synopsis ; a sleepy morning turns into spencer falling over himself to get to work on time, forgetting his badge behind him.
includes ; spencer reid x fem!reader, kissing, getting interrupted by the bau, secret relationship
sunlight flittered through your blinds, heat radiated off your boyfriend who laid beside you, his arm draped over you as he slept peacefully. you card your fingers through his hair, unintentionally stirring him from his sleep.
“oh, i’m sorry baby” you apologise, voice soft in an attempt to keep him from waking up any further “go back to sleep.”
it was a rare day off for spencer, by your second date he’d told you he was in the bau, by your fifth you had gotten used to work tearing him away. but despite the annoyance, you had gotten used to it. you understood his job was important, you understood that evil wouldn’t take a break just so you could keep your boyfriend all to yourself.
when you asked him how personal time worked, he admitted to you that his team didn’t know he had a girlfriend. it stung a little, but when he explained that his job would be putting you at risk it softened the blow.
you’d heard the horror stories, how his boss’s wife was killed just so the unsub could get to him, about another girl who had been shot simply for being an agent.
it sucked, but you understood why, at least for now, spencer didn’t want to broadcast you all over the office.
“don’t wanna,” spencer mumbled, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder as he blinked his eyes open “don’t wanna waste my one day off.”
you couldn’t help the small smile that appeared when he said that, days off may be hard to come by but spencer made sure you were the sole focus for every second of them.
he propped himself up on his elbow, his other hand tightening its grip on your waist to pull you closer “c’mere, pretty”
his sleepy voice makes the words sound even better as you lazily wrap your arms around his neck, your fingers toying with the hair at the back of his head.
he presses a lazy kiss to your lips, which quickly spirals into something deeper. his hands grip at your waist, desperate, like he was afraid that if he loosened his grip you’d disappear.
trails of nips and kisses are dragged along your neck as he moves to hover over you, your breathing is shallow, fingers tightening in his hair as his hand slides over the surface of your stomach, fingers tracing along the hem of your underwear.
“fuck,” spencer mumbles, long fingers slipping under the fabric agonisingly slowly “you look so pretty, baby, so pretty under me.”
you let your eyes fall closed, his mouth still attached to your neck as his fingers ghosted across your skin.
until his phone rings, eliciting a frustrated groan from you both. you watch as he reluctantly reaches for it to see who’s calling. you don’t need to ask, his irate expression tells you it’s work.
“yeah?” his tone is blunt, uncharacteristically so but you can’t exactly blame him “what? no, i’m not supposed to be — right. fine.”
he doesn’t need to explain what’s going on, you already know by the way he jumps out of bed and hurriedly starts getting ready to head into work.
it’s immature, you know, but you can’t help but cross your arms in annoyance as you watch him bolt back and forth around the room.
“sorry, baby.” spencer sighs, easily reading the mixture of frustration and disappointment in your expression “i’ll make it up to you, promise.”
you hum in agreement as he presses a kiss to your forehead, promising to call you when he could before disappearing out of the room, and in turn, your apartment. you stay in bed a little longer, feeling sorry for yourself and worrying about your boyfriend at the same time.
the floor is a mess, both yours and spencer’s clothes strewn around as well as decorative pillows and comforters. as you begin picking clothes up from the floor, your eyes fall on a small, rectangular piece of leather hidden under a pair of socks.
spencer’s badge.
you gnaw on your bottom lip, conflicted on what to do. by now spencer would already be at the office, calling him to come back would cut important time from his schedule. but without it he’d be in trouble.
you needed to bring it to him without airing his personal business to the entire building, which is how you ended up signing in as a visitor who was here to meet with agent derek morgan.
the only name you heard from spencer that you could remember confidently.
a serious looking woman showed you the way to the bau office, your fingers nervously drumming on the leather cover of the badge as you headed up the elevator.
all hope was lost once you stepped out, two glass doors showcasing the expanse of the office filled with people shoulder deep in whatever they were working on.
you look around the hallway like a deer in headlights, unsure if you could just walk in or if you could just give the badge to someone else to pass on to spencer.
“you okay!?” a cheerful blonde approaches you, seemingly from nowhere. arms stacked with files and carrying a coffee cup at the same time.
“uh,” you’d feel guilty adding to her workload “do you need a hand?”
mentally you face palm, cursing yourself for your lack of social skills in the simplest of situations.
“please!” the woman gasps, the ceramic mug wobbling in her hand “hotch is going to kill me if i spill coffee all over his case. i already told him ‘mister hotch sir, it would be easier to go digital’ but nooo.”
you laugh softly, taking the mug from her unstable hand and tugging open the door for her.
surely you could enter with someone who was actually allowed in the office.
“follow me!”
she’s speeding ahead, a woman on a mission, up the steps and into what seems like a conference room. you trail behind apprehensively, not wanting to get either of you into trouble by just swanning in.
“if there’s any dismembered bodies or general badness on the screen i swear to god!” she warns, rounding a corner and disappearing into the room.
you hang back awkwardly, partly because you have no business in there but mostly just in case there was any dismembered people on display.
“you’re all good!” her head pops around the corner and she motions for you to come in, so you do.
there’s barely time to register your surroundings, a circular table with a group of people sitting around it. you spot spencer instantly, you don’t even attempt to guess who everyone else is.
his head is buried in a case file, so your presence is unknown to him. which isn’t a surprise considering you’re not meant to be in the building let alone the office.
“garcia, we talked about this.”
a stern voice comes from a tall, serious looking man. you didn’t need to be a genius to work out he was most definitely spencers boss.
“right.” the woman, garcia, presses her mouth into a thin line as she gently takes the mug from your hands “do you know where you’re meant to be, lovely?”
“oh, uh, here actually.”
as you retrieve the badge from your back pocket, spencers head snaps up at the sound of your voice. his eyes widen slightly and a small smile makes its way onto his face.
“hey, what are you doing here?”
his question catches you off guard, even more so when he gets to his feet and moves around the table towards you.
wordlessly, you hand over his id, the perfectly rehearsed excuse of finding it at a cafe stuck in your throat now that spencer had made it known you weren’t a stranger.
“how did i — thank you.” his smile widens slightly, his hand resting on your waist briefly as he pressed a thankful kiss to your temple “i’ll call you on the plane, okay?”
you knew he wasn’t trying to brush you off, but he was evidently busy and you had no actual reason to still be here.
you nod, face warming up when he gives you another quick kiss before you go, sending a tiny smile and a brief wave towards the rest of the team.
as you gently shut the door behind you, you aren’t quick enough to miss the questions thrown in spencers direction. even laughing softly at garcias exclamation of “spencer has a girlfriend!”
exclusive tutorial
✧.* zayne x reader
✧.* 4.5k words
✧.* friends to lovers
summary: you ask zayne to teach you how to kiss
warnings!: messy kissing, dry humping, fingering, zayne cums in his pants lol, touch starved!zayne
note: this came to me in a dream. im kidding. im just horny for pathetic zayne
note2: part 2 is here
divider cred. @enchanthings-a
Zayne is in his office reviewing a recent surgery when you come barging into his office one Friday afternoon.
Windswept and pink-cheeked, you look radiant and it takes a few moments of blinking away the lingering text printed on his vision for him to realise you’re speaking.
“Did you hear me?” You sound…nervous, almost, which is out of character for someone who routinely interrupts his working day to sit in his office and drop bagel crumbs all over his carpet. Your eyes drift around the room, flying over his features for a beat before you’re looking away again, and it’s intoxicating, for some reason, to see you shy around him. Usually he’s the one who’s hesitant, too weary to blur the line between your friendship and the depraved, desperate thoughts he has about you when he’s alone in his apartment.
There’s a well-buried part of Zayne that chooses to file away that coy expression on your face for such a moment.
Glancing back to the screen of his computer, he continues typing, correctly assuming you will fall into your regular pattern and plop yourself on his desk any moment now.
It takes you three seconds to do exactly that as he speaks, “No, I didn’t. It’s almost as if I’m working right now,”
One of his favourite things to do is tease you, to have your nose scrunch in annoyance when he plays dumb on purpose, or when he pretends he doesn’t want you around. The secret he keeps locked up tight is that he wants you near him all the time, his hands itch with it. He notices you stick your tongue out at him from the corner of his eye, and he has to suppress the twitch of his lips. You’re back to your old self for only a moment before you seem to remember what it is you wanted to ask him.
“I have a date,”
It’s not a question, though it doesn’t really matter. The corner of Zayne’s brain that, eons ago, would have demanded he hammer his fists on his chest or pee on the desk to assert dominance takes over for a millisecond as he files through a dozen different scenarios which all seem wildly inappropriate for the news he’s just received. As usual, he manages to tame his base urges when it comes to you, and he nods, calm and cool as a cucumber.
Of course, this isn’t the first time you’ve dated. Zayne has known you since he was eight, and you were six. It’s not like he hasn’t witnessed this before; for a long time the concept of you with other boys never bothered him. At least not until the two of you hit puberty and he started taking note of all the ways in which you were different; softer, sweeter, prettier. Since then, it’s been a part of your friendship he likes to ignore.
Except when you force him to confront it, that is.
“Very good,” He speaks around a sudden tightness in his throat, feigning sarcasm if only to distract by the sudden grip of panic on his chest, “I’m thrilled you decided to come to my place of work to inform me,”
“Zayne,” The way you whine his name has his thighs tensing under the desk, and he really wishes you wouldn’t do that. He mentally files that away for later too.
He sighs softly, taking his hands away from the keyboard and turning his body just enough so that you know you have his complete attention. As if you don’t have it all the time anyway.
“What is it?”
“I have a date,”
His hand clenches, “I heard,”
Inhaling deeply, you let out a breath like you’re about to confess something. The soft, pink flush on your cheeks deepens slightly and you start doing that thing again where you look anywhere but at him, “I wanted to ask if you would help me with something,”
“Anything,” He says, because it’s true. He almost wants to wince at how desperate to please you he is, but as usual, he stays neutral.
“I…ahh,” You bite your lip, and another year is shaved off of Zayne’s life, “I wanted to ask if you would teach me…hosjskkss,”
He frowns as you trail off, speaking the rest into your chest as you tilt your head down. Your cheeks are glowing pink now.
“What was that?”
“Teachmehowtokiss,” You respond, lifting your head slightly but still refusing to look at him, not that it matters. Zayne is convinced his physical form no longer exists and he’s now a pile of ash and glasses on the desk chair.
He swallows hard, needing the extra moisture in his mouth, speaking in the monotone of someone who’s just had a major brain injury, “You want me to teach you how to kiss,”
It takes a couple seconds, but you nod before squeaking and covering your face with your hands, speaking muffled through the sleeves of your hoodie, “I’ve never…ugh! This is so embarrassing. Maybe I should ask Caleb- “
“I’ll do it,” Zayne speaks so fast he almost leaps forward over the desk to stop the rest of that sentence from leaving your lips. He is selfish, and clearly has no regard for his own mental state, but like hell is he gonna let Caleb put his grubby paws on you.
You meet his gaze with wide, impossibly pretty eyes, and something throbs deep in Zayne’s gut. He thinks he might do just about anything to keep you looking at him like that.
“You mean it? You don’t think it’ll be…” You shrug, “weird?”
Weird is the last word Zayne would use to describe how kissing you would be, but he can’t think of any others right now, so he just shakes his head.
“It’ll be fine,” His voice is scratchy, and he clears it twice, just to have the words coming out sounding the same, “I get off work at seven. You can come over, or we could…”
He’s unsure where exactly you want to do this, but the prospect of kissing you in his office and then driving home with his cock hard as steel sounds unappealing.
“I’ll come over,” You say, voice a little dazed and your cheeks still pink, “see you later, Zayne,”
There’s a good few seconds between when you knock on Zayne’s door to when he opens it that you’re almost positive you’ve made a mistake.
Because really, what were you thinking? Second only to Caleb, Zayne is your oldest friend, and now you’re probably going to implode the friendship by locking lips with him. Of course, there’s no guarantee that you’ll have to actually kiss him to learn how to kiss, but it’s implied. And the implication is enough to have your stomach in knots.
Maybe Caleb would have been the better choice; a little more laid back, less likely to make a big deal out of the whole thing. Not that Zayne would hold it over you, or anything. The reason you’d asked him, stupidly, was because he’s a doctor. He’s good at removing emotions from certain situations. As if that matters at all…you swear it made sense in your head at the time, but now as Zayne swings open the door wearing a grey sweater and black sweatpants, you wonder if running is an option.
“Hey,” He says, his expression giving nothing away about whether or not he feels as awkward as you do. Sweat gathers at the base of your spine as you step inside, unconsciously inhaling that expensive cologne he wears; woodsy and addictive. He smells like a hot, rich man - which he is. Rich, anyway.
You’ve never really thought of Zayne as hot, more…devastatingly handsome. The kind of handsome that makes you think of princes in fairy tales, or the hot guys you see in k-dramas or something.
He closes the door and stands in the entryway, watching you from behind his glasses with a slight tilt to his head, “You okay?”
“Great. Never better,” You sound like an idiot, and you sweat again when Zayne’s lips tip up into a soft smile, his eyes getting that far away, dreamy look that makes you feel like a teenager around her crush.
Which obviously you’re not…you don’t have a crush, and you’re twenty-five.
Twenty-five and yet you still don’t know how to kiss.
Zayne takes your jacket, and like usual, you sit on the sofa, pulling your legs under you as you watch him move around the kitchen. He opens a cabinet, pulls out two glasses and brings them over, along with your usual bottle of wine. It’s tradition, routine, almost, and yet it makes you feel warm. Your stomach dips as he strolls over, so…big.
How had you never noticed how large he was? Sure, you noticed but you’ve never noticed. His build is large and yet he doesn’t appear bulky beneath his sweater, his collarbones jut just above the neckline and for an insane moment, your fingers tingle with the urge to touch them.
You stuff your hands beneath your thigh and keep them sandwiched there, unsure what to do with them for the time being.
“Do you want to watch a movie?” Zayne asks, his voice soft as if always is, and for a second you forget all about the kissing lesson and just enjoy the company of your friend.
“Um, sure,”
He shifts a little, lips downturned before his eyes dart away, “Unless you wanted to get straight to the- “
“The movie is good for now,” You smile probably a little too widely at him, and you wonder if you look insane.
He levels you with a look, as if he sees through you, and it makes you want to squirm under his gaze, “We don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with, ___,”
He looks away before you do, moving to pour you a glass of red wine and you take it eagerly, as if it’s a lifeline. Surely after a glass you’ll feel a little less…like this. Jittery, achy, sweaty - as if there’s a thousand little feathers brushing your skin every time he glances your way.
This has never happened before, this awkward energy. With Zayne you’ve always felt safe, relaxed, and you never had to worry about whether or not your hair looks good, or if you have spinach in your teeth. He has always been a comfort blanket for you, but now with the thoughts of kissing on your mind, you can’t seem to relax. Your brain files through all the scenarios it can generate; will he kiss you soft? Slow? Will he put his hands on your face, or your waist, or in your hair? What does he normally do when he kisses women?
“When is the date?” Zayne asks, not looking at you and instead focusing on the tv, trying to find something mindless for the two of you to watch before you begin. His voice sounds scratchy, as if he’s coming down with something, but you get distracted once the movie starts and he sits back against the sofa, turning to look at you with an unreadable expression.
“Tomorrow night,” You reply. It’s a co-worker who asked you, a nice, good-looking guy who works in the office above yours. He offered to take you for food and it’s been so long since you dated, Simone convinced you to say yes, “We’re just getting food,”
Zayne nods, though he doesn’t look away, “So you’re already planning to kiss him? He must be quite the catch,” That odd look is still there in the depths of his eyes - moss green with a hint of amber.
“Wh- uh, yeah. Maybe, I don’t know,” You shrug, looking down into your wine, “I just think that it’s kinda embarrassing that I haven’t kissed anyone yet,”
“Nothing about you is embarrassing,” He replies so fast it catches you off guard, and when you glance up at him, the tips of his ears have gone pink. There’s a tension in his shoulders as he looks at you, almost easy to miss if you didn’t know him so well.
The two of you sink into a comfortable silence after that, both watching the movie and laughing when the girl on the plane starts insulting the air steward. After a while you’ve relaxed somewhat, only one glass into the wine, you’re back to your factory settings, awkwardness gone as you slouch into the sofa, your shoulder pressed against Zayne’s.
It’s when the character on the screen kisses the love interest before the credits roll that you remember why you came. You lift your head from where it had fallen against the sofa and you turn to find Zayne already looking at you, that strange look on his face again. Your lips roll inward as you look at him, your eyes flitting unwillingly from his mouth and back again twice before you look away, embarrassed.
Zayne’s hand reaches out to grasp yours, and his voice is rumbly and warm when he speaks, “Do you want to go?”
“No,” You swing your head around to face him, almost too fast, “I…ah, I’m just nervous,”
He keeps watching you for a moment longer before he shifts, turning so he’s facing you fully on the sofa, “It’s only me,”
“Yeah, but I’ve never kissed you,”
“You said you’ve never kissed anyone,” He tilts his head again, “Why don’t you take the lead? I’ll stay here like this,”
He remains still, not rigid, but relaxed. More relaxed than you feel as you mimic his posture, turning so you’re fully facing him. He’s backlit by the floor-to-ceiling windows, the golden summer sunset, and you feel an unfamiliar dip in your stomach again.
He’s watching you, cheeks a little rosy from the wine, and his lips are stained to match. You linger on them for a moment, licking the red wine taste off your own and wondering briefly if he will taste like you. You must be taking too long, because he shifts again, and a pillow finds its way into his lap. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide, and you feel as if you’re exposed.
The way Zayne is looking at you is nothing like any of the other times you’ve noticed him staring; his jaw is tense, eyes darting all over your face, he almost looks quietly angry, but you know that can’t be it.
“____?”
“Sorry,” You exhale softly, shuffling so you’re on your knees. It’s better this way - now you’re eye-to-eye with Zayne, though it makes that feeling in your stomach even worse.
Before you can think otherwise, you place your hands on his shoulders, briefly noting the way they tense and then relax. You mean to lean forward, but Zayne’s eyes have you feeling like a mouse caught in a trap
“Can you close your eyes?” You ask, and his lips twitch, but he does as you ask, his eyes sliding closed. His black lashes fan along his cheekbones, and you almost want to sigh wistfully - he really is handsome.
The second attempt is more successful without Zayne’s intense gaze, and you lean toward him, moving until your noses bump together and Zayne exhales softly against your lips.
There’s a sharp, warm press in your lower stomach, as if your body is just now realising what you’re doing. The feel of Zayne’s soft breaths against your lips is maddening; you’re hot all over, and it’s sudden, out of nowhere. The hands on his shoulder’s clench as your fingers dig in, and before you can chicken out, you’re pressing your lips to his.
He is going to explode, or come, either way it’s taking every ounce of restraint Zayne has to let you take the lead, to get used to him and this new, terrifying step in your friendship. His stomach drops like he’s on a rollercoaster, hands clenched over the pillow hiding his obvious erection that reared its head the moment he saw your pupils dilate.
Your lips are soft, warm as you press gently against him. He wishes kissing with his eyes open was socially acceptable because he hates that he can’t see you, that he can’t get a front row seat of you on his couch, hands gripping his shoulders, lips against his. For a long moment, you don’t move, you just stay like this, and Zayne can’t bring himself to complain. But, you tilt your head slightly, pushing your lips against his harder, and he feels his cock twitch impatiently.
Inexperience isn’t usually something that turns him on - frankly, the idea of deflowering someone has him coming out in a rash. It’s not that he thinks he’s bad at kissing, or sex, but the expectations put upon him are dizzying. He wants to make this kiss good for you, even while an animal part of him thrashes against its restraints, begging him to ruin you for any other man. His hands fist against the pillow in his crotch, and when you pull away, he almost groans at the loss of contact.
Zayne is the first to open his eyes, just a second before you, but it’s enough. Your lips aren’t well-kissed, not by his standards, but he can spot the signs of arousal a mile away. Your cheeks are flushed a gorgeous shade of pink, your lips even deeper, and when you let your tongue dart out to wet them just before opening your eyes, he feels a sharp punch of need deep in his stomach.
You exhale shakily against his lips, and he can feel his restraint fraying at the seams. He wants you so badly he feels as if he could come just from the way you’re gazing blearily at his lips, as if you’re drunk on him. It’s a maddening rush to his ego, to see you so undone after barely kissing him, and he can’t stop himself from lifting a hand, cupping your chin and brushing his thumb along your lower lip.
“Was that okay?” You ask him, voice thick with something he is too chicken-shit to name, for fear that he will actually pick you up and fuck you into his couch.
He swallows hard, licking the taste of your lip balm off his lips, “Y-yeah. It was,”
This is it, he thinks, this is all you wanted from him, and it’s more than enough. More than he ever expected when it came to you. Even a chaste, soft kiss is enough to give him material to jerk off to for the rest of the year like the desperate man you’ve turned him into. But the tender, hesitancy of the moment lasts only a few seconds before you speak again, obliterating his final shred of sanity.
“Can we do it again?”
He should say no. You have a date planned, you’re his best friend in the whole world, and he made peace long ago with the fact he was destined to want you from afar. The unrequited nature of his feelings and his desires have always been somewhat safe for him, something he can use to control himself around you, but to hear you ask him for more of his lips on yours awakens something hot and vicious in his gut.
He doesn’t really reply, too dumbstruck to speak, and you gaze up at him with dark eyes, dangerously eager eyes, your voice barely above a whisper, “Will you kiss me this time? Like you do with other women?”
The mere thought of it has the tip of his cock growing slick, need curling in his stomach, worming its way around the base of his spine as he tenses. But, he’s not as strong as he thought he was, because within two seconds he’s nodding, leaning in and groaning all in one breath, his lips catching yours in a real kiss. Your hands fist the material of his sweater, tugging him closer, and he loses it, brain splattered against his skull. Now, there is only you and him and this pulsing desire he has to tuck you against his body and make you feel just how bad he’s wanted you.
His hands find your soft waist, palming the dip and clutching hard enough for your t-shirt to rise up a little. The sliver of skin brushing against his pinky does insane things to his psyche, and he pulls you, knocking away the pillow in his lap and pressing you there instead. You gasp into his mouth and he wants to snarl into the kiss, wants to make you understand.
Do you feel how bad I need you? Can you feel how hot and hard and aching I am?
Your body is like heaven in his arms, and he suddenly realises he could die happy now, knowing intimately how the weight of you feels in his lap, pressing against his cock, knees on either side of his hips. A soft moan against his lips has him bucking up against you, thankful for your choice to wear a skirt so he has access to the warmest, wettest part of you instantly. He yearns, needs and wants like he’s never wanted anything. He wants to rake his nails up your thighs, push aside your underwear and run his fingers through the mess he hopes he’ll find there. The mess he put there, he realises, and he growls into the kiss at the thought.
“Zayne,” You whimper, whining like you did earlier in his office, and he can’t help but smile at the sound. He’s fucked his own hand to your voice more times than he wants to admit, and now he leaks against his sweatpants, drunk on the way you’re babbling in his arms, your lips wet from his spit and is tongue as it laves them, eagerly asking entrance into your mouth.
“Open for me, beautiful. Open your mouth for me,” Zayne’s voice is almost unrecognisable to his own ears, a soft, firm rumble. When you do as he asks, he lets his hands drift down to your hips, pushing and pulling you along the ridge in his pants as his tongue brushes yours.
It’s messy, and you’re not sure what you’re doing, that much is evident, but it doesn’t even matter. He wants every inch of you messy over him, wants to keep this lesson going until you leave his apartment with the knowledge of how Zayne kisses you, and no one else. He wants you to be as gone for him as he is for you, as he always has been.
You’re lost on him now, hips moving of their own accord, and Zayne thinks that if he can make you come, he will take that as his greatest accomplishment in life. Forget med school, forget every surgery he completed that others failed. All he cares about is the sounds falling from your lips, the way your fingers have threaded through his hair, the fact his apartment is filled with the sounds of your kisses, of your panting breaths, his deep groans as you rock against him. Nothing else matters.
His name falls from your lips again, like you’re asking for something, but you don’t know what. He pulls away from your slick, swollen lips only to run his tongue up your neck, relishing in the way you tremble against him.
“What is it, ___? What do you need?” He rasps against your ear, “You need me to make you come?”
You nod eagerly, clutching him tight enough that he feels flames roaring up his spine. He isn’t gonna last much longer with you riding him like this, and like hell is he gonna come without taking care of you first.
“Okay,” He breathes, winded and totally out of his depth. He’s never lost control like this, never had his hands shake with it, but he takes a deep, steadying breath, “Okay,”
His hand brushes your thigh and you sigh, the sound falling into a moan as you continue to roll your hips in circles, so hard that Zayne’s eyes roll back before he grips your skin, pushing up your skirt until he finds the spot he wants. You gasp, breath ragged where you kiss and lick his jaw, and he groans deep in his throat when he finds just what he’d hoped for.
“So fucking wet,” He murmurs, dazed and drunk off of you, “You got this wet from me kissing you, huh?” He knows damn well he was doing more than just kiss you, but he doesn’t correct himself. Instead, he palms your damp underwear, pressing against the material so he can feel the contours of your pussy. He uses his fingers to push the material aside, mouth watering when he drags his fingers through the center of you, “God, fuck,”
“Please,” You whisper, “Please, please -”
“Shh, beautiful,” He presses a soft kiss to the juncture where your neck meets your shoulder, a polar opposite to the kisses he’d given you a moment ago, “I’ve got you, okay? Does it hurt?” He doesn’t know why he asks, maybe because he’s so hard beneath you that he’s beginning to see double.
“So bad,” You sob into his shoulder, rocking your hips against his fingers as he continues to explore you, avoiding the spot where you need him and just enjoying the wet, silky, warmth of you. When you whisper again, so soft he barely hears you begging him, he smiles, out of his mind with it. He wants you to beg, and so he fucks his fingers into your soft, pliant pussy until you cry out. “Oh, god! Oh, please, please - t-there, yes. Yes -”
“Holy fuck,” He murmurs as you tighten up on him, squeezing so hard he can hear the wet squelch as he attempts to carry on thrusting his middle and ring fingers into you, eager to feel it. He blearily wonders what you would feel like coming on his cock before he loses the battle against his oncoming orgasm, coming wetly against the material of his sweatpants. “Oh fuck, shit,”
You’re still shaking when he pulls his fingers out of you, your head laying on his shoulder. He hadn’t noticed the room get darker as the sun finally set, but now the two of you are alone in the glow of the tv, still stuck and waiting on the netflix homepage. The only sound in the room is your collective breathing, soft pants as you catch your breaths.
Zayne’s mind clears once the cloud of lust dissipates, and he feels a cold stab of fear deep in the centre of his chest. He’s ruined it, he thinks, he’s lost you forever. You’re going to leave and it’s going to be awkward, and why couldn’t he just keep his damn hands off of you -
“Zayne?” You whisper, breath ghosting over his collarbones.
He audibly swallows, closing his eyes in preparation for the words. We shouldn’t have done that, this was a mistake…
“Yes?”
You shuffle against him, like maybe your foot is falling to sleep in the awkward position you’re in, but you make no effort to move. When you do speak, your voice is shy, if a little hoarse, but oh, so sweet.
“You’re a really good kisser,”
The cold icy dread Zayne had been waiting in cracks, and warm seeps in. He huffs a laugh, wrapping his arms around you and pressing his lips to your hair.
Content: tooth-rotting fluff, over-analyzing!Caleb who notices even the slightest thing that might bother you
A/N: this all kinda happens as caleb and reader are still in the early days of rekindling their relationship, so there’s still that tension and will they/won’t they energy between them
Read on AO3 here
Even though you’ve turned Caleb down plenty of times about moving to Skyhaven to live with him, he stops at nothing to make sure his home is a place of comfort whenever you visit. He’ll do anything to know that you look forward to relaxing in his home. The home he’d readily share with you, if only you’d quit your dangerous pesky job in Linkon and spend the rest of your life in the safety of his arms instead.
That’s why he spends your first few visits watching you like a hawk, taking note of anything about his house that needs changing to better accommodate your habits.
Caleb’s jaw ticks in frustration at himself as you struggle to balance your takeout, the small box of noodles perched precariously on your lap while you sit beside him on his living room couch. The two of you are supposed to be spending a lazy night in, watching cheesy movies while he treats you to your favorite comfort food from down the street.
But now, Caleb’s eyes are only glued to you as he silently berates himself for getting a useless coffee table that’s too low to eat comfortably on. He’s so used to skipping meals or eating in his office at the fleet when you’re not around, so he never cared about the lack of a dining table in his house. Until now.
He immediately decides he needs to get you both a proper place to eat meals together, even on the days you want to be lazy in front of the TV. The next day, he makes an extensive list of all the important pieces of furniture he’s missing to make this place a real home for you. That includes a brand new dining table to go beside his kitchen island, and a few folding tables for when you still want to eat on the couch.
And while he’s at it, he buys a new couch to replace the current one. There’s nothing necessarily wrong with what he has now, but he wants the cushions to be softer for you. He wants you to sink into the sofa with a happy sigh whenever you fall asleep with your head in his lap.
Speaking of sleep, Caleb is far too satisfied with the fact you claimed his bedroom as your own from the moment you first came to Skyhaven. He doesn’t mind at all that he has to temporarily relocate to one of the guest bedrooms every time you come over. He knows he could just permanently move his stuff over to one of the other rooms. But Caleb likes knowing his bedroom is also yours now. And he enjoys going back to the bed you slept in once you’ve returned to Linkon.
He takes pride in catching the faint traces of your scent—a hint of your sweat mixed with the fresh smell of your favorite shampoo and laundry detergent—still lingering on his bedsheets. He revels in knowing you feel most safe and comfortable in his bed, surrounded by his scattered belongings. He wants you to take over his space and drown in his presence the same way he takes greedy gulps of yours every chance he can get.
That said, Caleb’s satisfaction quickly morphs into concern during one of your nighttime cuddle sessions together. His strong arms shield you from the outside world as you lightly snore against his chest. With a smile, he slips out of the bed, ready to let you sleep by yourself. But then he catches the soft groans that escape your parted lips. He pauses at the doorway, his head tilting in concern as you start to toss and turn restlessly in his tangled sheets.
Caleb resigns himself to another sleepless night by your side (he never seems to get any sleep when he’s in the same bed as you). He writes off your discomfort as the result of a nightmare and slides back into bed beside you in the hope it might help you rest better. But in the morning, he sees the way you rub at your neck with a frown. And he hears your breathy whimper of pain when you turn your head a certain way.
His suspicions are confirmed when he offers you a neck massage and you murmur between his firm rubs, “Hm, thanks. I think I slept weird last night.”
The next time you visit, his mattress is different. And there are now several more pillows lined up where there was once only one—sometimes accompanied by a second whenever Caleb would cuddle up beside you. Each new pillow has varying levels of firmness, giving you a range of options to choose from if you struggle to sleep comfortably. And they’re all placed neatly at the head of the bed, ready for you to fall into their soft embrace after a tiring day. Or they can be used for a spontaneous pillow fight against Caleb, in which case he always lets you win.
As for the new mattress, Caleb spent hours in the store trying every one they offered until he found the perfect bed for the type of sleeper you are. It doesn’t matter that you’re technically staying in his room every time you visit. And it doesn’t matter if he sleeps primarily on his back while you prefer your side or your stomach. He picks whatever will be best for you alone—and if you show any signs of discomfort again, he keeps buying brand new mattresses until you’re finally sleeping like a baby.
Caleb’s desperation to make his house become a home for you extends to such great lengths, not even his bathroom is safe. The first few times you stay over at Caleb’s place, you don’t think much about the layout of his bathroom. You’re usually too exhausted from work, or too distracted by your special plans together, to really care about the standard walk-in showers and minimalist aesthetic of his two bathrooms.
Whenever you come over, Caleb makes sure the bathroom adjoined to your—his—bedroom is stocked up with everything you need to take the most refreshing and luxurious showers. But after a particularly long mission one night leaves your muscles aching and your spirit drained, you find yourself mumbling, “I’d kill for a bubble bath right now.”
It’s a throwaway comment—one you make half-asleep, slumped against him on that fancy new sofa he bought for you. Honestly, you only mention it because your mind starts wandering to memories of those playful bubble baths Gran would run for you as a child. And you sleepily think Caleb will just chuckle as he’s reminded of the same memory that’s floating through your foggy head. You don’t notice the way he goes oddly silent while gently stroking your hair as you fall asleep.
When you return to Skyhaven a few weeks later, you step into his bathroom to freshen up and stop dead in your tracks. In your absence, the entire bathroom was renovated to fit a luxurious deep-soaking tub beside the preexisting shower.
It’s definitely the type of bathtub only a colonel of the Farspace Fleet could afford; you notice a sleek digital panel along the side that lets you adjust the water temperature down to the exact degree. And the swirls of water already filled in the tub give you the sneaking suspicion there are expensive whirlpool jets hiding beneath the surface.
Caleb joins you in the doorway with a proud grin, but his eyes hold a bit of uncertainty. Part of him is worried you’ll think it’s all too much. And frankly, it is too much. But you’re getting used to his grand gestures by now.
“Before you left Linkon, you mentioned you had a stressful day at work,” he says softly. “I thought a bath might help you unwind. How does that sound, pip-squeak?”
You’re still staring slack-jawed at the lavish tub, but Caleb can practically see your desire to sink into the warm water and frothy bubbles. He already left a tray across the tub’s width, holding a small bowl of grapes, your favorite drink, and a book you once mentioned in passing but hadn’t gotten around to finishing. The entire room smells faintly of your favorite bath oils—of course he already knows which scents you prefer—and there’s even a towel warmer humming softly in the corner, ready for when you’re done soaking in the tub.
You blink, slowly turning to look at Caleb while he tries very hard to appear casual. “What... is this?” you ask.
He shrugs. “A few weeks ago, you said you wanted a bubble bath.”
You scoff, your voice caught somewhere between disbelief and affection. “I didn’t mean the renovate-your-entire-bathroom kind of bath.”
Caleb only gives you that infuriatingly carefree smile of his, as if his reasoning should be obvious. As if this is definitely the normal response to a random statement you made while bone-tired in his arms.
“You’re worth the upgrade,” he says simply.
When you finally submerge yourself in the hot water with a sigh so content it makes him smile from the hallway, he quietly adds another item to his mental list of ways to keep you coming back to your home with him.
Bobby x OC - Would you fall in love with me again?
600 years ago, a yangban daughter (the daughter of a noble family) fell in love with her servant - the only man in her life who put her well being above the newly adopted Confucianist ideals.
The two were happy- truly happy.
But only for a short while.
Because of his insubordination, the servant was soon sent towards an early grave.
The young lady, frustrated by her weakness, desperate to help her beloved, struck a deal with the demon king, Gwi-ma. “Let his soul return the cycle of reincarnation. Do not consume it, not now, nor ever. In exchange, I shall pledge you my eternal servitude.”
Even 600 years later, she could still recognize his soul, now in the form of Bobby, the Huntr/x manager. How could she mistake a soul so warm and kind for anyone else’s?
But perhaps it was too late, for in her desperation to protect him, she had become a demon, a monster. Though fate had brought them back together, could he truly come love a being so broken, so ugly, such as her?
word count - 1k+
pairing - han jisung x reader
warnings - none, just immense softness
author’s note: *clears throat, taps mic* is this thing working? anyway, hi y’all i am VERY new to stayblr and to writing on stayblr. this is my first work ever on here. it was born out of my head full of han jisung’s cover of i love you so and my carnal, visceral, insatiable need for him to cover iris by the goo goo dolls... i can picture it already grrrrrr. anyway, hope you guys like this soft little hannie writeup like i did. show it some love if you can xx and i’d be very happy to hear ur thoughts on it <3
The rain pours outside and the pattering against the window creates a soothing thrum in the confines of your room. The lamp by your bed casts a warm glow. The strong earthy scent of the cups of coffee that you had brewed wafts in as you push open the door with your leg. Your boyfriend who lay on your bed, scrolling through his phone let out an appreciative hum and a deep sniff.
You slowly settle down into the mess of blankets and your boyfriend’s limbs. “Here you go, Hannie.”
“Thank you, baby,” he murmurs as he sits up, pressing a swift kiss to your cheek. He grabs a cup from your hand and throws the blanket over your knees as you cuddle up into his side. His phone now lay discarded by the bedside table and his attention was focused on you.
“I feel like every single thing that weighed down on me just fell away as soon as I stepped in here.”
A gentle smile makes its way onto your lips. “Yeah?”
“I missed you so much. I love work, but I missed you so much. It gets so hard sometimes. Somedays I’m tired to my bones and I want to fall apart. I don’t want to face the world or go on stage…Just wanna crawl into your arms and lock us away like this.”
You reach out to him, hands sweeping beneath the hood of his cozy sweatshirt, fingers weaving into his hair. “I know, baby. And you still went out there every night and put on the performance of your life. And now you have hours and hours to be in my arms, just like you want.”
Han looks down at you, eyes glimmering with a fondness that leaves them a little glazed. He leans over, lips finding yours in a soft press of flesh. He kisses you once, twice before he pulls back and away. His coffee mug joins his phone on the bedside table before he fumbles out of the bed, walking away.
“Be right back,” he calls out behind him.
You sip on your coffee revelling in the bittersweet taste of it while wondering where Jisung had suddenly disappeared. You looked at the window, the raindrops merging into one another in a glistening array of oranges and blues reflected on the glass.
A few minutes later, Jisung walks in with his guitar in his arms.
“Oh, are we getting some music to keep us company?”
He flashes you a wide smile as he joins you again. He settles back against the headboard, guitar resting over his thighs. “I have a song for you. Makes me think of you.”
Your heart flutters in your chest. Jisung always makes your heart flutter - as if he was still just a crush. Like your fingers just brushed against each other’s. Like you were sneaking glances and caught the other already looking. Like the first press of his lips against your cheek. Or your trembling fingers as they held his for the first time. Like the tremble of his breath in your ear that first night. “For me? Which one is it?”
He only smiles in response as his eyes focus on settling his finger over the right chords before he begins strumming.
“I’d give up forever to touch you, cause I know that you feel me somehow.”
As you register the words and recognise the song, there’s an immediate sting at the back of your nose building up. Your eyes quickly water as Han’s mellow voice bleeds through the room, reverberating around you, embracing you whole as it makes its way right into your heart, your soul.
He’s a vision, right there in your bed. His hood over his head, hair messy, in a pair of raggedy, old sweatpants. The lamp crowns him with a balmy halo as he gazes right at you while singing. He looks so at ease like he’s exactly where he needs to be, exactly where he belongs. He’s right there looking like the love of your life.
“And I don’t want the world to see me, ‘cause I don’t think that they’d understand.”
A stray tear finally escapes your glistening eyes, running down your cheek. Somehow, if it was possible, Han’s eyes only grew fonder.
“When everything’s made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am.”
You sniff quietly, wiping away the tear as quickly as it came. You weren’t sad, no. How could you be, with the man of your dreams sitting in front of you, in your little haven of a room, singing to you like you were the only one who needed to listen to his voice like this.
As the last chords of the song die out, Jisung sits there for a few seconds, his pretty doe eyes watching you carefully.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” You whisper, voice still a little watery.
Han’s lips curve into a tender smile. “I’m going to marry you.”
Your breath hitches. “Hannie…”
“I know it. There’s a lot of things I’m unsure of. But this is not one of them. I’m going to marry you one day.”
He quickly puts away his guitar when you surge towards him, finding himself with a lap full of you. Your hands cup his face as you lean your forehead against his. “You mean that?”
“Of course, baby. I mean it.”
You kiss him deeply, the taste of coffee on your tongue drawing out a hum out of him. You pull away only to pepper kisses all over his face - on his forehead, his nose, his cheeks, his eyelids, his ears. His laughter fills the air and his hands squeeze your waist affectionately.
“It seems you like the idea of it,” he mumbles, chasing your lips again.
You huff out a breathless giggle as he pushes you off his lap and into the mattress. “Well yeah, I am gonna marry you too, Han Jisung.”
A wide grin blooms on his face as he hovers over you. He’s tugging off his hoodie and leaning down towards you, as he whispers. “Wouldn’t dream of having it any other way.”
I've had a major sneezefic writer's block for a while now, writing in English can be disheartening because it's not my native language 😔
But hey at least I didn't use AI loll
Anyway, this takes place during the period known as "Blank Period" when they're canonically 19 years old. Naruto isn't Chunin yet during this period so it gave me some ideas. Also it's shippy, I love Naruto x Shikamaru, but it's also vague enough that it can be read as their friendship 😁
"...So, by mixing different proportions of the two energies, new types of chakra can be formed. The most common product is elemental chakra, which is u—"
"HHh'ADJSHH'Uh!!"
Shikamaru stopped dead in his tracks at the sudden, though expected, interruption. The cause of such disruption was just a few inches away from him, rubbing his nose with the black sleeve of his jacket and wearing such a pitiful expression that Shikamaru didn't know whether to laugh or sigh.
"I'm sorry..."
"Naruto, that's the fifth time you've interrupted me, and four of them have been because of your sneezes," Shikamaru huffed as he lowered the palm holding the information sheet. "Don't you know how to sneeze like a normal person?"
"I can't help it!" Naruto protested immediately, though still rubbing his nose. "It's just... it itches a lot, it's like there's something inside."
"And that something is a cold, that much is obvious."
Sometimes the strategist wondered how he let himself get dragged into this predicament. Since the end of the 4th Great Shinobi War, the villages had been recovering little by little, and that included Naruto. The blond never got to take his Chunin exams because he had the bad luck that on that day there was an attempt on the 3rd Hokage's life, and so it remained like that for years, with the title of Genin acting as a complex on his shoulders. And now, the exams had been delayed for more than 6 months, forcing Naruto to wait even longer for his chance to obtain the much-desired title. And here they were now, sitting in the living room of the Nara residence, each at one end of the small floor table covered with papers and notebooks. Kakashi, the 6th Hokage, had assigned Shikamaru as Naruto's study helper. The guy surprisingly didn't complain much at the time, but now that he had to deal with this firsthand, he realized how troublesome it was going to turn out. Especially because Naruto wouldn't stop sniffling and sneezing from his side of the table.
The blond sniffled and wiped with his sleeve, completely ignoring the tissue pack that Shikamaru had brought him more than half an hour ago.
"Seriously, you should go sleep and recover from the cold before trying to study."
"No way, Shikamaru!" the blond retorted with a glimmer of vigor in his tired eyes. "If I can't pass these exams, I'll never become a Chunin, much less Hokage. I can't back down, that's my ninja way."
"And does your ninja way involve sneezing all over your study papers?"
Naruto huddled in his jacket and looked at the papers. "I'm using my sleeve..."
"Right..." Shikamaru sighed again. "Let's just continue. And pay attention."
The blond looked at him with more attention than Shikamaru thought possible in someone like him. It was almost endearing, if the strategist had the energy to admit that kind of emotion right now.
"Let's see... Ah, yes. Elemental chakra is used to perform elemental jutsu. As you already know, most ninja have a natural affinity with one type of chakra, also known as chakra nature, and there are five—"
"Hah'AJZSHHUHh!"
"Naruto..."
"That one -snf- caught me off guard!" he rubbed his flushed nose again in such an insistent manner that Shikamaru's expression tightened.
"Stop doing that and use the tissues," he took the small abandoned pack and put them within his reach. "You're going to ruin your sleeve."
The blond obeyed and took a tissue, but a hint of doubt crossed his face.
"It's just... I don't want to waste them, you gave them to me."
Shikamaru softened and rested his cheek against his palm. "Don't worry. You'll pay me back later."
Naruto frowned. "I knew this was a trap."
"Blow your nose, idiot."
The guy obeyed again and took a breath before burying his irritated nose in the tissue with a loud blow that broke the silence. But it was productive, and he seemed to breathe better after it. Now that Shikamaru examined his nose more closely, besides being flushed, the outer skin of his nostrils looked somewhat raw, undoubtedly due to the abuse Naruto inflicted on it with each rub. Moreover, his eyes showed reddish tints and became watery with each forceful sneeze. He had never seen Naruto so noticeably sick. Not that Shikamaru paid special attention to these things, but the blond was someone who made himself noticed, for better or worse, and he never got sick like this. The strategist knew that Kurama, the 9-tailed beast inside him, was quite involved in the strength of Naruto's immune system thanks to his great healing chakra. So, had he been unlucky enough to catch this cold?
"Hey, Shikamaru."
He returned to the present upon noticing a palm waving in front of his face to get his attention.
"Come on, what are you thinking about? We need to continue."
"We need to? That sounds like a team effort. You keep interrupting me."
"I won't do it again, believe it!"
"What a drag... Fine. I'll only forgive three more interruptions. If you reach the limit, I'll force you to go to bed," Naruto opened his mouth to protest, and Shikamaru quickly spoke again. "No protests."
"Okay..." he pouted resignedly. "It's three more times, right? I can do it."
A hint of a smile appeared on Shikamaru's lips at the blonde's determination. Who would have thought that that loud kid who never picked up a book would end up sitting here with him, studying for an exam?
"We left off at the five nature elements, which connect with each person's chakra. But you already know what they are, right? Since you're a wind type."
"That one's easy! They're fire, wind, lightning, earth, and water."
"Exactly. And do you know their strengths and weaknesses?"
"Well, mine is strong against lightning but weak against fire. Fire is strong against wind and weak against water... snff," he wrinkled his nose slightly before continuing, "lightning is strong against... ah, against earth, and its weakness is wind. And earthhh... Hahh—!"
Shikamaru looked up as soon as that desperate inhalation reached his ears. The blond's nose wrinkled again and his eyes closed in an instant, giving way to another strong inhalation.
"Hah'DZJSHHUhh!" he sneezed forcefully into the collar of his jacket this time, in a futile attempt to muffle the sound.
"Bless you," Shikamaru said flatly. "That's one."
"Hey, that doesn't count! I didn't interrupt you!" he sniffled loudly as if in protest.
"You interrupted your explanation, it's the same thing."
Naruto grumbled something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like a reproach and sniffled through his nose again. He took another tissue from the pack.
"Earth is strong against water and its weakness is lightning," he continued, before pausing to blow his nose forcefully. The sound of congestion was more apparent this time. "And water is strong against fire, and weak against earth."
"Perfect."
The motivation that had evaporated with that sneeze returned to Naruto in the form of a radiant triumphant smile. For a moment, Shikamaru struggled to hold back his own smile.
"However, a jutsu with a weaker nature can overcome one with a stronger nature if the former is of a higher level. For example, if a water and fire jutsu of the same level clash, the winner will be the water jutsu. On the other hand, if a powerful fire jutsu is launched against a weak water jutsu, the water will be evaporated by the fire."
Naruto nodded while rubbing his nose again absentmindedly.
"Remember this, Naruto. It'll be on the exam."
"I know," he affirmed and lowered his arm. "What's next?"
"Now we're going into advanced nature types, which are those created by two types of elements at the same time. Do you know which elements create ice?"
Naruto blinked and lowered the sleeve he was scratching his nose with. "Water and wind."
"Very good. This combination of elements can resemble what are called Kekkei Genkai. But Kekkei Genkai are abilities that depend exclusively on genetic factors. In fact, these cannot be copied or taught precisely because they are inherited."
Naruto rubbed his nose again with more focused concentration. It was apparent how much it was itching, but Shikamaru let it pass; after all, it didn't count as an interruption.
"There are three types of Kekkei Genkai: One of them is Dōjutsu, which are ocular jutsu. Another type of Kekkei Genkai is obtained when two types of chakra nature are simultaneously united, creating a new advanced element."
"Heh..."
A small inhalation, barely perceptible to anyone who didn't have the perpetrator just inches away. Naruto rubbed his nose again with more force than necessary in an obvious attempt to mitigate that imminent sneeze. The flush of his nostrils deepened more with each rub, and Shikamaru couldn't help but feel agony just thinking about how irritated it was going to get if he kept going like that.
With a grimace, he sighed. "That's two."
"What?!" Naruto roared as if Shikamaru had just attacked him with a kunai. "That doesn't count, Shikamaru! I'm not interrupting you!"
"Just watching you rub your nose is distracting enough. It looks like you want to rip it off your face."
"That's not fair!"
"Use the tissues, I brought them for a reason," he took one from the pack and offered it to the blonde, who accepted it immediately. "Didn't I tell you earlier that scratching your nose only makes the itching worse?"
"But it itches a lot," Naruto complained from behind the tissue he was using to massage his irritated nose, "it won't stop, it's... Hh... Snrff—"
He paused to blow his nose again into the tissue. The relief lasted until his eyes barely narrowed in response to the treacherous itch that refused to leave his nostrils.
"Arghh! Help me, Shikamaru."
"And what do you want me to do? As far as I know there's no jutsu to get rid of nose itching."
"Buhh—" a more decisive inhalation, followed by that expression that Shikamaru could only describe as "scrunched up."
"Bless you."
"HHh-hehh... Hhh..."
And so, Naruto found himself in limbo. His nostrils expanded slightly with each inhalation, his nose was wrinkled, his eyes closed and his brow furrowed. He looked, frankly, ridiculous. After a couple of seconds, he let out a grunt.
"Shikamaru, it's your fault!" he took another tissue to rub his nose angrily. "Why did you say bless you?!"
"I thought you were going to sneeze."
"You shouldn't say bless you before the sneeze, or it won't come!"
Shikamaru turned away to let out a stifled laugh that he managed to camouflage behind his sleeve. He had long ago lost hope that this study session was going to be fruitful, and now he was struggling with the truth that he was even finding it fun, no matter how Naruto was the most troublesome ninja in the entire village. The person in question didn't notice, very focused on the annoying sensation that foreshadowed the sneeze.
"Wait... I think I hahH— Hehh—!" that more decisive gasp was the greatest proof that the sneeze was about to come. Shikamaru already knew how to recognize it firsthand after an hour of listening to them. "Hah'RJSZHH'Uh!!"
The sound was more vehement than usual, despite being partially muffled by the tissue in Naruto's palms. Shikamaru picked up the paper from the table, ready to resume now that the sneeze business was over. But then Naruto inhaled again.
"Hh'ADJSHHhUH!"
The strategist raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Are you done?"
Naruto shook his head. His face remained buried in the tissue, so the guy could barely scrutinize his expression beyond his closed eyes and furrowed brow. But his position was undeniable, he still felt like sneezing.
"Hh'ADJZSHHUh! Snrrff..."
He sniffled hard through his nose after this last one, an ironic action considering he could simply take another tissue and blow. Not only was his nose running, but his eyes were watery and his cheeks painted with a light pink. Shikamaru wouldn't admit it out loud, but this was starting to worry him. In all the years he'd known Naruto, the guy always sneezed once. Thunderous, yes, but singular. The fact that he had just sneezed three times in rapid succession indicated that his nose was not happy with the virus that managed to enter his system. And that couldn't be a good sign, after all, Naruto never got sick.
Shikamaru exhaled, this time with more concern than tedium.
"Are you okay?" he asked, perhaps with more softness in his voice than he intended.
Naruto took another tissue and blew his nose. He looked exhausted, an expression so uncharacteristic of him that Shikamaru had the sudden instinct to bring him a blanket and hug him until he fell asleep. Luckily, he was known for his high level of self-control.
"Yeah, just... Snrf! Let's continue."
"Naruto, the only thing you should do is sleep."
"I already told you, Shikamaru, I won't let a stupid cold stop me from studying."
That impetuous gleam showed itself again in his eyes, and Shikamaru knew there would be no way to convince him. When Naruto was stubborn about something it was almost impossible to get it out of his hard head. He wouldn't have enough fingers to count the number of times he had witnessed this stubbornness; when he followed Sasuke to the ends of the earth, when he fought Pain, and even when he faced Madara and Obito. But it was in moments like these where Shikamaru couldn't quite understand him.
"Okay. You have one interruption left."
"The previous ones didn't count..." he muttered.
"Yes they did. Now shut up and listen."
Naruto focused again, more determined than before. But there was a slight touch of exhaustion in his demeanor. Shikamaru wondered what his limit would be to admit he should sleep, but he preferred to keep his opinions to himself.
"Let's continue with the combined natures that have been recorded so far. Wood is also popular, born from the Kekkei Genkai of the First Hokage. This is formed by combining the elements of water and earth. And the lava natures..."
He embarked on several explanations on the subject, since this was the longest section of his study notes by far. Chakra was a real drag, Shikamaru knew it, and they hadn't even touched on the subject of jutsu exclusive to certain clans like his Shadow Possession Jutsu. But, despite everything, this section flowed more easily than the previous ones. His slanted eyes remained glued to the lines to facilitate explanations and ensure Naruto understood them. Since the blonde listened attentively, the strategist didn't expect his answers unless he had to ask him something. They returned to the topic of base chakra, and Shikamaru picked up another sheet from those scattered on the table and tatami.
"Chakra Molding consists of the extraction of two types of energies from each cell of the body and the consciousness of the mind, to then mix them within the individual. The amount of each energy differs according to the type of technique that ninjas wish to execute..." his eyelids felt heavier, and he let out an inevitable yawn. The way the wind howled softly, swaying the plants and decorations of the Nara garden was beginning to lull him. "Mmm, Naruto, do you have any questions?"
There was no response. Now that he thought about it, he hadn't heard any kind of distraction for a while, not even sniffles. With a furrowed brow, he looked up to find that the blond wasn't going to be able to answer. He had his cheek resting on his palm, his blond hair swaying with the wind that managed to enter from outside, and his posture was barely hunched. His closed eyelids were all the confirmation Shikamaru needed. He'd fallen asleep.
"Seriously..." Shikamaru murmured, torn between frustrated and resigned, "so I was talking to no one?"
But he found he wasn't angry. In fact, he felt somewhat relieved. Naruto had finally succumbed to his body's call to rest that cold. For a moment, he couldn't look away from him. Now asleep, Naruto looked younger, almost reminding him of that loud kid from the academy. At nineteen years old, Naruto was far from being a child, and the contrast always caught Shikamaru off guard. His shoulders were broad, his hair shorter, and his face more masculine. He had even surpassed several of his classmates in height, including Shikamaru, whom he now beat by 4 centimeters (because yes, he had counted them, so what?). Naruto's breathing whistled slightly with each exhalation, proof that air wasn't passing very easily through his nose. It was strange to see him so peaceful, and Shikamaru thought about covering him with a blanket and letting him sleep. But his sharp intelligence immediately told him it was better to wake him up and take him to bed, in his current position he would only end up with a cramped neck.
He didn't want to do it, but it was for the best. He allowed him five more seconds before speaking.
"Naruto."
There was no response. More determined, Shikamaru inhaled.
"Naruto!"
The blond jumped. His eyes opened wide and for a moment Shikamaru feared he was going to fall onto the tatami.
"Ah, I wasn't asleep, Iruka-sensei!"
A silence followed. Naruto blinked, dazed and still drowsy.
"Iruka-sensei?" Shikamaru repeated, incredulous.
Naruto seemed to understand everything at once. "Ah, I..."
"That's it." Shikamaru declared, leaving the paper on the table before getting up. "You're going to bed."
"Huh? But we haven't finished—"
"We haven't even started. You're too sick to absorb all this," he went to Naruto's side and gave him a pat on the shoulder to invite him to get up. "Come on, we'll study later."
Naruto looked down, hesitant.
"Don't make me use my Shadow Possession."
"Hey, I can go by myself!" he exclaimed, and then his gaze lowered again. "It's just that... I really want to pass this stupid exam. I've never been good at these things, and..."
His voice died out, leaving in the air words that Shikamaru could interpret without needing to hear them. Even his cheeks turned somewhat pinkish. It was obvious, he felt insecure. You couldn't say that Shikamaru and Naruto were friends at the academy, they were barely acquaintances, but the strategist knew well how much the blond struggled with studying. It wasn't his forte, and frankly, Shikamaru didn't understand why he had to take that exam when he was a war hero who saved the village more than once. It didn't make sense, but he wasn't going to get anywhere by complaining either. Rules were rules. But he never imagined he would see Naruto so... vulnerable, if he could put it that way. With that little pout, his averted gaze and flushed cheeks, he could almost say he looked cute, an adjective he never thought to associate with that guy.
He supposed that, if there was anyone who could help him, it had to be him.
"Don't worry," he spoke with a small crooked smile. "With me here, there's no way you'll fail the exam. Believe it."
Naruto smiled at the mention of his characteristic phrase.
"Heh, I guess so," some brightness returned to his face. Shikamaru felt good about having been able to give him back his smile. "Thanks, Shikamaru."
"Come on, get up. It's not worth staying here, let's go to bed."
"Together?"
Shikamaru needed all the strength within his being to stifle the blush that wanted to rise to his cheeks.
"No, idiot. You'll go to bed and I'll make you some soup, you need it if you want to get better soon."
Naruto finally stood up, grinning. "You're so sweet when you want to be, Shikamaru."
"Shut up and come on."
The blond obeyed and they entered the Nara home while Shikamaru guided him to his room. Now that he was giving him his back, the strategist allowed himself a more open smile. What a drag, he thought with more affection. But he found he didn't really mean it.
Sukuna never had a problem getting himself off. He had multiple people to pleasure him ofcourse. It was always one needy whore after another, girl or boy, man or woman. They all wanted to be beside him and praise him.
All untill you. You and your innocent little joy of life.
The day he saw you he was raptured by your sweet smile and blinding beauty. Ofcourse sukuna being the king of curses wanted a taste of you and he knew that once you got a taste of him, you would be on your knees ready to serve him, or so he thought.
To lure you in he disguised himself as a commoner. As much as he hated it that was the only way he could get you to sleep with him. And so there he was standing in front of you- hand in hand...and in a date? He didnt quite understand the concept of dating. It was bizzare and quite complex.. I mean why spend time talking about interests and giving information about oneself that can be used in battles when you could indulge in worldly pleasures lusting over him.
But when he stood there, next to your smiling figure that was failing to get the toy out of the mysterious box of gifts and treasures or as you called it a claw crane.
He didn't understand how small things like those could excite you, he knew he could get you better toys, gifts unfathomable to human kind. Gifts and treasures that only the richest-
"Hehe look isnt this one adorable" you swirled your arm into his pulling him close to hear your heavenly laughter more clearly making him twinge with goosebumps.
As you continued to adore the little ball of cotton he made it his mission to buy the biggest toy there was. Huffing his chest when making the promise only to find you laughing and telling him that it was late and you both needed to catch the last bus.
Scoffing he agreed but somehow the walk back to the station made his way with talks and taunts that somehow made the curse laugh with genuine joy and peace.
Sometimes he found himself smiling and bit too fondly and having to remind himself that he was the kind of curses, devil reincarnated, a powerful curse who once ravaged the earth making thousands tremble-
Disturbed from his thoughts you pulled him down to land the lightest kiss on his cheekbone making him stare at you in wonder.
"Good night sukuna" ofcourse he told you his name....well he wanted to tell you his actual form too but after tonight...god what if he would scare you? What if you didnt want to be with him...wait be with him? Why would he be worried if you wanted to be with him or not?
Laughing he questioned his thoughts making him talk to himself in the dark way back home
'Yea right. Me the powerful sukuna..wanting a woman like her to be with me' what rubbish he thought while having the slightest tinge of red coat his ears.
As a couple weeks went by you both got closer and closer. The more you grew closer you more flustered you got, and ofcourse he wouldnt miss any tiny detail. Everytime he did something to mess with you he would await to see your lovely flustered reaction.
When he would lean down to brush his lips on yours ever so slightly teasing every inch of your tiny self he found himself filled with eagerness and desperation to get closer and make you his. But oh dear god the way you would whimper and sound off his reactions sending blood straight to his dick.
When he found out you reacted like that, whimpering and trembling at his arms sensitive to his touch he found himself repeating it over and over again.
Only to break apart one day and found himself pinning you to the floor as he floated on top of you lips inches apart, eyes fumbling between his and his lips as though signaling to wanting more.
"You look so fucking pretty like this" he said cupping your tiny face with his big hand bringing it closer to a heated kiss, tongue swirling into your own only making you groan into the kiss. With every sound you made, every trace of your small fingers on his body he only was tempted more, tempted to rip off every piece of clothing your body dared to hold.
He wanted to leave marks all over your body, emotion of jealousy and possessiveness taking over him as he left dark red kisses onto your soft skin.
When he raised his head he found you looking at him with a shock.
"Wha- who are you?"
Confusion evidenton his face he jerked back "Huh doll what are you talking about? I'm sukuna"
"No..sukuna doesnt look like this" you said backing off to a corner and as he noted his tatto on his wrists he realised, he changed back to his form. A form he grew when in lust or holding a desire to monopolize something.
Fuck
"Sweetheart. It's me.. I was just-" he knew no words put together would explain who he was and the grew a bit angry when he saw your face holding disgust or so he thought.
Huffing he sat down explaining the most he could. Leaving out parts where he would continue on another day but today he needed you, he needed to feel you, to hear your sweet sultry voice begging him to make you cum.
To his shock you werent afraid, hurting he didnt tell you before this but as you scoped closer cupping his face clearly way too big for your tiny hand
"I just wish youd told me sooner. I dont care where you're from and what you did. As long as we are together I dont want to worry about that."
Sukuna never knew words could turn him on the way it did right now. Pouncing on you continuing where he left off he was quick to remove all your clothing.
As he removed his he noted the way you stared into his chest eyeing his every feature. As though you wanted to eat him up. As he removed his underwear your mouth fell wide.
There was no way that would fit you. No way
As though he could read your mind he came to kiss you deeply
"Dont worry brat, I'll make sure to stretch you wide enough to take me. Hmm? I know my princess will do that for me wont ya?" Nodding he smacked one hand on your cunt he trailed his fingers that were so big you worried about them fitting too.
As he rubbed circles on your clit enjoying every sound that poured out from your sweet lips. As he traced the lining of your dripping pussy he collected some of your juices in his fingers before bringing them to his mouth sucking on them
"Fuck you taste so good. Cant wait to fill you with my cum."
With the end of that sentence he entered your tight hole. Fingering you slowly at first so you got used to his huge fingers. He pumped you in and out observing every twitch and shiver you showed. He sucked onto one of your breasts and the other hand rubbed deep circles on your clit and massaged your folds.
The way he fingered you were sinful, every turn and pull making you moan in delight. As he swirled his index and pointing finger to pump more juices from your dripping cunt he came down to suck on your sensitive clit flicking it with his tongue. He continued his ministrations ramming his fingers into your twitching hole.
He was observant, learning your every reaction as he curled up his fingers to reach a spot so sensitive earning a Yelp and you scurrying away from his touch only for him to pull you back with his nails digging into the soft of your thighs. Kissing you thighs biting the inner side of them.
"Did I tell you could move away from my touch brat? The next time you scurry away and I wont let you cum. Okay? and be a good little whore and lemme stretch you" his words leaving a harsh warning into your brain you knew not to move. Rather you pushed your hips to match his pace as he fingered you to your orgasm.
As you felt a gush of water on your inner thighs you were left heaving and trying to make sense of reality when he came forward lining himself towards your entrance collecting the juices your dripping pussy let out.
"Hmm..and what should I do next princess?? Hmm?"
"Please- I.. want you in me" you said nervously fidgeting with you arms as you let you arms hang on his broad shoulders. He kissed the side of your ears whispering in an octave deeper than usual
"Want what?" He teasing and licking your ears, he knew it was your sensitive spot
"I want your huge cock. Please sukuna"
"Say it clearly brat" he said slapping your boobs before sucking and nibbling your tip
"I want ...want your big dick in me.. please sukuna"
"That's it..that's all I wanted to hear my sweet whore"
As words left your mouth you felt a stretch in your tiny pussy earning a groan from the great king himself before sinking in to reach the deepest part of you that no one ever could
"Fuck you're so fucking tight" he said ramming himself into you obliterating your sweet cunt. His thrusts never slowed down only growing stronger and a tad bit faster so that you were getting accustomed to him. The stretch was so much, too much for you to handle as you felt tears spilling from your reddened cheeks you held onto him hoping you make it out out this alive because the way he was making a mess out of you you werent sure.
He continued and on noticing your tears he kissed your cheeks and lips asking if you were okay. The great king reduced to asking whether you were okay or not..times had truly changed
"Go- go a bit slower.. you're...to..too big unnhhh" you said leaving nail marks on his back earning a hiss from him and that sentence just drove him over the cliff.
Realization hit and he slowed down not so much just a bit so that his arms were on either side of you, mouth kissing your cry of pleasure away.
Soon his arms held your waist in a way to slightly hold you up and he angled himself to curve himself into you. You gasped into the air, breath leaving your lungs for a second as he smirked with the power that only he had. To make such a face out of you.
Hair messed up, body sweating and mouth left gaping open for him to steal open mouthed kisses anytime he wants. As he pulled you closer every inch of his dick now entering your tight cunny you felt your stomach bulging a bit and on looking down you found a bump of his tip. Smirking he massaged the area
"Is my dick too big for you tight cunny hm?" He said but the sight of you fucked up like this only drove him nuts making him turn your insides violently making you scream.
"Yes..you're so big. So fucking biggg...fuck su...I'm.. I'm so.."
Circling your sensitive clit he groaned into the sensation of you tightening on him "I know princess. Fuck I'm close too"
As you felt white run out you jerked your hips to match his brutal pace whimpering about how big he was and how hes ruining you.
With every thrust he grew closer to his unbecoming as he let out white strings of hot cum into your tight sweet cunny.
The sight etched into his memory, you laid out in front of him bare and vulnerable with dark marks all over your body, cunt leaking out his cum and sheets soaked with both your fluids.
This was a sight he would never forget as he laid next to you bringing you on top of him you rubbed circles on his tattooed chest admiring his chiseled body.
He brought your face up to kiss him sweetly, as though he was scared he would break you.
You fell into a deep slumber while the curse stayed awake..wondering what to be done of his new pet.
Omg please write more for Wally Clark. I need some overstimulation kink and I loved your last piece. 💖💖
⋆. 𐙚 ̊ crybaby .ᐟ 3
⋆. 𐙚 ̊ synopsis ; forty years is a long time to go without getting laid, and when one thing leads to another, wally gets a little carried away.
⋆. 𐙚 ̊ includes ; wally clark x fem!reader, porn with very little plot, reader is described as having long hair, reader is described as being shorter than wally, unprotected sex ( don’t do this ), oral (m!receiving), fingering, wally has a filthy mouth ( you’re telling me the popular jock wouldn’t talk you through it? ), reader cries ( /pos? )
content below the cut is intended for readers over the age of eighteen, minors do not interact.
ten years, ten long years you had roamed the halls of your old high school. well, haunted would be more fitting.
there was one silver lining, you had died in the cuntiest outfit you owned. a black micro skirt, which in your defence was the fashion in the early two-thousand’s, a leopard print tank top, again, it was all the rage, and a cropped black tracksuit jacket with a fur hood.
if this years students could see you, they probably wouldn’t wanna talk to you.
a pastime of the afterlife included hiding in the janitors closet, attempting to copy the makeup you saw girls today wearing while out of sight of the other ghosts.
thank god you straightened your hair the day you died.
your knees are tucked up to your chest as you look through your overflowing makeup bag, your hand finally grasping the mascara tube you were searching for.
when the door is swung open and slammed in record time you freeze, mascara wand mid air and mouth slightly parted as you look up to see who barged into your hiding place.
wally clark, another ghost. you mentally curse, knowing that you could be seen if he turned around and your hideout was compromised. but wally seemed too distracted to turn around, his hand planted against the door and his head hung low.
you couldn’t help wonder if he was okay, especially when his breathing became more ragged and his forehead fell against the door, right beside his hand.
at first you thought he could be having a panic attack, but when you heard him groan out a quiet ‘fuck’ the realisation hit you like a freight train.
“uh, occupied?”
to say you scared wally was an understatement, his head almost hit the ceiling with how high he jumped before spinning around to see who he’d barged in on, his hand still buried in his sweatpants.
you couldn’t deny wally was attractive, especially now, that cursed varsity jacket abandoned somewhere, leaving him in his white tshirt and grey sweatpants. he was sweating, muscles flexed and that god forsaken chain hanging around his neck.
his eyes land on you, sat on the concrete floor looking up at him, lips still parted from the sudden invasion. for a second he screws his eyes shut, letting his head fall back with a sigh as he took his hand out of his pants.
“sorry,” he deadpans, too frustrated to make the apology sound genuine “didn’t think anyone else came here.”
there’s something that stops you from throwing back a sarcastic quip or a demand to leave, you just sit there staring like a deer in headlights.
“i’ll go.”
when he turns to open the door, your mouth moves faster than your brain can keep up with. not that your brain was much good at the moment, all it kept telling you was how hot wally looked.
“stay.” you blurt out, surprising both yourself and wally as you shift to sit on your knees “let me help you.”
you didn’t know if it was a panic response or ten years of unattended horniness, but you did know you hoped he would agree rather than bolt.
wally is speechless, heavy lidded as he stared down at you, the strain against his sweatpants becoming more noticeable by the second. you can tell he thinks it’s a bad idea, but he was too horny to care.
“fuck it,” he huffed, shoving his pants down just enough to free his dick from its restraint and stroking it slowly.
a grin appears across your face, and you waste no time in wrapping your mouth around him, swirling your tongue in quick circles and relishing the noise he made in response.
his fingers lace through your hair, tugging at it as his hips bucked against your face, his cock forcing its way down your throat with every thrust.
“that’s it, baby.” he groans, fingers tightening in your hair when you ignore your gag reflex and take him until your nose is pressed against his pelvis “shit, you’re so fucking hot. such a good girl, taking my cock so well”
it’s not long until you can feel him twitch against your tongue, letting you know he was getting closer with every flick of your tongue.
you whine when he pulls out of your mouth, but quickly get the message when he continues to work himself with a hand, the other tugging at your hair. you stick your tongue out in anticipation, and the sight alone is enough to finish wally off, managing to get most of his release into your mouth as the rest ran down your chin.
“god, you’re fucking perfect.” wally mumbled, getting you to your feet and pressing your back into the shelves behind you “you’re a mess already, baby.” he mumbles against the skin of your neck, kissing along the skin until he reaches your ear “just imagine how you’re gonna look riding my cock.”
he tears the flimsy fabric of your skirt, as if to punctuate his words, making you gasp in surprise as you’re left in your underwear with wally towering over you.
wally glides his thumb across your chin, collecting the mess he made before pushing the digit into your already open mouth, the fingers of his free hand digging into your hip.
“i’m gonna fuck the shit out of you,” wally warns, ghosting his hand along where you need him most “gonna fuck you so good the whole schools gonna hear you fall apart on my cock.”
“please, wally.” you whimper out, bucking against his hand for some form of contact.
without warning he plunges two fingers into you, holding you up by the neck when your knees go weak and you cry out his name.
“you can be as loud as you want, babe” wally laughs, his thumb rubbing fast circles into your clit as his tongue finds its place on your neck, leaving obvious marks behind as it went “wanna make sure the entire school hears how much of a slut you really are, i mean, who sucks off someone in a janitors closet? you were practically drooling at the thought of me fucking your mouth.”
nothing coherent is leaving your mouth, just babbles of sound between loud moans. wally never lessens his pace, the feeling make you dizzy and blurring your eyes until something snaps, leaving you screaming in pleasure as wally fingers you through your orgasm.
“there’s a good girl,” wally coos, removing his fingers and placing them in his mouth while his free hand shoved your underwear down your legs “i’m gonna destroy you, baby, starting right here.”
he slowly drags a finger across your clit before shoving off this sweatpants entirely. the closet is a cramped, sweaty mess as you both desperately undress each other until you’re both in nothing but your socks.
“fuck,” wally sighs, biting down on his lip as he looked you over “i wanna see you ride me so bad but, don’t think it’s gonna happen here.”
after a beat he’s turning you away from him, bending you over a shelf to give you something to hold onto before sliding into you with no warning.
his pace is relentless, slamming into you hard and fast, pulling your hair back into a makeshift ponytail to pull you back towards him.
“you’re doing so good, gorgeous. taking me so fucking well, look so pretty on my cock,” wally groans out, pistioning his hips at a speed that sends your second orgasm crashing through you without warning.
“good girl,” wally coos, wrapping an arm around your waist to continue his assault on your clit “that’s it, baby, that’s it. fuck, you’re so fucking hot making a mess all over my cock, my pretty girl.”
tears spill down your face, tracking mascara along your cheeks as he continues rutting into you. the overstimulation leaving your brain short circuiting, leaving you only able to cry out his name as drool pooled in the corner of your mouth.
your fucked out state only motivates wally more as his thrusts become more and more desperate until he finally releases inside of you with a low groan, the feeling of him running down your inner thigh is enough to throw you into your third orgasm.
“you did so good, pretty girl.” wally praises, slipping out of you and pressing a kiss to your shoulder “fuck, i haven’t fucked like that in forever.”
“mm, same” you mumble out, completely fucked out and barely able to stand let alone speak.
“ruined your makeup,” wally sighs apologetically, glancing down at the now abandoned makeup bag as he began to redress “come find me when you’re done, yeah? i still wanna see you riding me.”
