#MAYBE IF YOU HADN'T MURDERED A MAN
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Decoy [S. R.]
Spencer Reid x fem!reader
word count: 6.9k
summary: when you go after an unsub who catches students making out, the unit is called upon to resort to desperate measures. Or in other words, where you and Spencer become the decoy to catch a voyeur.
warnings: +16. Making out, mentions of alcohol, mentions of violence, insinuation of smut, sexual tension
Do yourself a favor and imagine Spencer in these clothes during the case
You sighed, completely frustrated, while you looked for the thousandth time at the blackboard with some information from the profile that you had made for the criminal in this case.
You believed that the unsub was a Caucasian man between 30 and 35 years old, whose motive was to spy on and photograph university students who were escaping in their cars to make out at night, then force them to have sex in front of him and finally kill them cold-blooded. You imagined that he was a person with a mediocre job, that he felt insufficient, and that his voyeuristic behavior probably came from sexual frustration, something that could be corroborated by the violence that he inflicted on the genital area of the students whom he stalked using a knife, his mark on all homicides. You also believed that perhaps the rejection or abandonment of his last partner (preceded by a bad streak from his youth) due to his impotence had been the triggering event for all his repressed impulses to come to light.
All the psychological analysis was fine, it wasn't something you hadn't seen before, but the hard part of all this? Because he only threatened and killed people, he didn't rape them, at first it was almost impossible to tell who it was. He already had 20 victims in total and you weren't even close to catching him. In the last scene he had made the mistake of leaving a fingerprint and Garcia had been able to trace his true identity: Oliver Davis, a guy who fits the description perfectly. Unfortunately, this turned out to be useless because beyond the accusations of being a pervert, the man didn’t have much information that would give a clue to his whereabouts, you had even called the job that he had registered and all you had obtained was that he had several months without working there, which coincided with the beginning of the murders. After that Rossi suggested that he probably lived in a trailer (old, due to his lack of employment) where he developed the photographs and kept his trophies. That only made more sense when you thought that it would make it easier to transport or escape in case things got messy.
But words on paper and intelligent conclusions were of absolutely no use to you. You needed a plan to catch him.
"Do you have something, Reid?" Hotch had asked. You had already interviewed some students, you had set up guard duty to look for any suspicious behavior and you had even shared the photograph of the suspect in the media, but nothing had worked; The only thing left was to carry out the geographical profile to know the area in which he was attacking and thus be able to search for possible targets.
“I triangulated the locations we have of his previous homicides and I'm guessing he hits in this specific area,” he muttered, pointing to a space on the map he had on his blackboard with his middle finger. “Considering it's an area frequented by the age group due to its proximity to the universities and that it has several parks that the students told us they use to drink or go out as a couple”
"So what?" Morgan said from his spot. "We just wait until he kills someone else and hopefully we're near the scene to hear the screams?"
“Maybe we can ask the cops to patrol the area for the unsub's car,” JJ suggested.
“He's smart, there's a trailer park right here. It wouldn't be strange to find one on the streets as well.” Reid was visibly frustrated like everyone else and he ran a hand through his hair with some despair.
Your options were running out and frankly you couldn't think of anything else.
“And if we give him a target?” Emily murmured. Noticing that none of you said anything, she went on to explain her plan, “We ask police officers to send any young people they see around to home so we force our unsub to get close to who we want”
"And what are we going to do? Hire a couple of college kids to stalk them?”
“We can use our own team”
"Not to offend you, Prentiss, but we are no longer in the prime of youth"
"We don't, but Y/L/N and Reid do" when you heard your last name you were surprised, but when you heard your friend's you practically froze. First you looked at her and then at the doctor, whose gaze reflected the same stupefaction as you "You two are young, you might look like students"
"Are you saying you want to send us straight into the hands of a sexual predator?" you couldn't be offended, after all, those risks were part of the job, but you did feel somewhat reluctant about the idea.
“Do you have a better suggestion?”
“It doesn't sound so bad” Rossi murmured “It's a smart move”
“Besides, we would be watching around and we would intervene before that madman got close to you. Once we catch him, the photographs and personal items that he probably has in his trailer will be enough evidence, in addition to the fingerprint from the last crime scene” to your surprise, Derek was also pretty convinced of the plan that Emily had just devised.
"Reid, Y/L/N, would you guys be up for it?" Hotch exclaimed with his usual serious tone, looking at you and then at your partner.
Thinking objectively, the suggestion was very good. But thinking about it personally, you felt worried about the danger you two would be running into… oh, God. It wasn't until then that you realized that the plan to catch the suspect involved the two of you making out like a couple of hormonal college kids.
You knew that the options that remained wouldn’t be as opportune as that and taking into account the temporary nature with which Oliver operated, in addition to the fact that he was already deteriorating as a murderer, it was most likely that he was already looking for new victims, so if you did that same night the chances of success were quite high. You were between a rock and a hard place and all you could do was look at him while the gazes of the rest of the room were divided between the two of you.
“I… I'll only do it if you say yes” you exclaimed in his direction, with a cautious voice and a fearful look. You knew your friend and you didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable in any way, even though you knew that both you and he knew that your personal interests would take precedence against the possibility that another couple of victims would lose their lives if you refused. It was your job, you had to do it.
"Are you sure you guys are going to catch him before something happens?" Spencer asked your boss. You thought that with his background the last thing he wanted was to end up kidnapped or seriously injured again, even though the truth was that he was caring just as much about himself as he was about you. He had seen the photographs and knew that women were the most affected by the murder weapon… he didn't even want to imagine something like this happening to you.
"Of course. You will have communication with us and if something goes wrong we will get you out of there immediately" Aaron answered and your friend sighed nervously and then looked for your approval. You nodded slightly and he delivered the verdict, to which everyone agreed.
He was still standing, but after that he slumped into the nearest chair as he listened to everyone brainstorming ideas for setting up the scene, distributing the crew, and what they would tell the local police to do to make the decoy effective.
At some point you lost the whole point of the conversation, to start thinking about what was implied by what you were about to do.
The feeling of attraction for your co-worker had been latent in you for a couple of years, but you had never confessed it to anyone to avoid creating tension in the team or suffering the humiliation of certain rejection. Also, you knew that a crush meant distractions from what was truly important and you had tried, in vain, to eliminate it completely. But even if it hadn't completely gone, you had known how to control it, only allowing yourself to look at him with loving eyes from time to time and avoiding being too confident with him during group drinking outings. You even limited physical contact, not because you didn't like it but because you knew your greed would demand more and more of you until it became inevitable to beg for his touch. But now all that good work holding you back was screwed because in a few hours you would have to be passionately making out with him.
Still with the internal crisis, you raised your head to look at him and realized that he too had been submerged in his own tide of thoughts, which you hoped would be more positive than yours. At some point Spencer felt you watching him and when his eyes met yours he gave you that tight-lipped smile that was strangely comforting, to which you responded with the same gesture. After that it didn't take long for everyone to leave the room to fulfill their respective tasks, but you stayed seated because you honestly didn't feel enough energy to move. Besides, you had nothing entrusted to you, you were the bait.
"Hey, are you sure you're okay with this?" Spencer asked you, once everyone else had left. He looked so tired of everything, but at the same time there was a kind tone in his voice about him that made you smile.
“It's just kissing, Spence. I think we'll be fine" you assured him, trying to swallow all your embarrassment and nerves "And you?"
"I agree. I just hope we get lucky today or we'll just have to keep trying”
"Reid, I need you to tell the cops what area we'll be in," Hotch interrupted you from the door. "You still have time to regret it," he added, looking at the two of you.
You immediately denied and after that Spencer withdrew from there in the company of Aaron. When you were about to drop you exhaled, completely concerned about the last thing your partner had said.
We will just have to keep trying. You didn't know if the idea excited you, or terrified you.
As night fell, Spencer drove the old pickup truck the unit had managed to rent for the two of you to drive into the park, with you in the passenger seat and a six-pack of beer in the backseat.
Although you were sure that it would be cold, you had decided to wear shorts and a button-down shirt that you normally wore for work, but that you had adjusted to make it look more youthful. Spencer was wearing an outfit that Morgan had gotten for him from a department store, simple jeans with a rather baggy cotton shirt and some nice boots that you didn't know where he got from, since in Quantico you had never seen him wear anything like that.
Both of you had showered at the hotel (separately of course) and you had made sure to brush your teeth and put on a good amount of deodorant and perfume before getting in the car. You had paid special attention to your appearance, not because it was necessary, but because you wanted to look perfect for him. Even with all this, you were a nervous wreck next to him, not saying a word along the way and only soft music from the radio filling the air.
When you stopped, the two of you put your headphones on to the channel the team was supposed to be on, and Morgan answered in the affirmative.
"Remember, he doesn't have to see the communicator or your weapon," Rossi spoke, who was also in the van, along with Prentiss and Hotch. "García will be watching with the security cameras and he will warn us if the trailer is coming"
"And meanwhile what do we do?"
"Pretend to be a couple, sit on the tailgate and drink beer, laugh, I don't know"
“Did you ever run away like that in college?” you asked, directly at Reid.
“Do you remember that I was like 16 when I studied at the university, right? I wasn't even old enough to drive, much less a car" he muttered and you gave a short laugh "I guess you did"
“I was too busy being the best in the institution to even think about going out and making out with idiots,” you replied, proud of yourself for that. “I mean, it's not like you're an idiot, but they were. You're very smart," you rambled, still twiddling your fingers, "Hotch, you guys will tell us when we're going to start kissing, will you?"
“When the suspect approaches, yes”
"Okay, well... then we have to go out, huh?" you muttered to him as you reached for the beers and tried to open the door to get out. You turned, expecting to see Spencer do the same as you, but noticed that he had lingered in the car for a moment, checking himself in the mirror and applying his lips with chapstick.
My God, could that man make you more nervous?
When he finally caught up with you, you went to the back of the pickup, where you opened the tailgate to sit down with a little hop. Spencer was tall enough to keep up with you just by leaning over the edge, where you watched him cross his arms. You were silent for a few moments, listening to the sound of crickets and cars in the distance.
"Do you think it's a good idea to drink?"
"Only a little. I'm having a hard time thinking while sober, I don't want to ruin the little reasoning I have left” you exclaimed as a joke. Or maybe you weren't joking so much "Just empty a couple of cans and leave them on the floor so he'll think we're really drunk." Spencer was about to do what you said when you noticed an important detail and called him over to look at you "Come here, let me fix your hair."
"What's wrong with my hair?"
"You're very well combed, it's not the image we expect" you carefully took his hand until it was close enough to pass the other through all his golden locks, messing them up enough to give him that relaxed touch that he should have. He looked so handsome, but not in the style of a fancy FBI agent but just like a young intellectual who went to parties and smoked weed “Like this. Perfect"
“Do you think we have to think of some backstory?” he asked and you looked at him with a frown. “You know, something about us. What degree are we studying, what are our names…”
"This is not a play"
"It's rude to eavesdrop on conversations, Prentiss," you said visibly annoyed, although looking at your partner that expression softened "As you wish, Spencer. Although being honest, I would say that you study… literature”
"Really?" he exclaimed with slight enthusiasm. You knew that his mother had been a teacher in the subject and you wondered if he had ever considered it.
“Morgan wasn’t wrong to choose those clothes for you. It suits you” you complimented him and Morgan whistled from the other end of the line. You felt like you were having too much fun for the situation you were in, but you needed to talk about something else to put off the reminder of what you had come to do for as long as possible. “I think you would have that hopeless philosopher/romantic vibe who flirts by whispering memorized poetry in your ear.”
“I actually know some good ones”
"Sure you do" you smiled gently, suppressing the thought of him sighing close to your neck at Bécquer "I'd probably study science or something."
"The unattainable scientist with whom the captain of the soccer team has a secret crush, but she is completely unaware"
"Where did you get that? From a 90s movie?
Spencer's laugh was one of your favorite sounds and today that was precisely not helping your situation. You felt intoxicated by how handsome he looked, like you'd discovered a side to him that no one else had, and the thought of kissing him made you tremble a little with anticipation.
“Do you want to share a beer?” he murmured, carefully opening the can and offering it to you first. You knew your partner wasn't the most enthusiastic about doing anything that involved germs, so it made you feel good that he took the lead. You took a big gulp of the drink to gather something of value and when it was his turn to drink he kept looking at you intently, you would even say that he seemed entranced.
You had made sure you were in a strategic position, with enough light for the unsub to see you and quite lonely, except for the patrol cars and the van that had been positioned at a safe distance.
“How does voyeurism develop?” you asked quietly, with genuine interest, as you shifted a bit to get closer to him.
“Voyeurism usually begins in adolescence and since during that age it is usually seen with greater tolerance, there are people who continue with these behaviors until adulthood. When voyeurism is pathological, they spend considerable time looking for opportunities to watch, often at the expense of not fulfilling important responsibilities in their lives, and people reach orgasm by masturbating during or after watching. Although if you think about it a bit, everyone is a bit of a voyeur."
"Why you said so?"
“Many men and women enjoy viewing pornography, which can be classified as voyeuristic behavior. It's not a worrying thing, but it's interesting to think about it” he explained, with those expressions on his face that he had every time he shared knowledge with you. He liked that about you, that you were always willing to listen to his data and statistics even at the most inopportune moments.
"I'm still a little scared that Oliver is trying to do something to us."
“I have my gun. If he tries to do something to you, I'll use it" you knew that killing the unsub was always the last option Reid considered, so you widened your eyes a little to show your surprise "All lives are worth, but when that life has already taken so many and it puts you at risk, I would not doubt it. You have nothing to worry about” he assured you and your heart warmed a little at feeling so protected.
"Do you know if Oliver attacks at a specific time?"
"No, he doesn’t. Just as we can be here for ten minutes, we can also be here all night."
You exhaled loudly, before taking another gulp of beer.
“Drink some, boy. I feel kind of selfish around here."
"I am nervous"
"And why do you think I'm drinking?" you exclaimed wryly, still holding out the can to him, and when he finally agreed he drank a little more than you expected “Have you ever…” you started to say, but suddenly remembered that literally the whole team was listening to you. If the answer was embarrassing, you didn't want to hear Morgan and Emily taunting you all week, so you covered your microphone for a moment and spoke again, but so quietly that only he could hear you. "I suppose you kissed someone, did you?"
"Yes," he said quickly and you sighed with relief. It comforted you a little to know that it wasn't his first kiss, because you didn't want him to have such a bad memory “Do I look so inexperienced?"
"No, that's not what I meant" you smiled "You're handsome, I know you've probably kissed a couple of girls"
"You don't need to tell lies, you know I'll kiss you anyway"
"But it's not a lie. I really think you're handsome" you confessed, gathering all the courage in you, while you smiled at him in the most serene way possible "And if we weren't literally waiting for a murderer, you know I'd be happy to do this with you"
"Smooch me?"
"Having this bad date attempt, Reid," you hissed, flushing red, as you slammed your palm into his forehead with just a little bit of force. Spencer seemed quite pleased that he made you nervous, rather than the other way around, so he grinned, “Though I think we should have brought food. I'm starving,” you pouted, swinging your dangling legs back and forth.
"That's not a picnic, Y/N"
You hated for a second that everyone was so intent on the conversation. A part of you wanted a moment alone with the brunette, even if it was in the midst of such a strange situation.
You began to talk pleasantly about things completely unrelated to the case for a couple of minutes, staying where you were, until Hotch's interruption made you jump a bit in place.
"Garcia intercepted an approaching trailer, get ready” your heart immediately sped up and you noticed him tense beside you, too, probably with the same thought flooding his head.
"Okay, come closer," you exclaimed, trying not to panic, as you spread your legs a little to allow the man to step into the space between. He wasted no time and just as you wrapped your hands around his shoulders you heard the sound of another car pulling up.
"Is that our unsub?"
"It is"
You were about to turn your head to peek when Reid grabbed your cheek and stopped you.
"He's smart. If you look at him, he'll realize it” he reminded you with a serious voice. You were so worried about everything that you were forgetting about your training “Okay, so I… Is it okay if I put my hands here?” he asked with a different tone, nervously placing both hands on your waist. You had always admired the size and anatomy of those hands, but until now you had not had the pleasure of feeling them on your body in this way.
“Tonight everything you do is fine. I promise"
"It would be a good time to start, he'll see you" Emily reminded you and you could only sigh shakily.
You two were adults, why were you so scared about kissing?
"Close your eyes" Spencer whispered to you, masking his nerves better than you "I'll kiss you, just close them," he asked you and you did.
You felt his body lean against you a little until his chest almost touched yours and then his lips shakily pressed against yours. You would always remember your first kiss, which in essence was such a brief caress that you didn't even know if it could be counted as one, the one where he wordlessly asked your permission to explore your mouth. Still with your eyes closed, you pulled him by the neck towards you and started a new kiss, a little more confident and deep this time, allowing you to savor the beer mixed with strawberries and that strange flavor that each person has.
“We…” you started to say, once you separated “you have to do it slowly, what he wants is a show” you exclaimed. Spencer felt unable to say any words and your hands caressing him so deliciously wasn't helping at all “Slow,” you repeated.
You arched your back a little to get even closer and when you finally looked up you met his caramel eyes. You needed a moment to recover and you unconsciously licked your lips, as if you needed to pick up and savor his presence in your mouth again, something that didn’t go unnoticed by his attentive look at your movements.
It didn't take long for you to give up, as beginning the third kiss you felt that you no longer had any control over your body, your heart, or your mind. And while it was true that neither of you were experts on the subject, you guys managed pretty well as the seconds ticked by. Spencer gasped as he simultaneously felt you pull the hair from his neck and caress his lips with the tip of your tongue, while you were taken by surprise when his hands left your waist and lowered to the height of your hip, where his thumbs gripped firmly on the clip of your shorts.
There was a kiss, then another and another; they became too many to count. You didn't want to touch him anywhere and at the same time you wanted to touch him completely, in the grip of the fantasy that this was real and not just a performance. And even if you were aware that it was all fake, that would probably only have encouraged you to enjoy something to the fullest that you knew would never come back. Amid everything you didn’t know which of the two situations would be worse.
The sound of your lips colliding became so obscene that you were embarrassed, but you had no plan to stop. Your hands slid gently down the length of his neck until you reached his chest and cupped the soft cotton of his garment in your fists to make sure he didn't move away from you. The heat of the moment just went up and up, but a voice on the intercom brought you back with a jolt.
“He started the trailer. He's going to go"
Spencer closed his eyes in frustration, and you sighed. From the position he was in it wasn’t possible to get around him without being seen, so keeping all his attention was on you and him.
Maybe you weren't doing it right? You wondered what the hell this man wanted to see if you were practically eating each other, but suddenly you remembered that his motivation was even more sexual than a couple of wet kisses. Maybe he was getting bored because he needed to see that you were about to… well, do it.
"Take off my shirt," you said immediately, still too close to his swollen lips and looking right into eyes that seemed to be pitch black.
"Take... what?"
"Take off my shirt" you repeated, with a tone that made the man shudder completely. With the hands that were still holding his shirt you pulled him to you and he held his breath “And kiss me better. Like you really want me"
But Spencer didn't need to pretend that he wanted you.
He made you completely dizzy when he began to kiss you so hungrily and you managed to keep enough composure when you felt one of his warm hands travel under your blouse, limiting yourself to letting out sighs that were drowned against his lips. But what finally caused you to let out an indiscreet and unwelcome moan was when he pulled you by the hip until you were on the edge of the tailgate and you could feel the growing bulge in his pants pressing against you. Spencer had almost managed to suppress his, but in the end, you having your own situation down there didn't help one bit.
His trembling fingers fussed with the buttons on your shirt until it ended up somewhere on the floor at incredible speed, leaving you half-naked before him and the collection of FBI agents standing around. You might have been embarrassed if your brain could connect two coherent thoughts, but you'd lost that from the moment Dr. Reid first dared to kiss you.
You carefully guided his hands to the beginning of the curve of your breasts and now you both sighed in unison, feeling goosebumps on every inch of your skin. You pushed yourself forward just for the satisfaction of hearing that guttural sound again and your prayers were immediately answered, for it was enough for him to feel the slightest friction and he would go crazy. It was inappropriate to need him like that, but you couldn't help it.
Holding your lower back, he leaned over you and at the same time pulled you towards him until your breasts collided with his chest. In that position, your neck was exposed and your partner’s hot lips didn't hesitate to go down there, while you sighed agitated just at the height of his ear. Spencer asked you, between each kiss, to look in the direction of the trailer to see if he was still there and as you could you answered yes, which was victory enough for both of you.
As he could, he maneuvered to lay you down carefully on the cold metal of the truck without stopping kissing your neck, and by inertia you wrapped both legs over his hip. When you were hidden by the panels of the pickup he finally looked at you.
"I hope it's enough to get his attention," he said, sounding as agitated as expected, and although the circumstances meant that you two would be taking a break you flatly refused, pulling him back to kiss him.
That kiss did take Spencer by surprise and it was perhaps the sincerest of the night. It wasn’t as passionate as the previous ones, but rather it was loaded with softness and you would even say that a hint of supplication. You were begging for him not to stop, for the night to get stuck in an infinite loop where the two of you could kiss for eternity. And suddenly you felt how he, who had been so tense the whole time, completely relaxed against you, as if he understood exactly what you wanted to say. His hands came to rest on the sides of your head to be able to kiss you more comfortably and you dared to take him by the waist with the same care that you were kissing him, feeling even above the cloth the softness of his skin.
And then he broke up with you. You feared you had done something wrong due to the suddenness of the movement and your frightened eyes searched his gaze for a sign of the reason, without finding anything. He just looked at you with something you couldn't describe, but that made you feel butterflies fluttering all over your stomach... and he stayed like that for a few seconds: just looking at you, as if he wanted to memorize all your features.
You opened your mouth to say something, but your words were drowned in a new kiss, totally different from the previous ones. Spencer was taking time with him, trapping your lower lip between his and sucking on it gently, pressing himself a little more against your body, sighing heavily into your mouth.
Your hand was already running up his side to make its way to his cheek just as screams filled the silence and you hugged him reflexively. The screams had come from Morgan, who had already moved across the park to take down the unsub and was now wrestling with him to get the knife out of his hand. Spencer hesitated for a moment if he should come over to help, but he preferred to hold you better against his body to protect you and wait for Emily to place the handcuffs on the man under her partner's knee.
From a distance you saw that he only brought with him, in addition to the knife, his camera, and a small backpack with some other murderous instruments that they managed to confiscate without any problem.
"All clear, we've got him," Hotch spoke over the radio. As you exhaled in relief too many emotions washed over you, combined with the adrenaline coursing through your body and the arousal still flowing into your crotch.
"Are you okay?" Reid's gentle voice called to you, as he pulled away to check with his eyes that everything was in order. His hair was messy and his lips were so swollen that it was almost painful to look at the image without launching yourself to kiss him again "My God, your shirt..." he said, completely embarrassed, as he bent down to pick up the garment. You looked him up and down and blushed when you noticed how tight his pants were, feeling your stomach turn a little. When he got up, he took the opportunity to look at your chest covered only by the black lace bra and a big gulp of saliva went down his throat.
You thanked him quietly and put your shirt back on, feeling the sneaky glances Spencer was giving you, just before Hotch walked up to you.
"How are you?"
"Very good, excellent" you stammered.
You could perfectly feel your swollen lips, the light sheen of sweat on your face, the heat flowing from all the places Reid's fingers had been, and the abundant moisture between your crossed legs.
After Hotch congratulated you on your performance, the two of you walked as best you could toward the rest of the agents, who were already placing Oliver on patrol. Another group was analyzing the trailer and they managed to pull out enough evidence about the murders that would be very useful in prosecuting the man.
"All good?" Emily asked in your direction, once things had settled down and the rest of the team had gathered in a circle by the van. You and Spencer just nodded at the question.
“I honestly think I'm going to need therapy after what I heard,” Dave murmured, so serious that you couldn't help but burst out laughing.
"Don't you even dare make fun of this"
“No, we won't. I'm just saying you guys seemed to be enjoying it there."
"That's supposed to be the plan, right?" Spencer said nervously, finally daring to look at you and looking away almost immediately as he smoothed his hair back.
Once your boss said you could retire you escaped in a patrol car as fast as you could, wanting to get home so you could take a cold shower and soothe what wasn’t satisfied by the man. You could hardly sleep that night, still haunted by the ghost of the kisses you received from your gorgeous coworker, and the next morning you hoped that double coffee would do the trick. But apparently you weren't the only one who thought so, because at the same time that you arrived Spencer Reid crossed your path.
"Hey," he said, in that high-pitched voice that came out when someone caught him off guard, "How are you?"
"Fine, and you?"
"Fine too"
You knew that the two of you wanted to talk about what happened, but it only took one of you to have the courage to speak first. At the same time your phones rang indicating a message and you mistakenly assumed that it was JJ contacting you to announce a case. What was your surprise when you opened the file and found a collection of photos from the night before. You knew from Spencer's face that he had received the same thing.
"Garcia did you… did she send you the same evidence?"
"That's right," he said nervously. You had to admit that if Oliver had one quality it was that of a photographer: you were sensual and perfectly captured the desire that had existed between you. Well, the one you had pretended to feel… right?
Spencer held his breath as he came to a picture of you topless in which his hand was practically on your breast, immediately remembering how that had felt. He just hoped his memories didn't affect him too much or it would be embarrassing enough to walk into the boardroom with a boner.
"They're good," you said to the air and he suppressed a laugh "But I can delete them if that makes you feel uncomfortable"
“No, no, I… I think I want to keep them too. After all, the bureau will have them in the files as evidence of the case, I prefer to have access too”
"I just hope she doesn't send them to anyone else, I wouldn't want to see my bra photos going around."
“I'll tell Garcia, don't worry,” Spencer murmured, rushing to type something on his phone.
While you waited for him to type you took another look, feeling your whole body heating up again at the memories. A part of you was grateful to have such material in your custody.
"I never thought of being the protagonist of an erotic photo session and here we are," you said ironically.
“Speaking of which…” Spencer started to say, “Not the erotic sessions by any means, don't think I'm planning on inviting you to one or that, because it would be super weird and inappropriate, but I was thinking if… huh…”
“Sell them online? I thought so too, but it depends on how much profit there is. Garcia can help us find the highest bidder and not get charged for tampering with evidence."
"What? No!" he said, completely shocked, and you laughed because you got the reaction you expected with your joke "Why would we do that?"
“Just kidding, Reid. Those photos are something I prefer to keep to myself" you clarified and your smile made him feel shy "Seriously, sorry for interrupting you. What did you want to tell me?"
"What…? huh, yes, right. It's just that this morning I was thinking about what you said yesterday, about how under normal circumstances you would have liked to have a bad date with me, right? and it just kept spinning in my head, so I was asking if you wanted to go for a drink sometime. Not like a date, of course, I'm not saying it is if you don't want to. I can just be like… well, go get a drink. As friends"
Yesterday Spencer had practically eaten your mouth and now he was nervous about asking you out. So adorable.
“You're not doing this just as compensation, are you? because you know that it is not necessary…”
“I do it because I want to. And I want to believe that… that I didn't misunderstand what happened yesterday."
You no longer even cared that it was unethical to date team members, or that if things went wrong, you would probably go into the worst of depressions. What mattered to you was that Spencer was interested in you, even if he had implied it, and that he was asking you out alone with him. Just the two of you, with fun and alcohol involved, without gossipy colleagues or mortal danger.
"Then I'd love to, Reid."
“Wow, excellent then” he smiled, feeling lucky that you agreed “I know a great bar near here, the atmosphere is generally calm, I like it because they don't play loud music. What day is right for you?"
“I'm available any day you want” you responded genuinely, grinning from ear to ear just being around him. That was the effect Reid had on you.
It was stupid to try to deny that you were still attracted to him, especially since now you had a taste of what he could do with you. You wanted to kiss him again, of course, but you were also anxious to earn that completely adoring look you'd received the night before.
“Today?”
"Yeah, why wait?" you responded, more excited than you wanted.
“Hey, I didn't ask you, but I wanted to know if I didn't go overboard with you last night. I mean… did something bother you?”
It was a smart move, you could see it clearly. It was obvious that Spencer cared about you, but you also picked up on his intentions to find out if you were interested in him too. Well, that's how it was from your perspective, because that probably would have been your motivation being in his place.
Even if it wasn't the case, you weren't going to miss the opportunity to take a little advantage of the situation.
"The kisses on the neck were something he definitely didn't expect, but they weren't unpleasant at all," you assured him, feeling your cheeks heat up again. "Did it feel good to you?"
"It did"
"So everything's perfect," you murmured, shrugging off the matter. But you both knew you couldn't see each other in the office and acted as if nothing had happened.
Something had happened. Those kisses had only fueled the tension that had always existed between you but that you wanted to ignore.
"Do you want to go after work, then?"
“Sounds good to me”
Spencer gave you one last smile and then went to prepare his usual cup of sugar with a dash of coffee. All day you were thinking about him and more than once he caught you looking at him, but you didn't even care.
So, at nightfall, with a few drinks on you and more courage in your body, you finally confessed that kissing was something you had wanted to do for a long time. You almost didn't believe it at first, coming from him, but when you finally accepted it, it wasn't hard at all to rush at him and kiss him feverishly. And this time there did not impede for you to give free rein to your desires, which led you to the soft mattress in your friend's house and kept you awake until a few hours before dawn.
#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfic#dr spencer reid#matthew gray gubler#aaron hotchner#derek morgan#jason gideon#JJ#penelope garcía#david rossi#emily prentiss#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid smut
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Better Watch Out
Danny had just started to feel like he was settling in with the Waynes. It had been... not ideal circumstances that brought him to the family in the first place, so getting used to not having to deal with all that mess was the first hurdle. The second being getting used to dealing with an entirely new- if more pleasant, mess. The Waynes, and Gotham by extension, were- to put it lightly- fucking crazy. He wasn't in Amity anymore and however much he'd thought it was the weirdest place on the planet before- he was absolutely rethinking that now. Where he had been one hero against a handful of villains, Gotham had a whole brigade of vigilantes against an army of villains. And they were... Bat-themed. For the most part. He'd yet to meet any of them, so he hadn't gotten the chance to ask what all that was about.
None of that was the point though. The point was that Danny had only recently stopped feeling like a fish out of water around his new foster family, and now the Holidays were coming. The Holidays that always served to put him in a sour mood. The Holidays that made him more prone to lash out and snap at those that didn't deserve it. The Holidays that, despite being Jewish by heritage, Bruce seemed oddly enthusiastic about celebrating.
(It reminded him, painfully, of Sam. He'd yet to be able to see here since everything went down and he missed her and Tucker something fierce. Which was maybe also putting him in a bad mood.)
So you really couldn't blame him for feeling a little tense about the whole situation. Not only were the Christmas decorations that smothered the Manor making him grouchy, but his grouchiness was also making a guilty pit form in his stomach. He was a moody teenager and adding trauma on top of that didn't help how caustic he could be- and adding fear on top of that made it all the worse. What if he saw Dick in his Santa hat, grinning and innocent, and he snapped? What if he saw Damian, stoic but loving, give Titus a shiny red bow-tie collar for the season and he made a caustic comment that went too far? What if he saw Bruce so much as smile at him while standing near the giant tree in the foyer and he saw green?
What if he ruined Christmas? Again? For people that didn't deserve it? Again? What if he hurt the people he cared about that had only ever shown him care and consideration? Again?
So Danny was just a bit tense. A bit on edge. And he was trying. Oh Ancients was he trying. To not be such a little bitch about all the Christmas stuff. But he had a limit. Bruce, being the rich socialite that seemed far too enthusiastic about family-centered holidays, did not have a limit. Every inch of the manor was covered in tinsel and holly and blinking lights and fake snow. Every spare moment was filled with different siblings being coerced into doing cheesy holiday activities, with Danny being the only one to attend every single one of them. (Cutting down a Christmas tree with Jason. Buying presents at the mall with Tim. Decorating while hanging from the chandelier with Dick. Caroling very badly with Stephanie. Making snow angels with Cass. Watching Christmas movies with Duke.) And he attended them all with a barely restrained snarl and a badly bitten tongue. The one time, one time, he'd told Bruce no- the guilt had eaten him alive (and dead) at seeing the man melt into the most pathetic kicked-puppy look he'd ever seen.
No grown man should ever be able to do that with his face. Danny never wanted to see that again.
In return, though, he had to face the Horrors.
The latest Horror being the worst he'd ever faced to date. A Horror that he thought he'd never have to face. He thought he'd slipped past this particular one by aging out. He was too old for this. He shouldn't be there. Damian, scowling and eyes filled with murderous intent, shouldn't be there. Dick and Bruce seemed to both be having the time of their lives. It was far too disturbing- and the continuous blasting of Christmas music and the overheated crush of a restless crowd only made it worse.
They were in line to see Santa at the mall.
It made his skin crawl. He was fifteen! Damian, the poor bastard, was also fifteen!
He could practically feel Ghostwriter laughing his ass off at his predicament. This was worse than getting stuck in a rhyming Christmas cautionary tale. He would 100% rather be stuck in one of Ghostwriter's cheesy poems than be stuck in the stupidly long line to see the fake mall Santa that probably didn't want to be there just as much as Danny.
But Bruce looked so fucking happy. Genuinely happy.
It was something he'd noticed early on about his foster dad. He smiled a lot and smiled big, but he rarely ever meant it. Now, Danny wasn't usually one to notice things like that. He got pretty wrapped up in his own problems and just- didn't have the skill to notice these things. Usually. But, well, being ghostly gave him a bit of an advantage. He could get a pretty good read on a person's emotions, regardless of what expression they wore. If he felt close enough to them. Frostbite had compared it to, like, family pack bonding. And he really, really didn't want to think about that further (why had it never worked for his parents? why did he feel so close to Bruce so quickly? why?) But, more importantly, he could tell that while Bruce smiled a lot, he rarely meant it.
But whenever Danny or his foster sibling begrudgingly participated in "family holiday activities" he smiled and he meant it. Bruce, fundamentally, was a sad man. Always grieving something. But here and now? In line to see his teenage children visit fucking Santa in the mall? He was smiling from ear to ear and his emotions, for once, matched. Yeah, there was a hint of mischief there, but it was overwhelmed by the giddy joy and excitement.
A suspicious amount of excitement... Like he was expecting something.
And then Bruce was leaning down between him and Damian and with a bright grin, he muttered, "I have a surprise for the both of you."
And even Dick, who had not stopped taking a stupid amount of pictures the entire time, paused to look at Bruce curiously.
"As I've told you both before," he said, looking over at Dick and back to Damian, "I know the real Santa. Met him a few times, saved Christmas with him a few others, and he owed me a favor for the last misadventure we had. So, I asked him to be here, for this one afternoon, for you guys."
Danny barely caught a glimpse of Dick rolling his eyes in the background. Oh, okay, so this was bullshit that has long been established. Nothing new on his account. That was something at least.
"Father," Damian interrupted with scorn and a promise of violence in his voice, "you are aware that this- Santa Claus creature- is fictitious, are you not?"
"Damian, chum," Bruce responded carefully, sincerely saddened, "why would you say that about an old family friend?"
And, poor Damian, looked two parts baffled and three parts murderous. Nonplussed and unable to even fathom a response to his father. He just stared the man down.
Dick huffed in exasperation behind them. "C'mon, B. Will you let that go already?"
Bruce furrowed his brows, eyes already taking on that faint sheen of kicked-puppiness, and looked back up at his eldest. "You don't believe me, Dickie? After all these years?"
Dick responded with a flat stare. Danny kind of wished he had popcorn for this moment. It was like witnessing a mild car crash. Nobody got hurt and it was still wicked to see parts flying everywhere. There was even a chance of things catching fire. Man was he glad he could just watch.
"Danny?" Bruce pleaded, turning to him with those sad, sad eyes. "Do you believe me, chum?"
And fuck how was he supposed to respond to that?
"I have it on good authority," he said, thinking of yearly fight, after fight, after fight, "that his existence is very hotly debated in the scientific community."
He could feel the questioning stares from Damian and Dick but he refused to look away from the innocently tilted head of his unfortunate foster father.
"Is that a yes?" and he sounded so sincerely hopeful. He couldn't crush the man's spirit. He couldn't.
But he also refused to lie and say he believed in Santa. At fifteen.
He clenched his jaw and gritted his teeth, but eventually replied. "It's a hotly debated topic."
And Bruce just smiled that empty smile and patted his shoulder. "Thanks, chum."
He, again, ignored Damian and Dick's stares. If he looked at them, he'd break. If he so much as made partial eye-contact, he was gonna fucking lose it.
"Oh look! We're almost at the front!"
Danny was living his worst life. Officially. This was the bad time-line. Dan's future didn't even come close. He was going to go mega evil any second now and kill everyone in the vicinity and then himself. This wasn't happening and it wasn't real and Santa Claus can't hurt him because he isn't real.
But Bruce, the saddest man in history, utterly and sincerely believed that he was.
So Danny was going to sit on some random old dude's lap and pretend to care about what he wanted for Christmas and whether or not he'd been a good boy this year and he was going to force a smile the entire time and his soul might shrivel up and die all the way inside, but at least Bruce would be happy.
What the fuck kind of afterlife was he living.
And then it was their turn and Danny was forced to go up first because the alternative was Damian committing homicide in the middle of the mall while Dick and Bruce cheerily took pictures.
Okay. Just sit down. Spit out answers to any inane questions. Pose for picture. And leave. Simple and easy and completely unbearable. But- for Bruce- he would bear it.
But, damn it all, a chill went down his spine as he approached.
No. Absolutely not.
There was no way. But he examined the man sitting in the chair and the more he saw the more the sinking pit in his stomach grew. Full thick beard of snow white hair. Brown eyes filled with smug mischief and magnanimity. Thick red velvet jacket made for trapping in heat in extreme cold weather, lined with white fur that looked suspiciously close to trim on cloaks he'd seen in the Far Frozen. A not-quite-ghostly-not-quite-magic-but-something-in-between aura he often got around Gods and Ancients.
Fuck, but Bruce actually knew the real bonafide Santa Fucking Claus.
What, and he means this with a great amount of emotion, the fuck.
He sat down in a stupor and the man just placidly smiled at him, a twinkle in his eye letting him know that he knew Danny was currently experiencing new stages of grief not yet known to man and was just gonna let him ride it out. How nice of him. Because of course he was being nice. He was Santa.
Fuck.
He looked up at the man. Ghost. God. Whatever. And for a good moment that's all either of them did. Just. Stared.
Sorry, Santa, Danny's brain has suddenly gone on vacation. 404 not found. Please leave a message after the tone. Error. Sorry, there's nothing there. Please try again.
After a few agonizing moments he asked, "how? Do you know Bruce?"
And Santa laughed at him, the sound working its way into his bones and filling him with a warmth he hadn't felt in a long time. It tasted just a bit like egg nog. Gross.
"Well," the man started, voice deep and rich like a good cup of hot chocolate, (whatthefuckwhathtefuck). "Why wouldn't I know a man like Bruce? Honorable, righteous, and very skilled. One of the best the Justice League has, if I'm being honest."
And then Danny's brain stopped completely. Because there was no fucking way Santa (FUCK) was implying what he thought he was implying.
But it all made so much sense now. His ears were ringing suddenly and the world was greying out but he was Seeing the Light.
"-nny?" Santa (FUCK!!) was saying. "Are you alright? Want to tell me what you want for Christmas now?"
"Hm," he said airily, still not all the way there, "I'm good, thanks."
And then he slid off the man's lap and walked back to his foster family in a daze. And he looked at Bruce (BATMAN!! FUCK!!!) and he slid a slow hand down his face, attempting to take the skin off it in the process.
"You alright, Danny man?" Dick asked, only half paying attention while he gleefully snapped pictures of a sullen Damian barely restraining himself from committing violence while stubbornly standing next to Santa instead of sitting on his lap.
"That's the real Santa, Bruce is Batman, and I'm half-dead," he replied bluntly.
Dick fumbled his phone in response and Bruce merely raised his eyebrows.
"That's an odd start to a 'three guys walk into a bar' joke there, chum," he said amiably. And Danny wouldn't have noticed the tension in his voice if he weren't ghostly. But he was and unfortunately for them all, it was now everyone's problem.
"Not a joke," he said. "I'll explain the dead part later but Santa outed you on accident."
"Okay, no," Dick interrupted, "we are not leaving the dead part for later, Danny, what the fuck."
"Listen," he said flatly, slapping his hands on either side of Dick's face and smooshing it to convey his seriousness while he spoke. "Santa is real, he's a God, and he's sitting right there." He emphasized with a sweeping wave of his arm in the direction Damian was stomping back towards them from. "We're leaving the dead part for later."
"What is all this about? Dead part? What is going on?" Damian demanded in rapid succession, growing more aggressive and persistent with each question.
Danny, already on his last fucking nerve, was gonna lose it. For real.
"Apparently," Dick drawled, disbelief and an unfair amount of derision in his tone, "that's the real Santa, he told Danny B was Batman, and Danny's now saying he's dead."
"What-"
Damian did not get to finish his sentence because that was the exact moment Danny finally snapped. Every bit of pent up tension and hostility, every bit of restrained Holiday fueled fury he'd been bottling up. Unleashed all at once because Dick decided to be an asshole about not believing him.
Danny snatched one of the giant plastic candy canes that lined the aisle of the queue to see Mall (but actually Real) Santa and gave a good swing in Dick's direction. Dick who had unfairly good reflexes and was able to dodge by jumping over the swing and landing back neatly on his feat.
"Danny?!" he cried, incredulous.
But Danny was no longer listening. Only reveling in the wild swinging of the candy cane and attempting to land a hit on Dick for being an absolute dick and finally unleashing hell upon the world and specifically his asshole foster brother. And maybe he put a little bit more ghostly strength in his last swing than he meant to, because when he finally made contact- he heard a pained off as Dick went down hard.
"Danny, please," he wheezed from the soft bank of fake snow he'd fallen into, "it's Christmas."
He screeched and continued his assault. "It's December 10th!"
And then, promptly; Bruce wrangled the candy cane from Danny's grasp, Damian pulled Dick from the floor, and they were all calmly escorted from the mall and asked politely to never return.
Danny really, truly, hated Christmas. And it looked like that wasn't going to change any time soon.
#naps fics#nap shitposts in the afterlife#danny phantom#dp x dc#dpxdc#dp x dc fanfic#sorry we need to make use of bruce knowing actual fucking santa more often#and pair it lovingly with dannys hatred for christmas#its SO funny#this was supposed to be a funny little shitpost and then evolved sorry#trying to get back in the habit of writing before working on OEG again#anyway hiiii
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Yandere! Werewolf Headcanons
I've been stalked by the guilty feeling that my Romanian Werewolf boy got a lot of backstory but not much romance or interaction. So there you have it: some headcanons featuring the ancient Beast, a post-kidnapping sequel.
Content: female reader, obsessive behavior, monster romance, mild NSFW at the end, ridiculously older yandere
You followed the gargantuan stranger back into the city, leaving the bloodbath behind as if it was just a distant dream. Admittedly, you’d expected to be dragged into some mountainous cave or an abandoned mansion, not the cozy - albeit a little dusty - apartment on a main, historical street. On second thought, he did function as a human outside of his monstrous escapades, so it made sense. “Is this your place?”, you sheepishly asked while he wiped the thick layers of blood off him. “One of them, yes”, he answered curtly. “It’s central”, you remarked, trying to make conversation. “Well, I didn’t know about it back then. It’s been a few decades.”
Your ears perked up at the words. Gazing at his features, he didn’t seem necessarily aged to you. The deep creases contouring his face felt more like a sign that he’s lived sorrows beyond most people’s comprehension. “How old are you?” You finally asked as curiosity replaced your initial fear. He abruptly stopped his movements and leaned back, brows furrowed in deep contemplation. “I’m not so sure anymore. I was born in the 80s”, he concluded. “That’s not too far back, is it?” You inquired, this time more relaxed. “80 BC, I meant. You do the math.”
He freshened himself up as you counted the millennia on your fingers, frowning in confusion. He chuckled at your intense focus, then quickly looked up into the mirror. When was the last time he smiled like this? The reflection was a foreign sight to him. “We’ll get you everything you need tomorrow”, he continued, still in a daze. What a strange idea, having someone to speak to after an eternity. And suddenly, it occurred to him just how rusted his communication had gotten: “I’m so sorry, I haven’t asked for your name once”, he said, embarrassed. “It’s (Y/N). And you are...?" Might as well introduce yourself to your benevolent captor.
The dreaded question. How did they call him back in the day? He hasn't had anyone spell it out for him, nor did he feel the need at any point to say it himself. Why would he? He hadn't anticipated meeting you. With pursed lips, he searched his mind. Eventually, from the depths or memories, from days of yore, it made its way back: "Daos."
Given your first gory encounter (where he quite literally murdered everyone else), you were surprised to find out he's otherwise a calm and polite individual. Well, he's had centuries to mature, you suppose. You've also noticed he has that rather old-fashioned chivalry to him. He's very attentive despite his stoic demeanor, and often follows with acts of service.
"You're insulting me. I can carry this myself with ease", you'll argue. "I never doubted you can. Nonetheless, it is my wish to do it for you."
As the days pass, your reluctance seems to vanish as well. In fact, you've become particularly cheeky, encouraged by his warm, unperturbed behavior. Maybe you haven't gotten the worst deal out there, after all.
"You know, you talk like an old man", you've teased him once. He was visibly taken aback by your statement, and you could discern a faint blush on his face. "Do I? My apologies, I haven't spoken to anyone in a long time. I'm not familiar with modern speech. Have I embarrassed you somehow?"
He spends his free time reading, though he will frequently take you on walks. It's an interesting affair to say the least. You can feel the curious eyes of the passersby and hear their not-so-discreet whispered gossip. You can't truly blame them: Daos is enormous even as a human. He towers above everyone else with his imposing appearance. To match, his voice is deep and coarse as a result of not using it much until recently.
The ancient werewolf is a living history book. If asked, he will narrate to you important events or details you might be curious about regarding his culture. Once, when he'd been in a good mood, he even shared fragments of his life before turning into a creature. He'd been a high-ranked Dacian warrior, spending his days training or fighting. He still remembers the flag he carried with bitter fondness, yet another irony to his fate: a wolf-headed serpent. It was meant to showcase their way of life; barbarians with no fear of death. They'd greeted the Roman Empire with nothing but a sword and a shield, no shred of doubt.
He might've been betrayed by his people, but the pride remains. The pride of a soldier who's never known defeat. You learned quickly that his beastly form doesn't count as a significant change by any means, save for appearances. The man has brute strength even as a human. You'd once strayed from his view, and a stranger approached with a daring whistle, gawking you up and down. Before you could react, Daos clawed him by the throat. You heard the twist of the skin and the creak of the bones giving in to the immense pressure of his large hand.
"It's the second time I have exposed you to such unpleasant sights", he said, discarding the body as if it was any other garbage. "Forgive me, but I will not have you disrespected like this."
He is very much aware he's taken you away from the world out of his own selfish desire. The fact that you accepted it is more than he could ever ask for. That's what he keeps telling himself, even as his eyes wander to your lips whenever you speak. Or as his hand lingers a moment too long against the curve of your back. Or as he hungrily takes in your scent whenever you're nearby.
He might be unhealthily possessive of you, but Daos will never do anything against your will. No matter how obvious his urges are. In fact, no amount of flirting or teasing will shake his resolve. You will have to be very direct with your approval.
Once the reality settles in, he'll become extremely affectionate, bordering on obsessive. To think he could have you in every way possible. Oh, he's waited thousands of years for you. All the suffering, the loneliness, the anger, they're stripped of any meaning now that he has you.
The city strolls at an awkward distance have since become a habitual excuse to hold your hand and show you off to the mortals. The quiet evenings of passing time with a book now include your merely noticeable weight cuddled into his lap. You didn't expect him to be this adoring. Being touch-starved for millennia counts as one reason, naturally, but there's more to it, so much more. And it all leads back to you.
He is a little taken aback when you ask him to do the deed in his werewolf form. "Don't be foolish. I can't overcome my instincts as well when I'm a creature. I could harm you", he'll lecture you. "Besides, you can barely take it as it currently is", he'll add, smirking at your baffled expression. It seems he's picked up on your cheekiness.
After a lot of pleading and waiting for the right moment - when he's ravaging you in a daze - he finally agrees. True to his word, his tune instantly changes. The tender hold turns into a desperate grasp sinking into your skin, and the thrusts become irregular, almost frantic. His drool cools your burning cheeks as you hold onto the coarse fur, feverish and overwhelmed.
His golden eyes rest on the small human squirming underneath him, and suddenly, he can't help but notice: you have the perfect birthing hips.
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x darling#yandere x you#yandere monster#yandere monster x reader#yandere werewolf#werewolf x reader#monster x reader#monster x human#monster romance#yandere headcanons#male yandere x reader#yandere imagines#yandere scenarios#yandere oc#yandere oc x reader#yandere smut#monster smut#monster boyfriend
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Hi Kacie!! Now that your requests are open... Could I request a smutty fic where Spencer finds out reader has a not-so-common sensitive spot (like her legs, hair, arms, whatever body part you want). Maybe he finds out kinda in a public setting after she gets all flustered and wants to keep pushing to test his theory?? You can take as much inspo from this as you want<3
(If this emoji's not taken)-💃 anon
A/N: Hello! Sorry for going MIA for a while there. It was the beginning of a new school year here in SK, so I've been really busy! I've been chipping away at this one little by little, and it's finally done! I hope you enjoy it ♡
Warnings; Smut, 18+ Minors DNI, case details, misogyny from a bartender in the opening scene, Semi-public sexual experimentation, edging, PinV sex, use of pet names (good girl), slight degradation, cum play, etc.
Masterlist
The back of the bar was dimly lit as you walked through it, keeping pace with your teammate as you kept one eye on the shady inhabitants of the bar.
You'd been sent - with Spencer of all people - to ask the local dive bar staff about suspicious regulars. A fact that didn't exactly take into account his general lack of intimidating looks and your status as the newest member of the team.
A trial by fire if you'd ever seen one.
You tried your best not to stick out like a sore thumb, but the people in these parts could spot a Fed from a mile away. And though Spencer was remarkably pipe-cleaner-like, they'd certainly recognised enough FBI in him to clam up upon your entrance.
“We got some visitors, I see. What can I be getting you, little lady?” The barman greeted you as you reached the first stool at the counter, a patronizing smile on his moustache clad lips.
“If it's okay, we'd like to ask you some questions. I'm Agent Y/N with the FBI. This is my partner, Doctor Spencer Reid.”
“You're a Fed? Now, why would you bother doing all that hard work when you could be warming my bed, girl. It's definitely more honest and satisfying work.”
The way the man leered at you over the counter has you freezing momentarily. Your instincts were saying fight, but you held your tongue just long enough to not ruin any rapport your team could build with locals.
“I'm flattered, but already spoken for I'm afraid. Have you seen any suspicious men in here in the last six months, one that would pass through only semi-regularly, maybe with a few female companions, though never the same.”
Professionalism at the cost of your peace of mind was going to be a hard learn for you as you grit your teeth and swallowed the bile in your throat.
He just continued to leer at you as he dried up beer glasses.
“You're looking for a man who likes cheap whores? Maybe you are in the market for a career change after all.”
That was about all you could take, and luckily, Spencer Reid was well aware.
Quickly grabbing you by the wrist, he pulled you behind him defensively and leaned over the bar, his voice low and somewhat chilling.
“Disrespect my partner like that again, and I'll have you charged with aiding and abetting a murderer who has kidnapped and ended the lives of three local girls. Local girls whose fathers you're more than likely acquainted with, who absolutely have multiple acres of property and just enough bullets to put you in the ground.”
The blood rushed to your ears at his voice, but the light grip of your wrist held you in place indefinitely.
All the fight left your body, as you found yourself coming dangerously close to melting into Spencer in relief.
He forced the man to answer some more basic questions, but it wasn't as if you could hear them. He stroked a quick thumb back and forth across your wrist as all the thoughts fled your head, and the words fell asleep on your tongue, resting there until he released you from his grip.
You'd known that the area was slightly sensitive for a while, having accidentally brushed up against things and felt serious chills shoot up your spine. What you hadn't known was that it was that kind of sensitivity.
Though, in all honesty, you hadn't exactly known that you could feel that kind of excitement for Spencer either. You just hoped he wouldn't notice. That much.
Having finished his line of questioning and reiterating his threat, he moved his hand from your wrist to the small of your back and adeptly guided you from the restaurant and out of the line of vision of every pair of eyes in the place.
“Are you okay?” He asked when he finally got you to the car, voice still quiet and low, and slightly too close to let you fully relax.
“Peachy. He talked to you at least.” You turned away from him and began opening the passenger side door.
“Nothing new or useful, though. Your bpm is high,” he joined you in the car, putting on his seat belt while you completely let go of yours, letting it zip back into itself.
“My… my what?”
“Your bpm is high. Your heart was beating so fast,” he said, reaching over you to help you reclip it. “Were you nervous, Y/n? Or just sensitive?”
“Your mouth is entirely too close to mine to be asking that question,” you breathed out, cursing your eyes from stealing a glance at his lips.
Only five minutes into this sudden attraction to Spencer Reid, and you were already mortified and extremely horny. In equal measures.
“What would be the appropriate distance to ask that, then?”
“I hear Australia is lovely this time of year.”
He chuckled softly at you as he finished adjusting your seat and then moved far enough away to let the ground swallow you in peace.
Never one to leave well enough alone, it seemed that Spencer took it upon himself to experiment with you for weeks on end after that.
He'd constantly ask you to pass him papers, pens, anything that'd allow him to run a finger across the inside of your wrist. On more than one occasion you'd caught him staring into your eyes as he did it, and it took a nearly embarrassing amount of time to realise he was checking how dilated your pupils were before and after.
When he'd gathered enough data for that line of questioning, he moved on to bigger things.
You knew you were in danger of seriously falling head over ads when he offered to walk you to your motel door in a seedier case location.
You, an FBI agent with a real-life gun and badge and job at Quantico, and you were jumping at the chance to have a man walk you to your room. You'd have been embarrassed if you weren't burning with anticipation.
You hoped that like every other man in history, he was gently trying to insinuate himself into your bedroom, and by extension, your bed and more intimate places.
So you were more than slightly disappointed when he started wishing you a good night. All of the aforementioned disappointment fled your body, though, when he picked up your hand and dropped a kiss to the inside of your left wrist, repeating the action on the right before wordlessly retreating.
You stared at his back as he walked purposefully down the corridor and into his own room, leaving you to pick up your jaw and retreat to your room to lick your wounds.
You wished it was him picking you up instead and found your brain imagining just that as your fingers dropped between your thighs that night.
It became a case tradition for him to tease you like this, kissing your wrist after innocently walking you back to your hotel room. The others thought it chivalrous, almost cute and childlike, a form of courting that graced the good old days. They didn't know he grabbed you by the waist and held you against his hard-on every time you rode an elevator together. They didn't know his tongue darted out a few times to lick your wrist on occasion. They didn't know how you once mentally begged him to bite you there and how you shuddered as he ran his teeth along the vein there.
Spencer was coming to the crux of his research regarding how far he could push you before you cracked. Only now, it was how far he could get without pushing you against a wall and jumping your bones.
You knew you were in danger when he offered to escort you home after a case.
“To walk you to your door, you know? Like always,” he smiled at you, the picture of innocence as you became damp between your thighs.
“Sure. Yeah, okay, I'll get my keys, let's go.”
You weren't sure how no one else noticed that Spencer didn't have a car to drive himself home after taking you to yours. You were unsure if they'd connect the dots between him escorting you home and his own apartment being 45 minutes in the opposite direction.
Luckily for you, you could keep your hands at 2 and 10 the entire journey, away from his grasp. If he'd have touched you right then, you're sure you'd have driven both of you right off the road into a ditch.
Or a pedestrian.
The drive was calm, but pulling up forced your heart to your throat and kept it suspended there, almost like it was frozen at gunpoint, a deer in the headlights.
“We're here.”
“Great. Let me walk you in.”
In. You swallowed hard, wishing very much for him to be inside of your apartment.
“Okay.”
Stepping into the elevator a few minutes later, he waited mere seconds after the doors began closing to pull you into his personal space. He was hard, he was so hard once again and his cock was now straining against your ass.
“Spencer, we need to talk about t-that,” he stroked your wrist as his hand splayed across your stomach, holding you firmly against him.
“About what, Y/N?”
He pulled your arm up almost as if inspecting the wrist for imperfections, and your head melted back into his chest. Why was this elevator so goddamn slow?
You sprung out quickly when the doors pinged open finally and moved straight towards your door without a glance back, but you felt him close behind you.
“Y/N, wait for me, wait, I'm sorry,” he called out quietly as you forced your keys into the lock as fast as possible.
“Y/N, I'm sorry if I stepped over the line, I didn't mean too, please look at me-”
You got the door open and turned back around to grab a firm hold of his tie and yank him into the apartment behind you.
“Months. Spencer, you have been edging me for months, and I am sick of it.” You half growled at him, slamming the door behind him and then pushing him up against it.
“I can feel how hard you are right now. Obviously you want to fuck me, so why aren't you?”
His face went from shocked to intrigued, then shot straight for mischievous as he cracked a smile, and you felt his hands wrap around your wrists slowly.
Before you could react, he had your positions swapped, your arms above your head pinned at the wrists and his breath hitting your neck as he answered.
“I wanted to see how long it would take you to break.”
Your lips leapt to his, hitting him angrily as you searched for more pleasure in his touch, one leg pushing up to wrap around his waist as his hips settled between yours.
He met you at your level, giving just as good as he got.
“Call it scientific curiosity,” he murmured, lips trailing down your neck, but hips pinning you in closer to the wall, keeping you trapped there. He made his way along your shoulders and then pressed light teasing kisses up your arms while rutting his hips into you, dry humping you against the wall as your eyes glazed over in lust.
“You react when I touch you, you heat up. But it gets worse if I touch you here, right Y/N?” His lips again found your wrist, but this time his teeth grazed across the veins he found there.
“You get so horny now when I look at you. I can grab your wrist and make you beg for my cock, isn't that right?” His mouth was back by your ear as your legs went limp under you. He still had you caged against your own door, and you had no idea what to say to that.
Part of you wanted to protest purely because of the rough tone of voice he was using. The other wanted to flood to the floor and tell him yes, beg him to just fuck you and be done with this pure torture.
“I asked you a question, Y/N. Isn't that right?”
“Yes, yes, Spencer fuck, I don't care anymore, yes. You can touch me and I'll react to you, please help me.”
“Good girl.”
He pulled away instantly, but his hands wrapped firmly still around your wrists. Slowly, he pulled you towards him as he slowly walked backwards further into your apartment. You thought for a second about just throwing yourself back into his arms, to close the space he'd created again between the two of you.
You tried it, lifted your head slightly, begging his lips to return there, but he held firm. Each step was an agony of need, and you fought to hold your tongue, begging yourself not to beg him so pathetically.
“Such a good girl, I'm holding you by the wrist, and you won't even protest about how slow I'm being.”
Your mouth fell open as you registered his words.
“You're being an ass.”
“What was that? You want me to touch your ass?”
“Spencer!”
“Don't worry, we'll get to that.”
His back finally made contact with your bedroom door, and you stumbled forward into his chest as he kept his grip even still.
“You're going to listen, right? You're going to listen to me and do what I ask you to do, aren't you?”
You wavered again. He'd been teasing you, but now he was serious, his tone light and his voice soft, but you could feel the strength in his grip. You could feel his arousal at your hip.
“Yes, Spencer.”
“Good. Get on your knees on the bed. No clothes.”
He released your hands and opened the door for you as you tried your best to walk forward calmly.
By the time you reached the bed, you'd removed most of your clothes, but you hesitated at the underwear as he watched from behind you. A quick glance over your shoulder saw him palming his cock through his pants, still leaning against the door he'd opened for you.
He was getting off watching you, and you were frozen in arousal.
“No clothes, Y/N.”
“I know.”
“Underwear is clothing.”
“I know that, too, Spencer.”
“Then take it off.”
You shot a quick glare over your shoulder as you unclaimed your bra behind your back and threw it to the floor.
“On my knees, right?” You said, climbing on the bed still clad in your panties.
“I also said no clothes.”
“If you're so invested in my state of dress, how about you come and help me rectify it.”
His lips twitched in small annoyance, but he followed the trail of clothes you'd left, ridding himself of his tie, shirt, jacket, and pants along the way.
He climbed on the bed slowly behind you, not opposite as you'd presumed he would. His hands reached out to touch your back before slowly sliding all the way up to your neck and pushing your upper body down into the sheets.
You let out a little squeak in shock, but let his hands guide you, feeling especially pliant when he grabbed your hands and crossed them behind your back.
“Maybe the panties can stay. I'll just decorate them afterwards,” he said, and with that, he pulled your hips up with his free hand guiding you into the position he wanted you in, and pushed two fingers into you.
“Fuck, Spencer-” your brain short circuited as he pumped the digits slowly in and out of you, setting an agonizing pace but holding you so tight that.you couldn't even press your cunt back into his fingers.
“What? What is it, Y/N? Tell me how you feel?”
“Feel good, so good Spencer, p-please more.”
He shifted slowly behind you, pulling his fingers out almost completely before pushing them back in, this time with another finger added. He didn't quicken his pace as you assumed he would, but he took his time stretching you out further as you moaned and whined underneath him.
“More. You wanted more,” he reminded you, and his voice was like a sharp hit straight to your cunt, rough and hot and filling you completely.
You barely registered the orgasm that flowed over you, your brain replaying his words on a loop as he continued pleasuring you.
“That's it. That's a good girl. Get my fingers nice and wet.”
When you finally grounded yourself in the moment again, your cheeks flushed as you realized just how wet you'd gotten. You felt your arousal still dripping down your leg and turned your face further into the sheets to hide your embarrassment.
He pulled his fingers out of you, though, and with his now free hand he crouched over you and hooked his fingers under your jaw lifting your head and body up, forcing your crotch back into his as your back arched.
“Don't hide from this. Look how wet you are for me, Y/N. Taste it.” He tapped his fingers against your mouth and you were ashamed at how fast your lips dropped open, tongue falling out to let him wipe his cum stained fingers against your pretty little lips.
You tasted yourself on his fingers, wrapping your tongue around them and sucking as he dragged his dick across your back, trying to relieve himself in any way he could.
“Good girl. It's time for one more, Y/N.”
You released his fingers with a wet pop as he pushed you back into the sheets. Lining himself up, he entered you easily, your cum providing ample lubricant.
You whined at his first few pumps, certain he was going to continue his torturous pace and leave you begging for more hours into the night.
Instead, he let himself work you up to it, each thrust gaining in speed and strength until you could hear the slap of your skin against his more vividly than your own heartbeat.
His cock was thick, filling you perfectly as you lost yourself in the sensations.
“One day, I'll handcuff you to this bed,” he said, leaning down and whispering in your ear as each part of your body vibrated with lust.
“I'll tie you down to this bed, and I'll treat you like a princess. I'll eat your cunt for hours until you cum every time my breath hits your cunt, and I'll cover your pretty tits in my seed. I'll let you use my cock as your personal sex toy, and I'll fulfill every single need you have.”
His hand released your wrists as both of his hands came to wrap around your waist, pushing you deeper into the plush covers and changing the angle of his dick.
You screamed at the pleasure, forgetting the paper thin walls your apartment boasted.
“Fuck, Spencer.”
“And you're going to love every single second because your brain switches off every time I touch your delicate little wrists.”
With that, another wave of pleasure spread through your body, sending prolonged shivers throughout your body.
You felt him withdraw and heard the sticky mess of him stroking himself behind you until he made good on his promise and sprayed his generous load across your ass and panties before collapsing on the bed next to you.
The two of you laid there for what felt like hours, sharing nothing but your labored breaths and the space of the bed before he finally rose.
You tried not to sleep, but your entire body felt stiff from the awkward, if enjoyable, position he'd held you in.
Your eyes drifted shut, and you just listened to his movements. A creaking floorboard here, a stumble against some furniture there, culminating in some running water and a return to your space.
“Y/N,” he whispered, cautious to rise you from what he assumed was much needed sleep.
“Mmmm,” was all you could reply.
“I realize now that I made a pretty big mess, so we need to get you in the bath.”
“Mmm,” you protested, brows furrowing as you tried to gather your sheets closer around you, cradling yourself in the warmth.
But doing so only made you more aware of the sticky wet mess around your torso and legs, and you let out a small, frustrated sigh.
“You're stubborn, you know that, right?” He said, admiration coating his tongue as he lifted you slowly and helped you place your feet on the floor and walk towards your bathroom.
“Spencer, shouldn't have a bath, too sleepy.”
“I know, I'm going to stay.”
“In the bath?”
“In the bath.”
“Good.”
And it was. You let him lift your legs one by one into the scorching water and melted back into him, your head resting on his shoulder as if it were the most comfortable pillow you'd ever used, and you slept.
#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfic#mgg#spencer reid smut#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fandom#spencer reid criminal minds#dr spencer reid#spencer reid x reader smut#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n
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neighbor!Sukuna x singlemom!reader. In the aftermath of your apartment flooding, Sukuna makes you a deal that is too good to pass up. You don't fully know what you're agreeing to, but if you did would it have really changed anything? Reader POV
cw: Sukuna may seem like just a nice guy stepping up but really he's a red flag you're just too tired to see. It's hinted reader has not been treated well in the past but no specifics.
You hadn't known what to do when you woke up to the sound of rushing water. You had acted on instinct and grabbed your daughter from the room next to yours and stood in the kitchen, calling your landlord from the number on your lease to no avail. Your daughter was starting to get fussy and after the fourth attempt with no answer, you felt lost.
Your ex hadn't exactly been the reliable type and he probably would have just contributed by cursing and complaining about shitty landlords and even shittier affordable housing but that wouldn't have helped then and thinking about it wasn't helping you now. Single, alone with your daughter who was growing more disgruntled by the minute.
You hated to even consider but, there was someone who you kept coming back to that you thought could help.
Sukuna.
The tattooed man across the hallway hadn't struck you as the friendly type, but he had proved you wrong in the few months since you moved in. He looked like the type of guy you would cross the street to avoid, but he always had time to stop and talk to you when he saw you. He also always made it a point to say hello to your daughter and listen to her rambles, even when they didn't make sense to you.
Your other neighbors had warned you about him. Stories that included threats and assaults you just couldn't connect to the man who had taken you and your daughter to the aquarium when your piece of shit ex bailed on you both, again.
You had googled him afterwards and what you saw was pages and pages that included things like attempted, suspected and scarier words like murder, hospitalized and other things that just didn't fit with the man you were still getting to know.
The water was still falling and once your daughter started waking up, you called it and went over to the maybe scary man across the hall, who never scared you.
Within ten minutes, you found yourself in Sukuna's guest room while he stayed behind at your apartment to figure everything out. When was the last time someone told you, "I got it." You were always the responsible one. You were the mom friend, the girlfriend people liked to introduce to their parents. You had basically parented yourself!
But now, there was someone who told you that, "I got it."
So who could blame you for going along with what came next. When the next morning came and Sukuna told you that your super had come too late and the apartment was damage and you couldn't stop yourself from putting your head in your hands as your daughter happily munched on the pancakes he had made you both.
"What am I going to do," you groaned and you couldn't help but lean in when Sukuna placed his hand on your cheek.
"He said he would put you up in a hotel until it can be fixed," he said gently and you sighed. You envisioned the next several months in some shitty motel with no kitchen, sharing a lumpy bed with your two year-old, disrupting the routines you had been trying so hard to build as a single mom. No more afternoon trips to the park that was less than a block away. No more feeding the ducks with your leftover veggies or sharing pick up duties with the other moms at the daycare by your work.
"This sucks, I don't want to have to build my life all over again." And you really didn't. This was so frustrating and over what, a little water damage?
"Well," Sukuna started and he tilted your head so you were looking at him. "I do have the guest room. You could move some of your stuff over here and camp out until it's fixed. Pocket the hotel money, use it for something for the kid."
"Oh, I couldn't impose on you like that-"
"I wouldn't offer if it was an imposition," he said, his eyes glinting and for just a second you could see a little of the danger your neighbors had told you about, but then it was gone and he was leaning over you to take another pancake from the serving tray and putting it on your daughter's empty plate.
"It's not just for you, I would-I would feel a lot better knowing the both of you were taken care of. I doubt the hotel that-" he cut off looking over at your daughter, "you know is putting you up in is going to be the safest place for the two of you."
You couldn't believe you were considering it but you were so tired. You felt like life had just become a series of less than ideal circumstances you were forced to deal with just because you didn't want to settle for the wrong guy or give your daughter less than she deserved.
"I would pay rent," you said and he looked ready to argue but you held up your hand. He smiled, amused and gestured go on. "Just until they can fix the apartment and if we get to be too much tell me. We can tough it out in a hotel. We've dealt with worse," you added and he frowned before nodding.
"Deal." He turned to look at your daughter and smiled. "You hear that bug, you and mommy are moving in." Your daughter giggled and clapped her syrup covered hands.
"Temporarily," you reminded him and he smiled at you.
"Right, let's go grab the stuff you'll need while you're here temporarily." He went grabbed a towel and wiped your daughters hands while she kept laughing and chanting "move in, move in!"
Is it your fault that you didn't know that your circumstances were anything but temporary?
#jujutsu kaisen sukuna#sukuna x reader#sukuna ryomen#ryomen sukuna#jjk x reader#jjk sukuna#sukuna x singlemomreader#sukuna x y/n
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you could do something where sukuna and yuji team up to protect their mom/wife when a person is bothering or harassing her, they love her so much that they won't let someone hurt her 🥹💗
Leave Mama Kuna alone 😔
Old Day, because no one was brave enough to confront Sukuna for murder.
Warnings? Murder, in red text a man attempted to force himself on reader, Gore, Blood
It didn't take much to upset Sukuna, he was always looking for a reason to snap at someone and end a life. Sadly his son Yuji was a cock block for murder, and it irked him that he basically had to shake and rile his son up to get angry and then he’d just flat line and “but why don’t we-“ They didn’t agree to often on why a man should die- but in this case they were all agreeing. “Get him daddy!” Yuji yelled, pointing his chubby finger at a man maybe in his early Twenties who had been talking to you while you were trying to pick out Snacks for Yuji. He had wandered off after passing a candy stand and usually you’d send a maid or help to get the necessities but today you wanted to take Yuji out to walk and play and hopefully learn some self preservation, Sukuna, well he was feared and he just wanted to come along to make sure no idiot would try to disrespect you. “Listen, I’m just trying to get some things for my son. Leave while you still can and maybe my husband will let you live.” You smiled nodding at the man who scoffed “Your husband? What is he? a Mercenary? What’s he gonna do to kill me? That’s probably a lie you probably don’t even have a so-” you sighed turning away when Sukuna lifted the man by the neck with one hand twisting him around to face him, “No, I’m your God,” his stare darkened “but I’m not so merciful.” There stood Yuji by his dads leg, “Yeah! You deserve no mercy! That’s my mom you were disrespecting!… Idiot!” You tried not to laugh at Yuji’s extra words and went back to paying the scared vendor for the snacks you had picked out. By the time you looked back the guy was laid out on the floor bloody and probably just barely clinging to life, head being pressed into the dirt being grinded on by Sukuna’s large foot. Yuji was swinging away on his ribs and stomach, for a 7 year old his hits were surprisingly solid.
As the day progressed you had managed to convince Sukuna to have lunch despite the fact he didn’t eat human food. But he watched as Yuji sat beside him slurping away at noodles and his rice topped with diced meat, “Boy’s more human than curse.” Was all Sukuna said when Yuji looked up at him, noodles hanging out his mouth before he slurped them up smiling. “Daddy I gotta Pee.” Sukuna sighed standing up out of the booth, “then go.” “…go with me?” Yuji looked up at his dead with pleading eyes before Sukuna groaned and motioned for him to go, “Fine.” Sukuna was waiting outside the bathroom when he heard a trio, two men and one woman. “That's her isn’t it? She’s the Deity at the Shrine house isn’t she?” One man asked the girl. She just shrugged, “Yeah but I don’t see what’s so special about her? So she had some big curses kid, her body’s probably trashed or something.” “Shut up Kaguya, you're probably just jealous, any man would give anything to lay that woman in their bed. If I had a chance I’d get her pregnant too, look at her, I’d do anything to pull her robes off.” The second guy spoke up, “That’s sick man, she has a husband and kid, Yeah she’s pretty but she’s literally a deity, have some respect.” Kaguya interrupted “She’s probably a slut and maid who just had sex with him and got lucky she got pregnant, she’d probably spread her legs for anyone if they offered a comfortable lif-“ Sukuna’s hands were bloody, in a matter of seconds he had ripped th hearts out of the first man and the girls chest. It hadn't been processed as they managed to look up his blood covered hands. The smirk on his face was sinister and became worse when the second man looked up at him in fear, struggling to scream. He shoved the man’s friend's heart into his mouth like a gag, leaning down with a threatening voice “You’d do best to keep your mouth shut.”
Yuji and you had wandered off from Sukuna when he became surrounded by people bearing gifts to honour him. He was annoyed and even more when he turned to realise both you and Yuji had left his side. You were taking Yuji with you to the shrine house the people had built for you. The eunuchs at the entrance greeted you, stopping to ask if Yuji would be entering with you, which caused him to hold onto the side of your robes and sleeve, you put your hand on his shoulder comforting him, “Yes, this is my son after all.” Entering the shrine, you made your way all the way to the back where you would sit and wait before the doors would open to the public. Yuji was walking around the room looking around until he stopped. You had a wall where all the drawings he’d ever given you while leaving the palace had been framed because “I don wan you to forget me” A young girl came into the room shocked that Yuji was there until you cleared your throat, “oh! Forgive me Lady Y/n, I didn’t know you would be here today.” You waved a hand of dismissal. “I didn’t expect to be here either, but I thought Yuji,” you looked at him, he was staring at the girl in the door, slowly walking to you, his eyes never left her face. He looked serious, a face his dad often wore when something was wrong and he was watching it play out or when he was lost in thought. He turned away from you leaning against your lap standing between you and the girl. “Who the hell is she?” He sounded like a younger version of his dad with his demanding tone and dead stare, his curse word caught you off guard. You tried to form words stopping when you couldn’t, “she’s a servant who works here Yu, what’s wrong?” You leaned trying to get a look at his face, but he wouldn’t turn to look at you, he had his target. The girl became uncomfortable under his stare, “well, him Lady y/n there was an expecting mother who came by begging for a miracle.. the details shouldn’t be explained in front of such a young boy or boy at all really but-“ you held up your hand silencing her. “Bring her into the main room. I'll be out in a minute. I just need to make sure Yuji will be okay here for a few minutes.” She bowed, closing the door, Yuji turned to look at you and he seemed visibly at ease, “Yu.. what’s wrong?” He looked at the door, “She’s funny.. in a bad way..” you didn’t know how to answer. “Alright, I’ll remember that then.” You stood up, setting him on your chair and kneeling in front of him, “Will you be okay here? Alone for a short bit?” He shook his head no while kicking his feet, “Don’t leave me.”
That’s how you ended up with Yuji following quietly behind you when you made your way through the hallways to the main room. He got distracted stopping for a moment to look at a picture, the end of the hallway split two ways. There was a painting of Sukuna holding newborn Yuji, he looked so serious in the painting, when you told Sukuna you wanted it for your shrine he refused to smile saying it wouldn’t look good in the public eye or something along those words. Yuji was pulled out of his day dream when he heard you scream, he ran trying to find you. He froze seeing a man cornering you in the hallway, you were fighting him off the best you could but you couldn’t only do so much against a half curse half man that was attempting to measure up to Sukuna. He was far off from even touching the hem of Ryomen’s robes, but he was an entitled arrogant bastard. When the servant girl came, Yuji saw how she smiled at the scene. Yuji ran in blind, jumping and climbing the man’s back, wrapping his arms around his neck and biting into his shoulder. The man screamed and tried to pull Yuji free. He couldn’t do it alone so the servant girl tried, you fought harder when you saw how she was shaking him around. You broke free from the man's grip pulling Yuji free from her before rushing screaming for Sukuna, all the eunuchs wouldn’t be able to help you. The man grabbed your robes and Yuji fell from your arms, he watched his man lift you by the front of your robes and your hands, nails were digging into his wrist.
Why don’t you use your technique mom!? DO SOMETHING! dads not he- “Domain Expansion” the room went black, there was the sound of a drip and everything was dark, it felt hard to breathe, “Cleave.” Your eyes widened before you shoved the man off of you. You heard the squelch and thud of a body, and the crashing and cracking of the walls to your shrine being torn apart. Turning to look you saw Yuji, his hand sign was opposite his fathers, but he looked livid. His face was covered in markings mirroring his fathers more human form. You wanted to say something, but you turned to the gaping wall. The Cursed man was laying in the dusty street, he was sliced deeply but not fatally. The servant didn’t stand a chance. She was sliced finely for betrayal. Watching a crowd gather you pulled Yuji with you to see if the cursed man was alive. He was laying there, unfocused, he saw you and yelled “ILL FUCKING KILL YOU AND YOUR DAMN CHILD I AM THE ONE DESTINED FOR GREAT I WILL BE THE KING OF CURSES YOU BOTH WILL DIE AT MY HANDS,” before forcing himself up, chest, arms, and waist crossed with deep gashes.
He tried to lift his hands only to realise they weren’t there, his arms were gone. Yuji was mad that a man would try to take advantage of his mother, but as long as his father wasn’t there he would be there, but for now, a low chuckled rumbled behind the man, “You’ll need your hands to even think about laying them on my wife and son.” Sukuna wrapped his arm around the man from behind, large hand squeezing his neck, a low grumble, “You aren’t strong, you’re a fool and your brain is a pile of shit. You deserve only the worst death, but I’m having a little fun here so I’ll make this slow and painful.” Uraume approached Sukuna holding out his staff. Sukuna stabbed it into the ground piercing the man on the pointed edges, letting him sink down until it pierced through his chest. There the cursed man screamed and no matter how much he squirmed and begged for mercy Sukuna would push him down further. The man begged for mercy, for him to stop, “Did you listen to my wife when she asked you to stop?” He took the man’s jaw in his hand forcing him to look up at him, the pressure slowly fracturing his jaw as he shook his head no trying to profusely apologise. Sukunas nails dug into his face before he let go, “Did you have mercy on my wife when you grabbed her like this?” His large hand crushed the man's throat, nails digging into his skin, blood flowing, “WHEN MY WIFE TRIED TO PUSH YOU AWAY DID YOU WALK AWAY? NO YOU TRIED TO TOUCH HER LIKE THIS.” Sukuna placed his hand on the man’s chest, “dishonourable actions will be paid for with blood.” The crowd was watching when Sukuna drove his hand into the man’s chest squeezing his heart in his chest, the man screamed and gurgled as he spat up blood. Sukuna ripped out his heart throwing it on the ground and ripping off his head crushing his skull in his head, “Let this be a warning to every human in the vicinity, in this city in the existence of this time, that any man or woman who would act to lift a hand against my child or wife, your blood will be spilled to atone your sins.”
The crowd quickly cleared out and Sukuna turned to you, Yuji still had the markings on his face, his eyes were red. Sukuna nodded, holding an arm out to you. Pushing Yuji ahead of you, you started to tear up, hugging your husband’s side. Yuji was hugging your side. “Ryo-“ he shushed you using a hand to press your face against his chest. Burying your face against his hot skin your body wanted to tremble while you cried into the comforting of your husband but his presence was reassuring as surprising as it might sound. He rubbed his warm hand up and down your back “I’m here now.” He rested his chin on top of your head, he looked down at Yuji pulling him into his other side ruffling his hair. “You did good kid.” Yuji still looked serious before he leaned into his dads side with a slight smile. He went over to hug you, you took hold of him and he didn’t let go until you stopped sniffling. He smiled up at you, puffy eyes and red cheeks, Sukuna snickered, pinching your cheek making a joke, Yuji’s bright smile didn’t falter, “I still think you’re pretty.” Your sudden laugh made your husband and son laugh. Kneeling down you pinched both of Yuji’s cheeks lightly as he laughed, before cupping his face in both hands bringing him close to kiss both of cheeks and forehead calling him “My Little Protector.” He smiled with pride before you got up smiling at Sukuna, he sides eyed you before sighing leaning to the side giving you his face, “and my big hero.” Cupping his face you brought him into a kiss and he smirked against your lips when Yuji let out a loud “eeeewwww”
“Cmon Yu,” you held your hand out to him and he took it happily walking while holding your hand, “I’ll be stronger next time!”
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To Care For A Woman
Chapter 3
Simon Riley X Reader
Summary: You join the army as a last-ditch effort to avoid destitution, but when you sustain an injury protecting Lieutenant Ghost and earn yourself a medical discharge, you're stuck all over again. Or maybe not...
Warnings: Tension, Simon wants to care for you, small reader, a little bit spicy but not NSFW, man worrying about a woman's safety, typical cannon violence, deception, I'm sorry it's unedited...
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 chapter4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6
Chapter 7 Chapter 8
Reader’s POV
You weren’t sure why Ghost had to drive you out to your new home. He’d been insistent on seeing you there safely rather than letting quite literally anyone else do so. In fact, he’d almost seemed jumpy, stating that Simon wouldn’t like strangers near his home, and that you ought to keep that in mind.
How you were supposed to feel like this was anything but an elaborate plot to murder you and scatter your remains in the woods was unfathomable to you, but Ghost trusted Simon. While you weren’t entirely sure where you stood with the Lieutenant, he’d been the only one to stay back with you and ensure you got out alive.
“When will he be home?” You asked as Ghost focused on the road ahead. He’d given no indication how far the drive would be, and you’d left base about forty minutes ago.
“Tomorrow,” Ghost answered plainly, giving no indication as to what Simon was doing that would have him preoccupied elsewhere.
You let out a soft hum and leaned back in your seat. The humvee would occasionally jostle you, and you hissed at the pain in your knee. The pain medicine was beginning to wear off, but you were too afraid to bring it to Ghost’s attention.
Instead, you closed your eyes, and focused on your next steps. You would need to get some new clothes, having little more than the clothes you’d been sent off in. Maybe if Simon wasn’t too opposed to taking you into town, you could visit the second-hand store.
When you were young, your mother used to take you to pick out patterned tablecloths that had been donated, and would take them home and see you little sundresses.
You recalled a white one with frills that you wore down to the neighbor’s strawberry field, and hadn't lasted the morning before it was an unfortunate mess of red strawberry juice and mud after you had burrowed beneath the strawberry patch and clawed the fruit off the vine like a little, white mouse taking refuge in the cool dirt.
Your mother had called you a little troll for your bad behavior, and made you wear the stained up dress to school anyway.
The Humvee jostled you again, knocking your knee against the vehicle, and you nearly choked on the breath of air you inhaled. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. Ghost was anything but gentle, even in his driving.
Simon’s POV
He left you settled on his large, plush couch, your only bag on the floor by the door. The cabin was a single story, so he doubted you’d have much trouble maneuvering around as long as you had your crutches.
He’d given you his cell number, not that you knew it was his. You looked…lost as he walked out the door, and if he didn’t have work to finish for price before his leave, he’d have been tempted to tear the mask off his face and assure you that you wouldn’t have to spend the night alone.
It was still hard for him to comprehend that he was now a married man, even if this had been entirely his plan. It didn’t occur to him until you were seated on his sofa, looking as if you felt out of place in your own home that he didn’t know what he was doing.
He had a rough idea of how he wanted things to be. You’d get to know Simon, a second chance for him to redeem himself in your eyes as someone more patient and gentle, and with time you’d forget about the harsh treatment of Lieutenant Ghost. He didn’t try to fool himself into believing that you could ever love Ghost, but maybe he could convince you to love Simon.
The hour drive back to base didn’t feel real. It was still early, and he needed a cup of tea, something he would have preferred to indulge in alone, but alas…
“How’s married life?” Soap asked with a poorly disguised grin, and Ghost glowered at him from the sink.
“Not now, Johnny,” he warned, rolling his eyes. He hadn’t necessarily wanted Soap to know, but he’d also wanted a second opinion on his decision to offer you a bloody marriage contract.
Johnny had thought he was pulling a joke, until he’d seen it with his own two eyes. Once Simon had rather stiffly explained that he had some very confusing feelings for you that wouldn’t allow him to abandon you, the Scotsman had patted him on the shoulder and told him he was a good man. A bloody mad one too, but that was besides the point.
“Difficult drive with the Mrs.?” He asked, that grin still ever present on his face.
“Something like that.” Not at all like that. More accurately he simply didn’t want to leave you there all alone.
“Cut her some slack, L.T., one minute your her boss, the next your her husband, probably a real doozy for the lass.”
“She doesn’t know,” he said softly as Johnny popped a biscuit in his mouth.
“Doesn’t know what?” He asked over the food in his mouth.
“Doesn’t know she married me.”
The Scottsman choked on his biscuit. “Bloody hell!” He exclaimed, wiping a palm across his face. “Ghost, you’ve gotta be yanking my leg here, mate!”
Ghost shook his head.
“Who does she think she married?” Johnny asked, eyes blown wide.
The Lieutenant shrugged. “Simon Riley.”
Johnny sputtered for a moment and shook his head. “That’s so wrong, Mate. She’s gonna be bloody pissed when she finds out-“
“She’s not gonna find out, Johnny,” Ghost hissed. “She’s gotta forget about all of that. Move on with her life.”
“People don’ just forget that kinda trauma, Simon. She nearly lost her leg,” Johnny said.
Simon sighed, pushing his mask up over his nose so he could sip his tea. “Let me worry about my wife, Johnny.”
It was six in the morning when Simon was finally relieved from his post. He found himself spacing out all too often on the road home, pulled out of his thoughts only when the asphalt turned to gravel.
He liked having his home so secluded. He hoped you liked it too. He’d stopped for groceries shortly after leaving base, planning on having breakfast ready before you woke up. He probably should have paid attention before to how you liked your eggs, but it was too late for that now. He’d just have to guess and go with it.
He pulled up to the cabin, the gravel beneath the car grumbling a greeting to his return as he slowed to a stop.
Simon took a deep breath, hooked his fingers beneath his balaclava, and pulled the mask off before stuffing it in his duffel bag. He unpacked the groceries, storing most of the meat in the deep freezer in his garage before finally entering his house.
He kicked off his work boots at the door, his eyes scanning over the room as if he expected things to be out of place. He paused, however when he noted your small form curled up right where he’d left you, your bag still by the door and your crutches against the wall. You were curled in on yourself, likely trying to keep warm as he’d forgotten to turn on the heat for you.
Shit. He’d left you alone for hours in a cold, unfamiliar place. You were supposed to have slept in the bed. He’d expected you to acclimate yourself over the past twenty-four hours, and instead you had curled up on the couch and succumbed to an uncomfortable sleep.
That wouldn’t do.
He moved to your side as quietly as possible, kneeling next to you on the tan rug. His palm gently brushed the side of your head as he watched you closely. “Y/n?” he murmured, his hand moving to squeeze your shoulder.
You gave no sign that you were awake, and Simon sighed, lifting you up as carefully as he could. Once you were properly tucked into bed, he let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.
His shoulders sagged, and with a soft groan he leaned back into the mattress, only just now noticing that he only had one pillow and you were using it. Not that he minded. He needed to take stock of just how unprepared he was for this endeavor.
He switched between staring at the ceiling, and staring at you. You didn’t move much in your sleep, which was a relief. You did, however, let out a soft whine, alerting him to the fact that he’d rested you on the side of your bad knee.
He frowned, internally scolding himself for not thinking of it sooner. It was easy to roll you onto your back, but the action caused you to stir, and Simon stiffened.
~
It must have been early when you woke, because the room was bathed in a soft glow from the sun barely rising outside the window.
It took you only a moment to realize you no longer dozing on the couch. Your eyes settled on the massive figure beside you, traveling up his waist to his chest and shoulders, before finally finding his face.
Simon, or rather you assumed it was Simon, had ruffled blonde hair, with deep set brown eyes and a strong jaw. Handsome for a soldier. You’d expected him to be plain. You were very wrong.
You sat up slowly, and he watched you like a hawk. You expected him to greet you with something, anything, even if it was just snapping at you for crawling into his bed, not that you remembered doing so. Instead he simply stared at you.
“What time is it?” you asked softly, your voice hoarse from sleep.
“Almost eight,” he murmured, and you blinked in surprise. He had an English accent, very mancunian, just like Ghost’s. The similarity was actually rather uncanny. “You can go back to sleep, or I can make breakfast.”
This felt very strange. You were in a stranger’s house, in their bed and said stranger was offering to make you breakfast as if you weren’t an intruder. You felt tears prick your eyes, suddenly feeling very out of place.
Simon’s brow dipped, a look of panic crossing his face as he tried to figure out what he’d done this time as tears spilled from your eyes.
“Y/n?” He asked, a shaking hand brushing your hair behind your ear.
“I’m sorry, this is just…really overwhelming-“
Simon was quick to pull you against his chest, pulling a soft gasp from you.
“You’re safe, I promise. M’ not gonna let anything happen to ya,” he murmured, those deep brown eyes gazing at you as if he’d loved you for a lifetime.
You blinked in surprise, taken aback by his response, your body slumping as your head dropped onto his heavily muscled shoulder.
“Why…why are you doing this for me?” You whispered.
“You made a sacrifice for one of my mates. You could have gotten killed. He felt responsible, wanted to see you taken care of, and…I wanted to help,” he said gently, stroking the back of your head.
You sniffled softly. “Is Ghost important to you?” You asked, gazing up at him curiously. Simon stiffened, unable to hold your gaze.
“Let’s leave the topic of Ghost alone for now, yeah? Give you some time to recover from what happened.”
You tilted your head at him in confusion, but nodded in agreement. It was his house after all. If he didn’t want to bring up work then so be it.
“You’re in good hands here, I promise.”
~
Two weeks went by, and you found that it wasn’t as difficult to adjust to Simon’s presence as you expected. He worked on base twice a week when he wasn’t on mission, and spent the rest of his time caring for you.
You couldn’t help but feel like a pet that was being spoiled more than it deserved. He’d bought you one of those nice, memory foam pillows, despite your insistence that you could just sleep on his large, plushy couch.
Truthfully you were a little frightened at the idea of sharing his bed, but he kept a respectful distance away from you, and there wasn’t even the mention of sexual expectations.
He slept on his back, or facing the door, something you assumed was an ingrained behavior.
He let you sleep in the mornings, but once you’d had breakfast he was practically dragging you out of the cabin to take a walk with your crutches, encouraging you not to stay in bed all day.
You supposed it was a good thing, as you’d likely become depressed if left to your own devices. He took you to town only once to find some new clothes, and gave you a very displeased look when you tried to insist on the thrift shop rather than the department store he pulled the truck up to.
“No wife of mine is walking around in a stranger’s hand-me-downs”
With that, he’d helped you inside and gotten you an array of loose pants and comfortable tops to spend your recovery in.
He was certainly committed to his promise of taking care of you.
He didn’t talk much, and you still found that a little unsettling, but his lack of words was matched by his aptitude for actions, making sure you didn’t so much as lift a finger unless you adamantly wanted to.
You hadn’t told your parents about the arrangement, and had been worrying just how you were going to go about keeping the situation on the down low. They’d call eventually, and you had to think of something to keep them from going into a panic.
You watched Simon from the corner of your eye as he started the truck, having helped you into your seat and gotten you buckled moments ago.
You weren’t sure if he was anxious about your check up, or if he was simply displeased at the thought of having you back on base. He seemed to dislike the idea very much if his hesitancy to bring you back to Dr. Radcliffe was anything to go by, but the doctor had insisted on it as he was the one to handle your knee surgery to begin with.
“Simon?” You called as the gravel road disappeared and gave way to paved asphalt. “Do you think Ghost will be available today? I never got to thank him for everything,” you said softly.
Simon tensed, and you couldn’t help but frown a little. “I’ll ask him,” he assured you, taking your hand in his and giving it a light squeeze.
A smile lit up your face, the first one he’d seen since the ordeal at the warehouse, and his heart aches for it. “Thank you, Simon.”
He nodded in response, but his stomach was in knots. He didn’t deserve your thanks. Not as Ghost, and not as Simon. Maybe someday, when you had forgotten all about what had happened to you, and lived a carefree life. Maybe then he could deserve it.
~
“I’ll be honest, I’m not entirely pleased with the results so far,” Dr. Radcliffe said as he looked over your x-rays.
“What does that mean?” Simon asked, his arms crossed over his chest.
“Is it bad?” You asked as you sat on the paper covered table.
“It means unless we get you set up with a physical therapist you’ll be on those crutches for the rest of your life.” The doctor explained.
Your eyes widened, and you were about to exclaim that you couldn’t possibly afford that when Simon cut in.
“What are her chances with the physical therapy?” He asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.
“Slim, but better. Might have a limp, but definitely more mobility.” Radcliffe assured him.
“I can’t afford Physical Therapy,” you cut in, and the two men glanced down at you.
“Yes, we can,” Simon said gently, brushing your hair behind your ear. You simply gaped at him in astonishment. PT was expensive, especially for such an involved injury. You couldn’t expect him to pay for that, but the warning glance he sent your way said that the two of you would not be discussing it now.
“I’ll send out a recommendation for the practitioner closest to you.” Radcliffe said. “However I’d still like to see you back here a month from now.” You nodded, and Simon ‘tisked’ in response.
Thanks, doc,” you said, offering him a small smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.
~
Simon left you to your lunch in the mess hall with the excuse that he had some paperwork to do, and you didn’t question him once he set a burger in front of you. He was quickly finding that a good meal was all he needed to keep you in a good mood.
He felt ridiculous, slipping into his office and shucking off his civilian clothes in exchange for his uniform and mask, before turning around and thundering back to the mess hall.
He didn’t plan on this double-life mess, but he was going to put an end to it. His eyes landed on your little form happily munching away on your lunch, and he let out a deep sigh, clearing his throat as he approached you.
“Ghost?” You looked up in surprise, wiping the condiments off the corner of your mouth on a napkin. He always saw you use your shirt sleeve, and he felt a swell of pride that you liked the little green sweater he’d gotten you enough to preserve its newness.
“Simon said you wanted to see me?” He asked gruffly, crossing his arms over his chest.
You nodded vigorously. “I wanted to thank you for your help. I don’t know what I would have done otherwise-“
“This is what you called me down here for?” He asked, and your face fell. He felt the absence of your smile as an ache in his chest.
“I…I just thought…you’d want to know that I’m safe,” you said.
Simon felt his heart swell at the words. It was a relief to hear you say it, and it made what he was about to do even harder.
“One less thing to worry about then,” he stated grumpily, turning on his heel with a roll of his eyes and leaving you to gape at his back.
~
He felt like a kid in a play, switching costumes depending on his role in the moment. Price raised a brow when Simon passed his door four separate times in two different outfits.
He could have sworn he heard Johnny mutter “you don’t want to know.” To his captain. They were going to give him hell for this.
He was nearing the mess hall when his phone chimed the very specific sound he’d set for you, and was quick to open his messages.
I want to go home.
He wasn’t sure if he should be glad you viewed the cabin as home, or worried about the damage control he was going to have to do.
He entered the mess hall, preparing himself for whatever state of disarray you’d be in, only you weren’t there. His head whipped around the room, looking for any sight of you, but you had seemingly vanished.
Shit.
Where are you?
He rushed out of the mess hall, looking for any sign of your presence. He didn’t see your crutches, so he could only assume you’d left on your own.
I’m in the truck.
He let out a breath of relief, pulling the keys from his pocket. He probably would have put the whole base on lockdown if you hadn’t replied.
He made quick strides to the parking lot, opening the door to the driver's seat and hauling himself in as quickly as possible.
“Everything alright?” He knew it wasn’t, but it felt polite to ask anyway.
“M’ fine,” you mumbled, leaning your head against the door.
Simon bit his lip as he watched you wilt. You looked as if the life had been sapped out of you. Maybe he’d been too harsh.
“Y/n?” He called, placing a hand on your shoulder. You didn’t acknowledge it and he sighed. “Let’s go home,” he mumbled.
You were silent the entire drive back, and Simon was genuinely starting to question if he’d broken you. You had just gotten some rather bleak news.
“We could stop at that bakery in town,” he offered, glancing at you to gauge your reaction.
“I’m not really in the mood.”
Simon pursed his lips, his brow ticking slightly. He was trying to make things better, why were you fighting against him? Ghost was supposed to be the villain here, not him.
Your mood only seemed to worsen as the day went on, and Simon couldn’t wrap his head around it. At least until you snapped.
“Can I please just do one thing for myself!”
He’d just wanted to take up your dinner, shooing you out of the kitchen so he could do so when you decided you’d had enough.
“You do everything for me. I’m not a child, I’m a grown woman! For fuck’s sake it’s like I’m a prisoner or something!”
Your tirade was followed by a pathetic hobble down the hallway and slam of the bathroom door. He was fairly certain he heard muffled sobs before the tub faucet was turned on to drown them out.
Simon crossed his arms and leaned against the kitchen counter with a frown. You weren’t just upset about Ghost, he realized. You were upset about your leg, about the feeling of losing your autonomy, and his dismissal of you in the mess hall had been the proverbial cherry on top.
You had said you felt safe, but what you really felt was stifled.
He let out a deep sigh, running his hands through his hair. It seemed while keeping you in bubble wrap suited him just fine, it was slowly eating away at you.
This wasn’t what he had wanted for you. He’d wanted you to be able to do things that made you happy, not be stuck doing nothing at all.
You may have been small, and fragile compared to Ghost, but you had still been a soldier, and it was something you took pride in. He hadn’t meant for you to lose purpose, but if you were really going to be happy here, he needed to help you find a new one.
~
You felt terrible. You shouldn’t have snapped at Simon. You should have just calmly explained that you needed him to give you some space, but after Ghost had reminded you just how useless, how much of a burden he saw you as, it had triggered the rage that had been building in you for a while now.
None of this was fair. You had done your job well, despite being at a higher risk, you’d put the well being of your teammates above yourself to the very end, and your mind was still just as sharp.
Despite all this, it seemed both Ghost and Simon thought you were useless. The difference was Simon didn’t seem to tack worthless onto the list of things you were as well.
You didn’t feel right sleeping in his bed that night, or taking advantage of any of the kindnesses he’d given you for that matter. You were tempted to go sleep outside but it was freezing. Instead you curled up under a blanket with one of Simon’s chess books and read until you fell asleep.
At some point you heard him get up and put on a kettle for tea, before venturing out through the back door. You pretended to still be asleep if only to avoid the impending confrontation.
You eventually heard the telltale sound of a saw in his work shed, and supposed the coast was clear to make a cup of tea.
You went back to reading your book, not sure what else to do, until Simon’s footsteps sounded on the back porch, followed by the door opening. You tried not to stiffen when he stopped right in front of you. Maybe he’d been out there making the coffin he was going to bury you in for being an ungrateful little-
“Could use a hand if you’re not busy.”
Your eyes flicked up to meet his. “With what?” You asked skeptically.
He held out a hand to you, a gentle smile spreading on his face. “You’ll see.”
He walked slowly, acting as a crutch so you wouldn’t need to get them out of the kitchen. He led you to a portion of the yard that had been sectioned off with wooden planks. There was a chair seated beside it, along with a small shovel and a rake.
“What’s this?” You asked as he helped lower you into your seat.
“Garden box. Gonna start growing stuff,” he explained. “Fresh tea is good for you, especially in the colder months.”
He pulled a pair of gloves on and handed you a slightly smaller pair, along with the handheld shovel. “You can start pullin’ dirt out of those bags and droppin’ it in here,” ge explained.
“Wouldn’t this go faster if you just dumped these in yourself?” You asked as he picked up the rake.
Simon shook his head. “You could use some fresh air, and you might as well accomplish somethin’ instead of sittin’ like a bump on a log.”
You could tell he was excited about his little task by the way his accent got thicker, and you had to admit it was a little cute.
“Fair enough,” you murmured, shoveling dirt into the box for him to spread out with the rake. It was a little mindless, but the sound of the birds was nice, and the sun slowly rising in the sky casted a warm glow on your face.
Once you’d emptied two bags of dirt Simon went inside to grab you both a bottle of water before planting the seeds. He handed you the bottle, and a little packet of electrolyte mix, but he didn’t mix it for you, and instead went about opening the little seed packets after having downed his own water.
You had to admit that Simon was quite the sight in that tight gray shirt with a shovel in his hands. You bet he looked even better with a rifle.
“I’m sorry about yesterday,” you murmured as he passed you a small packet of seeds. Simon paused, looking up at you in surprise, before nodding at you.
“I…I’m sorry that I wasn’t paying attention before,” he began, taking a step towards you and cupping your cheek with his large hand. “I see you now,” he murmured softly, bending down to place a kiss on your forehead.
You let out a sigh of relief, leaning against him as your arms wrapped around his middle. “Thank you, Simon,” you whispered as he returned your embrace.
AN: wow this ended up being long~ Lots of drama to come!!!
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Stray Kids Reaction || He Throws His Wedding Ring [Maknae Line ] [Mafia Edition]
⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - February 2024
⤜MASTERLIST
TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of blood, killing, sex trafficking (not involving the reader) murder and fighting.
JISUNG:
"I wasn't flirting with him! I don't know why you're accusing me of such a thing." You grumbled at Jisung who shook his head at you, watching as you walked toward the dressing table in your bedroom and took the earrings from your ears, the earrings he'd paid for and watched you wear as you flirted with other men. His anger was bubbling over as he stared at you,
"I saw the way you were looking at him, Yn, don't play games with me." You started rubbing your temples, getting tired of going through this again and again. Ever since you'd been dragged out of the party he'd been lecturing you about flirting, something you hadn't even done.
"I was being polite. I don't know what you want from me. First, I'm too standoffish, now I'm flirting?!" He'd told you to be nice to everyone at the party, that everyone there was someone who deserved to be treated with respect so that was what you'd been doing. You'd spoken to Dante a little longer than anyone else but you'd been helping pick a necklace for his wife - Vivian.
"Polite?! It looked to me like you were ready to throw yourself at him. I can't have my wife acting like that, especially in our world." You stared down at the ring on your finger, feeling the weight of his accusation on your shoulders and you tried to hold back the tears.
"Jisung, I married you because I love you. I did not come into this marriage to be accused of things I didn't do." You told him, lifting your head to look at him and he was twisting the ring off his finger and placing it down onto the bed.
"Maybe you should find someone else who will let you flirt with other men," You shuddered a little at the sudden escalation of all of this. You just wanted him to understand that you hadn't done anything.
"I don't want anyone else, Jisung. I want you to trust me." You breathed out but he stormed out of the room leaving you alone you stared down at the ring on the bed, sniffling as you slowly sank down onto your knees,
"I don't think she would want you here," You heard Dante express as you looked up from the book you were reading. After Jisung had walked out on you, you'd packed a bag and headed to Vivian's for a few nights wanting to clear your head.
"Why are you here?" You turned your head to face Jisung who was seething with anger.
"Vivian invited me for a sleepover."
"Who's-" Jisung couldn't finish his question as Vivian came into the room with wine glasses, freezing when she saw Jisung standing there.
"I'm taking my wife home."
"She doesn't want to." You told him as you opened your book and went back to reading.
"She doesn't have a choice," Jisung grumbled as he took your hand and helped you up from the sofa.
"You come willingly or I take you, it's up to you, Sunshine." You hadn't heard him call you that in years and the nickname sent shivers down your spine.
"I can't be with someone who doesn't know how to trust me."
"I know how. I was an arsehole and I never should have said what I did."
"I have to see this," Dante whined but Vivian was quick to walk him to their private bedroom so you and Jisung could finish.
"I'm sorry," He stated, his voice full of concern and sincerity and you knew he meant it.
"I should have trusted you from the start but I just couldn't see past my own blind rage. Dante could take you if he wanted to."
"That would be kidnapping...I'm only interested in one man, Jisung and it's only ever always been you."
"I'm sorry," He whispered as you stepped closer to him, sighing a little as you ran your hands over his cheeks sweeping away the tears.
"Take me home." You told him before placing a gentle kiss on his cheek.
FELIX:
"You never listen, Felix!" You yelled out with a sharp whine, the two of you were in his office in a heated argument and almost everyone in the house had scattered after hearing you both.
"It's always your business, never a moment about us!" Your voice echoed through the room as Felix sat at his desk with his fist clenching around his glass,
"I provide for you, Yn! What more do you want?!" He finally yelled back, the final straw breaking the camel's back after listening to you yell at him for the last hour and still having no idea why you were fighting with him in the first place.
He'd only come home late and you were jumping down his neck about how he wasn't there for you.
"I want a husband that is there for me! That actually shows up when he's supposed to!" You yelled at him, shaking your head as you thought back on what tonight was supposed to be. A meal between families, your parents and Felix were going to sit down with you both for the first time in months and he hadn't even bothered to show up.
"Is this because I missed that stupid dinner?!" The fact that he was calling it stupid only further fueled your anger with him.
"Stupid? You didn't call it that when you asked your parents to come."
"Look, I'll make it up to you. I'll buy you whatever-"
"I want my fucking husband to show up when he's supposed to!" You cut him off, if you were anyone else in the world Felix would have killed you on the spot for interrupting him and you knew that.
With the argument intensifying Felix impulsively ripped off his gold band and hurled it across the room before it clattered at your feet. You stared down at it, soft sobs leaving your throat as you stared down at the ring that clearly meant nothing to him.
"I mean that little to you?" You sniffled, turning your head to look at him and Felix was filled with instant regret but before he had a chance to utter an apology you were already fleeing the room.
It didn't take him long to find out where you were hiding and your parents let him in instantly, leaving you alone as you stared down at your wedding album.
"We used to be happy." You muttered to him, turning the pages and looking at what you used to be. Now there were nothing but cracks in your marriage and broken vows on both of your parts.
"We can still be happy..." Felix sunk down onto the floor beside you and you laid your head on his shoulder sighing a little.
"You work too much. You miss too much," You mumbled as he took your hand in his, his ring back on his finger as he stared down at your fingers that were interlocked with one another.
"I'll delegate the work, I'll take a step back." He promised, you'd heard the promises before but there was something behind his words this time that made you believe them.
SEUNGMIN:
You couldn't even believe Seungmin, after promising you that he'd stick to having fun tonight he'd snuck off to do business behind your back and at your party no less.
"What are you doing? Changbin said you were outside, you're supposed to be inside baby." Seungmin placed his hands on your shoulders but you shrugged his touch away from you, everything felt so cold with him later tonight.
"Sixteen." You told him plainly, watching as a cab pulled up outside of the luxury hotel that Seungmin had hired out for your party tonight.
"Sixteen what?" Seungmin frowned not following along,
"You've broken sixteen promises in the last three months." You clenched the jacket around you tighter and stared at him as a storm brewed inside of you. Tonight was supposed to be special, both of you were dressed up to the nines and ready to party and he'd promised to keep everything fun.
"You promised, Seungmin that tonight was my night and you were off doing business."
"This is how things work, Yn. I needed to do this deal." He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose as if he couldn't believe you were upset over something so small. It was a business he'd been working on for almost a year now and tonight was the only night the man was willing to close the deal, it was his only chance.
"You promised." You whispered, trying to get him to realise the weight of his actions but it was as though he didn't care at all.
"You knew when you married me things were going to be like this." As if that was any justification for any of this, you shook your head at him and stepped toward the cab opening the door for yourself.
"Did I? Because the Seungmin I thought I was marrying never broke a single promise to me." The whole nine years before the two of you had gotten married had been the best times of your relationship, it felt as though once he had you he didn't care to try and put in any more effort.
"Then maybe you never should have married me then," The words hung in the air as you both stared at each other, the DJ's music the only buffer between you.
"Maybe." You whispered staring at him, waiting for him to take it back or to at least take you back inside but he just took off his ring and threw it behind the cab. He locked eyes with you as you got into the car and told the driver to drive, anywhere but there and the gravity of his action began to weigh down on him.
"Yn! Wait!" He yelled out but the car was already speeding off leaving him in the aftermath of what he had just done.
"Why am I here?" You questioned Changbin - your personal guard - he'd dragged you out of bed that morning and down to Seungmin's home saying nothing to you.
"This will come as a surprise to many of you but it's come to my attention that I must step down." You stared at Seungmin as he spoke into a crowd of men.
"This isn't something I regret to inform you, in fact, it's something I'm welcoming with open arms." His eyes found yours in the crowd and he smiled warmly,
"I'm leaving to spend time with my wife and eventually our growing family. I'll still be here but...mostly behind the scenes." With that he stepped away and headed over to you right away, you sniffled a little.
"Who said your wife still wants you?" You teased a little as he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you flush with his chest.
"If she doesn't I will spend every single day of my life trying to make her want me back," You smiled weakly before kissing him softly.
JEONGIN:
After the shot rang out you felt the warmth of blood on your face you knew what Jeongin had done and you felt sick as you stared down at the floor to see the man who had just been speaking about you on the floor.
"W-What the fuck?!" You yelled out as you stared at Jeongin who was calmly making his way over to you and wiping your face with a tissue as if this was the most normal thing in the world for him to do. Which was in his line of work but he'd promised never to do anything like this in front of you, it was one of the conditions you had when you agreed to get married.
"He had it coming, he shouldn't have disrespected you," It was true he shouldn't have but that didn't mean taking the life of a man that neither of you knew.
"What if he had a family and he was their sole earner?!" You yelled at him but he shrugged, bending down and collecting the man's wallet so he could have his men do a background check.
"I'll provide for them. They're better off without the drunken low-life." You began walking away from him,
"That's not the way to the car, Beautiful." You ignored the nickname he had for you as you continued to walk in the opposite direction of him.
"You went too far, Jeongin." You using his full name was never a good sign and he swallowed the lump in his throat.
"I didn't ask you to kill anyone for me." Your voice quivered with anger and fear as you shook your head at him.
"I did it for you. He was disrespecting you and I won't have it." You stopped in your tracks and turned to look at him, you couldn't believe that this was the same man you had once fallen in love with.
"So you'll kill anyone that even looks at me wrong?"
"If that's what it takes." He told you plainly, you let out a scoff and threw your hands up in defeat. The frustation finally took over as you stared at him. You needed him to see how wrong all of this was for him,
"You're disgusting. All of this power has gone to your head!"
"I do what needs to be done. This is our life and I won't let anyone or anything threaten it!" He yells at you, his face red with anger as you stare at him breathing heavily.
"I don't want this life anymore, not if it means losing you to the power you hold." You mumbled to him in the heat of the moment but Jeongin smirked at you, taking off his ring and throwing it to the floor. Silence hung in the air as you stared down at the ring in disbelief, the unbreakable bond you'd made together was now thrown to the ground as if it were trash so you walked away.
As it turned out it wasn't as easy as you'd hoped to walk away from Jeongin, you were forced to interact as a couple at events and the same with tonight.
"Will you ever speak to me again?" Jeongin whispered to you,
"No, while you're a power-hungry weirdo," You mumbled before drinking from your glass, downing it and asking for another which was promptly brought to you.
"I'm stepping down." He told you as he watched you down another drink,
"I've heard that before." You grumbled only for him to place his hand on top of yours.
"Chan is taking over, I shouldn't be in charge," You stared at him and glanced over at Chan who was nervously waiting to speak to the party full of people.
"Is that what tonight is? You're resigning?"
"Stepping down, I'll still work but I won't...be in charge," He admitted as you stared at him,
"Why?"
"Because given the choice between my wife and work? I choose you, every time." He whispered before clapping for Chan along with everyone else in the room.
@chiisaiblog @sw33tnight @kaitieskidmore97 @laylasbunbunny @stayconnecteed @saymyspringrain @toplinehyunjin @katnisspeetaprim @acciocriativity @just-aelia @choisoorin @straykids5star @midnightfrog625 @beccaskz @scarletemeterio @halesandy @junhannies @gothic4under4lord @lixie-phoria @soulphoenix1618 @aerastus @jin-from-the-block @lensfilm @elizaschuyler18 @piratequeen-impact @kpopsstuffs @chaeyoungs @delulu18 @xyahrinx @katsukis1wife @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @blairscott @4-chan-inpadella @niktwazny303 @moonlight-the-writer @armystay89 @hadassahchan @yxngbxkkie @myyouthdonut @extrhotjne @ca11me3mily @elissasimp @xakx @sleepb @kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy @kpopmenace143 @minhosify @loveforred @b1nn1e-1s-cut3
#skz#skz x reader#skz reaction#skz reactions#stray kids#stray kids x reader#stray kids reaction#stray kids reactions#jisung x reader#felix x reader#seungmin x reader#jeongin x reader#yang jeongin#jeongin#kim seungmin#seungmin#lee felix#felix#han jisung#jisung#bang chan#lee minho#seo changbin#hwang hyunjin
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Requests are open?? May I request Lilia and Malleus from the self aware au with a player who is an artist and draws them a lot?
Self-aware au
I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!
WARNINGS: Yandere themes, obsession, death, murder, hypocrisy, fire, coma, unhealthy relationship, possessive behavior
Malleus Draconia/Lilia Vanrouge-Player is an artist who draws them a lot
Doesn't matter what kind of style and form of art you practice, you have a fan
Classical? Great! Realism? Wonderful! Stick-man-style? He put the picture in a golden frame (All hail the stick-man style!)
But if Malleus were to ever find out that said stick man is supposed to be him, well he would be over the moon
It was a totally normal day, a cat was choking up a hairball and some poor student fell off of his broom in flying class and was now stuck in a tree
But that is of no importance to us
What is of importance though is Malleus strolling down the path down to Ramshackle and seeing you sit on the stairs with paper and other drawing utensils
Completely normal. Peaceful even. Maybe a bit too peaceful
You see, if you hadn't been too absorbed into rubbing colored pigments into dead wood then you would have seen the tall black wall approaching you
A shadow falls over your shoulder and you scream
Is that... him? Why is the Overseer draw-oh
Malleus is metaphorically (more or less. Meh, he is probably this close to doing it also literally) frothing from his mouth after seeing himself in more than just one paper after the small stack stabilizing the paper you drew on slipped from your hands
Forgetting his manners he rips the paper from the ground, staring with eyes wide as plates onto the thinly pressed wood (granny is somewhere shaking her head)
Why would the Overseer, watcher over worlds, almighty ruler of everything, a god, draw him?
Coughing nervously you explained that you just are interested in are and liked to draw him
Later when he is back in Diasomnia Lilia is greeted with the sight of a tail-wagging Malleus (yes Malleus has a tail and I have no idea how he hides it)
“Lilia, the Overseer likes to draw me.”-moments before calamity struck and Malleus accidentally lit the dorm aflame from sheer joy
But... perhaps you shouldn't draw anyone else
Who knows? Maybe that person disappears for a while and just to be found in a deep coma (don't do it)
Whoa whoa whoa darling, let us not jump at him from nowhere with the fact that you like to draw him
After all, he is quite old and we don't know what his poor heart can still take
Now how about you tell him about your interest in art fir- ah... From your expression I take that it is too late for that
Indeed it is
One day you were just sitting there in Ramshackle, T-posing or whatever you do when you are not drawing
Remember that scene when Lilia was introduced to us? Well “How do you do fellow kids” over here just popped out of thin air
Now, that would have been nothing special if it wasn't for the stack of paper with his face on it on the table...
Lilia is staring, you are staring and the gargoyles are facepalming
Poor man has to take a seat all whilst you watch him with cold sweat running down your back
Suddenly Lilia isn't that “always energetic” guy but looks a lot more vulnerable
In Lilias mind however he is planning how to burn that one portrait of himself in the Draconia castle and replace it with your art
Or so he thought until he looked what else you drew
For goodness sake, someone call an ambulance! I think he is about to pass out!
If the situation wasn't already awkward enough for you (and euphoric for him) Lilia suddenly kneels down, saying something about being honored and him swearing to be forever loyal to you
Oh sweet summer child, how easily you told him “Oh thanks...” If only you knew what would follow...
You see, Lilia might have had seen a few too many heads being severed from their bodies but, oh well, all those students were a teeny tiny bit too close to you for his comfort
Suddenly there is an increase in missing students who get found in... uh... “not compatible with life” conditions
See? It's dangerous outside! Let him watch over you!
Says the person responsible for everything
You had shown your appreciation through your art, now it's his turn to show his
And what if a few students need to get hurt? (Yeah, “hurt”)
#yandere twisted wonderland#yandere twst#yandere twisted wonderland x reader#yandere twst x reader#self aware au#twst#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland#twst malleus#twst malleus x reader#twst lilia#twst lilia x reader#malleus draconia x reader#yandere malleus draconia#yandere malleus#malleus x reader#yandere malleus x reader#twisted wonderland malleus#malleus draconia#yandere lilia vanrouge#yandere lilia#twisted wonderland lilia#lilia vanrouge x reader#lilia vanrouge#lilia x reader#yandere lilia x reader
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Hihi! I went on anon cause my main blog is strictly sfw, but I promise I'm an adult(29). Anyways, I had this idea of Ascended Astarion teasing Tav/Reader in front of a mirror. He can't see himself, but loves the way Tav/Reader shudders under his touch and them getting more and more embarrassed because all they can see is themselves getting riled up by seemingly nothing, but when they look down, ofc they see his hands working magic across their body.
Lol ty for the clarification and ask! I've been needing some nsfw practice!
Ascended Astarion nsfw under the cut, 18 + warnings. Like this is not implied smut. It is smut, graphic. Possessive, obsessive, manipulative, bad vampire man who loves you. As much as he's capable of. Morally gray human Tav from the start to here. It's only downhill from here baby, m/f angle. But if that doesnt fufill the dream let me know and I can make a gender neutral/ gender nonspecfic no prob! And probably less intense too because this is angsty~~~
Like I went ham, this is a whole ass fic now💀
You frowned at yourself in the bedroom mirror, adjusting your hair for the umpteenth time. It still didn't look right, despite what felt like hours of practice that you'd put into the intricate style.
You sighed as let one of your braids fall down, dissatisfied with what you saw. You didn't exactly look the part of an all-powerful vampire's consort, or at least not with the company you've recently been keeping. But it turned out a significant part of taking over Baldur's Gate was trenched in politics, meetings, balls, social events created for the sole purpose of mind games.
It was exhausting, or at least it was for you. But Astarion seemed to take to it like a duck to water. This life suited him, one of power games and subterfuge, and more often than not, murder. Not that you minded. You were just happy that he was having fun. That he was finally free after all of those years of torment. Even if he was using that freedom for… less than savory ends.
But despite his goals, you had sworn to him that you would never stray. And you intended on making good on that promise.
You just wished that he didn't insist on you being there for all of his "business". You hadn't realized how literal he had been about the whole sitting in his lap plan. It had taken a half-hour conversation to even convince him that no, you would not be doing so in the nude. He still hadn't given up on convincing you off that plan, but you highly doubted that it would help with your current level of heightened insecurity.
Maybe you were worrying for no reason. It wasn't Astarion who made you feel out of place. Well… it was, but not because of anything he did. Just… who he had become. He was so different now, so much colder to everything and everyone but you. More calculating, less forgiving, and just perfect for working with the most dangerous individuals in the mortal plane.
You seemed to be the only living thing he could relax around anymore, the only person who could soften him. It was strange really. You used to remember his softer side, before the ritual. The way his heart would hurt for children and animals alike, despite his failed attempts to hide it. His soft spot for Karlach, those who were brave and brazen, always willing to do the right thing despite the risks. The kind smile he used to have, reserved for beautiful things like the sunrise, the sunset.
Gone, all of it. It was a fact that you didn't like to think about. What you both gave up, things could have been; there was no point to it anyway. It was over. You gave Astarion the choice, this is what came of that. So here you were, obsessing over your appearance in preparation for a meeting with a high-ranking devil.
How things had changed.
You had no idea if you would ever find a way to match up with the company he kept around these days. Maybe it was your own fault for surrounding yourself with otherworldly creatures, but it was hard not to feel inadequate.
It didn't help that whenever you even slightly alluded to that insecurity, Astarion was more than ready to remind you of your… "options".
"You can join us whenever you'd like my treasure," Astarion would say with a creeping grin, "Just one bite, and we can be sure you'll be mine forever. Would that be so bad?"
It was a tempting offer, one that you kept insisting on refusing. You loved Astarion more than anything. But… you wanted that love to stay your choice. An obligation you maintained of your own free will. It's not that you didn't trust him… but to be a spawn had too many implications for you to handle.
"What has you pouting sweet thing?"
You startled when hands suddenly settled on your hip, gripping through the thin fabric of your nightdress. You looked back, relaxing the slightest bit to see Astarion smiling down at you, amused at the fact he'd managed to sneak up on you through the mirror.
"You said you weren't going to do that anymore," You whined as you leaned back into him, your eyes turning back to the mirror. You could see the fabric of your slip indented under his hands, ghost-like without his actual image reflecting back.
"I lied," Astarion said simply, leaning down to breathe you in from the crook of your neck, "Now what are you thinking about pet? I can tell something's on your mind."
You bit your lip, debating for a moment if you should tell him or not. But it's not like he would let it drop, and he was way too good at being able to tell when you were lying. Might as well come clean.
You sighed, "I don't…I don't know if I'm cut out for this."
You expected him to huff at you, maybe even laugh. But instead, the grip he had on you tightened, hard enough to make you gasp. You could feel his fangs scraping against your delicate skin, scratching hard enough to cause pinpricks of blood to bead out.
"And why would you ever think a thing like that?" Astarion asked, his voice harsh and low, "Where else would you be if not by my side hm? Please, enlighten me."
You gulped, your heart rate starting to pick up. You hadn't meant it like that, "That's not what I meant-"
"Then what else could it have meant?" Astarion shot back, his hands digging into you, surely ready to leave finger-shaped bruises. Suddenly he was using that same grip to drag you backward to the bed, effortlessly settling you between his spread legs.
All while managing to still be right in sight of the mirror. You could feel your cheeks redden as his hands started to wander, unceremoniously tugging down the straps of your nightdress to reveal your chest. That was another thing about life after the ritual that had been a surprise, just how different Astarion's sex drive was. It's not like he was a prude before, far from it, but now he was insatiable. Always ready and willing to touch you whenever the urge struck him. Often enough for you to eventually come to the thrilling, if not slightly disturbed realization, that… he was training you. Training your body to always want his touch.
And tonight was no different. You could already feel yourself getting wet, and he had barely done anything yet. But then suddenly he was pinching your nipple harshly, hissing in your ear, "I expect an answer when I ask you a question darling."
You bit back a moan, trying to remember what you were even arguing about as he started to play with your breasts, "I-I didn't mean it like that. I just… I don't want to embarrass you."
It was humiliating to admit but it was true. Not many people of Astarion's caliber insisted on a singular lover. There were so many people after him now, people with more power, more beauty, and grace. You didn't match up. You couldn't.
"Nonsense," Astarion dismissed, his hands wandering down to tear off more of your clothing, "Look at you. You were made for this life. Made for me. You're gorgeous."
The compliments mixed with the harsh feeling of his hands ripping your nightdress in two was quite the experience. You could feel his own hardness pressing into your backside, twitching as he threw your ruined clothing to the side.
Then he was gripping your chin, forcing your head back up to stare into the mirror in front of you, "I said look."
You obeyed, eyes widening at what you saw. It was so strange to see yourself like this, fully exposed with your legs spread apart, flushed and panting. It nearly gave the illusion that your very image was what was causing the wetness between your legs, instead of the invisible man toying with you.
You swallowed, your throat dry as Astarion's hands wandered lower, a feather-light touch tracing up and down your slit, "You are everything. The sole reason that I'm the man I am today. There is nowhere else you should be than right here."
"But-" You gasped, your words interrupted by a sharp slap to your inner thigh. You could see your skin start to redden in the mirror, a perfect imprint left in it's wake.
"Darling, are you questioning my judgment? What on earth made you think that was a good idea?"
You frantically shook your head, moaning when his fingers delved deeper, playing with your slick folds, "I-I'm not. I didn't- I'm sorry."
You whined as he roughly pinched your clit, his other hand moving upward to do the same to your heaving chest.
He was starting to grind his hardness against you, a tease of more to come as he murmured in your ear, "There's my good girl. Was that so hard?"
You shook your head, gasping as he finally dipped his long fingers into your cunt. You were already so sensitive, humiliatingly close in a matter of minutes.
"So gorgeous," Astarion sighed, staring straight ahead to the sole image of you, whimpering as he finger-fucked your pussy, "So needy. Can you see how wet you are pet?"
You could, you were leaking around his fingers, that needy, intense feeling getting more and more intense by the moment. It was so embarrassing seeing yourself like this, enough so that you snapped your eyes shut.
A bad idea. Astarion tutted at you, landing another sudden and hard slap to your thigh, "None of that. I told you to look. Or else."
You snapped your eyes back open, watching yourself whimper and gasp as you were played with, the harsh movement of his hand jostling your breasts. You weren't going to last much longer, not with the image of you being taken apart, the feeling of him inside you, the mean edge to your love's words.
"You're such a silly little thing, aren't you?" Astarion growled, fucking you harder and faster. You were so close, but you weren't stupid enough to come without permission. Not after what he did the last time, "Doubting me. Do you really think I don't know what's best for you? What's best for us?"
"No," You whimpered, your hips arching backward to rub harder into his erection, "You're right, I-I'm yours. C-Can I come now? Please?"
"Beg me and maybe I'll think about it," Astarion meanly laughed, relishing in the gush of slick his harshness coaxed from between your legs, "Beg and apologize. Apologize for doubting us. For doubting me."
You could barely get the words out through your own gasps, tears prickling in the corner of your eyes, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I-I didn't mean it!"
"Good girl," Astarion huskily laughed, using a clever thumb to rub over your swollen clit, "Now tell me you love me."
"I love you," You said easily, meaning every word, "I love you more than anything.
"Tell me you'll never leave me. Ever."
There was something else behind that promise. An obvious implication that your fucked-out brain was too distracted to see.
"Never," You promised, reaching back for you him. You curled your fingers into his hair. pulling his head down to press his mouth against your throat. An open invitation, "I'll always be with you."
Astarion groaned against your skin, his fangs so close to piercing, "Precious pet, how could I ever want anything else? Come darling, you've earned it."
Then he was biting you, the brief flash of pain the perfect trigger for you to fall over the edge. You came with an embarrassingly high-pitched whine, slumping back into Astarion as he drank from your throat.
You looked as much of a mess as you felt, the stickiness between your thighs glistening in the light. You watched yourself, whimpering as Astarion slipped his fingers out. Just to tap them against your lips, forcing them into your mouth to suck on.
You moaned around them, light-headed as Astarion popped off of your throat. You sighed as he licked at the wound, enjoying the brief moment of rest. You weren't naive enough to think that you were done yet. Not when Astarion was still hard, his cock pulsing against you.
"See?" Astarion huskily laughed, licking the blood off of his lips while he played with your tongue, "You're perfect. Perfect and mine."
#astarion#ascended astarion#astarion x reader#astarion x tav#baldur's gate 3#asks#check the intro warnings#graphic#m/f pairing
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Right Kind of Wrong (17)
She never thought she’d be involved in a murder investigation and encounter her one-night-stand again, the awkward guy who isn’t exactly that good in bed—Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong… But as he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.
Part Summary: Spencer and Y/n try to outsmart the situation.
wc: 3.5k
Series Warnings: 18+ explicit content, graphic details of murders, mentions of suicide, mentions of SA
A/n: this took longer because trying to come up with a climax scene was SO hard, I hope I did some justice here
Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16
HER BODY ACHED. Every muscle seemed to join a protest, sending out persistent signals of pain. The cold air seemed to snake through her limbs, and the chains that bound her wrist seemed to cut into her flesh. The bed underneath didn't do much to ease things—it was as stiff as a board, offering about as much comfort as the floor.
She wasn’t sure how long she had been here. It was likely no more than a week, but it felt like months. Maybe hunger messed with her head, making everything feel fuzzy. The lack of nutrition had her feeling delirious. For someone who claimed to be in love with her, Eric showed no mercy for her well-being.
Of course, he didn't, she thought, because there was no love in the first place, no genuine care, no honest affection—just an illusion crafted by his distorted mind.
Her eyes drifted shut, and a sigh escaped her lips. The air in the barn was thick, almost suffocating, with its heavy, musty scent. It offered no peace for her tonight—or was it already early morning? The darkness seemed to stretch endlessly, blurring the line between night and dawn.
But something felt different.
The atmosphere shifted abruptly, a quiet change that quickened her heart. The unmistakable sound of a vehicle reached her ears before it abruptly stopped on the other side of the wall. A car door creaked open, accompanied by distant voices. Then came the purposeful footsteps, growing louder with each step as they approached her.
The barn door groaned in protest, creaking open slowly, letting in a thin ray of dim light. Her breath caught as Eric stepped in. Yet, it wasn't his presence that shocked her; it was the man he dragged along, someone she least expected to see.
Her eyes widened. Spencer?
He was here. He was really here, right in the flesh, making it harder for her to breathe. Because he looked worlds apart from the last time she saw him—his shirt dirty, bruises marking his face, clear signs of whatever ordeal he'd been through. It also seemed like he hadn't slept for days. His eyes appeared hollow and vacant, yet as they met hers, she noticed a glimmer of relief.
Tears welled up in her eyes. All she wanted was to run into his arms, find comfort in his embrace, and let out the tears for everything that had gone wrong. But she couldn't do anything when she was bound with chains while his hands were tied behind his back. And as glad as she was to see him, it registered her to why he was even here. Anger suddenly flared through her body as she leveled her gaze on Eric with a glare.
"What the hell are you doing?"
He pushed Spencer forward, forcing him to stumble, landing him on his knees. "A little present for you," Eric taunted. "Aren't you glad to see him?"
Spencer looked at her with concern, his eyes slowly assessing every inch of body. His stomach churned when he took in how fragile she looked. She seemed so weak, so helpless, being held captive with those repulsive chains binding her wrist.
“Are you…” he muttered, his voice barely a whisper. “Are you okay?”
It was a dumb question. Of course she was far from being fine. But he had to say it, he needed to interact with her to make sure she understood how much it pained to see her like this.
But before she could respond to him, Eric noticed the interaction and pulled out a knife. Her heart pounded in her chest as she watched him circle Spencer, the glint of the blade caught in the dim light, sending a chill through the air.
The cold steel of the knife traced sinister patterns in the air, and she couldn't tear her eyes away from the dangerous dance. "What do you want?" she demanded, her voice shaking but defiant. "Let him go. This has nothing to do with him."
Eric chuckled and shook his head. "Oh, but it does. He's hurt you, and I need to do something about it."
"Eric, please," she pleaded. "You don't need to do this."
He ignored her pleas and narrowed his eyes on Spencer. "What do you think, Dr. Reid? Should I let you go? Let you free while I'm left alone with her, doing anything that I please." Spencer glared at him and Eric's smile grew wider. "That's what I thought."
He started pacing between them again, casually playing with the knife in his hands. "You know, I usually kill my victims before I write anything on their bodies, but tonight I'm making an exception." His eyes glazed over to her. "I think it'll be fun to do the other way around."
The ominous threat hung heavy in the air, and her heart pounded wildly in her chest. Spencer's eyes flashed with defiance, though his bound hands limited his ability to physically intervene. She locked eyes with him. They both knew the odds were stacked against them.
“You don't have to do this,” she begged once more, desperation lacing her voice.
"But I do Sweetheart, I really do." He focused his attention back on Spencer. "Now, what do you reckon I should choose for you, Dr. Reid?"
Eric continued to circle, a predator reveling in the vulnerability of his prey. "What do you think of Proverbs 11:21?” He spread his hands out as if he was imagining the words were written in the sky. “'Be sure of this: The wicked will not go unpunished, but those who are righteous will go free'."
When he was met with silence, he approached Spencer with a menacing glint in his eye. "No? How about Proverbs 21:15 then? 'When justice is done, it brings joy to the righteous but terror to evildoers.'"
Spencer finally looked up and retorted, "Justice isn't about inflicting pain for the sake of satisfaction."
Eric glared back with a sadistic resolve. "The only way to cleanse the evil here is through suffering. Proverbs speaks the truth, whether you like it or not."
At that moment, Spencer's mind suddenly shifted gears, deciding to try a different approach. His narrowed eyes showed he was honing in, not just reacting but strategizing. He was about to do what he did best—understand people, especially those on the brink. Instead of just reacting to the danger, he aimed to get inside Eric's head. He wanted to observe Eric with an intensity that went beyond the immediate threat.
"You're a smart man, Eric,” he started, his tone measured and analytical. “I can see that you've been through a lot, maybe more than most. I don't think this is about justice anymore.”
He noticed Eric stopping from his casual pace around the narrowed space, and Spencer continued. “It seems like you want to reverse the roles. To be the one inflicting pain instead of receiving it."
Eric, though still wearing a facade of defiance, couldn't completely mask the flicker of unease that danced in his eyes. Spencer's words seemed to hit a nerve.
"What do you even know about my past?" He retorted, a hint of vulnerability seeping into his voice.
Spencer, maintaining his calm and analytical demeanor, continued his probing. "I don't need to know the specifics to recognize the signs. People who inflict pain are often trying to regain control over a part of their lives where they feel helpless."
Eric's grip on the knife tightened, his jaw clenching. "You're making assumptions, Dr. Reid. You don't know anything about what I've been through.”
Spencer met his gaze evenly. "I actually do, Eric," He paused, letting the words linger in the air. "Or should I call you Henry?"
The name hung in the air, a heavy silence enveloping the barn. Y/n’s eyes darted between the two men, her confusion mirrored in the furrow of her brow. Henry? His real name was Henry?
"Henry Wyatt," Spencer continued. "Troubled childhood, juvenile records. You changed your name and tried to leave the past behind."
There was a moment of silence as if Eric was weighing his next words. "I no longer associate with that name," he finally insisted, the defiance in his voice trying to mask the vulnerability that lingered beneath the surface.
"I don't think so,” Spencer remarked. “You're still him despite having a different life now. Your current action shows how you're still bound by the past."
Eric vehemently shook his head. "No."
"Your attempt to leave it behind is what brought us here."
"No," Eric shot back, frustration lacing his voice. “You’re wrong.”
"Your sense of betrayal is the root of your actions," He pressed. "Are you deeply hurt by Oliver that you seek revenge this far?"
A growl rumbled in Eric's throat, the grip on the knife tightening. "You have no right to bring that up," he spat out.
"I do, because I want you to realize that your need for revenge is a sign of weakness," Spencer continued with a calculated intensity, his words aimed at striking a nerve. "Not strength."
Eric shot a fierce glare at Spencer as his frustration reached a crescendo. "You know nothing about me. Don't pretend to understand."
"I do understand that inflicting pain won't change anything." His words hung in the air, a challenge that dared Eric to confront the truth.
The subtle tremors of Eric's clenched fists betrayed the storm within him. The knife, once held with purpose, now seemed almost precarious in his grip. Spencer's next move was strategic, pressing on despite the mounting tension. "Romans 12:21—Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good."
Eric's anger boiled over. "Stop talking."
But Spencer saw an opening and seized it. "Hurting others won't bring you the closure you seek."
"I said," Eric snarled, his patience wearing thin. "Stop. Talking."
"Ask yourself, Henry," Spencer goaded, deliberately emphasizing the name. "Is this really about justice, or is it about masking the pain you refuse to confront?"
"Fucking shut up!"
Eric's outburst reverberated through the barn as he grabbed onto the only source of lighting, an old lamp sitting on a nearby crate. He smashed it onto the floor towards Spencer, the crash of the lamp echoing like a gunshot.
Fragments of glass sprayed across the floor, some landing dangerously close to his knees as the room dimmed further, the broken lamp's feeble glow casting eerie shadows on the walls.
"You thought you could defy me?" Eric seethed, his voice low and menacing, closing the gap between them. "You're fucking wrong."
With a sudden, swift motion, Eric brought the knife dangerously close to Spencer's face. Y/n’s mind raced. She couldn't let Spencer get hurt. She had to do something, anything, to protect him.
"S-Stop!" she stammered, trying to intervene. The chains rattled as she tried to move. But Eric kept going, and she tried again with a desperate plea.
“Eric! Look at me! Please!” She begged. “I-I'll do anything!"
There was a slight halt in his steps. "What?" Eric paused.
"What are you doing?" Spencer's voice filled the air.
She glanced over to him, prepared to see the panic in his eyes. But despite the concern in his voice, he responded to her gaze with a silent plea, as if urging her to keep going.
He was onto something; she was sure of it, even if she wasn't sure of whatever plan he had in mind. She could tell by the slight shift in his demeanor before he quickly looked away. She sent him an understanding nod and redirected her attention to Eric, who was slowly turning toward her, oblivious of their interaction.
"I-I'll do anything you want," she repeated her words.
A sinister smile played on Eric's lips. "Really? Anything?" he taunted, a cruel glint in his eyes as he considered her offer.
"Yes, just—please, let him go.”
Eric's gaze shifted between her and Spencer, contemplating the power he held at that moment. "You'll do anything to save him?"
Her nod was hesitant but determined.
Eric's eyes gleamed with a malicious delight as he absorbed her desperation. "Anything, you say? That's quite a tempting offer."
"Just tell me what you want," she pressed, her voice quivering. "I'll do it, but you let him go. He doesn't need to be a part of this."
A wicked grin etched itself on his face. "Oh, it's not that simple, Sweetheart. You see, actions speak louder than words. I need a demonstration of your commitment."
Her mind raced, searching for a way to navigate through the situation. "Tell me what you want me to do," she pleaded, her eyes pleading for mercy.
He bent down and picked a shard of glass from the broken lamp scattered on the floor before throwing it to her feet.
"First, you're going to have to convince me that you're willing to endure pain for his sake." Eric gestured toward Spencer with the knife. "Hurt yourself, and maybe, maybe, I'll consider releasing him."
A chill ran down her spine as she comprehended his twisted demand. She shot a quick glance at Spencer. He met her eyes with a subtle nod, indicating that he was ready to seize the opportunity when it presented itself.
As Eric watched her, a maniacal excitement burning in his eyes, she knew she had to play along, at least for now. With trembling hands, she reached for the shard of glass, but she hesitated for a moment.
"Come on," Eric urged, the sadistic anticipation evident in his voice. "Prove your devotion."
Summoning every ounce of courage, she finally pressed the glass against her palm, wincing as it broke the skin. A suppressed gasp escaped her lips, but she fought to maintain a facade of resolve.
"Now, that's dedication," Eric mused, enjoying the spectacle of her distress. "But we're not done yet. I want more."
She fought back the nausea, the pain in her skin throbbing with each heartbeat. With a deep breath, she tightened her grip on the glass shard, her hands trembling as she looked up at Eric.
"What more do you want?" she demanded, desperation still present in her voice.
His eyes glinted with sadistic pleasure. "Cut deeper. Prove to me that you're willing to sacrifice for him."
Spencer's eyes widened in silent horror, but she shot him a reassuring glance. The shard pressed against her skin once again, but this time, she hesitated. The internal struggle was evident on her face.
"Do it!" Eric barked, reveling in his perceived triumph.
With a swift motion, she sliced the glass across her skin again, the pain intensifying. A muffled cry escaped her lips as she felt warmth seeping through her fingers.
"That's more like it," Eric praised, his eyes gleaming with madness. "Now, drop the glass."
She complied, releasing the shard to the floor with a gasp, her eyes never leaving Eric's. The room felt heavy with tension as he considered his next move.
"Now tell me you regret nothing, that you'd do it all over again for him," Eric demanded, the twisted satisfaction evident in his tone.
In a desperate attempt to stall him and buy time, she played into his game. "I regret nothing," she forced the words out, her voice steady despite the pain and fear. "I'd do anything for him."
Eric's triumphant grin faltered for a moment as if he expected her to break. But then, a cruel glint returned to his eyes. "Well, well, well. Seems like we have a devoted lover here.” A chuckle followed through. “But the night is still young."
A chilling silence took place as Eric continued to stare at her, his eyes traveling the line of blood dripping down her skin. His gaze traveled upwards to her shaking body before it settled on her pleading gaze. A sinister smile took hold of his face and she shivered at the sight.
"You know," he began, taking a step forward. "You look rather tempting covered in blood."
Her skin crawled at his words, and she fought to maintain a façade of compliance. The barn seemed to shrink around her as Eric advanced, his eyes fixated on her like a predator closing in on its prey.
"Look at you, all frightened and desperate." Eric continued, walking closer to her. "I'd say you're quite adorable now."
Every step he took sent a chill down her spine. Eric's sinister smile widened as he reveled in her discomfort. "You thought you could outsmart me, didn't you?" he sneered. "But here we are, and you're at my mercy."
In response, she swallowed her fear and shot back, "Your twisted games won't break me. I-I won't let you win."
His laughter echoed through the barn, a haunting sound that seemed to reverberate within the walls. "Oh, I'm afraid you've already lost, Sweetheart."
Her stomach dropped when she saw him unbuckling his belt with his free hand, the sound of its clinking metal echoed through the suffocating silence. Fear gripped her as Eric's intentions became painfully clear. She struggled against her restraints, her mind racing for a way out of this nightmare. "Y-You promised to let him go," she pleaded, her voice shaking.
"I said I'll consider releasing him," he corrected her. "And right now I'm considering giving him a show."
She felt a wave of nausea and revulsion. Fear clutched at her chest, threatening to overwhelm her. Every inch of her body ached, both from the physical torment and the psychological torture. The chains that bound her seemed tighter, cutting into her wrists.
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" He taunted. "You'd let me use you while he watches how good I can make you feel."
He unzipped his pants.
“How you’d be screaming my name,” he grinned. “Secretly begging for more.”
His looming figure cast a shadow over her, his attention remained fixated on her. He was too focused on her that he didn't notice Spencer's stealthy movement behind him, and just as she braced herself for the worst, the unexpected happened.
"What do you think, Spencer? Let me—"
A sudden shot echoed in the room. The deafening sound rang through the barn, causing a momentary freeze in the air. Her eyes widened, pupils dilating in shock, as she watched a dark stain spread across Eric's shirt before he crumpled to the ground.
The gunshot rang in her ears and she blinked her eyes, trying to focus her attention on her surroundings. Then Spencer took over her line of sight, sitting on the floor with one leg stretched out. The time she had bid managed to help him escape from his restraints.
Her gaze then shifted to the subtle holster snug in his sock, revealing the hidden firearm he was carrying all along. Her eyes met his, his expression a blend of exhaustion and concern, and a heavy breath escaped him as he slowly lowered the gun.
Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision. The weight of the situation hung in the air, and she couldn't find words to express the whirlwind of emotions coursing through her. The fear, the desperation, the relief—they were all tangled together. It was like a tornado had torn through, leaving her standing in the aftermath.
Spencer moved on instinct. Without saying a word, he stumbled towards her, sinking right on the mattress as he reached for her face. His hands were warm against her cold cheeks, and his eyes held a depth of regret as she stared into them.
"I'm sorry," was the first thing he said as he held her gaze. When the first cry escaped her lips, a raw and unfiltered release of the pent-up anguish, he pulled her into his arms without hesitation. Her wails echoed in the hollow space of the barn as he held her close and continued to utter his apology like a desperate prayer.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he choked, his voice sounding strained. "I'm so sorry."
Her sobs vibrated against his chest. She clung to him, her fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt, her blood staining the material. The scent of hay and the earthy musk of the barn intertwined with the warmth of his presence.
"S-Spence.." she murmured, her voice a mere whisper.
"Shh, I've got you." Spencer continued to cradle her, his lips pressed gently against the top of her head. His fingers traced soothing circles on her back. "It's over. I'm right here."
Between her cries, she managed to nod, clinging to him as if her life depended on it. And maybe it did. She wasn't sure she could function properly without his presence. So she focused solely on him—the rise and fall of his chest, the soft beating of his heart against her cheek. She shut out everything around her, not even bothering to ask how the authorities knew their location when she heard a faint siren coming from the distance.
The sound of people entering the barn didn't even faze her moments later. Or the way someone came up to them, insisting the two for a medical check. Instead, she shook her head and tightened her grip, and Spencer reassured the medics they’d come to them in a while.
Time seemed to stop at that moment as she pressed herself further into his arms. The world outside could wait, but for now, all that mattered was him.
>> NEXT PART
a/n: his escape scene is kind of a nod to that truth and dare episode, idk i felt like putting it into the plot :D
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#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x fem!reader smut#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid#spencer reid x fanfiction#spencer reid x oc#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid series#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencerreid#fanfiction#fanfic series#right kind of wrong
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In Defense of Jacks in ACFTL
I do have spoilers, so this is your warning not to venture further if you haven't finished reading.
First off, I love how the story was told and how it ended. Could we have gotten more of the other characters? Yes. Did we really need to? Maybe, but I certainly didn't mind the absence. I didn't think we needed to address every character that we've met. We saw Castor and Lala, and I was happy about it, but I was strictly here for Evajacks story, and that's what I got.
I think Eva and Jacks had character development in this novel.
Eva isn't as trusting and hopeful as she was in the previous two books, and I was happy about it! Girl was getting murder attempted on her, and her husband is a narcissistic, manipulative psychopath. The only people she could trust were 1) being kept away from her or 2) avoiding her because they thought they were doing the best thing for her if they did so *cough* jacks
Jacks watched the girl he loved die! He blamed himself for what happened to Eva, and then continued staying away because he felt guilty and thought he was keeping her safe in doing so. He didn't know Apollo took Eva's memories away. He was too busy making sure Castor didn't go within 10 feet of Eva because Castor did attack Jacks after he went back in time to save her! He was still around Eva, he was just hiding in the shadows or out in the balcony peering through the windows. He genuinely thought Apollo was the better choice for Eva because at least Apollo hadn't done anything to her (as far as he knew).
Jacks apologized to her under the phoenix tree, saying that when he went back in time, he thought the stones would have taken something from him, not Eva, or are we all ignoring that because of that beautiful love confession Eva gave? He wanted our girl to live! When Eva met Castor in the Cursed Forest, Jacks literally put a knife through his best friend's chest in fear of having a repeat of the first timeline! Castor wasn't even doing anything, he was just trying to have a conversation with her.
Jacks was the tortured lover we all knew him to be. He wasn't Jacks, Prince of Hearts, with a trail of deadly kisses in search of true love in this novel. He was Jacks of the Hollow, a man who loved his girl so much he wanted her to live instead of dying at his kiss. We all know how badly Eva wanted to kiss him, and we all know Jacks can hear her thoughts. Can we blame him for staying away? He literally said that if she died again, he could not bring her back. The idea of that was terrifying to him. He already used the stones, and going to Honora would have the possibility of turning her into a vampire, maybe worse.
Jacks felt different in this novel because he finally admitted how much he loves Eva. We've seen him do so many things for her throughout the series. Was he holding back in the other two books? I'd argue not really, but he certainly wasn't going to let her be with him. He didn't want to admit he was in love with her. Dude literally held her like a grudge in the first novel, a secret in the second novel, and then a promise in the third. The hints were there for us. He would literally do anything for her. He just didn't want to admit to himself he loved her because if he allowed himself to there was the possibility that she could die.
Does Eva die in this book? No, thank god. But don't act like you read their kiss scene and didn't fucking break a little when Jacks went "No! Not again".
#acftl#tbona#ouabh#evajacks#jacks x evangeline#stephanie garber#a curse for true love#evangeline fox#jacks prince of hearts#idk what sparked this post but here it is#do with it what you will#all i know is people were saying jacks was acting different#or maybe it was the whole novel but i'll make a post on that later too#I feel like the end just became more of a rant than anything#oh well lol
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Shovel Talk(s) Part 2
Part One 🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four
Nobody in the history of the world has ever referred to Eddie as jubilant but that was certainly the best word for him currently. Eddie has survived the apocalypse (even if barely), been proven innocent for the murders (the Upside Down exploding into Hawkins helped), and he has a boyfriend. It makes Eddie feel like he's floating.
Steve drops him off, walks him up to the porch, and gives him the sweetest kiss goodbye. Eddie doesn't go inside right away because he wants to watch Steve as he leaves and maybe blow him an exaggerated kiss as he drives away.
"Glad that boy finally did something about how pathetic you were being," Wayne says in lieu of a greeting when Eddie finally slips in the front door and into the living room, plopping himself on the other end of the sofa, dragging one of the throw pillows that came with the couch into his lap to clutch onto. Ground him, because he's still floating.
"I was not being pathetic!" Eddie is scandalized.
Wayne lets out a wistful sigh and says, in a poor imitation of Eddie's voice, "when will Steve end my suffering and notice me."
Eddie lunges across the couch with the pillow in hand, whacking Wayne with every word he speaks, while also trying to dodge Wayne trying to grab the pillow from him, "I do not sound like that!"
Wayne tricks him into thinking the pillow is his only goal and before he realizes what's happening, Wayne has him in a headlock, dragging both of them off the couch as he stands, giving Eddie the gentlest noogie of his life. "I think I know how you sound, hearin' you bellyache for the last 13 years. I've had to hear your relentless sighing and bemoaning about Steve for at least six of 'em."
Eddie beats him with the pillow more until Wayne releases the headlock and then they wrestle until his uncle fakes hurt, so Eddie backs down quickly, and Wayne steals the pillow and beats him back onto the couch until Eddie yields.
"That was dirty fighting, old man," Eddie says when he finally stops laughing enough to catch his breath.
"What was it you used to tell me, when I said you were fightin' dirty?" Wayne asks, "Scrappy."
"Oh, is that what you think you are?" Eddie swings at Wayne's knee half-heartedly. Wayne flings himself across the room and into the recliner there like Eddie shoved him. "Oh, you big baby."
"You're awfully callus about bullying your old man," Wayne chuckles and settles into the recliner, popping the leg rest out. "Now, tell me about your boy. He was a gentleman to you?"
Eddie pouts, "Unfortunately, yes. One chaste kiss and then he was off."
"Smart boy."
Eddie narrows his eyes. "What's the supposed to mean?"
"Means I scare him."
"What."
"That a question or a statement, son?" Wayne looks awfully smug over in his chair.
"What do you mean you scare him?"
"Just gave him the good ole father shovel talk. Y'know? Hurt my boy and I'll make you disappear," Wayne says.
"You terrible old man!" Eddie throws his pillow at him but Wayne bats it out of the air. "I'm going to die a virgin and it'll be your fault!"
Wayne just shrugs. "Fine by me."
"You are the worst."
-
Eddie can't make his leg stop jiggling. He feels sorry for Nancy, who is sharing the bench seat with him because he's sure that it's shaking the whole bench. He's filled with energy and doesn't know what to do with it.
Robin sits across from them, finishing up the last of her milkshake as they wait for the to go order they're going to drop off for Steve, who is stuck at Family Video for another five hours. He was supposed to be here, too, but Keith called him asking him to cover and he'd said yes. Eddie wishes he hadn't. This was Lunch Date Day.
"Are you still upset Steve took an extra shift?" Nancy asks. "Even though you know he's just going to spend the extra money on you?"
Eddie's pouting, voice whiny as he says, "I'd rather he be heeeerrrrrrrre."
"It's disgusting how in love you are," Robin says, shoving the now completely empty milkshake glass away.
Eddie's leg stops shaking because he full on freezes. "Uh."
"Are you afraid of saying the L-word? You are not subtle in showing it," Nancy says, ever the traitor, "but luckily Steve's just as smitten."
"You don't know that," Eddie says, arguing for the sake of arguing. He doesn't believe he likes Steve more than Steve likes him. He's pretty sure they're on an even playing field.
"Yeah, I do. I threatened to shoot him if he hurt you and he didn't even flinch. He'd have taken the bullet for you."
"You did what!?" Robin yelps. She's looking at Nancy like she's grown a second head.
"I didn't even bring a gun with me! Besides, Steve knows I didn't mean it," Nancy says with a wave of her hand, "it was just an obligation thing. You have to threaten your best friend's significant other. The whole conversation was like, 30 seconds tops."
"I'm your best friend!?" Eddie gasps, faking surprise. They have become good friends. She'd taken it upon herself to make sure he did get to graduate with Robin and herself, and they did form a sort of friendship from that. Also, from being the collective third wheel to Steve&Robin, which is enough to make people come together. Neither of them truly thinks of the other as their best friend, but it's fun to joke about their own Capitol with a P Platonic Friendship around Steve and Robin, as they become rather bitchy and defensive about their own friendship.
It's hilarious every time.
"Well, it's you or Argyle, and I don't think Jonathan wants to share his best friend, so...."
"Cold, Wheeler. Cold."
Nancy rolls her eyes and looks over to Robin. "Are you telling me you haven't given Eddie the shovel talk?"
Robin frowns as she thinks before her eyes widen in shock and she gasps, "I think I accidentally gave Steve a shovel talk instead."
Eddie bursts out laughing, "Robin, how the fuck did you end up accidentally giving a shovel talk to your own best friend?"
"I just told him to, like, be careful with you."
"Careful with me?" Eddie asks, a little incredulously. "What the fuck does that mean?"
Robin is going on the defensive, now. Eddie can see that in the way she squares her shoulders before saying, "it was said after your first date! Steve's had a lot of those, and you hadn't. I just- I dunno, wanted him to see the importance of that."
"So, what, you told him you'd shoot him if he hurt me, like Wheeler here?"
"No! I never said I'd hurt him for hurting you. I just said that he should be careful with you because, as your first boyfriend, if, and I did mean if, you don't work out, it's like... he's setting the precedent for how boyfriends should treat you. What you'll put with with, y'know?"
"That's sweet-" Nancy starts but Eddie's speaking over her just a quickly.
"Robin, that's stupid. I'm a fucking adult. If I'm not being treated how I want to be treated, I'll tell Steve," Eddie huffs. "You can trust that I say what I mean."
"Can I?" Robin shoots back. "Just like when you promised to get the fuck outta dodge and instead went on a suicide mission that ended very, very badly for you?"
"That was different, Buckley," Eddie hisses at her, sitting up straight to lean more across the table, trying to get in her face, "there was a lot of shit happening, and no way out that I saw. It's called trauma!"
It seems that a defensive Robin goes straight for the jugular because she hisses back, "No, actually, I think it's called survivors guilt and suicidal ideation. You know what, I should be giving you a shovel talk! 'Cause I don't fully trust you to not hurt Steve, either by lying or running once things get rough. You don't-"
"OKAY!" Nancy shouts, startling both of them into silence with one word. "We are in an, admittedly very empty, diner but still a very public diner, so let's not. Robin, you're not Steve's mom, it's not on you to look out for who is going to hurt him or-"
"You do not get to speak to me about hurting him," Robin points an accusing finger at Nancy. For all the anger she seemed to have for Eddie just now, he can see that it's almost doubled for Nancy. "I wasn't Steve's friend when you hurt him, but don't think I don't know every detail."
He knows this story, too. Had gotten it out of Steve one night, weeks ago now, when they'd been passing a joint back and forth on Eddie's bed. Before Eddie can pipe up, not that he knows what he'd say anyway, the waitress returns with the to go box and the check.
"It's my turn to pay," Nancy says, snatching the check before it touches the table, following hot on the waitress's heels to the register.
"Ugh," Robin flings herself against the back of the bench, both hands coming up to hide her face. From beneath her hiding place, she says, "I'm sorry, Eddie. What I said was unfair, and uncalled for."
"We're cool, Robin," Eddie says, "I forget how much of a buffer for our anxieties Steve is until we all hang out without him. He's able to defuse an argument before it happens."
"Oh, don't word it like that," Robin drops her hands and slides out of the booth, scooping up the to go box in the process," it makes Steve sound like the emotionally mature one."
They all climb into Nancy's car and apologies are said but Eddie feels like the next time Steve can't make it, they'll all bail on the weekly lunch. They're just a bunch of traumatized young adults and Steve is the heart of them, the person that bonds them outside the shit they went through. And maybe they should figure out a better way to deal with this than just pretending it didn't happen but- well, the world just kept moving on and they had to either move with it or get left behind.
-
It's two weeks after Eddie and Steve accidentally told the Hellfire crew they were a couple, which is why Eddie is not expecting it when Erica and Lucas corner him. He was expecting to be cornered by someone last week.
They'd been taking longer to pack up than usual, and that should have tipped Eddie off that something was up.
"Munson," Erica says in her no-nonsense voice, hands on her hips, face unamused. For sharing no biology with Steve, Eddie finds the resemblance uncanny. "I need you to understand that you might be my Dungeon Master, but Scoops Troop will always trump that, so if you fuck this up with Steve, you will have to answer to me."
Eddie gives a soft grin in response, amused, "no worries, Lady Applejack. I have no plans to fuck this up."
Erica's eyes flick to Lucas, then back to Eddie. "I mean it, Munson. I have it on good authority that sometimes you hurt people and then you don't try to right it. You just move on-"
"Erica, stop it," Lucas says, voice a little panicked.
But Erica continues, because nothing ever seems to phase her, "and Steve and Lucas are alike in that way. So just know that if you hurt Steve like you hurt Lucas-"
"Erica!"
"I will end you. I will ruin your life, Munson-"
"Erica, STOP!" Lucas finally steps forward, yanking on Erica's arm to get her to stop talking. It makes her stumble a bit before rounding on Lucas. "Stop it."
"No!" Erica glares at her brother as she removes his hand from her arm. "Go outside if you don't want to hear it."
They stare each other down and Eddie's not sure what he should be doing. Should he step in? He grew up an only child, is this normal sibling behavior? But he doesn't have to step in because Lucas huffs and storms out of the house, front door clicking softly behind him even though Eddie expected him to slam the door.
"Now, you," Erica whirls around to Eddie, "do you understand what I'm saying?"
Eddie does not. He's fairly certain he's getting a shovel talk from a twelve-year-old and while amusing, he senses there's more to it than just his relationship with Steve. "You're threatening me on Steve's behalf?"
Erica scoffs and rolls her eyes like she thinks Eddie's an idiot. He's starting to think he might be. "Yes, I am but also more. Your relationship has been the hot topic these days, and my brother brought up a good point but he's too nice to say it, so I will. When school starts, if Steve wants to take you to a basketball game, even though they fall on Hellfire night, you postpone the damn game and you go. No matter how much you hate basketball or jocks or- or... other things." She loses steam at the end, eyes flicking to the door.
"What?" Eddie is even more confused, "I don't hate basketball. And if Steve asks, I'm not going to say no, okay? I care about Steve. A lot."
Erica frowns, which contradicts the words that leave her mouth. "Good. That's good. I'd hate to ruin you, Munson."
"Is there... more to it?"
It takes Erica maybe three seconds to decide what she's going to say. Just long enough for her to look at the door, then back to Eddie. "You owe my brother an apology."
"Uh, sure, I'll apologize but for what?"
"Remember the basketball championship and the last session of the Vecna campaign that you wouldn't postpone so Lucas could play? You never apologized," Erica crosses her arms, another move reminiscent of Steve, before continuing, "You didn't apologize, and Lucas thought that it was because he's a jock, and you hate jocks. But now you're dating Steve and he's a jock. So, if you don't hate jocks, Lucas thinks you just hate him."
"What, no, I don't hate Lucas!"
"Then tell him that!" Erica glares at him, "and let this be a little lesson for you. Going forward if you hurt either of my brothers, intentionally or not, you can kiss the tires on your van goodbye."
Eddie tucks his metaphorical tail between his legs and goes outside to apologize, because Lucas deserves to hear it.
Then, once the Sinclairs are gone and Eddie's back in his room, he runs through every conversation he can remember having with Steve. Has he dismissed things Steve liked too easily, too often? Has he said anything offhandedly that could be taken the wrong way without explanation?
Eddie's was an only child and didn't have to grow up worrying about anyone but himself. He made himself an outcast and shunned the 'norm' by choice. Doing so didn't exactly let him learn the social graces of patience and understanding.
It's eye opening, to learn that a decision he made months ago without a second thought has been hurting Lucas this whole time.
Has he ever done that to Steve, and not known it?
-
Steve's been distant these past few days and no matter how many times Eddie asks, Steve's answer doesn't change. I'm fine he says. I'm fine. Just fine. It's fine.
Except nothing feels fine. And Eddie doesn't understand the sharp change. They've got a date planned for tonight. Neither of them has specifically said it out loud, because it's sappy and stupid, but it marks three full months as official boyfriends. So, they've got a date planned, but Eddie's worried how it might end.
Eddie's been floating these last three months, but he suddenly feels grounded. He can't fix whatever happened if Steve won't tell him what it was! And in the absence of actual answers, Eddie's mind has invented his own.
Steve's realized that Eddie's not good enough for him. Steve's realized that he's actually straight, but thanks for the experimentation. Steve's found someone else and is working on how to break up with Eddie without blowing up their friend group in the process.
And Eddie hates himself for thinking these things. For projecting his own insecurities onto a version of Steve that doesn't exist. Eddie's gotten to know Steve.
Or he thought he had.
But now he's pulling away. And the only person he knows he can talk to about dating Steve is Nancy and he can't do that! He can't just go to Nancy's house and ask 'so when you were dating Steve and it was all going down the drain, was he distant or is that just a me thing?'
Fuck. Fuck!
He runs his hands through his hair and regrets it as his curls tangle around the rings on his hands. He should brush his hair, be getting ready, but he's procrastinating that because he can't decide if he's going all out, making himself look his best to see if it'll bring some life back into Steve's eyes when he looks at him, or if he shouldn't try at all and see if Steve even notices he's wearing the same thing he wore yesterday.
And it's bullshit that he's even thinking about testing Steve. Not two months ago he and Robin had argued in that diner about whether he's talk to Steve about these kind of things or not and now he was kind of proving her right. Except not, because he did try to talk! Steve just didn't answer when he questioned, and you can't really build a conversation from nothing.
Fuck! He should have known this would happen. That he would fall in love and Steve wouldn't love him back because that's always been his lot in life.
Oh.
Oh no.
He's been avoiding thinking it because once it's been thought, once it's solidified in his mind, it's true. And now he's thought it!
He's in love with Steve Harrington.
And isn't it just fuckin' peachy that this realization doesn't accompany happy feelings. He's in love and can't even be happy about it because he's so fucking sure his relationship is ending tonight.
#steddie#my fic#hmmm less happy about this part but its been a goddamn STRUGGLE#i didn't want people to give eddie a shovel talk but Erica does what she wants sooo....#also had to kinda force the scene with robin eddie and nancy in the diner because i wanted nancy to explain her side#considering how many of you were so mad at her and just over here like#oh no#cause the first part was just in steves pov and he cant read minds#anyway#have this and the third part will be out soon
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Touching [K. B.]
Kaz Brekker x fem!reader
word count: 4k
summary: you and Kaz share physical contact for the first time
warnings: established relationship, trauma, PTSD, spoilers for S&B season 2, here Kaz has no romantic feelings for Inej, and I don't even know where the hell this is located in canon (just imagine that the problem at the end of the series never happened) oh and Imogen's name appears in books according to google
taglist: @rustyyyyspoonz @be-lla-vie @milkshake0 @ladespedidas
Kaz Brekker could swear that he would faint at any moment as he climbed the stairs to his room, the cane in his left hand being the only impediment for this to happen. That day he had to leave the Slat to attend to some business that was complicated by the march and resulted in a physical altercation. Fortunately he hadn't been hurt, but he couldn't say the same for the other men.
Before opening the door, he let out a tired sigh and closed his eyes for a moment, mentally reviewing the pending documents that he would surely have to review the next day, but when he entered the room, his entire train of thoughts was overwhelmed by a presence in the place.
It was you, who was sitting in his desk chair with a book in your hands, from which you looked up when you heard that he had entered. You were already wearing a faded nightgown to sleep in and your features showed tiredness, but also calm.
"Hi," you said straightening up. Kaz felt your mere presence light up the entire room and his shoulders relaxed as you spoke.
"Hello" he replied with a hint of a smile. Without saying anything he went ahead until he reached the bed and you followed him with your eyes, turning in the chair to face him.
“Is it okay if I stay here? I'm sorry I didn't ask you before”
"It’s okay" he replied quietly.
It had been a couple of months since you and Kaz had decided… how shall I put it? Try to have a relationship. You had always been firm in the idea of conquering Kaz Brekker, even with his bad reputation and his difficult nature, since you joined the crows, a few years ago. He never understood why you did it, even feeling suffocated by your attentions, but over time (and after a lot of effort) he began to feel affection for you and eventually he came as close as he could feel to love. He began to care for you, to enjoy your company, and to feel nervous whenever he looked at you, which Nina helped him interpret as a crush.
You trusted that, despite his short temper, Kaz had a good heart and he had shown that more than once. You had never received mistreatment from him (beyond his typical responses towards others), he defended all the members of your group tooth and nail and he was firm in his ideals. Yes, of course he was a criminal, a gambler, and sometimes a murderer, but you knew that he was neither the only nor the worst in The Barrel. Besides, his motives were valid… most of the time.
So it was that a few months ago, during a drunken night, you two confessed your feelings. You were too cheerful to think about what you were saying and it was inevitable that the words slipped out of your mouth like water from a river. Kaz wasn't drunk enough to stop understanding what you were saying and you have a vague recollection that he just put you to sleep and didn't say anything. But hours later, when Jesper had personally taken it upon himself to push the black-haired man to his drinking limits, he burst into your room and only told you that he liked you too. Of course, in the morning the hangover was accompanied by guilt and when you sought him out to apologize, you were surprised that he hadn't felt offended and hadn't taken back his words either. You concluded that maybe the alcohol had given both of you the courage you needed and that was okay.
For a few days the matter remained like this, but then Kaz made an appointment with you in his office and steeling himself with courage, he told you about his interest in having something with you, but warning you that, considering all his characteristics, he was possibly not the best option and what should you look for someone better if you wanted it that way. But you wanted to try things and even more so if he had been the one who proposed it.
You were patient the whole time and gave Kaz the space he needed. Sometimes you just spent time in his office, in silence, and watching him work was satisfying enough. Little by little he allowed you to enter more spaces of his daily life and although you had kept the relationship private, suspicions arose one morning when you left his room and Nina, probably the gossipiest of your friends, saw you.
A couple of times you had held his hand over his gloves and once you had kissed his cheek, only because he was too asleep to notice. It was slow progress, but you could live with it.
Now you were trying to sleep together. You'd obviously replaced Kaz’s thin mattress with a larger one and figured out a way to make it work; between him and you, you placed a line of pillows so that you avoided physical contact. Simple but effective.
"How was it?"
“It could have been better”
"You should rest" you suggested, analyzing how bad he had been after the fight that he surely had. There were no visible bumps or scratches, thankfully.
"Yeah, I will" he replied very vaguely. You saw him look up a little at you and you wondered what he was looking for "What were you reading?"
“Huh, a book that Jesper won in a bet. It is the story of a warrior princess who has to defend her kingdom”
"Sounds nice" he exclaimed. There was the beginning of a smile gracing his face and you didn't think he was aware of it, but he'd been doing it for the past couple of weeks every time you talked to him about something. Every time you spoke, simply.
"It is," you said happily. Kaz had already made a mental note about your fascination with literature, and at the next heist he planned to keep a couple of books for you, if the opportunity arose.
You wanted to continue talking to him, but the truth was that you were only waiting for him to arrive to sleep and you were sure that, although he wouldn’t admit it, Kaz needed rest as much as you did. That's why you got up from the chair and before he said anything else you sat on the bed, next to him.
"I'm tired" you murmured, making a tiny pout and watching him with tender eyes. He was very handsome, you thought of that whenever you saw him.
"Lie back, while I organize some things"
"Come on, Kaz" you complained, b because you knew these activities could last hours and he deprived himself of sleep to finish them "Tomorrow you can do it, sleep with me" you insisted, stretching out your hand until you reached his. He was wearing the gloves and your fingers slipped under his, only taking the tips around your hand.
Both of your gazes landed there, you wondering what it would feel like to hold Kaz’s hand without the leather in between and him admiring the difference in size between your hands and his. You had them damaged around the nails and the skin marked with a few moles, but for him they were perfect. When you started to move your thumb from side to side he looked up, noticing that his eyelids were already weighing you down, and he sighed. For some time now he hasn't been able to say no to anything you ask of him, much less when you look so delicate and hold his hand.
"Okay, go to sleep then"
You suppressed a smile, without much success, and watched him remove several layers of clothing to only be left with his shirt and pants. You had never seen him naked, and you doubted very much that you would soon, but you liked the lightness that appeared in him when he was left with few clothes. As if by taking them off he was also abandoning all the problems that he accumulated during the day.
You carefully slid to your side of the bed, against the wall, and made sure the pillow divider was in place. He kept you company moments after turning off the lamp.
"Good night," you said kindly. Whenever you stayed there you wanted to tell him that you loved him before going to bed, but the intention never materialized. The first few times Kaz was very tense and hardly slept, although by this point he had gotten used to it and he was handling it well; even he would say that he rested more knowing that you kept him company.
"Sweet dreams," he said, with a gentle tone that took you by surprise. You were internally grateful that the room was dark or he would have seen your flushed face.
It didn't take long for you to give up, but Kaz, no matter how hard he tried, couldn't fall asleep. Although having you by his side had relaxed him a lot, for a couple of days there was a matter interrupting his thoughts and it was related to the dreams that had come to replace his habitual nightmares.
In all of them you were the protagonist and he... touched you. In every possible way and every sense of the word, as if it were something natural that didn’t take any effort. At first he was terrified of how real the dreams felt, almost swearing that the night before he had passionately kissed you only to realize that you were still on the other side of that fence of pillows you had placed for his comfort. Kaz had wanted to ignore all of this, but each time these thoughts became more frequent and stronger: What would it feel like to hug you? And accommodate your hair? Would he be able to caress you as he knew you wanted and deserved?
The black-haired man could be evil at times and he seemed unaffected by anything, but the insecurities and fears inside him were bigger than anyone could imagine. Even the day you confessed to him that you liked him, he feared that you were lying or that it was just drunken incoherence.
So now that a few months had passed he felt he had to offer you at least some physical contact or else you'd end up getting bored of him like Imogen once had. But that was another story.
Kaz was startled when he heard you complain and looked silently in your direction, but it turned out that you weren't awake, you had only changed position. From that angle he could see the whole silhouette of your body and part of your face, even more peaceful when you were asleep, everything so beautiful that he wondered how you could be real and especially because you were sharing a room with a person like him.
His hands didn't have gloves on and even though they had been at his sides the whole time, he felt the urge to move them away. He wondered what it would feel like to touch your skin or if he would actually be able to do it without panicking and as the desire was greater than the fear, without giving it much thought he reached out his arm towards you, preparing to touch your bare forearm. He breathed once, then twice, and finally, he did.
He had to remind himself that your skin wasn’t that of some wet corpse and for this he concentrated on how it really felt; it was warm and soft. His hand trembled on your body and he feared to wake you, but even with this he didn't move away. He didn't know how long it was before he was able to breathe normally, but once he did he waved his hand a couple of times and if you had been awake you would have been amazed at the gentleness with which he did it.
Kaz pulled away a few seconds later, seized with the sudden strange feeling that he couldn't leave him so easily, and with an angry huff he jumped up to wash his hands. He wanted to change and improve for you, but it was complicated and it frustrated him.
Either way, he was thankful that you hadn't seen his experiment and concluded that it was better, so he could move at his own pace. When he lay down again he kept looking at you, taking the opportunity to reflect on the matter, until his body couldn't take it anymore and the unconsciousness of the dream ended up consuming him completely.
And of course, he dreamed of you again.
The days passed as normal and life at The Barrel continued as usual. The crow club was in full swing after the renovations Kaz had done, almost a year ago now, and there was more work than ever. Jesper and Wylan always went everywhere together and the girls at The Menagerie were great with attention, but it still seemed like it was never enough. Nina and Matthias weren't very active members and Inej's visits weren't as frequent now that she led a life at sea. You were in charge of supervising several of the things, on behalf of your boyfriend, and sometimes you also served drinks. The club had gone from being the favorite place for seedy drunkards to a refined place where more and more people came to gamble and have fun. Of course more visits meant more money and you knew that made the owner happy, but it also loaded him with work.
"Knock, knock," you said happily, as you peeked out of his office door, tray in hand. Kaz raised his head from the papers with the accounts he was reviewing and met you "I brought you dinner"
"Dinner?"
“Yes, it is one of the three meals of the day. It's important and you always forget about it" you explained, placing a plate in front of him that contained some cookies, and bread and leaving a cup of coffee without sugar next to it "I didn't know what you might be craving, so I brought something light"
“Thank you,” he said as he watched you drop into an adjoining chair, your own mug of hot chocolate in hand.
"How is everything going?"
"Okay, I'm still missing a couple of things"
"Do you want me to go?"
"No" he replied. How could you think of that? Of course he wanted you there.
During these weeks you had noticed Kaz a little strange, as if he was suddenly more condescending or permissive with you, but you enjoyed these changes. You couldn't know it, but he had been running little experiments like the one he did when you were sleeping. When you were interrupting the path he needed to travel, he would move you to the side at the waist, when you sat next to each other at crow meetings, he would link his knee to yours, and you caught him picking some rubbish out of your hair more than once. So you, too, had begun looking for more intimate ways to engage with him, like taking him out to dinner after a tiring day, curious as to how far he would let you go.
You made small talk about trivial matters and took the opportunity to make sure he consumed some of what you brought him, which he did with pleasure.
When you finished Kaz went back to his work and you decided that it was better to occupy yourself with something else, preferably quietly so as not to interrupt him. Your visits to his study were almost always like this, so you already had some things for your entertainment in a drawer. You pulled out a puzzle that you and Inej used to put together all the time and spread it out on the floor, sitting in a lotus position in front of it, willing to be at it for a while.
But on that particular day he couldn't focus on anything but you. Out of the corner of his eye, he would catch a glimpse of your attentive frown and your hands tapping the floor impatiently for not finding the right pieces, finding both quite adorable.
All day he had been seriously thinking about making a risky move and now that the opportunity presented itself he felt more nervous than he had imagined, so he kept silent for a long time where you didn't even notice the crisis internal he was having.
"Kiss me"
The words were spoken so quietly and hastily that you feared you had hallucinated them and your neck might have snapped from the quickness with which you looked up at him.
"Did you say something?"
"Kiss me" he repeated, loud and clear so that this time there would be no doubt of what he was saying. You felt that your heart was going to jump out of your chest due to the astonishment that such a sudden request produced in you. Kaz was asking you for a kiss? Impossible.
You were stunned for a few seconds, looking directly into those sky-colored eyes that were waiting for an answer. What kind of kiss was he asking you? It was like a kiss on his cheek or… on his lips perhaps? Why was he asking you that in the first place? And why had he thrown it at you just like that?
"If you don't want to, that's fine," he added, with a disappointed tone, and you jumped to your feet as soon as you heard that.
"No, no. I was just... surprised, that's all" you explained, completely nervous, because you didn't want him to regret it.
You walked up to face him and the height difference forced Kaz to look down at you with doe eyes you never imagined he could have and didn't even know he was aware of. He felt slightly intimidated, more by the situation itself than by you, and one of his hands went directly to hold the wood of the chair to try to calm down.
You took a deep breath and looked closely at the black-haired man's face, thinking about which part of his face would be more suitable for kissing; the skin on his cheeks? His forehead? Or go once and for all for those thin pink lips?
When you crouched down he held his breath and you saw him tense when you got closer to his face, but you still continued because you knew he would mark the limit, if there was one. You closed your eyes and finally closed the distance, pressing your lips against his for just a second. Your stomach turned and when you straightened up your cheeks were flushed crimson, but it worried you that Kaz hadn't flinched. You would even say that he seemed to be angry.
"Give me a proper kiss"
You felt your legs shake and you thought you were going to faint right there after hearing him. He wasn't even asking, he was demanding it. Kaz was practically yelling at you that he was going to settle for the simple lip brush you just gave him, he wanted more.
You were a mess at the thought of him wanting to take such a big step, but you tried your best to hold it back and nodded softly at him. A proper kiss would require more than just you standing in front of him, so you sat on Kaz’s lap, who nearly squealed in surprise.
"If you want to stop, just say so" you warned him. But you had already gone too far, he didn't want to stop and of course you didn't either.
Your feet dangled over the side of the chair and you made yourself more comfortable resting your hands on his clothed shoulders, hoping that with that separation of cloth Kaz would feel less uncomfortable, until your face was right in front of his.
There was so much fear in his eyes that you wanted to walk away, but you knew that with that you would spoil all the effort he was making and you feared that he would be offended to the point of not wanting to kiss you anymore.
You would be lying when you said that you didn’t want it, that you didn’t long for to finally be able to know what his kisses would taste like and thus be able to alleviate the knot in your stomach that you had since that party night when you confessed your love, so without more or less you leaned a little and then you kissed him.
At first it was a mere assumption, but when you felt how tense he was you knew that he had never kissed anyone in his life. You could feel his panic through the trembling sighs that escaped him, but you didn't give up for a second from your task.
"Relax your lips" you said, separating yourself enough centimeters to be able to articulate the words "And the shoulders too" you continued, stroking that section with both hands to help it a little "Just focus on how it feels"
Your whispers sounded like spells to him as if they were instructions to follow to achieve the happiness he so wanted and didn't know how to obtain.
You tried again and since he followed your advice the contact was more fluid. Suddenly all negative feelings were replaced by the pleasure of savoring your lips, still with the flavor of the impregnated chocolate, and of feeling your warm body so close to his. There were no traumatic memories because he had never kissed anyone before Jordie’s death, nor since. It was something new, different, and it was also unique because it was you who was there.
He began to pay more attention to details and enjoyed the way your lips caught one of his, so subtly that he could barely identify it, or how your hands had already gone up to his neck to hold it. Kaz’s gloved hands moved almost by themselves to your waist and it was your turn to hold your breath, probably under the impression that he had done something like that.
You cut off the kiss, but then another followed, and when that one ended another came. Suddenly everyone was down to you and Kaz having a little make-out session in his office, a moment he never wanted to end. Maybe it was the sensation of trying something forbidden, but you felt that the man's kisses had the most intoxicating flavor on the entire planet, as if everything you had ever enjoyed was nothing compared to that. And he couldn't do anything more than practically melt under your caresses and let you do whatever you wanted with him.
For some reason Kaz was finally overwhelmed by the contact, but instead of throwing you out of there he pulled you away with his grip on your waist, calm and gentle.
"It’s enough" he whispered. It wasn't because he wasn't enjoying it, but because he knew better than anyone that you couldn't give yourself completely to life’s pleasures or they would end up consuming you from the roots.
He didn't want to open his eyes for fear that it was all another one of those dreams and also to somehow extend the sensation as much as possible, but you didn't want to do anything but look at him. He was breathing heavily and the usual paleness of his skin had been replaced by a vermilion hue and to your surprise his hands hadn't left the position they were in, which you took as a sign that he still wanted you sitting on his legs.
“Are… are you okay?” you asked cautiously, knowing that closed eyes and heavy breathing were also symptoms of a panic attack that you definitely didn't want to happen.
"No” you barely had time to worry and think about what you could do before you heard a soft laugh. Kaz Brekker was laughing “Oh my gosh of course I'm not okay. You're driving me completely crazy” he responded and managed to make the phrase sound like a claim and a compliment at the same time.
"Was it that bad?"
"It was perfect. You are” he confessed and you exhaled a nervous laugh, feeling as foolish as a girl in love. Both of your hands were planted on his chest, so you started to play with a button on his shirt to try to calm your emotions.
“I'm glad you… huh, that we could share this. I really wanted to kiss you” you dared to tell him.
Although he was apparently calm, the truth was that he was having a hard time not separating from you, but the only reason he hadn't was because of the loving and happy expression that was on your face, which probably, to a lesser extent, he also had.
"Me too" he assured you, with that little smile you had already begun to love.
And that kiss represented the beginning of a path that Kaz was willing to walk, as difficult as it was, only for the promise that at the end of the day it would all be worth it if you were the one waiting for him.
#kaz brekker#kaz brekker x reader#the crows#six of crows#jesper fahey#inej gafha#wylan van eck#nina zenik#mathias helvar#shadow and bone#shadow and bone netflix#kaz brekker x you#kaz brekker fanfic#kaz brekker imagine
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Hello i saw you were taking requests and i want to ask if you could do Alejandro and König being jealous because Graves is flirting with there s/o and she's clearly uncomfortable with it but they gets jealous anyway and decides to make sure she knows who she belongs to.
Only if you're up for it.
Have a good day :)
Summary: How Alejandro and König would react to Graves hitting on you and becoming jealous as a result.
Genre: Imagines, request(s)
Characters featured: Alejandro, König.
Warnings: suggestive situations, spanking, and mention(s) of jealousy
A/N: So, at first, I nearly made this a poly scenario but rewrote it because I was almost certain that isn’t what you were asking for lol. I hope this suffices, and I apologize for the delay on my end OTL ( Gif credit: xxx )
"C'mon now, girl."
Graves stepped in front of you, blocking your path as well as preventing you from leaving the conversation. Staring down at you with a shit-eating grin on his face.
"Let's say after all this bullshit is said and done, you let me take you out dinner. What do you say?
While you didn't let it show on your face, the thought of going on a date with Graves was off putting to say the least. He was too cocky in all the wrong ways -- and there was something else off about him you couldn't quite pin-point yet, but that underlying suspicion was there, always prickling away at the back of your mind. Maybe it was you were just being paranoid, but still. When it came down to it, you didn't find yourself drawn to him in any sort of way.
You still had to work with the man though, so instead of being honest with him, you offered him a practiced smile. One perfected over years of awkward interactions just like this one.
"As nice as that sounds, I'm afraid I'll have to decline."
"Yeah? And why's that, sweetheart?"
Figures he was the type that didn't know when to back down...
At that point, you'd crossed your arms over your chest. Physically attempting to close yourself off from him even further. You hesitated in coming up with an answer to that question. It wasn't exactly like you could confess you were in a relationship with a Colonel.
"I'm already in a committed relationship, sorry, Graves."
Why the fuck were you apologizing to him?
Alejandro―
As you were busy trying to anticipate Graves' reaction, you hadn't noticed that Alejandro had seen the entire interaction between the two of you. Especially noting the way you tensed up when speaking to Phillip.
Even though he knew better than to storm over and cause a scene -- he felt the urge rising within him regardless. He wanted to walk over there and ask him what the fuck he was doing to you that had you so uncomfortable.
Somehow, he'd managed to hold off just long enough for the interaction between the two of you to come to an end. Whatever you'd said to the Shadow Company CEO had sent him off with his tail between his legs.
Good.
He couldn't help but curse to himself in Spanish as he watched Graves leave the rec room. Once he was gone though, he didn't waste any more time in heading over to you. Silently gesturing for the two of you to have a private conversation elsewhere.
Shortly after the two of you had some privacy, Alejandro was stepping closer to you, looking you over with concern. "Are you okay?" He asks.
You nod. "Yeah, yeah." Offering him a small smile, you shrug a single shoulder. "He asked me if I was interested in going out with him. Mentioned something about knowing where to find him if I was ever interested in going out with a "real man"." You answered him, exaggerating Graves' words by giving air quotations with your fingers.
"Pinche cabrón." Alejandro could feel his jaw tense while he grit his teeth. Looking off to the side with a murderous glare. The fucking nerve he had to say such a thing to you!
Oh, if he ever had a chance to get his hands on that gringo...
Once his anger subsides, jealously takes its place. He knows he has nothing to worry about with your relationship. It's stable and healthy enough to the point he doesn't feel worried in the slightest that you'd cheat on him. However, knowing that Graves is so interested in you to the point he'd made a move, that had him feeling so conflicted.
Part of him knew it would be better than to let it go altogether and not worry about it for a moment longer. But, despite his intelligence and trust, Alejandro was still a man. He felt things that he probably shouldn't at times, and mostly knew how to deal with it.
This time... wasn't going to be one of those. He could feel it in his bones. Knew himself better than to just expect himself to forgive and forget Graves. He figured if he couldn't settle things physically like his instincts wanted to, he'd do the next best thing.
Staking his claim on you.
Sure, he knew he couldn't outright stake his claim on you and declare you as his own -- both out of respect of you as a person with your own feelings and independence, but also due to the trouble the two of you could get it in. That wasn't going to stop him from trying another way.
Glancing around to make sure the two of you were alone, he reached out and wrapped an arm around your waist. Leading you off to a corner of the hallway you two were in.
"Alejandro, what are you--"
You couldn't even finish your sentence before he was caging you in with his larger body. Leaning down so he could capture your lips with his own in a searing kiss that lasted only moments before he was pulling away. Already beginning a steady decline down to your throat with his lips, giving fleeting pecks and nips of his teeth wherever he could reach.
When he found a particular spot he enjoyed, he'd pause and seal his lips around the skin there. Sucking and biting at it over and over until he was satisfied with the marking that'd bloomed as a result.
Regardless of the sounds you made or how hard you clung and pulled on him, Alejandro didn't stop until he felt you had enough marks on you. Dark hickeys littering your throat all the way from your clavicle to just below your jawline.
"Apologies, mi amor." Alejandro smirked. "Let's just say I needed to make sure that bastard knew you were spoken for."
König―
The moment König saw Phillip Graves walk up to you, he was thankful for the fact that he preferred to obscure his face with his facial covering. He could feel his expression twisting with confusion and anger as he watched the other man clearly approach you with romantic intent. König might have spent most of his social life crippled thanks to his social anxiety, but even he could tell the intent behind men's interactions. Or, at least men similar to Graves anyway.
Fingers tightening at his side for a brief moment, he'd stand at his full height, appearing as menacing as ever as he tried to focus on the clipboard in front of him. Though, he found it nearly impossible thanks to the current interaction between you and Graves.
König wasn't a foolish man. He knew better than to let him emotions get the better of him and have his personal insecurities convince him of anything but the truth. You were kind, faithful, and honest with him in your relationship together. He knew you wouldn't throw yourself at Graves' feet simply because he paid you special attention.
Even so, it seemed despite all of his reasoning and rationality, he found a spark of jealously blooming within him. Burning right at the center of his chest so much he felt it difficult to breathe. Still, regardless of how he felt at the moment, he didn't storm over. The Colonel knew better than to make such a scene over something so juvenile as you being flirted with. Also, it'd probably lead to the two of you having to suffer the consequences of many other things given that - despite you not being apart of his own sector - he still technically was your superior.
König tried to focus his attention back on his paper but found it hard to do so when he caught the American eyeing you like his next meal. Discharge and other consequences be damned. The large Austrian man wanted nothing more than to show the smaller man a piece of his mind. Still, he refrained from giving in and storming over. Instead, he somehow managed to hold himself together until the American left. Seemingly with his tail between his legs from the looks of things.
Not even bothering to finish the forms on his clipboard, König tucked it beneath his arm before walking over towards you.
"Can I have a word with you in my office, please?"
After the two of you were behind closed doors and away from prying eyes, König wasted no time in striding over to you. Surprisingly quickly for someone of his stature but you didn't flinch or back away. Instead, you merely smiled up at him far too sweetly than someone like him ever deserved, he thought.
"Did I do something wrong, Colonel?" You questioned in a soft voice.
"Of course not, maus. And please, use my name for now. Not my title..." Since the two of you began a serious relationship, he couldn't stand when you had to refer to him as anything other than his name. Preferring the way it rolled off your tongue far more than whatever else you could address him as.
Staring down at your smaller form, König suddenly found himself at a loss for words. Many conflicting emotions began to overwhelm him as he debated on what to do now.
"Are you alright?" He asked, concern showing within his bright eyes. "What did he... say to you?" König questioned, a little unsure of how to deal with the predicament.
"Oh," You scoffed and waved you hand in a nonchalant gesture. "He asked if I'd like to go out with him but I declined his offer." You explained.
"Ah, I see." He nodded his head in acknowledgement but truthfully, he wasn't focusing much on your words. Instead, all he could think about was how jealous he felt that the he dared to even approach you in the first place. Sure, the two of you couldn't exactly be very open in the public about your relationship together, but that didn't mean he was just going roll over either.
In fact, he couldn't help but feel a little shameful as his mind went over numerous ideas and scenarios of how things could play out. Imagining many, many ways of which he could show that fool you were already spoken for.
It wasn't often he felt as worked up as he did emotionally, but now that he was, he wanted to do something about it.
"Maybe I need to refresh your memory..." König commented, his demeanor shifting to a stricter one as he straightened his posture, standing at his full height in front of you. Hell, he even decided to lean forward a bit just to loom over your tiny form even further than usual. Taking great pleasure in noticing the way you'd shrink in on yourself a bit from his intimidating leering.
"You're mine and mine alone. Do you understand, liebling?" Reaching out, he gripped your chin between his thumb and fingers so he could tilt your head up, coaxing you to look at him in the process.
Glancing off to the side, König would release your chin and then turn to walk away from you. Heading over to his desk so he could clear the top of it of. After the majority of it was clear, he'd gesture towards it with a nudge of his head. "Over the desk, now."
As tempting as it was to talk back to him, you remained silent and instead nodded in agreement before walking over towards his desk. Bending over the top of it with your chest and stomach pressing down against the top of it. Folding your arms beneath your head, you turned to look over at him. Daring to wiggle your backside at him just to be a tease. Silently, König moved to stand behind you so he could tug down your pants and underwear. Now gazing down at your form with a hungry gleam in his eyes.
Without warning, he lashed out and swatted your right ass cheek. Repeating the action again on the same cheek before delivering a swift and stinging strike to the other shortly after. Internally delighting in the way your skin flushed beneath his hand after each smack. The soft gasps and hisses you released were music to his ears...
"Next time he tries to make a move on you, you won't be able to think of anything else but me and how sore I'm going to make your ass soon enough."
#alejandro vargas#könig x reader#konig x reader#call of duty x reader#cod imagines#imagines#requests#anonymous#opened mail#my writing
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Hii was wondering if you’d do Tommy w/ daddy kink + sex on his desk. Also I’ve been binge reading your fics! Great work <3!
Ask and you shall receive.
VERY EXCITED TO WRITE THIS ONEEEE!!!
Look What You Made Me Do || Thomas Shelby x Reader
warnings: SMUT!!! DubCon, Dark!Tommy, unprotected P in V, mentions of being sexually harassed (not by Tommy), catcalling, possessiveness, degradation, depictions of violence and murder, blood and graphic language describing it, using a gun during sex, slapping, daddy kink, dacryphilia, sort of fluffy at the end, adult content!!!
18+ Minors DNI
Walking back from the markets, you hadn't planned on ending up like this. Running down a dark alley way, trying to get away from a man much taller and stronger than you are. Trying to get away from a man who had yelled "Oi! Let me rip that pretty dress off of that tight little body!"
You had tried to keep walking when you heard it, hoping maybe it wasn't directed at you or you somehow misheard him. Unfortunately, the man kept harassing you, kept getting closer and closer as you kept your head down and picked up your pace. Then his hand brushed your shoulder and you immediately bolted.
You knew you should've agreed to let Tommy come with you.
He was gaining on you fast and oh the irony, you trip and fall, skidding across the damp rough gravel, skinning your hands and knees and bruising the rest of your body, you were sure. You let out a mewl as you felt him grab a hold of your ankle and pull you towards him, further dirtying you and your dress, squeezing your eyes shut, knowing this was the end of the line for you. There was no way you'd be able to fight off this monster. You had accepted your fate.
"Now what do ya think yer doin'?" Tommy's voice. At the other end of the alley way. You felt some sort of relief wash over you. "Get your fuckin' hands off my woman."
"Or what?" He boldly spoke back to Thomas Shelby, he had let go of your ankle now, turning to look up at Tommy only to look down the barrel of his gun. "O-Oh...!" What an idiot. "Sorry... mate... only messin' round... tha's all...." His hands were up in the air as Tommy walked him towards a wall. You watched the encounter, wondering if Tommy was really gonna shoot him.
"That's alright, I forgive you." Tommy said sarcastically and smiled coldly before bang, the man dropped dead with a hole in his head. Blood splattered across Tommy's face and clothes, brains coating the ground. You had sat up by now, staring at the dead body in front of you, wide eyed and heart pounding. "Stupid girl." Tommy grabbed you by your wrist, yanking you up onto your feet and pulling you along behind him like a bad dog. "What the hell were ya thinking, hmmm?" You held your head low with embarrassment, relieved Tommy was here to save you but also frightened from what just happened, frightened of what was to come. Disturbed from seeing the lifeless look in the dead man's eyes and the blood pouring out of him like he was a leaky faucet. "Look at what you've made me fuckin' do." Tommy scoffed as you turned a corner, approaching closer to your house. He was covered in scarlet, blood dripping off his nose and chin.
"T-Tommy... he was going to-"
"I know what he was gonna do, keep quiet, girl, I didn't say you could speak." Tommy barked, he shoved you into the house, you tripped a bit over your step, wincing at your aching knees from your rough fall. You looked over to Tommy with watery eyes and a trembling lip. "Oh don't look at me like that, you know what would happen to ya if you went out dressed like that, love." He grumbled as he unbuckled his belt, setting his cap to the side and approaching you slowly with a dark angry look in his eyes. You knew fully what was about to happen.
"I'm sorry..." An abrupt slap to your wet face made you shut up. A small sob and then Tommy dragging you into his study, pressing his lips possessively over yours. You cried into the kiss.
"Such a dumb little girl, you are..." Tommy pushed you down over the desk, your ass perched up in the air for him. "Apologize to daddy... apologize for what you made him do to that man."
"I'm so... sorry... daddy!" You cried, tears slipping down your face. Your cheek laid against the cold desk. "I'm really sorry... I didn't... I didn't mean to..." You didn't even know what exactly you were apologizing for but you needed Tommy to forgive you, needed his love and care, you were still startled over what had happened to you. You needed some sort of consoling.
"I know you're sorry," He grunted, you heard him slipping his coat off and pulling his gun out from where it was hidden, placing the thing right besides your head as he pulled down his trousers. "That's why I'm gonna use you however I please until I can find a way to forgive you..."
You just whimpered, feeling him push your dress up to your hips. You felt embarrassed of the underwear you were wearing. A thin lace thong barely covering your quivering pussy, Tommy laughed condescendingly before placing a hard spank on your ass.
"What a fucking whore," He stroked his cock a few times before ripping your pathetic panties off of you, the ripping pulling at your skin uncomfortably. "Fuckin' desperate to be fucked, aren't ya? Did you enjoy being chased down by that man? Did it give you a thrill?" He asked rhetorically.
You were wet enough for him to slip into you but the stretch still alarmed you, wasn't as easy as it usually was. Your tears streamed down your face as he fully pressed into you, cock deep inside your guts, face hurting from how you were pressed up against the desk.
"Daddy...." You sobbed as he began to fuck in and out of you. "Daddy... please... I'm so sorry... so sorry for making you do that!"
Tommy let you have another slap to your ass, pleased with the way it bounced back and the red hand mark left on it. "Fuck..." He hummed with pleasure, fucking his cock into you, hips snapping against your ass. "Such a dumb woman but at least you've got a tight little pussy for me to fill." You gasped at the feeling of the cold metal pressing against your temple, Tommy was holding his pistol right against your fucking head. You trembled with fear. Never once had he done something like this before.
"Tommy... please!" You cried and then immediately regretted what you just said as he pressed the gun even further into your skull, turning off the safety. "Fuck... daddy... I'm so sorry! I'm so unbelievably sorry... daddy! I'll do anything!" You corrected yourself.
Tommy smirked at your pleading, thrusting into you even harder while steadily holding the gun to your head. He was getting off on your sobbing, cock throbbing at how pretty you looked, bent over his desk and crying for him, you looked so beautiful to him. He knew you were getting off on this too, could feel the way your cunt gripped onto him, he could feel the way you gushed around him, getting off on the. feeling of his gun pressed to your pretty little head. "Y'gonna beg to cum f'me, do you understand?"
"Y-Yes!" Nodding desperately.
"Yes what?"
"Yes... daddy!" You cried, squeezing your eyes shut at the feeling of the cold gun on your head. You didn't think Tommy would actually shoot you but you couldn't be sure. Tommy had never been this rough with you before.
"That's right, I'm your daddy..." Tommy moaned lowly, his other hand was pressed firmly against your lower back, causing you to arch your ass into him even further. "Tell me who you belong to."
"You! Daddy, I belong to you," You were starting to wriggle underneath him without really meaning to, the pleasure and the pain becoming all too much. "Your property... 'm yours."
Tommy hummed, pleased with your answer and placed the gun back down on the desk. You felt like you could finally breathe again, whining as he held both of your hips in his hands now. Fucking into you at a vigorous pace, you could feel yourself begin to come undone.
"All mine," Tommy was moaning louder now, moaning a bit more pathetically, you could feel that he was close too. "Gonna fuckin' cum... gonna cum in ya, love."
A spank on your ass. It was time.
"Please... please let me cum... daddy!" You begged, you were so close to falling over the edge, you feared your punishment if you came without permission. "Need to cum... please... pretty please... daddy...!"
"Hmm... I don't know if that's good enough, don't know if you even deserve to cum at all."
"Please... please daddy!" You cried harder, arching your back and wiggling your ass against him. You heard a loud grunt from him as he stilled his hips in you, spraying his seed within you.
"Go on, cum f'me." He managed to get out, still spilling into you himself. You came hard, a crying mess, pussy throbbing around him causing Tommy to fill you even further, cum dripping out of your pulsing sex and onto your sticky thighs.
"Oh daddy..." You sobbed, shaking with pleasure. "I-I love you!"
Tommy pulled out of you slowly, watching the way his semen slowly leaked out of your abused hole. He gathered it on the tip of his fingers before tapping at your lips, opening obediently and licking his digits clean. You hummed with satisfaction at the taste of his sweet cum.
"You did good, love," Tommy said as he fully slid out of his trousers and undid your dress fully. "Let's get you a bath." He carried you bridle style out of his study, not caring that you were both completely nude, didn't care if anyone saw as he walked you into the bathroom.
You were quiet as he sat you both down into the hot bath that eased your aching joints. You cried into his chest, still coming down from everything that happened. Steam filled the bathroom and Tommy stoked your hair gently, placing soft kisses along your scalp.
"I'm... I'm sorry Tommy... I really am."
"It's okay, darling," He kissed your forehead as you looked up at him with those big sad eyes. His heart breaking at the sight. "It's not your fault."
That's all you needed to know that Tommy was never really mad at you in the first place. You helped wash the blood that was still spattered across his face and neck.
"Gun was empty by the way," Tommy chuckled, stroking your cheek. "Would never shoot you, my girl, rather rip out my own heart than have you killed."
You smiled softly, kissing his lips. "It was hot, I enjoyed it." You said reassuringly.
"I love you so much," Tommy whispered. "Would kill anyone for you."
-
#cillian murphy#cillian murphy smut#cillian murphy x reader#cillian x reader#peaky blinders#thomas shelby#tommy shelby#cillian murphy fanfic#cillian x fem!reader#peaky blinders x reader#tommy shelby x reader#peaky blinders fanfic#tommy shelby imagine#peaky blinders imagine#tommy shelby fanfic#tommy shelby smut#thomas shelby x y/n#thomas shelby smut#peaky blinders fanfiction#thomas shelby x reader#peaky blinder imagine#peaky fookin blinders#cillian murphy imagine
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