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#she's just trying so hard to take care of him
teddynottss · 3 days
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• - ARE YOU FLIRTING OR STARTING A FIGHT?- •
PAIRING(S): theodre nott x fem. reader
WARNING(S): smutt
SUMMARY: theodore and y/n are academic rivals, and when one time she gets into an argument with snape and gets detention, the slytherin boy finds a way to follow her there
A/N: thanks for 100 followers ily all 💓
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Everyone knew you and theodore were academic rivals, both of you had always been racing to be at the top of your classes for years now. However, you always were a few points ahead of him, so you always managed to find a way to brag about it.
You’d always rub your higher marked grades in front of his face, you’d tease him about it in the corridor, lunchtime, anytime, all the time. One class however, potions, was one you faced difficulty with.
Snape wasn’t the biggest fan of your house, Ravenclaw, neither was he of you. He gave you a hard time in his class, while on the other hand theo had it the way he liked.
One time in potions class, Draco gave Neville a potion which caused the Gryffindor boy to throw up slugs all over the room. This little show earned a good chuckle from pretty much everyone, and seeing as Snape wasn’t really trying to do anything about it, you finally snapped. “What the hell is going on?” you shout. “Calm yourself, ms.” Snape answered. “No, no! Look what hes doing to him, do something about it!” “Alright, shush now. This is my class, my business to handle, my choices to make and take.” He said, more angrily now.
“This is bullshit!” You shout. “All right, detention ms!” Snape shouts angrily. Just then, theodore punches blaise in the face, making his nose bleed. Holding his face, blaise speaks “what the actual fuck was that for?”. Theo then goes for another punch and thats when snape stops him using his wand, “alright nott, detention for you too!” you could see the little smirk appearing on theo’s lips as snape spoke.
Later ~
The both of you had to spend your night cleaning the library for detention, wonderful. You got there and to your surprise, theo was already there before you. You ignore him and immediately get to work, you wanted to be done and out of here in no time.
As you’re putting some of the books back, he approaches you. “You’re not going to ignore me the whole night right?” to that you dont answer. “But really, Longbottom, out of all people?” He chuckles. “What are you trying to say, neville is my friend and everyone always finds a way to make fun of him so i will not allow that to happen in my presence.”
You leave the slytherin boy in shock and he turns back to keep working on his part. After a while, he speaks again “You know that this whole problem thing with snape will cause you to fail his class?” he speaks.
“I do.” You scoff. “That means i have a higher chance of getting ahead of you and being at the top of the grade this year.”he teases. “I dont even fucking care nott.” You speak as you keep your face to the front, putting the books back in place. “But that wont happen.” He adds. You turn to him confused, “huh?”. “That wont happen i said.” He speaks.” “And how come?” you ask. “Listen to me, we’ve been academic rivals for years, every single time i was so close to beating you, but i never did, do you ever wonder how?”
You don’t speak, as you cant quiet understand what he’s talking about. He then proceeds to continue “i did it on purpose, i knew how much it matters to you, i read your diary in our first year saying how you were so bad at everything you’ve tried and that studying was the only thing you were good at, thats why i’d write the wrong answers on purpose. Id also steal potter’s invisibility cloak to sneak into the classrooms and change your wrong answers.”
“There is no way,” you say hesitantly unsure what to say instead. “Yes, you need to believe me.” “What the fuck, are you flirting with me or tryna start a fight?” He tilts your chin to look up at him, “i never wanna fight with you, i just want you to be happy.”
Just then you lean in closer and connect your lips. He kisses you back, tongues colliding, his hands land on your hips and he pulls you in closer. He pins you to the bookshelf and starts leaving wet, hungry kisses on your neck and collarbone. You moan at the feeling and grab his hair, to which he responds by biting the skin on your neck, slowly, then more aggressively. “Theo, i wanna thank you for what you did” you speak in between moans. “I wanna pleasure you please.” “You’ll only pleasure me by doing what i ask you to do, let me give you head until you forget your name, cara mia.”
Just then he lifts you so that your legs rest on his shoulders, he raises your skirt and lowers you panties. “God you’re already so fucking wet f’me bella.” He says as he begins trailing kisses around your pussy. You arch your back a bit, wanting him to eat you out already to which he chuckles before he begins teasing your folds with his tongue.
He licks your folds then keeps a hand on your thigh to make sure you don’t fall before he adds three fingers inside you all in one go. “HOLY FUCKKKK” you scream and squirm and squeeze around him, only burying his face deeper into your pussy as his tongue and fingers work in sync. You feel your climax building already, “im gonna cum, theo.” You moan as theo speeds his movements. “FUCKK, OH SHIT YEAH JUST LIKE THAT.”
You release and theo licks you clean. He then shows you some of your come on his fingers and he makes you lick them off his fingers. “You taste so fucking good,” he speaks, kissing you. You moan into his mouth then speak “let me give you head, please, i promise to swallow everything.” He breaks the kiss and smiles at you before beginning to remove his pants. You kneel between the boy, who’s now sat on a chair, and find the lace of his boxers.
You pull them down to reveal his hard, throbbing cock. You begin leaving trails of kisses along his v line. Then, you grab his cock and begin massaging it. He leans down to kiss you as you’re playing with him. You palm him and feel his dick twitch at your touch, then you take most of his length in one go. He moans loudly at the feeling as you lick around, sucking better than ever.
You allow your head to move up and down as you try to take more of his length, your nails digging into his thighs. He tugs at your hair, his fingers playing with your brown curls. The slytherin boy then pushes your head completely making his cock hit the back of your throat.
You gag loudly, the sound sending shivers down theos body. As a result, he throws his head back, moaning as you quicken your moves. “Ohhh, my god ‘hm, yeah, please.. mm.. hmh.. fuckkk just like that principessa.” The boy now a whining, whimpering mess. him moaning like that oml.
Without warning, he cums into your mouth. You look up at him between your lashes, your eyes filled with tears. He smiles down at you, watching you swallow everything. He then carries you and places you on his lap, “good girl, that was fucking awesome, tesoro (sweetheart).”
“I wanna make you cum one more time tonight, i know you have one left.” he speaks. “Only if you promise to come inside me.” You announce. He chuckles and nods as he begins removing your shirt. He removes it then proceeds to remove your bra.
Your boobs fly out, bouncing, also revealing your hard tits. He immediately lays his mouth on your breast, pleasuring your left boob, licking and sucking on it endlessly. He also used his other hand to pinch and play with your tit on the other side. This man, lord. He was only playing with your boobs and he was already gonna throw you over the edge again.
He then pleasured the other boob similarly, licking, sucking, and biting before he started leaving a trail of kisses all the way up to your neck. He then held your hips and slowly begin lowering you onto him, you were able to get most of him in the first time. Then, he gave you time to adjust before pushing more of himself in. You moan when you have his whole length in and then when you get used to his size, you begin riding him.
As you begin riding him slowly and carefully, he groans slightly at the feeling. Theo then places his fingers on your clit and starts rubbing hard which makes you feel yourself cum start to form. “Im gonna cum again teddy..” you announce. “Do it, f’me cara mia.” You speed your movements and so does he, you begin moaning at the speed of things to which he kisses you to stop the moans from being too loud.
Then, theo uses his hips to thrust deeper into your so that you’re practically bouncing on him. That is followed by him sucking on the sensitive skin on your neck, biting and licking it until you scream as you release onto him. As he’s helping you ride out your climax, you moan his name making him groan and cum inside of you.
The boy then grabs your face and kisses you hard, “i fucking loved that,” he speaks. “So did i” you smile back at him. Just then, you hear a sound coming from somewhere to which you both jump in fear and begin getting dressed. You manage to put your skirt and shirt on, but the slytherin boy only his pants before mr lupin appears.
His eyes widen in surprise at the site of the boy half naked, “a little hot mr nott?” “uhh.. yes sir” he says hesitantly. Remus then chuckles, “im gonna let it slide this time but please try to do it in a more private place and finish your duties too.” You both nod before moving back to your jobs.
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chahnniesroom · 21 hours
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to have and to hold
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pairing: bang chan x female reader
summary: you don't think there's anything chan can do to make you love him more. chan continues to prove you wrong.
word count: 1.4k
warnings: mentions of pregnancy, lots of fluff!!
a/n: sorry it has been so long since i posted! i have been wanting to write this since that ep of return of superman where chan and felix took care of rowoon, it was so so sweet. also i'm so sorry but i did not edit this at all
till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist
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“Do you think you’d ever want to have kids?” 
Your question breaks through the quiet dialogue of the show that you and Chan are watching. Behind you, you feel Chan freeze before he forces himself to relax and continue fiddling with your fingers.
Chan hesitates for a moment longer before answering.
“I don’t know,” he says, slowly and carefully. “I think that I’d want to eventually, but right now? Being an idol- It would be difficult. I mean, for anyone it’s hard, but especially with this career…”
“Do you like children?” you ask, curious even though you can anticipate his answer.
“Yes.” This time he replies immediately, although his voice is still cautious. He releases your hands from his hold and gently nudges your shoulders so that you twist to look at him. “Y/n- Do- Are you-”
“What?” you stare at him, not sure why he suddenly seems so worried.
“Are you pregnant?” he asks gently. “It’s fine if you are! We can totally work things out and I will 100% support you the whole time-”
“Oh!” You smack yourself in the forehead. “No! Definitely not! I was just thinking.” 
“Ah.” Chan slumps against the back of the couch, this time he’s actually relaxed. “Just thinking or- what brought this on?”
“I’m sorry,” you say hurriedly. “That must have been out of nowhere for you. No, it’s because my older sister’s wedding anniversary is coming up, the first one since she’s had a kid, so I wanted to let her go out without having to worry. I was wondering if you wanted to help me babysit?”
“I see,” Chan says, sounding relieved. “Your sister. Yes, I haven’t met Doyun yet, right? I’d love to help you take care of him.”
Your sister is delighted that you’ve offered to take Doyun for an evening and you quickly coordinate with Chan what day would work best. It’s not possible to babysit on your sister’s actual anniversary due to Chan’s schedules, but your availabilities line up on a Friday night the weekend after.
Chan is nervous leading up to it, which you find absolutely adorable. When you look over his shoulder one night, curious what he’s focusing so intently on, you find him scrolling through articles on interacting with babies as well as tips on baby-proofing an apartment.
Before your sister arrives, you work with Chan for a few hours transforming the open area of your apartment, placing pillows and draping blankets over sharp corners and making sure to keep any small objects out of reach. 
When the doorbell rings, Chan panics, popping his head out of the kitchen from where he’s been trying to figure out a way to prevent Doyun from being able to open the cabinets.
“We're not ready!” he says, eyes wide.
“What do you want to do, keep them waiting outside until you finish?” you joke, then pause when it looks like Chan is actually considering it. “Don't worry, I'll go let my sister in and you keep working on that. We'll be watching Doyunnie the whole time, so even if you can't work that out, it's fine.”
Your sister doesn't stay for very long. She hands Doyun off to you and assures both you and Chan that your place looks safe for a baby. After going through everything that is packed in the massive diaper bag that she’s leaving with you, she heads back home to get ready for her dinner.
Doyun has a short attention span and cycles between playing with a stuffed animal, a ball,
some plastic fruits and vegetables, and toy trains within the first hour. He is so adorable that you and Chan don't mind how much energy is required to keep him occupied. Luckily he's a fairly easygoing baby and hasn't fussed at all, although it did take a while for him to warm up to the two of you.
He's comfortable now, especially since Chan has started to spin the two of them around, hands firmly gripping Doyun’s torso. Doyun absolutely loves it, shrieking in excitement with his eyes crinkling. Even after a few minutes of the same thing, he never grows bored, just as thrilled everytime that Chan lifts him above his head. Although Doyun isn’t very heavy yet, after 15 minutes there’s sweat visible on Chan’s forehead and he’s starting to get out of breath.
“How about we take a bit of a break? Do you want to read?” Chan sits Doyun down against some pillows and rummages through the bag that your sister packed, finding some of the books that she included.
Chan hands the books over and although Doyun accepts both of them, he throws them aside and instead clumsily reaches up towards Chan, clearly asking to be picked up again. Chan pretends to groan and complain as he lifts Doyun back up.
“Aww,” you coo. “He really likes you.”
“And I really like him,” Chan says, spinning Doyun around. “I just wish I hadn’t gone to the gym earlier today, I didn’t realise what a workout this would be!”
Eventually Doyun grows tired, no longer begging Chan to continue. This time when Chan settles him on the ground, he just looks around curiously before crawling up to Chan and grabbing at his curls.
“He’s so small,” Chan marvels. “Look at his little fingers!”
He reaches out towards Doyun, who immediately wraps his hand around Chan’s index finger and pulls it towards his mouth.
 It's comical to see the difference in size between their hands and Chan visibly melts, allowing Doyun to gum at his fingers, quickly covering them in a sheen of saliva.
“Are you hungry Doyunnie?” Chan asks. “It’s almost time for dinner, let’s see what your auntie prepared for us.”
By the time Doyun is set up in a high chair with a bib on, you’ve finished cooking. Dinner for Doyun is simple, consisting of steamed vegetables, tofu, rolled omelette, rice, and a bit of fruit. You’ve also used the same ingredients plus a few additions to make kimchi stew for you and Chan.
Chan is distracted the whole meal, prioritising feeding Doyun and wiping his face clean in between bites over eating his own food. It's a futile effort since Doyun seems more interested in smearing the food around rather than getting it into his mouth.
When you're finished with your food, you switch spots with Chan and coax Doyun into eating the last few bites he has left while Chan scarfs down his own meal. 
After dinner, you carry Doyun into the bathroom and start filling the bathtub with a shallow layer of warm water. He watches with wide eyes as you add bubble bath that changes the colour of the water to a deep blue and creates a thick cover of bubbles. After washing the dishes and wiping down the kitchen, Chan joins the both of you just as you’re rinsing suds out of Doyun’s hair.
Cleaned and dressed in a fuzzy onesie with tiny bear ears poking out from the hood, Doyun struggles to stay awake for the rest of the evening. It’s obvious that he’s tired, he’s starting to get cranky and his blinks get longer and longer, but he stubbornly continues to play. After his third time nodding off while slotting plastic shapes into a cube, Chan picks him up and walks him around the room, rocking him slightly while humming a melody that you can’t recognize.
When your sister comes to pick up Doyun, he's sprawled out on Chan’s chest, deeply asleep. A line of drool drops from his open mouth to form a wet spot on Chan’s shirt, but Chan doesn’t seem to mind, staring at Doyun with stars in his eyes.
That night, right when you're about to fall asleep, Chan speaks up. His arms are wrapped around you and you can feel his breath against the back of your neck. 
“I think,” he says quietly. “I think I want kids. Not now, I still have the same concerns as before, but in the future? I want it.”
“You did so well with Doyunnie, it looked so natural,” you agree. “I think you would be a great dad.”
“Only if you’re there by my side,” he corrects.
“There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”
till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist
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januaryembrs · 2 days
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WAS I FOOLIN MYSELF | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader [5]
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Description: The THREE times you can't have him no matter how much you want to
Length. 15.2k
warnings: angst, spencer's addiction mentioned, gory cm cases (medical trauma, removing limbs, human marionettes etc) explosion, broken arm and surgery, slight lemon at end but not actually written just described aftermath, Maeve arc (I'm so sorry), guns, almost dying, blood, general cm warnings, anything else let me know!
previous chpt | next chpt
Authors note; I will edit in the morning I just really wanted you all to have the next chapter as promised!!
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'I'ma strike these matches, never had control,
I'm ready to let go, no, was I fooling myself?'
The one with the wedding
JJ’s ears were ringing, a high pitched whine like a radio skipping between stations searching for a signal, and she felt the hard concrete against her milky skin before the throbbing in her forehead hit. 
“JJ, are you alright?” There were hands at her shoulders, patting her down for fractures, not wanting to move her if her spine had been hit, and it wasn’t until she rolled herself over, eyes frantic and in shock that she saw Morgan.
“Where’s Will? Where’s Bugsy?” She asked, the words blurring into one word. Her legs were struggling to a stand before she could think too much about the concussion she almost definitely had, giving Morgan a quick once over, “Did they get out of there?” 
But she hadn’t seen any movement before the blast had shot them back ten feet to the floor. Had only seen the back of the youngest Prentiss woman’s head as she rushed into the building to get emergency medical care to her partner. 
“Where’s Emily?” Morgan added, and the two of them realised they were missing perhaps three of the most important people to them with no sign of life from any of them. 
It didn’t take much for JJ to take off bolting into where the bank’s entrance had crumbled to the floor, where the dust hadn’t even settled and they didn’t know whether there was a second set of bombs waiting for them. They didn’t know anything. 
And it was for that reason JJ dipped straight into the wall of smoke, hand tight on her gun as she went to look for survivors.
Morgan and Hotch were hot on her heels, a dozen firefighters and medical in tow, a similar face of dread in their expressions. 
Aaron’s heart was in his throat when they entered the building, the west facing wall almost entirely in smithereens on the floor. The dust choked him the second they ran in, and he coughed before he could even get a word out, hand flying over his mouth to try give himself some kind of filter to the air. 
“Bugsy!” He yelled as loud as his dry vocal chords would allow, “Bugsy, give us a signal,” 
Nothing. Nothing but the sound of JJ and Morgan screaming for Will and Emily just as loud. And even to that they received no answer. 
It wasn’t until they got close enough to the rubble and began seeing the bodies did Aaron start to fear the worst. He called her name again, her real name, splitting up from the rest of his team because it was no longer a mission for the UnSubs, it was now a search and rescue. 
He crouched to press his fingers against a woman’s throat, stomach flipping when he felt no pulse beneath them, before he moved onto another one, his eyes darting between the chunks of brick and ceiling to see if he could spot anything that looked like an FBI jacket. 
It wasn’t until he found one of the men donned in a SWAT uniform, his gun long since dropped to the tiles that he knew he must be close. It was one of the guys who had gone into the buildings seconds before her.
He felt for a familiar thrum of a heartbeat, his breath thick in his throat when he managed to get a slow and steady thump, and he immediately began signalling for medical attention.
Paramedics came running over with a stretcher between them, but Aaron wasn’t finished, Not until he saw her. 
He dodged around the large chunk of stone that piled in the centre of the room, cringing when he saw a splatter of blood on the tiles in front of him, and it was only when he saw a hand splayed out on the floor did his heart truly stop. 
His cold eyes were wet with fear as he traced the hand up its arm, the familiar blue he wore himself ripped to shreds, the skin beneath it broken and the bone snapped clean in two. He could barely make out the three letters, F. B. I. that were so covered in blood and dirt it almost matched the navy, before he got the pillow of familiar hair matted against a head that faced away from him. 
But it was her. There was no doubt about it. 
He thinks he said her name, but it might just have been a sob, because he fell to his knees quickly, scrambling to get to her face to see if she would respond to him at all. 
“Bugsy, I need you to wake up,” He ordered, though it sounded like a hiss of pain, his rough hands finding her young face, desperate for any movement behind her eyelids, “Come on, sweetheart, just tell me what day it is,”
Years of training on what to do in a crisis and the correct first aid to give to someone unresponsive flew out of his brain, leaving behind bits and pieces like getting her to talk to see whether she had severed anything in that big, amazing brain of hers that had so much promise. 
He leaned his ear down next to her nose, looking down the front of her chest to check for any signs of breath.
This was too similar to what Foyet had done with Haley, like a horrid deja-vu he wouldn’t wish even on their worst UnSub. He had been too slow, too stubborn, too stupid to stop her from getting hurt. He didn’t know what her blood on his hands would feel like, didn’t know if he would ever sleep again knowing he had gotten her killed. 
Aaron’s stomach flipped when he saw her ribs rising slowly beneath her vest, her breaths cold against his earlobe. 
“Guess it’s my turn to come back from the dead, huh?” A croaking whisper came softly, and he flicked his head around so fast he thought he might have whiplash. 
But her eyes were open, squinting and tired, and he cursed the fact he had only then noticed the cut on her forehead, red ichor pumping fast and restlessly down the side of her face. 
He gave a breathless laugh, though it pained his own ringing ear to do so, stroking gently down her face with the same care he would put Jack to bed with. 
“Gotcha,” She smiled up at him sheepishly, her brows furrowing when she seemed then to notice the tears rolling down the tip of his nose, “Aaron Hotchner crying over me, are pigs flying today?” 
He chuckled wetly, and his eyes were the warmest brown she’d ever seen them when he looked down at her. He turned his attention away for a second to call over medical, his eyes landing on Emily who was also frantically scanning the wreckage for her sister and giving her a sign too. 
“You gave us quite a scare there,” Aaron said softly, because judging by the bump on her head, and the way blood was pooling in her ears, he guessed her eardrums had been damaged in the blast. Emily was over to them in seconds, looking dishevelled herself, and she gasped into her hands when she saw her sister’s fragile form. 
“Bugsy- oh my god your arm,” 
The girl’s face dropped, eyes widening as she tried turning to see the damage but Aaron was faster, quickly blocking her view of the mangled mess of skin with hand over the side of her head. 
“What’s wrong with my arm?” She asked, and he saw nothing but his son with a scraped knee in her eyes when she looked up at him vulnerably. Emily fell to her knees next to her, taking over from Aaron by stroking her sister’s cheek, because if her adrenaline rose too much, then the numbness of the shock would wear off and she would feel it all. 
“I think it’s broken, but the paramedics are going to fix you right up, I promise,” Emily cooed, though she felt herself go a little white at the sight of her sister’s bones so mangled and in pieces. 
Aaron looked up when he heard Morgan calling his name, spotting the paramedic team navigating their way back to where the three of them sat, and he waved his hand up to let them know where they were. 
He bit his tongue, looking down at where Bugsy was clearly starting to wake up more to just how bad of a state she was in, and she watched him woefully be torn between helping the rest of his team or staying with her. 
“You guys can go, I’m no use on the case anymore,” She said, despite the fact she was terrified of what might happen if they left her alone. 
“Are you crazy, absolutely not-,” Emily was cut off when two EMT’s rounded the block of concrete and brick that had missed her by a few inches when it had fallen, a stretcher and med packs at their side. 
“Good to see you’re responsive, Agent Prentiss,” One of the EMT’s commented, opening his case up to retrieve a neck brace and a splint for her arm before they could move her to the stretcher. Bugsy smiled up at them, though she knew it looked like a wince, taking one more look at her sister and then at Hotch, both of whom looked stuck between a rock and a hard place. 
“Go, I’m serious. Will needs you,” She said, feeling Emily squeeze her hand gently, pressing a kiss to her hairline, looking down at her in worry, “Go, Emily. Just bring me pudding when you get to the hospital- no Jello-”
She hissed when the paramedics slipped the brace over her shoulders, strapping her head into place to stop her doing any more damage to her spine. 
Emily nodded, and her and Hotch took off round the corner to where Morgan was calling them, and Bugsy let the paramedics fuss over her some more, taking the pain killers without a second glance once she realised just how broken Emily had meant when she saw her arm. 
It got hazy from there, until she felt the sun on her face and she felt a hand grab her good side. Her eyes were rolling with the fact she was fighting off sleep, or maybe she really had lost more blood than she thought. Either way she managed to flick her eyes open enough to meet hazel hues, distraught and worried, heard a familiar voice calling her name sadly, but she was too far gone by then. Her eyes shut despite her fighting them, and she was wheeled into the back of an ambulance by the friendly EMT’s, and the doors shut before her medicated brain could even recognise the voice as Spencer. 
She was asleep before she could protest to it. 
The air smelled like bleach- no, like floor cleaner had been drenched all around her, like she had been dropped into a janitor's closet and spilled every bottle over on her way in. 
Her body felt stiff, and she frowned when she felt cramp in her fingertips, pain shooting up her wrist the second she tried to move them. Her eyes opened blearily, and she groaned in protest at the overhead white lights, burying her face into the scratchy sheet that covered her body. Only then did it click that she was in a hospital.
She moaned again when she tried moving her legs and her whole body protested, her bare legs rubbing against the paper like material in a way that made her cringe, and she felt only the hospital gown and underwear on her body.
“You’re awake,” The voice startled her, and she realised she hadn’t even heard the door open in her haze. Spencer stood in the doorway, three big bunches of flowers and two teddies in his arms, one of them holding a sign saying ‘You’re bear-y brave!’
What got her was the look of worry in his eyes when he took her in head to toe, his eyes lingering on the bright pink cast on her lower arm up past her elbow. 
She grimaced, following his eyes to the horror, “Sexy,”
He rushed over to her bedside, all but throwing the flowers and cuddly toys on the space where her legs weren’t curled up under the sheets, pausing for a second to assess the situation. 
“Spencer, you didn’t need to get me all of this,” Bugsy said, her cheeks warming when she saw her favourite flowers right at the end of the bed, blooming right in her direction, “Is everyone okay? Is Will okay?” 
He nodded, but had yet to say anything, and he fiddled with his fingertips the way he did when he was struggling to get his point across properly. She reached out with her functioning hand to take them in hers, because she hated when he wouldn’t talk to her. 
“Spencer, I’m fine, it’s just a broken arm, right?” The woman asked, trying to shuffle herself into a sitting position only to yelp when her side burst into pain. He rushed to put his arm behind her back, to get her to lay back down without putting too much pressure on her sternum, “What the fuck is that? I feel like I got hit by a baseball bat,” 
“That’s what happens when you run blindly into a building without waiting for backup,” Spencer said, an undertone to his words she had never heard from him before, “Two cracked ribs; you’re lucky your lungs are still intact,”
Shit. 
“Anything else?” She asked, a grim look on her face as his expression soured. 
“Almost tore one of your eardrums, moderate concussion. They had to put pins in your arm to fix the fracture, it was transverse before you ask, lacerations to your legs from the glass, and some shrapnel they pulled out while you were in surgery.” Spencer listed, propping a pillow behind her head for her to rest against more comfortably though he still seemed annoyed, “No biggy,”
She paused for a second, watching him like a scolded child, her lips pulling down slightly, “Are you upset with me?” 
He sighed, running a gentle hand over her leg that was covered by the thin sheet, and she felt the sting of cuts on her skin just like he’d said. 
“I’m not annoyed, I could never be annoyed with you; you just-” He huffed, looking up at her sad eyes and feeling his resolve crumbling immediately, “You can’t just throw yourself in the way of danger, you have people who care about you, people who love you,” 
She bristled for a second, looking into her lap and chewing the inside of her lip worriedly, “I just wanted to help Will, I just didn’t want JJ and Henry to lose him the way I thought I lost Emily,”
Spencer’s heart sank, and any telling off he was going to give her for worrying him left him in seconds, and he forgave her embarrassingly fast.
Taking her hand back in his gently and scooching a chair closer to the bed so he could sit with her, he looked up at her with the sweet, puppy eyes she had always loved on him. 
“I know, I know you just wanted to help,” He hushed her, using his other hand to stroke her hair behind her ear, “Next time just… wait for your lucky charm, remember?” 
She smiled brilliantly, and he almost could ignore the butterfly stitching on her forehead or the bright pink cast on her arm, or the fact her clothes had looked like a crime scene when they’d shoved them in a biohazard bag with how soaked in blood they were.
Her pretty tweed pants and white shirt she’d bought especially for his Dr Who convention to make him happy, wasted. 
“Where’s all my clothes?” She asked, like she’d read his mind, but then again she had been known to do that. 
He pouted, because he knew she’d hate the answer, “Emily said they had to cut it off to get you into the brace properly; they ran some scans first to make sure your spine was intact.”
“All of my clothes?” She baulked, and he knew she was upset before she could even say so he stroked his thumb over her hand for good measure, “But my lovely shirt- and the pants they were so cute, weren’t they?”
“They were so cute,” He agreed, even though he thought she looked good in everything.
“And- oh my god they got my bra too?” She asked, wide eyed and horrified like she hadn’t had a building dropped on her, like this was the worst part of her day. Spencer opened his mouth to say something, but he thought better than to tell her it wasn’t a big deal and he was sure Pen could take her shopping for new ones even if the thought of it made his cheeks flush red, “They got the best one, Spencer, that was my best one with the little bows and the lace at the back- fuck,” 
She huffed, rubbing her temple in annoyance seemingly completely unaware of the situation she’d put him in, when JJ slowly entered the room, looking more tired and stressed than she had in months, but there was a little glow in her face that washed it all away. 
“JJ, they cut off my favourite bra,” Bugsy huffed, holding an arm out for the woman who came to stand at the opposite side of the bed to Spencer, and JJ quickly leaned in to hug her close, Bugsy’s head pressing against her stomach, “It was the only one that fit perfectly, now look at me. Wasted.”
“I can get you another one on Monday after Will and I have stopped by the courthouse,” JJ said, her eyes alight with mischief like she had a secret, and Bugsy frowned, looking up at the woman. 
“Why on Earth would Will be buying me- Wait,” The girl stopped, her breath catching in her throat as she took in JJ’s sheepish blush and girlish grin, “Courthouse? You’re getting married!” 
JJ’s smile was beaming, and Bugsy yanked her with her one good arm into a side hug, just about as much as her ribcage would allow, and Spencer’s face lit up equally, though he was quick to usher Bugsy back into a resting position so as not to jostle her stitches. 
Spencer drove her home that night after she got discharged, and he helped her get settled back into her own bed, her face still a little bitter at the fact her favourite underwear set was “totally mismatched now”; her words, not his. He put a documentary on for the two of them until it was time for some more of the painkillers the doctors had sent her packing with, and she fell asleep pretty quickly after that. 
He watched her breaths rising and falling slowly, the sight of her on that stretcher being wheeled into the back of the ambulance flashing in his head like a horror motion picture. Her face had been soaked in blood, her neck in a brace that looked tight enough to crush her, her eyes were weary and dim from what he knew now was the sedative effects of the painkillers. 
He’d almost brought up the fact he’d found a geneticist willing to take a look at his MRI scans to help his migraines; almost brought up that she had finally got back to him with results and a plan of vitamins and dietary changes he could make to help ease his flare ups. 
Spencer almost mentioned it, but he fell asleep listening to Bugsy’s breaths, checking for irregularities, before he had the chance to. 
Hot pink did not match ditsy blue whatsoever, she had quickly decided, but the bluebell, floral dress was the only thing she owned long enough to cover the scratches on her legs and arms, and hid the majority of the hideous cast that weighed down her arm. 
Spencer had encouraged her not to come to JJ’s ‘engagement party’, had encouraged her to stay at home and sleep; promised her he would rustle up the best chicken soup she’d ever tasted if it meant she would stay on the couch and rest her marred body. 
But then Rossi had said he just simply couldn’t let a nice occasion go to waste. A few phone calls later, a drop in the ocean of his wealth and within two days the yard to his stately manor had been turned into a ceremony, the whole arch, pews and altar style. 
“You should worry so much, you look lovely,” Spencer softly chided her when he saw her yanking her sleeve further down her arm, trying to cover the hard shell that protected her radius while it healed. She did, despite the fact he had to help her do her eyeliner because she could only do it with her right hand, or that there was still a nasty cut on her forehead that was scabbing up. 
She was still beautiful as ever to him. And it made Spencer’s chest sore. 
It felt like something had cracked between them since that night she had been dropped to his, her pupils wide as dinner plates, her inhibitions lowered to zero, and had pecked his lips like it wouldn’t tear him up inside to have her so close to him knowing it was everything he had ever wanted. 
He knew if she ever kissed him again he couldn’t keep it in anymore, couldn’t stay in this limbo they had found themselves in where all he could think about was how she smelled when she wore his clothes, a mix of his laundry and her skin together, something he’d found himself purely saturated in since she first lived with him after Emily’s funeral. He loved the way her eyes seemed soft and mellow when she looked at him, loved the way his stomach seemed warm and fuzzy when she held his hand, and he knew it wasn’t in the same way it normally was with other people, when he was worried about how many germs they were spreading to him or if they’d had all their shots or if he’d remembered to pack hand sanitizer. His stomach felt funny, and his skin felt sweaty, and his head got scrambled, and it was somehow good. 
He would do anything for her, anything she ever wanted from him and it was hers. 
He knew it way surpassed friendship. It felt like she was his girlfriend, which was absurd because he had never asked her to be. Or maybe it was just him trying to wish it into existence, because he knew he would never ask her. She was too good for him, too good for this world let alone a scrawny, know-it-all like him. 
She simpered under his words, looking at him with tired eyes, though he could tell she still yearned to fluff up her hair or fix her dress because she felt like a polished turd right now. 
“Thankyou,” She said quietly, immediately spotting a waiter carrying a tray of champagne passing by and reaching for a little flute, “Want one? Thank you,”
Spencer shook his head politely, quickly spotting Emily and Morgan moving into the garden with Hotch and Beth not far behind them.
“I’ll be right back, just wait here a second,” He said, gently stroking over her spine with his warm hands, before he darted towards the group. Jack took off running towards Bugsy the second he saw her, and Spencer heard the small ‘ooft’ leave the woman as he collided with her stomach and nearly winded her. He was getting bigger by the minute, Spencer swore. 
“Don’t you look dashing, boy wonder,” Morgan teased, flicking his finger under the lapel of Spencer’s two piece suit that Bugsy had told him more than once fit him like a glove, “Someone to impress?” 
Spencer blanched, his eyes shooting to Emily who seemed to hide a smile, because his feelings for her sister were about as plain to see as the moon that coated their evening in a blue glow. Hotch looked over the younger agent’s shoulder, to where his son was throwing cents into Rossi’s fountain with Bugsy and making wishes, his eyes quickly falling to the pink cast around her wrist, and his face hardened. 
“How is she?” He asked, lips pursed. 
They had seen her in turns at the hospital, but most of the time she had been extremely out of it, Hotch had managed to catch her right before they took her into surgery for her arm, and even then he’d been ushered right back out of the room because they were getting her prepped to be scrubbed down. 
Spencer bit his lip for a second, glancing over his shoulder at Bugsy fishing through her purse with her one good hand for more nickels, before he looked back at them, “She doesn’t want anyone to make a big deal about it, and don’t bring up her arm or her forehead, she’s a little delicate-”
He was cut off by Penelope squealing behind them, and they turned in unison to see the blonde woman cupping Bugsy’s face, checking herself for more abrasions, stroking over the younger girl’s shoulders as she simply allowed herself to be ragged like a doll. 
Because it was Penny. And Penny always meant well. 
Spencer flustered worriedly, and Morgan chuckled behind him, wrapping an arm over the kid’s shoulder. 
“Can’t protect her forever, lover boy,” Derek said, patting him before he let go, taking Emily’s elbow and walking over to where they were serving hors d'oeuvres. 
Spencer knew that, knew she could handle herself just fine without him. That was what worried him the most. 
JJ looked beautiful in her mother’s wedding dress. Bugsy welled up with happiness, true happiness when she saw her friend walking down the aisle with her son, a spitting image of her, in one hand, her father’s arm in the other. 
Will looked besotted, but then again he always did when he looked at JJ. 
Bugsy felt the love in the entire yard as they said their vows, kissing each other without restraint under the floral arch as Henry covered his eyes with a little giggle and an ‘eww!’ which made everyone chuckle. 
The violinists began playing soft hymns as the couple had their first dance, and Henry migrated towards the woman with the pink hand and the sapphire dress. 
“Buggy,” He tugged on the bottom of her skirts, huge, sky-blue eyes blinking up at her behind a mop of blonde furls. “Buggy, your hand!” 
She knelt down to hear the three year old a little better, and immediately tiny fingers trailed over her wrist worriedly. 
“Your hand, it’s hurt,” He said, and Spencer crouched to comfort the boy who he still remembered holding hours after he was born.
“I know, I hurt myself at work,” She said, letting him run his fingers over the pink shelling, his eyes wide and confused about the new material, “But Mommy saved me, and she saved your Daddy, and she saved you, didn’t she? Isn’t she so brave,” 
Henry smiled, like all his thoughts of his mommy being Wonder Woman were true, and he nodded, stepped towards Bugsy while making grabby hands for her neck, “Up,”  
Spencer was about to protest, because he didn’t want her to push herself, but he knew she could never say no to kids, especially ones as cute as the boys. 
“Alright, big man, up we go,” She put her good arm under his bottom, Spencer holding under her shoulder to help her into a stand with a repressed grunt, “Jesus, what did you eat for breakfast today. You really are a big boy, Henry,” 
She put him on her hip, shoving off the way it stung her superficial cuts because Henry seemed happy, grabbing a section of her hair in his tiny hands, and stroking her head gently in what Bugsy guessed was the way JJ stroked his when he was unwell. 
“Mommy says you have to have a magic kiss when you get hurt,” Henry babbled, and she smiled, her cheeks hurting because the kid was just sweet enough to eat. 
“Oh, yeah? Is mommy magic then?” She entertained, feeling Spencer still a ghost over her shoulder in case she started struggling to hold the pre-schooler. His godson laughed like she told a joke, shaking his golden locks as he answered. 
“No, Buggy,” He giggled, patting her cheek as she scrunched eyes shut with a smile, “You get a magic kiss when you get fixed. Like this,” He leaned in, leaving a big wet smooch on her cheek that made her giggle, tightening her hold on him with a shiny jaw. Henry turned to where Spencer watched them with a dazzling smile, pointing up at him, little fingernails waving in his face, “Spencer’s turn,”
His godfather faltered, his cheeks turning red and Bugsy looked between the two of them, amused. 
“I can’t, I’m afraid Henry. I’m not magic like you and mommy,” Spencer replied, trying to brush the boy off as kindly as possible. Henry’s face frowned, because he had watched Uncle Spencer pull a coin out of his ear not even half an hour ago and so that statement seemed ridiculous. 
“You have to! You have to give her magic kisses or she won't get better!” Henry ordered, trying to grab Spencer’s bow tie with vigour, “You have to!” 
“Alright, alright,” Spencer agreed, his hands shooting up in surrender, “I’ll give her magic kisses,”
Bugsy looked at him with a heart stopping smile. She looked soft like butter, syrupy and warm as pudding. The moonlight washed her pupils with something like a cartoonish twinkle, and he hoped his forest eyes didn’t turn to two love hearts the way he felt like it did. 
He raised one of his hands to her cheek, the same one Henry just kissed, holding her still. She was cool in the night air, or maybe his hand was just too warm because he was so nervous. He hoped he wasn’t shaking, but her jaw fit into the palm of his hand like it was always meant to be there. 
He dipped his head in to give her a long, delicate kiss to her cheek, running a thumb down the apple of her cheek. 
He pulled away from her, and they exchanged a look, something in her eyes he had rarely seen before. Figuring it was discomfort, or maybe just the light playing tricks on him, he stepped away, and Henry was quickly distracted by a frog hopping through the mildewed grass, and he set Bugsy on the task to help him catch it. 
Spencer busied himself talking to Will and Derek in the hopes his heart would calm down any minute soon, but he had quickly felt himself becoming somewhat addicted to the feel of her skin beneath his lips. He wondered lewdly if the rest of her would feel so soft as her cheek had, and immediately scolded himself for it. 
The thought haunted him for the rest of the night.
-
Penny twirled her around by her good arm, and the two of them giggled like school girls under the fairy-light woven pergola, the string quartet finishing off the fast paced song they had switched up the mood with. The blonde was careful about not jostling the woman too much, she could already feel Spencer and Emily’s worried looks from where they sat together at a table, nursing their drinks mid chat. 
But whether it was the fact she had been cooped up for days on bed rest orders (Spencer’s, not the Doctor’s, though he’d argued that was the same thing,) or that last morphine patch had really given her a kick up the behind, but she seemed to be hiding the pain well. 
JJ would only have one wedding, she’d argued with Spencer, she could have a hundred days in bed, but there would only be one night like this one; when they were all together, safe and happy, when there was enough palpable love in the air that fell over everyone's shoulders like a warm hug. He’d grumbled that he was usually the optimistic one and zipped up her dress for her with shaky fingers anyway. 
Before Penny could spin her round even one more time, a figure appeared two tower over the blonde, and a voice cut in between them politely.
“I don’t suppose you’d let me lead the next dance, I think Reid and Prentiss might just tackle you if you shake her up anymore,” Aaron’s voice was soft, inviting with the one and a half beers he’d had edging at his tone, almost teasing in a way so rare for a man so stern. 
Penelope looked over Bugsy’s shoulder to indeed see the woman’s two guard dogs watching her like a hawk, Bug’s already opened purse on Spencer lap where her emergency painkillers were. 
“Oh god, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Spencer frown like that, it’s like watching a puppy resource guarding,” Penelope faltered, looking the woman head to toe as if she was being held against her will to dance by the blonde, “You’re not hurt or anything- you’d tell me if you were hurt, wouldn’t you?”
Bugsy chuckled, throwing her good arm over the woman’s shoulder, “Relax, they’re both worry warts. I’m having fun, Pen. I think Hotch just wanted a turn with the ugly barbie,”
Against Penelope’s better judgement, she gave the woman a kiss on the cheek with a sigh of defeat, though she had been so careful not to push her in fear of her cracking another rib, but she had loved seeing Bugsy smile like that again. 
Derek was quick to swoop in to save her, swooping in to steal her for a dance as Aaron gently took Bugsy’s waist and good hand, entirely respectable and gentle in his touch. 
“I’m glad you’re okay, your bell got a little rung in that bank,” Aaron murmured, trying not to fret over the gash on her forehead that had a few butterfly stitches pulling it together. He remembered how frail she’d felt in his arms the last time he’d properly seen her, like a baby bird with its wings snapped in his hands. He was worried he was going to be burying her too, just like he had Emily, just like he had Haley, except he knew for her there wasn’t a catch, an escape route to Paris. There wouldn’t have been a do over.
But she was okay. Broken bones and all. 
She smiled at him, as if to remind him just how alive she was, and he saw how her eyes were bloodshot and tired, as if it was taking all of her energy to keep her head upright. 
“If you knew how many morphine patches are on my butt right now, you’d freak,” She said, and he laughed, because she was always good at getting those from him. Bugsy relaxed in his arms, and he rocked her side to side sweetly, not quite dancing but moving passively to the soft melody the band was playing. 
Maybe it was the fact he wasn’t in work mode, or maybe it was because the night air was cosy and light, or maybe she just weaselled out the guilt that had been stored in his chest for nearly a year, but he let himself look at her with a sad, sepia gaze, and it was like she knew what he was going to say before he said it. 
“I’m-”
“Don’t apologise,” She cut in quickly, her own expression falling into something forlorn, “You have nothing to apologise for, Aaron,”
He took a deep breath through his nose, “I do. That wasn’t right how I treated you. You’re not spoiled.” 
“I can be, sometimes,” She argued defeatedly, but he shook his head before she could add to it, “You were doing what was best to keep Emily safe, it was her I was more mad at than anything. She’s my sister, she should have trusted me, you and JJ didn’t owe me anything.”
“We owed you a better explanation than we gave,” He said, watching her sigh and rest her cheek on his shoulder. He cursed Spencer for allowing her to wear heels in her condition, though he didn’t doubt that the pretty boy had put up just as much fight as he would have seeing her grab the shoes on her way out, “I never meant to hurt you so much. And we do owe you better, we’re a family. Families fight, and they say mean things and they tell white lies sometimes but we love each other, and I only ever wanted to keep everyone safe. Okay?”
She nodded against his blazer material, dropping his hand in the interest of wrapping both her arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug, ignoring the dulled ache of her ribcage.
“I love you too,” She murmured, and he gave her a feather-light squeeze back, all too aware of her bones creaking under her skin, “I’m sorry I hit you,”
She let go of him, and he held her hand, the tips of her fingers poking out from beneath her cast that already had Jack’s name scrawled over in black sharpie. 
“I deserved it, I was being cruel,” He said honestly. He hadn’t meant to be so harsh, but the emptiness in her laugh, in the way she’d stormed out, had scared him. He thought even if she lashed out, if she screamed at him or cried that would be better than the silent treatment because at least then he would know where she stood with him. But instead he had driven the knife in deeper, and for that he couldn’t say he blamed her for it, “I’ve had worse, much worse. Maybe you’re not as tough as you think,”
She baulked, and realised he was teasing her, “Maybe we could go round two Monday morning, I bet it would hurt a lot having a hard plaster cast swung at your face,” 
“For me or for you?” She smacked his arm with her good hand, and it made him chuckle again, and soon she was laughing too, resting her head back onto his shoulder comfortably, “I’m glad you’re okay, Bug,”
“Did you not hear where I put those morphine patches? I could paper mache with those bastards,” 
And they danced between chuckles for another half an hour. 
“Wait, wait, you’re going to compress her spine,” Derek stopped, Bugsy dipped at his waist where he was supporting her full weight because she’d complained she missed dancing with Penelope. She hated people walking on eggshells around her, and if anyone was going to have fun with her who could still make sure she was safe, it was Derek. 
The woman grinned up at him, Derek’s hands safely around her waist and not pressing on her ribs whatsoever, though she had to admit she was ready for another dose of painkillers after a few hours of dancing between Hotch, then to JJ who had swiftly been taken over by Henry who wanted to be lifted high enough he could hold Bugsy’s hands like he had seen the others doing. David had even entertained her with a very slow three step waltz, until Derek had been her next target because he seemed to be having the most fun whirling Emily around the dance floor. 
“Spencer!” She said and Morgan returned her to full height once he saw Reid’s fretful expression. She pouted, “Spencer, I was having fun,”
“You know what’s fun? Eating cake is fun, drinking water is fun, resting on the couch is fun,” He said, and Morgan was quick to hand the baby Prentiss over to Reid who rifled around his pocket to produce the tablet version of her buprenorphine, “You need more medicine or it’s going to hurt worse in the morning, remember? Getting ahead of the pain?”
She sighed, nodding, and before he could pop two out of the shiny, metal coated tray, she stopped him, “Wait, dance with me first,”
He looked at her incredulously, eyes softening when she stepped closer to him, her hand coming over the top of his to push the pain killers away, “It’s going to hurt more if you don’t get ahead of it now,”
“I know, I know,” She muttered, nodding docilely, “Look, I promise if you just dance with me a little now, I’ll have my meds and take it easy for the rest of the night, no questions asked,”
He looked unconvinced, because she was known to put up a fight when it came to doing something she didn’t want to. 
She sighed, “If I sit down now, I know I won’t be getting back up again for the rest of the night, and I wanted to enjoy myself until I couldn’t anymore,”
Spencer looked at her pleading puppy dog eyes, and broke almost embarrassingly fast, letting her follow his hand into his pocket, putting the drugs away and letting her take his now free hand in his own. 
“I’ll have it known I tried to stop this when this catches up to you and you have to go lay down on Rossi’s spare bed,” He argued back, but felt his stomach flip when she laced her fingers with his, pushing herself closer to him as a means of drawing him out of his grumpy mood. 
“He has more than enough, just dance with me,” She brushed his attitude off, wrapping her plaster-cast over his shoulder. 
He took her waist gently, feeling the plush, softness of her hips and wishing the heat away from his cheeks. She looked divine under the fairy lights, ready to be whisked away by sleep yes, but the sleepy blinks added to her charm, and she was soft and pliant under his touch like a tame cat ready to curl up on his chest.
“I had so much fun,” She said, meeting his adoring gaze, probably because he couldn’t drag his eyes away from her. He nodded, worrying then if his hair was sitting right or if hid bowtie needed straightening. She was a goddess in his arms, the colour of her dress matching her skin beautifully, a few wisps of hair falling over her eyes from where Penny had damn near done the quick step with her. 
She looked like a dream.
“I never thanked you for everything you did for me when Emily was-” She gulped, her eyes suddenly down turned, like she couldn’t admit anything to the hazel of his eyes, not when they looked at her like that. “You were the only thing I had for a very long time, and I never really said how much it all meant to me,”
“You’re my best friend, I’m always going to be there for you,” He said, lovingly stroking a thumb over her skin, his voice tender as this touch, “That’s what friends are for,”
Even though he was sure he’d never felt this way about any of his friends before, even the tiny crush he’d had on JJ for all of two weeks when he’d first started at the BAU didn’t even make a mark on how she got his chest hammering like a jackrabbit. 
Her face flickered with something he couldn’t read, and she nodded, “Right. Friends.” She swallowed heavily. 
She slumped against him, like the wind had been taken out of her, her head on his shoulder, but it felt nothing like when she had danced with Hotch. 
It felt like everything she’d ever wanted was right in her grasp, like the one person who made her feel whole again was pressed against her, stroking down her spine with an affection she could swear blind was nothing like she’d ever felt before. Like the only air she knew how to breathe was filling her lungs, every note of fresh linen, the hair gel he sometimes used to tame his curls, down to the faint smell of his apartment, so filled with books the smell of worn leather and thin paper seeped into his clothes. 
She couldn’t remember who she was before she knew Spencer. She felt like she’d always known him. 
He wasn’t just her friend, he was every bit of her that she wasn’t. Every ugly part of her that had always felt so alone, like loneliness was just ingrained into her since birth that seemed to jump up in a strange feeling of longing and home whenever he was near. 
She let herself revel in his arms as long as she could, because she knew it was so illicit to be feeling so hungry for something she couldn’t have. She knew he was too good for her; she had never deserved any scrap of kindness he gave her. She could be mean, and rude, and loud, and ugly, and spiteful and he was everything she wasn’t. He was kind, and sweet, and gentle, and loving, and he didn’t deserve someone like her; he deserved so much better. 
Bugsy let herself stay against his chest for a while longer, slowly swaying with him under the moonlight as JJ and Will took each other in their arms; a couple that fit together, Bugsy thought, two people who were so right for one another. Who deserved their happiness. 
And so she selfishly let herself pretend she could have him as long as she could, silently dancing together under the pergola, until she agreed to go sit down because she would never admit that the ache in her side had started to seep back in, and he fussed over her some more and she told him he was being silly, but she preened under his affections anyway. 
They’d reached a stalemate, Spencer would have probably called it.
Bugsy knew she shouldn’t want him, but she did. She shouldn’t want him because he was the pretty boy, the sweetheart that sat untainted by everything he’d seen and endured, the one who had jumped and cleared every hurdle life had thrown at him where she had fallen flat. He had gotten better on his own after Hankel; she had crashed and burned and taken nearly everyone with her. He was strong, and she was weak. She shouldn’t want him, it was selfish, but she did. 
Spencer knew he couldn’t have her, because she was beyond anything he had ever dreamed of, beyond his best friend, beyond the girl who kissed him and didn’t ever want to talk about it again. He couldn’t have her because she was still healing, still wounded and vulnerable and rattled from barely recovering her relationship with her sister before she’d had a bank dropped on top of her. It would be wrong, it would be selfish, she would never want some scrawny kid from a shitty home where he was beaten up by girls even smaller than him and wedgied so hard he had to follow the librarian to class. He was a nobody. He couldn’t have her because she deserved so much better, but he wanted her. 
They sat at a stalemate for a few weeks longer, until Emily got a job offer in London, and she asked Bugsy to take an internship at Interpol one of her old associates had sent to her. Twelve weeks learning how international databases worked, even some forensic work for Scotland Yard if she played her cards right. 
And she took it; without much warning she took it, even if not to give herself some breathing space from how much her chest pined to be back in Spencer’s arms she had that night. 
Bugsy headed to London, and didn’t look back. 
2. The one with Maeve
Four Months. Bugsy had been in England for four months. 
At first, they had called regularly, almost every other day, except the days she was just too tired to stay up until two am to call him when he got home. They had spent an hour on the phone at least; she had asked about the team, the cases, if he missed her yet which he always told her to knock it off because of course he missed her, and he had asked about London, and what England was like, and how Emily was doing. 
Until around two months in when her schedule had changed to night shifts, and they could only ever communicate by texts, at which point he had been the one struggling to talk because he had no clue how to work his phone. She had called the odd time on her half an hour lunch break, but it was always rushed, never consistent, usually ending up with her excusing herself and hanging up on him fast because she was needed urgently somewhere else. 
Cynically enough, the only time she could ever call was Sundays. Sundays when he was already busy, Sundays when he was admittedly on the phone, only he wasn’t talking to her. 
He was talking to Maeve. 
The geneticist he had been ready to tell her all about before JJ’s wedding, who had all but cleared up his migraines within a few sessions, who had asked him three days after Bugsy had flown out what had made his head flare up again and so he’d told her. Told her his best friend moved to another country temporarily, that he missed her and had been looking after her cats for her while she was gone because her new landlord wouldn’t let them have pets. And it had spiralled from there, she had asked more about the rest of his life, and he had asked about hers, and suddenly they weren’t just talking about his migraines anymore, they were flirting. 
He hadn’t told Maeve that he was in love with said friend who had taken a great opportunity with both hands and fled the second she could. He couldn’t hold it against her, not when he was choosing his calls with Maeve over the only chance he had to speak to Bugsy, and four months really wasn’t that long in the scheme of things. 
That was what he’d tried telling himself at least. He missed her more than anything, and the only thing that he’d found combatted the sting of her being gone was Maeve. 
Maeve; who he had never seen, whose voice was sweet and alluring, who got his humour the way girls rarely ever did (besides Bug ofcourse). Who liked what he liked, and could talk his ear off about what she’d been reading, and about her day in the lab. 
She was Bugsy in every other font, every other manner, and best of all she liked him. She told him weeks ago she liked him, that she wanted to date him, that he was her dream guy. 
Call him a cynic for enjoying having a chance with someone, then that’s what he was. 
Life since he had tried pushing away his unrequited feelings for one Prentiss girl had been going swimmingly. He liked their new team mate, Alex Blake, the brilliant linguist who warmed to him quite quickly; he had a girl at his heels who returned his feelings, who was everything he always said he looked for in a partner, even without having ever seen her face, and he was rather enjoying having Nico and Sergio around to keep him company. 
But as it always did, the contented limbo he’d found himself in where he might actually be able to get a girlfriend came to a screeching halt on Sunday afternoon when he was stepping outside at three forty-five, readying himself for the ten minute walk to the nearest phone booth for their call at four pm on the dot. He had just about locked his front door, turning on his heel with his scarf draped over his shoulders when he had collided with someone’s chest. 
“Oh I’m so- Bugsy?” 
“Spencer!” She smiled at him wider than she ever had before, and she threw her arms over his shoulders because he had never protested to her affection before, “It’s so good to see you- I missed you so much, there’s so much I have to tell you-”
“What are you doing here?” It sounded like a confrontation, though he hadn’t meant it that way, just that he hadn’t been expecting her back for another two weeks at least and he certainly hadn’t expected to see her today, right before he was about to go call the girl he was sort of seeing, sort of not. 
She bristled at his tone, because he didn’t sound nearly as happy to see her as she had expected. Pulling away, she realised he hadn’t even bothered to hug her back, and she tried to shove away the embarrassment that she’d never ever felt in front of him before. 
“I- just- I wanted to surprise you. Interpol said I could finish early since I’d finished all my paperwork and could take the exams online in a few weeks,” She stammered, feeling uncharacteristically stuck for what to say. He flicked a look down to his wrist, his brows furrowed like she was taking up too much time, “Is something wrong, did I do something wrong?”
“No, you just-” He breathed heavily out of his nose, running a hand through his hair, “I’m late for something,”
“I’ll drive you!” She jumped at the chance, fishing for her keys in her pocket, “Car’s right out front, I sort of just threw it there because I wanted to see you,”
“I’m walking,” He said, in that frustrated tone again and she stopped looking at her jacket, her eyes snapping to his as he looked past her like she was in his way. 
“O-okay, well then do you want company?” She said, her bag heavy with the souvenir she got him, though now it seemed to be weighing her down. 
“It’s sort of personal,” He replied shortly, like she was a stranger selling him something on his doorstep, when really he was just cursing his luck that the girl he’d spent months trying to get over was here in front of him like someone was waving a bone in his face and he was a pup being told to sit. He was cursing the fact that he had spent hours and hours dreaming of the minute he’d see her again and she had showed up out of the blue after weeks of little to no communication like a damn hallucination of the senses. 
She stopped then, her face contorting into a frown, “Is everything okay, are you sure I didn’t do anything-”
“You could have called, I’m kind of busy, Bugsy,” Spencer replied, even though he knew he was being unreasonable. It wasn’t her fault she was unravelling all of his progress just by being there. He thought he was finally getting over her, and with one whiff of her perfume, of her shampoo mixed with her natural scent, he was remembering just how in love with her he had been just a few months ago, like Pavlov’s fucking dog. 
Her face fell then, into something kicked and hurt, “Sorry- my phone died on the plane, I didn’t even think, I just- I just wanted to see you,” 
He faltered, the frustration leaking out of him, but before he could really say much else, she’d taken a step away, swung around to head for the stairs, “Sorry, I’ll call next time, sorry I got in your way, Spence,” 
And she sounded genuine, not annoyed like he would expect for someone who’d been spoken to like trash. The guilt seeped in almost immediately, but then his mind ticked over the minutes he had left until Maeve would be expecting a call. Nine minutes now, he would need to speed walk. 
He could make it up to Bugsy as soon as he was done with the girl who was almost her but not. 
Spencer felt like an idiot. He hadn’t stopped thinking about the look on her face when she had left his apartment, nor had he not stopped chiding himself for not heading straight out after her. 
His phone call with Maeve hadn’t gone how he’d expected, which would have been the only thing soothing the burn of his scathing tone, except she had hung up rather abruptly after he had suggested they meet up, something that had played on his mind for weeks now. 
“Are you being safe?” He asked, the payphone hard and cold in his hand as he pressed it to his ear. 
She chuckled softly down the phone, a sound that would have made his heart flutter if he hadn’t been feeling so wound up about seeing Bugsy, “Yes, I’m being safe,” 
“Do you think he knows about us?” Spencer dared to ask after a moment of silence, because he could tell it was worrying her too. He wondered if the two of them would be dating by now if it wasn’t for the fact she had a stalker who may or may not turn his attention to Spencer if he realised they were seeing one another. 
“No, as far as I can tell he doesn’t,” She said, her voice slightly more rigid than what he was used to. Her voice was always honey smooth when they spoke, and Spencer had more than enough time to wonder if it ever matched what she looked like. “And we need to keep it that way,” 
The line went dead, and with it the only thing that he’d been telling himself was worth hurting his best friend even the tiniest bit went with it. 
Spencer felt like an asshole. He’d tried calling Bugsy’s phone, then when she hadn’t answered he’d tried asking Penelope, who said she’d gone to visit JJ, Will and Henry since he was too busy. 
At least that would have lightened her mood, he hoped, as he walked into the office Monday morning, and saw her at her desk, already chatting to Penelope with Derek’s arm around her shoulder. 
She was all smiles today, pretty much how she had looked yesterday before he had all but kicked her out, and the sinking feeling in his chest tripled when she looked past Penelope’s shoulder and saw him. Her eyes wavered for a second, head turning downwards as if she hadn’t properly spotted him, 
“Pretty boy! Look who it is,” Derek called him over, even though he was already speed walking and he stopped in front of her, looking her head to toe for the first time fully. 
He realised then her hair was slightly different, that she’d had it cut shorter since the last time he’d seen her, that she’d gotten a new ear piercing. It made her look older, more mature than when he’d last seen her, or maybe he had just not seen her in so long. Maybe he just hadn’t bothered, he thought painfully.
“I saw him yesterday,” Bugsy said, and he felt caught immediately, Penelope’s head whipping to him, “He was kinda busy though, weren’t you, Spence? More of a passing visit.” 
She sounded indifferent to yesterday’s rudeness, like it hadn’t really phased her despite the fact he’d seen for his own eyes the way her expression dropped. 
“I was- I had an appointment,” He said, because he felt the need to explain himself even if he couldn’t.
She smiled at him, something dampened and fake, “I leave for a few months and suddenly boy wonder is too busy to talk to me, what is the world coming to,” She joked, and Spencer felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment, though Penny and Derek laughed. 
“No, really, I had an appointment-” He tried to reason, but Penelope stopped him before he could fret too much, his hands wringing and he tried to lie on the spot without getting caught. 
“She’s just kidding, Spence, don’t worry,” Pen shook him off warmly, quickly grabbing Bugsy’s arm tightly, the faint scar where she’d had her surgery trailing up her skin, “Now, to my bat cave, where we can talk all about just how good British guys are in bed without the boy germs getting all over our gossip,” 
Bugsy laughed, allowing herself to be pulled along, right past Spencer without a second glance, despite the fact he looked like he was about to throw up. 
Why hadn’t he thought about that? Why hadn’t he considered for a second that she would meet anyone, if not seriously, then for a one night stand? What if all those nights she was too busy to talk she had been with someone, someone much cooler and hotter and overall more experienced than he was. He was thirty years old and he had only ever slept with two women, one being Austin the bartender she’d told him to go after despite him lingering around her the whole night, the other being a girl he’d met in O’Keeffes after a hard case when he had been a few months sober, wanting anything, anyone, to take his mind away from going back to the little vial of trouble. 
How could he be so stupid? Of course she’d be hooking up with other people. She was young and gorgeous and smart as a whip and single. She’d be any guy's dream. 
He knew he was being so, so disgustingly hypocritical. He hadn’t stopped thinking about Maeve for months, and yet here he was seething with jealousy at the very thought of Bugsy being with someone who could love her without feeling guilty for loving her. 
Spencer swallowed his pride and set his stuff down on his desk, watching Penelope grab Alex and drag her to her bat cave on her way, the older woman lighting up at the fact she was meeting the Bugsy Prentiss. 
He sighed, running a hand through his hair, and felt a migraine start to ache behind his eyes. 
“Alex- Blake, where are you going?” Spencer called, shoving his cell in his back pocket as he jogged toward the woman about to climb into the SUV.
Sure enough, Bugsy had been back in the office for one hour before they were getting pulled into another case, and she was more than happy to jump in to help with her new found skills in Interpol. 
It was a gruesome case, which was saying something for all the shit they’d seen. The UnSub was amputating legs off one victim to then put onto his next one. There had been one guy waking up in his hotel room with both legs missing below the knee, then another gentleman had walked into an ER room with legs that weren’t his own attached to his sockets. 
It made Bugsy’s skin crawl, but that was simply a day's work for them. They were at the most recent victim’s body; a woman who seemed to have been too weak to survive the surgery had been dumped on the street with her limbs switched to someone else’s. They had at least one other victim they hadn’t found yet, the girl thought darkly. 
“Hotch called, he wants us back at the station ASAP,” The woman replied, Bugsy at her side.
“Can you give me a ride to 5th and Main, it’s on the way?” Spencer asked, trying his hardest to ignore the frown the youngest Prentiss gave him, confusion written across her face. 
“Uh, yeah sure. What’s at 5th and Main?” Alex asked, also confused as to what was so pressing he needed to side track their case. 
“I need to talk to somebody,” He replied shortly, the same cut off tone he’d used with Bugsy just the day before, and Alex faltered. 
“Yeah, uh, okay. Sure.” She agreed, not wanting to rock the boat considering she was still so new to the BAU. She looked over at Bugsy, who seemed disgruntled as she headed for the passenger side, Spencer climbing into the back of the SUV with a troubled look on his face when their eyes met in the rear-view mirror. 
“You’re coming with us?” He asked, looking on edge when he saw she’d gotten into their car and not into JJ’s like she had on their way over there.
“Yeah, is that a problem?” Bugsy asked, and he shrugged, playing with his fingertips in his lap. 
“No, that’s fine, I just didn’t know you were coming with us,” He replied shortly, his face starting to warm when he realised how rude he’d sounded. He heard her sigh, and look out the window with no more protest in her. 
Alex didn’t ask questions as she put the handbrake down, perhaps sensing the tension in the car between the two agents, and she didn’t need to be a profiler to tell there was either a lot unsaid between them or maybe even words that no one could take back. 
Either way she did as he’d asked, because Bugsy hadn’t actually protested, just bit at her fingernails that said she was thinking too hard, and stepped on the gas.
The car pulled around to where a dimly lit payphone sat, empty and looking like it hadn’t been used in years. Which it probably hadn’t, besides as a dog urinal. 
Alex stopped the car, and Spencer was already opening the door before she could even put it into neutral, “Do you want us to wait?” 
“Uh, you know what, it might take a while, so I’ll just get a cab back,” He said, his tone clipped and leaving little room for questions. He felt Bugsy staring at him in confusion from the front seat, and he avoided her gaze like the plague, even if there was something sad in them that he was being so distant. “Thanks anyway,” He hopped out the car slamming the door shut, and digging through his pocket for change as he headed for the payphone. 
Alex drove off, and he felt his chest get lighter for it, because he didn’t know how much longer he could keep up the act. 
He hated lying, especially to her. Every morsel of his being writhed in discontent whenever he would lie, like the truth was just begging to slip out one way or another, and he knew he would only feel all the more guilty for it as soon as the case was over and he couldn’t avoid her eyes that haunted him like a wraith or her touch that seemed to have been kept to herself since he had snubbed her hug at his doorway. 
He knew he was pulling away, knew she was doing the same thing, and he hated it. 
Bugsy sat in the car, her face moody as anything as she glared out the window and Alex took the corner around the block. 
“So is it usually like this between you two?” Alex dared to ask, her food steady on the pedal, “The lingering looks, the awkward silences? From what Penelope told me, the two of you are as close as can be,”
“Yeah, usually we are,” Bugsy replied coldly, and within a second she was unplugging her seatbelt, “In fact, pull back around the block. I’m done with him being an asshole without an explanation.”
Alex felt like she had just pulled a pin from her grenade with her delicate question, though she had meant entirely well, and did as the girl told her to, worried just what might blow up in her face if she didn’t.
Spencer had already dialled the number he knew off by heart, with or without his eidetic memory, by the time they pulled around. 
His face dropped, knowing the returning call would be coming any minute now and he just hoped Maeve wasn’t too worried about him. But he had no time to think about her, because the second he saw Bugsy getting out of the car he could tell she was pissed. 
Pissed in a way she had never been with him, but then he supposed, he had never treated her like that either. 
“I’m going to give you one chance to tell me the truth, Spencer, because I’m tired of the clipped responses and the pushing me away,” She said, walking over to him like he owed her money. Which he didn’t. But he did owe her a good explanation as to what the hell was going on with them, “Did I do something? You can tell me if I’m an asshole, I know I can be an asshole, but you have to tell me so I can fix it-”
“You haven’t done anything, Bug, just please get back in the car,” Spencer cut her off, which was clearly the wrong move as he saw her brow raise at him. 
“Something’s not right, Spencer,” Alex agreed, though she held back because hurricane Bugsy seemed to be more than enough intimidation for the guy, “What’s the deal?”
“What do you mean? Why did you guys come back?” He rushed, because he could feel his face warming, and he played with his fingertips like he did when he was struggling. 
“Don’t answer a question with a question,” Bugsy chided, and he rubbed his palm with his thumb self-soothingly, and that was what tripped him up. Her eyes zeroed on his hands, looking back up at him and he almost went white at the predicament he’d found himself in, “You’re lying about something,”
“No, I’m not, I would never lie to you-” She pulled his hands apart, looking at him with hurt written across her soft features. 
“Bullshit, I know when you’re lying, Spencer, or did you just forget that we’re best friends. That seems to mean nothing to you nowadays,” She snapped, and he could only look back at the phone booth, knowing that she would be calling any second now, “Are you even listening to me?” 
Her tone was hurt, wounded, because he had to admit he was being inconsiderate. 
“A while back, I found a geneticist that helped clear up my migraines, and we stayed in touch while you were in London,” He said, because that was all true, and she couldn’t call him a liar again if he was telling the truth.
“So? What does that have to do with the case,” Alex prompted, her own face scrunched in ire as he hopped around the subject. 
“I think maybe my friend may be able to see something we’ve missed.” Spencer rushed out, his eyes puppy like as he willed Bugsy to stop looking so damn betrayed. 
“You have four of the best minds I know back at the station, you have a woman with a biochemistry master's standing in front of you who dabbled in medicine for fun, but you need your friend for help?” Alex responded, because there was no way he was getting out of the hole he’d dug himself if she had anything to say about it. She too, as new to the team as she was, had no time for secrets on a job where trust meant everything. 
“I know, but sometimes a different perspective helps me think better, okay?” He replied, his hand itching to take his palm back because he knew it still wasn’t the full truth. 
Bugsy scoffed, crossing her arms over one another, and shifting her weight to one foot. 
“You’re being ambiguous, you always do that when you’re lying,” She muttered, loud enough for him to hear and he gulped, turning his head to the ground. 
“All of this begs a bigger question, why did you ask me to bring you?” Alex asked, because she was thinking the same thing. 
“I don’t understand what you’re talking about,” Spencer said, but his spine straightened impossibly when the payphone began ringing, and he seemed skittish like a naughty school child.
“You could have asked JJ or Morgan to drive you, but you asked me. You had a problem with Bugsy coming, because you didn’t think she’d be with us, so what’s the deal? Why me?” Alex pushed, and Spencer flustered, his head whipping around to where the high pitched chime continued, and he knew she didn’t have much time before the line went dead. 
“Alex, please,” Spencer begged, feeling Bugsy’s eyes boring into the side of his head as he avoided her gaze like the plague. 
“Just answer the question,” Bugsy bit out, because she was sick of being ignored all day, of being treated like she was contaminated or like he had never known her a day in his life. Not when she had flown on the first plane back to see him because she missed him more than she could ever tell him. 
Not when she had been racing up the stairs to his apartment, her souvenir in her bag, the words on the foreword written in her own hand ready to tell him how she felt. 
Because she knew it, after weeks of not seeing him, hours of just missing him and the few texts back and forth, she knew it. She knew she had to tell him, even if they had to brush it under the rug to be friends again, even if it was a shot in the dark she had to tell him. 
She couldn’t choke it down anymore.  
Only when she’d gotten there, thrown her arms around him, he almost felt like a stranger beneath her hand, almost felt like he never even knew her.
Spencer sighed heavily, looking at Alex because he thought he might just crack if he looked at Bugsy when he said it. 
“Because I didn’t want them to know about her, alright?” 
And she knew it then, knew it by the way he’d softened entirely when he said her, the way he seemed to melt just by thinking of her, the way he cowered into taking a step back towards the phone booth. It wasn’t just his geneticist, it was someone else entirely. Someone so much more to him.  
Bugsy felt a lump in her throat, and she forced with all her might to not let her eyes well with tears. Because friends didn’t feel like they’d been sucker punched in the gut at hearing they were seeing someone else. Friends didn’t feel an all consuming jealousy writhe under their skin at the idea of them being with someone who wasn’t them, feeling something for someone who wasn’t them. 
That wasn’t what just friends did. 
And Bugsy thought with horror, as he picked up the phone and spoke in hushed, gentle tones that he once did with her, that they might never be friends again. 
3. The one with their first date
Things were weird. Really weird. And painful. Really, really fucking painful.
Bugsy and Spencer had never been like this, never been so cold besides the first time they’d ever met, and even then she had warmed him from the inside out. She was sharing her sharlotka within hours of even knowing him, never even knowing he was knee deep in an addiction he was struggling to face alone, and that she had made him feel better than he had in weeks with her smile and her kindness and her quick witted brain. 
Things were strange between them, and it was becoming noticeable too. 
She boarded the jet behind Alex, the woman taking a seat next to Hotch at the table, the only other seat left being next to Reid, who stopped midway through what he was saying.
“It’s difficult to lure most people from the security of their own homes, eighty four percent of stalking victims have some sort of original connection with their stalkers, meaning-” He paused, and so did she for a fraction of a second, debating whether to sit beside him. She straightened quickly, dipping her head down and looking to the floor, and bristling past the empty seat to sit herself next to JJ on the couch. 
He cleared his throat, trying to look like his face hadn’t dropped in hurt, and continued.
Hotch and JJ exchanged a look, the same silent message reading clear in their eyes. 
The blonde looked up from her file as the others chatted, Penelope piping up from their computer, and glanced at the younger woman who was unpacking her things on her lap, despite there being a perfectly good table next to them. 
“You alright, Bug?” JJ asked, trying not to seem too worried, yet she knew she was coming off troubled by the tense behaviour from the pair of them.  
It had been three weeks of this, the silences, the uncomfortable pauses, the avoiding each other at all costs. The only time they ever really spoke was on a case, when they were closing in on an UnSub and their feelings had to be put to one side for the moment. Well, her feelings. Because all of his feelings were occupied as of the moment. With Maeve. 
She couldn’t stomach talking about the woman anymore, couldn’t stand Derek’s teasing remarks about how lover boy was getting lucky, or Penelope’s thousands and one questions about the geneticist that she knew had come from a place of care, or Alex’s motherly guidance on his love life. The entire thing made her feel queasy, and she stayed quiet most days in the way he’d always hated, the way he’d always tried to pry her out of. 
But nowadays he didn’t bother. Didn’t bother much with her at all, really. 
“Yep,” Bugsy said, her lips tight, “Peachy,” 
JJ knew not to ask any more than that. 
Human marionettes were a first for her, she had to admit. They had already found two victims stuffed into boxes with craft paper surrounding them, their limbs almost entirely broken out of their sockets ante-mortem. It was a time sensitive case, with two deaths in three days and no sign of slowing down, and so that meant that of course the two brains of the team were assigned together, even if Hotch saw the way her face dropped when he’d said it. 
She was drawing the geographical profile on the board, the squeaking of the marker against the screen the only sound in the room aside from Spencer’s flicking of pages. 
“Did you get the first dump site?” He asked, even though he knew she more than likely would have done. 
“Mhm,” She said, not bothering to actually say anything, because it was a stupid question she knew he was only asking to fill the awkward silence between them. 
“What about the store that sold the outfits, did you get-” He started, only for her to cut him off with a clipped tone. 
“Got it, and I got the radius around the store, and I got the second dumpsite.” Bugsy replied, capping the lid to the marker pen and setting it down on the desk beside him, “I’m going to get coffee. Want one?” 
Though she didn’t stick around long enough to really hear his response. She simply waltzed out of the room to the tiny kitchenette the police station had to offer, in search of anything that would keep her occupied and away from snapping at him. 
What had she really got to be mad at him for? For getting a girlfriend? For rubbing it in everyone's face how happy she made him, how perfectly suited she was for him? Except she didn’t think that last one was necessarily true, it just felt that way because it cut her so deep to hear about the girl who was everything she wanted to be. She had no right to be mad at him for anything except being distant with her since she got back from London. 
She still made him a coffee half heartedly, swirling in a tonne of sugar the way she knew he would like, because he never changed being so perfectly him in the time she was away. 
She used to tell him he didn’t need all that sugar because he was sweet enough as he was, because it was true. He used to be entirely honeyed and saccharine when he spoke to her, now she was lucky if she got a full good morning. 
Bugsy bit her lip to stop it from quivering, and took the mugs back to the tiny office they were stationed in, seeing Alex at the door and hearing half their conversation.
“Is this about, uh, phone booth girl?” Blake asked, and Bugsy wanted to snap because what else would they be talking about. Her name was Maeve, she wanted to snarl, Maeve, Maeve, Maeve, Queen of the Fairies and of Spencer’s heart, Maeve, Maeve, Maeve. 
She never hated a name so viscerally, though she knew in deep down it wasn’t her fault. Maeve didn’t do anything wrong, she just fell in love with Dr Spencer Reid and his charms. She couldn’t blame her, really. It wasn’t difficult to do so. 
“She wants to meet,” Spencer’s voice was soft and nervous, and it was the most she’d heard him talk all day. 
Bugsy froze, and Alex’s jaw dropped, “Wait, you guys have never met?” She saw Spencer shake his head just before she rounded the corner back into the office, feeling like she was intruding immediately, “Aren’t you curious what she looks like?”
“Oh, it doesn’t matter what she looks like, she’s already the most beautiful girl in the world to me,” She stopped at the doorway, feeling like she’d had the entire cup of hot coffee dumped over her chest in a scalding pain the minute she’d heard it. 
Spencer called her beautiful many, many times before, both when she’d been done up to the nines and even when she was running away from a damn wedding in the middle of a storm and she looked like a sewer rat. 
But that didn’t matter, because everything about Maeve was beautiful to him, and that was where she seemed to draw the short straw. Because who would find her selfishness beautiful? Or her spoiled nature, or how she could be so crass and rude she had been in more fights before she started the BAU than she’d care to admit. But Maeve was nothing like that. She was sweet and gentle and beautiful on the inside. 
Bugsy plonked his coffee down harder than she’d wanted to, and he thanked her, pausing for a second as he looked between Alex and Bugsy, the second woman now sipping her steaming coffee freely and pinning maps to an adjacent board as if she couldn’t hear a word they were saying.
“What if she doesn’t like me?” He said, fiddling with his sleeves, “I mean; I slouch, my hair’s too long, my tie is perpetually crooked,” 
“Your hair’s fine,” Alex combats back, watching the girl down her drink in a few sips, “Jesus, do you have asbestos in your throat?” 
Bugsy turned to her and shrugged silently, “I’m tired, I needed the caffeine,” 
Alex watched her with a hesitant eye, as if she was keeping just as close an eye on her as Jennifer but didn’t want to say, before she stepped away from the doorway, “Alright, I gotta run. You kids update us if you find something out.” 
And with that Blake took her leave, leaving the room in silence for a moment, and Bugsy heard Spencer thinking too loud with that big brain of his. 
She sighed, tacking a map of the city up next to the other one with points of interest noted on, “You’ll be fine,” She said after a minute, and he froze. 
“I’m sorry?” He asked, formally like she asked to sit next to him on the bus or to squeeze past him in a store. 
“I said you’ll be just fine on your date with Maeve,” She reiterated, using a purple sharpie to start drawing the routes the victims took to work. 
Spencer sighed, shuffling papers around his desk, “How can you be so sure?” 
She looked at him then, properly looked at him and he felt his breath almost catch. He’d been telling another one of his half truth’s earlier, because he couldn’t very well say just how many night’s he’d thought about Bugsy being all over him, about kissing her and sweeping her off her feet, about squeezing her close to him in a passionate embrace and never letting her slip away again. He thought about all the times she professed how much she loved him and how good a friend he was to her, and how happy she made him, and how he had spent the first year of knowing her getting to know her for that big brain of hers that rivalled his own. 
He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anything, but he couldn’t have her. He could have Maeve though. He could meet her and fall in love with her and marry her. He could do it. But she still wouldn’t be her. 
She smiled at him like she had a secret, one she was willing to share with him, one that came at a cost but she would give it to him anyway because it was him and she was so good to him and deserved so much better. 
“What’s not to like about you, Spencer?” She said softly, her expression that of a street dog looking for scraps.
He swore he shuddered when she said his name like that, but he tried a smile back at her anyway. But it was too late, she’d already turned away to continue plotting the points on the map. 
Spencer felt his chest swell in a way Maeve had never gotten it to do.
He felt stupid. Half an hour of primping himself in the BAU bathroom, worrying and fussing over what he was wearing and if his hair sat right and if his face looked too skinny, he had made it to the restaurant only to baulk at the last minute when he’d seen a guy in a booth flicking his head to look back at where he was sat in a window seat, a red rose potted in the middle of the table and an empty chair across from him. 
He had panicked and called Maeve, told her to go home because her stalker was there at the restaurant, and she had done just that with little to no question. Only for him to see, minutes later, the guy he thought was her stalker being approached by another guy and he realised he had likely been looking out the window to check for taxi’s parking outside the restaurant. 
Spencer had blown it, the one chance he had at meeting her in person, and he felt more like an idiot than ever. 
He didn’t care about the weird rift between them at that moment, he just wanted to see Bugsy, because she always seemed to know what to say to make him feel better. Like she had a talent for it, even when he had not been the best friend himself. 
He knew he had to fix it, knew it didn’t matter if it was a little unethical to be on the cusp of having a girlfriend whilst also pining after his best friend, he didn’t care. He wanted to set things right with her just to have his best friend back. 
He walked up to her apartment complex, the excuse already brewing in his head that he missed Nico and Sergio, that he maybe missed her a whole lot too but he knew the cats were a sweetened deal way of getting him through the door. Because she would never say no to him seeing the boys. 
And then he would tell her, that he’d been an asshole the past few weeks, that he’d been struggling to understand how to balance time between her and his almost girlfriend, because that was a much better half truth than the fact he was trying to bury his feelings for her so deep they couldn’t see the light of day or else his life would be entirely ruined. 
That’s exactly what he would say.
Spencer felt a little better than he had leaving the restaurant knowing he’d messed up his chance. In all honesty, he was excited to have Bugsy back, even if his night wasn’t exactly going to plan. 
He waltzed up the stairs he’d been on a million times. She loved his apartment, she always said so, but he insisted her TV was bigger and so they usually stayed at hers to watch Dr Who when the newest episodes came out. 
Spencer hesitated for a second, hoping his plan worked before he rapped on the door with boney knuckles, his hand fingering the strap of his bag nervously as he heard her moving behind the door. 
“One second!” She called, and he chuckled, she had probably fallen asleep on the sofa without pants on, or maybe even just gotten out the shower, either way he heard her scrambling to get clothes on and then-
She swung the door open, and his eyes quickly dropped to her neck that had a long row of hickeys trailing down to her collar bone. His small smile at seeing her vanished like one of those magic tricks he liked to do, and he realised her lip gloss was smudged over her chin, her shirt definitely wasn’t her own and he didn’t actually think she had even bothered to put on underwear beneath the large band tee she’d clearly thrown on in the middle of passion. 
Bugsy looked like she’d seen a ghost. 
“Spencer!” She said, her voice choked up like she was exhausted, and he felt his stomach turn. He looked away from her, like he couldn’t stand to even look at her, “I thought you were with Maeve- yo-your date,”
“I had to cancel, it wasn’t safe,” He murmured, tugging the strap of the bag tighter around his shoulder. 
He felt like a complete loser. More than he ever had being shoved into lockers, being dipped into toilet water, being led around by the librarian and her damn butterscotch. 
Spencer felt like his chest was caving in, which he knew was fair on no one to admit, but it was true. 
“Are you okay?” She asked immediately, scanning him over for wounds, “Are you hurt- Is Maeve okay?”
He opened his mouth to reply when he heard foot steps and a hand appeared around her waist, tugging her into a muscled body as the door opened wider. 
“Who is it, babe?” A deep voice spoke, and Spencer felt his face go green when he saw the adonis of a man who stood behind her, his chest littered with smudged lip gloss and bruises resembling her own neck trailing down to his crotch. 
Her face was on fire when Spencer looked back at her, something betrayed in the hazel of his eyes which he knew was entirely illicit to feel in the circumstances, but it was true. 
“Fuck off, Renly,” She shoved him back behind the door, looking at Spencer like the friendship between them they were scrambling to salvage hung in the balance with whatever she said next. “You remember Renly, my lab partner at Johns,” 
Spencer nodded, the image of her lips on his pubic bone wouldn’t leave his mind, and he wondered what came after that, “I remember him,” 
She nodded back, and they went silent. 
They’d found themselves back at that stalemate. 
--
TAGLIST:
@release-your-sweets @smileykiddie08 @caramelised-onions. @the-tpd-bau @stephthepeach @sunflowersndpeaches @sammy-4103 @starmansirius @yeonalie @delusionallooney @hades-disappointment-child @sadbae-33 @mdanon027 @swag13r @frickin-bats @bilesxbilinskixlahey @mindfullycriminal @mrsbellastyles @nilopillo @imagines--galore @bluejaysaysstuff @imaginexred @flow33didontsmoke @spicyspirit @mywellspringoflife @lovelyygirl8 @pleasantwitchgarden @star-girl-interlud3 @rosylnsworld @jamieolivia27 @halcyonwithletters @waywardhunter95 @ineedtosusoutmyreadinglist t @theoraekenslover @niktwazny303 @bliindmattmurdock @alyeskathewave @littlemadamred @yondiii @cultish-corner @lllucere @escapismurmom @stillhere197 @hiireadstuff @amortencjja @queermaxwooo @telengraph @ivyflowers13 @estrela-rogers @greenvita @busy-buzzing
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zepskies · 2 days
Text
Imagine: Soldier Boy Getting Jealous...
Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x F. Reader || (past Frenchie x F. Reader)
Request: Soldier Boy finding out you had something with Frenchie, years before meeting him.
Word Count: 1K
Tags/Warnings: Jealousy lol (With a hint of spice.~)
Imagine: Ben getting jealous over your past relationship with Frenchie.
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He doesn't care.
Because he doesn't care...
When you sit him down in the living room of your apartment and tell him you used to date Frenchie, Ben's reaction is mild at best. To the point where it kind of concerns you.
Ben raises a brow and gives a deep hum.
"Oh, really? That limey bastard?" he remarks. He takes a sip from his tumbler of whiskey. You give him a weary sigh.
"I'd appreciate it if you didn't call him that," you reply. You and Frenchie are still friends. Your "entanglement" was years ago, before he even started hooking up with Cherie.
But you still want to be honest with Ben. You two have been dating for a few months now, and it's actually serious. No one's more surprised than you by that fact, but...you're happy. You think he is too.
At your response, however, Ben rolls his eyes and continues drinking. You tilt your head in suspicion.
"So you're chill?" you ask.
"Chill?" he quirks a brow at you. Your lips form a smile.
"You're okay with this," you amend.
Ben shrugs and turns on the TV, trying to navigate the streaming apps. You’d put him on to Game of Thrones. Even three seasons into his binge-watching, he doesn’t want to admit that he’s hooked.
"You're fucking a real man now, sweetheart. No skin off my nose," he says.
It's your turn to roll your eyes, despite a warm blush stinging your cheeks.
But the next time you all go out together to a club in the city, Ben watches you leave his side to say hello to your friends: Annie, Hughie, Frenchie and Kimiko. Frenchie takes your hands and makes a show of looking you up and down.
"Well, well. She shoots to kill tonight, eh?" Frenchie says. When he leans in to kiss your cheek, he whispers, "Ah, black leather. My old favorite."
"Stop," you warn with a smile, hitting his shoulder. He's absolutely shameless. "You're too much."
"And you are just enough," Frenchie returns. He whistles playfully as he raises your hand to twirl you around, showing you off in your little black dress and red-bottom heels.
You laugh, but you bump into Ben when you twirl for the second time. Your laughter cuts off abruptly when you see the flinty look on his face, though he's clinging to stoicism.
Frenchie eyes widen as he seems to realize the very real danger he's put himself in. He wisely lets go of your hand, pivots on his heel and goes with Kimiko over to the dance floor.
Meanwhile, you move back to Ben's side and try to placate him by looping your arm through his. He responds by wrapping a strong arm around your waist. His eyes bore into the back of Frenchie's head so hard, you almost expect laser beams to come out of them.
"Come on, let's get a drink," you suggest, patting a hand on Ben's chest. He looks good tonight in a burgundy button-down shirt tucked into his slacks.
Ben wordlessly agrees to your suggestion, but he grabs a stool and drags it close to his own seat. He does help you by the hand onto the stool, but then his arm wraps back around your waist, pulling you in snugly, possessively to his side.
You try not to smile in amusement. It's a caveman's display, but at least you know the root cause this time.
...Okay, maybe you feel the tiniest bit complicit, but really, you think Ben's overreacting.
After he flags down the bartender and orders his bourbon and your martini, you tap against his bearded cheek, earning his green-eyed attention.
"You okay?" you ask knowingly.
"Just fine," he deadpans.
"Oh, well that's convincing," you say with a smile. "Do I need to remind you that I'm here with you?"
Ben's gaze hardens. "I don't know. You were pretty happy to let that French whore put his fucking hands all over you—"
"All right. Calm down, Rambo," you say, trying not to laugh as you rub his arm. "Sorry, baby. That's just how we've always cut up. It doesn't mean anything."
Ben scoffs in derision. "Yeah? Fuck if I care."
You frown at that, sparking with annoyance. Somehow, now you actually do feel guilty. You and Frenchie have bounced off each other like Derek and Garcia for so long, you didn't even realize how it might look...or how it might make your boyfriend feel.
Because even with all that ego and injured pride, you have a feeling there's a real sting of hurt under there.
"Hey," you say, squeezing Ben's wrist. His gaze remains stubbornly on the bartender making your drinks.
You decide to take matters more firmly into your hands.
Reaching up for his chin, you guide Ben's face toward yours and press a kiss to his lips. It's slow at first, but it soon gains in passion. His teeth graze your bottom lip, before his tongue demands entrance into your mouth with claiming purpose.
It elicits a hint of a moan from you, your fingers clenching in his hair. Your nails drag against his scalp, almost making him shudder.
Your supple lips eventually pull away from his, nice and slow.
"Your hands are the only hands I care about touching me," you say. Your expression twinkles with mischief as you toy with the zipper on the side of your dress.
"As a matter of fact, I need your help," you add. "This zipper keeps catching on something. I think it's stuck."
Quite possibly because someone got a little handsy in the cab on the way here.
Ben smirks, though he claims your lips in one more slightly rough kiss before he answers.
"Well that is a problem," he says. His eyes roam down your face, taking in your thoroughly kissed lips, and the cleavage peeking out at him from the neckline of your dress.
"Think I can give you a hand," he says, as his actual hand slips down your leg. His fingers brush along the inside of your thigh, tingling across your skin. His half-lidded gaze once again meeting yours. "Better take you out back and fix you up."
You laugh, despite the return of your blush. You cling to his shoulders, while his fingers burn a tantalizing trail upwards.
"Oh, yeah. Save me, Soldier Boy!" you tease.
He snorts in response, but he helps guide you out of your seat.
Moments later, all your friends find at the bar are two forgotten drinks and a couple of empty stools.
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AN: Ah, jealous Ben. It's fun to imagine. 😂
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Ko-Fi Me ☕
Soldier Boy Masterlist
Main Masterlist
SB Tag List (Part 1):
@melancholictearz @spnwoman @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions
@samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @anticxrrupt @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky
@teehxk @midnightmadwoman @iprobablyshipit91 @agalliasi @venicesem
@deans-spinster-witch @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees
@xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @mimaria420 @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley
@sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester @skyesthebomb @this-is-me19
@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007
@wincastifer @emily-winchester @tearsfortheyouth @solo-pitstop-vibes @dope-trope-105
@liuope @beautyvaliant @xxlaynaxx @chernayawidow @tmb510
@iamsapphine @roseblue373 @lacilou @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @waynes-multiverse
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wh1msic4alwasab1 · 2 days
Text
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"𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫"˚ ₊‧꒰ა $ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
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synopsis: after losing a bet in the casino a day prior, your boyfriends gamble against you was for his girlfriend to show up with him the next day in a sultry, but fun outfit ;)
tags: semi-public, oral, pet names (bunny), vulgar, explicit
wrd cnt: 600+
a/n: i wasn’t even a huge aventurine fan before this but lord this was fun to write
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Aventurine, your boyfriend, stood before you, his piercing eyes gleaming with anticipation. He was dressed to impress, his tailored suit accentuating his chiseled features. You, on the other hand, were clad in a bunny costume, complete with fluffy ears, a cotton ball tail, and a revealing corset. It was his request, and you had reluctantly agreed, knowing it you’d be a swindler for all eternity if you didn’t complete your end of the bet.
The casino was bustling with people, just like the day before. The sound of clinking glasses, chatter, and the constant hum of slot machines creating a cacophony of noise. You had chosen a relatively secluded spot, nestled between two rows of slot machines, but it was still very much in public. The thrill of being caught added to the excitement, and she could feel her heart racing in her chest.
"Get on your knees, loser," Aventurine chuckled, his voice low and husky, as he ran his fingers through your hair, sending shivers down your spine.
You nodded, her eyes locked on his, as she dropped to her knees. The cold, hard floor beneath you was a stark contrast to the warmth of your skin, but you didn't care. You were here to make good on your word, and plus, it was all too ridiculous to take seriously.
Aventurine's eyes never left yours as he unzipped his pants, revealing his already-hard cock. "Go on, bunny," he whispered, his voice laced with desire.
You obliged, fingers wrapping around his shaft as you began to stroke him. You played with his tip, slapping it down on your tongue while looking at him as he played on the slots, flushing money down the drain as if it was worthless.
You kissed down his length, teasing him just a while longer before uour mouth enveloped his cock, taking him deep into your throat. Aventurine's eyes fluttered closed, a soft groan escaping his lips as you worked your magic.
"Fuck, you're so good at this," he whispered, his voice trembling with pleasure. "You're a dirty little whore, aren't you? Yeah…now keep going.”
You hummed in response, the vibration of your lips sending shivers down his spine. His hips began to buck, his cock pistoning in and out of your mouth as he chased his release, while trying to stay as neutral as possible as people constantly walked by.
The sound of clinking glasses and laughter from the nearby bar grew louder, but you didn't care. You were lost in their own little bubble of desire, where nothing else mattered.
As Aventurine's orgasm approached, he pulled out of your mouth, his chest heaving with excitement. "I'm going to come all over your face, mkay’ bunny?," he whispered, his eyes blazing with intensity.
You nodded, your heart racing with anticipation.
With a few swift strokes, Aventurine came, his load splashing across your face, dripping down your chin and onto your corset. Your closed her eyes, feeling a rush of arousal flow down into your cunt, wishing he’d just let you ride him where he sat; and he probably would if he was just a little drunk and had no problem with getting you two arrested.
As you opened her eyes, she saw Aventurine's gaze locked on your, his eyes burning with desire. "Shall we make another bet?"
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whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.
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amongemeraldclouds · 2 days
Text
sweet dreams
It should have been simple: boy meets girl then falls in love. Except everything only happened in his dreams. Can Theodore Nott bridge the gap between fantasy and reality to get the girl of his dreams?
Inspired by Taylor Swift's song, Guilty as Sin?
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Theodore Nott x f!Reader
Warning: Fluff, some smut so 18+ only MDNI, characters are aged up. Uses a magical concept that deviates from canon.
✿ Masterlist | 2.9k words
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Prologue
The door creaked as you swung it open to leave The Three Broomsticks, eager to breathe in the cool evening air. You scrunched your note as smoke invaded the fresh air you hoped for and turned towards the culprit, Theodore Nott. You didn’t know him personally, but guys as popular as him did not need introduction.
He didn’t notice you as he took another puff and the streetlamp cast him in a soft halo. It was not fair how some people could look so effortlessly gorgeous. 
“Want one?” He reached out when he finally saw you staring, offering you his pack of cigarettes.
You huffed, “No thanks, I was hoping for some fresh air.”
He simply shrugged and turned the other way, smoking in a different direction and out of your way.
You hoped the cool air could return some of your sobriety, but nothing was as effective as a good ol’ near de*th experience. You looked up when you heard someone shrieking from the distance, growing louder and louder until you saw a broomstick zig zag across the sky that was quickly hurtling towards you and Theo.
Theo was quicker than you, holding his wand out and casting a spell just fast enough to redirect the impact to an open space. By the time you held your wand out, you had enough wits about you to cushion the witch’s fall.
You ran towards her to make sure she was fine. She laid on the ground as if she was peacefully sleeping, oblivious to the accident. You crouched beside her, arm outstretched to wake her when-
“Oh bumbling broomstick!” She yelled out and sat upright. You yelped in surprise, yanking yourself back and landing on your bottom. Theo was there within seconds, offering you a hand.
You took it and it was unbelievably soft, his grip strong as he supported you back up from the ground. You registered the smell of alcohol and cigarettes with a subtle hint of expensive cologne. You wanted to take another whiff, but reminded yourself to focus.
“A - are you okay?” You turned back to strange woman, careful to keep your distance this time.
“That chap knows sod all about wizard engineering. Mixing magic and muggle work - ridiculous!” she spat in disdain, dusting off her dress.
She turned around, catching your worried look and Theo’s stoic expression, noticing you both for the first time. “Oh my, where are my manners?” She asked, straightening her back and introducing herself.
“I’m Miss Amelia Adams, thank you for rescuing me,” you shook hands and smiled at her politely, introducing yourselves in return.
Your eyebrows knit together as she fished around her bag, looking for something.
She beamed when she found it and held out a daisy for you. “To properly thank you, please accept this flower,” she then leaned in conspiratorially, “it grants a wish.”
She winked before gathering herself and her ‘bumbling broomstick’ as she called it. “Well, I’m off,” she declared, walking away as quickly as she had come before you had any chance to say goodbye.
You were stunned, holding the flower in your hand. You scoffed at the idea of wishes, the only way to get something is to go out there and take it. Hard work and strategy was far more effective than any wish. After a few moments of awkward silence, you turned to Theo. “That was…” you trailed off, trying to find the right word.
“Odd,” he completed for you, just as stunned as you were.
“Are you okay?” You asked Theo. He grunts and you reassured him you’re fine in return.
“Have this flower, you saved us first. Thanks, by the way. You should get the wish,” you said casually, only half believing the mysterious Miss Amelia.
He accepted it and placed it in his coat, stoic expression still in place. When he said nothing else, you turned on your heels to go back to your friends in the pub.
You paused when Theo called after you as if saying goodbye as an afterthought. “See you at school?” He said. It seems he recognized you too.
You turned around and gave him a friendly grin, “in your dreams,” you said in a playful tone. Despite being school mates, you and Theo revolved around different orbits. You experienced just enough failed relationships to know better than to start a friendship with Mr. Emotionally Unavailable.
He just smirked and watched you go before returning to his cigarette. Had he held the flower in his hand, he would have noticed it glow before bursting into tiny glitters, a wish about to come true.
That night, Theo first dreamt of you.
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Main story, months later
The booming party music faded when Theo heard the familiar sound of your laughter. He shifted in the Slytherin common room couch as his entire focus gravitated towards you like you were the sun his planet revolved around.
It was always disorienting, he thought, to hear and see you somewhere outside his dreams. Mostly because you never looked his way here but in his dreams, you’ve given him everything he ever needed and more.
He recalled the first words you ever said to him in his dream, “you again?”
“Is that such a bad thing?” He asked with his boyish grin, amused. He wasn’t used to seeing this reaction from others except for his friends.
He no longer remembered the rest of that conversation, but one minute you two were laughing at something silly and the next, he was tucked comfortably in bed. It was then he realized it was all a dream he could just laugh off and forget about. It was no longer funny by the third night he kept seeing you. 
You both discussed how absurd this all was until you realized how fun it could also be. So you tested different ways you could take your power back and control the dream you found yourselves in. He discovered you were smart and funny, it warmed something in Theo’s heart that he did not care to examine.
Soon enough, he was flying with you through the sky, swerving through clouds as the stars blurred past like strings of fairy lights. You both flew like it was the most natural thing in the world, no broomsticks needed. He felt like a kid again, fearless and free.
One time, he went to a muggle amusement park you heard so many great things about. You rode on roller coasters and ferris wheels then ate candy floss. You would have gotten a fever the next day from all the sugar and shouting if not for the fact this all happened in your dreams. He had never felt happier.
On quiet nights, you laid on cool grassy hills enjoying the evening breeze. Sometimes, you watched sunsets on the beach while listening to the ocean waves. Those were his favorite days. You told him about your big plans and ambitions. He tried to stifle his smiles, but your energy was so infectious. The world felt bigger and brighter when he was around you. 
He’d tell you about his mother. How close they were before they were permanently separated. He said he kept her alive by remembering their happy moments that he’d tell you stories about. He also talked about his strained relationship with his father and how silly his friends were, but oh how he’d d*e for them.
He found himself spilling thoughts and secrets he could never tell anyone else. He stammered every now and then, not used to opening up, but you were so patient. He felt safe with you because you’re a good listener. Besides, wasn’t he basically just talking to a figment of his imagination? He tried not to overthink it.
Theo felt the couch beside him dip as the familiar smell of smoke and cologne announced Mattheo’s presence. “Want to go for a smoke?” He asked with a smirk as he flashed a joint.
“Later, okay?” Theo replied distracted, his focus still on you.
A student rose from the couch and moved away as Lorenzo approached. Thanks to their popularity, the boys always seemed to find a convenient seat when they needed it. He joined the two with a grin, drinks in hand. Mattheo took in Enzo’s disheveled hair and loose tie. He accepted the drink and gave him a high five knowing he already had his conquest for the night. Theo accepted the drink and just held it.
“Who’s the lucky girl?” Mattheo asked, taking a swig from his cup.
Enzo blushed and took a sip of his drink. “You know I never kiss and tell.”
Mattheo rolled his eyes in response, “until you’re drunk enough.” He pushed Enzo’s cup back to his mouth. “Come on, drink up.”
Theo tuned out the conversation and he saw you dancing with your friends, your hips moving to the beat of the music. His eyes darkened as he remembered how those hips rocked into his. It didn’t take long before you first kissed him under the stars when the conversation died down, simply because there was nothing else to say.
All other thoughts and sentiments could only be expressed in the way your fingers gripped his wavy hair, when he bit your bottom lip and you moaned against him. Before he knew it, you were reciting his name like a prayer even though it felt anything but sacred when he slammed his hips into your dripping cunt. He savoured the way your nails scratched his back. He didn’t know until then how someone’s grip could make him feel so wanted.
He always made sure you knew he how much he appreciated you:
“Fuck, you’re taking me so well amore.” 
“I’ll make you feel so good principessa, I’ll ruin you for anyone else.”
“You’re so beautiful when you’re on your knees,” he’d say as he stuffed his hard length down your throat.
He memorized your shape and knew just where to touch you to be rewarded with your filthy moans and curses. He liked making your eyes roll to the back of your head. Loud screams, sheets gripped, chest heaving. He took delight in the way you came undone for him, your little whimpers were so cute he could not resist thrusting faster into you so he could feel you clench against his desperate cock again and again.
His favorite part was after he came inside you when you swiped your finger on your upper thigh and brought his spilled seed to your lips. You said you loved the way he tastes. He always said you could have as much as you want, he was all yours and you were his.
“Theo, mate?” Blaise called out to the unresponsive boy who gazed intently at the crowd.
He turned to Mattheo and narrowed his eyes, “how much weed did you give him?” Blaise couldn’t help but worry about his friends, it was exhausting really. Mattheo pushed Theo outside his comfort zone whereas Theo pulled Mattheo back in when he went to extremes. They always kept each other in check, but he was worried that balance could tip off at any moment. 
“Easy on the accusation, he’s a big boy. He can do what he wants,” Mattheo replies defensively. “Besides he hasn’t taken any green, he’s too high on that girl already. Been eye fucking her all night.” 
Mattheo’s harsh words finally cut through Theo’s daydreams and his jaw twitched in annoyance, “I’m not. You should talk about her more respectfully.”
Enzo chimed in, “you know I hate agreeing with Mattheo, but he’s right.” Ignoring Mattheo’s de*th glare, he continued, “there’s nothing respectful about the way you’ve been looking at that poor girl.”
Theo just rolled his eyes and groaned, not wanting to discuss this with his friends. Even if he did, he wouldn’t know where to start. Instead, he stood up and said, “I’m going out for a smoke,” and walked away before anyone could protest or go with him.
As he walked, his thoughts returned to you. One day, you laughed because of his jokes. He laughed because he was in love with you.
It was all so ridiculous, but it had been months and he could no longer deny his feelings. He always thought love was overrated. How can others go out there declaring love like it’s a wild adventure you’re about to embark on? Love that you would fight and break for? He didn’t want an adventure nor a battlefield.
Then there was you and he realized everything he knew about love had only been one version of it. Being with you restored his breath and calmed the butterflies in his stomach. It’s a love that did not challenge him to be better, but instead told him he is already good enough. That he was always enough. It’s the kind of love that felt like home. It’s what he never knew he needed.
You haunted him even when he was awake. He was always tempted to approach you to see if the things he saw in his head could be real. His only clue was the way you wore ribbons in your hair and how it matched your mood to the stories you’d tell him.
He noticed you wore red when you were angry like the time you had to do a group project by yourself. You wore blue when you felt sad and green when you felt generally peaceful. His favorite was pink because it meant you were happy. He noticed how the closer you got, you wore the pink ribbon more often. But today, you wore a black ribbon. He had never seen it before and it worried him. Then again it was only a theory, maybe it didn’t mean anything.
So he always talked himself out of approaching you. Theodore Nott was used to broken things whereas everything with you and about you was perfect. He knew at the very least to leave it well enough alone.
His thoughts carried him to the Astronomy Tower where he lit his cigarette and stared at the evening sky.
“You always seem to be polluting the fresh air I go out for.” Something in his heart froze and then burned brightly. It was you. He heard the smile in your voice before he turned around to look at you. Salazar, you were so beautiful.
“You always seem to find me when you need fresh air. Are you sure you’re not just looking for me?” He teased, but nevertheless moved to extinguish his cigarette. 
You chuckled at Mr. Arrogant who always knew his way around girls. “I was joking, keep your cigarette though your lungs probably hate you.”
He scoffed, he already hated himself. But mostly, he hated how desperately he wanted to reach out and kiss you without being a total creep. “I’ll survive,” he replied, taking a final drag before snuffing it out. “What brings you here?”
“Aside from the not-so-fresh air?” You grinned before turning serious. “This is a nice place to think.”
“Penny for your thoughts?”
Salazar, he’s relentless. “I’m in an impossible situation and I’m starting to lose hope,” you admit. So that’s what the black is for, Theo realized.
He scrunched his nose as he thought twice about what he was about to say. It was so silly trying to hold back when he’d give you the moon and the stars if you asked for it. “Whatever it is, you shouldn’t lose hope.”
You laughed at him and let out an exaggerated gasp, “coming from Mr. Emotionally Unavailable?”
He laughed in return, “ah, my reputation precedes me.”
“Exactly, so don’t go around saying things like that. People might think you have a heart behind that big brain of yours.”
“Wouldn’t want that, would we?” He leaned in conspiratorially.
“No, everyone would stare at you then.”
“You know it’s rude to stare.”
“Oh yeah? What should I do instead?” You challenged.
“Kiss me,” he said with a smirk, a half joke and a half plea.
You laughed and took a step back, placing distance between you. So this was how he got girls, you mused.
Salazar, he was losing you. If he was going to try, he had to be sincere. No charms, no masks. “Amore, I…” he began but grew self conscious at the nickname. “I mean, I wanted to…” he started then stopped. “I wonder if…” he tried again.
“I know,” you said, fire burning behind your eyes at recognition. This was the boy of your dreams. Awkward when he tries to be sincere and it was so adorable. It always made you feel special because you knew he had walls for the rest of the world. But with you, he was at home.
You closed the distance to meet his lips and the kiss said everything he needed to know. All those evenings together talking beneath starlit skies, exploring flesh and soul, falling in love. They were real.
His hands found the curve of your hips so naturally as he pulled you closer against him, just like he’s done countless times. He savoured the way your fingers made their way through his hair. Everything felt electric, at once new and familiar. It was better than anything you had dreamed of.
When you both broke for air, you found yourself blinking in disbelief. “How do we both have the same dreams?”
Theo just shook his head as if to say he didn’t know but then he remembered your first meeting. There was a witch with a bumbling broomstick and a flower. His eyes widened. “The flower from all those months ago.”
Your eyes lit up with remembrance, “the mysterious Miss Amelia!” You brought your hand to your lips, “I didn’t think it was real. I said you’d see me in your dreams.”
“And now you’re my dream come true, amore,” he said, pulling you in for a hug.
 You giggled at how sweet Mr. Not So Emotionally Unavailable could be. “And you’re mine. See you tonight then?”
He chuckled, “and then tomorrow I’ll take you on a real date?”
You scrunched your face, “but now we can’t fly through the stars anymore.”
“Oh, I have other ideas,” he whispered in your ear.
Your heart leapt to your throat and anticipation hummed in your veins. After all, some things were sweeter than dreams.
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✿ Masterlist
A/N: I've mostly written for Enzo and Mattheo until now but when I thought of this plot, I just knew only Theo could do it justice. So this is how I wound up writing my first Theo fic. Hope you liked it!
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desi2go · 1 day
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Importance
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pairings: dad!Chan x mom!reader
warnings: angst, fluff
summary: Having a child with an idol isn't easy...
author's note: I'm sorry that I couldn't post anything the last two weeks. But here I am with a new one!
Marriage wasn't easy. Especially when your beloved husband was an idol. The Bang Chan, leader of Stray Kids.
Between tours and busy schedules, there was little time for your relationship. But even though it was hard and you missed him like hell when he was gone for a long time, you still didn't regret to come to your best friend Changbin's party years ago. There, you had met him.
Well, he didn't see you and accidentally poured his drink over you. When your eyes met, he was fascinated by your breathtaking beauty. Maybe it was destiny back then. It felt surreal, like he was your soulmate. The missing piece in in your heart and life.
Apologetic, he bought you a drink and after a wonderful night together, asked for your number.
Soon, he took you out on a date and there followed a second and a third, becoming a huge part in your life.
Without noticing, time passed and Chan proposed to you.
You immediately said yes and became Mrs. Bang.
The second you were married, your family asked when you both would begin to try for a baby but Chan and you wanted to wait some time before thinking about an addition to your family.
You still were young and Stray kids took much time and you understood that. Your job was also one of your top priorities and wanted to earn more money.
But it seemed that the universe had other plans with you two. Seven months after the wedding you started feeling sick. At first you brushed it off and thought that it is just a stomach bug or the stress due to work.
As the lovely but overly concerned husband that he is, Chan took you too a doctor to get a check up. Even though you found it a little bit overdramatic, he still insisted and the reason why you felt nauseous was soon found. You were indeed pregnant and already two months into pregnancy.
Sure, it wasn't planned but you and Chan felt excited to have a small addition to the family. And sooner or later it would have happend anyways.
Chan promised that when the pregnancy was farther along, he would take some time off and help you. You agreed to that and decided to work some more months too before you need to go into maternity leave.
The months passed fast and soon, you welcomed your newest family member. A girl. A sweet girl with already some black locks on her head and the same brown eyes that you fell in love with.
Chan was over the moon. Even though during labour, he was terrified. Would he be a good dad? But all these thoughts washed away when he saw the beautiful angel you both had created with your undying love.
He was the first one to hold her as her crying filled the room. Exhausted, you observed the picture in front of you. Your husband with his precious daughter that already looked like a smaller copy of him.
He was told to undress his shirt and to lay the little bundle of joy against his bare chest to help her breath and keeping her warmth while the doctor checked on you because you had lost a lot of blood during birth.
The first weeks were exhausting. Your little girl, Nari, held both of you awake most of the night. Yourself needed to heal and time to recover from the labor, so you relied mostly on your husband who took such good care for his girl. Fortunately, he got some weeks off to settle into parenthood before going back to the boys even though they nearly saw each other every day.
Since you got home from the hospital, four days after birth, they visited you to meet their 'little sister' as they called Nari. Oh lord, they were so smitten. The only one that seems not so sure about that little human was Seungmin but when he thought that nobody would watch, you catched him drawing circles over Nari's hands, smiling when she wrapped her hand around one of his fingers.
When Chan went back, the house was suddenly so empty. After weeks of being together 24/7, the sudden quiet was unfamiliar. In the mornings, Chan was already out, you loved to lay on the couch, your daughter on your chest, snuggling close to you while sleeping.
When Chan came back home in the evening, he greeted you with a kiss and immediately ran off to his daughter to tell her about his day even though she was already sleeping. You loved to observe him while cooking. You loved this little family. It was something that you ever wanted.
You really loved Nari. But after the pregnancy and early motherhood, you needed some space for yourself. You would love to spend an evening with your girls. Just making yourself look pretty and have fun without watching over a child.
Especially since you almost never leave the house except for some stroller walks and buying errands.
You asked your husband if he comes home some hours earlier so that you could enjoy your night. Immediately, he agreed and you were so grateful that he understood you.
On that day, you took your time with getting ready while your daughter slept. You hoped that Chan would be home soon so that you would be on time since you hated being late.
Minutes passed as you sat on the couch waiting for him. Minutes turned into half an hour and you wrote your girls that you would run a little late today. They were understanding.
More minutes passed and you waited already for a whole hour. You tried to call him since he was always so focused on his work so that he sometimes forgets the time.
He didn't pick up and you were already half an hour late. Your girls were already seated in your restaurant, waiting for you to show up so that they could start ordering food.
Sighing, you texted then that you couldn't make it and they shouldn't wait up on you. Frustrated, you cleared your face from the make up that was hours worth of work.
You took off the new dress that you had bought. You were so excited to wear it because it made you feel so pretty again after the pregnancy made you look bloated and your belly was still not the same then before.
You didn't know if you felt rage, sadness or disappointment that you needed to stay home because of your husband.
It wouldn't be so bad if it was the first time after he got back to work. He used to come back at a normal time to have some time with you and the baby. But as the weeks passed, he stayed later and got up earlier so that you saw him just for some minutes per day.
It was like you were all on your own here in your home. You knew from the beginning that Stray kids was really important to him but after entering parenthood you had hoped that he wouldn't stay till past midnight in the company.
You heard the key unlocking the front door and your husband finally decided to come home after he had promised you that he would be here three hours ago. He greeted you with a small peck on the forehead as you waited for him in the living room.
He looked so calm while dropping his bag to the ground and sitting down on the couch.
"Why are you standing there honey?" He asked. You crossed your arms. He didn't even remembered that this was supposed to be your night out.
"Why are you so late?" You tried to remain calm since your daughter slept in the neighbouring room.
"I was working on the newest song for stray kids" he explained.
"Oh really? Because you said you would be here hours ago" you didn't want to pick a fight. You hated fighting with him. It made your heart clench but this night was important to you.
"I'm sorry honey. But I needed to get it done"
"Well, I had plans for the night, Chan."
"Really? I'm sorry honey. I forgot and this song was important"
"The song was important? My reservation with the girls was important to me" you said and couldn't hold the calm tone that you wanted.
"I already said I'm sorry, Y/n. I got caught up in work" He grew annoyed.
"Like always. You're always so late that I wonder if you even remember that you have a family at home" You knew you were mean and unfair but all these things were twirling around your head for days.
"Of course I remember! I'm sorry that I make money for us" he exclaimed sarcastically. His voice loud, nearly shouting.
These words hurt you. He knew damn well that you aren't dependent on his money and that you make good money as well. Even though you currently took a maternity leave.
"Fuck you, Chan. You aren't the only one working. I was asking you for just one thing. Just being home a little earlier so that I could have some time for myself." You said loudly, your voice cracking in the middle as some tears stung in your eyes.
"Y/n. I-" he tried but you stopped him.
"Nari is your child too. Currently, I'm the only one she sees whether it's in the morning or in the evening. And I'm tired. Tired of being the only one raising her."
You heard cries from the other room. You must have woken up your sleeping daughter. Sighing, you excited the room and headed to Nari without waiting for an answer.
Chan knew that he went too far and that he was more away than home. And it pained him to not spend so much time with his daughter. Slowly he followed you to your daughter's room.
It was dimly lit and you sat in the rocking chair next to her crib with Nari in your arms, rocking her. He hated seeing her in distress and guilt crept up. He was a terrible father and an even more terrible husband.
You felt Chan's hot gaze on you. You knew that the guilt ate him alive right now. He couldn't fool you. Therefore you knew him too well.
After placing Nari back into her crib, giving her a light kiss on her soft skin that smelled so sweet like a baby. Your baby.
Then, you took Chan's hand and lead you outside to the kitchen, farther away from your daughter.
He just followed you, deep in thoughts.
"Y/n, I'm so sorry. I should have come early. And I know that parenting a child alone is difficult. I didn't want to lash out on you like that. I know that the meeting with your friends was important to you" he said and caressed your hand.
"I'm sorry too. It's obvious that you try to be around Nari as long and often as you can."
"No, you were right. I need to be here more. Especially with you both. I shouldn't let work take over so much" he said and pulled you into his arms.
His arms circled around your waist while yours travelled upwards into his fluffy locks. Exhausted he let his head fall on your shoulder, all the tension leaving his body.
"I love you Chan" you whispered.
"I love you too. You and Nari are the most important things in my life"
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et6rnalsun · 2 days
Text
𝜗𝜚 CHRIS SMUT / IN BED HCS
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౨ৎ pairing / chris sturniolo x fem! reader
౨ৎ cw / smut, +18
— A/N ⁑ enjoy!! remember that english is not my first language. ( masterlist )
— buddy is obsessed with your ass. hes gonna smack it, no matter where you are and what youre wearing, whether tight jeans or leggings, he will do it. a playful little whistle every time you walk past him and his eyes are immediately on it. he loves when it's hot just because he knows you'll be wearing shorts that are just a few inches longer than your panties.
"she knows how to throw that shi back" this is what he'll say when someone points it out.
& this is one of the reasons why he loves fucking you from behind, and you really don't care if the next day you can barely sit down from all the bruises he leaves on your sensitive skin.
— sloppy sloppy kisses. his tongue will find its way into your mouth every time you two kiss, even if it was an innocent one initially.
he does it shamelessly in public, often m your complaints. the excessive saliva ana obvious tongue embarrass you, since you know people can see it, but he shake it off saying that everyone knows about your relationship so why hide it?
he just really likes kissing you & everytime he's pounding into you, his hand is wrapped around his neck as he kisses you senseless, swallowing your moans.
— is always down for a head. always. this man is really clear when he desperately wants one. keeps raising his hips n shit.
he's not very nice when you finally do it. his fingers tangled in your hair as he continues to push your head down, not even pausing when you gag. (everybody say !! HEAD PUSHER !! in unison)
"come on, i know you can take it, just breathe with your nose doll" he says when you try to pull away, looking at your watery eyes and the tears rolling down your red cheeks. he feels like he can cum just by looking at you.
— i just feel like he's into angry sex and stuff like that. loves to fuck you hard after an argument that has gone on too long, he loves to remove your bratty attitude with his cock that barely even fits in you.
constant teasing, mimicking the things you said when you were angry. he only takes things slowly because he knows you're impatient. he's the perfect bastard that makes you so damn desperate
AND he doesn't let you cum. but he lets you watch while he does. because you don't deserve your orgasm, only his.
can't blame him, he's just getting revenge. <3
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likes & reblogs are highly appreciated.
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tojiscursedtool · 2 days
Note
Hi reqesting a headcanon where in another au toji's wife died while giving birt to megumi and so Toji was by himself and had no clue on how to raise a kid so he went to a parenting class where he met male!reader who also his also a single father. Toji starts falling for male!reader
₊˚ʚ Toji HC’s . ₊˚✧ ゚.
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Note ~ of course, thank you so much for the request!!
MENTIONS — MaleTeacher!Reader, SFW, Fluff?, mentions of death and struggle, kissing, Toji falls in love with reader, Reader takes care of Megumi, some angst-ish, love confessing.
࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃
— After Toji’s wife died he wasn’t really in a good state but he still had to try for the thing she left, their child, Megumi. He didn’t know how to take care of their child and he was completely lost, he’d searched up online if there were any type of learning ways on how to raise a child, there were classes he could attend for people like him. Who were also confused on how to raise a child.
— Toji started attending these parenting classes, at first he was confused but he kind of got the hang of it?..you’d have to help and correct him here and there but that’s what these classes were for, for you to help those who were confused, especially him.
— Toji appreciated your help a lot, he’d even ask if you could give him extra time to figure some things out he wasn’t sure on and you agreed, he was a nice guy and was a caring father trying for his child of course you’d say yes with no hesitation.
— During the times you did extra lessons with him the more you knew about him, and his child. You felt bad for him especially his child. The mother had passed away to birth due to a lot of blood loss, you felt bad for Toji and his child, Megumi. Toji would assure you that it’s okay and he’s grateful he has a helping hand with Megumi and someone who could help him during these hard times.
— Toji was a tough guy to crack, you couldn’t really read his emotions or tell how he was feeling. You both weren’t on that level of trust yet to were he’d tell you everything, Toji needed help with his child that is what he was there for. Not for friends..he didn’t see you as a friend a bad thing though. He just didn’t want to get distracted from the main point at hand, his child’s future.
— Little by little Toji has been picking up what you’ve been teaching him and he was glad he was able to raise Megumi correctly, he would thank you and you were a great help. He’d sometimes gave you a small genuine smile that you rarely see, a different side of him. He really was a sweet guy.
— as weeks, months, and maybe a year went by Megumi was growing up fast, Toji would sometimes come to you for help with Megumi when he was confused on behavior or what to do with Megumi’s change of growth. He’d even tell you that Megumi took his first steps recently and began speaking slowly, you were happy to hear that especially from the lessons you gave Toji you were glad he was putting them to use.
— Time from time Toji would invite you over to his place or even ask you out, as friends of course. He wanted to show his appreciation and also wanted to get closer to you, to be close with someone who helped him through a hard time and is still helping him. Usually he would take you for a bite to eat or a stroll out bringing Megumi, of course you didn’t mind because he was a single father and had no one else to take care of him.
— Toji felt closer to you, trusted you more, he told you how he was feeling more often and was more soft with you. He felt a strange feeling when around you or when talking with you..a good feeling? Like his body was happy and his insides felt fuzzy and warm, he couldn’t help but smile around you. He’d always ask how you are and if you are busy with work so the both of you can make plans, and if you’re free he’d always snatch you up after work. You loved when Megumi came along he was really cute, he even learned how to say your name. It made your heart melt, he was such an adorable kid and Toji was such a good father, you also felt a way towards him but you tried to push those feelings aside, he lost his wife almost a year ago and he was a single father, plus was he even gay? You were sure but didn’t want to push the matter. You were glad the both of you were good friends anyways.
— months go on, you both are still great friends. Toji would still come around to your work place here and there to ask for help or what he should do with/for Megumi. And of course..you were more than happy to help.
— Toji starts to feel something towards you..at first he thought it was just him being comfortable with you but he figured out it was more than that, at first he tried to deny it. He wasn’t gay, he couldn’t be, he has a wife..or well he had one. He feels a romantic feeling towards you and he’s unsure if it’s mutual, he assume it isn’t because he’s just some guy who could barely afford his rent and needs help to take care of a kid. Who’d want a guy like that? Sure he was good looking but he didn’t think he’d even have qualities of a partner. He tried to push those feelings aside and just wanted to remain your friend, he doesn’t want to lose what he has with you already.
— Toji who would always text and call you showing you how Megumi was doing and always made sure to thank you, it really made your day. It was so cute on how good of a father Toji was, he was so sweet towards Megumi honestly so heart warming, you’d reassure him it was no problem and that was what you were there for.
— Toji was usually busy with work to provide for himself and Megumi, but he managed to pull through. Especially thanks to your help, it didn’t help his feelings what so ever, his feelings towards you grew even stronger. He was beginning to love you and he couldn’t control it. To Toji you were such a sweet and cute guy, he’s never felt that way about a man like that before, and he’s never even gave it though..dating a guy? He wasn’t sure anyways. He tried to shove those thoughts away but couldn’t due to the image of you he had in his head. A sweet, caring, loving guy who was great with kids. To him you were also very pretty, very handsome, you made his heart flutter whenever he saw you.
— Toji couldn’t get you out of his mind so he got a sitter for the day and invited you out, he wanted to take a walk and have a talk with you. You happily obliged and were curious to what he wanted to talk about, once the both of you were hanging out he explained to you how he was feeling.
“Hey, sorry for the random call, jus’ wanted to talk to ya’ about sumthin’.” He spoke looking at you, gazing into your eyes before looking away, you told him it was okay and not to worry about it! As the two of you were walking and taking a stroll in the park he confessed..he told you how he was feeling about you and wanted to know how you felt, you looked happy, your eyes where glimmering with happiness as you gave him a warm smile and spoke back to him, “I’ve also felt that way towards you as well, Toji! I did not know you’d feel something like that towards— towards me..it’s honestly quite shocking but I’m really happy.” You hugged him tightly as he hugged you back wrapping his arms around your torso. He smiled before he used his hand to lift up your chin and slowly lean towards you, he kissed you gently and softly. You gasped but got used to it and kissed him back, melting into the kiss as you felt like you were on cloud nine.
— Toji who started dating you after that day happened, he’d cover Megumi’s eyes when you and him would kiss, he’d compliment you, tell you how much he loves you, he’d try his best to spoil you in anyway he can. He’s completely infatuated with you, Inlove, it wasn’t a bad thing because so were you.
— you and Toji moved in together a few months after dating, you would help around with Megumi as he was working, of course you still did you job too you would even bring Megumi to work with you occasionally. You and Toji shared a room, he was sweet to you, he’d help you as much as he could, he’d go on about how much he loves you, protects you, tells you he will always make sure you’re safe and loved when you’re with him
࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃
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essektheylyss · 1 day
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for the ask game: 🧡🖤💚
🧡: What is a popular (serious) theory you disagree with?
Until I see definitive proof that Ludinus is in fact as old as he wants people to believe he is, I will not believe it. I don't even really have an opinion on how old he is; I just don't think he's as old as he tries to suggest. And lest it be said that I am playing favorites, the thing about Ludinus is that he talks the way Essek talks in 91—and there are a lot of things Essek says at that dinner that I take with a good heaping of salt. It's this sense that they're talking around things that they would rather people not question; they're both very skilled at talking around things in a way where they aren't outright lying, but they'd rather you not think too hard about it because there's shit they're not saying. To be clear I also won't be mad if there does turn out to be some evidence in canon that he is that old, but thus far, there is nothing definitive, and I do not take the word of unreliable NPCs at face value.
🖤: Which character is not as morally good as everyone else seems to think?
I don't think this is really an unpopular opinion at this point, but Jester. Nice =/= good. I don't think she's evil, by any means! But her morality is a lot more complex than it's given credit for and I think it's one of the things that is most interesting about her. I'd actually consider her largely amoral; it's just not really an axis of consideration that she worries about. She doesn't want people to hurt her or her friends and she doesn't want something to destroy the world, but otherwise she doesn't really care much about what someone's morality is. "Just don't be evil to me" is an incredible sentiment for a reason. She cares more that Essek said they were his friends than the fact that he's the traitor they've been looking for. Ludinus is so insignificant to her despite his literally world-spanning evil plots that she has basically forgotten him six years later, even though two members of her friend group have spent the last six years trying to pin him down. Jester is hilariously amoral and I love that for her.
💚: What does everyone else get wrong about your favorite character?
[cracks knuckles] OKAY, this is where I've got receipts, because hooo boy do I have an opinion and I will be proving it.
Essek does not have an opinion on the Prime Deities. He does not really have much of an opinion on religion. He actually does not by the end of the campaign have any real issue with the Luxon, and frankly he primarily expressed issue with the Dynasty's worship because, until he got to Aeor, he wasn't certain that the Luxon was a real entity at all—which he contrasts against the Prime Deities, in fact!—and he seems to believe there is compelling evidence in Aeor that categorically disproves his hypothesis that the beacons are simply constructed Age of Arcanum devices.
Originally he is mostly concerned that the Luxon religion is used as a "crutch" which is "distracting them from what other good things they could do with the time and focus". He does specify that any religion can be used as such, but he only remarks upon the one he knows. His theory about the beacons, as of episode 91, is that they may be "artifacts designed in the Age of Arcanum that have been misread" that could be put to even further use.
He also does parrot the Dynasty party line in their first meeting about the Luxon being "the basis of how we've been able to free ourselves from the binds of the lineage the Betrayer Gods left for us", and while I do not take him at face value here (see the above commentary about unreliable NPCs), I doubt the truth of this statement is lost on him, considering his familial connections to Bazzoxan, which I can only imagine would not exactly endear one to the Betrayers, though this is only conjecture. If we do care to take him at his word here, it's not unreasonable, since he obviously has a lot more interest in the power offered by the beacons than anything else.
With all that being said, his tune on the Luxon itself has at least changed by the time they get to Aeor. He discusses iconography found in Aeor and when prompted by the Nein about whether the beacons were created by mortals, says, "I do not believe that they are made by anyone but the Luxon. They are of the Luxon. But they've been around since the Luxon's been in Exandria, which is the beginning."
So we started with him largely apathetic to religion, uncertain if this god was real, and by the time we circle back to him, he has now sided fairly definitively with the fact that the Luxon is an entity that has been around since at least the Founding. (For those keeping track at home, this is longer than Predathos has been around. In the Dynasty's creation myth, it may also have been around before the Prime Deities arrived, which is technically not incompatible with the creation myth of Exandria at large, but I digress.) Like most of Exandria, and as is perfectly reasonable for both his culture and his region, he probably doesn't have any love for the Betrayer Gods, but doesn't express much opinion if any on the Prime Deities. He has no time for religion, but frankly, he doesn't have time for much except for his own research, so it's hard to really ascribe any noted contempt to that.
Like, look, I've written plenty of religious trauma Essek fic, and I don't doubt that that element of it exists, but overall, in terms of canonical statements, it's pretty tame.
With that being said, I do want to fast forward a bit to draw attention to something else. Because I actually do think he ends the campaign with some measure of respect for, at the very least, the Wildmother.
In 140 after the Raise Dead fails, he talks briefly with Fjord about the unfairness of it. Fjord passively directs him to "if you were to ask my wise friend Caduceus..." Immediately after this exchange, Essek challenges Caleb to not accept defeat, and admits he wishes there was more that he or any of them could do, but concedes that, "Unfortunately, this type of magic is beyond my purview."
Immediately after this exchange, Caduceus asks for divine intervention.
Of course, he then spends several weeks gardening in a temple to the Wildmother, and seems to find some genuine clarity and perspective there, but I think this alone is enough to argue that, for a person as driven by empirical evidence as Essek, this sequence of events in 140 would be plenty to earn a wizard's respect.
So my formal belief is that Essek is not in fact anti-god or anti-religion, let alone against the Prime Deities. My opinion is that it's very easy to imagine him on his post-campaign travels leaving a small offering at any shrine of Melora he might pass, not out of actual worship but as a sign of respect.
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chrissv4mp · 6 hours
Text
say you were tryna' make me laugh .❤️‍🩹
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summary: matt lets it slip that he loves you and you try to tell him that he can't, that he needs to take it back.
pairing: fem!reader × bsf!matt sturniolo
warnings: angst, maybe some vulgar language, high-school au, etc.
a/n: PLEASEE i need billies new album now💔🙏 also this might be a potential series....👀👀
matt was your best friend, followed you every where you went and did everything you asked of him. you guys may have gotten into fights sometimes, but only small arguments.
he was perfect, and your other friends had always encouraged you to ask him out. but you never did, because you knew that he never really talked about that sort of stuff because of his social media presence.
and maybe it was also because you were a little scared to, because you saw yourself as unlovable and you couldn't bear to see the look of disgust on your bestfriends face if he rejected you.
you wouldn't be able to be around him anymore if he rejected you, it would be so awkward and wouldn't be at all how it used to be. your connection just wouldn't have that same spark.
"hey, dummy," matts voice erupted from behind you, and you turned to look over at him.
he took a seat next to yours at the small table in the corner of the cafeteria, smiling over at you as he set his tray down.
"hi, idiot," you laughed, cringing as you took a look at the cafeteria food, "seriously, you're gonna get food poisoning from that one day."
matt just shrugged, "well, i got to have a full stomach throughout the day or else i'll be tired during practice. and frankly, i do not want to get yelled at by coach williams."
he continued to grab the apple off his tray, biting into it.
"he's so scary, i don't know how you can even look him in the eyes." you said, and mayt chuckled.
"yeah, well, i've dealt with some scary people in the past."
you knew that was true, and you knew for a fact that he was talking about his ex-girlfriend, summer. she was such a bitch, always controlling matt and the things he did.
nodding, you went back to simple chatter like complaining about how your classes are way too long, and how the teachers don't care about their students.
both of you still remember when matt laughed at those jokes you made about the teachers back when he was dating summer. he still laughed even at his lowest times, even when he felt like dying.
his smile looked so sincere to others, yet only you could tell what was going on in his head, those bad thoughts. his anxiety had only gotten worse when him and summer became a thing.
whereas matt could never tell what was going on behind those eyes. you always kept your composure, making sure nobody got to you.
"catch!" that was the thing you had heard just before a football went flying in your direction.
it hit you straight in the face, and you stumbled to the ground, groaning as you held your cheek.
matt had watched as the boy who threw the ball begin to laugh, and his hands clenched into fists before rushing to your aid.
"y/n, are you okay?" he muttered, grabbing your hand and helping you back on your feet.
smiling at the boy, you nodded, "mhm, just my cheek hurts a little."
matt couldn't contain himself anymore, it was always that same dipshit who picked on you. this was his final straw.
leaving your side, matt went to grab the football before rushing over to the guy. before he could even comprehend what was happening, matt threw the ball at his face.
the tip of the football hit his nose, hard. with how close matt was and how much force he had put into the throw, it definitely broke the guy's nose.
"what the fuck?!" he whined, holding his bloodied nose as he shut his eyes tight.
you could only stand there, hands clasped over your mouth in shock at what matt had just done. he was never the type to have sudden outbursts like this, and he surely wasn't the type to confront someone.
"maybe fight someone of your gender next time, bud." matt smiled fakely, shoving the boys shoulder before returning to your side.
he hadn't said a word to you, he just interlaced your arms and began walking somewhere else in the courtyard.
when the two of you had settled in a more quiet area under a tree, matt finally spoke, "i'm sorry,"
"i guess i was just fed up with him always picking on you. and i mean, seriously, what fucking guy messes with a girl?" he scoffed, rubbing his knee as he looked down.
your lips curved into a small smile as you reached over to grab his hand. you slid your fingers between his, and they fit almost perfectly.
matt's face went pink, and he looked away with a smile.
"i know you just want to keep me safe matt, it's okay. don't be sorry." you said quietly, running your thumb over the top of his hand.
the sky was a soft orange, some pink blending in as the mountains covered the rest of it.
matt and yourself were sitting on a blanket at the park, waiting until it was dark to see the stars.
it was something the two of you did occasionally, and yet you never got bored of it. your conversations were always new and the stars had always seemed to be arranged differently.
matt couldn't help but get lost in the sight of the sun setting, his mind going completely blank.
"you never see a sunset in your life?" you joked quietly, and matt laughed as he looked over at you.
"be quiet," his hand ran over the soft fabric of the blanket, and suddenly all he could think about was you.
the sun set faster than you thought, and soon enough the stars were out. you and matt lay side by side as you stare up at the night sky, fixated on each and every little detail.
the silence was comforting and sweet, the feeling of matt being present beside you made you feel like there was some sense of security surrounding the two of you.
matt's lips parted, and he turned his head to state at you for a little. you seemed so lost in thought, so peaceful like this.
"what ya thinkin' about?" matt whispered, a smile creeping onto his face.
you shrugged before turning to look him in the eyes, "if i said it, it'd weird you out."
his smile became wider, and he turned his head to look back at the stars, "eh, i think if i told you what i was thinking about right now, you'd quite literally slap me."
chuckling, you continued to stare at matt, eyes flickering over all his features.
"really?" matt nodded in response, laughing.
"yep, now c'mon, your thought can't seriously be that bad. tell me, please?" he sounded like a little kid when he begged like this, and that was one of the reasons you loved being his friend.
you dragged your hands down your face, sighing exaggeratedly loud, "fine,"
"i was thinking about how different things would be if we hadn't met." you said, voice soft.
matt nodded, letting a few moments of silence pass by before speaking, "yeah? well, you'd probably be alone woth no joy in your life."
"shut up!" you laughed, punching his shoulder gently.
matt laughed, rolling onto his side to look at you closer.
"now it's your turn, kid." you muttered, smiling at him.
silence enveloped you two again, and this time you could feel a twinge of tension in the air between your two bodies.
he twiddled with his thumbs as his smile faded. he had been full of courage all day and now he couldn't even look at you.
was it really worth risking the friendship?
what if you hadn't felt the same way, what if you didn't love him.
he couldn't even believe the words that came out of his mouth next. they always say sooner is better than later, i guess.
"i love you, y/n." he said quickly, and you almost figured he was joking.
well, until you saw that look in his eyes. the look that he gave summer at the beginning of their relationship.
fuck.
your smile faded, and you just stared at the boy beside you.
matt tensed, his eyes going anywhere but to your own as he let you process what he said.
"you're lying," was all you could say at the moment.
matt's eyes snapped up to yours at the... accusation? he couldn't tell if it was a question or if you were accusing him.
he shook his head anyway, muttering a quiet disagreement, "i'm not."
"yes, you are, matthew. you can't actually love me," you raised your voice, sitting up as you stared down at him with wide eyes.
the brunette boy sat up next, tears welling in his eyes.
crying wasn't like him, he never cried.
you looked away before speaking up more, "take it back, please,"
he was just joking, he was surely gonna say he was trying to make you laugh. right?
no, he was never the type of guy to joke about stuff like this. he was in love with you, really.
matt shook his head again, sniffling as he wiped his eyes, "no, y/n. it's true."
"no, no. you didn't mean to say 'i love you'," your mind was racing with all kinds of thoughts.
why were you even making this such a big deal, it wasn't like you didn't love him as well. it's just that... you didn't want to.
you didn't want to love him because you knew how things like this went. the breakup would be 10x as hard as a normal one.
now you were both crying, and you hadn't even realized until a tear drop hit your bare knee.
"i'm sorry, fuck, i didn't mean to make you cry." matt apologized, his hands shaky as he reached out for you.
you couldn't help but fall into his arms, sobbing on his shoulder as you tightly wrapped your arms around his waist.
he muttered reassuring things as he rubbed your back, his voice sometimes cracking as he also cried.
this wasn't how the night was supposed to go, you weren't supposed to end up red-eyed in matt's arms.
you were supposed to be staring at the stars and talking nonsense.
now nothing was normal, you could never escape the fact that you loved him now.
"i have to go," you said, pulling away from his embrace to pack up your things.
matt stayed silent, deciding that was the best thing to do right now.
you left without another word, and it wasn't until you were halfway across the park that matt noticed you left your blanket.
his lips parted as he let out a quiet sob. lying back down on the blanket, he cried into it.
it was like you were hugging him, and just for a second he believed that you might be able to forgive him.
but then it faded as doubts came crashing into his mind again.
"i hate you," he muttered to himself, punching the grass once before wrapping himself back up in your blanket.
"i hate you, i hate you, i fucking hate you!" he yelled, sobbing.
. . .
tags: @cindylcuwho @55sturn @ryli3sworld @mattsneezing @voidghsts @films4sturni @h3arts4harry @freshloveee @raysmayhem-72 @imtalkinnonsense @chrissturnswife @cheriematt @mattyb4dominicans @freshloveforthefit
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charliehoennam · 2 days
Text
sweet stranger
A/N: request made here by @annekelovesreading
Summary: the war veteran Alfie seeks comfort in a stranger in hopes of returning to his old self
Pairing: Alfie Solomons x F!Reader
Warnings: 18+, smut, reader is a sex worker.
SHARING IS CARING, SO PLEASE REBLOG
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"Thanks for the ride, James. I'll see you tomorrow morning."
You climb out of the Bentley and adjust your coat, smoothing out the wrinkles of your dress before strutting towards the hotel, your heels clacking against the pavement and then marble floors of the lobby.
You sense the judgemental eyes already on you, but you've learned how to ignore them. If their judgement paid your rent and bills, then you'd finally be able to retire. But until then, you did what needed to be done.
The service you provide is simple and clear. You meet the client, humor them a bit and fuck them before leaving at first light.
You are lucky enough to work for a powerful and strict madame that actually recognizes the importance of her employees' well-being and ran a high-end business.
Her rules were clear. No marking, no hitting and contraceptive must be used.
Just because her empire dominates the professional area of sexual pleasure does not mean she runs a funhouse. Many would mistake Madame's care for benevolence when it is really just a matter of logistics.
Black eyes don't allow her employees to escort her wealthy clients to prestigious social events. And the only reason her business dominates is because she assures clean employees to her clients. An employee with the clap gets the boot and replacing them is expensive.
After giving your name at the front desk, you take the keys you're headed with a smile and head to room 403.
The name is not unfamiliar. You've heard plenty of Alfie Solomons and part of you is afraid of what he'll be like, judging by what you've heard.
The ring of the lift snaps you our of your thoughts. You flash a smile at the liftman and thank him before stepping into the hallway.
Alfie Solomons is not your first client - nor will he be your last - but knowing he is the first gangster you're about to meet and sleep with has butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
You mentally repeat Madame's rules to yourself to try and ease your nerves. But then again, do rules hold any standing to criminals?
Taking a couple of deep breaths, you manage to relax as best as you possibly can in the situation and simply remind yourself that he is no different than any other client.
You lift your hand to knock on the door. There's movement behind it and the metal of the lock on the side rattles as it slides to open.
Your lips pull into a welcoming smile at the broad, tall man that opens the door. Taking in his features, you quickly notice his wet hair.
The smell of soap emanates from his large frame along with a faint scent of rum and an irresistible natural musk that almost lured you to touch him.
It's obvious that he took the time to wash himself and, to be honest, you're quite thankful for that.
"You must be Mr. Solomons."
"Punctual little thing, ain't you? Come on in, love. Don't mind me."
His tone is rather calm even with his heavy Cockney drawl. His fingers, however, seem to confess his nerves with the way they flick back and forth.
"Punctuality is a necessary characteristic in my line of work, Mr. Solomons."
"Right, right" he nods as you walk past him. He still can't seem to look you in the eye, but you've yet to discover why.
Most of the nervous clients that you've had were first-timers, young men eager to lose their virginity especially before being sent to war.
Alfie is very attractive and pleasing to the eye with his large strong build, but he is no young boy. You find it hard to believe that this would be his first time being as wealthy, cunning and wealthy as you heard he is.
"May I take your coat, love?"
"Yes, please."
You turn to back to him to allow his assistance, taking in the sight of the hotel room. You've been in this hotel before, but despite that, the lavious decoration of the suite never fails to impress.
Alfie can't help but feel intimidated by the simple scent of your perfume as he stands behind you, taking your coat to hang it for you. He doesn't want you to pick up on the fact that he feels so out of his element.
Before the war, Alfie had his fair share of women. He used to be so different. So young and naive and confident - which is the only characteristic he can successfully feign more than well in the wicked world he treads in.
But now, he's in foreign territory. So much has changed for him.
Getting his affairs back in strict order took so much work, sweat and blood from him that he hadn't prioritized his romantic desires.
If age hadn't been enough, the night tremors made it impossible to sleep beside anyone. Red blotches were beginning to spread throughout his body due to the psoriasis. His sciatica only worsened with age and the harsh conditioning the war had forced onto it. And now the fucking cancer, which only added to his list of secret insecurities.
The confident young man he used to be was gone. Alfie was still human, however. And like many other humans, he yearned for companionship. The problem is that a man like Alfie can't confide in just anyone. He can't expose it without the risk of his enemies seeing it as an opportunity to use it against him.
Good thing about Madame's business is that her turf is neutral and independent ground. For now, at least.
Alfie knows he has to overcome this hurdle if he plans to get married one day and start a family and he just thought this would be the best way.
He's got a beautiful woman in his hotel room; he knows what you came here to do. He's just not sure what to do at this point other than to confess it to you. He doesn't want to say it, but deep down inside, he feels a bit humilited.
It shows in the way he avoids your eyes, the way his head hangs low.
"There's no shame in that, Mr. Solomons. I'm happy to help however I can. We don't have to rush into anything just yet... Do you drink?"
"Not often. Clouds the mind."
"Precisely. What do you drink?" You smile warmly at him.
"Wine is my favorite."
"Let's get you a glass then, Mr. Solomons."
Just as you expect, the wine is successful in loosening him up a bit.
You're careful enough to avoid asking any questions that concerns his business, so you focus on asking him to share things he enjoys like music and books.
After a couple hours and a couple glasses, he's warming up to you as you listen attentively to his childhood stories. Despite the wine, he is cautious enough to leave out certain details that are too personal for you to know that could bring him or his family harm if they ended up in the wrong hands.
You can't take it personal, and can only imagine that trust does not come easy in his line of work which only confirms that pressing him on such information wouldn't be very smart.
No matter how easy the conversation is flowing or how comfortable he may seem to be, you can't forget who he is beyond these four walls.
As he finishes his glass of wine, he sets it down on the table in front of you while raising a hand to his shoulder to rub at the aching knot in his muscle.
"Would you like me to take care of that for you, Mr. Solomons?"
"With what, love? Oh, this?" He asks glancing at his shoulder. "Oh, no. You don't have to do that."
It almost like he's forgotten the reason you're both there.
"Really, I don't mind at all. It's the least I can do for you, sir."
With a sweet smile, you stand as you finish off your glass and set it beside his on the table before walking over to his chair to offer him your hand.
"I promise I won't do anything you don't want me to."
His blue eyes narrow their gaze at you for a moment as if he's trying to read you. You can see him physically tense before accepting your hand.
The talkative Alfie is suddenly replaced by a quiet and insecure version as he watches you, from where he's sat in the bed, take your heels off - your almost bare feet still covered in your black stockings - before climbing onto the bed.
You stand on your knees , which are spread to accommodate him between them, and sit back on your feet after taking the small bottle of rose scented intimate oil from your purse.
"It's like riding a bike. Your body knows that to do, but it needs time, patience and practice, so you have to go slow."
Your breathe on his neck has chills racing up his arms as you reach to his front to unbutton his vest and slide it off his wide shoulders. You do the same with his shirt, but pause before sliding it off as his hand instinctively hold your wrist.
"May I? I'd love to see you, but if you don't want to, I can just slide it down a bit."
He ponders for a moment but replies with a silent nod as he releases your wrist.
You slide it off and much to your impression, he seems even wider and stronger than you'd imagined.
A couple scars and red blotches already here and there on his skin, but they don't stop you from marveling at the rippling muscles.
"My goodness... Mr. Solomons, with all the utmost respect, but you are quite the work of art."
He can't help but smile at your compliment, although he thinks that you're just saying what you think he wants to hear, so it's hard for him to believe.
You let your palms gently wander over his large back and arms, with a gentle squeeze to his biceps.
"Carved from stone, are you?" You joke, bringing a chuckle out of him.
"No, love. Just flesh."
"Fortunately."
Using the pipette, you pinch a couple drops of the oil onto his shoulders before closing the vial to set it aside and letting your fingers get to work.
Alfie groans softly and his eyes instantly close as you start massaging to undo the knot that's been bothering him for weeks now.
"How is that, sir? More pressure?"
"No, love. That's just fine...just perfect," he sighs relieved. "Fucking 'ell, love. That feels fucking great. You've no idea how long that's been bothering me."
"I can imagine. You've got knots like this all round. It can't be easy to live with them.
Slowly but surely, Alfie starts to relax. It's impossible not to. It's been a while since he's been touched by anyone, much less massaged by them.
The tension is his body begins to ease as your fingers work away not only the knots caused by the stress of his days, but the anxiety of being intimate again. It doesn't seem so foreign suddenly.
Building up the courage to place a gentle kiss onto the back of his shoulder, you lower your head and press your lips to his skin.
"Is this alright?" You whisper.
"More than alright."
"I can go lower if you'd like me to."
He nods, so you glides your fingers down the middle of his back, pressing against ether side of his spine.
"Fuck, love... That is heavenly."
You smile at the praises and take it a sign to continue the gentle teasing, moving your kisses up to the crook of his neck.
You take your time to ease him into his arousal. The lower you go down his back, the more convinced he becomes.
"Would you like me to touch you?"
You ask nuzzling your nose against his ear and he nods.
You reach a hand to his front and rub your palm against his clothed crotch. Although you can't see his cock, you can tell the man's been blessed with girth as it twitches against your touch.
Alfie gives in to the instant pleasure and moans, letting all his worries melt away. He can't remember the last time he's been able to feel so at ease.
As you whisper encouraging praises into his ear from behind, Alfie allows you to unbutton his trousers and slither your hand under the fabric to stroke his cock with a firm grip.
The room seems to spin around him. His head feels heavy from the pleasure as it leans back against your shoulder.
"That's it, sir. Just let me take care of you" you smirk kissing a sensitive spot on his neck that he didn't even know could make him tremble.
He isn't sure how much longer he can last. It's been a while after all.
"L-love, you feel so good."
You chuckle, letting his thick cock spring free from its confines.
"You're fucking beautiful, sir."
"Oh, you think so, yeah?"
You nod as your hand strokes his dick, coating it with his own pre-cum and the essential oil you'd brought.
"Lemme get more comfortable, love. Wanna see more of ya," alfie says holding your wrist to stop your movement for a moment.
He stands to kick off his trousers, standing in all his naked glory before sitting further up the bed with his back against the upholstered headboard.
"C'mere, love. Lemme see you hm?"
His invitation is made with calloused hands guiding you to straddle his lap. You make quick work of unbuttoning the dress and sliding the straps off your shoulders to reveal your chest with a sultry smile.
"May I?"
You can't help but smile at how he's a gentleman in such a moment. Most clients wouldn't even bother to remember asking, but Alfie makes you forget that he is just another client.
His large hands reach to knead your breasts, giving them such attentive appreciation as he licks his pink lips, eager to get them on you.
"It's alright, love" you whisper, seeming to read his mind.
The way his beard scratches your sensitive skin has your back arching into his warmth. His gentle and considerate admiration lures you into a trance; into a heated dream where you are able to finally feel like a woman loved.
You welcome him with fingers lacing into his messy brown locks still damp from his bath earlier. Your hips move mindless as you grind your clothed sex against his exposed cock, reminding him how good he feels and how you want him to feel the same.
Shifting onto your knees between his legs on the bed, you pepper tender kisses down his chest and stomach as your breasts dangle down and rub against his cock.
The anticipation has Alfie balling his fists into the white sheets.
"You are the most beautiful woman in the world, love. Fucking 'ell," he mumbles as your hands run up and down his thigh, giving gentle squeezes to tease him on.
"It's gonna be a long night."
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Text
Honey bee (dad!hanjisung)
The whole "favourite parent" theory never really convinced you to the fullest, not with how much Daisy was obsessed with father, her very first word being "dada!", the biggest rounded eyes looking excitedly at him, her cute little mouth just a happy happy o shape as she tuned to her dad when you had first asked her to try and say the word, which nearly brought Jisung to tears right then and there.
With you being the parent that was at home the most though, you were quite used to being wrapped around her little finger, catering to her every need, helping her and caring for her through her trickiest nights and seasonal flu.
Jisung tried his very very best at being as present as possible and not miss on any important milestones such as her first word, which had happened fairly recently, or the first few little steps she walked from your seated figure to him, resting his bum on the carpet, opposite you, both of your arms outstretched for her shall she stumble on her little feet. He was there. Overjoyed.
Whenever he came home from work, be it at 2 in the morning or 4 in the afternoon, he always made sure to go and see his baby, even if it was for a little bit, like his lunch break or five minutes before going to bed, he always stuck to his habit of just taking a few minutes to just look at her, kiss her cheek, play with her or have a cuddle if she was awake.
And Daisy must have developed a sixth sense for that, even for a toddler as young as barely one year old, she just knew whenever her dad was about to come home. And she would become just a liiiiiitle restless and fussy with either excitement or desperate anticipation. Hence you secretly started to believe perhaps he was the favourite parent, probably cause she loved him so, and missed him just as much, despite his best efforts.
Tonight was just one of those nights, Jisung had literally just gotten home not even 3 hours ago, it was way past her bed time but none of you had the heart to deny either of you some bonding family time, or better yet father and daughter quality time.
He had postponed his shower and his unpacking and just picked her up from the floor where she was playing quietly with you, and smothered her little face with kisses and hugged her and hold her and played with her for as long as possible before she required a nappy change and the delayed night time routine.
Neither of you felt like you were being bad parents. Routines and regular sleeping schedules were important but so is being patient and lenient, understanding of your child needs and yours as parents too. A little indulgence and some extra cuddles never hurt anyone.
Bathed and half way through her bottle, baby Daisy was having a hard time concentrating on the soft lullaby bed time story you were reading her, she kept rubbing her small chubby knuckles into her eyes and half giggling cause she was too awake and eager, kept fidgeting and twitching in her sleeveless sleep sack she usually loved being swaddled in.
"Ah I see, you're not so sleepy tonight are you? Silly little bloom you are", you giggle at her cute happy and definitely more than alert face, gently pinching her rosy cheeks, "is someone just so excited dada's home? Shall we go see him? Shall we have dada sing you to sleep tonight?", you suggest rhetorically, knowing that even though she can't fully grasp what you're saying she definitely understands any mention of her father.
With a little huffing and puffing from the effort, you roll over onto the side and get up from her little bed wich you had squeezed yourself in, you unzip her sleeping sack and pick her up, gently brushing away her satiny soft wisps of dark brown hair, just barely curling at the tips, you balance her on your hip, careful to distribute her weight evenly so you don't strain yourself, and slowly pad into the corridor and then into your master bedroom where you find your husband folding his clothes into the closet, his suitcases now empty, discarded on the floor beside the bed.
"Knock knock? A certain daisy bloom is requesting her sweet honey bee to help her sleep tonight", you announce playfully as you cup your daughter's little hand and help her knock on the door, Jisung spins around with a start, his face immediately lighting up, "oh goodness!", he muses excitedly, dropping whatever shirt he was trying to neatly fold in his lap.
He walks over to you, grinning from ear to ear, and gently lifts Daisy from your arms and into his, holding her close to his chest so he can place a fluttery stream of kisses into her hair, "is it true Deiji girl? you want Dada?", he coos, sitting on the edge of the bed, relishing in the way his baby girl latches onto him, her little arms and hands trying to grip onto his neck as she squeaks happily, "da-dda", she blubbers, burying her face into his chest.
He shoots you the puppy eyes, his bottom lip trembling, the look on his face so devastatingly amazed and touched, which you reciprocate, clutching your own chest, watching as he cuddles her closer while he scoots on the bed so he can rest his back onto the bed frame, the baby not even shifting into his arms, her ear pressed onto his pectoral, perhaps a subconscious reminiscence of when she used to do that as a newborn.
Endless were the days when Jisung wouldn't dare breathing too loud, scared he would disturb her sleep, and would hold her like that for hours on end, the tiny shell of her ear pressed onto his hearbeat, his hands rubbing her back ever so lightly in soothing motion, his lips brushing her head every once in a while in a dream like state, or a suppressing-his- leg - cramps - and- impeding- need- to- pee- and- breathe- normally- hazy state. For there was no way in hell he was going to move and wake her up.
Fatherhood. What an immense blessing to have been bestowed upon him. Jisung was the most wonderful father despite the demands of his tight working schedules, he had been pouring himself out for your daughter from day one, and you had been witnessing him blossoming into his nurturing calling just like his first baby name's sake.
"You guys... I'm going to cry", you mumble, feeling suddenly very emotional at the scene before you, "me too... oh... how I missed her", Jisung sniffles, snuggling his baby tightly but still carefully enough so he doesn't crush her, "she's so cuddly I'm going to die", he adds then, holding her up closer to his face so he can kiss her cheeks and her forehead and the tip her nose and her cheeks again and her nose again.
"You are the best cuddler in the whole world you know that sweetheart?", he says softly, gazing into his daughter boba brown eyes, a miniature version of his own eyes, along with the squishiest cheeks and poutiest lips she inherited straight from him as well, whereas she had your nose and your chin and seemingly your hair, the perfect tiny combination of both of you guys' genes.
Daisy tilts her head to the side and slabbers a little, adorable loud giggles escaping her mouth, "dadda eeppyy", she gabbles, trying to stand on her tippy toes in Jisung's lap, whose hands hover over her small frame, catching her whenever she wobbles unsteadily, "dada's sleepy? Yeah, I am sleepy. Is Daisy sleepy too? Shall we go night night?", he says sweetly, smiling proudly, elated at just how bright and smart and cute his daughter is, "ya", she says in her tiny voice, trying to nod lightly, mimicking a small yawn after.
"Okay, night night we go then. Let's say bye bye to omma and sissy first! Say night night mommy, night night sissy!", Jisung instructs tenderly, brushing her hair with his fingers and then gently guiding her to you so she can crawl over and cup your cheeks in her little hands:" nah nah mam-mah", she babbles, her aim a little off when she tries to kiss your cheek and ends up slobbering all over your face.
Which you can't help but laugh endeared at: "good night sweetie, I love you, sissy loves you too!", you say softly, your hands cradling your round bump. A fond smile and soft gaze into his eyes, Jisung pecks your lips once, lingering there just for a second, a promise for more at a later time.
"Let's say bye bye to sissy too, where is sissy?", he adds then, gently encouraging Daisy to use her little pointer finger to poke at your chest, just slightly above your heart, "aw sissy is mommy's heart, but she's also in mommy's belly!", he prods her on gently, until she pokes your belly too, smiling excitedly, "good girl! There's sissy! say goodnight sissy, I love you! like this, here, watch dada", he explains patiently, bending down to kiss your belly once, and then twice, and then thrice.
Soon enough Daisy copies him and you find yourself overwhelmed with a flurry of slobbery kisses all over your tummy and your chest, the echo of your husband and daughter's giggling and smacking their lips on your skin making your tear up with both joy and the prickling feeling of having to go toilet with how much they're ticking you.
"Night night Nari, we love you", Jisung whispers, his lips pretty much still attached to you, an arm firmly wrapped around his toddler and the other cradling your belly, honey dripping from his words and his eyes.
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moremousewrites · 3 days
Text
Alone With You
Pairing: Rolanxf!Reader
Summary: Rolan has been taking out his anger on you ever since you've arrived at the Last Light Inn. You finally get fed up and snap at him, which leads you feeling bit guilty. You try to make it up to him and let him take out his anger on you yet again
Tags: smut, PiV sex, degradation, hate sex, light angst, tail sucking, face fucking, creampie
Of all the people you could have found in the depths of the shadow cursed lands, why did it have to be Rolan. You groaned as you watched him fire off magic missles, clearly overwhelmed by the wraiths that were clawing at him. 
“Why couldn't he just stay at the Inn?” You grumbled to yourself, rubbing your hand down your face. You were in no mood to be dealing with his egotistical bullshit. You told him you would save his siblings. 
You ran down the hill, your party in tow. The look of despair on Rolan's face was hard to miss. Shadowheart made quick work of two of the wraiths and you finished the others with a few focused attacks. The fight was over in moments and Rolan approached you, fuming.
“Gods damn it all. I can do nothing right- not a damn thing!” He yelled to himself, though his ire was pointed at you. It had been all night. Ever since you stepped foot in the Last Light Inn, he'd been taking out his rage on you. You knew it was misdirected, he was scared and insecure. But your patience was running very thin.
“You shouldn't be here, Rolan” you said through gritted teeth. The tiefling had every right to be upset, but he was really grating on your nerves tonight.
“Yes, I should,” he challenged. “I came here to save Cal and Lia. Instead, I found myself in need of rescue. From you… of all bloody people” he scowled at you, referring to you as if you were the scum of the realm.
You gripped the lantern so hard you thought it might splinter. “Unbelievable. I have been nothing but nice to you, you self absorbed prick. You wanna do something for your siblings? Stop trying to get yourself killed for your ego, sober up, and pull yourself together” you chastised him, fed up with his attitude. 
Rolan looked as though he had more to say, but held his tongue and walked back in the direction to the Inn. You figured it was for the best. If he said one more thing you thought you might smack that repugnant look off his face. 
You watched him conjure a transportation spell back to the Inn. He stomped his way into the bar and the portal closed behind him. Rude he didn't offer to transport you as well but at least he was gone.
“Gods, he's a piece of work” you said, rubbing your temples from the stressful encounter. 
Shadowheart raised a brow at you. “Is that what you think of him?” She asked, in a curious manner.
You eyed her, suspiciously. “I think he's probably very scared about his siblings being captured and he's blaming me because that's something he can control right now,” you explained, not very comfortable with her tone. “I also don't care to be his stress relief. He can deal with it like a big boy or deal with it alone. It's not my problem” you were firm in your resolve. Whatever she was implying, you weren't taking the bait.
“If you're sure” Shadowheart shrugged and walked on. Of course you were sure, you just explained it to her. 
You walked the rest of the way in silence, too irritated to say anything productive. You noticed the bar at the Inn was empty. Maybe what you said to Rolan finally got through to him.
A small part of you felt bad for chewing him out and you felt you should apologize before he took off again. You asked Jaheira if she'd seen him and she shrugged. She mentioned he might have gone to a spare room but she wasn't sure. You thanked her and made your way around the Inn. After looking in some of the guest rooms  you started to think he'd gone off again. You checked the Inn more frantically, scouring every room until you found one last door. 
For some reason, you felt the urge to listen through the door. You pressed your ear against the wood and tried to silence the loud beat of your heart in your ears.
At first, you heard nothing. Then, after a few moments, you heard his voice. It was strangled, and low. Unlike how you'd heard him speak before. Almost as if it were a purr. You were so relieved to hear his voice you didn't even process what you were listening to. You immediately knocked on the door.
“Zurgan- leave me alone!” you heard him answer from the other side of the door. His voice was pitchy, like he was straining from something. 
You rolled your eyes. “Rolan, it's me, we need to talk” you placed your hand on the door handle, clicking it open.
“No! No- don't!” opening the door, you were at a loss for words. The wizard apprentice was sprawled out on the bed, shirt removed, fisting his cock with fervor. You shut the door behind you. “Gods damn it, why did it have to be you? Why is it always you?” He let go of himself, dropping his hand on the bed and giving you a stare that could cut you into pieces. 
“I'm sorry, I-” you started to apologize. 
“No, enough of your sorries! You have no respect for my life, for my privacy,  or anyone's for that matter. You just go around involving yourself wherever you think it makes you important and don't stick around to see it through” he ranted at you. You couldn't tear your eyes away from his cock. It was still fully erect. 
“I'm sorry” you walked over to him, eyes taking him in. His normally upkept hair was completely disheveled and framed his face which was glistening with sweat. He'd been fucking his hand furiously. The image it brought to your mind filled you with a heat deep inside you. 
He guffawed at you, furious. “Did you not hear a word I said? Are you dull?” he watched in awe as you sank to your knees at the side of his bed, eyes looking at him in expectation. 
Rolan sat up to face you, feet on either side of you, his cock poking at his navel. “You think I want to fuck you? After everything you've done to me?” He fisted your hair and tilted back your head. You noticed his tail was twitching excitedly. 
His eyes followed yours to his tail and he groaned. He stood, grasping your jaw so it hung open. “I'd tell you to breathe but I don't care,” he said before thrusting into your open mouth. 
Even with his big talk, he showed restraint. His hips only rutting shallow thrusts and he was clearly focused on slowing his pace. You gripped the backs of his thighs, pulling him closer. 
“You brat” he huffed, thrusting harder. A mischievous thought crossed your mind and you narrowed your eyes to look up at him. You were going to be a brat, alright. Your hand moved upwards, carefully locating the base of his tail, and you grasped it lightly.
Rolan's shocked sputtering was a satisfying result of your plotting. He pulled you off of him in a quick motion and grabbed your wrist. “What is wrong with you?!” He sounded exasperated.
“Oh you didn't like that? It kind of felt like you did when your cock was twitching in my throat” you grinned at him.
Rolan pulled you onto the bed, grunting as he did. He was deceptively strong for a wizard. You were bent forward, your ass lifted for him as your face pressed into the mattress. “Will you just shut up already?” he pulled your pants down your thighs and you felt his tail wrap around your naked thigh, firmly. 
You felt the head of his rigid cock press against your hole. You could tell you were soaked as he pressed the tip against you. Letting out a loud whine, Rolan snapped his hips, driving himself into you. “I said shut up!” He set a bruising pace, forcing you down into the mattress with his hips while a hand pressed your shoulder down. 
You could feel his infernal ridges dragging against the walls of your cunt, pulling out to slam back into you as you moaned out his name.
“The brave adventurer moaning my name like a whore. What would your friends think if they knew you were taking a foulbloods cock like a dirty slut? Fucking pathetic” he pounded into you harder, his tail flexing against your leg. 
Your back arched deeper and you rocked your hips to his thrusts. The sound of skin slapping against skin was echoing against the walls of the room, only to be quieted by your moans. 
You looked back to your thigh to see the tip of his tail was twitching frantically. He was restraining it. You reached back and stroked the tip with your thumb, eliciting a strangled moan from the tiefling. Cautiously, he unfurled it and let you take it in your grasp. You lightly ran your fingers on the edges of his tail, testing the sensitivity while he tried to compose himself. It was clear by his sporadic pace and breathy moans that his tail was incredibly sensitive. As an experiment, you ran the flat of your tongue along the tip of his tail. Rolan nearly collapsed on you.
“W-wait” he stuttered, composure lost. He'd stopped moving entirely, disappointing you.
“What's wrong?” You asked, innocently. You pressed a kiss to his tail and felt him shudder around you.
“It's too much, really. I won't last” he breathed out. 
You licked again, lighter this time, then gave a dark grin. “I don't care,” you said before stuffing the tip in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tail and humming. 
Rolan cursed at you and lifted his leg onto the bed to fuck into you mercilessly. The unforgiving pace and intense angle was overwhelming. You were fastly approaching your climax along with him. Rolan felt as your cunt clenched around him and in an effort to bring you to completion, he brought his fingers to your clit to finish you off, making you squeal around his tail.
The combined pleasures of your orgasm and your mouth pushed him over the edge, causing him to come deep inside of you. In his exhaustion, he grabbed you and collapsed on his side, still buried in your aching cunt.
For a while, you didn't say anything. His tail had slipped out of your mouth and his spend was seeping out of you while his cock softened. But you laid still in his arms while the afterglow diminished. 
From behind you, you heard a faint sound. He was saying something so quiet you weren't sure you were supposed to hear it.
“What?” You asked, quietly. 
“I said I'm sorry” he replied. You nodded, not wanting to press on the issue. 
“It's okay. Do you want me to stay?” You asked, unsure of what he needed. 
Rolan didn't respond for a moment, ashamed to say yes. Ashamed to say he needed you again. That you really weren't the bane of his existence and that he was scared of being alone. Instead, he held you closer.
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yandere-sins · 2 days
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IM CRYING AT THE THOUGHT OF KÖNIG NOT LETTING DARLING COOK
No because imagine him approving of your combat skills (if you suck then you wouldn't be a KorTac operator in the first place) and enjoying how well you work with him on the battlefield but he draws the line if you were to get injured from cooking 😭😭😭
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Darling, KorTac, and TF141 when König refuses to let darling cook but allows her to commit war crimes:
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Darling explaining (begging) to König on why he should let her bond with the others like a normal soldier and cook for herself because she's not a child.
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König towards anyone who tried getting too close to HIS platonic darling (they made a small talk).
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You're sooo right about Ghost being rougher yet gives his darling more freedom aka the bare minimum. The problem with platonic yandere König is that he's infantilizing! Even if he's also friends with Horangi, you and Horangi are treated very differently. Horangi and KorTac pities you, truly.
I thought of something, since the rest of TF141 doesn't know the whole thing about you and König, how would you think they'll react towards König's treatment towards his darling? The only ones who came to my mind are Price and Ghost. Price who raises an eyebrow because he's not even like that with his men, and Ghost calling König out on his treatment that makes you uncomfortable.
König is just too afraid something might happen, he totally pulls darling from any missions if he can, but alas, they are more than capable. It also starts out as kind of nice for the darling, I mean, it's great if someone takes care of you for a while, right? But at some point they'll be pretty annoyed for even needing a chaperone to go to the toilet. But of course it's also hard to send König away. He only means well after all... Darling will need to put their foot down even if it hurts (':
The 141 probably sees it as a weird co-dependant situation at first. You're like a service pet even though they never saw the "real" and vulnerable König, so it makes even less sense. However, things do begin to ring alarm bells when they notice you getting frustrated about things like being sent away whenever you want to make food for yourself and König taking over. Or when you don't show up to training. Ghost and Soap are more on the personal front, catching up to you and bumping into your shoulder, asking if you're okay. Price is more of a business front where he orders you to meet him, however, he's still kind when he asks if you need help or if there is something uncanny going on he should know about. They're not really in a position to interfer with KorTac employees, but if you tell them you need a break, they can at least try to get the big guy off your back ever so often. You'll have to do the reporting yourself if you have enough but they can give you the pen and paper or telephone if it's something you'd rather not do in König's presence. But then again, do you want to?
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heavenlyraindrops · 12 hours
Text
𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
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Fandom: Honkai Star Rail Blade x Reader Warnings: Profanity, Sexual Content, p in v, cockwarming (? Idk not really), Blade’s name is Ren, afab!reader Word count: 1.6k
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
You made potions for living. Well, more like- elixirs, soothing, calming ones, but most of your clientele had begun to call them “potions” to the point of you giving up on trying to correct them. Your clientele, being the Stellaron Hunters.
Kafka had sought you out, after hearing your reputation for creating some of the most effective elixirs there was, and after that she’d begun ordering from you almost weekly. You weren’t surprised- they were Stellaron Hunters, after all. You wondered how they wouldn’t burst without some form of relaxation. 
Blade would come up once a week to pick up some elixirs. You’d talk, maybe, and over the time you had grown close from those small conversations, which grew in length and depth over time too. 
“How’s Kafka?” 
“She’s fine,” came the short reply.
Closer.
“How was your mission?”
“Fine.” His eyes were more tired than hard today. You handed him the bottle. 
“Good luck on your next one.”
His eyes roamed your face. “…Thanks.”
Closer.
“So. Blade.”
He looked up, confused by your definitive, obscure sentence. 
“Any other name? A real name.”
His eyes locked onto yours, burning, and you wondered if it was a good idea to ask him in the first place. “You can use Ren,” he said cautiously. “If you must.”
“Ren,” you murmured, testing it out on your tongue. You smiled at him. “I’ll see you around.”
He hummed, already turning to leave, face tilted away from you. 
Closer.
“How’s business?” He was the one initiating the conversation this time. It surprised you, pleasantly. 
“It’s good. Sold more than usual. Maybe I’ll be able to move out of this tiny ass apartment.”
His finger ghosted across the ring of the bottle you had just handed him. “That’s good.” His eyes flicked up to meet yours. “If you move, you’ll tell me? I mean-“ his voice abruptly stopped as he hastily corrected himself. “You’ll tell us?”
You smiled, faintly. “Yes, Blade, I’ll tell you.”
The colour that rose to his cheeks was barely visible as he turned away to leave.
Close enough. 
Frankly, you just wanted to get your back blown by him, but you weren’t exactly going to admit it, were you?
You definitely weren’t going to admit it now, as he stood in your doorway, both your hands outstretched- yours to give, his to receive. 
“You’re bleeding,” you uttered, hand freezing over the bottle. He stiffened, more than he was already, which was amazing in its own right. “Blade, come inside.”
You didn’t want to ask too many questions. 
You saw his jaw lock into place as he stepped back. “I don’t need-“
“Ren, come inside. Let me take care of you.” The words sounded awfully wrong on your tongue, and you bit your lip to shut yourself up. His eyes flew to the action. What the hell were you saying? It sounded weird. Stop it. Stop. 
A few seconds ticked by painfully.
He shifted, and stepped inside, into the doorway. You looked up in surprise. His eyes flicked up and down your body, and you stiffened under the intensity of his gaze, all the heat in your body pooling in one specific place.
“Well,” you said, slightly breathless. “Let me just… get some stuff.”
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“Ren, what is the meaning of this?”
His arm wasn’t bleeding. There was a small scar where the cut was meant to be, a scar to match the rest of the ones littering his exposed upper half, shirt and other articles of clothing lying on the sofa next to him. 
He looked up at you, adam’s apple moving as he gulped, and it struck you that he looked nervous. His eyes flicked away, face returning to its usual stoic look. 
“You’re not bleeding,” you pointed out flatly. 
“No, I’m not,” he muttered. Without thinking, you took his chin in your hand, tilting his head up to look at you. A strand of hair fell in front of his face, lit up by the pale moonlight seeping in through your blinds into the otherwise dim room. You quickly released him, clenching your fists. Can this evening seriously get any more embarrassing for me? Your heart pounded against your ribcage. 
“Could have- Could have told me before I dragged you in here,” you chuckled nervously, heat burning on your face. Your anxious smile faded a little. “Why didn’t you?” 
He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Instead, his leg, pressed against yours as you stood over him, nudging you subtly, urging you to move closer. You did. “I can’t say.” His voice was dangerously low, his undertone lined with a meaning you just barely picked up on, and a wave of something you couldn’t describe overtook you, burning hot.  
“Then show me.”
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A moan escaped your lips as you forced yourself to not dig your nails into Blade’s shoulder with another slow, lazy thrust of his hips, all the pleasure shooting to your core and eliciting another whimper from you, one that made him smirk against your neck. The action burned sweet against your skin. 
“Ren,” you gasped breathlessly, and his fingers trailed up your arm again, and he pulled away from you. You were hyper aware of him buried inside you, every throb and twitch felt all across your body. “Shouldn’t we- the eli-“
He threw a dismissively glance at the bottle of elixir lying on the table behind you. “Forget it,” he muttered, crashing his lips onto yours again. And they tasted so good to you that you did forget it. “Focus on me.”
He gave another roll of his hips, his cock languidly stroking your walls and just barely hitting that sweet spot inside of you- not enough to satisfy you yet enough to drive you crazy. You rolled your hips, desperate for something more, and his teeth clamped down on your lips hard. You whimpered again, feeling tears of frustration gather at the corners of your eyes. 
“Move,” you pleaded breathlessly, hands tangling through his long, soft hair and giving a gentle tug as you whimpered.
“Desperate, hmm?” Blade hummed, trailing his fingers down the side of your neck, where he had left a couple of bruises and bites. You nodded wordlessly, hands curling into fists and bunching up the fabric of whatever clothing you’d let remain on him, and a small huff of amusement escaped his lips. 
“Maybe, if you beg for it…” he trailed off, his scarred hand slipping down your waist without warning, finger teasing your clit. Your entire body tensed up even more on the unexpected contact. Your walls twitched, gushing. 
“Ren, please,” you mumbled. He leaned in, breath ghosting over the shell of your ear. 
“Can’t hear you,” he hummed.
You sucked in a sudden, shuddering breath as his fingers teased your entrance, already wrapped snugly around his girth. “I’m begging you, please, fu-“
His lips captured yours again, hand pulling at your hair, tongue slipping behind your teeth. You bucked your hips again, almost riding him with the way you were moving, and he groaned into the kiss, tilting his head to deepen it. 
“Stop that,” he hissed against your lips, reffering to your desperate movements. You didn’t, instead dipping your head into the crook of his neck, leaving a feverish trail of kisses down his skin, from his jaw to his collarbone, hands exploring his toned torso. His hand wrapped around the back of your neck, taking in a fistful of hair and yanking you away. You whined at the action. “So needy.”
“Only for you,” you breathed, staring at him through half-lidded eyes, and you swore you could have felt him twitch inside you.
His hands fell to your hips, grabbing you and pushing you back into the sofa. You yelped, feeling the air rush out from behind you as your back collided with the cushions.
A small curse fell from his lips as he entered, and you whimpered, stretching out to take in his whole cock, back arching at the pleasure. His hand snaked its way up, wrapping itself around your neck, pushing you deeper into the couch as his hips moved, thrusting, with a steady pace. 
“Fuck,” you moaned, raking your nails down his back, a lock of his hair falling onto your arm and shoulder. You suppressed another whimper as his length hit a certain spot inside you, throwing your head back, seeing stars. You might have said his name, but you couldn’t focus on anything except the white-hot pleasure pulsing through you. 
His lips dropped to your neck again, the heat from his own body burning on your skin as they traced a path down your jaw to your neck, interrupted by a few breathless grunts. 
“Ren,” you whimpered again, as his hips snapped against yours, sending another shockwave throughout your body. “I think I’m gonna-“
“Go ahead,” he groaned, breath hot on the shell of your ear. 
You did.
Nothing would have prepared you for the orgasm’s intensity, tearing through your body. Your limbs went weak almost immediately as you whispered his name, almost like a mantra. He came too, finishing all over your stomach. You pulled him down towards you, pressing your lips against his, capturing each other’s breath. He sank into the kiss, both your bodies still trembling. 
“Tissues are on the-“ you began, as he buried his head in the crook of your shoulder, arms wrapping around you. He shook his head, silencing you. You fell quiet, silence filling the room. 
“Just stay like this for a while,” he mumbled, voice muffled by your skin. You sighed, squirming and shifting around to make yourself comfortable before supressing a smile. 
“Fine.” 
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A/N: i lowkey hate this but I feel like if I don’t post it it’s a waste cause I spent so long on it like bruh I was literally just horny wtf I hope this is acc good and I’m just deluded
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