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losersiren · 7 days

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𝓨𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓛𝓸𝓻𝓭

"𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝑜𝒽, 𝒾𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓂𝑒 𝓈𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝒶 𝓅𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝓊𝓇𝑒.” CW: Fem reader (she/her), possessiveness, suggestive Note: This is my first time writing something like this and posting it...go easy on me o(>< )o

The chandlers decorated the ceiling above the spacious ballroom, giving a gentle glow to the people filling said ballroom. The social season has just started to blossom, giving men and women room to court each other if one is blessed with the opportunity for such an experience. Catching the eye of a reliable suitor is quite troublesome– most of the men here do not fit any of your requirements, and if they did, they would suddenly be caught in a scandal of sorts, causing them to be an outcast. Not a good look on you or your family name.

You idly toy with the fan in your hand, your gaze sweeping over the sea of faces in the room. The task at hand feels insurmountable, and finding a suitable suitor in this town is daunting. Perhaps, you muse, debuting late was a misstep, a decision that now seems to mock you. You could always become a spinster…and ruin your reputation and lineage because you choose such an idiotic choice… regrettably it may be the easier option.

“Pray tell why you’re glued to this corner as if you’re some wallflower,” A witty baritone voice whispers in your ear, the hairs of your neck standing upright while a cold shiver runs down your spine.

The sense of familiarity washes over you, and the resentment still lingers from years ago makes its way forward. The Earl’s son, your childhood close friend, who left you without a word after he said he’d be there for you.

What a bastard

“Have you ever heard of personal space? Or have you forgotten the amount of lectures your mother ingrained into your head on etiquette when you were just a brat?” You bite back with venom coating every word you spit out. You place your fan on your left ear.

”Ah, I see.” He steps back and gives you space. “You’ve become cold-hearted towards me since my departure overseas. I was only gone for a mere moment.” He switches his position from behind you to in front of you. He takes up your whole vision, his maturity, more evident now since the last time you saw him as a juvenile boy. It's been a few years, hasn't it? Yet he still has his teasing nature; no boarding school or amount of lectures can take that away from him. He bows a little lower than he should, his right hand to the opposite shoulder and his left arm behind his back. He looks up at you with those oh-so-regretful grey eyes. “I wholeheartedly apologize for departing overseas in such an impulsive matter without even notifying you in any way. I should’ve sent you letters and a hoard of messenger doves to accompany you”. “But I did not, and for that, my Lady, I've made a significant sin in your eyes– I do not deserve your forgiveness, but oh, if you could grant me such a pleasure.”

His voice is as quiet and soft as a starving mouse stealing food from a kitchen, careful for only your ears to pick up his pleas for forgiveness. Just as though you were a goddess punishing him, which he should be reprimanded tenfold in his eyes, who was he to abandon you without a trace? Though the situation before was entirely out of his hands, he didn’t want to go to that goddamned private school that was away from you; he fought tooth and nail not to go. Every house servant had to push and hold him down because he kept fighting; even his family members were victims of his wrath. His father, The Earl, still has fading scars from that night years ago.

He should’ve fought harder for you.

People around you start noticing; who wouldn’t? One of the most prestigious Earls of this country’s only son is bowing dishonourably low, borderline grovelling like a peasant caught stealing a measly loaf of bread. You feel eyes turning onto you, women whispering between their fans to one another, wondering in what predicament the next-in-line Earl would be for him to be embarrassingly bowing to a one-of-a-mill daughter of a viscount—a rank lower than him and a woman at that; your fan placement is not making it look better. Immediately change the position of your fan from your left ear to twirling it in your left hand, hoping he understands the situation he has put not only him but you in.

He only smiles in return. “Stand straight; You look like a fool.” You hiss, “Do I have your forgiveness, Darling?” a scoff escapes your mouth. “That is either here or there! Be proper. Others are watching.” That doesnt deter him, nor does he care about them. “So my apology wasn't sufficient? Since you are thinking about everyone else but me.” More eyes make their way onto the pair of you, and whispers grow with the exchange of gossip. “You’re acting like a child-” He cuts you off. “Shall I go on my knees for you? I mean, I wouldn’t mind, but preferably, I would love to be in a more…secluded environment.” A smirk graces his lips at the thought. “Or shall I kiss your feet-”

“You are a soon-to-be- Earl! Has that school taught you nothing? God, you’ve become more insufferable, I swear.” Your face feels warmer now, and embarrassment takes over you from his childish yet sincere teasing.

The young lord’s eyes fixated on you, on your lips, how your dress accentuates your already perfect self, your hands, oh, how he wishes to feel them against his. The years it's been since he saw you, he could listen to you scold him for hours on end; it doesn’t matter what you are saying. Just hearing your voice is enough. God knows it's been too long since he’s been deprived of you. He thanks his past self for sabotaging whatever male decided to even think of courting you. Though he was far away, his social standing never changed.

The lord decided by the second month he was away from you to pay his old servants to send him as much information as possible on the vermins that would try to nestle their way into your life. He would…No, he has ruined anyone who wanted to get in between you two. And he’ll keep it that way. You’ve stolen his heart since meeting him as a lad.

“So you wish for me to kneel? As you wish.” He starts to kneel; gasps can be heard. But you stop him, holding his shoulders upright; his eyes widen as you touch him.

You’re so close

“I forgive you…I forgive you…”

“I forgive you, Ambrose…”

Oh…

His name on your tongue….

His mind blanks. Has he gone to heaven? Oh, you sweet angel, you have him wrapped around your finger. And he wouldn’t want it any other way.

His smile is blinding as he stands and looks down at you.

“Then now that's settled…May I have the honour of a dance with yours truly?”

.." Or shall I beg more?"

End Notes: Fun fact (not really): I based most of this post on The Regency era, and that includes fan language! That is why I described the readers' actions with it. Placing the fan on your left ear means "I wish to get rid of you." Twirling the fan with your left hand means "We are watched." Thought that would be something fun to add (^.^)

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reidmotif · 8 months

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"Technically" Not A Student

Summary: Reader is Alex Blake’s TA, and after a guest lecture, Spencer seems to take a liking to her .

Prompt:You’re Alex Blake’s TA when a Dr. Reid comes to guest lecture. Things get heated quickly when you're alone.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: Reader POV, guestlecturer!Spencer , age gap (roughly 10 years), car sex, heavy making out, unprotected sex, slight female masturbation, Spencer is smart and that's HOT, heavy sexual tension

Word Count: 5.1k

Being asked to be Alex Blake’s TA was the opportunity of a lifetime, and when it was presented to me as a first-year graduate student at Georgetown, I took it eagerly and never looked back.

She had personally approached me after I’d finished a semester in her forensic linguistics class as a freshman, and commended me on my dedication to the material and my general work ethic, and then inquired if I’d ever consider filling out an application as her teaching assistant starting the next semester.

I immediately agreed. It was a no-brainer. Blake was a seasoned professional in the career field I wished to enter, not to mention she’d been one of the best professors I’d had whilst taking classes at Georgetown. Knowing I’d be working so closely with her absolutely thrilled me. It provided opportunities I'd have never gotten otherwise.

For example, getting to sit in on the class the famed Spencer Reid would be lecturing on.

She usually kept me quite busy, having me develop assignments and quizzes for her class when she had other responsibilities to attend to. I’d heard horror stories from other TA’s in which their supervisors would delegate ninety-nine percent of the work to their juniors, having them essentially teach the class for minimal recognition or pay. Blake wasn’t like that, and I was thankful. This time around though, she had very different instructions for me.

“You don’t need to prepare any material this time around.” Blake explained to me, and I nodded, listening diligently. “I’d just like you to sit in, and possibly take notes, as you see fit.” She added, and I flashed a polite smile, nodding.

“No problem whatsoever. I’ll sit in the back so as to not bother any students as I do.” I replied, offering her as much convenience as I could within my actions.

Secretly, I did want to catch more than a glimpse from the back of the room. I wanted to experience the esteemed colleague Blake had often spoken of with incredible fondness. I was aware he was slightly older than I was, and a bit socially inept from the way she described him in his stories, but I was also aware the man was a goddamn genius. She’d describe in precision the way Reid would pick up on patterns and leads faster than anyone else on the team, and his immense knowledge in multiple fields beyond criminal profiling. When she’d told me he had three pHDs, I had to hold back a gasp. I hadn’t even started my own doctorate, but the idea only exhausted me- and he had three?! Color me impressed.

Blake, being as brilliant as she did, could sense the hidden enthusiasm in my eyes in meeting this man.

“Honestly, I’d rather you sit in the front. If you’re taking notes for any student unable to attend, it’s more imperative that you know the contents of the lecture, rather than anyone else.” She said, smiling kindly.

“That’s absolutely alright with me.” I say, even quicker than before, nodding, thoughtfully. In reality, the only thing I was thinking about was how close I’d be near the man. I had no idea what he looked like, what he sounded like, but something about him made my stomach flutter.

“I’m sure Dr. Reid would be interested in meeting you, as well. He takes special interest in anyone pursuing our line of work.” Blake added. She didn’t mean for it to happen, but the words made my cheeks light up with a hint of embarrassment.

I don’t know why, but he intimidated the hell out of me. The idea of him taking interest in a conversation with me made my heart beat slightly faster, and I nodded. I tried to convince myself that my nerves came from a purely professional standpoint, but regardless of my intentions, I was absolutely exhilarated by our imminent meeting.

While I knew there'd be initial awkwardness when I'd meet him, given my idolization of the man, I didn’t account for how terrible it’d actually be when I realized how fucking attractive he was. It was almost unfair. I was already tripping over the words I planned on saying in my head, and now he looked like that?

It was cruel.

The soft, doe eyes paired with sharp cheekbones. The slope of his nose, and the mess of brown curls atop his head. Every word out of his mouth was made even prettier by the soft curve and pinkness of his lips, and I found myself wanting to lunge over the table and kiss the hell out of him.

Needless to say, not the right thoughts to have about your professor’s (older) coworker.

While I was initially going to introduce myself to Dr. Reid before his lecture, hopefully establishing myself as a serious individual regarding my studies and eventual career, I shied away, opting for Blake to introduce me instead, nodding politely when he made eye contact with me, exchanging a quiet “hello” and taking my seat in the front.

That was it. And probably how it should be, considering I genuinely couldn’t think straight around him. Students began filtering in, and I took my spot at the front of the room, crossing my legs and beginning to outline his lecture as he began to speak.

He was a brilliant lecturer, and it was honestly criminal he didn’t do this for a living. He gesticulated wildly throughout the whole of it, but every word of his was punctuated with a genuine passion that even some of the best professors on campus lacked. I did my best to diligently keep up with every point he brought up, but with how fast he spoke, it was difficult. Still, an effort was made.

If that wasn’t enough to deal with, I swear the man kept making eye contact with me for the duration of his lecture. At first I believed I was imagining it, that his eyes kept drifting to mine by coincidence, but by the third time, I’d realized that everytime my eyes left his figure to scribble something, I’d look up to see his dark eyes boring into my soul, almost as if he was trying to solve me with a glance. It was intense and made my stomach turn in a way which wasn’t entirely unpleasurable, but I forced myself to remain professional.

Blake did not need to see me absolutely lusting after her coworker, even if he was utterly fit.

Anyway, he was probably only making eye contact considering I was in the front, and probably in an optimal spot for his eyes to focus on whilst addressing the whole of the class. Still, the way his gaze was trained on mine, reaching the deepest parts of my soul didn’t help the growing heat between my legs.

I forced myself to focus on the board, my notes, anything but those godforsaken eyes for the rest of the lecture. Anytime we made eye contact afterwards, I’d quickly look down, like I’d been caught doing something terrible.

Was anyone else seeing this? Was I insane and made delusional by my unexpected attraction to this man? Was he seriously making me wet just by looking at me?

Yes.

Sooner than anyone wanted, the lecture period had completed and Dr. Reid was finishing up. The students were absolutely enamored, especially the girls, as expected. Of course it wouldn’t be just me who’d noticed that in addition to being accomplished in his intelligence, he was also ridiculously easy on the eyes.

Blake stood in the corner, watching her students vacate the space, while some held back to talk to Dr. Reid as he packed his things. He seemed a bit shy at all the attention, but didn’t hesitate in explaining concepts to seemingly eager students, giving them all a soft, shy smile.

God help me, he was adorable. How was I falling for a man I’d never even spoken a word to?

I’d never left the classroom before Blake did, so as she stayed, I did as well, until the three of us were the only ones left in the room. Blake smiled, walking up to Dr. Reid with her hands in her pocket.

“You worked up quite the fanbase, Reid.” Blake said, a little playful.

Reid replied somewhat bashfully. “You have a great bunch of students.” He flashed a small smile at her as they spoke, still packing up his things.

The dynamic between my superior and the man was obviously sweet. They almost looked familial, which made sense. Blake had commented here and there that she managed to spend more time with the BAU with her actual family. I’m sure the latter was the same for Spencer. He probably had a doting girlfriend at home, ready to welcome him in her arms and I mentally kicked myself again for being so attracted to him.

He was nearly ten years older, for god’s sake! Enough! I screamed at myself.

I was brought out quite suddenly from my thoughts when Blake spoke in my direction. “This is (Y/N), my teaching assistant.” Reid came in my direction as I got up and approached him, offering a hand to me. “I’m Dr. Spencer Reid. Blake told me who you were, but we weren’t properly introduced.”

I gave a firm shake to his hand, which I noticed was calloused and smooth at the same time. God, even his hands were pretty. He had long, slender fingers with short-kept nails. They were veiny, and looked strong. I couldn’t help but imagine what they’d feel like inside of me, buried in the heat of my core as I begged him for more.. more..

I forced the thought out of my head, only nodding again at the handsome man. “Nice to meet you, Dr. Reid.” I say, forcing myself to be professional.

Stop thinking about fucking him!

“Spencer works just fine.” He says, imparting a kind smile that nearly made my knees weak. Did he have any idea the embarrassing effect he was having on me?

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Blake looking at the two of us with a bit of a strange expression on her face. I let go of his hand and took a step back. Oh god. Could she tell? If she could, she said nothing. She gave us both a kind smile, before grabbing her own things.

“(Y/N)?” She called out, starting to walk to the door. “Mind locking up for me tonight?” She said, already throwing her keys to me.

“That’s fine by me.” I say, grabbing her keys mid-air. I was used to this. Blake often wanted to leave a bit quicker than I did, and I was more than happy to assist in any way possible. What I didn’t realize, was that this left me and Spencer in the room alone, something I wanted to avoid, considering how fucking awkward this man was rendering me with so much as a glance at me.

I heard Blake leave, and as she quietly closed the door behind her, I leaned against a desk, keeping my eyes down as Spencer continued to pack his own things. I tried to not let my gaze drift to him, as I waited for him to finish up.

I let my thoughts wander to the lecture, and couldn’t shake the feeling he’d evoked in me when he looked at me like that. This was honestly ridiculous. The man had barely spoken ten words to me, and here I was, absolutely mooning over him. It was a new low for me, but in my defense being a graduate student meant I didn’t have much time to get my .. needs fulfilled.

“That’s why” I convinced myself. I just hadn’t gotten laid in a really long time. Nothing more, nothing less.

“So, you’re a criminology student?” Spencer says, suddenly, breaking me out of my trance.

I looked up, nodding. I responded on pure habit and instinct. ‘Yes, I’m in the process of getting my Masters in Criminology.” I said, nearly robotic.

“That must be interesting.” Spencer replied, flashing me a sweet smile that caused an entirely new slew of butterflies to erupt in my stomach. “I never studied criminology specifically, but the classes I took interested me.”

“Blake told me you had three pHDs.” I acknowledged, trying to return his smile, but in all honesty, I probably looked like an idiot. I was nervous as hell, and hoped he couldn’t tell. It wasn’t my fault. He was awe-causing. A sight to behold, if you will, in intelligence and appearance.

He laughed good naturedly, “Yeah. Three.” He must’ve noticed the stars in my eyes, because he continues. “As well as a Bachelor of Arts in Psychology and Sociology. And I’m working on another in Philosophy.” He finishes with a smug, boyish type of smile.

What was previously stars in my eyes, was now full blown shock all over my face. “Wow, Spencer.” I said, a little dumb-struck. “That’s.. a lot.” I add, a little stupidly, giving him a little laugh.

He sweetly scratched his neck, revealing his self-consciousness. “Yeah? You think?” He says, a small smirk in his voice, and I laughed again. “You think I should stop after Philosophy?”

“Totally. Save some knowledge for us.” I teased. It was comfortable. He was surprisingly easy to get used to. He was affable, despite how daunting his knowledge was.

“Hey, you try graduating before you’re a teenager.” He defends himself, playfully. “Not much to do, really.”

I laugh. “I don’t know.” I say, throwing my hands up a little. “Play ball? Run around?” I joke, and he makes a face at that, scrunching up his nose.

“Not my thing.” He replies, smoothly, and I laugh.

“Alright, fine. Keep your degrees doctor man.” And he laughs at my joke. Like, a real laugh. I didn’t even find my own rhetoric particularly humorous, but knowing that I’d gotten him to react like that made my cheeks glow.

He finished packing the last of his things and slung his satchel bag over himself, starting to walk over to the door. I made sure to gather all my things, and walked to the door with him. He held it open for me, and I nodded my head in thanks, and he let it shut behind us. I turned around to lock it, using Blake’s keys and placing them in my bag securely, before looking at him.

“Well, Spencer. It was nice meeting you, thank you for the lecture it was-” I start, but he interrupts me.

“Can I walk you to your car?” He interjected, looking a little shy as he did. I smiled a little confusedly, wondering why he’d want to do so, but I gave him my answer, nonetheless.

“I don’t have a car. I usually take the bus back to my apartment.” I explained, smiling softly.

“The bus?” He says, quirking his mouth to the side. “Isn’t it a bit late for that?” He replies, a hint of concern in his voice.

I gave a little sigh, “I mean, it’s fine.” I say, trying to laugh a little. “I’ve done it before.” I add, attempting to ease the worry out of his voice. “It’s not that late.” I say, but he simply shakes his head.

“No way.” He says, still adamant on this. “I.. I can drive you home, if you’d like?” He says, his words going slightly on the higher pitch as he rolled out his proposal, and I gave a small grin at that.

“Really? If it’s a hassle I can seriously just take the bus. I wouldn’t want you to keep anyone waiting at home or-”

He interjects again. “No hassle. I promise. I want to.” He pauses, before adding, “No one at home. You’re probably going to be the last person I see today.” He seems to blush at his final admission, and my eyes widen in interest. No girlfriend? Score.

“Alright, Spencer.” I say, smiling again. “Lead the way.”

He led me to his car, an old-fashioned Volvo and I couldn’t help myself from gawking at it.

“God, you have a cool car too? Is there anything about you that isn’t interesting?” I say, aware I was probably stroking his ego a bit, but honestly I wanted to. The man was just so damn intriguing, and every new bit of information I learned about him only made me want to unravel the whole of him. To truly know him, in and out.

He laughed, using his keys to manually unlock the door. “Oh, trust me. I’m plenty boring. The car is probably my only saving grace.” He joked, and I laughed again as I got into the car.

“Oh, I highly doubt that, but if you say so.” I say, sweetly, and adding a light tone of flirtatiousness in my tone. He seems to blush at this again, and I begin to think about the events of day. The stares in class, the perpetual rosy tint on his cheeks that had been there since we began our conversation, the way he joked and laughed at my (admittedly, unfunny) jokes.

Oh god. Did he like me?

Only one way to find out.

As Spencer got in the car and began driving onto the main road, I looked at him, trying to put on my best, innocent smile. “So, you said you’re not going home to anyone?” I say, a softness to my tone, but an undeniable hunger in it as well.

“Uh.” He responds, that damned blush coming on, strong. “Yes.” He replies, nodding as he keeps his eyes on the road.

“So, you don’t have a girlfriend?” I ask, a bit forwardly.

Now he’s really blushing, stuttering a bit. “Oh, no. No girlfriend. Not much time, given the BAU and our schedule.” He said, almost clinically, and I nodded.

“I mean, Blake has a husband.” I point out, a little smugly.

“I guess.” He says, sighing a bit. “But, you know.” He says. He vaguely gestures to himself, and I look at him a little confused, tilting my head at him.

“Spencer, I have no idea what you’re trying to say.” I say, with a little giggle. “But trust me, you’re absolutely gorgeous.” I continue, before I can stop myself.

He looks at me, giving me a soft smirk, and a raise of his eyebrows. He didn’t look uncomfortable, and honestly looked just as thrilled as I did, and I knew that this night had a good chance of going the way I wanted it too.

“Ah, you’re sweet.” Spencer replies, “But no. I just mean, I’m.. me. You know?” He says, trying to explain his (non-existent) shortcomings, but I just shake my head.

“You don’t give yourself much credit, you know?” I attempt to say with that amorous tone from before, but it was more overcome with genuine respect and admiration. “You’re smart, funny and nice to be around, I mean.” I pause. “Did you not see the absolute crowd of girls around you after the lecture? Trust me, Spencer. I bet you’re more than easy to be with, even easier to like.” The words rush out of me, and I watch him tentatively for his reaction to my words.

Instead of the sweet side smile he’d been offering me all night, he finally looked at me. The car had come to a stop at a red light, and his face was dangerously sexy as it was illuminated by the colored glow around us.

“And what do you think?” Spencer says, in a low tone, making direct eye contact with me.

I feel my stomach turn at the sudden directness in his words, his gaze nearly devouring me whole. I felt my mouth go dry and I swallow, trying to keep my tone steady.

“What do you mean?” I ask, my voice having a slight shake to it.

“I mean, what do you think about me? Do you.. like me?” He says, licking his lips slightly, and the action causes the previous heat between my legs to come by in full force.

“Oh, I mean.” I say, my previous confidence dissipating in an instant. “Well, yes, Dr. Reid. Everyone liked you today.” I say, trying to give more of a conservative answer now.

The man had a way of making me feel totally comfortable around him, and then flipping the switches, rendering me dumb and stuttering. Like I was now.

“Oh, so I’m Doctor Reid now.” He says, clicking his tongue and saying the words with an air of lighthearted teasing, but I only bit my lip, hurriedly trying to explain myself.

“I mean, it's your title.” I say, quickly, trying to justify myself. “I mean, you said it yourself- three pHDs. It’d be pretty shitty to just discard the years taken to achieve that. Um. Well. You’re a genius so probably not as long, but still! Calling you doctor is a sign of respect for your accomplishments and-”

“You're cute.” He interrupts, and I look back at him to see his eyes back on the road, a cocky smile plastered on his face.

The light around us turned green, and he started the car. I picked at my nails slightly, trying not to display any more signs of nervousness around him. I wanted to do something with him, at least, and that couldn't happen if I was a bumbling mess.

We drove in relative silence for the next few minutes, as I tried to gather my thoughts and possibly continue what we’d been building up to these past few hours, but a quick glance at the windows and the road we were on caused me to furrow my brows.

“Oh, this isn’t the way to my apartment.” I remark absentmindedly, looking at the window beside me, then in front. “I live near the train station, off east?” I offer, expecting him to fully make a turn back towards the direction I’d prompted him towards, but he didn’t even flinch, continuing on the more secluded road we’d entered.

“I know.” He said, glancing at me once more, actually applying more pressure to the gas pedal, causing us to go faster down the terrain.

Okay, fuck. He was an FBI agent, so I didn’t have to worry about him murdering me, right? Wait, no, that’s stupid. He could probably get away with it. No! He’s Blake’s friend. Her coworker. For the goddamn FBI. He wouldn’t murder me. What the fuck was going on?

I watched as Spencer pulled off to the side of the road, darkness surrounding us entirely. There weren't any other cars around, and it was silent in the car before I bit my lip, and started to speak.

“Did I.. offend you?” I ask, cautiously. No reply. I try again. “Why did we stop?” I add, trying to test the waters with him to see what he was thinking at that moment.

“I thought I could wait before we got to your place, but I need to know now.” He replied, a sudden urgency in his voice. He turned towards me, watching me with a dark, intense gaze, similar to the one he'd given me in class that day. “Do you want me? Am I reading this wrong with you? Because if I am, we can completely forget it and I can drop you home but (Y/N)..” He paused. He made direct eye contact with me and once again I found myself wanting to swim in those dark eyes of his. “I want you.” He said, his voice low and raspy.

I didn't give it much thought as I gave into my urges and surged towards his lips the best I could in the car. He responded immediately, bringing me closer with his hands and placing them on either side of my face, moving his lips against mine in a perfected rhythm. I used my fingers to quickly undo my belt, before climbing over the console to sit in his lap, getting closer without our lips disconnected once. He understood my actions and intentions immediately, pulling the seat back so I could rest more comfortably in his lap as we continued to kiss.

I knotted my hands in his hair, giving an experimental tug which elicited a low moan from his mouth. I grinned against his lips and his hands moved from my face to his hips, bringing my clothed core to rest right against his growing bulge, which I immediately moved against. He let out a sharp breath as I did and broke the kiss.

“Oh god. I’m sorry.” He said, breathlessly, hands on my hips. “I don’t know what came over me and-”

He looked almost frantic, and incredibly guilty, so I quickly leaned in for a peck, stopping him mid sentence. I brought my hands to his shoulders to rub them soothingly, and he seemed to relax in my touch.

“Spencer, calm down.” I say, nearly purring. “I want this.” I continue, rubbing patterns into his arms now. “Please.”

“You’re Blake’s student.” He murmurs, using one of his hands to run through already messy brown curls. “What am I doing?” He says, almost to himself, looking ready to stop our tryst.

I realize he was attempting to backtrack from this, and before he could continue his train of thought, I quickly leaned in from my position on his lap to start kissing his neck, trailing wet hot kisses down the column before whispering. “I’m not her student.”

He pulls away to look at me, biting his lip. “What?”

“I was her student last semester. I’m her teaching assistant now.” I smirk a little, licking my lips. “Technically not a student of hers.”

He seemed to take in my words for a moment, and then something in him shifted, and he lunged at me again, kissing me with even more ferocity. He absolutely devoured me, his hands everywhere at this point. Caressing my sides, in my hair, on the small of my back. He brought me closer to him in any way he could, pressing our bodies against each other in a frenzied manner that caused the wetness between my legs to increase tenfold.

“Wanted you.. as soon as I saw you.” He murmurs against my lips as we caught our breath in between kisses. “Knew it was wrong but..”

I nodded. I understood. I was the same.

“Fuck.” I moaned, as I felt the bulge resting below me get even harder. “Spencer, please. Don’t make me wait.”

“Impatient.” He remarked, smirking, now beginning his own line of kisses down my neck, making me moan in pleasure.

“Please.” I breathed out, my words being reduced to a squeak as he bit my neck gently, and my eyes fluttered shut. I was melting right in his damn hands, just like he wanted.

His hands started to work at the buttons on my jeans, and I sighed in relief, lifting up my hips to allow them to be tugged off, leaving me in my underwear. His slender fingers traced the seam, leaving me shuddering with pleasure for the man in front of me. I tried once more, breathlessly murmuring at him.

“Please. Please.”

“Use your words, baby.” He whispered, a devilish smirk on his face. I was too far-gone to care about what I looked like. I needed him so badly.

“I need you to fuck me, now.” I say, clearer. “I need it, Spencer.”

Something about me using his name, nearly moaning for the man when he’d barely touched me stirred something in him, and he started to undo his own slacks, freeing his cock from the confines of his briefs. I watched in fascination as it sprung out, and took in a sharp breath of air. I licked my lips before making eye contact with him, begging for us to get on with it at this point. He nodded, understanding my desperation and I smiled dumbly, beginning to lift my hips. He guided his cock to my heat and placed his free hand on the small of my back, slowly guiding me down his member.

I moaned softly as I felt him enter me, providing me with the most delicious stretch. I threw my head back in pleasure as he brought both his hands to my hips urging me down.

“That’s it. God, fuck. You feel so good.” He moaned, which only made me want to take more of him. I lowered myself down a bit faster, and he released a heavy groan as his hips met mine. I whimpered slightly, his length filling me up perfectly. A thin sheen of sweat had gathered on my brow and I leaned my forehead, adjusting to his size.

“You good?” He breathed out, using his hand to brush a piece of hair that had stuck itself on my brow, and I nodded.

“Yeah, just.” I took a deep breath, before licking my lips, looking up before nodding.

I slowly lifted myself off, letting the head of his arousal nestle in me before I slammed back down, eliciting moans from both of us. He began to match my movements in tandem, thrusting up into me wildly. I held onto his shoulders, burying myself in his neck as we went faster. I could feel his tip hitting my cervix every time, causing me to cry out with pleasure every single time.

I felt my orgasm rapidly approach, and Spencer seemed to sense this as well, considering the involuntary clenches I was giving around his cock. He let his hand slip down to where our bodies met and rubbed tight, fast circles around my clit, encouraging my release.

“Come on, pretty girl. Come all over my cock. You can do it.” He breathed out, watching my every move with a hunger I'd never experienced before.

It took a few more thrusts from him, combined with the insistent fingers at my bundle of nerves before my thighs began shaking, and I let out a chorus of moans, most of them sounding like strangled versions of his name as I coated his cock in my wetness, spurring him on to go faster inside me, bucking into me like a man possessed.

He continued to jut into me wildly, until I felt him finish inside me, coating my walls with his release. He breathed shakily, holding me close to him as I slumped over his shoulder, my chest heaving up and down as I came down from the intensity of the previous moment.

He affectionately removed me from his shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to my lips, the tenderness and gentleness in his actions contrary to what we had just done. I pulled back with a dazed smile, taking in how pretty he looked.

“If it’s alright, I’d love to take you out for coffee sometime.” He said, still a bit breathless, and a shy smile appeared on his face.

I giggled. He was literally still inside me, and was asking me out on a date with a boyish nervousness that made him even harder to resist.

“For you Dr Reid? Anything.”

ahh! writing this was a beast, and i imagined it to be longer but i got what i wanted in less words haha. i hope you guys liked this. any reblogs, comments, likes are so so appreciated i know it sounds totally stupid, but your guys' support means a lot lot lot!! thank you!!! <3

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #smut #spencer reid prompt #writing prompt

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exopelagic · 6 months

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I shouldn’t have to do ANYTHING ever again I’m done with doing things I’m retiring

#AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA #I got one of my two presentations (the important one) to a standard where I can present it.#I just. now have to write a whole other one by Thursday 2pm #I finished the presentation at like 4pm today and I was like oh cool!! I’m done early!!#so I went to the shop and walked home before it got too dark out thinking I could start early on cooking and do some work tonight and sleep #and proceed to spend THREE HOURS making ticking STIR FRY #it was a good fucking stir fry I’ve never had so many compliments on how my cooking smells #it didn’t taste That great but food you make yourself never does :/#this was meant to be quick meal. I didn’t even have all the normal ingredients like my broccoli went slimy #anyway! am done doing things now no more things I’m done no more things #I was out from like 9:30-4:30 today mostly working and shopping and goddamn #also god mr fucking GUY comes in right before the lecture and sits behind me AGAIN even though today was empty #and I had to hear him talking non stop for 2 hours bc it was kinda a coding class thing #i didn’t turn around much bc he was. right there. but when he was moving around in the break and before leaving he was once again looking.#and I can’t tell if he’s trying to catch my eye or not but he made no fucking effort to talk to me despite being sat Right There this time #so like??? what the fuck am I meant to do with that???#I don’t have time to make a point of talking to him about This Bullshit so this is just Happening for the foreseeable future huh #god the thing is if I DO try talk to him abt wtf man I wouldn’t put it past him to just blatantly lie abt it #what no I’m not looking at you #subtly make out that I’m making things up or I’m not over him #maybe this is being uncharitable again but goddamnit dude what’s UP with you #I’m kinda scared that I AM making things up but. it’s happened kinda a Lot and I know that things are still weird between us #I might ask my friends to keep an eye out just to verify I’m not actually losing my mind #anyway!!! fuck you mr guy I don’t have time for this <3 #I gotta work on presentation 2: electric boogaloo #this time with waaaaaaay more mushrooms #or not I guess bc I don’t think mycorrhizal fungi make mushrooms? t potentially no mushrooms but significantly more fun guys #also obligatory fuck you also to Sinclair et al (2023) you’re so annoying #we all know nitrogen use efficiency is important but maybe other things exist too <3 #luke.txt

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kiaxet · 8 months

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HOW ABOUT THAT @somerandomdudelmao DISASTER TWIN REUNION, HUH

Went a little feral to the tune of 2.2K words of self-indulgence. What else is new?

~~~~~~~

Donnie can't sleep. More accurately, he won't sleep. Not until he's done. He'd never been one to leave a project unfinished; death and resurrection hadn't changed that.

He taps incessantly, repetitively, on a keyboard and screen, the motions long since past inputting data and now only serving to keep him awake. The repetition is soothing, easy, and - counterintuitively - he finds his head drooping forward into sleep-

And he snaps back upright. No. Not until he can confirm Leo is okay.

Leo is behind him, he knows. Breathing. In bed. Asleep. Very much alive. And-

He jumps and whips around as a thud sounds behind him. "What the-"

Leo is on the floor.

Well, that answers the question as to whether his twin is awake.

For a fraction of a second, part of him wavers uncertainly. He loves his idiot twin. The question he hasn't been able to answer is whether his reaction to Leo waking up will fall on love or idiot twin-

"Leo!"

He can hear the exasperation in his voice, and yep, it's the latter. He takes a knee next to Leo and hauls him into his arms, lecturing him all the while, and if he can hear the annoyance in his voice then Leo sure as hell can. Sleep deprivation for the purposes of keeping his brother's soul alight had done nothing for his temper. "I swear to God, all you had to do was make a sound! Why are you such a difficult patient?"

He deposits Leo carefully on the bed - "Sit still!" - and checks him over, running every scan he can think of and making sure his brother's new body really is in good working order, spouting increasingly irritated commentary all the while. Of course the fall didn't hurt him - Leo is tougher than that, and Donnie does better work than that - but he still can't help the rising anxiety in his throat.

This almost didn't happen.

"-stupid, stupid selfless idiot!"

Donnie almost couldn't save him.

"Grrhh-"

Leo nearly died for real. Permanently beyond Donnie's reach. Well and truly gone-

"Do you have any idea how close you were to having nothing left to save?"

And now here Leo is, in perfect health, sitting on Donnie's bed with a big dopey grin on his face as Donnie chokes on his anxiety and damn near shakes himself apart-

Oh for fuck's sake.

"Hey. Are you even listening?"

Leo speaks up for the first time since he's woken up, voice shaky from disuse. "D-Donnie?"

And that is not a goddamn answer to anything Donnie has been saying, because of course it isn't. It's Leo. He's always had his own priorities. "Yeah. No. You're not fucking listening." Donnie heaves a long-suffering sigh, sinking back into the routine comfort that irritation at his twin provides. "At least you're talking." Small favors. "Although I'm surprised you're not throwing your stupid jokes at me." Even smaller favors.

He stops short as Leo's hand closes around his wrist, drawing Donnie's arm to Leo's plastron. "You're real," his brother breathes, looking from Donnie's hand to Donnie himself with tears streaming down his face. "You're real!"

And then, in the space of a thought, Leo's joy breaks, his smile turning desperate. "Are you?"

For a moment, Donnie stares at his twin, wondering at the sudden change in expression. He takes a breath-

And the part of him that had lain dormant for so long after he'd woken up - the part of him that had been screaming for his twin's safety ever since they'd recovered the few scattered embers of Leo's soul - gasps to life, blooming like a time-lapse video of a flower and reaching to the edges of Donnie's soul. Leo had called it their twin sense, and Donnie hadn't had it in him to argue after a while. Whatever it is, it's back, connected to Leo's renewed presence, and-

Donnie's heart floods with emotions. Relief and joy sprout quickly and are nearly swept away in a tide of exhaustionanxietyfearfearfearfearFEAR-

But down beneath it all, steady against the rising wall of terror, is the little blue spark of hope that his brother always carried. His core. The thing that let him continue on in the face of insurmountable odds, and lent that same strength to everyone around him. A ninja's greatest weapon.

It's Leo. It's Leo-

And Donnie can't leave him alone in his fear. Not when there's no need for it. Not when they're safe.

He lets that breath out, and sits next to Leo on the bed. "Mhm. I'm alive. And you're alive. We're safe. The Krang are gone." That's all the news that's fit to print, or at least the most important parts. What else does he have to say?

Oh.

"I'm sorry I..uh…"

He's sorry he what? Died? Left a mess for Leo to deal with? Didn't do enough while he was alive to keep everyone else alive in turn after he was gone? Kept his brother's soul in a fucking mug, because that was the only way he could ensure he wouldn't break it while Leo was still fragile? All of the above?

…yeah, it's all of the above.

He owes Leo one hell of an apology, and he's never been good at any of this, so instead he shrugs haplessly and leans forward, pulling Leo into his arms and hanging on tight.

It's a matter of moments before Leo has him flat on his shell on the bed and is sobbing into his arms. Normally he'd hate seeing his twin cry, but it's proof of life - proof that Leo made it, that his soul is intact enough for him to still be Leo, that he's alive and awake and here - and Donnie will take it.

And if he's squeezing Leo back pretty hard himself, well, that's fine too. Nobody else needs to know.

~~~~~~~

Donnie is yelling at him.

Donnie is strong enough to have picked Leo up off the ground, well enough to be on his feet without support, running tests and reading Leo the riot act over his latest boneheaded maneuver - in this case, forgetting he was missing an arm and falling out of bed.

Donnie is yelling at him, because Donnie is here to yell at him.

And Leo is smiling, because he couldn't be happier. He lets the words wash over him, draping over his shoulders like a favorite cozy blanket that he'd lost so many years ago, and he basks in the warmth that is his brother's voice and smiles.

It's enough to interrupt the yelling for a question, though he doesn't really hear it - just keeps smiling, and says Donnie's name, and it's so nice to be able to say it with a smile now, because Donnie is here-

-he is, right? This isn't just a dying hallucination on Leo's part, right?

(It couldn't be- he remembers his death, remembers breathing his last, remembers being trapped- but this-)

He reaches out, taking Donnie's wrist in hand, and pulls his brother closer to him. "You're…real…" It certainly feels real - skin and scales, softer than his own, and his fingers barely fit all the way around the wrist instead of encircling them with room to spare - and he stares down at it, tears rolling down his face as he finally looks back up at his twin. "You're real!"

The Krang show you what you want to see.

The thought strikes him unbidden, turning his joy and relief to ice. It's a well-known fact: a Krang infection can show its host what they want to see, visions of comfort and family and home, and extract intel from the host's reactions. He knows that- he knows that, and-

And he'd died surrounded by Krang- and even if he couldn't see or hear or feel, he knows he'd been held captive-

But it's Donnie- he wants this to be real- he needs this to be real- he wants his twin back so badly he can't think, and the idea that this could be a Krang hallucination is almost too much to bear-

"Are you?" He can hear how choked the words are as they leave his lips, but he needs to know-

And Donnie stops, and sits down next to him, and tells him everything he wants to hear - everything he could've ever wished for. They're alive. They're safe. The Krang are gone. It all sounds too good to be true.

And then Donnie offers him an apology and a sad half-smile, pulling him into a strong hug-

And the ice in Leo's mind shatters in a flood of warmth as his twin sense opens for the first time since Donnie's death. He feels his twin's irritation, and deep-seated exhaustion, and a choking wave of guiltguiltguiltguiltguilt-

And beneath it all, steady and strong as ever, the thrum of unending determination, powered by an unfathomably deep well of love. It's the backbeat to the melody of Leo's life, the point-counterpoint to his own heartbeat- it's something he'd never had to live without until he did, but it's back, rushing in to fill the silence he'd known with the strength to go on and the knowledge that he is loved loved loved, strong and overwhelming and all-encompassing in the way only Donnie can love-

It's something the Krang could never imitate.

This is real. This is all real-

He throws himself against his twin, toppling them both over on the bed as he clings to Donnie, unable to stand even a fraction of an inch of space between them, as though he could push their hearts together through their plastrons, and he cries, sobbing out worry and terror and grief and the slow, crushing exhaustion of a losing battle finally lost. He cries as though the world was ending - and it had, once when the Krang had invaded and again every time he'd lost a member of his family, over and over until he'd sent his last hope through a portal that had cost his littlest brother his life and succumbed to death himself.

And now he's alive. Here, wherever here is, with Donnie. Clinging to his twin, and being held in turn as Donnie gently sits them both up, never letting go as Leo cries himself out.

It takes a while - long enough for Leo's gaze to settle into a stare and his thoughts to settle into a comfortable static. He's alive, Donnie is alive, and he has no fucking idea what else is going on, but he's just going to be okay with that for now.

His thoughts rouse enough to inform him of something wrong - the line of tension Donnie is carrying down his neck and over his shoulders. That won't do. Leo could try to massage it out with one hand, maybe try to get Donnie to talk about it, but Donnie never likes to talk about it, and Leo isn't one for slowly soothing away tension when he can just take an axe to the release valve instead. Plus, it gives him something definite to focus on, instead of…this whole situation. Whatever 'this whole situation' actually is.

Donnie had mentioned his stupid jokes, right?

"H-hey Dee?" His voice wavers from disuse, thick with tears, but he pushes through. "Why did- why did the tree buy a camera?"

"What?" Oh, Donnie is not going to see this coming. Excellent.

"To do a photosynthesis." It's nowhere near the level of pizazz he normally uses for a punchline delivery - he's still too tired and frazzled and clinging to Donnie entirely too hard for that - but that beautiful pause of a terrible joke sinking in tells him it had hit home nonetheless. Donnie moves - he can hear the telltale slap of face meeting palm - and then breaks down into helpless laughter, smacking the back of Leo's shell as the tension Leo had felt in his twin's shoulders abruptly relaxes. Good. It worked.

"This is so fucking stupid," is all Donnie manages as his laughter fades, and he slumps fully against Leo with a murmur. That's...abrupt. Sure, Leo had felt Donnie's exhaustion, but he hadn't realized it'd been that bad. He takes hold of Donnie, gently laying him down on the bed to rest-

Remember what happened last time Donnie fell asleep next to you.

He gasps sharply at the thought - not again NEVER again - and keeps his hand steady as he moves, laying both fingers gently against Donnie's neck and feeling for his pulse. It's easy to find, strong and steady and even, like it had been before the infection had taken Donnie's vitality and then his life.

But he's alive, and healthy, and sleeping. He's okay. And Leo-

Leo moves his hand to the side of his own neck. His pulse is also easy to find, quickened with the adrenaline of an unknown situation and multiple consecutive shocks to his system.

Okay. Take stock. Assess. Figure out a plan from there.

He's alive. Donnie's alive. The Krang are gone. And everything else…is a big fat question mark, with no easy answers and no indication as to where to begin looking for them.

Well.

Uh.

"What the fuck," Leo whispers to the room at large, as though the walls could answer.

~~~~~~~

(A world away and still very close, a younger pair of twins cling to one another the way a drowning man clings to driftwood: desperately, clutching tight, as though letting go will spell their doom. Neither of them know where the emotions came from, or why; all they know is that each of them are damn glad the other is alive, and they'll do everything they can to make sure that continues to be the case.)

(What the fuck, indeed.)

#rottmnt #cass apocalyptic series #future leo #future donnie #fic #writing #cw sibling death #mention of it at least #referencing the scrapped movie storyboards because it's too good a beat to pass up #we have fun here #no gods no betas we die like NOBODY BECAUSE DONNIE FUCKING FIXED IT #I GUESS #twin sense shit is my FUCKING JAM #inexplicable mystic bonds between two halves of a whole? sign me the FUCK up #I couldn't decide whose POV to write this from so I just did both #which is WHY it's 2K+ words #it's not perfect but it's Good Enough and therefore it's getting posted #fuck it we ball

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kleewie · 4 months

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i don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you (and i)

summary: dating tip? just don't. for celebrities, romantic relationships are absolutely forbidden. the slightest hint of one could ruin your career. but are you even listening to the lecture? doubt it, 'cause you're doing the complete opposite. (alternatively, a celebrity au featuring secret relationships.)

→ featuring: childe, & ayato (you can really tell who my faves are)

→ warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, slight cursing, established relationship, mentions of alcohol and drinking, tension, actual cursing, unreliable reader pov, gender-neutral reader (i apologize if i missed things, i haven't proofread it yet)

→ a/n: so, hi! long time no see? i was pretty stressed with college and well, i'm back! i began writing this last year and finally got the courage to finish it. but here it is and i hope you enjoy it :> please let me know if you like it <3 it really makes my day!

credits to @dumplingsjinson for the prompts!

beware, lengthy post ahead! more under the cut!

the debut.

“forbidden?” you repeat.

“absolutely forbidden!” your manager says. “a rookie with no fanbase? a scandal will ruin your reputation! you're absolutely forbidden from dating anyone.”

you sigh. he's being too overdramatic.

you will never be in a relationship, you're absolutely sure. how can you? with no time for yourself as it is, dating someone with the limited hours you already have sounds impractical.

besides, you're too busy training and practicing for auditions.

remembering it now, you want to laugh.

i told you so, your thoughts chastise.

god, you should've listened.

childe, the actor

“that's a wrap!” the director cheers.

your eyes glisten as you hold back tears. it's embarrassing, you think. so damn embarrassing.

you've been repeating the same kissing scene multiple times now. obviously, the director cheers for finally completing the take and not because you did a good job.

childe pats your back. “you did great,” he says, with a smile.

but you know the gesture so goddamn well. the same nonchalant cold grin he throws at everyone that he now directs at you? oh, he's angry alright.

for what reason? who knows. you're too busy wallowing in self-despair over how terrible your acting is.

the scene is supposedly simple. it involves the second lead, who happens to be you, confessing their love to the leading man, resulting to a spontaneous kiss.

yet, you're fumbling over the lines, acting so out of character, tripping over set, incorrectly initiating the kiss at awkward angles—the whole time-wasting squander.

“what's going on?” childe eventually asks, once he arrives at your shared apartment. his bag drops to the floor with a flop. “you're acting strange. the entire crew sees it, i see it, the director sees it—what if he decides to fire you? what will you do then?”

you swallow dryly. you left the set early hoping childe's hectic schedule prompted him to forget the whole issue. yet, here he is finally bringing up the conversation after what feels like a month's worth of tension.

as you sit on the sofa chair, your fingers massage the bridge of your nose. breathe in, breathe out. you repeat. don't cry. you try to calm yourself down as a sob tries to break through.

eight months, you've been a couple.

but, there are some things you're afraid to say.

each year, the biggest tabloid newspaper in the country releases an article on celebrity dating scandals. a month ago they released one single page article about a popular actor dating a newbie actress. it barely had any juicy details, just a simple paragraph of a somebody dating a nobody.

yet, it did not end well for them. and you're terrified; for when it could happen to you.

you imagine it. dozens of messages and multiple missed phone calls on your cell as your name becomes the next talk of the town. the headline reads: revealed! a nobody actress, the second-lead from the northland bank saga currently dates the nation's boyfriend, childe!

it terrifies you. you could lose your job. lose what you love doing the most. and you could get tossed aside like an old sweater under someone's bed, left to rot and decompose.

so, yes. you hesitated earlier at set because you don't want anyone to connect the dots. to look at the kiss between you two and notice something amiss. to speculate that there's more to your relationship than what meets the eye. to realize you look at him as more than a co-star. to see how much you're in love with him. to realize the both of you are dating.

“it's not easy.” you say, releasing a sigh.

two years you've been in the business. rookies barely get any roles as it is. being in a well-received rendition of an old romance drama is a once in a blue moon opportunity and you can't risk someone finding out about your relationship.

“camera shy? no—you've kissed heaps of actors for that school drama.”

you mumble, “two people aren't heaps of actors, tartaglia.”

“then what is the problem?”

childe saunters to where you sit. he leans towards you and presses his palm on the head of the sofa, trapping your body between his and the chair. childe's eyes meet yours and you instantly look away.

he knows you well enough to comprehend that look on your face. the way you hide your clammy hands behind you, the manner of your eyes staring only at your feet, how your body tucks itself into the corner of the seat.

“me?” childe whispers.

he places a hand under your jaw. his thumb softly pushes your chin upwards so your eyes meet his.

“why?” he pleads.

“you won't understand.”

“i will if you tell me,” he says, holding your gaze. seeing how you relentlessly persist on keeping your mouth shut, he shakes his head. “oh, please tell me.”

you hesitate. you tell him and then what?

you could say: hey, childe! i'm afraid of our relationship being discovered. i'll be hated by your fans. you'll be constantly drained by my crying and whining. your reputation would take a hit regardless of how popular you are and—and then he'll finally realize how exhausting and annoying it is being with you.

your self-deprecation loves to pull you deeper into its sapping embrace. you're nothing, it mouths. childe would dump you and find some other actor or actress to date. god. it would be so easy. with his popularity, good looks, and charming personality, he'd find a better and talented rising-star the moment he chucks you out the front door.

so, you shake your head firmly.

“tell me, please.” he whispers.

you cross your arms, and look away.

“are you sick?”

you shake your head.

“somebody hurting you on set?”

again, you shake your head.

childe pauses, “...do you have feelings for someone else?”

“no!”

“then what is the damn problem?”

“nothing!” you exasperate, furrowing your brows together.

childe takes your reluctance as distrust and it ignites his irritation. do you not trust him? is he that insignificant to you? what are you hiding? hell, did you fall for the main lead of the show, zhongli? or do you not love him anymore? god, he can feel himself suffocate in resentment.

is he so unimportant that you'd prefer to keep the problem to yourself? it makes his blood boil; how he'd do anything for you, but you'd rather keep it to yourself and suffer alone.

“tell me.” childe scowls as he watches your lips quiver.

you keep your mouth firmly shut.

“fine, hold your tongue.” he sneers, “i understand. i really do, baby. it's not about the cameras, the flashing lights, the audience.”

childe brushes his lips against yours, “you wouldn’t kiss me like that in public, though, would you?” he releases his hold on your chin and his sharp eyes meet yours. “it’s only behind closed doors when you care to act like we’re each other’s.”

with a hooded jacket in one hand and a face mask in another, childe swiftly leaves the apartment with a slam of a door.

leaving you alone with your wretched thoughts.

more under the cut!

despite walking out the flat hours ago, childe still reverberates jealousy and anger; pure envy at how normal you act around everyone else yet, around him you're too guarded; and angry at himself for saying those awful words to your face.

he smacks his forehead on the steering wheel. childe acknowledges how childish he's been acting. you aren't ready to talk, and he shouldn't be forcing you to speak out your difficulties.

surely, the stress is piling up on you. he knows the hours you've been working on set, memorizing lines, practicing moves—again, he thumps his head on the wheel.

stupid, he curses. control your damn temper next time.

he reaches for the box of blueberry cheesecake on the front passenger seat. subconsciously, he drove two hours (and back) to the bakery's main branch as its side branches were sold out of your favorite cake. and he knows how much you love the pastry.

however, his body slouches in the parked car outside the apartment. the long drive works miracles with his anger, but the courage to actually walk inside and apologize never comes.

the ding of a text draws his attention. ‘go inside and beg for forgiveness, brat.’ yoimiya, a fellow actress from the same company as him, says. the woman is always in the loop and well-informed.

a shiver goes down his spine. if you told yoimiya about the argument, he's absolutely sure you're furious. you'd only speak to her as a last-ditch effort; knowing her personality she'd pummel him to bits while you watch.

as a result, he stands inside the apartment, one hand knocking on your bedroom door. however, instead of tasting blood, he hears your stifled sobs. the abrupt sound convinces him to turn the knob and enter the room.

the illumination from the hallway brightens the bedroom, shining a bit of light on your face. you lay on the bed with your knees to your chest, with a blanket over your waist. your reddened cheeks and tear-stained eyes makes his stomach churn.

“please don't cry, baby.” childe cooes, kneeling by your bedside. he leans over you, his fingers gently grip your cheeks. “i'm so sorry.”

the sudden apology sprouts pools from your eyes. his thumbs brush the water off your face and softly says, “i shouldn't have said—please, don't cry. it's my fault for taking my anger out on you.”

“i'm afraid of losing you,” you whimper. “if they find out—oh god—they'll tear me apart. i'm nothing compared to you. i'd lose everything. i might even lose you—”

“never, i will never leave you. no matter what happens,” childe interjects.

you furrow your brows, sobbing. “i'm no one—too difficult,” you hiccup. “you'll throw me away. i'm too whiny and too draining. if they find out... you'll see all the comments about how ugly—”

“breathe, baby.” he settles himself on your bed and softly places you on his lap. “you're gorgeous. you're not draining, and frankly, you're cute when you whine.”

you bury your face into his neck and continue, “i'm serious, childe. you'll get exhausted. the articles will talk about you too!”

“articles, mhm. they're just articles.” he hums.

irritation begins to set in. was he this clueless? you release another sob, “they're not just articles. they'll nitpick every single thing you do! oh—look at this newbie getting together with childe. oh, they suck at acting! why is childe even—”

childe gently places his palm on your neck, coaxing you to meet his gaze. “are you talking about the tabloid from last month?”

you sigh, “what else am i talking about?” and instantly you sense his laughter resonate. “are you laughing?”

“you're adorable, baby.” he breathes, nuzzling his face on your neck.

“you're making fun of me! what the hell, childe?”

he releases a sigh, pausing his laughter. “the tabloids every month. they're paid. companies pay them to talk about their idols for publicity.”

your face contorts into confusion, “who would willingly—they talked about lumine all month because of the article! you know she's my favorite actress. why would they willingly put her on the spotlight like that?”

“publicity, baby.”

you shake your head, “it makes no sense.”

“oh, it does.” childe hums. “of course, they'd seek permission first. it boosted views for her drama, didn't it? lumine did say she got extra for the views and switched apartments.”

“yeah, wait—you knew this whole time and didn't bother to tell me?”

he chuckles, “that's what you get for keeping these things to yourself for a month.” he squeezes the bridge of your nose.

“you're terrible.”

“love you too, baby.” he teases, “and besides, if a tabloid threatened to do something—” his thumb gently traces the skin around your neck. “—i'll keep you safe.”

a soft smile graces your features. “...i'm just not ready for anyone to find out. yet, anyway.”

childe hums, “we'll do it on your terms, okay? whenever you're ready.”

“sure, i guess you can keep me for a while longer. until you throw me away and find the next rookie to—”

childe's soft laughter sparks a flutter in your stomach. he would never do such a thing. the moment he first laid his eyes on you on set, heard your beautiful laugh between takes, listened to your jokes while practicing lines, and god, seen your angelic smile? the things he would do to keep you as his.

“never.” a cheeky grin appears on his lips, “i'll take care of you.”

bonus: five years later

your phone rings. the vibration continues on and off, signaling multiple inbox messages. you swipe your phone to see texts from several of your close friends.

‘i know you told me you were okay with it, but i didn't think he'd try to do it so soon. i tried but he's too hardheaded.’ says yoimiya.

‘congratulations! when's the wedding? i'm kidding. don't kill childe.’ says thoma, an actor from your same company.

‘sorrows, sorrows, prayers.’ says venti, your current co-star.

you even receive a message from childe himself.

‘good morning, baby. i'm completely fault-free. simply honoring your wishes as a devoted fiancé should.’

attached to a message was a link to a video entitled: please don't kill me honey.

you click the link.

the video's blurry, as if taken by a cellphone. you recognize thoma as the person videoing the whole scene, as he turns the camera to face him before focusing it on a woman—seemingly a fan of childe. she wears merch from his most recent drama.

a fan goes on stage chosen by a random lottery draw. the said fan wins the chance to interview childe, who was the guest of the day for talk show, and ask one question.

the girl hastily walks on stage, holding a microphone given by staff.

“um. hello, childe!”

the audience screams as the huge video screen focuses on your lover's face. he waves a quick ‘hello’ and the crowd yells louder.

the girl hesitates, “are you dating anyone right now?”

childe twists the microphone in his hands. “hm? right now... i'm not dating anyone.”

the crows sighs in relief, utterly happy their favorite leading actor continues to be single.

but you see the outline of a smirk flashing on his face, and you instantly know there's a deeper meaning to that sentence. “but, it's difficult to say... since we're not really dating as of the moment.”

quietly, you hear the voice of yoimiya whispering, “don't do it.” the camera now focusing on her, trying to get herself on stage. thoma flips the camera around to face it on himself, waving a hello, apparently enjoying the drama. he then focuses the camera on the wide screen, featuring childe's face.

to add mayhem into the mix, childe continues, “i don't think being engaged to your partner falls under dating. we're way past that.”

the interview ends with the audience screaming their lungs out in disbelief, while childe's laugh resonates the whole auditorium.

ayato, company director

“oh, them?” ayato's steady gaze meet yours, pressing his lips in a tight-lipped smile. “they're a friend of mine.”

friend. it echoes in your mind, repeating incessantly. friend. friend. friend.

dread creeps into the pit of your stomach akin to a quick flick of a lighter. after all this time, your stomach lurches. is that all he thinks of you?

god, you need a drink.

the businessmen before you smile, prompting you to return the favor. subsequently, you humbly introduce yourself as just an ‘actor in the industry’. and they laugh. of course they do.

who wouldn't know you? a multi award-winning movie and television star with piles of nominations. so modest, they say. so kind, they praise. you grin, the smile not reaching your eyes, thanking them for their compliments.

but you're so accustomed to their fake smiles, ingenuine flattery, and sweet talk; you never truly know what's actually honest and real—eyes flickering to your azure-haired partner—no, who's honest and real.

you swallow the thought down.

as if aware of the invisible daggers thrown his way, ayato's gaze meets yours. his lips are pressed firmly together, eyes devoid of warmth.

not now, his expression conveys.

you narrow your own eyes, irritation burning through your corneas. as much as you want to start an argument in front of his investors, you agree to his silent insistence. after all it's his gala; one he's tirelessly prepared for over several months.

so you bite your tongue and smile: one honed by years of acting—fake yet strangely genuine.

it's not strong enough. you say, sipping wine with shaky hands. earlier, you left ayato to his fellow businessmen using the excuse of needing a bathroom break, a reason to which he obliged.

you stare at the elaborate party before you, wishing you could go home. the gala swiftly dissolved your social battery, aided by forced mingling and bitterness. a friend, your consciousness repeats. always a friend. so you sit on a chair by the wall, sipping drinks like water.

suddenly, the hairs of your neck stand on end. you sense his presence behind you, prompting a glance through your peripheral vision.

“careful, darling.” ayato's says, tone smooth yet laced with warning. “i'd rather not have you collapsing. your lovely face wouldn't compliment these filthy floors.”

you tense immediately, shoulders stiffening. “reverting back to pet names, i see?”

ayato's hand now rests on your shoulder, his thumb brushing your soft skin. “what seems to be the issue? i doubt it's due to the eight glasses of wine you've consumed in one sitting.”

you roll your tongue in your mouth, practicing the words. let's break up. you bite your tongue. let's see other people. besides, he wouldn't care would he? it's not as if he's been acknowledging you as someone he's been dating, has he? hiding your relationship from his business partners is one thing, but concealing it from closest friends? his family? that's an entirely different matter altogether.

a friend, he says to his business partners.

a star from the company, he answers to his closest friends.

a companion, he whispers to his family.

you're sick and tired of it. all of it.

raising the wineglass to your lips, you drown the drink in one go. you raise two fingers signaling the waiter for another drink.

ayato sighs and you think you feel his hand on your neck tighten, ever so slightly. “you've reached your limit with wine, dear.”

soon, the waiter arrives with three more glasses on his tray. ayato's disapproving glare compels the waiter to scurry across the ballroom floor, steering clear of you.

you click your tongue and begin, “who says so?”

“your fiancé,” he mutters, voice dripping with venom.

you immediately scoff. “sure. for your sake, i'll pretend you mentioned that earlier.”

before ayato could retort, the presence of another individual calls his attention; his younger sister, ayaka.

“brother, the sangonomiya heir's requesting your presence.”

he sighs, irritation etching his features. yet, you blink, catching a subtle shift in his expression—seemingly twisting from annoyance to something resembling relief at the mention of sangonomiya's name.

you swallow the bitter thought.

“watch them for me, could you? i'd rather not have them find a server willing to disobey my instructions and serve them a drink,” ayato whispers, his tone betraying a hint of tension that doesn't go unnoticed.

ayaka nods. her consent prompts the older brother to depart, heading towards the misty rose-pink heir who stands at the opposite side of the ballroom.

ayaka says the inevitable, “you should let him know it bothers you.”

“...i'm not sure what you're referring to.”

her gaze follows yours, observing the giggling and cheerful countenances of the kamisato and sangonomiya heirs. they seem to be enjoying their time together. as always, you remark.

“they're just close friends, you know.”

you click your tongue. “like how him and i are just friends?”

ayaka sighs, understanding your implication. “you know what i mean.”

sangonomiya's hand on your partner's shoulder elicits an exasperated sigh from you. “thoma told me they were to be married if i wasn't here.”

“the man always running his mouth—” she takes a calming breath before continuing, “—but brother's very fond of you. i'm his sister, i should know.”

“then how come after dating him for five years, he still calls me his friend.” you pause, a hand sliding into the right pocket of your outfit. you absentmindedly play with the engagement ring inside. “i'm his fiancé, aren't i?”

“he has his reasons. petty reasons.”

you bite your tongue. or he's embarrassed of you.

you met the kamisato company heir two years after your debut as an idol. as you shifted towards acting, you developed a close relationship with his sister, a seasoned actress from the same company. eventually, she became the bridge that strengthened the bond between the two of you.

you dedicated yourself nonstop, evolving from a rookie actor to a multiple-nominee and winning star; all in the pursuit of being able to openly show off your relationship with ayato without it tarnishing your reputation.

however, when you're prepared to finally reveal your relationship, he isn't.

and it leaves you wondering, is there someone else?

you mean, you're hesitant to doubt the love of your life. but considering he's kept your relationship a secret from everyone for years, it's obvious he's adept at keeping things hidden.

even from you.

and the thought sours your mood.

excusing yourself once more to use the restroom, using the premise of consuming ten glasses of wine, you bid adieu to your favorite kamisato (at the moment). you instead head towards a secluded balcony away from prying eyes.

you stare at the garden below. your eyes quickly blink back the tears threatening to fall. not now, you hiss. don't do this to me, not right now.

“i assumed you would have retreated to your room by this point.” his voice murmurs, unnervingly composed.

you turn around to see your partner holding a glass of wine. his features remain blank, inscrutable.

maybe it's because of all the wine you've been drinking. you can't seem to tell between what's real or not.

“what did you discuss with kokomi?”

“i wasn't aware you were both on a first name basis.”

“answer the question.”

he smiles, “business as always.”

you huff and wrap your hands around your arms. “of course. just business.”

ayato immediately picks up the anger in your tone. he lays his palm on your forearm, gently pulling you towards him. “look at me,” he pleads, with a subtle trace of irritation in his voice.

you turn to look at his face, eyes glaring.

“i felt your glares the entire night.” he begins.

you shrug, smiling innocently. “...what ever do you mean?”

“don't toy with me, darling.”

as he enunciates his answer, it's as if the final thread of your patience snaps. does he still continue to feign innocence and lie to your face?

last month he proposed and you were overjoyed. you then expected a shift in your relationship; the final unveiling of your engagement to the public. you gave him your permission, a definitive “i'm ready for everyone to know.”

yet thirty days later the engagement remains concealed leaving only a few of his friends (thoma) and a few family members (ayaka) knowing about your updated relationship.

if it was the ayato from two years ago, he would be delighted—ecstatic even—to reveal the truth. he might have used the gala today as an avenue to scream to the world, this person and i are in love.

but he didn't.

so the weight of your feelings began to drag you down; it almost feels suffocating in a way. as if a ribbon labeled, he's ashamed, tightly winds around your insides, intricately tying them all together into a sophisticated bow sowing distrust whispering; he's hiding something.

your suspicions, coupled with his frequent visits this month to the sangonomiya estate, fueled your frustration until it erupted. if only he ceased pretending innocent, perhaps you would able to smile through the whole facade.

if only he didn't ask.

“i'm not naive. if you developed feelings for kokomi then you shouldn't have proposed.” you snap. “was it out of pity? did you feel so damn guilty that you chose to go through with the engagement instead of being honest about your feelings?”

ayato furrows his brows, mouth tightening in anger. “what are you talking about? i discuss private affairs with kokomi. business affairs.”

you laugh; one infused with irritation and disbelief. “don't tell me then. keep your stupid secrets.”

“do you want me to jot down a damn list detailing every single thing i do in a day?” he growls. “i won't divulge company secrets just because you feel like throwing a tantrum.”

your hands drift to the tie around his neck, tugging the crooked tie straight. “no. go ahead and keep your secrets.” you pause and roll the words with your tongue, “you're clearly very good at keeping secrets. you’ve kept me—us—as a secret for so long, so of course you’d be good at keeping fucking secrets.”

anger flares across his face. “you desired our relationship to remain a secret, and i respected your wishes.” he sneers, “i wanted to let the damn world know how much i'm in love with you yet, it was the opposite of what you desired.”

ayato releases his grip on you and strides back into the ballroom, but he halts right at the door to the balcony. “so don't dictate when i should reveal the truth simply because you've grown sick and tired of keeping me as your dirty, little secret.”

he finally departs; and you stay, tears pooling, with a profound ache in your heart.

ayato waltzes around the room in a nonchalant dance; yes, good to see you. he lies. how's business? he couldn't care less. enjoy the party! no, he wants everyone in the damn room to feel his wrath.

although he yearns to set the entire ballroom ablaze, ending the party prematurely would be ill-manned of him. so, ayato continues being a gracious and honorable host.

but he feels hollow. he envisions himself freezing the entire room in an icy gust, everyone turning into statues. he wants to sprint back into your arms and plead for you to listen.

he doesn't understand what came over him. why he lost his temper like that. typically, he'd manage your outbursts with composure and understanding. what happened? he doesn't know.

he attributes his outburst to the mounting pressure. the chronic lack of sleep and continuous exhaustion coming from his title as heir. perhaps it's the truth gnawing his skin; despite his powerful position atop the company, it can easily be ripped away with the flick of a wrist.

instead of spending time with his fiancé—he doesn't know if he still deserves to call you that, you probably threw away his ring the second he left the balcony—yet here he is, engaged in conversations with business associates he cares little about.

“brother?” ayaka calls. she finds him leaning against a railing of stairs. “i closed off the gardens.”

ayato swallows. he last saw you sneaking towards the grounds. “they're still on the grass?”

“yes.”

“they'll catch a cold.”

“they will.”

he glances at his sister. “they think i'm unfaithful.”

“i know,” she says matter-of-factly. “have you offered them any evidence to convince them otherwise?”

ayato stays silent.

“i know you care about them, brother.” ayaka sighs, “however, surprising them with a specially crafted ring and being petty when your entire relationship is at stake may not be the wisest move.”

he sighs.

“most especially if they suspect that your frequent visits to the sangonomiya manor are fueled by romantic feelings for its heiress, and not for their own wedding ring.”

after a while, ayato spots you lying on the grass in a starfish formation, having finally swallowed his pride. his eyes glaze over your features: red eyes, cheeks marked with tear stains, and an exhausted expression.

“can we talk?” he begins.

you spare a quick glance before turning your attention back to the night sky. “there's not much to talk about.”

“i'm not cheating,” he asserts.

“i know.”

“do you know, or have you resigned yourself to not knowing?”

“hm,” you hum. “a part of me entertains the thought of you cheating. yet an even smaller part absolutely knows that if you were truly cheating, you'd be more discreet. who, in their right mind, would inform thoma that you visited her manor?”

he chuckles, a laughter-less sound escapes him. “i understand i've been secretive. you have every right to assume i'm up to something indecent. but i have my reasons.” ayato confesses, kneeling beside your body. he places his hand inside his suit pocket, pulling up a black small box.

you instantly sit up. “you're horrible,” you cough, eyes widening as he opens the box to show a ring. “this entire time you were—god.”

“i placed a special order,” he mumbles. “i visited each day to ensure it was flawless, right down to the smallest details.”

“i'm so sorry.”

“don't be, love.” he breathes, “you had your reasons, and i was insistent on keeping it a surprise.”

relief floods your features. “good,” you whisper before tears well in your eyes.

the sound of your sobs breaks his heart. he immediately wraps his arms around you, brushing his lips on your cheeks.

“i'm sorry, darling,” he murmurs, kissing the skin above your brow. “i'm sorry for worrying you.”

“goddamn sadistic,” you sob. “you knew i was freaking out, but you just watched!”

he grins, “i have to admit, you look cute when you're jealous.”

a groan escapes you. “don't make me throw away both rings.”

“is that so? i should've ordered twenty spares.”

“no.” you scold.

“oh? look at my darling, so jealous,” he smirks, nuzzling his face into your neck. you then feel his lips press into a straight line. “you're not something i would ever try to hide. i would never be ashamed of our relationship.”

you laugh, “prove it.”

your smile faces seeing the smirk on his face. in that exact moment, you know that kamisato ayato, the preposterous god in human flesh, plans to do something grand and explosive to prove you otherwise.

“do not.” you begin, “we've talked about this. you cannot—you absolutely will not bribe the government to declare our wedding date as a national holiday!”

bonus: ten minutes before the clash

“is it getting warm in here, or am i sensing the intense gaze of your loving fiancé on me?” kokomi laughs, sipping a glass of champagne.

ayato takes a peek, and he chuckles upon seeing your irritated and jealous expression. “they certainly are.”

“please do not involve me in your lovers' quarrels. everyone knows we're just close friends.”

“they do.”

“have you told them?”

“...it may have slipped past my mind.”

kokomi shakes her head. “sadistic.” she slips a black box into his palm. “clear it up. i do not want to be murdered by your future partner.”

ayato glances at you from across the room as you engage a conversation with his sister. “mhm, i could, but their jealous expression is too endearing.”

“sadistic,” she repeats. “absolutely sadistic.”

he chuckles.

“also, kazuha mentioned that you've been referring to them as your companion. correct that.” she continues, “and stop calling them your friend!”

“they asked me to when we started dating.”

she rolls her eyes. “you're so petty. stop trying to provoke them!”

“anyways, everyone knows we're engaged,” he corrects. “their whining face is the cutest.”

“sadistic.”

“kokomi?”

she tilts her head and hums, “yes?”

“ever wondered how much it costs to propose a national holiday?”

author’s note: lmao. so in this modern au ayato actually succeeds in turning your wedding date into a national holiday. the government actually appreciates his donation because a.) they always accept goodwilled (lmao) funds and b.) ayato's an important pillar to the gov and they don't want to upset him 'cause petty rich boy tantrums tilt the economy (how sadistic).

so, ayato's the heir of the company where you are employed at as an idol turned actor/actress. kokomi is the heiress to a big jewelry corporation. lmao they were both engaged together when they were like five but they instantly broke it off because well, they both threw five year old tantrums.

plus thoma telling you that they were to be engaged was just a fact he blurted out when you asked about kokomi (he manages to omit the five-year-old part because he's careless + he didn't think it matters because anyone can tell ayato's intensely in love with you)

#genshin x you #genshin x reader #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact x reader #tartaglia x reader #childe x you #childe x reader #ayato x reader #kamisato ayato x reader #ayato x you #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin headcannons #genshin angst #genshin hurt/comfort #kamisato ayato #childe #tartaglia x you

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harrysmmm · 9 months

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𝑵𝒐𝒕 𝒉𝒊𝒎, 𝒚𝒐𝒖 | 𝒅.𝒎

Draco Malfoy x Y/N (f!reader)

Setting: Harry Potter and the Half-blood Prince

Summary: where Draco has had a crush on you since forever, but you were dating Harry, until you two break up.

A/N: I wrote this in a day. Hope you like it! I might make a part two if you want it :) happy reading!

W/C: 4.6K

masterlist here

“But I am in love with you Y/N!”

“We’re always fighting Harry; it’s actually getting too much at this point.”

You and Harry had been dating since fourth year, when he asked you to the Yull Ball, but you’d had a crush on each other since you met. However, since fifth year, when the Order of the Phoenix was created within Hogwarts and Harry became more dedicated to Voldemort’s pursue, things had gotten out of hand between you two. You were constantly getting into arguments – Harry not communicating anything with you and you having to rip the thoughts out of him. You felt like you came as Harry’s last priority and although you had much love for him, you were sick of the ongoing difficult tension between the two of you.

“It’s not because we fight a lot that it means I don’t love you, Y/N,” Harry exclaimed.

You were both in Harry’s dorm, everyone having dinner at the Great Hall.

“But it does Harry, it does!” you added. “I understand you’re going through a lot but you’re always rude towards me, you don’t talk to me about anything that is going on and you expect me to know what to say to you, what to do all the goddamn time, I’m done!”

“Fine! We’re done then! Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to bed – you know where to find the door,” he said getting in bed as if you weren’t standing there.

“You’re unbelievable. Good fucking night.” You slammed the door behind you and left to your dorm.

You spent the night crying under the sheets – heartbroken by the person you had loved the most.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

“Y/N the Sopophorus bean shouldn’t be added now,” Hermione told you.

“Huh?” You were too distracted with glancing at Harry that Potions’ class was put on the background.

“Okay, that’s it, you need to stop looking at Harry. In fact, you need to stop everything that includes Harry,” she snapped at you.

You didn’t say anything because you knew it was true.

“It has been a month since you broke up, Y/N. And fine, Ron and I can deal with you both not talking to each other but you need to seriously start moving on.”

“Okay, okay, no need of a lecture.”

“What’s gotten into you today? You’re looking at him more than usual.” Hermione looked at Harry who was also looking at their direction. “And he’s looking at you more than usual.”

“It’s not the time, Hermione. I think Draco can hear us,” you whispered. Draco was always sitting behind you two.

“He’s focused on the potion, he’s not listening. Tell me,” Hermione said, seeing Draco carefully stirring the potion.

“Well, I don’t know if he’s told you, but I know he’s dating someone. I saw them both making out by the lake yesterday.”

Hermione didn’t know what to say.

“But that’s not the worst part. The worst part is who he’s dating,” you continued.

“Who?” Hermione asked, very shocked by the turn of events.

You stared at her before saying it. “Ginny.”

Hermione didn’t say a word, speechless about the confession.

“Yep,” you simply said, going back to the potion in front of you both.

It was a wild twist in the story because Ginny, Hermione and you were very close, and Ginny had been one of the girls that had comforted you since the breakup. The moment you saw both of them snogging you felt like something died within you. Not only because it clearly stated that Harry had moved on from you, but also that one of your best friends had been lying and pretending in front of you for no one knew how long. You hadn’t talked to Ginny and the tension between you and Harry had majorly grown since.

Hermione and you continued to work on the potion, unaware of the fact that Draco had heard every single word of the conversation.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Draco had been in love with you since he set foot at Hogwarts. Long before he knew what love meant and how it felt, he had tried to impress you indirectly, by flying up to the sky with Neville’s personal belongings, by applying for Quidditch’ seeker position, by walking up to Hagrid’s hippogriff and trying to ride it, by facing up Potter when he became a Triwizard champion and had asked you to the Yull Ball and by applying to Umbridge’s little inquisitory group to try and dismantle the order. He did all that for you, and although you were totally unaware of the boy’s feelings, he didn’t know of any other way to get to you. In his mind, you were absolutely unreachable. He was aware of how other boys in class talked about you – because needless to say, you had been categorized as the prettiest girl in class. Draco’s enmity with Harry had developed because of Draco’s jealousy on your relationship with him. You had been a close friend of the chosen one since first year, and even Professors had always thought that you two would make a lovely couple. Draco had had to bear the flirtatious looks of you and Harry during class; how you would clap at him when he was about to catch the snitch during a match; how you would kiss him at the Great Hall during breakfast; how you would both giggle together running through the hallways of the castle; how you would become very worried when Harry was told to face detention by Umbridge. But even if Draco knew that he didn’t really exist for you despite of all his acts, he couldn’t forget about you because you were the only light that he felt he had in his life. The thought of you loving him one day was what kept him living each day that went by. He would constantly daydream about you before bed, during class, in the Slytherin common room, during lunch – he was just so enamored by you. However, deep down he felt like he didn’t deserve you, that was the ultimate reason to why he had never approached you. And all his jealousy, fury and sadness tended to be projected onto Potter, the boy that had conquered your heart.

He had overheard your conversation with Hermione during Potions. He had seen your light diminish since the breakup but the day you had told Hermione you had caught Harry with Ginny, he had seen you at your worst. He couldn’t comprehend how Potter had treated you so poorly during the last year of your relationship and how he could’ve gone behind your back kissing the Weasley girl. He felt so protective over you he decided to confront Harry by the lake, where he knew he could find him snogging with Ginny.

“Potter and a Weasley. Pathetic. Does your brother know about this, red-hair?”

“Malfoy, get the fuck out of here,” said Harry, looking for his wand in his pocket.

“You,” he talked to Ginny. “You should be ashamed of how pathetic you are as a friend. Does Y/L/N know about this?”

Ginny didn’t respond knowing he was right.

“That’s it, septum-” Harry started saying, being interrupted by Draco.

“Expelliermus!” Draco unarmed Harry.

Harry approached Draco and they both started to fight with each other physically. Draco punched Harry on the nose but before he could leave Harry kicked Draco, the latter falling on the ground.

They didn’t stop until they were both incapable of getting up.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

“Will you stop eating?!” asked Hermione to Ron, hitting him with a book. “Your best friend is missing!”

“Oi! Turn around, you lunatic” said Ron, seeing Harry enter the Great Hall.

He sat down in front of Hermione with a bleeding nose and bleeding wounds everywhere.

“Where have you been?” asked Hermione.

“Nowhere,” replied Harry.

You were sitting down a few seats away from the scene, wondering what in the world had happened to Harry. The answer was revealed when a certain bleached one entered the Great Hall, also bleeding.

“What happened Harry? Did you fight with Malfoy?” asked Hermione, having seen the blonde’s entrance.

“He was looking for it,” replied Harry.

Hermione looked over at you worried. You shrugged your shoulders in response. Hermione looked back at Harry.

“Harry, you should report this to Professor McGonagall.”

Harry didn’t reply and kept eating. Hermione looked back at you worried. You mouthed to her “I got this”. You thought Malfoy’s rivalry with Harry had cooled down that year but based on what had happened that afternoon you were worried it had something to do with the conversation you had had with Hermione during Potions’ class, even if you didn’t know why.

Dinner ended and students started to periodically get up from their seats and head towards their common rooms. You waited until Draco got up and followed him through the hallways. When no one was with you two, you called him.

“Malfoy!”

He turned around and looked at you, only to look away and keep walking.

You ran up to him.

“I want to talk to you,” you said.

“Why?” he replied, still not looking at you and walking straight.

“Can we stop for a second and talk? I can’t keep up your pace.”

He stopped and looked at you annoyed.

“What?” he repeated.

“I know you got into a fight with Harry.”

He rolled his eyes and kept walking.

“What happened, exactly?” you asked, running after him.

He didn’t reply.

“Draco!”

He stopped when you said his name.

“Why do you wanna know, Y/L/N?”

“I know you two were leaving each other alone until today. I wanna know why you fought.”

“Why don’t you ask your boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend anymore. We don’t talk.”

“That’s not my fucking problem,” he replied.

“Did you hear anything I told Hermione during Potions?”

Draco startled but tried to hide it. You still noticed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied.

“Then why did you two fight?”

“I’m getting bored of this conversation already.” He kept walking.

“Fine, just so you know, if you did it for what I said during Potions class, that was not the way to go,” you said, still standing up. He kept walking. “But thank you nonetheless.”

He kept walking, still having heard your words. A smirk got on his face as he walked towards his common room.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

A week later, you were eating in the Great Hall with Hermione.

“Have you already confronted Ginny about the whole thing?” Hermione asked you.

“No, not yet, have you?”

“Of course not, I don’t wanna get mingled,” she replied.

You looked up and saw Draco walking through the corridor. His eyes met yours as he sat down for lunch.

“How could Harry be so insensitive? And how come Ginny never talked to you before anything happened?” Hermione was still ranting about it – your gaze was still on Draco, as was his.

You didn’t know what had exactly changed since the day you talked to him but suddenly his eyes were speaking to you and you found yourself intrigued by his presence.

He looked away from you and focused on what his friend was telling him.

You engaged in conversation with Hermione.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

You were studying for a Transfiguration test out on the grass field. You were trying to turn a cup into a flower but the more you tried, the less it seemed to work. You knew that you needed to have a calmed mind in order to work but you couldn’t stop overthinking Harry’s thing with Ginny and your encounter with Malfoy.

In the distance, you saw Draco walking down gripping on some books. He saw you studying but quickly looked away. You debated in your head whether you should go up to him but you thought you’d look stupid without having anything to say, so you decided not to.

You noticed another boy was also looking at you. He came towards you.

“Hi, Y/N” Harry said.

“Hey, Harry” you replied, without looking at him.

“Hum… I just came to apologize,” he mumbled.

“For what?” you asked.

“You know for what,” he replied.

“There’s nothing to apologize for, Harry. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to study.”

“Always making things so difficult, I’m trying to do the right thing here,” he finally said, getting pissed.

“Are you though? Because as far as I know the right thing had to be done months ago, now it’s not the time Harry!”

“You don’t know what I’ve had to bear with-”

“You never bothered to share it with me in the first place!”

“It’s not that simple Y/N.”

“Nothing is ever simple with you Harry.”

“Hasn’t she told you to go, Potter?” Draco appeared behind Harry.

Harry turned around. “What do you want, Malfoy?”

“I have a pending conversation with Y/L/N. Besides, this is not your yard, scar head.”

“Whatever,” Harry looked back at you. “Enjoy your time with Malfoy.” He left.

“What was that for?” you asked Draco.

“He was being a git, can’t bare it.”

You stayed in silence and looked at his books. “You wanna… perhaps… study with me?”

He looked at you for a few seconds. “I’m good.” He also left.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

It was one a.m. at night – you couldn’t sleep, your mind going back to different moments of the last few months. You decided to get up and head to the kitchen. You had befriended some of the elves and as they were cleaning up maybe they could give you a cup of hot milk. You went down the stairs, exited the common room and walked through the hallways. While you were walking, someone carrying a torch approached you.

“What are you doing here?” Malfoy was standing in front of you.

“I could ask you the same thing,” you replied, still bothered he ditched you the other day.

“I am patrolling. I am a prefect,” he replied.

Right. You had forgotten about that. “I was just going to get a glass of milk.”

“Where?”

“To the kitchen,” you simply replied.

“Students don’t go to the kitchen. Especially at this time of the night,” Draco said, with disgust on his face.

“Draco, I just want a glass of milk. I can’t sleep,” you tried to convince him.

“You’re not going to the kitchen, Y/L/N,” he directly said. “Don’t make me give you detention.”

“Fine,” you replied, turning around. “Thanks for your help, Malfoy.”

“Anytime Y/L/N,” he replied.

When you had left his sight, you turned to another corridor that also led to the kitchen. You were going down the stairs when suddenly you heard a voice behind you.

“Do you think I’m stupid or what?” Draco snapped at you.

“I’m going to bed!” you lied.

“That’s not the way to your bed, Y/N/L, unless you’re sleeping in the Slytherin dorms – which you’re not.”

“Who says I’m not?” you teased.

Draco looked at you being fed up.

“You’re not a Slytherin.”

“That doesn’t matter. I can still sleep there.”

“Where exactly?”

“That’s none of your business,” you replied.

“It is because you’re lurking in the hallway at one fucking a.m. in the morning!”

“You told me to go to bed, I’m going to bed!” you replied, slightly having fun with the conversation.

“That’s not the way to your bed!”

“I’m sleeping with someone!”

“Who?” he asked.

“A Slytherin,” you replied.

“Who?” he repeated.

“You don’t know him.”

“Oh, I can assure you if he’s a Slytherin I do know him.”

“His name is Tom.” You couldn’t think of any other name.

“Well, either way, I’m not letting you go sleep in someone else’s room.”

“But I won’t tell, I swear.”

“You just want your glass of milk and you’ve made up a whole story to convince me,” he ended up saying.

“Please Draco, I’m really thirsty.”

He sighed. “I am going with you then. If you get on my nerves I’m calling Snape, Y/L/N. And don’t lie to me again,” he finally said, giving up.

“Thank you Draco, really appreciate it.”

He went down the stairs with you, and headed towards the kitchen. The elves had already left.

“Alright, go grab the milk and we go,” he said, leaning over the counter.

You started looking for the milk in different cupboards until you found it. You grabbed a cup and poured yourself some milk.

“Don’t you have to patrol with Pansy?” you asked him.

“Why are you asking questions?”

“I’m curious. I thought you had to patrol with another prefect,” you replied.

“Well yeah, but it doesn’t necessarily have to be the one in the same house as you. I’m patrolling with Weasley tonight but each of us go our separate ways.”

“I didn’t know Ron was patrolling tonight,” you added, realizing how long it had been since you had talked to Ron after the incident with Harry.

“I assume you’re still not talking to Potter,” he added.

“Nope. Not missing it either.”

“I have to ask, how is that you dated him? What did you see in him?” Well, that was an interesting question coming from Malfoy. “I can’t imagine dating someone like Potter, what a twat.”

“Well, I fell in love, I guess. I mean, he’s good looking, brave, passionate-”

Draco laughed. “Pff, sure thing.”

“And why is that you two hate each other so much?” you asked him in return.

“He’s always going around as if the world belongs to him for being the chosen one.”

“Don’t you do the same though?” you asked.

He startled. “No, I’m the one who puts him on his place.”

“He could say the same about you,” you added.

“What are you guys talking about?” Ron appeared in the kitchen. “I heard some noises, I thought they were first years out of bed.”

“Just came down to the kitchen to give Y/L/N some milk, she couldn’t sleep.”

“Since when do you do that for anyone, Malfoy?” asked Ron.

“I’ll suggest you keep your mouth shut, Weaslebee,” he replied.

“Well, I’m done here guys, so if you’ll excuse me I’ll go to bed now.”

“Go with her, I don’t trust her a bit,” Draco said to Ron.

“Good night Draco,” you said to him before leaving.

“Whatever,” he replied.

Once you were out of sight, he let himself relax again. Even if he showed the opposite, that had been one the best moments he had experienced in at least the last year.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

It was Christmas break, you were in the Hogwarts Express to go back home. You were sitting in a wagon with Hermione talking to you about the past exams but all you could think about was Draco. You were constantly replaying in your mind what happened in the hallways at night when you two bumped into each other and you were slightly convinced he also had a crush on you by the way he acted. The urge to see him was so intense that you told Hermione you were going to buy something to eat and left the wagon.

You went to the Slytherin wagon and found him sitting down with Blaise and Pansy, two of his friends. You walked through the corridor to the other side of the wagon, peripherally having a look at him. You noticed he was also looking at you.

“This is not your wagon, Gryffindork” Pansy told you as you were passing.

“I’m just passing through,” you replied.

“Right.”

You hoped that Draco would say something but nothing came out of his mouth. You turned back and left the wagon.

What a prick. After all, he was still a pureblood Slytherin, and one of the worst kind, what were you thinking?

You went back to your wagon.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

It was the day that students came back from Christmas break to Hogwarts. You had spent a lovely holiday with your family and you felt ready to face whatever was about to happen. Whatever except for what happened.

“Y/N, I miss you.” Harry was standing in front of you in the hallway.

“What?” you replied.

“I’ve been giving our situation some thought and realized I acted as a prick with you and wanted to amend things.”

“Aren’t you with Ginny?”

“We haven’t talked during the break,” he replied.

“Well, I’m not some kind of rebound, Harry.”

“No, of course not. That’s not what I meant.”

“Besides, I like someone else now.” It was painful to say but it was true. You were over the hills for a certain blonde.

“Who?” he asked.

“It’s none of your business, Harry.”

“Y/N, we can work it out.”

“No, we can’t. We’re done Harry, you need to move on.”

He stood up as you left. The whole situation had given you a sense of control that had made you feeling unstoppable. You felt this urge of confessing, for some odd reason. It had felt to so good to state out loud what you felt for Draco that now the only person that was left to tell was him. You didn’t really think of what his reaction could be, you just wanted to spread the word to him.

You roamed in the hallways looking for his face until minutes later you spotted him with Blaise and Pansy. You walked up to him.

“Malfoy.”

Pansy and Blaise, as well as Draco, looked surprise.

“What?” he replied.

“Can I talk to you, in private?” Blaise and Pansy looked at each other, confused.

Draco just sighed and stood up – both of you going to a quieter and more intimate place.

“What’s going on Y/L/N?” he asked you.

“Okay, so I’m about to say something to you. I don’t know how you’re going to feel about it, but I’m still taking the risk. Trust me, this comes as a surprise to me as well as it will come to you.”

“Alright,” he replied. “What is it?”

You sighed, your heartbeat being all over the moon.

“I like you, Draco.”

“What?” he said.

“I like you.”

“I heard you, but what does that mean?”

You started to feel the regret coming.

“I might have a crush on you.”

“You have a crush on me?” he repeated.

“That’s what I said, yep.”

“Alright.”

You stood in silence. “Alright?”

“Yeah, what do you expect me to say?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know.”

“Well, thank you for telling me. I’m going then.”

“Okay, see you.”

“Bye.”

You stood up there not understanding what had just happened.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

A month went by and you hadn’t talked to Draco again. You felt so ashamed about confessing to him that you had tried to avoid him at any cost. He had left you so pathetically that you couldn’t bare the thought of him knowing what you felt. It was eating you inside. You hadn’t told Hermione about the situation. Instead, you might’ve agreed on going out with Harry again. You just needed to show Draco (and yourself) that you weren’t desperately crying in a corner about what happened.

You started then dating Harry again.

You were walking down a hallway when you found yourself facing Draco. You looked down hoping to avoid him.

“Y/L/N,” he said to you.

“What?”

“Hadn’t seen you in a while, where have you been?”

“Around,” you replied.

“I’ve seen you’ve got back with scarhead.”

“Yeah.”

“I thought that was over for you.”

“Well, it’s clearly not,” you replied.

“Good,” he said.

You wanted to die at that exact moment. “Goodbye Malfoy.”

You left withholding some tears.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

It had been two months since the last time you had spoken to Draco. You were still dating Harry, trying to go back to how it used to be but things had profoundly changed within you. Your heart belonged to someone else.

You had gone to Hogsmeade to clear your thoughts. You were walking around the different stores and pubs until you saw Draco talking to Pansy in front of the Three Broomsticks. Something pounded in your heart when you saw how close they were. He saw you walking but didn’t engage in conversation.

An hour later you were tired of walking around and you were going back to the castle until someone stop you halfway.

“Y/L/N!” You turned around and saw Draco walking up to you. “What’s up?”

“Hi,” you replied.

“Enjoying the day?”

“Fairly,” you replied.

“You came alone? Where’s the funny trio?”

“I don’t know.”

“Not even the boyfriend came?”

“Do you see Harry anywhere nearby?” you snapped.

“Merlin, what has gotten into you?”

“Nothing.” You kept walking.

“Tell me, I’m curious.”

“I said nothing, Malfoy.”

He remained silent for a bit. “Is it because of what you told me a few months ago?”

“What did I tell you?”

“That you liked me.”

“Whatever,” you replied.

“You’re with Potter now, everything is fine, isn’t it?” he kept going.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Malfoy.”

“I mean, you were the one that got back with Potter, I don’t know what I’ve done in the story.”

“I said drop it,” you replied.

“Alright, alright,” he said, still walking by your side. “But if you want to tell me something, just say it.

You snapped. “Oh, so you’re expecting that I smile and laugh with you after I told you that I liked you and you literally left me standing there?”

“What did you want me to say? Besides, you got back with Potter!”

“You could’ve handled things differently!”

“Like how?”

“Like talking to me about how you felt, even if it was not reciprocated.”

“You didn’t ask me, you just told me you liked me, what do you answer to that?”

“You say something, you do something, for Merlin’s beard!” you exclaimed.

“Well now you’re with Potter, right?”

You didn’t answer.

“Because if you’re not, maybe we can talk about it.”

“Talk about what?” you asked.

“About us.”

Something lit up in you.

“What is it with us?”

“I don’t know, what do you want it to be?”

“Draco, stop asking me abstract questions.”

“I might want something with you, Y/N.”

You stopped and looked at him. “Something like what?”

“Like maybe dating, if that’s what you want.”

“You want to date me? Do you like me?”

“If I’m asking you to date me it’s because I like you, Y/N.”

“Since when?” you asked.

“I don’t really know.” He did know though, since you had said your first words in class almost.

“Are you sure about this?”

“Yes, why would I be fooling you?”

“I don’t know Draco, I don’t know.”

He got closer to you.

“So, what are you gonna do? Are you gonna date me or stay with Potter?”

You looked at him, he was partly smiling. You thought he was looking gorgeous.

“I like you, it’s not working between Harry and I,” you ended up saying.

“So you’re gonna break up with him?” he asked.

“Yes.” He couldn’t stop himself from smiling. He took both your hands and rubbed his thumb, caressing your fingers.

“I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time,” he said.

“Why didn’t you?”

“I never thought you felt the same.”

“But I told you I did.”

“I was too scared. Besides, you got with Potter so I thought you were in love with him.”

“Right, I’m not.”

He got closer to you, his lips approaching yours as he placed a short peck on them.

You laughed.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing,” you replied.

“Right.”

And that’s how you both went back to the castle, both your hands tangled with one another.

#draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy smut #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #hogwarts imagine

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matrixbearer2024 · 3 months

Text

Blips In My Routine

Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader

A/N: A slight interlude in the "Get Off My Screen!" Series to keep you guys entertained while I write it's continuation. I apologize that it's taking so long! School's kind of been kicking my ass recently and I've had to focus more on work than my fanfics. Don't worry though, I'll still be writing more Vox content(Lord knows we don't have enough /j) as long as you guys want to see it!

A/N: I love 🥭 Anon's idea and tbh I don't put it beyond Vox to do it either, I'm not sure if this is as good as the other installments but I hope you guys enjoy it nonetheless. Btw, reader is in college so she's somewhere in her mid to late twenties. Happy reading!

You glanced at the ticking clock above the whiteboard.

It was just five more minutes before the bell would ring and free you from this boring lecture.

You fought to keep your eyes open as your gaze wandered back to the teacher's PowerPoint.

You hated this subject the most, not even because of the topic itself.

Rather, the professor could be kind of an old-timey asshole.

Thankfully though, it wasn't all that bad.

Not when you had to deal with an equally irritating digital companion anyhow.

Somehow you'd rather take Vox's bullshit over your professor's-

Speaking of, you both had fallen into a somewhat odd routine in the following months.

From greeting each other when you woke up or went to sleep-

To checking up on the other every so often within the day.

Not to mention spilling gossip when anything remotely interesting happened.

Either on his end or yours.

Like that time you saw someone's skirt snag in their locker door and just rip.

You could only snicker at their panic and shame.

The bitch highkey deserved it anyway.

Vox couldn't stop laughing when you eagerly told him all about it.

He knew you could be vicious if you wanted to.

Even if he was aware how much more inherently kind you were compared to the likes of him.

Sometimes the fact you found his companionship worth maintaining-

Or at least tolerable enough to keep-

Genuinely surprised the tech overlord.

Especially because you'd both been communicating for a little over a year by now.

It was nice interacting with someone else that weren't Velvette or Valentino.

Not that he'd ever openly admit to it.

It wasn't like Vox hadn't seen or heard you either, despite the fact he couldn't directly mess with the microphone or camera on your devices.

Your photos and files had more than enough stuff.

You often left him imagining your reactions and voice whenever the both of you chatted.

After all, most of your interactions were practically texting.

Sometimes you even wondered if Vox was constantly bored to end up finding companionship with you.

Or maybe he was lonely, who knows.

You genuinely couldn't be fucked.

He was an interesting guy and that was all that kind of mattered to you at the moment.

Your notepad window popping up snapped you out of that train of thought.

Glancing over at your laptop screen, the small desktop pet Vox gave you merely sat in the corner pointing at the notepad.

Oh it could do angry emotes too-

A slurry of words started pouring into the blank open text window, you figured Vox was probably having another shitty day.

Geez, who would've thought that hell would actually be absolutely crappy?

Well, let's see what he's complaining about this time...

This man was really typing way faster than you could read-

You were able to garner pretty quick what he was bitching about though.

Even if you kind of found the source of his irritation quite childish and kinda stupid.

"It's so dumb! The fact I can only talk to you with this goddamn thing is driving me insane!"

"Aaaand? What's wrong with the notepad? You also have the desktop companion."

You definitely started calling it that only because Vox was getting pissy that you were referring to it as a 'pet'-

"It can only do so much dollface, it's just glorified texting at this point. Besides, the tiny version of me is just an animated emoji keyboard."

"Well you already mess with my software regardless of what I tell you, what's stopping the great 'Technology Overlord' from hacking my camera and microphone?"

"Haha, very funny doll. Don't you think I would've done it already if I could?"

At this point you kinda just wanted to laugh at the whole situation.

Vox, a demon, one who could control electronics to his every whim-

Or so he claims.

Was being pissy about not being able to talk to you properly.

You couldn't tell if that was supposed to be endearing or hilarious.

He always got worked up over the smallest inconveniences.

You saw it as him being just very observant-

But it could also highkey be from his captain control freak tendencies.

"Then just make an app or something, you'll figure it out. Mess with the software settings or whatever."

That was the last message you wrote before the school bell suddenly rang out loud and clear.

You didn't even read his reply before shutting your laptop down and arranging your belongings.

Soon enough, you were the first one out of the classroom and more than ready to go home.

Vox knew you'd shut down your laptop after he got hit with his custom Voxtech screensaver.

Similarly to the wallpaper, he'd changed your screensaver to something more on brand.

While he did take your suggestion into account, a part of him wondered why he didn't bother trying in the first place.

But given the issues with him trying to access the built-in camera and microphone-

Vox felt a little concerned that modifying your devices too much could corrupt them.

That alongside all of your files and the data you had stored.

Wait...

Concern?!

He didn't actually care about your shit did he?

Oh fuck it!

He'll do whatever he wants to!

He was still careful not to really change much, he knows how annoying file corruption is and he didn't want to actually damage your data in case it had stuff you needed.

You weren't surprised that he'd taken your words literally-

You noticed a peculiar looking app appeared on all of your devices when you had arrived home.

That's a really fancy looking V design, was this Vox's doing?

Upon opening the app, you were greeted to a slightly odd looking interface.

It looked kind of like a more... sci-fi-esque styled chat room?

You wanted to say it lowkey looked like an Omegle room-

Before you could really nitpick at the design though, a text notification popped up on your phone.

You had just set everything up too, it seems like it came from the new app.

"Testing, testing. Are you getting this (Y/N)?"

To say you were amazed at what Vox had done was an understatement.

He was able to do so much in just so little time-

Just- how???

Oh, right- you should probably reply to that-

"Yeah yeah, I gotchu."

"Fucking finally! Working around your firewalls and antivirus was an absolute nightmare!"

Aaaaaaaand here came the usual ranting and bitching-

You just threw your phone on the bed and left to take a shower and freshen up while he kept at it.

Vox was actually quite proud he got the app to work.

Especially without affecting the existing system on your computer much.

If anything, it wasn't any different from the games or social media applications that already existed on your computer.

Granted, when he first booted the app to try it- the darn thing kept crashing and glitching.

But that was easily and swiftly dealt with.

Well, after much frustration and screaming but yes- taken care of.

By the time you came back, you saw an animated version of your wallpaper appear windowed in the app.

Right... that was supposed to be his face.

"Hello? (Y/N)? Can you hear me?"

What-

What the fucking FUCK-

Apparently, the thing you thought that was just a gif or an emoticon was actually a livestream of Vox's face.

And that was how he sounded like?

Okay that seemed pretty on brand for a telecasting television now that you think about it-

But how the hell did he manage to do this-

"Vox?! What the hell!"

You yelled out in retaliation, only growing more confused when Vox didn't reply or just kept repeating if you could hear him.

So he couldn't hear you, but he found a way to sort of project himself into your device.

What kind of upside-down thing is this?

Picking up the phone, you quickly used the chat-box to reply.

"I can hear you, but I don't think you can hear me?"

Vox just audibly cursed from what you could guess was frustration, staying silent and presumably typing out a reply.

Just how long had he been trying to fix this problem?

"I can't access your cameras or microphone whatever I do dollface, this was my last resort."

Seeing his live reactions allowed you to notice the genuine frustration and exasperation he had with the situation.

It kind of made you feel a little guilty for just brushing him off all the time now.

You always thought it was quite... old-timey for Vox to want to talk to you face to face.

Hold a "proper" conversation as he put it.

But maybe that was just because he grew that fond of your company.

Geez, what a sap.

"It's fine dude, I'm glad you made a specially designated space for our conversations though. My notes were starting to get cluttered with our conversations stuck in there with my school stuff anyway."

You could swear the small smile you saw on his face made saying all that worth it.

There really wasn't any reason for you two to switch mediums, but the new app wasn't unwelcome.

You were really starting to care more about this dumb TV head.

As you and Vox went back into comfortable regular conversation, you found solace as both you and your companion once again fell back into the odd routine you grew used to.

Come morning however, you were seriously reconsidering giving Vox the idea about making that custom application.

It was a stupidly large can of worms that you didn't even realize existed-

Notification after notification, you wondered just how much time the technology demon had on his hands to constantly bother you.

"Vox, I know you're happy about your app but can you stop spam sending me memes for five seconds?"

"Eh, not feeling it."

"Go to hell you dumb picturebox."

"Already here dollface, already here."

You facepalmed.

What an idiot.

Well, he was your idiot.

A/N: I'm leaning towards this being more than a just friends thing, dunno if I'll make it romantic or not in the continuation but I'd reckon that Vox and reader would get pretty close by now sooooo hahaha have fun y'all :D

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #vox #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin vox x reader #vox x you #x reader #Get Off My Screen Series

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headcanonenthusiast · 4 months

Text

Valeria Garza NSFW headcanons.

This was made with fem readers in mind.

Also quick note, I apologize in advance if this isn't as detailed as my headcanons on some other characters. It was definitely harder for me to come up w/ stuff for Val, especially bc girlie is nowhere near one of my favorites (I'm sorry 😔) but what better way to expand on writing then doing headcanons of characters you rarely think about? So, without further ado, I hope you enjoy!

(I completely understand that this type of content is not everyone's cup of tea, and that's ok! But, please scroll and ignore if this type of content isn't your thing as opposed to leaving any sort of negative comments.)

NSFW under the cut.

-THE brat tamer.

-Absolutely will not take your shit if you disobey her in any way, shape or form.

-"What did you just say to me? Do you have any idea who you're talking to?"

-Gets this look of absolute disbelief on her face if you dare to act like a brat, then her eyes turn dark and she's suddenly dragging you to bed.

-"I'm the woman who decides whether or not you get to cum every night, querida. And if you're gonna keep acting like a fucking brat, then it looks like you won't get to cum for the rest of the week."

-Her favorite forms of punishment include anything to do with orgasms. Whether it be edging you, overstimulating you or even denying you the right to cum entirely, she loves making you squirm and beg to release.

-Shakes her head and clicks her tongue, as if you begging to cum is the most ridiculous thing she's ever heard after you've misbehaved.

-"Oh, so now you're sorry? Chica, a sorry isn't going to cut it. I warned you about acting like a little brat, but you didn't listen. You never fucking listen to me."

-Proceeds to lecture you and switch between degrading you in English and Spanish as she either forces a strap down your throat or harshly plays with your clit.

-"Perra estúpida. Never listening to me and then acting surprised when I don't let you cum."

-Will also partake in bondage, cuffing up your wrists to the headboard before she runs a vibrator painfully slow over your pussy.

-As rough as she is when it comes to sex, if you're genuinely feeling upset about something, her gaze will turn more sympathetic (which she refuses to show to anyone besides you.)

-"What? What's wrong, amor?"

-And you're welcome to tell her about all of your troubles while she gently eats you out.

-Probably has multiple straps. Prefers buying the thickest one possible but she does have one that's much longer for when you really piss her off.

-Is very willing to spoil you with new sex toys and lingerie. Anything to make her pretty girl happy.

-Also, I feel like she'd switch between wanting to see you touch yourself and not letting you at all.

-When she's not there with you, she probably encourages you to masterbate and send her tons of videos of you doing so.

-But, if she's actually there and catches you touching yourself, it won't be pretty.

-"Oh, can I not satisfy you enough anymore? Is that it?"

-Then she fingers you so well your legs are shaking as she rants.

-"Look at you, cumming just from my fingers. What a slut."

-"And you really thought you could make yourself cum the same way I do? No, no, estás loca por pensar eso, querida."

-She wants anything sexual to be completely dependent on either her or toys she picks out for you.

-In other words, very dominant.

-In other other words, if you ever asked or God forbid tried to make her submit, you're a dead woman.

-"Thats it. You're getting too fucking bratty for your own good. Get over my Goddamn lap right now if you know what's good for you."

-And when you are on her lap, she'll switch between spanking your ass and spanking your pussy.

-Leaves hickeys on the most visible spots on purpose.

-Smirks when you get all shy about it, gently brushing your hair away as she chuckles.

-"Don't worry, amor. I won't make the marks too visible."

-But then she does, so she buys you the prettiest necklace with her name engraved on it as an apology, and another reminder of who you belong you.

-Some translations for the Spanish stuff, chica = girl, querida = darling, perra estúpida = stupid bitch, amor = love and "no, no, estás loca por pensar eso, querida" = no, no, you're crazy for thinking that, darling.

(Also I apologize if anything in Spanish is incorrect, online translators can only get you so far 😕)

Look at me go, writing about a character I don't even like and am not even attracted to because I'm straighter than a wooden ruler 🙃

This was honestly fun to write though! Valeria takes up like 0% of my thinking space, so coming up w/ headcanons for her when I barely remember she exists nor am attracted to her at all was a bit more challenging. Hoping y'all enjoyed this!

Rudy NSFW headcanons r coming up next, so be sure to lookout for those in the near future 🤭

#valeria garza x reader #valeria garza x fem!reader #valeria garza cod #valeria garza #valeria cod #valeria call of duty #valeria garza x you #valeria x reader #valeria mw2 #cod smut #cod x reader #call of duty #valeria headcanons #headcanon #nsfw.#i'm a disappointment to my parents

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lovingache · 13 days

Text

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤.

𝐭. 𝐤𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐲𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 summary: “𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐬𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐝. 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬, 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤.” warnings: 18+ only, minors do not interact! | aged up!haikyu verse (karasuno is a university), no y/n, raw piv sex, d/s dynamics (dom!kageyama, sub!reader), teasing, he spanks you like once, hair pulling, praise— he talks a lot in this lol, possessiveness, porn with a hint of plot names used: angel, good girl, precious girl, baby, tutor, word count: 2.2k a/n: oh boy, this one really got away from me in a lot of ways. i had the idea that we’d just follow tobio and reader on their first tutoring session and it’d be some sort of hot, sweet encounter but the idea of immediately jumping into things was too fun to let go. plus, it gave me an excuse to skip the whole "getting to know tobio" bit and save some time. i still may do the first encounter if people are interested but yeah— have fun!

You whine as he thrusts deep inside you again, the loud squelch filling the small study room obscenely as he bends you over the table. “T-Tobio, fuck.” The table creaks in time with his thrusts, and you feel your cheeks heat as you hear the noise.

He grunts as he hears the sweet noises you make and grips your hips so hard you know there’ll be bruises the next day. “I know, angel. I know I’m big. Just, fuck— just take it, okay?” He mutters, voice husky and dripping with his evident arousal. He groans as he feels you twitch around him, your already tight heat gripping him even more, and has to bite a knuckle to make sure he doesn’t fucking cum instantly.

He loves this moment, when you go from the strict tutor making sure he’s on top of his essays for this goddamn course, to his sweet toy. If he knew tutoring with you would be like this, he would’ve begged you long ago.

He leans forward, taking your hair in one hand and circling your neck with his other, and yanks you up to whisper into your ear, “Christ, you are just so reactive, aren’t you? So good at taking my cock. You’re such a good girl for me, for letting me have this. Fuck,” His voice is laced with a mix of adoration and hunger as he watches you with a keen eye, drawing back to fuck into you with deep, hard strokes. "So sweet for letting me fuck this tight, wet pussy," he drawls as he times his thrusts to punctuate his words.

He knew you well enough to realize that you rarely let yourself be vulnerable with anyone, let alone this exposed, gasping and moaning as he drives his cock in and out of you. It’s what attracted him to you to begin with and called him to sit beside you the first day he walked into that lecture hall. He knew the feeling too well and, ever since you agreed to be his tutor, he was determined to wring out every last aching drop of vulnerability from you.

Another whine escapes you as he runs his teeth over the shell of your ear. He’s fucking you in earnest now, the room feeling impossibly hot as the only sounds that you can register are of skin slapping on skin, his growled words, and your whimpers. You tighten around him as he hits a particular spot relentlessly, forcing out needy moans from you, and he chuckles.

"You're gonna cum, aren't you?" He grunts, his voice low and rough as he keeps his pace. "You're so, fuck," He's cut off as you clench around him again, his voice drawing out the reaction from your body almost instinctively. "So fucking cute. Such a good tutor. Such a good fucking girl," He mutters, the pleased undertone clear as he grips your hips again and watches you claw at the table as you careen toward your orgasm.

"Want you moaning my fucking name when you cum," He says, slow and deliberate, as he hits the same spot repeatedly. "Want the people outside this building to know my name by the time I'm done with you, angel," He rasps as he slaps your ass, the sharp sting only bringing you closer to the edge.

"Fuck, fuck— Tobio," You mewl, your voice ragged and pathetic, and it makes him chuckle. "Tobio, 'm gonna cum, fuck. Tobio, please!" You beg, and he smiles, pleased with your desperation.

"Aw, asking for permission? That's so sweet. We haven't even talked about that yet. I guess you just love it when I use you like this, huh?" He coos, his voice dripping with condescension, and he doesn't let up his pace as you stay on the edge— so close to teetering over.

He hums. "I guess you have been a good girl and helped me get my grades up. Tell me, princess, do you think you deserve to cum on my cock?" He asks, leaning into the control you've so effortlessly given him. It pisses you off how put together he still sounds.

"Y-Yes, please," You cry, babbling nonsense as he keeps you still. "Please, please, Tobio," you beg, desperate and aching for release as he circles your clit with one hand. Your body's on fire, and your legs start to shake from holding back. "Please," you whisper.

"Shh, shh, it's okay, angel," He says, his satisfaction leaking from his words. "It's okay." He lowers himself down, chest flush with your back, "You can cum. Go ahead. You can do that for me, right?" He whispers as he sucks a mark into your neck.

Your legs nearly give out from the relief you feel hearing him permit you to cum, gasping as your eyes flutter and your orgasm tears through you, "Fuck! Oh my fucking god."

He groans as he feels you clench around him, muttering your name as he fucks you through your orgasm steadily. He turns your head so he can kiss you; the feel of his tongue searing into you is intoxicating even in the state you're in, and you sigh. He pulls away only slightly and chuckles, "Not god, angel. Tobio. You know the rules. You need to say my name, or I'll stop fucking you."

You repeat his name as the aftershocks of the orgasm ripple through you, and he responds with a pleased hum. You whine as he pulls out of you before flipping you over onto the table, his eyes raking over your body as if it were the first and last time he'd ever get to see you like this. He strokes himself in front of you, a cocky smirk tracing its way across his face as he lines himself up with you again, the head of his cock teasing your throbbing clit. "Aw, it's okay, angel. Here, I'll put it back in since you're so needy for it," he grunts as he shoves himself inside you again, savouring the mewl you let out as he hits an even deeper spot inside you.

It’s been a few weeks of this since Tobio begged you to tutor him. At first, you weren’t too sure about helping him since you only knew him as your constantly late-for-class desk mate, but the way his voice sounded, the set of his eyebrows, and the intensity of his gaze on you as he asked convinced you otherwise.

It started innocently enough with the two of you meeting for late-night sessions to accommodate his hectic volleyball schedule. It took a lot of work to convince the library to let you book a room so late when no other staff would be present to supervise, but your reputation as a stellar student helped secure a study room.

For the first few weeks, it was standard tutoring, all above board (and above the belt), but you could tell he was getting bored doing the same routine over and over: readings, summary, thesis development, and essay writing. You felt bad for him, knowing he was already outside his comfort zone, and wanted to find a way to make things more exciting.

“Tobio, I was thinking,” You propose one night. “Maybe we should integrate some sort of reward system. You’ve been keeping up the past few weeks, but I want to help you do well in this class— not just scrape by. What do you think would motivate you?” You ask, cocking your head to the side as you sit beside him.

You knew you were in trouble when his face went from his usual stern expression to a sly grin. “Well, now that you mention it…” He starts, gauging your expressions as he proposes a kiss each time he gets above 80% on his essays. He relishes how your eyes widen slightly, noting the immediate blush on your cheeks as you stutter beneath his gaze.

“I-I don’t—” You start to say, but he cuts you off.

“You don’t think I notice the way you look at me? How you stare at my hands when I’m writing something?” He taunts, a smirk resting on his face.

He leans in closer, your breaths mingling from your proximity, and you can smell his cologne mixed with the scent of his skin—warm and inviting, unlike his calculating image. “You mean to tell me you haven’t noticed how I look at you?” he whispers, his eyes challenging you to deny the simple fact that you were both attracted to each other.

He brushes a stray strand of your hair, and you shiver as he says your name, low and steady. “You can’t lie to me. I can read you like a book,” he murmurs, his eyes filled with equal parts desire and adoration.

That’s how you ended up in this situation week after week, gasping and groaning underneath him. His grades, to your absolute delight and his sly satisfaction, have taken a sharp turn and improved—so much that even your professor commended the two of you for your “steadfast partnership.”

He holds your face with one hand while keeping your legs spread with the other, calling you back to the moment. “Is my baby already fucked out of her mind? C’mon, angel,” he murmurs, eyeing the blooming mark on your neck as he thrusts into you even deeper as if punctuating his statement. “Can’t get cockdrunk already, precious girl. I’m not nearly done with you yet," he says as he leans in close and sucks another mark on your neck above the first one, and his eyes gleam with satisfaction as you roll your head to the side to give him better access.

He pulls back with a muttered "Good girl," as he trails the hand that was on your face down to your chest, palming at the soft flesh there and pinching your hardened nipples before snaking his hand underneath your shirt, hissing as he grabs handfuls of you. “Fuck,” he groans. “You feel so fucking good in my hands.”

He pushes the shirt up and over you, throwing it to the side where he threw your skirt earlier, as he undresses you completely. "So pretty, angel. Such a pretty girl. All for me, right?" He asks though it doesn't sound like a question as his eyes flutter.

You nod, "Y-Yes, Tobio. All for you, only for you," and, fuck, if that doesn't just get him so fucking close. The way you're lying down, spread open for him, repeating that you're only his and his alone, makes him fold your legs up to your chest as he plows into you even deeper.

"Fuck, yes. Only for me, always," he grunts, his cock moving in and out of you mercilessly as he chases his own high. "Tell me again, angel, fuck— tell me you want me to cum inside of you," he says, voice hoarse with need as his hips start to stutter.

"Yes, please, Tobio. Want you, only you. Want you to cum inside of me, please? I need it deep inside of me so bad," You whine helplessly as he circles your clit again, the overstimulation causing you to shake beneath him as he forces you to the edge with him.

"Such a good girl," he whispers, and you can tell he's close. "Such a good fucking girl. You're gonna cum for me again," he says, demanding another orgasm from you. "You're gonna cum then I'm gonna pump you full of my cum, you understand me?" he asks as his thrusts become more erratic, fingers circling you even faster.

You nod, breathless, as you feel yourself get close again, and you grip onto him as you cum, back arching off of the table as you hear him groan your name from above. He thrusts one last time, deep and hard as he cums, holding you still and open as you shiver feeling his warmth seep into you.

He kisses you softly then, his hand cradling your face like it's the most precious thing in the world and your heart flutters despite your blissed-out state. He takes a deep breath before pulling away, touching your forehead with his, "You did so well. Such a good girl for me for taking that so well. Are you okay? How are you feeling?"

You hum as you run your hand through his hair, the afterglow hitting you hard. "'m great, Tobio, don't worry. You didn't go too hard or anything. I told you, I'd tell you if it was too much," you reply, watching as his eyes relax with relief.

"I know, I know," he murmurs, placing soft kisses on your lips. "Just.. I can get carried away. I can be too intense sometimes," he admits as he pulls out of you and helps you get dressed, his hands so gentle and delicate with you now.

You snort, "Sometimes? Try all the time, Kageyama." You tease him, and he can't help but laugh with you.

"Alright, alright, all the time," he concedes, picking up the scattered pens, pencils, and notebooks on the ground before placing them on the table.

He watches you keenly as you sit beside him, shivering still from what's just happened, and smiles as he puts an arm over your shoulders and hugs you close to him. He kisses your forehead with a satisfied hum.

"So that's my reward for getting 100%, huh?"

likes and reblogs are appreciated! ♡

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