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cthulhus-curse · 2 months ago

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Hopeless

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3,077

Warnings: Dark!Milf!Natasha Romanoff, Mommy Kink, Dub-Con, Drugging, Minor Character Death, Graphic Descriptions of Gore, Kidnapping, Bondage, Ball Gags, Knife Play, Blood Play, Praise, Obsessive Behavior, Jealousy, Stalking, Murder, Scissoring, Fingering, Cunnilingus | 18+ Minors DNI

Summary: Natasha takes her time watching, humming, and preying upon her unwilling pet until at one point she snaps. Taking you away is what she sees fit.

Each day without fail viridescent eyes stared at you from across the street. Covered windows were no match for the hard gaze thrown your way, watching every move and breath you took. They were obsessed — pupils addicted, dilating whenever you dared step from the confines of your home into the world. With a hitched breath, she had to hold onto any nearby surface for support. The unknowing effect you had on your neighbor was catastrophic.

Never would she shake the feeling of love when it came to you. Regardless of how little you’d talked — slight exchanges of words in the morning, the time she took to rummage through her mailbox precisely scheduled to greet you. During each smidge of a second she spent with eyes fluttering across the street, she grew intoxicated, drunk in the liquor that was your existence.

For the most part she was able to keep her urges hidden away in the closet carrying a suitcase with all the pictures, toys, and items she had of yours. The obsessing unconsciously grew exponentially ever since you had moved into the neighborhood less than a year ago. Many times she found herself sprawled over the bed, her hand between her legs with slender digits shoved far inside her sex. With her children in school and her breadwinner wife off at work, the house was hers to haunt.

Weeks passed by and never did she break the incorrigible distance between the two of you. It was an unspoken deal — you were watched from afar and, in her belief, you tease her in return with your pretend innocence. For the images she had of you, there was no denying you wanted her. It was what she told herself each night she giddily went to sleep with a smile plastered on her features, eyes closed with her wife’s arms wrapped around her slim body — the image that it was you instead of the brunette woman got her through a peaceful slumber.

With a secrecy intact, she was content.

Until she wasn’t.

Due to the tending of the children, she was left to pick up after them right as they had left on the bus to school. Crumbs left on the table, food across the floor, she sighed. The small elementary school children were nothing if not messy, but she loved them dearly. They were one of the few things she adored in the boring dull life she carried.

Normally she was to grab the mail around the time the children left, but as she peeked through the front door, her body clothed with a pair of tight yoga pants and a sports bra, her eyes widened.

There stood her wife, who had taken a day off, laughing off across the street. She had gone out on a run long before, kissing the kid’s heads as she dropped off a goodbye. Rather than spend her time at home, the brunette had a hand on your upper arm, getting far too close to the one thing that caused her wife any happiness within her miserable life. The more the two of you interacted, the mightier the anger beneath the small woman grew. Her wife who whispered hotly in your ear, pushing her body uncomfortably close to your own, would not take away her property.

That was something Natasha refused to let slide.

It was a split-second decision fueled by fury, betrayal, and impulsively. From her younger years Natasha still had her favored stash beside your own. She struggled to keep her thoughts normalized, remembering with a foggy mind what the therapist had told her at the hospital all those years ago. Eyes closed, deep breaths, happy thoughts, but all that came to mind as she snooped through the closet was how far she’d have to lodge her knife inside her wife’s chest in order to bring her the most pain.

With her experience, it did not take long to have a body slumped over the entrance of the house when Maria arrived. The first had been at the ripe age of thirteen — a pair of girls, those who made fun of her, followed her home late on a school day. Back then she was easily prone to letting her anger slip away, which led to the disappearance of her fellow students. The acting she had put on at the police station for weeks was Academy Award worthy.

Years after that she allowed herself to grow, to obsess over others and take care of anything that sat in her way. For her violent outbursts she’d been sent to the hospital on two occasions, but never spoke a peep about that ledge of hers that oozed blood. It was her own little secret each time she snuck out from her dormitory in college to bury yet another bag of meat. Although such urges had ceased when becoming wed to Maria, the one who she once believed to be her true love, slipped through the cracks of her shell of a body upon your arrival in town.

Natasha allowed herself to enjoy the sight beneath her. The woman who she once loved lay battered on the hardwood floor, her ocean eyes lifeless as her skin took a pale hue. It was only accented by the various macabre gashes on her chest and stomach — 38 to be exact, one for each year Natasha had been on Earth. The pool of blood beneath the motionless cadaver was mesmerizing.

Bending down, Natasha reached out to brush a finger above the scarlet liquid, brushing away the masterpiece she had created. The bloody tip was plopped into her mouth, the woman groaning at the metallic yet wondrous taste of her favored treat.

“Not bad,” Natasha told herself, kicking her wife’s body mockingly while gripping the handle of her messy knife — she’d have to get a newly sharpened one if she wished to pay you a visit. “Sorry it came to this, baby, but I want a divorce. No one takes what’s mine. Guess you should’ve known better.”

Breathing in the scent of victory through her nostrils, Natasha relaxed. She always did feel alive and exhilarated when watching life blink away from a person’s frail body. Already she found herself excited for her next kill.

Looking out the window with her skin and clothes tainted with red, Natasha smirked manically. She eyed you through the glass, watching as you took your dog out to the front yard before returning back inside. The happy family she had always wanted would be started with you. All she had to do was rid herself of her ex-wife’s body before robbing herself a new toy.

“We’ll be together soon, detka,” she promised. The excitement she had was exuded all across the house. Long months of patient waiting would finally come to an end, and she had no one but Maria to thank. “I promise mommy will be there today. I’ll protect you from all the bad people.” She hummed when remembering to use the other special treat on you. “You’ll never be hurt by anyone but me again.”

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

With a wide smile, freshened up with a hint of a Channel No. 9 perfume after a much needed shower, and her confidence, Natasha strode to your door later in the day. She didn’t need to spend long there, although her hesitation came when she was met with a sight of you, she simply basked in your presence. The way you had appeared through the cracked open door made her swoon.

The expertise she carried got her to swiftly press her front against your back, a syringe’s needle tearing through your skin as she dumped the chemicals inside of you once invited into the house. Hugging you tight prevented your suddenly unconscious body from falling flat on the ground. Strong arms kept you up, dragging you away through the house until she reached the garage. Natasha didn’t imagine you’d mind if she dared take your car for a little ride.

She had to wait a few minutes after having dumped you in the car, knowing there was still someone else she had yet to take away. Natasha wouldn’t dare let her plan fall apart with silly mistakes.

Ropes were tied across your nude body, clothing torn off upon your arrival to the far away land she found solace in. Natasha took her time. She enjoyed every last second, the momentum building up as the drugs in your system washed away every so often. You’d wake up soon, but as a means to leave you all ready, she prepared your body for her to claim.

With such a large amount of free time in her life, being a rather quiet housewife stuck in the neck of suburbia, Natasha’s research had been intensive to make it all perfect for you. She had bought pink ropes which she carefully wrapped around your body. Each little knot made her grunt, breathing out harshly when getting your wrists tied to the headboard, your legs forcefully pried apart and unable to close no matter how much you fought – you’d be far too out of it to even move, but she place safety precautions all over as to never take chances.

Once the ropes were carefully placed on your body preventing an escape, Natasha went on to grab a special toy she had bought the previous week. The selection had been tough, but out of all the ones she found at the store, the woman settled for a heart ball gag, the collar of it a faux black leather tint as the heart dripped with a red hue.

Staring down at her handiwork, Natasha hummed. After countless months filled with insistent boredom, she’d finally get what she wanted.

“Wake up, princess. It’s time to open those beautiful eyes of yours,” she mumbled sweetly. Sitting at the edge of the bed, Natasha cupped your face, slapping it gently until she noticed you stirring. “Let me see you. You’re finally safe with me. Maria can’t hurt you anymore, detka.”

She had taken the liberty to remove her own outfit, the special reward she had hidden for you being far away in the basement. While her gaze dropped to your nude breasts, groping each of them perversely, biting her bottom lip to hold back a groan, your eyes fluttered open. You couldn’t place the walls that surrounded you, your vision gaining a smidge of clarity when noticing your neighbor sitting above you.

No matter how loud you tried to scream, all that came out were muffled noises of fear.

“I brought you to our lake house. Maria used to take me here every summer before we had the kids. I’m sorry we couldn’t do this elsewhere, but I couldn’t let them see you. They mean the world to me, just like Maria did, but baby you,” she shifted over the bed, a hand falling flat on your nude stomach leaving a dry bloody knife on top. “You are my world.”

Natasha tilted her head, eyes landing on the ropes that kept your legs pried apart and wrists attached to the headboard. Tugging at them, she hummed at how sturdy they were. Not the slightest movement could make the tight knots disappear.

“I’ve watched you for such a long time. It’s been so long since I’ve been touched by Maria, but it doesn’t matter anymore. She’s gone and you’re here. I’ve seen pictures of you, the ones I’ve taken I mean.” In her nude greatness, Natasha climbed over the mattress, positioning herself against you, her legs hooked with your own as your cunts ghosted over one another’s. “You have no idea how many times I’ve touched myself thinking of you. In the shower, late at night with Maria next to me…” Natasha’s dark eyes rolled to the back of her head. Groping her own tits, she let out a deep breath. “Oh Y/N!” Your name rolled off her tongue like honey. “Let me make you feel good. I want to watch you bleed under me. Oh I bet you’ve been thinking about this for so long. Your pussy is practically begging to be fucked. Don’t worry, darling, mommy’s here.”

Natasha breathed in your scent, mewling at how drenched you were. The fear in your eyes drove her mad, her own pussy oozing juices as she grazed it against yours. A hand grabbed the knife, wiping the blood against the sheets she’d forever treasure. Maria’s fluids meant nothing to her unlike your own.

There were sloppy attempts to move away, your eyes widened, tears trailing down your flushed cheeks leaving them wet with horror. All Natasha did at that was beam. She ghosted the dull part of the knife against your stomach. The tip was oh so close to you – so ready to tear at your skin and leave you a maimed mess. You couldn’t help but wish to bleed for her.

When you let out a particularly loud growl, still hearable with the gag on, Natasha was quick to lean down and press the blade against your neck harsh enough to leave a small red mark beneath. “Don’t make me hurt you, baby. Please, please don’t do it. I get really bad when I’m angry. Be a good girl for me and behave. I don’t want to do to you the same thing I did to Maria. Please.” She grinded her pussy against your own, moaning at the wetness she felt mixed with her own. “I don’t want you gone.”

Enchantment is all that soaked her body when urging her hips back and forth. Natasha allowed herself to bask on the arousal shooting through her, her clit garnering stimulation from your skin. To be filled up is what she wanted, your digits deep within claiming her as your own. She couldn’t bother untying you though, at least not until she broke you down and built you back up, molding you as her own relentless animal.

“That feels good, huh? You like mommy’s pussy, I can tell. Oh yours is so fucking wet, such a dirty baby,” Natasha giggled. She casually made little cuts along your chest. The knife was substituted by her lips, tongue sticking out to lick the small bouts of blood before she sucked you clean. Finally tasting your essence drove her mad, her brain rebooting as she found the words to speak. “So fucking good. Oh baby you taste divine. And look at how much you’re bleeding for mommy. I’m so happy you want me to have all of this. You’re truly special, my love.”

You didn’t do much by lying there, frozen in place while Natasha tore at your skin maniacally. Each cut forced a wave of heat to drift across your bones. They alternated from soft ones, merely scratches, to deep gashes that turned white before furious bouts of blood dropped out. Soon enough your chest, breasts she groped regardless of the wounds upon them, and stomach were covered in a fluid scarlet blanket.

Natasha was unable to keep up with all the blood, lapping at whatever she could while humping your cunt. Although you were unable to move, you still gave off slight thrusts, closing your eyes at the mix of pain and pleasure which overtook you. She didn’t dare stop for a second. All Natasha saw was red which she deliciously took in.

With a hand holding the dull part of the knife against you, the other drifted down between your bodies. The redhead alternated between stimulating your clit and her own, leaning back to better position herself to better fuck your pussy. Mesmerizingly, your blood drifted down her chin, hands coated with a similar fluid as she lost herself in you.

“Mommy’s close, baby, so fucking close. No one could ever make me feel like this. Only my pretty princess can play with mommy,” Natasha whimpered, her digits desperately flicking the bundle of nerves. The macabre nature of her actions was overtaken by her adorably scrunched up features. “And no one can ever touch my toy. You’ll never bleed for anyone the way you do for me. Just you and mommy against the world. Never forget that, Y/N.”

Natasha only took a moment to garner her breath when she came. Her back was arched, the excitement of the day fueling her need to let go. She nearly slumped down over your bloody body, but instead chuckled, staring down in awe with bloodshot green eyes that would forever haunt your dreams.

Knowing you were close to the edge, the older woman positioned herself between your legs. She licked her fingers clean from your blood before sliding them within your wet tight gaping hole. “My lovebug actually loves it when mommy hurts her,” Natasha noticed as she took in the warmth of your walls, digits pushing down your folds until she reached the depths of your cunt. “If I had known you’d be such a little minx, I would’ve taken you away sooner. I’m so happy that you want me back. Look at how well your pussy takes mommy,” she pointed out, mesmerized by the way your walls clamped down, juices springing from your cunt that sloshed with wet sounds at the slight movements. Leaning in, she lapped at your clit, swirling her tongue around and moaning as she tasted you. “Such a good girl. Oh we’re going to have so much fun together.”

Fingers didn’t stop fucking deep inside your sex until you came. Natasha was drugged within your juices, vigorously drinking them as though it was the Holy Chalice. When you did fall apart with an intense orgasm shooting through you, you were far too tied up to dare arch your back, settling instead for grunting against the gag as you fell apart. Your brain was far too gone with the mix of the drugs and your loss of blood to focus on the woman sitting at your feet.

With your own wife’s body stashed out, Maria herself back home with limbs cut and thrown in several trash bags, beaten to a pulp but still breathing, in the basement, Natasha was elated to train you. Perhaps you could use her favorite tool to take a life with your own hands. She knew it would be thrilling to watch, although the same could not be said for poor little Wanda who sat shivering naked against the concrete, her mind only upon you, relentlessly wishing for your safety.

#cthulhus’ fanfics #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff #black widow x female reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #dark fic #wlw #lesbian

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certaimromance · 2 months ago

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𝜗𝜚 The Boy Next Door.

Spencer Reid x Neighbor!reader

series masterlist

Summary: Making friends with your neighbor is one of the best things that ever happened to you, but falling in love with him? not so much.

Words: 4,1k.

Warnings & Tags: this is part of a series, check the masterlist to make sure you are in the correct chapter. painter!reader. lack of communication. the reader has a cat. two idiots so in love. bittersweet. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: I am very excited about this, long live friends to lovers and being Spencer's neighbor (my dream).

Being a neighbor to someone like Spencer Reid had been a blessing since the first day you packed boxes of your stuff into the apartment next to his. He was kind and handsome, very much so, if you were honest. Smart but reserved, even a little shy if you looked at him too much. But most importantly, he was the kind of neighbor who would never complain about your cat, who seemed to have a particular fondness for his balcony. Whether it was knocking over his potted plants or staring curiously at his fish tank, your feline’s antics never elicited more than a gentle laugh or a patient shrug. He would simply return your wayward pet with a soft knock at your door, holding it in his arms like it was the most precious thing in the world, while you apologized profusely, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

What started as brief exchanges, usually you stammering out apologies while he reassured you it was no trouble, gradually became longer conversations. The simple, polite “Hi, this is my cat, I’m so sorry” turned into casual talks about your day or his work, which he always spoke about in vague terms. And you, feeling so guilty for the inconvenience your cat had caused, decided to bake him cookies as a peace offering. They didn’t turn out quite as you’d hoped, slightly burnt around the edges, but Spencer didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he complimented their colorful sprinkles and icing, likening them to a painting by a famous artist. His sincerity disarmed you, and before you knew it, you were chatting about your love for art while he stroked your cat, his expression soft and attentive as though he’d known you forever.

So you didn't question anything and started to think of him as a friend. His nice actions with you were enough, and it was always good to have new friends, especially when they lived so close to your home.

It turned out that being Spencer's friend was a thousand times better than just being his messy neighbor, and it gave you some new things. Like a copy of the key to his apartment so you could water his plants and feed his fish when he was away at work. Plus, full access to his library, full of books with names you could barely pronounce, whenever you wanted, along with his coffee maker, which was so much better than yours, and was the perfect complement to a lecture in his comfortable sofa.

Books on philosophy, complex sciences, and psychological theories you had never heard of in your life. Each one had a colored heart-shaped post-it that Spencer had borrowed from your collection: pink for the ones you would love, yellow for the ones that might entertain you for a few minutes, red for the ones you wouldn't like at all, and purple for the ones that were in other languages, but he could translate for you if you just mentioned it. His dedication to introducing you to the world of reading was so great that he even convinced you to paint some bookmarks for him. And you took him so seriously that you made one for each of his favorite books, with paintings inspired by their contents.

Being Spencer's neighbor and friend meant having a shoulder to lean on while he helped you pay your bills and tried to fit your tight budget to cover your expenses. It always ended with two empty coffee cups on your kitchen table, your big fake smile as you tried to hold back the urge to scream because your art wasn't giving you enough to survive, his hands caressing your back and reassuring you that everything was going to be okay, that you could count on his help and his wallet if you needed it. And somehow, the next day, one of your paintings would mysteriously sell, and a bag of food would appear for your cat, as if by magic. You never had to ask, he always seemed to know when you needed a little extra help, always appearing with a gentle smile and a quiet offer.

It was one of those days when you opened the door, your hands still covered in paint, when you saw him standing there, holding a small bag of groceries. “I know what you’re doing, and I appreciate it, but it’s really not necessary,” you said, embarrassed. You couldn’t hide the blush creeping up your neck as you set the paintbrush down and gestured to the cluttered table full of half-finished canvases. You knew what he was up to—he’d done it before, slipping in to make sure you had enough to eat and that your cat had food.

Spencer’s cheeks flushed slightly, and he shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other, as though trying to figure out how to explain himself without embarrassing you. “I…I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable,” he started, looking anywhere but directly at you, “but I bought a bunch of food, and honestly, I won’t be able to eat it all. I have to work late all week, and it’ll go bad before I have a chance to use it. I thought…maybe you could use it?” He gave a half-smile, hoping it would soften the situation.

You blinked, surprised at how considerate he was being. Spencer wasn’t the type to try and make you feel bad, and you knew he was trying to help without overstepping. It wasn’t about charity, it was simply his way of offering support because he cared. You couldn’t help but smile at his sincerity, even if you felt a bit embarrassed about the situation.

“You don’t have to do that,” you said gently, trying to ward off the guilt that crept up on you. But he was already shaking his head, that familiar, apologetic look in his eyes.

“I know, I know,” he said quickly. “It’s just…I hate wasting food.” He paused for a moment, as if considering something. “And if you want, I can help organize everything in your fridge. You’re probably running low on space with all the art supplies and other things. I can make room for the stuff so it doesn’t go to waste.”

You glanced over at the chaotic state of your kitchen and couldn’t help but laugh softly, the sound both self-deprecating and amused. It was so true. Still, the thought of Spencer Reid—neat, meticulous Spencer—navigating your messy kitchen was both endearing and mildly mortifying.

“Okay,” you relented, wiping your hands on a towel. “That would actually be helpful. But don’t judge me for the mess, okay? It’s been…a lot lately.”

His face lit up with a small, genuine smile, his love for organization clear in the way his posture straightened. “I promise,” he said, his tone almost teasing, “no judgment.”

As he carefully unpacked the groceries, you found yourself talking without meaning to, your words spilling out like the colors on your canvas. “It’s just been hard,” you admitted, your voice faltering slightly. “I’ve been applying for jobs left and right, but nothing’s coming through. And art…well, it’s not exactly paying the bills right now. I’m barely getting by again.”

Spencer paused, a container of strawberries in his hands, and turned to look at you. His brown eyes were soft with concern and something else, something that felt like quiet reassurance. He placed your favorite fruit on the counter with care before speaking.

“You know,” he began, his voice soft but steady, “the last time we talked, you mentioned you used to babysit.” His words caught your attention, making you pause as you glanced over at him, unsure of where he was going with this. “Well, JJ—my friend at work—was just saying that she’s looking for a babysitter. She’s been trying to find someone reliable for a while, and I thought…well, maybe you’d be interested.”

You blinked, unsure whether you’d heard him right. Babysitting? It seemed like a lifetime ago since you’d done anything like that. You hesitated for a moment, running a hand through your hair. “I used to be a nanny when I was fifteen,” you said, feeling the weight of those words. “But, I’m not sure…I mean, I’m not exactly the same person I was back then, and I haven't interacted with kids in a while.”

Spencer’s lips curved into a reassuring smile, the kind that made you feel like you could take on the world if he believed in you. “I think you’d be great at it,” he said, his tone steady and confident. “And it wouldn’t have to be full-time. Just a few hours here and there, whenever you have the time. Besides,” he added, his smile turning a little playful, “I’m their godfather, so I’d be around if you ever need help.”

The idea of him being there, silently supporting you as he always did, made the idea seem less daunting and even a little tender, almost familiar. You nodded before you realized what you were agreeing to.

“Okay,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll think about it.”

His hand rested lightly on your shoulder then, his touch warm and grounding. When you looked up at him, his eyes were filled with a quiet intensity that made your breath hitch.

The possibility of refusing anything he asked you to do, with that perfect face that often reminded you of a tender deer, was impossible, and you had learned that over time. Just like the fact that it was completely forbidden to say out loud all the things you thought when you saw him. No extra sweet words, no overly long hugs, no thinking about the kiss you wanted to give him when he started to babble. And certainly no telling him how much you loved him, not when his gentle presence in your life was already more than you could have ever hoped for.

Being in love with someone like Spencer Reid was no blessing. Especially when his door was right next to yours and it almost seemed like you lived in the same apartment. Eating breakfast together when he wasn't out on a case for work, watching him make your favorite pancakes, and putting up pink candles to pretend it was your birthday when you were feeling too sad, and even a funny tuna cake for your cat's birthday. It was all too detailed, intimate, and personal to feel absolutely nothing for so long. Watching him slowly fall asleep on the couch while you watched a ridiculously romantic movie that you chose and he accepted because he was too tired to discuss it. He looked so relaxed, every one of his features softened, forcing you to run and get your notebook to sketch him, because he was a complete work of art. The same situation happened a thousand times; you almost had a whole notebook dedicated to him. But obviously he didn't know that, because he didn't know a lot of things.

And you were okay with that, even though it felt terrible to have to deprive a genius like him of so much information his brain wasn't even expecting.

Anything was better than watching him avoid you in the hallway, or worse, with you having to move somewhere else.

You could stand the love and desire building up inside you, and you did your best not to let it go. Maybe it wasn't the best or what you expected when you imagined what it would be like to actually fall in love with someone for the first time. But at least you had moments that gave you the energy to go on living. The hug and kiss on the cheek that he gave you every time he left for work as a promise to come back, the tender good morning messages in which he wished you good luck for the rest of the day, especially when you had a lot of things to do and he was not in a state to accompany you, or waiting for you after dinner with your friends so that you could tell him in detail what had happened, every gossip and new comment that unfortunately you now had to do over the phone. Especially this time, maybe it could not be like that.

One suggestion, coming from one of your closest friends, caught you completely off guard. “You should sleep with him,” she had said so casually, as if it were the simplest solution to an incredibly complex situation.

The words hung in the air like a joke that wasn’t really a joke. You looked at her, eyes wide, unable to comprehend what she had just said. “What?” you managed, voice a little too sharp, as you quickly wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.

She didn’t seem to notice your shock, leaning forward with a grin that could only be described as mischievous. “I said,” she repeated, “you should sleep with him.”

You nearly choked on your juice, coughing and sputtering as the words rang in your ears. “Are you serious?” you asked, feeling your face flush a deep shade of red. The words felt out of place, especially when the one person you were most careful about was the subject of this absurd suggestion. “I can’t just…sleep with him.”

“Oh, come on,” she insisted, not giving up. “You’ve been in love with him forever. You need to get it out of your system. It’ll help you move on, I promise.”

The words swirled around you, heavy and suffocating, pressing down on your chest like a tidal wave. Sleep with Spencer? Spencer? The man who had become such an intricate part of your life, the one who made every day brighter simply by being in it? You couldn’t even begin to picture it. It felt…wrong. It wasn’t just about the simmering desire or the longing that built up every time you looked at him. Spencer was more than that. He was a friend, a confidant, a constant in a world that had often felt uncertain. The thought of crossing that line, of turning everything you had into something fleeting, something physical, it made your stomach churn. It wasn’t just infatuation anymore. It was something deeper, something that had taken root and blossomed into something far more fragile. The idea of destroying that with a single reckless and hormonal decision? You couldn’t do it.

“No,” you said firmly, setting your glass down and crossing your arms as if physically rejecting the thought. “I can’t do that. It’s not like that with him.”

For a fleeting moment, your friend’s expression softened, but then the mischievous glint returned to her eyes. She leaned back, crossing her own arms in a show of exaggerated disbelief. “You’re seriously going to sit here and tell me you don’t think about him like that?” she challenged, arching a brow. “That you don’t fantasize about him? Please. You’re practically playing house at this point. Living next door, eating breakfast together, taking care of his godchildren, you’re practically married without the fun part.”

Her words were sharp, and they stung in ways you hadn’t expected. She wasn’t wrong, not entirely. You had thought about Spencer in ways that made your pulse race and your heart ache. You couldn’t deny that you fantasized about him, about what it would feel like to hold him, kiss him, love him in ways you hadn’t allowed yourself to imagine until now. But it was more than that. It was the tenderness in his eyes when he spoke of things that mattered most and the way he held you when things felt heavy.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair in frustration, your fingers threading through the strands with a kind of restless energy. “It’s complicated,” you murmured, feeling a lump form in your throat. “He is different, okay? He’s not just some random guy I’m trying to get over. He’s Spencer.”

“Then tell him how you feel,” she shot back, her tone laced with exasperation. “You’re not doing yourself any favors by keeping it all bottled up.”

You flinched, the words hitting you harder than you’d anticipated. “I can’t do that either,” you admitted, the confession falling from your lips like a stone sinking in water. “It would ruin everything.”

Your friend’s playful demeanor faltered for a moment, her teasing grin softening into something almost compassionate. But it didn’t last long. She leaned back in her chair, tossing her hands up in mock surrender. “Fine. Don’t sleep with him. Don’t tell him how you feel. Just keep sitting around, pining, and writing bad poetry in your head. But don’t come crying to me when you’re still hopelessly in love with him a year from now.”

Her words stung, even though you knew she was right in her own blunt, infuriating way. You opened your mouth to respond but stopped when your phone buzzed on the table. The screen lit up with a message from Spencer: Hope you have a good day. Something’s come up. I’ll be back late today.

You stared at the words, your heart sinking a little. He had a way of being so thoughtful in the simplest ways, even when his job pulled him away. It was one of the many things about him that made your feelings all the more complicated.

Your friend smirked, noticing the soft expression on your face as you read his text. “See? There it is,” she said, her tone equal parts teasing and affectionate. “If you’re not going to do anything about it, at least admit that you’re completely in love with him.”

Don’t come crying to me when you’re still hopelessly in love with him a year from now.

The words echoed in your mind even after you and your friend had parted ways, and even after several hours had passed, lingering in your brain like a buzzing that wouldn't go away even though everything inside you was screaming to make more noise and ignore it. It was as if he had opened a Pandora's box that you had been hiding for a long time, and it was something that made you feel small and foolish, lost in your own indecision. You tried to shake it all off, but his words kept echoing in your head, getting louder and louder. You couldn't confess. You couldn't risk ruining everything.

When you arrived at your building, your feet carrying you to his almost by inertia, you tried to distract yourself and do something nice: set the table, light some candles, and order dinner for two at a nearby restaurant you both liked. That had been your plan: a quiet evening together, the kind where you could pretend that everything was normal and there were no complexes on your mind. You knew Spencer would be home late, but at least he'd be there. You'd share a meal, talk about his crazy case, laugh, get so tired you'd fall asleep on the couch so he could carry you to his bed, sleep there barely touching, and then move on as usual. At least that's how you imagined it.

But as the hours passed, you realized something you didn't want to admit: He wasn't coming home anytime soon. At least not tonight.

The food was there, untouched. The candles flickered in the darkness, taunting you with their warm glow. The emptiness of the apartment reflected the feeling of emptiness gnawing at you. You sat on the couch and tried to distract yourself with your cell phone and grabbed a few books you didn't know from the shelf, but everything seemed strange. The clock on the wall was chiming louder than usual, each second getting longer and longer. Around two in the morning, you couldn't stay awake a second longer. Your eyes were heavy, and your mind was tired from the endless cycle of thoughts you had been wrestling with all day. Eventually, you drifted off to sleep, exhausted from the emotional toll of the day, the weight of your own feelings too much to bear when you didn't have Spencer or a canvas nearby to distract you.

You didn’t even hear him when he came through the door.

It wasn't until almost four in the morning that you awoke slightly, your body responding to the warmth and the soft sound of his footsteps approaching you. You found yourself curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, your head resting on the pillows and your neck aching. The dinner you had bought was still on the table, untouched, and the candles had long since been extinguished, taking away the warm, familiar atmosphere. The air smelled faintly of reheated food and something else, something familiar, something that smelled like him.

“Spencer…” Your voice was thick with sleep, the words barely leaving your mouth.

He smiled down at you, a gentle smile that seemed to reach all the way into your chest. “Sorry I’m so late…I didn't think you would wait for me,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “Work ran later than I expected.”

You nodded, still half-dazed, barely able to focus on his words. But then you felt the warmth of his hand on your shoulder, gentle but grounding, and everything seemed to fall into place.

“Why don’t you go to bed?” he suggested softly, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You’ve fallen asleep here.”

Before you could react, he picked you up and gently led you into his bedroom. The action was tender, so natural because it had happened more times than you could count. You didn't protest or move. Maybe it was tiredness, or maybe it was the way he made you feel so safe that you always wanted to fall asleep on his couch so he could hold you more, but you let him continue. You let him take care of you as he always did, even when you didn't ask him to.

As he tucked you into his bed, the soft sheets wrapped around your body like a comforting embrace, you murmured something tender and incoherent about him in your sleep, too far away to remember. The words poured out meaninglessly, fragments of meaningless thoughts: feelings, confusions, desires you had buried too deep to think you would ever say out loud. Spencer's hand brushed across your forehead, his thumb gently pushing away the strands of hair that clung to your skin and made you uncomfortable.

“Pretty boy,” you whispered, the words slipping out in your sleepy haze, a fragment of something you couldn’t quite capture.

Spencer’s soft laugh filled the space between you, the sound warm and comforting.

“I remember you said someone used to call you that; is that true?” you asked gently, a playful teasing tone in your voice. “You’re a pretty boy.”

“And you’re a sleepy girl,” he replied with a quiet smile, watching you drift in and out of consciousness.

“Pretty…” you murmured again, your voice barely audible, like a dream that was fading too quickly for you to hold onto.

“Yeah, pretty too,” he whispered, his voice low and rich with tenderness. His thumb traced your forehead one last time, lingering for just a moment before the weight of sleep claimed you entirely.

The bed shifted slightly as Spencer took off his shoes and climbed in beside you, his body warmth a comforting presence next to yours. He paused, just for a moment, to look at you with an expression so full of affection.

“Thanks for making this place a home, my pretty girl,” he whispered, his voice filled with a warmth that seemed to wrap around you like the sheets, even when you can’t listen.

Because he wouldn't have told you that if you were awake and aware, watching him with your bright eyes wide open. Not yet. Not if telling you meant facing the possibility that one day you might avoid him in the hallway or, worse, decide to move somewhere else. He couldn't bear the thought of losing you because he felt things he shouldn't have. Not you. Not his home.

Being in love with you, his neighbor and only friend outside of work, was one of the best and worst things that ever happened to him. To have someone who would wait for him with dinner even when you didn't know what time he'd be home, someone who would compliment him even in between dreams and manage to make him laugh, who would listen to him even when no one else would, and who would accidentally smear paint all over his clothes as a little reminder that you were real and not an impossible dream. He knew you were truly a miracle to someone as unlucky as he was.

Having you, even as a friend, was fantastic.

Sadly, what Spencer didn’t know, what neither of you could have known, was that this moment, this quiet tenderness and time sleeping in the same bed, would be the last time he would see you for what would feel like an eternity. At least for three more agonizing months.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #matthew gray gubler

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kusakiguzen · 4 months ago

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Hi, I don't know if your requests are open, but I was wondering if you can do a fluff headcannon with the monster trio (luffy, zoro and sanji), ace and law with a selective mute reader hearing them talk a little for the first time as they are getting comfortable with them please.

Hellooo thanks for stopping by!!!

A/N: I'm pretty sure I wasn't able to embody? the selective mutism condition better but I tried.. Soo yeah i hope you enjoy?

Selective mutism

Selective mutism is a complex anxiety disorder that affects an individual’s ability to speak in certain social situations, despite being able to communicate freely in other settings. It is not a matter of “choosing” to speak or remain silent, but rather a phobic response to specific people or environments.

Luffy

You joined the crew during the Alabasta arc, being the younger sister of Vivi and the second princess of the kingdom.

Responsibilities were piled on you when your sister had left making you too busy to do anything.

Sir Crocodile's rule and the Rebel army were giving you a headache and on top of that you had to protect the kingdom.

You had offered yourself to crocodile as exchange to letting your sister go and he agreed.

He left scares, deep scars both emotional and physical, Robin did try to help you but there was only so much she could do.

When your sister returned and recued you, she was horrified seeing your condition, malnourished, abused and littered with wounds. The eyes that once shone lost all their light.

It didn't help that the Marine put bounty on you for god knows what reason.

This caused Vivi to make a difficult choice... To send you away with the Straw Hat crew.

She already spoke to all of them and the reluctantly agreed.

You joined the crew and you helped out in the brains department but never spoke, making the crew believe that you were mute.

Which didn't add up since Vivi told them you used to make speeches often in place of your father.

You on the other had were scared shitless because even if your sister trusted these people you didn't. They were pirates just like Crocodile.

Slowly you started trusting them but still not enough to speak. You also started to develop feeling for your goofy and idiotic captain.

It wasn't long after that your captain popped the question asking you to be his girlfriend, Kudos to Nami who explained to the idiot that he was in love with you.

He never pushed you to speak since he genuinely believed you were mute.

You still didn't speak. Even in Sabaody when you were sent away by Kuma. Leaving an absolutely heartbroken Luffy behind.

Then came the Marine Ford incident and you were absolutely devastated for Your boyfriend and completely ignored his wish to stay away for two years and made your way back.

You met Raylight who took you to Luffy after much begging and practically bowing and holding his feet. He was going to take you to Luffy anyway and panicked hard when you knelt and grabbed his feet.

You arrived at the Island where Luffy was supposed to be training and the moment you saw him, you bolted towards him bringing him into tight hug.

Leaving him in surprise when you started to whisper apologise and and 'I love you-s'

He looked at you shocked and then soon crashes his lips in yours. After the kiss, broke down in your arms while you whispered sweet nothings in his ears.

It was the first time he heard your angelic voice but it certainly won't be his last.

Now he always asked you questions and would not sleep until your whispering in his ears

He had became addicted to your voice and he was also glad that he was the first one to hear it.

P.s. He worked even hared to hear you praise him.

Zoro

You were rescued by Zoro.

You were a slave to the celestial dragon, who would punish you f you spoke making you afraid of speaking in front of them.

There were a few fellow slaves you conversed with but with them to it was only a few words and at most a few sentences.

Zoro had taken you away when his captain punched your master.

He brought you back to the ship and took care of you. Feed you, made you drink water and even bathed you but was stopped by Sanji along with Robin and Nami.

The two women were the one who washed and dressed you.

It took you a while to understand that you can do whatever you wanted and not have to wait around to be ordered.

You finally started to feel comfortable enough to ask the crew members for thing, in writing since you were still scared to speak up.

You stuck with Zoro, following him everywhere. Which at first he found annoying but later he thought you were absolutely adorable.

He developed feeling soon enough, And confessed which you accepted since you felt comfortable with him.

You still didn't speak and relied on writing.

But one day you craved the Sundae that Sanji had made for Nami A few weeks back.

So you asked Zoro to bend down a little and softly spoke that you wanted "that weird thing that Sanji gave to Nami"

He looked at you dumbfounded and when he finally processed what happened, he picked you up and spun you around with a huge smile on his face.

You were surprised when he did that and also confused, he soon bought you closer placing his lips softly on yours, still smiling.

He boasts about how you only talk to him and no one else till you actually start to everyone ( with the help of Zoro).

He loves hearing you praising him and sometimes flexes even more just to hear your soft voice excitetly tell him about how cool he is.

Also loves it when you call him nicknames like "honey" and "darling".

P.s. He also forced Sanji to Make like 5-6 Sundaes for you and double the food you ask Sanji to prepare. Also buys you alot of things ranging from clothes to jewels with Nami or Robin's help.

Sanji

You met him before he joined the crew,

Stranded and starved without money you stumbled across the Baratie Restaurant, they were kind enough to give you food and refuge.

You joined work there soon enough.

Sanji was kind but he was also flirty with other women hence you didn't read much into it.

But feeling develop and you fell, often found yourself jealous of the women he flirted with.

Then came the incident that made him join The Straw Hats pirates.

You were scared that if he left, he wouldn't come back. But all those worries dwindled into nothingness after Luffy asked you to join them, curtsy to Sanji who had kept it as a condition for joining the crew.

Sanji loved you, there was nothing anyone could say to deny that fact. He flirted with women after meeting you, but it was only to see your reaction to confirm if you had feeling for him too.

You were asked to be his girlfriend soon after joining the crew, but yo were hesitent given his history of him fliting but you accepted none the less.

Sanji did a complete 180 after he started dating you, meaning no flirting with other women or simping for them. You were the apple of his eyes, his goddess.

He too never forced you to speak, because he believed that you were mute, and the reason you comunicated through writing sometimes.

The first time you spoke to him was when you both were enjoying the beautiful moon alone, accompanied with comfortable silence.

It was a simple "I Love you" and " Thank you for being patient with me"

After he heard you speak he actually thought that it was his mind playing games considering he believed you couldn't speak. But when you repeated your words again with a soft smile, He brought you close initiating a soft and passionate kiss.

Safe to say he cried but reassured you that it was happy tears since you were panicking thinking you did something wrong.

He noticed that you only spoke when you were both alone or soft whispers if you couldn't get Sanji in privacy.

He was overjoyed and even helped you open up to others with futile effort but he was patient

He would whisper praises and reminding you how much he loved you and you reciprocating.

P.s. The first time the crew heard your voice was on the Whole Cake Island when Sanji was said to marry Pudding. Oh the colorful words you said sent shivers down every one's spines, and not in a good way. It took Sanji a long time to be forgiven.

I literally cannot come up with scenarios for Ace and Law right now for some reason. So I'm posting for these three right now and will post for the other when I do get an Idea worth posting.

And I'm sorry if I got the selective mutism wrong.

I still hope you will enjoy.

Stay Safe Heathy and Hydrated!

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girlokwhatever · 9 months ago

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will there be a part 3 to meet the martins? 👀

there will be many parts 🤭🤭

๋࣭ ⭑༊*·˚𐦍༘⋆‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ welcome to vegas,,

(part three of the meet the martins series)

kate martin x fem!reader

the move to vegas was… difficult to say the least.

moving halfway across the country was never easy, especially when you were leaving all but one thing behind. you felt like the time you had to say goodbye to your childhood was unfulfilling due to your attention being pulled elsewhere. every second was spent packing valuable possessions or planning flights instead of giving your family a proper goodbye.

kate did everything she could to alleviate your stress. she could tell you were losing sleep, too fixated on whether or not everything was in order. there’d be moments when kate would have to comfort you late at night, whispering sweet nothings in your ear to coax you into relaxation.

both of your family’s gave an emotional farewell at the airport as you boarded your flight. numerous ‘i love you’s and ‘good luck’s had been exchanged, everyone contagiously sharing their affections with kisses and hugs as well.

kate never took her eyes completely off of you, always preferring to have you in arms length once you started to board the plane. she’d give you a few sneak kisses every now and then to comfort you and herself. she was beyond nervous too. she’d been at iowa for countless years, meeting amazing people and building friendships she hopes will last a lifetime. but kate knew if you had you by her side, nothing else mattered.

after a long week of planning and prepping for this moment, you and kate were finally seated and on your way to vegas. it was a surreal feeling, a little sad but definitely exciting. your fiancé noticed your nervousness more than anything, slight worry etched on her own features.

“you’re not having second thoughts right?” she jokes, but part of her is genuinely asking.

“of course not kate.”

“okay good, cause you’re kinda stuck with me now.”

kate playfully shrugs, a big smile on her face as she looks at you. now that the hard part is over (saying goodbye to your family), you feel a bit more at ease. kate’s presence and enthusiasm has that affect on you usually, it’s one of the things you love most about her.

“kate baby, ive been stuck with you for awhile now. i wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

her smile grows uncontrollably at your words, feeling the heat rush to her cheeks. kate knows she hit the jackpot with you and she’s very honest about that to anyone who asks. that’s why she never second guessed her choice in proposing to you or asking you to live with her. she just knew you were the one.

hours passed with hushed whispers and laughter, the two of you striking up random conversation to help pass the time. kate had always been the best flight buddy. in between naps you watched movies and ate random snacks the flight offered all while kate rested on your shoulder.

it was nice.

it was almost midnight when you landed. during the last few minutes of the flight you gawked at the las vegas lights, purples and yellows decorated the skyline to create a beautiful welcoming view. in the not so far away distance you could spot the ‘welcome to fabulous vegas’ sign.

the light alone brought you out of your groggy state, eyes immediately widening in awe. kate pulled you out of your seat, hands on your waist as the two of you walked out together to get your bags. you almost fell asleep again just waiting for them to show up. the whole time your back was pressed to kate’s chest, your head lolling back into her collarbone as she snuck her arms around your midsection to hold you close.

“hold on baby, i see your bag.”

kate pulls away from you and takes her warmth with her, leaving you standing alone. your eyes follow her path to the luggage, not being able to control your wandering eyes as she bends over to pick your bag up out of the masses. once she returns you fall back into your previous position leaning against her. your fiancé kisses the top of your head a few times, rubbing smooth hands up and down the length of your torso. you’re almost standing asleep but she pulls away once more because she finally spotted her bag.

time after that went by quickly, one blink and you were already at kate’s new apartment. she was beyond excited to show you the new home you’d be sharing with her. you’ve already seen it over the phone when she had looked into buying it but never saw it in person until now.

kate wanted you to feel comfortable here. that’s why she brought all your favorite miscellaneous items from home to place here, littering the space with notes of you. pictures of you and kate were scattered throughout and it made your heart warm to know she took the time to print them out and find the perfect frame.

“i know it’s a bit empty right now but i wanted us to go furniture shopping together so…”

“it’s okay kate, i love it so much already.”

kate closes the already-small gap between you to seal a kiss, hands gentle as she pulls you in closer by your waist. you could feel the last of your worries wash away, only having enough room to hold your love for kate.

that night kate showered you with love, immediately pulling you into bed once your pajamas were on.

most of your time before sleep was spent lazily making out, holding each other while wordlessly melting into one soul filled only with love. you were molded into the sheets with kate as your limbs tangled together into a knot. you could hardly breathe, only finding few seconds where kate would let you pull away.

she needed you. she needed to know that you needed her too.

once she let you part from her swollen lips she admired you in the dim light. she wanted to keep you like this forever, messy and lovestruck in her bed.

“i’m really glad you’re here.”

“i’m glad to be here.”

kate really couldn’t help it when she started crying. you followed her movements as she sat up, face hidden deep in her hands. you weren’t aware yet of her state but her sudden change concerned you.

“kate?”

“yeah?” her voice was meek, so quiet you could hardly hear her.

“baby what’s wrong? are you okay?”

“i’m fine, really. im just.. so happy. i can’t even believe you’re real and we’re going to be married. you’re my biggest dream come true, y’know that right?”

her words leave you speechless. kate’s always been a big softie, constantly saying sweet things that leave you breathless and in awe. this has to be one of those moments because it makes you fall even deeper in love with her, appreciating the peace her words bring to you.

“kate, this is my dream too. you’re my dream. i can’t wait to be your wife and spend the rest of my life with you, i swear.”

“you swear? like a pinky promise swear?”

“yes, a pinky promise swear.”

kate finds herself pulling you in for the millionth time that night. this time her kiss is targeted and firm, wanting to really show you how much you mean to her. you can feel her conviction, especially when she cups both of her hands tenderly around the sides of your face.

your first night in vegas with kate— the first night of your new life— was spent in the embrace of the woman you love most. the same woman that gave you love and helped you find some sort of purpose. you were both confident that almost every night following would be spent the same.

it was your vow to love kate forever.

welcome to vegas!

๋࣭ ⭑༊*·˚𐦍༘⋆‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

OK INTRO TO VEGAS DONE (but not spell-checked 🤭)

what do you think is next???? 😏

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circeyoru · 1 year ago

Text

You Think It’s That Easy? = Requested

[Yandere Human!Alastor x Arranged Marriage!Reader]

The Request (1) + (2)

Part 2 is out, please check Masterlist for the link

I supposed that it would be heavily implied that Reader here is female, cause I can’t imagine Alastor’s time letting male and male into a marriage. Sorry to my male readers!

A friendship between families is not something to be happy about. At least, to the children of the two families it isn’t

“Darling, meet Alastor, for now you two aren’t of age yet, but in time, you two will be married.”

That line was what chained you down to another without room for rejection or say. Luckily, Alastor himself wasn’t keen on the idea as well, so whenever you two were out of your parents’ sights, you two were off to do as you please

Your parents ran a successful shipping company, leading them to be absent throughout your childhood. They sent you to live with their friend, Alastor’s parents, later the idea of marrying you two was formed. Alastor’s father ran a factory, producing metal and machinary, so he was well off. There wasn’t a thing out of place, except maybe the greedy he has to money

With the lack of parents, you had to rely on yourself and you had plenty of private lessons to prepare yourself before going to going to school. You saw Alastor’s father as a sinful man that leeched off of your parents’ fame. The idea of marriage was mainly from him as well, since he wanted more compensation on top of what was given to him while taking care of you

Alastor was more of a mama’s boy, as you took notice. Very obedient to her, yet when it came to his father, he was much like a doll. You also saw his father as abusive, though he played the kind and sweet father figure when you were around, when you were out of sight, his switch is flipped. You leaned to Alastor’s wounds when you caught him reaching for a med-kit in the dead of night

The two of you made your peace with the arranged marriage after sometime spending at school. You two also thought of just going through with it since either of you found ‘love’, nor did you two want to disappoint your parents

A glorious wedding day supposed to be the best day of one’s life was a dull ceremony for you and merely a formality for Alastor. Vows spoken with the intent to break, rings exchanged as mere jellewery, and a kiss shared just as a performance on stage. Somehow, the smiles on your respective parents’ face was worth the trouble

You two moved out and lived in a mansion that was affordable. You two slept in separate rooms, nearly nothing was shared. The situation was much like a roommate. Nothing between you two suggested that there was the concept of ‘love’

Though an odd friendship of mutual acceptance and private support was formed. While you both had your fair share of friends and connections, you knew you could always rely on the other for anything because you’ve known the other your whole life and seen the ugly side of the other and accepted it

Like when Alastor’s father was accidentally killed in a factor fire and his mother passed away from an incurable disease not long after. Or your parents that died from a shipwreck while out at sea during a vacation you refused to go. During these traumatic times, while people around you two tried to claw at you, the other would protect and be a source of comfort

That’s why you two agreed to have the marriage stay in tact. It will be broken off when either one finds a partner that was ‘true love’

And that time came faster than imagined. You found that love you wanted, you didn’t tell anyone, opting to keep it a secret. You had a face to put on, so does your love. You knew Alastor would understand, in fact, he’d be ecsatic for you. Since this meant he would be free of this playing house game. You honestly figured Alastor had a lover of his own as well, since he returns home so late and would immediately head to the showers to clean before falling asleep

Everything planned for your leave, you didn’t inform Alastor and thought it was fine for you to just leave with your love. You did and none was the wiser. As a form of curtsy and thanks, you left Alastor a great sum of money, a letter of farewell, your wedding ring and signed marriage divorce papers. If he wanted, maybe you two could do on a double date?

While you were happy and dandy with the arrangement, Alastor found himself unable to go through with it when that time come. His hands crunched up the letter and he shoved away all that money. You see, he never expected it, but he fell for you in a way it wouldn’t be considered normal. You were someone he just want to let go

Starting that factory fire was easy, call it a trial. He hates his father, yes, but he also wanted to see if you’d break off the marriage since his father was the one to suggest the idea. But you didn’t and offered him a shoulder to ‘cry’ on, he realized then, that he prefered your presence other than his mother’s

“Alastor, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright, My Dear. Accidents happen all the time.”

“No, it’s not!” You suddenly hugged him out of nowhere, you knew perfectly well of his aversion to touch, yet you hugged him tight and provided your shoulder, “Don’t hold it in, Alastor. It’s not good for you. I’ll be right here for you.”

Slowly, Alastor returned the hug. His arms wrapped tightly against you, he let his face bury between your neck and shoulder and forced tears out. When he felt your hands patting the back of his head and soothing his back, a sickly grin formed. He likes this.

He realized his love for you when you mentioned some unsatisfactory suitors that approached you even when your wedding day was near. He killed a few and faked some accidents there. Then he had that was your parents that wanted to stop the wedding since his father was dead and you didn’t appear interested in him

So he found some people with a grudge against your family and planned an accident during their vacation. He appeared as your knight in shinning armour when those some people targetted you. He catched them away, but he just had to off them for attempting to harm you. There, after everything blew off, he offered his hand in this staged marriage as a form of support to you. You needed a husband to rely on, even though you have the money, a lady such as yourself can’t last long alone

The moment you accepted, he got to work. Rooms changed to a shared bedroom, you two would appear as a couple in cafes to enjoy meals and breaks. Everything to make it seem like you two were truly a couple instead of what happened before

Alas, his time with you was very limited. With his popular radio shows and nighty activities, he couldn’t keep up with you. But in his eyes you didn’t change much, so he continued. He noticed you were happier, but when you didn’t tell him anything, he didn’t know what was happening. He assumed you had a successful deal made or the like

“Darling! Dear! I’m home!”

But all that returned his greeting was the empty silence of the mansion.

To think you found your love without telling him. He was careful to eliminate any potential lovers of yours. How did he miss this one?! He’ll admit he was busier than usual, but he had been keeping an eye on you. What went wrong?

As dramatic as it sounded, he felt like his life was sucked out of him when he saw the papers on the table. The flowers he brought, which were your favourite, and the ingredients he brought to make your favourite meal were long discarded on the floor. He left work early to celebrate your anniversary with you and you left?

He scrambled up his and your shared bedroom, your personal belongings and stuffs were all gone. He went to his study, your files, documents, and books were all gone. He went to the kitchen, your favourite kitchenwares were gone too. His knees gave out beneath him, you truly left. You left him

“I wish you a happy life with your lover, Alastor! Don’t mistreat her! And it’s not proper to stay out too late into the night, Alastor~” Those inferno words that taunted him. He could practically hear your voice teasing him from the letter. Did you think he had a lover too? How could he when he loves (is obsessed with) you?

Blasphemy!

The next day, ladies were eager to comfort him and console him. The news of his divorce and that he was a free man was all over town, no doubt something you did to ensure that he and his supposed ‘love’ can be together in public. He was in no mood to entertain them

Alastor buried himself in his work, radio broadcasting and killing. As much as he wanted to hunt you down and kill whoever stole your heart from under his nose, he can’t. The two of you were famous in your own rights and it would cause quite the scandal that both of you might not recover

So he took out his witchcraft book. Binding souls request both souls’ blood and hair, he had collected yours beforehand. A sacrifice, the body in front of him will do well, it was the some person that tried to copy you and earn his love

He’ll see you in Hell and when he does, Alastor will not let you go

Note: Another story that's not {Unwanted Soul}! I'll probably continue that one when all the votes are in. At least, the new plotline will be like that.

Since this request was a long time ago, I went and made it longer than others. Hope you like this one in the meantime!

Circe Y.

Other Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist:

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wholoveseggs · 1 year ago

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HIYA GORGEOUS!! I absolutely adore all that you write and here I am once again to request something (tbh I’ll always be here to request things 🤭). So I’d like to request…

y/n (aka me) is Elijah's best friend but she's never met Klaus, only heard about him. one day she surprises Eli for his birthday so she walks in the compound, not knowing that Klaus is there too. she and Elijah exchange hellos then talk for a bit and before they can leave (Elijah is subtly trying to rush her out), Klaus hears her voice and comes downstairs. I'll leave the details to you but she and Klaus instantly hit it off so much so that it makes Elijah jealous (he's always had a thing for y/n but never said anything be he's afraid of losing their friendship). again, leaving the details to you. can we make it a 2-parter? 1 is jealousy/angst w/ implied smut between y/n and Klaus & 2 is Elijah confessing to y/n his feelings which lead to their first time sex and possible future relationship.

Sorry love if this is too much, it's okay if you're not up for it though! Thanks for even indulging me! 🤍

Mine

THIS SCENE MAKES ME GO FERAL

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Part One

A drunken hookup with Klaus complicates your friendship with Elijah, leading to an awkward morning after.

♡♡ Thanks for the request sweet Aurora!! This one was a blast to write. But implied smut with Klaus??? Nahhh. No half-measures here. This is for all my Klaus girlies. You can't fix him, but you sure can fuck him. ♡♡

5k words - Warnings: smutttt {with Klaus}, rough sex, mild choking, Klaus being the drama, Elijah hiding his feelings & Rebekah judging you.

{Part Two}

You came rushing through the gates of the compound, carrying so many shopping bags that you could barely see. Your arms felt on fire, but a little strain was worth it all when you remembered who you were doing this for.

Tonight was Elijah's big birthday bash, put together by you and Rebekah, and you wanted everything to be perfect. Elijah had become one of your closest friends, and this celebration was your chance to show him how much he meant to you.

"Eli, I have so much stuff for the party. Where should I put it all?" you ask once you got far enough into the house.

Elijah emerged from the grand living room and came into the foyer to help you. He had an odd look on his face, but you couldn't really pinpoint it exactly. He took the bags from your arms and carried them himself.

"Don't look in them! I want it to be a surprise!" You said, putting your hands over his eyes and guiding him towards the table.

Elijah chuckled, "Fine, Fine. Are you sure all of this is necessary?"

"Absolutely." you said, uncovering his eyes. "You only turn 1040 once," you joked, causing the pair of you to laugh.

It was over-the-top as shit, but a girl had to take any opportunity to give a Mikaelson a birthday they would remember, and then some.

Elijah's smile faltered a bit as he looked around the courtyard nervously. "Will you be returning home to get ready for tonight?" He asked, trying not to sound hopeful.

"I'm actually getting ready here with Bekah, why? Have a hot date you are hiding from me?" You teased, unaware of the way Elijah's body stilled at your words.

"Oh no darling, no date, just a brother he wants to hide," said an accented voice from the second level balcony.

Elijah let out a rough sigh as you turned to see Klaus stepping down the stairs towards you both.

You had heard of the legendary hybrid of course, but since you met Elijah you had yet to run into him. In fact, this was the first time you had seen Klaus in person and were unaware of the true look of him. Which made you almost go weak in the knees.

He was hot, like 'fuck me right now hot' and it took everything in you not to drool. It didn't surprise you, all the other Mikaelsons were extremely attractive, so it only stood to reason their infamous hybrid brother would be also.

You could tell by the look on his face he found you just as attractive, and with a devilish smirk, he seemed to say ‘I will fuck you right now if that's what you wish’

"Hello love, it's a pleasure to finally meet you," he drawled before bringing your hand up and kissing it softly.

You wanted to hate him. Klaus had been notorious for so long for his tantrums and viciousness. But one look and just a touch from his lips and you knew you were doomed.

"T-Thanks," you said, pulling your hand back.

Klaus tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and ran a thumb across your cheek.

"Are you blushing for me? Can't say I blame you, love," he said cockily.

Elijah rolled his eyes at his younger brother's antics, but as Klaus lingered on your skin he felt a stir of possessiveness settle in his bones. He cleared his throat, shooting his brother a glare,

"I would love some help setting up the party for your brother," you asked Klaus, hoping to spend more time with him, his charm quite intriguing.

"It's alright, I can help you," Elijah insisted, not wanting Klaus to interact with you for a multitude of reasons.

"It's supposed to be a surprise for you Eli,” you pouted, which caused Elijah to soften at your cuteness.

"I've got it handled, Eli," Klaus teased, emphasizing the nickname you used for him.

Elijah looked between the two of you, clearly wanting to decline your request and keep you both apart. But alas, for some reason, he couldn't come up with a legitimate reason.

Klaus grabbed your bags and walked off, you began to follow, turning back to give Elijah a wide smile. "See you tonight, birthday boy," you exclaimed happily before hurrying off after the younger Mikaelson.

You spent all afternoon decorating with Klaus, who insisted you call him Nik. He was somewhat sweet but full of himself. Yet, you enjoyed his company, he had a good eye for décor and matched your vision effortlessly.

"Have I accomplished my mission?" he asked. He brought a champagne bottle up, pouring two glasses and giving you one.

You leaned against the pillar with him and clinked your drinks together. "I'd say so, yes. Thank you so much for helping me."

"It was no trouble at all," Klaus said, then smirked at you over his glass. "You are quite stunning, love."

You grinned at his comment, "you should see me after I get all dressed up for tonight," you flirted, even though it sounded more like a challenge to him.

Klaus downed his drink then placed it on the table. Without warning, he pinned you to the pillar and trapped you against him. "Oh I plan on doing more than looking tonight," he said as his hungry eyes traveled over your body.

"I see you two have finally met, how wonderful," Rebekah commented, disrupting the moment.

You laughed nervously, glad for the interruption, gently pushing Klaus off of you. As much as you wanted to jump Klaus then and there, something held you back. And you knew what, or rather, who was keeping you from acting on your desires...

"We were just having some champagne," you tell her, taking another drink.

"I see that, the decorations look amazing by the way," she complimented as she poured herself a glass as well. "Catering has arrived, they are setting everything up downstairs," she informed you, letting you know you should probably get ready.

"I'll go get dressed then. Thank you again, Nik." You smiled at him again, and he grinned in response.

"I think I'm owed a dance for my hard work," he told you as you walked away with Rebekah.

You looked over your shoulder at him and gave him a wink, excited for the party to begin.

Once you were upstairs and away from Klaus, Rebekah spoke quietly to you. "Be careful with him, he's not like Elijah," she warned you.

"No one is like Elijah," you chuckled a bit, ignoring the pang of sadness you felt at the realization you would probably never be with the older Mikaelson.

The two of you spent your time getting ready, sipping on champagne and discussing the numerous guests who would be arriving. You got a little too buzzed, but you were excited and also needed some courage to face an unknown quantity of vampires.

Rebekah always had impeccable taste, helping you pick out a skin tight dress that came a few inches above your knees and accentuated every curve on your body. Adding even more with the tall black heels you slipped on, showing off your legs.

"I'm afraid I might have gone too far," Rebekah chuckled as she applied your makeup, making you look smolderingly hot.

"You think?" You asked sarcastically.

"You look like vampire bait and I'm sure it's going to drive him mad," she snorted, taking another drink.

"Who?" You looked at yourself in the mirror and fixed a smudge of lipstick.

Rebekah gave you a knowing look, but stayed quiet and you just smiled back at her innocently.

When everything was ready and all the guests started arriving, you and Rebekah made a grand entrance into the main parlor. Elijah was talking with someone when his eyes caught you across the room, you wandered over to him and gave him a big hug.

"Happy birthday," you whispered in his ear, as his arms pulled you tighter to him.

"Thank you so much," he said, pulling back just enough to smile at you, his face growing even brighter when he really looked at you.

You noticed the way his eyes traced your figure, taking you all in. The way they darkened a bit with pure desire, making you instantly become hot all over. But it was probably just your imagination, brought on by all the champagne you've been drinking.

You almost made a move right then, but the person he was conversing with interrupted and you found yourself drawn away by Bekah and her friends. Leaving Elijah to watch you from afar as you conversed with them, laughing and drinking.

Hours later, you were still in the middle of the large group of people, even dancing to the music that was blaring through the place. You saw Elijah dancing with a beautiful woman and you wanted to be happy for him, but then the woman whispered in his ear and touched his chest, and your mood immediately soured.

You went to the bar to get a drink, deciding more alcohol might be what you needed to wash away all your confused feelings.

"Thirsty, love?" Asked a familiar voice in your ear as your body was pulled back to collide with a strong chest. You could smell the scent of Klaus's cologne and instantly felt turned on.

"Very," you said, downing your entire shot.

He spun you around to look into your eyes, both of his hands on your waist, drinking in your appearance.

"You didn't have to do all this for me," Klaus teased, his eyes on your chest as he licked his lips. "I'm a sure thing, darling, you know that,"

You couldn't help but laugh. He may have been a lot of things, but he was definitely entertaining. You shook your head, but smiled all the same.

"I only ever dress up for myself, Nik," you sassed back to him, looking up through your lashes.

A slow smirk came to Klaus's face as he leaned in and captured your lips in his. He hummed into the kiss and his grip tightened on you. He pulled away, your lipstick was still on his lips.

You giggled and wiped it off, as he ordered you another drink. Not that you really wanted one but damn, he was good at persuading people.

"I recall that you owe me a dance," he reminded you, taking a sip of his own beverage.

"Oh?" You said innocently, fiddling with the many necklaces he was wearing. "I don't remember agreeing to anything," you flirted.

"Well, perhaps a private dance then," he teased, giving you a mischievous smile.

"Maybe I'll surprise you later," you whispered, leaning in and sucking his bottom lip into your mouth and playfully biting it, loving the look of surprise and arousal on his face.

Then you turned and sauntered away, leaving him standing there at the bar to watch you. You were definitely going to end up in his bed tonight, but you wanted to make him squirm a little. Or rather, a lot.

You moved through the crowd to see Elijah and the woman dancing close, whispering things to each other. Well, actually, only she was talking. He seemed like he wasn't paying too much attention to the conversation she was having with him.

You gave him a wave and a smile, pointing at the woman and giving him an encouraging thumbs up. You don't know why you did it. Your chest did funny things seeing him with someone else though.

He returned your smile but didn't do much else before she spoke in his ear again and he allowed her to lead him out of the crowd.

You guessed Elijah was tired of his own party and went off to have some fun, and you were determined to have the same.

Klaus found you sitting on the couch, a cocktail and a plate of various snacks in front of you. You were thoroughly bored as you couldn't find him again.

He came from behind and crashed beside you, taking the glass out of your hand and finishing it, then set it aside.

"Hey! That was mine," you scolded playfully.

Klaus put his arm around you and kissed your neck. "How about you stop pretending you're enjoying yourself and come upstairs with me?" He suggested.

You laughed, and then he abruptly pulled you up and practically carried you through the door leading upstairs, pinning you to the wall at the top of the steps.

"Nik," you tried to say while laughing. "You can't just haul me off and have your way with me," you protested as his lips got closer to yours.

"Tell me to stop and I will," he taunted, bringing his lips to yours in a rough kiss.

You felt like you couldn't breathe, everything moving so fast. Klaus didn't even give you a chance to respond, lifting you so your legs wrapped around him.

He walked into a room and shut the door, setting you down on his desk. You realized that you were in his infamous art studio, looking around as Klaus hovered over you. You felt his lips on your neck, kissing every inch until you moaned.

Then he found the tiny zipper of your dress and slid it down, exposing your breasts. He smirked, reaching to tweak your nipple as he took you in. "Well then, love. Now I truly see why my brother has hidden you from me," he said huskily.

You giggled at his compliment but then you couldn't form words as he yanked the rest of your dress off you. You sat on the desk naked, save for your heels and nothing else.

"Dear lord, you are gorgeous," Klaus muttered, touching you everywhere.

You pulled him close by his shirt collar and locked lips. You bit his bottom lip harshly and he growled, his eyes flashing gold. The way his eyes changed on you was the hottest thing you've seen.

You pulled his shirt off him, tossing it to the floor before unbuckling his belt, wanting him as naked as you were. Once you had him bare, you raked your nails down his chest and he chuckled.

"You want to play rough, don’t you love?" He whispered as he nipped at your neck.

"Maybe," you teased, "what are you going to do about it?" You questioned, leaning back on the desk a little and spreading your legs for him, getting wet at the promise of a wild night.

Klaus's breath hitched when you touched yourself for him, his eyes completely transfixed on you. He was definitely intrigued by how confident you were.

"Well then," he growled before he roughly pinned your legs open, his hands squeezing your thighs harshly. He brought your body to the edge of the desk, kneeling in front of you as he ran a thumb over your dripping wet center.

He hummed at your scent as he pulled you forward a bit more to devour you, making you yelp in surprise, your hands tugging on his curls.

He was good, really good, and your toes curled at the pleasure you were receiving. It only got better when you saw his golden eyes as he gazed at you with a possessive glint, the vibrations from his own groans of enjoyment hitting you just right.

But before you could climax he pulled back and stood up, making you whimper and sit up on the desk, wanting him to continue.

Klaus chuckled at your impatience, pulling you into another searing kiss as you moaned. He broke it and gave you a smug smile, before wrapping his hand around your throat.

You were panting with need, your hand moving down to his cock and he hissed at your touch. He moved forward so he was resting between your thighs again as you stroked him slowly.

You both stayed this way for a moment, staring at each other. Until finally Klaus couldn't stand it any longer and roughly turned you around to face the desk. He pushed on your back until you were bent over on the wood, making you giggle with anticipation.

He smacked your ass hard, turning your giggle into a gasp as you looked back at him. He did it again and again until it was stinging. You wanted him so badly, it was unbearable.

You reached back for him and he lined up his cock to your entrance, sliding it up and down a few times until you were nearly shaking. He finally gave in and pushed into you, his hand tugging your hair until you arched into him, and he sank into the hilt.

He hissed at the sensation and you were about to tell him to move but he started fucking you without you needing to, hard and rough and perfect. He had you moaning with each thrust as you grabbed onto the desk, holding on tight as his body collided with yours, skin slapping as you got closer to climaxing.

It was hot and a little dirty, just what you had needed. Your moans only spurred him on as his hands explored your body while he took you from behind. The force of his thrusts causing items on his desk to clatter to the floor, but you both were far too gone to care.

He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you back into him, making you stand so his other hand could roam your front. He moved up to massage your breast while pinching and tugging on your nipple until you moaned. He was clearly determined to make you come first and was going to enjoy doing it.

"Nik!" you whined his name when he pinched you a bit too harshly. You felt his lips on your neck, his fangs grazing the skin as he left hickeys.

You tilted your head for him and he smirked, licking your pulse point and gently nibbling. His thrusting becoming erratic as his hand slipped to your clit to rub fast circles until your legs started trembling and you let out a scream as your orgasm crashed into you.

He hummed in approval and thrust into you a few more times before you felt him filling you up with his cum, and you giggled from the sensation. He released you from his grasp and you leaned back down on the desk, turning around to face him.

You both were sweaty and exhausted but extremely satisfied. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, placing soft kisses all over your face as you giggled again, trying to move away from him.

He grabbed your dress and handed it to you before slipping on his pants, leaving his shirt off. He gave you a soft kiss on the lips and then turned away, starting to pick up the fallen objects from his desk and placing them in their correct places.

You watched him in a daze, your body tingling as you pulled your dress back on.

"So, love, my room is right next door, if you care to continue our celebration?" He said with a smug smirk, giving you a wink.

You giggled again and nodded, knowing it was probably the alcohol giving you your confidence, but you were going to ride the wave (and him) until the end.

Klaus woke to find you peacefully asleep in his bed. He leaned down to give you a gentle kiss on your forehead as you stirred slightly.

It was quite a night.

He took his time to admire your body and then your beautiful face. The way your eyelashes brushed your cheekbones as you slept, and your lips were parted slightly.

He got out of bed and got dressed, heading downstairs to find some blood and coffee. Elijah was in the kitchen reading his morning paper and looking every bit as dignified as always.

Klaus poured himself some coffee and started drinking it. He glanced around and saw there was no one else there but his brother, and he was smirking before he even opened his mouth.

"How was your night, Elijah?" He asked teasingly.

Elijah took his time to respond. He folded his paper up, placing it beside him as he eyed his younger brother suspiciously, he always had an innate sense to when Klaus was up to something.

"Quite fine. Why do you ask?"

Klaus's smirk grew bigger. He didn't say anything else and went about making himself something to eat. He felt Elijah's eyes boring into him the whole time, knowing that he wanted an answer but Klaus wouldn't give it to him just yet. He just loved torturing his big brother, even after a thousand years it was still highly entertaining.

"Your friend is an excellent host," Klaus started off with, his back turned as he chopped some fruit to put into a smoothie. He could almost hear the wheels turning in Elijah's mind as he tried to figure out where Klaus was going with this. "You really should have introduced me to her sooner."

Elijah sighed heavily. Klaus glanced behind him, and he had an annoyed expression on his face. He wasn't getting anything from Elijah so he turned to face him, his smirk returning.

"I showed her how much I appreciated her hard work last night. Several times actually, in my studio, a few times in my bed and then in the shower," he added as his smirk got wider and his tone became suggestive. "I dare say I've never been ridden so spectacularly before in all my years,"

Elijah abruptly stood, opening his mouth to say something, but that's when Klaus turned on the blender. Looking at Elijah apologetically and holding a finger to his ear and shrugging his shoulders.

"What's the matter brother?" he shouted over the blender. "You look a bit upset. You know it's not very healthy to bottle up all of your feelings,"

He stopped the blender and poured himself a glass, then another for Elijah as he handed it to him. Elijah just glared at him and poured the smoothie down the drain, setting the glass in the sink.

"That's rather rude, Elijah," he scolded teasingly. "I made that just for you,"

"Have you no shame, Niklaus?" He asked harshly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Noooo, shame is for boring people," he taunted. "Why are you so upset? Aren't you happy for your friend? I can assure you that she enjoyed herself immensely,”

Elijah snapped. He couldn't take anymore. He walked over and grabbed Klaus by the shirt collar, and shoved him against the wall roughly, holding him in place.

"You know how I feel about her and yet you slept with her anyway," Elijah seethed.

Klaus raised his eyebrow. "If you want her, then you should of taken her yourself," he snapped, his eyes flashing gold in challenge. "It's your loss anyway," he added, shoving him back and adjusting his collar, then smoothing out his shirt.

Elijah was livid. He knew it was just Klaus's way of being obnoxious, but that didn't make it any easier to handle.

"I can't get the vision of her tits bouncing in my face out of my mind, Elijah," Klaus taunted him again. "Perhaps if you're lucky, you'll get to experience it for yourself," he said, brushing past his brother and walking away with a laugh.

You woke in Klaus' bed with a terrible hangover and an empty spot beside you. You sat up, your head spinning a bit as the memories of the night before came flooding back.

Oh God, you slept with Elijah's brother.

You covered your face in embarrassment. You got drunk, got laid and it was with the worst person you possibly could of picked.

Elijah was going to kill you. He's been protecting you from his brother and here you go, having sex with him in his bed. You could imagine how disappointed he was in you right now.

You quickly got dressed and made your way downstairs, needing some coffee and possibly a few pain pills to try and take the edge off your headache.

Klaus was walking away from the kitchen, a devious smirk on his face. When he saw you, his grin got even bigger, but he said nothing, just gave you a wink.

You turned red in embarrassment and dashed into the kitchen, finding Elijah sipping his morning coffee while reading his paper. He looked up when he saw you enter and then he folded the paper and placed it on the island.

"Morning," he started off in a professional tone. You hated how he sounded.

You grabbed a mug and poured the liquid into it. Elijah was silent as he waited for you to face him, and once you had taken a few sips, he was standing in front of you.

He pushed your hair off your neck and a flash of Klaus' mouth sucking and nibbling on you last night, appeared in your mind. You were definitely covered in marks and hickeys.

"I see you had fun," Elijah muttered, and you saw him look over your appearance, the slight smudged make-up, messy hair and rumpled dress from last night.

He wasn't usually one to judge someone else's life choices, but this was his brother and you. It seemed more personal.

You blushed and pushed your hair back over your shoulder, so his eyes would stop staring at your neck. You needed a cold shower or something, the entire night was still feeling extremely vivid.

"Look Elijah, I'm so sorry, he just caught me at the right moment and I got a little drunk and..." you trailed off, taking a drink of coffee to calm your nerves. You really didn't have any good excuse to give him.

"It's alright, you can be with whoever you choose," Elijah stated in a collected tone.

You frowned and saw him adjusting his cuff-links. A sure sign he was upset. He always did that when he was angry or hiding what he was truly feeling.

"It was just a one time thing," you added, but you felt like he wasn't listening to you anymore.

Elijah was acting strange. Sure he could be an enigma sometimes, but this was different. He looked determined but a little annoyed, and you weren't quite sure how to read the situation. You decided to steer the conversation away from Klaus and what had happened between you two.

"How was your night?" You finally thought to ask. "I saw you leave with a woman, you looked like you were having fun," you said it teasingly, hoping it would lighten up the mood.

But now it was his turn to blush.

"Fine, really. It was fine," he muttered, fixing the already perfect knot in his tie. Now that was definitely something. Elijah rarely ever got tongue tied. "We kissed and I walked her home," he added, his lips pressing together in a firm line.

"That's all? You didn't...well, you know?" You questioned hesitantly.

"One night stands aren't my forte," he replied, giving you a soft smile. "When I take a woman to bed, I make her mine," his words were possessive and he hadn't taken his eyes off you.

The two of you weren't the kind of friends who discussed your sex life with each other. So when he said this, your cheeks turned hot and your imagination went wild. The idea of him holding you down and having his wicked way with you was something you were definitely interested in.

You both were staring at each other, the tension growing by the second. Then you looked away, you couldn't possibly fuck another Mikaelson in the same twelve hour period. Besides, Elijah meant far more to you than Klaus ever could. Sex with him would probably lead you somewhere complicated, and you didn't want to ruin what you had right now.

The situation was way too weird.

"Do you want to hang out tomorrow?" You decided to ask, breaking the silence and steering the conversation away from sex. You just wanted to spend some time with him. "Maybe come up to my place? I don't work the next two days," you added, hopeful he would agree to spend time with you, even though he always did, but this time you felt more nervous about it.

It would help things get back to normal, as normal as they could be after what happened with Klaus.

"Sure, Klaus and Rebekah won't be home tomorrow if you would like to come over here instead?" He suggested, your eyes meeting his again.

He had such an intense way of staring into your eyes, that it almost felt like he was looking into your soul.

"Well, it's your birthday so whatever you would like to do," you stated, giving him a sweet smile.

Your phone buzzed, breaking the moment. You grabbed it from your purse and opened the new text from Klaus:

- I'm available if you ever need something to ride again.

You quickly put down your phone, forgetting you had given him your number. You decided you were going to ignore it. There was no way you were going there again.

Elijah looked curious but didn't press.

"I better go home," you said, finishing your coffee and putting it in the sink.

"See you tomorrow," he replied, stepping closer and giving you gentle kiss on the cheek.

You said bye to him and walked out of the kitchen to the courtyard where Rebekah and Klaus were arguing. They both looked over at you, their argument stopping when they noticed you.

"Hello darling," Klaus greeted, his eyes raking over you. Flashes of your evening together running through your mind, and you quickly looked away from him.

Rebekah looked between the two of you and you could see her trying to figure it out, her eyes widening as she stared at you. You quickly hurried out of the compound before either of them could say another word.

{Part Two}

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486 notes · View notes

yuff7e · 8 months ago

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Hii !!

Could you please write lady muzan with a his s/o male uppermoon reader that loves his boobies ?

𝐌𝐘 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑, 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐂𝐀𝐍’𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐒, 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔?

𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

hello anon, i love this request .. i am also obsessed with lady muzans boobies, js wanna squish em (ofc he would crush my head if i ever put my hand near his beautiful chest) hope you enjoy this one shot + headcanons :) ఌ︎

♬♪ -> lıllılı.ıllı.ılılıı

muzan wasn’t unaware of your obsession; in fact, it was quite the opposite. your relationship with muzan had blossomed over favoritism, rooted in mutual respect. he admired your strength, your capabilities, and the unwavering loyalty you displayed towards him. he found himself drawn to these qualities, yearning to possess you as his most trusted servant.

muzan regularly rewarded you with generous amounts of blood in exchange for your dedication and hard work. one day, however, he decided to give you his blood in a different manner. assuming his female form to conduct a unique set of tests, muzan summoned you urgently. as you appeared before him, he turned to face you, gazing down with a tender expression.

“my, my, [name], how beautifully you’ve grown.” muzan remarked, observing you with a sense of pride. “i trust the eliminations of the remaining hashiras are proceeding well. have you brought me the samples?” “yes, master.” you replied promptly, bowing before him. with a graceful motion, you raised your hand, presenting a small, glistening tube containing a sample of blood.

muzan hummed in appreciation as he delicately took the tube from your hand, causing a shiver to run down your spine at the lingering touch. each contact with him felt like pure ecstasy, even if it was fleeting. muzan delighted in teasing you, savoring the effect he had on you.

“you’re very good, [name].” he purred, his voice laced with allure. “i might just have to reward you with some of my blood.” with a tantalizing smile, he began to make his way toward his nearby table, leaving you with a mix of anticipation and desire in his wake.

with each passing moment, your yearning for further contact with your lord grew more intense. you hungered for his touch and approval, the very sound of his voice was enough to send you over the edge. the cold blood he had shared with you coerced through your veins, driving your longing for more of his attention.

sensing your unspoken plea, muzan placed the tube of blood down before returning to your side. seating himself in the chair facing you, he exuded an aura of power, his presence captivating you.

as muzan signaled for you to meet his gaze, you obediently lifted your eyes to meet his. locking your gaze with his mesmerizing presence, a smile naturally graced your lips as you admired his perfection, your thoughts swirling with desire; causing a grin to tug at the corners of muzan’s lips, acknowledging the unspoken admiration.

in a swift motion, muzan slowly folded back his yukata, revealing his impressive chest as it spilled out of the fabric before you, a symbol of his power and dominance laid bare in your presence. the action alone would’ve made you fall to your knees if you weren’t already on them.

your mouth went dry as a lump formed in your throat, causing you to stutter out, “master, i—” before muzan interrupted you with a raised hand, signaling for you to approach him. your legs felt like heavy weights as each step you took a struggle as you slowly made your way to kneel right before your master. muzan moved a hand towards your jaw, his grip tight. he gazed intently at your face, a moment of silent communication passing between you.

without a word, he guided your face to hover just above his exposed breast, his commanding presence leaving you eager. “i want you to drink the blood from here.” muzan’s directive was clear, his voice hung with authority as you puckered your lips against his areola.

slowly, your hot mouth engulfed his nipple, causing muzan to twitch; which only fueled your desire more. you bit down lightly, being careful in order to not hurt your master. you sucked in, and that’s when the ecstasy hit you, his thick blood coerced throughout your mouth, over your tongue and down your throat. you couldn’t help but flick your tongue over his nipple every now and then as you sucked, a new lustful feeling taking over your senses.

muzan placed a gentle hand against the back of your head, soothing you as you drank from his chest. he usually didn’t hold back on how much blood he gave you, since you were his favorite. he leaned his head back slightly, brows furrowed, reveling in the feeling of your mouth on the sensitive area.

you bring a hand up to massage his soft, tender breast, encouraging more blood flow. you tremble with pleasure and power as you feel it coursing through your body. eventually, muzan has to push you off, a prominent bite mark surrounding his nipple, which quickly heals. he looks at you with his dark, feminine eyes, gazing deeply into your very being.

“my dear, you just can’t resist my breasts, can you?”

˗ˏˋ ✨ 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 ✨ ´ˎ˗

— ever since muzan let you drink from his nipple, you’ve been obsessed.

— and honestly, muzan has too.

— the way you instantly attach to him, massaging them as you drink…

— he’s mesmerized by your dominant behavior and proceeds to let you drink from his chest more often.

— at times, he may just alter his chest and not his actual appearance, allowing you to truly behold your lord and experience his aura as you drink from such an intimate place.

— one day, you asked your lord if he allows anyone else this privilege .. wether it’s just you and him, or shared with others ..

— he attentively considers your question as he senses the pressure on his chest intensify, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

— "my dear, do not ponder such matters so naively. you are aware that this is a highly intimate gesture that i would only permit you to partake in. you’re a good boy, [name]."

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒 : 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍

#demon slayer #muzan kibutsuji #musan kibutsuji x male reader #muzan kibutsuji x reader #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer x male reader #male reader #reader #yuff7e

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devilcatdarling · 7 months ago

Text

'Cause they took your loved ones

But returned them in exchange for you

But would you have it any other way?

You couldn't have it any other way~

'Cause she's a cruel mistress

And a bargain must be made

But oh, don't forget me

When I let the water take me~

#hollow knight #hollow knight fanart #hollow knight art #the hollow knight #doodle for today #no energy for anything else hhh

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n1ght0f-nyx · 2 months ago

Note

New Perth idea if you would like: what if other orcs were giving reader a hard time or if reader got hurt by them or somthing? No pressure at all I love the fics!

long time no see guys... :P

warnings/tags- really minor bullying (i suck at writing insults cuz im scared of being cliche), comfort and fantasy xenophobia, unnamed bullies

word count: 910 words

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the village. You had ventured out earlier that day, eager to explore the market with a sense of independence you hadn’t felt in a long time. Pert’ah had been hesitant, his amber eyes filled with concern, but he respected your wishes and let you go alone, trusting you to navigate the bustling orc settlement.

The market was lively, with orcs of various clans bartering and exchanging goods. You moved through the crowd, your human stature making you feel a little out of place, but you kept your chin up, determined to blend in.

It started with whispers—mutters about the human woman who thought she belonged among them. You tried to ignore the murmurs, focusing instead on the vibrant fabrics and intriguing artifacts displayed on the wooden stalls. But it didn’t stop there.

A group of younger orcs, warriors-in-training, loomed near one of the stalls. Their armor clinked as they shifted, their gazes fixated on you with a mixture of curiosity and disdain. One of them, bolder than the rest, stepped forward.

“Lost, little human?” he sneered, his tusks jutting as he smirked. The others chuckled, the sound low and grating.

“I’m just browsing,” you replied evenly, trying to keep your voice steady. You didn’t want to show fear, but their presence was intimidating.

“Shouldn’t you be at home, waiting for your orc to return from battle?” another one jeered, his voice dripping with mockery. “Humans are fragile. What are you doing here, playing at being one of us?”

Your heart pounded in your chest. You tried to sidestep them, but one of the orcs bumped your shoulder roughly, causing you to stumble. Your basket of goods fell to the ground, scattering fruits and herbs across the dirt.

Before you could respond, a shadow fell over the group, and the air grew tense. Pert’ah had arrived. His broad frame towered over the young orcs, his eyes burning with an intensity that made the group take a cautious step back.

“What is the meaning of this?” Pert’ah’s voice was a low growl, filled with authority. His gaze swept over the scattered items on the ground, then landed on you. His eyes softened for a brief moment before returning to the young orcs with a fierce glare.

“We meant no harm, leader,” the bold one stammered, his bravado crumbling under Pert’ah’s piercing stare. “Just... having some fun.”

“Fun?” Pert’ah repeated, his voice like the rumble of a storm. “Harassing someone under my protection is not fun. It is dishonorable.”

The group shifted uncomfortably, realizing the gravity of their actions. Pert’ah took a step forward, his presence dominating the space.

“Leave,” he commanded. “And consider your actions carefully next time.”

Without a word, the young orcs scurried away, their tails between their legs. Pert’ah turned to you, his expression softening once again. He knelt down, gathering the fallen items into your basket with gentle hands.

“I should have come with you,” he said quietly, his voice laced with regret. “I didn’t think they would... I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” you replied, your voice shaking slightly. “I wanted to do this on my own.”

He stood, offering the basket back to you. “You are strong, but they had no right. Are you hurt?”

You shook your head, though your shoulder ached where the orc had bumped into you. Pert’ah noticed your wince and gently touched your arm, his calloused fingers careful not to cause more discomfort.

“Come,” he said softly. “Let’s go home.”

The walk back was quiet, Pert’ah’s protective presence reassuring beside you. Once inside the safety of your home, he led you to a seat and knelt before you, examining your shoulder with care.

“It’s just a bruise,” you assured him, though the sting of the encounter lingered in your heart.

Pert’ah’s fingers traced the outline of the bruise tenderly, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and guilt. “They won’t bother you again,” he promised, his voice firm. “I’ll see to that.”

You reached up, placing your hand on his cheek, your thumb brushing the scar that ran along his jaw. “Thank you,” you said softly. “For always protecting me.”

His eyes closed briefly at your touch, as if savoring the kindness. “It is my honor,” he whispered.

Pert’ah leaned into your touch, his rough exterior melting under your gentle hand. He was a warrior, forged in the fires of countless battles, but with you, he found peace. You saw more in him than just the warrior, the leader. You saw the man who cared deeply, who loved fiercely.

“Stay with me,” you murmured, your hand slipping into his. “You are my strength, just as I am yours.”

He nodded, his forehead resting against yours. In the quiet of your home, the world outside faded away. Together, you found solace in each other, the bond you shared unshakable.

Pert’ah lifted you gently, carrying you to the hearth where he wrapped you both in a warm blanket. The fire crackled softly, casting a comforting glow over the room. He held you close, his arms a fortress against the world.

“You are my heart, little one,” he murmured into your hair. “And I will always keep you safe.”

In his embrace, you felt the weight of the day lift, replaced by the warmth of his love. Pert’ah was more than a warrior, more than a leader. To you, he was home.

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illyrianbitch · 1 year ago

Text

Beneath the Ashes of Our Broken Oaths — Part Two

Pairing: Morrigan's Sister!Reader x Azriel

Summary: After abandoning the refuge of Velaris, you, Morrigan’s twin sister, returned to the forsaken Hewn City fueled by a vision for a better future. Now, your estranged family seeks your help when rumors of rebellion spread at a time of utmost inconvenience. Torn between your anger and a desire to protect the good, you begrudgingly agree and are forced to face memories of a past life and the unsettling presence of Azriel– the first man you ever loved.

Warnings: inner circle being unable to emotionally regulate, y/n being a soft spot for mor, y/n being suspicious, keir (🤮), some necessary build up for future parts, men in general (🤮).

Word Count: 3.9k

←Part One Part Three→

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

It didn’t take long for people to get suspicious. You had planned for this, of course, you knew the nature of your people. It took a few years, but soon enough you had a system in place; a way to get around the skeptical and paranoid eyes of Hewn City– a way to avoid the power your father held. In the worst case scenario, you always planned to take your own life. Set fire to your information, to everything that revealed the acts you had committed. Your work would die with you. After all, you swore to protect it with your life.

You were caught one evening as you returned home, becoming aware of the man trailing behind you within moments of his appearance. Easily, your hand found itself resting on a dagger hidden in your sleeve, and you pulled him into an alley, holding him with your knife against this throat.

You recognized him, recognized his golden brown hair and bright green eyes. A commander. He didn’t struggle against you, nor did he make any moves to fight back. “Please,” He had said, his arms up in surrender, “Hear me out.”

They had spent weeks deliberating their visit to you, wondering if it was worth the effort— wondering if they really needed your help. With the plan underway, Feyre, Mor, and Cassian had stationed themselves, waiting with bated breath for Rhys and Azriel's return. They knew it was unsuccessful the minute both men entered. Rhysand’s usual grace was replaced by visible frustration as he stormed in, the failure of their trip clung to both him and Azriel like a heavy layer of clothing. Mor's gaze flicked between the two, an expectant look ingrained into her strong features. Wordlessly, Rhys moved swiftly towards his office.

"So, by your cheery smiles, I'm guessing it went smoothly?"

Rhysand shot Cassian a piercing glare as he walked past, causing him to recoil in his seat instinctively. Feyre watched Rhysand's retreating and frowned, turning towards Azriel. His hazel eyes met her gaze briefly before looking away. Saying nothing, Az walked to an empty chair and dropped himself down with a deep exhale.

Feyre sighed, and with a resigned glance, she handed her wine glass to Mor, who took it without a word. With a brief look back at her friends, she made her way towards Rhysand's office as Mor eagerly poured the remaining wine into her own cup and took a large sip.

The room remained in a hushed stillness as the mated pair retreated into the office. Cassian and Mor exchanged uneasy glances before they both drew their gaze over to Azriel. His posture, typically erect and poised, now sagged as he curled into himself, his elbows on his knees, his face in his hands as he ran them up and down. There was a slight twitch in his wings as they settled behind him, slumped and slightly limp, reflecting a certain vulnerability– one of a man caught off guard.

It was a rare sight: Azriel, the Spymaster, usually shrouded in shadows and secrets, now laid bare before them. Az wasn’t one to wear his emotions openly, even in front of his family. He’d gotten good at it over the centuries— the practice of keeping his walls up just long enough for him to reach his bedroom, to welcome the sweet release of solidarity before he let his emotions breathe. But here he was, so evidently feeling. The sheer sight of it made Cassian uncomfortable, on edge, as if he should be prepared for an enemy to walk in any second and finish Azriel off.

"What happened back there, Az?" Cassian asked, his voice low and concerned.

Azriel hesitated.

“She called me a dog." He admitted, his voice barely above a murmur.

Cassian, taken aback, let out a sound of surprise that mirrored both a laugh and a scoff. He opened his mouth to respond, a teasing remark making itself to the tip of his tongue, but the burning intensity in Azriel's eyes, which were now on him, halted him in his tracks. Sensing the seriousness of the situation, Cassian chose silence over a misplaced joke, quickly coughing to stop himself instead.

Then, he got up and slowly walked over to Azriel, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Hey, it can only get better from here, right?" He said, his voice carrying a hopeful tone as he tried to alleviate the suffocating tension that reeked in the air.

Azriel turned his head to look up at his brother, his expression a bold showing of both disbelief and deep irritation. Cassian continued.

“I mean… theres only up once you’ve hit rock bottom.”

Mor rolled her eyes. Annoyance etched across her features as she huffed audibly, setting her wine glass down with a clatter before making a swift exit.

"Well, everyone's making fun exits today, huh?" Cassian gave a wry grin, gesturing towards the space Mor had just vacated.

Azriel just sighed, sinking further into the couch, shadows swirling restlessly around him. He closed his eyes, and for a moment, he saw you again. Your face. Your eyes, your anger. He ignored the way his stomach clenched as he pushed the image of you away.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Rhysand was beside himself.

Feyre could see it written on his face, felt it even deeper in her chest. His emotions were burning through their bond, hot enough for a heavy discomfort to settle in her own heart. Rhysand wasn’t just frustrated, he was angry, sad, disappointed, and guilty— all at the same time. The emotions were mixing among themselves, swirling inside of him and replacing any ability for coherent thinking. Instead, he was spewing every thought, every irritation.

"She didn't let me talk, treated me like a stranger in her home!"

Rhysand's voice was loud, an icy anger laced in it. Feyre watched as he paced back and forth, his hands clutching into fists at his side as he continued his rant. She hummed slightly.

"Well, did you at least give your condolences? For Caladan?"

Rhys stilled. He turned around and looked at his mate, at her scrunched eyebrows and expectant face. Suddenly feeling as if he was a child just caught in a lie, he looked away in shame.

“No. I did not.”

Feyre released a sigh.

“Rhys,” She said, the disappointed sound of his name falling from her lips. “That was your in.”

She was right, as she usually was. He had rushed headlong into business, seeking favors, and demanding help, and in doing so, he likely sabotaged the entire plan. And any potential for reconciliation, too. The realization gnawed at him and a sense of regret colored his features.

“Come here,” Feyre said, beckoning him to where she stood. He took hold of her extended hand and sat at the edge of his desk, taking in her kind face, the patience in her eyes. Feyre moved to stand between his thighs, her hands gently running through his hair in a soothing rhythm. The quiet, comforting touch seemed to ease some of his tension as he let out a deep breath.

"You went to her as High Lord. Maybe it would have been more successful if you had gone to her as Rhys, her cousin. Cassian seemed to think so as well.”

Rhys shook his head, leaning into Feyre’s touch.

"Cassian wasn’t there,” He said. “He didn’t see how she was, how she spoke to us—of us. She disrespected you, Feyre.”

She looked into his eyes, a dark violet now, pupils blown wide, and gave him a small smile. Threading her fingers through his hair, Feyre spoke softly to him.

"Whatever she said, I’m sure I’ve been told worse."

He shook his head again, clenching his jaw. Then, he gently reached to where her hand lay on his cheek, grabbing it in his own and bringing them to his lap.

"We may have overestimated the connection she still holds to us."

"Let's not make any assumptions now,” Feyre said with a small frown, a crease forming between her brows. “It was only one visit, and a short one at that."

Rhysand replayed the visit in his mind, the memory now a fresh and painful wound. He walked himself through it, wondering what he could have fixed, where he might have been able to mend the fraying threads of the connection you once held to him. His mind fixated on the look etched on your face, the callousness with which you addressed him and Azriel – even Azriel.

The change in you baffled him. He tugged at memories of the girl he had grown up with, the one adorned with a soft smile and bright eyes. How had that radiant spirit transformed so swiftly? The answer immediately echoed in his mind – Hewn City, an insidious place breeding misery. It had claimed you, just as it had claimed the rest.

“I don’t know what I can do,” Rhys admitted. “She was just so…”

“Cold? Detached?”

The sound of Mor’s voice caused both Feyre and Rhys to separate, turning their heads to the blonde who leaned casually against the now open door.

“Sorry to interrupt,” She said flatly. She turned her gaze to her cousin. "So, am I right? Was she cold, detached, exactly like I said she’d be?"

Rhysand shared a glance with his mate but said nothing. He couldn’t find the right words to say, and wouldn’t take the chance of saying the wrong ones. Not when the situation was so fragile, so delicate— and especially not when Mor was looking at him with that hard look on her face. The one she only wore when it came to you.

Mor took his silence as confirmation and crossed her arms against her chest. "I told you," she declared with an air of exasperation, her tone laced with pride. "It’s no use. You’ll sooner find spring flowers in the Winter Court than ever get her to agree."

Feyre felt herself deflate. She wanted to believe you were good, wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps it was her relationship with Nesta, a woman that she knew with anger in her veins, similar to how Rhysand spoke of you now. Or maybe it was the few times she’d interacted with you, when you’d surprised her with your sweet tone.

Feyre casted a look at Mor.

“We will figure something out. Just be patient.”

Mor let out a small scoff, shaking her head. She pursed her lips before responding.

“Patience won’t thaw a frozen heart.”

Feyre watched as Mor lingered for a moment and then excused herself. But she didn't miss the subtle shift she saw in her friend's face. Underneath her anger and pride, Mor seemed sad… disappointed.

And Feyre was right. Mor was disappointed.

She had only seen you a handful of times since you returned to the hell that you both had escaped. Each of those times had been worse than the one before, an unspoken tension between you two, harsh glances thrown when you’d meet one another's eyes. Yet, deep down, despite her worst beliefs, a part of her had held onto hope that when Rhysand and Azriel returned, you would be with them.

It was a foolish dream, and now, having heard how Rhys spoke to Feyre about you, Mor felt like an idiot for ever entertaining the idea of you coming home. Well, the idea of you at all.

As she left Rhysand’s office, Feyre’s encouraging words echoed in her head. But she couldn’t feel them, not the way Feyre wanted her too; because Mor knew, deep in her heart...

You were a lost cause.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

You knew about the rumors.

Of course you did.

After all, you were the one who started them.

A part of you found it unnerving, how easily the lie rolled off your tongue. You knew that time had changed you, had hardened you to a certain extent. You wouldn't have been able to survive this city otherwise. And you'd lied a lot since your return. Your entire life was a lie.

But you had been so careful when it came to them-- to your family. You wanted to believe that you were better than the people you looked down on, better than Rhysand, better than Mor, better than the people in your life that were selfish and blinded. But maybe you weren't. Perhaps you had gotten so good at lying that you didn't even realize when you were lying to yourself. You weren't ready to face that reality yet.

Rhysand and Azriel weren't supposed to find you. They weren't even supposed to know- not yet, anyway. You had planned for more time, hoped that Rhysand would be busy with his new babe, that Azriel wouldn't be around to dig into your secrets. They hadn't frequented the Court of Nightmares recently-- preoccupied with their perfect city and the three Made sisters, you assumed. Your own sister was never a worry with her trips to Hewn City being short and far between, usually accompanied by the three men you once loved so deeply.

Azriel's stare lingered in your mind. The hazel color bore into you, made you feel like the memory itself could grab you and drag you back to a past you couldn't escape. You had dreamt of those eyes, of conversations left unfinished, of explanations that never came. Seeing him, when you had been so unprepared, so exposed, was a burning reminder of what you had lost and what you had become in its wake.

You wanted to bury the past even further into your brain, find a crevasse unfilled and stuff every thought of them into it. But you knew it would be a futile attempt. You would never be able to outrun what haunted you, not when those ghosts were still alive.

Your head pounded. You felt the urge to sit and drink your thoughts away, to find Evadne and smoke her specialty herbs. But first, you needed to protect yourself, cover your tracks. Your muddy, messy, and obvious tracks.

The night air in Hewn City was thick with the stench of filth and decay. Dirty alleys echoed with the sounds of bawdy laughter, predatory and wolfish. Occasional sounds of distress from unseen fae pierced through the night, quickly drowned out within the chaos of the city. The ground was layered with grime, and every step felt like wading through a cesspool.

You moved through the twisted streets, a heavy hood on in an attempt to go unnoticed. Still, catcalls and jeers followed. C'mere sweet thing. You continued walking. The man followed. Bet you'd be even more interesting without those pesky clothes, wouldn't you? You grimaced, swallowing the bile that rose a the sound of the grating voice. Quickly, you moved forward, avoiding his sight. Your shoulders fell in relief when you heard his retreating footsteps, followed by loud drunken complaints about how you'd ran off like a tease.

As you approached the hidden building your father had recently taken space in, the atmosphere changed. Your heart instantly felt heavier, and you began to mentally prepare yourself for the interaction. The heavy door creaked open. Keir, surrounded by a select few of his men, looked up from the table where he sat. His eyes, sharp and piercing, bore into you as you entered-- stern gaze irritated by the intrusion.

"Keir," you addressed him with a feigned urgency, "I need to speak with you."

Instantly, anger flashed in his eyes.

"Show me respect." Keir demanded sharply.

"Forgive me," You quickly corrected. "May I speak with you? It's urgent."

Keir's gaze intensified, his eyes narrowing. "How rude of you not to say hello to my men," he sneered, emphasizing each word. "It seems you've forgotten all your manners."

You forced a strained smile, acknowledging the men with a cautious nod. "Hello," you offered.

You casted a wary gaze around the room. Each man looked like a nightmare, their large and intimidating frames were adorned with scars and grimy features that bore witness to countless battles. Some wore smirks that reeked of arrogance, while others openly eyed you up and down, their predatory gazes unsettling and intrusive. Suddenly, you felt 17 again-- bare, defenseless, and vulnerable; subject to the leering gazes of those who saw you as nothing more than an object. It was a feeling you thought you'd left behind, a discomfort that dredged up memories you wished to forget.

You felt dirty, a sense of defilement creeping over you. You were a prize in their eyes, irrespective of any respect they might harbor for your father. These men, loyal or not, saw an opportunity to showcase you as a possession, a symbol of conquest. The thought of how they might do it sent a shiver down your spine, and you recoiled from the mental images that threatened to invade your consciousness. In that moment, you yearned to escape the suffocating atmosphere, to break free from the repulsive feeling that clung to you like an indelible stain.

Keir leaned back in his chair, a twisted grin forming on his lips. "There, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

Your attention fixated on Thorne, one of your father's captains. You despised him-- despised the way he wore a sense of self-importance that trailed after him like a pet, despised how he spoke, even how he walked. His eyes scanned you slowly, sweeping up and down as if assessing your every vulnerability. The strength of his scrutiny ignited a simmering anger within you, and you gritted your teeth, resisting the urge to let your temper flare.

You envisioned an alternate reality – a world where consequences were fleeting, and you could seize control. The image of slamming Thorne's head against the table played vividly in your mind. The satisfying thud, the sudden silence that followed, and the triumph of asserting dominance over the predator before you.

But reality anchored you, and you took a deep breath as your fathers voice pulled you from your thoughts.

"Well? You've interrupted me, and now you've left me waiting.”

"I have news," you replied, a subtle unease settling in as you braced yourself for the next part.

"Well, speak," Keir gestured with impatience, and you sensed the collective gaze of the men fixed upon you. It dawned on you – this wasn't a private exchange. Your stage had expanded beyond just you and your father.

"I was just paid a visit by a certain spymaster," you began, your tone carefully modulated. You decided that you would keep Rhysand’s presence a secret— for now. It would bring up too much, too fast. One presence was enough. Azriel alone would do. Keir's gaze sharpened, and you noticed a subtle tensing in his posture.

"Oh, is that so?" He responded, his tone laced with a disdain that didn't go unnoticed. "And what did that deformed overgrown bat wish to talk to you about?"

You felt a strange primal urge to defend Azriel against his words. He doesn't need your protection, you thought, doesn't deserve it. But the same image from earlier came to your mind; where Thorne once was, your father had taken his place. With an internal struggle to maintain composure, you responded.

"He wished to speak to me about rumors of an uprising."

Your father perked up.

"And what did you say to this?" Keir questioned, his eyes narrowing, probing for information.

"I told him I had heard no such thing," you replied, choosing your words carefully. "That perhaps he had been listening to his shadows too much, started to hallucinate situations where he was needed."

As the words left your lips, an uncomfortable weight settled in the pit of your stomach. Each syllable felt like a burning confession, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. It was a calculated deception, a necessary statement, yet the words felt wrong – a sinister compromise that clawed at your conscience.

You needed to do this to survive, you reminded yourself, they deserve it. But nonetheless, it left a residue of self-loathing. You couldn't help but compare yourself to the men in the room – those vulturous gazes, the filth that clung to them like soil. The realization that you had willingly immersed yourself in their skills, ones of deceit and cruelty, left you feeling dirty-- like you had been tainted by the same darkness you claimed to despise.

Keir responded with a contemplative "Hmmm," and you seized the opportunity to further weave your narrative.

"I told him that there are always rumors in Hewn City." You paused for emphasis before adding, "He asked me to tell him if I heard anything else. I told him no."

Silence. You resisted the urge to look away from your fathers heavy gaze, but the idea of looking at any of the other men surrounded you was a worse fate.

"How can I trust you?"

You felt his skepticism hang in the air like a heavy fog, his eyes scrutinizing you for any sign of deceit.

The weight of his distrust settled on your shoulders, and you took a moment to consider the best way to allay his suspicions. As you looked at him, a twinge of pity tugged at you. Your father, for all of his power, was paranoid and weak. He trusted no one. And you couldn't help but feel sorry for the life he led – one constantly clouded by suspicion. But that pity quickly faded. Keir deserved to live in such uncertainty, deserved every bit of discomfort that it provided.

"I hate them too," you said with an energy that mirrored the intensity in his eyes. "I hope I have proved myself thus far, proved that I want nothing more than to see them get what they deserve."

A pregnant pause lingered in the room as Keir absorbed your words. You could almost hear the gears turning in his mind as he assessed the credibility of your declaration.

"Especially Morrigan."

By the way his face slightly relaxed, you knew your words had done their job, played into his vulnerabilities with a precision that left you feeling both triumphant and repulsed.

"I'll take this into account," He conceded, his gaze lingering on you. "I'm assuming he will not be making any more late-night visits to you?"

"No,” You shook your head. “If he does, you will know.”

"Very well," Keir acknowledged. "Leave us."

He dismissed you with a wave of his hand.

A part of you could have sworn you detected a glimmer of pride in his eyes – a sickening acknowledgment that you had played your part too well. The sense of dirtiness clung to you like a wet blanket as you navigated your way home. The streets felt colder and the shadows more ominous, as if each and every one of them were Azriel’s and they knew what you had done-- what you had become. You wished you could shed your skin, remove the evidence of your life here, become something cleaner, something purer.

In the deafening silence of your home, you curled up in bed and shut your eyes tightly. You tired mind slowly formed it’s own hands and pulled you to images of a life before, you thought of the stars, of Velaris, of Mor, and of Azriel and his hazel eyes.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

a/n: woo!!! its starting!!! im prewriting as much as i can for this so i can get it going but eeek!! im just setting some groundwork down so stick with me babes.

y/n will be the president of the “my father is the worst man alive and i am his favorite daughter” club and the queen of dealing with anger as a form of grief.

tag list (some weren’t letting me so lets hope it works)🫶🏻

@kalulakunundrum @janebirkln @thelov3lybookworm @secretlyhers @nightcourt-daydreaming @sidthedollface2 @gorlillaglue25 @abysshaven @historygeekqueen @acourtofbatboydreams @justdreamstars @darling006 @inloveallthetime @dr4g0ngirl

#azriel #azriel fanfiction #azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acotarfandom #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar x reader #acotar x you #hewn city #night court #azriel spymaster #shadowsinger x reader #azriel fic

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lanawinterscigarettes · 3 months ago

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For the ficmas thing, may I request Stu Macher with a transmasc partner who's gift to Stu is letting him body worship them and give them (sloppy/eager) head during sex as a present. Also a bit of breeding kink too as a treat for Stu.

ofc you can! thanks so much for the ficmas request, I love this idea sm <3

Ficmas Day 1: Stu Macher with a transmasc reader who lets him give them eager/sloppy head as a present (includes body worship and a breeding kink)

Warnings: smut/nsfw content, cunnilingus (reader receiving), swearing, body worship, breeding kink/unprotected sex (please wear condoms irl)

"Come on, babe, just tell me what my gift is already!" Stu begged for what seemed like the thousandth time that day, clasping his hands together as he dropped down to his knees in front of you. God, he was always so dramatic. "Please, babe, please, please, pl-"

"You say please one more time and you're not getting anything until New Year's," you warned in a threatening tone, something that got him to shut up pretty quickly.

His family was going away on some type of trip during the holidays, so you'd agreed to exchange gifts with each other early. He'd already given yours to you, but you'd been holding off on returning the favor, wanting to have him begging for it first, which is certainly what he did.

"Babe-" He began before you cut him off with a stern look.

"I'm going to let you eat me out, and then afterwards you can breed me all you want," you said after a moment or so as you finally revealed your gift to him.

The second you said that, his jaw dropped, his face splitting into a wide grin mere moments later. "Oh, baby, that's the best gift a guy could ever ask for," he excitedly replied as he stared up at you from the spot where he was still kneeling on the floor.

"I figured you'd enjoy it," you spoke with a teasing smirk as you reached out to place your finger under his chin, tilting his head up. "Stay here for me while I get undressed. I'll let you know when you can join me on the bed."

He nodded his head eagerly in understanding. As much as he wanted to be able to rip your clothes off you himself, he also didn't want to have to wait until he came back from his trip to get his gift if you decided to punish him for his eagerness.

You stripped yourself naked before laying down on the bed, spreading your legs as you made a come hither motion with your fingers. He lept off his spot on the floor the moment you gave him the okay and not a second later, quickly scrambling to rid himself of his own clothing before joining you.

Despite how needy he was, he still took the time to worship every single inch of your body first, placing sloppy kisses all along your chest and down your stomach as his hands caressed any and every part that his lips didn't reach.

When he ate you out, it was like a starved man who'd gone days without having any food to eat. His broad hands were placed firmly on your thighs, keeping your legs open so they couldn't close around his head.

Soft pants and moans escaped from you as you laid there, one of your hands moving down to grip at his hair, directing his head so that his nose would bump against your clit as he eagerly ran his tongue through your sopping wet folds.

"Mrph-" He made a muffled sound of delight at your hand in his hair, one that traveled from your pussy all the way down into your very core.

"Fuck-" You swore loudly as you came for the first time, your legs already shaking from the intensity of your orgasm. It took you a moment or so to regain your bearings and catch your breath, something that certainly wasn't helped by the way Stu still had his head shoved between your thighs. "Enough already," you scolded while pushing his face away, causing him to look up at you with a childish pout.

"Aw, but babe! C'mon, I wasn't finished yet," he whined like a petulant toddler who was refusing nap time.

"Do you want the second half of your gift or not?" You asked in a serious tone that made him shut up right away. "That's what I thought. Now come over here and fuck me already."

"Yowza- Yes, sir," he said with a wide grin as he moved further on top of you, pushing down his boxers just far enough to be able to pull his cock out. He pumped it a few times using his fist before lining it up with your entrance and slipping it inside.

It wasn't hard to tell how excited he was given the way he started to move the second he was inside you, barely even giving you the proper time to adjust. "Christ, baby, you feel so good-" He commented as his hands moved down to grab onto your hips as he roughly thrusted in and out of you. This was the first time you'd ever allowed him to fuck you without a condom on, and he was loving every second of it.

"Ngh- You're so big-" You whined loudly as your arms moved to wrap around his neck, your hands clawing at his shoulderblades. "Can't wait until you cum in me-"

"Yeah? You want me to cum inside you, fill you up so that you can get nice and pregnant for me?" He questioned with a sly smirk while wrapping your legs around his waist so he could plunge his cock in even deeper, your walls fluttering around him uncontrollably.

You nodded at his words, digging your nails into his shoulders as you began moving your hips up in time with his, desperately seeking friction. "Yes- Need it- Need you- Fill me up, please-"

It was getting harder and harder for him to hold himself back at your pleas. "Are you gonna cum for me, baby, huh? You gonna cum for me, too?" One of his hands found its way down to your swollen clit, his thumb rubbing at it harshly in a way that had you letting out a loud, drawn-out moan.

When he came, so did you, his hot, sticky seed filling you up to the brim as your walls clenched tightly around him from the sensation of his tip brushing against that extra sensitive spot within you. Neither of you spoke for a moment or so after as you tried to catch your breath, your chests rapidly rising and falling with each. "That was amazing," you muttered once you were able to speak again.

Stu gave you a sly smirk at your words, rolling his hips against yours in a way that had you mewling. "Yeah? Wanna go for another round?"

"Fine, but-" you began as you flipped him over onto his back so that you were on top of him now. "-I get to be on top this time."

His smirk widened into a full blown grin at that, and it was clear you'd be getting no protests from him on the matter. "You're the boss, babe."

End notes: is this good?? Idk I hope so

Likes < reblogs | comments are greatly appreciated | requests are currently open

Main masterlist | Scream masterlist | Ficmas 2024 masterlist | wanna be added to my taglist?

🏷 taglist: @missmewts @ghot-girl @taecube @corn3liiia @gilmore-angel @your-next-daydream @alexxavicry @noisy-dumb-piece-of-shit @lovelyy-moonlight @theonetruepotato87 @kirschface @caplanreblogsfics @merlinbtch (if you're crossed out it means I couldn't tag you for some reason)

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mayullla · 1 year ago

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🥀🐝 can i have a soft yandere venti please? thank you!

Title: Cupid's Lover

Character(s): Venti (Genshin Impact) Warnings/tags: Greek mythology-inspired (Cupid), love potion, "consensual" at first but later more dubious, "mutual" love (toxic relationship), Yandere Venti x Yandereish reader

[ - A little present~! Event - Closed - ]

Venti always adores the day of couples as a cupid. He would go out looking after the couples that hold hands and watching those who confess their love to the person they had feelings for. The day is filled with flowers, roses, pink and red cards, presents, and chocolates.

Venti had always been a huge fan of liquor chocolates. In exchange for taking them from the shop, he would make sure the cashier would find love that day or, if they were already married, create a memory between their partner that they would never forget.

While taking a swig from the champagne bottle (it was a special occasion, of course, a special day!), Venti would look for those who needed a little more love in the day. He flew high in the sky, holding a bow in one hand and love arrows in a leather bag strapped to his waist.

He aimed at those who had potential, firing arrows that caused love at first sight or maybe a meet-cute to happen as he watched his victims become flustered between themselves. Whether something happens, though, was up to them.

Venti's arrows were never potent. They never forcefully caused someone to fall in in love. Rather than love at first sight, it was more of an attraction towards the person, a potential that one could give a chance to. Venti never drenched his arrows with the love potion like fountain water, instead letting them touch only the tips of the arrowhead.

Venti was never fond of the idea of forceful love. He wanted to push humans a little, but if they chose to do nothing, he would never force it on them. It was their freedom to choose, and that was his thought. If nothing happened, then there was always another chance later on for that person to find love.

Venti had always been so fond of Valentine's Day, not only because it was the day of love but also because it was an anniversary.

As the day passed, he watched as others finally returned indoors, whether it was to their own homes or their lovers. It was also his time to leave after aiming a few more arrows toward those lonely on the streets. He flew to the clouds where his home was,

where his special mortal lover was.

Floating down to the clouds, he opened the door and sang your name. Nicknames flew out of his mouth as he sang poems and songs about your love for each other. Laughter he heard as his face was held by soft hands, a soft greeting, and then soft lips on his.

Venti's eyes were open, looking at yours, filled with pink and love towards the person who looked back at him just as obsessively. Holding your waist, pulling you closer to him and deeper into this insanity, letting you indulge yourself in his love.

He was the one who fell in love with you first, a love at first sight, but you were the one who fell harder. It was a consensual love. Venti was a little obsessive sometimes, yet you didn't seem to care; rather, you took delight in it more than anything. His love and his obsession were yours, and your love and time were his.

To the world, it was obvious that the two of you were so in love with each other and that nobody could stand in your way. Venti asked to be with you forever, and the world gave him the permission, turning you into a demi-human, one who would not die, who would not age, nor grow sick. You would die the moment he did, yet a lot argued the point that even without it, both of you would rather die than live in a world without the other.

"My love, I miss you so much," Venti whined, holding you tighter, and you chuckled in his arms, holding his body against yours just as tightly. Venti watched you nuzzle yourself into his neck as if craving for his touch after so long, even though he left only this morning. You could not stand to be apart from him, and as time flew, the more and more you craved him.

You could think of nothing else but him, nothing more than his love, his approval, and his touches. You did everything he would ask, waiting for your rewards whenever you were finished, and would become mad when you were apart from him, even if you knew where he left too. You could not handle the loneliness away from him, and nobody else could help you either. Moments he was gone, you would sometimes throw yourself into cleaning and cooking. Venti even gave you a little garden for you to handle when he was gone, yet the emptiness in your heart was difficult to contain.

You wanted nothing else but to be close to him.

Did you know, angel, that today is our anniversary?" Venti said as you looked at him with doe eyes, recognizing his words. Love and lust deepened in your eyes at the implications.

"Here it is!" Venti showed, a childish grin on his lips as he awkwardly placed the potion between you. His face turned red as he watched yours looking and craving that very potion, the very water that had caused you to become like this.

It was something that he had suggested long ago, a little lovers' ritual for your anniversary. In his arms, cuddling on the bed, he asked you with puppy dog eyes if you could drink the water from a certain fountain. You were surprised at his idea. Wanting to show you how amazing it was he sat up and told you about the fountain that could cause one to fall in love.

Before, even at your worst, you still lived and acted like a normal human. You had other small hobbies that you did while he was away, yet that all changed when the two of you started to drink that water. A cup he held out to you, another one in his other hand for himself. You took the cup and poured it down his lips and let him do the same, accepting the water into your body.

Both of you knew how this could turn into something bad, yet the two of you were so in love, so high in love that it didn't matter if the two of you fell even further.

A liquid escaped your lips, and Venti watched as your eyes became hazy, unable to focus on anything but him. Losing all your strength to even stand as you continued to look at him with nothing but love. Venti held you in his arms, so delighted that you accepted this. He could not be even happier than this.

The fountain wasn't meant to be consumed like that. If an arrow dripped in it, it was enough to cause someone to fall in love. It was not meant to be drunk in a goblet. While Venti would experience only little of the effects, you, even if you had become somewhat magical, were still a human. The water melted your mind, unable to think of anything but becoming a daze. Love would become an obsession, and if not filled every moment, it would leave an empty husk.

You could not think of anyone else but him, just as much as Venti could not think of anything else other than you.

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the-goddess-of-mischief-writing · 1 year ago

Text

London calling

Summary; Price is invited to a military event, you're his plus one. A night of socialising and teasing leads to a hot night back at the hotel.

Pairing: Cpt. John Price x reader (sunshine!universe)

Rating: Explicit

CHAPTER NO/ONESHOT: Onehsot

Word; 12.5k

Warnings; alcohol consumption (drink in moderation), SMUT (18+ mdni), oral (m-receving), dirty talk, p-in-v, d/s themes, unprotected sex, captain!kink

Author; @the-goddess-of-mischief-writing

A/N: Where's the nearest wall I can bang my head against? I need this man so bad and that's why you get 12k upon my return💀😭

SUNSHINE UNIVERSE MASTERLIST

If not for the Christmas lights dangling almost in line with your window, the quickly diminishing daylight soon would've shone with its absence within the room. Dusk was approaching, if not already present, but not with its rosy summer glory, but a gloomy and yellowy-grey sky of early winter.

Things were still a scale of grey and dark rather than white. Even though some stray white flakes had fallen when you arrived yesterday, they'd melted even before hitting the pavement. And, if it had been cold enough, pedestrians still would've trambled it into mush, and cars would've melted it with their heat.

You put on the small pendant earrings you'd brought as you glanced out the window and down at the people mulling about on the streets.

Most had shopping bags in their hands, everyone seemingly in a hurry. You didn't need to see their faces whip left and right to find the next store they could steer towards. The ant-like stir of people was enough to know Christmas shopping was in full swing.

A heavy breath escaped you, your eyes flittering back to the mirror.

You ran your hands down the fabric wrapped around your body. The material felt cool beneath your sweaty palms as you tried to brush out any wrinkles from the dress. Impossible, seeing how you'd gotten it from the tailor this morning and barely touched it inside its casing.

You took another deep breath, one hand raising until your palm rested over the centre of your chest, fingers draped over your bared clavicles. There's a prickling sensation beneath your hand, resembling the crowd's irregular movement outside. If you concentrated enough, you could almost feel how it vibrated, causing your heart to do an uncomfortable double beat that quickly pushed the air from your lungs before you instinctively inhaled.

"Not goin' to faint on me, are you, love?" Your eyes flicker sideways, landing on John as he emerges from the hotel room's bathroom.

"Might just now", you say breathlessly for an entirely different reason than the edginess causing the prickly sensation in your body.

The man now making his way towards you is the same one you travelled to London with. And yet, there's no jacket ladened with a furry lapel warming him from the chilly temperatures, no beanie atop his head to shield him from the consistent gusts of wind. Now, he's dressed smart.

Whatever event he's invited to is military in nature. So, while John mentioned that it was a black-tie event for civilians, it was ceremonial for him, meaning you would see him in his formal military uniform. But nothing had prepared you for how regal he now looked in his dark blue suit, polished black leather crossbelt with shoes to match, and the row of medals proudly displayed on his chest. The only missing thing was the matching hat pressed close to his body beneath his arm.

"Flatterin' an old man?" Your gaze locks with his again from having roved over his body, noticing the creases in the corner of his eyes as he stops beside you.

"You deserve every ounce of flattery when looking like that". You turn to John just as he settles one of his hands on the small of your back. In return, you raise your fingers, barely brushing them against the underside of his chin as you lean up and kiss him.

"Mhm, don't look too shabby yourself", he mumbles against you as you pull away from the brief exchange.

"Thank you". You turn towards the mirror again, eyeing yourself. "I didn't know if it was too much".

"Could never be".

You'd meant it to be a quick look, but your attention stayed on your reflection, eyes flittering over your form.

There were a few beats of silence until John stepped up behind you, the hand previously on your back sliding to accommodate the new position. You follow his larger frame in the mirror, simultaneously feeling and seeing how his hands settle on your hip.

"Nervous?" Those blue eyes meet yours in the reflective surface, knowing. You release yet another sigh, head ducking momentarily as you lean into the sturdy bulk of John at your back.

"Yeah", you breathe, the admittance not the first of its kind.

When the news had been brought up that John needed to attend some military event in London, you hadn't blinked twice. However, when he mentioned the invitation inquired about a plus one upon acceptance, and he'd asked you, you'd looked at him wide-eyed.

"There's no need to worry, love". John dips his head, kissing the juncture of your neck. "You know nothing is expected from you".

Your shoulders slump, hands seeking his as he wraps his arm around your waist. The weight was a pleasant pressure around your mid-drift while his skin was warm beneath your hand.

"I know, but-". You bite your lip, shrugging timidly, eyes meeting John's in the mirror. "It's a military event".

"Nervous 'bout meetin' some colleagues of mine?"

"Not just any type of colleagues", you mumble, making John let out a gentle chuckle.

"You get along great with the lads".

"That's when we're at the pub, not a formal occasion with a lot more of the same kind of people around". You huff in protest. Though Ghost wouldn't attend the event, Johnny and Kyle thankfully would. So, while John won't be the only familiar face in the crowd, that's still only three out of everyone invited.

"I just don't feel like I fit the picture". You shrug once, gaze dropping to watch you play with John's fingers. Your fingertips trail over his knuckles, then up and down his digits. Only when John interwines your hands does your motion stop and attention return to him.

"You'll fit because you'll be there with me". John's gaze was intense as he spoke, voice a steady, deep reassurance. "The lads nor I fancy these occasions, but we need to attend nonetheless. Your presence will undoubtedly make it more pleasant for me, at least".

You smile, craning your neck so you no longer watch him through the mirror but look up at him. John dips his chin in return.

"You're good at motivational speeches".

There's a chuckle before he nudges his nose against yours, moving closer. "Gotten good at 'em through the years". Your chuckle is sealed into your mouth as he slots his lips with yours.

Your muscles relax as you lean into him, feeling the warmth of his body seep into yours and soothe you just like a warm blanket. Even when you part, you linger within each other's presence.

John was the first to pull away entirely, his eyes falling from yours as he did. You watch him take a step back, keeping one hand on your hip as he lets his gaze rove over your body.

"God, you're gorgeous", he mutters, taking a full once over before those blues lock with yours again.

You bite your lip, a smile breaking through nonetheless. "Would hope so. You helped me pick, after all".

"Anythin' to make my missus feel pretty". Your smile widens even more.

John had known you were nervous about the event, reluctant to even agree to be his plus one at first. So, he'd done everything to make you comfortable.

When you'd had half a breakdown while digging through your closet, only to find nothing appropriate to wear, John sat with you as you looked at dresses online. After seeing nothing that felt right there either, he'd booked a weekend trip to London to visit the tailor he usually entrusted when his formal attire needed a sow-up.

It had been your first trip together, strolling through the city, having dinners, playing tourist despite not really sightseeing. Though one of the days, between walking and dining, you'd visited the tailor's atelier.

For once, John only sat down on one of the plush armrests; no need to be attended to. Instead, it was your time in the spotlight, the storage manager ushering you to the racks of dresses, instructing you to pick whatever caught your eye to try on.

None of the dresses were especially embellished. Still, they weren't simple but elegant.

You'd switched between examining the dresses, showing John to get his opinion when you found any you liked, to testing them. Although he didn't complain once about you taking your time, chatting to the owner with an old familiarity, even you were tired when you found a dress that was just right.

However, the sluggishness only brought on by trying on clothes disappeared the second the owner had taken your measurements and you stood by the pay desk. A deposit was needed for the dress, and the rest would be paid on the day you picked it up. But the pre-payment had been enough to nearly make you baulk and glance at John to see if he was okay with spending so much. However, the man at your side hadn't even blinked at the number.

After you'd bid the tailor goodbye and exited the store, you did ask about it. Though not unfamiliar with John's gentlemanly fashion of paying for things, how confidently he answered left you at a loss for an answer, only able to shake your head with a smile when he offered his arm to you. 'I want to, love. It's the least I could do when draggin' you to this spectacle. Now lead me wherever you can find some jewellery matchin' the dress".

"Would you help your girl feel even prettier?" You hold up the necklace bought to fit the dress. God, he'd spoiled you rotten for this event.

"My pleasure". John threw his hat on the bed, overtaking the jewellery from you. With a slight move of his head, he signalled you to turn around.

Despite facing the mirror again, your eyes were cast down as you tipped your head slightly forward. The glittering metal links suddenly pass your vision as he raises it over your head, the necklace falling over your collarbones as he lowers it. Feeling his fingers brush against your skin, not long after, a barely audible click indicates the piece of jewellery is secured around your neck.

When you raise your head, your eyes immediately fall to the necklace, your fingers trailing over it. A smile slowly shifts your lips upwards as you follow the pretty drop down your sternum. The gentle bow of your lips remains as you turn, craning your neck as you pout your lips, insisting that John meets you in a kiss. And he's never one to turn you down.

"Thank you", you offer after the sweet peck of gratitude, to which he hums in return.

You feel how his blue gaze follows you when moving towards the desk that became your makeup table for the night. Even more so when you reach for the lipstick you'd saved to apply until now.

Crouching slightly so your face aligns with the much smaller mirror on the wooden desktop, you carefully outline your lips before colouring the rest until an even shade coats them.

"What do you think?" You say, straightening up again. As you press your lips together, you put on the lid and place the lipstick in your purse, all in the motion of turning to face the man almost transfixed with you. "Thought the red matched those". You motion with your finger to the ribbons, half-red and half-other colours, attached to his medals.

"It does". You parry the hand reaching for you with a shift to the side, knowing that tone of voice from John would only mess up your makeup.

He arches a brow at your move, but you only arch both of yours in return as you put your clutch beneath your arm.

"We'll be late", you claim. Even so, you can't deny you enjoy John's attention and the look in his eyes. He makes you feel pretty, desired. It completely overhauls your stomach's previous knots.

Deciding to tease him just the slightest, you pop your index finger much more dramatically than needed into your mouth, pursing your lips around the digit before pulling it out slowly, all whilst keeping eye contact with the man watching you. You smile at John after your finger leaves your mouth, now not afraid of red smearing your teeth thanks to the ring of colour around the middle of your finger.

"Goodness, women", he groans, hand trailing over his lower face. You can only giggle as you pluck a tissue from the box on the desk, rubbing off the lipstick as you slip around John. "Could think you want to be late".

You throw the paper into the bin beside the dresser as you pass it to the short hall leading to the door, flashing a much more satisfied smile over his reaction than previously graced your lips.

"Good things come to those who are patient. You just have to wait until after the event for me to paint something else a pretty red".

You catch another deep, grumbly sound coming from him, your previous display more than enough to conjure precisely the picture you insinuated.

As you turn forward, you chuckle again, plucking your heels from the shoe stand built into the dresser. What you hadn't anticipated was for your shoes to be plucked from your grip seconds later and to find John standing close behind you with his retrieved hat under his arm.

You send him a questioning look that he ignores as he kneels. Unable to do anything else, you shift to rest your back against the dresser and follow along when he taps his kneecap.

You raise your foot so the front pad rests against John's knee before he gingerly grabs the back of your ankle, and the pump is slipped on. He gives you time to find the balance on your now-heeled foot as he drops it before repeating the process. However, before letting you go this time, he raises your foot just slightly as he dips his head, kissing the lowest part of your shin, all the while looking up at you.

"Gonna hold you to your words, love", he declares, dropping your foot to the ground.

You swallow, going from looking down to up as he rises from the floor. "Don't mind if you do".

"Good", he kisses your cheek, heeding your desire for him not to accidentally, or very consciously, destroy your makeup. "Let us be on the way", he says, grabbing your coats from the racks.

***

The venue was beautiful: an old building with pillared walls, a second floor acting as a running balcony overlooking the ground floor and high vaulted glass roofs that stare into the dark sky above. You'd only looked down from the stunning decoration and lighting when you ascended the stairs to the main floor, lifting your dress to not catch on the fabric.

You don't know how long ago that had been, but since then, you and John haven't been given much time alone.

Each and every minute, the man who either offered his arm for you to hold or kept a hand on the small of your back introduced you to someone he knew in one way or another. Although politely greeting them with either a nod or a handshake, there were too many names and too fleeting conversations for you to remember any of them.

Only now did you get the chance to breathe. But rather than feel at ease for the momentary respite, you'd hastily moved from the midst of the crowd to the edge of the room where the table of aperitifs and drinks was, a plate filled with bite-sized food in your hands.

You would've shared them with John if he hadn't been whisked away a few moments prior. Albeit he'd been reluctant to leave your side, even when it was some affiliate from the U.S. who asked for a few minutes of his time, you'd reassured him it was fine.

You'd told yourself you could survive at least a few minutes without John and that the buffet could keep you company enough. And though you weren't as uncomfortable as you previously thought you would be, the thought of socialising with someone you'd either met already or not at all felt... awkward.

You wouldn't call it shyness. Far from it, you were curious about some of those you'd met who sported black smokings, cocktail dresses or gowns. But, out of those civilians you'd met so far, most of them were not like you.

Your sole connection to this event, to the military, was John. The other considered civilians had seemingly much closer ties, most acting as private corporate sponsors for military-tied causes through funds or services. While finding it interesting, you didn't know how much of the stuff was confidential, and you would much rather not make a scene just for some small talk. Neither did many have a plus one you could initiate a conversation with. So, the buffet became your company.

Your gaze travels over the mass of people as you plop the last canapé into your mouth. And as if the universe decided to be kind, you spot a familiar face lingering at the other edge of the room.

With all the new people John had introduced you to and recently also had to part from you to speak with, exhaustion was starting to creep up on you, along with the feeling of being lost in a crowd of still most unfamiliar people. Hence, you quickly discard your plate to instead grab two flutes of champagne before moving straight across the floor.

With people moving almost sluggishly, if at all, around the room, it was no wonder a pair of brown eyes combined with a friendly smile welcoming you met your long before you joined the very man whose attention you'd gotten.

"Kyle". The man nods in response to his name as you get close enough to greet him. The silent hello looks incredibly more formal while dressed similarly to John. "How are you?" You slow until stopping before him.

"Good as can be", his voice was light, making your brows raise upon the humour in his tone. He was the first of John's closest circle you'd seen tonight; Johnny had yet to arrive. Even so, by the looks of it, the Brit looked like he rather wouldn't be here at all.

Kyle carried himself straight-backed, faint smile in the corner of his mouth, one hand behind his back while the other rested along his side. And yet, despite the at-eased posture and expression upon his features, something told you it was entirely for show.

You chuckle, handing him the flute you'd brought. "Yeah, not really my setting either", you admit in a low voice.

Kyle cocks his head, smile widening as he shifts on his feet, accepting the drink you'd stretched forth. "What suggest I don't fancy this?".

"Don't know, but something about the all too delighted expression gave me a hint", you reply, sarcasm lacing your tone, on par with the amount that previously laden his sentence. That's the first time you see Kyle's shoulders drop somewhat as he chuckles, his posture less flawless as he looks more relaxed than previously.

You smile at his reaction, stepping forward to stand beside rather than in front of him. His brown gaze followed you as you did.

"Why ain't this your kind of setting then?". Your eyes fall on Kyle just as he shifts to look over the crowd.

"Too many of the older generation has gotten stuck and too comfortable behind their desks to remember what it's like out on the field. The rest are mostly snobs who think money and chest candy is our motivation". You bite your lip to stop the laughter rising from your throat at his quick remark. "Why isn't this your setting then? You fit in with the dress".

"Calling me a snob?" You raise a playful brow, a smile tugging the corner of your mouth.

"That you're here, talking to me, says enough", Kyle retorts, eyes falling on you.

You chuckle, but it turns into a sigh when your gaze breaks from his, fleeting over the crowd. "It just makes me nervous, I guess".

"Why?"

"Well, for the same reason as when I first met you guys". You glance at him. "Just feels like I don't fit in with all of you military people, especially now, at this event".

"Didn't do too bad of an impression on us back then. Especially not Price". You duck your head, a bashful smile bowing your lips that's still present when you look at the man at your side again.

"Perhaps not, but as you said, many here are high-ranking military personnel or snobs that are more difficult to get along with than you lot".

"Cheers to that", he chuckles, raising his glass of champagne. You mimicked his movement and raised your flute in a small tip, you both taking a sip from your drinks as they fell from their elevated position.

Your eyes glide over the crowd, and as if it's second nature, you search for John again. While having tried to spot him previously, you hadn't been successful. Although this time around, you find him.

"He's good at that". You observe John as he talks to the same man who'd whisked him away previously, though now they're also joined by a woman.

Your comment pulls Kyle's attention in the same direction as yours.

He releases a huff not soon after, the reaction making your brows arch and your head turn towards him. His brown eyes flicker down to lock with yours, a humorous glint in them.

"The old man is good at handling the higher-ups and other connections. That's why he does most of the talk for us". His eyes flicker sideways, probably towards the group you talked about, before they return to you. "Doesn't mean he despises it any less than the rest of us in most cases".

You turn to look at John, eyes narrowing as you closely watch him interact with the man and women. While he seems formal when talking to the man and more cordial with the women, he still doesn't seem relaxed. His posture is stiff, one arm bent behind his back as if wanting to pose fittingly to the occasion, his other hand clutching a champagne flute. Untouched.

Pissy excuse of fizzy water, he'd said once you asked if he wanted to share an old bottle you found in your apartment from god knows when, but acceptable enough that it wouldn't taste like the piss John labelled it as.

"That's why he brought you". Kyle's voice pulls you out of your thoughts. "He's going to use you as a scapegoat the moment it's deemed enough for him to be here". You bit your lip to quiet your snicker, shaking your head.

"He isn't", you argue, only partly believing it yourself.

"Oh, he will". Your head turned towards the new but familiar voice, finding Johnny, dressed similarly to both John and Kyle, approaching from the crowd. "Don't put it past him".

You immediately split into a grin. "Johnny, how are you?" You step forward, engulfing the man in a hug, getting anchored to the Scot's side as his arm remains over your shoulders.

"Think Gaz gave ya a brief 'nough for us", the Scotsman formally greets the young Brit with a raise of his brows and an upward nod of his head as he directs his attention towards him. Kyle only reciprocated the motion, not answering his question. "Ya gonna drink that, lass?"

You shake your head fondly, Johnny taking the flute of champagne from your hand as you give it to him.

"Drunkard", you mumble, rolling your eyes as he gulps down your drink, only to provide you with a cheeky wink when he's emptied the glass.

"Where's Price?" You're about to answer that he's socialising. But you don't get the opportunity before a voice cuts in.

"Savin' my missus from a drunk Scotsman, it seems". Your head snaps towards John's voice, a smile unfolding as you see him nearing your group while collective chuckles emerge from the men around you. "Easy on the drinks tonight, Sergeant". John's eyes switch from yours as he directs his attention to Johnny, the quirk of his lips now reaching his eyes.

"All stereotypes ain't true, Captain. Besides-". The Scot lets go of you, his arm falling as he steps to the side, giving John room to step into the semi-circle. As if you never left his side, his arm naturally falls around your waist, anchoring you to his broad frame again. "-can't get drunk on this, know it yaself", Johnny chuckles.

John hums in agreement, swirling the golden liquid in his flute with the hand hanging by his side. You tap his flank, and he looks down at you. As you motion for the glass with a nod, he gives it to you without any protest, probably delighted to get rid of the drink.

You happily sip it, your throat not feeling as tight anymore when John's with you and you're surrounded by familiar faces.

"How's the evening been then, Captain?" John shifts to look at Kyle.

"Not too shabby, lot of talkin' as always", he says. "Where the two of you been then?" His eyes shift from his fellow Brit to Johnny, who's standing with the hand not clutching the empty glass in his pocket.

"You know how London traffic is". Kyle offers with a one-shouldered shrug. "I'm not complaining about it this time around though".

"Only means you need to stay longer", John huffs, arm tightening around you. You can't help but shoot the younger Brit a look, an amused smile barely hidden beneath the rim of your glass. He cocks his head slightly, an unspoken 'what did I say' lingering between the two of you. "You two conspirin'?" Your eyes flitter back to John as he bumps his hip into yours.

"No", Kyle says as your eyes lock with the man at your side. John's eyes shine, a brow quirked in intrigue. It schooled the expression of rigidity he had previously, showing how at ease he became around his men despite the setting.

"What he said". You smile sweetly at John, fluttering your lashes, causing a ruckus of laughter around you.

"Be careful, Captain. That one is a sly thing". Johnny claps him on the shoulder.

"I know".

"Don't paint me in a bad light", you joke, nudging John's side with your elbow. The man in question chuckles when watching the pout you send him.

"The lot rub off on me", he indirectly chides Johnny and Kyle, both of whom make faux hurtful sounds upon the comment. "I better steal you away from them and introduce you to better company".

"Who could possibly be better company than us? The silent grump ain't here anyway". The Scotsman questions, glancing around the space with a humoured look until it returns.

"Laswell is better than the two of you together", John returns with a chuckle, his arm tightening around your waist to signal that you soon would be moving to meet whoever this Laswell was.

Upon what's apparently a familiar name, Johnny's brows jump upwards. "She made it here? Didn't think she would".

John only answers with an affirming hum. "Behave now", he offers in goodbye while you give them a wave before he tugs you with him.

As John directs the two of you through the crowd, you soon realise where he's taking you. The woman he's leading you towards is the same one he'd been talking to previously.

You give him a curious glance when you note she isn't dressed in any military uniform, only a long-sleeved jumpsuit. Even so, when you turn to face her again, the woman has noticed your nearing presence and turned toward you, eyes regarding you in a manner too in-depth to be a civilian.

Her eyes flicker sideways as you stop before her, most probably to the man at your side. It's brief but enough for her face to soften and a hint of a smile to quirk her mouth.

"Kate Lawsell", her American accent is apparent as her eyes fall to meet yours again upon the greeting. You're not late to shake the hand she stretched forth, introducing yourself in return. "So you're John's sweetheart?"

You shrug with a smile as you feel John's thumb start brushing circular patterns through the silky material of your dress. "Guess I am". She hums, the corner of her lip twitching a bit further upwards.

"Almost thought he made you up with the lack of evidence about his special someone".

You chuckle while practically feeling how John rolls his eyes. "S'no need to carry a photo with me everywhere".

"Expected it from a traditional one like you", she shrugs one of her shoulders. Their exchange makes you smile, head cocking slightly.

"So, where do you know each other from?"

"I work for C.I.A., deal a fair share with the 141 and that British Captain of yours". Your eyes widen, lips parting in a silent oh as your eyes shift to John, then back to Kate.

"That ain't half-bad". Your comment brings out a chuckle from the dark blonde woman.

"Say that when trying to keep any kind of leash on him". Kate nods towards John, a conspiring look in her eyes, one he gruffs at.

"That so?" You face the man at your side with an amused expression, catching the look he sends the woman opposite him. "Am I hearing that you're a nuisance at work?"

John's eyes flicker to you, his features softening as his head dips in a shake and small huff of laughter. "You women always like to team up".

Despite his comment, you talked with Kate for a few more minutes, getting to know more about her, until separate parties dragged her and John off. This time around, however, you got tugged along to the new conversation, with no choice but to remain glued to the brunette's side as he didn't let up on his hold.

Although relieved to stay with him again, your feet start to feel sore, and your body tired. Consequently, you slowly let John take more room in the conversation as you fell silent, still with a smile present to appear interested in the conversation.

You take a deep breath, careful not to let your exhale sound like a sigh. Even so, John caught it, giving you a brief look to check in on you. You spare him a glance, attempting a soothing smile to fend off any potential concern.

His eyes flitter over your face before he turns forward again, offering a chuckle at something the soldier said. You'd completely missed what it was but mimicked John with a much softer sound huffed through your nose.

You try to concentrate after that, as it's the only polite thing to do. But god, you find your mind wandering to every little ache suddenly emerging.

Shifting the weight on your feet subtly, you try to move your hips to ease the twinge in your spine. Unsuccessful, you straighten your back, rolling your shoulders to try a different approach. Through your peripheral, you notice your squirming caught John's attention again, his gaze flickering sideways momentarily. Soon after, his thumb starts rubbing the small of your back with slightly more pressure just to be a subconscious movement.

John had been attentive to you the whole night, but if you could catch his attention this easily, you had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn't only your concentration that started to stray or energy to wither.

Even if you probably would do both of you a favour by asking if it was time to leave, you didn't want to interrupt their conversation, so you simply let your head fall sideways onto John's shoulder, content with feeling how his kneading thumb eased the discomfort in your lower back.

Thankfully, whoever this Miller was, he didn't keep a long-winded conversation with John as Generals had. Instead, the soldier of equal rank soon bid you both goodbye, explaining his departure as not wanting to take up too much of your time. That made your smile more genuine than it had been while listening to the two men for the last few minutes.

As you sigh lightly, a gentle press against your back suddenly steers you forward. You don't protest when John moves you through the crowd, especially not when noticing he's leading you to the outskirts of it.

"How you feelin', love?" John ducks his head to ask the question as your pace slows.

"I'm good, just a bit exhausted after standing for so long", you return with a shrug as you stop at the edge of the crowd, between the columns lining the wall. You tilt your head to look at John as he stands opposite you. Blue eyes meet yours as his hand moves to the dip of your waist before they skate over the crowd.

You watch John as he does, feeling his finger through your dress as they rap against you, almost as if thinking about something.

Gaze falling, you follow his profile: the slope of his nose, the sharp line of his jaw accentuated by the angle of his head, his beard shining with the oil he'd worked into it after his earlier shower. God, he's too bloody handsome tonight.

From nowhere, you get the urge to lean up and kiss the skin of his throat right above his collar. Though quelling the desire to plant a red mark matching the outline of your lips on his throat here, amongst all these people, that's all it takes for your mind to spiral.

Gonna hold you to your words, love.

His sentence from the hotel room echoes in your mind, and suddenly, you can't wait any longer to be the scapegoat Kyle had dubbed you. Sick and tired of this event already.

When you take a step closer to John, his attention is quickly pulled back towards you. With his now undivided attention on you, you lightly grab the tie tucked beneath his jacket, tugging slightly on it to straighten the material to its previous perfection a few hours earlier.

Satisfied with the minor fix you'd done to his attire, you pat his chest, eyes travelling upwards to lock with his not soon after.

John scrutinises your hands that remain close to where you'd fiddled with his tie rather than drop to your sides. When his blue gaze locks with yours, his head cocks. "What are you up to?"

"M'nothing, just wondering when it's acceptable to leave this event".

John's eyes narrow slightly before his brows rise. "Any special reason to why?"

"Just want to go back to the hotel". You made it evident that trailing your hands down his chest wasn't a coincidence but a conscious decision as you lowered them to pull your purse from beneath your upper arm. "Don't know what you're insinuating".

"You don't?" You only reply with a coy nuh-uh sound as you open your purse, pulling out the golden encasing housing your lipstick.

You'd touched up your makeup once throughout the evening, right after John left you to talk with whoever the American man had been, along with Kate, for the first time. As you do it now, blue eyes fall from yours, following your move of painting your lips in a new coat of red.

"You know very well what you're doin', love". His words are spoken slowly, but their edges are rough, frayed.

"Just playing my part as pretty arm candy". After putting away your lipstick again, you motion to your lips. "Want to help me so I don't get any lipstick on my teeth?" You form your lips into an o, knowing precisely what you're doing.

"Love...", he warns, fingers pressing into your waist.

"John?" You retaliate with a cock of your brow, only to shrug when he makes no move to help you.

Raising a finger, you place only the tip between your lips before pulling it out with a pop.

A repressed groan escapes John, head tilting backwards, eyes shut tightly. "You're doin' this to me on purpose", he grinds out.

"Of course I am", you giggle in return, using your other hand to rather unceremoniously rub away the red colour with your fingers. "So what's the choice? We staying a bit longer or-". You're not even allowed to finish the sentence before John's head tips forward again, and he does it for you.

"We're goin', now". His arm swiftly wraps around your waist to turn the both of you towards the exit.

"Can't play polite anymore?" You let yourself be carried along.

"Been plenty polite when all I've wanted the whole evenin' is to return to the hotel". John's hand scorches the place it pushes against the small of your back, guiding you straight to the very stairs you'd entered through hours ago. "Then you're pretty arse go about actin' up, provin' how much more I would've gotten done there than here", he grumbles, making you swat the side of his chest with a low, chastising John concerning the setting you're on. The man in question only sends you a look, daring you to argue against him, but after forcing his hand to take you back to the hotel, you can't.

There was a warm, eager air between you and John as you retrieved your coats and exited the venue. You shared glances, fleeting but heated locks of your eyes that had your body igniting. Touches setting you aflame even if his was much the same as throughout the evening but firmer, while yours were brief, teasing over his torso.

When John managed to hail a cab, he let you enter first, following seconds later and sitting down in the backseat with a low, frustrated sound.

He tugs his hat from his head, the other hand smoothening his hair. You both know there's a twenty-minute ride ahead of you when even half the time would've been too long and yet you watch him with amusement as his head thuds backwards.

He must feel your eyes on him as his head rolls to face you. You didn't need to say anything; your smile was enough to make him release a low, impatient grunt, eyes closing.

You chuckle, hand settling on John's thigh as you do. Apparently, he thinks there's an ulterior motive behind your action as his eyes snap open, sending you a warning look that, if anything, made you wish you had done something to deserve it. His large hand grabs yours to emphasise the message to not try anything, dropping it in your lap instead. Even so, he doesn't pull away afterwards, instead letting your fingers intertwine.

When finally rolling up to the hotel, John couldn't stop tapping his thumb against your hand as he paid for the cab, practically dragging you along when he exited the car.

With his hat in a white-knuckled grip and your hand in a gentler hold, the two of you moved through the lobby. You felt how fiercely John battled with himself to not stalk to the elevators but keep a pace that wouldn't draw attention and you could match.

It's always amusing seeing John like this, exhilarating if nothing. And that's why you can't help but poke the bear while waiting for the elevator.

You slip your hand from his, blue eyes immediately falling to you as your arm closest to him slides beneath his coat and around his waist, squeezing his mid-drift teasingly.

"Someone seems impatient". The end of your sentence is perfectly followed by the chime of the elevator arriving. Letting your hand drop after pressing your fingers into John's side, you stride into the empty space with a sway to your hips. "I wonder why". You look over your shoulder, a smile gracing your lips as you cock a brow.

John is hot on your heels, pressing the button to close the doors rather than waiting for them to do so.

Just when you turn to lean against the railing the furthest in, he takes the last step towards you, hands settling beside your own, caging you against the wall just as the door slides close.

"You should know what torture it's been havin' you this good-lookin' and unable to do anythin' the whole evenin'". John's words are rushed as his head dips close to your face.

"Ditto", you return in a hum, gaze flittering down and then up again. "There was a relatively empty second floor I thought about dragging you to".

"Fuckin' hell, don't say that", he groans, hand coming to cup the back of your neck, angling your face towards his.

Yet, before John can press his mouth against yours, the elevator suddenly halts on a floor too early to be yours.

He quickly drops his hand and moves so he doesn't corner you against the wall, even though he remains awfully close. Your eyes swiftly snap to the opening doors, schooling your features into a polite smile at the woman who steps into the elevator. She offers you a similar one before her eyes flicker to John. When they do, her eyebrows rise before they jump back to you.

For a few mortifying seconds, you fear she knows precisely what she interrupted until her smile becomes softer.

"If the two of you don't make a stunning pair", she remarks kindly, making John turn his head to look at her, his body still firmly angled towards you.

"Well, thank you", you answer for you both.

"My husband was also in the military", she directs the comment to you even if her eyes flitter to John when she continues. "But he never took me to those fancy events. The old man despised them like the plague".

"Seems like all of them do". You chuckle in return, patting John's side fondly.

The man in question remains remarkably silent, only muttering something under his breath. Your eyes switch to him, sending him a questioning look. Blue eyes return your stare as his head tilts to the right, just a notch, but your brows only pinch together, still not understanding what he's trying to silently get at. That is until his face sets and John angles his hips just slightly more into the upper part of your thigh, and you feel it.

You almost gasped at the considerable bulge in his pants that definitely would be in danger of showing. Yet, you manage not to, only letting your brows shoot up when you finally understand John's silence and the position he was adamant about keeping.

The woman, however, must have interpreted it like some coupley squabble as she chuckles at your interaction, pulling your attention to her.

"Young love, always so charming."

"Young?" John scoffs into your ear, his voice barely enough to be considered a whisper. "Got me feelin' like a bloody teen", he grouses over his predicament.

You duck your head, forehead falling against his shoulder as you muffle the chuckle bubbling in your throat.

While the man you hide your face against notices your shoulders jumping and sends you a glare, the woman again misinterprets your reaction.

"No need to be embarrassed. We've all been young once".

"Did you meet your husband young?" You shift the conversation when finally facing her, sure no trace of your previous amusement could be detected.

"Oh goodness, yes, even younger than the two of you", she motions to you and John with a wave. "Much more immature, too". You almost laugh out loud at that. And like previously, John notices, husking a low, pointed 'Don't laugh' into your ear.

"This one's a real gentleman." You turn to face John, smiling up at him despite being met by a stern expression. What the women don't see is the way your hand trails down, down over his stomach until the flat of your palm presses into the spot just above his groin.

John's jaw flexes, unable to snatch your hand and pull it away if not genuinely desiring to draw attention to what you're doing. But that doesn't stop his blue eyes from meeting yours as he lowly hisses, "And don't do that".

Then, the elevator suddenly lets out a ding as it stops.

"It was lovely to meet you youths, but this is my stop", the woman waves after the doors slide open, John craning his neck to watch her leave with a faint, for your eyes awfully forced, smile. "Have a great evening".

"You too!" You reciprocate her wave as she exits, receiving a friendly smile before the doors close.

Seconds, it takes seconds before your vision is once more filled by John.

"You... love-", he chuckles, nose scrunching as his head cocks to the side. "-oh, you are trouble".

"Don't be moody. You were called a youth", you chuckle. John only manages to open his mouth before the elevator chimes again, this time on your floor.

You know it was your saving grace from how those blue eyes had narrowed at you. Instead, he only exhales sharply as you grasp his hand, forcing him to follow you to the exit.

Although reaching the doors, you stall with one hand holding them open, peeking outside, head swivelling right and left down the corridor. Noticing the coast was clear, you tug John with you.

Even if no one was around, he walked close enough behind you that the slight problem in his pants would be hidden enough if you stumbled into someone.

Thankfully, you didn't meet anyone on the way to your room, sparing you from the embarrassing interaction that could've occurred. However, it enabled John to whip out the key card and more than a bit unceremoniously push you into your room once the light flashed green, the door barely slipping close before he chucked his hat to the side to pull you against him.

John's thick arm winds around your waist, pulling your body against his as his nose gently knocks against yours. Hot lips descending upon yours soon after, moulding your mouths together.

A groan vibrates against your lips, John's fingers digging into your ribcage and the side of your stomach. His near-desperate need to feel you against him makes your fingers curl into the nape of his neck, pulling him closer. The response is instantaneous, his tongue pushing into your mouth as he deepens the kiss. It's your time to release a pleased sound, something melting away from your body as hunger takes its place.

"Fuckin' hell", John nearly rips himself away from you as he grunts the words against your parted lips, hands enveloping your face as he lets his forehead rest against you. Heavy exhales puff against your face in an attempt to steady his heaving chest, to rein in himself. He doesn't remain like that for long, shifting backwards as his eyes flutter open.

John's gaze locks with yours, eyes considerably darker than usual. Sodalite rather than aventurine. A warm shiver runs down your spine, unable to continue meeting those blues due to the flush spreading through your body. And yet, despite the tangible tension, a chuckle travels up your throat when your flickering eyes halt at one spot on his face.

Your amusement and thumb swiping over John's lips to wipe away the lipstick now coating them in a faint red pop the feverish bubble, turning it somewhat softer, less desperate.

When the added colour fades, you finally lock eyes with John again, finding they've creased in the corners.

"Maybe we should get you out of this, so I don't go about tainting that, as well", you hum, fingers falling to toy with his white dress shirt, mindful to keep the thumb you'd wiped his lips with at bay. Only a deep hum escapes John, yet it's enough for you to make do with your suggestion.

Your fingers find the first golden button on his army jacket, unbuttoning that, then the next and all the ones until it falls open. Hands moving inside, you feel the warmth of his skin shielded beneath his dress shirt.

Your hands move up his chest, over his shoulders, until you move the dark blue jacket down his arms. John shrugs out of it, and while letting his wool coat drop to the floor, you're mindful of the jacket, grabbing it in one hand as you move him backwards by pressing your body against his, lips teasingly close but not kissing, only brushing as your breaths mingle.

When you're close enough, you drape his jacket over the chair by the desk before attempting to move on to the next piece of clothing. But apparently, you move too slow for John as he steps back, yanking his tie loose to tug over his head, throwing it to the side. The buttons on his shirt make a frustrated grunt leave him before it's tossed aside as well. While your eyes never leave him, you slip out of your coat, letting it fall to the floor with no greater care than he'd done his clothes seconds later.

Not only does your gaze drop to John's now-bared chest. Your hands move on their own, feeling him up, sliding over his pecs and the slight patch of brown hair covering them before they slide lower, over his stomach, reaching the happy trail beneath his navel. But too soon, your exploration of his burly upper body ends, John moving out of your reach as he steps backwards.

Not until his shins hit the edge of the bed and he sits down does he stop putting space between you.

You watch as his shoes are toed off, all while keeping eye contact with you. Not until John raises a finger, motioning for you to come closer, do you follow him.

You're about to straddle his lap when he stops you, making a twirly motion with his hand. Your head tilts even if you listen, turning your back to him. Gripping your hips, John steers you to sit on his thigh. You wobble slightly as you do, hands shooting to stabilise yourself by grabbing his hand and his other thigh as you press your feet to the floor to keep stable upon the muscular seat.

Once he notices you've found your balance, his big paws slide up your body until his fingers brush the back of your neck. There's barely an ounce of fiddling before you feel the clasp of the dress unhook, and the zipper descends.

Kisses are pressed against the nape of your neck, the top of your spine and a last one on your shoulder blade before John squeezes your hips, urging you to stand with a delicate push upwards and forward. As you do, the heavy fabric of the dress falls to the floor, collecting in a lustrous circle around your feet.

When turning to face the man whose attention never averted from you, only your necklace, panties, and heels are the remnants of your previous outfit.

"Always so fuckin' pretty beneath those things", John mumbles, hands rising from his sides. But, before his hands can reach for you, you settle one of your own on his equally naked chest, giving a gentle shove. But the brunette doesn't heed your want, not letting himself be budged an inch.

"Scoot up, John". You nod upward the bed, positioning one knee between his legs on the tiny sliver of the mattress available. He cocks his head in intrigue, hand grasping the back of your thigh, running up and down with gentle gropes.

"What you plannin', love?"

You press your lips together, John's eyes flickering downwards before returning in a slow trail upwards to meet your gaze. "Wanna be good after how I've teased you, Captain". Your voice drops, nearly entering a purr as you trail your fingers to his jaw.

You see him shudder, goosebumps flittering down his forearms as his big hand squeezes the back of your thigh.

"Fine then", John moves up the bed, and you crawl after him, effectively shrugging off your heels that thud to the floor as you do.

As he makes himself comfortable, you busy yourself with opening his belt and rucking down his pants and boxers in one. John's flushed and erect cock bobs upwards towards his stomach as he lifts his hips for you. Just as you rid him of his pants, you remember something.

When you scoot off the bed again, you haphazardly throw his pants over the same stool as his jacket, moving towards your purse. John props himself on one elbow, brows pulling together as he follows you.

"Thought you say you wouldn't tease, eh?" His voice is husky, verging on impatient as you look over your shoulder, watching as he wraps a hand around the base of himself, most likely not the touch he'd liked as a frustrated rather than pleasurable grunt leaves him.

"I'm not, just fulfilling my promise", you say, wiggling the lipstick you'd fished out before returning to him.

Moving up the bed, you settle on your knees between John's muscular legs. Opening the case, your gaze locks with his as you coat your lips in a more noticeable red. The sight makes his cock twitch in his hand, his head notching backwards slightly, resting on his shoulder, without ever letting those blues leave you.

You shoo away his hand when you're done and throw your lipstick aside, your fingers wrapping around him instead. A pleased hum vibrates from John's chest as he relaxes backwards, head settling against the pillows.

Although promising not to tease, you press a few firm kisses to the lowest parts of his stomach, along his adonis belt and the area just above the cock you're pumping lazily with twisting motions, colouring his skin with red lip-marks.

When satisfied with your work, you finally slot your lips around him, the sudden heat of your mouth making John's cock jerk, one of his hands instinctually shooting to the back of your head with a drawn-out groan filling the air.

Despite usually building up to a swift pace gradually, pulling out the process to build his pleasure, you don't hesitate to overwhelm John with how you drop an inch or two down his cock immediately, tightly sealing your lips around his shaft, doing everything to leave those marks you'd promised around his cock.

"Fuck". John's hips jerk upwards, not expecting the suddenness of your actions, though he manages to stop the full thrust by slamming his head backwards, hand tightening considerably at the back of your head.

A smugness fills your chest as you pull back slightly, suckling the tip leaking precum, tongue swiping back and forth over his frenulum while your hand creates slow, circular rotations at his base.

Through the lowest corner of your eyes, you notice the red rings around his cock, yet you steadily look upwards, following how John's head rises again, eyes half-lidded as your gazes lock. But those blues don't meet yours for long before they fall, the twitch of him inside your mouth and the near growl telling you he also spots the stains left behind by your lipstick.

"Those pretty lips makin' such lovely marks 'round my cock". The sound of his voice is so rough and delicious that your cunt clenches around nothing. "Such a good girl, ain'tcha, love?" You release him with a pop, but rather than answer, you collect your spit on your tongue, stretching it out as your hand moves upwards. Letting the glob of spit hit his cockhead, you coat his saft in the slickness with a pumping motion.

"Fuckin' hell", John rasps, sounding almost pained as his eyelids flutter close, head falling backwards. Your smile is brief before you slot your lips around him again, bobbing your head up and down half of his length, the rest squeezed and jerked by your hand.

"Suckin' me off s'good. Come on, deeper you go". He's not even looking at you as he speaks, his throaty words subdued into the air, almost as if he chokes on them halfway through. If anything, it makes you moan around him as you let the hand on the back of your head press you all the way down until he hits the back of your throat. "Jus' like that", he groans between clenched teeth.

As your tongue plays with the underside of his length and head bobs up and down, you feel him twitch violently inside your mouth, beefy thighs pressing against the side of yours, timbre-low sounds stemming from deep in his chest.

As John finally opens his eyes and looks down at you once more, always so transfixed with the way you desire to please him, he catches the faint glimmer of your jewellery behind the hand and mouth busy with his cock. The stones in the pendant glitter despite the room's dimness, the light from outside finding its way to make them gleam. What's remarkable is that your eyes harbour the shame glint.

Although heady with lust, your eyes are bright, excited, as your gaze meets his. The fact that you love this just as much as he does is enough to make him groan and tip his head backwards, wallowing in the pleasure creeping up his spine.

Only when a slurping noise fills the air as you suck purposefully and tongue plays the underside of his cockhead, does John's release hurtle dangerously close, and he pulls you off with a firm grip on your hair.

"I wasn't done".

"You're gonna be the death of me". That comment melts your stare into a smile.

"Don't die on me, handsome".

"C'mere". John's hand falls from your hair to grip your jaw, pulling you upwards. Your arms shoot to catch you, stabilising on either side of his body as he bends forward, crashing his lips against yours halfway.

It's dirty, your tongue slipping against John's as he pushes into your mouth, no doubt tasting himself on you. But it doesn't bother him, never has, not when it's on your lips that he tastes himself.

"You wet, love?" He groans against your lips before slanting his mouth against yours anew, your whined 'yes' going straight into his mouth. You unconsciously press your legs together, wiggling your hips, the motion along your forward-bent position exposing your drenched panties to the considerably cooler air. It urges another sound into the mesh of lips, a whine of discomfort this time.

"Bet you fuckin' are, love suckin' my cock".

A shudder runs down your whole back. "John-"

"Love bein' fucked even more, eh? Get on your back". The demand barely leaves his lips before you shift over his form, laying down just to the left of his previous position in the king-sized bed.

John moves between your legs, resting on his haunches as he pulls both your legs upwards, squeezing them together as he lets them rest against his chest. With a yank, he pulls your panties off your hips, the wetness on the crotch area dragging against the inside of your thighs as he tugs off the piece of fabric.

You don't know where they end up, wide eyes following John as he lets your legs down, pinning your thighs to the side, wasting no time before his hand slips over your cunt.

"Fuckin' soppin'", he drawls, confirming the answer you'd given him. "Can't wait to feel me stretch you out, can you?" His thumb runs down to your fluttering entrance, teasingly pushing against it. Before he goes any deeper, though, he collects some of your slick and trails his thumb to your clit.

He plays with your bundle of nerves just the way he knows you like. The pressure, speed, and everything he'd learnt about your body is now utilised to get you even more desperate, even wetter. And it works like a bloody charm too, your gasps soon turning to low moans and whines.

"C'mon, love, gotta be quiet", John shushes you, settling a hand over your throat, your necklace digging into his palm. He doesn't squeeze, simply rests it there to accentuate his point, and yet, he doesn't let up on playing with your clit, not even as your squirm, his thumb only chasing you through the movement. "Can't let everyone hear you, now can we?"

Even if you realise John deliberately must have kept his voice down as you blew him -because, of course, you're not at home- even if you try your damnedest, you can't contain your sounds of pleasure.

"Can't", you whine. John makes a deep sound, something between soothing and a snarl that makes your heart jump. Your eyes widen when his gaze darkens and he leans closer, all while his fingers apply more pressure on your clit, the pace quickening. As his face hovers over yours, your mouth falls open, letting out just one of those breathy moans he told you to hold.

"Can't, eh?" John releases your throat and leans back, but not enough to sit straight. Instead, he bends your legs forward and hooks his arm around your waist, manually flipping you over with a swift jerk. "That should do the trick".

It's a strength you know he possesses, but it makes you gasp in surprise anyway, the sound now muffled as your head is slotted in the crease between pillows.

Two big paws suddenly grab your asscheeks, groping the fat as you feel the man behind you lean over you just after widening your legs with his knees.

"Stunnin' fuckin' view from back here. This pretty arse-", John spanks your ass with one hand, making you keen, instinctually arching your back towards John. "- and your lovely cunt, just weepin' for me", the same hand that soothed the sting of his slap slide to your wetness.

You beg, a please moaned from your lips as he stretched you, barely any trouble going from one to two fingers with a few pumps. When he doesn't respond, you try again, louder, but only get a chuckle in return.

"Can't hear you, love". Amusement fills John's voice, making you frustratedly whine into the mattress before pushing a pillow to the side, raising your head only to crane it over your shoulder. Sitting behind you is an awfully smug-looking Brit.

"Please", you breathe the whisper, now mindful of your tone, which only widens his smile as he leans over your sprawled-out form.

The sudden prodding against your entrance comes without any warning, and you whip your head around to press into the mattress, muffling your moan so violently that John chuckles. But the sound swiftly deepens, evolving into a tight-lipped groan as he slowly pushes deeper.

Your back arches when his pelvis hits your backside, your motion prompting the slow grind of his hips against you. He doesn't even pull out, only rolls his hips shallowly against your rear.

All John can do is work his hips back and forth, listening to your faint moans slipping from the mattress your face rests against and the slick sounds of your pretty pussy being fucked.

When he leans his weight forward, hands gripping your hips, John shoves himself even further inside you, driving your face further into the bed. You practically sob, clit pulsing and throbbing and god—

"Fuck, you feel s'good 'round me". The lewd way he said it, a groan breaking the sentence into two with the unhurried sound of skin slapping occasionally, had you choking on an affirming moan. "Makin' such a mess. Pretty cunt's so wet, stretched".

John stuffs his fat cock into you with slow, even thrusts from behind, watching how you grip him tight when he pulls out and sucks him in once he pushes forwards.

It's slow until it's not.

When John loses patience, or the pleasure simply gets too much for him not to chase more, he changes the pace, making the curve of your ass jiggle against his hips with each shove of his cock into your cunt. You push your face into the bedding as far as not choking yourself goes, moaning throatily as you clench around him.

He fills you so deliciously like this. Each firm press of his hips against your ass crams his entire girthy length into you as his balls push against your clit. The rocking motion fills the air with wet slaps that make your head spin and fingers curl into the covers.

You moan unabashedly as he fucks you. Deep and fast enough that he needs to angle your hips, but when you just keep sliding back prone against the bed from the force of his shoves, John simply leans over you with a growl, fucking you down into the bed.

Whining, you thrash your head at the way he pounds into your sweet spot buried so deep. With your mouth falling open, it's no surprise if saliva soaks the fabric beneath your face.

Your orgasm doesn't even build slowly. It's a tumbling mess that, once it starts, just picks up momentum until you hurl face-forwards into it. It's so violent it catches John off-guard. The sudden way you shudder with a broken moan, the muscle of your back tensing, walls clamping down on him, everything without him even having to play with your clit, tells him you were just as worked up and exhausted as him, not able to do anything but let the pressure release.

"Fuck", he curses, thick and dark, feeling you get even slicker and tremble beneath his fingers.

Even through your drunken haze, you catch the drawn-out vowel of the word, which tells you John's close.

What surprises you, however, is that rather than rut irregularly into you until he buries himself deep and comes, his hand shoots to rest beside your head to catch his weight when he falls forward, slipping out of you in the process. Leaving your fluttering aftershocks to clench around nothing.

You feel as John jerks himself, his knuckles brushing over your skin rapidly. His breath cascades over the back of your head, head probably hanging low between his shoulders as he gazes down your body. Albeit not knowing what he has in mind -his fixation on spilling deep inside you as he pushes himself as close as possible to you no secret- you arch your spine, wiggling your ass upwards.

It prompts a deep, growling moan from him before his breath does a little hitch, then he groans, pleased and drawn out as you feel his release shoot over your ass and then straight over your pussy.

The bed quivers beside your head, all strength momentarily escaping John's burly frame that slackens against your back. Although he slumps to his forearm to keep most of his weight off, his other hand resting on the bed near the dip of your waist, he still presses you considerably deeper into the mattress.

John's heaving exhales disturb your hair, but your eyes remain closed, your whole body feeling light and satisfied as you relax, fingers uncurling from the covers.

When the man behind you finally moves, you don't have the energy to rise and look at what he does when he grabs your cheeks in his big hands, massaging the plush flesh with parting motions. But, you can only imagine he stares at the white ropes of cum coating your rear, gaze dropping to follow the way it dribbles down over your cunt.

Even if John doesn't do it for long, a pleased hum fills the air before he stops.

His hands are suddenly replaced with something that swipes over your asscheek and down between your legs. Despite twitching at the contact as it moves along your sensitive core, you release an appreciative sound as he wipes you clean of your releases. John replies by bending forward, kissing your shoulder-blade before shifting off you with a last squeeze to your hip.

Despite feeling the mattress dip beside you, his form slumping to the side with a low grunt, you already miss his warmth.

You breathe heavily, your exhale bordering on a whine warming the covers your face is burrowed in. When your sound gets nothing in return, your breath out softly again, hand searching for John. Just as your hand lands upon his chest, you catch a chuckle before fingers wrap around your wrist. You're tugged sideways, pulled partly onto the chest you'd fumbled your way to feeling.

Although now looking down at John, you don't see much of him, your hair is mussed enough that most of your vision is covered. A giggle escapes you while a huff of amusement passes through John's nose as he brushes your face clear of its momentary shield.

"There she is", John hums when your gazes lock with nothing in between. There's a tug in the corner of his lip, eyes lidded as he watches you.

The tilt of his head and craning of his neck is slow. The kiss he initiates is equally deliberate and sweet. Although the exchange is brief, as he parts, John lingers close to your face with his forehead resting against yours, hand brushing over your cheek feathery light.

He murmurs something low enough you can't catch but hum in return nonetheless. A few seconds later, he rises from the bed. As he does, you move to your back, wiggling beneath the sheets to not experience the cold, knowing the sheet must be warmed thanks to your bodies. A content sigh leaves you when you realise you've been right.

As your gaze settles upon John's bare form, rifling around his bag for whatever he's searching for, you can't help how your eyes trail over him. That's how your eyes locate the faint red marks littering his body, some more smudged than others.

Your giggle catches John's attention as he shifts towards you, a pair of boxer briefs now in his hands. But rather than meet his gaze, your eyes flitter over his form, numerous outlines of red lips littered along his lower stomach and groin. Your laughter intensifies, and John follows your line of attention, only to tilt his head upwards again with a smile when he finds what caught your attention.

"You look real pretty with my lipstick all over you", you comment once your laugh fades, head tilting against the pillow behind your head, eyes locking with John's.

"Quiet the artist", he chuckles as he pulls on his underwear.

"It isn't waterproof, so you'll be able to wash it off with water".

"Think about makin' one of 'em into a tattoo". John points to one of the still near-perfect copies of your lips just inside his hipbone and above his waistband. "Make 'em permanent". His wink makes your mouth fall open.

"Please don't!" Your revolt makes him chuckle.

"What do I get if I don't?"

"Me only asking for a pair of pants and not a shirt along with them. And cuddles?" You stretch out your arms towards John with your offer. He huffs a laugh, moving to your bag to dig through it for your underwear.

"Never sayin' no to half-naked cuddles with you, love", you shake your head fondly just before the clothing article you requested is thrown your way.

As John rounds the bed, you lean forward to snatch your panties from the covers. You barely have enough time to slip them on before John, with practised ease, settles into the bed on his side and pulls you close, naked chests pressed against each other.

You sigh in contentment as John's warmth seeps into your body, arms winding around his neck to get closer and being able to graze your nails through the hair on the back of his head, which makes him pull you even closer in return.

The moment drags on as you card fingers through his hair. Every now and then, you feel the gel he'd cursed over as he styled it before the event, still intact at certain places despite the overall moussed state of his locks.

Somewhere along the way, a hefty, pleased sigh leaves the man holding you as his head burrows into your neck, nuzzling against the necklace still around your throat. Your eyes flutter close upon the rhythmic breaths puffing against your skin, melting more into John's burly body.

"You're awfully cuddly tonight", you hum but make no move to disturb the peaceful air by moving.

"Could say the same about you".

You chuckle at the response breathed against your skin. "Can never get too much of you". A set of warm lips press a kiss to your throat, making you hum contentedly before continuing to speak. "Especially not after tonight when everyone's been fighting for your attention".

There's a few seconds of silence and then a sigh.

"More people goin' to fight for it soon". Your brows pull together at the sudden shift of air when John emerges from your neck, blue eyes locking with yours. "Before introducin' you to Laswell, I got informed we're set out on a mission."

You sighed, nodding at his explanation. It was only about time. "When?

"A week, but it won't be a long one". You perk up at that, John noticing, a small smile tugging in the corner of his lips. "Estimated to be back home before Christmas".

"Yeah?" He hummed an affirmative. Your smile twitched just slightly wider, unable not to press a kiss to his lips. You felt his chuckle just before you parted from him.

"Someone's happy about that". John's brows arched, head tilting to the side.

"Just... didn't have much planned for Christmas this year, so I thought about maybe asking-", you got interrupted by his lips pressing against yours this time. The passion with which John kissed you made your chest flutter.

"Wanted you with me this weekend just in case you had somethin' in the calendar or I wasn't home", he breathed against your lip when putting some distance between the two of you again.

You bite your lower lip, brows raising. "John, are you saying you wanted to ask me about spending Christmas together too?"

"Didn't know if it was an awfully traditional period for you", he said, giving you a half-hearted shrug.

"How sweet of you". You cooed, pecking John's lips, earning yourself a content huff from the man cocooning you with his arms and body. "But I would've wanted to spend some time with you no matter what". As you said this, that handsome smile of John's unfolds as he pulls you on top of him. He released a deep chuckle at your slight squeal, only for both of your sounds to fade as he stared up at you and you down at him.

God, you couldn't wait until Christmas.

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dramas-vs-novels · 4 days ago

Text

Love in the Air Special Novel Excerpt: Prapai vs Drunk Sky

** Context: After Payu stumbled home drunk one night and Rain got to see his boyfriend being cute and whiny, he became obsessed with seeing what those around him looked like drunk. So Rain conspired with their other friends in their major to get Sky to drink. However, Sky proved to just be a sleepy drunk, so Rain called Prapai to come pick him up.

After Rain made the call, it wasn’t long before Prapai walked into the pub behind the university.

But when the playful person saw his beloved boyfriend hunched over beside Rain, his sharp eyes that always sparkled in a good mood became noticeably darker.

A large hand slipped to tighten around Sky’s shoulder, as he asked in a deep voice, “Why did he drink so much?”

Fip!

Of course, the whole table was pointing at Rain all at once.

"Hey, are you guys selling me out like this?"

"Well, you said if we can get Sky drunk, tomorrow you'll buy us pork ribs."

When meeting the dark eyes of a dark skinned and handsome man, everyone sold their younger nong out in unison as Rain glared at them, then hurriedly returned with a flattering smile to his friend’s boyfriend.

"Just drinking alcohol, P’Pai, you don't mind, don't you?" Rain tried to make a pleading face.

Prapai looked at him for a moment before his dark expression returned to his usual good-natured smile.

"I didn't say anything. Anyway Rain, you were the one who called me."

So, if I didn't call, would I be killed?

Rain just spoke to himself but didn't dare to ask aloud. He looked at P’Pai who lightly shook the drunk man's arm.

"Are you okay, Sky?"

The shaking caused the drunk man to slowly open his eyes, his face was flushed red, and Sky shook his head vigorously.

"No more, I want to go home." Sky mumbled then fell asleep.

"Alright, let's go home now."

"Um."

The big man was so indulgent, he moved his hand from Sky’s shoulder to caress his hair lovingly, sharp eyes twinkling as he looked down.

Of course, it was an image that the entire table looked curiously at.

The image of a white friend slumped on the table next to them with a handsome, mature man stroking his hair on his shoulders was indeed attractive.

He is attractive in the same way as P’Phayu. They see him often, but Sky rarely brings his boyfriend to college. Most of the time Prapai parked the car and waited and then Sky would just walk to the car. He didn’t come to mingle with the classmates. Seeing Sky with his boyfriend, the prying eyes came straight from every direction, and believe me

tomorrow in the club, there will be teasing messages from seniors and guys in their class year.

He has a boyfriend who loves him so much.

"Rain."

"Yes, P’Pai!" The person hastily answered.

Prapai took his hand away from his lover, pulled his wallet out of his trousers, then took out all the thousands of baht in banknotes that he had in it and handed it over to his boyfriend's friend. As Rain took the almost ten thousand (~$300) in cash and held it in a daze, his sharp eyes flashed, and he couldn't understand why P’Pai would give him the money.

"Today I am footing the bill. If it's not enough, call me, and I'll transfer the money to you."

"Really?"

"Why would I be joking? I am paying."

The whole table cheered in unison.

"Oh my, Sky's boyfriend is so fucking caring."

"We are going to another pub, that guy just paid."

"Damn, I'm jealous of Sky, I want someone like this."

"May Phi prosper, paying for us like this guarantees that in your next life you will be more handsome."

Amid the cheers of the free drinkers, Prapai just smiled, his face bright and clear, the kind of good-tempered adult that children wanted to approach even if he was a stranger.

"In exchange for that, no one can tease Sky about me picking him up."

He knew well that his boyfriend didn't like chaos, and didn't like to be the center of attention, so he gave the condition and his sharp eyes turned to make eye contact with Sig.

Giving him a smile that was as threatening as a zip-your-mouth gesture. It was a nice way to threaten his boyfriend’s classmates.

"Good, everyone agrees. I'll take Sky home now."

"Alright Phi, we'll keep our mouths shut."

"That also includes no texting."

"Oh, P’Pai, you're really good at cornering us. Okay, trust us." Sig laughed loudly, looking at his friend's boyfriend, whom he had met so many times that he now knew Prapai’s personality.

After all the game bosses had been dealt with, Prapai turned to the sleeping man, looking like he wanted to carry him away. But rather than create a scene for his little boy, his big hand pulled Sky's arm around his neck. With some force, Sky staggered to his feet and leaned against him.

"Let's go home."

"Um, I'm sleepy."

"You can sleep at home."

"Ugh, no, I'm going back to my dorm, so sleepy." Sky looked dumb, raising his free hand to rub his eyes to say that he's really sleepy.

"Yessir, let's go back to the dormitory." Prapai said politely, waving goodbye to the children around the table and leading his lover to walk out of the shop.

TN: After the assault on Sky in episode 13, Prapai sells his condo and buys a new and much larger one in a high-security building (Rain and Sky are hanging out at the condo's pool in the LITA special episode). This becomes his and Sky's home throughout the Special Novel (which covers around 10 years). However, when he is a student, Sky still keeps his dorm, since it's close to campus.

"When he's with his boyfriend, Sky is cute too." Behind his back, the female senior says jokingly.

Smack!

"Oh, why did you hit me?"

Sig himself smacked the senior's hands loudly and made a gesture of zipping his mouth in an annoyed manner. "Sis, don't you want free alcohol? Or are you deaf? Huh, what did P’Pai say just now? Bitch, have you forgotten? Do you have a short memory?"

"Damn it, Sig!!!"

That's all it took, and the story of a handsome boyfriend coming to pick up Sky instead turned into a war of saliva and cursing across the tables of seniors and juniors.

--------

"Sky, Sky... wake up, we're at the dorm."

Although the distance from the pub to the young boyfriend's dormitory was not that far, Sky did as he said and slept in the car. He leaned his head against the window and fell asleep immediately, not waking up even when Prapai repeated his call and shook his arm.

The sight looked so cute that Prapai smiled, and his big hand unbuckled Sky’s seatbelt and leaned over his boyfriend's seat. His face was sharp, sweeping away from the soft, fluffy hair that was unshaped, the skin of the cheeks smooth and clear like that of a baby's skin, and the long eyelashes laid on those cheeks.

No matter where he looks, Prapai finds Sky adorable.

Why, why do you always think that you look ordinary, even though you are so cute?

"Here, if you were awake, you would call me a psychopath who kept staring at you, Sky."

Mwaah!

He really couldn't help giving a big kiss to the soft cheeks before letting go of the soft skinned person.

Now, no one was around to see them, Sky wouldn't mind if he carried him up to the tower in his arms. Prapai shrugged and proceeded to carry the drunk man up to his room.

When Sky was propping himself up and sitting on the bed, Prapai had just changed from a slacks shirt to comfortable pajamas that he had left in his boyfriend's room. Sky’s white face looked sleepy, his eyes glistening from the effects of alcohol, but he didn't look as drunk as he did in the pub.

"Oh, why did you wake up? Get ready for bed, I’ll help change your clothes.”

"I'm not drunk, Phi Pai."

"Hmm." Prapai hummed in surprise, moved to stand beside the bed, and looked at the state of the drunk boy who said he was not drunk.

"Just now, I acted as if I was drunk so that Rain and the others wouldn't give me more alcohol." Sky replied with a slight slur, but Prapai could still understand him.

"I didn’t fall asleep in the pub, but I probably fell asleep in the car. P’Pai, did you carry me up upstairs?" the person said, looking up. The person who was listening couldn't help feeling that this angle was nice. Whether it's a flushed face or a view down the wide collar of the shirt, revealing beautiful and erect nipples.

"So, you mean that you pretended to be drunk."

"Well, back in high school, I drank even more than this."

"Whose boyfriend is this? So evil too, I fell for your acting completely."

"If I didn't make him believe it was real, Rain would do it again." the person who was speaking said, knowing his good friend well.

Prapai has to admit that he likes this angle… but even if Sky isn't as drunk as he pretended to be in the bar, it's still better to let the little boy rest.

"Sleepy, right? If you're sleepy, just go to sleep."

"P’Pai."

"Yes sir?" A deep voice accepts the words, preparing to leave to find some clothes to change into.

Swipe!

"Just now, P’Pai, what were you looking at?"

"Ugh!"

Suddenly, Sky used his hand to grab the big man's wrist and pull the big man back. And how could Prapai not gulp hard when his boyfriend deliberately fluttered his shirt around? From the first moment he stole a glance of Sky’s nipples, Sky saw him.

"Come on." The young man groaned in a low voice, wanting to cover his face with his hands and resist the temptation.

But Sky smiled. "P’Pai, you looked right? Do you want to touch them?"

He didn’t just say the words, Sky also grabbed his boyfriend's hand and moved it to hold his collarbone as he raised his head to make way for Prapai's big hand to reach into the wide collar. The power of alcohol made him force Prapai’s hand through the collar and touch his hot body.

Fip!

"Ugh." As soon as the fingertips passed the nipple, Sky let out a low moan.

That's all, Prapai now knows what it looks like when his little boyfriend drinks alcohol… he becomes a provocative cat that would almost drive him insane.

When Prapai clearly teased him in a way that he normally wouldn’t, Sky held his breath. "Please rub, P’Pai." Sky whispered.

Prapai rubbed his hard knuckles in a circle around the base and listened to the sweet moan of his lover, then gently pinched with his fingertips. The person sitting on the bed writhed slightly. Sky’s body seemed more sensitive to touch than usual, and Prapai couldn't help but pinch and pull.

"Oh, good, good." The drunk person looks up and meets Prapai’s eyes, "Harder."

And damn it, his little one was licking his lips as their eyes met, the look in his eyes said that Sky wanted more.

Swipe!

"Phi Pai, your cock is hard."

Sky is drunk, very drunk!

At first, Pai believed it when his boyfriend said he was pretending to be drunk. But as soon as a soft touch pressed against his pants, touched the hardened part through the fabric, and Sky laughed heartily, he understood that Sky had drunk more than he thought.

He should put Sky to bed and lull him to sleep.

"P’Pai."

"Yes?"

"...Wanna do some licking?"

Tum!

The evil side stomps the side of the dharma side, the evil side punches the good side in the face, and the righteous consciousness is scattered.

"Of course."

Prapai pulled his hand from the soft skin and made a move to unbutton his pants.

Pia!

"No, I want to do it." The drunk man smacked his hands hard and commanded in a stern voice before tucking his face into the crotch of his big boyfriend’s pants and rubs his hands along the part slowly.

Then, Sky pulled out his boyfriend’s son from inside his trousers. His eyes fixed on the red veined cock that had pierced his body countless times. The thin hand grasped the length, it was hot like a fire.

Mwaah!

Soft lips touch the tip before Sky swept his lips sideways from tip to root. Then the bright-colored tongue licked it, hungrily savoring the familiar taste. At the same time, the white hand stroked while the mouth was licking at the juicy tip.

"Mwaah...Mwaah...Phi Pai...Hmm."

The sight of his lover sucking on his cock just made Prapai even harder. However, Prapai only stood still with his big hand touching my head, stroking gently. Despite his heavy breathing, a low moan escaped from his throat.

But then, the white man broke away. "Hot."

Sky moaned a single word, then straightened up to take off his shirt and throw it by the bed, followed by pants and underwear. Everything was pulled all out at once, then dropped to the side and Sky was left naked. Sky returned to sit in a kneeling position facing the big cock.

The sight... is very provocative.

The white hand came back and he eagerly shoved Prapai’s cock into his mouth.

Sky's soft tongue licked around with a satisfying taste, then opened his mouth to receive most of the length. With both hands, Sky took Prapai's hand and made him grip his head, telling his lover that he could move his head back and forth as he wanted.

However, Prapai still didn’t slam his cock into Sky’s warm mouth, he almost couldn't resist. The young man just slowly brushed Sky’s messy hair and was in no hurry to release into his hot mouth cavity, which seemed to be hotter than usual.

Crack!

Sky didn't care about the sound of the bedside drawer opening, he only cared about the veined cock moving in and out of his mouth, wishing P’Pai could do more but…

"Ugh!!!"

At that moment the clear gel ran down his buttocks until the drunk Sky groaned deep in his throat, sending a tremor that caused Prapai to moan low.

Not only did the lubricating gel run through the butt crack, but Prapai's big hand moved from Sky’s forearm to the other softly, squeezing both sides so hard that there would be faint red marks. The boy who was giving it to him groaned in his throat, his soft buttocks accidentally twitching toward him.

Fup!

Prapai himself did not let go, for a long finger was inserted deep into the sweet colored channel that only he could feel. Prapai felt the force of his thrust make Sky twitch with joy until Prapai sent his finger in all the way.

And damn it, the finger wriggled inside, Sky was insanely hot!

"Arrgh."

Then, like a kitten turned cat would want to provoke him to the extreme, Sky swayed as if wanting more fingering until Prapai pulled his finger out and slammed it in again. Prapai felt the trembling of the boy who was still sucking on his cock for him.

The picture now is Sky crawling on the edge of the bed kneeling and watching Prapai stand beside the bed with a large hand skillfully inserting deep into the white body, making the person on the bed moan loudly; that's why it sent a trembling force into Prapai’s cock, still in Sky’s mouth until neither of the parties thought to endure anymore, their eyes glistening.

"Ah, ah, Sky? Can I enter you?" Prapai spoke in a heavy voice, his sharp eyes staring at the white hips that also thrust against his fingers.

"Mmm." A request that Sky himself sucked hard on caused a low moan from the big man.

Sky, whose face was so sweaty that his damp hair clung to it, lifted his head and gave him a sweet smile, "Yes, Pai."

Fip!

The drunk man moved to lie on his back, immediately spread out in the middle of the bed. Two legs spread wide, revealing a naked body flushed with red all over, and a cramped and wet channel, twitching as if demanding something big to fill it.

And it's like Sky thought he wasn’t provoking Prapai enough, because his white hands had already moved to grab his soft ass and pull the white cheeks further apart.

"Phi Pai, hurry."

Ping!

Prapai heard the sound of something torn apart, and that was probably his own consciousness.

He immediately rushed toward Sky, and a large hand pulled the two provocative hands above his head. Then he pinned them with one hand until they sank into the thick blanket, sending his other hand to the hole below and... inserting three fingers at once.

"Ah, ah, Phi Pai, ah!"

Prapai looked at Sky with his sweaty face shaking, wriggling beneath him, as he fumbled for something with his fingers; And it didn't take long for Sky to startle as if he had been electrocuted.

"Right there...argh."

The big one managed to pull his fingers out, and sent his big son in his place, at the moment Sky looked down.

"Ugh!" Prapai bent down and pressed a provocative kiss on the lips until they were close, almost at the same moment that he plunged into the hot tenderness... So hot that he almost came immediately.

As the person below cried out in full volume, a trembling sensation was felt along with a slight stabbing pain inside. But when Prapai first entered him, he stilled because he knew that something long would follow, and it didn’t take Prapai long to push all the way in.

Sky’s two legs split open even more.

Sky didn't know if he should be interested in the insanely hot kiss, or the stick moving in and out of his body.

It's good, it's so good that he doesn't want to stop at all.

"Phi Pai, uh... fuck me like that again, do it again... [huff] [huff] good, it’s so good."

As soon as his lips were freed from the kissing, Sky let out a loud moan, his small hip pushing up against the slamming force. His newly freed hands grasped the sheets beside his head, and clear tears welled up in his eyes, looking like they could fall at any moment.

"Do you like it?"

"Love it, but I like... P’Pai, more."

The piercing moment made Sky sway and his back channel tightened more and more, his body twitching as if waves of happiness would come crashing in at any moment.

Suddenly!

Prapai slowed down the pace, wishing to prolong this moment a little longer.

He would always give Sky anything he wanted, today the drunk one took charge. "Hey, wait Sky." Did the alcohol made the child braver than usual? Because Sky pushed the giant Prapai onto the bed, and then, the drunk man straddled him. His soft hand felt the heat of Prapai’s cock, but he wouldn't let Prapai cum.

He felt that Phi Pai should only cum inside him.

With these thoughts, Sky pushed his legs wide apart, his tantalizing face tilted up and his hips pressed down to take the hot stick into his body… to the deepest part.

"Arrgh."

Sky bit his lip vigorously, as he pulled his body up and pressed it all the way down again, again and again until the heat gathered in his lower abdomen, his heart pounding, his ears soft. His legs began to shake.

Prapai’s cock was twitching in a pulsating beat that drove them both crazy to death.

"Mmmhpf, I can't endure anymore."

"And who...ask Phi to endure...it." Sky’s panting voice answered in a rhythm that was broken.

And that…

Swipe!

"Assume that I have already warned you."

Phew!

"Ah! [huff] Phi Pai, Phi Pai, harder and harder."

Prapai moved forward vigorously and looked at the beautiful view of his ruddy lover, his two hands reaching behind him to grab Prapai’s knees to support himself. Sky's two legs spread wide enough for him to see the connection point where his cock was moving in and out with force. Sky’s own beautiful piece of flesh bounced in front of him until Prapai couldn’t resist reaching out to stroke it.

"I am going to cum ...it’s coming out."

Even if Sky didn’t tell him, Prapai himself was going crazy from the twitching inside, and he knew that his lover would cum in one minute or another by the way he spead up.

Prapai's sharp eyes looked at the sweet love hole that devoured him with even hungrier eyes, a bright tongue licking around his lips.

Pfuuush!

Not long after, Sky’s body began to spasm and released every drop of cum he had, smearing Prapai’s his strong stomach.

As the pressure from Sky reaching the dreamland itself gripped Prapai like crazy, after just one blow, hot cum sprayed into the provocateur's body. Sky trembled, and moaned softly, eyes tightly closed, as he felt the fluid that filled his inner depths.

But don't think that everything will end there.

Prapai once again pushed the exhausted drunk onto the soft mattress, holding his white legs wide apart.

"Mmmhpf! Phi Pai, wait, ah, fuck!" Sky cried out at the top of his voice.

He felt a flash of tenderness rushing in. At the same moment, a hot tongue was licking his abused love hole, drawing out the cum that was flowing backward from his twisted waist. Clear tears streamed down the corners of his eyes, both hands gripping Prapai's thick hair tightly.

Who would have thought that P’Pai would put his tongue in that same place his own cum flowed out of?

"Ugh, huh, good."

"Lewd."

Prapai raised his head mockingly, and that made Sky turn red. "Who exactly is lewd?"

The young man gave him a smile, a low voice whispering in a raspy voice. "So, we're both lewd to each other."

After he finished saying that, the sharp face tucked into its original position right into that still twitching hole, Prapai knew very well that the shy Sky liked when he licked his love hole right after fucking it rudely. So, having provoked him, Sky had to accept his fate tonight.

"Phi Pai, ah, it tingles."

In the silence of the night, in the dormitory of a young man named Sky. The groans echoed with the moving sound of the soft mattress, time after time, and it didn't seem to end so easily.

#prapai #sky #prapaisky #love in the air #love sky #lita special novel #excerpt

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