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dhoranbolt · 3 months

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Devilish

a/n: Happy (late) Valentine's! I suck at time management this was supposed to be out like a week ago lmao. Brought to you by that one Sukuna art, Fleabag, the songs Church/Devilish by Chase Atlantic, and really just my priest kink in general, yeah.

Disclaimer - I am not super religious forgive me if none of this makes sense lmao idk

Friendly reminder- if your age isn't easily accessible on your profile I will not be tagging you! That said if you'd like a tag in future works let me know and I'll add you to the list!

Bestie beta reader: @yukios-medic ily ma'am as always you keep me sane 🥹💙

Pairing: priest!Sukuna x fem!reader

cw/tw: minors/ageless blogs DNI, priest kink, degradation, reader is called good girl, oral (female receiving) unprotected sex, cream pie, dirty talk

Word count: 5.7k

She’s seen him around the coffee shop she frequents every once in a while. ‘Gorgeous’ might be an understatement – maybe ‘sculpted by the gods’ would be a more accurate description.

He’s tall, muscular, from what she can tell under his loose-fitting tee and jeans. She swears she’s not gawking, but with the tattoos that line his face and arms, so intricate yet simple, his fluffy pink hair, could anyone really blame her for staring a second too long?

He’s so breathtaking, she might just be showing up to the coffee shop more often than she used to just in the hopes of glimpsing him a little longer. Maybe in a different t-shirt, maybe in a suit– okay stop.

She’s decided to take a seat while she waits for her order to be called out, not having paid particular attention to who from the list of regulars she sees strewn about the shop.

“Order for Father Kuna!” She huffs a small laugh out as the barista calls the name with such a straight face, and then pink hair is blocking the view. Her breath catches in her throat the moment he turns around to walk back to his table with a grin, and their eyes meet. Her heart jumps into her throat, but the moment is only that- a moment, and then he’s moving out of her view, back to the table of other men laughing as he rejoins their group.

She chances a look that way to see a man with long black hair, and another with short white hair. She looks away before any of them can feel her eyes on them. It was enough that he was so attractive, but all three of them?

It’s not the first time she’s seen him smile, but it is the first time he’s looked at her, smile widening as they lock eyes.

–

Granted, it’s only Tuesday, this whole week has been one inconvenience after another, and her visit to the coffee shop is not an exception. In her rush to find caffeine, she’d neglected to bring her wallet with her. So, imagine her surprise when she moves to pull it from her purse and pay, only to notice it missing.

She’s huffing as she frantically looks through the bag again. The cashier in front of her looks bored, like this is probably not the first time this exact situation has taken place today, and if the world could just open up and swallow her whole right now, that would be great–

“I can pay, if you can’t find your wallet.” A voice calls from behind her, and if her cheeks weren’t already red from embarrassment at her current situation, they would be now.

Turning to look at the owner of the voice, she’s met with an abdomen, and as she follows it up, black tattoos come into view, and so does pink hair, and are his eyes red–

“Oh, please no, it’s fine I’ll just–” He laughs, and she feels like every inconvenience in her life could just melt away at the sound.

“I insist. Besides, what kind of good Samaritan would I be if I left a damsel without the caffeine she looks like she might break down without?” Her face scrunches up at his comment, but before she can question it, he’s stepping past her to order his own drink and pay.

“I was joking, by the way. About the caffeine comment. I’m sorry if it came across rude, you just looked a little you could have used a laugh. Long week?” She laughs and nods as they wait off to the side for their drinks.

“The longest. And thank you for paying, really you didn’t have to, but I appreciate it, nonetheless.” He grins again and her heart might actually jump out of her chest at just how painfully gorgeous this man is.

“It’s no issue, I like helping people where I can.”

“Well, I’m going to pay you back after this, just so you know.” He chuckles and shakes his head.

“There’s no need, we’ll say I just did it out of the kindness of my heart and leave it at that.”

“I don’t like feeling like I owe people.”

“Then don’t feel that way.” She lets out an exasperated huff as she looks up at him, but he’s grinning down at her again.

“Okay fine, fine. How about this? How about you can pay me back, by meeting me… Here.” He says as he scribbles an address out for her on a napkin. He hands it over, and she takes it with a raised brow, looking at the unfamiliar street name and number.

“You want me to bring your money to an address I’ve never been to before?” And there’s a sparkle in his eyes as he looks down at her.

“I don’t even know you.”

“Sure you do,” he says with a nod, continuing on, “I’m Sukuna, the devilishly handsome coffee shop patron who doubles as your knight in shining armor for today.” She laughs as he grins.

“Okay, well, what makes you think you know me?” And he pretends to think for a minute.

“Well lets see, I’ve seen you around this little shop long enough to know that you’re a woman of your word.”

“How, this is the first time we’ve ever exchanged words.” She scoffs another laugh.

“Oh so you have noticed me around then?” And anything she says next would give away the fact she did notice him around, so her jaw opens and closes silently as she debates on what to say next.

“I-” And she’s saved by the barista interrupting her derailed train of thought.

“Order for Ryomen!” He moves to the pickup bar, taking the two drinks in hand and walking back to her.

“Meet me there tonight, seven fifteen.” And she’s still trying to register what’s even really happening as he hands her the cup.

“What is this like a date?” The words leave her mouth before she can stop them, and she bites her tongue as he chuckles.

“Yeah, something like that. Just come, then consider your drink paid for.” And how could she say no to him?

“Okay sure,” she laughs nervously, “I’ll be there, Sukuna.” And she savors the way his name sounds, rolling off her tongue.

“I’m looking forward to it, enjoy your drink.” He says with a smirk, before leaving her in the coffee shop. Sitting down at a nearby table, she pulls out her phone to look up the address she’d just agreed to meet a semi-total stranger at, and when it loads on her map she’s left even more confused than before – it’s the address to a church.

–

She’s sitting in the parking lot of the church, staring at the doors in contemplation. She’s not very religious, but the curiosity of finding out just what he could possibly be asking her here for, is why she’s making her way to said doors once the first few groups of people pass. She laughs to herself at the mental image of the church setting her ablaze the second she steps in.

Looking around at everyone sitting down, she’s searching for pink hair, but doesn’t see it. For church on a Tuesday night, the place is almost packed. She barely finds a seat with breathing room from the sea of faces around her.

‘It is only eight past seven though, maybe I’m just early.’ She thinks, trying to calm her rising nerves. What is she even doing here? It was so easy for a handsome stranger to coax her into following him to some random church, surely this was not the stellar survival instinct of someone who doesn’t get serial murdered.

The minutes tick by, and she’s about to just get up and leave, mortification starting to settle at the fact she believed he would even show up, when a familiar voice gathers all attention to the front of the room, and she freezes.

What exactly is she supposed to make of the sight before her? Black tattoos, pink hair, muscular body, covered up in black clothing, complete with the white tab collar. If the building wasn’t going to set her on fire before, it surely would now.

“Good evening, everyone. For those of you that are joining us for the first time tonight, I’m Father Ryomen.”

He’s looking out into the crowd as he speaks, eyes scanning the rows of people for her. When his eyes land on her, her breath catches in her throat, shivers running through her entire body.

‘There is no way in hell that I am horny in church right now.’ But there is a way, and his lip is currently curling up at the corner as he looks at her.

So, she sits for the next hour and a half, listening to the sound of his voice as he goes on through his sermon, not retaining anything except for how smooth his voice sounds, booming off the walls. He gives his closing words, and everyone around her begins to get up. Some filter out, most stay back to chat with him, and she decides to wait until there is no longer a line leading up to him.

The last big group of people finish up, and she’s finally had ample time to process the image before her as she makes her way toward him against the leaving crowd.

“You made it.” He says with a warm smile, and her stomach twists.

“I won’t lie, I thought you were joking still when I realized it was a church. So, a priest, huh?” He laughs with a nod.

“Forgive me, father, if I didn’t take you for the type.” Sukuna smirks down at her, and for a second, she swears there’s a mischievous glint in his eyes. It’s gone just as soon though, and she chalks it up to the lighting.

“Most people don’t, with the tattoos and all. I don’t mind, though. I use it as a way to show it is not our place to cast judgment upon others. But services are over, please, just call me Sukuna.”

“How very religious of you, Sukuna.” She hums.

“And what about you, then?”

“Honestly? I’ve never been very religious.” She shrugs, ‘but I can see why the people at this church would be’.

“And yet I talked you into coming? Surely that’s got to mean something.” He jokes as he rests a hand on her arm for a second.

“It does, if I’m not mistaken, my drink is now paid for in full.”

“Hah.” He fake laughs, and the sound makes her stomach flutter as she looks around.

“I should probably get going though, I think we’re the last two here.” She notes, seeing the fact everyone else has filtered out of the church, before looking back up at him.

“Why don’t you stay with me and lock up, I want to show you something.” Conscious of the fact she still doesn’t really know him, she raises an eyebrow at him, searching his face for any ill-intent.

“It’s nothing bad, I promise. I don’t bite, if that’s what you’re worried about.” And she doesn’t sense anything bad about him, his words seem genuine. There’s something about him though, she can’t quite place. It doesn’t set off alarm bells, but it piqued her interest, making her stomach knot in anticipation.

So, she follows him. Chatting about nothing in particular as he tidies around, and they lock up the church for the night.

“You know, I would have never in my wildest dreams, guessed priest.” He threw her a smile.

“So what did you dream about me then?” Her cheeks burn, and she busies herself with the now very interesting chip in her nail polish as she flounders for a response. But he hooks his finger under her chin, grabbing her attention.

“Hey, I’m kidding.” He says, leaning down to catch her eye, and her heart stops. She’s not sure what she’s doing as she stares back into scarlet eyes, but the air around them changes. Suddenly, it’s thick with desire, so thick she could almost choke on it. And she can feel the gap between them slowly closing- he licks his lips, eyes glancing down at her own for just a second.

“C’mon, we’re not done yet.” He says softly, before pulling away. Her head is swimming, was she just about to kiss the hot coffee shop priest inside the church, no less? But she doesn’t dwell, he’s already moving to the other end of the hall, and she’s quick to catch up.

“It’s usually one of the other two fathers and myself,” he explains as he moves through the church, checking doors and tidying up as he goes. “unfortunately they’re both out this week.”

“And that leaves poor Father Ryomen to take care of the church all by himself?” She teases, and he scoffs.

“They’re unreliable as it is. Though the current company isn’t an undesirable exchange.” He winks at her, and not for the first time tonight, she wonders why he’s called her here.

“Why did you bring me here?”

“To repay your drink from earlier.” She rolls her eyes with a smile.

“That is so not why you dragged a stranger to your church.”

“Why do you think I dragged you here then, hmm?” He whispers, eyes slipping down to her lips again before searching her face.

“And I already told you, we aren’t strangers.” As he says it, it really does feel true. She doesn’t feel out of place next to him, doesn’t feel like she shouldn’t be here, even if this is the first time she’s stepped into a church in years. She takes his shift in conversation and runs with it, not answering his previous question. The thought he’d brought her here for anything other than to listen to him preach was starting to take hold, and she’d rather not read the room wrong and tell him what she was really thinking.

“It’s been so long since I’ve been to church, I thought maybe I’d be struck down the moment I made it inside.” She laughs, stepping past the door he holds open for her into a new room.

“Have you ever done confession before?” He asks, moving to refill the holy water.

“Can’t say that I have, but I get the gist of it.”

“Enlighten me.” He’s glancing at her with a stern look on his face as he caps the bottle.

“You sit on one side, us sinners sit on the other.” and at that he cracks a smile, chuckling.

“Keep going, you’re on the right track.”

“And, they tell them to you and you forgive them on god's behalf.” He shakes his head, still smiling.

“Want to give it a go?” She looks at him with an arched brow, and this time she laughs.

“You did this on purpose didn’t you, paid for my drink to get me into a booth. I’m almost positive that falls under coercion, y’know.”

“Oh c’mon, just try it. Don’t you trust me?” And there it is again, that mischievous glint in his eyes that makes heat pool in her lower stomach. She bites her lip.

“No I trust you just fine Sukuna, I just-” But he’s placing a hand at the small of her back, leading her to the booth at the front of the room.

“What are you doing?”

“Going to wash you from years of sin.” He whispers as he leans down to her ear, and a shiver runs through her.

“You’re joking-”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” And he’s reaching over her to slide the curtain aside, motioning for her to sit.

“I don’t think-”

“Then don’t. Be a good girl, have a seat.” Her stomach flips at his words, and there’s that smirk again. Like he knows exactly what he’s doing to her. What could humoring him hurt? She’s moving, brushing past his reach to sit on the hard wood. He gives her a nod, closing the curtain.

“I’ll be right on the other side, then I’ll talk you through it.” 'I bet you would' and the words are flashing in her mind before she can stop them. Maybe five hours ago, before she knew he’d sworn himself to a life of celibacy and Jesus, his hands all over her had been attainable. But now? This just felt like torture- and yet here she was. Being a good girl for him, and sitting in his booth.

She chews her lip, shifting her thighs together.

“Nervous?” He asks, hearing the noise. She stops moving, shame washing over herself. Not only was she trying to relieve some of the tension between her legs in a church- Sukuna could hear it.

“Y-yeah, something like that.” She laughs, putting her hands to her face.

“You have nothing to worry about. Sinning is innately human, that’s why you come to me.” And did she really come to him? Certainly not for this, but again, here she was. When he realized she wasn’t going to speak up again, he continued.

“Let’s start off with this, just say what you can read off the little plaque there.”

“Sukuna-”

“Aht aht,’ he cuts her off “I’m Father, in the booth, little one.” Heat pools between her legs at his tone. It’s playful but firm, and she can’t help the way she’s biting her lip to not make a sound. She follows his instructions, and- this feels ridiculous, what are they doing exactly? Why is she still doing it?

“What are they?”

“I don’t,” she wracks her brain for an answer. Being here in the first place, premarital sex, lusting for a priest, lusting for said priest while in the church.. The list was long, and she wasn’t sure saying it aloud would make the dull ache she was currently feeling any better.

“Don’t be shy now.” And he says now like he knew something she didn’t, about what was really going on here.

“I’ve watched Twilight.” It’s the first thing to come to her mind that doesn’t elude to the fact she’s going home to stuff a dildo into her aching walls while she thinks about him tonight. The answer catches him off guard, and he chuckles. Turning to the wicker wall dividing them. She can’t physically see him looking at her, but she can feel his eyes on her through the divider.

“Twilight, really?” Her cheeks turn pink, and she looks right back at him.

“Look I read it was like, devil worship according to the church in some article, okay?” He shakes his head with a smile.

“The woman who I met in the coffee shop just doesn’t strike me as the type to watch vampire movies, is all.” He teases.

“Oh like you’ve never watched a single fantasy movie.” He’s quiet now, and she blinks.

“… Not a single one, ever? Isn’t lying a sin, Father?” She challenges.

“We should stick to the topic at hand, sinner.” Her jaw drops and she scoffs in disbelief.

“Okay, well, the next one is that I have tattoos.” She can just imagine the look on his face right now.

“That’s a common one.”

“I’m still surprised they let you, with the tattoos.” She notes, smoothing out her dress over her thighs.

“I can be very convincing, when I need to be.”

“What is that like code for something?”

“My charm helps, even the little old ladies got over them when I flashed a nice smile.”

“I’m sure you’re very popular with all the grandmas.” She laughed.

“Not as popular as Father Gojo, but he’s always been the type to flirt with most things that have legs, regardless of age.” And he has to keep from rolling his eyes or talking any further down on the white haired man.

“I thought flirting was like, forbidden in your religion.”

“Not necessarily forbidden. frown upon, sure, side-eyed possibly.” She could live with side-eyed, hell she could live with frowned upon too. She wasn’t the one that took an oath of never sticking her dick in someone else. But she was the one that decided she wanted a priest of all people, to stick their dick in her. That wasn’t much better for her in the long run though.

“I think that about covers all my transgressions up to this point. Hey, does it still work if I confess to something I eventually will do? I think that’s a much better way to run this whole thing.” Sukuna chuckles, she’s definitely warmed up to being here with him, he can tell in the way she speaks so freely.

“That covers everything huh? Sure you’re not missing anything?”

“Like what?”

“How about, ’I’ve been eyeing up a priest for the past month now’.”

“I- what?” Her voice catches in her throat, jaw dropping and face burning. This visit had just taken a left turn, there was no way he’d just said that.

“Go on, say it. Unless of course, I’m wrong? Just remember, lying is a sin.” She can hear the smirk in his voice, but he doesn’t stop.

“Maybe, ‘I’m so turned on I can’t even sit still’.” Her breath catches in her throat- how could he have known that.

“Or how about, ‘I’ve even made a priest question where his loyalties lie’.” Her body was hot, a fire growing in the pit of her stomach. She takes a shallow breath, mouth feeling dry. She was going to have to answer him at some point, situational whiplash or not. She might as well try to level the playing field while she was at it,

“I’ll own up to mine, but not yours.” He chuckles, and it’s deep, ringing in her ears.

“Perhaps we should switch sides of the booth then.” Listening to a hot priest tell her just how into him she was, wasn’t exactly how she’d imagined tonight going. But when she really thought about it, what other way could tonight have gone?

She heard him shifting on his side, before the curtain was being drawn back. And her handsome, well put together priest, was no longer looking quite so put together anymore.

His hair looked like he’d been running his fingers through it, shoulders moving in sync with his breathing as he gripped the side of the booth.

“Lust is a sin too- but sometimes I just can’t help myself.” She swallowed hard at his words, frozen in place as she stared up at him, red eyes burning into her.

“I can always get on my knees, ask god's forgiveness afterwards.”

“Sukuna…” And she’s watching him slowly sink to the floor before her. Even as she looks down at him, she doesn’t get the feeling that she’s the one in charge of this situation. He moves forward, caging her against the back of the booth, his face inches away.

He looks so different from what she normally sees at the coffee shop; lips twitching up in a smirk as he reaches over to caress her cheek. He certainly doesn’t look anything like a priest, let alone a respectable one. He looks devilish, like he’s been waiting for an opportunity to get her here. And she can’t say it’s not exactly where she wants to be.

He leans closer to pull her into a kiss. The first one is slow, tentative, even though they’re both so clearly worked up. Pulling back to look her in the eyes he searches them, before they both crash their lips together.

“Mmm- wait- wait!” She can barely get the words out against his mouth, pressing her hands against his chest. He pulls back, looking at her in concern that he’d over stepped.

“What about- what if someone sees us?” The concern on her face that someone would catch them doing this, and not the fact that they’re still going to, is so cute of her.

“We locked the doors, didn’t we?” He grins and lets out a breathless laugh as the realization crosses her face. The son of a bitch planned this whole thing. He dips back in to claim her lips again, hands traveling down her sides to her ass, sliding her to the edge of the seat.

“From the moment I first laid eyes on you, I knew you’d be the reason.” He’s pressing kisses along her jaw, down her neck, anywhere he can reach.

“What?” She breaths, not really hearing him as her eyelids flutter. She’s too wrapped up in the whole situation, in how soft but firm his palm feels against her face as she leans into his touch. How wrong but right it feels for him to touch her, even just like this.

“Knew I’d stumble,” His thumb traces her bottom lip, tugging it down, and she opens her mouth instinctively. He’s using the grip on her jaw to turn her face to the side, planting kisses below her ear as she shutters, whining at the feeling.

“It’s like you knew, walking into a church wearing a dress. Walking into my church, wearing that dress. Did you wear it because you caught me staring a little longer when you would?” He’s rough, pressing his lips along her neck, across her chest, sucking, biting his way further down her body.

Her head is spinning. This was wrong, wasn’t it? But the fact it was wrong only turned her on more. She’d never wanted, needed, someone to fuck her so badly before. His hands are everywhere, kneading her chest, pinching at her hardening nipples.

“I asked you a question.” Sukuna’s still pinching at her bud, and she can barely concentrate enough to whimper a ‘yes’.

“Yes what?”

“Yes… Yes… I wore it just for you.” He sucks his teeth with a grin.

"Be a good girl and keep your eyes on me, I want to see them.” He pulls away from her and slips further down, running his hands from her knees up her thighs, pushing her dress up as he does. She’s instinctively parting her legs, letting him ghost his lips up the inside of her thigh. Sukuna presses his thumb against the wet spot on her panties, looking up to see her squirming closer as he does.

“Patients is a virtue, sweetheart.” He warns as he drags the lacy fabric down, discarding it off to the side. She huffs with a pout,

He presses his thumb to her clit, rubbing slow circles as she twitches below him.

He rubs a finger through her slick folds, slowly pushing into her. It's easy, she's so wet, whining for him so needily, and he's already working a second one in.

"Eyes on me, you're going to look at me while I make you cry." She could finish right here, he was so calm yet demanding. Scissoring his fingers inside of her he moved his thumb, dropping his mouth over her clit as he sucked.

Her thighs are fighting to close against him as he slides his fingers into her, tongue moving in slow circles. It's cramped in the booth, but Sukuna still finds the space to use his arms to hold her legs open. She's biting her lip so hard as she watches him, body tense. Her grip on his hair is tight, and she doesn't know if she's trying to pull him closer or push him away as the pleasure builds in her abdomen.

Sukuna doesn't stop as he feels every part of her clench, her body rigid and she takes everything he's giving her. He's sucking as he moves his tongue just a little faster, fingers sliding in and out of her slick cunt as he curls them inside of her. Her back arches, legs shaking as her walls clamp down on his fingers, pulsing as her orgasm washes over her. She's gripping his pink hair, trying as hard as she can to keep her eyes on him as he works her through it.

He's watching her with determination, listening to her cry his name, as his cock strained in his pants. With a few more shallow pumps of his fingers he pulls out and she whines.

"Greed is a sin too, sweetheart." He says as he lifts his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean. She breathes in softly as she watches, the low grown leaving his mouth making her stomach flip.

"Taste divine, I'd keep you here for hours if I could." He moans, pressing his mouth to her glistening cunt as he lapped her clean. She cried out at the over stimulation, hands flying to his head, trying to push him away. He simply takes both her wrists in his hand, holding them at bay.

"Try to stop me again, and it'll be a long night for you in this booth." He warns, pulling back to look at her. A rush floods her body at the thought, and he's leaning up to kiss her again. She's eager to return it, lacing her fingers through the hair at his nape.

Sukuna pulls her up on shaky legs, turning them so he can sit down instead, pulling her to straddle him. He presses her down over his clothed bulge, grinding up into her as he pulls away.

"You gonna be a good girl and have a seat?" She whines, grinding right back down onto him with a nod as she runs her hands down his chest, fumbling with his belt. He rubs his hands up and down her sides as she works, whimpers of frustration falling from her lips as she works on his pants.

"Patients is still a virtue." He hums, kissing the side of her neck. She can feel how thick he is even over his pants, but she's not ready for just how thick he actually is when she works him out of his clothes. Her jaw drops with a gasp as she runs her thumb over his slit, already dripping with precum. Sukuna hisses, hand flying down to grip her own.

"I said sit." He says, gripping her hips to lift her over him.

"You're so-"

"I'll fit, don't worry." He soothes as he moves her, rubbing his head between her folds a few times before slowly pulling her down. Her hands fly to his shoulders, gripping tight as he slowly stretches her out, making room for himself as he breaks her open over him.

"Sukuna, Sukuna!" She whimpers.

"You're doing so well, look at you." He praises, brushing his thumb over her cheek. She doesn't think she can take anymore, and yet her walls are practically sucking him further in, begging for more. God no one's ever felt like this before, he filled every space inside of her.

And then the back of her thighs are flush against his own, as he slowly rocks into her.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" He coos, and she shakes her head, mind already hazy from the pleasure.

"No." She whimpers, and rolls her hips with a cry.

"Fuck you're so much." She sobs, body shaking.

"Yeah? But you're going to take it." And he's pulling out, only to slam back up into her. She screams, nails digging into his arms as he holds her. He sets a steady pace, and after the first few thrusts she starts to move too, bouncing herself over him, pushing him further into her tight heat everytime their hips meet.

Sukuna pulls the top of her dress down, sucking a nipple into his mouth. All she can do is moan and grind harder down into him. Looking down between them she watches as he disappears into her, and it should be terrifying, just how much of him there is- yet she's accommodating every thick inch. And then she sees it when he pulls away from her chest- the bulge in her lower abdomen. She takes a shaken breath, and presses down on it.

“Oh my god fuck!” she whines, throwing her head back as her legs shake.

“When I’m this deep in you, the only God you should be crying for is me.” Sukuna growls, fingers digging into her sides to hold her in place as he fucked up into her. She clenched around him at his words and he grinned.

“Oh she liked that, did she?”

“Sukuna-! Fuck I’m gonna cum!” She cried, nails digging into his arms. He drank in the way she looked, jaw dropped in a silent moan, lip quivering. He wasn’t going to last much longer either, with the way her walls fluttered around him, sucking him deeper with every thrust.

“Where should I-”

“Fuck- inside, I don’t care just please-” She was shaking her head, rolling her hips into him as she babbled. Sukuna gripped her chin, forcing her attention on him.

“Say it again, like you mean it. Like you want it.”

“Please Sukuna, finish inside me. Wanna feel you inside me!” Her walls clamped down hard around him as she cried. He lifted a hand to wrap it behind her head, pulling her forehead against his own.

“There it is, take it. Be a good girl and cum for me.” He growled, watching as she came undone before him; jaw dropped in a silent moan as she pulsed around him. Sukuna fucked her through her orgasm, sending him right over the edge into his own. She whined at the feeling of him painting her insides in hot spurts, grinding further into him as they both pant.

It was quiet, aside from their breathing as they came down from the high, lustful haze being left behind. She cleared her throat, realizing they’d have to clean up the mess that was going to drip out of her.

“Well…” She started, beginning to pull back when Sukuna stopped her.

“Where do you think you’re going?” The question takes her aback as she stutters for an answer.

“I just- I thought- the mess…?” He grins lazily up at her, swiping a thumb over her bottom lip.

“Did you really think I brought you here just for one fuck?”

“Technically you brought me here over coffee.” She giggled, leaning into his palm.

“Leave your wallet at home more often then.” He demands, and she swallows hard, gasping as he bucks up into her again.

Tags: @saiki-enthusiast @alice-smutthoughts @idktbhloley @rezitio @matchat3a @mo0nforme @bleach-your-panties @fateisnotafactor @lov3ly-bunny @antishadow2021 @xo-evangeline @ackachii @tiredravenette @carpioassists @yoongislatinagff @unoriginalidea @i-likebread @squishybabei @emyyy007 @bitchykittenconnoisseur @kokushibosgirl @wishandluck @kimchi-zaks @kyriekurokami @not-brionnne @andic137 @tang3r1n @mammon-s @yuujispinkhair

#jjk #sukuna jjk #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna #sukuna smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #priest Sukuna #priest kink #jjk smut #late night sukuna posting #sukuna hcs

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yxstxrdrxxm · 3 months

Text

SYNOPSIS: Perfection lies on the eye of the beholder. Or, in this case, in the hands of an alchemist who dabbled in sculpting.

TW/s: yandere behavior, Albedo is a bit of an impulsive bastard, abstract in writing, nsfw tws includes usage of drugs, odd materials, dollification, toxic relationship. Please dni if you are uncomfortable.

NOTE FROM HR: Happy Valentine’s Day! If you asked Albedo, he had nothing to gain to be able to celebrate an occasion such as this, but it seems you guys have been together for months. I wonder what he has in store to celebrate this day with you, hm?

Albedo is what many would say is never considered to celebrate Valentine’s Day. If you ever told him what that occasion is like, he would simply tell you the meaning and not what he truly thought about it. After all, that is normal for many to expect, right?

Well, that is what the old him would’ve thought, but he had a lover now. One that understood him, and the person that seemed to look at him like he was someone to be cared for.

To be fair, he and Kendall are what people would say that are polar opposites. He was stoic and hard to approach, but to the likes of Kendall, he simply showed sides of him that he wanted her to see past.

Why? It was simply because the two shared the same ideas and bonded well. Thus, for the alchemist, he thought it simply made sense to do that.

One of those was when they picked up a book that he had seen and he told Kendall if she was aware. Although she wasn’t, the time they spent together deciphering and discussing the contents of the book when they read it together was nice. He had never been interested in reading anything but scholar-approved journals, so picking up something light with her had been an interesting perspective.

There was one thing that he remembered so clearly—in the passage of the book, ‘Challenger Deep’, he remembered asking her how she felt with the narrative being shifted so often. He recalled how many were speaking of how difficult it was to follow them, like they couldn’t figure out what was happening.

Her words caught him by surprise, though.

“It’s not that bad when you think about it. After all, the story is focused on the boy, so if they can’t follow what’s going on, that’s their problem.”

It was then that he realized just how different they were. And Gods, he was absolutely not letting this opportunity go.

So, he began to speak to Kendall more. He began to look into what she thought of certain topics, books, and even past those with art forms as well. But in the midst of it, he found himself feeling more and more attached to her.

It was a strange conundrum. He didn’t understand the feeling at all. It felt… Foreign.

He didn’t like that.

What was stranger yet was that he saw her profile in the MixMatch app. He had been on it for months since he needed more funds for his projects, and it was the easiest way for him as he had been scouted by the bigwigs of Celestia Inc, so to see her in there and the profile she has set up was a curious coincidence.

Now, any sane person would’ve simply ignored her profile and scroll past to the next one, but Albedo is no foolish man. Nay, he wanted to see just how far he can go when he managed to match with Kendall and see how deeper their relationship could become.

With one swipe, they were both matched up by the app. Just like how history led them to be tied together since day one.

After that time, the memories became a tad bit fuzzy for Albedo to remember. It had gone through so many changes: from the time they were finally together, then the small celebrations they hosted, and even their first kiss. It was almost sweet with how Albedo tried to be accommodating and loving to Kendall, but there were times that it was difficult.

Love is difficult for him. But he has his ways to show that to you.

Such a shame that one of them led you to the situation he’s facing right in front of him.

Standing in front of the somewhat finished sculpture he made, he found himself… Strangely at ease. His expression remained unchanged, though, but the sight of it made him internally smile. It was something that he himself can live on proudly.

In a weird way, it made him feel a bit human. It was perfect for him.

Granted, the materials he made was not something he can get right away. It had to be curated, picked by hand, and he needed to make sure it fit his vision. One slight and it would’ve been thrown away, discarded like a child’s toy when they’ve grown old to even touch it anymore.

He was a picky man. He wanted what’s best for him and his lover, and he had dedicated himself for far too long to be able to back down now.

Raising a hand, he gently swiped it across the cheek of his muse, his eyes softening. The feeling of smoothness meeting his bare fingers sent tingles in his spine, tracing it ever so closer to their eyes and lips, and even drifting to their neck. There were a few blemishes, sure, but it was fine—it looked close enough that he was able to modify it to make it look authentic from the naked eye.

He spent 6 months working on the statue before him. His life’s work, he coined as such. He had always wanted to express his feelings to his lover if they’ve stayed for this long, and even then, he wanted to give it to her as his memento for the occasion.

Looking down, he hummed in satisfaction at the placement of the props he curated. He made sure that the statue had the finest of jewelry hung on their body, its hair and clothing pristine as he first found it, and he gave extra care to spots he saw that weren't perfect.

The dust that was left from his smashed previous attempts and frustrations are all but swept away, hidden from anyone that dares to enter his workshop.

Grabbing the cloth next to him, he lifted it up and tossed it on top of the statue’s head, gently letting it flutter down to the ground. He didn’t want anyone to see it, and he made sure that every spot of that statue he made was covered to a T.

“... It’s perfect,” he whispered, looking down at the time and the pendant. “Now, I need to give this to her tomorrow morning. I must get some rest.”

He has a busy day tomorrow, after all.

Heading up to Kendall’s apartment, Albedo caught sight of his lover. Although there were bandages wrapped around her head and other parts of her body, he gently tapped on the door; a small greeting for her to hear, not one that may be too disruptive for someone who’s in recovery.

As her head turned and the two saw each other, the sculptor smiled.

“Greetings. Still trying to decipher the book, are you, Kendall?”

The latter blinked, the cogs obviously turning before he saw her nod with a gentle smile. “Yes, I wanted to know why I’m drawn to this book,” she answered him, making him hum and walk closer to her. Pulling up a seat, he glanced at the cover and the contents to see what she was reading.

“Challenger Deep… I see. This book can be quite tricky to understand,” he comments, his hand reaching to the cover. “However, you can try and read it later. I have something to show you at my house, Kendall.”

Closing the book, the blonde looked at his partner, smiling ever so gently with how she lit up.

It was different. So different from the reaction she’d give him, and it sometimes made him feel like he was dreaming. Alas, he isn’t, and he knew that to be the case for him and Kendall. After all, he made sure it wouldn’t come to light.

“Let’s go. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.”

Grabbing her hand, he grabbed the book and placed it on the table, keeping it closed. Leading his lover out of the living room, he helped her get her shoes and make some bits of conversation between them. He didn’t wish to make the mood tense, but it seems that she’s beaten him to it.

Albedo is never this talkative to anyone. To him, speaking takes a lot of his energy, and he is never fond of the idea. Though, with the one he’s with, he never found the idea revolting nor exhausting; she reminded him of Sucrose, minus that she’s a lot more outspoken with her thoughts to the alchemist.

It was an amusing sight: a man who refused to speak more than he had to, paired with a woman who loved to speak to those she found close with.

Their journey down to his apartment was as quick as he remembered. He kept a tight grip of Kendall as they went out and about, telling her that she must stay close, lest someone would see her and bring either of them trouble.

He knew why it must be done. People may still be out to look for her, and he didn’t want to risk anything to happen to his beloved.

Still, the real surprise came when he managed to reach his home. Pulling out the keys, he pushed one in and turned it, unlocking the door and letting her enter right inside his abode. Though, he found himself looking back for a moment.

It was strange. He swore he felt eyes pierce through him, but…

…

It must be nothing, he thought. No one would ever dare to follow me.

Turning back around, he entered the house, the floorboards creaking under his feet as he closed the door shut. He could already hear noises from inside his house, but he paid it no heed as he simply walked through to find where she ended up.

The soft thudding of boot meeting the floor echoed, and even the soft creaks didn’t deter him as much as it had used to.

He was used to it. It was his only home, after all.

“Albedo?” he heard a voice faintly call out. “Albedo, what is this?”

Ah, she’s found it.

“I’m right here,” he answered, entering his studio and watching as she stood in front of the now uncovered statue. The light began to shine and give the features more clarity, laying bare to what the two can see without a moment to lose.

The statue before the two had parts of themselves that had been sculpted by hand and blade, the skin color being the same as the one Kendall had with a few stitches and blemishes that Albedo wasn’t bothering himself too much to clean up. The attire had been commissioned by someone he knew, as it accentuated the statue’s body from head to toe.

The eyes remained closed as the hair was cut to her hairstyle, but there were some obvious patches and discoloration that shows its original color, which was something different entirely.

The face is what caught her by surprise, however. She had expected it to look like it was the same as hers, or even a human being’s face, but it was just patched with makeup and rough cuts. It was far too eerie to even put it to words, but Kendall can only look at it and then turn her gaze to Albedo.

He made this, did he? So why did this happen? Why is it made to look like an abhorrent abomination?

“I assume you like it, do you?” he asked her, his face still holding that same smile as he went closer to her. “You must be. After all, I’ve wasted blood, sweat, and tears over making this for you.”

It seems that’s all the answers they need from him.

“Don’t you think it’s perfect, too?”

@.throw-letter-away | do not republish or repost my works anywhere | 2024

#💌 ;; message delivery #💌 ;; from: albedo #💌 ;; to: armin-ocean-eyes #💌 ;; promising letter: one last call #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere gi #genshin impact #genshin #gi #yandere albedo #yandere #yandere writing #yandere text #male yandere #albedo #genshin impact albedo #genshin albedo

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haikyuufanficwriting · 4 months

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Chapter 3: Daichi

Prompt: (Character) is a Lyft/Uber/Taxi driver and meets Reader Character: Daichi _________

It was rainy day. With a grey sky, and soft raining pattering the streets outside your small apartment in Tokyo, Japan. A perfect day to visit the Japanese Gardens, in your opinion.

You’d always loved rainy days, for no particular reason. It brought a calm that no other day could. Maybe it was the sound of the rain, maybe it was the different coloured umbrellas that covered the streetwalkers, maybe it was just how vibrant the green of the plants were when the sky was a gloomy contrast.

Either way, you had planned for this weather exactly when you had bought your ticket to go. With your umbrella packed, rain jacket on, all you had to do was wait for your driver to come and pick you up. Which by the tracker on your phone, was coming in five minutes.

You had considered using the train, but since you’re so new to the area, you were afraid that you would you miss your stop or get off on the wrong one. So, until you were more familiar with the maps, you were happy with ordering rides.

Your thoughts are cut off by the ringing of your phone. It was your driver. They must be downstairs. You put your phone to your ear to answer. “Hello?”

“Hi, this is Daichi, your driver. I’m outside.” You were a little taken aback when you heard his voice. It was so deep. Like the kind that hit your soul, kind of deep. Not to mention totally soothing. You could fall asleep just by listening to his voice.

You brush the thoughts aside, “I’ll be right down.” And with that, you end the call. You grab your bag, and your umbrella as you head out of your apartment. You put the hood of your jacket over your head, as you leave the shelters of your building, rushing slightly to the car parked on the curb that matched the description of your driver’s car. You opened the door of the car.

“Hi, (Last Name)-san?” Your driver, Daichi, asks. You smile and nod, getting into the passenger seat beside him. Only when you’re completely settled into the car do you get a good look at the man next to you.

Wow, he is handsome. Was the first thought that popped into your head. He looked to be around your age, with slightly tanned skin, which his dark brown hair suited perfectly, a sculpted face with round chocolate brown eyes. His body wasn’t too bad either from what you could see; with broad shoulders that connected to strong arms that gripped the wheel.

And while you couldn’t look for too long, his thighs were things that Greek Gods would be jealous of.

“Ready to go?” Daichi asks, clearly oblivious to your staring. Lord, the phone didn’t do any justice to this man’s voice in real life. You actually had to fight back a shiver. You flush, embarrassed and ashamed at yourself for checking him out. “Y-yeah.” You turn away from him, grabbing your seatbelt and locking it in. In that process also trying to keep your hormones in check.

The ride started silent, which you were okay with. You were never one of those people who couldn’t stand silence, in fact you quite enjoyed it. You were more than happy to sit there quietly and watch the streets through the water-stained window of Daichi’s car.

Which is why you didn’t expect his sudden question.

“New around here?” You turn your head to him, but he isn’t facing you. His eyes are glued to the road, but there is a soft smile playing on his lips. You can’t help but give a chuckle. “Is it that obvious?”

“Well, the touristy place helped. I’m surprised you’re still going considering it’s raining pretty hard today.” You feel the smile on your face grow.

“All the more reason to go, in my opinion.” You reach a red light, and Daichi turns his head to face you. If you thought his side profile was stunning, you really don’t know how to describe the full-face view.

“I take it you like rain then?” He asks you, gaze turning amused when you sigh in bliss.

“Don’t you think everything is so much prettier in the rain?” Daichi doesn’t respond at first, but just looks at you. You two hold each other’s eye for a couple seconds above normalcy, before he notices the light turning green and keep his eyes on the road once more.

“I haven’t thought of it that way. I’ve always thought rain to be depressing.”

“Maybe it’s because that’s how you’ve been taught to view it.” He’s quiet for a couple seconds.

“I’m not sure I follow.” You hum, thoughtful.

“Everyone prefers when the sky is bright and blue. Not a cloud in sight. But I think the sky takes all the focus from things down here.” You turn to the window again, watching as you pass the streets outside. “But when the sky is gloomy and dark, you can see how beautiful things are without the help of the sun or the sky. It’s a more quiet and delicate kind of beautiful. The kind where you have to want to see it.” You gushed quietly, turning to the front again.

“I guess I never thought of it that way.” Daichi mumbles, focusing on a turn. The conversation stills after that. But it didn’t feel awkward like it usually does, it just simply felt as if the conversation ended. Both left to your own thoughts. You’re ashamed that most of your thoughts were about the man driving.

It’s quiet for the rest of the ride, only hearing the light music play from the radio. Neither of you felt it was necessary to restart conversation. After about half an hour, you had reached your destination. Daichi pulls into a random spot and parks the car. The atmosphere is weird between you too. Even though you barely had a conversation, you almost don’t want to leave. You’d never get to see this beautiful stranger again. That thought made your heart heavy.

“Well, thank you for the ride.” You say, fumbling with the seat belt, before taking out your umbrella. you go to pull on the car door to open it.

“W-wait!” You turn back in clear surprise and confusion. The once calm looking man was now blushing heavily, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully, he even looked surprised at himself.

“Do y-you think I could, um, join you?” You feel taken aback at his question. Was this really happening? Are you sure you aren’t in a romantic comedy right now?

After not replying, Daichi felt the sudden need to explain himself. “It’s just all the talk about how things are prettier in the rain made me curious. I-I’m sorry I should have never-”

“Do you have an umbrella?” Daichi clearly wasn’t expecting the question. “Excuse me?”

“Do you have an umbrella, or are we going to have to share one?” His eyes widen in realization, and you see his whole body relax. “I have one in my trunk.” You give him a big smile.

“Well, come on then Daichi-san. I’ll show you what rainy days are all about.” His chest rumbles in a quiet laugh. The sound is music to your ears.

“Please, call me Daichi.”

#writing #fanfic #haikyuu #daichi x reader #sawamura daichi #writing prompt #writer stuff

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itsjustdesire · 1 year

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Tour

Anticipation lingers amongst the colossal crowd, as mist pours over the barely lit stage. Though he has yet to appear, they wait for him; lights blinking, as well as flickering all around the stadium, an open space of excited bodies, and motionless, buzzing equipment.

Then, with clenched fists, there he stands, fixed, confident and tenacious; intensely staring out into the crowd of screaming fans; His dancers posted up next to him, awaiting their queue. Though his pause is unwavering and sustained, the fans are submissive. His presence alone creates solace for them in an unrelenting, menacing society; a world existing outside the boundaries of the show.

Then in an instant and without warning, BAM

The show begins

His fist punches out as music starts thumping, blaring through bulky speakers. The heavy, booming bass activates the audience, while the synchronized motion of him and the dancers' cuts through the misty smoke that envelops the stage.

The admirers are intoxicated, their souls launched into the sprightly performance, eyes glistening from the flashes that emanate from the glitzy, prismatic stage lights that illuminate the vast darkness of the abounding field.

His face is drenched in sweat that slides and drips from his chiseled jaw the more demanding his dancing becomes; Curls damp and thick, bouncing as he jumps and hops to an upbeat, pulsating tune or dangling from atop his forehead as he passionately sings a pensive and fanciful ballad. Wavy rivers of swirly, twisted and coiled tresses; deep ebony and medium length, tucked delicately behind his ears at times, or wild, free and unassuming in others, draping across his shoulders and cradling the back of his neck; his baby hairs slicked down, adhering to the tip of his forehead, down to the sides of his sculpted profile.

Hands burly and strong, with tender, elongated fingers, tightly clutching the microphone; never letting go until he props it up atop the mic-stand.

The light, shimmering material of his sparkly, silver jacket sticks to his chest, arms and torso, while his smooth and velvety black slacks that touch ever so slightly above his feet, hug to his whispy legs. With studded, leather straps that cling to his thighs, wrapping around his lower half.

The slim and tight, strong yet delicate nature of his slender body is quite evident, the lustrous top creating ripples in the material as he bends and dips; the bottom, rigidly grasping his taut derrière

Hips swinging from side to side, back and forth as his shiny, sterling silver belt pops with each thrust of his pelvis, initiating exciting momentum among the ocean of spectators

More agile than the most graceful ballet dancer, his durable, swift feet slide and glide smoothly across the surface of the stage; the torn, stretched, vintage leather of his Florsheim loafers cradling comfortably to each foot as he stomps, jumps, and shimmies across and atop the smooth, hardened surface

Face focused, jaw clenched, eyes sparkling and sometimes intense, eyelids shut tightly and lips curled and wide as he sings each and every note with ease.

The fluttering, stuttering, stammering, fleeting, joyous, and enticing confessions, exclamations and manifestos of his voice, serenading the patient, loving and watchful eyes of his audience.

His sweet, sensual vibrato seducing the minds, bodies and souls of the fans.

Whether he peers out into the wide, screaming, crying, pleading sea of his most beloved and loyal ; or gazes up towards the heavens, as him and the god of all creation become one, he's at peace.

Onstage, He's home.

The ethereal space; his convivial place

During his most alluring ballads, one of the select few is summoned; an exuberant female fan, whose wish is granted if only for a moment, as she shares the stage with her hero, her love.

As the rest of the crowd gawks closely behind her

Some yearning to be in her place; others exuberant that one of their own has been called up by the king, her eyes widen as she listlessly jaunts towards him, his arms spread out ever so slightly, welcoming her into a tender embrace. His luminous, broad and cheeky grin, causes her to melt in his assuring grasp.

He utters the melodic words so elegantly, yet distinctly in her ear.

Her eyes engulfed in tears, she feels copious amounts of utter bliss

And her heart flutters as her and the enticing angel become one, swaying from side to side, holding onto each other firmly

In that moment, though it is evident that his attention is cast on everyone, to her this wispy, fluttering ballad is all about her. It's dedicated to her

Only her, and no one else as in that uninterrupted moment, He has her heart and she has his.

This is the grandest form of ecstasy that she's ever felt in existence.

For a moment, her fantasy had become a gratifying, enchanting reality before she is ushered away from him. And although her time with him comes to an unwarranted end, she's satisfied.

Satisfied with the fact that she was near him,

With her body pressed up against his while he serenaded her

She has experienced heightened exuberance

Forever dreaming of the short time she shared with him, experiencing his aura.

The fans

His most cherished family

They adore him; live and breathe him

He's as essential to them as the air in their lungs

Hearts racing and pounding briskly for him

Tears flowing from glistening and intense eyes, with faces twisted and sobbing, which show just how much he means to them

Chanting his name, screaming exclamations of adulation, devotion and yearning

A roaring crowd that's full of life, giving their undivided attentions to him.

Whether wild, and erratic, shouting their hearts out and fainting, or calm, complacent and in awe, they react to him

To every jolt of his body

To every whimsical stammer of his voice

For them, it isn't merely a show

It's an escape

A promising ray of light in a bleak, merciless world

A rainbow, daintily permeating through the jilted darkness.

#writtenin2013

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taran-chan · 2 years

Text

where we could dream away all day (chapter 6)

Read on AO3

we’ve been far away from my fears

“There we go,” Gil put a large plate of watermelon and a barley tea jug down on the porch. Kingo whistled and grabbed a piece, didn’t even stop talking for a moment.

“Where were we again?” He asked.

“I asked you whether we could extract my power to make a protection charm and Thena said no, then she told you to explain so she could check if you remember the “fundamental knowledge”,” Gil replied, pouring a cup of tea and placed it on the table for Thena, didn’t forget to use a coaster so it wouldn’t wet the surface. She was re-writing their ghost stories into one of the special scrolls from the temple. It looked like she had returned to herself after what had happened there last night and got to work right away.

“Here’s the thing,” Kingo says, “Your power, when it still remains in your body, also known as the host, it’s much stronger than when it’s extracted into an item. Therefore, if you were planning on extracting it into a charm like Thena’s, forget it, before you can create a strong enough charm from your power, your energy and vitality will run out first. In other words, you’ll die. Go to the other side. Pass away. Take a dirt nap.”

“Got it,” Gil exhaled sharply, leaning against the door.

The shower stopped the second Kingo ran through their gate with his backpack covering his head. The garden was brightened up by sunlight pouring through raindrops on the leaves. The wind brought birds’ chirping and windchimes’ clinking to them, making the ever-blooming bougainvilleas and other wildflowers all the more lively. The view was appropriate for a weekend hanging out between friends, rather than a meeting to discuss breaking in an elementary school at midnight.

“Do you always do your closure requests at night?” Gil asked. Thena's eyes flicked to him for a second then went back to the scroll.

“Not really,” she said, “Only when necessary.”

“Like when she needs to break and enter some public places, or to find the Beings that are nocturnal. In this case, it’s both,” Kingo continued, grabbing the second piece of watermelon with one hand, the other took from his backpack a big, rusty key and gave it to Gil.

“By the way, I got you the key for the back gate's lock.”

“How did you get it?” Gil asked.

“I pulled some strings,” the editor shrugged, and added when he saw the other man’s expression, “Nothing illegal.”

“Don’t speak while you’re eating, Kingo,” Thena frowned, “Disgusting.”

“You’d better hurry, I’m about to eat them all,” he fired back, “This watermelon is so good. And while we’re talking about hurrying, people are wondering when you will release a new book. Not just your fans, the publisher just asked me like…this morning. They said this is your longest hiatus.”

“So? Are they going to fire me?” She said, not even looking up from her work or pausing her pen.

“Every time,” Kingo groaned, “It’s hard enough urging a writer for her manuscript, what am I supposed to do when she owns the damn publisher?”

“You own a publisher?”

“Your eyes are about to pop out,” Thena commented, her lips twitching as if she wanted to smile, “My mother found the publisher, I just inherit it from her.”

“That’s how rich people talk,” Kingo put his hands up. She rolled her eyes tiredly as if it wasn’t the first time she heard that from him.

Gil earned a surprised smile from her when he placed a smaller plate, with some watermelon cut into tidy square pieces, onto the coffee table, along with a fork.

“Just in case Kingo inhales them all before you finish,” he winks.

“That’s wise,” Kingo jumped in, swallowing his third or fourth piece. Thena picked up the fork, piercing a piece and bringing it to her mouth. Her soft, plump lips slightly opened, catching the sweet and cold fruit. Gil held his breath when she moved her hair to one shoulder, revealing her porcelain neck. That, and her profile which looked like it was sculpted by the gods, were the only parts of her skin that the sun was able to touch. And by the lord, maybe it was aware of that and was trying its best to praise her beauty whenever it could. The weather is quite warm so her robe was hanging on the back of her couch, but she was still wearing a long-sleeved T-shirt. And didn’t think he ever saw her wearing an outfit that exposes too much of her arms.

A strange spot appeared on her cheek, turned out it was only her fountain pen reflecting the sun when she tilted it a bit to think. Its body was glossy black, the tip was sharp and thin, probably made of gold, and apparently it didn’t need any ink to write. He had never seen it before. Thena always used common blue ballpoint pens for her draft and red pens to edit manuscripts from other authors. His train of thought was interrupted because Kingo poked at him and handed him his phone. Gil looked down at the screen and saw the editor had typed into his note app three words: You are staring.

Gil felt the heat spread from his neck to his ears. He rubbed his nose and moved his eyes to the garden, flustered. Kingo typed into his phone and handed it out again, making Gil’s ears burn even hotter.

I’m rooting for you, pal.

He snatched the phone to type his answer.

Why do we have to talk this way?

She has very good ears. She can hear everything. You wouldn’t want her to know you were staring at her, right?

“I was just wondering about her fountain pen,” he mumbled.

“This one?” Thena asked, twirling the pen between her long fingers. Kingo threw him a look that said “I told you so”.

“Uh...Yeah,” Gil stammered, “It's just that I’ve never seen it before. Nice pen though. I can’t remember the last time I saw someone use a fountain pen.”

“I only use it to write completed stories into the scrolls,” Thena said, confirming his theory.

“It’s from Ajak. For every generation, they get a new one,” Kingo snapped his fingers at the pen, “It has magic inside so it’s very durable, can’t be broken. And when are you going to stop my pop quiz?”

“Take it easy man, it helps. I learn quite a lot from you guys this morning,” Gil said, “I barely know anything.”

“Don’t worry, this request isn’t that dangerous,” Kingo patted his shoulder, “And you have that rare purified power, I’m sure you’ll be fine. Here, let me teach you more about Bookworms.”

When they finished the watermelon, Gil went back into the kitchen to peel some oranges. Kingo took off his shoes and sat cross-legged comfortably on the porch. The wood sculptor returned just as Thena put a period at the end of the last sentence. She dropped her pen, skillfully rolled up the scroll, then flopped over as if writing drained every bit of her energy. She peeked one eye open when she heard something crinkling by her ear. Gil was kneeling next to her head, touching a big caramel candy to her cheek. He smiled apologetically.

“Can I ask you something about our plan? If you’re too tired, it can wait.”

“Is this bribing?” She took the candy, her forefinger tapping on his.

“I think some sugar might help, and some light as well,” he jerked his head toward the porch.

Thena nodded, slowly sat up. Gil almost gave her his hand to hold on, but eventually he touched her shoulder for a short moment.

Thena settled across from Kingo and his drawings and notes about Bookworm, he even got blueprints of the school and its library. Gil sat down next to her. She drew her knees up and put her chin on them, exhaling deeply in the sun of a late summer morning. She and her garden of light, gorgeous as a painting. Gil chuckled to himself when he heard the candy crinkle in her palm.

“What’s your question?” She purred, her voice light as the sound of a bird's wings, and oh-so-sweet. Gil cleared his throat and began.

“Kingo said Bookworm looks like a snake, but a lot thinner and faster so it’s very hard to cut or stab it, so I’m confused about Ajak’s knife. How do we use the knife to catch it?”

“I mentioned a special mixture to catch Bookworms, remember?” She asked, tearing the candy wrap and popping the brown sweet into her mouth. He nodded, trying to drag himself out of the alluring scent like a spring meadow as her shoulder brushed his.

“Ajak said it wouldn’t be enough to hold this one down so I’m planning to combine both. We’ll spread the glue on some books that haven’t got eaten in the school library to bait it. When it reaches the books, our glue will slow it down, then we’ll be able to find its weak spot and attack. And you’ll spot its movements easier if it got all the pages stuck to its sides. If we get lucky and don’t encounter any Uncleans, it won’t take longer than an hour.”

“I understand, I’ll try my best to assist you.”

“And I’ll have a new one-shot from Minerva for the magazine’s next issue,” Kingo clapped like an overjoyed seal, “Bravo Thena and her partner, bravo Ajak, bravo the magic knife and Bookworm glue!”

Thena ignored when Gil flicked watermelon seeds at him.

★

“Last chance to get out,” Thena speaks up, her arms crossed and her back to the wall next to the school’s back gate. Scattered streetlights and moonlight were the only sources of light around the place. The buildings, stores and houses nearby were all closed up. Pitch-black windows from the three-story building stared down at them threateningly. Gil watched the steel gates, as rusty as the key on his hand, on top of them were steel spikes pointing upwards, but the wall Thena was leaning against was smooth and very easy for an adult to climb up, if they weren’t as big as he was. He looked over to her, who was still waiting for his answer.

“And I’ll say it again,” he patiently replied, but his patience was wearing off because she kept telling him that since before dinner, “Thena, I’m coming with you. I’ll be careful, I won’t stand in your way and I’ll help you finish the request if you need.”

Thena sighed resignedly, straightened herself, “Alright then, help me up. I’ll get in first and open the gate for you.”

Gil scanned the street to make sure there was no one around, before lacing his hands so she could step on and jump on the wall.

“Don’t ditch me, okay?” He said, passing her the key, and then she disappeared to the other side.

Her feet touched the ground with barely any sound. Just as Kingo had said, the old gate was reinforced by a huge lock. She put the key into the lock and paused. This is her chance to tell him to go back, or at least keep him out there and safe. But would it help though? That little voice inside her head spoke up again. He had followed her all the way here, would he obediently go home or wait outside until she was done? Was she sure that he wouldn’t try to find another way in? And he wouldn’t be so thrilled if she treated him that way, she didn’t want that.

Gil sighed in relief as the lock clicked open, a few seconds later one side of the gate squeaked and Thena’s head poked through.

“Ready?” She asked.

“Ready when you are.”

“Let’s go.”

They quietly walked across the empty parking lot and schoolyard to enter the building. Gil was glad that tonight was a cloudless night. The moonlight stretched their shadows on the ground, even pouring into the halls. Thena pull out two small flashlights from her bag and gave him one.

“Are you feeling nauseous or smelling anything weird?”

“I feel somewhat uncomfortable, but nothing serious,” she contemplated, “Places that are filled with memories, experiences or emotions would more than often attract supernatural Beings. Kingo also said besides the Bookworm, it looks like something else has been causing strange events here.”

“So, where do you want to start?”

“The library,” Thena said and led the way. They had spent most of the day studying the blueprints, trying to memorize the rooms that had been attacked by the Bug, and all those fire escapes for emergencies. Gilgamesh stepped in here ready for a fight; he had expected the darkness, but he hadn’t thought it would be this quiet. If it weren’t for the shuffling of their feet on the floor and his own heartbeats, he would think every sound is sucked up by something, maybe some other Bugs, like letters were swallowed in Kingo’s photos of those books. And that would be the worst, because he was already unable to see them.

They went upstairs and the library was right there, the first room of the hall. Thena pushed at the thick wooden doors and they wouldn’t budge.

“Stupid Kingo forgot to get us the library key,” she grumbled, rummaging around her bag and finding her Swiss army knife.

“If you don’t want to be involved in this crime, look away,” she deadpanned.

“Don’t make me laugh, or everything that’s sleeping in this school will wake up,” Gil warned.

She struggled with the lock for about a minute before it gave way. They entered and he looked at her questioningly. She shook her head, “I don’t see anything. Bugs aren’t sinister Beings so I can’t feel them. It’s probably hiding in here, probably not. First, let’s find some ‘fresh’ books as bait. When you found them, spread this mixture on the covers,” she handed him a plastic jar containing something that looked like blue glue, “We’ll stack the book in the empty space here, so when it’s trapped we can act quickly. And try not to make noise, it could be anywhere and might be pretty big by now.”

“Understood,” he said, “Let’s meet here after fifteen minutes?”

She nodded and they went in separate directions of the large library. Finding books that haven’t been eaten was harder than Gil initially thought. It seemed like the school had surrendered to what they must have thought was a prank and just left the ruined books there without replacing them. The condition of the books got worse and worse as he approached further inside, it seemed like this thing ate books from the inside out. He made a round and moved back to the shelves at the outer ring, trying to push away the ruined books to check on the ones that lodged deeper at the higher layer, and by doing that he did find a small pile before their 15 minutes was up. He hurriedly returned to the space at the entrance. There was another small pile of books there, no doubt they were Thena’s findings, but she was nowhere to be seen. Her bag was abandoned a few steps next to them.

“Thena?” He called out, be careful to keep his voice down still. No one answered.

★

Five minutes earlier

Thena stood in front of a shelf, stacking another untouched book about pirates on her own small pile of books, already smeared with her special glue. She hoped those books and whatever Gil could find would be enough to lure the Bug to them. She put the jar back into her bag, slung it over her shoulder, and picked up the books. When she reached the empty space, her flashlight shone just in time for her to see Gil’s silhouette move past the doors and walked down the hallway. Why did he suddenly leave the library? Did he find something? She put the books and her bag onto the floor, running out with her flashlight and Ajak’s knife.

The hall was completely deserted, the moonlight no longer shone through. It was concealed by the clouds. She had the urge to call out to him but she might stir something else, something that must not know his name. She cursed herself for having left her phone at home. Maybe he was just searching in one of the classrooms. She started moving forward, a fear grew inside her that he might be in danger and hadn’t had any chances to shout for help.

She pointed her flashlight at the windows of the first classroom; nothing but desks and chairs and everything else that a normal classroom always has. So did the second one. But then a lot of things happened at the same time. She heard laughter, a children’s giggle but more sinister, echoing in the quiet hall. Her flashlight flickered and died out when the classroom door at the end of the hall creaked open. Her nose was hit by that familiar odor and she squeezed the knife, her only weapon. She took two steps ahead, her panic gasp was muffled by a hand covering her mouth from the back, another hand wrapped around hers to stop her from drawing the knife and stabbing him.

“It’s me, it’s me. I’m sorry,” Gil said, holding her closer to his chest. His warmth wafted over her and his power chased away her nausea.

“Why did you leave the library?” She whispered after turning around to face him.

“I was looking for you, I thought you found something. You disappeared from the library and when I looked out here I saw you walking down the hall. I thought something was off so I ran to you. What did you see?”

“You,” she replied calmly, “I was tricked. The thing in that room over there wanted to lure me out, so it created an illusion that looks like you. Come on, I have another job for you. We need to get rid of that Unclean if we want to deal with the Bookworm in peace.”

As soon as she finished, the lightbulbs above them flashed off and on. She was staring down at the end of the hall. Through the corner of his eyes, he could only see a floating shadow, darker than the air surrounding it.

“It isn’t as strong as the ones we encountered at the temple, that’s why it has all these tricks,” she continued. The little girl in the blood-soaked dress a few meters away from them kept appearing and disappearing like a common visual effect of horror movies.

“Uncleans can be born in an elementary school environment?” Gil asked in disbelief.

“Usually not, but perhaps the problems that the Bookworm has been creating increased the negative energy. Thoughts such as “It’s pretty boring when only the books are ruined”, “I wish something else stranger would happen”, “Something scarier would be nice” were born in the mind of some students.”

“That’s why the Unclean was born and it can create strange events to scare people, or to lure you,” he concluded. Thena silently agreed, her eyes never leaving “the girl”. Its head crooked aside like it was broken, its body shook, about to transform. It probably realized the tricks didn’t work on her anymore.

“If we don’t do anything, the events will get more and more serious until someone actually dies.”

“What’s your plan?”

“I’ll be your eyes. When it attacks, I’ll tell you where to hit, okay?” She watched as the Unclean’s head grew from its disguise like a snake shedding its skin.

“Alright, stay back.”

She moved behind him, a few spaces away from him so he could move freely but not too far from his protection. The Unclean noticed right away and snarled at Gil, who was standing between it and a delicious prey. This one was just as big as a grown human being, they both had seen scarier things.

“It’s right in front of us and is about to attack. When I signal, give a straight punch,” she instructed, “Then try to keep up with me.”

“Gotcha,” Gil said, getting into his fighting posture, feeling all his nerves tense, all his senses on alert.

“Now!”

Gil swung his arm as hard as he could, pushing the power from within him like it was his second nature. But as soon as the punch was thrown, he knew he’d missed, or at least it dodged most of the impact. The windows rattled as if something just hit the wall below them.

“On your left!” Thena shouted. With excellent reflexes, he struck immediately. This time he didn’t miss, he felt his power hit it directly, spreading and dissolving into the air. He didn’t dare to turn and look at Thena though, for fear he might be wrong. It was not until she touched his shoulder and told him that it was gone that he relaxed and dropped his arms.

“We did it,” he grinned.

“Not bad for a beginner,” she smirked.

“Give me five,” he raised his hand again, waiting. Her fingers twitched but she hadn't had a chance to do anything when came a loud noise from the library; a noise that sounded like a large creature was thrashing around, throwing books from shelves.

“Damn it!” Thena said, then ran toward the noise, with Gil close behind.

The library was in a whole different stage compared to when they left it. Books were scattered on the floor, a shelf was on the verge of collapsing in a corner of the room, and the pile of books that they prepared was tossed around as if something was rummaging through it. Gil couldn’t see the Bug, he could only imagine based on a drawing of a Bookworm that Kingo had shown him that morning. A very long creature, only thicker than a sewing thread, its body was inky black and created from the letters it consumed, attached together into a string, with a head similar to a venomous snake and two sharp fangs. An ordinary Bookworm wasn’t longer than a human arm, but with the way the pages were torn mercilessly like that, this one obviously as big as a boa.

“It’s stuck in the glue!” Thena drew her knife, the silver blade gleaming under his flashlight, “Let’s restraint it, I’ll tell you where to grab on.”

They jumped at the books. Thena reached out and grabbed behind its head like it was an actual snake. With her instructions, he also managed to catch it by its body. He gritted his teeth, enduring the whips of its tail, pinning it down. But by then, the mixture reached its limits and wasn’t able to hold a Bug that size and fell off just as she was about to stab its head. The Bookworm knocked the knife out of her hand with a strong thrash and sent it flying across the room. If she hadn't dodged in time, she would have lost her hand to its fangs.

“Get out of the way, it’s coming at you!” She only had a few seconds to warn Gil before it turned on him, who was still holding it, but that was enough for him to roll to the side, avoiding its jaw. It hissed at him and Thena threw a book at it, getting its attention. She turned and ran in between the shelves, with a 2-meters-length Bug close on her heels.

“Thena!”

“Get the knife!” She yelled back while pushing more books off the shelves to slow it down. the gears in her head running at full speed trying to figure out another way. Ajak always gave her enough information and tools to conduct a request. She must have missed something. What was it? The knife, the mixture, Gilgamesh…

“Gil! Get the manuscript from my bag!” She dodged as the Bug crashed into the shelf right above her head, missed her by a hair and poured a bunch of comic books to the floor. Meanwhile, Gil had retrieved the knife and pulled out some papers from Thena’s bag nearby. He recognized they were the manuscript of their ghost stories. He followed the noise to find her. Thena had almost circled the library, she appeared in front of him in the science section, her hair looked wild as a lion’s mane. Their eyes met and she didn’t notice the creature had slammed itself into a shelf, but Gil did. He rushed toward her just as the entire shelf collapsed and Thena put her hands over her head. He shoved himself between it and her. Books fell everywhere, burying the Bug, except where she was crouching because his back and arms had blocked them all.

“Go!” He urged. Thena scrambled to get up, taking the knife and the manuscript from him. She took off again, this time chasing after the Bookworm, which had dug itself out of the mess. He waited until she disappeared from his view to wriggle his way out of there, creating a small domino effect as the shelf toppled over and dragged two other shelves with it.

Thena was able to block the Bug’s escape. She offered her bait.

“Hungry, aren’t you?” She threw the papers onto the ground and stepped back, letting it devour the stories written there. It turned out Ajak had another purpose when she told them, especially Gil, to come and tell those stories. His power not only could be passed from his body to the items he made, but also to the story he told and written down by her. Even though it wasn’t as strong when dispersed, that much was enough to deal with a Bug. When it touched the letters from his story, its whole body shivered hard then started to tie itself up into big knots. Soon, it was immobilized and all Thena had to do was step up and stab it. Gil approached and she held up what was once a massive Bookworm. He could see it now; a very large, black ball of thread.

“You alright?” She asked.

“I’m good.”

“Ajak will pay sweetly for this,” she mused.

“What does it do?” He asked, “And how did you know to use the manuscript?”

She just shrugged.

“You really are a genius, you know?”

“Just experienced,” she said finally, feeling the blood rush to her cheeks, “Anyways, we can go home now. Hurry, I still have to make a rough draft for this.”

“We just leave everything like this? We trashed the whole library.”

“I know, that’s why we have to go before the security comes. The noises we’ve been making must have woken the entire neighbourhood,” Thena put her things into her bag and made a beeline to the door, didn’t even check if Gilgamesh was following. They sneaked out through the fire escape. Gil got out first, Thena stayed to lock the gate from the inside before once again climbing over the wall. She jumped down next to him at the same time two police cars passed, only a street away from them, heading to the school’s front gate. They just have to turn their backs, choosing a shortcut in the opposite direction to go home.

★

The clouds had cleared, the moon had risen, stretching their shadows into two long shapes for the second time that night. They passed a closed-up Chinese restaurant, a couple of red lanterns hung on the entrance, still flickering and swaying gently in the wind, and Gil couldn't help but wonder if there were any ghosts following them. He was rubbing at his sore shoulder while he walked, he thought a book had landed on him the wrong way when he held back that shelf. And he kept stealing glances at Thena. Her hair almost white under the silver moonlight and her deep eyes made her seem unreal, ghostly but intoxicating. She looked up all of a sudden, catching his gaze, quickly and unhesitantly as catching a firefly into a jar. But then she sighed, her shoulders dropped as if the adrenaline had gone completely.

“What happened back then was a mistake,” she said, “I shouldn’t be tricked so easily. It’s because I’ve never had a partner, I’ve never had to worry about anyone else’s safety except my own.”

“I understand. You mean you don’t want my company in the next requests?”

He felt a boulder lift off his chest when she shook her head.

“If it weren’t for you, I might still be struggling with the Bug,” she admitted, “I just want to say that we need to be more cautious from now on.”

“Look, you don’t have to worry for me. I’m not dumb, you know? I won’t do anything without asking you first, you’re the expert here,” he nudged her a bit, “Let’s just stick together in the next ones, if possible.”

“Very well,” she smirked.

“Why do you do these closure requests though? I mean, I know it’s a part of the tradition, but are there any reasons for that?”

“Because the effects brought from those stories are stronger,” she said before she could consider it. There she goes again! This is the second time she casually said things that shouldn't be said to him. If she kept letting her guard down like this, he’d probably know about it at the end of the month.

“What do you mean “effects”?”

“It’s nothing, Gilgamesh. It’s nothing you need to know,” she looked away, using a tone that clearly wanted to end the conversation. He noticed the way she anxiously pulled her sleeves down lower, covering her entire arms and wrists. She increased her pace to walk ahead of him.

“Come along. Your back must be hurt from carrying that shelf. I’ll give you some pain relief patches.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

★

“Take off your shirt.”

“What?!”

“Take off your shirt,” Thena repeated patiently, holding up a few patches, “Or do you want to do it by yourself?”

“With these muscles, I couldn’t even if I wanted to,” he laughed, “Thanks.”

She kneeled behind him as he sat down by the front door and took his shirt off. She touched his shoulders and back and he told her where to put the patches. If she saw his ears were bright red, she didn’t say anything. Her cold fingers drifted across his back, from one shoulder blade to another. Gil wiggled at the spot, not sure if he wanted to scoot away or closer to her.

“Stay still,” she complained, her voice seeming to be even lower in the middle of the night. He stopped moving altogether, trying to find something to distract himself.

“Where did you learn your fighting skills?” She asked, “And your reflexes are very good too.”

“I was a gangster once.”

“Seriously?”

“No,” he snorted, “I was a boxer until I’m 30. It was a long time ago so now I’m a little rusty.”

“Rusty isn’t so bad,” she patted the patch she just put on him, smoothing it nicely, “You will get bruises tomorrow. Remind me to change the patches for you.”

He put his shirt on and turned to face her. They were close to the point that her knees and his shins touched. Thena tucked some of her hair behind her ear and went on, “Also, we have to think of a way for me to repay you for tonight.”

“You just did,” He pointed at his shoulder.

“That’s not enough. You heard Ajak, if the price isn’t fair, there will be consequences for the both of us.”

“What’s your idea?”

“I could waive this month's rent, of course you don't need to cook.”

“Or you could write me a story?” He paused to gauge her reactions, but she only stared at him confusingly, “Like when you do the homework for your writing class. From now on, whenever I help you with something, after that I’ll give you three random subjects and you’ll write me a story, as long or short as you want. Is that okay?”

“Why?”

“I just want to read more of your story,” he smiles, “Besides, I think it’d be easy for you because it’s already your specialty.”

“This is the first time I got a request like that. First, give me your hand, I need to weigh the price to see if it’s enough.”

He didn’t hesitate when he put his hand on hers. She closed her eyes as if to feel something and he got a moment to sit there and watch her. Her hair fluttered, perhaps because of her mystic ability. Eventually, she opened her eyes, gracefully moved their folded hands into a handshake.

“I didn’t expect this, but it’s a fair price.”

“So we have a deal?”

“Deal.”

He squeezed her hand slightly and she squeezed back.

“Want some tea?”

“I could use some tea,” she stood and pulled him along, “I still have a draft to write before bed.”

“Coming right up,” he headed to the kitchen, “Meanwhile, I’ll think of three subjects for the first story.”

“Great, more work,” She muttered and he laughed.

#thenamesh #thenamesh fanfic #thena x gilgamesh #gilgamesh x thena #thena #gilgamesh #eternals

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sweetthepotato · 7 months

Text

The Final Pillar: Chapter 9: A Crowd's a Company

Disclaimer*

Keep in mind that this fic is meant for mature audiences or people who don't mind awkward, cringe comedy.

Masterpost

Chapter 8

Chapter Summary

Kagome meets the members of her team. There's at least one member who's not impressed.

Contents

Awkward first introductions. New OCs become involved.

Very brief sexual references (nothing graphic, because oh god no). Genya uses foul language... are we surprised?

Genya swallowed his disappointment at overhearing a soft, albeit distorted, voice from under the floor of his room. So, instead of his older brother, or even Himejima or Kocho, of whom he thought of warmly, this was a different hashira altogether.

There was a part of him that was still curious as to the identity of this so-called pillar, which he repressed with a vehemence. The indignant part of his brain reminded him of the past week or so where he had to stay cooped up in his room, annoyed to death by the antics of the other members of his squad.

It was two hours later when he decided to bite the bullet. He walked down the narrow stairway towards the shared living space, spotting the stranger at the far end of the rectangular table. He appeared to be engrossed in a book, which appeared to have a title that spanned the length of its spine at least twice over.

The hashira, upon first impression, looked a lot smaller than he’d imagined. Perhaps, upon further inspection, he was a head or so taller than the Insect Breathing user he visited on a regular basis, which wasn’t saying much about the guy’s height.

The most notable feature about him, Genya saw, was the rather obvious oni mask he wore on his face. From the side, he could see the embossing and etching of his mask, which even from a distance, he could at least appreciate the expert craftsmanship. Despite being in poor taste, considering their line of work, he could hazard a guess as to why most of the hashira’s skin was covered with additional fabrics and bandages; a disfigurement of some kind, perhaps. It was disturbing to contemplate on someone who seemed to be so young, but more unfortunate things have happened.

The expression of the mask was in stark contrast to his overall calm demeanour. While the shape of its mouth was sculpted into a snarl, with the fangs jutting out menacingly, he was sitting slack, an elbow propped onto the table for support. His haori, a mostly teal garment with a kind of criss-cross design, was re-stitched in a kind of way that almost appeared too rugged for such a slim body.

Despite his ill-concealed gawking, which would’ve earnt him a talking to from his shisho at any other point in time, the boy opposite him seemed completely unbothered. He just sat there, not pausing his current activity at all to acknowledge his existence.

Genya found that there was an uncomfortable period of silence that filled their space, now they were waiting for the other two slayers to join them downstairs. He heard the sound of another page turn, and the pillar, still remaining in his comfortable position, decided to sit up and closed his novel. His back straight, his mask was staring directly at him.

Finally, he thought, with much exasperation. He was a quiet fellow, breathing in and out as if sighing, and spoke, ‘I understand that you and the other slayers have all arrived here earlier than I have. For that, I apologise for my tardiness,’ he began, breathing out a monotonous voice that was muffled by the covering over his face, ‘I would like to introduce myself, but I am unsure if having only one of you here would be the best time for it.’

Now that he had the full profile of the mask, Genya felt odd at having been looked at so intensely. On the inside, his blood seethed at the cocktail of boredom, irritation and disappointment mixing and stirring within his body. He didn’t want to underestimate anyone, let alone a hashira, but the one sitting before him looked more than a few years younger than himself. He looked to be less of a teenager, and more of a mere, small child wearing the black, standard uniform.

All of a sudden, he heard the thumping of footsteps from up above the stairway.

‘Sorry for making you wait,’ the female demon slayer sang out, in the middle of walking her way towards them. She held the hand of a male slayer, who was red at the face at the blatant display of affection.

Genya wanted to puke.

As they landed on the same floor as they were, the male startled at the hashira sitting before them.

Kagome silently mourned having to put her novel away, but the current mission was a more pressing matter. She thought about how she would want to be led, and concluded that she ought to become a force of reassurance, first of all, by acting in a calm manner. Looking up at them, already gathering a sense of their various personalities, she noted the appearances of her team.

The teenager sitting at the other end of her table had the most unique features, compared to the other members. His hair was shaved at the sides, leaving a tuft of black growing atop his head. Somehow, his demeanour looked eerily similar to someone she’d met previously, but she couldn’t figure out how as of yet. A scowl seemed to be tattooed permanently on his face, his eyes wide and judgemental. The haori, which was wrapped around his uniform, was sleeveless. It was coloured in two shades of purple, a lighter one that spanned across his chest, and then a darker one that continued for much of the rest of it. A scar that spanned from his right cheekbone and over his nose, however, was the most noticeable thing about him, and the jagged edges of it seemed to coordinate well with his perpetually annoyed expression.

The girl, who looked to be in her late teens, was dressed in the default girls’ uniform, which made the brunette glad she was able to tailor hers back at the compound using scraps and parts from previous iterations. The centre of her chest was bare for all to see, and her skirt reached higher than her mid-thigh. She was rather pretty, Kagome thought, her face completely unblemished and her eyes the same colour as crushed up sesame seeds. Her shoulder-length, dark hair was tied into a low ponytail at the side of her neck, but instead of the straight texture of most Japanese, hers had a slight wave that made her look doll-like.

She smiled, confidently, hand clutching at her male partner, who seemed rather shy for a fellow demon slayer. His round face contained ruddy cheeks, which looked as though there was something to feel embarrassed about. Compared to the girl next to her, he was slightly shorter, and a year or so younger, too. His fine, black hair was shorn closer to the back of his head, and his eye dotted with a brown mole. On the edge of his jaw, sported a rather large wine-coloured birthmark.

Her processing the visual information before her, she looked around once more and introduced herself.

‘Pleased to meet all of you,’ she started, ‘For those of you who’ve just joined us, I apologise for making you wait this past week. It’s been arranged that I will be your team leader for this mission. You may refer to me as “Kagome”, though I don’t particularly care for honorifics or nicknames.’

She looked around her, seeing the three lower ranks in front of her listening intently. She gathered the impression that they wanted to address the most pressing matter, but something within her made her sigh, ‘We’ll have to address the mission brief at some point, but as we will be working together for the next few days, I’d like us to introduce ourselves.’

The girl, propping up her hand, chirped up first, ‘Hi! I’m Umi Shinbayashi, eighteen years old!’ She smiled, her white teeth poking through her pink lips, ‘Pleased to meet you finally!’

The boy had his side nudged by Shinbayashi’s elbow, and he stiffened up straight, ‘Uh… I’m Masato Karata. Umi and I were trained i-in Mist Breathing by the same cultivator.’ He bowed slightly in her direction, the redness of his face refusing to fade.

‘I look forward to working with you both,’ Kagome nodded politely. She turned towards the last of the group, who was watching the interaction with a small frown.

Introductions were always such a chore, and on most occasions, he wouldn’t have even bothered to attend them on group missions. However, the pillar’s gaze upon him felt heavy and oppressive. His voice sounded like it belonged to a young, boyish sort of person, and considering his frequent use of the word ‘boku’ Genya couldn’t help but imagine some kind of kid, on the beginnings of his adolescence, sitting behind that mask of his.

Admittedly, the name ‘Kagome’ threw him off for a second; it seemed too girly to what he was presented with so far. He considered that, from the way he introduced himself, that it was some kind of nickname, rather than a given name. It had to be, he thought, unable to conceive of any explanation that was much simpler. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t already met a few other demon slayers who shared a similar affinity for androgyny, in any case; the Demon Slayer Corps seemed to draw a diverse array of characters, after all. Sizing the kid up, he re-considered the criss-cross pattern on his haori as a combination of repeated hexagons and stars, and he instantly recognised the intention behind the name. It was a bit too much on the nose, though.

Feeling Kagome’s eyes still boring into him from the opposite end of the table, he shuffled uncomfortably in the fabric of his clothes. Well, if he was going to have to participate in this meaningless team-building session, then he wouldn’t pretend that he was particularly happy about it.

‘Genya Shinazugawa,’ he grumbled.

The kid nodded back at him in lieu of a verbal reply, noting the different energies around the room. Genya wanted to curl up from the shame of his circumstances, which was adding additional salt to his emotional wounds. It was embarrassing, first, from being surrounded by team members who seemed to treat this mission like a personal holiday. Then, second, from the burning humiliation of being led by a much younger, punier hashira, of all possible people.

If the masked pillar noticed anything about his disdain, he didn’t mention it. Instead, he appeared to muse to himself, taking a short inhale, ‘Again, pleased to meet all of you. We should, at some point tomorrow, discuss our mission and any observations or thoughts we have so far,’ he began. ‘But for now, as it is quite late in the evening-’ no shit, Genya thought ‘-I believe it is best that you rest as best as you can. I may need to settle into a room, though.’

He turned his head towards Shinbayashi’s direction, for some weird reason, who reddened at what was being implied, ‘O-oh! Kagome-san, uh… it’s been a while since ‘sato-kun and I were able to reconnect, so we’ve been sharing the same room for the past four days,’ she explained with an awkward chuckle.

At least Kagome was able to embarrass someone else, Genya huffed internally. He glared at the Mist witch, whose noise in the common area was a constant source of his growing migraines. ‘Reconnect’, indeed, if that meant fu-

‘-Are there any other rooms?’

‘There’s only one other, so you’d probably be sharing with Genya-kun,’ Shinbayashi suggested, causing the said teenager to choke down a noise of protest.

‘Genya-san,’ the pillar said, testing out the use of his given name, to his growing indignation, ‘I’ll be in your care, then.’ Kagome nodded in his direction, and then looked around the room, across the members of his team.

Kagome took out items from the tenbukuro attached to the ceiling of the room she was sharing with Genya. She withdrew from the cupboard a futon, meandering over to the far-right corner and laying it down flat. She pondered for some time over her team members’ respective jikoshokai and sighed. Her roommate shared the same family name as the Wind Hashira, and from their similar facial expressions, she could tell that they were blood-related somehow. With it being so late in the night, and with only a few more chapters in her current historical reading, she decided that it was too bothersome to entertain anyone else’s family drama for the moment. Although, she grumbled, having one Shinazugawa in the Corps was more than enough.

With a click, she closed the door to the cupboard upon her second trip, and the girl quietly placed her quilted duvet on top of the mattress. She took note of the rough texture of the tatami under her knees, and that it felt damaged enough to guess the number of times guests and the proprietors would be shifting heavy items on top. For a business partnered with the Demon Slayer Corps, she considered how she’d expected slightly more care in the upkeep of her surroundings. She hoped that the family received enough assistance to do well-needed repairs and replacements.

She felt the penetrating stare of her roommate, his tall stature leaning against the frame in the doorway. The shoji remained agape, and it was enough of an opening to let the soft murmuring from Shinbayashi and Karata’s room to escape, without much of a need for her to strain her ears. Hidden in the habitat of their room, albeit it being located just next door, the other two slayers were mid-way in their conversation, where it appeared as though she was the key object of discussion. Hunched over her own arrangements, once she was aware that the murmuring was benign enough, the brunette decided to tune it out against the forefront of her current, more menial tasks.

Genya, meanwhile, half-listened to their conversation with a muted feeling of intrigue. The other half of his attention was consumed by observing the hashira in front of him, his form dwarfed by his tall height. Curiously, the boy placed his blades at the most convenient point at the side of his futon, but the teenager didn’t make much of that note.

Shinbayashi, the witch, seemed to be doing most of the gossiping, from what he could overhear. From the incident from this morning, he knew well enough that the walls were evidently thin enough for most noises to peek through.

‘Hey, ‘sato-kun, did you know?’ She whispered, ‘I received word from one of the kakushi… the appointment of a new hashira …same time as the Mount Natagumo mission…’

‘…more than seventy demons…’

His eyebrow raised at that, suppressing a scoff at the young demon slayer in front of him. That, he struggled to imagine.

‘Genya-san,’ Kagome’s voice broke through his period of contemplation, ‘I would like to thank you again for allowing me to impede on your personal space,’ he said. The boy have a half-bow, his polite language and mannerisms unnerving. Admittedly, he was caught off guard by the teenager in front of him, who didn’t act with so much of the self-importance, hard-earnt pride or even the gravitas of the other hashira he’d interacted with before, ‘Please sleep when you are ready; I will be reading more of my novel in the meantime, so please let me know if you would like me to move downstairs.’

Even with his head bent to avoid hitting the low ceiling of the ryokan, the pillar looked too small and meek. He nodded, blandly, but he couldn’t ignore the doubt seeping into his bones. He wished, for another time, that Sanemi were here instead.

#kimetsu no yaiba fanfic #kny fanfic #demon slayer fanfic #demon slayer #demon slayer oc #kimetsu no yaiba oc #kny oc #genya shinazugawa #demon slayer genya

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bellveela · 8 months

Text

"Oh man," he groaned, his cock growing and hardening like a rock once again.

"Now," Irma said, inching closer to Fleur, pressing her further against the wall. "I need to talk to Harry for a while. You don't mind, do you?"

"No, ma'am! Please, be my guest. I mean, his guest. Please, go ahead."

Harry had to admit, he derived some satisfaction from observing how primitive and proper Fleur behaved so nervously.

Irma paused for a moment to whisper something in Tracey's ear, who nodded and led Fleur back to the living room. Harry started to wonder about it, but then Irma led him to the kitchen. Her small pleated skirt swayed as she moved, and he could see the incredibly sculpted lines of her behind. He gripped her arm tightly, turning her towards him, and she responded with a low gasp of pleasure. "What are you thinking? What if my friends, Hermione and Ron, were here?"

"You told me they'd be on patrol tonight, Master." She trailed her finger down his shirt, clearly admiring his chest. "Really?"

Harry's memory from the previous night was fuzzy, to say the least. He only remembered a lot of fucking, mostly.

"Of course, Master. I obey all your commands. You told me last night. You said it would be the hottest thing ever if I showed up dressed as a sexier version of Daphne in her cheerleader outfit. You told me how you'd command me all night, calling me by her name, and you even told me to believe I was her a little bit as soon as you called me by her name."

Oh God. He did it. It seemed so hot at the time. That was when Tracey was giving him a blowjob, and he and Irma were getting all hot and bothered like teenagers—which wasn't an exaggeration for Harry—in his bedroom. Their hands were working on his cock in tandem, and he just said whatever hot things came to his mind.

Now, as he looked at her, everything sorted itself with her amazing body squeezed into the skintight cheerleader outfit... the idea didn't seem any less hot. "Did I disappoint you, Master?"

She looked genuinely frightened. Of course, he had to comfort her, taking her in his arms and kissing her gently. She felt so fragile, so slim and needy in his embrace. It made his cock spring back to life once again. "No, Irma. Not at all. You were a wonderful slave."

Her incredibly sculpted body trembled with orgasm as she came, gazing into his eyes with her large brown eyes. "Thank you, Master. It feels so good to know that I pleased you."

He nodded, knowing how true it was for her. He didn't want to be an especially bad Master, if that's what he was, and he knew for sure that a bad Master was one who wasn't clear about what satisfied him and kept his slaves in perpetual fear. "You were wonderful, truly, Irma. But... but you have to leave."

Irma's head swayed from side to side. "You're attracted to that Veela, aren't you?"

"Of course, she attracts me." He glanced through the door, studying Fleur's profile as she and Tracey browsed the record collection. "Look at her."

"So, should I leave? You really need to fuck her. And I must provide everything you need." "Irma, I don't want to argue with you about this." "That's wonderful, Master."

He wasn't sure if she interpreted it the way he would prefer. He intended to continue, but she spoke too quickly, softly, and persistently. One of her hands slid down to his crotch, so familiar and ready for pleasure.

"Master, it was me who ensured that Filius Flitwick came up with the idea of review sessions for your class. Do you think that's why Fleur put you at the top of her list? That's why you have a night off from studying, and Fleur has a night on her mind."

Oh God. She was just getting her hands in all the pots, wasn't she?

"Irma..."

"Narcissa was involved too. I think she's even doing a better job than me. She recommended that review sessions for the war classes would be necessary. And, conveniently, she suggested Fleur to take on the burden of teachers. She even offered to start similar review sessions for potions exams herself, maybe even make them a permanent thing. You have to admit, Snape has done a lot of harm to the whole of Great Britain by destroying potential future potions masters."

Fuck, the rabbit hole was getting deeper. How many strings did this amazing slave pull at once to ensure that beautiful women would serve him? Did he even want to find out?

And more than that, did he really want to interfere? "It's just... Irma, you know, when you make decisions like this without me..." Continue reading this chapter

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bruh-changbin · 2 years

Text

invasion of privacy

pairing: roommate!heeseung x afab reader

genre: good ol' smut baby (minors dni)

warnings: male masturbation, brief mention of female masturbation, heeseung is a perv and a panty thief, voyeurism (?)

word count: 2k

a/n: the pervy roommate trope has been done to death but it's so good so here's my contribution. enjoy

photos not mine, credits to original owners (retrieved from Pinterest)

heeseung’s down bad.

like, real bad.

but how can you blame him? he has to spend every second of every day living in a shared apartment with you. you, who he’s had a crush on since he first saw you. and the worst thing is, he can’t even do anything about it!

well, technically he could, but the fear of rejection overpowers the feelings of lust and desire. heeseung wouldn’t really say you’re out of his league, but you carry yourself with such poise that it would be somewhat shocking for you to be with a timid guy like him.

that doesn’t stop him from fantasising though.

it started off simple enough. you were making some kind of smoothie in the kitchen and heeseung had just woken up, which was evident in the way his hair was sticking out in every direction.

the interaction was civil as they always were. heeseung apologised as he reached above you to grab a box of lucky charms, and made the mistake of inhaling deeply when he was pressed up right against you.

you smelled good, and he wondered why he had never caught a whiff of your scent before. surely it’s because he had never had a chance to be this close to you. there was a hint of floral; lavender, maybe? no, definitely jasmine. but underneath the perfume or body spray or whatever product it was that made you smell akin to a meadow, there was a scent that was undeniably you.

it made heeseung embarrassingly horny.

he busied himself with the task of preparing his cereal, doing everything in his power to keep his back turned to you out of the fear that you would spot his growing erection if he faced you.

at long last he had managed to fix himself a bowl of lucky charms, albeit he did spill some milk in the process due to his sweaty palms. hurrying back to his room like some sort of cave dweller, he made the fatal mistake of taking a quick glance over his shoulder at your back profile.

of course you’re wearing fucking yoga pants. the exact pair that sculpts your ass, accentuates your hips, and cinches your waist in ways that leaves little to the imagination.

heeseungs door was barely even closed before his fingers hooked onto the elastic band of his boxers, the material pulled down his legs before he spat in his hand and wrapped it around his cock that was already leaking precum.

his cheeks were flushed a deep shade of red as he fisted his dick, his back pressed up against the door that you’re on the other side of, only a few feet away. it only took him a few minutes to finish; his stomach spazzed and his teeth dug into his bottom lip so hard it stung and he finished all over his hand and the hardwood floor. it was disgusting.

dude, you just came to the thought of your fucking roommate. what the fuck?

heeseung tried to shush the little devil perched on his shoulder as he grabbed a fistful of tissues to clean up his mess. this is totally normal. it’s normal to be attracted to someone. it’s normal to get off while thinking of someone you find hot.

he tried to convince himself it was just a one time thing. he woke up horny and you were the first person he saw - you just so happened to be wearing a pair of pants that made you look as if you were sculpted by the gods. simple as that.

still, he couldn’t push away the yucky feeling in his tummy as he stared at his bowl of soggy lucky charms.

how far is it until he’s past the point of no return?

it turns out that that morning in heeseungs bedroom was just the beginning.

he thinks of you day and night, in both romantic and erotic ways.

he likes to imagine what you’re like in bed, and more often than not he closes his eyes while getting himself off so as to convince himself that it’s your hand and not his own. other times, he likes to imagine what it would be like to take care of you after fucking you dumb. he would kiss you and hold you and brush your hair, all while whispering sweet nothings into your ears.

you did so well for me, you’re amazing, i love you.

you’ve been spending a lot more time out of the apartment recently. heeseung has noticed.

he’s also noticed that you tend to leave your bedroom door unlocked, if not fully open.

he feels bad because he knows that you leaving your door open is a sign of trust. you’re comfortable enough leaving the door to your room open knowing that he won’t cross any boundaries. but surely if you leave your door open that means you’re ok with people going inside, right?

heeseungs trips into your room are always short. he tries to convince himself that it’s because he wants to respect your privacy and not that he’s worried you’re going to come barging in and catch him red handed.

plus, if he really did value your privacy he wouldn’t ransack your laundry hamper in search of a pair of your panties that haven’t been washed yet.

he knows it’s wrong, he really does. but the scent of you eats away at his brain and the more he tries to stave himself from it the more he craves it. pink lace, blue cotton, red polyester. it doesn’t matter what colour, what material, what brand; as long as it’s yours, he’s happy.

on nights when heeseung’s all cooped up in his room, he’ll smother his face with your used panties as he gets himself off. a few times he’s tried wrapping the fabric around his cock as he pumps it, but he worries that his release will stain the fabric so he doesn’t do that often.

heeseung knows he’s gone past the point of no return the day he catches you with your hands down your pants.

it’s not his fault! your door was slightly ajar and he could’ve sworn he had heard the front door close about half an hour earlier, so he thought he had the all clear to go do some snooping.

the first thing he noticed was that your room was darker than usual. weird, you probably just forgot to open your blinds. but just as he was about to wrap his hand around the handle of your door and make his way inside, he caught a glimpse of movement on your bed. lo and behold, there you were.

it took everything in him not to gasp or make any sort of noise to give himself away. and for a few seconds he just… watched. he watched your fingers dance underneath the thin cotton of your sleep shorts, your brows furrowed and bottom lip tucked between your teeth.

heeseungs throat got dry and his dick got wet.

without making a sound he managed to slip back into his room and gave himself the best orgasm he’s ever had, his mind plagued with thoughts of you fingering yourself with your pair of white lacy panties shoved against his nose.

it’s just past 11 pm and heeseung’s locked away in his room, as usual. he had planned on spending the night with jake, but opted to stay home for the sake of finishing some upcoming assignments. you had gone out with some friends, and his focus on his studies prevented his brain from convincing him to venture into your room.

the lo-fi beats echoing from his speaker aren’t enough to cover the slam of the front door, followed by your footsteps making their way through the kitchen and living room. you’re home early.

the second heeseung hears another pair of footsteps following behind yours his heart sinks. maybe you just brought one of your friends back and the two of you are going to hang out? but then he hears a man's voice and the undeniable sound of lips and tongues pressing against each other.

please god this can’t be happening.

heeseung tries to ignore it by upping the volume of his music and returning his focus to his calculus assignment, but the walls in your apartment have the integrity of cardboard and the second you and the mystery man step into your room he can hear basically everything.

heeseung knows he shouldn’t be surprised. you’re and adult woman and he’s seen the tinder notifications pop up on the screen of your phone on multiple occasions.

but still, he’s grappling with the fact that this is real and that you, the person he’s had the hots for for months now, are about to have sex with some random guy in the room right beside his.

perhaps this is payback for all of the panties he’s swiped from your room. damn it.

for a while it’s relatively quiet, and heeseung wonders if the two of you somehow fell asleep before getting further than first base - although he knows that’s not the case.

soon enough he can hear your whimpers and groans through the drywall, and his face flushes. the mystery man cusses, and heeseung rolls his eyes. that should be him.

luckily someone answered his prayers as it seems the two of you decided to skip the foreplay and get straight into fucking - if it was him, he would take his time with you. who does this guy think he is? you deserve better.

it starts off slow, and your moans are somewhat muffled; likely due to the guys tongue being shoved down your throat. heeseungs glad this random guy isn’t very vocal, as it allows him to focus on every little noise you make.

he knows he shouldn’t. masturbating to the thought of you is one thing, but masturbating while listening to you get fucked by a different guy? come on heeseung, you’re better than this (he’s not).

as much as he tries to ignore the aching feeling between his legs, it becomes more and more unbearable with each passing second, and he mentally slaps himself when he reaches down to palm at his dick through his grey sweatpants.

it’s quite embarrassing really, the fact that he’s basically fully hard as he continues to massage his cock through his pants. the relief it brings him is indescribable, and he finds himself somewhat rutting his hips against his hand.

through the wall he can hear your moans increase in pitch, and he tugs at his dick with more fervour. the headboard of your bed is knocking against the wall and heeseungs desk chair is squeaking as he rocks his hips back and forth.

if he closes his eyes and hones in on the sounds your making, he can imagine that he’s the one fucking you into your mattress. he imagines pinning your hips down as he snaps his hips against yours, causing your nails to scratch and claw at his shoulders and back.

he’d suck on your tits and play with your clit all while you’re screaming his name underneath him, begging for him to keep going, to give you that sweet release.

heeseung’s able to pull himself out of his fantasy just in time to hear you finish with a high pitched sob before he finishes just after you. he audibly groans as he soils his sweatpants, his release coating his dick and thighs and seeping through the grey material.

soon all sounds of movement coming from your room stop, and heeseung’s left alone with his thoughts. his mind is racing, and it’s hard to describe what he’s feeling in this particular moment. shame, that’s for sure. a tinge of heartbreak, yes. but also desire - for you of course. he wants to make you moan, he wants to be the reason behind your pleasure.

and as he peels his sticky pants and underwear off of himself before flopping onto his mattress, his mind is still racing with thoughts of you.

one day he’ll work up the courage to confess, to tell you about how you consume his thoughts, how he can’t get enough of you. he just hopes he works up the courage before someone else does.

#enhypen smut #heeseung smut #lee heeseung smut #enhypen imagines #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen blurbs #enhypen x reader #lee heeseung x reader #heeseung x reader

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mushroomlupin · 2 years

Text

Jealousy

Pairing: cedric diggory x f!reader

Summary: reader asks draco to help her with potions and accidentally forgets about a date she had with cedric. when she finally gets to cedric, he has to remind her who she belongs to

Requested: yes or no: if ur reading this tabitha, ily ;)

Warnings: possessive!cedric, choking (but blink and you’ll miss it), fingering, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!), and anal fingering. just kinky af honestly

Word Count: 1,229

Masterlist & Ao3

You pressed your palm against your forehead with a sigh. You were never going to understand this goddamn class.

"You alright?"

You looked up to see the blond cocking an eyebrow at you. The way he stood by your seated frame made you feel so small. Blushing, you shook your head.

“I’m trying to study for the Potions exam, but it’s hard to study when I don’t even understand what’s on here,” you complained, gesturing to the textbook in front of you.

Draco pulled the chair out next to you and sat himself down. “Perhaps, I could help?”

You looked at him with pleading eyes. “Please.”

He laughed and moved his chair closer to yours. “Let’s get started.” He flipped a few pages and began explaining each potion, how each ingredient interacted with each other, and which materials did what.

About two hours later, the librarian signaled that the library was closing. Confused, you looked at the black leather watch that wrapped around Draco’s slender wrist. With wide eyes, you noticed the time.

You were late for your date with Cedric.

Cursing under your breath, you quickly shut the Potions textbook and stood from your chair.

“What’s wrong?” Draco frowned.

“I’m late for something,” you hastily explained, clutching the textbook to your chest. “But, thank you for helping me, Draco. I mean it.”

His lips twitched upwards. “Anytime.”

You practically ran out of the library and down to the Hufflepuff Common Room, where Cedric was sat on a sofa.

His silence told you everything you needed to know; he was pissed.

“Ced?”

You walked towards him slowly, the fireplace casting a warm glow against his bronzey hair, making his locks look golden.

His words were blunt. “Where were you?”

You swallowed. “I was studying.”

He turned his head slightly, his side profile looking as though he were sculpted by a god. He was immaculate.

“With who?”

You could hear your heartbeat thrumming in your chest.

“Draco Malfoy.”

You watched his jaw clench.

“In my dorm,” he ordered. “Now.”

You quickly walked to his dorm room, listening to his quiet steps behind you. The jealousy and anger in his voice should have angered you, but instead, it made you excited. Your heartbeat quickened and you felt your pussy aching, dampening the fabric of your underwear.

Once you opened the door, you felt a hand wrap around your throat and your back pushed against the wall. Cedric kicked the door closed before attacking your lips. The kiss was sloppy, a mess of tongues and teeth as he ravished your mouth. His hand left your throat and moved to your thigh, slipping up your skirt whilst his lips went to your neck. He nipped at the skin, sucking it between his teeth before licking the bruise and moving across your neck.

“Just wait ‘til he sees you in class tomorrow,” he chuckled, his warm breath fanning against your skin. “Covered in my marks.”

Before you could say anything, his index finger pressed against your clothed core, forcing a moan out of your mouth. As his lips moved down your neck, his fingers began carefully rubbing your clit through your panties.

You wanted more, needed more.

“Please, Ced,” you begged.

He removed his lips from your skin. “You want more?”

You nodded vigorously.

“Tell me that this pussy is mine,” he demanded, his fingers pressing against you for emphasis. “Tell me that I’m the only one who can wreck you like this.”

You gripped his shirt. “My pussy is all yours, Ced. You’re the only one who can wreck me like this; the only one who can fuck me.”

“Damn right.”

He got to his knees, forcing your skirt and panties down your legs and off of your ankles. He grabbed a calf and put it over his shoulder before attaching his lips to you.

You screamed, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bud and running through your folds. He moaned, the vibrations going right to your pussy as he ate you out. Your fingers went to his hair, gripping at the bronze locks. He began sucking your clit between his lips, his index finger circling your entrance.

“Cedric, please,” you begged.

His finger plunged into you, curling inside of you whilst he sucked and flicked his tongue against the sensitive bud. Your thighs began clenching around his head. You were close and he could tell.

Another finger joined his index, curling inside of you, reaching that spot. Your breath hitched, your climax about to wash over you and…

He pulled away from you.

About to scold him, he stood up and grabbed your hips, spinning you around.

“On the bed. Bend over.”

Aching for an orgasm, you did as he said, planting your elbows and knees onto his bed and pushing your bum into the air. You wiggled your ass as a way to tell him you were ready, and a palm landed against the skin of your asscheek. Hard. You yelped, the stinging sensation telling you that he’d left a handprint. You heard him spit, along with a squelching noise.

You felt the bed dip behind you and suddenly, he pushed inside of you. He sheathed his entire length inside of you, feeling your pussy stretch around him to accommodate his size. Your mouth gaped open, his tip already brushing against your g-spot. You could feel every vein and ridge on his cock, your pussy already fluttering around him. His hands moved to your hips, gripping the skin before he began pounding into you. The sound of skin against skin filled the room as he relentlessly thrusted.

“Mine, mine, mine,” he chanted, his balls hitting your clit with every thrust.

He pressed the pad of his finger against your asshole, making you clench around him.

“My girl likes that, hm?” He asked innocently, his thumb circling the hole.

“Yes!” you pleaded.

Slowly, his thumb entered you. This new feeling combined with his rigorous thrusts made your pussy grip his cock tightly. You felt full of Cedric, and it was pure bliss.

“Gonna cum,” you whimpered, legs spasming.

“Cum for me, love.”

You saw stars. Complete euphoria washed over you as you came, body spasming and your climax being ridden out as he continued to thrust into you. Once you came down, you felt both his thumb and his dick exit your holes and his thick ropes of cum spurt onto your ass. You leaned against your elbows for support, feeling as though your body would collapse.

You felt him leave the bed, his footsteps sounding as he walked somewhere.

He came back shortly with a warm washcloth. He cleaned both you and the mess he’d made, before tossing the cloth into his dirty laundry and climbing back onto the bed.

He motioned for you to rest your head on his chest as he lay down, allowing you to lay with him. You could hear his steady heartbeat and it made you smile. This beautiful person who loved you so, so much was so alive. Sometimes, it stunned you.

His fingers began to run against the length of your back. “What are you thinking about?”

You didn’t want to admit that you were marveling over him; his ego was already big enough for that. Instead, you joked, “I’m just thinking about how jealous my boyfriend is.”

“Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet.”

#cedric x reader #cedric diggory #cedric diggory x you #cedric diggory x reader #cedric diggory smut #cedric diggory lemon #x reader #cedric diggory x reader smut #cedric diggory x female reader #smut #cedric diggory oneshot #cedric diggory fanfiction #fanfic #lemon

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write-orflight · 3 years

Text

The Fraction of Innocence.

**Gif Not Mine**

Anon Requested: 10, 16, and 25 for the smutty prompts thing!!!

10: “were you just touching yourself?” ‘yeah, what are you donna do about it?’

16: “the only way you are gonna get off is on my thigh.”

25: “she may be all lollipops and candy bars, but I bet behind closed doors she’s hand cuffs and gags.”

Pairings: SpencerXReader

Rating: M, (This is very explicit.)

Words: 4K

Warnings: NSFW!!! 18+ (Dom!Spencer, BDSM overtones, sexual conduct, fingering, bondage, etc.)

Request: OPEN/CLOSED

Summary: Spencer thinks Y/N is an innocent, naive girl until a case reveals her extracurricular activities.

Spencer had been back from jail for 2 months when he first met her.

At first he didn’t think anything of her, other than the faint smell of vanilla and daisy as she walked past him in the bullpen and the bright smile that seemed to take up half her face. She was carrying files close to her chest like a schoolgirl late to class and the skirt of her white dress bellowed softly behind her as she made her way to Emily’s office.

“Who is that?” He had asked.

Luke looked up to where Spencer’s gaze was. “Oh, that’s Y/N, she's a tech analyst helping Penelope out right now. She’s sweet, you’ll like her.”

It doesn’t take Spencer long after that to decide he, in fact, does not like you. There was nothing wrong with you. Luke was right, you were sweet, almost sickeningly so. It was like you had no concept of reality. You lived in this world of all sunshine and good things despite the horror that crossed your screen daily. And while Penelope was the same, she at the very least knew how bad the world could be and chose to see the good in it. You didn’t, it was like you’d never had a single bad thing happen to you. And Spencer, who had been dealt the bad hand so many times in life hated that.

It also didn’t help that you were gorgeous too. You looked like an artist sculpted you himself to make the perfect woman. Real People weren’t supposed to look like that. Real people were supposed to have flaws and blisters. Real people were supposed to look tired so early in the morning not fully awake and smiling while handing everyone in the office a coffee. He didn’t understand how you could be real.

“Here you go, Spencer. Americano lots of sugar.” You said, placing the coffee on his desk.

“Thank you.” He mumbles.

“We have a case, by the way.” You giggle, going off to hand Luke his coffee before walking away to the conference room. Spencer was barely able to keep his eye roll at bay.

Luke sees that and laughs, clapping Spencer on the back. “Come on, kid. Play nice.”

“She’s giggling about a murder case.” Spencer grumbles before following him into the conference room.

“3 women have been murdered in Queens. Judging by the scars, they were all bound and strangled before finally being dumped in an alley.” Garcia says, as she goes through the slides, showing the crime scenes. “Police need our help finding the connection between these three women because right now, it looks like there is none.”

“I’d say.” Tara speaks up. “We have a waitress/student, a doctor, and a paralegal. All living in different areas of the city with virtually no reason to interact.”

Spencer looks down at his file, examining the picture when he notices something. Just as he opens his mouth to say something, you clear your throat.

“Umm, Emily?” You say from your seat right across from Spencer. Emily looks up inquisitively at you. “I think I know what connects them.”

“What’s that, Y/N?” Emily asks, raising a brow at her.

You clear your throat again. “Victim #2, Rebecca Belfront, has a Padlock collar necklace on in her second picture. That’s typically used to indicate she’s a submissive with a committed dominant partner. But she wasn’t wearing it when her body was found which makes me think that that relationship recently ended. That made me look at the marks on their arms. While there are some new ones from the murders, they all have faded marks around the wrist and body as well. Leads me to believe the bounding was er-... consensual. We should probably look into New York’s BDSM scene.” You close, smiling awkwardly.

Spencer looks at you in shock. He, of course, had come to the same conclusion you did and had been about to say that but he, at least, knew why he knew that. Why did you know that?

Emily hummed thoughtfully. “It’s worth looking into. Do you mind coming to NY with us? Your insight might be needed.”

You look kind of shocked at that but nod. “Of course, whatever I can do to help.” You say, softly.

“Great, Wheels up in 30.” She says, getting up, effectively ending the meet. Spencer watches you speed after her, files in hand to ask some more questions. Spencer’s walking back to his desk when Luke catches up with him.

“Y/N has a dark side. Who knew?” He says, smirking.

“Probably not.” Spencer muses. “She could’ve just known that. I mean, I just know stuff sometimes too.”

“Nah, I don’t think so. Her body language gave her away. She was flushing and stuttering sure, but she was confident in what she was saying. Almost as if, she was speaking from experience.” Luke laughs. “She may be all lollipops and candy bars here, but I bet behind closed doors, she’s handcuffs and gags.”

Spencer hums. “Maybe.” He says looking up to watch you walk back across the catwalk from Prentiss’ office. Luke was right though, your body language did give you completely away that you were talking from experience. Spencer couldn’t help but wonder just how much.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

When you arrive in New York, You head straight from the jet to the Police Station in Queens. You fiddle with your thumbs a bit, you are nervous.

“You ok?” Spencer says, from his spot in front of the bulletin board he was setting up. You were supposed to be helping him but you knew Spencer was particular about some things so you let him do it. In fact, there were a lot of things you’d let Spencer do. With you, to you, you weren’t picky. The man was gorgeous enough to make you nervous. With his lean muscles, long, fluffy hair, and large hands, he looked like something that walked right out of a wet dream of yours. Which sometimes, he was just that. You weren’t stupid though, you knew Spencer didn’t think of you that way. In fact, you didn’t think Spencer thought of you in any way. He seemed to ignore you anyway he could.

You look up from your laptop. “Oh yea, I’m fine. I’m just...nervous. I’ve never been in the field.”

“Chances are you won’t be, Emily will probably keep you in the Station if she can help it.” Spencer provides.

“I know, it’s just-- you know what I mean.” You say, Spencer nods before returning to the bulletin board. You stand to look at the map with him. “So, from what I was able to find there’s only 3 BDSM clubs in Queens but there’s only one in the middle of where the three women were found. Place called Cat’s Cradle.”

Spencer hums. “How complicated and unpredictable the machinery of life really is.” You look up at the man, recognizing the quote.

“There is love enough in this world for everybody, if people will just look.” You say back, shrugging.

“You read Vonnegut?” He asks.

“You said that like you’re more surprised that I can read than what I read being Vonnegut.” You say, Spencer shrugs not even denying it. God, he was such a dick sometimes. A hot dick, but a dick nonetheless.

The two of you turn when you hear a knock at the door to see the lead detective coming in to check on you guys. “Just wanted to see how things were coming along. Also see if you guys needed anything?” Though he only directed the question at you with a sly smirk on his face. Men were so obvious sometimes.

“Nope, we’re fine.” You smile although you didn’t want to. “We’ve narrowed down to a couple BDSM clubs so hopefully we’ll catch our guy soon.”

“Wait, you think these girls were…” He trails off. You nod, knowing what he was thinking. “Well, it probably serves them right.”

“Excuse me?” You say.

“Listen, I know what kind of girls go into those kinds of clubs. If they want to be sexual deviants, they can’t be surprised when shit like this happens to them.” He gestures to the board.

“Actually more women are into Dominant/Submissive as well as BDSM relationships than you would think, statistically 85%.” Spencer cuts him off. “These clubs are just commonplace for them to meet like minded people just like you would do in any other club and they should be put on trial after their deaths for trusting the wrong person. If you don’t mind, we’d like to get back to work, Detective.” He says, turning back towards the board. The man nods and leaves shortly after that.

“Thank you.” You say, softly.

“What for?” Spencer asks.

“Come on, I work with profilers and I’m not stupid. I know you guys know about me so thank you for defending me just now.”

“I wasn’t defending you.” Spencer says. “He was making inappropriate comments about victims and we don’t need that outdated way of thinking working on this case. Besides…” He says, eyes flickering down to your lips and back to your eyes. “You’re not the only one with… unconventional extracurriculars.” He turns and walks out after that leaving you watching after him.

What?

------------------------------------------------------------------

After delivering the profile, you find the Unsub, a man named Ivan Parke. The only thing left to do was find the best way to snuff him out. When the team is discussing the next best course of action. It’s then Luke comes up with the idea.

“We should send Y/N undercover.” He says. “She knows the profile and knows the most about the scene.”

Emily nods. “Is that something you’re comfortable with, Y/N.”

You look up. “Oh, um yea. I’d have to find a different outfit but you have to send someone with me.” You say, everyone looks at you confused so you sigh and explain yourself. “If you send me into a club like this, in a foreign place with no Dom, the Unsub isn’t going to be my only worry. Someone’s going to have to play my dominant.”

“I’ll do it.” Spencer speaks up. Your eyes widened, you were not expecting Spencer to agree to it, you assumed you’d be stuck with Luke. Now you’re going to have to spend the night with the man you’d been crushing on since you started working with the BAU as his submissive. Like that wasn’t a dream come true.

“Great.” Emily says, dismissing everyone and handing you an expense credit card for an outfit. You take it and leave immediately, ignoring the sly look Spencer gives you.

You ended with a short, low-cut black leather dress with tank-like sleeves that showed off your curves and left very little to the imagination. As well as a clear pair of platform heels. You pulled your hair back into a sleek ponytail and you topped the look with your own personal leather choker with a large circle knob in the center. It was one of your favorite pieces to wear though you never really got a chance to wear it unless you were going to clubs, which you didn’t do as often these days. It was an expensive piece sure, but so worth it when you got to wear it. You were doing your makeup a little darker then you usually do in the bathroom when Spencer comes in.

“Is this how you typically look on the weekends?” He asks, standing behind you in the mirror. You look up to look him in the eyes through it.

“If I have the time.” You shrug.

“It’s very different. You’re very different from how I thought you were.”

“And how did you think I was, Spencer?”

“Naive...innocent.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have assumed anything about me.” You say, turning towards the man.

“Maybe you’re right… That’s an expensive piece.” He points out pointing to your choker. “Emily’s going to have fun explaining that at the next budgetary hearing.”

“I didn’t buy it today.” You explain. “It’s mine.”

Spencer hums for a moment before lifting his hand to turn your jaw, examining the piece. You can’t help the way your breath hitches at the contact. Spencer was already so close to you and now he was touching you, it was already starting to be too much. Soon, Spencer is hooking two fingers into the circle knob of your choker and he yanks it. Involuntarily, a whimper falls from your lips, prompting a smirk from the man across from you.

“Tonight’s going to be fun.” He says before leaving you in the bathroom in a state of shock.

--------------------------------------------------------

After getting your comms set up by Luke, who tried to avert his eyes from your frame as much as possible, you and Spencer walk into the Cat’s Cradle. Typically you didn’t like the club scene, but you sometimes liked to venture out when looking for a new partner. Cat’s Cradle was definitely different than the other places you had been. Sure it still had the private rooms and the main stage where a scene was happening in front of you but it was a lot more laid back than the ones you went to in DC. Spencer was really enjoying his role too. Probably hamming it up too much because he knew there was a part of you that actually wanted him to. In the end, finding Ivan Parke was easy. He took the bait almost instantly and you were arresting him just as fast.

“Great work tonight guys.” Emily says, when you reach the hotel lobby. “Jet’s leaving at 7AM so make sure to get some rest.” She says, dismissing you.

Now begged a tricky situation because you had almost forgotten you and Spencer were rooming together. As you walked back to the room together the air was thick but both of you were silent. The tension had been building between the two of you since he yanked your choker in the station bathroom. You knew it was a matter of time. The dam had to break.

“You can shower first.” Spencer says. You nod, taking off your choker and grabbing clothes before taking solace in the bathroom. You wanted Spencer and you knew you needed to expedite this. After a much needed shower, you change into your pajama shorts and tank combo. Spencer steps into the shower almost as soon as you leave it. It’s then that you think of the perfect plan. You lay on the bed and spread your legs before slipping a hand down your shorts. You tease yourself at first, rubbing your clit through your underwear while you thought about the events of the night. How Spencer had been so authoritative. How his hand slid to the small of your back and sometimes ghosted your ass as the two of you walked around the club. How he had been so close in the bathroom. The way he yanked you closer. A small moan escaped you as you slid your hand in your underwear. Soon you hear the bathroom door open. Spencer stops short, watching you before leaning on the frame.

“Were you just touching yourself?”

“Yes.” You answer. “Are you gonna to do something about it?”

“Should I? Instead of telling me what you want you decide to act like a brat and do this.”

Spencer moves closer to the bed but doesn’t do anything, just continues to watch you so you decide to give him a show. Moaning loudly as you slide a digit inside of you. Spencer looks at you with hooded eyes. You can’t help the small laugh that leaves you.

“I think you’re going to give me what I want.” You say, smirking.

“And why’s that?” He says.

“You’re already weak.” You say.

“I’m weak, pretty girl?” He asks, incredulously. Before you know it, he’s ripping your hand out of your pants and crowding in the space between your legs forcing you to sit up and look at him. “You’re in here touching yourself to the thought of me like a horny teenager and I’m the one who’s weak? Ok.” He sits back and pulls you by your hips to sit on top of his lap, your legs straddling one of his thighs. “The only way you’re getting off is on my thigh, ok?” He tells you, starting to move your hips. You moan, nodding your head as the friction makes its way through your core. Spencer lifts your shirt off you and smirks when his eyes land on your bare breast. He leans forward to catch your left nipple in his mouth. Your back arches as you grind harder against his thigh. Your hands fly up to start unbuttoning his shirt when he stops you.

“Did I say you could touch yet, princess?” He asks.

“N-No, sir.” You stutter.

“Then keep your hands to yourself.” He says, putting your hands back to your side. He does indulge you by taking his shirt off himself. But that doesn’t help you keep your hands to yourself. You saw the lean muscle and craved to mark it up with your nails. Your hands go up to touch him again but he stops you.

“If I have to ask you again, I’m going to tie you up, Princess. Just be good, baby.”

You were already close before but now with Spencer’s hands and mouth everywhere and constant friction on your sex it was damn near pushing you off the edge.

“I’m gonna come.” You tell him, he grips your hips tighter, lifting his leg slightly so he was only rubbing against your clit. That makes you moan out loudly.

“Go ahead, Princess. Cum for me.” He says, and that was all you needed to fall right over the edge. Your legs shake and convulse as Spencer grips your hips help you ride it out. Soon you come down panting and he’s kissing into your neck. He pulls back and grips your jaw.

“Still think I’m weak, Princess?” He asks.

You knew it was unwise. In fact, you tried to stop yourself before you did it but it was too late. You reared your hand back and slapped Spencer across the cheek. Not hard enough to be seen as anything malicious but sharp enough to throw him off, like he couldn’t believe you had done it.

“Yes I do.” You say looking him in the eyes after. Something like a switch went off because there was no other way to describe the look he gave you other than feral and fully primitive. He pushes you off him.

“Get on your hands and knees, now.” He says, menacingly. You scramble and run to get into the position. Once in, Spencer forces your knees further apart. He angrily takes his belt off his pants before fashioning them into a makeshift cuff and pulling your wrist so they’re tied behind your back, leaving you face down into the mattress. He slides your shorts and underwear off in one go. You yelp loudly when the first slap comes to your behind. When the second and third slap comes, you try to squeeze your legs together to get some form of friction but Spencer forces your knees further apart. You moan out when you feel a digit slide against your folds. You try to push back on it but Spencer holds your hips in place.

“P-Please.” you stutter.

“What do you want, Princess?” He says, sliding a second digit inside you making you cry out more.

“Please, fuck me, Spencer.” You say, and you really didn’t have to ask twice because almost as soon as you ask Spencer’s hands leave you to finish unbuckling his pants. There’s a brief moment of calm, so calm that you almost think Spencer wasn’t going to give you what you want but that calm is interrupted by Spencer slamming into, no warning. You scream out but that’s only rewarded with your head being shoved more into the mattress to muffle your cries. Spencer’s hands are pulling on your cuffs so he is almost impossibly deep inside you. You moans start to get louder and louder. Suddenly, Spencer is pulling you up so you’re both sitting up, your back against his chest. One of his hands slides to grip around your neck while the other is moving to circle your clit. The hand around your neck tilts your jaw back so you’re looking up at the man behind you.

“Fuck, you feel so good. Open your mouth, Princess.” He orders, which you do instantly sticking your tongue out. Spencer leans forward and spits into your waiting mouth before locking his mouth with yours. His hand squeezes your neck tighter as you moan into his mouth as he starts fucking you faster, his dick hitting your g-spot almost every thrust. It’s not long before you’re just babbling, not even able to string a coherent sentence together.

“You gonna come for me, Princess?” He asks. You nod, moaning loudly. At this point, you knew there was no way the person in the room next to you guys didn’t hear you. You could only hope that it wasn’t one of the team. “Go ahead for me, baby. Be a good girl and come on my cock.” After that, it doesn’t take long before you’re falling over the edge, shaking all the while. Spencer fucks you through it before tightening his grip on your hips to bend you back forwards so your face is back on the mattress. He fucks you hard and fast before falling over the edge himself, moaning your name.

The two of you say nothing as he unties you. When he does, you instantly flop down on your back, breathing heavily. Spencer wordlessly gets up and goes to the bathroom. For a moment you think he’s just leaving you like this, that you were foolish to think Spencer cared anything about you but in that moment he comes back with a wet cloth and ointment. He says nothing as he wipes between your legs before tossing the towel aside. You watch him with a smirk on your face as he rubs the ointment on the red marks the red cuffs made on you.

He looks you in the eye. “What, Y/N?”

“What happened to Princess?” You say, Spencer just looks at you with a bored expression which only makes you smile more. “Now’s probably a good time for you to ask me to dinner.”

Spencer chuckles lightly at that. “You don’t want to go to dinner with me.”

“I’m almost positive I do. Why would you say that?” You ask.

Spencer looks you in the eyes at that moment. “I’m not-Y/N, I’m not like you.”

“Like me?”

“I’m not able to be cheery and smiley. I can’t float into rooms. I can’t be happy like you are, too much has happened to me. You deserve someone happy.”

“Spencer.” You say, looking him in the eyes. “You are not broken. You can be happy, it’s going to take time sure but I’m willing to be with you through that. If you want that.” You say.

Spencer nods. “Ok, Y/N.” he smiles.

“So….?”

He rolls his eyes at that. “What’re you doing next sunday?”

You smile, brightly. “Absolutely nothing.”

Perm. Taglist: @moonshinerbynight @crimeshowtrash

#spencer x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer x you #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid smut #spencer reid #bau x reader #criminal minds smut #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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notanotherreidgirl · 3 years

Note

Could you write a blurb abt sub spence finding ur panties and stealing them (and maybe putting them on 👀) and then u catch him?

Also l <3 ur work sm ur amazing

no, you're amazing!

wc: 1k

Warnings: handjob, Spencer wearing panties, sub!spence, and perv!spence

Spencer sifted through the case files yet again - scanning the pages he had committed to memory, reorganizing them based on relevance, and then tucking them back into his satchel. At this point, he had lost track of the number of times he had repeated that sequence of actions. Yet again his eyes flicked over to your belongings haphazardly packed on the opposite side of the room. He knew he shouldn’t look through your things. It was entirely and indisputably wrong. Under no circumstances should he peek inside your drawers or read the little to-do list you had scribbled onto the hotel stationary. And he most definitely shouldn’t uncap your lotion to smell the sweet scent of you or rub a minuscule amount onto his hands. But he did. He did all of those things.

Spencer wouldn’t ordinarily engage in the kind of behavior that would label him a creep but there was just something about you. From the moment you breezed into the BAU he had been waging a losing battle against his insatiable need to be near you and he wasn’t subtle about it. He recalled the surprise on Hotch’s face that first day when he accepted your offer to shake hands and the suggestive remarks that Derek made at every opportunity. But he didn’t mind. He would endure all of that and more just to reside in the periphery of your orbit. Except you were magnetic, your every move pulling him in closer and closer. And now he found himself crouching over your go-bag staring at a pair of lace panties.

It had never occurred to him that you would be wearing such provocative underwear at work but now that he knew he would never forget. He shut his eyes for a second, imagining you delivering profiles and doing paperwork and talking to him with these on. Before he could even think it through the panties were out of your bag and in his hand. If snooping was bad this was awful. It was literally criminal. He was stealing, for god’s sake. Just put it back, he thought. If you put it back right now you can pretend this never happened.

But it was too late. He shot to his feet as soon as he heard the lock click open but the evidence of his indiscretion was still tightly clutched in his hand. You had, quite literally, caught him red-handed.

You blinked once then twice, convinced that your mind was playing tricks on you. But it couldn’t be. You had purposefully declined Emily’s many attempts to get you drunk, knowing that lowering your inhibitions while sharing a room with Spencer was a recipe for trouble. However, it seemed like trouble found you anyway and now you had a decision to make.

You took him in - staring at you like a deer in headlights, a blush creeping up his neck and staining his cheeks. It took you all of two seconds to kick the door closed behind you. “What’s that you got there, doc?”

He looked down at the underwear still in his hand then back up at you, trying and failing to come up with an excuse. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean - I was just - I was looking for -”

“You were just looking for a pair of panties?” You crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow, a picture of calm in stark opposition to the stuttering mess Spencer had been reduced to. “Well, congratulations. I’d say you found exactly what you wanted. Go ahead, doc. I’m not stopping you”

“G-go ahead?” he asked, confused.

“Put them on.” The command was simple but profound. If he complied there would be no going back. No more stolen glances or unrequited pining from across the bullpen. With shaky hands he removed his pajama pants and boxers at once, looking up at you for a brief moment before pulling the panties on. You breathed in sharply at the sight before you. They were much too small and he strained against the thin material, a damp spot already forming. He shifted slightly in embarrassment, letting out a low whine at how the coarse material felt against his sensitive flesh. “You’re so pretty, Spence.”

He looked at you with wide eyes, still fighting his embarrassment but undeniably turned on by your praise. Feeling bolder he gathered the courage to speak, the faintest shadow of disappointment shrouding his words. “They don’t fit”

“Let me help you, baby.” You could barely contain yourself as you crossed the room, not quite believing that you had Spencer Reid wearing your panties before you. With every step, you took his heart rate multiplied until you were right in front of him. You toyed with the waistband while pressing feather light kisses up his neck, feeling his uneven pulse jumping at every touch. You hooked a finger through the waistband and tugged upwards, drawing a cry of pleasure from Spencer as he bucked his hips forward. “Is this what you like, doc? You like being my pretty boy?”

As you spoke you trailed your hand down to cup him through the fabric, squeezing him lightly and heightening the friction afforded by the lace material. He gasped. “Yes! Yes, I like it. I like it so much. God, I think I’m gonna -”

You continued to palm him, applying even more pressure and sucking marks into the exposed skin of his chest as he rode out his release. His legs buckled as waves of pleasure coursed through him and you directed him onto the bed. You hovered over him as he came down and you couldn’t help but admire how beautiful he was - the sculpted planes of his face, the chain of purple marks decorating his neck and chest, the soaked panties clinging to his hips.

He chewed on his lip, nervousness returning in full force. He reddened as he tried to find the right words but you stopped him by capturing his mouth in a kiss. A slow, full kiss that tied the two of you together, finally sharing the words neither of you had the courage to say aloud. You’re mine. You’re mine. You’re mine

When the breath had run out of both your lungs, you pulled away. He looked down at the ruined underwear sheepishly. “Don’t worry, doc. I’ll buy you new ones”

#thx anon #sub!spencer #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader smut #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #unsuitable for work

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somethingpoetichere · 3 years

Text

lovebug- caliban imagine

sup. fic inspired by my favorite song in THE world. not as soft mushy as it may sound I promise caliban is a nice lil sarcastic SHIT with a big ole crush. mild sabrina bashing but its funny in context and I think it’s the way family behaves. reader is a Spellman, not a witch but DOES know about the supernatural/is part of the supernatural world. here with my once in a blue moon post lol. feedback would be appreciated!

called her for the first time yesterday

finally found the missing part of me

felt so close but you were far away

left me without anything to say

Caliban was not an idiot- he knew not to underestimate the Spellman half-witch that had gone and declared herself queen of hell. So he’d taken the liberty of learning everything he could about her, noting her habits and schedule and the people she surrounded herself with.

And then he found you.

You weren’t a witch- at least, he hadn’t found your name in his diligent searching through the Book of the Beast- but you were something. That he was sure of. There was something slightly off about your presence, tinged a little glittery, though not altogether unpleasant.

No, not unpleasant at all, he mused as he watched you make your way towards your car. Tucked into a little yellow sundress, you stood out like a ray of sunshine in the wave of doom-and-gloom that hallmarked high school. The school bell rang out behind you, and Caliban felt his knees go disgustingly weak as you smiled brilliantly at Sabrina through the crowd.

It was a stupid, stupid decision that Caliban would never have made in the right state of mind, but he reasoned that pissing off Sabrina was validation enough to get your attention. He ducked into your path on purpose, taking advantage of your momentary distraction as he gently bumped into you. oops.

You collided with a solid wall, books tumbling out of your hands as strong arms reached out to steady you. You let out a surprised yelp at the collision, peeking up curiously as the wall you’d hit laughed.

Oh, well that was a sight for sore eyes.

The golden haired stranger holding you was, well, gorgeous. Bright blue eyes peered down at you as he grinned, and you felt the whole world shutter around you. You’d definitely been watching too many soap operas with your auntie, but goddamn it if you weren't positively putty.

“Hi there, stranger.” You giggled nervously, and Caliban suddenly remembered he’d had his arms around you for far too long to be acceptable. He reluctantly retreated, feeling something claw a little uncomfortably in his chest.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” He apologized, moving to pick up your books as you bent down to retrieve them. He ran a hand through his hair in barely concealed bashfulness, unsure of why he felt so... unsettled, all of a sudden.

“It’s alright, my head was in the clouds.” You waved off his apology, accepting the books he offered you with a grateful smile. “Are you new here? I don’t think we’ve met.”

“He’s new here!” Sabrina’s shrill voice interrupted, training her icy glare on Caliban, who fought back a smirk. “This is Caliban- he’s from... Australia! Yeah, down under!”

“Oh, I can show you around tomorrow! I know how scary it can be to be new here.” You patted his arm sympathetically, ignoring Sabrina’s stream of indignant protests. “I was with student council all day. If you’re a senior, we probably have most of the same classes.”

Caliban had shit to do. Caliban had trials to plan and souls to torture. But you were looking at him- all warmth and sunshine, and Sabrina’s look of pure horror only sweetened the deal.

“I’ll see you in class tomorrow then, sunshine.”

so worth it.

now i'm speechless, over the edge

i'm just breathless

i never thought that i'd catch this love bug again

hopeless, head over heels in the moment

i never thought that i'd get hit by this love bug again

Caliban didn't understand why the mortals all bemoaned high school as hell on earth. It certainly wasn't so bad once you got past the wave of body spray and the questionable cafeteria food. In fact, darting to class with a pretty girl beside him was pretty enjoyable, all things considered.

You’d spent the day introducing him to the other students, passing him silly notes in class, and had even tugged him from the lunch room to hang out with your friends in the library. He learned that you pretty much did it all- student council, cheerleader, top of your class- all while managing to somehow know the name of everyone you passed with a smile in the halls. You were silly and sweet— smart as all hell with a wit that certainly kept the clay prince on his toes.

and he was smitten.

The groan that escaped your painted lips was delightfully sinful as you slumped in the seat beside him in english class. “I hate Romeo and Juliet. How do two people fall in love in a few days anyhow? And Mrs. Willows always makes us reenact the scenes, and it’s so corny.” The blush that colored your cheeks as he looked at you in concern was something he did his best to commit to memory- cheesiness be damned, Caliban was enjoying himself far too much.

Caliban smirked, skimming through the booklet he’d been passed as the teacher droned. The prince of hell had a certain flare for the dramatics, and Sabrina’s glare burning into the back of his head only fueled his antics. He had one scene in mind, and it was the scene that was certain to kill four birds with one stone- totally make you fall in love with him, he would somehow manage to kiss you (that part was a work in progress), piss off Sabrina, and also- piss off Sabrina.

And kiss you. So maybe five parts. Damn it, Caliban was going to have to make a list.

“Partners?” He whispered softly, gently tugging at your hand as the teacher sat back down. Caliban’s eyes were alight with a tinge of mischief that you either failed to notice or were simply amused by- and your answering nod was more than a little bashful. “We can do my favorite scene.”

“If you say the first kiss scene, I’m punching the daylights out of you.” You warned, playfully nudging his knee with your own. “It will be unkind and I will not feel bad.”

“My lady wounds me.” He dramatically rested his hand above his heart. “And we absolutely have to do this scene-” He raised his hand to silence your half-hearted protests- “because Billy told the guys in calculus that he was specifically going to be pissed if we did this scene.”

Okay, so maybe he’d stretched the truth a little bit. But Caliban knew that the mention of your seedy ex-boyfriend (who you’d enlightened him about during lunch) would absolutely get you to agree to the scene. And it wasn't like he’d lied— Billy Marlin’s glare was nearly as icy as Sabrina’s. And, it wasn't like the way Billy looked at you- with something akin to possession in his eyes- totally made Caliban want to fast track the kid to damnation right then and there. Nope.

“We can meet up later today to practice? I have cheerleading practice after school, but I’m free after that!” You grinned at him, and he felt the tension ease out of his shoulders as you rested your hand on his arm. The gesture was so effortless- but to Caliban, who’d never really experienced connection like this- you reduced him to all but clay again.

“I can drive you home after practice?” Caliban offered, enjoying the yelp that Sabrina let out from the back of the classroom. He shouldered your bag as the bell sounded, noting the way your eyes softened even further at the gesture. “We don't really have cheerleaders down under, you know.”

“You’re welcome to stay and watch.” You shrugged, ignoring the way your heart thudded erratically as he walked you to the locker room. “It won’t be too long today, and Sabrina has a date with Nick after, anyways.”

it was really just too easy.

i can't get your smile out of my mind

i think about your eyes all the time

you're beautiful but you don't even try

(you don't even, don't even try)

modesty is just so hard to find

Caliban wasn’t sure if he regretted his earlier offer. Sure, the sight of you tucked into the tight cheerleading uniform (did they make them that short on purpose?) was pretty much the pinnacle of male fantasy, and the smiles and winks you’d thrown his way whenever he caught your eye during your routines were something else altogether.

But getting the sight out of his brain as you rambled aimlessly in the car about today’s chapters of Dante’s Inferno, while he simultaneously tried to focus on the road and definitely not the way your skirt hitched on the leather seat...

Yeah, Caliban was pretty sure he was in love.

You weren’t too far off, in all honesty. Caliban’s large hands had a firm grip on the steering wheel, and you took the time to admire further up his toned arms as he drove. His hair fell in loose, windswept waves, and his side profile looked like it was sculpted by the freaking gods. Every so often he would glance your way, his perfect lips parting to reveal his perfect teeth and perfect smile and gods-

Yeah, you had the lovebug bad.

“So how did you meet Sabrina?” You questioned innocently enough, and Caliban had to restrain the urge to spill all of the hell-related gossip to you. How Sabrina had managed to keep all of her throne-seeking from you was beyond him, but it certainly added a thrill to his pursuit of you.

“I had some administrative issues the other day and ran into her. She doesn’t like me too much, I’ve gathered.” Caliban was careful not to lie- his entanglement with you had the added perk of pissing off your dearest cousin, but it was genuine on Caliban’s end. He found he didn’t really want to lie about things.

“Sabrina is... touchy.” You offered carefully, shifting in your seat as you pointed out directions to your home. “I don’t really understand why she doesn't like you, to be honest. I was actually going to have a word with her about being nice- you’ve been so sweet, and I was the new kid too a few years back. It's hard to find your place in the established dynamic of a small town.”

Caliban doubted you’d had too much of an issue, with the way the halls seemed to light up around you, but the accompanying smile you gave him was bright enough to soothe his imagined woes. “It’s alright, I reckon she’ll get used to having me around.”

“Used to you?” You mused with a giggle, leaning on the console in a gesture that brought your face much, much closer to his own. He was overwhelmed with your floral scent- something soft and summery and altogether you.

“I plan on being around you a lot, sunshine. If you don’t mind.” He grinned, turning to face you momentarily at the stop sign. Your eyes were wide with hardly concealed surprise at his words, and he watched the realization of the close proximity of his face flicker through them.

It happened so fast that Caliban was almost certain he imagined it- but your eyes had definitely glanced at his lips. The blush that tinged your cheeks as you pulled back confirmed it, and in a moment of calculated risk, Caliban moved to rest his hand on your exposed thigh.

“No, I wouldn’t mind at all.”

If Caliban squinted, he could almost picture that he was a normal teenage boy, driving a beautiful, normal girl home from school. The sinking sun was peeking through the windows, bathing you in an ethereal glow, and - at least for right now- everything was perfect.

you were perfect.

now i'm speechless, over the edge

i'm just breathless

i never thought that i'd catch this love bug again

hopeless, head over heels in the moment

i never thought that i'd get hit by this love bug again

Caliban draped himself across your bed, a languid smirk on his lips as you kicked haphazardly placed piles of clothes into your closet.

“I promise I’m not usually this messy,” you apologized with a sheepish smile, shoving a mass of shoes under your bed, “okay, that's a lie. I’m always this messy, I just didn’t expect company.”

Caliban hardly minded. It was adorable how embarrassed you were, and he took the time to take in your bedroom (drawn from his reverie only by the occasional delighted shout when you found a shirt you’d thought had been sacrificed to the laundry gods, or worse, Sabrina’s room).

The first thing Caliban noticed was the books. While your clothes lay in scattered piles, all of your books were meticulously organized and lovingly tucked into shelves that took up an entire wall of the room. Sabrina may have answered that Caliban’s only hobby was torturing babies (or her, which was the same thing, really— and also, what the hell? Caliban may have enjoyed the occasional soul flaying, but only when it was well deserved!)— but Caliban loved to read.

What was one lifetime in one world, when he could learn of a thousand others in just as many universes? Immortality could grow dull, and eternity had to be spent somehow. Caliban tried not to smile as you precariously placed the book that had found its way onto your nightstand back into its place, and supposed that it might be far more enjoyable with someone else.

You seemed satisfied with your damage control, and slumped onto the bed dramatically with a groan. It was then that Caliban’s hand found a stray victim of your clothing massacre.

“Nice.” He grinned, and you peeked up from your playbook to find him dangling a pink lace bra.

Shit.

“Give me that!” You lunged, but Caliban was too fast. He quickly moved them from your reach, laughing wildly as you wrestled him desperately for the bra.

“You are the worst.” A groan escaped you, and you huffed in fake-defeat as Caliban smirked victoriously at your retreat. You leaped at the chance, tackling Caliban with all your might. While momentarily surprised, he reacted quickly and shifted so that he was now pinning you to the bed, his hair dangling wildly in your face as you both laughed.

Caliban’s face was so close that you could see the flecks of green in his eyes. For a moment, his eyes seemed to flicker to your lips, but in the seconds it took for you to find your voice again, you’d lost your nerve.

“We should get back to the scene.”

The moment was broken, and Caliban retreated with a bashful look on his face. He ran a hand through his hair and moved to sit across from you, his cheeks tinted a little red as he politely handed you back your intimates and pretended to shield his eyes when you tossed it somewhere. You’d never been so freaking embarrassed in your life, but Caliban was smiling so softly at you, like you were—

“If I profane with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine, the gentle sin is this: my lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.” He motioned around with his hands dramatically, tone playful and light.

You were so dead. Caliban was freaking made for this romantic swooning nonsense that you’d tried to protest nearly the whole ride home, Billy Marlin be damned.

Giggling nervously in what you hoped seemed scene-appropriate, you tried your best to forget being a horny teenager to instead play a horny teenager. “Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, which mannerly devotion shows in this, for saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss.”

Caliban’s voice lowered, a smile still tugging at his lips as he took your hands in his own. “Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?”

“Ay, pilgrim.” Your own voice softened in turn as Caliban began to trace mindless patterns on the backs of your hands with his thumbs, “lips that they must use in prayer.”

“O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do. They pray; grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.” Caliban’s eyes were soft, and you imagined that Shakespeare had pictured the man in front of you when putting the words to paper. The words fell so naturally from his lips and he seemed engrossed in the scene— he was, for lack of a better word, enchanting.

“Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake.” Your voice was hardly more than a breathless whisper, the proximity of your faces and the intimacy (however imagined) stealing the air from your lungs.

Caliban paused, his eyes meeting yours intently as if searching for something. Whatever it was, he seemed to find it as he took your face in both of his hands.

“Then move not, while my prayer’s effect I take.”

It was all too much. You could hardly be blamed for kissing him as fiercely as you did.

It was like fireworks, like every cheesy romance novel and play (cough, Romeo and Juliet) claimed it would be. You’d had plenty of kisses before, but never one that melted your brain like this. You forgot all about the scene, about how not real this was supposed to be as your hands tangled in his windswept hair and he pulled you onto his lap.

It was Caliban who first pulled away, only just so that your noses were touching. He was breathing heavily, eyes blown wide— and you felt your whole face turn red as reality consumed you again. “I am so sorry, I’ll just—”

“Where do you think you’re going, Juliet?” Caliban’s hands firmly gripped your hips, preventing you from moving away. His fingers thumbed the band of your skirt, and his next words were a whisper against your lips.

“Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purged.”

kissed her for the first time yesterday

everything i wished that it would be

suddenly i forgot how to speak

hopeless, breathless, baby can't you see?

Caliban was in love. He’d spent the next three weeks with you reciting Romeo and Juliet, sharing shakes at Dr. Cerberus, and tugging you into empty classroom and closets at every opportunity to kiss you senseless. Every moment not spent with you was at least somewhat occupied by the thought of you, and Caliban found he wasn’t the least bit upset about it.

And Sabrina was pissed.

If she’d hated him before, she positively loathed him now. It was the latest point of contention between yourself and your darling cousin, who’d you taken to threatening with various kitchen utensils and promises to tell the aunties she’d been sneaking out to make her behave. And Caliban, for his part, was perfectly polite— even though he still had every intention of taking the throne from the inexperienced witch who promised to destroy the balance of heaven and hell.

Which presented Caliban’s own latest dilemma. He was going to have to tell you eventually— and in a way that didn't make you totally hate him. He had a plan. Okay, maybe a skeletal plan. Or no plan. Yeah, Caliban was going to wing it.

After today. He just had to make it through your reenactment of Romeo and Juliet with no demonic catastrophes or maiming Blly, and then he would tell you everything.

But even that was too much to ask.

Sabrina burst through the english classroom doors, yelling in barely concealed panic that there was a BIG problem and the principal needed Caliban now.

Caliban moved to leave with an apologetic smile in your direction, which you were absolutely not having. Despite your current frustration with Sabrina, she looked downright terrified, and you were both concerned for your cousin and overwhelmed with a gut feeling that something was up.

After a few moments, you excused yourself to use the restroom.

You hauled ass to the gym, where the screaming sounded to be coming from. When you entered, you were met with the strangest sight.

The gym was filled with winged... rats? And at the center of the chaos was Sabrina and Caliban, back to back and armed with what appeared to be lacrosse sticks. Caliban’s shirt was tattered from the rats, and you took a fraction of a second to banish the completely innappropriate and untimely thoughts from your head.

“And no one thought to call me?” You shouted angrily through the swarm, snagging a baseball bat from the rack and smacking it around with reckless abandon. Caliban hooted, laughing loudly as you took your place beside them. Rats tore at your clothes, but you were more frustrated that Sabrina had called your boyfriend (or whatever he was) over you.

“Why did you get Caliban! I was right there! Is there something wrong with you? Were you dropped on the head as a child? He’s not even from here Sabrina, he has no idea what-”

“For hell’s sake, he’s not the new kid! He’s not even from Australia! He’s a stupid clay prince from hell who is trying to take my throne and raze humanity, and his stupid plague king sent these after me, and now he’s dating you!” Sabrina spat out the word dating as if it was even more disgusting than the winged vermin tearing at your clothes.

“Will someone please explain what the hell is going on here?”

You were no less frustrated when Sabrina revealed her trek to hell and the all ensuing madness she’d partaken in, but you remained calm enough to not turn the bat on her clearly empty skull.

“And you’re the clay prince of hell... challenging her throne?” You questioned with a sharp glance at Caliban, who nodded reluctantly as he swatted a rat hurtling towards you.

“Do you even have a driver’s license!” You screamed, waving your baseball bat around wildly.

“I’m a demon prince of hell made out of clay, and you’re worried about if I can legally drive?” Caliban shouted back in astonishment through the wave of shrieking rats. The lacrosse stick he’d snagged was surprisingly effective.

“I was getting to that part, thank you for reminding me!” You hissed, debating whether to smash his face in with the bat. “How about we start with how you completely lied to me, and how our whole relationship or whatever it is a lie! Were you ever going to tell me? Or was this all part of some throne grab?”

“It wasn’t a lie!” Caliban demanded hotly. “You were not a lie!”

“Really!” You whirled on him, eyes alight with anger. “Because I sure feel like one!”

The rats numbers were dwindling rapidly, and you smacked the last one heading towards you directly at Caliban’s face. It collided with a satisfying shriek, and you threw your bat down as you stormed out of the gym.

Sabrina and Caliban rushed after you, but you’d disappeared in the hall.

now i'm, yeah, oh!

now i'm speechless, over the edge

i'm just breathless

i never thought that i'd catch this love bug again

now i'm hopeless, head over heels in the moment

i never thought that i'd get hit by this love bug again, (oh)

love bug again

You’d remained collected until you’d transported into the middle of the living room, collapsing into auntie Hilda’s arms in a puddle of tears as you told her everything. She’d muttered a stream of ancient curses about Sabrina, but beyond that merely smoothed your hair and told you that all boys were awful— especially demonic princes of hell.

“I hate him.” You glared half-heartedly into your cup of steaming peppermint tea. You couldn’t believe you’d been so stupid. Falling blindly in love with a stranger who had only sought you out for some elaborate game with Sabrina. Screw Caliban and his perfect hair, his perfect smile, his perfect— “I want to bash his face in.”

“No you don't, love.” Hilda smiled knowingly. “You’re angry, yes— and hurt. But you care for the boy. I’ve never seen you so happy as you’ve been these last few days. I think you ought to cool down and hear what he has to say.”

“I never want to talk to him again.” You groaned, burying your face in a pillow. “I’d rather die.”

And because the universe was truly conspiring against you, a knock sounded at the door.

“Well, best get over that quick.” Hilda warned, ignoring your stream of indignant protests as she hustled to the door.

“Caliban! Yes, do come in love. Oh, yes, we will be having a little chat later, but for now I think it’s my niece you must be speaking to.” Hilda’s cheerful voice trailed in from the foyer, and you jumped up to make a break for it.

You were halted by a familiar pair of strong arms tugging you back by the waist.

“Get off of me!” You shouted, pushing Caliban away harshly and ignoring the warmth that lingered where he’d touched you. “I want my baseball bat. Somebody get me my baseball bat! I’m going to bash your stupid pretty face in you asshole—”

“Five minutes.” Caliban pleaded desperately, “just give me a five minutes to explain, and then I’ll give you back the baseball bat to bash my face in, okay?”

You considered his offer for a moment, swallowing the sob crawling its way up your throat as you nodded reluctantly. If it made him leave faster, you’d do anything.

His shoulder sagged in barely concealed relief. “Okay. I am Caliban, Prince of Hell. I am not from Australia, clearly, and am not a transfer student. I am trying to take your cousin’s throne. She does not understand the realm of the damned— she thinks it needs to be generous, rather than a fair judgment of life. I am not her father, and I do not believe in reckless or cruel damnation. I do not wish any harm on Sabrina, and I’ve managed to keep the worst of the plague kings from her. Even if you were to reject me now, I would continue to try to protect her— you have my word.” Caliban paused as you released a breath you did not know you were holding. Your eyes finally dared to meet his, and you nodded for him to continue.

“I agreed to attend Greendale because yes, it did piss off Sabrina, but you were there.” He raised his hand to halt your protest. “You intrigued me, and I wanted to know you better. I will be fully honest that it had the added bonus of irritating your cousin, who I so delight in irritating, but my primary focus was you. You... enchanted me. I had never found myself so invested in anything before as I was in spending mundane days at high school— of all things— with you. Truthfully, it confused even me at first. And while the past you knew is false, I am real— and my feelings for you are true.”

“That is such bullshit, and you know it!” You exploded furiously, smacking his chest with untamed rage. “You knew exactly what you were doing. Who agrees to go to high school because they like a girl? Are you unhinged? Who doesn't just ask someone out if they were so interested, huh? No, you came here with your stupidly perfect little ‘oh I’m Caliban, and I’m so dreamy’ act, knowing full well that it would make me completely abandon all rationality. Well guess what, I did! I fell stupid head over heels for you, and it was all one big lie.”

Your voice broke on the last few words, anger shifting to broken sadness as you continued to pound relentlessly on his chest. “I was a lie.”

He caught your hands, holding them against his chest as he pressed you against the wall. “You weren't a lie, Spellman.”

His words were breathless whisper, his beautiful eyes pained and desperate as he gripped your hands harder. “I fell for you the moment I saw you. I enrolled in high school because you smiled at me. I learned every line of Romeo and Juliet to recite them to you. When we first met, you wondered how Romeo and Juliet could possibly fall in love after a mere few days, but I understand it now. I have never been driven so completely insane by anything or anyone like this before. The power you have over me is unmatched. I am completely and wholly yours. If you were to ask me right now to leave, to never bother you again, I would leave my heart with you and spend my eternity in endless sorrow. I would think forever of the way you smiled at me, the way you kissed me, how soft your hair felt in my hands, and how my heart raced every time you laughed. I would never forgive myself for the pain I had caused you, and you would haunt me every day, every waking moment, every dream.”

Caliban moved your hands to his lips, nearly kissing them as he pleaded to you with tears in his beautiful eyes. You were motionless, turned to stone by his heavy gaze.

“So please, don’t become my specter. If I am a stranger to you now, let me make you fall for me all over again. I would do it a thousand times, if you'd let me. I could think of no sweeter way to spend my eternity.”

When you’d thought that Shakespeare had been imagining Caliban when he wrote, you’d been wrong. There was no poetry, no book, no lyric that could possibly compare to the way he spoke to you— the way his eyes so desperately tried to convey his anguish.

You removed your hands from his, and his whole face seemed to shatter.

“You’re not a stranger,” you muttered softly, moving to take his face your hands. His face remained guarded, but he leaned instinctively into your touch. “You’re Caliban.”

When you kissed him, it was like falling in love all over again.

And you supposed you did.

“But we are having a long, long talk about everything.” You warned as you pulled back, poking his chest sharply as he nodded profusely. “And if you ever, ever lie to me again, I’ll set something worse than flying rats on you. I’ll let Sabrina have you.”

Caliban laughed wildly, picking you up and spinning you around as he kissed you over and over again in sheer relief and joy. “I love you, Spellman. Anything you want, it’s yours.”

“I just want you, clay boy.”

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sierraraeck · 3 years

Text

How to Apologize

Spencer x Luke x Fem!Reader

Masterlist

Summary: You can’t believe that for the four months since you’ve joined the team, and have been relentlessly flirting with the two hot agents, no one thought to tell you that they were together. Luke and Spencer decide they should apologize to you with an impromptu, late-night visit.

Category: Smut. Essentially pwp. A little fluff and a dash of angst if you squint.

Warnings: Cussing. Alcohol mentioned. Fingering (vaginal and anal), oral (male and female receiving), protected penetration, double penetration. Use of condoms and lube.

Word Count: 5.2k

A/N: Welcome back to episode three of me being in love with Ralvez. I’ve just really been in a mood for them lately, so I hope you enjoy what my mind comes up with when I just keep thinking about them ;)

You’ve got to be shitting me.

You couldn’t believe it. Luke and Spencer were together, and had been for over a year now. You’d only been on the team for about four months, all of which you spent unabashedly flirting with both of them.

Everyone knew it, too. It wasn’t like you were particularly quiet about expressing how much you enjoyed their company, and how easy they were on the eyes. It was fun for you, and you thought it was fun for them. They both seemed kind of into it, and the team found it a little funny.

Now you’re understanding why they found it funny. Because the whole time, you’d been embarrassing yourself by flirting with taken men. And they weren’t just taken. They were dating each other.

“You’re joking,” you said, with absolutely no humor. You were sitting on a barstool looking around at the shit-eating grins around you. They all shook their heads.

Your mouth was agape, “You’re fucking joking. You all saw this happening and not one of you had the decency to tell me!? This is bullshit!”

This just caused more laughter to erupt around you. Luckily, the bar you were at was pretty noisy, so not too much attention was drawn to your group.

“Honestly?” Emily started, “We just wanted to see, you know, as a profiler, how long it’d take you to figure it out.”

“And we,” Luke hopped in, gesturing to him and Spencer, “Wanted to see how well we could control our microexpressions.”

“This is some shit,” you mumbled to yourself, still wrapping your head around what was being said. You were trying to be light-hearted about it, and you had to admit it was a pretty good one they pulled on you, but you still felt a little insulted. And embarrassed. Oh god, you felt really embarrassed. Especially now that you knew they were ‘testing your skills’ or something, and you weren’t good enough to pick up on their relationship. You offered a disbelieving smile and shook your head. “You know what? I’m disinviting myself from this, and I’m going to go home, because otherwise… Actually let’s not talk about what would be happening otherwise.” The whole team gave you some strange looks at that comment, and you just took a deep breath and said, “Okay, I’m just gonna go.”

“Hey, Y/N, wait!” Tara called after you. You turned to face her. “We meant no harm by it!”

You laughed and acknowledged, “Oh, I know! I just think that maybe I should do a little mental detox now that I know I need to cool it.” You winked, trying to make everything calm and casual so that there would be no weird feelings when you returned to work on Monday.

But you definitely had weird feelings. About the deliberate joke that led you down a very deep rabbit hole, about the fact that you couldn’t just ‘detox’ the two men from your mind, and about how long they let the joke mess with your feelings.

It didn’t matter, though, because Spencer and Luke were together, and the last thing you wanted to do was make things complicated.

You were seated on your couch with a glass of wine watching reruns of your favorite show when you heard a knock at the door. You were in your pajamas, a navy tank top with matching shorts, and had been home for nearly two hours. It was a little past midnight, and you were actually about to go to bed. You couldn’t figure out who was at your door, and why the hell they’d be there past midnight, but one look through the peephole gave you clarity.

Two tall, handsome, nervous figures stood, waiting for you to answer. You sighed, unlocking the bolt and pulling the door open. You had the slightest idea to grab a jacket or something to throw on over your pajamas, but you were no longer trying to impress the agents before you.

“Hey guys,” you croaked, voice sounding tired.

Spencer and Luke were still acting a bit nervous, but Luke gave you a small smile. “Hey Y/N. May we come in?”

You gave them a once over, realizing they were both in large, matching, burgundy robes. You were confused, and gave them a strange look, but stepped to the side regardless. They quickly scampered into your apartment.

Once inside, Luke shut and locked the door, standing in front of it. You waited for them to say something.

Instead, they looked at each other, took a deep breath, then undid their robes, dropping them to the floor. They were completely and utterly naked.

“Oh, fuck,” you whispered, unable to peel your eyes away from the two of them.

They both smirked slightly at your reaction, and Spencer brought your attention back to his eyes when he said, “We figured we needed to apologize.”

All you could manage was a weak ‘uh-huh.’

“As long as you were serious about some of the things you said-” Luke started.

“And were actually flirting with us because you liked us-” Spencer continued.

“We wanted to show you that we were serious and flirting with you, too,” Luke concluded.

Again, all you got out was an ‘uh-huh.’ They looked at you expectantly, so you picked your jaw up off the floor and forced your brain to say something more helpful. “Yes, I was dead serious, yes, I was actually flirting with you, and, to answer your next question, yes.”

“The last yes was for what?” Luke half-teased.

“Whatever the fuck is happening right now,” you gestured to their bare forms, “yes.” They both laughed slightly, and just as Spencer was about to take a step toward you, you held up your hand. “Hold on, wait. I know you said you were serious, but is this something the two of you actually want, or is this just out of pity?” you asked skeptically.

Luke’s eyes went wide, “We actually want this.”

At the same time, Spencer said, “This is not out of pity.”

They seemed sincere, and that was good enough for you.

This time when Spencer stepped toward you, you didn’t stop him. His lips latched on to yours, and you immediately sank into his warmth. His lips were soft and his tongue was energetic, searching every part of your mouth it could reach. Luckily for you, he was already stark naked, giving you free reign to explore his bare chest.

As Spencer was exploring your mouth, Luke came up behind you and started lifting your shirt off your frame. His hands felt nice, just barely brushing up against your cold sides. You and Spencer had to part, but only for a moment, as Luke pulled your shirt over your head and tossed it to the side.

You already felt like you couldn’t breathe, but when Luke seductively trailed his fingers up your sides and around between you and Spencer to start toying with your nipples, you thought you might never breathe again. Spencer started kissing down the column of your throat, sucking slightly at each point. Without Spencer’s mouth to absorb the sound, they could both hear the small gasps and whimpers you made at each touch.

Luke was firmly at your back, his hot chest pressed up against your shoulder blades, or maybe the fire radiating from them was all in your head, you couldn’t quite tell. Spencer wrapped his arms around your back, and pulled you all the way to him, leaving barely any room for Luke’s fingers to continue their ministrations. You made a snarky remark in your head about how you weren’t surprised about Spencer’s possessiveness, until he reached behind you. Luke groaned in your ear shortly after Spencer squeezed your ass and continued his trail to the growing bulge behind you. Spencer was quite good at multitasking. Kissing, sucking, stroking… That didn’t surprise you, however. You knew how fast his mind could work, and how it always seemed to be thinking about multiple things at once.

It didn’t really surprise you either that Luke was less good at multitasking. Still amazing, but not like Spencer. With that in mind, you decided to turn the attention of the group a little bit. You turned in Luke’s now still arms, back against Spencer’s chest. You gave Spencer enough room to continue massaging Luke, but you did lean forward enough to plant your lips on his.

Luke’s kiss was different from Spencer’s. His lips were plump and captivating, and his tongue was a bit more languid than Spencer’s, granted that could’ve been because most of his attention was being drawn elsewhere.

“Wait,” Luke panted, pulling away from you. You and Spencer both immediately stopped what you were doing and looked up at him. “Bedroom?”

You tilted your head in the direction of the door down hall, and the three of you moved like it was a mad dash to get there first.

Once inside, Luke’s lips reattached themselves to yours, and he walked you backwards toward the bed, hands on your waist. They traveled lower, over your still-clothed ass, and spread flat on the back of your thighs. Somehow, you knew what he wanted, lacing your fingers together behind his neck and jumping into his sculpted arms. He swiftly strode the rest of the way to the mattress and plopped you down, following quickly with his own body. Your legs were partially wrapped around his middle and his hands were back on your waist again, this time toying with the waistband of your pajama shorts. You had a fleeting thought about how you wished you were wearing any of the cute lingerie pieces in your drawer, but before ten minutes ago, you never thought the situation you were currently in would even be possible, let alone happen. It wouldn’t matter much longer anyways, as Luke’s fingers were pulling away the remaining garments.

Now, completely bare in front of him, Luke pulled back to admire you. Spencer was at his side, also eyeing you, but wasn’t quite as patient. He crawled up the bed, looking you straight in the eye. You nodded to him, your silent consent for him to lower his head, placing delicate kisses all around your neck and chest. He was back to doing what he had only moments ago, only this time he travelled farther down, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth. You took a shuddering breath, weaving your fingers into his shaggy curls.

Luke stood, admiring the sight. His boyfriend was hunched over their mutual crush, drawing the most arousing whines from your mouth. It went straight to his cock. But, while this was definitely a mutual pleasure situation, it was also a way to make it up to you. He wanted to make sure you got all the attention first before going any further.

With that in mind, Luke joined the two of you, his focus a little farther south than Spencer’s. You’d been so caught up in the feeling of Spencer’s tongue and teeth nipping at your peaks that the feeling of Luke’s fingers circling your clit drew a dramatic gasp from your lungs. You tugged a little harder on Spencer’s locks, causing him to moan into your skin. You made a side note to yourself about hair pulling for Spencer for future reference. You were optimistic that you’d need it.

Luke started gradually picking up the pace on your clit as Spencer switched his attention to the neglected breast. You knew that you were already pooling, and despite not being able to see anything past Spencer’s mess of hair, you could tell that Luke was pleased. His index finger circled around your entrance, one, two, three times before pushing in. Your back arched off the sheets, pushing your nipples further into Spencer’s mouth and palm. Your jaw hung open in a silent moan.

Spencer noticed, and teased, “Come on, you’re usually not this quiet when it comes to expressing how much you enjoy our company.”

Luke leaned up, finger still pushing in and out of you, to see your face. He barely caught what Spencer was referencing, as you were trying to snap your jaw shut, and smirked down at you. He turned his head to the side and started kissing up the side of Spencer’s neck, who habitually craned it to the side, providing more access. Luke added a second digit, scissoring them inside you. Spencer hummed happily at the little hickies Luke was scattering all over his neck, and you felt the heat in your belly start to burn. God, it was so fucking hot, in every sense of the word.

Luke curled both of his fingers upwards, hitting that perfect spot, as he latched his lips to Spencer’s. With the combination of the sight and both men’s ministrations, you fell over the edge.

You squeezed your eyes shut, only a little disappointed that you couldn’t continue looking at them, as your lungs expelled any air you had in your chest.

When the waves of pleasure had mostly subsided, you managed to lift your eyelids, peering up at the sight above you. Luke and Spencer were still attached at the mouth, but they pulled away, Spencer laughing a little while Luke just grinned.

“Remind me to always kiss you like that when we have guests,” Luke said to Spencer, then winked at you. You gave a weak shrug, still too blissed out to form coherent sentences. It wasn’t your fault that the two people you’d been fantasizing about kissing on top of you turned you on. No way in hell you were ashamed about it, either.

Still laying there a bit dazed, the fluffy haired boys rolled over, taking all the heat with them. Spencer was hovering over Luke, tracing his tongue down Luke’s defined muscles before reaching his destination.

Spencer wasted no time running his flattened tongue up and down Luke’s length before sucking at the tip. Luke ran his fingers through Spencer’s hair, and both seemed to relax into each other. Despite the explicit sight in front of you, everything about the two of them, clearly starting to drift into their own world, was domestic. Caring and filled with love. You almost didn’t want to disrupt them, but the overpowering need to be near them won out.

Spencer’s lower half was over the edge of the bed, his toes being the only thing holding him up and giving him a vantage point. You slid off the bed yourself and tried to soundlessly move behind the younger man, coming to rest in a squat.

Spencer was getting Luke all worked up, raspy grunts mixing with satisfied hums as Spencer bobbed his head up and down. His movements came to a screeching halt when you leaned up against the foot of your bed and swiped your tongue quickly over Spencer’s tip. He let out a soft whine, muffled by Luke’s skin, who took a sharp inhale at the vibration.

Spencer’s dick was hard and spilling precum as you worked it into your mouth. His hips started moving of their own accord, forcing you to take him deeper, faster. The three of you started a steady rhythm that was already faltering. Both men were getting close.

Propped up only on your toes, you almost lost your balance once, digging your nails into Spencer’s side for support. He growled, and just because you could, you dragged your nails down the rest of his backside. All of the muscles tensed at once, and you smiled as best you could with your mouth full, moving your hands back to work what your tongue couldn’t.

Abruptly, Spencer pulled his hips back from you, and crawled further up the bed. You followed, getting up from your spot on the ground. Your toes, on the brink of cramping, weren’t complaining.

You realized why Spencer had pulled away so quickly, catching Luke coaxing Spencer into his lap. Even though they were in a slightly different position, it didn't stop you from what you’d been doing before.

Right as Spencer got situated on Luke’s cock, just starting to roll his hips, you took Spencer back in your mouth. You had one foot on the ground, the other knee next to Luke’s torso. Spencer was louder than you’d expected, letting curses and praises fly past his lips as if they were statistics of the utmost importance.

Luke was less vocal, but he seemed more coherent. Barely.

“Come here, baby,” Luke panted. Pulling off Spencer for a moment, you looked back at Luke. His face was already glistening, and he was gesturing toward your legs. You lifted the one closest to him, and he eased it over his head. Straddling his face, he pulled you down to him, licking a clean stripe up your slit. You moaned his name, letting your head hang.

He was just so warm. Everything about Luke was warm. His personality, his face, his tongue and mouth and literal body temperature. It made you feel safe. Thinking that, you realized just how perfect he was for Spencer. You could tell Spencer wasn’t someone who experienced warmth very frequently, you’d heard about his cold past, but you were happy that there was finally someone to show him some. It made you feel even more embarrassed that you hadn’t noticed their relationship sooner.

Lost in thought, you’d stopped doing anything besides feeling Luke’s tongue alternate between pushing into you and swirling around your clit, something Spencer was less excited about. His large hand cupped your face, causing you to look up into his pleading eyes. You stifled a giggle at the sight, quickly figuring out why he was looking at you like that. You returned to tracing your tongue up and down his cock, but it was becoming much harder to focus.

Luckily, you could feel how close Spencer was to finishing, and gave him the silent ‘okay’ to finish in your mouth.

Hot ropes of cum filled your throat, and tears pricked the corners of your eyes when Spencer pushed all the way into your mouth. You were gasping for air when Spencer leaned back from you, and so was Luke as he desperately called Spencer’s name. He must’ve been close when Spencer momentarily stopped moving to find his own release.

The pressure between your hips was building as you continued to watch Luke disappear inside Spencer. You started wriggling your hips for more friction against Luke’s mouth and slight scruff, but Luke wouldn’t let you. He wrapped his arms almost completely around your waist, and pulled you down like an anchor. No matter how much moving you did, there would be no getting out of his grasp, not like you really wanted to anyway.

You couldn’t tell which one of you finished first, but your collective moans filled the air all the same. You whined at Luke who continued to lick up every ounce of moisture from you, the sensations starting to become a little too much.

He let you go, and you took a moment or two to deep breathe, forcing oxygen back into your lungs. Once Spencer thought you’d gotten sufficient air, he took it all away from you again, leaning down to kiss you. He tasted himself on your tongue, which only made him relive the fresh memory over again.

He peppered little kisses down your neck and side, which was a tad ticklish. Spencer caught on despite you trying to keep yourself together, noticing the slight flinching in your muscles. He spent extra time working you up until you were laughing and begging him to stop.

Spencer was working his way down to Luke, who’d been absentmindedly massaging your cheeks for no other reason than he wanted to touch your tush.

You weren't sure how, but the two tall men were able to kiss each other around you, Luke sitting up and Spencer leaning forward. He got to taste you off of Luke’s lips, and was almost jealous that he didn’t decide to take Luke’s spot instead.

You leaned into Luke’s chest, resting your head on his shoulder and reaching behind you to thread your fingers through his soft curls, much shorter than Spencer’s but fun to play with nonetheless. They kissed each other with more passion than you’d really ever seen before, one hand touching the other man, their other hand tracing the curves of your body. You felt like you could fall asleep in the exact position you were in, half on Luke’s lap, half on Spencer’s.

But alas, there was still plenty of night to fill. Spencer asked if you had any lube and condoms, and you were about to get up and get them, but both men kept you where you were. You started wondering how much the two of them talked about or planned before showing up at your door, but decided those were questions for a later hour.

You directed Spencer to where both were kept while Luke turned you around to face him. You had a very quick discussion about cleanliness, something you were relieved to find out wasn’t an issue for any party, and Luke was sliding on a condom and pushing into you before you knew it. Pregnancy wasn’t something you were looking for at the moment.

Luke had been doing most of the work up until Spencer returned, his presence really only being a shifting of air behind you. Your eyes were locked on Luke’s eyes which were flicking between you and the man behind you.

It took you all the way up until Spencer’s hip bones came in contact with your ass that you realized what Spencer wanted the lube for. That and the guttural groan that ripped itself from Luke’s chest. At that point, Luke had stilled his thrusts up into you, so you decided to keep the pace, bouncing up and down on Luke’s ever-hardening dick. You braced yourself with a hand on his chest, his skin feeling like it might melt your fingertips.

Spencer snaked his hands around your body, cupping your breast in his hands and rolling your nipples around between his fingers. Spencer, you were convinced, had bad circulation, feeling colder than you and Luke. You arched your back into him regardless, giving him full access to nip down your neck as he continued to pound into Luke. You had barely noticed the slowing of your hips atop Luke’s until Spencer placed his hands on your waist with a bruising grip. He set a much faster pace for you and Luke than either of you had set before, but you couldn’t be mad. Each thrust pushed you further and further toward the edge.

That all stopped when Spencer lightly leaned you over Luke’s body, Luke gladly accepting by pulling you even closer, wrapping his arms around your back. The three of you were still moving, but only in the slightest way you could from your positions.

With your face buried in Luke’s neck, reveling in the momentary reprieve of a slower pace, Luke must’ve been looking at Spencer who was tracing all sorts of patterns on your ass. You felt like there was a silent conversation you were being left out of.

You were clued in when Spencer traced a single finger right over your puckered hole, all the muscles contracting at the sudden contact. Luke whined at the tension, as he was still completely sheathed inside you.

Spencer lightly continued his tracing, close but not too close, as he leaned over your back and asked, “Is it okay if I touch you here?” He emphasized his words with another swipe over your hole. This time, you were a bit more prepared.

You twisted your neck around to look at Spencer’s face. It was soft and questioning, showing you that, while he was interested, he clearly wasn’t going to do anything you didn’t want to. But you were intrigued. You’d only ever tried it once before with a definitely straight man, and it was just medium. Nothing you had really considered doing again until now, but you trusted Spencer. And honestly, who better to give it a second chance with than someone who knew what he was doing? Not only that, but frequently participated in it with his boyfriend?

You nodded, looking him straight in the eyes. “Yes.”

“Let us know if you are ever uncomfortable or need us to stop,” Luke reminded.

You turned your attention back to him and nodded again. “I will.”

Now with confirmation from you, Spencer dripped some of your lube at the top of your ass, watching it roll all the way down to where you and Luke were connected. Luke had stopped moving completely, and you were staying still enough for Spencer to slowly push a finger into you. He confirmed with you one more time that you were okay, which you assured him you were, before he started moving.

He was nice and slow to start, allowing you time to adjust to the feeling. As Luke started rocking back and forth with his hips, Spencer added a second finger, scissoring them to help stretch you out. You hissed at the added pressure.

Both men started moving a bit faster, pulling gasps out of you faster than you could bring air back in. You were surprised that you whined when Spencer removed his fingers, not realizing how much you were actually enjoying yourself. You felt empty with the loss of contact, but didn’t have to worry for long when the familiar ‘pop’ of the lube cap let you know it had been opened.

A few moments later and Spencer was filling you up at a tantalizing pace. Luke slowed again, allowing you time to adjust to the new sensations. The man at your back pulled clean out of you, drawing yet another whimper, as the one below you placed his firm hands on you back and rolled the two of you to the side.

Spencer was at your back again, already pushing back into you as Luke pulled your top leg over his hips, giving both men better access.

It started out slow and sensual, but gradually turned into something desperate and frantic. Hands were groping over bodies, mouths were attaching themselves to any lips or skin available. Spencer was massaging your tits from behind and Luke hand his arms draped over your hips to bring you closer to him with each thrust by your ass. The three of you were a mess of limbs and moans, each trying to meet your end.

Spencer came first, sloppy thrusts coming to a halt behind you, and tried to muffle his groans in the flesh of the base of your neck. It didn’t help much. You were right behind him, the brutal pace they had been pounding into you becoming too much. You were worried you might have blown Luke’s eardrum out with how closely you were screaming next to him, a sound your neighbor was sure to mention when filing a complaint you couldn’t care to feel guilty about.

You and Spencer were floating down from your highs, but Luke wasn’t as satisfied. He pulled out of you, cold air hitting your body and sending a shock through your system. His lips were on yours quickly, which had you melting again.

He growled in that deep voice of his about turning you around, which made you feel all tingly until he actually did it. It took more effort than you care to admit to simply change sides, facing Spencer now. It was good to look at his face again. You had absolutely no problem with Luke’s (who would?), but you wanted to look at them equally. Unfortunately, you weren’t born with eyes in the back of your head.

You were back in the same position you’d been in, just this time your other leg was propped up on Spencer’s more pronounced hip bones and not Luke’s. Spencer quickly took advantage of getting to see your face head on, capturing your lips with his. His tongue slid into your mouth when you gasped at the feeling of Luke entering you from behind. It was a bit easier for him to slide in, Spencer having already stretched you out. Luke joined Spencer as they both kissed down your neck, only stopping briefly to kiss each other.

The slightly younger man trailed all the way down to your breasts, taking your nubs in his mouth or fingers. Luke was still marking up your neck, brushing his fingers down your sides. With each of his thrusts, your heat was grinding against Spencer’s length, which you felt continually get harder. He looked into your eyes and you whispered the few words of your consent, not being able to get anything else out.

He bucked his hips up into yours, having no trouble as you were still wet from your previous orgasm and your impending one. The feeling of the two of them pushing and pulling inside you, hitting different spots from different angles, you knew you weren’t going to last long. It just felt so good to be completely filled up to the hilt.

Needing something to grasp on to, your fingers immediately found Spencer’s curls. You remembered from earlier he seemed to like it, so you tugged, pulling a delicious groan from his pink and puffy lips. You felt Luke’s labored breath on your ear, and with the few brain cells that were still working, you could tell that the three of you were very, very close.

You snapped first, clawing your nails down Spencer’s back, and the feeling seemed to be enough for him. The sound of his love and his crush moaning in harmony pushed Luke over the edge, joining your symphony.

The three of you laid there panting before both men got up to remove their condoms. Luke came back with a towel to wipe you clean of yourself, Spencer putting the lube back where he found it. Luke tossed the towel to the side, laying down next to you. Spencer walked back into your room on slightly shaky legs, which made you smile just a bit. He, too, collapsed next to you. You were able to see all the red marks on his back and thighs from your nails, and you almost felt bad for not spreading the wealth around a little more, only Spencer’s skin receiving the assault.

Soon, all of your breathing reached a normal level, and Spencer pulled the sheets up over his body, Luke helping him get you under, then sliding under himself.

You sighed with content, then laughed, drawing both men’s attention to you, as if it weren’t already. “Wow. You sure know how to apologize.”

They both chuckled with you, cuddling even closer now.

“So was it worth it?” Luke half-teased.

You pretended to think about it, but replied, cheeky, “I mean, you could have told me sooner, but I guess I don’t mind the two of you needing to apologize.” And to be honest, you hoped there’d be more reasons for apologies in the future.

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allthingsarmin · 3 years

Note

fckboy armin? + degredation is always a good combination <3

I was so excited to write this dose of Armin brainrot, omg 😩

If it’s alright with you, anon, I did this request in more of a headcanon format, but the ending is more of a fanfiction format. I’m also sorry I took so long to write this omg.

MINORS DNI!

Fem!Reader, FemBodied!Reader

TW: Mentions of NSFW topics + degradation, mean!armin, manipulation, fuckboy topics

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin whose style resembles that of the horny, manipulative, ghost-y men on campus yet is just too hot for you to handle. The way he wears dark silver rings on his left thumb, middle, and pointer fingers that accentuate his slender, pale fingers and clean-cut nails. The way the small, dark tattoos on his knuckles, right forearm, and collarbone add an aura of mystery and aggression to his being that just exudes sex. The way he wears a gold chain necklace with distressed jeans and a plain t-shirt that’s just a little too tight and shows off his pecks. Or the way he wears long black joggers and an oversized long-sleeve black shirt that makes him look taller. The way he doesn’t wear his mask correctly, always hanging on one of his ears which compliment his stud earrings and devilish smirk. The way he is broke because he’s always spending money on the newest, trendy shoes. The way he always uses way too much cologne… One look at him, and you can sense his ‘asshole attitude,’ but you can’t deny it makes your lower regions pulsate.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who’s body is so perfectly sculpted and toned that it leaves you thinking dirty thoughts in class. The way he sits in class with his sleeves rolled up, laying back relaxed in the chair, right leg bouncing out of boredom as his hard cock becomes noticeable in his grey sweatpants makes you want to run to your dorm and touch yourself. The way his abs call out to you to graze your fingertips against them when he lifts his shirt up to wipe away the sweat after walking home from the gym. The way his beautifully slender fingers hold his phone or push his hair back when he’s frustrated makes you think about how good they would feel inside you. The way his accentuated collarbone peaks through his thin t-shirts, allowing you to see the hickeys and imprints of love bites from god knows how many women makes you jealous. The way his skin is so pale and so soft that his blonde leg hair becomes barely noticeable. The way his golden hair brings out a plethora of the shades of blue in his eyes, and oh how his haircut suits him perfectly, shaping his jawline very well. How his beautiful blue eyes dangerously lure you into him, the soft but manipulative stares he gives you. How he can’t seem to maintain eye contact with you for more than three seconds because he looks at your breasts. The sinister yet sexy smiles he has plastered upon his face when talking with his friends about ‘some other whore’ he fucked the other day… Armin is attractive, and he knows he is attractive. Though you hate how arrogant his looks have made him, his suggestive stares and lip bites from such a handsome man make your heart flutter and mind only focused on one thing.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who is always posting thirst traps on instagram. You know… The pictures with the squinted eyes and the bitten lower bottom lip, either showing off his money or new shoes, pictures beside a nice car, suggestive pictures with the new girls he’s been fucking recently, biting his chain necklaces because he thinks it’s sexy. Only follows ‘successful’ men and offensive meme accounts but mostly follows half-naked women and supermodels. Leaves nasty comments on ugly womens’ pictures, calling them whores while he’s in hot girls’ DMs sending unsolicited dick pics and asking for nudes. Has thousands of followers, mostly from the party girls and rude men who go to his college. Won’t let you tag him in a photo unless he ‘looks hot.’

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who takes slutty gym pictures with his shirt off, abs out, shorts low enough to see his V line, hands in his hair, and a wink. Sends it to every girl in his snapchat contacts and posts it on his story with the ‘slide up’ text.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who hits you with the “you up?” at 2am on snapchat after ghosting you for two months. Tells you how much he misses your lewd moans and sloppy cunt, and then after pressuring you to give him nudes, he saves them and then doesn’t talk to you for at least a week.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who is so intelligent and dangerously manipulative. Who is so smart that he doesn’t need or want to pay attention in class, who convinces you to let him keep the nudes you sent him on snapchat, who reels you right back in when you try to move on from him.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who was nice to you at first, befriending you when you looked so alone, shy, and innocent, who only chose you because you looked so easy to take advantage of when he finally closes in on you.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who says he doesn’t want ‘any of that relationship stuff’ because all of his exes were crazy and that he only wants to date hot chicks.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who only texts you at ungodly hours during the weekdays and plays games like ‘20 questions’ with you so he can ask you if you’re either a virgin or a whore, if you like oral, if you’ve thought about him in dirty ways before… or truth or dare, asking you if you if you want to be his slut or daring you to send him lewd pictures of yourself.

��ᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who takes every chance he can get to turn anything sexual: the way your skirt is just a little too short that makes him suddenly grab your upper thighs, the way you innocently lick your ice cream cone on a hot summer day - he tells you to put your tongue on his cock instead, how you put your hair up in a high ponytail just makes him want to pull on it and kiss the crook of your neck… it all leaves him clouded with dirty thoughts.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who calls you ‘babe’ and refers to you as his ‘girl’ even though he has a million bitches on the side.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who makes you feel like shit about yourself because he’s constantly sending you womens’ profiles on Instagram, saying you should look more like them and ‘get a nicer ass.’

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who becomes more controlling as your sexual relationship continues, basically forcing you to let him check your phone in case you're messaging other dudes and being naughty for men besides him but gets defensive when you want to see his phone.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who refuses to eat you out but expects you to praise his cock with your slutty mouth and wet tongue.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who doesn’t really care about your personal problems or pain, and whenever you tell him you’re hurting on the inside, he offers to let you come over to his house so that he can fuck you: “once my cock is inside you again, you’ll forget all about your sadness.”

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who doesn’t use condoms because he ‘can’t feel anything’ when he wears them, so he just assumes that you’re on birth control when he cums inside you.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who violates your privacy when he’s online gaming with his closest friends, Eren and Jean, as he tells them through the microphone about how tight and wet your pussy is and how much you enjoy being treated like a slut, your mouth full of his cock and pussy dripping with his cum… going as far as sending secretive videos he took of you to them where you’re whimpering and begging for Armin’s cock.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who pressures you to do risky things you don’t want to do, but you just can’t find the courage to say no to him when he stares at you with his intense blue eyes… like when he asks you to sit next to him in the back of the class then without your approval, sneaks his slender fingers into your panties and starts harshly playing with your clit. He devilishly smirks as you try to suppress your cries of disapproval. Or like when he convinces you to let him take videos of you when you’re in a position that exposes your slick cunt to him so well. Or even how he manipulates you into trying something new that you’ve never been comfortable with, like swallowing his thick cum, letting him put you in a full-nelson, maybe letting him choke you while he spits in your mouth.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who finally closes in on you, begging you to help him study for the upcoming test since he wasn’t paying attention in class because ‘you’re just so distracting’ to him, acting so smart and innocent and respectably in front of the teacher when Armin really knows that your slutty outfits and wet pussy says otherwise… so you excitedly go over to his dorm, thankful that finally it will be a normal get-together where you could actually find out more about Armin instead of finding out more about how he likes his cock sucked. Upon entering his dorm, it is apparent that he never planned on studying with you as his textbooks are nowhere to be found, and he is sitting on the couch half-naked with Netflix on the TV.

ᵔᴥᵔ “Oh hey, y/n, didn’t expect to see you here so soon,” he says nonchalantly. You unknowingly stare at his broad shoulders, his strong chest, and of course his V-line that is not hard to miss as he carelessly talks shit about his teachers. “See something you like?” arrogance seething from his teeth as he brushes back his blond hair. You don’t say anything as your face grows red. He takes your hand and leads you to the couch. “Come on, let’s watch something.”

ᵔᴥᵔ The sound of skin slapping drowns out the voices on the TV. You don’t even know how Armin managed to get you into this position again where you’re so submissive under him, giving into him yet again. He flips you over on your back, and he props himself up, looking over your figure that’s so pathetically displayed below him. You can see his angelic hair stick to his forehead as the sweat drips down his soft but sharp cheeks. The look in his eyes has gone dark, and his smile is sinister as if he was a predator about to devour a prey. He wickedly laughs as you grind your needy cunt against his hard cock. This is where he really gets mean.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin loves to degrade you like the whore you are, constantly reminding you just how easy you are to take advantage of, how easy you are to win over with just some dick, how easy it is to make your sloppy cunt squirt and tingle from multiple orgasms, how easy it is to make you whimper and beg for his thick cock to make a complete mess of your pussy.

ᵔᴥᵔ “You really didn’t think I invited you over just to study, did you?” he snickers as he cruelly and slowly thrusts into your aching cunt, making eye contact with you and grinning as your face turns red. He grabs your throat, choking you, and begins to thrust faster which pulls shaky moans from under your breath. He inches close to your ear and whispers, “you even came over here without wearing underwear under that short skirt of yours…” he switches to the other ear, “and when I started touching your dirty cunt during the movie, you were already so wet,” you shiver at his words. He pulls back and gives you a gentle slap with his left hand, his rings stinging your face, and uses his right hand to twist your perky nipples. He begins to laugh, “but I’m not surprised that a filthy slut like you - my filthy slut - would think of such impure thoughts during something as innocent as watching a movie.” Armin leans closer to your face again, still thrusting into you at a quick pace. His warm breath raises goosebumps on your skin. He harshly grabs your mouth and tells you to open, which you submissively comply with, and he spits into your mouth which causes you to whimper. He smacks the side of your thigh. “You like being treated like some depraved slut don’t you?” You don’t reply, but the fluttering in your tight pussy says otherwise. He flips you onto your stomach, your breasts mushing into the couch, and without warning, he forces his girthy cock into your tight pussy. He is thrusting into you at an ungodly pace, making you scream and moan incoherent words. “What’s my little slut saying? Use your words, baby,” he teases. At this point, you can only call out his name. “A-armin…” He begins to torturously thrust into that one spot, and within seconds, you're bucking your hips, intensely squirting onto his couch and leaving a sopping wet dark spot. “Fucking whore, gonna have to buy a new couch because you can’t control your filthy cunt,” he growls into your ear. He quickly flips you over onto your back again, wanting to see your face. Your face is contorted with such pleasure; your eyes are rolled to the back of your head, and your mouth is wide open with drool dripping down your jaw. Armin shudders, his cock getting even harder in your tight pussy. “So hot… such a lewd slut.” He immediately brings out his phone, taking a picture. “Want me to show my friends what a cock-hungry whore you are?” You quickly nod. “So fucking pathetic,” he snarls. “I’m going to destroy your cunt, slut.” He shoves his warm tongue in your mouth, gently grabbing the hair on your foggy head. “I’m gonna break you in so bad,” he mumbles, wiping the tears from your face.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who maybe in fact does want to have that ‘relationship shit’ with you ~

__________________________

Requests are open, and feedback is appreciated <3

#armin arlert #armin x reader #aot x reader #armin smut #aot smut

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the-modernmary · 3 years

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when you gonna take me out? || derek morgan x GN!reader

Summary: You and Derek have been flirting pretty heavily for the past few weeks. So when his first time asking you out doesn't go as well as planned, he's determined to get you to say yes.

Warnings: mentions of getting shot, allusions to smut

A/N: Chapter title taken from Aly & AJ's "Take Me Out". This was inspired by a scene from the show community, and also because derek morgan deserves more love

~~~~~~~

“No, no, you see, asking somebody out is an art,” Derek explained to a very frustrated Spencer Reid. “And I think with a little practice, pretty boy, you could become a bit of a player.”

Prentiss, who had been listening to Derek trying to convince Spencer to let him be his wingman for the better part of an hour, scoffed from her desk. “Using a cheesy pickup line is an art now?”

“There is nothing wrong with a line!” Derek argued, leaning back in his desk chair. “It’s a knock at the door. And once they let you in, that’s when you strike.”

Spencer scrunched up his nose at Derek’s phrasing. “I think I’m going to leave the whole player thing to you.”

“Come on, Reid, it’s easy.”

“If it’s so easy, then why don’t you show us?” Prentiss shot.

Right at that moment, Garcia and JJ walked back into the bullpen, coffees in hand. “Show us what?” JJ questioned.

“Derek is trying to teach Reid how to flirt,” Prentiss explained. “But I think he’s just all talk. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Morgan with a significant other.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Hey, I don’t pry into your personal life?”

Garcia put a comforting hand on Derek’s shoulder. “Nobody can resist my chocolate thunder. I mean, look at him. He literally looks like he was sculpted by Michaelangelo.”

“I’m with Emily,” JJ chimed in. “I kind of want to see the Derek Morgan in action.”

Derek’s eyes scanned the bullpen until he landed on you, standing in the kitchen area and making yourself a cup of coffee. You were also a profiler, just on a different team that primarily focused on cold cases. It was no secret that you and Derek Morgan had been flirting pretty heavily the past few weeks — longing glances, pet names, and kisses on cheeks were just the start — and you both had a sneaking suspicion that there was an office pool betting on whether or not the two of you had already hooked up.

“Fine,” Derek said, standing up. “Watch and learn, Pretty Ricky.”

Derek sauntered over to the kitchen and leaned against the counter while reaching for a wooden stirrer. “Let me help you with that,” he offered.

You turned to look at him, a smile on your face. “Wow, what a gentleman,” you teased, but you handed your cup of coffee to him anyways. “I didn’t realize you knew how I take my coffee?”

“You learn a lot about somebody when you can’t take your eyes off them,” he pointed out. “Especially with the way you look right now. I mean, wow. Got a hot date tonight? Because he is one very lucky man.”

You arched an eyebrow in his direction. “Nope, no date.”

“Well, you do now, baby,” Derek grinned. “I’ll pick you up at 8:30.”

You stared at Derek, part amused and part incredulous. “Did you really think that would work?” you asked through a breathy chuckle.

Derek’s confident grin fell slightly as his eyes narrowed in confusion. “Wait, what?” he asked, unable to form any other words.

“Derek Morgan, I expected so much more from you,” you mused, snatching your coffee cup from his hand. “I know you can sweet talk better than that.”

It was Derek’s turn to raise his eyebrows, and he tried his best to ignore the barely-suppressed giggles from his teammates. “So is that a no?” he clarified, not used to the feeling of rejection. Although, it didn’t feel quite like a rejection, especially when you were smiling at him with just a hint of your tongue peaking out from between your teeth.

“It’s a… ‘better luck next time’,” you explained, taking a sip of your coffee.

Derek’s normal, confident grin returned to his face. “You’re saying I can ask you out again?” he clarified, because he did not want to be the guy who didn’t know how to take no for an answer.

You walked backwards to your desk, never taking your eyes off Derek. “Sure. It could be fun. But you’ll have to bring your A-game if you want me to say yes,” you told him, and oh, Derek Morgan loved a good challenge.

Derek walked back to his desk, feeling the stares of his teammates the whole way back.

“Like a knock on the door...” Prentiss quoted back to Derek. “So did you just get the door slammed in your face, or was nobody home?”

Derek scoffed and sat down in his chair, already coming up with all the new ways he could ask you out. He had been wanting to for a while, but the timing was always off. But now…

“Oh no, I’m in,” Derek promised, and his eyes were immediately drawn to you. He hadn’t been lying when he said that he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. “But I’m playing the long game.”

~~~~~~~

Derek and the rest of his team got pulled into a case shortly after, so you didn’t hear from him for about a week except for the occasional “how is it going?” text. They got back to the BAU in the middle of the day, but instead of heading straight home like the rest of his team, Derek made a beeline to your desk.

“Good morning, gorgeous,” he greeted, dropping a quick kiss to your temple. “Hope you didn’t miss me too much.”

A soft blush rose to your cheeks as you shut the file you were looking at, spinning your chair so that you could face him. “I missed you tons, as always. But you knew that.”

Derek’s eyes trailed up and down your body, and there was a softness to his gaze that you rarely ever saw from him. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

“Sore eyes?” you questioned. “I don’t know about that. Wasn’t there a meteor shower where you guys were at?”

“Yeah, but no meteor shower can compare to how beautifully your eyes sparkle.”

You tried really, really hard to hold in your laughter. You pressed your lips into a thin line and you bit the insides of your cheeks, but you were only so strong, and even Derek looked like he realized how cheesy and awful that line was.

You broke down into a fit of laughter. “I’m sorry,” you giggled, covering your mouth as you did. “I just — Did you google a top ten best pickup lines list on the plane ride back?”

Derek winced, but nodded in agreement. “That’s fair. Not my best work.”

“No, it was not, Romeo,” you said, patting his cheek. “But we’ll chalk it up to post-case sleep deprivation.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Derek grinned. “When the time comes, you won’t be able to say no.”

You laughed, throwing your head back as you did. “And I am eagerly awaiting that day.”

~~~~~~~

Two days later, Derek all but ambushed you at the elevator. As soon as you stepped out onto the 6th floor, Derek slung his arm around your shoulders, and used his free hand to carry your bag for you.

“Oh, this is exciting,” you mused. You reached your hand up to interlace your fingers with the hand that was draped over your shoulder. “What do you have for me today, baby?”

“I’ve been thinking,” Derek explained. “And you’re a modern, progressive, independent person. I think I’ve been going about this all wrong.”

You nodded in encouragement. He was so close, you just knew it. All he had to do was ask you.

“You don’t want to be dragged down by a bunch of strings. So how about you come over tonight, I’ll put on some mood music, light some candles, and you and I can have one perfect night of pure bliss.”

Or maybe he wasn’t as close as you thought.

“Nope,” you said, moving his arm off of your shoulders. You liked Derek Morgan, but you were not going to be another one of his one night stands. “Not gonna happen.”

“Better or worse than before?” Derek asked, already knowing the answer, and he handed your bag back to you.

“Worse. Much worse.” You paused and turned so that you were facing him. “But I like how forward you were. Keep that up.”

Derek smirked and leaned against the wall, his hands in his pockets. “Yeah? So should I keep those candles just in case?”

You pretended to think about it for a few seconds. “With your current track record, baby boy, the only place you’ll be using those candles is in your dreams.”

“You’re already in my dreams, hot stuff,” he promised you. “Every. Single. Night.”

Oh god, that was a very welcome image you would think about forever. You knew that Derek liked you, and you had had your fair share of fantasies involving him in some pretty explicit situations, but him fantasizing about you? It was almost enough to convince you to drag him into the nearest empty room.

Almost. Because if he wanted a chance with you, he was going to have to actually ask you on a date.

Instead, you blew him a kiss and left him with: “And I bet I’m even better than you can imagine.”

Needless to say, the both of you spent the rest of the day incredibly distracted.

~~~~~~~

By that point, pretty everybody on the 6th floor knew what was going on, and they were all invested. More betting pools sprouted up, and even some of the more reserved agents were putting in their two cents, albeit under the guise of disapproval.

That’s why, when a bouquet of flowers appeared on your desk one morning, it was all anybody could talk about as they waited for you to get to work. Even Rossi and Hotch had found an excuse to get themselves out of their offices and into the main part of the bullpen.

“They’re going to say yes today,” Penelope guessed. “They have to. Everybody likes flowers, and this shows the sweet side of my chocolate thunder.”

Prentiss scoffed. “I hope they don’t. I have twenty bucks on at least two more rejections.”

Rossi, who was sitting on the edge of a desk, shook his head. “These are your friends. Don’t you guys feel bad about betting on their love lives?”

“Says the guy who has fifty dollars on ‘they get drunk and leave the bar together’,” Hotch said, not even looking up at the file he was skimming through. Hotch was one of the only ones who hadn’t put money into this whole thing, but he was still very well informed. “You all should really hide the whiteboard the bets are on a little bit better.”

Rossi was about to defend himself when you walked through the glass doors of the BAU. A hush fell over the room and they watched as your smile melted into realization and then nervousness.

You walked over to the bouquet and gingerly took the card, but you didn’t even get to read it when the first sneeze came. Then the next and the next, and pretty soon your eyes were watery, your nose running, and your throat was so scratchy that you sounded like you smoked four packs a day.

You tried to focus on your work, but the constant sneezing and needing to get up to blow your nose was seriously disrupting your productivity. You could barely focus because it felt like a head cold that just wouldn’t go away. Your pollen allergy was something you’d had your whole life, and when they hit, they hit bad.

The flowers were gorgeous and such a sweet gesture, but you didn’t even have the chance to really appreciate them while you could barely breathe through your nose. You were sure you were just a distraction

A hand on your shoulder made you jump, and you whipped around to see Hotch looking down at you with concern. You sighed. “I’m sorry, Agent Hotchner,” you said, your voice nasally. “I usually keep allergy meds in my bag, but it’s not pollen season and I—”

“Go home, agent,” Hotch interrupted you gently. “Get some rest. You can come back tomorrow when you feel better.”

“No, m’fine I just need to—” You cut yourself off this time with another sneeze, and then all you could do was agree with Hotch. “Yeah, I’m gonna go home. Thank you.”

You took the bouquet and walked over to Penelope, handing the glass vase over to her. “Will you please tell Derek that these are beautiful and that I’m so sorry—” You sneezed three times in a row, and by then you were too exhausted to even try talking anymore, so you just groaned and waved goodbye to the rest of Derek’s friends before dragging yourself out of the bullpen.

The next thirty minutes went on as usual, until Derek walked into the bullpen. He had been gone all morning doing a profiling seminar for academy recruits, so he had missed your quick descent into your allergic reaction.

His face fell slightly when he saw your empty desk, and it fell even more when he saw the flowers he had bought sitting on the corner of Prentiss’s desk and his entire team talking amongst themselves.

Derek walked up to them, a frown etched on his face. “Did they not show up for work today?” he asked.

“I sent them home,” Hotch explained, and if Derek didn’t know any better, he could have sworn that he saw the hint of a smirk on the corner of Hotch’s mouth.

Spencer’s smirk, on the other hand, was not even close to being hidden. “Hey Morgan, did you know that pollen allergies affect up to 20 million adults? And sunflowers and flowers in the aster family are considered some of the worst flowers for people who suffer with pollen allergies, since the pollen is so easily dispersed by the wind.”

Realization set in Derek and he cursed under his breath. You had mentioned once in passing that you liked the look of sunflowers, so he had assumed that those were the best flowers to get you. Clearly, he was wrong.

Noticing his dejected look, Garcia quickly interjected. “But they said that they’re beautiful and they looked like they really loved them,” she comforted. “And they wanted me to tell you that they’re sorry.”

Derek shook his head. How did he not know that you were allergic? That seemed like a pretty big thing. “No, they have nothing to be sorry for. I’m going to go wipe down their desk, make sure that it’s clean for them tomorrow.”

The team watched as Derek went over to your desk, taking his time to make sure that there was no flower residue left. They all quickly went back to discussing the bet, changing up their predictions now that they had more evidence to go off of.

Surprisingly, instead of going back to his office, Hotch spoke up. “Morgan isn’t used to being told no. He’s going to break down and beg.”

The team looked at Hotch incredulously. “I’ve never seen Morgan beg for anything,” JJ pointed out, and Hotch just shrugged.

“Well, are you willing to put your money where your mouth is?” Prentiss pressed.

Hotch sighed and shut the file he was holding. “I try not to make a habit out of betting on my subordinates' love lives.”

Rossi rolled his eyes. “He knows he’s wrong, he just wants to be a contrarian,” he told the team, baiting Hotch.

Hotch narrowed his eyes slightly. If anybody else had said that, he would have been able to walk away, but this was Rossi. So Hotch reached into his pocket and pulled out a twenty from his wallet.

“None of this goes on any sort of record.”

~~~~~~~

“Derek Morgan, you got shot?”

You stood up from your desk as soon as you saw Derek and his team walk through the glass doors. It was way after hours, but the news of a shoot out at their last crime scene got back to you, and there was no way you were going to be able to go home knowing that Derek got hurt.

The rest of the team all shared a glance and quickly dispersed, giving you and Derek as much privacy as possible.

Derek made his way over to you, trying to look like he was in less pain than he actually was. “Don’t worry, hot stuff,” he told you, slumping down into his seat. “It just hit my vest.”

You stormed over to where he was sitting, worry evident on your face. “Yeah, I’ve been shot in the vest before!” you reminded him. “It still hurts like hell! What were you thinking?”

Derek forced a smile and held your hand in one of his own. “Baby, I’m okay. Really. I could even show you, if you wanted proof. Then you can stare at my abs without feeling guilty.” He took his free hand and started to lift up his shirt, and you quickly yanked your hand away from his.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, already in the process of storming away from him. “I cannot believe that you are seriously hitting on my right now. You just got shot and you’re asking me out? Agh!”

You started to walk away but Derek caught your hand just in time, laughing as he did. “Okay, don’t go, I’m sorry. I just…” he trailed off, suddenly getting serious. “I just really needed to see your smile.”

You mustered up the best smile you could. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

Derek let out a long, audible exhale. “So am I,” he admitted. “I’ve never been more glad to be here doing paperwork.”

You rubbed your hands on the tops of your thighs. “I have some leftover takeout that I had for lunch. How about I heat that up and we can share it while I help you with your work?”

“You don’t have to stay. I’ll be fine.”

You shook your head. “No, I’ll stay. I have nothing else to do.”

Derek grinned and kissed the top of your hand. “You’re too good to me.”

You smirked. “I know.”

Pretty soon, the two of you were hunched over his desk, sharing bites of dinner and chatting easily as you trudged through paperwork.

You quickly learned that he liked to read Kurt Vonnegut and that his eagle tattoo was because of a nickname he had gotten in college. You told him about your fear of the ocean and the time you accidentally set off your high school’s fire sprinkler system during chemistry.

It was nice to be able to just talk to him. It felt like you and him had been friends for years and years, not just the past two months. This Derek Morgan was different from any other version of him, and you loved it. If you didn’t already have the biggest crush on him, this just solidified it. You really, really liked him, and you really, really wanted him to just ask you on a date already.

As the night went on, the two of you had moved closer and closer, until your shoulders bumped and your legs were pressed up against each other. If you both turned your faces to look at each other, your noses would brush. And from there, it would only be a few centimeters until your lips would be on each other…

“Thank you for helping me with this,” he said suddenly, breaking you out of your fantasy. He turned towards you, and you could feel his hot breath on your neck, sending shivers down your spine. “You didn’t have to stay, but… it meant a lot that you did.”

You smiled and tried to control your erratic heartbeat. “It was no problem. I’m happy to do it, anytime. Are you feeling any better?”

“A little,” he admitted. “But do you know what would make me feel even better?”

You finally turned to look at him, and his face was so much closer than you expected. “What is that?” you whispered, unable to force yourself to speak any louder.

Derek’s lips quirked up in a smile and he moved impossibly closer to you. His lips were brushing against yours, and all you had to do was lean in just a little bit. Then he met your eyes, and they really did sparkle, and for the first time in his adult life, Derek lost all of his nerve.

“You could kiss it better,” he suggested. “Because you are much hotter than any of the EMTs at the scene.” Derek grimaced internally, knowing that he came off sounding like an asshole. All he had to do was ask you on a date. It should have been easy. So why couldn’t he?

You closed your eyes and sighed exasperatedly, pulling away. “Wow, fumbled at the five yard line,” you teased, trying to hide your disappointment. You had thought that Derek and you were really having a moment, but maybe he really just didn’t want strings attached.

Derek frowned slightly, but tried to laugh it off. It was the first time that he thought he actually had a chance with you, and he blew it. “Yeah, I guess I did, huh?”

You fought a smile as you stood up out of your chair. “Mhm. But there’s always tomorrow. And since you’ve had such a rough past few days…”

You spun Derek’s chair around so that he was facing you, and you placed your hands on the arms of his chair, leaning over him. The two of you kept eye contact for what felt like ten years, and his cologne was making you dizzy. Slowly, you pressed a lingering kiss right on the corner of his lips. Derek’s breath got caught in his throat as you pulled yourself away, albeit on shaky legs.

“And that’s all the lovin’ you’re getting from me tonight,” you teased.

Derek leaned back in his chair, his hand over his heart in what looked to be a dramatic display of affection. In truth, he was trying to calm his rapid heartbeat however he could. “Oh, light of my life,” he cooed. “That’s more than enough. It’s the only win I’ve gotten all week.”

~~~~~~~

It had been a few days since your night in the office with Derek, and he hadn’t tried anything, which worried you. He wasn’t avoiding you, and the two of you still exchanged pleasantries throughout the day, but he wasn’t flirting with you anymore.

Part of you wondered if you were too harsh with him that night, if you should have just kissed him and gone home with him. But within the past few weeks, your infatuation with Derek Morgan had turned into a full blown crush, as juvenile as it sounded, and you did not want to be another notch in his bedpost. So you were willing to wait it out, to see if you would actually say the words: “Do you want to go out with me?”.

As if you had summoned him, Derek Morgan wheeled his chair over to your desk and put down a coffee cup from your favorite little cafe in front of you.

“Iced vanilla latte with oat milk?”

“You know both of my coffee orders?” you grinned. “I’m impressed.”

“Consider it a bribe,” Derek said, and you raised your eyebrow as a response.

“A bribe?”

“Please go out with me,” Derek asked, trying not to sound as desperate as he felt. “Pretty please. This was fun for a while, but now you are the only thing I think about. I can’t do my job, and I can barely sleep. I feel like I’m going crazy. You are so hot and so smart and so funny. Please let me take you on a date.”

The smile that grew on your face was so big that your cheeks started to hurt. “I’d love that.”

Derek seemed shocked that his attempt actually worked, and he blinked a few times just to make sure he heard you correctly. “Seriously? It’s a yes?”

“Mhm,” you nodded, taking a sip of the coffee Derek got you. “You finally asked me. Of course I said yes.”

“All I’ve been doing the past few weeks has been asking you,” he pointed out.

You hummed to yourself as you scrunched up your nose. “No. You told me that we were going on a date, asked me to have sex with you twice, and the rest of the times, you just used pick up lines. This is the first time you ever actually asked.”

Derek stared at your wordlessly, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to figure out what to say. Finally, he landed on: “That’s all it took?”

“Yup,” you replied, popping the ‘p’. “Although, I do want to hear more about my eyes and the meteor shower.”

Derek let out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head as he did. “I will be sure to tell you all about it. And more. I’ll pick you up at 8?”

You were practically beaming as you watched Derek stand back up. “That sounds perfect. Oh, and Derek? I hope you still have those candles out and ready to use.”

“Baby, I never put them away.” Derek winked at you before walking back to his desk. Prentiss was mumbling something about owing Hotch money, but Derek was so high up on cloud 9 that he couldn’t be bothered to care.

“See Reid,” Derek said as he took his seat at his desk. “That’s what we call ‘playing the long game’.”

“Finally,” Spencer grumbled, his nose buried in some book Derek didn’t recognize. “Took you long enough to realize.”

Derek’s eyebrows furrowed together. “You knew?”

Spencer scoffed, flipping the page of the book he was reading. “I knew from the first time they rejected you.”

Derek leaned forward, placing his elbows on his desk. “Man, why didn’t you tell me?”

Spencer finally looked up from his book, his eyebrow quirked up. “You were ‘playing the long game’,” he quoted in a bad impression of Derek’s voice. “And since I’m running it, I get a cut of the entire betting pool, no matter who won, so it was in my best interest to keep it going as long as possible.”

Derek shook his head in disbelief. “I see. That pretty face of yours is hiding an evil genius.”

Spencer hummed in agreement and went back to his book. There was a beat of silence before he spoke again. “They want you to take them to that Mediterranean place two blocks down.”

“Okay, there is no way you know that,” Derek groaned, rolling his eyes.

“You don’t have to take my advice, but you should. Clearly, you’re helpless,” Spencer shrugged, and Derek laughed as he threw a crumpled piece of paper at him.

When Derek picked you up that night, he made sure that the flowers he brought you were hypoallergenic, and the Mediterranean place ended up being the right choice, not that he would ever admit that to Spencer.

And he did, for the record, make sure to set out those candles he promised, but at the end of the night, the two of you were too busy tearing off each other’s clothes to even bother lighting them.

#derek morgan #derek morgan fanfic #derek morgan fanfiction #derek morgan imagine #criminal minds imagine #derek morgan x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid #emily prentiss #david rossi #aaron hotchner #penelope garcia #jennifer jareau #my writing

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