#& i did this is 2 of them were just [sips tea]

[fceriestcrdst]

when your f/os bully you into finally returning to xe/he pronouns bc they know they make you happy. but also when your f/os bully you into accepting the name kylo--the very name you've thought abt on & off for months bc crow was mostly a placeholder to cut ties to bad things----

[kaciidubs]

Walking in on Roommate! Chan | Pt. 2

❣ Summary: A lot can change in a month, but was it truly a change, or simply a realization? ❣  ❣ Word Count: 7.41k ❣ Warnings: Non!Idol AU, Roommate! Chris, fluff, smut, slice of life, slight humor, friends to lovers, slight! dom Chris, Dom/Sub dynamics, smut with feelings, sir/daddy kink ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Chan is referred to as Chris, Channie, Baby, Sir, and Daddy, Reader is referred to as Baby, Good/Pretty Girl, and Princess, lightly edited ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist ❣ Pt. 1

It had been a month since the incident, and though you thought things had gone unchanged between you and Chris, your reality couldn't have been more wrong.

You seemed to linger more on every interaction with him, your brain working double time to process things he'd say or do as of they had a deeper meaning behind them - which they didn't.

He always left you little notes whenever he'd go out with Changbin for an early gym session, so why were you smiling at the hastily written messages and cutely drawn dragon-worm signature?

He always texted you on your break at work to remind you of any plans he made, so why did your heart flutter every time his contact popped up?

He always made sure your favorite snacks were in the pantry, and if you were running out he'd stock them up before you had the chance to add them on your grocery list, so why did you swoon every time your favorite bag of chips was sat on the kitchen counter?

There was no way your world flipped itself upside down over one incident, absolutely no way...

Unless.

"I'm screwed." You groaned woefully, dropping your head to the table in front of you.

Jeongin laughed, taking a piece of meat from your plate, "I told you to stop laughing at that guy's terrible jokes, now look at you!"

"What?"

"Jongsoo, the coworker you kept saying was trying to flirt with you but couldn't catch a hint?" Felix mused, tilting his head slightly, "Isn't that what we're here to talk about? 'Level three red alert', and all?"

"What? No, no," sitting up, you leveled him with a soft stare, "if this was about him, I would've picked a bar - he doesn't deserve the glory of being talked about over barbecue."

"Okay, so why are we here?" Minho huffed as he flipped a strip of beef on the tabletop grill, "Actually, better question, why am I here? Last I checked I never signed up to this whole 'red alert' code talk."

"Hyung, the last time we shared tea that you didn't know about, you ignored me and Felix for a week for 'leaving you out'." Jeongin spoke pointedly, recalling the way he practically cursed them out for 'disrespecting your elders'.

The former groaned, rolling his eyes, "Why didn't you just say you needed to shit talk someone?! Why are we speaking in code?"

"Because one of our friends has a big mouth, the other one forgets a secret is a secret the second you finish talking to him, another one likes sharing gossip online through subs and secret callout posts, one couldn't even buy a fuck to give about any gossip, and the final one... he's not allowed, he knows too much as it is already." You listed simply before taking a sip of your drink, "The group we have right now is formed out of the strongest tea holders, understand?"

"Anyways," Felix snapped you back into business, "what's happening? Why are you screwed?"

Steeling your nerves, you mentally prepared yourself for the word that were about to come out of your mouth.

"I might have a crush on someone..."

"I knew it." Minho announced smugly, taking another piece of perfectly cooked beef from the grill top.

"What?! There's no way you knew anything about this, Hyung!" Jeongin argued, sitting up in his seat next to you, "You don't even like people! How are you suddenly an insider?"

"Look at her!" He pointed the tongs in your direction, to which you tilted your head in confusion, "The past few days she's been watching her phone like a hawk whenever we all go out, she's been way too happy, and she spaces out more than usual-"

"Okay, that part could just be because of Lix's pot brownies!"

"Hey, hey, hey - ex-nay on the pot brownies-ay, okay? The whole world doesn't need to know - I only do it cause people ask me to!" The blond gritted out, pointing his fork in the direction of the youngest as a threat.

"Yeah, sure, next you're gonna say you only model for Hyunjin because he 'asks you to'."

"You little-"

"Hey!" The eldest of the boys snapped the tongs three times, effectively quieting them, "Shut up! We're here to get information, not talk about Felix's entrepreneur business, got it?" He pointed the utensil toward you yet again, "Talk. Now."

"Well- Uh... I don't know, it's not like I wanted it to happen, I was completely fine as friends with this person but then..." Shrugging your shoulders, you felt the events of the past month play back in your head, "I guess things just changed one day? Like, suddenly I could see them in this new light and now every time he does something so stupidly normal I find myself wanting to kiss him until I can't breathe."

"Ugh, that's both disgusting and cute - why did we have to talk about this over barbecue?" Jeongin whined before stuffing his face with a lettuce wrap. "Whosh th' lucky guy?"

"You really think I'm gonna reveal-"

"I swear to god, please don't say it's your coworker," Felix pouted, looking at you with pleading eyes, "you can do so much better than him - you don't have to do the charity work, I promise you."

"Lee Felix-"

"I know your heart's in the right place, but you don't have to cater to him, please."

"Would you please-"

"40 bucks says it's Chan." Minho hummed through a bite of his bulgogi.

The youngest nearly choked on his drink, swallowing a hefty gulp before coughing, "That's such a bad take! Chan Hyung? The man with negative rizz? The man who stays up long enough to say good night and good morning?"

"You say that like it's impossible!" The freckled blond argued, "It happens all the time in sitcoms!"

"Lix, please, I'd rather you not compare my life to a sitcom, I have enough happening for two seasons and a reunion episode as it is." You groaned, dropping your head in your hands with a sigh, "Can we just move on from the confession and talk about the movie night? I don't think my brain can handle the topic of my non-existent love life much longer."

Through a silent agreement, Minho ordered another round of food and the four of you continued onto much lighter - yet somehow more argument filled, conversation.

The coveted movie night was a monthly event that originally started with you and your friends, using the time Chris would be working late to have a movie marathon loaded with snacks, drinks, and cozy pajamas. It wasn't until Changbin caught word of the activity that the small gathering turned into a merged group affair; it was even enough to convince Chris to take time off to join in on the fun.

In the whirlwind of work and the existential crisis of realizing your crush, you'd completely forgotten that the event would be taking place tonight.

Funny, how fast time flies when your world is in shambles.

"Alright, that's all the blankets and pillows from the closet." Chris huffed, stepping back with his hands on his hips as he admired his handiwork; the large couch draped with various blankets and piled high with pillows that were sure to be rearranged in less than a minute of everyone's arrival.

You snuck a glance from your spot in the kitchen, a soft smile growing from his look of personal accomplishment. "Looks great, hopefully we won't have Han and Hyunjin fighting over who gets what pillow again."

He snorted out a laugh, heading over to you, "You think so? Those two could fight over who gets the last chip with an unopened bag right next to them - it's happened before!" Leaning his hip against the island, his eyes glanced over the various snacks covering the surface, "D'you need me to help with anything?"

"Um- Yeah, actually, can you get me the bowls from the cabinet? We can open the chips now, it's almost time for everyone to show up." You turned to look at the stove's clock; 7:33 PM, a little less than half an hour until your shared apartment would be filled with a sea of people.

Chris hummed, pushing himself away from the countertop, and you found your eyes drawn to his frame; a black tank top - sleeveless by his own doing - showing off the subtle build of his biceps, and a matching pair of black shorts you'd seen time and time again.

It was his staple look, simple, perfectly cozy for the impending activities, yet somehow you still felt your heartbeat racing the longer you stared.

Yes, you knew he was attractive, your friends gawked about it for weeks since you first moved in with him, but when was he this attractive?

"The big bowls, yeah?"

Snapping yourself out of your stupor, you nodded, even with his back still turned to you. "Mhm, those are perfect!"

You were in, deep.

You turned your attention back to preparing the chips, opening a bag and sneaking one of the plain potato chips when you felt a hand at the small of your back - the stack of bowls sliding onto the counter a second later.

"Here you go."

This was normal, it was normal for him and his affinity for physical touch, but you still felt a rush of electricity shoot up your spine from his touch - your body freezing as you registered just how close he was behind you.

"Ah- Thanks, Channie!"

Normal. So very, very normal.

"You need anything else?"

Lifting your gaze from the snacks in front of you, your eyes immediately found his; warm and kind, a shade of brown you caught yourself daydreaming of time and time again - distracting enough for you not to realize the mere inches between your faces.

He smelled like mahogany and lavender, a faint musk of the cologne he always wore tinted with your laundry detergent he claimed made his clothes feel softer.

"I, um..." His stare was hypnotizing, sending every productive thought in your brain out the window, "I-"

The sound of the doorbell snapped you out of your reverie, but you could've sworn you saw a hint of sadness in his eyes as he stepped back.

"That might be Han, he said he'd be coming a bit earlier."

"Yeah, no, that's fine - can you finish opening these when you get back? I'm gonna go get changed."

Chris hummed out a short "Yeah" before heading toward the front door, leaving you to collect yourself amongst the colorful serving bowls.

This was going to be a long night.

It wasn't long before everyone showed up; comfort clothes on and ready for the night's movie queue and rounds of snacks.

The seating arrangements remained in their usual layout with the mix of your friends between the couch or the floor, while you somehow always found yourself tucked between Chris and and the corner of the couch - arguably, the best part of any couch in your opinion.

This time, however, the arrangement was met with knowing side eye glances from your half of the friend group, a few of your girls sharing barely hidden smirks and whispers.

Before you could throw a pillow as a warning sign, a blanket of polyester blocked your vision and filled your nose with an all too familiar scent.

"Here," Chris hummed softly, rounding the edge of the couch to take his place next to you, "in case you get cold."

"Aw, you thought of me?" You teased, nudging his shoulder with yours as you unfolded his blanket and draped it across your legs.

"I always think of you."

His words made you freeze, your heart stuck in a limbo of floating to your throat or falling to the pit of your stomach while he carried on with the rest of the group.

I always think of you.

Always.

The revelation had the gears in your head working double time, the events of the past month playing like a movie in your mind - akin to the one currently starting on the TV in front of you.

He always thought of you, his caring nature shown in so many ways besides the ones you grew used to while living under the same roof; if you were running late coming home, you'd always have a text making sure you were safe - or, when you had important dates in your schedule, he'd be the one to remind you when they were a few days away.

Chris always did little things to show that you were on his mind, he always made it clear that you were important to him, that he cared about you as much as he did his friends.

But maybe... Maybe there was more behind it.

Your fingers glided along the blanket covering your lap, the fabric soft and welcoming like the hug of a close friend.

I always think of you.

It was like the three movies passed in the span of seconds, some of your shared friends tapping out after the second film, while the stragglers and self proclaimed cleanup crew stuck around to take in a cheesy family comedy of a man taking his family on a wild vacation.

"Min, you don't have to do that, you know," you chastized the black haired man as he washed the empty chip bowls, "I would've gotten to it in the morning!"

He scoffed out a chuckle, throwing you a knowing side eye, "Yeah, says the person who told me how much she hates the dishes with a passion stronger than Han's coffee addiction."

Deciding to protect your pride - knowing full and well he was completely correct - you wandered back into the living room where Felix and Jisung were folding one of the blankets, while Jeongin rearranged the pillows and Changbin gathered any missed trash lying around.

Felix shot you a sleepy smile, nodding his head toward the stack of folded blankets, "D'you want us to put these back in the closet?"

"No, you guys have done more than enough, seriously! I'll put them away, don't worry."

"What about this one?" Jisung held up the navy blanket you were using, Chris' navy blanket. "Want it folded? Are you still using it?"

"It's actually Chris's, I'll give it back to him."

Said man slipped away to his bedroom in the middle of the third movie, mentioning something about double checking some files for work before wishing you all a good night.

Humming in acceptance, the remaining boys gathered their belongings and headed toward the door, giving each of them a hug and making them swear to text when they each made it home safely.

Minho gave you a soft smile, though a certain glint in his eyes raised warning sign in your head, "Have a good night." He hummed with an air of mischief, slipping through the door before you had even a second to question him.

Frowning at the wood, you clicked the lock into place before gathering everything you needed to close off the living room for the night; tucking the navy blanket under your arm while balancing the other blankets in your hand. You stuffed them back into their bin in the hallway closet with ease, sliding the door shut and making your way toward your last stop of the night.

The sound of your knuckles against the door echoed through the empty hall, "Channie, you up?"

"Yeah, you can come in!"

Turning the knob, you were bathed in a soft purple light from his LED's, walking into the cozy atmosphere to see him laying on his bed with his phone in hand, "Hi."

He smiled, dropping his phone to the side as he sat up, "Hey, you - is everyone gone?"

"Yep, they helped clean up as usual, I'm just here to return this," you held up the blanket, stopping just short of the side of his bed, "thanks for letting me borrow it."

"You know, you can keep using it if you want, it's not like I won't know where it is."

Rolling your eyes, you held it out to him, "Chris, you and I both know I don't need anymore blankets in my room."

"What if you get cold?" He grinned, challenging you with glittering eyes.

"Then I'll use one of my blankets!" You laughed at his cheekiness, tossing the blanket in his direction just for him to catch it before it covered his face.

The room filled with your combined giggles, warmth settling over you as you watched him unceremoniously ball the blanket up and toss it toward his computer chair.

Just as you were about to announce your leave, your mind seemed to have a mission of its own the minute you opened your mouth.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course, always - what's up?"

Always - god, was he trying to drive you crazy on purpose?

You needed clarity, something to confirm that you were seeing things that weren't truly there - making a purpose out of words that were simply meant from one roommate to another, one best friend to another.

"So... About what you said in the living room, when you said you always think of me..." You dropped your gaze from his, your fingers suddenly becoming the most interesting thing to you, "Did... Did you mean it?"

"Of course I meant it, you're one of my best friends - I think about you all the time!" The smile he gave you was genuine, warm, filled with so much truth that it made your heart skip a beat.

Steeling your nerves, you looked up at him with a firm stare, "All the time?"

"Yes...? I mean, I think about other people and things too, but for the most part you've always been there... Why are you asking-"

"Did you think about me last month?"

His smile faltered, eyebrows furrowing as he searched your face for a hint of an answer. "What are you talking about?"

"Chris, did you think about me last month - when I walked into your room and I saw you-" Taking a sharp breath, you calming yourself before looking at him with pleading eyes, "Did you think of me?"

The silence was thick, the sound of your own heart filling your ears - you were certain it would beat right out of your chest and run out of the room to save you from this conversation.

"Would..." He cleared his throat, dropping his head as he picked at the sheets underneath him, "Would it be weird if I said yes?"

Your stomach flipped, your knees threatening to buckle and send you straight to the floor but you stood strong. "Would it be weird if I said I wanted you to?"

His head snapped back up and he stared at you with a look crossed between shock and awe, "Are you serious?"

"Honestly, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you." The confession took you by storm, though you couldn't find it in yourself to stop talking, "And it's not just from that night - well, some of it is, but since then it's like... enhanced? Like, every little thing you do just lingers and sometimes I think I'm just going crazy because it's not like you've done anything new - it's just you, yet my heart feels like it'll explode after every text you send, or whenever we're in the same room, and I-"

The sound of your name from his lips stopped your panicked ramble, though the look he gave you did little to calm your racing heart.

"Come here."

Offering his hand, you cautiously accepted it and let him guide you onto his bed, straddling his lap at his instance while trying not to completely evaporate from the close proximity.

"Honestly, this isn't how I thought I'd end up confessing, but I guess there's a lot about us that isn't traditional," he chuckled to himself, his hands naturally finding their home on your hips, just below the waistband of your pajama shorts. "First, I want you to know that I think about you no matter what - you're always somewhere in my mind and at first I thought it was because you're my roommate, someone I care about just like everyone else in my life. But, recently things have been changing and I..." Taking a deep breath, his eyes found yours, a firm, yet comforting gaze holding you captive in those brown irises, "I have feelings for you- I like you, more than just a roommate or a best friend, and I didn't want to ruin things between us if you didn't feel the same w-"

You cut him off with your lips against his, swallowing the rest of his sentence with a small hum of delight - soft with a hint of cherry chapstick.

He melted almost immediately, tugging you closer as a hand slid up your back to keep you pressed against his body - almost as if he allowed anymore space between you, you'd somehow disappear into his dreams.

When you went to pull away, he followed like a desperate puppy and you had to fight the urge to laugh at him, placing your hand on his chest to keep him from coming any closer. "Just so you know, that kiss means I definitely feel the same way."

Chris huffed out a giggle, narrowing his eyes playfully, "No, really? I would've never guessed!"

"Well, I know for a fact you also feel the same way." The lilt in your voice was teasing, making a show of rolling your hips against the mass that was quickly making itself known between your legs.

Biting his lip, he leveled you with a firm gaze, daring, "Don't start something you can't finish, baby."

The pet name made your heart flutter, and you tilted your head up in defiance, "What makes you think I don't wanna finish it, hm?" Grinding your hips yet again, you were able to work out a low groan from those wonderfully kissable lips, "I can finish it, Channie, just show me how."

Before you knew it, he had you wrapped up in another mind melting kiss that had you letting out a shivering moan against his mouth as you tried matching his ferocity.

"You," he panted, nipping your bottom lip, "are gonna be the death of me, you little minx."

He kissed his way down your jaw and neck, sucking and nipping at the sensitive spots he miraculously had no trouble in finding, leaving you wondering how much he truly knew about you to discover this information.

However, all of your critical thinking skills flew out the window when he sucked at a spot just underneath your jaw, turning you into a whining mess that only craved him and him alone.

Tilting your head to the side to grant him more room, you simultaneously tugged at his shirt - almost offended that he decided tonight of all nights to wear one in the privacy of his own room.

"Off, Chris."

He pulled himself away from the paradise that was your skin, gazing at you with simmering eyes, "Say please?"

Pouting, you pulled at the offending cotton once more, "Chris-"

His hands immediately found your wrists, tugging them gently behind your back as he tilted his head, fixing you with a tsk of disapproval. "Use your manners, princess, you know how this goes."

Your body temperature spiked, flashes of him saying the same fated words as a tease just to get you to beg for him before he inevitably gave you what you wanted, playing back like a film reel.

You know how this goes.

Swallowing down the demand threatening to bubble up, you relaxed in his hold and softened your undoubtedly needy gaze, "Please, Chris? Can you take your shirt off, for me?"

The smirk that stretched his lips had your stomach doing flips, the mere glimpse of the cocky energy he had inside of him making your mouth water and your pussy flutter with need.

"That's my girl."

He let go of your wrists to hike the hem of his shirt into his hands, before tugging it up and off with the coveted crossed-arm maneuver that he never failed to use as his prized flirting trick - and, god, was it a good trick.

Despite having seen him shirtless countless times, seeing him shirtless up close had your brain melting.

"Remind me to thank Changbin for keeping you in check with his gym routine."

"As much as I appreciate the compliment, could we maybe not talk about our other friends while I have you in my lap?"

Barely holding back your laughter, you nodded and slipped your own pajama shirt off in one go as a peace offering, tossing it to the floor where his currently laid. "Yes, sir - won't happen again." When he went rigid underneath you, you arched an eyebrow, "Oh? We have a sir kink, do we?"

Before you could tease him any further, he surged forward and caught your lips in a feverish kiss, passion fueled and determined as his warm hands found the new, uncharted territory of your back.

"You're playing with fire, princess." His tone was firm, laced with warning as he nipped at your plump bottom lip, "You really think you can handle it?"

The tantalizing threat of a challenge had your heart skipping a beat; you'd seen him get into one of these moods before, asking an open ended question that he already know the answer to, and playing that game now held too many promising rewards in the end.

Preparing yourself for the next words coming out of your mouth, you gave him an innocent smile, "I know I can handle it, sir."

That was the straw that broke the camel's back, graciously earning you the split second of weightlessness before you were pinned on your back with every sense of yours surrounded by Chris; the feeling of his soft, cool sheets against your back, the smell of him ingrained into the cotton threading, and the heart stopping sight of him hovering above you bathed in that soft purple glow.

"Tell me you want this." His eyes locked onto your own, brown irises filled with caution and hope, "If you want me to stop, I'll stop, and we can pretend we never let it get this far, I promise."

"I want this- God, I need this, I need you, Chris - keep going, please."

With your consent given, his fingers danced up your thighs and over the cotton shorts you wore - a matching set to the shirt that was long forgotten - before dipping past the elastic waistband to drag them back down the expanse of your thighs.

They were unceremoniously tossed to the ground with the ever growing pile of clothes, and when he turned to give your panties the same, eventual treatment, his jaw nearly dislocated from the rate it dropped at; a bright blush turning his ears and neck red.

"Holy shit- I-I mean, fuck- Please... Please tell me you planned this"

You were now laid in his bed fully nude, which meant you weren't wearing panties for as long as the movie night went on, and that thought alone had his dick painfully straining against his own shorts.

Shaking your head, you timidly knocked your knees together, bristling at the exposure of cold air against your pussy, "I, um... I really wish I could say I planned it, but I didn't." Blinking up at the ceiling, a sheepish laugh shook your shoulders, "It's more comfortable sleeping without them, you know?"

Of course, you knew he knew from a few fated encounters with him early in the mornings, courtesy of wandering eyes and a not-so-small situation he tried keeping tucked away - it seemed that between the two of you, underwear was a foreign concept in the privacy of your shared apartment.

Chris groaned, a low, aching sound that begged for mercy to be taken on him, "You're absolutely going to be the death of me, there's no way you're real right now - this has to be a dream." Resting his hands on your knees, he silently waited for your hum of permission before pulling them apart, following the angle of your thighs down to catch his first glimpse of your pussy. "Fuck, if this is a dream, please don't wake me up."

"Chris."

Your insistent whine didn't fall on deaf ears as he wasted no time in scooting down his bed and ducking his head between your legs; plump lips peppering wet kisses along your soft skin, from the inside of your knee down to the highest point of your inner thigh, before skipping entirely over your cunt to repeat the process to your other leg.

Each caress of his lips sent chills up your spine, sparks of electricity shooting through your nerves and powering the growing desire within the pit of your stomach. Thankfully, you wouldn't have to suffer much longer as his second trip down ended with the warm sensation of his tongue swiping through your lower lips with a careful curiosity.

A sound crossed between a sigh and a moan floated through him before his hands squeezed the flesh of your thighs and he all but dove his head toward your pussy; lapping messily at the arousal dripping from you while aiming to explore your fluttering walls.

"Oh, shit-" Hands flying to his hair, you gripped at the roots as shock tinted pleasure shot through you, "Oh my god, Chris- Oh, god!"

The only sounds coming from him were muffled moans and lewd slurps, the only instances of his mouth leaving your pussy being him shifting his head up to focus his devilish tongue along your clit, and him pulling away for mere seconds of air before getting back to work.

He was eating you out like a man starved, and all you could do was lay there and take it with wanton moans and whines of his name.

"Chris, baby," you panted breathlessly, fingers tugging at his roots in hopes of gaining his attention, "baby, w-wait-" Pulling a bit harder, you were met with a groan of pleasure, sending your back into a small arch as the vibrations flowed through you.

With a small gasp of air, he pulled away just enough for you to catch the shine of your arousal coating the tip of his nose and lips, pupils blown with a fog of desire that made your mouth run dry.

"What's wrong? Did I hurt you? D'you wanna stop?"

"No, no, you're amazing - if we stopped now I might actually die," giving him a reassuring smile, you brushed a few strands of hair away from his forehead, "but as wonderful as your tongue is, I'd rather come on your dick first."

"Fuck." Pressing a kiss to your inner thigh, he sat up with a groan, "We're going to have to do something about that mouth of yours."

Blinking up at him with faux innocent eyes, you tilted your head, "I'm just telling the truth, sir."

He smirked at the pout set on your lips, leaning over you to nip gently at the flesh, "That's fine, I just wonder what else it can do." Sweeping you into a feather light kiss, he murmured softly, "You'll show me later, though, won't you, princess?"

Your pussy fluttered, clenching around nothing as you nodded without hesitation - only focused on getting those pretty lips, tinted with the taste of your arousal, back on your own.

"Good girl."

Chris pulled back, laughing at your whine of disdain while his hands got to work sliding down his black shorts with ease, shifting to get them fully off and added as the final item to the pile on the floor.

In the midst of all of his moving, you were able to catch a glimpse of just exactly what he was packing and your jaw dropped - the accidental peek you'd seen a month ago barely comparing to the full on staring contest you were having now.

He was big, bigger than most you'd had before in almost every way, and you nearly began to consider if it would even fit; your gaze trailing up the slight curve it held, mouth watering at a prominent vein running along the side.

"I'll go slow."

Your gaze snapped back up to meet his own, the previously cocky aura he held now warm and comforting, and your - admittedly needless - worries subsided.

"And I meant what I said earlier," reaching over to his nightstand, he pulled open a small drawer to take out a small, obvious box, "if you want me to stop, just say so."

Leaning up on your elbows, you watched as he pulled out a foil packet, "Do you know about safewords?"

"Yeah," bringing his full attention back to you, he tilted his head, "d'you have one?"

"Pear, for a hard stop, or the light system if it's easier for you to work with."

Scoffing out a laugh, he shook his head, "Whichever works for you, baby - I'll remember."

As you laid yourself back onto his bed, he made work of ripping open the condom packet, taking out the rubber and sliding it on with careful, yet experienced ease.

"Y'know, I never thought someone could look hot while putting on a condom, but I don't mind being proven wrong." When he ducked his head in embarrassment, a familiar sheepish blush beginning to turn his ears red, you giggled at your small achievement.

"It's our first time together, I didn't want to just assume that... you know." Growing past his shyness, Chris settled himself between your legs once more, one hand holding the back of your knee while the other wrapped around the base of his cock - a shiver of brief relief running down his spine. "Ready?"

Taking a deep breath, you nodded, "Ready."

Dropping his gaze, he leaned forward to press the covered head of his dick against your glistening entrance, biting his lip at the warmth emanating through before pushing onward - working the tip past your walls slowly.

The increasing stretch had a low moan escaping you, each inch introducing a new wave of pain tinted pleasure that shot from the top of your head to your toes. "Fuck, Chris."

He wasn't faring any better on his end, the lack of attention given to his dick since you first sat in his lap had him beyond sensitive and holding fast to his promise like a lifeline - go slow, go slow.

"Relax for me, baby," he gritted out, shivering as your walls clenched around the half of his length he managed to sink in, "just a little more, okay? Just need you to let me in."

"'M trying - you're so big." You couldn't find yourself to care about the desperate whine that took your voice, not when you were being deliciously filled with more to come.

Abandoning his hold on your thigh, he licked the pad of his thumb before bringing it to your clit, rubbing gentle circles in hopes of helping you relax further - and it worked. He was able to slowly sheath the rest of his dick inside of you, breathing a sigh of relief, while you shivered underneath him, canting your hips against the consistent flicks of his thumb against your sensitive nub.

"M-Move- Oh god, please move, Channie."

"Are you sure you're ready for that? I can wait-"

"Channie," looking up at him, you tried your best to give him a firm stare through the mind fogging lust, "I need you to fuck me; the color's green, it's so green, I promise - please, just fuck me already!"

He took his thumb off of your clit in favor of holding onto your hip instead, hovering over your body and keeping himself balanced with his left hand.

Licking his lips, his eyes searched your face for any signs of doubt, but he was simply met with desire and need. "Okay, only because you said please."

A smile lit up your face, and just as you went to give him a teasing reply, your body jolted forward and a surprised moan shot past your lips instead.

Another sharp thrust rocked your body and your hands scrambled to find purchase on his broad shoulders, latching onto him to take every quick, deep thrust he delivered before he fell into a regular pace of thorough strokes that had you seeing stars.

Chris watched every subtle shift in your expression after each thrust, drinking in the cute pinch of your eyebrows and pout of your lips while the sounds of your moans created a symphony in his head.

"Beautiful," he murmured, shifting his knees to allow him to drive deeper into your dripping cunt, "my pretty girl, taking me like you're fucking made for me."

The shift in his hips led you to lift your own, and the resulting graze of his cock against your g-spot had a near pornographic moan leaving you - neighbors be damned.

Swiping his tongue across his bottom lip, he made a mental note to keep that angle as long as he could. "There it is - Fuck, look at you."

Your nails scratched down his shoulder blades, earning a sharp hiss of pain from the man above you, yet he continued on without hesitation.

"I wish I told you sooner," stifling a grunt, he switched up the pace with slow, shallow rolls of his hips, "could've had this pussy wrapped around me every fucking night."

A helpless whine vibrated through you, but the following moan was something neither you or him was prepared for.

"Daddy!"

There was a brief pause, not even lasting a full minute though it was glaringly obvious to you - even in your blissed out haze. Blinking up at him with worried eyes, you were ready to apologize for the mortifying slip up until you realized he wasn't looking down at you in disgust - but, rather, unrestrained lust.

"Daddy, hm? Is that what my pretty baby wants?" Sliding his hand down your thigh, he maneuvered to hook your leg in the crook of his arm and bring it up higher, evidently opening you up more. "I don't mind, it's fitting - you don't need sir right now anyways, isn't that right, princess? So," rutting his hips into yours, a cocky smirk curved his lips, "keep being a good girl and tell daddy just how good he's making you feel."

You could've died right then and there and considered it a fulfilling life; pinned underneath your best friend, your roommate, fucked within an inch of your sanity while he murmurs the dirtiest sentences you ever imagined from those glorious lips of his.

"O-Oh, god- P-Please, daddy-"

"Please, what, baby? I love hearing you beg, but you have to tell me what you want."

He knew what you wanted, he could feel it with each pulse of your cunt, the way your leg tensed in his hold while your body writhed underneath him - you were close, and he wanted to see just how far he could push you.

"I-I want- Fuck-" You squeezed the flexed muscle of his bicep, while your free hand fisted the pillowcase underneath your head, trying your best to gather the brain cells to make a comprehensible sentence through his unrelenting pace. "I wanna come- wanna come for you," blinking up at him with glossy eyes, you submitted instantly, "please, daddy, can I?"

Chris' pace faltered for the smallest of seconds, his heart swelling and his dick aching for the release he'd been fighting back since he entered your warm pussy - there was no use in stalling for more time, not when you needed him as much as he needed you.

"Hold it for just a little longer, princess." When you gave a displeased whine, he leaned down to kiss the pout off of your face, "It won't be long, I promise - ten seconds, you can count with me, yeah?"

Nodding desperately, you snuck another kiss from him before waiting for his next instruction, trying your best to suppress your lingering orgasm.

"Good girl - now, can you use your fingers to play with your clit for me? You can keep holding onto me, just use your free hand."

You followed his directions diligently, quickly licking your index finger before managing to work your arm between your bodies and finding your puffy clit with ease; the lightest touch sending a shock of pleasure through your system.

"'S too much, I-I can't-"

He shushed you, "You can, I know you can, just count with me, okay? Focus on me, baby - starting from ten."

Swallowing back a whine, you took a shivering breath, "T-Ten."

"Good, keep counting."

As your slow, broken countdown continued, he took the time to adjust his position one final time; sitting up straight and using his left hand to gather your leg in the same position as your right, holding you spread open and fully subject to his will.

"Seven... S-Six- Oh my god-" Your eyes rolled, your body feeling like fire was liking at each of your limbs as you rubbed quick circles around your clit.

"Don't stop counting, princess," Chris grunted, licking his lips as sweat beaded along his forehead, "come on, five."

A short sob broke past your lips, eyebrows pinching together, "I c-can't- I can't, daddy!"

"Four." He continued on, angling your legs slightly higher and focusing on the almost hypnotizing wet slapping sound of your pussy all but drenching his cock and the sheets underneath. "Three - almost there, baby, keep holding it for me."

You made a noise, not caring what it sounded like as long as it was known that you were still hanging in there, if only by a thread.

"T-Two - my perfect girl, doing so well for daddy, s-so fucking proud of you," he gritted out, breaths coming in bated pants as he exchanged the speed of this thrusts for more power, watching your back arch off of the bed in the process. "One - come, come for me, baby."

Your body followed through before your mind had the chance to comprehend his words, white-hot pleasure flooding through your veins as you came with a cry of his name - at least, you hoped the sound that came out resembled his name.

Chris groaned, doing his best to fuck you through your orgasm until he came with a shivering gasp, almost pained, high pitched whines falling from his lips with each wave; his dick quickly being surrounded by the warmth of his cum filling the latex.

Hours could've passed before you were able to come back to your senses, blinking your eyes open and dazedly looking at the man above you.

Even after sending you to the moon and back, he looked as breathtaking as ever; chest heaving and head tossed back, large hands now caressing your thighs as your feet met the mattress once more.

"Fuck." He laughed breathlessly, lifting his head to look at you with glittering eyes, "You okay? That- I didn't go too far, did I?"

Oh, he was going to be the death of you.

Shooting him a tired smile, you shook your head, "I'm more than okay - that was amazing, daddy."

You didn't miss the way his dick twitched inside of you from your words, his hands squeezing you softly.

"Princess, as much as I love hearing you say that, I might end up fucking you through the mattress if you keep it up."

Biting your lip, you not-so-subtly glanced at the open box on his nightstand before looking at him with daring eyes, "If I call you my boyfriend, can you fuck me into the next morning?"

He paused as if heavily pondering your words, then slowly pulled out of your sensitive walls with a grunt, "If you let me call you my girlfriend and let me take you on a date, you can call me both and I'll fuck you until you can't walk."

A bright smile found its way to your face and you nodded happily, "Deal, boyfriend."

With a grin as bright as the sun, he made quick work of taking off the used condom before tying it and tossing it in the small trash near his nightstand; returning to hover over you with warm eyes, "Deal, girlfriend."

Safe to say, he upheld his end of the deal with flying colors, and you planned the date as soon as you regained the ability to walk a day later.

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @goblinracha, @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @j-onedrabbles, @happilydeepestwonderland, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @sometimesleeknows, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @instabull, @maximumkillshot, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @specialstay, @broken-glowsticks, @s00buwu, @dancerachaslut, @junglyric, @tinyelfperson, @jj-stay, @katsukis1wife, @inlovewithmusician, @keen-li, @armystay89, @main-character0, @vampcharxter, @ddyskz, @prettymiye0n, @bbgnyx, @ivyisnotokay

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies for Pt. 2 [If you want to be added to my official tag list please fill out the form below]: @turtledove824, @boi-bi-ahaha, @skzworlddomination44, @brojustfknkillm3

✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!

[sakur4ii]

Rooted Connections

Charles Xavier x Erik Lensherr x Reader

the gender of the reader is not specified // based on X-Men Days Of Future Past, but the scenarios are made up

Summary: You are blind, and you control the earth (you also listen to the plants) you are like a mutant version of Toph Beifong basically. Also you and Charles bullying at Erik for not noticing the obvious.

maybe part 2 in the future? let me know if there are any mistakes because English is not my first language.

Charles "I'm not good with violence" Xavier

"‘Can I know where we are going?’ Charles asks, irritated by the mystery Logan is adding to the situation.

‘You'll see,’ the man replies with a half-amused smile.

In the future, you were a legend, a myth. The original X-Men never stopped talking about you when Logan arrived at the mansion, and over time, their respect for you and your amazing deeds only grew. Something Logan struggled to learn about you was that you had a romantic relationship with both Charles and Erik. He didn’t understand it until Ororo explained that it was a polyamorous relationship, which helped him understand much more about the Professor and his nemesis.

In the horrible future from which they sent him, Erik and Charles ordered him to force a reunion between the two of them and your first meeting with them.

Part of him found the situation amusing, feeling like Cupid but with bone claws instead of a bow and arrows. Another part of him hoped that this forced encounter wouldn’t jeopardize the relationship destined to be in the future.

Once they arrived at what was supposed to be your home, Peter was the first to get out of the car, followed by Hank, Charles, and Logan.

They were in a place slightly secluded from the city, full of forests, dirt, plants, and flowers. There was only one house in sight, well-maintained and decorated on the outside; Charles gave you credit for that.

They walked up the short driveway, and Logan didn’t even need to knock for the door to open by itself. Logan smiled amusedly while the other three men glanced at each other in confusion.

‘Excuse me,’ Logan murmured, entering the house, closely followed by the others.

The house was cozy and minimalist, with the few pieces of furniture placed against the walls, giving the appearance of more space than there actually was. They entered what seemed to be the kitchen, where there you were.

You had your back to them as you did something on the kitchen counter. Judging by the sound, you were preparing coffee.

‘Coffee or tea?’ you asked disinterestedly, creating another round of confused glances.

‘Coffee,’ Peter answered with a smile. Logan sat down at the table on the side of the kitchen, which had three chairs.

‘I suppose the furry guy and the one who's supposed to have paralyzed legs are more into tea,’ you commented as you set the water to boil. You pointed to the fridge next to you. ‘There's beer in the fridge.’

Logan raised his eyebrows at the two completely confused men in the kitchen doorway as he went for the said beer, while Peter took a seat.

Hank and Charles didn’t understand anything. Were you a telepath? Hank was in his human form, and Charles was full of the serum to be able to walk, so… how?

Logan returned to his seat, and that’s when you finally turned around, leaving them all (except for Wolverine) surprised.

Although you usually wore sunglasses, you had taken them off when your plants alerted you that someone from the future was coming to see you. Your eyes were white, lost.

You put your hands in your pockets and leaned your back against the counter. ‘I suppose they want you to help them get Magneto out of the Pentagon.’

‘She’s good,’ Peter murmured in amusement.

‘Are you a telepath?’ Charles finally asked, crossing his arms.

‘No,’ you smiled at him.

‘Then?’ Hank asked this time, while Logan just watched the interaction like it was a soap opera, sipping his beer.

‘I control anything to do with the earth, I understand plants, and I see through the roots of trees, although I can also sense all your movements through the ground we’re standing on,’ you explained, serving the tea and coffee.

You heard Peter whisper ‘cool’ as you handed out the cups.

‘Your plants told you,’ the professor concluded, taking a sip of tea, which happened to be his favorite flavor. You nodded.

‘People have told me you have good reflexes; is that true?’ Wolverine’s question made you smile slyly.

‘Of course it is.’

‘Then catch this,’ he challenged, tossing the empty beer bottle at you.

Hank and Charles looked horrified as he threw the bottle, while Peter was ready to intervene if necessary.

Through your bare feet, you could feel how almost everyone’s heart skipped a beat, but you caught the bottle in mid-air as if it was nothing. The collective sigh of relief that followed made you laugh.

‘So, are we going or what?’

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

After successfully getting Magneto out of prison, you had to sit with Charles and Erik on the plane, according to Logan’s poor excuse, ‘So they don’t kill each other.’

After a tense conversation between the two, during which you just sat in silence, Erik spoke up.

‘Why are you barefoot?’

‘So I can see you'

Erik frowned in confusion, while Charles barely suppressed an amused smile. Erik still hadn’t realized that you were blind, since you were wearing sunglasses, and you hadn’t given any indication that you were. Of course, Erik found it odd that you were always looking straight ahead and not making eye contact with anyone, but he assumed you might be shy.

‘Am I missing an inside joke?’ Erik asked again, noticing his old friend’s poorly concealed smile.

‘No, nothing, don’t think too much about it,’ Charles replied, trying to hold back a laugh but failing, causing you to smile in amusement.

Magneto frowned in confusion, feeling like he was missing something, and he had to admit it made him a bit jealous. He finally reunites with Charles, the man he loves, and Charles has inside jokes with someone he’s never seen before and, as far as he knows, only met today.

‘Explain to me, what’s so funny?’ he asked, hiding his growing irritation, raising an eyebrow as he looked between the two of you, who were still stifling your laughter. Erik couldn’t help but notice that you were still looking straight ahead. ‘Is it something related to her mutation? I thought Y/N only controlled the earth and talked to plants?

‘You can do a lot with the earth, isn’t that right, Charles?’ you replied with amusement. The man in the wheelchair, who miraculously walks, rested his head on his hand, trying to hide his smile as he nodded. ‘Yes, yes, of course,’ he said.

Erik felt his irritation growing, along with his heart racing at the melodic sound of your shared, complicit laughter.

The gears in Magneto’s mind started to turn as he realized.

You were wearing sunglasses that you hadn’t taken off, even on the plane, always looking straight ahead, not having looked at either him or Charles this whole time, and you said you were barefoot so you could see him.

‘You’re blind,’ he concluded, rubbing his forehead in a mix of irritation and embarrassment, earning loud laughs from both of you that attracted curious and annoyed looks from Hank and Logan.

‘Took you long enough,’ you said, patting him on the shoulder in consolation.

‘Something I don’t understand is, how do you “see” through your feet now if we’re on a plane?’ Charles asked once his laughter had calmed down.

‘The earth has metal particles, and metal has earth particles, I suppose,’ you answered.

‘Does that mean you can control metal?’ Erik now asked with curiosity.

‘Sometimes, although it’s not easy at all, it requires a lot of effort,’ you replied, shrugging.

‘Interesting,’ they said in unison, glancing at each other and smiling as if they were thinking the same thing.

‘I sense tension… are you two going to kiss?’ you joked.

The two men rolled their eyes and smiled at each other, definitely thinking the same thing, while you felt confused because they didn’t give you any response."

Pt.2

[cressidagrey]

Stars all aligned - Chapter 2

Summary:

If there was one thing that both Azriel and Zahra Archeron had in common, it was that they were both very good at blending into the background.

They just never thought that their family were going to be the ones who never saw them at all.

Warning:

Bashing of like...every IC member? I think Rhys gets the worst though, kinda depression?, isolation, Cassian is an idiot, slut-shaming?, discussion of SA

(Lovely dividers thanks to @sweetmelodygraphics)

Azriel kept showing up. 

And Zahra kept letting him in. 

She had no fucking clue what possessed her. 

And yet every time Azriel showed up at her doorstep…she let him in without protest. 

He always brought food or he cooked. Always something to eat. And he always stayed until she had consumed an entire serving in front of her. 

She should tell him to stop. She should tell him to leave her alone.

But Zahra never said a word. 

Zahra couldn’t manage that. 

It wasn’t like she had had many private conversations with Azriel before. And she did get t to see a side of him that…she never seen before. The kind, gentle side with a biting sense of humour. She could be as bitter and cutting with him as she wanted to be and he gave back just as sharply…but it never got personal. They never hurt each other.

And she got to know him. Not the spymaster, not Rhysand’s most trusted spy….but Azriel. The male. Not the Illyrian warrior, not the fae…but just him. as a person. Azriel who loved good food and good books. Azriel who smiled and who was gentle and kind…and coaxed mice back outside with never-ending patience. 

It was strange, how easy it was to talk to him. How easy and relaxed it felt to spend time with him. How natural it was that he was there. 

As if it had always been the two of them cooking together. 

She shouldn’t get too used to it. It wasn’t going to last. Zahra knew it wouldn’t. But she allowed herself to bask in it. Just for a little bit longer. 

Bask in the feeling of…having at least one person in this new life that…dare she say it? Was like a friend to her.

A friend. When was the last time she had had one of those? 

She didn’t want to think about that.

Just like she didn’t want to think about it, when Azriel started showing up earlier, reports in hand and joined her in working at the rickety old kitchen table.

Zahra worked on the ledgers, sorting through the numbers. And he sat right across from her, reading through his reports, quietly sipping his tea. 

(He had brought better tea with him.)

Zahra had thought that he would annoy her… but they were utterly content with ignoring each other for hours at a time. No need for words or unnecessary conversation. Just the comfortable silence of each other’s presence. It was oddly…pleasant. 

And somehow his presence…it lit something inside her. When she dropped off the account ledgers the next time, she made a quick detour to a cheap antique store just a few doors down.

Zahra browsed through the shelves on the inside. 

It was a tiny shop, filled up to the brim with old stuff and odd trinkets from the past. And then she found something that made her pause. 

An absolutely ugly, oversized armchair with the most horrible plaid pattern…but it looked like it was made for wings. The one chair in her kitchen worked for Azriel because the back was narrow enough to slot through the middle of his wings, while the one she preferred wouldn’t have worked in a million years…but the couch she had…that was another story. No way that couch was comfortable for him. 

But this armchair….

It was perfect, if you were willing to overlook the absolutely hideous pattern. But Zahra kind of grew to like it with each second that passed. So she pulled on her best haggling skills and bought that monstrosity. 

And then Zahra had the seething hot realisation that she needed to get it home somehow. She felt a tug at the hem of her skirt and stared down to find a tendril of shadows tugging at her.

One of Azriel’s. She just knew it.

The same shadows that liked prowling through her rooms and pruning the sad basil plant on her windowsill… She was also quite sure that they had started to oil the hinges on her door, but she hadn’t yet caught them in the act.

“You don’t to be able to bring that home for me, do you?” She asked them drily. The shadows coiled in a way that made her assume that they were laughing at her. Or at least having fun. It was honestly hard to tell. But another tendril popped into existence as if to say ‚Yes, I can do that!‘ 

A moment later, the chair had disappeared.

Zahra just hoped it actually had been Azriel’s shadows and not another bunch that liked stealing stuff. The thought that she had just given a chair away to some random shadows for free was a slightly concerning one. Oh well. Hopefully, it would arrive at her house soon enough and not at some random place. She had just paid for a pretty decent sum of money for that monstrosity after all. 

She bought other stuff too. Like actual spices, so Azriel wouldn't need to keep bringing all of that with him every time...another couple of plates...A blanket for the living room...

She didn’t even know what possessed her to do that. It was like something inside of her just…woke back up again. She had been dead in more ways than one. But Azriel was slowly coaxing her back to life. 

She felt more alive than she’d done in a long time. She could actually feel her heart beating. Her blood rushing in her veins. She could…feel again. And it was such an odd sensation. 

To her surprise, the armchair stood in the middle of her living room when Zahra arrived home.

A little shadow wrapped itself around her wrist as she gaped at the monstrosity sitting in her living room. The shadow seemed proud of itself.

"Thank you," Zara said politely and the shadow ruffled up as it preened. It was honestly kind of cute. And it was odd to see it like this. A small little bit of…personality. So different from what she’d always thought the shadows would be like. 

Then the shadow disappeared again and she was left with…the armchair. Which was now placed right in the middle of her living room.

Damn it. She forgot about how absolutely ugly it was. 

But oh well. It fit right in with some of the flaking of paint in the rest of her house...and the rotting floorboards in one corner.

At least that armchair was comfortable. She had to admit it. There was something oddly charming about that ugly old chair. 

She sighed, ignoring the chair for the moment as she organised her spices in the kitchen and then went back to work.

Azriel showed up in the evening that day, blinking twice at the chair.

“Where’d you get that eyesore?” he simply asked in greeting. 

"Antique shop," Zahra gave back drily. "And I bought it for your wings, thank you very much."

That made him blink in surprise. "For my wings?" he echoed and his eyebrows shot up.  "You bought an armchair for me?" 

There was something about the absolute surprise in his voice that made her want to laugh. "Yes, I did, Shadowsinger," she confirmed. "And just for you, I will ignore that horrendous plaid pattern that is covering every inch of that hideous thing." 

His lips curved into a smile, something like fond amusement playing in his eyes. "What a kind thing of you," he returned with equal amounts of dryness. "To give me such a wonderful eyesore to keep my wings company." 

He dropped down into the chair and she had to admit that it was perfect for his wings. They slotted through the gap in the back and seat without problem and he looked like he melted into the cushions. 

"It may be the ugliest thing I have ever seen, but it is the most comfortable too," he admitted with a sigh.

A small smirk edged up her lips. "I know," she simply said. "So you are stuck with it now. Consider it as a present for all the food that you give me." 

He snorted in amusement.

His head dropped back and he looked up at her, his hazel eyes glinting in the dim light. His wings were flared all over the back of that chair and she couldn’t help but notice how damn huge they were. 

He was big. She knew he was, of course, but it was easy to forget when she saw him next to Cassian. But Azriel was broad and muscular all on his own…and his wings flared all over her living room really emphasised it. 

And for some damn reason, she had the sudden mental image of his wings wrapped around her. The thought was absolutely ludicrous and completely inappropriate. 

She firmly squashed the mental image and instead just focused on the fact that Azriel was still looking at her through half-lidded eyes. There was an amused, almost fond smirk on his lips. 

"Where do I get paint from?" she blurted out.

That made his eyebrows raise. "Paint? Why do you need paint?" he inquired as he sat forward and his wings folded back against his body. 

"I should probably do something against the flaking-off paint around here," she admitted with a shrug.

He pursed his lips in thought. “And I assume you’ll try to do this all by yourself.” That wasn’t a question. He sounded pretty damn certain what her answer would be. 

"Have you talked to your landlord?" he asked her. "Are you allowed to do that? I mean, whoever it is is probably going to be happy that you do something...to stop this whole house from falling apart, but still.” 

She rolled her eyes at him. "You know, this house is mine," she gave back drily. "I can do whatever I want with it."

Azriel’s brows shot up at that, an amused surprise in his eyes. “You own this place?” he echoed, clearly not having expected that. 

"I won it in a game of cards," she admitted drily. "The guy I won it from inherited it and wanted to get rid of it. Nobody wants it because it's out of the way, but I like it."

Her one and only time in a tavern had left her with the house. She should probably consider that beginner’s luck. 

“You won it in a game of cards…?” he repeated again, a note of genuine surprise in his voice. “Are you joking?” 

Her lips curled into a smirk. “Nope,” she said with great amusement. “Nine men's morris to be exact. The idiot lost it fair and square.” 

He was looking at her in a sort of disbelief, yet there was something like respect in his eyes. “Remind me never to play cards with you,” he said drily. 

She just shrugged. "It was just once," Zahra said with a sigh. "I went to one of the taverns...decided to get utterly wasted," she snorted. "I don't think becoming an alcoholic is for me, because I spent 3 days afterwards throwing up."

“The hangover must’ve been brutal,” Azriel commented dryly. "So you won a house in a game of cards."

She just gave a nod. “Pretty much, as ridiculous as it sounds. I do think it needs some paint though."

Azriel just snorted. "I think it needs more than paint," he said drily. "It probably needs to be demolished and built up again."

“It’s not that bad,” she protested, but even to her, that sounded weak. The place was a dump. It was a literal dump. "It has character," Zahra said, her resolve growing. "Just because it's a little broken, doesn't make it garbage," she whispered.

There was something sad in her voice and Azriel just looked at her, a certain quiet understanding in his eyes. And she cursed him inwardly, because he saw too much. 

He always saw too much. Saw through her defences and the walls that she’d built up. 

"You are right," he agreed. "It's a little bit broken. But I am sure can be fixed."

A sharp pang flared up in her chest at his words, as if that gentle acceptance and quiet understanding from him hurt. She pushed it down, refusing to examine the feeling too closely. 

"And there a few different shops in Velaris that sell...paint...and other...things to...improve a house."

"You mean to stop it from falling down onto my head?" she asked him wryly

“Exactly,” he responded with an amused smile as he folded his wings again. “And stop the drafty windows from letting in a constant, cold breeze.” 

Damn it…she had been hoping he hadn’t noticed that. But of course, he had, because he was observant. Far too observant. 

“And you know, maybe put in a proper lock at the door,” he continued drily. “And fix the leaking tap in the bathroom…”

Zahra rolled her eyes at that. “I like that dripping sound, it’s very melodic,” she said with sarcasm drizzling from her voice. 

It made him chuckle lowly. The shadows around him rippled and coiled in response to their master’s amusement.  “You have a strange concept of melodious sound, if you find dripping water to be in any way pleasing,” he told her drily. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, should I be swooning over the sound of a harp or the violin?” she rebutted with a sharp little snort. 

“Not necessarily,” Azriel replied with an amused smirk. “Any other sound would be better than that constant drip…Though I have been known to enjoy the symphony on occasion," he admitted to her. "Or even some of the taverns."

A snort of laughter left her lips at that, despite herself. “I can’t imagine you in a tavern,” she told him honestly. 

He shot her a dry look at that. “Why not?” he asked, raising a single eyebrow at her. 

“It just doesn’t fit,” she gave back bluntly. “You in your leathers, standing in the middle of rowdy drunks. Just seems so odd.” 

He rolled his eyes at that. “I know how to dress down,” he rebuked her drily. “And I also know how to blend in.” 

“You’d stick out like a sore thumb, even if you wore absolutely normal clothes,” she retorted. “Your muscles betray you, Shadowsinger.” 

He huffed at that and then leaned back into the armchair, arms folded. “Now you’re just being insulting,” he groused and she snorted. 

“Oh, did your ego get bruised, Shadowsinger? How terrible,” Zahra dead-panned, making him roll his eyes again. 

"Let's just see if I bother making dessert, for you if you continue that," he groused at her. "I got all the makings of caramel pudding."

“What?! No, wait.” She leaned forward, something like panic on her face. “You cannot dangle that in front of me and then not give in! I even bought you an armchair!" she told him, making him snort.

“It’s a hideous armchair,” he pointed out with a smirk on his lips. “You really think it’s a gift?” 

“Hey! You agreed that it was comfortable,” she protested. “And you can’t deny that your wings like it too.” 

He snorted as he stood up and walked into her kitchen.

She did get caramel pudding in the end. Of course, she did. Even Azriel wasn’t immune to some good old puppy eyes. 

***

Zahra bought him a chair. He wasn't quite sure what to do with that knowledge. 

The fact that she had thought of him enough to buy one for him…it was something he was still trying to process in his mind. 

With the idea that she had spent her own money not on something to make herself uncomfortable...with the fact that her own bed was a mattress on the floor...but she had made sure that the next major piece of furniture she bought hadn't been a proper bed...but instead an armchair for him.

The fact that she had deliberately put his comfort above her own…yeah, he still didn’t know what to do with that information. 

He also didn't know what to do with the information that he actually...he actually really liked her.

Maybe it had been there since the beginning and he just hadn’t noticed it. But the more time he spent with her, more she made him laugh or argue or just…talk. The more he started to like her and appreciate her company. 

She was quick-witted and smart...and so quick to bloom if anybody paid her any attention. And when it was just the two of them at her house...well, then it was...it was so easy. So comfortable.

He forgot to remember to make sure to not give her any reason to be scared of him because she never was. She didn't even blink twice if he came home with the carcass of a deer slung over his shoulder, only cleaned off the table so that she could help strip it.

She asked questions about what he was doing and genuinely seemed interested. Never judged or looked at him weirdly, because she just seemed to get it. Just took him being the spymaster in stride, because that was who he was. Accepted it almost like she accepted his shadows.

He didn't think he would even need to hide the blood that coated his hands, because Zahra didn't seem to care one way or another.

She didn’t even ask him where he had been during the day or what he did. She just accepted the blood and dirt that came with it. 

And quite frankly…if he did his work at her dining table or locked into his room at the House of Wind…who cared?

That dilapidated cottage at least had better company than his own brooding one.

And it never felt felt he was intruding on Zahra when she used him as free labour for whatever redecorating she was doing that day.

They replaced the floorboards…he helped paint the door…

In fact, he was willingly going to her house every night, like it was the most normal thing in the world to do. It probably wasn’t, but he didn’t care. Every evening, when Azriel was done with his duties, he simply dropped into her house. 

They cooked together. Illyrian recipes that he knew…then some that he didn’t know that he had asked his mother for, who had answered into a sprawling letter…recipes that Zahra knew from her human years…and then he brought a cookbook from the library in the House Of Wind and they did that too.

The one thing the two of them did agree on though, was that no dinner was complete without dessert.

They both had a horrible sweet tooth.

Unspokenly, Zahra was the one who lit the fire of the fireplace and the oven…who put food in the oven and pulled it out again.

Zahra didn’t say a word about it. She just did it.

He didn’t even think about who was doing what if he was being honest. He just enjoyed having a shared dinner and the easy conversations that were taking place. It became as routine as breathing, just being in her house and spending the evening with her. 

He tended to linger too. Kept staying with her. So that he doesn’t need to return to the House of Wind, try and fail to sleep and listen to Cassian’s and Nesta's enthusiastic lovemaking.

That was why he stayed. He really needed to avoid the lovebirds at all costs, because they were…just too damn loud. It would have been funny if it wasn’t so damn annoying. 

“If you want and ruin your back on my couch, be my guest,” Zahra said one evening and he froze, staring at her.

She had gained some weight. It looked good on her. No longer a back of skin and bones as she had been, but her cheeks were fuller, Her clothing filled out more.

His gaze briefly flicked up to the couch and the frown on his face grew. “Honestly, that thing is probably the worst place to sleep,” he muttered. “But…I think I prefer it over listening to my brother and his mate going at it.” 

“Nice,” Zahra said with a snort, seemingly unbothered by the comment. “Seems like they know what it means to respect your need for sleep.”

Azriel snorted at that too. “Not quite,” he retorted with dry amusement. “They just don’t care.” It was the damn truth. Cassian and Nesta didn’t even bother putting up any kind of noise-mutting spell to spare his already poor sleep. 

Still…if he stayed there…” Aren’t you worried that I…” he trailed off.

“What? Ravish me?” Zahra drawled. “You had every chance at it for weeks and you haven’t touched me. So no, not really, Azriel.”

“I simply don't want to overstep my boundaries,” he found himself saying quietly. "I wouldn’t force myself on you," he continued with a quiet severity in his voice. "Not ever." I am not a brute," he added firmly. 

“Oh trust me, I don’t think you're a brute,” Zahra told him dryly. “If you wanted to force yourself on me, then you would have done it weeks ago.” 

He nearly flinched at the matter-of-fact way she said that. 

“I would never do that,” he choked out. 

“You are a good man,” Zara said quietly.

Something in his chest flared at that. A mix of shame and guilt, because he was so far away from being a good man. “I don’t want to give you any reason to fear me,” he said quietly, the words tumbling out of him before he could even stop them. 

Her expression softened at that and he held his breath. His shadows coiled, as if they were holding their inhale as well, waiting for her response. 

“It’s funny…” she began quietly and he had to forcibly keep himself from leaning in. “You have never given me a reason. Never.” He blinked at that, a small sense of surprise flaring up in his chest. 

“I…have never once been scared of you,” she told him bluntly and he stared at her incredulously. Because how could she ever say that? How could anyone not be scared of the spymaster of the Night Court? The male who was rumoured to be the spawn of nightmares and death? 

“Don’t look so surprised,” she deadpanned at the sight of his undoubtedly shocked face. “Honestly, you’re the biggest softie I’ve ever met.” 

“I am not a softie,” he protested with a sharp frown on his face. “I am a literal Shadowsinger. I am anything but soft.” He told her firmly. 

“Sure…” she said with a sarcastic roll of her eyes, clearly not believing a word he said. “You are a terrifying man for sure, Shadowsinger.” He bristled at her cheeky tone. “That’s why you come over here every night and feed me.”

“I-” he paused, not knowing what to rebut with that statement. It was true. He came over every, single night to share dinner with her, to…just spend time with her. 

Zahra just laughed, patting his cheek and then disappeared into her bedroom. “Good Night!”

Azriel let out a long breath and just shook his head at her retreating back. Sometimes he had no idea what to do with her.

But he also couldn’t resist the smile that tugged on his lips and he moved over to the couch, curling up on it and trying to make himself comfortable as much as possible. 

Even when it was a far cry from a massive bed in the House of Wind…it was the best night of sleep he had in ages.

As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he fell asleep fairly quickly. And even his shadows seemed to rest easy, coiling around his body and the couch like a cocoon. 

And for the first time in a long time, his dreams weren’t plagued by nightmares. 

He was awake before dawn, stocking up the fireplace and moving silently across the cottage so that Zahra could still sleep a few hours.

And then he winnowed to the House of Wind for a quick breakfast. He was out there preparing the training rings before anybody else.

It also meant that the shadows were happily trembling around him.

Which was good, because he still had a question to ask them.

“How high are the chances that you cheated at cards so that Zahra would get that house?” He asked the shadows drily.

There was a tendril of shadows assigned to each family member. Only so that Azriel would know where they were at every given moment. He never asked the shadows for more, he respected everybody’s privacy as well as he could…but…But this hadn’t let him go for weeks.

No answer.

He hadn’t expected one.

“Of course,” he said with a sigh. “You like her.” It wasn’t a question.

We do! The shadows answered brightly. She treats Master well!

His lips curled up into a slight smirk at that. They were right. She did treat him well. She never treated him like an intimidating male…she just treated him like any other person. With respect. With kindness. 

Teasing him.

He chuckled to himself at the memories of her teasing him, the way they bickered as if that was the most usual thing in the world. 

She isn’t scared of us like the other ones, the shadows whispered softly.

It was clear who they meant with that comment. Elain and Mor both. Zahra seemed to find the shadows more fascinating than anything. Talking to them even sometimes. In response, the shadows doted on her. Happy for once not to be ignored and outright feared.

He hummed his agreement at that. She wasn't scared of them…and they were growing quite fond of her. Which…he wasn't quite sure how he felt about that. 

She’s pretty too, Master, the shadows commented quietly.

Azriel paused in his work at those words. Yes, she was pretty. With her tawny skin and dark brown hair…and green eyes….Her skin seemed to bloom with health. The way her body had filled out, her hips gaining more curves, her face getting softer. 

Though it did surprise him that the shadows made that comment. They had never done something similar about any other female…even females he had bedded.

That was certainly a surprise. He had to pause and think about it for a few moments. The shadows had never made any sort of comment like that on another female. On any female in fact. Yet they thought her pretty. That…was a thought he filed away for later. 

She doesn’t have a mate either…she’s free of…romantic entanglements, the shadows continued quietly. If you wanted her….

He froze at that. “Are you trying to convince me to pursue her?” He spoke out loud to the shadows. 

You like her. She would make you happy, the shadows responded. What’s the harm? 

“There is no harm,” he mumbled to them quietly, his fingers curling tighter around the handle of the spear that he was holding. “Nothing except that she would likely not be interested.” 

And he was done with that. Done with being turned down. Done with never being a choice.

If he just stayed her friend…he got to spend time with her…he got to listen to her laughs and giggles. He got to be treated by her with kindness and respect. Why destroy that?

It would be cruel and selfish to ruin the friendship he had gained by trying to turn that into anything else. She trusted him. She treated him like a person. And he wanted to keep it like that. 

And Zahra deserved better than him still being half hung up over Elain. Her sister.

Though to be quite honest…he had let that go. Elain had chosen Lucien and that was that. Azriel was more pissed off about how Rhysand was treating him than anything.

Though he never showed it, he was quietly furious at how Rhysand was treating him. After he had agreed to back off…he had hoped Rhysand would stop acting like an overprotective mother hen. 

He didn't.

And then Mor's Mating Bond with Emerie had snapped and apparently that meant that Rhys was now waiting for Azriel to have a meltdown.

Which he wasn't going to have, thank you very much.

He could think that how Mor had treated him had been utterly unfair...and he could still wish her nothing but the best.

The only thing that he had wished for had been a single conversation with his friend. But she didn't seem to want to have that and so Azriel hadn't pushed. Maybe it was better that way.

It was better that way, he was sure of that. The…closeness they had once shared was gone. Maybe forever. But he was more or less alright with that.

They could all leave him in peace and he would do the same for them.

He made that calculation without Cassian, who came bounding into the training ring with all the energy that Azriel was never quite sure where his brother got it from.

He had barely even put down his spear that Cassian bounded into the training rings, his face split into a broad grin. It was clear that his…morning activities with Nesta had been enjoyable as usual. 

“There you are,” Cassian said with a boisterous grin, clearly not noticing the rather sour mood that Azriel was in. “You look....surprisingly well rested," Cassian said, cocking his head to the side.

“I slept well,” Azriel answered simply, pointedly avoiding eye contact with his brother. He knew damn well what Cassian was going to be asking. 

“You slept well,” Cassian repeated, drawing out every word and making it clear that he was not going to let that go. “Care to specify where?” He asked point blank and Azriel’s jaw tensed. 

Azriel could not suppress the low growl that came from him at that. He was not in the mood to be teased by his brother. And he was also not in the mood to listen to another innuendo-filled conversation about Cassian and Nesta’s sex life. 

“Not one word about that,” he told his brother firmly and Cassian just laughed. 

“Oh come one.” He drawled. “I have to get my fun somewhere. Everyone else is mated already. I have to bother someone!” 

It wasn't supposed to hurt him. He didn't think so. But it still did. It cut. Sharp and deep.

The words cut deep, much deeper than Azriel would have wanted to admit. His jaw tensed and his hand clenched around the spear so hard that it might have creaked. He knew it was a joke…but it didn’t change the fact that it had stung. 

And Cassian didn't seem to notice that at all. "Come on, give me details!"

“There are no details to be given,” Azriel said simply, his voice carefully neutral. “Just because I am not spending the night and listening to the two of you going at it like rabbits, does not mean I have someone in my bedroom.” The words were harsher than he had intended. 

“Don’t tell me you do it in some grimy back alley with a random wench?” His brother teased him and Azriel’s temper flared. The Shadows curled and snarled around him, his temper snapping. 

“I would thank you for not speaking about females that way, and no I am not ‘doing it in a back alley’”, he retorted with a low growl in his voice.  “You should stop talking before you piss me off,” he warned his brother through gritted teeth.  It took all his willpower to make sure that no shadows lashed out. This was Cassian. His brother. 

“Whoa whoa whoa,” Cassian raised his hands, clearly seeing how his words had affected his brother. “I was only teasing. You can be so damn tense about some things. You need to relax,” he said and Azriel had to resist the very real urge to throttle him. 

[boolger]

A lapdog at a farm - chapter 2

<-former chapter ~ AO3 link ~ next chapter-> I will block any ageless blogs. Call of duty. Explicit, 18+, minors do not interact. read the tags. wc: 6181.

Farmer!John Price x Hybrid!Reader, hybrid! Kyle Gaz Garrick x hybrid! Johnny Soap MacTavish x hybrid! Simon Ghost, John Price x Nikolai.

tags: Rape/non-con elements, dub-con, dog!hybrid!people being kept as pets, alternative universe - farm, dark, farmer!John Price, working-dogs, punishments, mating cycles/rut/heat (no omegaverse), the dove isn't dead but its dying, reader is a brat, knotting, animal tails and ears, mentions of trauma, violence, angst, hurt/comfort, collars, rough sex, breeding kink, biting, threesome, foursome, everyone is fucking your honor, enemies to lovers, chubby reader, reader has a pussy

Author's note: reminder that reader is kinda a bitch at some points, thinking mean, unjustified things about our 141 once in a while. Unreliable narrators, my sinner. Apologies for any grammatical errors , the bad russian and such. So uh, this got waaay longer than intended so here you go. It will be a couple of days before the next chapter, so enjoy this snack for u all, my sinners.

chapter 2: Delivery from the Hybrid's Den!

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

“I have a friend coming over for a while,” John softly said next morning, hand resting on your head, fingers stroking your long ears now and again,, “to help us with getting the boys settled.”

You were on the floor, half way beneath the kitchen table, snuggled up against Price’s leg, feeling much more needy, knowing the ‘boys’ as your owner called them, would be delivered later today or tomorrow. They needed to be chipped and Price had asked for a full health check from his vet, as well as vaccinations and dental care. John was a caring owner; the mere fact that he did this from the get go was proof of that. He had done the same when getting you, made sure that any recent wounds or scarring were taken care of - getting your teeth fixed and your nails checked.

You didn’t have much of your fangs left when he got you; your earlier owners had taken those, the memories still haunting you once in a while. They had done it without anesthesia, not even by professionals. Same with your claws, that wasn’t beneath your nails anymore, thanks to former owners as well. Price had gotten the wounds cleaned and fixed up; they had almost grown closed by now. For most of the time that you lived with John, he had made sure your nails were always done nicely, however you wanted them.

John was a good master. You loved him, more than you knew you should, desperate for his attention, acknowledgment and praise. You didn’t want to share him, not with these hounds he had decided to get…

… not with this apparent friend.

You didn’t answer with anything but a displeased sound, tightening your grip on Price’s pants; when he offered you another piece of sausage you were quick to eat it, licking at his fingers while he chuckled. For a moment your tail wagged, eating the food and pressing against his hand.

He couldn’t be serious - abruptly changing so many things? and you were just supposed to accept it? Finally, you replied.

“Do I know your friend?” You didn’t bother to seem excited in any way, your skepticism seeping into your voice like poison. Price took another sip of his tea, not commenting on it.

“You’ve met him before but it’s been years. First year I had you, I reckon. Remember Nikolai?” 

Nikolai. Nikolai. Different faces flashed for your eyes, trying to pinpoint who you had met that bore that name. 

“No,” you finally admitted.

“Can’t blame you, lass. You were a little mess when you met him.”

You let out a huff at his words, embarrassment making your toes curl. It was true, your mind was muddled when it came to the first half year or so together with Price. You had been wary of every single person, desperately acting out and having to wear a muzzle, slowly getting used to the gentleness and rules of John. How he was fair and didn’t change his rules, didn’t punish you without reason.

You heard the front door open, ears peeking up a little, a small bark leaving you on instinct.

“‘Morning,” Laswell called out, making you settle again with a huff. While Laswell was strict and sometimes a meanie, she wasn’t a threat. Only to you and John’s private time.

“Good morning,” John called out, “I’ve made coffee.”

“Ugh if I wasn’t a lesbian I would marry you,” Kate groaned happily, by now so comfortable with John that she simply moved to take a cup in the cupboard, helping herself to the coffee and some food. They had known each other when younger, that was all you knew. Their stories always changed when you asked.

“Morning puppy,” she greeted, leaning over to give you a small pat that you leaned into, tail wagging once more, “are you going to misbehave again today?”

“Hopefully not,” John hummed, picking up his tea cup once more, “Nikolai is arriving in a couple of hours.”

“Ah, your old crush,” Laswell mused happily as she sat down across the table, once again making you wonder how long they had known each other, “going to pull yourself together this time?”

Wait. Crush… crush? Your head whipped up to look at your owner and oh fucking hell, John fucking Price was blushing. You huffed, clearly not pleased at all with this new knowledge.

Wonderful, wasn’t that just fucking wonderful? Now he was going to abandon you fully, to run around being a lovesick puppy and playing with the new hybrids.

“Don’t tease me,” John answered, clearly embarrassed, a rare sight indeed, “that’s none of your business.”

Kate just laughed. You let out a grumble, trying to snuggle even closer to Price, practically clinging to his leg by now. Price returned his hand to your head, petting you once more, looking down at you. You returned his gaze, doing your best puppy eyes, letting out a little whine. He smiled at you, his other hand scratching you beneath your chin.

“It’s been years,” he mused and you were pretty sure that he wasn’t even talking to you, “he had to return to Russia. His mother passed away.”

Russia? A memory appeared in your mind. A small party. Champagne, treats. Praise from Price’s friends and colleagues, attention and love that you had basked in. Other hybrids that sent you longing and lustful looks. A tall, broad man with a loud laugh and a strong accent. Wearing a gold chain. Long hair, rough hands when he scratched you. He would almost make your owner shy with his teasing but he would shower you in love.

“Did I meet him at a party once?” You asked, “big guy, strong accent ? Wearing a gold chain?”

John laughed, “yes, that would indeed be Nikolai.”

Huh. It was not much you could remember about him. You remembered liking him, but despite that, you weren’t really interested in him getting here.

“He is going to help with Soap, Ghost and Gaz,” John then said, almost as if to convince himself that was why he was here. You rolled your eyes at their names. Not that you had any say, you were usually just called different pet names, but you no longer bore the name your mother had once given you. It wasn’t unusual for pets to get their names changed with every new owner. Your legal hybrid name, with John, was Daisy, even though the man rarely ever called you that. He called you so many other names, Princess, Darling, Sweetheart, Birdie and so on. But apparently he had decided not to change these working dogs’ names.

“Sure,” Kate answered with amusement in her voice, taking another sip of the coffee before adding, “whatever you say.”

Price didn’t answer with anything but an annoyed grumble.

“Those are stupid names,” you muttered. A sharp tug on your ear made you yelp, one of your hands grabbing onto his wrist to get him to let go of your furry ear. 

“Be nice, Princess. You’re going to behave, am I understood?” You didn’t meet his eyes, a little whine merely escaped from you.

“She just needs to be shown her place,” Laswell carefully said, John not letting go of your ear, much to your dismay, but he didn’t tug on it - just kept it there as a warning, “maybe they’re better at that.”

“Hopefully they’ll be better at it than me,” he muttered and you whined - the grip didn’t loosen and he didn’t look down at you.

“Nikolai is going to help with that too?” 

“He had ideas, at least.”

Fucking wonderful.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Nikolai was the first of the four men that you already hated, to arrive. 

You stayed inside the house, watching John appear from one of the stables, almost lighting up at the sight of the man who exited the car.

He still looked like the old memory you had of him; big, long black hair and a grin on his face. He was taller than John but not by much, Almost seeming completely opposite to your owner. While John wore working clothes, a grey T-shirt beneath his blue flannel, dirt on his pants, Nikolai was wearing a pair of blue jeans, white T-shirt and leather jacket.

Even inside the house, you could hear the booming man that was Nikolai - he greeted your owner with a loud “John!”, before hugging him, even spinning him around. You couldn’t help but stare; John was far from small but the other man had swung him around like he had been a teenage girl. 

John was blushing like one too. The sight made you curious - just like you wondered how he and Kate met, you wondered how this Nikolai met your owner.

You couldn’t help but wag your tail at how happy they looked. Despite how you hated the idea of the man staying here, even just for a little while, you liked seeing John happy like this.

Then two pairs of eyes suddenly looked directly into the window, both staring at you. It made your ears tip back a little. Your tail kept wagging, eating up the attention. 

When they moved, you moved too - rushing towards the entrance, stopping in the doorframe to the living room. 

“My my, if it isn’t the famous puppy,” Nikolai mused, his Russian accent strong, eyes almost twinkling as he looked you up and down, “up to trouble, da?”

You huffed, crossing your arms, though you felt your tail betray you by wagging a little, “I’m never up to trouble.”

Both of the men laughed, making you growl a little. 

“Unruly - just like last time I met you!” Nikolai mused, looking over at John by his side, “you gave up on training?”

John shook his head, “don’t even get me started, mate.”

“You told enough over phone,” Nikolai answered, waving his hand at John while pushing his shoes off with his feet.

Ah. So he had talked about you with Nikolai already? The fact made you scrunch your nose a little. Maybe Nikolai was just as stupid as John when it came to realizing why you were upset.

Nikolai stepped into your personal sphere with no warning, almost backing you up against the door frame, making you panic and growl a little. Tail no longer wagging - you could see John tense up in the corner of your eye, but you were too distracted by the stranger.

“Nik—“

A part of you expected him to hit you - you had met plenty of strangers with your former owners, who didn’t even let you sniff their hand or anything. Some hurting you and —

He offered his hand. It didn’t hit you, but raised to your nose instead. You squinted at him, before taking a couple of sniffs, still not quite sure what to make of him.

“Don’t like you,” you growled in warning, showing your teeth a little, not even attempting to be polite. 

“You don’t like farm life yet, puppy?” He asked, tipping his head to the side, voice demeaning, stupid smile still on his face. You wanted to slap it off his face. “Stupid little puppy.”

Instead you chomped down on his hand, Price instantly scolding out your name, moving to drag you away. But Nikolai didn’t even flinch - didn't move besides laughing again. 

It made both you and John confused.

“If you want to hurt me, you would have to bite harder, Princess,” Nikolai crooned, “now let go.”

You wanted to piss in his shoes and rip his socks to pieces. Maybe scratch up that leather jacket of his. Yet you found yourself letting go of him, your teeth barely even having made a dent in his skin.

“Get your ass into your room,” John hissed, a redness in his skin that you weren’t sure came from embarrassment or anger from your action.

“No harm done, John,” Nikolai laughed; he scratched you behind your right ear, just a tad to the left and it was like your brain melted for a couple of seconds, your body reacted on its own, tail wagging and right leg moving as well, “she just attempt to be dangerous no?”

John let out a small sound that you weren’t sure  what to make of before he grabbed you by the collar and dragged you away from Nikolai, “and that’s the kind of behaviour I don’t want.”

“He was being mean,” you whined in self defense, unable to not follow the hand dragging you into the living room, “he almost dared me to!”

Perhaps an overstatement, but you already knew what was going to happen the moment that Price pushed you over the armrest of the couch, “I bit him to defend myself!”

“You will not, and I repeat myself, not bite my guests,” he pulled up your skirt and down your panties with such a quick movement that you didn’t get to point out that you didn’t care, one hand grabbing your tail; his other hand collided with your ass cheeks, once, twice and then a third time, before he snapped out, “got it?”

A defiant bark left you, because while you knew it was bad behavior, you also wanted to prove that you weren’t afraid of this Nikolai. You twisted a little, knowing your ass and pussy was basically on display for both men. 

The grip on your tail tightened making you cringe with pain, jaw tensing.

“Apologise.”

You shook your head in defiance, ears hitting your face. Price leant over you a little, hissing out, “I would advise you to apologize, princess. Now.”

A part of you knew he was upset because he liked Nikolai. If he actually had feelings for him, as Kate had pointed out and several things pointed towards, you knew he wouldn’t like being embarrassed too much. Your ass still stung a little.

You were the actual victim here, weren’t you? It wasn’t your fault he decided to change everything you loved and then accept that he had his lost love over, who immediately tried to push your buttons.

“‘m sorry,” you mumbled after two seconds.

“Louder.” John demanded, straightening up, so that you were no longer hidden.

"I'm sorry."

There was silence for a moment - then the sound of a lighter and as you dared to glance over at the bigger man, who was leaning against the door frame, you saw him staring right back at you, a lit cigarette now between his lips.

“Is okay, Lapochka.” He said, stupid smile still on his face.

With that John finally let go off your tail, pulling up your underwear and your skirt down, ignoring your whine. He didn’t even touch your pussy! Didn’t even give you some love!

You pouted as you looked over at them, sliding down from the armrest of the couch, hands going beneath your skirt to rest against your warm skin on your cheeks.

“Sorry Nik,” John once again apologized - as if it was him who John had just spanked! The audacity! You let out a little displeased bark.

“She usually doesn’t bite people,” he continued as he ushered Nikolai as if you weren’t right there, needing love and attention.

“Is okay,” Nikolai answered with a shrug, casting one last glance over at you, smirking for just a second, “some of it was my fault - wanted to see what she would do.”

Asshole.

“Room, princess - now.”

“But he literally ju—“

“I said now.”

“You’re being so fucking mea—“

“Crate then.”

“I’m going, I’m going.” You might have slammed the door to your room, growling as you plopped down on your big fuzzy dog bed. 

It was about 30 minutes later than you dared to wander from the room to the kitchen again, standing in the doorway, watching the two men talk. Eyes moved to watch you again, as you whined and got on your knees. crawling to the two men, shamefully settling between Price’s legs on your knees - tail carefully wagging, sending your owner a pitiful glance.

“‘m sorry,” you whimpered, knowing John was easy to sweeten up, “‘m sorry, sir.”

A hand moved down to scratch you, though it wasn’t John’s-  you carefully licked his hand, a pleased rumble leaving the guest.

“Smart one,” he muttered, giving your cheek a little pinch, “knows how to be sweet, da?”

“Always,” John answered, looking down at you with his usual loving eyes, “soft lass is hard  to stay mad at.”

“Perhaps you need some more company,” Nikolai pointed out, “I worked with military pets before, they’re much different than you, milaya.”

“We don’t need them,” you whined, having no idea what Nikolai had just called you, “John will forget about me, will be too busy, he –”

John’s foot ever so gently pushed against your stomach, “don’t start that again.”

“Just insecure,” Nikolai suggested, making you huff.

“Am not,” you argued, but you still nuzzled closer to John, starting to move your hands to his inner thighs, moving to look up the best you could, looking from under the edge of the table, sweetening your voice a little, “It’s just a mistake, that’s all.”

“Spoiled, that’s what you are, darling,” John pointed out, but he still reached out to gently pat your head, “however, the boys will be here in a couple of hours and there is nothing you can do about it.”

You whined pitifully at his words, upset that your clear dissatisfaction with them joining the farm wasn’t clear. It was like John didn’t want to realize at all that he didn’t need to stay out on this farm. He needed to go back to the city, to the fancy penthouse apartment, to the parties that lasted out to the late hours of the night, where you could gossip with all the other hybrids.

“Milaya,” Nikolai repeated again, rustling with something in his jacket that hung over the back of the chair he was currently sitting on, pulling a little package from it. You watched curiously, though trying to seem disinterested. That was until he opened it and the most wonderful, mouthwatering scent you had smelled in a while appeared and you instantly moved from between John’s legs to Nikolai’s, making your owner chuckle.

The piece of jerky looking meat that Nikolai held in between his thumb and pointer finger, looked simple but oh the smell of it made it known that it was good.

“You behave and let us look through papers now, da?” 

“Yes,” you said, unable to look away or stop your tail from wagging, “I’ll behave.” 

The moment Nikolai offered you the piece, you were on it, barely missing his fingers with your teeth as you stole it from his grip. Nikolai was chuckling, putting the bag back into his jacket, while you chewed, a pleased moan leaving you as you settled beneath the table. 

Hopefully these mutts would prove themselves too difficult - so that John would send them away again. You would happily wave goodbye to them. 

With the sweet aftertaste of the meat in your mouth and their soft voices discussing fences, you closed your eyes.

You weren’t going to help with the pack settling in - that was for sure.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

You barely got used to your owner’s crush, before there were once again new things happening. Kate appeared, greeting Nikolai like an old friend as well. You hadn’t figured out much about the man, other than he had worked with a lot of hybrids throughout the years. And with helicopters. However that all fit together, you didn’t know… didn’t really care.

The big truck that arrived a couple of hours later, stood out against the farm houses; a colorful logo was painted on the otherwise steel gray vehicle.

THE HYBRID’S DEN! helping owners find their perfect hybrid pet since 1960!

You remembered seeing their logos everywhere when you were sold to the auction, years ago. The auction houses and facilities had often felt like an intermission from your former life to your new; never knowing what was going to happen, treated with the minimal care, but kept healthy enough for the auctions. 

The staff wore the colorful logo on their black uniforms, exciting the truck a few moments later. You almost wanted to tell them to ‘get the fuck back into that truck and drive off’ again, but you figured it wouldn’t result in them actually doing so.

You kept your distance, standing on the steps of the front door - strategically keeping Nikolai between you and the closed metal crates that were inside the truck. There were nothing more than a few air holes in the boxes, from where some different sounds appeared. Barks and a growl or two, though they all sounded a little slurred. Nikolai moved, giving you a better look at them, as he joined John who was nodding along to some of the information, while looking through and signing some papers. Though you were mostly distracted by the crates, you could hear some of their conversation, catching words like sedated, muzzles, stressed. Your own trip hadn’t been nice either but a part of you wanted to point out to your owner that this only proved your point of this being a bad idea.

Some of the auction workers helped move the crates to one of the bigger empty sheds that Price had apparently been renovating without your knowledge. So apparently not so empty any longer. Not that it had been hard to do that, you ignored most of the different renovating and building jobs that both John and the helpers did.

Still… he could have told you. God, did your master tell you nothing anymore? It didn’t really help your mood, your growing annoyance clearly amusing for Nikolai if his smiles back at you were anything to go by.

Despite your repeated frustration with this entire situation and these new hybrids’ mere existence, you followed along inside the shed. It was nice… Isolated, with a tiny bathroom, an area padded with mattresses, which was clearly for them to sleep together, pillows, blankets… you wanted that too. Sure, you had loads, but this only made you want more, want more from Price, so that he could prove he still loved you. 

There was a radiator, several windows, lamps and electricity outlets. You scrunch your nose with displeasure. They didn’t deserve that. At least they weren’t inside the main house. 

There was a little notch in the other corner opposite the bed area, almost like a tiny expansion, another door next to it; it was almost like a small horse stall - a deep layer of hay covered the floor. You didn’t even step into the place, but you knew the hay would itch.

You wanted it. Not the itching of the hay, but the entire place, simply for the sake of having it, so that they couldn’t. Speaking of them, you watched from the main entrance as the metal boxes were opened.

The Belgian malinois and German Shepherd mix was the first one to stumble out of the box; he fell two steps later, directly into the hay, a deep sigh leaving him, eyes darting around. You could barely see him from the amount of people inside the stall. 

“It’s alright, Gaz,” Price comforted, while you stayed in the door, keeping his distance to the hybrid, “You’re okay, boy.”

Gaz didn’t answer, just panted a little, ears tipped backwards - his eyes looked a little blown from what you could see.

“When will the sedatives wear off?” Laswell asked one of the workers, but you didn’t look at them, eyes instead at the other hybrid. 

When you had arrived, you had been scared and angry, drugged as well. But you had been alone. While you grew up with your parents, in a nice enough place, you hadn’t seen them for years - and while you had befriended a lot of other hybrids throughout the years, you had never been a part of a “pack”. You were alone — but this Gaz wasn’t and a part of you envied him, even for that.

“In an hour or two,” the worker replied, pulling you from your deeper thoughts, “they weren’t too happy to settle down before we left. It was necessary.”

A small bark left the man in the hay. It was answered by the two other hybrids, who still hadn’t come out of their respective boxes. Nikolai gently tapped on the top of one of the boxes with a knuckle.

“Come join your friend,” the Russian suggested, voice not as loud as earlier.

A moment later the border collie mix, Soap, crawled out of his box, eyes instantly on Gaz, letting himself lay halfway on top of the other. A little growl leaving him, muffled from behind the mask. Not even a second later, Ghost got out of the last crate. The Great Pyrenees almost got on his legs, growling despite the muzzle and swaying from the drugs.

You watched the staff pull back the metal boxes, letting the hybrids get some space. Ghost didn’t stay on his legs for too long, eventually sitting down next to his pack mates, the lower half of his face hidden from view as he looked around the shed.

His gaze stopped at you; you were unable to sense the reaction from seeing you again, if there even was any.

“We’ll let you have some minutes, okay? Then we’ll take the muzzles off.” John gently offered, pulling the giant from the moment, so that he looked away, giving Price a small nod. Your owner was at the edge of the hay filled area but he didn’t step into it.

You stepped back, letting the staff members from the auction pull away the boxes, Laswell and another farm worker helping them. Nikolai looked from the pack, then over his shoulder at you, barely even trying to hide a smile.

Then he winked. You sent him an unimpressed look back, tipping your chin up a little, looking away from the three hybrids in the hay, pretending you weren’t curious about them.

Some more rustling in the hay and then a half croaked, “mah held hurts,” left Soap, voice a little slurred - you couldn’t help but look over at him. His accent was weird. His ears were tipped down, some hay already stuck in his hair. With the pathetic look on his face you didn’t understand how he was supposed to be a big bad soldier.

You weren’t being petty at all.

“It’s the sedatives,” John calmly answered the hybrid, who let out a big breath from behind the muzzle.

“If I take the muzzle off, will you behave?”

“We have water for you,” Nikolai added, keeping his distance - you kept him in between you and the dogs, not risking anything. You trusted the men to be able to defend themselves. But with no claws or fangs, you weren’t a fighter - more a runner. Even if you didn’t like running.

The two muzzled ones, Soap and Ghost, sent each other a look - but it was Gaz, half hidden beneath Soap, who let out a tired “please.”

Ghost gave a small nod then. John stepped into the hay, unhurried as to not spook them, and it was Ghost who tipped his head down first to let Price open the lock with a small key. The moment he was free, he smacked his cracked and dry looking lips. 

Clearly, the man had never heard of chapstick.

Though, much more apparent, where the colony of scars on his lower half of the face. Trailing from around the lips, one over the nose as well - cheeks and chin. As he smacked his lips, you saw he had lost a fang in the bottom of his mouth. It wasn’t just sanded down like yours, the tooth was fully missing.

Price repeated the action with Soap, the hybrid instantly opening his mouth wide with a yawn, his jaw even making a popping wound.

Nikolai appeared with three bottles of water from a little cooler in the shed - you didn’t have your own cooler, which meant you would be demanding one… not that you needed it but still — giving the hybrids each one, that was always immediately opened. Gaz pushed Soap away and sat up too, while John backed away.

“My name is John Price -we met shortly at the auction. I’m the owner of the farm and you will all answer to me. Got it?”

“Yes sir.” For a moment you were impressed with the three hybrids’ synchronized answers. Only a short moment however. They were probably just beasts trained to answer like that. Yeah, yeah, you could do that too, if you wanted. But you didn’t.

“This is Nikolai, my friend, he will stay with me for a while, helping you all to settle in properly. You will follow his orders too - as well as a mean looking woman, Kate Laswell, who will appear at some point.” Humour tipped into the last part making Soap snort and Gaz give out a half-slurred giggle, while Ghost just let out a grunt.

“And this,” Price suddenly turned over to you, looking a little amused from the distance you kept between all of them, “is my pet, Daisy.” 

“Well hellooo, bonnie lass,” Soap said, his tail immediately wagging, grinning at you, as he slurred, “aren’t ye a sight for sore eyes.”

Nikolai and John dared to laugh at his words, his rather pathetic attempt at being charming, while you growled, watching Soap get an elbow in the side from Gaz, while Simon just stared, almost differently than the scot, like a hungry beast. If you were fully inside the shed, you might be able to smell if they were turned on. Disgusting. 

“Come’ere, sweetheart,” John crooned, clearly pleased with the reactions from the men, while you scrunch your nose, tipping your chin up a little - giving it a shake to reject the command.

“Do not be like that, milaya,” Nikolai suggested, “thought you were going to behave, no?”

You just growled a little again, unable to help your tail go between your legs a little; you didn’t really want to be spanked again, but you didn’t really want to become acquainted with these hybrids either.

“My princess isn’t too pleased with you lot being here,” John calmly explained without taking his eyes off you - they were still all staring at you - as John raised a hand, making a ‘come-hither’ motion that had you swallowing some spit, “but she isn’t going to chase away any wolves, are ye, pet?”

You huffed, crossing your arms before stepping inside the shed. The scent in there was nice and clean, even with the vague scent of the newcomers, and you walked to John, stopping halfway hidden by him.

However, as John’s arm snaked around your soft waist in a strong grip, you whimpered as you were pulled forward a little, unable to hide behind him. Both Gaz and Soap were wagging their tails at you, while you tried ignoring the scent of the room the best you can.

“I’m expecting you all to get along - and not hurt each other too badly, understood?”

While the others answered in agreement you just hid your face in his shoulder, twisting a little in his grip.

“No playin’ too rough,” Nikolai added, “Puppy isn’t used to other hybrids.”

“I am!” you snapped, “Just not…”

The shed was quiet for a moment as you mulled over your next words. What to call them. Military dogs. Strays. Mutts, un –

“Not what?” Nikolai almost seemed entertained by your declaration and you looked away, before finally mumbling.

“... working dogs.”

Simon huffed. You shot him a sharp look that he didn’t really seem to be affected by, in any way.

“I’m sure you all will get along,” John just mused, before looking down at his watch, “A certain princess has become too bored now we’re no longer in the city -” he ignored your mutter of ‘have not’, “- and I can’t entertain her all the time. Mentally or sexually.” 

You whined with embarrassment, a little angry growl seeping into it, but Price didn’t really react, barely moved as you twisted in his grip, ignoring the grin of the several males in the house. 

“ - Now, I will leave you three to get acclimated a little. But, there are a couple of rules that I expect you all to follow, if not there will be punishments.”

Synchronized nods. You still twisted, digging your fingers into his arm to no avail - then a hand snagged onto your collar from behind, choking you shortly as you were pulled back, Nikolai pressing against your back. Now free, Price pointed to a little map over the area, that you hadn’t noticed on the wall.

“Your jobs will essentially be to help keep the place safe. We have had problems with wolves and foxes, and so has the neighbors, since there lives a bunch in the area. You three will help keeping them away and Soap will help around my sheeps and goats in particular, given you’re a herding dog–”

Soap nodded, tail wagging, all three dogs staring at the map intensely.

“- I will find other things for the two of you to help with as well, but your main focus will be on keeping the animals - and the rest of us - safe. One of the neighbors got some horses stolen not too long ago. I would like to avoid that as well.”

You didn’t even know that. What you did know, however, was the heat of Nikolai’s body behind you, keeping you close and tethered so that you couldn’t run off.

“Most of the wildlife will go away if intimidated, but at times you might need to attack them. I am not going to give you any firearms yet though,” John looked over at them, his voice  firmer than you usually heard it, “That will come along the way, if needed. We can discuss other weapons later on.”

The mere idea of John giving them any kinds of weapon made you want to throw up - or throw a fit. Had he gone fuckin’ mad?? giving them guns? They were going to shoot everyone, going to kill John and you. You really didn’t want to die.

“My farm includes these - and these fields. You will not and I repeat not, leave my land without a valid reason. There will be punishments if you do - you will all be given collars like another certain puppy–” all eyes watched you for a moment and though, you wanted to hide  your face in your hands, you didn’t, merely crossed your arms, ignoring the low laughter from Nikolai behind you, “that are fitted with trackers, so I will know if you do.”

Great. So hoping for them to run off wasn’t a possibility for now.

“Biting or attacking my staff in any way will result in severe punishments. You will lose privileges if you don’t do as told, without a valid reason. Is that understood?”

“Yessir.” 

“Good boys. Now, these upcoming days you will most likely be following me or Laswell around, while we get you in on all these. All dinners will be eaten in the main house and you will be given keys once I get them made one of these upcoming days. I will give you a couple of hours now –” Price looked down at his wrist watch, “Then call you in, an hour or two before dinner, so that you all can shower. Any injuries, allergies or anything that the Hybrids’ Den didn’t write down, that I need to know?”

They all shook their heads, behaving like synchronized swimmers in your opinion. 

“Good. You’re all free to relax here or explore the farm if you wish so, when the drugs wear off.” 

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

As you entered the farm house, you shrugged off your jacket and abandoned your shoes in the entrance, not caring to clean up after you, ignoring John’s irked huff.

“Insane!” you declared, walking further into the house, “You’ve gone insane! You’re all going to forget about me and those horny knotted mutts will be all up in my business!”

You flopped down on the couch, face first, continuing your ranting into the fabric.

“I might as well barricade myself inside my room - Because I dont have a tiny house!! but guns! SURE ! give them guns!” Your voice was muffled, but you were, perhaps a tad dramatically, loud in your ranting. You could just make out whispering between the two men but you didn’t care… not until you were forced to, quite literally.

“Little puppy,” Nikolai’s accent was heavy - his body even heavier as he settled on the back of your thighs, a fist coming to rest next to your head, that kept his full body weight from you, “Throwing a fit again, da?” 

You could feel the slight bulge against your fat ass, making you swallow - and tail wag, hitting Nikolai against the thighs, making the man chuckle. John as well, who settled down with a cigar in one of the arm chairs opposite the couch. You didn’t even need to look to know that he watched as Nikolai tugged at your skirt.

[cimmanonrowl]

Don’t Blame Me pt.2

Part One | Masterlist

The moment you laid eyes on SSA Aaron Hotchner, you just know that man will be yours one way or another— no matter what it takes. And if Penelope Garcia was on your trail trying to track you down, no one would blame you for crossing all the lines just to get a split second of Aaron Hotchner’s undivided attention.

Pairing: aaron hotchner x stalker!reader

Theme: smut heaven

Contents: age gap, dom!aaron, unprotected rough sex, messy blowjob, gagging, spitting, daddy kink, degradation, filming, breeding, powerplay: boss/subordinate relationship, stalking, obsessive behaviour.

Something was wrong.

Judging from the look of surprise in their eyes as you stepped inside Garcia’s office, you knew immediately that something had happened.

You initially pushed the door open with a smile, only to find that Garcia wasn’t alone— unlike the past few weeks that you’ve been visiting her. There is a box of freshly baked croissants cradled in your arms as you wander your gaze around the room. Reid and Morgan are there too, huddled together around her desk, now staring back at you as you stand motionless by the doorway.

“Good morning,” you greeted with a hesitant smile, holding up the box of croissants like an offering. “I didn’t know you guys would be here. I brought breakfast for Pen.”

Garcia looked up from her computer upon hearing what you said, her eyes lighting up with excitement. “Oh, you wonderful, gorgeous human being! I could never say no to that.”

You mirrored her adoring smile and invited yourself inside. As you handed Morgan the box of warm croissants— which he and Garcia quickly opened and bantered about— you caught Reid following your movements with subtlety. You noticed that, of course. As you always do with every hint of suspicion from anyone. So you perked your eyebrows to feign innocence, feeling a rush of blood cursing through your veins.

His eyes traveled to the croissant box and smiled briefly at you. “Thanks. We could actually use a break.”

“Break from what? It’s only 8 in the morning…”

Morgan nodded with a quiet hum, leaning against Garcia’s desk as he chewed on his food. “We were just talking about Hotch,” his voice tinged with worry as he explained. “He’s been acting really weird lately.”

“Weird? Why?”

Just like that, you knew the nagging feeling was right.

Something has definitely happened.

“Yeah,” Garcia’s fingers never stopped their dance across the keyboard as she sipped her tea. “It’s the fourth time he’s changed his phone number in the past few weeks.”

Your heart skipped a beat, nearly choking you with your own saliva. Yet still, you maintained a facade of curiosity.

“Really? That’s strange…” you said in the best worried tone you could muster. “Any idea why? Did he tell you anything?”

Reid shook his head, his eyebrows furrowing in deep thought. “We think something might be bothering him, but he hasn’t said anything to us. You know, it’s unusual for him to be this closed off.”

You watched Morgan and Garcia nod in agreement.

“Whatever it is, it’s got him on edge. We’re worried about him. It’s like he’s dealing with something he can’t talk about...”

Garcia sighed. “Maybe we should talk to him,” she suggested hopefully, looking around at her friends with wide, expectant eyes. “Let him know that no matter what happens, no matter what’s bothering him, we’re always here for him.”

“Babygirl, he knows that already. And may I remind you that’s exactly what you just said to him last night on the elevator.”

“Well, it won’t hurt if we remind him again.”

“Girl, come on,” Morgan chuckled, the corner of his lips tugging to a lopsided grin. “Really?”

“Derek! You’re not taking this seriously!” Garcia exclaimed in frustration. “Hotch just changed his phone number. Again. Doesn’t that scare you at all?”

“Hey now, don’t be like that—”

“Well, we know him. He’ll talk to us once he feels like doing so,” Reid cut them off swiftly, his eyes focused on one of the screens of Garcia’s computer set, his eyebrows pulled together in a curious frown. “What are you doing, Garcia?”

“Oh, this? This is modern magic unfolding before you, boy wonder.”

“I told you to stop calling me–” Reid sighed in defeat, shaking his head. “Okay. What are those satellite photos for?”

“I’m tracking the activities of his last number.”

Your eyes widened a fraction, glancing around them in a slight panic you hoped could be seen as a look of curiosity.

“Is that legal?”

Garcia chuckled at your baffled expression. “Mon amour, if I do things legal do you think I will be hired by the FBI?”

Your lips twitched in the corner as you smiled at her.

“And what do you know so far, Garcia?” Reid leaned forward, his eyes squinting a little.

“Oh! Glad you asked, boy wonder. I know that... that he’d been receiving calls from three deactivated numbers.”

“Three?”

“I know right?” Garcia mumbled in agreement. “Maybe a group of cyber gangsters ganging up on him. What a bunch of losers! Look, these are different numbers. I’ll need to check in with cell service providers and ask.”

Reid shrugged, sighing as he leaned back on his seat. Then for some unknown reason, his eyes landed on you and you had to look away. You had to. While Morgan took a big bite of his croissant before speaking again, a shit-eating grin on his lips.

“We’ll leave it up to you then, gorgeous. We have to go.”

You swallowed thickly.

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate that, Pen. If there’s anyone who can do this thing, it’s you…” you forced out a smile, trying to appear supportive while a heavy weight nested in your chest.

“But do you?”

You whirled your head to where Reid was sitting, his doe-like eyes watching you carefully. The vein in your temple started pulsating at the insinuation of his simple question.

“D-do I what, Dr. Reid?”

“Appreciate it?”

“What? Of course, I do,” you said quickly, awkwardly, as you let out a surprised chuckle. “It’s good to know he has friends like you who care about him.”

The duality you’ve been playing started gnawing at you. To these people, you’re just a young technical analyst intern who craves mentorship from their star employee. Beneath, you’ve been the source of Aaron Hotchner’s distress and anxiety in the past month. You would’ve been embarrassed and ashamed as the severity of your action dawned on you... until you remembered how quickly Aaron read your messages and watched your video last night.

The one where you were bouncing like a cockdrunk bunny on a pink vibrating dildo, squirting multiple times until your legs gave up on their own, the taste of Aaron’s delicate name hanging from your lustful lips.

That night, as expected, sleep eluded you completely.

And for the first time, it’s not because you’re too occupied imagining how it would feel like having Aaron’s girthy cock pounding in and out of your desperate cunt.

The night grew deeper with silence, the only sound audible in your apartment is the steady ticking of the clock on the wall. You were lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, rest chased away by the worry that have taken root in your thoughts.

You can’t stop thinking about the conversation earlier in Garcia’s office. The way Reid’s eyes seemed to linger on you a moment too long– too intently for your own liking, the subtle but palpable tension in the air. Your heart pounded as you imagine Garcia, fingers flying over her keyboard, tracing the activities of Aaron’s old phone numbers.

If she finds out, if Garcia connects the dots…

Fuck.

Fuck.

“No,” you whispered to yourself, your voice trembling in the quiet room. “No one can ever take you away from me, Aaron.”

The thought of losing him, of being exposed, crumbled your logical thoughts. What will happen if you get caught? Will you be taken out of the internship program? Goddamnit. Of course, you will be. And no amount of political connection or bribery would save your reputation from this scandal.

You pictured Aaron’s face wistfully; the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he’s deep in thought, the way he commands the room with his presence. He’s everything to you, the love of your life, your reason for being. He’s the only man you can see your future with. And the idea of him slipping away, of him not caring about your existence, is unbearable. Dying would’ve been less painful.

You sat up in bed with your breaths coming in shallow gasps. The darkness of the room pressed in on you like the world was slowly caving in. You grab your phone from the nightstand, your fingers trembling as you scroll through the messages you’ve sent him. Each one is a piece of you, your body, a way to keep him close, to remind him that you’re always there.

For him.

For his pleasure.

For his needs.

For the taking.

“Reid’s suspicious,” you muttered to yourself, your mind replaying this morning’s events as vividly as you would’ve wanted. “He knows something. Fuck. He fucking knows. That fucking guy!”

You bolted up from your bed and started pacing the dimly lit room, your thoughts spiraling as you bit down on your nail. Seconds ticked and you could taste the faint trickle of blood on your tongue, feeling the way your teeth sank into the thin flesh nervously, over and over again.

If Garcia tracks the activities, if she cracks your location, if Reid digs deeper— everything could come crashing down. You’ve worked so hard to stay hidden, to keep your actions in the shadows. But now, you saw threats looming over your head. You knew those two wouldn’t rest until they saw you punished.

You know you were smart, you have always been. You kept one step ahead of everyone. But the fear, the obsession, it clouded your judgment. You’re afraid those only made it hard to think clearly.

“No one can ever take you away from me, Aaron,” you repeated to yourself, the words becoming a mantra in your head. “You’re mine. Only mine.”

You stopped by the open window, staring out at the city lights. The world outside seemed so distant, so little and so far removed from the thoughts inside your mind. You’ve always been so careful, so meticulous. You had to remind yourself that you did everything as you planned. You won’t be caught.

Not by FBI’s genius technical analyst.

Not even by fucking Spencer Reid.

No one.

The sky loomed dark and heavy when you woke up the next morning. Sipping on your hot coffee, you made your way down the hall, the sound of your stiletto hitting the floor creating soft click-clack noises. The office was already busy despite the early hours: several coffee machines and dispensers whirring, beeping fax machines, rustling of papers, and agents preparing for their duties.

But your thoughts remain fixated on Aaron Hotchner.

As you turned a corner, you almost bumped into another figure— JJ. She was walking briskly, a coat draped over her arm and a phone pressed to her ear. For a moment you wanted to scream at her for having you nearly spill your hot coffee on her, but quickly thought better of it. She’s one of Aaron’s friends. You have to be nice to her the way you were with everyone else.

“Oh, shit. Sorry— No, no. I need those files now. Yes, it’s urgent. Just make it happen,” her words spilled out in a rapid flow.

You quickly notice her expression is one of concern, eyes wide with urgency. She’s speaking quickly into the phone, her voice a hushed mix of panic and annoyance.

She gave you a strained smile.

“Hey, I need a favor,” she said, pulling the phone away from her ear for a moment. “Can you take this coat to Hotch? He’s about to leave with the team. I’d do it myself, but—” She gestures to the phone, her voice trailing off as she returns to her conversation.

You nodded eagerly, taking the coat from her. “Sure, I can do that.”

“Thank you,” JJ said, her attention already back on the call as she hurried toward the elevator, the urgency in her steps evident.

You turned and headed in the direction of the team’s meeting room, the coat heavy in your hands. As you walked, a wave of temptation washed over you like a plague— hearing whispers echoing inside your head tempting you to walk in the direction of your office instead, stuff the coat into your bag, or take a sniff in the middle of the fucking hallway.

You fought hard not to do any of that.

This is Aaron’s coat. You can feel the warmth of his presence left on the fabric, the faint scent of his cologne lingering like flowers in spring luring in the butterflies. The thought of holding something so personal, something that belongs to him, made your cunt clench in so much anticipation.

Fuck.

If only you could grind your wet pussy on this coat—

Jesus Christ. Who’s stopping you, anyway?

By the time you reached the conference room, the team was already gone. The room was empty and the only signs of their recent presence were the scattered documents and half-finished coffee cups on the table. Your heart sank as you realized you’d missed them, but the coat in your hands was a tantalizing alternative.

You glance outside the room, ensuring no one is watching, and then you bring the coat closer to your nose, inhaling deeply.

The scent is intoxicating; a blend of his cologne and the faint smell of something leather. It feels like a piece of him, something intimate and close. Your mind raced with the dirty fantasies in your head, the thrill of having something so personal in your possession.

The temptation to keep the coat was impossible to resist. Despite the risks, the potential consequences, you couldn’t bring yourself to let go of this moment.

You clutch the coat tighter, your heart pounding with intense exhilaration– so intense you could barely breathe. You know it’s dangerous, that if anyone finds out, it could unravel everything. But the need to feel closer to Aaron, to have a piece of him with you, overrides all sense of caution.

“I’ll bring it back,” you told yourself, a weak justification that does little to quell the guilt gnawing at you. “Just for a little while.”

With one last look around, you went back to your small office and slipped the coat into your bag, all while imagining all the fun you’d be having tonight. Fucking hell, you’re so wet already.

After a long, grueling day in the office, you finally made your way back to your apartment. Exhaustion and sleepiness weighed heavily on you, but an undercurrent of excitement pulses through your veins at the thought of having Aaron’s coat in your hands. It’s a small victory, a piece of him that you can hold onto... even just for tonight.

You unlocked your door languidly and stepped inside.

But as soon as you closed the door, a chill ran down your spine. Something feels off. The silence felt strained and heavy. And so you paused, scanning the dark room with growing unease. The usual order of your belongings seemed undisturbed, but you knew. You knew the small details that only you would notice.

“Hello?” you called out, taking slow and cautious steps.

Your heart raced as you moved further into the apartment. When you reached the living room, however, you stopped dead in your tracks. A shadowy figure is sitting on the single couch, watching you from the hallway. The dim light from the street outside casts eerie shadows, but you recognize the silhouette immediately.

“Aaron…” you whispered, your voice trembling.

You felt the anger exuding from him as he stood. His eyes are dark, piercing as they lock onto yours. “I’ve been waiting here for hours.”

A wave of terror crashes over you, unable to respond quickly.

“Aaron, I—”

He cut you off with just a step closer. “You really think we wouldn’t know? You think you’re that smart?”

Panic gripped you with the way his piercing gaze found your eyes, your mind racing for an escape.

“No, you don’t understand,” you pleaded, desperation seeping into your voice. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you, Aaron. I just—”

“Just what?” He snapped, his expression hardening. “You’ve been harassing me for a month. You invaded my privacy. I had to change my number several times because you won’t fucking listen.”

You took a step back, the walls closing in around you. The reality of being caught, of Aaron knowing the truth, of his anger being directed at you; it was suffocating.

“Aaron, please, sir… I didn’t mean for it to go this far. I just... I just wanted to be close to you.”

His eyes narrow, a mix of anger and disgust etched into his features. “You think this is about wanting to be close? What are you going to say next? That you’re in love with me?”

But you are.

Tears blurred your vision as you tried finding the right words, but nothing you say could change the truth. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I’m so sorry.”

Aaron takes another step forward, shaking his head. “It’s too late for apologies now, don’t you think?”

“Please, Aaron...” you begged in desperation, your voice barely audible. “Don’t turn me in. I’ll do anything— just don’t be mad at me. Don’t send me away, sir. Anythi—”

“Kneel.”

Your knees buckled with that, quickly following his order. With your hands intertwined and perched on your lap, you watched him silently as he took in your submissive position. All while your cunt clenched at the sight of him in front of you— so domineering and commanding. The anger in his eyes, the coldness in his voice, the fact that he was too big and too strong that he can toss you around and fuck you like a ragdoll if he wanted to.

You shut your legs tightly, creating a soft friction on your aching clit.

“Come here,” he ordered as he took his seat once again.

And so you did, eager and desperate as you scrambled on your knees, crawling to him.

You glanced up at Aaron with a shallow sigh, blinking almost innocently as you took your place in between his legs. Your hands were itching to touch but you didn’t want to anger him anymore. You have to be good. Remember, Aaron has to like you.

“You fucking slut,” He spat angrily, undoing his belt as he stared down at your trembling body. “Take off your clothes. I don’t want to see you wrapped in anything.”

Maybe it was his voice, or the predatory look on his face, or the fact that he’s the love of your life that made you so pliant to his commands. You had your dress shirt removed instantly, unbuttoning it with your shaking fingers. You are trembling with anticipation and fear. But the heat was pooling in your cunt as you reached for the zipper of your tight skirt.

You tossed your clothes to the side as you removed them, quickly reaching for the clasp of your white bra. “T-this too, d-daddy?”

“Stupid whore, what did I fucking say?”

You whimpered. “Y-yes, sir.”

His belt came undone as you finished unclasping your bra, placing the belt on the armchair. The cold should’ve seeped right through every pore of your skin but as soon as you saw Aaron unzip his pants, you knew your world was ending, and no cold could ever dampen the lust lurching at the pit of your stomach.

“Look at these...” There’s a dark glint of satisfaction in his eyes as he scanned your naked body. He pinched your nipple in a sharp, fleeting moment before slapping both of your tits.

In which you only moaned.

“C-can I...” you mumbled pathetically, your eyes directed at the growing bulge in his pants. “Touch, sir? Please. Can I touch you?”

His rough hands gripped your chin tightly, his eyes mocking when he said: “Beg.”

As if that would embarrass you.

You fucking waited for this.

You smiled softly at him, your voice as dewy as honey. “Please, please, daddy? Can I taste you? I’ll be good, daddy, I promise. I’ll make you feel so good…”

You reached for his hand, batting your eyelashes slowly— enticingly.

But Aaron Hotchner was a man hard to impress. You yelped when he roughly gripped your hair and forced you to crane your neck upward, warm tears flooding your eyes with the sting and the pain.

“Open your mouth.”

Quickly as you did, he spat on you. Twice– once in your mouth and once in your face, reaching your eyelashes and cheeks. Pleasured moans escaped your lips as you closed your eyes, relishing the feeling of his saliva on your skin.

You were never good with pain, but the moment his palm reached your cheek with constrained force, you felt the wetness in your neglected cunt drenching your inner thighs even more. You could feel your pussy clenching in desperation but you couldn’t bring yourself to focus on your own pleasure.

He slapped your cheek again, this time harder, his fingers still tangled in your hair.

“You wanted this, huh? This is what you want, you fucking whore?” He said tauntingly before he took out his leaking and girthy cock from his pants. “I’ll give you what you fucking want.”

You barely registered everything when he forced his length on your waiting lips, down to your throat. He started pounding on your mouth, guiding your head like you’re nothing but a mere fucktoy. You felt yourself splutter and gag as you relish the burn- the stretch of your mouth to accommodate his big cock, and the feeling of his tip hitting the back of your throat.

It was too much.

And too good you wish he won’t ever stop.

You tried your best to suck him, tears dripping down your cheeks while he continued ramming his cock in and out of your mouth.

“Open wide, baby. Come on... just like that... good girl.”

You nodded eagerly, feeling both of his hands gripping your head, keeping you in one place as he assaulted you with force. Tears were now streaming down your face in a steady flow, while Aaron groaned in the sight of you struggling to take in his length.

“D-daddy—” your voice broke into a sob as he pulled your hair harshly, a string of saliva connecting your lips and his wet, veiny cock.

Without warning, he spat on your face again, loving the way you moaned and closed your eyes while catching your breath.

“Thank y-you, daddy…” you mumbled dazedly, wrapping both your hand around his length and rubbing the wetness of his cock across your face. “Love this… love you…”

“Continue sucking, whore.”

You nodded quickly, frowning at the effort of welcoming his huge cock on your mouth, and confusion when you felt his belt wrapped around your nape. Just a few moments after, you felt the rough burn of leather on your skin, forcing your head to go back and forth as he pulled the belt and bucked his hips.

Your hands clawed on his clothed thighs as you tried pulling your head away from his cock, but the belt on your nape was restricting your movement. You had no other choice but to take it in, whimper, and claw on his thighs, on his arm, on his stomach. You feel so lightheaded you can barely think.

“Fucking hell, baby—” He pulled you away from his cock, his eyes wandering on your face. Your lipstick was smudged messily on your chin, your mascara running down your cheeks. “Look at this whore, didn’t you say you wanted that?”

You nodded weakly.

“Oh, you can’t speak now?” He laughed mockingly, slapping his hard cock on your face, chuckling at the distant look on your eyes. “Well, fucktoys don’t speak in the first place, anyway.”

You nodded again, whimpering as his fingers tangled in your hair.

“Is this what you were imagining all those times you’re fucking yourself in front of your camera?”

“Yes, y-yes, daddy…”

“And if I say I film this and show this to a jury, would you like that, huh?” He said in a whispery voice, caressing your cheek almost lovingly before slapping you with light force. “Huh, would you like that? Answer me, whore.”

“Yes! Yes, daddy. W-want them to s-see…” you rambled quickly. “Want them to see w-what slut I-I am for your cock…”

You were sure you never felt pleasure like this ever before. Your past boyfriends, your fingers, your sex toys. Nothing comes close to the feeling of Aaron’s cock pummelling in and out of your tight cunt, his fingers circling on your sensitive nub. Which he also said so; he’s never fucked a young and tight pussy like yours ever before.

That being whispered dirtily in your ear was enough to send you to your second orgasm.

Your body trembled as you reached your high, your knees buckling and trembling as you struggled to keep yourself standing. You were already on your tiptoes as Aaron continued fucking your cunt from behind, slapping your ass every now and then. Every time you’d clench around his cock, a growl would ramble low from his chest and do it all over again.

“So fucking tight–” He said breathlessly, his voice hoarse and raspy. “You’re making me feel so good, baby. Look at the camera in front, come on, baby.”

“Oh, my- g-god… daddy!” Your legs trembled again as you struggled to be on your tiptoes, your eyes fluttering close at the overstimulation.

Aaron was too tall and too big. The camera was set up in front of you, but with the intense pleasure, your vision was blurry with unshed tears; the pleasure so blinding your eyes crossed while your mouth hung open, saliva dripping down the side of your lips and to your neck. You looked so fucked out you don’t even know what’s happening around you.

“You like whoring over an older man’s cock, huh, baby?” He taunted as he pistoled his hips roughly. “Is this really why you wanted to join the Bureau? You wanted my big cock to ruin this tight cunt?”

You mumbled dumbly, hoping Aaron understood. He slapped your ass again, moaning at the feeling of your pussy clenching around his girth.

“Wanted to- wanted your cock to ruin me, d-daddy...”

“I’m close... you’re so warm and tight...” He rambled to himself, his chest heaving with effort. “I’m gonna cum inside this fucking pussy. Gonna mark you, baby. Fuck, you’re m-mine.”

“Yes! Yes! D-daddy, right there! P-please…” you squealed in pleasure, pushing yourself more on your tiptoes so he would hit the bundle of nerves again. “R-right there! Oh, Aaron!”

The sound of your high-pitched moans and his deep voice tangled together in the air. You rolled your eyes as tremors shook your body, feeling his warm cum painting your walls. He released too much cum you feel a portion of it fill your belly. All while his hips pounded your cunt with slow yet sharp trusts, his jaw tight as he craned his neck to the ceiling, his eyes closed.

“A-aaron–”

“Shut up, whore. I’m not fucking done,” He exclaimed loudly, hooking your waist only using his one arm before tossing you to the larger couch. “I’ll decide when will I be done fucking this cunt.”

I know you guys didn't ask to be tagged on the next part but I really appreciate the support for Part 1 so here we are! I hope you don't mind me tagging you!

And thank you everyone for the reblogs and likes. See you on the next ones!

Tags: @urbrazysimp @pastelpinkflowerlife @mrs-ssa-hotch @222hwilsss @roseydoesypoesy @cqsmowrld @dynavol @barbeddreams @everythinglizzy @aaronlovesava @starshinegarcia @downbad4reid @mega-kittyglitter-1

[writingoddess1125]

Morticia and Gomez Effect

Mihawk X FemReader

Since Mihawk is based off of Dracula (Duh) and his whole goth dilf attitude it would make sense he's Romanian 🇷🇴

Also I drank some wine 🍷 before this so enjoy!!

>>> Part 2

• Giving Mihawk's personality I don't think he is the type that finds his opposite attractive. No this man likes those dark mysterious women-

• Def has a More Gothic wife.

• Mihawk is not one to openly talk about his fine but doesn't hide it either. If someone points out the gold ring hanging by his cross he will say it's his wedding band-

• However when his wife is around, he is quite flirty. A smirk on his lips as he will wrap his hand around your waist, lay kisses on your hand or pepper a kiss to the side of your neck. Uncaring if the world sees

• You also can defend yourself perfectly fine so he doesn't have to worry too much about you getting attacked- Truthfully he would pity someone so foolish to do so. Cause if you didn't kill them he would.

• But what was most known was- Mihawk was so whipped for you. Figuratively and Literally-

• The way you were formally introduced to the whole entirety of the Strawhat pirates was a necessary evil.

• "Zoro we need this- It says a red ruby is needed in order for this and we have non thays big enough!" Nami yelled pointing to the treasure map, Zoro sighed. He had accidently admitted he knew someone with a ruby big enough-

• After enough pestering he agreed and they set sail to Kuraigana Island

• It didn't take long to arrive at the gloomy island, A quick journey to the large castle and the spare key hidden under the mat lead the group inside.

• It looked like a cleaned haunted house- Which frightened the group more till the sound of your voice shook them from their thoughts

• "Is someone here?" You call from the large lounging area. Drawing them all in to the well lit room with a crackling fireplace.

• Sanji covered his nose quickly to stop a nosebleed as he stared at you, So elegantly seated with a cup of tea and a amused look on your face at seeing such a young group or pirates breaking into your home.

• Before Sanji could say a word Zoro slammed his hand over the blondes mouth quickly.

• "Madam Dracule" He said formally and bowed respectfully

• His whole crew stiffening at hearing the formal use of your name.

• DRACULE MIHAWKS WIFE!?

• Sipping your tea you raised a brow at Zoro as he bowed deeply to you. You knew he respected you just as much as Mihawk- the wife of his teacher as well as one of his teachers as well since you did assist in training.

• "Zoro, My dear child what brings you and your friends here?" You ask calmly, setting your tea aside as you felt the shift of the room.. they were nervous.

• "We came here to ask you-" The sound of the door slamming open shook them as they heard heavy footsteps walk to them. Revealing the man of the home, Mihawk. Wet from rain and pulling his hat from his head with a stoic frown

• "Dragă (Darling), What is this?" Mihawk questioned as he returned to his island home to see a familiar pirate ship docked and his Pupil on their knees before his wife. Paired with the group of familiar pirated standing in his livingroom.

• "I am not sure yet love, We were just about to discuss it" You say softly, standing up to gelp him take off his sword and coat. Already feeling his eyes following you as you did this-

• Both of you knowing it was an excuse to touch him.

• "We wished to temporarily barrow your ruby necklace Madame." Zoro said still bowing formally

• Mihawk's eyebrow twitching at hearing this-

• "You wish for my wife to give you her necklace?" He said as his eyes narrowed down at them.

• "J-Just for a little bit Sir!" Nami said, feeling anxiety wash through her system.

• "My Love" You cooed, reaching a hand over and touching the side of his face. Immediately it was like dealing with a feline, Leaning into your touch as he gave you a warning glare.

• "Barrowing a necklace is so minor compared to us at that age. Remember Cohi Island?" You purred, Mihawk giving a subtle growl in the back of his throat. "Ah Cohi Island, How can I forget?" He all but purred out.

• The two of you reminiscing as Mihawk began to place kisses up your arms as you pulled him close and whispered sweet sensual words and memories to him.

• "A little necklace won't be much trouble, Especially since it will be returned~" You whispered in his ear

• The poor strawhats subjected to the very outward affection of the Warlord. It was quite a unpleasant experience for them all-

• Mihawk unclasping the necklace with his teeth before tossing it at Zoro who quickly caught it. The Warlord glaring at his Pupil lazily

• "It will be returned' He said stoically, before returning to his task at hand.

• You wave them off, Smiling softly as Mihawk leaned into your neck to lay kisses and love bites.

• Zoro bowing again quickly as he held the necklace and the youthful pirates quickly filed out of the castle as fast as possible. Zoro still clutching the gemstone

• "Holy fuck! She literally got Hawkeye of all people to give you the necklace!" Usopp said in shock as Zoro nodded. Nami's eyeing that diamond necklace

• "Yes but it must be returned-" He stressed. Not being stupid enough to let anyone steal from his mentor or his wife-

• The group nodded and looked out at the raging storm that beat against them.

• "Well it's raining maybe we can ask for a room-" Usopp started but Zoro quickly shook his head, His face pale and eyes like he was living through War Flashbacks.

• "No- The unholy noises that are about to invade that castle no one will sleep" He said in a deadpan voice- and from the look in his eyes everyone believed him.

• That was a couple too in love

[ziaxkawaii]

The Creator needs help

I claim to know s*it about canon genshin impact Teyvat lore or how things work in it. I just wrote something that was on my mind at 2 AM.

~~~~

Teyvat was crying...

No, it wasn't any ordinary rainy day no.

Not only was water falling down from the skies above in the form of tears, hail and snow also came down along with powerful winds in places that rouse concern in humanity and other forms of life alike. 

Thin layers of snow covered parts of the smeltering deserts of sumeru, rain poured down in forever freezing shnesnaya, pillars of ice formed in the waterfalls of watatsumi island in inazuma and such other incidents wreaked havoc all around the land of Teyvat. 

These disasters drove away almost all creatures of nature into hiding and cursed all yields to be near nonexistent due to the extreme conditions, leading to a landwide food shortage and miserable people. Even vision holders report feeling less elemental energy from their visions than before.

Mr. Zhongli, or formerly known as Morax or Rex Lapis, sat at Third-Round Knockout on a rare good day drinking tea as he  watched the dark clouds over the sea creep closer to Liyue Harbor. He sighs, as he already figures that the weather would one again cut his visit short.

Just as he brought this tea cup to his lips to take another sip, his surroundings changed. He was no longer drinking tea he was standing inside a domain of sorts. Where ever he looked, he couldn't see an end to the limitless space.

He wasn't alone though, six others, who he realized were the other archons and people of the highest authority of each nation, were here as well. And from the looks of things, they were just as perplexed as he was.

Since all of them were brought here, it could only mean, a being higher than them have summoned them for a purpose.

"Be not afraid."

A voice spoke, which drew everyone's attention to them.

A figure floated by their lonesome in place with a calm and understanding expression as they gestured at the seven of them. The figure was like a glowing humanoid lamp, glowing brightly with no distinguishable features whatsoever, except a horizontal golden line at their throat that seemed to extend all the way around their neck.

As if their head had been cleanly sliced off...

Wait... He recognized such featured being described somewhere. An ancient parchment that spoke of a deity that was the purest and highest being in all of Teyvat. A being whose purity was reflected on how others would perceive them, for they lost their real body and a line as tough drawn with gold wrapping around their neck symbolizing their sacrifice to the life on Teyvat.

That being being the Creator...

The moment Zhongli realized who was talking to them, he sank down on one knee. Others following suit as they too realized the same thing as he did.

"Be not afraid... I am not here to neither cast judgement nor punishment." Their voice spoke, as though it was coming from everywhere at one. From behind the seven, from above, from inside their craniums. It would of felt almost overwhelming, had they been afraid, but none were.

"Your excellency... why have you summoned us to appear in your presence, if not for a punishment?" Zhongli hears one of the seven ask, as the same question runs in his head.

That was an excellent question. Though many of the Archons have done everything in their power to fulfill their duties as assigned, their disastrous and war filled past and even current lives, leave no room to doubt they too were not above desire.

The same desire that plaques Teyvat and every other being on it. Driving them to satisfy their own desires

to survive

to live

to build

to control

to destroy...

The Archons carry their sins for they are forbidden to forget them, it would be shameful to do so.

What reason are they here?

"My children... heed my words, for I am afraid time is running out." The creator spoke, their hands gently clenched in front of them, without a single waver in their tone as they continued.

"I was afraid that the day when the balance of Teyvat would be disrupted would come, but the severity of this disruption is far too severe. I can no longer watch as the creations I gifted life needlessly suffer." They floated closer to the kneeling seven as they pleaded.

"I beg of you my children, help end this misery that plaques Teyvat."

The Creators plead rang in their ears as giant bells as they looked up at their Creator, heads full of questions.

The Creator requests their assistance?

"Your grace, we do not know the causes of the anomalies on Teyvat, therefore we are powerless to help even our own nations. What can we possibly do to help?" Another Archons spoke.

"To understand our current obstacle, you must understand how Teyvat came to be." They spoke as, with a flick of their wrist, a mist like substance filled the surrounding space. Creating images aiding the Creators storytelling.

"As you are already aware, I, the Creator, was born of and egg and used the shell of said egg to create Teyvat, but that is not all." The Archons watched intently as images formed before their eyes one after another, telling a history never told before.

"After I was born, I wandered among the stars, awaiting for a purpose for my own creation. As time passed, a sudden desire willed me to use my given power for something, so I returned to my first ever home and used it's eggshell to house a new world in another galaxy.

I shed tears to form the seas, I took pieces of my body to create land, I blew air to form the atmosphere... I lent the sun and the moon to occupy the new lands lonely existence...

however... I wasn't satisfied...

what use does a world offer if no one is there to appreciate its beauty?"

The loyal Archons remained on their knees, listening to the tale of creation and birth of the land they call home. Seems as though even the most purest of beings in Teyvat cannot escape the curse of desire.

"So with the last of my strength, I gave up one of my hearts and divided it to millions and millions of pieces and scattered them all around the land and sea to form life. Life capable of growth, capable of feeling emotions and capable of death on the world I call Teyvat.

As a final gift, I gave up a fraction of my power and formed the seven elements. To make sure these gifts are not used wrongfully, I also created Celestia to act as guardians of Teyvat, the elemental energy and its happenings."

Zhongli stood silent in fascination of the history told. Their Creator really was just as benevolent as described in the ancient parchment he read oh so long ago. Even if their intention for Celestia was different from how things currently stand, they were thinking about their creations' well being. How could he disrespect his own creator so severely as to forget them? How could he?

"However...." The Creator continued.

"Just as I basked in relief and excitement of having created something that would have a life of its own... it caught the eye of another deity."

"They were envious of one of their own giving their body and attention to another, and so, they were going to curse the newborn world, which I could not let happen. I sliced off my own head as a distraction but the spell ended up landing on and affecting my own soulless mind and body, leading me to temporarily forget myself and my creation.

After the battle, my body and severed head fell into Teyvat, leaving behind the deity to grieve for hurting a fellow god.

My body collided with the earth while my head went missing, both staying unmoving, for I had no way to control them nor any memory to guide me on what to do. I felt as eons of life cycles passed before me, ground slowly swallowing my body and breaking it down, making me one with my creation." 

The sudden realization hit Zhongli harder than any of his meteorites. All along, the Creator has been among them. They were no spectator above Teyvat or a god who had abandoned them after their duty had concluded, no. They were there... they are...

"Yes, my children... I am Teyvat, and Teyvat is me."

Zhongli was taken aback as their Creator had read through his entire inner battle inside his mind. Now that he was aware of Teyvat's major historical event, he can finally start to string pieces together and think why Teyvat now experiences such instability. 

"Your eminence, since your body is apart of Teyvat itself, does the weather, soil and even elemental energy have anything to do with your physical well being?" Another Archon spoke and all tuned in to hear the Creator.

"I certainly does... Even if my body is no longer, most concentrated amounts of my being and the energy inside still lie beneath the ground, instinctively healing Teyvat and the ley lines from major damage, effectively enabling Teyvat and the elemental energy to remain balanced and flourish. 

However, lately the level of corruption in the ley lines and the amount of abnormal elemental energy surges have risen greatly, leading my "body" to panic and repel the added strain, therefore leading Teyvat becoming unstable." The creator hugged themselves as they explained and all of us understood the current issue and the gravity of it.

The creators physical body is what had been keeping Teyvat and its energy in line even when the Archons, gods and Celestia had abused it, but know that the last nail has been hammered, the creators body is no longer instinctually healing it and the Celestia is not stepping up to the task that was theirs to begin with.

"Your grace, just say the word and we are at your disposal. What can we do to help?" Zhongli himself spoke, voice even and calm for he had his full faith in his creator.

"You need to find my long lost head and bring it over to my bodys remains. Only then, can I reawaken and consciously put a stop to all of this, for in my current state I am a mere piece of your imagination laced with a voice." The creator explained, as though to prove their point, Their voice now sounded from inside their head as they floated higher and addressed the seven once more with a formal order and open arms.

"Please, find my body and bring my head over to it so I can awaken and help put a stop to this disaster! Let my mind be once again one with my body so balance may be restored, and the curse be lifted!"

Zhongli blinked and everything was just as it was before getting pulled into the domain to meet the creator. The tea he was going to savour previously, was still in his hand, steaming, as though no time had gone by at all. He however knew what had transpired mere second ago, was no daydream or a hallucination, his creator had really summoned him and requested his assistance.

With no more interest in the tea, Zhongli set the unfinished cup down while rising from his seat and began making his way out of Liyue harbor, with a newly acquired goal occupying his mind and shoulders.

[lucysarah-c]

Criminal Record

A young cadet from the survey corps began dating one of the higher-ups. What others did in their personal lives was none of Levi’s business, but in the comfort of your shared room, as each of you focused on your respective piles of paperwork, the brand new hot topic of the regiment felt like fair game.

“Did you hear that John and Grace are dating? I heard it from Erwin this morning,” you broke the silence, attempting to start a conversation with your long-time boyfriend.

“How could I not? Everybody is talking about that shit,” he replied, not even looking up from the opposite side of the desk, as he filled out forms.

“I think they look cute together, but I hope they can handle the attention during meals,” you said, taking a sip of your hot tea and leaning back in your chair.

“She's too young for him, just a damn brat,” your grumpy boyfriend replied, leaving you torn between laughter and concern.

You continued sipping your tea, reclining in your chair with your eyes fixed on your boyfriend's raven head as he wrote. A mischievous smile crept onto your face.

“Levi.”

“What?”

“Levi~”

“What do you want?” This time, he raised his bullet-gray eyes from his work to see why you were being so annoying. “What’s so damn funny for you to have that stupid smile on your face? Go back to work; we're not even halfway through.”

“I was younger than her when we first slept together.”

Your words filled the room like a sermon about sins.

You were having the time of your life, while your boyfriend… well, he seemed to be having a mental breakdown.

Later, the next day.

“Erwin, do you think Grace is too young for John?” You asked him directly, already sensing Levi's discomfort.

“Huh? Well, she is young for him. But who am I to tell them who they should spend their time with? Even if I think it’s a little inappropriate,” Erwin replied, continuing to read one of the many reports he had.

It was just another morning for the six of you (Mike, Erwin, Hange, Moblit, Levi, and you), making sure all the assignments were in check.

You could hardly contain your laughter at his response.

“Did you know that I was younger than her when Levi and I started dating?” You omitted the sexual reference for the sake of your embarrassed boyfriend.

Hange spat out some of her tea and burst into laughter, while Mike simply chuckled.

Levi, on the other hand, kept his eyes fixed on the paper in his hands.

“Oh really? What do you have to say in your defense, Levi?” Erwin was, of course, poking the bear, a smirk playing on his lips as he raised his blue eyes from the paper to look at his friend.

“Oh my god! You even said the other day that she was too young!” Hange said, almost screaming between laughs. They were probably going to tease him about this for a while.

“Shut up, four eyes,” he replied before, probably, considering his next reply. “In my defense?” He echoed, confirming Erwin’s question. “In my damn defense, I used to kill people for money and be involved in drug deals as a thug in the underground. Sleeping with someone underage is the least of my sins; just add it to my long list of criminal records.”

This was my first one-shot ever. It's such a shame that somehow Tumblr erased some of my old posts out of nowhere, and I couldn't find it. It holds a special place in my heart because of that. But, well, I decided to rewrite it and post it again because I really want to keep it in my masterlist. Here is the link to part 2, but be careful, it was written a WHILE ago. Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out.

Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @i-literally-cant-with-this @angelofthorr @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @@feelingsandemotionsnotexplored @flxrartsstuff @katharinasdiaryy @@kikarouflames Wanna join my tag list? Here!

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Like my father pt 2 {burb}

Sirius x Potter!Reader

An: Already writing part 3. This can also be read as a solo.

CW: Amos Diggory slander, not proof read, use of y/n, bad dates, just cheesy fluff,

Summary: Reader has a bad date and Sirius comes to the rescue

Wc: 2451

Part one Part three

“I genuinely can't believe you let her walk out that door with him.” James groaned from the love seat where Lily had found a perch in his lap.

It was just a few months after your graduation when you informed your family and co. that you were seeing someone. Someone four years older, Amos Diggory. James protested, Sirius protested, even your mother did. Didn't stop you from accepting his date invitation. Nor did it stop you from leaving to go out to eat with him either.

Lily rolled her eyes, gently nudging James with her elbow. “Oh, come off it, James. She’s not a child anymore. She can handle herself.”

Sirius ran a hand through his hair, every part of him was tense, despite how he played it cool. “Drop it, mate.”

James sat up straighter, glaring at Sirius with indignation. “Drop it? Are you serious? She’s going out with a guy who’s practically an adult! What if he tries something? You know how boys are at that age!”

“Yeah, he's one of them.” Remus muttered and took a sip of his tea, earning a smack from Sirius.

“Stop talking like she isn't old enough to make her own choices.” Sirius huffed, crossing his arms defensively. “She was bound to start dating eventually.”

“Sure, but that doesn’t mean I can’t worry! I mean.” James pointed at Sirius and then back at himself. “He's older than us. I don't like it.”

“Maybe he is, but she’s not going to be alone with him in a dark alley, James. They’re going to a restaurant,” Remus chimed in, giving an amused sigh. “Let her live a bit.”

“This conversation isn't happening again.” Lily groaned as she stood up, grabbing James by his hand. “We're going to bed.”

James looked up at Lily and squeezed her hand with an affectionate, hell, lovesick look. “Yes ma'am.”

“Whipped.” Sirius huffed and Remus gave him a look.

“Goodnight all.” James waved before he pointed at Sirius with a glare. “You're gonna lose her, mate. Get your shit together.”

Sirius flipped him off before he sunk back into his bed. Sighing threw his nose and sank into the couch.

“You can't ignore it forever, Sirius.” Remus muttered and Sirius gave a scoff.

“Oh, but I can. And I will. She trusts me, she likes me, she thinks I'm just the greatest. I'm okay with that.” Sirius sighed and Remus gave a huff.

“Sirius, if she likes this guy-”

“Then I'll be happy for her.” He interrupted and ran his fingers a bit more purposefully through his hair. “She'll find someone worth her time.”

“Ugh. Is this how it felt talking to me?” Remus mumbled and Sirius rolled his eyes.

“I'm nothing, Remus. I don't have a damn thing to offer her. Not even my name means more than hers.”

Remus frowned. “That’s not true, and you know it. You’re a good guy, and you care about her. That counts for something. She wouldn't care about anything else.”

“Yeah, but it’s not enough,” Sirius grumbled, his voice laced with frustration. “I’m just her brother’s best friend. Some couch surfer her parents pitied. I’m not what she needs. Not when she could have someone like Amos. He’s got it all; looks, charm, and a future ahead of him. What do I have? A knack for getting into trouble and a penchant for living on the edge?”

“Sirius,” Remus interjected firmly, leaning forward. “You know she doesn't think like that. You haven't even given her the choice.”

“But she so often picks the wrong one.” He groaned and Remus shook his head.

“Just think about it, mate. I'm going to bed, you coming?”

“No I uhm…” Sirius glanced at the window and bit his cheek. “Think ima stay up for her. You know, to lock up after her.”

Remus slowly smiled and nodded, dismissing himself.

~~~

Sirius was shocked awake by the sound of the house phone ringing. He hissed and rubbed his eyes, having fallen asleep on the couch.

He groaned, the muffled ringing echoing through the house as he squinted at the clock on the wall. It was well past nine, when you should have been home. Who in their right mind was calling this late? He internally nagged himself for not being awake to welcome you home.

Reluctantly, he pushed himself up from the couch, his body stiff from the awkward position he had been in. As he shuffled toward the kitchen, he could hear the phone ringing again, the sound almost piercing his ears. He reached the phone just as it stopped, but before he could breathe a sigh of relief, it started ringing again.

“Ugh, bloody hell.” He muttered, picking up the receiver a bit more aggressively then needed. “Potter residence, what-”

“Sirius? Is that you?”

At the sound of your voice he almost toppled over. “Bambi? The hell? What are you still doing out?”

“Uhm.. dinner ran a bit later than I thought.” You whispered and you began to ring your fingers through the cord. “Would it.. would it be too much to ask you to come pick me up?”

Sirius thought about what you were asking for a moment, you didn't exactly sound thrilled to be there.

Not that he had to think about his answer for too long.

“Of course, bambi. Just stay put, yeah?”

“Okay, I’ll be here.” You sounded relieved, and Sirius could picture you visibly relaxing on the other end of the line.

He hung up the phone and quickly grabbed his jacket from the back of the couch, his mind racing with questions.

Sirius slipped on his shoes and headed for the door, he paused and quickly grabbed a pair of your sneakers before hurrying out.

It wasn't long before he got to the restaurant. Walking at night wasn't Sirius’s idea of fun, but the idea of you sounding so nervous and scared, he didn't even realize how fast he was moving. Some fancy place he was sure you'd never be found dead in. Even with your family’s status, you'd more often than not be found in diners.

He walked in, standing awkwardly at the waiting area. He peeked over the hostess stand, looking around the restraint curiously, only able to spot Amos sitting at a table alone. He furrowed his brow, before he felt a tug at his sleeve.

Turning around to see you, smiling up at him. The same smile you shot him when you headed out earlier tonight.

“Hey, little bug, what's going on?” His entire demeanor turned soft, and your smile faltered just a moment.

“I just wanna go home.” You whispered softly and Sirius took a glance back at the table, able to see Diggory looking around curiously.

He nodded and wrapped his arm around your waist, escorting you out of the restaurant to the grand stairs that lead to the sidewalk. He pointed down to the last few steps. “Sit.”

You huffed but did as you were told. Watching as he kneeled in front of you and took off your heels, replacing them with your sneakers.

You hugged yourself, the noodle strap dress doing very little to cut the cold. “Thank you, Siri…”

He sighed a bit at the nickname, standing up and taking your hand to help you up. “Did you call me all the way out here to ditch some boy?”

“Merlin, Siri, he's such a git.” You hissed and looped your arm around his. Clinging to what little warmth he gave off, as he began to lead you home.

Sirius raised an eyebrow, a mix of concern and curiosity flooding his thoughts. “What do you mean? What happened?”

You leaned into him a bit more, seeking comfort from the chill in the air and the whirlwind of emotions from the evening. Not used to the more casual treatment from men. Usually, being James Potter’s sister was a reminder enough for men to go above and beyond for your attention.

Given your brother was the boy who would dedicate his Quidditch Cup wins to his girlfriend or declare his love with obnoxious displays. Of course, {Y/N} Potter wouldn't entertain anything less. Seems Amos figured a pretty face was enough. “It started off fine, but then he just… I don’t know, he got too flirty and it felt really off. I thought I could handle it, but he just kept pushing. I felt uncomfortable, and I didn't want to make a scene.”

“Flirty how?” Sirius asked, keeping his voice low and steady, trying to gauge how serious the situation was. Debating on if it was worth running back in.

“He kept talking about how pretty I looked and how lucky he was to be with me.” You explained, your voice barely above a whisper. “At first, it was nice. I mean, you know I like being flattered.”

“What? No. I would have never guessed.” Sirius mocked and you hit his side with a huff.

“Shut up!” You laughed lightly, but the tension in your voice betrayed your discomfort. “But then he started getting too personal, asking if I was a good kisser and if I wanted to go back to his place after dinner. It just felt… wrong.”

Sirius felt a surge of anger course through him, and he tightened his grip on your arm as you walked together. “Did you tell him to back off?”

You nodded, looking down at your feet. “I did, but he just brushed it off and laughed. I didn’t want to cause a scene, so I just made up an excuse about needing to call you. It was the only way I could get out of there.”

“Good thinking.” He praised, his voice softening. “You did the right thing. You don’t have to put up with that kind of behavior from anyone, no matter how charming they might seem.”

You looked up at him, slowly your bottom lip began to quiver and he gave a surprised and panicked look. Before his expression slowly turned soft. “Oh, bambi.”

“I didn't like it.” You whispered, quickly lifting your free hand to dry your gathering tears. “It was my first date and I hated it.”

“Hey, hey.” He whispered and stopped walking. Lifting his hand to shoo away your own, using his thumb to dry your tears. “Hey, none of that, it wasn't your fault.”

“He was so gross.” You whined out and he tutted, pulling away as you took a shaky breath. “And his cologne smells awful.”

Sirius gave a startled chuckle and you slowly smiled up at him. “Smelt like a mix of cheap aftershave and desperation.” You added, a hint of laughter breaking through your earlier distress. He gave a louder laugh as he began to lead you back down the street.

“How cruel of you.” He chuckled and you shook your head, giving a small sniff. “How cruel of me? How cruel of him! I had to smell it all night, I'm the victim here.”

Sirius couldn’t help but smile at your determination to find humor in the situation despite how upset you had been moments earlier. “You’re absolutely right.”

You giggled, the sound warming Sirius’s heart. It was nice to see you lightening up, even if just a little. “I mean, really, if you’re going to wear something that strong, at least make sure it doesn’t smell like it came from the bargain bin. My dad has better smelling cologne and he actually gets it from the bargain bin.”

He shook his head. “Do you even know cologne? Is that even on your radar?”

“Well, no but.. I like my dads. And yours.” You hummed and leaned in closer, taking a small whiff of him before you scrunched up your nose. “Not this one. The green bottle.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk creeping onto his face. “The one I wore at Hogwarts?”

You laughed, your tension easing. “Definitely. It smells way better than what that git was wearing. You’d have all the ladies swooning.”

“Ah, but I’m not trying to swoon anyone tonight.” He hummed, his tone suddenly more serious as he looked down at you. “I’m just focused on getting you home safe.”

You met his gaze, a mix of gratitude and warmth filling your chest. “I appreciate that, Sirius. It means a lot to me.”

“Course. Next time you need a date, you just let me know, and I’ll screen them first,” Sirius offered, half-joking but also completely serious. “I’ll make sure they meet the ‘Sirius Standard.’”

You laughed. “The Sirius Standard? Oh please, I know how you treat your girls.”

“Not my girls. They aren't my girls.” He chuckled and you rolled your eyes.

“You don't have girls anymore? You've changed, Black.”

“Who needs girls when I got you to look after? Too much work if you ask me.” He huffed and you slowly smiled, fiddling with the threads of his warn jacket.

You guys eased into a calm silence. It wasn't long until you were home, and he was lifting up his keys and kneeling down to take off your shoe. You gave a sleepy yawn, looking down as he stood infront of you.

He did a double take, noticing how you chewed your lip.

“What's on your mind, bambi?”

“Just.. boys. Is it weird, Siri? That I haven't dated yet?”

“What? Doll, is that why you went out with him?”

“... maybe. Just.. James got to me the other day. I haven't dated anyone, that can't be normal.”

He cooed and walked over to you, “It's not, but it's special. You know what you want. That's a good thing.”

You looked up at him, your expression thoughtful. “You really think so?”

“Absolutely.” He affirmed confidently. “You’re not going to settle for just anyone. You’ll wait for someone who makes you feel safe and happy. That’s way more important than just dating for the sake of it.”

You smiled softly. “Thanks, Sirius. You always know how to make me feel better.”

“That's my job, isn't it?” He grinned back at you, before lifting up his arms. “Come ‘er.”

You giggled and hurried over to him, slipping your arms around his waist and nuzzling your face into his chest. He wrapped his arms around you and held you close, giving you a tender kiss on your forehead.

“Don't go rushing into things, bams. You've got a lot of years to find someone.” He whispered against your hair and you absolutely melted into him. Not noticing as the stairs from the second floor creaked and James peaked down to look at Sirius. Giving him a smile and hurrying back upstairs.

“Siri?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we watch a movie tonight?”

“Is it Grease?”

“... maybe.”

[ghosts-to-reid]

Neo Gothic IV

Summary: Spencer invites you to stay with him whilst you are being targetted. The journey of emotions is one you did not expect.

A/N: IM SORRY ITS SO LATE I HAD SO MUCH WORK TO DO She isn't proofread but she is LONG so i hope you enoy!

18+ Series! Mentions of murder and death.

SPENCER REID REQUESTS ENCOURAGED AND WANTED

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 5 / Masterlist / Bibliography

Spencer hasn't left your side since he parked his car in the BAU's parking lot. A lingering gaze around the room as he guides you with a soft hand, ghosting your lower back. He sits you down on a plush chair in Hotch's office, sending Penelope to fetch tea whilst he briefs Hotch on what he thinks the next steps should be. Never straying further than 3 feet away.

Meanwhile, you were still in a state of terror induced silence.

The memeory of Spencer so methodically opening that box, his almost clinical response, as if this was a normal day for him. It scared you to death. Blinking away the image of the dead raven was nearly impossible as you stared, glazed eyes pointed to the rough grey carpet. The poems once macabre comfort, noe turned sour as the stanzas float through your mind, You'd analysed this poem to death. You know the meaning behind it, all thee knowledge you had on poe began to spin throigh your head like a whirlwhind, trying to find any other meaning in the words-

"Here." Spencer's soft voice broke you from your trance, blinking away the dryness behind your eyes, you gingerly take the tea from him, taking a small sip. Spencer is crouched before you, one hand on your knee as he casts a concerned gaze to you through a furrowed brow. Hotch had left at this point, leaving the pair of you alone whilst he organises the team.

After a moment, you finally broke the silence you had kept since your abject discovery.

"The poem... It's about love. But love of a twisted kind. One that persists after death..." Your pace began to pick up as all your previous thoughts come fourth "It's about how strong love can be, hell he climbs into her grave in the end, that's what a sepulchre is you know? a tomb. and he called me 'Sanguinary' that's bloodshed, like a lot- a lot of blood- Spencer- Oh my God, does that mean he want's to spill my blood- Oh my God"

By the end, you have begun a terror filled tyrade, with all your fear and adrenaline coming to the forefront and begging to wreck your body with stilted sobs, the threat of hyperventing . Spencer has leaned forward, grabbign the mug from your hand whilst softly shushing you. Placing his hands softly on your shoulders, he squeezes so slightly, trying to bring you back from the ledge.

"Shhhh... It's ok. We're going to figure this out. The team is going to look over everything again okay? Just breathe with me." Softly, he ran his hands downyour arms, keeping his eyes locked with yours as he took slow deep breathes with you. Eventually, your sobs have stilted, and your breath returns to a normal pace. Spencer holds your hands in his "It's going to be okay, You're safe. I promise."

"But... Where am I going to stay? My... My house is a crime scene, and I can't even go back because now i'm being targeted by some guy who liked Poe a bit too much!" Pulling your hands from his, you place your head in your hands in frustration, rubbing your temples to ease the stress headache that is threatening to pentrate your brain.

After a moment of silence, Spencer pulls your hands away from your face, oncemore holding them in his. "You can stay at my house, with me. And then we can go to work together, where you'll be safe, and then i'll be there to keep you safe, okay?" His thumb rubbed your hand softly, and after a minute of hesitation you nod. agreeing to stay with spencer seems like your safest option. A moment later, the intimate scene was interupted by Hotch, calling you to go with him. Spencer explains that now you were a target, they will need to interview you to find any possible suspects.

Spencer leaves you to go and work with Emily and Derek, Hotch guides you to an interogation room, explaining the setting is purely formality. Sitting across from the pair, you fumble with your ring nervously.

"Y/N, Is there anyone in your life that you may have noticed taking a particular intrest in you in the last 3 months? It might not be in any significant way, maybe small ways." Hotch asks, his brows furrowed with cocnern.

"Think about people in your classes, we know the unsub knows your interest in the gothic as a student, was there any faculty or students who you might have spoken to, maybe even had a study session with?" JJ's voice is soft, kind as she navigates you through the interview. Your thoughts flooded with interactions you have had the past 5 years with your classmates, any significant or not, shaking your head after a moment.

"No, I can't think of anything... I've not made many connections since... since my parents died... I moved here and went head first into my studies, I haven't particularly focused on friendships or relationships until now."

"It could be an interaction as small as you lending them notes. From what we can gather, this unsub has crafted this fantasy around you and your interests. Stalkers like this can be triggered by even the tiniest moment of kindness." Hotch gazes at you softly, calmly probing you for information. After another moment, a small memory emerges.

"There was this guy... Tyler Jones. He worked with me as a TA in my undergrad, we both study the field. He asked me out once but I said no... He didnt ask again so I forgot about it. But he was really into the gothic, almost more than me."

When you mentioned a name, JJ had Garcia run it. She quickly discovered that Tyler had been studying his masters in Texas. This revaltion shook you, and most of the team quickly moved to locate him. As the three of you went to leave, JJ held your shoulder, causing you to pause

"Where are you staying?" Her voice was kind, still carrying the soft tone that everyone seemed to be coddlying you with.

"Im staying with Spencer actually, he offered before." JJ gives you a small smile, and pats your arm softly

"I've never seen him take to someone so quickly." She smiles "He's never like this with anyone new." Confusion painted your features for a moment, and with her impressive profiling skills, she of course caught that.

"You know he's a big germaphobe right? I saw him comforting you before, do you know how long it took him to get comftorble enough for him to even give me a handshake?" She laughs lightly, causing a ghost of a smile to find your features. Spencer had never shown you any indication of that, obviously. It's doubtful you would've noticed if JJ hadn't just told you. Before the conversation could continue, Spencer joins you both

"Y/N, I'm going to take you back to my apartment. Emily and Garcia are going to yours to grab some things for you, but right now we don't need much else from you, so i convinced Hotch to let us go early, Only if that's ok with you!" He begins a ramble of his own about your options, causing you and JJ to share a look of amusment. You interupt him with a small nod of your head, and a goodbye to JJ before Spencer leads you away, gathering your things before taking you to his apartment

The car ride felt odd for some reason. Either the situation of some random psycho sending you dead birds, rife with symbolism of deadly obsession, but you chose to focus on the fact that this was odd because it was the first time you were going to Spencer's apartment, instead of yours.

The ride was relatively quiet until you had turned on the radio, settling for a station playing old rock. There was silence otherwise, but there was also no tension past the obvious, there was an ease of nature between you two.

Eventually pulling to the curb, he leads you to through the old building, and into his apartment. The place embodied Spencer, The dark green walls barley visible through the expanse of bookcases, that were still too little to hold the amount of books he owned, with the remainder littering any other surface that was possible. The ebony wood of his furniture absorbed most of the light, with Spencers solution being a small army of lamps illuminating any corners that were eclipsed. Coffee and Patchouli, the scent of old books all comforted you immediatly, and you momentarily forgot your woe in the warm embrace of the domestic life of Spencer Reid.

Guiding you to his worn leather sofa, spencer exits to make the two of you tea. The day had quickly gotten away from you, the horror of the raven, the terror of being targeted, made the hours fly by and you noticed the time was nearer to Dinner than lunch, and that reminder caused a surprisng growl to erupt from your stomach. Whipping around at the sound of a laugh, you spot Spencer holding two mugs of steaming tea, slowly moving towards the sofa

"I guess dinner is probably a good idea, considering we missed lunch in the panic" placing your mug in front of you, he takes the place beside you. Sipping from his cup whilst eyeing you, gaguing your mental state.

"We could order in? It'll be my treat, as a thank you." This was the first time you had spoken since arriving, not out of horror this time, but from simple pensive thought. Though now, you were happy to focus on Spencer, and forget about the wider world outside his door. Spencer begtins to argue with you, but you're already arguing. Eventually, he submits and allows you to order you both pizza.

Emily and Pen eventually arrive to drop off your things, only stopping by briefly before they go to track down Tyler. They give you a tight hug each, before promising to do all they can. Penelope is far more concerned than you currently are, finding solace in your situation. Silver linings on all clouds exist after all...

Settling on the couch once more, Spencer turns his head to you.

"So, I guess this throws a wrench in our date plans?" He had a sheepish demenour, he was sat in one corner, facing you, whilst you sat with your legs tucked up underneath yourself in the other. Quirking your head to side you raise a brow of inquisition

"Why does it?" Is all you state simply, confusing the man beside you

"Well, I don't think it's a good diea if you go out, the unsub could follow you, and we can't do much here..." His lips form a small line, he was clearly dissapointed by the prediciment but trying not to show it.

"Why does it have to? A date is quality time after all... Hell, we could have a date tonight if we liked." Softly speaking, you shuffle towards him, closing the small gap and placing your hand on hiS "Pizza nad a movie night, under blankets, cuddling, that sounds far better to me than a fancy restraunt."

Spencer gives you a soft smile, and thinks for a moment "I think we can do that... What do we need to do?" Shifting in your position, any fear is forgotten as you eagerly explain to Spencer the idea, get into your pyjamas, pig out on pizza, talk, joke, and watch a movie. He seems caught of guard by simplicity but eagerly agrees. Changing into pyjamas, obviously picked by Penelope, as eahc pair packed are all variations of cartoon pyjamas that had been gifted to you years ago. Of course, still beggars cant be choosers, putting on your pyjamas in the bathroom, you exit to see Spencer setting up the couch with blankets and pillows. He has a loose FBI Academy tshirt on, and plain grey joggers. The pizza is on the coffee table in front of the sofa, and eventually, Spencer turns to see you watching him. He gives you a smile.

He has turned off the lights, leaving only a lamp or two lit. The cosy enviroment has made you long forget any terror, forcing you to focus on the man in front of you.

"Did I do it right?" He asks shyly as you make your way over to him, with a smile you pull him into a hug.

"It's perfect." He pulls you closer before you break a part, sitting beside one another.

The first movie is your choice, a Hammer House of Horror retelling of Elizabeth Bathory, the Vampire Countess. Spencer enjoys telling you the historical innacuracies, but you don't bother telling him you knew this already. Enjoying his enthusiasm on the topic much more. By the end of the movie, the pair of you are hip to hip.

The second is Spencer's choice. It's a film in French, that has no english dubbing. He thinks you'd enjoy it for its horror elements, and he offers to translate it for you. He pulls you in close to him, arm around your figure as he whispers softly in your ear.

By the third movie, it is late. The pair of you debate the practicality of a third film at this hour. He reassurse you Hotch has given him leave to guard you when you worry about how early he has to wake up, and you sooth his worry at the fact you may not rest. You assure him that after the events of today, you would rather watch films with him rather than your alternative of replaying the image of that raven, and igniting your fears once more.

The third movie is a shared choice, after a few minutes of searching, you discover a new release that intrigues you both. His arm is still around you as the film plays, and there is a quiet calm. Your head is laid against his chest, and you tune into his steady heartbeat. His hands trace ghosts of symbols on your skin, causing small goosbumps to form in their wake. There is a domestic bliss in this moment, as this was the most natural position for the pair of you, that you were meant to fit perfectly under his arm like this. Like, the pair of you were the creatures that Plato had described all those years ago. A perfect pair.

"This is the best date i've ever been on" You mutter softly, eyes still looking to the screen. Spencer looks down to you on his shoulder, a small smile gracing his lips.

"I think I can make it better though." His voice is almost a whisper, his confidence wavering slightly as he spoke. Moving to meet his gaze, you find him with a look of adoration in his eyes. Blinking, you hum in response to encourge him to continue. Slowly, he moves to meet your lips, placing a slow, chaste kiss where he lands. It is so tender, it surprises you. After the gruffness of the events of today, you welcome the tenderness of his lips, and return it best you can. The kiss lasts a few slow, passionate moments, before you break for air. The pair of you are awestruck by one another, film now forgotten as you lean in to kiss him again.

This time, the kiss was more feverish, more animalistic as your toungues meet. They begin to dance slowly before fignting for dominance. The kiss escalates, whilst you lie back in the sofa, his arms move to support himself on eitherside of your body. Your hads find his hair as one of his hands lightly traces your side.

When the two of you break oncemore, you are both short of breath. Spencer leans over you, panting lightly as he stares at your form, that same awestruck look painting his features once more.

"You're sublime." He whispers before dipping to kiss you softly again.

Spencer's words, his actions, are so careful and kind. He is calculated in a way that shows his appreciation for you rather than a want for your utility. He has worshipped you every moment he has been able to, and clearly has been for a long time. The safety and satisfaction that Spencer lends you in his pressance is made up of pure adoration for you.

Once the pair of you finally find your attention back on the film, you are both lost on the plot. It is now the early hours of the morning, and the subject of bed sharing was never brought up. But, as if it was your most natural state, he simply leads you to his bedroom, where you both fall asleep together once more, mirroring your positions from the hotel. His arm, protecitve around your waist, and you, snuggled tightly into his chest. This was a habit you were beggining to become used to.

As morning light creeped through Spencers heavy cuurtains, you stirred awake. The weight of his arm was still heavy agaisnt your waist, in the night you had turned away from him, ending up with your back perfecttly curved against his front as he snored lightly. It was the type of morning you fantasise about, the sun shining, birds twittering, yet you couldn't ignore the terror that haunted you any longer.

Last night, you had clung to the distraction of your date with Spencer. The night was everything you had dreamt of, the pair of you had talked all night about anything, and everything. But, that raven haunted the back of your mind.

Why would you be a victim? You knew from the team that stalkers psychology wasn't rational, but you had been a practical loner during your time studying. Study sessions with classmates, and maybe a casual conversation here and there, but no significant interactions besides Tyler sprung to mind. Most nights were spent alone, in obscurity in the crowd.

Then, you tried to look at yourself from a clinical perspective. What traits might draw in a gothic obbsessor to you?

A few moments passed whilst you complied this list in your mind, analysing yourself against every gothic story you knew.

A tight squeeze from behind you broke from your thoughts, as Spencer pulled you closer to him. He nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, and a small smile found its way to your lips. Turning in his hold, your eyes met his drowsy ones, still half lidded. You utter a soft good morning, which he returns by kissing your forehead softly.

"Good morning... Have you been up long?" His voice is laced still with dreams, rough but soft.

"Not long. Just been thinking..." Keeping your voice low, you try not to break the tender moment between the two of you. He hums whilst reaching a hand softly from your side and up to your cheek.

"What about?"

"Just..." Your voice stilted, trying to find the words "Just trying to think why I might be a target... From a Gothic perspective that is... Why would I be chosen for this?"

"Maybe he saw something in you that reminded him of a story he read, or a character he liked. It wont be anything you could control though..." His hand is softly stroking yoour cheek, he is more alert now. Trying to soothe you from any worry that may be awaking with you.

"I think I figured it out..." Voice still soft, barely a whisper. You were afraid to admit it outloud, but you had figured it must be this. Spencer nods for you to continue.

"I think it's because I fit the archetype of the tragic gothic heroine. You know, the damsel in distress?" Pausing to organise your thoughts, Spencer simply waits, still softly stroking your cheek. "Im an orphan... Both my parents died when I was 19, I had to stop school for a while because of that... And now im alone, in a place where I moved without knowing a single soul. My past..." Again, another pause, your voice catches in your throat. Emotion now taking over.

A part of your past you tried not to touch was your parents death. It wasn't as if you hid it, it was just too painful a memory to recall. Tears well in your eyes as you recalln the night you discovered them, lifeless and bloody in your childhood home. Spencer moves to sit up, bringing you up with him. He cradles you in his arms as you lean softly on his legs for support. He rubs soothing circles on your arm as you gather the courage to share.

"When I was 19, I was in my second year of college... I came home for a surprise visit one weekend, and when I got home, it was empty. It was weird, my parents would be sat in the living room watching tv usually at that time, you know? So... So I called out to them. I searched the house when I didn't get a response from the. There was no sign of anything, it was like they had completely dissapered. Then I thought, You know maybe they're both in the storm sellar. My dad. H-He had turned it into a workshop, he liked to make things... He made me a great desk once, I still have it. But... But maybe I thought he wanted to show mum his new creation, so that's why they didn't hear me, you know?" Tears had began to fall, you were becoming frantic now, trying to get the facts of your parents death out before you could shy away. "I was right, they were both down there... I'll never forget the... The smell when I opened the shutters... We lived quite remote, they were quiet people, you know? So no body hearing from them wasn't strange, so when I got there... It had been 3 weeks." A loud sob broke from you and spencer pulled you closer to him, still soothing you.

"Maybe you can carry on later?" His voice softly penetrated through your own terror, but you shook your head, pulling away from him and sitting straight facing him.

"No, no I need to tell you or I never will... They were murdered. They... They had been held at gunpoint, and torutured for days..." you were trembling, but your eyes never broke from spencer's as you rushed your tale "I... The things he did... Then he killed them. He... He made my dad watch as decapitated my mother before doing the same to him. They left them like a display...." Spencer moved to hold you. You were now a wreck of shaking cries and laboured breath as you finally broke down in his arms. The man holding you was in abject shock, things beggining to make sense to him now.

The aversion to the crime scene photos wasn't due to being squeamish, it was because of the reminder of your parents. He would've also put money on the fact that your intrest in the Gothic was actually a subconcious need to find logic in your parents murder. It is after all, a historic genre of metaphorical trauma, the illustrations of mankinds sins.

"Im so sorry, angel..." He hushed you, rocking you slowly and petting your hair. He continued this motion, cardling you like a colicy child, until you finally were composed enough to continue. Eyes red and puffy, skin blotchy and red from the intensity of your cries. Almost afraid to ask, Spencer moved forward with his questions "Did they catch their killer?"

A small no was your only response "Death penalty..." was all you whispered. He took this as encouragment to further his line of questioning "Did you go to therapy?"

"Still do..."

"Where's the rest of your family?"

"It's just me, now..."

"So, how long have you bottled this up? You... You said you aren't very social, you don't date... When was the last time that you- That you let go like that?"

His question caught you off guard, but you couldn't recall the last time you had cried so hard over your parents. The thought of them was one you avoided. It only brought up memories of that storm cellar, the smell, the decay... Maggots unsettled you in a visceral way now, as did flies. You would see them in eveything, but the thought of their coporeal form was one that would rarely linger in your concious, lest the threat of their dismembered bodies haunt your mind once more. Though you loved them deeply, for your own protection you had tried to forget them in another state.

Spencer took your silence as an answer before pulling you up, he began to lead you into the living room before making quick work of getting you a glass of water. Here, you sat with him most of the day whilst he asked questions about your past, your family, your parents. You told him about how you'd grown up on the outskirts of a small town, that you were always a fan of ghost stories and would get in trouble for reading too much in lessons. Spencer was ammused by that, he was totuched to discover that your furniture in your apartment were actually pieces that your father had made, and you had brought with you. Sharing stories of holliday memories with your mother baking, even recalling the negative. Your parents arguments, the nasty things they'd say in their fury. The occasinal military style punishment you had underwent, but that also brought fourth the memories of your parents guilt, how they would show how much they'd truly love you after wards. They were imperfect, but that wasn't a problem.

Sharing wasn't only on you, Spencer shared with you his mothers condition. He told you about how he had to admit her into a home when he was just 18, The troubles he has had trying to navigate becoming the carer of the person who is meant to care for him. Tears, laughter, joy, and strife were shared between you, as you both lazed the day away, in hazy nostalgia of each others past.

In the middle of Spencer's story about his acrobatic exploits as a child, his phone rang. Excusing himself to answer, he stood a few steps away from you, just outside the door of the living room.

Moments later, he returned with a pale face. Curiosity combined with fear as you stood to walk over to him. Gingerly, you called his name.

"What happened?" He was silent for a moment, almost afraid to meet your eyes.

"Another box was delivered to your apartment today..."

Quirking a brow, you felt your heart beat quicken.

"Another raven?"

When Spencer didn't answer, and kept his eyes glued to your feet, you grew even more concerned.

"Spencer?" Your tone was impatient, but quivered still

He took a small deep breath

"It was the head of Tyler Jones."

Part 5 soon...

Tags: @pleasantwitchgarden @xamapolax @kchv

[skauni]

Ghost being a girl dad and Soap being a boy dad and their kids have a play date 😋

Ghost being a girl dad meant that his daughters were pampered in most senses except one: if he says no, there’s no persuading him, not even with their adorable doe eyes. Ghost had 2 daughters, Sydney and Kacie. Both practically exact carbon copies of him. And boy was he dedicated. He even played dress up with the girls and has tea parties with them.

Soap was a boy dad. Three boys. Ferris, J.J.(John Jr.), and Cody. The boys are nothing like Ghost’s girls. They’re all about roughhousing and pranking. And Soap absolutely joins in on that.

Soap and Ghost eventually decide their kids should have a play date, though Soap has to show his boys how to be nicer with the girls and Ghost has to show his girls how to handle the boys. When Soap brought his three boys to Ghost’s house the boys kinda just… stared at the big man dressed in all pink and two girls clinging to his legs. Trying not to giggle, obviously.

Soap and Ghost start to catch up and the kids go off into the back yard. Cody and Ferris had no interest in playing with the girls. But J.J. let Sydney and Kacie play with his hair and, as Gjost says, “make him look pretty.” His brothers laugh at him for it and try to take one of his hairpins out, but are quickly met with a grumpy scowl and an aggressive swat from J.J. When his brothers left him alone he leaned back down for Kacie to do his “makeup” and Sydney sat on her knees as she continued playing with his hair. The girls genuinely having fun with J.J. because he was just accepting whatever they did to him.

The 5 of them were all the same age—except for Kacie, who was 2 years younger than the other 4. Ferris, Cody, and J.J. were triplets and were 7 years old. Sydney was 7 years old as well and Kacie was 5. While Ferris and Cody preferred to play pirates, J.J. actually liked playing dress up, tea party, pretend, all that—with Kacie and Sydney. Liking their calmer personalities more than his two brother’s aggressive personalities.

But, when the girls asked, he played tag with them—purposely going slower when he chased Kacie so she didn’t feel targeted for being slower than her sister. Ghosts and Soap sat on the porch chuckling and sipping on a beer as they watched the 5 kids together. Eventually Soap slipped his hand into Ghost’s. “It’s been lonely withou’ life oon the base, ain’t it? The boys are the oonly company I have left.” Ghost nodded. “My girls are my only company I have left too. But our kids are the ones tha’ brought us back together today. So let’s focus on tha’, aye?” Ghost replied. “Aye.” Soap agreed.

[repulsiveliquidation]

Collateral || Ona Batlle

warnings : mentions of kidnapping, implied violence. smut at the end. fingering, strap-ons, rough sex. Part 2 of ‘Too Dangerous’.

summary : love always pays more than money ever will.

Days passed and you were desperately trying to think of ways to get Ona and the girls out and away from all of this.

You knew you shouldn’t have meddled. You knew your peace was something you were taking for granted and now you were paying the ultimate price.

Your girlfriend.

“Michael, there is no  fucking way I am putting her in danger!” 

“Ma’am,” George knocks, letter in hand. “He’s sent us another one.” 

“Open it.” 

Another picture of Ona, this time of her in the garden with the girls enjoying a bottle of wine, was circled in red again. George pulls out a cryptic letter too, which faintly smelled like cigarettes and honey. 

“Since you’re stubborn and love watching the people you love suffer in isolation, I'll make you a deal you cannot refuse. Give me the stake you have in Barca, leave Ona for good and perhaps I’ll ease off the other girls. I heard Arsenal has been quite the business target in our world.”

I’m closer than you think. 

“Boys,” you growl, the letter crumpled in your hand. “Tell me how the fuck he’s got a picture of my girls from an angle that looks suspiciously like it was taken from the inside of this fucking fortress of a HOUSE?!” 

They stutter, already gathering their things. You yell for them to get out, slamming your office door in frustration. 

You sit at your table and the tears start to flow, sobs shaking heavily through you. You sit back and stare at the picture of you and Ona on the beach from last summer, her pretty smile and your arms around her middle were a feeling, at the time, you did not want to forget. 

You promised her you wouldn’t forget. 

“Girls?” 

They’re all bugging Gio on what to make for dinner, Ingrid and Alexia sitting by the bay window sipping tea. 

“Did you find him yet?” Aitana asks, the room going quiet. They all look at you and you suddenly feel nervous, hand shaking by your sides. 

“Can we all sit?” you ask quietly and Ona is beside you the minute you reach for her, unsure if this was the last time you could have her close. 

“There have been some developments with the case,” Ona stands beside you as you sit at the head of the table, all the other girls gathered around in their own seats. 

“We don’t know who it is yet. But, there have been some messages that have us concerned,” you say, looking up at Ona. She looks worried, all of them do, and you just wish you could have had better news to share. 

“Ona,” you push your chair back and hold both her hands in front of you. “I have failed you.” 

“Amor,” she begins but you shush her. 

“Please. I made you a promise that day you learned what I do for work. I promised I would keep you safe and as far away as possible from it all. All I’ve done from the moment we made ourselves public was make you vulnerable to the bad people I deal with.” 

You pause, watching her eyes well with tears. The other girls look close to tears too. You continue, no matter how painful the next words out of your mouth feel in your chest. 

“I have to let you go, princess,” you stand, cupping her cheeks. “It’s the only way I can keep you safe.” 

“No, no!” she screams, pushing herself out of your grasp. You reach for her and hold her wrists, forcing her to look at you. She puts up a good fight but you win. 

“Ona!” you say sternly, getting her eyes to focus solely on you. “Baby, if there was any other way, I would do it. But I have no choice. If losing you means you’re out there safe from the danger that follows me, so be it.” 

“You don’t get to decide what’s good for me!” 

“I’m afraid neither you or I have a say in this, my love. It’s the only way you can go back to the life you had before all this,” you turn to the rest of the girls. “It’s the only way. Please, you have to trust me.” 

“I don’t want to go,” Ona whispers, looking up at you. 

“You have been such an honor to love. But this is for your own good, princess.” 

The girls file out of the room to give you some privacy and the waterworks burst. 

“But, I’ll see you at the club…right?” she says through sobs, voice stuck in her throat. 

“No baby, we can’t do that,” you pull her into your arms. “I have to stay away from you. For your safety and theirs. But I will always be here to protect you.” You step back, pulling a necklace out of your pocket. 

“Wear this, let it remind you of me.” You lean in and kiss her, “I love you, I always will.” 

You’re true to your word and you keep your distance. There was another letter that showed up mere hours after the girls left with instructions on where to transfer ownership of those stocks to. 

Your fathers hard earned work, gone with a click of a button. 

All because of one girl. A girl who didn’t know the power she held in the palm of her hand. 

Ona knew what she needed to do to hold up her end of the bargain. She couldn’t look you up, ask for you, talk about you. She was to act like you didn’t exist. 

It was easier said than done. 

She couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t eat. Couldn’t play. She was benched game after game after game, her performance on the pitch proving sub-par with her lack of sleep and nutrition. 

The rest of the girls, especially the ones that she had with her at your house, knew what she needed. She thrived with you. She wasn’t the same Ona most of them grew up with. You brought out a side in her no one else ever had and now that side died alongside your relationship. 

“NEW OWNER OF BARCA FEMENI, OSKAR PHILLIPS.” 

The headlines in the paper the day after were a shock to everyone. There was a sense of hope that the girls held onto, knowing you still owned a piece of their club and therefore were still ‘protecting’ them but this? 

Did you not care anymore? Was washing your hands just like that reflective of what you thought of them? Ona looked at the headline again and noted the last name. Familiar, she knew of someone with that name…

“Ona, did you know anything about this?” Caro asks her in a little bit of an accusatory tone, pointing at the paper harshly. 

“No! Of course not!” 

“So she sells her major stake in our team, doesn’t tell you and leaves you all in the same fucking week and we’re supposed to believe you didn’t have a fucking clue about any of it?” 

“Yes! Because I thought as my friends, you would have my goddamn back! Not point your fucking fingers at me because it’s easier than using your brain to think!” 

Ona walks up to Caro, little body shaking with rage. 

“She left me with a shitty explanation, blocked me on everything, deleted her socials and her number from my phone, abandoned the home we made together, ABANDONED ME, and I’m the bad guy? Huh?! She’s the fucking saint because she did it for my own good but what about what I want for once? I wanted her and all it got me was a broken heart and a bed I can’t sleep in because it fucking smells like her! Every corner of my stupid house is haunted because of her!” 

Alexia wrangles the trembling Ona out of the room with Aitana and Ingrid while the others try not to make Caro feel too bad. 

“Ona, Caro was just asking–” 

“Yeah? More like rubbing it in my face that the love of my life left me to keep me safe!” she throws her hands up in frustration. “Me? Safe??? What a love story that is!” 

“Well, well, well ladies. I do hope I’m not interrupting anything.” 

Oskar stood in a pristine emerald suit with gold finishes everywhere possible. There were two guards that stood behind him, one that looked awfully familiar again. What was it about these men that made Ona feel like she was in a dream? 

Ona pushes Alexia off her and storms off, Aitana hot on her heels. They knew to trust Alexia to cover for them, Aitana knowing her friend needed her more than a board member needed her to kiss his ass. 

“Not at all, just some friendly tousling,” Alexia starts, reaching her hand out for the mysterious man to shake. “You must be our new owner.” 

“Oskar. If it isn’t La Reina herself,” he goads, taking her hand to shake.

Ona breathes deeply in the furthest shower stall in the bathroom. Aitana hugs her close and they share a sigh, wishing she could take the pain away from her friend. 

“Ona, you just have to move on amiga. She’s gone and it's for the best, sí?” 

“But what about me? Do you even know how hard it has been for her to be with me? We’ve tiptoed all around you all because we were so scared you would accidentally be exposed to her work and now I learn it was all for nothing?” 

“Amiga, she–” 

“It’s good to see you ladies again, how long has it been, a couple days?” 

A tall man with an eyepatch on walks into the changing room. Another goon follows close behind, locking the door when it shuts. A smaller man walks in, hat tipped just covering his eyes. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Ona starts, standing up and pulling Aitana behind her, “this is a–wait,” She looks at the men properly, taking in all that she sees. 

The scar. The eyepatch. The terrible teeth and…that smell. Cigarettes and honey. Ona remembers that smell. 

The paper in your hand the day you left. 

“It was you.” 

“Figured it out have you?” 

George steps closer to Ona, pulling his eyepatch off. There was a deep cut along his eye and it was still fresh. 

“See what your whore of a girlfriend did to me when she found out? She made you all leave before letting me know she made me. Good thing her brother pays better and has better men to take care of me.” 

“Money does make the world go around,” Oskar snarls before smirking, “or in this case, it made my sister’s world crumble.”

He comes closer, the smell of cigarettes and honey intensifying. 

“Shall I do it again, for you and all your friends to see?” 

Michael’s phone rings, breaking the silence in the room. You’re in London, hiding out in one of your many homes around Europe. After getting the girls to leave your home and finding the rat in your circle, you trusted no one but Michael. 

He was there through it all, being a loyal servant of your mother before he followed you. Your father may have had the billions but your mother was who ruled it all with an iron fist. 

All your other men were scattered around Barcelona, keeping a close eye on your girls and especially your brother. 

Blood is thicker than water but when Oskars’ concerned? Money was more important. Alongside showing his mother what a terrible decision she made making his little sister the heir to the family business. 

His mother needed to regret it. But first, his dear little sister would pay. 

And what better form of payment than the love of her life? A life for a life right? Since you ruined his? 

“We can’t find them anywhere!” 

“Slow down, Patri,” you tell her, “Who can’t you find? How did you even get this number?” 

“Ma’am, it’s me Ivan! They’ve got the girls!”

“What?” 

“Oskar’s got Ona and them!” 

Your blood runs cold. There’s panic setting in on the other line, frantic chatter of the rest of the team searching for the girls. 

He’s got Ona. 

“He’s got Ona!” Ivan yells and you come back, throwing the phone on the ground and scrambling to get to her. 

The phone ringing again startles you. 

“Don’t her cries sound so pleasing, sister?” “Amor, don’t give him what he wants!” 

“If you hurt even a hair on her head, I swear I will–”

“Will what, huh? Kill me and all my men? Cry to mommy that I took your toys again? Grow up, you pathetic excuse for a Phillips! This empire you think you have was supposed to be mine! And by the end of tomorrow, it will be.” “Don’t give him anything, baby please!” 

“Shut her up!” he spits, “You listen carefully if you want your girls to live,” your brother growls into the phone. You’re shaking, hands in tight fists.

“You are to publicly declare our family business to me. I want it in writing that all profits made from tomorrow onwards will be mine. You are to tell mother that you do not want to run the business anymore and that you decided to give it to me. Any deviation from this plan, I will have their heads sent to your house in London, got it?” 

The line cuts and you’re already in a car to the airport, private jet fueled and ready to take you to Spain to save your girl. 

“Junior, are you sure you can’t find her?” 

“The camera feeds cut off when they went into the bathroom, coming back on an hour later. Everything is wiped!” he shouts, throwing his hands up in the air in frustration. 

“Think, think…” 

“The necklace!” you scramble to the desk Junior was at, pulling up the tracking service you were paying a fortune for. “Junior, track the necklace!” 

As he pulled the information up, you begged and begged every deity out there that she was still wearing it and that it didn’t hurt too much as a constant reminder of you around her neck. 

“There!” 

“Ale? Do you hear sirens?” Ingrid asks the captain, leaning back in her chair that she was sitting in. The girls were unnaturally comfortable while kidnapped, being held in a similarly big house to yours. 

“They’re faint but I think I hear them,” Alexia says calmly, looking around at the other girls and the men that stood around the room. She didn’t want to alert them of their awareness nor give the girls false hope that someone was out there looking for them. 

As the sirens got louder and louder, the men watching them started getting agitated. Being loyal to their boss was one thing, but serving time in prison while that asshat got off scot-free was not something meatheads like them wanted to gamble with. 

“Those better not be for us, Gerald.” 

“COPS!” 

“Ona?!” you called out, rushing in with the police. You pushed past all the elite policemen, eyes scanning every face till you saw hers. 

“Ona!” 

She runs into you, melting into your touch. She’s crying, and so are you, happy to finally have her back in your arms. 

“You came for us,” she sobs, looking up at you. 

“Of course I did. I told you I would let nothing hurt you all and I meant every word.”

You hold her shoulders, looking at her. Not a single hair hurt.

“This was my fault.” 

“No amor you can’t blame-”

“Ona, you were in danger because of me. I did this. My work did this to you and your friends, this was never meant to happen,” you rant, running a hand through your hair. You’re pacing, breathing becomes harder and harder.

“Amor, you’re scaring me,” says Ona quietly, reaching out to grab your wrists; she knows you’re about to have a panic attack. Rare, but she was the only one who could calm you down.

“I can’t believe I let my work slip into my personal life, I PROMISED the day we met I’d keep you safe and I couldn’t even do that.”

“You have!” she yells, looking deep into your eyes. The rest of the girls have gathered in the living room where you were with looks of concern adorned on their faces. They’re wrapped in blankets, sitting on the couch behind Ona holding onto one another.

You look straight at Ona, chest heaving with tears welled in your eyes. An uncommon sight of vulnerability for you, one that Ona doesn’t even blink an eye at, her priority was to get you back to reality. That was how she loved, even with the past few days she’s had, she’s more concerned about you.

“You’ve protected me so well, mi amor. After that one time, you’ve never, ever, let me see anything that you didn’t want me to. I knew what I was getting into when you told me about the consequences of dating you and I accepted because I trusted that you would never break your promises to me. I love you, the girls and I love you so much. You found us, you brought us home.”

Your hands find hers, pulling her into your chest. You bury your face in her neck, breathing back to normal. 

You go back to your home in Barcelona; the rest of the girls returned to their loved ones in one piece. The whole thing is the biggest scandal of the year, headline after headline exposing the inner works of your brother. 

Turns out, he learned of your mother’s will well before she died and knew the plans your parents made to make the family business yours. Knowing he needed to bid his time, he waited till the right opportunity to get both you and his own mother to bend to his word. And it nearly worked. 

“You deserve a little something for saving me, mi amor.” 

“Aren’t you tired, princess? You’ve had such a busy day,” you tell her, watching as she climbed on top of you in her large bed that she loved still smelled like you. 

“I know how this works, every princess needs to reward her knight in shining armor.” 

“Oh? What does this princess have in mind then?” 

Ona pulls a strap from under the pillow. 

“Put this on and show me how much you’ve missed me?” 

Ona is on her knees the moment you ask, lips wrapped around your strap beautifully. She’s moaning around the silicone, eyes focused on you. Your hips thrust into her mouth gently, hands pulling on her long, silky hair. 

“Did you miss me sweetheart? Missed how good I fucked your mouth?” 

Ona’s eyes well with tears, throat loosening to let you fuck into it easily. She gags noisily, tears running down her face. You pull away, leaning over to kiss her hard.

“On the bed, beautiful,” you whisper, watching as she scrambles to spread herself for you. You kiss down her chest, cold fingers caressing her soft skin. She shivers at your touch, bottom lip between her teeth. 

“Tell me how you want it, amor,” you mumble, taking her breast in your mouth. Ona moans, back arching off the bed just a little. 

“Want it rough baby,” she says breathlessly, “Want you to fuck me stupid.” 

You’re pressing her down and forcing her legs wide open before she can finish her sentence, cock already teasing her entrance. You leave hickeys all over her back, hands kneading her firm ass. She presses back into you, ass flush to your hips. 

You leave a hard smack that resonates, Ona moaning when the sting stops. She’s soaking wet, pussy glistening at you behind her underwear. You push it to the side, slipping two fingers along her folds. You moan with her, pressing her back down more into a deep arch. Two fingers slip into her cunt, thumb rubbing her back door gently. You finger her hard, fingertips finding her sweet spot easily. 

Ona writhes, begging for you not to stop. You pull away and turn her over, fingers slipping back into her just as fast as they slipped out of her. Three fingers rub her g-spot aggressively, thumb flicking at her swollen clit roughly. 

Your lips suckle on her breast, free hand holding her close to you. She squirms and her lips never stop begging for you to let her come. The whine in her voice sends pleasure straight between your legs, brain aching to hear your girl come. 

“Amor!” she screams as she cums, thighs quivering hard. You barely give her time to recover before your cock is lathered with her slick on your hand as it’s pushed into her gaping cunt. 

Her eyes bulge out of her skull when she’s speared on your cock, pussy wrapped tight around the toy. She’s gripping the sheets, bottom half lifted off the bed as you fuck into her. 

You’re pounding into her hard, skin slapping hard as it echoes in the room. The moonlight pours into the room and some of it shines on Ona’s face. She’s got a sheen of sweat on her body which glistens and as your hips fuck into her, you feel your heart fall in love with her all over again. 

You pull out and turn her onto her knees, pulling her arms behind her back as your cock slips back into her. She’s drunk on cock, babbling and mumbling as you thrust into her faster. 

Several hard spanks on her ass and a few intentional thrusts send her into her second orgasm, this time sending her straight to sleep. 

She wakes up in clean sheets and a ridiculously large t-shirt on her, rubbing her eyes to find you walking into the room with Chinese takeaway in one hand and her favorite drink in the other. 

“Hi princess,” you coo, sitting at the coffee table by the floor to ceiling windows. She gingerly walks over, settling into the corner of the sofa you were in. 

You were opening up the food when her hand rested on your shoulder. 

“Amor,” she says quietly, “How did you find us so quickly?”

You chuckle, sneaking a bite of the salt and pepper squid. “You think I gave you that necklace as a going away gift? It doesn’t even have one diamond in it!” 

She laughs and it’s the most beautiful sound you’ve heard in a while. 

“Thank you,” she whispers but you stop her. 

“I made a promise to you that I always intended to keep,” you lean in and peck her lips. “I will always protect you from my work, no matter what it does to me. Because at the end of the day, you are more important and all of this.” 

--

a/n : i am so fucking sorry that this was 9 months later but i do hope it lived up to your expectations!

[alwaysmicado]

What you need

2.9k | 18+ NSFW | fwb!Joel Miller x f!reader | pt. 4

Warnings: no outbreak AU, implied age gap, facesitting, unprotected p in v, creampie, pet names, Joel is the little spoon Summary: Joel is sick and your pussy's the best medicine. A/N: This one’s just cute! 🤍 After the next two parts or so, we’ll start to get into it for real. Fucking around is fun, but it doesn’t last forever, does it…

pt. 1 ・ pt. 2 ・ pt. 3 ・ series masterlist ・ AO3

You: How was the client? Joel: I stayed home, not feeling too well You: You need anything? Joel: Just you ;) You: I’ll be there in 30. Stay in bed! Joel: No no babe, it’s okay Missed Call Missed Call Missed Call Joel: You’re unbelievable

“Oh, come on,” you groan and lift the measuring cup towards Joel’s lips. “Why are you such a stubborn baby, huh? Just drink the fuck-”

You stop yourself when you see him raise an eyebrow, a smug smirk tugging at the corners of his pale lips. He’s sitting in bed, his back supported by pillows, his head leaning against the wooden headboard panel.

Propping Joel up comfortably like this was a struggle in and of itself since this grown, successful man only sleeps with one, worn-out pillow he’s probably had since before you were born, so you also had to get two plumper ones from his couch to provide enough support for his poor back. What is it with him and refusing comfort? 

At least now you know what to get him for his birthday in September…

“Hmm, you love it,” he teases and puts his hand on your waist to pinch you lightly. 

“I would love it if you stopped fighting me and just took the damn NyQuil,” you counter and search his eyes. They’re heavy-lidded and glassy, revealing the exhaustion Joel’s been trying to fight all day.

You sigh and softly brush a strand of sweat-dampened hair from his forehead. He’s running a fever and the cool, damp washcloth you put on his forehead to alleviate at least some of his evident discomfort only did so much. 

At this point, you really just need him to listen to you for once, take the damn medicine and, most importantly, lie down and give his body the rest it so desperately needs.

You look at the collection of bottles on the nightstand next to him and shake your head. Since you didn’t know what his symptoms were before you came, you stopped at a pharmacy on your way over and bought everything : DayQuil, NyQuil, a bottle of cough syrup, peppermint tea, a bunch of pain meds, Epsom salts with eucalyptus and essential oils, fresh produce to make a smoothie - hell, even a thermometer because you weren’t sure if he has one.

The only thing missing is the patient’s cooperation. 

“I appreciate your care, darlin’,” Joel murmurs, reaching for your hand to pepper your palm with soft kisses, “but I really don’t need any of that. I’m just a bit under the weather, that’s all.” 

“You’d rather die than admit you’re sick, huh,” you state with a tilted head and raised eyebrows. 

“Now that’s a bit dramatic, isn’t it,” he murmurs and nibbles on your arm. 

“Says the grown man who gagged from the tiniest sip of green smoothie,” you scoff. 

“Yeah, well, that shit was disgusting,” he chuckles, pulling you closer by your waist so you’re straddling his lap. “C’mere, sweetheart.”

“You have a fever, Joel,” you sigh and cup his cheeks. “I’m worried, okay?” 

“About little old me?” He smiles and squeezes your hips. 

“Yeah,” you lean in to press soft kisses to his cheek. “And I need you to let me help you, so tell me what-”

“Sit on my face.” 

“Huh?” You sit back up and look into his eyes in surprise.  

“Take your slutty little pants off and sit on my face,” he repeats with a cocked eyebrow. 

“How is that-” 

“I’ll take the meds if you do,” he interrupts with a smirk, his eye crinkles giving away his genuine amusement at this genius suggestion.

You sigh deeply and look at the ceiling. How is this guy real? “And a whole smoothie,” you murmur as you get up. 

You push your shorts down together with your panties, let them fall to the floor, then climb back onto the bed to straddle Joel’s lap without the covers separating you this time. He looks at you hungrily, the fever completely forgotten as he sees and feels your naked cunt and thighs.

“Mmm, that’s it, baby,” he groans softly, his big hands on you immediately, gripping your ass and moving you up and down the length of his hardening cock. “Look at the mess you’re already making on me,” he murmurs, turned on by the wetness you’re spreading over his gray sweatpants. 

“You get off on caring for me, hm?” He taunts with a smug grin. 

“Oh, shut up,” you roll your eyes and capture his lips in a bruising kiss. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close, as close as he possibly can, kissing you greedily. You writhe and wriggle on his lap, moaning into his mouth, your hands tangled in his hair.

He breaks the kiss to nibble and bite at the soft skin of your neck, leaving marks behind. You’re letting it slide this time, enjoying the tantalizing sensation of slight pain mixed with the soft touch of his lips and facial hair that’s causing your pussy to clench around nothing. 

You’re just going to have to wear a silk scarf or something to work.

“God, I wanna taste you so bad, baby,” Joel moans into the crook of your neck, his eyes closed. You bite your lip and hum as the friction of your movements on Joel’s pants stimulates your clit perfectly.

“You gonna be good if I let you?” You purr into his ear with a roll of your hips, eliciting a soft whimper from him. 

“You come all over my face, angel, and I’ll do whatever you want,” he whispers, his fingers digging into your sides. 

“Alright, baby,” you coo and lift your weight off his lap. “Lie down for me.”

Joel scoots down and lays his head on the pillows, looking at you intently with big eyes. You position yourself over his face, hold on to the bed’s headboard panel and lower your hips carefully. 

“Look so fucking gorgeous,” he mumbles before hooking his arms over your thighs and pulling you further down. His warm breath and facial hair tickle you as he kisses your lips softly, then drags his nose through your wet folds, inhaling your mesmerizing scent and nudging your swollen clit before repeating the movement. 

You throw your head back and moan softly as he slides his tongue between your folds, lapping at your dripping hole and pushing in ever so slightly before circling your clit. Your fingers tangle in his dark curls as the vibrations of his deep groans intensify every movement of his lips and tongue.

“Fuck, you taste divine like always,” Joel breathes as he dips his tongue into your wet heat to lap up as much of you as he can. You look down and clench around his tongue when you see his blown pupils and frenzied look. His mouth moves at a relentless pace, making you squirm and tug on his curls harder. You’re so close already. 

When your moans get louder and Joel feels you grinding your pussy on his face harder to chase your imminent high, he can’t resist biting the marks already adorning your skin. 

“Ow, fuck!” You cry out in surprise at the sudden pain shooting through you. You hadn’t even noticed the purple bruises on your inner thighs when you showered and got dressed today.

Maybe it should concern you that your body hasn’t been without bruises for a few months now. But it doesn’t, if you’re being honest with yourself. You just weren’t planning on showing someone else’s marks off to Joel this time. You really weren’t. 

“Fun night?” Joel asks with a smirk before sucking on your swollen clit hard, keeping you in place with his hands splayed over your ass.

“Can’t complain,” you bite back back, or at least try to, since your voice devolves into a soft whine at Joel’s harsh treatment of your sensitive bundle of nerves. The deliciously painful feeling is almost enough to send you over the edge. 

“Oh fuck, that’s it,” you moan as he starts lapping at your dripping hole again, his nose rubbing against your clit with every stroke. “Feels so good, baby.” 

Joel groans with each lick to your puffy folds and throbbing clit, hooking his arms over your legs again and digging his fingers into your skin. “Please, Joel,” you whine, tugging on his hair harder. 

“Use my face, angel,” he pants breathlessly, completely drunk on your pussy. You’re the sweetest thing he’s ever seen or tasted. “Take what you need from me.” 

He's bucking his hips, trying to get as much friction from his pants as possible, precum leaking out of this cock steadily. 

“I’m– oh fuck –I’m gonna come,” you moan, sliding your drenched pussy over Joel’s tongue and nose frantically. He hums blissfully, holding on to your thighs and watching your face as you arch your back and fall apart with a strangled moan. 

You come on his tongue, your hips stuttering and your whole body trembling from the intense orgasm. Joel groans as he eagerly drinks your cum and slowly licks you clean when he feels you come down again. You yelp and your hips jolt at the overstimulation when he sucks your pulsating clit into his mouth, savoring your taste. 

You lift your hips and look down at him, your chest heaving and a satisfied smile playing on your lips when you see his jaw and facial hair dripping with a mix of his saliva and your cum. He looks gorgeous like this. 

You swing your leg over Joel’s chest and lie down beside him. He turns to face you and gently traces your thigh with his warm hand, still breathing heavily. You scoot closer, so you’re flush with his body and place your bent leg between his. 

“Kiss me, Joel,” you purr as you nudge his wet nose with yours and caress his cheek with your palm. He gives you a smile before leaning in and capturing your swollen lips with his. You part your lips and allow his tongue to slip inside, feeding you your own cum. He grabs your ass to pull you closer against him, your bodies pressed together heatedly, both breathing heavily as you feel the thud of your combined heartbeat. Joel groans into your mouth softly as he rubs his throbbing cock against your hip, his hand traveling along your waist to your belly. You thrust your hips so your pussy rubs against his thigh on the bed, more than ready to come again. 

“So perfect,” Joel murmurs against your lips as he slides his hand under your shirt and palms your breast. He tweaks your hard nipple, eliciting a soft moan from you. He furrows his brow and looks into your eyes intently, his pupils even bigger than before. Every fiber of his fevered body is aching for you, to be close to you, to become one with you, to be yours.

You see something shift in his face, but can’t put your finger on what it is, so you don't say anything. 

“Can I fuck you?” He mumbles into your neck where he’s kissing and biting at you sloppily, his hand still massaging your breast and his cock screaming for release. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You breathe, your need for Joel to be alright still trumping your primal need to get off. You're an animal, not an asshole. 

“I’m more than okay, darlin’,” he reassures you with a tired smile.

“And you’re not gonna die on me halfway through?” 

“Don’t care,” he murmurs and takes your hand to press it against his erection. You rub up and down his length slowly as he slides his hand between your legs. You groan when he circles your sensitive clit a few times before sliding two of his fingers into your warm cunt. He pumps them in and out a few times before adding a third, the heel of his palm putting delicious pressure on your clit. 

“You want me to ride you, baby?” You pant, feeling your second orgasm build already. 

“Can we-,” Joel breathes, his cock throbbing, “can we just stay like this?”

“Of course,” you nod and help him pull down his sweatpants. He pulls his fingers out of you and wets his cock with your slick before removing his pants fully. “C’mere,” you coo as you draw him close to you and drape your leg over his hip. He strokes his length a few times before nudging your entrance with his pulsating tip and sliding in in one smooth thrust. He wraps his arm around you, splaying his hand on your back under your shirt, moaning into your hair when he bottoms out.

“Oh shit, you feel too good, baby,” he groans and holds on to your ass cheek to pull you toward him in unison with his frantic thrusts. “I– fuck –I ain’t gonna last long,” he pants. “You want me to fill you up?”

“Yeah,” you nod with a needy moan, your brow furrowed. Joel’s cock is hitting your g-spot repeatedly, causing the muscles in your thighs and lower belly to tense and your climax to approach rapidly. 

“Tell me, baby,” he breathes, his cock massaging your inner walls with every snap of his hips. 

“I-I want you to come inside me, Joel,” you whine, your nails digging into his shoulders. “Please, please fill me up.” 

He can feel your walls tightening around him and your whole body tensing, so he tilts your head up by gripping the nape of your neck. “Look at me, baby,” he breathes and grinds his pelvis against your clit. It only takes a few more of his thrusts for the tension in your belly to snap with an intensity you’re never able to achieve on your own. Or with anyone else for that matter.

You come with his name on your lips, your walls spasming and contracting around his cock as you ride out your orgasm. Seeing and hearing and feeling you in such a state of ecstasy due to his touch pushes him over the edge, emptying himself deep inside of you with a breathless groan. He stays buried inside you as his cock pulses and your pussy swallows every last drop of his warm cum. 

You stay like that for a minute, limbs intertwined, skin hot and sweaty, breathing heavily, hearts pounding, looking at each other curiously. You slowly trace Joel’s eye crinkles with your fingertips, then gently run your fingers along his perfect nose before moving further down to gently touch the bare spot on his jaw where his facial hair never grows.

“What’re you doing,” he chuckles, drawing shapes on your ass and thigh with his fingertips. 

“Nothing,” you lie with a warm smile. “Just looking at the man who most definitely just gave me all of his germs and will most definitely come and clean my apartment when I’m lying in bed with a fever."

Joel rolls his eyes in mock offense and you giggle. “Told you to stay away when you showed up here,” he murmurs and slaps your ass playfully.     

“Oh, Joel,” you sigh, “you’ve come inside me so many times that our DNA is probably the same at this point.” You kiss his forehead. “I don’t care about a few germs if I get to ride your face and hear your cute little whimpers when you almost come in your pants like a teenager.”

Joel's cheeks flush with a mix of fever and embarrassment as he catches the hint of a grin on your face. “Stop it,” he grumbles, the corner of his lips twitching involuntarily. “You’re mean.” 

“And you’re impossible,” you chuckle, your hand reaching out gently to stroke his forehead and tousled hair in a soothing gesture. His eyelids flutter at your touch and a faint sigh escapes him, a small surrender to the tenderness you’re offering.

— “Thank you, darlin’,” Joel murmurs before setting down the glass on the nightstand and laying his head on the pillow mountain you’ve built for him. “I’m just gonna lie down for a bit.” 

“Alright, baby” you coo, walking over to your bag to retrieve your phone, then sitting on the bed beside him. You play a game for a few minutes, relaxing and monitoring Joel’s rhythmic breathing. He’s lying on his belly, his head turned away from you, his left knee pulled toward his chest. It’s the same exact pose you sleep in. 

In another life you might fall asleep like this together every night, two puzzle pieces fitting together perfectly, completing each other. You smile softly at the thought and reach out to stroke his back. 

“All your fault,” Joel grumbles into the pillows.

“Huh?” You ask, startled and confused. You thought he was fast asleep. 

“Haven’t seen you in over a week,” he mumbles. “Bad for my system.” 

You chuckle and plant a soft kiss on his temple. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. “Won’t happen again.”

“Just stay for a while,” he murmurs, his voice a mere whisper. You linger for a few seconds, studying his profile, before lying down behind him. He instinctively turns from his belly onto his side, so you can drape your arm over him.  

“You can sleep now, baby,” you whisper as you nestle against his back, molding your body to his contours, your warm breath ghosting the nape of his neck.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

---

Thank you for reading! 🤍

part 3 || part 5 || series masterlist

[nightdivinity]

Drink Responsibly: Chapter 1

ABO!Vampire!Batfam x reader

Minors! Do! Not! Engage! +18 only!

Platonic!Alfred, Bruce x reader, Possessive! Batboys x reader

Warnings: Bad life choices, possessive behavior, a/b/o, they're vampires, loooong age gaps, no proofreading, reverse harem.

Writer's Note: I am so tired. I exist only because of caffeine and spite. So here you go, Chapter 2 is done as well. It will come out Friday hopefully.

Grey eyes stare into yours as you try your hardest to not squirm under the intensity. How did you get to be where you are? You have no clue. Honestly, there shouldn’t have been a callback. You should not have landed this opportunity for the second interview. The initial screening process should have weened you out in the first place.

From what you had gathered from the chatty chauffeur in the town car, (the town car! They knew you had no car to get to Wayne Manor, let alone to your job. Yet they still sent you someone to go pick you up from your ratty apartment.) This was all ordained by someone much higher than Mr. Pennyworth in front of you. The talk with the chauffeur had almost put you at ease until you looked out the window and saw the heavy iron gate open to Wayne Manor’s winding driveway. There’s no doubt in your mind. You shouldn’t be here. In more ways than one.

It made your bandages itch the more you thought about it. You couldn't scratch them like the feral animal you were deep down inside. At least, not when you're being as heavily scrutinized as you are now.

“I’m not sure you know what you’re getting yourself into my dear.”, the butler says.

“I want this job.”

He sighs then and reaches for the cup of tea sitting on the table next to him. When you got to the Manor, Mr. Pennyworth had met you at the front step. He still ushered you through a side entrance and a winding set of narrow hallways until you reached the sitting room you were now in. Not that you were complaining about being treated like a servant when you were trying to like hell to land the job.

If ever there was an excellent place to kill someone, this was it. You find yourself thinking as you look away from him and study the art on the walls. The manor itself was far removed from society and the small windowless study with the ornate crackling fireplace was oppressive as much as it was impressive. No one would ever hear you scream.

“The issue is not a matter of want. The issue is a matter of need.”, he says.

You watch him take a sip as a bead of sweat collects at the back of your neck. It was getting too hot in here, and the bandage around your wrist was itching.

“I need it. No one wants to hire me”, You reply.

You’re not sure what you expect after you say that. Half of you were expecting him to start grilling you like he did during your interview two days ago. That one had taken place in daylight, in an ostentatious conference room at Wayne Enterprise's.

You were still waiting for him to pick you to the bone and say, “Why is that?”. The other half feels like the admittance makes you guilty. Guilty of going out that night. Guilty of getting caught in a crowd surge while blackout drunk. Guilty of the infected thralls that were unleashed by the Scarecrow goons. Guilty of killing the infected that had started ripping you to pieces. Not that you remember any of it, frustratingly enough. No one, not even the news, gave enough information on that night. Why was I there?

“How are you doing dear?” Pennyworth asks.

You blink. No one has asked that yet. Not by anyone that you feel genuinely wants to know the answer.

“Good. Sore, and I believe honesty is the best policy. I can’t dance like I used to.”, you joke.

It falls flat in the cramped space as you give him a tight grin. His grey eyes dart momentarily to the crutch that was resting next to the chair, and to the cast going slightly above your knee.

“Yes, honesty is such an important quality nowadays. Might I say, it is fortunate that you survived.”

“No one else thinks that. I’m just thankful that Duke was there. I was told he was the one that got me to the hospital. Now he’s gone and got me this interview.”

It’s funny. Time from that night seems disjointed. While you were black-out drunk, you do feel as though you were only in the club for five minutes. The attack happened at 12:45 am. You remember waking up in the hospital and finding your chart on your way to the bathroom. It said you were admitted at 2 am. The next time you managed to grab it, it had said 12:59 am. Not to mention your wounds were healing at a faster rate than most Omegas. Something was picking deep inside your skull.  

 “Luckily this job is not strenuous if you are up to the task.”

You nod at him. You need this.

“Well, there are rather strict rules. Breaking them is a breach of contract that will be handled severely. This isn’t like a regular job out there. Any problems that arise will not result in a simple firing.”, he pauses before continuing, “For example, personal electronic devices are prohibited in the Manor. Your bags will be thoroughly checked by me upon arrival. You will be allowed devices that are monitored by security.”

“I can’t just be cut off from my family”, you protest.

“We don’t want you to. You may make phone calls during your allotted time off. They will happen here, or in Master Bruce’s office with either him or me in the room. Your predecessor was fond of skirting her duties and we have found the need for such restrictions.”

“While excursions are discouraged, they are not prohibited. We will go over those security measures at a later time. You are to be readily available when called upon at any time they require something. While day workers are employed here, at no point are you allowed to interact with them.”

You can’t help the way your brows furrow. This was going to be a long year if you were to take this opportunity. With each rule, you wondered if this was why the position was empty for so long.

“I tend to the bedrooms, and at no point should you enter them unless invited by the occupant. You will be given a room as well, and I would appreciate cleanliness. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner are all served at the same time, tardiness is prohibited.”

“Will I be helping in the kitchen?”, you ask.

“No. Not unless you want to, if you are going to cook, please notify me accordingly.”

“So, wait. I’m confused. Just what is my job here?”

Alfred sighs and for the first time since you’ve met the prim and proper gentleman, he seems a bit haggard. Which did not make you feel good.

“It gets awful lonely here in the manor. As I’m sure you are aware, Alphas live for a long time. Particularly ones infected such as those in Wayne Manor. Now and then it is refreshing to have something that brings more life into such a place. The children have taken an interest in you, and that is enough for Master Bruce.”

“I’m not a toy.”

“No. You’re fortunately not. What you are being offered is room and board, all you have to do is adhere to the rules. In exchange, you have to be a friend. Surely you know how to do that”?

If he had asked your friend, he’d have been met with a resounding no. After that night you had found yourself crippled in the hospital with no friends to speak of. Your friend had been peeved, rightfully so, that you had just packed their wasted butt into a car with a stranger. You had been miffed because hello?? They weren’t the ones chomped on by a deranged rabid Beta. They had made it home in one piece, even getting past the front door and into their bed. Both of you had been wasted, so why act like it was all your fault? You were getting tired of the world treating you like you were the root cause of life’s issues.

“I won’t be doing any of that”, you ask.

Now he just looked downright uncomfortable. You were almost embarrassed, but the question needed to be asked. Being hired to be a friend to Alphas that were at least a century old likely resulted in you waking up in a bed that’s not yours.

“Only if you consent to it. You won’t be reprimanded for not doing it, or if you do find yourself in that position.”, he clears his throat, “Healthcare and dental is provided. Due to your circumstances as an Omega, blockers will be provided along with your daily vitamins. Your health and safety is paramount to us.”

You had nothing more to say. Silently you sat there, running through any alternative options, and yet you kept hitting a wall. There was no denying it, this was the best option you could be given. All you had to do was smile and nod and make it a year. By then you should be able to get your feet back underneath you and be able to reassess your situation. Who knows? You might just like it.

“I’m going to say, you have a deal”, you smile at him.

“Then please, call me Alfred.”

He gets up then and holds a hand out to you to help you out of your chair. His smile back is warm, creases folding up from his eyes, a drastic change from the cold persona that you had started becoming accustomed to.

“Shall I call for the town car Ms. (L/N)?”

This was the start of a beautiful friendship, you decided. You nod your head as he pulls you up and gives you a brisk but friendly pat on the shoulder.

“Duke, you don’t have to do this”, you protest.

It was the thirteen-hundredth time you’ve said it. When Alfred closed the interview, he had taken the time to walk you to the front door, pointing out so many rooms that it all went over your head. You almost made it to the front. Then Duke saw you and took over from there.

“No, no, and for the last time, stop. I want to do it”, Duke grins up at you.

He was on the floor, taping up the last of your boxes. You hate to admit it, but you’re not sorry in the slightest as he does all the heavy lifting. The best part about it was getting to see all the muscles in his back when he turned around. Yum. Hey, you were a red-blooded Omega. There were just some things you couldn’t fight.

“Be careful not to break that”, you warn.

“Right, because what will the world do without these little tchotchkes?”, Duke laughs.

Somehow, not surprisingly, he dodges the stray crutch that you toss half-heartedly in his direction. At this point, he was used to you trying to weaponize your “mobility aide”.

It all started when he helped you get back to your apartment, in a wheelchair that he bought. Then he abandoned said wheelchair and carried you bridal style up several flights of stairs. Citing that the elevator was too dangerous because it hadn’t been inspected in the past decade. Even ignoring you when you told him that it would be far more likely for both of you to fall to your death in the stairwell. This was all two weeks ago, and he still refuses to use the elevator.

He was on the floor now, humming and throwing your shit in boxes. You weren’t sure how he did it. When you agreed to the move, you had been internally wincing and panicking. Thinking it was just going to be you, hopping pitifully around the room. Probably taking breaks and reminiscing over the stray artifacts of your life. You would’ve needed at least three days max to get packed. Duke cut it down to two hours.

“Sooooooooo”, you draw out, “Tell me about the others.”

 “There’s not much to say, not a lot that I can either way. What do you want to know?”

Your eyes narrow as he turns weirdly evasive. He always got a little cagey when you brought up his adoptive family. Never quite answering the question.

“What are they like? Are they nice?”, you ask.

He pauses and stands, turning his back to you so he can put a box on the trolley. We’re going to take the elevator. You thought with a smug sort of glee at the realization. That means you’ll be in your wheelchair. See, you’re slowly reclaiming your independence. Sort of.

“Um. Cass is really nice, but you won’t see her often. Same with Steph. They both kind of do their own thing and no one lives at home besides Alfred, Bruce, and me. Though that might change.”

He pauses again. You stick your tongue out at his back only for him to whirl around to face you. Quickly you snap it back in and try to appear innocent as you stare up. Ew. Popcorn ceiling. You wonder for a second if you could have asbestos in your lungs from that.

“Dick, I mean Grayson, he oversees the training of the Alpha taskforce in Bludhaven. Jason avoids Bruce like the plague while doing the most to get his attention, and I can't really get into what he does for a living. You don't want to know. Tim lives and breathes at Wayne Enterprise’s various global sectors, some of the time, he’s the hardest to track. Damian has been somewhere in Pakistan. Where? I don’t know. I would avoid him and Jason if at all possible. Not that you'll likely see them."

You had to smother your cry of relief. This was going to be a lot easier than you thought. There were only going to be three people that you had to worry about. Maybe you were going to finally complete a New Year’s resolution now that you had time. The world was looking up for you.

“I think that’s it, are you ready?”

His question breaks off your train of thought. You can’t help but groan when he gets near you, arms outstretched, ready for a hug and humiliating you. To make matters worse, he says the worst thing possible.

“Up you go!”, Duke crows.

“No! To the chair! Put me down you overgrown bat!”, you say.

Thankfully he does, gently plopping you down in the cushy seat and stooping to ruffle your hair. You were hissing mad. Not that he cared. Just to goad you further, he reached over to the handles behind your back and rang the obnoxious little bike bell he attached to it.

“Run”, you warn him.

He laughs while sprinting with the dolly all the way to the elevator as you try like hell to mow him down. Both of you completely missed the way his phone kept blowing up with notifications, the small dings being mistaken for a bike bell.

[scarlethexelove]

How about a WandaNat fic where both are slightly dark and kidnap R. R isn't too worried about it though and soon grows to actually love both of them. Maybe something angsty with a happy ending 🙂

We'll Keep You Safe

Pairing: WandaNat x Reader

Word Count: 1546

Warnings: Domestic violence, kidnapping, allusion to drugging, murder, I don't think there is much else.

Part 2 Save You

A/N: First I want to thank @abbyromanoff for the help on a bit of the story idea. I was struggling to come up with how they get to the point so thank you Abby. Hope this is what you wanted I'm not really sure how much I like this one myself but I hope you enjoy.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

You run from your house. Your wife is screaming at you to come back but you don't, you just run to your neighbors house. They told you if you ever needed anything that you could come to them. So that is what you did. Tears streaming down your face, your right eyes almost swollen shut and a gash on your cheek. You cradle your right arm with your left pretty sure that your wrist is broken. 

This wasn’t the first time she hit you, but this was the worst. You said you would leave but every time you were about to she promised to change to never hit you again. All she did was give you broken promises. So this time you ran her anger being heard even as you got to the front door of your neighbors. 

You banged on the door with your left hand as you looked back, scared she would follow you. You kept knocking even as the door opened, startling you and almost hitting the woman at the door. “I-I’m sorry.” You stuttered out. 

The beautiful brunette looks at your concern and anger swirling in her eyes. “S-sh-she” you stutter more, not able to form words. “Help” your voice sounding so small, your legs giving out as pain starts to spread through your body. The adrenaline wears off making you feel the full force of your injuries. Wanda catches you in her arms slowly helping you to the ground and pulling you into her. 

“Natasha!” Wanda calls out to her wife. Natasha comes around the corner, as soon as she sees you there is fury in hers. Your face is buried in Wanda’s neck as you cry. Natasha tries to make her way past you both so that she can teach your wife a lesson but Wanda stops her. Instead Wanda passes you to her wife. Sharing a knowing look. Natasha cradles you in her arms and carries you into the living room sitting down with you on the couch. Burying yourself into her she holds you tightly as you cry continuously apologizing to her as you soak her shirt in your tears. 

Natasha shushes you as she rubs her hand up and down your back. Wanda making her way into the kitchen. A few minutes later as you start to calm down Wanda returns with a tray. A tea pot and some tea cups sit on the tray. She pours a cup for you. Natasha coxes you out of her neck as Wanda extends the cup of tea. You take it hesitantly and take a few sips. Both women give you a sad smile. 

“Honey, do you want to tell us what happened?” Wanda speaks gently as she sits down on the edge of the coffee table in front of you. You lightly nod your head before speaking. “I-I came home and Lila was pissed. S-she found the divorce papers I had hidden. I tried to tell her I wasn’t going to but she s-started hitting me. I-I ran here as soon as I could get away.” You tell the woman. “I’m scared.”

“We won’t let her hurt you again.” Natasha says. You can feel her anger but also her concern. You lay your head on her shoulder starting to feel sleepy and your body feeling numb. The pain fading away. Your body feels heavy as you try to speak again but no words come out. That is the last thing you remember before everything goes black. 

You blink your eyes open, your body feeling weak and heavy. It’s hard to keep your eyes open but you're able to look around. You are wearing different clothes which freaks you out. Did someone change you? What the hell happened? Why are you here? And where is Wanda and Natasha? All these questions run through your mind. Panic setting in.

You start to look around again. This room is not one you are familiar with. The walls are wooden and a few paintings scattered around. There is a bedside table next to the bed you are laying on. It is soft, softer than anything you have been on in a long time. One of your wifes punishments for a long time has been sleeping on the ground. You notice the water on the bedside table which makes you realize how thirsty you are. Your mouth feels as though you have cotton in it. So you reach out grabbing it, but as you bring it to yourself you drop the glass and it shatters on the ground. 

Just then the door swings open and you see a panicked Wanda with Natasha behind her. They both quickly rush towards you. “Are you ok? Did you hurt yourself?” Wanda questions quickly come up next to you grabbing your hands and looking you over to see if you have any new injuries. “Where am I? What are we doing here? Why am I wearing different clothes?” You send out a rapid array of questions to the woman.

Wanda gives you a soft look. “We brought you here.” She told you, placing a hand on your check which you flinch from before letting her touch you. “We had to get you away from her.” Natasha added as she bent down cleaning up the shattered glass. “H-her, y-you mean my wife?” You question starting to push Wanda away and scrabble out of the bed. She grips you tightly and doesn’t let you up. 

“Ow, Wanda you're hurting me.” You tell her as her grip loosens on your good wrist. That is when you realize that they have tended to your injuries and cleaned you up. “Sorry detka. We just want to keep you safe. We never want to hurt you. You deserve so much better than that woman can provide you. We just want to keep you safe and give you the love you deserve.” Wanda gently tells you, holding your hands in hers. You let yourself relax and stare at her. “She can never hurt you again.” Natasha adds sitting down next to you. 

You can’t help but admit that you have had a crush on the women since you met them, but you have a wife and they were married to each other. So you always push down those feelings, but sitting here with the woman feels just right. Natasha’s words echoing in your head which causes you to think. “What do you mean she will never hurt me again? You can’t know that. W-what if she finds me?” You quickly panic at the thought. 

“She won’t be a problem anymore Y/n I promise you that.” Natasha reassures you, but something still doesn’t sit right. “Did you hurt her?” You question the woman sitting next to you. You can see an evil glint in her eyes. “No one will ever hurt you again and no one will ever find her.” Natasha said, trying to lessen the blow to the fact that she inadvertently admitted to killing your wife. You should be scared and you should try and run from them. They did kidnap you and murder your wife but you can’t find it in yourself to do any of that. They seem to care so much about you and you wouldn’t be surprised if they actually love you. 

“I-I I don’t know what to say.” You stutter out. They have already done more for you and made you feel so safe in such a short amount of time. So you accept it. You accept that they have killed your wife and brought you somewhere to keep you safe. They have taken care of your injuries. Your wrist has been set, they cleaned your cheek. Your eye doesn’t seem to be as swollen anymore. They really care for you. 

“You don’t have to say anything Y/n we love you so much already and we just want to give you everything you deserve.” Wanda gently strokes the back of your hand with her thumb. Natasha leans in and kisses your forehead. “You mean the world to us detka.” Natasha adds. Tears spring into your eyes at their words. They do love you and they are gentle with you. A stark contrast to the life you have been living. So you let the rational part of you go and you listen to the warm feeling in your chest. Leaning your body into Natasha as she wraps her arms around you. 

You feel tired again, your body relaxing with the safety you feel for the first time in a long time. You can’t remember the last time you felt like this. As you relax into Natasha she starts to guide you to lay down. She shuffles you and herself back on the bed pulling your body fully into hers. Wanda slides in behind you and wraps her arms around your waist as she gently kisses your shoulder. 

“We have you sweet girl and we promise to never hurt you.” Natasha kisses the top of your head. Your tired eyes closing as you nuzzle into her chest. You can get used to this. Living safe and sound with two women who love and care for you. “I love you.” You whisper as you drift off into a deep sleep.