find their home. His fingers barely touch you at first, seeming to be getting the lay of the land. After a moment of teasing, a single solitary finger swipes slowly along your slit, gathering the evidence of your arousal on his fingers. 

He groaned in your ear. “So fucking wet, that sweet little cunt is so ready for me…” Instantaneously you lose all motor skills as your body goes into shock, Javier’s dirty mouth would be the death of you.

Fucksake Y/N he wasn’t even inside of you, yet here you were writhing in his arms like a wanton whore from a single sentence. 

Your reaction seemed to spur him on as he let go of your body and rolled you onto your back. He swung around on his knees to fit between your legs. His hands rested on your hips, gripping onto the panties that lay there before he rolled them down your legs and threw them behind him. He leaned forward on his elbows, to stare at the most intimate part of you. 

Javi began kissing down your thighs, placing small bites along the sensitive skin along the way, getting closer and closer to the throbbing warmth of your pussy. 

“I meant what I said, cariño. I want to know how you taste.” Your mind is brought back to that church, the way he had you pushed against those bars, you didn’t think your body could constrict any further. You were desperate for any kind of contact. And you knew right there and then that you had been right; This man would destroy you. 

He struck then, much like a cobra towards his prey. His tongue flattened against your warmth, breaching your folds and catching on your clit.  The tip of his tongue was skilled as it danced along your bud, drawing cry after cry from you as your hands grabbed at his short ink black hair. 

He takes one final lap at your swollen clit before his tongue goes lower, he pushes through and sinks his tongue inside of you. His nose, that you’d appreciated for its character bumped perfectly against your clit making stars shoot behind your eyes.  You clenched around his tongue, desperate to be filled, he seemed to get the message as two fingers were quickly buried in your aching hole. 

“So fucking tight,  Guapa, I don’t know if I can fit three...te lo vas a tomar tan bien.” His tongue had risen back up to your clit, the combination of the vibration and filth of his words made a whimper drop from your lips, before he started rotating his tongue in circles around your swollen bud as his two fingers pumped in and out of your cunt at a thundering pace drawing you closer and closer to the edge as the minutes went by.

Finally, his fingers curled inside you as he sucked your clit into his mouth and all at once you were pushed off the cliff. You couldn’t tell what pushed you over that first peak so quickly, maybe it was the fact that it was Javier, the man who had been plaguing your dreams since you arrived in Colombia, currently between your legs devouring your cunt like a starving man, perhaps it was a culmination of five days of foreplay, but whatever the reason, when you fell, you fell fucking hard. 

You clenched around Javi’s fingers like a vice, so much so he hissed into your pussy and began thrusting his fingers faster. Spots clouded your vision as your whole body curved upwards and around the man giving you this pleasure as your legs clamped around his head and your fingers must have scratched his scalp as your hips thrust, riding his face to your peak. You were as taut as bowstring before the tension finally snapped and your body exploded in euphoria. You let out a cry as you crescendo on Javi's talented tongue.

He didn’t stop straight away, even after your body slumped back against the bed, he coaxed you through the aftermath of your orgasm, lapping at your entrance and drinking your come like it was the most delicious wine he’d ever sampled, groaning all the while.

Finally, he pushed himself forward, kissing at your thighs, your mound and finally your stomach as he came to rest over you, holding all his weight on his elbows. His face met your own as he kissed you deep, fucking your mouth with his tongue as he had done your pussy moments before. He leans back rubbing at your stomach, at your hips, at any flesh he can get his hands on. 

“Sabes mejor de lo que podría haber imaginado precioso.” He whispers against your breast as his mouth locks around your nipple. Javier Peña speaking Spanish did things to you, even if he hadn’t been stimulating your breasts you knew for a fact you’d be just as wet from hearing him speak in what you could only assume was a first language from the ease with which it left his mouth. You wished more than anything you could understand what was undoubtedly the filth coming from his mouth. 

You had recovered enough from his assault on your clit, to move your hands from your sides. They raised up and traced the tanned skin on his chest. He really was beautiful. He pulled back to stare at you, giving you a clearer view of his body.

He was muscled yet lithe and you took a self indulgent moment, committing the sight of him to memory, before your hands wrapped around his cock, which was standing to full attention through the undone zip of his jeans. He was what must have been unbearably hard, if you’d have had light to see, you had no doubt the head of his cock would be purple, straining with need. You pushed his jeans further down, recruiting your feet to push them down over his ass. Your hands roamed down to squeeze at the bountiful offering of meaty flesh. 

He chuckled as you pinched his cheek, before lifting his knees one at a time and kicking his jeans off of the bed and before you knew it he was lining himself up, brushing the head of his cock through your wet folds. Despite his groan at the contact, he had the discipline to check a final time. “This is what you want, Y/N?”

You didn’t bother to answer, you pushed his hand away from his cock, and pushed it towards your hole. You pushed your hips up against him in lieu of an answer, welcoming the head of his cock inside you. Even though all you could manage was shallow entry, the feel of him inside of you was glorious. 

 His hands, those talented, glorious hands found your own, wrapping his significantly larger ones around yours above your head. He pushed forward with one strong thrust of those lithe hips and he buried himself balls deep inside of you, rooted so deep you swear you could feel him in your cervix. He was everywhere, he was plundering every inch of you as his body surrounded your own, heat built between the two of you as sweat began coating both of your bodies. 

Every thrust brought you closer to your second peak, turning your head you couldn’t resist trying to get him to claim your mouth too. Though you couldn’t quite reach far enough to make contact, as if reading your mind Javier bent his elbow pushing his torso forward, coincidently pounding deeper into your body as your lips joined in a messy kiss.  He was fucking into you slow and deep, his tongue began following the rhythm of his cock as he claimed every single part of you as his own. 

The pace was brutally slow, just enough to get you to that edge and keep you on it, you could barely speak. You felt like you were drowning in Javier and every time you came up for air he bottomed out, meeting your hips with his own and the wave of pleasure cut off the oxygen all over again.

“Please… Javi…”

“W-what do you want Sunshine?” He panted out continuing with his slow tempo.

“Faster...please... God.” He ignored your cry for speed and continued fucking you into the matress at his own pace, though his thrusts were just as slow but they were harder. His hips hit against your own, as he put all of his power behind them, getting as deep as he could. If you didn’t know better you’d think he was trying to tunnel through to your womb. You clenched at the thought as he fucked you deep and hard. 

“... Javi…” You cried his name, a desperate plea as he kept you suspended over your peak, refusing to let you free fall. Finally he huffed, taking your legs and throwing them over his shoulders.

“You want me to fuck you properly, huh, Guapa?” He began thrusting into you at an arduous pace, the room was filled with your cries, his grunts and slapping of your connecting skin. Those telling black spots were clouding your vision, your second orgasm of the evening was fast approaching. Once again you clenched down on Javi’s thick cock. 

“I’m gonna’ come.” His hand lowered and began rubbing at your clit, not pausing for a moment as he fucked you thoroughly. 

“ven por mí...ven sobre mi polla… fuckin’ Sunshine, fucking taking my cock…. buena niña, podría follarte todo el día.” The second he lost his brain and began muttering in Spanish was the moment you were gone. You came for the second time as he was relentlessly hammering into you, drawing your orgasm from you. Your whole body braced against him, your eyes squeezed shut as you clamped down around his cock, milking him tightly.

“Fuck!” He growled at the tightness surrounding him. 

After a few moments he pulled out, quickly grabbing your and flipping you onto your stomach, after placing a pillow under your hips. He then buried himself back inside of you to the hilt his groans mixing with your own at the sensation. He kept up the pace he had before but this time the angle was deeper as he forced your legs together with his thighs. 

Javi’s hands grabbed at your ass (perhaps he was an ass man after all) slapping the meaty flesh which resided there and then instantly kneaded the tissue he’d just abused. His hands rose to carresse the skin of your hips before he took a punishing grip on them and began fucking you in earnest. Javier taking his pleasure from your body whilst you lay a drooling mess from the orgasm he’d already gave you was an image you didn’t know would turn you on, but it made you clench around his shaft as it plundered your depths. 

He began speaking again, though they were lost in a mix of Spanish and English, so much so you couldn’t differentiate. His pace was relentless and finally you felt him begin to shake as he gasped above you

“¿dónde?...w...where?”

“Come inside me, Javi.” He groaned at words and continued pounding until his hips stuttered and he brought it home and buried himself deep inside, filling you to the brim with his seed.  

The two of you lay there breathing heavy trying hard to get your breath back, half of his weight on top of you and the other half resting on the mattress.His cock was slowly going soft inside of you, yet you felt no urgency to move.

“So much for scouts honor, huh?” You ask from behind a veil of hair, turning your face which had been buried in the mattress moments before. Your voice is hoarse; completely wrecked much like the rest of you. 

He’s silent for a moment of consideration, before he leans forward in the moonlight and pushes your hair from your face. The action makes his cock shift inside of you and a little of his release spills out onto your thighs. He continues anyway and places a soft kiss on your lips before whispering “... I was never a boy scout, cariño.”

TAGLIST - Leave a message if you’d like to be added homies.

@drinkingwhileblogging @va-guardianhathaway  @jedi-jesi @obsessivelysearching @cannedsoupsucks @wantingtobekorra @littlemissoblivious @linnie0119 @pascalesque @pedrosmustache @sir-lili @obsessivelysearching @fairytale07

A/N: Fuck me that was the steamest shit I’ve ever written. This was especially for @drinkingwhileblogging and her turquoise titties, hope this makes up for me blue balling you all. 

[mostly-marvel-musings]

A Favour - Part 2

A/N: Written for CJ’s Twisted Valentine’s Challenge. @buckeverlasting​ this is a long one. Apologies for the delay. Not my gif!

Part 1

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader 

Warning: Cursing, angst, some faux fluff.

Everything Taglist – @godofplumsandthunder​ @ladyacrasia​ @agustdowney​ @swaggysposts​ @littlegasps​ @little-baby-vixen​ @another-stark-sub​ @supraveng​ @kahlanmars​ @marvelgirl7​ @disappointmentofthefam​ @pandaxnienke​ @tom-hlover​ @just-the-hiddles​ @fyreball66 @asmigurub​ @avantgardium-leviosa​ @imerdwarf​ @gladiosamicitias​

…

The empty training room was filled with grunts and angry kicks and punches at 4:00 am on Sunday morning as your sleep deprived self and the need to blow off steam had led you to your trusty punching bag. 

“Why do I do this to myself?” You muttered under your breath, finding yourself on the train of thoughts that had brought you here and in first place & rethink your deal agreement. Your knuckles were sore, body covered in sweat but the anger still simmered beneath the surface as you prepared yourself mentally for that dreaded brunch which you were supposed to leave for in six hours. 

“Trouble sleeping?” A familiar voice called out from the door, your head snapped towards the source and found Steve Rogers leaning against the wall, arms folded, regarding you as a source of amusement. 

“Something like that.” 

“We can go for a run if you want. Or you have plans of punching the sand out of that bag?” 

He nodded towards it with a small smile before you stepped back and began unwrapping your gloves. You wondered why he was awake at this hour, it wasn’t uncommon to find Cap running along the compound perimeter as the horizon lightened, but this was way too early, even for him. 

“I think I’ve had enough. I’ll leave the destruction of punching bags to you.” 

Steve chuckled, remembering the number of times he’d been too aggressive with his training, and the times you had found him in a pensive mood, revisiting his past, sometimes regretting it before your words of encouragement and your listening ear made him feel better. 

As you walked past him with your gym bag, he stepped in your way as you had expected. Steve wouldn’t let you be if he knew there was something bothering you.

“Are you okay (Y/N)?” 

“Of course. I’ll see you later.” Giving your best faux smile, you headed upstairs. 

.

I can do this. I’ve had years of practice. I’ve got this.

Murmuring this over and over under your breath as you got dressed for brunch, you faced the mirror for the hundredth time and back stared a girl who’d been clobbered more than once yet had never gave up, a hopeless romantic who still believed in miracles, that one day all the unspoken love for one man would be reciprocated.

The man who wanted you to help him avoid losing face at a social gathering hosted by his ex. A pretend date, some rehearsed terms of endearment to call one another in public & nothing more.

As your thoughts took that painful turn, tears began gathering in your eyes clouding your vision as you heard a knock on your door.

Time to put on a mask.

“(Y/N) you ready?” Steve called from the other side while you dealt with your watery eyes situation before opening the door.

“Alright let’s do this.” You grinned brightly, eyes expectantly searching for a compliment as Steve stared at you, mouth hanging open just a little bit.

“Wow you look fantastic. I—I mean beautiful. As always.” He breathed, cheeks turning pink as he struggled, shifting weight back and forth on his feet as your heart soared & smile widened.

“You don’t look so bad yourself Cap.”

Steve offered you his arm which you gladly took before closing the bedroom door behind you and passed some of your Avenger friends who all had one similar perplexed look except for Natasha who knew the whole ordeal and just gave you her best compassionate smile.

.

Sharon’s house was bigger than you’d expected, a familial neighbourhood, buzzing with light chatter and catered food and drinks being passed around by smartly dressed waiters, definitely remote from your taste and style.

“We should probably hold hands.”

You whispered, elbowing Steve who was busy searching for the host in the sea of people gathered in the space. He nodded and laced his fingers with yours, pulling you to his side as he smiled down at you warmly making your heart flutter without consent.

Soon enough you saw Sharon making a beeline for Steve, her smile vanishing slowly as her eyes landed on you.

“Steve you made it!” she exclaimed giving him a swift hug and kiss on his cheek before facing you expecting an introduction. You were preoccupied by the way he’d let your hand go to greet her, making the rational side in your brain scold your sentimental one.

“Sharon this is (Y/N) (Y/L/N), I think you’ve met her in HQ before. We’re dating.” Steve beamed down at you after grabbing your hand once more, surprisingly convincing as Sharon flashed you a faux smile. Similar to the one you were putting on ever since you’d arrived here.

“Wow. That’s some development isn’t it? Nice to meet you (Y/N).”

“You too. Steve’s told me a lot about you.” you shook her hand firmly, not lying about the last part. Sharon Carter was all Steve spoke about after she’d helped them find his best friend Bucky some years back.

Someone called her name and she excused herself, leaving the two of you to mingle with the rest of the crowd.

You found yourself in a secluded spot out in the backyard after brunch and interacting with a hundred people repeating the same well-versed story about dating the great Captain America. You played your part well and so did he, considering he felt absolutely nothing and you the complete opposite. There was no reason for people to believe you weren’t a couple, except for Sharon who kept eyeing the two of you every now and then.

Blaming your own stupid self for getting into this whole ordeal in the first place, you were glad there was alcohol being served at this party to drown your sorrows in. Watching every happy couple so in love and interact with them was harder than you’d expected.

Steve hadn’t noticed your absence, at least not for a while as he animatedly chatted with Sharon and some of her colleagues about something you didn’t care for.

You closed your eyes took a deep breath after gulping down your third glass of wine that afternoon when Steve decided to find you.

“I sneaked two donuts from the desserts bar.”

He revealed two chocolate covered donuts from behind his back, offering you one after you chuckled in response.

“That went well…I think.”

“Sure.”

“You alright?”

When you didn’t answer, he came closer and stepped in front of you, urging you to look at him by placing a hand on your shoulder, thumb rubbing your skin in circles.

“No Steve, I’m not okay.”

Looking him in the eye was a mistake, his baby blues were full of concern making you feel worse than you already were. You were determined to speak your heart out at this point, regardless of the outcome.

“I haven’t been okay for a while. This was a huge mistake, I never should’ve agreed to be your date. Not when I’m in love with you.”

“You’re…you’re in love with me?”

“You’re really blind aren’t you? You’ve known me for years and yet you didn’t notice my cancelling plans to tend to your needs. You never saw my demeanor change whenever you’ve brought up her name in a conversation because you were too fucking busy plotting this in hopes of winning her over!”

“That’s not true—”

“I’m not finished!”

His eyes reflected guilt and shame more than concern before he cast them downward, not able to face your furious outburst as tears blurred your vision and your voice cracked.

“Do you know how long I’ve been dreaming about going on a real date with you? God I feel so stupid right now. I waited for you to make the first move. I waited for months Steve!”

“Nat kept saying you were working up the courage to ask me out. She was stupid, I was stupid. All of this is-is so fucking stupid!”

Tears fell down your cheeks as you paced back and forth on the porch making no attempts of wiping them away, glad that there wasn’t another soul to witness this drama unfold.

“I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry.”

“I know you are. And that’s what sucks. I think I’m gonna leave.”

Making yourself presentable, you placed the glass you were clutching on the steps before leaving Steve alone on the porch. He caught up while you reached for the front door, turning a few heads your way.

“(Y/N) wait! Let me drive you home at least.”

“I can manage.”

“Please?”

His eyes were helpless, sad. You knew arguing with him was pointless, he never failed to get you home safe. You could never really say no to that face.

“Okay.”

“How can I make you feel better (Y/N)?”

“Ice-cream?”

[chris-evans-indian-fanfic]

Voice

One-Shot

Description: When Mr Freezy enters your life, your peaceful world is destroyed.

Warnings: Non-consensual, voyeurism, masturbation, verbal abuses, harsh language and hints of necrophilia

DO NOT PROCEED IF THESE THINGS UPSET YOU. THIS IS A VERY DARK STORY. ONLY PROCEED IF YOU ARE 18+

This one-shot is my entry for Week 5 of @donutloverxo 's superfun writing challenge. This time, the challenge was based on GIFs. The one I selected will appear in the story below. Click here to participate in their weekly challenges

A/N- I blame @jtargaryen18 for making me an unholy hoe for Mr Freezy! 

My Main Masterlist

I don’t consent to have any of my work published or featured on any third party app, website or translated. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but Tumblr and AO3, it has been reposted without my permission. In that case, please do share the link and let me know.

…

You were living the best life in 1969. Working part-time at the ice-cream parlor in the mornings, hanging out with your friends in the evening and sneaking out for parties at night, you loved your routine, carefree life in New Jersey.

Your foot bobbed along the tunes of Honky Tonk Woman by The Rolling Stones as you read that month's fashion magazine, sitting by the new, shiny cassette player. Taking pride in the fact that your family was the first in the neighborhood to buy the expensive cassette player, latest in the technology of playing music, you smirked as you delicately, almost teasingly fondled the device. 

*beep beep*

The annoying horn of the filthy ice-cream truck broke you out of your reverie. Scowling, you turned to look at the abomination on 4 wheels parked right in front of your house. The long-haired driver, who called himself Mr Freezy, always gave you creepy vibes. Maybe he thought his wide smile would lure in more children, but it never failed to make your skin crawl with disgust. 

You tried your best to ignore him and his irritating horn, hoping that he would drive away soon enough. Unfortunately, it was a hot summer's day and there was a long, winding line of customers.

After yet another *beep beep* you slammed down the magazine on the table. Walking out in your pinkish-red knee-length skirt and long-sleeved top, you had a good mind to tell Mr Freezy off.

Standing in front of his ice-cream truck window, you stomped your foot and placed your hands on your hips. "How can I help you Ms Jello Mould?" his disgusting attempt at comparing you to a dessert sent a chill down your spine. 

"You have a long line of customers! Stop pressing your horn every 5 seconds!" you exclaimed, gesturing your hands towards the waiting people.

Mr Freezy chuckled, but the mirth didn't reach his eyes behind the glasses, "Now now. That is no way to talk to someone who is older than you Raspberry Ripple," he said in a friendly tone, "Not everybody can afford to buy a cassette player." 

"Maybe you can if you cleaned your ice-cream truck once in a while," you spat, purposefully covering your nose, "I work in an ice-cream parlor, and no establishment dealing with ice-creams should stink like this!" 

"My customers don't seem to mind it Sugar," his sweet tongue rolling the last word as if he was drooling.

You huffed, "I mind it! And stop with the horn! Or I will have daddy make sure you are never seen here again." And with that hardly intimidating threat, you walked towards your house. Mr Freezy licked his lips as he saw your silhouette disappear behind the front door. He could put your bratty nature to good use. Very good use indeed.

🍦

Dressed in a brown checkered dress, you sauntered home after your shift ended, your spirits high as you looked forward to being Ricky's date tonight at the party.

As you entered your home, your eyes fell upon the new cassette sitting besides your beloved player. Squealing with excitement, you rushed and grabbed the plastic box, hurriedly prying it open. To your surprise, a few photographs of you and Ricky fell out of the case with the words "Does daddy know about him?" scribbled on the back of every photograph.

No no no. OH GOD NO! you panicked as you rifled through the images. Your parents had no idea about your nightlife, let alone your boyfriend! These lovey-dovey photographs threatened to reveal your secret and ruin your life.

You found another note in the box behind the cassette, "There are plenty where these came from. Now be a good girl and play the cassette." Just beneath the sentence, a chocolate bar was roughly drawn in the corner and the words “My Chocolate Fudge” were written in small letters. 

Your hands trembled as you hit play. A raspy voice greeted you from the device.

"Hey baby." You knew this voice, who was he? "Has daddy's little princess recognised me?" You were pretty shaken up, your mind refused to let go of the terror and think straight for a moment as your thumbs rubbed against one another.

"Oohh Sugar, what am I going to do with you?" the voice chuckled. That sentence brought you to a complete halt. It was Mr Freezy! How dare he threaten you like this?

Before you could form any coherent thought, he tut-tutted in annoyance, "How can an ordinary ice-cream man like me trouble a beautiful young woman such as yourself? What will Daddy say? Let's call Daddy shall we? I am sure he would enjoy looking at how well Ricky can fondle his daughter's breasts."

You felt numb as his words sank in. If your father found out, he would have you sent to the country, to his relatives who lived on a farm! Eww!! You shuddered, overcome with disgust as the cassette continued.

"Now Sugar, we don't need to tell Daddy about us. Do we?" You shook your head in response. "Very good," Mr Freezy continued, "Open the curtains to your right, and look at the house across the street."

You followed the instructions, and nearly choked on your spit. There he was, in your neighbour's house, smiling and waving from their first-floor window. "Follow my next instructions very carefully, or I will make sure that your entire neighborhood comes to know about the wonderful kisser that Ricky is."

You could only nod in response. No matter what, you could not afford to let your family be humiliated because of your actions. 

"From now on, hit pause after you finish every command. And hurry, we haven't got all day Sugar. Your mother will be home soon. And if she is home before I am done with you, then let's just say tonight there wouldn't be any dessert for you," you gulped in agreement.

"Pull up a chair near the window and place the player near you." Your fear slowed you down and the recorder kept on playing, "Face the window, and strip." After a pause, you heard, "Sit on the chair and spread your legs wide. Keep your feet on the windowsill."

The rest of the commands fell on deaf ears as your body was stunned in shock. Did this man… really? You couldn't. You wouldn't. Maybe you could still apologise…

Tears brimmed in your eyes as you realised what this man wanted you to do. It was almost 4:30pm and people would soon fill the street in front of your house. If anybody decided to even look towards the window, they would surely see your body on full display.

As if reading your thoughts, Mr Freezy shook his head and pointed to his wristwatch.

You knew your mother would be home before 5:30pm. Whatever you had to do, you would have to do it quickly. 

With trembling hands, you paused the cassette, and obeyed his first two commands, the upholstery on the chair feeling warm against your naked bottom. From this angle, you couldn't see him, but you were sure he was keeping an eye on you.

You were correct. 

Mr Freezy sucked on his ice-cream bar as he watched the scene unfold. His tongue working the cold dessert as if it were your core. A small bite here, a suck there, and his length was already aching in his pants.

"Oooo look at that slutty pussy! Just waiting for a man's touch," his voice cooed from the recorder, "Play with your clit with one hand, and bring your other hand to your breast."

You begrudgingly relented, wanting to get it all over with soon. Heat flooded to your face as the indignity of your actions set in.

Across the street, Mr Freezy unzipped his pants, and started rubbing the neighbor's panty on his shaft, his touch fleetingly light as he sucked on the bar. He bit into the ice-cream when you rubbed your clit, the cold going straight to his length.

"I love how your plump breasts bounce everytime you take a step. A man can get lost in those curves of yours," his raspy voice continued, "Squeeze your breast lightly. Feel it's roundness. Tease your nipple too. Fondle it with one finger." 

You bit your lips as you followed his instructions. You had masturbated a few times and had even reached third base with Ricky, but it had never felt like this. You knew this was humiliation in answer to your rude behaviour. But this… it felt… good. You were ashamed to admit it, but as the teasing prolonged, you started feeling the familiar and ever elusive knot building up in your stomach.

"Yes yes yes baby. Rub that clit harder. Make that pussy wet for me. But don't you dare enter a finger in your cumhole." 

He watched as your hips thrust upwards, desperate for friction, as he started pumping himself faster. 

"Slap that boob," he commanded as another moan escaped your lips, "slap harder!" and you did. "Pinch your nipple and pull it. Pull it you cock sucking bitch."

More wetness pooled at your core as you continued to play with your body. 

"Stop," said Mr Freezy's voice. At first you thought you misheard him and so you didn't.

"I said STOP YOU FUCKING BITCH," his shouts from the player sounded as clear as a bell. 

Startled, you brought yourself to a complete stop. Despite yourself, the sudden cessation left you feeling disappointed and hungry for more. "Pause this recording. Go to the full-length mirror in your room and have a good look at yourself," his voice urged you.

Meanwhile, Mr Freezy had come undone across the street, his thick release coating the neighbor's cotton panties. He sighed as he used the neighbor's brassiere to wipe himself clean. He was longing to get a taste of you. Too bad he had other things planned for you instead.

You ran towards your room, trying to hide your nakedness as much as you could. You didn't recognise the woman in the reflection. Hair astray, lips and cheeks slightly flushed, puffed breath, eyes wide and the hair on your mound glistening with your arousal. You couldn't bring yourself to meet your eyes reflected in the mirror. 

You carefully went downstairs, and resumed the cassette.

"Saw the slut in the mirror? That's who you are bitch. A whore for a man's cock. Don't let Ricky touch that filthy pussy again, or I will fill you with my cum infront of your Daddy while he watches," the cassette ended with the heavy threat.

🍦

You were living the worst life in 1969. Quite often, you came home to a new cassette with new instructions recorded on them. Everytime, the plastic box was filled with naked photographs of your previous lewd acts. Up until now, you had jumped naked in front of the window, placed ice on different parts of your body, deep-throated an ice-cream bar and stripped to a vulgar song. 

Tonight however, it was different. He had asked you to carry a bottle of wine (that he kept on your bed while you were gone) and go to a hotel at midnight. Mr Freezy had explicitly mentioned that you were to wear only your bra and panty. Still, you covered yourself with a long coat as you snuck out of the house.

The hotel, if you could call an almost crumbling building that, was in the notorious part of town. With your heart pounding in your throat, you shed your coat and knocked on the door. A large man answered, his smirk widening as he took in your appearance. "You Buffy's girl?" you nodded just as you had been instructed. The stranger pulled your breast and dragged you into the room. 

He smacked your ass as he grabbed the wine bottle with another, "Buffy always sends the best stuff."

He was swift in opening the bottle, chugging the liquid down as if it was water. You shuddered at the thoughts of what this man was capable of doing to you. Tears filled your eyes at the realisation.

The man looked at you and, without warning, shoved the glass bottle in your mouth. "Drink. I like it when my prostitutes are drunk." His gaze swept over your entire body. One second you were gulping down the foul liquid, the next you were gasping for breath as he pulled the cups of your bra and poured the liquid down your torso, "Let these girls drink too! Lets get hammered baby!" he exclaimed as he pulled the elastic band of your panty and poured the wine on your mound. 

He laughed maniacally as you squirmed in his grip. Drinking the last of the drops, he pulled you into his lap, licking and sucking at the wine currently following down your figure. 

Your protests only spurred him on, but it all lasted only for a few seconds. 

You felt the stranger's body seize with yours. Breath coming in harsh rasps, you felt your throat constricting as sharp pain shot in every nerve of your body. Your agony, along with the stranger's, lasted only for a few minutes as your shallow breaths became few, finally coming to a raggedy stop.

Mr Freezy smiled a lopsided grin into his binoculars. He hurried across the street, grabbing the girl's dead body and dumping it into his ice-cream truck.

He happily hummed when he saw the ice slowly creep up your skin. You see, this profession had turned Mr Freezy cold, inside out. To an extent where he despised the warmth of a pussy around his cock. He craved the cold. He craved you.

__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__

Taglist open! Just comment, send an ask or message!

[auroraawrites]

what would have been (cedric diggory x reader)

gif not mine! all credit goes to @ronweaslley​

requested by anon: can you please do a cedric diggory oneshot? like angst. basically like show your relationship progression if that makes sense? like when he shows you off to everyone, etc. until he dies, and you cope by like wearing his jumper GAH I WANT TO CRY THANJ U

warnings: major angst ahead! involves discussions about death, loss, and grieving.

author’s note: i’d recently been rereading the hp series and full out cried reading cedric’s parts like all the ways through the last task of the tournament. anyways, the italics means its a flashback memory ♥ enjoy

(everything on my blog is my own writing. please do not plagiarize my work nor repost it anywhere else without my permission. all rights reserved)

---

perched at the edge of your seat, you stared out nervously into the abyss of darkened green that was the third task of the tri-wizarding tournament. it had been exactly an hour since the last of the champions had scurried into the maze, and the nervous anticipation of their audience hung thickly in the air. red sparks had gone off twice already, returning a devilish looking fleur and an unconscious victor to the jeering crowd. you should’ve felt relieved that hogwarts champions were the only two left now, but the pure desperation for cedric to be the one that brang it home was all you could pray for. 

rolling your eyes, you couldn’t help the smile that slipped over your features at the sight of the tall, brown haired boy that stood leaning against the hallway across from the charms classroom. spotting your familiar figure amongst the group of students leaving the classroom, he weaved his way through the crowd to stand in front of you, a goofy grin plastered across his face.

you weren’t quite used to being friends with the champion of hogwarts just yet. you had only met him this year after stumbling upon him one night at the library, feverishly pouring over some books that you had also required for an assignment. the pair of you usually only talked in the comforts of the library, but here he was, standing only a few feet in front of you. 

“cedric,” you acknowledged him with a nod and made to move past him, only for him to step in front of your path again. 

“y/n” he said, the smile still etched onto his lips. “i was wondering if you’d like to accompany me to the yule ball?” a pair of ravenclaw girls passed by them, muffled giggles echoing down the now nearly deserted hall. “as my date, i mean.” he hastened, a slight flush creeping up his neck. 

failing to stifle the smile that had now returned to your features, you cast a shy look up at him and nodded, “i’d love to.”

his grin was blinding as he escorted you down to your next lesson. 

eyes flicking over the entrance again, your heart suddenly leaped at the sight of the yellow jersey that had appeared at the mouth of the maze. standing with the rest of the crowd, your cry of triumph had just erupted from your lips when you noticed the peculiar state of cedric’s arrival. for he wasn’t alone at the entrance, the unmistakable red jersey of harry potter gleaming beside him. harry who looked like he was shouting, stood crouched over cedric’s body, the look of fear and agony unmistakable even across the pitch. and cedric. cedric who had not moved since his arrival, lay perfectly still beneath harry. 

a horrible image of cedric being attacked by an unknown monster flashed through your mind as you stood with shaky legs and followed the crowd of students down to meet the champions. your heart thundered in your ears, pushing through the forming crowd with a growing desperation. cedric couldn’t be that badly hurt could he? but it was the sight of mrs. diggory’s horror struck features that made you stop in your tracks. 

ignoring the growing dread within you, you followed her line of sight to cedric. cedric, who lay pale and unmoving against the grass. cedric who’s lifeless eyes stared blankly up at the darkened sky. cedric, who was unmistakably, dead.

nervously pulling at the bodice of your gown, you looked around the empty dorm room, trying to calm yourself before you dared step out into the ravenclaw common room, where you knew cedric diggory stood waiting for you. finally deciding that there was nothing left for you to do but leave, you stepped out cautiously on to the balcony that overlooked the main area of the common room, a blush overtaking you as you spotted cedric down below. 

a look of pure wonder and surprise greeted you as you made your way down the staircase to stand in front of him. dressed handsomely in a dark dress robe himself, your breath caught in your throat as you stared up at him, unsure of what to say or do. 

before you could so much as utter a small apology for being late, he lifted your hand in his own and pressing a small kiss upon you knuckles, his eyes never leaving your face, “you look... stunning,” he finished in a low voice. a strange pang rushed down your navel at the sound of his voice. 

“you clean up pretty well, diggory,” the words were just barely above a whisper. “shall we get going?”

taking your hand, he wrapped your arm around the crook of his elbow and walked you through the halls of the castle, the stream of conversation between the two of you never wavering. arriving at the entrance to the great hall, you noticed that you two were the last to arrive. mcgonagall shot them a stern look but continued on in her attempt to arrange the champions into a line. it suddenly occurred to you that you were about to announce your relationship with cedric to the whole school and a sliver of nervousness pooled in your stomach. as if reading your mind, he gave your arm a reassuring squeeze as you followed behind the rest of the couples into the great hall. 

at the cue of the starting note, he turned at took your hand softly in his, leaning down to whisper a remark about mcgonagall dress robes into your ear as you passed. the giggle that escaped your lips loosened the worries that had coiled in your stomach. following his lead, cedric led you through the dance floor and you both waltzed gracefully around the hall, eyes only for each other. 

time had slowed down around you. your fellow students moved past you in slow motion as they jostled past, trying to get a better look. in the distance, you could hear harry shouting, his words coming into sudden focus as the world regained its normal pace again, “he’s back! voldemort! he’s back! he killed cedric!” 

knees buckling beneath you, you sank to the ground, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe. this wasn’t happening right now. no, it was a dream. this was all a terrible dream. but, as the pitch slowly cleared and you could see the sobbing figures of mr. and mrs. diggory again, you knew that no dark depth of your mind could have ever come up with something like this. 

---

days passed in plastic smiles and reassurances to the people that kept asking if you were alright. you wished they would stop asking. how were you supposed to respond? 

time seemed meaningless to you as day passed into night and back again. you barely left your bed, lying there staring up at the ceiling, a hollow emptiness in your chest. you hadn’t cried. hadn’t thrown a fit of rage. hardly even spoken a word since that night. you knew that your friends were getting worried but you didn’t care. nothing felt real anymore. 

twas the night before the second task and you stood in dumbledore’s office, your hand gripped tightly in hermione granger’s. dumbledore had just explained the premises of the task and after assuring the consent of all the ‘hostages’ as he called them, you watched somewhat ruefully as a potion was making its way down the very short line, soon being pressed into your own hand. 

mustering up all your courage, you popped open the bottle cap and gulped down the sweet tasting liquid in one go. the effects were immediate. as the world slowly faded around you, you quickly wished cedric the best of luck in your head and promptly fell into a deep sleep. 

---

your head broke the surface of the icy water with a large gasp. wiping the water out of your eyes, you caught sight of cedric’s equally drenched and laughing face beside you and you couldn’t help but copy his actions, your own laugh breathy as you both made your way towards the shore. 

cedric had been the first to make it back to shore and the cheers from the hogwarts crowd for it were deafening. helping you out of the water, the pair were promptly bundled up in warm blankets by a muttering mrs. pomfrey. sharing a smile, you sat huddled next to him on the log, listening earnestly as he explained how he had rescued you from the murky depths of the lake. he looked so proud and triumphant. leaning forward before you lost your new found courage, you pressed a quick kiss on his cheek and sat back with a blush. 

having not expected it, cedric sat in shock for a moment before turning to you and returning your earlier peck with a deep, passionate kiss of his own. you could hear the crowd around you crowing at the sight. laughing a little as you pulled back, you returned your head to the crook of his shoulder and stared out into the lake, waiting for the rest of the champions to arrive. 

“y/n,” a soft voice interrupted the quiet that filled the dormitory. turning, you managed a slight curve of your lips as greeting for padma patil, “it’s cedric’s memorial feast tonight.” she whispered, as if afraid that if she spoke any louder, she might break you. 

memorial feast. it was cedric’s memorial feast tonight. nodding, you slowly rose from your lying position. “i’ll be down in a minute.” your voice was hoarse after not being in use for so long. padma left the room and you were once again alone. slowly moving out of bed, you moved towards the trunk of clothes that sat at the foot of your bed. 

pulling it open, your heart gave a painful jerk as you caught sight of the yellow sweater that lay, folded neatly atop it. fingers shaking, you pulled the wool sweater out of the trunk. it was as if the sight of it had brought out the rush of emotion you had been trying to bury these past few days. tears streamed down your cheek as you traced around the hufflepuff badge with shaky fingers and great, racketing sobs echoed through the empty room for the next half hour as you sat, the sweater clutched to your chest. you hadn’t even managed a proper goodbye to him. and now he was gone. 

[fific7]

Dangerous and Divine - Part 13

Billy Russo x Reader

Summary: Billy Russo is an itch you don’t want to scratch. But he’s all over you like a rash.

A/N: This does not follow canon, it’s mainly fluff & lemon zest 🍋 The GIF is from Exposed, unreleased pilot show in case you’re wondering 😌... Billy vibes.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content including oral and unprotected* sex between consenting adults. Some drinking & swearing.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

(My GIF)

His dark chocolate eyes appeared above yours, a soft look in them. He kissed you long and slow, and then you heard him whisper, “But she’ll never catch me, sweetheart. You already got me.”

You gave a low laugh, “You are such a big sap, Russo!”

He laughed back, eyes crinkling up at the corners, “Ssssh! Don’t keep sayin’ that, angel! You’re ruinin’ my rep,” before kissing you again.

He pulled back, eyes gazing into yours, “Wanna pick up where we left off? Before we got rudely interrupted?” You smiled, “Might do.” He unwrapped his towel with a flourish and threw it onto the floor. Your eyes slowly roamed over his masterpiece of a body, and excitement sparked in your veins.

“Don’t mind when you look,” smirked Billy, but then an angry scowl flitted across his face. He looked away from you, “You know when she was stood in front of me?” he looked back as you nodded, “She was looking at me like I was a prime fillet. Covered my equipment cos she was starin’ right at it.”

He leant back as you sat up, saying angrily, “Yeah, I saw you! - that was why?!!! I thought you were reverting to ‘Marine’. Or something.” You huffed out a big breath, “That!... that....!” you were momentarily lost for words. Billy smiled at you, and laid his hand on your cheek, “Yeah, that was why. Look, forget I mentioned it, I just got pissed off again and shouldn’t’ve said anythin’. C’mon, angel - c’mere.”

You let yourself get folded into Billy’s arms, and settled yourself back down on the pillows. Feeling his lips on your neck, you put your head back slightly to give him better access. Those sensuous lips travelled down onto your collarbone, and your eyes closed in pleasure as he nipped at your skin before licking it slowly. His mouth made its way slowly but surely to your breasts, paying close attention to your nipples as it went, circling them with that tongue of his and then sucking until you gasped out little breaths in quick succession.

You were already as wet as the ocean and he’d hardly touched you. Long fingers trailed over your pussy before two pushed inside you, and a very long moan escaped your lips. Billy’s mouth was at your ear, whispering, “D’you like that, angel? How about this?” A third finger joined the other two and you felt the stretch immediately, giving a little squeal, then his thumb was rubbing your clit so firmly you just couldn’t be quiet.... at all.

Then Billy was slinking his way down your body, tongue trailing over you, the feeling of his scratchy beard against your inner thighs announcing the arrival of his head between your legs. Oh my, your brain screeched, this is gonna be very... ! His tongue joined in with all the other action below decks, and your brain fizzled up like a sparkler somebody’d just lit before it could finish the thought.

You grabbed two large handfuls of Billy’s hair and pulled on it for all you were worth, hearing a muffled chuckle from below. “Angel,” you heard next, his voice husky and breathless, “....watch the hair, huh?!” But needless to say, you ignored him. His tongue returned to the fray, and before you could even tug on his hair again your orgasm hit. You felt like you were about to pass out, seeing stars, then could hear a voice chanting his name over and over like a mantra. Oh okay, that was you. You tried to shut your mouth up but it just kept going.

Finally, your head sank right back into the pillows and a long, slow exhalation of breath left your lungs. Billy sat up after flicking his tongue over your pussy and thighs, carefully gathering up all of your juices before smirking at you as you stared back at him, still dazed. He was just getting his breath back, “Did your boyfriend eat you out till you were breathless, sweetheart? Hmmm? Is he a good boyfriend?” You nodded, still not really able to collate your thoughts into words. “Can’t speak, huh? I think your boyfriend needs a really big reward for that. But first he’s gonna give you somethin’ else to think ‘bout.”

His hard length was between your thighs in a heartbeat and he’d assertively guided himself inside you before you could take another breath. Your feet drew up until they were flat on the bed, knees raising themselves of their own accord. The intense feelings of pleasure rolled over you like breakers on the beach. Billy took hold of your ankles, balancing them on his shoulders with his hands going to your hips, pulling you even closer to him, kissing you passionately. One hand came up and laid itself on your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin. Your mouths parted and his forehead gently touched yours, then he began moving on you, setting a furious pace with his thrusting.

You gripped his biceps to start with, before heading back to your favourite place - his hair. Running your fingers through it, that made you happy for a little while until you grabbed some with each hand. Over the sighs and moans both of you were making, you heard a low laugh from Billy, “Gettin’ ready to pull my hair, angel?” You gasped as he thrust deeply while he spoke, then ground out “Yeah I am and you can just shut up, Russo,” between your teeth. “Don’t...” he said, breaking off to softly grunt as he thrust at the same time, “...leave me with bald patches, goddess,” he finished.

Which was just as well, because you thought he’d been about to tell you not to pull his hair! That would’ve been a very dangerous thing for Billy to do, ex-Marine or not. So you immediately began to tug on said hair, which brought great contentment to your soul, and you heard Billy’s soft laugh as you did so.

“M’gonna...come, angel,” you heard next, wrapped up in a breathy moan. His hand went to your clit, all the while hitting your sweet spot with each stroke. You could feel your climax building and building, and gave his hair one last loving pull as the orgasm slammed you. Billy fastened his teeth onto your neck where it met your shoulder and bit down, not too hard but still enough to make you yelp, and you felt him tense against you as he came. He collapsed onto you, huffing as he caught his breath before lowering your trembling legs to the bed. He rested his forehead on yours, kissing your nose.

“Holy hell,” he whispered, “that was mind-blowin’, angel.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

The two of you slept a little late the next morning, having a leisurely shower together before ordering a big breakfast to the room, your appetites being very healthy indeed after your exercise regime the previous night. The plates and coffee cups were soon clean as whistles.

You were lying on the bed, busy having a giggling fit as Billy peered into the big mirror while angling his head and parting his hair this way and that.

“I swear, angel, if I find even the tiniest bald patch....” but his eyes, meeting yours in the mirror, were twinkling with suppressed laughter. “Oh, Russo...” you gasped, breathless from laughing, “...you really are a big dork!” “Hey... this head of hair’s my crownin’ glory! If any’s missin’, I’ll need to get weaves! An’ you can pay for them!”

You had just launched into more giggles, when there was a loud knock at the door, followed by a gruff “S’Frank, open up Bill.” Scrambling to get into your hotel robe - which you’d earlier dropped on the floor so that Billy could smooth the hotel’s complimentary high-end body lotion over every inch of you - he started heading for the door but was looking over at you with a raised eyebrow. You hastily tied the belt round your waist and nodded at him. Luckily Billy had already been in his robe.

“Bill!” came Frank’s voice again, “...get your lazy ass out of bed and open the door!” “Yeah, yeah, Frankie,” Billy yelled back as he reached the door.

But then you noticed that Billy was holding a big black gun behind his back. Oh. Right. The seriousness of the situation last night came back to you, and a little splice of fear ran through you. But soon a big bear of a man was striding into the room, and him and Billy were exchanging manly shoulder grips. Yeah, you would guess they wouldn’t exactly be ‘huggy’ types. Then you saw Karen following in his wake with a big smile on her face, and you jumped up and rushed over to hug her.

Billy introduced you to Frank, and you returned the favour for him and Karen. More coffees were ordered, along with some toast (you were still peckish, okay?) and you all lounged around and chatted while you waited. The guys still couldn’t tell you two very much about the ‘op’, and Karen soon decided to start in on Billy.

“So, Billy,” she began, and he politely turned his head towards her, “....everything still fully intact downstairs?” nodding towards his crotch. Frank snorted, while Billy’s mouth opened and closed, then he looked beseechingly over at you, eyes wide, while you tried not to burst out laughing. Billy had actually gone quite pink, and you found this hilarious. Karen was a past master at this of course, ace reporter that she was. And you hadn’t seen or updated her since the Lunch Incident, so you relented and replied, “Yes, he still has all his equipment, Karen. Luckily for him, Billy was able to explain the situation to my satisfaction, otherwise he might’ve indeed been missing a couple of appendages at this moment.”

Frank snorted again, and Billy shot him an annoyed look before saying, “It was a misunderstandin’, Karen, an’ I fully explained it all.” You added, “He’d been stringing her along so these two were kept in the loop about the case. But then she came to the Chelsea café twice the next day, the second time to interrogate me about me and Billy’s relationship...” Frank butted in, smirking, “Never thought I’d hear the words ‘Billy’ and ‘relationship’ in the same sentence, lemme tell ya!” “Frankie!” yelled Billy, “look, will you all just stop givin’ me a hard time here!”

You and Karen grinned at each other, before you carried on, “So... during this little chat she was having with me, she told me her and Billy were dating.” Karen said, “No way!” “Yeah, she did. Obviously she was there just to find out what was going on between me and Billy! I went home afterwards, and Billy was still at his office. She headed straight over there and basically jumped him! He shoved her away and she fell over on her butt.” You all shared a grin at that. “Billy came over to mine and told me all about it.”

“Yeah,” put in Billy, “and then we both came over here the day of the op, and uhh... we were a little busy... I’m sure you know what I mean, when she came bustin’ in on us using a master key, then just stood watchin’ us for fuck knows how long. So I yelled at her to fuck off and she went.” His face was pink-tinged again, and he continued, “Then she turned up again last night, but knocked this time which was somethin’ I s’pose. Looked me over like a piece of meat cos I just had a towel wrapped round me.” He shook his head, “She’s unreal. Got a few screws loose,” twirling a finger next to his temple.

Karen smiled at him, “Nah, Billy - not crazy as such, but a woman scorned, y’know? Just think about it for a second. You must’ve really got her all stirred up, and then BAM!”, she yelled, and Billy jumped a little, “...you shut her down so fast her head must’ve been spinning.” He looked suitably chastised, and glanced guiltily over at you. “Now my girl here,” she carried on, pointing at you, “...when she saw you in that restaurant with another woman, she was gonna shut you down faster’n a jet engine on landing. Totally different approach with her. No stalking, no contact, no jumping you, she would’ve just cut your balls off and walked away.”

Billy squirmed in his armchair, looking wide-eyed at you. Even Frank looked slightly uncomfortable. “You know, you’re really lucky she gave you a second chance, Billy.” He gulped a little, “I know... I do know that, Karen. I was so dumb to string Madani along like that, but she made it obvious she was interested, so y’know, I...” he spread out his arms, “...thought I’d use it to my advantage and make sure we were kept in the loop.” He again looked over at you, regretfully, “Yeah, not my finest hour.”

But Karen still wasn’t finished, you could tell by the look on her face - “Relentless Terrier with Bone.”

“Would you have gone so far as to sleep with her?” she shot at him. Billy slouched back in his seat and looked down at his fingers, which were fidgeting in his lap. You knew that Karen was just trying to - she thought - get you some honest answers, but you decided it was time to bale him out. Billy looked like he was under attack from all angles, he wasn’t used to her interrogatory style. If it had been back in his Marine days, about a mission or troop movements or suchlike, it would’ve been a cakewalk for him, no doubt. But this was about relationships and feelings - not familiar territory for Billy in the slightest.

“We discussed that, K,” you replied to her, “..and yeah, he would have. For sure.”

“Before I met her,” Billy quickly added with an apologetic smile at you, before saying, “And before I met her, yeah - I’ll admit I would’ve sat back and let her jump my bones when she came visitin’ me at Anvil.”

You caught sight of Frank’s amazed face. He was looking at Billy as if he’d just fallen clear out of the sky into that armchair. His eyes suddenly met yours and you grinned at him, and he shook his head, laughing over at you, “Wow. Russo’s whipped!” “Shut it, Frankie,” grumbled Billy, but he had a small shit-eating grin on his face.

There was a knock at the door as the coffee and toast arrived, and Billy leapt up to answer it, looking relieved to be off the ‘witness stand.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

A couple of hours later, checkout completed, the four of you split up to head off in your various different directions.

You to Chelsea, Karen to a meeting uptown with a ‘source’ as she termed it, and the two guys to Homeland’s HQ for their final meeting with The Scorned Woman - as she would now forever be known to you and Karen - and which they couldn’t wait to get over and done with.

Billy - very aware of Frank and Karen watching as well as smirking close by - almost shyly pulled you to him and kissed you softly. However he couldn’t help himself and fairly soon his kiss became much more heated, one big hand snaking round the back of your neck as he nuzzled his face closer to yours. The two of you pulled apart eventually to a round of wolf whistles and catcalls from your so-called ‘friends’.

Billy was chuckling and running a hand distractedly through his hair as he let go of you. You flipped the two of them an affectionate finger along with a smile just as you spotted your Uber drawing to a halt outside the hotel entrance, and made a hasty exit into it, stage left.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Madani looked across her desk, firstly at Castle, then after a moment let her gaze slide over to Russo, lingering on him. He looks just divine today, she thought. She took in his shiny immaculate hair, sullen face, dark seductive eyes, sensual mouth and angular jaw covered with his trademark light beard. It looked to her like he’d shaved it down just a little bit - not that it had ever been thick - but she could definitely see more of his jawline. She watched as his long fingers slotted and unslotted themselves, his hands resting on the desktop. She then observed that he was dressed in a leather jacket, grey t-shirt, pair of black jeans and combat boots. Everything about the tall marine just screamed ‘sex’, she mused.

A tiny shiver went through her as she imagined those fingers running over her body, and despite the case being more or less closed, she knew she wouldn’t be giving up on this apparently lost cause anytime soon. She’d find some excuse about missing evidence or statements to call him back in, or something along those lines. He was too good a catch to let him escape, and she wasn’t prepared to allow that to happen. And Dinah Madani, as anyone who knew or worked with her soon found out, was one very determined lady.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

@blackbirddaredevil23 @galaxyjane @omgrachwrites @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead

[weirdochick56]

Mr. Evans- Chris Evans AU Chapter Seven

Teacher!Chris Evans x Student!Reader

Warnings: TeacherxStudent relationship. Slightly Underage reader x adult teacher. An almost-sexual-assault scene. If this triggers you please don’t read. Violence. (just a small fight scene)  Disclaimers: I don’t own CE or you. I don’t condone any relationship of this kind. This is for fictional and entertainment purposes only. 

A/N: Also, can we all just agree that if at any point a woman or anyone else says “no” or “stop”, you have to respect their wishes? CONSENT IS EVERYTHING PERIOD! Word Count:  4, 392 words

Read Chapter Six Here!!

*

(Gif isn’t mine!)

The thing you hated about parties the most was the fact that they never seemed to end.

Well, actually, that was the second thing you hated about them the most. The thing you actually hated the most about parties was having to dress up.

“God fuckin- Margo,” you groan, tugging at the soft fabric of your black cocktail dress.

“What?” She looks at you from the corner of her eye, gaze trained on the road ahead of her.

“This thing is too short.”

Laughing, your best friend shakes her head at your apprehensiveness. “You can not be serious, Y/n. That dress is like, six inches above your knees. Max. And it’s long at the back so...”

You lean back into the comfy seat of Margo’s sedan, grumbling. “I don’t like heels.”

She wiggles her brows. “They make your legs look great, though.”

You can’t argue the point with her any longer and hated to admit she was right. The strappy heels which wrapped all the way just below your knees and off-shoulder dress that hugged your top but spread out at the bottom required a considerable amount of cash from your father's bank account but looked really good on you.

The style was so far from your usual jeans and sneakers minimalist fashion but tonight you actually looked...pretty.

But that was just you. Margo insisted that you always looked pretty. The only difference tonight was that you looked “extremely fuckable.”

Not your favorite choice of wording but fair enough.

While getting ready, you’d asked her to go easy on the makeup (which she did not want to do) in exchange for you to let her do whatever she wanted to your hair.

She’d reluctantly agreed, only applying a thick layer of mascara to your lashes, shimmering eyeshadow to your lids and a pink-tinted lip gloss.

She didn’t do as much as you would’ve thought with the hair though, opting to curl it all instead of the crazy up-do you’d been expecting. The curls were big and loose and sexy. You looked bold and sophisticated and for once you felt good about your appearance.

“So this party,” you start. “How long is it gonna last?”

“Oh. As long as you want it to, baby.” She smirks in that typical Margo fashion that made you uneasy as hell.

“Oh no,” you groan softly under your breath.

Tonight was going to be a disaster, you just knew it.

*

Jenna Miller’s mansion was huge. Huge as in it may actually have been an entire estate.

The music was loud and even as you made your way up the steps of the front lawn, your feet still vibrated with the strong bass of “Pumped Up Kicks” by Foster The People.

You almost hold back a wince at the multiple couples on the literal brink of having sex right then and there. Almost.

Margo, who wore a tight red dress showing off all her incredible curves and monstrous black heels, hugged you to her, puckering her ruby red lips. “C’ mon Y/n. Stop being such a prude. A little kissing never hurt anyone.”

You laugh at her incredulously, pointing to a nearby couple practically dry-humping eachother. “That is not kissing. That is full-on sex.”

She smirks. “You mind now, but I’m sure if it was a certain English teacher kissing you, you wouldn’t mind in the least.”

You flush almost immediately at the sound of Mr. Evans and kissing in the same sentence, gulping a lump in your throat. If only she knew.

“Let’s just go in, yeah?” You rasp, walking in ahead of her.

She mumbles something about you “acting weird lately” under her breath but follows you all the same.

The inside of the house is not much better than the outside, with people drinking and hollering loudly. Some are making out in various places of the living area and most are just dancing like crazy.

You link your arms with Margo almost instinctively, your social anxiety kicking in at the overwhelming sight. I should’ve stayed home watching the rest of the third season of Breaking Bad, you think regretfully.

Margo smiles down at you softly. patting your hand reassuringly. “It’ll be okay, Y/n. Just relax. I’ll be here with you every step of the way.”

The third thing you hated most about parties happened to be that Margo thrived in them. 

Which meant it’d hadn’t even when an hour before she’d gone to get you drinks that she’d been surrounded by a crowd of her other friends, obscuring your view of her except for her head as another crowd of sweaty teens came in, blocking her off completely.

This immediately makes you anxious and you push your way through the crowd but it’s almost impossible. A string of “excuse me’s” and “sorry’s” follow close behind as you practically shove people away in desperate search of your friend, but when you make it to the other side where Margo had previously been in, she was gone.

You look around the immediate premise for her a bit more, but she’s nowhere to be found. You just hope she’ll eventually make her way back to where you’d been last.

You assumed she’d gone off to mingle and didn’t want to interrupt whatever socially-strengthening experience she was having right now. Just because you were incapable of holding a casual conversation with others doesn’t mean you had the right to hold her back from doing so. You were already enough baggage as it was.

So you sigh, throwing yourself back onto the couch you had found in a dark corner. You hoped no one else happened to stumble upon it in the time it took Margo to come back.

Time ticked by torturously by. You watched a game of beer pong going on in front of you and laughed along to some of the stupidities the dares these kids had come up with. Somewhere nearby, a clearly not-sober girl had begun a striptease to the tune of “Partition” by Beyoncé. Guys hollered and you gasped, about to go save the poor girl’s dignity before another girl quickly steps in and takes the girl off the table, giving her her shirt back and using it to cover her as she tugged her away. 

So there you are, bored out of your fucking mind, playing random games on your phone and trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible. It's been twenty minutes already when you feel the spot on the couch next to you sink.

Looking over, you raise a brow at who’s decided to sit next to you. He smiles that well-known charming smile of his and you suddenly realize why every girl in your school is in love with him.

“Hey,” James greets you warmly.

James McDaniels. Typical fuckboy. Hot as hell, dangerously charming and your town’s resident golden boy. The son of some big CEO who’d moved from another town down south, everyone believes he’ll make it to play football professionally.

But that’s beside the point. Why was the most attractive/popular guy in school talking to...you?

“Um...hi?” Rather than a greeting, you sound like you’re questioning yourself. You don’t wait for him to respond before you turn your attention back to your phone.

“Want a drink?” he draws your attention back to him, offering you a red solo cup.

You look at the cup then slowly trail your eyes from his hand to his -quite honestly- muscular arm to his handsome face which is pleasantly curved into an eye-blindingly sexy smile.

Immediately, your defenses go up and you shake your head disinterestedly. “No thank you. I don’t take drinks from strangers.”

He chuckles lightly, clicking his tongue. “I didn’t spike it if that’s what you’re thinking. Not that kind of guy, princess.”

His voice is incredibly attractive. Raspy and smooth and he has the hint of a southern accent which somehow makes it all the more attractive.

You finally look at him, putting our phone away in your clutch.

James McDaniels is not your type at all. He’s not dumb per se, but he’s not exactly an intellectual either.

And most importantly, he’s not Mr. Evans...

His eyes were a pretty hazel but they weren’t that gorgeous baby blue that occasionally turned into a deep aqua blue you loved so much. His hair was a dark brown, not a light dirty blonde you always have the urge to run your fingers through. His face was freshly-shaven and didn’t have the hints of a beard you utterly loved scratching your face. And his lips were nice, but they weren't Mr. Evans’s lips.

The thoughts infuriate you. Why are you still thinking about Mr. Evans, Y/n? That was a one-time thing and it was never even meant to happen. It’ll never happen again anyways. He’ll never be able to be with you in the real world. Wake up.

Shocking even yourself, you take the cup from James’s hand with a small smile. “Thanks.” And then you throw it back, drinking its contents in one go.

Immediately, you start coughing erratically, the alcohol burning your throat intensely. James laughs, patting your back lightly.

“Not used to drinking, I assume?”

You smile lightly at him, wiping your mouth. “Nope.” You frown. “What was that?”

He shrugs, downing his own drink easily. He crushes the cup in his hand and throws it over his shoulder. “Vodka maybe? Who even cares? It’s good, right?”

You find yourself smiling lightly, nodding along. “Yep.”

He smirks mischievously. “Wanna get more?”

You nibble on your lip, considering the offer lightly. It sounds fucked up, but for a few seconds, you were able to forget about Mr. Evans and the torture of not being able to ever really have him. You felt...good. Numb. So nothing, really. But that still was better than feeling the pain. You wanted to feel like that forever.

Plus, James McDaniels didn’t seem like bad company. You’d be cautious anyways.

You smirk at him. “Yes, please.”

*

Needless to say, as someone not used to drinking at all, your body did not grow accustomed to the alcohol that was constantly flowing into it fast enough whatsoever. 

It started out casual, but over time you’d become less and less defensive about the drinking, simply craving the feeling the alcohol gave you. The freedom from the memory of Mr. Evan’s lips on yours it offered you.

You were a lightweight and before you knew it, you were drunk.

Everything felt so much better when you didn’t feel like yourself. Even James, who you had no particular interest in became much more interesting with the alcohol. 

He was nice and flirty and over the time you’d spent conversing, he’d slowly moved in closer to you, expressing his interest in you with little brushes on your shoulder and face and legs...

You barely noticed, too lost in the euphoric feeling of the alcohol currently coursing through your system. Your muscles were loose and your smile came easy and you’d never felt so careless and free.

Margo never really made her way back to you but you were too buzzed to give a shit.

“So I fell off the fucking bleachers and landed on my ass,” James finishes his story and you can’t help but snort, quickly falling into a fit of giggles thereafter.

You don’t even know why you’re laughing so much, it’s not even that funny but you can’t help it. 

You calm down enough to ask, “oh my God, you really let that tiny guy shove you like that? For a girl?”

He shrugs with a soft smile, caressing your arm softly then looking into your eyes sincerely. “For the right girl, yeah. Sure princess.”

You can’t help but scoff, downing your tenth to eleventh vodka shot of the night.

“What?” James chuckles a bit confusedly.

You look at him with a grin. “Nothing, it’s just...you’re good.”

He raises a brow. “Good?”

You nod enthusiastically. “Yeah. Dangerously good. I mean c’ mon! ‘For the right girl, sure’?!” You huff. “That has got to be the cheesiest line I’ve ever heard!”

He smiles in a cute sheepish way that you suspect might also be rehearsed.

“Did it work at least?”

Feeling strangely bold, you smile flirtingly at him, slowly leaning in close enough to have your lips brush slightly. Your chest pressed against his, your finger makes a small trajectory from the sharp line of his jaw to his neck, chest, abs then lower... lower... it stops just above his belt.

You bite your lip seductively, looking into his eyes from underneath your lashes.

“Hm...” you hum softly, watching as his breath falters and his pupils dilate with desire. His lips part and his lids drop halfway.

“No.”

You lean back with a smug smirk on your face, almost bursting into uncontrollable laughter at the look in his face. He looked so disappointed. Your humor grows uneasy, though, when you think you think you see a pissed look flash across his face. It’s gone just as fast as it came and you wondered if you were imagining it when he laughs loudly along with you.

Shaking your head, you get up, slightly wobbling on your own two legs. You giggle at this.

“Where are you going?” James frowns up at you.

You smirk. “Calm down, dad. I'm going to piss, I’ll be back.”

You spin on your heels, almost tripping in the process and make your way to the back patio in an utterly clumsy manner. Truth be told, you just needed to breathe a little. All those people pushing up on you was suffocating. The heat was unbearable.

Stumbling your way outside, you take notice that the place was practically empty and sigh in relief. Silently, you take your phone out of your clutch. Typing quickly, you press Margo’s contact and write her a text message.

To: Bestie❤

Hey, where the hell are you? You better not be drunk cuz I’m hammered and you’re our driver.

You laugh stupidly at the text and it only takes a few seconds before she answers.

From: Bestie❤

Shit. I tried calling you, Y/n! After we got separated I was pulled off to talk and a few minutes later I got a call from my mom that there was a family emergency I had to leave for. I tried looking for you too, but you were nowhere to be found so I assumed you’d left.

I’m soooo sorry, babe!

You frown down at your phone. Crap.

“Shit!” You curse into the cool night but before you know what’s happening, the alcohol seeps into your brain, dismissing any coherent thought you could have. Soon, you find yourself shrugging dismissively and going back into your contacts in search of someone to call to come to pick you up.

“Dad? No, he does not know I’m here and we’d like to keep it that way, thank you very much,” you mumble to yourself. The rest of your contacts are Margo and fast food services and restaurants. 

“Should I call Dylan from Dominoes to come to pick me up?” You snort at your own little joke feeling careless as shit. “Hm...it’s times like these I wish I had more friends.” You sigh, about to give up on when you suddenly stumble across an unexpected contact name.

“Mr. Evans? When did I get his number?” You let out a small confused sound then smirk mischievously, a dumb idea suddenly popping up in your brain.

“Hm, doesn’t matter either way. I can have some fun with this.” You squeal excitedly and without a second thought, press on the contact name and put the phone to your ear, biting your lip to hold back the excitement equivalent to that of a five-year-old child on Christmas morning.

The plan was no plan, really. You just had a sudden urge to call him. To hear him. You felt so brave doing this.

It takes three full rings before he answers, his voice raspy and sexy with sleep.

“Hello?”

You can’t help but laugh, biting your lip even harder to suppress an inexplicable enthusiasm within you.

“What the-” you hear shifting for a second and assume it’s him moving the phone away from his face before he puts it back on, his voice suddenly more alert. “Y/n? What the hell is going on? It’s two in the morn-”

“You’re hot,” you impulsively blurt, immediately covering your mouth afterward.

“What?” You can hear him moving around as you giggle.

“You are. Like, stupid hot. You’re like out-of-this-world hot. I mean, you must know that right? Someone that looks like you do has to know they’re stupidly attractive, no?”

“Wh-”

“And you’re smart. Oh! A-and kind. Actually, you might be the kindest human being I know. It’s kind of funny actually. You are the one person I want to hate the most. But you’re literally impossible to hate.” You giggle. “Impossi-bleh. Ha. That’s a funny word. Impossi-bleh.”

“Y/n, are you drunk?”

You ignore his question, babbling off with a slur in your words. “It’s not fair you know? How can one person be so perfect? And why does that same person happen to be the only one I want but can’t be with?” Your voice grows softer towards the end, cautiously tender. 

He doesn’t respond at first so you continue, your voice strained with pain and utter desperation. “A-and why did you have to kiss me? That just ruined everything, ya’ know!? I was fine with having a stupid crush on my stupid English teacher because I was convinced it’d go away. But then-” you swallow the sudden and painful lump in your throat. “B-but then you kissed me, and that just ruined fucking everything!” You whine like a little girl. 

He sighs dejectedly over the phone. “Where are you, sweetheart? I’ll come to get you.”  

You laugh humorlessly, your mood abruptly turning sour. “See? This is exactly what I’m talking about! Here I am telling you I literally hate how fucking perfect you are and here you are, saying shit like that and being all concerned for my wellbeing.” 

He sighs exasperatedly. “Sweetheart-”

“Stop calling me that!” You find yourself screaming hysterically into the phone, your grip on it tightening before you speak again. “You can’t call me that and assume it means nothing.”

“Okay, okay. Y/n,” he corrects himself gently. “Can you just tell me where you are so I can come to get you?”

You huff into the phone. “James is nice, you know? And cute. And he likes touching me a lot. I don’t really like it, but he brings me drinks so I guess it’s okay.” You giggle, shrugging and disregarding the fact that no one could see you.

“Oh no,” he mumbles worriedly. “Y/n can you please just tell me where you’re-”

“Anyways,” you cut him off. “I’m going to go back to drinking and forgetting about your stupid lips now Mr. Evans. Bye!”

“No! Y-” He tries to protest but doesn’t get to finish before you end the call, heading back inside with a small smile on your face.

That’ll show him, you think triumphantly.

Once you’ve made your way clumsily back inside, a red plastic solo cup is already waiting for you. You grin, walking over and sitting next to James excitedly.  

He smiles lazily and swiftly moves his hand to rest on your knee.

You paid it no mind, opting instead to squeal as “Toxic” by Britney Spears came on.

“I love this song!” You grin excitedly.

James gets up, offering you his hand and motioning to the dance floor where a bunch of people were already dancing. 

He smirks. “Would you give me the absolute pleasure of letting me take you out to dance, princess?”

You giggle softly, shaking your head. “Oh. I can’t dance.”

He raises his brows. “I can’t either.”

You laugh a bit and reluctantly place your hand in his. “Fine.”

He pulls you to him, placing a hand dangerously close to your butt and leading you to the dance floor.

Immediately, you’re squished together with James, the bodies of sweaty drunk teens sliding up next to you. Usually, you’d be gagging with disgust, but you just didn’t care right now.

James wraps his hands around your waist, pushing your hips to move. You look up at him weirdly for a second but your mind is far too fuzzy to even care about what he’s making you do, so you begin to dance as he instructs.

The music was far too irresistible to your intoxicated ears and you couldn’t hold back from moving your hips along to the beat, letting your hair be free in its movement. 

It doesn’t take long and frankly, you barely notice when you spin around and begin grinding on James, brushing your ass against his crotch and kissing his neck teasingly light.

He pulls you close to him, thick arm wrapped tightly around your waist and hips still moving against you.

“I knew behind all that good girl act you put up you’re actually a freak in the sheets, princess,” he rasps sultrily in your ear.  

Something about that doesn’t rub you right, even in your drunk state and you immediately cease your movements, looking up at him. “Let me go, please. I’d like to sit down.”

He frowns. “What? Why? We were having such a good time, princess. I like you and I know you like me.” He leans down, kissing your neck softly.

You don’t like the feeling and immediately shove him away, stumbling back on your unstable legs and heels. “What the hell makes you think that?” You snap drunkenly.

He laughs incredulously, reaching out for you again. “Uh, maybe the fact that you were practically flirting with me the entire night?”

You purse your lips, recognizing how that might’ve looked on your behalf. It’s just...you’d never really felt powerful and sexy and the alcohol gave you the courage you’d never had otherwise to express your sexuality. 

You were still sticking to your plan though. And giving your virginity to a guy like James McDaniels was not your plan. 

“Hey, James. I’m really sorry if I g-gave you any reason to believe this was going to go any further than what just happened.”

You struggle to stand upright and suddenly it occurs to you that James didn’t look all that drunk despite having been bringing you drinks all night.

“I-I think I’m just gonna go.” You point shakily over your shoulder, unable to keep from laughing at the stupidity of, well, you.  

At that moment, the same pissed off look you thought you’d been imagining before comes onto James’s face again, and this time it doesn’t leave.

“The hell you are, you big tease. You’re were the one who started this. And now you’re going to finish it,” he growls, gripping your wrist tightly, his fingers digging into your skin and making it abundantly clear he didn’t plan on letting you go.

You immediately tug at your wrist, shaking your head firmly. “Let me go, James.”

He grins darkly. “No can do, princess. You got me all ready for action and now you’re going to come through whether you like it or not.” 

And just like that, he starts dragging you away toward the staircase where the bedrooms were situated, you assume.

An uneasy feeling grips your gut painfully tight. He looks like he means it. 

“James! I’m serious, let me go!” You tug harder to no avail as his nails dig deeper into the skin of your wrist. You yelp in pain. “Someone help!” No one seems to even notice you, too lost in their little worlds. Your panic intensifies and your heart starts racing at an erratic pace. “Please James, let go of me!” He spins around in a fit, gripping your jaw bruisingly tight.

Panic takes over your mind, but you’re weak in your intoxicated state and not a match for the football player’s strength.

“Listen, slut, either you shut your trap or it’ll be worse for you. That’s a promise.” He roughly shoves your face back. 

But he doesn’t get a chance to spin back around and tug you into your worst nightmare before a fist comes crashing down into his jaw.

James groans in pain at the powerful attack, falling on his back with a hard crack.

You gasp, holding a horrified hand to your mouth as the figure, who you now realize is wearing a dark hoodie and sunglasses hiding his identity, straddles James and begins punching the living hell out of him.

Fist after fist strikes the harasser in the face, painful groans and yelps leaving his mouth whilst your aggressive savior only lets out breathy grunts and under-his-breath mumbles when his fists make contact with James’s face.

And although you were thankful to have been saved, blood was spraying on your legs and you knew if this continued, he’d kill him.

James begins picking himself up, though, landing some blows of his own. The stranger barely grunts in pain upon impact, his blows to James becoming twice as powerful as before and pummelling his fists down on him.

People quickly gather around you three, creating a huge crowd of people recording the fight and a string of “oohs” from multiple of them. No one steps in to stop them from killing eachother though.

Suddenly feeling sober, you jump in, gripping the stranger’s bicep tightly in your small hands. “Hey! Hey, stop! Stop it! That’s enough!”

At the sound of your voice, the stranger instantly stops the assault and gets up, gripping your arm firmly without a word. The grip was not enough to hurt you, but enough to easily sweep you out of the house, past the probing crowd and down the front lawn. 

You stumble along in your heels, still trying to make sense of everything that just happened.

“Hey!” You scream at him. “Where- ah!”

But before your still-buzzed mind can place exactly what it is that’s happening, the man is picking you up bridal style.

You squeak a little, wrapping your arms around his neck to stabilize yourself.

“What the hell, dude!? You just saved me from a scum-bag and now you’re-”

“Damn it, sweetheart. We need to get out of here!”

You freeze. You’d recognize that voice anywhere.

“Mr. Evans?” you breathe.

Read Chapter Eight Here!!

***

Hehehe... Told ya’ shit was gonna go down this chapter...

A Special Thanks To:  ( I apologize for those of you I said I’d tag, but didn’t. I’m bad at keeping track of things. So please if you’re not here when I said you’d be, let me know!)

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And of course my forevers!

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@mogaruke

[gimmesumsuga]

Sweeter than Sweet (60)

Pairings: Jimin x reader, Yoongi x reader, Jimin x Yoongi, Namjoon x reader, Taehyung x reader + others as the story progresses

Warnings: Degradation, m x m touching, fingering, anal play, mild dom/sub undertones, multiple orgasms, double penetration, anal sex, messy blood drinking/sharing, daddy kink (not necessarily all in that order lol)

Word count: 6.6K

Previous / Next

Gif credit @andreaslazarV

It’s too much; too much, and yet not nearly enough.  

Your hips move restlessly under the ministrations of both men, chasing after their fingers each time they withdraw, pushing them deeper - harder - into each of your greedy orifices.  Pelvic floor clenching, your velvety walls squeeze both Jimin’s and Yoongi’s fingers in turn like you’re trying to drag them further in, and you hear Jimin chuckle lowly at your wanton behaviour.  

“How does that feel, kitten?” he asks, the hand that had been resting in the dip of your back now sliding upwards to fix in the tresses of your hair, teasing through it.  You mewl into the sheets that you’re clinging onto in response, no longer capable for forming coherent words.  “Are you ready for more?”  You force yourself to lift your head, nodding, lips parted with silent pleasure, and as soon Jimin witnesses your feeble attempt at conveying consent you feel another finger probing at your hole.  

One becomes two, a broken cry of pleasure-pain pouring out of you as Yoongi pushes it inside, knuckles deep.  There’s a deep burn as he drags them back and forth, a searing heat that flashes through your pelvis every time he scissors them open to make room, but every time you think it’s too much or start to doubt your ability to tolerate such an insistent, unrelenting assault, Jimin merciful touch is right there to soothe the pain; the pressing of his fingertips to the most sensitive part of your anatomy distracting almost entirely from any discomfort that you might feel, and the curling of his digits inside of you inciting far more moans of pleasure than any of pain.  

“Shit, you’re so tight,” Yoongi’s husky voice declares from where he remains knelt behind you.  He withdraws both his fingers to almost the tip and then plunges them back inside to make you keen, pressing your face into the mattress.  “Relax a little, gongjunim. ”

“That’s easy for you to sa-ay,” you grit back as you body struggles to come to terms with the conflicting sensations from either side of your perineum.  It’s not as if you and Jimin have never dabbled anally - you’ve most definitely put Taehyung’s anal beads to good use since commandeering them - but nothing could have prepared you for the sensation of Yoongi’s fingers moving inside of you there; probing, curling, stretching.  

There’s a look that’s exchanged between the two boys when you stutter out another groan a moment later, and though you may not be able to see the meaning behind it you certainly feel their intentions as Yoongi’s tongue presses to the tight bud that sits swollen below Jimin’s fingers.  As you arch your back, your fingers dragging through the bedsheets, you start to wonder if they mean to kill you with kindness, so sweet a torture is it to be assaulted by all three sensations at once.  

Yoongi proves to be a skilled multi-tasker.  Even as he laps at the juices that flow from your core out onto Jimin’s fingers and onto his tongue, his fingers never cease their motion back and forth.  He teases you open millimetre by millimetre as Jimin watches on, matching the pace of his fingers to Yoongi’s slimmer ones as they thrust inside.  

“Oh god,” you gasp as a third digit starts to wriggle inside alongside the others, pelvic muscles contracting at the further intrusion.  

“Full?” Jimin enquires from behind you, voice thick with lust.  You nod into the mattress, pushing back against their varying appendages as your body finally starts to adjust to the unfamiliar sensation.  There’s no pain now, only pleasure, and you want more.  Jimin chuckles lowly at your silent reply, his free hand coming down to press on the small of your back, forcing it to bend and push your ass further up into the air as his hand picks up speed.  He’s so rough that the motion of his curled fingers slipping out of you keeps tugging you backwards to make the back of your thigh slap against his leg again and again, pulling you onto Yoongi’s eager mouth. “How full do you think it’ll feel when you’re taking both our cocks, hm?”  

Yoongi’s fervent licks against your clitoris turn into deep-throated growl of excitement against your sex on hearing that.  He grabs a hold of your thigh with his one remaining hand, short fingernails scraping your flesh as his teeth do the same, a strangled sound pouring out of you as hot white pleasure shoots up your spine, nearing your limit.

“Do you think you can, kitten?”  Jimin continues, wetting his lips as your velvet walls contract around his fingers.  He can feel Yoongi’s ministrations too, every push and pull, and it’s driving him so far to distraction that it’s becoming difficult not to rush.  “Are you sure it’s what you want?”  Yoongi’s sucking on your clit now, flicking the tip of his tongue against it, and you can feel yourself nearing the precipice, ready to fall head first into the ecstasy that awaits you.  

“Please, p-please,” you ramble into the blanket, muscles coiled tighter than a spring, shoulders bunched, fingers clenching.  “Please, Jimin-daddy-oh -please!”  You feel no shame whatsoever in begging; for release, for them to take you and claim you, fill you so full that you might never feel complete again after they’re through with you.  

“That’s it kitten,” Jimin coos, hand slipping from the small of your back to cup your ass, pulling the cheek to the side to better watch your hole contract around Yoongi’s pale fingers when you cum.  “Cum for daddy.”  Yoongi hums his agreement around your spit-slick nub, and that’s all it takes to finally send you spiralling into oblivion.  

You’re a trembling, writhing mess as pleasure rips through you, crying out your release into the bedding as your orgasm spills out onto Jimin’s fingers, all over Yoongi’s nose and lips and chin, and as it starts to subside your breaths are shuddering on your exhales, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes.  

It stings as Yoongi’s fingers withdraw, an involuntary hiss leaving you at the feeling.  You feel utterly boneless now, so very relaxed as you ride the remaining endorphin high of your orgasm; so much so that your two lovers could probably manipulate into any position they wish.

“Princess?”  You feel the bed dip on either side of you, two bodies coming to join you atop of the covers, and when you finally manage to turn your head to the side and open your eyes you see Yoongi kneeling by your side, fly still hanging open, his dark eyes full of concern.  “Alright?”  You hum happily, reaching out and brushing your fingers against the denim of his jeans as Jimin’s find your hair and stroke it back from your forehead.  

“Of course she is,” he answers for you, tone affectionate and warm.  “Stand up for me, kitten.”  Slowly, you push yourself up onto your elbows and then straighten, standing on wobbly legs at the end of the bed on which the two men are now knelt.  

Each of them take a hand and assist you onto the mattress, the three of you crawling up towards the pillows exchanging kisses along the way.  Jimin lays you back gently, his lips firmly attached to yours until your back hits the mattress.  He pulls away before you can wind your fingers into his hair to keep him close and nip at his soft, wicked mouth, kneeling back instead and smiling cockily at your hum of displeasure.  

Yoongi’s taken the opportunity to start undressing himself whilst he's been sat by your feet watching the two of you kiss, and his shirt is already long gone - cast aside somewhere on the floor.  His nipples are hard, one of them blushed pink thanks to Jimin's earlier torment, and when he catches your eyes drifting over his body he flashes you a timid smile, eyes twinkling with mirth.  

“C’mere,” you beckon softly, rocking your hips from side to side, the wetness between them making your thighs glide pleasantly against one another.  Yoongi quickly finishes undressing before joining you and Jimin further up the bed, and you're pleased to note that he's rock hard again even following his earlier orgasm - more than ready to fulfill whatever role the younger boy has in mind for him.  

Jimin hasn't been able to keep his hands off of your body while your attention has been on Yoongi; one greedy hand roaming restlessly across the swell of your breasts, plucking at your nipples and pressing the heel of the other against the erection straining painfully inside his shorts, desperate for much needed release.  

You pull your lips away from Yoongi’s hungry kiss, twisting your neck to see Jimin kneeling above the two of you.  

“Jimin,” you whine, biting your bottom lip as you reach up to run your hand over the crotch of his shorts, brushing against his length as Yoongi’s lips trail along the length of your neck, his hand caressing the curve of your hip. “Please,” you prompt with a singular tug at his shorts.  Jimin’s eyes flutter closed for just a second as you touch him, his full lips pressing together as he struggles to maintain control and not give in to the lust that threatens to overwhelm him.   He gently takes a hold of your hand and moves it away, opening his eyes.

“So impatient,” Jimin purrs as you smile coyly, letting out a little moan as Yoongi’s teeth nibble at your earlobe, his erection grinding into your side as his hips move restlessly beside you.  There’s a smirk on Jimin’s face as he tugs off his t-shirt and tosses it aside to join the numerous other articles of clothing strewn along the floor, and he takes a moment to run his hand through the silver stands of his hair before starting on his shorts, chuckling at the way you devour every inch of his toned body.  It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve seen Jimin naked before now, it always affects you just the same, quickening your pulse and making you blush as he slips off his shorts, commando underneath.  

The absence of Yoongi’s lips on your neck gives you pause to turn your head and look at him, and when you do you see that his eyes are fixed entirely on Jimin, travelling the length of the other boys body up and down.  This is the first time Yoongi’s ever been quite blatant in his admiration of Jimin; the last time the three of you had been together the older boy had more or less kept his eyes and attention completely on you, maybe for fear that he’d give himself away if he’d let his gaze roam unchecked.  Now that it’s all out in the open Yoongi can’t seem to help but look, his pupils dilating as they linger on Jimin’s swollen cock, tongue poking at the corner of his lips.  

Jimin gives himself a few practice strokes, well aware of Yoongi’s stare and seemingly spurred on by it, his breath a little heavier as he gathers his precum on the pad of his thumb and smears it over the head.  You reach down between yours and Yoongi’s bodies to start to stroke him through his boxer shorts in time with Jimin’s fist, peppering kisses along his prominent collarbones and dipping your tongue into shallow indent at the base of his neck.  

“Can I?”  Yoongi’s husky voice rumbles against your lips as it passes through his throat, and the feel of his hand leaving your hip to move elsewhere makes you believe he must’ve had some sort of an affirmative reply even if you didn’t hear it.  Jimin’s breath hitches behind you, and the subsequent back and forth motion of Yoongi’s arm and the accompanying fleshy sounds make it all too easy to discern what’s going on.  It’s impossible for you to resist taking a look, no longer laying kisses on Yoongi’s neck in favour of being able to watch the tight grip of his hand gliding up and down Jimin’s cock.  The younger boy has got one hand resting on the flat of his stomach, fingernails digging into his abs as his fingers tense and relax under Yoongi’s touch, his eyes pressed tightly closed and lips slightly parted.  

You roll over to face Jimin, unable to resist the urge to touch him too. Your hand reaches out to join Yoongi’s to move simultaneously back and forth Jimin’s length, no inch of velvety skin left untouched.

“F-fuck,” Jimin groans as he watches your hands pleasuring him in unison, Yoongi’s long, delicate fingers almost overlapping your shorter ones as they stroke, and it makes you smile to see him lose some of that carefully maintained composure.  “God.”  Jimin slumps as another curse leaves his lips, curling in on himself to grab onto the pillow next to your head, head flopping forward, and you hear Yoongi exhale a short chuckle behind you.  You’re sure if you turned your head you’d be able to see him smirking, but as it is your eyes are fixed on Jimin and the tormented pleasure on his face.  

“Does that feel good, daddy?” you smile as you echo his earlier words,  wiggling your ass back against Yoongi to make him push right back, the thickness of his cock pressing into the crack of your ass as he nips at the shell of your ear.  Having Yoongi alongside you as a playmate - a partner in mischief - is bringing out your playful side, and you’re sincerely enjoying having the upper-hand on Jimin for once, revelling in the way he’s been momentarily rendered helpless by the two of you.

You slow down the pace of your hand and Yoongi follows your lead, your strokes laguid but purposeful, allowing Jimin to catch his breath.  

“Oppa, ” you say softly, and Yoongi hums against the back of shoulder he’s busy kissing, “Fuck me?”  You watch Jimin’s face carefully as you speak, stomach fluttering with nervous butterflies as you test the waters, wanting to see how far you can push before your lover snaps.  “My pussy aches so bad.  Won’t you help me?”  Yoongi chest rumbles with a growl, his hand falling away from the other mans cock to rid himself of his boxers as Jimin’s jaw ticks.  

You pick up speed in Yoongi’s absence in an attempt to keep Jimin subdued, smiling to yourself at the way his cock twitches in your hand, and when you lift your leg to allow Yoongi to place his length in the gap between your thighs Yoongi grabs onto your hips and immediately begins to move, not yet pushing inside but sliding back and forth through your slick with a groan.  The repetitive motion has the head of his cock rubbing over your over-sensitive clitoris again and again, and soon enough you’re pushing back against him with stilted little moans, the need to be filled and fucked more than genuine.  

“Is this what you want, princess?”  Yoongi huffs into your ear as your fist pumps up and down Jimin’s length, gripping hard, your eyes shut tight as you focus on the throbbing of your centre and the slip and slide of Yoongi thrusting between your thighs.  

“Yes, please,” you groan, biting your lip as Yoongi digs his fingertips into your hip, grabbing at you for better leverage.  

“In here?”  Your walls clench, a fresh gush of arousal seeping out onto Yoongi’s cock as it nudges at your core and his mouth moves closer to your ear, his voice low but coloured with amusement as he continues, “Or maybe here, hmm?  What do you think, sir?”  He suddenly withdraws from between your legs before Jimin has chance to reply, pushing the blunt head of his cock against your asshole.  “Shall I fuck her tight little virgin ass?”  You gasp as he he starts to apply to slightest of pressure, very nearly edging his way inside until he’s suddenly pushed away, hand yanked off of your hip.  

“That’s mine,” Jimin growls ferociously, grabbing onto your arm that’d been so busy pleasuring him and using it to shove you down onto your front.  You get the briefest glimpse of his face before you’re face down in the pillows, and his eyes are hard, full of lust, his mouth set in a hard line.  “You’re forgetting your place, boy.   Carry on and see what happens if you keep pushing me.”  Jimin’s hand is twisted in your hair as he speaks and you feel him moving to take position behind you, shoving open your legs with a rough hand so they’re spread open before him.  He leans over you, the head of his cock knocking against the curve of your ass as he hisses in your ear.  “You too, kitten.  Do you think daddy’s going to take it easy on you now, huh?”  No, you don’t, but that’s exactly what you wanted.  

You cry out as Jimin’s hand connects harshly with your buttock, the slap echoing off the walls.  It throbs fiercely, stinging all the more as Jimin digs his fingertips into your ass to pull the cheeks apart, exposing you fully and you mewl and twist your hips as he rubs the head of his cock against your hole.  

“Safeword?” he demands, and when you repeat it back to him in quivering tones he grunts, satisfied. “Lube,” Jimin growls and you feel a fresh batch of nerves flare up inside of you, twisting at your insides.  

You know Jimin wouldn’t hurt you - even if he acts as though he would when he’s all riled up - but you also know he’s gifted with a length much girthier in width than Yoongi’s slender fingers, and that has your body tensing anxiously, shoulders bunching as you grip your pillow tight.  You can hear movement behind you and the sound of a bottle cap opening again, just like before, and you almost leap up from the bed when cold gel is squeezed liberally onto your hole without warning.

“Did you really think,” Jimin begins as his fingertips start to massage the lube into you, dipping inside the tight ring of muscle that Yoongi had already stretched out earlier, “That you'd get to fuck her first?”  You realise he’s speaking to Yoongi, taunting him as he pushes his fingers inside, making way for his cock.  A muffled cry is absorbed by your pillow as he pumps them in and out and Jimin‘s breathing heavily behind you as he preps himself, coating his length with even more lube.  “You’re gonna have to watch,” he groans as he presses the tip against your hole and begins to ease slowly inside even as your muscles automatically contract to try and keep him out, “Watch as I take what’s mine.”  

Your knuckles are turning white, teeth gritted together as Jimin applies steady pressure, one hand on your waist, squeezing tight.  You can hear the tension in his voice - feel it in his body resting behind you - and you know he’s going as slowly as possible so as not to hurt you, despite the things he’s saying.  

“And if you’re good, baby boy, maybe I’ll let you fuck her with me.”

You never knew it'd feel like this.  Yoongi's fingers were one thing but Jimin's cock is something else entirely, and a dull pain simmers and burns through you as your body stretches to accommodate his girth.  It's not unmanageable - just intense - and once the extra-sensitive rim of the head of his cock passes past the unwilling muscle of your entrance it's suddenly oh so good, the rest of his silken length sinking steadily inside with ease.  

“Da-addy,” you whimper as Jimin bottoms out, the seat of his lap meeting the curve of your buttocks.  Opening your eyes you see Yoongi looking back at you, a tender look on his face as he reaches out to run his thumb along your cheek.  Jimin's gone completely still on top of you save the heaving of his chest, giving you time to accommodate him, you presume - if not regain proper control of himself.  

“Daddy's cock feels good, doesn't it, kitten?”  Jimin asks, and if you're not mistaken you can hear his voice wavering as he speaks. “Think you can take it?”  He swivels his hips against you, tilting them forward to press even deeper inside, and as sparks of pleasure dance behind your eyelids you moan out a confirmation, pushing back against him in a plea to get started.  “Good girl.”

Measuredly, Jimin begins moving inside of you.  His thrusts are slow and shallow, carefully controlled, but they affect you both just as greatly as his normally animalistic pace would do, labouring Jimin's breaths and making his fingers clench deeper into the mattress every time he sinks into you.  With each and every shift of hips it becomes all the more pleasurable and your thighs start to ache from tilting your ass up from the bed to meet him mid-thrust, lips wrapping around the tip of Yoongi's thumb to suck and lick and kiss.  It'd been tracing the edges of your parted mouth, admiring the two swollen, blood-red bitten pieces of flesh, but now Yoongi's eyes are fixed on how eagerly you devour the digit, moaning around it whenever one of Jimin's thrusts hit just right.

“Fuck, ” Jimin groans out from behind you, supporting himself on one arm to grab an ass cheek and pull it aside, watching his cock disappear into your snug hole, “You always take daddy’s cock so well.”  You make moans of affirmation around the two fingers that are being pushed between your lips, pleased when you hear Yoongi inhale sharply at how eagerly you suck on them.

Every time your pelvis is pushed into the bed by Jimin’s thrusts you can feel a wet patch of arousal that’s formed beneath the you as you drip freely, soaking the sheets, and whilst the motion of Jimin moving inside of you feels amazing it does little to sate the persistent ache deep in your pelvis.  The repetitive grind of your clit against the sheets only exacerbates the problem further, and as Yoongi begins kiss his way across the sensitive blade of your shoulder you’re letting go of Jimin’s manhandled pillow to sneak one hand underneath the curve of your waist in an attempt satisfy your growing need.

You’ve only managed to brush the tips of your fingers against the hard little nub before Jimin realises what you’re doing, yanking away your source of gratification and pinning your hand above your head.  The shift in position plunges him even deeper inside of you and you whimper helplessly, hips grinding relentlessly into the mattress for any source of stimulation you can find.  

“Always so greedy,” Jimin hisses into your ear, teeth clamping onto the lobe and pulling as he shoves into you, “Always wanting more. ”  Yoongi’s sat himself up slightly, unable to gain access to you when you’re so shrouded by Jimin’s form but more than content just to watch the way your cheeks turn pink at being scorned, smiling when he watches you bite your lip because you love it so.  He can’t deny that he’s enjoying watching Jimin at work, either,  and Yoongi’s cock twitches against his stomach at the sinful curl of a smirk that twists the younger boys lips as slams his pelvis into your buttocks to make you cry out his name.  “You want your oppa too, huh?”  Jimin’s mouth is right against your ear, breath brushing around the shell and across your cheek.  

“Yes, please, please,” you sob, reaching out with your unrestrained hand to grope for Yoongi’s form.

“Why?”  Why?  What does he mean, why?  Isn’t it obvious?  “Tell me why,” Jimin demands further, squeezing your fingers between his.  It’s so hard to think, and Jimin has no intention of giving you any respite to try and gather your thoughts, pounding into you relentlessly, the headboard of the bed banging against the wall.   

“I-I-” you stutter out mindlessly, finding Yoongi’s forearm and digging your fingernails into it to make him hiss.  

“You’re what?  What are you?”  You suddenly understand what it is that Jimin wants you to say, what he’s pushing for, and the words pour from your mouth without a modicum of embarrassment or restraint.  

“I’m greedy, daddy - a greedy, dirty girl,” you confess breathily, noting the way Jimin growls at the back of his throat and letting it spur you on, “I want you both, please, I want both your cocks inside me.”  Jimin’s thrust actually falters for a second, falling still on top of you as he seems to have to take a moment to collect himself, face pressed amongst your hair.  After a second, you feel his head turn.  

“What about you?  Can you behave?”  Jimin asks, addressing Yoongi, and you open up an eye to see the black-haired vampire nodding furiously, eyes fixed on your pleasure-wrecked face.  

“Yes, sir.”  Yoongi’s voice sounds hoarse, like he hasn’t had a drink in years, his tongue wetting his lips as he watches Jimin slowly withdraw from you.  You wince slightly as his cock slips out, and as Jimin climbs off of you you begin to wonder just how on earth the three of you are going to make this work, memory fragments of poorly acted pornography crossing your mind.  

Luckily, Jimin seems to have it all worked out.  He comes to lay on one side of you whilst Yoongi slips down to lie on the opposite side, and a firm hand on your hip rolls you to lie with your face toward Yoongi, Jimin at your back.  You smile nervously as Jimin takes a hold of your uppermost thigh, lifting it and then hooking his hand behind your knee to bend it, kneecap almost touching your chest, and Yoongi smiles comfortingly back at you, reaching out to brush the tangles of hair from your face.  It’s a hungry, passionate kiss that he inflicts on you as Yoongi closes the space between your bodies, the head of his cock nudging against your stomach and smudging wet arousal across it.  

“Make her beg for it,” Jimin prompts huskily, the hand cupping the back of your knee squeezing and pulling it even tighter to your chest.  Yoongi hums his agreement into your mouth even whilst his tongue is tangled up with yours, and you feel him reach down to guide his cock between your slickened lips, rubbing it back and forth between them with a deliberate slowness.  

He breaks your kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips as he moves away just enough to be able to watch the torment on your face.  

“This what you want?” he asks lowly, tapping the head of his cock against your clit and smirking at the way your breath hitches, “How bad, princess?  Just how much of a slut are you for my cock?” Jimin’s are lips are working their way along the back of your neck, teeth scraping as he goes, and it sends a shiver down your spine when he begins to suck on your delicate skin - not hard enough to bruise, just hard enough to make you whine.  

“So bad, Yoongi, god, please,”  you gasp as Yoongi’s deft fingers pluck and tweak at your nipple, squeezing it between his fingertips.  “Fuck! ”  There’s too much going on at once, too many sensations, Jimin’s mouth, Yoongi’s fingers, his cock - oh God his cock - nudging at your entrance, teasing unmercifully as it dips in and out, in and out by just an inch, and thanks to Jimin’s tight grip on your thigh you can’t even flex your hips to force him deeper, powerless to do anything but lie there and take it, tears forming at the corners of your eyes. “I can’t take anymore, please, Y-Yoongi, please put it in, please,” you ramble, hands pawing at his chest, pleading with water-filled eyes, “Please.”  

Yoongi’s desire-dilated pupils shift to focus on Jimin where he lays behind you, and it’s with bated breath that you await the outcome of their silent exchange, almost sobbing in relief when Yoongi gives an almost imperceptible nod and, mercifully, seems to have no intention of torturing you any further.  

As soon as Jimin has given the go-ahead Yoongi is pushing inside, hands on your waist, slipping in to the very hilt with uncharacteristic haste.  After all - if you’re intending to take both of them at once, then surely you can manage the stretch of just one?  Still, the sharp thrust makes you cry out into Yoongi’s mouth, and then again and again as he snaps his hips back and forth, rutting into you and grunting with the force of it, slamming you backwards into Jimin who pushes right back.  

Your body jolts as the head of Jimin’s cock finds its way between your buttocks, eager to reclaim his place inside you, and as Yoongi realises what’s about to happen he slows the pace of his thrusts, his kisses becoming tender and soothing as Jimin starts to push his way inside, even more gradually than the first time.  

“F-fu-uck,” you gasp, pulling away from Yoongi’s mouth to gasp for air with wide eyes as he enters you.  The sensation is like nothing you could’ve ever imagined, overwhelming but wonderful , so gloriously, inexplicably full once Jimin is seated fully inside of you, only your velvet walls separating the two men’s cocks as they begin to slide and glide against one another in tandem.

“ Holy shit ,” Yoongi gasps out as they both slide into you in unison, his eyes practically glazing over at how indescribably tight you’ve become with both of them inside you, “ Jimin.”   Hearing your Yoongi groan out your lover’s name in such a way sends a whole new wave of pleasure washing over you, walls clenching to squeeze them both even tighter and Jimin moans in reply as he feels it.   

“You look so beautiful like this, kitten, I wish you could see.”  Prompted by Jimin’s words, Yoongi takes a good long look between your legs and bites his lip at the sight of the two cocks sinking into you almost side by side, covered in your arousal.  So incensed is he by it that Yoongi’s powerless to resist taking you harder, faster, and Jimin meets him stroke for stroke, hip bones digging into your ass with every thrust.  “So beautiful, taking both our cocks.”

“Made for us,” Yoongi contributes, grabbing at your waist, nipping at the corner your mouth.  

“ Ours. ”  Jimin growls the word possessively, and it thrills you more than you could ever hope to explain.  Not ‘his’ anymore but ‘theirs’ - Jimin’s and Yoongi’s - all three of you, together.  Jimin lets go of your knee, allowing your leg rest back in place to hug their lengths even tighter as they push and pull against each other, an incredible to and fro that you never want to end.  He reaches around your hip and slips his hand between your legs to play with your clit, and in less than a minute you’re a quivering mess between them, moaning wantonly, nerve endings alight as Yoongi roughly fondles your breasts.  

“Cumming again already, princess?”  Yoongi asks huskily, lips ghosting across yours as he pulls at your nipple.  You reply is a muffled, high-pitched moan, thighs clenching together as Jimin’s fingertips torment your pleasure-centre, sending you closer and closer to the edge, their thrusts into you never ceasing.  If anything they seem to get faster the closer it approaches, chasing you towards it.  

“ Fuck , you’re so tight,” Jimin grunts, sweat-covered chest slapping into your back, “Cum for us, kitten, cum all over us.”  

The three of you are a panting, writhing mess of mouths and hands and limbs when it finally happens, your body spasming wildly as the orgasm hits and rips its way through you, so intense that you’re left seeing spots of white behind your eyelids.  Yoongi’s swearing under his breath, trying desperately to hold on as your walls contract as though you’re trying to milk the cum out of him, because he can tell him the determined look in his eyes that Jimin isn’t done with you yet.

"Get that off.”  He may not be cumming yet, but it doesn’t stop Jimin’s voice from sounding tight and strained, his jaw clenched tight as they continue to fuck you through your orgasm and out the other side, unconcerned with the way you twist and mewl from overstimulation.  Yoongi does as Jimin asks, unclasping your collar to toss it aside and then pushing your hair off of your neck to grant the other boy access, already having figured out exactly what Jimin’s intending to do.  

“Do it,” you gasp out before he can even begin to ask for permission, wanting nothing more than the sweet bliss of his bite to make all of this complete, and Jimin’s too far gone now to even think to hesitate.  His fangs slice through your skin like a knife through butter, delving deep into your throat, and the stab of pain is a sweet kind ecstasy, a long, languid moan falling from your lips as he pulls the blood from your veins.  

Jimin’s hand slips out from between your legs as he feeds from you, his arm coming to lay across your hip whilst your endorphin-ridden body melts into the mattress.  He grabs onto Yoongi’s ass and begins pulling the other boy into your pussy even harder and deeper than before, moaning around a mouthful of blood, and in turn Yoongi does the same, grabbing onto Jimin just as hard.  

Are they imagining fucking each other now, you drowsily wonder?

Jimin detaches himself from your throat when he hears your heart, which had initially accelerated so rapidly, become sluggish and slow, and you feel him shift slightly behind you to raise himself onto his elbow and then lean over your form towards Yoongi.  Feeling him hovering above you, you peel back your eyelids to watch as Yoongi leans up to meet him halfway to press his lips to Jimin’s blood-covered ones, and you groan with delight as you witness the younger boy beginning to share your blood with his elder through a messy, open-mouthed kiss.  

Perhaps it should horrify you to see your blood running from their mouths, smearing between their lips and dripping down their chins, but it has the opposite effect.  Your body, which had been screaming with over-stimulation and then subsequently numbed by Jimin’s bite, is now suddenly alert again, hips moving backward and forward to keep up the pace of their thrusts whilst the two of them are otherwise occupied.  

And god, they really are wrapped up in each other.  Yoongi’s making sounds you’ve never heard him make before as he licks the inside of Jimin’s mouth clean, lapping up every morsel of your blood that he can find, and the look in Jimin’s eyes is positively feral as Yoongi sinks back into the pillow, sated, licking his lips.  

It’s your turn to kiss him now, undeterred by the taste of your blood lingering in his mouth, and Jimin watches the two of you with a purr of satisfaction, still guiding Yoongi thrusts into you in a rapid, rolling motion, palming the other boys ass.  

“You gonna cum for us, Yoongi, baby?”  Jimin purrs and Yoongi groans against your mouth, cock twitching inside you and making Jimin’s twitch in turn.  “Been such a good boy, don’t stop now - let me feel you cum.”  

“S-shit,” Yoongi curses as his thrusts become wild and unrestrained, slamming into you as he chases his high, and all the while Jimin is muttering encouragements, fucking into you even faster.  

“I’m gonna cum, daddy, I’m gonna cum,” you warn as your pleasure rapidly begins to peak once again with their relentless assault, and you grab onto Jimin’s hand where it lays open Yoongi, pulling on him too, tilting your hips to bring every thrust of his cock into contact with your g-spot.  It only takes a matter of seconds more for Yoongi to break, his head tipping back as cums with a shout, hips stuttering as he pulses his seed into you,

“ Y-yoongi, ” Jimin grunts, and you know he can feel it all through you; can feel Yoongi’s cock as it throbs next to his, can feel the heat of his cum coating your insides.  It’s enough to push Jimin over the edge, and you too, the both of you cumming in unison, his face pressed into your neck, crying out against it.  He spills into you as Yoongi holds onto him, breathing hard, and you’re whimpering by the time it’s all over, stuffed full of their cum, throat covered in blood, your bodies coated in each others sweat.    

Yoongi is the first to speak, voice rasping through ragged breaths.  

“ Gongjunim, are you alright?”  You prise open your heavy eyes, fingers still entwined with Jimin’s on top of Yoongi’s ass.

“A bit-”  You pause, wincing as Jimin slides out of you and Yoongi follows suit, “-Sore.”  Yoongi smiles apologetically, placing a sweet kiss to the tip of your nose whilst Jimin chuckles behind you, simultaneously kissing the back of your neck.  

“I can’t say I’m surprised.”  He kisses you again, trailing his lips from the back of your neck to your throat which he cleans with a few swift, efficient licks, finally kissing your cheek before rising from the bed and leaving you folded in Yoongi’s arms.   

“Where are you going?” you ask, twisting your head with a worried frown.  You’re nowhere near done cuddling yet, even if you are lying in the middle of a rapidly growing mess.

“To run us all a bath,” he smirks as he retreats, walking backwards from the room, “I think we need it.”  He’s not wrong, and both you and Yoongi laugh as Jimin disappears into the bathroom, holding each other tight.  

Yoongi’s positively radiating with happiness as the two of you bathe contentedly in the afterglow, eyes sparkling with happiness, beaming a smile back at you, gums and all, and you can’t resist kissing him again, so full of love that it feels as though your heart might burst.  The two of you kiss for so long that it’s only Jimin’s return that eventually pulls you apart, Jimin’s arms winding the both of you with a satisfied hum.  

“I love you,” you tell them, squeezing each of their hands in turn, and it’s Jimin that answers, squeezing back.  

“We love you too.”  Yoongi nods his agreement, and that love-drunk feeling only grows, filling you with warmth right down to your toes.  You roll onto your back, noting the brief lightheadedness that accompanies the motion.  

“So Yoongi can stay?” you ask Jimin quietly, his hand caressing your hip.  

“I'm not about to go back on what I said,” he smiles, eyes flicking to Yoongi's beside you, “The three of us will figure it out.”  You beam back at him, squirming happily when Yoongi nips playfully at your ear, a smile tugging at his lips too.  “C’mon, the water will be getting cold.”  

Somewhat reluctantly the three of you rise out of bed, Yoongi's hand slipping into yours as soon as you're standing to walk with you to the bathroom, anticipating your unsteadiness.

“Yoongi,” you muse as you enter the steam-filled bathroom, “Do you think we need to buy a bigger bed?”

[julia-highstorms]

The Third Park (Damien x OC (Ellie)) - Part 4

Summary: Damien takes Ellie on a night out drinking at his fave pub, Archer and Hopps... And of course it calls for the Nazario Chug!

Note: (most) characters belong to Pixelberry Studios. Damien is 100% human in here and Male!MC (Allen). Damien’s fc (Santiago Cabrera) gifs by @flynnomalleys and Ellie’s fc (Ni Ni) by @thanhpls. Link to previous parts

Pairing: Damien x OC (Ellie)

Rating: PG-13 (language/alcohol)

Tagging: @flynnomalleys @boneandfur @damienazariostan @client327 @never-ending-choices @dangerous-capri15 @goirishsunshine @walkerismychoice @laniquelove @parkerattano @bluediamondsapphire @wa-reva @her-imperial-hangman-s @endlesswoods @confessionsofabrokegirl @odetomars @suckmydestielobsessedassbutt @clarissafics @kennaxval @thequeenchoices If you would like to be tagged, tell me!

Word count: 3400

As he said, Damien worked the rest of the Monday and Tuesday too, until it was almost time to go meet with Eleanor. Although he tried to act normal, he would be lying if he said that he wasn't excited about it. It felt like years since he had been out on a proper date…

Wait. Was it a date?

No, they were just going to get a few drinks and chit chat.

...Hell, it sounded like a date.

Fuck.

Oh, whatever.

God, why was he feeling so nervous?

Since he lived close to Allen's apartment, he walked all the way there. He was approaching his friend's building when he saw a lone figure standing in front of it. When Eleanor saw him, she walked towards him, meeting him halfway.

"Good night." - she greeted him with a smile that made his heart leap a little.

"Good night. Uh… You look nice. Red really is your color." - she was wearing a simple red sweater and jeans, but she looked elegant anyway.

"Thank you. You don't look bad yourself. It's nice to see you sober for a change." - she chuckled as Damien rolled his eyes.

"Shall we?" - he offered her his elbow, which she accepted, an eyebrow raised.

"Charming. So, where are we going?"

"There's this nearby pub, Archer and Hopps. They serve great food there, besides drinks."

"Good, because I'm starving. Alright, lead the way!"

Chandeliers hanged from the ceiling, and there were classy leather booths lined across the room. As they entered the pub, the bartender called for Damien from behind the bar.

"Back already, Nazario? What are you moping about this time?" - but then, his eyes laid on the woman laughing next to Damien. - "Oh, this is new. It's been a while since you've come here accompanied." - Damien growled, wanting to disappear. The only other person who he brought there was Allen, more than two years ago. - "Nice to meet you, I'm Flynn."

"Eleanor, but you can call me Ellie." - she greeted him back. - "You didn't tell me you were a regular here, Damien." - she turned to him, squeezing his arm playfully, making the bartender laugh.

Damien's faced turned a shade pinker as he cleared his throat and asked for a drink:

"I would like a beer and a burger." - Flynn and Eleanor chuckled with his embarrassment. - "You?" - he asked her.

"Me too."

"Alright." - Flynn gave Damien their beers. - "Two burgers coming up. You two make yourselves comfortable."

Although it was a Tuesday night, the place was lively and packed, so they decided to sit in the stools by the bar counter, side by side.

"So you came here after Allen's and Nadia's weddings? To mope around?" - Damien sighed loudly. He knew she wouldn't let him get away from it.

"Yeah..." - he took a sip of his beer, clearly not wanting to talk about it.

When he put the bottle down, her hand squeezed his softly.

"Hey, I'm sorry. I'm being nosey again."

He let out a low sigh.

"No, it's okay. I should have gotten over it by now. Besides, I was pretty aware that things wouldn't work between me and him." - she nodded, letting him take it all out of his chest. - "And I did say that I would understand if he wanted to be just friends. But it's easier said than done. Hell, I've always said that emotions shouldn't get the better of us, and yet, look where I am… Still moping around, two years later."

Ellie kept holding his hand, her thumb massaging his knuckles. Nadia had told her that Damien had feelings towards Allen, but she didn't know that they were that strong. And that was why he looked so miserable during the wedding. She felt sorry for him.

She decided to change the subject. It was her own little mission to make Damien not think about Allen that night.

“So, you're a private investigator." - she said, drinking her own beer. He nodded. - "So this means that you’re paid to peep in other people’s lives? I don’t know if this is a dream job or an actual nightmare."

“You seem too much interested on my job.” - he arched an eyebrow. “Why?”

"Well, you're the first detective that I met and I'm a big fan of Agatha Christie." - she shrugged. - "But you don’t seem like a guy who cares much about what other people do or don’t, to be honest.” “And this is why I am so good at it.” - he answered and she saw a small grin tugging on the corner of his lips. That was a good sign. “Cocky. Alright, can you tell me which was your most interesting case?"

"Well… I was asked to take a look after a foreign royal who was having a forbidden affair with a 'commoner'—"

"Oh my God. Are you talking about King Liam of Cordonia?!" - Ellie beamed on her seat.

"I can't confirm you this. You know, private investigator conduct and everything." - she let out a frustrated sigh, making him chuckle. - "Why? Big fan of the royalty?"

"Are you kidding me?! I followed everything! Since they announced that there was an American suitor running for King Liam's hand during that social season! Then the leaked photos of Lady Riley and the other nobleman! Ugh, I can't wait for the royal wedding!" - Damien laughed with her excitement. She was cute. "Anyway, enough about my work. What about you? Did your boss send you new work to do? Or did she finally leave you alone?"

"I wish! My boss is always sending me more work to do. But I told her that I'll check everything on Monday, when I go back from my vacation. I've been too focused on my work for the last couple of years. I deserve a break."

"Bold move. But you're right."

"I know." - they clinked their beers as Flynn approached them with their food.

They'd been at Archer and Hopps for almost two hours. The burgers were long gone and there were a few empty drinks in front of them, both feeling a little lighter and happier. Their laughter filled the place.

“I still can’t believe they’re both married to robots!“ - Eleanor laughed hysterically as if that was the joke of the century. - “Oh my God." - she looked at Damien with wide eyes. - "Is the sex that good?”

“Don’t look at me. I have no idea how it is and I’m not planning on finding that out.” - but she kept murmuring to herself:

“...Must be it. I mean, Nadia is more traditional when it comes about love and sex and she had been let down countless of times by douchebags before. So I kind of understand why she fell so fast and hard for Steve, her 'Perfect Match', since he was entirely and exclusively designed for her. Allen, on the other hand, I've always kind of knew that he's more adventurous... I know what he meant when he said that he did some experiments during college involving handcuffs... but I’ve never thought he was that open, you know? To the point to marry a robot. And that he was so kinky.” - suddenly, her eyes laid on the man next to her again. - “What if the robots.... vibrate down there? They must have some kind of, I don’t know, an erotical device there!” - Damien couldn't hold back a laugh with her wonder.

“Are you curious now? Do you want to try it?”

“Hell no.” - she grabbed her beer and turned it down.

“Why not? Maybe you should be more open-minded. Like your cousins.”

“Please. I’ve watched enough movies to know that robots and humans are not a good thing to be together. Besides, I’m just into humans.”

“Oh yeah?” - Damien didn’t notice that he scooped closer to her. She nodded, her brown eyes darker, a side smile on her lips. - “What kind of human?”

“I don't know..." - she shrugged. - "I like to let my options open.”

“And are you seeing any human at the moment?”

Wow. Real subtle, Damien.

“No. I’ve been super single for almost two years now. Just random hookups with strangers at bars...” - she shrugged again. - “The last ‘relationship’ that I had was with this girl named Eva. We’ve been dating for a few months when I found out that she was taking my money without my consent. Of course I broke up with her. And before her I dated this dude who cheated on me with my neighbor. One day I was going to work and he walked out of the door from the other side of the hall. Jerk. And he tried to tell me that she was her cousin! But my neighbor heard it and then we both broke up with him at the same time.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“That’s okay, it was a long time ago, anyway.” - Ellie shrugged. - “What about you? Seeing someone?”

He let out a low chuckle.

“I wish. But I had my fair share of bad relationships, too."

"Oh yeah, Nadia told me about an ex-girlfriend of yours, this Interpol agent that helped you all take down Eros... Alana, right?”

"Dammit, Nadia. What else did she tell you?"

"Everything, I believe. Allen invited Alana to the wedding but she didn’t came...”

“Thank God.”

“I know she’s your ex... but why? You didn’t want to see her again? Allen respected her, even after that ‘betrayal’.”

“Allen is more forgiving than me. I guess you’re aware of that.”

She nodded, letting out a sigh.

“What a shame. I was looking forward to meet her. She sounded interesting. And gorgeous. Nadia showed me a picture of her. You were a very good looking couple. Can I meet her someday?”

“If you think I’ll introduce you to her, then you must be dreaming. Alana is dangerous.”

“I’m a grown up woman, 'D'." - she called him the nickname Nadia gave him. - "I know how to take care of myself.”

“Okay, if you happen to meet her, don’t come crying to me after she breaks your little heart, 'Ellie'.”

She giggled, leaning closer to him, her eyes longing on his.

“Hey...” - her breath was hot against his skin. - “help me.” - before Damien could know what was happening, he felt Eleanor's hand on one of his forearms to steady herself as she stood up from her seat. - “Wait for me. I need to freshen up.” - and she wobbled towards the toilet.

Eleanor was back after a few minutes, and Damien wondered if she brushing her body against his was by accident or not, when she went back to the stool next to him. “Okay, I’m back! Where were we?”

"Hey you two. Having fun?" - Flynn approached them, pouring two shots of dark rum for each of them.

"Oh my God..." - Damien muttered, knowing what was about to happen.

"What is this?" - Eleanor asked, curious about the deck of cards the bartender put on the counter, next to their drinks.

"I introduce you the Nazario Chug. Damien will tell you how it works." - the man grinned and slipped away.

"Nazario Chug? You have a game named after you?" - she asked, trying to not laugh at his face.

"Why? Feeling intimidated that I'll win?" - Eleanor concluded that Damien was already fully under the influence of the alcohol, based on his stupidly charming cocky grin.

"Hell no! Bring it on!" - she shouted, rubbing her hands against each other, excitedly. Damien chuckled and explained her how the game worked:

"You take the top card. Black means dare, red means truth. If you fail or want to dodge your task, you drink according to the number on the card. Ready?" - Eleanor flipped the first card. Seven of Hearts. - "Truth. When you went all the way to my house to ask me for Allen's password... Was it just an excuse to see me?" - she chuckled.

“Well, I actually needed that password. But… I won't lie that I liked to see you again. I wanted to get to know you better.” - she said, her eyes glancing on his lips.

"Me too." - they leaned closer, drawn to each other. They kept staring at each other for a minute, before Ellie pulled out and drank a shot (even though she had already played her turn):

"Hey, it's your turn, D." - she bumped her shoulder against his, playfully.

He flipped the next top card.

"Truth again." "Alright. So, is this a date? Or what?"

"I don't know. What do you think it is?" - he answered, with a smirk.

"Hey, it's not me who has to answer this question, it's you, Mr. Nazario. Or you answer it or you take four shots now."

"Well, I'll say that this is a date, then. What do you think about it?"

"If you say so..." - she chuckled, flipping another card.

"Nine of Clubs, and black means Dare. Finally." - he said with a satisfying and devilish grin.

"Oh no!" - Ellie shouted, laughing loudly. - "Alright, shoot."

"I dare you to go to the restroom and come out again and pretend you're so drunk that you end up bumping on the first person that you meet."

"What? This is stupid. What if this person get mad at me and I end up in trouble? Why would you want this?"

"Don't worry about it, if someone wish to start a fight, I'll be there to intervene. Now go. Unless you're a coward..."

Those were the right words, because Ellie simply stood up (after taking a shot for encouragement) and marched to the restroom. Damien watched her walking out of it a few seconds later, wobbling around.

She bumped hard on a man leaning against a wall nearby. She pretended to almost fall, but he grabbed her quickly, steadying her again.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" - she shouted a little too loud, so Damien could hear it. He held a laugh back. She clearly was forcing it. - "Are you okay?!"

"I'm good. What about you?" - the dark haired man on a leather jacket answered her. - “My name’s Jax, by the way.” - he answered with a grin. A grin full of second intentions to Damien’s opinion.

“I'm good too, Jax.” - clearly Ellie appreciated the man right in front of her, since she started playing with her own hair and leaned closer to him. - “Thank you for saving me...” - Damien walked towards them in a few hurried paces. He tried to be both gentle and firm when he put his hand on her shoulder.

“Ellie.” - he said, his eyes locked on the man in front of him.

“D!” - she shouted happily, throwing her arms around his shoulder. - “Come meet my new friend and savior, Jax! Jax, this is my other not so new friend, Damien!”

“Nice to meet you.” - Jax said, smiling at him.

“Likewise. We have to go now.” - he turned to her.

“Already? I thought we could have some fun with Jax here… What do you think, Jax?”

“It would be nice.” - he answered, his smile widening. Damien didn’t like the way his eyes shined.

“I’m sorry, we have to go know. We have a place to go, do you remember it, Ellie?” - Eleanor wanted to protest, but then Damien put his arm around her waist protectively, pulling her closer.

And she wanted him to do it the whole night, and he was calling her her nickname (yep, she knew it was a way to show Jax that he was closer to her than he was), and his body was so hot against hers… That she thought to herself 'okay, girl, some nights you just can't have everything. Or everyone'.

“Oh, okay. You’re right. I’m sorry, we gotta go." - she said, leaning closer to Damien's embrace. - "But maybe another night, Jax.” - she smiled mischievously at him.

“I’d like that.” - Damien definitely didn’t like the way that man looked at her. It was almost predatory. Damien pulled Eleanor away before she could say goodbye to her “new friend”.

"Alright, enough about this game tonight." - he whispered as they headed towards the pub's door.

"Why? I was starting to like it! Maybe Jax could join us..." - Ellie kept talking, teasingly.

"This is out of question."

He paid for their dinner, said goodbye to Flynn and pulled Eleanor outside the pub, his hand still on the small of her back.

“You know, jealousy is not a very attractive feature, 'Big D'. You ruined my night with that gorgeous ma—”

“Who told you?” - he asked abruptly, pulling away from her.

“What?” - Ellie immediately missed his touch. God, was she that touch deprived?

“The nickname.”

He saw a devilish grin spreading on her face.

“Nadia, of course.”

“I’ll kill her when she’s back...” - he muttered to himself. He went on a night out with Nadia and Allen and might have drunk a little too much and said that he liked to call himself “Big D” when he was younger... because of that stupid and weird fixation that boys had with their own dicks. Yes. And Nadia never let him hear the end of it. - “Anyway, it’s late. I’ll walk you home.”

They chatted all the way to Allen’s apartment, arm in arm.

“Well, that was it. Just another glimpse of a New Yorker experience: the Nazario edition.” - he said, as they stopped in front of the red bricks building.

“That was fun. Thank you for spending your time with me, D. I know you have real work to do and it’s not babysitting me. So I mean it when I say thank you.”

“It’s no problem at all. And I’d like to thank you too. For being patient with me and listening to me whining.”

“It’s okay, I was told before that I’m a great listener.” - he chuckled.

“Have people told you that you’re conceited too?”

“A couple of times, I guess.” - they shared a laugh. - “But this never stopped them from liking me.”

She dangerously approached him, with that mischievous shine on her eyes and that sly grin that he knew too well by now. Damien knew that he should turn around and go away.

Don’t get involved with another Park.

But, hell, he should have done it the day before, and here they were. Walking back from a date.

It seemed that he was unable to reasoning when Eleanor Zhou was around.

Before he knew it, he felt her lips on his cheek, bringing him back to his senses. He looked at her, and for the first time she had this coyly smile on her beautiful face. Seeing that he didn’t pulled out, Ellie closed the distance between them, cupping her hands around Damien’s face and leaned in, kissing his mouth this time.

He hesitated for a single second, before his lips kissed her back hungrily, almost desperately, as his arms pulled her close by her waist, pressing her body tightly against his. Her hands were already on his hair, pulling it possessively and excitedly, while she deepened the kiss. She let out a low groan against his lips, that made his blood boil.

“...I’ve been thinking of doing this since you cornered me on the wedding.” - he said when they needed air, his voice sounding hoarse.

“To be honest, me too. Took you long enough, D.” - she whispered back as her hands rested on his firm chest, feeling his heart beating fast and hard, like hers. - "...I better go now. Good night." - the sensation of his warmth enveloping her as he held her was nice, but she pulled out of his embrace, after a last peck.

"Aren't you going to let me in…?"

"If we were in my house… Yeah. But this is Allen's apartment. Wouldn't it be... weird?"

Fuck. She was right.

"We could go to my flat..." - she let out a loud laugh.

"You would like that, wouldn't you?"

"Well, you're a fucking tease. You think I didn’t notice that you’ve been teasing me the whole night? Touching me ‘innocently’ and flirting with a stranger right in front of me.”

“Well, if I didn’t do it, you would have never kissed me.”

...She was right again. Fuck, was he that obvious? Or was is because she could read him so well?

“You’re an evil woman, Ellie. Do you know that? Making me all worked up like this to leave me alone in the end." - she giggled again.

"Take a cold shower, Nazario." - she patted his shoulder before walking indoors and leaving him alone in the street.

[gutterdreams]

Peacekeeper PT 1 [Billy Hargrove]

Word Count: 5.2k. Disclaimer: I don’t own Stranger Things or the GIF used below. 

I also don’t know if this is any good. I don’t know. Be nice. I hope you enjoy.

There was a long list of reasons why Billy's life was better since you two started seeing one another and number nine was that you relieved him of most of his babysitting responsibilities when it came to Max. In fact, Susan seemed to prefer you to be the one hanging out with her daughter on a weekend night than her fiery-tempered stepbrother. You had expected that this Saturday Billy would stay at his house with you while his dad and Susan drove out of town to have dinner with a few couples from Neil's work, but he opted to go to Tommy's place and trash the basement with his buddies. He said he would be back before eleven so you two could fool around against his dresser, but you knew that Billy had a penchant for losing track of time when he was with his friends.

You weren't surprised when eleven o'clock came and went without Billy so much as calling. He was out, having a good time, and would surely make up for it tomorrow. You also weren't surprised when the front door started to unlock with jingling keys and soft whispers just a few minutes before one in the morning. Billy seemed to have inherited his lack of punctuality from his father. Neil and Susan stepped through the door, one after the other, with bright smiles, rosy cheeks, and quiet 'hello's'. Out of reflex, you took your feet down from their couch and stood up, turning off the television that you had been mindlessly watching with the volume low. “Sorry, we're a little late.” Susan sincerely told you as she slipped off her pastel heels. “The roads are slippery.” Whether or not that was the truth, you didn't mind and wiped your hand through the air in front of your face to let her know that. “Max asleep?” “Yeah, she's out. We had a lot of fun though.” Mostly, you two just talked and ate pizza. Max always rolled her eyes when she was told she was being babysat. She was thirteen after all, but it was nice for her to have one on one time with you. She could actually talk to you about Lucas or things that she otherwise felt embarrassed to ask. It wasn't as if she could ask you what sex felt like or talk about how cute Lucas was when he laughed at his own jokes in front of Billy. You two had sat on opposite ends of the couch and chatted most of the night while Rhinestone played on the TV as background noise. “Thanks again for doing this on short notice.” They had only asked you the night before when you were standing in their doorway, doing up your coat, and waiting for Billy to get ready so you guys could go to the community centre skating rink. Billy was horrible on a pair of skates, but he went because he promised you that he would and Tommy and Carol would be there anyway with a flask in their respective jackets. “It's no problem. I like it.” “And Billy likes it too.” Neil joked even if it a slight dug at his son. Even though it was unreasonable, Neil wanted so badly for his boy to want to babysit Max, to want to be her big brother. “Well, it's nice for him to get to go out with his buddies.” You shrugged mindlessly, trying to defuse any sparks before they could transform into a fire. “I thought he would be here by now. So I'm just going to call a cab.” If he had come at eleven like he said he would, Billy could have had time to sober up, but you knew now that by the time he got home that he would be drunk. It bothered you that he drove himself around when intoxicated, but you had given up trying to control him. It only ever brought his beer breath roaring in your face. All you could do was refuse to be a passenger in his car when he was wasted. “Nonsense.” Neil shook his head at you with a look that suggested you were insane. “I'll drive you home.” He still had his shoes and coat on, standing close to the door as you adjusted the bottom of your shirt over your navy blue leggings. It was a strange instinct, but you looked at Susan and she just nodded with support. There was a slight knot in your stomach that told you to stay still, to insist on calling for a cab or even calling your older brother, Jack. Neil played with the keys in his hand and, like a dog listening to the bell of it's leash, you walked in that direction, grabbing your purse off their recliner as you did. “Bye, Susan.” She was headed to Max's bedroom to check on her daughter, make sure she was actually asleep, but she gave you a half smile and slipped a palm up as a silent goodbye. Walking a few paces ahead of you, Neil opened up the car door to the seat that Susan most often occupied, sometimes Max on the occasional time he took her to school and drove her to see a friend, and waited for you to slide in.

“Will we see you tomorrow?” As soon as Neil was behind the steering wheel, he asked making polite conversation. He started up the car and backed out quickly, without so much as glancing behind himself, making it very clear who taught Billy how to drive. “For dinner?” You checked, just to make sure you were both on the same page. “Yeah, as long as that's still okay.” “Absolutely, we love having you around.” Neil confirmed with a jolly laugh. The unsettling feeling in your stomach hadn't subsided in the slightest, not even now as Neil was talking to you like he was a mall Santa Claus. You wondered if it was because you'd been around him when he was talking down to your boyfriend or you had been the one sitting with a drunk Billy in your basement bathroom as he babbled on and on about how he couldn't remember the last time his dad smiled at him or how he called him a loser just that morning. It was hard to feel comfortable with someone who had hurt the person you cared for the most. “I don't know what you see in Billy, but I'm glad you do.” Just like that, Neil dug at Billy. The conversation wasn't even on the curly haired boy, but he just couldn't resist a cheap jab. It didn't feel right to dignify the conversation by continuing it. You allowed Neil to have his little laugh at Billy's expense and sat there quietly with your hands between your bare knees. As you watched fields stretch wide outside the window, you told yourself that Neil was just trying to be nice. It wasn't as if you two had much in common outside of the fact that you both knew Billy. “Actually, Billy's a really great boyfriend.” You worked up the courage to break the silence and say. “And I know you might not get to see it, but he cares about Max in his own way.” Neil nodded, seemingly amused by your comment. He reached over and pat your knee, just once and you felt the peach fuzz that kept your body warm stand up straight. His hand left your knee as quickly as it had come down, but then it didn't leave. He pat it twice and let it rest right there on your boney knee cap with your eyes viciously glued down to the lines in the second and third knuckles of his fingers and at his trimmed and clean nail edges.

When you were a very little girl, no more than three, you remembered your parents telling you what to do if a van pulled up and someone driving it asked you for directions. As you grew up, the details started to follow the warnings. Your mom made it abundantly clear to you that you needed to make it clear you were uncomfortable if a man ever crossed a line with you, touched you in a way you were not okay with, or was trying to do anything without your consent. Each time, she would try to prepare you, you would nod to agree and think that she was crazy. It felt like advice you didn't need, but now, as you sat frozen and uncomfortable, you wished you had, maybe, listened better. This wasn't at all the way you thought you would react. Preparing yourself with a shallow inhale, you clenched your knees even tighter together and pointed them toward the door handle and away from him. The hint was unreceived or unaccepted. Neil just kept his hand right there and you watched closely to make sure it hadn't moved an inch either North or South. Your heart was racing, but not in a good way, not in the way that Billy made it flutter when he would take your hand instinctively in his, when he would mention that he heard a song he thought you might like, or look at you with melting blue eyes that only saw you in the hallway. Instead it was beating over top of the sick feeling in your stomach, in a way that practically screamed 'Get out of the fucking car!' “I know he's a good boyfriend.” Squeezing your skin under his hand, Neil chuckled and assured you. It was almost comforting for a moment. “Our walls are very thin.”

If Neil said another word, it didn't register through your ears or in your brain. Your eyes fluttered blank as you kept them on the clean floor of his car. It was pristine, just like how Billy kept his and that suddenly bothered you as you felt light-headed and embarrassed. If he was trying to humiliate you, it was working. It was as if you were the size of a pea and he was a sharp three-prong fork coming down to jab through you manically with just one motion. All you could hear were the whirring of his car's tires under the car and your vicious heartbeat pounding through your ears.  This was the first time that you hated the drive home from Billy's. Usually, you liked that it took some time to get into the suburban part of town from the outskirts. It gave you time to cool down and it was accompanied by Billy's music and his reckless hands driving you nuts by drumming on the wheel instead of clutching it. Neil drove safer, but you had never felt less sure of a situation. He liked it though. He lived for having the control in every situation. Neil mindlessly conjured up conversation, asking you if you considered leaving Hawkins sometime and explaining that it had not been a very easy decision to pack up and move to Indiana from California. The story he told was very different than the one Billy shopped around. His hand only left your leg as he made a sharp left turn, nearly missing your street. “Thanks for the ride.” Out of habit from being raised to always mind your manners, you almost sang at him. You grabbed your purse from between your feet and turned to bust out of the car. However, in your haste, you forgot to unlock your seat belt so when you pushed open his car door, you were thrown back by the elastic of the belt. It made Neil whistle with delight. Neil reached over and pressed down on the red button that released the belt and set you free with a smile that you had never seen outside of on TV, usually worn by a cartoon villain with a magical scepter. “We'll see you tomorrow, sweetheart.” Smiling at you as you closed the door, Neil waved. He watched you jog up your driveway and dart around the side of the house to enter through the back door. He stayed put until you were out of sight and then drove off. You swore your heart beat didn't normalize until his engine was too far away to hear. When the clock struck nine in the morning, you could not wait any longer. You had eaten breakfast with your family, watched an episode of Family Ties with your three siblings in your pajamas, had a shower, blow dried your hair, changed into comfortable clothes, but still you couldn't stop the memory of the strange car ride home last night. It kept coming in pieces through your brain whether it was in between bites of your mother's blueberry pancakes, commercials of the show, or while your head was upside down with the heat of the blow dryer shaking through your locks. It was unlikely that Billy was awake, but you had to talk to him. Unsurprisingly, Max picked up, but you wasted no time and asked her if Billy was around. She was holding the phone near her chest, but you could still hear her shouting his name in your ear as if he was ruining her life by simply not having picked up the call himself. “Hello?” As tired as you knew he would be, your boyfriend half-croaked and half-yawned into your ear. “Hey. I know it's early.” You stopped yourself from apologizing and just kept going. Billy wanted to get back to bed just as you wanted to get this ache off your chest. “I just...I can't come over tonight for dinner and I wanted to tell you sooner than later.” All your words ran out of your mouth in a rush, piling onto one another with no pauses in between. “Huh?” Billy scratched at his head, taking a second to join the rest of the living world. “Is this because I didn't come home last night? I was out of my mind blitzed...” Billy really liked when you were over. It was really the only time he wanted to be in his house. If you weren't going to be there for supper, he didn't want to be either. “No, I'm glad you didn't drive drunk. I forgot about an assignment that's  due tomorrow so I need to stay in and work on it.” It started out as the truth, but it twisted effortlessly into a lie. Even if it was small, you knew Billy would hate it. He had a lot of trust issues and any lie could get someone on his shit list. However, it wasn't as if you didn't have homework to finish.  “Oh yeah?”  Billy stuffed a yawn against the back of his hand. "Okay." He wasn't going to fight with you about it. Perhaps, if he was more awake he would attempt to lay on some kind of guilt trip. He always wanted you there as you made it less mind numbing for him. "I'll pick you up tomorrow morning then? Or can I come and hang out later?" Billy figured he would be happy playing Atari in your basement while you studied. If he was out of from under his own roof, he was always more comfortable. "Yeah, you can if you want." You mumbled while looking down at your feet on the ground. You were going to have to make up an assignment to do in front of him now, but at least you wouldn't be feeling sick at his kitchen table across from Neil. Maybe, you were overreacting, but you had never felt quite as small as you had the night before in Billy's dad's car. "I'll be home all day." "Okay, I'm going back to bed, but I'll come when I'm up." Billy grumbled and listened to you sweetly say  'goodbye' before hanging up and dragging his body back to the comfort of his covers.  :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::  You had babysat Max twice more since the unsettling car ride, but things were uneventful as Billy was there both times and drove you home almost the second Susan came home. Somehow, your schedule and Neil's never intersected and you didn't mind one bit. In fact, you made yourself comfortable enough to not dodge dinner invitations with the Hargrove's. You really did have family plans when they asked the next time.  In front of Billy's makeshift vanity, you were back combing your hair and layering in long squirts of hairspray as Iron Maiden screamed through his stereo.  "Are you ready yet?" Billy asked from his closet door, pulling out his leather jacket and slipping it on sleeve by sleeve. He had his own routine when it came to getting ready and months of waiting for him had only made yours longer.  "Almost, hold on." Taking your comb in one hand while holding up your hair with the other, you answered him. You couldn't even see his face through the mirror, but you knew he was annoyed. He had been looking forward to tonight for a few days - driving out of town to see a band from California that he had loved. Billy was ready to go as soon as school had been let out that Friday. He had been extra careful all week to stay on Neil's good side and keep from being grounded.  Neil barked from the front door for Billy to turn his music down. When you didn't reach over right away to do so, the man stomped over to barge in and forcefully do it himself. He braked on his toes as soon as he saw you and held his temper back. Billy practically leaped over his bed to turn the volume dial down.  "You guys are going to destroy your ears." He warned with a hiss, glancing at his son and then watching you as you put down the plastic comb on one of Billy's shelves. "[Y/N], you been to a metal show before?"  "Midnight Switchblade aren't really metal." Billy mumbled as he sat on the edge of his bed, head back on his shoulders while he impatiently  waited for you.  "This will be my first concert like this." You had been to concerts before, but usually at stadiums in Indianapolis, not the basement of grungy bars with a fake ID that Billy had made up for you. You and Billy did have musical taste in common though even if he liked it louder and angrier.  "You going to take care of her tonight?" Neil asked his son while crossing his jacket clad arms over his chest, puffing it out. When you turned around to find your purse in Billy's room, you saw the mocking look Billy made at you about his dad's question.  "Yeah, she'll be fine." Billy jumped up from the bed and confidently said. He felt confident that he could protect you from anything and anyone. "I'm going to get my boots on." His hand slid down your back from between your shoulders, grabbing your attention then walking past his dad to go to the front door.  You threw he strap of your purse over the shoulder or your jean jacket and smiled meekly, lips together, at Neil on your way out. He let you take one step by him and then turned around, lying a hand from his pocket.  "[Y/N]" Neil practically whistled and brought your attention back to him. He had his wallet out, thumbing between the flap and taking out a twenty. "Take this." He folded it over his thumb and casually handed it over.  You didn't take it. You stood still and just stared at the crisp bill. It was hard to understand the gesture and trust if it was sincere. You never knew the intention of anything with Neil. Maybe he was just being nice to you. Maybe you shouldn't have had your guard up. Or maybe he wasn't and maybe you should. "If you need to call a cab or something." He explained with a soft nod toward his offer.  "Carol is driving. Billy's leaving his car at her place." Your boyfriend had plans to stick his tongue all the way down your throat in the backseat. Billy wanted to take full advantage of the fact that he wasn't driving.  "If you want to get yourself something to drink or anything, just take it." You didn't want to offend him because the world had to told you to 'be nice', 'be polite', and 'be good'. You were a girl and Hawkins wanted you to behave accordingly.  "Thank you, Mr. Hargrove." With manners in mind, you reluctantly took the twenty and reached into your purse to put it away in your wallet. It wasn't as if the Hargrove's paid you to watch Max, so you pretend it was money you were owed to feel better about it. "Call me Neil, sweetheart." Neil squeezed your shoulder, his grip tender, but firm and then walked by you only leaving behind a loaded grin. He went over to Billy, who was chomping at the bit by the door, and started hanging up in his jacket pocket. They talked in low, private voices as you came over to put on your own shoes.  Standing behind the open fridge door, grabbing himself a cold beer, Neil called out for you two to have a good time. You followed Billy quickly to his car, contemplating giving him the twenty for gas money. He did do the bulk of the driving in your relationship. You knew it gave him the control that he needed, but that didn't come without a cost.  "Where does Carol live again?" Billy asked once out of his driveway and on the road. He had the tape for Midnight Switchblade in as it had been for the last few days, playing the songs he loved over and over.  "Marigold Bay." You said even though it was a miracle that you remembered. Before dating Billy, you two weren't really close. A lot of your friends disliked her as she was 'easy' and 'obnoxious', so you followed the pack's mentality and disliked her too. When the boys were out of the room and she didn't have anything to prove, Carol wasn't really that bad. In fact, sometimes you saw a lot of fear in her eyes when Tommy would carelessly make a joke at her expense. "If you drive as if you're going to my place, it's in that direction." Not quite as deep into the sea of cookie cutter homes, but close enough. You reached over and offered your hand for Billy to hold as he drove. Usually, it was him who reached out and felt around for you in the car, but you were feeling anxious and unsettled. You needed a rock and, while often a loose cannon, Billy was going to be that.  "Hey, did you want to stay over tonight?" Billy asked and reached over to turn his music down slightly. He must have felt your round and surprised stare. "My dad lifted his rule about sleeping over today." He and Susan always nattered at him when you two spent any time in his room with the door closed or were handsy in the house. They called it 'disrespectful' and often said it was a bad example for Max even though you knew she didn't care. "Right before we left, he mentioned it." Billy didn't care what prompted the change, he was just happy that the ban was lifted.  "No, it's okay." You wanted to say 'yes', but your conscience wouldn't let you - not after you watched Neil devour you whole with his eyes.  "Why not?" Billy honestly couldn't believe you turned the opportunity down. "I just don't ... " You didn't want to lie, but telling him that his dad gave you the heebie-jeebies also didn't feel like the right approach. "I like my bed." Shrugging toward your ears, you told him honestly. It was the truth.  "It just would be nice to not have to drive you home from Carol's and then have to drive all the way home." You knew Billy was going to drink tonight. It seemed like one could not go to this concert without pounding back stale pints.  "Well, I can take a cab home from Carol's." You had a twenty in your wallet now.  "No, it's - " Billy wrestled with himself. He didn't mean to make you feel guilty. If you were some random girl, he would have told you to walk home from Ogden, he didn't care, but you were not just some random girl, you were his girl and he took great pride in that. "It's fine. I can drive you home." "We could sleep at Carol's, I bet." Her family was very low key like that. It seemed like she was raised without rules or expectations sometimes. Her home was free for her friends to use.  "You just said you like your bed." Billy reminded you, laughing at the controversy in what you were suggesting.  "I do like my bed, but..." There was no way your parents would be okay with Billy sleeping in it while they were home. "There's no ears listening in if we crash at Carol's." Seductively, you told him and prompted his left hand to come off the wheel and finally fit into your waiting hand. He liked the sound of what you were insinuating.  "My dad probably does listen." Billy scoffed before turning the music back up. It was an off hand comment and he didn't realize that it made your stomach turn and legs fidget uncomfortably. He didn’t know that his remark was one hundred percent true. "He always says you fill out your blouse nicely." At first, Billy thought his old man said it rile him up, and it worked, but his dad had been drinking with him last time he mentioned it and even though Billy didn't like when other people commented on your body, he did like the bonding moment with his dad, so he let it go. He pretended that it was something Dads everywhere say. "That's really weird." You downplayed. It was creepy. Really creepy. "We'll crash at Carol's." Billy squeezed your hand again and went back to driving. It was decided. "Hey?" He grabbed your attention as you were looking out the window, mindlessly counting street lights. Eyes off the road, Billy waited until you were looking at him again. "You look so hot tonight." He grinned through his compliment, eyes devouring you for himself and nodding with approval. * * * * * * * * * * * *  You were not at all surprised when you wound up being the one behind the wheel of Carol's parents mustard yellow Ford Cortina. Billy was drunk before the band was even on, his chest coated with the scent of watered down beer. Tommy and Carol were beyond inebriated and you had only drank two beers in the span of three hours because of the bar didn't have coolers and that was all you liked.  Tommy was one inch away from fingering Carol in the backseat, her feet digging into the back of your spot, as you drove with your headlights bright and the music low. You had never driven outside of Hawkins before and it was nerve-wracking.  Taking a break from singing loudly and using the dashboard as a drum, Billy played with your hair and tried his best to ignore the love-fest happening behind him.  "God, you're beautiful." Out of his mind, he told you with his eyes glassy, but on your profile. "So fucking pretty and all mine." He cooed softly. Billy had many different personalities when drunk. Like the one you met in the bar parking lot, when you insisted on driving. That Billy was straddling the thin line between brat and jerk, but this Billy was one you happened to like. "I love you." He mumbled and then said it again over and over.  Billy only told you he loved you when he was drunk. It hurt, but made your heart feel like carnival cotton candy at the same time.  Once in front of Carol's house, you tried interrupting her and Tommy long enough to get the key to her garage. Billy even went as far as reaching into the backseat and smacking Tommy at the side of his head. It was no use, so you parked in front of the house and exhaled, relieved, as soon as you were out of the car and breathing fresh air.  Billy slammed the passenger door shut and laid down on the lawn, cackling. He reached out his hand from you, but unlike any other time, you stayed put. It wasn't until he pouted, bottom lip jetting out, that you walked around the front of the car and leaned against it.  "Billy, I'm just going to go home." Scratching at your head under your hair, you admitted. Periodically throughout the night when you weren't being jostled around by sweating hyped up bodies or drowning under the sound of a bad amp, you would weigh your sleeping options for the night. You just couldn't make yourself comfortable with staying at your boyfriend's place even though you knew you should. "Why? I thought - "  "I'm tired and who knows when we'll get in Carol's house." She was currently getting plowed in her parent's shitty car.  "Tommy won't last two minutes." Billy laughed.  "I'm tired." Again, you huffed. "I'll find the hide-a-key then." He pushed off of his palms and jumped to his feet, drunk but ready for action. "Or I'll break in."  "It's fine. I just... I like my bed." You used your previous line and stopped Billy from throwing a garden rock through any of the house windows. He changed directions and came over to you, hands sliding down your arms to hold your hands tightly.  "You don't want to feel me inside you, baby?" Softly, he mentioned and then brought up one of your hands, still together, and kissed the knuckles. “I've missed you...” It had only been a few days since you snuck off on lunch break and had sex instead of sandwiches at your place, but Billy didn’t feel like his weekend was complete without being intimate with you. "I do, but I don't have a condom." Your mother was adamant that you were way too young to be on the pill. You and Billy had talked about driving to Fort Wayne on a Saturday to pick it up at the nearest women's clinic, but it just hadn't happened yet. You didn't know if it would if he only said the "L" word when intoxicated.  "I do." He always kept a couple in his wallet just in case. "Or, you know, you could let me slide in raw..." The horny Jiminey Cricket in his head made him ask, but Billy grinned with all his teeth out as you shook your head like he knew you would.  "You're too drunk. You wouldn't pull out." It didn't matter what he said, you knew that to be true.  "You look so good tonight." He leaned in and kissed you. At first, you just thought about what a cute and clumsy drunk he was tonight, but as his hands let go of yours and rested on your hips, your thoughts began to race. You just thought about the time his Dad drove you home. Instantly, your eyes opened and you pulled your face away from Billy's.  "I really need to go home. I'm exhausted." Resting a palm on his warm, but sticky chest, you told him. 

“Fine.” He whined. Billy’s pout might have been for sympathy, but it didn’t mask how annoyed he was. “If you miss me, too bad. You can’t come back.” He was only teasing though. Billy really hoped you would change your mind.

Once Carol climbed out of the car with lipstick all over her chin, her dress unbuttoned, and a smile the size of  a banana split crooked on her face, you followed her in and called for a a cab. It didn't hit you until you were in the backseat and waving at Billy through the window that you were using the money Neil gave you. You weren't really sure how that made you feel. Strangely, you were grateful, but your skin was still crawling.

Silently, as the cab turned off Carol’s street, you wondered if this was a phase that would pass. You questioned if there was a good way to bring it up with Billy,  but even safe topics with him could become heated and the subject of Neil Hargrove was anything, but safe with him.

@stevesharrlngtons @daddyslittlemunster @kaliforniacoastalteens @stephaniecats @fireismysaftey @penguinlover15

[witchymarvelspacecase]

Voiceless Pt 2

Summary: (Reader Insert) Reader is a mutant/inhuman with a powerful voice (works a little like a banshee / a little like a siren). She’s had it a little tough since discovering her powers. She is found and taken in by Tony Stark and the remaining Avengers after the events of Civil War

Word Count: 1038

Warnings: Typos (sorry)

A/N: I’m not 100% sure what the pairing is on this one yet but there is some serious Dad!/Big Brother!Tony happening.

A giant “Thank you” to @17sullivan who read my idea for this fic, and is an all around wonderful person. Thank you for the push love!

Voiceless Masterlist

Not my Gif, credit to the owner

Settling into the compound took some time, it’s not that it was uncomfortable cause it seriously wasn’t, the problem was getting used to living around a bunch of superheroes; people you knew about, idolized and felt so inferior too. It also didn’t help that you were the sole source of estrogen in the building; you weren’t sure if Vision even had hormones per-se, but if he did, estrogen wasn’t the main one. For a little while, Colonel Rhodes (who insisted that you called him Rhodey) wasn’t at the compound; with his back being so seriously injured, he spent a lot of time in and out of the hospital. Occasionally Peter would visit, but he was still in high school so his visits weren’t frequent. With only Tony and Viz around, you thought you would have a lot of time to yourself… nope. No, that, that didn’t happen.

Tony seemed to have practically adopted you by the time you had finished unpacking your last box. He not only helped you move your boxes into your new space,  but he helped you unpack, and even organize. From then on, you spent a good deal of your time with him in his lab; you were only able to really grasp about a third of what he talked about, but he seemed so happy to have company, and genuinely liked to have you help every once in awhile. You took to bringing a notebook to the lab with you; you wrote all the time that Tony tinkered, some times you wrote down things that he mentioned to look up later, sometimes you just wrote whatever nonsense was floating around your head, but more often than not, you wrote songs.

Funny thing about being able to sing like you could, sometimes you wished that there was a song that really fit what you wanted to convey; not that the poor souls you turned your powers on could really comprehend what you were singing, but you could, and for some reason, it bothered you that sometimes you didn’t have the right songs. You’d never had any formal voice training; when you were younger it hadn’t seemed necessary, and once your powers developed, it became an impossibility; so you didn’t write songs really, but you wrote the words, and most of the time, the music flowed through your mind as you matched it’s tune to your words. You had pages and pages of lyrics in random notebooks throughout your space, you never shared them with your new housemates, just as you’d never shared them with anyone before; they always seemed incomplete or silly to you. Not that they stayed unseen for long.

Some people would assume that Tony was the nosy one of the group, they would be wrong. Vision had a nasty habit of popping up wherever you’d least expect him, and seemed to almost delight (if he was capable to that feeling) in surprising you. So really, you should have anticipated him being the one to ask about your notebooks first.

Tony had been hunting round, almost manically, for a notebook of his for the better part of an hour, you were helping him to look, but it refused to turn up.

“Perhaps you should check amongst your notebooks Y/N, it could have easily been mistaken amidst them,” Vision supplied as he appeared in the room right behind you. You startled slightly, still unused to his habits.

“I’m not sure Viz, Tony’s notebooks are a lot more full than mine,” you laughed, looking to Tony who shrugged and continued to look around, now flipping over couch cushions.

“I’d say your notebooks are rather full as well Y/N; you have an impressive amount of pages filled in each.”

“You been snooping Viz?” You turned to face him with an eyebrow raised.

“I wouldn’t characterize it quite like that, no. I was simply looking for you, so I checked your room, but you weren’t there. One of your notebooks was open on your desk, and a pile of them sat on the floor next to your desk. I just took notice of them and left to search for you elsewhere.”

“Happen to take note of what was written in the notebook?” Tony asked, his attention momentarily diverted from his search, “She won’t tell me what she does all the time she’s writing in them.”

You froze slightly, then turned to look at Vision who was about to answer Tony. You met his gaze and leveled what Rhodey called your “you better not” look at him. Unfortunately, Vision was still quite bad at reading facial expressions as social cues,

“Yes, it seemed to be several lines of prose, poetry perhaps.” You rolled your head back on your shoulders at this and closed your eyes. “Let the hazing commence…”

“Oh-ho-ho, poetry is it?” Tony chortled in a teasing tone, now completely forgetting his search for his own notes, and fully invested in your torment.

“It’s not poetry Viz, they’re lyrics,” you corrected, grumbling.

Tony cocked his head and blinked a few times before nodding, “that makes more sense. What’cha writing songs about kido?”

“Nothing really. Sometimes, when I would sing, I just wished I had songs to fit the situation, so I started writing some down,” you answered with a shrug.

“Ever finished any?”

“No, I don’t actually know who to write songs really, I can’t even read music.”

Tony looked a little confused at this as he began to right the couch cushions and then sat down, facing you.

“Why did you not learn? Surely there are tutors for such things,” Vision asked, also tilting his head a bit, “it seems that would be beneficial to you.”

“Yes Viz, there are vocal coaches, but, well once the powers developed, it wasn’t really an option, I could have hurt someone.”

Tony nodded at this and the discussion closed as he resumed his search for the missing notebook. You took a moment to remind Vision that he shouldn’t share people’s private information without their consent, and went to your room to see if in fact you had accidentally taken one of Tony’s notebooks.

The next day, when you went to the lab, there was a book of blank music paper, and a beginners music theory book waiting in your usual spot.

Please let me know what you think, I would LOVE feedback!!!

[chocolatequeennk]

To Make Much of Time chapter 28 commentary track

This is an author’s choice selection for my birthday extravaganza. 

To Make Much of Time

Surprise! We’re here again. If you’ve been reading these commentary tracks, or if you’re familiar with my work, you know this means a Very Important moment is ahead for them. Usually a proposal. And since I headcanon that he took her here specifically to ask her to stay with him, that means I like to find some kind of significance to the planet itself. Which is where this section begins.

“It’s a place of infinite possibility, which isn’t how I usually see time. But here, anything can happen—even things I thought were impossible.”

Rose finally started to catch on to his purpose. “I like being in a universe of the possible, instead of the impossible.”

The hand on her waist flexed a little, then relaxed. “I’ve started to believe in the impossible since you entered my life, Rose. That starts and ends with believing you could actually want a damaged man like me.”

It’s interesting going back to this early in the series. On the one hand, even this early, Rose was able to follow his train of thought. On the other, Rose where they are now, over three years later, would have gotten it almost before he even said anything.

The Doctor’s perception of himself has never matched the way Rose sees him. I suppose that’s not completely uncommon--we tend to be hard on ourselves and see our loved ones through rose-coloured glasses--but it’s particularly poignant here. 

Because he’s already asked Rose to share a bond with him, and she’s already said yes. They’ve already been over the “I don’t deserve you” etc etc moment... and he still finds it almost impossible to believe Rose would want to share her life and mind with him.

Rose felt the uncertainty in the words that he was trying to hide, and she knew she’d have to take the next step. “So how exactly do we create this provisional bond?” she asked. “You’ve… well, all you’ve told me is what it does, not how it happens.”

[...]

I wanted two things to happen in this scene. First, I wanted them to be engaged before going into Doomsday. I wanted to bring them as close as I reasonably could (marrying them already would have felt like they were moving too fast, imo), so the stakes were that much higher at Torchwood. 

Second, I wanted them to form a telepathic bond. Again, that was part of raising the stakes for Doomsday, which already has ridiculously high stakes. 

Combining those two desires, I came up with the idea of a two-step bonding process. Bonding is typically written as a once and done thing. I’m not knocking that at all, I mean, I’ve written it that way at least a dozen times I think. But it does make sense that if a marriage bond (or whatever you call it) is permanent and unbreakable, there would be a preliminary stage so you could get used to the idea and make sure you really want to live with the other person in your head for centuries.

I am not the first author to use the term “provisional” for that bond, but given the definition of the word, it really is the best qualifier. “Providing or serving for the time being only; existing only until permanently or properly replaced; temporary.” (Dictionary.com)

“Since a marriage bond is unbreakable, as you pointed out, the couple would make a verbal commitment to that in front of witnesses before they formed the provisional bond. Then they would share a house for a period of time, to confirm their compatibility.”

Rose grinned at him. “We’ve already done that part.”

The Doctor rocked back on his heels, a glint in his eyes. “Yep! Successful cohabitation—check!”

I mean, okay... so the living together back then wasn’t romantic in nature. But given my headcanons regarding Time Lord sexuality and the role sex played in their relationships, “sharing a house” does not mean sex, or even necessarily sharing a bed. It means sharing a living space so you can be certain your partner doesn’t have any habits that drive you up a wall.

“And there aren’t any witnesses here.”

The rays soared through the sky behind the Doctor. “None that would understand what we were talking about, at least.”

The humour eased their nerves, and Rose squeezed his hands. “Then all that’s left is the bond, yeah? How does this work?”

Oh, Rose is so good for him. She refuses to let him get bogged down by his own thought processes. Remember how good we are together, Doctor? Focus on that and forget all the pomp and ceremony that would typically accompany a bond, and let’s just do it.

The Doctor stared at a spot over her shoulder. “We’ll form a telepathic connection, like we have the few times we’ve talked. Then I’ll ask you to bond with me. If you accept, the provisional bond is formed.”

My very first explanation of bonding. Given that this is a provisional bond and not the full, “minds unbreakably tied together” bond, it made sense to me that the process would be much simpler than it often is. This is, essentially, an engagement. And an engagement is entered into when one person asks and the other says yes. 

Rose frowned. “Not if, Doctor,” she said firmly. “When. When I accept.”

Oh, good catch Rose!

His eyes met hers, and she could see the fear and wonder he was projecting over their empathic connection. “May I?” he asked, lifting his hand to her temple. She nodded. “You too, Rose,” he added, bringing her left hand up to his right temple.

Why this gif? Because look at the way he’s asking her to meet him halfway. He doesn’t just reach down and take her hand, he holds his out and asks her to join him. Holding hands had always been them, and he wants them to mutually agree to step forward into this new life, with the new him, together.

And that’s the same thing that’s happening here. I mean sure, part of the reason she needs to touch his temples is so the telepathic circuit can be complete--him in her mind, and her in his. But that still comes down to a need for the decision to be completely mutual. 

So he puts his fingers to her temples and invites her to the same, and when the connection is complete, they both move into this shared space that will come to define their relationship.

They both sighed when the contact was formed, and Rose felt a sense of relief from the Doctor, like he’d been aching for this. You’ve been lonely for too long, Doctor, she told him.

I’d never been alone in my head before, not really. It was the worst part of the War. He gently redirected their conversation. But we aren’t here to talk about that.

The Doctor in Rose’s mind closed his eyes, and a moment later, they were standing in the canyon again. 

Now this--this was fun. They’re sharing a telepathic connection, so they’re not really aware of their physical setting. But I really wanted to keep going with the imagery of the rocks and cliffs etc... so telepathically, he projects them into the same place.

How’d you do that?

Inside your mind, you can be anywhere you want to be. He shifted so they were standing side by side holding hands again, clasped palm to palm with their fingers laced together. The Medusa Cascade was invisible, but Rose could still see the possibilities swirling in the air.

His fingers tightened in hers, and she glanced up at his face. How long are you going to stay with me?

Rose’s heart sped up. This was him, asking. She felt her own timeline and saw only one path forward. There was no universe in which she wouldn’t want the Doctor. Forever, she told him, never more sure of anything in her life.

The word carried the weight of authority, and they both shivered as it settled into their timelines, forming the provisional bond that would begin to tie their minds together. By mutual consent, they removed their fingers from each other’s temples, leaving the telepathic connection behind.

That word is so meaningful here. Because you see, they still don’t know yet that she really can stay with him forever. The third thing I wanted in this scene was for it to happen before they learned about her changed biology. I wanted him to choose to be with her for as long as her forever would last. I wanted him to finally let go of the last of his fears of losing her and just be grateful to have what they could. 

And then Rose says forever, and they can both feel the way that word settles into their timelines. Neither of them understand it yet--they don’t even begin to suspect what it might mean. But later, when they find out how Bad Wolf changed her, Rose brings it up. 

This is the start of a series-long focus on this word. It becomes almost a talisman between them, something they cling to when circumstances seem determined to tear them apart. It’s inscribed in both their wedding rings, and when Tim Latimer caught his prescient glimpse of who they are and the future they have, he said: 

“The Doctor and Rose Tyler,” he said in a distant voice. “Together, you burn at the centre of time and can see the turn of the universe. Even when the Wolf is silenced, your story will not be over.” His gaze sharpened. “You are… forever.”