#Also I’ve. Never drawn side profiles or kissing-
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
pantherxdrawz · 1 year ago
Text
⚠️Spoilers! For Master Detective Archives: Rain Code
So you know that scene where Shinigami kisses Yuma/Number One on the cheek right before he uses the emergency exit?
Yeah I decided to redraw that but with my Rain Code swap au and whoops my hand slipped and I accidentally made them kiss on the lips
Tumblr media
also I know Vivia is canonically taller then Yakou he’s levitating here it was on purpose
The original scene for reference:
Tumblr media
11 notes · View notes
azrael-arryn · 2 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Drops this here and leaves
I’ve been obsessing over them recently, first it was Sam x Seb and now it’s this
16 notes · View notes
rafesbabygirlx · 2 months ago
Text
Denied Love - Rafe x Prosecutor Daughter
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
✰Masterlist✰
Summary: Elena is the kook daughter of a high profile prosecutor on the island. One who happened to be close to Sheriff Peterkin. When her father found out the details of how the Cameron’s had a part in her death he had set out to bring them down, Rafe included. What he didn’t expect was for his daughter to fall in love with the Cameron boy. 
A/N: trying a story with names this time. Enjoy :)
Warnings: angst, smut (brief description of missionary)
The night was heavy with tension as Rafe Cameron walked under the flickering streetlight, scanning the empty alley before slipping into the small café where she waited. She was seated in the far corner, her gaze lingering nervously on the doorway until he arrived. She was Elena, the one girl he couldn’t afford to love – the daughter of the prosecutor with a single-minded mission to bring down the Cameron family.
They had met by chance at a charity gala a few months earlier, drawn together by a strange mix of chemistry and defiance. He’d been surprised by her kindness, her sharp wit, her refusal to buy into the caricatures the media painted of the Camerons. And somewhere between her carefully guarded smiles and the quiet strength in her eyes, he found himself helplessly drawn in. He dreaded how Ward still made them go to these events, trying to act like everything was normal after what he had done, but meeting her made him forget all his troubles. 
“Hey,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. He reached out, his fingers brushing hers as they exchanged a fleeting, electric glance.
 “God, how I’ve missed you.” Rafe whispers back as he fully grasps her hand bringing it in for a quick kiss.
Their meetings were risky. If anyone knew about them, her family would never forgive her, and his father would see it as a betrayal. Yet the thrill of the secrecy and the safety they found in each other’s presence was too irresistible. They shared whispered promises and stories that belonged only to them. In these stolen moments, Rafe began to show a side of himself he’d long buried – a version untouched by the violence and chaos his family expected of him. 
She saw the side of him that was vulnerable, just a broken boy who was strained by the need to find approval in his father. He had confided in Elena about everything. It was risky considering who her father was but he felt he had her heart. She also understood how it felt to be put under a microscope by her father and how much pressure came with being the perfect child. She didn’t care about Rafe’s faults when Ward is only to blame. She was falling more in love with the boy every day. 
But the storm was brewing. Each day, Elena’s father inched closer to exposing the secrets of the Cameron family empire, unaware that his daughter was entangled in a secret affair that threatened to unravel his plans. She became good at lying to her overbearing father at a young age about where she’d go. He always set out to make sure Elena would follow in his footsteps, despite her constantly telling him that would never happen. She would make her own path in life and he would have to deal with it. She listened to him in every aspect of her life, except for a future career and apparently keeping away from the Cameron family. 
Every minute that she wasn't at school, she was spending time with Rafe. Getting to know more about him. Getting to know more about the inside of his mouth and how his tongue tasted. She was completely in love with him. They spent countless hours driving around the island, spent nights on her boat. Her dad never showed any interest in her friends, even as a prosecutor, he’d never bombard her with questions about who she was with. 
Late one night, Rafe and Elena lay tangled in the quiet intimacy of her bed, the moonlight casting soft silver streaks across her room and her parents were out for the night. His arm was draped over her waist, her head resting against his chest as their breaths fell into a rhythm, as if their hearts beat as one. The world outside her window was silent, but inside, the weight of unspoken truths pressed heavily between them.  
“Elena,” Rafe murmured, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on her arm, “tell me you want this as much as I do.”  
She tilted her face up to look at him, her eyes dark and filled with the mix of love and anguish that had become all too familiar. “I do,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “But at what cost?” Her words lingered in the air, and he felt the ache of them deep in his chest. He tightened his hold on her as if the simple act could shield them from the storm that was waiting to tear them apart.  
“We can figure this out,” he said, his voice firm but laced with desperation. “We just have to hold on to each other. That has to be enough.”  
She let out a soft, bitter laugh, the sound muffled against his chest. “You think love is enough to fix everything? To make our families forget the years of resentment? To make my father let go of his plans for me? Or yours for you?”  
Rafe turned onto his side, cupping her face in his hand, forcing her to meet his gaze. “It is enough, Elena. Because it has to be. I don’t know how to exist without you anymore.”  
Her lip trembled, and she tried to look away, but he held her steady. “You’ll have to,” she said, though the words cracked as she spoke them. “You know what happens if they find out. Your family… my father…”  
“I’ve already made my choice,” he said softly. “I choose you, Elena. Every time.”  
Her breath hitched, and tears welled in her eyes and she sat up, Rafe following. “You say that now, but what happens when they make you choose for real? What happens when it’s not just you and me in this bed, but the whole world waiting to rip us apart?”  
“I’ll still choose you,” he said without hesitation. “Over and over. Forever.”  
Her hand found his, her fingers lacing tightly with his. “Forever sounds like a dream,” she murmured.  
“It’s not a dream,” he said. “It’s a promise.”  
She closed her eyes, her forehead pressing against his as the tears slipped free. “And what if it costs us everything?”  
He kissed her, slow and deep, pouring every ounce of his love into the gesture. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against hers. “Then let it. Because you are my everything, Elena.”  
As their lips separated, Elena's eyes locked onto Rafe's, her gaze filled with a mixture of tears and desire. The moonlight streaming through the window illuminated the tears that clung to her lashes, making them sparkle like diamonds. "You're really going to choose me, no matter what?" she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.
Rafe nodded, his eyes burning with intensity. The shadows cast by the flickering candlelight danced across his face, highlighting the determination etched onto his features. "I am," he said, his voice low and firm. "I already have. And I'll choose you again and again, until the end of time."
Elena's lips curled into a weak smile, her eyes shining with tears as she traced the contours of his face with her fingertips. "You're crazy, you know that?"
Rafe's lips quirked into a half-smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Maybe," he said, his voice laced with humor. "But I'm your crazy."
Their lips met again, the kiss deepening as their passion surged to the surface. Elena's hands tangled in Rafe's hair, pulling him closer as she arched her back, her body begging for his touch. The soft fabric of her nightgown rubbed against his skin, the sensation sending shivers down his spine.
Rafe complied, his hands sliding under her nightgown, his fingers tracing patterns on her skin as he explored every inch of her. Elena's moans of pleasure filled the air, her body responding to his touch with an intensity that left them both breathless. The sound of their passion echoed through the room, the air thick with the scent of their desire.
Rafe never made love before. Quick hookups don’t usually entail that type of detail. But this was different. Elena was different. He wanted to take his time with her and he desired to make her feel good. She slowly pulled off her nightgown, revealing her naked body as she laid back down on the bed. Rafe, mirroring her actions, pulled off his sweatpants and climbed on top of her, their bodies now aligned.
 He took a deep breath, savoring the moment, and began to make love to her. With deliberate care, he moved his hips slowly, giving her time to adjust to his size and intensity. He wanted to make sure she felt comfortable and enjoyed every second of their intimate encounter.
As their passion reached its peak, Rafe's hands moved lower, his fingers seeking out the spot that made her tremble, rubbing slow circles to match the pace of his hips.. Elena's body convulsed with her orgasm, her screams of pleasure echoing through the room as her nails dug into his skin. Rafe followed, his own release washing over him as he whispered filthy, dirty words into her ear. 
"I'll choose you, Elena. Always."
As they caught their breath, Rafe's hands continued to explore Elena's body, his fingers tracing the curves of her hips, the dip of her waist, and the swell of her breasts. Elena's skin was warm to the touch, her body still trembling with the aftershocks of their passion.
Their lips met again, the kiss slower and more tender this time. Rafe's tongue traced the contours of Elena's mouth, his hands cradling her face as he deepened the kiss. Elena's body responded to his touch, her breasts pressing against his chest, her hips rocking gently against his.
As they lay entwined in each other's arms, Rafe whispered words of love and devotion into Elena's ear. The shadows cast by the moonlight danced across her face, highlighting the soft curves of her cheeks and the curve of her smile. "You are my everything, Elena. And nothing will ever change that."
Elena's eyes met his, her gaze filled with a mixture of love and anguish. Her fingers traced the contours of his face, her touch gentle and reassuring. "And you are mine," she whispered back. "Forever."
The room was silent except for the sound of their breaths, the world outside forgotten for this one fragile moment. They both knew the risks, the sacrifices that lay ahead. But for now, they clung to each other, hoping against hope that love could truly conquer all.
Rafe had also acted out something he’s never done before by helping Elena clean herself up and get back dressed. He pulled back on his sweatpants and they cuddled once again. He usually leaves the same night out her window but the intimate moments that just transpired had caused them to become sleepy and they fell asleep wrapped in each other's arms. 
You were startled awake by your father’s voice.  
“What the hell is this?!” he roared, his booming voice shaking the walls as he stormed into your room.  
You scrambled upright, the sheets tangling around you as you leaped out of bed. Rafe sat up quickly, his face pale but defiant as your father’s piercing glare bore into him.  
“Daddy, please, let me explain,” you begged, your voice trembling as you stepped between them.  
“Explain?” your father thundered, his face a deep shade of red. “What is *he* doing in your room? In your *bed*?” His eyes flicked to Rafe, narrowing with fury. “Do you have any idea what this means? What you’ve done?”  
“Sir, I—” Rafe began, his voice calm but steady.  
“Don’t you dare speak!” your father snapped, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “You think you can just waltz into my house, into my daughter’s room, and—”  
“Stop!” you cried, your voice breaking as you grabbed your father’s arm. “You don’t understand! It’s not what you think.”  
He turned to you, his expression a mixture of anger and betrayal. “Then explain it to me, Elena. Because right now, it looks like you’ve decided to throw away everything we’ve worked for—everything—for *him.*”  
“I love him, Daddy,” you said, the words spilling out before you could stop them.  
The room fell into a stunned silence. Rafe’s eyes widened slightly, and your father froze, his expression darkening further.  
“Love?” he repeated, his tone dripping with disbelief. “You think this is love? This… betrayal?”  
“It’s not a betrayal!” you shot back, your voice trembling but firm. “I didn’t choose to fall in love with him. It just… happened. And I won’t apologize for it.”  
“Then you’re a fool,” your father said coldly, his words cutting like a knife. “Do you have any idea what you’re risking? What he’s risking? Do you think his family will stand for this? Do you think your mother and I will?”  
Rafe finally spoke, his voice measured but resolute. “With all due respect, sir, I don’t care what anyone thinks. I love your daughter, and I’ll do whatever it takes to be with her.”  
Your father’s laugh was bitter and sharp. “Is that so? And how long do you think this will last once the reality of your choices comes crashing down? Love doesn’t pay debts, doesn’t mend bridges. It destroys them.”  
“Daddy, stop,” you pleaded, tears brimming in your eyes. “Please. Just listen to me.”  
He turned to you, his expression softening for a brief moment as he saw the pain in your eyes. “Elena,” he said, his tone quieter but no less intense. “You don’t understand what you’re getting into. This will destroy us. Our family, our future—it’s all at stake.”  
“I know what’s at stake,” you said, your voice steady now. “But I’m not a little girl anymore, Daddy. You can’t control who I love.”  
He stared at you, his jaw tight as he struggled to find the words. Finally, he shook his head, his voice heavy with resignation. “You’re making a mistake. And when it all falls apart, don’t come to me looking for help.”  
He turned and stormed out, leaving the door wide open behind him. You stood there, trembling, as the sound of his footsteps faded down the hall.  
Rafe stepped off the bed and came to you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Are you okay?”  
You shook your head, the tears you’d been holding back finally spilling over. “No,” you whispered. “But I don’t regret choosing you.”  
He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as you cried into his chest. The storm was far from over, but in that moment, you knew you’d face it together.
The wind picked up outside, almost like it sensed the energy radiating from Elena’s room, carrying the scent of salt and the promise of an incoming storm. They stood there, two souls tethered together, caught in a battle between their love and the lives they’d always known. Neither spoke, but their hearts screamed the same question into the night: Was love worth losing everything?
80 notes · View notes
99tech99 · 6 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
A/N: Again, scene from a longer fic. Reader is with Thrawn and Krennic is jealous, but, much like little boys on the playground who pull girls’ pigtails, Krennic has no idea what to do with his emotions.
Also, I feel like this ends sort of abruptly. I know what the next scene is, and I’ve written a chunk of it, but idk, I feel like it should be separate. If you have any thoughts one way or the other, lmk!
WARNINGS: toxic Krennic (is that a warning tho? or a siren song?), angsty Krennic, jealous Krennic, toxic Krennic, manipulative Krennic, lying Krennic, slutty thots Krennic, did i mention Krennic is low key toxic?
2.5k words under cut. (is this the longest scene i’ve posted so far??)
He had forgotten to put away the carved relief. Krennic kicked himself mentally. A single glance at one kriffing piece of artwork and Thrawn would think he knew everything there was to know about a person. In anticipation of this obnoxious habit, Krennic had put away his modest collection of art before the dinner party. All but one. Naturally Thrawn was drawn to it immediately like a…fucking blue moth to a flame. Krennic was too irritated even to think of a more insulting remark.
It wasn’t even valuable, not by Krennic’s definition anyway. He wasn’t even sure what planet it was from. It was just an ancient raised carving of a battle. Krennic had merely appreciated the detail in the weaponry.
And there you were next to him. The two of you were clearly discussing the relief. You were resplendent in a backless red gown. Your hair was in soft curls, gathered in front of one shoulder as not to obscure any sight of your bare skin. Krennic hoped the front of your dress plunged as deeply as the back. To his absolute fury and acute embarrassment he felt a tightness in the front of his pants. He struggled to get a mental grip on himself.
Thrawn leaned down slightly, saying something to you in a low voice Krennic couldn’t hear. The delicate bangles on your arm sparkled brilliantly as you reached up to gently touch his shoulder. You turned to him, laughing, a dazzling smile lighting your profile. Thrawn smiled. Krennic hadn’t even been aware Chiss were physically capable of smiling. You stood on tiptoe, tilting your face toward Thrawn’s. He bent toward you a bit more, giving you a brief but tender kiss. That does it, Krennic decided.
“Admiral,” Krennic said coming up on your left side. “Enjoying the art show?”
You both turned to Krennic. Thrawn might be oblivious, but you knew he was interrupting on purpose. His eyes briefly flicked up and down your body. The front of your dress did not disappoint. It plunged practically to your naval and the floral embroidery over the sheer fabric left very little to the imagination.
“Art?” Thrawn repeated in his velvet tone. He glanced around Krennic’s opulent apartment. “I would be very much surprised to see anything here that might be classified as art.”
You scoffed and quickly took a sip of your wine to try to cover.
Krennic clenched his left hand so tightly you could hear his knuckles crack. “It’s a pity you seemed to have missed your calling as an art critic, Admiral. Will you excuse us?” Without waiting for an answer he steered you away by your elbow.
“Enjoying yourself?” he asked bitterly.
“Yes,” you said genuinely. “I honestly would have never guessed it, but you’re an excellent host. I’m always impressed whenever you entertain.”
He was taken aback by the sincerity of your compliment. He had wanted to take out his temper on you. Though, upon any thought at all, Krennic realized that would backfire, driving you straight back into Thrawn’s arms.
“What did you need, Krennic?” you asked without any of your signature impatience or sarcasm.
How did you always manage to catch him off guard? He assumed you would be annoyed with him for taking you away from Thrawn. But for once you were keeping your tongue in check, and he had no idea how to respond. Could Thrawn possibly make you that happy?
“I have a critical update on Project Stardust,” he invented quickly.
“Ooh!” Your eyes grew wide. “But I don’t have my datapad or anything at the moment. How urgent is it? Shall we go to your study?”
“No, no, it can wait until afterwards. I just didn’t want you and Thrawn to uh—slip out before I had a chance to speak with you. Go, enjoy your evening. Everyone should be gone by midnight. We can talk then.”
“Oh,” You glanced back at Thrawn. Your earrings caught the light as you turned your head. They matched your bracelets. Krennic wondered if your jewelry was yet another gift from Thrawn.
“Unless your recreational plans take precedent,” he said sarcastically.
You let out a small sigh. “No, it’s just…The Chimera is deploying tomorrow. But alright. We’ll talk later.” You forced a smile back onto your face as you walked back to Thrawn.
Krennic watched for Thrawn’s reaction when you told him you wouldn’t be able to go home with him that evening.
Thrawn smiled again and shook his head as he replied to you. Perhaps, Krennic thought sarcastically, he was reassuring you he didn’t mind your sudden work obligations. You still looked concerned. He kissed your forehead. Thrawn briefly made eye contact with Krennic over your head as the two of you turned to join the rest of the guests. As usual, his face was inscrutable.
Krennic had succeeded in ruining Thrawn’s evening, possibly even putting a damper on his whole deployment, Krennic thought hopefully. Now, however, he was faced with the issue of fabricating some complication with Stardust. He pondered this in the back of his mind as he turned on his signature charm the rest of the evening.
By the time you and Thrawn were the last people left, he still hadn’t created a Stardust problem. Krennic busied himself at the bar pouring himself a glass of whiskey and took a sip. He didn’t feel like watching Thrawn tongue fuck you goodbye. He heard the door close. He looked up.
“Alright,” you said, striding toward him. You were smiling. It was happy, sincere. Krennic’s stomach lurched. Then he realized it wasn’t for him, it was lingering from Thrawn.
He finished the glass.
That dress. Always you and your dresses. Why did Thrawn allow you to parade your tits around like that? Krennic hoped you weren’t wearing anything underneath. Fuck. Maybe the whiskey wasn’t such a a good idea. He poured a second glass and downed it.
You raised your eyebrows. “Aren’t we supposed to be working?”
Krennic poured yet another two fingers and slid the glass along the counter to you. You hesitated, then picked it up. Gingerly you smelled the amber liquid and wrinkled your nose. You looked at Krennic. He had an amused expression on his face.
“Try it,” he instructed.
“Aren’t we supposed to be working?” you repeated.
“My project, my home, my rules,” Krennic replied lightly.
You had already had a few glasses of wine. But you raised the glass to your lips and took a sip. You coughed and choked. “That is absolutely awful!” you gasped. “It’s still burning!”
Krennic laughed. “I suppose it is an acquired taste.”
“If I hadn’t just watched you drink a glass yourself, I’d think you were trying to poison me!” you said, laughing too.
You slid the glass back across the counter.
Krennic gave you an appraising look. Without saying a word, he turned to the bar and selected a crystal champagne glass rimmed with gold. He bent down and extracted a bottle from the back of his wine cooler. He uncorked it expertly and filled the flute. This time he handed it directly to you.
The champagne was clear and seemed to emit a soft golden glow.
“It’s too pretty to drink,” you commented, holding the glass up to admire the bubbles dancing inside, glittering as they caught the light.
Krennic laughed. “It’s ten thousand credits a bottle, you better drink it.”
Your eyes grew huge. “Ten thousand…??”
Krennic extended his tumbler. “To the most expensive drink you’ve ever had?” You laughed again and gently touched your glass to his. “By far. Cheers.”
You took a sip. You looked at Krennic in delight. “This is the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted!”
“It’s strong,” he cautioned as you eagerly took another sip.
“Then you better hurry up and tell me the update with Stardust while I can still think clearly,” you said, a hint of your usual impatience back in your voice.
Shit.
“I’ll get my datapad,” he said and retreated to the study. He quickly copied a segment of data onto a new data card. Careful to isolate only the files he had extracted, Krennic typed in a kill code.
He sighed dramatically as he brought the datapad to the counter. “Erso messaged me earlier. There was some kind of fatal systems error at Eadu. Significant portions of the weapons calculation data were wiped.”
“Kriff! Krennic this is not an update, this is a karking disaster!”
“I know, I know. Fortunately, however, Erso was able to restore the majority from memory and his own personal files. But I think this particular equation, you had done a lot of work on.” He handed you the datapad.
You set down the champagne. “Yes, this looks familiar.” Krennic studied your face as you scrolled. “I remember doing significant work on this, but I don’t remember what final numbers yielded the proper results.” You looked at him with a pained expression. “I’m sure I can duplicate this, it will just take a while.”
Krennic almost felt bad but his guilt quickly evaporated.
You shook your hair behind you, extending your back in a graceful arch. You twisted your hair into a knot, up and out of the way. “Go get another datapad. I’ll work on the equation and you run the sims,” you instructed.
Krennic realized his mouth was slightly open and closed it. “How did you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Your hair…?” He would never be able to explain why, but watching you put your hair up so effortlessly was one of the most mesmerizing things he had ever witnessed.
You gave him a coy smile. “Secret,” you said mischievously. “Now go get me another datapad.”
He complied. He studied your profile as you kept reworking the equation. For about an hour the two of you worked. Every now and then, especially after an unsuccessful simulation, you continued to sip from your glass. You didn’t seem to notice Krennic had refilled it.
By now your hair was slowly coming undone. It hung in gentle tendrils around your face. Without thinking, he raised his hand, tucking a strand behind your ear. You looked at him in surprise. He took a step closer. Slowly he tilted you chin up kiss you. You didn’t pull away. He pressed his lips to yours. To his immeasurable elation, you were kissing him back, hard. Without breaking apart, his hands on your waist, he led you to one of the long, low couches in the sitting room. Your hands were wandering up his arms, on his chest, unbuttoning his pants. He sank onto the couch, pulling you with him so that he was between your thighs. He needed to be inside you so badly…
“Krennic!”
He was jerked back to reality.
“What?” he asked.
It was clear he hadn’t been paying attention to a word you had said. Genuine concern flickered across your face. “Are you alright? You’ve been acting very odd the entire evening.”
He didn’t know how to answer you. No, he wasn’t alright. He was never alright when he was with you. He had never met anyone so insolent and alluring. He never knew if he wanted to strangle you or kiss you. The only easy thing he could count on was the consistent contempt you had shown for him. Except tonight…
You were still waiting for his answer.
“Just thinking…We need to look into the error at Eadu. Erso said it was an internal systems error, but we shouldn’t rule out sabotage or an external hacking attempt.”
Your eyes widened at the thought. “Oh, that didn’t occur to me! Yes, it is imperative Galen investigate that.”
Suddenly you gasped. “I think I got it!” you exclaimed. You recited the specs for Krennic to input. He ran the simulation. It was successful.
You looked at him with a look of pure joy on your face. Then, as though it were the most natural thing in the world, like you had done it a thousand times before, you held his face in your hand and kissed him.
Krennic was absolutely stunned.
You were still smiling for a fraction of a second before you realized what had happened. It was clear you had shocked even yourself. For a moment you stood frozen, your mouth open in a perfect O.
“I’m sorry!” you exclaimed, your face rapidly growing pink. “I didn’t mean—I don’t know—The champagne—“ He had never seen you look so much as uncomfortable, let alone embarrassed. “I’m sorry,” you repeated.
Hastily, you turned to leave. Krennic grabbed your hand. His dwarfed yours by comparison. He traced a soft circle on the back of your hand with his thumb. You raised your gaze to meet his. He could see your rapid pulse in your neck.
He took a step closer. “Don’t be.” His husky voice held a low, rich quality. His eyes searched your face, flickering to your lips.
You stood rooted to the spot. Krennic caught the scent of your perfume. It was intoxicating. For a long moment the two of you just stood there, waiting, even hoping, for the other to do something.
Suddenly you jumped slightly. “Thrawn—“ you started abruptly.
“Of course.” Krennic released your hand and attempted to assume a casual air. “I’ll call a Death Trooper to escort you home. Or wherever,” he added through gritted teeth. “Good night, Senator.”
“Good night, Krennic.”
Once you had closed the door, it took all of what little self-restraint Krennic possessed not to hurl his whiskey across the room. He could have had you. There was no reason for Thrawn to expect you home tonight. You were torn. You were drunk. You were standing there waiting for him to do something. You would have given yourself to him, he was sure of it, and yet he let you walk out the door.
What the fuck was wrong with him? Forgetting he was holding the tumbler, he slammed his fist on the counter. It shattered, slicing deeply into his palm. A stream of expletives exploded from his mouth. He tied a napkin around his hand to try to stem the flow of blood.
The throbbing pain sobered him a little. Maybe it was better this way. With more time and Thrawn gone, he could make it seem like it was your idea. You had kissed him after all. Well, it was hardly a proper kiss, but still, it had been you. He was still fuming but some of his anger was slipping away. Yes, this was definitely better. He honestly didn’t know what Thrawn would do if Thrawn thought he took advantage of you when you were drunk. He had the sudden mental image of the Chimera descending on his loft apartment, weapons blazing.
While he was brooding, Krennic suddenly became aware you had left your comm on the counter. A deliciously wicked thought crossed his mind. Making a mental note of exactly where it had been left, he picked it up and extracted the data card from inside.
Turning it over in his fingers he considered. Surely you had sent Thrawn a few…discreet messages to tide him over while he was away. He had behaved himself tonight. He deserved something, if he wasn’t impaling you on his cock at this precise moment.
Perhaps this night wouldn’t be quite a total loss after all, he thought.
The Dress
Back to the Master List
Tag List! Message me to be added!
@znerac
@msjackson1073
@sinker003
@empresskrennic
@shelveddoll
@traveller-of-word-and-screen
@perfecttimemachinestranger
@allthebestscreennamesaregone63
@dinathalawriter
@missunsympathetic
@starladyy
@enaelyork
@hottpinkpenguin
@starwh0ers
39 notes · View notes
theroomofreq · 3 years ago
Note
can you give me muggle jily recs pleaaseeee <3 :D
HOW MANY HIGH-QUALITY MUGGLE JILY FICS ARE THERE?? TOO MANY TO COUNT. *cracks knuckles* BUT I am here for the challenge. Jily AUs are my JAM.
Again, shoutout to our amazing @jilyarchive friends who tag every wonderful muggle jily au they come across. here is the link that will take you to their tags page. You'll find links to specific tropes and AUs :')
I've searched through my own AO3 bookmarks and history tabs, and I present to you 28 jily muggle fics that I LOVE. I am THRILLED thinking about all the good things in store for those that read these wonderful stories. This list took me ages to make because I went through and reread most of these brilliant fics. Happy reading !! xx
properly improper by @lizardcookie
“Marry me,” Mr. Potter repeats, closing the distance between them by striding back up towards the sofa, only to stop and crouch to one knee right there at her feet, looking up at her. Burning. “Pick me,” he elaborates. “Pick me, choose me, love me instead.”
- this fic is the reason why I comment the way that I do (spoiler it's because it's amazing)
The Wedding Ring by @mppmaraudergirl
What is undeniably worse than attending your sister's wedding looking as desolate and forgotten as a wilted houseplant? Drunkenly ringing your ex-boyfriend and asking him to be your date.
- SOBS UNCONTROLLABLY AT THE PERFECTION
Oh my god, they were ROOMMATES by @magic-girl-in-a-muggle-world
Silly one-shot, Muggle AU with Fem!Jily as pining roommates and Marlene as their matchmaker.
- the fic that brought me back to jily and inspired my deep obsession of fem!jily
Swipe Right, Swing Left by @downn-in-flames
The unspoken rule of using dating apps in D.C. is that you always start with where you work.
James Potter, it seems, never picked up on that one.
- giddy just thinking about this gem
'Tis the Damn Season by @petalstofish
It doesn't feel like Christmas for Lily Evans, not after losing her parents to COVID before the Holiday season. She anticipates spending Christmas all alone until a boy from her past shows up and offers her a mutually benefiting deal that has her calling him 'babe' just for the weekend. 'Tis the damn season, after all.
- cries in respect for lyrical writing
Watch Me Unwind by @maraudersftw
Lily Evans hates her job, hates the bigoted customers she has to serve as a bartender at the richest club in the city. But the one person who makes bearing all of it worth it has someone else in his arms tonight. (Rated: M)
- obsessed with the way the plot jumps around the time line in this
oil be there for you by @abby10fanfic
Texting/Social Media AU: Lily and James haven't spoken for 2 years. But that's all about to change thanks to Peter and his involvement in an essential oil pyramid scheme. Featuring boss babes, toxin-free lifestyles, binding contracts, and a very oily journey.
- YOU WOULD NOT BELIEVE HOW FAB THIS IS
a matchmaking mission by @downn-in-flames
James Potter has a mission: get Sirius Black and Remus Lupin to finally admit that they both fancy the pants off each other by Valentine's Day.
His partner in crime? Lily Evans, Remus' flatmate, who he also happens to be slightly in love with
- DOUBLE the amount of pining idiots in love :")
about time by @jilyss
'sure, yeah, I can accompany you to that black tie event for your work tonight. wait. why are we on a red carpet?'
- this is my emotional comfort fic, your honor
whiskey business by @elanev91
Sirius Black has a (bad?) habit of picking up hobbies that take over his and James' flat -- this most recent one? Homemade vodka that James now has to try and peddle to everyone in the building.
- hysterical! must read!
Fashion Disaster by @maraudersftw
James Potter is roped into an awful dare by his best-mate, which involves him wearing atrocious pieces of clothing for all days until Christmas as dictated by Sirius. If this wasn't terrible enough, he now has to contend with his maddening crush on the beautiful saleswoman at the clothing store.
- classic hijinks that I live for
it wasn't a pity invite by @elanev91
Part of the December "Winter Tropes" Jily challenge. Prompt: my family invites you to join our holiday meal as an obvious setup and omG i’m so sorry
- awkward Christmas date that owns my heart
spice and honey by @clare-with-no-i
tagging along with her food reporter sister to profile James Potter, London's hottest young chef, is not how Lily Evans pictured her Monday going - especially if he's anything like Petunia’s described.
needless to say, she's in for a whirlwind at Chez Maraudeur.
- I'm one re-read away from printing this out and putting it on my bookshelf.
Waffle Wars by @elanev91
There's only one waffle maker in the dining hall and it literally always breaks. So, naturally, the only reasonable course of action is to meticulously map out when it's working and, ultimately, do a heist.
- the witty narration in this fic can not be matched
You Can Hear It In The Silence by @alrightginger
Lily is non-verbal and deaf in a world where the things your soulmate says about you end up written on your skin. She has known about her soulmate since she was seven, but knows they don't have a clue she exists and possibly never will.
- exquisite, cue me sobbing forever
out the window by @displayheartcode
A new family moves to Ottery St Catchpole.
- everything I could ever want in a fic, forever in my mind rent free
The Christmas Guest by @thegodmachine
An Evans Family Christmas: Petunia is bringing her fiancé and Lily is bringing her…Friend…
- petunia pov that gives me WINGS
Football, Calculus, and Cappuccinos by @moonawrites
At eighteen years old, James Potter has a lot going on. He's a rising star navigating the politics of professional football, the pitfalls of sudden fame, the fallout from choosing his dream over his father's company... and a serious crush on the red headed new barista at his favourite coffee shop.
- I'm still working my way through this fic, but trust me when I say its a GEM
if u like pina coladas by @zephyrcove
Lily is desperate for a date to Petunia's wedding, James has been pining, and their friends meddle ;)
- explain to me how characters can be so perfect via texting fics?
Shelf Awareness by @ghostofbambifanfiction
It's too far out of her way and she's wasting so much money, but Lily can't help but return to the bookstore every weekend, where her passion for good literature has, perhaps, been unexpectedly reignited by the messy-haired, pun-making, rather handsome bloke who works there.
- you absolutely must know that I binge read this and then immediately REREAD it
How to win a witch in 10 days by @adenei
“She’s going to find some unsuspecting wizard, get him to fall for her, and then do all the things that turn men away to get him to break things off! Won’t it be the best way to see what witches do that drives men crazy?” But what happens when the man in question is a blast from Lily Evans's past? A Jily Magical AU based on the romantic comedy "How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days."
- fic based off of a rom com? YES PLZ :’)
The Fight Before Christmas by @ghostofbambifanfiction
The heartwarming Christmas tale of Lily Evans and James Potter - two plucky kids who hated one other, until the day they really, really didn't.
- complete sucker for this one
All This Time by @thejilyship
James and Lily grew up next door to one another. Their bedroom windows giving them glimpses into the others life, and also offering prime opportunities to argue with each other over every little thing. They never figured out how to be friends when they were kids, but now that they've graduated from college and are home for the summer, they have a second chance to get things right.
- one of my favvvv tropes
Let Me Love You by @thejilyship
With only a month until she's set to take the throne of Gryffindor, Lily is informed that she'll have to get married or choose to give up her throne. She never thought she'd have to even entertain the idea of an arranged marriage. Enter, James Potter.
- cries in princess diares AU
The Fabulous Baker Brothers by @frustratedpoetwrites
Lily walks a different route home from work and stumbles upon a cute little Bakery with an even cuter baker in the window.
- yes yes yes to embarrassed pining.
Marigold Mornings by @mppmaraudergirl
This is a fun game she thinks, as she removes her hand from his side and reaches up to run it down his chest.  He catches her hand in his own, takes a step forward so that her nose nearly brushes against his shirt. She can feel the heat radiating off of him—or maybe it’s from her. He licks his lips and her eyes are drawn to the motion.  She knows it is a bad idea, absolutely knows it.
- incredible storytelling featuring dynamic characters :') a favvv
Welcome to Pettyville by@women-inthe-sequel @alrightginger
When Lily Evans accidentally sends a text to the wrong number, she isn’t expecting to find the right person behind it. She can’t stop talking to Prongs. The only thing is, Prongs can’t stop talking about the girl in his class. What could go wrong, other than the number?
- LOVE SQUARE ANYONE
The Kiss a Stranger Project by @alrightginger
“What’s your name, then?” she asks, realizing they haven’t even properly introduced themselves yet. She nervously crosses her arms.
You shouldn’t kiss a guy without knowing his name first.
Right?
- THIS ONE WILL LIVE IN MY MIND FOREVER
270 notes · View notes
fortheloveofwonderland · 4 years ago
Text
Reid My Lips - Spencer Reid x fem! Reader
Tumblr media
A/N - on the twelth and FINAL day of shipmas fortheloveofcriminalminds gave to me…Spencer x Reader Fluff! Hope you guys enjoyed them, I had a lot of fun writing these! Find my Shipmas masterlist here. Find my full masterlist here.
My taglists are open for Spencer x Reader and all works so let me know if you want to be added. Requests are also open.
Requested: Yes l No l Kind of ?
Idea came from @andiebeaword as I was struggling to come up with something that wasn't either angsty or smutty! - "What about one where they're dating, but haven't kissed yet, and every time reader tries, for some bizarre reason, Spencer keeps dodging them. reader thinks he's trying a subtle way to say he doesn't want to kiss when in reality, he just doesn't want reader to think he's a bad kisser" - Set circa s15, some spoilers for the last 2 episodes.
CW: none that I can think of! Just lusting after Spencer's lips. Some talks of Spencer's insecurites and lack of experience.
Plot: In which all the reader wants in the world is to feel Spencer's lips on hers.
WC: 2.4K
—————————————————————
Spencer Reid’s lips were the kind they would have written poetry about.
They were plump, sinfully so, the first time you’d met him several years ago when you joined the team it was the first thing you’d noticed about him. How it didn’t seem fair for him have had lips such as these bestowed upon him. He had the most kissable lips you’d ever seen in your life.
If you were a writer and not a profiler, you may well have tried to write a poem about them. But alas, a wordsmith you were not. So you had to make do with just staring at them every available opportunity you got.
When he’d finally plucked up the courage to ask you on a date after six years of working together you were thrilled to say the least. Finally, after all that time imaging what those lips would feel like, you might actually get to see for yourself.
For your first date Spencer took for you dinner at a fancy restaurant. Despite the fact you had known each other so long, the date was awkward.
Usually, you never struggled to find things to talk to Spencer about. Most of the time while the rest of the team were sleeping on the jet the two of you stayed up chatting aimlessly between you.
But somehow when the word date was used, it made everything uncomfortable between the two of you.
The night started as a long, drawn out silence but thankfully you both eased into it and by the time your main courses came you were able to chat a little more freely.
You’d had dinner together countless times over the years. But that was just as friends. Not as two people who were clearly attracted to one another even though deep down that’s what you’d always been.
Spencer walked you home after dinner. It was a mild night and you didn’t live too far from the restaurant so you thought the walk would be nice.
The first few blocks you fell back into that uncomfortable silence but thankfully you found your voices again.
Despite everything, you’d had a great time and you’d hoped Spencer had too.
As you stood awkwardly on the sidewalk outside your apartment you were desperate for him to kiss you. He wasn’t quite so shy and dorky as he had been when you first met so you’d thought he might make the first move.
He did not.
“Goodnight Y/N. I’ll see you Monday.” He offered you one of his shy waves.
No, this would not do. You’d been dreaming about those lips too long. It was time to do something about it.
You moved in close, your eyes closing as you neared his lips.
But what met your lips wasn’t his own. You felt prickly skin and your eyes shot open to see her had turned his head and your lips had landed on his stubble grazed face.
“Uhm…” you stepped back feeling incredibly uncomfortable. “Goodnight then I guess.”
You chalked it up to shyness. You guessed thirty plus years of insecurities couldn’t be washed away in a three month prison stint.
***
The next time an opportunity presented itself to steal a kiss from Spencer was a few weeks later.
You were out of town on a case and he’d invited you to his room to watch Doctor Who. You’d thought or maybe hoped it was just an excuse to get you alone in his room. You were surprised to say the least when he actually wanted to watch Doctor Who.
You sat side by side on his bed watching the small hotel TV. You dared to shuffle your hand closer until your fingers brushed and eventually you’d taken the plunge and entwined your fingers.
He didn’t seem to mind, he just gave your hand a firm squeeze as he held it.
About half way through the episode you decided to go for the kiss. You were desperate to feel those lips on yours and you hoped whatever awkwardness he felt on your date had since washed away.
You turned to face him, momentarily breathless at how beautiful he was.
“Spence,” you whispered prompting him to turn and face you.
He had a dopey half smile on those lips as he looked at you. You moved quickly, closing the space ready to feel those lips.
But once again you were met with his stubbly cheek.
You tried to tell yourself he was shy. That’s all it was. It’s not that he didn’t want to kiss you. It couldn’t be, right?
***
You’d started to think maybe Spencer had changed his mind about the two of you dating. It had been several weeks since your first date and although you’d been busy with back to back cases there had been time if he’d really wanted to take you out again.
It was nearly a month after your first date he finally asked you on a second. You’d jumped at the opportunity.
Spencer took you to the Smithsonian, you’d walked around hand in hand with Spencer telling you all kinds of facts and statistics the institution didn’t share.
You hung off his every word, mesmerised by the way his lips moved as he talked and wanting to feel them on yours with a white hot passion.
He took you for coffee after and you fell into comfortable conversation. But you couldn’t keep your eyes off those goddamn lips of his.
As you stepped out of the coffee shop hand in hand you made a quick move to place a chaste kiss on his lips as he was in the middle of telling you a story about his mom. You thought if you were fast enough he wouldn’t even see it coming and you could just get this awkward air out of the way.
You leant in fast, and as your lips were about to collide Spencer side stepped, turning to face the window of the coffee shop.
You stumbled, correcting yourself before you fell face first on the sidewalk.
“I didn’t know they had donuts! Now I want a donut.” He chuckled and suddenly he was heading back inside.
“Goddamnit Spencer.” You groaned under your breath.
By now you were starting to think he just didn’t like you. Why else would he keep dodging your attempts at kissing him?
You felt downtrodden. You felt insecure. Why on Earth had he asked you out if he didn’t want to kiss you?
***
Six dates in and all you’d done still was hold hands. You really didn’t get him. He kept asking you out but never seemed interested in doing anything other than hand holding.
You liked Spencer, a lot, but you were not willing to be in a relationship where there was no kind of intimacy.
But that was all pushed to the back of your mind when you and JJ found Spencer passed out in his apartment.
He’d been involved in an explosion thanks to the psychopath Everett Lynch. He was late for work the following day which was really unlike Spencer so you and JJ went to check on him. That’s when you’d found him.
While the rest of the team worked on finding Lynch, you stayed vigil at his bedside.
When he’d finally woken up tears streamed down your face and you’d be up like a shot.
“Oh my god Spence,” you sobbed. “I thought I was going to lose you.” You leant in to kiss his chapped lips.
He rolled his head to the side on the pillow, once again your lips meeting stubbly skin.
“I’m really thirsty.” He croaked, seemingly ignoring your actions.
You swallowed your pride with a sigh.
“I’ll get you some water Spence.” And with your tail between your legs you left the room in search of hydration.
***
After that you’d decided no more. You were fed up feeling a fool every time you tried to make a move on him only to be shot down.
So you decided you wouldn’t bother anymore.
Since he left hospital the two of you still hung out but it was less frequent as usual and the word date was never used again.
One night, it came to a head.
You were in Spencer’s apartment watching some foreign film which you were struggling to comprehend despite the subtitles.
Your mind was whirring, lost down a rabbit hole of thoughts of you and Spencer. You were so preoccupied in your own head you didn’t even notice when Spencer scooted closer to you or put his arm around your shoulders.
“Y/N?” He whispered your name, snapping you out of the abyss.
“Hmm?” You turned to face him.
His tongue glided over his bottom lip and his eyes were trained on your lips.
The next few seconds happened in slow motion. Spencer started edging closer to you, his eyes fluttering closed and his lips pursed.
And you turned your head to face the TV, allowing his lips to hit your cheek the way yours had to him so many times.
He made a strange noise that sounded halfway between a sigh and a groan. You tried to pretend you were focused on the TV. You felt his eyes on the side of your face and you tried to ignore it.
After a few minutes Spencer paused the film, the room falling silent. You swallowed a lump in your throat and slowly turned to face him.
“Why’d you stop the film?” you hoped your voice didn’t sound as shaky as you thought it did.
“I think we need to talk.” Spencer chewed his lip. “I think I need to explain why I’ve been so...weird.”
“Spencer, trust me when I say you being weird is not an unusual thing.” you tried to lighten the mood.
“Weirder than usual then.” he was fidgeting in his seat, wringing his hands together in his lap.
“I hadn’t noticed.” you lied.
“Yes you have.” he told you.
“Look Spence,” you sighed. “If you don’t want to kiss me I get it. But why would you ask me out if that’s not what you wanted?” the words spilled out of your mouth.
He nodded his understanding at your words, running one hand through his messy locks.
“I do want to kiss you Y/N.” his cheeks stained red with embarrassment. “I’ve always wanted to kiss you, since the first time I met you. Jeez, kissing is just the tip of the iceberg of things I want to do with you.” his blush deepened.
Your chest tightened at his words, a twinge passing between your legs.
“You uhm...you have a funny way of showing it.” your voice was breathy. You didn’t mean it to be.
“I know.” he nodded, gnawing his bottom lip. “I freaked myself out. I got in my head and I panicked and I didn’t know how to deal with that. So I dealt with it really, really badly and I’m sorry.”
“What were you freaking out about Spence?”
He sighed heavily, the blush still straining his cheeks.
“It took me six years to finally work up the courage to ask you out.” he laughed shyly. “But when I finally did, I was terrified I wouldn’t be good enough.”
Your face dropped, sadness in your eyes.
“Spencer,” you reached for him and took hold of his hand. It was sweating and shaking.
He shook his head sadly, telling you not to try and convince him otherwise.
“Y/N, I am not...not so great with women in case you’d never picked up on that.” he chuckled again, but again it was a shy sound. “I don’t ha-have...so much ex-experience.” he swallowed hard. “There have only been...a few...women. Not enough to make me an...ex-expert in any sense.” he swallowed again. “I just wanted to be...good...for you.”
“Oh Spencer,” you felt tears in your eyes. You had no idea he’d been going through this mental turmoil. “Spencer I don’t care. I’ve wanted you for six years. Trust me, there is no way in hell you will not be good enough. I am crazy about you Spence, and all I want in the whole right now is to kiss you. I have waited too long to know what those lips would-”
He cut you off when his lips suddenly crashed against yours.
You let out a small whimper as those plump lips of his finally kissed you. They felt better than your wildest imagination.
The whimper allowed Spencer to slide his tongue in your mouth. He held your face in his large hands, exploring your mouth with fervor.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you.
It was without a doubt the single most magical experience of your life. Nothing could have prepared you for how good his kiss would be.
It sent goosebumps flaring across your skin, making your chest tighten with lust.
It made you wet between your legs.
Maybe you should take a writing class because these lips, this kiss, definitely deserved poems written about them.
Your whole body felt as though it were on fire, every nerve ending in your body tingling with desire.
When the kiss ended you both gasped for air, trying to satiate your now empty lungs.
Spencer’s cheeks stained red again as he waited for your reaction shyly.
“I hope that was o-ok.” He stuttered a little.
You couldn’t help the large smile that broke out across your face.
“Spencer Reid, that was more than ok. It was perfect.”
His blush deepened and he looked away from you briefly before finding your eyes once more.
“Good.” He swallowed. “Because there’s a lot more I want to do with you Y/N.”
His words made you shudder.
“Now?” You swallowed, feeling oddly nervous.
“Right now.” He nodded before taking your face in his hands and kissing you again.
He was going to show exactly what his lips could do. And those poems practically wrote themselves between the sheets.
—————————————————————
Taglist -
@muffin-cup
@andiebeaword
@mggsprettygirl
@measure-in-pain
@ptrs-prkrs
460 notes · View notes
spencersawkward · 4 years ago
Note
i’m so happy ur on tumblr now!! i love between the lines so much, could you write a blurb or one shot about mgg and a younger co-star, but like very spicy if possible 🙃, idk i just love that scenario🥵.
i was literally about to write "omg i love this concept too!" and then i was like “well no fucking shit, sophi.” lol. YES i can 10/10 write you a one-shot with a similar scenario! also thank you for your kind words that was the first fic i ever wrote so it’s very near and dear to my heart!
summary: reader goes to a holiday party with her co-stars and best friend, Matthew... but all the fun happens in the dressing room.
content warnings: this one is quite dirty but i’m also proud of it lol. unprotected penetrative sex, oral (female receiving), degradation, use of the term “little girl,” creampie, age gap. dirty talk?
pairing: Fem!Reader/Matthew
word count: 4.7k
masterlist
Tumblr media
"no."
"what do you mean, 'no’?” Matthew laughs, looking between me and the mirror.
"I look like the Ghost of Christmas Past." I lift up the soft white tulle of the dress, watching it float back down to settle over my skin. he's got his eyebrows raised and there's a smirk on his lips like he's holding back a laugh. I resist the urge to reach around and hit him.
"would you rather wear that?" he points to the punch-stained gown that's now laying pathetically over the back of the vanity chair. I genuinely ponder the idea for a moment.
"honestly, the crime scene vibes might work well with the theme of our show."
"seriously, it's not bad, Y/N!" he insists, drawing my attention back to the mirror.
"you're just saying that because you're the one who spilled on me and you don't want people making fun of how clumsy you are." I cross my arms over my chest. he gives me a dubious expression in our reflection on the wall.
"do I seem like I care about that?" he challenges.
"I--" the truth is that no, Matthew is not the type. Matthew is the kind of person to flounder in front of anyone and proceed to crack a joke about himself. he's humble. but I kind of like when we talk like this, our back and forth.
after a year of working together on the same show, he and I have grown incredibly close. I'm friends with all my co-stars, but he and I just have the natural friendship chemistry that makes me want to spend all my time with him. when we're not on set, we're hanging out on his couch or ordering dinner or driving out of town to check out wacky sites around California. we just have fun. pure, clean, honest fun.
of course, in my dreams it isn't pure or honest. frankly, there's a lot of sordid scandal to what goes on in my head when he accidentally touches my arm or brushes his fingers over mine. the amount of times I have gone to cast parties trying to work up the nerve to kiss him are embarrassing. he's older and more experienced and, obviously, he has no interest in me.
but that doesn't matter.
the only reason I'm standing in a dressing room alone with him is because he knew someone on the crew who could hook me up with a replacement for the night. he left while I slipped out of the old one and came back in only after knocking and checking, like, twice to make sure I was decent. he's so respectful that it's almost like he's afraid of making me think the wrong thing-- which makes me feel absolutely stupid for my almost schoolgirl crush.
"come on, you look great. let's go enjoy the party."
"was this a dress one of the victims was wearing?" I ask with a laugh.
"probably. not like we carry a lot of gowns on set." he grabs my hand, makes my heart leap into my throat. he only does it to urge me along, but it still feels intimate as I follow him out of the room, tossing one more evaluative glance at myself in the mirror. I seem terrified.
we continue to do our rounds at the party, Matthew filling my glass of eggnog even though I hate it. I wince and take a sip while we talk to some of our co-stars.
"what's wrong with you?" Shemar chuckles at my expression.
"lost a bet."
"with whom?" he glances between Matthew and me, knowing damn well already from the mischievous grin on the former's face.
"I told you not to take it." Matthew says over the rim of his glass.
"if you mention it one more time, I'm gonna throw up eggnog all over your outfit." I threaten him, but we're both smiling. Shemar frowns.
"what was the bet?"
"you know David-- the guy I was telling you about?" I reply quickly, determined to give my side of the story. Shemar nods; I told him last week when David oh-so-chivalrously danced up on me at a club and asked me out. usually in those situations, guys just want a one-night stand, so I was impressed and agreed. "anyway, Matthew said if it turned out that he was a weirdo, he would get to pick my drinks for the next week whenever we go out."
"your drinks? that's specific."
"she's so picky!" Matthew teases me.
"leave me alone, you dick!" I elbow him and he dodges just in time.
"tell him why he was a weirdo." he grins. the glare I give could kill. but Shemar is waiting expectantly for me to share the information, so I sigh and set my jaw before telling the truth.
"he collects antique dental tools."
"what?" Shemar laughs disbelievingly. I throw my hands up.
"I don't fucking know. we went back to his apartment and he showed me his whole collection."
"you're attracted to weird people, Y/N." Matthew says. I raise my eyebrows and almost say something that dooms me. I hold my tongue, however, and turn back to Shemar with a reserved smile.
"anyway, how are you?"
...
the cast holiday party is actually pretty fun. I tend to leave these functions early in favor of my couch and some ice cream, but something about the bright colors and the smell of wintergreen in the air makes me want to linger in the studio.
I stuff myself with sugar cookies and Matthew mercifully lets me switch from eggnog to Sprite. normally, I'd drink at such an occasion, but I'm a messy drunk and this is one of my first real jobs as an actress. I don't want to even come close to jeopardizing that by breaking some expensive equipment or something.
my throat gets a little sore from all the talking I do-- Paget and I spend about half an hour horribly belting out Christmas carols at the baby grand piano they brought in. they originally had someone hired to play it, but the guy disappeared about an hour ago.
by the time it hits around ten pm, my limbs are tired. I thought people would be leaving (a lot of them have families), but the party is still very much raging when I start to wind down. maybe it's because I'm sober.
"hey." Matthew sidles up next to me as I sit at the piano bench with a slice of lime in my mouth. I like to suck the juice out of them; sour things are my favorite.
"hi." I pluck the fruit out and drop it back into my soda. he sits next to me, his cologne filling my senses with the kind of sensual warmth that it shouldn't be making me feel. he always smells so good.
"ladylike." he gestures to the movement.
"is that why you call me 'princess?'" I smirk, half-joking.
"once-- I called you that once!" he defends. it's not a lie. he used the nickname when he was mocking me for my somewhat selective food preferences. it was sarcastic, but I wish it wasn't. something about the way he said it in the moment made me blush.
"is there a reason you've come to grate my nerves?" I raise an eyebrow and he turns away from me as he bites back a smile. I pout. "what?"
"you're talking like a Jane Austen novel."
"what's wrong with Jane Austen?" I defend, skin heating up. his proximity is doing things to me that it shouldn't.
"nothing," he glances at me before moving his gaze to the ivory keys. "do you play?"
"elementary level, sure." I giggle. he runs his fingers over them, never pressing down hard enough to release a sound. I'm entranced by the delicate nature of his actions, the veins and the curve of his fingertips, the sheer width of his hand. I think about it too much for it to be healthy.
"show me." it's a direct order, one that doesn't feel directive but still ends with me placing both hands on the piano and wracking my brain for something to play. I decide on a piece that Paget and I were doing earlier, "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas."
I've never been quite good at piano, and the nearness of his body is like an anvil on my fingers, but I play anyway. and it feels good. his eyes are on me, drawn to my tracings over the instrument as they press and lift and glide.
"sing." I tell him.
"no!" he protests. I don't stop playing, only now getting into the thick of the tune.
"oh, come on. just the chorus..." I plead, turning my head to beg. "please?"
I bat my lashes playfully, fully intending it as a joke, but Matthew softens a bit. for a fraction of a second, I think he looks at my mouth. he turns his head back to the piano and lets out a quiet "here we are as in olden days... happy golden days of yore..."
"there you go!" I egg him on, and he starts to get more into it. his voice is absolutely off-key; he's no singer, and somehow that makes him even more endearing to me.
Matthew has always been this flawless, intimidating figure in my mind. even when we first met, I was certain that he was hiding something because everything else about him is so... perfect. he's funny, sweet, genuinely kind, handsomer than hell. it didn't make sense. but knowing that he can't carry a tune makes me feel a bit better. it humanizes his beauty.
while he sings, I can't help looking at him. his side profile is even more enchanting; the curve of his features meeting a smooth elegance in his jaw and cheek, especially when his mouth is open. he catches me smiling at him and returns it with his own gleeful face, now totally fine with singing like a fool in front of everyone. nobody is even really looking at us-- they're several drinks in and lost in their own universe of drunken laughter.
there's something kind of magical about that, I think. we're sober. when the song draws to a close, I lift my fingers off the keys and into my lap.
"you're quite the Pavarotti." I joke.
"the who?" he furrows his brow with a smile.
"he's a famous opera singer."
"oh," he laughs, "thanks, Mozart."
I twist my face up as I hide my smile. this is also part of the reason I could never tell Matthew how I feel; we just fit together too well. he almost always gets my references and I understand his, even though there's an age gap between us. he's an old soul with a youthful heart.
"how's your night going?" I ask him softly, changing the subject. he sets his hands on his lap, absent-mindedly toying with his fingers. it's not a nervous tendency at all. he does it whenever we're on set.
"as of right now? pretty damn good." he replies with a smile. I get warm again at the implication. he doesn't mean it like that, but god, do I wish he did.
"very smooth." I compliment appreciatively.
"how about you?"
"it was kind of boring, but then this rando sat next to me and started singing Christmas songs and it got a little better." I say flatly, grabbing my glass off the top of the piano and running my fingertip over the rim. he drops his head in a giggle.
"you're something else."
"insult?" I clarify.
"definitely a compliment."
"I like compliments."
"well, I wasn't lying before. you look really beautiful in that dress."
"the murder dress?" I glance down at it to hide the absolute wideness of my eyes at his words. he's completely flustering me and I'm starting to find it hard to breathe. he said I look beautiful. not "pretty," not "great"-- beautiful.
"yes, the murder dress." he gets a little pink in his cheeks, and that makes me want to explode on the spot.
"well, say goodbye to it because I'm gonna go change back into my plebeian clothes," I stand from the piano bench. "it's past my bedtime."
Matthew looks up at me with an unreadable expression and I feel my heart flutter in my chest. I hate leaving him. "do you wanna come with me? like-- walk with me?"
"sure." he nods, stands, and follows behind. I can feel his presence like a delightful reminder of the emotions surging in my stomach. we wind through the crowd of party-goers until we end up back in the dressing room, away from the party. it's quiet.
Matthew walks in with me, carrying our drinks in his hand, and he's about to stroll back out so I can change when I touch his arm. the door shuts automatically behind him.
"wait," I swallow quickly. "can you unzip me?"
"oh." Matthew looks at me, then at the glasses in his arms, then at the vanity. he sets them down and comes back quickly, his frame behind me while his fingertips locate the little piece at the top of my gown. my breath hitches in my throat when he brushes over my spine by accident, one nail dragging accidentally against my skin as the fabric slowly gives way. I don't know if he hears it-- it's nearly imperceptible-- but he definitely hesitates once he reaches the place where my back starts to curve into my ass. he pauses, doesn't breathe until he reaches the end of the zipper.
"there you go." he mutters. his voice is a little more hoarse than usual, and he clears his throat as he steps away. I know he's going to back out. he's going to back out of the room and wait for me to slip into nothing and I know, somehow, that he's going to be thinking about how I look in here with my clothes off. he's going to wish he stayed.
and I'm going to wish he'd done more than stayed.
before I can lose my nerve and allow the moment to be swallowed up by practicality, I shrug the straps of the dress down my shoulders and let gravity take over. it drops to the floor, leaving me in only my bra and panties. I can sense him behind me; he's silent for a moment.
"Matthew." I say, the name sitting on my tongue like a sugar cube. perfectly formed, slowly dissolving.
"y-yeah?" he stutters for the first time since I've met him.
"are you looking at my ass right now?" I ask, still turned around. the way he's frozen in place tells me that I'm right.
"yeah." he admits.
"you can touch it, if you want." I murmur softly. part of me doesn't think this is real, the way each sentence leaves my throat like it's been pre-planned. truly, I don't understand how my brain is moving so quickly.
"are you... sure?" he's hesitant, but even I can taste the longing.
"yes."
his hand smooths over my butt, softly at first like he's still not believing his own eyes, before moving back to grab it. he squeezes the flesh, and a low exhale from him tells me that he's excited.
"do you want more?" my voice barely carries. my head is almost foggy from how good it is to have his grip on my body, even in such a simple way. I can feel myself getting wet.
"how much more?" his lips brush over my shoulder and I get goosebumps. my mouth opens and closes for a moment, searching for the right words.
"however much you want."
it's flint and steel, the way he sparks. the air literally leaves my lungs when Matthew grabs my hips and spins me around to face him. my lips part as I peer up at him, at the lust that now darkens those hazel eyes and the way he holds mine. his touch is certain. he pulls our bodies together, tilts my chin up to kiss me.
it's passionate, strong, the kind of kiss that causes me to lean back a bit just to receive the full force of his desire. but I return the affection easily, moaning into his mouth. I've never been held the way that Matthew holds me. like I'm made of sugar glass, like he wants desperately to feel the soft give of my skin and make a home of me.
the heat between our bodies is almost overwhelming, and I sigh when he subtly pushes our hips together. his erection is against my stomach.
"fuck." I mutter when I pull away for air. Matthew doesn't stop his perfect movements, though, tugging my earlobe between his teeth and starting to leave love bites up my skin and over my shoulder. he chuckles against my throat. I shiver.
"you alright, little girl?" he asks.
"just--" I let out a moan at the sensation of his fingers exploring my bare waist. he reaches behind me to unclasp my bra. "just surprised."
"about?" he slides the straps down my shoulders and looks me in the eye. the lack of physical contact makes me whine.
"that you want me."
"how is that surprising?" he smiles, using one index finger to guide me to look at him.
"you don't seem like it."
Matthew raises his eyebrows as if I'm a crazy person. truly dumbstruck. "what?"
"you-- well, I don't know." I frown, but Matthew takes my hand and moves it over his torso until my palm is resting over the considerable bulge in his pants.
"is this enough proof?"
I struggle for words, sputtering. "yeah-- yeah, it is."
he bucks into my hand a little and I bite my lip, eyes moving up to meet his. something passes between us that I don't fully understand, but feel in my bones. I have never, in my life, wanted someone to fuck me as much as I want Matthew to fuck me right now. my jaw clenches.
"I need you." I tell him like this is the most relevant piece of information that will ever pass between us. he smirks.
"yeah?"
"mhmm."
"then lean against the wall and let me give you what you deserve." he orders. for a second, I try to think through what he means. then I look behind me at the open space and back up, him following me closely. his hands move up to cup my breasts, kneading and tweaking my nipples as he kisses my lips. the coolness against my back causes me to gasp, and he swallows the sound with his tongue before moving down my body.
he's torturously slow, taking one of my nipples into his mouth while he shrugs off his suit jacket. he switches to my other peak, one hand splayed over my stomach, and then proceeds southward with his lips. his kisses are delicate, open-mouthed, as they find their way to the waistband of my panties.
he hooks his fingers in them and looks up at me.
"can I eat you out, baby?" he asks. I bite my lip.
"please." like a beg.
"oh, you're polite tonight." he smirks, tugging the garment down my legs and discarding it somewhere in the room. I don't respond, and he doesn't seem to need me to, because he pushes one leg up for better access to my pussy. "let's see if it lasts."
my back curves off of the wall involuntarily when he holds the flat of his tongue against my clit suddenly, trying to roll my hips against his face. my fingers tangle in his hair, one leg resting over his shoulder.
he starts to flick at my clit. I lose grasp of my own language.
"Matthew, that feels so good, I--"
he attaches himself to my bundle of nerves, seemingly turned on by the sounds I'm making for him. he groans as he laps at the wetness between my legs, dipping into my folds and sucking the soul out of me. I whine and use his curls as leverage to gain more friction. he peers up at me.
"needy little girl." he mumbles against my pussy. I shove him back into me.
"make me cum, then." I beg. I can practically feel the devilish smirk on his face as he devours me like he'll never get enough. every twist and lick of his tongue is sending me to new places. I'm panting, chest heaving, while I grab my own tits and buck into his mouth.
he moans. my orgasm hits me like a wave, causing me to nearly thrash with pleasure as I cry out.
"Matthew, keep going, fuck yes!" I feel tears prick the back of my eyes, the culmination almost too much to bear as we hold contact. he stares into my fucking soul as he eats me out, and I want to stay like this forever. it's hard to support myself with my legs going weak, but I love it. the sensations are otherworldly. it's only when I'm about to collapse that I push his face away from me.
"I love your pussy." he tells me, licking his lips as he sets my legs down. I grin and let my head fall back against the wall.
"thanks."
"come here, princess." he takes hold of my hips and guides me over to the mirror, turning me so that he's standing behind my frame. the pet name causes me to smile.
"what?" I reference our reflection. he stares at me, reaching around to squeeze my tits.
"I wanna fuck you in the mirror." such a vulgar thing, said so beautifully. he kisses my cheek. "if that's okay with you."
"I don't care what position we do as long as you're fucking me." I breathe honestly. he chuckles and draws me towards him so his clothed boner is against my ass. I reach behind and work the button on his pants. he undoes the ones on his shirt. we're silent, him watching my naked body move like he's trying to memorize every detail.
when he's finally stripped, he lets me stroke his cock for a couple moments before pushing my upper back forward so I'm holding onto the sides of the mirror. I see him biting his lip as he lines himself up at my entrance.
"you ready?" he checks. I nod and he smiles at me once. pushing in, the smile melts into a jaw-dropped haze, eyes rolling into the back of his head. "Y/N..."
"it's so big." I try to breathe. he's so deep, I grip the mirror until my knuckles turn white. he's going to snap my body in two with the angle of his cock, filling me easily.
"tight little thing." he grunts as he holds himself inside. I can only watch in shock as I try to adjust to the sheer feeling of him. Matthew runs his hands over my sides, my ass, touching whatever he can. "how's that?"
I start to wiggle my hips and he groans at the feeling of my walls desperately swallowing him up. "Matthew, I need it."
"need what?" he thrusts into me and I have to fight a scream.
"need you."
"fuck... yes." he hisses out, sliding into me. "you're so wet I don't even need to try."
I bite my lip to withhold my sounds and he stares me in the eyes in the mirror as he starts to fuck me harder, building a pace with his hips. he growls a little if he hits certain angles, getting ruthless.
"so many times when I wanted to be inside you, princess..." he trails off. I start to play with my clit with one hand, using the other to stabilize myself with the mirror. the idea turns me on.
"when?"
"whenever you have attitude," he pants. "tonight, in that innocent fucking dress. making me wanna pound you like a little slut."
I make a high-pitched sound at the shudder of pleasure that jolts through my stomach at his words, wanting more. I've never heard him talk this way before.
"Matthew, shit--" I rub myself in circles, caught between watching his face and watching the way his hips slam into mine.
"you're begging to be fucked, you know that?"
"am I?" I smile sweetly in the mirror. we're in our own world, locked in a fantasy that I never want to leave. I can feel him in every corner of my body, sinking beneath my skin. he digs his nails into my ass.
"mhmm." he hums. I can feel the familiar weight in my stomach that indicates how close I'm getting. a knot that screams to be undone by his perfect length. I would do anything for more of this. I can taste everything good in the world on my tongue.
"I'm so close." I whine.
"I can tell," he studies my face in the mirror. "so pretty when you're breaking."
"oh--" I feel my thighs tense and my body pulses, the euphoria almost overwhelming. we move steadily, rhythmically, and he pushes my climax to new levels. "faster." I cry.
Matthew is quick to respond, gripping me closer while he plows into me like he's never going to have my body again. the sound of it is filthy, perfect, a mess. he groans at the sensation of my cunt pulsating around his cock.
"cum for me, princess." he moans, losing himself in the embrace of my core. the foggy stare in his eyes is like drowning in the ocean. I sink below, not caring at all about the consequences of him inside me. fuck working together; I need him. "where should I cum?"
"in me." I groan.
"beg." he commands easily, watching my face contort in pleasure. I could pretend to fight it, to give a little attitude, but I don't want to. I love begging for him.
"fill me up, Matthew. please." each word punctuated by the breathlessness of my voice. he gets even more ferocious with me, beating up my pussy until I'm sure he's going to leave me sore.
"right there, right there," he gasps, hitting the same spot that makes me go cross-eyed. "such a good little slut."
his cum shoots into me, deep and warm and erotically twisted, and I nearly collapse. it feels weird, but so good at the same time. full. he groans out my name and withdraws, quick to grab my shoulders and hold me up as I almost fall. I hadn't realized that most of my body weight was supported purely by his thrusts.
"whoa." he lets out a tired laugh, gentle in his touch. I'm heaving air into my lungs.
"sorry." I apologize, my body unstable.
"are you okay?" he seems genuinely concerned and I nod.
"yeah, I'm fine. just a little overwhelmed."
"here," he scoops me into his arms and brings me over to the old love seat in the dressing room, laying his jacket down before putting me on top of it. "can I get you something?"
"Sprite." I gesture to the glass on the vanity, and he smiles as he goes to get it. I gulp down whatever remains of it. "thanks."
"of course." he keeps glancing at my face and the red marks on my hips where he was clutching me like a lifeline. "I'm sorry."
"what?" I set the cup down. "don't ever be sorry for fucking me like that."
"no, I meant--" he laughs, but then he sees my playful expression and realizes that I'm genuinely alright. I think my legs were asleep.
"you're a saint." I tell him. he frowns and shakes his head bashfully. I'm already getting up and collecting my clothes. "or maybe what we just did prevents you from reaching sainthood. I don't know."
he places his hand on my lower back, kisses my forehead tenderly.
"seriously. you're okay?"
"I'm perfectly fine," I assure him. "but I would be better with a milkshake."
Matthew breaks into a slow grin, staring at me like I've done something miraculous.
"how are you so perfect?"
528 notes · View notes
jokertrap-ran · 3 years ago
Photo
Tumblr media
[恋する王子様] Prince in Love: Cooling Moment by the Waterside (Carlyle) Translation
"Carlyle invites you to the calm and quiet sea…"
*Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Name will remain as my normal ( ラン )
Tumblr media
The gentle, irregular, sound of waves washing ashore fills the air along with the gentle rustling of the night breeze…
Upon receiving Carlyle’s invite, I found myself standing before the quiet sea.
Carlyle: Are you cold?
Ran: No, I’m good.
He gently shushes me with a finger.
Tumblr media
Carlyle: Now, that won’t do. If so, then I’d lose all the excuses I can use to touch you.
He draws me in by the shoulder as he speaks, his body shielding me from the sea breeze that tickled my cheek.
Now slightly closer, he turns towards the calm sea, his profile illuminated by the moonlight.
Carlyle: This is… one of my favourite places.
Carlyle: I’ve been to many places far and wide, but this… this serenely quiet sea takes the cake.
Ran: It sure does. It’s a very peaceful and serene place. Plus, it boasts a brilliant scenic view…
Carlyle: Indeed. The shape of the waves, the colour of the sky… Nature, whose beauty when seen from this vantage, will never fail to disappoint.
The softly undulating sea only served to prove his words with its irregular, yet beautiful, surface as it swayed.
Carlyle: For starters, it is also a place where people are less inclined to frequent; especially not at this hour…
Carlyle: So I suppose, that's why we can monopolize this scenery and have it all for ourselves in a way.
His lips, curved into a gentle arc, appeared paler under the moonlight.
(He really does like this place…)
This was coming from him, someone who was unusually talkative today. The gears in my head start turning.
MC: Somehow… I feel like, perhaps, I shouldn't be here.
The moment my comment tumbled out of my lips, Carlyle's gaze slid to mine.
Carlyle: Considering the fact that I was the one who brought you here, I think that there's no one worthier to be here.
A small chuckle rumbled from him as he brushed his slender fingers against my cheek.
Carlyle: I want my special someone to know my favourite place.
Carlyle: Isn't it normal to share what you love with your loved ones? Ran: Carlyle…
His eyes, peering through the gap of his bangs, ensnare me.
Carlyle's shoulders shook in silent mirth when I hurriedly averted my gaze, his eyes too entrancing to bear.
Carlyle: …How about we go for a walk?
His voice was filled with joy, and I took his proffered hand.
Between the cool sea breeze and the warmth that radiated from his hand, a comfortable calm settled within me.
(It's so peaceful here…)
Only the sound of nature could be heard.
I turned around.
Ran: Oh…
I subconsciously came to a standstill upon noticing two pairs of footsteps in the otherwise unmarred sand.
Tumblr media
Carlyle: What's wrong?
Following my gaze, he turned in the same direction I did.
Ran: Nothing. I just saw our footsteps and realized that we are probably the only ones here.
Two pairs of footsteps of two distinct sizes, side-by-side. It made my heart well up.
Carlyle: Ahh, yes. Just like a painting, won't you say?
Carlyle: It's definitely something you'll never see if you come here alone.
The sea breeze rustled his hair as he looked down at the same footsteps.
Carlyle: Spending time with you here enables me to find new beauty in the familiar…
Carlyle: I'm glad I brought you here.
His joyous smile slackened as he fixes his slightly wind-tousled hair.
Carlyle: Although… I suppose the location doesn't really matter. Ran: What?
I blinked in confusion. He gently draws me towards him by the hand…
Our footsteps, drawn in the sand, overlapped the moment he encased me within his arms.
Carlyle: What's beautiful is the very act of you walking right by my side.
Carlyle: Your eyes, your words, your warmth… your everything. Your entire existence charms me to no end.
His finger gently rubbed against my lips in warning before his soft lips descended.
His arms held me firm as I staggered from the deep kiss.
Ran: Carlyle…
Carlyle: Hehe. What?
Slightly breathless, I called out his name. To which, he responded as calmly as ever.
Ran: I… I want to know about more of your favourite places.
Tumblr media
His eyes widened at my small, but selfish request.
Ran: It would be great if I also shared the love of the places that my loved one likes…
(I want to see more sights with him.)
Putting my hand around his back, I weaved my boundless and unwavering love into my words.
Carlyle: You are as adorable as ever.
Carlyle: I'll take you anywhere, as long as you wish.
My cheeks burned at his sweet words…
He then reached out, brushing his hand against my cheek, as if checking for the burning warmth that failed to cool despite how cold the breeze was.
Carlyle: Perhaps a little more air might do you some good.
Carlyle released the arm he'd used to keep me close, and the slight makings of loneliness started growing within my heart.
However, he soon took my hand into his, holding it tight. It felt as if he was trying to stave off the loneliness I felt with his warmth.
Carlyle: This heat I felt… It's cold out here, but it might take longer to cool off.
Looking back, we could both see the two pairs of footsteps trailing upwards, illuminated by the moonlight.
I faced front once more, carving a brand new set of footprints into the soft sand beneath together with him…
12 notes · View notes
the-modernmary · 4 years ago
Text
when you gonna take me out? || derek morgan x GN!reader
Tumblr media
Summary: You and Derek have been flirting pretty heavily for the past few weeks. So when his first time asking you out doesn't go as well as planned, he's determined to get you to say yes.
Warnings: mentions of getting shot, allusions to smut
A/N: Chapter title taken from Aly & AJ's "Take Me Out". This was inspired by a scene from the show community, and also because derek morgan deserves more love
~~~~~~~
“No, no, you see, asking somebody out is an art,” Derek explained to a very frustrated Spencer Reid. “And I think with a little practice, pretty boy, you could become a bit of a player.”
Prentiss, who had been listening to Derek trying to convince Spencer to let him be his wingman for the better part of an hour, scoffed from her desk. “Using a cheesy pickup line is an art now?”
“There is nothing wrong with a line!” Derek argued, leaning back in his desk chair. “It’s a knock at the door. And once they let you in, that’s when you strike.”
Spencer scrunched up his nose at Derek’s phrasing. “I think I’m going to leave the whole player thing to you.”
“Come on, Reid, it’s easy.”
“If it’s so easy, then why don’t you show us?” Prentiss shot.
Right at that moment, Garcia and JJ walked back into the bullpen, coffees in hand. “Show us what?” JJ questioned.
“Derek is trying to teach Reid how to flirt,” Prentiss explained. “But I think he’s just all talk. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Morgan with a significant other.”
Derek rolled his eyes. “Hey, I don’t pry into your personal life?”
Garcia put a comforting hand on Derek’s shoulder. “Nobody can resist my chocolate thunder. I mean, look at him. He literally looks like he was sculpted by Michaelangelo.”
“I’m with Emily,” JJ chimed in. “I kind of want to see the Derek Morgan in action.”
Derek’s eyes scanned the bullpen until he landed on you, standing in the kitchen area and making yourself a cup of coffee. You were also a profiler, just on a different team that primarily focused on cold cases. It was no secret that you and Derek Morgan had been flirting pretty heavily the past few weeks — longing glances, pet names, and kisses on cheeks were just the start — and you both had a sneaking suspicion that there was an office pool betting on whether or not the two of you had already hooked up.
“Fine,” Derek said, standing up. “Watch and learn, Pretty Ricky.”
Derek sauntered over to the kitchen and leaned against the counter while reaching for a wooden stirrer. “Let me help you with that,” he offered.
You turned to look at him, a smile on your face. “Wow, what a gentleman,” you teased, but you handed your cup of coffee to him anyways. “I didn’t realize you knew how I take my coffee?”
“You learn a lot about somebody when you can’t take your eyes off them,” he pointed out. “Especially with the way you look right now. I mean, wow. Got a hot date tonight? Because he is one very lucky man.”
You arched an eyebrow in his direction. “Nope, no date.”
“Well, you do now, baby,” Derek grinned. “I’ll pick you up at 8:30.”
You stared at Derek, part amused and part incredulous. “Did you really think that would work?” you asked through a breathy chuckle.
Derek’s confident grin fell slightly as his eyes narrowed in confusion. “Wait, what?” he asked, unable to form any other words.
“Derek Morgan, I expected so much more from you,” you mused, snatching your coffee cup from his hand. “I know you can sweet talk better than that.”
It was Derek’s turn to raise his eyebrows, and he tried his best to ignore the barely-suppressed giggles from his teammates. “So is that a no?” he clarified, not used to the feeling of rejection. Although, it didn’t feel quite like a rejection, especially when you were smiling at him with just a hint of your tongue peaking out from between your teeth.
“It’s a… ‘better luck next time’,” you explained, taking a sip of your coffee.
Derek’s normal, confident grin returned to his face. “You’re saying I can ask you out again?” he clarified, because he did not want to be the guy who didn’t know how to take no for an answer.
You walked backwards to your desk, never taking your eyes off Derek. “Sure. It could be fun. But you’ll have to bring your A-game if you want me to say yes,” you told him, and oh, Derek Morgan loved a good challenge.
Derek walked back to his desk, feeling the stares of his teammates the whole way back.
“Like a knock on the door...” Prentiss quoted back to Derek. “So did you just get the door slammed in your face, or was nobody home?”
Derek scoffed and sat down in his chair, already coming up with all the new ways he could ask you out. He had been wanting to for a while, but the timing was always off. But now…
“Oh no, I’m in,” Derek promised, and his eyes were immediately drawn to you. He hadn’t been lying when he said that he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. “But I’m playing the long game.”
~~~~~~~
Derek and the rest of his team got pulled into a case shortly after, so you didn’t hear from him for about a week except for the occasional “how is it going?” text. They got back to the BAU in the middle of the day, but instead of heading straight home like the rest of his team, Derek made a beeline to your desk.
“Good morning, gorgeous,” he greeted, dropping a quick kiss to your temple. “Hope you didn’t miss me too much.”
A soft blush rose to your cheeks as you shut the file you were looking at, spinning your chair so that you could face him. “I missed you tons, as always. But you knew that.”
Derek’s eyes trailed up and down your body, and there was a softness to his gaze that you rarely ever saw from him. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”
“Sore eyes?” you questioned. “I don’t know about that. Wasn’t there a meteor shower where you guys were at?”
“Yeah, but no meteor shower can compare to how beautifully your eyes sparkle.”
You tried really, really hard to hold in your laughter. You pressed your lips into a thin line and you bit the insides of your cheeks, but you were only so strong, and even Derek looked like he realized how cheesy and awful that line was.
You broke down into a fit of laughter. “I’m sorry,” you giggled, covering your mouth as you did. “I just — Did you google a top ten best pickup lines list on the plane ride back?”
Derek winced, but nodded in agreement. “That’s fair. Not my best work.”
“No, it was not, Romeo,” you said, patting his cheek. “But we’ll chalk it up to post-case sleep deprivation.”
“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Derek grinned. “When the time comes, you won’t be able to say no.”
You laughed, throwing your head back as you did. “And I am eagerly awaiting that day.”
~~~~~~~
Two days later, Derek all but ambushed you at the elevator. As soon as you stepped out onto the 6th floor, Derek slung his arm around your shoulders, and used his free hand to carry your bag for you.
“Oh, this is exciting,” you mused. You reached your hand up to interlace your fingers with the hand that was draped over your shoulder. “What do you have for me today, baby?”
“I’ve been thinking,” Derek explained. “And you’re a modern, progressive, independent person. I think I’ve been going about this all wrong.”
You nodded in encouragement. He was so close, you just knew it. All he had to do was ask you.
“You don’t want to be dragged down by a bunch of strings. So how about you come over tonight, I’ll put on some mood music, light some candles, and you and I can have one perfect night of pure bliss.”
Or maybe he wasn’t as close as you thought.
“Nope,” you said, moving his arm off of your shoulders. You liked Derek Morgan, but you were not going to be another one of his one night stands. “Not gonna happen.”
“Better or worse than before?” Derek asked, already knowing the answer, and he handed your bag back to you.
“Worse. Much worse.” You paused and turned so that you were facing him. “But I like how forward you were. Keep that up.”
Derek smirked and leaned against the wall, his hands in his pockets. “Yeah? So should I keep those candles just in case?”
You pretended to think about it for a few seconds. “With your current track record, baby boy, the only place you’ll be using those candles is in your dreams.”
“You’re already in my dreams, hot stuff,” he promised you. “Every. Single. Night.”
Oh god, that was a very welcome image you would think about forever. You knew that Derek liked you, and you had had your fair share of fantasies involving him in some pretty explicit situations, but him fantasizing about you? It was almost enough to convince you to drag him into the nearest empty room.
Almost. Because if he wanted a chance with you, he was going to have to actually ask you on a date.
Instead, you blew him a kiss and left him with: “And I bet I’m even better than you can imagine.”
Needless to say, the both of you spent the rest of the day incredibly distracted.
~~~~~~~
By that point, pretty everybody on the 6th floor knew what was going on, and they were all invested. More betting pools sprouted up, and even some of the more reserved agents were putting in their two cents, albeit under the guise of disapproval.
That’s why, when a bouquet of flowers appeared on your desk one morning, it was all anybody could talk about as they waited for you to get to work. Even Rossi and Hotch had found an excuse to get themselves out of their offices and into the main part of the bullpen.
“They’re going to say yes today,” Penelope guessed. “They have to. Everybody likes flowers, and this shows the sweet side of my chocolate thunder.”
Prentiss scoffed. “I hope they don’t. I have twenty bucks on at least two more rejections.”
Rossi, who was sitting on the edge of a desk, shook his head. “These are your friends. Don’t you guys feel bad about betting on their love lives?”
“Says the guy who has fifty dollars on ‘they get drunk and leave the bar together’,” Hotch said, not even looking up at the file he was skimming through. Hotch was one of the only ones who hadn’t put money into this whole thing, but he was still very well informed. “You all should really hide the whiteboard the bets are on a little bit better.”
Rossi was about to defend himself when you walked through the glass doors of the BAU. A hush fell over the room and they watched as your smile melted into realization and then nervousness.
You walked over to the bouquet and gingerly took the card, but you didn’t even get to read it when the first sneeze came. Then the next and the next, and pretty soon your eyes were watery, your nose running, and your throat was so scratchy that you sounded like you smoked four packs a day.
You tried to focus on your work, but the constant sneezing and needing to get up to blow your nose was seriously disrupting your productivity. You could barely focus because it felt like a head cold that just wouldn’t go away. Your pollen allergy was something you’d had your whole life, and when they hit, they hit bad.
The flowers were gorgeous and such a sweet gesture, but you didn’t even have the chance to really appreciate them while you could barely breathe through your nose. You were sure you were just a distraction
A hand on your shoulder made you jump, and you whipped around to see Hotch looking down at you with concern. You sighed. “I’m sorry, Agent Hotchner,” you said, your voice nasally. “I usually keep allergy meds in my bag, but it’s not pollen season and I—”
“Go home, agent,” Hotch interrupted you gently. “Get some rest. You can come back tomorrow when you feel better.”
“No, m’fine I just need to—” You cut yourself off this time with another sneeze, and then all you could do was agree with Hotch. “Yeah, I’m gonna go home. Thank you.”
You took the bouquet and walked over to Penelope, handing the glass vase over to her. “Will you please tell Derek that these are beautiful and that I’m so sorry—” You sneezed three times in a row, and by then you were too exhausted to even try talking anymore, so you just groaned and waved goodbye to the rest of Derek’s friends before dragging yourself out of the bullpen.
The next thirty minutes went on as usual, until Derek walked into the bullpen. He had been gone all morning doing a profiling seminar for academy recruits, so he had missed your quick descent into your allergic reaction.
His face fell slightly when he saw your empty desk, and it fell even more when he saw the flowers he had bought sitting on the corner of Prentiss’s desk and his entire team talking amongst themselves.
Derek walked up to them, a frown etched on his face. “Did they not show up for work today?” he asked.
“I sent them home,” Hotch explained, and if Derek didn’t know any better, he could have sworn that he saw the hint of a smirk on the corner of Hotch’s mouth.
Spencer’s smirk, on the other hand, was not even close to being hidden. “Hey Morgan, did you know that pollen allergies affect up to 20 million adults? And sunflowers and flowers in the aster family are considered some of the worst flowers for people who suffer with pollen allergies, since the pollen is so easily dispersed by the wind.”
Realization set in Derek and he cursed under his breath. You had mentioned once in passing that you liked the look of sunflowers, so he had assumed that those were the best flowers to get you. Clearly, he was wrong.
Noticing his dejected look, Garcia quickly interjected. “But they said that they’re beautiful and they looked like they really loved them,” she comforted. “And they wanted me to tell you that they’re sorry.”
Derek shook his head. How did he not know that you were allergic? That seemed like a pretty big thing. “No, they have nothing to be sorry for. I’m going to go wipe down their desk, make sure that it’s clean for them tomorrow.”
The team watched as Derek went over to your desk, taking his time to make sure that there was no flower residue left. They all quickly went back to discussing the bet, changing up their predictions now that they had more evidence to go off of.
Surprisingly, instead of going back to his office, Hotch spoke up. “Morgan isn’t used to being told no. He’s going to break down and beg.”
The team looked at Hotch incredulously. “I’ve never seen Morgan beg for anything,” JJ pointed out, and Hotch just shrugged.
“Well, are you willing to put your money where your mouth is?” Prentiss pressed.
Hotch sighed and shut the file he was holding. “I try not to make a habit out of betting on my subordinates' love lives.”
Rossi rolled his eyes. “He knows he’s wrong, he just wants to be a contrarian,” he told the team, baiting Hotch.
Hotch narrowed his eyes slightly. If anybody else had said that, he would have been able to walk away, but this was Rossi. So Hotch reached into his pocket and pulled out a twenty from his wallet.
“None of this goes on any sort of record.”
~~~~~~~
“Derek Morgan, you got shot?”
You stood up from your desk as soon as you saw Derek and his team walk through the glass doors. It was way after hours, but the news of a shoot out at their last crime scene got back to you, and there was no way you were going to be able to go home knowing that Derek got hurt.
The rest of the team all shared a glance and quickly dispersed, giving you and Derek as much privacy as possible.
Derek made his way over to you, trying to look like he was in less pain than he actually was. “Don’t worry, hot stuff,” he told you, slumping down into his seat. “It just hit my vest.”
You stormed over to where he was sitting, worry evident on your face. “Yeah, I’ve been shot in the vest before!” you reminded him. “It still hurts like hell! What were you thinking?”
Derek forced a smile and held your hand in one of his own. “Baby, I’m okay. Really. I could even show you, if you wanted proof. Then you can stare at my abs without feeling guilty.” He took his free hand and started to lift up his shirt, and you quickly yanked your hand away from his.
“Oh my god,” you groaned, already in the process of storming away from him. “I cannot believe that you are seriously hitting on my right now. You just got shot and you’re asking me out? Agh!”
You started to walk away but Derek caught your hand just in time, laughing as he did. “Okay, don’t go, I’m sorry. I just…” he trailed off, suddenly getting serious. “I just really needed to see your smile.”
You mustered up the best smile you could. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
Derek let out a long, audible exhale. “So am I,” he admitted. “I’ve never been more glad to be here doing paperwork.”
You rubbed your hands on the tops of your thighs. “I have some leftover takeout that I had for lunch. How about I heat that up and we can share it while I help you with your work?”
“You don’t have to stay. I’ll be fine.”
You shook your head. “No, I’ll stay. I have nothing else to do.”
Derek grinned and kissed the top of your hand. “You’re too good to me.”
You smirked. “I know.”
Pretty soon, the two of you were hunched over his desk, sharing bites of dinner and chatting easily as you trudged through paperwork.
You quickly learned that he liked to read Kurt Vonnegut and that his eagle tattoo was because of a nickname he had gotten in college. You told him about your fear of the ocean and the time you accidentally set off your high school’s fire sprinkler system during chemistry.
It was nice to be able to just talk to him. It felt like you and him had been friends for years and years, not just the past two months. This Derek Morgan was different from any other version of him, and you loved it. If you didn’t already have the biggest crush on him, this just solidified it. You really, really liked him, and you really, really wanted him to just ask you on a date already.
As the night went on, the two of you had moved closer and closer, until your shoulders bumped and your legs were pressed up against each other. If you both turned your faces to look at each other, your noses would brush. And from there, it would only be a few centimeters until your lips would be on each other…
“Thank you for helping me with this,” he said suddenly, breaking you out of your fantasy. He turned towards you, and you could feel his hot breath on your neck, sending shivers down your spine. “You didn’t have to stay, but… it meant a lot that you did.”
You smiled and tried to control your erratic heartbeat. “It was no problem. I’m happy to do it, anytime. Are you feeling any better?”
“A little,” he admitted. “But do you know what would make me feel even better?”
You finally turned to look at him, and his face was so much closer than you expected. “What is that?” you whispered, unable to force yourself to speak any louder.
Derek’s lips quirked up in a smile and he moved impossibly closer to you. His lips were brushing against yours, and all you had to do was lean in just a little bit. Then he met your eyes, and they really did sparkle, and for the first time in his adult life, Derek lost all of his nerve.
“You could kiss it better,” he suggested. “Because you are much hotter than any of the EMTs at the scene.” Derek grimaced internally, knowing that he came off sounding like an asshole. All he had to do was ask you on a date. It should have been easy. So why couldn’t he?
You closed your eyes and sighed exasperatedly, pulling away. “Wow, fumbled at the five yard line,” you teased, trying to hide your disappointment. You had thought that Derek and you were really having a moment, but maybe he really just didn’t want strings attached.
Derek frowned slightly, but tried to laugh it off. It was the first time that he thought he actually had a chance with you, and he blew it. “Yeah, I guess I did, huh?”
You fought a smile as you stood up out of your chair. “Mhm. But there’s always tomorrow. And since you’ve had such a rough past few days…”
You spun Derek’s chair around so that he was facing you, and you placed your hands on the arms of his chair, leaning over him. The two of you kept eye contact for what felt like ten years, and his cologne was making you dizzy. Slowly, you pressed a lingering kiss right on the corner of his lips. Derek’s breath got caught in his throat as you pulled yourself away, albeit on shaky legs.
“And that’s all the lovin’ you’re getting from me tonight,” you teased.
Derek leaned back in his chair, his hand over his heart in what looked to be a dramatic display of affection. In truth, he was trying to calm his rapid heartbeat however he could. “Oh, light of my life,” he cooed. “That’s more than enough. It’s the only win I’ve gotten all week.”
~~~~~~~
It had been a few days since your night in the office with Derek, and he hadn’t tried anything, which worried you. He wasn’t avoiding you, and the two of you still exchanged pleasantries throughout the day, but he wasn’t flirting with you anymore.
Part of you wondered if you were too harsh with him that night, if you should have just kissed him and gone home with him. But within the past few weeks, your infatuation with Derek Morgan had turned into a full blown crush, as juvenile as it sounded, and you did not want to be another notch in his bedpost. So you were willing to wait it out, to see if you would actually say the words: “Do you want to go out with me?”.
As if you had summoned him, Derek Morgan wheeled his chair over to your desk and put down a coffee cup from your favorite little cafe in front of you.
“Iced vanilla latte with oat milk?”
“You know both of my coffee orders?” you grinned. “I’m impressed.”
“Consider it a bribe,” Derek said, and you raised your eyebrow as a response.
“A bribe?”
“Please go out with me,” Derek asked, trying not to sound as desperate as he felt. “Pretty please. This was fun for a while, but now you are the only thing I think about. I can’t do my job, and I can barely sleep. I feel like I’m going crazy. You are so hot and so smart and so funny. Please let me take you on a date.”
The smile that grew on your face was so big that your cheeks started to hurt. “I’d love that.”
Derek seemed shocked that his attempt actually worked, and he blinked a few times just to make sure he heard you correctly. “Seriously? It’s a yes?”
“Mhm,” you nodded, taking a sip of the coffee Derek got you. “You finally asked me. Of course I said yes.”
“All I’ve been doing the past few weeks has been asking you,” he pointed out.
You hummed to yourself as you scrunched up your nose. “No. You told me that we were going on a date, asked me to have sex with you twice, and the rest of the times, you just used pick up lines. This is the first time you ever actually asked.”
Derek stared at your wordlessly, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to figure out what to say. Finally, he landed on: “That’s all it took?”
“Yup,” you replied, popping the ‘p’. “Although, I do want to hear more about my eyes and the meteor shower.”
Derek let out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head as he did. “I will be sure to tell you all about it. And more. I’ll pick you up at 8?”
You were practically beaming as you watched Derek stand back up. “That sounds perfect. Oh, and Derek? I hope you still have those candles out and ready to use.”
“Baby, I never put them away.” Derek winked at you before walking back to his desk. Prentiss was mumbling something about owing Hotch money, but Derek was so high up on cloud 9 that he couldn’t be bothered to care.
“See Reid,” Derek said as he took his seat at his desk. “That’s what we call ‘playing the long game’.”
“Finally,” Spencer grumbled, his nose buried in some book Derek didn’t recognize. “Took you long enough to realize.”
Derek’s eyebrows furrowed together. “You knew?”
Spencer scoffed, flipping the page of the book he was reading. “I knew from the first time they rejected you.”
Derek leaned forward, placing his elbows on his desk. “Man, why didn’t you tell me?”
Spencer finally looked up from his book, his eyebrow quirked up. “You were ‘playing the long game’,” he quoted in a bad impression of Derek’s voice. “And since I’m running it, I get a cut of the entire betting pool, no matter who won, so it was in my best interest to keep it going as long as possible.”
Derek shook his head in disbelief. “I see. That pretty face of yours is hiding an evil genius.”
Spencer hummed in agreement and went back to his book. There was a beat of silence before he spoke again. “They want you to take them to that Mediterranean place two blocks down.”
“Okay, there is no way you know that,” Derek groaned, rolling his eyes.
“You don’t have to take my advice, but you should. Clearly, you’re helpless,” Spencer shrugged, and Derek laughed as he threw a crumpled piece of paper at him.
When Derek picked you up that night, he made sure that the flowers he brought you were hypoallergenic, and the Mediterranean place ended up being the right choice, not that he would ever admit that to Spencer.
And he did, for the record, make sure to set out those candles he promised, but at the end of the night, the two of you were too busy tearing off each other’s clothes to even bother lighting them.
424 notes · View notes
bbugyu · 4 years ago
Text
daddy’s little monster + lee seokmin & yoon jeonghan
Tumblr media
the story of your side hustle, that both pays well and had some very lovely benefits.
prelude | part one | part two | part three | epilogue
wc.5195 | SMUT, like DIRTY SMUT, threesome, sugar daddy!jeonghan and musician!seokmin, aka my worst nightmare, hard dom vs service sub vs service dom, aka my other worst nightmare, fem reader, daddy kink, marking, cream pie, please use condoms, lk cucking? happy halloween!
i was gonna say this is porn without plot but in reality idk how to not make smut way too personal. and i have not stopped thinking about my seokhan sandwicch fantasies and desperately needed to get it out, so take my shame and run with it. gif literally does not match this at all but DONT WORRY ABOUT IT
~
seokmin knew that jeonghan, the prolific and sought after architect whom he considered a close friend, had a less than conventional relationship with a young woman, but he had never met her. didn't know what the two did beyond appear at fancy industry dinner parties together, or the occasional sleepovers that had been offhandedly mentioned when seokmin and him get drinks and grilled meat. he believed she was real - he had been told she was real, by a mutual friend who had attended said parties - but had never seen a picture of her. never been introduced. he dropped architecture, afterall, deciding instead to get a teaching degree while jeonghan continued his artistic engineering. he had no reason to attend the parties that jeonghan paid her to accompany him to.
so when he was slightly drunk at a halloween party being held at the architect's beautiful home, he thought nothing about the pretty girl giving him attention, other than the fact that she looked incredible in her cheerleading outfit and that she was sitting far too close to him to not be flirting.
"how do you know jeonghan?" you asked, perched on the sofa next to seokmin, fingers mindlessly fiddling with the zipper on his red and blue bomber jacket.
his arm was over the back of the sofa, and you were comfortably sitting in the negative space, your feet tucked beneath your baby blue pleated skirt. "we went to college together," he said.
your eyebrow quirked. "are you also an architect? i've never seen you around."
he smiled and shook his head, wondering why a pretty girl like you was wasting your time getting to know a guy like him if you frequented industry parties. "no, i dropped the program. too much math. i'm a music teacher."
he watched your eyes light up. "what kind of music?"
"piano and guitar, mostly," he said, shifting beside you when your knees brushed over his thigh. "i do some vocal coaching, also."
you gazed at his profile as he looked anywhere but at you, eyes briefly focusing on the little black heart drawn under his eye. "you do have a lovely voice."
"thanks," he said, smiling when he turned to look at you, almost faltering when he realized you were leaning into him. "but you haven't heard me sing."
you paused, staring at his lips. "i'd like to," you breathed, and seokmin's hand dropped from the couch to find the small of your back, a shiver running up your spine when his fingers ran over the waistband of your skirt.
"y/n."
with great difficulty, you looked away from his lips to the source of your name being called, smiling lightly when you saw who had summoned you. you put a hand on seokmin's chest.
"i'll be right back, okay?" he kept watching your lips as you spoke. "promise me you won't go anywhere?"
seokmin gave you a lopsided smile, fingers brushing over your skin still. "promise."
you pulled yourself off the couch, purposefully giving him a bit of a view as you leaned over to slip your feet back into your sneakers, walking over to the man that had called your name. seokmin watched you swing your hips side to side, then cursed under his breath when jeonghan's hand snaked around your waist only a few meters in front of him, putting the pieces together in his mind.
"i see you like my friend," jeonghan muttered, handing you the drink you had asked him for. he was dressed as a man in black, which was wholly unoriginal considering he wore many suits regularly, but you figured your cheerleading costume wasn't leaving much more to the imagination than any of the dresses he usually picked out for you.
"you never told me you were friends with a musician," you teased. "afraid i wouldn't call you?"
he laughed, sneakily pulling up the hem of your skirt and watching over your shoulder as seokmin tried not to stare. "you'll always call me."
you bit at your lip, smiling. "yes, daddy."
"are you sure about him?"
you peeked over your shoulder, giggling when seokmin looked away from you and tugged at the knees of his black pleather pants. "isn't he perfect?"
"i like seokmin," jeonghan said, drawing your attention by taking off his sunglasses, hooking them in his lapel pocket. "he's one of my closest friends. i want you to be absolutely sure."
you paused, considering his tone and looking into his amber eyes. "i'm positive."
jeonghan smiled, pulling you into him for a quick kiss. "go tell him the good news, sweetheart."
you grinned, pulling away from him as he put his sunglasses back on and teasingly clicked his prop neuralizer at you. you giggled and sauntering back to the couch that seated the most adorable harley quinn you had ever seen.
"i'm back," you said, sipping at your drink as you settled back into seokmin's side. "sorry, you know how sugar daddies are. so demanding."
he choked out a laugh, still unsure despite your joking tone. "so, you and, uh, jeonghan-"
"yeah," you sighed, setting your drink down on the table beside the sofa and adjusting your posture, putting your knees on his thigh but keeping your shoes off the couch. "he likes my company, i like not paying for tuition."
"what are you studying?" seokmin asked, jumping at the opportunity to change the subject.
you smiled, tugging at his arm until he took the hint to put it back where it was before you were interrupted. "musical theory and recording arts."
he almost laughed. "you're unreal."
"i could say the same," you said, fingers fiddling with the opposite collar of his jacket. "can i ask you something? no pressure."
his eyebrows quirked upwards. "there's a little pressure."
you giggled, tugging at the collar lightly and smiling when he shifted to face you better. "genuinely, don't say yes just because i want you to, okay?" you only continued when he nodded, taking a deep breath. "so, jeonghan and i have been wanting to try something for a while, and he asked me to find someone tonight."
seokmin swallowed. "am i someone?"
you bit your lip. "yes."
his finger scratched at his cheek. "and he approves?"
your eyes flickered to where you and jeonghan had been standing, but the older was nowhere to be found. "yes."
"i-" he cleared his throat suddenly. "i just haven't- i don't know what i'm trying to say." he paused to collect himself. "i've never even considered doing anything like… that."
you giggled sweetly, and seokmin tried to not notice the way your hand ran over his chest. "i haven't done anything like this either," you assured him. "jeonghan's a little bossy, but he'll only be that way to me if you don't ask for it, i promise. and you don't have to do anything you're uncomfortable with, seriously, we can stop whenever, i just-" you bit at your lip briefly. "i just really want to make you feel good."
despite you telling him to not just say yes just for your sake, he had a hard time saying no after hearing your dark tone. any idea of saying no slipped his mind completely when you kissed him, slow and deliberate, your tongue tasting like cola and whiskey against his. he even went as far as pulling you into his lap, forgetting the context of the party surrounding him, his only thoughts about the way your thighs split over his lap and how soft your skin felt when his hands ran under your skirt.
"is this a yes?" you asked breathlessly, trying not to grind down on his pleather covered thighs.
he nodded at you with blown out eyes. "i'll try anything with you."
you grinned, finger brushing over the purposefully smeared lipstick across his cheek. "you're so cute."
he smiled at you, a hand running up your side as you leaned into him again. "not all the time," he muttered, and you couldn't help but gasp lightly when he bounced his leg under you. "want me to prove it?"
you kissed him again, unable to form any words to say yes but desperately needing to. when a hand landed on the back of your neck, you moaned into his mouth and pulled away, trying to catch your breath.
seokmin's hand pulled you into him again, and you whimpered lightly against his lips. "we need to go."
his lips barely left yours when he asked "where to?" and your fingers intertwined with his as you stood, pulling him off the couch to follow you.
you spotted jeonghan in the next room, and despite not knowing for sure if he noticed you two, you spun around playfully and pulled seokmin into you again, letting him kiss you deeply with his hands exploring your bare waist before you pulled away again to continue leading him away, the lopsided grin on his face never leaving.
the noise of the party dissipated as you pulled him up a flight of stairs and down a hall, stopping a few times to kiss against banisters in areas of jeonghan's home he had never been in.
"is this-" seokmin stopped himself as you closed the bedroom door, looking around at the grand but minimally decorated room - the main focal point being the large canopy bed against the far wall.
"jeonghan's," you said, pulling seokmin into you and resuming your feverish kisses. "it's the only bedroom i'm allowed in."
he briefly wondered what other rules the two of you had, but all but forgot about them when you were pushing his jacket off his shoulders, hands running over his chest. you tried to catch your breath as seokmin's mouth worked its way down your neck, but you couldn't stop whining.
"fuck, do you work out?" you asked breathlessly as he backed you up against the door, your hands not so subtly gripping at a bicep.
he chuckled against your neck. "i tune pianos, sometimes."
you briefly thought about him moving an upright to access the strings, and how you had to recruit the help of three friends to move the one jeonghan had bought for you. "you should come to my place, i've been meaning to get mine tuned for a while."
"you can just say you want to see me again," he said, a teasing smile on his lips as he pulled you off the door.
"you're sure about this, right?" you asked between kisses. "he'll notice we're missing and come looking. i don't want you to be surprised."
seokmin considered the concept of jeonghan walking in on his friend between your thighs, laid out on his bed, and the way his length flinched in his pants assured you that it was the best idea he had heard in a while. "i'm sure, i promise."
you bit at your lip again as you grinned, letting him overtake you with kisses as the back of your legs hit the bed.
"this little skirt, i swear to god," seokmin groaned, large hands squeezing at your ass through the fabric.
you gasped, your open mouth making seokmin groan deeper as he pulled you against his tented crotch. "jeonghan picked it out."
"i can tell," he said, staring down at the supposed team name you were meant to be cheering for. "angel, huh? does he call you that?"
"sometimes," you breathed, lips nipping at his neck. "he calls me the name on your chest more, though."
seokmin chuckled, almost completely forgetting about his own costume that he had mostly only picked because the shirt was so easy to find. he brought your lips back to his, kissing you deeply before pushing you down onto the soft mattress. "i want you to get comfortable."
you nodded excitedly, kicking off your shoes and watching him unbuckle his belt as you backed yourself up against the pillows. he kneed his way onto the bed, pants unzipped and shirt discarded, but stopped his undressing to crawl towards you, hands running over your split thighs. you groaned, hips rolling towards him just at the sight of him between your legs, and he gazed up at you sweetly.
"you're soaking through your panties."
you took a heaving breath. "you're super hot."
his lips skated over your inner thigh, and you gripped at the duvet as you tried to stifle a moan. his hands went under your thighs, squeezing at your ass before hooking under your panties, and you bit your lip to keep yourself from whining as he slowly pulled them off you, your skirt falling over your waist when you lifted your hips for him.
"oh, baby, look at you," he cooed, tongue darting out between his lips as he took in the sight. "is that all for me?"
you moaned, rolling your hips off the mattress again, staring at his shoulders as he settled. "fuck, seokmin, please-"
your pleas were interrupted by your own garbled moan as he put his tongue against your inner thigh, biting down on the soft flesh. your hand found his scalp, gripping as he sucked a sweet red rose into your thigh, kissing it gently before moving to repeat the action a little closer to your core.
"oh, god, s-seokmin-" you whined, bucking your hips against him. he gently held your wily hips down as he continued until he was satisfied with the marks, hoping they would stay a while. remind you of him when he wasn't around. his breath hit your core and you keened, desperately asking for his lips, but he only barely teased his tongue over your clit before planting his lips on your other thigh, drawing a shaky moan from you as you gripped his hair.
"fuck, please," you begged, wishing you could move your hips more freely, but his strong grip on you held you in place.
when seokmin decided he was happy with the delicate roses between your legs, he looked up to you, observing the way your chest heaved and you panted, your eyes blown to all hell. your fingers tightened in his hair when he rolled out his tongue, slowly dragging it through your folds.
you moaned, your voice sounding choppy and desperate even to you as your neck stretched out in pleasure. "g-god!"
he hummed against you, his lips kissing at your clit and tongue running over you alternately. you shook as he lapped at you, and he pulled his hands out from under your ridden up skirt in order to push your thighs back, allowing him more comfortable access as you groaned, blue stained fingers leaving his hair to grip at the duvet.
"fuck, seokmin, i'm already so close-"
he hummed again, pulling away but putting two fingers over your core instead, spreading your arousal through your folds and over your clit as he licked his lips. "is my mouth that good to you?"
you arched your back as he continued running his fingers over you. "it's so good."
he lapped at you again, making you let out a high pitched whine as he slowly slipped his fingers into your sweet, tight hole. your eyes shut and you moaned, squeezing his fingers as your arousal seeped out from around them. "your pussy is so cute," he muttered, eyes darting up to your face as you panted. he slowly began to curl his lean, long, instrument trained fingers in your core, pulling more pleas from your lips. "i bet it's cuter when you cum."
"fuck, please," you begged. "please make me cum."
seokmin groaned lightly as he sucked at your clit, rolling his hips against the mattress to relieve some of the pressure he felt from your fingers digging against his scalp, your taste on his lips, your whining moans in his ears.
you noticed the sound of the door, almost processing the meaning before your pleasure interrupted your own thought. "fuck, baby, right there!"
he groaned, digging his fingers further into you to spur your squealing as he flicked his tongue against you, and you practically thrashed against him as you came undone, your thighs pushing into his shoulders as your back arched against the mattress.
you whined dully when he pulled his mouth away from you, your fingers loosening their grip in his spray dyed hair. he never pulled his fingers out of you, not even as he crawled slowly over you, continuing to gently curl into you as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him into your chest.
"you started without me," jeonghan said finally, and seokmin smiled into your neck as you watched your sugar daddy pull off his tie, still whining lightly at the fingers in your cunt. "that wasn't what we agreed on."
"i- ah-" you gasped, thigh pressing against seokmin's arm when his thumb pushed against your clit. "i couldn't wait," you said, hooded eyes watching jeonghan approach.
"found yourself a cute toy, huh?" he quirked his eyebrow at the younger, noticing the way his shoulders rippled under your desperate fingers as he stood at the end of the bed. "are you gonna treat him nice, sweetheart?"
you nodded quickly, fingers finding seokmin's scalp again as you kissed him, loving the way you tasted on his lips. you gasped when he slowly pulled his fingers out of you, his hand running up your waist to hold you stay as he rut his clothed bulge into you, the feeling of cool pleather against your hot core making you moan against him.
"what do you want to do, sweetheart?" jeonghan prompted you, gently leaning against a bedpost as he adjusted himself in his pants
"i wanna ride," you said, breath fanning over seokmin's face as he blushed slightly. his red ears just made you move your hips again desperately. "fuck, seokmin, i need to ride you."
his movements stopped for a second, mind whirling with the idea of you bouncing on him. his thoughts were only interrupted by a voice.
"you heard her, seokmin."
he snapped into action, kissing you again as he shoved his slightly too tight pants down his hips, and you pushed him until he allowed you to roll him into his back. you tugged his pants down his legs, gulping at the bulge in his underwear.
"jesus, seokmin, you never said you were packing," jeonghan chuckled, observing the way you faltered when you noticed his length.
seokmin sucked in a labored breath when you ran your hands over his hips, teasing a thumb over his erection. "you never asked."
you tugged his underwear down over his hips, taking care to pull him gently out to avoid harm. you rolled your tongue out to draw a wet line up the underside of his heavy cock, enjoying the way it flinched up against you. 
"he likes tits," jeonghan said, shrugging off his blazer and walking to the side of the bed to toss it onto a chair. "lose the top, angel."
you smirked up at seokmin, suddenly extremely happy that the only one that interested you at this party was someone jeonghan knew. you slinked up his body to straddle his lap, the hem of your skirt teasing the head of his cock as it peeked out from under it. you kissed him first, and his hands ran up your thighs as he bucked his hips up to meet your bare core, but you hovered just out of reach. you sat up again, pulling the cheer top over your head and tossing it to the side.
seokmin groaned, hands finding your waist and running up your sides to squeeze gently at your breasts with his thumbs. "fuck, you're gorgeous."
"and you're huge," you said, finally grinding down against his length, pulling a deep groan from his chest. you backed up to stand his cock on end, pulling it against your stomach and practically choking when you saw how tall it stood, the tip far past the waistband of your skirt.
jeonghan whistled. "how are you gonna stuff all that in your tight little pussy, sweetheart?"
saliva gathered in your mouth at the thought. "like a good girl."
seokmin groaned again, hips bucking up to fuck into your hands. "stop teasing and take it, baby."
you got on your knees, positioning yourself over the head of his thick cock, and he practically bucked up into you when he felt your wetness at his tip. you gasped, sinking slowly, eyes watering slightly at the stretch and seokmin moaned, hands on your waist in support. you looked at jeonghan briefly, and he smiled, cock in hand, watching you as you sank slowly.
"stop," seokmin said, grip tightening on your waist. he panted as he held you in place, and you had an idea as to why he stopped you as you felt him pressing against your cervix. "i don't wanna hurt you."
his gentleness was a welcomed juxtaposition from jeonghan's usual intensity. you nodded, hands on his chest, then leaned forward to kiss him, gently fucking yourself on as much of his length as you could manage, readying yourself. his grip on your waist tightened, and he let out a beautiful whine when you dipped a little further onto him.
"careful," he breathed, and you sat up. your hands ran down his chest and over his stomach, then up your own body to gently coerce his fingers out of the deathgrip on your waist. he took the hint, running his hands up your torso and running his thumbs over your hardened nipples.
you groaned, your hips inching closer to his every time you bounced on his lap. it took everything in him to not take control, your pussy squeezing and pulling him further into you, the only sound in his ears your musical moans as you started to get desperate.
"fuck, you're so big," you said dumbly, unable to think of anything else. 
"you're so tight," seokmin said back. he hooked a thumb under your skirt, tugging it up to reveal how tightly your cunt hugged him. "fuck, you look so good filled up like that."
your hands found his thighs, leaning back as you rolled your hips over his. you choked out a moan, the angle nearly making you fold an instant. "d-daddy, can i cum?"
seokmin groaned and almost responded before jeonghan did. "go right ahead, angel. let him feel how good you are."
you sank down, your hips meeting seokmin's and a whining moan leaving you lips as he choked slightly. you fell forward onto his chest, giving him desperate, open mouthed kisses as you rolled your hips, your sensitive nub rubbing against his pelvis. you gasped, clutching at his hair as he pushed his hips up into yours, the coil in you snapping in you all while he muttered how good of a girl you were against your lips. his grip around you tightened as your grip around him did the same, the feeling of your tight cunt pulsating around him almost enough to get him off despite him steadying his hips as you shuddered on his chest.
"beautiful," jeonghan commented. "she looks good when you fuck her."
seokmin tried not to groan, but the involuntary movement of his hips triggered an unhidable moan from you. "never thought i'd enjoy being watched."
"i always knew you were a freak," the older said, continuing to pump himself. "you okay if i take a little control?"
seokmin finally looked over to his friend, eyes dropping to his cock as he gulped. "y-yeah."
"alright. sweetheart, time to get up. i want that skirt off."
you whined, grinding down on seokmin. he choked, and you dug your face into his neck.
"three..."
you whined again, louder this time, gripping a bicep as you took in a breath. "please, he feels so good-"
"two..."
you curled your toes in protest, and seokmin had the least control when you rolled your hips on his again, both of you letting out shaky moans. you heard your name as a warning, and you practically started crying from how badly you didn't want to remove yourself from him.
"y/n. one."
you caved finally, not wanting jeonghan to punish you in front of a guest, sitting yourself up suddenly and gasping at the feeling, seokmin's hands gripping your hips. you looked over to jeonghan, who had a smile on his face as he bit his lip gently.
"off, angel. you can have him again in a second."
you slowly pulled yourself off of seokmin's hard cock, and he had one hand keeping your skirt out of view, the other kneading reassuring circles in your thighs as you did. you both groaned when you managed to lift yourself off of him completely, and jeonghan watched your arousal drip from you onto seokmin's flushed cock.
"c'mere, sweetheart," jeonghan said, gesturing for you to come to the side of the bed where he stood.
you unzipped your skirt and let it fall to the mattress as you weakly kneed yourself over to him, thighs shaking. seokmin tucked one hand behind his head and wrapped the other around his cock, watching you intently as you came up to the eldest. he gripped your chin first, opening your mouth before him, and you rubbed your thighs together as you vocalised.
"embarrassed?" jeonghan asked, chuckling darkly when you nodded lightly. he spat in your mouth anyways. "don't let me make it to one next time."
you heard a groan behind you as you swallowed, then gasped when jeonghan's free hand found your ass, pulling you against him. he kissed you, and you had almost forgotten how his lips felt against yours, how his nimble tongue brushed against the back of your teeth in a way that made your knees wobble on the edge of the bed.
"i want him to ruin you," he muttered against your lips, grip tight on your jaw. "i want to see you fucked out on his fat cock, choking on my cum."
you nodded fervently, and felt the bed shift as seokmin sat up behind you. jeonghan smiled as he let you go, and you quickly backed up against the younger, gasping when his cock slipped between your thighs and his fingers pinched at your nipples, kneading your breasts tightly.
"fuck, she's incredible," he said, against your neck, and you couldn't help the sustained whine you let out. "i can't believe you never told me, han."
he chuckled, rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt. "i knew she'd like you too much. but you'll always call me, right, sweetheart?"
you whined again, watching as jeonghan gently kneed onto the bed, just to brush his lips against yours.
"answer me."
you quivered, grinding down on seokmin's cock and feeling his lips on your neck, but still focusing on the face before you. "yes, daddy."
he smiled, placing a gentle kiss on your nose before backing up again. "hands and knees. give us a minute, okay, minnie?"
the younger nodded, but groaned when you dropped forward, watching the way his cock fit snugly between your thighs. "tell me when."
you stared up at jeonghan as he put a hand on his cock, another in your hair, and slowly guided himself towards your lips. you puckered your lips to meet him, then opened your mouth and rolled out your tongue, lapping at the tip of his cock, tongue gliding under it as you desperately tried to suck him into your waiting mouth.
"oh sweetheart," he said, watching you with hooded lids. "you really want this, don't you?"
you whined, pushing back against seokmin, making his breath hitch. jeonghan finally pushed his hips forward, fucking once into your wet mouth, and you moaned on his cock as it hit the back of your throat. seokmin couldn't help but buck into your thighs, slightly desperate for friction as he watched you drip all over him. he tested his voice once, then quietly asked if he could finger you.
you moaned again, and jeonghan smiled as he fucked your mouth. "sounds like she wants it."
you let out a muffled whine when seokmin slotted two fingers into your pussy, your mouth too full to properly vocalise how good it felt. when he added another finger, you almost collapsed, and likely would have if jeonghan hadn't been holding you up by your hair.
"fuck her," he commanded, holding you on his cock and watching the way you looked up at him as you realized what that meant.
seokmin pulled his fingers out of you and placed himself at your entrance in their stead, sinking into you slowly. your eyes rolled back, drool dripping from either side of jeonghan's cock as seokmin filled you out.
"fuck," he said, gripping your hips and trying to stop himself from pushing all the way in. "fuck, you're so wet."
you let out another muffled noise, pushing back onto him as he choked. jeonghan watched the tears well up in your eyes, mouth stretched around his cock.
"angel," he paused, pulling from you slightly. "are we still green?"
you nodded, rolling your tongue around him to prove it. he smiled at you, then quietly told seokmin to fuck you full.
and he did. you whined and babbled, every thrust of seokmin's hips pushing you onto jeonghan's cock until he hit your throat. you didn't know how long it continued. you heard a honey voice you were familiar with, but you couldn't tell if the teasing words were directed towards you or the man behind you. you couldn't even register fully what was happening when you felt fingers circling your clit, and you wailed as you came, thighs quaking and throat full.
"oh, fuck, i'm gonna cum," seokmin said quickly. he gasped. "fuck, can i cum?"
jeonghan grinned, one eye closing more than the other as he huffed, feeling close to his own release. "fill her up."
seokmin jerked into you three more times before he steadied his hips and let out a deep, melodic groan, buried deep in you as his cum leaked out around his thick cock. you were still moaning, unsure if you could ever stop making noises, but quickly pulled yourself together as jeonghan came down your throat.
you choked once, but swallowed around him, and he gripped his fingers against your scalp as you did. when he finally removed himself from your mouth, you panted and collapsed onto the bed, unable to catch your breath with seokmin still hilt deep in you.
"what a perfect girl," jeonghan muttered, brushing his damp hair off his forehead, gazing down at you. "smart, funny, and an angel in bed. and you-" he said, smirking at seokmin when he finally lifted his head from your spine, even if it was only for a moment. "you surprised me. if you're down, i'd like to do this again."
he tried to catch his breath, but couldn't help the way his hips involuntarily pushed into yours, fucking his cum deeper into you. he just nodded against your spine as you moaned, feeling his cum drip down your thighs.
jeonghan tsked. "you got your hair dye all over my white sheets."
669 notes · View notes
squiggledrop · 4 years ago
Text
Day 25: Proposing on Christmas - Spencer x Reader
Tumblr media
Masterlist
Ficmas 2020
Listen to my Christmas Playlist!
Summary: Ficmas Day 25
Word Count: 2.1k
Pairings: Spencer Reid x Reader
Tumblr media
Snow fell outside as a thin layer of frost formed on the cold window. You rolled over, taking in a deep breath as you curled into Spencer. You felt his arms tighten around you and a thin smile graced your lips. 
“Merry Christmas”, you whispered, placing a soft kiss on his stubbly cheek. Spencer hummed, kissing your forehead.
“Merry Christmas, baby”, he smiled. You looked up at him, his warm chestnut eyes holding your gaze. “You want to get up, or cuddle for a bit longer?”, he asked. He looked at you with a smile and a knowing glint in his eyes.
“Just a few more minutes”, you sighed, pulling the covers up further. Spencer gave the tip of your nose a quick kiss before closing his eyes and snuggling back into you. Resting your head on his chest, you could hear his steady heartbeat through his grey t-shirt. You closed your eyes, calmed by the feeling of being so close to Spencer.
After about a half-hour of cuddles, you began to hear Spencer’s stomach grumble, eliciting a slight giggle from you. Spencer smiled, rubbing your back, as he looked down at you.
“Alright, let’s get you some food mister”. You gently patted Spencer’s chest as you sat up in the bed.
“Can we have some of the stollen?”, he asked, eyes lighting up. Every year you made a loaf of your grandmother’s stollen for Christmas morning, and it was Spencer’s favorite. He, of course, liked to drown in it powdered sugar, claiming it made it more festive. 
“Of course”, you said, leaning into him. You placed a chaste kiss on his lips, which he eagerly melted into. You pulled back and smiled, placing a gentle peck on his cheek before standing up.
As you made your way to the kitchen, Spencer followed behind with his arms wrapped around your waist and chin resting on your shoulder. You giggled, wrapping your arms across his as you waddled down the hall together. 
When you made it into the kitchen, you got out a cutting board and knife as Spencer put on a pot of coffee. As you cut the stollen, he came and stood behind you, enveloping you in his embrace again.
“Careful”, you giggled, the sharp knife wavering in your hand slightly at the contact.
“Sorry”, he mumbled shyly into your shoulder, pressing light kisses along your back. When you had finished cutting a slice for you both, you set the knife down and turned around. You placed your arms on his shoulder, running your fingers through the hair at the bottom of his neck. Spencer relaxed into your soft touch and began rubbing his hands up and down your back. You sighed, closing your eyes and basking in his touch. Spencer pulled you closer, your head slotting underneath his chin. He pressed a kiss onto your head before resting his chin on your shoulder and pulling you in for a proper hug. You both stayed there for a moment, letting the scent of coffee and the other’s shampoo fill your lungs. 
Upon hearing Spencer’s stomach rumble again, you let out a soft chuckle before giving him a tight squeeze. Spencer let out a mumbled whine you pulled apart, but you shook your head playfully as you handed him the plates of food.
“Here”, you smiled, “take these in and I’ll follow with the coffee”. Spencer nodded, eagerly eying the food in front of him.
“Don’t forget the powdered sugar”, he smirked as he walked towards the couch.
“I won’t”, you teased. You poured two cups of coffee into the holiday mugs you picked up at the inn you stayed at. Each one had a snowy scenery with a horse-drawn carriage, and upon the top, in red script, it read ‘the best part of Christmas is spending it with you’. As you stirred in a Spencer appropriate amount of sugar into his mug, you smiled, memories of the previous days replaying in your head. When you finished, you made your way into the living room and smiled as the glowing Christmas tree came into view.
“Here, babe”, you said, handing Spencer his cup of coffee.
“Mmm, thank you”, he hummed, taking a sip. He handed you your plate and you gave him the bag of powdered sugar. A wide grin grew on his face as he lathered it onto his stollen. You watched as took a bite, a satisfied sigh leaving his lips at the taste. 
“This is so good,” he complimented through mumbled chews, “You did a really good job”. You chuckled slightly, noticing he had some powdered sugar on his chin.
“Thanks, baby”, you smiled, bringing your hand to his face and gently dusting off the excess sugar. Spencer blushed at the intimacy of your kind gesture and came to sit right next to you. He leaned his head on your shoulder, pressing your sides together. You both sat there, eating and sipping on your coffee as you enjoyed the other’s presence.
“I love you”, Spencer said softly between bites. You looked down at him and smiled, hoping that three words could compensate for the multitude of love you held for him.
“I love you too”, you gleamed. Spencer looked up at you for a moment and gave you a sincere smile before turning back to his stollen. He knew everything would be fine, perfect even, but that didn’t stop him from hoping you couldn’t hear how fast his heart was beating.
When you had both finished eating, you began opening the presents that sat under the tree. With every gift that was opened, Spencer could feel his heart rate increase. As you were opening your last gift, he rubbed his sweaty palms on his flannel pants, hoping you wouldn’t notice.
You, however, were also a profiler and knew something was up by the way he was nervously playing with his lip. As you unwrapped the gift, you watched Spencer’s sporadic eyes dart from your face, to the present in your hand, to the back of the tree, and then down to the floor beside him. 
“Spence are you okay?”, you asked, slightly worried. Spencer felt his throat go dry at your words, and he nodded, trying to form a sentence. “You sure?”, you asked, comfortingly placing your hand on his arm. Spencer sighed at the contact, looking down at your joined skin. He took in a deep breath and a small smile played on his lips.
“Yeah”, he said, nodding at you. He took your hand in his and ran his thumb across the back of your palm. “I um, I think there is one last present behind the tree”, he said softly, motioning to the tree. Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked.
“Spence I don’t think so”, you giggled, looking at him quizzically.
“No, I’m pretty sure there is”, he insisted. “Um, why don’t you go check”. You were about to say something, but you closed your mouth and let out a soft sigh. You chuckled slightly and got up, figuring it would be easier to just check. 
Spencer watched as you stood up and walked towards the tree. You bent over, looking behind it, making sure there was nothing there. And, to your suspicions, there wasn’t.
“Spence, babe, I told you”, you said, turning around, “there wasn’t any-”. You gasped, bringing your hand to cover your mouth. When you turned around, you were met with Spencer on one knee in front of you, holding a tiny velvet box in his hand. Tears welled in your eyes at the sight of him, and it took everything in you to will your shaking legs to keep you standing.
“(Y/n)”, Spencer started, trying to hold back tears, “Italian composer, Giuseppe Verdi, once wrote ‘I saw you and fell in love, and you smiled because you knew’. From the first day I saw you and your contagious smile and heard your enchanting laugh, I knew you were it for me”. Tears rolled down your cheeks, and you dropped to your knees, holding onto every word that came out of Spencer’s mouth.
“I love you so much, and I want to spend every day for the rest of my life showing you. I love you because you are my best friend, in the truest sense of the word. You are the person I want to wake up to every morning and the person I want to come home to every night. With one look, you know exactly how I am feeling, and you always know how to make my day better. For the past month, I’ve been trying to fathom how I could condense my love for you into the finite constraints of the English language, and with every attempt, it doesn’t fully capture the extraordinary phenomena that is you”. You watched as Spencer took in a shaky breath, so you reached out your hand, which he gratefully held onto. You smiled at him, and he nodded a silent thank you before continuing.
“I didn’t know it was possible to love someone this much, but every day you prove me wrong time and time again. And I never want you to stop proving me wrong. I love the way you challenge me and how you’ve turned my world upside down, and I love that you let me see the world through your unique point of view, and I hope you always let me because it’s beautiful”. He stopped for a moment, blinking away some tears. He swallowed before looking back up at you, his amber eyes looking deep into yours.
“You are beautiful. You are the most radiant, caring, stubborn, sarcastic person I know. And because of that, you are also the most beautiful person in the world. I want to have kids with you, and I want to raise them in a gingerbread house with you”. You both let out a giggle through your tears at his words. You smiled at Spencer as if he held the whole universe in his palm, because to you, he did. 
“I want to grow old with you and sit in a nursing home while I read and you ramble about random things while we hold hands”. 
“Hey”, you sobbed through a smile, “that’s our regular Friday night”. Spencer giggled, shaking his head before he continued.
“I want to travel the world with you, and take every nap with you in my arms. When I say you are my whole world, I mean it literally”. He looked deep into your eyes, holding your hand. “You are my whole world. I honestly don’t know what I would do without you. No matter where I am or what I am doing, you are always on my mind, not consuming every thought, but rather always in the background, giving me words of encouragement when I need it or just a silly comment when I need to smile. You never fail to make me smile, and I want to spend the rest of my life making sure I’m the cause for yours”. He paused again, taking a deep breath. He looked at you through blurry eyes and smiled, “(Y/n) (Y/l/n), will you marry me?”
“Yes”, you cried, nodding as you flung yourself into Spencer’s arms, “Of course I’ll marry you, Spence”. Spencer clung onto you, happy tears rolling down his cheeks. He had never felt so elated in his entire life. 
“I love you so much (Y/n)”, he whispered into your hair, “so, so much”. He placed a kiss on your neck, as you felt your own tears leaving a stain on his shoulder.
“I love you too”, you whimpered. You lifted your head slightly so that you could see his face, and you promptly attached your lips. Spencer sighed into the kiss, neither of you caring about the salty tears mixing in your mouths because it was perfect. Everything was perfect.
When you finally broke apart, breathless, Spencer took the ring out of the box and took your hand in his. He gently slid the ring onto your finger and placed a tender kiss on it. He pulled you back into a tight hug, relishing in the way it felt to hold his fiancé. 
“Merry Christmas, (Y/n)”, Spencer spoke as he sniffed. You let out a faint laugh, your heart never having felt this full.
“Merry Christmas, Spence”, you whispered back. You held onto each other tightly, grateful that you had forever to spend smiling in each other’s arms.
315 notes · View notes
queenxxxsupreme · 4 years ago
Note
Heyo! 💖I just wanted to say that I completely ADORE your works and I was wondering if you could maybe give us some dad!Witcher reactions to when the reader goes into labor? Totally up to you, only if you want to and if your comfortable with this!☺️ again, I love your work so much and I really love seeing the boys being included in amazing fics and hcs💕
A/N: This has also been sitting in my box for a while, and many people have asked about this, so I’m glad it’s finally done. You can all thank @pressedinthepages for helping me out with Geralt cause he’s the reason y’all haven’t gotten this sooner. Thank you again baby!!!
Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, labor, pregnant lady going into labor but not the actual birth part, just labor pains and water breaking :)
***
Lambert 
You sucked in a sharp breath, your hand coming to hold your side. 
“What’s wrong, Y/N?” Lambert sat up in his chair, brows drawing together as he looked across the table at you.
“I-I’m okay.” You told him, rubbing your ribcage. “The baby just kicked me.”
“Doesn’t seem like they’ve stopped moving at all today.” Ciri commented. She sat next to you, talking to you about different names for your unborn child. 
“They haven’t. I think they’ve gotten too big. There isn’t enough room in there for the little thing.” You rubbed the side of your stomach. “Anytime they stretch, they bruise one of my organs.”
You started to stand up, needing to stretch your legs. 
“Where are you going?” Lambert followed you with his gaze. 
“Just for a little walk.”
“Thought you couldn’t walk too far ‘cause your ankles hurt.”
“They do, but sitting hasn’t helped my back at all. It's making my legs hurt even more.”
Lambert stood to his feet, a mug of ale in one hand, and moved to your side. 
“The baby needs room to move. They can’t do that if I’m sitting down.”
He placed his free hand on the small of your back, offering what little support he could. 
“They need to get a move on and get here soon.” Lambert thought out loud. He used his shoulder to push open a door that would take you out to the courtyard. 
“Can’t rush a pregnancy, love.” You sighed gently, though you agreed with him.
“Just don’t like seeing you hurting knowing I can’t do anything to make it better.”
“I’ll be okay.” You looked over to him to meet his gaze, offering him a little smile. 
“But what if you aren't?” He stopped, his hand slipping from your back to your hand. “What if…. What if you don't make it through this? Through having the baby? What if…. I-I’ve heard stories-,”
“Lambert, I’m giving birth to our child here at Kaer Morhen with Yennefer and Triss. Should anything happen, I trust them to do what's needed to save both myself and the baby. So stop with all that nonsense.” 
Lambert nodded, knowing what you said was true. The safest place you could possibly be was Kaer Morhen where some of the best mages in the world were. 
“I just can't help worrying.” The witcher muttered shyly, putting his hand on your back once more to lead you through the courtyard. 
“I know.” You smiled softly. It was a rare sight to see the young witcher look so anxious and worrisome. “You’ve been worrying a lot recently.”
“‘Cause I know you're getting closer to having the baby. We’re…. I'm gonna be a father.” He shook his head like the mere thought was too good to be true. “Don't want to turn out like my old man. Damn bastard wasn't worth shit.”
“You'd never be like him, Lambert.” You assured him, looking over to admire his side profile. “You're too kind of a man.”
He scoffed. 
“Don't hurt my feelings like that, bug.” 
You grinned. 
“Besides, if you need to be put in your place, Eskel and Geralt would gladly kick your ass. Though I know it will never be needed.”
“What about us kicking Lambert’s ass?” Geralt asked as he and Eskel moved towards you two. 
“Y/N said she doesn't think you two could beat me.”
You elbowed Lambert in the side. 
“How are you feeling today, Y/N?” Eskel asked you. 
“Not too great, if I'm honest. Though today it doesn't feel like a rib has been kicked out of place.”
The three boys began to chat about something Vesemir was asking them to work on together. It was a fallen wall on the west side of the keep. 
You weren't paying too much attention, shifting your weight from one foot to the other every now and again. You slipped your arm around Lambert’s holding the inside of his elbow. You didn't want to just excuse yourself and walk away. Lambert would follow you and not even finish talking to Eskel and Geralt. You figured you could endure standing just a little longer. 
But then the pain between your hips sharpened and took your breath away. Your grip on Lambert tightened. There was a wetness between your legs that made you furrow your brows.
“Oh gods.” You whispered. 
“What?” Eskel asked you. Lambert was in the middle of taking a sip of his ale and hadn't had the chance to ask first. 
“I think the baby’s coming.”
The father-to-be choked on his ale, coughing and sputtering. He hit his fist against his chest, struggling to speak. 
“What?!”
“I’m going into labor, Lambert.” 
“The fuck you are.” His voice nearly cracked. 
“Eskel, give me a hand, please.” You weren't too sure how Lambert would react so you needed someone you knew wouldn't freak out. 
Eskel moved to your side, holding his arm out to allow you to use him for support. Lambert remained on the other side of you, one hand on your lower back and the other on your arm. His ale had been discarded, no longer important to the witcher. 
“How-How do you-I mean, how do you know they’re coming?” Lambert stumbled over his words worse than you'd ever seen. 
“I do believe my water just broke, love.” You met his gaze, smiling softly. Though you wanted to scream and curse at the gods for the pain you were feeling, you needed to stay calm for him. 
With Eskel’s help, Lambert’s rambling promises that everything would be okay, and Geralt’s moral support from right behind you, you were able to make it to the room designated for this very occasion. You knew it would be wise to have a room on the main level just in case you weren't up in your room when the time came to deliver. 
Geralt went to gather Yennefer and Triss while you carefully sat down on the edge of the bed. Eskel went to stand just outside of the doorway so that he was far enough away to give you both some privacy but close enough that if you needed anything, he'd be there. 
“Should-Should you lay back?” Lambert asked you, brushing your hair back out of your face. 
“No, love. I’m fine. I’m-I’m fine.” Your voice cracked as you softly shook your head, tears filling your eyes and blurring your vision. 
“Why are you crying? Are-Are you okay? Is the baby okay? Is something wro-,”
“Lambert, I love you but please breathe.” 
“I am breathing! Are you breathing?”
Your head fell forward, hands gripping your knees as the tears left your eyes. A surge of pain tore through your pelvis. 
Lambert saw the way your strong facade was crumbling. He needed to be strong for you. He needed to swallow his fears and be there for you. You were doing all of the hard work. He was just there to watch and encourage you. He had no right to freak out. 
It took the witcher a few minutes to gather himself, to tell himself over and over that you would be okay. Then he was able to elevate his heartbeat and focus on you. 
“Hey, hey, bug.” His tone softened. He turned your head to him, his thumb stroking your flushed cheek. “I'm right here, okay?”
“Lambert, it-it hurts.” You whispered, turning your head to bury your face in his neck. 
“I know, bug. ‘M sorry.” He rubbed your back, pressing kisses to the side of your head the best he could. “But you know what?” 
He pulled back and you had no choice but to pull your head away from him. 
“If there is anyone here in this keep that could do this, that could go through this, it's you.”
“That's-That’s not true.” You shook your head. “You-You’re strong. You survived the trials. You're a witcher for crying out loud!”
“And he's the biggest cry baby you’ll ever see.” Geralt spoke from the doorway. You smiled a little, wiping your cheeks. 
“That’s debatable.” Lambert muttered. 
Triss and Yennefer entered the room. Yennefer stayed off to the side while Triss came to you. Yenn was there for backup if Triss needed it. 
“You ready for this, bug?” Lambert asked you, rubbing your knee. 
You bit your bottom lip, nodding your head. 
Eskel 
You slammed one of the cabinets in the kitchen shut and turned to gather the rest of the clean dishes from the woven basket on the table. 
“Y/N, you really should let someone else take care of that.” Eskel said. 
“No one else knows how to put them away the right way.” You told him. There was no kindness in your voice, no peaceful tone to your words. You sounded bitter and angry. 
“I don’t think there’s really any wrong way to put away dishes.” Lambert thought out loud. 
“And that’s exactly why I’m putting them away.” 
“Y/N, let me help-,”
“No!” You cut Eskel off, turning to face him. “Just let me do this! Let me put these away so they are done right.”
Eskel stopped walking towards you, brows drawn together. 
“Eskel.” Geralt said his brother’s name and beckoned for Eskel to join him and Lambert at the table. 
Eskel looked back at you once more before going to his brothers. He sat down next to Geralt, arms resting on the table.
“What is up her ass?” Lambert whispered low enough so you couldn’t hear. 
“I don’t know.” Eskel shook his head, eyes finding you. “She’s been like this since she woke up.”
“Yeah, I know. She’s made the whole keep feel like hell today.”
“Is something wrong with her?” Geralt asked. 
“She won’t tell me if anything is wrong. She’s just been an entirely different person all day.”
The witchers fell silent as Jaskier entered the room. 
“Good evening, Y/N!” The bard chirped. 
You were reaching a shelf that was probably a little too high up for you, so he decided to offer a hand. 
“Let me help you, darling-,”
“Fuck off, bard!” You snapped at him, placing the plate down on the counter with enough force to nearly break it. “Just-Just leave me alone! What is with you men not understanding a gods damned word coming out of my mouth today?”
You stormed across the room, jaw locked and eyes set on the door you wanted to leave through. Well, to say you stormed through was a little bit of an exaggeration. With your enormous pregnant belly, the most you could do was angrily waddle.
The witchers and the bard watched you leave the room, the door slamming shut behind you.
“That was absolutely terrifying.” Jaskier put his hand over his heart. “What did I say to make her so explosive?”
“It’s not you, Jaskier.” Eskel shook his head, pushing himself to his feet. “I’m sorry about that. She’s…. She’s never like this.”
“I’ve faced bloodthirsty alps and I can honestly say I’d rather deal with them than an angry Y/N.” Lambert shook his head. “Good luck, brother.”
Eskel felt as though he’d need more than luck to deal with you. 
He found you in the courtyard, resting on a stool by the goats’ enclosure. Your legs were parted and you braced your hands on your knees. Your eyes were closed tightly. 
“Are you okay, doll?” 
You didn’t answer him. This worried the witcher. He moved to kneel down in front of you. His hand slipped around your stomach, holding you tenderly.
“Y/N, my love, please answer me.” He begged quietly, brows drawn together. 
Your eyes opened, glossy and red. You shook your head gently. You knew that if you spoke, you’d lose what control you had over the situation. 
“Please, Y/N. Just-Just tell me what’s wrong.” Eskel reached up to brush a few pieces of hair out of your eyes. 
“Nothing.” You shook your head, pulling his hand away from your face. You rubbed your face and tried to stand up but he wouldn’t let you. 
“It’s obviously not nothing. You’ve been acting weird all morning. Is everything okay with you? With the baby?”
“I’m fine, Eskel.” You spoke through your teeth as a surge of pain drove through your hips. You removed his hand from your stomach, his touch burning in a way that made the pain worse. 
“No, you aren’t. You’ve been avoiding me all day, Y/N, and-and you’ve been mad at everyone who talks to you.” He placed his hands on his thighs, feeling hurt that you’d push his hand off of you. So many thoughts ran through his mind and his stomach churned. Why had you pushed him away? Why were you avoiding him? Why were you angry at him and at everyone else?
“Did I do something?” His voice was weak and timid.
“No, Eskel.” You shook your head, rubbing your eyes once more.
“Then please, Y/N.” He begged, heart racing in his chest. “Please just tell me what is wrong so I can make it better. I-I-I feel so helpless. You’re angry and you’ve been harsh with everyone. You’ve never raised your voice at me, let alone the others. Something is wrong, Y/N, and I-I can’t leave you alone until you tell me what it is.”
Your head hung and your eyes squeezed shut tightly. He could hear how furiously your heart was pounding. Tears fell from your eyes as you brought your hands up to cover your face. You shook your head.
“I-I can’t- Eskel, I can’t do this. Everything hurts so bad.” You cried, finally leaning forward to rest your head on his shoulder.
“What hurts, my love?” He pressed kisses to the side of your head, one hand coming up to embrace you in a careful hug while the other rubbed the outside of your thigh. 
“I’m so scared, Eskel. I-I can’t-I can’t do this. I can’t.” Your tears dampened his neck but he didn’t mind. Your breath was hot and your fingers dug into him so tightly he thought for sure he’d have bruises. 
“You have to explain to me what is hurting, doll.” He pulled away just enough to cup your face and brush his thumbs over your flushed cheeks. “If I don’t know what’s wrong, I can’t help you.”
“I-I’m-I’m sorry I’ve been so angry and so mean.” You leaned into his touch. “The baby- It’s coming.”
Eskel’s brows drew together and he looked down at your stomach for a moment.
“What?”
“My-My water broke this morning.” You shook your head. “But I-I-I can’t do this, Eskel! I can’t do this! I’m-I’m so scared! I can’t!”
“Y/N, look at me.” He held your face between his large hands, tilting your head up so you had no choice but to look at him. “Why didn’t you let me know when it happened? You’ve been moving around so much today. You should’ve been sitting down and resting until the baby comes.”
“I can’t do it, Eskel.”
“Yes, you can.” 
Even though you were freaking out and crying, he was calm. He took your hand in his and tucked your hand underneath the neck of his shirt. He placed your hand directly over his heart and applied a little pressure, wanting you to feel his heart beating steadily.
“You need to calm down, doll.” His voice was gentle and tender, matching his eyes and his touch. “Everything will be okay. I know you’re hurting right now but it will be over soon. Okay?”
You nodded. He leaned forward to press a kiss to your lips and then your forehead. 
“Let’s get you inside and to a bed.” He stood to his feet and held his arm out for you.
Geralt
You shivered a little, pulling one of the numerous cloaks you wore tighter around your body. 
“Are you cold, dove?” He asked, his hand immediately finding the small of your back. 
“Just my nose.” You explained. “The wind is terrible today.”
You had wanted to go on a walk around the grounds of the keep, feeling the need to stretch your legs. You walked alongside him, your arms weaved together. 
“Do you need my cloak?” Geralt asked, starting to take his off. 
“No, no, Geralt.” You shook your head, almost laughing at him. “I’ve got plenty of layers on. I don’t need anymore.”
The White Wolf had made sure you were wearing at least six layers before you both ventured outside. You were sure you had on one of his cloaks and maybe even Lambert’s or Eskel’s. You didn’t mind though. The cloaks were nice and cozy, and they smelled like Geralt, all musk and fire and steel.
Geralt’s arm slipped out of yours so he could go down the steps first. He held his hand out for you, eyes carefully watching your footing to make sure you wouldn’t fall down the four stone steps. 
“Why thank you, good sir.” You grinned just a little, placing your hand in his. 
“My pleasure.” His grin was a little less prominent than yours, but it still warmed your heart. 
You began to lead the way to the little area the goats were kept. You wanted to check on them and make sure they’d be warm enough for the evening.
Before you could reach the goat enclosure, a sudden wave of heat came over you. You stopped walking and started desperately tearing at the cloaks in an attempt to take them off. 
“Y/N?” Geralt furrowed his brows together. “What are you doing?”
“I’m-I’m just too hot.” You handed him the top cloak and then the next one. 
“It’s far too cold for you to be in such little-,”
“Geralt, I am too hot for all those layers.” You told him firmly. Your heart started racing and a thin layer of sweat covered your skin. With the wind, this chilled you but at the same time, you felt like you were on fire. 
You were down to your last cloak when you finally felt a little comfortable. The wind shifted and suddenly Geralt knew what was happening. He could sense the changes in your body, the chemical ones no one else would have been able to detect. 
“Are you hurting?” He asked, furrowing his brows together. 
Before you had a chance to answer him, you sucked in a sharp breath and put your hand on the side of your stomach. It was as if your body had waited for the perfect moment to start having contractions. 
“We need to get you to the bedroom.” Geralt spoke mostly to himself. He handed you the cloaks and then, before you could object, he very carefully picked you up bridal style. 
***
Geralt placed you carefully down on the bed. 
You stayed sitting up, one leg hanging off while the other was bent. Your head hung as you tried to focus on your breathing, to listen to what your body was telling you. 
The pressure between your hips didn’t seem to be growing, but it was there and it was bothersome. 
You looked up to see where your dear husband had gone. 
He was moving around the room almost frantically. He checked the windows to make sure there wasn’t a draft coming in. He checked all of the candles lit around the room for when the sun went down. He didn’t want them to run out and leave him in the dark with you in labor. He could see just fine without light, but you wouldn’t be able to see. He checked the chest at the foot of the bed to make sure clean blankets and linens were there should they be needed. 
As he was moving across the room to check the fire in the hearth, you called his name. He stopped in his tracks and turned to face you. 
Your eyes were squeezed shut and you were leaning forward, one hand on the bed in front of you and the other on your stomach. 
“Y/N?” He wanted to move towards you but his boots seemed stuck to the wooden floor beneath him. 
You didn’t realize until then that his eyes were glossy and he was fighting back tears. 
“Why are you crying, my love?”
He looked away from you for a moment, trying to gain control of his emotions. 
“I don’t like seeing you in pain.” He explained, clearing his throat. “I-I’m the reason why you’re hurting and there isn’t a damned thing I can do about it.”
Your heart melted hearing him sound so upset and concerned. 
“Oh, Geralt.” You murmured his name. “Come here. Come sit with me. Please.”
Geralt didn’t hesitate to move to your side. Before getting on to the bed, he leaned down and kissed the top of your head. The mattress dipped beneath his weight behind you. 
“Lean on me, dove.” He kissed the side of your head, his hands slipping around your sides. 
You sunk back against him, eyes fluttering shut as the pain seemed to ease up. The new position didn’t put so much pressure on your back. 
His hands, large and warm, rubbed the sides of your stomach. He tucked his nose into your hair, eyes closing as he breathed in and out, listening to your heartbeat and the one inside of you. 
Whenever a contraction came around, you’d tense up and he’d rub your stomach. He’d whisper in your ear how strong you were, how much he loved you, and how happy he was. 
After a few minutes of sitting in silence, you spoke. 
“Geralt? Tell me a story.” You rubbed his hand that rested on your stomach. 
“What kind of story?”
“Of your time with Jaskier before I met you. I miss him, Geralt.”
“I know.” Geralt kept his lips against the side of your head. “He’ll be here soon.”
Geralt began to tell you of one of the many times Jaskier was the reason they were run out of town. He’d pause for a moment when a contraction came, hesitating to make sure you were okay. 
It killed him that there wasn’t anything he could do to stop the pain or lessen it. This had to happen. Yes, it wasn’t fun and yes, he felt so useless, but soon, his child would be in his arms with you at his side. 
Taglist: @pressedinthepages @mishafaye @whitewolfandthefox @wolfyland07 @belalugosisdead @persephonehemingway @keira-hulmaster @dinonuggs69 @greatestauthorofmygeneration @shadow-hunters-lover @dancingwith-thesunflowers @tedi-fach-las @thecomfortofoldstorries @raspberrydreamclouds @natkowaa @disasteren @weathervanes-my-oneandlonely @onlyhenrys @wackylurker @criminaly-supernatural @magpie343 @permanently-exhausted-witcher @hina-chans-stuff @the-space-between-heartbeats @havenoffandoms @carriebee1 @ger-bearofrivia @naominami @writingawaymylife @reaganjenelle @theawkwardpedestrian @scarlettwitcher @badassspaceprincess @just-a-sad-donut @summersong69 @an–actual–human–disaster @rubyqueen819 @omgkatinka @c-a-v-a-l-r-y @vonxcon @mazakeen @bravelittlesunflower @thereagles @awkward-turtles-world @menalliha @cotton_mo @maan24 @thefirelordm @monkeymo @krenee1drful @nympha-door-a @unadulteratedtreecrusade @Aquarius-pisces-rose @mentallyscreamingsincebirth @fl0ating @sometimesiwrite @crazybutconfidentaf @runawayolives @she-wolfoftheinquisition @onlygeraltofrivia  
179 notes · View notes
rainbowcaleb · 4 years ago
Link
Summary:
Essek and Caleb sit with their feet in the cool water of the pools of the Blooming Grove. It feels like anything could happen here; anything could be said.
a.k.a. what if we got a Blooming Grove confession, what if it looked like this?
(also read below.... it’s short and sweet).
 In the crowd of limbs and hugs and noise, it could be easy to miscount the number, but Caleb had been turning words over in his head for weeks now, and time never seemed to be on his side. But there was time now.
 He glanced around and instead of who he was looking for he caught the eye of Caduceus instead.
 Caduceus smiled like he knew what Caleb was about to ask and cut him off with a tilt of his head. “He wandered off five minutes ago. I think he’s heading towards the springs.”
 “Thank you.” He mouthed as he pushed his way through the happy and crying family, his own and the Clays, and went straight through the door and out.
 It didn’t take long to find him,  the purple and black stood out against the lush greens of the Grove. It was springtime. Impossibly, beautifully, time had kept moving forward while they were on their deadly quest, and the whole of the Grove was in bloom.
 Essek was sitting with his feet in one of the blue pools, his pants cuffed up to keep away from the water, and Caleb smiled remembering a hot tub so very long ago. The mantle was folded haphazardly beside him, still blood crusted and dirtied from all that had happened that week.
 Caleb settled beside him, kicking off his shoes to join his feet in the water. He didn’t turn to face Essek, not yet, but could see him straighten up and look over. Caleb instead watched the near invisible rise of steam from the hot spring, watched the gentle drop of a leaf from a tree onto the surface of the pool, watched the slow waves that echoed every kick of his feet in the water.
 “I’ve lost so much.” Caleb had to start this conversation somewhere.
 Essek glanced back at the house, the noise of crying and cheering still audible even at a distance. “And gained some back.”
 Caleb crossed his arms over his torso, still looking down into the pool. He didn't want to tell this story here and bring dark into this light filled place, but he needed Essek to understand. “I’ve lost people, I’ve lost parts of myself, I’ve lost time, Essek.”
 There was a pause as Essek looked at Caleb’s profile. “You know that time is one of my special-”
 “Specialties, yes. Sometimes I wonder if that is why I was at first so drawn to you. How you yourself seem to be made of possibilities stacked with impossibilities.”
 Caleb could see Essek’s surprised look out of the corner of his eye. He still didn’t turn. The water was too overcast with green to reflect much light, but he could  see the two of them rippling in mirrored visage. He turned to look at the discarded mantle instead.
 “Stay.”
 “Here?” Essek looked around the Grove. “I know many of you are staying for a well deserved rest, but I can’t. Caleb, you know I can’t. I have...responsibilities. To other people and to myself. I have to go back.”
 Caleb shook his head and twisted to his side to face Essek. “No, not here, but with me. Anywhere, Aeor, Rosohna, Nicodranas, anywhere. Just...stay.”
 Caleb had already seen Essek cry mere hours ago, but the heartbroken expression crossing his face seemed deeper. “Caleb... I had barely allowed myself the hope to believe that you and I… that we shared the same feelings.”
 Hearing the doubt in his voice Caleb reached for his hand. “We do.”
 Essek squeezed his eyes shut. “You make this so difficult, Widogast.” He let out a little laugh.
 Caleb smiled. “I had warned you, people complicate your life.”
 Essek sighed and opened his eyes again. “I have to go back, you know I have to. I cannot keep running away from my end, it will make it worse when it does come.”
 Caleb pulled Essek’s hands toward his chest, holding it warmly in place with both his own. “We won’t let that happen. An end. We’ve convinced the Bright Queen before, we can do it again.”
 “I do not doubt you.” Essek looks back towards the Clay home. “I have seen some impressive resilience and feats of friendship this week.”
 “Of love, Essek. Of love.”
 There was a quiet moment as Caleb breathed, Essek’s hand rising up and down with each breath. Another petal fell from a blooming tree and flickered across the water.
 “I don’t know if it will work.” Essek spoke again. “Lesser crimes end in death, and mine is a hundredfold worse.”
 “The Mighty Nein have met death many times. It never sticks.”
 Caleb’s grin was infectious and Essek’s smile came easily. “You all continue to astound me.” Another several heartbeats passed and Essek’s smile dimmed. “You don’t need to.”
 “But I want to.” Caleb didn’t know how much clearer he could be, but perhaps he needed to state it exactly. If not for Essek, then for himself to hear the truth of it outloud. Caleb raised Essek’s hand to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to the knuckles. “I don’t want to lose you, Essek. Now that time is finally on our side, I wish to spend mine with you.”
 “Oh.” Essek looked flustered, but happy. “Caleb?”
 “Ja?”
 “Can you lean forward a little?”
 Caled leaned in, heat prickling up his neck as he tilted his face towards Essek, looking deep into his eyes like they were the gem from not so long ago.
 With his free hand Essek tucked Caleb’s hair back behind his ear and gently pressed his lips to his forehead. “I believe this to be good luck. You gave it to me so many weeks ago, and now I shall pass it back. You may need it if you choose to stay and help me.”
 A smile burst across Caleb’s face. “Didn’t I ask you to stay?”
 Essek pressed another kiss to his brow, then along his cheekbone, and to the curve of his jaw. “It seems we are choosing each other, in the end.”
29 notes · View notes
mollygetssherlockcoffee · 5 years ago
Text
Cutie
Pairing: Spencer x Reader
Summary: While out with the Team, Spencer is made to feel unworthy because of his cane so Y/N tries to reassure him
Warning: Self-hate/doubt, discrimination, bit of fluff
Words: 1,518
A/N: I saw a post about S5 Spencer with his cane and I just had to write something!
Master List HERE     Permanent Tag List HERE 
Tumblr media
The music was loud, the beat travelling through the seat and vibrating through your bones. The lights flashed overhead, the spotlight swinging across the dance floor as a mass of people jump to the music.
You lean back in your seat, holding your drink to your chest as you take a sip. You laugh as you watch Derek and Penelope dance, Derek spinning her round before pulling her in close with a huge smile on his face. Your eyes trail over to the bar, checking on Emily but she seems to be fine, smiling and chatting with a pretty blonde. JJ and Will, who had got a babysitter to look after little Henry, sat huddled together with Will whispering in JJ’s ear as she bit her straw. You quickly looked away; you loved those two but honestly… you didn’t not want to know.
 Your eyes are drawn to Spencer, the sound of him sliding his glass of coke onto the table catching your attention. He looked thoroughly uncomfortable in the seat next to you, his eyes trailing over the club, his right hand playing with cane.
 Spencer hardly went out with the team, and this was the first time he had been out since he was shot. When out on ‘team nights’ you often stayed with Spencer. While you enjoyed going out for casual drinks, you did not enjoy the clubbing scene. While your friends danced and chatted up someone who fit their tastes, you and Spencer would sit in a booth, watch their drinks and talk about whatever nonsense came to mind.
 Tonight was different. Spencer seemed to be more uncomfortable than usual. On an ordinary night, he would be tense for the first hours before relaxing into conversation with you, his eyes flitting over to your friends to ensure they were okay. On this occasion, after being in the club for nearly two and a half hours, Spencer was not settled.
 “What’s wrong?” you ask him, leaning towards him so that he could hear you.
“I…I’m just going to go” he sighed, looking around awkwardly. “People are looking at me.”
You looked at his face for a moment and he flashed his eyes over to a small group. You followed his clue, eyes landing on a group of women who were looking at him. You looked back at Spencer, playful tracing your finger along his jaw, “Of course they’re looking at you, Spence, you’re a cutie.”
“It’s not actually me they’re looking at, Y/N, it’s the leg, the cane, that’s got their attention” he gives a small nod back to the group.
 You look back over at them and actually take notice this time. They were only a few tables down from you, so you could see their eyes, even in the low lighting. Your smile dropped. Two of the girls were still looking over at your table and you could see their eyes were focused on Spencer, their gaze taking in his walking cane. One of the other girls in the group is talking to the group, but her face is at an angle where you can just make out her lips.
 “As if he’s actually come here with a cane, what the fuck? What’s he getting at?”
 If you could make out the words, Spencer definitely could. He was a much better lip reader than you.
 You drop your glass onto the table and push your chair backwards. “Hey, JJ, Spence and I are gonna go. It’s getting late and he promised to take me for breakfast tomorrow.”
JJ paused mid giggle, turning away from Will. “Okay, Y/N, we’ll see you Monday?”
“Yeah,” you smile before turning to Spencer. “Come on, cutie, home time.”
 To leave the club, you have to pass the group of women. You stay close by Spencer’s side in a show of support, your hand gently resting on his back as you make your way outside. On your way past, your eyes meet those of the woman that spoke. You give her your best glare and it clearly works as she quickly looks away.
 Once outside, you led Spencer to your car. You only ever drank lemonade on nights out, ensuring that you sober enough to drive home. Normally, you drove most of the team home but Will was here tonight and he hadn’t been drinking, he could ferry people back.
 “You can stay at mine tonight, cutie, I can’t not be bothered to drive the extra ten minutes” you told him, reaching your car.
“Can you stop calling me that” Spencer sighed.
“What, cutie? Why?” you asked, turning to face him. “I thought you liked it when I used nicknames?”
“I do but not…not that one” he replied, shaking his head. “I’m not cute. I’m awkward and now, I’ve got a messed-up leg. I might not be able to walk without a cane ever again and what would that mean for my job? The FBI won’t want an agent who can’t even support their own weight. Did you know, disabled individuals have to apply for sixty per cent more jobs than non-disabled people before they get a job? Not to mention the fact, people obvious don’t like that I’m using a cane. I wasn’t the most attractive anyway but now? With this cane? I get comments like the one from that girl. And worse.”
 You stood there in silence for a moment, just staring at the man before you. Was that really what he thought? Oh god, please no. Your eyes focused on him, the way he looked back at you with such sadness, fear and pain, his chest heaving at his outburst. You took a step closer to him, your hand going to hold his arm gently.
“Spence, no, you can’t think that about yourself” you shook your head. “Yeah, you can be awkward but hey, so can everyone at times. Its actually really endearing. You got injured in the line of duty, when saving a mans life… that’s incredible. I mean, I’m not happy you got hurt, but you know…” you gave an awkward shrug. He gave a soft snort at your words, shaking his head but you could see the tiny smile. “And your job is being a profiler. You don’t have to go round literally chasing unsubs to be a profiler, I mean, the FBI already made an exception to let you in the field anyway. You’re almost as bad as me when it comes to foot chases and that’s saying something. Remember when I tripped over that rock while chasing Markowitz?”
 You both laughed for a moment, remember that day in Ohio. You’d been chasing the unsub when you’d tripped and fell straight over. Spencer had stopped to help you, checking out your grazes while Derek and JJ had continued in the pursuit of Markowitz.
 “Anyway,” you shook you head, smiling fondly at the memory. “You can still do your job without being in the field, and you’re proved that already. Plus, you’re the best profiler the FBI has ever seen. They’d be crazy to get rid of you, and you know what? I wouldn’t let them. We need you, the team needs you, the whole country does. And that statistic? That’s a statistic for discrimination. Their asses should be beat, and you know it. Also, I’m not going to stop calling you ‘cutie’. You’re cute, Spence, you’d have to be blind not to see it. Cane or no cane, long hair or short, glasses or no glasses, sharp suit or your little cardigans… you’re a complete cutie. Honestly, I don’t understand why you think you’re so unattractive because honey, I don’t see it. Honestly, you should look at yourself because da-”
 Your words are cut off as an arm wraps around your waist and your pulled into his chest. Your eyes widen as Spencer presses his lips against yours. Your frozen in shock, unable to move, to respond, as he kisses you.
 Had you dreamed of this before? Sure, but you never thought it would happen. Spencer Reid was a very attractive man. He was tall with curly brown hair and a one-hundred-watt smile. He was kind and generous, thoughtful and sweet. In all honesty, he was the pack deal.
 You’d harboured a crush on him for a while now. His laugh made your stomach flutter, his smile warmed your insides. You found yourself paying even more attention to his spirals of information, though you had always paid attention anyway. Your eyes were drawn to his hands – oh those mouth-watering hands!
 While you had a thing for him, you had no idea that he felt anything more than friendship towards you.
 Spencer pulled back, his hands dropping from your waist as his eyes widened. He seemed shocked by his own behaviour while simultaneously fearful of your reaction. “Oh my god, Y/N, I’m so sorry!”
“Shut up” you order, grasping him by the shirt and pulling his lips down to meet yours again.
 Yes, Spencer Reid with a cane was just as good as Spencer Reid without a cane. What were those women thinking?
396 notes · View notes
slashingdisneypasta · 4 years ago
Text
Horror / Six: The Musical AU (X Reader) || Headcanons
Tumblr media
Explanation: So all the songs are being sun by different readers with different Henry’s (The Horror Villains of course) instead of one Henry. I think its pretty straight forward apart from that! I hope to make a second part to this where the readers actually meet up and complain about their times with their respective horror villains. This is fun XD Had the idea a couple months back and I posted it and one blog commented saying Six is their favourite musical, so this is basically for me and them haha XD 
Character Included: Michael Myers, Chucky / Charles Lee Ray (And Tiffany Valentine), Bubba Sawyer, Norman Bates, Mayor Buckman (And Harper Alexandre) and Jason Voorhees. 
Warnings: Murder of the readers (By respective Horror Villains and a non-explicit difficult birth in Bubba’s), birth / pregnancy, toxic / abusive relationships, sexual harrassment / maybe rape (All You Wanna Do- Buckmans), language, suggested mother / son grossness (Norman and Norma of course). 
I laugh in the face of those who would subdue my mad ideas. 
‘No Way’ (Reader as Catherine of Aragon): Michael Myers as Henry
Tumblr media
My name's Catherine of Aragon Was married 24 years I'm a paragon of royalty, my loyalty is to the Vatican So if you try to dump me You won't try that again 
You were in a, of course, very unequal relationship with the shape of Haddonfield. He saw you one day, was completely taken by you, and decided to let you live. He would come by and use you however he liked, kill the people you loved when they got your attention over him, etc. Like any other Michael Myers x Reader.
And, years and years later (Because it’s not like Michael finds someone every day that he gives even a bit of a shit about like he does - did, - you) he comes upon a new person. Someone he, like he was you, is drawn to.
And he tries to drop you like a hot potato.
And this infuriates you. You are not about to let go! He has ruined your life! You have no friends, no family, no life, because of him! All you have, is (regrettably) him and you are going to be his for the rest of your life. That’s what he wanted, that’s what the bastard’s going to get.
(Many, many years with him has caused your courage against him to grow spectacularly. You can say nearly anything to him)
|- ‘You must agree that, baby, in all the time I been by your side
I've never lost control’
‘I've put up with your sh- like every single day’ -|
You give him one more chance- if he can tell you one thing that you have done to him to legitimately hurt him… then you’ll leave willingly.
But he has nothing. And he doesn’t care.
|- ‘You got me down on my knees
Please tell me what you think I've done wrong
Been humble, been loyal, I've tried to swallow my pride all along
If you can just explain a single thing
I've done to cause you pain, I'll go
No?’ -|
//
|- ‘You wanna replace me? Baby, there's
N-n-n-n-n-n-no way
You made me a wife, so I'll be queen 'til the end of my life’ -|
He ends up strangling you to death when you won’t shut up.
‘Don’t Lose Your Head’ (Reader as Anne Boleyn): Chucky / Charles Lee Ray as Henry (And Tiffany as Catherine of Aragon)
Tumblr media
I'm that Boleyn girl and I'm up next See I broke England from the church Yeah, I'm that sexy Why did I lose my head? Well, my sleeves may be green but my lipstick's red 
Chucky and his filthy ass catches sight of you. Young, French and vivacious and he’s got heart eyes on the spot. He wants you, but he also doesn’t really want to lose Tiffany.
So... yeah, you end up living with them both for a while and its very awkward and a very hostile situation.
|- ‘Here we go
(You sent him kisses)
I didn't know I would move in with his misses
(What?)
Get a life
(You're living with his wife?)
Like, what was I meant to do?’ -|
You don’t like it. No one likes this. Chucky! Make up your mind!
|- ‘Three in the bed and the little one said
If you wanna be wed, make up your mind
Her or me, chum
Don't wanna be some
Girl in a threesome
Are you blind?’ -|
Tiffany is of course Catherine, and the fandom (The people of Britain for the sake of this AU) loves her (As we all know), so when you come along and insult her because Chucky is now your man (Supposedly.) and of course you two aren’t getting along with each other in the first place because of him … you get a bad name.
|- ‘Ooh, why hasn't it hit her?
He doesn't want to bang you
Somebody hang you
(Wow Anne, way to make the country hate you)
Mate, what was I meant to do?’ -|
When eventually Chucky is able to grow the balls to boot Tiffany out (My heart hurts writing this, trust me), he pulls a ‘Once a cheater, always a cheater’ kind of shit and has no loyalty to you or respect for the sanctity of your relationship, and starts having one night stands here, there and everywhere. He tries vaguely to tell you you’re being silly and that’s not true- but he has lipstick on his shirt collars and perfume smell all over him.
Its not a nice living condition.
So you, still very much being the vivacious bitch that he ‘fell in love with’, go and flirt with some other guys. Just to make him a teensy bit jealous! I mean, its not like he’ll really care, right? You just wanna spark the fire again!
|- ‘Henry's out every night on the town
Just sleeping around, like what the hell?
If that's how it's gonna be
Maybe I'll flirt with a guy or three
Just to make him jell’ -|
But he finds out as planned… and is p i s s e d. He threatens that if you do that again, he’ll fucking kill you.
You, not going to let him talk to you like that, flirt with one more man. Just to be disobedient. 
|- ‘Henry finds out and he goes mental
He screams and shouts
Like so judgemental
You damn that witch
Mate, just shut up
I wouldn't be such a b-
If you could get it up’ -|
And you find out that he very much meant it when he said he would kill you.
|- ‘And now he's going 'round like off with her head (No)
(No)
Yeah, I'm pretty sure he means it’ -|
‘Heart of Stone’ (Reader as Jane Seymour): Bubba Sawyer as Henry
Tumblr media
Jane Seymour the only one he truly loved (Rude) When my son was newly born, I died But I'm not what I seem or am I? Stick around and you'll suddenly see more 
You were an intended victim of the Sawyers, but like with Stretch, Bubba crushes on you instead. The difference here, is that you see the gentleness to him compared to his brothers, and how scared he is when one of them yells at him, and all the other little signs that he’s not as vicious or evil as his first impressions might convey. You have a big, brave heart, and you realise right there that its death and cannibalisation or understanding and caring for this man and you choose to love.
|- ‘You came my way, and I knew a storm could come too.’-|
//
|- ‘You've got a good heart
But I know it changes
A restless tide, untameable’ -|
So you take his hands in yours, all shaky and meaty as they are, and promise him that you will never leave him. You’ll protect him. You’ll take any mess he and his family can throw at you- you’ll always be with him. Your promise.
|- ‘But I took your hand, promised I'd withstand
Any blaze you blew my way
'Cause something inside, it solidified
And I knew I'd always stay’ -|
And he believes you, of course. Its so nice to be looked at so softly, especially by someone as pretty as you.
I- ‘You can build me up, you can tear me down
You can try but I'm unbreakable
You can do your best, but I'll stand the test
You'll find that I'm unshakeable
When the fire's burnt
When the wind has blown
When the water's dried, you'll still find stone
My heart of stone’ -|
And you prove yourself. You prove over and over again that no matter what he, or the twins, or Drayton, or even Grandpa throws at you- you’ll survive and you’ll stay, and you’ll never stop looking at him in that lovely soft way.
|- ‘You say we're perfect
A perfect family’ -|
You get pregnant of course because everyone in the Sawyers / Hewitts family has a breeding kink and you can’t tell me otherwise, and the birth is of course very difficult because Drayton isn’t about to pay for hospital bills. So you’re in their home, in all the mess and the dirt and with no sort of aesthetic, and…
|- ‘Soon I'll have to go
I'll never see him grow’  -|
You don’t make it. Your babies born fine and healthy, and you bring another strong Sawyer boy to the family, but you’re gone.
‘Get Down’ (Reader as Anne of Cleves): Norman Bates as Henry
Tumblr media
Ich bin Anne of Cleves Ja! When he saw my portrait, he was like Ja! But I didn't look as good as good as I did in my pic Funny how we all discuss that but never Henry's little- 
So, one day, Norman decides its time to properly settle down (Long after his mother… ah… ‘dies’) and get a partner, and because there isn’t really anyone around where he lives to date or, even, who wouldn’t get creeped out by him and his taxidermy, he turns to online dating.
He meets you there. You own and run your own hotel in the next state over, you don’t mind his taxidermy at all, and your profile picture looks… hauntingly familiar (If you look nothing like Vera Farmiga go by the original movie- she was but a skeleton there so she really could be anyone).
|- ‘Sittin' here all alone
On a throne
In a palace that I happen to own
I'm not fake 'cause I've got acres and acres
Paid for with my own riches’ -|
And you two get along great over messages! You online date for a good year before Norman proposes you elope and come to live with him! You think you’ve known him long enough, and you trust him!
So you fly right over, and he meets you at the airport, and…
He’s disappointed.
Like, ‘sorry, nah, you don’t look enough like mama so this isn’t gonna work’. In a more fidgety, quiet, subdued kind of way though. He’s so awkward with communication that he even suggests that you doctored your profile picture.
I- ‘You, you said that I tricked ya
'Cause I, I didn't look like my profile picture’ -|
And, understandably, you’re p i s s e d, and disgusted! But ya’ll already got married over the internet, so theirs no stopping that! This is your husband. You realise you’ve made a huge mistake and go right back to your home and your hotel to get divorce papers drawn up.  
You’re the queen of your own fucking castle, who needs him?
|- ‘I'm the queen of the castle
Get down, you dirty rascal
'Cause I'm the queen of the castle’ -|
You are understandably, very very mad. And you say some things to Norman about he and his mother, that… may be true… but that he certainly doesn’t appreciate.
When you finally get the papers, and you’ve been separated long enough for it to be legal, you go back to the Bates Motel to get Norman to sign them and stay over a night. You’ve calmed down enough that you’re able to have a pleasant conversation with him, and you decide that you’re too tired to take the plane back home right away so you take up Normans offer to stay in one of vacant rooms (*Cough* So you basically have the run of the place. Or they do. *Cough).
Norman is also pretty calm about the whole thing as well, like you! But… Norma, is still seething.
You don’t wake up the next morning.  
‘All You Wanna Do’ (Reader as Kathrine Howard): Mayor Buckman as Henry (And Harper as Thomas)
Tumblr media
Prick up your ears, I'm the Catherine who lost her head (Beheaded) For my promiscuity outside of wed Lock up your husbands Lock up your sons K. Howard is here and the fun's begun 
Right, so, you haven’t had good luck in love throughout your life, so you decide to give up on boys entirely. 
|- ‘So I decided to have a break from boys
And you'll never guess who I met’ -|
… And meet a man, not much later. A man in power; A mayor. A man who’s been married before and has a beard (So you know; He’s a man. XD No little boy.). This is of course Buckman. He calls you love, and you get a job in Pleasant Valley that keeps you comfortably busy. You feel like, finally, you’re where you belong. You feel fulfilled- no committed relationships are necessary.
|- ‘Globally revered
Although you wouldn't know it from the look of that beard
Made me a lady in waiting
Hurled me and my family up in the world
Gave me duties in court and he swears it's true
That without me, he doesn't know what he'd do
He cares so much, he calls me love’ -|
But then Buckman tells you that he cares about you. You have a connection. He doesn’t feel just ‘friendly’ feelings towards you- he wants more. And, though you are a little disappointed that your solitude didn’t last, you decide that he’s decent enough (’He is rather kind to me, and he does makes me smile a fair bit’, you try to reason with yourself that this is a good idea) and so you start to go out. Its not long before you’re married.
|- ‘So we got married Woo…’
Woo…’ -|
But being married to him isn’t easy. Not at all. You’re not use to politics; There are so many rules now, and he’s always too busy to help. And the rest for Pleasant Valley are a bit… odd. And you just don’t fit in. And this is wear Harper (Thomas) comes in.
|- ‘With Henry, it isn't easy
His temper's short, and his mates are sleazy
Except for this one courtier
He's a really nice guy, just so sincere
The royal life isn't what I planned
But Thomas is there to lend a helping hand
So sweet, makes sure that I'm okay
And we hang out loads when the King's away’ -|
And he’s so lovely and caring towards you (Never more then when Buckman leaves for business in other towns), helping you through the transition from your old life to this one. He’s a good friend, to you. And that is most definitely all he is, on your side of it. A friend. You don’t feel attractions towards him at all apart from that, and he doesn’t try to make any moves. Its wonderful!
|- ‘This guy, finally
Is what I want, the friend I need
Just mates, no chemistry
I get him and he gets me’ -|
… Until one day when Buckman has been away for a month, he tells you he cares about you. You have a connection. He doesn’t feel just ‘friendly’ feelings towards you- he wants more.
|- ‘He says we have a connection
I thought this time was different
Why did I think he'd be different?
But it's never, ever different’ -|
Lets just say one things leads to another, despite you at first turning him away and saying no. He’s so insistent, and a little scary, and you’re lonely because your husbands’ has been away so long, and… something happens that you regret and feel gross about.
|- ‘Squeeze me, don't care if you don't please me
Bite my lip and pull my hair
As you tell me, I'm the fairest of the fair
Playtime's over.’ -|
You tell Buckman when he gets home, and you watch as every bit of warmth and love in his eye disappears, just like that.
Its not long after that that his jealousy and betrayed rage takes over… and… you die with a rope around your neck and your feet swaying above the ground.
|- ‘Playtime’s over’ -|
(Alternatively, Sheriff Hoyt as Henry and Thomas as Thomas)
‘I Don’t Need Your Love’ (Reader as Catherine Parr): Jason Voorhees as Henry (Your last love was Jason when he was alive)
Tumblr media
Five down, I'm the final wife I saw him to the end of his life I'm the survivor Catherine Parr I bet you wanna know how I got this far I said I bet you wanna know how we got this far Do you wanna know how we got this far then? 
So, you’re like the leader of the ‘Slashers Ex Squad’ because you, unlike the others, survived your time with Jason. This is because Jason did, truly, love you (To an extent- not enough to let you go and live your life without him or be free). None of the others really did. Not like he did.
|- ‘Became the one who survived’ -|
Your story:
You and Jason had an adorable little 11-year-old puppy love relationship when he was alive. You were his only friend, and he had it bad for you because of it. Pamela loved you, too.
When he died you were of course devastated, and years later when you were 30 (Making him also thirty- not that you know that. You still think he’s dead at this point) you’re taken by the need to go back to Camp Crystal Lake and pay your respects to your childhood love / friend. Its just one of those nostalgic days.
When you go, and you set flowers down by the lake, Jason catches sight of you. He thinks about killing you… but then your features start to make sense to him. He recognises you, and for the first time since his mother was killed, he feels his heartbeat speed up and swell with hope.
Jason of course kidnaps you then, and keeps you hostage for himself. He missed you. He doesn’t want to survive anymore time without you. You’re all he has left!
… After you realise that this is Jason Voorhees, you quickly learn that this Jason is, of course, not the boy that you cared, and care, so deeply about. He’s done horrible things, and he is never going to stop; And frankly, deep inside… he scares you.
But its not like you can leave him! He would never let you, he’s made that clear. You are all he has, and now, he is all that you have.
|- ‘I don't have a choice
If Henry says "it's you", then it's you
No matter how I feel
It's what I have to do’ -|
So you write a letter to the old Jason (And your old life), saying goodbye, in admittance to the fact that you’ll never be able to get away from this new Jason. This is you letting go of your freedom and any preconceptions that anything will every be the same- with Jason, or otherwise.
|- ‘It's true I'll never be over you 'Cause I have built a future in my mind with you And now the hope is gone There's nothing left for me to do’
'Cause I have built a future in my mind with you
And now the hope is gone
There's nothing left for me to do’ -|
You never stop hating him for how he’s changed (How he’s taken your Jason away, and wont even attempt to go back) and how he’s stolen away your freedom.
|- ‘I'd say "Henry, yeah it's true
I'll never belong to you
'Cause I am not your toy, to enjoy till there's something new
As if I'm gonna give up my boy, my work, my dreams
To care for you"
"Ha, darling, get a clue”
But I can't say that
Not to the king’ -|
You eventually die of natural causes at, like, 60.
130 notes · View notes
nikki-writes-stuff · 5 years ago
Text
Beauty in the Blood - Part One
Summary: One day your friend convinces you to join a dating website that matches people based on their search histories, and when you match with Loki Odinson, a handsome, intelligent coroner who’s a fan of your murder mysteries, you’re absolutely thrilled. But there’s something off about Loki, and as your relationship progresses, you discover that his dark side is even darker than you could ever have imagined... 
Pairing: Serial Killer!Loki x Writer!Reader 
A/N: This story is based off of this post! I hope you guys enjoy; this is my first time writing Loki, and this will probably be the darkest thing I’ve ever written. Please let me know what you think as the story progresses! 
Tumblr media
Warning: This chapter contains hints of smut and GRAPHIC descriptions of death and murder. Later on, this fic will also include rape/non con, dub con, kidnapping, yandere/obsessive elements, and even MORE graphic descriptions of death and murder. Please read at your own risk, and as usual, this is only for the eyes of those 18 and older. Thank you, and enjoy!
It was hard to find a decent guy these days. New York was the city of dreamers, artists, and absolute weirdos, and out of the three, you only seemed to attract the latter. You’d been to speed dating events and Singles Night at your local bar, but there was never a connection, never a spark, and every guy seemed to have something fundamentally wrong with him. It wasn’t that you were looking for the perfect guy, it was just that you’d met too many who were demanding, controlling, or misogynistic.  
You’d given up on finding your special someone a year after you’d moved to the city. After all, being single wasn’t too bad. You could do what you want whenever you wanted without having to think about someone else. So what if you didn’t have anyone to kiss on New Years? So what if you cried a little every now and then from feeling so alone? It was fine. It was absolutely fine, you told yourself. Fine, fine, fine…
“I’m absolutely fine, Wanda. I don’t need a boyfriend to be happy.”
You were sat across from your good friend, who was stirring her coffee with one hand while she tapped her fingers against the table with the other. She arched a skeptical eyebrow at you before taking a sip of her drink.
“You’re right; you don’t. But you’re lonely,” she pointed out. “A boyfriend would help with that.”
There was no denying that she was right. Wanda was perceptive, and she was also one of your closest friends. You’d met her during your first week of living in New York, and she’d helped you adjust to living in such a busy, fast-paced place. She probably knew you better than you knew yourself, and that was why you slumped in defeat and threw back the last gulp left of your mimosa.
“God, you’re right,” you bemoaned. “I hate it when you’re right.”
“I know,” she grinned. “But don’t worry; I can help.”
“Wanda, not that I don’t appreciate your effort, but the last guy you sent me out on a date with got mad that I didn’t put out after he paid for my dinner. I don’t want to go on any more blind dates.”
She winced, reaching over to pat the back of your hand.
“I had no idea Kyle was like that,” she promised you. “If I’d known he would be such an asshole you know I wouldn’t have set you up. But I wasn’t going to suggest another blind date.”
You tilted your head to the side.
“What did you have in mind, then?”
She grinned and reached into her purse, fishing around until she found her phone.
“I heard of a new dating app that made me immediately think of you,” she explained excitedly, pulling up the website and passing her device over to you. “It matches you with people in your area based on your Google searches!”
“Pfffft.” You scoffed, taking a quick glance at the screen before looking back to your friend. “That’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard of.”
“I know, I know, it’s a strange concept. But it has one of the highest success ratings out of all the dating websites! It’s only been around for six months, but over half of its users say that they’ve found someone they can see themselves spending the rest of their lives with!”
“Statistics can be made up, you know,” you groused. “Besides, one look at my browser history would send anyone running in the opposite direction.”
“Maybe not someone who has one similar to yours,” she pointed out. “C’mon, what’s the worst that could happen?”
“Wanda, you know what I do for a living, right? I could match with some kind of serial killer!”
Your friend just waved you off and ordered another coffee, picking up her phone again and stuffing it into her pocket.
“Just try it? Please?” she begged. “Just give it a shot, and if it doesn’t work out, then that’s that, right? No harm done.”
Several hours later, and you found yourself sitting on your couch, staring at the same website homepage that Wanda had shown you. You bit your lip, letting your fingers skim over your laptop’s keys, not typing anything just yet but feeling their ridges as you considered the “Join Now” button.
There wouldn’t be any harm in it, right? Just like Wanda said, if you hated the kind of people you matched with, then you could always delete your profile. And you didn’t only search things for your research, after all; you also googled recipes and cute animal videos. What if you matched with a gorgeous guy who’d also googled “Try Not To Laugh – Kitten Edition”? Hell yeah.
After taking a deep breath to steel yourself, you clicked on the button, making quick work of filling out the ‘About You’ information. Five minutes later, you’d chosen a profile picture and linked your Google account to the website, and you were ready to sift through your matches. The wheel on the screen turned slowly as your computer processed the information, and you actually jolted when it dinged with the results.
Well. Result. There was only one person who’d shown up with a similar search history as you. You let out a breath you hadn’t known you were holding, and you almost closed your laptop and went to retreat a pint of Ben and Jerry’s from your fridge, calling it a day and forgetting the whole debacle. But then you saw his profile picture and… Holy shit.
He was lean and pale, and your eyes were immediately drawn to his long, black hair. He had it slicked back in the photo with just one strand hanging down over his left eye. In the photo, he was wearing an exquisitely tailored black suit with a black shirt and tie underneath it, and you couldn’t help but let your eyes trail along the lithe contours of his body. He looked as if he were carved from marble; you almost started drooling just from the sight of him.
You jumped again when your computer dinged for a second time, and your eyes widened when you saw that you had a new message in your inbox. With fingers that were just barely trembling, you opened it, skimming over the message from the man you’d paired with.
Good evening. I must admit, I was quite surprised when I got the notification that we’d matched with one another. I’ve had this profile for about four months, and I’d had yet to be paired with anyone.
So he was handsome and eloquent. You clicked on his profile and blinked when you saw his name. Loki Odinson. Wow. Even his name was refined, if not a little strange; it sounded like a name you’d give to one of the characters in your books.
Hello, Loki, you typed out. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I was pretty surprised to find someone else who has such a twisted search history. I don’t know if I should be happy or concerned.
It only took him a few moments to reply.
The feeling is mutual; I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation for the morbidity, though. Mine is that I happen to be a coroner for a living. And yours is…?
I’m a writer, you explained, your interest piqued by his profession. I write murder mysteries. So, yeah… Morbidity seems like a fitting way to describe it.
A writer, you say. I happen to be quite an avid reader; would I know any of your work?
I’m not sure; have you ever heard of The Bell Ringer? That’s probably my most well-known book.
You’re kidding.
He sent you a picture, and it was of a pale hand holding a copy of The Bell Ringer, your name glistening in bold font beneath the title.
I’m a great fan of your work, as you can see. I own several of your novels.
Another photo loaded beneath the newest text, and it was of a shelf full of your books. The Shrew Woman, A Night in New Hampshire, The Hanging Woman – nine books in total. The only one that you’d written that wasn’t there was the one you’d just sent out to your publisher, and you suspected that once it was out in stores, it would be joining the ranks of Loki’s shelf.
Wow! It’s always so nice to meet a reader. I’m so glad you like my stuff!
Oh, love, you’re a huge talent. I must say, I’ve found your work rather inspiring.
That’s so kind of you to say!
I know that this is rather forward, but are you doing anything tonight?
You glanced up at the clock you had hanging on the wall – 8:13 pm. It was already pretty late; typically you’d be putting on your pajamas and curling up in bed to do some late night reading here soon. But something inside of you whispered that you should do it; you weren’t spontaneous enough. What if this was an opportunity to meet the One? At the very least, it would be cool to meet such a loyal reader.
It depends on if this guy I’m talking to online asks me out. Do you think he will?
He would have to be a fool not to. I suspect he’ll ask you if you’d like to meet at a café.
Well, then, I suspect I’ll have to say yes.
An excited grin was plastered over your lips as you bantered back and forth, and when Loki sent you an address and a message saying ‘I’ll see you there in twenty minutes’, you jumped off of your sofa and rushed to put on your shoes. You were still dressed in the leggings and oversized sweater you’d worn to brunch with Wanda, and all you had to do was straighten your hair and pull on your boots before you were out the door. The address he’d sent you was within walking distance of your apartment; in fact, you’d been there before, but never on a date.
Your heart was pounding the entire way over, and you couldn’t get over how unlike you this was. You didn’t just get up and meet guys you’d met on the internet on such short notice, much less so late at night. And yet here you were, stepping into the café fifteen minutes after receiving Loki’s message. Your eyes scanned the room, but it appeared that he wasn’t there yet. As you got in line to order, you tried to calm yourself, not wanting to look too frazzled when your date finally showed up. You tried to even your breathing, twisting the fabric of your sleeves between your nervous fingers.
He’s just a person, you told yourself. You’ve been on dates before; everything was going to be fine. Nothing bad was going to-
“Hello, there.”
You gasped and turned around, eliciting a chuckle from the man now towering over you. He was dressed in a set of black trousers with a simple white button-down tucked into them, and his hair was loose and falling around his shoulders. His grin was wide and full of teeth, with just the slightest sinister edge to it. But his eyes were warm and twinkling with excitement and just a hint of mischief. Those clear blue irises brought a smile to your own lips, and you chuckled along with him at your initial fright.
“Sorry, I didn’t hear you walk in,” you explained.
“It’s quite alright,” he assured you, offering his hand. “I know you already are aware, but I’m Loki.”
You grinned and introduced yourself, going to shake his hand, but he smoothly cradled your fingers and drew them up to his lips, pressing a light kiss to your knuckles.
“It’s good to finally meet you in person,” he cooed, seemingly all too aware of how flustered you now were.
You opened your mouth to say something in return, but you couldn’t think of anything to say as silence lay heavily between the two of you. You were saved, though, when the barista called out to you, asking if she could take your order. You spun around on your heel and shot her a grateful glance before ordering your favorite menu item and reaching into your purse for your wallet.
“…And I’ll have a cup of Earl Grey,” Loki stepped in, handing her a card from his open wallet.
“Oh, I could have paid for mine,” you protested, but he waved you off.
“No, no, love. It’s my treat.”
He gave you a tight, close-lipped smile, and you didn’t protest further as he paid for your orders. He led you to a booth in the corner, sliding into the side opposite to yours gracefully. The leather squeaked against your thighs as you shuffled in, and when you were finally settled across from him you caught a flicker in his eye that sent chills up your spine.
It was gone in an instant, though, replaced by the same suave look he’d had while ordering his tea.
“So,” he began, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. “As I said before, I’m a fan of your work. Truly, I have been since your very first novel.”
“’Beauty in the Blood’?” you asked incredulously. “I’m surprised; no one seems to like that one. After reading it, my mom suggested that I start going to therapy.”
Loki chuckled, licking his lips, and your eyes followed his tongue of their own accord.
“Ah, well, whether or not that’s true, it’s still my favorite of your works by far,” he continued. “The parts told by the killer’s perspective were…beautiful. You captured his mind so artfully, it was as if…”
He paused, searching your face for a moment.
“It was as if…you understood him,” he finished.
You furrowed your eyebrows, thinking over his words. He’d skipped right over the small talk you’d come to suspect on first dates, but despite how strange of a direction the conversation was taking, you were…intrigued by it.
“Well,” you started, “I feel like I did understand him.  I mean, sure, he took delight in the killing of others; he saw it as an art form. But as twisted and evil as he was, he was still a person – a person that had come from my mind. Cuz the thing is…”
You paused, gathering your thoughts and trying to find the right words to convey them.
“The thing is,” you spoke carefully, “that every storyteller uses bits and pieces of themselves to tell a story. A story is like a stained glass window – it’s made up of different pieces of an author’s mind and soul, and it comes together to create something greater than the sum of those pieces. So, yes, I think I can understand him; his darkness might be a reflection of my own – deep, deep down.”
You glanced up at him, blinking when you saw the transfixed look upon his face. His eyes were wider than they had been before, and his lips were parted as he listened.
“Sorry,” you chuckled, shaking your head. “I, uh… I got a little carried away. You probably think I’m some kind of freak-“
“I think you’re beautiful.”
His words took your breath away, and when the barista set down your cups on the table, you jumped in surprise.
“Is there anything else I can get you guys?” she asked cheerfully, and a flash of annoyance crossed over Loki’s face at the interruption.
“We’re fine,” you assured her quickly, giving her a polite smile. “Thank you.”
“You’re so welcome!”
You gripped your mug tightly as she walked away, savoring its heat as it warmed up your cold hands.
“So,” you said, desperate to break the sudden silence that had fallen over the table, “you mentioned that you’re a coroner. What drew you to your profession?”
Loki sipped his tea, humming as he thought over the question.
“Well… The conversation has already veered towards the darker side of things,” he mused. “I might as well tell you the story.
“When I was twelve years old, my sister killed herself,” he began.
“Oh, Loki, I’m so sorry-“
“Oh, no, don’t be,” he interrupted. “We weren’t close at all. I was adopted at a young age, you see, and Hella never accepted me. She was cruel, and she took every opportunity she could to remind me of my inadequacies.
“But, as I said, one day she died. At first, we didn’t know how it happened; there were no marks on her body whatsoever. She just looked like she was sleeping as she lay there in bed. We called the hospital, and the police, and eventually the coroners discovered that she’d injected bleach into her arm. Later on, my mother found the syringe under her bed, and all the pieces of the puzzle fit together. We finally knew the how and the when, and I never really cared much about the why.
“…That probably makes me sound like a monster, doesn’t it?”
You sat back, swallowing a scalding-hot sip of your drink before answering.
“No,” you answered, shaking your head. “I don’t think that makes you a monster. She abused you; it’s only natural that you found some relief in her death. I would’ve probably felt the same way.”
He studied you for a moment, tracing the lip of his cup with his index finger.
“I wonder if you would have…” he murmured to himself, so quietly that you almost didn’t hear it.
“Well,” he sighed, plastering a smile on once more and straightening up, “you probably aren’t going to be very keen on a second date if I keep dragging our conversation into subjects like this. Tell me, where are you from? What made you move to the city?”
“How do you know I’m not from here?”
“Love, neither of us have the New York accent, now do we?”
You laughed, and after that the two of you fell into an easy flow; it seemed that the heavy beginning of the date made it all the easier to talk to him. You discussed what you liked about the city and what you didn’t like; you learned that Loki was originally from a small town right outside of London, and that he has an adopted brother named Thor that he was close to.
“He’s an oaf,” he’d said when you’d asked what his brother was like. “Everything about him is literally the opposite of its coinciding part of me. But…he loves me; he never thought of me as the adopted child. I was always just his brother; despite his shortcomings, I think he does mean well. Besides, his IQ level is in the single digits, so I’m afraid I must look out for him for fear of what would happen if he were left to his own devices.”
From there, you shared stories about growing up, about life and ex partners and mistakes and successes. Before you knew it, the happy barista from before was approaching your table again, this time with a nervous smile.
“Hey, guys,” she greeted. “I’m so so sorry to bother you, but we’re closing up…”
Loki glanced down at his watch as you glanced at your phone – 10:30.
“Shit,” you laughed. “I had no idea. Time flies…”
Your date shot a glare at the barista before his eyes flickered to you. He gave you a wide, close-lipped smile and straightened his collar, raising his eyebrows.
“Then I suppose it’s time for us to head out,” he murmured. “May I escort you home?”
“Oh! Of course. If it’s not too far out of your way…”
“Even if it is,” he smiled, “I still want to walk you home.”
Your heart fluttered, and you set a five dollar bill on the table as a tip before standing up. The barista scurried away, and you almost turned to apologize to her for Loki’s cold shoulder. But you didn’t know him well yet; maybe that’s just how he was. Maybe he didn’t mean anything by it.
“You guys have a good night!” she called out after you, and you smiled over your shoulder at her before reaching for the door. Loki’s hand darted out and grabbed the handle before you could, opening it for you with a slight bow.
“After you, my lady.”
“How chivalrous.”
The two of you walked side by side down the street, hands brushing as you strolled down the sidewalk. You glanced upwards, smiling at the scattering of stars overhead as your breath fogged in the chilly air. You shivered, rubbing your arms a little bit to ward off the chill. Loki evidently caught the movement, and you felt his arm drape around your shoulders. You leaned into the warmth of his body, tilting your head up to share a grin with him.
“Again – chivalrous.”
He chuckled, squeezing you for a beat.
“I try my best… It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it?”
“Gorgeous. Not as gorgeous as you, but…very pretty.”
You laughed and hid your face in his neck.
“Stop… You’re too charming.”
“Oh, really? I was under the impression there was no such thing.”
The two of you fell back into a companionable silence as you guided him towards your brownstone, until he spoke up once again.
“I must say… There’s a question that I’ve been meaning to ask you that I’m just…dying to know the answer to.”
“Go ahead, Loki. I’m an open book.”
He laughed softly again, hesitating before voicing his question.
“If you were to kill someone, how would you do it?”
You paused, thinking over your response.
“Well… Why am I killing them? Is it a crime of passion or a crime of necessity? Am I killing them just for the enjoyment of it, or out of revenge, or because the person needs to die for a bigger cause?”
“That… That is actually an excellent follow-up question,” Loki mused. “Let’s say… A crime of necessity. The person needs to die for a personal reason with no anger or revenge in mind. How do you do it?”
You bit your lip, calling to mind all of your morbid Google searches that might apply.
“Um… Air shot between the toes,” you finally said. “Fill a syringe with air and inject it between their toes while they sleep. It’ll look like a heart attack that way.”
Unbeknownst to you, warmth suddenly bloomed in Loki’s chest, and you glanced up just in time to catch the fond, almost…loving gleam in his eye. He quickly looked away, tilting his head up to look at the stars, but you’d caught it. And it wasn’t that it unsettled you; you weren’t uncomfortable because of the look. You were uncomfortable because you hadn’t been upset by it. You’d felt that same flutter once again as butterflies batted around your rib cage.
Nothing more was said as you turned the corner that led to your street, and you silently ascended your home’s steps with Loki’s arm still around your shoulders. You reluctantly slid your key into the lock, only turning to him once your door was opened a crack.
“I had… A really good time with you, Loki,” you told him, craning your neck to look into his eyes. “I know that this isn’t what you’re supposed to say to a guy after a first date; I know that it might scare you away. But I want you to know that I haven’t felt this way in a long… Actually, I’ve never felt this way. And it’s really scary, but I hope… I hope we can do this again sometime soon.”
Loki’s eyes softened, and he moved his arm from around your shoulders to your cheek.
“I haven’t felt his way, either,” he murmured. “But I know that I don’t want the feeling to go away.”
He was leaning forward, his eyes closing, and your heart leapt into your throat as you met him halfway. His lips were cold, and smooth, and soft as they pressed against yours, and you leaned into his touch when he pulled you closer by your hips. A sound escaped your throat as his tongue darted out, licking past the barrier of your mouth to glide itself against yours. His hands came up to cradle your cheeks, his thumbs rubbing against your cheekbones as your lips moved against one another, and you hummed once again as your chests pressed together.
You don’t know who pulled away first, but you spent a moment just taking in one another’s essence, your foreheads pressed together as the fog of your breaths mingled. You heard Loki let out a chuckle, and you looked up curiously.
“What is it?”
“I’ve just…” He licked his lips and let out another soft laugh before pulling away.
“I’ve just never felt like this before,” he repeated.
You smiled and pressed a peck to his lips before walking towards your door again.
“Have a good night, love,” he called after you, and you paused in the doorway to blow him a kiss.
“You too, Loki.”
You shut your door, missing the way his gaze darkened as he stared at the façade of your building.
“Oh, I will, darling. I will.”
__________
Loki hummed to himself, the leather of his gloves squeaking as he clenched and unclenched his fists. The silver of the table gleamed under the fluorescent lights of his basement, and the air was musty, thick with the smell of iron…and decay. Instruments and tools were lined along the wall in front of him - knives, machetes, a hatchet… It was cliché; he knew that. But he just hadn’t been able to resist the temptation while designing this special room.
A muffled scream sounded from behind him, and he rolled his eyes before turning back to the perky little barista who was currently strapped down to another metal table he’d “borrowed” from the hospital morgue.
“Are you honestly still trying to scream for help?” he snarked, raising an eyebrow at her. “I’ve told you; you’re currently under about five feet of solid concrete. Who will hear you? Who will help you?”
The girl let out a sob, and he watched her big blue eyes flicker to the wall just over his shoulder before coming to rest on him again. They were red and swollen, and he let out a coo of false sympathy.
“Oh, don’t worry, little girl. None of these are for you.” He grinned, turning back to the table behind him. “You can thank my new lover for that. No, she inspired me to take a different direction this evening.”
A small, genuine smile came over his face as he picked up the large syringe, turning it over in his hands.
“She’s been inspiring me for a while, actually,” he mused, ignoring the screams as he sauntered over to his victim, syringe in hand. “She’s such a brilliant writer, my darling is. It truly was fate that brought us together; if I’d had known that my favorite author was a beautiful young woman who also lived in Manhattan, well… I’m sure I would have found her sooner. But I won’t dwell on lost time; I’ll just have to make up for it.”
He ran a hand over the girl’s knee, trailing it down her shin even as she struggled against the strong ropes twined around her wrists and ankles. As his hand gripped the arch of her foot in an iron-like hold, he let his eyes close. This was always his favorite part – the moments right before death. The anticipation was like foreplay; it got him just as hot and eager, and the payoff was very nearly comparable. If he were ever asked to describe the feeling of ending another person’s life, of ripping out the remaining chapters from their story before it could be written, the only thing he’d be able to compare it to was an orgasm. That white-hot pleasure that flooded his veins was addictive, as was the lead up he was experiencing right now.
“You know,” he mused, slowly drawing back the plunger of the syringe, “my girl is so smart… Not a lot of people would think to off someone like this. But it’s not as easy as you would think; you can’t just use any old syringe. It has to be big, has to be a lot of air. And you have to be careful; if you hit muscle, it won’t be fatal, and the whole endeavor would be for naught. But if you hit a vein, and if you get a big enough pocket of air…”
The duct tape on her mouth did little to quell her scream as he inserted the needle into her flesh. A novice might not be able to find a vein, especially not in a foot, but the years of medical school paid off, just as they did every day at his job. He injected the empty cartridge into her vein, groaning and letting his eyes drift shut. He was slow about removing the needle; the separation of steel from skin was slow, intimate… Gentle.
“Hush…” he whispered, drawing out the word with a hiss. “It’s done now, love. It’s done.”
He let his arm fall to the side, and he took a step back, watching the girl start to settle down as he put some distance between them. He gently set the syringe down onto the table before crossing the room to the armchair in the corner. Letting out a soft grunt, he lowered himself into the seat, crossing his legs and letting his head fall back.
“Fuck, what a day,” he sighed. “This isn’t what I was expecting when I woke up this morning.”
Loki lifted his head and gave the young girl a wry smile.
“As you may have guessed, this isn’t my first time doing something like this,” he began. “But I do try to limit myself. I may take…five victims a year. Maybe six or seven if I’m particularly stressed. My last one was on New Year’s, though. I’m not due for a killing for another few months, but… That girl really had me going.
“I was hoping that she’d invite me in tonight,” he confessed. “Though I wasn’t expecting it. It was our first date, after all. But a man can hope, can’t he? If she had invited me to stay the night, you wouldn’t be here right now. Alas, though… I had all of these pent up feelings that I had to do something with. And you were so…obnoxious back at the café. I couldn’t tell if you were being genuine with your disgusting, overbearing cheerfulness or if it was as fake as your blonde hair. But, god, did it get under my skin…”
The girl let out a sob, and he noticed that she was beginning to shake. He chuckled, feeling himself grow hard in his trousers as he thought of you. You’d come up with this idea, this beautiful, drawn-out murder. Such a sweet, innocent looking girl on the outside. But such delicious, pure wickedness within.
“Fuck,” he huffed, palming himself through his pants. “Despite the nuisance you made of yourself, today was so perfect… She’s the One, you know. The one and only girl who can ever complete me. I didn’t even believe in this sort of thing this morning, but for the first time in my life, I’m glad I was wrong.”
He forced himself to still his hand, moving it to his knee as his jaw clenched. In the past, he’d done this in front of a few of his victims; male or female, if they were pretty, young things, the act of killing them made him so hard that he had to touch himself as he watched them squirm on his table. But not tonight, not after you. That part of himself was only for you, now, and he was strong enough to resist the urge until his was the only heart beating under his roof.
And so he sat back and watched. At first, the girl only shivered, and after thirty minutes he was afraid that he hadn’t injected enough air into her. But then he noticed the way she was breathing; it was like she was a fish out of water, and the slope of her furrowed eyebrows betrayed the pain she was in.
“Does it hurt?” he asked, voice thick. At first she didn’t answer, but then, almost imperceptibly, she nodded. He hummed in understanding, hiding his grin behind his hand as he scratched his chin.
“How marvelous.”
He knew she wouldn’t last long when her skin started to turn blue. After an hour, the seizures began, jolting and shaking her body as if she were a ragdoll. He watched in fascination, his cold, blue eyes never leaving her tied-up form. Soft, strained whimpers were leaving her throat, and he let out a purr as her eyes rolled to the back of her head.
His joints popped as he stood up, and the heels of his shoes clicked against the concrete floor as he rounded the table, making his way to her pretty blonde head. He slowly, deliberately pulled the duct tape away from her mouth, and he chuckled at how blue her lips had become.
“This is a much better look on you,” he observed. “This is so much more real than those saccharine smiles.”  
She finally went still 84 minutes after the injection. Even after her heart stopped beating, he stood over her, watching the unnatural stillness of her chest. Despite all of the corpses he’d created over the years, and despite the years he’d spent in his profession, it was still something that he’d never gotten used to. People weren’t supposed to be that still; people were supposed to blink, and smile, and talk, and breathe, but the things they became after death did none of those things. They didn’t move, and they didn’t feel, and there was always a moment of disgust when he first laid eyes on a fresh corpse.
But it passed quickly, even quicker than normal tonight. The disgust faded away and left behind pure, unadulterated lust as his thoughts strayed once more to you. Typically, he would stay behind, lingering in the basement to dispose of the body. Sometimes, if he wasn’t too tired, he would actually drive out and deposit them in whatever spot he’d predetermined to be the one the police were to find them in.
But tonight, he left the corpse there on the table. He flicked the lights off and climbed the first, then the second set of stairs, peeling off his gloves and petting his cat on the way to his bedroom. He showered, then combed his hair, then settled down between his silk sheets completely naked. Then, and only then, did his hand travel down to his cock, and his mind once again, indubitably, trekked back to you. Your face, your voice, your beautiful fucking mind…
The thought that finally made him cum was the picture of him fucking you in a pool of blood on his basement floor, of the bright crimson painting your skin as he let his hands worship your body. The thought followed him into his dreams, ruby red and throbbing to the beat of his heart as he slept deeply into the night.
_____________
Detective Romanoff stood side by side with her partner in front of the dead body, hands planted firmly on her hips as she chewed her lip.
“How old did you say she was?” she asked the coroner, her eyes flicking down to the rope burn on the woman’s – the girl’s – wrists and ankles.
“Twenty,” was Dr. Odinson’s accented reply. He turned around, glancing between the two detectives before taking a deep breath and turning his attention back to the body. “I’m afraid that there won’t be much investigating for the two of you to do here. The cause of death was a heart attack, pure and simple.”
“A twenty year old girl having a heart attack?” Detective Rogers scoffed. “I think you got your wires crossed, there, Loki.”
Natasha watched as a muscle in the coroner’s jaw twitched, and he let out a frustrated huff as he peeled off his medical gloves.
“Detective, this sort of thing happens all the time – freak accidents that can strike even the healthiest of people. They are…unfortunate, but they’re also a fact of life.” He tossed the balled up gloves into a trash can and whisked past them, bending over to type something into the laptop resting on his desk as he continued speaking to them.
“After reviewing her medical records, I found out that her father died two years ago from a heart attack; if I were a gambling man, I would say that a bad set of genes were the only culprit here.”
“What about the marks on her wrists?” Natasha asked. “They gotta mean something, right?”
“Oh, I’m sure they do,” Loki smirked, cutting his eyes over at her before straightening up. “It probably means that little Miss…” He paused, glancing down at a paper resting beside his computer. “Miss Allison Berry was into bondage before her untimely demise.”
“A woman is lying dead, Odinson,” Rogers spat. “Show some respect.”
Loki raised his hands up in surrender as he sauntered towards them.
“I apologize if I offended you, Detective,” he replied coolly. “I meant no disrespect. But I’ve run all the tests in the book. There were no signs of sexual assault, no signs of foul play. I’ll type up a proper report for the two of you, but I’m telling you now – the girl died of a heart attack.”
Natasha and Steve shared a look before turning back to the doctor.
“Have the report ready for us before the end of the day,” she ordered, patting Steve on the shoulder and gesturing for him to follow her as she made her way out of the cold morgue.
“Whatever you say, Officer.”
Natasha froze mid-step, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck bristle as a thousand images flashed through her mind after hearing him say that word. She gulped, oblivious to the confused look Steve was giving her, and she kept walking without turning back around.
“It’s Detective, now, doctor.”
The door clicked shut behind them, cutting off Loki’s dark chuckle as he was once again was left alone with Allison Berry’s body. His smile didn’t fade as he pulled on another pair of gloves; if anything, it grew as he finished the young woman’s autopsy.
“I was being honest with them; you know that, don’t you?” He winked at the girl’s unseeing eyes, his hands moving of their own accord as he stitched up the clean line he’d cut through the skin, bone, and muscle of her chest.
“It was just a heart attack.”
880 notes · View notes