#i should ; ; ; try to work more tonight before the inevitability of it all hits me tomorrow ; ; ; ; ;
Note
'please don't fall!' for PruSpa :)
why of course >:3
Ladder
“Do you want me to hold the ladder?”
“I'm fine, it's not that high!”
“It was just an offer!”
“Oh, God, be careful up there, Gilbert! Please don't fall!”
“No point appealing to him,” Mikkel tells Antonio, who has just wandered into the room. “Stubborn as hell, as always!”
“I’m fine, seriously,” Gilbert assures them both all the same. “Your concern is flattering, but totally unnecessary!”
The three of them are amongst a small group of volunteers (or ‘elves’ as it had been put) to help decorate ahead of the annual holiday get-together. This year, it has become Francis’ undertaking, but as if he was going to get up a ladder and decorate the Christmas tree himself! Gilbert has a list of strict instructions (which he’s mostly ignored so far) and as he approaches the top, he’s glad he’s nearly finished.
But of course, being all the way up a ladder while decorating what was apparently a ten foot tall tree is ‘alarming’. Gilbert’s been dealing with Mikkel’s disguised worry for the last twenty minutes, but now that Antonio is now also here, he just knows it’ll worsen. Darn old men and their weak, weak knees! Not everyone is a liability!
As predicted, nevertheless—
“Do you want me to hold the ladder?” Antonio offers as well, hands on hips as he watches on from below. “Or maybe one of us should go up there instead…?”
Gilbert waves him off, and continues titivating the silvery tinsel. “I’m almost done,” he says by way of reassuring him, the worry-wart.
“I’m gonna leave you to it,” Mikkel surrenders with a gentle sigh. “Reckon I’ll be more use elsewhere.”
“Yep!” Gilbert agrees, eyes still glued to his work.
He hears some mumbling from below—Antonio and Mikkel exchanging some quiet words and a laugh about something, he notes—before one person’s footsteps pad away, and the room falls silent once more.
The silence only lasts so long, though.
“I’m looking forward to tonight,” Antonio muses. A quick glance down reveals that he’s looking around the room, at the tall ceilings, the chandelier, the snow-adorned garlands… “Something about Fran’s parties are always so magical, don’t you think?”
Gilbert hums along to appease him. He isn’t sure if ‘magical’ is the word. But he will admit he enjoys these nights, the festivities, the friends, the laughter… That’s what the holidays have come to mean: spending time with the important people in his life while they can.
But then Gilbert finds himself, after a moment, looking down once more. Below him, Antonio is eyeing some of the decorations already on the tree—glass baubles, ceramic birds, hand-painted globes—and a small smile seems to have appeared on his face, eyes wide like a child in a sweet shop.
Antonio is an even bigger fan of the holidays. For the same reasons, at heart. But there’s a part of him that also just loves the lights, the ornaments, the wreaths—every little detail. And even if he maintains his traditions in January, Antonio has not shied away from Christmas Day celebrations either in recent years. Gilbert likes seeing him enjoy himself in that respect. There was a short period where his presence was… Well…
It’s good to see him.
“Oh my gosh, I f—”
“FUCK—!”
“GILBERT!”
It happens so fast. There’s a wobble, then more wobbling, and then only falling.
It feels funny. A leg slips briefly between rungs—a misplaced foot is the root of his problems—and he feels himself fall backwards, light, helpless, fast. He braces himself in that single second to hit the ground—maybe even the ladder—to hit his head, or hurt his back, or land on a shoulder. Sustaining an injury is far from ideal, especially since these days he’s not quite so well-equipped to heal, but if he—
He does not hit the ground, but something just a little bit softer. Something that has arms that try to catch him, and something that inevitably falls down beneath his weight.
So much for not falling!
But that fall has repercussions, now, on more people than just himself.
With a groan, Gilbert tries to move and get up. Antonio, however, who is beneath him and sprawled across the floor, asks him, strained and quiet, to stay put.
Gilbert worries. His arse hurts, as does his shin. He’s glad to see the ladder went towards the tree and that Francis’ baubles survived the ordeal, but…
“Are you okay?” he asks Antonio, who still holds him, arms wrapped around Gilbert’s torso.
“Eh…” His breathing is a bit heavy, yet bated. “I thought I told you not to fall…”
“Yeah, well,” Gilbert scoffs, “you made me jump!”
“And you’re welcome for saving your neck!”
With that, Gilbert carefully pries himself from the other’s grasp and slowly sits up. Antonio softly groans, and decides to stay lying down; the other perches next to him, his own heart still racing a bit, and they look at each other.
The worry is certainly mutual.
“You okay?” Gilbert asks again, another layer to his question implied in the way his face morphs.
“Sore,” Antonio says. “Gimme a minute. I’ll— I’ll be fine.”
“Idiot.”
“Well.” His smile returned, albeit somewhat mischievous. “After that, I guess you could say you—”
“Don’t.”
“—fell for me?”
“Ugh.”
“The heck happened to you two? I heard a scream!”
Gilbert rolls his head to the side and finds Mikkel, reemerged at just the right time, and in a dramatic display of surrender, he riffs a slew of curses and joins Antonio on the floor properly.
Paying no mind to Mikkel’s presence, then, Antonio seeks out Gilbert’s hand and holds it gently in his own. It is warm. It is kind, in spite of what has just occurred between them. And Antonio looks at him with such warmth, too, and Gilbert looks back, and the other smiles once again, and Gilbert warms and buzzes and breathes and—
“No more ladders for you, Gil.”
“If you say so, Toni.”
And with that, their laughter only resumes.
[ fic collection on ao3! ] [ prompts list here! ]
#helia writes#hws spain#hws prussia#pruspa#no more ladders for gilbert#got a life ban#the first of the holiday fics had arriiiiived#i am working slowly thru them so do bear with#and thank you anon for requesting these buffoons 🍪 <3
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Inspired by @noxexistant ‘s notes on the mother of the delanceys because I am having Thoughts after reading them omg (hope you don’t mind the tag!)
(How Oscar talks about women in this one feels kinda icky just as a prewarning)
“It’s her birthday today.”
Oscar looked up from his plate, somewhat depressing in it’s mixture of mash potato and half cooked carrots but it was all they had in the cupboard and good enough for tonight.
“What?”
“Ma.” He knew he was making a mistake as he said it but said it anyway. “It’s her birthday.”
Oscar stared at him for a second before dropping his head again and Morris wasn’t oblivious to the way his hand flexed around the fork he was holding. He stabbed it harder than necessary into a carrot.
“She’s fuckin’ dead, it ain’t her anything.”
Morris waited, leant back in his chair actually, made it casual as he threw an arm over the backrest because he knew exactly what was coming, because Oscar was predictable in that way.
It was a give and take he was familiar with. If Morris wanted to talk about his mother, the only way to do it was through an argument.
So when Oscar opened his mouth again he wasn’t surprised by the vitriol he spat.
“And when the fuck did she try n’ remember our birthdays anyway huh.”
Morris could remember one birthday, his sixth, if he was right, that she had remembered. She had carded a hand through his hair and whispered Happy Birthday in his ear and slipped him a dime. He remembered how she told him not to tell da or Oscar about it.
(And yes maybe it was intentional that he didn’t think about the birthday she back handed him when he small enough for her weak hit to send him to the ground, but if he held that against her, he would have to hold it against Oscar too.)
(He ignored the fact that his Ma’s hits were far more frequent than any that ever came from Oscar. Ignored the fact that back then they had been mother and child not brother and brother who stood shoulder to shoulder, that he could hit Oscar back just as hard if he wanted.)
“You think it was easy for her to live with da?” He said, instead of thinking about.
He meant it as a genuine question, but he also knew it didn’t really matter how he meant it because Oscar would only ever take it one way. Morris knew this, knew Oscar and how he worked like the back of his hand, knew that if he wanted to have this conversation it was never going to be civil because it was them so what was the point in even trying. He had better things to spend his time on than trying to circumnavigate the inevitable.
Oscar laughed at that question at least, a bitter sound with no humour behind it, mean. “I think she was a whore who got ‘herself pregnant with a bastard kid and then had to marry the asshole. She did it to herself.”
“It ain’t like she had a choice though, is it?”
“What, you a suffragette or somethin’ now?”
“I’m just saying da was a bastard and you know he went at her too.” He paused, considered whether or not he should say this next part but Oscar had gone silent and he felt the need to fill it. “I think we ruined her life.”
It was statement, not an apology, he knew she’d ruined theirs too in her own way.
Oscar threw his fork down so hard Morris was concerned it might add another chip to the plate.
“Nah, I’m the bastard, and the bitch sure as hell made sure I knew it,” He said, “An’ if she weren’t our ma, some other poor fucker would’ve ‘ad her and she’d have some other bastard kid. Woulda ended exactly the same.”
Maybe Morris miscalculated. It came as a realisation far too late that he hadn’t accounted for how uncomfortable this might make him feel to hear, even if he’d heard it all before. Hadn’t accounted for his own anger that lay constant and dormant in the cavity of his chest.
“You shouldn’t call her that.”
“Why? What’s she gonna do? Haunt me? Couldn’t be fucked with us while she was alive Morris, don’t think she’s gonna give more of a shit now she’s dead.”
Morris let the silence swallow that statement.
And then too casually, because it was partly a matter of pride that he was able to stay nonchalant while Oscar got angry (Snyder had always said he was good at making people angry-)
“Do you think she was happy?”
Oscar let out another scoff, defused in an odd kind of way by the question and Morris knew it was because there was only one obvious answer.
“No.”
There was something in his voice that coated the word, something that for the first time in years, Morris couldn’t pin down. Like there was a secret between Oscar and their mother’s grave that he could only learn by getting soil under his fingernails.
“I think y’should drop it.” Oscar said.
Morris almost let that be the end of it. Almost.
“She did her best.”
“Jesus Morris. Drop it.”
He recognised the harsh line of his jaw, the tension in his shoulders, the way his knuckles flexed white around the fork. His ma’s expression on his face in the same way his forehead creased like their da, almost the same reflection that Morris saw when he looked in a mirror.
Morris rolled his eyes and dropped it.
It had gone surprisingly better than he expected anyway.
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Bartender x Customer AU (Malec)
Best Served Cold - requested by @writing-in-verse
Note to self: when leaving an awful date, make sure they aren’t walking the same way as you.
“Well, this is me,” Alec announced awkwardly, and cut down a nearby alley before the inevitable ‘this was great, let’s do this again some time’ kiss. He’d be able to work out another route when he figured out where this alley would bring him. Still, it was probably best to wait at least long enough to avoid running into his date again. Digging into his pocket, he pulled his phone out and hit the power button. Nothing. In the blank, black screen, he could see his own despairing face reflected back at him. He looked around at the buildings that backed onto the alley, the fire doors and big kitchen extractor vents. From one, music was pouring - a club maybe? Or a bar? Surely there would be a payphone there he could use. Without any better ideas, and hoping he wouldn’t set off any alarms, he slipped through the fire door.
It didn’t take long to find the main bar area where, despite the music, it actually wasn’t too busy. After doing a lap of the place, looking for any possible hiding spot for a payphone, Alec sighed: he was going to have to ask someone. Could his night possibly get any worse? First the date, then his phone dying, now forced social interaction; it was Alec’s own personal hell, and the red-tinted club lights seemed oddly fitting.
The bar counter itself was kind of crowded, but that was okay. Alec wasn’t in a hurry. It was 11pm in New York City and last call was at least two hours away. He slumped onto a stool near the end of the counter, chin on his hand, and tried to work out where his date had gone wrong. The movie they saw was bad, the food truck they stopped at for tacos kind of sucked, but Alec knew that wasn’t really it. In the end, it was him. It was always him, being too nervous to make a move, too panicked by anything akin to PDA, too…Alec. So he kept going on these awful dates to try and get out of his shoe-closet-sized comfort zone. It would be good practice, he told himself, for when he met someone he actually liked. If tonight was anything to go by though, he should probably prepare for plenty more nights like this, Alec thought.
“Helloooo?”
Jolting so suddenly he had to bite back a yelp, Alec looked up at the person who’d clearly been attempting to get his attention for some time, who gave him an impatient but not unfriendly chuckle.
“Are you ordering?”
“Do you take card?” Alec stumbled, still adjusting.
“Do we take card? How old are you?” the bartender laughed. “Yes, we take card, grandpa. We even do contactless, if you can believe it.”
Alec smiled a little, nodding. “Sorry, I don’t have any cash on me and my phone’s dead so I only have my card and –” The man was looking at him, one eyebrow raised. Alec felt his face go red and hoped the similarly-coloured lights hid it. “Just an old-fashioned, please.”
“Oh my God, you are a grandpa,” the bartender said, bending to get a glass and a bottle from under the counter. “Tell me,” he went on when he stood back up, “what was it like before movies had sound and colour and all this new-fangled nonsense?”
“Wow, the bartenders here are so nice,” Alec deadpanned. “Why haven’t I come here before?”
The man slid the drink across and put a hand out when Alec reached for his wallet. “It’s okay, sir, I don’t need to see your ID. Just show me your Blockbuster Video card or the address of your retirement home.”
“I was getting my card out to pay actually.”
The man waved a hand dismissively. “I don’t feel comfortable taking money from the elderly.” He patted the back of Alec’s hand with a faux patronising smile and went over to take the next order. Alec watched, sucking on the flesh of the orange slice from his glass, and wondered if the man would come back.
It wasn’t long until the counter cleared again, though somewhat longer before Alec built up the courage to say anything.
“Hi,” he called, but probably not loud enough. Still, the man turned and coasted over. “Hey, um…”
“Magnus,” the bartender supplied. The name fit him like a glove, like a tailored suit. From the waistcoat over the mesh top to the eyeliner and the hair that glittered when the red lights hit it, this was a ‘Magnus’ if there ever was one.
“Alec,” he returned. “You don’t have any payphones around, do you?” Magnus shook his head and Alec sighed. “Wouldn’t have been much use anyway,” he conceded. “No loose change.”
Magnus looked around and then put a hand out. “Here, give me your phone. I keep a charger behind the bar. I’ll charge it for you.” Alec handed the phone over gratefully and Magnus leaned an elbow on the bar, slouching so the two of them were eye-to-eye. “So, what’s wrong?”
Caught off guard, Alec didn’t say anything for a moment. “Nothing. Just…wanted a night-cap,” was what he eventually settled on.
With narrowed eyes, Magnus surveyed him for a second, then pointed over Alec’s shoulder, making him turn to follow the line of sight. “See that couple there? They’re going to break up tonight - specifically, he’s going to break up with her. He always pretends he doesn’t mind she’s a messy bitch when she’s drunk but he’s sick of it.” His finger shifted to the other side of the room where a girl sat testing at a table. “She’s about to quit her job. Probably tomorrow, but maybe even before she leaves here.” His hand trailed to a guy chatting with a group, all half-shouting in that way that tipsy people did. “He’s leaving town tomorrow. Afternoon flight, luckily, but I do not envy the jetlag-hangover combo meal waiting for him when he touches down.” His gaze shifted back to Alec. “So?”
“How can you possibly know all that?”
“Bartenders see everything. We’re basically professional people watchers who occasionally do a little mixology on the side.” He smirked. “Don’t make me wipe down the bar and ask ‘Tough day?’ It makes me feel like a total cliche.”
“Fine,” Alec relented. “Fine. I’ve just been on a horrendous date and when we said goodbye we both started walking the same way. So I came in here to hide.”
Magnus laughed. “Been there. So what was it? Nothing in common?”
“Not even that. I wouldn’t be opposed to dating someone who was my polar opposite. But the conversation didn’t flow and it all felt awkward. There was just no…”
“Spark?”
“Exactly.”
“So,” Magnus asked, elbows propped on the bar and chin cupped in both hands. “What are you looking for? Who is the ideal date?”
Alec ran a hand through his hair nervously. “I don’t know. Someone nice?”
Magnus scoffed, topping up Alec’s glass. “Nice? What next? ‘Funny’ and ‘kind’?”
“Maybe,” Alec retorted. “Someone…fun, and confident, and who knows how to say no to those people who try to sign you up for mailing lists on the street. Someone who’s the total opposite of me. Someone who’s spontaneous, maybe who likes to travel. Just someone like…”
He trailed off and found Magnus smiling back at him. It made him blush a little for some reason.
“How about you?” he asked instead, trying to shift the conversational spotlight away from himself. “Unless you already…?”
“Probably just someone with money,” Magnus joked. “No millionaires have been in recently, so I’m still living the single life. Maybe I’ll hit up this Richard guy though.”
Alec’s eyes widened and he stared back, lost for words. “What?”
“Like I said, bartenders know everything,” Magnus insisted. He paused. “That and your phone’s turned back on and you have, like, 11 tests from ‘Richard, weird ears’.” He laughed. “I’m not even going to ask what–” He paused. “Wait…is one ear higher than the other?”
“Stop that! No way you guessed that!”
Magnus cackled, head thrown back, apparently thrilled. “We’ve been on a date with the same guy! The same awful guy!”
Alec groaned, taking a long drink from his glass. But, the same guy? That meant…
“You’re, um…” Alec flushed, not knowing how to ask. Was it rude? Almost definitely, yes, but Magnus was nodding solemnly.
“Also someone with bad taste? Unfortunately, yes, I am.”
Alec laughed and leaned closer. “He clicked at the guy making our food.” He paused for effect. “At a taco truck.”
“Horrific,” Magnus said with a wince. “He didn’t tip when we got dinner. And he flirted with all the wait staff.”
Alec grimaced. “We deserve compensation.”
“No, we need to right the wrongs,” Magnus insisted. “We need to go to that restaurant and tip like 40%, go to that taco truck and hype up the most basic of tacos.”
“Go to the cinema and not talk all the way through the movie.”
“Oh my God, he’s the worst. Yes, let’s do it. It’s a date.”
Alec’s heart gave a thud in his chest and goosebumps raced down his arms. A date. Before he could obsess over it, Magnus was beckoning him.
“Give me your finger to unlock your phone. I’ll put my number in.” He stopped suddenly, apparently shy. “If you want, I mean. Sorry, I just–”
Alec put his thumb on the home button of his phone, slid it back across the bar towards Magnus who smiled and took the phone, typing in his number.
“There. I’ll text myself so I have yours.”
He tapped away and then checked his own phone, putting Alec’s down on the counter. He put a hand to his chest, faux-scandalised. “That is a very bold first text, Alec. Such impropriety, and from an elderly gentleman like yourself, no less.”
Alec clicked into his messages, opened the top chat, and saw the text from him to Magnus: ‘Made you look. x’ He grinned. At the top of the conversation, he saw the contact name: Magnus, normal ears. Alec tipped his head, squinting, making a show of examining Magnus’s ears. Aside from all of the cuffs and studs, he had to concede that they were pretty normal. Magnus rolled kohl-lined eyes, smiling despite himself.
“Sorry, is anyone actually serving or should I just come behind the bar and make my own drink?”
The two of them glanced up to see a man leaning against the bar at the other end. Magnus sighed.
“Duty calls. Maybe we should set him up with Richard,” he grinned.
“I’ll text you!” Alec called, and the warm feeling inside him grew, totally separate to the alcohol in him. Perhaps the night hadn’t begun so great but, looking back over at Magnus as he headed outside to find a taxi, it had certainly ended on a high.
#malec#malec fic#magnus lightwood bane#magnus bane#alec lightwood bane#alec lightwood#cassandra clare#tsc#the shadowhunter chronicles#fanfic#the mortal instruments#tmi
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Bound with Fire, Forged with Flames (Elucien Fic)
Summary // Masterlist // Previous Chapter // Next Chapter
A/N: This chapter should not exist, considering it is nowhere on my outline, but in an effort to get Elain from her bed to her plans for the day, Lucien snuck in. Hope you like it!
Warnings: Mentions of past SA
Chapter Six – Borage
Word Count: 2675
Elain
Elain slowly awoke from sleep to be greeted by perfect, golden sunlight sneaking through the cracks between her curtains. The peaceful morning soothed her as she came to, remembering the past week till she was no longer basking in the early morning sun, but also in the sunshine of Lucien’s devoted affection.
It had been two days since they had caught fireflies together and two days since they last had a moment to themselves. She assumed her father suspected they were not being fully proper in their interactions when they were alone, and being rightfully overprotective, he had made sure either he or one of her lady’s maids were always with her. Elain could feel herself going a little stir crazy over this fact– often wishing for something to cure the never-ending heat that soiled her mind and often her undergarments. An even bigger issue Elain was continuing to face in the privacy of her own mind was that she didn’t fully understand what it was she wanted.
It was improper for a lady of her status to know much about what happens in the marriage bed, and Elain was pretty sure she knew the basics– but the way her sisters would smirk at her after a long and loud night indicated that there was much more happening than she knew. While Elain wanted to enjoy her time with Lucien, it was difficult for Elain to put herself in a position where she wouldn’t fully understand what was supposed to be happening. Even the way Lucien had lapped at her neck had been a shock to her– he seemed to find her most sensitive places and she had never known her neck to be one of those.
Elain quelled her anxiety around her lack of experience by trying to bring herself back to the warmth of the sun hitting her skin and the warmth of knowing today was another day with Lucien. Elain was particularly excited for today because it was the day her sisters were arriving from Velaris, the capital, and the day where Lucien and Elain would be celebrated with an engagement ball. Much of Lucien’s family couldn’t make the ball, but Elain was still ecstatic to meet his brother, Eris. Elain had gathered from her conversations with Lucien that he didn’t particularly like his family, especially his brothers, but she still hoped to make a good impression on Eris.
Finally Elain sat fully up, ready to face her day. She put her robe on and headed for her bedroom door to alert her lady’s maids that she was up and ready to begin her beautification for the ball tonight. However, when she opened the door, she did not find Nuala and Cerridwen awaiting, but rather the occupier of her every thought as of late–Lucien.
As she opened her mouth in what would inevitably be a startled greeting, he put his large paw over her lips and backed her into the room. The force of his movements pulling her towards her private rooms struck a chord against her mind and she felt herself begin to drown in fear, once again. As she felt her anxiety begin to crest against all the hard work she had felt like she was making against her trauma, he finally removed his hand.
“What the hell are you doing?” she spat at him, allowing her anger to be clear in her tone.
Lucien was clearly not expecting this reaction as he blinked at her, “I’ve never heard you swear.” Elain scoffed at him. “I’m sorry,” Lucien started again, confusion still lacing his tone, “I just wanted to come and see you. Is everything alright?”
“We had a deal that I would be in control!” Elain began backing away from him. “You said you wouldn’t do anything unless I wanted it. You promised me I could trust you,” and finally Elain broke. Her anger shattering before him as a sob was ripped from her throat. She crumpled to the ground before him, tugging her legs up to her chest to hide what her robe wasn’t.
Lucien clearly didn’t know what to do, but he knew well enough to stay on his side of the room. “My beautiful Elain,” he started, “I’m so sorry. Please forgive me,” he crouched before her, but made no effort to get any closer. “Elain, look at me, please,” he begged.
Elain could barely see him through her tears, but she resigned to look at the Lucien-colored blob that was stanced before her in a way that was reminiscent of how one would approach an angry lion.
“Elain, I had no intentions with you this morning. I just missed talking to you freely. I wanted to come and check on you before tonight. Everything--our engagement, our marriage-- gets real tonight. I wanted to see how you were doing with it all,” he explained gently. “Let me assure you, my lady, I fully intend to keep up my end of the bargain, and I am so sorry if my manhandling of you just before made you believe differently.”
Elain took a few steadying breaths, but it felt impossible to stop the tears that continued to flow. Even as her sobs subsided and her shaking calmed, the tears wouldn’t stop. She didn’t know how long Lucien and her sat on the floor across from each other, but she knew it was long enough for her rear to go sore and for him to shift uncomfortably at the strain against his knees. Finally she managed to choke out, “I’m sorry.”
Lucien was quick to shake his head, “You have nothing to apologize for,” he paused. “Do you want me to leave? I will do whatever you request, just please know, I meant you no harm.”
Despite her current emotional state, Elain still found herself shaking her head no. “No, Lucien. Stay. Please, this has nothing to do with you. I just… panicked.”
Lucien nodded his head and shifted closer to her. “You do not owe me any explanation, but you must know that you can tell me anything. I would never judge you or think less of you.”
Elain nodded, resolved that it was now or never. So she opened her mouth, and allowed herself to be laid bare before him. “Last spring, when the season started, there was another man. His name is Graysen.” For the first time in months, Elain let herself say his name. She heard her heartbeat over the sound of her own words as she recounted her fall into his arms before his facade had crashed down around her, sending her pretty visions and hopes for true love fleeing away.
And he listened.
Lucien
Lucien was trying to continue to listen carefully as Elain recounted how she had felt about his own introduction to her life, but all he could hear at this point was a faint buzzing and blood rushing as his anger boiled over through him. His sweet Elain had been ruined by a wretched waste of space who didn’t deserve to be within a 30 mile radius of her. Not ruined in the sense that she had been touched indecently– he didn’t give a fuck about her sexual history–but ruined by how he had ripped away her innocence and optimistic view of the world.
Elain deserved to still believe in true love. Lucien knew first hand how it felt to lose the gift of seeing the world through rose-colored lenses, and it nearly broke him to know that Elain had faced the same tear through the fabric of her world.
“Are you okay?” Elain asked timidly, “Did I say too much?” She casted her eyes down in shame and Lucien jumped into action. Elain will never feel ashamed in front of me again, he promised in the quietness of his own heart.
Lucien slowly crawled towards her, trying to look as not-menacing as possible as he settled beside her and loosely put his arm around her shoulders. “Elain, you will never say too much to me. Thank you for sharing that with me. None of this was your fault, and Graysen better hopes we never cross paths because... Elain,” Lucien took a steadying breath to quell the rage he knew was overtaking his voice. This moment wasn’t about his anger. It needed to be about her. He sighed, “Nevermind. Just know, that I would never do that to you. I know that trust is something to be earned and any trust I can earn from you, I will cherish. If it takes the rest of my life, I will work night and day to ensure you can feel safe with me. Do you understand?”
She nodded mutely, looking up at him again. Without her signal, he made no effort to physically comfort her any further–content to stay on the floor beside her forever, his arm going numb between her back and the wall.
Elain took a breath, signalling she wished to speak, and Lucien turned down towards her again, giving her his full attention. “You should know… besides that moment with Graysen, I have no further experience with a man.” She said this with so much insecurity that Lucien once again felt the physical urge to beat Graysen. “That is perfectly fine, Elain,” he reassured, “I had no expectation coming into this betrothal that a Lady would have any knowledge of such physical things.”
“That’s the problem, Lucien,” she countered while Lucien was momentarily full of bliss at her use of his name. “I want to learn these things, and I want to know how to be with you in that way. I have been going crazy these past few days wanting something without knowing what that something is.” Elain slowly turned red in obvious realization that she said more than she meant to. She covered her face with her hands to better hide her blush.
Lucien bit back his smile, “Going crazy, huh? Want to know a secret, Elain?” She allowed her eyes to peek through her fingers as she silently asked him to continue. “I have been driven absolutely mad with desire for you this week. Every time you enter a room, all I can think about are those little sounds you made when I kissed along your neck.” For added effect, Lucien trailed the knuckles of the hand wrapped around her shoulder delicately over the bobbing of her throat. She shuddered at the touch. “Your sensitivity, Gods, Elain, you have no idea what you do to me.” He allowed his raw desire to seep into his eyes and voice, but made sure to not move any further physically.
“How do you handle it?” She asked shyly. “It feels like the burn will never stop. How do you keep your wits about you at all when it feels like this?” Once again, Lucien’s tongue felt too big for his mouth and the functioning of his brain hit an all time low. Is Elain asking me about self-pleasure? She had brought another blush to his face, as he struggled to find an answer that he hoped would not scare her off.
“Elain, I do not think you realize what you are asking, or at least what my answer will be,” he started and she cocked her head in curiosity.
“Well then tell me,” she answered matter-of-factly. At his continued hesitation, her expression became annoyed. “Lucien, I just told you that I don’t like not knowing anything and now you won’t even help me understand what I don’t know! Just tell me how to handle this without having to consummate our relationship before marriage because I will not do that!”
Lucien found himself entertained by her proper opinions of virginity, but his entertainment was far more contested by his discomfort and slight arousal at where this conversation was about to head. Here goes nothing.
“Elain, when I feel this burning and it becomes overwhelming for me, the best way for me to handle it is to find a release at my own hand,” he said as delicately as he could. She looked at him quizzically, “Release?” Oh gods. He dropped his head into her neck and groaned. He felt her shiver against his breath on her neck and he quickly backed away again, trying to honor her and also not torture her any more than she already was.
“When two people have sex,” she flinched at his brash use of the word “sex” instead of calling it a consummation like she always did, but he continued on, “it should feel pleasurable. At one point during the act, the pleasure reaches a peak and there is a release, of sorts, while you crest that peak. This release is both overwhelming and relaxing, in that it can temporarily ease you from the discomfort you describe– the tension. Does that make sense?”
She continued to turn red but nodded her head. “But I do not understand-- you speak of this release in terms of two people, together. How would you do this on your own and how does it help our problem?”
“Although sex is arguably the best place to find a release, and I look forward to showing you how, it is possible to find it on your own.” She hid her face again bashfully at his flirting, but quickly perked up again at the end of his point. “How would I find it on my own?”
Lucien took a breath to steady himself. “You can find pleasure by exploring the apex of your thighs, at your most sensitive spot.” He tried to keep his breathless tone at bay, but it became obvious this conversation was effecting him as he could not help but add, “Sex does not always include full consummation either. Some partners only focus on that release in what is called foreplay, which allows pleasure to occur without the possibility of a pregnancy.”
Once again, confusion filled her gaze. “So I can find a release and a gentle reprieve from this burning by touching myself, or you could touch me and help me find a similar release without us actually consummating a marriage?” Lucien couldn’t suppress his groan at that thought. He knew she was not suggesting that he bring her to a climax, but the thought of being the one to make her face twist up in pleasure before finally helping her unwind the growing tension she felt drove him absolutely mad.
“Yes, Elain,” he gulped. “Try out pleasuring yourself first. But if you find yourself lost to the madness, I have no reservations about opening my room to you.” She nodded, thankfully up at him, seemingly content with his answers. Lucien thanked the gods for an end to this conversation. Slowly, she lifted herself and kissed his cheek. The action seemed far too innocent considering the conversation they held, but Lucien still felt his heart flutter.
She shifted away from him, then. “Thank you for this enlightening talk, but I feel like I must kick you out, now. My lady’s maids will be here soon to prepare for tonight, and as I am sure you now understand, my father would be less-than-pleased to find you in here with me alone.”
Lucien nodded his head in agreement, “I completely understand, my Elain. I simply cannot wait to see you tonight, I already know you will take my breath away.” She giggled as he then leaned down to kiss the top of her head in a goodbye. As Lucien slipped out of her rooms, it took all his effort not to immediately turn back around, go back in there, and fall to his knees in devotion to her. He couldn’t stop the smile from forming on his face as he thought about the day coming soon where he would be allowed to do just that, day and night.
As Lucien rounded the final corner to return to his own rooms, he halted in his steps at who appeared to be waiting outside his door. “Hello, brother,” Eris smirked, “Having fun with your future bride so early in the morning?"
A/N: Oooooo cliffhanger. Hopefully this chapter flows okay-ish. I am happy I figured out a way for Elain to open up to Lucien but holy cow this chapter really threw me for a loop. I feel like I spent the whole thing trying to get back on track and failing miserably. And yes, the conversation about sex was initially inspired by the Duke and Daphne in Bridgerton S1. Sometimes fics can bother me with the idea that the female knows nothing and she only learns through experience. I really like the idea of Lucien openly explaining things to her that she doesn't understand, and then her deciding if and when she wants to do them. That keeps the regency au style going while also putting the power back in Elain's hands, so I stuck with it. Let me know what you think!
Next chapter is a ball! And then real plot in the same chapter! Yay!
#elain#elain archeron#pro elain#pro elucien#elucien#elucien fanfiction#elucien fic#lucien#lucien vanserra#lucien acotar
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Calling Our Expert
For @penelopeminded
Summary: How Luke got Penelope to come back to the BAU
Word count: 1544
Can also be read here on Ao3
The doorbell rang just as Penelope took the tray of cookies out of the oven. She placed them on the counter and walked over to the door. She opened it to the sight of her boyfriend, Luke Alvez, who greeted her with a smile and a raise of his eyebrows. The smile on his face said hi. The look in his eyes said I love you.
"Hey, you!" Penelope exclaimed, pulling him and giving him a light kiss as a welcome. "You weren't supposed to be here until tonight for movie night! This is a nice surprise! I'm so glad you're here! I just finished doing some baking, and I need a taste-tester!" She pointed to a spot at her kitchen island. "Now go! Sit!"
Despite the fact that he was there to ask her to dive back into the world of unsubs and gore and everything terrible in the world, he listened to her and took a seat. He could wait a few minutes. As much as it was his idea to call her back, he was worried about how this would affect her. They needed her, yes, but she probably needed to come back as much as she needed a hole in the head.
She walked over to him with a tray of scones but then paused on the opposite side of the island from him. "Wait a second, what are you doing here? Didn't you say you had to go into work? You guys have a really urgent case or something?”
For a moment he regretted suggesting this, regretted showing up at her door. An intrusive voice in his head whispered that she might be so angry at him for suggesting this that she’d end things with him. “That’s actually what I need to talk to you about. The case.”
She slowly put the tray of scones down on the island and looked him dead in the eye. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“That depends, what do you think I’m saying?”
“Are you… asking me to come back?”
“It’s bad,” he said. “Really bad. We’re trying, but we keep hitting all these different walls. I know we promised not to ask you to come back… but we need you, Penelope.”
She walked around to the other side of the island and sat down beside him. “I… I don’t know. I miss you guys… and you know there are days when I kind of miss the job… but I don’t know if I can do it again. Who’s idea was it for me to come back?”
“It was mine, actually,” he admitted. “But it’s also why I came to ask you in person instead of someone calling you and asking you. I can show you a bit of what we’re working with, if you want, and if you don’t want, you’re more likely to say no to me than you are to Emily or JJ.”
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he assured her. “If you don’t want to do any of this, I’ll go back to work and we can forget I ever suggested this.”
“But then… what if other people die because I didn’t come back? What if I could have saved them? Will I be able to live with myself if I don’t come back?”
Shit. Luke hadn’t considered the inevitable guilt she’d feel if it appeared like someone’s blood was on her hands, and considering the two years they’d been together and the four years he’d known her before that, he definitely should have.
He placed a hand on her shoulder comfortingly. "Hey, hey, no. No matter what you decide, none of this is going to be on you. All of the blame goes solely to the unsubs."
"Unsubs?" Penelope repeated. "As in, multiple? More than one? Many evil minds all working together?"
"Yeah," Luke admitted. "It's a network of killers. We have no idea how they're communicating. That's… that's why we need you."
Penelope took a deep breath. "Okay, show me what you got."
Luke perked up despite himself. "Really?"
"I'm not saying yes I'll come back or anything, just… show me what you're working with."
"I have a USB, can we plug it into your laptop?"
She pushed the rose gold laptop towards him. "Have at it."
He plugged the USB in and quickly clicked away from the extremely gory crime scene photos. He'd protect her from as many of those as he could.
She pulled the laptop back towards her and started looking through it. "Well, you'd need to see if all of these victims have a hidden connection, right? Or if some of them are connected to some and not others to start differentiating between killers?"
"Yeah, that's right."
"Well I could definitely start looking into that and providing background information and…" she turned to Luke and slapped him on the shoulder. "Gah! I hate how easy it is for me to pick this back up!" She turned back to face the computer absolutely shocked and disgusted.
"Hey, hey," he said, reaching for her again. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to do. If you want to pretend like this never happened, we can do that."
She looked downright miserable. "What if I'm not sure?"
"The team said they'd be on standby for a video call if you wanted to, to talk things through with them, if that's something you're up for."
She nodded. "Yeah. Sounds good. Let's do that."
He briefly commandeered the laptop again to access the team Zoom link, then placed it between them so they could both be seen. The team popped up on their screen a moment later, all of them visible at the round table, meaning Luke and Penelope were being projected on the large TV.
"Hey, look who I found," he said, turning to look at her.
"Hey, whole family!" Penelope said, leaning toward Luke and propping her chin up on her hand. Luke was positive he had the most love-struck of grins on his face at the moment, and he was also positive that since he and Penelope were being projected on the TV that everyone could see it, and he was sure to get a razzing from Tara when he returned to the office. He couldn't find it in himself to care.
"Well there's a face I don't see enough of," Rossi said. "So is that a yes to coming back, Garcia?"
"It is an I'll see what you're dealing with and then make my decision," she replied.
"Fair enough."
"All right," Emily said. "Let's show her what we're working with."
They showed Garcia some of the gorier images that Luke had abstained from. They also went into deeper detail. She looked absolutely horrified, while Luke looked down at the table, feeling very conflicted. Now more than ever, he regretted pulling Penelope back to this, even for a moment. As the person who arguably loved her the most out of their group, he should have been looking out for her and her mental health and considered how this would affect her. Instead, he had thought only of the team and their needs. They could have found someone else from another team to work with. Monty, from Matt's old team, or even–as much as Luke despised thinking of the man–Kevin Lynch, who, despite all the reasons the team–and Luke especially–hated him, was very good at his job. But no, Luke's mind seemed to only ever be centered around one topic: Penelope. And while normally that was a sweet thing that caused their relationship to flourish, this time it was hurting her. He hated that.
"I still don't know," Penelope said when they ended their presentation. "I still have to think about it. I can't make any promises."
"We understand completely," JJ told her.
"Yeah, there is absolutely no pressure, Penelope," Tara assured.
"Thanks, guys. I love you. I'll see you all at some point regardless." With that, she clicked off the call. She turned back to Luke and saw the look on his face. "Luke, what's wrong?"
"I'm so sorry," he told her, nearly fighting back tears. "I never should have brought you back into this. Please, please don't feel any pressure to come back."
"Luke, I don't," she promised. "Now you should get back to work. I'll think about it, okay?"
"Okay." He leaned forward and kissed her tenderly. "I love you. So much. You know that, right?"
She kissed him again. "I know. I love you too." She shoved some cookies and scones into his hands. "Now go. I'll see you tonight, yeah?"
"Yeah." And because he couldn't resist, he kissed her one last time. "Okay, I'm actually going now. I'll see you later. I love you."
"I love you too."
***
The next day was back to work, and Luke still had no idea if Penelope was coming back.
"Oh, and we'll officially be getting some more help on this case," Emily said partway through their meeting.
"Really?" Luke asked. "Who?"
There was a click of the door and an exclaimed, "Surprise!" right behind him.
He did a full-body turnaround in his chair.
Oh my god. It was her.
#Garvez#garvez fanfiction#Luke Alvez#Penelope Garcia#Criminal Minds#Criminal Minds reboot#Criminal Minds Evolution
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Chapter 1
⎔ MASTERLIST ⎔ REQUESTS ⎔ X FILES ⎔ I WANT TO BELIEVE ⎔
Word Count: 3.2k
Warnings:
A/N: Wrote these years ago, hope someone enjoys
▪️Chapter 2 →
—————
Tonight was a late and exhausting night. I was up most of it with Mulder finishing a case, all the evidence needed, we had. We caught the suspect, who then killed themselves with a cyanide capsule. The evidence was incriminating, we had enough to blow this whole thing wide open, to show that this man was working for our Government; which has been hiding and experimenting on Aliens and extraterrestrial life for years. As I said, the truth will be out there by mid-afternoon tomorrow. Mulder and I have a meeting with Assistant Director Skinner tomorrow; it's time for him to believe. Believe in UFO's and extraterrestrial life. Therefore I should get some rest, I've got a big day ahead, and I hope that Mulder gets some sleep. The last time I saw him was in the office, I just hope he doesn't stay up all night, like he usually does. God he stresses me out, but where would I be without him? Probably stuck behind a desk waiting for my big break! I push the thoughts aside and wash what little make up I have on, off. The water splashes in the sink basin. Outside of the bathroom, I hear a floor board creek. I open the door quietly, and walk over to the aide board. I grab my gun, and walk through each room. Nothing. There's nothing, not a thing or a sound. Creek! It came from the kitchen. I hear it again, and the sound is followed by a draft of cold air. I peer into the kitchen; the window is open a little. I must have opened it for fresh air this morning. I close it, and hear the creek again. It came from behind me, I spin around and point my gun. Meow!
"What are you doing cat?" I look into its big green eyes, and it meows. "you scared me, that's all.' I'm talking to a cat. Great! I suppose it's not as weird as some of Mulder's things.
"What am I going to do with you?" I ask.
I carry the cat to the front door, and it starts to rain. I feel bad about throwing it out into this weather. It's not just a shower, it's full on raining. Then a clap of lighting illuminates the street.
"Just tonight." I say to the cat as I shut the door. I go to the bed room calling the cat, and peel back the duvet. I climb in and the cat follows. Before I turn the light off, I check for a tag. Nope. No tag.
"I don't know if you even have a name, let alone a home."
Meow! I stroke by its ear and under its chin. I fall asleep to the sound of the cat's deep purr.
Ring, ring! Ring, ring! Ring, ring! I'm still partially asleep when I hear the doorbell. No. Not the doorbell.
"It's the telephone!" I yell as I lean up in bed. The cat hisses after being startled by me.
Ring, ring! I pick up the receiver and try to speak. my throats clammy, so I have to cough.
"Hello?" I manage.
"Scully, it's Mulder." I can sense the anger in his tone.
"What's up Mulder?" I ask. My pitch has gone up.
"They've taken it! All of it, down to the smallest piece of insignificant data." He throws something because I hear it hit the wall.
"Mulder calm down! What happened? What have they taken?" I try to calm myself for the inevitable.
"They took the evidence. Scully it's all gone." he pauses for breath. "Not only did they take the evidence, but they have made us look like fools. Or rather, they will."
I tell him to calm down, and I'll be right over.
I enter the Federal building at 8:30am. Early but I need to see Mulder. After all this case has cost, all the hours it took. It's worse for him, he's devoted half his life for chasing UFO's and extraterrestrial life, and how much evidence has he got? Zilch. Nada. Naught. Not anything more than a blurry photograph that could be a fake. I make my way down the corridors an show my ID. Then down a few more corridors, and finally to the basement. I knock on the door, no reply. I knock again. I reach for the Handle as someone opens the door.
"Didn't you hear me Mulder?" I'm curious as to why he didn't answer.
"Yeah, I just thought it was one of those polite knocks you do to announce yourself. After all, this is as much your office as it is mine. So why knock?" He does that thing where he stares into your eyes trying to put things together, that or he hasn't slept yet.
"I, er... I knocked in case you were on the phone, or chucking anything!" I half laugh. I can see a smile trying to break out on his face.
"You wouldn't believe this, but they even erased the answer machine." he sounded like a moaning kid. However, he has a point. There was information on that.
"Can we ask for the tape back? I mean jut ask for the contact information of the deceased's family." I suggest. I don't know why I suggested this, because I know he would have already tried.
"No. I tried that, I don't think..." he trails off.
The next thing I know, he has me in a hug. I pat his back.
"Scully?" He sounds confused.
"Yeah?"
"Why do you smell like cat?" He takes a deep breath.
"Why are you smelling me?" I joke. "It's a long story." I can tell he wants to know. "I'll tell it anyway!" Yay. This is going to be annoying, it's not that interesting.
I finish telling him about the cat that I thought was an intruder, and he just laughs. I suppose it is funny.
"I can't believe you thought the cat was an intruder. You even talked to it Scully." He started to chuckle.
"Mulder, I don't think you would have done anything different. I can't help but feel that you're displeased." I sound very harsh, but if he thinks he can be critical of me, when he's spooky Mulder... then he has other thing coming.
"Displeased? Scully, why would you think that? After everything I have seen, you think talking to a cat is..." he's lost for the last word.
"Spooky?" I suggest.
He just nods and carries on chuckling. Sometimes I think he deserves the way he's treated, and should get called all the names. I remember the first time we met, it was a bit... strange.
"Agent Mulder. I'm Dana Scully. I've been assigned to work with you." I sounded confident.
"Oh, isn't it nice to be suddenly so highly regarded. So who did you tick off to get stuck with this detail, Scully?" his voice had a hint of sarcasm and patronisation. Like I was a kid getting lost and stuck in something that I shouldn't be involved with. I got the impression I was not welcome.
"Actually, I'm looking forward to working with you. I've heard a lot about you." I tried to show enthusiasm, but in all honesty I remember thinking he was spooky and possibly crazy to believe in UFO's.
"Oh, really? I was under the impression that you were sent to spy on me." he looked at me, to see my reaction. Luckily I could control myself.
He then went into showing me things that he thought were evidence of UFO and Extraterrestrial life. Fake. Was all I thought. I don't believe, I need scientific evidence to be able to believe. If only I knew what the future may hold, I would have believed right there and then.
I come to from the past, when Mulder grabs my shoulders. I can see he asked me a question, so I just say: "yes." even though I've no idea what he said.
"So you agree that we should go take a naked mud bath together and paint each other with ancient symbols to get the aliens to visit. Good. I'm glad that's settled." he sounds quite real about that.
"Excuse me?" I ask with a slight note of worry.
"Well I asked if we should do that and you said 'yes'!" he looks at me, wearing my 'I'm not amused' expression "alright, you caught me out! I really asked: are you all right? You looked like you were in a trance. Your face gave it away, you looked confused and disorientated, like you didn't know what happened and were trying to remember where you were." Again he looked at me to see if I was following. "I then guessed that you hadn't heard me, and just said what you thought." he finishes, then sighs. "You should work on controlling your facial expressions. They haven't become any better since the first day I met you, and you tried to hide the fact that you may be spying on me." his face lights up when he sees my new reaction. I'm dumbfounded.
Not sure what to do, so I say: "got any evidence to prove that nice theory Mulder?" I walk out to make coffee.
The machine gurgles as it prepares the coffee. I wait beside it, drumming my fingers on the work surface. A person walks into the room, and makes a tea on the other side of the room. I don't pay much attention to them, and don't see their face. On their way out, they walk into me; knocking me to the ground. I get up a notice a piece of paper on the floor beside me. It reads:
Twelve strikes and it will begin.
Twelve till twelve, deep down in the skin.
Hold your breath, see what you find.
You may prevent death or cause it to bind.
The machine finishes my coffee, but I go back without it. When I enter the office Mulder looks up from his desk.
"Where's the Coffee Scully? I assume that's what you went to get." I see his face turns from mocking to alarm in a manner of seconds. "What's wrong? Did you see Skinner?" He actually is panicking now.
I hold out the piece of paper. He takes the paper from me, and reads it. He looks at me with no understanding.
"Practising your poetry now?" He hands the note back.
"No. It's not mine. Well, I didn't write it." I pause for breath. What do I tell him? That an anonymous FBI agent gave this to me? I assume it was an FBI agent. "Mulder, when I made coffee... There was this person. I didn't see them, not really. Anyway they walked into me and disappeared. They left this note in my possession." I sit down, and try to piece this together. What could it mean? "Mulder, what do you think it means? Is it just a poem, or a warning?"
"I'm not sure, but it's a hell of a poem. Let's put it that way."
I had the note checked for finger prints. The only ones on there are mine and Mulders. Whoever left it for me, sure knew what they were doing. I decide to go get some coffee, since I didn't have any the last time. This time the machine is quicker so I get Mulder one as well. I enter our office quietly because I hear talking. I find Mulder on his chair, eyes closed mumbling: "Twelve strikes and it will begin. Twelve till twelve, deep down in the skin. Hold your breath, see what you find. You may prevent death or cause it to bind." He pauses. Did he hear me? Then he starts again. "Hold your breath, see what you find... Hold your breath... Hold" He takes a deep breath and holds it in.
"Mulder, what are you doing?" I say, with a note of amusement.
He turns to me, eyes shut breath held in. His index finger is up signaling for me to give him a minute. He exhales loudly.
"See what you find." he says while opening his eyes. "It's you Scully. I see you. That's what I found. You." he chuckles and folds the note up, which is then placed in his suit blazer pocket. I sigh and put the coffees down in front of him. I think he may be looking to much into this, and I tell him that.
"Scully, why would you have received this if it didn't mean anything? I think that this does mean something. I think something will happen, and it will happen very soon. This may help us 'prevent death', like it says." Is what I get back.
"Yes, and it also says 'or cause it to bind'. That could mean that death may take many more lives than one, if we interfere." I explain.
"Well, I'm not waiting around for something to happen." He says while turning in his chair and shutting his eyes.
I go over to my desk and switch the computer on. I readjust my field report for the last case, but save it as a new file. This way skinner can read both a see what he thinks. We found a lot of evidence to suggest our hypothesis was correct, so maybe just the explanation of it in the report will convince him. It gets to mid-day.
"Mulder we need to go. Skinner is waiting." I quietly say, in case he's in thought.
"Mhmmm" is the answer I get.
I send the two computer files to the printer on the fifth floor. We then walk up the stairs instead of using the elevator, both of us are trying to delay the meeting.
When we get to the fifth floor I only find ones of the documents. Funnily enough, it's the edited one, written without mention of the stolen evidence.
"Mulder I'll be back in a minute." I say as I walk to the elevator. I push the button for the basement, I get to the forth floor and seven people get in. Three want the ground floor, one needs the seventh and two need the eighth and the last one needs the fifth. I'm glad I got in before or I might be waiting a while. We stop at the ground floor, only need to go down a level. The elevator goes up.
"What?" I half breath out.
That's not right, it should go down. I press the basement button again. We stop at the seventh, fifth then eighth before reaching the basement. Someone wanted to delay me, but why? Our office. They're in our office again. I run the rest of the way. I fling the door open, hoping to catch someone. No one's there, nothing I out of order. I'm paranoid.
I'll have to print the file again.
"That's funny."
The computers on. I'm sure I turned it off, probably forgot due to being in a rush. I look for the file.
"Damnit!" I yell. It's gone, the file's gone. They've deleted it. There's nothing I can do, so I rejoin Mulder.
"The report with the evidence in has gone, even the computer file has gone." I say in a loud voice. People look up from their desks.
"We'll have to use this one." He talks slowly and quietly, like he thinks they're listening. I don't doubt that they are listening, the question is: who is listening? The people Deep Throat used to work for, before he was shot? Perhaps. Maybe this whole thing is bigger than we thought. I know we are in over our heads and there is no going back, we've seen too much.
"Should we get to Skinner's office?" he asks. I nod. "After you" he teases and points ahead.
"What's next, I get to hold your arm?!" I joke back, as he actually offers his arm. Of course I brush it aside.
The smell of cigarette smoke fills the air, making it hard to breathe without coughing. As a doctor I know the damages it has to your health, so I turn my head away from Cigarette-smoking man. That's not his real name; but we don't know it, so we stick with the nickname. He despises us, we can tell from the numerous times he's worked against us. Or dropped us in trouble. A few months back the X-Files were shut down, when they were reinstated and Mulder and I could finally work together again, he wasn't happy. We later found out that he had done everything he could to keep us shut down. I guess you can't keep the truth hidden for ever. My thoughts are interrupted by Mulder, arguing with Skinner.
"Sir, I think we know what we saw. Can't you just believe us for once?" He stands up in his frustration and starts pacing. "We had the evidence to prove that UFO's exists, and that the Government has been experimenting with Alien viruses and technology." He sits again, hands on the arm rest of his chair.
"Agent Mulder, where is this so called evidence?" Skinner patronisingly says.
I can tell Mulder is going to say something he will regret, so I step in.
"Sir, is it not good enough that we solved the case?" I interject.
"Agent Scully, it would be if Agent Mulder hadn't said about the missing evidence." He sighs.
Skinner has a point, it's one thing to have evidence stolen, it's another thing to accuse the Government of these actions. Although I too have my suspicions. Cigarette-smoking man comes over from the window and sets his carton of cigarettes on Skinners desk. He lights another after putting one out.
"I think that's all" Skinner says.
As I get up my eyes are on the overflowing ash tray, and the cartoon of Cigarettes. I wonder how many he has a day?
"Would you like one Agent Scully?" Cigarette-smoking man asks. A smile crosses his face, and yellowing teeth are revealed. He knows I hate smoking, probably knows I don't like him too. He'd the kind of man that would work for the secret secret Government organisation that stole the evidence and killed Deep Throat. I ignore him and walk out. I hear him chuckle before I make it out of the door.
"Woah! Wait up Scully." Mulder yells.
I face him while he catches up, then immediately start off again. He's by my side and follows me out of the building. We walk for a while before I stop in a park.
"Perfect." I sigh.
People around, green grass, trees and not a federal agent in sight. I didn't come hear to relax. I want to scream and shout about the betrayal I feel from the bureau. I want to tell Mulder to give up chasing UFO's and E.B.E's, and to pursue a normal life that the government can't mess around with. What use is that? He will never give up. Not till he knows the truth. If only there was a way to find his sister. She was the start of this, when she was abducted at the age of eight. I want to help him, I do, but it feels useless even trying. Before I can say anything to Mulder, a gun is fired. The sound of screams and the tolling bell of midday hurts my ears. Where was the shot fired from? Who was the target? I turn to see, an old man fall to his knees. I hear the second shot. This time I see the bullet. I see it emerge from the other side of the old man's head.
#dana scully#special agent fox mulder#agent scully#special agent dana scully#agent mulder#fox mulder#mulder and scully#mulder#Scully#i want to believe#the x files#x files#science fiction#scifi#samblackwrites
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making out until your phone interrupts you two
characters: bakugou katsuki, midoriya izuku, todoroki shouto
genre: fluff, suggestive
word count: 2.8k+, 850-1000 words per character
warnings: characters are aged up, suggestive and mature content, implied sexual content, minors please beware
author’s note: how did these get as long as they did
copyright 2021 todoscript, all rights reserved. i do not allow my creations to be published or translated anywhere else.
BAKUGOU KATSUKI
As your soft hands brush along the nape of his neck and pinch at strands of ash blond hair, you feel his larger, calloused hands run along your thighs. Your lips come back for each other, hot and needy. Bakugou bites down harshly on your bottom lip, eliciting a squeal that grants him an opening to pry his tongue into your mouth to melt with yours. You follow in the frantic rhythm he sets, barely keeping pace as your grip on the slim fabric of his black tank top wrinkles in your curled fingers. Smirking, his hand runs up the skin beneath your shirt. He finds your squirming all the more amusing the more he rubs and gropes.
“Aw c’mon, babe. No fun if you’re already turning into pudding this fuckin’ early. Show some resistance, why don’t ya?” He eggs you on, but doesn’t cease in his ministrations, and in fact, only makes it harder for you to show any kind of fight. You detach your lips from his, pouting profusely with a scrunched nose. He looks back at you, expression sly and slick, well aware of what he’s doing. Well, you’re going to be sure he doesn’t get the last laugh.
Shifting all your weight onto his upper body, you move him over to lay down on the couch. He peers at your form towering above him, curious as to how you go about turning the tables against him tonight. His palms are flat on your thighs, remaining there as you settle your hands on his shoulders to balance yourself. You move your head down so your lips can touch and Bakugou cranes his neck slightly to meet you in the middle. However, a clamor sounding from a phone on the coffee table sends a rift in the atmosphere you’ve established and the incessant chime captures both of your attention. Your eyes go wide before blinking in realization that it’s your phone that’s going off right now.
Much to Bakugou’s dismay, you begin moving off of him. You get up to reach for your ringing phone, but his hand grabbing your wrist is faster.
“Don’t you dare answer it,” Bakugou orders, failing to suppress the blunt annoyance in his tone.
“What if it’s an important call from work?”
Hearing your response, he begrudgingly lets go of your wrist, sitting back on the couch, and grumbling beneath his breath.
“Fuck, it better not take long then.”
You playfully roll your eyes at him. You take a glance at the screen before pressing the green icon and nestle your phone next to your ear.
As you converse with the person on the other line, the blond is glaring knives at the device, no doubt mentally sending curses to whichever asshole decided to interrupt the mood just when things were starting to get good. Now he’s contemplating as to why he was generous enough to let you answer the damn phone in the first place. Shoulda just chucked that thing into the next room, left to be forgotten as the two of you would’ve been occupied with much more important matters.
In retaliation with his thoughts, he abruptly pulls your body into his lap, legs on either side of his thighs, straddling him. Being so occupied with your phone call, you don’t have much opportunity to comment on his behavior. In fact, Bakugou actually doesn’t allow you any opportunity.
Without warning, he plants his mouth on your neck, proceeding to nibble and suckle with just the right amount of pressure that makes you jolt in his lap. A small squeak leaves you, the noise eluded by the other person on the line thanks to you shifting your phone away from your mouth in time. You glare at the blond, silently asking with pointed brows what the hell he thought he was doing. But Bakugou only finds amusement in your struggles.
“Go on, keep talking, princess,” he mumbles loud enough for only you to hear and you feel his lips curl against your skin. You notice his hands busying themselves, tugging at the hem of your shirt, but despite that, you can’t do anything but continue with your conversation, unless you want your caller to start suspecting you’re undergoing other… activities as you were speaking to them.
You are so gonna get it later, mister. You mentally note your promises of retribution before returning to the chat while trying to ignore Bakugou’s mischief to the best of your ability.
After powering through the next couple of minutes of exchanges—your replies hastening and voice hitching whenever Bakugou’s ministrations became impatiently persistent—you finally say your hurried goodbyes, hitting the end call button.
That acts as Bakugou’s cue to pounce on you. He swipes your phone right from your fingertips and tosses it half-hazardously on the couch, out of your reach.
“Katsuki, you—!”
The moment you open your mouth to say something in retort, your words are cut off. Bakugou’s lips slot with yours to resume your intimate lip-lock, even more intense than earlier by how he barely allows you to draw a single breath.
“Oh no you don’t. No fucker is going to interrupt us this time, I’m going to make sure of that,” is the last he says before hoisting you up from your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist, and leading you both to your bedroom.
MIDORIYA IZUKU
Entering your living room, Midoriya finds you lounging on the couch with the TV on, curled up with a blanket and watching the latest episode of a show you’ve been following. He stretches out his muscles as he approaches you, body aching at every extension of his limbs. With his groans sounding rather exasperated, you face in his direction.
“Tired?” you question as Midoriya takes a seat beside you.
“Yeah, just a bit. The villains keep getting tougher these days,” he answers, cracking his knuckles, craning his neck to relieve a particular spot that’s been bothering him. You open up the blanket to let him take refuge in your warm haven and he scoots closer to you.
As expected of being the Number One Hero, his duties to the populace only grow more challenging with each passing moment. But he knows better than to complain about the job he was so heavily entrusted to by All Might. Besides, nothing beats saving the day and putting a smile on every citizen’s face. Well, nothing… except maybe spending time with you at the end of the day.
“I’m proud of you though, Izuku. You’ve been working so hard lately,” you say sweetly as your hand goes to massage Midoriya’s neck, rubbing at just the right areas that make him relax beneath your touch. “So proud of you.”
“Y-Yeah?” Midoriya doesn’t mean to stutter, but he fights back a groan when your fingers slowly travel up to his scalp.
“Yeah…” Your voice is tenderly hushed between you two, leaning in closer, to the point where your faces are seconds from touching. With your fingers still twined in his curly green hair, you angle him ever so slightly to meet the smoldering look in your eyes. It doesn’t take much for him to mirror the expression, eyes growing equally lidded and just as desirable. Then, before you had even realized it, you both closed the distance.
Tongue and teeth immediately clash. Midoriya is quick to overpower you as you let out a giggle, being forced to lay back on the couch. With your show inevitably about to be forgotten, the green-haired male smoothly reaches for the remote on your side before pointing the off button at the TV and tossing it to the ground.
He cradles your head from behind to bring your lips impossibly closer. Your hands remain laced through unruly emerald strands, occasionally tugging at his scalp, evoking a hum that vibrates between your lips coming together again and again.
When you finally separate after a rather lengthy session of lip-locking, your breaths are ragged—faces hot. He stares down at you, transfixed by your swollen, plush lips that he wishes to dive down again for more kisses.
“God, what did I ever do to deserve you?” he asks—a rhetorical question, but you smile at it nonetheless.
“I should be asking you that, Number One Hero.” You cup his face in your hands, thumb delicately brushing against those endearing freckles of his as you’re about to pull him down again.
But, just as your eyes close, waiting for your mouths to meet, the world splits open at a blaring echo crashing upon you. You abruptly halt your movements, watching as Midoriya does the same, eyes blown wide. You both turn your heads in the direction of the sound coming from the phone next to the kitchen.
“The phone…” Midoriya murmurs, wondering who would be calling at this hour. But upon glancing over at the wall clock, you remember something. It was actually around that time you were expecting a phone call from a friend of yours anyway. It had entirely slipped your mind after being so caught up in your make-out session with him.
“Sorry, Izuku. It’s probably for me,” you inform, an apologetic smile on your face as he slowly gets off you, allowing you to cease the ringing in the distance.
Sitting up on the couch, he watches you traverse to the kitchen, his elbows resting on his thighs. He drops his head into his hands, noticing his leg hopping up and down restlessly. It’s hard to come down from his high after getting worked up like that, and with that phone call appearing out of nowhere, he’s not sure what to do with himself other than not to get too excited.
Despite that, Midoriya musters the most patience as he possibly can. I mean, the amount of times you’ve been interrupted by Midoriya’s own urgent calls coming from his agency warrants him to exercise some self-restraint, knowing how riled up you could get at times, yet still kindly letting him go about his work like the saint you are.
But after a long day of patrolling the city and defeating foes, all Midoriya desires at the moment is to drown in all the love you have to offer him and leave everything behind to think of only you and him together. He overhears your conversation due to the silence spread across your living space, making out bits and pieces but never taking the time to distinguish the topic of your discussion.
No good, he thinks. Midoriya resigns to the fact he simply can’t keep as still as he would like, already getting up from the couch to seek you out. When he finds you, you’re laughing into the phone, likely finding whatever your friend said humorous, but when he wraps his arms around you, you jerk in surprise, that same laughter replaced by a quiet squeal. You feel Midoriya’s head tuck itself in the space linking your neck and shoulder, planting a single delicate kiss on the exposed skin. He glances at you, emerald eyes gleaming in a silent plea.
You smile in reply, understanding what he wants as you hold up a finger to tell him to give you a moment. “Um, sorry, I’ll have to call you back later. There’s something I have to do right now,” you say into the phone and after exchanging farewells, dismiss the call.
Turning in his arms, you come face-to-face with the relieved look in his eye. “Baby couldn’t wait?”
He releases a sigh, smiling warily. “You know I can never wait when it comes to you.”
TODOROKI SHOUTO
Fresh and clean out of the shower, you toss your towel around your slightly damp hair as you walk into the bedroom. Todoroki is already there waiting for you, sitting on the edge of your shared futon while checking something on his phone. Upon hearing your footsteps, he glances up, and smiles as soon as your eyes find each other. He clicks his phone off and sets it to the side before beckoning you over with spread arms.
You kneel in front of him and lean into his comforting embrace. His body is just the right temperature against you that soothes the heat abiding your skin from your steamy shower. Feeling you melt into his chest, he tilts his head, pressing his nose into your hair, and notes the fragrant scent of your shampoo that harmoniously washes over his senses.
“You smell… nice,” he comments, nuzzling his nose to your neck.
Honey… and vanilla…
You giggle at the tickling sensation. “I would hope so, considering I just took a shower.” Todoroki hums at your humor, lifting his head to find your eyes. He takes a moment to pay every detail its utmost attention, from your misty hair to the warmth flushed on your cheeks as his knuckles graze over your skin. You look away from his punctilious gaze, his gray and turquoise eyes making you feel small.
That won’t do, he thinks.
Before you can even process his actions, he leans forward to capture your lips. Taken by surprise, a faint sound floats above your mouth that is quickly swallowed by him.
Again… and again… and again.
As you let yourself surrender to the fervent kisses, Todoroki maneuvers you two onto your futon, where he hovers over you, lips never once parting throughout your movements. You hum in delight when his tongue immerses itself in your mouth. The gratuitous feeling doesn’t stick for long though.
A ringing sound resonates above the futon, and your attention is immediately diverted. Your motions falter beneath him, causing you to fall off beat now that your mind has one more thing to worry about. On the other hand, Todoroki is least bit concerned over the noise, unrelentingly nibbling at your lips to try and elicit more sweetness from them. Unfortunately, his fun is cut short as you lay your hand on his chest, lightly pushing him away so he removes his mouth from you.
“Shouto... My phone.”
Todoroki glances at the phone in question before returning to your form, disheveled under him. He gives you a look of indifference. “It can wait,” he states simply, about to dive down to resume what he started, but you don’t concede so easily.
“It could be important,” you reason.
Releasing a sigh, Todoroki allows you some space to turn over on your stomach and reach out for your phone, the chiming desisting as you answer it and greet whoever decided to call you at this time of night.
The conversation you’re having flies over Todoroki’s head. The only thing on his mind right now is you finishing the call and continuing where you two left off, praying it won’t take long.
However, eventually his impatience gets the best of him. His eyes wander the room simply to return to you—laying with your upper body propped on your pillow as you hover the phone next to your ear. He peeks at the small droplet of water trailing your hair just before it falls atop the skin of your neck. He seems almost mesmerized by it as it begins its trek down your collarbones, reveling in the enticing sight despite how ordinary it must be to the common eyes. For him, it just makes things all the more difficult to sit still.
Needy and with little to do, he shifts toward you.
“Right, and I– Ah!” your sentence slips on you mid-speech as you feel something cold touch the nape of your neck.
“Y/n? Everything alright?” your caller asks, static voice laced with concern that you almost overlook when the chilling sensation on your neck returns. You turn your head and discover Todoroki bending forward to place his lips repeatedly on your neck. You can’t tell if his lips are particularly colder than usual or if you’re still a little heated from your shower. Either way, the heightened sensitivity raises goosebumps on your skin.
“I-I’m fine! I just bumped into something, is all!” you reply, though your voice pitches, feeling Todoroki’s equally cool hands graze your back under your shirt.
“Oh, please be careful! The fatigue must be catching up with you after such a long day, and I did call you at a pretty late time, huh? Tell you what, we can talk about this again tomorrow morning so you can get your rest for the night, okay?”
You are beyond grateful for the convenience bestowed to you. Though, you honestly think resting is surely the last thing on a certain someone’s mind right now.
“Right! Thank you..! Have a good night!” With that, you promptly end the call. Repositioning onto your back, you cross eyes with Todoroki, making a point at hardening your expression and seeming offended. Though the man knows it’s more so a facade than anything and that you’re not actually angry at him.
“Oh, you..!” You emphasize your words with a bump of your fist against his shoulder, albeit with minimal strength.
He chuckles at your pouty lips, leaning down for a peck before moving some hair out of your face. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself,” he admits, the curve of his lips bordering on a smirk and a genuine smile that you find hard to be mad at.
“Shall we resume where we left off then?”
#bnha x reader#bakugou x reader#todoroki x reader#midoriya x reader#bakugo x reader#bnha headcanons#bnha imagine#bnha scenarios#mha x reader#bakugou imagine#midoriya imagine#todoroki imagine
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Thank You For The Tragedy. I Need It For My Art [Kurt Cobain]
Part 1: Aqua Sea Foam Shame
| Part 2 |
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x female!reader
Summary: You discover something that makes you wonder if your time is at its end.
Warnings: Implied/referenced cheating, drug use (marijuana/cocaine), angst, emotional hurt/comfort, polyamorous relationship, threats of violence, pet names (little mama/mama, sweetie, honey), and even more angst (I am SO sorry)
A/N: I can't answer questions about this chapter. You can definitely send asks about it, but if it's a question specific to this chapter, I'll answer it after part 2 is published. Sorry <3
18+ ONLY PLEASE! MINORS DNI. If you hit Keep Reading you agree that you're 18 or older.
I do not consent to having my work copied, translated, or posted on any other site. The ONLY places my work should appear are@luxeavenger on Tumblr and Ao3
Backstage Pass Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-fi
Please reblog if you enjoy!
Tonight is the last of three shows in Cali, and the crowd is absolutely feral. The Howling Commandos stop at four encores, even though the sweaty masses are rabid for a fifth.
You thread through the throbbing crowd and head to the restroom to freshen up. You check yourself in the mirror, fingers plucking at your purple fishnets and the hole in the thigh that Steve tore in them earlier when one of his big rings caught on them in his haste to get his fingers on your clit. You’re wearing Bucky’s favorite Runaways t-shirt, Cherry Bomb plastered on the front in retro letters. It’s feather-soft with age, and the neck had torn off ages ago, so it hangs off one shoulder, showing off the still-healing tattoo of Bucky’s name on your collarbone, and the shield inked on your sternum. Your hair is a sweaty mess, and you do your best to finger-comb it into looking presentable.
Lastly you swipe some pretty pink lip gloss over your lips. You’d been chewing on them throughout the show, and now they’re heartbreaker plump and pouty, so you can’t resist making those dick-sucking lips all shiny and pink for your men.
Now that the floor is clear of most of the crowd, you make your way backstage. You see Steve and Bucky, and skid to a halt. Their backs are to you, and their arms are around a woman who is decidedly not you.
Your heart gives a painful lurch in your rib cage, miles beneath the names tattooed on your chest, the ink still fresh enough to itch without lotion.
They’re out of your sight now, and though every cell in your body wants you to turn tail and run, to not follow where you fear this will inevitably lead, you finally lurch forward, hollowly asking Scott where the green room is, and heading off in the direction he points.
Just outside of the green room is where your aching heart finally ruptures, and you bleed out alone, right there on the concrete floor. Because there sits Steve, with this new woman next to him, and Bucky sitting across from them. This woman—some rockabilly pinup girl, complete with a wiggle skirt, shiny red fuck-me pumps, and victory rolls in her chestnut hair—is curled up against Steve’s side, looking up at him like he hung the sun. Her tattoo-covered hand rubs delicately over his thigh when her MAC Give-Me-Fever-red lips kiss Steve’s scruffy cheek.
“Oh no, little mama,” comes Clint's voice from beside you. You’re paralyzed, still dying the slow death of an insect swept up in amber when his calloused hand catches yours, and pulls you away.
He takes you back to the tour bus while you try to remember if you were ever able to feel your organs before this moment, because you definitely feel them now. Your heart is like lead in your chest, a weight bearing down its tender companions, and poisoning your systems with each sickening beat. You’re a walking corpse. A ghost, who hasn’t quite figured out she’s dead yet, lost forever under bright California stars.
You frantically keep replaying the past few days in your head. Wondering what you’d done. Why this is happening. It seemed like everyone had fun hanging out with Thor and Loki. It didn’t seem like anything that happened with the two bikers upset Steve or Bucky. The sex with your partners had been phenomenal, as it always was. Hell, you and Steve had fucked Bucky so good this morning he couldn’t get his legs underneath him for almost an hour afterwards.
Clint gently shakes you alert again. “Hey,” he keeps repeating himself until your eyes focus on him. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I know that’s what you’re thinking, mama. I can see it on your face. This isn’t about you, or anything you did. Okay?”
Nat’s bunk is below his, so for simplicity’s sake, he guides you to it. He crawls in behind you, and grabs a tin off of Nat’s shelf and sets to work rolling a joint. When he’s done he lights it, then flips it around so it’s between his lips with the cherry in his mouth. He takes your face in his hands, tugging your jaw open with his thumb, and shotguns smoke into your mouth.
You wonder why he doesn’t just pass you the joint, then you notice that your hands are shaking. Your whole body is. Your bones are rife with earthquakes that have taken hold in your marrow, and spread their shaky little tendrils through their calcium prisons and into your flesh.
He gives you a few more hits like that until the shaking subsides. The air in the bunk is hazy and blue with smoke when Nat opens the curtain. Clint quietly explains to her what’s going on, and you finally give in to the tears that have been teasing your eyes since Clint found you.
Nat looks at you and immediately climbs into the bunk, and wraps you in a warm hug—Nat always runs hot after a show—and rocks you while you sob. “Oh honey. It’s okay. Get it out. It’s okay.”
Clint leaves you with Nat so he can shower and change out of his sweaty clothes, and Nat does the same once he returns. Clint starts rubbing calming circles on your back, and you surprise him by throwing your arms around his neck and burying your face in his shoulder. His smell is crisp and clean: amber, freshly cut grass, and mint. Comforting because there’s nothing about it that reminds you of Bucky or Steve. He gathers you into his lap so he can hold you tight.
It’s been two hours since you saw them with her, and they still haven’t come back to the bus. This seems to confirm your worst fears. Clint asks quietly, “Do you know who she is?”
“No. Am I supposed to?” you sniffle.
Clint sighs, “It’s their ex, Peggy.”
“Their? Like both of them?”
“Yeah, little mama,” he nods against the top of your head, “but they called it quits with her a year before they even met you.”
“Why did they break up?” you ask, still trying to do the math and figure out why this pain had come knocking at your door.
Clint shakes his head, “That I can’t say. It’s their story to tell, not mine.”
“Why have they been gone so long?” you ask mournfully.
“I don’t know, mama” he presses a kiss to the top of your head, “I really don’t know.”
You’d fall asleep in Clint’s lap at some point, and you wake to heavy boots stomping up the RV steps. You see Nat is back in the bunk, wearing Clint’s boxer briefs and a sports bra, her short hair still damp, and combed away from her face. She’s playing a game on her phone. Clint has laid you down on the mattress next to him, still rubbing a soothing hand over your back occasionally. Alpine is curled against your chest, making biscuits against your arm, and purring up a storm.
Steve and Bucky head to their bunk first, looking for you. They’re talking too loudly, and their speech is slurred, so they must have had a hell of a lot of alcohol for their turbo-charged metabolisms to have held onto it long enough for them to sound drunk.
When they don’t find you waiting for them, they knock on the wood between Nat and Clint’s bunk. She opens the curtain just enough to climb out, and squares up with both of them. They’re taken aback when suddenly confronted with a furious redhead.
“Have you seen Y/N?” Bucky asks.
“You assholes have a lot of fucking nerve to come in here asking for her now. Like this.”
“What?” Steve asks, sounding confused.
“Don’t fucking ‘what’ me, Rogers, you’ve still got her fucking lipstick on your cheek.”
From inside of the bunk you count five whole Mississippi’s where neither of them speak.
Steve reaches for the curtain. Then there’s a quiet snick, and Nat’s snarling, “Steve, if you touch that fucking curtain I will cut your dick off and feed it to the fucking cat.”
Bucky sounds dead sober now, and frantic as fuck when he pleads with Nat, “Is she in there? Please, just let us explain.” He reaches out to swipe the curtain aside.
“Bucky, I fucking mean it. Don’t touch that curtain. The next person who reaches for it is going to be pissing out of a rubber tube for the rest of his life.”
“Goddamnit, Steve,” Bucky hisses, “I fucking told you something bad would happen.”
They must retreat to their bunk because Nat’s back, flipping her switchblade back into its handle. She takes one look at the fresh tears sliding down your face and pulls you against her. Your head pillowed on her chest, she holds you tight and repeats, “It’s okay, honey. It’s okay,” like it’s a spell, and maybe it is, because it’s the last thing you hear before you fall asleep.
You wake the next afternoon in another state, with Alpine curled around your head like a hat. You’re disoriented at first because the smells are strange and you aren’t flanked by two muscular walls of heat. Then it all comes crashing back to you in an instant.
Nat’s against the wall at your feet eating a bowl of Cocoa Puffs. She passes you a lukewarm cup of coffee. “Sorry it’s cold. I didn’t want to wake you.” She pauses, then, “They’re still here,” she tells you softly. “If you don’t want to see them I can bring you some food.” You forlornly shake your head. She kisses your cheek and tells you she’ll be back in ten, and Clint is up top in his bunk if you need him. She has a quiet conversation with him before she leaves.
You check your phone. It’s nearly dead, and there’s eighty-two missed texts from Steve and Bucky, just from the past six hours.
You scan through, but it’s a lot of the same:
“It’s not what you think.”
“Please let us explain.”
“She doesn’t mean anything to us.”
“Can we just talk?”
“I love you.”
“We’re sorry.”
You sign and turn your phone off. You’re afraid of complete ruin, too broken right now to risk them stomping the shattered pieces of you into powder under their feet.
You hear a rustle, and the thump of Clint hitting the ground. “She doesn’t want to talk to you guys.”
“Goddamnit, Clint,” Steve gripes, “we just want to explain.”
“We want to apologize,” Bucky amends, sounding tired and angry.
“That’s all fine and good, but she’s our family too, and if she doesn’t want to talk to you, we’re going to make goddamn sure she doesn’t have to,” Clint says. Then he pokes his head in the bunk, “What about it, mama? You want to talk to either of them?” You shake your head, feeling the prickly heat of tears collecting in your eyes again. A sob tears out of your chest unbidden, and Bucky barks a desperate curse. Clint wipes a tear from your cheek, “It’s okay, sweetie,” he says soothingly before standing again.
“Fuck off, guys,” Clint says simply. He crosses his arms over his chest.
Steve bristles, “You know, Clint,” he says flatly, “we could make you move.”
Nat’s voice comes from behind them, “You could fucking try.” She sounds cold and detached. Dangerous. You remember what Steve and Bucky told you about their time in the service with Clint and Nat. And at this exact moment there’s not a doubt in your mind that she and Clint could give Steve a run for his money.
The tension on the bus is sky high, and for a moment—for everyone else’s sake—you’re ready to give in and parade your wounded heart out in front of the men who’d shredded it in the first place.
“Steve, stop being an asshole,” Bucky chides, “forcing her to talk to us isn’t going to make anything better. Neither is beating up our family.”
Steve stomps away, brushing by Nat on the way out. “Prick,” she growls after him.
Bucky has a quiet conversation with Clint and Nat before sighing heavily and exiting the bus alone.
Clint pokes his head back in, “They’re gone now. I don’t know about Steve, but Bucky said he’d stay gone until it was time to get ready for the show. Why don’t you come on out, stretch your legs, and eat something. Can you believe we’re parked next to a Waffle House? Nat brought pancakes! And bacon!” His animated face warms your heart, when he offers you his hand you gladly accept. Alpine follows after you, weaving between your legs and chirping at you happily.
That’s how you live for the next week. The first couple days you stay with Clint or Nat. They take good care of you. Holding you when you’re sad, getting you stoned when you feel too fragile, telling you stories about each other when you just need the company. But after Steve stops trying to make you talk to him, you move your stuff into the mostly vacant bunk so you don’t keep crowding Clint and Nat. It’s actually Scott’s bunk, but he got a fancy new reclining seat for the RV, and he’s slept in that more often than not ever since.
When Steve and Bucky are in the RV you stay holed up in the bunk. You only venture out when they’re gone. Clint and Nat bring you food, and hang out with you when Bucky and Steve are home. You pass whole days doing nothing but watching movies, snuggling Alpine, and playing Uno or Cards Against Humanity with Nat and Clint.
Once you’re in Seattle it feels a bit safer to leave the bunk, so you start going to the Howlies shows again. But you leave early so you can avoid seeing them afterwards. They’ve added a cover of Nirvana’s All Apologies to the end of their set. They dedicate it to you.
| Part 2 |
#bucky barnes x steve rogers x reader#stucky x reader#bucky barnes x steve rogers x you#bucky barnes x steve rogers x female!reader#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes fanfiction#steve rogers smut#steve rogers fanfiction#stucky#stucky smut#stucky fanfiction#bucky barnes imagine#steve rogers imagine#marvel fanfiction#peggy carter#rockstar au#backstage pass series#reader insert#rockstar!bucky barnes#rockstar!steve rogers#rockstar natasha romanoff#rockstar!clint barton#evie.writes#angst#drug use#natasha romanoff#clint barton
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welcome home.
jason todd x gender neutral reader. 2,086 words.
notes: requested by an incredibly flattering anon as part of my hundred followers celebration! thank you again for the feedback, and for enabling me :)
also was subconsciously influenced by this piece.
warnings: arguing, discussion of danger, reader gets accidentally threatened, patching up wounds, lots more swearing than my usual (but it's all mild language). angst and comfort, i think. super dialogue heavy. this is so long and a little (lot) messy just. prepare yourself
"man," a robotic voice echoed dangerously through the dark living room, sending chills through you. "did you pick the wrong apartment."
luckily, the voice was familiar. "um, the one i live in?"
he choked out your name, startled, and you flicked on the light switch to find him frozen in place with a gun in his hand.
"right." you said tensely, glancing at it- which made him jerk his hand down, shoving the gun into its holster as though it burned him- and looking back up at the eyes of his helmet. "so, uh, i'll turn a light on next time."
"you shouldn't be home yet," he said stiffly.
"i texted you like, three hours ago to let you know i'd be home a day early."
he swore quietly. "my phone's in the river."
"how did it- you know what, at least that explains the radio silence. you didn't think to have someone else- anyone else- let me know?"
"uh." he paused, tensing almost imperceptibly for a moment. "no. i was, uh, i was busy. i'm sorry."
"busy, huh?" something felt very wrong, and not just the fact that he had nearly shot you. "okay, i'll bite, busy with what?"
"nothing important."
the sinking feeling in your stomach intensified and your eyes narrowed dangerously. "important enough that you forgot to tell me you weren't dead in an alley somewhere, when you knew i'd be texting to check in anyway. leaving me worrying in a hotel room in another city."
"nothing out of the ordinary, nothing to worry about." you were really getting sick of the sound of his modulator, but he continued before you could say anything. "go back to what you were doing, babe."
"yeah... uh, no." you stepped forwards and he flinched back defensively, making you freeze. "seriously, what is up with you tonight?"
"noth-"
"jason, i promise if you say nothing one more time, i'm going to lose my mind."
he shifted his foot back slightly, and you took a deep breath.
"okay," you conceded, raising your hands up in surrender and moving backwards yourself. "respecting your space now. that wasn't my best decis-"
your voice cut out when something under his jacket caught your eye.
something red.
"holy crap, jason, what the hell?"
he winced quietly. "you weren't supposed to be home yet, okay?"
"take that stupid helmet off already, would you?" you snapped, already moving to get the first aid kit.
"i would've gone somewhere else if i'd known, okay?" his voice, now clear and crisp without the filter, followed you down the hall.
"that does not make this better!"
"can you please not yell at me right now?"
you dashed back into the room, shooting a vicious glare at him. "jacket."
he slid it off gingerly, dropping it on the couch next to his helmet.
"can you get the armor, or do i need to help?"
even despite the domino mask he was wearing, you could tell he was rolling his eyes. "if i couldn't do it on my own, why would i have come here if i didn't think you'd be home?"
"hm," you took the piece he handed you and carefully set it on the couch, "maybe because you're a stubborn jackass?"
he grunted, sliding his undershirt off and passing it to you. "i don't wanna stain the couch with that."
"your priorities suck."
"it's the nicest piece of furniture we own!"
"it's still a couch!"
"it was expensive!"
"oh for crying out loud-" you threw your hands up again, this time in frustration. "fine! fine. i'll go put this in the tub and get a soak going. you-" you shoved the kit towards him pointedly- "start washing that off."
"how come you're calling the shots?" he snapped back petulantly.
"because my torso's in one piece."
"i have way more experience with this, i should be making the decisions here."
"oh, of course, my apologies!" your voice was absolutely dripping in sarcasm. "what, pray tell, would you have us do?"
he scowled at you for a moment before reaching for the first aid kit and flicking the lid open. "whatever."
you turned on your heel, stomping into the bathroom.
the shirt got thrown into the tub and the tap got tossed all the way on, and as the water crashed into the gray fabric, you took the opportunity to squeeze your eyes shut and breathe deeply.
you opened your eyes a minute later, finding the water dyed a rusty almost-red from blood.
his blood.
you turned off the tap- gently pushed the handle, this time, the fire in your chest now largely extinguished- and made your way back to the living room to find him running a rag over the space below his ribs.
"may i?" you asked softly, stopping a few feet away and holding a hand out to him.
his jaw clenched and relaxed three times in quick succession, but he finally sighed and dropped his shoulders before holding the rag out. "yeah, c'mere."
you worked in silence, being as gentle as possible. jerking your hand back and mumbling apologies when he hissed.
"s'okay, comes with the territory."
you pressed the alcohol-soaked towel back against him, and he sighed.
"that was stupid, huh."
a small laugh escaped you. "it so was."
"can we..."
"try that again?"
"yeah."
you pulled back, standing up straight to meet his eyes. "only if i can take the dumb mask off of you."
"i thought you liked the mask," he teased, a small smirk tugging at his lips.
"jason."
he chuckled, wincing again when it jostled his wounds. "ouch. uh, yeah, mask. g'head."
you gently pulled it from his face, setting it neatly on his other gear before running your thumbs across the line of adhesive it left on his cheekbones. "hi there."
"hey." he leaned into your touch, vibrant eyes fluttering halfway shut. "so uh, welcome home."
"thanks. could've done without the gun, though."
a choking sound tore from his throat, his eyes flying back open. "holy shit, baby, i almost-" he jerked back from you, no regard for his side. "you almost- shit, shit, are you- i'm so sorry, i didn't-"
"okay, woah, hey-"
"i could have killed you."
it was a whisper, horrified and harsh, and while it was technically true, his tone teetered on the edge of a dark space you had seen before and really didn't want him falling back into.
"yeah."
you desperately searched for the right thing to say, rejecting variations of "but hey, you didn't actually", "maybe you should be more careful about waving a gun at people", and one particularly unhelpful "no shit, sherlock".
finally, you settled on a quiet, calm "but i'm still right here, okay?"
his hand flew up to cover his mouth, doing absolutely nothing to hide the near panic written on his features. "i could have killed you."
"okay, so, in the future, we'll... we'll uh, we'll come up with some kind of system for letting you know when i'm home, or something."
"oh, like a phone?" he asked harshly. "the one i was stupid and sloppy enough to dunk in the harbor?"
"that wasn't- i'm guessing that you had a lot on your plate." you waved the cold, bloody towel in your hand at his wounds. it made him curl in on himself slightly, stepping backwards again until his back hit the arm of the couch.
"no excuses. i could have killed you."
"i-"
"no, i almost shot without saying anything!" he exclaimed, brow furrowed and eyes stormy. "i thought someone had broken in, and i got so- i don't even know, damn territorial or some stupid shit- that i almost put a bullet between your eyes. i could have-"
"jason!"
he screwed his eyes shut and dropped his head, roughly tugging his fingers through his hair. "i almost-"
"but you didn't. okay?" every fiber of your being wanted to hold him, to tug him into you and put his hand against your ribs and show him you were okay and breathing, heart still pumping, but he looked enough like a cornered animal that you half expected him to bite you if you tried. "c'mon, jaybird. a life like yours, can you really afford almosts?"
"life like mine, i can't afford to let anyone close to me. apparently, if the goons and thugs don't kill you, i will."
"that's not-"
"what if i hadn't said something?" he snapped venomously. "what if i'd lost more blood and was loopy from it? what if i'd come home with a concussion- again- and didn't think past 'point and shoot'?"
"jason," you finally interjected. "you think i haven't thought about that?"
his eyes, grim and vicious and so full of emotion that you thought you could drown in them, dropped to the floor.
"because it's not a secret that your life is risky. you're risky. i know that. but you're worth every ounce of danger, okay? i'm choosing this, choosing you, knowing full well what i'm getting into, because you're worth all of it."
"i'm not worth any of it."
"that's not your call to make."
"it-"
"you think i need you to make my choices for me?"
"no, of course not."
"you think im stuck here?"
"do you feel like you are?"
"absolutely not." you inched forward again. "i'm here because i want to be."
"...i just... i don't..."
"don't want me to get hurt?"
he finally looked back up at you, eyes watery and jaw tense. "or worse."
"i know, baby. i know," you sighed. "but that's part of life, right? and if the hurt's inevitable, i want the rest of my time to be as nice as possible, and you make my life better. make me better."
"by putting you in danger?"
"it's gotham, handsome, i'm gonna be in danger either way. at least with you, i know i have someone looking out for me. right?"
"always," he said immediately.
"okay then." you took the last step between the two of you slowly, watching for any resistance. meeting none, you brushed your knuckles against his. "i can't think of anywhere i'd feel safer."
"you know that's crazy, right?"
you hummed quietly. "nah."
"i'm being serious."
"me too."
he studied your face silently. you smiled softly at him.
finally, a sigh escaped him and he scooted his hand forward, wrapping his index finger around your own and squeezing gently. "you're sure you want this? i can set you up with a place downtown for a bit. you'd never have to see me again, never have to worry about... all of this."
"i've never been more sure of anything." you said it firmly, confidently, letting the words hang in the air for a few moments before popping one eyebrow up playfully. "why, need to make room for a side piece?"
a startled choking sound escaped him. "excuse me?"
"i mean, when you were talking about being busy, it felt kinda suspicious."
"what is wrong with you?" he asked, exasperation and laughter coating his voice.
"listen, you were being evasive!" his head fell forwards, resting on your shoulder as he laughed.
"i didn't want you to know i was bleeding all over the place!"
"why, didn't want me to worry?"
"exactly!"
you reached your free hand up, gently resting it on the back of his head and playing with his hair. "then maybe, just maybe, you should have gotten someone to tell me your phone went for a swim."
"fair enough."
you stood quietly for a long time, running your fingers through his hair and enjoying the feeling of his breath against your collar.
"i..." he muttered, pulling back to look in your eyes. "i don't think- um. i don't think i'm..." he groaned, gaze darting to the ceiling. "i love you. but the minute you have enough of- of all of this-"
"i won't."
"but if you do, i'll... i'll understand, okay?"
you squeezed his finger gently. "okay." you inhaled deeply, dropping the bloody towel you were still clutching and slid your hand forward to hold his completely. "can we get a bandage on that and go to bed, now?"
"....yes please."
---
"wait!" you yelled, throwing the first aid kit haphazardly onto the bathroom counter and racing after him into the bedroom, where he whirled around with wide eyes. "i love you too! i never said it back- i love you too."
"don't yell like that- i thought something was wrong!"
"me not saying it back is urgently wrong, jason!"
#citrine writes#this was. this was a monster#i sure hope you enjoy because i'm unsure how quality it is#jason todd#jason todd x y/n#jason todd x you#jason todd imagine#jason todd x reader#imagines#dc#dc imagines#dc imagine#blood cw#medical cw
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Broken Rules and Ruined Lace
Pairing:Tom Holland x Reader
AU:No
Word Count:3,134
A/n:Um, this is just pure filth pretty much, its slightly edited so I hope it is good but I am not sure…I think everything I write is shit so um, feedback is greatly appreciated.
Warnings: Smut Masturbation, Dom/Sub Dynamics, Slight Degradation, Cum Play, Cum, Dom!Tom, Smut, Oral(F receiving), unprotected sex, orgasm control, orgasm denial, spanking(one mention). I think that is everything if not I am sorry.
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It’s not that you wanted to break Tom’s rule, you didn’t want to be his brat, you really wanted to be his good girl. But as soon as you woke up you knew that you were fighting a losing battle and all you could do was try and hold off the inevitable.
You remember when Tom set the rule, both of you laying in bed, your had rested on his sweaty chest as you stared up at his flushed face, entranced by the movement of his lips, they were still wet with your arousal and his spit, the slickness catching the minimal rays of light in the shadowed room causing the thing yet plump flesh to glisten, distracting you from his words.
“Y/n?” he gave your head a light tug, forcing your eyes to meet his “Are ya listening to me?” His accent was thick and words were stern.
“No, sorry”
“I was saying you can’t touch yourself without permission” he growled, mashing his mouth to yours teeth hitting each other with the pressure of the open mouthed kiss. “So no more of what you did today, you hear me?” he asked, breathing heavily from the intensity of the kiss, his eyes looking deep into yours searching for recognition, you gave it to him in the form of a nod and a quiet “Yes, Tommy” before curling even further into him.
As you recalled what that night you knew you should be focusing on the assertiveness he used when speaking to you but all you could think about was how his lips felt on yours. On days like these his words never left your mind, but today you were more focused on remembering your cum on his lips. You knew that you needed permission but you didn’t want to bother with asking him if you could get off without him. Deep down you knew the excuse of not wanting to bother him was simply that, an excuse because you knew what his answer would be and it would be so much easier to disobey if he didn’t know that you had been thinking about it already, if he didn’t know to check if you had broken, if he didn’t remind you of the consequences.
When you had woken up Tom was already gone, you knew that he had press for Spider-Man No Way Home which was premiering tonight, your cunt on the other hand, had a mind of its own. As soon as you had fully awoken you felt a heat in your core, a fire that was waiting to be stoked, one that the clenching of your thighs in an attempt to alleviate the desire only worsened. A small whimper passing your lips as your thighs pressed your labia together, applying pressure to your swollen clit. You tried to ignore it, hauling your ass out of bed and to the kitchen, fixing yourself a nice cup of tea, sipping slowly as you tried to focus on anything else. The burn of the hot liquid on your tongue or how the marble counter was digging into your lower back, even Tessa’s cold nose nuzzling your calf, but nothing was working.
Deciding to put off making a choice until after breakfast, you fixed yourself something to eat. Focusing on the food in front of you as you did your best not to burn anything. Your brain was a debate, divided and arguing over the pros and cons. The pros were simply that you would get off, that the burning itch of ecstasy would go away, the cons well out weighed them, Tom’s punishment should have been threat enough but the state you were in was something past rationality. You surprised yourself by your decision that you were gonna do it. Eyes looking at the clock on the oven, the digital flash of numbers alerting you that Tom would be home in a couple hours, enough time for you to have your fun and not get caught.
You felt a little bad about disobeying Tom, but as soon as your hypersensitive skin met your sheets, and the pads of your fingers touched your clit, all guilt evaporated from you. Your mind was on him the whole time, how his fingers felt in you and on you. Pinching your nipples between your thumb and pointer finger, rolling the nub gently as you rubbed your clit furiously. Your body had been ready to go since you woke up, your orgasm building mere minutes after you began, your fingers covered in your slickness, you wished they could be cleaned by Tom’s tongue. You wanted it to be his fingers or better yet his cock that grazed over your g-spot making you dive into the pool of ecstasy that overflowed in your lower belly. You came down from your high, eyes falling upon the large blotch of liquid that squirted from your core, tainting your pure grey sheets, you assured yourself that it would dry before Tom got home not finding it in you to change the bed sheets.
You felt much more calm, your body feeling less like it was vibrating in a high speed desire ridden anxiety, it felt like you could breath and like you weren’t about to explode. You looked at the clock, knowing that you needed to get ready and you still had just over enough time to get yourself to the state that was presentable to the world. Making your way to the bathroom, turning on the shower and stepping in, scrubbing your hands clean, trying to rid them of your strong scent.
Tom came home from the press junket an hour later, already ready for the event, having had to be all put together since this morning for press. You heard him, his footsteps sounding on the hardwood floor followed loudly by Tessa’s claws clicking as she ran up to him, his voice was tired and beautiful, sounding like home and calling to you.
“Love, you here?”
“Up here Tommy” you shouted in response, continuing to apply your final bits of makeup to be prepared for the evening, specifically the red carpet. Tom followed the sweet notes of your voice, wanting nothing more than to hold you in his arms, to ground himself from all the insanity that was the countless interviews. Tom found his plans changing when he saw something on the covers of your shared bed, his eyes catching on some patches of dampness on the grey duvet cover, they were mostly dry but still altering the color of the sheet a shade darker than it would normally be. His eyebrows raised up his forehead he went to check it was, making sure that Tessa hadn’t peed on the bed again. As soon as got near the spots a familiar scent hit him, arguably his favorite smell, one that almost always made his cock harden, the only exception being when he was already fucked out. It was the smell of your arousal, your cum to be more specific.
He was confused, you hadn’t had sex in a couple of days so why would your cum be on the sheets, unless you broke his rule. He felt a fury boil inside of him, mindlessly drawing him to where you stood in front of the mirror preparing yourself for the premier of his movie tonight.
“Hi Tommy!” you spoke excitedly as you could, your focus on the spooly in your hand applying mascara to your lashes. Without a word his hand wrapped around your wrist pulling your dominant hand to his face.
“Tom what the fuck” you exclaimed, angry that he had interupted you and almost ruined your face of make up but that anger melted quickly, realizing what he was doing as he unfurled your pointer and middle finger from around the mascara wand, bringing them to his nose as he glared at you.
The scent was faint on his nose, not as noticeable as it had been on the bed sheets but yet it was still present, hidden under multiple bouts of hand washing trying to rinse your disobedience down the drain with your lavender scented hand soap but clearly you hadn’t be thorough enough, the faintest hint still present.
“Tom, I-”
“No talking” he bit at you, your mouth shutting immediately as you nodded at his words. He pushed his body against yours, the imprint of his dick showing through his trousers before it pressed against you. His lips burn the skin on your neck before scratching his teeth over the juncture of your shoulder and your collar bone, biting down hard, making you hiss at the pain. “You broke the rule, I should have expected that you being the little fucking brat that you are” he chastized, his fingers bunching up the edges of your dress, hiking it up until the ruffled silk sat above the round of yoru ass, you barely clothed core visible to Tom’s hungry eyes as he knelt infront of you, fingers slipping inbetween your thighs and forcing them apart, a wave of yoru arousal hitting his nose. “You smell so sweet, I would love to devour your pretty little cunt but that’s only for good girls’’ he leans in and bites your mons, the lace barely protecting you from the blunt of his teeth.
The lace scrunched up beneath his teeth as he tugged it farther from your burning skin, pulling them downwards as he exposed your core, mouth watering as he saw your wetness connect to the crotch of your panties to your cunt. He had to remind himself that he couldn’t that you didn’t deserve it, that he was angry with you, but god did you look fucking delicious.
“Im gonna fuck you so hard, your legs are gonna shake the whole way down the red carpet, you’re gonna need me there to hold you up, even though you don’t need me cause you got off on your own” Tom spat, undoing his belt buckle.
“I do need you” you whimpered, the cold on your core nearing pain, all the blood rushing between your thighs increasing your sensitivity, the contrast of the chilled atmosphere on your burning skin already too much for you to handle.
“What did I say about talking, pretty girl” his often soothing voice coming out as a snarl. Taking the base of his cock he ran his tip through your folds, coming downwards over your clit before stopping at your entrance, thrusting into you without any warning, fully entering you with the first thrust. Tom watched as you bit your lip, nearly hard enough to draw blood.
“Good girl, stay quiet” he ordered as he started to thrust, the impetus of his hips making his balls slap against your taint, a jolt rolling up your spine as you felt every inch of him pulsing inside of you.
You wanted to scream, to whine, to moan, but all you could do was bite your lip as the pleasure started to overtake your body, every inch of your body being set aflame as Tom continued his thrusts. Tears were pricking your eyes as his hand gripped into your yielding and supple flesh, you felt your orgasm building, and you knew that Tom was too, his tip twitching against your walls, but just as you were about to unravel he pulled out, grabbing his cock and sliding his hand up and down it, thick white spools of cum shooting out, and landing on your panties, tainting the french lingerie that Tom had bought you on a romantic get away not long before. You were less worried about the lace, more about the intensified burning between your thighs that you now knew wasn’t being satisfied or eased anytime soon.
“It’s time to go,” Tom informed, pulling back from you leaving you standing there, your face portraying nothing but shock, eyes flitting between the cum that tainted your red lace panties and Tom’s smirking face. He tugged your panties back up your legs, soothing the lace over your core and spreading the cum across your folds before planting a kiss on your lips. “Come on” he tugged your wrist and led you down stairs to head to the event.
At the red carpet you felt his cum cooling on your folds and slipping between them, spreading around with every single step you took, you felt it seeping through your lace, smearing on your thighs and making them sticky. It was all you could think about the whole evening, how it continued to spread and absorb into your soft skin, it felt too much, and he wasn’t even touching you. Tom could tell how much it was affecting you, occasionally rubbing his hand up your thigh and gathering a little on his fingers, sneakily placing them in his mouth and sucking them clean. When you arrived home, you were a mess, your thighs sticking with his cum but slipping with your own arousal. It was enough to make you cum just thinking about it, and you were pretty sure you could if given the chance, but you weren’t. As soon as you reached the solace of your bedroom Tom spoke up, really the first time since before the event.
“Let’s get ready for bed” he suggested, causing a frown to overtake your face, but not wanting to make things worse you gave a curt nod and headed to the bathroom, grabbing one of Tom’s shirts on the way in there. You stripped yourself of your constraining dress, slipping on the loose fabric, and involuntary sigh escaping your lips at the feeling of freedom. You had already finished your nightly routine when Tom came in, you were right about to sit down and clean yourself up when he caught you by the waist.
“Nuh uh, don’t clean yourself up yet” he whispered, breath hot on your neck making goosebumps spread wherever his breath touched. “Go lay on the bed and wait for me” he ordered, placing a soft kiss beneath your ear. Spinning you in the direction of the door, and laying a slap on your ass, watching it jiggle as you walked away.
You laid down on the bed, you were stuck on thinking about what was about to happen, having been nearly positive that you already got your punishment for your disobedience. Tom sensed your confusion as soon as he walked into the room, standing at the end of the bed for a moment, watching you as you watched him, his eyes eager as they caught your pussy peeking out from beneath the hem of your shirt.
“I’m gonna make you cum with my tongue” was all he said before he was on you kissing his way down your body, lifting up the oversized shirt that now covered your body, nothing underneath it. The soft cotton bunching up much like your dress had earlier in the evening.
“Look at this cunt, so fucking gorgeous” Tom groaned, looking at how his cum still covered the lips of your pussy. “I love seeing my cum on you” his tongue flicked out and licked some of the arousal that was leaking from your entrance, the mixture of his spunk and your slick delicious on his taste buds.
“Tommy I want you in me” you whimpered, tugging on his hair.
“Nuh uh baby girl, I’m letting you cum on my tongue, you don’t get to be greedy, “ he growled, softly sinking his teeth into your clit. “You can moan, you can touch me, but you will only cum when I tell you too” you nodded your head eagerly, at the point where you would have agreed to anything just to have him touch you properly. He said nothing else, no words, no noise, simply licking over the closed lips of your pussy, enjoying the taste, if he hadn’t drained his cock earlier he knew that he would have been hard, and he was actually happy he wasn’t, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to hold out from fucking you to completion if he was.
“Taste so fucking good, baby” he slipped his tongue between your lips, licking over the folds and vallies that lined the inside of your vulva.
“Tom T-t-Tom you feel so- fuck good” you moaned, threading yoru fingers in his hair as you tried to pull him closer to you trying to smear your cunt across his face, but he fought back, he was gonna make you cum, but in his own time. Finally after multiple minutes of kitten licks and light kisses between your folds he fully delved into your cunt. Licking a heated spitty stripe from entrance to clit. He pulled back and spat on your clit, rubbing his nose against it as his tongue slipped into your cunt, licking the inside of nudging that one spot deep inside of you as his nose bumped into your clit. He continued this action over and over again, the thrust of his tongue increasing the pressure on your clit.
“Tommy, I-I-I’m gonna cum” you whimpered, your legs trying to clamp around his head but his hands held them in place.
“Cum on baby, cum on my face” he spoke into your cunt as he sped up his movements, letting pushing you over the edge, and you fell, your back arching off the sheets as your body tensed, toes curling into the duvet as your breath was pulled from you lips, a silent scream on your mouth. He held you through your orgasm, only tearing away from your pussy when he was sure he had milked you of everything that you had. Licking his lips and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he watched you, your eyes were clenched shut as you tried to catch your breath. Your high, leaving you so blissed out that you didn’t realize Tom had left and come back until a cool wet towel soothed your burning core, a sigh escaping your lips.
Throwing the towel into the hamper he crawled into bed next to you, pulling you into him. His touch still burned your skin, the need to unravel around him still not having been satiated. He seemed to sense your tension, rubbing his hand down your back and breaking the thick silence in the air.
“You’ll get what you want tomorrow morning, love, I promise, but don’t you dare think of getting off while I’m asleep,” he hummed, kissing your temple before turning off the light. You wanted to whine, to complain and be a brat but you knew that would just get you even farther from cumming around Tom’s pretty cock, so you maintained your peaceful silence, eyes fluttering shut just thinking of what you were gonna get the next morning.
@thehumanistsdiary @spydeysense
#tom holland#tom holland imagine#tom holland x plus size reader#tom holland x reader#tomholland#tom holland fluff#tom holland one shot#tom holland au#mob!tom holland x reader#dom!tom holland x reader#dom tom holland#dom!tom
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Right Place, Right Time
wanted to write something with a little more humor in it but there’s still dark shit because phantom troupe
Warnings: mentions of death
“There's trouble, boss.”
Phinks' voice cut through the chatter of the busy casino. Chrollo didn't look up at first, relaying a few more instructions to Shalnark via text. 'Trouble' wasn't unexpected; as much as Chrollo could plan ahead, human nature could be unpredictable and would usually cause a few bumps in the road when it came to their heists.
“What sort of trouble?” Chrollo asked as he pocketed the cellphone.
“A Zoldyck.”
Ah.... That was a bit more trouble than usual.
Chrollo's gaze followed that of Phinks and Shizuku. Looking down at them from a second balcony stood Illumi, his face devoid of emotion as the black void within his eyes took in the group.
The second Chrollo made eye contact with him, Illumi gestured to his left with a sharp jerk of his head before walking off in the same direction.
“Does he want to fight away from the guests?” Shizuku asked.
“Maybe,” said Chrollo. He began to walk in the direction Illumi had gone, signaling for Shizuku and Phinks to follow. The three of them walked up one of the staircases located to the side. Phinks pulled on the collar of his suit every so often, while Shizuku walked slightly slower due to the heels that she wasn't used to wearing. But Chrollo could sense that the two were anticipating a fight (Phinks likely ready to use it as an excuse to get out of the fancy suit he hated so much).
“But it may not come to a fight with him,” Chrollo told them.
“Don't the Zoldycks hate us?” Phinks asked.
“Silva hates me specifically,” Chrollo corrected, “but Illumi can be reasoned with.”
Phinks snorted a bit at that, but didn't say anything else. Shizuku then asked what Silva Zoldyck had done to the troupe, to which Phinks gave a brief summary of the incident that had happened years prior. A very brief summary, but he knew there was no point in getting into details since Shizuku would forget almost immediately; this wasn't even the first time she had asked.
Perhaps he should have expected that one of the Zoldycks would be present – it was the opening night for this particular high-end gambling hall. But with how stingy the owner had been rumored to be, he would have thought that the price of a Zoldyck assassin as a security guard would have been more than she was willing to spend.
If it was Zeno or Silva there would be no chance of ending things amicably: Zeno was dedicated to his work and wouldn't be moved by a bribe or any words that Chrollo could offer. And Chrollo and Silva shared a very mutual hatred of one another, so a fight would have been inevitable in that case.
But Illumi, while also just as dedicated to his family as his father and grandfather, could be convinced to stand down if Chrollo could name a good enough price and ensure that the Zoldyck name wouldn't be tarnished in any way. The Zoldycks successfully completed every job they took on, but they couldn't be held accountable if their client terminated the contract before they could complete it. It had happened once before, in an instance where a man had hired Illumi to assassinate Pakunoda. Illumi agreed to hold off on going through with the hit for a short while in exchange for twice the amount the man had paid him for and to allow the troupe the time needed to get to the client and release him from the contract.
Though it would be nicer to just get to Illumi's client and kill her off, there was no chance Illumi would allow them to do that while still under his contract. And Illumi would be happier if he was able to leave with twice the amount of jenny he had been promised.
Illumi was waiting at the end of a hall that had fewer people in it, pointedly looking at him before entering into what looked to be a darkened room. Chrollo pulled out his phone to text an order for the troupe to wait as he spoke to Phinks and Shizuku.
“You two wait out here,” he ordered.
Phinks looked as though he wanted to question him on that, but he held his tongue, crossing his arms as he gave a sharp nod in acknowledgment. If Shizuku felt that his actions were questionable, she didn't betray that fact to him.
Leaving the two of them behind, Chrollo made his way to the door Illumi had entered and pulled it open.
This room was darker than the rest of the casino, and without the electric lights that brightened the building and the bodies of the customers that increased the temperature with their own body heat, it was much cooler in the room as well.
It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the lack of light, but when they did, he saw that Illumi was leaning against a smaller circular table, toying with one of his needles as he watched Chrollo enter.
“I thought you didn't like the body-guarding jobs,” Chrollo said as the door behind him slowly swung shut.
“I owed my brother for his assistance on my last assignment,” Illumi explained, “so I'm filling in for him.”
Chrollo nodded, though he didn't particularly care all that much. Whatever the reason, the presence of a Zoldyck would hinder things. Best to get straight to the point.
“How much are you being paid for this job?” Chrollo asked.
Illumi's eyebrows raised slightly.
“You think you can pay me off?”
“It worked once before.”
“So it did,” Illumi conceded, “but it would start to look suspicious if I accepted your offer too many times, no? It would be a problem if people thought the Zoldycks could be bought out. Our reputation is everything.”
“Well, you can't help it if your client decides that your services aren't needed and lets you go, now can you?”
“Another inexplicable 'termination' with a job that involved the Phantom Troupe?” Illumi asked, “father was annoyed that I did that last time, though he was more annoyed that I took the job in the first place.”
Illumi sighed.
“But again, doing that too often would look strange, and I will not do anything to harm our business reputation.”
“Very few people knew about the previous hit on Pakunoda,” said Chrollo, “there would be few who would notice a particular pattern, and I think the two of us are both inclined to avoid an unnecessary fight if possible.”
“True. Killing you and the rest of your group would take some time. And it wouldn't be worth the amount that woman is offering. Really, she's low-balling us. I don't know what Milluki was thinking when he took this job. Didn't even make her pay upfront.”
“Then we can come to an agreement?” Chrollo asked.
Illumi closed his eyes in thought, his fingers still twirling around that needle. He was considering it.
Chrollo waited in silence. Trying to push Illumi to do one thing was unproductive and could possibly make him decide to fight after all, though he was certain that Illumi was already willing to take him up on the offer since the assassin hadn't sent his needles flying the second Chrollo walked in. Pulling out his phone, Chrollo checked the time: 8:54 PM. He had planned for this particular operation to begin at 9:15. The owner was part of a group that had begun to throttle the livelihood of Meteor City, and tonight she was the host of a party for that group that was taking place in the upper floors while celebrating the successful opening night of her casino. The main purpose was to send a message: kill the group and anyone else in the building so the rest of the world knew not to interfere with the business of his Meteor City. Whatever valuables they collected would just be bonuses for the troupe to divide amongst themselves.
Though Chrollo rarely went back to the city these days, it was beneficial for him if the city still existed. And though he would never admit it out loud, there was of that sentimental feeling of wanting to protect his old home, as harsh and cruel as it had been for him growing up.
Illumi opened his eyes and looked to Chrollo.
“3 billion and I'll leave.”
“That's quite a lot,” said Chrollo, “much more than I paid last time. Why such a steep increase?”
“So it's worth my while.”
Chrollo mulled it for a bit, checking his phone again: 8:57. He certainly had the funds to pay Illumi's price, but it did feel like he was being somewhat taken advantage of in this case. Still keeping an eye on Illumi, Chrollo couldn't help but notice that the assassin seemed to have something else on his mind that he was considering. Then, like he had come to a decision, he sat up a bit straighter as he addressed Chrollo again.
“There's one more thing,” Illumi said.
“Something more than 3 billion jenny, Illumi?”
“Just some time; give me four minutes before you start.”
Chrollo hummed. Illumi didn't need that much time to vacate a building like this. Was it an attempt to set some kind of trap? No, that was unlikely. It would be far too obvious and Illumi wouldn't go to such lengths unless he was being paid to do so. Still, he couldn't help but be a little curious as to what Illumi would need that time for.
“Why four minutes?”
“Personal reasons.”
Ah. He should have sensed something like that would be the answer.
“A lot can happen in even a single minute, Illumi. And you want four?”
“Four minutes is unreasonable?”
“Not enough to end this deal, but I may want you to lower your price a bit.”
“Are you trying to haggle with me?”
Illumi frowned a little when Chrollo smiled at him.
“Maybe just by 60 million or so,” Chrollo said.
“So you'd rather pay two billion, nine hundred and forty million?” Illumi asked, raising an eyebrow.
“It's still more than you'll get if you keep your current contract, correct?”
Chrollo saw the corners of Illumi's mouth turn upwards ever so slightly, a small smirk on his face as he closed his eyes again and considered the offer.
“That's true. Even taking that out I'd still be much better off.”
Chrollo checked the time and found it to be 9:01 PM. If Illumi came to a decision soon the troupe's operation could still go as planned.
“Very well,” Illumi said after a moment of thought, “transfer me the money first.”
With a nod, Chrollo accessed one of his bank accounts through his phone, bringing up the necessary amount and transferring it to the account number Illumi gave him. Within a few minutes, the transaction was completed. Illumi seemed rather pleased with himself, Chrollo noted.
“Perhaps you should stay in here for a moment,” Chrollo said, “Shalnark is upstairs. I can order him to take control of the owner and have her officially fire you. Then there won't be any issues with your family, correct?”
“That won't be necessary,” Illumi answered.
“Oh?”
“I got fired before you got here.”
“..... Excuse me?”
There was a flat tone to Chrollo's voice that made Illumi chuckle as the latter continued “that woman felt like she was wasting her money, but she was pressured to hire one of the Zoldycks at the behest of her guests. Seems to me like she was looking for an excuse to get out of paying the full fee. Apparently I was 'unprofessional'. But I'm glad I caught sight of you, otherwise this evening would have been more of a loss for me.”
Chrollo said nothing at first. Illumi had been careful with his wording, Chrollo realized, and it hadn't occurred to him to ask if Illumi was still under contract.
The funds weren't that important to Chrollo, but he couldn't help but feel rather miffed. Had he known that the assassin was currently out of a job, there wouldn't have been a reason to pay a higher price than normal; Illumi would have been left between going home empty-handed or with whatever Chrollo would have been willing to give him.
But then again, how could he have anticipated that a Zoldyck would have gotten fired?
Realizing that he had been played, Chrollo checked his phone again: 9:07. At least they'd still be able to start on time.
“Your four minutes start now,” he said.
Nodding, Illumi stood from where he'd been leaning against the table. He made his way through the room, past Chrollo and to the door that lead to the hall where Phinks and Shizuku waited.
“Perhaps you could humor me,” Chrollo said as he walked by, “it shouldn't take you four minutes to exit a place like this. What exactly are those personal reasons?”
Illumi chuckled a bit as he placed his hand on the knob.
“I suppose you can see for yourself if you decide to watch me leave.”
With that, Illumi left, the door swinging shut.
Standing alone in the dark room, Chrollo wasn't sure what to make of Illumi's behavior. He was used to the assassin being more straight-forward. He was secretive, yes, but there was something about the way he had acted just now that seemed a bit more.... Playful.
Illumi and Hisoka had known each other before Chrollo had met the long-haired man, and the two had seemed like they were in frequent contact. Perhaps, Chrollo mused, some of Hisoka's less-than-ideal qualities were rubbing off on Illumi.
Phinks and Shizuku approached him immediately after he also exited the room.
“It looked like he was leaving,” Shizuku said, “were you able to talk him down?”
“Yes. It was more expensive than it needed to be, but he'll be leaving shortly,” Chrollo answered as he nodded at her.
“He required four minutes before we began, so we'll be able to stay on schedule,” he continued as he looked at his phone again. 9:08.
The two spiders nodded (though Phinks seemed somewhat disappointed to not have a chance to fight Illumi) and Chrollo updated the rest of the troupe. The three of them slowly began to walk back to the main hall before coming to a stop at one of the balcony's. Below them the crowd had only managed to have grow larger as more people had entered to try their luck in the new gambling hall. For the majority of the crowd it seemed to be more of a pastime as they looked more well-to-do, but there were a few individuals who already appeared to be reaching a point of desperation, sweating nervously while they looked to the indifferent dealers.
A grand clock at the top of the hall showed the time to be nearing 9:10, and they had yet to see Illumi leave the building.
“Why did he want four minutes?” Shizuku asked.
“He wouldn't say,” Chrollo answered her.
“Hm. I wonder what it was,” Shizuku said.
“It seems he wanted to collect some woman before we got started,” Phinks suddenly said.
“Huh?”
Both Chrollo and Shizuku looked to where Phinks was looking. Within the crowd they saw Illumi walking through, accompanied by you. He held your hand as he lead you through the throng of guests, and you were giggling at something he had said while you intertwined your fingers with his. Illumi smiled back at you as he continued to pull you forward.
It was not a sight Chrollo had anticipated, nor was he expecting to see the darkened marks on your neck when he squinted. Marks that could've been made by Illumi's mouth.
Remembering that Illumi had said he'd been terminated for being unprofessional, and suddenly the reason for his firing became clear.
“That's just a civilian, right?” Phinks asked, “what does he want with her?”
“I guess he doesn't want to leave her here to die,” said Shizuku, “that's sweet.”
Chrollo continued to watch as the two of you made it to the other end of the hall. When you were finally out of the crowd, you went to wrap your arm around the one that had been leading you, smiling up at him as you two continued your way to the entrance. There weren't many who could touch one of the Zoldycks like that and live to tell the tale. Phinks was most likely right in his assessment; you weren't anything special. You probably had no idea who the person was that you were so happily walking off with or how dangerous he was.
Illumi said something and smiled at you before the two of you began walking again, but Chrollo didn't miss the little warning glance the assassin had sent in his direction.
As Shizuku and Phinks talked amongst themselves on what all that was about, Chrollo found himself unsure of what to think of this particular turn of events.
Evidently to Illumi, you were worth at least 60 million jenny.
You had come to this event on behalf of your friend Kiki, who had been invited by her cousin who had wanted to spend a milestone birthday at the casino. Places like this had never done much for you; the odds were always stacked in favor of the house and you didn't want to lose your hard-earned cash by gambling it away. You only came to do a favor for your friend, and yet about an hour into the evening, she had left you to chat up someone at the bar, leaving you with a group of people you only vaguely knew in an even bigger sea of strangers. Most ignored you, but there was the occasional middle-aged man who would eye you up and make you feel uncomfortable enough that you felt like you needed to leave the general area.
And then you ran into him.
The handsome man with long black hair and dark eyes who'd been walking about. He caught your attention like he'd caught the attention of most of the people around him, though they had seemed more content to watch him and gossip about him from afar. Maybe it was because no one else was going for it, maybe it was because you were slightly jealous that Kiki had managed to find an actual date for the night, or maybe you were just tired of the gross older men that kept ogling you and you wanted to be able to enjoy yourself with someone that you were actually in to. Regardless of whatever it was that made you do it, you approached the man and asked if he wanted to get a drink with you.
He hadn't wanted any drinks, but your boldness had impressed him enough that he wanted to talk with you. In private. Leading you away from the crowd and noise, he took you to a staff-only hallway where he introduced himself as Illumi. You introduced yourself to him, and the two of you managed to hit it off, having a lengthy conversation that ended when he kissed you suddenly. It seemed like something that had been spur-of-the-moment for him, and he pulled away from you to ask if you had liked it. Your answer was to pull him back onto your lips.
Your make-out session had culminated in him pushing you against the wall while he sucked hickeys into the skin of your neck.
And then you got caught.
You were expecting that you'd both get kicked out, but Illumi had been asked to accompany some of the casino staff while you were taken back to the main hall. Being that they were more concerned about Illumi, they left you there while you tried to hide the marks Illumi had left behind. You hadn't been sure if you would see him again; you didn't realize that he'd been working for the casino, and you were worried that you had cost him his job.
So it was unexpected when he appeared before you and asked you to leave with him.
But you said 'yes' without any hesitation.
You slid into the backseat of the car that had pulled up, Illumi coming in after you.
“The Palazzo,” Illumi instructed the driver.
Wait....
“Isn't that the really expensive hotel on the riverfront?” you asked Illumi.
“Yes. I've been staying there,” he answered.
You were amazed that he had the cash to be able to stay at a place like that. Then worry hit you.
“I got you fired, didn't I? Are you sure that isn't an issue?”
With that same small smile you had seen several times now since he'd opened up to you, Illumi smiled back at you.
“I got a better payout leaving like I did than if I had stayed. So don't worry, there's no issue.”
That eased your worries a bit, and you settled yourself into the seat as the car began to pull forward. You glanced back at the illuminated casino as you drove off, and another pang of guilt hit you.
“What's wrong?” Illumi asked.
“I left my friend without telling her anything,” you said as you pulled out your phone, “I should text her about where I'm going.”
“Mm. Yes, that would be a good idea.”
Illumi's tone was always rather flat, so you didn't notice that he seemed slightly displeased as you messaged Kiki to let her know you had left. It seemed like she'd found her own date, so hopefully she wouldn't be too mad at you. It wasn't like she'd been left alone.
The instant you hit 'send', you turned your attention back to Illumi.
“Think she'll get it in time? The reception was a little spotty in some places,” you said.
“It was fine, but don't worry about that.”
With that, Illumi pulled you into his lap while you yelped. You wanted to protest, seeing as you two were in a moving vehicle and the driver could tell what the two of you were doing. Illumi held you securely, however, and when you looked to the front of the car, you found that a sheet of tinted glass now separated the front from the back. The driver must have been able to read the mood.
“Don't worry about what's going on back there,” Illumi told you, “from this point on, all I want for you to focus on is me.”
His order made you blush, and you shyly answered with an “okay” before his lips were on you.
The casino and the people inside it were the last things on your mind that night.
#yandere x reader#illumi zoldyck#illumi x reader#yandere#yandere hxh#yandere illumi#chrollo lucilfer#reader insert#yandere hunter x hunter#chrollo gets scammed#hope its not too dumb
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r u mine? (Jake Kiszka x reader)
hey guys...so this was fun to write, thank you to the kind anon who requested it! I currently have some fun (and steamy) Josh stuff in the works right now, but still feel free to send in requests! I might slow down a little with posting since my classes started, but I promise to get to every request! Enjoy my first Jake piece!
Warnings: SMUT(oral f-recieving, fingering, penetrative sex)
Adrenaline pumped through your veins as you headed down the hallway backstage, about to go out and face the crowd of thousands of fans. No you weren't a huge famous musician or anything, just their photographer. Basically the same thing right?
For the past three weeks you had been enjoying life on the road, it had always been your dream to be a concert photographer, and your work had caught the attention of a little band called Greta Van Fleet. Well, not exactly little. Their fan base grew everyday and now they were doing yet another headlining tour that they asked you to document. Over the past few months you had been in contact with the guys and their management, and you guys hit it off instantly, they brought you under their wing as if you were part of the family.
You basically were all one big family, you had gotten extremely close to the boys. Josh, Sam and Danny were like your brothers, and Jake...he was a little different.
Brother would be an odd way to describe him, seeing as you had a bit of a crush on him. Nothing super serious, you just thought he was a cool guy who also happened to be really fucking hot. You thought he might have a little something for you too, he was always asking you how you liked the show, and when he’d catch you editing the photos you took he’d sit himself right next to you and ask if you’d show him what you were working on. He was constantly complimenting your work, but that would mostly be in private, when he’d seek you out if he couldn’t sleep. You surely weren’t complaining, you enjoyed his company. You just wish he would say something, or even better, make a move. You could be taking his actions the wrong way, he does have tons of women who want him all around the country, maybe he does just think of you as a sister. Whatever thoughts you had about Jake you’d just push to the back of your mind, you had a job to do, and your work was more important than getting laid.
You went in front of the barricade and took some photos of the crowd and talked to fans. They liked to ask you questions about the guys and what it was like touring with them. You always tried to make them feel special by saying how thankful the guys were, which wasn’t a lie, to have such amazing fans.
All of a sudden you heard some of the fans start screaming wildly. They were chanting Jake’s name, and you turned your head only to briefly meet his eyes from the side of the stage where he was standing. Within a second he was gone, most likely rushing backstage to avoid any further commotion from the audience.
What was that all about? You thought to yourself. Did he sneak over there to just look at me? Maybe he wanted to talk or something. That can happen later, it was only a few minutes until the show started, so you wanted to snap a few more shots of the crowd before running all over during the show to catch the right angles.
During the show you had a great time, as per usual. You loved being right up front, taking photos of the guys doing what they loved. You went backstage to get some photos from the wings. Jake was about to do his signature move, playing his guitar behind his head, and you were ready to capture the moment. Right as you snapped the photo, Jake turned and winked at you, arms thrown behind his head, somehow managing to play the notes of “Highway Tune” whilst flirting with you.
Butterflies erupted in your stomach, and you felt an intense need for him. Quickly you ran back out to the front of the stage to capture a few more moments before the show was over.
“God fucking dammit, I’m in deep” you muttered to yourself, before heading to the green room to congratulate the guys on the awesome show. You slipped through the crew heading on stage to clean up the equipment, turning a corner and bumping directly into Jake.
“Oh sorry! Great job out there tonight!” you say, trying your best not to blush. What was wrong with you, it was like you were a school girl or something.
“Thanks y/n! Did you get some good shots?”
“No, I made sure to get really shitty photos, especially of you”
“Are you being sarcastic?! Now that is something new!” he teased you.
“I just know how much you enjoy my sense of humor! I like to give back to the fans y’know” you quip back, causing him to break out into a smile.
“Hey the guys and quite a bit of the crew is gonna head out and probably find a bar or something once we’re done cleaning up. You wanna join?”
“Thanks for the offer, but I might just keep it lowkey tonight, I’d prefer to edit the photos tonight so I can explore whatever city we’re going to tomorrow.”
“Totally understandable, well I’ll catch you later!”
“Yeah for sure!” you say as you go off to find the rest of the guys.
After about a half hour of chatting and checking in with the rest of your tour mates, you decided it was time to change into your pajamas and spend the rest of the night staring at your computer screen, trying to edit as many photos as you can before inevitably passing out.
Getting onto the bus you shared with some other crew members, you kicked your Vans off before checking to see if anyone else was around. Seems like they all were opting to go out after the show, which meant you got the whole place to yourself. You traded out your concert outfit for a pair of shorts and a hoodie, getting prepared for your lengthy editing session.
You made yourself at home on the couch towards the front of the bus, turning on your speaker and playing music as loud as you wanted, getting straight to work.
It had felt like only a minute when you heard a knock on the door, but after checking your clock you realized an hour had already gone by. You peeked out the window only to see Jake’s figure standing there.
“Jacob! What’s up? I thought you were going to the bar?” you said as you opened the door to let him in.
“That show wore me out”
“Yeah you did amazing, I mean like you usually do” you say, stumbling over your words and internally punching yourself. God you were not smooth at all.
“Seems like we are some of the very few who decided to stay back, I was getting lonely in that tour bus.”
“Well you’re always welcome here, I was just doing some editing.”
“Wow you’re a pretty big nerd aren’t you? You know you should take a break every once and a while, I feel like you’re constantly working.”
“Well it’s not that hard when you love your job” you tell him.
“I guess that's true, can I see what you’re working on?”
“Yeah of course” you say while making your way back to the couch, Jake plopping down next to you.
“Damn that’s fucking awesome” he remarks, looking at the image on your screen. It’s the one of him playing the guitar behind his head, and winking right at you.
“I know! Thanks for being such a good model” you tell him with a small laugh.
“The guys and management are really impressed with your work. We’ve already been talking about having you come on the European leg of the tour with us.”
“Are you for real?!” you ask in awe, giddy with excitement. You absolutely loved this job and the people, and the thought that you could travel the world to do it was a dream come true.
“Yeah, don’t tell anyone though, I don’t want to get my ass beat for it.”
“Oh my god Jake I could literally kiss you!” you exclaimed, before you had even realized what you said.
You tried your best to play it off before your thoughts were interrupted by Jake’s voice.
“I wish you would”
“Huh” you stop for a second before turning to face him.
“Listen y/n, I think you’re really cool, and you also happen to be really hot. Sorry, maybe I was interpreting things wrong. I just thought if you felt the same it might be fun. It doesn’t have to be anything serious, I just get lonely on the road and -”
Before he could say another word, you took it upon yourself to answer his question, leaning in to capture his lips in a soft kiss. You pull back and look him in the eyes, closing your laptop and setting it on the counter.
“God I’m glad you finally said something, I think everyone was starting to sense the sexual tension” you grin at him.
“Well all I could think about on stage was fucking your brains out, so sorry if I’m not too great at hiding it” he says before grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you in for another kiss, to which you open your mouth to let his tongue slip in.
You move yourself so that you’re straddling his lap, your lips moving perfectly in rhythm as Arctic Monkeys played softly in the background.
“Wow it seems like you were almost expecting this to happen” he teases you.
“Shut up and fuck me Kiszka” you say before he flips you so you’re now beneath him.
His fingers find their way under your shirt, reaching up to cup your breast. He pinched your nipple before quickly tugging at the hem of your sweatshirt.
“Can this come off?” he breathed into your mouth.
“Yes please” you said before he pulled it off you, exposing your bare chest to him. You felt very self conscious, it had been a little while since you had gotten naked with anyone.
“Hey don’t be shy, you’re gorgeous” he said before connecting your lips once more before he stood up to remove his shirt and shorts, leaving him in a pair of boxer briefs. You tried your best to not look at his growing bulge, but it was hard to resist.
Suddenly he was kneeling on the ground, body in between your spread legs.
“Jake you really don’t have to”
“Oh trust me, I want to, '' he says before running his fingers up and down over your clothed core, moving his fingers to the waistband of your shorts, pulling your panties down with them.
“God you’re so fucking sexy” he mutters before expertly pressing the pad of his thumb onto your clit, his other hand pushing on your thigh to keep your legs spread.
“Fuck, Jake, I need more” you groan, your arousal now dripping between your folds.
“Don’t worry baby girl, I’ve got you”
Those words alone probably could have made you cum, but then Jake entered a finger into you, causing your hands to tangle in his long hair, slightly pulling.
“Goddamn babe you’re tight” he said, looking at you in awe before adding another finger and leaning down to toy your clit with the tip of his tongue. His fingers were pumping in and out of you at a steady rhythm, and every so often he’d curl them to perfectly hit your g-spot.
“Jake you need to stop or else I’m gonna cum” you say as you pull his head back, looking him in the eyes.
“That’s okay” he reassures you.
“No, when I cum I want it to be around you” you say.
“Fucking hell y/n” he groans out in a raspy voice.
You get up and kiss him before pushing him down on the couch, his erection straining against the fabric of his boxers. You tug at the waistband, and he lifts his hips up to assist you. You took a moment to admire his length before wrapping your hand around it. He was a couple inches above average, with a nice girth to him. His head tipped back in bliss as you continued to give him a few more strokes before positioning yourself above him, running his tip back and forth across your slit. Slowly, you sank yourself down onto him, taking as much of him in as you could.
“Fuck fuck fuck Jake, you’re really fucking big” you breath out, only able to fit about half of him in you at this angle.
“Just do what you can baby” he says before softly pressing a kiss on your forehead, telling you that it was okay.
You started moving yourself up and down on him as best you could, starting to adjust more to his size. The stretch burned but slowly started turning more pleasurable.
After a few minutes your legs were starting to hurt and his length slipped out of you.
“Will you fuck me from behind?” you blurt out, sweat running between the valley of your breasts.
“I’d be honored” Jake responds, offering a smile before getting up.
He moves you so that your hands are on the back of the couch, holding you steady and your knees rest on the edge of the sofa, sticking your ass out towards Jake. You can hear him move behind you, hands finding their way to your ass, before you feel him run his tip up and down your slit once again.
“Ready?” he asks.
You nod in response and instantly feel him push his way into you, letting you adjust for a second before pushing the rest of his length in you.
“Oh my fucking god Jake” you say as you bury your head in the couch cushions, his dick hitting a spot in you that you didn’t even know was there.
“Oh god you’re doing so good baby girl, taking all of my cock.” he says as he begins to pump in and out of you, starting off slow but gradually picking up the pace.
It feels amazing, better than you had imagined. You wanted him to stay in you forever, make you see stars all the time. Within a minute you were contracting around him, nearing your edge.
“Jake I’m almost there, please faster”
“Me too baby, me too” he says as he starts thrusting even faster than before, wrapping his arm around you to toy with your clit.
All it takes is a few more pumps and you can feel him explode inside you, groaning your name loudly and leaning over your back, but still circling your clit with his fingers. It’s enough to bring you to your peak, walls contracting around him, burying your head in your arms. Once you’ve both come down you stay in that position for a minute, before he pulls out of you and collapses on the couch, pulling you into his chest.
“That was way better than I imagined” he breathes out, hand stroking your hair.
“Oh so you’ve thought about this before? That's embarrassing” you say in a sarcastic tone.
“Hey I’m sure you aren’t so innocent yourself” he says smiling down at you.
“We should probably get dressed, I’m sure your brothers and the other goons will be stumbling in anytime now.” you tell him as you get up and search for your clothes.
“You’re probably right. Hey, let's do this again sometime” he says, cheeks going red.
“Hmm...I’ll see if I can fit you into my schedule” you respond, giving him a quick wink.
These next few months surely were going to be an adventure, and you didn’t want to miss a second.
#jake kiszka#jake kiszka imagine#jake kiszka fanfic#jake kiszka smut#josh kiszka#josh kiszka imagine#josh kiszka smut#josh kiszka fan fic#sam kiszka#sam kiszka smut#sam kiszka imagine#sam kiszka fanfic#Greta Van Fleet#gvf#greta van fleet imagine#greta van fleet fan fiction#greta van fic
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out or in
this takes place in my ‘poly frontier’ universe
pairing: Will “Ironhead” Miller, Santiago “Pope” Garcia, Francisco “Catfish” Morales, Ben “Benny” Miller and a female reader
wordcount: 2.5k
warnings: all fics in this series are 18+, poly relationship domestic, romantic, and sexual intimacy. strong language, both implications of sex and brief explicit sexual content, mostly fluff
summary: a collection of moments about always choosing the ones we love
>>
It’s a romantic little outing – a walk to the park, flowers tucked behind ears, a gazebo by the pond. Santiago looks good with flowers in his curls, and they stick well. He’s got that look in his eyes, the one that says he thinks of the two of you hung the stars, and his broad shoulders look void of weight in the evening sun.
Will can’t keep his hands off of you, which is strange, but not unwelcome. He keeps running his hand through your hair or pulling you into sudden hugs, and it makes Santi smile.
The three of you are waiting for Frankie and Ben to come, settling into the white benches and enjoying the dappled lighting that sways with the vines overhead. Your Ironhead practically pulls you into his lap as your other lover goes in search of ducklings. Watching him, Will kisses your temple, your cheek, the side of your neck.
You close your eyes, just for a moment. It’s mandatory, really, because these moments are few and far between. Soft noises from the nature around you, smells of flowers and the musk of your lover, and most of all, his open affection. When was the last time his confidence overrode his calculating brain?
When you open them again, a woman is walking by, chattering on her phone, and her heels slow when she catches sight of Santi.
The pillars of the gazebo shroud you from her, and Will holds you tight as you watch her hang up, a twitch in her hips. You miss her greeting, but not the way Santi turns towards her, his face polite and neutral.
“I’m just here with them,” he waves and points, and you see an incorrect realization on her face as she glances shrewdly. The two of you are wrapped up in each other, his hands wandering even still – she thinks she knows.
“So you’re the third wheel?” the woman all but purrs, eyes fluttering in a way that makes you roll your own. So fixed is she on the warm tone of his skin and the stubble across his jaw, that she misses both the darkness of his eyes, and approaching footsteps.
“Not at all,” his words are simple and you grin.
“Like hell you aren’t,” Benny says, slipping an arm around his Pope. They came up less than quietly, watching without your patient interest. Will huff’s a laugh, almost proud at the kiss and raised eyebrow his brother gives the woman, who’s stepping back, suddenly uncertain.
She turns to Frankie, mistakes his soft edges for vulnerability, and changes targets. Hes handsome as a warm fall walk, and she drinks him in. All shy backtracking and twirls of hair, she reaches for his arm, playing all the right cards for sympathy.
But his eyes, deep and brown are unwavering as he shifts away. You see his mouth move – a quiet nope, with a p that pops, and the both you and Ironhead shake with silent laughter.
No one explains as she sputters and spins, trying helplessly to say have a good day, and as she near runs away and you feel a little guilty.
Mostly, though, you feel lucky as you see your eager boys making their way over and loved as they’re already reaching for you.
“That was fun,” Will pulls Frankie close to replace your warmth. Arms around Santi's neck you laugh again, feeling matching rumbles at your front and back.
“We should go out more often,” Benny says, resting his chin atop your head. You can hear the mirth in his voice, but of all of them, he thrives in awkwardness the best.
“Great idea, Ben.” Frankie doesn’t even have to roll his eyes.
“It’s fun confusing people,” the blonde defends, pulling back to flap a hand. Of course he thinks so, and of course Catfish disagrees.
“As long as the people who aren’t confused are us,” Will catches Santi's eye, and you feel him rumble again, squeezing you.
“I agree.”
-
Will walks in to see you completely on top of Frankie, sleeping against his chest. It’s a welcome sight, after a long, long week, and his layers shed as Frankie beams at him. The smile is void of gloating or even teasing, filled only with a hard earned joy. He loves the moments you crash into him, drawing out the weight on his mind and replacing it with you.
“That seems a little selfish,” his watcher teases, his deep, dry voice making you stir a little.
Frankie pulls an understanding face and shifts, letting you slide between him and the back of the couch, opening up for the other man. Your eye peaks open long enough to see Will’s smile, before you feel him, warm and close.
He’s taller, but it’s a practiced fit, and the couch was bought specifically for all of their width and height.
The man beneath you let’s out a groaning breath, like the weight of one of his loves hadn’t been quite enough. Silence fills the air, thick and warm as cocoa on a chilly evening, the three of you taking slow, indulgent sips. Hands rub shoulders and slide over unwinding muscles before they still, thankful for the heartbeats just beneath the surface.
And then the moment slides away, as Frankie remembers a story from work – his excitement is contagious. His deep eyes are bright, the lilt of his voice exaggerated by the animation that fills him head to toe, and you climb over them to find a glass of water. You'd already heard the story, and you need to wake up for the evening.
Santi’s in the kitchen, shrugging off his jacket, and hes pulling you by the hip into his arms. His skin is cool from their air outside, and he seeks your warmth with playful pleading, rubbing his nose along your cheek, your neck, and blowing puffs into your hair. The squeaks you make only spur him, happy kisses following the pre-made path, and he laughs, really laughs, for no real reason.
“Come,” he says, after finding your lips once more, “it’s almost time.” And you wake fully, checking the clock. He’s right, and both of you rush back to the others.
Ben’s fight is on the screen, and your boys are sitting, telling you for the thousandth time how rude it is that they cut off spectators.
“I know, I know,” you shush Will with your mouth, a chaste, chiding kiss, and he softens, pulling you back down. The sleepy satisfaction is long gone, dissipated by his talk with Frankie, and their inevitable excitement as they traded bits of wisdom. Now, it’s time to watch his brother, and to feel the bones in your hand creak as Frankie winces at every punch.
The fight is a short one, and you’re almost glad you didn’t drive an hour for it – your sweet Benny hardly gives the other guy a chance. He blows a kiss at the camera, and Santi says, “Mine,” before sticking his tongue out.
“How do you know?” Frankie protests, reaching over to smack him.
“Hush, he’ll call in just a minute,” you scold, snipping a budding argument, and rolling your eyes. “You can ask him then, if you want.”
You were right – and he called you, probably well aware of the bickering he caused. Speakerphone is mandatory, as deep voices shout their approval.
“The kiss was for all of you,” he says. “Minus Will.” He rolls his eyes, as Frankie makes a triumphant noise.
Over the responsive banter you change the topic.
“How soon will you be home?”
“Why baby, the whole crew there, and you still miss me?” Tonight’s win had gone straight to his head.
Will appears behind you, rumbling, his hand sliding up you shirt in a single, fluid motion.
“Watch yourself,” he said, loud enough for the phone to catch it. “I’d say we’re doing just-"
“- Fine,” the others catch his drift, lowered eyelids and knowing smirks making their way around. Just as fluid, Frankie pulls at you, settling your core over his thigh, his dark eyes asking for permission. Denying him is unfathomable – their touches already perfectly placed and hot.
The gasp leaves your lips before you even think to stop it.
“Fuck,” Benny’s voice is lower, even through the phone. “Don’t you dare!” The command falls flat, his damage done. Bra shoved away, Will rolls a nipple between his fingers as Santi’s hand palms you through the fabric as best he can, always eager to join the torture.
“Hurry up then,” he adds, watching you grind and melt beneath them, knowing the other man is already regretting his words.
“No fair!” you hear the slam of his locker and grin, already too far gone to stop their antics.
Frankie coaxes you off his thigh, hands busy as he began to rid your of your clothes. You’re slick with want, holding whatever you can brace yourself against, as they lovingly remind him what he’s missing.
“Would you rather we let you listen, hot shot?” it’s both a taunt and an offer, and you see wide eyes and feel eager twitches.
There was a moment of silence, before Benny’s curse cracks into the air, needy and nearly breathless.
And you’re suddenly glad you got a nap in earlier. If the last five minutes are any indication, it’s going to be a long night.
-
“No, but thanks for checking again,” you say, trying not to sound sarcastic. Benny is using his best puppy eyes, even pulling down the thick scarf his mama gave him to pout at you.
“But I made us the coolest fort, you said so yourself!”
“My love, it’s cold.” You respond, kissing his surprisingly warm cheek. “The others have already tried.”
You wave at Will over his shoulder as he packs yet another snowball for their war. A hit to the back of the head is a fitting distraction, and Ben kisses you quickly before he runs off to his corner of the yard.
And as much fun as it could be to watch, you close the door to the freezing air, knowing if you don’t, the next one will be coming for you.
You end up by the window, catching glimpses through the thick white frost, as you Google new winter recipes. And you’re thoroughly wrapped up in a distraction when a hand slips into yours
“Oh, hello,” you grab at it, trying to warm the fingers between your palms. “Too cold for Catfish?”
He nods, sighing as you try to thaw him.
“Come,” you say, leading him to the kitchen. He’s like a bear, lumbering after you, thickened with winter layers, but with meek obedience and eyes filled with adoration.
“Cocoa, love?” it’s hardly a question.
“Please, Frankie?” He kisses you in confirmation, seemingly growing even lager as he glows with pride. No recipe you’ve ever found gets the spices as perfect as he can, and it’s his joy to brew if for you all.
Before, though he turns the kettle on, heating water for the bottles, knowing any moment what will happen. And he’s never wrong. The door opens with a gust of chill wind, making snowflakes cling to their winter beards.
Just as the hot water bags are filled, and the rest finds its way into a footpan, Santi trudges through the door, huffing with laughter but with spikes of pain shooting from his knees. You help him settle into cushions, resting his joints, as Will and Benny tumble in, shedding soaking layers and telling you the final battle.
Passing out steaming mugs you kiss their cheeks and they know the truth – adventures should be taken and fun should be had, but nowhere was better than right here with you.
-
It happens rarely: waking up perfectly encompassed by your loves. Someone’s elbow was always poking or beard would tickle, and the first to wake would inevitably wiggle and jostle limbs.
But when it does, it’s bliss.
Your tucked into Will’s side – his beard is soft and smells like books and clean linens and the way it feels when rain pours down after weeks of drought.
Frankie is behind him, pressing close, and Santi is near a second skin, he’s sandwiched you so tightly. You can the shape of Benny beyond Frankie's fluff of hair, and for once, you don’t feel the need to move. Deep breathes a contented mid-dream murmurs push away the reminder that one of you must leave – a least for long moments.
But then you notice the pace of the heart beneath your hand, and prepare yourself for the rub of his jaw along his temple. Your Will would never risk the movement of kissing you before he knew you were awake.
“Good morning,” your voice is barely audible, just for him.
“I love you,” his response is just as quiet, but equally filled with love.
Neither of you says anything else, just shifting ever-so-slightly to kiss each other, unable to resist. Then you settle again, cherishing the squeezes and pacified rumbles, and dreaming of drifting off again.
You know he won’t - can’t, with a stupid Saturday meeting on it’s way, but you wish he would. All of you hate when he’s robbed like this, hate that he has to count down the minutes and then untangle himself and climb away. Feeling his heart race pick up again, you know he’s anxious. It goes against his nature to disturb, to break a perfect moment.
“Stop thinking so loud.” Benny groans, quiet, but not quite so in-control. “Here.”
He flops, pawing the end table before finding Will’s phone and tossing it to him, before settling forward against Frankie again. The whole time his eyes barely opened more than a hair, awake exclusively for the greater good.
A small, conflicted noise grumbles in Will’s throat, but then, to your amazement, he frees a hand and begins to draft an excuse.
“Tell them it could be an email,” Santi’s voice is thick with sleep.
“Because it could be,” Frankie adds, reaching for the phone. His eyes are puffy, wincing at the brightness, but if Will doesn’t call off the meeting, someone has to. Huffing, the man beneath you snatches it back, making incomprehensible comments about how he’s the only one who knows what to say.
You shift to kiss him again, shocked in spite of yourself. All this time, he’s never called in sick, no matter how deeply he’s been tempted. But more proud than anything.
It’s a perfect morning – too good to spoil. He sends it and tosses his phone, satisfied sighs and sleepy high fives making him chuckle. And you pull the blankets back in place, tucking in the joy for a few hours more.
>>
taglist:
@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @beautyagegoodnesssize @princess76179 @mrsbentallmadge @horton-hears-a-honk @saradika @zinzinina
#triple frontier poly fic#poly frontier#will miller x reader#santiago garcia x reader#frankie morales x reader#benny miller x reader#smut#barely
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Right Where You Left Me
Summary: During a rough patch in their relationship, reader gives Spencer one last chance to make things right
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Category: Angst w/ a (somewhat) hopeful ending
Content Warning(s): Breakup, swearing, mention of food, mention of alcohol, allusion to depression (Please let me know if I missed anything)
Word Count: 1.3k
A/N: Hi, everyone! This is my first fic and I hope you enjoy it! I wrote this in about an hour after listening to “Right Where You Left Me” by Taylor Swift, so it’s not the best and a bit rushed but I’m excited about it!
I sit in the dimly lit restaurant, patiently waiting for him to show up and prove me wrong. Prove to me he still wanted me as much as he did when we first met. Ten minutes turned into twenty minutes and before I knew it, an hour had passed. I was still alone looking at the empty seat across from me, imagining he was sitting there looking at me with that doe-eyed look and a smile upon his face. I found myself slightly smiling at the fantasy before I was interrupted by the waitress.
“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but if you don’t order something we’re going to have to ask you to leave. Are you still waiting on someone?” I gave a small chuckle before replying “Uh- no, I’m sorry. I’ll take the check to pay for the wine.” “Don’t worry, it’s taken care of.” She gives me a pity smile.
He left me. He actually left me. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, though, things had been different for almost a year. We were less intimate, he was sleeping on the couch or at the office, and whenever he looked at me he no longer had that sparkle in his eye that always reassured that he would love me forever.I never would have guessed our forever would be this short lived. I shamefully walk out of the restaurant and I’m so embarrassed that all these people witnessed me getting stood up by a man I never thought could make me feel this way.
How am I supposed to go back to our shared home? Would he be there? Maybe he got off work too late and is waiting to surprise me with flowers? My anticipation was too much to handle and I press the gas pedal with a bit more pressure, hanging on to the last string of hope I had. Unfortunately, my instincts were a bit off as I walk into what was once our happy home that was always filled with love and laughter that I never thought would end and now there was just an empty feeling.
It’s colder than usual and without him, it already no longer felt like home. Spencer is, was, my home. I need to be in his arms. He was the only one that could put me together and he’s the one that is fucking breaking me. I don’t remember who I was before him besides a girl who had never been loved the way he loved me. The love you read about wasn’t something I believed in until I met him and now I’m right back to square one.
I walk back to our bedroom to change into something more comfortable, but I stop when I see a piece of paper folded on the bed. I feel the tears forming before I even open it up. This was the last thing he touched and the last piece I have of him. It feels so delicate in my hand like it’s made of glass. I dread reading this. Our story is ending with a single piece of paper that lies in my hand. I take a deep breath and work up the courage to read the inevitable.
Y/N, I’m a coward. I couldn’t even face you tonight to give you the proper closure you deserve. You deserve someone who is able to give you that, and so much more. While I was packing, I noticed your red dress was off the hanger and I’m assuming that’s what you wore tonight. That was always my favorite dress on you. I’m so sorry. So fucking sorry. I need you to know that I never have stopped, and probably never will stop, loving you. Sadly, love isn’t enough sometimes and I wish it really fucking was. Don’t think for a single second any of this is your fault. I could go on and on about how you deserve more than me, but I know you and you would fight me on that statement until you were blue in the face. I could write forever, but I should get going. I left you that cardigan of mine you like so much, the one I wrapped around you our first date. I don’t expect your forgiveness, but please never forget me. -Yours, Spencer.
-------------------------------------------------
I still think about it everyday. I think about him everyday. Five years later it still hasn’t escaped my mind. But, on the bright side, I only think about it for about half of the day instead of letting it consume my entirety. I felt pathetic. Everyone in my life was married, having kids, or getting promoted and here I was still holding onto this false dream that he would come back to me. I pretended that I moved on. I even lied about going on dates. What was the point? I already had the greatest love I could ask for. I would rather be alone right now than try to recreate what I had with Spencer with some stranger.
I distract myself with the music on the radio, considering thinking of Spencer while driving was about as dangerous as driving while intoxicated. Moments later, I’m pulling into the grocery store. Maybe I’ll meet someone new here. The love of my life could be right under my nose, but I wouldn’t even know because I’m stuck in a delusion.
I stroll the the cereal isle and laugh quietly at myself, realizing that the most exciting thing this week was trying a new flavor of cheerios. “This works” I whisper to myself as I throw the box in my cart and make my way down the isle.
“Y/N?” I stop in my tracks. I know that voice. It’s the voice that never leaves my thoughts. I can’t turn around. Is he actually here? He can’t be. What are the odds of this happening? I bet he would actually know the statistics on that. I put on a fake smile and turn around. “Spencer! It’s been what? Five years? How are you?” I think I might be overdoing the friendliness. “Yeah five years, two months, and eight days.” He nervously laughs. “Still have that big brain, I see. And who’s this?” I was so distracted by his presence I didn’t even notice the literal child sitting in the shopping cart.
“This is my son, Oliver, like the Charlemagne Knight from the twelfth century poem, Chanson de Roland. He’s turning two next month.” He smiles at his son in awe. “It’s my weekend with him. My ex and I are trying the whole shared parenting thing. It’s hard to be away from him” He continues. “I’m sorry to hear about your separation. I hope the note you left her was different from mine” I cringe as the words leave my mouth. “Sorry. Bad joke.” I add, causing us to laugh through the tension. “Ouch. I -uh- guess I deserve that” He looks down and shakes his head. “I should get going. It was nice to see you, Spence. I’m glad you’ve found happiness.”
“Maybe we could grab coffee and truly catch up.I still have your number, unless you’ve changed it.” I shake my head in response to his last statement. “Um, yeah, that would be nice. Just don’t ask for your cardigan back” I joke and immediately regret letting him know I’ve held onto it all these years. “Of course not. You always looked better in my clothes than I did.” “Goodbye, Spencer.” It’s the last thing I say. I turn around and try my hardest to keep my composure.
“Y/N, wait.” I turn back and meet his eyes once again. I can’t tell if I’m imagining it or if the sparkle in his eyes is back. “What about you? Are you happy?” There is a sincerity in his voice. “Yeah. I am.” I lie, hoping it was convincing enough for him to not question it and we went our separate ways after sharing a final smile.
My mind is having a thousand thoughts a minute. Spencer had a baby. Not only did Spencer have baby, he had another relationship. I didn’t expect him to wait around like I was, but I really didn’t expect to get hit with all this at once. All the things I wanted, needed, with him had already happened with someone else. He had moved on with his life and I was still right where he left me.
#spencer reid#spencer x reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid angst#criminal minds#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x you
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When Evil Doesn't Sleep
summary: Spencer has been gone far too long on a case and when he finally returns home, reader shows him just how much she missed him.
word count: 3.4k
warnings: smut, implied dom/sub undertones, pet names
Pairing: Spencer Reid/Female Reader
A/N: My first fic!!! I hope you all enjoy! <3
“Y/n I’m really sorry but it looks like the case is going to take a lot longer than we thought. We had a recent development and the profile is now pointing to a partnership so now we’re hunting down two unsubs”. You sighed as Spencer rattled off his apologies through the phone before putting him out of his misery “Spencer honey, you don’t have to apologize. Quit worrying about me and focus on catching the bad guys.”
To say you missed Spencer would be the understatement of the century. He had been in Utah for six days already and now with a pair of psychos your odds of finding him in your bed by the end of the week were growing increasingly slim. It didn’t help that you had been swamped prepping for an extra class you’d agreed to take on at Georgetown where you worked as a Criminal Psychology professor. Between both of your hectic work schedules you hadn’t had a real weekend to yourselves in a few months, and while you knew when you first started dating Spencer that it was an inevitable of his job, it had never been this crazy before. They say evil never sleeps but lately it hasn't even taken a catnap.
“I love you Y/N. I promise I’ll come home to you soon and take you out on a real date. I’m sorry darling, I have to go. I’ll text you when I get to the hotel tonight and if you’re still up we can talk for a bit okay?”. “Alright Spence, I love you too. Stay safe okay?”. “I promise, goodbye love.”
Your farewell barely made it past your lips when the dial tone cut you off and once again your boyfriend of three years vanished from your side of the country. You let out an exasperated sigh before reminding yourself that there were other people who needed his help and that you could wait for his attention - at least until that night. Continuing the trek up the stairs of your and spencer’s shared apartment, you managed to haphazardly balance your grocery bags in one hand while unlocking the door and disabling the security alarm, internally cringing at the high shriek that rattled through your brain.
Walking through the living room, you sat the bags on your kitchen counter and began reorganizing the small fridge space to fit all the perishables you had brought home, absentmindedly hoping they wouldn't spoil now that it would be just you for several more days. Moving to the cupboard you replaced the few grab and go snack boxes you had made up to try and encourage Spencer to eat more throughout the day and refilled the paper plate stash that quickly became a requirement after you realized neither one of you could tolerate doing dishes every night. You ripped open the cardboard packaging of yet another microwave dinner and set the timer before leaving to change into more comfortable attire.
Opening the door of your shared bedroom, the smell of vanilla wax melts and dryer sheets hit you like a brick and immediately sent a pang of loneliness through your chest. Spencer was usually around by the time the chores needed done, and you rarely had to do them yourself. Unfortunately, the laundry was piling up and you needed something to distract you so you spent the day running errands and cleaning the apartment more thoroughly than necessary. You walked over to the stack of black dresser drawers and pulled out the first pair of pajama pants you touched, Spencer’s old caltech sweats that now fit you far better than him considering he had received them when he was 14. They looked more like capris on him now and it was embarrassingly difficult to convince him to buy a new pair that fit him properly. You slipped on a tank top and pulled your hair back before making your way lazily to the bathroom to take off the remnants of your simple makeup.
After scrubbing your face clean and pulling your dinner out, you moved to ready the couch for yet another night of binge watching cheesy 90s movies. You selected Clueless and watched the vibrant colors pop across the screen while you dived into your meal, making a poor attempt to ignore the slight freezer burnt taste that lingered after every bite. You finished your dinner and set the bowl aside before covering yourself with a blanket and allowing yourself to sink into the cushions, desperately awaiting Spencer's text.
You were jolted out of your doze by the loud buzzing of your phone against the wooden coffee table. Clumsily you reached for it and managed to swipe the answer pad before it sent your genius to voicemail. “Hello?” you managed before a yawn ripped its way through you suddenly. “Hey Y/N, I’m sorry it’s so late. I didn't mean to wake you, I figured you’d still be up. You should go back to bed love.” For the first time, you noticed the neon green numbers on the microwave. 12:30. You stifled another yawn and shook your head in an effort to wake yourself further “No way, I just dozed off while watching a movie. I was waiting to talk to you. Besides, I’m up now anyways so you might as well stay on with me for a bit. Did you get any further today?” “Well, JJ had the idea that the partners were originally a typical dominant/submissive partnership but that something in the dynamic must have changed because the MO began to deteriorate. We think the partners must have split up now, because we’re finding similar pieces of the previous MO at separate crime scenes.”.
You processed the information he fed you slowly due to your semiconscious state but eventually you put your words in order well enough to respond. “That should be helpful though yeah? I mean, they’re used to working in a partnership so being suddenly separated from your other half so to speak would throw you off track quite a bit right?”. You could practically hear him smiling through the phone as you drew the conclusions the team had come to only a few hours prior. “Yes. We’re hoping to be able to draw them out and trap them. Play them against each other.”.”Does that mean I can stop sleeping on the couch soon?”. You heard him let out a dejected sigh - you knew he hated that you would force yourself onto the cramped couch when you had a king sized bed a few hundred feet away but he understood.
When he had come home in the early hours of the morning after an abrupt end to a case a few weeks after you had moved into his place, he had caught you curled up on the sofa with a throw pillow stuffed under your head. When he questioned you about it the next morning, you simply answered that the bed felt too big without him and that you couldn’t stand the empty feeling. “Sooner than later I hope my love. Y/N I really wish you wouldn’t do that to yourself. It’s horrible for your body. It can put you at a much higher risk for chronic back and neck pain as well as-”. “Spence. I’m not a giant like you are. I fit on the couch much better than you do, and I barely notice the difference.”. You both cringed, hearing the lie clear in your voice. Still, Spencer must have felt bad because he humored you. “If you're sure. What did you do today my love?”. You smiled sadly hearing in his voice just how desperate he was to escape from his reality and come home to you.
”Well, I straightened the house. In fact, it’s so clean i think we could use it as a sterilization room.”. He let out a soft chuckle and you could hear him begin to relax as you recounted the rest of your day, excluding the part about the microwave dinner. Spencer loved to tell you how many of the ingredients were one step away from processed garbage and you decided to opt out of the lecture for the evening. He had more than enough to worry about without having to focus on your diet while he was away. After a half hour of light conversation, a loud yawn betrayed you as you were excitedly discussing the cute puppy you had met on the way to the market. Spencer immediately requested that you hang up and get some more sleep but you refused. After a few minutes of bickering, you relented on the condition that he would read to you until you had fallen asleep. You curled up under the fluffy blanket as Spencer’s even voice recited the collection of Grimm’s fairy tales quickly lured you to sleep.
You woke up the next morning as sunlight peered through the curtains, stretching your body out to ease the aches from the previous night. You smiled softly as your screen lit up with a text from Spencer wishing you a good morning and an update that they had a solid plan for boxing in the two unsubs that afternoon. “If all goes to plan I should be carrying you to our bed before midnight tonight.”. Your smile widened and you sent back “Can’t wait to truly see you - and love you- tonight. I’ll be waiting.” You plugged your phone into the charger and straightened up from the night before when your phone went off again. The one word message glared at you from the screen and you let out an involuntary giggle. “Tease.”. You hoped it gave him something to look forward to until he was back in your arms. You sent back a simple “XO” before deciding to reread one of your favorite books for a few hours to kill some time. You made yourself a sandwich for lunch and had a few glasses of water as the clock slowly ticked by. You were over halfway through the lengthy novel when you received another message.
“We apprehended both unsubs. Hotch is postponing the paperwork until Monday so we can go straight home. I’ll see you in a few hours baby.”. You jumped slightly in celebration before finishing your current chapter, marking your place, and all but skipping to the shower to shave and exfoliate your skin. You knew Spencer would still be heavily worked up once he arrived home and luckily, his favorite release included intertwining your bodies as close as possible and loving you sweetly and slowly.
You took your time in the shower careful not to nick yourself with your razor. You scrubbed your scalp with your nails, letting your stress and soreness melt away under the steam. You waited until the water ran cold before turning the knob and stepping out, wrapping yourself in a fluffy towel and blow drying your hair until it layed perfectly even. You applied lotion all over your skin and stepped out of the bathroom to slip on your black silk robe, knowing it wouldn’t be worth it to dress up further. Spencer would be desperate to feel your skin against his and any fabric in his way didn't stand much of a chance.
You made an actual meal for dinner, a pasta dish with chicken that could be easily reheated for Spencer when he grew hungry later in the night. You helped yourself to a serving and after quickly cleaning up the kitchen and storing the leftovers, you retreated to the bedroom to wait for his return.
You were half paying attention to the feed you opted to scroll through on your phone when you heard the door creak open and bags drop to the floor. You set your phone on the bedside table and ran towards the foyer, all but throwing yourself at the exhausted man in front of you. He took a step back from the impact but still enveloped you in his arms and pulled you impossibly tight into his chest. “Hi baby.” you whispered against the scruffy skin of his jawline, peppering kisses up towards his earlobe. He let out a long sigh of relief and picked you up off the hardwood floor, wrapping your thighs around his waist resulting in a high pitched giggle to erupt from your throat. He kissed you then, slowly at first but quickly building more passionate. Your lungs were burning when he finally allowed you to pull away, opting to kiss down your neck to your collarbones and the skin of your chest that was newly exposed as your robe slipped open.
He carefully made his way back to your room, continuing his kisses back up to your shoulder, stopping only to leave marks you knew would only grow darker as time passed. At the very least he was sure to only mark you in places you could cover with little difficulty. “I missed you so much Y/N. The entire ride home all I could think about was you waiting for me in our bed. My gorgeous girl.”. You felt your chest heat up at his words of admiration, wrapping your fingers into his curls and pulling his lips towards your own once more.
You felt him groan against you and moved to quickly unbutton his shirt, slipping it down his arms and tossing it in the general direction of the hamper. He pulled you up with him then, so you were both on your knees, chest to chest as he pulled your robe fully down your back to the swell of your ass where he grasped at you through the slick fabric. You let out a whine and you pulled his belt off, undoing his jeans desperate to continue. He grinned against your neck and pushed you down so you laid flat on your back, completely exposed to him. He kissed at your stomach, making his way down to your inner thighs. He licked a slow wet trail from your pelvic bone to the top of your clit as you whimpered desperately. “Spence, please… I need more”. He humored you, creating slow small circles with his tongue moaning at the taste. You cried out as he created the perfect amount of pressure on your clit, legs threatening to close around his head when he moved to slip one of his fingers easily inside you as the mix of your own wetness and his saliva aided him. He smirked as he felt your thighs flex before using his left hand to throw one of your legs over his shoulders at a time. He pushed a second finger in, curling them up to perfectly reach your g-spot with every thrust. Soon though, you grew impatient with just his fingers. You needed more and you knew just how to get it.
“I want you so bad Spence. I’ve waited for so long and I just can’t anymore. I need to feel you deep inside of me.”. You were positive those words would leave him just as needy as you were and he proved you right when he kicked his pants the rest of the way off and went to line himself up against you. “Wait.”. He stopped immediately, examining your face for any indication of what was wrong. “What’s the matter baby? Are you okay?”. You shook your head and smiled at his concern before switching your positions so his back was resting against the pillows as you straddle his thighs. He smirked at you as he caught on, trailing his hands up the front of your legs to rest at your hips. “You gonna ride me angel?”. You responded with an eager nod and he squeezed your hips, pulling you up further so you were hovering above him. “Sit pretty like my good girl then.”. You whined softly at his words before slowly sinking yourself down around his length, sucking in a harsh breath at the stretch. Even with how wet you were, the adjustment took longer than usual due to the dry spell you were both suffering from as of late.
When you finally felt stretched out enough to move, you slowly ground your hips forward flush against his. He groaned out, lifting you back up so you were almost completely off of him before pulling you back down. You moaned both at the sensation and the idea of being manhandled by the genius below you. You realized what he was asking though, and began bouncing yourself up and down his cock, stopping every few thrusts to grind your clit down on him. You let out soft moans, and after a few more minutes you felt his fingers dig deeper into your hips and his breaths quicken. You knew he was close and as if on cue you started rubbing fast circles against your clit as he spoke again.
“Baby girl I’m getting close. You gonna cum with me angel?” You nodded furiously in response and you felt him start thrusting up to meet you. You panted as you hurried towards the edge of your orgasm, holding on until his thrusts grew sloppier. “You ready to cum with me baby? You gonna cum on my cock?” “Yeah.. gonna cum all over your cock Doc.” You fought to keep the grin off your face when he moaned at the title. He thrusted deep into you twice, before he ordered your release. “I want you to cum now baby. Cum all over my cock.” You felt your orgasm rip through you, electricity shooting through your limbs. Spencer groaned loudly as you tightened around him before pulling you down deep and releasing inside you.
You both fought to catch your breath as you rode out your highs before you found yourself slumping against his chest, suddenly drained from your activities. You felt him chuckle at your drastic change in energy as he wrapped his arms around you again. “I know you just washed the bed sheets and we’re both sweaty but do you think a washcloth will suffice for tonight?”. You nodded against his chest before slowly lifting yourself up and off of him, rolling onto your back on the other side of the bed. Spencer swiftly made his way across the hall, returning to wipe you down gently with the warm fabric. You shivered as the cool air dried your skin, watching him move throughout your room.
He slipped on a fresh pair of boxers before tossing the washcloth in the hamper along with his previously discarded clothes. He hung your robe on the back of your bedroom door then flipped the light switch off before rejoining you in bed to slip under the blankets with you. You immediately curled up into his chest, sighing contently as the sound of his heartbeat filled your ears. You kissed his chest and whispered goodnight, drifting into your first real sleep since before he left.
The next morning you and Spencer went shopping after you successfully convinced him to upgrade to a smart phone with video call abilities. He had begun to shut down the idea as he always had before but after the mere suggestion of what it could do to better your late night hotel room chats he was the one pulling you towards the nearest phone shop. You smiled politely while Spencer took his sweet time weighing the pros and cons of each model, letting your mind drift to the first time it would come in handy. As you finally neared the checkout counter, you took Spencer's hand in your own and gave it a gentle squeeze. After running his card through the machine, the salesgirl gave him the small plastic bag and wished you both a good afternoon.
As you exited the shop, you looked up at him, nudging him to get his attention “What do you think of an app controlled vibrator?”. He stared at you incredulously for a few moments, almost stopping dead in his tracks. After recovering from the initial shock at the vulgarity of your suggestion, he shook his head with a soft smirk and nudged back against you. “Tease.” he called you once more. “That’s the reason you love me right?”. He pulled you into his side, kissing you softly. “One of many Y/N. One of many.”
#spencer reid#Spencer reid/reader#spencer reid/you#Spencer reid x reader#Spencer reid x y/n#criminal minds#cm#Spencer reid smut#smut#Spencer reid x you#Spencer reid fanfiction
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A Little Bit Jealous
Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Warnings: smut, a lil alchohol
Summary: You are a very flirtatious person except with Wanda...
1.7k
wanted to write something before vacation as i'm still drawing blanks on PGATW! Not checked or anything oopsie. <3
You were the most flirtatious person you knew... and it was a little bit of an addictive habit. Not really a good one, either, but you didn't care enough to drop the act. You have had multiple people confess their crush on you, which inevitably ended a friendship or two, but most of the time it was just an awkward conversation about how the excessive flirting is just a platonic love language to you.
Part of it was due to your desire to make other people happy and feel good about themselves, and the other part of the habit acted as an emotional reflex. It was your go-to way of avoiding your feelings, as it also provided a boost of serotonin to witness people's reactions to your comments. So yeah, it was literally addicting.
And maybe you knew that... but at the same time, it was a part of you. You couldn't find reason enough to quit.
There was one person though, that you couldn't bring yourself to flirt with.
Wanda Maximoff.
And it wasn't like you hated her or anything... it's just that flirting with her would be real to you. It wouldn't be a game. It would make your inevitable crush on her a reality that you could never dream of passing up.
And maybe you knew that... but you would never admit it to anyone. You wanted your relationship with Wanda to be as genuine as possible, so avoiding your feelings was the way to go.
Wanda didn't really like that, though. She wanted you to flirt with her. She was jealous.
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A knock was heard at your door as you were making your finishing outfit touches for Tony's fundraiser party, pushing the rubber back onto your earring. You opened the door to find Wanda in a sparkling red dress, and you willed everything in you to not stare at her image, much less make any comments. She had on a pair of matching heels and vibrant red lipstick, and her hair was pulled into a loose braid that cascaded down her back.
"Hey," You breathed a soft smile, begrudgingly peeling your eyes away.
"You ready?" You knew she had on a grin behind your back as you went to put in your last earring in front of the mirror.
"Yeah." You turned back around to face her.
"You look lovely, by the way..." She said as she followed you out the door.
"Oh... thank you. You too, Wanda." You bit your tongue. Yes, I might look lovely, but you are stunning, baby. A small blush lit your cheeks that you hoped the Sokovian couldn't see.
"Are you excited for the party?" She attempted to make conversation on the way to the elevator.
"Uhh... yeah! I love spending time with everyone when we're not on a mission. It's fun. Plus everyone is always drunk at the afterparty, and it's a great source of entertainment for someone who doesn't drink." You smirked, remembering the last few parties very vividly.
"Right..." Wanda reflected on what happened last time with a tinge of embarrassment. "I think I'll join you in sobriety for this one."
That made you laugh, remembering her previous situation with alcohol.
"Remind me why you don't drink, though?"
You faltered, not wanting to get too deep into a conversation at the moment.
"Uhh... My dad.."
"Hey! Hold the elevator!" You released a breath that you didn't know you were holding as Natasha walked up to the doors. You whistled when she stepped inside.
"Whew Nat! Who are you after tonight? You look hot, honey! More than normal, at least!" You jokingly raked your eyes down her body as she laughed.
"Oh, shut up. I just thought I might have a little fun tonight." She rolled her eyes.
"Well save a little bit of that fun for me," you smirked as she hit your arm, missing the blush on Wanda's cheeks as you talked with nat.
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The time for the afterparty had finally arrived as the team had found themselves crowded on the couches once again, inebriated except for you. Wanda had failed at her word of sobriety, but not by much. Tony had found an empty bottle around, so everyone was getting ready for a game of spin the bottle: seven minutes in heaven.
To your surprise, Wanda wanted to go first. You didn't know if you wanted it to land on you or not, but you would find out soon enough that maybe the Sokovian had made it land on you.
"Alright, Wanda. You game?" You smirked.
"I'm the one who spun it, you idiot. Of course, I am." You laughed as the two of you headed over to the storage closet.
"You know, I could have bet that you couldn't avoid alcohol tonight. I should have." You said as you shut the door behind you.
"Oh, come on. I had one drink." She rolled her eyes and you laughed, but no time passed before she asked a question. "How come you don't flirt with me?"
This caught you off guard as your expression dropped.
"Umm... huh..." You had no idea how to respond.
"Oh come on. You practically undressed Nat with your eyes in the elevator and you were all over Sam and Maria tonight. You don't do that with me. Do you not like me, or something? Why am I any different?" She looked genuinely hurt, and you decided at that moment that you couldn't hold back what you felt for her.
You bit back any comments about jealousy or desire, but for once, forced yourself to spit out your feelings.
"Because... Wanda. If I flirt with you, that means it's gonna be real."
"What is going to be real?"
"My feelings for you are going to be real. I wouldn't be complimenting you to give you a confidence boost, it would be to be vulnerable with you. I wouldn't be undressing you with my eyes just to say that you look good, but because I actually want to undress you. And that's too many ideas and thoughts for me to hold onto, Wanda. And if this conversation made you uncomfortable... you can understand why I don't flirt with you, Wanda." You thinned your lips and leaned back onto one of the shelves, nervous for her response.
"What if I don't want you to hold onto those thoughts?" You looked up.
"What are you saying..."
"When you compliment me, I want to know that it's real. When you dance close, I want to know that you feel the same desire that I do. When you roll your eyes at me, I want to know that it's only because I made you feel that way. And when you undress me with your eyes, I want to know that you're actually imagining pulling my clothes off piece by piece, taking your time to treat me right."
Wanda was now standing right in front of you, breathing as heavily as you.
"How many minutes do we have left?" You whispered.
"five and a half."
"No time to waste then," You crashed your lips into hers, relishing in the touch that you never imagined you'd be allowed to have. A little headstrong, you backed her up into the opposite wall, picking her up and holding her against the shelf. Her thighs hugged onto your waist as your hands made their way around her body.
You moved your lips down her neck as you worked to hike up her short red dress, earning a groan when your hands found their way to her ass.
"How long have you been wanting to do this, darling?" Wanda smirked through a heavy pant.
"Ever since we met, baby. I glanced at you and knew I should stop myself before I even started. Why, what about you?" You placed her back down on the ground as your lips drifted onto her chest and your hands found her inner thighs.
"Ever since you made a suggestive comment to Nat. I realized how much I wanted it to be me."
"Jealous, are we?" You smirked against her skin.
"I never said tha- oh," She moaned as you grazed your fingers over her panties.
"Try that again, baby."
"Ok, maybe a little bit."
"Good girl." You nearly whispered as you pushed the fabric aside and slowly dragged two fingers through her cunt. "You're so wet for me, Wanda. It's hard to think I've denied this from you for so long."
"Yeah, well you can make up for it now, darling." Wanda groaned as you continued to lightly stroke her pussy.
"What do you want me to do, Wanda?" You smirked up to her and she glared at you but gave into begging anyways.
"I want you to shove those two fingers inside of me and fuck me like your little jealous slut. I want to come undone to you, darling... I want to be yours. Take me, please."
Both of you knew that Wanda had long since won you over, but her words sent shocks down your spine as you pushed your fingers in. You didn't hesitate to pick up the speed, watching her expressions to see what she liked and didn't. After a curl of your fingers, she gasped, and you grinned.
You continued to work at that spot, slowly working her clit with your other hand.
"Do you wanna cum, Wanda?" You teased and she quickly nodded. You picked up the pace of your pumps and strokes one more time before finally feeling her release. As you slowed her down, you brought your lips back up to hers.
You slowly slipped your fingers out and brought them up to your mouth, groaning as she watched you with lust.
"How much time do we have left?" She croaked, a knock at the door coming shortly after.
"None."
"Not happening." She grabbed your wrist and teleported the two of you to her room.
"Are you two good in there?" Steve's voice came from the other side of the door. "Hello?" Another pause. "I'm coming in." He opened the door, but nobody was in there, returning to the group. "It's empty."
Everyone looked confused.
"Hey, Jarvis?" Tony yelled. "Where are Wanda and Y/N?"
"Ms. Maximoff brought Y/N up to her room."
"About time." Nat giggled, followed by everyone else. Of course, everyone already knew.
#wanda x you#wanda x reader#what other tags am i supposed to use#rip sorry it was rushed#wanda blurb#wanda smut#ill clean this up eventually
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