#time to run around I’ve been sitting at my desk drawing for too long

[blitheringbongus]

@stiffyck friendship 🫵👁👁

[imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul]

The Prince - Chapter Nine

A/N: Hello! I did not expect this chapter to be as long as it is, but there was just too much to squeeze into this one! Only one more chapter left! I want to thank you all again for your likes, comments, and reblogs! It means the world to me and I hope you stick around for more Jace fics after this one is over. Like before, please see tag list in the comments.

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Reader Word Count: 5.2k Synopsis: Finally, all matters are put to bed as Jace meets with Baela, the reader meets with Rhaenyra, and Lord Blacktyde is dealt with.

Warnings: violence, blood, death

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Jace walks directly out of your chambers and heads for Baela’s. It is too early an hour to be visiting, but he cannot wait any longer. In this current situation, he needs to ensure your safety. Besides, he has put off this conversation with Baela for far too long.

He gathers his courage as he knocks on her door. To his surprise, Baela answers the door herself.

“Jace,” she says with a sigh, looking him up and down. “I’ve been expecting you.”

“I’m sorry it’s so early. I—” he pauses, taking a breath, slowing down, “Can I come in?”

She doesn't respond, but holds the door open. As he walks in, his thoughts are of you, your smile, your hand in his, and it gives him the strength to finally face her. To finally tell her the truth. When he does, she’s already looking at him with a sad smile.

“I know, you know,” she says softly.

“Baela, I'm sorry. I never meant for you to find out from anyone else but me. You're my closest friend, and--"

“I mean,” she says, walking into the room, sitting down on a couch, motioning for him to do the same. “I knew, I think even before I knew. Your feelings for her . . .” she sighs, “It’s the kind everyone wishes they’ll find.” She is still smiling, but there is a hurt behind her eyes, too. When she meets his gaze, she laughs.

“Don’t you dare pity me, Jacaerys. I’m glad that you’ve found love with Y/N. You deserve happiness.”

“So do you."

“I know,” she says with a laugh. “I see the way you look at her. I hear the way Rhaena talks about her budding relationship with Lord Corwyn. I want the same for myself.” She sighs. “I used to think I might find that with you.”

“I love you, Baela. It’s just—”

“I know,” she says, smiling gently at him. “I don't feel that way either. I love you, too, just . . ."

"Yeah," he says softly. She is quiet for a moment, studying her hands.

“If I break our betrothal, I don’t want Driftmark," she says. Jace's heart leaps once. He meets her eyes, seeing a determined glaze in them.

“What do you want?” he asks.

“King’s Landing is my home, I don’t want to leave it.”

“Baela,” he says with a smile, “I wouldn’t have you anywhere else. During the war, you were my confidant, my advisor, I need you here.”

“I know,” she says with a smirk, “I’d like to be Hand.” A grin spreads across Jace's face.

“Done.”

When Rhaenyra invites you to her quarters, a horrible dread fills your bones. You think of the only other time you were summoned by her, when Lord Blacktyde arrived. There is little doubt in your mind that this meeting has to do with him.

You think she'll probably have Barun and his ship waiting for her command, waiting to send you off to the Iron Islands, never to see this family you have grown to love again.

At your arrival, a guard leads you into the queen's chambers. The room is warm, like Jace's tends to be, a trait that must run in the family. Rhaenyra is standing over her desk, her brow furrowed as she reads the scroll in her hand.

"Your Grace," the guard says, drawing her eyes up.

"Y/N," Rhaenyra says.

"Your Grace," you say, curtseying.

"You may leave us," she says, dismissing the guard. Once the door closes behind him, she gives you a small smile.

"I'm sure you're wondering why I asked you here."

"Yes, Your Grace."

"Baela has agreed to end her betrothal to Jace," she says, making your heart leap. "I asked my son to hold off on telling you until I could speak with you myself.

"I have seen the way you look at Jace, and how he looks at you. I know there is love there," she says, a soft look on her face. "He deserves love."

"Yes," you say quietly, reflexively.

"But he also deserves a long life, an easier one than the one he has lived thus far. The arrival of Lord Blacktyde has made me reconsider my initial approval." She meets your eyes. "Tell me why you should marry my son."

"My Queen," you say, taking a deep breath to hopefully squash the growing panic within you. "I don't know why I should marry Jacaerys. I know there are more advantageous matches out there for him. I have no titles, no relationship to offer your family that you don't already possess.

"But I do know that I love your son, more than anything in this world. And I know he loves me," you say, your voice cracking with swelling emotion, "It is an honor I do not take lightly. For so long, I tried to fight my feelings, because I know I'm not good enough for him, because of my past. But your son has shown me that the love between us, the admiration and trust, it is not commonplace. It deserves to be treasured.

"I don't know why I should marry him. I probably shouldn't. But if you grant us leave, please know that I will do everything in my power to make sure he lives a long, happy life."

She studies you for a long moment. You fidget with the hem of your sleeve, waiting for some sign of her approval.

"What of Lord Blacktyde?" she asks. "If you are to reject him, he will turn his anger upon my family."

"I know," you say, dropping your head. "If it comes down to it, I would leave with him, if it meant keeping your family safe." She raises an eyebrow at you.

"That means a lot." She is quiet for another agonizing minute.

"I want to see more of Lord Blacktyde, to understand for myself the kind of man he is. Already, he has sullied his reputation after barging in here, making demands for you. Perhaps it wouldn't be the worst thing to lose his allyship. He is already ostracized in the Islands." That spark of hope leaps up into your throat.

"Your Grace?"

"If you would give up your happiness, your life, for my son, if you could walk away from your feelings, I can think of no stronger quality in a wife, and queen."

Jeyne is pacing in your quarters when you arrive back. The moment she spots you, she gasps, moving to your side.

"What did the queen say?" she asks. The tears that were threatening to fall during your meeting finally spill over.

"She said yes," you say, "Baela agreed to end their betrothal."

"And Barun?" Jeyne asks, her face flushing with excitement.

"I think she'll try to make some kind of agreement with him, she's inviting him to supper tonight to feel him out. Although, its my understanding that she wouldn't care either if the relationship falls through."

"Oh, Y/N," she says, wrapping you into a bear hug. "I'm so happy for you."

"Me too," you say with a laugh, wiping at your tears.

"Have you seen Jace yet?" she asks.

"Not since last night. I'm sure he knows, but I want to see him. To celebrate with him."

"Well, you'll see him tonight."

"Barun will be there, too," you say, "I won't be able to get close to him, to even let him know."

"The prince is clever," Jeyne says, "I think he found a way around Barun."

When you slip on the dress Jace sent, you are in awe. Jeyne always made sure you had beautiful, elegant dresses, but this one was of its own caliber. The beading made it sparkle in the light. The fabric clung to you favorably, the slightly lower neckline surely Jace's idea.

You feel absolutely beautiful, and stronger somehow. Clad in your future family's color, you feel some of their bravado embracing in you.

"If your father could see you now," Jeyne says, walking back into the room, also dressed in her finest.

"What would he think?" you ask.

"That he was a damn fool," Jeyne says, wrapping her arms around you. "He wanted the Vale, wanted its legacy to pass to your husband and sons. Look at you now," she says with a smile, "You're going to be queen."

You take in a breath. In your excitement, your love for Jace had overshadowed the fear of becoming queen. It's years away, but already, you worry what the people will think of you. Jeyne seems to notice your attitude change.

"It won't happen for a long time. You'll have time to prepare," she says, "But you'll be perfect."

"Thank you," you say, "For everything."

On the walk down to the dining hall, Jeyne tells you of her morning meeting with Barun. His terms hadn't changed from five years ago. He promised aid to the Vale in exchange for your hand. Jeyne had politely told him she needed to consider, and went on her way.

"How did he appear?" you ask.

"He cannot hide his emotions. He said all the correct things, but his face and voice held only frustration."

"I will be relieved when he is long gone," you say with a sigh, stopping in front of the doors to the dining hall.

"That day is near," she says. "Are you ready?"

"Yes."

The heavy oak doors open to reveal Jace and his family. He is joking with Aegon, but upon your arrival, he looks up. A smile immediately breaks across his face. He bids his brother goodbye and comes to your side. You can tell he wants to do more, but he only takes your hand and kisses it softly.

"You are beautiful," he says, warm eyes meeting yours.

"Thank you," you say. He transfers your hand to his arm and guides you into the room. "I had no idea you had such an eye for gowns."

"I don't," he says with a smile, "But this one was as easy find, once I pictured you in it." His eyes flick down to your chest. It dawns on you then, just how long it has been since you slept together. Was it really only a few days ago? It feels like longer now.

"I've missed you," you say lowly, "I--"

The heavy doors open again, this time revealing Lord Blacktyde. He stumbles almost instantly, and you realize he is already drunk. Jace must notice the way your body tenses, because he tightens his hold on your hand, just as you break away from him.

"Y/N," Jace says sternly, quiet enough for only you to hear. "He's going to find out eventually."

"Not here," you say, watching as Jeyne greets the lord. "Please," you say, glancing back to him. "For tonight, let's just pretend."

"Pretend that I'm not the happiest I've ever been?" he asks, making you smile.

"Yes. Just for this dinner. Tomorrow, we will figure out how to tell him."

"Very well," he says with a sigh. "Let me escort you to your seat, then." His mirth has vanished, and you hate that you can't celebrate this victory with him. For so long, you two have longed for this very moment.

As he guides you to your seat, you cross him and whisper, so only he hears, "I love you." He keeps his composure, but the look in his eyes conveys his response.

"Y/N," Joffrey says, sat to your right. "You look lovely tonight."

"Thank--"

"Evening, Your Highness," Barun says, startling you as he sits in the seat to your left, the one Jace was about to claim.

"Lord Blacktyde," Jace says through clenched teeth. You exchange a look, but Jace is too smart to start an argument now. Rhaenyra sits at the head of the table. Her eyes meets Jace's and she inclines her head to her left, the unoccupied chair there.

As everyone takes their seats, Jeyne, Rhaena, and Baela across from you, the younger boys further down the table, soft chatter breaks out. For the first time since you revealed yourself to her, Rhaena meets your eyes and gives you a soft smile.

"How is Morning?" you ask carefully, hoping a neutral topic might mend the gap.

"She's good," Rhaena says, "I should be able to fly with her soon, finally."

"Really?"

"Dragons grow quickly," she says with a shrug. "You should . . . come see her soon." A strange expression passes over her face.

"I'd like that," you say, with a smile. She cuts into her food, and you assume she's done speaking to you, until she looks back up once more.

"Red suits you," she says. It's as much acceptance as you'll get from her, but it means the world.

"Thank you."

"So," Joffrey says, pulling your attention to him. "Remember in the library, when you swore nothing had changed with you and my brother?"

"Yes," you say, glancing up the table to Jace. The prince meets your eyes with a smile.

"Care to make any amends to that statement?" he asks when you look back at him.

"No," you say, smirking.

"Even now, you won't trust me with your secrets?" Joffrey asks, a frown on his face.

"Today we are pretending," you say, "Ask me again tomorrow."

As the next course is served, you feel you must relieve Jeyne from entertaining Barun. Thus far, she has been one of the few to speak with him, save for a few remarks from Rhaenyra and Daemon.

"Are you eager to return to the Iron Islands, My Lord?" you ask.

"Yes," he says gruffly, his breath reeking of ale, "I can't stand the heat here."

"It's not so bad, one you get used to it," you say.

"I don't intend to. You shouldn't either."

"May I remind you, Lord Blacktyde, I have not agreed to any terms with you," Jeyne remind him.

"Yet."

"Excuse me?"

"You haven't agreed to any terms, yet," he says firmly. Jeyne doesn't break eye contact.

"Of course," she says. She glares him down as she reaches for her glass of wine. He looks away before she takes a sip.

"What is it you find so desirable about the Iron Islands?" Daemon asks, drawing your attention down the table again. For a quick moment, your eyes meet Jace. He isn't looking at you, though, because his sole focus is on Barun. His fist is clenched tightly atop the table.

"Is it the never ending damp? The sunless sky? Or are the stories true, that the Islanders fuck the creatures of the sea?" Daemon asks. The room is quiet. Barun's face grows redder by the second. But before the tension can break, one of the younger boys laughs. Whoever starts it gets the other one going, too, and soon everyone starts laughing, too. The only one who doesn't even try to fake one is Jace.

"Say what you will about our customs, your Targaryen ones are much stranger," Barun says. Your laughter dies in your throat.

"And which customs would those be?" Rhaenyra asks.

"You forget yourself," you say quietly, hoping only for Barun to hear it. He turns to glare at you, his eyes bloodshot.

"You'll do well to learn to hold your tongue," he says. "As I was saying," he continues loudly, "Such strange customs. You married your uncle after all, Your Grace." Jace's knuckles have gone white.

"That must be why you've had such trouble finding a husband," he says, turning his full, horrid attention to you.

"How is that?" you ask.

"Because you're not related to them!" he says, punching the last few words as if he's a jester.

"Lord Blacktyde."

"If only you had just been a little blonder," he chortles. "Although, that rules doesn't apply to these two." He motions to Joffrey, then to Jace. Your prince's face is white with rage.

"Need I remind you who you are dining with?" you ask. Barun rolls his eyes. He seems closer now, as he looks at you. You can smell the alcohol and see the beads of sweat at his brow. You move closer to Joffrey.

"When we get home to the Islands, this back talk will not be permitted."

"I believe my cousin already told you nothing has been decided." You reach for your win glass, casually, needing to pretend all is well.

"King's Landing," he says under his breath. "Leave it to them to teach a woman such disrespect." You exchange a glance with Jeyne, both of you knowing you learned that trait well before King's Landing.

"And what is it exactly that you find so lacking in King's Landing, My Lord?" you ask.

“People claim the Iron Islands are barbaric, but when brother argues with sister, we don’t put the burden on the whole of the realm.”

“Would you call usurping our queen’s throne ‘arguing?’” you ask, your eyes flitting to the end of the table where Jace, Rhaenyra, and Daemon all stare coolly at Barun.

“I just believe that if things had been handled more rationally, I wouldn’t have lost so many good men.”

“People were lost on all sides,” you say, your wine glass nearly shaking in your hand. Tension tightens along the table. All side conversations have ceased.

“That’s exactly what I mean,” he says to you. “You need to come to the Iron Islands. It’s not safe in King’s Landing.” He seems oblivious to the shifting mood of the dragon riders around him. Rhaenyra has a firm grip on Daemon’s arm, but the King Consort shares the same expression as Jacaerys. Barun leans in even closer, until your back is pressed into Joffrey’s arm, trying to put as much space between you as possible.

He continues, unbothered. “I mean, they couldn’t even protect their own children, how could—”

The glass in your hand shatters in your grip, jostling the rest of the table. Both Jace and Joffrey are on their feet with you, the latter of whom reaches for your hand. You pull it back, your focus solely on Barun. You aren’t alone in this, the entire family looks at him with cold-blooded anger.

“Apologize,” you say firmly. He laughs as he looks up at you.

“Excuse me?”

“Apologize,” you say. The glare he gives you is one that could kill. But before he can say anything more, he finally looks at the people around him.

“My apologies, I meant no insult,” he says with a forced smile.

“Of course,” Daemon replies, an equally vicious smile on his own lips.

You sit down, begging Jace to do so, too. His jaw is clenched so hard, you aren’t sure he’s actually breathing. You give him a look that says please, and finally he sits.

“Y/N,” Joffrey exclaims, reaching for your hand. Jutting from your palm is a large shard of glass. Blood drips between the two of you. “You need to see the maester.”

“I—”

“She’s fine,” Barun grunts, taking your hand from Joffrey. He drags the chunk of glass down your hand, lengthening the cut before pulling it out. You clench your other fist, and take in a quivering breath, but that is the only reaction you’ll give him.

“See? All better.”

“She’s bleeding,” Jace says plainly, looking at Barun in disgust.

“Haven’t you been told, boy? Girls always bleed.”

“I think I’ll escort Y/N to the maester," Jeyne says, standing quickly. You look nervously between Jace and Barun. You don't want to leave, fearful of where this anger might lead. “Y/N” Jeyne urges.

“Coming,” you say, standing up. Joffrey places his napkin in your bleeding hand softly. “Thank you.”

As you move out from between them, Barun looks as if he wants to stop you. His attention moves to the end of the table, and whatever he finds on Jace’s face stops him. As Jeyne leads you out of the room, you look back once, unsettled by what has happened, and usure of what is to come.

The maester has just finished stitching your hand when Jace walks into the room, Rhaenyra and Daemn following close behind. He doesn’t seem to care that Jeyne, his parents, and Maester Orwyle are there. The moment he is in front of you, he grabs your face and kisses you.

“I’m fine,” you say when he pulls away. He doesn’t respond, just takes your bandaged hand in his. He studies it for a moment, then kisses the back of your hand.

“Jace,” you say, looking up to meet his eyes. His hard exterior drops then, and he sits down next to you.

"How is your hand?" he asks.

"The maester says I'm lucky," you say, "I could have lost my grip if it had been deeper. He says it will only leave a scar." Jace looks livid.

“Did anything else happen after dinner?” you ask, hoping to change the subject as Jace’s hand holds your uninjured one.

“No, Barun shut up once you left," Daemon says.

“He’s revolting,” Jace says, giving your hand a squeeze.

“He is,” Jeyne says, joining your small group. “And I’m afraid he’ll only get worse, when Y/N rejects him.”

“He’s one man,” Jace say firmly. His thumb traces over your skin, both to soothe you and to remind himself that you’re there. “He is disgusting, but he is not invincible. We’ll arrange to tell him in a group and then send him back to the Iron Islands.”

“And if he threatens the Vale?” Rhaenyra asks. "Or dares to threaten us?"

“Then I will fly there myself and defend my future wife’s home,” he says proudly. "And ours." You meet his eyes and give him a gentle smile.

"We will meet with him tomorrow morning," Rhaenyra says. "Tell him firmly that Y/N rejects his suit, and that if he leaves willingly, the Iron Islands will be rewarded. Hopefully, that will be enough."

The plan is set. The next day, Barun will be informed by Jeyne, in front of Queen Rhaenyra, Prince Jacaerys, and a slew of Kingsguard, that she rejects his suit. It is Jeyne’s idea that you stay out of sight, and you don't fight her on it. Barun is possessive. If you were there, you aren’t sure what he would do.

But the waiting is agony. When the time comes for them to go down to the throne room, you are confined to your chambers. You can’t help but pace, worrying what might be happening.

It’s an hour before a knock comes from your door. Eagerly, you run towards it and whip it open, having dismissed your lady’s maid half an hour earlier, because her worrying was just as bad as yours.

Panic surges through you, though, as you open the door and find not Jace or Jeyne, but Barun. He stands outside your door, a menacing look on his face, his nostrils flared. On the ground next to him, is the guard assigned to your chambers.

“Lor-Lord Blacktyde,” you stutter, backing up as he presses into your room.

“Now you’ll see me,” he says. His face is red, his tread heavy. He radiates an anger so great you haven't seen before.

“You shouldn’t be here,” you say.

“Why not? Expecting whatever lousy lordling you’ve been seeing behind my back?” he asks, still stalking towards you. Step for step, you back up, too.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about—”

“Don’t lie to me!” he yells as your back hits the post of your bed. Quickly, you jump aside, putting some more distance between you.

“You forget yourself, My Lord,” you say shakily.

“I forget myself?” he asks with a laugh. “You were betrothed to me, but coming here made you forget your oath.”

“You married another,” you say, “How was I to know you’d kill her and come crawling back for me?” Anger flares in his eyes as he moves towards you. His hands reach for your arms, but you step back just in time. Barun catches his knee on the edge of a sofa, growling at the pain.

“This behavior will not be acceptable when I bring you to the Islands. You will be my wife and you will obey me."

“I’m not leaving with you," you say icily.

“The hell you aren’t."

“Let me remind you, that Prince Jacaerys promised war upon your doorstep, should you put up any fuss at my refusal.”

“The prince,” he says with a scoff.

“Should you comply, he will see that the Iron Islands are rewarded,” you say. Barun is silent for a long moment, considering. You think his anger might have abated, but when he looks up again, there is no life behind his eyes. They are dark like you know him to be, and you truly fear for your life then.

“The prince,” he says again. “The prince.”

“My lord, I really think you should leave now,” you say, moving towards your door slowly. As you take a few steps, Barun lets out a huff, his eyes locked on your movements. You stay still, waiting for your opportunity to react, when a pounding comes from the door.

“Y/N!”

“Jace!” you call back, immediate relief seeping through you at his voice. There might be more commotion in the hallway, but you can’t decipher any of it but his voice.

“You whore,” Barun mutters, drawing your attention back to him. “You fucking whore!”

“Please, let’s just end this peacefully,” you say, again stepping towards the door.

“The prince is going to save you?” Barun asks with a laugh. “Not only are you a whore, you’re stupid, too. He’s not getting close to you. And if he does, I’ll rip—” While he was rambling, you positioned yourself enough that while he is distracted, you shove an end table at him, catching him in the stomach. He hunches over as you run for the door.

The lock won’t turn, your hands are shaking so badly. You hear Barun approaching, and as you finally throw open the door, Barun’s hands grab your arms, pulling you back.

“Not so fast,” he mutters. You fall to your knees, trying to break away from him, but his grip only tightens, this time in your hair, as he drags you across the room. Jace runs in with Joffrey in tow.

“Let her go, Blacktyde!” Joffrey yells, his face paling when he sees you. Barun stops moving and lets go of your hair when he sees them.

“Oh, Y/N, look who it is,” he says. In response, you kick his leg, knocking him to his knees. You make to move from him, but he grabs your ankle in the last second. Jace and Joffrey run at him, pulling him back, but not before you get a kick to his face.

Barun punches Joffrey hard, knocking him against the far wall. As Jace continues to hit him, taking his fair share of punches, you struggle to stand up. As you do, you see Barun reach for the knife at his side.

“No!” you scream, running towards them. You grab the back of Barun’s shirt, pulling him back as hard as you can, until the knife falls from his hand.

“Stupid bitch!” he bellows, turning around quickly, his hand outstretched. Pain erupts across your face as his back-handed slap hits. For a moment, you cannot see anything. But when your vision clears, you see Barun, his hands wrapped around Jace’s neck, and in that moment, you know it’s one or the other. He is never going to stop. There is no deal to be made where he will be happy enough to let you go.

As you get to your feet, the knife on the floor glitters in the light. You take it in your hand, trying not to hear the sounds of Jace’s struggle, Joffrey's grunts of pain as he tries to stand. All your focus is on the move Jace taught you, so many months back, on the sparring grounds. The knife is much shorter than the sword you had practiced on, but the movement is the same. Your aim is the same.

Centering yourself, you get a tight grip on the knife. It is Jace or Barun, you remind yourself. Jace or Barun.

You lunge.

For a moment, looking at the knife wedged into Barun’s lower back, you think you’ve must have missed, angled incorrectly. But then, red starts to seep across his back. You step back as Barun drops Jace, who gasps for breath on the floor. Barun looks back at you, shock and betrayal etched on his face.

“You cun—” he coughs, dropping to his knees. He reaches around for the knife, but he can’t reach. Blood begins to pool from his mouth and it’s clear his strength is fading rapidly. While you still have the sense to do so, you move to Jace’s side, helping him sit up. Red marks mar his neck, but he is alive. You wrap an arm around him, and he does the same, both of you watching as Barun takes his final breaths.

For a moment, you just sit there in silent horror, watching the life fade from his eyes. The blood quickly pools around him, at the same time that your breathing quickens. Your adrenaline has cooled quickly. Tears now fall from your face.

Jace notices immediately, tucking you into his arms. He shushes you quietly as Joffrey comes to your side. He quietly checks in with him, noticing the blood dripping from his nose.

“You had to, Y/N,” Joffrey says quietly. The fact only makes your tears come more violently.

"He's right," Jace says, "You had to. He would have killed all of us.”

That night, you stay in Jace’s room. Neither of you want to leave each other’s side. Besides, your room is covered in Barun’s blood.

Jace leaves you alone only long enough to speak with his mother, but even that time isn't long. He is back minutes later, and the look of relief when he sees you again is unmistakable.

Jace holds you tightly when the two of you get into bed. Your arms wrap around him the same, but sleep avails you. Every time you close your eyes, you see Barun’s black ones. Every shift of the castle sounds like his pounding fist. Too often, you look up at Jace, the bruising on his neck, making sure he’s real, that he’s still there. Each time you do, he is already looking at you, too.

“Y/N,” he says softly, brushing your hair back with a gentle hand. “We need to get some sleep.”

“I know,” you say, snuggling closer to his chest. For a while, you are both silent.

“You saved my life, you know,” he says, whisper soft.

“Jace.”

“You did,” he says, the intensity in his voice bringing your eyes to his. “I can never repay yo—”

“Oh shut up,” you say with a roll of your eyes. “I told you, you saved me first, when you promised I could come here. And every moment after. Don’t forget you came to my rescue.”

“Y/N,” he says, hand on your chin, “I’m trying to say thank you.”

“Oh,” you say, smiling gently. “I’d do it again if I had to, for you.”

“I pray you never do."

“I love you, Jace,” you say, He smiles as he brings your lips to his.

“I love you, Y/N.”

[fadingdaggerr]

hey! I just wanted to see if I could request a Melissa x Reader fic where basically r is a teacher at the school and her best friend is ava, and r has the fattest crush on melissa ever but the only ones who know are ava, barbra, and mr johnson (bc dude knows everything)

and ava and barbra are trying to be wingman because melissa likes r. so just a bunch of mutual pining and fluff. and when they confess it’s snowing.

if you can’t do that that’s totally fine! but if you do thanks in advance and take your time

as you ever were

pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader

summary: request above | 8k

includes: mutual pining, ava and barb meddling, kinda dialogue heavy oops, these bitches Oblivious, author is a classics nerd

warnings: (minimal) they/them pronoun use for R, sexual innuendos, (brief) alcohol consumption, kissing/light making out

note: sorry i took so long getting to this req. school started up and work is genuinely insane. plus i got a little too into writing this so editing too a little while. i actually really like how this turned out :)

Unforecasted frozen rain forced recess to be inside, everyone was to just stick to their classroom since there was no time to prepare the gymnasium for indoor recess on such short notice. The kids spent the first five minutes of recess begging you to go outside, to which you open the window, to which Sean says oh, hell no, resulting in a scolding from you.

Within five more minutes, your teacher-senses begin to tingle. Something is wrong. Looking up from your record book, you glance around the classroom until your eyes land on Karam. The seven year old had just moved to Philly with his parents a few weeks ago, and with this being his first week at a new school, he has been understandably frazzled. The boy is facing towards your desk, away from his classmates, sitting on a beanbag chair and crying to himself.

Immediately, you rise out of your chair and approach him gently, lowering yourself to sit criss-cross in front of him. “Hey, Karam. What’s going on?” you ask calmly, not trying to draw attention to his state nor baby him. The only response you get is a shake of the head, so you ask, “would you like some alone time right here?” Another shake of the head, another question, “do you want to talk alone, just you and me? You can bring Pickle.”

This offer seems to appease him, he instantly stands and goes to his backpack to grab his beloved stuffed sea lion. You get to the doorway and keep your hand on his shoulder where he stands just out of sight of the other kids, hoping no one will see him and decide to get nosy.

“Okay, chickens. I’m going to run across the hall very quickly, keep doing what you’re doing. Ashante, honey, you’re in charge,” you say with a little grin, it becomes a full smile when the girl salutes you.

Once you’re in the hall, Karam grabs your hand tightly with big tears ready to fall, and stays close as you cross diagonally to some of your students' previous second grade classroom. You lean into the doorway, still keeping Karam out of sight of others, and knock to gain a certain redhead’s attention. She’s quick to get to you, seeing a sort of urgency on your face.

“What’s up?”

“Can you watch my class, please? I’ve got a situation here,” you tip your head to the side to gesture to Karam, still gripping your hand and sniffling. “I promise I’ll pay you back somehow, lunch, lunch duty, recess duty, whatever. Just, please?”

Melissa takes one look at you pleading eyes and knows she can’t say no to you, especially not with a sad little friend by your side. “You owe me nothing. I’ll bring the kids to my room and you can come get ‘em after,” she says with a tone she hopes shows she’s being genuine.

“Thank you, thank you so much,” you rush out, immediately your attention falling back to the tears rolling down Karam’s cheeks. Melissa scoots over to your room, corralling the kids across the hall with an excited tone to keep their eyes on her and not you and their classmate.

With the extra bodies in the room, Melissa finds that the doorway was a good place to observe all the kids in her room. Though she tries to keep her eagle eyes on the students, they slowly slide to your form in the hall, crouched down below the boy’s eye level with his hand in yours. Her ears feel like a radio, tuning into the hushed volume you keep.

“It’s okay to be sad, buddy. Everything and everyone is so new, you’re allowed to be scared,” you say as you wipe his cheeks with a tissue, “and you and I both know that baba and daddy would never bring you somewhere that wasn’t safe. And Pickle, he’s here for you, and so am I.”

The boy leans into you for a hug, and your arms wrap tightly around him. Melissa tries not to stare, but she’s unable to take her eyes off the interaction. The way you rock him gently side to side, it was clear you weren’t letting go until he did. She vaguely remembers you mentioning that being a rule of yours when you first started at Abbott, when you took over her third grade class and her entire field of vision. 

Melissa averts her eyes back to the kids as the hug ends, but she still listens discreetly. You wipe Karam’s face as you speak, “let’s go get you some water, okay? And maybe, if you use those puppy eyes, nurse Makiah will let you pick out a lollipop. Does that sound like a deal?”

“Do we have to come back to recess?” The shyness in his voice makes you pout.

“Yes, because Miss Schemmenti was super nice to watch all our friends for me while we’re talking, and I’m sure she’d like her room back,” you peek up to Melissa quickly, “and when we get back, we’re gonna say a big ‘thank you,’ alright?”

“Yeah,” Karam answers quietly, but his next words are so quiet you barely hear them, “thank you.”

“Of course, chicken. Let’s go.” Melissa pretends she’s not watching you walk down the hall with a hand still in Karam’s, her eyes switch back to her class when you disappear around the corner.

When you return to get the kids from Melissa, she instead insists that you just sit out the rest of recess in her room since the students were already playing together. That’s the only reason, nothing else. You keep a cautious eye on Karam as he sits down to draw with one of Melissa’s students, and once you see him start to arrange his colors, you drift your attention to the woman next to you.

“Thank you, seriously. And I will be paying you back for this,” you say, bumping your shoulder with hers.

“I said you ain’t gotta do anyth-”

You cut her off, “I said. I’m. Paying. You. Back. Just accept it, I’m not budging.”

All she gives as an answer is a huff through her nose, but the smile that stretches her lips makes you feel fluttery. Her smile is not a rare sight, but it’s rare that you get to see it this close. When she faces away for only a couple seconds, you take the time to just take her in. Beautiful.

In the hall, a conversation between Barbara and Ava about clearing an extra bulletin board for the kindergarteners art projects was halted when they caught Melissa watching you with Karam. Both women looked at her, unseen even by Melissa’s typically sensitive attention, and all they saw was a soft putty of a woman. When you returned to the classroom, they slowly got closer to see what was going on, curiosity drawing them in.

All they could see were gentle, shy smiles and hidden glances of adoration for each other. It clicked in their minds at the same moment. Their best friends had it bad for each other.

Their plan was formed in a single glance.

—☽—

“So… What are you gonna do about Red?” Ava asks as she reaches the midpoint of her braid.

You’re sitting behind her on a cushion, parting a section in the back of her head to start on a braid yourself. Your focus makes your response time slower and quieter than usual, “what d’ya mean?”

Ava’s chuckles, “how you’ve got the hots for Schemmenti.”

Her obvious tone makes you stall, too long, but you try to deflect anyway, “I’ve got no clue what you mean.”

She laughs. Ava laughs and it would be in your face if she weren’t so busy with her hair. She doesn’t need to turn to know you’ve got that shocked expression on your face, the one where your eyes are wide and blank, face otherwise neutral, but she knows the expression well. The first time she’d seen it was the day she met you in seventh grade, and she proclaimed you her best friend to everyone in the cafeteria, just a mere three hours after meeting each other.

“Don’t lie to me, Gremlin,” she jokes, using her nickname for you she adopted from your favorite movie as a kid, “I know when you like someone, and you want that Italian sub to Italian dom you.”

“I hate you,” you groan, “if you mention even a single thing to her Ava, I will buy out all the caramel hair from the beauty supply and you’ll never see it again.” She gasps, as if it were a real threat you could carry out on your budget, but she knows how serious you are. With a roll of her eyes, Ava decides to hold off until you’re not braiding her hair to annoy you more.

Much later into the night and all there is really left to do is trim, seal, and add products to her roots, Ava knows she can’t let the topic of the previous conversation go. She decides to speak up while she trims the last few front pieces and you pick up the hair packaging and combs from around the room.

“Just saying though, if you stopped making ‘I wanna have your babies’ eyes, you could ask her out,” Ava tries to explain. She almost adds a what’s the worst that could happen? but she knows exactly where your mind will go.

“I don’t wanna ‘have her babies,’ you freak,” you sigh as you get some hot water, “I just… I dunno. I don’t want to ruin the friendship I have with her when she inevitably rejects me.”

She’s obsessed with you, she won’t reject you, Ava wants to say. Even if others, and even herself, would label her selfish, the one thing she doesn’t ever let slide is you letting your insecurity get the best of you. She likes her extra job as your personal hype-woman when you get in your head. Ava weighs her option, “well… you could put out some feelers. Invite her somewhere or, I don’t know, look her in the eye when you talk to her.”

“You’re right,” you say with a gruffness that she knows is defeat. If she can just get you and Melissa talking, interacting more, then maybe she and Barb can figure out a way to worm you two together.

“You do like her, don’t you?” She knows the answer, she wants you to say it though.

There’s a deep inhale before you answer, “of course I do. She- she’s so- I do like her, so much. Like, I want to bite a chunk out of the table when she looks at me.”

“Yeah, don’t do that, we don’t know where they’ve been,” Ava says with a touch of disgust, “and she’ll think you’re more of a freak than you already are.” She rightfully earns a smack on the shoulder at that one.

Dipping the ends of her hair into the hot water, you think silently. Ava has a point, if you spent even a tenth of the time you spend thinking about Melissa, when she was right in front of you, talking to her instead, you’d probably not be so nervous at the thought of making eye contact with her. Sometimes it was nice though, just getting to look at her, seeing her easy smile when she speaks to Barbara and the playful glint in her eye when she lovingly picks on Jacob. Whenever her attention falls on you, you shy away. Maybe Ava has a point.

At Barbara and Melissa’s weekly brunch that same Saturday morning, their conversation falls down a similar path.

Ever the professional deterrer, Melissa manages to push the conversation away from the topic of you, trying to keep Barb on Gerald or bible club. Usually her friend catches the hint to stay away from the topic, but there’s no way she was getting out of this one.

“So… are we gonna keep beating around the bush or are we going to talk about it?”

Melissa just sips her mimosa, suddenly interested in the painting across the room.

“Melissa.”

What… interesting brush strokes.

“Melissa Ann, so help me.”

She turns back, “yes, Barb?”

“Don’t ‘yes, Barb’ me. Spill,” there is no room for argument.

“There’s nothing to spill, Barb,” Melissa says, and she means it. It’s clear Barbara had picked up on her feelings for you, but nothing had been done to go past acknowledging she cared for you.

Barb tilts her head to the side, “oh, really? So, we’re just going to pretend that you’re not utterly infatuated with everyone’s new favorite third grade teacher?” Melissa stares at Barbara with wide eyes, thrown off by the blunt nature of her inquiry. Her friend only shakes her head, “for the good Lord’s sake, Melissa. Anyone with eyes can see you’ve got feelings for them, and I know you know that too.”

Green eyes shift away from brown, and they instead stare at the drink in front of her, nervous hands coming up to play with the umbrella to keep them busy instead of shaking in her lap. What Barb said wasn’t untrue, she knows it. Barbara Howard is always right in the end. But that isn’t where the apprehension in her gut stems from.

“Yeah, yeah. I know,” Melissa mumbles, insecurity from her mind reaching her throat.

Barbara can sense it and tries a softer approach, “I think I can say on good authority that the feelings are probably mutual. You could give it a shot, they’d be lucky to have you.”

“And what’s that good authority?”

“My eyes,” Barbara deadpans, her face reading are you serious?

The conversation stops there, more of a self preservation move for the kindergarten teacher. Underneath the silence from Melissa, it’s obvious her mind is going in circles trying to weigh her options. Did she have feelings for you? Yes. But would she do anything if she wasn’t one hundred percent certain you’d return her feelings? No. She was almost certain you didn’t, you rarely ever looked her in the eye and you got all quiet and mumbly when she spoke.

Conclusion: Barb’s nuts.

—☽—

When Monday comes back around, you feel like the air in the lounge, or at least around your table, is different. Barbara’s eyes keep shifting between you and Melissa in what she thinks are subtle glances, but the constant eyes on you start making you nervous. Shifting uncomfortably for a moment, you rise from your chair to go to the coffee pot to get away from the prying. While your back is to them, a different form of attention falls on you. Olive eyes scan over you with a soft glint, taking the opportunity to admire you when you’re not looking. Her attention feels different from Barb’s, you can feel it without seeing it. It’s warm, all consuming.

When you turn back around, you can see a section of Melissa’s hair swinging slightly from motion. She was looking at you, and she was hiding it horribly. Instead of mentioning it, you just sit and check your school email. In the weekly scheduling, you see that the recess duty that you typically had with Mrs. Benning from sixth grade, was now with Melissa for the entire week.

Your eyebrows jump slightly at the find, before you have to fight an eye roll at Ava’s obvious meddling. Seeing this, Melissa speaks up, “something interesting?”

“No, no,” you barely get out at a normal cadence, “just switches in the schedule, wasn’t expecting it.”

She nods slowly, “are you… not okay with that?” You try not to pout at the insecurity that bleeds just the smallest amount in her question.

“Of course I’m okay with it, no reason not to be,” you hope your genuineness was showing, “just different is all.” A muted smirk crosses her lips before she takes a sip of her coffee to cover her face, you pretend not to notice the move, as well as the butterflies swarming in your stomach. You turn your attention to your phone in your lap.

To AVA ♔ : you’re not slick

From AVA ♔ : good thing i wasn’t trying to be

From AVA ♔ : get up in that cannoli

To AVA ♔ : speaking privileges revoked until further notice

You try to not think about the prospect of an extra half hour with Melissa today, and for the rest of the week, but the thought of her crosses your mind and brings a smile to your face. When you are walking your kids back from music, you selfishly take the extra second you’re in the hall to glance towards Melissa’s classroom. Cursive letters on the board in her loopy handwriting being narrated by her expressive face and fast-moving hands. Another grin crosses your lips before you spin on your heel back to your room.

As lunch rolls around, there’s a giddy feeling in your chest that grows with every passing second. Was she even going to talk to you? Maybe not, but time with Melissa is time with Melissa. Just when you’re sliding your gloves on, there’s a tap at your door. Red hair tucked under an Eagles hat and thick black jacket, she’s never been more beautiful.

Winter at Abbott meant beautifully crafted snowmen that had just a touch of dirt on it, but the kids just decided it was freckles. Most of them were working together on their snowmen, while others were trying to see how long they could hang upside down on the monkey bars in their snow clothes. Melissa, after five minutes of churning the idea over in her mind, moves closer to you, the nylon of your jackets making a fssh sound as they brush together gently. The red on her cheeks was likely from the cold, but the darker shade that blossoms at you smiling and turning to her, that’s all you.

The silence between you is easy, for once it doesn’t make Melissa skeptical. It’s comforting, no nervous rambling or awkward attempts to fill the silence, just peaceful silence as your shoulder moves closer to hers.

Tuesday is just the same, with Melissa coming to your classroom to pick you up for recess duty. Wednesday you meet her in your doorway. The peaceful silence is broken when you check your phone to see copious texts in the teacher group chat, most of which are Janine and Jacob and only two are Gregory. All you let out is a little hum.

“What’s going on?” Melissa asks from beside you, her eyes staying on Marcus attempting to climb on top of the monkey bars.

“Groupchat’s going crazy. Janine and Jacob want a ‘teacher’s night out plus Ava,’ and they’re asking if everyone’s good to go next Friday at seven,” your tone suggests a bit of disinterest, but if Melissa goes, you could be easily persuaded.

Her brows scrunch for only a half second before asking, “what bar?”

“The Penman’s Alcove? Guess Jacob suggested it,” you say after scrolling through the nearly forty messages.

“Sounds like Jacob suggested it,” she says with a sputtered laugh. To her delight, you chuckle from beside her, and she brings her full attention to you, “you going?”

You bite your inner lip and flick your eyes to the side, “maybe. Are you?”

“Maybe.”

—☽—

Ava, who always demands you pick her up when you go out, insists on driving to the bar. When she gets to your apartment and does a once over of your jeans and loose-fitting sweater, she gives you a face of disapproval.

“That is not club attire. What ladies are you going to pick up if you’re dressed like a grandma?”

You roll your eyes as you move to let her in, “it’s not a club, it’s a bar. That Jacob picked out. And I’m not trying to ‘pick up’ ladies?”

“Aw, you’re already committed to Schemmenti. Cute,” her laugh at her own comment is cut off by the pillow you whip at her head, another ready if she pipes up again, “no need to get violent, I’ll stop.”

Her only reply is a huff as you grab your boots and shove in your fluffy-socked feet. Ava rises off the couch, leaving the pillow-turned-missile behind. When she’d asked you earlier in the day if ‘your woman’ was coming to the bar, you’d only shrugged, but with a quick text to Barbara, Ava knew the redhead would be there.

Barbara and Ava had made a pact, that despite their differing reasons for not wanting to go, would only attend the outing to insure that you and Melissa would both go as well. It had taken some convincing on Melissa’s end, but the moment her best friend said your name, her tune changed. She agreed to go as long as she drove herself there, so that when she wanted to inevitably leave early, she could.

As Ava pulls into the parking lot of the bar, neither of you hold back the rolling of your eyes. It was very Jacob. You share a look with your best friend, silently asking what did we agree to?

The Penman’s Alcove is tiny, shoved into one of the smallest brick buildings either of you had ever seen. One window was completely blocked off by a decorative book display, the other gave view to the wooden bar top and wooden support beam that was turned into a cylindrical bookcase with lights weaving around it. What is lacking in space, it clearly made up for in atmosphere.

“You both came!” Jacob’s voice echoes from the door to where you and Ava stand as you evaluate the building. You immediately elbow Ava to stop the joke that you could feel on the tip of her tongue. 

“Said I would, didn’t I?” you asked as you got closer, appreciating how Jacob switched his arms from the instinctive hug he wanted to give to giving you a gentle pat on the shoulder. “Anyone else here yet?”

“Well, Janine, Gregory, me, duh, Barbara, and Melissa just got here, so,” his voice becomes a little sheepish, “you’re the last ones here.”

“Fashionably late,” you and Ava say at the same time, though your tone is more flat since you only said it because you knew she would.

Walking into the bar, the small space didn’t feel bigger, just smaller as you realized just how many shelves of countless books there were. The twenty person capacity limit was starting to make sense as you quickly side stepped around other people to keep up with Jacob. Everyone comes into view, but as green eyes meet yours, cameo light surrounds her and she’s all you can see. The stutter in your step is noticed by no one but Ava, who subtly grabs your arm to pull you closer to everyone, closer to Melissa.

Greetings and small talk fill the space, but all of it is background noise. When Janine finally releases you from her energetic retelling of the four hours it’s been since she last saw you, your attention is finally able to rest on the woman who it had been dying to be on. Melissa sees your eyes flick around until they find her, and she curses how her heart flutters at the way you move towards her in an instant.

Leaning your arms on the bartop, you lean over slightly to order a rum and coke before turning entirely towards the redhead. Even though it had been barely four hours since you’d seen her, you felt yourself missing her. Her eyes, her hair, her laugh, especially the one she barks out when she can’t control herself and laughs suddenly. Something in the navy shirt she wore instead of her bright greens and pinks told you she wanted to fit into the environment, like she didn’t want anyone to see her in such a… Jacob place. Her attempt to keep attention away, yet for you it was impossible not to be drawn to her.

Just like every other time you saw her, your eyes quickly dipped to her neck, a tiny smile passing your lips at her Saint Dominic pendant she had received from her Nana before she’d passed. When you met her eyes, the small smile on your lips grew, and hers did to match.

“Thought you’d never show up,” Melissa says playfully, but with a quiet tone, her words only for you.

“Surprised you even showed,” you mimicked her tone.

Melissa weighs her options before replying, “Barbara told me I should, told me I can count it as my good act of the year.” She relishes in your silent laugh, little puffed breaths leaving you as you turn your face away from her just for a moment to hide. Melissa had realized three days into knowing you that this was her favorite thing, this quiet laugh of yours, she knew that when you turned away, it meant it was genuine.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here,” you say with earnest, “if that's any consolation.”

A smile plays on glossy, pink lips, “I’m glad I’m here, too.”

Two drinks later, and you found yourself meandering through the shelves of books, naturally being drawn to the fantasy section that was oddly close to the classics you also enjoyed. The small bar had reached capacity only a half hour after you’d arrived, and the bustling conversation was starting to pierce your eardrums. The cushions on the floor had become your new seat, in this almost-quiet corner.

The light vibrations of footsteps approaching brings your mind out of the dragon story you were falling into. Your eyes look up to see red hair contrasting against the shadows from the shelves. Melissa lowers herself carefully onto the cushion beside you, taking utmost care in not getting too far into your space. Her finger pokes the book in your hands, pushing it closer to you to read the cover, only a low hum leaving her throat.

She bumps her knee with yours, a silent you alright? She’s seen you get overwhelmed at assemblies and work parties before, often keeping an eye on you as you stuck to a corner, too polite to leave the room. You bump her knee back, a little smile on your lips, a quiet I’m okay. Melissa plays with the creases in her jeans as she tries to think of what to say, but you beat her to it.

“You know what’s fucked? You can’t even check out the books here,” you state with exasperation. “What’s the point of having all these books if you can only read them if you come here?”

Melissa warms with affection at your word, “No one would bring them back, hon.”

“I would,” you mumble with an incredulous tone in your voice, “but no, not even a checkout fee or, I don’t know, collateral.”

“Collateral!” Melissa laughs out. “Gonna hand over your watch to hold onto until you bring the book back?”

“I’d give them my car for those early editions of Mary Shelley’s work,” you half-joke as you nod towards the faded green and blue books. You look at Melissa for a moment, reading her face quickly before leaning into her space, “don’t even suggest stealing them.”

“Would they even notice?”

“These IPA-enjoyers? Definitely, unfortunately.”

Melissa never cared much for the classics, especially not the ones assigned to her in school. She preferred the historical fiction and true crime novels her grandfather introduced her to, but there was something intriguing about the ones you were showing her. There is peace in the way your fingers trace over the pages, a sort of reverence in how you hold each book. Sylvia Plath and Emily Brontë, Greek tragedies and comedies, they never sounded this interesting as they did when they came from your lips.

The world outside of this hidden corner continues to disappear around the two of you, the prying eyes peeking around the corner are completely lost on the two of you. Your eyes on the books, Melissa’s eyes on you. Ava and Barbara’s eyes, on the other hand, were flicking between the two of you before finding each other's eyes. A shared nod began the next step in their plan.

Ava, in a highly out of character fashion, quietly left the bar without saying anything to anyone, and drove off towards Iggy’s apartment. Barbara, pretending not to notice, went back to her conversation with Gregory regarding what he plans on growing in the garden for springtime. It’s Janine who notices Ava’s lacking presence, she peeks out into the parking lot, and sure enough, the silver car you’d arrived in was gone.

In a child-like fashion, Janine tugs on Barbara’s sleeve to gain her attention, “Ava’s gone.”

“What?” Barbara responds with faux surprise.

“Ava, she left. Like, gone. Not here,” without having to ask Barbara to be the one to tell you, Janine was definitely hinting at not being the one to say your best friend ditched you here.

The kindergarten teacher follows the maze of shelves, steps quickening as she gets closer to hushed voices in the furthest corner. In your own little, say you and Melissa, her legs stretched out as she leaned back against her hands while you sat close to her in criss-cross. There are two piles of older books in front of you, ones you had already shown her and the ones you were going to, and Melissa seemed completely unbothered by the infodumping you laid upon her.

Barbara politely clears her throat to make you aware of her presence, watching you nearly jumping away from Melissa as you realize the closeness between you. Pretending not to notice she speaks carefully, “dear, I just wanted to tell you that Ava left a couple of minutes ago.”

The nerves you felt dissipate, annoyance and a small anger taking its place, “what do you mean? She fully just left? Did she even say anything?”

“No, she must’ve snuck out. Janine noticed before the rest of us that she’d taken off,” Barbara is impressed by her own ability to fib so easily.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, keeping yourself from exploding. You rise from your spot next to the redhead, who is quick to follow in your stride, and grab your phone to call you friend. Speedily stepping through the shelves, you step outside as you press Ava’s contact.

She picks up on the second ring, which only pisses you off further, “what’s up, boo?”

“Where the fuck are you? You did not just seriously ditch me,” you waste no time.

“That little library was not the vibe. Plus, you were too busy nerding it up with Red,” she jokes, almost mockingly.

“You were my ride, Ava,” you sigh, “this isn’t cool, especially when I’m going to have to ask Janine to drive me home since she carpooled with Jacob and Gregory.”

“I know who you can ask for a ride,” the laugh she speaks through only hammers home your aggravation, “maybe she’ll give you more than one.”

A hard groan escapes your throat, “you owe me big time, asshole.”

“Yeah, yeah. Thank me later,” she hangs up on you before you can respond, the beeping tone of the disconnection feels more mocking than your friend straight up laughing in your ear.

When you step back inside, your brows are furrowed, deep creases on your forehead as you practically steam with anger. Never before would Janine, Gregory, or Jacob say they were intimidated by you, but right now, they can’t deny that you are almost as frightening as Melissa’s angry walk. Barbara looks at Melissa pointedly, motioning with her head towards you to tell her to talk to you.

The redhead is already in motion, immediately in front of you, “what did she say?”

Sarcasm and irritation drop from your voice, “the ‘library’ wasn’t ‘her vibe,’ so she’s apparently ditching me to ride home with Gregory and the Chipmunks.”

She doesn’t want to laugh at your predicament, but she can’t help it. Her hand rises to rub your arm reassuringly, “I’ll drive you home.”

“You don’t ha-”

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to. Let me get you home,” the gentleness in her voice makes the icy anger in you melt into a puddle, the hand on your arm was grounding.

“Okay,” your voice just above a whisper in the space between you.

“Okay,” her tone matching yours as she smiles.

Melissa’s car is warm, her presence beside you warmer. With only a couple blocks left before you reach your apartment, you find yourself wishing you knew how to slow, or even stop, time. Would inviting her upstairs seem forward? Is asking her if she wants coffee better? No, stupid, who wants coffee at ten at night? All you need is to be around her.

When her car parks in the lot of your building, neither of you move, not you to get out or her to tell you to. You turn your face towards her, resting your chin on your shoulder, peering through your lashes at her. She matches your position, looking back at you with a little grin.

“Thank you for listening to me,” your voice is quiet and insecure.

Melissa leans a little closer, “thank you for letting me.”

“I’ll see you Monday?” You don’t want to leave, but despite it being Friday, it has also been a school day. You’re tired, and you can see in her slightly droopy eyes that she is too.

“Bright and early,” she answers, eyes flicking to your lips shortly in a way you wish you hadn’t seen. She makes it impossible to want to leave.

Melissa stays in her parking spot until you disappear into the building, not before you glance once more at her and wave shyly. Her head rests against the steering wheel as she struggles to compose herself, before pulling out on the street.

You both fall asleep that night to dreams about the secret corner you’d found yourselves in, books stacked around while your eyes stayed on each other.

—☽—

There’s a certain pep in your step come Monday morning, but a small amount of dread knowing you’ll have to face Ava later. She knew better to keep her distance over the weekend, but though your annoyance with her was fading, it was definitely there. You push into the lounge, immediately gravitating towards the coffeemaker.

You enjoy the hum of the TV, Jim Gardener’s voice coming from the speakers as you focus on Melissa in your periphery. Clicking steps in the hallway stiffen your back, all eyes in the room shifting to you as your best friend, boss, and ditcher enters. The cocky smile on her face falls when you stand and leave the room without a word.

“Seriously? Still mad?” Ava asks with such a genuine tone that Gregory’s head drops into his hands.

Melissa speaks before Ava can even blink, feeling like she had to defend you after seeing how upset you’d been, “so selfish you couldn’t even give a heads up? Some best friend you are, ditching them.” Ava only responds by raising her hands in defeat, giving up on an argument with Melissa before it starts.

“You checking on that one or should I?” Mr. Johnson asks from the doorway where he’s collecting the trash, his eyes set on Melissa. His answer is just the second grade teacher pointing at herself in question, surprised that he would’ve thought of her to check on you. His face screws up, “duh? Who else?”

She listens. When Melissa reaches your classroom, quickly carried by fast and angry steps, she sees you at your whiteboard, writing the agenda and date on it. The unusually harsh strokes of your writing show her exactly what mood she’s walking into. She almost jumps when she knocks on the door and your head whips her way, hard face softening.

“Hey,” you breathe out, going back to writing the afternoon’s schedule.

“Hey. I just wanted to check on you,” she she says as she slides the orange marker down towards you.

“I’m fine, really. I’m mostly just pissed Ava left me like that and thinks it’s hilarious. You’d think I would be used to it by now, but apparently not,” you huff, “just like her mom always says, Ava’s gonna Ava.”

“How long you giving her the silent treatment?”

“Till she actually apologizes and doesn’t just assume it’s all good, it’s the only way. I’m not even that mad about it, if she wanted to leave she could’ve just said,” you shift your weight from foot to foot, “it’s the principle of it.”

Melissa glances over your face, grateful you don’t seem to notice, and she realizes it's less anger, more disappointment. It’s so starkly different from the smile that played on your lips and the gleam in your eyes just the other night. She so badly wants that back, she craves your smile.

It took three days for Ava to finally apologize, and she only does when she comes over to your apartment, no interest in letting the other hear her grovel. She hadn’t meant to make you upset, she was just trying to get you and Melissa alone, and so far, her efforts seemed to be working. She was diligent to not let out that it was a joint plan between her and Barbara, and that Melissa was getting played just as much as you.

—☽—

A snow storm Thursday night almost takes out your power, and the chill seeps through the brick walls, forcing you to bed early in a bundle of blankets. You wake up to your phone ringing at five in the morning, only a half hour before your alarm was to go off. Seeing Ava’s contact worried you immediately.

“What?” you say through a yawn, “are you okay?”

“Aw, you love me,” she jokes through her own large yawn.

“I do. Now, what do you want?”

“It’s a snow day, bitch. The roads aren’t too bad, but apparently the buses are fucked.”

You sigh with contentment, “snow day means I’m going back to bed.”

“Okay, lazy. I’ll see you tomorrow for wine night?”

You can barely answer through another yawn, “yeah, yeah. I’ll be there.”

It’s not until ten that you wake up again, sunlight reflecting off the fresh snow and making your room too bright to stay asleep any longer. The air in the room is too cold for your taste, leaving you to wrap your throw blanket around yourself as you trudge out to your kitchen for the promise of warm coffee. As coffee drips into the pot, the star-printed throw is replaced by your favorite grey sweatshirt, the faded university logo still maintaining a touch of the maroon and silver it once was.

The second cup of coffee tastes of cinnamon and cream, the warmth keeping your hands from stiffening under the cold of your building. No matter how much you turned up the heat, the draft made it obsolete. As you pour a third cup, clinging to the warmth it gave, you feel your phone buzz in your Abbott sweatpants.

From Melissa: How busy are you today?

To Melissa: on a snow day? not at all. why? 

From Melissa: I’ve got a surprise for you.

To Melissa: should i be worried?

From Melissa: Do you trust me?

To Melissa: you know i do

When she doesn’t answer, anticipation starts to take hold. It hits you as you nervously sip your coffee, you’re still in your pajamas and Melissa is coming. You tumble down to your room, switching the sweatpants for an old pair of jeans, the faded sweatshirt for a thick black sweater, fluffy socks into slippers. Part of you grapples if you should make coffee for the both of you, the other part tells you a fourth cup may give you a heart attack upon seeing Melissa, your heart would never be able to take it.

A quiet ping from your phone alerts you that Melissa is down in the lot as she waits for you. You don’t even take a moment to answer, just quickly throwing on your denim jacket before hurrying down the steps to the bottom floor. Peeking your head out, you see the only car with lights on, the familiar black car making you smile. The snow had slowed overnight, wisps still quickly sticking to your hair and clothes.

Melissa doesn’t notice your approach, not until you tap on her frosted window with your knuckles, making her jump. She was lost in her mind, thinking about how bad of an idea it was, startling quickly at your tap, but quickly soothed by your smile and little wave. Melissa steps out of the car, leaning against it to keep you from peeking in her window and seeing the passenger seat.

“You really shouldn’t’ve driven, what if the roads were nasty?” you say with concern, despite the fact that you couldn’t be happier with her presence.

“They weren’t, I got here just fine,” she says, placating the worry.

You can’t even hide the smile that shows itself, “what sort of surprise was worth the black ice?”

“There was no black ice,” she laughs, shifting under your gaze, “but I hope it’s a surprise you’ll like.” There’s an unusual nervousness in her, one that you can’t help but feel and want to soothe.

“If it’s from you, I definitely will.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Try me,” you cock your head to the side, a sly smirk on your face. Melissa ducks her face, concealing her blush. She opens the door, leaning in to grab the bag from the seat. A deep breath leaves her lungs as she composes herself before facing you. The paper bag is stretched out towards you, green eyes begging you to relieve her of this weight.

You try to be careful, not wanting the gentle snow to touch the contents. Peering up at Melissa, she urges you to open it. You reach in and feel something, a cloth covered board you think, until you feel what you think are pages. A book? No, three.

You pull back your hand, the books coming with it. A faded green cover with black serif text reads Frankenstein, the blue reads The Short-Stories of Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley: A Complete Collection, and the final red one, Mathilda. The books you had fawned over a week ago were now in your hands, the very same you said you’d give your car for. No words form, only thick tears in your eyes that you pray don’t fall. They were the exact same books, the copies from the bar, and now they’re in your hands.

You can only look at the redhead, absolutely bewildered. She gives you a weak smile, having a hard time gauging your reaction and you slide the books back into the bag to protect them. There’s no warning, not verbal or even a glint in your eye, before you fling yourself onto her, wrapping your arms around her neck.

“Thank you, oh my fucking God, thank you, thank you, what the fuck?” your words fall out of your mouth, barely able to contain the delight running through your veins.

Melissa doesn’t answer right away, only wrapping her arms around you and basking in the feeling of you there. You smell like coffee and cinnamon, she wishes she could find out if your lips taste the same. Neither of you move, not wanting to be the one who breaks away first.

After a minute, your face lifts from her neck, but you don’t remove yourself from her arms. She meets your gaze, watching you watch her. Melissa is the most beautiful person you’ll ever meet, you’re sure of it. But right here, right now? She’d never been more so, nothing else compared to the snow stuck to her lashes, the pink of her cheeks from the chilled air, the lack of makeup across her skin allowing you to see all her freckles and the lines around her eyes.

“You got me the books,” it's a simple sentence, but there’s a weight to it that Melissa almost can’t handle.

She smiles so softly it makes you want to cry, “you love them, you wanted them.” The look in your eyes changes, and Melissa seems to notice. She finally speaks up, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing is, at least I hope not,” you answer truthfully.

“Why that look on your face then?” Her lips look so soft, you have to tell her.

You swallow your pride, pursing your lips before telling her the thought that had been on your mind since you met her, “I really want to kiss you.”

It appears she feels the same, Melissa immediately leans into you, lips pressing to yours. You knew they’d be soft, and God were they. Her hands plant themselves on your hips while yours cup her neck, pulling her as close as you possibly can. Spinning suddenly, you find yourself pressed against her car, cold metal freezing you through your layers, but warm lips make the cold feel little. For someone so abrasive, Melissa was so soft, holding you like you were the most precious thing to her. Her tongue licked at your bottom lip, asking for entry. And who are you to deny her?

Her tongue traces yours, a groan comes from deep in your chest that only spurs her on further. She presses impossibly closer to you, hands sliding up to hold you at your ribs, pressing into your jacket in an attempt to get closer. Your blunt nails dig into her neck, not enough to hurt, just to feel more of her. All you’ve wanted since you met her was to be this close, and it felt like an unreachable dream until now.

Her lips pull away, only to be chased by yours. You press gentle, chaste kisses to her lips, and it only becomes more difficult as matching dopey grins grow on your faces. Her hand rises to your cheek, caressing the chilled skin that warms under her touch.

She barely hears your words over her rapidly beating heart, “you’re so pretty.”

“Haven’t seen yourself then, huh?” she jokes, pretending your statement didn’t make her feel like a giggly teenager.

“Funny, but I mean it. You’re so pretty,” your hand shifts around her cup her jaw, “I can’t believe you got those books for me. How?”

She smirks to herself, “I just asked nicely.”

“Nicely? Did you bat your lashes and give them that award-winning smile?” The sarcasm that should have been there sounds more like adoration, the lazy smile on your lips making them look even more kissable than they’d been before.

“Exactly, they just handed them right over,” she feels like a pile of mush with you looking at her like this.

The hand on her jaw pulls her in closer, “they’d be stupid not to.” There’s no chance to reply, just your lips pressing to hers again. It feels as easy as breathing with you, like she was supposed to be doing this the whole time. When you pull away, it’s just barely, a silent request in the way you stroke her cheek.

Reluctantly, she pulls away from you to take her keys out of the ignition and grabs her purse from the floor of the car. An arm wraps around hers as you lead her towards the door to your building, the other tightly holds the books against your chest. It was too soon to say it, but you knew that right here, right now, you were utterly in love with Melissa Schemmenti. The woman who probably threatened the employees at the Penman’s Alcove for the books when they said she couldn’t buy them, the one who listened for two hours as you spoke about authors and books she’d never cared about before.

She cared now. She cared because you did.

Melissa knew the moment you saw the books, that she would do whatever it takes to see that wonder on your face again. She thinks to herself that endeavor would be a good way to spend the rest of her life.

title is from a quote from mary shelley’s frankenstein: “you are still, as you ever were, beyond beautiful expression.”

i chose the st. dominic for mel’s pendant bc hes typically worn by educators

feedback appreciated as always <3

[thegettingbyp2]

"let's make a fucking baby" for hotch 😍

Let's Make a Fucking Baby

A/N: Okay so this one got away from me so it's almost 2k words but I loved writing it so so much!!

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You were sitting at the desk in Aaron’s home office, your laptop opened in front of you as your fingers flew over the keys. You were currently in the process of writing your second novel and you were getting impatient. No matter what you wrote, at the end of every day when you’d look over what you’d written, you weren’t happy; your ideas weren’t translating onto paper well at all. You hadn’t realised the time, until you heard the sound of your husband clearing his throat from the doorway, drawing your attention to him.

‘You’re back!’ you exclaimed, jumping out of your seat and running over to him, wrapping your arms around him. He’d been away on a case for the past two weeks and to say that you missed him would be a massive understatement. ‘I missed you,’ you said, your voice muffled in his suit jacket.

‘I missed you too, baby,’ he replied warmly, holding you tightly to him, neither of you wanting to let the other go. However, you figured that you should probably get back to writing. You reluctantly pulled away from his embrace, intertwining your fingers with his and practically dragging him over to the desk, sitting back down as he sat lightly on the arm of his chair, one of his arms wrapping around your shoulders as he leant down to press a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

‘How was the case?’ you asked as your eyes returned to your laptop screen and you began typing again.

‘And it made me think of…are you listening to me?’ Aaron cut himself off, amusement colouring his voice as he realised that you were only making non-committal sounds, a clear indication that you weren’t quite paying attention to what he was saying.

‘What? Of course I’m listening,’ you insisted, quickly drawing your eyes away from your screen to look at him. ‘You were saying that you caught the guy in,’ you were cut off my Aaron’s laugh and his lips landing on yours gently.

‘That’s what I said about five minutes ago, my love. How long have you been sitting here?’ he asked, gesturing to your set up at his desk.

‘Not too long,’ you replied quickly.

‘(Y/N),’ his tone turned to concern as he really took in how tired you looked. ‘When was the last time you slept?’

‘I’ve had a couple of hours here and there.’

‘Baby, you can’t just sit in front of your laptop all day, you need to take care of yourself,’ he scolded, cupping your jaw with his hand and running his thumb over your cheek, smiling softly when you nuzzled into his touch.

‘I was kind of hoping that you would take care of me?’ you asked, fluttering your eyes up at your husband, watching as his eyes darkened.

‘How about,’ he began, pulling you out of the seat until you were standing in-between his legs, his arms wrapped around your waist. ‘You let me finish what I was saying, then I can take care of you,’ he murmured, lowering his head to your neck, pressing a soft but firm kiss to your pulse, your fingers digging into his shoulders, making a smirk appear on his lips.

‘Okay,’ you whispered breathily.

Raising his head, he looked into your eyes before speaking. ‘Let’s have a baby.’

‘Excuse me?’ you spluttered, that phrase being the last thing you’d expected to come from his mouth. Sure, the two of you had spoken about starting a family now that you were married, but you weren’t expecting him to want it so quickly.

‘I want to have a baby with you,’ he continued, ‘there was a couple at the station earlier that were pregnant and it made me think. I want that. Most importantly, I want that with you. We can go nursery shopping, buy anything you want for it, I’ll go out a stupid times at night just because you crave something really weird. What do you say?’ You looked into the eyes of your husband, tears forming in yours as you listened to what he said and realised that that was exactly what you wanted.

You nodded quickly, pulling him down to press his lips to yours. ‘Let’s make a baby,’ you said as a tear slipped down your cheek.

‘Let’s make a fucking baby,’ he murmured against your lips, his hands sliding up your legs until he reached the waistband of the joggers that you were wearing, hooking his fingers in them and pulling them down your legs, groaning when he realised that you weren’t wearing any underwear. ‘Am I going to get the same surprise up here?’ he asked, tugging on his t-shirt that you were wearing.

‘I guess you’ll have to find out,’ you said, smirking at him, giving him his answer. In a flash, the t-shirt was discarded on the floor and you were standing completely naked in front of your fully-clothed husband. ‘Well, I don’t think this is very fair,’ you said, pouting slightly as your fingers make quick work of his tie and the buttons on his shirt, leaving it hanging open, revealing his bare chest to you.

Before you could slide the shirt off of his shoulders, Aaron reached down to grip the backs of your legs and lifting you to sit on the edge of the desk before sinking to his knees in front of you. ‘Did I tell you how much I missed you?’ he mumbled, looking up at you from between your legs; a sight that had your legs attempting to close in order to get some kind of friction.

‘You may have mentioned it,’ you whimpered breathlessly as you felt his lips start a trail up your inner thigh, skipping over where you needed him most and repeating his actions up your other thigh. ‘Aaron,’ you whined, trying to shift your body closer to him.

He grinned against your thigh, chuckling softly at your quiet yelp as he gently bit your skin before moving his head to finally run his tongue up your pussy, your head tipping back instantly at the contact. His lips wrapped around your clit and began to suckle softly as two of his fingers gently pushed into you. Your fingers tangled themselves in his hair in an attempt you ground yourself as you felt yourself quickly rushing towards the edge.

‘You’re close already, baby, did you miss me that much?’

‘Yes,’ you spoke quickly, ‘I missed you so bad, Aaron!’

‘Go on, baby,’ he said with a crook of his fingers inside you, ‘cum for me.’ The crook of his fingers paired with his words sent you flying over the edge as you cried out, Aaron’s tongue helping you ride your climax out until he pulled away to watch your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. ‘You okay?’ he asked, running his thumb along your thigh.

You managed a breathless nod as he slipped his shirt off of his body and stepped between your legs once again. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you pulled him down to crash his lips against yours, whimpering against his lips when you could taste yourself on his tongue. ‘I need you,’ you whined, trailing your fingers down his chest to swiftly undo his belt.

‘You have me, my love, always,’ Aaron crooned in your ear. After dating for six years and approaching your first wedding anniversary, you would have thought you’d have gotten used to the things he’d say but you were slowly accepting the fact that you never would. Aaron’s fingers wrapped around your ankles, untangling your legs from around his waist just long enough to give him time to kick his trousers and underwear to the side of the room before letting you wrap around him once again as he pushed into you.

The moment you felt his hips press against yours, you felt yourself melt against his body, trusting his arms to come around and keep you safe as he slowly started to thrust in and out of you. ‘Still want that baby?’ he asked, a shiver running down your spine at his words.

‘Please,’ you replied, looking at him without a hint of doubt in your eyes and he felt his heart clench in his chest at the way you were looking at him; he never thought that he’d have the privilege of being loved by someone like you, yet here you were.

‘You might want to hold on tight then,’ he said and he felt your arms wrap around his neck, your fingers toying with the hair at the nape of his neck. As soon as he made sure you were comfortable, he started to move his hips at a faster, rougher pace, the air being pushed from your lungs with every thrust. You buried your head in his neck and gently bit down on his shoulder, pulling a hiss from his lips and his hips hitting against yours even harder.

‘You’ll look so beautiful pregnant,’ Aaron whispered into your ear, a stark contrast to the way his hips were hitting yours. ‘So beautiful walking around with a bump and people are going to know that you’re mine, that you let me give you a baby.’

A mix between a whine and a moan escaped your lips at his words and you felt your walls clench around his cock, causing his pace to stutter at the feeling of you fitting around him.

‘Want your baby, Aaron,’ you managed to say between thrusts as his hand made its way down your body to flick at your clit, sending your hurtling into your second orgasm, the way your body tensed making him still against you as his own orgasm hit. He held his hips tightly against yours as you felt him coat your walls. As you both began to come down, your head moved from its position on his shoulder to rest at an awkward angle on his chest, your eyes fluttering closed.

‘Come on, baby,’ you heard Aaron speak up in the now quiet room, ‘let’s go get you cleaned up and get to bed.’ The moment you felt him make to pull out of you, your legs tightened around his waist again.

‘Not yet,’ you mumbled, not having realised how tired you’d been while he was gone. ‘Can we just stay like this for a bit?’

Aaron’s answering chuckle caused a warm glow to spread through your body as he lifted your head to kiss you. ‘Can I at least take us to the bedroom so we’re comfier?’

You nodded sleepily at him and he let you rest your head back on his shoulder before he lifted you off of the desk, cradling your body against his, still inside you as he made his way through the house to your bedroom.

‘Do you think it worked?’

‘What was that, my love?’ he asked as he laid you on the bed, reluctantly pulling out so he could clean you up and join you.

‘The baby. Do you think it worked?’

Aaron couldn’t keep the grin off of his face at the thought of you wanting a baby with him as much as he wanted one with you. Flicking the light switch off, he crawled under the covers until he had you cradled in his arms again. ‘I hope so,’ he murmured in your ear as you drifted off to sleep. ‘And if not, we can always try again.’

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Overtime 4

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss, Mr. Hansen, runs you ragged but you find solace in an unexpected friend.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, Jake Jensen.

Author’s Note: This one is dedicated to my dearest @thezombieprostitute

Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

That day, you take your lunch. It’s been a long one. Again. 

It seems that it only gets worse lately. Mr. Hansen is either yelling about some client or his ex-wife or the way the cream cheese on his bagel is spread. For all of them, you have to stand and take the brunt of his frustration. 

The sunlight is warm despite a thin sheet of clouds. It’s going to rain, probably just as you get out of work. Typical. 

You nibble on your granola bar and stare at the flowers. It’s nice not to be behind a screen. You crinkle the wrapper and take another small bite. You don’t usually get much of a break so you don’t really pack a full lunch. Your stomach grumbles in regret of that fact. 

You put your elbows on the picnic table and hunch forward. A breeze rustles through petals and leaves and stirs the scent of pollen. You hear the door to the courtyard but don’t look up. No one talks to you. The one time you tried to sit with Caroline and she fled as quickly as you said hi. 

“Hey,” a shadow stops beside the table, “you mind if I sit?” 

You look up at Jensen and shrug, “oh, sure.” 

You put your head back down, suddenly self-conscious, and you break off a morsel of granola with your fingers before chewing on it. He sits and you feel him watching you. You peek at him as you swallow. 

“How’s it going?” He asks. 

You wrap up what’s left of the bar and put it in your sweater pocket. “It’s okay. Nothing special. How about you?” 

“Uh, yeah, it’s good,” he unwraps his sandwich as he speaks, his hands seemingly too busy for his own good. The smell of the turkey and swiss draws a growl from your stomach. “Been running around trying to get that new inventory software to work. No one around here knows how to read I swear. And someone up in marketing downloaded a bug so lots of damage control, haha.” His eyes round and he presses a hand to the side of his neck. “I’m yapping again.” 

“It’s fine,” you say. “I don’t mind.” 

“You don’t?” He asks. 

“No.” At least he’s nice. Not like Mr. Hansen. 

“Right, uh... Did I interrupt? Or you just finishing up?” He looks at your pocket pointedly. 

“Oh, no, I... the granola’s too sugary. I’ll just have a tea when I get back to my desk,” you explain and look away, following a ladybug with your eyes. 

“You don’t got anything else?” He asks. 

“Not hungry,” you lie. 

“Hm, alright,” he doesn’t sound convinced but doesn’t insist. “Oh, I meant to ask, I saw your wallpaper, not that I’m like snooping or anything, just happened to notice. Ummmm, well, that sounds off, doesn’t it?” He chuckles nervously, “what I mean it, I saw that you like er, The Sims?” 

You nod and look at the table. Mr. Hansen never said anything about the desktop background. You supposed he didn’t know what the green diamonds meant. He had enough to say about your dancing kitten. 

“I play sometimes,” you say. 

“Yeah, me too. Just 4 or any old ones?” 

“Erm, I like the medieval one.” 

“Really? I thought everyone hated that one,” he says. “I got tired of losing at Elden Ring so I’ve been trying to zen out in Oasis Springs. My wife died though. And the second one. I’ve stopped marrying actually, I might be cursed.” 

It sounds absurd to talk about the game out loud. You never had anyone to discuss it with so you never realised. You glance up again then check your watch. 

“Sorry,” you frown, “I gotta get back.” 

“Oh,” his disappointment lines his forehead, “yeah, sure, sorry if I ate up your time.” 

“No, you didn’t,” you stand and sidle out from behind the bench, coming close to him as you step out. The round table is a bit awkward. “See ya.” 

“See ya.” 

You leave him and the sunlight and go back into the fluorescent-saturated hallways. You don’t rush back even though you should. You just don’t want to be there anymore. Most nights, you can’t fall asleep because you dread waking up. And in the morning, you can hardly drag yourself out of bed. 

You get to your desk and wiggle the mouse to wake up your monitor. You open the browser and stare at the little ad in the side panel of the home page. You hover your finger over the button then click down on it. 

The new tab opens and put your chin in your hand as you scroll down. The word Sale is pasted all over and the categories are lined up neatly. You click through and peruse the dresses under the ‘Office’ heading. 

You don’t have any dresses and you don’t wear any of your skirts. They’re all thrifted or straight out of the bargain bin. You never put much thought into clothing, you just went for adequate, much like the rest of your life.  

Still, the echo of Hansen’s words plays over and over. ‘...dress like a granny...’ It’s not the first time he’s commented on your attire and it never really bothered you very much. He insults everyone. It’s just that you’re so tired of being unnoticed, or noticed for all the wrong reasons. 

You look at a pretty cherry red wrap dress and check the measurements chart. Your phone vibes and you pick it up. It’s just another marketing email. Annoying. You darken the screen and see yourself in it. Ugh. 

You add the dress to your cart. It’s just for you. Maybe it won’t look as good on you as the model but you're tired of the woolly old cardigans and stiff corduroys. Heck, no one will even know the difference. They don’t invite you to the special lunches or to even enjoy a free donut. A new dress won’t change a thing. 

[worksby-d]

A Great Mentor: Only If You Like It

A One Shot

Summary: You sit down with Andy to settle on a first and middle name for your daughter. 

Pairing: Andy Barber x fem!Reader

Warnings: None 🥰

Word count: ~800

a/n: Even though this is part of a series, it can def be read alone. I MISS THIS SERIES SO MUCH.

All you want to do is say hi and let him know you’re home, but he doesn’t give you the chance, pouting when you walk into his home office. 

“No,” he groans–almost whines as if you ruined something–gently closing his laptop as he drags the word out. “You’re home already?”

You open your mouth to retort, but you just scoff, “Yeah.” And you raise a skeptical eyebrow at him. “Don’t sound so happy about it.” 

“No, that’s not–” He shakes his head, laughing a little. He holds his arm out and waves you in to come closer to him and you roll your eyes as you push off the door frame to let him draw you in. “I’m just finishing up, sweetheart. But I wanted to have dinner ready before you got home for once.”

“Well, that’s okay,” you chuckle. “Don’t worry about it.”

He takes your hand once you get within reach of him, and you know where he wants you, but you just lean against his desk instead. 

It’s his turn to give you a questioning look. He’s used to you sitting on his lap. 

“C’mere…”

“I’m getting too heavy for that,” you mumble, resisting his gentle tug. 

“No you’re not,” he laughs quietly, giving one more reassuring try. “I’m strong, I promise.”

You give in, letting him pull you down to sit with him. With one arm around your back and his other hand on your growing belly, he gets you to relax. 

“See, you’re fine,” he winks. 

You ignore his told you so, wanting to get back to the cooking thing.

“I’d rather cook anyway.” You never let an opportunity to tease him slip away. “Remember that time I got sick after eating your parmesan chicken?”

“Hey now,” he chuckles. “That was before we were even together.”

“I know, I had to lie to my parents and say I was hungover the next morning when I was lying on their bathroom floor,” you laugh, giving him a playful shove. “Because telling them I was wasted was safer than telling them I was sneaking around with you the night before!”

“That was so long ago.” He shakes his head thinking back. “I’m sorry my cooking is subpar and maybe known for getting you sick once… or twice. Okay?”

“Okay,” you nod, giving him a quick consolation kiss. 

“How was your day?”

“Good,” you sigh, leaning against him a little more. “Really long.”

“Mm,” he hums, just holding you a moment, enjoying the quiet after all day. “You look beautiful, by the way.”

“Thanks,” you smile. He reminds you every chance he gets, especially during the past few months. “I–We,” you correct yourself, placing your hand on top of his over your stomach. “–Want to talk about something.”

“Yeah?”

“About her name…” Your voice trails off as you wait for his reaction. 

“Honey–” He chimes in immediately. “I’ve been thinking about it. I like Evren. I think it’s a beautiful name.”

You try to interrupt him. You don’t need to settle on her first name yet. But he doesn’t let you stop him.

“I can tell you really love it. And it’s growing on me… I think.”

You laugh a little at his rambling, running your fingers through his hair. 

“You really like it?”

“Yeah, angel.”

“That was easy,” you tease, sitting up proudly as if you just won something. “But that’s not what I wanted to talk about. I wanted to talk about middle names…”

He gives you a look, clearly confused. He doesn’t see the need for that yet without having agreed on a first name thus far. 

“I was just going to say that whatever we choose for her first name has to go with her middle name,” you explain. “And I have one that I want to run by you.”

“Oh, this’ll be good,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes jokingly. 

“Stop,” you laugh, swatting at his arm before getting more serious. “How do you feel about Marianne?”

“Mari–” He softly begins to repeat it, processing what you said. “Like my mom? Marianne?”

“Yeah,” you nod slowly. 

“Really?”

“Yeah, really,” you let out a small laugh. “It’s a beautiful name. But only if you like it.” 

“I love it,” he quickly assures you. “Evren Marianne…”

It’s your turn to repeat him, mirroring his smile as you listen to how the names sound together out loud.

“I love you,” he whispers, resting his head on your shoulder. “You’re sure?”

“I’m so sure,” you promise. He lifts his head to look at you when you gently nudge him. “I love when you talk about your mom. I want Evren to know her.”

He nods, leaning to give you a soft kiss. “Me too.”

Tag list: @patzammit @denisemarieangelina @thummbelina @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc @astheskycries @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @la-cey @turtoix @katiew1973 @harrysthiccthighss @tvckerlance @rocketrhap3000 @mrspeacem1nusone @murdcox @geminievans1 @doozywoozy @americasass91 @dwights-new-plague @wwwmarissa92 @redhairedfeistynerd @whxre4cevans @aubreeskailynn @white-wolf1940 @melchills-j @xoxabs88xox @before-we-get-started @chrissquares @christowhore @ice-dtae @mariestark @justile @rogersbarber @dilfbarber @livstilinski @payperhearts @vintagestarlight @gitasor @chaeycunty @miss-ariella @bemysugarbean @t-stark35 @seitmai @reginaphalange2403 @raelorns21 @mrsgweasley @pandaxnienke @brandycranby

[age-of-play-i-say]

Daddy's Plush Replacement, pt. 3

(sorry this took so long y'all I had to study for work and could not spare the brain space, anyway this is part 3 of a 4 part story for @justpottytime, enjoy!)

(this one is heavy on the padding and the wettings, so if that's not your thing, respectfully keep scrolling)

If I try to be careful, I'm not gonna make it

I make a run for it and make a calculated leap for the potty and only let out a few dribbles as I settle down.

By the time butt’s fully on the seat, I’m already pottying full-force. I let out a gasp, punctuated by lifting one foot in the air while all my muscles freeze taut to focus on making potty. After about 20 seconds, my muscles start to finally relax. I start to feel the relief I craved while riding Teddie just now. I sit up on the potty and realize just how tingly everything feels.

I revel in the feeling, flicking my nipples and waggling my hips. I giggle, feeling silly at my urgent run over earlier.

Suddenly my butt feels entirely too warm and I panic and sit bolt upright.

Filled the potty already? But how? Am barely halfway empty! An I can’t stop making potty now!

Panicking, I cast around and see the little basket of puffy absorbent options Daddy left out right next to the potty. I lean forward and grab a thick, sturdy option and yank it open, standing only to shove the padding between my legs before collapsing to my knees, whining and yanking my regular-sized teddie to sit under the diaper, pressing the rapidly darkening padding up to my baby parts.

I drop my hands to the carpet and rock forward, letting the waves of pee shivers roll through me, guiding me slowly to grind back and forth, allowing potties to escape freely while pressing my stiff lil tdick to the crinkly diaper below.

Daddy is gonna be so proud of me! I realize, the relief of my half-controlled accident returning me to a comfortable, soft headspace. Made peepee in a diapey, hadda accident without him. I giggle sheepishly, and press my hips further down. The warmth of my pottie accident makes me moan out loud.

I close my eyes again and let my hips carry me, grinding and humping away at the warmth below. I wish Daddy could see me now, free and unashamed, I picture his proud smile, his hand gently and quickly pulling on my tdick while I tell him the details.

I need it so bad. I jam my hand between my legs, gripping my stiff baby tdick between my thumb and two fingers and stroking in short, even motions.

Ohhh, I want Daddy so bad. I need him, I need his praise, his smell, his voice.

“Daddy–” I yell as my tdick draws up and I come with one last gush into the soggy padding below.

After some deep breaths,  I look around shakily. No mess, just an almost overflowing bee potty and a diaper ready to go in the Diaper Genie under Daddy’s desk. I giggle, and come up on one knee. 

I did it! Kept Teddie dry, stayed in headspace! what should I–oh! 

Daddy’s not here to empty the potty (which has never filled before) until tomorrow morning. Clearly, I’ll need it again before then! 

The basket of padding options looms large in my peripheral vision. I’ve never let Daddy see me in any padding yet, but I want the freedom of diapers desperately. Lately, he and I have been going over ways to start with this addition to our dynamic, but nothing’s stuck yet.

But right now, alone with his love all around me, I think I can manage some padding.

I shrug alone like it’s no big deal, roll up the used diaper and toss it in the Genie. I scan through the diaper option and find that for all Daddy’s talk of the basket being “backup” there are enough options to last about a week. Shaking my head with a suppressed grin at Daddy's eagerness, I shuffle through the options.

I alight on a thick pullup for now, bladder sore from my unintentional hold. It has lilac lace patterns and a scalloped edge. I almost hold my breath while I tape it on, scared of hating it, scared of loving it.

I smooth my hands over the tapes and my hands automatically keeping feeling around, pressing the crinkly stuff to my sticky lil tdick and moaning.

Love it. Love it, love my daddy. I fight back a surge of anxiety and choose to stay in headspace.

“And Daddy loves me!” I remind myself aloud. The padding feels so right, soft and dry, and holding me close, promising to protect me.

I wrap my arms around my middle and do a little happy dance, enjoying the crinkles and tingles.

Still feelin’ all tingly everywhere I think. 

After a final check of the unusability of the bee potty, I close it and turn to Teddie, hogging the daybed. I know I want to play more, but I don’t know how yet. I certainly don’t want to take off my fresh padding to do it. I move towards the bedside tabe, going to grab my drink and take a peek at the other playtime toy options in the basket over there.

What's that?

A bit of motion in the corner of my eye catches my attention. I see myself mirrored in the frame of my still-recording, front-facing phone camera. As I step out of frame reflexively, I realize the closed bee potty and padding basket are in the dead center of the frame. I stop the recording and wait, heart pounding. Sure enough, scrolling through the frames of the video, I see myself bounce on Teddie, lots of motion and then a hard turn to the potty frames. I close out of the frame-viewer in my photos when I see my eyes cross. After a quick cringe break, I reopen the vid and find the moments of wetting padding quickly and my little happy dance. I freeze on my face after smoothing down the tapes.

I look so happy. And calm.

I take a screenshot. My heart pounds as I open the photo and the ‘share’ suggestions pop up, Daddy at the top of the list. I hit send, blush creeping down my neck to join the tingles all over my body. My phone opens his most recent messages, indicating he’s a restaurant with colleagues, having a lowkey and fun apps and drinks before heading back to his hotel room for the night.

Dots pop up almost immediately, Daddy’s seen it. It seems like forever a few minutes of typing before I get a bunch of emojis, an oh my god?? and a very sweet I’m so proud of you, Peanut!

Then a photo comes through, a bit grainy and dark. It’s Daddy’s lap, low light from a restaurant bulb just barely illuminating the unmistakable boner bulge in his jeans.

Fuck, baby, that’s so hot.

ye, Daddy? Wan see the vid?

Oh my god, baby, yes please. Then a few seconds later: Heading to the bathroom to watch because PHEW!

I send him the vid and tidy up my space for the evening, trying to let my padding and surroundings make me feel safe and cared for. 

Daddy loves when you’re his baby. He asked for the video himself. He won’t think you’re gross.

I queue up another movie and gather my next round of snacks and drinks to the bedside table.

It’ll be bedtime after this, I think. That’s what Daddy would want.

Feeling soft and obedient, I turn to the final task of arranging Teddie to sit up so I can sit on his lap, all cozy and padded, and then my phone chirps.

A video thumbnail appears, Daddy’s button-up in the center of the frame, with an arm in front of him pops up and I grab my earbuds, baby parts tingling with anticipation.

I hear him shuffling, skin against skin, and the camera focuses slowly, illuminating Daddy mostly from the waist up in a dim single-stall bathroom. He doesn’t look directly at the camera, but his breathing is deep and strained. I can hear, but not quite see, his belt jingling and being unbuckled. He backs away from the phone to get his big Daddy dick out, and immediately wraps it up with both hands, stroking it firmly and thrusting into his hands, humping faster and faster.

Suddenly he slows, shivers, and speeds up, violently thrusting until his cummies spill in the sink. He collapses forward onto his elbows on the sink, murmuring into the camera’s microphone Oh that was so hot Baby, oh my god, you did up your padding all on your own. Daddy is going to treat you so right when he gets home, little one, ohhhh my god, oh god. Okay. I gotta clean up and pretend my Baby didn’t just send me my literal wet dream scenario. Jesus fuckkk. The video ends after he tucks himself back into his pants and goes to wash his hands.

I’m burning for him, tingling ramping all over my body, but especially where my pull-up covers everything I’d need to get to to find release. I whine, too baby-ish to think of a solution. My phone chirps again.

Remember what I said about Teddie’s tail?

A surprise?

Yes, a surprise just in case you were brave enough not to break when the potty filled up. Something you can feel through any padding.

I approach Teddie, flipping him over as fast as his mass would allow to see his tail. What I see is the handle of a rechargeable magic wand, with the head of the wand making up the bulk of Teddie’s plushie tail. I settle Teddie so he’s nice and stable and stand behind him on the daybed, lifting my hips to settle my crinkly parts on his tail and flip on the wand.

Immediate sensation shoots through my pullup, vibrating my entire lower half, focusing on the aching clit and dripping parts. My tingles spread out under my skin and I remove my t-shirt when they climb my neck. I’m aching and dripping, getting closer and closer to a release that feels . . . Daddy-ordained. 

I turn up the wand and close my eyes. 

Daddy wants this, Daddy wants this, don’t hold back, let it all out!

Stunningly fast, the pulses from my baby parts radiate out from there, rolling through every muscle of my body in a warm wave of bliss. I turn the wand off and relax my muscles with my eyes still closed. I know I squirted, so I’m gonna have to remove this padding for bedtime anyway. I lean forward and throw out my camera’s kickstand again and shuffle around to press record.

“Gotta get out all the squirties before I pad up for sleepies.” I say softly into the camera, “following your instructions, Daddy.”

I get back behind Teddy, this time driving my hips into the re-engaged wand on his tail, grinding his prone form hard enough to hear the crinkling of my pull up.

I look right at the camera, not feeling shy in this space, feeling loose and uninhibited. I turn up the wand and hump faster, carefree and sloppy as my diapey crinkles on Teddie’s tail.

“Gonna let it out, Daddy, gotta let it all out for you, oh oh oH-” I say before my eyes start roll back.

Shaking, legs locked while standing, I crest over the top of a very intense orgasm, purposefully tipping forward to let the wand stimulate my tdick and peehole all at once. A loud hiss bursts into the pullup and I keep humping out all my potties until the hissing finally ends, turning off the wand, and reaching for the camera. Between the two orgasms and the wettings, I’m all tuckered out. I’m panting and smiling for the camera, happy I finally feel brave enough to let Daddy into this part of my sexual life.

“Time for night-night padding!” I say cheerily, before hitting the record button to end the video.

I send it, and hop down to dispose of my now-soaked pull up.

I was right, I needed one last release before bedtime.

I run over to the Diaper Genie, untape and toss it in. I feel a strange little loss, and hum unhappily. I grab the thickest diaper in the basket and tape it on. My brain goes quiet, my headspace is secure.

Am good baby.

I toddle around, grabbing some savory snacks and another big sippy drink, and flip Teddie over to sit him up and settle in his arms, wearing only socks and a diaper to watch Emperor’s New Groove. My phone chirps a few times, but babies don’t hafta answer phones. I let my lids get heavier and heavier, empty sippy slipping from my hand as I crash for the night, spread eagle between Teddie’s plushie legs. I snuffle and flip to lay on top of Teddie, pushing him back with my eyes half–closed to straddle him and fall asleep instantly. Teddie’s hard cock pressed against the outside of my thick padding and the last thing I remember before falling asleep is clenching and producing a small gush instantly absorbed by my padding.

Ni ni, Teddie, ni ni Daddy.

[fett-djarin]

Stress Relief

Here it is! This is entirely self indulgent and filthy! Im a wh*re for the croissant guards

Also I headcanon Fox looking like how amikoroyoaiart draws him. her art is so good!

Commander Fox x f!reader

Crossposted on ao3

Rating: 18+

Length: 3.9k

Warnings/Tags: Oral (m receiving), that good sloppy toppy, office sex, cursing, light grinding, making out

NSFW BELOW THE CUT

Bringing the Guard their morning caf had become a tradition, of sorts. You knew the caf in the mess wasn’t good--in fact, it was barely even palatable. When you first started as a new secretary, it had been your timid way of offering friendship to the imposing troopers who worked so hard to keep the planet safe. They warmed to you quickly. Thire was the first to remove his helmet in front of you, plonking it down on your desk and taking a long pull of caf barely a second after you handed it to him. At your stunned look, he had just raised a brow and said, “Long patrol last night,” with a shrug.

As the others had become more comfortable with you, you had seen most of them without their buckets at some point--except for Fox. He always took his caf with a polite “Thank you, ma’am,” and retreated to his office. You knew it was against regulation for them to remove their helmets while they were on duty. But even when you dropped off the caf in his office, he was at his desk with his helmet on.

“He keeps it on so you can’t tell if he’s actually asleep,” Thorn told you one day. “I suspect he even does it while we’re standing guard sometimes.” You laughed aloud at that. The serious Commander Fox, asleep standing up. He was right though, you never would be able to tell.

The first time Fox removed his helmet in front of you, you hadn’t expected the gray dusting his temples, but honestly you weren’t surprised. The poor man was stressed beyond belief and worked half to death. You were more surprised that he finally did it in the first place. Fox sighed, running a hand through his unruly curls, before taking the caf and giving you a tired smile. He thanked you by name that time. You tried to ignore the butterflies in your stomach.

From then on, he had been without it more when you went into his office. You even caught him sleeping once--head resting on his folded arms, bucket set next to him--and had done your best to deliver the caf without waking him. Maker knew he needed the sleep more than he needed hot caf--if Thorn hadn’t told you he snuck naps with the helmet on, you would think he ran off caf and stubborn will alone.

One morning, after you had passed out caf to the others--and a little cup of whipped cream for Grizzer--Fox hadn’t made an appearance, so you made your way to his office to drop it off. You knocked lightly on the door. “Come in,” his gruff voice called, and the door slid aside. You smiled at him, noting the way his shoulders visibly relaxed at seeing it was just you. You set the cup down on his desk. You had just turned when a touch on your wrist stopped you.

Fox was looking up at you, helmet cocked to the side. “You know you don’t have to bring us caf every time you work, right? The boys better not be nagging you for it.”

“I know,” you said. “I enjoy doing it. And it’s the least I could do.”

“The least you could do?”

“You all work so hard. You deserve more, even if it’s just better caf.”

He squeezed your wrist gently. “You don’t owe us anything. It is our duty to the Republic--”

“I know, Fox,” you tried to hide your grin, and failed. “But you’re also my friends.”

That seemed to surprise him, hand falling from your wrist as he sat back in his chair and regarded you curiously. You made your way back to the door, pausing in the entryway and looking back over your shoulder.

“Have a good morning, Commander.”

“...You as well, ma’am.”

The door slid shut behind you. Fox slipped his helmet off, setting it on his desk and staring hard at the door you had disappeared through. His eyes flicked to the paper cup of steaming caf, brows furrowed.

It was the first time you had called him by his name.

Friends?

----

After that day, Fox seemed to be trying to talk to you more. Instead of taking his caf and running off, he would stay, either to chat or just hang around for a minute with you and the other Guards. Stone nudged Thire, who nudged Thorn, and they all looked over to where Fox leaned his hip casually against your desk and you were laughing at something he said.

“Did someone replace Fox while we weren’t looking?” Thire questioned under his breath.

“I’ve never seen him so...cheery,” Stone said.

You smiled up at Fox, worrying your bottom lip with your teeth. They watched as your fingers grazed the back of his hand where it rested on your desk. “Think something’s goin’ on between those two?” Thorn asked, gesturing vaguely over towards you and Fox with his cup.

“Absolutely.” Thire didn’t hesitate to answer.

The three quickly snapped to attention as Fox excused himself, heading their direction. You gave them a small wave. Thorn was about to wave back before Thire thumped him in the arm.

“Don’t you have duties to attend to?” Fox grumbled as he passed them, heading to his office. “Get to it.” You hid your laugh behind your hand seeing the three Commanders scramble to disperse.

Evening rolled around, and you cocked your head side to side, stretching your neck and shoulders. You had been going over forms all day, datapad after datapad, organizing reports and requests for the Chancellor and the Senate. Your shift was almost over, and you were getting ready to go home for the night.

Various members of the Guard had come and gone, leaving and returning from patrols. Senators and representatives had filtered through; less and less as the evening progressed. You were just getting ready to leave when Fox stalked through, back from his rounds, tense and practically vibrating with irritation. He didn't even spare you a glance as he disappeared into his office. If the doors weren't automatic, he likely would have slammed it shut.

You knew he had a thankless job--a job he had no say in having, either. Usually it was something to do with the Chancellor that got him so worked up. Half the time you thought Fox would strangle the man himself if he could. Maybe you should take Fox out to one of the cafes nearby, just for a second to breathe and not carry the weight of the Guard on his shoulders. Was that against regulation? It might be better to invite him back to your apartment. Or did that imply too much?

You pushed yourself up from your chair, mind made up. He could always say no. You wouldn’t be offended.

You paused outside the door to his office, listening carefully. You couldn’t hear anything from the other side. So, you knocked.

“What.” Fox’s biting tone surprised you, but you didn’t take it personally.

“Commander? I...It’s me,” you said hesitantly, and then wanted to smack yourself. Confidence. “Is everything alright?”

No response. You took the silence as a sign that he wasn’t interested in talking. That was fine. You didn’t want to impose if he needed time to himself. The door slid open just as you had stepped back, intending to leave. Fox sighed, jerking his head to direct you inside.

The door shut behind you, and Fox sat heavily in his chair at the desk. Another deep sigh, and his shoulders slumped. He pulled his helmet off, setting it aside, and you caught a glimpse of the dark circles under his eyes before he put his head in his hands.

“Commander Fox?” You took a tentative step forward, so you were close enough to reach out and touch his shoulder.

He looked up at you. There was still tension lining his shoulders, hands flexing into fists and then relaxing. Stress. He opened his mouth to say something, frowned, and then closed it again. He cleared his throat. “Did you need something?” You could tell he was making an effort to soften his voice, likely as to not snap at you again.

“I just wanted to check in, sir,” you said, coming around the desk to stand next to him, leaning your weight against it. “It looked like something was bothering you.”

He waved his hand in the air vaguely, brows pinched. “You don’t have to call me ‘sir,’ you’re not one of my men.” He looked like he was debating saying more, so you waited patiently, quietly, hoping he recognized that you were here to listen if he so needed.

“As you likely know, there’s a gala coming up. Senators, politicians, ambassadors, Jedi….” Fox huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s going to be a security nightmare. And the Chancellor,” he spat, venom in his voice, “has been on my case about patrols and the Guard. Always demanding more. We’re spread too thin, and not getting the support we need--” he cut himself off. He was getting himself worked up again.

You placed your hand over his where it was clenched into a fist on the desk. It relaxed under your touch. Fox heaved another sigh mixed with a groan. “I’m behind on paperwork too,” he glared at the stack of datapads sitting to the side. “I don’t know where I’m supposed to find the time to do everything.”

“Hmm,” you reached over and picked up one of the datapads, skimming through it, hopping up so you were now sitting on the desk. It was just a patrol report that needed Fox’s signature before being filed. “What’s your CC number?”

“CC-1010,” he answered instantly, then regarded you with suspicion. “Why?”

You signed the bottom of the form: CC-1010, “Fox,” and submitted it.

“What are you doing?” his voice seemed to have kicked up an octave.

“Helping you with your work. I deal with paperwork and holoforms all the time,” you said, picking up another datapad and scanning through the information. “Most of the time it’s to make sure there’s a document trail. Most of these probably don’t need an in-depth review, they’re not important. They just go in the archives and are never looked at again.”

“I--you--that’s illegal,” he sputtered. But he seemed more surprised than serious.

You raised a brow at him, signing his designation and name once again before submitting the next form. “Are you going to arrest me?”

“No,” he didn’t hesitate. Interesting. Then he had a thought. “Your handwriting doesn’t even look like mine.”

“Doesn’t it?” you showed him where you had signed. It was almost identical to his scrawling script. His eyes flicked between the form and your face, incredulity on his features.

“How…?”

You shrugged. “It’s something I’ve always been good at. Saved me a lot of trouble as a kid when I needed my parents to sign for something at school. Especially when it was a disciplinary note.” Fox barked a disbelieving laugh at that and you couldn’t help your sly smile. “Even if I didn’t mimic your signature, no one would notice. Or care. You could mark the lines with an X and it would go through; it’s only the acknowledgement they care about. You can even draw a loth-cat face and have that be in the archive forever as a signature.”

“Don’t you dare,” he threatened with a chuckle. “Some of these aren’t just patrol reports though. I actually have to read through the more important ones.”

You handed him a holopad as you picked up your third. “How’s this: we work on these together; if I find one that has important information or requires more than a signature, I’ll give it to you.”

He regarded you for a long moment, debating your offer. Some of the weight had lifted from his shoulders; he looked less tense, less overwhelmed, even less exhausted. Then he slowly nodded. “All right,” he said. “But you have to let me buy you coffee for once.”

“You don’t have to do that--”

“We’re friends. Right?”

That stopped you short. You did consider him and the other guards friends, but to hear him say that he also considered you one...it was nice. It made a pleasant warmth flutter in your stomach, and you couldn’t help your shy smile at his words. “Right,” you agreed. The soft upturn of his lips made your breath hitch. He looked so young when he smiled.

The two of you worked in companionable silence, steadily making your way through the stack of datapads. You had been correct--most of them were unimportant; standard reports and forms that required a signature purely for protocol. Every once in a while you handed one over to Fox for him to read through. Slowly, your free hands had crept together, and Fox hoped to the Maker that you didn’t notice how warm his cheeks had gotten. 

Your thumb rubbed soothing circles over the back of his hand, and he didn’t notice he was staring at the way your fingers moved rather than reading through the form you handed him until you cleared your throat. “Fox?” you asked quietly. His gaze landed on your lips. He wanted you to keep saying his name, he wanted to hear it again and again--

You brushed a stray curl back from his forehead. A tug on your arm had you stumbling forward off-balance, and you would have fallen if strong arms had not wrapped around you and pulled you into an armored chest. Heat rushed to your face at the new position you found yourself in: sat in Fox’s lap, his hand still entwined with yours.

Then he kissed you.

It was gentle, soft. His lips pressed to yours chastely, far more gently than you expected him to be, and you felt the datapad fall from your hand. The sharp clatter of it hitting the ground made Fox pull back, but then you grasped the back of his neck, twining your fingers in his curls, and pulled him back to your mouth. He tossed his own back on the desk with a groan as your lips met again.

You licked the seam of his lips, and he opened for you. Fox was content to let you lead. His hand gripped your hip, and he sighed into your kisses, melting from your affection. You don’t know how long the two of you stayed like that--tasting, breathing each other in, sharing languid kisses full of pent-up desire.

His wild curls were soft in your fingers, and he all but purred when you lightly scratched your nails along his scalp. The hard plastoid of his thigh plates was uncomfortable underneath you, and you shifted your hips slightly in an effort to find a more comfortable spot. The breath hissed out through Fox's teeth, and your face flushed with warmth realizing you had brushed against his codpiece. His fingers tightened on your hip and thigh, pulling you towards him, encouraging your hips to roll against him again.

It was an awkward angle, with you sitting with your legs thrown over his lap, but from the hitch in Fox’s breathing it was doing something for him. You hummed into his mouth before pushing yourself up, holding onto his broad shoulders for support as you swung one leg over so you were now straddling him, chest to chest.

“Better?” he rumbled, nipping your bottom lip before soothing the sting with his tongue. You squeaked as his palms cupped and squeezed your ass, tugging you closer. Both of you basked in each other's eager little breaths and soft noises, hungry and wanting for more.

"Mhmm." The new position allowed you to feel the firmness of Fox's codpiece against your center when you pressed your hips into his. Fox really appreciated the new position, with your tits against his chest and free access to grope your ass. He almost whined into your mouth at the steady slow grind you started against him.

You wanted to hear that noise again. An idea struck you. You wanted to taste him. One more deep kiss, then you shimmied back off his lap. Fox made a noise of protest and tried to pull you back to him, but you just grinned and shooed his hands away. The floor was cold on your knees as you settled between his spread legs.

“What are you--oh,” he cut off with a harsh breath as your deft fingers unclasped his codpiece and tossed it away. Immediately, your palm cupped the warm bulge at the front of his blacks. He shifted in his seat, and you noticed his cheeks and ears had flushed a shade darker. How cute.

“Commander,” you purred, slowly stroking him through the fabric.

“Y-yes, cyare?” His hands flexed at the arms of his chair. He was struggling to not reach out and pull you back on his lap. Normally so composed, Fox now looked wrecked with his lips slightly parted, kiss-swollen, and hair mussed.

“Will you let me suck your cock?”

Fox spluttered and fumbled at your bluntness. You bit your bottom lip, looking up at him from beneath your lashes, still slowly stroking him over his blacks. You could see him fighting with himself. Maker, he wanted it. He wanted to see your pretty lips wrapped around his length. But he also didn’t want you to feel like you had to--he also desperately wanted to pleasure you.

“Please?” you leaned forward and mouthed at his clothed erection, letting your spit soak the fabric. Your eyes locked with his, looking up at him with your best faux-innocent look, like you had no idea what you were doing to him. But Maker, you were hungry. You wanted him.

“Fuck,” the word sounded as if it had been punched out of him. His pupils were blown wide, black swallowing the rich brown of his irises. “Fuck, yes--”

You wasted no time in tugging the band of his blacks down. A shiver worked its way through him; seeing you on your knees in front of him was a dream--a dirty little fantasy he would never admit to. Many nights alone in his quarters or in the showers he had roughly fisted his cock to the thought of you in situations that were most definitely unprofessional, biting the back of his hand to keep his noises at bay. And now here you were, the sweet secretary, making his dreams become reality.

The sliver of warm skin revealed to you made you instantly want more, and you couldn’t stop from pressing a light kiss to his hip. Then you eased his leaking cock from his blacks. Fox hissed in a breath through his teeth as your hand loosely wrapped around him, pumping his length slowly. The precum that dribbled from the tip slicked your grip. He was thick and firm in your hand, like velvet-wrapped durasteel.

The first stroke of your tongue against his cock made him curse. You licked slowly, working your way from tip to base and back, tracing the pulsing vein that ran along the underside. Taking the head of his cock in your mouth, you tasted the salty tang of the precum that leaked from him. When you hummed around him, his hand shot to your hair, fingers winding through the strands. He didn’t push you down or pull you away; instead, he merely just...held on.

Fox’s breathing kicked up watching you worship his cock with your tongue and hands. You enjoyed watching him try to hold himself together, slowly making him fall apart piece by piece. Your head bobbed up and down his length, each time taking more of him. Your hand continued to pump and work the rest you hadn’t fit in your mouth. He breathed out a string of words in a language you didn’t understand, but from the tone it sounded like he was praising you.

All his little noises were making the heat coil in your core. Wetness pooled between your legs, and you clenched your thighs together for the slightest bit of relief. You closed your eyes to concentrate, focusing on the weight of his cock on your tongue, the heat of his body. You slowly took more of him in your mouth until you felt his tip bump the back of your throat. Breathe through your nose. Fighting off your gag reflex, you swallowed around him.

“Shit! Shit, mesh’la--” Fox cried out above you, feeling your throat constrict around his length. He tugged gently on your hair, and you pulled off him with a gasp. “Fuck, if you keep doing that I’m gonna cum in your mouth.” It was meant to be a warning, but he sounded too breathless for it to carry any weight.

“But Commander,” you looked up at him, enveloping the tip of his cock in the heat of your mouth and gently sucking. His thighs twitched under your hands, cock throbbing, and you pulled off with an obscene pop. “That’s the best part.”

You were messy, letting saliva drip from your mouth and down his cock. You sucked, licked, and kissed every inch of his length until it was sopping. When you ducked down to take his balls in your mouth, his breath hitched, hand tightening in your hair, and a low moan came from him.

“Gedet’ye, mesh’la, gedet’ye--” Fox choked out.

“Hm?” You pulled back, hand wrapped around his cock and continued to pump him tightly. You twisted your wrist when your hand brushed over his head. He was panting lightly, and looked deliciously wrecked.

“Gedet’ye,” he said again, “please.”

You smiled at him, and he felt his heart jump. You looked filthy, lipstick--Coruscant guard red?--smeared, lips and chin wet with spit. “I want you to cum in my mouth, Fox.” Then you brought your mouth back to his cock and sucked, laving your tongue over the sensitive head as one hand stroked the base. The other came up to cradle his balls, and he was done for.

Fox cursed up a storm in both Basic and Mando’a, nearly doubling over as his orgasm was wrenched out of him by your clever mouth. You kept your gaze connected with his, eyes hazy and half-lidded. Warm spurts of his release filled your mouth and you eagerly swallowed it down, milking his cock until he had nothing left. Subtly, you rubbed your thighs together, so turned on it nearly hurt. Seeing Fox fall apart for you stoked the fire of arousal in your core.

He had an arm thrown over his eyes as he slumped in his chair, chest heaving for breath. “Stars above, you’re going to kill me,” he said. You giggled, hands running soothing motions over his thigh plates, even though he couldn’t feel it through the plastoid. He looked boneless and sated, which was exactly your intention--well, part of your intention.

Then he was guiding you back up, cupping your cheek and kissing you hard. It was desperate, deep, filled with so much emotion that you couldn’t decipher it, you only knew that you felt the same. You moaned into his mouth. He broke the kiss, and you noticed the glint in his eye and his sly grin before he kissed you again, standing and guiding you back to sit on his desk.

“Now it’s my turn.”

[ghost-ghost-baby]

Narcissist (alpha!readerxOmega!Bakugo soulmate au)

An: this is heavily inspired by the song narcissist by younger hunger definitely recommend listening to it!

An: BIG TY TO MY BETA FOR EDITING THIS ABSOLUTE MONSTER OF A FIC WE STAN!

Word count: 3.2k (ur welcome)

Summary: Bakugo being a little shit basically- Mina and Denki r sick of him- reader runs out of scent blockers-

Warnings: omegaverse, swearing, Bakugo being a dick, reader just thinks he’s hot, gets a bit spicy but nothing graphic, non traditional dynamics (subby alphas) drug use (weed)

You were in a familiar room, one you’d come to love since you’d started dreaming of it, and you sat on the bed and waited… any moment now.

“Oi, are you here, shithead?” The voice of your omega was dreamier than it was in real life; his harsh words unable to punctuate the tranquility of your dream.

“I always am, Katsuki!” You chirped, grinning as he slowly faded into existence. The black tank top and jeans he wears make him look far too good, and your brain short-circuited for a few seconds.

“I told you not to fucking call me that!” He growled, but you only laughed. Reaching out to grab his hands before he could stop you, you pull him down so you could kiss him. Any anger he had quickly melted away, and Katsuki had pulled one hand away to rest on your shoulder and pushed back. You got the point, you pulled away for air and leaned back on your elbows as you did. Katsuki followed and straddled you without a moment of hesitation. His mouth latched onto your neck and you let out a hum. With one hand gravitating to tangle in his hair, he gave you another push that had you lying flat on your back.

“Hey-”

“Shut the fuck up, don’t ruin this.” Katsuki bit down on your throat and you squeaked, although he licked over the mark seconds later to soothe it, and only pulled away to kiss you when you tried to talk again. You melted, let your hands wander down to his thighs, and had your thumbs rubbing absent-minded circles. Then, Katsuki was unbuttoning the shirt you had on, hands quickly trailing lower to-

“Y/N! Did you hear what Mr. Aizawa said?” Mina’s voice brought you back from the dream you had the night before, and you blinked at her as you blanked.

“No way I'm working with their dumbass!” Katsuki snarled as Kiri forced him into a seat at your table, and you turned your head to Sero with a questioning look. He usually knew what was going on in class.

“We have a group project for a presentation, Mr. Aizawa picked the groups-”

“Oh hell yeah, all my best bro’s working together? Sounds like fun to me!” Denki leaned over to hug you and Mina, and the pieces started to click together. You were working on an art project, with your mate, who hate-

“How could anything be fun with Y/n around, they fucking ruin everything.” Katsuki grumbled to himself, refusing to meet your eyes despite sitting opposite you. Kiri mouthed an apology to you from his seat next to Katsuki. Honestly, you had no idea why he’d decided to act like… such a brat really, but it was just an act, however annoying it was. The two of you were soulmates, he’d come around, eventually.

“Oh hush, Bakugo, Y/n’s a riot and we all know it! You’re the one who goes to sleep at like, 8pm” Denki came to your aid. The electric blonde then pressed a kiss to your cheek that had Katsuki gritting his teeth.

“So, what's the project, guys?” You flipped through your book to a fresh page, resting your chin on your hand as you waited for the others to speak.

“We have to show the versatility of styles and composition under a singular theme!” Kiri was the one that answered you, and the group immediately started throwing around ideas.

“I think we could do horror, a lot of horror artists have different composition styles and still manage to convey the-”

“Tch, that’s the best you could come up with? I’m not surprised, an alpha as shitty as you can’t be capable of any decent ideas.” Katsuki sneered, but you only smiled at him as the group agreed with your idea. Your omega merely grumbled and hunched over in his seat as the group discussed the different artists you could use as examples.

You’d stayed late to double-check something with a professor, and you were still flipping through your notebook as you walked through the unusually empty halls. You weren’t paying attention to where you were going, and before you knew it you ran into someone, the same someone who shoved you against a wall seconds later, but your fear subsided when you realised it was just Katsuki.

“Watch where you’re fucking going, dipshit.” Katsuki wasn’t even sure why he’d pushed you up against the wall, but being this close to you, touching you… it was..nice…

“Tch, god your scent is so weak, you smell like a fucking beta, how’d I get stuck with such a runt, huh? Some sick kind of joke.” Katsuki’s tone didn't match what he was saying. The way he leaned forward to rub his cheek over your scent gland definitely said otherwise, but you stayed quiet, he always found some excuse to scent you, but he’d usually get embarrassed and storm off if you dared to say anything.

“You’re pathetic, you know? Being this submissive for an omega, are you sure you’re not a beta? It’d make more sense.” You bit your lip when Bakugo pressed a kiss to your neck, only hesitating a moment before he started sucking a mark onto your skin. His words bounced right off of you because all you could focus on was how hot he was and how he’d subconsciously put his thigh between your legs and thank fuck you were on scent blockers, or you’d never hear the end of it.

“Really, you aren’t even going to try and defend yourself? You’re even weaker than I thought.” A growl next to your ear made you shiver, and Katsuki pushed away with a snarl when he was satisfied. He cursed at you again and warned you ‘not to tell anyone or he’d kick your ass’ (he wouldn’t) before he walked away, leaving you to walk home with your head completely in the clouds.

“What took you so fucking long, huh idiot?” Katsuki was on you the second you appeared in the dream, pulling you down into a rather ferocious kiss before you could say anything. He bit your lip when you didn’t open your mouth fast enough, swallowing any protests you would have made, and continued to kiss you until you were dizzy. “I’ve been waiting two hours…” He pulled away to kiss under your jaw, and if you didn’t know him so well you’d miss the insecure tone in his voice.

“Sorry, Midoriya wanted-” You stopped when Katsuki growled, biting down so hard you were surprised he didn't draw blood.

“Why the fuck are you saying his name here, huh? Are you tryna piss me off?” He pulled away to sneer at you. You opened your mouth to explain, but the words died in your throat when he unzipped your hoodie, and any coherent thought you had went out the window when he started to kiss your neck.

Everything was ready. The lounge room was set up, complete with snacks, drinks, and stationery for you and your friends to work on the project. They were meant to be here any second, and you couldn’t help but hover near the door to your apartment. You weren’t used to having people over and it still put you on edge having others in your space. But that thought left your head when a knock sounded on your door. You quickly opened it and were almost knocked over by Denki and Mina engulfing you in a hug.

“Thanks so much for hosting bro!”

“Awww you laid out all these snacks and stuff too! An omega’s gonna be really lucky to have you one day Y/n!” They pushed inside. Denki closed the door as Mina oohed and aahed over the setup, their praise had a slight blush rising to your face as you sheepishly rubbed your neck. Sero was next, quickly hugging you before he joined Denki and Mina, then Katsuki and Kirishima last. The blonde pushed past you without saying hello, but Kiri pulled you into a hug so tight you couldn’t breathe for a second, and was complimenting the setup as you took a seat. You tried to sit next to Mina, but Denki let out a whine and the pair was pulling you down between them before you had time to protest. Denki immediately leaned on you once you were settled. Katsuki couldn’t focus on the project, how could he, when his two dipshit friends were all over his mate. And you weren’t even doing anything to stop them! In fact, you were leaning into their hugs and giggling at every stupid joke they made! It had Katsuki fuming. Kirishima was the only one close enough to smell the angry shift in his scent, and he glanced between his friend and you, slowly putting the pieces together. You really had no idea what was happening, but Denki’s head was on your shoulder, and Mina’s arm around your waist as she asked questions about the project, giggling and pressing a kiss to your cheek whenever you got confused, which happened more than you’d like to admit. The blonde gritted his teeth when Mina’s hand went to your thigh, you were his! Nobody else should ever be touching you like that! You should know better! So when you excused yourself to grab something from your room, of course he made up some excuse about needing the bathroom so he could follow you.

The door to your room closed with a click, and you quickly spun around, expecting to see Mina or Denki, anyone except Katsuki to be honest.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He was seeing red at this point. He cornered you and made you stumble back until your waist hit your desk.

“Uh- getting more pens-?” You held out the pack of pens with a confused look on your face that only made Katsuki angrier. How were you so stupid? And so fucking cute when you were- he cut off that thought, he needed to focus on yelling at you. Not the way your brows furrowed and how you nervously bite your lip as you waited for him to say something. Wait- were you blushing? Fuck, maybe he should-

“Katsuki? Are you oka-“

“Shut the fuck up, dipshit.” He snarled. Then, catching you both off guard, he leaned forward and kissed you. Your eyes fluttered closed immediately. He’d only kissed you in your dreams, which was nothing compared to this, and you hesitantly placed your hands on his waist. His hands went to your hair to pull you closer, tugging it until you got the message and parted your lips for him. Katsuki let out a hum of approval as he deepened the kiss, why hadn’t he done this sooner? You couldn’t focus on anything other than how much Katsuki tasted like caramel, he didn’t taste like caramel in the dreams. You couldn’t help but whine when he pulled back. Another insistent tug on your hair had you tilting your head back, and Katsuki didn’t waste any time kissing over your neck. You were so lost in the feeling you almost missed the words he growled against your skin.

“You should know better, you’re mine. Other people shouldn’t be fucking touching you like that.”

“Do you think they’re like…. Finally-” Mina made a hand gesture that had Denki cackling, even Kiri cracked a smile.

“I hope so, it’s getting hard to watch all the back and forth.” Sero sighed, dropped his pen, and stretched.

“Yeah, have you seen how mad Bakubro gets though? It’s pretty fun to push his buttons like this!” Denki grinned as he leaned his head on Mina’s shoulder, and she wrapped her arm around his waist.

“I don’t know… Bakugo’s uh… stubborn, to put it nicely.”

“Your scent is weird… are you wearing a different perfume?” Mina leaned her head on your shoulder, arms wrapped around your waist as you glanced at Katsuki. After whatever the fuck had happened in your room, he’d gone back to acting like he hated you, so, you’d kept letting Denki and Mina do whatever they wanted. He had his eyes fixated on the work, and you turned back to Mina with a smile.

“Oh, sorry about that! I forgot to refill my scent blockers and my doctor’s not available until next week.”

“Don’t be sorry, bro! It’s nice, like really, really nice!” Denki came up behind you, throwing a quick glance at Katsuki before he leaned forward, crooning and rubbing his cheek over your scent gland, Mina doing the same a moment later. The pen Katsuki was holding snapped, his angry scent pumping out in waves as he glared daggers into the book in front of him, all too aware of you laughing.

You were hyper-aware of how strong your scent was, this was the longest you’d gone without scent blockers since you’d presented, and you’d lit a scented candle to try and cover it up. It hadn’t really worked, maybe you should light some incense-

“Y/n! Sorry we’re early!” Mina’s hand on your shoulder broke you from your thoughts, and you shook your head before you smiled. Denki cut you off before you could apologize about your scent.

“Damn Y/n! It smells like you baked cookies- oh my god did you bake-”

“Don’t be stupid, babe, it’s just their scent.” Mina shoved him inside, shaking her head as she followed and closed the door behind her.

“Oh! Of course!” Denki nodded, and he and Mina linked arms with you. They walked you over to the couch and sat you all down with grins on their faces.

“Uh… guys-?” You didn’t trust that look, it never leads to anything good.

“Well, since the project is like, 99.5% done-” Mina started, hand coming up to play with your hair.

“We thought we deserved a reward!” Denki interrupted, reaching into his bag and producing a blunt. You felt your own grin forming.

“Oh my god- is that from-”

“Shinso! You know he sells the best stuff on campus, I decided to splurge for my bros!” Denki looked incredibly pleased with himself, and you couldn’t help but tackle the blonde in a hug.

“Oh my god Denki, you’re the best!”

The three of you were blazed by the time the others got there. Sero happily bounced over to share the blunt, while Katsuki and Kiri just sighed and sat down with you. Katsuki’s eyes instantly zoned in on where you were lying on Mina and Denki on the couch. He was oddly silent as he tried to keep his cool, the nagging thoughts that had always been there slowly got stronger. He’d always had to be strong, people perceived him as weak just because of his dynamic, so he’d rejected the thought of being with an alpha, hoping for a beta or omega. Or you. You never made a big deal out of your dynamic, and always treated him as an equal. Then the dreams started. He loved you, he really did! But his whole reputation would go down the drain if he was claimed by an alpha, especially one with such a weak scent and mild presence. So…. he pretended to hate you in public because the two of you had your dreams, where nobody could judge him! Even if they did pale in comparison to real life. But lately… he couldn’t stop wondering… were you getting tired of waiting? With the way you were acting… the thought made his stomach turn and his canines come out. Especially since you had run out of blockers. Your scent getting stronger and stronger as the days went by. You were his alpha! You shouldn’t be scenting other people! Especially omegas! And you certainly shouldn’t be laying on them while you were ignoring him! You hadn’t even said hello to him! You were too busy getting high with those assholes like you didn't belong to him! You were his, it wasn’t fair!

Mina was the last out of the apartment. She kissed your cheek and winked at you as the door closed. The exhaustion set in as you leaned against the door.

“What the fuck was that?” Katsuki growled and made you startled when you saw him by the table. You only shrugged as you went to pack up the stuff on the couch.

“Denki got us some weed because the project was done-”

“Not that, dickhead! They were all over you!” He marched over to you, trying to ignore how good you smelled up close.

“And? We’re not-” You responded, and Katsuki was shoving you before he realized, ignoring the way you yelped as you fell on the couch. You sprawled on your back and glaring up at him.

“Katsuki! What the fuck!” Katsuki didn’t reply, eyes traveling over your vulnerable form. Flush rose to his face as he realized how provocative the position was, causing warmth to pool in his tummy. If kissing was so much better in reality, what would it be like to be inside you? Feel you clench around him and pull his hair when he hit your sweet spot? Would your thighs shake the same in real life when he just kept going? The omega didn’t even realize his scent had changed, he just licked his lips and stared at you with hooded eyes, fuck he wanted-

“Are you okay? You zoned out.” Fuck, when had you gotten up? You were so close now, your scent overwhelming. He never wanted you to go on blockers again.

“Fuck, Katsuki! Katsuki! Are you in heat?” It finally dawned on you. Katsuki’s scent had taken on a sweeter tone it didn’t usually have, and with the way he kept zoning out, it was obvious. Plus thoughts of him on top of you that wouldn’t leave your brain alone. Your question snapped him out of his daze, and the omega snarled at you, stepping back and stumbling when a jolt of pain went through him.

“Fuck off, like you could trigger-” His voice cut off as another wave of pain went through him, causing you to reached out to steady him without thinking. The omega was going to let out a growl but it quickly changed to a whine as it escaped his mouth. You pulled your hand back like it had burned, although your mate’s temperature was so high it wasn’t out of the question. You took two steps back and froze when a feral snarl ripped through the room, dark red eyes pinning you in your place.

“He-hey Katsuki…” Your voice stopped his growling, and it took every ounce of self-control you had to stay coherent as he advanced, your rut already trying to cloud your judgment. Your eyes darted around the room, maybe you could make it to the bathroom? Then Katsuki could ride out his heat and you could talk about it? yeah. Katsuki was only a foot away from you now, the grin he had on was somehow more unsettling than the snarl, and you shook your head to get some of your resolve back. Okay, three, two, one-

You made it maybe ten centimeters before Katuski caught you, and pushed you back down on the couch. He wasted no time sitting on your lap and tilting your face up to look into his eyes.

“You’re not getting away from me, Alpha. I know you want this. I should have done this months ago.” Sincerity shone through your omega’s lidded eyes, and you felt your small shred of resolve shrink away even more. Your hands flew to his chest to push him away.

“Ka-Katsuki it’s just- just your heat, you don’t mean-“

“Don’t tell me what I do and don’t mean, alpha.” Katsuki was back to growling at you. His hands grabbed your wrists, pinned them down, and used his knees to keep them in place. He went back to cupping your face, red eyes boring into yours as he thought of what to say and a growl leaving him whenever you dared to look away. You were so, so obnoxiously pretty, it made it even harder to focus. Katsuki kept getting distracted by little details, like how your eyes shone and you kept biting your lip.

“You’re so fuckin stupid, ya know that? Of course, I fuckin want you, you’re my alpha- I don’t… I don’t care what other people think anymore, I just want you.” Katsuki’s tone was softer than you expected, and you could only gape at him as a blush quickly rose to your face. You knew he didn’t hate you, but hearing him say that lifted a weight off your shoulders you’d been carrying for who knows how long. The moment passed, all the softness went away as Katsuki leaned down to kiss you, and this time you kissed him back without any reservations.

[differentkettleoffishalltogether]

Shut Me Up

A/N: Here’s another smutty one-shot. I felt like something a little cliche so here it is. This was so fun to write! I’m still finding my footing in this fandom as a writer but I think I wanna start taking requests, the next fic I have coming out will be a request and I’m having fun with it so shoot me a message if there’s something you wanna see. I’ve just put together my Masterlist so you can check out my other fics there :)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Spencer and Y/N don’t exactly get on well. Will they be able to work out some of their frustration when they’re forced to share a room for the night?

Category: Pure smut baby

Warnings/Includes: smut, graphic descriptions of sex, dirty talk, oral (female receiving), penetrative sex, name calling, light choking, hair pulling, scratching, please let me know if there’s anything I’ve missed!

Word count: 3850 words

The hotel is somehow worse than usual. It’s got so few rooms that they just narrowly grab enough for the whole team. But few enough that they have to bunk. Y/N didn't love sharing a room but it was better than having nowhere to sleep at all.

Prentiss tosses her a key, “That’s you and Reid” she says it so nonchalant that Y/N almost doesn’t notice it. Once in clicks in her head though she races down the hall.

“Hey, hey wait!” She calls out, a little too desperate, “Emily you can’t put me with Reid. We’ll kill each other.”

She laughs at that, it was on open secret amongst the team that Y/N and Spencer had something of a rivalry going. Bitter sworn enemies apparently. No one really bought it though. People who really truly hated each other would be a lot better at avoiding one another. But Y/N and Spencer could never seem to keep apart for very long.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to put your differences aside for a night.” she waves Y/N off as she heads into her own room, leaving her stranded in the hallway. Contemplating if the reception area might let her crash on the couch, she could even spend the night in one of the SUVs, the seats reclined far enough.

But that was stupid, why should she be the one who had to be uncomfortable, why not Spencer.

When she arrived at the door of her own room Spencer was slumped up against it, he stood up straight once he saw her coming.

“Took you long enough” he spat, reaching to take the key from her but she pulled it back before he had the chance.

“I was on the hunt for alternative sleeping arrangements” she huffs, unlocking the door.

“To no avail I presume?” he jokes but he’s just met with an eye roll.

“I’m taking the bed by the window” she stakes her claim before they even get through the door. Once they’re inside he lets out a chuckle.

“You’re welcome to the side of the bed by the window?” he jokes.

This was infinitely worse than she thought it was going to be. Where there were usually two generally uncomfortable twin beds in these standard small-town motels, instead there was a queen sized bed, staring at them as they stood at the foot of it.

“I get the bed” she says like she’s calling shotgun.

“Bullshit you get the bed, there’s nowhere else to sleep!” he complains.

She takes a second to scan the room, no sofa, no arm chair, the floor is a scratchy carpet. There’s no real option here. “You can sleep on the desk?” she suggests, and she’s not serious about it, but she wouldn’t say no if he agreed.

“Are you kidding me?” he almost shouts.

“Soft mattresses are bad for your back! Maybe it’ll sort out your posture?” she adds.

“There’s nothing wrong with my posture” he groans, massaging his temple.

“Okay sure, you tell yourself that”

They don’t say anything more about it as they unpack. Showering and changing for bed in silence. When Y/N comes out from he bathroom, Spencer is sitting up on one side of the bed, reading through case files by the light of the bedside lamp.

“Are you serious?” she whines.

“Look, we both need rest, just shut up and get over yourself” he says it without looking up from the file in his hand, his finger running over the lines at speed.

She doesn’t respond, she just climbs in on the other side, keeping herself as close to the edge of the mattress as possible to keep the distance in between them.

She lies like that for about 45 minutes but sleep’s just not coming.

“Are you ever gonna turn off that fucking light, I thought we ‘needed rest’” she mocks, turning over to look at him, still combing through the files, mumbling to himself every once in a while.

“We’ll both be useless tomorrow if we don’t get any sleep” she tries to convince him with a slightly more sincere tone.

This case wasn’t easy, the unsub had been abducting victims he’d met in online BDSM chatrooms. Bodies had been turning up murdered in ways that the victims had previously expressed were turn-ons. Suffocated, whipped, tied up in peculiar ways. There wasn’t much information to go on now, they just had to wait for the next body to turn up but that didn’t keep Spencer from pouring over everything a hundred times.

When he wasn’t being purposefully irritating Y/N honestly admired his work ethic. Just not when it was interfering with her much needed sleep.

“The bare minimum of sleep most humans need to live is just 4 hours in a 24 hour period” he blurts out, still not looking up.

“Well I’m not most humans, so knock it off”

He finally concedes, chucking his files onto the bedside table and shutting off the lamp. It’s now eerily quiet, and all she can hear is the steady breathing coming from the other side of the bed.

Enough time passes that she really should be asleep but it’s still not happening. So she’s already beyond irritated when she feels a slight shove against her shoulder.

“Hey, you still awake?” he sounds mischievous, she knows that tone of his voice and she doesn't like it.

“God! I am now! What do you want?” she mumbles into her pillow.

“I’ve just got a question” he says defensively.

She hums and rolls over to face him, he’s wide awake, “Well? Out with it” she encourages, the sooner this is over with the better.

His mouth twists into a smirk as he takes a minute to study her face, “What turns you on?” he asks it sincere, and she has no idea what to do with that.

Rolling her eyes on instinct she groans, “Ugh, are you serious? I was so close to getting to sleep, goodnight asshole.” she turns back around to end the conversation but he can’t leave it there.

“I’m serious actually, just all the talk about it earlier, I wanna know”

She doesn’t move as she speaks, remaining with her back to him in a bid not to engage, “You couldn’t handle that information.” She deadpans.

“Try me” he antagonizes, and that’s enough to set her off. He just didn’t know when to quit.

This could be a fun new way to tease him, is her first thought. Turn him on, leave him wanting, yet another game to add to their repertoire of spite.

“Fine I’ll give.” she turns back to him, staring intently this time, “Here’s one, I really get off on having my hair pulled” she scoots closer so she can lean in and whisper the next part, “like when I’m getting fucked from behind, or I’ve got someone’s cock down my throat. I love having my hair pulled, just the short sharp pain of it.” she sort of moans the last little bit right by his ear before settling back on her own pillow.

“That good enough?” she asks, and she can practically see his breath catch in his chest.

He takes a steady gulp, “Yeah, that was, informative” he breathes.

“And what about you?” she poses, he’s not getting out of this one so easy. He looks shocked, like he didn’t see this coming a mile off.

“Me? Uh—” he stutters, “My back, I get really— I get turned on when someone digs their nails into my back, like scratching and marking” something about seeing him flustered like this is almost endearing.

“I guess we’re both suckers for pain” she winks as she says it, making a move to turn around again in a bid to let the conversation die but he doesn’t give her the chance.

“Tell me another” he pleads, and she’s not sure what his expression means but she might just draw this out, see how far she can can tease this.

“Hmm, nosy aren't we?” she smirks, he doesn't respond, just waits for an answer. She thinks for a moment, “Have you ever choked anyone Dr. Reid?”

His breath hitches, and he shakes his head. She likes this new Spencer, the one that doesn’t seem to have some quip for her every two seconds.

“Well I think you might like it, you’ve got nice strong hands, long fingers too. I feel like they might make it the whole way round my neck if you tried?” her voice is soft like velvet as she speaks. He lets out a short pant, and she can see his eyes flicker down to her exposed throat before quickly coming back to her eyes.

“Does the idea of that turn you on Doc?” she teases.

“I— um—” he’s at a loss for words yet again.

“That’s not an answer now is it?” She taunts him, and moves to turn around once again. Feeling accomplished in her goal, finally about to get some sleep. But she’s barely closed her eyes when she can feel him move. He’s so close behind her that she can feel the heat radiating from him. His hand slowly reaches around and grasps her throat gently, she moves herself further into his grip on instinct and he runs with it. Using the leverage to pull himself right up behind her, and she can feel it. He’s hard, and she can feel him pushing himself right up against her ass.

“Is this a satisfactory answer?” he moves in close and whispers against her ear. She’s changed her mind, maybe this is her favorite Spencer.

“Mmhmm” she hums in response, and his fingers tighten around her neck. She pushes her ass further back, moving it up and down slightly to create some friction and she can feel him twitching through the thin layer of her nightdress. He starts to move with her, grinding against her, his other hand resting on her hip, fingertips digging in so that he can pull her closer.

She tries to moan when she feels his nails dig into her but it gets stifled in her throat.

“You sound pathetic” he whispers, “I’ve barely even touched you and you’re whining like a little slut” her hips buck involuntarily at that. “You like it when I call you names?” he teases.

The hand on her hip starts to pull at her nightdress, inching it up higher and higher until his fingers are on her bare skin. He digs his nails in just slightly and drags them around her thigh, letting them settle right at the hem of her panties.

“I bet if I put my fingers in here I’d find you soaking wet for me already?” When she doesn’t answer he tightens the hand around her throat so that it’s almost cutting off the air supply, then loosens immediately. “Answer me” he demands.

“Yes! Yes!” she moans, anything to get his hands to move where she wanted them.

“That’s what I thought” he laughs and lets go of her completely. Her dress hiked up, breathing ragged. She snaps back around to look at him and he’s already curled up on his side of the bed as though nothing’s happened. Left in shock she sits upright, crossing her arms across her chest.

“What the fuck was that?” she has to stop herself from outright shouting at him.

He turns back to look at her, taking in her sullen expression, “Disappointed are we?” he teases with a smirk. And that look makes her want to kill him.

“You’re such a dick” she huffs, and he sits upright next to her.

“You say that like I didn’t just beat you at your own game?” he tries to fight back.

“You didn’t beat me!” she protests

“Oh really, and how’s that?”

“I could feel you, you were rock hard before you even touched me” she spits it out, because if she turned him on first then somehow this didn’t feel as embarrassing.

“Yeah! Because you were teasing me!” he looks frustrated now,

“Exactly! Because I was teasing you, and you fucking liked it” he just rolls his eyes at that, pretending like it’s somehow not true.

“Shut the fuck up” he groans, running his hands through his hair and letting his head fall back against the headboard.

She quirks an eyebrow and looks straight into his sleepy eyes, “Make me.”

In less than a second his hands are on her again, grabbing and pulling her into his lap. One hand is firmly on her back, holding her tight against his chest, the other is tangled in her hair already. Grabbing fistfuls as their lips work against each other.

It’s heated, and ferocious, full of pent up aggression, or tension, or both.

As his tongue works against hers, she lets her own hands wander over him, finally coming to rest at the back of his head, tangling in his curls. When she grinds down into his lap she can feel his cock still hard beneath her, straining against the fabric of his boxers. She thought it was impossible but it felt harder than it had been earlier.

He breaks apart the kiss and they both take in wrecked breaths, chests heaving. He pulls at the hem of her nightdress, pushing it further up her thighs, grabbing a rough handful of her ass as his hands find the exposed skin there.

“We gotta get this off” he whispers, and she nods, pulling it off over her head so that she’s exposed now. Perched in his lap in nothing but her panties. “Fuck” he moans at the sight. His hands come straight up to grab her tits, rough and exited for a moment before easing up, kneading them, getting used to the weight of them in his hands. He brings his mouth down, leaning in so that he can place sloppy open mouthed kisses along her neck and collar bones, trailing down to the valley between her breasts. He takes one of her nipples in his mouth, sucking on it gently then teasing the bud with his teeth. When he releases it and looks up at her his eyes almost look glazed over, dreamy.

“I’ve always had a thing for your tits” he confesses, his lips coming down to repeat the action on the other nipple.

“Your turn to take your shirt off” she whines as he removes his lips, the cold air hardening her nipples now that he’d teased them. He drags his eyes away from her for a second so that he can peel his shirt off over his head.

On pure instinct she rakes her nails across his now bare chest, leaning in close to place kisses into the crook of his neck, moving up painfully slow, kissing along the column of his throat, landing on the soft skin beneath his ear. She can feel the moans rippling in his throat against her lips. While he’s stilled beneath her she takes the opportunity to tuck her hands in behind him, digging her nails into his back and dragging them across the skin with force. Certainly leaving harsh red lines in their wake. The noises that escape him might be the best thing she’s ever heard.

“You like it when I mark you up?” she moans into his ear, “When I make you mine?” she can feel wetness pooling between her own legs as she says the words. The very thought of it turning her on more than she ever thought it could.

Clearly he feels the same, something erupts in him and the hands that had been resting on her hips were now lifting her up and laying her down on the bed. He was on top of her now, his hair framing his face as he looked down at her, and she was biting her fucking lip in anticipation.

He almost can’t even look directly at her so he snakes down her body, littering her torso with kisses and licks. Once he lands at her hips he takes the elastic of her panties between his teeth, pulling it up and letting it go so that it snaps against her stomach. She lets out a low moan.

“Let’s see if I was right earlier, how wet are you for me?” his voice is low as he places small kisses over the cotton, making his way right in between her legs. He pulls back for a second to inspect the fabric, there’s a damp patch covering the majority of the area, as if he didn't know already. “You’re fucking soaked Y/N” he groans and presses his fingers right up against it, forcing the fabric between her folds so that it soaks up even more, “Such a needy little thing aren’t you?”

She can only let out a small whine in response, her teeth biting into her lip so hard she was afraid she might start bleeding.

“Better get rid of these, don’t you think?” he hooks his fingers into either side of her panties, sliding them down her legs. He takes them and places them on his pillow before returning to his position between her legs.

He’s slow and deliberate in his actions, teasing painfully as he places sloppy kisses on the delicate skin inside of her thighs. Stopping right at the top to nip and suck enough to leave a bruise. Taking the time to stop and leave a matching bruise on the other thigh.

She was starting to grow restless, she felt like she was literally aching for any stimulation at all.

“Spencer” she whines, “Please, I’m so fucking turned on already”. She can feel him chuckle, his exhale sends a burst of cold air right against her pussy.

“So impatient” he chastises, but gives in anyway. Laying his tongue flat against her, taking a moment to taste her before he starts to move. Licking deft strokes along her folds, alternating with sucking softly on her clit.

“Spencer, fuck, oh my god” is all she can muster as her back arches up off the bed, her hips squirming as he pins them down. “You feel so fucking good”

He takes the encouragement and brings a finger to her entrance, pushing it in at an agonizing pace, curling it upwards against her once it’s fully inside. “You’re so fucking tight Y/N, do you think you could even handle another finger?” he has to take his mouth off of her to speak but it’s worth it for the downright filthy sounds she makes in response. He takes that as a yes and slowly pushes two fingers in this time. Bringing his lips back down to wrap around her clit and suck.

Her hands fly down to his curls as he works his fingers in and out of her at a relentless pace. She grabs handfuls of his hair and pulls them harshly, not knowing where else to put the energy. “Fuck Spencer, feels so good, don’t stop” she mutters between gasps.

He continues his ministrations and he would be lying if he said the feeling of her hands pulling at his hair weren’t doing something for him.

A moment later and she’s barely able to control her movements, thrashing in the bed as he continues to work his fingers in and out of her, relishing the feeling of her walls tightening around him. Once she’s relaxed again he takes his fingers out, bringing them up to her lips, without telling her to she opens her mouth, taking the two fingers in, letting her tongue move around them to taste herself.

It’s one of the many memories from tonight he knows he wont forget anytime soon. Or ever.

“I can see why you like it” he says, leaning over her, talking into the crook of her neck, “having your hair pulled, feels fucking amazing” she lets out a weak laugh, regaining her strength.

“Told you you liked pain” she reaches down between them, grabbing his cock through his boxers, “You must’ve really liked it” she teases, squeezing as his eyes flutter shut and he nods.

He maneuvers a little so that he can take off his boxers, and finally she gets to see it. It’s perfect, bigger than she expected, it looks painfully hard, precum leaking from the tip. He moves back to hover over her, lingering for a minute to take her in. She thinks there might be something almost sweet behind his expression.

“Just fuck me already” she smirks up at him and he rolls his eyes without even meaning to.

“Will you ever stop antagonizing me?”

“If you fuck me maybe?”

With that he leans down to capture her lips in a heated kiss, she can taste herself on his tongue as it tangles with hers. She can feel him push up against her, the head of his cock just teasing at her entrance before sinking in so slowly she was almost angry.

“Fuck Y/N, you feel so good, so fucking tight, so fucking wet for me” he’s whispering right into her hear and she can barely string together a sentence.

“Spencer, you’re so big, fill me up so good with your fingers, with your cock, fuck” as he starts to move they both start to lose it, her hands digging into his back, her nails sinking into his shoulders leaving small half-moons in his skin. He finally starts to build a steady rhythm, thrusting in and out of her, filling the room with the pornographic sounds of skin on skin, coupled with their moans.

Once she can feel the familiar feeling building within her again she starts to lose control completely, her nails scratching marks into the expanse of Spencer’s back, hearing the little breathy gasps he lets out each time she does might be enough to make her cum all on their own.

“I’m close” she mewls, letting her head fall back against the pillow, exposing her neck, eyes screwing shut.

“Fuck, me too” he takes the opportunity presented to him, and wraps one of his hands around her neck, squeezing ever so slightly.

“Ahh, fuck” she breathes out with the little air that she has, “gonna cum” and she does, he can feel her tighten around his cock, her body writhing beneath his and arching up off he bed as he continues to fuck into her.

He’s following behind just a second later, spilling into her as he collapses back down, releasing his grip on her throat completely and settling on her chest.

They both take a moment. Melting into one another, steading out their breathing.

It’s Y/N who breaks the silence, “So you’ve always had a thing for my tits then?”

He cranes his neck up to look at her, “Shut up” he breathes, laying his head back down on her chest. She cards her fingers through his hair, smoothing it back down.

“Now you know how to make me.”

Masterlist

[souichioneshots]

Passing Notes 【Souichi x Reader Fluff】

Summary: You and Souichi had never really spoken before. But after getting new seats, you two start to exchange notes with one another.

It all started when the new semester started and everyone was assigned new seats.

The class had been proceeding the same as always when suddenly a folded-up piece of paper landed on Souichi’s desk.

Opening it up he saw the words,

Y/N: Sorry, but what page are we on?

Turning to the side where the paper came from, he saw you. You had turned towards him, but weren't looking directly at him.

You and Souichi had never really spoken to one another before. Thinking about it now, Souichi had never seen you talk to anyone before. The only time you spoke was when the teacher called on you to answer a problem. Other than that you were silent, always hiding in your own shadow as you tried to avoid interacting with people.

Writing the page number under your words, he slid the paper back onto your desk. Giving him a small bow as a thank you, you quickly turned to the assigned page.

From that day on, you would pass notes to Souichi whenever the teacher wasn't looking.

Although most of the notes you passed him were brief and casual, today you started off by asking him a heavy question.

Y/N: What do boys like?

Souichi squinted in confusion as he looked down at the note. What kind of question was that?

Turning his head to the side, he looked at you. You were looking down at the worksheet on your desk, trying your best to focus on the problems written on it.

Souichi sighed deeply as he looked back at the note. He noisily moved the nails around in his mouth as he thought to himself.

Are you trying to figure out a way to approach a guy? How is he supposed to answer that? The question is way too broad.

Scribbling on the back of the paper, he poked your elbow and handed it back to you.

S: Everyone is different. If it’s a guy you like, you should just ask him yourself.

Ripping another piece of paper from your journal, you wrote back.

Y/N: But I’ve never actually talked to him before… S: Love at first sight type of thing?

Suddenly, you shoved the paper into your bag and turned away from Souichi. The conversation between the two of you ended there.

Souichi couldn’t help but wonder that night why you thought it would be a good idea to ask him such a thing. Although he didn’t have social anxiety like you, he certainly wasn’t popular or qualified enough to answer such questions. But still, he felt proud that you thought so highly of him.

When the next day came, you immediately started to pass Souichi notes.

Y/N: Do you like cookie straws? S: I’ve never had one before. Y/N: I have some. Is strawberry okay? S: Yeah! I love strawberry!

When lunch came, you reached into your bag and pulled out a small pink package.

Scribbling onto a piece of paper, you handed both to the pale boy.

Y/N: These are from my home country. They’re my favorite. I hope you like them too…

Just as Souichi was about to verbally thank you, you got up from your seat and walked out of the classroom.

He'll just have to thank you later.

After finishing his own bento, Souichi opened the package. He was surprised when the delicious smell of strawberry filled the air around him.

“Woah. These are really good!” Souichi said to himself as he ate the sweet snack in big bites.

Before he knew it, he had eaten all 10 cookie straws in one go.

When lunch finally came to an end, you walked back into the classroom.

Sliding a piece of paper onto your desk, Souichi gave you a smile.

S: Thanks for the cookies. They were super good.

You gave Souichi a small bow and placed the note into your bag.

As the class went on, you didn’t make any attempts to pass him any more notes. Souichi rested his head in his hand as he looked at you. His eyes looked you up and down as you continued to write in your notebook.

Now that he got a good look at you, you were actually kind of cute. Because you were a foreigner, you stood out like a sore thumb, but not necessarily in a bad way. Maybe that’s why you felt anxious about hanging out with people so much?

Souichi tensed up a bit as you suddenly turned and look at him.

Pulling your notebook up, you showed him what you had been doing.

Souichi quickly put his hand up to his mouth, trying to stifle his laughter as he looked upon a drawing you had done. It was the homeroom teacher hanging from the ceiling as he continued to ‘teach’ the class. Even though it was just a sketch, the detail was amazing.

Ripping out a piece of paper from his own notebook, he passed you a note.

S: You’re really good at drawing. What else can you draw?

He could see a small blush appear on your cheeks as you read his note.

Taking out a new piece of paper, you moved your textbook in a way that hindered Souichi from seeing what you were doing.

When you finished, you folded the paper half and passed it to him.

Souichi’s eyes widened in surprise as he opened it up to see a picture of him. You had drawn him in his current uniform, but with a long vampire cape. The nails in his mouth had been replaced real vampire fangs, making him look like the vampire he always wanted to be.

Souichi couldn’t help but stare at the drawing. It was the most amazing thing he had ever received.

He didn’t exactly know how to thank you, but he needed to give you something in return.

As the class was coming to an end, Souichi handed you one last note.

S: If you want to talk with the guy you like, why not try greeting him in the morning?

It wasn’t much, but it was a start. It would help you break the ice with the guy you liked and even help cure your social anxiety too.

You looked down at the note with emotionless eyes. When the final bell rang, you shoved it into your bag and quickly made your way out of the class.

As the next day came, Souichi noticed that you had arrived before him today.

He gave you a small bow as he sat down in his seat next to you. However, you didn’t bow back. Instead, you turned towards him and rubbed your wrist with your hand. Your mouth moved in small motions, but no words came out. Not that he could hear at least.

Not able to understand what you had just said, Souichi tiled his head to the side in confusion. He was expecting you to try to speak again, but you just turned to the other side and, taking out a random textbook from your desk, pretended to read from it.

The entire time the class went on, you hadn’t tried to pass him any more notes again.

Had something happened between you and the guy you liked? Maybe you finally talked to him?

Souichi suddenly started to feel irritated as he thought about how you might be trying to throw him away now that your social anxiety was slowly being cured.

When cleaning duty came, you and Souichi had been assigned to eraser cleaning duty.

You had kept your distance from Souichi most of the time, but as people started to slowly leave the classroom, you walked up to him.

Bringing a piece of white chalk up to the blackboard, you wrote in tiny letters.

Y/N: Can I call you by your first name?

You placed the chalk down and stared at the words, waiting for the raven-haired boy to respond.

Taking the chalk into his own hands, Souichi wrote back.

S: Sure

Wrapping your hand around your wrist, you started to nervously rub it again. You tried to look up at the boy, but your eyes quickly looked in a different direction when his eyes met yours.

“……Souichi…”

Souichi’s face suddenly felt warm as you whispered his name.

Taking the chalk back into your hand again, you quickly wrote.

Y/N: You can call me by my first name. It’s Y/N.

He already knew your first name. There was no need to remind him.

“Y/N.”

You jolted at the sound of your name coming from the tall boy beside you.

Quickly grabbing an eraser, you erased the writing and ran to the open window. Souichi laughed as a huge cloud of chalk dust surrounded you, causing you to go into a small coughing fit.

He was happy that you actually tried to talk to him. Even if it was just you saying his name and running away in embarrassment.

When the day finally came to an end, Souichi noticed that you hadn’t gotten out of your seat yet. You stayed as still as possible until you two were the only ones left in the classroom.

He was going to write you a note to ask what was wrong, but he stopped when you turned towards him.

You brought your hands up to your desk and pushed your body up, almost as if you were about to leave. But then you suddenly sat back down again.

You had also wrapped your hand around your wrist for a second, however, you quickly pulled it away when you looked at the boy sitting next to you.

You looked extremely nervous.

Taking a deep breath, you spoke in a calm but slightly loud voice.

“Good morning!”

Souichi’s eyes widened in surprise as his cheeks burned red. He finally understood everything that had been going on with you.

Unsure how to respond, he just continued to look at your ever-worsening anxious expression.

Suddenly you pushed yourself off your seat and grabbed your bag. Souichi moved from his own seat as you walked to the door of the classroom.

Rushing towards you, he put his hand out and grabbed the strap of your bag, stopping you from going any further.

His heart raced as he looked into your eyes and responded.

“…Good morning.”

[sheloooveswomen]

new nurse - ellie staple x reader

masterlist

summary: in the company nurse’s office?! oh me oh my. you have to go for your yearly health exam for work. i know ellie isn't this type of doctor but oh well. i watched an actual exam on youtube for this. 

includes: ellie x fem!reader, thoughts are italicized, all in reader’s POV.

warnings: nsfw/smut. i’m trying to get better at it.

i don’t really like this one but again i say: oh well.

3,700 words

Y/N POV//

There's no doubt I'm looking at the new nurse... It’s certainly not the view I expected.

Leaning over her desk, she sorts through papers. Her pose bringing up the hem of her white uniform to draw attention to long legs clad in white tights.

fucking hell.

I quickly close my eyes to try and delete what I just saw and thought from my brain. Seems I should've been worrying about the examiner instead of the examination.

great. cool cool cool.

Clearly the new company nurse is nothing like the old one. Martha was a slim woman in her mid 60s that would tell stories about her grandkids and what the company was like before I was even born. She had comforting Meryl Streep energy. Not the energy of a redhead in heels that would make me twist my ankle.

I should turn and run very very fast, but I can't because I'd like to remain employed. But I would very much not like to embarrass myself in front of- oh lovely she sees me now.

With a smile she waves me into her office.

Of course the rest of her is stunning.

"Hi, sorry- I wasn't sure if I should knock or- I'm—"

"Y/n L/n?" she finishes.

"Right" I force a smile.

"I'm Dr.Staple, but Ellie is fine. Just let me finish looking over your file and we can go right through to the examination room."

The last thing I needed was for her to return to her previous position to read the file, but she did.

Wow look at that ceiling and these posters are so very interesting, educational, one might say.

Once again clearing my head of the sight is impossible.

“I’ve been turning over the old files into a new database so I’m only now seeing your medical history.” It couldn't have been more than a minute before she spoke again, "It looks like you're in good shape."

{ a/n: pretending i'm healthy mentally and physically for this one }

My confusion did not go unnoticed.

Ellie turns to sit on her desk and laughs, "Your health I mean."

The blush that was for sure on my face already intensifies under her gaze, "Oh um- yeah I haven't had to come here aside from the yearly check ups." my eyes dart back to the posters.

"Well, time for another one" she gathers the papers and nods her head towards the other door, "come on through to the examination room."

After letting me in first, Ellie lays a stethoscope around her neck. Giving me time to scan the room and realize everything is the exact same as it was last time. Besides the fact that my heart is trying to punch a hole through my chest. I try to take deep yet quiet breaths to relax. Not working at all, which is making it worse. Hearing the door close I try to return her smile, or at least have a neutral expression.

"You can set your bag there" she gestures to a chair, "you only need to take off your shirt and shoes, then we can get started."

"Should I put a gown on?" I ask.

"If you'd like" she replies, scribbling away on a blank form, "this shouldn't take long so just staying in your shorts would be fine, too, since I'll need to take a look at your back."

"Oh, okay." I nod dumbly, trying to form a thought.

"Would you like me to get you a gown?"

Looking to the opposite side of the room I see Ellie suppressing a smile.

I'm not the greatest with social interaction but there's something behind that smile right.

"No it's okay." I blurt out before I can stop myself.

"We'll just start with your vitals once you're ready" she goes to wash her hands and put on gloves.

Hyperaware of the possibility of her eyes on me, I set my bag down and reach for the top button of my uniform. Somehow I manage to take it off without fumbling the buttons. The image of Ellie leaning over her desk flashes through my mind.

Your constant harassment of the female gender makes me sick.

I rub my now clammy hands over my shorts before folding my top and placing it on my bag. Nervously adjusting the straps of my bra (a relatively nice one thank god) and the waistline of my shorts.

"You can go ahead and take a seat on the examination able."

Seeing her reach for the blood pressure cuff does nothing to ease my heartbeat.

Still too late to run?

Ellie speaks up having noticed my hesitation, "No need to be nervous." That also did nothing to ease my heartbeat, "Whichever arm you'd like.” I hold my left arm out for her to wrap the cuff around. She gently taps my forearm, "Just relax your shoulder for me"

Once done she jots down my blood pressure and slides over in front of me on her rolling stool.

"Any concerns overall? I'm gonna ramble off what I'm looking at just so you're aware and we don't sit in silence. Feel free to ask questions, okay?"

"Okay" I can't help but smile back.

"I didn't see any masses or lesions...mobility and turgor is within normal limits...may I see your hands?"

When I lift them for her, she squeezes them in her own and looks at them.

"Uh no concerns, by the way." I answer her question from earlier.

"Good, capillary refill is less than two seconds bilaterally. Feel free to speak up if anything comes to mind while you're here. History of migraines or light sensitivity?"

"No."

She stands to allow her fingers to comb through my scalp and add pressure to different points around my head, "Let me know if you have any pain or discomfort from this."

"Alright" quite comfortable actually.

"Good, no signs of alopecia...no pain from palpation, the skull is normal cephalic and atraumatic. You wouldn't believe how many people have been hit in the head around here and did nothing about it until I notice" she checks things off on her clipboard before pulling out a small notecard, "now I'll check your vision acuity."

She holds it about a foot away from my face.

"Just cover one eye and read the bottom line for me."

"Four, two, six, seventy-nine.”

"Perfect, can you cover the other eye and read the line above backwards."

"Nine, three, seven, sixty-two, four."

"Perfect" she scribbles away and stands closer, "now what I'm gonna do is have my hands behind your head and then bring them into your field of view and I'd like you to let me know when you can see them, okay?"

"Yup." where do I look, I may burst into flames if we have to hold eye contact.

"Just look at my nose" she taps it and winks.

Easy now woman I am gay

She brings her hands behind my head and then forward at different heights.

"Which ones wiggling?" she asks after I've said I can see them.

"Your left." I smile.

"Good, one more time"

"Which ones wiggling?" she bites her lip as she smiles.

"Your right."

"Perfect. Visual fields are intact in all four quadrants. I'll just look at your eyes now."

Of course

"Your eyelids are without ptosis and under ectropion, the sclera are white without erythema, look up for me?" cupping my face she rests her thumbs on either side of my nose and lightly draws down my lower lid, "Conjunctiva are pink. Next I'll look at the lenses so just stare at the bridge of my nose."

She removes a small flashlight from the chest pocket, moves it from the side of my face to the front, and does the same on the other eye.

"Good, no opacities or crescentic shadows... corneal reflection is symmetrical bilaterally, keep staring at the bridge of my nose…" she puts a hand up to block one side of my face and shines the light on the uncovered eye before turning it off and holding it vertically in front of me, "…good now if I can have you stare at the tip of my penlight then focus on the back wall...now back to the penlight...and to the back wall...great."

Ellie stops to check a few more things off the paper.

"Now eyes still on the pen light and without moving your head follow it with your eyes" she moves it vertically, horizontally, closer, and farther, "great you can relax for me." she pats my knee.

Reaching around me she pull an instrument off the wall.

"Next is the ophthalmoscope -say that three times fast- I'm just gonna take a look in your eyes. You'll see a bit of light, okay?"

"Okay."

She smiles stepping closer, "I'll try to be quick. Pick a spot on the back wall for me, I'm just gonna brace your head." she tilts my head back slightly and lifts the skin of my brow before looking through the instrument. "Red reflex noted...okay and other side...again red reflex noted...great. Optic disc and optic cup visualized, clear borders, no AV nicking noted, and no papilledema...now for your ears."

She replaces the tool on the wall and takes down another.

"I'll check your auditory acuity this time. It’s not uncommon for people surrounded by ongoing, loud machinery daily to have slight hearing problems." she pulls the table forward, "I'll just stand behind you and whisper a series of numbers or letters and I need you to repeat them back to me."

"Okay."

"Can you plug your right ear for me," she stands at the corner of the table behind me and whispers, "B N 6."

"B N 6." I repeat.

"Perfect, and the other ear," she shifts to the other side, "L 5 9."

"L 5 9."

"Auditory acuity intact bilaterally, on inspection no obvious masses or lesions, let me know if you have any pain with this." she steps almost between my legs and feels behind and below my ears, then tugs on the cartilage and lobes.

"No pain."

"Good, now I'll just take a look inside," she sits beside me on the table, "tilt your head just slightly away from me, perfect...tympanic membrane visualized...without erythema."

She returns the instrument to the wall and stands in front of me again.

"Let me know if you have any pain with this as well." she presses the pads of her thumbs where my eyebrows meet the bridge of my nose and then along the top of my cheekbones, "How long have you been working here?"

"Four years."

"Wow, what is it you do?"

"I handle the manual machinery. Mostly glass and wood carving, woodworking."

"You're quite handy then?"

"I like to think so." I smile at the innuendo.

She tilts her head and smiles, "No pain on palpation of the frontal or maxillary sinuses...I'll check your lymph nodes so again let me know if you have any pain." Ellie places her fingertips between my jaw and ears, where my jaw meets my throat, on the underside of my jaw, and where my shoulders meet my neck, "Tilt your head to the side for me."

My eyes fall to her lips and lift to unintentionally meet hers.

"Hi" she giggles, continuing to press against the nape of my neck.

I gotta gay- go I gotta go,"Hi" I laugh nervously.

"Tilt to the other side for me please...good, now just push your shoulders forward and lift them towards your ears." She presses the space between my collar bones and neck. Having glanced at my cleavage she clears her throat, "Looks good- your lymph nodes. All non-palpable so I-I'll check your trachea."

Ellie clears her throat again and glides her forefinger and thumb down either side of my throat while resting her other hand on my shoulder.

"Trachea is midline without deviation...coming down off of the cricoid cartilage...tilt your head slightly forward...perfect...swallow for me...” her eyes meet mine this time, “Perfect."

I’m gonna need her to stop activating my praise kink.

She checks more things off, "I'll have a listen to your heart.” Ellie moves the stethoscope to different points on my chest, asking me to take deep breaths. There's a lapse in silence before she comments, "Is it the medical or me making your pulse run so fast?"

When I finally look at her, a cheeky smile is on her face. A nervous laugh leaves my lips again when the side of her hand grazes the top of my boob to place the stethoscope back over my heart.

"Definitely me," she smirks, "it may be beating faster than mine...stand up and turn around for me." she adds quietly.

How could I forget this part?

"Good. I'll just check your spine now. It's common for issues to come up in your line of work, with the being hunched over and constant heavy lifting. No scapula protrusions or torso shift...touch your toes for me."

Oh goody

"No abnormal protrusion of the ribs or spine...stand back up. I'll have to do a lung exam."

"Sure"

"Can I unclip this, briefly?" she asks quietly, resting her hand on the clasp of my bra, "I just have to feel your back muscles."

"Oh- yeah that's fine." I keep my arms at my sides so the cups and straps stay in place.

"Let me know if there's any pain or tenderness…" her hands add pressure going from my shoulder blades to the curve of my waist, "good...no abnormalities in the muscles surrounding the lungs...although you're a little tense." she says more to herself.

Her hands hold my waist just below my ribs.

"Deep breath in...and out...symmetrical lung expansion...I'm gonna have a listen to your lungs so hug yourself and lean forward a bit for me. Just take deep breaths through your mouth when you feel the stethoscope on your back, any lightheadedness just let me know." she presses the stethoscope at different points along either side of my spine and ribs.

The cold metal makes me hold my breath for a second but it's the hand delicately resting on my hip that has all my attention.

"Vesicular breathing heard in all lung fields, no adventitious breathing sounds." Her lips along my neck sent a shiver down my spine, "Perfect." her hold on my hip tightens when I arch into her. My breathing becomes staggered as she places the stethoscope on the table, “Are you sure?” she slowly removes her gloves, giving me time to think- as if I need it.

I slip the straps off of my shoulder and plop it on the chair with the rest of my belongings. She comes to stand behind me and I turn my head to the side to nudge my nose against hers.

Ellie hesitates, "No one finds out about this."

Bringing my arms back to rest my hands on the sides of her thighs I promise, "I won't say a word."

Her wandering hands find my chest to take my breasts into her hands. Her lips glide across my shoulder then back up to my ear. Nothing is heard in the room aside from quiet gasps and the dirty sweet nothings she whispers in my ear. "I think I want to taste you first, I'm a bit impatient." Her hold on my breasts is released so she can unbuckle my shorts. Pulling them down over my hips and reaching around me to lay them over my bag.

How polite

She grips my shoulders to turn me around, trapping me between her and the side of the table. Finally bringing me into a searing kiss. Her palms find the back of my thighs to hoist me onto said table, hands settle on my knees eager to push them apart, "May I?"

I nod quickly.

Her lust filled gaze is trained between my legs, "All for me?"

I don’t get a chance to reply when Ellie pulls me closer to the edge. The anticipation building as she slowly removes my underwear. One hand goes back to my center while the other holds the back of my neck to bring my forehead to hers. The intimacy of the embrace earns a moan from me and a velvety laugh from her, "Does that feel good?"

I nod dumbly, overwhelmed by her fingers making languid circles over my clit.

She pulls her stool over with her foot and takes a seat. Trailing featherlight kisses from my knee to my inner thigh, skipping over where I need her most and kissing up the other leg. The sudden weakness makes me drop down onto my elbows. She spreads my lips with her hand and before I know what's happening, her tongue is on me. My body spasms at the attention, hips rolling to match her rhythm as I lay flat.

Her red hair flows over my stomach and I have to run my fingers through it. Brushing it out of her face so I can see her, holding it in my hand to encourage her, tensing when I can't take it anymore.

"Mhm, there you go..."

My back arches, "Oh fuck" I slap my hand over my mouth.

"Shhh” she smiles, “I know, baby, I know." Ellie takes hold of my hips to keep her mouth locked on my center while I writhe, "Mhm cum for me mhmm-"

My hips move on their own but she keeps pace, seeing through as the waves of my climax crash and crest. Once I calm down she stands and brings me towards her by my wrists. Wrapping my arms around her waist and cupping my face to bring me into a kiss, allowing me to taste myself.

"Were you watching me before you came in?" she asks, kissing along my jaw.

Embarrassment mixed with excitement has me admitting to it, "Yes."

"Bad girl...did you think about pulling my skirt up?"

"Yes…" I confess quietly.

"Do it." Still reeling from how soft her lips are, I take a moment to process her words. A smile graces her face as she steps to the side and bends over the examination table, "Well?"

Stepping down from the table, my legs and hands tremble as I reach out. Grazing against the back of her thigh at the hem of her skirt.

"It's easier if you're on your knees." she smirks, shifting her hips from side to side. The anticipation in her not so subtle request makes me realize how much she's enjoying this, too.

Dropping to my knees I reach up again to run my hands up the sides of Ellie's legs. Slowly pushing her skirt up, garters clipped to her tights come into view.

Am I dreaming?

Bringing my hands around to the front of her thighs, I brace myself in order to kiss the back of them softly. Flicking my tongue out ever so slightly before gently biting.

"Tease" Ellie let's out a breathy laugh.

I tug on the hem of her dress, "Can I take it off?"

She turns to face me, looking down at me as she unbuttons the top of the dress. Leaving the last few for me to do and allowing me to pull it down over her hips. "Is that better?" she asks stepping out of it.

"Much" I smile up at her.

She runs her thumb over my jaw and asks, "How do you want me?"

"C-can you sit on the table?"

She bends over to kiss me once more, "Keep looking at me like that and you can have whatever you want."

Resting my hand on her inner thigh I now press firmer kisses to her lower stomach until my hand reaches her covered center, where I placed an equally firm kiss over her clit.

After her hips buck ever so slightly, Ellie's fingers find their way into my hair but I don’t need any encouragement to remove the lace barrier. Once I do, a sharp tug at my roots pulls me up to her face for another deep kiss.

"The next time you come see me I won't even bother wearing anything under my dress" she said.

Fueled by her promise I duck my head to glide my tongue over her cleavage. Noticing the front clip I quickly unsnap it, freeing her breasts and earning a groan when I sweep across her hardened nipple. Making sure to pull it between my lips and teeth.

I kiss all the way down to her stomach, watching her muscles ripple as I slip lower. Her hand makes its way into my hair again, eyes close, breath spilling out in a heavy panting gasp. She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip when my tongue plunges inside her, soon replaced with two fingers. But there was no stopping the final moan when the burning rush of pleasure left her shaking.

Her thighs twitch from the continued penetration. I finally come up for air when Ellie pulls my head away and stills my wrist.

After a bliss filled laugh she brings my fingers to her mouth and cleans them. Drawing me even closer by wrapping her legs around my waist and pulling my arms around her once again. She kisses me slowly, sucking on my tongue as we part.

"I really hate to say it but we should probably finish your exam" she laughs, sitting up on her elbows, "you have anywhere to be after this?"

"I was gonna grab something to eat...seems I did anyway." I smile.

Her cheeks are tinted pink, breathing still evening out, "Seems you did. I know we skipped right to dessert- I told you I'm impatient, but do you wanna go grab some real food once we're done with this?" she motions towards her clipboard that holds the exam form.

"Sure." I nod excitedly.

Ellie laughs again, squishing my face, "We should probably get dressed then, huh?"

"That sounds like a good idea, I'm struggling to keep my eyes on your face." I smirk.

She rolls her eyes getting up, "I'm trying to do my job here."

"You've already done me so I guess that's fair." I sigh dramatically.

"Put some clothes on and stop giving me those eyes." she chuckles, pushing my discarded clothing against my chest.

[criminalmindzjunkie]

Avoidance

masterlist

part two

Summary: Reader doesn’t know what she did to make Spencer hate her so much.

A/N: This fic is just a reminder that sub!Spencer lives rent free in my head at all times. Also, if anyone would like to be on a taglist for one shots like these, let me know! I’m going to work on getting one started.

Pairing: sub!Spencer/femdom! reader

Content Warnings: honestly way too much swearing, sexual harassment, slapping, hands free orgasm, oral sex (male and female receiving), hand job, orgasm denial, edging, unprotected sex, vaginal penetration, degradation, femdom 

Word Count: 8.2k

           I have absolutely no idea what I’ve done to make Spencer Reid hate me.

           Usually, when someone despises a person to the point of complete and total avoidance, there’s a reason. No one just wakes up and decides to resent another person for the hell of it – right? Wrong.

           Because Spencer Reid positively loathes me – and I have no idea why.

           It all started on my first day at the BAU. I had somehow landed the highly coveted job of media liaison after the previous one had decided to complete the training to be a profiler. For reasons unbeknownst to me, they thought a twenty-four-year-old fresh out of college with no prior job experience was the best fit for the position. I didn’t understand it, but I also wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

           To say that I had been terrified the first time I set foot into the bullpen would be the understatement of the century. After a very formal and very intimidating orientation with the unit chief, my predecessor, a beautiful blonde named Jennifer, offered herself up to be my personal tour guide. Jennifer introduced me to the other members of the team, and with every smiling face I came in contact with, my fears of being the odd man out were assuaged. I could tell that Penelope Garcia, tech analyst extraordinaire, would most likely be my biggest ally – and it was abundantly clear that Derek Morgan and I would probably get into a fair amount of mischief together. Elle Greenaway seemed like the obvious choice for a future drinking buddy, and Jason Gideon – well, he merely grunted at me in acknowledgment before retreating back to his office. I figured three out of four wasn’t so bad.

           I didn’t meet Doctor Spencer Reid until after lunch. Jennifer mentioned something about him guest lecturing at a local university, which surprised me considering she mentioned him being a year younger than me. Apparently, the kid was an actual genius, which was more than a little bit intimidating, but Jennifer assured me that Spencer was a sweetheart.

           “He’s a little quirky, but I’m sure you’ll love him. Just don’t be surprised if he tries to talk your ear off,” Jennifer laughs. “Last week I asked him about the weather and he went off on a tangent about climate change that lasted nearly an hour.”

           By the time Spencer strolled into the bullpen at exactly one in the evening, I was sitting perched atop Jennifer’s desk, thoroughly engrossed as she told me about their latest case. When she stops talking midsentence in favor of smiling at someone behind me, I half expect that Morgan is attempting to sneak up on me, when:

           “Hey, look who’s back,” Jennifer greets, prompting me to turn around excitedly. I was eager to put a face to the man I’d heard so much about.

           And when I turn, my eyes land on the prettiest man I’ve ever seen.

           Sharp cheekbones and a chiseled jawline are framed by shaggy brown hair, complete with beautiful brown eyes and soft, pillowy lips. As if his good looks weren’t enough, he’s dressed in the most adorably nerdy sweater vest and a pair of thin framed glasses. He’s absolutely precious – a fact that Jennifer had conveniently left out.

           “How was the lecture?” Jennifer asks him as he places his satchel on the desk adjacent to hers. Spencer perks up at this, smiling excitedly from across the divider.

           “I think it went really good, actually. I incorporated this really cool joke that I heard about quantum physics. Do you want to-”

           He stops abruptly when he realizes Jennifer isn’t his only spectator, and those lovely brown eyes go almost comically wide when they settle on me.

           “Spencer, this is Y/N Y/L/N. She’s the new media liaison. Y/N, this is Doctor Spencer Reid.”

           I give him my best smile, tacking on a small wave for good measure.

           “It’s nice to meet you, Doctor Reid. Jennifer’s told me a lot about you.”

           “Uh, y-yeah. It’s n-nice to meet you, too,” Spencer stutters. He looks positively stricken and I’m fairly sure he hasn’t blinked in over a minute. I cast a glance at Jennifer, who seems just as confused as I am.

           Well, she had mentioned that he was a tad strange.

           “I’d like to hear the joke,” I offer, only to immediately regret it when I see him tense up.

           “N-No, that’s o-okay,” he chokes out as he struggles to gather the files on his desk. “It’s n-not that good, anyways.”

           And just as quickly as he came, Spencer leaves in a flurry of crumpled papers, leaving Jennifer and I wondering what the fuck just happened.

--

           Things didn’t get better with time. In fact, they got much worse.

           In the six months that I had been working for the BAU, I could count my interactions with Spencer Reid on one hand. It wasn’t for lack of trying on my part – in my desperation to figure out what I’d done to make him avoid me, I sought out the young genius every chance I got. But every time I got within ten feet of him, it’s like an alarm would sound in his head and he’d make up some excuse to leave the room.

           The others had noticed his strange behavior, too. It seemed they all had made a sort of game out of it – calling Spencer into rooms that I was in just to see him panic, or asking me to personally deliver files to his desk. At first, I played into it, hoping that their teasing would help to diffuse some of the tension.

           After a month of being on the receiving end of Spencer’s cold shoulder, I started avoiding him, too.

           I tried to act indifferent – like it didn’t hurt me as badly as it did. I no longer sought him out, and by month two, we had a sort of understanding. I didn’t go near him, and he didn’t go near me, and that’s how it went on for four miserable months.

           Until today.

           “Reid, Y/L/N, you’re in 202.”

           I damn near drop my bag on the floor. This was bound to happen at some point or another, but I hadn’t planned on that day being today, and I was not prepared. After nine hours of running around the local police department, my body was weighed down from fatigue and I was downright grumpy. Not to mention I had picked the worst possible day to try and break in a new pair of heels, and my feet were throbbing.

           Needless to say, I was in no mood to deal with Spencer Reid’s bullshit.

           “Uh, Hotch? Could I maybe room with Elle?” I ask, sending a glare in Morgan’s direction when he snorts out a laugh. Hotch raises an eyebrow at me.

           “Why? Is there a problem?”

           Yes, sir, there certainly is. And your guess is as good as mine as to what that problem is.

           “No, but I just think that-”

           “Good. Then you should be fine to share a room with him.”

           Right.

           I spare a brief glance at Spencer, who, in the last thirty seconds, has turned the color of a tomato. I pray that he’ll speak up and voice his discomfort, but just like always, he stays silent.

           Hotch doles out the room keys and I begin the trek down the hallway, my poor aching feet groaning in protest with every step. I’m vaguely aware of the sound of footsteps behind me, and it’s not until I swipe the key into the key card that Spencer speaks.

           But not to me – no, never to me.

           “Derek, please, I’m begging you. Just switch with me this one time, and – and I’ll do your reports for a month!”

           After six months of dealing with Spencer’s aversion to me, his words should come as no surprise. And really, I’d expected as much - but that didn’t mean it hurt any less.

           “Not happening, kid. This is the perfect opportunity for you to get over whatever problem you have with Y/N. I bet you’ll even end up liking her. She’s not going to be rude to you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

           “… T-That’s not what I’m worried abo-”

           I don’t wait around to hear the rest of his sentence. I push open the door to the room, not bothering to wait for Spencer before closing it. I kick off my heels as soon as the door clicks shut, letting out a half relieved, half frustrated  groan.

           After claiming the bed nearest the air conditioner as my own, I pluck my pajamas and toiletry bag out from my suitcase and shuffle over to the bathroom. The way I see it, the quicker I get a shower and can go to sleep, the faster the night will pass. Before I know it, this unfortunate situation will be a thing of the past.

           After drawing out the shower for as long as I possibly could, I exit the bathroom clad in a tank top and a pair of shorts, hair dripping wet and skin freshly scrubbed clean. Spencer’s sitting on his bed, book in hand and tie loosened. He doesn’t look up at me when I walk by - not that I’d expected him to. A thick silence hangs in the air as I pull a bottle of lotion out from my suitcase, and I debate turning on the TV just to make things slightly less awkward. In the end I decide against it, because I doubt even that could make this situation better.

           I prop a leg up on the bed and begin to lather my legs in cherry scented lotion, paying special care to my aching feet before moving on. It’s not until both of my legs have been thoroughly massaged and coated in lotion that I look up.

           Spencer’s eyes are locked on me, mouth hanging open and chest heaving up and down. His knuckles are white from how hard they’re clutching the book in his hands, but despite that I can still see the way they’re trembling. When he realizes I've caught him staring, he closes his mouth and gulps hard.

           I straighten up and raise an eyebrow in a silent question, and that’s enough for Spencer to snap his book shut and scramble off of the bed. He’s clumsy as he moves to his suitcase, dropping his bottle of travel shampoo twice before he reaches the bathroom. If I wasn’t so off put by whatever the hell had just happened, I might have thought it cute.

--

           As if the universe thought my current predicament wasn’t enough to deal with, the next morning I was dealt another shitty hand. This time, my distress came in the form of a young cop who couldn’t pick up on social cues to save his life. After an entire morning of dodging sleazy advances, I finally managed to shake him when his superior sent him out to go and actually do his fucking job.

           Or so I thought.

           I’m standing in the breakroom, pouring my fourth (or is it my fifth?) cup of coffee when I hear the sound of footsteps in the hall. I don’t know if I’ve developed a sixth sense about these things, or if I’m just particularly on edge today, but I know it’s the young officer before he can even cross the threshold.

           And when he does, and he sees that he has me cornered, a saccharine smile stretches across his lips.

           “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he drawls in an accent that could probably be attractive if he wasn’t so damn skeevy.

           “Might wanna get your eyes checked,” I mutter, refusing to look in his direction as I stir my coffee.

           “Pretty and feisty. Just how I like my women.”

           “I am not your anything,” I seethe, and instead of backing off like any respectful human being would, he just chuckles and begins to saunter towards me.

           “C’mon baby, you don’t have to be that way. You don’t have to act all professional with me.”

           “Don’t call me that.” I look at him now, and the smug, self-righteous smile on his face makes my blood boil.

           “You don’t like baby? That’s fine – I’m sure I can think of lots of other things to call you,” he murmurs. He’s closer now, so close that I can practically feel his breath against my neck.

           “I’m going to tell you to stop one more time, and it would be in your best interest to listen,” I growl.

           “Or what?” he taunts. “I’d like to see you try to stop me.”

           I jolt forward when a hand comes down hard on my ass, squeezing me harshly through the material of my skirt.

           Oh, fuck no.

           I’m whirling around faster than I ever thought possible, and then a harsh crack sounds throughout the room as my hand comes in contact with his face.

           My hand stings from the contact, but the pain is welcome because he flies backwards, stumbling and grasping as his already reddening cheek.

           “What the fuck?” he roars, eyes flashing with unbridled fury. I take several steps towards him, and to my utmost delight he nearly trips over himself in his hurry to put distance between us. I stop when his back hits the wall and I lean in until our faces are only inches apart.

           “Listen here, you limp dick fuck,” I snarl. “I’m getting real sick and fucking tired of pathetic pieces of shit like you thinking they can put their hands on women. What’s your problem? Are you so fucking tactless that you can’t get anyone to fuck you?” I punctuate my question by jabbing my pointer finger into his chest and cocking my head to the side. “Are you so unappealing that the only way you can get your hands on a woman is to wait until she’s alone and try to corner her?

           Or is it a power thing? You’ve got the gun and the badge so you think you’re entitled to just take what you want, don’t you? You think no one can stop you because you’re in a position of power. Well, I have some news for you – I outrank you, and you just assaulted a federal agent. I will not stop until I ruin your fucking career, and if you even think of trying to lie your way out of this, I’ll do a helluva lot fucking worse. After the week I’m having, I am just looking for an excuse to kick your fucking dick into the dirt. Do you understand?”

           By the time I finish speaking, my chest is heaving up and down and my eyes are narrowed into slits. The officer is so angry that he’s shaking, hands balled up to fists at his sides. For a moment, I think he’ll try to hit me, but then his hard-exterior cracks and the anger gives way to fear.

           “You – You can’t tell anyone about this,” he says, trying his best to sound menacing. But his voice wavers, and I can tell he’s losing his grip. “It’ll r-ruin my career.”

           I raise my hand up to his cheek, placing my palm over the red imprint I had left on his skin. And then I flash him the sweetest goddamn smile that ever there was.

           “I’d like to see you try to stop me.”

           I give him a pat on the cheek before turning around and heading for the door, only to stop halfway when I see that I have an audience of one.

           Spencer stands in the doorway, a coffee mug gripped tightly in one hand, mouth agape and eyes wide. He’s standing stock still, eyes darting in between the police officer and me. I let out an exasperated sigh because of-fucking-course it would be Spencer that would happen to walk in on whatever that just was.

           “Close your mouth, Reid. That’s how you catch flies,” I deadpan, prompting Spencer to snap his mouth shut.

           Without another word, I brush past him and leave the break room.

--

           I suppose the universe had decided to finally give me a break, because that afternoon we were able to apprehend the unsub. But my good fortune only went so far, because Hotch announced that we would be leaving first thing in the morning – which meant another night alone with Spencer Reid.

           He didn’t mention what he walked in on when the two of us arrived back at our room, and I didn’t expect him to. The two of us went about the motions of unwinding from the day in complete and utter silence, and by the time I emerge from the shower I decide that I’ve had enough.

           “I’m gonna go stay with Elle and Derek,” I murmur as I zip up my suitcase and slip on my shoes.

           “Oh. O-Okay.”

           And that was that.

           It’s about an hour later when my phone is on four percent that I realize I hadn’t remembered to bring my charger with me. I contemplate just letting it die, but the idea of sitting through a seven-hour jet ride tomorrow without it sounds excruciating. Then again, so does the idea of having to suffer through an interaction with Spencer.

           The phone wins out in the end, and with Derek and Elle still snoring softly in their respective beds, I slip out of the room and into the hallway. With any luck, Spencer will be in a similar state and I’ll be able to sneak in and out without him waking up.

           I think thank my lucky stars when I slowly crack open the door to Spencer’s room and see that the lights are off. I take special care to close the door as quietly as possible before tiptoeing across the carpeted floors, feeling my way around in the dark so that I don’t trip over anything.

I make it halfway across the room when I hear it – it’s quiet, and if the air conditioner had been on, I wouldn’t have even heard it at all. It’s faint, so faint that I wonder if I’d imagined it, but then that same sound breaks through the silence and I know it’s not a product of my imagination.

I hear the covers rustle, and then a low moan followed by the distinct sound of skin on skin. My blood runs cold as the moans grow louder and more frequent, rolling off Spencer’s lips in rapid succession. There’s heavy breathing and whimpering and holy fuck I just walked in on Spencer Reid masturbating.

Spencer cries out a particularly load moan, one that sounds so pornographic that it shoots straight to my core. It’s sexy and dirty and he sounds absolutely wrecked, and the part of my brain that is still capable of logical thinking is screaming get out! Get out, now!

I begin to slowly backtrack, moving at one tenth of the speed that I had coming in because the possibility of being caught is absolutely not an option. If Spencer hates me now, he’d really hate me if he found out I snuck into his room at night and heard… that.

I’m about five feet away from the door when:

“O-Oh my God, yes! Y/N, please - fuck!”

I think then that I certainly have to be dreaming, because there’s no way I’d just heard him correctly. There’s no way that Spencer – the same Spencer that scurried out of the room when I walked in – was moaning my name while he touched himself. Absolutely not.

But then it happens again and again and again – my name falling from his lips incessantly like some kind of debauched chant.

It feels like my skin is on fire – my mind a befuddled mess – and before my brain can tell me what a terrible idea it is, my feet are carrying me back into the room and I’m coming to a stop at the foot of Spencer’s bed.

Bathed in the glow of the moonlight shining through the window, Spencer looks ethereal. There’s a thin line of sweat beading on his forehead, and his usually meticulously slicked back hair is fanned out on the pillow like some sort of halo. His teeth are nestled into his bottom lip now, and all that can be heard are tiny whimpers as his hand slides up and down underneath the bed sheets. Spencer’s always beautiful, almost painfully so. But the way he looks now, shadows dancing across his face as he works himself to orgasm, is infinitely more breathtaking than words can express.

It doesn’t take long for Spencer to release his lip from beneath his teeth, and when he does my name is flying out of his mouth once more.

I take that as my invitation to speak.

“I don’t think I’ve heard you say my name before.”

Spencer’s entire body stills and his eyes fly open to reveal two dark pools full of sheer panic.

“I-I can explain,” he stammers, moving to clutch the comforter to his chest in an attempt to cover himself.

I let out a hum and sit down on the edge of the bed.

“Please do. I’m very interested in hearing about just what you were picturing me doing.”

Spencer sucks in a harsh breath. I can practically see the wheels in his brain turning -desperately trying to concoct some kind of reasonable explanation.

“I-I… I don’t… I’m s-sorry,” he stutters, and it’s so adorable how he’s squirming underneath my gaze that I decide to help him out.

“Was I sucking you off? Or were you fucking me?” I wonder aloud. He tries to hide it, thinking the covers will mask the way that his hips buck up, but I definitely see it.

“I-I…”

“Which was it, Spencer? Was I taking you down my throat or were you fucking my pussy? Or maybe I was coming undone on your face – was that it?”

Spencer lets out a low groan, and if my patience hadn’t been running so fucking thin, I probably would’ve left it at that. But after the hell he’d put me through for the last six months, I feel like he deserved to squirm a little.

“Fucking answer me.”

“Y-You were, um… r-riding me. And you s-slapped m-me.”

Oh.

This just got a lot more interesting.

I raise an eyebrow at him and I can see the way his Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he gulps.

“So, you liked what you saw today, did you?”

Spencer nods so fervently that I have to bite down on my tongue to suppress a laugh.

“Words, baby. Use them.”

“I-I liked it. A lot.”

“Apparently so, seeing as you were moaning for it like a desperate little slut,” I breeze, my tone cool and indifferent. “Have you done this before, Doctor? Touched yourself to the thought of me, that is.”

“… Y-Yes. I’m s-sorry. I didn’t m-mean to. It just kind of happened one night, and once I started, I couldn’t s-stop.”

I reach out a hand and brush away the hair that had fallen into his face, tucking it back behind his ear before continuing.

“Why the cold shoulder, then? And here I thought you hated me,” I muse, before pausing and cocking my head to the side. “Do you hate me, Doctor?” I ask, and just when I thought he couldn’t look more guilty, he proves me wrong.

“No! I just… couldn’t be around you. I felt so b-bad. You were so nice, and I was using you to g-get off,” Spencer explains. “I couldn’t look you in the eye. Not after picturing you… like that.”

I let out a sigh. Knowing that Spencer didn’t actually hate me for the last six months was a relief. Knowing that Spencer was secretly rubbing one out to me was something else entirely. Whatever was I to do with this information?

“So, you want to fuck me, then?” I reiterate. “Why not tell me this sooner?”

“The probability of you responding positively to me telling you that I, uh, m-masturbate to you was very l-low. And after what I saw today, I think I was wise for keeping that from you,” Spencer says, the last part coming out in a rush. I can’t help but let out a low laugh.

“Yes, but the guy that was coming on to me today wasn’t someone I find attractive. He was pompous and crass and pushy - and you, Doctor Reid, are none of those things.”

“R-Really? You think I’m attractive?”

I hum.

“Very much so, Doctor. But I’m afraid you may have waited too long, and now I don’t feel as inclined to be nice,” I murmur, allowing my hand to trail down from his shoulder to his collar bones before lightly grazing his nipple with my thumb.

“O-Oh my… God,” Spencer whimpers, eyes fluttering shut as my fingers continue to dance across his skin.

“But then again, I don’t think you really want me to be nice to you. I think you want me to treat you like my little play thing.” I stop my hand just below his navel and I thumb across the light layer of hair that makes up his happy trail. “You want to be my dirty boy - don’t you, Doctor Reid?”

“P-Please,” Spencer chokes out, hips jerking up when I allow my thumb to graze a little lower.

“Please what?”

Spencer lets out a frustrated groan.

“Please, I-I want you to u-use me. However you want, just as l-long as you just do-don’t stop touching me,” he rambles. He’s shuddering underneath me, his breaths coming out in harsh pants as my hand wanders lower and lower until I abruptly pull away. “W-Why did you stop?”

“Because I don’t think you deserve to be touched just yet. You’ve got six months to make up to me, after all. I think I want you on your knees for me first,” I say, and from the way his eyes seem to dilate even further, I don’t think he has any objections. “Are you familiar with the color system?”

Spencer nods.

“Green for good, yellow means slow down, and red means stop now.”

“Do you have a safe word?”

“I… I’ve never really, uh. Done t-this.”

Oh. Oh.

I withdraw my hand from its place on his leg and Spencer lets out a distressed whine. “No, please! Don’t go. I’m not a complete virgin, I promise. I got a h-hand job once,” he argues. “And I think I’ve done enough, uh, research, and I really want to try to make you cum. I want to be good for you. Please let me try.”

Spencer looks like he’s about two seconds away from crying, and I can feel my argument dying before it even leaves my mouth.

“Oh, baby, I know you’d be so good,” I coo, and just like that Spencer’s leaning towards me, desperate to have the contact. I indulge him, placing my hand on his cheek, and he relaxes into the touch. “Are you sure you want to do this with me? I’m not what anyone would call vanilla, and I don’t think you know what you’re getting into.”

“I trust you. I wouldn’t want it to be anyone else,” Spencer whispers, and he sounds so damn sincere that I feel my resolve crumbling.

“You’ll let me know if at any point you want to stop?”

“Yes. Absolutely!”

Enthusiastic little shit.

“Safe word?”

“Um… Tolstoy?”

I let out a snort.

“Alright, smarty pants. We’re going to start now, okay?”

“Yes, Miss,” Spencer pants out.

Fuck me running. He clearly has been doing his research.

“Get on your knees for me, baby. I wanna see just how eager to please you are,” I instruct as I stand up and shimmy out of my shorts. I discard my shirt, too, absentmindedly throwing it somewhere across the room. Spencer lets out a startled squeak when he sees that I’m now completely naked, aside from my underwear.

“Y-You’re so pretty,” Spencer breathes out. “Even better than I imagined.”

The sentiment tugs at my heart, really, it does, but I specifically requested that he get on his knees and he seems a lot more content to just sit and stare.

“On your knees,” I command, and Spencer jumps up almost comically fast.

“S-Sorry, Miss,” he apologizes as he lowers himself down. I seat myself on the edge of the bed and spread my legs for him.

“Don’t apologize, just do as I ask of you, okay baby?”

Spencer nods.

“C-Can I kiss you? Like on the lips first?” Spencer asks as he looks up at me with big doe eyes. It’s a beautiful thing, the image of Spencer Reid sitting in between my legs, cheeks flushed and chest rapidly rising and falling. I give Spencer a sweet smile and lean forward, and the excitement radiating off of him is practically palpable. He leans forward, too eager to wait for me to close the gap, and the action makes my chest swell in adoration.

Just as our lips are about to meet, I pause, and Spencer barely has the time to look confused before my palm connects with the side of his face. The moan it draws out of him is obscene and his hips jolt forward, desperate for some kind of friction. His dick rests painfully hard between his legs, flushed red with precum beading at the tip.

I waste no time in taking his chin in my hand and tilting his head upwards.

“Did I say you could kiss me?” I ask him, voice sugary sweet, contrasting starkly with my actions.

“N-No, Miss. I’m sorry,” Spencer pants out. His hand twitches at his side and I can see how desperately he wants to touch himself, but his desire to please keeps him still.  

“Then the answer is no. Maybe if you can prove to me that you aren’t completely incompetent at eating pussy, I’ll consider it,” I allow a moment for my words to sink in. “Color?”

“Green. So fucking green,” Spencer whines.

“Good boy,” I praise him, and the effects of my words are instantaneous. Spencer rests his cheek against the skin of my thigh and then he’s nuzzling his face against me in a silent plea for permission. After a moment, his pleas become a lot less silent.

“Wanna be your good boy - please let me,” Spencer begs as his nose brushes against my skin. “I want to make you feel good. S’all I ever think about, since the first time I saw you.”

His words send a jolt of pleasure to my core and I reward his brazen honesty with a tender smile and a nod.

“Go ahead, baby. Let me see what that pretty mouth of yours can do.”

The words barely have time to leave my mouth before Spencer is reaching out and hooking a finger underneath the waistband of my panties. I raise up off the bed just enough for him to slide them down my legs, and before I even manage to settle back down onto the bed, Spencer literally dives in. He starts with one long lick, and by the time he reaches my clit he’s crying out lewd moans against me. The feel of the vibrations mixed with the feel of his mouth on me is maddening in the best possible way, and my eyelids threaten to flutter closed under the weight of my pleasure.

“Fuck, baby – you’re doing so good,” I sigh as I lift my hand up and card my fingers through his hair. “You look so pretty on your knees for me.”

Spencer’s movements stutter when he feels my hand tangle itself into his hair, and I let out a light chuckle. I grab hold of the roots and give an experimental tug. My actions cause his hips to jolt forward violently.

“O-Oh my…” Spencer keens, raising his glossy, lust filled eyes to mine. “H-Harder, please.”

I oblige, and Spencer lets out a particularly filthy groan before lapping at my pussy like a man possessed. His hands come to wrap around my thighs and he pulls me closer to him, causing me to let out a gasp when his nose nudges against my clit. The sound only spurs him on further – Spencer begins assaulting my clit, alternating between short, kitten licks and light sucking. The control I had so adamantly been asserting over him began to slip from my fingertips the longer he worked his mouth against me, and quiet, breathy moans started falling from my lips.

“Such a good boy, Spence,” I moan as I scratch my fingernails against his scalp. “You’re making me feel so good, baby. Love that dirty little mouth of yours.”

Spencer thrives on the praise – that much is made obvious by the way he whimpers and tightens his grip on my thighs. He’s completely submitted himself to the act of getting me off, only stopping long enough to cry out when my hands give a particularly harsh tug on his hair.

“Add a finger, baby,” I tell him, allowing my hand to drift down the side of his face, caressing the sharp angles of his cheekbones.

Spencer releases my thigh from his hold and tentatively raises a hand to my entrance, eyes raising to meet mine.

“You’ll tell me if I do something wrong?” he asks, and his concern is so endearing that I tilt his chin upwards and lean forward until my lips meet his.

Spencer gasps into the kiss, shocked, but it doesn’t take him long before his lips are moving against mine fervently. His lips are slick with my arousal, and I dart my tongue out just long enough to swipe it across his bottom lip.

           “D’you like how I taste, baby?” I murmur against his lips, pulling back slightly when Spencer tries to bring his lips down against mine.

           “S-So much,” he whispers, before letting out a frustrated groan when I tease him with the slightest brush of my lips before pulling away again. “P-Please, kiss me again.”

           I bump my nose against his before I reach down and grab his hand in mine.

           “Don’t be a greedy boy, Spencer. Greedy boys don’t get to cum,” I chastise him as I raise his hand up to my mouth. I trace my bottom lip with his pointer finger as Spencer watches on in rapt fascination, before taking the digit into my mouth and sucking. Spencer chokes out a pathetic cry and his hips hopelessly buck into the air as I swirl my tongue around the pad of his finger, taking special care to coat it with spit before releasing it from my mouth.

           I guide his hand back down to my pussy, gasping when the tip of his finger brushes across my entrance.

           “Just take it slow, baby. Start with one and move up to two once you get the hang of it.”

           Spencer nods, eyes alternating between my face and my entrance as he slowly slides his finger in me.

           “You’re so warm, oh my God,” Spencer breathes out, tentatively pulling out his finger before inserting it back in. I hum appreciatively as he begins to move faster, eyelids fluttering shut when he lowers his head and begins languidly licking my clit.

           “Feels so nice, Spence. I fucking love your fingers. Knew that they’d feel like this. I can only imagine how good your cock will feel,” I ramble, one hand fisted in the sheets and the other tugging on his honey brown hair.

           I groan as he inserts a second finger, reveling in the way he’s stretching me out.

           “Curl your fingers when you – fuck! Just like that, baby. Gonna make me cum if you keep doing t-that.”

Spencer speeds up both the onslaught of his fingers and his mouth at my admission, tongue working figure eights on my clit while his fingers brush up against my g-spot. A familiar warmth starts to spread in my lower belly, and with every swipe of Spencer’s tongue against my clit, the coil in my stomach winds tighter and tighter until, finally:

“O-Oh, fuck, Spence!”

The coil snaps, sending jolts of pleasure straight through my core. I can feel the way my walls tighten around Spencer’s fingers as my orgasm rips through me, never stopping their ministrations in an attempt to help me ride out my high. Vibrations ripple across my clit when Spencer lets out a cry of his own before his movements halt completely as shudders wrack his body.

I know he didn’t just…

           I allow myself a moment to recover before I lean forward and drag my eyes down Spencer’s slender frame – and sure enough, his tummy is covered in white ropes of cum and his now softening cock is hanging limply between his legs.

           Spencer’s eyes reluctantly open when his shudders cease, and one look at my pissy expression is enough to send him into a fit.

           “I-I didn’t mean to cum! I’m so sorry, Miss. It’s j-just that you looked so pretty when you came, and you taste so good! And you were pulling my hair, and you called me a good boy and I just couldn’t do it anymo-”

           “Shut up,” I seethe, voice cold and laced with annoyance. Spencer’s mouth snaps shut and he gulps. “Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t remember saying that you were allowed to come. Am I mistaken?”            “N-No, Miss.”

           “Mm, that’s what I thought,” I hum. “Stand up.”

           “B-But I want to make you cum again! Can I plea-”

           “Shut the fuck up and stand up, Spencer.”

           Spencer rushes to his feet, stumbling a bit when his legs begin to shake. He corrects himself, standing perfectly still in front of me with a shameful look on his face. I scoot back on the bed and fix him with a stony look.

           “I want you to lay on your stomach across my lap. Can you do that, Doctor Reid, or are you too stupid to follow simple directions?”

           Spencer adamantly shakes his head, scrambling to splay out across my bare thighs. Once he’s comfortable, I raise a palm to his bare ass cheek and smooth my hand across the skin.

           “Color?”

           “G-Green,” Spencer stutters out.

           “Wonderful. Since you’ve decided to be a greedy little slut and cum before I gave you permission, I’m going to punish you. Do you remember your safe word, baby?”

           “Tolstoy.”

           “Good boy. I’m going to give you ten, and I want you to count them out for me. One for every month you held out on me, and four because you’re an insolent little whore who can’t do as he’s told. Does that sound fair to you?”

           “Y-Yes, Miss. P-Please.”

           A harsh smack sounds throughout the room, and Spencer lets out a whorish moan that’s bound to wake the people in the neighboring rooms. The pale skin of his ass transforms to red, and I rub my palm across it soothingly.

           “O-One,” Spencer says through gritted teeth as he rocks his hips against my legs.

           “You okay, baby?”

           “Y-Yes, Miss. Please don’t stop. I deserve it. P-Punish me, please.”

           My palm comes down across his ass four more times, and with each strike I watch Spencer fall apart right before my eyes. Tears are gliding down his flushed cheeks, and his cock is now painfully hard against my legs.

           “Five more to go, baby. Keep counting for me, my pretty boy.”

           By the time my hand comes down against his flesh for the final time, Spencer has devolved into a mess of pathetic whimpers. His cock is smearing precum across my thighs as he rocks against me, and his ass is covered in a litany of bright red marks. Incomprehensible pleas are falling from his lips, and his hands are tightly fisted in the sheets.

           I lean forward and place a gentle kiss to each of his battered cheeks.

           “T-Thank you, Miss. Thank you, thank you, thank you…”

           “You’re welcome, baby. Can you go lay in the center of the bed for me?”

           Spencer gives a feeble nod and crawls to the center of the bed, carefully laying himself down and letting out a low hiss when his ass came in contact with the mattress.

           I let him rest against the sheets before I roll over and settle in between his legs.

           Spencer’s cock, painfully hard and leaking precum, sits against his belly. Spencer watches as I trace lithe fingers up his thigh, his chest rising and falling quickly as I get closer to where he demands my attention.

           A garbled groan rips from his throat when my hand grasps his cock, and I have to place my other hand on his hip and force him back down onto the bed when he tries to buck up.

           “Stay still, baby,” I tut as I drag my fist up and down at an agonizingly slow pace.

           “S-Sorry, M-Miss,” Spencer stutters. His brows are drawn together and his eyes are heavy lidded. “Need m-more, please.”

           “Mm, I don’t think you need more. You just want more. Dumb little greedy baby,” I tease as my thumb swipes across his head.

           “Oh… G-God, please!” Spencer mewls.

           “Is what I’m giving you not good enough?”

           “N-No, it’s just-”

           I raise an eyebrow at him and halt my movements.

           “No, it isn’t good enough?”

           Spencer lets out a frustrated groan and his fists clench the sheets.

           “P-Please, Miss! I’ll be your good boy, I promise. Just let me cum, please, I want it so bad!”

           Thoroughly pleased by his shameless begging, I start moving my hand again.

           “Let me know when you’re about to cum, baby.”

           That moment comes when, not thirty seconds later, the muscles in Spencer’s abdomen start to spasm – telltale signs of an impending orgasm. Spencer is so lost in the way my hand is moving against his cock that he makes no move to warn me, and just as I see his eyes start to flutter shut, I withdraw my hand.

           “W-Why did yo-”

           “You didn’t tell me you were about to cum. I thought you said you were going to be a good boy, Spencer? You sure aren’t acting like someone who wants to cum.”

           “S-Sorry, please, just… fuck!”

           Spencer’s whole-body folds in on itself when my mouth wraps around the head of his cock. I swirl my tongue around the tip, lapping up the precum that had gathered before I pull away.

           “You’ve got such a pretty cock, baby. Can’t believe nobody’s had you in their mouth yet,” I murmur, pausing to drag my tongue along the veiny underside of his erection. “Let me hear you, baby. Wanna know how much you like when I use my mouth on you.”

           “Love it so much, oh God… Feels so warm and wet. Thank you so much, Miss. God, it feels perfect,” Spencer keens as I take him into my mouth again. Mumbled praises fall from his lips as I take him deeper, and the second my nose hits the soft skin of his belly, Spencer’s hand comes up and begins to tap incessantly on my shoulder.

           “S-Stop! I-I’m close – Jesus Christ, I’m so fucking close and I really want to cum inside you, i-if that’s okay with you,” Spencer babbles, eyes wide and pleading. I smile up at him.

           “Do you think you deserve to cum in my pussy?”

           “H-Honestly, no, but I’m hoping you’ll let me anyways,” Spencer says, shooting me an adorably shy smile that has my heart doing somersaults in my chest. I let out a light laugh and shake my head, moving to straddle his lap.

           “Are you sure you want to do this, Spence?” I murmur as I caress the side of his face with my hands. “This can stop right here, if you want it to.”

           “Please, Miss. I want this. I want you,” Spencer reiterates, eyes shining and filled to the brim with adoration.

           “Want you, too, baby. You can call me my name now, if you want,” I say as I place a gentle kiss on his lips. I move to pull away, but Spencer’s hand is quick to grasp the back of my neck and pull me back in.

           While our lips move together, frenzied and desperate, I sneak a hand in between our bodies and grab Spencer’s cock. He gasps into my mouth as I drag his head in between my folds.

           “I-I won’t last long,” Spencer chokes out, eyes trained on where I’m rubbing him against me. “I’ll try my b-best, but I’m sorry if I c-cum too fast.”

           I sink down just enough that his head is the only thing inside me, watching as his face contorts beautifully as a result.

           “Don’t worry about me, baby. Tonight’s all about you.”

           With one last, chaste kiss to his lips, I slowly begin to lower myself down onto his length. The sound of our moans fill the room as Spencer clings desperately to me, hands finally finding purchase on my hips.

           “Y/N, fuck, you feel so good,” Spencer whimpers as I begin to slowly rock against him. “I-I knew it would feel good, but oh my God. I-I can’t… I’m gonna cum, soon. M’so sorry.”

           His admission prompts me to move faster, raising my hips until he’s almost completely out of me before I’m slamming back down.

           “Spence, you feel so good. Such a good boy – my good boy.”

           “Yes, yes, I’m all yours! Only yours, please!” Spencer whines. I lean forward, and the change of angle is enough for both of us to cry out.

           “Are you gonna be a good boy and cum for me, Spence?” I murmur into his ear, biting lightly against his earlobe. “I want you to cum in me, baby. Don’t you want to be my good boy?” I punctuate my words by lightly wrapping my hand around this throat and squeezing, and that’s all it takes for Spencer to completely fall apart underneath me. 

           “Y/N - fuck!”

           Spencer’s grip on my hips tightens as he bucks up into me, painting the inside of my pussy with his cum as he yells out strangled exclamations of my name. He presses his face into my shoulder as I ride him through his orgasm, whispering quiet thank yous and pressing open mouthed kisses to my skin as the euphoria floods through his body.

             I place a kiss to his forehead before I crawl off of him, having every intention of getting up and procuring a wet washrag. But Spencer reaches out to grip my arm, and his eyes look so sad that I stop in my tracks.

           “C-Can you stay? Please?”

           The insecurity in his voice tugs at my heart.

           “Of course, I’m staying. Was just gonna get a wet washrag for us. M’not gonna leave you, Spence,” I murmur. Spencer visibly untenses, but his grip on my arm doesn’t lessen.

           “Could you just stay here a little bit longer?”

           “Sure thing, baby,” I say, prompting Spencer’s lips to pull up into a pleased smile. I crawl back into the bed and lay on my back, and Spencer instantly plasters himself to my side. He hums contentedly as he wraps his arms around me, and I let out a light laugh when I catch him stealing glances at me.

           “What is it, baby?”

           A rosy blush spreads across his cheeks.

           “Can I kiss you?”

           After everything we just did, he still feels the need to ask permission to kiss me. What a sweet boy.

           My answer comes in the form of me pressing my lips to his, and that’s how we stay until he pulls away.

           “I have another question,” he says shyly.

           “Lay it on me, baby.”

           The blush on his cheeks gets significantly more pronounced.

           “It’s just that, uh, you didn’t get to cum again. And I really want you to, because you took such good care of me,” Spencer pauses, and his fingertips lightly graze the inside of my thigh. “C-Could I please eat you out again?” Another pause, and he retracts his hand. “I-It’s okay if not. I understand if you just wanted this to be… a one-time thing. I guess I was just kind of hoping that it w-wouldn’t be. But that’s silly – you were just doing me a favor. I’m sorry I asked.”

           Spencer cringes as he finishes speaking, not even giving me a chance to reply before he’s trying to pull away. I tighten my grip on his arm, and Spencer gives me a weary look.

           “First of all, I don’t think I would ever say no to being eaten out – especially if you’re the one offering. Second, this is definitely not a one off. I have lots of plans for you, pretty boy,” I explain, and the relief that radiates off of Spencer is almost palpable.

           “Thank God,” he sighs, and then he’s scooting down the bed and settling in between my legs.

--

           And if the rest of the team notices the way Spencer starts following me around like a lost puppy - well, they’re all kind enough not to point it out.

[slytherweasley]

Chance (Sirius Black x reader)

Warnings: none

Summary: Sirius has been pining over y/n since third year, he decides it’s time for him to ask you on a date in your sixth year but finds it’s not as easy as he thinks.

You sit with Lily’s group of friends at breakfast though you may as well have been alone, Lily sat in the middle while you sat two people away from her. Her friends are not your friends too, you tried to become friends with them but they talk so much and move on to the next topic of conversation before you can get a word in.

You sit there checking your watch, every minute feels like ten. You look around at everyone and see Sirius looking at you, he doesn’t look away from you even though he was caught. Instead he winks at you, you look away looking uninterested trying your hardest not to blush.

Sirius is a flirt, he’s been flirting with you since third year, it’s all a game to him which he knows makes you nervous. It wouldn’t make you as nervous as it does if you didn’t actually fancy him.

You walk into transfiguration and sit down in your usual seat waiting for Professor McGonagal to walk in. Lily walks over to your desk, you look up from your book. “Hey Lily” “You left pretty quick this morning” “Yeah sorry.”

At the back of the classroom Sirius brags about how he’s going to finally ask you out this year.

“Leave her alone Sirius” Remus says “Don’t worry she fancies me” “It’s been three years, she doesn’t fancy you” James says. “I’ve just not been forward enough” he says “You have, you annoy her daily, if she wasn’t so polite she’d probably tell you to piss off by now” James says.

“The way she looks at me, I can tell she does fancy me, she enjoys my attention” he draws his attention to you and Lily talking, as he watches he comes up with an idea.

Between classes Sirius sifts his eyes through the crowd to find you, once he spots you he pushes through the crowd catching up to you. “Y/n” he says, you turn around “Hi Sirius, what can I help you with?” “Do you want to go on a date with me this weekend?” Your cheeks go red and you look away from him not replying.

“Darling? Did you hear me?” If your face wasn’t bright red already it is now “Yes” “Yes you’ll go or yes you heard me?” “I heard you.” “So what do you think? We could go to Hogsmeade or whatever you want” you can never tell if it’s a joke or he is serious.

“Sirius I’m confused” “Confused? What can I clear up for you, darling?” “Is this a joke?” “I’m not joking, I genuinely want to give you a nice day, you don’t have to date me or anything, I’m just asking give me one chance and if you’re not into me, I’ll leave you alone.”

He seemed genuinely eager “uh ok then, I’ll go” you say unsure half expecting him to laugh. “You will?” “yeah” “thank you so much y/n” you get to your classroom “I will see you this weekend then” you say before walking into class.

Sirius doesn’t bother with being on time to class, he has to tell the others he actually got you to agree. He finds James, Remus and Peter “She said yes!” He exclaims “Mate, you can’t lie” Peter says “I’m serious, she is going to Hogsmeade with me this weekend” “I’m surprised” James says “You didn’t force her to did you?” Remus asks “No!” He says defensively.

Sirius had been extra happy all week and impatient for the weekend. The morning of your date he woke up early showered and spent a long time picking out an outfit and doing his hair. “She already agreed, I’m sure she’s not going to care what you wear” James says “I know but I want to impress her, make sure she comes back for more.”

You also spent a while on your outfit ensuring it was meticulous. You waited at the agreed meeting spot, he was running late, each minute that ticked by you were overthinking, maybe it was a joke and he’s standing you up.

Until he comes running around the corner “I’m so sorry I’m late” he says “It’s okay, I did think you stood me up for a while there.” “No never, I was fixing my hair and time got away from me” the two of you start walking to Hogsmeade.

Your hands brush against each other, the first time you ignore it, the second time Sirius grabs your hand holding it, you press your lips together trying your hardest not to smile. You get to Hogsmeade and take a look around in the various shops.

“How about a butterbeer?” He asks “Yes please” you walk into the three broomsticks and order two butterbeers. “Are you having a nice day?” He asks hopefully “Yes, thank you Sirius” a smile appears on his face “I’m glad.”

You take a sip of butterbeer feeling suddenly comforted and relaxed. “You look really nice today Sirius” you compliment “Thanks, I put a lot of time into my choices, you look beautiful as always” “Thanks Sirius.”

As you walk back you felt so much more comfortable around Sirius than when you got there. You slide your arm around his waist getting closer to him, his arm quickly moves around your shoulder.

“So do you think a second date is on the table?” He asks carefully “Second, third, fourth, as many as you want” “Really?” He smiles “Yes, I had the best day with you” “I did too.”

You get to Hogwarts and stop as you get inside the castle to say your goodbyes. “I’ll see you around” he says “let’s hope so” “Can I kiss you before you leave?” “Yes.”

He moves his face closer to yours pressing a kiss against your lips briefly, the kiss didn’t linger too long but it was sweet.

[jaemsun00]

Nct mark + 00 line when you give them an unexpected blowjob.

This is mature, do not interact if it make you uncomfortable. Exhibitionism acts.

- MARK

It was almost midnight and Mark was still stuck at the company room at the desk, writing whatever words came to his mind. You sat a fair bit away on your own chair, spinning around tiredly. He has told you, you should go home and go to sleep but you refused to leave him alone.

“This is so fucking annoying” you heard him swear, before ripping the paper out of the book, scrunching it up and failing to chuck it in the bin right beside his feet.

Just as you were about to say something a very interesting idea came to your mind. Mark has admitted that he has been feeling very uninspired to write any of his lyrics lately. Maybe he needed something to get the inspiration back.

Slowly walking towards him, you planned it out. It was going to be simple and Mark would not dare to say no to what your thinking.

Mark snapped his head when your hand touched his shoulder softly. “Let’s do something” you smile weirdly at him and he did eyes you. “I would love to but I have to finish this by tomorrow” he motioned to his book.

“I can help you” Mark tried not to let out a laugh when you said that. It’s no secret that your not talented in that area. “To get inspiration I mean” you scoff seeing how he was hiding his laughter. “Oh yeah? How you gonna do that?”

He was oblivious to your plan which made it seem even better. Mark was taken back when you spun his chair around and slowly dropped to your knees in between his legs. “Like this” you smile up at him, seeing how he gulped when you two made eye contact. he lifted his hips for you to slip his pants down and get right to work.

- RENJUN

“It’s very pretty” you smile at the painting Renjun has been working on the past two hours. You’ve barely been awake two minutes and he was forcing you to see all the drawings he has worked on lately. “You reckon?” He took the paper back and admired it himself.

“Mmm. Now can we go to beddd” you whine, hands resting on his desk as he shook his head. Ever since you’ve woken up with no boyfriend beside you, you’ve been whining to him about it. “Go by yourself” scoffing, you stood tall over his sitting figure.

“Renjun” he hummed as a response making you a bit more mad. But why not play with him a bit. “Renjun” you try again in a more sing song voice. Your boyfriend still ignored you. Thankfully the desk he was working on was easy to get underneath, yeah you hit your head once but who cares.

Renjun was a bit weirded out with you crawling under the table, but he wasn’t expecting your hand rubbing at him through his pants. “Baby?” He groaned out, pushing his chair back to see you smiling up at him. “Your just gonna-“ “okay I’m going to bed.” You say getting up, but Renjun was faster to grab onto your wrist. “You can’t leave. You’ve started something” “if you come to bed then I’ll finish it” your smile was so cunningly that Renjun couldn’t say no and followed you back to bed.

- JENO

It was funny, seeing how normal Jeno was trying to be while talking through the headset with Haechan. But you continued your task, bopping your head up and down on his length. “Go le- fuck left” your boyfriend tried to hide his moan. Haechan must of said something back because Jeno told him to shut up.

“I kicked my toe” he lied through his clenched teeth, just as you planned you took him in your mouth fully, gagging a bit. That just made Jeno want to cry out. You’ve never done this, never have you thought you would be doing this. But here you are, on your knees and giving your boyfriend a blow job under his desk.

“Okay I’m gonna- I’m gonna go” he stuttered before quickly taking his headset off and placing it on the keyboard. His head dropped down to see you doing your task. “Fuck you look so pretty” he smiled, hands running through your messy hair, making a make shift ponytail as his hips bucked into your face. Taking you by surprise.

- HAECHAN

The only reason why you were waiting under your boyfriend desk was because of the stuff you over heard him and some of his mates talking about. How he would love to get head under the desk while he played a game on his computer.

“I’ve got food” you heard his voice before the door opened, Hacehan saw the empty bed and sighed. Thinking maybe you went home already with how long he was taking. Just as he was about to take his phone out, he saw you shift in your spot under the table.

“What are you doing?” You crawl out of the small spot, facing Haechan who looked so confused right now. “Well I was- I was going to surprise you with... with-“ you felt so stupid having to explain it. Hacehan had no clue what was going on in your mind.

“With? Scaring me?” You shake your head, god how you wished someone would come in and save you from the embarrassment your about to face. “I was going to suck you off while you played the game” you mumble but Haechan heard it all. Quickly smiling at your words.

“Oh really?” You could hear the teasing smirk he wore but you couldn’t let him see how red your cheeks have turned since admitting that. “Well what’s stopping you? Get back under” he waved his hands towards the desk and started walking towards it. “Your? Uh” you let out a nervous laugh.

“Don’t say your getting shy now, come on you said you wanted to” he smiled so innocently at you as he sat on his gaming chair, leaving a space for you to crawl back under. “The food will go cold” “who cares. I don’t want blue balls”

- JAEMIN

“What are you doing?” Jaemin laughed as your wondering hands made their way to his thighs. He was just peacefully laying on the bed, laptop propped up beside him as he watched some sort of drama. “Nothing” you lie before your hand starts going further up to his cock, rubbing lightly before he grabbed at your wrist.

“You have work soon” he warned as if that was going to stop you. You nod, trying to move your hand again. “Your going to be late if you start it up” he looked down at his pants which were loose around his waist. “And? It will be fine”

Jaemin wanted it tell you no, you had a job to do and last time you went in late your boss threatened your job. But as soon as you started peeling his pants off, the words in his mouth disappeared. But your mouth, your mouth was now full with him. Eyes never left his own as you licked his tip.

“Your- fuck that feels good” he moaned out, hands running through your hair and playing with it as you worked on him. Jaemin felt himself grow hard and big in your mouth and gosh it felt too good not to lift his hips to get more friction.

- YANGYANG

He has spoken to you about this before, how it would be amazing if you gave him head as he played a game. Being bored all day you decided today was the best time to do it. What you didn’t expect was YangYang to have his mic on.

So he would just have to be quite. You usually sat on the floor studying as he played his games. So he thought nothing of it as you moved closer to his legs. The shorts he wore giving away how he wasn’t wearing any boxers right now. He had no plans so it didn’t surprise you.

“Nah nah I work fair and square your just a bad player” you have no idea who he was insulting, nor did you care. Yangyang stopped moving when he felt you prying his shorts off. It was hard as he didn’t lift his hips, giving up on trying you just pull his member out.

“One second” YangYang spoke, muting himself before staring down at you. “What are you doing baby?” He laughed as you started moving your hand up his shaft. “Nothing much” you shrug as if you weren’t making him harder in your hands. “Turn the mic back on”

Yangyang widened his eyes at you, slowly shaking his head. “I don’t think the boys want to hear that” “just do it” your eyes tell him he should listen. So he does, clicking the mute off and getting back to his arguing members.

You licked the underside did his length before shoving him whole in your mouth. Yangyang stuttered his words as he tried to focus on playing. But it was rather hard when you were blowing him right now. “Holy fuck” he let out loudly, his members thinking maybe he died in the game.

- SHOTARO

“Please” he begged but you ignored him again, laying on his lap as he tried to push you off. “Your my personal pillow so no. I’m not moving” you whine back at him, moving your head on his lap as he just sighed, letting you win this time.

The movie he watched continued playing as you turned your head, meeting his crotch and a smirk grew on your face. Shotaro clearly didn’t know your thoughts even when you moved to your side, so your face was met right where his dick rested.

“Are you hungry?” He asked innocently, pulling out his phone so he could order. “I’m very hungry” you say sensually but your boyfriend was oblivious to it.

“What do you want? Chicken? Or-“ “you” you spit out making him laugh awkwardly. “Yeah well I’m not edible so-“ you scoff at him, hands running down his stomach, feeling how he shivered every time your hand got closer.

“Right here? Sungchan will be back soon and I’m sure he-“ “it’s fine baby we just need to be fast” Shotaro didn’t know why his dick was growing at your words. Does he want to get caught? While he was in his thoughts you were pulling him out of his briefs. Already getting started with your hand.

“We can always go into your room?” The boy shook his head, lifting his hips so he could push his pants down to his ankles. “Just let’s be fast” you smiled at his words. You always get what you want either way or another. “I’m sure we will be very fast”

[obey-only-me]

HC the Brothers When Touch Starved By: Akuzondelivery

Lucifer:

- this happens a lot to him since he can’t bring himself to admit he needs you. Plus being so busy forces him to be apart from who he wants to be touched by.

- After particularly hard day he finds himself outside your room, his feet carried him straight to you.

- You open the door before he knocks, intending to go see one of the brothers. “Lucifer?”

- Lucifer gently pulls you close and holds you tightly.

- Without a word he takes you to your bed and sits, placing you on his lap and holding you from behind.

- You gently stroke his hair and he places his face in the crook of your neck, heaving a sigh.

- With a smile you give him little praises to sooth his bad day away. Lucifer sighs and lets small moans leave him as he relaxes.

- “Thank you MC...you always know what pleases me.” He says after a while, giving you a gentle kiss. Be prepared for him to return the favor ten fold.

Mammon:

- Because he’s usually glued to your side he doesn’t feel this way as often. But when he does...

- After a long week of paying off debts to witches and getting punished by his other brothers, he was NEEDY.

- “MC! Open up!! You better be in here!” He yells while banging on your door.

- Once he’s granted permission he’ll run in and grab you tightly, nestling his face in your chest.

- Mammon will definitely stay as long as you’ll let him, he’ll even ask to sleep next to you.

- Play with his hair and rub his neck, he’ll shiver and grow a little excited.

- “MC...let me touch you too...”

- He’ll be slow and gentle, just like you were with him.

Levi:

- This time it’s YOU who has been busy. School clubs, after school activities, and of course study sessions with Satan and Asmo to get your grades up.

- Doesn’t know how to ask for you to come to him though, so he ends up sending you a text on your DDD.

- “I have an emergency! Please come to my room!”

- You shot up from your desk and made your way to his room, frantically knocking.

- When he finally answered he dragged you in and pressed you against the door to close it, holding you tightly.

- “I’m- I’m sorry but I really need you right now.” His face was bright red and his voice trembled with need

- Will insist on putting his head in your lap while he holds your waist. Making little noises in response to your touches.

- “Please don’t stop... I-I want m-more.”

Satan:

- Has been buried in student council work and literature club activities. But has noticed he hasn’t been enjoying things as usual. Doesn’t even realize what he’s feeling until someone mentions your name.

- Takes a moment to think how long it’s been since he saw you, touched you.

- After everything was finally finished he met you in the music room, sitting next to you on the couch.

- “MC...I really missed you.”

- Will nuzzle up to you and rub his face against yours. Wants to hold you as opposed to being held.

- Let’s out soft sighs as you play with his hair.

- Also loves kissing all over you to make you blush and turn warm.

- “Let’s go to my room, I’m not done teasing you yet.”

Asmo:

- Is usually getting attention from his fans and people with crushes on him, but it’s your touch he wants.

- Late one night he sneaks to your room and gently knocks, hoping you’re awake.

- When you answer he smiles and draws you close.

- “My MC! it’s been too long...”

- Unlike his brothers, kissing is the touch he needs the most.

- You two can make out for HOURS and Asmo would still want more.

- It doesn’t always turn sexual, sometimes kissing is all he wants. But when you want it to be sexual...

- “Let’s turn out the lights, I want to explore you by touch alone.”

Beel:

- Sports are essential to his lifestyle so he gets tied up with his teammates sometimes and can’t spend as much time with you as he likes.

- After a meetup one night he declined to go out with his teammates because to be frank- he needs MC time.

- Stopped by the kitchen to grab a few (ALL) snacks and surprised you in your room.

- “Beel! I thought you had a meet today?” “I did but I want to eat you tonight. I mean eat WITH you tonight!”

- The both of you turn red but soon you we’re sitting between his legs on the floor watching a movie. You held the bag of chips while he put his arms around you.

- “I’ve been eating all night but...I think what I’m craving is you.”

- Will devour you. Kisses from the avatar of gluttony are like no other. His tongue is definitely his strongest muscle.

- While you’re gasping for breath he ends up placing you on the bed to continue.

Belphie:

- Hasn’t been in a good mood since your last nap together. You’ve been so busy he hasn’t had a chance to pin you down to cuddle.

- Will also be extra mean/grumpy to his brothers until he gets your attention.

- “Belphie! What is wrong with you?” You’ll ask after having to pry Mammon from his death grip.

- Instead of answering he throws you over his shoulder and takes you to the attic room to be alone.

- Will place you on the bed and immediately wrap himself around you.

- “Im sorry- I just really need this.” He would literally beg for you if he thought he could make you stay.

- You sigh and scold him for being rude but end up cuddling him tightly.

- You’re about to fall asleep with him when he springs a few kisses on you to apologize for his behavior.