#just her face says a thousand words in every situation | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

acourtofwhatthefuck · 5 months

Text

Practice On Me — Part Thirteen — Azriel x Reader

Summary: Backstreet’s back, ALRIGHT! Or rather, the Bat Boys™️ sort their issues out. Tathaln’s ball is officially announced. Azriel gives Kaeda a piece of his mind. Fin has no business being the sexy dad he is. Roza’s worried about reader.

Word count: 6.3k.

Warnings: None for this part.

All is silent, save for the rhythmic tick-tick-ticking of the clock. Cassian has always hated that clock. Finds it fucking annoying.

But it fills the vacant hole that exists in the absence of conversation. That hole is open and gaping between Cassian and Azriel. It’s not a table that sits between them — it’s a dangerous, yawning chasm.

Az stares at Cass, and Cass feels uncomfortable. He’s seen that cold gaze be levelled on people hundreds of times, thousands. To be on the receiving end feels a little like staring death in the face. He actually kind of wishes that Kaeda hadn’t been sent off to the dorms to sleep off her drunken state, because at least then he wouldn’t be the only one here, being subjected to…this.

So, he stands up, so abruptly that his chair almost topples over, and asks, “Want me to make you some tea?” The question feels stupid the second it leaves his lips.

Azriel’s eyes track him, drink in every uneasy shift and twitch. It’s not that Cass is afraid of Az — though anybody with half a brain cell would be — just that he’s not good in these situations. Situations where he has to be serious and…and listen.

“Cassian.” The shadowsinger’s cold voice stops him before he can move. “When, in our years of friendship, have you ever once made me tea?”

Cass peers over a broad shoulder and shrugs half-heartedly. “First time for everything…”

“Sit.”

The word brooks no room for argument. Cassian does, indeed, sit.

It’s then that Azriel heaves a deep sigh, his entire body taut as a bowstring, and says, “I’m sorry.”

Cass blinks. “What?”

“I’m sorry—for what I did in the mead hall. I…had no right.”

“…But Y/N and I…”

“It’s not for me to dictate whether the two of you should or shouldn’t lie together. My…jealousy…is my problem, and mine alone.”

This is hard, Cassian realises — for Az to say this. For him to face it. And Cass can relate to that. Not everyone can be as silver-tongued as Rhysand. The Mother knows, Cass himself isn’t.

But he also isn’t an idiot. Some people may believe him to be, and that’s their mistake, because being proved wrong is usually the last thing they remember before waking up to a healer standing over them. He’s aware enough of his surroundings to know that something was brewing between Azriel and Y/N for years before Cass took her to bed…or kitchen counter, or…whatever.

“I need to be better,” Cassian offers, “at thinking before I act. Thinking about who I might hurt with my decisions. I’m working on it.”

Az studies his friend, and he feels no anger. If anything, it’s guilt that claws at the shadowsinger. He gave poor Cass a pretty good hiding over something that was, essentially, none of his business. And it could have all been different if Az simply wasn’t a coward, afraid of his feelings.

Something he needs to work on.

And perhaps he’s doing that as, rather than burying the topic, he asks, “What…what actually happened? How did you end up sleeping together? I mean…do you have feelings—”

“No.” Cassian cuts him off, blinking. “Gods, no. I love Y/N, you know that. But not romantically. I just…I felt so damn useless that night, Az. If you’d seen the way Y/N was…the self-loathing. I didn’t know how to help.”

Immediately, Azriel’s brow pinches. “Self-loathing?”

“Because of what her father did to her. When we were flying to Fenlaros, and she was the only one being carried in…”

Azriel slumps back in his chair, feeling like a godsdamned idiot.

He blinks forward and wonders what the fuck the point is in being born a shadowsinger when he obviously can’t read situations very well. Within seconds, it’s clicking into place.

“And then you started that fight with that Fenlarion male,” Cass continued. “and Kaeda just declared that it was her you were fighting over…and everyone has a limit, you know? I think that night was just all too much for Y/N. And she was so upset, so downtrodden…talking about how she hated herself. And I’m not good with words like Rhys is, and I’m not as observant as you are, but I am good at physical touch. Physical comfort. And it seemed like the only thing I could offer in that moment to take that bleakness away from her. But I should have thought about how you would feel—”

“I’m glad you were there for her.” Azriel blurts, realising, with every word, how much he means them. “I wasn’t. I failed her that night.”

“I really didn’t know that the two of you had been exploring things. If I did, I wouldn’t have done it. I mean…that fight you started wasn’t over Kaeda at all, was it?”

Az’s eyes shutter. And it goes against every natural instinct of his to strip himself bare and just…be honest. Every steel wall he’s ever built up is screeching in its effort to stand strong and not be caved in. And those walls were necessary in a life of darkness and hate…but that life is long gone.

What good do those walls do him in an environment where he has love, has people who genuinely care for him? As much as he wants to run and hide from his feelings as he always has…he thinks that the key to happiness may be on the other side of those walls. That a new bravery lays in letting some light filter through the cracks and warm a guarded heart.

His voice is quiet, laced with a self-preserving fear, as he admits, “No. It was not.”

Before Cassian can offer an encouraging response, the front door is swinging open, and Rhysand is kicking snow from his boots and trudging in. Azriel tenses like a threatened animal — but there is no threat here. Only safety, only love. He forces his shoulders to relax.

The violet-eyed male takes in the sight before him. Goes still as he looks between his two friends. “Please tell me this is a positive conversation.”

Cassian inclines his head. “Work in progress. Why don’t you make some tea?”

“Fuck you, make your own tea—”

“Make me some tea—”

“Kiss my ass, dickhole—”

“I’m in love with Y/N.” Azriel blurts.

It promptly shuts the other two males up.

They turn away from their bickering to look at the shadowsinger. He looks…shocked, by his own confession.

“I’m in love with her,” he breathes.

Cass and Rhys share a glance, and then Rhys is slowly approaching the table, carefully taking a seat like he doesn’t want to startle Azriel out of the moment.

“We know, Az.” Rhys tells him gently. “I mean…I think we always suspected…”

“I started that fight in Fenlaros because I was jealous of that damn male having his hands all over her. Saying the things he was saying. It was nothing to do with Kaeda.”

“You should really tell her — Y/N, I mean. Tell her how you feel.”

Azriel’s eyes trace a mark in the table as he admits, “Kind of already have. When she came to speak to me earlier today.”

Another glance is shared between Cassian and Rhys. And both are equally surprised — figure they would have heard something about it. Unless…unless it hadn’t gone down well.

And now that Rhys thinks about it, Y/N had been tense whilst he’d flown her back to Velaris. Taut in his arms and barely uttering a few words. Perhaps this was why.

“Did she…not take it well?” Rhys hedges. He wants to be delicate, not go blasting in at full-force. So rarely do they get to see such a vulnerable side to Az.

Azriel shakes his head once. “It’s not that, it’s…” He clears his throat. “It’s more complicated than that.”

“How?” Cass pushes, and Rhys shoots him a warning glance.

But Azriel doesn’t balk from it, doesn’t slink back in his seat. Instead, he lifts his head, and he levels his friends with a desperate look.

“There’s more that I haven’t told you.” He says.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

A short while later, Az thinks that maybe talking through his feelings is a good thing. Just saying the words has a little bit of weight easing from his chest, his shoulders.

But Cass and Rhys aren’t saying anything at all. Cass and Rhys are staring at him like he has two damn heads.

And then Cassian sits up, barking, “Tathaln Baralas wants what?”

“Exactly what I told you.” Azriel shakes his head. “He wants me to move to Fenlaros and work alongside him. Has some sort of backing from the High Lord, though I’m not sure how much. In a nutshell, Kaeda’s interest in me has always been driven by her father.”

“I knew that little wasp was up to something. You know she tried to kiss me tonight?”

Az shrugs. Really could not give a fuck. “I figured something had happened from the look on your face.”

“I never liked her. Nor her father—”

“Her father,” Rhys cuts in, “walks a very fine line in presuming to exceed in his role as a Camp Lord. His ego and title are going to his head a little, it would seem, if he believes he has the authority to scheme such ideas.”

“It’s a terrible idea.” Cass says. Neither of the other two noticed him get up, but he’s returning to his seat, speaking around a mouthful of food. “All Illyrians in one big camp? They’ll kill each other.”

Rhys is inclined to agree. But he turns a neutral — maybe gentle — expression on Az and asks him, “Do you want to go to Fenlaros?”

It would kill him if Az said yes. Would kill Cass, too. These recent days of being torn apart by tension has been bad enough. Being in different camps and not seeing each other is an almost unbearable thought.

But they would find a way to live with it, if Az decided he wanted to go. They’d find a way to be okay with it.

Such thick silence fills the room that the thudding of all three of their hearts is audible.

But then Azriel replies quietly, “No.”

Neither Rhys nor Cassian bother to hide their relief.

“I told Kaeda I would think about it.” Azriel goes on. “And I told Y/N that I’d promised Kaeda that. But I don’t think I’ve ever really intended to think about it — or needed to. I think…I think I was just using it to bide my time. To create space for myself and…avoid everything else.”

“By everything else,” Cassian chomps into a loaf of bread, “do you mean facing your feelings for Y/N?”

Azriel can’t deny it. He nods. “It’s not an easy thing to face…to be vulnerable. Hiding behind this Fenlaros situation has just been easier. Cowardly, yes, but…easier.”

“You can’t keep pushing her away, though, Az.” Rhys says. “You can’t let her think that you might be leaving if you have no intention of doing so.”

The shadowsinger’s eyes flutter shut, thick, dark lashes grazing his cheekbones. “Do you think I’ve fucked it beyond repair?”

“No.” Cassian offers. “But you will, if you don’t start handling this the right way. Tell Kaeda and Tathaln to fuck off. Tell Y/N you’re in love with her and want to see her naked—”

“Watch it.” Azriel warns quietly, but Cass continues, unperturbed.

“Just start letting more people in. And I’ll stop letting so many people in, because it gets me into trouble. I think…I think we all need to grow up a little. Do better.”

Rhysand’s brow pinches. “What do you mean, we all do? I’ve done nothing other than put my own pleasure aside to advise you idiots. What could I possibly need to do better?”

Cassian shrugs. “That haircut, for one. It’s annoying.”

“And when was the last time your hair saw a comb, Cassian?”

“When was the last time you were generous and made tea for your good, long-suffering friend?”

“So this is about the tea.”

“Of course it’s about the tea, jackass. Zakai clearly isn’t with you for your observational skills…”

Azriel sits back, allowing their bickering to become background noise. There’s a warmth to the sight, the sound, that makes him realise he never again wants a repeat of this situation — of being apart from his friends for days, tension thick between them.

He loves Rhys and Cassian. Loves them dearly.

Another reason why he could never, ever turn his back on this place.

And he finds himself actually being…grateful…that Cass was there for Y/N that night. That she didn’t have to suffer her self-loathing alone.

There’s still a lot to get through, of course. Daunting emotions and truths to face head-on. But as he watches the two loveable idiots in front of him take verbal swipes at each other, it’s the first time in a while that he wonders if things might actually be okay.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The news is announced the next day, when Lord Devlon gathers a rather colourful bunch of his soldiers in the mead hall and stands at the front, silencing them all with a single shout. Rhys, Cassian and Azriel stand against the far back wall, their arms folded over their chests.

Gods, they hope it’s not another training exercise. Not so soon. Az has things he wants to resolve before he saunters off and possibly gets himself killed.

But Devlon reads the roll of parchment in his hands, a frown contorting his features. He looks up, his eyes very deliberately finding Rhysand as he announces to the room, “A message from the High Lord.”

And every other gaze is then swivelling to turn on Rhys, too. There’s something accusatory about it, like they’re assuming he’s privy to whatever it is their asses have been dragged out of bed to hear.

He isn’t. He wants to be in bed, too.

“Looks like you pricks better get your dancing shoes ready.” Devlon raises his eyebrows. “The High Lord is calling for a ball. Legions from all camps invited.”

This — this is exciting news for the brutish males who could fill the mead hall with their egos alone. Not because they have a particular affinity for dancing, but because amongst themselves, they’re already murmuring about which particular camps they dislike for some reason or other, and what they plan to do about it. So many bloodthirsty streaks are painted in those males’ eyes, stamping out the tiredness that lay there only moments before.

Nothing pricks an Illyrian male’s ears up quite like the prospect of a fight.

“The legions from each camp have been carefully selected, and you lucky fuckers will be representing Windhaven.” The Camp Lord continues, disdain dripping from his voice. He wants his men out there training in the cold, not prancing around a dance floor. “Plus-ones are allowed, also, so it might be time to splash out on a pretty gown for whoever is warming your bed these days. The ball is to be held on Starfall, at a neutral venue of the High Lord’s choosing, and I expect you all to make Windhaven — and me — look good. Any questions?”

“Do we actually have to dance?” One male asks, while another one pipes up with, “Will those pricks from Camp Steelshore be there?”

Rhys shuts out the litany of battling voices as he turns a concerned look on Az and Cass. Their expressions mirror his own. Something about this feels…off.

So while he looks like he’s merely lounging against the wall, hands in his pockets, he sends his inner claws spearing straight for Devlon’s mind. He doesn’t give away what he’s doing, not even slightly, as he roots around in the Camp Lord’s thoughts and grabs for his glimpse of the letter. Rhys scans it, drops the thought, and he’s out of Devlon’s mind and straightening himself up before the male can so much as flinch.

“Let’s go.” He tells his friends, and not Devlon nor the males around them seem to care as Azriel and Cassian follow him, the formidable trio traipsing out into the thawing snow, regardless of whether the meeting is over or not.

They’re halfway back to the house, safely out of earshot, when Cassian finally barks, “A ball? What the fuck?”

“At the request of Tathaln Baralas.” Rhys reveals. “That’s what the letter said. He took the idea to my father, and the asshole is humouring him. This has all got to be part of Tathaln’s plan.”

Cassian scowls and spits his disdain at the ground. “Someone needs to drive a poison arrow through that prick’s heart already. I don’t like this one bit.”

“It’s my father’s intentions I’m worried about.” Rhys shakes his head. “Tathaln only has the power that my father gives him. One word from him and this idea could be snuffed out and never mentioned again. And I expected that to be the case. Arrogant as fuck he may be, but my father isn’t stupid. He’ll know what a terrible idea this is, and I would have predicted that he’d laugh in Tathaln’s face for mentioning it. I didn’t think he’d actually entertain it…which means—”

“There’s something in it for him.” Azriel finishes.

Rhysand nods. “Every single move and choice my father makes is, ultimately, for his own gain. He would never agree to anything if he weren’t getting something out of it himself. Whatever Tathaln has proposed to him…my father will be using it for his own gain.”

Cassian opens the door to the cottage and strides in, forgetting — as always — to kick the snow from his boots. “What, though?” He asks. “What could Tathaln have that your father could want?”

Rhys shrugs and waves a hand, magic promptly mopping up the wet, melting trail left in Cassian’s wake. “That, I don’t know.”

“So what do we do?” Az watches him closely, trying to read the thoughts on the male’s face. His shadows reach out to him, too. “Are you going to talk to your father? Make him see how ridiculous this idea is?”

“No,” Rhys shakes his head. “There would be no point. I could lay a whole host of truths out to my father, and he’d go against them on ego alone. He must want something badly enough for him to be throwing money into it. This ball won’t be cheap.”

“And it won’t be a ball, either.” Cassian cocks an eyebrow. Roots through the kitchen cupboards for food. “Blood will be spilled. And you can’t dance on blood. I’ve tried. Too slippy.”

Rhys chooses to ignore that little scrap of information. Mostly because he doesn’t doubt it for a second. “I don’t want us to pre-empt anything.” He says. “If I go straight to my father with concerns about any of this, it could blow up in our faces, instead. For the time being, I think we should just…go along with it. Watch it play out, and see what happens. My father is unpredictable. Even I can’t tell you what goes on in his head.”

“I can speak with Kaeda.” Az clears his throat. “See if she’ll tell me anything.”

“You have fun with that.” Cassian mumbles, biting into something. “I’d sooner chop my balls off and nail them to the front door.”

“Such a way with words. It’s no wonder, really, that females fall at your feet.”

Cass shoots him a wicked grin. And this…this is nice. What they’ve both missed. This is normal.

“I’ll keep an eye and ear out for anything.” Rhys drags them back to the subject at hand. “But my father’s good at not letting anyone know things until he wants them to know them. And he’s clearly serious about this.”

Cassian swallows. Takes another bite. “And until then? Until we know what he’s even serious about?”

Violet eyes sparkle with mischief, and one side of Rhysand’s lips tips up. “Until then, boys,” he says, “you’d better practice your dancing.”

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Azriel really hopes she’s not there, but sure enough, when he enters his room at the dorms, Kaeda is sitting up in his bed.

It gives him a little bit of satisfaction to see her look…less than perfect, for once. Her hair is knotted, and even the vibrancy of the red shade seems a little dulled. Her skin is sallow, her eyes bleary. He wonders if she’s as miserable as she currently looks.

She beholds him with a strangely coy look, like she’s waiting for him to rip into her. But if she really knew the shadowsinger, she’d know that that is not his style. He does not shout. He rarely fights physically. His danger lies in his quiet voice and icy stare.

Kaeda’s tired eyes fall to the blanket pooled around her waist, and she murmurs, “You’re angry with me.” Her throat bobs with a swallow. “I understand. But I appreciate you putting me to sleep in here when I was in a vulnerable state.”

“I would have done it for anyone.” Az presses his back against the wall, folding his arms. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

The female merely bows her head. Doesn’t bother to argue.

“I have a question.” Azriel then says. “I’d like an answer.”

“I know that Cassian has probably told you about last night, and all I can say is I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed him. I was drunk and upset and I—”

“I don’t care about that.” He really doesn’t, and it shows on his face. “I want to know what your father is playing at by organising an Illyrian ball. I don’t believe for a second that the gesture is an innocent one.”

She glances down again, but Azriel doesn’t buy the coy act for one moment.

“Kaeda.” His voice is laced with warning. “Tell me.”

“It’s just…a ball. A ball to have all camps in one place, so he can get a good look at what each one has to offer. It’s nothing sinister.”

“So, a chance for him to scout more supporters for his cause.”

“He’s trying to make a change, Azriel. A good one—”

“He’s interfering with lives. Tearing families apart.”

“Good results require difficult choices.” Her voice hardens.

The shadowsinger bites out a cold, brusque laugh, turning away from her. “Mother above, he has you trained well.”

There’s movement behind him. Kaeda is kicking the sheets away and pushing to her feet. And she’s…seething.

“You would laugh in the face of somebody trying to make a positive change?” She snaps. “What reason have you to be so arrogant? At least my father is trying to make a difference. All you’re doing is clinging to a miserable life in a miserable place where you don’t even have a family or home of your own—”

“Except that I do.” Azriel rounds on her so quickly that his wing knocks a fragrance bottle off a shelf. “I may not have your riches, and that’s fine, because I have a group of people — a family I made — who love me enough to care whether or not I come home at night. Who want nothing less for me than happiness and contentedness, and not just to use me as a pawn in some convoluted plan that will do more harm than good. I have reason to be in Windhaven, whether it’s miserable or not. I have love here. So much of it. And there’s nothing — not a damn thing — that would make me turn my back on it.”

Something in his impassioned speech clearly hits a nerve with Kaeda. She goes still.

And she looks…small, despite being fairly tall. She looks…insignificant.

Her eyes fill with tears. One spills over and rolls down her cheek as she whispers, “Please, Azriel.”

Azriel says nothing. Stares at her.

“Please.” She takes a step closer. “I’m not above begging. I…” Her voice cracks. “I need this. I need you to say yes—”

“Your father,” he interrupts quietly, “is playing a very dangerous game. And he’s using you to do it.”

“You don’t understand. I…if I can’t give him what he wants, I’m finished. I’ll have no home to go to, nobody on my side.”

“You already have nobody on your side. You’re his daughter and he’s dangling your livelihood over your head and ready to snatch it away if he doesn’t get what he wants. You’re already finished.”

“Please.” She says again. Tears are streaming, now, and she tries fruitlessly to wipe them away. “Please, just…if this is about Y/N—”

“Do not,” he grits out, “bring her into this.”

“She’s already in this. I know that you want her and not me…that you always have…and that’s fine. Bring her to Fenlaros with you, if you must. I’m sure my father could be persuaded on that. But just…please—”

“You’re not listening, Kaeda. This isn’t just about my family. It’s about all the other families that would be separated, ripped apart by your father’s scheming. He’s power hungry. This is just the beginning of a whole host of self-serving plans that will bring him glory — do not doubt that for a second. People like him are never satisfied, and he needs to be stopped. Not encouraged.”

“You’re wrong.” Her voice is so weak, Az isn’t convinced she believes her own words. “He just wants a better future for Illyria—”

“No.” Az levels her with a pointed look. “He wants a better future for himself. I will not play a part in that, and neither will my loved ones.”

“Azriel, please—”

“I will attend your father’s ball, just as Lord Devlon has ordered me to do.” He breezes to the door, not caring that this is his room he’s leaving her behind in. He stops, palm poised on the handle. “But as for delivering a male straight into your father’s den? You better start trying that seduction on somebody else. Because there is nothing that would make me follow you into that camp.”

He leaves without a glance back. And while it sits uncomfortably inside him that he made a female cry…he can’t help feeling like he’s finally doing the right thing.

About time, too.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

This — this is the last thing you ever would have expected of coming to Velaris.

The tonic you’d needed was an extended amount of girl time with Roza. And yet here you are…in the High Lord’s arms.

“This is useless.” You murmur, aware of every single place your body brushes against his. One of his hands is a firm weight on the small of your back, the other clasping yours. “I’m not a natural dancer. Fuck, I’ve never even been to a dance.”

Fin’s mouth tips up at the corners. “There’s that filthy mouth.” His hand lets go of yours, opting to move up to the cut of your jaw, where he allows his thumb to rest on your lower lip. “You,” the pad of it swipes slowly over your mouth, “are going to be exquisite.”

You square your shoulders. Cock a challenging eyebrow. “Is that genuine encouragement, High Lord? Or an order?”

A deep chuckle. Slowly — reluctantly —he lets his hand drop. “Both.”

Flirting with him like this, playing the part of the High Lord’s pet, is a necessary evil. You’re just so surprisingly good at it that you can’t discern whether it’s an affront to him, or to Roza. Or both.

But you can’t deny that you’ve been flattered by his undivided attention this past week. And perhaps he’s been flattered by yours, too.

Mother bless Roza for her undying support. The best you can do for her, right now, is to keep her in the loop. She merely tells you to be careful.

But a week — a week of cosying up to Fin, of breaking through his exterior and appealing yourself to him. You humour him with these dance lessons, with the preposterously expensive shopping trips and dinners, the late night fireside conversations. Anything, everything, to get him to tell you what truth lies behind the excited glint in his eyes whenever he speaks of the ball. To tell you what it is he’s planning.

Perhaps you’re not appealing enough. You are no more aware than anyone else. And that’s really fucking frustrating.

At least your hard work has kept you from thinking about Azriel every five minutes.

Your breath still heaving from your dance efforts, you make your way over to the table of refreshments by the huge, arcing windows that overlook the city. The High Lord’s palace, you have to admit, is a place you might miss once you’re back in Windhaven. You’ve never been one for luxury, never had more than a few things to your name — but the views are what makes you feel like the richest person in all of Prythian. These are not the cold, barren views of your camp, but a place of such vibrancy, it sometimes makes you want to cry. It’s like the setting of a storybook, laid out right before you.

From behind, slow, graceful footsteps sweep across the wooden floor. Fin comes to a stop so closely behind you that his body heat encases you.

Fingertips make contact with your skin, the back of your neck. The sleeveless tunic you wore for your practice now feels like nothing more than a paper towel.

“You have such beautiful skin.” Fin says roughly, and you tense. So far, this week, he’s kept a respectful distance away. Hasn’t put you in any awkward positions.

You pivot under his touch, pressing your back up against the table enough that his hand drops. It’s not entirely for show as you smile apologetically and tell him, “Sorry — scars.”

Such genuine, slicing rage fills his face. The intensity of it almost knocks you breathless.

“I will kill him.” He says the words like a lover’s promise. “With my bare hands, I will kill him for taking your wings.”

He had the power to stop the practice before you were even born. He is very old — over nine-hundred-years — and very powerful. What he says, goes.

And yet…he means it. You can see it. And perhaps you have seen so much unkindness, such brutality, that little scraps of ferocity, of passion, in your defence, make you a blinded fool.

But a part of him — however small — actually cares about you. Enough to mark your abuser for death.

But your father’s blood will soak your hands, and yours only.

You smile up at him, wickedly, cunningly, prettily. “No, you won’t.” You reply. “Because I will do it first.”

And the fury in his stare simmers immediately to a different sort of heat. Your words are a flirtation to him — a cut of raw meat dangled above a hungry, waiting animal. They make him feel something.

“Such a murderous little thing.” His soft laugh caresses your skin. He sounds pleased — impressed. “I like that. I like it a lot.”

“I would hope so. I am to be your special guest at the ball, after all.” A small voice in your head wants to coax him; tell me what you’re planning, tell me what to expect.

But, as always, he steers the conversation away, a vague, mysterious smile on his face. “Do you like it here in Velaris, my murderess?”

“I do, very much so.”

“I can’t help pondering how much you would thrive here. You were made for so much more than Windhaven. Illyria, even.”

A soft, coy smile — one that comes from deep within that part of you that wants the praise, the compliments — that needs them. “Many would disagree with you.”

“Show them to me, and I will twist their minds until they see in you what I do.”

“And what is it you see in me?” A disingenuous little liar. A good actress. A traitor.

Fin leans down, and for one startling, heart-stopping, stomach-lurching moment, you think his mouth might meet yours.

But his lips brush over your cheek in a tender, barely-there caress. He presses a kiss to the skin before retracting. Straightening himself out. The way he slides his hands into his pockets with casual arrogance reminds you so much of Rhys that you miss your friend instantaneously.

“I see beauty that is unappreciated, and intelligence that is underestimated.” Fin says. “And I see a female that I wouldn’t mind having at my side.” His eyes trace you from head to toe. “I wouldn’t mind it at all.”

No response sits on your tongue. You think you might be too surprised by the genuine praise. The fact that the High Lord actually feels some level of affection towards you.

Maybe you’re not so bad at these games.

He turns without waiting for your response, and only when he’s at the door does he make eye contact with you over his shoulder.

“Keep practicing the dancing, my murderess.” He says. “We’ll make a fine pair at that ball.”

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

If Roza weren’t so worried, she might laugh at the three expressions of outrage that meet her when she strolls into the cottage.

Rhysand jumps up immediately and demands, “Did you fly here? You’re supposed to be resting.”

Roza merely rolls her eyes and shuts the door behind her. “Don’t get your undergarments in a bunch, Rhysand. I’m pregnant — not on my death bed. The babe is fine.”

Her son does not look convinced. Neither do Azriel or Cassian. As if they’re, like, experts on pregnancy, or something.

“What are you doing here, mother?” Rhys stalks straight to the fire and stokes it. Then straight over to the kitchen to make a hot drink. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes. Mostly.” Roza pauses. “I hope.”

Azriel sits up at that. “Is Y/N alright?”

“She’s fine.” If playing games with the High Lord of the Night Court can be considered fine. Roza eases herself into a seat, and Cassian is promptly propping cushions behind her back. “I want to talk to you about the ball.”

Cass’s lips turn up into a half-smile. “We’ll be on our best behaviour, Roz. Promise.”

“You’d better be. Because I want all three of you looking out for Y/N at that ball, do you hear me?”

The command is a firm one, and yet the three males don’t straighten up at her matriarchal tone like they usually do. Instead, they share a puzzled glance, frowns pinching their features.

“It’s a ball for Illyrian soldiers and their guests of choice.” Rhys explains, carrying a steaming mug over to her. “None of us are bringing her along. Not to that.”

“You may not be.” Roza slides a protective hand over her bump. “But your father is.”

All three males go so preternaturally still, it’s almost frightening.

Rhys bites out, quietly, “What?”

“Your father is taking Y/N to the ball as his special guest. He’s bought her a gown, taught her to dance — he’s serious about this.”

“He can’t.” The shadowsinger’s face is like rolling thunder. “He cannot take her there. All those males—”

“That’s precisely why I’m not attending. He needs someone in my place, and he’s taking Y/N.”

“He can choose someone else.” Azriel’s clipped tone, his panic, is not at all personal to Roza. Usually, he would never speak to her in such a way, but—

But this is Y/N they’re talking about. Y/N in the High Lord’s hands, at a ball with so many Illyrian males, too many Illyrian males.

“Watch your tone, Azriel.” Rhys warns, but Roza is holding up a hand. Because she gets it — the panic.

“I’ve tried telling him to take somebody, anybody, else.” She says. “He’s insistent — absolutely adamant that he wants Y/N.”

“But why?” Cassian frowns.

“I don’t know. I don’t know if his kindness to her is genuine or not.” She shakes her head, absentmindedly stroking her bump. “All I know is that he’s taking Y/N to that ball, and I’m not going to be there. You know, Rhysand, that there is no changing your father’s mind once it’s set. I need the three of you to look out for her.”

Because Y/N is just as much a daughter to Roza as the little girl growing in her belly. They know that.

Rhys inclines his head, reaching out to place a hand over Roza’s. “We will, mother.” He promises. “Whatever game he’s playing…we’ll look after Y/N.”

Roza’s eyes dart to Azriel, to Cassian. “Do you promise?”

“We promise.” Cassian, unfazed as always, grins. “You just focus on the little one, Roz.”

Azriel’s face is grave, but he nods once. “We won’t let her out of our sight.”

Y/N is in good hands with them, Roza knows. She may even be in good hands with Fin, depending on what his true intentions are. Perhaps being at the High Lord’s side is the safest place she can be. It’s an unknown.

But one thing Azriel does know, as he wishes and wishes for this damn ball to just be over already, is that he’s wracked with guilt.

He can’t help feeling like it’s his fault — that his actions, his behaviour, chased Y/N right into a viper’s den.

That he’ll stop at nothing to get her out of it.

pom tags: @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @sirenpearldust @queercodedcharacter @azriels-shadowsinger @ruler-of-hades @demi03 @magicaldragonlady @abrielletargaryen @ralsieq @v3lv3tf0x @achase2002 @feyretopia @hayrunnwr @don’t-feed-the-hipsters @brekkershadowsinger @piceous21 @bloodicka @acourtofinkandpapyrus @riri-is-agirlie @siriusement @4valyries @socmono @azriels-mate123 @acourtofbatboydreams @katherinearcheron @nesemi @lupinswolfsbanes @dreaming-unafraid @dxnniiix @cyrygher @liddyr03 @lmllsl @nightless @teenageeggscissorslawyer @brighterthanlonelythoughts @blitz-fall @maybefoxysouls @mschanand1erbong @juiceboxreads @bangtanbecks @florencemtrash @hyemishii @obixix @thenovarose @meshellexplosionmurder @angzlxna @lissy31xoxo-blog @supernatural99 @positivewitch @art3-m1ss @milfhunter-pdx @bbuckysbeardd @coralseacourt @towhateverend87 @sspookz @bird-on-the-wire33 @morrie-rose @megwan @catscanteleport @sevikas-whore @thickthighs-sadeyes @hihelloitsbooktimeppl

924 notes · View notes

vanteguccir · 29 days

Text

Lavender Haze | Matt Sturniolo

Matt Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Where Y/N drowns amidst so much criticism and negative comments from the media regarding her relationship, but Matt is right by her side to bring her back to the surface and surround her in a lavender haze.

Warning: Mentions of hate, slightly angst.

Requested?: No.

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

A/N²: This fic was written for the Challenge for the writers 2024 made by @annamcdonalds67

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Staring at the ceiling with you

Oh, you don't ever say too much

Y/N lay down next to Matt on the double bed that decorated the room. The soft gloom emanated from the corner lamp, painting the scene with orange tones. Their intertwined fingers on the mattress formed a comforting bond, a silent affirmation of each other's presence there. Together, they observed the ceiling as if they were tracing constellations on the white paint in their minds.

The silence that surrounded them was serene, and their synchronized breathing seemed to compose a soft song. Matt knew that sometimes words were unnecessary. There was no need to try to force empty conversations when each other's presence was enough.

Y/N's thoughts, however, were a whirlwind. The sudden exposure that accompanied her relationship with Matt - which they just had revealed to the public some months before - had left her overwhelmed, despite her boyfriend's advance warnings about what followed him with his career. As someone who preferred a low-key life, being dragged into the spotlight of fame was suddenly a big experience.

While her body was physically in the room, her mind felt the weight of these thoughts slowly crushing her. It was an internal battle to maintain sanity amid the media storm that surrounded them.

And you don't really read into

My melancholia

Matt, on his side, noticed the melancholy in Y/N's eyes and the way her brow was constantly frowning, but he respected her silence. He understood the pressure she faced; the crazed fans who used her words against herself and criticized every second of the videos she made a little appearance or was only mentioned, and his heart burned to be able to help her more, but he knew that trying to interpret her thoughts could only increase her distress, his own mind bringing him the mere memory of the episode from some night's before.

To the soft sound of popcorn crackling in the kitchen next door, Y/N anxiously waited for Matt on the made bed, wrapped in the comfort of the fluffy comforter. Her phone rested in her hands, and she slid her fingers across the screen to access her Instagram feed. A notification caught her attention, a tag on a photo posted by the boy.

With an anticipated smile, Y/N opened the post and found herself among the images of a photo dump posted a few hours ago. Her heart filled with warmth when she saw the picture of them together, the girl didn't know how to explain what she felt when she saw him post so openly about them, having gone through difficult situations in this regard in her previous relationship.

However, her smile faded when she swiped down and was met with an avalanche of comments. Thousands of cruel words and cutting criticisms flooded the massive list. Comments that questioned who she thought she was, insinuations that she wasn't good enough, and that Matt deserved someone better. Every word was a blow to her heart, a confirmation of all the fears and insecurities she had kept hidden inside.

Feeling crushed by the virtual pressure, a wave of anguish enveloped her. Tears began to blur her vision as she struggled to contain her overflowing emotions, not wanting to appear vulnerable in the situation, much less worry Matt.

Her head filled with questions, how could she compete with the unrealistic expectations of those who observed her life through a screen?

Minutes passed in a second for her, the sound of the door opening again echoed softly, Matt's figure entering the room following it, the tempting smell of popcorn floating in the air and a childish smile decorating his face. His smile fell instantly when he saw Y/N holding the phone tightly with one of her hands, tears rolling down her face while her other hand pressed her mouth, forcing away the sobs.

"Hey, hey, babe, what happened?" Matt ran over to her, his tone full of worry, leaving the bucket of popcorn on the bedside table and kneeling next to her on the bed.

Y/N sobs as she tries to explain, showing him the cruel comments that filled her entire screen, the device shaking slightly as a result of her trembling fingers.

Matt felt his heart break when he saw the suffering on Y/N's face and the ridiculous words in front of him. Him mind was divided between helping her or posting something obscene, full of insults, and totally guided from his emotional side.

The boy sighs, closing his eyes and wishing to take the bad things away from his girl before sitting properly next to her, wrapping her in his arms affectionately and bringing her head to his chest, sealing her hair line for long seconds.

"I'm so sorry, petal. I didn't know this was going to happen. I should have thought before posting..." He murmured, gently stroking her back as Y/N clings to him for comfort. "I'll figure it out, I promise."

I been under scrutiny (yeah, oh, yeah)

You handle it beautifully (yeah, oh, yeah)

All this shit is new to me (yeah, oh, yeah)

With that, it was known that Y/N was constantly under the relentless eyes of the fandom and obsessed fanpages, her every move being dissected and analyzed minutely by the voracious eyes of anonymous people. But that was the price to pay for dating a public figure.

While facing this incessant storm of unsolicited attention, she couldn't help but admire how Matt, despite his issues with anxiety and certain unnecessary comments left by people who called themselves fans, handled the problems of notoriety with admirable patience and calm.

He seemed so comfortable on camera alongside his brothers, so skilled at ignoring invasive situations that Y/N often found herself questioning how he did it. However, for her, this was all unfamiliar and intimidating territory, too new.

Although she passionately wanted to quickly adapt to this new lifestyle, as she had no plans to leave Matt, she also found herself racing toward an uncertain direction, trying to keep her sanity and identity intact amid the media chaos that surrounded her.

The couch enveloped them in a comfortable embrace as Y/N and Matt enjoyed the peace of the silent living room, the soft sound of a Disney movie echoing in the background. Matt's arms around Y/N were a sanctuary of calm, warming her body and bringing her a comfort that made her feel like she could sleep any moment. It was one of those rare moments when they could simply exist t the interference of the fast-paced world around them.

Matt, with a sigh of contentment, reached for his phone, curious to see how the car video they had posted a few minutes ago was doing, eager to see what the fans thought of the themes brought up.

Quickly, he opened the YouTube app and scrolled through the comments. Among a flood of compliments and kind words, however, some less favorable comments caught his attention. Some criticized the way he was quieter than usual, while others questioned why he was even part of the videos, as he had nothing to add.

Matt rolled his eyes in a dismissive gesture as he turned the screen of his phone towards Y/N, allowing her to read the comments that filled the space.

"Look at that." Matt said, exasperated. "These people have nothing better to do than criticize anything and everything. Immature teenagers who love to point out only negative things." He muttered, shaking his head in disbelief.

Locking the screen of his phone with a brusque gesture, he left it aside on the couch, refusing to let the negative comments ruin his moment of peace. The boy turned to Y/N again, his smile returning as if nothing had happened and wrapping his arms around her once more.

"Sorry about that, pretty girl." The brunette asked softly against her skin, burying his face in the curve of her shoulder. "Sometimes people just need to spread negativity to feel better about themselves. But let's not let that get to us, hm?" He lifted his head from where it was, smiling small at his girl before pressing small seals on the exposed skin of her shoulders and neck, eliciting loud laughter from the girl.

[...] All they keep asking me (all they keep asking me)

Is if I'm gonna be your bride

The only kind of girl they see (the only kind of girl they see)

Is a one-night or a wife

Post after post from the significant number of fans who adored them together claimed that they were "endgame", as they had been in a relationship for over a year and seemed to be going strong.

But the comments that followed were always like a punch to the gut for Y/N. Some argued that she was Matt's future bride, while others insinuated that she was just a "gold digger", there to take advantage of his fame and money, like a one night stand, before eventually leaving him.

Y/N's feelings fluctuated between anger and sadness. How dare they question her true feelings for Matt? How could they judge their relationship based on unfounded assumptions and speculation? They were only 20 years old, marriage was out of the question at that moment, and they both knew that this kind of thing is something planned and thought out together, never done for the emotion of the moment or to meet the needs of others.

A feeling of helplessness invaded her when she read those things, accompanied by a hint of doubt. Y/N felt deep pain due to the lack of trust and support from Matt's own fans. She had tried so hard to be a positive presence in his life, to love and support him unconditionally, and to make the people who meant the most to him and who brought him to the top really like her.

And now, she was faced with the cruelty of strangers who were ready to judge her without even truly knowing her.

I find it dizzying (yeah, oh, yeah)

They're bringing up my history (yeah, oh, yeah)

But you weren't even listening (yeah, oh, yeah)

Y/N felt constantly dizzy with everything that was happening around her. It was as if she was in the eye of a media hurricane, where waves of curiosity and intrusion were endlessly engulfing her. Even with her social networks private, she found herself inundated by a flood of fanatical fans, eager to discover even the smallest detail of her life.

The triplets' YouTube videos, in which she participated, were constant targets of investigation by fans. Every word, every gesture captured by the camera, was analyzed. And the boys' posts, where she occasionally appeared, were scoured thoroughly for any hint of her personal life.

The simple act of even appearing on a TikTok for a brief second was enough to trigger a new wave of speculation and conspiracy theories from fans. Y/N felt like she was looking over her shoulder every moment.

This growing fear began to affect her willingness to participate in the brothers' videos and appear on their social media. She retreated into the shadows, avoiding the curious eyes that surrounded her.

Meanwhile, Matt scrolled through his social media feed, the cruel and mean comments about Y/N flashed on his phone screen at every moment. "She only wants to hurt him", "She's only with him for the money", "She will run away at the first opportunity". The words penetrated like sharp knives, but he faced them with a calm expression.

He could feel the anger pulsing through his veins. The injustice of these accusations made him want to scream. But he forced himself to remain calm, to take a deep breath and remember what really mattered.

Matt knew Y/N better than he knew himself. He knew she wasn't a gold digger, that she wasn't with him out of interest or for any petty reason. He knew that she genuinely loved him, that they shared the same dreams and fears, joys, and sadness.

So he ignored the negative comments, the people who hid behind anonymous profiles to spread venom and hate. Sometimes, he even had the small pleasure of responding to these accusations with an ironic comment or a joke, knowing that, deep down, none of it mattered.

Because he trusted Y/N. He loved her more than anything in the world, and nothing could shake that unshakable trust he had in her.

[...] Talk your talk and go viral (oh, oh, oh)

I just need this love spiral (oh, oh, oh)

Get it off your chest (woah, woah, woah, woah)

Get it off my desk (get it off my desk)

Talk your talk and go viral (oh, oh, oh)

I just need this love spiral (oh, oh, oh)

Get it off your chest

Get it off my desk

But on the other side, the moments of exhaustion seemed to multiply for Y/N, like a lingering shadow that followed her with every step. Increasingly, she found herself sinking into a sea of cruel comments and venomous speculation from the media and fans.

Until a specific moment, where she finally understood that with Matt, she found the strength to fight it gradually. His arms wrapped around her with comforting warmth. His words of encouragement were like a balm to her soul. He supported her in every way possible, constantly reminding her of how much she was loved and valued and that nothing they said mattered.

Y/N slowly learned to filter the noise of the outside world, to block out the negative voices that tried to invade her mind. She no longer allowed the mean comments to get to her, choosing to ignore, block or mute them, allowing them to get everything they wanted off their chest and go viral using her name, and not giving a damn about it.

It was a gradual process, a journey of self-discovery and self-transformation. Y/N still had her moments of weakness, her doubts and fears, like in that moment. But with Matt by her side, she was able to cover her ears and eyes to them.

I feel the lavender haze creeping up on me

Surreal

I'm damned if I do give a damn what people say

No deal

The 1950s shit they want from me

I just wanna stay in that lavender haze

And despite all the bad things, being alone at that moment with Matt in their own haven was comforting. A lavender haze enveloped Y/N gently, like a warm lilac hug amidst the darkness of uncertainty, protecting her from external judgments.

In the comfort of their room, with Matt's presence beside her, she felt as if she could close her eyes and simply let herself be carried away by the constant flow of love she felt for the boy.

Despite the whirlwind of thoughts that danced in her mind along with vague memories of all the futile posts from pages that gossip about artists, demanding surreal things from her as if they had just come out of a time machine to the past, there, in that moment, she allowed herself to sink into the depths of this good feeling.

Matt's presence by her side was like a protective shield, pushing away all her fears and insecurities. His eyes, full of tenderness and understanding, met hers from time to time, conveying a silent message that he was there, ready to face any challenge alongside her. And there was nothing in the world that made him want to leave there.

With one smooth movement, Matt turned briefly to reach for the lavender air freshener that rested on the nightstand next to the bed. He activates the device with a delicate touch, releasing a fragrant mist that fills the room with the sweet scent of the flower. The soft, comforting scent envelops Y/N like a hug, calming her agitated mind and bringing an almost instantaneous feeling of serenity.

The mattress moved with Matt's movements, and he slowly turned around, now lying on his side and facing Y/N. His eyes met hers lovingly, and a smile played on his lips as he moved closer until their bodies were mere inches away.

"You still with me, sweetheart?" His voice was as soft as the cotton beneath their bodies, echoing off the walls that were surrounded by silence for long minutes.

"Uhm." Y/N murmured back, imitating him and turning so that she was lying on her side, facing him, the fog in her mind slowly dissipating.

With soft and delicate movements, Matt wrapped the girl in his arms, bringing her closer to his body, laying her head on his chest, the steady beat of his heart calming hers almost automatically.

"They don't matter, you know?"

Y/N felt a comforting warmth spread throughout her entire being upon hearing the brief and almost insignificant words, but that meant the world to her. She snuggled even closer to Matt, feeling his arms tighten around her waist where they held, allowing herself to sink into them like a safe haven from the storms of the outside world.

Matt lowered his head and gently kissed the top of his girl's head, breathing in the soft scent of lavender shampoo that emanated from her strands. Every touch was filled with love and devotion, a silent promise that he was there.

And so, cradled by the soft haze of love that surrounded them, Y/N and Matt surrendered to the present moment, the girl leaving behind all the worries and fears that haunted her, her heart begging to stay there forever.

I just wanna stay in that lavender haze

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

My asks are always open. My requests are closed at the moment since I have many to work in, but you can always send questions or simply talk to me 🩷💋

And remember to treat people with kindness always!

I don't know if I liked it very much, so I'm sorry if it sucked badly 😭😭🙏🏻🙏🏻

~ taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturnizd @hearts4chris @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @leah-loves-lilies @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @sturniolho @ksskianshd @ccolleenn @sturniolo-lover1317 @soimightlikeoldmen69 @hrtyjy @ldr-sl0t @breeloveschris @its-jennarose @sainzzsturns @ecliphttlunar @thebottledwatersupplier @bellasfavbisexual @soso-scarlettolivia @maryx2xx @sturnolio-luvs @bitchydragonparadise @lvrsturn @iammattswife

(If you want to be added to the taglist, please comment here)

483 notes · View notes

moon-rivr · 4 months

Text

still beating

pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader

contents: cheating, pregnancy, mention of abortion, brief mention of sex, asshole mig, and angst

author’s note: i had the urge to write some angst but i’ll be getting back to requests after this one. idk if i wanna make a second part yet 😭

word count: 4.1K

You felt your heart wrench in your chest, the pieces slowly starting to shatter when you opened the door to see Miguel with another woman in your bed. The container of cookies that you'd been planning on surprising him with fell to the floor, crumbs clattering all over the floor beneath your feet. All you could do was just stare in horror as the man who claimed he loved you thrusted into another woman with a newfound vigor that he never seemed to have with you.

You looked over at the woman bouncing on his cock like there's no tomorrow, your eyes widening at the realization of who she was. She was one of the recruits who'd been too flirty with your man, batting her lashes and trailing her hand up his arm every time he was in her vicinity. You'd expressed your concerns to him, getting pushed away with a laugh and a kiss on the cheek. "Come on, she's just an apprentice. Tu sabes que nomas tengo ojos para ti," he used to tell you and you willingly believed the words. (you know i only have eyes for you)

The first time that you noticed him acting weirdly was in a mission against one of the vulture variants, taking the extra time to make sure that she was doing okay. He'd helped her in a way that he'd never helped other recruits, not even you when you were starting out. He spoke to her in a reassuring manner, assuring her that the fate of the multiverse didn't lie solely on her mistakes. It was a clear contrast from the way that he used to teach you, telling you that your mistakes could cost the lives of thousands and even ruin the delicate equilibrium between the universes. You wanted to assure yourself that you were being jealous just because of the way that you acquired a relationship with him, but you couldn't help but notice the longing glances that she gave him.

"Miguel, I don't trust that recruit. She looks at you like a love sick puppy," you told him, hoping that he would take your feelings into consideration and create some distance between them. “You're overreacting, mi amor. You know that there's nobody that could make me feel the same way that you did. I even left my ex-girlfriend for you, so why do you think that I would give that up?" He responded, holding your chin in his grasp as he gave you a kiss on the cheek. "Are you even listening to me? I’m not saying that i'm worried about you, I'm just worried about the way that she keeps looking at you," you tried to elaborate but he simply ordered you to get back to work.

You could see the way that she dumbed herself down to receive more help from Miguel, shooting a wink in your direction every time that she managed to pry him away from you. You felt powerless, unable to prove the fact that the woman was obviously feeling an amount of attraction towards Miguel. Even if you could prove it, you weren't too sure that he would even care about how you felt towards the situation. So you simply pushed every red flag that came your way, silently hoping that she wouldn't be stupid to try anything with him. You could see the carefully crafted walls he'd built around himself crumbling with every giggle that came out of her mouth, your hopes only slowing down what seemed to be the inevitable.

The conversation of cheating had come up once between your friend group, and in between laughter, you stated that you would simply beat both his and her ass for even thinking about doing that. All you could do now though, was stare in horror as the woman's walls clenched around your boyfriend every time that she moved up and down his cock. "Are you gonna stare or are you gonna join us?" The high pitched moan of the girl and Miguel's words snapped you from your thoughts, your face void from any expression. While you were planning on taking your misery out on a pint of Ben and Jerry's ice cream later on, you refused to let them see how much it affected you.

"Why would you do this to me?" You asked him, completely dumbfounded at the events taking place. You hated the way that your voice sounded, so small and broken, expecting yourself to let your anger seep through with every word uttered. "You led me to this situation. Been denying me for so long that I had to take manners into my own hands," he responded, his thrusts halting to a stop once he took the chance to look at you. You let out a small scoff, surprised by the amount of audacity he held despite the fact he'd just been caught having an indiscretion. "I led you to this? You cannot be serious right now."

He tapped the woman's leg, getting her off him as she reached over to cover herself with no shame in her expression. "Look baby, I can forgive you denying me the opportunity to have sex with you if you're willing to forget about this little.. incident," he told you, standing up and taking your chin so you'd look up at him. You couldn't help it though, the moment that you looked into his eyes, you no longer saw the man that you'd once fallen in love with but instead the expression of pleasure that was contorted on his face when you stepped in. "Forgive me? Did you hit your head standing up? I don't want anything to do with you."

"I was the best thing that ever happened to you, don't delude yourself into thinking otherwise. Give it a second thought, nena. You know you can't find someone like me anymore," you heard behind you while your hand lingered on the doorknob, about to exit the scene. "Think about it clearly. Who do you think is going to love you the same way that I did?" He added salt to the injury, painting you as someone unlovable. "Now you're being the delusional one for thinking that I want to find someone like you ever again," you responded, shutting the door with more force than necessary on your way out. You heard a loud groan behind you, the scuffling sounds of clothes being tossed around.

A part of you selfishly longed that he would come chase after you, get on his knees and beg for your forgiveness so you waited outside to see if the door would open. You weren't sure if you were expecting an apology for being taken like a fool or for the act that had taken place, but that didn't stop you from wanting him to tell you that he was sorry. The door remained locked, the volume of the moans rising in intensity like they knew you were still out there. Rain started to pour but as much as you wanted to move, your feet remained stuck in the ground like cement. You just wanted him to say the words 'I'm sorry' but the only thing that you received standing there was hearing him say, "Ay Dios, such a good pussy. Unlike anything I've had before."

Only when you were across the street from his house is that you allowed yourself the opportunity to cry, for everything that you longed for and would never obtain again. You couldn't help but blame yourself the slightest bit, for wanting to trust the words of a renowned cheater so badly. Even though your relationship with him essentially started the same way, going from being a fresh recruit at the spider society to snaking your way under Miguel's bedsheets every time you got the chance. The excitement of getting caught by his girlfriend at the time was too much for you to want to stop the affair the two of you were in, and you couldn't help but fall in love with him with every caress and whisper he shared with you.

You wanted to believe so badly that he was right, that you weren't anything like any of his previous girlfriends and that you were something special to him. It was one of the reasons that you forced yourself to be that exciting new prospect for miguel, pushing yourself past your limits just for the sake of keeping him interested in you. And now you had nothing to prove for the fact that you'd been with him apart from the pregnancy test in the pocket of your hoodie. You'd gone over to his place to tell him that you were pregnant, the frosting on the cookies that you were wielding spelling out the words.

As you got back home, you couldn't help the thoughts that were tormenting your brain since you'd left. You started doing a re-run of the relationship that you had with Miguel, starting to wonder where it was that it all went wrong. What he said was true, you had been denying him sex for a while now but you'd been so tired coming back from missions lately. There'd been a surplus of anomalies to deal with, the numbers only starting to decrease today. You'd hoped that he would be understanding since he was the one who was assigning these missions, but the hope was short lived.

You tried to think about the events that led up to this, trying to look at things from a normal perspective rather than the rose-colored perspective you were happily living in. You noticed him acting a bit strangely, but you'd dismissed it due to him being stressed with the vast quantities of anomalies that he had to deal with. You remembered offering him a blowjob a week ago while on a phone call, wanting to spend some time with him at his office before the two of you got too busy. He'd rejected your offer, light giggles coming from the distance. You realized that they were having fun at your expense, having gone through with the affair at least for a week now.

Entering your apartment felt like a stab in your heart since you'd lit up a candle that he'd taken a liking to before you left, the lingering aroma only providing you with memories of the relationship. Your sheets still weirdly smelled like remnants of his cologne, the smell of his shampoo lingering onto the pillow next to yours. As much as you tried not to think about him too much, every single thing in your apartment only reminded you and the relationship. Even the clothes in your closet were mixed around with his, the scent of his body wash from when he'd stayed over sticking to your clothes.

Showing up to work the next day felt more of an obligation that something that you used to look forward to, stares from your fellow spiders following you throughout the building. You'd done your best to ignore them when you were starting out with Miguel, ignoring their glares and their whispered voices as they called you a 'homewrecker.' Now that you didn't have Miguel's reassuring presence, you were solely depending on your ability to be able to ignore them. They all stared at you the same way that you felt, like a toy that had just finished fulfilling its use and was now tossed off to the side.

You weren't sure if it was the morning sickness or the fact that the recruit had her hand wrapped around Miguel's arm as he started to give the report on what to do today but just the mere sight of it had you wanting to throw up. Your eyes locked with Miguel, a small flash of guilt appearing on his features before his face contorted back to its normal state. You almost wanted to roll your eyes as the recruit batted her lashes up at him, staring at him like he held all the answers but you were pretty certain that you used to look at him the same way. Some of the other spider recruits turned to look at you at the sight and you could only wish that the earth would swallow you alive.

Coming back from your mission didn't provide you with the comfort that you'd needed, your forehead bleeding from a small gash that you'd gotten fighting. You'd been so focused on other aspects of your life to notice the piece of rubble that was aimed straight for your head. Luckily enough, one of the many Peters was present to warn you about it and the piece only managed to scratch you up slightly. You sat down at the nurse's table, noticing her eyes widen slightly at the sight of you but she quickly suppressed the surprise on her face. She applied some alcohol on the wound and cleaned it up, trusting your healing to do the rest.

You walked down the halls of the society to go to the cafeteria, having a bit of a craving for a burger. Seeing Miguel walking on the other side of the hall made you hold a breath, your footsteps getting faster. You figured that you were getting these dirty looks because they wouldn't dare do to that their boss, but the admiration on the rest of the spiders' face was starting to get ridiculous. "Miguellll, hi baby!" The woman from earlier announced, slotting herself next to him. You felt tears starting to sting when you saw him wrap his arm around her shoulders, holding her close the same way that he used to do to you.

The thoughts of having an abortion circulated through your brain while you sat alone, angrily biting into the burger with Miguel's face on it. While you doubted the ability of actually being able to go through this pregnancy by yourself, the thought of getting rid of the fetus just seemed too drastic to actually go through. Or at least, that was what you established as the main reason behind continuing with the pregnancy. The truth was, that despite everything that Miguel had done to you, you couldn't help but want a small piece of him with you. The idea of even having the slightest bit of him reflected on the baby was just enough for you to push those thoughts away.

You felt dirty sitting down on the floors of the bathroom, your head buried into your hands as you stifled the sobs threatening to come out through your throat. You looked up when someone knocked on the door, wiping away the tears dripping down your cheeks as you stood up. “I didn't mean to disturb but I was just wondering if you were okay," Gwen told you, standing there awkwardly with her hands in her pocket. You'd never focused too much on trying to build a relationship with any of your co-workers, stuck in the belief that you didn't care what anyone thought about you as long as you had Miguel so you appreciated the bit of kindness that she had to share.

"Not really," you offered, wiping your face so as to not appear too disheveled in front of her. "Would you like to talk about it?" She then asked you, looking a bit uncomfortable to be stuck playing therapist. Lucky for her, you didn't feel like explaining that the reason that you felt so upset was that your boyfriend had cheated on you. "Not really," you repeated, rubbing the back of your head awkwardly as another Spider-Woman came into the bathroom. You'd expected Gwen to walk off after that but the girl simply looked at you with understanding, realizing that you couldn't put the way that you were feeling into words yet. "Me and Hobie were actually about to go practice guitar for a little while, but there's a drum kit if you want to try that out."

Hitting a drum until most of your frustrations faded away seemed like a healthier coping mechanism than your usual ones, so you agreed and went with Gwen into her dimension. Gwen and Hobie had left to a secluded area to practice their guitar in peace, leaving you alone with your thoughts and sticks in your hands. While the sounds that were being elicited by your fury weren't exactly melodic, the drum certainly provided you with a feeling of peace with every smack that you took. The sounds of the strings of the guitar melted in with the off pitch sound of the drums, the sound of chaos weirdly providing you with the relief that you needed.

You'd been hitting the drums for what seemed to be forever, losing yourself into the adrenaline that was coursing through your veins when Gwen stepped in through the door. "Sorry to disturb your sesh, it seemed like you were really getting it on in there but we have to head back. Something about a mission, you okay to get back on your own?" Gwen asked you, standing by the doorframe as she peeked her head into the room. "I think I'll stay for a little while, but thank you for offering. I appreciate you for letting me crash here," you responded, stopping so she could hear you properly. After a couple minutes that Gwen had left, you departed as well since you'd felt that you'd gotten the relief that you needed.

You tried your best to get yourself to hate him, burning his clothes and ripping every photograph of the two of you but no matter how much you tried, you couldn't get yourself to hate him. It'd be easier for yourself if you could, because hating him seemed like the better alternative than loving him to the point it was starting to hurt you. But the truth was, that even if you could've predicted what happened between the both of you, you're not too sure that you would do anything different regardless. While you despised feeling like a discarded piece of trash, the amount of happiness that he provided you for the time he did was too euphoric for you to give up.

You were planning on just to relax after finishing up with the task of getting rid of his stuff, a knock on your door putting all your plan to a halt. You opened the door to see Miguel standing there, his arms folded across his chest with an uncomfortable expression. "Come in," you mumbled, stepping back and opening the door wider so he could come in. You figured that you were at least due for an explanation so you were willing to open the door just to get the closure that your poor heart needed. He came into the house, maneuvering his way the same way he used to do. You stood at the door in a bit of shock, closing the door and standing at a distance from him.

"I wanted to come here and apologize to you. I shouldn't have cheated on you and i'm deeply sorry for any hurt that I might've caused you," he spoke up after a couple seconds, his apology sounding like something rehearsed. You stayed quiet, gesturing for him to continue as you let the words seep in. "And for the way that I talked to you, it wasn't right of me to disrespect you. I don't know what you want me to say though, you knew that I was a cheater when I first met you and even if I wanted to stop, I can't," he added, his figure looming over yours in the small apartment. You couldn't help the small scoff that escaped from your throat once he finished talking.

"You couldn't stop your cheating tendencies just because you're wired that way, are you serious?" You asked him, your voice slightly raising as you walked closer. "I should've known that chasing a relationship with you would've ended the same way as always and I'm sorry. You were always too good to me," he responded, looking everywhere in the room except for your face. "No, you don't get to do this. You don't get to come into my house and paint yourself as the victim. Take some accountability for once in your damn life!" You screamed at him, unable to keep the rage brewing inside of you at bay.

"Fine, you want me to take accountability? The truth is that I got bored. I got bored in the same monotony that we were living in and I sought out for that type of excitement that you'd given me when we started out. There was nothing wrong with you, nothing wrong with you denying me sex either. It was just me needing to do something stupid and reckless," he spoke up after a while, finally looking at you in the eye. You let out a small sigh of relief, finding some solace in the fact that he was finally being honest with you without using any manipulation tactics. "You could've communicated that with me, y'know? We could've worked something out."

Miguel took a deep breath, almost like he hadn't given any thought to the alternative solutions available. "I took the easy out and I'm sorry for that. I also wanted to detach myself from you, I didn't want any interference in what your canon event would be," he added, making you lose all hope for the progress that the two of you had made so far. You knew how much he prioritized the maintaining of the canon, but you weren't expecting for him to use it to justify his cheating. "You can't be serious right now. I don't want you to excuse your cheating. I just want you to give me an explanation," you told him, speaking much quieter than last time.

"There is no other explanation apart from the fact that I was just simply bored and she provided me with the relief that I was seeking. Truth is, I can't even stand her that much. If I could've guessed that it would hurt you this badly, I wouldn't have bothered to do it," he played with his hands as he spoke, seemingly nervous. "Guess it was my form of karma," you muttered, a dry chuckle eliciting from your throat as you looked away. "Mira, I know that nothing I do is going to remove the fact that I cheated on you. But I do want you to give me another chance, please. I promise that we could make this work this time, I promise that if I try hard enough I could fall in love with you again," he told you, the words making your eyes widen.

It felt futile trying to deny yourself that Miguel had given you a new experience to relationships, allowing you to lose yourself in him and the time that you spent together. But the more that you thought about it, the more that you realized that you couldn't go back to him no matter how much you wanted to. You craved the intimacy that he once had given you, but even as you looked at him now, you couldn't stop picturing the woman that'd been on top of him just a couple days prior. The decision wasn't made for your sake, more so for the sake of the way that this turbulent relationship would affect the unborn child.

"I never had to try to love you, Miguel," you simply told him, your heart shattering even more with every second that passed. "I'm sorry but I can't do that. I’ll always appreciate everything that you showed me and everything that you did for me, and I'll always love you at some degree even if I try not to. But I can't be in a relationship with you now," you added, seeing his expression darken a bit at being rejected. "I'm not asking for you to be in a relationship with you, but I am asking you to give you a chance. Please, te lo suplico," he told you, getting on his knees as he held your hands in between his. (i beg of you) He leaned in his head towards your stomach, looking at you with such a vulnerability in his eyes. It took you a lot of self-restraint to be able to deny him, especially when he put himself in this position. "Please just go."

After he left your apartment, you felt a sort of weight lift up from your shoulders at the relief that things had gone moderately well between the two of you given the circumstances. As much as you wanted to get back into the dating world to help you get over the love that remained for Miguel, you knew deep down that you would only be dating solely to replicate the feelings that you experienced with him. The fact that he told you that he could love you if he tried hard enough stuck with you, your hands gripping around the teddy bear you were holding with more force. But despite the short lived anger that you'd felt towards him, you felt some peace knowing his reasoning for the indiscretion wasn’t out of spite for you.

1K notes · View notes

reidmotif · 9 months

Text

Double-Booked for the Night

Summary: Reader and Spencer have been double-booked by JJ for a night of babysitting. What happens when the situation brings out some buried feelings from both parties?

Prompt: JJ accidentally double booked a babysitter for Henry. You both end up staying, and after watching the kids all night, he can't help but want you.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut/Fluff

Content Warning: Spencer POV, coworkers to lovers, oral sex (f receiving), dirty talk, he picks her up, heavy making-out, unprotected sex, shades of breeding

Word Count: 7.7k

In my time at the BAU, I had grown accustomed to the many changes it had brought to my life. I’d been made part of a world where long hours, serial killers, and few hours of sleep were the standard, and despite what anyone had to say about it, I had yet to truly hate my job. There were times where I couldn’t fathom that this was my life, that I was being made to peer into the minds of prolific serial killers at any given day, and expected to come out fine after, but for every negative this job brought, there was always one overwhelming positive.

My team.

If you got me tipsy enough, though, I’d probably end up babbling about the girl I’d come to know in the years I’d been here. (Y/N).

If you got me a little drunker, I’d probably end up whining about how in the aforementioned years I’d been here, we’d never made a move on each other, despite the obvious chemistry. Part of me just wanted to mitigate the tension that had been building for ages, pull her into some darkened hallway and kiss her senseless. Unfortunately, I was aware of the consequences that would come from acting so rashly, and so for both our sakes, I held back.

Thankfully, there were a thousand things to distract me from my crush on the agent, and one of those things was JJ’s adorable son. Apart from being his godfather, my known lack of a relationship among the team caused me to become the resident babysitter for the Jareau-LaMontagne household.

It was always wonderful to lend a helping hand to one of my closest friends at the BAU, and let her and her husband get out of the house once in a while, but it was even more of an added bonus that Henry was absolutely adorable, and had honestly stolen my heart. I’d make my way to JJ and Will’s house, opening the door to be greeted by the blonde boy, who was always equally as excited to see me. I’d grown fond of him, and genuinely looked forward to whatever time we’d end up spending together.

Which is why, when I’d come around to JJ’s house on a Friday night at her request, it was a little staggering to not see a head of blonde hair running to cling to my legs, but rather the coworker that had been plaguing my thoughts everyday for nearly three years at that point. It took me a second to focus on the actual situation at hand, as I was momentarily stunned into silence over how she appeared before me. She looked so casual, her hair loosely strung about, with a big hoodie and yoga pants enveloping her figure. She looked cozy, and warm- a noticeable change from the professional work attire I’d become accustomed to seeing her in. It was nice. And it briefly stopped my brain for a second. It took me about five seconds before I remembered where I was, meeting her confused expression with mine.

“(Y/N)?” I started. “What are you doing here?” I watched her keep the door open, whilst I raised my own eyebrow.

“Babysitting for Henry, what are you..?” She replied, knitting her brows a bit.

“Babysitting for Henry.” I responded, a little incredulously.

“But JJ asked me..?” She started, when I interrupted her.

“Will asked me.” I said, and she nodded knowingly, realizing what had happened.

“They double booked us.” She said, with a chuckle.

God, she was so beautiful when she laughed like that.

“Yeah, they did, didn’t they?” I say, rubbing the back of my neck, a little self consciously with a stupid smile plastered on my face.

I couldn’t help but watch the little crinkle that formed at the sides of her eyes as she smiled affectionately at my remark. She had this way of making my insides turn to goo with a simple look, and at this moment, that was exactly how I was feeling. The way my body reacted to her came about naturally, and it was almost impossible to keep under wraps, even in moments like this. She gave me an adorable grin, laughing with me about the absurdity of the situation.

“I guess I’ll.. go then.” I say with a chuckle, looking down at her. “JJ and Will only need one babysitter, and you’re already here..” I reason, gesturing to her standing at the door.

“Yeah, I.. suppose you’re right.” She says, giving me another one of her small smiles.

“I’ll see you at work then?” I say, a little awkwardly. Her hands twitched as they approached the doorknob, and I could feel it again. The absolute strain that seemed to reside between us. The manner in which her gaze connected with mine. The way she seemed to linger a little too close to me instead of the handle of the door. It was so obvious we were denying what we wanted from each other, and it felt so ridiculous. I could feel myself letting out a breath, stepping away before I did anything stupid, until I heard a barreling of little steps hurtling towards me.

“Uncle Spencer!” Henry cried, pushing past (Y/N), who nearly toppled over as the boy sprang at my legs. I steadied myself by grabbing onto the frame on the door, my smile returning as I reached down to hug him.

“Hey! Henry.” I say, ruffling the boy’s hair affectionately and bending down to meet his eye-level. “How are you doing?”

“Auntie (Y/N) was about to put on a movie for us.” Henry says, smiling brightly and already attempting to tug me into the house. “Come watch!”

“Aww, Henry.” I say, giving him a little frown. “I can’t, I’m sorry though.” I say, gently. “You should watch with Auntie (Y/N) though!” I say, smiling and looking up at her from my place on the floor. My gaze softened a bit as I noticed the unmistakable trace of blush on her cheeks, but my attention was quickly turned back to Henry, feeling another tug from him.

“You don’t wanna watch with us?” He says, with the biggest puppy-dog eyes I’d ever seen.

“Henry..” I start with an apologetic tone, about to explain that I really couldn’t impose, even if deep down, I secretly wanted to, if not to spend time with him, but her.

“You can stay, you know?” She interjects from above us, and I look up at her, displaying my confused smile.

“Really?” I say, raising my eyebrows at her, as I stood back up to face her. “You’d be okay with that?” I say, still keeping my eyes locked on hers.

“I mean, I don’t think I’d not take up the offer of more help with him.” She says, chuckling a bit as she crossed her arms and leaned up against the door frame.

I looked at Henry once more, grinning. I asked him, “Would you be okay with that, buddy?”

Henry nodded excitedly, already pulling me into the house with his little hands. “Auntie (Y/N) put on a movie for me.” He continued adorably, a bounce in his step as he guided me to the couch.

I smiled at Henry as he led me to the living room, some children’s movie I didn’t recognize playing on the screen. I could hear (Y/N) following us after closing the front door and as I sat down, she smiled at me again.

“It’s actually kind of a miracle you showed up when you did.” She says to me, a light giggle escaping from her lips. “I had no idea how I was going to get dinner out and watch him at the same time.” She explained, as Henry made his way next to me, getting comfortable.

“Ah, you know.” I say, shrugging and laughing nonchalantly, opening my arms to allow Henry to lean against me. “Always happy to help. Especially if it involves this little guy.” I ruffled his hair and heard a little chuckle against me from the boy, as I kept my eyes on her, flashing her a soft smile.

Henry grinned at that, as he excitedly started talking about the movie that was playing, wildly gesticulating as he attempted to explain what I’d missed since I’d entered the room. I nodded, but out of the corner of my eye I saw (Y/N) enter the kitchen, presumably to prepare Henry’s dinner. I heard and saw her rustling about the kitchen in small flashes, and a small smile graced my face at the sight of her. It was silly, but I rarely got to see this side of her. She looked so calm and laid-back, and it was a welcomed change, one that brought a certain warmth to my chest just from the look of it.

I watched her for a few more moments, before turning my full attention back to Henry. I listened to him, nodding like I totally understood everything he was saying, even if he was talking fifty words a minute and stumbling over his speech every step of the way. Regardless, I loved him. Loved spending time with him, and that was only made better when I saw (Y/N) approach us in the living room, plopping down next to Henry with a plate of lasagna.

“Okay, I know Mommy doesn’t usually let you eat in front of the TV.. so this’ll be our secret, okay?” She said, a playful glint in her eye as she carefully handed the plate to Henry. “But you gotta promise me one thing.”

Henry nodded excitedly. She spoke with mock seriousness to him, pursing her lips and nodding. “You gotta promise me you’re gonna finish everything off your plate, alright?” It wasn’t even a question, as Henry nodded, happily agreeing with her, and digging into the food she’d brought. She sat back, looking satisfied with herself. I couldn’t help but smile to myself at the sight. She was always kind at work, and it wasn’t surprising that she was good with kids, but I never expected her to be this good. She fit into the role naturally, and it sent a feeling of endearment through me as I watched her speak to Henry.

Henry ate quietly between the two of us as I watched the TV, but in actuality my mind was completely focused on her. The softness in her actions towards Henry, the tenderness in her eyes as she dealt with him. It was truly having an effect on me, and in a moment of weakness I allowed myself to get wrapped up in a fantasy involving her, me and a child of our own. It was insane! I’d never even kissed the girl before, but watching her like this made me desperately long for a situation in which we had a family together, a concept I had been yearning for privately, only exacerbated by the wonderful woman in front of me.

It seemed I’d gotten a little too lost in my thoughts, because I felt Henry tugging at my shoulder, and I blinked, realizing he’d been trying to get my attention for a few seconds now. “Uncle Spencer!” He whined, and I looked at him with a stir.

“Ah, sorry Henry! Got really into the movie.” I say, feeling my cheeks heat up a bit as I ran my hands through my hair. “What’s up?”

“Can you help me wash my hands?” He asked, in his little voice, and I laughed a little, nodding.

(Y/N) took his plate from him, smiling at me and mouthing a ‘thanks’, which I returned with a smile of my own and thumbs-up, as I took Henry to the bathroom. I led him there, opening the door and watching from the door frame as he stood on the kiddie-stool, washing his hands for the full, recommended twenty seconds. I’d taught him well. When he finished, he wiped his hands on the hand towel and leapt off the stool, running past me. I rolled my eyes fondly, because as usual, Henry had left the bathroom light and door open. I closed both for him, walking to catch up with him, and before I’d even entered the living room, Henry was sitting on the couch, already back to watching the movie that played in front of him.

I came near him, ruffling his hair. “You all good there, bud?” I asked, and Henry nodded absentmindedly, clearly focused on the TV instead of my words, and I chuckled affectionately at his total and complete disinterest in me, now that he could watch TV uninterrupted.

“You okay if I go help out Auntie (Y/N) in the kitchen real quick? I’ll be right here.” I said, reassuringly, but Henry wasn’t even paying attention, so I smiled and walked towards the kitchen, beckoned by the sight of (Y/N) washing Henry’s dinner dish, her sleeves rolled up and her previously open hair now pinned back.

I approached her and leaned against the counter, smiling a little dumbly as I watched her, until she looked up at me, sending me a confused grin. “What are you smiling about, Reid?” She asked, a playful lilt in her voice as she continued scrubbing away at the dishes.

“Ah, nothing.” I responded, but she looked up, rolling her eyes with amusement.

“You know we’re both profilers, right?” She shot back, raising an eyebrow and smirking at me. “I can tell when you’re not exactly being truthful.” She paused, before taking a second to properly look at me. “Come on, spit it out.”

I took a breath, shrugging and turning my body to face her as she kept her gaze trained on me. “It’s really nothing, I just.. I guess I’m surprised by how good you are with kids.” I say, not trying to let on how much tonight had actually affected me in regards to my feelings about her.

She raised her eyebrows, letting a giggle fall from her lips. “What, you think I’d suck with them or something?” She said, biting her lip a bit and I felt my heart turn a bit at that. Even though I was aware she was joking, I felt the overwhelming need to comfort her, to make my intentions more than clear.

“No, no, (Y/N).” I say, shaking my head and chuckling. “I just meant- you’re so thoughtful at work, of course you’d be good with kids. It’s a no-brainer. But I don’t know, seeing it in front of me was just..” I took a breath, smiling. “This may be totally weird to say, but you’d make a great mom.”

I watched her reaction, fearing I’d maybe crossed a line by saying so, but she smiled shyly, purposely keeping her eyes off me as she asked, “Yeah? You think so?”

I kept my eyes on her, adoringly observing her as I nodded. “Yeah, no. I know so.”

I watched her bite her lip as she kept her view away from mine, and even in the dim lighting of the kitchen, I saw a light blush fill her cheeks. She looked up at me, an innocently amused look on her face.

“Thank you, Spencer. That means a lot.” She responds, starting to dry her hands with a dish towel off the side of the sink. As she reached forward, she shifted herself a bit closer to me and I watched as she rubbed off the water droplets on her skin with the fabric. I could physically hear her swallowing as our proximity to each other was brought closer, and I couldn’t help but watch her lips, slightly red and swollen from biting on them all night. It was a habit of hers I’d noticed since we began working, and tonight, it was driving me fucking crazy. I wondered what it’d feel like to have her lips against mine, to run my tongue over the plumpness of them. I imagined pinning her against the counter right here, kissing her until we both forgot our names and lost our breath in each other. I shakily exhaled at the thought, and at that moment, she looked up at me, and seemingly caught me in the act of staring, except she didn’t move away. We exchanged glances for a beat, and I was beginning to contemplate leaning in, repercussions be damned, but in a twisted turn of fate, we heard a little voice calling out to us in the other room.

“Auntie (Y/N)! Uncle Spencer! The movie’s over!” He called out, starting to run into the kitchen with the remote. (Y/N) laughed nervously, moving away from me to pick up Henry in her arms. I stepped away just as fast, going back to leaning on the counter as I watched her cradle the boy in her arms, and I could physically recognize the feeling of affection filling my body as my eyes were fixed on her. If she noticed, she pretended not to, turning her entire focus on the boy.

“You know what that means, right, Henry?” (Y/N) asked, cooing a bit at the boy. “It’s time for bed, alright? Let’s get you upstairs.”

“Can Uncle Spencer come too?” Henry asked, looking at me. The boy was clearly a little more tired now that it was later in the night, but he was quite clear in his demands. Henry then looked at (Y/N), his eyes big and wide. “Did you know Uncle Spencer can read me a whole story without the book?”

(Y/N) only laughed at that, looking between me and the boy. “Can he now? I guess he’s just going to have to join us for bedtime, right?” She looks at me, raising an eyebrow and I nod, beaming a little coyly.

“Eidetic memory, remember?” I say, smirking at her.

She makes an amused sound at that, nodding knowingly. “How could I forget?”

She sighs softly, still supporting Henry in her arms. “Okay, let’s get you to sleep, bud.” She says, kissing the top of his head,, beginning to walk towards the stairs, looking back at me and motioning for me to follow.

I smiled at the gesture, and again, I could sense my heart yearning for a future in which this was our life. It was ridiculous, and yet as the night progressed, my imagination only continued to go wild with the possibilities of a reality where we were each other’s. I continued to walk with her, until we reached Henry’s room, which she slowly turned the knob to. She walked in, keeping the door open for me as I trailed behind her, closing the door. She laid Henry down in the bed, looking at me.

She ran her hands down her thighs, beaming gently at me through the low light of Henry’s bedroom. “I’ll.. um. I’ll leave you here with him?” She asked, keeping her voice low. I felt a moment of disappointment flash through me, secretly wishing she’d stay, for us to spend more time in this bubble we’d created for ourselves tonight. I know I wasn’t crazy, I know that she had to feel it too. But, at the risk of seeming clingy, I nodded, permitting her to leave the room. But a little voice protested, sitting straight up in his bed and tugging at her hand back to him.

“No, no!” Henry whined. “I want Auntie (Y/N) and Uncle Spencer here.”

I could hear her pause, before looking at me with a subtle, surrendering expression in her eyes. “Okay, okay, Henry.” She says, sitting down in his bed next to him.

She smoothed over his hair, and Henry looked at me expectantly. I exchanged a quick, covert look with her, implicitly making sure she was okay with all this, and she nodded, even repositioning herself to allow me more space on the other side of Henry. I slid in, moving around until I found a more comfortable position. The three of us attempting to squish into the same, child-sized bed resulted in a slightly tight fit, but it was cozy, nonetheless. (Y/N) had adjusted to be slightly leaned on her side, her hands now lazily playing with Henry’s hair, brushing the hair away from his face. I observed her affectionately, sensing a familiar warmth suffuse me yet again, as I beheld the domesticity in front of me. She made eye contact with me, still keeping her fingers running through the strands of the boy’s hair, smirking softly at me.

“You know.. I think someone promised us a bedtime story.” She murmured quietly, a touch of whimsy in her voice.

I chuckled softly at that, breathing out a little harder out of my nose. “Okay, yeah. Right.” I took a breath, and tried to recall something to recite off the top of my head. I decided on a classic, Alice in Wonderland as I felt its longevity would allow Henry ample time to fall asleep. She seemed pleased with this too, relaxing into her position on her other side of Henry, watching me as I began. I started to speak, my tone low and soothing, and in about twenty or so minutes, I could hear the soft breathing of the boy slow down and I gazed upon him, but quickly realized that (Y/N)’s fingers had stilled in his hair too, and in a moment of realization, I became aware that not only was Henry asleep, but so was she. I allowed myself to stare at her sleeping figure, marveling at the way strands of her soft hair gently placed themselves around her face in a way that framed her delicate features perfectly. I swallowed, wishing more than anything that I could lean over, brush over the wisps and kiss her forehead, but I held back, opting to gently push her awake.

“(Y/N).. hey.” I breathed out softly, keeping my voice to a low whisper so as to not wake Henry. “Come on, you don’t wanna fall asleep here.” I brought my hand to her shoulder, rubbing it softly to stir her awake and she did, blinking herself awake. She realized where she was and yawned, and let a soft giggle escape her lips.

“Ah, I totally fell asleep, didn’t I?” She mused, keeping a hushed voice.

“Yeah, you did.” I replied, watching as she woke up slowly, waiting for her to get up.

“You’re good at that. Getting him to sleep, I mean.” She said in return, keeping her attention on me, never once diverting her eyes from mine. She paused, seeming to consider her next words carefully, before following with a gentle addition, “You’d make a great dad.”

I tensed at the words, feeling my cheeks heat up from embarrassment and the sheer need to reach over and grab her by the shoulders, as if to alert her that, ‘Yes! I would! And I want that with you!’

Instead, I softly chuckled at her words, swallowing down my affection and nodding. “Yeah, I guess.”

She released a quiet breath, starting to move off the bed as slowly as she could. “We should get out of here. JJ and Will will be home soon, and we can go home.” She replied, in a faint voice.

I nodded, already beginning to shuffle off the bed and joining her at the door. I watched her give Henry one last look, before opening the door. She held it ajar for me and I walked past her quietly, and as I did, she followed, closing the door with a gentle click, and releasing another exhale.

“Thank god.” She said, smiling a little brighter now. We walked down the stairs, and she allowed her voice to raise as we got further and further away from Henry’s room. “It takes me forever to get him down. You’re like.. actual magic.” She continues, nudging my shoulder.

I fidget with my fingers, feeling a little bashful. We approached the living room again, standing in the middle of the room as we continued talking. “Yeah, no. JJ and Will have been asking me to babysit since Henry was three. You learn a lot.”

She gleamed at that, nodding. “Regardless of how you figured out how to do it, you were still a huge lifesaver tonight.” She remarked, adding to her statement in a soft voice. “Thanks.”

Her eyes met with mine. I gave her a smile, making eye contact with her again. I’d always loved her eyes, they were always so big and expressive. They just contained so much emotion, and I’d grown to love watching her when she was happy, or excited, because those emotions were so clearly reflected on every part of her face. But right now, as I looked into her eyes, they expressed an emotion I’d become very accustomed to seeing tonight, and found myself precariously losing my will to deny.

Desire.

And there it was again, that tenderness, that affection, and just the absolute craving to be with her, in every sense of the word. She bit her lip, and in an instant it was made clear to me that perhaps my sentiment to overlook the possible aftermath of giving into the desire that plagued us was shared, because she moved a little closer to me, her eyes moving from my eyes to my lips. I swallowed.

“Tonight was.. fun.” I murmur, eyeing her lips in a similar manner as she had.

She nodded, silent, before releasing a shaky exhale. “It was .. fun. Yeah.” She responds, her voice barely above a whisper.

We were barely speaking, and yet in that moment I felt entirely breathless in her presence. I wanted to say something, anything, but any thought of mine completely died, because as soon as I even attempted to open my mouth, she surged forward, planting her lips on mine. I was momentarily stunned. She kissed me once, then twice and then slowly pulled away. I instantly missed the feeling and warmth of her mouth against mine, wanting nothing more than to pull her against me again. She, on the other hand, looked mortified, her lips parted and her complexion flushed.

“Oh god, Spencer.” She started, a little frantic. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me, and we can forget-”

I finally gave into what I’d been yearning for the whole night, not even bothering to respond to her apologies as I pulled her back against me, bringing her face closer to mine in a heated, passionate kiss. I could feel her happily sigh into my mouth, and I took the opportunity to slip my tongue into her mouth, and she only responded more enthusiastically to that, her arms wrapping themselves around my neck. I took the opportunity to lean down, placing my hands on the back of her thighs, never once letting my lips leave hers. I heard her moan slightly into my mouth at that, and I couldn’t help the smirk that formed on my face. I’d wanted this for so long, and with the way she was reacting, I could tell the lust I felt was mirrored in her as well.

I laid her on the couch, finally letting my lips leave hers to take a breath as I positioned myself above her and grinning wildly, She looked equally as excited, already trying to pull me back against her.

“You have.. no idea.. how bad I’ve wanted this.” She murmured, in between breaths, attempting to kiss me yet again.

Before I kissed her, I leaned down, letting my lips brush over the shell of her ear, lowly whispering, “I think I have a clue.”

I heard another soft moan coming from her at my words, and I felt a wave of pride knowing I’d done that to her. She was the one under me, moaning for me like that, and it only spurred me on further. I promptly moved myself closer to kiss her again, letting both of my hands rest on either side of my face as I hovered above her, fully losing myself in the action. We continued at this, feeling our hunger for more grow. I began to let my hand trail down to her hips, slowly bringing my hand under her hoodie, feeling a shudder as my hand met her warm skin. It took nearly everything to not rip it off her, but in an unanticipated shift in circumstances, we heard the telltale noise of the front door knob moving from its locked position, signifying that JJ and Will had gotten home.

I lept off her, her body imitating my movements, instantly moving away from mine and I almost immediately yearned for her touch again, but I understood the dire situation we’d found ourselves in. She brushed over her hair, attempting to make herself look as normal as she possibly could. I took in her state, hair in disarray, her skin reddened and her lips swollen. I had a sneaking feeling that I most likely mirrored her disheveledness, and took a breath, silently begging that JJ and Will wouldn’t notice, and even if they did, they didn’t comment on it. We heard the footsteps of them approaching the living room, and (Y/N) stood up to greet them.

“JJ, Will.” She said, smiling. “Henry’s all asleep and put down.”

JJ smiled at her, hugging her gently. “Oh, thank you so much. Was he good?” She asked, laughing a bit.

“An angel.” (Y/N) responded, smiling.

As JJ’s eyes met mine, she raised an eyebrow. “Spencer, what are you doing here?” She asked, with a confused look, before Will spoke up behind us.

“I thought (Y/N) couldn’t babysit.. I called Spencer.” Will said, a little sheepishly.

JJ looked at him, her jaw dropping a bit. “No, remember? I told you, (Y/N) wasn’t but then she could.”

The two of them laughed a little apologetically as they realized their miscommunication, turning to face me and (Y/N).

“We’re so sorry guys. We didn’t even realize..” JJ started, but (Y/N) interrupted her.

“No, no. It’s okay! Spencer was a huge help.” She says, smiling at me.

“Yeah.” I responded, nodding and affirming her statement in an attempt to alleviate any guilt JJ or Will might’ve felt about the situation (not trying to reveal how secretly pleased I was with it). “(Y/N) made the time go by faster than usual. Don’t even worry about it.”

JJ sighed, smiling and nodding. “Thank you. It was nice to get out of the house tonight.”

“It was no problem.” (Y/N) responds. I can tell she’s trying to play it cool, to end off the interaction before JJ looked at the two of us for a little too long and realized what had conspired in her and Will’s absence. “So.. uh. It’s late.” (Y/N) breathes out. “And I love your kid, JJ, but I’m ready for some well deserved sleep.” She said, with a little smile.

JJ nodded, knowing the feeling all too well. “Yeah, get out of here.” She said, playfully waving a hand at (Y/N), then me. “You too, Spencer. I’m sure you’re tired too, even if you’re too polite to say so.”

I rubbed my neck with my hand, chuckling softly. “Yeah, yeah.” I replied, trying to fake tiredness to match JJ’s expectations of what I’d be like after a night of watching her kid. However, I was probably the furthest thing from tired. My mind was racing with the possibilities of what had just occurred with (Y/N) just now, and how badly I wanted to do more. The sheer desperation I felt for her was absolutely ruining me, and honestly, I had very little willpower stopping me from just taking her hand and dragging her out of the house, and kissing her right outside on the porch. Thankfully, before that could happen, (Y/N) started walking towards the door and I followed behind her, attempting to look as normal as I could.

“Goodnight!” She called out, opening the door.

“Get home safe!” JJ responded, watching as we both left and closing the door behind us. I took a breath, turning towards her and exhaling. The night air was a lot colder than the warmth of the house, but even then I could feel how hot my body was becoming, absolutely begging for her once again.

“So..” I started.

“So..” She responded, and then suddenly spoke up. “Do you need a ride home?”

I blinked in response, understanding the implicit request in her words and biting my lip at it. “Yeah, I do.” I responded.

“Great.” She responds with purpose, grabbing my hand with a need I’d never seen from her before. It thrilled the hell out of me to know she was just as eager as me, and longed for me with the same fervor. Her gaze was intense as she led me to her car, and in a split second, I decided I couldn’t wait an entire car ride to taste her again. I quickly pinned her against the war, and I could feel her let out a noise of surprise before I dove in for another kiss, taking delight in the way she pressed against me instantly, giving into the kiss. She demonstrated her enthusiasm, nearly moaning into my mouth and I laughed, shushing her in between kisses.

“(Y/N)!” I said, whisper-yelling. “We’re right outside JJ and Will’s house. Someone’s gonna hear us.”

She pulled back, breathing heavily and looking at me with a glint in her eye. “Well, will you hurry up then and just take me back to your place?” She retorted, playfully, diving in for one last kiss.

I nodded. “Gladly.” I took the car keys from her, grinning wildly.

“Hey! It’s my car!” She said, trying to grab the keys back, a hint of amusement in her tone.

“I know a faster way back to my place. Wouldn’t you rather get there, than argue over who drives?” I say, feeling a surge of confidence as I cockily raised an eyebrow at her.

She rolled her eyes, but I could sense the fondness in the expression as she basically ran to the passenger side, opening the door. “Drive fast. Please.” The desperation in her tone heightened my arousal and I wondered if it’d be possible to just give up and have sex in the backseat of her car, but I quickly let go of the thought. I’d wanted this for so long, and when I fucked her tonight, I was going to take my time. I was going to savor her, worship her for everything she was.

It took ten, painstakingly long minutes for us to reach my apartment, and less than three to stumble to my apartment, all over each other like a pair of horny teenagers. It was like we were magnets, unable to get away from each other for even a second without thinking we couldn’t live without the other. I responded passionately to each and every one of her advances against me, kissing her fervently against the wall, up the stairs, before finally leading her to my bedroom. We fell into my bed in a tangle of limbs, and I breathed heavily over her. Ultimately, we found ourselves once again in the same position we’d been in on JJ and Will’s couch, with me on top of her. I looked down at her, finally taking a break from kissing her to cradle her face with my palm, still holding myself above her body.

“Did you mean it?” She asked, softly, biting her lip.

“What do you mean?” I respond, starting to move my lips gently down her neck, testing out different points of sensitivity. I wanted to kiss every inch of her bare skin, to feel her in every way. I could feel her body squirm and tense as I let my lips linger on a particular spot between her ear and neck, beginning to lightly suck there until I heard a quiet moan coming out from the girl in front of me.

“The thing about me being a good mom.” She spoke, in between moans and happy sighs. “Or was that like, flirting? For sex?”

I suddenly retracted my position from her neck, making her whine a bit but I quickly placed a hand under her chin, forcing her to look at me.

“(Y/N), I cannot express how devastatingly real my feelings are for you. You’re- you’re perfect. And I wish I’d said it a long time before tonight, if I knew we could’ve done this much earlier.” I looked deep into her eyes, hoping my words and the intensity of my gaze could properly convey just how sincere I was about this, about her.

Her lips parted, and she let out a soft exhale, and then allowed the corners of her mouth to turn upwards in a smile. I smiled down at her, once again recapturing her lips in a kiss, almost as if to seal the deal between us. She reciprocated, before pulling back. “I meant it.” She admitted softly. “I’ve always thought you’d be a good dad.”

I could feel myself blushing at that, moving in for another kiss. I was enthralled by her, addicted to her taste and the way her lips moved over mine. I felt like I could do forever, but a slight mewl alerted me that she wanted a bit more than that.

“Spence, kissing is really, really nice. But if you don’t fuck-”

I quickly understood, beginning to kiss the expanse down her neck, already moving my hands under her hoodie and grabbing at her breast, squeezing the soft and supple skin through her bra, eliciting the sweetest sounds from her that only served to embolden me. I slowly moved to remove the pieces of fabric between us, and as soon as she registered the shuffling of her hoodie, she eagerly reached out to begin undoing the buttons of my own shirt. She paused, letting me pull off the hoodie and I leaned back, admiring her, all laid out like this for me. I ran a finger against her jawline, and watched her shudder at the intimacy of the action.

“You’re so beautiful.” I whisper, physically unable to take my eyes off her. I could tell it was affecting her, as she looked shy under my gaze, a light tinge of pink now dusting her cheeks as I spoke the words.

“Thank you.” She says, in a similar tone to mine. She leans up to kiss me again, and her fingers are working my buttons. I let her, shrugging the shirt off and pressing my bare chest against her. She was just so soft, and warm, and I truly couldn’t get enough of her. I moved down, kissing the swell of her breasts and moving my fingers back to unclasp her bra, slipping it off her and immediately attaching my mouth to her nipples, moving my hand to rub at the other one. I watched her mouth drop open, her face contorting with pleasure, moaning out my name. I continued my ministrations for a moment, before beginning to kiss down her stomach. I could feel the tensing of the muscles, her happy sighs and light moans indicating to me I was doing a good job at pleasing her, and at that moment, it’s all I wanted.

I began to slip down her sweatpants, reveling in the way she lifted up her hips, kicking off the clothing. I kissed near the hem of her underwear, teasing her by lightly tracing my finger near where a wet patch had formed against them.

“You were so good today, you know that?” I murmur, letting my breath hit her clothed core. I pressed a chaste kiss against it. “So fucking good.”

I hear a desperate moan from her, her hips jolting against my face, begging me for more. I nod, using my fingers to slide down the fabric, watching in fascination as her glistening folds were revealed to me, and in an almost primal way, I let my tongue dart out, licking a fat stripe against her. She immediately shuddered, nearly closing her thighs around me from the intense euphoria she was experiencing. I hooked my hands underneath them, holding her open and tasting the hot flesh against my tongue, enjoying the way she tasted against me. I had never felt such a burning need for anyone in my entire life, and I’m sure she could tell by the way, given the way I was absolutely devouring into her, my tongue continuing to move against her like a man starved, lapping up whatever I could. I wanted it all. I began to feel her thighs shake uncontrollably against me, and her moans reverberating around the room as her volume got louder.

“Please-please! Spencer. Holy fuck. Please don’t stop, please don’t-”

I let my tongue dart harshly against her clit, and her begging fell into a string of incoherent whimpers and praises for my mouth, making me chuckle slightly. It seemed to do her in, the vibration of my mouth causing her moans reaching a peak they hadn’t this entire night, and a tension leaving her body as she looked down at me with glazed eyes, breathing heavily. I drank her arousal, feeling the entirety of her arousal coating my lower chin. She moaned at the overstimulation, but I could only focus on how fucking good she tasted.

I moved up against her, giving her another kiss, before I felt her moving, tugging me off her.

“Something wrong?” I asked, knitting my brows and biting my lip.

“I need you inside me. Now. Please.” She said, the intensity of her desperation going straight to my cock as I nodded quickly.

“Okay, yeah.” I replied, quickly beginning to undo my own pants and pulling my cock out of the confines of my briefs. I gave it a few strong tugs, before moving above her again, rubbing the head of my arousal against her folds. She moaned at the feeling, before it died out into a silent scream as I moved inside of her with no warning. She screwed her eyes shut, before moaning out, “Fuck. You feel so good.”

That was all the incentive I needed, beginning to buck wildly against her watching as we both lost ourselves in the pleasure we were giving to the other. As she whimpered, I moaned out at the feeling of how well she was taking me. I leaned down, whispering into her ear. “You’re so good.” I moaned, feeling a particularly strong clench against my cock. “I want you so badly. I wanna make you mine.” I groaned, barely getting the words out as she tensed against me, clearly nearing her second release of the night.

I could feel the twitch of my member inside of her, feeling the arousal fill up in the pit of my belly, my breathing getting heavier and faster as we both reached our peaks.

“Take me.” She moaned, desperate and needy. “I’m yours. Make me yours.” She said, nearly screaming out the words.

My hips snapped harder against her, a primal growl coming out of me as I heard the words. “Is that right? You wanna be filled? You want my cum inside you, then?”

“Yes, yes! Spencer, please- please! I need it!” At her last beg, I groaned, feeling myself expel inside of her, feeling myself come inside of her. A few moments later, her walls spasmed against me, soft whimpers and moans leaving her lips as she convulsed against my cock. I thrust lazily, working both of us through our orgasms, before gently rolling off her, and kissing her forehead, then her cheek.

“You’re so amazing.” I whisper to her, as she gives me a dazed smile, clearly fucked out but elated. A thin sheen of sweat covered her, and it only served to make her look even more radiant in the light of my bedroom.

“You too, doc.” She said, a teasing quality in her voice, as she shifted herself closer to me. I opened my arms up to her, letting her lay her head on my chest, and I could feel her breathing relax and slow down as she settled against me, closing her eyes.

“Goodnight.” I murmur, kissing the top of her head one final time. I began to close my eyes, ready to fall asleep like this, before I heard her voice again, soft and light.

“Spence?” She mumbled, half-asleep as her lips brushed the bare skin of my chest.

“Mm?”

“I really like you.”

I laughed at that, feeling a bloom of absolute adoration fill my chest. “I really like you too.” I sighed, closing my eyes once more. “Sleep.”

The next morning, I woke up to the sound of my phone ringing, groaning as I realized it was JJ. (Y/N) was still asleep in my arms, and I shifted our positions slightly, careful not to wake her. I answered the phone in a low tone. “JJ? What’s up?”

JJ’s voice came frantic from the other line. “Spencer?! Spencer. Oh my god. Did (Y/N) get home last night? I’m here at her apartment, and I don’t see her car in the parking space and-”

I internally groaned, realizing I was going to need to explain her whereabouts without revealing what we had done. “Erm. JJ. Don’t worry.” I responded, trying to seem nonchalant, keeping my voice down. “I’m sure she’s fine.”

“Don’t worry?! Spencer, where the fuck is she?! Did you see her go home or-”

I interrupted her, sighing discerning that JJ wasn't going to take a vague answer right now. “She’s with me, okay! It’s okay. She’s with me.”

There was a beat, and then I heard the smile in her voice. “She’s with you?”

I rubbed my forehead, letting out a low groan. “She is.”

JJ’s voice, now growing excited erupted in a fit of giggles and laughs. “Oh god, I owe Will twenty bucks now. I knew it would happen eventually, but I never assumed all it would take would be one night spent together!”

It was my turn to be confused, knitting my brows. “Sorry, what?”

JJ responded simply, her coyness over the phone giving away everything. “Let’s just say we knew we were double-booking last night.”

hello again! thank you so much for reading. as usual, likes, reblogs, feedback are all appreciated. i cannot say thank you enough. <3 p.s . thanks for everyone's help on the poll!! i hope this satisfied everyone's want for a long smut fic, haha:3

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

2K notes · View notes

jojikawa · 5 months

Text

Ice Cream & Kisses 🍨

Sukuna makes Yuuji agree to terms that involve visiting you more regularly.

tw// fluff, adult language, MC is Lilith! (a powerful demoness), lewd/suggestive themes.

masterlist

Full Image + Artist: bikku__2

Yuuji found himself pretty exhausted from his excessive training at school, so when he finally got back to his dorm, he was just grateful to be in bed again. This is how things went for a while until he had taken Sukuna to meet you again for the first time. Now, he bothered Yuuji every night. The helpless boy was caught in the middle of a love that lasted thousands of years. The King of Curses thoughts of you bled into his own. It made Yuuji curious about what your relationship with Sukuna was like. On the surface, you seemed kind and gentle. Your voice was soft-spoken and you were utterly gorgeous as your beauty was unaffected by age.

Although, your sheep’s clothing didn’t change the wolf that was inside. You were the Goddess of Demons. The first woman, condemned by God themself and turned into the first woman-shaped demon. If Sukuna is supposed to be this terrifying threat, he couldn’t imagine what sort of threat you’d be. To be honest, he was just grateful that you are as docile as you come off to be. For now, at least.

So, when Ryomen Sukuna approached Yuuji with an offer, he wasn’t too on the fence about the whole thing.

“New rules, kid. Trust me, you’re gonna like them too.”

A mouth on the side of Yuuji’s face formed to utter these words. With his eyebrows knitted together, he replied “Whenever I agree to something with you, it never goes well. I don’t believe you when you say I’ll ‘like’ them either!” Then he proceeded to fold his pillow over to suffocate Sukuna’s mouth so that he could rest.

“Don’t you wanna lay your head down somewhere other than this shitty bed?!”

Suddenly, Yuuji became a bit self-conscious of the bed he had been lying in. The school beds were fine…right? However, he noticed how his back would hurt sometimes. Sukuna spoke his new terms to which Yuuji reluctantly agreed.

“You listen to me and you listen closely. After school, you go find her. I won’t ask again. Understood?”

It was the evening. You had spent nearly all day at the local elementary school before you walked the children to their routes as usual before going to your spacious apartment. The weather was distrustful. It was spring so it would rain, but some days it would be dry and others you’d even still feel the bitter cold of winter nipping at your cheeks and making them sore.

After your talk with Sukuna again, you expected him to take what you said seriously. You didn’t know how the two of you could be together with Yuuji always around. It was awkward. So, you wanted him to figure out his situation first. You dangled the possibility over his head the way you would a biscuit for a dog.

knock! knock! knock!

You had just sat down on your couch, hot cocoa in hand when you heard a series of knocks at your door. You hoped that it wasn’t your disturbing neighbor. Anything but her. Instead of setting your mug down, you took it with you to the door.

Upon opening it, you saw that it was—

“You found me again.” You smugly sipped your drink as you laid eyes upon Yuuji. A blush of embarrassment covered his face. “He made me come.” He couldn’t help but shut his eyes when he caught the sight of what you chose to wear. There was nothing sexual about it at all—really. It’s just that Sukuna’s filthy thoughts shouted over Yuuji’s innocent ones. Internally, he ushered the boy to open his eyes so that the King of Curses could see you in all of your glory.

“You can come in, I suppose.” You stepped aside, allowing the boy to come in. Getting inside, he took in the familiar warmth of the living space. It was cozy and suited for one person. Carpeted rugs, couches with fuzzy pillows, feminine-scented items, and lastly…demons?

“What is that!?” Yuuji yelled, pointing in disbelief at the small imp that was stalking him in the doorway of your kitchen. It was a small, ugly thing…looking like some sort of deformed animal. In its clawed hand was a can of febreeze that it dropped and ran away out of fear of the human, Yuuji.

“It’s getting away!” The boy added, causing you to laugh. “Oh, don’t worry. That's one of my little helpers. His name is Gnaar.”

“You just have those things running around? Isn’t that dangerous?” Yuuji frowned. You figured that he wasn’t able to differentiate curses and demons.

“No,” Your eyes rolled to the left, sipping more of your drink. “They’re harmless.” You gave him a reassuring smile. “I know you didn’t come all this way for nothing. Feel free to have a seat.”

Yuuji then saw you sit your cup down and disappear into the kitchen. For a few moments, he sat in silence—or what seemed like it.

“You brat! Let me talk to her!”

Tired of his yelling, Yuuji gave control to Sukuna, trusting that you’d make him behave or else the student would suffer consequences from his teachers and probably all of Jujustu Society.

The King of Curses was able to take in his environment without being a passenger within the vessel. The way the room smelled was familiar and it reminded him so much of you. His eyes darted to the nearby mug you had been drinking from. Lazily picking it up, he sniffed it. It was chocolatey…then he proceeded to down the remaining contents before licking his lips. That was when you emerged from the next room. You had witnessed him setting the mug back down. Naturally, your eyebrows knitted together. Sukuna helping himself to your stuff was nothing new.

“Oh, Ryo. I was just making you a cup!” You scold him like an upset mother. Sukuna turned his head towards you, his mouth curling into a grin. He loved being annoying. To you—most of all. “What’s yours is mine.” He noticed that you were holding a tray. It had a fresh cup of hot cocoa and a bowl of…ice cream. In a moment, you were back on the couch next to him. It was nice to see you like this finally. You wore a sleeved white shirt that was appropriate for the weather, but it was low cut, showing off your cleavage. The shirt was cropped where it showed off your belly. As for your bottoms, you were wearing thick leggings that were tight enough to show your shapely body.

“Excuse me.” You handed him his mug of cocoa which he took. He had the entire thing in one gulp with no caution to the temperature. “Ah…HEY, GNAAR GET IN HERE!”

Gnaar came running in, tripping over his own hooves to heed Sukuna’s request.

“Don’t yell at him.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his obedience. It was only slightly but you had become giddy with excitement. Gnaar took the empty dishes to the kitchen. “God, I missed that little freak.” He watched the imp stumble into the next room. “He certainly hasn’t missed you.” You replied as you reached for the ice cream. It was Neapolitan.

“I have something I want to share with you.” Instinctively, you scooted over towards Sukuna. On the inside, Yuuji felt his heart skip a beat when your thigh touched Sukuna’s. It was hard for him to believe that Sukuna could have his heart rate quicken at your actions.

“It doesn’t look like anything.” He faked a bored tone so that you’d continue. “It’s ice cream. Surely you’ve had it since this vessel has found you?”

His nose scrunched up. “No.” He replied flatly. Or maybe, he didn’t remember having it? He didn’t pay attention to the things Yuuji consumed so this would probably be his first time having modern ice cream.

“Then try some, Darling.”

Sukuna hadn’t even noticed how close you were to him now. He wasn’t used to the two of you being at eye level. The time you spent together was mostly you trying to navigate his large body. He missed the days when you’d climb onto his lap and he’d let you do whatever you wanted to him. But he liked this too. This was—normal.

Sukuna let you feed him the ice cream. It was only a spoonful but he already knew he liked it. It was cold but sweet. It sent a pleasant tingle to his cheeks that made him want to smile. He resisted this feeling, but couldn’t stop himself from wanting more. You patiently waited for his subtle expressions. You weren’t able to tell if he liked it or not.

“Did I tell you to stop?”

You placed a hand on your cheek. “Aw, so Ryo does like ice cream. But you have to eat it slowly.” You gave Ryo another spoonful. He grew impatient, demanding he feed himself. Of course, he gave himself a brain freeze doing so.

“I tried to warn you.” You watched as Sukuna held his head and squeezed his eyes shut. He muttered curses under his breath as he felt no relief and couldn’t bring himself to do anything else about it.

The bowl of ice cream was gone and simply a dish waiting to be taken away by Gnaar. Although, you grew concerned when it seemed like he wasn’t recovering from it. “Ryo~” Your arms snaked around his neck and you pulled his body towards you. Sukuna felt your lips press upon his temple and his cold headache magically disappeared.

“Do that again.”

On instinct, you rolled your eyes. “Of course.”

You placed a kiss on his temple again. Another on his cheek and then on his jaw. He reveled in your kisses. They felt like heaven; a reward for simply existing because existing is exhausting.

He almost wanted to return the favor. You see, Ryomen Sukuna isn’t exactly the best at reciprocating any love that wasn’t a display of power. He was the best at killing things, pleasing during sex, and scaring any man who dares to breathe in your direction…but kissing, cuddling, holding…that was your thing. Ryo hasn’t even said those sacred three words. He hoped that you could feel how pure his love is for you or at least, him killing your evil ex-husband aided in conveying his feelings. He genuinely believed he didn’t deserve you but he was too selfish to ever part from you.

Ryomen Sukuna wanted you all to himself.

“There. You should feel better now.” Your lips curved into a smile that brought him peace. The same thing kept running through his head. Things are “normal” now. Sukuna despised being inside the body of a punk like Yuuji but it surely had its perks.

“Can I kiss you?”

Normally, he wouldn’t need to ask but you were confused. Your lover looked as if he were in a daze. Your watchful eyes could see every micro-expression on his face but he still managed to make things hard to understand since he was always sure of himself. You expected more of a Kiss me or a very commanding I deserve my reward for being your husband but you entertained him nonetheless. Is he asking for permission? You just had to tease him.

“Just a kiss? Knowing you, you’d probably want to take it a step further but I don’t know…you’re not exactly my type anymore.” You stifled a laugh by placing your fingertips over your mouth. There it was again. A reminder that he wasn’t in his own body or at his pull strength. But it was fine. He enjoyed it.

He liked to know you preferred his true form when he thought about it. Sukuna felt so ugly in the Heian Era. Before you, the only things to satisfy him were wailing concubines and prostitutes who didn't enjoy his presence because of his huge body, four arms, and two mouths.

“What does it matter?!” He spat, behaving like a total tsundere at times. “That’s what you want anyway right?!” Oh, how he longed to be inside of you again.

“Hm..” Your eyes rolled to the left as you pretended to think. “I’m not sure. Two fewer arms wouldn’t be as fun in bed.”

“I can still please you.” He quipped.

“I guess you’ll have to prove it to me…but not—“

You were silenced by Sukuna’s lips being pressed to yours. It wasn't his usual hungry kiss where it felt like he was trying to devour your face. It was sweet—no, innocent…desperate, like if he stopped, you’d disappear like a moment in time. Your belly filled with butterflies, making you put your hands on his chest to push him away, but he didn’t budge.

It wasn’t until Sukuna finally pulled away that you got a breath of air. Even he was slightly panting at his actions. You’ve never experienced such raw emotions from him…you kinda liked it.

“Why even ask if you’re just gonna do it huh, Ryo?” You smirked, making him even more flushed than he already was. “Shut up.” He grumbled before running a hand through his hair. What did you expect? The two of you have been sitting here this long. How long is he supposed to go without it?

On the inside, Yuuji expected you to scold Sukuna but he saw you smile instead. You didn’t seem to take offense to the King of Curses telling you to shut up.

“I actually like it when you make the first move like that.” You scooted even closer and leaned your body against his. Whether you knew it or not, your chest was pressing up against his arm. “Do it again~!”

You were literally peak woman.

So, of course, he gave into your temptation. He couldn’t resist your plush lips. Especially after getting a taste just now. It was an open mouth kiss. He practically shoved his tongue into your mouth. You could taste the lingering ice cream on his lips and tongue.

Briefly, he would pull away just to nuzzle into your neck and take in your perfume. He was being romantic and he didn’t even realize it. It made you feel so wanted. Neither of you was able to fight the bottled-up feelings you had for each other.

Hi! hope you liked this part. I’m already working on the next part. I’ll be working in more Lilith themes to help expand on your relationship with Sukuna and also an explanation for “Adam” in future parts :3

#ryomen x reader #sukuna x reader #jjk sukuna #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujustu kaisen headcanons #Sukuna x demon reader #female reader #reader insert #fluff

488 notes · View notes

chaosandmarigolds · 21 days

Note

okay it has been the longest time since I've asked for a request but I freaking LOVE THE WAY YOU WRITE!! So I have a Simon riley request. You can really run off with my idea and write it however you want but Ive had an idea in my head about Simon and the reader adopting because reader or Simon can't have kids and I want to know how he'd handle a kid who's probably been thru some stuff to end up in the foster/adopting system.

ANYWAYS ILYSM keep up your amazing work 😍😍

(no cause I actually screamed omg thank you so much for your kind words they truly mean the world to me <333 )

Adoption! Simon Riley Who had zero doubt on that he wanted children with you, even though he was terrified of failing them he wanted to try

Simon Riley! Who took you to all of the doctors appointments and the testing and the trails and never once mentioned how expensive it is

Simon Riley who was probably the only person a bit more crushed than you when the doctor told you both that it wouldn't be possible to have children of your own.

Simon Riley who let the matter go under the radar for a few months before you walk into the bedroom, tablet to chest

"i'm gonna say something and I need you to be open to it."

He blinks a few times as he sets his book down on his lap, "Should I be scared?"

"No. But..." You hold out the tablet, showing him the adoption application you had half filled out, "I mean there's thousands of kids who-who need a family an-and-"

"Finish it up, why don't ya- lemme get the bank statements, yeah?"

Simon Riley! who would rather go back on deployment than have more people walk through his home while making judgments on if it was 'child friendly'

Simon Riley! Who sat up with you every time you were waiting for an update, watching easy going bake shows on the sofa with the laptop email service open on the coffee table in front of you

Simon Riley! Who was a little bit disgusted when the agent sat you both down with the files of children in need, because he did have half a mind to just take them all

"Now I know you both told me you were looking for a baby, and I understand that however the waitlist for that is incredibly long and ultimately it is the mother's choice in that situation," The agent's eyes go to Simon, almost as if to say 'no mother would ever choose that' and she pushes the file to you, "And I always push for the adoption of some of the older kids. There's no pressure."

Your eyes narrow to the folders in front of you and you gulp down, hands shakily going to the folder in front of you and pulling it to your lap, all the while you could tell Simon was just still a little confused by the statement the agent had made before. However, you humored it, flipping through the photos and the tragic backstories that made your eyes water, until you open one that caught your attention, two children sat in the photoinsteadd of one.

Name: Macey-Ann Adams

Age: 11 years

Name: Taylor Kate Adams

Age: 24 months

"Si..." You didn't tell that your voice was muffled by a bit of tears and you hold the file over to your husband, who looked over the pictures, taking you slight interest. So he lightly takes the file and then looks up at the agent.

"These two?" He speaks as softly as he was able to.

The agent looks at the file and then a frown appears on her face, "Macey, she...she's a troubled girl, on her fourth foster home, and she's jumping schools, I would not recommend her."

with a shuttered breath you breath out, "But...but she's just a kid- can...can we meet her and Taylor?"

Simon Riley did extensive research as soon as he got home, finding the articles from the local newspaper on the two girls who were so severely abused by their father that they wouldn't look the police officer in the eye

Simon Riley who was beginning to think it wouldn't be a good idea until they met the girls at the local park

Simon Riley who saw so much of himself in that little girl it made him almost puke

Simon Riley who got over himself when he saw your beaming face as you held Taylor, helping her get the cherry blossom from the tree

Simon Riley who would be lying if he said he wasn't estatic when you were approved for the adoption

Simon Riley who tried to get to know Macey but the girl was quiet, self suffiecnt, she was him

"You're taking Taylor." Macey mutters as she sits on the swing, watching you with her baby sister

Simon squints against the sun and sits down in the swing beside her, and then he looks to you, a smile on his lips for a moment, "Not jus' her."

To that the eleven year old looks at him, a frown on her face, "What? People want babies. Taylor is a baby."

There was a long silence and Simon looked down at his boots, "You like trampolines?"

Macey blinked, "I do."

"Gonna buy you a trampoline for the backyard when the court says it's all over."

Another pause, "You're taking both of us?"

"Figured you'd wanna stay with your lil' sis."

"I-kinda....thanks, Mister Riley."

"Simon. You can call me Simon, or...whatever you wan, and' we gotta get a move on your sister was wan'n a ice cream."

Simon Riley! Who takes careful care in helping Macey unpack

Simon Riley! Who takes the girls shopping every weekend until he thinks they have everything they need

Simon Riley! Who loves his girls more than anything else in the world

( I hope this is good and honestly this is so cute I may write a more in-depth one shot type of thing. Comments and feedback make my day! annnd yeah! that's it <33

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon fluff #simon x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #dad simon riley #dad!simon riley #dad!ghost #simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost call of duty #cod imagine #cod x reader #coco's chaos <3 #simon riley x female reader #x female!reader

352 notes · View notes

fariesoiree · 5 months

Text

it’s completely normal to have a disagreement with your boyfriend but hobie cannot understand why you’d resort to the silent treatment.

caution! mdni 4.5k wrdz, angst to smut pipeline, brat reader, oral ( r. receiving ), fingering ( r. receiving ) pet names, gwen makes an appearance, hobie smokes weed reference, partially unedited pls do not spam like my blog if you enjoyed it, feel free to tell me in the reblogs

you’re not entirely sure how it happened. or rather, you’re just not ready to admit it, yet. you suppose it really started before you met up with hobie, having woke up on the wrong side of the bed.

everything pissed you off today. the way the outfit you planned looked terrible on you, showing up late to class, getting yelled at by customers at work. every event just piled right on top of each other and made you feel a thousand times worse.

you only made it halfway through the day before a grimace etched itself on your face and your words became short and curt.

the cherry on top was when you planned to lay in the comfort of your bed, only to find yourself whisked away to hobie’s houseboat.

he seemed so happy with his proposition for you to meet a friend of his who just happened to be in town. you couldn’t say no despite so desperately wanting to. when would there ever be a chance that his friend would be back and he’d be this happy to tell you?

and with your terrible mood, your usual demeanor was replaced with something much colder. instead of engaging in the conversation between hobie and gwen, you sit silently in the corner.

your knees are pulled into your chest and you fiddle with the seams of your socks. each sonorous laugh has your teeth grinding. you haven’t uttered much more than a few sentences, wondering when you’re going to be able to make your escape back home.

you miss hobie’s curious peeks. it’s so blaringly obvious that you’re not feeling like yourself. if your silence didn’t give it away, your lack of affection definitely did.

you didn’t squeeze him tight in a hug the moment he showed up at your door. there was no rambling of your day, no kisses and giggles that follow. all the usual bits he loves and look forward to never came and on top of that, he gets the odd feeling you’ve been avoiding his touch since you got there. it makes his stomach twist in knots.

“gwendy,” he says with his eyes darting towards you.

you’re oblivious, nails scraping against the divets and curves in the fabric of his small sofa.

“i’m off to get a drink. want somethin’?”

“i’m good. thanks, though, hobes.” gwen shakes her head with a smile. she’s also just as clueless. having this being her first time meeting you, she just assumes you’re always like this and there’s nothing wrong with being quiet, albeit the way you do it makes her feel a bit uncomfortable.

you press your lips into your knees to hide your scoff. “ ‘hobes’,” you mouth, picking at a thread. it’s such a minuscule detail, one that you’ve repeated overlooked in the past. never has it been anything but a friendly nickname but in your miffed state, it’s a sign of betrayal.

hobie doesn’t need a sixth sense to know there’s an obscure issue. he’s known you long enough to know when you’re irked and how he has to force it out of you.

for your sake and not wanting to draw attention to the situation, he strolls into the kitchen. his slides scrape against the floor. the sound is like nails on a chalkboard and has your face scrunching up.

with just you and gwen left, the silence is deafening. most of the conversation had been with hobie and nothing changed your unwillingness to talk. still, gwen felt the need to try. whether she wanted to relate to another girl or make a good impression is unknown.

“so . . . you and hobie, huh?”

you consider ignoring her but guilt blooms across your skin. even if your worst mood, a small remnant of your manners remain. not enough to make you pleasant, though. “mhm.” you hum, not bothering to look in her direction.

next to you, your phone vibrates to reveal a text. you sit up just enough to lean over it and the screen unlocks after recognizing your face. you’re not dumbfounded that it’s the topic of the conversation himself, requesting your presence.

at some point he’d say something, that you know. doesn’t exactly make you feel any better about it. “i’ll be back,” you mumble, legs unfolding until you’re standing.

you’re not looking forward to the upcoming conversations but you shuffle forward, regardless. your arms are already crossed when you stand in front of him. this is the first time you’re truly looking at him since you got here and your expression is so frigid.

“what’s up with you?” hobie leans against the counter, his arms crossed and mirroring yours. “been pissy all day.”

you know he’s seriously waiting for an answer when he’s unaffected by the eye rolls that follow. “nothing’s wrong. i’m not anything.”

“you’re really goin’ to stand there and tell me there’s nothin’ goin’ on when you’re actin’ like that? come out of it.”

you dodge his narrowing gaze by staring at the kitchen sink instead. your lips are pressed together and your thoughts move at a hundred miles an hour, searching for the perfect method to dissipate this conversation. “i’m fine. there’s nothing going on.”

“then that’s worse,” hobie eyes you down. it makes you feel small, the way his head is tilted and bordering a correctional glare. “then you’re jus’ being mean for no reason.”

“i’m not being mean. i just don’t feel like talking.” it’s not completely a lie. you don’t feel like talking, that’s true, but you’ve also purposefully been abhorrent so you’d have an excuse to leave.

he looks at you incredulously, scrambling to stand and motioning towards gwen’s direction. “you’re not being mean? so you haven’t said a word to gwen and barely two words to me because you ‘don’t feel like talking’.”

“yes. exactly.” you can already tell this isn’t going to end well. not with the way your chest burns with an angry fire. “that’s what i just said.”

hobie feels like he’s talking to a wall with the way you dismiss everything he says. “darlin’, i’m really, really trying not to cause a scene right now but you’re makin’ it harder than it needs to be.” with a hand on your shoulder, he guides you farther back into the kitchen. his patience is wavering, he can feel it. it’s becoming progressively more difficult to maintain his cool. “it doesn’t take fuckin’ einstein to know there’s somethin’ up.”

“you’re trying not to make a scene but you just cussed at me.” you grumble, dragging your feet until you’re stationed next to the glass door.

“i did not – ” he has to stop and take a breath, noticing the crescendo in his voice. “ ☆ , what is wrong with you? your mood is poor and you aren’t even speaking to gwen, which is the whole reason i wanted you to come.”

you glare off the porch, watching the water lap and crash against each other. between everything he said, all you got is he’s prioritizing another girl over you. in your spoiled brain, he should never be scolding you about this. “oh, i’m sorry if i’m making you and gwendy uncomfortable. maybe it would be best if i go.”

“do not do that.” he points at you, thumb facing the ceiling. “do not turn this into something it isn’t.” his restraint officially snapped, words dripping with venom. “everyone is being nothing but nice. you’re the only one here that has an issue. i only asked you what’s wrong because i care about you. stop acting like a – ” hobie pauses again, eyes closing in frustration. “whatever. i’m over it. do what you want.” he waves it off and turns on his heel. he would have considered that a win, had you not stopped him.

“no, say it. call me what you were going to call me.” you dart in front of him, hands on your hips. you should have stopped, let the argument vanish into nothing but you couldn’t help yourself. you had already committed yourself to it.

“just let it go.” hobie attempts to side step you, only for you to stand in front of him again. he has no interest in playing your games so he waits at a standstill. “i don’t want to hurt your feelings and i don’t want to argue. let it go, ☆ .”

“say it,” you insist. you have your head tilted up, basically pressed all up against him. you’re daring him, as if he won’t do it and you don’t expect him to. not once can you remember hobie ever calling you anything but endearing names.

he sucks his teeth and takes a step away from you. you’re unhinged, he decides. daily stress has finally gotten to you and you’ve gone off the rails. “i’m going to say this once and i mean this when i say it. you need to go the fuck home and get your shit together. honestly, love, this is unacceptable and i’m not takin’ this disrespect in my house.”

you wanted to go home. you wanted to go home a while before this but you wanted to go on your own accord. you weren’t supposed to go back and forth like this and he wasn’t supposed to kick you out. “you’re joking, right? hobie, you brought me here. how am i supposed to get home?”

it’s a well known fact that hobie prefers to take the unconventional routes. he’d rather swing than walk and walk than drive. even when it comes to you, he’s always willing to be your transportation so you aren’t driving or being driven around. so when he pulls out his phone and promptly sends you enough money to get an Uber, it truly cements how sincere he is. “go home, lovely. i’ll come by later and we can try this again.”

“ ‘bie,” you sniffle, eyes welling with tears. not only is he kicking you out but he’s also sending you home.

“go home,” he repeats. his parting gift is a pat on the head before he walks past you. you’re unsure whether or not he really saw how distraught you felt but you doubt it would make a difference.

you’re too embarrassed to show your face so you take the back way, exiting through the porch by the kitchen. you circle the boat until reaching the dock and step off, wiping the tears from your cheeks.

it’s unbelievable that your sweet, darling hobie would do this to you. granted, you deserved it and technically got what you wanted.

still, you can’t stop your tears from flowing the whole way home, even up through the lobby of your apartment and into your room. the warmth of your bed is just as you imagined, although now bittersweet.

your eyes are puffy and hurting. you fight the urge to let them close and scroll through your phone. most of the reasoning behind was to see if hobie would text you at all but your notifications remained empty. it stings more than you imagined. he’s always always texted you to make sure you’ve gotten in your room safely.

“whatever,” you toss your phone onto the other side of the bed and roll over. “i don’t need you. enjoy your date with gwendy, hoe.” you mumble into your pillow. you huff, pulling the covers up to your chin. if hobie wants to be like that then fine. he can do what he wants.

LINE BREAK

you stir awake to the sound of your bedroom door clicking shut. you’d be worried if the familiar smell of pine and weed didn’t fill the air. it’s subtle but you know him too well to be wrong.

you reach for your phone, feeling around in the bed until the cool glass meets your palm. the bright screen reads midnight and entirely too far past his normal arrival time.

“you stink,” you mumble when he gets into bed beside you. he has his own bed but he’s so accustomed to you and your warmth, hobie can’t help but make his way to wherever you are.

“don’t kill my high.” his gruff whisper fills your ear. he slips his arm between you and the mattress to pull you into his chest. “sent gwen off and came here. didn’t have time to enjoy it, yet.”

you purse your lips, flashbacks of earlier in the day coming flooding in. your nap nearly wiped all those memories away. he just said to bring it up, again. and right on cue —

“feelin’ better?” he splays his over your tummy and brushes his thumb back and forth along your skin. “we can talk about it, again.”

you don��t respond, too busy feeling crossed. it would be best to reopen the discussion now that your emotions aren’t running as high but you’re too petty to do that. hobie wronged you. he started an argument and kicked you out. he didn’t even check to see if you made it home safe.

“lovey? you okay?” he taps his fingers against you. maybe you fell asleep on him.

nothing.

hobie sits up. you can feel his weight shift as he peers over your body. your eyes are open and he can see you looking at him, you’re just not speaking. he raises a brow and pushes your shoulder over until you’re on your back with a clear view of each other. “do you hear me talkin’ to you or what?”

he’s peeved when you roll over without even acknowledging him. “absolutely fuckin’ not.” he pushes your shoulder down again and holds it there. “you givin’ me the silent treatment?”

you shrug.

you fucking shrug.

hobie considers himself a rational person. if he’s upset, he’ll talk about it. if he’s not ready to talk about it, he’ll let you know. if he notices you’re too upset to communicate efficiently, he’ll give you space. what he will not tolerate is bullshit like this. you’re ignoring him, purposefully not saying anything and he’s expected to take it?

“i’m talkin’ to you.” he squishes your cheeks is his hand until they pucker, eyes narrowed into slits. he doesn’t know what your problem is but he’s sure if you continue like this, he’ll snap the world in half.

you pull away from him, reeling your head back until it’s out of his grasp. with you’re newfound freedom, you roll over and tap your phone. it’s now half past midnight and you’re losing hours on sleep.

hobie watches, enraged, as you slide it beside your pillow and snuggle deeper into the comfort of your bed. he doesn’t move, still processing his emotions. what he wants to do is pull you into his lap and keep you up all night until you speak to him but he figures it just make you more irritable.

so he scoffs and lays back down beside you. “okay. throw your tantrum. we’ll talk in the morning.” he pulls you into his chest, regardless, fingers curling around your waist. his lips are pressed together and by your ear.

he’s hopeful that in the morning, this mood you’re in will pass. that’s the notion he holds on to while he drifts off into his slumber and the same one he wakes up to when he’s reaching for your missing body.

the sun is up and beaming through the sheer layer of curtains. you must have opened the blackout layer behind them. he can hear the shower water running to a stop. hobie rubs his eyes and pulls his arm over his head for a stretch.

it’s a bit odd, he thinks, that you’ve woken up without him. he doesn’t think you’ve rolled over and pressed soft kisses on his face until he’s waking. maybe you did and he went back to sleep.

his legs carry himself into the bathroom where you reside. he’s operating off your normal schedule, getting ready together. he’s surprised when he turns the handle, only for it to fall short. “the door is locked, sweetheart.”

hobie leans against the frame. he’s tall enough to take up the entirety of the space. his hand comes up to rub his face once before he realizes the amount of time that’s passing right now. he can hear you in there, hear the water in the sink running but you don’t open the door.

his first thought it maybe you just can’t open it right now.

he, however, comes to his second thought when you do open it and scroll right past him without one glance in his direction.

you’re still ignoring him.

“oi duck, here’s what’s going to happen.” hobie knows you’re listening when you pause, hand freezing at the lotion pump. “i’m going to go brush my teeth, yeah? and you’re going to get over this thing you’re in and when i come back, we’re going to sit down and talk about this like adults.”

what he doesn’t know is the insinuation you’re not acting like an adult sends you farther into you stubbornness. to be truthful, he’s not wrong. you’re only doing this to make a point, to stick it to him that you didn’t appreciate what he did to you

you scoff to yourself and have a seat at your vanity. “who does he think he is?” you mumble, unscrewing the lid to your toner. “telling me what i’m gonna do. i’ll talk when i want to.”

you can see him in the mirror. with the bathroom door wide open, you get a perfect view of him slowly turning his head towards you, toothbrush dangling from his mouth.

it dawns on you that he heard you when he’s hastily rinsing out his mouth. you jump to your feet so quickly, the chair nearly topples to the ground. you’re darting across the room on the way out.

you only make it halfway before a sticky web is wrapped around your waist and pulling you back to the center of the room.

“what’d you say, sweetheart?” hobie turns you around, hands planted firmly on your hips. his fingers dig into your skin as if ready to pull the answer out of you.

you persist with your silence even while your heart beats out of your chest. you avoid looking at him, instead staring at the the gleaming silver hoop pierced through his nose.

your refusal to say anything has him ticked off. you haven’t said a word to him since last night and the only time you’ve even acknowledged him is to talk shit.

hobie isn’t having that.

he doesn’t bother to ask you again. he picks you up easy, a hand wrapped around your waist. he considers himself to be patient, letting you have your fun. he didn’t say anything to you last night, he forgave you for trying to incite an argument, he was even giving you another chance and was willing to work through it.

it’s you who’s making it difficult, uncooperating like a unreasonable person. you won’t even tell him why. how is he supposed to mend the situation if he doesn’t know what the problem is?

“you’re pissin’ me off.” he drops you on the edge of the bed. his talk could be mistaken as directed towards you but in actuality, he’s ranting to himself. “so spoiled y’know? throwing a fit for no reason.”

you freeze when he hooks his fingers inside the waistband of your shorts. your instincts are screaming at you to whine and complain but your intransigency is too focused on making a point.

“i’m so gentle with you and you take me for granted. showed up mad and that’s my fault? should have just told me but that’s too much to ask.”

a sharp gasp is ripped from you when hobie rips your panties off you. the seams pop and snap under the stress of his rapid tug.

he pushes you back and down on the bed with a large hand on your chest. “to be frank, i don’t want to see you. i don’t want to hear you either unless you’re gonna tell me what the fuck is wrong with you.”

you’re tempted to protest, already preparing to draw away from him but hobie beats you to it. he pins your waist down and peels your folds apart. he licks a stripe up your cunt, spit dribbling and mixing with your juices.

you keen, back lifting off your bed. it’s sickening how his knowledge of your body is affecting you this time. usually, it would entail the best orgasm of your life but now it meant you’d be eternally suffering.

he pushes your back down with a grunt. it’s as if every little movement you did only sent hobie father off the edge.

he pushes your leg up by the underside of your thigh until your knee is pressing against your chest. hobie’s nose bumps against your clit and his tongue probs at the walls of your slit.

“fuck! that’s so – ” your scream is cut short by a gulp of air. your hand reaches down to grasp hobie’s wicks, only for him to swat you hand away.

you cum rather quickly, pussy throbbing from the stimulation. by the time you’re sitting up, hobie is staring at you with half lidded eyes. he has yet to remove his grip, lips glistening from your arousal.

neither of you speak, the air growing thicker with tension. your gaze darts between both of hobie’s peering brown eyes before you turn your head away with a huff.

the smack of hobie’s hand against your thigh rings in the air. his demands for your attention has you whining. your skin blooms with a stinging pain, only for it to be followed by another. you’re not moving fast enough for him.

only when your eyes lock does he lightly trace his fingers over your skin. hobie, however, has no plans in letting up with his lesson. he thumbs at the hood of your clit, pulling it back until the puffy bundle is nerves is revealed.

so badly does he want to coo his praise but every time he thinks about how you treated him, his heart burns just the same.

you struggle against his grasp to clamp your legs shut when he wraps his tongue around it. thanks to his hands anchoring you in place, you’re forced to endure all of it.

you twitch and tweak, hands curling around the fabric of your shirt. this is wild, you think, all to get an answer out of you. the deep, docile part of your brain is ready to do whatever he asks to get the soft touches and sweet names, again.

“ ‘bie,” you mewl, reaching out for him again.

“ready to talk?” hobie lifts his head, replacing his tongue with his thumb, performing tiny circles. he’s disappointed when he’s listening to your moans and hums instead of a explanation. how long will you continue to do this?

he drives his fingers into your cunt, a sigh fanning over you skin leaving it hot and sticky with your cum. “you’re being such a brat today. how hard is it to open your fuckin’ mouth?”

he’s relentless with it, routinely pressing his fingers against the spot that has you crying. he tunes out your warbling, sucking in a breath. “can’t believe you tried to make it about gwen knowing damn well this is your problem.”

his words go straight to your cunt. it’s unexpected, the way you tighten and gush. you’re humiliated and even more so when hobie scoffs. “no chance you’re getting off on this.”

your body tenses, coiling in on itself. your chest rises with one final heave before your cunt is spasming around his fingers. hobie doesn’t cut back, head tilted as you wail.

“why aren’t you talking to me?” he fingerfucks you past your orgasm. he’s unaffected by your squirming to get away from him, pulling you back by your waist.

“it’s too much,” you sob, hand pushing at his.

“that’s not what i asked,” hobie shoves your hand away for the second time that morning. he’s fed up. his hand pops down on your cunny, ogling at the shining cream pouring out.

“ ‘cause,” the tears spill over your waterline and cascade down your face.

“ ‘cause what?” hobie finally removes his hold on you and takes his place next to you in the bed. he pulls your putty body into his lap, a hand on your chins to direct your attention.

you sniffle, lips trembling. you’re hesitating, already knowing how he’s going to react. forming a verbal reason makes you realize how immature you’ve been.

“angel,” his voice is heavy with a warning. you can feel the heat of his fingers slot their way beneath you.

your expression immediately contorts at the feeling of your sensitive nerves being stimulated. “ ‘cause,” you scramble for words, shifting until you can no longer feel him. “i don’t know.”

his fingers find their place again, this time pushing back into you with seething annoyance. “you . . . don’t know? so you did all that ‘cause you don’t know?”

they move slowly. slow enough to draw out soft pants and keep you talking. “i –,” you hiccup, “was upset.” you find yourself chewing on your bottom lip. there is no reasonable excuse. he’s about to that find out.

“mhm,” hobie hums, still dissatisfied with your words. “and did that have anything to do with me?” he feels the answer is obvious but there’s always some gratification in hearing you say it.

your head shakes in a tiny swivel. your hands clench into fists and quiver. having being toyed with for so long, hobie could spit on your cunt and you’d cum. when he’s pressing your spot like this, you’re nearly spilling out your arousal.

“didn’t think so.” hobie pressed his lips into a firm line. he takes pity when you lean your weight against him at the feeling of his digits pump in your tight hole.

his poor girl can’t even sit up on her own. she’s having to resort to using him to hold her up. of course it’s entirely your fault but at least you admitted it.

“that’s all you head do to, love. all this is unnecessary,” hobie mumbles underneath your whimpers.

there’s a soothing hand circling your hip through your orgasm. he listens to your babbling with soft shushes and promises of relief.

all he really wanted was to get the explanation out of you. to begin the start of conversation. hobie knew he could do it. after all, you’re his sweet girl. his ray of sunshine.

when your pants turn into into soft heaves is when hobie lifts your head, held in the palm of his hand. “listen to me, ducky.” he’s firm, eyes narrowed. “never ever do that again, you hear me? you have a problem, you talk about it.”

your half lidded eyes are full of passivity and you nod. you’re resting against him, pleased when hobie’s long arms envelop you in a warm embrace. “ ‘m sorry, hobie. i really am. i didn’t mean it.”

his hands run along your spine and be pressed a kiss atop your head. “i know, dolly. i know.”

#࣪✮🕷✮⋆˙#another bad ending ughhh #but it’s done so there’s your gift c:#come get yall juice #hobie x black!reader #hobie smut #hobie brown #x black fem reader #astv hobie #x black reader #hobie x reader #x reader #hobie x y/n

370 notes · View notes

marycorcaroli · 7 months

Text

zoro and sanji with a reader who is insecure about her scars.

hurt/comfort, my fav boys.

req ♡ : hiii 🥹🩷 i don’t know if you do requests or are accepting them rn but i was wondering if u could write something for sanji and or zoro abt a reader with like scars from fighting or something and reader is insecure about them but they make reader feel better abt it 🥹 love ur blog ur stuff is soooo cute i love it i hope ur having a good day/night!!

mary ♡ : thank you for your request ! ! i enjoyed writing this so much that i even cried a little :( love your scars ! they are part of you and they make you individual 🫂💌 hope you enjoy it ! english is not my first language, i apologize for the mistakes.

rules ; masterlist.

sanji.

— he knows all about your scars and knows where you got them from. deep down, sanji wishes he could have prevented you from getting them and helped you when you needed his help and he wasn't there, and you could say he blames himself a little.

— he will notice how you look at them every time you look at them and your gaze grows dim, the sparkle in your eyes dims and your shoulders slump more and more with every exhale, you feel so bad about them and sanji is trying to help you, he will do everything in his power so that you can see the beauty in what you have.

— sanji will always be there for you when that moment comes again and you need support, he will be there for you, you don't have to worry, he will never leave you again.

— he wants you to tell him the burden you carry with you to this day, sanji will listen to you carefully, his eyes fixed on you.

"you know, sanji, they're horrible, aren't they? god, they're everywhere, i just can't live with myself because of it...i just h-" you hadn't finished your words before sanji's palms cupped your cheeks and brought them close to your face.

"let me stop you here kitten. please, i want you to know-" sanji's eyes became glassy like he was about to cry, unable to stand the way you hate yourself. "this, this and this — are you and your actions, the way you protected everyone and were brave, your heart is the strongest i've ever met, your soul is the kindest i've ever met. people appreciate you and love you, they know about your scars and they are grateful to you because you saved them and gave them a chance to live, so why don't you give yourself a chance? i'll help you, i'll be there for you, you know i'll never leave you."

— sanji has rarely ever been this sad, usually he doesn't show his emotions at all, but you make him feel so much. you made him a man with a pure soul again and gave him a chance at the love he wanted so badly and that's why he can't stand your sadness.

— he'll kiss every scar you have and say how beautiful they are.

"look, this one? oh, honey, it's so beautiful! i'll kiss it a million times, it makes you look so beautiful and even with it, you're the most beautiful person on this earth."

— he will never let you feel bad about it again, you will get the kindest words in your direction and the brightest smile from sanji, my god he will make you smile no matter what.

zoro.

— oh i think zoro is not good with his words, he is generally silent and not used to expressing his emotions, but the situation with you will not allow him to be silent. you are literally killing yourself around him and he can't do anything? his heart breaks into a thousand pieces when he sees your blank stare and all the pain in them.

— even if you say "it's okay, i'm fine" he will realize that nothing is okay, zoro knows you too well and knows the reason for your heavy sighs.

— he'll start by coming over to you and hugging you as tightly as he can and kissing your temple, trying to convey his warmth and support.

"zoro-"

— before you can say anything else, zoro's lips will join yours and give you the most tender kiss, conveying half of what he couldn't have said. pulling back to breathe a little, zoro will look deep into your eyes, where he always sees his past, present and future, and tell you what he wanted to say a long time ago.

"um, i'm not the best when i need to be, but you are very precious to me and i want you to know how much i love you. remember? you taught me to love myself and to love what i hate. i was alone, but then you came into my life and you saved me, you were the strongest, you came to me and you weren't afraid of anything, i've never met anyone like you before. you went to any lengths to get what you wanted and your scars are proof of that, because you became a leader for everyone, you led people and gave them protection, you were beaten, you fell a lot, but you always got up with your head held high and i love you for that-"

— zoro began to pant in his speech, afraid to say something too much or not to say something.

— he kisses your scars every day and runs his fingers over them, smiling at you with all his teeth so that you realize that your scars are the most beautiful and have a story behind them, you shouldn't be afraid of them or hate them.

— but also zoro will not let anyone else hurt you because of them. he will literally kill those people if they make you cry. yes you are strong but every strong man needs support and he will be yours by doing everything for you, he will go all over the earth and get you what you need if it makes you happy, he is not afraid of anything if it makes your day better.

499 notes · View notes

wholoveseggs · 3 months

Text

Indulgences

18+ ---- {Masterlist}

Part Three

As your relationship with Elijah deepens, conflict arises and you are put in an impossible situation.

5.5k words - Warnings: smutttt, red door elijah {my interpretation of him}, drug use, adult themes, domestic abuse, violence, blood drinking.

Please be aware that this part is very violent. {Part One} {Part Two} {Part Four}{Moodboard->}

Elijah kept coming back, week after week, booking the platinum suite and requesting you. Every time you entered the suite and locked eyes with him your memories came flooding back in an instant. He would lay his head in your lap and tell you his heartaches while you stroked his dark hair. You learned how he was robbed of his life a thousand years ago, and how much guilt he carries in his heart. He would speak of his family with equal love and frustration, his world tipping further into turmoil with every passing day.

You admired his heart, his humanity, his fearlessness in facing his darkness. Sometimes, on rare occasions, his vulnerability would peek through and he would confide in you about his need for control and his fear of losing it. And sometimes, even more rarely, his heart would bleed for those he had killed and will kill. They were moments of weakness that he only let you see.

You began to care for him, truly care for him, past being his private dancer, past him being your cash cow. They were times when his perfect mask slipped just a little, showing a more fragile side of him, one you knew he had carefully crafted and honed to perfection. These moments revealed to you just how human he still was, despite having spent the past one thousand years as a vampire.

One night, as you gently traced your fingers through his dark hair while he rested his head on your lap, you softly asked, "Why did you choose me?”

Elijah, his gaze fixed on the opposite wall, murmured, "The way you looked at me... there was something about your eyes, they were so..."

"What?" you whispered, the intimate moment creating a tightness in your chest.

"Alive," he whispered back. "You looked at me as if you could see straight through my mask to the inner demon beyond and didn't care."

"I do see straight through you," you teased.

Elijah smirked, then averted his eyes. It was painfully evident to anyone who met him that beneath the facade of a perfect gentleman in tailored suits, a dark turmoil simmered within him, a side he struggled to keep subdued.

He sat up and ran his hands through his hair, as though trying to compose himself, and returned his gaze to yours.

"Do you like this job? Does it make you happy?" he asked curiously.

"Not happy, but it helps me survive." You replied honestly.

"If there was a way for you to never have to do this job again, would you take it?" Elijah asked seriously, studying you intently.

"It's complicated, this is my only way to earn money and stay afloat, I can't imagine life without it," you explained, a bit confused by his line of questions.

"If you had a choice," Elijah started, leaning in closer.

You sighed, borderline amused by how cliche he was being. It must have shown on your face because the side of Elijah's mouth twitched, and he continued.

"Would you want to leave with me, leave all of this, escape to a better place?" His question made your stomach lurch, and you sat up straighter, heart pounding. You weren't a fool; you had heard this offer from a few clients before. They all craved the fantasy of having a stripper for a girlfriend while playing the white knight, rescuing her from what they deemed a shameful profession. As you stared at Elijah for a long moment, sizing him up and searching his eyes, you realized he was different. Unlike the other men who made similar offers, Elijah possessed the power to fulfill his proposition—a considerable amount of power, so much that it left you feeling unsettled.

"I'd say take me to your kingdom," you jested, wearing a playful expression, not revealing any clear intention to go with him.

He gave you a searching look and leaned towards you, hands on either side of your hips, pinning you to the couch. "Say the word, and we leave this instant," he murmured, a conspiratorial glint in his eyes.

"I'm not a fantasy, handsome. I'm a person with a life outside of this place, one you know nothing about," you remarked quietly.

"Then tell me," Elijah asked, the atmosphere around you intensifying, his gaze transforming into a look that pinned you down in more ways than one.

Running your fingers through your hair, you chewed the inside of your cheek, torn about whether revealing the truth would shift the power balance. The mysterious allure you carefully maintained gave you control over clients, resulting in higher tips. However, a part of you hesitated, not wanting Elijah to view you solely as a mystery. You longed for him to see the real you—a human with flaws and struggles like everyone else—rather than getting entangled in the fantasy of you.

"I'd rather not," you said firmly.

"Do you have terrible dark secrets?" He teased light heartedly, not daring to take his eyes away from yours.

"This," you said, gesturing around the room, "is not about me,"

You resisted this glimmer of hope, this tempting fantasy. Reality held you captive, you had troubles and responsibilities that hadn't magically disappeared just because Elijah walked in and requested to see you specifically.

"I disagree," he said gently, cupping your chin, turning your face to meet his. "It's very much about you. I would have never returned to this place if you weren't here,"

You blinked back the stinging feeling behind your eyes, and reached out and grabbed his tie, pulling him close so you were face to face.

"Exactly darling, it's all about you," you murmured, brushing your lips against his.

"That's not what I meant," Elijah whispered, but let you deepen the kiss regardless.

"Isn't it though?" you teased, sliding out from under him, standing up.

"This is where our night comes to an end, handsome," you announced, extending your hand out to him.

He grasped your outstretched hand, his dark brown eyes focused on you, and pulled you down until you were straddling him. You let out a soft gasp of surprise, your hands automatically resting on his chest.

"One more kiss," Elijah murmured, his voice muffled as he nuzzled your neck.

You gave a low laugh, tilting your head back, exposing your neck to him. You could feel his breath on your skin, warm and even, sending a thrill through your whole body. You closed your eyes, letting yourself get lost in the sensation of his touch.

His hands traveled up your thighs, until they reached your hips, his thumbs hooking under the straps of your g-string. The heat from his fingers caused a blush to rise on your cheeks and your heart to beat faster.

"May I touch you?" Elijah asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your breath hitched in your throat, your body tensing at the thought of him being intimate with you. This wasn't allowed, Mitch would fire you on the spot. No sleeping with clients. It was his number one rule. Mostly because the club would lose its license.

But you didn't care about any of that, all that mattered was Elijah. You wanted him to touch you, to bring you pleasure. You wanted him to take you away from the pain and sadness, if only for a little while. You swallowed thickly and nodded your head in consent.

Elijah's eyes darkened with lust, his hand sliding between your legs, fingers grazing your damp panties. You bit back a moan, your hands gripping his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. He continued his gentle teasing, his fingers rubbing circles against your clit, watching your responses.

"You are so lovely," he murmured, kissing your neck.

You whimpered softly, arching your back, pushing your breasts against his chest. You wanted more, needed more. You wanted him to make you forget everything except his touch.

He dipped two fingers into your aching core, a breathy moan escaping your lips. You clenched around him, your head swimming with desire. He moved his fingers in and out of you, curling them ever so slightly. He brought his thumb up and traced small circles against your clit. You gasped, your eyes fluttering closed, your climax swiftly approaching.

"That's it, beautiful," Elijah whispered, nipping at your ear.

You came undone, the tension in your body melting away, your hips bucking against his hand. You felt a sharp pain in your neck as he sunk his fangs into your skin. Your legs trembled as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you, your breathing ragged, your skin slick with sweat. He continued to stroke you, his movements drawing out your orgasm until you were a trembling mess.

He let out a low groan, pulling his mouth away from your neck, blood smeared on his lips. His eyes were completely black, dark veins snaking down his cheeks.

You gently ran your fingertips over his cheeks, marveling at the creature that lurked beneath the mask of a gentleman. He was breathtakingly beautiful and terrifyingly deadly. Your touch was enough to calm him and his features returned to their human appearance.

He pulled his fingers from you and brought them to his mouth, licking away your arousal with a predatory growl.

You giggled and leaned in, brushing your lips against his. His hands rested on your hips, his grip tightening. He returned the kiss, a sweet yet heated one that took your breath away.

"We shouldn't have done that," you whispered, a faint blush creeping up your cheeks.

"Why not? Did you not enjoy yourself?" Elijah questioned, his eyes full of concern.

"No, no it's not that, I...I mean, we're not allowed to have sex with the clients," you confessed, embarrassed by your admission.

"Do you still see me as just a client?" He asked with a raised brow.

"No, but Mitch will. I'll lose my job." You mumbled, biting your bottom lip.

He ran his fingers through your hair and cupped your chin, his eyes boring into yours. "Then come with me," he murmured, his lips ghosting against yours.

You closed your eyes and rested your forehead against his, taking a deep breath. You wanted to say yes, you really did, but the reality was still there. He kisses you again, gently biting on his lip, the taste of his blood making your skin tingle. You felt the sting of the bite mark on your neck fade, and you pulled back. His fingers traced the area where the wound was, his eyes slightly far away.

"I’m sorry," he murmured, his brow furrowing in concern.

"Why?" You asked, your heart skipping a beat.

"I didn't ask for your permission," he explained, his jaw clenched.

You placed your palm on his chest, feeling his heart beating beneath your fingers, soothing the storm inside of him. "It's fine," you reassured him.

His expression softened and he smiled at you, the love and affection in his gaze filling you with warmth. You never had anyone look at you like that before and you found yourself wishing that the moment would never end, but reality set in.

"Time to go, darling." He said quietly, his breath fanning over your face. "You won't remember this until you see me again,"

You kissed him one last time and rose off his lap, swaying on your heels. You could feel his eyes on you as you stretched lazily, earning his appreciation.

"Have a good night, handsome." you murmured, teasingly blowing him a kiss as you strutted out the door.

You sat in the dressing room, looking down at the stack of hundreds on your lap. Once again confused on how you made that much. You couldn't remember a single detail of your time with the wealthy client in the platinum suite, it unnerved you. You wondered if the molly was strong enough to block out your memory and leave you totally empty.

"I hope your not fucking suit guy," Stacy remarked, walking by your chair, admiring herself in the mirror, a dark purple silk robe draped loosely around her body.

"I'm not." You assured her, shoving the hundred dollar bills back into your bag.

"You better not be, Mitch would fire you so fast, not to mention Jordan would be devastated," she remarked, a smirk on her face.

"I don't do that," you repeated, watching her change her attitude.

"There's an exception to every rule," Stacy remarked, pursing her red stained lips and applying another coat of lipstick.

"I'm not a cheater. Elijah is just a wealthy client who likes to talk, you know the type," you said with a shrug.

"Elijah," Stacy echoed, laughing. "You're on a first name basis with him? God, you might as well be fucking him," she taunted, raising her brows at you.

"Fuck off, Stacy," you snapped, glowering at her, refusing to let her get a rise out of you.

Jordan walked in, his usual friendly expression on his face, an extra spark in his eyes, and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close. He pressed his lips to your cheek in greeting.

"How's my baby?" he asked cheerfully.

"Good," you mumbled, quickly moving your bag out of sight.

"Hiii Jordy," Stacy sang, batting her eyelashes at him.

He flashed her a quick grin before turning his attention back to you. You could feel the knot in your stomach slowly untying itself, he was in a good mood today.

"Let's go get dinner, I know this great bar near here," Jordan said eagerly, his hands cupping your face, his thumbs stroking your cheeks.

You gave a half hearted smile, nodding your head. You would rather go home to a quiet apartment but you knew better than to spoil his mood with your defiance.

"Sounds fun," you murmured, forcing a smile.

Jordan and you walked out of the club, his arm wrapped around your shoulder. He glanced down at you, his face still carrying a smile, but his eyes holding a warning.

"You okay baby?" He asked.

"Tired," you replied simply, hoping it would be enough to explain your earlier behavior. "Is it okay if we just go home?"

"No! It's Friday, and I need time with my girl," he practically whined, as he guided you to his car.

Your heart sank at the tone in his voice, knowing very well he wouldn't take no for an answer. It was a game he played to get you to do what he wanted and give him an excuse to fight later, usually for being stubborn or a stuck up bitch.

"My shift was so long," you mumbled.

He shoved you into the passengers seat, closing the door before you could reach the handle. He got into the drivers side and turned the key, a sly smirk on his face. He grabbed your wrist, squeezing it tightly, his nails biting into your skin, he leaned in, his lips next to your ear.

"Why is it so hard to please you baby?" he whispered, his tone seething.

You stared at him, keeping your face neutral, dread churning in your stomach. You could feel the bruises beginning to form on your wrist, his anger slowly rising. He squeezed even tighter and you winced, a strangled cry leaving your lips. He let go of your wrist and slipped his hand between your legs, inching his fingers to your mound, squeezing roughly.

"This belongs to me, baby. How many times do I have to remind you that you're mine?" Jordan sneered, tightening his hold on you.

You squeezed your eyes shut, tears burning behind your eyes, and looked away, trying to detach yourself from the situation.

"You're right, I'm sorry," you murmured, shrinking away from him.

"Damn straight," he said, releasing his grip on you and turning his attention to the road, "Dinner and drinks at Rousseaus, you’ll love it."

You gave a stiff nod, trying to ignore the fear and anger in your heart.

Rousseau's was more crowded than you expected, but you both managed to find a table. You sat and waited while Jordan got drinks.

Other men always looked at you, wherever you went, it always made you uncomfortable. Especially so when you were with Jordan, his jealousy could cause an explosion at any moment. You wished he hadn't insisted on coming to the bar tonight, there was a feeling in your gut that told you something was going to go wrong.

When he returned with the drinks his mood had dramatically shifted, his eyes darting around the room as he slid into his seat next to you.

You picked at your finger nails, chipping away at the paint, and scooted your chair a few inches away from his. You could feel his eyes on you, seething with jealousy, his fists clenched so tight his knuckles turned white.

"Maybe we should go," you suggested, shooting him a wary look.

"We just got here and I ain't done drinking," he replied, placing his hand on your knee, caressing your skin with his fingertips.

"Okay," you said in a small voice, lifting your eyes to meet his gaze.

He brought his hand up to your face, lightly brushing the pad of his thumb across your cheekbone. You could tell by the look in his eyes that something wasn't right.

"Stacy was telling me something very interesting about you," he whispered, his voice dripping with suspicion.

"Oh?" You asked, feigning innocence, heart beginning to race.

"Yeah," Jordan mused, gently tracing a pattern on your skin. "She told me how you kept having one on ones in the platinum suite. Absolutely raking in the tips. Does that sound like something you're familiar with?" His words were soft, but his voice was harsh.

Your stomach dropped at his question, realizing what he was getting at. You stared back at him blankly, trying to formulate a response. You thought about lying to him, you were a good liar, you did it everyday of your life. Jordan was visibly seething, but he wouldn't do anything to you in public, so you kept your guard up just in case.

"I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about, babe," you said in the sweetest, yet most patronizing tone, grabbing his hand in yours, squeezing it reassuringly.

He narrowed his eyes at you and took another sip of his drink. Your stomach turned, you knew he wasn't finished, this was far from over.

"If I find out you're lying to me," he started, his voice menacing. "I'll kill you."

The color drained from your face, fear coursing through your veins. You wanted to bolt out the door, run for your life, anything to get away from him, but you didn't. You looked away from his terrifying eyes, holding back the tears that were threatening to spill.

That's when you saw him, sitting near the window, watching you intently. Elijah.

The reality of his existence hit you like a swift blow. He was a vampire. He had bared his heart and soul to you. Just hours ago, you had been in his embrace, experiencing pleasure as he fed off you. Then he would erase the memory from your mind, leaving you oblivious to what he truly was. He offered you a knowing smile, his dark eyes piercing into yours. Your cheeks flushed red as you looked away. Despite everything, a part of you yearned to run to him, to forget about the monster lurking beside you.

"Excuse me for a second," you whispered, letting go of Jordan’s hand and sliding your seat back.

"Where the fuck are you going?" Jordan snapped, his grip on your knee tightening, his fingers digging painfully into your skin.

"Just the bathroom," you muttered, struggling to keep your composure.

He gave you a steely look, before releasing your knee. You gathered your purse and rose to your feet and without glancing back at him, headed for the bathroom.

You felt Elijah's presence behind you when you got to the hallway. Fear churned inside you like a whirlpool, as you turned to face him, not completely sure what you would say to him.

"It's not a good time for a talk," you said in a low voice, opening the door to the ladies room, hoping Elijah would get the hint.

"You seem distressed," he said quietly, concern clear in his voice.

"Come in, you can't be out here with me," you whispered, tugging on his hand, pulling him into the bathroom.

You checked to make sure the coast was clear and locked the door, feeling Elijah's eyes following you.

"Is that your boyfriend?" He teased in a gentle tone, clasping his hands in front of him, subtly checking you out.

"Yes," you said softly, leaning against the counter, staring down at the floor.

"Is he why you won't run away with me?," Elijah asked, taking a tentative step towards you.

You felt the knot in your stomach tighten, as he placed his hands on the counter, boxing you in between him and the sink.

"Among other things," you replied evasively, tilting your head up, your gaze resting on his.

"Name one of them," he purred, bringing his hand up to your hair, twirling a stray strand around his finger.

"You've messed with my memories, Elijah. When I'm not around you, I don't remember our time together; I’m frightened of you," you admitted, your body stiffening. "I blame it on the drugs I take, I get anxious about my mental health," you trailed off, feeling shame rising in your throat. "But then I'm with you and..I feel calm, I feel safe, like you'd protect me. And, it scares me, this emotional whiplash is taking its toll,”

"I'm sorry for frightening you, that wasn't my intention," he said gently, his hands lifting to rest on your hips, gently lifting you onto the counter.

"Everything is... complicated, Elijah," you murmured, running your fingers through your hair, trying to muster an answer.

"I know," he murmured, leaning in and kissing your neck, causing goosebumps to erupt on your skin. “I won't compel you anymore, my dear, I trust you,”

You closed your eyes, inhaling his wonderful scent, it made your stomach flutter with butterflies. This didn't feel real, you hadn't felt this happy in so long, it was surreal.

Your hands went to his chest, feeling the solid muscle beneath your palms, and his lips met yours. The kiss was soft, affectionate, and full of meaning. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer, never wanting to let go.

"You don't love him do you?," Elijah whispered in your ear, trailing his finger down your jaw.

"No," You breathed, shaking your head, grasping the lapels of his suit. "I couldn't, I try, I have for years, but I just can't,"

He hummed his agreement and kissed you with more passion than you'd experienced with any man before. You could feel his desire, his urgency, and you craved him. Your fingers buried themselves in his hair, letting out a soft gasp when his hands slipped under your dress, gently kneading your thighs.

"No, we can't, not with Jordan here," you rasped, reluctantly pushing his hands away. "Please don't. If he suspects something..." You whispered, trailing off, swallowing hard.

Elijah glanced down at your hands on his chest, his brow furrowing as he noticed your bruised and swollen wrist.

"You're hurt," he observed, examining the marks on your skin, his expression a strange mixture of anger and concern.

"It's fine," You reassured him, trying to pull away from his grip, "just forget about it. Really, I'm ok,"

"He hurt you," Elijah insisted, frowning.

"I had an attitude with him," You mumbled, yanking your arm back, and cradling your wrist in your lap, and nervously twisting the hem of your dress in your fingers.

"Y/n," he said softly. "This isn't the first time he's hurt you is it?"

You looked up at him through tear filled eyes, your mask of composure finally slipping.

"No," you said in a small voice.

"How long has he done this to you?" He asked in a low voice, cupping your face in his palms.

"Years," you choked, no longer able to hold in your emotions, tears trickling down your face. You felt such pure humiliation, embarrassment that Elijah had seen such weakness in you.

"I have to go," you stammered, rubbing your eyes and sniffling.

"You don't have to leave," Elijah insisted, bringing your face up to look at him. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

You froze at his question, wondering what kind of answer he wanted.

"It ruins the fantasy," you said with a dry laugh, trying to brush it off as some stupid joke.

Elijah furrowed his brow at you, looking shocked at your response.

"Do you think I judge you? See you as just a stripper?" He asked earnestly, all of his usual confidence dissipating.

You shook your head, not trusting yourself to speak, but not daring to lie to him, watching him through watery eyes.

"I told you about my life, my father, the torment he put my family through, how could I judge you?," Elijah asked, lowering his face to yours, our lips inches apart, his scent flooding your senses.

"I don't know," you whispered, keeping your gaze fixed on his, savoring his kindness.

"We'll get through this," Elijah whispered in your ear. "Together."

"I have to go," you whispered, before the weight of what he said could sink in.

"Walk out with me, you never have to be near him again," Elijah begged.

"No, please, it'll make everything worse," You pleaded, sliding off the counter. "Don't give me hope, I can't handle hope."

"Y/n," Elijah began, sounding exasperated.

"I'll see you at the club, okay? Goodbye." you said quietly, before he could protest anymore, leaving the bathroom.

Tears filled your eyes as you walked through the bar, taking slow deep breaths to calm yourself. Jordan was still sitting at the table, looking extremely impatient. You tried to ignore the unsettling feeling in your gut as you sat down. He swirled the liquid in his glass, his expression blank.

"Took you long enough, what were you doing in there?" Jordan sneered, pinning you with his icy glare.

You could now remember everything about Elijah, how he made you feel, all those hours together in the platinum suite. Everything. And now here, looking at Jordan, your abuser, the man who took so much from you, was such a contrast that it was almost unbearable. You were revolted by his very presence.

"I just needed a moment to myself, you know? After what you said about killing me," You forced a tight smile, taking a sip of your cocktail, your throat had never been drier.

Jordan scoffed, his features darkening with annoyance. "Let's go, this bar fucking sucks," he snarled, slamming his empty glass down on the table, rose to his feet and swiped his keys off the table.

You took the last sip of your drink and reached into your purse, pulling out your wallet. You felt his hand rest on your arm, you were almost paralyzed with fear.

"What the fuck is that?" Jordan snarled, looking at the tips you earned from Elijah earlier.

You swallowed thickly, completely taken aback, you had no idea what to do.

"I... I got a bonus today," you said in a feeble tone.

Jordan stared down at the money, completely enraged. "Stacy was right wasn't she? You've been fucking that rich asshole," he whispered, his fist closing around your arm, dragging you to your feet.

He quickly guided you through the crowd and outside the bar, pulling you towards the nearby alley. Your mind reeled with panic, realizing what was happening. Your legs no longer functioned as he dragged you behind the building.

"Baby, let's go back inside, I don't understand what's going on," you pleaded, trying to regain composure.

"I asked you a question. Tell me," Jordan growled, his fingertips dug into your arm painfully.

"It was a bonus," you snapped.

His fist connected with your face in a sudden and violent burst of rage. The impact was so intense it dazed you, the air being knocked out of your lungs as you tried to keep your footing.

"I know you're fucking some gangster and keeping all the tips for yourself," he shouted, his hands wrapping around your throat, forcing you against the wall.

Your hands scrambled for his, trying to pry his fingers off, his grip squeezing tighter as the lack of air made your vision blur.

"I asked you nicely and you have the nerve to fucking lie to me? That just shows me that you don't love me at all," he yelled, rage boiling in his veins, his grip nearly crushing your windpipe.

"Please..." you whispered, through ragged gasps for breath.

"I've done nothing but take care of you since we met and this is how you repay me?" He shouted, his grip tightening even more, your entire body struggling to get oxygen, tears pricking at the back of your eyes.

You brought your knee up as hard as you could to his groin. Jordan groaned and doubled over, loosening his grip enough to allow you to wrench yourself free.

You began to run in the direction of the street, wanting to get as far away from him as possible. But he caught up, grabbing your hair and forcing you to the ground. You cried out in pain as he landed on top of you, his hands roaming all over your body as he held you down, squeezing every inch of skin he could grab.

"Shh, shh, don't scream baby, don't scream," he hushed you, slapping his hand over your mouth. "It's okay I forgive you."

"Get off of me!" You cried, as he frantically tugged on your dress. He didn't waste another second, gripping your jaw tightly, his fingers digging in painfully.

"You think I'd let you cheat on me and get away with it?" Jordan gritted out, his hands wrapping around your throat again, increasing the pressure. Your screams were only barely audible now, your vision starting to fade, everything slowly turning black.

Suddenly there was no weight on your chest. You gasped for air, taking desperate shallow breaths, looking up at Elijah who was pinning Jordan to the wall by the throat. Elijah's eyes were completely black, gray veins stretched out under his eyes.

"Do you know what it feels like to be unable to breathe?" He growled, his grip tightening, Jordan's face turning a ghastly shade of blue. "The fear, the terror that overwhelms your body. To know that no matter how hard you fight, you're going to die?"

Jordan's eyes bulged in fear, his hands clutching at his throat, trying to get away.

"You were going to kill her, weren't you?" Elijah seethed, his voice trembling with rage.

"Please... I'm sorry," Jordan wheezed, his voice barely audible.

"She begged for mercy and you ignored her, why should I show you the same courtesy?" Elijah asked, in an eerily calm tone.

Jordan's eyes widened as he struggled against Elijah, desperately trying to loosen the vampire's grip.

"Cockroach," he snarled, his fingers curling tighter around his neck, lifting him up, Jordan's feet no longer touching the ground. "Be still."

"No... no," Jordan squealed pathetically, "what are you?"

Elijah pulled Jordan's face close to his, Jordan's limbs thrashing at his sides, trying to pry away the iron grip on his neck. Elijah gave him a sinister smile, his fangs gleaming in the dim light.

"Death," Elijah whispered, before swiftly snapping his neck.

The blood drained from your face, your head spinning, everything feeling as if it was happening in slow motion. His body fell to the ground with a heavy thud, an unnatural twist to his neck, Jordan's life no longer there.

You felt your heart stop, like someone had thrust a knife through your chest, you almost couldn't breathe. He was dead. Gone. A part of you was happy, euphoric even, he would never touch you again, hit you again, torture you any more. You never felt any pleasure when you were with him, the man was your prison, he had no redeeming qualities and yet, the scars still remained.

Elijah knelt in front of you, pulling off his suit jacket and draping it across your shoulders. Your hands were numb as they slipped through the holes, holding it shut in the front.

"We can't leave him like that," you whispered, staring at Jordan's body, slumped against the brick.

"I'll handle it," Elijah murmured. "Can you stand?"

You nodded, rising on unsteady feet, grateful when he wrapped his arms around you, supporting you as you stumbled. He picked you up bridal style and carried you to his car, quickly setting you down in the passenger seat.

"Do you wish for me to take you home?" Elijah asked gently, seeing that you'd retreated inside of yourself, staring into the distance.

"No." you said hoarsely, resting your head against the glass.

He didn't seem surprised, opening the door, slipping inside and starting the car. His hand rested on your knee, drawing lazy circles on the bare skin, the effect was soothing and you closed your eyes, taking slow steady breaths.

"My home it is, then.”

{Part One} {Part Two} {Part Four}{Moodboard->}

PS: There will be a part four -xo

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

♡ @gorgeouslydangerous ♡ @starkleila ♡ @lydia1369sworld ♡ @notleylaaa ♡ @vervain3 ♡ @vamprium ♡ @myanmy ♡ @xflowerbombxo ♡ @maryvibess ♡ @always-and-forever-daydreaming ♡ @criminallminds ♡ @theesexystallion ♡ @rosemarypotion ♡ @spnaquakindgdom ♡ @amournoir ♡

#elijah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson smut #the originals #the vampire diaries #tvdu #vampire diaries #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikealson imagine #elijah mikealson #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikealson x reader #tvd #the vampire diaries x you #the vampire diaries x reader #the vampire diares imagine #the vampire diaries imagine #the originals imagine

227 notes · View notes

sleepyangelkami · 3 months

Text

ROOFTOP SHENANIGANS .vi

☆ WORD COUNT - 2.3K

VI (ARCANE) X FEM!READER

☆ SUMMARY - vi has been staying with you in your big fancy uppercity house while on the run, one night you both take an exciting trip onto the rooftop while avoiding the 'exquisite ball' beneath you both, organised by your parents, of course.

☆ WARNINGS - fluff, petnames, arcane!universe but slightly different, mentions of men, kissing, mentions of rich/upper class reader, mention of reader being 'small', multiple mentions of reader having a mom, use of 'good girl' in a domestic (not smutty) way, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

you should be at the party downstairs.

it felt like every second week that your parents were throwing another party. although, they didn't particularly want to call it that. they'd call it a ball, force everyone to get into these big puffy dresses or intricately designed suits. the first five minutes would be alright but soon enough you'd get bored of your parents' business talk with the old folk.

this time, though, you were spending your saturday night in your bedroom, clad in your silky white pijamas instead. vi sat across from you, just aching to get out of this room. and truly, you couldn't blame her.

vi had been on the run for quite some time now. once she got out of stillwater prison, the first place she went was to you. you'd told her where your fancy house was situated beforehand and besides, it wasn't as if it were hard to miss. when the drenched girl arrived at your door in the pouring rain with blood smeared on her face, you couldn't exact turn her away. not that you wanted to. you had to say, smuggling a 'criminal' into your house and keeping them there even though they were wanted was an... experience to say the least.

your parents had no idea, of course, and they never could. they were big councillors and 'your actions would reflect on them and blah, blah, blah.' you'd heard the story a thousand times over. and that was when you weren't standing properly so you could only imagine what they'd have to say about smuggling a wanted criminal.

"uhm, vi?" you questioned, her voice airy. somehow, the girl had manged to persuade you to follow her outside. only downfall, your bedroom was situated on the highest floor of the building.

the cotton candy haired girl looked at you with a chuckle falling from her lips. "here, gimme your hand." and you didn't have to be told twice.

vi was many things. she lived on the dangerous side whereas you liked to keep to yourself, always doing your best to hide in a shadow. you were the type of girl that didn't want to be looked at, vi was the type to not care whose eyes were on her. and somehow, these personalities mixed just a little to well and suddenly she was coercing you onto the rooftop.

your white socks began to get a little dirty by the way you found your feet padding against the wall. you climbed up with her hand in yours and suddenly your back end was sitting atop the roof.

you'd never been up this high in general let alone at your own home.

"pretty, isn't it?" the girl mumbled as she leaned in a little closer, there was a smirk on her scarred lips, lifting them up and curving them.

beneath you, your eyes were strained on the carpet that led people inside your house. you could see carriages with horses driving into your driveway. it was a sight to see, men and women in suits and dresses, all looking much too fancy to be taking a trip to your house. the light from the house hung in the midnight air, shining and emitting a yellowish hue onto the grass.

you hummed, your lips in a straight line. "you're prettier." you teased causing the girl to roll her pretty eyes. only she didn't take them back down, she found her eyes staring up at the midnight sky above you both. "you like stars?" you questioned, assuming she had an interest or something given the fact that her eyes seemed awfully strained on something in the sky. perhaps she knew constellations and what the little shapes meant. you never bothered yourself to learn it.

"no." she spoke, still studying the night sky. "jus' been a while since i've seen that many stars." vi was in prison for a long time. you knew she was innocent, she didn't deserve the place that she got but unfortunately all the money in the world couldn't get someone to listen to you. not a corrupt government like piltover. you hummed once more, letting your head fall on her shoulder. "tired, cupcake?"

nodding your head, you fought off a yawn. you could hear her coo as her hand came down to your own, her fingers gently interlocking with yours. to others, she may seem like the brooding, dangerous girl she was thought to be. but with you? she was as gentle as a butterfly. "you're so warm." you mumbled, nuzzling your way into her.

"you're so cute." she retaliated, watching as you flushed, rolling your eyes with your lips in a tight smile. her eyes glanced back up to the little stars dotted around the sky. "you know, you're kind of like a star."

with a tired pout, you placed your head on her shoulder, looking up at her with those big doey eyes. "how?" people had compared you to many things in your days, but a star? not so much.

"cause." she shrugged her shoulders. as embarrassed as she was to get the words out, she still couldn't fight off that tight lipped smile on her face. "you're like... lighting up the darkest skies." she watched as your face changed a little, not in a bad way, a way of endearment, a pout stretched across your lips. "and, you know." she coughed, attempting to defuse any tension. "you're... small."

you shook your head, stifling a giggle. "you were doin' so well." and she just had to ruin it with her joke, not that vi could ever ruin anything, you were sure.

the sound of mellow music hit your ears. it was low but due to how loud your mother always seemed to blare the music, you were still able to hear it even from your place on the roof. you'd given the lame excuse of not feeling right which is the only reason your mother had left you stay in your bedroom. and as grateful as you were to spend time with vi, you couldn't help but miss the music. it was this song in particular that was your favourite.

any other night, you'd be in the centre of the dance floor. you'd be dancing with someone, no doubt, you didn't care who, man or woman, elderly or one of the kids. but when this song played, everyone in piltover knew to make room. "love this song." you mumbled, hiding your hands in the silk of your pijamas. it was still awfully cold, especially when you were sitting atop of a roof.

vi hummed in thought. she'd heard you play this song many times, she was no stranger to your infatuation with the song. your eyes watched as she moved from you, standing up on the roof. she laid a hand out for you to take to which you merely awkwardly stared. "oh come on. i dragged you all the way from your fancy ball. the least i can do is dance with you to your favourite song." your heart swelled. "will you dance with me, angel?"

and how could you refuse someone so... unearthly? you stood with a giggle, placing your hand in her own.

she helped you get up swiftly.

you breathed a shaky breath before glancing down. it seemed like a good idea at first but it wasn't as if the rooftop was exactly straight. it was still slanted, off to the side as you did your best to hold yourself up. you could say that grace wasn't your thing. but that didn't matter, for in seconds you could feel warm hands on your hips, holding you upright. "careful, cupcake."

you attempted at everything to wipe the smile off your face and failed, of course. "my knight in shining armour." you murmured jokingly, one of her hands moving up to hold one of yours. your free hand came down to sit on her shoulder. "you know how to dance?"

and by the looks of it, she did. her feet moved before you, stepping in, stepping out, she moved so elegantly, so softly. it seemed as though she'd lived on a dance floor. you'd danced with many people in your life, no one had ever compared to vi. "'course, elegance is my middle name." she murmured against your skin.

you giggled as she spun you out, her arm in the air as you twirled. you couldn't stop the sounds from your mouth, pure ecstasy filling your veins and your cheeks by the feeling of the heat that had rose to them.

vi too wore a smile, as big as anything as her pearly whites were on wide display for you to see. your eyes trailed from her own sapphire ones to the tattoo sitting beneath it, decorating her skin beautifully. she pulled you close then, holding her face near yours as she swayed your bodies. "if you were at the ball, would you be dancing with some guy now? some... councillor kid or something?"

you tried to huff out your laugh. vi, in all her glory, jealousy and insecurity seeping into her veins. "vi..." you stopped dancing, though she was still holding you close. the only difference was now you could see her face. "you're all that matters to me." fingers gently twisting the bubblegum locks. "not the balls my mom throws, not the 'princes' i get the pleasure of dancing with, not the money, not the... lifestyle. you. i'd trade the entire city of piltover for you in a heartbeat."

she looked down at you with those lovey eyes, the ones that showed you she knew you were telling the truth. "you're a real idiot, cupcake."

you shrugged, smile on your lips. "that's okay." you mumbled. "you can do the thinking for me."

she couldn't help it. you were so close, the aura was so sweet, gentle light flooding from the windows and doors of the house and the soft music from the ballroom. and you looked so pretty. her fingers brushed the side of your cheek, pulling your face closer to hers.

you didn't fight it, in fact, you melted into her. you felt her soft lips on yours and you kissed back, just as gently. there was something about the way her hands held you, as though you were glass and she was being careful not to break. she'd beg to differ. not glass, more like a painting. you were a beautiful painting and she was holding you so close, engulfing you because she knew ugly people liked to ruin beautiful things. she couldn't risk letting anyone attempt to toss their hands near your heart.

at some point in the night, the music lowered itself, then it was but a hum and suddenly, there was no music at all.

you and vi still sat atop the roof, bodies close as you peered out at everyone who left for their carriages. you commented on a couple people you knew, explaining them to vi. "is he nice?" truth was, she didn't really know anyone in the uppercity.

you shrugged your shoulders. "I don' really know, he smells kind of funny." listening to the way she chuckled against your skin. truth was, you didn't really care for anyone in the uppercity. "'s getting really late." you commented, yawning again. you knew it was getting late for people were going home and god knows your mom didn't throw balls just to end them early. "you comin' to bed?"

she glanced to you, watching your slightly watery eyes from yawning so much, big and doey, ready for sleep. "I'll be a couple minutes, sweetheart. you to bed, alright? i'll be down soon."

and for a sleepy you, it was enough. you nodded your head and bidded your farewell to the girl you loved more than your entire being.

at some point in that night, you'd managed to get yourself into bed, snuggling up against your covers and allowing them to completely engulf you. you had your fists near your chin, holding the blanket close and your eyes shut closed, light breaths leaving them. all this stressing and keeping vi a secret was so tiring, exhausting even, but you wouldn't change it for the world.

you were in and out of sleep, almost as if your body was waiting for her to come back into the room.

the sound of the window closing shut was enough to alert your body. "vi?" your voice all croaky and full of sleep.

vi had swung in the window as if she were spiderman himself. "i'm here baby." she mumbled, kicking off her boots. obviously, she'd been more prepared for the night on the roof than you had. she climbed into your big bed from behind you, her arms immediately reaching out for you. she watched as you turned around, arms grasping around her neck. "why're you still awake?" she mumbled. she'd spent at least another hour out on the roof but she'd assumed by your sleepy eyes that you'd been ready to knock out then and there. she wasn't going to be the one to keep you awake.

you sniffed against her chest, hugging yourself close. her scent was enough to have you sighing in relief for her to be back in your arms. "can't sleep right without you here." your body and mind had grown awfully attached to the cotton candy haired girl.

"you're so cute." she cooed at you, pressing a kiss to your scalp. "go to sleep, sweet girl, i'll be here in the morning." she could feel you relaxing against her chest, eyes screwing themselves shut. "good girl." she mumbled, pulling the blankets above you.

"g'night, vi." your tired whisper barely reaching her ears.

so sweet. "goodnight, cupcake."

main masterlist/vi's masterlist

186 notes · View notes

myouicieloz · 4 months

Text

Alcohol teacher

Kim Minjeong x Yoo Jimin

Synopsis: “My face immediately turned red, but I wasn’t drunk, though. I also had my first soju with Jimin unnie, my alcohol teacher.” — Kim Minjeong.

Warnings: dom!karina x sub!winter. you know the deal babes, lots of plot with a little smut in it. drinking, nsfw, drunk (public?) sex.

Word count: 2k

Notes: I’ve never had soju in my life. enjoy ˆˆ n gimme feedback we barely talk anymore :(

“You look too skilled doing this.” Minjeong says, watching quietly as Karina pours a small amount of liquid into two shot glasses. It doesn’t seem like much, which leaves Minjeong annoyed. She doesn’t want Karina going easy on her, even if it is indeed her first time drinking.

Her judgmental look is no strange thing to Jimin, who merely shrugs and continues her task. She smiles at Minjeong once she’s done, nose scrunching with how much she’s enjoying the situation. When Winter had gone to her and mentioned she wanted to have a night out for drinks, so she’d try them out for the first time, Karina felt like she was in heaven. The first thing she did once she woke up was to book reservations, so the whole bar would be left alone for them— this way, Minjeong would be the most comfortable to experience the drinks, and no crazy fan would bash them for being grown women drinking.

“So,” She begins her explanation, ignoring the younger girl’s irritated tone. “We’ll start simple. Here, there’s vodka. We’ll drink it all at once: it’s as easy as that.” Bringing her cup near her mouth, Karina gestures for Minjeong to do the same. Which she does, after eyeing the raven-haired girl suspiciously. “On three, ok? One, two…”

Karina’s hands gently hover over Minjeong’s chin, turning the cup upwards so the liquid flows over Winter’s throat. Karina’s fingers linger even after the cup is left empty, her touch igniting the younger girl’s skin.

Vodka burns— it tastes like fire, washing through your cells until it hits your esophagus and threatens to back its way back, clearly not welcomed. It’s an unpleasant sensation, to say the least.

Yet, the only feeling Minjeong’s brain acknowledges are Karina’s delicate hands, now tracing her collarbone. She decides, then, that her bandmate’s touches are worse than a thousand vodka doses.

“So? What’d you think?” Karina asks, eager to know Minjeong’s opinion. She bounces like a puppy, moving as much as the booth they’re seated at allows her to.

Minjeong nods, running her hands through her face to spread the flush that lingers stubbornly on her cheeks. She feels on fire; _distracted_, which is unlike herself. When asking Karina for guidance on learning how to drink, her intentions were nothing but serious. She has never not been the best at something, so she fully intended to be a great drinker. By that, she intended on inspecting each liquor religiously, taking mental notes and rankings over each one, so she’d know exactly which ones to make conversations about or to order at award-shows and after parties.

Her plan, now, was ruined by a tall, black-haired girl with smokey eyes and bubbly lips.

“It was ok.” Minjeong answers, smiling a little at Jimin. Despite her internal irritation, Jimin was the one to pull her back to reality, making sure she didn’t overwork herself—or just reminding Minjeong to not take things too seriously, overall. She was not entitled to be bratty and corrupt the bubbly girl. She wouldn’t.

“You’re a tough one, Minjeong-ah.” Karina says, placing two soju bottles in front of her, then. “Luckily, that was only our warm-up. The real fun starts now!”

Minjeong stares at the Blueberry and Mango Soju bottles with an uncertain gaze. Luckily, Karina had let her choose, even though Minjeong could sense her getting impatient every passing second. And, because she loved to tease Karina as much as the girl enjoyed to teaser her back, Minjeong picked the blueberry-flavored bottle right before Karina’s quick fingers could reach out for them.

“You’re so mean, Minjeongie.” Karina whines, resting her back in the padded seat. The younger one laughs, then, pleased to have gotten into Karina’s nerves.

“Should we eat?” Minjeong asks, as the food is placed in front of them. Karina only nods, biased as she is, opening both bottles before setting up portions for her and Minjeong.

So they drink, eat, and laugh, talking about idol life and all the gossip they hear or notice around. In a blink, their plates are empty, the soju bottles are nearly dry and their throats, raw from rambling too much. Karina orders more food, and opens new bottles— Minjeong is a strong drinker, she commented. A professional, even though it’s her first time, as it goes with everything the auburn haired girl proposes herself to do.

Minjeong has never felt better in her life. It’s as though she’s walking through clouds, lightheaded and unable to hide her loud, careless laughter. Needles prickle her skin, which makes herself grow restless. It’s the reason she stands, after a while, simply unable to keep in place.

“Minjeong-ah? What are you doing?” Karina asks, confused to see the girl walking the short way towards her seat. Her balance is not at all the resemblance of the Minjeong she usually knows; calm, collected, sweet Minjeong. No, Karina doesn’t know this daring, careless girl who is struggling to walk a straight line and launches herself into the older girl’s lap, red curls tingling in her neck.

She loves it, though.

“I don’t want that seat anymore.” She pouts. Minjeong’s eyes are stargazed, but Karina is surprised to not find them glassy or unfocused, as she stares right into the girl’s dark orbs. If anything, they’re attentive — hungry, even though they had just eaten. “Yours is much more comfortable and cozy… Change seats with me, Jimin unnie.”

Karina’s arms wrap around Minjeong’s petite frame instinctively. Her finger’s tease her collarbone once again, while her other hand scratches the skin showing between the younger girl’s crop top and skirt.

Karina laughs. “You need to get up, then, Minjeongie.”

The girl bluntly ignores her, too deep in her thoughts to listen to her unnie.

“You’re so beautiful, unnie…” Minjeong’s whisper is followed by her hands, both gripping Karina’s face rather delicately. Her touch is tender, much different from the way she squirms, pressing herself against the oldest’s thighs. “I’ve always wondered what your lips tasted like…”

Without a warning, Minjeong presses her lips against Karina’s, not a clear thought going through her head. She’s met with a closed mouth, at first — Karina’s too surprised, frozen in position to do anything, but slowly, the oldest finds herself relaxing against Minjeong’s warmth, pulling her in. Their kiss, ever so sweet, suddenly gets impatient, as they lose themselves in savoring each other.

Minjeong already feels as if she’s going to explode: her insides burn and she feels so needy it hurts. She’s aching, humping Karina’s lap like a dumb puppy. Not only the alcohol, she’s drunk with desire, too, she quickly realizes. Drunk with Karina’s sweet taste, and now so empty— without Karina touching her where she needs it the most.

She’s aching, all hot, bothered, and so impatient. It’s the reason she is so loud— or so she likes to tell herself, as an excuse, allowing Karina to grab her neck and guide her head upwards, sucking and nibbling Minjeong’s skin with her teeth as she pleases.

“You’re such a doll, Minjeongie.” Karina praises, but her words do nothing to please the girl. They only make her even more annoyed, borderline desperate.

“Unnie,” She whines, eyes half closed as her body intensifies every sensation possible, focused on driving her to madness. “Give me, now.”

Karina stops herself, too delighted to have Minjeong so desperate and pliable in her arms. How many times had she gotten herself off with the thought of Minjeong’s moans, and now she had them all for herself? It was a dream come true, and she’d enjoy every moment of it. Her fingers stop toying with the hem of the younger girls’ skirt, now far away from her thighs. It makes Minjeong scoff, annoyed.

“Give you what, Minjeongie?” Karina asks, her tone as innocent as she manages it to be, lying on her seat once again.

Minjeong pouts, now having her movements guided by Karina’s hands, gripping her hips and forcing her to a faster pace.

“W-whatever you want.” She manages to say, breathless, as she humps Karina’s thigh. “Just do it now, please.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” Karina’s eyes never leave Minjeong’s face, with the intent of memorizing the moment forever.

The older girl’s mouth lowers, tracing wet kisses until she reaches for the hems of Minjeong’s top, watching them fall freely until the girl’s pink, rosy nipples are exposed to Jimin. Minjeong recoils, shivering due to the sudden decline of temperature. Before she can cover herself, Jimin’s mouth is on her nipple, suckling and nibbling as she gropes the other one, pinching and twisting. Her tongue traces circles around Minjeong’s skin, and she’s absolutely delighted about how responsive the girl is, squirming and trying to run from Karina’s warm, wet mouth. It makes her leave a trail of saliva down her chest, making a mess of the so-collected Kim Minjeong.

She feels Karina everywhere: from her mouth, so inviting, sure of what she’s doing and aware of how desperate she’s making Minjeong be, to her hands, now pulling Minjeong’s panties aside, so her fingers can finally meet her folds. Minjeong is drenched, Karina feels it as two of her fingers enter her folds, no warnings needed. In response, a loud, needy moan can be heard, and Minjeong lets her head fall back, mouth open and a strong grip on her bandmate’s shoulders. She’s finally full, no longer aching with emptiness or desire. Instead, Minjeong is knocked by the pleasant pleasure building up in her stomach, as Karina keeps fingering her pussy hard.

Satisfied, she stays like that: filling the empty bar with her pornographic moans as she keeps riding Karina’s thigh, thinking about nothing else but the way the friction against the leader’s pants is just perfect, aligned with the stretch on her walls, and the mouth on her breasts. It’s almost too much, but she’s unable to ask for Karina to stop, or to gown any slower. No, Minjeong’s head is filled with the urge to let go and come, nothing else. So she lets herself enjoy whatever Karina is willing to give, mind submissive and pliable.

“Does Minjeongie want to cum? Do you, doll?” Karina asks, tone innocent, even though she’s far from being so. Winter’s cunt throbs, making her gulp. Even though there are a few words being formed in her mind, she’s blank, unable to speak in any coherent sentences.

Minjeong nods, a mess of moans and whimpers, clinging onto Karina as if her life depended on it. Karina’s pace deepens, a third finger adding to the stretch of her pussy.

“Yes, p-please!” She chants, just as Karina’s thumb presses onto her clit, making her nearly cry. She feels her peak approaching her form, the combo of sensations building up to her pleasure.

Karina’s hands clutch on Minjeong’s waist so hard she’s sure it’ll bruise the girl’s skin, but she doesn't seem to care. She makes Minjeong’s pace on her thighs faster, dragging the orgasm out of her. “Do it, baby. Come on my fingers.”

Minjeong lets out a high-pitched moan at the command, feeling her body shaking as the orgasm finally has her spilling her juices in Karina’s hand. She’s breathless, hair disheveled and so sensitive— as Karina doesn’t let her stop her movement’s on the leader’s thigh. She whines, but keeps going, though. Like a doll.

“My little doll.” Karina voices her thoughts out loud, dropping wet kisses on Minjeong’s bare shoulders, waiting for the younger girl to settle down.

After a few minutes, she does, leaving Karina’s lap to sit beside her, inhaling deeply.

It’s Karina, Minjeong realizes, then. Karina is better than Soju, better than Rum, and much better than vodka. Karina is what sets her on fire, what gets her dizzy, drunk with desire. Minjeong wants to drink in all of her.

So she kisses her again, just as hungry as their first time, knowing their night had just started.

#s.writes #kpop x reader #kpop smut #aespa smut #aespa imagines #karina aespa #aespa winter #yoo jimin smut #kim minjeong smut #yoo jimin x kim minjeong #jiminjeong #jiminjeong smut #winter smut #karina smut #karina aespa smut

201 notes · View notes

angxlwritez · 10 months

Text

Dues

➳♡゛-PAIRING: Landlord!Toji x Tenant!Reader

➳♡゛-SUMMARY: Short on rent, again. You find a way to pay off your debt owed.

➳♡゛-WARNINGS: Smut (MDNI), P in V, Handcuffs, Facial, Begging, Toji Calls Reader Princess, Oral (F & M) Receiving.

➳♡゛-A/N: My entry for @nymphoheretic xxxhub collab!

“One thousand fifty, one thousand one hundred, one thousand two hundred...” The woman mumbled to herself as she continued counting the money she’d just received from the end of her shift.

"You've got to be kidding me. I'm still short!" Y/N huffed as she shook her head in disbelief.

After getting fired from her old job she had no choice but to apply for the shitty diner down the street. It didn’t help that they paid the bare minimum and the customers barely tipped.

As she walked back to her apartment, Y/N couldn't help but feel defeated. How was she ever going to pay her rent? School was already wearing her down but she promised that she’d pay him for the last couple months and this month. But Toji was growing increasingly impatient and she knew she couldn't keep dodging him forever.

At the front door to her apartment, Y/N rummaged through her bag in search of her keys. Completely unaware to her that the raven haired man was watching her from a distance, figuring out how he could demand for the unpaid rent.

He hated making such demands, especially since Y/N was a struggling college student. But he had a family to feed and bills to pay, and her debt was putting a considerable dent in his own finances.

As Y/N finally found her keys, she entered her apartment, completely unaware of the shadow that followed her inside. She tossed her bag on the couch and kicked off her shoes, letting out a sigh of relief that she was home.

Her relief was short-lived as she turned around to find Toji standing behind her with a stern look on his face.

"Hey Toji," Y/N said, trying to play it cool. "What brings you here?"

"You know why I'm here," Toji replied coldly. "You haven't paid your rent in two months, and I can't afford to keep letting you live here for free."

"I know, I've been trying to find the money," Y/N said, her eyes darting around the room, looking for a way out of the situation.

"Well, I've come to collect it," Toji said, stepping closer to her. "And if you don't have the money, I'm going to have to evict you as it’s long overdue."

Y/N’s heart pounded against her chest as he towered over her. She could feel his eyes darting around the room again, searching for something to seize as collateral if she couldn’t pay the rent off soon but with no luck she saw nothing.

"Look, I want to pay you, I really do," she said, trying to sound sincere. "But I just don't have the money right now..."

Toji scoffed. "Then how do you propose we settle this?"

Y/N bit her lip, trying to think of something, anything to offer him. "How about me?" she blurted out her words faster then her brain could comprehend.

Toji raised an eyebrow, surprised at Y/N's sudden proposal. "Excuse me?"

Y/N took a deep breath, bracing herself for what she was about to say. "I know it's not ideal and maybe it's crazy, but what if I paid off my debt in a different way?"

Y/N fidgeted nervously but held his gaze. "I could offer myself as payment. Just for one night. To make up for the rent I owe you."

Toji's eyes widened as he studied Y/N for a long moment. He had been eyeing the young woman for a while now, watching as she walked in and out of her apartment, imagining her beneath him. He had almost given up on his fantasy when she stopped paying her rent. But now, it seemed like fate had intervened.

Toji's eyes darted to the floor, considering Y/N's offer. He knew she was desperate, but there was no denying the lust he felt towards her deep within him. The thought of having her beneath him, submitting to his every whim, made him feel alive in a way he hadn't in years.

"You're offering yourself as payment?" Toji asked incredulously, his fingers tracing her jawline.

Y/N nodded, her cheeks heating up from embarrassment.

Toji's lips curved into a wicked smile as he leaned in, his breath sending shivers down Y/N's spine. "Well, why didn't you say so sooner?" he whispered, his lips hovering dangerously close to hers.

Y/N's heart raced as she felt Toji's hand slide down her neck and wrap around her waist, pulling her in closer. She could feel his hard body pressed against hers, and she couldn't deny the feeling that was beginning to course through her veins.

She would be lying if she said this was what she had originally intended when proposing to pay off her debt in a different way but she didn’t mind. She’d always find him to be an attractive man.

"So, is it a deal?" Y/N asked breathlessly, her eyes searching his for an answer.

Toji let out a deep chuckle, the tension evaporating instantly. "It's a deal," he murmured, pressing his lips against hers.

Y/N closed her eyes, the sensation of his lips on hers sending electrifying sparks throughout her body. She felt his hands wander down her back, exploring every inch of her body with an animalistic hunger. His kiss was passionate and fiery, and she felt her body melt into his.

Toji then guided Y/N to the bedroom, his hands gripping her hips as he pressed her back against the wall. Y/N could feel every muscle in his body flexing and his heart pounding against his chest.

As his hands moved to her shirt, quickly unbuttoning it and pushing it off of her body. She could feel the goosebumps rise on her skin as he trailed kisses down her neck and exposing her body to the cool rooms air.

Y/N felt her heart continue to race as Toji moved away from her to look in her drawer for a condom, instead his eyes wandered to the pair of handcuffs laying inside of it from a nearby drawer, the thought of his intended plan long gone. As he dangled them in front of her eyes, his expression became stern and serious.

"Now that we have this settled, I think you owe me an experience that you and I won't forget," he said, eyes glinting with a spark of excitement.

Y/N swallowed hard, unable to meet his gaze as she slowly nodded her head, her pulse racing with anticipation and a sudden need for something new and exciting.

She felt her heart race as he snapped the handcuffs around her wrists to the headboard, the cold metal sending a shiver up her spine.

Leaning in, his arms wrapping around her holding her tightly as he kissed her deeply. Y/N moaned as she felt Toji's tongue explore her lips and the sensation of his body pressed against hers. His hands moving to pull down her skirt, the sound of slipping fabric echoing through the room.

Y/N's heart beat faster as she felt Toji's hands exploring the expanse of her body, there was something about the way his hands moved across her skin that seemed to ignite a burning inside of her. She felt herself growing wetter as her hands began to tug against the handcuffs.

When she finally found the voice to speak, her voice was hoarse and breathless. "Toji, I want to touch you." she said, her voice pleading.

Toji pulled back, looking at her with a smirk. "Not yet," he replied, his fingers trailing down her body, stopping at the edge of the elastic of her panties.

"But-" Y/N began to protest.

"I said not yet," Toji interrupted her, his voice stern as he pulled away from her.

Her eyes fixed on Toji, as there was a fierce look in his eye, a commanding look that was both frightening and exciting.

Toji pulled the rest of her clothing off, his lips trailing kisses along her body, down her stomach, to her thighs and legs. He could smell her arousal and he wanted his taste of it.

Reaching down he began to part the outer lips of her pussy with his fingers, his eyes studying the delicate flesh as he opened her up for his eyes.

She could feel herself begin to shake roughly, the sensation of his fingers against her growing more and more intense, the throbbing inside of her only growing stronger.

Toji pressed his lips against her clit, kissing her softly, his tongue darting out to caress her, exploring her and tasting her.

Y/N's body shuddering as she let out a soft moan as his tongue explored her, his hands holding her hips tight against him, his grip strong and firm.

"You taste good," he murmured, his voice low and husky as he began to lick her more forcefully, his tongue darting in and out of her.

As Toji continued to pleasure her with his mouth. She could feel her body begin to shake and her legs grow weak as he continued.

She could feel her muscles tense as the orgasm began to build inside of her, the feeling of his tongue against her growing stronger.

"Toji, I'm going to–" she gasped, her climax growing closer, the feeling of pleasure more intense and strong than she had ever felt. Her hands tugged and pulled against the cuffs, her legs shaking as every touch Toji inflicted upon her sent electricity through her veins.

When he finally stood up, she could see the bulge in his pants, his erection straining against the fabric. Her eyes darted down to his waist, waiting for him to free himself.

Toji chuckled as he took a step back from her, her eyes burning into his. "Do you want to touch me?" he asked, his voice deep.

Y/N nodded, her lips parting to answer him, but he cut her off.

"Tell me. Say it," he demanded.

She couldn't hold back her arousal any longer, as she needed to feel him inside of her. "I want to touch you," her voice a mere whisper.

Toji smirked as he began to fumble with his belt, pulling it open and pulling his pants down, revealing his erection. His lips curved up into a wicked smile as he felt Y/N's eyes on him.

"You want this?" he asked, grabbing a hold of his cock, tracing his fingers around the head it.

Y/N nodded, her eyes filled with lust and desire as she slowly nodded her head, her body yearning for his touch.

She could feel her heart racing as Toji's eyes moved from her to his hand, following his every movement as he began to stroke himself.

"You want this?" he repeated, his voice thick as he let out a moan.

"Yes," she replied, her voice sounding desperate, her eyes pleading.

"Beg me," he ordered, his voice strong and stern.

Y/N could feel her wetness pooling between her legs, dripping onto the sheets beneath her. As she tried rubbing her legs together to get some type of release.

The sound of her own sighs and moans echoing throughout the room.

"I want you," her voice breathless.

"How do you want it?" he asked, his strokes growing heavier and more intense.

She could feel her heart beat faster and faster, her body growing more tense with every stroke he made. "I want you…I need you to fuck me," she replied, her voice a mere whisper.

Toji's eyes flashed with lust, his cock throbbing in his hand as he slowly walked closer to her.

His eyes wandered to the handcuffs still fastened to her wrists as he let out a low chuckle, his grin growing even wider as he stepped out of his pants and reached for them.

Y/N felt her heart beat loudly as she felt the hard metal against her wrists, loosen. A shiver running up her spine as he pulled her closer to him, her back pressed against his chest.

She could feel his breath hot against her neck as he leaned in, his hands roaming across her skin once more, his lips kissing her neck softly as he pulled away from her.

When the handcuffs finally fell to the ground, her body moved into his, her body arching as she felt the thick head of his cock pressing against the entrance of her pussy.

"I want you," he whispered into her ear, his voice a husky whisper.

She could feel every muscle in her body tense as she felt his cock sliding into her, pushing past the tightness of her entrance as he moved inside of her. The feeling of her walls gripping around him more intense than she could have imagined.

She let out a low moan as she felt him fill her completely, her hips arching against him as his cock slid deep inside of her.

"Fuck me," she pleaded, desperate for him to move inside of her.

He began to thrust into her, feeling her walls tighten around him, his cock growing harder with every movement.

His hands moved to her hips, holding her tight against him as he plunged deep inside of her, the head of his cock rubbing against her g-spot.

She could feel the muscles in her legs begin to shake, her body growing weak again as the pleasure deep inside of her continued to grow.

Toji could feel her begin to tremble, as he continued to drive his cock into her hard and fast.

She could feel the ripples of pleasure running through her body with every movement. As her body begin to tingle, muscles growing weaker as he moved inside of her.

"Toji," she moaned, her voice breathless, her body growing weaker and weaker as the orgasm continued to build up.

"Cum for me," he muttered.

He could feel her body begin to shake, her heart racing as he continued.

She felt her body tense, her muscles contracting as the orgasm finally reached her.

Her legs began to shake as her body began to tense up, the pleasure inside of her almost too much to handle.

Her moans growing louder as she felt herself begin to cum.

"On your knees Princess!" He commanded, his voice demanding.

Y/N complied, as she lowered herself to the ground.

Toji moved closer to her, his eyes growing darker as he watched her kneel before him. His hands moved to her face, cupping it firmly as he pushed himself against her lips.

He could feel the warmth of her mouth surrounding his cock as she started to move against him, using the suction from her mouth to drive him wild. Her tongue running circles around him as he felt himself beginning to cum within seconds.

He pulled away from her lips just in time for his cum to explode over her face and neck, coating them with a white slick substance that made Y/N gasp at the sensation.

As Toji pulled away from Y/N, he couldn't help but marvel at how beautiful she looked with his cum still clinging to her lips and cheeks.

Taking his finger he swiped some off her face, “Open your mouth princess.”

Doing as she was told she wrapped her mouth around his fingers sucking them gently.

He smiled at her, a satisfied grin appearing on his face as he looked down upon her.

"Cut!" Yelled the director from behind them, as Y/N could feel a wave of relief wash over her. She quickly got to her feet, still trying to catch her breath from the intense session they had just moments before.

As they had given the two some towels and robes, the crew began to move around them, resetting the scene for their next take.

"Come on," he said softly, his voice low and gentle as his hand moved to the small of her back. "I'm not done with you yet. Let's practice the next scene in private."

With that being said he led her back to his dressing room.

Join my taglist here! Feedback is always appreciated!

409 notes · View notes