Tumgik
#i had to get it out of my head right then and there sorry
surielstea · 2 days
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Territorial
Based on this request.
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Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader
Summary: Azriel was busy with work and Reader decided to go out alone, much to the males dismay
Warnings: Smut | Minors DNI | pwp | 18+ | p in v | oral sex (m receiving) | shadow play | bondage | angry/passionate sex | cum inside | creeps at a bar | reader’s kinda ditsy but we love her
4.4k words
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"Az?" I call, peeking my head out the doorway. "Azriel?" I sing, padding down the hall when I don't hear him reply. I follow the golden tether connecting us to his office, only half-clothed with my unzipped dress dipping off my shoulders.
"Hey," I spot the male at his desk, eyes scanning over a form. He doesn't spare me a glance but replies with a quiet, "Hi."
"I called for you and you didn't answer," I take a few steps closer, leaning against his desk and holding the neckline of my dress up. "Yeah?" He mumbles as he continues writing, clearly not listening to what I am saying and filling the silence. "Can you help me?" I ask and he freezes, then finally turns to look at me, ears perking at the question. "The corset," I point to the back of my dress. "Ah," He nods but doesn't move from his seat.
Instead of his hands, it's shadows that move to my back, tightening around the strings and then pulling them tight. I frown slightly but don't move as I allow the darkness to tie the strings. When they're done they return to Azriel's side, swishing around like they were trying to get his attention too, but Azriel seemed busy.
We've been staying in the Hewn City for the past few days, Azriel had interrogations to see to, then paperwork, then more interrogations. So it was easier to stay in the Moonstone Palace for the time being.
My mate was busy quite often but he always made time for me, always. So what's so different now? It might've been shallow that I continued to hover at his side, waiting for him to give me some attention.
I watch what he's so intently writing, frowning at the way he didn't even spare me a second glance. "Take a break Az, we could go to the evening markets?" I suggest and it's like the words don't even reach his ears. "Or I could open a bottle of wine and we could cuddle in bed," I add in a light tune, running my hand down his arm.
It takes a few seconds for him to reply, for the words to even register. "Maybe another time," He brushed me off and my frown deepened. "I understand, sorry for bothering you," I grumbled, then left his office and closed the door with a particularly hard force.
I told him I understood, except I didn't. He worked for Rhysand, and of course, the High Lord is still his boss but if Azriel turned in an assignment a few hours late I doubted he'd get reprimanded in the slightest. If he was anyone else it'd be fine, but this is Azriel, the male who always makes time for me and never makes me feel like a burden.
But now I was standing in the hallway alone, and a little defeated.
I curse myself for being so sensitive and walk down the hall and into the kitchen. I open the door down to the wine cellar but before I can take the descent to the basement I realize I didn't want to drink alone. I sigh, closing the door.
It wasn't that I needed Azriel to be able to enjoy myself but he's got in my head, and now he's all I want.
I decided to pass the time by going to the evening markets on my own, he couldn't be mad at me for doing it by myself when I'd already offered to include him, right?
I scribbled down on a note that I was leaving and signed it with a heart before leaving through the front door without so much as a proper goodbye.
The evening markets were much different in the Hewn City than the ones in Velaris. Every vendor seemed to be trying to con or scam me.
I came across a cart, a skinny pale woman with thinning black hair stood behind the counter with dead eyes. I notice a young pair of twins huddling beside her long, ripped skirt.
She was selling gemstones. They were all fake, you could tell by the way they gleamed under the moonlight but that didn't make them any less beautiful. A specific blue stone caught my attention. I smile softly at the woman and give her my entire pouch of gold marks, enough for a month's worth of food if spent right. She begins shuffling through the coins and only takes what's owed out as I pluck the sapphire up.
"No, keep all of it," I brush her off with a wave of my hand. Her eyes widen as she stares at me in shock. I give her a kind smile. "Get them something nice," I gesture to the two girls the height of her waist. "Thank you," She bleats out and I nod with a gentle smile, pocketing the gem before waltzing away with a small pep in my step.
I come across another stand, this one with aisles of flowers leading towards the shopkeeper. I smile as I gaze at a bush of jasmine, the scent reminding me of Amren. I continue walking down the aisle, spotting moonflowers as big as my palm, and bouquets of chocolate daisies that somehow smelt like the enriching cocoa flavor I was so familiar with.
The clerk seemed busy so I didn't buy anything, just continued to walk until there was a snag at my skirt. My brows twitch and I look down to see one of the twin girls from earlier fisting the cloth in her hand. She doesn't say anything, just holds out a white rose. "For me?" I smile gently and she nods shyly.
I bend down and take the flower, breaking off all the thorns before reaching towards her and tucking the rose behind her ear. "There, beautiful," I compliment and she flushes pink. "Thank you," She whispers and my smile widens. "Thank you, too," I say, standing. She stared up at me in wonder. "Why don't you go snatch one for your sister as well?" I suggest and she nods before scurrying off back toward the flower market.
I turn on my heel, walking with my skirts in my hands as I continue my route down the dimly lit path, shops slowly dwindling away and mage lights flickering the further down the alley I go.
I grip the material of my skirt in my hands at the shift in the atmosphere, my steps speeding up, eager to get out of the eerie ambiance.
Hyena-like laughter echoes down the stretch of the brick road and my entire body tenses. I looked to where the sound had come from, three men sat on upside-down trashcans all talking amongst each other with shit-eating grins. It was rude to assume they were of any danger to me, but I was better off paranoid than ignorant.
I reach through my mental bond towards Azriel only to be met with unbreakable, obsidian walls. I frown, flattening my palms to the cold rock but it was entirely solid and I was locked out. I huff and thrust my own shields up, blocking him out too. Instead of passing by the three men, I step into the building at my left, a bar.
I enter the tavern with a slight panic in my step. I hadn't realized how safe Azriel made me feel until I no longer had his company.
The place was packed, every night in the Hewn City was a night for a drink, there were crowds but it was eerily quiet and I had eyes from every direction staring at me. I ignored the eyes and tried not to catch anyone's gaze as I walked towards the bar top, settling into an empty stool with torn leather that creaked when I put my weight on it.
A bartender immediately comes over to me and I order something light, only planning to pass the time here until I think Azriel learned his lesson and noticed that I didn't need him to have a good time. It was petty and something he probably already knew but I had to solidify that fact.
"What's a girl like you doing all the way out here?" A gravelly voice asked and I turned to the male beside me, his long, graying beard thick with what looked like food sprinkled throughout it. I fight back a grimace.
"A girl like me?" I arch a brow, not interested in telling him where I'm from. "Sure, the fancy clothes, shiny hair," He utters. "I bet that bracelet on your wrist costs more than my house," He scoffs. I look down at the bejeweled bracelet that I wear at a constant. "Well? How much?" He asks and I shrug. "It was a gift from my mate," I utter, not knowing the exact price— but with the amount of diamonds glinting on the piece of jewelry, the stranger wouldn't be far off with the estimate of his house.
"Mate?" He grunts and I nod. "Why aren't you with him now?" He demands, sticking his nose into my business. I nearly roll my eyes. What does it matter to him anyway? "He's working," I swing my legs back and forth. "And what's this male do for a livin' to be able to afford gifts like that?" He gestures to my wrist. "He's the Spymaster of the Night Court," I say, the male gulps down whatever fear bubbled up inside him at the title.
The bartender hands me my drink and I thank him with a gentle smile.
The stranger next to me turns away from me, instead going towards whatever poor girl is on the other side of him as I silently sip my sweet drink, swinging my legs back and forth as I gaze up at the ceiling, running my eyes along the cracks and crevices, attempting to think the way Azriel does, how he notices every single thing, analyzes every movement, every breath. I wish I could observe things like him, read him the way he reads me. I huff in defeat after growing bored from one minute of observing, instead sinking into my stool.
A few males throughout the night approach me but I tell them who my mate is and they immediately back off. I liked the idea of Azriel being so feared in places like this, how he had me blocked from his side of the bond and yet was still protecting me from every male who engaged.
There was a slight commotion behind me, mumbles and synchronized footsteps like everyone was rushing out of someone's way. I ignore it, keeping my eyes pinned to my half-full glass, debating on finishing it or just going home and cuddling up with a book, perhaps Azriel is done with work.
There's a sudden presence behind me, one that's vaguely familiar but nothing too keen. A hand comes down onto my shoulder and my spine straightens at the familarity. "For the last time, I have a mate—" I begin but then I feel shadows twining up my ankles, the scars on his hand, the smell of night-chilled mist and cedar.
"I know," He started and I whipped around, wrapping my arms tightly around the back of his neck. "Az," I greet, and even if I was just annoyed with him, it felt refreshing to have his eyes on me again. "I just had the most wonderful evening," I say as he intertwines his hand with mine and pulls me from my stool. I follow, forgetting about my drink while Azriel pays the bartender with a bill too large for what I ordered.
"I wish you had come with," I say as he pulls me through the crowd, well it wasn't much of a crowd anymore, his wings gave him a large enough frame that groups had simply split in half to accommodate for him, me in tow as he guides me through the path.
"And I went to the markets and bought this pretty gem," I pull out the blue sapphire. "Remind me of your siphons, don't you think?" I hold it up in the moonlight. He looked at it and gave a dip of his head, his mind still reeling as he pulled me away from the alleyway while I continued blathering on. "And there were these twin girls who were so adorable, and later one of them gave me a flower—" I was cut off as I was completely consumed by a familiar darkness, Azriel's hand tightening on mine as he pulled us through the shadow realm, the real world seeming so bright in comparison.
"Az," I pause, looking around at our house as we land, standing in the center of our bedroom. Not in the Hewn City, but Velaris. He had taken us all the way home. "What are we doing here? Did you finish your assignments?" I say, striding up to him and realizing only now that he had yet to say anything this entire time since the bar, I've just been prattling on about my evening while he only nodded, which was typical but, it felt different, there was something cold about him.
"Azriel? You okay?" I reach up towards his face but he catches my wrist before I can make contact. "Do you know how worried I was about you?" His tone is warm but there's a certain deathly flicker in his eyes that sent a chilling shiver down my spine. "There was nothing to be worried about," I mutter, pulling at my wrist but his hold doesn't yield. "You believe that?" He arches a brow but I was too undermined to nod.
"Love," He sighs, his hold loosens and I'm met with relief. "Do you know how many people in that court want me dead?" He tilts his head and I swallow thickly, I hated thinking about stuff like that and he knew it. "How many people want to hurt me the way I've hurt them?" He adds and all I can do is shake my head no.
"I need you to understand the only way to hurt me is by hurting you, make sense?" His hand comes to my cheek, angling my head to look up at him. I meet his stare and nod bashfully.
"I do understand, but, I’m fine," I argue. "I can handle myself, I promise I was safe," I stress and his gaze hardens yet again, now I've done it.
"I know you can handle yourself, but, just let me protect you," He sighs. "Why? I don't need your protection— in fact, you had me blocked out all night, so if I did need you, you wouldn't have even been able to save me," I express and he bristles. I shouldn't have said it, I know it'd hit him where it hurt but, gods, I was so sick of feeling so dependent, like I relied on him every waking hour since we mated.
Azriel never shouted, barely ever raised his voice. But when he did, he was a different male. Animalistic and feral, and entirely uncaged. Some sick part of me found it insanely attractive. His power was so immense I couldn't help but let it turn me on, shadows flooding the room as a vein bulged at his neck as he explained why I need to be more careful when on my own, but I was barely listening to his words, just his voice, his passion. The spine-shivering tone reaches the wrong parts of my body and leaves me clenching my legs, staring up at him helplessly as the smell of my arousal becomes apparent and he shutters, his words halting as he stares at me.
"Are you fucking serious?" He scoffs and I look down at the floor with a bright flush, attempting to hide what's already known. He takes a menacing step closer, hand coming to my chin and tilting my face up dauntingly slow, I avoid his gaze. "Look at me," He snaps and I do as he says immediately, eyes staring up into his, that familiar hazel analyzing every part of me like it always did. "You like it when I yell at you?" He asked and I swallowed thickly. "Answer me, love," He says, hand tightening on my jaw and I nod with creased brows. "Yes," I confess and I could already tell my panties were a mess.
"You gonna be a good girl and take your punishment?" He tilts his head and my pussy throbs in anticipation at the promise of discipline. Again, I nod. "Yeah? On your knees then," He commands and I waste no time before dropping onto the floor before him, staring up at him with shiny, wide eyes. "Open," He says and I part my lips, tongue lulling out. Two of his fingers immediately plunge down my throat while his other hand works at the ties of his pants. I move my own hands up, attempting to offer assistance but shadows are quick to twine around my wrists and pin them useless behind my back.
I close my lips around his hand, sucking on the two long, thick, and calloused fingers. I dip my tongue between them, coating them in my saliva as he curls them into the back of my throat, forcing me to gag on them, loving the sight of my eyes rolling to the back of my head.
He gets his pants down and his cock slaps up against his abdomen, hard and leaking pre-cum, his tip red and angry. I whimpered at the sight of it as he removed his fingers from my mouth, using my saliva to further lube himself for easier entrance. He strokes himself once, then another. "Please," I rasp out, needy for his cock. He knew just how badly I needed him inside of me.
He continues pumping his cock just in front of my lips, groaning out at the intense feeling of his hand. "Open," He repeats and again, I obey. The head of his cock slaps onto the flat of my tongue and I nearly moan at the salty taste of him, tears brimming the edge of my eyes as I run my tongue up and down the underside of his member, tracing the bulging vein.
I pulled at the restraints on my hands, whining in need of more as I suck on the head of him, swirling my tongue around his tip and pressing my tongue to the sensitive slit as he grunted in pleasure.
His hand finds the back of my head, gripping my hair roughly as moans slip from me. "Three taps, remember?" He asks and I nod urgently, remembering the safe code in case he went too far, but I knew I wouldn't be using that any time tonight.
He then thrust all of his length down my throat and I gagged on him, adjusting to his size of him was impossible as he continued to abuse my mouth, tears now free-falling onto my cheeks as his other hand found my neck, squeezing occasionally when I choked on him.
I struggled to breathe as he continued to pummel into my parted lips, his head tilted back in pure ecstasy as I sucked on him hard, bobbing my head. "Gods, you suck me off so good," He praised and I rub my thighs together for any form of friction but nothing could compare to his cock. I seal my lips around his base, jerking my head as I swirl my tongue underneath his cock, drinking every drop of his pre-cum, savoring the taste and eager for more but as he twitches he pulls away from my mouth, keeping himself from crossing that fine line of release. I cry out a whine, wanting the salty taste of him on my tongue now.
"Please, Az," I sob but he ignores the whine. "Get up, on the bed," He nodded his head toward the mattress as I rose from my knees, my wrists unbinding and allowing me to crawl up towards the pillows with shaky limbs. I go to turn around to face him but he stuffs my face into the pillow before I get the chance. My back bows as I struggle to breathe and his hold ceases, allowing me to lift only slightly from the bed. His hands come to the curve of my ass, my dress pushed up by shadows. He doesn't even bother with the ties of my corset and instead tears me free from the material, shredding the gown into pieces and discarding it onto the floor. I whimper as my panties follow without any other foreplay, the cold air breezing against my soaked cunt.
"Count five then I'll let you have what you want, okay?" His hands grope at my ass and I rise onto my elbows, my back arching up into his as he leans over me. I nod with a needy moan, reveling in the feeling of his scars on my skin.
His hand rises then comes down onto my ass, a loud smacking sound filling the room, my mewls quickly following. "One," I gripe, clenching the sheets in my fists as he gives me the second one, harder, the sting lingering and sending shockwaves up my spine. I stuff my face into the pillows as I call the number, so caught up in the pleasure of it all.
His third strike is joined with a cold shadow brushing against the apex of my thighs and I scream at the friction, the neglecting had grown so strong that I could feel myself dripping down my thighs, sopping wet for him. On the fourth smack, the shadows return, this time to stay, swirling around that familiar bundle of nerves and all thoughts leave me, completely consumed by the pleasure of it all. "What number was that?" He purrs beside my ear and I shutter. "Fuck— I, I don't know," I whine. "Oh c'mon, think hard you can do it," He directs, trailing kisses up the side of my ear but it was impossible to think about anything but those damned shadows circling my clit.
"Four," I reply with a hopeful lift to my voice. "Good, such a good girl," He hums, kissing just below my ear before landing one final slap to my ass, the skin red and stinging in pure pain, and I doubt I had ever been more turned on.
"You want me inside baby?" He asked with barely anytime for me to recover, biting at my earlobe as I cry out my reply, "Shit, Az please."
I feel the head of his cock press against my folds a beat later, lathering himself in my fluids as I clench around nothing, legs jolting as I arch up higher for easier entrance, showing just how much I wanted him.
His tip aligns with my entrance and I beg for him, for every inch of him. "Need you, please," My voice shakes and he rises from behind me, his hands coming down onto my thighs, gripping them tightly. Shadows pin my legs to the bed, restricting me from moving as his tip enters me only slightly. "Don't move," He commanded and I nodded, then he thrust all of him inside of me and I felt like I split in half.
I screamed, clawing at the sheets at the intense pain yet pleasure that quickly followed. My brows knot as his base slaps against mine and without much adjustment he begins to pound his length into me, pulling strings of moans from the base of my throat. "Fuck, you feel so perfect wrapped around my cock," He sighed out, head tilting back in pure relief, continuing to pummel into me with an unrelenting force.
"You ever g'na leave without me again?" He asks in a cold voice and I shake my head no. "Use your words," He tells, and my back bows at the tone of his voice, so fucking demanding. "No, never Az," I swallow the lump in my throat. "That's right, 'cause who do you belong to?" He asks, his lips on my neck. "You, all yours," I manage to say, words not coming easy as I was too distracted by the feeling of him thrusting up to what felt like my ribs. I moan his name loudly, head hanging low into the pillows as I arch, pushing further onto his cock, his tight balls slapping against my folds while he twitches against my sensitive walls, shadows coming to contact with my clit and doubling the amount of pleasure.
"Az I can't, I can't take any more," I rasp out as he places sloppy kisses on my shoulder, biting and sucking and licking on any bare skin he could get his mouth on. "You will though, won't you?" He said and I couldn't help but agree with him, knowing it'd feel close to death if he pulled out now.
The tip of his cock brushed over my most sensitive area and I shout in euphoric pain. He smirks against my skin and continues to toy with the area, easily hitting that deep place inside of me, molding me to him, stretching my walls to fit his cock and his alone.
Marking me like territory.
"Az, I'm gonna cum— I can't," I struggle to breathe at how tight my lungs felt, the knot in the pit of my stomach threatening to snap any second now. "Go ahead baby, make a mess all over my cock," He allows and his shadows pinch my clit, forcing me into that orgasmic high.
Warmth blooms in my hips as I find release, tears falling down onto the pillows as my legs shake in pure relief, pleasure racking through me like a wave of ecstasy.
His release followed mine, as I clenched around him from my high it forced him into spilling out his warm seed into my cunt, painting my walls white and making me his entirely. "Fuck," He grunts out. "You did good baby," He whispered softly, pecking my tear-stained cheek while slowly pulling out, his cum flowing out of me and down my thighs as I slump down onto the bed, exhausted.
"No sleeping yet, I won't be able to live with myself if you don't get proper aftercare," He ushered me out of the bed as I sat up with a whine. He smiles softly then picks me up, carrying me princess-style towards the bathroom. I marvel at how easily he switched personalities, shifting between Azriel and the Spymaster so easily.
"Alright pretty girl, let's get you cleaned up."
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solarmorrigan · 1 day
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Saw someone mention how Steve tends to get defensive when he's anxious and it stuck with me, so here's my take on the "Steve breaks a dish and has a panic attack about it" trope
cw: descriptions of nonstandard panic attack, implied/referenced child abuse
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The distinct sound of shattering porcelain is followed by a vehemently hissed, “shit,” and then silence.
“Steve?” Eddie calls from the couch into the kitchen. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” Steve calls back, but his voice sounds tight in the way it does when something definitely isn’t okay.
Eddie pushes himself up and moves to the doorway, looking in to see what the trouble is. The kitchen of the house he and Wayne had been “gifted” by the government isn’t exactly huge, and he has a straight line of sight to where Steve is standing by the sink, eyes squeezed shut as he pinches the bridge of his nose, and to the red and white shards of porcelain on the floor by his feet.
“Hey,” Eddie says, but Steve doesn’t look up; if anything, his posture only gets tenser. “You’re not cut or anything, are you?”
“No,” Steve says, and his tone is still a little off, but he doesn’t sound like he’s lying.
“What was that, anyway?” Eddie asks.
Finally, Steve takes a deep breath in and opens his eyes, looking down at the mess on the laminate. “Mug.”
As soon as he says it, Eddie recognizes the colors for what the design must have been. “Shit, the Campbell’s one?”
Steve doesn’t say a word, just gives one sharp nod.
Eddie sucks a hiss of breath in through his teeth. “Shit,” he says again. “That was Wayne’s favorite.”
“I know,” Steve says tersely. “I’m sorry.”
His tone is definitely weird. “I mean, I’m sure it was an accident, Steve–” Eddie starts.
“I’m sorry,” Steve says again, almost snapping this time. “I’ll clean it up.”
“O-kay,” Eddie says slowly, watching as Steve jerks into motion and moves over to the corner where they stash the broom and dust pan.
“I’ll apologize to Wayne when he gets home,” Steve says as he starts sweeping up, even though Eddie hasn’t said a word.
“He gets home at, like, six in the morning.”
“I’ll make sure I’m up,” Steve says shortly.
“Steve, you can just tell him what happened later, he’s not going to stand around demanding an explanation. I mean, seriously, you think Wayne is gonna be pissed if you’re not there, immediately scraping at his feet when he comes through the door?” Eddie scoffs, but Steve remains silent. Eddie watches as he finishes sweeping in short, sharp motions, brows pulling together as Steve apparently fails to pick up on the joke. “…he won’t be, y’know.”
Steve shrugs. His expression has gone eerily blank, and he takes the dustpan over to the garbage can to dump it.
“Hey, don’t–” Eddie reaches out, and Steve jerks to a stop just in time. “You don’t have to toss it, man, we might be able to glue it back together.”
Steve sends Eddie a sharp look. “I’m not gonna be able to hide that it was broken, Eddie,” he says slowly, as though this should be painfully obvious.
“I’m not suggesting we hide it, I’m just saying we might still be able to use it,” Eddie answers in the same slow manner. “It’s not junk until you’re sure you can’t fix it.”
“Right,” Steve snaps, dropping the dustpan on the counter so sharply that the shards of porcelain clink against each other. “Can’t even clean up right.”
Eddie frowns, stirrings of defensiveness rising up in his gut at Steve’s continued sour mood. “I didn’t say that. I just said we might be able to fix it.”
“Fine. We’ll try to fix it,” Steve bites out, turning away from Eddie so he can put the broom back in the corner.
Eddie shakes his head, unwilling to engage with whatever snit Steve’s got himself worked into. “What happened, anyway?” he asks instead.
Apparently, this is the wrong tactic.
“What happened is, I’m too stupid to even do the dishes right,” Steve declares as he whirls back around. “Is that what you want to hear?”
“What?” Eddie is baffled, suddenly caught in the middle of an argument he hadn’t even realized was happening. “No! Why would I want to hear that?”
Steve throws his arms up, a demonstration of giving in. “Well I already said I’m sorry, and I am, and I don’t know what else you want from me!”
The heat of Eddie’s own temper is beginning to flare, but he does his best to shake it away because he still doesn’t know what the hell is going on and he doesn’t think getting angry will help. “I don’t want anything else from you! Why are you acting like I’m yelling at you? I’m not, I’m not even upset about the stupid mug, so what the hell is your deal?”
He takes a couple of steps into the kitchen, reaching out for Steve, hoping just to touch some part of him. Physical contact has always been grounding, has always been a comfort for them both; it almost seems like they can communicate better if they can just be in contact somehow. Instead of reaching back, though, Steve tenses up; it’s not exactly a flinch, but it’s as if he’s bracing himself, as if he’s waiting for Eddie to–
Eddie takes in the painfully blank expression on Steve’s pale face, the way his chest is rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths that he can’t quite seem to control, the way he’s angled himself just slightly away from Eddie, and suddenly Eddie feels cold.
It’s as if he’s waiting for Eddie to hit him.
Eddie wonders how the hell he hadn’t realized he was walking through a minefield until he was already standing in the middle of it.
(It still takes him by surprise, sometimes, that Steve’s anxiety, his panic, tends to look more like anger. That he tends to lash out like a wounded animal when he feels backed into a corner, hurt too many times in moments of vulnerability to do otherwise.)
(It takes him by surprise, but he’s learning.)
“Steve,” Eddie says softly, dropping his hand slowly back to his side, “I’m not angry.”
Steve stares at him, almost confused, like Eddie’s not doing it right, like this isn’t what’s supposed to come next. Eddie sort of wants to break something (he thinks, briefly, that he’d like to start with the fingers on Mr. Harrington’s right hand, and then move on to his left).
“It’s just a mug, Steve, it’s okay. No one’s upset about it,” Eddie says. “I’m preemptively speaking for Wayne, because I know he’s not gonna be mad at you. Seriously, getting upset over a broken cup? Does that sound like something Wayne would do?”
Slowly, once he seems to realize that Eddie is waiting for an answer, Steve shakes his head.
“Does that sound like something I would do?” Eddie asks.
Steve shakes his head again, though he’s still watching Eddie with something approaching trepidation.
“I promise it’s fine. I’m not angry,” Eddie repeats, and chances a couple of steps closer to Steve.
Steve doesn’t react this time, no tensing, no flinching, no verbally lashing out, and so Eddie lifts a hand again, reaching slowly for Steve’s. Steve lets him.
When he gets his fingers wrapped around Steve’s own, Eddie can feel how cold they’ve gone, can feel the fine tremble of adrenaline working through them, and can’t quite choke down the noise of sympathy in his throat. He tugs on Steve’s hand.
“C’mere,” Eddie says, invites him by lifting his other arm, but leaves it up to Steve.
It only takes a moment for Steve to step in close, and when Eddie lets go of his hand to wrap his arms around Steve’s shoulders, Steve reciprocates by cinching his own arms tight around Eddie’s waist. He takes one sharp breath, and then another, and Eddie can hear the way they shake going in and out.
“There you go,” Eddie says quietly, rubbing Steve’s back.
“I just dropped it,” Steve says, his voice a little hoarse. “It was an accident.”
“I know it was,” Eddie assures him. “It’s okay.”
“It was an accident,” Steve says again, and Eddie wonders how often someone has believed him – how often he’d ever even been given a chance to explain.
“It was an accident,” Eddie agrees. “You’re okay, Steve.”
Steve lets out a little noise, like maybe he’s trying to laugh, but then he pulls in another shuddery breath and rests his chin on Eddie’s shoulder. “Okay.”
In a little bit, Eddie might lead Steve to sit down on the couch, or maybe just take them both up to bed, because fuck doing the dishes after this anyway; he’ll make sure to leave a note for Wayne about the mug (ask him not to bring it up until Steve does, to not even jokingly make a thing about it), but for now, he concentrates on holding Steve close.
He’ll stand with him as long as it takes for the shaking to stop, for his breathing to even out, for him to relax even just a little against Eddie, and he'll promise, as many times as Steve needs to hear it, that it’s okay. Things will be okay.
[Prompt: Embracing your partner]
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dearaceofhearts · 3 days
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you walk out after an argument
characters: husk, alastor, angel dust, vox, lucifer word count: 2.9k genre: angst to fluff summary: after an argument with them, you walk out and don't come back for a few days. how do they react? author's note: hello yes this is my first time actually posting something. erm, i think i wrote too much (sorry) but hey we roll with it!! also dude i accidentally posted this before it was ready twice and i had a heart attack oh my god. anyways i don't think vox's is really fluff (oops) but everyone else's is
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♡ husk
when you slam the door shut on your way out, husk lets out a low grumble, setting down the glass he was cleaning onto the bar counter with a quiet sigh. it was one of the first arguments you'd had in a long time. although he wasn't usually one to get riled up so easily, the two of you knew each other well enough to know just what buttons to push to get under the other's skin. that, alongside him already having a bad day, had been a recipe for disaster.
in the few days that pass by, it's hard to tell just how affected he is by your absence since he does a pretty good job of keeping a cool facade. to anyone looking, he wouldn't appear any different than usual, just idly cleaning bottles as he always does.
but it's the small things that give away just how much husk cares and worries for you, like how his eyes flicker towards the door whenever someone comes in, his ears perking up slightly. he hates the twinge of disappointment that follows when it's not you, a slight scowl curling at his lips as he takes a swig of alcohol from one of the many bottles on the shelves of the bar. he misses talking to you. you're his favourite drinking buddy, after all.
his gaze always seems to wander back to the front door of the hotel, lingering for just a little too long before he eventually turns back to the bar, expression settling back into its usual grouchiness. but underneath that lies a hint of worry that gnaws at him in the back of his mind, even though he knows you're more than capable of handling yourself. at the end of the day, you can never be too careful in hell.
husk won't force you to come back, but he just wants to know that you're safe and sound. he trusts that you'll come back when you're ready so that the two of you can talk it over and hopefully resolve things. he doesn't want to leave it like this, and he's sure you don't either. you mean a lot more to him than he'd like to admit.
when you decide to finally return to the hotel, he pauses upon catching sight of you stepping through the doorway. he can't help the small wave of relief that washes over him, though you wouldn't be able to tell by the way he smoothly resumes restocking the bar. when you approach the counter, he looks up, giving you a short nod. "hey." he greets you, tone surprisingly softer than you're used to, "you're back."
husk's not really the type to beat around the bush, so he'd likely address the argument pretty quickly. he's also not particularly one for verbal apologies, so he'd probably be more willing to show it through his actions. you see it in the way he lets you cling to him a little longer than he normally does, leaning into him as he wordlessly holds you, his tail loosely curling around your leg. if you listen closely, you can hear some faint purring, too. it makes you smile slightly.
"alright, 'nuff of this sappy stuff." husk grumbles after a few more moments, patting your back gently before pulling back. "i'd kill for a drink right now. care to join me?" he raises a brow, a familiar glint in his eyes as he slides back behind the counter, already moving to make what he knows is your favourite drink.
you grin as you meet his eyes, expression softening. "of course. i'd love nothing more."
♡ alastor
"you're not listening, al." you murmur, exhaling quietly. this makes him pause for a moment, head tilted. your voice sounds different to what he's used to — you're not even angry, no — you just sound... tired. the argument had been going on for a while, and neither of you were getting through to the other.
when you move to leave, he makes no move to stop you, simply watching you with an intent gaze. his voice rings out clear as day in the empty silence. "where do you think you're going, my dear?"
he falters ever so slightly when you turn back to face him with a sturdy, stern gaze, responding with a flatly spoken "out", leaving no room for anything more to be said before closing the door behind you with a quiet click.
alastor won't chase after you, because he expects that you'll come back to him of your own accord. to him, it's basically guaranteed how this'll play out. he's used to demons falling right into his hands without having to exert much effort on his end, and believes that this would be no different.
so when a few days pass by with you not approaching him at all, he finds himself slightly irritated and mildly perplexed, eyes narrowed as his clawed finger taps against his cane with idle impatience. why haven't you sought him out yet?
he's seen you around the hotel, but you've never once acknowledged his presence even if the two of you were in the same room, breezing past him while he's left staring, watching you converse with everyone except him. his eye twitches in irritation, the perpetual smile on his lips strained.
...eventually, after playing a long waiting game to no avail, he decides that perhaps rosie would be able to offer some helpful advice on how to approach this situation, since he's not used to actually handling delicate emotional matters without the— well, the manipulation and deal-making.
one of the main issues is his massive ego. it's that unfaltering pride that gets in the way of him apologising. he may be the radio demon, but all that power can't help him here. and he'd never openly admit to such, but he truly is at somewhat of a loss here. he's already tried most things that he's sure would usually make you forgive him, though for a reason unbeknownst to him, it's not working this time.
"oh alastor," rosie shakes her head with a small huff, "a lady's heart is to be treated with care." she lends some further words of wisdom and encouragement that he listens to with great attentiveness, since he does (begrudgingly) enjoy your company, and it would be a shame if it was lost over such a, in his eyes, trivial matter.
upon his return to the hotel, he manages to get you to sit down with him (after much polite pestering and insistence) to have a chat over some tea. when all is said and done, the two of you sit in a comfortable silence. you sip your tea, watching the blazing fires of hell from the balcony.
"refill?" alastor offers, glancing at you briefly through a sip of his own tea.
"much appreciated." you hum, legs crossed as you throw him a small, slack smile.
♡ angel dust
his frustration slowly fizzles out as the door closes behind you, and the guilt slowly starts to creep in. he knows he shouldn't have said what he did, and he wants nothing more than to apologise and make it up to you — but he understands that it's probably better to give you some time to cool off before trying to approach you again.
despite the argument and the harsh words exchanged between you, the fact that he cares for you with his whole heart will never change, and he hopes you know that too.
while you're away, angel always finds his thoughts drifting to you, wondering how you're doing. are you eating okay? are you drinking enough? sleeping enough? with a shake of his head and a small sigh, he tries his best to return his focus back to the task at hand, whatever it may be.
he knows you can take care of yourself perfectly fine, but he just... misses you. the guilt eats away at him when he's reminded of the look on your face when you left, the brief glimmer of hurt in your eyes before you masked it with anger and tore your gaze away.
one particular night, angel heads over to your room in the hotel out of habit, not really thinking about it when he raises a fist to knock on the door. he had been hoping to spend some time with you, since today had been a particularly rough day for him. he's also been craving for one of your sleepover nights for a while, those nights where you two would stay up to talk about anything and everything until dawn rises. those times were comforting for him — a rare moment of respite in his life.
but then he stops abruptly, remembering that you're not there. he lets his hand fall back to his side, expression quietly downcast. he stands alone in the silent, empty hallway. has it always been this cold?
after a few days, he's just about damn ready to go looking for you, making his way down the stairs as he prepares to head out. he's so focused that he almost misses the sight of you seemingly casually sitting at the bar, nursing a drink in your hands whilst exchanging low murmurs with husk.
he freezes momentarily, taking a deep breath. while he mentally debates with himself whether to approach you or not, husk notices him hesitating on the staircase. he catches angel's gaze, giving him a subtle nod. that's all the affirmation angel needs.
he slides on his usual relaxed demeanour, though it's a little weaker than normal, as he approaches you. he's admittedly a little nervous, but he's determined to work things out with you. he puts a gentle hand on your shoulder to catch your attention. "hey, darlin'. can i talk to you for a minute?"
the two of you head back to your room, where heartfelt apologies are exchanged and a long overdue conversation takes place. at some point during the talk, his hand had found its way on top of yours, thumb brushing over your skin gently. at the end of it all, he gives you a small, content smile. "...baby, you have no idea just how much i adore you." he whispers into the quiet, running his fingers through your hair comfortingly as your head rests on his shoulder.
it was an unspoken agreement that tonight was going to be a sleepover night. prepare for lots of cuddling and gentle, soft kisses.
♡ vox
he's the type to go "ha, see if i care!" when you leave, but he'll still check on you occasionally through the various cameras and electronics around the city — he swears it's just because he's making sure the new limited edition voxtek product he had given to you isn't damaged.
(...it's totally because he's looking out for you, by the way. even if it's only a little. you are his darling, after all. and uh, you'll never know what happened to that guy who tried to hit on you that one time).
(vox made sure not even a trace of that bastard remained).
his obnoxious pride makes him reluctant to reach out first. that, and he's a petty little shit. so everyone around him, whether that be the other vees or his employees, is stuck dealing with his foul mood. he's become even more irritable and susceptible to lashing out than usual since you left.
he'd rather die than admit it, but you were a calming presence in his life that he hadn't realised he needed until you were gone. he hates just how much power you have over him, though you may or may not realise it. he's supposed to be the one in charge. when did you manage to sneak into his heart? his mind is occupied with thoughts of you.
and it only frustrates him more, because you're not here.
all his employees are left on edge, even more so when he takes his anger out on some poor soul who had gotten the numbers wrong on the report they handed in. "clean this mess up." vox snaps, glowering as he fixes the cuffs of his sleeves. the demon at the door hurriedly moves to do as he says, not wanting to risk meeting the same fate.
"what? what are you looking at?" he turns, eyes narrowing at the rest of the employees who flinch, hastily turning their eyes back to the screens in front of them. "get back to work." he mutters sharply, an unspoken threat in his words.
his volatile temperament goes on for a while, until velvette decides she's finally had enough and sends you a (not so) polite text to resolve your little lover's spat before she takes matters into her own hands.
meanwhile, vox is in his office. nothing seems to be going his way, and he's just about to blow another fuse when you nonchalantly throw open the doors, inviting yourself in. he freezes, staring at you for a few moments. you raise a brow. "...so. i heard you were throwing another hissy fit."
vox scowls at that, grumbling under his breath. "oh yeah? and what'd you come back for, you prissy little princess?" he sneers, clawed fingers digging into the desk with a quiet screech. "couldn't go without me for long, huh?"
"ha. you wish that was the case." you scoff, rolling your eyes with a half-amused, irked smile curling at your lips. things escalate into another argument pretty quickly, with the two of you at each other's throats. he towers over you, eyes narrowing as his grin widens in mild irritation.
it's a back and forth for quite some time, until you get sick of it and grab him by the collar of his shirt, yanking him closer until you're glaring at one another face to face. "what the fuck do you think you're—" he starts, but he's quickly cut off when your lips crash into his. vox is stunned for a few moments but soon snaps out of it, swiftly returning your kiss with equal, if not more, ferocity and intensity.
"finally got you to shut up." you murmur, grinning as you part to catch your breath and release his shirt from your grasp. before you can pull back completely, however, his hand reaches up to rest against the back of your neck, the other firmly on your waist. it takes another long, drawn-out kiss for him to finally let you go — though not really, since he's still holding you close in his arms.
"...that was hot." he whispers breathlessly, staring down at you with a somewhat satisfied glint in his eyes. but you both know that there's more to come.
suffice to say, the two of you sorted things out.
♡ lucifer
he would regret everything almost instantly. lucifer realises just how badly he fucked up when you leave without looking back. he's not even quite sure what happened as he stands alone in the room, blinking as he's left to process everything on his own. his mind is a jumbled mess, and he can't think clearly.
all he can feel is a suffocating rush of fear as he snaps out of his daze and hurries after you, desperate to find you before you're gone. he doesn't want to take his chances. what if you don't come back? what if—
he had said things that he didn't mean, and now the weight of it all feels crushing on his shoulders. he's torn between wanting to reach out to apologise and giving you time to cool down. he doesn't want to be a bother, but also really wants to make things up to you.
most of all, he just wants reassurance that you'll come back to him and that he hasn't messed things up for good. he doesn't want to lose you. you're too precious to him for that, and he's mentally kicking himself for ever making you question your importance to him for even a second.
thankfully, you haven't gone too far so he's able to catch up to you, taking a hold of your wrist firmly. however, when you turn to look at him, he falters, the words dying in his throat. he swallows, softly clearing his throat as he scrambles to say something, anything to stop you from leaving. to reaffirm his love for you.
"...sweetheart, i'm so sorry," he whispers, expression twisted and heart heavy with remorse and sorrow as he brings you close, grip subconsciously tightening because he's afraid to let you go. "i'll do anything, i'll make it up to you, i—" he trails off, burying his face into your shoulder, "just, please... don't leave. i'm sorry."
you really can't stay mad at him for too long after seeing his genuine sincerity. he acknowledges his wrongs, wanting nothing more than to make up for his mistakes and make you feel as appreciated and cared for as you've made him feel over the course of you two knowing each other. you sigh gently, thumb lightly brushing over his cheek. "...alright, silly. let's go home."
his eyes light up at that, and he's reminded of just how grateful he is to have you here by his side as you guys make your way home together. he holds your hand the entire time.
after the two of you make up, you find that he'll leave little gifts and cute trinkets around for you despite your gentle assurances that he doesn't have to. he also gives you lots of forehead kisses. he just wants to make sure you never forget how much he loves you, and that you mean the world to him.
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© dearaceofhearts ー all rights reserved. please do not steal, use or modify my works!
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sweetestdesire · 1 day
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SO DAMN NEEDY
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WARNINGS: absolutely none. Just some pure, sweet content.
PAIRING(S): Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader
SUMMARY: in which Quinn Hughes is a surprisingly needy boyfriend.
Arms tightened their hold on Y/N as Quinn groaned, burying his head into her chest. Sighing, she glanced at the clock, trying her best to wriggle out of his grip as he fell into slumber once more, but his arms locked her in place again. Mornings with Quinn always tended to be unproductive, he wasn’t one to give in once he decided on something and most mornings, he decided she’d stay in bed with him for as long as his heart was content.
"Quinn.” Y/N sighed, prodding at his shoulder. He pretended not to hear her, the little shit. She could feel the tiny smile on his lips against her chest. "Quinn, let go."
"No." He mumbled. "Don’t wanna." It was an everlasting effort to try not to roll her eyes at her boyfriend, he made the task harder than most. Pinching his arm, she glared at him when he jolted a little, staring at her in shock.
“Quinn, please.” Y/N sighed tiredly, but Quinn could hear the smile in her voice. He could even feel it as her lips pressed against his forehead in a gentle kiss, but he didn’t let the soft touch of her lips bribe him into letting go, however. Instead, he was shifting more weight to press onto her as his face hid in the crook of her neck, pulling an exasperated groan out of her as she glared down at him.
“No.” He mumbled, latching onto her body tighter. “Stay.”
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.”
“I need to get up.” Y/N huffed. “I’ll be late for work again.”
“Then be late. Just tell them you had important things to do.”
“Cuddling in the morning isn’t important, Quinn.”
“That’s rude.” Quinn interrupted, pouting into her neck as his hands squeezed her hips. “It’s important to me.”
Y/N couldn’t help but roll her eyes, and couldn’t help but purse her lips as she looked down at the mess of hair under her chin as Quinn tucked himself into her. It was a losing battle every morning, a constant back and forth that she knew she was powerless to win. At first, Quinn seemed like a distant guy. He seemed like someone she’d get lucky to even hold hands with, someone who kept his space and maintained his composure. At least, that’s what she used to think.
It didn’t take long after dating to realize he was quite the opposite. That he was clingy in the mornings, that he needed far too many kisses throughout the day to be normal, that he followed her around the house like a lost puppy, that he couldn’t sleep without her playing with his hair at night. It was funny at first, it was cute and made her just a little giddy that he was as needy as he was around her, but sometimes, like right now for example, it was just a little inconvenient too.
Y/N rubbed over the bare skin of his back, feeling the rippling muscles under her palm. Letting out a content sigh, he nuzzled deeper into her, pressing a tiny kiss to her other hand when it laid on his cheek. “I really should get up.” She whispered.
“I missed you last night.” He mumbled. "Just wanna spend more time with you."
"Quinn, we spent the whole night together, what are you talking about?" Pouting, he gently guided her hand to his hair, leaning into her touch. She smiled at his ploy to get her to stroke through the strands, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead as she did.
"Didn’t even talk to me.” Quinn grumbled. "Just slept the whole time.” His voice was accusatory, as if she betrayed him for doing the norm and falling asleep. He pouted bitterly at the memory of being cut off during his rambling by her soft snore.
"Oh.” Y/N rolled her eyes. "Sorry, I’ll try not to do that next time."
"I’ll wake you up if you fall asleep while I’m talking tonight. Swear I’ll do it.” He warned. Y/N snorted, making him crack a smile, humming when she gently scratched at his scalp with her nails.
"Okay, drama queen. You’re bad for my sleep schedule, you know.” Y/N scowled. His eyes closed, the scent of her perfume and body wash wafting through his nose. “Quinn, you have to let go.”
“Don’t wanna.” He grumbled, grabbing her hand and planting it over his head. Y/N sighed and yet, she was tangling her fingers into his tresses and scratching at his scalp. And really, she hated to admit it, but maybe it wasn’t entirely his fault that he was as spoiled as he was. She never seemed to really be able to fight against him, giving him exactly what he wanted no matter how many times she told herself not to.
“You’re so damn needy.” Y/N mumbled, slowly rubbing circles into his back as he sighed happily. She eyed the clock wearily, watching as the seconds ticked by and the minute hand moved slowly but surely until she was late just like she was every morning with him.
“No, I’m not.” Quinn murmured, and then his head tilted up and his lips tugged into a tiny pout as she pulled her hand away from his head. “Why’d you stop?”
“See?” Y/N snorted, pinching his nose affectionately. “Very needy.” Her hand moved to cup his face, rubbing a thumb over the swell of his cheek.
There was something satisfying about seeing someone like him pout as he pressed his face deeper into her palm, something that made her chest swell fondly as he closed his eyes and leaned into her touch, something that made him that much more human. Sometimes, Y/N almost didn’t think it was the same person. The man she’s watched shove sweaty bodies into the boards couldn’t be the one sprawled over her body right now, couldn’t be the one who whined for five more minutes of cuddles in the mornings as she was running late for work.
“Can’t you just call in sick?” Quinn grunted, plopping his head onto her chest, staring up at her as he propped himself up on his chin.
“No.” Y/N rolled her eyes. “You ask me this every morning. The answer is still the same.”
“If you loved me, you would.” He grumbled, glaring at her as she poked his curled lips with a giggle.
“Don’t I love you when I run late every morning for your extra cuddles?”
“Hardly.”
“You’re so ungrateful.” Y/N flicked his forehead, chuckling as he clicked his teeth and swatted her hand away. “I risk my job for you every damn morning.”
“You don’t need it.” He insisted. “I’ll take care of you, and you stay with me in the mornings. It’s a win-win, see?”
“I don’t think being stuck under you is a win.”
“Oh, yeah?” Quinn grinned, making her heart skip a beat. “But you never seem to complain when you’re under me.” He said cheekily. And he was unfair looking up at her in that handsome way he did, throwing her that lopsided smirk with a strand of hair loosely hanging across his face. Y/N trailed her thumb along his cheeks and across his nose, tracing over his lips and under the crinkles of his eyes. For a moment, she thought maybe he wasn’t the only one who’s needy. She thought maybe she needed him just as badly as he needed her, too.
“Quinn.” Y/N groaned, throwing him a dirty look as he snickered. “I really have to get up.”
“Just five more minutes.” He pleaded, flopping back onto her chest and snuggling against her, tucking his head under her chin. And when she kissed his forehead, he was sure he won just like always.
“You said that like twenty minutes ago.” She raised an eyebrow.
“This time for real.” Quinn mumbled. It was a lie, she knew it as well as he did, but she didn’t think it was a morning without him clinging to her body until she was more than a little late. So with a fond smile and a roll of her eyes, she wrapped her arms around him as she kissed the top of his head, pulling the blanket over his body as he sighed in content.
“You’re such a liar.” Y/N snorted, shaking her head as he smiled victoriously into her shirt.
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luveline · 1 day
Note
i would absolutely love a Hotch and stripper reader, him taking care of her after some kind of incident at her club or something? maybe a bit of angry hotch at the beginning, some angst? 💗💗💗
Your throat burns by the time his car pulls up. 
You take the butt of the cigarette from between your lips and ash it next to the first. Your hand is sore between the index finger and thumb from a bad stretch, aching as you press into your pocket for your stolen box of Marlboro golds. You’ll apologise for taking them some other time. 
You press the third between your lips and flick the lighter. You’re not good at lighting them, worse at the first inhale, your throat an agony that rivals the sting of your battered cheek. 
Shoes on the sidewalk, a scratch of loose gravel. Your eyes well with another line of tears that you work hard to hold in, taking another quick, cruel drag. They don’t make cigarettes long enough, in your opinion. They don’t last. 
He stops in front of you. Quiet, Agent Hotchner looks down at you where you’re sitting on the low wall, expression as steely as ever. You meet his eyes, worried your wobbly lip is giving you away, not sure calling him was the right thing to do after all. 
When he raises his hand to the cigarette you let him take it. His fingers wrap carefully around the butt of it, the side of his thumb brushing your lips. 
He flicks it to the ground and steps on it flat. 
You don’t say hello. It’s obvious you’ll cry, he can tell too, and he doesn’t make you. You wince as he raises his hand again, your eyes squinting closed, but he isn’t going to hurt you. His palm is warm where it cups your cheek, turning your face to the light emanating off of the club neons. 
“Do you know his name?” he asks. 
“No.” 
He raises your chin higher still. His frown turns to a glare, the brunt of which is directed elsewhere but intimidating all the same. His touching is gentle at least. 
“What happened?” 
“I told him no.” 
His jaw ticks. “Can I take you home?” 
You sniffle, turning your face out of his hand and down to your lap. He’s kissed you, he’s done more than that, but he knows you’d felt like you had no choice and so he’s giving it to you now. It’s exactly why you’d called him. It’s the man he is, and he should never have ended up looking after you. 
“Sorry I called you,” you say, hiding your face in one hand. Pain flickers behind your eyes as tears mount for the tenth time tonight. 
Hotch gives a sigh, sitting on the wall beside you. He wraps his arm behind your back and with a familiarity you need desperately. You press yourself into his side, sew your arm hesitantly over his stomach, the starch of a pressed shirt crisp on your clammy skin. 
“It’s cold out here,” he murmurs, bringing both hands to your arm, one to hold you tight, the other to rub your cool skin. 
“I think I want to quit.” 
He nods into the side of your head. “I think you should,” he says, “if that’s what you want… honey, you can do whatever you want.” 
“I don’t think I can. I’m trapped and it’s my fault.” 
“It’s not your fault.” He encourages your head under his, your face to his neck. When he talks, it’s a quiet, lulling promise. “You’re not trapped. I’ll do anything you need me to do. If you want an apartment, I’ll get it for you. If you want to shut this place down, I will. The last thing either of us want is for you to work here when you don’t want to.” 
“You don’t have to say work here like I’m not a glorified prostitute,” you say hotly, anger turned in rather than out. 
“You don’t really think that.”
Being a sex worker is complicated. You don’t know how you feel about it, and you can’t ever understand why Hotch would bother with you. You’d worried at first that your vulnerability is what attracted him, like a kid with a broken bird, but he’s proved a hundred times that your job is pretty much separate from why he likes you. He thinks you're pretty. He loves your voice. You make each other laugh, and somehow inexplicably he’s the first person you call when things go wrong. 
“Quit your job,” he says. “Even if it’s just to dance somewhere else.” 
“You can say strip.”
He nods. “You shouldn’t have to worry whether your ‘no’ will be met with a backhand. You know that breaks my heart?” 
You blink and pull away from him. He isn’t unemotional, but it’s a surprise nonetheless to hear him talk like this. “Aaron–” 
“Please,” he says. “I shouldn’t ask you to. But there are better places for you. You deserve more.” 
If it were anyone else you might get defensive. Only people who do your job could understand why you do it, it’s a hundred different things to you, but you do deserve more. You’re sick of leery men, sick of wolf whistles and bad tips and other people's hands. Hotch has never asked you to stop, but now he is, it’s to keep you safe. 
You can’t begrudge him. 
“I’m sorry,” you say. 
“No.” He rubs your arm. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. And I’ll make it right.” 
“It’s not your fault.” 
“I’ll make it right,” he promises. “No matter what. No one gets to hurt you.” 
You could quit. You want to. Even if it’s just for a couple of weeks, just so you don’t have to pretend you know what you’re doing. You’ll think about it in the morning. “Could I stay with you for a bit?” you whisper. “Just tonight. Please.” 
Hotch taps your back for you to stand. He stands with you, brushing down your coat, his eyes impassive where they look over your face, your purpling bruise. 
“You can wait in the car,” he says quietly. “I’m going to ask a few questions inside before we leave.” 
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evie-sturns · 22 hours
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toddler - Matt Sturniolo
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summary: having 2 toddlers isn't the easiest, espically when you're currently pissed at your husband matt after an argument. one night you get pushed to the point of a breakdown when the kids won't behave and matt's there to help you.
contains: dad!matt, fluff, slightly suggestive , crying, slight mental breakdown, comforting, angst?
a/n: this was loosely based off of how daddy matt was in today's vid.
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7:38pm
matt and i had an argument last night leaving me in tears, he’s been in his bedroom this whole day leaving me to deal with our two twins which are both 3 and a half.
i attempt to cook up something that somewhat resembles a dinner for our girls but the only thing occupying my mind is the events of what happened last night.
yesterday
“why is this house always so fucking messy!” matt’s voice booms throughout the living room as he abruptly stands up
“shit, i don’t know maybe because you got me pregnant at 18 and i’m the only one who does anything for the kids our this house!” i raise my voice back at him
matt lets out a shocked laugh “sorry that some people have fucking jobs and don’t lay on their ass with the kids all day and call it tiring?”
“lay on my ass? i clean, i cook, i take the girls to daycare and i bring them home, i do everything”
“if everything includes not having a fucking job and using up my money that i earn then sure, you do a whole lot” matt says with a slight attitude.
“all you fucking do is act like you have it hard when you don’t! get a fucking grip” he yells
the whole room goes silent, i erupt into tears and walk out of the room to our spare bedroom
“and always fucking crying.” i hear him scoff, only making my state worse.
my thoughts are cut off by a wail coming from behind me, my head spins back to see millie with a fistful of claire’s hair, yanking.
i instantly drop the wooden spoon into the pot before speed walking towards the twins
“stop it!” i yell, grabbing millie from under her arms and staring into her eyes angrily “go find daddy, not acceptable millie.” i raise my voice, placing her down.
she folds her arms with a huff, stomping her little legs down the corridor to matt and i’s shared room.
“you’re okay claire” i coo, fixing her pigtail which sits on the very top of her head
i pick her up and place her down on the couch with one of her stuffed animals before making my way back towards the kitchen.
i turn down the heat on the stovetop slightly with an exhausted sigh
suddenly i hear small giggles coming from behind me followed by the backs of my knees being pushed
“fuck!” i yell, stumbling over and grabbing the handle to the pot, spilling boiling spaghetti onto the floor, also splashing up onto my sweater.
millie goes silent before sprinting in the other direction with claire
as of things couldn’t get any worse right now i hear matt’s voice start something
“what are you actually fucking doin-“ he cuts himself off when he sees the state i’m in
i burst into sobs, matt looks down at me with concern painted across his face
“hey- shh sh you’re okay, you’re okay.” he says frantically, walking over to me and kneeling on the floor
“matt i can’t do this the kids aren’t behaving and i can’t fucking make them something they’ll like-“ i start, saying in between shaking breaths
he carefully picks me up from under my arms before switching his grip to the back of my thighs, i bury my face into his shoulders and feel matt take in panicked breaths
he speed walks us down into our bedroom at the end of the corridor, “are you hurt sweetheart?” he says, placing me down on the bed and peeling my sweatshirt off of me
“did the hot water soak through? shit.” matt says trying to stay calm.
“no-“ i sniff, rubbing my eyes. matt yanks his sweatshirt off his body and lays it across me like a blanket.
“stay right here okay? i’m gonna sort the kids out then put them to bed, then i’ll come back to talk, try get some sleep for me gorgeous.”
matt presses a kiss to my nose before rushing out of the room, leaving the door open behind him.
i have a clear view of kitchen from where i’m laying so i see matt walk into the kitchen before kneeling down
“c’mere.” he demands, sticking out his arms. millie and claire toddle over to him with a guilty expression across their face.
“tell me what’s happened.” matt says sternly, maintaining eye contact with both of them.
millie bursts into tears almost immediately as she looks at matt
matt runs his hand up and down her arm as he waits for a response
“we- we pushed mommy and she fell and spilt hot water on her and hurt her” she sniffs
“a-and.. and you’re mad at me” she continues.
“do i look mad sweetheart?” matt says softly, claire shrugs along with millie
“i’m really really sad that you weren’t behaving for mommy, and i know you know better than that right?” matt speaks
millie nods, wiping her nose with the backs of her hand
“and now i’m gonna ask you to go clean up the spill with claire and then we’re gonna go say sorry to mom okay?” he says gently, pressing two kisses to the girls forehead
they nod in unison before going into the kitchen, matt hands them the paper towels and they instantly drop down to there knees and attempt to clean the mess.
matt watches while biting his nails “why do you think you made mommy cry though?” he says, claire looks up at him with a heaped pile of paper towels in her hands
“because we were naughty.” claire sighs, matt nods while gathering the piles of drenched paper towels and throwing them away.
“what i’m ‘gonna ask you to do is sit down at the kitchen table and think about how you will say sorry to mommy tomorrow while i make you dinner okay girls?”
claire and millie run over to the dining table, more than hungry and tired now.
matt sorts through the pantry before settling on mac and cheese which i wasn’t even sure we had.
after a good 10 minutes matt brings over the two small bowls to the twins, who have been silent ever since they sat down.
“you have to eat all of this okay?” matt says while placing the bowls down. claire and millie nod
—-
8:56pm
matt finishes up the last dishes in the sink before walking over to the girls “you alright?” he asks softy before picking both of them up, one in each arm.
matt walks down the corridor, flashing me a quick smile as both the girls bury their head in his shoulders.
“they’re very tired” he mouths to me with a small laugh while walking into their shared bedroom.
i hear the door shut followed by matt walking into our bedroom. “you feeing better gorgeous?” he asks calmly as he flops down in bed beside me.
“thank you for doing that.” i sigh, rubbing my eyes with my palms.
“don’t thank me? i’m their dad and i realise that after yesterday’s.. argument that you’re right and i do need to start caring more.” matt looks over at me.
“you don’t have to just say that” i whisper
“i’m not just saying that, i actually mean it.” matt responds with an unreadable expression
“the shit you said last night..” i start, my voice wobbling “i’m gonna find it hard to forget, because i know that in that moment you meant it.”
matt goes silent,
“and i know that you’re busy but i try, so hard to make you and the girls happy, meaning that i don’t have free time to work because everything i do is for you?” i keep going, several tears now rolling down my cheeks
“so you saying that you should help our more around the house and pretending like everything’s perfect between us isn’t gonna fix shit.”
i physically can’t keep speaking unless i want to start sobbing so i stop, taking in a shaky breath.
matt doesn’t say anything back, instead sitting up and grabbing me and pulling me into a deathly tight hug.
the few tears that fell dampen the shoulder of his shirt as he rubs my back.
“i don’t even know how to apologise.” matt says, his voice trembling.
“please- don’t cry.” he whispers, “i’m just really tired” i squeeze out
“i know i’ve been a shit.. person for the past year or so and trust me, you and the girls are on my mind every single minute of every day and- and there’s no excuse for what i said yesterday except for the fact i wasn’t thinking straight.”
matt rambles
“i shouldn’t have yelled, or said anything. i know, i know you have it way harder than me, and i’m not just saying that it’s true.”
“you don’t have to forgive me at all today, tomorrow or in general for this but i love you and i’m so sorry.”
matt finishes by pulling away to look at my face, which he cups in both his hands.
“thank you.” is the only thing i reply with, somewhat shocked by that 2 minute long tangent.
matt lays back down on the matress, pulling me towards him. i lay my head down on his chest with a deep breath in, instantly falling asleep
————
9:56am the next day
the morning sun burns into the side of my face as i roll over in bed,
my eyebrows knit together when i realise matt’s not next to me like normal.
i sit up in bed, wiping my eyes as i attempt to run my fingers through my tangled hair.
i stumble out of bed towards the door of our bedroom, gripping the handle lazily and swinging it open.
the whole house is perfectly clean “what the fuck..” i mumble to myself as i walk into the living room where my eyes lay on my favourite sight
my 3 favourite people, matt claire and millie are sat on the sofa, matt’s in the middle and the girls are cuddled up to his side while matt holds open a picture book which he stops reading when i walk in.
“good morning pretty” matt smiles stupidly, i grow a small smile on my face.
“i think that someone has something to say to mom?” matt says, looking down at each of the girls.
they run up to me and wrap their arms around each of my legs “were really sorry” claire says, i bend down to their height and give them a smile
millie follows up with a “and i’m sorry for hurting you a- and i love you a lot!” she says with a cute smile.
“it’s okay sweetheart, i love you.” i grin, wrapping my arms around them before standing back up.
“and i’m gonna make it up to you tonight” matt says quietly while walking over to me
“matthew bernard! you horny mother fucker” i whisper.
————
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sturnmaee · 2 days
Text
ᡣ𐭩 Make It Up
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tags: bf!matt x fem!reader
warnings: smut, fem receiving, p in v, oral, use of baby, i lowkey forgot how to fucking tag .
summary: you and matt get in a fight so he decides to make it up to you ;)
word count: 1,250 (ish) words .
more under the cut
quick little a/n: i hope this is okay! i have been trying to write for so long — literal MONTHS — i’ve just been so unmotivated and busy!! i love you all so much. i was high asf while proofreading this omg.. i hope it’s not all bad .
The silence was deafening. Matt and I had just gotten into another pointless disagreement that left us both feeling shitty. All couples have their ups and downs sure, but Matt and I were arguing almost everyday now.
I don't blame him, he's been so caught up with his brothers and filming endlessly while I've been pent up in our small home.
The cold air hugs me tight as we sit on opposite sides of the couch, minding our business, neither of us daring to say a word. With the atmosphere being so quiet the sounds of a buzzing fridge fills my ear. Matt stares quietly at his phone trying to act preoccupied as I sit hugging myself and watching my own. I can see him in the corner of my eye wanting to say something, his mouth slightly moving.
"I," he says croakily before clearing his throat, "I'm sorry baby." he says his tone coated in guilt and regret.
I ignore him at first, before staring back at him with glossy doe eyes, a small, sad smile spreads across my face before I scoot closer to him on the couch. He stretches his right arm out inviting me into his chest.
As I lay my head on his warm chest he places a soft, loving kiss on my forehead, fixing my stray hairs with his gentle fingers, his other free hand making it's way shyly to my hip. I stare up at him as he watches down on me, my hand resting on his chest as my leg presses up against his lap.
"Let's not fight anymore," I whisper softly, "please."
"I promise, pretty girl." He replies in a reassuring, soothing voice, while stroking my hip before sneaking his hand under my shirt.
A trail of goosebumps follows the patterns of his fingertips on my skin, my hand cupping his stubble covered jaw as he takes my lips in passionately.
Matt pulls away with puffy lips before taking me in with his deep blue eyes, clouded with lust.
"Mmh, let me make it up to you." he says with an intoxicating voice before sinking back down on the couch to nip at the freckle on my neck.
He pulls away once again as I nod my head in response, the corners of his plump lips turning upwards. He holds my waist tight while fixing my position as he hops off the couch, kneeling down between my legs on the cold, wooden floor.
His fingertips toy with the material of my gray, baggy sweats, almost asking for permission,
“Is this okay baby?” he asks in the softest tone, his fingers hooked underneath my waist band.
I nod in response. The small gesture excites Matt and he tugs at my pants, pulling them down with my underwear, tossing them carelessly into a sad pile in the corner of the living room. My soft thighs now exposed as Matt takes in my legs with his lustful eyes.
He plants his warm hands on my thighs and he moves closer to my pulsing core. His tongue licks a long stripe up my slick while he holds eye contact, his fluffy hair sitting perfectly out of place. I gasp at his touch and my hand trails down to his hair, lightly tugging at it in response.
“Fuck Matt.” I moan softly while tipping my head back in pleasure.
He works his mouth at my sensitive clit, sucking, nipping, and licking so perfectly as he hums against me sending waves of sensation through my veins. One of his hands leaves my thigh, making its way closer to my wet pussy, he drags his slender fingers through my heat before pushing two fingers in softly.
His fingers curl perfectly inside of me, reaching places I never could on my own. I tighten my grip on his long hair as moans and mumbles spill from my lips, Matt continues to penetrate my walls and my swollen clit.
My legs shake, constricting around his head and he laughs against my pussy.
“Already close?” He says with fake sympathy while staring up at me with puffy, wet lips.
“Mmh s-so close.” I barely manage to reply with a full sentence, my back arching at the stimulation.
Matt moves away from my throbbing pussy, bringing his face closer to mine, my chest rising and falling rapidly as he presses the tent in his rough jeans against my burning clit. He hovers his lips over mine, breathing lightly.
"You taste so fuckin' good, baby." He groans against my lips before sinking into them, a light tang hitting my lips as his tongue explores my mouth.
"Matt.." I say softly, my tone drenched in lust and neediness.
My hands grips his belt, fiddling with it as i struggle to undo it. Matt laughs softly before standing up, swiftly undoing his belt and ripping it quickly out of the loops on his jeans, he tosses it to the pile of my clothes before kicking his jeans and boxers off.
"This what you want, hmm sweet girl?" He teases in a deep voice, his tip leaky and red, begging for touch. His hands make their way to the hem of my tee before ripping it over my head.
His eyes take in my bare chest, a smirk growing on his face.
"Such a bad girl, wearing nothing underneath just for me?" He says while positioning his tip at my entrance, his hand leading it through the puddle in core.
He pushes his length in, stretching me out immediately, letting a low moan out as he holds my hips supporting me, pulling me down onto his throbbing cock.
I let out a string of curses while moaning softly, my hands gripping the couch cushion for support. Matt picks up his pace, his thighs hitting mine as he penetrates my core. He lets out a quiet whimper, he icy blue eyes locked onto mine.
His hands grip my skin, tight enough to leave marks as he pushes deep inside of me. Matt lowers his head to meet mine his breath warm against my ear,
“I want you to cum for me baby,” he grunts, “leave a mess all over me.”
His words are ecstasy in my ear, he leaves a harsh kiss at my neck, my nails digging into his back as I feel myself getting closer.
“Oh God Matt.” I moan loudly.
Matt’s thrusts become sloppier, and I feel my orgasm creeping closer. My walls clamp down on his twitching cock the same way my fingers cling onto his bicep. Our moans and the sound of skin slapping bounces around the quiet room that now smells of sex.
I grip Matt tightly as my orgasm collapses over me, he thrusts harshly before spilling his warm cum into my walls.
“F-fuck.” He stutters though his gritted teeth before collapsing on top of me, my body jerking at the pleasure washing over me.
Matt kisses my lips softly while slowly pulling out and lying on the couch next to me, pulling the stray blanket over our sweaty bodies. He drags his fingers through the mixture of cum and saliva leaking from and pushes it into me, making me shake.
“No more fighting,” Matt says quietly, holding me tight, “I love you too much for that stupid shit.”
I giggle softly at his words while burying myself in his exposed chest, pressing a small kiss on his pale skin. I nod lightly, wrapping my leg around him and he squeezes me tightly.
this is actually the worst i’ve ever written 💀 i’m just tryna get back into write so bare wit me
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arieslost · 5 hours
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getting into a silly argument with lando just for him to pull the “oooh you wanna kiss me so bad right now it’s embarrassing” card and blah blah blah you can go where you want from there 😙
this was so cute, thank you for sending this in! i hope you like it <3
© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
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kiss me | ln4
you’re sure you’re seeing things.
you’re used to seeing fancy cars all the time now, what with having lived with your boyfriend in monaco for the better part of a year, but you’ve been able to keep track of said fancy cars. so you know when there’s a new one.
a new one in your parking garage, right next to lando’s 765lt. meaning it’s in your parking spot that had never once harbored a car until this morning. and now there’s another 765lt there. in your favorite color, no less.
“lando norris!” you yell out the moment you’re through the doorway to your shared apartment.
the deer in the headlights look on his face is priceless. you can practically see the cogs turning in his head as he tries to figure out what he could’ve possibly done to upset you.
“hi baby,” he says carefully, starting to step towards you when he’s stopped by you holding a hand up.
“no, you’re not going to sweet talk your way out of this one.”
he blinks at you a few times, watching as you take off your shoes and start pacing back and forth.
“did i forget something?” he chances, taking another step in your direction like he’s approaching a wild animal.
you glare at him. “forget something? like the car in the parking garage?”
“ohhhh,” it clicks then, and you watch, infuriated, as a smirk grows on his face.
“i don’t know why you’re smiling. how dare you?”
“how dare i?” he laughs, clearly entertained. “you’re always complementing my car. i figured you’d like one of your own.”
“so you just buy me a car?!”
he starts to admonish you, to try and sweet talk his way out of this, when he pauses. “you’re happy about this.”
“i most certainly am not,” you disagree instantly, immediately getting flashbacks to when you saw the car and became giddy at the mere possibility of it being yours.
“you most certainly are,” he argues, now approaching you with ease.
“get away from me, norris,” you threaten weakly, stepping back with every step he takes towards you.
“i don’t think i will,” he shrugs, grabbing your wrist gently and tugging you into his body, and you can’t resist his embrace. “i think you’re so overcome with excitement that it’s manifesting as something else entirely.”
“it’s a car, lando. how many times have i told you that i don’t need these kinds of things?” you narrow your eyes at him, resting your chin against his chest.
“i know you don’t need them, pretty,” he sighs, kissing your forehead. “but i really wanted to get it for you. you’ll look so sexy driving it.”
you roll your eyes, pushing away from him. “i hate you so much.”
“you looove me,” he coos, following you as you walk into your bedroom.
“go away. i’m mad at you.”
“are you?” he asks, leaning against the doorway as you pull out loungewear to change into.
you glare at him again, hating how good he looks just standing there looking at you.
“i knew it. you wanna kiss me,” he states, like it’s obvious.
“what? i don’t think so,” you respond, turning your back on him as you change.
“i do. you gave me that look. you know the one.”
“i have no idea what you’re talking about.” you pull your shirt over your head and reach for a hair tie on your nightstand, just to give yourself something extra to do so you don’t have to look at him a little longer, otherwise your indignant mindset will crack.
“you wanna kiss me so bad,” he teases.
“no thanks.”
“you wanna kiss me so bad it’s embarrassing. you can’t even look at me.” he points out, and damn him for it.
you look at him. and promptly blush the moment you meet his eyes.
“i knew it,” he sings triumphantly, waltzing over to where you stand fiddling with your hair tie.
“i’m mad at you,” you reiterate.
“fine. you’re mad. i’m sorry, but i can’t return the car. well, i could. but i’m not going to. kiss me.”
“you’re insufferable,” you whine, once again relenting when he gets his arms around your waist.
“and you want to kiss me, so just do it.” he squeezes his eyes shut and puckers his lips cutely, and, well, what else are you supposed to do but kiss him?
he hums happily against your lips, gently stroking your hair even when you part. “can i braid it for you?”
you want to argue with him and tell him to stop being cute, but you’ve never be able to resist him.
“thank you for the car, lan,” you mumble as he sets to his task. “i love it.”
“what do you love more, me or the car?”
“the car, obviously.”
he gives your hair a playful tug, and you giggle, reaching back to pinch his hip.
“i’ll keep this in mind for next time.”
“next time?!” you make eye contact with him in the mirror next to your nightstand, and he just smiles innocently in the way that never fails to make you melt.
damn him.
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word count: 860
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note: wishing my f1 driver boyfriend buying me a mclaren 765lt was my biggest life problem rn. also i finished writing this like 20 mins before posting so if there’s anything wrong pls tell me
requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation!
reblogs are greatly appreciated <33
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ellecdc · 1 day
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Hiii :) I saw your requests tips and saw that you didn't write for dub/non con and I don't know if this count as one so just feel free to not respond!
So reader is in a relationship with the Marauders and is starting to randomly think about a past SA and realise this was SA only now bc her brain has been blocking the memory and information. She tells the boys (and maybe Barty idk) about it after sometime of overthinking it and self blaming so it's just like super fluff at the end <3
(it's my personal experience but if you don't feel comfortable writing about it just feel free to ignore it :). Sorry for the bad orthograph english isn't my first language 🫶🏻)
first of all - your English is fucking fantastic (and you know more words than I do - I had to look up what an orthograph was) secondly, I turned this into more of a conversation between reader and her ship. and for plot purposes this became poly!wolfstar - hope that's okay!
poly!wolfstar x fem!reader who opens up about past SA
CW: discusses themes of sexual consent, inebriation, and SA. Describes past SA and abusive relationships. Describes drunkeness, alcohol, and drinking. viewer discretion is advised.
You could tell it was taking Sirius a lot of effort to appear to be too fussed over Lily, James, and Regulus at the end of the party, but he pretended to gag every time anything even remotely romantic or sexual was brought up about his brother.
“What do you think happens when they go home, Pads?” Remus muttered quietly, causing Sirius to slap his hands against his ears.
“Would you shut up, Moons? I am not interested in hearing about my brother’s sexual habits, thank you.”
Unfortunately for Sirius, Lily didn’t get the memo. 
“Are we le-leaving!?” She shrieked through a hiccup as James held most of her weight up against his side and Regulus gathered her purse and shoes she’d since lost.
“Yes sweets; we’re gonna get you to bed.” James said quietly.
A salacious smirk took over Lily’s face as she tried (and failed) to grab James by the chin. “To bed, hm?”
Regulus snorted, though no one missed the blush that dusted his cheeks. “To sleep, Lils.”
Lily groaned dramatically and seemed to go ‘no bones’ in James' grip as he grunted and tried to keep her from hitting the ground. “Why not.”
“Because you smell like you bathed in a bottle of schnapps, sweetheart.” James placated.
“So?” Lily grumbled though acquiesced to helping James keep her up right. “We can even do that thing you like.” She tried to sing sensually, but her efforts were in vain as every other word came out slurred. 
Sirius grumbled causing James to blush. 
“Not tonight, angel. We’ll cuddle, okay?”
Lily scoffed and turned her sights onto Regulus. “You agree with me, right? Right Reggie? You agree- you agree with me?”
“Almost always.” Regulus agreed quickly, offering Lily his arm as to share her weight with James. “Just not tonight, my love.”
“You guys are no fun.” Lily whined as she allowed her two boyfriends to usher her out of Remus and Sirius’ shared flat.
Unfortunately for Sirius, no one missed Regulus leaning into Lily’s hair and promising that “they’d have lots of fun tomorrow to make up for it.”
“I hate them all.” Sirius grumbled with no real malice as he stood and made his way over to you before offering you both of his hands. “What do you say, dollface? Ready for bed too?”
Remus answered ‘yes’ as you accepted Sirius’ help up which sparked a debate between the two of them whether or not Remus could be considered ‘dollface’ to which you secretly agreed that yes he could but ultimately refused to participate in such nonsense.
You got ready for bed in a haze as you replayed Regulus, James, and Lily’s conversation in your head. You weren’t sure what exactly you were so stuck on, but something about the exchange caused something deep within your gut to churn unpleasantly. 
“You feeling alright, dovey?” Remus asked gently, pressing a kiss to your hairline as you reentered their bedroom after washing your face, carrying your toiletries with you so as not to hog the bathroom.
Sirius (and Remus) had been begging you to spend your nights here with them nearly since the very beginning of your relationship, but you argued that you did not want to pay rent for a flat you never saw. 
He then started nagging you to give up the lease on your flat and just “sodding move in with them already”, but it still felt a little too fresh for that.
So, you spent most nights (but not all) at their flat; living out of duffle bags and toiletry bags.
You hummed in confirmation to Remus’ question, moving towards the mirror above Sirius’ dresser to finish your skincare routine as Remus took his turn with the washroom.
“You sure, sweetness? You’ve been awfully quiet tonight; did you have fun?” Sirius continued as he went digging through what you knew to be Remus’ drawers searching for Sirius’ favourite shirt which was really Remus’ shirt but no one bothered to argue with the black-haired boy…anymore.
“I had fun.” You agreed, massaging product into your face.
“Uh huh.” Sirius commented, not sounding at all convinced as he came up behind you and hooked his chin over your shoulder; watching as you completed your nightly routine through the mirror. “You had so much fun and that’s why you look like Moony when he can’t figure out one of those crosswords in the Daily Prophet?”
You chuckled softly, but something in your lack of enthusiasm (or your lack of disdain) for his joke seemed to tip him off. 
“What’s going on in here, hm?” He asked as he pressed a kiss to your temple. 
“I just…” You started, sighing as you made yourself busy by tidying up your belongings and refusing to make eye contact with him. “I’ve just been thinking about Reg, James, and Lily’s conversation.”
That caused a dramatic groan to rip through Sirius’ chest as he leaned his forehead against your shoulder.
“What now?” Remus asked jokingly as he returned from the washroom. 
“She’s thinking about Regulus, James, and Lily in bed.” Sirius accused; voice muffled in the fabric of your sleepwear. 
You scoffed defensively, claiming you were “absolutely not” at the same time Remus commented “aren’t we all” which started a very loud bickering match between your two boyfriends. 
The arguing only ceased when Remus “swore on his mother’s life” that Sirius was “by far the superior Black brother.” 
Placated, Sirius turned his sights back to you as you sat on the edge of the bed. “So, what were you really thinking about their conversation?”
Remus, having walked in with only enough time to rile Sirius up, popped his head up at that. “Everything alright, dove?”
You sighed as you turned to face them. “I was just confused, I guess.” You admitted. “I think…Lily was hoping to have sex tonight?”
Sirius groaned again which earned him a swat from Remus who seemed to pick up on some of the tension radiating through your body.
“Yes…I’d agree.” Remus responded carefully.
“And Reg and James said no?”
Sirius’ head tilted at that as he considered you with furrowed brows. “Well, of course, doll. She was drunk.” He said simply, as if that explained it all. 
“So…they wouldn’t have sex with her because she was drunk?” You clarified.
The boys shared a glance with one another before they each took a seat on the bed, prompting you to turn your body so you were all facing each other.
“So, all parties have to be able to consent, right?” Remus started. 
You nodded quickly at that. 
“But when one party is inebriated or under the influence, they can’t consent.” Sirius continued.
You felt your eyebrows twitch as you looked down at the pattern on your bed spread. “Even though she was asking?”
“She wasn’t in her right mind, dove.” Remus explained gently; eyes full of compassion and, perhaps, some sadness. “She may have woken up tomorrow and not remembered anything, or perhaps worse, regretted something. It’s Regulus and James’ jobs to keep her safe, just like I’m sure she keeps them safe when the roles are reversed.”
And now you could understand why their conversation seemed to catch you so off guard. 
“You’re so pretty like this; drunk and all mine.”
“Have a few more; we always have more fun when you let loose.”
“But…I’m really tired.” “All you’ve got to do is lay there - I’ll do all the work.”
“You don’t remember last night? That’s too bad; I won’t be forgetting that any time soon.”
“You’re such a good little whore for me when you’ve had a few too many.” 
You hadn’t realised you had zoned out of the conversation until Sirius was leaning into your field of vision. “You okay, sweets?”
“Yeah.” You said breathlessly before clearing your throat. “No, sorry. I’m fine.”
“Why were you asking?” Remus queried; tone hardening slightly, alerting you to the fact that he smelled trouble. 
“I was just wondering.” You fibbed.
“You know we would do the same, right?” Sirius asked earnestly. “That we have done the same for you.”
“You have?”
“Yes, my love.” Remus whispered. “Always.”
You nodded and looked back down at the bedspread. “Okay.”
“Y/N.” Sirius called with a certain level of severity; though you detected no anger or frustration in his tone. “Why were you asking?” He repeated Remus’ earlier question after your gaze met his imploring silver eyes. 
You quickly looked down at your hands as you began picking at the hangnails around your fingers. “I was just confused; that has not always been my experience.” You admitted quietly; shame coursing through your body as you digested this new information.
The room was quiet for a moment as Remus shuffled scrupulously closer to you. “No?” He whispered; voice intoned with a level of gentleness you weren’t accustomed to hearing. 
You began to feel all sorts of discomfort at the heavy attention being focused on you in the room. “It was usually quite the opposite.” You joked; voice rising to a higher octave in an attempt to make light of the situation as you pulled back the covers and made to retreat to the relative safety of the boys’ bed. 
“Whoa, whoa. What does that mean?” Sirius implored, earning him a gentle warning “Pads” from Remus.
“I’m sorry.” You placated, still uncomfortable with this heavy atmosphere you seem to have blanketed over what had been a really nice evening. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“No, I-” Sirius began, cutting himself off and taking a breath you could tell was an attempt to calm himself down. He shuffled closer to you and wrapped his hand around one of your ankles through the blanket as he rubbed soothing circles against it. “You can always talk about anything with us; it’s important that we talk about these things, yeah?”
“Only if you’re comfortable, of course.” Remus mollified. “But I do agree with Sirius; if you’re comfortable, I think it’s good for us to talk about these things.” 
“It was just my last relationship.” You admitted finally. “He didn’t…agree - with the consent thing, that is.”
Remus’ lips pursed as Sirius’ jaw tightened. 
“He’d sleep with you when you were drunk?” Remus asked cautiously. 
“Yeah.” You agreed half-heartedly, picking at your nail beds. “Or encourage me to drink more so…”
Remus let out a sigh and you could tell Sirius was fighting back the urge to grumble. 
“I’m sorry,” You offered again. “I really didn’t mean to bring all this up, I just-”
“I really, really don’t want you to apologise anymore.” Sirius nearly begged. 
“I don’t understand how someone could do that.” Remus mused aloud. “To anyone; and someone they claimed to love?”
You mistook Remus’ rhetorical question for an actual need for clarification. “He said I was more fun; that I’d try things I wouldn’t normally.”
Sirius did finally let out an angry huff and his fingers stilled on your ankle. “Who?”
“You don’t know him.” You countered quickly, bringing your knees up to your chest and wrapping your arms around them as you rested your chin on your knees. 
“Lucky him.” Sirius muttered darkly as Remus shifted closer to you. 
“I’m sorry dove.” He offered quietly; holding out his hand to you in a silent invitation. You accepted it, and as you gave him your hand, he gently encouraged you over to him until you were cradled in his arms.
“I didn’t tell you to be sorry.” You murmured quietly as Remus began pressing kisses to the raw and reddened skin around your fingers you hadn’t realised you had nearly shredded in your tension. 
“I know you didn’t.” He whispered. “I’m still sorry, anyhow.”
“I think it’s nice… that the boys were looking after Lily.”
Remus hummed in agreement though he still looked particularly disturbed.  
“That’s their job.” Sirius supplied, causing you and Remus to turn your heads towards your boyfriend whose eyes were red and shining with unshed tears.
“Sirius.” You murmured miserably.
“Just like it’s our job to look after you.” He continued as if you hadn’t said anything at all.
“And you do.” You agreed.
Sirius huffed and wiped at his face. “I hate to think of you being hurt or…or taken advantage of when I wasn’t there to help you.”
Remus made a pitiful sound at that. 
“You didn’t even know me then, Siri.” You offered, half teasing and half placating. 
“She’s alright, Sirius.” Remus comforted. “She’s got us. You’ll be okay now, yeah?”
And you thought of your boys now; you thought of Sirius near tears thinking of someone taking advantage of you during a time you hadn’t even known him, you thought of Remus currently cradling you like you were a precious thing he feared losing if he didn’t hold you with the utmost care, and you thought of their friends - the kind of people who they surrounded themselves with and had the same morals as they did.
Yeah…you think you might just be okay now.
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yoursweetwife · 3 days
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Did you know that...
warnings: female reader, fluff, mention of Aventurine, Aventurine (a separate warning for him), display of affection, attempt at flirting
Synopsis: Ratio's attempt to surprise you didn't go as planned.
p.s. I don't like writing dialogues, but this idea seemed too interesting to me
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"[Name]."
You shuddered in surprise and looked up from the papers you had been looking through for the last hour. Your gaze fell on Ratio, standing not far from you. The serious gaze did not waver, even when you smiled at him.
“Oh, Veritas, I didn’t notice you came, I’m sorry. How are you doing?”
You smiled awkwardly and clutched the paper, your heart still racing from fear. For a split second, a guilty expression appeared on his face, but it quickly gave way to a thoughtful one, as if he was deciding on something.
Ratio began to slowly approach the sofa where you were sitting. Sweat formed on your face due to the uncharacteristic silence coming from your lover.
"Veritas? Is everything okay?"
You asked worriedly, tilting your head, and if he didn’t know how to control himself, he would definitely have smiled. Eons, you were too sweet.
Ratio grinned and leaned towards your face, one of his arms resting on the back of the couch, allowing his body to completely cover you in shadow. You felt like your face was burning right now, this situation was very strange, but you couldn't deny that you were enjoying it. There was a beautiful view of his muscular body and arms, and the warmth emanating from his body made you squirm in place in anticipation...
"Did you know that penguins find a partner for life??"
You were silent for a few seconds, trying to process the question. If he saw the look of complete shock on your face, he definitely just ignored it. He still had a smirk on his face, apparently taking this as his cue to continue.
"Will you be my penguin?"
"Pen-penguin...Pfft"
You quickly covered your mouth with your hand and turned away from Ratio to contain your uncontrollable laughter. Veritas looked at you incredulously, this was all contrary to his original plan!
He watched as you held your stomach, your red face was visible even through the veil of hair, and snatches of loud laughter somehow slipped out, making Ratio feel like an idiot.
"That's the last reaction I expected to see from you."
Ratio furrowed his eyebrows in irritation and crossed his arms over his chest.
You finally took control of your will, quickly stood up and took his hand, preventing Veritas from leaving.
"Sorry, sorry."
You spoke quietly, still recovering your breath from the sensation of laughter.
"It was just so unexpected, were you... trying to flirt?"
You smiled cheerfully, making Veritas’s heart beat faster. Oh, he could have sworn the room was getting hot.
"Veritas, don't turn away!"
You stood on your tiptoes and took Ratio's face in your hands. He sighed irritably, what a pity that his mask is not with him now. He cleared his throat and looked at you, immediately noticing the happy smile on your face.
"I read that flirting helps make a relationship more 'romantic'. I thought you'd like it since I often see you reading romantic nonsense."
You couldn't help but blush when you heard Veritas' words, and your awestruck gaze didn't go unnoticed, making him feel a strange sense of pride.
"You did this for me! Ooh that's so cute..."
Your arms wrapped around Ratio's neck, pressing your bodies together. The scientist's hands found your waist and he had to lean down so you could kiss his cheek. But immediately one question popped into your head.
"But why did you decide to choose this..."
You were too curious as to why he decided to choose this particular line. An irritated grimace appeared on his face, he rubbed the bridge of his nose, which at least helped to hide his embarrassment.
"Perhaps I asked Aventurine for help."
Well, those words said it all. You put your hand over your mouth to hide your smile, and your man seemed to notice. He ran his hand through his hair, mentally cursing the blond.
“This gambler, I immediately found his enthusiasm suspicious.”
Aventurine’s smug face immediately appeared in his mind. He slowly twirls the glass of champagne in his hand, deftly leaning over his colleague's shoulder.
“What's this here? I never thought I'd see a seduction guide in your hands, have you really decided to be a romantic for the first time in your life. Haha, you’re lucky, my friend, I’m an expert in this matter.”
You quickly took his hand and squeezed it softly. A quiet laugh escaped your lips, having a sedative effect on Veritas.
“Just don’t kill Aventurine, I still have to play cards with him.”
"Don't expect me to let him get close to you at all after this."
Veritas sat down on the couch, crossing his legs, and you immediately followed him, clinging to his side and resting your chin on his broad shoulder.
"Don't be mad, his idea actually worked." He instantly perked up and looked at you incredulously.
"Really?"
You pulled his face down with one hand, kissing his cheek passionately, practically squeezing both sides of his face.
"Of course. But did he advise you anything else?"
Ratio instantly reached into his pocket and pulled out a notebook.
"Thirty lines, however, I would prefer to forget about this situation and return to our normal routine, but if you are wondering.."
"That's right!"
You said loudly and snatched the book, scaring Veritas with a sudden movement. The only thing you wanted now was to relax in the arms of your loved one, and not look at the list of phrases taken by Aventurine on some forum, although knowing him, he could come up with them himself. You can discuss this with blonde a little later.
"How about a shared bath?"
Your proposal was met with a quiet chuckle, but his gaze immediately softened, relax in hot water next to you? He wouldn't refuse.
"Sounds great."
You may have stopped a murder today.
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⋆ 𝓙𝓪𝓶𝓲𝓵 𝓥𝓲𝓹𝓮𝓻: 𝓐 𝓙𝓮𝓪𝓵𝓸𝓾𝓼 𝓣𝓼𝓾𝓶 ⋆
I wrote this for an OC of mine, but changed it to be a x Reader so that I could post it! Enjoy! ♡
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⋆ It's scary how similar they are, you couldn't help but think, feeling a pair of eyes on you.
You're sitting in the lounge of Scarabia, playing with Kalim's tsum. Jamil's tsum sits a few feet away, watching you intensely. Kalim had an emergency club meeting to attend, the Pop Music Club's concert having been rescheduled to be sooner. The members were left scrambling to practice with the short deadline. Since Jamil had his duties to attend to, you offered to watch their tsums for them, Kalim thanking you and saying goodbye to his tsum before rushing off.
⋆ Jamil was more reluctant, hesitating for a moment before allowing it with a sigh. Him and his tsum locked eyes, staring at each other. They stayed that way for a minute, having a silent conversation before he left down the hall. Since they left, all Jamil's tsum did was stare at you, keeping his distance. It reminded you so much of Jamil, how he always seemed to watch you for some reason, never really approaching. It made you nervous, looking back every once in a while to see if the tsum was still there.
⋆ You weren't sure why it put you on edge, much like how Jamil's staring would. Perhaps it's because you're unsure what you did wrong, looking back again to see the tsum behind you, watching you still. You took a deep breath, doing your best to focus on Kalim's tsum. He was a little bundle of energy, never seeming to keep still as he bounced about happily. Watching him made you smile, laughing as you played. A chill ran up your spine as you felt Jamil tsum's stare, turning to see the tsum was looking at you much more intensely. It almost seemed like he was glaring at you, making you turn back to Kalim's tsum with a frown.
⋆ The happy tsum seemed to notice the change in your mood, laying himself in your lap as a way to comfort you. You looked down at the tsum, his eyes looking back at you as if asking if you were alright. A small smile came to your face, petting the top of his head. He was so cute, and reminded you so much of Kalim. You looked back to check on Jamil's tsum, doing a double take when you realized he wasn't there. You started looking around the room, trying to see where the tsum could have gone to and doing your best not to panic.
⋆ Right as you were about to get up and start searching the halls, Jamil's tsum appeared, carrying something on his back. As he got closer you realized it was a plate of fruit, the tsum sitting it down in front of you. You stared at the tsum in confusion as he nudged the plate, as if telling you to eat. You pick up a grape, realizing you were hungrier than you thought. Your chest grows warm as you eat the fruit, realizing the tsum had noticed you hadn't eaten in a while.
⋆ You turn to look at him with a shy smile, petting the tsum's head as you thank him. The tsum seems pleased by this, soaking in your touch. After a moment, Kalim's tsum hops in your lap, clearly wanting some attention too. You laugh at his antics, moving to pet his head instead. You feel Jamil's tsum staring again, just as intense as before. You turn to the tsum, wondering what was wrong. As you gaze at the tsum you realize his stare wasn't directed at you, following his line of sight to the tsum in your lap.
⋆ It takes a moment before it clicks, with you apologizing to Jamil's tsum and shifting your attention back to him.
"Ah, sorry! Did you want to sit in my lap too?"
Jamil's tsum seemed embarrassed at being caught, but didn't deny your offer, moving to lay next to Kalim's tsum. Though he didn't seem happy with sharing, pushing the other tsum out of your lap when you weren't looking. Kalim's tsum bounced back up a moment later, choosing to sit on your shoulder instead.
⋆ Jamil was done with his tasks for the day, heading back to the dorm lounge to check on you. He hopes Kalim's tsum didn't give you too much trouble, figuring his own wouldn't do much. If anything, perhaps his tsum helped you keep Kalim's in check. When he got to the doorway of the lounge he froze, taking in the sight before him. You sat on the floor, Kalim's tsum sitting on your shoulder while his own rests in your lap. You had a small smile on your face as you looked down at the tsum, petting his head. His tsum was clearly pleased with the attention, looking smug when he noticed Jamil in the doorway. Jamil couldn't help but cross his arms, shooting his tsum a look.
⋆ What he wasn't prepared for was you picking his tsum up from your lap, lifting the tsum close to your face as you eyed him affectionately.
"You really do look like Jamil! Same hair, same clothes. It's so cute!"
You press a gentle kiss to his tsum's forehead, setting him back in your lap afterwards. The sight causes his heart to pound in his chest, feeling flustered as he turns around. He'll come back later, after he's calmed down ♡
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I might post the original one I wrote featuring my OC one day, but for now...
𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾! ♡
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nereidprinc3ss · 8 hours
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do you believe me now? | 4
in which spencer reid and inexperienced fem!reader are interrupted at the most inopportune of times. he calls you on the first night of his case. dirty talk turns into a hard conversation. we get a glimpse into spencer's past, and we finally learn why he's so hesitant to sleep with you.
part one | part two | bonus chapter | part three
18+ (smut) warnings/tags: dirty talk, phone sex/mutual masturbation, softdom!spence, obligatory he talks u through it, lots of graphic discussions of sex, established relationship, angst (sorrryyy!) a/n: so remember how i said you'd need the bonus chapter to fully appreciate/understand this part? i was wrong!! it will come in handy probably in the next part tho:) also idk how these parts keep getting so long im sorry! anyway, i love you all so bad. thank you for bearing w/ my craziness. PLEASE let me know your thoughts on this part!! i adore hearing from you!! kisses
(also special thank you to @fliesforeyes who convinced me phone sex w/ spence could be done!! i will link his phone sex blurb here :)) thank u binx!!
“Three million six hundred eighty four thousand three hundred thirty two times fourteen million seven hundred sixty one thousand nine hundred seventy one.”
You’ve lost count of how many stupid math questions you’ve asked your human calculator boyfriend, just to see if he can actually do them. Spencer is silent for a second, and you think you’ve finally stumped him. 
“That one is complicated.”
You sit bolt upright in his bed, looking down at him and pointing an accusatory finger. His brows raise at the manic look in your eye. 
“You don’t know.”
“I do know. I meant it would be hard to explain if you aren’t a math person.”
“Bullshit!” You scoff, “you don’t know!”
“It would display on a calculator as five-point-three-eight-eight-E-thirteen. It’s a really big number.”
“Oh, really big, huh?” you mumble, searching for your phone blindly in the sheets and scrambling to open the calculator app. “Um… what numbers did I say?”
Spencer repeats them back to you and you press the equals sign. 
You look at it. 
And then you set your phone down. 
“I was right, huh?” he smiles up at you, probably reveling in your pouty wrongness. 
Too proud to admit it, you collapse on top of him, burying your face in his shoulder. 
“I don’t like this game anymore. What the fuck even is an e? Why are we doing algebra?”
Spencer laughs, brushing your hair aside. 
“The e stands for exponent. It’s to the power of ten.”
“Ever heard of a rhetorical question?”
“Yes, I have.”
It’s hard not to snort even at his dumbest jokes. 
“You’re annoying. Let’s do something else.”
You roll over onto your back again, letting your head flop over to look at Spencer, whose hair is exactly the right amount of messy after a long day, falling in impossibly soft waves over the perfect lines and contours of his face. Despite lounging, he’s still in his suit from work—he’d left Quantico and immediately picked you up. There were no solid plans for the evening, so after both of you pretended that you wanted to go out for a while, you ended up back at his apartment. 
He looks good. Almost too good. 
“Something like what?” he smiles lazily, reaching over and tracing his fingers over your cheek. 
“Something… naked?”
His grin widens and he shakes his head. 
“Me naked or you naked?”
Pretending to think about it, you roll your bottom lip between your teeth. 
“Mm… why not both?”
“Hm. Why do I feel like I know where this is going?”
The mattress sinks underneath your elbow as you prop yourself up, dropping your head over Spencer’s to kiss him. 
“Because you’re so smart, and you think it’s a great idea.”
He entertains your kiss for a moment. Just a moment.
“You sound sure of yourself.”
“Because I am!” You finally give in to your impulses, tangling your fingers in his hair and looking at him meaningfully. “It doesn’t make any sense for us to have not had sex. I don’t care about any of your weird, cryptic moral reasoning.”
He grabs your wrist carefully. 
“It is not moral,” he scoffs. “We haven’t even talked about it yet.”
“Really? Because I feel like we’ve talked about it a lot.” 
He begins to reply, but you realize you don’t want to get into a debate over whether you’ve technically talked about it yet. “I don’t even care! If that’s all that’s standing in your way, then let’s talk about it. Right now.”
Spencer sighs, his eyes darting between yours as he reaches up to cradle your cheek. 
“Fine. But I have things to say you’re not going to like.”
“So business as usual?”
He rolls his eyes. You allow yourself a tiny self-satisfied smirk, forever relishing in his poorly-hidden soft spot for your constant teasing. Spencer ignores this. Which is probably for the best. 
“I know you probably won’t see it this way, but—sex is different than everything else we’ve done so far. It can be really fun, obviously it feels good, it facilitates deeper feelings of connection—that’s all true. Which is why, in my opinion, it’s incredibly important that you be selective with who you sleep with. Because it’s so easy to do something you regret, and sex is vulnerable. It should always be with someone you trust and—and… care about.”
A pink flush stains his cheeks like watercolor as he stumbles over the last few words. It makes your heart flutter against the confines of your chest.
Maybe best not to think about the absence versus presence of certain four-letter words and what they may or may not mean. You’ll move on to more pressing matters and pretend like it doesn’t ache just a little in your whole body. 
You cover his hand with your own. 
“Are you going to break up with me anytime soon?”
Spencer’s eyes widen, filling with genuine horror and confusion. 
“What? No!”
“Are you going to cheat on me?”
“Absolutely not, I—”
“Then I’m not going to regret it. Issue resolved. Moving on.”
“Honey, I just want you to be 100% sure that I’m what you want.”
“Oh my god,” you groan, flopping onto your back once more. “I have begged you to sleep with me on multiple occasions. We have been dating for months and I liked you even longer before that. I think about it literally every time I see you. I don’t know how to be any surer.”
It’s quiet for a moment as you study the imaginary pattern on the ceiling. The rebuttal you’d been anticipating doesn’t come—instead, the mattress shifts next to you. Spencer enters your field of vision, now leaning over you with a little smile on his face that gives you butterflies. 
“Every time?”
“…yes, every time,” you agree, voice considerably thinner than it had been a moment ago. Spencer glances at your lips as he speaks. 
“Interesting. And what is it that you think about exactly?”
You groan again, attempting to roll facedown, but he pins your shoulder to the bed. The way he’s sweetly kissing down your cheek and jaw is infuriating because you know it’s a false pretense. 
“Ugh, I don’t know! Don’t make me answer that!”
“You said if talking about it was all that was standing in my way, we would talk about it. Now I want to talk about it. Come on,” he says, voice low and cloying against your throat as he attempts to tease the answer out of you. “Tell me what you think about when you think about us having sex.”
You let out a shaky breath at the feeling of his lips skimming your neck, hating how easily he can reduce you to this. 
“I… I always wonder what it will feel like. Sometimes I wonder if it will hurt.”
Spencer sighs, interrogation by way of seduction momentarily forgotten. You silently curse yourself for saying something so un-sexy. 
“It might, sweetheart. That’s one of the reasons we’ve held back. I… really don’t want to hurt you. I don’t even know if I can.”
You grab his face in both hands, forcing him to look at you with more confidence than you feel. 
“Sometimes I worry about it, too. But I like you a lot more than it scares me. I still want to.”
He kisses your palm. 
“You’ll be okay. It doesn’t hurt for everyone, and even if it does, you’re resilient.”
“Exactly. So you have to get over yourself.”
Spencer laughs like he wasn’t expecting to, eyes sparkling as he regards you.  
“Yeah. Yeah, maybe I do.”
He’s smiling again as he leans down and kisses you—a slow, lingering thing which tastes like spearmint as you part your lips for him. 
“Please?” you whisper against him after a long moment. He hums, keeps kissing you. 
“What is it that you think you want? You don’t even know what you’re asking for.”
“Tell me,” you beg, chasing his lips. “Tell me what you’re going to do with me. We can talk about it. This is talking about it.”
Spencer exhales deeply, wedging a thigh between yours. Immediately you clamp around it, trying not to grind against him too overtly. 
“You want to know what I’d do to you?”
“Yes—” you paw at his jacket. Surprisingly, he doesn’t stop you from pushing it off. Your heart pounds. 
“Well… we both know how anxious you get,” he muses, pressing his lips so delicately to your fluttering pulse-point in emphasis, and then back to your mouth. His thigh pushes harder against you to supplant the absence of his lips as he speaks, though he kisses you sporadically and between sentences. “You’re hard to get out of your head when you’re nervous, you know that? I watch it happen. One minute you’re with me, and then you start overthinking, and getting self-conscious. The only thing that seems to relax you is letting me touch you—so first I would touch you like I’ve touched you before. I’d make sure you know how pretty you are and how good you deserve to feel.” You whimper inadvertently at his words, arching into him and grinding against his leg as he pauses to kiss the sensitive soft spot below your jaw. “You’re going to need to be really ready to let me in. Do you know what I mean by that?”
As he asks, he pushes his thigh against you harder. Your body responds immediately, arching into him and seeking more friction. When you squeak, he takes it as a no. 
“I mean I need you relaxed and wet. You’ll excuse my crude language.”
You pull at his tie, breathing heavier now and so turned on it’s almost painful. 
“What are you gonna do after that?”
“What else is there to do but fuck you after that?” he breathes. “You want me to tell you how I’d fuck you?”
Something about it makes you whine salaciously. You’ve heard him curse—you’ve even heard him talk about fucking you. But it feels more real now; when it’s low in your ear and you’re covertly undressing him and he’s pushing your shirt over your stomach promisingly. 
“Yes, please.” 
He hums against your jaw, nipping and brushing his lips over the skin as he considers. Leaves you waiting. 
“I would have to take my time with you. You’ll be overwhelmed. I know you think you won’t, but you will. I’m going to have to be so, so careful with you, angel. It’s going to drive me insane. But it will feel good for you.”
“Why careful? I don’t want that.”
He chuckles. A chill runs down your spine. 
“Yeah, you do. You’re going to want me to be careful when I’m—” he pauses, pressing his thumb to your bare lower tummy and dragging up to a spot below your belly button. He presses down lightly again. “Right here. Approximately.”
The surface of the sun has nothing on the temperature of your skin in this moment, as you writhe underneath him in both arousal and embarrassment. Mostly, burning need. You feel almost sick with it. 
“Please don’t make me wait anymore. Just do it, please, Spencer. I need it to be you, I don’t want it to be anyone else. I promise I’m ready.”
It’s silent for a moment. Your heart quickens. You sense his walls wearing away, his instinct to keep you intact for god knows what reason crumbling. He’s finally going to give you what you’ve been begging for. 
Spencer opens his mouth, eyes glimmering—
And then his phone rings. 
You both freeze—he melts dejectedly before you do, more accustomed to an ill-timed phone call and realizing the finality it can present. 
He’s breathing heavily against your neck, as if maybe whoever it is will just hang up. But the phone keeps ringing. 
“I’m sorry.”
Your stomach sinks as he sits up, grabbing his phone from the side table and rubbing circles on your inner thigh as he answers.
“This is Reid,” he says, lackluster. 
If you wanted, you could hear what Penelope is saying—but you don’t bother listening. It’s going to be a case. Spencer is about to leave. The details are his problem. 
“Okay. I’ll be there in an hour.”
He hangs up, tossing the phone onto the mattress and not speaking for a moment, just continuing to rub your leg apologetically. Watching you almost mournfully—taking in your disheveled hair, your likely blown-out pupils, the shirt pushed almost over your chest. 
“I have to go right now,” he finally manages with a heavy sigh, gently pulling your shirt back into place. 
You sit up, shedding all the hopes that had been building for the evening, and try to sound chipper—though all you feel is bitter disappointment that goes deeper than you understand. 
“I know. Go ahead, I can get a cab home.”
He frowns, running his hand over the back of your hair. 
“I don’t love the idea of you standing on the sidewalk waiting for a car in this part of town so late. Do you just want to stay here for the night and go home tomorrow?”
You force a smile. Great. So you’ll be spending the night in his bed after all—just without him. 
“Sure. Thanks.”
“Yeah.”
Neither of you are feeling particularly grateful. 
Soon you’re walking him to his own door. Both of you come to a stop in front. 
“I’m sorry,” he sighs again. 
“Spencer, it’s fine. It’s your job. You don’t need to apologize. You were very clear about this part when we started dating.”
“I know, but… it’s easier in theory than in practice.”
You smile. If Spencer is a reflection of you, it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. His hair is still messy from your fingers running through it and he’s missing his tie. You hope all his coworkers see and feel bad about taking him away from you. 
But it’s not their fault. You just want someone to blame. 
Instead you mould yourself to his body, wrapping around him like you belong there. He returns your embrace, pressing his lips into the crook of your shoulder and rubbing your back in that way he always does with you. 
In that moment, your affection for him becomes so profound it’s like a chemical reaction—everywhere he touches burns and you love him so fucking much it aches in every inch of your body the way your muscles do when you have a bad fever. Love is the most terrible of afflictions, you realize. It is a fever dream. It’s every fiber of your being screaming to tell him how you feel, to beg him on your knees not to go because you love him like a child loves a parent or a bee loves honeysuckle or the ocean loves the horizon. Pared down to your most basic components, the barest version of yourself, you require him. Your soul needs his soul. 
“Spencer?”
“Hm?” 
It’s nothing more than an absentminded hum against your skin. 
“I…”
Should you be looking him in the eye when you say this? Should you say it right before he has to leave? Just because you say it doesn’t change the fact that he’s about to be gone for several long days. Maybe this is a terrible time to admit something that suddenly feels so true and so consequential. 
He senses your internal conflict, pulling back despite your resistance and holding your face between his hands. 
“You what?” He murmurs, soft eyes bouncing back and forth between your own. Fuck—you feel so observed, now. Like he can read your mind. 
“I forget.”
FUUUUUUCK. 
Spencer blinks. Processes. You watch the disbelief crystallizing over his eyes like ice freezing over a lake. 
He knows. 
He knows you didn’t forget, and he probably knows what you were going to say, and he’s going to tell himself he was wrong to spare your dignity. 
Everything hurts when he kisses you. You wonder what regret tastes like. 
“Well, let me know if you remember.”
It’s too gentle and at the same time he can’t hide the edge with all the tenderness in the world. You nod as if in a trance, already looking forward to dissociating as you lie in bed and stare at the dark ceiling.
Two small goodbyes are exchanged, slightly stifled now, as if shared between drunk strangers who have sobered up and are mutually embarrassed about how candidly they’d interacted before. 
You close the door behind him, doing up all the locks, and meticulously flick every light switch in the apartment off before climbing into his bed—though you don’t really feel like you deserve to be there anymore.
But perhaps this is all an overreaction. It’s not like you owe it to him to say I love you, or anything—it was bad timing, anyway. And why can’t he say it? In fact, why hasn’t he said it? 
Maybe you have it all wrong. 
Maybe he doesn’t feel that way about you. 
You fall asleep before you allow these questions to make you sick. 
24 hours go by. 
24 hours go by and you really had meant to leave his apartment—it was just that you woke up late, and your phone was dead so you couldn’t call a car, so you charged it while you made breakfast, and then you ate, and then you decided to take a shower and wash your clothes, and then it was two in the afternoon and you hadn’t left yet and you decided to walk to the store and replenish the groceries you’d used up. 
Maybe you got a bit distracted looking at flowers and other beautiful things at the market and by the time you got home it was 5:00, so you decided to wait until seven to skip rush hour. And then eight, just to be sure. 
Before you know it, it’s midnight, and you’re dozing off in his bed again (teeth cleaned with the brush you’d bought at the store—maybe this whole situation hadn’t been entirely unwitting on your part.)
Throughout the day, you tried to let all your anxiety about the previous night melt away. If it’s something that needs to be addressed, Spencer will address it. Everything will work out in the end. That thought is how you’re able to doze off. 
You’re almost asleep when your phone lights up and begins buzzing on the side table. You wince as your eyes open, not adjusting well to the harsh bright display and unable to discern who’s even calling you at this hour. Stupidly, probably because you’re half asleep, you answer without checking. 
“Hello?”
Your voice is groggy, quiet with sleep. 
“Shit, did I wake you?”
“Spence?” you whisper, stomach flipping at the sound of his voice on the other line. You feel caught, still sleeping in his bed. 
“… yeah,” he chuckles. “Did you not check who was calling before you picked up?”
“I was asleep,” you pout. “Kinda.”
“Okay. Go back to sleep, honey. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
You sit bolt upright, phone balanced between tense fingers and speaking directly into the microphone. 
“No! No, I’m awake. What’s up? Why did you call?”
A longer stretch of silence—you’re too sleepy to comprehend what it might mean, though never too sleepy to worry about it. With a pang of pain, you recall your strange goodbye, the words you hadn’t said. 
“I just needed to hear your voice,” he sighs. You frown, staring at nothing in particular in the pitch black room. 
“Oh. Is everything okay?”
“As much as it can be.”
“Right.”
More quiet. You chew on the inside of your cheek, stricken with a sudden feeling of awkwardness that you haven’t had with Spencer in a while. 
“I’m sorry… I don’t really know what to say.”
“That’s okay,” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice which makes you feel a bit better, “why don’t you tell me about your day? Or you can absolutely go back to sleep, if you’re too tired.”
“Don’t ask me about my day,” you whisper, flopping down on the bed once more. Shame seeps into your voice. He laughs. 
“What? Why?”
“Because if I tell you you’re going to think I’m super weird and you’re going to break up with me.”
Laughter tapers off into gentler tones. 
“I already think you’re super weird. It’s actually one of your most attractive qualities.”
Blood rushes to your cheeks. 
“But it’s like… borderline crazy.”
Immediately, he replies, “for better or worse, I also frequently find myself attracted to crazy.”
“Thank you for calling me crazy and super weird,” you grumble. 
“I also called you attractive twice. Tell me.”
When his tone takes on that easy, assertive quality, and it’s sort of raspy and low because it’s late and he’s been talking all day, and you can hear the lazy smile on his face—you imagine him laying on his hotel bed, arm slung over his eyes in the dark as he grins into the microphone—you have a very difficult time saying no. 
“Fine. Guess where I am right now.”
“Um, I would hope you’re in bed?”
You smile to yourself, basking in the victory of successfully throwing him off his game even slightly. 
“Guess whose bed.”
Silence. 
“What an interesting question.” That cocky smile, the low drawling is back, and you chew on your lip, ignoring the shiver that runs down your spine. “If it’s not mine or yours, we’re going to have issues.”
“But if it is yours? You’re not going to call the police on me?”
“Why would I call the police? To tell them there’s a pretty girl in my bed and I don’t want her there?”
“To tell them your psychopathic girlfriend broke into your apartment and might be holding hostages there.”
Spencer laughs; a brittle, drawn out thing, flat and quiet as the desert.
“If you were a psychopath, calling the cops would be a waste of time. I would handle you myself.” The idea of being handled has your thighs clenching. “But—yeah, don’t invite anyone else in.” More humor finds its way into his voice, momentarily relieving some tension that had sneakily begun to build. “Having people in my space makes me anxious.”
“But not me?” Your whisper is half flirtatious, half insecure. Spencer’s reply is soft, as if he’s picking up on this from hundreds of miles away.
“No, not you. You are always the exception.”
“Good,” you say, cheeks aching as you half-bury your warm face into his pillow. “Because I made myself really comfortable. You have a nice shower, by the way.”
Spencer groans. 
“You’re killing me.”
“What? What did I do!”
“Don’t talk to me about my bed and my shower. I might start to think you’re intentionally being a brat.”
“You asked me about my day! I’m just telling you what I did!”
But you’re also intentional teasing him for sure.  After a pause, he sighs in defeat. 
“You’re right. I did do that. Tell me what else happened.”
“Well,” you begin, all too eager, “I had to put my clothes in the dryer after I got out, so I borrowed some of yours. But then they were way comfier than mine, so after I went to the store I put them back on, and—”
“Okay.”
“Okay what?” you frown. 
“Tell me what this is.”
“I—I don’t know what you mean.”
Lying to a profiler is usually pointless. 
“I’m not stupid, sweetheart. Tell me why you keep talking about my shower and my bed and my clothes.”
Caught red-handed. Your skin heats up. 
“I don’t know. I miss you.”
He hums in a way that blurs the line between sympathetic and patronizing. Even through the phone you can feel the bass of it in your bones.  It changes the frequency you’re vibrating at. It’s hypnotic. 
“But that’s not really why you’re being intentionally provocative, is it?”
“No,” you admit quietly. “I’m still upset you had to go last night.”
“So you’re frustrated and you’re taking it out on me?”
Your brow furrows. Well, when he puts it like that…
“I’m not taking anything out on you.”
“I think you are. And I don’t appreciate that, because I’m on your side, honey. Do you think I prefer being in a hotel bed by myself or being in my bed with you?”
Somehow, he makes you feel like a scolded child. But he makes it appealing in ways you don’t understand. 
“Your bed with me,” you murmur, skin prickling with the coldness of his absence even as you curl under the blanket. 
“Right. So why don’t you tell me what I can do for you right now, instead of punishing me for things that are beyond my control?”
“I wasn’t punishing you,” you mutter. 
“No? You weren’t intentionally talking about using my shower and sleeping in my bed and putting on my clothes so that I’d have to think about what I can’t have right now?”
“I—”
“Believe me when I tell you I have been thinking about what I can’t have, all day. Your efforts are entirely redundant and you can’t say anything about yourself that is even close to as dirty as the frankly disrespectful thoughts I’ve been having about you for seventeen hours.”
The lack of air is making you so dizzy your vision goes gray at the edges. 
“What… what thoughts?”
“None that you need to concern yourself with.”
“You can’t just say something like that and then not tell me!” you insist. He’s obviously giving you a taste of your own medicine and it’s fair but it doesn’t mean you have to like it. 
“I can do whatever I want,” Spencer corrects cooly in a way that pisses you off beyond belief because he’s right. It triggers some adolescent immaturity within you—a desire to get back at him, so to speak. He wants intentionally provocative? He can have it. 
“Fine. Then so can I. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it even if I could.”
“Spencer,” you warn. “If you don’t tell me what you were thinking I’m gonna—” you look around the room for ammo. “I’m gonna look through your nightstand!”
“Go ahead. I’ll warn you, it’s not very interesting.”
“Sounds like what someone who has something hide would say,” you mumble, crawling across the mattress through tangled sheets and using your phone flashlight to open the drawer. 
Spencer is patient and silent as you take in its contents—a small blue leather-bound notebook (full of what looks like Russian), a fountain pen, a glasses case, various kinds of vitamins, and—
“Spencer Reid,” you say, dragging out his name and pretending nothing is fluttering in your stomach, “what are these?”
“I don’t know. I can’t see what you’re referring to.”
“Take a wild guess.”
“Oh, I have one. But I’d like to hear you say it.”
You realize you may have gotten yourself in deeper than you meant to by going through his stuff. Well—they don’t say karma is a bitch for nothing. 
“What are you doing with a box of condoms?” 
He chuckles and you feel it in your whole body, warm as you stretch across his mattress and eye the box like it might jump out at you. 
“Those are years old. I’ve used three since I bought them.”
“Don’t tell me that,” you whine. “I don’t wanna think about all the other women you’ve seduced.”
“You wanted them to be for you, huh?” 
You flush. Honestly you hadn’t even thought about that. 
“I… I don’t know. I kind of just assumed…”
It’s silent for a second and you frown, realizing you hadn’t even considered protection when you’d imagined sleeping with him before. 
“You assumed what, honey?” he asks, voice soft. 
“It’s dumb. I can’t tell you.”
“You can tell me anything. I’m not going to think it’s dumb, I promise.”
You chew on your lip, letting your eyes unfocus on the box as you muster the courage to be honest. 
“Whenever I imagined it… we didn’t… use anything.”
The words make you cringe even as you’re saying them. So does the quiet that follows. 
“When you imagine us sleeping together, we don’t use a condom?”
“Ah!” The phone drops to the mattress as you cover your ears and roll onto your side, curling into yourself once more. “You didn’t have to say it! You make me sound so weird!”
“It’s not weird,” he laughs, because he can probably imagine exactly what you just did, “I just wanted to make sure I was understanding you. That said… we would definitely use protection.”
“Do we have to?”
The quiet words take even you by surprise—and they seem to stun Spencer as well. Several false starts are punctuated by a sigh as he gathers his thoughts. 
“We really should, baby. That’s the kind of thing we need to take seriously.”
“But you’re… you’re good, right?”
Thankfully he picks up on your meaning. 
“I am. I wouldn’t touch you if I weren’t.”
“And I’m good. So...”
“Hm. And has anyone ever explained to you where babies come from?”
You groan in frustration. 
“Spencer, I’m being serious! There are ways to negate that.”
“Honey,” he murmurs, “I understand that. But it would be irresponsible of me to say yes. We can talk about it in the future, but—”
“I’m telling you it’s already dealt with. The chances of an accidental pregnancy are slim to none.”
The new information hangs in the air for a moment until Spencer speaks—to your surprise, his voice is low and humorous. 
“That is… good to know. But even so—I’m setting a dangerous precedent if I always let you get exactly what you want.”
“Is it such a bad thing that I just wanna—I wanna know what it feels like? You don’t want that?”
“That’s not what I said. I want to know exactly what you feel like. I’m just hesitant to give in so quickly because it makes me look weak.”
You laugh breathlessly, caught between being turned on by the first part of his sentence and amused by the sarcastic second half. Your thighs clench and your hand absentmindedly wanders between them. 
“You know what I was thinking about?” you ask. Spencer hums curiously. “I was thinking about when you let me, um… when you let me touch you how you touch me.” He hums again, but you can hear the amused curve of a smile in it now.
“When you had your mouth all full of me and you looked so pretty?”
“When I—yeah,” you agree, too caught up to deny his compliment as your fingers brush your most sensitive spot through clothing. “And  how you got me all messy after. And I was wondering what it would feel like… inside me.”
He sucks in a breath. Your legs brush against each other and you twist slightly as you pretend like you’re not touching yourself just a little bit. 
“You want me to come inside you?”
“Yeah,” you whisper, brain short-circuiting at the way those words sound in his voice. 
On the other side of the line, Spencer isn’t doing a fantastic job of thinking clearly either. His dick is half-hard already and it’s only getting worse with each little noise you make that you don’t seem to realize you’re making. 
“Really? That would be very messy, baby. I’m surprised that’s what you want.”
“But I really want it,” you breathe. He’s not even looking as he slips his hand under the waistband of his pajamas and palms himself, his other hand rubbing tiredly over his face as his phone rests on his chest. This was not how he intended for this call to go, believe it or not—but he’s here now. 
“Yeah? Is that why you’re touching yourself right now?”
You go silent—which is more or less exactly the reaction Spencer had been expecting. Patiently he waits for you to deny it, in three, two—
“’M not.”
Now, he could explain how he knows that’s a lie. How your breathing pattern changed, and your voice got softer and airier, and how you started speaking with smaller words in fragmented sentences. But he doesn’t feel like explaining any of that. 
“I know that’s not true,” he murmurs. “You know what? It wasn’t fair to get you all worked up last night and then leave. I don’t want you frustrated, honey. I want you to do whatever you need to do.”
You make a little gasping noise, and Spencer can imagine the way your back would arch when you did it. His own hips buck slightly as his dick twitches under his fingers. 
“Where are you touching?”
“Um—over my clothes.”
Cute. 
“Go under them for me. Tell me how it feels when you’re touching yourself like that.”
It takes a moment, in which all he hears is the rustling of fabric, until you’re whispering, “feels… it feels good. I wish you were here.”
He inhales, freeing his cock and squeezing the base. 
“I know. Just listen to my voice, pretty. I’m right here.”
Spencer allows himself a few slow tugs as he imagines what’s happening in his bed. You make a squeaking noise, like a held-back moan, and his eyes screw shut. 
“I need them inside,” you whine, and he knows you’re referring to his fingers—the ones currently stroking his own leaking cock. 
“You can use your own, just give yourself a minute first. Remember what I said about needing to be ready?”
“I am ready—” judging by the surprised chirp you interrupt yourself with, you’ve proven yourself right. What surprises Spencer is the weak sound of disappointment you make next. “Spence, it doesn’t feel the same.”
“We’re different sizes, honey. Your hands aren’t as big as mine. But you can still make it feel good.” 
He almost says, 90% of the nerves in the vaginal canal are located in the lower third—in other words, within approximately 2.36 inches from the opening, which you can most certainly reach—but he refrains. He’s not sure if that’s good dirty talk. 
“You have a really sensitive spot about three inches up, right in front. It’s going to feel a little different than the rest of you when you touch it. I want you to try and find it for me, okay?”
“Okay,” you breathe, ever-eager to please even from a great distance. There’s a quiet moment. “I can’t—I don’t think I can r—oh,”
The moan is so pretty Spencer can’t help speeding up the motion of his hand, hissing slightly as his fingers brush against the angry tip with every pump. 
“Did you find it?”
“Yeah,” you whine, a weak, high-pitched thing. “Oh my god.”
“Be gentle,” he warns with some effort as his own hips jump slightly. “You’re really sensitive there. If you’re not careful you’ll make yourself sore.”
“I don’t care—holy shit—” the way your voice rises and tightens to a squeak at the end has Spencer moaning as he fucks his fist. A black hole forms and warps time, turning every minute into a second and every second into an infinity until he has no idea how much time is going by. He drags his thumb over the tip, smearing precum over his cock and whining as his jaw drops at the feeling. “Oh my god, Spencer,” in that same strained, high voice. “’M gonna—ah!”
He gets the general sentiment. 
“What, baby? You’re gonna make yourself come all over your fingers? Is that what you wanted to tell me?”
“Mhm!”
“Yeah, I bet you are. It feels good, huh?”
“Yes,” you cry. 
“See? You don’t need my fingers to feel good. Mine barely fit, you know that? I have to hold your fucking hips down whenever I put my fingers in you because you can’t stop squirming. I don’t know how you think you’re going to take my cock.”
“Spencer!” 
He knows. 
“Come, baby. Let me hear you.”
The delicate sounds you make as you bring yourself to orgasm tip him over the edge of his own—grunting as he comes all over his fist. 
“Jesus,” he strains under his breath, the word dragging out into two long syllables as his hips buck involuntarily and cum drips down his knuckles. He’s lightheaded and he’s created a mess and it all happened so quickly. “Fuck,” he breathes, a rasping chuckle as he reaches for the towel he’d dropped on the bed after his shower earlier. “You conscious over there?”
“I’m conscious,” you slur, breathing heavily. “I’ve never had an orgasm by myself before.”
“Are you proud of yourself?” Spencer smiles, wiping his hand off and making sure he’s otherwise clean. “You should be. I am.”
He’s barely kidding. 
“I’ll be proud when I can do it without your help,” you tease. 
“But I’ll always want to help you with that.” His already warm face flushes further as he goes over what he’d said. “Sorry I was so vulgar.”
You laugh. He blushes even more. 
“Are you? I think you secretly love being vulgar.”
“I don’t know why! I have no idea where it comes from. I would never speak that way in any other context. I should probably work on that. Sometimes I look back on the things I say and I’m genuinely appalled.”
“Well, don’t stop on my account. Personally I enjoy it.”
“Yeah, I think I’m corrupting you. You probably shouldn’t enjoy it.”
The truth of it weighs heavy on his mind, but he’s pretty sure his voice alone doesn’t betray that and you can’t sense it through the phone. 
“Oh, my god. Do not do that falling on your sword shit. I like being corrupted by you. If you stop I’ll be very upset.”
“Well god forbid you get upset,” he teases gently. Idly he wonders if the reason he’s suddenly feeling so depressed is because his cortisol levels were already high from the case, and then he jarred his system with an orgasm, spiking his dopamine and ultimately causing it to plummet without the oxytocin release that post-coital physical contact would usually provide. 
Or if it was something else. It could also be something else. 
For the millionth time, he wishes he was with you. Part of him also wants to go to sleep. But mostly he wishes he was with you. 
A comfortable silence settles over the conversation. In the ditch between words, you’re mapping constellations in the texture of Spencer’s ceiling. If you squeeze your eyes almost shut, you can imagine it really is the night sky. You can imagine he’s really here. 
You think about what he said—his apparently mindless vulgarity. Did it mean anything? Or was he just rambling to get you off?
“Spencer?” you murmur. 
“Yeah?”
“Can I ask you a question?”
He sounds earnest, perhaps a little tired, as he replies, “always,” through the little metal rectangle on your chest. He likes me and my questions are important to him, you repeat to yourself silently as you work up the strength. 
“If Penelope hadn’t called, last night… were you going to have sex with me?” 
Your lip tastes like his toothpaste as you chew it. Spencer sucks in a breath of air like he’s about to speak—and lets it fizzle out like foam on a carbonated drink. 
“I don’t know,” he finally admits, lamely. “That wasn’t my plan, but you can be extremely convincing when you want to be.”
“But why can’t it be your plan?” It’s an almost whine, pouty and childish—but the next words are quiet and pained. “Is it something I’m doing wrong?”
“No, no! It’s not you. You’re perfect. It’s—it’s complicated. It’s a me thing.”
Such trite words—such a ubiquitous, simple excuse sounds almost comical from his mouth when you know he’s capable of all the eloquence in the world. It’s not you, it’s me. It’s ridiculous. 
“Okay. Let me simplify this for you,” you begin with an uncharacteristic assertiveness that surprises even you. “I want to have sex with you. Either we are going to have sex or we’re not. So your future branches in two diverging paths. In one, we have sex, and then we keep having sex. In the other we never have sex ever. If you want to ever have the privilege of fucking me, then we just have to do it. Otherwise it simply will never happen. And I’m not eternally patient, Reid.”
Go me, you think, slightly breathless from your monologue. 
“Watch your mouth,” he says dryly. Something about the chastisement makes your stomach flip and your whole body tingle. “When you talk to me you call me Spencer. I will also accept Doctor Reid.” You wrestle down a smile, refusing to let him change the subject. A delayed sigh from him sobers up the conversation. “You know what I want. I’ve been very clear with you about that. But…”
“But…?”
Another sigh. A deeper, shuddering sigh, like his breath is searching for balance. Like Spencer is in a precarious position for which he was unprepared. 
“But—but to be completely honest… I worry that you’ll regret choosing me. And I know virginity is a social construct and I’m not implying that your worth will somehow be diminished if we have sex but regardless of my views on virginity as a construct, having sex for the first time can be weird and scary and it’s incredibly intimate and I don’t want you to regret your first time like I regret mine because you chose the wrong person.”
The words come at you so rapid-fire it takes you a moment to process them. And aside from all the ways you want to reassure him that you will not regret choosing him—that you could never, ever regret anything about him—one thing stands out. 
“You regret your first time?” 
Something between a scoff and a sigh travels through the line. You can tell he’s not annoyed at you for asking so much as he’s flustered himself with all his own words as he occasionally does. 
“Yeah. Yes. Sometimes I do. The person—she didn’t… like me as much as I liked her. And I was really, really in love with her, and she knew that and she knew she wasn’t in love with me—or maybe she was, I don’t know—but my point is, when one person likes the other more than the other person like them, things get complicated. And however you feel about me—that’s fine. It’s fine. I don’t want you to feel bad if we don’t feel exactly the same way about each other. I understand that this is newer for you, it’s different, I—I just don’t want us to do something we can’t undo because I don’t want to relive that. And I’m not saying it will never happen but I just don’t want you to make this choice when… when right now, I think we’re in different places emotionally. Regardless of that, I want you to choose the right person. I don’t want you to choose me and then find out that we feel differently after we sleep together and leave you feeling like you signed up for something you didn’t understand. I’m sorry. Maybe telling you this is selfish. But I’ve been thinking about it and trying to ignore it and I think I just have to be completely honest.”
Your ears ring like Spencer just fired a blank right into the microphone. Like you just got backhanded across the face and now you have the world’s worst case of whiplash. 
Every finger is numb and your blood is so cold it feels blue as it slithers thick through your veins. 
What you want to do is scream. What you want to do is go back to last night and stop yourself from almost telling him I love you, slap yourself and keep your cards a little closer to your chest. Because now he knows, and he doesn’t feel the same. 
You want to scream bloody murder. 
But when you try, when you unhinge your jaw and part your chapped lips and expect a bellow to come hurdling up the corridor of your throat with so much force it rattles your bones, all that falls out is a small, “oh.”
Maybe that’s worse. 
Spencer doesn’t reply. You hate yourself for feeling obliged to fill the silence. 
“I didn’t realize you…”
I didn’t realize that you don’t love me back. 
I didn’t realize I like you more than you like me. 
I didn’t realize you’d tell me to masturbate in your fucking bed and then drop this not even five minutes later. 
If Spencer Reid was able to talk to you over the phone with the same amount of affection and familiarity as always, like everything was still okay, knowing you love him and he doesn’t love you the whole time, he is not who you thought he was. 
“I’m sorry,” he lamely says again, like it could ever help. 
More silence. Now you can’t bring yourself to speak, so Spencer does. 
“I realize how awkward this is. I really didn’t mean to put you in this position. Especially not over the phone when I—god, I’m stupid. I’m sorry. But can we—can we talk about this in person when I get back? Please?”
Is that what grownups do? Is the proper etiquette for him to take you out to dinner and explain why he’s not in love with you? Is he going to break up with you?
What does one even wear to a breakup date?
“Okay,” you whisper. Your eyes sting, your everything stings, like you’ve been wrapped in a shroud of briar. Sheets that were soft a moment ago feel like sandpaper on open wounds. You feel like an open wound. 
Spencer sighs. It’s a sound of relief that confuses and hurts you even more. 
“Okay. I—okay. Thank you. Um—I’ll let you go back to sleep, now.”
“Okay,” you repeat—as if any of this were okay. But you can’t keep being that stupid girl who feels it all so much harder, who loves easily and begs to be loved in return, too naive to assume that someone who treats her so kindly might not reciprocate her feelings. It has to be okay, because if it’s not, you’re silly and dramatic and you’re just proving him right. 
“Goodnight,” Spencer whispers, and you can’t help but feeling that it’s the last time you’ll ever hear those words from his mouth while you’re in his bed. And he’s not even fucking here.
So you pull the blanket a little higher. You let your tears stain his pillow because they’ll be invisible by the morning. It will be like they were never here. Like you were never here. 
“Goodnight.”
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barcaatthemoon · 2 days
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red || jenni hermoso x reader ||
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you ask jenni to stop.
minors dni, 18+, smut ahead.
it's not really smutty, but still.
jenni's hands were gripping your hips so tightly that you swore you could feel the bruises forming already. she had been rough with you all day, starting before the two of you had even gotten out of bed. then, it had been more of a playful rough housing. now, she was thrusting her hips into you as hard as she could to make sure that you could feel every inch of her.
it wasn't what you had expected whenever she had taken you back to the bedroom. you were no stranger to jenni's moods, but she wasn't usually this rough for no reason. jenni wasn't jealous, nobody had been around either one of you today. it had been a bit of a lazy day, with the exception of jenni trying to annoy you throughout the afternoon. if anything, you should have been the one to be a bit aggressive in bed.
and in a way, you had been. you had held jenni's head down in between your legs earlier. that wasn't enough to warrant jenni fucking you like this though. it was fairly indulgent, and usually, you'd be fine with that, but it didn't feel right.
"jenni, red. i'm red," you whined. it was quiet, just barely a whisper. you hated interrupting jenni whenever she was focused, but you couldn't take any more. a part of you had said it so quietly that you thought she wouldn't hear you, but jenni was pulling out of you and rolling you onto your back as quickly as she could.
"what's wrong?" jenni asked immediately. her eyes were wide with fear, and you immediately were engulfed in guilt. you hated making jenni feel bad, especially whenever you didn't even know what was wrong. "did i hurt you?"
"n-no, it's not that," you reassured her. jenni looked absolutely distraught as she mentally combed over every little thing she had done that day. you had been a bit snappy with her before dinner, but that wouldn't have caused this. jenni had apologized to you long before the two of you made your way back here.
"is there anything that i can get or do for you?" jenni asked you. she was gentle as she reached towards you. you let her hand come to rest on your arm. slowly, jenni began to pull you into her arms. you hummed happily at the feeling of her holding you. it was soft and nice in all the ways that you realized that you had been craving jenni.
"i'm sorry," you apologized. jenni pulled back a bit. there was a puzzled look on her face. her eyebrows were furrowed deeply as she pouted a little. it was something you usually would have teased her about, rubbing out the furrow as you joked about wrinkles. tonight, you didn't feel like joking, instead going straight for clarity. "i stopped us. i don't think i can keep going. i'm sorry, jenni."
"you have nothing to apologize for, my vida. i'm sorry for not paying better attention to you, okay?" jenni pulled back just enough to force you to look at her.
"but you wanted this. it's been so long," you whispered.
"you tell me to stop, and we stop. i don't care what's happening. all i care about is you. do you understand me?" jenni asked you. you nodded, having completely understood her words. whether or not you took them to heart was a completely different thing. "i need to hear you say it and mean it."
"you care about me. if i need to stop, it's okay to tell you. you won't be mad, because you care." it wasn't word for word, which jenni appreciated. the two of you had been working on properly communicating needs, something that jenni felt was testing her patience. she didn't understand how someone so lovely and caring could be so unkind to themselves.
"thank you. i love you," jenni muttered against your forehead as she pressed a kiss to it.
"i love you too," you told her. jenni was absolutely beaming at your words, and you didn't have to see her to know. the way that she shook you a little as she hugged you told you everything that you needed to know. "what now?"
"that, my dear, is up to you. what would you like to happen?" jenni asked you. you thought a lot about it before deciding on just laying back with her. jenni got out of bed and grabbed some clothes for the two of you. she fished through her side of the closet for a sweatshirt for you to sleep in, along with the softest pair of underwear that jenni could find. you happily accepted the boxer briefs, not commenting on jenni only grabbing a sports bra for herself.
"can you hold me please?" you knew not to be nervous, but it wasn't easy for you to ask for things. jenni smiled as she climbed into bed with you, clad in a black sports bra and a pair of grey joggers. you were pretty sure that the pants were yours since they were both a little loose and too short on jenni.
"of course. i'll always hold you. you don't even have to ask." jenni pressed a kiss to the top of your head as the two of you positioned yourselves comfortably. you laid with your head on jenni's chest and your leg thrown over her body. she was completely trapped between the bed and your body, covered by the comforter, just how she liked it. "good night, mi amor."
"night jenni," you hummed happily.
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joelmillerisapunk · 2 days
Text
Beach Daddy III. I can do it with a broken heart
Rich daddy!Joel x F!reader
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Series Masterlist • Masterlist
Wordcount: 12,532
Summary: After a day of emotional turmoil, you find solace in a chance encounter with Joel, who invites you to his secret deck.
Warnings: 18+, Joel and reader get closer, Todd does fuckboy things, reader really goes through it in this one, it's like a lil baby soap opera up in here for everyone.
Notes: Welcome, welcome, dear friends. Sorry this is so long. I never know where to end the chapters 😂 so I just add more. Your comments, asks, and reblogs are always so welcome! I appreciate everyone who's in this with me.
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You walk out of Amorebelle with light pink clothing bags weighing down each arm, wearing a new outfit. You can't remember a time when you've gotten this many new clothes at once. You also find it hard to wrap your head around the fact that these clothes cost more than you make in an entire year.
The saleswomen Jane and McKenzie won't let you look at the price tags, but as they're ringing up your picks, you catch a glimpse of the total on the computer screen. You can't help but wonder how you'll ever be able to pay Joel back for this shopping trip. 
You also can't help but wonder how often he does this for women.
Jane, who's worked at the shop the longest, had recognized him when you walked in the door. You don't have time to contemplate this because you notice a maid you recognize from the yacht. She makes her way to you and starts relieving you of your bags. You make sure to keep the bag with your dress and shoes for the evening.
"Miss, I was told to take these to your room on the ship while you are at your appointment," the maid tells you.
"What appointment?" you ask her, confused.
"You have an appointment at the salon three stores up.”
"Did Joel set this up for me?" you ask, feeling even more surprised.
"Yes, ma'am," the maid says with a smile.
You're glad that the boutique you've been shopping in has a shower where you're able to rinse off before this appointment. They must be used to sandy beachgoers coming in right before a night out.
You make your way up the street and stop at the salon with floor-to-ceiling glass windows. From the outside, you can see the row of chairs, each in front of its own mirror.
You walk in, and the man at the front desk assures you that you do, in fact, have an appointment, full hair, and makeup, which is all prepaid.
The receptionist walks you back to your stylist, an attractive man whose hair color matches yours. "What do you have in mind today, sweetheart," your stylist asks you.
"I'm honestly not sure. Can I leave it up to you?" you ask.
"That's my favorite request," he says as he runs his fingers through your hair. "Your natural coloring is gorgeous, obviously, I am not going to touch that. So, I'm thinking a quick trim and a blowout."
He has your hair and makeup done within an hour, and you barely recognize yourself in the mirror. You're amazed that your hair is perfectly smooth, with not a single strand of frizz to be found. You gently run your fingers through your hair and can't believe how soft it is.
"What do you think?" the stylist asks you. He hands you a small mirror and turns you in the chair so you can get a better view of the back of your hair.
"Is this really my hair?" you ask, holding up the smaller mirror.
"Of course, sweetheart. You look amazing," he says with a smile.
"I didn't know I could love my hair this much.” You admit.
"So, go enjoy it!" he says with a huge smile.
"I will. I love it. Thank you so much," you say enthusiastically.
You walk out of the salon's front door in your midnight blue silk dress with shining hair, and you feel amazing. For the first time since the breakup, you feel like you can do a whole lot better than Todd.
"All I can say is wow," says Joel. He's been waiting for you outside of the salon.
"I hardly recognize myself," you say with a laugh.
"I wasn't commenting on the dress or your hair. I was impressed by your confidence. It looks good on you darlin," Joel says, looking you up and down unabashedly.
You feel your cheeks get hot. You don't understand how Joel always says exactly what you need to hear.
"But, I do have to admit I was right about that dress; it does look amazing on you," Joel says with a wink.
"I don't know how to thank you–" but Joel cuts you off before you can finish thanking him.
"Please, you don't need to finish what you were about to say. You deserved it. Simple as that."
"Okay," you say with a smile. "Well, then I just want you to know that today has been the best day I have had in a long time." You like that Joel isn't the kind of man who gives gifts because he likes the praise that follows.
"The restaurant is just a few blocks over. I can call for a ride," he says, pulling out his phone.
"Yeah, we could get a ride over," you say and grab his phone. "But, it's such a beautiful night; why don't we walk?" It is a beautiful night, but if you're being honest with yourself, you want to walk to soak up as much time alone with Joel as you can.
Joel smiles and offers you his arm. You notice his new suit jacket goes perfectly with your new dress. You bite your lip to keep yourself from asking if he picked it on purpose, but you secretly hope he had.
"This town is beautiful; I'm surprised that it isn't busier," you say, looking up at the bistro lights strung across the streets in a zig-zag pattern. The light is just barely fading, and the cool breeze catches the slit in your dress, making the end lightly flutter around your ankles as you walk.
"It is a well-kept secret," Joel says.
"For the rich and famous?" you ask.
"Well, kinda, but the locals who live here are what make this place so amazing. The restaurant we’re headed to has some of the best food I've ever eaten. But the chef is just a local man who perfected his art form. Never went to culinary school; just cooked because he loved it."
"How do you know all that about him?" you ask.
"My family has vacationed here for as long as I can remember. When I got tired of listening to my parents argue, I would go exploring the island. I’ve gotten to know a lot of the locals over the years," he explains.
You walk up to a building with a large illuminated sign reading The Coastal Hibiscus. The restaurant has a large deck area with a perfect view of the ocean. As you make your way up the front steps, you drop your hand from Joel's arm, not wanting Sarah to get the wrong idea.
You arrive at the restaurant last, finding the entire party already seated. As you enter, the conversation slows, and Todd's gaze locks onto you, a sense of satisfaction washing over you from the look on his face.
Only two seats remain, so you sit between Alison and Hudson. Joel takes a seat directly across from you, next to his daughter.
"I love that dress on you, by the way." Alison says with a little smile.
"Thanks," you reply as the waiter distributes menus.
"Where did you take off to? I haven't seen you since you went with Sarah's dad to find the dolphins," Alison asks.
"Oh, we never found them, so we just drove around for a long time looking for them," you lie, staring intently at the menu. You don't want to share the details of the intimate day you spent with Joel.
"That's too bad," Alison says, joining the group's conversation about where everyone plans to 'winter' that year.
You continue to look at your menu, overwhelmed by the number of choices. Finally, you look up to see Joel staring at you. You silently mouth 'What should I get?' across the table.
He smiles at you and mouths back 'The lobster.'
When the food arrives, you're grateful for his suggestion. His choice is amazing; the lobster is cooked so well that it feels like it melts in your mouth.
You sit peacefully sipping a glass of wine and listening to the group's conversation, stealing glances at Joel. The waiter brings around dessert menus, and you order a slice of cheesecake, one of your favorites.
A few minutes later, the waiter sets a piece of cheesecake in front of you, and placed delicately in the whipped cream is a stunning cushion cut diamond engagement ring. Your breath catches in your throat, and your heart stops. As you try to make sense of what's happening, you hear Todd whisper angrily to the waiter, "No, not her!"
No one seems to notice the mix-up, and a few seconds later, the engagement ring cheesecake is placed in front of Sarah instead. Her small squeak alerts the rest of the table to what's going on.
"Sarah, will you make me the luckiest man in the world? Will you marry me," Todd says, down on one knee next to Sarah.
"Of course, I will." Sarah immediately answers. She jumps up and hugs Todd, all the while letting out ear-piercing squeals.
You look across the table and see Joel's eyes locked on you. Did he see them place the ring in front of you and your reaction to it? 
The restaurant feels like it's closing in around you. You have to get out. You quietly slide your chair away from the table, leaving your ringless cheesecake untouched, and walk out into the open air. You start walking toward the ocean; the water has turned from a vibrant blue to an ominous black. The glassy surface reflects the light of the moon, which sits alone in the sea of darkness. 
You continue walking, your feet aching in the heels, but to your relief, you recognize the yacht docked in a nearby marina. The crew must have sailed over to this marina to drop off the rest of the group while Joel and you were in the shops. So you make your way towards it. However, even before you reach the docks, the tears have already started falling down your face. You wipe them away quickly, not wanting to stain your new dress. The sound of footsteps behind you has you hurrying to the yacht. Whoever is following you, you do not want to speak to them–not now.
Not even if it's Joel.
 "Todd, I'm so glad we finally get to spend some time together. It seems like I barely get to see you anymore. I'm so sorry I've been so busy," you said, smiling at your fantastic boyfriend. You really missed him, but with graduation so close, you had to put all of your efforts into studying.
"I'm glad you finally found some time for me," Todd said in a flat tone. You guessed you deserved that, but the comment still stung.
"Where do you want to go eat? I heard there’s a great new sushi place just a few blocks over," you said, trying to switch the mood to a more positive one.
"Yeah, that works," Todd muttered as he pulled out his phone to send a text.
You started walking over, but you couldn't help but feel like something was off, and you relaxed as Todd's fingers locked with yours.
"So, how’s work going?" you asked. Todd had graduated with his Bachelor's degree the year before and started working for his dad's financial firm after that.
"It's been great. You would not believe some of the people I help with their investments. Every single one of them was a millionaire before they were thirty. That is going to be me; just you wait."
"I know you will be, Todd," you said as the hostess showed you to your table. "If anyone can make it happen, you will."
"It wouldn't hurt to have a rich wife. Then, we'd become millionaires together," Todd said and smiled at you. He had always been so proud of the fact that you were working towards being a lawyer. You were so relieved that he recognized your time studying was for your future together.
The waiter walked over to your table and asked if you were ready to order. Todd ordered multiple plates of sushi, and then the waiter turned to you.
"I'll have an order of the California rolls and a water," you handed the menu back to the waiter and looked up to see Todd with a strange expression on his face.
"California rolls?" Todd asked as the waiter walked away.
"It's the best deal on the menu. I'm saving for my books. I don't know if I’ll be able to qualify for another loan," you said, slightly defensive. You knew Todd hated how cheap you were, but you had to be if you were going to be able to afford to put yourself through school. You knew he didn't understand; his dad paid for his education.
Todd pulled out his phone again and sent another text. You tried not to let it bother you; it was probably something for work.
You spent the rest of dinner talking about the different investments Todd was making on others' behalf and how one of his clients had just purchased their first private island.
"I'm going to run to the restroom before we head out," Todd said and got up, not realizing he had left his phone sitting face up on the table.
As soon as he walked away, his screen lit up with a text message. All you could see from where you sat was the contact name, 'Her.' Your heart sank.
The screen went black, and you took a deep breath. Todd walked back from the restroom, smiling at you.
"You ready to go?" he asked you as he made it to your table.
"Absolutely."
"Why don't we catch a movie?" Todd asked, grabbing your hand again as you walked out of the restaurant.
"Sure. What do you want to go see?”
You slam the door of your room and rest your back against it, catching your breath. You had to get away from whoever was following you out of the restaurant. You can't face anyone after witnessing Todd's engagement to someone else. You take a few minutes to catch your breath, and when a soft knock on the door vibrates your back, you ignore it. The person doesn't knock again.
Your dress clings to your sweaty body, and you want nothing more than to take it off. You slip off the midnight blue silk gown and drape it over the chair in front of the vanity. Noticing the pink garment bags already hung neatly in your closet, you secretly wish that you fit in this world, this world of money. But you know deep down that you don't.
You walk past all of the new clothes and throw back on your usual attire of shorts and a T-shirt; you can't get comfortable in the fancy clothes. You make your way over to your bed and throw yourself on the comforter. Burying your face in the pillow and let the tears come. You cry until your eyes burn. You sit up in bed and wonder where everything went wrong with Todd and you. You had truly been in love with him. You had planned a future together, and even though he never spoke directly of marrying you, you always assumed it would happen one day. So when the waiter placed his engagement ring in front of you perched on a pillow of whipped cream, it hurt even more.
Your roommate had been suspicious of Todd cheating on you for months before you read that text. You went on pretending your relationship was stable, even though deep down, you suspected him, too, especially after the incident at the sushi restaurant.
You didn't confront him about the text until weeks later. He denied everything at first, saying it was his father's receptionist. She was a bitter older woman who was not the kind of woman you wanted to cross. He put the receptionist in his phone as 'her' as a joke.
You knew he was lying, but you were okay to keep on pretending. That was until you caught him texting 'her' again, right in front of you. Then, you exploded, and you got into your worst fight. He finally came clean that it was a woman he met at your birthday party. 
He swore he wasn't cheating and that she was just a friend. You promised that you would work it out even if he was cheating on you, but he wasn't interested in that. He was no longer interested in you. He broke up with you the very next day.
With the memories replaying in your mind, you jump out of bed and run to the balcony. You breathe in quick gasps of the cold sea air. You just realized that you had invited Sarah to your birthday party. Todd had met her there, and they had been in contact ever since. Sarah told you that she'd been dating Todd for four months, but your birthday party was eight months ago. So Todd had been pursuing Sarah for eight months while he was still pretending to be faithful to you.
'It wouldn't hurt to have a rich wife; then we'd become millionaires together.' Todd's words ring through your memories. He hadn't been talking about you becoming a lawyer and the two of you becoming wealthy together. He had been talking about marrying Sarah, an heiress. This had been his plan all along. 
This night of realization has your head hammering, and you need to calm down. So you walk back into your room, slip on your shoes, and walk out your door. You’re going to go out to the bar on the deck and make yourself a drink. The lights on the deck are already out, but you quickly realize you’re not there alone.
"Oh, Todd!" Sarah moans.
"You are so damn sexy!"
Two shadowy figures are pressed together in the pool, waves rippling around them, and you quickly realize you have just interrupted Sarah and Todd's after-engagement celebration. You immediately freeze on the spot.
Their moans grow louder, and you try to retreat before either of them sees you. Unfortunately, you don't notice the lounge chair behind you in the dark and topple over it in your rush to get away. You land flat on your back, and all the air is knocked out of your lungs.
"What the hell? Who's there?" Todd's voice yells behind you.
You pray it’s too dark for them to see or recognize you. Then, you start crawling back towards the door, and as soon as you think you are out of sight, you stand up quickly and run. Once you get through the door, you keep running down the hall, the tears stinging your eyes. You are humiliated, heartbroken, and defeated.
You get to a set of stairs and immediately start climbing as many floors as you can. You have to get as far away from the pool as possible. It’s  bad enough knowing Todd is sleeping with Sarah, possibly for eight months, but to see it first hand is too much.
You end up in front of an elevator, and just as you stop to catch your breath, the doors slide open.
"Hey darlin? Are you okay?"
It's Joel. All you want to do is to run into his arms and feel his warmth surround you. But instead, you simply nod and turn to walk away. How could you possibly explain what you just witnessed? Sarah is still his daughter.
"I don't believe you. Somethin’ is wrong. I came to check on you earlier.”
Joel hands you a glass of red wine, and you follow him out onto his private deck. The elevator has led up to his room, and Joel, noticing your state, invites you up.
You lean over the railing and swirl the wine in the glass.
"Do you want to talk about what happened?" Joel asks with a note of concern in his voice.
"Nothing happened; I was just tired," you reply.
"You were so tired that you ran all the way back to the yacht?" Joel asks, clearly not believing you.
You don't say anything and take a small sip of your wine.
"And in the hallway just now? You seemed pretty upset," Joel says.
"I promise, I'm fine, but thank you," you say, trying to muster up a small smile.
Joel does not look convinced, but he lets the topic go. You both stand looking over the ocean for a long time in complete silence. The yacht has left the small island, and so the waves are bubbling lazily behind the propellers.
"When do we make port again?" you ask, finally breaking the silence.
"Tomorrow," Joel replies.
"I’m gonna miss you, Joel," you say quietly.
"What are you talking about, darlin?" Joel says as his eyebrows knit together in concern.
"I'm going to catch a flight back to New York tomorrow.”
Joel stares at you for a long time after saying that you’ll be leaving when you get to port the next day. Or at least you hope you will be. You don't even know where you will be, let alone if there is an airport or a ticket home you can afford.
"I would really hate to see you go, darlin," Joel says with a serious look on his face.
"I think it's for the best," you answer softly.
"The best for you?" he asks. You stay quiet for a long time. Are you deciding what is best for you and/or running from your problems?
"I don't know… " you answer truthfully.
You take another small sip of the wine Joel had poured you and watch the liquid as you swirl it around in your glass.
"You know wine always tastes better in the sauna," Joel says, watching you.
You turn to him, "That does sound nice, but I’m sure the staff who work the spa have already gone to bed."
"Well, good thing the sauna is in my bathroom," he says as the corners of his mouth ease into a smile.
"You have a sauna in your bathroom?" you ask, impressed.
"Of course, so what do you say?"
"I'm not really dressed for a sauna," you gesture down to your shorts and T-shirt.
"I have a robe that you can borrow unless you'd rather go without." Joel winks and starts walking away to grab the robe.
"So what else do you have up here all to yourself?" you ask, liking the distraction from the mess of a night you've been through.
You walk through a large sitting room, a bedroom with the biggest bed you've ever seen, and then finally to the bathroom. Joel calling the tub in his bathroom a soaking tub is an understatement; it's more like a small swimming pool sunken in the middle of the floor.
"You can get changed here." Joel leads you into an extravagant walk-in closet, complete with a large vanity table and chaise lounge. He hangs a white cotton robe on a hook next to the door, making it the only garment in the empty closet. You realize Joel's room must include his and her's closets, but Joel has no use for this one.
You undress down to nothing and slip the buttery soft robe over your skin. You could live in this robe. There are definitely some amazing perks to being rich. You walk out of the closet, and Joel is waiting for you in a matching cotton robe.
"See, it's a perfect fit," he says.
"I don't even want to know how much one of these robes costs," you say. 
Joel laughs a little at your comment. "The sauna is through this door here," Joel says and pushes the door next to him open, holding it for you to enter first.
You don't know what you've been expecting when Joel had said he had a sauna in his bathroom, but the sauna you walk into is more than you could have ever imagined.
Every inch of the room is covered in light wood. The benches look as though they conform perfectly to your body and are accented with white pillows. The steam is warm and envelops you as soon as you walk into the room. However, the most breathtaking part of the sauna is the floor-to-ceiling window. It makes it feel like the sauna is open to the ocean itself, and the dark water reflecting the dim light of the room is extremely romantic.
"How do you ever leave?" you ask after a few speechless seconds.
Joel laughs again and takes a seat in the center of the bench, staring out into the dark water. You sit next to him and realize you might be too close, so you try to scoot away subtly.
"I don't bite, darlin."
You laugh awkwardly but remain close enough to feel the heat of his body next to yours. You close your eyes and try to let go of the evening. You think about watching the dolphins swimming in the cove while Joel sits next to you on the jet ski.
"You look like you're feeling a little better," Joel whispers.
"I am. This is exactly what I needed." You pause for a few seconds and add, "You keep saving me today."
"You've saved me on this trip too. Can I tell you a secret?" he asks, leaning in closer to you.
"Of course," you answer, and your heart starts beating faster.
"The rest of Sarah's friends drive me insane."
"That's your secret?" you bump his shoulder with yours. "That’s a really weak secret. They drive me insane too."
"If that’s not a secret, then tell me a better one," he says.
"What kind of secret?"
"Tell me why you’re leaving tomorrow?" he asks and looks into your eyes.
You pause, considering if you should tell him the truth, but he is getting Todd as a son-in-law. So you choose a different path.
"I can't afford to stay," you say finally. Taking Joel's silence as confusion, you elaborate, "I'm completely broke. I've put all of my money into school. I work as a bartender and live off of my tips and ramen noodles."
"I'm sorry, but I don't understand why that means you need to leave tomorrow," Joel says somberly.
That’s a fair point; Sarah and her father have paid for absolutely everything.  It isn't costing you anything to stay on this once-in-a-lifetime vacation. You need to come up with a reason to leave before he sees through the holes in your story.
"I have to get back to New York, get ready to move to Cambridge, and find a job there before the semester starts. I only have a few weeks of living costs saved up." This is partly true; you do need to do all of those things, but going back early would actually complicate things for you. You can't move into your new apartment in Cambridge until two weeks before the semester starts. So going back early would just mean you'd sit in your old apartment with nothing to do. Plus, if you went back early, you would have a few more weeks of expenses to take care of, and you already quit your job.
"What if I could help you find a new position in Cambridge?" Joel asks.
"What do you mean?" you ask, surprised.
"I have some connections in Cambridge; if I helped you get a few interviews, would you be able to stay longer?"
You can't find any words to respond. You've been really worried about what you would do for work when you got to Cambridge. You don't know anyone there and planned on spending the two weeks before the semester handing in resumes at different restaurants.
"You would do that for me?" you ask.
"Absolutely. I’ll make some calls in the morning. You don't have to stay, but I would enjoy your company if you did. The Bahamas are beautiful this time of year. I don't want you to miss it."
"Okay, I'll stay," you say quietly. "Thank you, Joel."
You can't believe this man's kindness to you. If it's important to Joel that you stay on the trip, then you will figure out how to deal with Todd and Sarah for a little while longer.
"I'm glad to hear it," he says with a smile.
The sky starts to lighten in the early morning hours, so you stand and tell him, "I should head back down to my own room and get some rest."
"Probably a good idea," he says and follows you out of the sauna.
You go back into the massive closet and change back into your clothes, hanging the robe back on the hook. You walk back out into the main room, and Joel is waiting for you, still in his robe.
"Let me walk you down."
"That's really okay. You’ve done so much for me already," you say.
"How long will you stay?"
"I'm not sure. At least another week." You smile at Joel and walk out the door.
***
Joel shuts the door behind you as you walk down the hall. He's relieved that he convinced you to stay for at least another week, but he knows there's something else that's the real cause for you being so upset tonight.
He knows that you're not part of Sarah's usual friend group, but after talking to you tonight, he's confused about how you're even friends at all. You clearly have big goals and work hard to see them happen. Sarah doesn't have any goals other than becoming an 'influencer.'
The thought of you working at every spare moment to put yourself through school makes his stomach twist at how badly he's spoiled Sarah. You deserve so much better than to be just scraping by. He would do anything he could to help you find something better. Hell, he would have offered to pay for your tuition, too, if he thought you would accept it.
Joel pulls out his phone and sends an email to the connection he has at a law firm in Cambridge. He's done some business with them in the past and figures it would be a much better fit for you than making people drinks. With how much business he's given the firm, he knows he can at least get you an interview.
On his home screen, there's a notification of a phone call from his financial advisor, Alester, that he missed while he was in the sauna with you. Alester never calls at this hour, so he knows something is wrong. Joel calls him back immediately, waiting impatiently to hear his voice on the other end.
“Joel, I am so sorry for the early hour," Alester says.
“No need to apologize; what's going on?" He asks urgently.
“I am afraid it is not good news.”
“Just tell me, Alester," he says, doing his best not to get impatient with the man. He's worked for Joel for years, and Joel trusts him with his life. There's an infuriatingly long pause on Alester's end. He sighs before he finally responds. “Blaine is back, sir."
***
The sun is streaming through the glass doors of the balcony as you finally open your eyes. Your head is pounding from a lack of sleep and caffeine. You want to order coffee up to your room, but you need to shower too badly to wait. After running all the way to the yacht and then sitting in the sauna with Joel, you are salty with dried sweat. You probably should have showered last night, but, after reaching your room in the early morning hours, you collapsed on the bed and had fallen asleep in your clothes.
You walk into the bathroom, expecting to look like a mess from all the events of the night, your clothes are extremely wrinkled, but you are surprised to see your hair still looks flawless. "I wish I could afford to get a blowout more often," you say to your reflection, pulling on a few strands as you admire the style.
You put your hair up and step into the hot water of the shower, washing off the previous day. You stand under the steaming water until you are getting a little dizzy from the heat. As you stand there, you can't help but think about Joel. He's been so kind to you, and you can't help but wonder if there's a chance he wants more from your relationship than what one would typically expect between a man and a friend of his daughter's. You shake your head. You can't allow yourself to think that way. Joel lives in a world you know nothing about. Not only is he much older than you, he is also Sarah's dad. Besides, he can have any woman he wants. Why would he want you?
Returning your thoughts to reality, you finish rinsing your hair and turn off the water. You wrap a towel around yourself, and make your way back into the bedroom to cool down.
The screen of your phone is illuminated, so you pick it up and lounge back on the bed. You have several notifications from the group chat between you and your roommates, Aubrey and Lin. You know you need to let them know what's going on.
Aubrey: Hey? Are you still alive? We haven't heard from you in days.
Lin: Maybe she finally found herself a rebound, and that’s why she’s too busy for us. My guess is a sexy pool boy!
You: Sorry, you two. Signal has been spotty. A sexy pool boy, Lin? Is that your guess or your fantasy?
Lin: I think a sexy pool boy should be everyone’s fantasy. ‘Pool boy, refresh my drink, and while you are at it, come rub me down with some tanning lotion.’
Aubrey: Lin, you’re the reason I can’t let Gianni read our group messages!
Lin: Sorry, we aren’t as lucky as you to have an amazing boyfriend who kisses the ground we walk on. Some of us have to use our imaginations.
You: I miss you two so much! I wish you were here with me.
Aubrey: How is everything going? Is the boat as big as we are imagining?
You: Honestly, it is probably bigger than you’re imagining. It’s not so much a boat as it is a super yacht. The bathroom in my room is as big as our entire apartment, and I’m just in a guest room. I have my own private balcony! Oh, and yesterday, I got to see a pod of dolphins!
Lin: Dolphins? How cool! I wish I had a rich friend who took me on expensive vacations.
You: Yeah, it sounds good in theory, but in reality, that rich friend was the one sleeping with my boyfriend for months.
Aubrey: Sarah was the one Todd was cheating on you with?! Why didn’t you lead with that?
You: Oh, that’s not even the worst part. Todd is here on the yacht too. We had already left port when I found out, so I’ve been stuck here with him.
Lin: No way! What the hell did that scumbag have to say for himself when he saw you?
You: Well, he pretended not to know who I am, and I went along with it.
Aubrey: I’m so sorry!
Lin: Why didn’t you call him out?
You: I probably should have, but I didn’t want to make things awkward. Like I said before, I am literally stuck on a boat with these people. Plus, Sarah clearly doesn’t know. I didn’t want to hurt her.
Aubrey: That makes sense. Maybe she will dump him before things get too serious.
You: Oh, one more thing, they got engaged at dinner last night. I had a front row seat for the entire thing. And then their after party.
Aubrey: Are you okay? Do you need me to come get you? I don’t know exactly how I would find you, but you know I would figure it out.
You: Thanks Aubrey, but I’m okay.
Lin: Shit, this is really messed up. What do you mean by ‘you had a front row seat to their after party?’
You: I walked out to the pool deck and caught them having sex in the pool. Then I tripped over a deck chair trying to get out of there.
Lin: Did they catch you?
You: I still don’t know. I really hope not. I don’t know how I would show my face in front of either of them again if they did.
Aubrey: How did Todd even meet Sarah? It’s not like your social circles mix very well.
You: I was thinking about that a lot last night. I am pretty sure that they met at my birthday party.
Lin: So you're telling me when we were all celebrating you, Todd was off hitting on someone else?
You: Pretty much. I’m realizing a lot about who Todd really is. I think his whole plan was to find someone rich. I was thinking about it last night. I remember that towards the end of our relationship, he made lots of comments about how poor I am.
Aubrey: You’re not poor! You’re a college student just trying to make it through school.
Lin: Isn’t Sarah the one who dropped out sophomore year to become an influencer?
You: Yes, that is Sarah. She does actually have a big social media following. And as you both know, she comes from a lot of money.
Lin: Well, that’s pretty easy when you can buy whatever you want and post pictures of yourself on your dad’s billion dollar yacht.
Aubrey: So how long until you get back?
You: I think I’m staying another week. We’re sailing to the Bahamas. I was told that we will make port tonight.
Lin: Well, that sounds amazing. Do you know what you’re going to be doing?
You: I’m not sure yet. I’ll have to ask Joel what has been planned.
Lin: Oh, who is Joel?
You: Joel is just a friend.
Aubrey: I’m glad to hear at least you’re making friends. Then you have a way to escape from Sarah and Todd.
Lin: Me too. Any pool boys?
You: Haha Lin! Very funny. No, I have not made friends with any of the pool boys.
Lin: Well, maybe you should. There is no better way to get over someone than getting under someone.
Aubrey: I hate to say it, but I agree with Lin. Go get some! There have to be some island hotties at one of your stops.
You: I can’t believe you two. I have to go. Someone is knocking at my door. I miss you two so much!
Chuckling at the antics of your two best friends, you set your phone down on the bedside table, smiling to yourself. It's good to know that you have at least two friends you can count on for anything.
You wrap your towel tight around you and check the peephole in the door, relieved to see a maid at your door and not someone else since you're not even dressed yet. You open the door and are surprised to see she's holding a tray and a box in her arms.
"Good morning, Miss," the maid says with a friendly smile on her face.
Confused, you return her smile but look suspiciously at the items she's holding. "Good morning. I think there may have been a mix-up. I didn't call down for anything."
"Don't worry. There was no mix-up," she assures you, taking a step through the open door. "Where would you like me to set this?" she asks.
You open the door wider and let her in to set the tray down on the table. She sets the box gently on the bed and turns to exit, still smiling at you.
"Do you know who sent this?" you ask, tracking the woman with your eyes as she steps away from the bed. However, she does not answer your question. Instead, she continues to proceed to the door with a small knowing smile on her face that makes you wonder what she knows that you don't.
"Have a good day, Miss," she says, giving a small head nod as she flashes you one last grin.
"Thank you," you say and close the door behind her.
You make your way over to the tray first. Lifting the cover, you find a stack of pancakes and a side of bacon and eggs. There's also a small pot of coffee and a fluffy pastry. Your mouth is already watering at the sight of the food, and you inhale deeply, closing your eyes and imagining how good it will all taste, but you replace the cover.
The anticipation for what the box could contain is too great.
The box is tied close with a red ribbon, so you untie it and set it to the side. You remove the lid to the box and are surprised to find a white cotton robe. Immediately, a smile crosses your face, and a small giggle of glee escapes your lips. There's a small handwritten note resting on top.
Darlin,
Please meet me on our secret deck later this evening. Enjoy some time to yourself.
P.S. I wanted you to be comfortable.
Sincerely,
Joel.
You set the card down on the nightstand, right next to the little pink seashell, and you slip on the robe. It's even softer than the night before, if that's possible, and it smells like sandalwood - It smells like Joel.
The clock reads 4:30 pm before you finally get out of bed and dress for the day. You pick out a form-fitting sundress with a delicate blue shell pattern along the hemline. It's one of the pieces that Joel purchased for you at Amorebelle. You aren't used to wearing dresses, but you want to look nice when you see him.
You carefully do your makeup at the vanity table in your bathroom. As you step back and look in the mirror, you are impressed with your own appearance; you look like you belong – almost.
You make your way to Joel's secret deck. Your heart pounds against your ribcage as you get closer. You stop as you round the corner to the private location; all you can see is the back of Joel's head as he holds a phone to his ear. The muscles in his shoulders are tense, and you can tell by his low tone that the conversation is not a pleasant one.
"What do you mean he’s threatening to contact members of the family?" You hear Joel say. "He has demands now? What are his demands?"
There is a long pause after what Joel says, and you watch him running a hand through his hair; he seems to be on edge. He listens carefully to whoever he is talking to, and you consider turning around.
"We need to start protecting the family assets. I need you to review my father's will again and ensure it is airtight. He will not get a dime out of me."
You know you should turn around and give Joel privacy, but your curiosity gets the better of you when he starts talking about his family. You lean against the railing to wait, and it squeaks. It squeaks loudly.
Joel turns his head and gives you a small half-smile. He waves his hand, gesturing for you to come to join him. You hesitantly walk over, taking as much time as possible.
"I agree that's a good plan. Lock everything down, and let me know if we get any more calls from him. I'm counting on you, Alester. Don't let me down," Joel says. He hangs up the phone and sets it on the table next to the lounge chair he is sitting in. He sighs, turns to the laptop sitting next to him, and starts typing.
"Hey, I hope I am not interrupting anything," you say and slowly walk up to him.
"Darlin," Joel says as he closes the laptop and turns to face you. "You're not interrupting anything; I was just getting caught up on some work stuff."
"I just noticed you were on the phone, and I didn't want to interrupt a business call or something," you say, trying to explain why you were leaning against the railing and eavesdropping on his phone call.
"Oh, that wasn't business. I just needed to deal with some family issues," he says as he moves a white and blue striped towel and a bottle of tanning lotion off of the lounge chair next to him, gesturing for you to take a seat.
"Are you feeling better?" he asks, and a natural smile finally mirrors in his eyes.
"I am because of you. Thank you so much for sending me breakfast, and that robe was amazing. I honestly can't remember the last time I let myself lay around in bed all day. I really enjoyed it," you say and sit as gracefully as you can manage in the lounge chair next to Joel.
"Good to hear. You deserved a day to relax like that. You don't need to thank me for the robe; after seeing you in it last night, I knew it belonged to you. It looked like it was made for you, so it was only right that I send it down to you," he says.
His words make your heart beat fast again, and your face flushes. You know you are getting too close to your friend's very handsome and single father than is wise. But, when he says things like that, it is hard not to.
You think about telling him the truth about why you were so upset, but you don't want to ruin the fun you're having together by unloading about your ex-boyfriend, who is about to be his son-in-law.
"So, are you excited to walk your daughter down the aisle?" you ask, quickly trying to change the subject, so you don't blurt out your history with Todd.
"Honestly, I'm not sure if I will walk Sarah down the aisle or if she will want her mom to," Joel answers.
His response surprises you, and it must show on your face because Joel continues with his explanation.
"I was only with Marnie, Sarah's mother, for a short time. Marnie got married to someone else shortly after and had Sarah. She believed that Sarah was biologically her husband's and not mine. I didn't even know Sarah existed. She had Sarah take a DNA test when she was ten; she was linked to some of the Miller family members who had also taken the test. Only then did we find out that Sarah was mine."
"I had no idea, Joel. Sarah never said anything about any of this," you say. You feel so sorry for all of them.
"When Marnie's husband died, she told Sarah and me the truth. However, Sarah had grown up with another man as her father, and I never wanted to try and fill his place in her life. So I never really took on that fatherly role with her. Instead, I bought her everything she ever asked me for, and that was the basis of our relationship for a long time."
You sit there staring at the pain in Joel's face for a while. He never takes his eyes off of the ocean but continues to tell you about his past.
"Over the years, we've tried to build our relationship, and I take her on vacation with me every summer, but we still don't have the typical relationship you would expect. At times, Marnie and I have a hard time getting along; we don't see eye to eye on a lot of things. So I stayed back and let Marnie raise Sarah; in a lot of ways, I don't agree with how she raised her," Joel says with a sigh. "That's why you're all here. Sarah and I don't know how to talk to each other because we have nothing in common and barely any memories together. So dinner gets a little awkward without others to fill the silence," Joel says, seeming slightly embarrassed about admitting this.
"I had no idea. Sarah always made it sound like her life was so perfect."
"In all the ways Sarah measures her life, it has been," Joel says, but you aren't quite sure what he means by it.
A maid with a tray of tropical cocktails interrupts your conversation, and she sets the drinks on the table between Joel and you.
"Thank you, Molly, these look wonderful," Joel says.
"Of course, sir," Molly says with a small smile.
"How's your sister doing? I hope she's making a speedy recovery."
"She is, sir. She should be back on her feet again in no time."
"When we get back, you should make some time to go and see her. I'll tell Reggie to add some more PTO for you," Joel says.
"Thank you, sir, I really appreciate that," she says and turnsto leave.
As you observe the interaction between Joel and one of his staff members, you realize you've never seen him treat an employee poorly. However, Sarah snaps at them to get their attention, and you suspect she doesn't even know their names or anything about them. She doesn't even treat them like they're people. This explains why you never felt like you fit in with Sarah and her friends, but you feel comfortable and want to spend all your time with Joel. He doesn't look down on you for being poor, but Sarah does. The irony of it all is that the only one on the ship who knows exactly how poor you are, is Joel.
You stare at Joel, and when he finally meets your gaze, you can't help but smile at him. "Thank you for telling me all of this," you say.
"Thank you for listening," he responds simply.
"It seems like we're making a habit of telling each other all of our secrets," you say with a small giggle.
"I hope that continues."
"Me too," you answer.
"Sarah has another dinner planned on the upper deck. Can I walk you up?" Joel asks you.
"I'm actually feeling a little seasick, I don't think it would be wise for me to eat right now," you answer. You don't feel like spending another evening with Sarah and her new fiance.
"Do you need a doctor? We have a nurse on the yacht, but we'll be making port in just a few hours; I can call and have one meet us at the dock."
"No, I'm okay, really. I just need to go back and lie down."
"Okay, if you're sure. I'll walk you down to your room," Joel said, checking his watch.
"No, no. I'm fine, really."
"Okay," he says reluctantly, "but please use the intercom in your room if you need anything."
"I will, I promise," you say with a small wave and leave to slowly make your way back to your room.
You take your time moving through the ship. You don't want to run into anyone heading to Sarah's dinner, where the topic of conversation is sure to be all about her recent engagement.
You're relieved when you see that most of the hallways are completely empty, so you quickly start toward your room.
"Hey!"
You turn and see Reggie walking up behind you.
"Hey, Reggie. It's been a while," you say with a smile.
"Where are you going?" he asks.
"I'm going back to my room. I wasn't really in the mood to spend dinner with everyone."
"Well, I was on my way to play some cards with some of the crew members. Why don't you come?"
Reggie must have seen the hesitation on your face. "Come on. It's actually fun to hang out with normal people every once in a while."
You laugh. You didn't realise that Reggie thought you were just as wealthy as the rest of Sarah's friends. "Reggie, I am a normal person. Let's go.”
Joel makes his way up to dinner alone, silently wishing you would be joining. You're one of the only ones in the group that he actually cares to have a conversation with. However, it might be for the best that you're not coming. Joel found himself always drawn to you, and if he wasn't careful, Sarah would catch on to his interest in her friend. He knows that would not go over well.
Joel's the last one to arrive, and he takes the only seat available next to Sarah's new fiance, Todd.
"I never got the chance to congratulate you on the engagement last night," Joel says as he shakes Todd's hand. "I rushed out because I had an urgent business matter I had to attend to."
Joel hoped that would adequately explain his quick departure the night before. He feels a little guilty that he didnt stay to celebrate and instead took off after you to make sure she was okay.
If he's being honest with himself, his evening spent with you, talking in the sauna, was much more enjoyable. He probably won't be winning any best dad of the year awards, though. He already smoothed things over with Sarah this morning. He showed up to her room with a pair of diamond earrings from Tiffany's. He'd bought them for her birthday, but they were perfect as a stand-in engagement present. Once he brought out the diamond, he didn't think she heard another word that he said. He’s happy to see that she’s wearing them tonight. She truly did look happy, and Joel prayed she would be in her marriage.
"Thank you so much, sir. I hope you approve of our engagement," Todd says.
Joel almost forgot that it was customary for a man to ask for his daughter's hand to get the father's approval of the marriage. "I think you two make a great couple. I'm looking forward to having you as part of the family, Todd," Joel says and then stands up. He taps his wine glass to get the group's attention. Everyone at the table quiets quickly and turns to him.
"I want to congratulate Sarah and Todd on their engagement. May they find happiness in each other and enjoy each other's company for many years to come." Sarah's friends all clap at this statement. Once the quiet returns he starts again. “As my engagement gift to the couple, I would like to throw you two an engagement party at my home here in the Bahamas."
This announcement receives a very excited response from all of Sarah's friends. Sarah's face is beaming at all of the attention she is getting. She smiles and stands up to make an announcement of her own. Joel notices she shakes her head gracefully from side to side, causing the earrings to catch the light. She is an expert at showing off wealth; no wonder she’s doing so well as an influencer.
“Thank you so much, Daddy! I'm so glad you approve, and an engagement party will be the perfect way to announce to the world that I'm about to be married. I am so excited about the upcoming wedding, and I would be honoured if all of you were part of our wedding party." Sarah is met with murmurs of agreement from the men and squeals of excitement from the women present. She sits down with a huge smile, clearly pleased with the group's reactions. “Daddy, can you hire some professional photographers for the engagement party? I need some really good pictures to post."
“Of course," Joel says.
“I wish we could have gotten some great shots of the actual engagement, but Todd didn't think about that part of it," Sarah says, with a hint of annoyance in her voice.
“I'm sorry, sweetheart, but I told you it wasn't exactly planned. We had such an amazing day, and it just felt like the right time," Todd says defensively.
“I'm marrying a true romantic," Sarah says, resting her chin on Todd's shoulder.
“Is there anything else you two need?" Joel asks, trying his best to be supportive.
“I’ll need to pick one more bridesmaid so we have even numbers," Sarah says to Joel.
“Why not ask your old roomate?" Joel asks, confused as to why Sarah isn't planning on asking her most likable and attractive friend.
“Oh, I didn't notice that she wasn't here for my announcement. That sort of works out for the best, though. I’m going to ask someone different. She doesn't really fit into the vision I have for the wedding," Sarah says, sounding very much like a snob.
“And what exactly is your vision for the wedding?" Joel asks, annoyed with his daughter's uncouth response.
“I want everything to be glamorous," Sarah says as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I'll still invite her, but as part of the wedding party, you have to fit the aesthetic."
“That's true; it's not like she would be comfortable with the level of finery at the wedding anyway. It’s very obvious that she’s lower class. I think our guests would be able to sense that. If she can't afford to buy a new dress for her birthday party, it's not likely that she will be able to afford a bridesmaid's dress anyway," Todd says with a smug smile on his face.
Sarah giggles and then turns to talk to the woman next to her about possible venues for the wedding.
“Didn't you just meet her this week?" Joel asks Joel in a low voice.
“Yeah, Sarah told me they went to college together or something," Todd says and takes a bite off his plate.
“Then how would you know she couldn't afford a new dress for her birthday party?" Joel says with quiet suspicion.
Todd's eyes go wide in shock, and he nearly chokes on the food in his mouth. He takes a few moments to recover and then says, “I think Sarah told me that. She went to her birthday, and she had to borrow a dress because she couldn't afford a new one."
Although Joel doesn't doubt that Sarah would gossip about something as petty as not being able to afford a new dress, he finds it odd that Todd would remember something like that. Todd's reaction tells Joel that he is hiding something, and Joel's suspicion is only increased by his quick shift to join Sarah's conversation.
Do you and Todd know each other outside of Sarah?
Joel eats the rest of his meal in silence and makes an excuse about having work to do to get out of the rest of the evening's activities. Instead of heading back to his room, he goes to the captain to tell him about the change of plans. 
After Joel's conversation with the captain, he makes his way to his office, which is located a floor below the guest rooms. He thinks about going and checking on you but decides it is best to let you get some sleep.
Joel's office on the yacht is a carbon copy of his office at home. It has a large wooden desk in the center and a large dark leather armchair. The only difference is the view is spectacularly better on the yacht. A large windowed balcony sits behind the desk, so Joel can watch the ocean as he works.
Joel sinks into his leather chair and opens the laptop on his desk. A notification glows on the screen, informing him of the one hundred and twenty-seven emails waiting in his inbox. He pulls out his phone instead and finds his event planner's phone number in his contacts.
“Hello, this is Jessica of Jessica's events."
“Jessica, this is Joel Miller."
“Mr. Miller, it’s great to hear from you again. To what do I owe this pleasure?"
“I'm calling to see if you can organize a party for me. My daughter just got engaged, and I want to throw her an engagement party at my home in the Bahamas."
“Congratulations, Mr. Miller. I would love to help plan such a happy occasion. When can I pencil in your event?"
“Two days from now," he says, knowing the absurdity of the request.
“Did I hear you right? You want me to plan an entire event in two days?"
“If anyone can do it, it's you, Jessica. I’m willing to pay double."
“You have always known how to close a deal. I will have everything ready for you, Mr. Miller. Does your daughter have a theme in mind?”
Joel hates that he has to say it out loud, “She said the theme of her wedding is…glamor."
He hears a small giggle escape from Jessica on the other end of the phone, and she quickly tries to cover it with a cough.
“I know how it sounds," Joel says, embarrassed. “That’s why I am trusting you with this event. I know you will make it tasteful. After the engagement party, I’ll have Sarah talk with you about wedding plans."
“That sounds great, Mr. Miller. I will see you in two days."
“Thank you very much. Goodbye," Joel says and hangs up the phone. This wedding is going to be expensive, and Joel already expects to foot the bill for everything. Extravagant is one thing, but Sarah's taste is beyond even that.
Joel turns his attention back to his laptop screen and the blinking email notification, but he can't get you out of his head. Instead of working, he pulls up his social media pages and searches for your name. He quickly finds your social media pages. You're not very active; most of your pictures are candid shots of you and your friends, two women that looke kind and a lot more down-to-earth than his own daughter.
Joels slightly disappointed that you don't have more pictures for him to scroll through and very little about your life. He wants to know more about you, but it seems like you're very private with your online presence.
He sighs and closes the social media pages, finally returning to the emails he’s dreading sorting through. The newest email in his inbox makes his heart sink. It's from an unknown sender and contains a single sentence.
I know who I really am, and the whole world will, too, if you don't meet my demands.
"I am a normal person," you say again, smiling as you walk with Reggie. He raises an eyebrow skeptically at you.
"You don't believe me?" you ask.
"Right, because us normal people get invited to one of the largest private yachts in the world as guests all the time. You don't have to pretend you're not rich to fit in with the crew. They will like you because you are actually nice," Reggie says.
"I am the furthest thing from rich," you laugh.
"Oh, yeah? Prove it," Reggie says with a teasing smile on his face.
You quickly pull out your phone and find a picture of you and your two roommates in your apartment and show it to Reggie.
"What does this prove?" he asks.
"This is a picture of me and my two roommates, Lin and Aubrey; we are sitting in the living room of our one-bedroom apartment. I’m a bartender at a little dive bar, and I currently have two hundred and thirty dollars in my bank account," you say matter of factly.
Reggie's expression changes from one of teasing to one of shock.
"Are you serious?" he asks.
"I mean, I can pull up a bank statement if you really want," you say with a smile.
"Then how did you end up as one of Sarah's friends?"
"Sarah and I were roommates during our first few years at NYU. I think Sarah was placed in the regular dorm rooms to teach her what it was like to be a regular person or something," you say, only half joking. You still haven't figured that one out. Maybe her dad was trying to teach her a life lesson. "Anyway, she hated it and dropped out her sophomore year, but we remained friends and have been in and out of touch over the years. She randomly invited me on this vacation, and I accepted. I didn't expect the yacht to be quite this big, though."
Once you are done with your explanation, you are on the lowest floor of the yacht. You're surprised at how nice the staff area is. Perhaps you'd been expecting it to be like a scene from the lower decks of the movie 'Titanic,' but the lowest level of the ship looks like walking into a lobby of a four-star hotel.
You make your way into what must be the staff dining room. There’s a large group of people surrounding a circular table in the middle of a game of cards. Music is playing in the background, and snacks and beer litter the table. It looks like this is going to be the most comfortable you've been on your trip so far.
"Everyone be nice; we have a newcomer," Reggie says as he pulls out a chair for you.
The mood changes slightly as you sit down, and Reggie sits next to you. You realize you’re still wearing the sundress that Joel bought you, and you must look like you are made of money.
"Hey, I'm Max," says a man with black hair and olive skin.
"Hey, Max," you stick your hand out to shake his and you introduce yourself. 
"Nice to meet you. Tell us about yourself."
"There isn't much to tell. I'm a bartender at a little hole-in-the-wall in New York, and I'm trying to put myself through law school," you say nonchalantly.
"What bar?" a girl across the table asks.
"It's called McGregor's."
"No way! I've been there before," Max says. “You have the best nachos!"
You laugh. “Yeah, we do. I would eat an entire plate by myself if no one were watching."
You feel the entire table relax as they all realize that you aren't like the rest of the guests on the yacht.
"What are we playing?" you ask, grabbing a handful of popcorn.
"Strip Poker."
Your throat goes dry at the thought of undressing in front of a room full of strangers. You're afraid to swallow the piece of popcorn you just placed in your mouth. You look around, and everyone is still fully clothed, and your heart rate starts to slow. Max smiles, clearly finding enjoyment in your shock.
"Max, don't scare her off already," Reggie chuckles. “Do you want a beer?”
“You wouldn't believe what one of the 'Richies' asked me today,” Brenna says
"Oh, this is going to be good. Brenna always has the best stories," Reggie leans over and whispers to you. After a few beers and a hand or two of actual poker, everyone seems completely at ease with you.
"I was cleaning up a wine glass he'd dropped, and he started hitting on me. Obviously, he has no idea what the real world is like, so he starts asking questions as a way to talk to me."
"Oh no," Max says with a laugh.
"He asked me about living on the bottom deck of the yacht, and I tell him how it takes some getting used to because we are below the water down here. Then he asks me how we use our balconies if they're underwater."
You snort into your glass, glad you hadn't been taking a sip of the beer at the moment, or it would be flowing out of your nose. You set your beer down and ask, "Oh, please tell me you had a good comeback."
She smiles brightly, "I told him we could only use them at low tide. Then he nods and says, 'That makes sense.' I swear they are all clueless."
Brenna starts laughing, and the whole table joins in, but by the time you catch your breath, you have tears in the corners of your eyes. You have not laughed like this the entire time you've been on the ship.
"No offense; I know Sarah is your friend and all, but how do you stand spending time with them?" Max asks.
"Oh, trust me, it’s a challenge. I sneak off by myself whenever I get the chance. No one seems to really notice, especially after Sarah's engagement."
"Oh, man, her fiance is a real tool, isn't he?" Brenna adds.
"He's a social climber too, so they are actually a great fit," Charlotte says. Charlotte is one of the older staff members and hasn't said much throughout the night.
"Well, that makes sense about the fiance, but do you mean Sarah is one too?" Max asks.
They seem to have forgotten that you are there, or at least they forget that you know Sarah personally. However, you keep your mouth shut not because you want to know more, but because you are trying to act as if you don't care too much.
"I started working for Mr. Miller when Sarah and the horrible woman she has as a mother first came around. That same day, the staff was all told that Sarah was Mr. Miller's daughter and to make sure she had everything she needed. Marnie, Sarah's mother, spent the whole day ordering the staff around like she was the owner of the house," said Charlotte.
"From my experience with Marnie, that sounds about right," Max offers.
"Sarah was raised by another man by the name of Winston Radcliff. Some of the staff had been around when Mr. Miller first brought Marnie around. The rumor was that Marnie threw Mr. Miller aside for Radcliff right after she found out she was pregnant because Radcliff could offer her a better position in society."
You can't imagine someone who had the chance to be with Joel choosing another person over him. You can't help but ask, "What did Winston offer that Joel couldn't?"
"Radcliff was the next in line for an earldom. It turned out that the earldom came with a shabby little estate that cost Winston his fortune to keep standing. The marriage quickly turned sour, and when the earl died, Marnie was just as quick to get a paternity test for Sarah."
"In my opinion, Mr. Miller was better off not knowing the truth. Marnie always shows up asking for more money. Sarah has always wanted something, even though Mr. Miller buys her more than she could ever need." Charlotte says.
"Was Joel in love with Marnie?" you ask, not knowing if you really want the answer.
"No, I don't think he ever really loved her. Maybe he could have found a woman right for him if Marnie hadn't been around for the last fourteen years, scaring away every decent woman he has dated. She thinks that if she can keep him single long enough, he will fall back in love with her, but Mr. Miller will never forgive her for what she did."
You nod and turn to see Reggie staring at you with a strange, almost hurt look on his face. He turns away from you before you can ask him what's wrong.
"Well, I think I'm going to head to bed," Brenna says, and the others all stand up to follow.
"You should come play cards with us again," Max says.
"Absolutely! We are here every night, and you are welcome to join us," Brenna adds.
"Thank you. I will." You're happy to know they've welcomed you as one of them.
You say a quick goodnight to everyone and head back up the stairs to the upper decks. Reggie's room is on the lower deck, so you walk by yourself. It must be later than you thought because the lights in the pool area are already turned off.
You feel silly rushing across the dark deck, but it makes you sort of nervous being alone on such a big ship. You're careful to avoid the deck chairs this time, and you're relieved to make it to the doors leading into the guestroom corridor.
"Where the hell have you been?"
You stop dead in your tracks and don't want to turn around. You know that tone of voice from countless arguments. It's Todd, the last person on the entire ship that you want to be alone with. You slowly turn, knowing you're going to have to face him eventually.
He stumbles a step towards you, and you back up to avoid a collision if he falls.
"Are you drunk?"
"I believe I asked a question first," Todd stutters.
"I was playing a game of cards with some of the crew."
Todd laughs and rolls his eyes at you. He again stumbles a little closer, and you're trapped between him and your door. He leans forward and places an arm on either side of you, blocking your escape. You can smell the alcohol on his breath as he laughs. He's beyond drunk.
"Just like you. A yacht full of every thing you could want, and you spend your time with the help."
"Get off of me, Todd!"
"You know you still want me," Todd says, lowering his face closer to yours. You push against his chest, trying to get him off.
Todd is suddenly ripped backward, so forcefully you know it wasn't of his own doing. 
You see Joel standing behind Todd with a fist full of his shirt. “Get your ass to bed before I throw you off my ship."
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btsqualityy · 2 days
Text
BTS Dating Series #17: Pet Peeves
Members x Reader
Genre/Rate: 18+, fluff
Summary: Little things that just....annoy you or him about each other.
Warnings: None to note.
Kim Seokjin
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You threw your body into a chair in the corner of your bedroom, folding your arms across your chest as Jin stared at you incredulously. The two of you had been in a somewhat heated disagreement and once you started to feel yourself becoming overwhelmed, you chose to just...stop talking in an effort to calm yourself.
"Are you really gonna not say anything else?" Jin wondered, huffing harshly when you only responded with further silence. "You know, that's another thing that you do that I hate."
"What?" You couldn't help but to ask.
"Any time we have an argument or even a hard conversation, you clam up and stop talking," he explained. "That makes it almost impossible to fix anything and it also makes me feel like some type of villain."
"Oh," you murmured, looking down at your feet. "I didn't realize that it made you feel that way. I just..."
"What?" Jin encouraged as he stepped over to you and bent down so that he was looking up at you.
"In past relationships, whenever I would get chastised or yelled at, I found that not saying anything helped to not escalate things," you admitted, finally looking up at your boyfriend. "I don't want things to escalate with you, Jin."
"Oh baby," he murmured, grabbing your hands and bringing them both up to his mouth, pressing soft kisses to them before he pulled them away to speak. "You never have to worry about that with me. Whenever we're disagreeing about something, it's never me against you. It's us against the problem, ok? It doesn't mean that I hate you or that I don't want to be with you because that would never be the case, ok?"
"Ok," you nodded. "I'm sorry for shutting down on you. I'll do my best to work on that."
"Ok," Jin agreed. "I love you."
"I love you too," you replied before leaning down and kissing him softly.
Min Yoongi
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"Are you fucking serious right now?" Yoongi chuckled in disbelief and you barely spared him a glance from your spot on his living room couch. You and Yoongi had planned to spend the whole weekend together since it was one of his rare ones off. However, he got called into the studio at the last minute and had to go handle it before you two headed out on your planned date for the day.
Now, that wasn't a problem for you whatsoever because Yoongi said he'd text you when he was heading back home. One hour went by, then two hours and by the time the third hour rolled around, you were throughly pissed off. Once he did finally make it back to his apartment where he'd left you, you had become resolute in giving him the silent treatment.
"Do you know how childish you're acting right now?" Yoongi wondered. "I know that I told you it wouldn't take me long and I'm sorry that it did but you can't be this upset over that!"
"You cannot tell me what I can and cannot be upset over," you finally spoke up.
"Oh look, she speaks." You glared at him, throwing him the middle finger before you folded your arms across your chest. All Yoongi could do was groan loudly as he ran his hands over his face, becoming more irritated as time went on.
"Listen, I do not do well with the silent treatment and I hate it when you do this so if you want me to fix it, you're going to have to cooperate and talk to me or else I won't be able to," he shrugged. "Up to you." You sighed heavily then, knowing that you were being petty and that your boyfriend was right.
"I'm sorry," you murmured. "I just got upset when you took longer than you said you would. Made it feel like you forgot about me."
"I could never forget about you," he cooed, bending down so that he was squatting in front of you as he took your hands in his to hold. "I'm sorry that I didn't keep you in the loop. I'll make sure to be more mindful of that, ok?" You nodded with a smile, surging forward and throwing your arms around him in a hug.
Kim Namjoon
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"If you would just listen to me, I'd be able to explain it to you!" You exclaimed angrily as you stared at Namjoon, who was standing on the other side of the island in your kitchen. The two of you had been cooking dinner together when you made what was intended to be a light hearted joke about his cooking skills. However, Namjoon didn't take it that way at all which led to a full blown argument.
"You can be so flippant when you say certain things to me, you know?" Namjoon pointed out.
"Me, flippant?" You scoffed, throwing your hands up in immediate surrender. "And on that note, I need some space." You turned around and began to walk out of the kitchen but you realized that you could hear footsteps behind you.
"And that's another thing," Namjoon snapped. "Anytime we get into an argument or fight, you insist on walking away."
"Because I need space!" You shouted as you turned around to look at him. "I literally just said that or were you not listening?"
"We're not gonna fix anything if you keep doing that."
"But we're also not going to fix anything if I can't take the space I need to calm down so that I'm not escalating the situation," you explained. "I know you wanna talk it out but just....give me a little while."
"Fine," Namjoon relented and he turned around and walked away before you even had the chance to say another word.
Jung Hoseok
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"It was so good to see you!" Hobi smiled to Juhyun, who grinned widely as Hobi gave her a gentle hug.
"It was good to see you as well, Hobi," she replied before turning around and walking out of the store. Hobi walked back over to you then, where you had been pretending to browse the store's selection of shoes but you had really been eavesdropping on their conversation.
"See anything you might like?" Hobi asked you and you shrugged noncommittally, biting your lip before you decided to just take the risk and ask what was on your mind.
"Can I ask you something?" You wondered.
"Anything."
"Are you still friends with all of your exes?" You questioned and Hobi rose an eyebrow.
"Well, I don't know if friends is the word I'd really use to describe it," he began. "Even if we broke up, none of them were necessarily on bad terms or anything like that so it's not hard for me to speak to them whenever I might see them."
"Hmm," you murmured and Hobi couldn't help but to smile at you.
"Jealous?"
"Don't know if jealous is really the word I'd use," you replied, echoing his previous statement. "But it does make me feel weird that you're.....so friendly. I don't like it."
"So, should I keep it to a hi and bye?" He asked. "And no hugs?"
"That actually would be nice," you nodded.
"Done," Hobi grinned. "Now, come on. I wanted to check out another store while we're here." You smiled to yourself as Hobi grabbed your hand and led you out of the store.
Park Jimin
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You were laid out in Jimin's bed, waiting for him to get home from rehearsal. You had had an extremely long day at work so needless to say, you were more than excited to see your boyfriend so that you could get all the cuddles that you could handle.
As you were browsing the internet on your laptop, you heard the front door open and close and not long after that, Jimin was pushing open the door to the bedroom.
"Hi Jimin-ssi," you greeted him happily, watching as he threw his bag down and instantly walked over to the closet.
"Hi baby," he muttered as he worked on changing out of his dance clothes and into more comfortable ones. As he did this, you closed the laptop and set it on the bedside table before you laid down on your side. Once Jimin was done changing, he walked over to the bed and laid down on his back, shutting his eyes and not saying a word.
"How was your day?" You spoke up and Jimin just shrugged, eyes still closed.
"Same old, same old."
"Did you guys finish learning the choreography to that new song you showed me?" You wondered and Jimin nodded. "Aw, I'm sure it's amazing. I can't wait to see it." Jimin still hadn't said a word and you sighed heavily. "Jimin, what's wrong?"
"Nothing," he deadpanned. "I'm fine."
"Baby, you're obviously not fine," you replied gently. "I'm willing to listen if you want to talk."
"Well, I don't want to talk," he grunted. "Just leave me alone."
"You know, I was really looking forward to you getting here because I had a long day too and all I wanted was to cuddle with you but if you're going to be a jerk just because you're in a shitty mood, then I'll just go home," you snapped and just as you moved to rip the blanket off of your body, Jimin gently grabbed your arm.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "It was just a hard day and I didn't mean to take it out on you."
"And that's fair that you didn't feel like talking but don't clam up on me," you murmured as you turned around to face him. "I'm here to help, always."
"I know," he smiled gently. "Come here." He opened his arms and you moved closer to him, allowing him to wrap his arms around you as he held your body tightly to his. "I love you."
"I love you too," you whispered, smiling to yourself when you felt him kiss your forehead.
Kim Taehyung
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"Oh my gosh, you know what we should do tonight?" Taehyung asked you and you looked up at him from your spot next to him on his couch. The two of you had planned on just having a date night in but apparently, Taehyung had other ideas.
"What?"
"We should get dressed and go to that new jazz club that just opened last month," he suggested and you instantly grimaced. "What is it?"
"I don't know about that," you replied. "I was kind of looking forward to staying in."
"But we've been doing that for so many weekends now," he pointed out. "It might be fun to get out, have a little change of scenery."
"Hmm, I don't think so," you shook your head and your eyes widened when you heard Taehyung sigh heavily.
"Why don't you ever want to go out?" He demanded to know. "I could probably count on one hand how often we've been out together, just to do something fun."
"I'm a homebody," you shrugged. "I've always preferred to be home to than go out to some club or something like that."
"And I fully respect that but couldn't we do it sometimes?" He suggested. "Just occasionally?"
"You know what, yeah," you agreed. "I promise, I'll try to make sure that we do more of the things you enjoy too, ok?"
"Thank you," Taehyung grinned widely before leaning over and kissing you firmly.
Jeon Jungkook
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"What the hell?" You muttered as you picked pieces of clothes up off of the living room floor. "Has a man been staying with me or a fucking animal?" In an effort to spend more time together, Jungkook had been spending more time at your apartment and he had definitely made himself comfortable in your space. Maybe even a little...too comfortable.
"Baby, I have lamb skewers!" Jungkook exclaimed as he stepped through the front door of your apartment, one bag in each hand as he shut the door with his foot. He stopped right in his tracks though when he saw you standing in the middle of the living room with an unamused look on your face. "What's wrong?"
"No, the problem is what's wrong with you?" You demanded to know. "Have you never seen a hamper? Do you not know what it looks like so that you can put your clothes in it?"
"No, those are my clean clothes," he told you.
"Why are they on the floor then?"
"Because I didn't want them to get mixed up with my dirty ones," he shrugged, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Why not just put the dirty in the- you know what, no," you cut yourself off. "I'm not even gonna attempt to understand male logic. Just give me my skewers, please."
"Here you go," Jungkook smiled, waiting until you had dropped the clothes in your hands before he handed one of the bags off to you. "I love you."
"Yeah yeah, love you too, messy animal," you grumbled, making Jungkook laugh out loud.
..........................................................
Tag List: @addictedtohobi @brittneymccray @cursedcursives @arata18nanami @leftieaquarius @devilsbooksworld @starmyy @werewolfbanshee-love @li-moonchild-il @kpop-servant @cheysjimin
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star-hoon · 1 day
Text
OBSESSED (p. sunghoon) — PART 2
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I’M SO OBSESSED WITH YOUR EX
READ PART 1 HERE — MASTERLIST
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pairing: sunghoon x fem reader
includes/warnings (18+): best friend’s ex! au, eventual smut (mdni), praise kink, dirty talk, unprotected sex (pls don't), ANGST, profanity, arguing, broken friendship (sorta)  (let me know if i missed anything!)
word count: 4.3k
synopsis: after sage catches you and sunghoon at the party, things change between all three of you. hidden emotions are unveiled and everyone does something they regret. the real question is...who?
author's note: omg thank you SO much to every person who read part 1! i'm so glad you guys liked it. this is dedicated to everyone who commented/requested for part 2 <3 you guys r all so sweet *hugs n squeezes*. pls look forward to my future works!
OBSESSED SOUNDTRACK
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“SUNGHOON?!” both you and the raven haired boy whipped your heads in direction of his name that didn’t even get the chance to leave his lips.
holy. fuck. it was sage.
the sound of red solo cup hitting the pavement seemed to echo despite the bass of the party still booming from the house with the silence that fell between all three of you.
you were an absolute deer-in-headlights taking her equally shocked and disgusted expression. she's never looked at you like that.
you and sunghoon instantly push off each other; you flattening down your skirt and he combed through his hair, as if that would help both of your situations right now.
you felt as if you had blood all over your hands at a crime scene. what the fuck?! out of all the boys on the damn planet it had to be him?!
sunghoon. sunghoon. you just made out with park sunghoon. SAGE'S park sunghoon. your best friend's ex.
his name and sage's expression replayed in your mind. you were so. screwed.
you could feel your heartbeat in your ears and it felt difficult to breathe. so much so, you barely heard sunghoon be the first to say something.
"s-sage? h-h-hey uh how have you been? shit that must have been awkward for you to have seen that. jake didn't tell me he invited you..."
sage completely ignored sunghoon's remark, tunnel visioning on you.
"you've GOT to be kidding me y/n..." she rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, slowly approaching you.
you felt like a child who had just been scolded. you wracked your brain for something to say, but nothing came out. despite how close you two were, sage always intimidated you. she could be stubborn and had a short temper, that thankfully you've learned to tame over the past year. but you knew this was beyond anything you could save yourself from.
"l-look sage i-i'm sorry okay, i can explain-"
"shit- wait you two know each other?!" sunghoon interjected. he had no idea what he just got himself into.
sage broke into laughter, clutching her stomach for dramatic effect. "wow this just got FUN didn't it?! let's play a little game. on the count of three, say how you know the person to your left. and it's okay if a word doesn't come to mind."
the last sentence clearly meant for sunghoon.
her tone of voice was honestly scaring you at this point, and you could sense that both you and her were internally reeling at the words that will be spoken into reality.
best friend. ex. .....
you just stood there frozen and sunghoon turned to you, seeing your mortified expression.
even though you and him just met, he already felt protective over you and with how psychotic his ex was acting...he knew things weren't right. he stepped slightly between you and sage, trying to guard you from her piercing gaze.
but she was one step ahead and moved even more to her left so she was still fully in your line of vision.
"what the fuck is going on sage? just answer the goddamn qu-"
sage cut sunghoon off once again, "3..2..1"
"best friend. ex. ....." you and sage responded in unison.
it was silent for just a moment, as you all stared at one another.
"well glad we got THAT out of the way, hope that answered your question hoonie-" you recoiled at her use of the nickname. she was bluffing and it just made you angry at this point.
"how the fuck was i supposed to know he's sunghoon?! i swear on my life you walked by right as i asked his name-" hot tears started to blur your vision.
people walking by were staring and whispering but you couldn't give less of a shit. she scoffed at what she only believed was an excuse.
"oh give. it. up. y/n! you know what, that's the problem with you. you ALWAYS act so innocent and like you're just the shy girl next door. i know you've always been jealous me. so much so you basically fucked my ex aka the first guy you saw at a party. who would have guessed how much of a slut you are."
tears started to run rampant down your cheeks. you couldn't believe sage would say all of this to you. is that how she really felt?
she walked up and leaned down to whisper something in your ear before walking off, the clicking sound of her heeled boots fading.
you just stood there and covered your face, the tears never stopping. you just couldn't look sunghoon or anyone in the eye after how embarrassed and humiliated you felt.
"hey hey... shhh baby it's okay" sunghoon removing your hands from your face, using his thumbs to gently wipe the ruined mascara from your cheeks. the pet name just rubbed salt in the wound.
he comforted you with soft kisses to your cheeks. he knew you weren't okay, how could you be after all of that? but he didn't quite know else to do or say in this situation.
you shoved him off of you. sage's whispered words ringing in your ears.
"i'm sorry sunghoon, i- i have to go. this was a total mistake-" your hiccuping voice barely getting the words out. you couldn't even look him in the eye and you just wanted to be anywhere else but there.
"wait y/n" he grabbed your wrist before you could run away from him. "look i get it if you never want to see me again after this, but the least i can do is give you a ride home."
your lip quivered as you stared up at him. the way he looked at you was so gentle, a stark contrast to how he looked at sage just a moment ago. it made your heart ache.
usually you would just brush off the offer but you were such a wreck, you knew you were in no state to make it home by yourself.
you just gave him a silent nod and you two walked to sunghoon's car in silence.
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the silence persisted throughout the drive, aside from sunghoon asking for your address. sunghoon knew better than to ask questions.
your mind was anything from quiet, sage's whispered words replaying in your mind like a broken record.
"enjoy my sloppy seconds y/n, oh yeah...remember how i told you he said i was the best he's ever had?"
the sound of sunghoon opening his car door being the only thing snapping you out of your daze. he circled the car and opened your door for you.
"it's pretty late so i'll walk you to your door?"
'what a gentlemen' you thought. you felt like you were cinderella and he was your prince. but this was no fairytale.
you walked up the stairs, sunghoon trailing behind you. you stared at the faded blue paint of your apartment and turned around to part ways with sunghoon.
"thanks uh- for the ride. i'm sorry the night turned out like this-"
"i'm sorry about what sage said to you. she was hella out of line calling you those things..." you cringed at the memory. "...but what was the last thing she said to you?" you knew he was referring to what she whispered to you before she walked off.
you could not look him in the eye and tell him.
"she just told me to never text her again" you were sure your performance was convincing.
"y/n, please. tell me what she said. i know sage. i don't know what your guys' friendship's like, but if it's anything like while her and i were dating, she chooses her words wisely. she knows exactly what to say—especially if it's to hurt you."
shit, he read you like a book. you knew sage too. and you knew she would never lie or keep a secret from you—what she said must have been true.
"don't worry, that's what she said to me, promise."
he could tell you were lying, but you've been through enough in one night—he didn't want to cause a fuss.
"okay, just making sure" he huffed out a defeated sigh. "like i said, i get it if you never want to see again. but here's my number. i live only about a 5 minute drive from here so just in case you need anything or if anything with sage comes up, just gimme a call."
you stared down at his phone, contemplating for a few moments, but you eventually comply. a faint smile creeps on sunghoon's lips.
"for what it's worth y/n...i don't think tonight was a mistake. you made that party a hell of a lot more fun..." he chuckled trying to lighten the mood.
you couldn't bring yourself to quite say the same to him, so you just gave him a soft smile.
"thanks again sunghoon, goodnight."
you entered you apartment and made your way to your couch. you laid down and the threw your arm over your face, feeling tears threatening to fall once again.
you just curled up and drifted off to sleep, not even bothering to change your clothes or get ready for bed.
the only thing keeping you from losing your mind was the thought of sleep.
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you woke up the next morning (much to your dismay) and barely made it through the day.
you and sage have never fought like this. you both swore to never let something as stupid as a boy get between you two. so many questions swirled in your head.
is that really how sage felt about you all this time?
you get why she's pissed, but is she not even willing to hear you out?
is she willing to let go of your guys' friendship that fast?
you filled your day cleaning your apartment and running way too many errands—being busy always helped you in times of stress. eventually the sun was setting through the blinds covering your bedroom window.
you had no idea how to handle this entire thing. and it was something you certainly didn't want to deal with alone.
you stare down at your phone biting the inside of your lip, your finger hovering over screen.
you knew this could make things that much more complicated, but you needed someone talk to.
calling 'park sunghoon'....
after a few rings, he finally picked up. your heart was beating out of your chest.
"hey, may i ask who's calling?"
"h-hi s-sunghoon, it's y'n"
there was a pause. you were cringing at yourself for stuttering so much, little did you know sunghoon was smiling like an idiot from the other end.
"hey y/n, didn't think you'd actually call...wait did something happen? did sage do anything to you?" concern suddenly lacing his tone.
"no not all. i was just calling to talk, i'm just super stressed about all of this..."
he let out sigh of relief, he thought you could have been hurt.
"aw i'm sorry, yeah that makes sense. did you want to talk in person? i can come over."
"yeah, that'd actually be great, thanks." you heard the sound of him picking up his keys.
"of course, i'll be there 5"
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you open your front door after hearing a few soft knocks. you couldn't help but bite your lip at the sight front of you.
sunghoon wore a black hoodie, gray sweatpants, and glasses. a simple outfit but oh was it effective. you had to refrain from jumping on him right then and there.
"h-hey, thanks for coming over. sorry it was so late minute. please come in" you stepping aside and guiding him inside your apartment.
"yeah no problem. no need to apologize y/n, i was the one who offered to talk in person"
you just let out a soft laugh in response, cringing at your over-apologetic tendencies.
sunghoon smiled quietly watched you, finding it absolutely adorable how cute you were trying to be a good host. despite him being the one asking to come over and you two doing not so innocent things just the previous night.
you sit next to sunghoon on the couch. he scanned around your apartment, taking in all of your cute decor and trinkets.
"your apartment is so...cute. never would have guessed based on how you were acting last night" he smirked, teasing you.
you felt flustered as you felt your cheeks heat up.
"oh thanks" you looked down at your feet feeling shy. "yeah honestly i never really do that kinda thing at parties but i don't know, guess last night was different".
different he thought.
he just hummed in acknowledgment as a comfortable silence fell between you. it felt as if you both sucked in a breath in unison.
"y/n-"
"i-"
he speaks first, "of course you can rant to me about however you're feeling, but after thinking it over, i don't think you're in the wrong here y/n."
"she's my best friend sunghoon. and you're her ex boyfriend. is that not the first rule of girl code? i'm sure same thing applies to guys."
"okay sure i guess..." he licks his lips as he contemplates his next words "but sage and i broke up over a year ago. whatever we had, it's long gone. and unless she has lingering feelings for me, which i can tell she certainly doesn't, she should be more mature about this"
you nod silently, agree with everything he was saying.
"...and i know you were telling the truth when you told you had no idea it was me. because she quite literally was passing by as you asked for my name. so i genuinely think you did nothing wrong here"
"yeah that's true i guess" there's a pause as you take in his words.
"can i tell you what sage actually said to me last night?" you felt comfortable enough with him now to tell him and now were just more curious more than anything if what sage said was true.
"sage told me that you said she was the best you've ever had and i can enjoy her 'sloppy seconds'" you air-quoted the last two words with your fingers.
sunghoon's silence made your heart pound even faster. was it actually true? if so, this just made you even more embarrassed.
he eventually just scoffed which turned into a breathy laugh.
"oh man, sage sure is funny." he shakes his head at what you assume is disbelief. "i'm not sure if she got me mixed up with another park sunghoon, but i never said that."
you felt a huge weight was taken off your chest. sunghoon caught your sigh of relief.
"i'll be honest though, sage and i dated for a good amount of time, but i mean clearly we broke up for a reason. and i cannot stress enough that i do not have feelings for her at all. especially not after meeting you."
he puts his large palm on your knee, rubbing it soothingly.
you look down at the comforting gesture, a single tear falls down onto the back of his hand.
what the hell, why were you crying? sure, you were stressed about the situation but you didn't think it made upset enough to make you cry.
you had been beating yourself up about all of this since sage said those harsh words to you. you had started to believe that maybe what she said was true and that an ordinary girl like you had no business with a guy as like sunghoon. feelings of embarrassment, frustration, and guilt were eating you alive.
but after hearing sunghoon be in your corner, him saying you did nothing wrong, and finding out sage made up what she said somehow made you feel forgiven.
the small salty puddle on sunghoon's hand surprised you just as much as it did him.
he turns to meet your eyes, making you look at him "hey, what's wrong?" he pouts at your misty eyes, wiping the second stray tear before it could fall on your cheek.
"i-i'm sorry i don't even know why i'm crying. this whole thing was taking a bigger toll on me than i thought. just thank yo-"
he couldn't resist and crashes his lips into yours. his hand coming cradle the side of your face.
you let out a noise of surprise, not expecting him to kiss you so suddenly. you surrendered to him quickly though, not realizing how much you missed the taste of his lips. he deepend the kiss, his hand creeping up to thread through the hair at your nape neck, pulling slightly.
you let out a soft moan at the feeling, your parted lips leaving the perfect opportunity for him to slip is tongue into your mouth.
the sound of your lips smacking and heavy breathing filled the room. the heavy makeout eventually left you breathless. he pulled away but you still chased his lips.
he rested his forehead against yours signaling you he needed a breather. the eye contact and tension felt suffocating—the way you looked at him made his heart burst. your eyes were shiny were so shiny and wide, anticipating his next move. your cheeks flushed and lips slightly parted. your tank top and cotton shorts made his mind run wild. but he wanted to explore what was underneath.
he reached to remove your tank top and bra, and your shorts not long after leaving you in just your panties. he took off his shirt and hoodie, leaving him in just his sweats. the sight alone made you soaked through your panties.
he took in the sight on your almost bare figure on top of his, reaching to grope and feel your body. he attached his lips to your neck, sucking and biting the same sensitive spots he remembered from last night "you drive me fucking crazy y/n" he whispered against your skin.
his lips wandered down from your neck to your chest eventually taking a nipple into his mouth, the feeling of his hot tongue driving your desire for even into oblivion. he made sure to attend to the other one by pinching it with his other hand.
"f-fuck s-sunghoon..."
you began to grind on him, feeling his dick already hard through his sweatpants. his veiny hands wandered to the flesh of your outer thighs and hips, gripping your skin tightly savoring the feeling of your skin against his.
you pressed harder against him, finding the right rhythm of your hips on his, making him throw his head back, his eyes rolling slightly. the delicious sensation of your grinding his boner making him bite his lip staring at you. he crossed his arms behind his head, making his defined muscular arms even more prominent in the dim lighting of the room.
"yeah, grind on that dick baby, feel how hard i am for you?... see what you do to me?" his voice lower than normal, laced with nothing but lust.
"p-please..." you whined, his words making you work your hips even more fervently against his.
understanding your plea, he guided your back to lay flat on the couch climbing on top you, his arms on both sides of your head. the cold metal his delicate silver chain grazed the skin of your chest and neck, contrasting your hot skin.
you pulled him by the chain to kiss you again, your hands feeling his chest and biceps. his hands felt up your body once again, taking in every curve and dip from your breast to your hips, eventually playing with the hem on your panties.
"may i, sweetheart?" god, was he trying to make you fall in love with him?
you gave him a nod biting your lip. he slowly pulled your lace panties down your legs, creating a string of sticky arousal. you had never been so turned on in your life.
his fingertips ghosting the skin of your thighs, eyeing your bare body under his. you started to suddenly feel shy under his intense gaze, hiding your face in your arm and closing your thighs.
he gently pulled your arm away and tapped your knees to part your legs.
"don't hide baby, i wanna see your face, you're so beautiful...fuck you're so wet... all for me?"
"mhm...all for you- oh fuck" you breathily moaned as his fingers circled your clit, spreading your arousal. the feeling of his fingertips alone had your head spinning. he slowly inserted his fingers into your core, your walls sucking them in.
"jesus princess, you're so tight" he groaned as thrusts his fingers languidly, your juices starting to drip onto his palm. the squelching noise echoed in the room as you squirmed beneath him.
with the way that your back was arching and your walls clenching around him, he knew you were close. "you close sweetheart? wanna come all over my fingers?"
"fuck, yes please! your fingers feel so good. i- i wanna come" you whined desperately. his fingers speeding up as his thumb expertly rubbed your clit.
"such a good girl. come for me" a few more rubs from his fingers as your walls spasmed around him.
when he finally pulled his fingers out, you whined at the suddenly empty feeling. he kissed you once again, finding you all too adorable. "you did so good for me baby, ready for my dick?"
"please sunghoon, i need you" he pulled away taking off his sweats and boxers. the sight of his perfect cock made your mouth water: it was so hard, veiny, and red. his size making you question if he would fit in you.
he quickly climbed on top of you again, giving your cheek and neck light kisses while rubbing his cock through your folds, wetting his dick. when his tip grazed your clit you couldn't help but mewl at the feeling, your hands threading through his hair.
"fuck, please put in" you begged shamelessly. he bottomed out inside of you, biting his lip as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. he let you adjust to his size before thrusting slowly but deeply.
"s-shit you're so fucking tight y/n fuck" he groaned into your neck, leaving love bites. his could feel every vein of his dick and the fullness felt so good. so right.
his hands wandered to the small of your back, making you arch into him making him hit your g-spot. you nearly screamed into his neck at the feeling. his rhythm started to falter, your kisses getting messier and you were nearing your highs.
"s-sunghoon, please i'm c-close" you said in between whines and moans.
"fuck, me too sweetheart" he has never finished so damn fast during sex before but your pussy felt like it was made for him. he rubbed your clit once again, wanting nothing more than to give you the most pleasure possible.
"come on, be a good girl and come for me. cream all over my cock baby... you're better than she ever was". his words making the knot snap in your build up of euphoria. you moaned loudly a mixture of curses and his name, waves of pleasure washing over you.
sunghoon finished not long after, pulling out and fisting his dick to cum all over your stomach and thighs—making you his. he looked down at the sight beneath him and he never wanted to look away.
your head thrown back and jaw slack, your cheeks still flushed. your heavy breathing and still sensitive body twitching. he rubbed your clit to prolong your high until you pushed his hand away, feeling overstimulated.
sunghoon leaned down to give soft kisses to your lips and forehead, before running to the kitchen to grab a paper towel wet with some warm water to clean you up.
the way was gently wiping your skin, leaving kisses here and there made your heart ache.
"hoon..." his eyes immediately meeting yours at the pet name, his heart skipping a beat. "...can you stay the night?"
he smiled and pecked your lips, "i thought you'd never ask"
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sage eventually reached out to you 2 weeks after jake's party and you two made amends. she apologized for what she said and acknowledged that things will probably never be the same with you two, but still wishes you and sunghoon the best.
"so, how did the call with sage go?" sunghoon asked from your kitchen, pouring himself a cup of coffee. you and sunghoon continued to hangout almost every day since that first night, and the more you go to know him, the harder you fell.
you two started to grow so close that could tell what he was thinking and he didn't even have to say anything.
"well, things for sure will never be the same between us that's for sure, but i think we both got closure from all of this." you said with a sigh.
he walked over to you silently, his hair down and slightly messy from sleep. his fingers fidgeted around the coffee mug and his lips smacking together making the 'tsk' they always do when he's about to say something but holds back.
"did you wanna tell me something?" you gestured him to come closer to you. you put your hands around his neck and he put his around your waist. you leaned your forehead up to his and his lips quirked up on the side.
"y/n, will you go on a date with me?" you couldn't hold back a smile as you kissed him passionately.
who would have guessed you could be so obsessed with your best friend's ex?
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taglist:  @luv-jungwon106 @gudkc @gyuoonz
ramblings: literally had a fever writing the second half lol pls tell me if this is bad bc i cannot even tell also this is my first time writing smut so i apologize if it just wasn't smexy at all ahHH
+ (also sage is actively the worst in this part lol, she is saur annoying and lowkey crazy)
thank you so much for reading, please let me know what you think <3
reblogs, likes, & comments are always appreciated!!
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