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#I hope I gave someone feels writing this
tunamayojazz · 1 year
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the vampire/snake au drawing! i loved toge's expression in it!
AAA THANK YOU!!! that's honestly one of my favorite inuokko aus i've worked on. it's also great practice for expressions bc toge is truly going through it in this one.
bc i miss this au so much here are some angsty, angy and despairing toges!
some very wordy context for each toge below.
caution warning for mentions of blood and violence (towards a cursed spirit)
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top left: one of the few times toge lets his guard down is when he thinks he's alone. those are also the times he allows himself to feel just how beaten down and tired by he is because of this "curse" he's struggling with. at this particular moment is when yuta confirms that something is truly wrong with toge. he'd just gotten back from a mission when he sees the boy by himself in the school gardens. he's never seen him look so lost and exhausted, and the sight is something that seriously worries yuta. toge catches yuta staring from a distance and immediately shifts his expression, giving the other a weak smile and waving as though nothing is off.
top right: this moment is mentioned in the first post i made about this au, when yuta tries probing into toge's unspoken struggles (bc he knows something is wrong, and it's killing him to feel this helpless).
"a few more unusual things happen that yuta simply cannot keep quiet about, so he tries his luck finding out from toge himself, and is surprised when on his 5th or so try, toge snaps, and yuta swears tht he saw toge's irises turn into slits for a millisecond and the air around them getting slightly heavier. but together with toge's anger, it vanishes in a flash. toge calms himself and simply signs that "people change". yuta frowns like a kicked puppy."
i would honestly change the tone to something a little more serious: yuta doesn't frown like a kicked puppy, he feels his heart drop to his stomach and is lost for words. toge leaves without saying anything else, leaving yuta to sit in silence, confusion and hurt.
just what had happened in the time he was gone?
bottom: the moment of a horrifying realization. after barely two weeks of experiencing odd changes to himself (heightened senses, bursts of anger, intense dislike to heat, an unquenchable thirst for something he can't quite name), the true extent of this new feeling reveals itself during a solo mission.
it's a tricky cursed spirit to beat and toge feels himself get increasingly aggravated the more the curse tries to play with him. at one point, he snaps. when he shouts "don't move", it doesn't wear off even after the usual duration of the cursed command passes. ruthlessly, he takes his time and tears into the curse with his bare hands, sharp nails digging into whatever he can grip onto and ripping and ripping until there's nothing left. he hadn't even realize he'd been muttering throughout it either, words like "die, just die" contributing to the cursed spirit's violent demise. it takes several moments of silence to take it all in, and it terrifies him when he does.
one: something is happening to him, something deeply twisted and wrong.
two: no one can know.
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cetaceans-pls · 2 years
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Back To Front
Magic gone awry has made Bruce a much, much younger man.
Jason’s not super jazzed about being the Responsible Adult in this situation
BruJay, T
bruce wayne day 4, for the prompts: brand new at batman, fear of guns
this is VERY soppy. i’m also SO indescribably sleepy that i wrote this with one eye closed, but nevertheless i enjoyed writing this hugely, so please enjoy
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Jason looks at Bruce, and tries to be Regular about for having to look down to meet him in the eyes, for the first time since, uh, the dawn of time.
“You’re handling this pretty well.”
Bruce, zapped by a stray bolt of magic during a battle royale between Z and the magiced asshole of the week and now a hang-dogged looking young man of 20, just looks at Jason balefully.
God, Jason thinks. Man’s too young to even drink.
“Look, I know the only reason you let me give you a lift back to the Cave is because I got Alfie on the phone to talk to you. You haven’t even met Di-, uh.” Shit. Jason’s not sure what would happen if he spills that kind of information, if maybe this soggy-biscuit version of Bruce will find out he goes from lone ranger to mother hen right quick and decide to not go to the circus one particular night. “Uhm.”
“If this really is time travel and not some type of induced hallucination, don’t tell me anything,” Bruce says in his trademark growl, but it’s a little high and it lacks that electronic overlay that makes his voice spit and threaten like a fork being blasted in a microwave.
He’s so young. Jason’s eyes almost water to look at him, and he cannot comprehend that a year or so further down the line, this Bruce with his lank hair and perpetual turned corners to his mouth will see a child who’s lost everything and go no, not everything.
“I won’t,” Jason says. “I wasn’t gonna,” he says, like he hadn’t had half of Dick’s name out his mouth. He groans, and brushes his hair back in irritation. “I guess it’s going to be code names only, then. I’m Red Hood, and we, uh. Work together.”
It’s one way to describe it. He pulls out his phone, ignores Bruce’s hungry, interested stare at the cutting-edge piece of tech to someone from a time where landlines were king, and texts Alfred.
he doesn’t remember anything can you please take out EVERYTHING in the bedroom?
Of course.
He looks up from his phone, and see Bruce looking at him shrewdly. It’s another departure from normal; regular Bruce, his Bruce, is constantly looking at people shrewdly with zero expression on his face. Bruce can run through 15 vicious assessments of a brand new alien species without a single crease of an aristocratic brow, probably, and it just hammers home how....fresh and new to all of this, Bruce is.
Once a man’s been Batman for a couple of decades there’s something of it that remains in the blood, and Jason had thought he’d gotten awful good at seeing the man underneath it all, but... no. Even at his most vulnerable, even at his most laid bare, the Bruce of his time’s got too much iron in the blood, too much eldritch after seeing all of the horror.
He looks at this Bruce and the first adjective that comes to his mind is soft-bellied. His second thought it Gotham’s gonna ruin you.
It’s a little depressing, like giving a eulogy at a funeral for a man who isn’t dead yet, and maybe Jason’s not as good at keeping a poker face while roiling in emotional turmoil because Bruce looks at him with blatant concern.
“Do we have a bad working relationship?”
“Maybe?” Jason doesn’t even know if he’s lying because of time travel or because he doesn’t actually know how to describe the messy fuzzy business of Batman and Red Hood being simultaneously terribly antagonistic and brutally efficient. “Look, I’m gonna get a migraine if I have to do 6-D chess to figure out if I’m going to collapse space-time every time I answer a question. How about we just sit here quietly in the Cave, you don’t look too hard at any of the tech, and you also don’t ask me why we have magicians on speed-dial.”
Bruce frowns. “You don’t have to keep me company in that case. I’ve survived near-death experiences, I can survive sitting in the Cave by myself until help comes.”
“Great point. Except, see, I can’t leave you alone.” Not for any practical or logistical reasons; few places on Earth were safer, and they can’t even go to Clark’s Fortress because this B is still a few years out from their first meeting. “Don’t ask me why,” Jason rushes to say, when he sees Bruce open his mouth to argue (of course). “Time traveler reasons, all right?”
The hell it is. Jason just cannot leave B alone in this state (soft-bellied). It’s just hitting hard and hitting weird, to see how young B had been when he’d started all of this. Of course Jason’s stint had started much younger and ended much worse, but he’d popped out of Catherine with skin an inch thick, probably.
Left to himself he hadn’t been particularly idealistic, though that trait had blossomed when he got given Robin. It’s just a weird realisation to make, that Bruce is all ass-backwards. Had started out a little delicate and intensely believing in his singular ability to make things better, and so much of that just gotten chipped away. The pillar of support’s mostly gone now, much of what’s left is just stoic rusty rebar.
This before to the after that’s the Bruce he owns is a little sickening to think about, much less face.
Bruce doesn’t pick up on Jason’s obvious cues that he’s feeling a little frazzled and a lot awful, because all he’d heard was Jason brushing him off without good reason. “Listen,” he says, puffing up his chest, and god the armour plating on this early batsuit looks gossamer thin and about as good at gossamer at preventing injury, god. “If you’re that desperate to keep your secrets, it’s fine. Just leave, and send Alfred down here to keep me company. He knows me.”
Jason wants to laugh at that, though he’s feeling a tad too hysterical to let it loose. “I promise you, B, I know you real damn well. Too damn well, even.” It’s 100% why he’s having this crisis of self, seeing what Bruce could’ve been based on what he was.
(Could’ve been someone with emotions he didn’t mind being read on his face).
Bruce doesn’t look convinced, so Jason pulls out his gun and in a smooth move shoots a hole through a target on the other side of the cave. The resounding bang echoes like a ghost through the cavernous walls, but Jason doesn’t even have time to care about the ringing in his ears.
What decades of training have dampened down to little more than a twitch at the corner of his mouth isn’t present here; Bruce has a full-body shudder, then goes a little green, before rallying back and baring his teeth. “Why the hell did you do that?”
“You get better at it, at not reacting to guns,” Jason says simply. “For a long while you got better at it for bad reasons,” and he’s too polite to say you have had some type of deathwish or other for most of your life, “and then you did it for better reasons.”
Bruce just keeps staring at him, even and serious. “Which one are you?” he snaps. “One of the bad reasons or one of the good ones?”
That does manage to pry out a startled laugh from Jason, who wants to grab Bruce round the throat and either punch him or kiss him (no changes there). “Been a major contributor to both, to be honest.”
Bruce steps towards him, posture aggressive but voice strangely earnest. “Which one are you now?”
Jason looks down at him, and wants to scream. “Good one,” he says, rendered solemn despite himself. “We both worked real fucking hard to get to that stage, I can tell you that for fucking sure.”
Jason’s forced to rescind his earlier thoughts; even if this Bruce still hasn’t gotten his face under control yet, that brain under all that thick mussed-up hair is still razor sharp (and a bit of a bitch). Bruce’s eyes narrow, than widen in surprise. “We’re involved. Aren’t we? We’re involved, and something about me or you or us together makes working together difficult.”
Jason groans, and shoves Bruce away with a hand to the face. “Nope, not getting into that. I literally am not gonna tell you anything any more, we’re both in time-out right now, fucking hell.”
For no reason that Jason could conceivably come up with, Bruce just looks satisfied. “You want to do a time-out but still sit together with me here, when you could just leave. Could have just left a while ago. That it, isn’t it? Our working relationship is difficult, but our personal relationship is...good.” He looks a little disbelieving. “Good enough that you’re here and you won’t leave me.”
Jason makes a face, and scowls at Bruce. “If this universe collapses around our ears ‘cos you couldn’t not be a detective and leave things the hell alone, I’m not taking responsibility.”
Bruce looks at him like he’s about to argue, but then he cocks his head to one side, frowning. “Did you hear that-”
And then the universe does collapse (just a little bit).
-
When Jason comes to, he’s sitting in one the Cave’s 200 office chairs, and Bruce, his Bruce, is leaning against a table, arms folded around that (magnificent!) broad chest.
Jason feels so much blessed relief it hits a lot like an asthma attack. “Fuck me, you’re the worst human being in the entire goddamn world.”
Bruce shrugs, but he’s smiling faintly. “Don’t think that can be true, since you’re still here with me.”
Jason groans. “Fuck me, do you remember everything? Wait, so that really was you from, like, 1998 or something? We didn’t break the universe.”
Bruce shakes his head ruefully. “I’d been trying out a new type of grappling hook, and the line had snapped. I wake up and I’m concussed to hell and back, and everything’s like a fever dream. Didn’t realise it wasn’t until the Red Hood came to Gotham, but it certainly added an interesting layer to how I felt when I found out that this....,” he gestures vaguely around them, “this was you.”
Jason licks his lips, throat gone dry. “Good kind of layer, or a bad one?’
Bruce pushes away from the table to loom over Jason, this familiar sightline, this beloved bulk. He rests a hand at Jaosn’s jaw, and smiles. “The good kind,” he murmurs, warm and close. “After all, we both worked real fucking hard to get here, didn’t we, Jaybird?”
Un-fucking-believable. Jason wants to beat the crap out of Bruce, and has to make peace with just biting hard on Bruce’s thumb instead. “Asshole. Should’ve stayed as younger-you, he was all innocent and, uh, earnest.”
“Gotham’s taken most of it away,” Bruce says matter-of-factly, but they’re both still whispering like they’re in a church that they built themselves. “Whatever’s left though, I’m happy to let you keep.”
All of it, Jason doesn’t say, because it doesn’t need saying. He’s keeping all of it, because all of it is his, cracked cement and sturdy rebar and a face that’s easy to read and this worn-down man who’s still better than the next thousand you could conjure up.
“C’mon,” Jason says roughly, knocking Bruce’s hand off and climbing to his feet. “Everyone’s been worried as shit about you.”
“They shouldn’t have been,” Bruce says mildly. “You were here with me.”
“Oh my god,” Jason says. “Fuck me, bring back the other guy.”
But then he grabs the hand he’s bitten, and tugs Bruce back to the present.
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....honestly i think part of the reason i don't give readers the version of my manuscript i intend to Query is because at that stage i absolutely cannot stomach the idea of making more revisions based on feedback lol
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lcevinolusola · 10 months
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kirwell · 7 months
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my advice to the writers out there
I'm writing this instead of my book right now,, cause intrusive thoughts
I’m someone who likes to look around for writing advice to get new perspectives and helpful tips and ideas from other writers.  But sometimes I’d hunt around for validation from videos to see if I was “doing things right” with my own book, and I can’t tell ya how damaging that’s been for me in the past on my writing journey.
While taking advice and constructive criticism is good and progressive and can help you see things from another perspective to better your writing, I also can’t stress enough to take things with a grain of salt when it comes to other people's opinions on genres and tropes.
Has someone else written something like my story before? Probably yeah. 
Are there tropes in my story that have already been in other books/other media? Oh yeah, I don't doubt it.
Are some people tired of seeing certain themes and settings in stories? Sure. Everyone is into different things. 
Does that mean my story shouldn’t be written at all, and I should just write something else instead? Hell fuckin no, yo !
I love my story because I’m telling it the way I WANT in my own style, my own characters, and with my own messages that I want to tell. Putting your heart and soul into your writing is a real thing ya’ll, and that will stand out. 
I love high fantasy stories with medieval themes, magic, fantastical worldbuilding, great adventures, and grand quests with a party of characters I can love and relate to.  I love wizards, elves, fairies, demons, and all the things you imagine when you hear “classic fantasy.”  That genre has always inspired me and brought out the most creative side of me. 
So when some people say, “Don’t write that,” or “Don’t write this,” because it’s been touched upon before and nobody wants to read that anymore, it would bum the hell outta me. 
So should I NOT write my own story and share it because a part of it fits into a familiar trope within the genre? Does that mean my story shouldn’t ever be read and that it’s inherently not good?
If you have a story to tell, and you wanna tell it, then write it! It’s your book, it’s your story, it’s your characters, and you’re allowed to enjoy what you’ve created. 
Take constructive criticism, be flexible, and be open to learning and changing, like you would with any other skill. I wouldn’t be where I’m at in my writing capability today if I had never listened to advice and practiced over and over again.
But don’t let anyone take away your creativity!
Changing the whole theme of your story because it may not appeal to some readers or publishers is the most ridiculous, damaging thing I’ve heard. There will always be people who won’t wanna read what you’ve written, or publishers who aren't interested, and that’s okay. That’s to be expected with anything creative.  But if you like something, write it, and don’t let others say you shouldn’t. It’s damn near impossible to be 100% original in every aspect of your story and avoid every single used trope, if that’s even possible to do anymore these days. Trying to be perfect will drive you insane.
Personally, the more you try to “change this” and “change that” in order to check off your originality boxes, the less happy you’ll be with your work. That's been my experience, at least. I went through a lotta versions of my book to fit what writers in their videos were telling me it should be in order to be accepted and appreciated, and I wasn’t happy with any of it and felt really stuck.
Try and find the right kinds of videos and communities that’ll inspire you, encourage you, and help ya in places where you’re falling short.  Some channels can really suck out all of your creativity and make you second-guess everything you’ve created, wondering if your story will ever be good enough.
A setting where a character or a group has to go on an adventure to fulfill a certain goal is something I really like, and to be told that specific trope is dull and overdone was discouraging on a whole other level. Why should I write this if nobody even wants to read it?
I’ve had to stop watching channels in the past because this idea was preached so much and I believed it, and it was depressing reading comments who felt the same as me.
“I gotta rewrite my whole story now.” “Oh no, my story is like this!” “Guess I shouldn’t write about that in my story.” 
Please don’t give up on your stories because of personal opinions on a genre or a trope! We all have opinions, likes, dislikes, and prefer different things. Nothing is set in stone. 
For me, a story is about the journey and what the characters go through and how they make me feel. If you wanna write a vampire love story with witches and werewolves and a love triangle, go for it! If you wanna write a story about a school for magical creatures in a fantasy world, go for it!
Make a story YOURS and don’t be afraid to tell it! Someone out there will love what you’ve made and it’ll inspire them just like you were inspired. Write for YOU and for all those people who love what you love and will wanna read the fuck outta your book! 
,,I hope this was actually useful advice for someone out there. Cause this is something I wish someone would have told me years ago. Now go write and have fun with it ! 
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simplyreveries · 3 months
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I ADORE YOUR WRITING!!
what about a reader who’s unknowingly flirting with the twst wonderland cast (specifically savanclaw, octanaville and diasomnia) because of culture differences and species differences?
e.g petting their ears, giving them gifts, smiling with teeth (bc for moray eels that’s how they mate 👀)
OR fem reader who has her period and some of the twst students can smell it I LITERALLY HAD A NIGHTMARE ABOUT THIS 😭😭😭😭
OMLL I APPRECIATE ITTT!!! sorry for the wait!!! i chose some from each dorm bc of my character limit btw!!
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azul ashengrotto
despite how much azul continues to do his best to learn about life on land… relationships are certainly difficult for him to understand sometimes considering how long he has spent his life in the sea and though there are many similarities between merpeople… there are still some differences. once azul is rather close to you he does become unintentionally— clingy with you. (when you two officially get together that's another story) but he has a habit of wanting to lean close to you or have a hand on you in some way, like on the small of your back when showing you something in the mostro lounge.
so needless to say, he is in love with any sort of touch from you he takes that as some sort of hope and sign that you reciprocate how he feels haha. jade and floyd tease him ALL the time about it especially when he was struggling to keep his cool-headed composure after you once gave him a hug after he did something to help you once.
like I've said azul really doesn't think about it or even try to be this way around you he just does aljdfajdkhf. he’ll feel like a smitten fool as he sits in the vip lounge as he's doing papers and just think about how you playfully linked your arm around his to bring him somewhere. small things like that are actually quite big to him when it comes down to the differences.
jade leech
he's aware you probably don't know that you're unknowingly flirting with him, but he finds it amusing and plays along with you, nevertheless. he thinks it's cute that you don't know and all the more enticing, you’ll find him chuckling, trying to hide his grin with his gloved hand “oh my, I didn't know you liked me that much fufu” he’d say. you can't help but feel confused as to what he finds so interesting… like you literally just yawned.
it'll take him a while to actually tell you what it means since he finds the obliviousness to be quite cute. you only put two and two together when he tells floyd about what you did right in front of him and the two laugh about it. now you've got floyd teasing u about it..
like azul he is a little more affectionate just in a different more. in a less obvious fashion, though there definitely have been a few occasions where he likes to bring your hand to his lips and see your reaction, he finds it so amusing. he always has his teethy grin plastered on his face.
leona kingscholar
he hates the way he can always tell when you're wearing cologne or perfume and he hates that he likes it as well, he may or may not be a bit addicted to your scent. he literally can tell if you're near just because he knows the damn fragrance you use.
if you two are particuarly close... like him falling asleep around you and such. if you happen to pet his head and his ears, he immediately shoots you this look then mumbles something before being too tired to do anything about it or give you some retort. he just lets it happen... he does enjoy it anyway. slowly he kinda doesnt realize how clingy he can get with you because of it. he becomes a little needy and wanting more attention from you. he cant help it.... i mean you basically just showed him that you're fine with it anyways.
leona seems to be someone who can get pretty possessive, unintentionally too over you. kind of territorial, like if you're someone he has eyes for then he doesn't expect others to really get in the way of that.
malleus draonica
malleus is not only a fae but a pretty sheltered one too, I’d think he’d take almost anything from you as a sign of you being completely infatuated with him as he is with you. you could offer split your ice cream or invite him out somewhere, show any sort of interest in him as he talks about gargoyles as he’s doing single club activities. the one time you asked curiously and wanted to touch his horns, he’d be searching for the loveliest jewel to bestow you for your wedding day.
speaking of jewels… he gifts to you a lot especially after you give him anything first (it could be a cool rock you found) and he’d be so smitten and glad to reciprocate that by giving you earrings, rings, necklaces etc. and when you accept them even though you're not exactly fully understanding why he takes it even more as a sign of you accepting his advances.
after taking any of your little acts of being somewhat kind to him and he’s already so deeply into you, lilia would certainly be someone who hears just all about it. i think he would only feel happy for malleus, as it appears he must’ve found the right one. he is just supportive of malleus and is simply overjoyed to know he has some little human that makes him so happy.
lilia vanrouge
he has lived long enough and in different places to understands human courting's and more so than someone like malleus. he knows how different it is, trust me he is fully aware, but he thinks it's amusing. lilia pretends to take it the wrong way and watch you get all confused, when he's just being playful.
just cant help that he finds it so adorable when you unknowingly show him affections as a fae would in his culture. even just being slightly affectionate with him is enough to have him giggling and warning you to be careful to what fae you do that to. they do tend to take very kindly towards any affections and gifts!
lilia will straight up tell you though too, you could gift him and give him something neat you found or made, and he'd look up at you with a stupid grin like "kfufu... i accept your love, dear" NO???. he still holds onto anything from you with the utmost joy.
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strawbeerossi · 6 months
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Taking Calls
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Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid
Description: Whenever a man who makes you feel uncomfortable asks for your number, you give him your boyfriend’s number instead. Whenever he texts him all day and finally decides to call, Spencer plans on taking care of it.
Content/Warnings: Minor case details (nothing explicit), creep officer, loving boyfriend Spencer, intimidation mention, kissing, unprotected sex, Spencer answers a phone call in the middle of sex (I didn’t know how to word that so it works lmao.)
Word Count: 1.2K
Anon Request: I had a spicy idea where a creepy cop tries to get readers number for “work purposes” and instead she gives him Spencer’s number and the cop happens to call Spencer and reader while he’s in the middle of fucking reader or the reader is in the middle of giving him a blowjob and the cop sort of hears her in the background? I just thought you’d be the perfect person to write this 😍
Navigation || Criminal Minds Masterlist || Request
🏷️ @kr-1-sta @iluvreid @nervousmoongiver @multifandom-on-the-side @ferrjulie @lov1ngreid @sobbingcryingattsizzles @doriantomybasil @thegluesong @rosiehale23
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Spencer had his number given out before due to a prank on Derek’s end that had so many people blowing up his phone. It was something he vowed that he would get the man back for and specifically state that it could never happen again.
The team was on a case in Manhattan, a standard killer who had an awakened blood lust was terrorizing the city. After six victims, the NYPD felt it was best to invite the BAU onto the case, which seemed to be too little too late due to the man going dormant.
Every lead was buried so deep that you’d need an excavator to dig them up, still the team persisted. You were currently on day three, staying back at the police precinct along with Dave to interview the families of the deceased, hoping to dig up any leads.
You had currently stepped out for a brief break, standing by the coffee machine as you were getting one of the disposable cups, filling it to the brim with a healthy mixture of coffee and sugar. “Hey, Y/L/N, correct?” A voice came from behind you, making you turn to look over the person addressing you. Officer Laslow. “Hi, yes. That’s me. How can I help you?” You asked, eyebrows raising.
You didn’t like to judge people, however you had a very uneasy feeling around him. The way he was looking at you was a good enough reason to be uncomfortable, the man seeming to mentally undress you as he stared into your soul. “I was just wondering if your team had any leads? I mean, I’m sure the families know something,” He spoke, making you sigh as your shoulders slumped. “Nothing, unfortunately.” You spoke while sipping from the coffee cup in your hands.
“Nothing? What a shame. I was actually wondering if you and I could exchange numbers? No funny business, I’m just wanting to make sure we can stay in communication throughout this case. You know, share intel.”
He could’ve just asked Aaron for updates. However, in the moment of being uncomfortable and not knowing what to say, you were clearing your throat. “Well. Okay.. Just for intel though.” You murmured, slowly taking the device from his hands to put in Spencer’s number instead of your own. You’d explain things to your boyfriend later. Until then, you were doing the next best option. Spencer could handle this. You were sure of it.
As another day passed and there was no leads, the team was retreating to the hotel for the night to try and get some rest, even if they were overly focused on trying to catch the murderer running around freely. “Honey, I have a question.” Spencer began as he was walking from the bathroom, a pair of flannel pyjama pants and a white t-shirt clinging to his lanky frame. “I’ve just had a lot of texts today. The person is addressing you by name. Wanna talk about who you gave my number to?” He asked softly. He knew it had to be a big deal if you wouldn’t give someone your number.
“Some creep on the NYPD team. You should’ve seen the way he looked at me, Spencer. It made me so uncomfortable.” You shivered while looking over at your boyfriend. “I’m sorry that I gave him your number. I didn’t know what else to do.” The feeling of his hand rubbing your shoulder caused your body to relax, a soft sigh leaving his lips.
“I’m not upset with you by any means. I just wanted to ask. He didn’t try and touch you or force himself on you, right?” He asked, slowly letting his arm wrap around your shoulders as you shook your head. “No. Nothing like that. He was just twice my size and intimidating. I mean, he could’ve hurt me if I rejected him.” In this job, Spencer saw cases like that far too much, so he believed it.
“Come here.” He spoke while slowly pressing a few kisses against your cheek. “It’ll be okay. I’ll speak with Hotch about it tomorrow. It’ll get taken care of.” He smiled, the back of his knuckle gently caressing your cheek. “How did I get so lucky to be with you?” You asked softly, offering a smile as you leaned against his touch. “I’m the lucky one.” He mused, now moving to press a sweet kiss against your lips.
However, the kiss was only cut short whenever he could hear the ringtone on his phone designated for texts. “This guy is a real piece of work.” Your boyfriend muttered against your lips, opting to ignore the incessant sounds coming from his phone as he carried on your shared kiss. As the kids deepened, his hands were working to push your shirt over your head before his hands were working on your work pants. You hadn’t changed just yet, so he felt like he was definitely helping you out in the grand scheme of things.
Once you were undressed to his liking, it wasn’t long until your own hands were pushing at his clothes to bring him to the same level of unclothed as you were. “Lay down.” Spencer breathed as he broke the kiss, watching you push yourself back in bed before he was crawling on top of you to attach your lips once more. You were both eager, a lot of stress from this case as well as your own yearning for pleasure making things go just a little faster than usual. He used one hand to bring one of your legs around his waist, which prompted you to mirror your actions with your other leg.
Pushing your panties to the side, your boyfriend wasted no time pushing his cock inside of your eager cunt, a low groan leaving his lips as the hand propping him up was gripping the sheets. “Fuck. I love you.” He whispered, pressing a few sweet kisses to your lips. For once today, you felt like you could forget the officer from earlier, to enjoy the moment. Until Spencer was getting a call. “Are you kidding?” He huffed out of frustration, hips still thrusting at a slow pace as he was reaching over to take his cellphone from the bedside table.
“W-we should stop.” You breathed, knowing he had to take the call judging by the look on his face. “No. No, just lay there and take it, pretty girl. I’m gonna settle this once and for all.” He murmured. Before you could object, he was swiping to answer the call. “I don’t appreciate being ignored.” The male on the other end of the phone huffed. Just hearing his slimy voice had Spencer cringing. Using his shoulder to hold the phone up to his ear, he let out a soft breath. His hips thrusted into you at a faster speed, your lip tucked between your teeth as you really did try to keep quiet.
“She’s busy but I can take a message.” Spencer answered as if he wasn’t jackhammering you into the mattress right now, whines and moans slipping from your lips as you couldn’t hold them back anymore. “Who is this?” The officer asked, now his annoyance being clear as day. “Spencer!” You gasped out, answering his question without even being aware of it.
“You heard her. Tell the nice man on the phone who has the pleasure of fucking you.” Spencer grunted, making you red in the face as you gripped his upper arms. “You!”
“My name, baby. Tell him who gets to take you home every night.”
“Spencer!” You panted, head tossed back as he was pounding into your sweet spot.
“Now. If you’ll excuse me, I have important matters to attend to. I hope you get the hint.” He murmured.
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buckyalpine · 9 months
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Pick Me
Bucky x reader 
The new recruit has her eyes set of a certain set of super soldiers. Especially your super soldier. 
warnings: jealously, Angsty bangsty, but also so fluffy fluffy and smutty, clueless Bucky, he really means no harm, go easy on him.
A/n - editing to add: when I first started writing this I loved the concept and wrote a large chunk but then I left it for months cause I struggled to actually finish writing it. This wasn’t even the original ending I had planned but I just wanted to finish it so yes Bucky should’ve done way more, pretend there was a time jump where he does a better job with earning forgiveness 🥲
-
“Everyone, meet Nicole, our newest recruit for the field agent training program” Tony walked into the common room where you were sprawled out on the couch with Nat, Sam and Wanda while a young woman walking confidently behind him. “She’s going to be staying with us for a couple of months to train before she goes onto the the field” Tony turned back to her, bringing her to his side. 
“I’m sure you know everyone but let me introduce you to them anyway. This is the very Natasha, Wanda, Sam and y/n” 
“Hey Nicole” You gave her a warm smile, happy to welcome her while everyone else also got up to greet her. “Nice to meet you” 
“Oh, ew, just call me Nic! I don’t really go by Nicole” She scrunched her face at the sound of her full name, her eyes scanning the room, clearly looking for someone. “Don’t suppose the very Captain America and Sergeant Barnes are here?” 
The hopeful uptick in her voice made it clear that’s who she’d been searching for. Right on cue, the two super soldiers walked into the living room on their way to the kitchen after a morning run. 
“Speak of the devils and I do mean devils” Tony snorted beckoning the men to meet the new recruit. “Rogers, Barnes, this is Nicole, preferably Nic” 
“Hello handsome” She gave Bucky a bashful smile before turning to Steve and batting her lashes, “and handsome” 
“Nice to meet you” Steve reddened at the way she gripped onto his hand before slinking over to the brunette, purposely sticking out her left hand so he’d shake with his metal one. “And you Sergeant” 
Bucky gave her a smile and quick shake, excusing himself to get some water while Steve quickly trailed behind him. Tony went on to take her to her room which was on the same floor as yours, all the other spare rooms occupied by a few others who had already started training. Nicole returned to the living room moments later with sweats and a hoodie, her hair tied up, plopping down onto the sofa beside Sam. 
“Hey, were doing a girls night, movies, junk food, wine, you wanna join us?” Nat offered with a smile hoping to make the new recruit feel more welcome even though a part of her was wary. 
“It’s a lot of fun, I was just about to get some snacks for tonight, let me know what you like” You add with a smile, only to be met with a scoff.
“Mmm, hard pass on that, wine isn’t really my thing, thanks though” She gave the group a tight lipped smile before turning back to the two super soldiers who had also joined at some point, scrolling through phones they finally knew how to use. 
“What are you boys up to tonight” She threw them a smile while laying back on the couch and kicking her feet up, letting her hoodie ride up in the process. 
“Bucky and I were actually just going get in a work out, nothing much tonight” He said with a smile, not noticing the way Nicole’s eyes lit up. 
“Oh wow I actually haven’t been by the gym yet but I guess it’ll be where I spend most of my time for the program” 
“You could join us if you’d like, we can show you around” Bucky offered, also missing the smirk that crossed her face, only seeing her bounce right up with an enthusiastic nod. 
“Really? That would be great, I’d really appreciate it!” 
“Of course, anytime. We’re just about to head down soon” Bucky stretched as he got up, along with Steve, waiting for her to change before heading down. She got up and went off to her room while you picked at the skin on your fingers. You felt a pang of something at the pit of your stomach at Bucky’s offer but you knew he was just trying to make the girl feel like she was part of the team. He knew more about feeling left out than anyone else; of course he’d never want anyone else to feel the same way. 
Still.
Something was off.
You shook off the inkling of insecurity you felt, not wanting to over think his intentions. You and Bucky were not official yet but everyone knew there was tension and a clear unspoken dynamic between you both. It was just a matter of time. Unless he had his sights on the new girl...
No.
He wouldn’t do that. 
Right?
*****
“She’s getting really comfortable around those two” Nat cocked an eyebrow watching Nicole have a field day sparring with the two men, throwing herself onto Bucky in particular, giggling when he’d help correct her stance or catch her before she slipped. Every since she joined them at the gym, she made a point to only work out when they were both there, finding excuses when anyone else would offer to help her train. 
“I guess they are really experienced, so it makes sense...” Your voice trailed off, trying to reason why she was practically glued to their side, again ignoring the uneasiness you felt when Bucky picked her up with ease and set her back on her feet. 
“Uh-huh, we’re all experienced” Nat rolled her eyes, plastering on a fake smile when the three finished up on the sparring mat, making their way over to the both you. “You three have a good workout?” 
Steve blinked, noting the iciness In Nat’s voice though Nicole seemed unbothered. 
“They’re great, can’t beat having the two best soldiers train me” She drawled out, giving them a wink. Bucky couldn’t help the blush that spread to his cheeks, not used to being praised and you couldn’t help the jealously that started to gnaw at you again. 
No.
Relax. 
“Anytime, Nic” He shrugged while Nat retched internally, deciding to cut through that conversation before it went further. 
“You know, if you come by in the afternoons, Agent Hill hosts a great self-defense workshop for women, great way for you to do some networking as well” Nat gauged the way Nicole’s nose scrunched, shaking her head. 
“Women’s workshop, sound’s like a drama fest waiting to happen, honestly most of my friends are guys, makes life easier, thanks though” her eyes didn’t leave the brunette, placing herself perfectly between both soldiers. “Besides, I’m pretty good with self-defense already, that's why I got these two helping me with a little extra” 
“Anyway! Y/n and I were talking about the event Stark is hosting later night. You’re both coming, right?” Nat looked at the two men before her, purposely avoiding the Nicole but it didn’t seem to matter. 
“Are you coming as well?” Bucky asked her, her eyes lighting up again, quickly recomposing herself after. “You could meet a few of the other agents too, get to know some more people” 
“Uh sure, I could come by for a bit” She shrugged, coming off as indifferent while shaking with excitement on the inside. “Thanks, Sarge” 
You sucked in a breath at the name she kept calling him, always dropping a suggestive tone in her voice. Or maybe you were over thinking it. It was perfectly plausible she was just being nice to the person who was making an effort to make her feel welcomed. Maybe she had bad experiences in other places that made her wary of women, hence why she only stuck to all the guys on the team. You tried to wrack you brain for answers that would make you feel a little better but came up short. 
But you didn’t want to be petty. 
You were more mature than this. 
“We have plenty of dresses if you want to come by and get ready together” You offered again, mustering a smile, making a final attempt to befriend the new recruit but she didn’t even look your way, fully focused on the brunette. 
“Uh- not really the dresses and heels type. I’m more of a sneakers girl to be honest” She tossed her pony tail over her shoulder, missing the way Nat’s eyes nearly rolled out of her head while you nodded, watching her sway her hips as she walked off. “I’ll drag myself over if I’m feeling it” 
“Oh-okay, then we’ll just see you there!” You called after her while Nat dragged you off, uninterested in your constant attempts to be friendly. 
“C’mon, lets get you ready. I’m going to make you look so hot, Barnes ends up on his knees” The red head smirked while you squeaked, feeling your face heat up.  “We’re putting you in that red dress, the one that makes his pants feel too tight, don’t think I didn’t catch him adjusting himself the last time you wore it”
“Nat!” You hissed, hoping he didn’t hear, the both of you in a fit of giggles as you made your way to your room. “Oh my god” you hid your face while she dug through your closet, pulling out the tiny dress that hugged your body perfectly, the red color making you stand out in the best way possible. 
“Go shower while I get all the make up out, I’m tired of miss pick me trying to get a buy one get one free deal with those two” 
You snorted, hopping into the shower, letting the hot water destress your muscles, feeling a little more hopeful with the dress choice you were going with. Nat didn’t waste any time; as soon as you were out, your hair was styled, make up done and heels strapped. You knew you looked good when both Sam and Tony did a double take, letting their eyes shamelessly linger on you with low whistles. 
“Y’know if you’re done playing games with terminator, I’d be happy to take his place” Tony wiggled his eyebrows while you giggled, taking a seat on the plush couch of the lounge where everyone else sat. 
“What are you ladies drinking” Steve came over with a tray of drinks from the bar, already well aware of what each person liked to typically order. 
“I’m good with a beer” Nicole shrugged, rolling her eyes when you took the pink drink from the tray, “Ugh, I don’t know how you drink those, they’re so sweet, do you even taste anything at that point?”
You shrugged, quietly taking a sip of the raspberry lemonade while she gulped her beer, signaling for another after slamming her bottle down. 
“You guys took forever to get ready, this is why I can’t deal with makeup and dresses n’shit” she snorted, directing her comment mostly at you, “That’s a pretty bright color, I thought tonight was supposed to be lowkey?” 
“Well I think you ladies look beautiful” Thor boomed, not catching the snark in Nicole's voice, his smile wide and voice completely sincere. “Especially you, Lady y/n” 
“Thank you Thunder” You smiled, though the giddiness you felt initially had taken a second hit for the night. He beamed, setting down a bottle of Asgardian mead, searching for the two soldiers.  
“Alright, where are the two that need this” He looked around for Steve and Bucky, since they couldn’t get drunk off of regular alcohol. Bucky strode in clearly dressed to kill, in all black from head to toe. Steve joined his side, their faces lit up like it was Christmas day seeing the crystal decanter in the God’s hands. Bucky’s eyes flicked back to you, his breath hitching in his throat, seeing you in his favorite dress. 
“Fuck sweets, you look- 
“C’mon Sarge, how about a little competition” Nicole nudged Bucky, cutting off the trance he had on you, her shoulder pressing into his, biting her lip and eyeing the alcohol, “Let’s see how many shots we can do” 
“This might be a lot to handle doll” Bucky chuckled while you froze hearing what he called her. Her eyes lit up again, quickly glancing over to you, her eye brow quirking before leaning into him more. 
Since when did he call anyone else doll. 
You felt your stomach sink, taking another long sip of your drink instead, but nothing distracted you from the banter that was taking place before you. 
“Ugh, finee, I’ll stick to regular vodka, c’mon Buckyyy, lets gooo!” She practically clung off him waiting for him to pour shots, inches away from crawling into his lap as he grabbed the bottles. You couldn’t tell if the flush from his cheeks was from the alcohol or the constant giggles Nicole made whenever he spoke but either way, you didn’t want to watch any longer. 
“Where are you going” Nat grabbed your arm as you got up to leave, though you didn’t need to say anything for her to understand. Her green eyes glared at the tipsy solders who were now busy with a game of pool, surrounded by the rest of the team, Nicole practically crawling up Bucky’s legs each time it was his turn. “For fucks sake-
“They’re just having fun, don’t worry about it”  You stopped Nat before she stormed over, shaking your head. As much as you wanted to red head to have her way with any of the three at this point, you couldn't be bothered. You were not about to fight for Bucky’s attention; if he wanted to give it to you, he would...
Right? 
You thought things would go back to normal at some point. But it didn’t. Nicole made a point of training twice a day, anything to get her hands on the brunette. Anything to feel the cool metal of his hand on her. In fact she’d taken up most of Bucky’s time outside of just training, always finding ways to tag along with Steve as well, all while avoiding the rest of the team.
*****
“What's wrong sweets” Bucky could tell something was on your mind while he stroked your back, his body still warm from the way he took you apart at least 3 times before filling you up till you were dripping and soaking his sheets. He had finally gotten an afternoon off, tossing you over his shoulder when he found you in the kitchen, not letting you get a word in as he shut the door behind him. You wanted to argue back that he couldn’t just have access to you any time he felt like according to his convenience, but as soon as his soft lips were on you, you melted, turning into a moaning mess seconds later. 
“I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages” You shrugged, toying with the corner of Bucky’s blanket, starting to feel more like you were just a body to warm his bed than someone he actually wanted to be with. “We haven’t really hung out recently” 
You had let yourself relax into his hold only for him to curse under his breath a second later after he noticed the time. He shifted you off him, making his way over to the closet to pull over his jeans and Henley before scrambling around for his wallet and keys. 
“Bucky, what are you-
“Sorry doll, I forgot I promised to take Nicole to the corner diner, showing her around a little bit cause she’ll be staying for a few extra weeks”
Fantastic.
“You spend a lot of time with her” You didn’t want to come off as jealous, keeping your voice even, though you were close to tearing someone's head off. Bucky didn’t seem to notice, humming in agreement while sitting at the edge of the bed to pull on his socks.  
“Yeah, she’s fun!” Bucky said casually, which only made the weight in your stomach feel heavier. “She almost beat Steve in MarioKart, just when he thought he was unstoppable”
“Hm” You didn’t bother saying anything else while Bucky threw on his jacket, patting down himself to be sure he didn’t miss anything. He caught the way your face had fallen, his cool metal fingers slipping under your chin to tilt your face up. 
“How about we hang out after? Around 7, we’ll watch a movie together, okay? I’ll grab dinner for us. Promise doll” He kissed your forehead before jogging off, closing the door behind him.
You were ready by 6, too excited to wait till 7, having showered and changed into something comfy, laying out Bucky’s favorite snacks and adding a few more soft pillows to the bed. You knew it was still early so you didn’t mind lounging around for a bit, anxiously checking the time as it neared closer and closer to when he was supposed to show up. 
An hour later, it was 7. 
Then 7:30. 
And then 8.
By 9, you had left everything as is, blinking back the hot tears that wanted to spill, retreating back to your own room, not wanting to see him at all, even if he did have a good excuse for not showing up, which was highly unlikely. You shut the door, throwing on an oversized t-shirt and crawling into bed, burying yourself under the covers, no longer bothering to hold back the tears that began to soak your pillow. 
****
Bucky cocked his head curiously, seeing his bedroom door left ajar, wondering why it was open when he definitely closed it before leaving. As soon as he stepped in, his heart dropped to his stomach seeing the pillows that were propped up against the headboard, his favorite snacks piled on the fluffy blanket, your fuzzy bunny slippers left behind beside his bed. 
He cursed under his breath when he realized the time, remembering his promise to you, running straight to your room, only to find it closed with the lights turned off. He tried knocking only to be met with silence, carefully turning the handle and letting himself inside. 
“Doll?” He felt his heart break further seeing the small lump under a mountain of blankets, curled up into a ball “Oh, doll” He strode over, sitting at the edge of your bed, careful not to wake you if you were asleep, his hand gently tucking a strand of hair from your face. 
“What” Your voice cracked, hoping he’d think its from sleep and not the fact that you had been crying. 
“I’m so sorry sweets, we lost track of time, we went out to grab food and then Sam suggested we check out that new arcade just down the street” 
We were supposed to do that you thought to yourself, swallowing down the lump in your throat, refusing to let your emotions get the better of you. 
“And then Steve and Sam had to leave half way cause they had a mission early in the morning. Nicole wanted ice cream so we went by Carla’s before coming back-
“You took her to Carla's?” You cut Bucky off, your heart breaking further. That particular ice-cream shop always felt like something special you shared with Bucky, the place he took you to when neither of you could sleep. It was the place you shared your first kiss with him, the place where he said he felt something between the two of you. It’s not like you owned the store but it felt like the final straw, your resolve finally breaking. 
“Yeah, I-
“Just go Bucky” There wasn’t a hint of iciness in your voice; just disappointment and defeat, both far worse than you being angry. Bucky froze, pulling your blanket away from you, only for you to push his hand away, burying yourself further into the sheets. 
“Doll?”
“Don’t call me that” It was the indifference in your voice that left him hurt and confused, mouth opening and closing, “Please leave” 
“Sweets, I can make it up to you, I promise-” 
“It’s fine James” You shrugged, pulling the sheets higher up, not willing to speak anymore, knowing you’d burst into tears again if you did. Bucky reluctantly decided to let you sleep, figuring you’d hear him out the next day but no.
How wrong he was. 
You avoided him in the morning. 
And the day after that. 
Nearly a week had gone by and you didn’t spare him a second glance, always finding an excuse to evade him whenever he trailed behind you. It didn’t help that Nicole attempted to stay glued to his side, not giving him chance to get you alone. 
*****
“What’s with you” Sam watched Bucky slump down onto the sofa, where everyone else lounged around, his face sullen from a lack of sleep, grumpiness amplified because why were you avoiding him so much? 
“Y/n isn’t talking to me” He shrugged, while Nat glared at him. 
“I wonder why” the red head mumbled, rolling her eyes at his confusion. 
“When was the last time you guys spoke” Steve inquired, equally concerned about why you were ignoring his best friend. Bucky was the last person to share stories about his love life but at this point he was desperate. He recalled the events of the last time he spoke to you, promising a movie night, going out with Nicole, taking her for ice cream, running late, apologizing to you afterwards, where did he go wrong? 
“I didn’t mean to forget- 
“Bucky!” Nat slapped him upside the head while he yelped, looking at her with puppy eyes. 
“What did I do?”
“Barnes, you absolute doorknob, you took her to all the spots you take y/n to, you’ve been spending all your time making little miss I’m one of the guys feel comfortable, you’ve made y/n seem invisible and you’re wondering why she’s not talking to you?” Bucky blinked while Nat continued, her annoyance only growing when she saw a message from Nicole pop up on Bucky’s phone. 
“You treat Nicole like your girlfriend. Imagine some new guy joins us, makes a point of eye fucking y/n the entire time, finding ways to constantly flirt with her and touch her, you’d be fine with it? Imagine he avoids hanging out with the guys but makes all the time in the world to chase after anything with breasts. On top of that, how would you feel if y/n went out of her way to make said guy feel more welcomed when he clearly just wants to get into her pants. You’d be fine with it?!”
Bucky shook his head, though still not fully understanding because Nicole was just a friend, not someone he’d even be into. Plus, its not like she was into him like that, right? 
“But Nicole doesn’t want to-” Bucky started, shutting his mouth when Nat nearly hissed, staring at him while he did the mental math, “Nicole wants to get into my pants?” Bucky looked at Nat wide eyes, ducking the cushion she was about to whack at his face, all the pieces finally clicking together. He groaned, running a hand over his face, realization hitting him like a ton of bricks. Just as Sam and Steve were about to hum in agreement with Nat, she glared at them, their eyes growing wide.
“And you” Nat turned to glare at Steve, his shoulders slumping when he realized he wasn’t in the clear. He squeaked when Nat pulled his ear, giving it a squeeze, “What were you thinking. You didn’t once think it was weird she only trained with you two? Haven’t any of you noticed Nicole doesn’t hang out with any of us, Just you?” Nat waved her hand at the men that sat before her, their dumb stuck faces only adding to her annoyance. “Idiots” 
As much as Bucky wanted to hit his head onto a brick wall, he didn’t have time to waste, immediately springing up from the couch to look for you. He checked everywhere he could but you were nowhere to be found. He was so desperate, he found himself shuffling outside of Tony’s lab, hoping FRIDAY would give him your location. 
“You’re asking for a lot Barnes, y/n might add my name to the hit list if I tell you where she is” 
“Please” Bucky was ready to beg on his knees while the billionaire huffed, watching the former assassin look like a lovesick puppy. He cocked an eyebrow, noting the glassiness of Bucky’s eyes on his desperate face, nodding before calling for FRIDAY to look for you. “Also, I need another favor...” 
****
“Y/n, babygirl” He’d never felt such relief before, seeing you make your way to your room, coming back from your hiding spot from the roof, the scowl on your face clearly showing you weren’t trying to talk to anyone one your way over. 
“Oh, I’m babygirl now? Has doll now been reserved for Nicole” You couldn’t hold back the sneer in your voice, walking away faster, ignoring his calls. 
“Baby, please!”
No. 
“Baby, wait!” Bucky chased after you, not willing to let another day go by without you knowing exactly how he felt. He managed to get hold of your hand, gently tugging you towards his chest and spinning you till your back was against the wall, his chest nearly pressed to you. “Please, I-I need to talk to you, tell you how I feel” 
“There’s nothing to talk about”
“Yes there is” His voice was earnest, baby blues searching your downcast eyes, his finger tilting your chin up to look at him, “There’s so much to talk about, I adore you” 
“Do you also adore Nic?” You scoffed, while Bucky’s cheeks warmed with embarrassment, the pink spreading up to his ears.
“There’s no Nic or Nicole, theres just a y/n, my y/n, only you doll” You rolled your eyes at his response, trying to move away but Bucky wasn’t having any of it, keeping you pressed against him, “I’m sorry darling, I didn’t realize what she was doing or get her intentions. I thought she just wanted to get to know the team better”
“Wow” you huffed under your breath, wishing you had the space to flick the super soldiers forehead. 
“I know, I’m an idiot, and I’m an even bigger idiot for not making it clear I’m so utterly and desperately in love with you” Bucky bit his lip as soon as the words left his mouth, he’d said everything under the sun except those words before. But they were true and he’d kept it inside long enough. “I love you, I love you, fuck, I love you”
You squeaked in surprise when he scooped you up in his arms, tossing you over his shoulder, walking over to his bedroom, smiling when he felt your small fists hitting his back, your butt wiggling to be put back down. 
“Barnes, put me down, you can’t just say you love me and then carry me away like a complete ogre!” He set you down, kicking the door shut behind him before wrapping his arms around you tightly again, falling more in love with your irritated pouty face. 
“I love you sweet girl. God, I’m so in love with you”
“You’re an absolute idiot”
“An idiot who is in love” 
“You’re so cheesy” You willed yourself not to smile, ignoring the butterflies that fluttered at his words and love struck eyes. “you’re still a dick”
“I know. M’sorry angel, I didn’t realize what I was doing, I never wanted to hurt you. I should’ve known something was up when all she wanted to do was train 24/7 but I guess I misunderstood her intentions cause I didn’t see her as anything else. I’ve only ever had eyes for you baby, you have my heart. You always will” 
“Where is she right now anyway?” You melted into his chest, closing your eyes at the feeling of his lips pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Isn’t she supposed to be leaving soon?” Bucky didn’t respond, his hands starting to wander your body instead, slipping up your shirt, rubbing soft circles on your hips. Without warning, he picked you up again, tossing you on the bed and pouncing on you, peppering your face with kisses. 
“Bucky what are you doing” You giggled feeling his beard tickle your skin as he started to trail kisses down your neck. 
“I may have requested Tony to have her stay an extra night” Your face twisted in confusion at his words but the devious look on his face made your tummy flutter. 
“And he happily agreed because...”
“Because...?”
“I want her to hear how good I can make the girl I picked feel” Bucky smirked as he crawled off you, stripping his clothes off before tearing yours off immeitedly after. “M’not gonna waste another second, gotta let the whole compound know who my best girl is” 
****
“OH G-GOD J-JAMES FUUCCCKKK” 
“That’s it pretty princess, that’s it, cum on my dick baby, my good girl, fuck you’re so good to me, look at that, God you’re soaked baby”
“Jesus Christ” Nicole huffed, no longer able to ignore the moans coming from Bucky’s room while the rest of the team pretended to be none the wiser, your loud love making carrying all the way down the hall. Bucky happily disabled the sound proofing in his room before pushing his cock in as deep as it would go, railing you into the mattress. 
“Baby you look so pretty when you’re all stretched out like this, c’mon you can take more, spread those legs for me baby, open up, c’mon, lemme in” 
“HNG PleasepleasepleaseJames” 
“So perfect when you beg, cock’s all yours mama, m’all yours, go on and use me, that’s it, ride this dick, you own me” 
“Bucky, gonna-c-cum, gonna-cum!”
“Cum for me princess, God I love you” 
“You want a snack?”
“Nick?”
“Uh-Nicole?”
“Huh?” Nicole whipped her head around to where Steve was innocently holding out the bowl of popcorn, while Sam stood up to grab more snacks before the movie started. She stared at everyone surrounding her acting as if they couldn’t hear the way you were screaming your vocal chords raw, the super soldier moaning louder than you, “N-no, I’m fine”
Tony cocked an eyebrow at the way her jaw clenched, mindlessly scrolling through her phone while Bucky’s thrusts punctuated with each word. 
“Y’feel so. Damn. Good. baby, could spent my whole life like this making love to you” 
“Fuck, I love you James” 
“Ugh- they’re so loud” Nicole rolled her eyes again in hopes that someone would feel the same but all she got were blank stares back. 
“I mean, terminator is practically in love with her” Tony shrugged while the others nodded in agreement.
“They’re cute. It’s about time they made it official, don’t you think?” Nat asked sweetly staring directly at her while Steve tried to chime in as well, his cheeks burning hot pink between the sounds of skin slapping and moaning. 
“They sound so happy together” he stuttered out while Sam snorted, choking from laughter. 
“Oh God, oh god, fuck-Jamie-JAMIE” 
“Yup, real happy”
“I-I think I’m actually gonna call it at early night, stay at the recruiting center tonight instead” Nicole headed straight to the main doors without looking back, the rest of the team giving each other satisfied smirks. 
Bucky collapsed beside you, panting, his short locks clinging to his forehead, a thin sheet of sweat covering his body. He truthfully stopped caring about what Nicole could or couldn't hear half way through, meaning every single word he said as he took you apart over and over again. You giggled at his shy smile when he pulled you into his chest, pulling the sheets over you both, kissing your forehead. 
“I love you pretty girl. I love you so much” 
8K notes · View notes
reiderwriter · 7 months
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Little Angel
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Pairing: Spencer Reid × virgin!fem reader
Genre: SMUT, some fluff, a little tiny smidge of angst. MINORS DNI 18+
Summary: As the youngest and most innocent member of the BAU, they all take care of their little angel. When they find out just how innocent you are, though, one member takes his possession to the next level. You're his little angel, and he's determined to have you.
Warnings: loss of virginity, loss of innocence, degradation, pet names, oral sex, thigh riding, fingering, cum marking, love bites, Spencer is territorial and possessive, Dom! Spencer Reid, PinV sex, mentions breeding, but he pulls out.
A/N: We've reached Day 8 of kinktober! It's our second "long" fic, meaning there's a bit more plot to this, and the smut scene is longer too (WC is almost 7k!) I hope you love this one just as much as I did... The kinktober masterlist can be found here, and my regular masterlist is here too! If you want something specific, my requests are open ❤️
Your first three months with the BAU were a blur, and for good reason. Endless cases, back-to-back, interrupted only by the slight hint of a weekend or the ever possible death row interview. You were tired, stressed, and afraid to walk home alone at night, and absolutely satisfied. As far as you were concerned, it was all worth it to get these monsters off the streets, to help save their victims and to find out what made them tick. There was nothing else you'd rather be doing. 
The team had helped you settle in well, too. You'd joined the team after Alex Blake had left - she'd recommended you actually from the college seminars you'd taken with her. You were obviously lacking a bit of experience, so they took on two team members, and you and Kate Callahan had the great opportunity of both being the newbie. But you had a slight disadvantage of age, coming in as the youngest member of the team. You thought that might be why you'd settled in so well, in all honesty. 
Hotch and Rossi were both protective in a fatherly way. Hotch pushed you and Rossi encouraged you and that was everything you needed from them. A strong pat on the back at the end of a case and a "you did good, kid," and whatever hell they'd pushed you through, it was worth it. Morgan's tough love was brotherly, but he did a great job at getting you to relax on and off the case, reminding you to not take the work home. JJ and Kate were great mentors. It wasn't easy being women in the FBI, let alone the unit that specifically looked into some of the most misogynistic killings, rapes and abductions in the world. They both gave you tips about how to handle condescending officers, and JJ had held your hair back after you'd puked your guts up on a particularly harrowing day in the field. With Penelope, friendship was easy, and you loved talking to her about whatever hyperfixation you were on that week, loving that there was someone on your team that had filled their life with genuine joy in the face of so much horror. 
And Spencer. Honestly, you were beginning to think that you'd used Spencer as a human stuffed toy a bit too much. 
You don't know how it happened at first, just that after one of your first few cases, you'd been so elated to find a victim alive, safe but traumatised, that you'd thrown yourself into his arms the minute you got back to the precinct. 
"We did it, I thought she was going to be dead, Spencer but she isn't." Your head was pressed into his chest, you were almost surprised he even heard them, muffled as they were. If you weren't so elated, you'd have noticed the way he'd stiffened at your touch, panicking slightly before awkwardly wrapping his arms around you, too. But you pulled away before you could notice that he wasn't really used to any physical comfort, bouncing off to write up your case report. 
Spencer noticed, though. Noticed how the heat of your body made him feel comforted, the way his heart rate increased to 125 BPM from it's base rate and didn't fall back to normal for another half hour. He noticed that you smelt like jasmine and patchouli, and more importantly, he noticed that he didn't really care if you touched him, and that was new. 
It became a kind of ritual for you, finding him after a case and folding into his arms to celebrate. They were friendly hugs, after all, a sign that you'd been through hell together, and you'd made it through like avenging angels. They only lingered longer when the cases went badly. You turned to crying in his arms after you'd discovered the body of a dead street girl, Veronica, in pieces in the house of an unsub who'd committed suicide by cop moments earlier. 
"I told her she'd be safe if she talked to us, Reid. I told her we'd protect her, that I'd protect her." You were so hurt by that failure that he'd had to drive you home that night, holding your hand the entire way so you didn't feel so alone, left to fester in your guilt. 
The rest of the team had begun teasing you about the hugs, but you'd brushed them off. You hugged everyone else too, and you knew for a fact that Penelope hugged every member of the team, so there was nothing special going on between you and Spencer. No one had deigned to inform you of Spencer's germophobia and aversion to touch. 
"Gonna tell me what that's all about?" Morgan asked Spencer as you bounced away from a hug one day, leaving to remove your FBI vest. 
"What what's all about?" He replied coldly, turning away to remove his own vest, replacing it with his blazer. 
"What, you don't have a statistic for how many germs are passed between people during a hug, Kid, come on, you were practically smelling her hair." The older man's eyebrows raised in a question again, but Spencer continued to blow him off. 
"I hug people all the time, it's not a big deal." He shrugged. 
"It took you four years to return one of Penelope's hugs, and you still only do that on special occasions. That's not all the time." 
"Derek, just drop it. There's nothing going on, she just… She just does it sometimes." 
It was when you'd hugged him in the middle of the office, without a case to use as an excuse, that you noticed an underlying tension in the office. You were all celebrating, of course, Callahan had just announced her pregnancy, and you were all so happy for her. You'd heard the happy news and instantly turned and thrown yourself into Spencer's arms. Even you weren't sure why, not even questioning it until you saw the awkward glances on the other profilers' faces. You brushed it off by rushing to give each of them hugs, and running out in a mad flush, needing air, or water or something to get you out of what was looking more and more like an interrogation room. 
A few cases later, the entire team headed to O'Keefe's to celebrate. 
"To another case successfully solved," Morgan toasted, and you all joined him, lifting your glasses in triumph. 
"To the wonders of non-alcoholic beer," chimed in Kate, leaving you all laughing together. The booth was small, and as usual, you'd found yourself sat right in the arms of Spencer Reid. You hadn't intended it, honestly, having slightly avoided him recently, but you'd followed Penelope into her side of the circular table, and Reid had followed you. You were sat squished between them, your arms resting awkwardly on your lap between drinks. 
"Okay, a night of drinking is slightly boring without some games to spice things up, what do you say, hot chocolate?" Penelope said, addressing Morgan who was on her other side. 
"I'm all ears, baby girl. What were you thinking?" 
"How about twenty questions? We already know a lot about each other, let's see what we don't know?" Kate suggested, thriving off of the knowledge that as the sole sober member present, she'd hold all the cards tomorrow. 
"What, how is asking questions a game?" Reid questioned jokingly from beside you. "That's just an interrogation or a therapy session, there's no winner or loser."  
Already slightly buzzing from your drink, you turned to him and out your fingers in his lips, shushing him. 
"No time for logic in matters of the bottle, Spencer. Let's play." He pulled your fingers off him, but nodded, holding them in his grip still as you turned back to the table. 
"I'll start! JJ, are you and Will thinking of having more baby LaMontagne's?" Penelope jumped at the chance to probe her teammate, and you laughed at her enthusiasm. 
"There have been discussions, but I'll not confirm or deny yet." JJ said, taking a sip of her drink as she slyly avoided a direct answer. 
"I always forget why you were so good with the press, Miss No Answers. Okay, your turn to ask a question." 
"Okay, Morgan. Are you thinking of popping the question to Savannah anytime soon?" 
"Did she send you?" He laughed and took a drink. "If I do, she'll be the first to know." 
The game went back and forth like this for a few rounds before Penelope turned the spotlight back to you. 
"Okay, Y/N. You were a college student recently, I know you've got some wild stories. Where's the craziest place you've ever done it?" You knew Penelope didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. She was just an open person. 
But you shifted in your seat nonetheless, trying to figure out if you could answer or even if you would. Your tongue was a bit looser than you expected though, because before you could even finish thinking you just blurted it out. 
"Nowhere." 
The others blinked at you slightly before Penelope dived in with another question. 
"Is that Nowhere, Oaklahoma, or you're just not having sex in crazy places?" 
"No. I'm not… I'm not having sex. Period. Never have." You felt yourself shrink as the other members of the team awkwardly apologised for probing you so much. Really it wasn't that big of a deal, and it wasn't as if you were saving it for religious or moral reasons. But you'd not been the most popular teenager, and you'd started studying serial killers and sociopaths so early that you really hadn't wanted to get so intimate with someone else like that. 
Unbeknownst to you, Spencer's grip on his own drink had tightened ever so slightly, his heart race had picked up again, and suddenly the hand that was holding yours suddenly let you go, quietly dropping your fingers like they were glowing cinders, and he was dripping in gasoline, waiting to ignite. 
Lust. He felt sick with himself for the images that were suddenly flashing through his mind now that he knew you'd never been held in that way, trying not to fantasise about you underneath him, holding him, begging him, feeling all of him. He took another swig of his drink and politely excused himself to get another as he let himself catch some air, as the sudden realization that he wanted you - and had wanted you for quite some time now - finally hit him.
The next couple of weeks were normal, and you were thankful to have that discussion behind you. No one treated you differently, acted like you were more of a child than before, asked you how your dating life was or set you up on blind dates, which was really refreshing actually. You'd let some friends know previously, and that's all they'd done, surprised that you could live ignorant to wonders of sex without shrivelling up and dying. 
The only thing that was different was Spencer. And that wasn't really difference so much as growing more comfortable with each other. He'd rest his hand on the small of your back now in support sometimes, or have a hand slung over the back of your chair when sitting together. He was constantly at your side, especially if you were around male suspects or officers who'd taken a bit of a ballsy approach. 
You liked it, probably a bit too much. You gravitated towards him in a room filled with people, and found yourself hugging him more often, when you left a room, when you entered one, when he looked like he needed it. Which, recently, was all the time. A month went by with this increased comfort level, and soon you found yourself feeling wrong if his hands weren't on you. 
He stood close to you all the time, and you noticed the stares you were getting from everyone else. A few officers who'd approach you would apologise to him when they noticed him at your back, hand on your hip as he pulled you away. 
After one case, you could even swear that you felt more than him than you were expecting. He'd moved away slightly in between one of your hugs, but you'd pulled his arms back around you and stepped closer, pressing your back against his chest, letting your head rest on his arms. Something hard and long wedged up against your ass, and in a split second he was pulling away before you could ask him about it. He excused himself, and you felt your body burn up. It was Spencer, it was just Spencer and that wasn't because of you, it was some other reason. 
Spencer didn't know what he was doing. He grew more possessive over you by the day, and he'd honestly nearly bitten the head off an officer who asked him for your number. 
"Sorry, she doesn't have a phone." 
"But I saw her with one earlier. Look I get it she's FBI, and you guys are-" 
"Okay, so she's not interested."
"Hey, why don't you let her decide that wise guy?" 
"Oh sure, get angry I'm sure she'd love that. She's not interested, she has me." He couldn't help himself from getting in the officers face at that, and Morgan had to pull him back from the edge. 
"Wow, wow, hey, calm down." The officer stormed out, and he felt triumphant for only a second before Morgan rounded on him. 
"Whatever this thing you've got going on, Spencer, you need to get it out of your system as soon as possible." His voice was low and stern, throwing a glance over his shoulder to where you were sitting, staring confusedly through the glass at Spencer, whose eyes refused to move from your own. 
" I just wanted him to back off, she doesn't like him like that."
"No, you wanted him to back off because you've marked her like some animal marking its territory. She's not your prey, Spencer, she's our team member, now you're gonna have to get your act together and leave her alone, because we've got work to do." 
Sighing and throwing his hands through his hair again, he finally looked away from you and gathered his breath. He wanted to stop this too, this horrible perverted feeling of needing his hands on you, wanting to possess you day and night. To protect you. He just wasn't sure if he was strong enough to do that. 
The next time you all went to O'Keefe's he certainly tried. You expected him to follow you into the booth again - he didn't, sitting opposite you next to JJ. You expected him to talk to you or look at you for more than a second at a time - he didn't, avoiding most conversations entirely and keeping his eyes fixed on the bar. You certainly expected him to still be sat at the table when you returned from the bathroom, ready to slip into the seat beside him, force him to talk to you. Instead he was gone, and you scanned the rest of the bar trying to locate him. 
Something green and vile jumped you when you finally locked onto him, stood at the bar, surrounded by other women. Surrounded was maybe an exaggeration, as there were really only two of them, but they were practically draping themselves over him, and for some reason that set something alight inside of you. 
You watched them for a moment, how one of them trailed a hand up his arm as he shuddered away from their touch, the other pressing herself against the bar so her chest pushed up dramatically. The green bile in your throat carried your feet forwards, and before you knew it, you were clearing it from your throat to grab their attentions. 
"Spencer, there you are!" You brightened your tone specifically, as you locked eyes with his panicked ones. The two girls looked you up and down as you moved closer, brushing past them to climb up right into his lap on the barstool, pulling his arm around you as you pressed your ass into his crotch. 
"Are you going to introduce me to your new friends?" The smile didn't reach your eyes as you let your back rest against his chest comfortably, watching the women to see their reactions. The one touching him pulled her arm back instantly, and the other readjusted her dress before they both left silently, carrying their glasses back to wherever they came from. 
You watched them leave a little triumphantly before the green faded, and you realised what you had done. 
"Y/N…?" His voice was hesitant in your ear, and you shivered slightly before pushing off of him. 
"I'm so sorry, Spence, it just- it… looked like you were hard." You panicked again, pushing closer to him. "No, like you were in a hard situation, not that you were," your hand accidentally dropped to his crotch as you spoke your final words: "Hard."
He twitched beneath you as you finally looked down to where your hand was, as his mouth opened to say something. 
"Y/N…" was all you heard before you turned around, and fast walked to the entrance, picking your bag up quickly on the way, and then sprinted the second the cold air hit your face. 
You cursed yourself inwardly as you ran the three blocks more to your apartment, thankful that you were at least in walking (or apparently running) distance. What the hell had you been thinking? Practically sexually harassing one of your coworkers like that, grabbing his dick, albeit accidentally. 
You slammed your door shut behind you, leaning against it and sliding to the floor as you finally accepted that whatever this was with Reid, it wasn't friendship for you anymore. And you weren't sure if it had ever been. 
With your head between your legs, arms wrapped tightly around yourself, you started replaying each moment with him, each touch from the very first. How even the memory of a brush past you could excite a fire in your heart, a heat between your legs growing by the second. 
You wanted to crawl pathetically into bed and not think about him until the next morning at work,  but fate, or Doctor Spencer Reid, had other plans. 
The knock at your door was sudden and incessant, the banging starting loud, and staying consistent until you tentatively pulled it open. 
He was stood there, chest heaving, looking down at you, sweat coating his forehead. 
"Can I… Come in?" He asked, and you nodded, too stunned at his sudden appearance to tell if this was real or just your fantasy becoming a little too realistic. 
He thanked you for letting him inside, and you showed him inside, guiding him to he couch, where you took a seat opposite him. 
"I wanted to make sure you were okay, you left in a rush and…" He trailed off, eyes flicking down to your lips. His Adam's apple bobbed with his swallow, and you watched it yourself, trying to avoid meeting his eyes, as if you were a schoolgirl about to get in trouble with a disappointed teacher. 
"I'm okay." 
"Okay, that's great, that's… Great." His breaths caught up to him, and he took another deep breath and a swallow before continuing. "How about we continue that game from last time. Twenty questions?" 
You'd do anything to stop him walking out of that door, but you felt too shy to touch him again, even in the friendly ways you were used to, so you eagerly accepted. 
"Yes, that… That sounds fun, thank you." 
"Okay. Question one. Do you know why I'm here?" He asks as he shifts closer to you, still not touching, but at a proximity where it would be natural to accidentally brush against one another. 
"N-No. But I might have an idea." He nodded at your response before moving on to his next question. 
"Question two. Are you a virgin?" He didn't trip or stumble over the words, pushing them out slowly and delicately so as not to offend. 
"Yes." The lump in your throat was thick, almost as if he'd put something there that you couldn't help but choke on. 
"Question three. Do you want to remain a virgin?" 
You shook your head no, following it with your voice seconds later as he stood up from his seat, putting some distance between you. 
"Question four. Do you feel intoxicated or drunk right now?" He held himself still as you sat on the very edge of your chair, desperate to feel his hands on you now. 
"No, I only had one sip at the bar before…" He held up a hand to silence you, and you did. 
Question five. Answer me honestly. Do you like it when I touch you?" 
"Yes." Your breath was a whisper, but it was breathy, sounding almost pornographic in your neediness. 
"Question six. Do you like it when other people touch you?" 
"Do you?" His head snapped back to yours, and you froze under his gaze. "Not as much." You answered and relaxed again, pouting slightly at his lack of answer. 
"Question seven. Do you like me touching other people?" He took a step closer to you again with this question, but you continued pouting as you shook your head. 
"No. I don't." His lips quirked upwards before he could stop them, but he gathered himself together again. 
"Question eight. Do you want me to leave?" You met his eyes at that question, taking one good, hard, long look at him. You noted the tensed jaw, the clenched fists, his stiff body language, trailing your eyes over him before looking him directly in the eyes. 
"No." You let the word hang on your tongue, pulling it out a bit longer than was necessary as you watched him take in a shaky breath. 
"Question nine. Do you want me to come over there and kiss you?" 
"God, yes." He was on you in seconds, restraints gone, throwing himself back at you as his lips collided with your own. Virgin you may be, but you'd kissed men before, and it had been nothing like this. 
His hands trailed up to your hair, tipping your head back slightly so he could gain better access. He bit your lip and thrust his tongue into your mouth when you gasped, so eager to consume every part of you whole. 
You'd never felt like this before. 
He pulled away, and you tried desperately to chase his lips, even as your lungs begged you to stop. 
"Last question," he whispered in the space between you, holding the sides of your face at a distance so neither of you could be tempted to dive in for a second kiss, or a third, or fourth. "Do you want me to fuck you?" You whimpered at his words, nodding furiously as you tried to lunge at him again, but he held you firm. 
"I need you to say your answer, baby. I need to hear your consent, okay?" You nod again and open your mouth, eyes never leaving his lips as you moan out a definitive "yes."
Instead of letting your lips fall against his again, he lunges for you, grabbing your legs and hauling you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style all the way back to your bedroom. 
"Gonna do it right," he mutters to himself as he throws you down on the bed, pulling back to take off his jacket and unbutton the cuffs on his shirt, rolling the sleeves up meticulously. 
"I'm going to take care of you, Y/N, okay?" You nod at him and flush, suddenly feeling the strength of his need for you as he holds himself back. He puts his hands on you again, gently coaxing your legs apart, pushing your skirt up over your hips. Reflexively, you move your hands over yourself, covering your sensitive places with your hands. 
"Don't cover yourself." His voice is strong, deep, as he orders you, and you let your arms drop back to your side. He traces his hands up and down your legs, almost as if he were memorising every inch of your skin, how you felt under his hands. 
His hands make their way up to your panties, and you watch with baited breath as he moves you, pulling your hips up so he can let them fall down. The lace material tickles you as he pushes them past your thighs, over your knees and finally off your legs entirely, balling them up and putting them in his pocket. 
"I'm going to touch you now, okay?" He asks it like a question, but he doesn't wait for your answer, unable to hold himself back before diving straight between your legs, so desperate to taste you that he's deaf to everything else. 
His tongue connects with your sensitive area first, tracing up and down at a steady pace as his legs half-heartedly push your legs open. It's almost as if he's enjoying the pressure of your legs wrapped around him, suffocating between your thighs as he feels your pleasure build, and build. 
Eventually he pushes your hips further apart, letting himself push his face into even more of you, his tongue entering your hole as he begins fucking it in and out of you, fingers coming back up to your clit to keep up the pressure there. 
"Spencer, please, please, fuck." 
"I love it when you beg for me like a needy little slut," he whispers, holding your legs apart as he looked up at you, face slick with your arousal. Your mouth drops wide at his words, and he immediately begins to retract them. 
"I'm sorry, Y/N, if that was too far, I just got caught up -" 
"I liked it." You said, quieting him as you spread your legs a bit further apart, begging for him to continue. He smiled and dived right back in, bringing his other hand up under your dress, all the way to your chest as you kept your legs open yourself. 
He sucked your clit into his mouth, lapping up all the juices you were releasing as you moaned underneath him, bucking into his face at the memory of his degradation. 
You were a needy little slut, and you needed him to make you cum. He was more than happy to oblige. 
He kept you there for what felt like forever, drinking you in for as long as he could. You orgasmed twice before he finished, completely overstimulated by the way he was desperately fucking you with his mouth. 
He was obsessed with you, with your scent, your taste, with being the first ever person to ever touch you like this, to fuck you, to make you feel so good. Without him even realising, you're pushed to the brink for a second time, shuddering under the heat of his mouth as he drinks you in. 
He finally pulls his head up again, coming up for air as you're twitching under him. 
"Perfect, baby, so perfect for me." His lips fall down to your own, and suddenly you're tasting yourself on his tongue. It's hypnotising, and despite the pleasure you've just received, you need more, desperate to feel him on you again. 
When he pulls his mouth away, he replaces himself with his fingers, pushing them into your mouth. 
"Suck," he says and you listen, as he watches the way you lick yourself off of him. 
He unzips your dress with his free hand, carefully pulling your arms out of the sleeves and pushing your dress off your body. You trace your tongue around every ridge of his fingers, leaving no inch undiscovered. He moved you to pull the dress of, and you graciously followed, letting him do whatever he wanted to you. 
"Nice little slut, tasting herself on my fingers?" He whispered when you were finally bare, pulling his fingers from your mouth, letting the trail of spit hang between you as you moaned. 
He removed himself from over you, and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. 
"Come here. Come and sit on my lap." 
You cautiously followed his directions. You'd thought that he'd fuck you then, after spending so long getting you ready, but apart from his tie, which he was in the middle of discarding as you crawled over to him, he hadn't derobed any further. 
"That's it baby, come and sit yourself down right here." He pat his thigh and you crawled over, lowering yourself down onto his clothed leg. 
"What now, Spencer?" You stuttered the words out, heart beating as you awaited his instructions. 
"Now, I want you to rock your hips back and forth. Just like this." He grabbed your hips and started moving you against his leg, pushing you down to grind into him. 
"Spencer, wait, I don't know-" 
"I do. I know you can do it, so please try. For me." You pulled you in for a kiss, and then removed his hands from you, leaving you to rock against his thigh. 
You were unsure of the movements at first, moving slowly as you dragged your aching cunt up and down the top of his pants, watching as you saw the wet patch you were making. You moaned with each movement, growing faster and more confident as you continued. 
"That's it baby, use me to get yourself off, okay? Let me see you." He whispered in your ears, pushing your sweat-slicked hair ou of your face, holding it up for you. 
"Spencer please," you don't even know what you're asking for as you beg him, feeling that familiar bubble in your stomach grow. 
"No, you can do it. You look so beautiful like this, Y/N, so desperate for my cock, huh?" You start trying to unbutton his shirt, desperate to see more of him, to feel more of his bare skin on your own. But he stops your hands and holds them against his chest. 
"You need to ask nicely first, before trying to undress me like a needy little whore." The words should sound violent, should humiliate you, but his voice is so soft you simply move faster, moaning and desperate to cum one more time. 
"Fuck, Spencer, I'm gonna… I'm gonna…" 
"No, you're not." Before you finish, he pulls you off his leg, hauling your body back onto the bed, and laying you back down on your back. You moan in disapproval, so frustrated with the lack of release that you feel tears prick the corners of your eyes. 
"Don't cry, baby. I'll give you what you want soon." He practically rips his clothes off, pulling his vest over his head, stumbling over each button and removing his belt and pants before climbing over to you. His cock finally free you take your first glance at it. 
You'd never entirely been sure how it was that the male appendage fit inside something as small as your pussy, and you were doubly unsure about how Spencer's was ever going to fit inside you. You stared at it wide eyed, as you took in the length, the girth, and the heat of it as he stroked it in one hands, pushing on top of you. 
He let go of it as soon as he was between your legs, letting it fall onto your stomach as he crawled between your legs. He trailed a finger over your lower abdomen just around where his cock was twitching against you as his other hand came up to stroke your hair. 
"You look worried, Y/N, what's wrong?" 
"Will it, um, will it fit?" You asked, knowing how cliché you sounded. 
"We've spent the last thirty-seven minutes loosening you up with foreplay. It should fit, but I can't promise it won't hurt."
"Right, if my hymen is still intact you have to…" 
"That's right. And then it's going to reach all the way in you to here," with each word, he stepped his fingers up from your clit to where the tip of his dick sat on your stomach, letting you come to terms with exactly how full you were about to be. 
"I'm going to fill you, and you're going to be mine, and I'm going to be yours. My sweet angel." He stroked your face, catching his thumb on your lips on the way down, tempted to thrust it into your mouth again, to see just how much of a whore you could be, given the chance. 
Instead, he lined himself up with your dripping core, and, making sure one last time that this is what you wanted, slowly pushed in. 
It was uncomfortable at first, having something so wholly alien inside of you, you weren't sure how to react. You wrapped your arms around him, digging your nails in, deep, as he pushed in further. 
"Y/N, I need to move more now, and it's going to hurt a little, you just have to trust me, okay?" He kissed the top of your head, but you were so lost in the sensations to answer. With one swift jerk of his hips, he pushed through your hymen, and fully sheathed himself inside of you. He pressed small kisses everywhere on your face, while whispering to you how beautiful you were. 
"You're doing so good for me angel, I'm going to take care of you. Going to make you feel so much better than this. You're so beautiful." His lips were distractingly sweet, as were his words, and soon you found yourself relaxing into him, the sharp pain of earlier fading to an electric buzz inside of you. 
You jerked your hips up to meet his, and with that, he knew you were ready. From his words, you'd assumed that he'd move slowly in you. But with one final lingering kiss to your lips, he lifted his chest up, pinned your legs tightly down, and started thrusting hard and fast. 
"Sorry, just couldn't help myself baby. Needed to see you looking ruined underneath me." Moans spilled out of your mouth with his every movement, and the orgasm you'd built up earlier hit you like a ton of bricks, blackness hazing over your eyes as they rolled back in your head. 
"Fuck, fuck, Spencer, don't stop!" You screamed at the top of your lungs, unable to control your pitch or volume as he slammed into you desperately. He was so turned on by the sight of you beneath him, so proud of having fucked away your virginity, to have given you your very first penetrative orgasm that he wouldn't have heard anything that came out of your mouth. 
His eyes were fixated at the place between you, where you joined, where he was entering you, defiling you, claiming you, using you, breeding you. 
He knew he wouldn't cum inside of you, not the first time, but it was tempting. Instead, he chose to move his lips back to your skin. He marked you with love bites and hickeys across your neck, chest and shoulders as you moaned with every roll of his hips, shuddering on his cock. He was close. And seeing you like this, displaying all the signs that you were his and his only, he finally lost it. 
Pulling his dick out of you, he stroked it through his release, spraying his seed over the parts of your skin he hadn't bruised with love. Your stomach, your breasts, hell, one spurt even landed dangerously close to your lips, he was everywhere. You. Were. His. 
He fell beside you, panting for a few moments as you finally cracked your eyes back open, realising what the two of you had just done. You wiped the cum from your face with a stray finger, staring at it for a second before licking it off your finger. 
"As hot as that was, I think we should get you cleaned up properly, angel." He spends forever cleaning you up, carrying you to the bathroom, washing your entire body with hot water and a fresh cloth, running you a hot bath to relax your muscles. You snuggle into his chest at some point in the bath, relaxing so much into him, that you drift off to sleep. 
You feel him carry you to bed, semi-conscious, tucking you in and climbing in next to you. He holds you through the night, the way he holds you after your bad cases. He holds you until he doesn't. 
You're blindsided by the cold bed the next morning. You knew he would be there, you'd felt him inside you and next to you, and you'd needed his warmth, but he was gone. You looked for him in every other part of your home, looked for a note or an explanation, but there wasn't one. 
Through tears, you got ready for work, ready to face him and make him answer why he was suddenly gone. You wanted him to apologise, especially since he'd marked you so badly the night before you looked like a car crash victim from the neck down. 
Dark lavender blossomed along your collar bones as you looked at yourself in the mirror, trailing a finger along every place that he touched the night before. 
"How could you be so stupid?" You cursed yourself. If you'd have listened to what he was saying last night, really listened, you'd have known he wasn't going to be here in the morning. He wanted to ruin you, to possess you, to take away your virginity, and he'd done just that. 
You almost wanted to keep the bruises on display going into work, to make him confront the pain he caused you by leaving. In the end, it was the inevitable stares from everyone else that convinced you otherwise. You wouldn't give him the satisfaction. 
You pushed through the doors to the bullpen and didn't bother putting your bag down before you started scanning the room for him. 
"Where's Spencer?" You practically shouted the words at Morgan, unable to hold back your anger. 
"Y/N, what's wrong?" 
"Where is he?" You demand, and there must be something in your eyes that speaks to your devastation because Morgan shuts up and just points to the top of the stairs, where Spencer is exiting Hotch's office without a care in the world. 
You don't realise that something is tears until you're beating a hand against his chest in frustration as they spill down your face. 
"Where were you?" You demand, sobbing into his chest, as he pulls your hands away. The entire office is watching your commotion, but you don't care, you're not letting him move you out of the way. 
"Y/N, I need you to sign this." His voice is calm, and you hate him for that. That he can stay so neutral when he's just broken your heart. 
"No, not until you tell me why you left." 
"Sign the papers, Y/N, trust me." He pulls your chin up so you can look him in the eye, and you catch a glimpse of the man who has been holding you, comforting you for the last four months. You snatch the pen from him and sign the papers, thrusting them back at him with a scowl. 
He smiles as he looks down at them, placing them back on his desk before pulling you in for a long, deep kiss. You're shocked at first, but you melt into it, pulling him closer so he can't leave again. 
"I'm sorry. I had to come into the office to declare our relationship, Morgan sometimes tells me I have a one track mind, and when I woke up this morning, the one thing I wanted to do was get it in writing that you were mine." 
Your push the tears out of his face, and attempt to pull him down for another kiss. You don't get the chance, as the sound of several throats clearing around you burst your bubble. 
"Public space, no canoodling." Rossi shouts down at you from the balcony, a soft smirk on his face. 
Penelope runs in from her office, and stares wide-eyed at the lack of space between the two of you. "You! And you! Security cameras….. You!"
"Now, I'm sure there's a story here, but from the state of our little angel's neck here, I'm sure I don't want to hear it." Derek laughs, smacking Spencer on the back in praise as he walks up the stairs to the meeting room. 
You slap a hand over your neck, trying to pull the turtleneck further up to hide the mark you evidently missed. 
"She's my angel, now." Spencer calls up to him. "I have the paperwork to prove it."  
8K notes · View notes
qwimchii · 7 months
Note
i was hoping to put forward a request, if that’s okay? 👉🏻👈🏻 angst (or hurt/comfort?) and smut with ghost? and i’m totally not projecting here but — reader has a hard time finishing, either by themselves or with someone? and when they’re with someone, they get so worried about taking too long and not being able to finish or even feeling good and they apologize for taking too long and it dissolves into them crying and apologizing more and mentioning how they think they’re broken and there’s something wrong with them and it kinda makes them think ghost will leave for someone else because that’s what everyone else has done and basically just ghost being soft and sweet and understanding and taking his time with reassurance and praise and yeah… gonna go hide now 🥲
𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 — 𝘚𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘙𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘺
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𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘹 𝘤𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘯!𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳
𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 — 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘰𝘺𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘣𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘸𝘤 — 5k
𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦 — 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵
𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴/𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 — 𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘭𝘰𝘵, 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘥𝘰𝘮!𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵, 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬, 𝘤𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘴, 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘵 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺, 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵/𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵, 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯, 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘱𝘦𝘵 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥…
note: omllllll!!!! 💞 i am so sorry for taking so long to write this request but this is so sweet and cute 😭 thank you sm for requesting!! ><
pt 2, pt 3
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Simon Riley had been your boyfriend for maybe a month now. or maybe two weeks. or maybe three months, you decided finally, sipping your water with closed eyes, willing the frustrated bounce of your knee to settle.
of course, picking your head up and looking at the entrance of the restaurant one last time, that frustration redoubled, and you watched your knee bounce with a mind of its own.
setting the drink back on its coaster, you drew random patterns into the floral tablecloth with a pout. Simon had chosen this restaurant. Simon had initiated communication with you—mindblowing as it was—just last night when you were scrolling through instagram in bed. 
the notification had ballooned over a post of an old friend from college traveling in europe, and immediately, you had squealed, pressing your phone to your chest to stop the race of your thrumming heart. you made yourself count out two minutes—at least two, before you responded.
— Dinner tmrw at the diner on 6th ave?
— sure!! good to hear from you :))
— what time??
— 7.
it was curt, it was short, it was sweet, but it gave you all the motivation you needed to power through the day and weasel your way into the diner, earlier to the occasion than usual. now, it was half past seven. now, you were playing with the tablecloth of the booth and feeling stupid and sorry for yourself.
stupid because you had sorely missed Simon since he went radio silent for over a month. sorry for yourself because you had thought you were at least close enough for him to text you beforehand.
definitively, you knew you had met the brit five months ago when he moved into the empty apartment adjacent to your own. he crowded every entrance he stood in, so massive and hulking when the elevator doors that you startled with a squeak, dropping the cardboard box and all the items scattering out over the carpet floor.
you had flushed with embarrassment, whole body heating up as you scrambled to stuff all the items back into the box with a string of apologies. he had dropped to your side without a word, putting back a pair of socks, your old band t-shirt from high school, and tennis shoes that had gone gray with discoloration. he hadn’t even bothered to one-over your personal items, but you were scrambling for an explanation anyway.
“donations for vets,” you said with nervous laughter. “i donate every year.”
“vets?” he reiterated, and you looked up into his face, eyeing the black surgical mask on his face carefully, brown eyes a murky kind of gray-ish beneath blonde eyebrows and his hood drawn up above that. 
“mhmm,” you squeaked, suddenly wary of the stranger in front of you.
when he said nothing more, you asked him, “any veterans in the family?”
then he just stared at you and you blushed, feeling stupid for saying anything at all but—
“my grandfather,” he said slowly. “and my great grandfather.”
“nice,” you choked out, unsure what to say as you searched the carpet of the last of your remnants.
then, he added, “i’m in the military as well.”
just when you were about to bolt, intimidated by the sheer size of him and his eerie unfamiliar presence in your apartment complex, it was like he read your mind to introduce himself.
“Simon Riley. new neighbor.”
you nodded slowly, giving him your name back and edging your fingers under the cardboard box, heaving it up into your arms.
“nice to meet you,” you said, giving him a weak smile from over the top of the box. he tilted his head at you, eyes flitting from the box to you.
when a prolonged silence ensued, you turned on your heel and stepped toward the elevator before you jerked around again.
“thank you for your service,” you squeaked, scurrying toward the elevator and feeling awkward when he just watched you from the hallway. you waved as the doors closed, watching him slip his hands into the pockets of his jeans. 
with one long look, he turned and prowled down the hallway.
that was five months ago. two months later, after endless awkward encounters of wordless greetings with him, the plumbing in your bathroom sink had exploded, flooding the floor in a puddle of water and spraying over the front of your white dress.
in a panic, you went to your next door neighbor Simon who opened the door upon your third set of rapid knocks.
you looked up to his massive form in the entrance, suddenly aware of how the front of your soaked dress had become sheer when you asked him to help you. 
he helped. and then you asked him to get drinks at the bar around the corner as a thank you. then when that became a regular occurrence, things just got more confusing.
it felt exclusive. maybe. you thought it felt exclusive when a man approached you in the bar, gearing up for a casual conversation with a sly smirk, but Simon was always at your back in an instant, a large, warm hand on your waist and his words in your ear.
she’s taken.
your mind spun after the first time it happened. taken?
whirling around on your heel after the man left with a low grumble and scowl, Simon just blinked down at you from behind his surgical mask, squeezing your waist with both hands before he was sinking back down into his seat, hulking as he leaned over the bar.
when the same happened a few more times, you didn’t question it, thinking it was maybe just a perk of the friendship. he staves off a couple creepy men at the bar and you pay for drinks. 
or at least that’s how you thought it worked until he started sliding his card across the counter to the bartender to claim the tab before you could even get a word out.
you were especially confused when he knocked at your apartment door one night. you opened it to find him void of the hoodie usually slung up and over his head, blonde hair hanging down his forehead, and a black shirt in its place. that’s when you saw the thick black ink winding down the tattoo sleeve of his arm, and your eyes darted over it with a blush, before you were inviting him in.
he had smelled something baking, he clarified, craning his neck into the kitchen. that made you giddy because you hadn’t taken him for someone nosy, but you entertained it nonetheless, assuming he just had an insatiable sweet tooth for cookies.
another part of you hoped he just had a sweet tooth for you.
then the baking became a regular occurrence. you’d bake him all sorts of sweets while he watched you from the little table in your kitchen, staring from behind that black mask of his while you prattled about your day and he took it all in silently. somewhere along the way, after so many nights of him chewing behind the mask, he ditched it completely, and you could watch him devour your brownies in a few bites without the annoying fabric in the way.
the new schedule had become very regular until it was baking night and he didn’t show up to your door. rolling the tenseness from your shoulders, you sent him a quick text, saying you would bring over the sweets in the morning to his apartment.
when he didn’t respond to that, a little nervous bubble of anxiety rooted in your chest. you found out from your landlord days later that Simon would be away for work, and that hurt more than you wanted it to. if he had taken the time to at least notify your landlord, he could’ve done the same for you… couldn’t he?
unless he didn’t think about you that way. but you were so sure—from the quick glances you shared, his gentle touches as he brushed past you in your kitchen, or the possessive grip on your waist at the bar, or just the way he was so relaxed around you meant something.
those were your thoughts that ran in circles as you sat at the diner booth. the waiter checked on your table every once and a while, sending you nervous glances ever since you said that you had a date… or a friend. or something like that.
you felt stupid for accepting Simon’s proposal so quickly, even after he had ghosted you for weeks. even then, you had dolled yourself up anyways, picking out the new dress you got last weekend and doing your hair and makeup. you buried your face in your hands, not looking up when you heard the chime of the diner opening.
when you heard a familiar, low and grating accent, your head snapped up to see Simon standing by the entrance and talking to the waiter, gesturing to you as the waiter just nodded.
Simon strode over to you, a duffle bag slung over his shoulder and dressed in his military fatigues, half his face behind in a black surgical mask.
you couldn’t help the gasp that escaped you when you reached your senses, heart soaring as you scrambled to stand. your hands twitched against the table when he stopped in front of you, dropping his duffle bag to the floor.
had he come straight from the airport? for you? you felt like your mind was spinning, but you forced it to still, desperately not wanting to jump to any strange conclusions…
swallowing down your thoughts, you said slowly, “it’s been a while.”
looking up into his murky brown eyes had never been so comforting.
“it has,” he affirmed, hands clenching and unclenching by his sides.
for a long moment, you both just stood there in silence, staring at each other and unsure what to do.
eyes darting down to his torso, you could feel the warmth of his body in the close proximity, and you felt so tempted to just touch him.
you outstretched a hand to brush over his clothing, and when he didn’t move away, you pressed your knuckles into his abdomen, amazed to feel him solid and real. then you wrapped yourself around his torso, giving him a tight hug, cheek pressed against his strong chest.
immediately, he engulfed you, squeezing you back.
“missed you,” you admitted, screwing your eyes shut.
you felt his nose press into the crown of your hair. “m’sorry m’late, love.” 
“s’fine,” you sniffled, feeling stupid when tears pricked up in your eyes. when you pulled back, you swiped at them with the back of your hand, startled when he reached forward to brush his fingers across your wet cheeks, squishing the chub of your face lightly.
he looked at you with such a softness that you almost melted, feeling nervous because you had never seen him look at you like that before.
then, as you both slid into the booth, you chided him in between sniffles, “don’t do that to me again.”
don’t leave me in the dark again, was what you meant, and you knew he understood what you meant when he nodded curtly.
the dinner went smoothly. more than you could imagine. or maybe you were just overwhelmed with the exhausting joy that Simon was still just the same since before he left two months ago—lowly grunted non-verbal responses as he munched on a platter of fish and chips, stealing a couple of your fries after he devoured his plate at a startling pace, and some rumbles of half-sentences, leaning on his elbow as he watched you ramble with excitement and sip on your milkshake every now and then.
when you accidentally got a smidge of whipped cream on your nose, he reached across the table to wipe it off, cutting through your words mid-sentence. you thanked him with a blush, shifting over the booth, just blushing harder when your shoes knocked against his under the table.
leaving felt smooth too—walking back to the apartment complex just a couple blocks away. even in the darkness of the night, you felt safe tucked near his side, enjoying his presence so close to your side and feeling disappointed when you reached the hallway you shared in the apartment complex.
he stopped by your door and you fumbled with your dress, struggling for words.
“come inside,” you offered, though it sounded more like a plea. your eyes flitted from his face to the duffle bag on his shoulder, hands twisting into the fabric of your dress.
“i know you must be tired but—”
“m’not,” he assured, squaring his shoulders. you nodded dumbly.
“i can bake brownies?” you squeaked, and he blinked down at you.
“s’reason why i’m here, love.”
at that you blushed, opening the apartment and throwing your jacket on the couch, moving to rifle through the kitchen.
“it won’t take long i promise,” you called from behind the fridge door, snatching the butter and eggs from it.
closing the door to turn to the counter, you jolted when Simon materialized beside you, boots, mask, and the jacket of his fatigues off, reaching above you to open a cabinet. your eyes darted over the ink designs of his muscled arm.
“flour and sugar’s here, right?” he asked, and you squeaked a yes, ducking beneath his arm to put the butter and eggs on the counter before grabbing a mixing bowl and baking pan from a lower cabinet.
once all the necessary items were strewn across the counter, you measured out the dry ingredients, dumping them into the mixing bowl. beside you, Simon leaned back against the edge of the kitchen sink, arms crossed as he watched you.
you were hyper-aware of his presence, hands jittery, confused because he always sat at the kitchen table to watch you. he never got this close and personal, uncrossing his arms to slide a hand over the counter right by where your hip leaned against it.
from your peripheral, you glanced at him, finding him already staring down at you.
“can i help?” he asked, voice gruff, and you turned your head to stare at him in dismay. this was new. very new.
“sure,” you choked out, scooting over so he could help you measure out the ingredients. he filled the space easily, arm pressed against yours in the little space.
you blushed. this was very very new.
he cracked an egg on the edge of the bowl, and you watched the yellow glop plop into the flour.
playing off the whole situation as a joke, you laughed nervously as you mixed the wet ingredients into the bowl. “miss my baking that much?”
you bit down on your lip, unable to look at him, just focusing on the churn of brown batter in the mixing bowl. when you felt him lean in, his strong bicep against yours, you muffled a yelp.
“‘course.”
“really?” you asked, pouring the batter into the greased up pan.
for good measure, you dipped a finger into the batter and tasted it, eyes flickering up to Simon. it was sweet.
he stared down at you, an imperceptible, dark look on his face as he leaned over and dipped his thumb into the batter, then swiped the gooey brown substance over your cheek.
“oops.” there was a smugness in his voice that his face smothered, expression blank when he gripped your jaw tight. 
you gasped when he turned your face and leaned down to lick you.
the textured muscle of his tongue pressed into the curve of your flesh, licking away the sweet taste from your cheek.
then, he leaned back with a hum. “i like sweet things.”
you clutched at his wrist keeping your jaw firmly in place, wide-eyed and heart beating out of your chest. you watched his finger dip back in the batter and reached up to your lips, spreading the sugary sweet batter over your lower lip.
you squeaked, unable to look anywhere but his bare face, rugged and handsome in the low light.
“may i?” he asked, eyes flitting down to your lips, and you couldn’t even nod in his hold, just a low, breathy yes on your lips that he swallowed, tongue sucking the traces of batter on your lips. 
you whimpered into his mouth, clutching at his shirt as he angled your head with a soft touch, sliding his hand on your jaw to your neck, just resting there. that spurred on a familiar burn in your stomach, and you squirmed in his hold.
when he leaned back, you were breathless and panting with flushed cheeks.
“sweet,” he rasped, like he was approving the taste as he licked over his lips.
from that point on, you didn’t really remember how you got to your bedroom, Simon’s hands edging up the hem of your dress beneath him, knuckles drawing a warm trail up to your hips as he sucked on the skin of your neck.
the only thing you could do was whine and squirm under his weight, legs and arms pinning you down as he did what he liked, giving you sweet kisses that made you feel all hazy.
you watched his head dip beneath the fabric of your dress and you gasped when you felt his lips against your thighs, skipping where you needed him most, and then against your stomach and the flesh of your breasts.
and all throughout the pleasurable haze, your fingers curled into the sheets, nails digging into the bed because you were beyond nervous.
you knew this would happen eventually—that Simon would end up in your bed or the other way around. kissing him was a dream. having him caging you against the bed with his heady weight was a dream.
sliding a hand over his back, his rushed movements slowed against your skin, taking the time to suck carefully around your pebbled nipples that had your hips bucking up with a whimper.
your mind spun. but you were so nervous.
it was all you could think about as he descended back down between your thighs, both of his big arms curling around your thighs to lock you in place against the bed.
words rung your mind loud and clear—what the hell is wrong with you?
when Simon dipped a thumb beneath the top of your panties, the words shook you again.
what the hell is wrong with you?
you hadn’t even noticed how still and quiet you had grown until his head perked up between your thighs, pupils blown wide. he swiped a thumb over the soaking entrance of your panties, drawing a whimper from your throat.
“what is it?” he asked, voice so throaty and rough that you shivered with want. you had wanted this for so long.
“nothing,” you whispered, tugging his head back down between your thighs, but he didn’t budge, frowning at you.
“tell me,” he probed, “m’not touchin’ you if you don’t, sweet thing.”
sweet thing.
swallowing hard, you shifted against the bed. “m’just nervous.”
“yeah?” he stroked the plush, soft skin of your inner thigh, before pressing his lips to it. “don’t worry. i’ll make you feel good.”
you nodded, biting down on your lip, though his words didn’t quell any of the raging anxiety thrumming within your chest, even when he kissed the wet fabric stretched over your cunt, nosing through your folds and his hot breath against you.
lifting up your hips with ease, he tugged a pillow beneath you.
“comfy?” he asked, hooking two fingers beneath your panties and sliding it down your thighs.
“uh-huh,” you gasped, back arching when he ducked between your legs and pressed the pink muscle of his tongue flat against your cunt.
“good,” he grunted against you, pecking your swollen clit before swirling his tongue around it, and building a steady, delicious pace that had you hiccuping moans.
your hands snaked through his hair, gripping the blonde curls tight and pulling, startling when he groaned in response, the tremors going straight from the back of his throat and into your clit.
you ground against his face and he purred in approval. “tha’s it, sweet thing.” 
you took the pleasure and rode it, pushing yourself further and further to the edge, or at least you thought you were, seeing no end in sight for the sensations wracking your body. every passing moment felt too long, and you could practically feel the irritation roiling off Simon in waves.
even though you couldn’t see his face, just could hear his soft noises of approval against your cunt, it was like you knew he was growing impatient.
frustrated, you huffed a whine, that anxiety in your chest squashing half the pleasurable experience. he reached up and pressed down on the lower part of your tummy, intensifying it all over again, making you gasp as your head fell back.
“relax,” he mumbled, playing with your clit as he pressed his tongue into your cunt, humming as he tasted you.
it was overwhelming. too overwhelming, and you couldn’t help the tears that pricked up in your eyes as you were torn between finishing and feeling good and pleasing Simon and—
a little sob broke from your throat, and he went still between your legs.
you covered your face with your hands, digging your palms into your eyes and muffled the sounds falling from your lips.
why were you crying?
brows pinched together, you scrunched up your face. “sorry, sorry, just keep going—”
you cut off when a sob choked your throat, refusing to look at Simon and withering when he stayed silent, feeling really fucking stupid as you just cried in the bed.
“i don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you whimpered, feeling him tug your dress back down over your thighs and hike your panties back up your hips.
you expected him to leave, ready to feel the weight of him against you on the bed disappear, and his heavy footsteps through the apartment, then the slam of the door behind him.
and you did—the dip in the bed lifted and you heard his footsteps edge around the bed.
then, you gasped when he slid into the bed beside you, arm circling beneath your waist and pulling you flush to his chest, breath right against your ear.
“what’s wrong, sweet thing?” he sighed, though it didn’t sound irritated, just tired as he sunk into the bed beside you.
your breath stilled, the cries dying in your throat as you twisted to look back at him. his gaze was soft as he peered over your shoulder, squeezing you between both arms.
“what?” you croaked, and he leaned over you to press a kiss to your cheek, squishing you into the bed.
“what’s wrong?” he repeated, thumb drawing circles against your clothed tummy.
“nothing,” you said, and he made a low noise of disapproval, pressing his face against the side of your head.
clutching at his arms holding your waist, caging you to him, you choked out the words. 
“i just…” you turned your head from him, tears spilling from your eyes and onto the sheets. “i wanna be good for you.”
he hummed against your ear, squeezing you tighter. “you are so good for me, love.”
“no, i meant…” you huffed, sniffling with a frustrated sound in the back of your throat.
“i take too long,” you squeaked, avoiding his eyes. “there’s something wrong with me.”
a sob pierced your chest. “i think i’m broken.”
you turned in his arms and buried your face in his chest, embarrassed as you soaked his shirt with tears, muffled the sharp noises of your throat against his solid body. he curled around you, hand rubbing down your back.
“who put those ideas in your pretty head?”
his voice was deceptively soft, though you heard the threat that lay under it, and you shivered.
“my ex boyfriend.”
his body went tense against you.
“look at me luvie.”
you lifted your head and let him kiss you, tasting salty and sweet from the slick of you still in his mouth, as he brushed away the tears on your face.
when he pulled back and you looked over the curves of his face, the depth of his dark eyes, you admitted to him softly, “i don’t want you to leave me.”
it was such a small whimper that you don’t think he would’ve heard you, but from the way his face crunched into a frown you knew that he had.
“m’not going anywhere,” he promised, pushing the hair from your forehead. “m’right here.”
you whimpered, pulling him back down for a kiss that was wet and hot, teeth knocking against yours when he pressed you further into the bed.
“lemme make you feel good,” he whispered, and you clutched at his arm wound tight around your waist, the other creeping up to cup your breast.
“please,” you whimpered, and he hummed into your lips.
“when’s the last time you touched yourself?” he asked, lips trailing down to your neck, his large hand edging down to brush over your pelvis.
“long time,” you squeaked, gasping when his hand snuck beneath your dress, rucking it up so it pooled around your waist.
“c-can’t do it myself,” you admitted, screwing your eyes shut when his fingers slipped beneath the band of your panties. “doesn’t feel good.”
“yeah? bet your ex couldn’t make you feel good either,” he mumbled, either to you or yourself you couldn’t tell, mind dizzy and somewhere up high when his forefinger gently brushed over the shell of your clit. “bet your he didn’t even know how to touch a woman. how to make her cum.”
you whimpered, hips bucking into his hand, and you could feel him smile against your neck.
“s’okay, baby. i’ll make you cum.”
his fingers circled your swollen clit, other hand fondling the sensitive plush of your tits. as you squirmed against his touch, little breathy noises leaving your lips, you could feel his hard cock pressing into the curve of your ass. you whimpered at the sheer size of it.
“please, Simon,” you gasped, clutching at his wrist as he played and flicked at your clit, speeding up then slowing down and dragging you through a slew of different body wracking sensations, leaving you so whiney and sensitive that your thighs started to shake and twitch.
your ex boyfriend had never given you so much attention like this—just honing in on his own pleasure, degrading you when you tried to chase your own. it became something you dreaded. something you didn’t want and forced yourself through, faking orgasms and artificial, pitched moans.
it was so different from Simon that you felt delirious, blissed out as real, loud whines broke through your throat, riding his hand just wanting more and more.
“more,” you sobbed, burying your face into the sheets, jolting when he played and pinched at your swollen nipples.
“want you to cum on my hand first, sweet thing,” he whispered, and you almost cried real tears.
he huffed a laugh into your ear.
“feel that good?” he cooed, and you nodded against the sheets, wiggling your hips in his hand.
“c-can’t,” you whined, shivering when he made a noise of disapproval.
“yes you can,” he said, low and throaty, licking over your ear. “i don’t care how long it takes, baby. i can play with this pretty cunt all night.”
you moaned, grinding down into his hand, eyes rolling back into your head as he abused your clit, crushing it beneath his fingers.
“you’re gonna cum on my hand, and then i’m gonna stretch you out with my fingers, yeah? then you’re gonna cum on my fingers, and i’m gonna fuck two more orgasms out of you. how does that sound, sweet thing?”
“Simon—” you choked, whole body going still when you finally reached a sharp peak, shaking and twitching and moaning softly through your whole orgasm that made you see a blinding white.
he groaned in your ear, so filled with pleasure it sounded like he came alongside you.
“there you go, baby, good girl. so good f’me.”
your hearing felt muffled when you resurfaced, blinking your eyes open, sleepy and muscles lax against the bed. he was petting at your naval, peppering little kisses and kitten licks along your neck and shoulders.
“see? that wasn’t so hard, luvie,” he whispered in your ear, making a shiver slither down your spine.
“mhmm,” was all you could get out, pliable as he slipped from your side and moved you to your back, tipping your knees open as he dove between your legs.
you looked down, watching him drink up the cum from your pussy, slurping loudly and sucking on your twitchy clit, your hips squirming in his hold. 
“so sweet,” he practically growled, and you whined in response, trying to push his head away.
when he finally relented, he sat back, licking over his lips before tugging the shirt over his head. in the dim lighting, you could see scars littered over him, naval blessed with dark hair and a toned stomach that made your mouth water.
“think you can do that four more times, baby?”
when you shook your head, he only smirked, crawling back over you and pressing the crotch of his fatigues against your sopping pussy, grinding his painfully hard, big cock against your aching entrance.
“yes you can,” he said, low and throaty. “m’gonna make you, sweet thing. you’re gonna be coming on this cock all night long.”
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taglist: @ivybeeloved
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thewinchestah · 3 months
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"PREY" - Alastor x reader fic
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Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader
Tags: One-Shot, 18+, Smut, NSFW, edging, begging, overstimulation, Alastor does what he wants, there's plot if you squint really hard, alastor in heat, breeding kink, degradation kink, praise kink,
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Word Count: i lost count. it's big.
  | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
A/N: Helloooooo!!! I write a lot but i never publish it! My lovely friend and also biggest inspiration for this fic @smallershorteranduncut ordered me to post this and i'm nothing but her loyal servent! I hope you guys enjoy the fruits of me writing 10 google docs pages today while i was enraged. Also english isn't my first language, no beta we die like men here yadayayfayada! enjoy &lt;;3 (UPDATE!) Part 2 is now up!
-
Everything about the Radio Demon seemed to be designed to make you desire him, want him. Many times in ways you weren’t even ready to admit to yourself. You haven’t been in Hell long, that’s true. But ever since you manifested here you felt like someone had picked your brain open to make Alastor the perfect bait to lure you into even more sinful, sinister paths. 
He had an inexplicable magnetism around him, a piercing presence that made your eyes stuck on him when he worked a room. He had you bewitched and you hadn’t share more than polite pleasantries with each other since you became a guest at the hotel.
Today, again, you were transfixed in his gaze. Sitting in the corner of the hotel lobby, trying to make your embarrassing attraction to him go unnoticed while Alastor waltzed across the room explaining more of his wicked plans to Charlie. God, how you wish he had his wicked way with you. 
He seemed more… on edge today. His red eyes  glowed a little brighter, his nostrils flared a bit more, static filling the room more often, he was smiling with almost barred teeth, and everyone seemed to be avoiding him. Even Charlie was trying to politely dismiss him, the general feeling of uneasiness inside the hotel  just growing larger when Angel stationed himself near your little corner of the room. 
“Don’t go near that creepy motherfucker today, he’s about to lose it.”  Angel alerted, almost whispering, a pair of his hands making the “crazy sign” near his head 
“Isn’t he always creepy and about to lose it?” Husk added, staring at the exchange between the radio demon and Charlie.
“I’m telling you toots, I know that guy definitely isn't normal, but today he is borderline a mass extinction event. I swear, he’s just waiting for someone to give him the excuse” Angel replied, confirming your suspicions. Something was off.
“Uh. Well, about that, I think it’s time we rescue Charlie” 
As if on cue Charlie turned to the corner of the room, gesticulating really hard to be taken away from the small commotion her conversation with Alastor was becoming. 
“Hey Charlie, do you remember that thing with the hotel’s… personalized stationery you asked me to help you today? Let’s do it!” Said angel gently guiding Charlie away from the Radio Demon.
“Guess that’s my cue Alastor! Greaaaaat chat! As always! Have a nice day!! Byeee!” Charlie’s overly chirpy tone giving away her uneasiness. 
Suddenly it felt like all the air was taken out of the room. Alastor’s neck turned into an ungodly angle, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. Static grew around the group, almost suffocating. As your vision went blurry from the sheer power that was being evoked, you contemplated if there was another afterlife. Preferably one where you didn’t inherit a death wish from your previous ones.
And as quick as it started, it was over. 
Alastor just said a creepy “hm” turned on his hell, and walked away. 
It almost felt like it was all in your head, but your friends standing perfectly still and dead silent next to you gave the reality of the situation away: everyone just had a near death-death experience. Maybe it would be a good topic for Charlie’s bonding exercises, who knows with this place. 
“I told ya’ll. Mass. Extinction. Event. Stay out the psycho’s way”
Angel’s voice became background noise in your head, your eyes focusing on the spot where Alastor just threatened everybody’s life without saying a word. As the voices dissipated around you and normalcy slowly returned to the hotel, your mind sank deeper and deeper into the mystery that was the Radio Demon. 
-
They were so oblivious, so naive. Thinking he wasn’t listening what they said about him behind his back. Thinking he was unaware of him being the topic of the discussion when he wasn’t looking. He could bathe in the smell of their fear, and he was relishing it. 
Alastor stared at the new pretty little thing that arrived at the hotel. Oh how pathetically sweet and innocent she was, thinking she was being subtle about her infatuation with him. Thinking she could hide her interest in him, when she was nothing but a doe caught in the headlights of his eyes. Oh, she was just the perfect prey for him, wrapped in this lovely red bow she wore on her hair. 
Angel was right, he was just waiting for an excuse, and she just offered him one on a silver platter. And alastor was everything but a coward. 
-
You cursed a little bit louder than you intended when you saw the blood dripping from your finger. “Stop. making. a. spectacle. of. yourself” you mentally screamed. You still could not figure Charlie’s “special stationary stapler” out, so stapling your finger was bound to happen. 
Even though it was not much, the silly little cut was stinging like a bitch, and your best efforts to stop the bleeding were futile, considering the mess on the hem of your skirt. Still high on the adrenaline from earlier, your shaking hands searched for something, anything to put on your finger so you could continue your work without anyone noticing. Everyone already had enough for one day, it was fine. 
“My dear, did you just hurt yourself?” Alastor’s voice invaded your ears. Oh, fuck. That’s it, he was going to murder you for being so incompetent with the damned stapler.
Turning to face him, you meet his piercing gaze, not sure if you should run and scream for help. “Oh no worries alastor, it’s just a small cut, i can manage!” you give him your most confident smile. 
Alastor’s head tilts, eyes burning red as he watches the small droplets of your blood make their way down your index finger.  
“Nonsense, I can't have my staff running around with injuries and bloodied clothes. We are in hell, but we are not savages, dear” He seems transfixed by the blood, and you are too scared to move, too scared to anything other than hold the weight of his gaze and hope for the best. Your lizard brain is screaming for you to run, ask for help. Maybe Charlie isn’t too far away, could you make a run for it? Somehow your survival instincts override your brain, maybe all those hours watching true crime back on earth weren’t in vain, and you decide against running. Let him initiate first. 
He catches your wrist, trapping it inside his deadly claws. His face, towering over you, comes all the way down to inspect the offending finger. You can feel his breathing on your skin. 
Your breathing stops. You swallow an imaginary lump. He’s gonna bite off your fing-
“Would you be a doll and let me take care of it? Blood being unnecessary wasted truly abhors me” 
You must have said yes at some point, you don’t really remember, now you are holding the red handkerchief he handed  you, answering his request to “please follow him”. Trailing behind the Radio Demon, both of you walk through the large corridors. 
This might be the time to scream for help. the voices inside your head warn. With every step of his feet you hear his microphone going tsk tsk tsk where it touches the ground. You are walking the death row, the paintings on the wall chanting “dead woman walking, dead woman walking”. 
“Keep pressuring the wound darling, we are almost there” he gently commands you, too gently… it feels almost… soft, pleading. The way Alastor goes from 0 to 100 is giving you whiplash. 
He slows down, reaching for the door knob of an unknown room. Ever the gentleman, he gestures for you to enter first.
the door locks behind you.
 if i’m being murdered, at least i’m being murdered with class. 
“Don’t be silly, I’m not going to murder you” Alastor says, almost singing the last part of the sentence. 
“Oh fuck, i said that out loud, didn’t I?” you blurted out 
“Yes you did. And yes, I also noticed your lovely doe eyes on me every time i’m in the room” 
Your brain short circuits. That 's it. You are dead. He’s not going to murder you (apparently), but you are going to die of embarrassment. It will feel like murder. He knows, fuck, he knows. He knows about your crush (?) and he’s going to drag you for it. You are going to be so dragged the angels will pity you and bring you to heaven. A creative way to be redeemed, Charlie should know about this. Your thoughts are going downhill as a big snowball, there are too many of them and you can’t follow a single coherent train of thought. You don’t even want to know how you look in the middle of this. You must look pathetic, truly like a doe caught in headlights. And then you hear your name once.
Twice now, in a sing-song voice.
Your eyes fly open towards the sound, breaking from the anxiety induced spell as you realize the Radio Demon had just called you, by name. He knows your name???
“Ah hahah! You’re back.” Alastor says, as he starts to circle you like a predator. Your eyes, as always, follow his across the room.
 “I don’t like to repeat myself, little doe. You heard what I asked?” 
Again, you don’t really remember answering, your brain is going AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA as you watch him pace around you, eyes burning red, demanding your attention. Teeth slightly barred, voice on the edge of something. Was that “X” on his forehead always there?
“I asked if you know what you are doing to me” static fills the room as he finishes speaking. Alastor’s clawed hand trapped your bloodied finger dangerously close to his grinning lips. Your brain is doing flips as he stares deep into your soul, and when your thoughts land you make the connection. Alastor is horny. Alastor is horny for y-
“You see, little doe, I know what your eyes hide when you desperately lower them everytime I come near you. I know how you feel you can hide in plain sight if you stay quiet enough. But I can taste it. Your fear. Your lust. In the air. In your blood.” He has a white knuckled grip on your wrist now, same with his microphone. You lower your guard, eyes going from startled to lustful. “Good thing right now there’s nothing more i want in this godforsaken pit than your lust, pet”
You want this. There’s no point in lying to yourself. You want Alastor to fuck you. You’ve fantasized about the Radio Demon taking you more times than you can count. More times than you would like to admit to yourself. This feels deeply wrong, but you crave it. 
Fuck it, you are in hell, there’s nothing to lose. Alastor is still watching you, impatiently. For the first time today you realize you actually forgot to say something. He’s waiting. Alastor is waiting for your permission. 
“Take my breath away, Alastor” 
Your permission might have been really loud, it felt like you were screaming the words. But you can’t be sure, it might have been a whisper. Either way he didn’t miss it, what happens next is fast, angry and delicious. 
Alastor pounces and licks the blood on your finger, something clicks inside him as he tastes the red liquid, because he lets go of his microphone instantly and his arms grab your waist aggressively, so forceful you wouldn’t be surprised if it breaks skin. You shouldn’t be so turned on by this, by the sight of a psychopathic demon drinking your blood. But you are, and there’s no going back. 
“Strip” he orders. You want to say to him that you can’t take your clothes off your person with him holding you like this. He must have realized the conundrum: if he wants you naked, he has to let go of you. To Alastor, letting go of you right now is simply unthinkable. So he doesn’t: you feel his claws cut the bodice of your dress open, sending the most delicious shivers down your spine. Another claw rips your skirt apart, and you are almost fully naked in the Radio Demon’s arms, pressing your body hard on his still impeccable dressed body.
It’s humiliating, it’s dangerous, it’s hot, it is delicious, to be at his complete mercy, just how you always wanted.
Somehow both of you made your way close to the enormous bed in the middle of the room. Alastor cornered you, so the only way you could escape was walking backwards towards the bed. The brilliant bastard. 
You feel your calves hitting the edge of the bed, and Alastor breaks away.
 Pity, your mind complains. Get him back to touching you again. right. now,.
“Now now, we should establish some rules for this, pet” Alastor’s hands might have stopped touching you, but his piercing eyes never did. He knocks you on top of the bed, you lay there sprawled open just for him. His hands move up to do a quick work of his bowtie
“Rule one: you will take what I give you. Nothing more, nothing less. What I give you is enough. You might feel like you can’t take anymore, but you can. You will take it, I will make you take it” He takes his tailcoat off, his frame towering over you, even with your body completely flat on the mattress and his in front of it. 
“ Rule two: every ounce of your pleasure is mine and mine only. Mine to give, mine to take. And you will give me everything. I want to hear every sound, to feel every touch, to know every nasty thought that runs inside that pretty little head of yours. You will not suppress anything, I wanna hear your moans when you make a mess of yourself as I take everything I desire from your delicious body. I will relish on your desperate screams of pleasure.Nothing outside these walls matter” He is climbing on the bed now. You hold the weight of his gaze, underneath your demonic lover’s eyes your skin burns.
“Rule three: don’t you dare cum without my permission, good girls earn their orgasms and you will be a good girl. Or else…” static starts to pick up around the room, you are seeing the blackest black that ever was, his shadows enveloping you both. Nothing outside these walls matter. “Understood?” Alastor says as he pins your hands on top of your head, against the fancy headboard. His hand cups one of your boobs and he is worrying your nipple between his sharp claws. finally finally, your mind sings. You feel a surge of magic binding your wrists in green chains, attached to the headboard. It’s overbearing, it’s ridiculous. His magic feels like him, another part of him for you to take.
He pinches your nipple particularly hard and you moan softly, pleasure and pain consuming any other sensation. You forgot to answer him, you realize. You’ve barely started and you are already being bad. “yes alastor, yes.. but please don’t stop” the soft whimper leaves your lips.
“lovely.” he replies, and with that his mouth is on your nipple, sucking it while he administers his wicked ministrations to your other one. His sharp teeth prickling on the edge of breaking skin, and you already feel like you won’t be able to take all of him. 
His hand trails down to aggressively grip your thighs, his tongue sucking the neglected nipple his fingers left. Your moans become frequent and messy, if he’s already making you go insane with the beginnings of foreplay... You might pass out and die when he starts fucking you, but you don’t care. Let him show you the true meaning of la petite mort.
“My my, what do we have here” his hand leaves your thigh to trace the wetness of your panties. A clawed finger rips it apart, the last barrier between you and total consumption by the Radio Demon. He takes the finger between your glistening lips, not entering, just teasing 
“I don’t think i will get enough of this pretty little body of ours anytime soon, pet” he says as his finger finally enters your sex, He moves his digit with an expertise you didn’t really know he had in him,  making you whimper his name, ooohs and aaaahs, your hips start threshing from the pleasure. If you continue at this pace, you will be  begging for permission to cum too soon. Pathetic. you think to yourself. Because you know how hard this building orgasm will be,you don’t know if he will grant you more than one orgasm. And will you murder you yourself if you don’t feel his cock inside you tonight. You take a deep breath in between your moans and will your hips to stay in place, your nerves to calm down. 
Alastor adds another finger, and it takes all of your willpower not to become a puddle of wetness right there. You bite your lip so hard you taste blood. 
“you do make a mess of yourself, don’t you? you just can’t help it” he says as he curls his digits inside you. Your hips start thrashing hard again, and you sink them deeper into the bed. The chains on your wrists shake with the effort to hold back. As if alastor wasn’t going to notice. “no no no what did I say?” he snaps angrily, he’s eyes flash red at you and he takes his fingers out with a wet “pop”, you feel like crying at the emptiness. “please please alastor, don’t stop” you plead. His hands leave you entirely, you are left with just his piercing gaze, the one that makes your skin burn. “did I say you could hold back? don’t pretend like you aren’t a common whore for me, that you love how pathetic it feels that you are creaming yourself and we haven’t even really started” 
his condescending tone just makes everything even more sublime. It’s so wrong how good being told you are nothing more than a common whore by the Radio Demon feels. But you never felt anything close to this. “please Alastor” you beg again, nothing but a small whisper
“I would love to taste this pussy, so red already for me, but since you broke one of the rules… i’m afraid I will make you understand that are nothing but my pretty cockslut the hard way” 
Punishment? His punishment sounds ever better than his praise right now. You moan at his voice. He laughs. 
His knees cage you, as he lifts his upper body from you and starts undoing his zipper. He is taking his cock out. Oh fuck, he’s gonna fuck you without anymore foreplay. And he’s not going to be gentle about it either. You shiver. 
Alastor pumps himself a few times, his cock is big, thick, and an angry red shade, flush red like that, because of you, just for you. He’s gonna make you pay: pay for holding back from him, pay for making him feel like an animal and almost losing his hard constructed control. 
The look on his face says it all, he’s gonna take it out on you and you can’t do nothing about it.
You don’t have much time to think about the repercussions, in one swift motion his tip is already inside you, stretching you deliciously. Your brain short circuits again, the feeling of his cock inside you is everything you imagine and more. Depraved, heavenly, delicious. You struggle in your binds again, you want desperately to touch him. To feel his skin beneath your finger, to scratch him, mark him. But oh well, he’s the Radio Demon, he’s the one in charge and you are his prey.
Alastor starts to slowly enter you, he’s trying his best to hold back. He knows if he does this too fast it will hurt in a way he doesn’t want you to feel. And by the look on his face going slow is as torturous for him as it is for you. tantalizing inch after tantalizing inch he spreads the walls of your cunt apart. You understand now why this is punishment, it hurts in a perfect way, it hurts even more that he is doing it slowly, and not just thrusting like you imagined  he would, if he had more time to work on you. 
You become a mess of moans and incoherent words. His cock is halfway inside you now “HoLY FUCK ALASTOR” you scream. It’s already too much. 
“There’s nothing holy about this my dear. I’m going to breed you. I’m going to break you” and with that he buries himself to the hilt inside you. Now you truly scream in pleasure and pain “you won’t be able to walk straight for days, you will feel me in every step, and you will thank me for it”. His thrusts pick up at breakneck speed, the bed shakes from the sheer force that Alastor is using to fuck you. Every snap of his hips you moan more and more. 
The sound you make when he takes everything out and enters you at once is so obscene that it would make Angel Dust blush. He’s growling now, his antlers growing bigger as he fucks you like his life dependend on it. As he fucks you like he hates you. 
Alastor pushes your hips higher, and suddenly he’s even deeper. His other hand holding your waist in a bruising grip. The strain on your pinned hands will bruise too. His lips graze the skin of your collarbone, he looks so feral you are scared he will maul, the thrill of not knowing adding to your fucked up sense of pleasure. 
He seems to pick up on your fear, and bites down on your collarbone, hauling as he tastes your blood and buries himself inside you again and again. Moans turned into screams, and the only thing coming out of your lips is his name, spoken like a profane prayer. You would give everything you have to Alastor, and he doesn’t even have to ask.
Your orgasm has been building for a while now, the coil on your belly becoming tighter and tighter, like a supernova about to be born. “Alastor, please please let me come” you beg. His unfocused eyes stare down at you, as he takes a moment from feasting on your sweet blood to address your desperate, sweet pleas.
“Don’t. You. Dare” he says, punctuating every word with a sharp thrust. As much as you want, you are not sure you will be able to hold any longer. “I beg you alastor, please let me cum, i will let you do anything you want. but i need it so badly, please please”
You sounded so desperate when you begged, so beautiful.
“Don’t strike deals you don’t know you can fulfill, pet” his voice is low, a warning. You ignore it. “I promise Alastor, anything”. Alastor laughs.
 his finger touches your clit as he finally allows your sweet relief “you may come now, sweet doe” and that’s it, you are off, you are dead. You see stars, you see the entire universe as you scream out and climax. Walls tightening around Alastor’s monster cock, eyes rowling, his name a scream on your lips. You ride out your wave slowly, but Alastor is not slowing down.
Instead he is picking up his pace, maneuvering your hips even higher, your chains are stretched to the limit. You can feel them start piercing your skin. Thrust after thrust the sensation becomes too much, you are too overstimulated to go through all of this again.
“i can’t take it, i can’t take it!”
Alastor doesn’t care. “I told you not to make deals if you can’t hold them, didn’t I?” You don’t answer, you can’t. you can’t to anything but let him fuck you as hard and as much as he want. “but you are such a little cockslut for me that you can’t help it. What a shame” 
He is gripping your hips so hard it breaks skin, tiny trails of blood on his claws. “you will take it. You better take it, or I will make you take it” static picks up as he threatens the last words. You know you are spent, you know how bad it hurts, you know how bad his words sound, but the lines between pleasure and pain are so blurred that you can’t think coherently. Even this  pain of being broken feels good. 
Still, tears fill your eyes and you start crying, from pleasure, from pain, you don’t know anymore. What Alastor is doing to you has no precedent. No one can do this like he does. He knows torture too well, and he is tortouring you in the most decadent, delicious ways possible. “alastor i want to, i want to so bad but i just can’t” the tears sting your eyes and stain your face. 
Alastor sees it. He slows down just a bit, his voice softening “oh my dear doe, but you can. Just this once more, just for me. One more” his voice is so maddening soft it acts like fuel to your tears. Your skin tingles and you feel giddy, somehow your throbbing hot, wet cunt seems to find the right amount of relief, and you can feel only pleasure again.
Alastor continues to fuck you, your moans returning to normal, you are being so loud now, making a mess of yourself, just like he said, and a big hand comes to cover your mouth. 
“Oh we can’t have you being this loud can we?” his voice goes to that delicious mocking tone. His thrusts are slower now, but as deep as they can go. “what would you friends say if they found out that you moan like a common whore for their feared radio demon.. hum,.?”
You start to feel the pit of your belly tightening again, and alastor doesn’t stop humiliating you. The degradation feels just the right amount of perfection. You are exactly what he says you are. A common whore when it comes to him. “weren’t you ashamed just a few moments ago? trying to hold back the sinful sounds you make when I touch you? I already gave you one orgasm. I’ve been way too generous for my liking. I should stop right now since you feel so conscious about this”  Alator’s breathing is becoming erratic, his thrusts sharp, hard, and out of the breakneck rhythm he was torturing you before.You start moaning even louder through his hand. “ungrateful little pet. You are just so greedy for one more orgasm, you don’t even care that everyone downstairs can hear you hm??”
You can’t think straight. you feel on the edge of glory, this orgasm threatening to be harder than your previous one, as if it is possible. “alastor i’m so sorry, i know i don’t deserve it” you muffle behind his hand, he hears you speaking and takes if off “but can you please let me cum? just this once? just for you. Please Al” his thrusts are truly erratic now. He’s close too, even though you are too wrapped up on your own sensations to notice 
“please” you beg, nothing more than a whisper. Already making peace with the fact that you are going to come without his permission and he will probably never fuck you again
“Good girl, you can come now”
instantly as you are granted his permissions your world explodes, blinding hot pleasure takes over your body, the waves of pleasure making your heart beat so fast you feel like it’s going to stop. The petit mort is coming, and her sweet embrace envelops you, specially now that you feel Alastor’s cock twitching and spilling his seed inside you. You scream his name. Maybe you hear him screaming yours too. You don’t know anymore, your nerves are singing from pleasure unheard of back  when you were alive. Pleasure so great it could only be found in hell. The most heavily, depraved way of torture. 
You come down from your high, still dizzy, your body going limp. You are not dead, but you are positively spent. You give in into the warm and fuzziness of sleep. 
The last thing you remember is the softness of a blanket, a gentle kiss on your cheek.
“Oh my dear, I knew you had one more on you,spending yourself this way just for me! What a truly precious thing, doe”
You might be dreaming now.
-
You weren’t dreaming. Alastor praises you, knowing his words will be the last thing you hear before a night of peaceful, deep dreamless slumber. He makes sure to put the softest velvet blanket he owns on your body, not to make the damage you gladly allowed your body to take for him an inconvenience. Tomorrow you will wake up to fancy letters of praise and sweet chocolate covered strawberries. And no one will know how Alastor found the perfect doe to breed as he pleases during the height of his mating season.
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youremyonlyhope · 1 year
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man im just like. thinking about egg signs and how they've evolved over the course of the qsmp and how the qsmp has evolved over the course of the qsmp and just feeling so much love and affection for every part of the project. i dont have any grand overarching point with this just. like. here's a history of egg comms bc of the kind of person that i am
so wayyyy back ten months ago now at the start of the short and sweet egg event that was planned to last maybe a month at most, the eggs had their own custom, decorated signs!
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[ID: Leo with a pink sign with an egg on the bottom corner that reads "hello" in all caps. Her nametag reads Leonardo. End ID]
They were extremely simple, single word signs. There was hello, hola, story, feed, sleep, and maybe one or two more and each was its own separate sign. The eggs could only communicate the most basic needs in words and everything else was through minecraft body language or just hoping their parents guessed right.
But obviously, there was a lot more that parents wanted to hear from their children. I'm not sure who was actually first, but the earliest departure from this system I know about is BadBoyHalo giving Dapper a simple oak sign so he could name his pet slime. (Screenshot from @/lxrd-ren)
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[ID: Dapper wearing a diver's helmet standing next to a tiny slime in a boat with an oak sign reading "Bouncy (slmecicle but better)" End ID]
Parents quickly realized how much more convenient this was and pretty soon every single egg had stacks of signs to communicate with.
The next innovation came from Vegetta, who was the resident mod knower at the time. He knew about colored canvas signs and gave Leo signs in her favorite color purple because he loved her and gave her everything she wanted.
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[ID: Leo's bed in her room under some Fooligetta fanart with a purple sign reading "<3" End ID]
Colored signs obviously had a lot of advantages. Being able to tell at a glance which egg placed which sign was a huge step forward in eggs being able to have long, complicated conversations as well as leaving obvious marks of their personality everywhere they went. It took a little while for them to be standard for every egg though. Bobby never stopped using oak signs even after Richas and Pomme both showed up with colored signs.
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[ID: Two signs reading from right to left a red Pomme sign reading "we already started working on a guillotine factory" and a dark grey Dapper sign reading "thats the most french u have said so far pomme" End ID]
And this was the system for a while! And it worked pretty well for most people! The biggest struggle most people had was egg signs not being translated, but streamers adjusted to that by reading signs out loud so the translators would pick up on them. This also lead to adorable and fascinating dynamics like Richas swearing in signs he wrote for Bad and then warning Bad not to read them out. There was also the genuinely phenomenal development of Leolingo where Leo writes only in Spanish to Foolish because it's easier for her to write and he takes his time to puzzle his way through it and learn in a way that's super cool to watch someone else do onscreen.
Then Tubbo joined the server. And Tubbo himself had no problems at all with the system, but he is dyslexic and he casually mentioned offhand that it was getting kind of annoying to read signs after a ten hour long stream and the admin team Fucking Cooked.
Within 24 hours, they had TTS working on the signs. Within 48 hours, it was working on books too. I can't remember how long it took to get translation working, but it was definitely under a week.
And this opened up a whole new world of possibilities for the entire QSMP. The admin team has been on top of capitalizing on it for story purposes, but also just allowing the egg admins to speak in their native languages to everyone whenever they want has been so enriching for everyone involved. Leolingo is awesome but Foolish has been learning Spanish insanely fast and his process is a lot slower and more frustrating than most people can do in front of an audience of thousands of people without feeling discouraged. That's also one language. We've had everything from Foolish being able to check his work a bit more faster to Phil insisting on his eggs taking a day to speak to him in their native languages to Ramón writing a book for Fit in Cantonese, a language we haven't even seen on the server in any other context!
And all of it is fully understood and fully communicated! Sometimes the translators mess up but no one expects them to be perfect and people ask for clarification if the translator says something that doesn't sound right. It's not only a massive step forward in communication technology, but it's a great demonstration of how to use it and when you can and can't rely on it.
And finally, the most recent innovation! One of BBH's viewers sent him a dono saying they had trouble reading certain signs because they were too low-contrast. Bad, Richas, and Pomme just. Took it upon themselves to fix the problem right there and then. Based on One (1) bringing up their own personal struggle, those three came up with new signs that innovate tremendously on the originals.
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[ID: Two separate images of the before and after. The first is the egg signs in their original colors with the corresponding egg's name written on them to demonstrate the font color and the second is in the new, higher contrast colors with the same text. The new signs also have custom decorations for each egg. The second picture also has two signs from Pomme in all caps that read "Send all the love to Richas he spent a whole night making this he's the best <3" End ID]
There are three main innovations visible in the above pictures
1: Obviously, the colors are higher contrast. The signs with white text have darker colors and the signs with black text have lighter colors.
2: The colors themselves are lower saturation. Richas said this made it easier for him personally to read them so he corrected that way, but that's open to change if it causes difficulties for more people than it helps
3: The decorations are for accessibility reasons! People with various different forms of colorblindness will find different sets of colors easier or harder to distinguish, but any of them can look at the decorations and use them to identify whose sign is whose instead.
But! Those innovations are not why I made this post! It's these ones!
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[ID: The backs of the new signs when placed on the ground. Most visible are Chayanne's with vines and a hardcore heart, Sunny's with shining sunglasses, and Pomme's with an apple and the Eiffel Tower. End ID]
Richas added distinguishing marks to the backs of the signs too! This is something that Bad brought up specifically as something he wanted because it was hard for him to tell who was talking when he was using TTS from behind signs and couldn't see the colors at all.
We went from custom egg signs (a hotbar or so of words and nothing else to communicate with) through a long journey of expanding communication and expanding who we're bringing along on the communication and how easily they can join in and we've circled all the way back around to custom egg signs (they can say anything they want in any language they want and anyone will know it's them saying it from any angle)
and i guess i have enough feelings abotu that to write All This about it
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hotpinkstars · 10 days
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LOST POSSESSIONS - aventurine, boothill, x reader
- in which you lost your wedding band during a conflict with something/someone.
- novas comeback post guys I'm gonna be more fluent with writing I promise. hope you enjoy this though I was gonna add Sunday but my computer is literally at 1 percent sooooooo....
- a lot of crying, minor swearing, besides that all comfort... wc 912
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When Aventurine walked into your shared home to the sight of you sobbing on the couch, he thought of the worst. Are you hurt? Did something happen while he was at work? He went up to you to seek for answers.
“What happened? What's wrong?” He internally panicked, not wanting to allow you to see his current emotions. He kept calm as you sat up, tear stained face poking a hole through his battered heart.
“You’re gonna be so pissed!” You sob, somehow starting to cry even harder. You dove back into the warm cushions of the couch when you felt the part near your shins dip, and a hand running through your hair and massaging the back of your scalp.
“You can tell me anything. I won’t be upset, I promise,” he gave you a sympathetic look before proceeding. “But if you’re not comfortable with it, I won’t push you.”
You hesitantly show him your bare hands, and he takes them in his. You roll over to face him and look at him with a pained expression, and that's when he seemed to realize. 
“Where's your wedding ring?” He said, his words quick. He looked at you slightly wide-eyed before you began bawling again. He began to swipe the tears out of your eyes, his thumb coming into contact with your lower lashes as he quietly attempts to hush you and calm you down.
“Was it stolen? Did you lose it?” 
You bring a hand up to your face before sniffling. “It got stolen. The diamond was too appealing to some bastard on the streets on Golden Hour, and it was swiped right off of my hand!” 
You curl back into yourself before Aventurine comes down to kiss your face. “I’m not mad at you, babe. I’m beyond pissed off with the person who did that. Nobody seems to have even a drop of human decency these days, do they?” 
You slightly shrugged before hugging him close. He returned the hug, and held you there until you quietly whispered a question into his ear. “What are we going to do about the ring?”
He slightly chuckled before bringing his head on top of yours. “I might as well get you a new one. The old one was rather… out of date, if I must say so myself. I could get you a bigger, brighter diamond.”You attempted to protest, attempting to say everything he knew you wanted to say- even something made out of paper would be good enough for me. But he thought you were worth the shiniest, biggest, rarest stone in the world. Worth much much more than that. And this incident wasn’t much of a setback for him, and really didn’t make his wallet cry very hard at all.
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Boothill doesn’t play when his significant other is not doing very well. He’s immediately at your side, stroking your hair and trying to do or say anything he can to make you feel better. 
But in this instance, it didn’t really work. He realized after a few moments that he just had to be patient, and wait for you to come to him,
“You’re going to be so mad at me if I told you,” you hiccuped, before continuing to talk. “Please don’t yell at me.”
“Why would I ever yell at ya’?” He said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. “Whatever's got your pretty face all stained with tears can’t be that bad. I hate gettin’ mad at ya’, and ya’ know that.”
You nodded, but dug your face deeper into the pillows. Boothill simply put his metal hand on your back, and rubbed up and down. While the sensation felt cold, it seemed to work to help calm you down because you felt more at ease, and he could tell that too. 
“I lost my wedding ring. I don’t know where it went, but one moment it was there and then the next it wasn’t on my hand anymore,” you cut out, trying to hold back more tears. You could see his face change from scared to relaxed.
“Hey, don’t stress it. That’s just a lil’ setback, nothin’ to worry about. We’ll either find it or I’ll buy ya’ a new one,” he says as he picks up your now bare hand, a flash of sadness showing through his eyes. “What’ll make ya’ feel better? Cuddles? If we went out to try n’ find it?”
You shrugged, and he nodded. You buried yourself even deeper into the blankets, giving him the hint that you just wanted to stay inside for now. You felt too bad and your face was rose red from crying, your eyes puffy and your voice raspy. He climbed into the bed with you, wrapping his strong, metallic arm around your covered torso. 
“I’ll do a thorough investigation tomorrow. People don’t usually lie to Galaxy Rangers, but I doubt those adorable cutie pies would know somethin’ like that,” he immediately cringed, realizing how the sentence came out. His stupid synesthesia beacon. 
But he heard you laugh, and the cringe feeling dissipated into a warmth in his metal chest. His whole goal is to keep you happy, healthy, and safe. If he were to fail at one of those things, he’d fail at his own purpose. For now, his only thing is to cheer you up, and make sure you know that he would never be mad at you for a mistake that's not even your fault.
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jojikawa · 13 days
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Beauty and the Beast
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An event where you are a woman in the 50s trying to turn the head of your neighbor, Francis Mosses when you are stalked and pursued by his evil counterpart.
Art by ilameys
Zettai Zetsumei • Co shu Nie
Word Count: 5.7k
⚠️: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT ♥ Manhandling, Slight body horror descriptions, descriptions of blood, himbo!doppelgänger!Francis Mosses, Yandere Behavior, Mentions of Stalking, sexualization of the female MC by Fake Francis, SMUT(CNC, mentions of a "rape kit"), and monster cock.
I write for free, but if you wanna further support me > Ko-Fi 🎀
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Life was somewhat boring for you as a woman in the 50s. Despite being sought after by a lot of the men in your apartment complex, you had your heart set on one man. You only got to see him once a day. Francis Mosses. When he would deliver milk to your door in the morning. No matter how cute or cherry you were, it seemed like his mind was set on other things. The man always looked tired but you thought he was handsome no matter what. Maybe even more handsome…it was just something about hot men being tired that made them so much hotter.
You had hoped that eventually, he’d notice you and finally take you on a date!
But that hope soon faded when you read the newspapers. They talked about how doppelgängers are becoming a lot more frequent and the D.D.D. would be installing new units everywhere to ensure that no evil counterparts are making their way into the homes of others and killing people. You were able to tell if this made you feel safer or a lot more scared. What if someone made a mistake…?
Well, you didn’t have a chance to feel anything really, as the D.D.D. was extremely secretive about this kind of threat. After some time, it became normalized and it soon left your mind. The Doorman job seemed to be pretty effective as you had never seen any monsters before and were very much alive. It was rumored that the creatures would murder and eat any person they encountered if they succeeded in passing as humans. This is another reason you had your heart set on Francis. You felt as though he could protect you at a time like this. Maybe it was naive of you but after all, you were just a girl.
“Good Morning.”
Upon hearing the small knock at your door, you went to greet him. Francis stood tall, rather confused about you coming to get your bottled milk so quickly.
“Oh, good morning…” He replied flatly, gripping the strap of his milk bag. You thought that maybe he had a mutual crush on you and was too shy to act on it. So, you could take that step for him.
“How are you this morning? I hope that life is agreeing with you today.” You stepped outside of your apartment door with your glass of milk in hand. Francis shrugged. “I suppose it is.” He then yawned before saying “What’s wrong? Are you looking for another?”
You blinked. “Huh?” Your eyes then darted down to your hands. “O-Oh…sure.” You smiled attractively, causing him to break eye contact with you. He reached into his milk carrier and revealed and took out another. “You’re only allowed to get one every day but you can have mine.” He walked up to you and placed the bottle into your free hand.
“Th-Thanks!”
“Don’t mention it.”
After he disappeared around the corner, you were filled with joy! That interaction was such a good sign. He gave you his milk bottle. You had to make him something for dinner tonight as a gift!
Thunk!
You almost jumped at the sound of glass falling on the carpet at the far end of the hallway behind you. It looked like an empty milk bottle if you squinted hard enough. There was a shadow as well. It made you feel uneasy and quickly made you retreat into your home.
You wanted to try seeing if you could have more time with Francis. There was a job opening for the D.D.D. Doorman of your building and you instantly took it. Being able to meet with Francis when he wasn’t busy might have your conversations with him take a turn for the better. You really appreciated his selfless gesture. So, seeing him at least twice a day would make your life so much brighter. Francis was the complete package. Tall, handsome, quiet, and most of all, soft-spoken. You’d be a good wife to him.
On the first day of the job, you didn’t receive any proper training. You were given an informational video and a set of instructions that you scrambled to memorize as a long line of your neighbors awaited their inspection outside. The job was easy at first and you did it well. It was a chore but those are easy. You let in the right people and you called the D.D.D. when you found a doppelganger like you were instructed to. Unfortunately, at the end of the day, Francis didn’t pay you any mind. You gave him a soft smile through the glass before asking him about his day. 
“I hope work is treating you well.” You pitched your voice up to sound cuter. Your graceful hands moved swiftly as you sifted through the many layers of documents, trying to organize them before your next neighbor. “Yeah, I suppose.” He answered, blinking rather slowly. Your smile widened. “Any days off soon? I’d like to see you outside of your uniform.” You winked at him and he just shrugged. “Dunno.”
“Well, maybe, sometime after your hard work, you tell me a day you’d think you would be free?” 
You waited with anticipation for his response. He seemed rather confused and it was rather adorable. Then he said “I don’t really know. I think I’m busy but I’ll let you know if that changes.”
Your smile faltered just a little but you were good at faking emotions. “Oh, no worries.” You waved him off in a playful manner before pressing the button to allow him inside. Your shift ended and you thought that you should probably get to making that dinner for him as a ‘thank you’ for the free milk. As you began to clean up, the pressure of your job began to set in. This wasn’t something that you could just quit if Francis were to reject you. Ignoring all the unexplainable noises, the dark figures, and the constant feeling of being watched, it would be very awkward seeing him every day after that.
It was a new day. Francis came to check into the building and you let him go without chatting with him because you didn’t want to seem like a bother. But…then you saw him again.
“Francis?” You cutely tilted your head. The way he looked at you was much different than usual. The Francis you knew could barely make meaningful eye contact with you but right now he had no problem burning holes into your skull with his eyes. Not only that but he was visibly bigger as well. Taller and more masculine. His arms were big and veiny. This was NOT Francis Mosses.
“I-ID…?” You gave a nervous half-smile as you tried to hide your stutter. The humanoid creature gawked, a subtle sense of happiness washing over its face the longer it stayed there. “Don’t have it on me.” It replied plainly. You picked up the clipboard before exing out the box that was labeled “ID.”
“W-Well, you seem to look a lot like someone who’s already checked in. Please, give me a moment to confirm.” You flashed it a close-eyed smile. Upon seeing it, the fake Francis moved closer to the window, fogging it up with its mouth breathing.
You pressed the big red button to close the shutter before dialing the number to the D.D.D. 
The representative told you someone would be over right away to dispose of the doppelgänger. It only took about a minute before they’d arrive. Normally, the shutter would open on its own after being reset by the D.D.D. member but for some reason, it didn’t You figured that now would be a good time to open it to help the last neighbors but when you did, you were not met with the hazmat suit you were so familiar with. 
In front of you was the same fake Francis from before, now covered in some blood. His expression was one of annoyance and the veins in his arms were pulsating as if he were trying to contain some kind of anger.
“E-Excuse me, but you need to—!”
“Let me in.”
Your heart dropped. It talked! And it sounded just like Francis too. 
You shook your head. “N-No! I’m not letting a monster in.” You reached for the number to re-dial the number again.
“But I think you look so pretty today. You wore that just for me, huh? I’d love to t-tear it off of you.” The creature’s neck involuntarily cracked its neck, twisting it in a demonic way. You screamed at the sight, pressing the button once more to close the shutters so that you wouldn’t have to see it. As they went down, the doppelgänger tried to stop it by putting his hand under it. It got caught in the track, causing it to get stuck on the track and it was open halfway.
“Come on, Darling, I know you’re not about to call those bastards again. I don’t want to have to hurt anyone else.” The large man-creature crouched down. You could see his fanged canine teeth poking out of his mouth. You backed away from the window with the telephone in hand.
3312…
You listened to the dial tone for a few seconds before the receptionist answered.
“Hello?”
“P-Please send help!” You cried over the phone. Tears began to spill out of your eyes upon hearing the squeal of metal as the predator stretched and bent it to his will. The glass was the only thing left that could stop him from entering.
You saw how abnormally long his tongue was when it glided over his lips. “I just want to taste you…”
The receptionist dispatched another group of workers to help dispose of the doppelgänger. They arrived almost instantly. It was only then that the fake Francis moved away from the window. You sighed in relief, trying to calm yourself down from the events that transpired. You ran over to the tempered glass. The mental door looked like sheet paper.
You saw no trace of the Hazmat people but you also didn’t see the fake Francis anymore. You quickly gathered your things and rushed to leave. You opened the door to let yourself out. You planned to run to your room and lock the door but as soon as you had left the room, you bumped into a stiff, toned chest. The figure grabbed you by your neck and forced you to look at them. The gloved hand was covered in blood and it stained your skin and the collar of your dress.
“Where do you think you’re going, Princess?”
His grip around your throat was so tight that you weren’t able to form words. It was completely covered in blood and in its other hand was a knife dripping with blood as well. It kept the violence to one side of the room so that you weren’t able to see anything unless you completely left the screening room.
The light clank of the knife hitting the ground could be heard and its newly free hand grabbed your waist. The doppelgänger hugged you to its masculine chest. Its head rested itself on top of yours before it planted its nose in the crown of your head before inhaling your scent deeply. The blaring sound of the alarm continued to go off and it was deafening.
Your nose was overloaded with the scent of fresh blood. The pure shock didn’t let you resist his touch. His grip loosened and you dropped everything you had in your hands on the floor, staining it in with the red substance
“P-Please.”
You felt its large hand around the back of your neck and you feared that it would snap it and kill you any second. You held your breath as you felt it set the other hand on your waist as well, rubbing it gingerly.
It felt like the doppelgänger was sizing you up to see if you’d be a good enough meal for it.
“He-ey, beautiful. It's… okay…” 
The doppelgänger’s speech was somewhat disconnected but it was fluid for the most part. At first, it was clear he was a fake but the more he kept talking, the more it sounded like the real thing…like it was learning in real time.
Your heart rate accelerated when you felt its hand travel ever so slowly from your waist to the collar of your dress. The inhuman smile on its face widened and it suddenly ripped the cloth that covered your torso. You gasped, instinctively covering your now exposed bra.
You wiggled out of its grip and used the opportunity to run. You kicked off your pumps and ran barefoot to your apartment. All you could do was hope that more of the D.D.D. would come and solve the issue before anyone else could get hurt. The emergency alarm was still going off so the authorities should be there soon.
When you arrived at your door, you tried to scramble to look for your keys so that you could get inside but…
…you remembered that you dropped them along with the rest of your possessions.
The sound of heavy footsteps approaching behind you. The large shadow engulfed your smaller form.
“Allow me.” The stranger said, calmly. Their large fist went through the door handle, shattering the lock and making it completely useless. You were too shocked to try running again. It found you.
The doppelganger shoved you against the door, swinging it open and causing you to fall forward inside of your home. You hit the floor with a soft but swift thud. “I see the way you look at him.” Its voice was laced with venom—anger but left more to be desired. It was playing with you awfully long for a creature that was trying to kill you.
“But you’d never look at me that way…”
The Fake Francis entered the apartment making sure to secure the door behind it so that you couldn’t run anymore. You cried and whimpered as it took its sweet time pushing your bookcase in front of the door so no one would intervene with what was supposed to happen next.
“I-I don’t know what you’re—” You couldn’t even finish your sentence as it smashed its lips into yours. Its tongue was like that of a serpent, slipping its way into your mouth. You tried to push it away but any attempts just resulted in your lips connecting once more. It was too strong. 
You were terrified but it passed so much for the real Francis.
“Tell me you don’t like it ‘n I’ll stop.” It whispered into your mouth before it French kissed you once more. You kissed it back, unable to resist his appearance any longer. When it pulled away, a string of saliva connected between both of your mouths. It’s warm breath hits the surface of your face, eyes full of lust and horror.
It’s soft lips attached themselves to your neck, biting and sucking until your skin slowly began turning red. “Mmm.” It hummed deeply, traveling lower and lower until it reached the cavern between your breasts. “You’re sensitive here, aren’t you?” It placed kisses in the valley of your chest, waiting for a reply. You were unable to form words at this point. It wanted to ravage you and steal your innocence. It took your idleness as consent, continuing on with satisfying itself and by extension, satisfying you.
It took the delicate hand you had been using to drive a wedge between the both of you. You thought that at this point it was going to break your arm! You squeezed your eyes shut, ready to endure the pain but…it didn’t. You felt the heated bulge beneath it’s bloodied white trousers. It throbbed. 
That’s when it finally clicked for you. It wasn’t playing with you like you were food. It wasn’t trying to taste you and pick it’s teeth with your bones. It wanted to be with you. To breed you.
“I—ah~♡!” You bit down on your lip to contain the pretty moans that left your mouth. Your bra was removed, fully exposing your breasts. Its tongue touched the tip of your nipple and its mouth enveloped over your entire areola. It licked and sucked on the bud until it was nice and hard. The other hand was subtly slipped under your dress.
It took barely any strength at all to rip the fabric, showing how inappropriately wet you’d become from this activity. It craved the essence that was oozing from your tiny cunt.
At the feeling of the cold wind, you brought your legs together just to have them forced apart again. The creature made you feel so small and vulnerable. It used force when it felt necessary but overall, it was….soft. Licking, kissing, biting but no drawing blood, taste, loving.
It salivated at your legs, raising one and nuzzling the side of its face into the smooth skin. “So…gorgeous.” It pulled you forward. “When I saw you, I knew I wanted you.”
“Y-You did…?” You squeaked. It’s touch sent goosebumps from your limp to the rest of your body. “Two years I’ve been watching you. It was so damn annoying seeing you talk to that piece of meat.”
Piece of meat?
“I don’t know who you mean.” You shied away from the perfect creature. Could it mean…
“F-Francis?” You knitted your eyes together in confusion.
“Yes—HIM!” The doppelgänger dropped your leg and pulled you by your thighs to its crotch. “…I could never decide what skin would be the best to pursue you in. But then I’d see the way you look at him.” Pre-cum was beginning to show from its member inside. You could feel the wet fabric on the lips of your hot cunt. “So, I became him…but better.”
You heard the subtle unzipping sound of the pants and it took out its thick cock. It was larger than normal and didn't look like the standard male genitalia. You’d need to use both hands to hold it.
There was no denying this thing could perfectly replicate a human man. Before you could even react, the big “man” picked you up by your hair.
“Get on your knees.” He commanded and you felt obligated to obey him. You’ve never been in a situation where you were being held up by a man like this.
“I’m gonna split you in half with this cock.” He pushed its large tip against your cheek, straining it with warm cum. “Open your mouth.”
Your lips parted for a moment but you hesitated. There was no way that whole thing could fit into your mouth. Your eyes traveled up to his for guidance. He only stared down at you with hard, tired eyes. The corner of his mouth tugged upward into a smirk.
“I said…open your mouth.”
He spoke through his teeth as if it were a threat. You were reluctant but tried to ease it in. You kissed his tip, causing him to grunt and tighten his fist around your hair. “Open.” He growled, yanking your head back. His cock was so close to your face that you could truly take in its side. It was nearly the length of your skull. 
You opened your mouth out of fear and he shoved it inside. He was kind enough to let you get used to it in your throat by going soft and slow…or maybe he was just distracted by the imprint showing on your throat. 
You grabbed his hips to keep yourself from falling backward. Even a bit of force made you lose your balance. “Good girl.” He sighed, relaxing into you, pushing the limits by pushing it deeper. Your choking and gagging only made him feel pleasure.
“You struggling with my dick in your mouth is so hot.” You heard him mutter under his breath. Your eyes began to water from the choking, causing tears to carry mascara down your cheeks.
“Keep sucking.” He fucked into your throat and gentle too. “I’m close.”
 Both of his hands found themselves on the back of your head. He sped up his pace until a loud groan emitted from his chest and a mysterious liquid found its way down your throat.
The doppelgänger let go of your hair. You fell back on your bottom and he crouched down. “Hey.” He called, grabbed both sides of your face with one hand. He squeezed your cheeks together. “Swallow.”
You swallowed what was left and once he knew it was in your belly, his lips crashed into yours. His tongue wormed its way into your mouth and explored every cavern.
You felt yourself get lifted again but this time to your feet. He walked you over to your dining table and shoved you into it. “Bend over.”
You didn’t really get a choice. When you tried to stand, he forced you down to the table with his hand on the back of your head. 
You expected him to say something, but he stayed silent. You felt him explore your backside from your hips to your exposed ass. The wind was so cold but his hands were so warm.
He chuckled darkly, spreading your ass cheeks and sticking his shaft in between. His dick was so much bigger than you that you would definitely have a belly bulge because of it. He wanted to experience it for himself.
You waited with silent anticipation for him what he would do next. You weren’t too sexually active anymore because you wanted to reserve that for the real Francis, if you ever got the chance with him, so you were really nervous about having something so big inside.
“Uah!” You squeaked, feeling a wet, warm muscle enter the deepest part of your cunt. It was his tongue!
You whipped your head around to see that his face was buried in you from behind. “Mmm.” You heard him hum vibrations into you. He consumed all of your juices as they came out. It must’ve tasted so good coming from a pretty human like you.
With every moan and whimper that left your mouth, it made his dick grow harder and harder. He didn’t stop until you had creamed all over his tongue. So much came out that it got all over his face too.
“I-Is that it? Is that what you want…?” You asked, but you were only ignored.
“Pick a hole.”
“Wh-wha—“
“Pick a hole, or I will.”
Pick…a hole…?
His large thumb massaged your asshole while his knuckles, now sleek with your cream, was stimulating your pussy.
“Um…I—“ 
“Both it is!”
Your eyes widened. “Wait, what?!”
You felt his thumb sink deep into your ass while he struggled to get his large tip into your pussy. “Damn you’re fucking tight.” He growled through his teeth. His free hand grabbed your ass, fingers sinking in so deep they’d leave marks. 
“W-Wait, you have to go slow!” You cried, face heating up from being touched in such filthy ways. “I am.” He grumbled, pushing the limits of your vagina by forcing himself inside. Despite going at the pace of a snail, the pain of trying to fit himself inside didn’t decrease at all. You helplessly clawed at the table beneath you. It didn’t matter how wet you were. He was too big.
It took a moment but he was able to get it. It slipped in with much ease on his end but the difference inside made you gasp so hard you needed to cover your mouth.
The doppelgänger began thrusting without warning, quickly overstimulating you. You could feel him in your stomach too. You reach back to push him off of you but he just grabbed your arm and kept it. There wasn’t much you could do to get someone this big off of you. You would only take it.
“P-Please…I can’t take it!” You gapped out, drool escaped your mouth as you tried to form words. He was fucking you so hard you couldn’t even think. All that could be heard around the room was the lewd slapping of his filled balls against the bottom of your pussy. 
“Beg for it then. Say you love me.” His breath hitched. “Say you want me and I’ll let you go.”
“I—“ Slap! 
You tried to speak. “I wa—“ Slap!
It seemed that when you tried to comply with him, he’d remove the hand playing with your asshole to leave a rough, skin-reddening slap on your ass. Your struggling amused him. He couldn’t help but smile.
The doppelgänger has been stalking you for so long. It was hard getting into your apartment normally because of the last doorman but he couldn’t resist you once you were sitting at that desk.
“What’s wrong?” He teased, his deep voice going soft. “My dick isn’t in your mouth anymore…so what’s the issue?” He chuckled. “Beg.”
“I want you!” You blurted out.
“You…want me? Say there’s no one else. Say you love me!” It was like music to his ears, really. It was helping him reach his climax.
“I…I love you—“
“FUCK!”
Your belly bulge quickly became bigger as his cum painted your walls and womb. Even with his dick growing more flaccid, he continued to fuck his cum into you so that you both knew who you belonged to now. Tears spilled out of your eyes as you squirted onto his cock, mixing your juices together.
“I love you too, Princess. More than you could ever imagine—“ Before he could finish, his ears perked up almost like an animal. His attention turned towards your door that he had destroyed before. “Here they come.” He muttered, putting his member back into his pants.
You weakly lifted yourself from the table. Your hand placed itself tight below your navel. It was so sore now. “Who’s coming…? What are you talking about…?”
The doppelgänger ignored you, its horns flesh and bones began contorting and changing color. Its physique turned from that of a huge masculine man to the familiar form of that of a D.D.D. member. Yellow suit and all. 
It ran to the door, opening it, and sticking its head out. “I found her, she's in here!” Its voice changed to a generic man as well. Not at all like the deep gruff from before.
Your legs felt like jelly, you fell to the ground as soon as you were able to stand. They were numb from the pleasure, leaving you unable to walk.
What happened next went by as a blur. The D.D.D. Reinforcement Team took you to a hospital where you were taken care of and given rape kit. You were unable to refuse it once the forensics team found semen at the scene. In order to maintain faith in the D.D.D., your assault was largely covered up but only those who were in the apartment that day knew about it.
After the commotion of filing our paperwork and giving information, you were sent home. You didn’t sustain any life threatening injuries but you were asked to come in periodically to see how your body would react to having the semen of a doppelgänger inside of you…so now you were a bit of a test subject to them. You quit the job after that but you were quickly replaced by a new guy. 
You hadn’t seen the doppelgänger the entire time. Or at least, you thought you didn’t. You wanted to process the situation but you were more confused as to why it craved so much validation from you. It wanted you to say you loved it. It wanted you to say that you wanted it. It said that it’s been waiting two years to be this close to you. It looked like Francis.
You had just arrived back home. Carpenters quickly replaced your door before you got home and you decided to continue life as usual by making dinner for yourself. Your heart still aches from the fear you felt when you thought you were going to die. And so did your vagina. It didn’t bleed, thank god, but it was sore to the touch from how big that monster was.
“Man, I thought you’d never come back.”
You were alone in your kitchen when a voice emitted from behind you. The familiarity in the voice made your heart drop. You quickly turned around to see the doppelgänger from before, masquerading as Francis again.
“What are you doing here? What do you—“
“Shh, princess.” He strided through your small kitchen, stepping so close to you that you were against the counter with nowhere else to go. You placed your hands on his chest, giving you the illusion that you could push him away. He grabbed your arm by the wrist before kissing the inside of your palm. He kissed your fingers and then the back of your hand before making you cup his cheek, which he nuzzled into lovingly.
You wanted to rip your hand away but his grip was so strong. You blushed. Was it wrong to admit that he…it, was attractive? 
“Why didn’t you kill me and eat me? Why did you do that to me?” You questioned meekly. His eyes were closed, enjoying your warm touch with a smile before they opened. His eyes were like hunter's eyes. “Because I love you.” He replied flatly. 
“I don’t know what that means…” 
You opened your mouth to speak again but you were cut off by a knock at your door. 
“I’ll get it.” The doppelgänger quickly said and in a mere second, it shapeshifted to turn into…you. It was able to mimic you in all your glory, including the hickeys, bites and bruises from your attack.
“No!” You blurted out. “Don’t do that.”
The doppelgänger allowed you to move away from it and your arm fell to your side. You went to get the door but you made sure to check who it was before opening.
It was Francis!
“It’s him!” You hurried to your bedroom to find your cardigan to cover your tattered clothes before answering the door.
“Francis? What brings you here?” You forced a smile but your eyes looked just as tired as his. You couldn’t hide anything from him.
“I heard what happened. ‘m so glad you’re okay.” Francis sighed, quickly invading your personal space. He hugged you to his chest. You blinked “F-Francis…?”
“I felt all torn up when I thought you died but when I heard that you were just fine, I just had to come see you myself.” Your stomach burned with delight. Francis was worried about you?
Francis let go of you and you pulled away. His face was red like he was blushing and you couldn’t help but blush too. Your lips curled into a smile. “W-Well, I’m a lot tougher than I look.”
He wanted to smile back but he couldn’t. He saw the marks on your skin. You were hurt. “I know you are.” He masked his sadness with a weak smile. He rested his hand on your head and ruffled it a bit.
It would probably be inappropriate for him to admit that he’s actually had feelings for you all this time, so he’d save it for another day. Hearing the news about the doppelgänger through gossip during his job of going door to door made him realize he could lose you at any moment. But today, he settled with placing a kiss at the crown of your head. “Stay safe. I’ll check on you again later.”
For a moment, everything in your life went still. Even after he had walked away and left you standing there, it didn’t feel real. This more or less confirmed he had a crush on you as well. No man just does that and doesn’t see you as more than just a neighbor.
Your heart fluttered as you came back to reality. You slipped back inside of your home. You need to get cleaned up! You had to bathe and find something suitable just in case Francis wanted to come inside upon your next meeting.
But then….
“You look awfully happy.”
The doppelgänger was still here. You gulped, seeing his much bigger form. He grabbed the sides of your face with his hand again. He didn’t bother crouching because of your size difference, leaving you standing on the tips of your toes.
You were too shocked to try defending yourself, so he continued. “I saw everything so don’t even try to lie. That bastard is so lucky that I have to lay low until the D.D.D. gets their claws out of you or else I would’ve…”
“Don’t hurt him!” You tried to beat and punch his arm to get him off but he didn’t budge. “Why not?!”
“Because…I’ll be sad. And you don’t want me to be sad, do you?” Your voice was unlabeled and lacked confidence. It was a Hail Mary but you’d do anything to prevent Francis from getting hurt.
“Shit.” The doppelgänger let go of you, setting you back on your feet. It seemed…conflicted. He paced around your living room briefly. It had a soft spot for you but you could tell it has trouble processing emotions like a person. It was just imitating a person to get what it wanted.
“You don’t want him. You just wanna marry a guy. I’ll marry you.” 
You shook your head. “No. Y-You can’t. You’re not him.”
“Of course I am.” His expression became mischievous. A smirk settled on his handsome face. “You can even call me Francis in bed if it fancies you.” 
You felt your stomach do a flip!
“No! I’m not calling you that. Even though you look just like him…wh-what do I call you anyway…?” You retreated inward, hugging yourself and looking quite nervous as if the situation was beginning to dawn on you. You were currently desired by one of the most dangerous beings in the world.
“Francis.”
“Stop! I’m never using that name for you.” You got angry enough to shove him but he didn’t move an inch. You quickly realized that you shouldn’t push too hard or else it might change its mind and kill you. 
“Mmm….” You pursed your lips, avoiding eye contact with the monster. “Wh-What about Franz? Is that good enough for you…?”
Franz, huh?
“Perfect.”
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Tagged Folks: @z3r0art @chilifrylizard2
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chastiefoul · 29 days
Text
—finally giving up on your unrequited love ft. alhaitham
a/n: ouch i hurt myself writing this. wc: 1.6k words of yapping about unrequited feelings
once upon a time you were grateful for alhaitham’s indifference, the lack of anything he was being when you’re badgering him with chatters, a detailed description of your day, concerns over him, and the occasional gifts.
it seemed like a blessing once, like acceptance. the slightest open of the door, thinking you could invite yourself in and he’d embrace that fact. but as his apathy remain constant and unchanging, you’ve come to realization—an embarassing one at that.
that indifference, that should’ve been a sign for you; alhaitham will never return your feelings.
-
 a stroll a day, keeps the stressful thoughts away.
however today’s walk is just not doing it for you, once you decided to wake up from the dreamland you thought you’ve been living in. a faraway and unrealistic vision of a life where you end up together with the akademiya scribe. an exaggerated sigh escaped you at your own daydreaming. usually by now you’d be quick on your feet to visit the scribe, however the overdue revelation you had last night made you finally think twice before doing it. and only because of that now you’d realized just how much of your life was centered on the grey-haired man, which was a scary discovery, knowing just exactly how little you mattered to his.
you found an empty bench mid-walk, immediately sitting on it. you leaned back, both of your hands holding your weight as you look above. the sky was clear that day, but your mind was clearer, as if a thick fog has finally been lifted.
seriously, what have you been doing all this time? giving your all to someone who wanted none of you. alhaitham’s curt nod, his brief and short responses really should’ve been a clue as to how he felt about you. yet you kept being stubborn, and sometimes hope was human’s greatest enemy. what should have been a bare minimum gesture he did, your mind managed to twist it into something more; clinging to it like a water on a desert. when it turned out that was exactly all there was to it—a mirage.
you chuckled sadly. even remembering those pathetic displays, you couldn’t bring yourself to fully regret having this feeling towards alhaitham. those moments where you’d steal a glance at him and felt like the world was okay. you would not allow yourself to forget that as you became more selfish, wanting him to look at you and feel the same. but here you were, reluctantly learning to accept the fact that he may never does.
suddenly a shadow loomed over you, shielding you from the sunlight you didn’t realize was so bright.
a familiar blond invaded your vision. “(y/n)?” he called out unsure, not expecting you to be there. “oh hi there, kaveh,” you lightly said, as if your heavy train of thoughts hadn’t existed at all. you adjusted your sitting position, shifting yourself to the side as you spare an empty spot beside you for him to sit. kaveh swiftly took your silent offer up, making himself as comfortable as he could on the wooden bench. “i spotted you from afar and you seemed a little troubled, hopefully i was wrong?” the ever so kind kaveh spoke up, and you couldn’t help but smile. kaveh always felt like a friend more than alhaitham ever was, albeit knowing him after you got to know the scribe. you weren’t even sure if the grey-haired man would ever mention even a word about his roommate if it wasn’t for you hanging wround on his office on a peaceful lunch break when the fuming blond barged in and yell at him about a key.
as it turned out, it’s a known fact that most people became quiet irritable when it comes to being in contact with the curt and aloof scribe, since kaveh has been nothing but a good friend since the day he gave you a weird look about wanting to get close to the acting grand master.
“it’s kind of complicated to say,” you started, thinking of the words as you went on. “let’s just say i’m having a quite bittersweet moment.”
you rested your gaze on the bustling street in front of you. he nodded in reply, “i’m guessing it’s more bitter than it is sweet?” he asked genuinely as you smiled once more despite not feeling a drop of mirth. “i suppose so,” you replied curtly, not knowing what to say to his keen observation. keen and exactly correct.
it’s the kind of bitterness that lingered. a kind of flavor you’d expected, since you’re the one who put it in. still, when that sharp taste hit your tongue you couldn’t help but flinch. after all, things don’t stop affecting you even though you saw it coming from miles away. you just hoped the sweetness will get stronger overtime, overpowering as it wash down the unpleasant aftertaste.
kaveh mirrored your smile in return except his looked particularly patronizing, as if he could sense your helplessness.
“will you tell me what happened?” his voice sounded gentle, a care you’ve never heard from the man you’d give a limb to for him to say things along that line. how do you even begin to answer such a simple question? nothing happened, and that’s why it was the problem. the fact that you’re the only one who’s mulling all over this, being so conflicted to what he thought must be nothing. a pain so overwhelming that’s swirling all over your chest while his biggest inconvenient that day was probably a typo made in a document made by a lousy student.
the whole thing just sounded so... pathetic.
“nothing happened... it’s just, i have decided to finally give up on something,” you try your best to sound nonchalant despite having no bravery to look at him, scared that he didn’t look like he believed you.
“well, i might know a thing or two about it. sometimes when an architecture project is too... unreasonable,” kaveh paused, the word tasted like a sour lime on his mouth. “there’s no way but to give it up. especially if you take a step back as take the whole picture from many aspects; in my case, there are budget, location, materials, and so on. there would definitely be some regret about letting go especially an ambitious task, however i think many of my past-self would really like to give the present-me a big gratitude for not forcing it through,” he rambled on, despite having no idea what were you referring on. “even sometimes, the reward was just not worth the risk, you know?” he ended it at that, throwing the question at you.
you swallowed on nothing, but you needed that to let out a reply.
“yes, i do know.”
“yeah? does this mean in your case, whatever you were fighting for was not worth it in the end?”
oh, that’s the worst part. you knew, you knew it with your heart, body and soul that it would be so worth it if there’s an outcome, a scenario where alhaitham might return your feelings. oh it would be so worth it. you could smile, just imagining how worth it would it be.
but that was all it was. an unattainable imagination. an ending that you couldn’t allow yourself to be so cocky to reach.
kaveh waited for your respond patiently, but when the silence had gone for too long he moved his stare to you. he widened his eyes, his gaze softened.
“i don’t think you’re as okay as you made yourself to be,” he said softly, as you felt your cheeks wet by the uninvited tears, running along freely across your face. yet, you couldn’t make an effort to stop them, your heart knew more than anyone you needed that. to feel the sadness, to recognize it.
to let go of the fact that alhaitham will never return your feelings.
kaveh was just quiet as you sobbed quietly, putting a handkerchief silently at the space between you both. there is no empty consolation, no comforting words, no small pats on the back. there’s just silence, a little safe bubble for you to cry in without people coming over to you and asked why.
giving up is such a funny thing, how could doing it hurt more than to keep trying even though you received no sign of reciprocity at all? but you knew the answer of that.
when there hasn’t been a rejection, it’s in everyone’s nature to have hope. a hope that there’s a chance of obtaining something you’ve wished for. a chance that something could happen.
giving up means finality. a state of accepting an outcome you hadn’t wanted. a result you never asked for. an ending where all that’s left was what should have and what could have. a harsh reality people could only accept as it dangled the possibilities and visions of what ‘could have happened’ if you’d just kept trying right in front of your eyes.
like chasing your own shadow; a fun thing to do when you’re a child, but now it’s just a fitting metaphor, reminding you of a fool’s way who love in such a pathetic way.
-
once upon a time you were grateful for alhaitham’s indifference, the lack of anything he was being when you’re badgering him with chatters, a detailed description of your day, concerns over him, and the occasional gifts.
but now it’s definitely a curse. after all, anything that has to do with love was not indifference.
it was never, indifference.
---
the urge to write this in alhaitham pov........................ should i?
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