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charliemwrites · 6 months ago

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Hiiiii! So I’m not super thrilled with this but I’ve been having a time of it at work so I worked on this when I could 🙃

Not sure if there will be a second part yet tbh we’ll see!

Edit: almost forgot to add that the gorgeous divider below is by @gildui they have some absolutely beautiful cod themed dividers.

Carrion

Reader comes back Wrong

Content: implied/referenced torture, injury, suicide reference/implicated “pact” (by background character), lack of wound care

The breakup was bad.

Not in the top 3 of Simon’s worst nightmare-inducing memories - but likely top 5. He certainly wakes up chest aching and eyes burning often enough for it to be a solid contender. He’s haunted by tears that dripped like acid and the cracks in your voice deafening him.

On bad days, he thinks he can still see you shuffling down the halls, eyes sunken and red-rimmed, dark circles and chapped lips. Anger giving way to resignation giving way to pain and sadness. The rest of the team tight-lipped and wincing, no sides taken, shoulders and ears offered equally in commiseration.

Your misery wanted no company, though.

You didn’t tell Simon that you were leaving. Gaz let slip over a subdued but obligatory game of cards, you’d be gone for a long time - loaned out to Laswell.

Simon didn’t go to see you off. Didn’t ask why you were leaving or accuse you of being too immature to be on a team with him. He didn’t wish you good luck, stay safe with the rest of the team on the tarmac at 0-dark when you took off.

He should have.

Price says you’ll be gone for six months. Just six. It’s better this way, he reminds them when Johnny balks. His eyes are on Simon, though, when he adds that you need to get your head on straight, and you weren’t able to do it with them.

So. Six months.

Simon stops expecting you on his left. Stops smelling your shampoo lingering on bits of clothes he pretended not to notice you steal. He still dreams about you begging him not to push you away.

183 days come and go.

On day 184, Laswell sends word - your temporary team likes you quite a bit. They want you to stay on for one more month… one more mission… one more…

Six months turns to ten.

312 days since you left; since you were home.

The team hasn’t stopped leaving a space for you at their tables, right between Gaz and Price. You miss your own birthday. Laswell says she’ll pass along well wishes.

The situation changes. A target resurfaces. All hands on deck, including yours.

374 days. Twelve months and some change.

They don’t spend the holidays with you, but there’s a stack of presents waiting in Price’s office. Your mugs have collected dust in the back of the rec room cabinet.

Laswell says you’re still deployed on one last mission, return TBD. Soon, though.

487 days. Still TBD. Soon. Really. Just some loose ends to tie up.

561 days. There was some trouble during exfil but you’re alright. Just a bit of recovery.

You’re coming home.

590 days. You’ll land at 0700 tomorrow.

It’s been 591 days since Simon last saw you. Since any of them last saw you.

Laswell has come to deliver you personally, a kind of apology for keeping you away so long. She’s the first off the transport and you’re right behind her.

Your hair is shorter. Much, much shorter. There’s a new patch on your jacket - memento from your temporary team, Simon figures.

Apart from that, you look… almost exactly how you did when you left. Dark circles under your eyes, mouth drawn and tight. There’s invisible weight compressing your shoulders, urging them in and down. But you’re there again. Just the way he remembers.

(Why are you the way he remembers?)

“Long time, no see,” Gaz calls, reaching for you.

There’s half a beat, you blink. Hesitate.

Then you grin and reach back.

“Missed my pretty face, did you?” you reply.

Johnny laughs and brings you in for a hug. You twitch hug him back, patting his shoulder as you pull away.

“Good to have you back, Sergeant,” Price says, shaking your hand.

You turn to Simon, nod in greeting, expression pleasant. “Ghost.”

So that’s how it’ll be? Alright.

“Sergeant.”

That night, you go out for drinks with the team and Laswell. Simon goes along to show there are no hard feelings.

(Not that you seem to need reassurance. It’s not even that you’re not looking at him. You are. Whenever he speaks, the rare times he does, or if he shifts in his seat. Your gaze doesn’t linger or jerk away, you treat him like you do Johnny and Gaz and Price.)

When Johnny mixes up your usual for Price’s, you don’t even seem to notice. But Simon does.

“When did you start drinking whiskey?” he wonders.

You used to swear you’d never like it, claiming it tasted like boot polish and the “Boys Club” wasn’t worth the indigestion it gave you.

“Someone from my other team,” you say by way of explanation.

You don’t ask for another whiskey. Laswell gets the rest of your drinks for that night.

Simon turns into the rec room two days later and finds you already there. There’s only the light above the sink on, and you’re staring at the steady drip, drip, drip from the faucet. A cup of black coffee cools in your hand. You’re already wearing gloves.

“Sugar’s in the left now,” he calls.

Your head twitches, something pops in your neck.

“Oh, thanks,” you chirp, turning for the cabinet. “Sleep okay, LT?”

“‘Bout as well as I ever do,” he replies gruffly, sidling up next to you for the kettle.

You hum. There’s a yellow packet in your hand. (Didn’t you used to like the blue one?)

“I get that,” you sympathize.

He snorts. Since when?

“Do you?”

When he glances down, you’re not looking at him. Instead, you’re trying (and failing) to get the sink to stop dripping.

“You know that’s been broken for ages,” he says.

At least as long as the 141 has been around. You tried to fix it once when you first joined up, too, with no luck.

“Right,” you say. A little too quickly, a little too agreeably. “Well, anyway, enjoy your tea, Lieutenant.”

You leave the packet of sugar behind. Unopened.

You’re back and it’s like it used to be - not just before you left, but before the breakup. Before there was ever anything to break up.

Your time away seems to have given you whatever space from Simon you were hoping for, because you act like there was never anything at all.

He’s half expecting, dreading, that you’ll pull him aside at some point. Ask for a word after dinner, or swing by his room before bed. Talk about the break up now that cooler heads prevail and 19 months have sanded down the rough feelings. Seek closure, maybe.

But you don’t. The weeks pass until a month has gone and you never exchange more than easy pleasantries with Simon. You give him space, give him privacy. Things you never used to give him much of before, for better or worse.

You fool around with Gaz and Johnny, trade quips with Price, and follow Simon’s orders. Train recruits. Write reports.

You’re back, better than ever.

So why does it feel like Simon’s still waiting for you to return?

You’re always dressed now, head to toe. Day or night, rain or shine. From the neck down you’re in full sleeves, long pants, boots and gloves.

It doesn’t occur to anyone until you’re sweating through your compression shirt in the gym. Wipe your shiny forehead for the dozenth time before Johnny says, “why not just take it off?”

“It’s not that bad,” you laugh, waving him off.

When you lie down to bench press, Simon notes the bottom of your shirt tucked tight into your waistband. He exchanges a glance with Johnny - he’s seen it too.

You used to dress in shorts and sports bras during exercise, a towel over your shoulder. In the common room, you’d mill in tank-tops and boxers. Even used to trot down the hall swaddled in a towel or robe, mumbling that you forgot a razor or some other toiletry before showering.

“What, did ye get an embarrassing tattoo or somethin’?” Johnny asks finally.

You blink at him, expression bemused. “A tattoo? Why do you think I have a tattoo?”

“Yer covered up like a nun on Sunday. It cannae be comfortable.”

You snort. “Just because you’re allergic to clothes, MacTavish…”

“Allergic?! Wha’s tha’ s’posed t’mean?!”

Gaz barks a laugh. You grin and continue your workout.

Simon tries not to be disturbed by the name “MacTavish” coming off your tongue for the first time since you met.

It’s your first mission since you’ve been back. You have new gear, a new handgun. Something’s been carved into the side of the barrel in Cyrillic, Simon can’t read it. A new callsign.

(“What kind of a name is Carry-on?” Johnny teases, but he doesn’t quite hide the unease in his eyes.

You snort and lace your boots tighter. The edge of you sleeve inches up, revealing the curve of a glossy scar that wasn’t there before.

“You’re one to talk Mister Maybelline.”)

Someone painted an upside down cross on the temple of your helmet with their finger. You thumb it before stuffing it over your head.

“You ready for this?” Gaz asks, knocking his knee into yours. The two of you have been paired together for this mission. (Was it Simon’s imagination, or did you look annoyed that you would have a partner?)

“Always,” you reply.

Simon doesn’t hear what happens, but Gaz looks shellshocked when you haul him into the helicopter during exfil. You shake him a bit once everything is secure and the bird’s in the air.

“Garrick,” you shout, “c’mon, where did he get you?”

It takes him a second but he blinks, offers his arm for your inspection. You move with a speed even Simon is impressed by, tearing into the nearby med kit almost viciously. Gaz is patched up in record time and you sit back with blood on your hands, barely even seem to notice as you wipe them carelessly on your pants.

(You used to be more squeamish, weren’t you? You used to be the last one they asked for medical care because seeing your teammates in pain made you nauseous.)

“What about you?” Gaz asks after a small eternity.

You yawn. “What about me?”

“You got nicked too, didn’t you?”

Simon takes a second look at you and now that Gaz mentions it, you’re soaked in blood. Wet patches on your vest, your pants, dripping down your boots. It takes him a moment to notice the tear in your thigh, shredded flesh visible when you rock with the wind turbulence.

“Did I?” you wonder, glancing down like you only just noticed it.

Johnny curses, reaches for you - but you wave him off.

“It’s just a scratch,” you reply. “Barely even feel it, no worries.”

Then why is it still bleeding?

When the team lands, you hop off the heli without so much as a wince. Droplets of blood lead all the way back to your room.

(When Simon asks Nikolai about the hand-etching on your gun, he says the word means “promise.”)

In the after-action report, your callsign isn’t “Carry-On.” It’s Carrion.

Laswell takes you off the mission two months later, a joint assignment with KorTac. They send three operators to work with TF141 - Stiletto, Konig, and Nikto.

On the transport to infil, Simon notices the Russian inspecting his handgun in a seat separated from the rest of the squad. He recognizes the Cyrillic carved into the barrel this time: Promise.

It’s an eerie, creeping suspicion. An anxious fog rolling in.

It’s not one single thing that trips an alarm in Simon’s head, but a steady collation of oddities over months. A single arhythmic beat, a note off key. Just once or twice, but over and over until he can’t notice anything else.

You act just like yourself except for all the minute ways you don’t.

You smile big and wide, sunshine bright, when they make a good joke. Your laugh is still the same, bubbling up in your throat, head thrown back. You smell the same when you pass Simon in the hall, shampoo and soap that’s haunted him for a year and a half.

It’s insidiously subtle; he can’t pinpoint what it is for the longest time. Your mannerisms are almost too practiced, the cadence of your voice too measured. A missing turn of phrase you often used, replaced by something unfamiliar.

Simon dismisses it as guilt-laden paranoia. The two of you ended on bad terms with a year and half worth of space between. He’s hardly one to gauge what’s normal for you anymore.

And besides, the few times someone else has noticed at those tiny yet all-too-obvious inconsistencies, you shrug it off as something you picked up while away.

But he catches Johnny’s brows furrow one afternoon as you light up a cig (after swearing for years that you’d never pick up the habit) and Simon knows he’s beginning to see it too.

“You ever notice,” Gaz begins slowly. You’re the only one missing from the rec room this evening, retired with a drawn-out yawn. “That Carrion always mentions being away, but never talks about it?”

Simon stills. Johnny’s eyes fly to Price, who’s grimly tapping at his crossword puzzle.

“The file’s redacted,” he says. He’s seen it too then, tried to investigate for himself.

“That’s normal for a mission like that,” Simon reasons carefully.

“I don’t mean the mission,” Price says. “I mean Carrion’s file.”

“This is a good movie,” you mumble from the armchair you’ve stolen from Price. “What’s it called?”

Simon exchanges glances with the rest of the team. No one points out that this is (used to be?) your favorite.

Price looks into the team you were loaned out to. All were KIA or remain MIA. All but one. His file has been scrubbed too, the only documents readable are discharge orders and a PMC contract, both associated with the callsign “Nikto.”

They’re running out of time.

Less than 36 hours on the clock with only one lead, and it’s a zealot with a suicide pact. Price and Laswell both took a crack at him with nothing to show for it. Even Ghost has gotten hardly anything and he’s running out of nails. With time, he might get something useful, but they don’t have much of that left.

In the anteroom looking into interrogation, you’ve been observing through the one-way glass with your hands in your pockets, head tilted, expression serene.

Price and Laswell are discussing strategy, contingencies. Gaz and Johnny are throwing in their two cents, but Simon… Simon is watching you.

Like medical, torture used to be your Achilles. You were trained like the rest of the team, but there was never any need for you to step into the room yourself. Hell, you were a last resort even for observation or emergency resuscitation. No one blamed you for having a weak stomach for information extraction.

But today, you glance over your shoulder and make eye contact with Laswell.

“I’ll handle it,” you say with an air of finality.

The room goes silent. Price opens his mouth, but it’s Laswell that speaks, voice hard with resignation.

“Do it.”

You don’t blink. “Yes, ma’am.”

You walk out the door without a backwards glance, shoulders loose but each step steady and purposeful.

“What the hell is going on, Kate?” Price demands.

Kate sighs, looks away as you enter the interrogation room.

“Let’s do this outside. It won’t take long to get that intel.”

The only thing she’s able to share is that you and your team were captured. For a long time. And then you’re already stepping out of the interrogation room, wiping your bloodied hands off on an old rag.

There’s an unusual glint in your eye, an unnatural stillness in your expression.

“Got what we need,” you announce cheerfully.

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #angst #reader came back Wrong #simon riley

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sukiyurii · 2 months ago

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she wants me

(sevika x fem!reader, afab reader, she/her pronouns for reader, praise, fingering, cunnilingus, softdom!sevika, sub!reader, bottom!reader, exhibitionism? not beta/proof read!) men, minors dni

your painfully annoying ex-boyfriend shows up to cause problems. sevika shows him exactly what he lost.

Your ex was persistent. Like… persistent– to the point of it being utterly overbearing. Your shabby apartment was no longer a safe place to stay at, as he would randomly show up at any and all odd hours he could find. Thus, one of your closest friends, Sevika, has offered you temporary relief in her own home.

Your friendship began almost three years ago when you began serving at The Last Drop, her attention was immediately drawn to how disgustingly nice you were. While she brushed off your kind words and attempts at friendship initially, she grew fond of you over time.

Presently, It’s been almost two months since you and your ex-boyfriend broke up. The man was absolutely obsessed with you. He was a manipulative, ugly, greedy little sump-rat who refused to leave you alone. While Sevika had no issues with putting him into the ground for his constant awful behavior, you and your tender heart continued to tell her off.

In an attempt to pull you out of your own festering anxieties, Sevika drags you out to The Last Drop, trying to brighten your mood from the traumatic relationship.

Now, you’re sitting next to her as she deals out the stack of playing cards to the men at the circular table. You’re dressed in some torn tights, small shorts, a cropped vest with a tattered t-shirt beneath it, accompanied by chunky boots. One leg is crossed over the other as you silently nurse your drink, peeking over at Sevika’s cards. You had never been someone who enjoys cards much, and playing against Sevika would’ve been a losing game anyway.

There are never really any good nights in Zaun, there’s always the underlying anxiety of ‘maybe today is the day we all get raided and killed.’ So, tonight is going just about as well as it could, realistically. Sevika is winning (as per usual) and you feel slightly at peace, grateful for the fact that she had drawn you out of your blanket-filled cocoon inside of her house.

Another deck is shuffled out, more shots are thrown back, and you finally feel a little less tense. Not drunk– it was never something you particularly enjoyed, but it was enough for you to drop your shoulders from your ears and slump back against the booth.

“My little good luck charm, hm?” She mumbles, smirking at you as she rifles through the coins that were begrudgingly slid over to her. You roll your eyes playfully in retaliation, smiling softly and finishing off the last little bit of your drink.

She leans down to press her full lips to your neck, grinning as you gasp. She keeps her strong arm around you as she places a few more chaste kisses, finalizing her ministrations with a sharp nip to the edge of your jaw. “Thank you, sweetheart,” she murmurs, pressing another kiss to the top of your head.

You move your eyes from her, to the table, and then to the crowd, absorbing the scene of Zaun’s nightlife growing. In the group of bodies dancing and bustling you spot the very last thing you wanted to see: Your ex-boyfriend. Staring directly at you.

“Sev,” you gasp quietly, which immediately snatches her attention. She looks at you first, then follows your gaze over to the crowd– immediately landing on him. Her face twists into a deep snarl as she catches his gaze.

She slams her cards down and abruptly stands up, “Everyone, out!” she growls. In return, several patrons immediately scurry out, and the rest sit in fear. “I said go, now!” she adds, which eventually forces the rest of them out.

Quick minutes pass by and you’re left stuck in the bar with Sevika and your ex. “Sevika, can we please just leave,” you huff out, standing up next to her.

“Sit your ass back down,” she hisses, pushing your shoulder gently. Rather than arguing with her as you normally would, you concede this time. You huff out annoyedly before plopping back down, knocking your boot against the base of the table.

She steps over you, placing a large hand on the back of your head as she does so— a fleeting, comforting touch. “Sev, seriously,” you repeat irritably, reaching for the tail of her cloak. She swats your hand away before silently moving forward, slowly treading towards the man in the center of the room.

“What do you want?” She snaps, crossing her arms over her chest as she stops in front of him. She stands over him, forcing him to crane his head up if he wants a half decent look at her.

Puffing his chest out, he responds with a short, “I just wanna talk to her,” and nods towards you. Irritation flares in your chest at his words and Sevika scoffs bitterly. “She doesn’t wanna talk. You dense?” she mocks back, sending you a brief glance.

“I think we should just go,” you say, attempting to dismiss the situation before it gets out of hand. She raises a hand at you, a silent gesture to stop talking before you make her mood even worse.

You quickly snap your jaw shut, huffing in defeat as she reverts her attention back to the fuming man less than fifteen from you. The very same man who nearly ruined your life for two, excruciatingly long years. You clench your jaw and train your gaze on the seemingly very interesting scotch glass in front of you.

You drum your nails against the table anxiously, overhearing a “fuck you, she’s a stupid sleazy whore anyway,” from the skrunkly-faced man. This causes her to seethe, and you barely register the movement before her metal claws are wrapped tightly around his throat.

“She’s a what?” She questions nastily, pulling him in. “She’s nothing but a piece of ass,” he tacks on, attempting to keep up the tough bravado he is rapidly losing. As her grip tightens, he attempts to stammer out an apology but all she does is shake her head and pout mockingly at him.

The words settle harshly in your chest, causing you to shift in the booth uncomfortably.

She flings his body to the ground, stepping on his back to keep his body pressed into hard flooring. She crouches down unevenly and leans in next to his ear, “you’re better off keeping your mouth shut for the rest of the night.” She hisses, lifting her foot off of him.

And the poor, unbelievably stupid man opens his mouth again. “I’m surprised you still keep her around. She’s grown boring— dry.” He spits out venomously.

You snap your head over towards them, feeling the shame morph into a different form of anger. You watch Sevika narrow her eyes at him before she scoffs bitterly and raises her foot up again. This time, her foot meets his jaw, and you hear a crack, and the yelp he lets out.

She straightens herself back up and rolls out her neck and shoulders, smirking down at his tattered form. She turns back towards your startled and half-ass trembling form, and her face softens into something more tender.

The man attempts to push himself back up, but she quickly turns around and swipes his hands from beneath him, causing him to crash back into the ground.

“Stay the fuck down.” She says, punctuating her sentence with another jab to his ribs. He shakes beneath her cruel eyes, giving her a sheepish nod.

You really shouldn’t feel the familiar heat pool between your legs while you watch her, but it’s so hard when she just looks so fucking good. All big muscles, broad shoulders, scarred and tanned skin. She’s like a walking goddess— one you would dutifully worship if given the chance to.

She walks back towards you and reaches over to grab the still half-full glass of hers on the table. She knocks it back quickly and clears her throat after, finally looking back down at you.

“You okay, baby?” She inquires sweetly, tilting your chin up with the side of her index finger.

You nod in response, still shocked into silence as you watched the scene unfold.

“You don’t believe him, do you?” She asks you, stroking her thumb over the bridge of your nose, and then over your cheekbone. You look away shamefully, knowing that you shouldn’t, but you can’t help the guilty pit that forms in your stomach.

“Oh, pretty girl— you truly don’t see how wrong he is?” She asks, giving you a sympathetic look.

“No, I— it’s not that,” you attempt to stammer out, but it’s hard when she’s looking down at you, almost predatorily.

She picks up on your growing arousal— the flushed skin and barely dampened hairline. “Would you stand up for me, sweet thing?” She requests, tugging on the collar of your shirt gently.

You nod immediately and stand up at her request, wrapping your fingers around her fleshed forearm. She guides you out of the seat of the booth and stops you in front of her.

You can see him writhing in pain, occasionally groaning, but he is far too scared to attempt to actually get up.

“You know, I do remember the little imbecile calling you boring and dry. But something is telling me that his claim is very wrong.” She states, dragging her thumb over your bottom lip as she licks over her own.

“I think that the sump-rat just doesn’t know how to take care of a girl properly,” she says, staring him down as she slides her fleshy hand from your jaw, down to the collar of your shirt again.

“It's such a shame too, y’know? He had such a beautiful little thing to cherish, touch… all of it. Couldn’t even manage to do that, huh?” She coos, trailing her metal claws up the back of your thigh, feeling it snag against your tights.

You gasp as she purposefully drags her hand up, effectively tearing them. “Sevika—” you stutter, but you’re quickly cut off as her thick lips press against yours.

“Mmpf—” you moan, eyes widening in shock. Once you adjust to the feeling, you close your eyes and grip onto her biceps firmly, rolling your hips into hers.

She nips roughly at your bottom lip, skating her hand up to grab a handful of your ass as she walks the both of you backwards. You make a confused noise but follow her regardless, making sweet little noises against her hot mouth.

You whimper as she turns you over and presses your chest onto the hardwood table, giving him a perfect view of both of you.

“What—” you make a confused sound, but the question is answered when her hands begin to work on the buckle of your studded belt. She leans forward and you feel as her breasts press into your back, “This okay?” She asks, stilling her hands on your hips as she waits for a response.

You nod eagerly, bracing yourself up on your forearms. “Yeah, I’m good,” you reply, taking a second to catch your breath.

“Yeah, you feelin’ good?” she teases, pressing her lips to your neck roughly. She suckles harshly on your skin before nipping at it, sliding one of her hands beneath the waistband of your shorts.

She teases her fingers over your clit teasingly, rubbing circles over the bundle of nerves. Your mouth drops open as you moan, grateful as you’re finally able to get some relief.

“Yeah, that’s it. Make those pretty little sounds for me,” she demands from over your shoulder, sinking her teeth into the side of your neck. The action forces you to cry out and grind yourself against her hand.

Your attention is caught by your ex-boyfriend, still battered and bruised on the ground. He growls and spits out a protest as he watches the debauchery play out.

“Did he ever make you feel like this?” She asks, pulling her hand away from your clit so that she can shove your shorts down to your mid-thigh.

“Answer me, baby,” she says lowly, giving you a light spank to your ass. “No, no, he didn’t,” you stammer out, gasping as you feel her metal claws dig into the meat of your ass.

“That’s right, isn’t it? But here you are, all soaked through your tights and panties.” She murmurs, moving both hands to the center of the sheen fabric.

“I really hope you don’t like these,” she comments. And before you can protest— she tears the fabric apart, causing you to gasp and shiver simultaneously.

Her fingers hook into the side of your panties as she yanks those down as well, rolling all of the fabric to your thighs. “Well aren’t you pretty,” she says, sliding her fingers through your folds again. You flush in embarrassment as she practically devours you with her eyes.

“Oh, fuck— Sevika,” you whimper, clawing at the edge of the table. “This all for me?” She asks smugly, rubbing her fingers against your sensitive bud again.

“Mhm– ahh,” you moan loudly, trying to gain more friction against her hand.

She slides a thick finger into you, grinning wolfishly as you release a wanton whine. She curls her fingers, slowly pushing them in and out of you. Her fingertips brush against the overly-sensitive and gummy walls inside of you. You nearly choke on your own voice as it feels like a live-wire is shooting through you.

“You had all of this ass and a sweet pussy to play with. But you wanted to act like a selfish, bigoted little rat and lose it all, didn’t you?” She mocks him, narrowing her eyes at him as her fingers work inside of you.

It’s painful for him, honestly. To watch one of the most beautiful women to ever grace Zaun’s presence get laid out by her best friend over a table. It’s humiliating for him, but exhilarating for the both of you.

"Isn't she pretty?" She asks, gently raking her claws through your hair.

"Tell her she's pretty." She commands, sneering at him as he stutters.

"Yes, she's— she's pretty," he stutters, averting his gaze back to the floor.

You finally get your revenge, and she finally gets to do the things she has spent the past few years dreaming about.

“Yeah, fuck yourself on my fingers, c’mon, doll," she mumbles, sliding a second finger into you. Her mechanical hand presses into your lower back as she presses her fingers into you faster– harder.

You moan and writhe against the table, doing exactly as she says. The wet sounds coming from between your soft thighs are unfamiliar, something you have so rarely experienced. (Much less from anyone else.)

“F-Fuck, fuck, Sevika,” you cry out, throwing your ass back against her large hand. She licks over her bottom lip as she watches you hungrily. She kicks your legs apart, pushing her fingers further inside of you.

“She ever sound like this for you?” She sneers at him, chuckling darkly at the scowl that etches onto his face.

She pulls her fingers out of you and murmurs soft apologies at your incessant whining. “One second, sweet girl,” she says, slowly lowering herself onto her knees.

She kisses along your ass cheeks and the backs of your thighs on her way down, wrapping her hands around the fronts of your thighs. She pulls you back onto her warm, eager mouth and moans once she gets her tongue on you.

She laps at you feverishly, digging her nails into your thighs as she holds you against her firmly. With your back arched and cheeked smushed against the table, you become the spitting image of arousal and lust.

She wraps her thick lips around your clit and sucks harshly, determined to bring you over the edge with her mouth.

Her moans vibrate against you and heighten the already intense pleasure. “Mmf— I’m gonna, ha,” you gasp. You feel her nod against you, a silent encouragement.

You nearly scream out in pleasure as your vision blanks out and a white heat surges from between your legs, and up your body. Quiet sobs wrack through you as the orgasm washes over you, wave after wave, and your thighs begin to tremble.

You reach back with a weak hand to push her away from you, continuing to suck in shaky breaths.

“‘Vika, please,” you beg, and she finally lets up. She presses a final sloppy kiss to your pussy and then back up your thighs.

She wraps an arm around your front and hauls you back, holding you against her. With you almost all the way up, she tilts your head towards her with her tanned hand and presses a wet kiss to your mouth.

Her metal arm holds you up as she gently pries your mouth open with her tongue, shoving your slick into your mouth. You moan at the taste and the feeling, reaching back to tangle your fingers through her hair.

She pulls away and looks back at him, “I hope you learned something from this. Now get the fuck out,” she snaps meanly, keeping your face in place.

The trembling man scrambles up and ushers out of the bar, leaving the two of you in a long-awaited peace.

“You feeling alright?” she asks, gently thumbing over one of your nipples. You nod tiredly, “yeah, ‘m okay,” you mumble, biting your bottom lip softly.

“Good, because you’re not sleeping tonight,” she replies, pressing another firm kiss to your lips.

tag list: @gracie-gloom @aurora-basin @abby-anderson-wifey @arcanestanmelvika @demonslayerfansstuff @mingitheii @helaenabugmom @wh1msyk1tten @happysmappy @lavender248 @clownesquekitten @iwillpokeyouwithmyknife @sevikas-whore @sevikasrightboob @therapyneeds @angelcorner @ghutzz4gutz @theflyingforklift @megamultifandomtrashposts @willow-nox @ugly-melon @goblin-creatcher @sevikas-baby @littlerebels @athena-winters13 @danityrell @heavenlyraindrops @eclipcee8 @depressedqueersocialists @thehotsweetie @trainboom @sapphicslearninglair @femininefables @sophhic

#arcane #fanfiction #sevika x reader #sevika #wlw #wlw smut

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inkdrinkerworld · 11 months ago

Note

can i request a girl flirting with spencer but he is too oblivious to understand she is flirting (bc of course he doesnt) so he keeps talking to her, and reader (they are dating) is FURIOUS and he is sooooo confused. i think it could be funny 🤭

post prison!spencer x sunshine!reader are out with the team when spencer gets sidetracked, you don't like that he is. 1.2k

You’re frowning into your long island iced tea. The entire team can see it and Luke is itching to make a comment. He also knows that despite your sunny disposition you might kick his shin under the table.

“You could always just go bring him back here,” Matt says, sipping his beer as he watches you burn holes into Spencer’s back.

You’re not jealous, no matter what any of them might imply.

“He’s a big boy. If he doesn’t want her flirting with him, he can just leave.”

JJ laughs into her drink, Penelope rolls her eyes as she chews her cherry and Emily shakes her head at you.

Spencer likely will remove himself from the girl if he doesn’t want to be flirted with- but since he’s been there for the last twenty minutes you suspect he isn’t as into you as they’ve all suggested.

It was silly of you to let your heart be captured by a man fresh out of prison you suppose. Your frown worsens at your thoughts, Spencer isn’t the ‘lead a girl on,’ type. Still you feel the hot and heavy sting of jealousy and something bitter settle in your chest.

“He’s still a bit awkward about this,” You roll your eyes this time. They all talk of Spencer like he’s a thirty three year old virgin. He isn’t. You know he isn’t because Penelope had informed you that he’d been in serious relationships before.

Not that you’d wanted to know.

When Spencer comes back, you’re itching for a game of cards and the rest of your team is itching for some sort of reaction from either of you.

It’s been clear over the ten months you’ve been working at the BAU, that you and Spencer have begun to orbit each other. You’re like Pluto and Charon. You bring each other breakfast, make each other’s coffee, you were even almost halfway in his lap on the jet the other day ‘doing crosswords.’ You really were doing crosswords.

They suspect you’re both just too oblivious (you) and frightened (Spencer) to do anything about the feelings everyone can see you have.

“Sorry I took so long,” though he says the words loud enough for the entire group to hear, his eyes are on you.

“Did you at least get her number?” You kick Luke in the shin then, earning a smirk from the man across from you. Maybe if you put salt in his protein powder he’ll relent.

“What?” Spencer asks, sipping his rum and coke. He brushes a curl of hair from his forehead, tucking it behind his ear.

You reach into your bag and pull out your sparkly deck of cards and shuffle them. “Oh are we doing readings?” Penelope asks, you don’t trust the peachiness of her tone.

“The girl from the bar.” Matt clarifies for Spencer, whose eyebrows shoot up to his hairline.

“Why would I get her number?” JJ looks at you with a, ‘do you see what we’re saying,’ look but you only shake your head.

You don’t care if Spencer did get her number or if he’d been flirting back with her. You’re not dating. You don’t care. At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself.

“She was flirting with you man.” Luke says and Spencer shrugs, leaning into you as Penelope takes the cards from you. They’re only playing cards, but she’s been trying to get you to read them as well as she reads tarot.

“Are you okay?” Spencer whispers in favour of a reply to Luke, eyebrows knitted together when you shrug him out of your space.

“Fine.” Emily chuckles which only worsens Spencer’s frown.

“Hey, what about this song?” JJ says, the entire group dispersing. Penelope is the last to go, leaving the ace of hearts face up on the table.

“What’s wrong?” Spencer asks, hand reaching for your chin. You shake your head from his hand. Spencer feels burned.

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine. I’m just enjoying a night out with my friends.” You make it a point to stress the word friends and Spencer almost flinches.

“I don’t believe you.” he says the words plainly. “Are you upset with me?” You turn to face him then, face stony, an expression on your face Spencer has never seen. Other than that day you were on the phone with your brother.

“Why would I be upset with you? You’re just the clueless thirty three year old everyone thinks can’t tell when a pretty girl at the bar is flirting with him.” Your words are hushed and low, your eyes dark in the poorly lit booth.

Spencer sighs, his shoulders reaching his ears before falling. “You’re jealous?”

You grumble, no point in hiding what is so very clear. “You flirt with me for ten months, and then you spend almost thirty minutes letting a stranger put their hands all over you and come back here like you didn’t know she was flirting? If you just wanted the attention you could’ve said so from the beginning, Spencer Reid.”

There’s no ‘Doctor,’ before his name that lets him know you’re being playful or funny. No, your words and your expression are the iciest thing he thinks he’s ever witnessed. You sound hurt more than anything and that makes Spencer’s heart crack right down the middle.

His hand reaches for your chin, turning you to face him. “I didn’t just want attention, you know that,”

You roll your eyes, “Oh do I?” Spencer likes this attitude on you, he can’t even pretend to lie to himself. He just doesn’t like the way you doubt him.

“I like you. You know I like you. Yes, the woman at the bar was flirting with me, but the conversation was being redirected. She was flirting with me till I told her I wasn’t interested and that I had someone waiting for me.”

You don’t believe him, “Took you twenty eight minutes to do that?”

Spencer smiles then, pressing his forehead into yours. “You’re worked up, sweet girl.” The nickname settles you a little. “It took me a little to catch on. I’ll admit it takes some getting used to from total strangers. But I didn’t enjoy her flirting with me if that’s what you’re really asking.”

Spencer’s thumb presses into the slight divot in your chin, your eyes stuck on his as he refuses to break eye contact. “I only want you to flirt with me.”

Your breath hitches, Spencer smiles. “You let her touch you.” He laughs at how petulant you sound, he knows your grip on your anger is slipping.

“Am I supposed to push her hands off me?” You nod and Spencer lets his nose run along your jaw. “You’re too much.”

Spencer doesn’t leave your side the rest of the night.

#spencerreid #spencer reid #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x black reader #spencer reid x sunshine!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x yn #spencer reid x y/n #dr spencer reid

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daycourtofficial · 11 days ago

Text

Falling in love on the fourth floor - part 14.2

Pairing: Azriel x reader | WC: 6.3k | Warnings: pure fluff baby!

Summary: a weekend trip to the lake is the perfect opportunity to have fun with your friends, despite a growing relationship with one of them

Author’s note: no one is more surprised than me at this update lmao, but yall rallied!! You were determined!! Everyone say thank you @sylvermoon for helping me by giving me a sparknotes version

Previous part | Masterlist

You are buzzing with nerves from the car ride, unable to stop looking at Azriel as Feyre and Rhys bicker in the front of the car. His smile is electric as he looks at you, his gaze not leaving yours the entire drive back.

Everyone returning to the house quickly led to an impromptu game of Scrabble between the four of you. Cassian and Mor are still missing, likely driving around town to find any forgotten liquor. Rhys and Feyre both were drinking, some pretentious sounding martini that sounded too complex for you. You opted for a wine cooler while Azriel sipped at his water next to you. There is enough alcohol in this house to supply a frat party and you’re slightly concerned over who they expect to drink it all.

It took only twenty minutes of playing before Rhys grew annoyed with Azriel’s high score, peering over Feyre’s shoulder as she counted points.

“That’s it, I’m done for the night.” Rhys finishes off his drink before grabbing Feyre’s hand, pulling her from her seat and dragging her to the stairs. The two had been sharing glances all night, and you’re fairly certain Rhysand only used Azriel’s scrabble score as a half decent excuse for them to leave.

“Good night, you two.” Feyre giggles as she passes by. They head up the stairs, their steps retreating further and further away until a door shuts, leaving the two of you alone. A silence settles over the room, something you didn’t know could happen in this house with the boys that are occupying it.

“What do we do now?” The words slip out, a bit of uncertainty to them as you look at him. The lights are low in the living room and he’s sitting in a chair across from you, the scrabble board still out.

Sore losers couldn’t even help clean up.

He looks so pretty across from you, the warm lamplight casting his features in a yellow glow that draws you in like a moth. You can’t help the nerves that burrow inside of you at finally being alone with him. You had seen him throughout the week since your date, but that had been at coffee shops and bakeries, where you could only go so far with him, needing to hold on to some sense of public decorum.

But now the two of you are alone and you can’t help the fidgeting of your hands.

“We could play a card game.”

“Didn’t you just destroy Rhys at scrabble?”

“I have a decade’s worth of resentment and petty squabbles with Rhys. I don’t have any of that with you.”

“How you flatter me,” you smile.

The two of you start gathering the scrabble pieces from the board until the table’s cleaned off. Azriel disappears for a moment, replacing the Scrabble board with a deck of cards. His fingers stutter occasionally as he shuffles the deck, his cheeks turning pink each time.

“What game are we playing?” He asks, sitting down next to you on the couch. It isn’t as close as you want him to be, but close enough to feel tipsy off his warmth.

“I was a go fish champion as a kid.”

Azriel laughs, his eyes crinkling, the pink fading from his cheeks. He looked so much younger when he smiled, the years of tragedy gone, replaced with something much more hopeful. He looks beautiful and adorable, a conflicting combination where you aren’t sure if you want to keep watching his smile or feel his lips on yours again.

If both were an option, you would take it.

“Clearly you have an unfair advantage at that game.”

“I was a child prodigy- it’s not my fault if you’re afraid.”

Each rebuttal brought the two of you closer - you could feel his breath on your face, his warmth drawing you into his body like the lone ship heading for a lighthouse. Shivers creep up your spine at the way he looks at you, like he knows exactly what you taste like and he’s starving for just a taste.

“Do we get anything if we win?”

“I could kiss you if you win.”

The pink is back to his cheeks and you know you’ve caught him off guard.

“That’s a very nice prize. I get very competitive for good prizes.”

Azriel pulls back before pulling the table closer to the two of you. You miss his warmth immediately, especially when he resituates himself, setting a cushion between you two. He starts shuffling lazily as you watch, looking between his fingers and the offending pillow that separates the two of you.

“Why’d you go all the way over there?” The pout is evident in your question. Your relationship is still too new, too much fear surrounding being labeled as too much. But you can’t help it, can’t help the draw you feel to him at all times.

“I think you got your championship title from cheating.” You gasp in indignation, playfully shoving him, his shuffling disrupted from the movement. A few cards fall on the floor as he tries to suppress a grin.

“I did not!”

His smile is captivating in the moonlight, a chuckle too soft to do more than send chills down your spine. It feels wonderful being in his company, his sole focus devoted to you. He picks up the lost cards, quickly shuffling them back into the deck.

Azriel deals the hands, his fingers twitching slightly at the fifth card. You hold your pile of cards close to you, peering over top of them at him, watching as he moved them into some kind of order.

You both place a pair down onto the coffee table - you have a pair of 7’s, him a pair of jacks.

“Who goes first?”

“You’re a child prodigy at this game - shouldn’t you know who goes first?”

“I don’t want to have too much of an advantage, I’ll let you go first.”

The pile gets smaller as you two go back and forth, exchanging cards upon the other’s request. Several pairs litter the coffee table, haphazardly set as if the people placing them there couldn’t look away for even a second.

The deck is nonexistent, your hands down to one card each. It’s Azriel’s turn, a fact he’s letting linger in the darkness.

“Just go ahead and ask, Az.”

He had beaten you. This last card is nothing more than a formality, an official end to the game.

“Before it ends, I want to ensure we both recall the terms for winning.”

“Yes, I remember.”

“Good, because I’ve forgotten.”

You fight the smile threatening to overcome your face, blinking slowly before looking at him. He wears a look of innocence that makes you want to scoff.

“If I win, you have to kiss me. If I lose, I have to kiss you.”

“Let me make sure I understand this.” His tone is all seriousness, his eyes giving away the true amusement he’s fighting back. “If I win, you have to kiss me.”

“Yes.”

“Okay. I think I understand. Do you have any 2’s?” You look back down to your cards, trying to stop the smile on your face.

“Go fish.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No, I only have a 7 left.”

Azriel looks at your hand as you show him the card before he looks at the cards laid out on the table, moving pairs to be in numeric order.

“The pack must be short a few cards.” Disappointment laces his tone, his fingers still moving cards around as he silently counts.

“You still beat me by one pair.”

He straightens at that, turning his whole body back toward you, the cards long forgotten.

“Yes, I believe I did. And that means you lost.”

You move toward him, your nose touching his as you slowly nod.

“I lost, Az. When should I pay up?”

His eyes are half closed, a slow nod of his head not an answer.

“You can pay now.”

Azriel’s lips on yours feel right, the cold of his hands a welcome presence on your face. His kiss is all consuming, the only thing you can focus on. He holds you so tenderly, each kiss delicate and firm, timidness still evident.

It’s slow and sweet, and he tastes like a mint he must have grabbed out the door of the restaurant. You crawl into his lap, his hands just shy of touching your hips.

He’s so solid and warm beneath you, his tongue parting your lips sending you into a fervor. You hold the back of his neck, desperate to keep him kissing you.

Footsteps down the stairs cause you to jump back, your back hitting the couch with a loud thud you’re hoping no one will hear. Your hand flies to the back of your head, a silent ‘ow’ leaving your lips.

“Hey guys!” Feyre’s smile is almost blinding in the darkness, her teeth shiny in the low light as she moves through the living room to the kitchen.

“Hey Fey.” Azriel’s deep voice moves through the calm night. You’re hoping she fails to notice the many directions his hair is pointing up or just how red his cheeks are from your touch.

“I’m surprised you guys are still up.” Feyre moves through the kitchen, pulling a glass from the cabinet before placing it on the counter, not even looking at the two of you.

“Azriel didn’t believe that I was a child prodigy at card games.”

“And I still don’t. I won.” There’s a hint of confidence or arrogance in his voice, something new you’re not used to hearing from him. Whatever it is, you just want to use his mouth for other things.

“It was a close game, practically a tie.”

“You sound like a sore loser.” He looks at you now, his eyes sparkling with amusement you can’t pull away from.

“No I don’t.”

“You’re acting exactly like Cassian when he loses.”

You and Feyre gasp simultaneously, her full water glass sloshing in her hand.

“That’s my cue to go back upstairs. Don’t want to get caught in this crossfire.”

“Good night.” You both respond, neither looking away to acknowledge Feyre or try to keep her longer. The moment stretches on for an eternity, jittery and giddy. You’re the one to break the silence first, your voice sounding harsh in the dark quiet.

“I should go to bed. Feyre wants to make the most of the lake tomorrow. Early start and all that.”

“I should get going too.”

Neither of you move, eyes still intertwined. Somewhere upstairs you hear a thump followed by giggles. Slowly, so slowly, you peel yourself off the couch, force yourself away from his orbit. The two of you are magnets, and if you can get just far enough, you’ll be able to stay away, to get some sleep for the next day’s activities.

But Azriel’s quick to get up after you, walking you down the hallway. His hand is hovering behind the small of your back, not quite brave enough to fully touch, but you can feel his presence through your shirt.

Things with him are real and fun and the butterflies in your stomach won’t stop batting around as you climb up the stairs. You arrive at your room much too quickly, your hand resting on the knob as you turn to look up at him, only to find him already watching you.

“Good night, Az.”

“Good night.”

He still doesn’t move. His hand reaches up like he’s about to stroke your cheek, but he puts it back down. You turn the knob, slowly backing into your room, until the wooden door separates the two of you.

It's a picturesque day as you walk down to the lake, keeping stride with Feyre. It’s a bit odd being somewhere so sacred to the four in front of you, some proverbial pillar of their youth. They are knocking shoulders, laughing with each other about summers long past. Tales of sunburns, near drowning, being flung from boats at an absurd speed.

Their voices carry a heavy dose of nostalgia, their words coated in grandiosity and the creature comforts of a beloved vacation home. The two of you follow them down the well work path from Rhys’s house to the lake, sandals hitting the sand for uneven terrain that stretches your calves. Your eyes stay on Azriel’s back, watching his muscles ripple with each step.

You had been surprised to find him shirtless in the kitchen this morning, the tiny tattoo on his hip the triplet to the ones on Cassian and Rhys’s torsos.

You grin to Feyre at the memory, sticking out your tongue slightly before yelling out, “Cassian, are you even allowed to get your tramp stamp wet?”

“They said 4-6 weeks, sweetheart.” He doesn’t stop his stride, only sticking a middle finger out at you.

“And how long ago was it done?”

Cassian slows slightly, clearly trying to think.

“It’ll be fine. It was like two months ago. It’s healed well.”

Feyre nudges her elbow into your ribs, lightly prodding. “Do you think we can get him drunk and he’ll let us color the tattoo in with markers?”

You lean against each other as you giggle before whispering, “I’ll pick up some glitter, too.”

The giggles grow louder, stopping suddenly when you run into Azriel’s back. The hard muscle is like a brick wall as you put your arms out to steady yourself, Azriel quickly turning to hold your arms.

“Sorry. We’re just at the spot.”

In your giggling with Feyre, you hadn’t noticed the folding chairs and large umbrellas that the boys were setting up. Mor was already propped up on a chair, a full wine glass in her hand watching Cassian’s arms bulge assembling the chairs.

Azriel hand ghosts over your back, leading you to a chair. You plop your towel down on it, shimmying out of your shorts before dropping them on the back of the chair. As fast as it’s there it’s gone, the slight touch of his hand warming you in a way the sun never could.

Cassian stands on the beach, his tan body practically reflecting the sun from all the oil on him. He stood large, his hands on his hips, facing all of you, his voice getting louder to bring all of you into his argument with Rhysand.

“Come on, Rhysie poo. Leapfrog off me.”

“We’re not children, Cassian.” Rhysand’s helping Feyre with her back, rubbing sunscreen beneath her bikini top straps.

“You’re just scared because of how much bigger I am than you.” Rhys’s hand stills at Cassian’s tone, the rest of you oohing like school children at the challenge Cassian was presenting.

Feyre claps Rhys’s hand, all the permission he needs before heading out to Cassian, meeting him at the water’s edge. Rhys lines up behind Cassian, the two looking decades younger than they are. Rhys’s long, athletic legs take off in a sprint. As he reaches a foot behind Cassian, Cassian quickly falls to the ground, cackling as Rhysand tries to jump before losing his balance and falling face first in the sand.

The four of you laugh from the shade, the bright sand emitting enough of its own saved heat you’re certain Rhysand got burnt from this little prank. He stays in the sand for only a moment before slowly getting up, his entire chest and face covered in sand, only to lose his footing again and fall once more.

You, Mor, and Feyre all giggle loudly, Azriel sparing a chuckle for the two. You hear Mor mention something about alcohol, but pay her no mind, too focused on the absurdity before you. Sand flies through the air as Rhysand tries to get up, kicking his feet wildly as he chases after Cassian. The two gather quite a few onlookers, but the four of you watch as Cassian out maneuvers Rhysand, too quick for his friend to catch him.

You turn, wanting to make a joke to Feyre, only to find hers and Mor’s seats empty. It’s then you realize no one had retrieved the cooler of alcohol Mor and Cassian likely spent all night filling up. You turn to Azriel, the shade and breeze making it feel like the perfect day.

“Can you help me?”

“Of course. Anything.”

You hold out the bottle of sunscreen to him, his hands not quite grasping it.

“Can you do my back? I can’t reach and I really should have done it before leaving the house.”

He stares blankly at you, his face an empty slate as he looks at you. One of his hands shakes imperceptibly before he balls it into a fist. You look up at him sweetly, fluttering your lashes at him just a little.

You bite your lip as he takes the bottle, squeezing it a bit hard when he takes it. You turn to the side, starting to undo the back of your top when you feel the bottle drop onto the end of the chair. Out of the corner of your eye you see Az scrambling to pick it back up, not daring to make eye contact with you.

“You okay, Az?”

“I’m good. I’m fine.”

You nod, turning away again. You hold your top to your chest as you unknot the back, letting the strings fall to your side. You sit for a moment, the sounds of Rhysand and Cassian yelling at each other keeping this from turning into a fully awkward silence. A beat passes, your teeth gnawing on your lip the only thing keeping you sane.

You start to worry, certain you’ve gone too far, when you hear the sunscreen being squeezed from the bottle, feeling Azriel’s hands spreading the cold lotion across your shoulders. His touch is gentle, his fingers making you feel like fireworks were shooting off in your chest.

He’s so delicate as he rubs the lotion across every inch of your back, gently sloping across your curves. His other hand holds your hair to the side, allowing him full access to the expanse of your spine. It’s nearly sinful the way he caresses you, his touch tender.

It’s over all too quickly, the cap back on the bottle startling you from the spell. You come back to your senses, bird calls and shouts coming back into focus. You turn to face him, his body too large for the foot of the chair he’s now occupying.

“Uh, thanks Az.”

He only nods, turning his body slightly away from you. He finally lets go of your hair, letting it fall back into place. You turn to see what has his attention, only to find him focusing on Cassian and Rhysand. The two are still fighting, running around, flinging sand in every direction. You both watch numbly, not knowing how much time has gone by, until an ice cold bottle is being put into your hand.

“Wine cooler?” Mor asks, already twisting the top off for you. You nod in thanks as she hands Azriel one too.

“They’re both stupid,” is all she says before she takes a big swig of the red alcohol.

The day goes by in a warm blur, the bright sun moving across the sky as you splash in the water for a bit, then moving to the beach chairs to lay out, and then repeating the cycle over and over again. If you sat in the shade for too long, Cassian would come over and threaten to carry you to the water if you didn't get up.

After a few hours, he stops himself right in front of you, telling you you’re going to play chicken with him and Feyre. Mor had just refused, not wanting to damage her recent manicure, but it did little to deter Feyre and Cassian’s determination to play.

Before you know it, Feyre is perched on Cassian’s shoulders, watching as you stand in front of Azriel, shifting from foot to foot. Her smile is big as she watches him crouch in front of you, waiting as you hook your legs around his neck.

He stands to his full height, supporting your weight very easily. A small part of you wishes you could be turned the other way on his shoulders. You sigh, trying not to let your thoughts get too out of hand.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, holding on tight as he wades into the water, standing across from Cassian and Feyre.

The two are taller than you are - Cassian’s tall frame and Feyre’s long torso making the two appear larger than life. But you feel confident with Azriel beneath you, like he’d never let anything happen to you.

Not even let you fall in a game with friends on the lake.

You had a good feeling about Azriel. He’s fast - faster than Cassian and Rhys, used to maneuvering quickly on his motorcycle. Steady beneath you, even in knee deep water.

You sigh, knowing just how deep you’re in with him. Feyre waggles her eyebrows at you, a movement you’re not sure Azriel sees or not.

From the sand, Mor’s loud voice calls out, “everyone ready?”

Four thumbs lift up toward her, her low voice counting down.

“3, 2, 1. Go!”

The second she says to go, Cassian’s off like a rocket, Feyre jostling on his shoulders. Azriel digs into the sand, a defensive stance as you sink just a bit lower, securing yourself into place. You reach your arms out, blocking Feyre from shifting your balance.

Your legs loop underneath his armpits, locking you in place on his shoulders. Cassian is attempting to push Azriel, but he’s stable, pushing Cassian’s own weight back at him. For a moment, the four of you are at a standstill, no progress being made. But suddenly, Feyre begins pushing back harder against you, trying desperately to knock you off balance.

The idea comes to you in an instant. You let go of Feyre’s hands, quickly moving your fingers to Azriel’s scalp. Gripping his hair, you try to convey go to the right by yanking him in that direction. He quickly picks up on it, quickly sliding the two of you out of the way.

They fall in slow motion, Feyre hitting the water first, followed quickly after by Cassian. The two make a large splash, the cold water hitting you and Azriel. You squeal at both the splash and at realizing you won.

“We won! Azzy, we won!” You chant, pumping your fist in the air just like Cassian does when his favorite song comes on the radio. On the shore, you can hear Mor and Rhys’s drunken cheering before Rhys walks to the water’s edge with a towel. Cassian scrambles up the bank, trying to take the towel from Rhys, but he snatches it away, holding it out of Cassian’s reach until Feyre makes her way over to them.

Azriel crouches back down in the water, trying to help you off his shoulders. You’re able to slide a leg off of one, but lose balance, somehow sliding onto his front like you had been fantasizing about only ten minutes ago. You slide down his chest, one of your legs hooked around his hip before your left foot finds the sandy bottom of the water.

You stare at him, his large chest at eye level and you’re practically in a trance as you reach out and touch him. He shivers lightly, any trace of the sun’s warmth gone from his dark, icy eyes.

The spell is broken when you feel a very prominent member rubbing against your stomach, finding Azriel’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He just stares at you, his mouth slightly ajar, before he turns and starts walking further into the water.

“Az, where are you going?” Cassian yells as you try to fight the heat on your face, using your hands as a fan. You could feign a sunburn, right?

“Um, just gonna- take a lap.”

Cassian starts running after him, splashing water with each step, passing you in an awkward flurry of limbs.

“You’re not beating my time! I made it out to that buoy and back fair and square last year! I knew it bothered you!”

Cassian dives into the water, aggressively swimming to catch up to Azriel. The two quickly become nothing more than blobs of splashing water on the horizon, headed for a distant buoy, while you stand watching, not moving, trying to erase the etching of his body from your skin.

The heat of the bonfire is pleasant against your wet skin. The exhaustion of the day sinks into your bones. Leaning your back against the seat, you close your eyes, listening as Cassian and Rhysand bickered to your left.

At some point, when the sun started setting and it started cooling off, the boys broke down the tent, moving all the chairs into a circle around a makeshift bonfire. Cassian had nothing short of a great time moving along the beach, collecting sticks and branches, boasting on how manly he was.

The fire crackles loudly, forcing you to open your eyes only to find Azriel’s gaze locked onto the flames, his eyes orange with heat and pain. You’re not sure if anyone else has noticed, but you slowly get up, moving over to sit next to him. He doesn’t acknowledge you, his body rigid in focus.

“Hey Az.” You slowly move so you’re touching him, your thighs pressed against his. You feel him move into your touch, emboldening you enough to reach out and hold his arm. “Are you okay?”

He strains beneath your hand, the muscles in his forearm flexing tighter. Rubbing soothing circles on his skin has him relaxing, but not enough to keep you from worrying. The fire pops loudly again, startling Azriel out of your hold.

“I’m going to go. I need to shower.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” You whisper.

“I-uh no, I’ll be okay.”

He brushes past you, your heart dropping as you watch him tread back up to the house. You sit for a moment alone, trying to soothe the sting of rejection before moving back over to Cassian, too engrossed with his conversation with Rhys to even notice you had gone anywhere.

Rhys claps Cassian on the back as Feyre nuzzles into his side, the pair getting up and giving small waves before going back to the house themselves.

Cassian straightens out his leg, a grunt accompanying the movement as he kneads the skin of his knee.

“You looked like you were having fun out there earlier.” And he had. You had never seen Cassian with such joy on his face as he ran around the sand, tackling his proclaimed brothers and throwing a ball around. He only nods, a pained expression on his face.

“Did you hurt yourself out there?”

“Old injury flared up.”

“What happened? Sports injury?”

Cassian looks down at the beer bottle in his fingers, “uh yeah, I used to play rugby. Got a scholarship and everything.”

He takes a swig of his beer, and you don’t say anything to let him continue. The airiness to Cassian had left with Rhysand, only leaving a somber version of himself behind, a dark mist over his eyes at some memories long forged.

“Some point senior year of high school, I was dicking around, hanging out with idiots I shouldn’t have been hanging around. I fell, and they left me there.”

Your heart shatters at his nonchalance, how bored his tone sounded. How does anyone treat him, your roommate, an incredibly nice man, like this?

“I just laid there for ages before someone found me and called for an ambulance.”

Another swig. You forgot to breathe, not knowing how to console Cassian. How could you? Your own breathing was speeding up at the story, even knowing he is fine sitting next to you.

“No idea how long I was out. I was too injured to play, but I figured I could stay with Rhys and Az for a year and enroll the next year. I followed them around everywhere, and I guess the habit stuck. Then Rhys’ mom and sister died our freshman year. I couldn’t leave them after that.”

You just lean against his arm, running his bicep in what you hope is a soothing motion.

“I can’t believe anyone would treat you like that, Cass.” He shrugs, but you catch a glint in his eye, a quick flash of the old wound. He drinks from his bottle again, finishing it off, looking around the fire.

Rhys and Feyre had been caught by Mor on their way to leave, the blonde enticing Feyre with some story she couldn’t miss out on. Rhys and Mor are telling Feyre some story of their youth, some long forgotten heist of sorts. They keep butting into each other, the other getting details wrong. Their laughs echo out across the water, bringing a slight twitch to Cassian’s lips.

“Ancient history.”

Drinking on the beach is fun until you’re waking up in the middle of the night and you have a pounding headache because you forgot to drink water.

You leave your shared room with Feyre, half stumbling in the dark to not wake her up. You move through the house to quench your thirst, practically setting up a tent at the filtered water coming from the fridge. After three glasses of water, you cut yourself off, your headache calmed down. You top the glass off once more before padding up the stairs. You make it to the landing, stopping when you hear a slight noise. You want to write it off, telling yourself it’s probably Cassian and Mor hooking up.

But then you hear it again, and it sounds more pitiful than any noise you ever heard from Cassian or Mor. It was closer to a whimper, like a wounded animal. You backtrack, listening closely until you determine the noise came from Azriel’s room.

You stop outside his door, debating if this is an invasion of privacy or not. You bounce on the balls of your feet, trying to decide what to do, when you hear a moan coming from down the hallway,

That pushes you forward, your hand moving to the knob. You turn the knob slowly, moving your feet softly on the hardwood floor. You peek your head in, trying to determine what the noise was. Your heart breaks a little that the noise came from Azriel, his breathing ragged and his arms twitching as he sleeps. You pause, not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable, but you also know something isn’t right.

Taking in a deep breath, you wander further in his room, closing the door softly behind you. You stand next to the bed, looking down at his face while setting down your glass of water. Up close he looks worse - he’s thrashing a bit now, soft whimpers coming from his mouth, and he’s sweating. You place your hands on his shoulders, shaking gently while whispering his name. It doesn’t help, his eyes stay closed, lost to whatever hellscape is occupying his mind.

You look around the room, realization dawning that Azriel forgot his small stuffed bat he told you he sleeps with. You wonder how he left something so important behind. He twitches again, soft whimpers coming from him before he thrashes violently.

“Az, it’s okay,” you shush, placing a knee on the bed to try to wake him again. You’re about to reach his shoulders when his arms suddenly wrap around your waist and you collapse onto the bed next to him. You stay completely still, your heart hammering as he wraps his large body around you, every limb greedily trying to hold onto you.

You hadn’t seen this room when you walked around the house earlier, but it seems less like a guest room and more like an actual bedroom. The walls have a few photos and decorations on them, but you pay them no mind as he squeezes you tightly.

The effect is immediate - his twitching slows, his movements stilling. You feel his hands grip onto you, one of his legs slinging over your hip. You don’t let yourself think about it as his weight and warmth settle over you, making your eyes heavy.

You don’t think he’d be upset, but it does feel like an invasion of his privacy.

You can’t bring yourself to think of the morning, waking up to a not empty bed, because 1) you can’t actually do anything about it and 2) it might just break your heart if he’s upset. His breathing is heavy against you, his arm and leg keeping you locked into place even if you wanted to leave.

The next morning is hazy, trying to remember where you are as the room comes into focus. You jolt slightly as you remember that this is not your room.

You turn to look at Azriel only to find his hazel eyes already looking at you. His face is sleepy, eyes only half open, but he looks just as handsome as ever. He even still has pillow indents on his cheek.

“Good morning.” You crack a smile as you feel his hand rub your back. You twist slightly, wanting a better look at him. His hair is a mess, the black curls all tangled from the restless sleep he had the night before.

“Hi.”

“This is a surprise.” He doesn’t look upset or angry. He’s just relaxed - probably the most relaxed you’ve ever seen him. Like this is normal and he doesn’t know how to wake up any other way.

His hazel eyes are gorgeous as you look at him, the gold and brown swirling together the way a vibrant sunset does, unsure where the colors meet together to become one.

“Sorry for intruding. You uh- I think you were having a bad dream so I just…”

“Got into my bed?”

You laugh a bit too loudly for the moment.

“You pulled me in.” He hums lightly, and you’re not sure if it’s because he’s too sleepy to care how you wound up in his bed or if he wouldn’t mind you coming back. His arms push lightly on your back, pulling you closer toward him.

“Hopefully Cassian doesn’t have bad dreams around you.”

Your noses are only an inch apart and you can stop looking down to try to get a peek at his full lips. Memories of the night before crash over you, the slight rejected sting of Azriel running off catching back up.

“Are you okay? You left kind of abruptly last night.”

“Oh.” He pauses, his face not giving anything away. His smile is gone, the sleepy grin replaced with some half-off attempt at it. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

He sighs out of his nose, slightly burying his face into your shoulder. His phone chimes from somewhere beneath his pillow, the text alert enough to save him from this conversation. His hand pulls away, your skin already growing cold from the loss of contact.

“It’s Rhys. Breakfast is almost ready.”

Despite not having slept in your room and finding it empty this morning, you are the first person to arrive downstairs. Rhys is in the kitchen, flipping pancakes like his life depends on it, whistling some pop song you couldn’t quite name.

“Where is everybody?”

“Hungover and slow, if I had to guess.” You climb onto one of the barstools, a bit mesmerized by Rhys’s confidence while he moves about. You didn’t know he even knew how to cook a premade pizza, much less an entire breakfast for several people. “They have also never been on time to anything that occurs before 9 AM.”

You check the clock on your phone before responding, “it’s 10:30.”

“Hangover causes a time delay by about two hours.”

You shrug, lightly tapping your fingers on the counter, a bit antsy. Azriel had just completely shut down, practically cutting himself off from you after you brought up last night. It makes you feel uneasy and in desperate need of a distraction.

“Do you need any help?”

“I’m almost done, but thanks.” Rhys is now plating things, filling several plates full of perfectly timed scrambled eggs, bacon, and pancakes, containers of fresh fruit already on the table.

“I didn’t know you could cook.”

He continues in his flurry of movement, stacking as many plates in his arms he can fit before taking them to the table. You grab two of them, the only ones he’ll let you take.

“It’s tradition. I did it the year after my mom died. She loved having a full house of kids to feed.”

You think of your own parents, hardly having heard from them since moving out months ago. How the sting had subsided so soon because, really, had they ever cared about you?

Not like this.

Rhys’s mom had taken in Cassian and Azriel, but were they now continuing that cycle by taking you in?

“We fought at the table constantly, broke an unquantifiable amount of dishes and glassware. Cassian once stabbed Azriel at the table.” Your eyebrows shoot up, never having heard that particular tale.

“Don’t get too excited. It was a fork in the arm. But still. She loved it.”

“I think she loved you guys.”

As if on cue, everyone else wanders in in a half hungover daze, shuffling to the warm, fresh food.

“She definitely did.”

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#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel fanfic #azriel x you #acotar writing #azriel x y/n #azriel shadowsinger x you #azriel shadowsinger fanfiction #falling in love on the fourth floor

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whereforarthur · 7 months ago

Text

Poker Night Never Felt So Right

Pairing: ArthurTv x Reader x George Clarke x Chrismd

Summary: A game of strip poker with your friends, goes a little further than anyone expected...

Category: Mature (SMUT)

Word Count: 5k

*****

Let’s play strip poker

And they removed all their doubts

And their insecurities,

And finally made out,

They lay all naked with not a single secret left,

They were happy and kissed their fate for they meet. -Tiara

"Alright, lads and lady," Chris announced, glancing at the group and y/n, slapping a fresh deck of cards onto the worn-out kitchen table, "Poker night is in full swing."

The aroma of George's burnt lasagna filled the flat, a constant reminder of his culinary disasters that had become a tradition in their weekly gatherings. Arthur's eyes lit up as he pulled out his favorite chair, the one with the slightly wonky leg that made everyone else wobble but somehow suited him perfectly.

Y/n, the sole female in this sea of testosterone, rolled her eyes at their juvenile antics but couldn't help the smirk that tugged at the corner of her lips. She'd known these three since starting YouTube, and their friendship had endured through the chaos of their YouTube fame.

Chris shuffled the cards with a dexterity that suggested he'd had a bit too much practice, while George attempted to mimic his skill, earning a chuckle from Arthur. Y/n took a sip of her beer, the cool liquid cutting through the tension of the room.

"I've got an idea," George said, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Since it's just us tonight, how about we spice things up a bit?"

Chris paused mid-shuffle, raising an eyebrow. "Spice it up how?"

George leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "Strip poker. You know, like they do in the movies."

The room went quiet for a beat before Arthur let out a hearty laugh, slapping his hand on the table. "You're joking, right?"

Y/n took another sip of her beer, eyeing George over the rim. "As if I'd agree to that."

Chris grinned, playing along. "Aw, come on, it'll be fun! Plus, you've got nothing to worry about, you're a pro at poker."

Y/n set her beer down, her expression unreadable. "Fine, but only if we all agree to keep it friendly. No funny business, got it?"

Chris and Arthur exchanged a look, the unspoken challenge hanging in the air. "Friendly, got it," Arthur said with a nod.

The game began, the shuffling of the cards and the clinking of beer bottles punctuating the occasional bursts of laughter. Y/n focused on her hand, trying to ignore the electric current of excitement that buzzed through her. The guys were her closest friends, but the thought of playing strip poker with them sent a thrill down her spine that she couldn't quite shake.

Arthur's luck, however, didn't seem to be in his favor tonight. His hand trembled slightly as he placed his bet, and when the cards were revealed, his face fell. "Bugger," he muttered, glancing at the table as he realized he'd lost the first round.

With a dramatic sigh, he stood up, his chair scraping against the floor. "Alright, alright," he said, playing it cool as he pulled his shirt over his head. The room was a mix of cheers and good-natured laughter as he tossed it aside, revealing his bare chest. He sat back down, his cheeks flushing slightly as he tried to cover his modesty with his arms. "Remember, this is all in good fun," he said, his voice a bit shakier than he'd intended.

Y/n couldn't help but blush as she took in Arthur's abs. They were surprisingly defined, a testament to his gym routine, and boxing history. She quickly averted her gaze to her cards, hoping the flush on her cheeks would be attributed to the heat of the kitchen rather than her newfound appreciation for Arthur's physique.

The game continued, the tension ramping up with each new hand. Despite her initial confidence, y/n felt her heart racing as she tried to read the guys' faces for tells. Chris remained stoic, his poker face unwavering, while George's was as transparent as always, his eyes widening with every good card. Arthur, on the other hand, had become a closed book since his shirt came off, his focus solely on the game.

Y/n's luck took a nosedive, and she found herself holding a pathetic hand of cards. She bit her lip, contemplating her next move. The pot grew larger, and the stakes grew higher. She could feel the heat from the oven and the anticipation from her friends. With a deep breath, she called George's bet, hoping for a miracle. The cards flipped over, and George's smug grin told her everything she needed to know. She'd lost this round.

The room grew silent as she slowly stood up, her heart racing. She unzipped her hoodie, letting it fall to the floor. Underneath, she wore a simple black tank top that clung to her curves. She caught Arthur's eyes lingering on her for a moment too long, and she couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement. She took a seat, trying to regain her composure.

"Looks like the tides are turning," Chris said with a smirk, his eyes never leaving her.

The boys' laughter filled the room as they joked about her losing streak. Y/n felt her cheeks heat up, but she shrugged it off, playing along with their banter. "Just a bad hand, that's all," she said, trying to sound nonchalant.

The next few rounds were a blur of cards and clinking bottle caps. Y/n managed to win a few hands, but her losses outweighed her victories. Her stack of clothes grew smaller, and she found herself down to her bra and jeans. She gulped, trying to ignore the way Arthur's gaze lingered on her when he thought she wasn't looking.

Chris's hand won again, and George's smug look was wiped clean as he had to remove his trousers, revealing his colorful boxers with cartoon characters on them. The room erupted in laughter, and George shot a playful glare at y/n. "You're enjoying this too much," he teased, but his cheeks were flushed, and she could see the excitement in his eyes.

The other boys were staring too, but not just at George. They couldn't help but sneak glances at y/n, their gazes lingering on her in a way that made her acutely aware of her dwindling clothing. She felt their eyes on her, and the air grew thicker, charged with a tension that was no longer just about the game. It was about the thrill of the reveal, the anticipation of what would come next.

Chris dealt the next hand, his eyes flicking up to meet y/n's. She couldn't read his expression, but she knew he was enjoying the game more than he let on. They all were. The stakes had changed, and the atmosphere in the room had shifted from friendly competition to something else entirely.

Y/n studied her cards, her heart racing. A full house stared back at her, and she couldn't help the smug smile that spread across her face. This was it, her chance to get back in the game. She raised the bet, watching as the boys' expressions grew serious. They had to know she had something good.

The bets went around the table, and the moment of truth arrived. Y/n laid her cards down with a flourish, her heart pounding in her chest. The room was silent as the boys revealed their hands. George had a pair of twos, and Arthur had a straight. But it was Chris who had the nerve to call her bluff. He laid down his cards with a wink, revealing a royal flush. The air whooshed out of her lungs, and she felt the blood drain from her face.

"Looks like it's your turn, love," Chris said, his voice thick with victory.

Y/n felt a bead of sweat trickle down her spine as she reached behind her back, fumbling with the clasp of her bra. She took a deep breath and let it fall away, feeling the cool air of the flat kiss her skin. She kept her eyes on the table, focusing on the cards as the fabric hit the floor. The room was so quiet she could almost hear her own heartbeat echoing off the walls.

The silence was palpable, thick and heavy, as if the very air in the room had turned to jelly. The boys didn't dare to look up, their eyes glued to their own cards or the beer bottles in their hands. They were her friends, her colleagues, but in this moment, they were also men, and she was very aware of it. The game had taken a turn she hadn't anticipated, and she felt vulnerable in a way she hadn't felt in a very long time.

Finally, she looked up, her gaze meeting Chris's. He held her stare for a beat too long, and she saw something in his eyes that made her pulse quicken. It wasn't just the thrill of the game anymore; it was something deeper, something she hadn't expected to find in a casual poker night.

"Good game," Arthur murmured, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate through the room. His eyes flicked over her exposed skin before darting back to his cards, and she couldn't help but feel a flutter in her stomach.

Y/n cleared her throat, trying to ignore the sudden self-consciousness that had crept over her. "Alright, let's keep playing," she said, her voice a little too high.

George, ever the opportunist, leaned back in his chair, his eyes gleaming. "Someone's getting a bit flustered, aren't they?"

The room grew tense as George's comment hung in the air, unspoken feelings now laid bare. Y/n felt a blush creep up her neck, her hands clinching into fists at her sides. "It's just a game, George," she said through gritted teeth, trying to keep her cool.

"Fine, fine," he chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Let's keep it friendly, yeah?"

The game resumed, but the dynamics had shifted. The banter was less playful, the glances more intense. Y/n could feel the energy in the room pulsing with every card drawn, every piece of clothing removed. Her hands were trembling slightly as she dealt the next hand, her eyes avoiding the hungry stares of the boys. She focused on the game, trying to ignore the heat of their gazes on her bare skin.

*****

George's luck had run out, and he was just left in his boxers. His cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red as he realized loosing this hand, meant losing them. He met y/n's eyes, and she could see the nervous excitement in his gaze. She felt a strange sense of power, a thrill that was as intoxicating as it was alarming. She called his bet, her heart racing.

And of course that’s what happened George lost the hand, and lost his boxers. They were ridiculous, covered in cartoon characters that clashed with the seriousness of the moment. But as he stood up, the room's focus shifted from the ridiculousness of the situation to the very real and very attractive man in front of them. Y/n couldn't help but feel a flicker of attraction she'd never noticed before, not like this.

Chris cleared his throat, his eyes lingering on George's newly exposed skin before flicking back to his own cards. The air in the flat was charged, and the smell of George's aftershave filled the room, a scent that was at once familiar and entirely new in this context. Arthur's poker face remained unchanged, but his knuckles were white as he gripped his beer bottle, his eyes darting from George to y/n.

The next few rounds were a battle of wills, each player trying to maintain their composure as the clothes piled up on the floor. Y/n's jeans were the next to go, and she felt a shiver run down her spine as she stepped out of them, leaving her in just her panties. The guys' eyes darted up to meet hers, and she could see the struggle in their expressions as they tried to keep the game friendly.

But the game had taken on a life of its own, and the line between friendship and desire was blurring. The stakes were no longer just about winning; they were about power, attraction, and the thrill of the unknown. The tension grew with every card dealt, every article of clothing removed. It was no longer just a game of poker; it had become a dance of seduction, a silent negotiation of boundaries.

Chris's eyes never left y/n's, his gaze dark and intense. The air between them crackled with an energy that was impossible to ignore. As the rounds went on, the smiles and laughter grew forced, the room thick with the scent of pheromones and anticipation. Y/n felt a strange thrill at the thought of pushing the boundaries, of seeing how far they'd all go.

The next hand was dealt, and the tension grew palpable. Y/n studied her cards, feeling the heat of the guys' gazes on her bare legs. She knew that she had a good hand, but the game had become less about winning and more about the thrill of the risk. She raised the bet, watching as the other two exchanged glances. The silence stretched out, the only sound the crackling of the cards and the occasional clink of bottle caps.

Chris called her bluff, laying down his hand with a smug smile. George fully nude now. Both Chris and Arthur in their underwear, the fabric clinging to their growing arousal. Y/n felt a strange mix of nervousness and excitement, her heart racing as she took in the sight of her friends in such a vulnerable state. The room felt like it was closing in on her, the heat from the oven now a stark contrast to the coolness of her bare skin.

The next round began, and the stakes were higher than ever. Y/n's hand trembled as she placed her bet, watching as Chris and Arthur followed suit. She had nothing to lose now but her pride and the last shred of their friendship's innocence. The cards were flipped over, and she felt a jolt of victory as she revealed a full house. Arthur's face fell, and she knew she had him beat.

"Alright, Arthur," she said, her voice steady despite the racing of her heart. "Looks like it's your turn."

Arthur swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He reached down to remove his underwear, and Y/n couldn't help but watch, her eyes widening slightly as he revealed himself. He was more than she'd ever allowed herself to imagine, and she felt a rush of warmth flood her cheeks. The room was a cacophony of shuffling papers and shallow breaths, the only sound louder than her pounding heart.

Chris took a sip of his beer, his eyes never leaving hers. He leaned back in his chair, his own arousal evident, and she realized with a start that he was enjoying this game more than he'd ever let on. "Looks like we're all in this together now," he said, his voice low and gruff.

*****

The game had become about more than just poker; it was a silent dare, a push and pull of power and desire that none of them could ignore.

Chris collected the cards, shuffling them with a deliberate slowness that had y/n's stomach flipping. "Alright, lads," he said, his voice a low rumble, "whoever wins the next hand gets to ask y/n to do something for them."

Her heart skipped a beat, and she took a sip of her beer, trying to play it cool. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice betraying the slight tremble in her chest.

Chris leaned in, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Whatever we want, within reason. Just a little extra... entertainment."

Y/n felt a thrill of anticipation mixed with nerves. "As long as it's not too embarrassing," she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

Chris grinned, his eyes flicking over her body. "Oh, I think we're past the point of embarrassment."

The room was thick with tension as the final hand was dealt. Y/n picked up her cards, trying to focus on the game, but her mind was racing with the possibilities of what could happen next. She had a decent hand, but she knew that Chris was playing to win.

The bets were placed, and the air was electric as the cards were revealed. Y/n felt a surge of victory as she saw she had a full house again, beating Arthur's two pairs.

Y/n felt a mix of excitement and nerves, her eyes flicking to Chris, who was watching her with an intense gaze. She knew he'd won the round, but the real prize was in the daring request he was about to make.

Chris leaned in closer, his eyes dark with desire. "Alright, love," he said, his voice a low rumble, "it's time for your forfeit."

Y/n's heart raced as she took in the sight of Arthur and George, both fully exposed and equally as nervous. She had no idea what Chris had in mind, but she knew it would be something she'd never forget. She took a deep breath, bracing herself for his words.

Chris leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving hers. "I want you to kiss me," he said, his voice low and commanding.

The room froze, the only sound the erratic beating of her heart. She felt the color drain from her cheeks as she met his gaze, his eyes dark and hungry. For a moment, she couldn't breathe, the weight of his words sinking in. Then, with a slow nod, she leaned in, her heart racing.

The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if both of them were testing the waters. But as their lips met, something ignited between them, a spark that grew into a flame. Her hands found their way to his shoulders, gripping him tightly as the kiss deepened. Arthur and George watched, their own tension palpable, their eyes flickering between y/n and Chris, their friendship and their desires colliding in a way none of them had anticipated.

Chris's hands slid up her arms, pulling her closer, his tongue tracing the seam of her lips. Y/n's body responded, arching into him as the kiss grew more urgent. The room was a blur of heat and need, the air thick with the scent of arousal and the faint scent of George's burnt lasagna.

When they finally broke apart, they were both panting, their eyes locked. The room was silent, the only sound the crackling of the oven and the thudding of their hearts. Arthur and George watched, their expressions a mix of shock and arousal. Y/n's cheeks were flushed, and she couldn't believe what had just happened.

"Fuck me," George murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "That was..."

"Hot," Arthur finished for him, his eyes glued to the sight of Chris and y/n tangled in a passionate kiss. The atmosphere in the room had shifted so dramatically, it was as if someone had flipped a switch, turning the innocent game of poker into an intense, erotic battleground.

Chris's hand slid down y/n's back, cupping her ass as he deepened the kiss. She gasped into his mouth, the heat of his touch sending a bolt of pleasure through her. The air was thick with the scent of their desire, and she could feel the warmth of Arthur and George's gazes on her exposed skin. The game had evolved into something she'd never expected, but the thrill of it was undeniable.

Breaking away from Chris, she turned to face Arthur, her eyes flicking to his evident arousal. "Looks like you're up," she said, her voice husky with desire. Arthur's cheeks reddened, but he met her gaze, his eyes smoldering.

"What's the forfeit?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/n leaned in, her breasts brushing against his bare chest. "You get to kiss me too," she murmured, her breath hot against his ear.

Arthur's eyes widened, and for a moment, she thought he might refuse. But then, with a nod, he leaned in, capturing her mouth in a kiss that was just as fiery as Chris's. His hands found her waist, pulling her closer as their tongues danced together. The room spun around her, the lines between friendship and desire blurring into a haze of passion.

George, not to be left out, approached her from behind, his naked body pressing against her back. She could feel his erection against her, and she shivered with anticipation. "I guess it's only fair," he murmured, his hands sliding around her waist.

The kiss with Arthur grew more urgent, his hands exploring her body as George's lips found the sensitive skin of her neck. She moaned, the sensations overwhelming her. The three of them were entangled in a dance of lust, their friendship forever changed by this night.

As Arthur pulled away, George took his place, his lips brushing against hers. His kiss was gentle at first, but soon grew in intensity, his hands caressing her breasts. She felt a hand slide down her stomach, and she gasped as it reached the apex of her thighs. It was Chris, his fingers teasing her through her damp panties.

The room was a whirlwind of sensations, and y/n was lost in the moment. She couldn't tell where one kiss ended and another began, only knew that she was the center of their attention, the object of their desire. It was thrilling and terrifying all at once.

"Take them off," George murmured, his voice thick with lust.

Y/n's hands trembled as she slid her panties down her legs, stepping out of them. The cold floor sent a shiver through her body, and she felt more exposed than she ever had in her life. But the way the boys were looking at her, with a mix of awe and hunger, made her feel anything but vulnerable.

Chris's hand found her again, his fingers delving into her slick folds. She moaned into George's mouth, the pleasure building within her. Arthur watched, his eyes dark with need. The air was charged with a current of desire that had them all in its grip.

The poker game was forgotten, the kitchen a mess of cards and discarded clothing. The only thing that mattered was the heat between them, the unspoken promises in their eyes. The night had taken a wild turn, and as the three of them moved closer, y/n knew there was no going back. This was a new chapter in their friendship, one filled with passion and the thrill of the unknown.

And she was ready to play her hand.

*****

Chris's fingers worked their magic, sending waves of pleasure through her body. She moaned into George's mouth, her hips bucking against Chris's hand. The sensation was too much, and she felt her orgasm building. Arthur's hand joined the fray, his calloused fingers teasing her nipples, sending jolts of electricity straight to her core.

They were all in this together now, their friendship forever changed by this night of strip poker turned passionate frenzy. Y/n had never felt so desired, so wanted. The kisses grew deeper, more intense, as the three of them explored each other's bodies with an urgency that could no longer be contained.

George's hands roamed her body, his touch setting her skin on fire, while Arthur's kisses grew more demanding. She felt a hand slide down her back, reaching around to cup her ass, and she knew it was Arthur. The thrill of having both of them touch her at once was almost too much to bear.

Chris's touch grew more insistent, and she felt herself climbing towards the edge. She broke away from George's kiss, panting, her eyes meeting Arthur's. "Fuck me," she breathed, the words barely a whisper.

They didn't need any further encouragement. Arthur and George shared a look, and she could see the understanding in their eyes. They knew what she wanted, what they all needed. This was no longer a game; it was a declaration of desire that could no longer be ignored.

With a growl, Arthur picked her up, setting her on the edge of the kitchen table. She spread her legs, her heart racing as she watched him stroke his length. She felt a thrill of desire that made her knees wobble. George stepped aside, his own arousal evident, making room for Arthur to claim her.

Chris stepped back, watching with a hunger that made her insides quiver. "Take her," he said, his voice low and urgent. "Make her scream."

Arthur positioned himself between her thighs, his cock hard and ready. He leaned in, kissing her again, and she felt the tip of him at her entrance. With a gentle push, he slid inside, filling her completely. She gasped, her nails digging into the table as he began to move.

The sensation was exquisite, and she felt the room spin as the pleasure built. George's hands were on her breasts again, his mouth finding her neck, his teeth grazing her skin. The three of them moved together, a symphony of passion that she never wanted to end.

Chris stepped closer, his hand wrapping around his own erection as he watched the scene unfold. "So beautiful," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "So fucking beautiful."

Their eyes met, and she knew he was next. The thought of all three of them together was too much, and she felt her orgasm crest, her body tightening around Arthur. He groaned, his thrusts growing more urgent, and she knew he was close too.

With a final, deep kiss, Arthur pulled out, his hand guiding George to take his place. She moaned as George filled her, his grip on her hips tight. Arthur stepped back, watching with dark eyes as George began to move, his own hand stroking his shaft.

The room was a blur of sensation, the only sounds their panting breaths and the slap of skin against skin. Y/n felt like she was floating, lost in a sea of pleasure that she never wanted to escape from. This was a night that would change everything, a night that would be etched into their memories forever.

And as George's rhythm grew more frantic, as she felt him getting closer, she knew that she was ready for whatever came next. The world outside their flat had ceased to exist, and all that mattered was the heat between them, the passion that had been unleashed by a simple game of poker.

The climax hit her like a tidal wave, crashing over her body and leaving her trembling. She cried out, her nails digging into George's shoulders as she came, her body shaking with the force of it. And as George followed suit, filling her with his release, she couldn't help but feel a sense of power and belonging she'd never experienced before.

Chris stepped closer, his eyes never leaving hers as he stroked himself. "Your turn," she managed to gasp, her voice hoarse with need. He grinned, a wicked glint in his eye, and she felt a thrill of excitement as George pulled out, making way for Chris to take his place.

Their kiss was explosive, a culmination of all the tension that had been building through the night. She felt Chris's cock nudge against her, and she wrapped her legs around him, pulling him closer. He entered her with a groan, his movements more deliberate, more intense than the others. The sensation was almost too much, and she arched her back, her breasts pressing against his chest.

Their bodies moved in sync, the table rocking beneath them with every thrust. Arthur and George watched, their own desires reflected in their eyes as they stroked themselves, their gazes never leaving the erotic sight of their friend taking charge. It was a moment of pure, unadulterated passion, a moment that would forever change the dynamics of their friendship.

Chris's hands were everywhere, exploring every inch of her exposed skin, sending shivers down her spine. She could feel his need, his desire, and it only served to fuel her own. The room was a cacophony of gasps and moans, the air thick with the scent of sex.

And then, with a final, deep kiss, Chris reached his peak, his body tensing as he came inside her. They held each other for a moment, their breathing ragged, their hearts pounding in unison. It was a silent acknowledgment of the shift in their relationship, a moment of pure, unbridled connection.

As they pulled apart, the room was bathed in the soft glow of the kitchen lights, their bodies slick with sweat and desire. The poker night had turned into something none of them could have anticipated, a night that would be remembered for far more than just the game.

They stood there, panting, their eyes locked. The silence was deafening, filled only with the sound of their heavy breaths and the distant hum of London outside. They'd crossed a line, stepped into a new chapter of their friendship.

Y/n looked around the room, her eyes taking in the sight of her friends, naked and aroused, their friendship forever altered by this night of passion. But as she saw the hunger in their eyes, she knew it was a change she didn't regret. In fact, she was eager to see where this newfound intimacy would lead them.

The game had ended, but the night was far from over. They had each other, and as they moved closer, the whispers of desire grew louder, the kisses deeper. They were no longer just friends playing a game; they were lovers, ready to explore the depths of their desires

*****

Taglist~

@gvf23 @xxkatxgracexx @amz824

#imagines #george clarkey #british youtubers #smut #george clarke fics #arthur tv #arthurtv x reader #chrismd x reader #chrismd #george clarkey x reader

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ruinedsapphic · 5 months ago

Note

Sevika x ambessa where fighting turns into sex 💪😍😍

“GO EASY ON ME, WILL YOU?”

pairings: Sevika x Ambessa Medarda :3 (straight wuh luh wuh)

warnings: Sevika x Ambessa (I have no idea if people hate or like this ship), the ask says it all, fighting, mentions of blood, smut, fingering (s receiving), domxdom turns into forced submission, doomed yuri, all third person view, drinking, bottom/switch sevika + power dom Ambessa :333 I’m gonna cum I swear, intentional lower case so don’t even, not actual plot so… !!THIS IS REALLY LONG IDK WHY!!, it’s not finished.

sevika, the strongest woman in zaun was at the brothel, lord it’s almost like all the time she’s in it. but, she’s only in it to keep her mind off certain things. sevika took a sip from her drink, passing out the cards for the card game she always won in. Almost as if everyone at the table knew she was some sort of cheater at the game, as if she knew all the cards in everyone’s deck for some reason.

just from across, it was ambessa. the mother of mel medarda. ambessa watched the zaunite woman pass the cards around, her gaze flicking down to the mechanical arm and hand. the mechanics of the fingers tossing the cards and shuffling them before the game so easily. she scoffed to herself and downed herself a drink once again. “That woman is going to kill me by the end of this goddamn day.” she then got up.

were all pretty sure ambessa is the tallest woman in the brothel so far, beating sevikas height by 8 inches. though, to ambessa..she definitely had some feelings for the zaunite woman, who wouldn’t?

the brothel continued to roar shouts, music, laughter and all of that from the above. ambessa would be there for like whatever reason but she’s usually around town to try local cuisines.

“hey, girl with the arm.” ambessa said, trying to get the zaunite attention. her hand waving in the air, but when she didn’t actually get the woman’s attention, she got up, walking over to her. then the taller woman of color tapped on the woman sitting in the chair, sevika paused in her tracks, “yeah?”

well..not quite expected. ambessa noticed it was actually sevika herself; the woman who she had to deal with from years before and her eyebrow raised, “come with me.”

“I’m in the middle of a ca—“

“Did I stutter?”

the zaunite stood up with a sigh, she took a sip from her beer before leaving it on the table to get up, heading her way to follow the mother of the famous Mel Medarda. “see you soon,” She called back to her group and followed the woman like a lost puppy.

after a bit of walking around the brothel, they come to a final end and stand in front of each other before ambessa moved in and grabbed sevika by her cloak, her hands swiftly tearing it off. “you know I still remember you, no?” The zaunite woman fully sighed, she pulled her cloak back and covered her mechanical arm. “Almost like every other day you’re here to fight me.”

the only thing ambessa did was give off a smirk, “maybe I’m here to fight?” in which it resulted the zaunite to groan out, “you know I’m tired.” sevika would settle down into a chair, but ambessa didn’t even bother for her to sit, she was NOT giving this poor zaunite a break. “one day i better get a god damn massage, I don’t got all of my adult years to keep kicking asses”

ambessa pushed sevika a bit and snapped at her, “don’t try to change the topic, zaunite.” the taller woman briefly stated, sevika groaning again before pushing her back, “what are you even here for again?”

“Another rematch.”

“i’m tired.”

“another rematch.”

“but I’m- ugh.”

———————————————————————————

not even 30 minutes later the fight stopped, there was still ruthless cursing and yelling, swinging fights, cheers, people avoiding the fight and others cheering. occasionally sevika would dominate the fight first, grabbing the taller woman with both hands and pushing her down on the ground before grabbing her jaw, forcing the woman of color down on the floor to look right at her.

“you don’t learn the first time, no?” sevika asked, her mechanical hand gripping on ambessa’s chin as if demanding for an answer. the woman down on the floor was disheveled, a few cut marks across her lip and her clothes slightly torn, a small contrast from sevika who’s metal arm was completely full of scratches, her nose slightly bleeding but she wiped it off with the back of her hand. no they were NOT playing a cat fight .. “all you do is come around ask for anot—” sevika was briefly paused at ambessa grabbing the mechanical hand and pushing it away from her chin, grabbing the metal hand tightly and getting up, using her height as an advantage before roughly pushing sevika instead. sevika looked up at the woman with a raised eyebrow, “psh…again? seriously?” she scoffed, not wanting to take another fight but who said it was going to be another fight. “…meet me in the back when you’re done with those filthy games of yours. unless you most likely want yourself dead and open in the streets.”

———————————————————————————

“meet me in the back when you’re done with those filthy games of yours.”

sevika listened, maybe the only time she kinda did. she entered the back rooms and opened the door, looking around to find ambessa, walking forward into the room and settling down at the table before ambessa appeared just behind her, the woman pushing sevika down against the table, her front pressing firmly against sevika’s behind.

“..not again.” sevika tried to push herself back up but no!!!! ambessa was definitely not letting it happen. she leaned down to sevika’s ear from behind. the insane body build covering sevika by a lot. they were both muscular and packed but…it was the size difference. “how about a little game of..this? whoever submits first is the loser, yeah?”

Of course, sevika has never bottomed out with any partners especially in the brothel with all the ladies, but would she even handle ambessa? apart of her DEFINITELY said no, but the other half yes.

———————————————————————————

“g-go easy on me! will you?!” sevika squirmed, looking down at ambessa who’s literally eating the zaunite out, her rough hands gripping sevika’s thighs and keeping them firm and still. We definitely knew who the loser was.

ambessa’s tongue swirled around the sensitive nub, her tongue occasionally sliding down to meet her entrance and her fingers parting out her folds, also swarming the arousal from sevika all over the place. the session definitely had gotten sloppy and all messy. sevika face contorted with pleasure, her thighs shaking while TRYING her hardest to push the woman’s mouth off her. It had been orgasm after orgasm. She was never getting a break!! poor sevika :((

“I know..I’m just so, so mean to you..can’t even give you a poor break.”

She bit down on the woman’s inner thighs, making marks that were visible but not enough to inflict pain. sevika made out ragged breaths, tossing her head back on the chair while ambessa was still on her knees, sevika’s arm falling to her side and her other one covering her mouth to restrain her noises. I know damn well she was enjoying that .. her head was still thrown back while muffling out sounds, her throat full display while her adams apple was definitely there..bobbing every time she made out a muffled sound.

“killing me here..” sevika whined out and looked down, her back only arching just slightly, her chest heaving; her v line was literally covered in ambessa’s saliva and love bites. it was a top favorite part of sevika’s body ambessa herself enjoyed. “Killing you? Tsk, keep talking for me, yeah? give me some company while I ruin the fuck out this pussy.”

———————————————————————————

A.N: NO IM NOT FINISHED ACTUALLY BUT GUYS 😭😭💔 I NEED TO POST THIS CAUSE I NEED TO. ILL MAKE ANOTHER SOON BUT ITS 2 AM. SCHLAWG PLEASE CATCH ME A BREAK TOO ??? Caitlyn post soon guys..

#lesbian #sevika x reader #sevika #arcane #sevika arcane #arcane ambessa #ambessa medarda #ambessa league of legends #sevika league of legends #sevika x ambessa #ambessa x sevika #wuh luh wuh #wlw

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meanderingwistera · 1 month ago

Text

Love, Magic and other things gone wrong

Summary - After trying multiple dating apps you give up and try to love yourself. A love potion should help with that. Nothing can go horribly wrong and drag the cute guy next door into it…right?

Pairing - Suguru Geto x Reader

Content - Fluff, smut, oral f receiving, p i v sex, mostly fluff tho, Witchy! Reader, magical accidents, love potions, artist! Geto, he has TATTOOS, pet names

Word count - 9k

A/N - This is my first full fic that I am posting on here from Ao3! If you prefer that format it is here!

Your love life is… horrendous, you are even being nice about it.

The last date you had gone on had told you that he just “wasn’t ready for anything serious”, only to turn around and change his status to in a relationship within two days after that. But he was the latest in the line of terrible dates you had gone on within the past two years.

You had tried almost everything but you had come to one conclusion-

“I am going to end up a lonely cat lady!” You whine and lay your head down on the cafe table. Utahime looks down at you over the rim of her mug. Her brown eyes look a bit amused at your horrible situation.

“I really doubt it,” She says and pats your head, “Men just suck.”

You want to argue but you remember one of your dates saying that “if you just lost some weight you would be so hot”, so you just groan instead of saying yes. Men do suck or maybe just the ones you match with on shitty dating apps are.

“What do I do?” You ask and shift your head to the side so you can look up at your friend.

“To be honest, you just need to be comfortable with yourself. Practice self love first, then good men will find you.” She explains and sips her tea.

“Maybe you are right.” You agree, still feeling defeated. “Do you have a quick fix for my self love?”

She snorts, “Are you asking for a love potion?”

“You said it, not me!” You remark with a laugh and sit up.

Utahime rolls her eyes good naturedly.

“Give me a few days and I will drop it off, but-” Her face turns serious, “only use a small amount. And I would suggest only drinking it when you are alone and infuse it into something so the effects are minimal. Otherwise you could fall in love with your reflection or someone random.”

You readily nod, how hard could that be?

After you take a little bit of that love potion for a week you see results. You feel better and as if a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. When you go out you don’t scrutinize yourself for your weight or how you look. Your deep set insecurities fade into the background as you look at yourself. It feels so good.

Today is a quiet day for you. Saturdays are one of your off days so you designated it as a chill day. No big agenda or anything to do, just basking in that fact that you don’t have to do anything, which is the best kind of day.

You wake up at nine-thirty but lay in bed for a half hour before getting up to make breakfast. The sun shines in through your sliding glass door out to the small balcony. It engulfs the morning in a warm glow as you start the coffee pot. Starting breakfast you crack a few eggs into a pan and turn on the stove.

While the coffee brews and you cook your eggs on a low heat, you pull out your tarot deck for a quick morning reading. You usually work mornings so when you have an opportunity for a morning read you feel giddy. The deck is familiar and comfortable in your hands as you shuffle the cards.

After you feel like they are sufficiently shuffled you pull out three cards and lay them face down. You flip the first card and wince. The tower glares up at you as you feel very uncomfortable at its presence.

So it looks like you will be having a crisis, delightful.

“Okay-” You say to yourself and take a deep breath, “let’s see what is going on.”

You flip over the next card to see the ace of cups. That is significantly better than the tower. A new emotional connection but is that before or after the crisis or is that the crisis? You sigh and already feel yourself overthinking.

The last card is flipped and you feel a bit better about all of this. The sun card shines like a beacon of hope in this reading. A calm after the storm, a peace after a time of crisis. It looks like the crisis will happen first, a new emotional connection will somehow be involved but happiness will come after.

You snap a picture of the reading and send it to the group chat with Utahime, Shoko and Yuki.

______

You

Guess who is going to

have a crisis?

Yuki

Don’t you have a crisis

every other week?

Shoko

Don’t be rude

Utahime

Yeah, it’s every two weeks Yuki

You

I don’t know why I am friends

with you guys

Yuki

Because you love us?

______

You roll your eyes at your friends and go back to your eggs.

The rest of your morning and early afternoon go well. You eat your breakfast, work on some personal projects and lay around watching tv. Occasionally you get a text from the group chat but it is mostly about things unrelated to your upcoming crisis.

You are sitting on your couch at about four o'clock, starting a book that you have been putting off reading, when you realize that you haven’t started on dinner yet. It is a bit early but you can feel hunger start to creep in. Putting a bookmark in your place you close the book and get up.

The cabinets are almost bear except for a lone box of spaghetti noodles. You grab it out of the cabinet and set it on the counter. Looking in the fridge you don’t see any sauce so you may have to settle for garlic butter pasta. You see some chicken that you can put in it.

“Score!”

Grabbing out the chicken you put it next to everything else and get to work on your makeshift dinner. You turn on the stove, put the pan on it and cut the chicken. You season the chicken well before put it on the pan to cook.

You are craving more coffee so you put on another pot. In addition to the water you put in a tablespoon of that love potion just for fun. You don’t plan on seeing anyone today so you want to mess with the dose a bit.

Once you have the coffee on you walk out to water your hoard of plants on your balcony. Most of them had been gifts but your favorite is the lavender plant you had been given as a housewarming gift.

You suspect you will have to replant her soon so she can grow better. She is one of the plants you use the most in your teas and recipes because of lavender’s calming qualities. Utahime also uses lavender in her witch stuff so you are technically her supplier.

The sound of another sliding door breaks you out of your thoughts. To your right the sliding door opens and a man steps out with a pack of cigarettes. Both of you look equally shocked to see each other. Then you remember that you are still in your pajamas.

He looks at you and you look back. Trying to break the awkward silence the man gives you a small wave. You quickly wave back before going back to watering your many plants.

Normally you would not care but this man is different. He and his friend had moved in about a year ago. You had immediately noticed him. Maybe it was the hair, tattoos or gauges; but no matter what it was you were hooked.

He was cleverly dubbed, “Hot neighbor guy” in your circle of friends. You kept them updated on all the small details you had picked up about him. Like that he really likes rock music and that his hands are usually stained with paint.

So now you try not to stare at his broad shoulders that are on full display in his black tank top. His side profile is accentuated by the evening sun behind him. You need to be normal, friendly but not too much-

“Why do you have so many plants?”

You immediately jump out of your skin at his sudden question, then smoothly respond,

“What?”

A blush tints your cheeks as you debate running away into the woods and never returning.

This man has the audacity to lean over the rail towards you with a cigarette between his teeth and repeat his question.

“Why do you have so many plants? I always wondered why you had so many.”

“Oh! Most of them were gifts in high school,” You say and stand up straight after you finish watering your last plant, “I had a phase and now feel obligated to keep them alive.”

He chuckles a bit and lights the cigarette, “I get that, I took in a stray once and now I am stuck living with him.”

“Your roommate?” You ask and he nods.

“He has little to no self preservation so I get to save him from himself.”

You laugh and he smiles, his snake bites becoming more prominent on his lips.

“How did you-” You start to say only to be cut off by the smoke alarm screaming at you.

Your chicken is burning.

Not wasting any time you fling open your door and turn off the burner. After you run to the smoke alarm to try to reset it. Only to find that it is too far up the wall for you to reach. Now you were not short but it is ridiculously high up on your wall.

Your quickly thought out plan B was to beat the alarm with a couch cushion. Whether it was to hopefully dislodge the thing from the wall or fan away the smoke you don’t know but what else can you do? Sadly your brilliant idea doesn’t work so you just beat your wall with a cushion and hope it stops soon.

A knock at your door makes you give up on your valiant attempt at stopping the shrieking alarm. With a sense of defeat you walk to the door. Couch cushion in hand you open the front door to see “Hot neighbor guy” at your door. This is probably his first impression of you, a woman who has too many plants and burns chicken, how great.

“Do you need help?” He asks, because of course he is still nice to you, with genuine concern on his face.

“If you don’t mind!” You say trying to be cheerful as your reputation with this guy lies tattered on the ground between you, “If not I will just wait for it to stop.”

The corners of his lips quirk up at your tone. You move aside to let him in, you are then immediately struck by the fact that you haven’t cleaned up your apartment enough for it to be prepared for someone to come over. But it is far too late as he walks to the alarm.

He reaches up, his shirt riding up, to grab the alarm. Your eyes, attracted by the movement, travel down to see a tiger tattoo on his hip. You don’t look at that and you won’t think about it later either. He pushes a button and the alarm goes blissfully silent. You sigh in relief and he chuckles.

“Well, at least you can take care of plants because your prospects of becoming a handyman are slim.” He says with a grin.

“The only thing holding me back is irritatingly high placed smoke alarms, other than that I would do great.” You say back then turn a bit shy as you continue, “Thank you though, is there anything I can do to repay you?”

“Well now that the smoke is gone I can smell coffee, can I have some?” He asks you and reaches out his hand, “And I am Suguru by the way.”

“Nice to meet you Suguru,” You respond and take his outstretched hand. His palms are bit rough as he shakes your hand and you introduce yourself.

“And I am happy to share my coffee!” You agree with a smile and turn to go back to the kitchen. He follows you and waits by your island. You grab a mug out of the cupboard for him. “Do you like cream or sugar?”

“No, black will be just fine.” He says and sits on one of the stools.

After pouring the coffee you slide the cup over and he takes it gently. His hands are larger than yours and you see faint patches of dried purple paint.

“Let me go put back the cushion.” You say and walk into the living room. With a soft hum you arrange the cushions in their proper place.

Looking back you see that your work is good and begin to make your way to the kitchen. As you enter the kitchen you come to a halt as you look at the coffee pot. You then realize that you put the love potion into the water for the coffee.

Oh no.

Subtly you glance over at Geto who sips the coffee blissfully unaware of your fuck up. He looks fine? There isn’t any change in behavior so far. So you decide to make yourself some coffee and observe instead of doing anything irrational.

You reach up and get another mug only for Suguru to hand it down to you. His chest is almost against your back as he hands it to you. Your breath hitches slightly as he doesn’t move too far from you as you pour yourself coffee. His hands ghost your waist and you are ninety-nine percent sure that it has kicked in.

What the hell do you do?!

“Your really cute like this.” He says and it’s dangerously low. You shiver at the tone of his voice.

“Suguru?” You ask, trying to act nonchalant and not like you are having a crisis.

“I like the way you say my name.” He says and you turn so you can see him. That was a bad move because he puts his hands on the counter behind you, closing you in.

Your breath is short and your heart is pounding in your chest. Suguru’s eyes trail down from your eyes to your slightly parted lips. He isn’t even discreet about it.

Before you can come up with any semblance of a plan to get out of this predicament your brain shuts off.

Suguru leans in and kisses you. It starts off slow and sweet. His mouth moves against yours softly, like he is savoring the taste of you. You wonder what you taste like to him. He tastes like black coffee, you usually don’t like black coffee but you don’t mind it if Suguru is kissing you.

You lean in, chasing his kiss and his tongue enters your mouth. Moaning a bit you feel his head tilt so he can get further. He swallows up your moans greedily.

Suguru pulls back for just a second so he can turn you both around. You are a little confused about what he is doing until he picks you up and sets you on the island. In the heat of the moment you open your legs so he can slot himself between them.

His mouth crashes back into yours quickly after. You run a hand up into his hair, trying to find purchase as he kisses you like a man possessed. Accidentally you tug and he groans into your mouth. His hands grip your hips tightly as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer.

Suguru moves from your mouth to your neck. He nibbles on your neck and you jolt at the sudden sensation. You begin to grind down as he chuckles against your skin. The cold metal of his snake bites turn you on even more as he kisses where he was biting your skin like a peace offering.

His right hand moves from your hips to your tigh and you remember that you should be pushing him away. This isn’t really him, just a signifect of that potion. Still breathing heavily you push him back. He looks a little confused but doesn’t complain about you push him off.

“I- uh- don’t want to go that far yet!” You squeak out, both your hands on his shoulders. “Not that it is bad in any way-”

Suguru blinks a bit before nodding at your words, “Sorry, I was far too forward.”

“No! Your fine, it just me that is the problem.” You inwardly groan as you use that stupid line. “Are you free tomorrow?”

He seems to think about this before nodding.

“I am free about two if you want to go out?” You suggest to him.

He obviously isn’t in his right mind and you don’t want to take advantage of that. You would feel horrible if you caused him pain. Hopefully he will have snapped out of it by the time for your date rolls around or have forgotten this entirely.

Suguru smiles at you and your legs feel weak, “See you at two then.”

With a quick peck to your lips, and him putting his phone number in your phone, Suguru excuses himself from your apartment, leaving you reeling on your kitchen counter.

You sit there for a second absorbing what happened within the last fifteen minutes of your life. Reaching a hand up you feel your lips that Suguru was kissing just a minute ago.

Hoping down off the counter you feel that your legs are still weak from all that. But that doesn’t stop you from getting to your phone and frantically pressing on Utahime’s contact. She will hopefully know how to help you.

The phone rings three times before she picks up.

“Hey!” She says more excited then you are because of your current situation.

“Hey…” You say cautiously and you can practically hear her eyes narrow in suspicion.

“What happened?” Utahime asks you

“So I might have burnt my chicken talking to ‘Hot neighbor guy’,” Utahime snorts at your opening statement, “then he fixed my smoke alarm- which was so hot by the way- anyway as repayment I gave him a cup of coffee- which may have that love potion you gave to me infused in it.”

Dead silence.

“How much did he have?” She asks you slowly.

“Enough to furiously make out with me on my counter for five minutes.” You answer quickly.

Utahime groans, “How much did you put into the coffee?”

“Oh!” You say, understanding what she meant now, “I used about a tablespoon.”

“Okay so it should wear off in about a day.” Utahime says with relief.

You check the clock and it is just a bit before five. So you just have to wait until five for it to wear off. Your heart deflates a little at the idea of not going on a real date with him but love potions are cheating in the war that is modern dating.

“That’s good.” You answer, “Also do you think my black crop top looks better with my flare jeans or that cute slit skirt with stars on it?”

You hear a hum on the other end of the line as she thinks, “Skirt would be better since it is getting warmer but I would pair it with a sweater.”

“I agree, also tell Shoko Hi for me!”

“Good luck.” She says and you hang up the call.

Now you just need to survive this date and hopefully the potion will have worn off by then. As long as you play it cool you will past this crisis.

You can totally do that.

Suguru has always been a very calm and controlled person. He prides himself on his restraint and his patience. So he doesn’t understand what just happened. Not that he didn’t want to- but where did that come from?

Suguru had noticed you as soon as they moved in. You had passed by him in the hallway when he was moving his stuff in. He had been so distracted by you and your smile and bright eyes. Satoru laughed his ass off when he almost dropped the box he was carrying in because he was staring at you.

His eyes would always search the hallway for you when he would go to his classes or the studio where he painted most of the time. You would always just be entering your apartment as he would make his way up the stairs. He would always just miss you so when he managed to see you on your balcony he had internally cheered.

And when your smoke alarm went off he practically sprinted across the apartment, out his door and to yours to help you. Satoru had laughed at his mad dash but Suguru didn’t care. He found it endearing that you even offered him a chance to help you.

But after that cup of coffee he felt more desperate for you. Like there was a burning feeling under his skin and the only thing that could help was your touch. His overwhelming need for you and your attention seemed to override all his critical thinking.

Suguru debates pulling his own hair out at the fact he was so close to fucking you on your counter and you didn’t seem confident in pushing him off of you. You probably think he is some fuck-boy trying to get into your pants and he is really ashamed of that.

Slowly he opens the apartment door to an expectant Satoru. He sits on the couch with an amused expression. Debating whether or not to avoid this conversation altogether Suguru walks over to the coffee table where his pack of cigarettes are.

“Sooo” Satoru says with a grin, “when is the wedding?”

Suguru glares at him hard.

Satoru puts his hands up in a placating gesture, “Just asking! She did let you help her right?”

“Yep.” Suguru says, hoping that he doesn’t delve deeper.

But it is never that easy with Satoru.

“And?” He pushes leaning forward in his seat like he is watching a drama.

“I made out with her on her kitchen counter.”

There is a long pause as they stare at each other.

“And you came back, why?”

“I didn’t want her to think that I just want to fuck her.” Suguru says and puts his cigarettes in his pocket, “Most of us give the people we are pursuing a bit more space then you do.”

Satoru scoffs at his comment.

“I give Nanamin space! He seems to even be enjoying my company right now.” He defends himself.

“If that helps you sleep better at night.” Suguru says with a shrug.

“Don’t change the subject!” Satoru squawks.

Suguru sighes and sits down. His best friend’s interrogation will not end soon so he might as well make himself comfortable.

The morning of the date you can’t really settle down.

During the hours of six through nine you wake up five times. Eventually you give up and check your phone. Then for a while you check your phone obsessively for a text saying that the date is off or he is “sick”. But one never comes. Which might be more concerning now that you think about it.

You clean your whole apartment and do all the laundry you have put off for a week. The only thing you haven’t done is wash your windows, which you might do in a minute. Looking at the time you throw the washing the windows idea out the metaphorical window.

The clock reads one and you need to get ready.

Normally when you get ready for a date you feel like you are dressing for a wake. But as you get showered and dressed you feel an underlying giddiness. You listen to more upbeat music as you do your hair and makeup. It is such a 180 turn from usual.

It is probably because it’s Suguru. He seems to be a good person from what you know so far, plus he is an excellent kisser. You try to remind yourself that it might not really be him but you can let yourself just enjoy today and wear it takes you can’t you?

Humming to the random pop song you have on in the background you admire the outfit Utahime suggested and you like it. You are not fully covered up but still warm because of the tights and sweater. It is a tasteful mix of the two and perfect for a first date.

You leave your bathroom and make your way to the living room to put on a pair of small heels. Since he didn’t cancel you decided to take him to a cat cafe downtown, since you don’t have a car you will have to walk so you want to not have your feet hurt. The kitten heels complement both the black and silver of your skirt nicely.

Right on time at exactly two a knock comes at your front door. All the nervous energy hits you as you walk to the door. You take a deep breath before opening your door to see Suguru standing there.

He looks good. A loose band tee hangs off his frame along with an oversized jacket. But the thing that draws your attention is the skinniest skinny jeans known to man that he is wearing. You have seen men wear skinny jeans but not that tight. And you might be very into that.

His long black hair is tied up and away from his face and you can see an undercut. You really want to run your hand over it.

“Hi.” He greets you with a small smile.

“Hi.” You respond but it comes out a bit shyer than you want it too.

“Are you ready?” He asks you and leans an arm on the frame of your door.

“Yes, I just need to grab my purse.” You say a giddiness to your voice.

For a second you leave him there and disappear into your apartment to get your purse. When you return he has moved away from your door and is rocking back and forth on his feet. He immediately stops as you lock and close your door behind you.

“So where are we going?” Suguru asks you as you walk away from your door.

“It is a surprise!” You say and press the down button to summon the elevator.

“How mysterious.” He says with a grin as you enter the elevator.

“I have to keep you interested somehow.” You match his grin as you hit the ground floor button.

“My interest is peaked.”

In the few short minutes that you are leading him downtown Suguru decides he really likes walking behind you. There is something about how you carry yourself that makes him think that he would follow you anywhere. You could lead him into hell and he probably wouldn’t notice it.

Satoru would call him a dog on a leash but he doesn’t mind if it is you.

As the crowd gets more dense as you enter Shinjuku you reach back and grab his hand, “I don’t want to lose you in the crowd.”

“I think I could be easily found because of my height, you on the other hand are more at risk.” Suguru teases you and squeezes your hand.

“I could just leave you.” You grumble as he walks faster to catch up with you. And the faint blush on your cheeks doesn’t escape his vision.

The two of you walk hand in hand for a while before you pull him into a cafe. It is smaller than the other stores and restaurants on the streets of Shinjuku. The light brown and cream colored walls give the cafe a cozy feel. But the main attraction is the hoard of cats that are walking around.

He can feel your eyes looking at him, trying to see if he likes it.

“This is a cute place,” Suguru says and looks down at you, “I have never been here before.”

Your eyes light up and his heart stutters in his chest. Suguru feels like he could live on just that expression of yours. He has never been a romantic before, despite his inclination towards art, but you bring out a new side to him.

Suguru wants to paint this expression so he can look at it forever.

His trance is broken as a woman walks up to you. Her blonde hair is tied up and her eyes look at the both of you as if she is trying to decipher what is going on with the both of you. He sees you get nervous as she walks closer.

“Hi Yuki…” You say as if you are about to be scolded.

The woman, Yuki, raises an eyebrow, “Who is this?”

“This is Suguru,” You pause before continuing, “he lives next door.”

Yuki’s eyes light up with understanding and a smile spreads on her face.

“Suguru- I have heard a lot about you.” She says and reaches out a hand for him to shake.

Suguru, now self conscious, takes her hand and shakes it. What have you told her? Does she not approve of him? Is he making a good first impression?

“All good I hope.” He replies and tries to calm his nerves.

“Very good.” Yuki assures him, “You have the pick of any table and can I get you any drinks?”

“The strawberry boba sounds good, I haven’t gotten a chance to try it.” You say with a smile and squeeze his hand.

“I will just have a coffee.” Suguru says.

“Okay, I will have that out shortly.” She says and walks off.

As she leaves you relax and he looks at you in concern as you sigh.

“I forgot to tell her about our date,” You admit as you pull him by the hand to a corner table, “there will most likely be anarchy in our group chat soon.”

He snorts and sits down in the chair near the window. Suguru mourns the loss of not being able to hold your hand. You sit down across from him and a loud ping comes from your phone. The first ping is followed by many more before you eventually put your phone on vibrate.

“Good luck with your friend group, my best friend already interrogated me yesterday.” Suguru says with a grin.

“I will need it, Shoko will have my head for this.” You admit with a sigh.

“Shoko Ieri?” Suguru asks in disbelief.

“Yeah! Do you know her?” You ask.

“We went to high school together and we are in some of the same English classes now.” He says.

“Wow! I never knew how close we were to each other without ever meeting.” You hum as a small tabby waltzes up to you. Suguru watches you scoop the cat up into your arms and pet its head. It purrs at your touch and he feels a little jealous of the cat.

Conversation flows effortlessly between you two as you play with the cats and drink your drinks. The tabby stays close to you, it demands your attention and will flick its tail when you are trying to do other things. You indulge the little thing every time.

At one point you finish your drink and get up, “I am going to get another tea, do you want more coffee?”

“That would be great.” He says and you take the cups off the table and walk over to the counter where Yuki is standing looking bored.

He watches you talk to her when a set of claws enter his calf. Looking down the small tabby cat has it’s claws in his leg with narrowed eyes.

“She may indulge you but I won’t.” He says defiantly.

The cat sinks its claws in deeper.

“I don’t negotiate with terrorists.”

Suguru feels the claws puncture his skin.

“Fine!” He says picks up the tabby and scratches its little head.

It begins to purr and Suguru just sighs, resigned to being a servant for this cat until you both leave.

You come back to see Suguru holding the little tabby cat. It is the cutest thing you have ever seen. You set his coffee down on the table in front of him as he pets the cat’s head.

“It looks like Obi likes you.” You say and sit down in your seat.

“Obi is a small terror.” Suguru grumbles but continues to pet the cat.

“He takes after his mother,” You say and scratch under Obi’s chin. “Queenie fits her namesake.”

“Obi is a cute name for him,” Suguru says, “it doesn’t fit his personality.”

You laugh and take a sip of your drink, “His full name is Obadiah.”

“Obadiah?” Suguru asks in disbelief, “that’s his full name?”

“Yuki named him.” You smile at him as he tries to think of how Yuki thought that the name Obadiah would be a good name.

“I think I would be a terror if I was named Obadiah.” Suguru says and scratches the cat behind the ears, “I have misjudged you, I am sorry.”

More time passes and the two of you trade off so Suguru can drink his now lukewarm coffee. Obi is pleased to be in your arms and you hold him like a baby as he purrs. You had always wanted to adopt him since you saw him but raising him by yourself seemed like a daunting task so you talked yourself out of it.

A camera flash brings you out of your thoughts. Suguru has his phone up and is taking a picture of you and Obi. You blink in confusion at him.

“Why did you take a picture?” You ask him curiously.

He puts his phone down and clears his throat nervously, “I wanted to paint the two of you.”

Your jaw drops as he rubs the back of his neck, looking away from you. Your heart is in overdrive as you try to process that he wants to paint a picture of you. Taking a picture is one thing but painting someone takes a lot of work and time.

“I don’t have to if it makes you uncomfortable!” He says quickly trying to make it better.

“No!” You say but it comes out a bit high pitched as you blush, “I- I don’t mind.”

Suguru relaxes and a grin spreads on his face, “I am happy that you are willing to be my muse.”

God help your poor heart.

After two hours you leave the cafe. Yuki waves as you leave and you know that you are in for it later. But you feel so love struck that you don’t care.

The walk back to your apartment building is filled with laughter and smiles. Suguru holds your hand all the way there and you let him lead you to the elevators. He runs a thumb over your knuckles and you feel like a dumb teenager on her first date.

When you make it to your door you hesitate. You don’t want this to end. Even if this is temporary and he may not want you later you want to bask in it now. You try to think of how to articulate it. And Suguru frowns as he looks at his phone.

“My roommate kicked me out for the night,” Suguru starts, “could I crash at your place? I will buy us dinner as payment.”

Fate seems to be in your favor today.

“Yeah, I don’t mind.” You say and let go of his hand to open the door. The door swings open and you lead him inside.

You settle on the couch as the two of you continue to talk. Suguru orders Chinese takeout and you talk about anything and everything. He tells you about his art classes and you tell him about your classes in kind.

“-I actually have a big project coming up soon so I will have to focus on that since it is a major portion of the grade.” He explains his hands moving around as he does.

“What do you have to do?” You ask him.

“So what the professor is asking for is a watercolor piece. I prefer oil based paints but it will be good to step out of my comfort zone for it.” Suguru tells you and you can tell that he is passionate about this by the way his eyes look as he talks.

“You seem really passionate about this.” You observe and he stops briefly.

“Sorry- I was rambling-” He starts to apologize but you grab his hand.

“Don’t apologize,” You smile at him reassuringly, “I like hearing you talk.”

It is quiet as the two of you stare at each other. The tension thick in the room as you trace his face with your eyes. His hair falls into his face from the beat bun it was in. You lean closer and-

The doorbell rings, breaking up the moment.

Internally groaning you get up from the couch, “I will get the food.”

“Thanks.” He responds a little heavy as you walk to the door.

The poor delivery man doesn’t deserve the irritated expression you give him but he looks too high to care. You take the food from his outstretched hands and thank him. He just tips his hat at you and teeters off down the hall. Hopefully he gets home safely.

You set the bag on the coffee table and grab some chopsticks from the kitchen. Suguru is dividing the food on the table. You hand him a set of chopsticks and sit down to eat.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” You ask him as you open your container of food.

“Yeah,” He says, “What are you in the mood for?”

“A romcom would be good but I am okay with anything.” You admit and grab the last dumpling.

“Okay- what would you recommend?” Suguru asks you with a smile.

“So if you want a high school setting I would suggest 10 things I hate about you, if not how to lose a guy in ten days is a classic.” You explain and hand him the remote.

He sets down his food and takes it with a hum of amusement, “Which one do you recommend?”

You take a minute to weigh it out. 10 things I hate about you was always a favorite when you were younger, and Heath Ledger isn’t too bad looking. How to lose a guy in ten days is the funnier of the two but you think your heart is swaying towards 10 things I hate about you.

“I would recommend 10 things I hate about you.” You say and He turns on the TV.

The movie starts and you feel content to watch Suguru’s reactions to the movie. Before he had put it on he had told you that he had never seen the movie. Which was a crime. So now he gets to be subjected to this movie for the next hour and a half.

“And I thought I had restrictive parents.” He says with a cringe.

“It really makes you think huh?” You ask with a laugh.

“I mean, if I had daughters I would be protective but not like that.” Suguru explains to you and puts his empty take out container on the table.

“I could see you with daughters,” You admit, “You would make a good dad.”

Suguru blinks down at you in surprise. You realize what you said and go to fix the situation but he beats you to speaking.

“You think so?”

“Yeah.”

Over the course of the movie your legs end up slung over Suguru’s lap. He runs his hand over your right leg, but only to your knee then stops. It is driving you a little insane at this point. If it wasn’t too forward you would grab his hand and put it under your skirt.

“He so deserved that.” Suguru says with approval as Joey gets punched in the face.

“He is such an asshole.” You agree with him, trying to not sound like you are worked up about his hand.

The main characters get together, the credits roll and the movie ends.

His hand is still there and you can’t stand it anymore. You reach your hand over to his and grab it. He startles but lets you guide his hand up your leg to your mid thigh. Suguru looks at you, his eyes darker than before. You give him a challenging look, daring him to touch you like he means it.

“Are you sure about this angel?” He asks you, his voice rough and breathy.

“More than any of the decisions I have made for the past month.” You respond.

Suguru chuckles and moves so his right knee is in between your legs, he hovers over you on the couch. You look up at him as he scans your face with his eyes as if he is trying to memorize what your face looks like in this exact moment. His lilac eyes lock on yours and you feel your heart rate pick up.

When he kisses you it is so slow, he takes his time as his hands move up your thighs. It is such a switch from yesterday where he did waste anytime and kissed you so hard you almost couldn’t breathe. You are sure that he wants to turn it around on, to make you need him just as bad. And he is definitely succeeding.

Your body feels so hot and he is barely touching you. It is maddening. His snake bites are cold against your lips and that only makes you want more. You run a hand up into his hair, pulling him down to kiss you deeper. His fingers ghost under your skirt and you gasp into his mouth.

“So needy angel.” He purrs as he pulls back to look down at you.

“I-” You begin and clench your thighs, “I need you so bad baby.”

That seems to be Suguru’s breaking point because he picks you up bridal style. You yelp in surprise at his sudden silence and him picking you up. Most of the men you have slept with hadn’t even tried to pick you when you hooked up. You can’t help the heat that curls in your core as he makes his way to your bedroom.

He lays you down gently with your head on your pillow. Suguru climbs onto the bed and parts your thighs. His rough hands pull down your skirt and tights, leaving you in only your underwear. He practically moans at the lacey lilac pair of panties you have on.

You grin at him and pull up your shirt to reveal a matching bra. It was pure coincidence that you had a set that was the color of his eyes. Even though you had not expected to hook up with Suguru, you thought that you would wear them just in case.

He matches your grin and hooks a finger under the elastic band, “All of this just for me?”

“Who else would it be for?” You ask him with an eyebrow raised, “I am not easy-”

You are cut off as he lowers himself between your thighs and licks your pussy through your panties.

“You were saying?” He says innocently as if he doesn’t have his head resting on your inner thighs.

“I am not- mhh!” You try again but he bites your inner thigh causing you to shiver.

“Hmmm?” Suguru hums in question as he pulls down your panties so he can see how wet you are already. “You seem to be having a hard time speaking angel, why don’t we let your pussy speak instead?”

You barely nod before two fingers are pumping in and out of your hole. It feels so good, his fingers are long enough to reach the spots you never can when you do this. He is knuckle deep in your pussy and you feel like you might cum soon.

“Fuck- mhh- I’m gonna cum-” You moan out as his fingers find your g-spot.

“I want you to come on my tongue first before I make you come again on my dick.” He says and removes his fingers.

A long drawn out whine comes out of your throat at the loss of something filling you. You try to rub your thighs together to make some friction but his hands hold your thighs apart. He wastes no time in eating you out.

Suguru knows what he is doing, you can tell because you can barely think straight. His tongue swirls around your clit and his fingers re-enter your hole. You have lost almost all control and are just a moaning mess.

“Your so beautiful like this- hah- so desperate for me.”

You grind down on his face as you get closer to the edge. Suguru hums happily as he gets you so close to an orgasm, the sound sends a shiver down your body. The heat that was rising in your core reaches a fever pitch as you cum.

As you bask in the afterglow of your orgasm he takes off his shirt and you see the tiger tattoo. He sees you eyeing it and smirks.

“See something you like pretty?” He asks as he continues to get undressed.

You nod, still high on your orgasm. If you didn’t have some restraint you might put your lips to it. He shivers under your touch,

“Fuck-” Suguru curses and you realize you said that out loud.

His voice breaks you out of the trance you are in and you get up to touch him. You run your hands over toned muscle and ink. The tiger tattoo isn’t his only one, he has a dragon on his back and a few smaller ones scattered along his forearms.

You push him back so he is laying down on the bed. He doesn’t stop you when you take all his clothes off. You marvel at his dick. It is thick and already dripping precum as you stare. But you don’t want to rush this, you have been thinking of this for two months so you want to savour this.

The kiss you press to his lips is soft and quick. You move on to his neck. A small possessive part of you wants you to give him very visible hickies. You want the woman three doors down who looks at him in the hall ways to see the bites you leave know that he is taken.

She can go back to her boring husband because this man is yours.

You try to push the thought out of your mind but you are already biting his neck. It brings you glee to know that these will last. Even if he doesn’t want you in the morning, you will have proof that you were there for a while. He groans as you lick and nibble the spot where you bit him.

It was hot, the push and pull of this new dynamic. You had never taken a chance on being more dominant or possessive with your past partners because you didn’t want to scare them off. But Suguru was different, he let you have free rein until he felt like taking over.

You can get on top of him and his hands rest on your hips. It takes a minute for you to adjust your position and sink down on his cock. You hiss slightly at the stretch as his rough hands guide you down.

“You're bigger than I imagined!” You say as you take all of him in.

This seems to pique his interest, “You thought about this?”

“Yeah-” You admit as he runs his hands over your torso. “Since I saw you for the first time I wondered-”

You are cut off as Suguru switches the position so you are under him.

“What are you-?”

What you were going to say is cut off by a whine as he begins to move. His thrusts are a bit wilder than you had expected. His dick hits all those spots inside you that make your legs feel like jelly. You wrap your arms around his shoulders to find something to ground you.

“I- hah- I have wanted this for so long.” Suguru admits in your ear, “Do you know how hard it was to not fuck you on your counter yesterday? How hard it was to not throw you over my shoulder and drag you to your bed earlier when I saw you?”

His words go straight to your core. You moan as he sucks on your neck. His confession makes your brain short circuit. It seems so out of the question that he would be into you. For a year you had talked yourself out of talking to him because you thought he didn’t want you.

“I would have let you-!” You answer his rhetorical questions.

That makes him pick up his pace and groan into your neck. You have a grip on his back as his dick hits your g-spot over and over and over again. You know that there are scratches left by your nails on his back.Your legs are trembling as your impending orgasm is about to hit.

“Can- fuck- can I cum inside?” Suguru asks you.

“Please-!” You whine out as you bury your face in his neck.

“Don’t hide from me angel- I want to see you.” He says and stares at you with nothing short of awe as you pull your head back to look him in the eyes. “Just like that, good girl-”

You can’t tell what makes you cum, his words or his repeated hitting of your g-spot but the coil in your stomach snaps and you feel so good. Suguru keeps going, fucking you through your orgasm as your legs tremble around him. You are on cloud nine as his hips stutter and he cums in you.

For a minute you two just breathe. The only sound in the room is your heart beat and laboured breathing. Suguru recovers first. He gets off you to get a towel to clean up and some water. You are sitting up when he gets back and you clean up.

“Stealing my clothes already?” He asks with a laugh as you pull on his band t-shirt.

“It smells like you.” You say with a shrug and crawl into bed with him.

“Do I smell good?” He asks with an eyebrow raised.

“Yeah,” You cuddle up to him. “Like smoke with hints of lavender.”

“I guess I can’t change my shampoo then.” He says and rests his head on top of yours.

“Otherwise we might have a problem.” You say with a sleepy giggle.

“How scary angel.”

You don’t respond because you feel your eyes shut and sleep drags you under its waves.

When you wake up Suguru isn’t beside you. You look over at the side of bed he was sleeping on to see it empty. Sitting up abruptly you look around the room for any sign of him but his jeans aren’t on your floor anymore.

You scramble out of bed.

Did the potion somehow last longer than intended and it is just now wearing off?

The door to your room is open as you rush out of it. But you relax as you see Suguru standing on your balcony. He is visibly arguing with someone and has a cigarette in his hands which he is pointing at the person in question.

You walk to the sliding glass door.

“-you should have given me prior warning asshole!” Suguru says and lights up the cigarette.

Opening the door he blinks over at you.

“Suguru?” You ask and slip out onto the balcony.

“‘morning angel.” He says and wraps an arm around your waist pulling you closer to him.

You relax into his side and look over at the man on the balcony next to yours. He is tall with wild white hair and blue eyes. His eyes are bright and his smile is wide as he looks at you.

“Oh!” You say as you remember who this is, “You must be Suguru’s roommate!”

“The one and only!” He responds cheerfully.

“Satoru Gojo.” He introduces himself and stretches out a hand for you to shake.

You introduce yourself and shake his hand with a smile, “Nice to meet you Gojo.”

“Well-” Gojo says with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “I have to go check on my study buddy, have fun!”

Suguru just rolls his eyes as Gojo walks back into his apartment. You give him a little wave as he disappears. After he is gone you turn to Suguru who shakes his head at his friend.

“That poor TA, he will never hear the end of this.” Suguru says more to the air than you.

He catches your confused look and explains, “Satoru has been trying to get into the pants of our English classes TA for months now, poor guy must have finally agreed so Satoru kicked me out.”

“At least it was good for you that I let you stay over.” You say with a grin.

“You are very generous.” He responds, matching your grin.

“I do expect some repayment,” You tease, “people can’t think that I am a pushover.”

Suguru puts out his cigarette.

“Oh?” He asks and turns toward you, “and what may that be?”

You hum, pretending to think about it.

“Breakfast would be nice…” You suggest trailing off as you turn to walk back into your apartment, his hand in yours. “Unless you have a better idea?”

“I have many ideas.”

#blue’s fics <3 #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #geto suguru #jjk x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #chubby reader

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awearywritersworld · 1 year ago

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i was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend

sukuna x reader summary: you persuade sukuna to play go fish. the two of you have a small disagreement (he really can't stay mad at you). he confides in you about his past as a sorcerer. w/c: 3.4k tags/warnings: the teeniest bit of angst. mostly fluff. banter. cursing. aged up!yuuji. slight yuuji x reader. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. no manga spoilers. a/n: the first section could be read as a brief(ish) stand alone. and for context, the world's shortest frankenstein synopsis: victor frankenstein brings a creature to life using dead body parts and thrusts him into a world he doesn't understand, then promptly abandons him and wishes him dead. alone and regarded as repulsive by every human he comes across, the creature begs frankenstein to create a wife for him too. when frankenstein refuses, the creature is further driven to hatred and violence. series masterlist // masterlist

"we should play a card game!" you exclaim as if you've just had the world's greatest idea.

"i'll pass."

sukuna sounds listless, like it's quite possibly the worst proposition he's ever heard.

"why's that? scared i'll beat you?"

"i'm opposed to mind numbing boredom, more like."

"you really need to expand your horizons," you suggest, making your way over to where you keep your playing cards. "all you do is read and brood."

"it's gotten me this far."

you don't respond, too busy rifling through your bookshelf. just as you spot your cards, a book catches your eye and you pull it from its place.

making your way back over to him, you drop it in his lap. "since you found jane eyre so insufferable, here's one you might actually like."

he surveys the cover, which reads: frankenstein or the modern prometheus

you take a seat across from him at the kotatsu table and shuffle the deck, while sukuna flips through the pages with new found intrigue.

"what's it about?"

"the dangers of playing god. should be right up your alley."

"your subtly never ceases to amaze."

"i'm just kidding." you laugh. "there's a lot more to it than that— revenge, loneliness, personal responsibility..."

he turns the book over. "it's written by a woman?"

you raise your eyebrows at him. "what, you don't think women have enough depth to write about those kinds of topics?"

"no, it was just an observation," he says off handedly. "you are evidence enough to the contrary."

he doesn't say it as a compliment, more so as a statement of fact. you hope your astonishment isn't written all over your face.

clearing your throat, you begin dealing while explaining the rules to him.

he takes up his cards and seems to understand the game after only a turn or two, but you're narrowing your eyes at him soon thereafter.

"go fish," he says for the fourth time in a row.

your gaze shifts down to his hands. there's just no way. "show me your cards."

"wouldn't that defeat the purpose of this stupid game?"

"not if you're cheating, now let me see."

"no."

you reach across the table, hoping to snatch them from his grasp, but he just holds them out of your reach.

swiftly rising to your feet, you launch yourself at him in a sad attempt to catch him off guard.

with only one arm extended, he easily fends off your attack. "do you actually think you have a chance here?"

you sink to your knees in defeat and sit with your legs folded beneath you. "not really, but i have to know if you'd stoop this low."

"that so? had you believed me to be above cheating?"

you gasp. "so you admit it?"

"i told you i didn't want to play," he deadpans.

"that doesn't mean you had to cheat! now we have to start over!"

he carelessly tosses the cards onto the table. "i don't think so."

"please?" you lean forward, jutting out your bottom lip.

he just stares at you with an air of disinterest.

sukuna can be so haughty sometimes, and frankly, it drives you a little crazy. you'd give anything to wipe that look from his face— to prove that he doesn't find this as miserable as he lets on.

leaning forward even further, your hands meet with the carpet to support your shifting weight. now he's watching intently as your face approaches his, your eyes flicking down to his lips.

unbeknownst to you, sukuna's breath catches in his throat once he sees your gaze shift, though his mind struggles to catch up. it happens so fast that he hardly registers the quick peck you place on his lips (though maybe it's not the speed of the occurrence, so much as his shock).

"please?" you repeat.

he looks off to the side and stays silent, though his demeanor is indicative of some heated internal debate.

sukuna can't let you win, not that easily. you'd be under the impression that you actually have power over him! and for what? some measly kiss?

no, he simply will not allow that. "i already told you—"

grabbing him by the chin, you cut off his words with another kiss, but this time it lasts a few beats longer. your lips don't move against his, they just linger there in a way that that makes him question whether all of the oxygen has vanished from the room.

when you pull away, you're looking at him expectantly with the same pout still playing on your lips.

"fine!" he barks, grumbling something afterwards that sounds a lot like "evil little minx."

"human earthworm two is definitely still the best."

you're walking home with yuuji after a late night showing of the newest movie in the series.

"no way," you contend. "this one was even better."

he gawks at you. "in no world is the seventh film in an anthology the best! you're crazy—"

sukuna's mouth appears, always eager for a chance to undermine his vessel. "she's right, brat."

yuuji can't believe his ears. "what?! you haven't even seen it!"

"i don't know," you interject slyly. "i'm willing to look past that. it really seems like he knows what he's talking about."

"you mean the guy who's existence predates cinema?" yuuji asks, his eyebrows furrowing as a thought occurs to him. "what'd you do all day anyway? watch plays?"

"..among other things, yes." sukuna answers.

"if you look at it logically," you reason, "we probably wouldn't have movies without theater, so we should definitely consider him an expert in this case."

"oh please, baby. when the topic is ancient civilization or being a homicidal maniac, i'll be sure to solicit his opinion then."

"i resent that," sukuna declares, his conviction forcing a giggle from your lips.

"why?" you question. "was it the part where he called you old as shit, or the part where he called you a murderous lunatic?"

yuuji brings a hand to his mouth to stifle a snort, but you're freely laughing now.

sukuna scoffs indignantly and bites back a comment about how partial you seem to be toward said lunatic. "and to think i defended your opinion."

his response has you clutching at your sides and struggling to see through teary eyes.

but perhaps karma is real, because not a moment later, you step off the curb in a way that sends a sharp sensation through your leg.

you gasp in pain and brace yourself for the impact of falling to the concrete, but it never comes. instead, you're left with fingers clamped tightly around your wrist and a strange sense of deja vu.

you turn your head just before the dark lines fade from yuuji's arm completely.

"tch, watch where you're going idiot," sukuna scolds, his mouth disappearing as soon as he finishes speaking.

"are you okay?" yuuji asks worriedly.

"absolutely," you claim, but when you try to put weight on your left foot, you let out a hiss.

yuuji's hands find your waist, hoping to keep you steady. before you know it, he's crouching in front of you with his back turned and beckoning you to wrap your arms around his neck.

once you do, he hooks his arms under your thighs and easily stands up. "this okay? you comfy?"

"yeah. i can't believe i just did that." you hide your face in the space where his neck meets his shoulder. "thanks, yu."

when you get home, yuuji sets you up on the couch with icepacks, heating pads, three different drinks, two different books, and the tv remote.

he still asks if you have everything you need several times, then kisses you sweetly before heading to bed.

around thirty minutes later, sukuna's leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed.

"hey," you greet. your eyes never leave the tv, as you're privy to the slight tension between the both of you.

he skips the evening's pleasantries. "i could heal it, you know."

you finally turn to face him. "really?"

"of course." he rolls his eyes. "some of us can actually use reverse cursed technique."

"and you've just let me hobble around the past hour anyway?"

he shrugs. "you pissed me off."

you blink at him a few times, rubbing at your temples. "well what about now?"

"i don't know," he begins, making his way over to you. he towers over where you're seated on the couch, so you have to crane your neck to look up at him. "just doesn't really seem like something a homicidal maniac would do, but maybe if he were to receive an apology..."

you cover your face with your hands and groan. "i didn't say that. this is really something you should take up with yuuji—"

"i don't make a habit of conversing with the brat, so if that's the way you're going to be..." he turns on his heel and starts for the bedroom, but you grab onto his sleeve just before he's out of reach.

"wait. please don't go."

just like that, your words have his resolve crumbling and any of his lingering irritation ebbs away. he urges himself to stay strong though, especially after the go fish debacle.

when he doesn't speak, you let out a breath.

"i'm sorry, sukuna." he can tell right away that you're being entirely sincere. "i would never purposefully hurt your feelings. i only meant to tease you, but i can see how i was being mean."

are those... are those tears swimming in your eyes? are you in that much pain, or did he just make you feel that badly? in any case, he endeavors to remedy it immediately.

moving around the couch until he's in front of you, sukuna kneels between your legs. he grabs your left foot gingerly, situating it on his thigh before hovering his hand over top of it.

he sighs. "i don't care if you tease me and you weren't being.. mean." the words sounds so juvenile to him.

you weren't necessarily wrong either, goes unsaid.

well, he'd like to consider himself a little more sophisticated than 'maniac' would imply, but that's beside the point.

"then why are you upset with me?"

his jaw flexes as he tries to find the right words. "i would prefer you do that when it's just.. us."

"oh." realization dawns on you, as does another heap of guilt. you know he despises being trapped in yuuji's body, and you completely failed to consider how ganging up on him might make him feel. "i'm... fuck. i'm really sorry, sukuna—"

"stop apologizing," he urges you in a low voice. it's partly because what he just said makes him feel pathetic, but more than that, it's because the look of self reproach you're wearing is akin to a thousand needles in his chest. "it's fine."

he can't believe you're sitting there with so much remorse over a man like him because you... what? wounded his pride?

he probably deserves it anyway.

why should you give a shit when he's done things a thousand times worse, a million different times?

oh, right. because you care about him.

you can't see the cursed energy at play, but you can tell it's working as your pain begins to dissipate.

once he's finished, he carefully moves your foot to the floor and looks up at you. it's not unlike the way a person might gaze at one of the wonders of the world, like they're lucky to be there in the first place.

with the intensity of his gaze, it feels like he can see right into your head— read your every thought and pick apart every emotion. has anyone ever looked at you like that before? you're having a hard time remembering. you're having a hard time thinking of anything at all, really.

so it goes without saying that you don't think about it when you lean forward and kiss him.

it's not at all like when you were trying to convince him to play cards. no, this isn't light hearted or frivolous.

and it's not like the other two kisses you've shared either. it isn't heated or desperate, nor does it leave you gasping for air.

it's tender. it's so fucking tender, in fact, that sukuna wonders whether he's going to crumble beneath your touch.

he grips the area just above your knees, as if needing something to tether himself to before he withers away completely.

his lips move with yours in a way that's slow and careful.

your hands are on either side of his face, ghosting over his skin as a testament to your hesitance— like you're not certain if this is something he would want.

he wonders how in the world you could ever second guess yourself.

when you pull back, you examine his face for a moment before a small, shy smile tugs at your lips and you murmur, "thanks 'kuna."

he just peers at you wordlessly and it makes you nervous, so you attempt to fill the silence. "it feels so much better. a-and i'm sorry again abo—"

his hand finds the back of your neck, pulling your lips against his for a moment longer. "don't mention it, angel."

ever since you gave sukuna your copy of frankenstein, he's spent a decent portion of your nights together reading, his brows drawn together in concentration.

upon finishing, he stares at the page after taking in the final line: "he was soon borne away by the waves and lost in darkness and distance."

he's deathly quiet and wearing some unreadable expression. his eyes seem far off.

you leave him be for a little while, as it's clear he's lost in thought, but eventually you grow a bit concerned. it's been nearly half an hour since he last moved.

"sukuna?"

he turns to you. "why did you think i would enjoy this particular book?"

you consider his question carefully, his mood evoking your own seriousness. "it's... elegant and tragic. i suppose i appreciate the moral grayness of it. why do you ask?"

"no reason."

"did you enjoy it?"

"yes."

"why?"

he ignores your question. "frankenstein— do you like his character?"

you can't help but feel like you're answering some sort of riddle. "i think he's foolish and arrogant, but i guess i pity him to some degree."

"and the creature?"

"i'm much more sympathetic toward him. he's very... complex and certainly less culpable for the events of the novel than his creator."

you're surprised when he laughs. "of course you would think that way."

and with that, he's flipping through the pages of the novel. you move to sit beside him and once he finds what he's looking for near the middle, he begins reading:

"remember, thou hast made me more powerful than thyself; my height is superior to thine, my joints more supple. but i will not be tempted to set myself in opposition to thee. i am thy creature, and i will be even mild and docile to my natural lord and king if thou wilt also perform thy part, the which thou owest me. oh, frankenstein, be not equitable to every other and trample upon me alone, to whom thy justice, and even thy clemency and affection, is most due. remember that i am thy creature; i ought to be thy adam, but i am rather the fallen angel, whom thou drivest from joy for no misdeed. everywhere i see bliss, from which i alone am irrevocably excluded. i was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend. make me happy, and i shall again be virtuous.”

his voice is strangely even, almost bordering on robotic. you're struck with the notion that he's attempting (with rare difficulty) to mask his emotions.

you regard him quizzically and wait for him to speak. the last thing you expect to hear tumbles from his lips.

"you know they called me the disgraced one?" you nod. "do you know why?"

"i know the story that sorcerers have passed down."

he hums. leaning back into the couch, he looks fixedly at the ceiling before continuing. "i was just a boy when i was orphaned and no one knew anything about my heritage, including me. jujutsu society took me in and raised me as a sorcerer."

"and you didn't care for it?"

"oh, quite the opposite. i reveled in it. my strength was unprecedented, that much was clear from the start. i surpassed my teachers with ease, and eventually, i took to training alone— reading primitive texts and honing skills that they couldn't teach me."

your hand finds his thigh, hoping to offer him some consolation before beckoning him to continue. "then what happened?"

"the men who had been my teachers, who had been the only.. family i'd ever known.. they scorned me. deemed me reckless and dangerous to jujutsu society. plotted my demise."

your voice is small when you ask, "were they right?"

he wants to hate the question— wants to hate you for asking it— but he knows that it's warranted.

"no. i admit i was forward thinking and a bit.. unorthodox, but i wasn't..."

"what they thought you were?" you offer gently.

he nods. "not until they made me that way— not until they abandoned me and backed me into a corner like some animal."

you struggle to find the right thing to say, if any such thing even exists. you're amazed that he's confiding in you, and while it makes your heart swell, you really don't want to fuck it up.

he looks back down at the book, his eyes scanning the paragraph before repeating, "i was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend."

he says it as if he's coming to terms with the circumstances of his life for the very first time.

"the creature was remorseful at the end of the novel," you recall somewhat bravely. "are you?"

sukuna thinks for a great deal of time before replying. you wait patiently for him.

"no," he answers decidedly.

looking over at you for the first time since he began his story, he's relieved to find your face is free of rebuke. instead, there's a warm willingness to understand him. a sadness because of the way he was alienated.

he's curious whether anyone would be able to read the sentiment on your face, or if he just knows you better than most.

is that a privilege he's worthy of? he doubts it.

"you didn't deserve what they did to you," you whisper, reaching up to rake your fingers through his hair, nails grazing his scalp before your palm rests against his temple.

his head leans almost imperceptibly into your hand, and any regret or unease he may have felt at relaying his past to you disappears. watching a single tear slip down your cheek, he wipes it away with the pad of his thumb.

he means to say "don't cry. not for me," but the words die in his throat.

for once, your tears are for him rather than because of him and it's utterly riveting. the fact that someone like you would cry on his behalf seems to contradict every horrible thing he's ever been told about himself.

he could sit here and bask in the feeling forever— he's always known himself to be selfish after all. and you know it too, don't you?

his eyes flicker between each of yours, studying your face. "do you want to know why i don't regret the things i've done?"

you tilt your head to the side. "why?"

"because even if it's made me into a monster..."

for a moment, he contemplates not saying anything more. he considers forcing himself to pull away from your touch, even if it's the only comfort he's been given his entire life. he might still be able to salvage whatever tiny, laughable pieces remain of his pride—

"all of my actions have led me to you."

your eyes soften before you're wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your body to his. he returns the gesture after a few seconds pass.

you know he's awful. you know he's cruel. you know that what he's been through doesn't excuse his actions. but still— you want so desperately to take away his pain. to make up for all the things in his past. to wipe the blood from his hands.

as you embrace such an incredibly complicated man (one who is infamous for unrivaled wickedness, yet has his face buried in your hair), you ponder the creature's plea: "make me happy, and i shall again be virtuous."

a/n 2: if you're still w me, thanks for reading!! i'm not sure how i feel abt this part, so feedback is both welcome and appreciated!! also, how do we like sukuna using angel?? in my head he picked it up from the "my good angel" line in jane eyre, so i hope it doesn't seem too unnatural. alsoooo, highly recommend frankenstein. it's one of my favorite books!! mary shelley popped off and literally created the entire genre of science fiction at 21! anyway, thanks for all the love yall, it means the world<3

taglist: @96jnie @ay0nha @sad-darksoul @bbysatoruuu @luciiferian @risuola @lirasmoon @disaster-rose @archivist-ghoul606 @creative1writings @sloppyzengarden @omismicrowave @cecesharktales @tanyeonn @hiqhkey @ruixrei @yellowsubiesdance @thefallofruins @anything-and-everything-here69 @emzalot @thepup356 @browneyedgirl22 @lantsovheiress // users in bold could not be tagged. if i forgot to tag anyone, my apologies!! just give me a heads up.

#m!writes #sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna imagines #sukuna fluff #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna imagines #ryomen sukuna fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jjk fluff

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lottiematthewsdefender · 2 months ago

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First time with Lottie

Warnings ! NSFW, gock(girl dick), smut, no condom sex.

Pairing ! Pre crash Lottie Matthews x fem!reader

Note ! This is my first request post! Request!

it was Friday night after a Yellowjackets game, and to no one’s surprise, they won, of course, they were undefeated!

She invited you over to her house, it wasn't your first time, since the two of you had been dating for a while, and you ALWAYS stayed over to keep her company during those long, lonely nights when her house was mostly empty except for a few servants who rarely engaged in conversation with her :(

You and her are on her large bed, a deck of cards in her hands as she was shuffling them. You spoke up, your voice breaking the comfortable silence in the air. "Lottie, I'm bored," you said. "Is there anything we can do?"

Lottie looks up from the cards and smiles at you, amused by your boredom. "Well," she says, placing the cards down on the bed beside her. "I can think of a few things we can do." She slides closer to you on the bed, her eyes darkening.

“Oh..” Your heart quickened at Lottie's words, the tone of seduction in her voice was literally impossible to ignore. You were surprised by her forwardness, as the most the two of you have done was a light make out session. You couldn't help but feel a little taken a back.

She immediately noticed how you were shocked and taken a back. “I’m sorry,” she says, her voice barely a whisper. “I didn’t mean to come on that strong, we don’t have to do anything like that yet..” she says, regretting her words. “I just thought we can do more then just make out..”

You crawl over to her and planted a quick, soft kiss on her lips, pulling back slowly. A small smirk teased at the corners of your mouth.

You smiled as you pulled back, your heart still racing from Lottie's earlier words. "I didn't say I wasn't interested," you said, your thumb tracing slow circles on her cheekbones. "I just wasn't expecting you to be so forward."

Lottie's cheeks were flushed, relief spreading across her face, she thought she had totally messed up. "I-" she started, her mind racing to find the right words. "I just thought... I just-" She stuttered off, unable to find the right words. Instead, she reached out a hand and cupped your cheek, her touch gently stroking your skin. "I wanted to make tonight special," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.

You let out a soft giggle at her nervous state and stutters. You climbed into her lap, wrapping your arms around her neck, and kissed her softly on the lips, this time more passionately and for longer.

Over a short amount of time the kiss deepened and the kiss became more and more intense, you both used your tongues, trying to gain dominance over each other, Lottie got the upper hand though, and pushed you onto the bed. Getting a bit more handsy with you.

She slides off your shirt, you lifted your arms to help her with taking it off and she throws it onto the floor.

she ran her hands up and down your sides, her touch sending shivers through your body. She reached around your back, she fumbled with the clasp of your bra. Finally, she managed to unhook it, and she pulled away slightly to admire you.

Lottie's eyes were wide as she took in the sight of your bare chest, her gaze filled with awe and admiration. her fingers tracing the curve of your waist.

You giggled again at her reaction to seeing your tits for the first time. “You’re acting like a deer in headlights.” You joked, making Lottie get flustered.

Eventually, you had discarded each other's clothes except for one thing, Lottie's boxers. She was so nervous to reveal that part of herself, as no one had seen that part of her before.

Lottie hesitated, her hands fidgeting nervously on her lap. She looked up at you with vulnerable and unsure eyes, her usually confident attitude replaced with a sense of shyness.

You reached out and placed a comforting hand on her knee, gently rubbing small circles into her skin with your thumb. "It's okay," you whispered, your voice soft and reassuring. "You don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with."

Lottie took a deep breath, her eyes still locked with yours. She was still hesitant, but the gentle encouragement from you seemed to give her a bit more confidence.

Lottie took a few deep breaths, preparing herself for what she was about to do. She slowly raised her hands to the waistband of her boxers, her fingers trembling just a bit as she began to pull them down. As she did, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement building inside of you. The sight of her body, naked now to you for the first time, was both surreal and beautiful.

This was the first time seeing Lottie’s dick. She was hung as a horse, and it was fully erected from the dry humping you did with her. (BRING BACK DRY HUMPING!!!)

Her dick was girthy and long, hitting her abs the second it sprung out of the prison of her boxers. She definitely lived up to her big dick energy..

After seeing Lottie's dick, you couldn't help but feel aroused. You looked up at her, your eyes dark with desire.

"Shit," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper. "I... I didn't expect you to be so..." Your words trailed off as you struggled to find the right word.

Lottie bit her lip, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and arousal. "Is it... is it too much?”

You reached out, gently stroking her thigh with your hand, feeling the tension in her muscles. “No,” you murmured, your voice low and soothing, “it's perfect.”

Lottie smiled softly, her gaze locking with yours. She seemed to be more reassured now, a sense of reassurance and trust in her eyes.

"Are you sure you're ready?" she asked, gently cupping your cheek.

You nodded, your eyes never leaving hers. "I'm sure," you answered, your voice steady and certain. "I want this."

Lottie nodded her head, before looking down, and she pushed herself inside of you, no help or anything.. just her hips. Her movements were smooth and natural, as if she knew exactly what she was doing. You gasped at the sudden sensation, your body adjusting to her size.

Lottie groaned as she began to move, her hips slowly rocking against yours. She was taking it slowly, enjoying the moment and paying close attention to your reactions.

Her hands rested on your hips, her fingers curled into tight fists. "Is this... okay?" she whispered, her voice strained with effort.

You nodded, unable to form words, completely overcome with pleasure. "Faster," you gasped, your words barely more than a whisper. "Please... faster."

Lottie nodded, her expression determined. She quickened her pace, her hips moving more urgently and forcefully against your own.

The sound of skin against skin filled the room, mixing with your soft moans and gasps. The pace was hard and relentless.

Now.. you and Lottie had no experience with sex, and Lottie already felt herself wanting to cum, she puts her head on your shoulder, her hips rutting into you, hitting your g-spot over and over again. The sensation was overwhelming to the both of you.

She started to move faster, making you let out moans, your lips shut to stay silent, not wanting her servants to hear you, she was struggling to hold back, her thrusts became more sloppy and desperate the more she was on the edge.

You felt the familiar feeling of the many times you’ve finger yourself in the pit of your stomach. “Fuck Lottie I’m about to cum..” you say as your hand grips her hair. She responds with a soft groan, with one last thrust, you both cum at the same time. Thick ropes of her cum enter you.

She pulls away and looks down at where they were both connected and she couldn’t help but feel mesmerized by the beautiful sight. Her hips uncontrollably moved by themselves, fucking her cum into your tight pussy. Making you whimper.

She is most definitely getting you pregnant.

This is so corny but it’s my first smut on here😓I always feel so bad whenever I write long posts like this for some reason, anyways I hope you like it! I haven’t written anything like this since 2022/23 so I’m very out of practice with writing smut.

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets fandom #yellowjackets s3 #yellowjackets season 3 #yellowjackets showtime #yellowjackets spoiler #lottie yellowjackets #wlw yearning #lottie mathews x reader #lottie matthews #wlw post #wlw blog #wlw love #wlw #wlw ns/fw #wlw smut #antler queen

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mellowwillowy · 2 years ago

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Yan! Gambler - Yan! Sponsor x GN Dom?Reader (NSFW)

—𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒐𝒃𝒆𝒓 - 𝑳𝑰𝒇𝑬 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒋𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕

Yan! Gambler who will fuck you on the damn game table with both your ankles resting beside his jaw. All cards and chips scattered, what were you even betting on? Right, a bet of who will be railed nuts.

Yan! Sponsor who sips down the wine that was served to him as he watches you ruined by him. Occasionally flicking your nipple while letting you sip on the wine as well, sharing it with him with a kiss.

"You pretty little thing, shouldn't have bet against Kai... you blew away all my chips."

"Oh shut up, you enjoy watching me wrecked either way."

"Eyes on me."

Yan! Gambler who hisses whenever you pay attention to the latter more than him, will drill into you even faster and harder just to keep your attention on him.

Yan! Sponsor who proposes the idea of playing a game of blackjack while the two of you fuck.

"Who'll be the dealer huh... wouldn't want anyone else seeing you naked."

"A game, you and me. Besides, what else can you bet on? Just be nice and wrap my cock with that cute little hole of yours yeah? I'll have a game with Kazuto first."

He mutters as he gives your cheek a peck, his hands rubbing your cheeks. Kazuto goes to open another brand new deck card, shuffling it swiftly before sliding it to him.

"The winner gets to fuck 'em yeah?" "Sounds fair enough."

The two of them play while you are endowed with the coiling pleasure that is settling in your stomach, you are close but all that ends the moment he pulls out. You figure he lost the bet with the other as he curses at him.

Kazuto cackles as he rounds his way toward you, examining your wasted body as he fingers you, his other fingers feeling your chest, "Be good for me okay?"

"Make it fast, I wasn't done yet."

He starts pumping his fingers in and out fast, scissoring it open before he slides his erected cock out of restraints, lining the tip in front of your gaping hole.

"That's why you should have just folded, pretty boy."

Kazuto slams his cock into you in one motion, making you moan out of surprise, adapting to his shape and length. The latter only grumbles as he pours himself another glass of vodka, gulping it down like a madman while he watches the two of you, his cock still hard and in need of relief.

You pity it, and so you beckon him to come closer. No, it is more of an order, "Come."

He rounds himself close to your face and your hand holds his cock, lightly pumping it while your lip kisses his angry tip, giving it a tease by occasionally licking it.

"Who's a good boy hm?"

""Me."" The two speak in union before glaring at each other.

You chuckle at them before you roll your hips around Kazuto's length, igniting a moan out of him. You waste no time in pampering Kai's cock as well, wrapping his shaft with your mouth while your legs are wrapped around Kazuto's waist.

Kai hesitates a bit before using your hair as a lever, chasing his own pleasure greedily. You bite his member lightly, reminding him to be mindful of his actions. The state shared between the three of you is clear now, who is leading and who is being led.

You pull away just before he gets to come, edging him by rubbing his head, eyes trained onto the other man. "How's my little mutt doing down there? Need me to ride you instead?"

"N-no, ahhn..." Kazuto shudders as he blushes from the moan that slips out of his lip. You merely smirk at him as you rock yourself on his length, your forearms holding your whole weight as Kai rubs one for himself.

"Be a good boy yeah? Sponsor me more so that I can bust it even more in these dumb games yeah?"

"Wh-whaa-? Wait, urgh- wait, I said wait! Akh-!" You yank his face toward yours by the collar of his shirt, slamming your lip into his while greedily feeling his chest, "Ya' think ya' get to make me wait?"

Not wanting to lose, Kai butts in and licks your face before you allow him to feel your mouth with a kiss, tongues swirling against each other while your hand pinches his nipple, giving him more stimulation.

"Come on boys, cum all over me now yeah?"

Just from your words, granting them permission to come, they start to chase their own pleasure at a more feverish pace. Rope of cum spluttered on your face while the other comes inside you, making your inside feels warm. You groan at how it is splattered on your hair as well, "Fucking aim, skill issue boy?"

"I don't know. You just look prettier that way."

"Don't say something that you will regret, I'll fucking return it to you twice fold."

Kazuto peppered your face with kisses as though he is trying to calm you down, his softened cock still resting inside you. "Now now, how about we play for another round?"

"Sure, I'll make sure you two can't sit anymore once I win."

And you sure are a person of words.

-- Crack

Yan! Sponsor: Please, have a seat.

NPC: ??? Why aren't you sitting down sir?

Yan! Sponsor: I suppose standing is one way of living a healthy lifestyle?

NPC: *visible confusion*

Yan! Delinquent: Cmon' pal, we are heading out.

Yan! Gambler: ...with a bike?

Yan! Delinquent: Well what else you shithead? On a cock? A stap-on?

Yan! Gambler: I'm passing that.

They are like, the second oldest Male casts in LIfE Pro (after Yulian) and the least favored one ffs. Just gonna drop this snippet here as some sort of memorial for them ☆ﾐ(o*･ω･)ﾉ

#yandere male #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere x you #yandere imagines #male yandere #yandere insert #yandere oc #yandere headcanons #yandere works #yandere smut #yandere writing #reader insert #x reader #oc #x gn reader #yandere husband #LIfE Project

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januaryembrs · 11 months ago

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Bugsy and Spencer tea!!

the one with the card counting | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader

description: Bugsy and Spence quarrel while playing Old Maid

length: 700 wds

set in the trouble almost all my life universe

“Spence, I love you, but if you try card counting in Old Maid one more time, I’m not speaking to you for the rest of the flight,” Bugsy snipped, staring down at the man over their deck of cards, his hazel eyes narrowed and concentrated as he flicked through his hand. The joker card glared down at him from the dead centre, where he’d strategically placed it so she’d be more likely to take it when her turn came, though he’d been unsuccessful so far.

She didn’t need to see his lips to know he was chewing them in frustration, eyes darting between the pile on the table of already used hands, the rest of the deck they were picking up from, and how many cards she had in her hand.

“I’m not, and even if I was, it’s just math,” He replied in a defensive tone, knowing she’d already caught him out as he looked up at her, the red back designs fanning over her mouth and nose, though her annoyed expression was still clear as day to him. For a guy who rarely understood what people meant until they spelled it out verbally for him, Bugsy had always just seemed to make sense in his head, “I’m not cheating,”

He said it like someone who was trying to convince himself it was true, his eyes as innocent and none threatening as they would go, though he got that little notch between his brows that said he knew exactly what he was doing and felt bad for lying to her.

Huffing, she drew her cards to her chest and setting her elbows on the table, Hotch to her left with an amused smile drawing at his lips as he tried to catch some sleep on the way home from a case, though the sound of the two agents bickering gave him some inflight entertainment at least.

“Oh, really?” She asked, daring him to repeat himself even though saying it the first time had been hard enough, and Spencer simply nodded with a small ‘Mhm’, “Alright, smart guy, if we’re playing it like that then I’m taking this card,” Bugsy said, pulling the ace of spades he had sitting beside the joker with a pointed look on her face, “And the reason I want this one and not the one next to it is because I know that's where you put the old maid,”

Spencer swallowed, the tip of his nose turning a blush, as he grit his teeth together in annoyance, “I guess the joke is on you, Miss Prentiss. I don’t even have the old maid,” He said, forcing his voice not to quake, and he sounded somewhat believable, at least that’s what he thought until he saw her brow raise, and he knew he was fucked.

“Yeah? Government names is it?” She asked again, giving him chance to fix his error, only he doubled down with a second nod, his lips pursed. Her finger shot out to point to the joker card, where she could only see the intricate pattern that matched every other in his hand, “So this isn’t the Old Maid?”

Spencer blinked once, the two of them exchanging a heated look like they were waiting for the smallest of breaks in character, and his breathing even despite the fact it was under duress, his expression abnormally calm as the jet went entirely silent, “Yes,”

“Bullshit,” He quickly collected his cards to his lap and scrambled to shuffle them well enough that she wouldn’t guess which one was the dead card, his scowl spreading over his face.

“You cheater, you must have seen my cards, there’s no way to count where I put the joker, that is entirely by chance-” Spencer snapped back, flipping them between his long, lithe fingers as Bugsy giggled into her hand.

“Play nicely, boys and girls,” Rossi chided where he had his nose buried in the newspaper, only glancing up to see Spencer glaring at the girl who sat opposite him with a victorious smirk.

“Face it, Spencer Reid. You might be good, but I’m better.” Derek bit his lip to stop himself from laughing where he was eavesdropping on their game on the seats behind them, and he thought he might have to take it to his deathbed that he and the younger girl had swapped Spencer's cards out the second he went to the bathroom. Or maybe save it for a rainy day, when he really needed leverage against the stubborn girl and let them squabble in peace.

Bugsy didn't tell him until a year later, the week before she left for London.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #bugspence #matthew gray gubler x reader

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toxicanonymity · 1 year ago

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being bad and looking good.

2.8k, raider!Joel (dark) x f!reader | Raider Master SUMMARY: You look hot but get punished for acting up. WARNINGS: I8+ dubcon unsafe P in V, possessive Joel, creampie, manhandling, angst, joel makes you cry, rough, spanking, choking. He's a bad guy, not a kink practitioner: no rules. He cares, and you enjoy the dique, but you're captive. A/N: HYPOTHETICAL because I didn't want to figure out where to place it in the timeline. Set vaguely in the past. This is for a lingerie ask as well as readers who have requested feral/mad Joel or sweet pea being bad. @javier-penas-wifexx420 @arcanefox207 IMMERSABILITY: Reader has hair that can be held/pulled. Joel can lift reader. Reader has no height/size, so fill in the blanks for whether he has to bend his knees to enter you, etc.

Joel lets it slip how close the abandoned mall is, and you can't stop thinking about going there. You want to get something for him. He always brings you things and you never have anything to give him other than food you've foraged and flowers for the trailer. One day, you insist it would be fine with Joel if you go to the mall. You make it sound like you've discussed it. Carter is skeptical, but he feels bad for you. He finally breaks down and agrees to take you.

When you're there, you're walking through the mall and notice Carter's head turn all the way toward a particular storefront as you walk by. You wouldn't have noticed it otherwise. He keeps the same stride, but you slow down to look.

It's a lingerie store. Most of the mannequins are bare or have clothes hanging off them, but there are huge, fading posters with women of all shapes and sizes sporting lace teddies, babydolls, bralettes, strappy garters, and the floor is littered with them.

Carter sighs when he realizes you've stopped at the store.

As he slowly walks back to you, scratching the back of his neck, you ask, “Do you think Joel would like it if I had something from here?” The question feels almost rhetorical, but there's that bit of insecurity, too.

“Uh, I dunno. Sure, I guess.” Carter doesn't seem comfortable. He agrees to let you go in for just a minute to see if you find something, but you have to stay in view. And you think you do. It's a two piece with a sheer, strappy top. The bottom is more modest than a thong, but it has a slit in the crotch that makes you clench your thighs together thinking about Joel.

—-

When you get home, you put it on in the bathroom so you can look at yourself in the mirror. You think it looks good, but it's not a full-length view. And you're not quite sure if it's fitting right. How much tit is supposed to be showing? How tight should it be? You put the flannel back on, but leave it open when you come out. You feel a little more covered than you are, since the nature of the fabric shows a lot.

Carter's sitting at the kitchen table casually shuffling a deck of cards. He looks at you for only a split second before his face hardens, and he abruptly looks away. “Jesus,” he drops the cards on the table, and the chair groans against the floor as he stands up. “The hell are ya doin’?” he awkwardly turns around, pulling up on his pants a little.

“I just wanna know if it looks-”

“--'m sure it looks great,” Carter runs his hands through his hair in distress as he looks out the window. Then, he tightly crosses his arms, and they stretch his sleeves even more. “Now get outta here,” he tells you. He rocks forward onto his toes, then back, waiting for you to leave.

Is he mad? You step further into the kitchen and try to meet his eyes in the reflection.

His voice is stern. “Go put some goddamn clothes on.”

“Sorry, I wasn't–”

“Now.” He means it. You stand there stunned for a moment with your lip quivering. He's never been angry at you before.

“NOW.” He points toward Joel's room, veins bulging on his hand and arm. He doesn't turn around to look at you, but you see the flush from his cheeks creeping onto his neck and ears.

You go to your room and sniffle as you button the flannel. Then you put on a pair of shorts, curl up on the bed, and cry.

–

After a few minutes, there's a soft knock on the bedroom door. “Ya’okay?”

You only sniffle, “I'm sorry,” in response.

Carter sighs. “I shouldn'ta snapped at ya, darlin’. But ya just – can't do that, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Shit, you're a pretty girl, okay? But it ain't my business how ya look. . .in somethin’ like that.”

“. . .I know, I wasn't thinking.”

“Now, if you're dressed and wanna play rummy, I’ll deal. . .”

You smile to yourself through your tears.

—--

You dry your eyes and come out to the kitchen, but something in the air is different as you pull out a chair and sit down.

“Carter, please forget it,” you plead and try to get him to look at you. It feels like you broke something.

He finally makes eye contact and forces a little smile. Then he concentrates on the cards as he deals. “Two, two, three, three,” he counts the cards out loud for each of you as he deals. He finishes, and while you're studying the hand you’re dealt, it's quiet. In the corner of your eye, Carter's gaze falls to your now fully-covered chest, but he quickly pulls his eyes away and looks straight down, fidgeting with his cards. You feel awful. What if he can’t look at you the same? It was stupid to try to show him. Of course it would look good to Joel, he likes everything on (and off) you.

______

When Joel gets home, you're in the bedroom alone, sitting on the bed in the lingerie and flannel. As he enters through the kitchen, his boots are heavy on the linoleum. Your heart races with a moment of doubt - how are you going to explain this? But he bursts in the room grumbling, “goddamn Harold, tryin’ to get us all killed.” He takes his shirt off over his back, tosses it to the laundry, and looks at you. He pauses and devours the view for a few seconds before he slowly approaches, chest heaving.

He looms over you as you sit on the bed. He uses both hands to nudge the flannel off your shoulders, and it pools behind you. You take your arms out of it. He grabs a tit and rests his other hand on the nape of your neck, thumb brushing the curve of your skull. His chest lets out a low growl as he feels you. Then his fingers trail up the strap on one shoulder. He plucks it and it snaps against your skin.

Joel’s face darkens as he asks, “Where’d it come from?” When you don’t answer fast enough, his hand traces up your throat. A chill spreads across your chest. His thumb brushes the side of your neck, then slides over to lift your chin and make you look at him. “Where.”

“I wanted to do something you’d like.”

“Where,” he repeats, then clenches his jaw, waiting.

“You said the mall wasn’t far, so–”

He raises his voice. “You went to the mall? Where was Carter?”

“It’s okay, he was there, even found a part for the van in the parking lot.”

Joel’s nostrils flare, and he grips your jaw. “Carter took you to the mall.”

Your eyes water with panic. “No, it wasn’t his idea--”

“To buy somethin’ like this.”

“I wanted to get you something. I didn’t know they had this stuff —”

“He's got no business takin’ ya anywhere. And sure as hell not somewhere sexy.”

You're worried for Carter and grateful he’s not around. “I swore the mall was okay, that you wouldn’t mind. I didn’t know there was somewhere sexy,” your voice trails off.

Joel shakes his head, nostrils flaring. “You don't say what's okay. You don't KNOW what's okay. Get up.”

He forces you to your feet then turns you around.

“I thought you'd like it,” you sniffle. “You always do things for me.”

“He grabs your ass, lifting your butt cheek and lets it drop. He clicks his tongue. “well, I sure don't like how ya got it.”

“I'm sorry”

“Think ya need a reminder who's in charge here.”

“I know,” you sniffle in agreement, sensing what's coming. He sits down on the bed and manhandles you into lying face down over his knees. You feel a twinge of arousal even before he shifts your position and your hip brushes the hard shape in his jeans.

You hold your breath as he brings his hand back, then it lands with a sting and you yelp at the force. You bury your mouth in your arm as he brings his hand back again. He repeats it on the other cheek and you let out a muffled whimper that sounds more aroused than you should be.

“Like bein’ bad?” He asks, then spanks you again.

“No.”

His hand lands with a sting one more time and stays on your skin to grab the plush of your burning skin. “Ya like this?”

“. . .I dunno,” you whimper, unsure of the right answer.

He feels between your legs, his thick finger finding a damp slit in the cotton crotch of the lacy underwear. He slips a finger inside the garment, giving you a shock of need when his knuckle nudges your dripping hole. “Ya do, don't ya? Get up.” He grabs your arm and stands up, forcing you to your feet. He holds your hair and stares you down sternly. “This ain't for fun, baby, it's your safety” He lets go of your hair and looms closer. “Understand?”

You nod and reflexively back up. Something tells you it's not just about your safety.

“AND Carter's. You tryin' to make me hurt’m?” He asks. Joel gets closer and you keep backing up toward the wall.

“No,” you sob. “Please don't. He’s good, so good, he wouldn't even look at me. He respects you so much”

A new rage flashes across Joel's face and he lowers his voice. “He wouldn't . . .even . . .look at ya,” he mutters too calmly for your comfort. He takes a deep breath, looks you up and down again, puts his hand on your chest, fingers spread wide, and walks you harshly into the wall. His bare chest heaves. ”But ya gave him the chance, didn't ya,” Joel nods. You've dug your hole so much deeper.

“I was only thinking about–” Joel’s hand comes to your neck as you croak out, “--you.” You don't know what you were thinking. Joel doesn't either. He slowly shakes his head, nostrils flaring.

He pins you with his hips, and his hard cock digs into your front, making you gush.

“Forget who ya belong to?”

“No,” you whimper. “I’m yours.”

He pulls his hips back and quickly unfastens his pants. You bite your lip to keep from moaning at the sight of his cock. It nudges under the bottom hem of the lingerie top to reach your body. You feel his skin hit your lower belly, and it makes you weak with desire. “Only wanna be yours.”

He kicks your feet apart to spread your legs, and he brings his lips to your hair. “Then ya do what I say. Understand?”

“Yes sir,” you whisper, then he shoves his hand between your legs, using two fingers to spread the slit in the fabric of the crotch.

“‘s’for your own good,” he adds.

He nudges the slit with his cockhead. The fabric doesn’t open wide enough, so he rips the slit more, then you feel his tip at your wet little hole. He holds his cock in line, then grabs your ass and shoves up into you all at once, bottoming out. The force makes your back and shoulders drag up the wall. With your feet now off the ground, your knees bend, cradling his hips. He holds you by your ass, adjusts your weight, and your back is against the wall. You balance your arms around his neck. His thick cock retreats then punches into you again.

He's so thick, each time he pushes in, it feels like he’s taking up your whole body. He’s not looking at you; he’s looking past you. The grip of his fingers hurts enough to feel good, to feel his desperation, how much he has to have you–for him and only him.

He grunts and growls and breathes heavily, stomach heaving against you. “You're mine, sweet pea.”

“I am,” you agree.

“No one else can have ya.” His words get broken with the force of his thrusts. “No one else can see ya.”

“I know.”

You moan as he buries his length in you roughly, and he mutters “goddamn,” tightening his grip on your ass. You’re overwhelmed by the fullness of his cock, his skin against yours, his breath in your hair, his body pinning you there. All of it makes your insides swell with mounting pleasure.

“I love being yours,” you pant.

He fucks you in relative silence for about two minutes, the room filled only with the sounds of his brutish grunts and unbridled sighs, your little moans and whimpers, and the squelch of his stiff cock pumping in and out of your dripping cunt.

He adjusts your weight and looks down at your body from time to time, letting your upper back rest against the wall as he rails into you. You’re reassured that he likes the fit, at least. Your legs wrap loosely around him.

The pressure in your lower belly builds with each grunt, each thrust of his cock. Soon, his breath becomes shaky and the drag of his cock quickens. Then he bottoms out sharply with a groan, drawing a sigh from you as he begins to pulse. He thrusts into you slower, more controlled, and you rock slowly against the wall. The rhythmic swell of his shaft within your walls and the warm seed spilling from his tip make you clench around him. You moan his name, tighten your legs, and he sighs as your cunt chokes his cock.

When his balls are empty, he slides out, and the fabric pulls with his cock as he withdraws and lets you down to the floor.

—-

Joel sighs, crams his wet cock into his pants, and fastens them again.

“You okay?” He asks, catching his breath.

“Yeah,” you mutter. “Where are you going?”

“Gonna pay Carter a visit, down at the house.”

“Please, Joel, it was all my fault,” you beg. “Don’t do it.”

“Ain’t gonna kill’m. This time.” You still don’t like the look on his face.

You follow him across the room, reach for his arm, and your fingers land lightly on his inner elbow. He pauses, still without his shirt on, and looks down at your hand on his elbow. He turns around, reads your face, then goes over to the bed without a word. He sits and manspreads. “I was desperate to make you happy,” you plead, fidgeting with the hem of your top.

Joel scrunches his face. “Ya do make me happy, sweet pea.”

“He didn't even wanna take me,” you insist.

“Then he’s gotta learn to say no.”

You hesitantly come closer, unsure if he’ll turn you away, but he lets you between his legs, then you sit on his thigh and keep fidgeting with the hem of your top.

“He says no all the time,” you assure Joel.

“Does he,” Joel mutters skeptically.

“I made it like he would've been saying no to you.”

Joel shakes his head, looking at your mouth. “That ain't right, but he knows better, baby.”

“He yelled at me,” you offer, hoping it doesn't make things worse.

Joel's brow furrows and his tone sharpens. “Ya gotta stop lyin’, now. It's pissin’ me off.”

“I'm not! He was mad.”

“Oh yeah? What'd he yell?”

“Told me to go away and put on some clothes.”

Joel’s chin lifts to look at the ceiling and he takes a deep breath, then looks at you. “What the hell got into ya, huh?”

“I dunno,” you mumble. “Feel like I'm going crazy, stuck here all day.” Joel looks at you. “But you take good care of me,” you clarify, “and I love it here.”

But that’s not what Joel’s thinking about.

“Wanna fuck him? Suck his dick?”

“No!” You're on the verge of tears again. “God, Joel, please don't talk like that.” Your face is scrunched up in pain.

“Then don't act like it.”

“I was–okay, I get it.”

Joel is quiet for a few seconds, then asks, “What if I told ya to suck his dick?”

“No!”

“You'd say no to me?”

“I’d ask if I really have to.”

Joel's face slowly softens, like you found the only acceptable answer. “And why’s that?”

“Cause I only want yours.”

“Hm,” Joel nods.

“Please, Joel. Stay here, don't go to him. . .you can talk to him tomorrow.”

You put your arms around Joel's neck and study his pensive face. Then you bury your head in his neck and whisper “Sorry.” His hand slowly comes to your back. You dip your head and lightly brush your lips against his collar bone, then return your face under his jaw, and he nestles his head over yours. Your wet lashes blink against his skin, and his hand slowly slides on your back. Somehow, it feels like more comfort than you deserve.

“Ok, baby,” he whispers and wraps both arms around you.

----------

if you wanna know whether Carter sees sweet pea that way, check out he's only human.

----------

Their present-day story will continue, but I don't have an ETA, sorry. Unless the next one gets split up, it'll have fluff, two moods of smut, angst.

I appreciate all your comments that let me know what you enjoy and what curiosities you have. Thank you so much for reading, and thanks for your support. Love you all.

tag list - : @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @may-machin @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret @bean-is-reading @rainstorms-library

Raider: @randomhoe @princessloveweird @mugshotqueen @anas-dreamer @eggnox @dindjarins-brown-eyed-girl @tulipsatmidnight @imaginary98 @neobanguniverse@quietlyignoringyou @gab-thelamb-onthemoon

#dark!joel miller #joel miller x reader #cw dubcon #raider!joel miller #joel miller smut #raider!carter #toxicanonymity ☠️#raider!joel #pedro pascal characters #possessive!joel miller

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megalony · 1 year ago

Text

He's Not One Of Us

This is a new Eddie Diaz imagine, requested by anon, I hope you will all like it. I'm loving all the Eddie requests coming through recently and am trying to work my way through them all.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103

Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Summary: (Y/n) has a bad feeling about the new recruit. And things go from bad to worse when she's paired with him on a call and ends up getting injured.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A grin overtook (Y/n)'s features and she looked up from the cards she was shuffling to see who was hovering over her and causing a shadow to cast across her eyes.

She watched the way Eddie leaned over until his right hand hovered over her shoulder and clamped down on the back of the sofa. And his left hand held the arm of the sofa, effectively caging her down where she sat so she had no form of escaping him. His knees pressed down into hers and when he tilted his head to the side, a smirk flooded his face and made (Y/n)'s stomach ignite with adrenaline.

"Hm, what're you after?" She continued shuffling the cards, waiting for Evan to come back and play another round. They had just finished lunch and they had a bit of free time to kill, waiting for their next call out.

"A kiss." He responded boldly, quirking his lips up to the side but when he leaned close, (Y/n) ducked her head down so he kissed her temple instead.

She could feel the way he huffed against her temple but kissed her there anyway and she tried not to make a sound. Her eyes focused on the deck of cards she shifted between her fingers but her chest tightened when Eddie's hand left the arm of the chair and moved to cup her chin. He held her chin between his thumb and finger and tilted her head up so they were level again.

"Don't tease me." His words were pleading, but his tone was demanding and (Y/n) couldn't help herself.

"Why not? What're you gonna do, Eddie, punish me?"

She leaned up and pecked his cheek before she pushed back in her seat and sat up straight, adding some distance between them. They were on shift. They were supposed to be curteous and professional and Eddie was making it extremely hard right now.

And (Y/n) knew her husband. He wasn't always touchy-feely when they were on shift together, he liked to try and remain professional and keep the boundaries because of regulations. But he was starting to bend the rules a little more recently instead of it being just (Y/n) who would sneak up on him and steal a kiss from his unknowing lips.

Her eyes widened and she drew in a sharp breath when Eddie moved. His knees moved away from hers until they were pinned into her thighs and he was practically sat down on her lap. But she almost crushed the cards in half when his hands moved to the top of her trousers. Before (Y/n) could say anything, Eddie managed to worm his fingers beneath her waistband and under her shirt that she had tucked into her trousers.

His cold fingers on her skin made her stomach pull in and she took a sharp breath when one of his fingers hooked into her underwear.

"Eddie!" She hissed as she tilted her head to look around. "If someone sees we'll get pulled in Bobby's office."

(Y/n) set the cards down on the seat next to her before she curled her fingers tightly around Eddie's wrist. She wasn't quite strong enough to pull his hand away when he tensed his arms and fought to keep his hands where they were. His lips quirked into a baiting smirk and a devilish look passed across his eyes that seemed to turn three shades darker within the space of a second.

"So gimme a kiss."

His fingertips wedged against her underwear and squeezed her hips until he could see she was barely able to breathe and her eyes kept nervously looking around. Her brother would never let them live this down if he caught them. Bobby would probably stop letting them be on shift together. Chimney would be embarrassed and wouldn't know how to act and she dreaded to think what Hen would do if she saw them in a compromising position like this.

She kept one hand tightly clenched around Eddie's wrist to stop him from getting any more ideas and moving his hand any further into her pants. But her left hand reached up to cup his jaw and her thumb traced his cheekbone as she pushed up to kiss him.

Her lips pressed fiercely into his until he was leaning back from the pressure and she pulled on his bottom lip to part them and swipe her tongue past his lips.

She kissed him until he stole all the air from her lungs and left her feeling lightheaded and on the verge of passing out. When Eddie groaned against her lips, (Y/n) finally pulled back and let her head flop back on the sofa so she was left staring up at his wide grin and hooded eyes.

"That's your lot, now release me." She murmured softly, pushing her knees up to make him take the hint and move.

He looked doubtful, as if he was about to grin and move his hands even further south and (Y/n) wouldn't put it past him. But Eddie obliged, shimmying his hands back out of her trousers and just to wind her up, he dragged her shirt up too. He pulled the bottom of her shirt out of her waistband and pulled a few of the buttons loose in the few spare seconds he had before (Y/n) was hitting his hands to scold him.

"Eddie…" She whined and pushed his hands back towards his own chest and when he finally climbed off her lap and slumped down next to her, she glared playfully at him.

Her hands moved to do up her buttons quickly when she heard Evan coming back over. She did not want her big brother to see her clothes askew and realise what Eddie had been up to. He didn't need that image and she didn't need the torment.

She grabbed the deck of cards Eddie had almost sat on and placed them on his thigh, letting her fingers drag dangerously close to his zipper to see if he would smirk or frown or pull away.

"Your turn to beat my brother at cards. I'm gonna go check the inventory." (Y/n) allowed Eddie one last kiss before she got up and weaved past her brother before Eddie could pin her back down and prevent her from moving.

She would let Eddie take her place in the game of cards, she had been on a winning streak anyway.

And it felt more dangerous to stay close to Eddie when he was in a teasing mood like that. She didn't quite know if he could keep his wandering hands to himself, and as much as she didn't want him to, she didn't want to get caught out either.

(Y/n) headed down the stairs but when she went towards the stock room, she stopped and glanced over towards one of the engines.

The new guy. He had some of the hatches open on the truck and a clipboard in his hands. He was doing an inventory check.

"Do you need me to grab anything out of inventory for you?" She stuffed her hands into her pockets and walked over towards him with a kind smile. Her eyes danced across the hatches to see what was in the truck and see if anything needed restocking.

There was something about the new guy that seemed a little… off. He wasn't like the other newbies they got here. He wasn't trying to intergrate himself into the team and become one of them right away. He wasn't sucking up to anyone or trying to cause trouble and he wasn't exactly getting stuck in.

Blake did whatever he was told, but he seemed to want to be told how to do everything. It was as if he needed clear instructions for every little call out they had. Eddie had to tell him yesterday to bandage a woman's hand when she had suffered a burn. He just stood looking at her hand like it was a miracle and he didn't know how to treat it.

"Um… I can't find any of these in here."

(Y/n) leaned down to see what he was pointing at on the clipboard but she rolled her lips together when she looked at the top of the page.

She moved her hands towards the clipboard, silently asking if she could take it and when he handed it over, she took the sheet of paper off. (Y/n) swapped it for the page behind it and slowly pointed at the writing on the top of the page.

"That was the ambulance inventory, you need to be checking this one, for the engine."

He had been on the inventory that they stocked in the ambulance. It was an honest mistake, he clearly hadn't looked at the top of the page. But he should have figured something wasn't right. No fire house tended to stock their fire engines with stethoscopes, bandages, gauze and saline bags.

When he looked over the page but didn't say anything, (Y/n) took a peek inside and turned around.

By the time she went into the inventory room, grabbed two new CO2 extinguishers and came back to the truck, Blake had moved all of two steps. He seemed to have ticked a few things on the list and he was at least looking through what was in the truck now which was a start.

"Can you get the old CO2 tank out and check it please? I'm pretty sure it was almost empty when we used it this morning."

(Y/n) busied herself slotting the two new tanks into place and clipping them in so they wouldn't roll around in the hatch. But when she looked over at Blake, her brows furrowed and she sank her teeth down into her lower lip. What was he doing?

"These sure are different to the ones I'm used to… does it usually stick this much?"

Where had he come from to deal with different fire extinguishers? Most of them were exactly the same, only the size of the cannisters changed. They all operated the same way so everyone could use them.

But when (Y/n) leaned over to see what he was trying to do, her stomach flooded with adrenaline and she reached around him.

"No… you have to take the pin out, see?" She removed the safety pin and when he pressed the metal release clasps together, the last drop of CO2 burst out the nozzle.

Was he trying to wind her up? Was this a joke that (Y/n) didn't find funny?

He should have been shown how to use the cannister in his basic training back at the academy. No one got past the first stage if they couldn't operate a hose or a cannister for a basic fire emergency test. Blake must be winding (Y/n) up and she just didn't see the funny side. But he looked so serious, even as he walked away to dispose of the cannister.

Something was strange about him.

***

"Okay, Eddie, Buck you two go to the first floor and try to put out as much of that fire as you can. Hen tend to the workers, Chim you and me will take the ground floor. And (Y/n), take Blake with you up to the second floor. That fire is everywhere and it needs to be out. Go."

A shiver tore down (Y/n)'s spine when Bobby's voice rung out through the air, over the smoke consuming the midnight sky.

Why did she have to take Blake? Why couldn't Bobby keep the new guy with him and show him the ropes and keep an eye on him?

(Y/n) had a bad feeling about Blake. There was just something that wasn't right about him and she didn't know why, but he made her nervous. She didn't want to be the one to get paired up with him. He was going to slow her down and that was the last thing they needed when this warehouse was consumed in fire and needed putting out before the whole structure collapsed.

But she couldn't go against orders and she had no specific reason not to trust Blake. She couldn't signal him out and risk creating waves in the team and getting reprimanded for not being a team player.

With her gloves, overcoat and helmet secured, (Y/n) turned to Eddie who was stood on her right. She knew he could see the apprehension in her eyes, but she tried to smile. The last thing she wanted to do was worry him right now.

"All good?"

"All good. See you soon." She nodded and her smile felt more relaxed when Eddie curved an arm around her waist and leaned down to press a kiss to her cheek. He muttered a few choice words in her ear, gave her a squeeze, then pulled away to find his own helmet and overcoat.

The hose wouldn't stretch through the lobby, up both stairwells and across the second floor. So (Y/n) found an extinguisher and when Blake followed her lead, she headed inside after her husband and brother. The boys parted onto the first floor and Evan grinned back at his sister before she and Blake hurried up to the next level.

Most of the workers had gone home before the fire and the few who were left had managed to get out. The 236 station had started an evacuation and almost everyone was accounted for now. Their job was to put the fires out, that was their main focus and if they saw anyone along the way, they had to get them out.

Heading out into the corridor, (Y/n) opened one of the doors on her right and shone her torch around.

"Try and turn the sprinkler system on, will you?"

"Sure."

When Blake nodded, (Y/n) walked further into the room and started putting out the small fires. The main flames were out in the corridor which would be a big issue to cover.

(Y/n) finished putting out the fires and headed across into the next room while Blake started following the sprinkler system built into the ceiling to try and see if there was another lever somewhere he could wrench into working. It took him out into the corridor while (Y/n) focused on making sure each room was evacuated and clear.

"Alright guys, how we looking up there? Building manager says all personel have been accounted for except for a secretary in the East end of the second floor. (Y/n), Blake, can you find your way there?" Bobby's voice came through the speaker and made (Y/n) feel a little better. One last person to get out, then the fire was the primary focus. This wasn't going to be such a rushed job.

Just as she headed back out into the corridor, her eyes widened and her heart jumped up into her chest when a soaring wave of vibrant orange and blood red crimson surged her way.

(Y/n) backed up as a consuming wave of heat overwhelmed her body and flames sparked down the corridor. If fire could have moved and imitated a wave, (Y/n) swore she had seen a tsunami of fire engulf the corridor. The shock and extreme power sent her down to the floor with a thud and she cringed when the floorboards creaked. This floor was unsteady as it was without her being thrown about the room.

Pushing up to her knees, (Y/n) took a few steady breaths and looked down at herself, making sure she was truly alright before she got up and tried to head out into the corridor. Her eyes locked on Blake who was on the other side of the corridor in the doorway to an office. They both looked up at the ceiling and (Y/n) felt like she could cry when she realised there had to be a gas leak.

One of the pipes above them was sizzling and the flames were soaring up towards the roof. The warehouse was going to go up in flames if the gas wasn't turned off.

"What was that? (Y/n) you okay?" Eddie's voice carried through the radio and made (Y/n) smile.

"I- we're good… Cap we have a gas leak up here, someone needs to turn the gas off now. This corridor is blocked, we can't get through to the East side."

"Fully blocked?"

"Yep… we could go up to the roof though, a rope rescue is our best bet." (Y/n) had done a few rope rescues in her time. It would be much easier to go to the roof and lower down the side of the building and into one of the offices on the East side. They could get the woman out safely that way.

They couldn't push their way through the flames, they didn't have enough extinguishers to make it all that way and then bring the woman safely back again.

"Do it."

"Be careful!" Both Eddie and Evan spoke at the same time and (Y/n) grinned at the sound of her boy's voices. Her husband and brother, always the worriers. Her protectors.

(Y/n) wasn't sure which room Blake found the rope in, but she was glad he tossed it over his shoulder and grinned. He led the way back towards the stairwell and they started their ascent up towards the roof. It saved them needing to go down to the truck and then climb all the way back up the stairs again.

It didn't feel stable on the roof, but if they were careful and quick the floor felt sturdy enough to hold them for a few minutes, at least. They kept their steps light and their weight evenly spread out as they trailed across to the East side of the building.

The pair of them leaned over the edge and looked down. There was at least three windows that they could smash into on the second floor to find a way to get the secretary out.

"I can go down." (Y/n) watched Blake look around, somewhat nervously, but he smiled and nodded. She thought it might he easier if she went down on the rope. Something told her Blake wasn't the best person to go looking for their victim inside.

Reaching down, she grabbed one end of the rope and threaded it around her waist and looped it as tight as she could so it didn't move an inch below her hips.

"Can you secure it to the chimney for me?" Blake grabbed the other end before she finished speaking and she turned to look back down while he tied it off.

This was exactly like her training at the academy. At least this time, no one would be stood at the bottom waiting for her to fall or make a mistake and timing how long it took her to complete her absail down. And if she had Blake up top to watch, at least he could keep the rope secure and he could then be the eyes and ears when it came to getting their victim out.

"Okay, I- I guess I'll keep watch from up here."

"Okay." (Y/n) tried to smile, but the way Blake was nervously rubbing his gloved hands together made her uneasy.

She held tight to the rope with one hand and used her other hand to lean on the ledge and ease herself over. Her boots pressed up against the brick wall and with a deep breath, (Y/n) slowly threaded the rope through her hand and started her descent down. She only had to go six or seven feet down to reach the window and then she could use her feet and momentum to break the window and get inside. The only problem would be finding where the secretary was.

A jolt surged through (Y/n)'s stomach that felt like it had pushed up into her chest when she juttered down a bit too quickly. Her fist clenched around the rope and she tilted her head back as harsh breaths escaped her lips.

"Blake?" She looked up at him but he just gave her a thumbs up. She was fine.

Her eyes trailed back down to the wall and she tried to keep moving down, but when the rope jolted and she lowered down a bit too quickly, she looked up again. Blake had gone. He wasn't leaning over watching her descent anymore.

When the rope gave way for a third time, (Y/n) held her breath but her lips parted and a scream tumbled past her lips when she felt gravity hold onto her. It was as if invisible hands had suddenly grabbed her waist and started to pull.

(Y/n) had never fallen off of anything before. She had never fallen during an absail, not during her training or in a real life emergency like this.

She could see the rope falling down and grating against the ledge of the roof and the wind whipped against the back of her neck and scraped along her arms as her body tilted backwards and she surged down through the air. All the air left her lungs in a horrid, banshee scream and her eyes snapped closed as her arms pulled up and pinned against her chest.

(Y/n) knew she needed to turn. She should fall on her side to save the risk of damaging her spine or paralysing herself, bit she didn't have the time. Within seconds, all her air was gone and her body no longer felt like it was falling through space and time.

She landed on the tarmac with a horrid thud that shook the pavement and sent her body reeling.

Stars danced behind her eyelids. Horrid shockwaves rattled through the back of her head that was pulsing and igniting in pain and her lungs stopped working. They shuddered in her chest as her lips parted but she couldn't breathe. Her chest had been shocked and her system wasn't working properly.

It took a few agonising seconds for (Y/n) to get her lungs back into working order and she finally sucked in a ragged, gasping breath that made her back pulse and spark and her body jolted and thrashed on the floor.

Her arms that were both pinned to her chest started to shake and she barely felt her right hand move to clench around the radio pinned to her shoulder.

All she could do was scream. No words formulated on her tongue and her eyes wouldn't open. She couldn't move, speak or even breathe properly. All the air (Y/n) sucked in went straight back out into a horrible howl that shook the foundations of the warehouse in front of her.

"(Y/n)?!"

"(Y/n)? Baby what's the matter? What's happened? Baby talk to me!" Terror ransacked Eddie's body and he dropped the CO2 tank in his hand to grab his radio.

Why was she screaming? Why was his wife screaming through the radio frequency? What had she done? She was supposed to be on the rope going down into the second floor. How had she suddenly hurt herself and ended up screaming in agony in Eddie's ears?

"Baby talk to me!" Eddie's eyes darted over to look at Evan before he stared down at his feet and willed his wife to talk. They couldn't help if they didn't know what was going on, where she was or what she had been doing.

When the word "Fell." burst past (Y/n)'s lips in a horrid, bubbling cry, Eddie looked over at Evan. How had she fallen? She should have been tied to a rope, that was the whole point.

Both men took off into a sprint when another cry tore through the radio and made them flinch. The first floor was clear of all fires now, they had gone round putting them out and there was no gas leak on this floor either which was good. They had the chance to bolt down the stairs and through the main floor of the warehouse until they burst through the front doors and looked around.

"Eddie…"

"I'm coming baby, I'm here, I'm here!"

Eddie tore off his helmet, gloves and jacket when his eyes landed on his wife. He sprinted across the pavement while he felt like his heart was trying to break free from his chest to get to her.

He didn't give Evan the chance to kneel down before he grabbed his jacket and gave him a shove in the other direction.

"Get me a medic bag and a back board. Now!" When Evan took off in a sprint, Eddie crashed down to his knees beside (Y/n) who was still screaming with any breaths she could suck in. "Baby… baby it's me. Shh, shh let me look at you, it's alright baby girl."

His hands cupped her face and his thumbs swiped across her cheeks, brushing away some of the tears that were streaking through the soot and dirt clinging to her face. He hated to see her lips curved down and hear the way she cried and clawed for breath.

It was hard to stop his finger from trembling as they tore at her jacket and pushed it off to the sides so he could assess her.

He tried to feel around her neck, down her shoulders and he moved her arms so they were resting at her sides rather than across her chest. When his fingers curled around her left shoulder, (Y/n) saw streaks of white flash across her eyes and she writhed against the floor, choking on a scream.

"Shh… it's broken baby." Eddie moved her left arm so it was back across her chest and tried to keep the joint stiff and in place. Her shoulder had definitely broken and the bone could have shattered for all he knew.

"Here." Evan placed the bag down next to Eddie and left the back board nearby while he knelt down on (Y/n)'s other side.

He reached down to take her right hand in his and started gliding his fingers up and down her arm to try and keep her settled.

"Wiggle your toes for me, good girl." Eddie felt down her legs and slipped his fingers beneath the cuff of her boots to feel her ankles. They didn't feel broken, but he couldn't be sure. He was relieved when (Y/n) bent both her feet back and forth. That proved she didn't have any nerve damage or paralysis and she didn't scream in agony which made him hopeful she didn't have any lasting or serious damage in her legs.

He took the stethoscope out the bag and listened to her heart and then her lungs which all sounded good.

He undid the rope around her waist, throwing it out the way before his fingers pressed beneath her armpits and worked down her sides to check her ribs and her pelvis.

"A few broken ribs, but pelvis is in tact…" Eddie moved his hands to the back of (Y/n)'s head and moved his fingers through her hair. "Small cut to the back of the head."

"Cap, (Y/n)'s had an accident, she's got a lot of trauma we have to take her to the hospital now." Evan kept hold of her hand while he spoke into the radio. Everyone knew she had had a fall, they all heard her screams through the radio. But they had to transfer her to the hospital now and get her seen to.

He looked down at (Y/n) when she let go of his hand and her trembling fingers reached out for Eddie instead. She pinched his hand so tightly he hissed at her sharp nails digging into his skin.

"What is it, baby?"

He didn't know what she was trying to do or tell him until she pressed his hand to her abdomen while her chest shuddered back and forth and spit rolled past her lips. "B-burns… bad."

Eddie's brows furrowed and he carefully untucked her shirt from her trousers and wrenched it up towards her bra. She couldn't have gotten burns on her chest, she was wearing her protective gear and she didn't say anything on the radio about being caught in one of the fires. But when he pressed his fingertips just above her belly button and then around to the sides, she moaned through a sob and began to cough.

"Either internal bleeding or something's ruptured… okay baby, shh it's alright. I'm gonna give you some morphine, then we'll get you to the hospital."

He found a pre-packaged needle in the medic bag and injected the morphine into (Y/n)'s thigh. It wouldn't do much but it would hopefully take the edge off and calm her down until they could get her sedated at the hospital.

"Up on three… one, two, three."

The pair of them tried to be as careful as possible when they eased (Y/n) onto the backboard but they couldn't move her painlessly. Her scream vibrated through the pair of them but they tried to shake it off and move towards the ambulance just as the rest of the team came out the building.

The other station would have to deal with putting out the last of the fires and finish getting that last victim out the building. They had one of their own critically injured and out of action. (Y/n) had to come first.

"I've got you, you're gonna be fine sweet girl, don't worry." Eddie reached down for her hand the moment they had her in the back of the ambulance. He pulled her hand into his chest and kissed her knuckles as Evan climbed in the back with them and shut the doors.

They had to go.

***

Evan pushed off the wall when the waiting room doors opened and Maddie burst through. His big sister ran into the small, secluded room just down the hall from the operating theatre she had been directed to when she got here.

It had been a fright to finish her shift and have Evan call her. Their little sister had been involved in some kind of accident, and now the whole team were waiting at the hospital for any news while she was taken for surgery.

"What happened?" Her arms enveloped around Evan and she leaned her chin up on his shoulder when he bent down to hug her properly. He may be the middle child, but he was by far the tallest out of them all.

She darted her eyes around the team. Hen and Chimney were sat with cups of coffee in their hands, half asleep, half engaged in conversation. Eddie was sat on the other side of the room, hands clasped together with his knees spread wide and his head hung down between his knees. And the new guy who Maddie had yet to meet, was sat near the window with his feet tapping out a tune against the tiles.

"A rope rescue went wrong… s-she fell, we don't know how." Evan kept his arm curled around Maddie before he glanced over at Eddie.

His brother in law had barely spoken since (Y/n) left for X-rays and an MRI and when the doctor told them she was in surgery, it seemed to wash right over Eddie's head.

"Broken shoulder. Six broken ribs, concussion and her intestine ruptured… so she's in surgery to repair it." Eddie's lips stayed pressed against his fingers and his words came out partially muffled, but he knew Maddie had heard him alright.

They were lucky (Y/n) didn't break her neck or her spine with the way she fell and how she landed. But a ruptured intestine was worse than Eddie had been expecting and he wasn't happy. Why had his wife fallen? How had it gone so wrong? It wasn't as if she hadn't done this before, they all had their training and knew what to do. Why did she have to get hurt tonight?

"I'm gonna call Carla, check on Chris."

Eddie pushed up and walked out the waiting room. He didn't want to sit with the team in silence like this. He didn't like it. It was slowly killing him. He needed to see how Chris was doing and make sure he was alright and he had to update Carla on what was happening. It had been bad enough that he had to call her and beg for her to keep Chris with her for the night so Eddie could stay and wait for any updates on (Y/n).

He fished his phone out his pocket and wandered down the hall, turning the corner and jogging down the stairs. But he barely got outside into the fresh air before his eyes locked on Bobby sat down on a bench a few feet away.

The Captain had come outside to make a few calls. He had to know the B shift at the station were coping alright and he had to inform the chief that an accident had happened and injured one of the team. It was even worse that they didn't know how or why this had happened.

Eddie's finger hovered over Carla's contact in his phone, but he stopped when he heard Bobby begin to speak.

"You're sure? Well how the Hell did that happen?"

That didn't sound good. Bobby had his stern voice and a hand on his hip; sure signs that his conversation wasn't about anything good.

"Explain to me how he got the transfer papers and the credentials to get himself on my team if he's had no training and not even passed through the academy?!"

What was he talking about?

Adrenaline pooled in Eddie's stomach and surged up through to his chest when he thought about the only person on the team who had recently been transferred, and who seemed rather clueless.

Blake.

Had he not had any training? How had he not gone through any training? How did he get into the fire station and get the papers to transfer to them if he didn't have any training and didn't pass the academy? That wasn't possible. Everyone was vetted before they got an interview for any station and Bobby wasn't a fool.

Slipping his phone back into his pocket, Eddie turned around and headed back inside.

It felt as if he had tunnel vision, narrowing more and more until all he could see were the stairs ahead of him that would lead back up to the waiting room where the team were. He had to find out what was going on. He had to know if (Y/n)'s fall had anything to do with Blake and if the new recruit was even a recruit at all. Eddie had to know if he really had no training and if he was with them under false pretenses.

Because if he was and this was all true, then he had just risked (Y/n)'s life.

By the time he got into the waiting room, his breathing had turned shallow and his hands were balled into fists at his sides. The only thing he could see was Blake. That scrawny, strange new recruit who was sat with his back up straight and his hands on his knees while his feet tapped against the floor. From a distance, he really looked like he belonged with them, as if he was truly a colleague worried about a friend's welfare.

"That was quick-"

Panic surged through the room when Eddie pushed past Hen and made a beeline for Blake.

As soon as his hands scrunched up in Blake's shirt, Eddie ripped him up from his seat and launched him to the other side of the room. He pushed Blake back until his back and shoulders were pinned up against the wall and his feet were barely touching the floor. Eddie's right arm pressed across his collar bone, digging into the base of his neck making it harder for him to catch a proper breath. Just like (Y/n) had struggled when she fell.

"What did you do to that rope?"

"Eddie what the Hell are you doing?! Get off him." Evan tried to grab Eddie by the shoulders, but he swung his left arm out to push Evan back and bashed his shoulder back to get him off.

"Wow, Eddie calm down-"

"What did you do to it?!"

"I- I don't know." Those three little words infuriated Eddie and he smashed Blake's head back against the wall to try and make him remember what he'd done. He must know something. He must know what he had done wrong up there because (Y/n) was a trained professional. She wouldn't fall for no reason, something had happened to her on that roof.

"Eddie enough!"

Blake slumped down against the wall when Eddie was wrenched off of him and both Hen and Evan tried to hold him at bay. He couldn't just attack one of the team like that. He had to tell them what was going on.

"He's not one of us." He spat the words as if they were vile poison on his tongue and he could feel the sweat rolling down the back of his neck. Eddie could see the panic in Blake's eyes and it made him laugh. A cynical, crooked laugh tore past his lips and he leaned his head back to look up at the ceiling.

"What does that mean?"

"You think Cap hasn't found out by now? He knows you don't have any training. You didn't pass the academy, and yet you're here. So I'll ask again. What did you do to that rope?" Eddie flashed his teeth in a sharp, sideways smirk that had Blake quaking at the knees and his round eyes looked around everyone as if asking for help.

They all wanted an explanation. Everyone wanted to know what was going on and how one of them could go two weeks on the job without any training or qualifications and not get caught out.

"I- I tied it up! S-she asked me to tie it, a-and I thought I did, but I didn't know how it was supposed to go… and she… when she pulled on it, it just came loose. I swear it was an accident!"

He meant no harm.

When (Y/n) asked him to tie the rope, Blake tried his best. But he didn't know how to do a rope rescue, he didn't know how to tie it or which knot to use or how much rope to thread around the chimney to secure it. And when (Y/n) started to thread it through her hands and lower herself down, it came loose.

He tried to grab it but the rope slipped through his gloved hands before he could hold onto it and when he looked down, (Y/n) was already on the floor, screaming through the radio.

It was an accident. Blake never meant to hurt her. He wormed his way into the station because he was desperate to help people, it was all he wanted to do. He didn't care if he didn't know the ways to help, the team had been showing him and he thought that was enough.

He doubled forward with a gasp when Eddie's knee rammed into his stomach. And he cried out when Eddie grabbed him by the shoulders and threw him into the closest chair, watching him crumble to the floor like a piece of paper.

A roaring scream left Eddie's lips when Evan and Chimney threw themselves on top of him and pinned him to the floor.

He bashed his elbows into their sides, scraped his boots against the polished floor and pushed up onto his knees until both men were pinning his arms behind his back like he was under arrest.

"You could have killed my wife! She could have broken her neck because of you. She's in surgery and you think I give a shit whether you tried or not?" Blake could give Eddie all the apologies and sorrows in the world. It would never be enough. Eddie didn't care for apologies when Blake knew what he was doing.

He knew being here without training could put someone in harm's way or potentially kill someone and he did it anyway. And now it was Eddie's wife that was in danger.

"I didn't know-"

"If anything else happens to (Y/n), I will murder you." His words weren't a threat, they were a promise.

If (Y/n) suffered any further complications because of her injuries or God forbid, she died, Eddie wouldn't hesitate. He would find any weapon he could lay his hands on and make Blake pay for this. He wasn't going to let him get away with what he had done tonight.

Every part of Eddie began shaking as he reached for the closest chair and launched it across the room. He held his hands up when Hen and Maddie both stepped in front of him and his eyes just dared one of them to do or say something to let him explode.

"You want some advice?" Evan turned to look at Blake who was slumped on the floor, arms bound around his chest and tears flushing his face. When Blake nodded, Evan crouched down to be level with him and stared into his broken eyes. "Run."

Blake needed no more words than that to scramble onto shaking legs and stumble out of the room.

The 118 was a family. Eddie was (Y/n)’s husband. Evan and Maddie were her older, protective siblings. Hen was like another sister to her and Bobby was a surrogate father to her. None of them would stand for someone walking in and hurting her like this and they weren't going to be kind to Blake after the stunts he had pulled.

He needed to leave before someone hurt him.

As soon as he was out of the room, Eddie tangled both his hands together behind his head and tried to take big, deep breaths. He paced up and down the length of the room while everyone else tried to put the chairs back in order and sit down again.

But he turned to face the door when it opened. He was ready to lash out but he stopped himself when he saw the doctor. Her eyes flitted about the room, clearly knowing something had happened but she didn't dare approach the subject.

"(Y/n) Diaz?"

"Is she alright?"

"Surgery went well, her shoulder is back in place and we've repaired the rupture to her intestine, there should be no lasting damage. You can see her now."

Eddie stormed out the room before the doctor had chance to tell him which room (Y/n) was in. He headed down the hall and slowed down just enough for her to catch him up and direct him to the right room on the left.

He could feel his heart breaking all over again when his eyes locked on his wife. He couldn't quite get the image of her crumpled up on the floor out of his mind. But Eddie wasn't so sure that this image was any better. (Y/n) laid up in a hospital bed, her left arm pinned to her chest in a sling with tape and bandages rolled around her shoulder. An oxygen tube stuck beneath her nose, monitoring wires and stickers beneath her gown. IV canula taped into the back of her right hand.

And he dreaded to think what her abdomen would look like beneath the gown or how the cut looked on the back of her head or how much blood she had lost tonight.

He barely heard the doctor close the door before he moved to sit down on the edge of the bed and lean over. His hands delicately cupped either side of (Y/n)'s face and he pressed a careful kiss to her chapped lips.

"There's my girl. Hey, mi amor." He let his temple rest lightly on hers and he managed to smile when he felt (Y/n)'s hand curl around his wrist.

"I'm sorry."

"Hm, sorry for what baby? You got hurt, you don't have anything to be sorry for." Eddie brushed his thumb across her cheek and pressed another tender kiss to her lips when he felt her hand tighten around his wrist. She had suffered a bad accident, but that was no reason for (Y/n) to be apologising. She hadn't done anything wrong.

"I- I fell… did I… did I do something wrong, with the rope?" Panic burned in (Y/n)'s voice and she could feel her eyes welling up with tears. She'd never had a big accident at work before.

"No, no baby girl you didn't do anything wrong, I swear. I'll explain later, but nothing is your fault. You hear me?"

Eddie wouldn't have (Y/n) believing she had done something wrong when it was someone else who had put her life in danger. Blake had hurt her, badly. He had caused her damage that could well have been irreversable or even fatal. Eddie was lucky to have his wife safe and alive in his arms and he wouldn't have her getting frightened or upset because she thought she hadn't done her job correctly.

The only person at fault was the new recruit, and he wasn't getting away with this.

#eddie diaz x reader #imagine #911 imagine #eddie diaz imagine #eddie x reader #eddie diaz

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