#And yet.. I find myself frustrated with it all. As if having less intimate care of it all suddenly makes any interest in it invalid | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

physicalturian · 3 years

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[18+] Filthy Summer - Rengoku Kyojuro x GN!Reader (AFAB)

[No pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18] [AFAB Reader]

Words : 6710

Archive of our own

Follows the work of Gentle Summer or can be read on its own.

Synopsis : On a heated summer night, you and Rengoku decide to finally fuck after a pretty intimate moment.

Warning : Oral Sex / Light Bondage / Cunnilungus / Creampie / Cum play / Hair-Pulling / Power play / Marking / Aftercare / Fluff / Smut / Penis in vagina sex

If you feel like I should add more warnings, let's go gang.

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A comfortable silence had set in the night. I thought I would be exhausted. Wrapped in the safety of his arms, I was certain I would fall asleep in an instant, but my body did not want to listen to logic. Something else was doing the thinking, and that was my lust. My need for him. The moon outside was illuminating the inside of the room beautifully. I could not see much of Rengoku’s face because the light of the moon cast a shadow on it. The flame of the lantern had long since died out.

I brushed my hand delicately on his cheek and sighed in silence. There was nothing I could do to satiate that need that had built up inside me; he had fallen asleep almost instantly after laying down. It seems I was the only one who was left frustrated and wanting, it’s a shame, I thought I had done a great job at riling him up, I thought in disappointment. The image of his eyes widened in surprise and the feeling of his tight grip around my hand were carved inside my mind. No matter how hard I tried, I could not stop thinking about it.

Carefully, I brushed my thumb over his lips and smiled to myself as I moved his hand to rest it on my hip. Maybe his presence would help me fall asleep, maybe he would bring me closer and hold me tight and that would calm my stupidly awake mind. Closing my eyes once again, I tried to force myself to think of something other than his lips on my skin, or his hands on my stomach, or even his breath against my ear—it’s not working, it is like asking someone to not imagine a red balloon. Of course, they will think about it, I reprimanded myself as I opened my eyes again. “I need a cold bath, surely it will help,” I mumbled to myself. It was barely audible, and clearly not enough to awake anyone.

When I was about to move Kyojuro’s hand, I felt the grip tighten, “Where are you going?” His voice was nowhere close to sleepy, the clarity of it surprised me more than anything. Looking at him, I chuckled nervously and asked, “Were you not asleep?” He hummed deeply, thinking of his next words as his hand slid down my leg. He brought it over his thigh and moved his face closer to mine, our foreheads almost touching. “One can hardly sleep with how loud your thoughts are, my love,” I was about to ask what he meant when he pressed a slow kiss on my lips before continuing, “I am very flattered that you cannot keep my hands off of you.” His hands slithered to my kimono, the moonlight helping him see what he was doing. He chuckled softly at the knot I had tied around again and undid it effortlessly.

“Did you think tying it close would help those lewd thoughts that are plaguing your desperate mind?” He asked teasingly. I laughed and nodded sincerely, “In all honesty, I did. But you are right next to me, and those thoughts are only growing.” His beautiful laugh echoed while he pulled me even closer, I let my hand wander between us and lower on his body to part his kimono. He had not dressed back when we laid down, which made it easier to simply move his kimono out of the way to have him exposed in his full glory. “You are impatient, maybe I should do something about your hands, what would you say?” He asked teasingly as he helped my arms out of the sleeves before bringing them around his neck.

I gladly wrapped them around it and leaned in for a tender kiss that was quick to turn into something more needy. His hands did not join the mix, but I did hear the rustle of cloth which made me question what he was doing. I found out soon enough when his rough hands took hold of mine and wrapped my wrists with the cotton belt that only moments ago was around my waist. I broke the kiss in confusion, then felt him lift me onto his lap as he sat up, crossed-legged like he had earlier when he wanted us to hug. This hug was a lot different.

My knees were on each side of him and I could feel his hard cock against my stomach; my core ached to feel it, so I rolled my hips in the hope that he would let me do just that. With one hand back on my hip, he stopped me from moving and brought his other hand on his cock, “That neediness was not nearly as well depicted in your letters as it is right now, with your pretty legs open like this. It’s a sight that would make any man’s knees buckle, you are lucky I am seated.” His tone, while warm as usual, was not the same. The warmth that traveled my entire body was much more carnal, less charming. “Is that so? Being fully nude on your lap is all that is needed to make you weak?” I asked playfully. With the little access I had from having my wrists tied, I pulled his hair back gently to tilt his head up and look down at him.

A pretty grin was resting on his lips, it was inviting and what kind of guest would I be to refuse such an invitation... Slowly, I dipped my head and grazed my lips against his, making sure to exhale against his mouth as our noses brushed against one another. “Tell me, what else would make you weak?” I asked, my tone sultry and playful at the same time. I heard his breathless, yet choked laugh as he half-closed his eyes to look at me, “You remembered the hair, I like it. You seem to remember my letters so well… Tell me,” His lips were pressed teasingly on mine, I did not play along and kissed him with more fervor, only to have him push my face away by grabbing my jaw with a bit more force.

“Would you please wait? You seem so eager, but we are having a discussion, my love,” He trailed his open mouth from my chin to my ear then continued, “Then again, you were that eager even before that, who am I to act surprised?” He chuckled, kissing my jaw fully. I huffed a laugh to hide the fact that I was growing flustered and said, “So were you. Need I remind you how aroused you got the moment I started kissing your body? Such tender actions, tainted by your lewd thoughts... Quite sinful, wouldn’t you say?” The moment I finished talking, Rengoku placed his large hand on my lower back to push me closer as his other one was behind my head. He then leaned forward, making me fall back on my back on the futon.

I did not hit it hard thanks to his hands, but it felt weird not being able to catch my fall because of my tied hands. Another laugh escaped his lips, his eyes wide and bright as a proud smile adorned his lips. He slowly let go of my body and moved his head from my arms so that they were now still bound at the wrists, but resting between us. “Shall we re-enact those so-called tender actions of yours?” I was confused by his words, then felt his large hand grab mine and guide them to his cock. He then wrapped them around it, sighing in pleasure when I tightened my hold around his erected member. “Good, yes-“ A groan escaped his throat as he bucked his hips inside my hands, dropping his head onto my shoulder as he kept going, his mouth open as his breath was constricted.

“Those beautiful hands that-“ a salacious moan escaped his lips again, this time right next to my ear. I couldn’t help but try to bring him closer by bringing my foot on his back and digging my heel against it to push him closer. I wanted to feel him, not just hold his cock, even if the idea of being in control of his pleasure was more than exciting. “Were so gentle in taking care of me, but-“ I could hear the smile through his words, “...but all they are good for now-“ another deep groan muffled against my skin, I wanted to see how far he would go, if he would only find his own pleasure or if he was simply having fun. I was waiting for an opportunity. “Is to make my cock feel so good-“ Feeling like his thrusts were getting wilder, more desperate, I did the thing I found the most entertaining in times like these. The moment he bit into my shoulder in pleasure, I let go of his cock and heard him gasp loudly next to me in indignation.

“Do not talk about my hands as such, they can take as much as they give.” I said tauntingly as I pressed my cheek to his face only to have him lean back and look at me with an amused expression. “I suppose it is time to enjoy how beautiful your voice is,” He grinned as he moved back slightly and was now kneeling between my spread legs. I could not keep my gaze on his eyes, for mine kept looking down at his glorious cock that seemed to be needing attention. “Although I wish to make you moan loudly, you will have to be quiet-“ “What if my moans were muffled by… something?” I tried to make him understand by looking down between his legs. His expression faltered, seemingly surprised by my suggestion.

I did not miss the smile in the corner of his mouth as he threaded his hand through his hair before slowly standing up and lighting the lantern. He joined my side again, this time he brought a knee to his chest while his other leg was free in front of him. “Seeing how you seem almost hungry for it, I will not refuse.” He gestured for me to come closer. I sat up properly and knelt in front of him, only to have him spread my knees with a gentle laugh. “You look delicious like that, my dear.” He commented, his hands sliding to my slit to stroke it a few times, eliciting a gasp from my throat.

He brought his fingers back to his mouth and licked it, the action in itself was so vulgar but the smile on his face was soft. His words were a mix of both, “You know, you must always have a taste of your meal, in case it’s not to your liking.” He leaned in and kissed me tenderly, albeit shortly, leaving me wanting more with my mouth open. He filled it with his fingers to have me taste it too and added, as I licked them clean, “After all, I will eat you out once you have satiated that hunger for my cock.” I almost gagged on his fingers upon hearing his words, he pulled them out laughing before threading them in my hair and slowly pushing my head towards his cock.

“There, I did say I would work on that gagging, did I not? It is the perfect opportunity,” He was almost determined. His other hand placed itself under my chin and held it gently as he helped his cock inside my mouth, holding me still as he did so. His fingers drummed on my throat a few times as silent gasps escaped his lips. “Very—good, yes-“ He grunted in short sentences, if one could call them such. My tongue was pressed against his length, I could feel it hit the back of my throat and slightly push in, making my eyes tear up. Saliva was already drooling from my mouth, and down the length of his cock. Curiously, I looked up at him and was met with a look I would have never thought I would see on his face, something close to threatening, no… dangerous.

Slowly, I tried to bob my head onto his member, but without the support of my hands that had drifted between my legs, I had to rely on Kyojuro’s tight grip in my hair. Sliding his hand fully around my throat, he looked at me with what was supposed to be a reassuring smile. “Beautiful, so full-“ He hissed as he moved inside my mouth, lifting my head only to let it come back after. His hand tightened around my neck at the feeling, enjoying knowing he could feel himself there. “Will you allow me to fuck your throat good? I will not finish in your mouth,” I nodded the best I could with his cock in my mouth and started stimulating myself as he started bobbing my head on his cock. While he did so, he gritted through his teeth, beaming, “I reserve that for you needy- aching- hole,” The thoughts of having him fill me only aroused me more.

Pain joined the exquisite feeling of my fingers on my clitoris, his grip was not letting go of my hair one bit as he lowered my head down his cock before pulling back. At first he leaned his head back, enjoying the feeling greatly, the sound of my whimpers around him made him more than ecstatic. I knew it from his openmouthed moans that he was not muffling one bit. When I started rolling my hips against my hand, he looked down at me suddenly, stopping his actions. “My dearest, do you need attention?” He hummed inquisitively, his eyes traveling down my body to land on my hands. “I see what’s going on, you are very smart to enjoy yourself too,” He praised me before thrusting his hips once in my throat. I gagged at the feeling, more tears streaming down my face but held back anything that I could feel coming up. “I will stop for tonight, since you are so needy.” He cooed gently.

Delicately, he pulled out of my mouth, grunts leaving his throat as he did so. A trail of saliva connected my tongue to his tip; looking at him through half-lidded eyes, I leaned in and licked it painfully slow. He quickly pulled my head back roughly, then let go to cradle my face with both hands. “You did good.” A tender kiss followed, it turned more passionate when he pried my mouth open and let his tongue venture. As he did so, he pushed me back onto the futon and broke the kiss. “Will you forgive me if I tell you the sight of tears rolling down your cheeks, along the feeling of my cock in your throat, is one that I would like engraved in my mind? You have no idea how salacious and endearing it was at the same time.”

Both chuckling, he trailed kisses down my chest to my stomach. While he did so, I croaked, “I will forgive, simply because you must be quite the sight too with my thighs around your head.” I must have caught him off guard for he snorted without much charm upon hearing my words. “I will admit, it is the best accessory I can ask for,” He commented, his fingernails barely clawing at my inner thighs as he looked at me, “And I like colorful accessories, do you?” His tone was mischievous, his eyes too but his smile was sweet. Hesitantly, I nodded. It made him grin broadly as he started fervently kissing my thighs, sucking and licking. Nibbling on them too. While his mouth would be on my inner thighs, one hand would be gripping the one being attacked while the other wrapped around the other thigh and kept it close to him.

I would sometimes chuckle at the light feeling of his tongue on my skin, goosebumps raising all over my body. I threaded my fingers through his hair gently, needing to touch him but only being able to reach that part. My legs were over his shoulders; I could feel some pain coming on the parts of my legs he had been working on, but was able to not pay it any mind thanks to the frustration I was feeling. He was so close to giving me pleasure, but he was taking his sweet time. “Kyo, why are you taking so long? Please…” He looked up, his smile more teasing than ever. “My love…” He bit my leg gently, his eyes never leaving mine before continuing, “I assumed you were patient, considering it took some long, painful courting to get us right here.” He bit the other thigh, earning himself a groan from me. He grazed his teeth on it afterwards, “I remember the mention of not wanting to be inappropriate in those beautiful letters of yours.” He trailed off, his hands slithering between my legs and onto my ass as he suddenly pulled me closer.

“Tell me, don’t you believe it vulgar to be spread as such in front of me?” I felt warmth rushing to my cheeks and down between my legs, my back was oscillating between burning hot and cold from the shivers that kept coursing through my body. “If you do not like the sight, you may let go of them, I will close them to not look too vulgar.” I said in faux confidence, making him huff in response. Shaking his head, he made sure to spread them just a little bit more. His observant eyes travelled from my eyes down to my stomach then paused to slowly lower to my spread legs; there, a smirk drew itself on his lips, “You will close them, yes,” after saying that, he lowered his head onto my slit, “Around my head. Don’t be shy to wrap them real tight, I can assure you I will survive.” He winked, then dipped his head and started lapping at my cunt.

I wanted to cover my mouth and hold onto his hair, but could only do one. I chose the former, in order to not wake up everyone with the whimpers escaping my lips. With each movement of his tongue between my lower lips, I would arch my back when he’d graze my clit with the tip of his tongue. His nose would press against it from time to time, giving it a little bit of pressure, but not nearly as much as I would need. I tried to angle my hips to guide myself on a spot that would make me feel even better, but he made sure to hold me still by gripping my sides. Looking up with a glistening chin and out of breath, he gave a slow lick between my legs, “Are you alright? Perhaps, is it not good enough?” His tone was teasing, arrogant, but loving still. I wanted to grab his chin and kiss him deeply, but did not trust he would let me. Freeing my mouth, I uttered, “You are doing it on purpose, can you please…”

Tilting his head to the side he quirked a brow, “If you look at me like this, I can hardly refuse,” He started, there was something else he wanted to add. I knew it from the look he was giving me. He did not disappoint when he spoke up again. “But only if you bring those beautiful hands back on my hair. My purpose here is to make my songbird sing, I can hardly hear anything if your hands are covering your mouth my love.” Doing as he asked, I brought my hands to him, but instead of gripping his hair I gently took hold of his chin, “So you do keep that beautiful way with words,” I commented as I pressed my thumbs on his lower lip to open his mouth. He followed my moves and did so, his smile never leaving his face. “If filthy words will not leave that pretty mouth of yours, I suppose I’ll fill it with filth myself.”

I was thrilled to see his smile change from mischievous to excited, challenged. I mirrored it. He was quick to bring my hands away from his face and into his hair wordlessly. His only response was to resume his actions with a lot more fervor, his tongue lapping at my sex with the lewdest sounds. The ache I had been feeling for so long was growing and building up inside me, I only realized my thighs were tightening around his head when I felt him grunt against my sex as his nails dug deeper in my skin. Whimpers were flooding from my mouth; it was not nearly enough to drown the salacious wet sounds from his tongue between my legs. While it made my entire body heat up in embarrassment, I could not spare one ounce of energy to feel remotely ashamed of what was happening. Moans soon followed when he started sucking on my clit, his eyes lit up with pride when he elicited a louder one.

At that, his hands slithered to my thighs to hold them open instead of around his head. He looked up at me playfully as he did so, “I liked that one, I am sure you could do it again, for me?” “Kyo—Kyo we’re not alone, don’t-“ He did not listen and returned all his attention to my sensitive nerves. My brows knotted in pleasure, I let my head roll back. I was getting close to relief, my eyes riveted on the ceiling as my entire body tensed. He did not seem like stopping, nothing was leading me to that conclusion, and it made me happier the moment my vision filled with white, and I let out a cry of relief. Utter silence followed, I slumped back on the mattress and sighed in content, my hand had long since let go of Rengoku’s hair and was now resting on my stomach.

I gasped when I felt a lazy tongue lick between my folds then saw Kyojuro’s face right above mine, a stupid smile on his lips. His skin glistened from my filth. He was not grinning, but I knew something was going on when he kissed me softly and pried my mouth open to deepen the kiss. His tongue intruded my mouth with something more salty than saliva, it took me some time to come to the realization of what he had done; I quickly broke the kiss and swallowed to speak but was interrupted by the sliding of the door open. I looked behind Rengoku’s shoulder in panic, trying to bring him against me to cover my sweaty form. It was pointless to fake sleeping since the light was on and my eyes were wide in shock.

The sleepy form of Uzui stood there, his hair messy and his eyes, half-closed, focused on us. “It’s Tengen.” I whispered to Rengoku who still had his back facing the door. “He is half-asleep.” I added. The red-haired smirked and kissed my neck, “I’ll tell him to leave.” He chuckled before pulling the blanket on my form as he stood up. He did not bother to cover himself as he made his way to the door, fully nude and uncaring of anything. “Giyuu said he heard something, but since it was coming from your room he did not dare come in case y’all were…” the silver-haired man waved his hands in front of him to explain exactly what he meant; as he tried to look behind Kyojuro’s shoulder, the latter moved in the way to block his view. “In case you were fucking, clearly he guessed right.” He laughed, facing the Fire Pillar again. “We are, is there anything else?” Rengoku asked.

There was a pause, I was starting to calm down which made me feel annoyed since I wanted to finish what I had started with my lover. “Well, clearly the night has just started,” The Sound Pillar laughed again, “Just tone down the moans and all that, fuck all you want but just a bit more silent, yeah?” Kyo nodded and gestured for him to leave, still as confident as ever without needing to cover his cock, nor the marks all over his body. Before leaving, Uzui glanced behind Rengoku the best he could and covered his mouth in excitement before looking at my lover again. “Tied up? On the first fuck? You are wilder than I thought, Ren!” I heard him say, quickly I tried to cover my hands more. Uzui slapped his hand on the lion-like man’s shoulder and said, “Good for you, both of you. Have fun, don’t be late for training—and take a bath, there is paint all over the damn place. That’s some weird shit you’re into, not going to lie. Good night friend.” He then bid us goodbye and closed the door again.

Rengoku returned by my side in seconds, “Unnecessary interruption, I hope it did not turn you off my love.” He whispered softly as he removed the blanket from my form and pressed a kiss on my stomach. “All of this because you told me to uncover my mouth, it was obvious someone would hear.” I berated him playfully, thinking he would perhaps apologize but still say he did not regret it. While he did the latter, partially, he added more to it. “If it was that obvious, why did you do it?” He asked with a smug smile, his face close to mine once again as his fingers danced on my thighs. Slowly, they slid to the inner side of it while I stared at him confused, “Because you asked me to do it…” I told him with my cheeks heating up.

“You could have refused, my love.” He breathed, his lips ghosting over mine. “You know I would not have minded if you had refused.” He added, this time pressing a teasing kiss on my lips. I could feel the smile on his lips as his hair tickled the side of my face. Breaking the kiss for a moment, he pressed himself more against me and as he spoke, “Did you want to get caught?” he slid two fingers inside me, making me gasp silently at the unexpected feeling. I shut my mouth to hold back any groans from the thrusts of his fingers, but he was not having it; his free hand moved to my mouth and pried it open with his thumb, his expression softer than ever. “There, my love, I am sure you can give me a proper answer. Don’t be distracted by my fingers, focus on me.” As he said so, he made sure to add another finger and to rub his thumb on my clit.

Swearing under my breath, I tried to grab his shoulders, but was still bound and grunted in desperation. “Maybe you wanted that—“ He curled his fingers inside me, grunting in satisfaction at the sound that escaped my throat. Rengoku’s face was nested in my neck, his teeth grazing my skin as he whispered right next to my ear, “My love, you obeyed so dutifully when I told you to open your pretty mouth,” He chuckled to himself, never stopping his thrusts as I kept whimpering under him, trying hard to stay as silent as possible. When I rolled my hips against his hand, he kissed my temple softly and caressed my cheek. The tenderness of his actions could not balance the roughness of the one that followed when he grabbed my throat to bring me into a delicate kiss that he quickly broke. “Can you obey once more and answer my simple question? I’m sure you can be good and do that for me, hm?”

Giving him a long look, I smiled lazily and cradled his face in my hands to kiss him longingly, the sounds of my moans were muffled by his mouth. It did not take long for the kiss to grow more sloppy, more needy and clearly hungry. Feeling Kyojuro’s cock pressed against my thigh, I closed them around his cock and made him moan into the kiss, breaking it in the process. “Do not think I will be satisfied with just fucking your beautiful thighs, my love,” His gaze never leaving mine, he brushed his thumb on my throat and pulled his fingers out to spread my legs and instead place his between mine. Leaning over once again, he pressed the tip of his cock against my hole but did not move, instead he kissed my cheek, then my throat and grabbed my tied hands delicately. My eyes followed all of his movements, never leaving his body. I wanted to know what he wanted to do next, I wanted to be ready, to not be caught off guard again. “Would you like to use your hands again? I’d like to think it would feel better for both of us if you could use them.” He smiled gently, his hands playing with mine while waiting for an answer.

“I think you’ve held me down long enough; I would love to be able to run my hands all over your gorgeous body.” I said playfully, thrusting my hands towards him even more. I held back from smiling to not let him know what I was planning on doing. He scoffed and smiled before undoing the knot; the moment I was free, it did not take me more than a few seconds to bring him down and roll him over to be the one on top and pin his hands above his head.

The thrilled expression that was adorning his features filled me up with glee as I leaned over and ghosted my lips over his, just as he did before. “My turn,” I breathed with a smirk, “But I won’t tie your hands, I think they will be more than useful when you will be desperate to feel me more.” I taunted as I placed my hands on his hips and raised my hips above his hardened cock; I did not have time to lower myself that the Pillar held me in place and sat up. It made me move my hands on his shoulders and grip them tight, in case he decided to take control. “Do you remember my question? I believe I am still waiting for your answer.” He grinned darkly, an open kiss pressed at the spot where my neck and my shoulders met.

“It was… thrilling that Uzui was there, but it is simply because it is the boldest we’ve been in front of him,” I said softly, then lowered my tone and ghosted my lips against the shell of his ear as I added, “If I am being honest, seeing you walk there without covering yourself was a lot hotter than that idiot being there,” One of my hands placed itself on his jaw as I kissed his cheek, “And I got to see your beautiful bum too, which is more than a simple sight.” Chuckling, we kissed passionately, our hands traveling one another’s body. I could feel his cheeks were burning up, perhaps from the efforts and all the energy spent, but I liked to think he was flustered from my words. I realized his hands were not holding me anymore, while they were resting on my hips again by the end of our fiery kiss, they were doing just that, resting.

With my hands back on his shoulders, I did not waste time and lowered myself onto his cock. I tried hard to hold back the swearing from flooding out of my mouth, but the feeling of his cock stretching me out was painful and blissful at the same time. Without paying attention, I had spread my legs wider to get more of him inside me. Warmth spread all over my body when I heard him sigh in content, his hands gripping my waist to hold himself back from pulling me onto him with force. His nails were pressing hard into my skin and only dug more when I had him fully sheathed inside me and I rolled my hips once, twice. Looking up at him, I saw he was staring at me with hunger, a clear carnal desire that I matched by kissing him wantonly. One hand was splayed on his cheek while the other held onto his shoulder as I started lifting myself up and down his erected cock, rolling my hips as I did so. Soon enough, our grunts of pleasure started filling the room, our sweaty bodies melted into one when he wrapped his strong arm around my back and pulled me even closer.

The slick sound of his cock thrusting in and out of me made the act even more vulgar, but at this very moment I could not care less. I was focused on feeling each part of him, on feeling his burning touch traveling from my back to my shoulders as he tried to bring me even closer to bury his face in the crook of my neck. His moans were the most beautiful sounds I’ve ever heard coming from him, the heat emanating from his entire body was heating mine in return. His warm breath made my neck feel like it was on fire, even more so when he bit into it and groaned in pleasure as he started thrusting more. I had long since wrapped both of my arms around his neck and was holding onto him with force.

No words could escape my mouth, only whimpers and muffled moans as I tried to cover my mouth. I kept switching between covering my mouth or grabbing his shoulders, desperately trying to stay balanced but when he leaned forward, I let him tilt me back onto the floor with his hand resting behind my head. With his free hand, he held onto my waist and started ramming into me, his breath ragged and his mouth open as groans and moans escaped it, emphasizing each of his thrusts. Seeing him so primal was a sight I do not believe I could get tired of. Through high-pitched whimpers I reached out for his face, sliding my hand to the back of his hair as I pulled him closer once again. “Kiss me, please.” I pleaded. “Yes, of course, yes.” He replied, his speech hurried, tone desperate as he lifted my head from the ground with the hand resting behind it. The kiss was clumsy, dirty but it felt so good.

It felt so good to be this close to him, to not think of anything but the pleasure one was giving the other. He hiked my leg over his hip to angle himself better and as he did so, I arched my back in satisfaction, he had hit the perfect spot. He must have understood that since he swelled with pride and kept hitting that very spot over and over again, his speed decreased to a taunting one. “Look at you, squirming for more,” He huffed and caressed my stomach, down to my thighs, “Are you close, my love?” He had asked with a soft breathless smile, his hair covering the sides of his face. “Yes, please,” I let my head fall back once more and sighed, trying to catch my breath, “Please, make me cum, I’m aching for release, if you don’t—“ There was no need for threats, he was more than glad to resume his thorough fucking. There was no other word for it.

The entire evening had been love making, intimacy, gentle touches, but it had now turned into something so desperate that it could only be called fucking. Hands reaching for any sort of hold onto the other, sweat making the grip less secure, the paint from our bodies had long since tainted the sheets and was no longer adorning our backs. Our hands were covered in said paint, and as they traveled from back to shoulder to face, it left a colorful trail that made the body look even more like a work of art.

Soon enough, the tension that had built up inside me reached a peak. All I needed to break that tension was a few more thrusts that were strongly provided by Rengoku’s rough, heavy, forceful hips. At this blissful moment, all I managed to do was hold his arms in a death grip and mutter his name under my breath alongside swears as I felt myself tense for what felt like too long before letting my entire body relax and my hands fall back to my side. Kyojuro followed soon enough, one hand reaching for my cheek as he caressed me gently. His look was desperate as his thrusts became more erratic, seeing as if he was about to pull out, I wrapped my leg around his waist to stop him and with a tired arm reached out for the side of his neck to pull him close. “Don’t pull out, I want to feel you, all of you.” That was all he needed to finish, his movements stopping as his head fell back in utter pleasure.

Silence followed, moments after Kyojuro laid down next to me in exhaustion. He still had enough energy to help my head onto his chest to caress me gently, both of our bodies were dirty and reeked of sweat, but I could not care less. I did not want to think of anything but this very moment, from his words he wanted that too, “If you give me one hour, I am sure I could do that again.” He whispered, his eyes locked on the ceiling as a proud smile adorned his lips.

Trying to face him, I turned around on his chest with my chin resting on it. “Give me a few days, I am definitely not ready for more. As good as it was, I am out of commission for the time being.” I laughed as I trailed my hand on the scar on his stomach. I was relieved when he did not tense up and instead mimicked my actions but trailing a finger on the scar on my back. “Do you have energy to spare for a bath? I do not believe we’ll have time in the morning to bathe. It is already pretty late.” He explained softly as he rested his cheek against the side of my head, I was already starting to feel sleepy but knowing he was right, I pushed myself off of him and nodded sleepily. “I will find the energy. If I fall asleep in the bath, it is your responsibility. Understood?” I asked playfully as I handed him his kimono before draping mine over my form.

“I will keep you awake by talking to you without ever stopping, does that sound good?” He asked cutely as he stood up. He reached out for my hand, helping me stand up before pulling me close and hugging me gently.

“There is nothing more I could ask for than to hear you talk, please do.” I huffed a laugh then kissed him tenderly, enjoying each and every second spent by his side on this beautiful evening. When I pulled back, I tucked his hair behind his ears and grinned, “Tying your hair was not very helpful considering most of it fell from the ribbon.”

“It matters not! I looked very hot to you for a moment, I am sure you enjoyed it while it lasted.” He winked, his hand sliding down my arm to hold my hand. “Now you have the responsibility to wash my hair-“ “Mane,” I corrected him, “It is no longer hair seeing how many knots there are in it.” I continued playfully as we made our way out of the bedroom.

As we finished the night, I thought for a second I could imagine spending the rest of my life in this pure happiness, having someone I loved by my side, taking care of that someone as they took care of me.

Maybe everything will be alright, maybe I’m allowed some happiness.

#demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba x rader #rengoku x reader #kny rengoku #demon slayer rengoku #kny rengoku x reader #kny rengoku kyojuro #kyojuro rengoku x reader #rengoku kyojuro #kimetsu no yaiba rengoku #rengoku kyoujurou #smut #physicalturian #writing #writer #filthy summer #ao3 physicalturian

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docholligay · 2 years

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I am, today, thirty-six years old.

In Judaism, eighteen is the number for life, owing to what largely comes down to spelling, and the order of the Hebrew alphabet, but what comes to have cultural meaning very often has little to do with sense. We create guideposts in our lives like cairns marking a trail, to let us know we are still on the path, and why we put them where they are isn’t nearly so important as they fact that they are there.

Thirty-six, is double life. I have done twice as much living as the last time.

I can sometimes frustrate myself, in thinking that I don’t change much, that despite my efforts to move forward, I am an ill-tempered and stubborn little shit. That I never learn. That every year things go around, and I am back to where I started.

But I see the cairn, on the path, and I remember the last one.

Who was I, at eighteen? I was nonpracticing, I was on my own in nearly every possible sense. I was seeking to bury myself, in a nonliteral but also perhaps extremely literal sense, in heavy drinking, in living hard, in picking fights with people twice my size, in more than a few drug-based incidents. I sought something, and I had no idea what that was.

I was lonely for myself, in many ways. Back then I would have told you the odds of me seeing thirty-six were dodgy at best, and I was more or less satisfied with that. Nothing gold can stay, I would have said, with a blend of drama, surrender, and intense, unmitigated arrogance that makes me roll my eyes as I sit here thinking about it.

I don’t mean to say that I was a bad person, and now I am a good one. I think that flattens us both, me and her, the girl I used to be. The girl who had not yet become Doc, even in name. She wasn’t all bad. She had my same impulsive generosity and deep curiosity. She was very brave, to a fault. But she wasn’t near as smart as she thought she was, nor her tragedies quite as beautiful. She was having a pretty bad time, but some of it was her own damn fault.

In the same way, the woman I’ve become isn’t all good. I’m still ill-tempered, though decidedly more likely to make myself take a lap around the block before deciding to act. I’m scatterbrained and forgetful to a point that makes me furious with myself, often. I’m very stubborn, and find myself having to go back and apologize when it would have been better not to snap in the first place. To learn how to relent.

But, Doc of thirty-six does apologize. So there’s that.

I looked at a picture of myself at eighteen, probably about a week ago. I was pretty, long red hair cascading down my back, bright blue eyes accentuated with contacts and a delicate cheek, being brushed by the summer sun. I am in a pink sundress made of old vintage material I found at the MRM, and there are a few freckles dappling my shoulders from the hot of that summer. There are so many things I would tell her, so many dreams she’ll get to fulfill that she’d already written off in what she assumed was the exchange for a life lived in freedom. So many edges that are going to be softened by time, and that she’ll be surprised how grateful she is for that. She’d probably laugh out loud if I leaned against the doorframe of that shitty and cold one room cottage on the back of a ranch and told her she’d go to Europe. She’d write, and people would read it.

She’d forgive her parents their failings.

A life cannot be lived backward, whatever the combined wisdom of Merlin and Benjamin Button say, and largely I’ve avoided looking too much behind me. Doc is dead, long live Doc. Anything from my past that wants to get at me has to call to me and then catch up. I don’t wait for it.

Maybe that’s something I can work on for fifty-four.

Because looking back at that eighteen year old has shown me some things about thirty-six year old me. I am good at looking at myself with a critical eye. I know my flaws intimately, and I can list them very quickly. I don’t try to make them cute. I am not one of those people who says, ‘Oh I just CARE too much about people’s feelings and don’t care about my own,’ or one of those flaws that is meant mostly to express how good and tender one is. I am not. I know this about myself.

But seeing how far I’ve come, means something. I’m not as gentle or calm as some of my friends I admire, but I have grown in patience and understanding by wide miles. I still have a quick temper, but I don’t always allow it to drive my actions. I make myself take a step back. My lifestyle shows a desire to live and love, and to be loved, instead of burn myself to the ground. I have taken so much of my immense intensity and turned it toward goodness and help and community.

I still have a fire, but it gives warmth and light more like a parlor fire, less like a blazing house.

I can be proud of that. I would have been on everyone’s top ten lists to die before she was thirty, and here I stand, six years after that fact, not a perfect woman, or even a good one, but someone I think who pursues goodness. I try. Not always hard enough, and not always in the right ways, but I try. Eighteen year old me was not trying.

And I can forgive her for that too. I know she does, eventually. She keeps walking.

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choibinn3 · 3 years

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GET IT TOGETHER, JUNGWON!!

[ four. O_o Yang Jungwonnie ]

series masterlist

⋆·˚ ༘ * in which jungwon had meant for that love letter to go to yeri, and not you—her bff. for some reason though, he finds that with each moment he spends together with you he's closer and closer to forgetting all about that damn letter.

luv note - chloe moriondo

WRITTEN PORTION. 1.9k words

btw remember that second hand embarrassment tag?? yeahh....

ps. this is bad, very, very bad and cheesy so be warned (its meant to be, but youll still feel pain lol)

—

student council room.

Jungwon could feel his hands clamming up, but he instead urged himself to just swallow down his nerves. For the past week he thought the biggest worry he had was his parents and Student Council work.

Not potentially losing friendships and breaking your heart.

"Jungwon? Are you still there?" your voice asked. It was slightly muffled by the door, but still distinct. "I had to tell Hyuka to go back without me."

You, he remembered. He had to fix this. He had known you since you were both in kindergarten, incidentally somehow being in the same classes up until High School. Still, he didn't know you though.

You were closer than acquaintances, maybe a little less than friends, and definitely not more than people with mutual friends. With everything that had been happening since the Student Council election, he had assumed he'd get closer to you naturally. It just never happened though, but he enjoyed your company when he could.

Yeri on the other hand, he was connected with. Being both Student Council President and Vice President meant they worked together often, and he found himself being drawn to her sweetness. He enjoyed their dynamic and their current friendship.

The way they worked complemented each other, and she always found a way to make him smile—it seemed as though her kindness and generosity knew no bounds. Plus, she related to him in a way none of his other friends did.

Late, after class and after hours, they'd both talk casually while doing paperwork. Jungwon's parents were hardheaded and stubborn people, wanting the best for him and yet stressing him out. They were the whole reason he ran for President in the first place.

He couldn't find it in himself to hate them though.

Yeri was the same, and she supported him throughout all the difficult times he went through because of them. She was soft, so level headed, fiercely loyal, and unbelievably pretty.

They had been partners and friends for a little over a month, and Jungwon was sure he wanted to at least try with her. It was young, new and unfurling feelings, it was something he wanted to find out.

Your energetic personality was charming, but that was all it was. It didn't strike his heart in any particular way. Jungwon was almost 100% sure there was no way Yeri would ever date him after this, but he needed to prioritize your feelings currently.

He just hoped Yeri and him could still be friends afterwards though—because being a liar was the one thing Jungwon wasn't.

"Yeah," he called out, "still here. You can just come back in now."

He watched as you nervously peeled back the sliding door of the clubroom, inching inside to peer at him. You walked closer to stand in front of him, and Jungwon smiled in hopes of easing your anxiousness.

You threw one back, although a bit hesitantly. "Jungwon," you started, twiddling with your fingers. He simply watched—wanting to at least let you talk a bit. Crushing your feelings now would be nothing but brutal. "Honestly, I was really surprised with the letter. Do you... remember back in 3rd grade?"

"No? I'm sorry, I'm not good with memories from Elementary School," the doe-eyed boy replied. He was telling the truth, grade school felt like ages ago and he just hasn't had the time to reminisce on childhood memories.

You held your hands up in a defensive manner. "That's fine! Um, you like... Uhh, how do I say this..." You made gestures with your figures, hoping to convey it to him in one way or another. God, this was dumb.

Jungwon observed silently as you laughed at your own stuttering. Endearing, came to mind. That was cute.

In the Council Room and in class, you were always particularly enthusiastic and excitable. Seeing you bashful was a very different side of you for the black-haired boy.

"I sent you my own love letter once. Like, a long, long time ago, and you sort of rejected me? I think."

"You think?" The boy held back a laugh, but quickly composed himself. He wasn't laughing maliciously, just... how could you be unsure of such a thing? "I'm sorry, but I still don't remember."

"Yeah, that's fine!" You nodded, embarrassed from his almost-chuckle. You did not want to seem like an idiot in front of him today. "Actually, I don't remember much either, but you didn't reply to it."

Jungwon gazed at your brows furrowed from trying to think of more words to say, and suddenly he felt a tonne of guilt fall onto him. His expression grew solemn.

Quick, get it over with, before this would get any worse.

"Look, YN—"

He had to shut his mouth almost immediately.

"What I'm trying to say is—!" You took a deep breath. "I've liked you since then! Since years, and years ago," you finally blurted, closing your eyes as to not see his reaction.

"You're the only one I've ever felt this way towards. I thought once I grew up this warmth would just... go away, but it hasn't and I don't think it will. I was honestly going to just swallow it all down hoping I'd get over it before we graduate, but I couldn't. My feelings were overflowing—I just found myself finding more things about I liked about you instead."

Your goal today was to not embarrass yourself, but to hastily tell him you liked him too before sprinting away. It seemed as though nothing was going to plan so far, for neither of you, actually.

Jungwon was left unable to speak from your surprising declaration. You took that as a sign to continue. Whatever happened next was something for future you to panic over.

"I like your dimples, that smile you make when you're passing by strangers in the hallway, and the way your hair falls when you comb through it. You're admirable in everything you do, truly. The way you help underclassmen, the way you always make sure to assist teachers during your free periods, and how you never seem to complain or get frustrated when we make mistakes."

You had nurtured your feelings for what felt like forever. Even when you were technically rejected back then, and even now. At first, you thought that he would be a passing crush from when you were a kid—but he wasn't. He grew into his own so much so that you found yourself admiring his leadership, compassion and thoughtfulness with each day you watched him.

"I like how mature you are, how you still find the time to care for your friends even with Student Council work, the natural way you light up any room you walk into, how I could honestly hear your voice talk for hours on end, how even though we haven't spoken much you still remember my favorite color from when I told you during introductions, I'm rambling gahh, just—all of it! I like all of it, everything about you!"

Everyday of harboring your secret affections for the boy consisted of soft glances during his speeches, wishes to be able to encase his hand within yours to interlock your fingers under the table during meetings, and wantings to be more than what you were to him. It was alright for a while, but it had started to become painful.

All crushes are painful, you told yourself in 5th grade, watching him start to receive confessions from your classmates.

"—I like you! I've liked you since the 3rd grade, and so I accept! I really, really want to be with you Yang Jungwon. Please take care of me!"

They were all painful, but you were given the chance to make yours not. To make your feelings real and acknowledged, to bare yourself in front of him like a vivisection—and you were taking it. Even when you were practically trembling from the embarrassment.

Jungwon was stilled from the shock. Heeseung had already told him of your long held feelings, but hearing it from your mouth while you had your eyes shut tight made him flustered.

How were you able to do that so shamelessly? To be so vulnerable and weak in front of someone? He had to write a whole letter, albeit a bit poorly, and somehow you were able to say it all.

He's received confessions before, felt those kind of feelings, but he wouldn't have been able to yell out those sort of things ever—no matter how strong his feelings were. You were dangerously bold, he thought.

Bold enough to send a bright heat to overtake his cheeks.

You looked up finally after mustering enough courage from his lack of speaking, only to find yourself blinking at a red-faced Jungwon. Oh my God, he's blushing...! YOU did that.

The both of you stood there for a while, thinking the same thought of what is even happening? Is this real, or have I just been in a daze for the past few days? Jungwon's eyes were comically wide and his mouth was gaping, but he couldn't find it in himself to close it.

The thought made you gain confidence all of a sudden, finding the opportunity to do something you had always wanted to do. Quickly and stealthily, you went onto your tippy toes—

and kissed him on the cheek.

Jungwon felt your lips on the smooth expanse of his skin, and smelt your scent from the intimate proximity. It was a chaste gesture, almost no where close to his lips at all, but he heard his heart beating against his ribcage nonetheless. It thrummed in his ears like a drum, and he wanted to whisper for it to stop.

For it to not be swayed so easily.

It was the innocence of such a thing that got to him. Not once had Jungwon held hands, kissed, or even confessed to someone up until now. Of course, you suddenly getting so close and pecking him with your hands balled up would send his heart into a flurry.

The usually put together Student Council President in front of you let out a strangled noise from the back of his throat, the tips of his ears and face becoming rosier. His throat was closing up, God, why was his throat closing up? Not now, please. He couldn't even remember what he was meant to be saying.

You smiled at him, happy to be rendering him to such a state. It was one of the most impulsive things you've done up to date, but you couldn't find yourself regretting it.

This was what those coming of age dramas on TV were describing—it was the start of one of those cheesy, really bad High School romances. Fervent, mushy, uncertain, but so tender it made your heart ache for hours even after watching.

As you retreated slowly, he caught a glimpse of your bright eyes, downcast lashes, and—holy shit you were so close. He could see the particular way you curled your lips.

He had to hold his breath.

Jungwon watched as your expression morphed into one of slight mischievousness, and an inkling of something softer, before you dashed out the sliding doors—

"Wait!

The sudden motion made him gain his words back, but you were already through the hallways with your hand on your bag.

—leaving him with nothing but the memory and the patter of your footsteps. So fast, so much speed, were you in track? The past few seconds were nothing but a blur of confusion and feelings he didn't want felt.

What just... What just happened?

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TLDR (but whyy :( pls read it); jungwon goes to do take backsies on his confession, u kiss his cheek, he goes coocoo bananas!!!

TAGLIST; @lumixen @ghjasksdk @atinyyylove @jjikyuu @yjwooon @ncityy04 @tyunni @littlewolfieposts @xoxojayd3n @rosiechaengz @sunshine-skz @youreverydayzebra @hobistigma @plshhhhhhh @lokideadontheinside @alo-ehas @milkycloudtyg @bangtopia

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i wanted to emphasize how new his feelings for yeri :] if u could guess what this could mean. alsoooo... did u notice how fast this went ? i intended it to be rushed and "in the moment" like it was in the scene hehe

#yang jungwon x reader #jungwon x reader #jungwon smau #yang jungwon x y/n #yang jungwon x you #jungwon angst #enhypen angst #jungwon fluff #jungwon drabbles #enhypen drabbles #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #jungwon imagines #enhypen social media au #enhypen socmed au #jungwon social media au #jungwon scenarios #get it together jungwon!! smau #get it together jungwon!!

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amysubmits · 3 years

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“Just Knowing” & Communication

I got an ask recently asking if I could write something about how doms seem to sometimes “instinctively know” things about their sub, and how communication plays into that.

I thought it was a great point, and I had an experience that I’d been wanting to share in some way, that I thought would work well within that concept. Anyway, here goes...

I have shared experiences where CD reads my needs seamlessly. Those moments can feel almost magical and that makes me want to share them. I have occasionally heard from people who seem to think CD is nearly capable of reading my mind, as a result of posts like that. It’s not my intention to give that impression.

There are occasional moments where I am shocked at how he knows things I didn’t say. I’ve also shared that sometimes those moments where he perfectly meets my needs are often the moments where I feel the most owned. That’s because him knowing and meeting my needs feels so intensely intimate, and so much of our D/s comes down to emotional intimacy.

He isn’t a mind reader, though. We have been together over a decade now, and he’s observant. I think that deserves a big mention, when discussing how he ‘just knows’ things about me. He notices my body language, and how I react to things. He learns a lot about me by simply paying close attention. This is really important to me. Him naturally watching me, noticing my mood and such, is a big way that he makes me feel loved. I couldn’t be with someone who wasn’t naturally drawn to try to learn me, and pay close attention to me. Just him being someone who pays attention is a huge part of how I feel loved. It shows me that he wants to know as much as he can about me, and that he wants to meet my needs. More than that, his desire to want to learn my needs period, matters. There are some people who just don’t wish to get that deep with their partner, they don’t care to know their partner like the back of their had. That would be a problem, for me, because I do want that level of intimacy. Part of how I knew that CD had that desire for deeper intimacy, was how he tried to learn what he could by observing me.

At the same time, being mindful of your loved one’s body language, facial expressions and behaviors only goes so far. You can’t observe your way into knowing exactly what someone wants or needs. You just can’t. Certain things just have to be explicitly stated. While a good portion of our emotional intimacy comes from paying close attention to each other, more of it comes from our communication.

The truth is, there have been times where I’ve been frustrated that CD didn’t catch something. I’ve occasionally had the emotional reaction of almost feeling neglected because he didn’t notice something about me. And that? Is not a healthy reaction for me to have. That reaction is something I have to try to be conscious of, and I can’t allow myself to run away with those feelings. I have to recognize them and fight back against them. Because I can’t expect him to read my mind, or to pick up on everything, to ‘just know’ everything, or anything, really. If he isn’t aware of something, it is my responsibility to communicate.

We were new to D/s in particular, we talked about our needs and wants all the time, often daily. Getting started with D/s requires really thorough communication so that you know the boundaries and limits of the dynamic, and so that you know what is expected of each of you. Even though we tried to hammer out our dynamic in advance, we found ourselves experiencing scenarios that we weren’t sure how they ‘should’ be handled with our D/s, because we couldn’t pre-plan our D/s for how to go about every possible scenario that life may throw at us. So whenever we experienced something new and didn’t know how to handle it, we’d have to discuss how we wanted to handle it. Or in there cases we’d handle a situation and then realize we wished it had been handled differently, and we’d discuss that and plan to do differently next time.

After a while (many months?) it got to where we had the basics down and we didn’t need to talk about things as often anymore. We didn’t have to discuss it multiple times a week anymore, but perhaps a couple times a month was sufficient. Still, the frequency ebbs and flows. We go through phases, even now, 6 years in, of discussing our D/s more or less often. It mainly depends on whether we’re facing new things in life or making changes to our rules or the rest of our dynamic, or whether life is normal and our dynamic is unchanged. If we make changes, that means we’ll communicate about our D/s more often for a while, usually. Tons of what we know about each other and our needs are things we’ve learned through all that communication. Way more than we’ve learned by just observing each other.

Our “meta-talks” (discussions about our D/s) are perhaps one of the areas that I don’t give enough attention to on this blog. They’re often very private feeling, so it’s hard to feel comfortable sharing much about them.

A couple of months ago after a meta-talk, we came to the conclusion that it would be helpful for us to focus on making sure I feel very seen. It wasn’t that I had stopped feeling seen...but more that our current life circumstances were making me need to feel more seen than usual. Anyway, CD had me make him a list of things that made me feel seen, to share with him.

The things I shared on that list were all things he had done “naturally” before. So it was more about sharing with him what things he does that make me feel particularly seen. Still, I did over-think it, a little bit. I wondered if it would feel different for him to do these things for me after I shared them with him, rather than doing them purely instinctually, like he had in the past. Would it feel less genuine? Would I be able to absorb it and really effectively feel see if I suspected he was doing this for the purpose of making me feel seen?

Early on, I did feel a bit bashful or self-conscious when I noticed him doing those things a little bit more often. I felt a bit insecure like “Oh, he just thinks he has to do that because I need to feel more seen.” and for some reason that cheapened it a little in my mind, and also made me feel a bit selfish or something. Worrying about being a burden on people is a deep seeded insecurity of mine that comes in up all sorts of ways. So it’s not surprising that my brain tried to twist this into ‘he just feels obligated to’. Even early on when I was feeling those insecurities, I was feeling seen, at the same time. As more time went on though, those insecurities softened and I was able to recognize that these things were feeling fulfilling to him, too, which further eased my insecurities.

This is just one example of how our direct communication has benefitted our D/s. When this type of thing occurs over the course of many years, I hope you can imagine how that can assist with creating those “he just knows” moments.

I think a lot of good relationships have similar experiences with hesitating to share exactly what you want from your partner. The love is there, the good intent is there, but unless you tell your partner exactly what makes you feel the best...you can’t magically expect them to know. Yet many of us have this instinct that “I can’t tell them exactly how I’d like them to treat me, or it won’t be as ‘real’”.

I think D/s often complicates this issue even farther. Subs hesitate to ask for ‘too much’ because they don’t want to be too needy, or to feel like they’re taking charge or telling their doms what to do. Which I think is a valid concern. In my view, the answer to that potential problem isn’t to avoid sharing what make you feel good. Instead, it’s just to be mindful of the way that you are communicating, so that you are sharing the knowledge of your needs or desires without telling them what to do.

Communicating in great detail is a huge part of how we find the intimacy that we’re after with D/s. Understanding in detail what makes each other feel dominant and submissive does SO much to assist us with keeping our D/s on track, and to keep each other feeling loved and cared for. These deep, difficult, detailed discussions are also helpful to our D/s because they make me realize how safe our relationship is. That sense of security allows me to let go and be more submissive.

As I said earlier, I understand that instinct that if you tell someone exactly what you want, and then they do it, your initial instinct may be to feel like it’s less meaningful when they do it. Like asking for it somehow ‘cheapened’ it.

I think that is a largely misguided instinct, though. I think that if you tell someone what feels good to you, and they do it just to placate you or please you? You can tell they’re just phoning it in. And if you tell them what makes you feel good, and they do it because they enjoy making you feel good? You’ll feel that too.

It’s similar to how starting D/s worked for us. When I first asked for it, I worried it would be something he did just for me. But once he found meaning in it himself? I could tell that our D/s was fulfilling for him, that it was giving him joy, and that he was really feeling the connection with me through this dynamic. It was just easy to see that he was really ‘feeling it’. A similar thing can happen with "smaller” things such as specific acts of love, care or service.

#writing #sccwriting #d/s #domestic discipline

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babymetaldoll · 3 years

Text

DIWK - Chapter nine: “Fuck it, I love you”

Word count: 8,2K

Summary: (Y/N) is struggling with her feelings for Spencer, and being just her friend might be harder than she thought. Spencer feels everybody but (Y/N) knows he is in love with her, and for a second, he is sure he will lose her.

Warnings: Cursing, angst frustration, mention of S03E09 (Penelope), usual Criminal Minds content.

A/N: Hello my dearest friends! hope you are having a great week, and I hope you enjoy this chapter. All feedback is welcome!

Masterlist

┅┅┅┅┅┅┅༻❁༺┅┅┅┅┅┅┅

(Y/N)'s point of view

Since Rossi joined the team, we were as busy as we had been in a long time. We didn't have much free time, and most of the cases took us out of Virginia. But, it was our job, and we all liked it, which is why none of us complained much. No one but JJ, who still tried to keep her relationship with Will a secret.

On the bright side, all that traveling and working with the team got us even closer. Having Rossi there gave us a boost to be better at what we did and be even better friends. We had to spend a lot of time together, and by the look in David's eyes, you could tell he was surprised by how good we all got along. At least most of the time.

We were in Florida trying to find an unsub who kidnapped and mutilated women when it happened. After knowing them for over two years, Garcia and Morgan had a fight. A real fight.

- "Hey, how is it going with Father Marks? Any of the volunteers jumped out at him?"- I asked Morgan when I found him at the station after a long day trying to find a lead that might take us to the unsub or the victims.

- "Not yet"- my cellphone rang that second, and Garcia's voice at the other side of the line gave me more info on the case.

- "I'm still running the particulars of our homicides though vicap. Nothing so far."- she announced.

- "Ok. I just sent you the volunteer search list"- I walked from Morgan and sipped my coffee, feeling there was something off.

- "Ok. And I'm cross-checking the names against mental institution records."

- "Pay attention to individuals who were involuntarily committed in Florida. Rossi is convinced our unsub is the type that likes to stick close to home."

- "Got it. Talk to you later."

- "Wait, PG. You usually call Morgan about these kinds of things. Is everything ok?"- I whispered though I knew Morgan was paying a lot of attention to what I was talking about on the phone with Garcia.

- "God, I hate profilers"- she groaned at the other side of the line.

- "Come on, tell me."

- "Fine. I met this guy in the coffee shop I go to every day. His computer crashed, and I helped him fix it. He flirted, I flirted, and he asked for my number, and somehow I gave it to him 'cos he was incredibly hot and nice, and did I mention he was smoking hot? I didn't think he was going to call, but he did, which was surprising 'cos these things do not happen to me, sweet cheeks, never! But it did! And when I told Derek, he just told me I have to blow him off 'cos it's too weird."

- "What!?"- Penelope spoke so fast she didn't even breathe.

- "Yes! Just because he wouldn't hit on me doesn't mean another hot guy wouldn't! And he made me feel like I don't deserve anyone's attention."

- "I'm gonna kill him,"- I whispered and turned around. Derek wide opened his eyes and shrugged, not getting what was going on.

- "Don't. I'll take care of him when you guys come home."

- "Well, take care in the mid-time, and I'm here if you need to talk."

I hung down and sighed. Morgan looked at me, knowing I knew what happened between the two of them.

- "So?"

- "You fucked it up,"- I whispered and smacked his shoulder.

- "Is she furious?"

- "She's hurt. That's actually worse."- Derek sighed and shook his head.

- "What do I do?"

- "You mean, other than to apologize?"- I walked with him to get Hotch and tell him what Garcia had just informed us- "Think big, 'cos you really fucked it up."

- "What does Reid do when he fucks things up with you?"- Morgan asked, and I could sense the innuendo hidden in his words.

- "He doesn't do a thing, 'cos he never fucks up"- I answered with a pleased smile and turned to Hotch. It was time to catch a killer, not time to argue with Derek.

I always thought Morgan and Garcia were the greatest friends I had ever met. I could envy their relationship, especially 'cos they could be so flirtatious and so adorable, and at the same time, you knew their friendship was sacred.

I envied that. I don't think Penelope felt for Derek the way I felt about Spencer. That's why I was sure I had fucked it up. I didn't have to catch those kinds of feelings for my best friend, and I felt I had to find a way to get rid of them. I had to stop having a crush on Reid.

Those weeks had been challenging and yet amazing. It was awful knowing I had a crush on my best friend, but I was really enjoying all the time we were spending together. We had been sharing rooms for the last two cases, and that meant endless sleepovers with Spencer. After a long day, we would meet in our room and just share candies, ice cream, pizza, movies, whatever we needed to decompress.

If things had been too hard, I would lay with him on his bed and just cuddle for a while before going back to my bed. More than once, I fell asleep with him, feeling his fingers playing with my hair as he read. I always apologized the following day, but Spencer kept saying he didn't bother, that he had slept well and that I could always count on him whenever I felt bad.

Knowing I had never done that with Mikey or Frank more than a handful of times in all the years we had met each other made me feel like the shit. Sure, I could sleep in the same bed with them, but not the way I did with Spencer. This felt intimate. Serious. Real. Waking up in Spencer's arms was the best way to start my day, and each time it happened, it made me feel worst and worst 'cos I didn't want to ruin the best friendship I ever had over a silly, stupid, meaningless crush.

Each time it happened, I promised myself it would be the last one. And each time I did, I ended up falling into his arms again. It never meant anything sexual. It was just sharing a bed, cuddling. Holding each other. It was all the intimacy I always refused to share with other people. And I guess that's what freaked me out the most: how vulnerable I was with Reid and how much I enjoyed it for the very first time. Ever.

- "Hey,"- I heard Spencer whisper when we landed. I was curled up on his chest on the couch on the plane, as usual after a long case. I scratched my eyes, probably messing with my makeup, and smiled at him.

- "Sorry... you must have been awfully uncomfortable."

- "Not really. Besides, you looked like you needed a good nap,"- I chuckled and shook my head, sitting down correctly.

- "Next time I drool on your jacket, please wake me up,"- I collected all my things and took a look around- "What time is it?"

- "Almost midnight,"- he announced and stared at me as he held his go bag and put on his jacket- "Do you want to grab something to eat before you go home?"- and I nodded, thinking that was exactly what I had in mind.

But life had other plans, and this time it had nothing to do with us. We were about to get out of my car to catch a late dinner when I got a call from Hotch telling me Penelope was in the local hospital. Spencer's cell phone rang at the same time, and JJ announced the same. We looked at each other for a moment, scared of the worst, and all we managed to do was to get buckled up and drive to the hospital. We both needed to know Penelope would be ok, but all we knew was that she had been shot, and the doctors were doing all they could to save her life.

As soon as we reached the waiting area, we met Aaron and JJ. They looked as worried as we were.

- "She's in surgery,"- JJ announced, and I hugged her immediately- "There's no word."

- "This is crazy,"- Spencer whispered as I felt JJ's arms tighten around me.

- "I can't believe it! I talked to her before we took off."- I murmured and closed my eyes.

- "What do we know?"- Rossi asked, walking over in a hurry with Prentiss.

- "Police think it's a botched robbery,"- Aaron explained.

- "Where's Morgan?"- Emily asked, looking around the hall.

- "He's not answering his cell,"- JJ replied, and Spencer took his phone right away.

- "I'll call him again."

I looked at him as he walked away and turned to my friends. Emily and JJ were doing their best to stay strong, but it was clear they were fighting the tears back, just as badly as I was doing.

Spencer walked back and shook his head. He couldn't reach Morgan. I walked to him and rested my head on his chest, and he wrapped his arms around me, holding me close to him. It was unreal. I felt I was in a nightmare, and I couldn't wake up, no matter how much I tried.

- "They can't give me an update,"- JJ walked over to us after half an hour. She had been trying to get more info about Penelope's condition, but nothing.

- "Morgan's phone just keeps going straight to voicemail,"- Spencer added, and Prentiss's angry voice nearly made me jump.

- "Where the hell is he?!"

Nearly two hours later, Spencer finally contacted Derek, and in less than half an hour, he rushed into the hospital and found us still waiting for news about Penelope. He ran over, shocked and confused, and looked at us, waiting for an explanation.

- "She's been in surgery a couple of hours."- JJ whispered as soon as he stood by our side.

- "I was at church. My phone was off,"- he explained and mostly tried to excuse himself for not being there earlier.

- "There is nothing you could have been doing here,"- Reid whispered, trying to make him feel better. Spoiler: it didn't work. Morgan was getting more and more hyperventilated with every second he spent in that hospital.

- "The police got any leads?"

- "I spoke to the lead detective. He doesn't think we'll get anything from the scene."

Hotch spoke in the calmest voice he had. Morgan was about to say something but bit his tongue. Instead of yelling, he walked around the hall for a few minutes until a doctor approached us.

- "Penelope Garcia?"- and we all nearly yelled "Yes" as a desperate reply.

- "The bullet went into her chest and ricocheted into her abdomen. She lost a lot of blood. It was touch-and-go for a while, but we were able to repair the injuries."

- "So what are you saying?"- JJ questioned as we all held our breath.

- "One centimeter over, and it would have torn right through her heart. Instead, she could actually walk out of here in a couple of days. And I'd say that's a minor miracle."

The way we all sighed, relieved at those words, was priceless and unbeatable. The doctor smiled at us and added.

- "She needs her rest. You can see her in the morning."

- "Thank you,"- I smiled at him, and he was gone. I turned around and looked at Reid. He cut me a short smile as Hotch's voice caught our attention.

- "David and I will go to the scene. I think the rest of you should be here when she wakes up. I don't care about protocol. I don't care whether we're working this officially or not. We don't touch any new cases until we find out who did this."

We all nodded right away. No one had other plans. And after those words, Hotch and Rossi were out of the hospital, and we were left waiting for Penelope to come back from surgery.

- "How are you?"- Reid whispered and handed me a new cup of coffee.

- "Scared. You?"

- "Me too"

- "Who could ever want to hurt Penny? She is adorable,"- I murmured and shook my head.

- "We are gonna find whoever did this"- Spencer held my hand and cut me the warmest smile. I nodded and looked at Derek, who stood up from his chair for the hundredth time and walked to Penelope's room to see if she was ok.

- "In case we ever fight, I want you to know I will always forgive you,"- I murmured in Spencer's ear and rested my head on his shoulder.

- "Should I be worried?"- he asked me, and I just shook my head.

- "I just wanted you to know that you will always be my best friend, Spencer Walter Reid. No matter what happens between us."

And I meant every word back then. I had no idea what was coming ahead and how much things would change within a few months.

Spencer's point of view

The attack against Penelope hit us all hard. She had been shot by the same man who had invited her out for dinner. The one she and Derek had had a fight about.

Of course, Morgan was the one who was more affected by the whole situation. I tried to comfort him, and he nearly killed me. I knew Derek didn't mean to be mean. He was just losing it and feeling overwhelmingly guilty about everything going on. He was in hell, and you could tell. I didn't want to think what it would be like to be in his place. If anything ever happened to (Y/N) and I wasn't there to help her, I would go crazy. So I understood how Derek felt and did my best to be supportive.

Those days also made it pretty evident Rossi was still shocked we were such close friends and team members at the same time. I know he was friends with Gideon, but the fact our friendship surprised him so much made me wonder how close they really were.

It didn't get better when we were all asked to stop working on the case after Hotch found an encrypted file in Garcia's system, and she ended up suspended. That's who we found out how the FBI had recruited her.

Morgan and I were at the hospital with Penelope when Hotch gave her the news and heard the story of her hackers days. Something that I bet she didn't really want us to know about her.

- "After my parents died, I... kind of went off the rails for a while. I dropped out of Cal Tech. I lived underground, basically. But I kept teaching myself code. It was like the one thing that kept me together. In the way, the bureau decided to keep an eye on me, I guess... Did you know they keep track of hackers?"

Neither Morgan nor I opened our mouths. We couldn't, 'cos we were processing the whole information.

- "They do, of the ones who have the skill to be either extremely useful or a potential menace."

- "So they offered you a job?"- I asked her, and she simply nodded- "Like Frank Abagnale. The bureau figured if you can't beat 'em, hire 'em."

- "Yeah. Something like that."

- "Garcia, what's on the encrypted file?"- Derek crossed his arms on his chest and stared at her, waiting to hear nothing but the truth.

- "I'm required to keep a record of everything the team does. And after my system got hacked and Elle got shot, I just didn't want anyone else to be able to get at you."

- "We'll talk to the doctor, see if he'll clear you to leave,"- I whispered and left the room, just in time to get JJ's call to announce we were officially off the case. It wasn't good, and it wasn't getting any better at all.

In a way, the fact we were all such good friends wasn't as beneficial to the case as it could be. It all came clear later that night. Penelope was attacked again, this time in her own house. Unfortunately, a cop was killed in the process, and if it weren't for Morgan, who insisted on crashing her couch that night, Penelope would have been dead too.

We were all at her house at three in the morning. We wanted to take her to the BAU and keep her safe, though we all knew it would be hard to explain to the authorities, all things considered. We were all just talking about what had just happened when Garcia started remembering more details about her date with her attacker, and we decided to ask more questions about it in case she could give us more info that might lead us to him.

- "Tell us about the car,"- I told her and sat in front of her.

- "Why?"

- "Just go with him"- Morgan smiled at her and nodded, trying to reassure her everything was ok. It wasn't, not even close.

- "You said it was white, 4-door, American. What else?"- I asked Penelope, but she shook her head, confused.

- "That's it. It was just a car."

- "No, come on, think. Anything. Go back."- Morgan held her hand. We could tell she was trying her best to cooperate, and he was making his best effort to be sweet and calm, considering he was losing it to catch the asshole who hurt her.

- "The seat belt was buckled behind his back. Why does that matter?"- and that was progress.

- "It wasn't a rental. It was for surveillance,"- Derek explained to her.

- "Agents don't wear seat belts. They need to get out in a hurry"- (Y/N) added and was about to add something else when Rossi walked across the room and sat in front of Penelope.

- "All right, let's cut the crap. You need to be straight with us. Right now!"- she wide opened her eyes in shock and turned to Morgan- "Look at me, not them!"- Rossi commanded.

- "I'm not hiding anything,"- Garcia whispered, astonished.

- "You got shot. Most people get shot for a reason,"- she tried to look at Derek again- "Eyes here!"

- "Ease up, Rossi!"- Morgan shouted when David raised his voice, scaring everybody in that room.

- "You got a roomful of people here willing to believe that an FBI agent has tried to kill you. We need to know everything you do on company time that we don't know about!"

Rossi yelled on her face, pushing her to tell the truth, and Garcia nearly started crying.

- "What?"

- "Come on, man!"- I guess we were all waiting for Derek to lose it and punch him.

- "It's nothing bad!"- Penelope yelled, and every eye in the room turned to her.

- "Spit it out!"- David pushed her again.

- "It's... I counsel victims' families, and they know where I work, so sometimes they ask me to look into cases for them."

- "What does that mean?"- Rossi frowned and kept his eyes on hers.

- "It just means that the cases, the unsolved ones, I tag them, so whoever's investigating them knows that the FBI considers them a priority."

- "You're not authorized to do that"- Hotch's voice was as severe as kind, which surprised us all. Rossi the most, I guess, 'cos he stood up and turned around.

- "I know. I was just trying to help."- Garcia whispered, fighting the tears back.

- "But whoever's working those cases thinks you're watching them,"- (Y/N) said in a softer voice, probably to explain to Garcia how the whole situation had ended up with her being shot.

- "I just wanted to put pressure on them so that they don't slide,"- Penelope excused herself.

- "How many cases are we talking about?"- Hotch asked.

- "I don't know. 7, 8 maybe. I need to get into my system."

- "You can't. You're suspended,"- Hotch reminded her, though it sounded more like "you are grounded."

- "Wait a minute,"- Morgan interrupted the conversation- "Garcia, on your date, you said this guy was pressing you to find out if you were working murder cases. Hotch, we gotta look at those files."

Hotch looked at David, who was still as pissed as earlier. I don't think neither of us had ever seen him acting like it.

- "I told you, I'm sick of this jagoff being in front of us,"- Rossi said to him, and Aaron nodded.

- "Dave's right. We'll go back to the BAU. Morgan, Reid, (Y/N), Prentiss, you stay here and make sure no one forgets to log out of the system. Garcia should not have access."

We all stayed in her living room as Garcia walked to her room and hacked her own system. At the other side of the screen, Kevin Lynch, the analyst of another FBI department, was fighting back, trying to protect the files, and losing the fight after a few minutes.

Later on, (Y/N) explained to me that was how they met and finally how they fell in love. I guess everything happens for a reason, after all.

We didn't catch the bad guy that day. Instead, JJ was forced to kill him. It was the very first time she shot anyone, and surprisingly, she wasn't as shook up as we all imagined she might be.

- "You do whatever it takes to protect your family,"- she said when Penelope asked her if she was ok.

And she was right. That's how we all felt for each other at that point. And somehow, we all knew we were going to prove it, sooner or later.

(Y/N)'s point of view

I had been part of the BAU for almost three years already when it happened. And I felt so stupid 'cos we had all had a rough couple of weeks, and the last thing anyone needed was another worry. We had just gotten over the whole Penelope issue; having another member of the team injured was the worst thing that could happen.

But it did.

I got shot.

We were after our unsub. George Flemming. The bastard had killed four women in less than a month, convinced God had sent him to Earth to get rid of sin. We had been after him for two whole weeks until we finally got him. But I was stupid and reckless and didn't wait for backups. I wanted to catch that mother fucker, 'cos the way he had killed those women made me madder than I had ever been with an unsub before. That's too dangerous. You can't lose yourself in a case, 'cos you lose your objectivity. You risk your life every day in this job, but that specific day, I put mine on a silver platter.

We were supposed to wait for backup. I was just checking the perimeter, searching for the unsub. Spencer was with me, but he stayed behind for a second, trying to contact Garcia to run the plate number of a car we found hidden in a barn. I should have waited for him, but I couldn't stay still and do nothing when I heard a woman screaming for help. I had to run and try to save her. I wasn't going to let George kill yet another innocent woman and get away with it. He had to pay.

- "FBI! Freeze!"- I shouted as I walked into the last room of the house and found George holding close and pointing a gun at a woman who was covered in blood and bruises but still very much alive. Which, I must say, was a relief.

- "Stay away!! I'll shoot her!! I swear I'm gonna shoot her!!"

The unsub was sweating cold; he looked sick and weak. He looked like I could definitely take him down in a fight.

- "George! Put down the gun!"- I commanded and didn't move my eyes from him.

- "You put your gun down!"

- "I am sorry, George, but I can't do that!"- I answered- "Now let her go and put the gun down before anyone else gets hurt."

- "I don't have to listen to a whore like you! Who do you think you are? Giving me commands? You are evil!! Evil!"- he shouted, clearly losing control.

- "(Y/N), where the hell are you?!"- I heard Reid asking in the earpiece, and I just shook my head.

- "That's all you've got, George? Hiding women in the back of your house and threatening them with your gun? That makes your God proud?"

- "Shut up!! You bring disgrace to Earth! You should be punished too!!"- I took a step closer slowly and shook my head.

- "You are going to be punished, George. For killing innocent women."

- "Innocent? What makes you think they didn't deserve it?"

- "What makes you think you are the one to judge them?"

I kept my gun pointed at him, but I couldn't take a shot 'cos he grabbed the victim and kept her close to him, like a shield.

- "There's a special place in hell for whores like you!"- he announced, and suddenly, all I could feel was pain. There was a second gunshot, and George was down. I took a look around and saw Morgan still pointing his gun at him from outside the room, as Spencer and Prentiss ran inside, and he moved to me and held me close.

- "Medic!! We need a medic!!"- Reid yelled frantically through the speaker- "(Y/N)! How do you feel?"

- "I'm ok, honey bunny,"- I whispered in the most excruciating pain I had ever felt in my entire life- He just shot my shoulder, nothing important.

But the way Spencer looked at me, I swear that no one has ever looked at me the same until this day.

- "Don't move!"- he commanded, though his voice was soft and gentle. Prentiss took care of checking George's body. He was clearly dead. She liberated his last hostage and helped her to the ambulance while Reid stayed by my side until a doctor appeared.

- "Why didn't you wait for me?"- Spencer asked as they took me to the ambulance.

- "She needed help"- that was all I could say.

- "Please, try not to talk,"- the paramedic commanded and got me into the ambulance, followed closely by Reid.

- "I'm coming with her."

My best friend wasn't asking for permission. He was informing the medical team he wasn't going anywhere else. And by the tone of his voice, it was clear no one was ever going to change his mind.

- "That was so stupid, chipmunk,"- Spencer whispered and held my hand in our way to the nearest hospital. The paramedics kept pressing my shoulder to stop the bleeding, and I just closed my eyes 'cos honestly, it hurt too much to process what was going on.

- "I am so sorry I wasn't there with you, chipmunk."

- "It's ok, honey,"- I mumbled- "You are right. I was stupid. This is my fault."

- "Please, don't talk,"- the paramedic commanded again, and I just shut up 'cos the pain was too much.

Spencer stayed by my side the whole time. After we reached the hospital, the paramedics took me to the ER, where a doctor cleaned my wound and took out the bullet from my shoulder.

It was a clean wound, and luckily, no arteries were hit. I just got some stitches and a sling, plus a few painkillers I really didn't want to take, 'cos after Spencer's experience with drugs, I was scared of painkillers.

- "Thank you,"- I whispered to the nurse who helped me get dressed and walked out of the room to find Spencer filling up the medical forms and Morgan and Prentiss waiting for me

- "How are you feeling, princess?"- Derek asked and caressed my cheek.

- "Like a virgin"- I sang the Madonna song- "Shot for the very first time"- and though Emily chuckled, Spencer didn't think it was funny.

- "I can't believe you think this is something to joke about!"- Reid frowned, upset.

- "Calm down, honey. I'm ok, I'm alive. It was just a shot on the shoulder."

- "Just? Just a shot in the shoulder?"- and Spencer freaked out- "Did you know some of the larger vessels of the human body run through the shoulder? The subclavian artery and vein, which by the way, are the basic blood supply to the upper extremity."

- "I'm sorry, honey bunny. I shouldn't have said that."- I whispered and tried to calm him down, 'cos I knew precisely the kind of man Spencer could be when he was mad and stressed.

- "The brachial plexus is also located in the shoulder, and it's the primary nerve supply to the upper extremity as well,"- he added and didn't take his eyes from the form he was filling.

- "I understand,"- I added, but he didn't stop.

- "You should also know that the shoulder is a very complex spheroid joint, and if it's injured, it can lead to lifelong disability."

I stood in front of Spencer and placed my movable hand on his chest. That forced him to stop writing and look at me.

- "I'm sorry I got hurt. It was a mistake. I didn't mean to make you mad at me or worry. I am ok, I am here, and I promise I won't do something as stupid and reckless as this ever again. Ok?"

Spencer looked at me and sighed. Morgan and Prentiss were still there by our side, and I had the feeling that stopped my friend from saying what was in his mind. Instead, he nodded and cut me a short smile.

- "Good. Can we go home now?"- I asked, and Morgan grabbed my bag immediately.

- "The jet is waiting, pretty girl. Let's go."

The flight back home was too long. It was only a four hours flight from Fargo to Quantico. But it felt eternal. Besides, I kept doing my best to act cool and in zero pain, in a poor attempt not to worry Spencer. Little did I know, no matter what, he would be worried sick anyway.

- "I was on the phone with Frank,"- he announced and sat in front of me with a cup of hot chocolate.

- "Please don't tell me you called to tell him I got shot,"- Spencer stared at me and cut me a short smile. I closed my eyes and groaned- "Did he go nuts?"

- "No, I started by telling him you were alright."

- "Thank you,"- I whispered and sipped the cup he had prepared for me just the way I liked it, even with the little marshmallows.

- "Your mom went bonkers, though."

- "You called my mom?!"- I shouted, and everybody in the team turned around and looked at us- "Why did you do that?"- Spencer looked at me surprised and frowned.

- "You just got shot, chipmunk. Of course, I'm gonna tell your mom!"

- "But she is going to overreact!"

- "She won't! We already talked. She said she'd stop tomorrow by your apartment to have lunch."

- "Tomorrow, I'll be at work for lunch,"- I frowned, and I swear I wanted to cross my arms on my chest, but I couldn't, 'cos... I have been shot.

- "You won't be back to work until next week,"- Aaron announced from his seat, overhearing the conversation.

- "But Hotch! I'm ok!"

- "Spencer is correct. You just got shot. Take the rest of the week,"- I groaned and frowned at my boss.

- "I can still do my paperwork."- I can't believe I was begging not to get days off from work.

- "You do realize most people don't argue when their bosses give them a few days off, right princess?"- Derek took off his headphones and asked, frowning.

- "But I'm not injured,"- I argued, but I knew I was losing that fight.

- "Chipmunk, may I remind you, you just got shot!"- Spencer looked at me, annoyed.

- "But I'm fine! Look at me! I can dance!"- I was about to stand up and do a little dance, but Reid stopped me. He literally grabbed my good arm and kept me on my seat.

- "It's Wednesday. You just have to stay home Thursday and Friday. And I'll be there, making sure you won't do anything stupid."

I looked at Spencer and groaned one more time.

- "There's no way out of this, (Y/N). You are hurt, and I'm gonna take care of you."

- "Will you cook?"- I whispered and pouted, defeated. And Spencer chuckled, blushing.

- "I will definitely call and ask for your favorite food"- I tried not to smile and shook my head.

- "Oh no, no. If you wanna take the lead and take care of me, you will have to do the whole job and cook, Spencer Walter Reid."- I teased him, and his cheeks turned blood red in less than a minute.

- "Fine,"- he whispered, narrowing his eyes.

- "I can give you my carbonara a la Rossi recipe,"- David said to Spencer from his seat- "Guaranteed to heal all wounds, and special to cheer up your girlfriend, kid."

Everybody stayed quiet at the same time. I wide opened my eyes, shocked, and looked at Spencer, whose cheeks were burning red.

- "She... (Y/N) is not my girlfriend,"- Spencer mumbled and avoided looking at me for a few seconds. Rossi chuckled and turned to us.

- "You call each other cute nicknames, you are always together, you argue like I did with my first wife..."

- "No"- I shook my head and did my best to ignore Derek's teasing comments and Emily's laughter.

- "Well, you could have fooled me,"- David smiled at me, and I didn't know what to answer. I frowned and looked at Spencer, who somehow was even more blushed than he had been a moment earlier.

- "I'm driving you, by the way,"- he whispered, and I didn't really have the strength to argue against that, so I just nodded and sighed.

Spencer's point of view

I thought I was going to die when I saw (Y/N) lying on the floor, blood coming from her shoulder. Time passed in slow motion, like a movie cliché. I ran to her, and I didn't know if the perimeter had been secured. I had no idea if the unsub was dead. I would have killed him myself if I hadn't been focused on (Y/N).

Then she smiled and assured me she was ok. But that wasn't enough for me. Her face was so pale, though her smile was shining bright. So I held her and called a medic. She was in pain, and I didn't know what to do to help her.

I held her hand the whole ride to the hospital and stayed by her side in the ER while the doctor cleaned her wound and put some stitches on it. Then I walked with her to the jet, and the whole time I made my best and biggest effort to stay calm. But once we were on the air, on our way back home, I couldn't hold it back anymore. I could feel the tears fighting their way out, no matter how much I tried to keep them inside.

So I did what seemed more logical and locked myself in the backroom. I needed a minute to put myself together again before I had to continue pretending I didn't nearly lose the woman I love that day. So I washed my face and let the water run through my fingers for a few minutes, trying to calm myself down. But I failed, and the tears started falling down my cheeks anyway.

I rested my back against the door and slowly slipped down to the floor until I was sitting, hugging my legs, crying my heart out.

I knew why I was crying. It was a weird mix of fear and relief. I was scared to lose (Y/N), and at the same time, relieved nothing terrible had happened to her. I had to convince myself it was all ok, that she was there on the plane with me, hopefully trying to get some rest.

- "Spence?"- I heard JJ's voice at the other side of the door, and I quickly stood up and washed my face saying, "In a minute." I looked at my reflex. My eyes were puffed, my cheeks were red. There was no way I could ever convince anyone I hadn't been crying.

- "Can you open the door?"

- "There's another bathroom, JJ,"- I said and closed my eyes.

- "I need to talk to you."

- "I'm kind of busy here..."

- "Spence, please"- she begged, and I gave up, only because I knew she wasn't going to leave me alone. No one at the BAU seems to understand the concept of personal space.

I opened the door and let her in. The bathroom was too small for the two of us, and I didn't want to think of all the teasing I would get from Morgan if he saw us locked in there. JJ smiled and handed me a cup of coffee. I just sipped it carefully, 'cos it was very hot, and looked at my hands, avoiding eye contact.

- "Why were you crying?"- she whispered and stood against the wall in front of me.

- "I wasn't,"- I lied, but she just raised an eyebrow, and I knew it was useless to deny it- "It was a hard day, and I needed to decompress somehow."

- "Was it because of (Y/N)?"- she simply asked, and I just nodded- "It wasn't your fault, Spence."

- "I should have been there. But I stayed behind, on the phone with Garcia checking the plate of a car that didn't even matter at the end."

- "You were doing your job, and so was she."

- "But I should have done my job better, 'cos something bad might have happened to her, and I would have never forgiven myself,"- JJ nodded and reached out for one of my hands. I tried not to look at her but failed.

- "Are you going to tell her how you feel?"

- "Telling her I feel guilty she got injured won't stop her from being reckless,"- but JJ shook her head.

- "No, Spence. I'm talking about you telling her you are in love with her."

I widened my eyes and stayed still, shocked, blushed. JJ cut me a short smile and probably tried to soothe me, 'cos I immediately got all defensive.

- "What... what are you talking about? I am not in love with (Y/N),"- I whispered and prayed no one outside that bathroom had heard her.

- "Spencer, there is nothing wrong with being in love. I actually think you two would make a cute couple."

- "No, JJ, no. I am not in love with her."

- "Spence, I'm not a profiler, but you are not that hard to read. I can see the way you look at her."

- "She is my best friend."

- "But you love her,"- JJ sentenced, and I just sighed- "It's not wrong to have feelings for someone, Spence. I am sure she feels the same way too."

- "We are just friends. That's it. Thanks for the coffee,"- I added and opened the door.

I walked out of the bathroom in a rush. To avoid talking with anyone on the plane, I called Frank and told him what had happened. I also asked him for Mrs. (Y/L/N) phone number and explained the facts too. She was so scared it took me a while to calm her down.

- "I'm going to stay with her tonight,"- I said and looked at (Y/N) at the other side of the yet. She hadn't slept at all, and I knew she had to rest.

- "Thank you, Spencer. I'll be in Virginia tomorrow. I'm visiting Phoenix in New York this week."

- "Don't worry, Mrs. (Y/L/N), I'll take care of her."

- "You are the sweetest man she could have met,"- she whispered before hanging down, and I couldn't help but wonder if she knew it too.

Apparently, I wasn't hiding my feelings for (Y/N) very well. If JJ could see it, maybe anyone else could. And after what Rossi said, I didn't know if I was busted or not. I didn't know anything. (Y/N) seemed to be as shocked as I pretended to be, so I guess I felt safe. But I knew I had to watch my back now.

Of course, planning to stay with her that night didn't make it easier for me at all.

- "I'm ok, honey bunny,"- she argued and sat carefully on her couch- "You don't have to stay here with me."

- "I'm sorry, chipmunk, but you were shot. There is nothing on Earth that's gonna make me leave you alone right now."

- "Fine, then help me take a shower,"- she simply said, and I widened my eyes. I know I even held my breath at that. I stared at her from the kitchen door, on my way to make her a cup of tea.

- "Well, in that case, I, I will do... I will do whatever you need to help you,"- I whispered and made my best not to stutter. She shook her head and sighed.

- "I was bluffing, honey. But I mean it, you don't have to stay and take care of me. I'll be fine. Just go home and rest,"- but all I could do was walk to the kitchen and put on the kettle.

- "I'm not going anywhere, so... how do you feel about that carbonara a la Rossi recipe?"

- "Spencer Walter Reid, you don't cook."

- "I do cook! Do you think I've lived on take-outs and coffee all these years?"

- "Hell yeah!"- she said and chuckled. She was right, though. I wasn't the best or more experienced cooker on Earth. But for her, I could try.

- "I tell you what. What if you take a bath and relax, I'll cook you dinner, and then we'll watch a movie? Anything you pick."

- "Anything?"- she raised an eyebrow and stared at me so sweetly and concentrated, I nearly stopped breathing. I didn't trust myself with an answer, so I just nodded and looked at her. Her cheeks were blushing, and that made me feel better. Clearly, she was relaxing at home. The color was coming back to her after being hurt. That was always a good sign.

- "Even my favorite chick flick?"- (Y/N) bit her lips and caught my full attention with that simple movement. I nodded again, not really thinking what she meant with "chick flicks." All I could think of were her lips and how incredibly soft they looked.

- "Even Pride and Prejudice?"- she added, and I nodded again.

- "It's an essential piece of literature. Jane Austen was an incredible writer,"- my voice was muffled, and her eyes were shining- "Did you know In 1802, in her late 20s, Austen briefly accepted a proposal from Harris Bigg-Wither, the younger brother of two of her close friends? She rescinded it the following day."

- "Yes, neither her nor her sister ever married"- (Y/N) added, and her eyes moved from mine, traveling around the room- "She believed that a woman shouldn't get married if she wasn't in love. She once advised her niece Fanny Knight that "anything is to be preferred or endured rather than marrying without affection."

Somehow, (Y/N)'s eyes were blurry with sadness all of a sudden. Her words stopped. I was tempted to hold her hands that rested on her lap but stopped myself. I was scared to give too much away, and that she suspected how I felt about her. I didn't want her thinking I was in love with her. Don't get me wrong, I was. I am. And I know I will always love her. But that night on that couch, I was afraid of her rejection and scared she might have stopped being my friend if she ever knew how I really felt about her.

- "Maybe you are right, honey,"- (Y/N) whispered and slowly stood up- "I'll take that bath after all."

- "Watch those stitches"- I quickly stood up too and just nodded, looking at her as she started walking towards her room- "I'll cook dinner meanwhile."

- "Thank you, honey bunny,"- she said and turned around just to cut me a small smile before disappearing into her bedroom.

I made my best effort with dinner. I followed Rossi's instructions to the letter. (Y/N) had a lot of food in her fridge. Unlike me, she actually cooked her own meals. She was right about me and the take-outs. I had never been a great cook, and I trusted my local Thai place with most of my dinners. But that night was different.

Pasta carbonara was pretty good, I must say. (Y/N) opened a bottle of wine, though I told her it was a horrible idea mixing drinking with the pain killers she was prescribed.

- "I am actually not taking them,"- she whispered and took a sip of red.

- "You had a major injure on that shoulder (Y/N)."

- "It's just five stitches, honey. I don't need those pills. I actually didn't even get them,"- she replied. I looked at her in awe, thinking she was way stronger than she even gave herself credit for.

- "In that case, you can have two glasses of wine and extra dessert,"- I stated, and she chuckled.

We ate in silence, but it wasn't uncomfortable. I guess the two of us were pretty tired that night. It had been a long day, a long case, and though neither of us wanted to deal with it, we knew things could have easily gone wrong.

After eating, I cleaned the dishes and prepared a tray with a cup of herbal tea for (Y/N), a coffee for me, and two bowls of ice cream, and we cuddled on the couch to watch Pride and Prejudice. She whispered most of the lines and argued against Darcy for half of the movie. But by the end, she snuggled closer to me, and I wrapped an arm around her carefully, trying not to get near her shoulder at all. Her head was resting on my chest, and I could feel her sighing with each word that Darcy spoke.

- "What is it with you and this book?"- I asked her suddenly. She huffed and looked at me with a cut, short smile.

- "I don't know, but I've been obsessing with Darcy and Lizy ever since I first read the story. I guess the classic "fools in love" story is my weakness. How couldn't they see how much they loved each other from day one?"

My mouth fell open, but I didn't say a word. She just smiled and turned to the screen again. That was good. I didn't want her to see how flustered I was.

- "Darcy knew he loved her, but he tried to fall out of love with her, and she was completely blinded by her so-called "hate" towards him to deal with her real feelings."- (Y/N) added- "I know that's not a complex and complete study of the story but in a short version of the whole plot... I guess that's what's so endearing and addictive about it. Everyone has been Darcy or Lizzy."

- "I doubt most people can relate with having four sisters and an obsessive nervous mother who keeps forcing you to get married,"- I joked, and (Y/N) giggled.

- "You'd be surprised, honey,"- she sighed and snuggled closer. My hand played with her hair for a few more minutes until the end of the movie.

- "(Y/N)?"- I whispered when we were already in bed. I wore the pajamas I kept in my go bag and crawled into bed with her as soon as she asked me to sleep with her. Ee had done it before, it wasn't weird, and we were best friends.

There was absolutely nothing friendly with how I felt, though. But I had to put all those feelings in a box and hide them deep inside of me 'cos they were no good for our relationship.

- "What happens, Spencer?"

- "I just wanted to tell you... you scared me today,"- she sighed. We were already hugged, but she snuggled closer and kissed my cheek softly.

- "I'm sorry, Spencer. I'll be more careful, I promise."

It was such a simple promise, and I knew though she meant well, the job was always going to get in the way. Our lives were always on the line working at the BAU. And no matter how much we wanted to take care of ourselves, sometimes things were out of our control.

- "Promise me you'll be careful too,"- she whispered, and I leaned over to kiss the top of her head gently.

- "I promise I'll be careful, chipmunk."

- "Will you always come home to me?"- she whispered and sighed, dozing off.

- "Always. I love you so much, (Y/N)"- that last confession fell from my lips before I could even realize what I was saying.

- "I love you too, honey,"- she answered, her voice muffled against my chest.

I stayed still, trying to burn in my memory every second of that moment, 'cos I knew it was going to be one of my most precious memories until my last day.

–

DIWK Taglist:

@all-tings-diego @big-galaxy-chaos @muffin-cup @shilohpug @eternalharry @tvandfanfic

Spencer taglist

@calm-and-doctor

General Taglist

@spenxerslut @ash19871962 @babebenhardy @meowiemari @archer561

–

Do you want to be on the taglist or ramble about this chapter with me? Just send me a message here.

Next update: June 9th, 2021

#Spencer Reid #Criminal Minds #Spencer Reid fanfic #spencer x reader #Criminal Minds Fanfic #Matthew Gray Gubler #Babymetaldoll writes #fluff #angst #Spencer reid fanfiction #DIWK #Series #Criminal Minds rewrite #Derek Morgan #Penelope Garcia #Aaron Hotchner #David Rossi #jeniffer jareau

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trumpkinhotboy · 3 years

Text

All in good time

Pairing: Jacob Black x f!reader

Type: Not requested

Genre: Kinda fluffy i'd say

Warnings: None!

Rating: g

Requests: Open (for Narnia and Twilight, maybe?😳)

A/n: Alright, alright, I know I said this blog was going to be centralized on Narnia stuff, but lately I've really gotten back in my Twilight phase🥴 Plus, I had a really shitty week and needed a pick me up. Jacob is one of my biggest comfort characters so I felt it was only suiting. I hope you'll enjoy it😬 I suggest reading this while listening to any kind of Twilight ambiance playlist.☺Also, I know my title sucks HAHA. Couldn't think of anything better so yea, I'm sorry, but this is what you get

Update: changed my title huhu!

* gif is not mine!!

There were days that just deeply and inherently... sucked. Days where everything seemed out of rhythm, where no matter how hard you tried, it all seemed wrong; it all fell apart.

Today was one of those days. When your dad jokingly said: "Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed." you did not think it the tiniest of bit funny. When you opened one of the kitchen cabinets to get your favorite brand of cereals and found an empty box, you almost threw a full-on seven-year-old crying on the floor tantrum. Especially when you saw the half-emptied bowl sitting in the sink. Too bad, no breakfast for you this morning. Ridiculous, immature, and not changing anything? Yes, of course, but you still did it out of pure spite. As if that would punish anyone else than you.

Like any other day in Forks, it was raining, nothing awful here, if it was not for the fact that the window on the driver’s side hadn’t been properly closed. Your seat was by now totally drenched. With your pants completely soaked you rode to school, your knuckles turning white from angrily gripping the wheel. Once you arrived, it seemed that everyone was annoyingly happy and enthusiastic while you just couldn’t get out of your personal, unchangeable, black cloud. Not to help, your friends only kept making fun of your moody behavior. Could you not be taken seriously on one of your worst days?

In your least favorite class, you were horrified to see written in big letters on the board:

“20% exam!! Leave your personal effects in front of the class.”

You would have run away if it wasn’t for the flow of students coming in to push you further in the classroom. Convinced the exam was for the next week, you did not even open the pages of your manual concerning the subject. It is with panic and exasperation that you sat at your desk waiting for your doom. Did you need to add that along with all that bull crap of a day, the only person who could have made your day a little less annoying was, once again missing. No calls, no texts, no news, nothing. Probably on another mission with the rest of his mutant gang. You got to the Rez after school, hoping you would see him, but were only welcomed by Leah and Seth. It almost felt like they were waiting for you as they were sitting outside of Billy’s house. Why they were the only ones left here was a mystery for you. The pack usually always stayed together.

- “Where are the others?”

- “On some kind of mission around the lands.”

- “Is everything alright?” They nodded nonchalantly. “Then why are you two here?”

The answer Seth gave you while chewing loudly on yet, another snack, made you grith your teeth so hard he thought they were going to fall out of your mouth.

- “To protect you.”

- “I thought it was nothing, so why would I need protection?”.

- “You should talk about it with Black. He’s the one who ordered us to stay to watch over you or something.”

- “I am PERFECTLY capable of WATCHING OVER MYSELF.” you answered a little louder than expected, anger rumbling in your chest. That earned you some awkward looks from your two friends, but at this point, it didn’t even matter, you were seeing red.

Leah, never intimated by you, shrugged her shoulders. Seth looking a little bit more nervous still laughed at your display of anger. Jacob was the one assigning babysitters over you? Of course, you and he would have a little discussion, that mutt would not see it coming.

When you got back home, you called your father to warn him; there was no way you would be cooking dinner. With your luck, it wouldn’t be a surprise if you burnt the whole house down. Fortunately, he was in good mood (unfair) and answered there was no problem; he would get pizza. He got home with the box in hand and a “Hey sweet...heart”. One quick look at your rough appearance and frustrated expression and his mouth closed shut. He dropped politely, almost carefully, a plate with a slice of pizza before quickly leaving for the couch. You mostly played with the food, incapable of swallowing it down, looking at the forest many times, waiting, expecting to see a tall figure appear on its verge but nothing. Time passed, still no sign of life. There was no way that by now Leah or Seth didn’t give him your message. You had time to wash the dishes, do some homework, and get in your sweats. At 7:30 pm you gave up; he wasn’t coming. Your father was still watching TV, completely oblivious to your growing anger. You picked up his plate to put it in the sink but tripped and dropped it, the delicate plate exploded into a thousand pieces.

- “Y/n? Everything okay?”

- “Y..ea.. an accident. I’ll pick it up.”

There was a slight tremolo in your voice. That was it. Your day had been terrible with no sign of sun, and this broken plate would be your breaking point as ridiculous as it sounded. You leaned on the counter, head hanging low, feeling tears of frustration swelling up in your eyes. Taking a deep breath, you looked up; in a second you were out the back door.

- “Where you going?” you heard your father ask.

- “Getting the trash out.”

The figure backed in the woods as you rushed into them without hesitation. You smacked against something big and warm, warmer than it was normal to be, yet you had become quite accustomed to it.

- “You little piece of shit.” your index finger digging in his chest. “You weren’t even here today, and it was terrible, and you can’t do this. I do not need any PROTECTION. Oh my god, do you really think I am weak and helpless without you or Leah or Seth or ANY werewolf to protect me?!”

He didn’t interrupt your monologue, only looking at you spitting your anger out.

- “You are SO annoying. Honestly who- who do you think you- are?! I’m- I am not, I can DEFINITELY, I don’t ne-eed any-one.” Your speech was becoming less and less coherent, your emotions taking control of your mind.

Without waiting any longer for you to finish your incoherent thought, he pulled you in for one of his signature bear hugs.

- “You can’t do this to me I’m an-ang-angry...”.

- “Shhh, it’s okay.”

- “You-you weren’t there.” you gave up fighting him, wrapping your arms around his waist.

- “I’m sorry, Leah told me.”

- “Wh- why didn’t you come sooner?” you continued, sobbing.

- “Some wolf things, Paul got in trouble.“ you backed off, immediately lifting your head at the mention of one of your friends in trouble.

- “Is he okay?”

- “Of course, he is, but Sam was very upset this time.” he stroked the side of your face with a small smile. “Enough with the boys, tell me what's wrong.”

- “Everything. I left my car window opened my seat was drenched. At school, everyone was disgustingly happy and in a good mood. I did not know I had an exam, I didn’t even study the subject. And this morning, my dad half ate the rest of my favorites cereals, and then I didn’t eat anything else as a silent protest, I know that’s stupid, but”

- “You didn’t eat anything else?”

- “Yeah, but I…” you lifted your gaze to meet his disapproving one. “I mean, I must have eaten a snack at lunch today…”

- “Must have?” he looked angrier.

- “Y/n??? Where are you??”

The calling of your father interrupted your conversation; he looked in its direction.

- “You should go back inside before your dad comes out.”

- “What? No, please. Can’t you kidnap me for tonight?” he chuckled lightly.

- “Trust me, go back in, okay?”

You looked at him unsure, even though you knew he was worthy of your trust. You finally nodded before running back inside.

- “What took you so long?”

- “Oh, uh, I thought I saw something and got a little carried away.”

- “Mokay, I don’t like you being so close to the woods. We’ve still had a few complaints about some trekkers finding traces of big animals in the woods. I’d prefer you be careful, alright?” You held up a smile, thinking about your friend just outside.

- “Sure.”

You stayed in the middle of the living room, expecting, waiting to see Jacob’s next move. You expected something quick, but when ten minutes later, there were still no signs of him, you felt frustration rising again. Not sure what to do now, you sat next to your father, half paying attention to what was happening on the screen. If he just left you, he was going to pay for it. You needed him, and just like that, he was gone? Probably, got called away by Sam again. Maybe it wasn’t in his control? But if it was…

Knock. Knock.

You looked up, surprised. The door opened with a creaking sound.

- “Oh, Jacob. Hi, what are you doing here?”

- “Hi Charlie, I heard Y/n had a pretty bad day. Came to kidnap her, if that's okay?”

- “Bad day? That’s an understatement. I swear, at one point, I thought she was going to scream at me. I ate her last bowl of cereal this morning; the thing was disgusting, I only ate half of it. I don’t think that helped.” You heard your friend’s low chuckle. Your dad seemed to feel pretty guilty about his crime, which did make you feel a tad bit better. “But yeah sure. Y/n! You have a visitor.”

You walked to them, Jacob awkwardly fitting in your small house; he seemed so disproportionate with his imposing size. For once, he was wearing actual clothes, a shirt and a pair of jeans, a sign he wasn’t planning on having to transform tonight. A sign that he was planning on being entirely dedicated to you.

- “Ready to go? I’m kidnaping you.” He said that last part with a smirk, a hint to your previous request.

- “Sure.” You grabbed your coat, said goodbye to your dad, and left without waiting any longer.

First, he took you away to get some food in you. It wasn’t until your teeth were digging inside a delicious burger that you realized just how hungry you were. Jacob being the glutton that he is, ordered two cheeseburgers along with a pack of large fries. You went for a milkshake, the perfect dessert for a night like this, and took your victuals to the La Push beach. It was empty and peaceful; the sun was slowly going down, the wind just a whisper in the night. It wasn’t even that cold, but the excuse to snuggle into Jake’s wolfish warmth was too good to pass.

- “Feeling better?” he asked while wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

- “Yes. Thanks, Jake.”

- “Kidnapping mission was a success?”

- “Yes, it was.” You answered with a smile.

- “Alright.” He muttered under his breath, looking in the distance.

You stayed for a while in comfortable silence, simply enjoying the other’s presence.

- “So, what were you saying about me not being there today, like that made your day worst?”

His question took you by surprise. A look at his cocky expression was all it took you to punch him in the ribs as hard as you could.

- “You wish idiot.”

He laughed at your attack, he probably didn't even feel a thing but leveled his face with yours in all seriousness.

- “You can avoid this conversation for now since you had a shit day and all, but keep in mind, it’s not over.”

- “And you keep in mind that our discussion about you ordering werewolves to stay behind to protect me, is not over. You won’t get away easily with that one Black.”

He laughed again, visibly amused with your threat. You laughed too but were slightly less amused. These two conversations were important ones, although one you apprehended way more. You looked at Jacob's happy expression and felt a fuzzy feeling warming your body. No, right now was not the time for such serious topics.

All in good time, right?

...

Tagging my two gals because they know how nervous I was😭...@imjustdreamingig @gonzalezyon I did it gals🥺 I hope you'll like it, thank you so much for your support💕💕

#ilya writes ❤#jacob black #jacob black x f!reader #jacob black x reader #jacob black fic #twilight #taylor lautner #twilight saga #wolves #werewolves

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alexaplaysgames · 4 years

Text

Have Mercy on Me

Pairing: Felix Escellun x GN!MC

Fandom: Fictif (Last Legacy)

Rating: M (swearing, mild sexual content)

Words: ~ 1500

Description: Felix and his barista are a bit less than careful when it comes to concealing their midnight make out sess.

Notes: So Sage suspects that Felix and MC are a thing, but he doesn’t know that they are. Or he didn’t prior to this fic. The last of my Felix writing spree! I’m moving on to some Asra next.

Tags: @margitartist @demon-paradise @themohawkhelmet @cactus-hoodie @aomiyeon @piningmaybeanartist @another-confused-gay

When I imagined travelling with the legendary Starsworn, sitting in the parlour of a run-down inn and getting wasted wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.

Sage grabs a bottle from the table at his feet and takes a hearty swig.

“Even this is failing to entertain me now,” he says, cracking his back as he stands, “I’m going to go pass out.”

“Will you kill me if I call it a cat nap?” I singsong.

Safe glares at me in reply, ears pinned flat against his head. “Do you want to find out?”

I opt to stay quiet as he turns towards the stairs that lead to our rented rooms.

“I think I’m going to turn in for the night as well,” Anisa hums, her green eyes glittering in the firelight. “Goodnight, you two!”

Felix and I sit silently as the sound of creaking wood accompanying footsteps retreats up the stairs.

As soon as the parlour is silent, he turns to me, smirking.

“Ah, to be free of Sage’s incessant pestering.”

I too am rather glad to be alone with him. With all that’s gone on lately, I’ve barely had Felix to myself at all these last few days.

The cracking of the fire is soothing, the silence between us strangely comfortable. It’s rather odd, considering Felix isn’t one for quiet contemplation, and it’s very rare that any situation he’s involved in remains free of awkwardness.

I’m distracted from my thoughts as Felix glances down at our hands, still close together being that we have yet to seperate from our previously crowded position on the sofa.

Once again, I feel myself wishing that he would just ask for things when he wanted them, like he so obviously wants to hold my hand now. Am I doing something wrong? Is this some consequence of his relationship with Rime? I know almost nothing about that, I don’t really want to, but if that deer-man did anything to hurt Felix, I guarantee I’ll snap his antlers like Pixy Stix.

Then again, perhaps some of the hurting was consensual. He did have some choice comments about their sexual relationship that I’ve really been trying to forget. Yikes. I can’t imagine the Felix I know in a relationship anything like that.

He’s too precious... too soft. I feel like getting rough with him would break him, shattering his beauty to shards, like stained glass.

But I wouldn’t mind if he were a bit more forward with me.

“Do you want to hold my hand, Felix?”

He starts, then blushes as he meets my gaze. Felix nods, his expression turning resolute as he slowly reaches for my hand, then intertwines my fingers with his.

I reach to delicately tilt his chin up with the index finger of my free hand.

“I do like you, you know,” I tease, but the words still carry meaning. “You don’t have to be so hesitant.”

“O-okay. I know that, I do. It’s just... difficult,” he scoffs, a frustrated sound deep in his throat. His voice goes soft as he continues, “I haven’t- I haven’t done this since...”

“I know.” He doesn’t need to say Rime’s name for me to know who this is about.

I smile, sultry turning soft, then focus my attention back on the fireplace as Felix lays his head on my shoulder with a soft sigh. Progress. His hair tickles my chin, but I don’t really mind. He smells... nice. Like... well, he actually kind of smells like sage. Sage the plant, not the person. Felix would certainly take offence to the latter. I snicker under my breath just thinking of his reaction if I told him so.

I suddenly shiver as Felix turns his face into my neck, trying to stay still. He’s not a huge fan of casual physical contact, and I don’t want to scare him away. He’s kinda like a pet, a cat, in that any time he gets close I stay shock still in hopes that he won’t run off. He’s like a cat in many ways, actually. Grumpy, recluse, adorable. Another description he would despise, knowing his hatred for Stella. I purse my lips to keep from giggling. Man, if only everyone knew how hilarious I really am.

“You realize,” Felix hums, the vibrations creating goosebumps across my skin. “We are completely alone.”

My amusement fades in an instant, my features stretching into a seductive grin.

“Oh? And what, Felix, oh dignified and talented mage, are you suggesting?”

I can almost feel his face heat from where it’s pressed against the soft skin of my neck.

He sighs, then mumbles, “I beg you not to tease me so. We can’t all be as lascivious as Sage, my dear.”

“Felix,” I tease, despite his request, “are you asking for a kiss?”

He pulls away, face flushed red, biting his lip as he refuses to meet my gaze.

“No.” The answer is obviously yes, and although his pout is adorable, he sounds like a stubborn, petulant child.

I place my hands on both of his cheeks, forcing him to meet my gaze.

“Good. Because you don’t need to ask. If you want to kiss me Felix, go ahead.”

It’s a bold challenge. Never does Felix initiate such things, but I want him to. I want him to want to.

He blinks. Then, slowly, tentatively, he shifts closer to me, the sofa creaks beneath him, and I feel the cushions sink as he leans towards me. His breath fans across my face as he gets impossible closer, his eyelashes fluttering against my cheeks.

It’s in moments like these that it truly hits me: how incredibly intoxicating Felix is. I don’t think I could refuse him if I wanted to; my heart yearns to be swept up in the vortex of his stormy eyes, to drown in a sea as black as his fingernails or as red as his bitten lips.

I can just barely feel the brush of his lips against mine, leaving my breath stuttering in my throat. It’s nice- the closeness, the stillness. Intimate even, with our foreheads pressed together and our mouths just barely touching. I could stay like this with him forever.

Then our lips slide together in a familiar, passionate dance, slow and sensual and utterly delicious. I instinctively move my hands to tangle in his hair, pulling just the way I know he likes, while Felix surprises me by moving one hand to cup my face, the other to skim my thigh, and kissing me back hard, hard enough to make me feel like the breath that fills his lungs, and I struggle to refrain from smiling against the softness of his lips.

I pull away, trying not to notice his bereft, breathy little exhale, just long enough to quirk a brow before I place my hands on his chest and push him back into the sofa, chuckling at the noise of shock that he makes.

And while I love to have him near me, holding me, this is where I like Felix best. Pinned under me as I straddle his waist, wide, silvery eyes reflecting the dying firelight.

I lean over him, tantalizing, teasing, trace a path with my tongue from his collarbone to the shell of his ear, then finish by biting down on his earlobe, rolling the stud he wears in his ear with the tip of my tongue.

Felix gasps, hips involuntarily pressing upwards and against mine, a breathy whine building in his throat. I catch his wrists and pin them above his head, leaning back to admire the mess I’ve made of him.

“So pretty,” I murmur, twirling a strand of his hair with my free hand.

“You are quite,” his voice shakes with his ragged exhale, “resplendent yourself.”

I snort, hum, then lean forward to capture his mouth in a sinful, open-mouth kiss, grinding against him once more in a way that has us both panting into each other’s mouths. I’m not sure how long we stay tangled up like that, rocking together, never parting for longer than it takes to catch a breath.

His skin is surprisingly warm to the touch when my fingers flit under the fabric of his shirt, dipping over the soft give of his stomach, a gentle, exploratory touch I can feel mirrored by Felix’s hands on the bare skin of my arms.

I’m just about to suggest we take this somewhere more private when I’m interrupted by a choking noise. A sound not unlike that of a cat, yakking on a hairball.

Felix and I hastily spring apart, and my gaze is immediately drawn to a tall, white-haired figure standing at the base of the stairs.

“Holy fuck.” Sage whispers, his expression a mix of amusement, awe, and confusion. His eyes dart between the look of sheer mortification that paints my features and Felix’s disheveled appearance and half-open shirt.

Shit.

Felix flops back down, burying his burning red face in a pillow.

“Not now, Sage.”

Sage only smirks. “Interrupted something, did I? By all means, don’t stop on my accord. I’m all for watching, or joining. If you’re into that sorta thing.”

I can only manage to stare, slack-jawed. Is he really suggesting...?

“So,” Sage clears his throat, causing Felix to groan at the realization that he has not yet left. “You two really are-“

I nod.

“No,” he grimaces.

“Yes,” I deadpan.

“No,” he repeats, louder, frantic. “I cannot live in a world in which Felix has game. First Rime, now you? Are you sure you’re the one who got teleported to another dimension?”

“That’s not exactly what-“ Felix finally huffs as he raises his head, glaring.

“Whatever, man. This is some fucked up shit. Majorly fucked up, that’s what I say.” Sage crosses the room, retrieving a dagger from the nearby armchair and twirling it dangerously in his leather-clad grip (I assume this is the reason he came back into the parlour at all).

He makes to move up the stairs, but pauses, throwing me a grin over his shoulder, accompanied by a waggle of his eyebrows.

“But if you ever wanna get a taste of the wild side...”

“Sage!” Felix exclaims, eyes flashing a dangerous green, but the former only snickers.

“Goodnight, horny children. Try to keep the noise level to a minimum, if ya know what I mean.”

I have to slap my hand over Felix’s mouth to stifle his angry retort.

This is going to be a long few days.

#Felix Escellun #Felix Iskandar Escellun #Felix x mc #interactive game #interactive fiction #visual novel #Last Legacy Fanfiction #Fictif #Fictif Last Legacy #Last Legacy #last legacy Felix

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blazedgraysons · 4 years

Note

virgin reader giving grayson a bj

a/n: i promise i’m working on requests, my life has just been incredibly busy along with me working on the no nut fic and some other exciting things for y’all!! anyways thank you for the request angel, hope you like it🤍🤍

warnings: first-time bj’s, lack of communication between these two, and grayson having a bit of innocence kink if you squint

this is a continuation of this request. you don’t have to read it to understand what’s going on here (but you should read it anyways bc it’s kinda good lmao)

---

If you were to list your worst moments when it came to love and dating, your first blowjob had to be near the top.

It was high school, junior year with some football player named Chad Daniels. You both were at a party, and honestly, the whole experience was less than extraordinary. It only took two seconds before Chad immediately tried facefucking you. All you could remember is the pain you felt from gagging and choking and almost instantly pushing him off of you.

Needless to say, it wasn't your favorite activity nor something you were that desperate to try again. Until Grayson.

It wasn't like you were dumb; you knew how much guys love getting their dick sucked. And with Grayson doing everything he can to please you, you wanted to return the favor.

You had planned to wake him up with morning head after that first time he ate you out, something cute, intimate, and if you're honest, probably very ambitious for your first time.

However, any worries you may have had were proven to be completely unnecessary when you woke up to Grayson licking into you. You jerk roughly awake, legs only staying in place due to Grayson's firm grip. It doesn't take long before your scream of surprise turns into moans, growing louder when you watch your insanely cocky boyfriend wink at you.

"Grayson, what the- what the fuck?" You softly moan out the last part, shuddering at the way he starts sucking on your clit.

He pops up, a cheeky grin on his face and lips red and shining.

"Morning!" He goes back down and continues working you higher and higher to your orgasm. It doesn't take long, melting under Grayson's touch. He watches your face, his expression star-struck, and just so fucking in love as he sees how he just made your body fall apart.

"You couldn't wait until after breakfast?"

"Angel, that was my breakfast." He kisses you softly, leaving you dazed as he walks to the bathroom.

It started to become a drug for him; Whether he was stressed, happy, or even just bored, Grayson was beginning to find a new home in between your legs. And with him dropping to his knees more and more, it only furthered your desire to do the same.

You started to notice. He would eat you out, make you cum, and then leave to go take care of himself. It was an annoying pattern that was being formed, but no matter what, he wouldn't let you do anything about it.

"Step-by-step, remember? This is about you." was always his answer, and while you appreciated his devotion to your pleasure, you were starting to crave him. Crave the weight of him in your mouth, the heady taste, and most of all, the visual of him cumming from your doing.

If you were ever going to take this any further, you needed to figure out how to show him that you're not just doing this out of an obligation, but because you absolutely desire to make him feel as good as he does to you.

So you follow his advice and take it slow. You start with light brushes, lingering touches on his chest and thighs, flirty glances. Grayson notices; he makes a few quips about how touchy you've become but ultimately believing it's the result of the two of you taking your relationship further. You move on to suggestive comments, openly making jokes about blowjobs and talking about his dick. If he notices, he doesn't say anything, just laughs and shakes his head, playing it up for the vlogs.

You sit on his lap when the car is too crowded, he moves you so you're not directly on him; you suck a lollipop in front of him, he goes into another room to "finish editing." It was almost as if the roles had reversed, him now being the one to run away. You were starting to feel frustrated, thinking he was getting some twisted joy from seeing you so flustered.

So you decide to approach it head-on, bluntly asking him during lunch,

"Why won't you let me suck your dick?"

He chokes on his sandwich, staring at you, shocked.

"Angel, what?" He dramatically coughs out, and you roll your eyes at the theatrics.

"Why won't you let me suck your dick?" You enunciate, speaking slowly while raising an eyebrow. He just stares back at you, not speaking or moving before going back to his food.

"S'fine, Y/N. I can take care of myself. This is about you." He doesn't look at you when he speaks, more preoccupied with his vegan BLT (which he made so you know it can't be that damn good)

You pout, pushing your food around with your fork. It's the same response he's been giving, and at this point, you're worried you might snap if you don't get a real answer.

"Are you seriously trying to tell me that whatever you're doing with your hand is better than my mouth?" He takes a sharp breath, pushing his plate away from him.

"Enough, Y/N. I don't want to talk about it.". If you were stupider, you would've dropped it, let him continue with his lunch, and let him go at his own pace. But you were becoming worried, wondering why he would shut you out instead of opening up.

"Gray," You move to sit next to him, playing with one of his hands as you continue. "You told me all you want is for me to be honest with you. Can you please do the same?" He sighs, taking a moment before answering,

"I'm just scared that once we start, I won't be able to stop. It's not that I don't want you to, it's just— I don't want to lose control and ruin anything for you." Whatever you were expecting couldn't have prepared you for that, and honestly, you were a little surprised. Selfishly, your fears were centered around your own insecurities: that Grayson didn't think you were good enough to, that he wasn't attracted to you, etc. As usual though, Grayson shocked you with how his universe seems to entirely revolve around you and your happiness.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have said that. That was stupid." Grayson takes back, scared that your silence is one of fear or disgust. You place a hand on his arm, moving closer.

"Amour, don't apologize." You kiss him lovingly, feeling soft over how sweet your boyfriend can be. You pull away, kissing his cheek before continuing.

"Us taking this slow isn't just for me — it's for you too. And you know that whatever you want to do, I'm obviously down for as well" He smiles stupidly.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. But believe me, you've been making me feel really good lately." He perks up at that.

"And I really, really, really want to make you feel good too." You take his hand, leading him to the couch. His eyes follow your every move, not wanting to miss a single thing. You kiss him again before pulling away quickly, a thought coming to your head.

"You're gonna have to help me. I haven't done this that much." He nods rapidly, pants growing tighter with every word. He doesn't have exact words to describe it, but there's something so hot about the innocent look on your face, the way you're looking at him wide-doe eyes and waiting for his instruction. Something so pure about the knowledge that you still held onto so many of your first, yet so sinful that he was going to be the man to ruin that. You lightly lick your lips as you put your hair up, and Grayson's mouth goes dry at the movement.

"I'm pretty sure I've dreamt about this before."

"Let's hope I live up to the standards." He groans lowly as you sink to your knees.

"Trust me, you're already pretty close." His heart sinks when you rest both palms above his knees, and he can tell he's working himself up. After going a while without doing anything remotely sexual, the slightest touch sends little shockwaves straight to his dick. If the anticipation meant anything, he would probably cum the second you actually touched where he needed you most.

You unbutton his pants, sliding them down with his help. You stare at how his boxers are already tented, forming a nice bulge. Already you're feeling overwhelmed, not sure where you want to start first while just wanting to show him how much you adore him.

You watch as he slides his boxers down, and your mouth starts watering. Grayson obviously radiates big dick energy, that's no secret to anyone, and you've seen him freeball in grey sweats enough times to at least have an idea of what he's working with. Seeing the real thing, however, has you more turned on than you've been before.

"So big," You whisper, and Grayson's sure he could cum then and there from the awestruck look on your face. You kiss his upper thigh, right next to his medusa tattoo, before tentatively kissing the tip.

"Angel, please." He could cry, finally having you where he wants you, but not doing enough to relieve any of the tension he's feeling. He knows you're not teasing, not even entirely sure of what you're doing to him, and while he's usually not a beggar, he'll do whatever it takes to finally get you on him.

You nod, growing wet at his soft pleas before licking from his base to his tip. You take him into your mouth, sucking the head while watching Grayson's head fall back onto the couch. You lean back a little, spitting before taking him back in your mouth, going further than before. You continue that for a minute, bobbing your head slightly. You moan softly at your boyfriend's blissed-out expression, eyes glazed over as he looks at you sucking him off.

"Your hands, angel —use them. Please," He moans out the last part, having already added your hands the minute he said the word. You stroke up and down the part that can't fit, experimentally twisting them.

You're drooling now, covering both your chin and his dick, and honestly, your jaw is starting to hurt, but the look on Grayson's face is more than enough to keep going.

"Wait, off. Angel, get off." You pull off of him, scared that you've done something wrong. One hand is still lightly jerking him off while the other rests on his upper thigh.

"Gonna —gonna cum. Didn't want to in your mouth." He's breathless, panting to calm himself down from how you've worked him up. You push the hand away that is moving to replace yours and start sucking again.

"You're okay with that?" He questions and you nod as best you can, humming happily. Between the vibrations, how wet your mouth is, and the way your hands are moving, Grayson is done, cumming with a silent moan and eyes closing.

You take every drop, swallowing before pulling away to jerk him slowly. You watch with big eyes as he twitches and slightly jerks in your hand, riding the after waves of his orgasm. Once you feel he's finally done, you move up to sit next to him.

"How was that?" You're genuinely curious, wanting to know if it was as good for him as you thought. He opens his eyes, pupils blown and breath still a little ragged.

"Perfect." He kisses you deeply, shivering slightly when he tastes himself. "You're fucking perfect." He moves his hand lower, already reaching for your shorts, but you stop him.

You're tired, exhausted really. So you take him to bed, silently suggesting a nap, unaware of Grayson's self-promises to make you feel twice as good when you wake up.

#remember ladies #if you're man doesn't kiss you after you suck him off #he doesn't deserve head #grayson dolan #grayson dolan fic #grayson dolan blurb #grayson dolan smut #dolan twins #dolan twins fic #dolan twins blurb #dolan twins smut #blazedwritings

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flickeringart · 4 years

Text

Pisces Sun and Moon Combinations

Planets represent different energetic principals in the life of an individual – the signs show what filter these energies express through.

Having an inner planet (or luminary) in the sign of Pisces gives the personality receptivity, a boundless quality. No matter what other placements the person has, the passive and intuitive nature is going to come through.

To simplify;

The Sun represents individuation, ideal self-expression and conscious self-actualization.

The Moon represents instinct, emotional nature and personal needs.

Pisces Sun – Virgo Moon

The personal path of self-actualization is trailed with surrender. There’s great sensitivity, which if kept within a limited ego-structure threaten to drown the person. Life might seem threatening and vicious, there’s a desire to up-hold the belief in love but when adversity gets too real, the person might snap in the name of preserving goodness. The person is unwilling to forgive certain things, but they’re also incapable of holding toxic grudges for long. It does nothing but to prolong suffering and Pisces Suns can’t stand to be in atmosphere of friction. They are very forgiving in their evolved state, however, if they’re not, they might justify cruel behavior by reinterpreting it as mercy or care. “This person needs to learn a lesson and I am going to be the good person to teach them” might be the attitude. Needless to say, it can turn extremely manipulative. The personal comfort are very much dependent on keeping one’s life in check. The person craves order and puts faith in the intellectual faculties to feel in control. Getting one’s life on track is a pressing need, which is not a bad thing unless the details gain utmost importance and the big picture is lost. The person is more likely to trust people who are efficient and willing to adapt – it’s how they show their care and how they would choose to be nurtured in turn. Although there’s a tendency to get bogged down in the mundane and day-to-day routines, a proclivity to focus on what must be put in order - there’s also an awareness of the vast backdrop of the undifferentiated realm. The person might turn critical and nit-picky when needs aren’t met, but the overall personality is soft and giving. There’s great compassion for the self in it’s limited scope and ideally an understanding of the transcendent realm. The person might be a diligent worker but prone to get overwhelmed and stressed. Crowds, disorderly environments and chaos would take a toll on the emotional integrity but the person might keep quiet about it and be a bit ashamed to admit to this kind of sensitivity. Confusion makes the person feel very uneasy and unsafe emotionally, but in terms of identity it’s fine for them to be less concrete, more diffuse and undifferentiated. Personality wise, the person is more of an artist. Instinctively, the person is more of an intellectual.

Pisces Sun – Sagittarius Moon

Emotionally, there’s restlessness and a need to move about, to try out new things and experience as much as possible. While there’s a hot and fiery temperament to this individual, the overall personality wants to get lost and to be immersed in life as intimately as possible. The person throws themselves into experiences that hold the promise of consumption and freedom. The two might seem incompatible and to a certain extent they are. On the one hand there’s the transcendent perspective of everything being unreal and therefore equally worthy of reverence – the world is beautiful no matter what state is in and one sees no need to judge or define. On the other, the spirit sees potential for expansion and is not satisfied with passivity. Life is important and it should be pursued passionately through the highs and the lows. There’s definitely some friction that is felt within the person relative to these things. One is a passive victim but the victimhood is not void of meaning. There’s an optimist that lives within and it insist on adopting a casual attitude. The person craves constant movement and stimulation; they won’t sit around and dwell for long. There’s more to discover and find beyond the horizon. Having a good time and engaging in exciting activities is a must with a Sagittarius Moon – there must be something to look forward to, there has to be plans for trips, events or future happenings. With this combo, the person is prone to live in their bubble – to emotionally latch on to things and crave stimulation. It could easily be taken overboard if there’s no inner factor that works for caution and restriction. The person would want to take a large mouthpiece of life, to devour it with arrogance yet looking a bit zoned out while it’s all carried out. In general, Pisces Suns could benefit for surrounding themselves with more fixed or cardinal individuals to ground them and provide direction occasionally since they tend to plunge the emotional depths quite often. That being said, Pisces is really the sign that contains everything and is too mutable to get to. This is a great strength as much as it’s a great weakness. If one is can learn accommodate for separateness and unity at the same time one is on the right track.

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Pisces Sun – Pisces Moon

The person is the embodiment of a lucid dream. Looking into their eyes would be like looking into a deep well. Things are moving in the depths, they shift from dark to light yet one can see a mirrored image of the clouds in the sky on surface because it’s so reflective. There’s gentleness and softness and naiveté to the person, but somehow the thick mists of something else comes through. There’s unpredictability and a subtle uncertainty about the person. “Such a sweet person can’t hurt a fly” some would say, and ultimately they would be right – in a dream scape nothing can really be hurt because nothing is real. However, in a dream that feels very real to many people (physical reality), it is possible to experience real pain. This is where this person can cause real harm because they seek to merge. Sometimes it’s not the overt confrontations that are the most deadly, it’s the suffocating enmeshment labeled “love” that can passively and aggressively drown people out. A lot of covertly violent behavior can be justified through the Piscean lens although it’s usually unconscious. On a more positive note, the connection to the personal and collective unconscious could translate into inspired works of art. The person could be skilled at accurately reflecting the emotions of the times and provide humanity with something that is helpful and insightful. The person might think of himself or herself as more of a channeling vessel and avoiding taking individual credit for things that flow through. The logic of this person might not be completely comprehensible to people with a predominant intellectual temperament, but that doesn’t mean that the person isn’t intelligent. Intelligence is not exclusively reserved to the intellect. The intuitive abilities are likely very strong and they could be extremely informative and rich in value. One should be aware of confusing fantasies, feelings and projections with real intuitive guidance though. There’s likely to be a progression in navigating the emotional realm over time. Learning what to trust could be difficult, but the more the person self-actualizes throughout life, the surer one becomes. World-weariness and a longing for something ultimately true could prevail throughout life. There’s a feeling of having come to an end after many lifetimes, and one might finally be able to let go of all attachments to existence.

Pisces Sun – Gemini Moon

The emotional nature craves interaction with the environment. Without being able to engage in an intellectual exchange the person feels dissatisfied and unfulfilled. Having the opportunity to have fun and communicate with people is what lies at the core of the person’s emotional well-being. Mentally stimulating subjects or people are high up on the priority list whether the person knows it or not. The best solution to emotional discomfort according to the person could be to just change the subject, distract oneself or hang out with others to avoid being alone and isolated. Mental movement is what the person thinks keeps them afloat, but it’s really just an avoidance tactic. Over time the person would hopefully learn to be comfortable with solitude. The overall personality is quite receptive and absorbing which makes overload a likely situation. The person might try to cope by rationalizing and intellectualizing experiences, but with a Pisces Sun, it won’t work. The person’s path of individuation is supposed to go in the direction of feeling, of empathy and a genuine appreciation of all of life. This might prove a bit contradictory to the intellectual temperament, which is inclined to live life through keeping active and occupied with playing little tricks and making little jokes. The person’s emotional nature is the personification of a “naughty teenager” – too young to have any moral compass yet is fully capable to using the mind to get what they want. The double mutable combo makes it difficult for the person to define himself or herself definitely; life is movement, whether it’s mental or emotional. Life is not only in constant fluctuation, it is also double-sided and multi faceted. The person might have many faces within to choose from. Closeness could be a dilemma since the emotional nature is a bit wary of permanent binds that can grow stagnant while the path of self-actualization calls for intimacy and unconditional love. The conscious identity might claim that “I see myself in you and I want to be with you”, while the more unconscious lunar needs might recoil from the statement and find it too sentimental. The person might experience a dynamic where the more romantic identity is constantly criticized by an inner voice of sarcasm a wit. This could be very frustrating. In general, the person is very sensitive to the words of others in particular and the thoughts that run through the mind.

Pisces Sun – Taurus Moon

This combo produces a serene and deep personality. The basic needs revolve around being able to control one’s physical environment, to create comfort and sensory satisfaction for oneself. Being a good and solid physical entity in the world is what the person craves emotionally. Personality wise, the person is a dreamer, a soul before a body, and a soul before a thought. One might not derive a sense of self from one’s material welfare or stability, but it is certainly a pressing need in the person’s life. Identity wise, the person is quite passive as is characteristic of Pisces, but this doesn’t mean that he or she is weak. There’s a romanticism and idealism to the person that has an enchanting effect on the environment – people are drawn to the sweetness and innocence of the intangible that the person represents. A Taurus Moon loves to feel attractive, maybe not for their emotions but for their body and physical presence. Never the less it works well on both levels. Taurus likes to be in control of value and Pisces appreciates anything remotely close to an epic love encounter. The person is likely very sensual and feminine. There would be a stubborn streak imbedded in the adaptable and receptive personality, a need to live a simple but an honest life with integrity. This might work well with the path of self-actualization if the person can allow themselves to lean on others sometimes and not carry the load of living all by themselves. Instinctively, there’s the tendency to take control and be possessive and demonstrative. It’s wise to let intuition be one’s guide occasionally and not get blinded by routine. The art that this person should develop is to shift and change without fear, to allow for unscheduled breakthroughs and breakdowns and roll with them. It might make the person uncomfortable, but it is necessary to not get stuck in resistance. Too strong of an identification with the body and tangible reality could make the person cut off from the psychic realm and one might have to consciously work on opening up one’s eyes to the richness of the unconscious. On the flip side, too much identification with the psychic realm could make the person indifferent to instinctual needs and prone to gloss over the importance of physical safety.

Pisces Sun – Leo Moon

The instinctual nature is bold, dramatic and attention seeking. There’s a lot of energy to the emotional nature that doesn’t escape anyone’s notice. Pride and stubbornness could show up occasionally when the mood hits, otherwise the emotions are warm and inclusive. Everyone should be invested in one’s emotional happenings, in this person’s opinion, but it is rarely the case so the last resort is to demand attention. The person will feel very uncomfortable in his or her emotional displays because it is not what is sought or idealized. The identity is thriving of off embodying the undifferentiated, the background to the foreground. It’s a passive identity that stems from seeing the whole in the limited and loving the limited just as much as the whole. The egocentric drama of the emotional nature is too bold and dominant for the Piscean identity, it’s out of place and incongruent with the path of individuation. The personal needs are, however, not able to change or compromise. They’re impossible to suppress or reject without making the whole individual suffer, which is why the loving attitude of a Pisces Sun will have to accommodate for the need to stir things up, exaggerate and create a fuss around the emotional fluctuations. Emotions are very personal to this individual – preferably, the world should revolve around them. It’s important to develop a mature sense of self since the emotional nature will remain the equivalent of a child with a god complex that likes to boast about personal talents and skills. With detachment and compassion one can parent one’s emotional needs and give them healthy outlets. This combo lends itself to creativity, romance and artistry – perhaps even showmanship. The person craves entertainment and it would be a great way to satisfy the Piscean preference for fantasy and other-worldliness. One should be aware of the proclivity to use play and enjoyment as an escape – overindulging is never a good idea. That being said, it’s ok to live through one’s creations and be guided through inspiration. Beautiful creations that are emotionally and energetically potent could emanate if there’s enough room in the person’s life for spontaneity and feeling.

Pisces Sun – Scorpio Moon

The identity is striving toward transcendence and divine bliss. It’s a private and personal journey undoubtedly, the Scorpio nature has a strong self-focus of protection which would serve to isolate the person somewhat. Shutting the blinders to the world and retreating into an inner cave is what this person would prefer to do. The world might seem tough and inhospitable, yet it is loved immensely because one can’t bear to invest in fear over “God”. However, on a more unconscious, emotional level, there’s nothing that doesn’t justify attack to this person. The instinctual nature is quite primitive in it’s expression and might demand control. If the person isn’t aware of this side of themselves, the instinctual needs of power might disguise itself as a honorable quest for peace when it’s really just about achieving immunity to life. A Scorpio Moon is never invested in something out of purely altruistic motives – the fear of being used, abused and deceived is too great. This fear compels them to want to get the upper hand by “decoding” the complexity of reality, to see through the façade of innocence as to uncover the dirt underneath. No one is fully trusted which might cause him or her to turn to life (God, the universe, the divine) itself as an abstract source for comfort. A Pisces Sun has a predominately romantic outlook on life, whereas the Scorpio Moon leans in the direction of suspicion and apprehension. Emotional overwhelm is not unlikely but rather than it being wholly used for surrender it would could act as fuel for resentment and hatred. The person is likely to have little patience with ignorant and thoughtless people who think they have the “right” to behave however they want. There’s something ruthlessness about the person that might not surface until there’s actual danger present. There’s immense bravery and cold-headedness in crises. Outside of situations that require immediate action there’s a sweet personality that can be a bit shy, introverted and appreciative of solitude. There’s a great capacity for emotional endurance and resiliency that shouldn’t be underestimated. There’s dedication and seriousness to the lofty quest for eternity and love.

Pisces Sun – Aquarius Moon

There’s a whole other world outside of convention, and this is where this person can be found – up in the clouds and down in the depths of the ocean. What the mundane and human has to offer is not really worth much in and of itself, it’s nice to look upon as a phenomenon, but it’s not what is ultimately treasured. There can be appreciation for the mundane, but only in the light of a higher quest. Everything is divine creation and life is beautiful, but it can also feel like physical life is an exile from perfection and a separation from an original source. Emotionally, there’s a kind of general intimacy that is felt with the human condition. Everyone goes through the same thing more or less and the shared experience is beautiful – with sufficient analysis and understanding of one’s needs there’s nothing that can’t be overcome and used as raw material for progression. Feelings are abstract with this person and are not used for the purpose of creating an identity. Paradoxically, the instinct is quite intellectual and feelings are processed from the standpoint of a mental ideal rather than expressed with the backing of identity. The person can come off as cool and detached while delivering all sorts of preachy speech about how things ought to be, ideally. There’s little room for imperfection, and even if there are imperfections they are coolly understood from a distance. The mental plane is never personal, although it accommodates for the personal. The overall path of individuation is trailed with the longing for redemption. The instinct would be to look to society and people to find where things might have gone wrong, but one should take care as to not blindly choose a scapegoat or be too quick to judge something as bad just because it doesn’t fit with one’s idea of bliss. The person has a lot of compassion and love to offer, but it might be done from a more global identification rather than a personal one. The person would definitely be more comfortable on a general level rather than a personal and intimate level. However, even if love is expressed in person, it’s a universal love that is more of a symbol than actual feeling. The person might find that emotions are creating moods that color the person’s whole reality. They’re more like big waves than little tides and there’s no choice but to surrender to them and navigating from a space of allowing. Fighting won’t do this person any good and there’s probably an intuitive knowing that this is the case.

Pisces Sun – Capricorn Moon

There’s something very calming about this combo, even though it will have it’s stressors and overwhelms. The person is self-actualizing through loosing the rigid boundaries of the ego structure and being intuitively guided through life without imposing a separate sense of self. This doesn’t come without it’s challenges because if there’s ego left, there will be the perception of having to make sacrifices in the name of love and overall goodness. However, there’s the potential for being led through life seamlessly if conscious surrender can be achieved, without there being any hate directed at physical and psychic boundaries. In truth, the limited that appears in the unlimited is not really limited at all. Even though there’s receptiveness and softness to the personal identity, the emotional nature is quite restrained. There’s pressure to perform and live up to one’s potential, there’s a demand for conformity and duty, to provide something concrete and estimable in spite of innate insufficiencies. The person has an inner disciplinarian that won’t allow for complete satisfaction – ever. There’s futility embedded in the person’s temperament, a kind of pessimism that seeks to be cured through ambition. Human existence is a pitiful thing to behold; it presents a lose-lose scenario that points to the development of character as the only hope of redemption. The person is essentially put between a rock and a hard place – to try and or give up and lose the self to cynicism. Emotions are habitually suppressed with a Capricorn Moon, which causes them to come out in uncontrollable bursts or through bodily symptoms. The skepticism and selfishness of the inner temperament is just as much a recipe for societal success as it is for unhappiness. “I only do what will bring me status” is the dark side of this Moon. The tendency of Pisces to play the victim could play in to this dynamic and make it a toxic cocktail. To play on the heartstrings of people while carrying out purely self-serving actions could serve to reach the height of manipulation. The task is to dismantle the shame around failure and face the emotions of weakness. The ambitious strivings might never go away, but they can serve to honor the self instead of compensating for the self.

Pisces Sun – Aries Moon

Summarized in one statement, this person would be “the impulsive dreamer”. There’s a warrior spirit living inside the personality of a mystic. Needless to say, the incompatibility of these energies could be felt quite strongly. There’s a thick and bittersweet romanticism to the identity, world-weariness and a longing for relief from the burdens of life. There’s nothing more to be done, there’s little desire accept to make oneself and others feel connected, if not merged. The person wants to blend with something that is unlimited, to taste a little bit of freedom through pushing the limits. There’s a fiery temper that needs to be let-out, and if one is not careful it might turn self-destructive. There’s a strong sense of self that lies at the core of the emotional nature and it needs to assert itself. However, the Piscean identity might not be up for honest confrontation and outbursts and flaming anger is not in the least bit empowering. However, the identity can learn to use the powerful emotions in creative ways. By acting powerless and at the mercy of one’s own temper it’s possible to identify as a victim, which fits the Piscean profile to a T. Alternatively, one could use the warrior spirit to be a savior and a hero in other people’s lives, which fits the Pisces personality equally well. One should beware that one has a lot of energy and take care as to how it is discharged. This combo has the potential for love that is demonstrative and assertive, but there’s always the risk of blurring the lines between assertion and aggression – especially with a Piscean identity. Cruelty can be mercy, and mercy can be cruelty, what is what can be a little bit unclear. The Arien instinct is to act fast and impulsively, which might cause damage. The person is then pressed to restore the identification of innocence, shattered by the violent and “immature” behavior that was let out, unwillingly. In an attempt to do this there could be all sorts of manipulative blame shifting and justifications taking place. Instead of coping with it like this it is wise to own one’s potent emotions and recognize their power. An Aries Moon is not bad, although it’s quite direct, and the identity will have to accommodate for the more anti-social aspects of the feeling nature. Disruption doesn’t have to contradict harmony; it is sometimes just as healthy as passivity. Someone has to stir the pot and stand up for some kind of ideal even if it’s uncomfortable.

Pisces Sun – Cancer Moon

There’s a strong proclivity to shut the world out and get everything done from inside of one’s own private sphere. The intangible is familiar to this person and it’s equally real as anything else. There could be a lot of fear circling the person’s unconscious and conscious mind, intrusive thoughts and emotions could arise spontaneously and threaten to overwhelm the being. On one level the person is ok with being at the mercy of something bigger but on another there’s a deep need for protection against the unconscious. The wiser the person gets, the more value can be found in flowing with the tides. However, with an undeveloped ego it might be too much to navigate the experiences. This is why it’s very important to develop a separate self within the all-encompassing self, or connect to the all-encompassing within the little self. If this is done, there’s nothing to be feared anymore and one can live life to the fullest. The person’s emotions are the embodiment of a woman on her period (and this analogy applies to men as well). Irrational worries, cravings for specific things, hot and cold moods, clinginess and passive aggressiveness, and the list go on. Sudden exclamations of love could be followed by resentment and anxiety. However, there’s a capacity for offering unconditional care and empathy. There’s an instinctual understanding of emotional and physical needs while the conscious identity is more idealistic and romantic. Love is divine, not primal in the person’s eyes – yet the pull to have a physical home and the whole package of safety seems too be too pressing to ignore. It’s impossible to sacrifice everything for love – certain unconscious forces crave personal satisfaction and personal belonging. It is not enough to feel one with the universe or God. The Cancer Moon might instinctively want a home and a familial context to be satisfied and it could work well with the Piscean ideal and romanticism. The difficulty might lie in the effort it takes and the imperfections that come with the burdens of family life. The martyr complex might develop which might turn very toxic. The truth is that the person has enough to deal with regulating their own emotions and escapist tendencies. Individual strength is a necessary evil; it takes a lot of work for this person.

Pisces Sun – Libra Moon

There’s a strong focus on other people with this combo. Emotionally, there’s a thirst for balanced relationships, which causes an enhanced focus on what is happening with other people – what they’re doing and what they’re thinking. Appreciation of others comes naturally and is nothing the person has to work on. This being said, there’s a risk of desiring a world where everything is meticulously designed and perfected – which is bound to end up in disappointment. Nothing can really measure up to the standard that this person has set – it’s too fantastical. The divine could be sought through partnerships because the personal instinct is to navigate life through others. The path of self-actualization lies in the mystical quest for unity. Combining the two, one ends up with a person that is extremely idealistic and dependent on others to carry the self to new heights. The person can’t be without beauty; this is the most important component in life. To balance and adjust the atmosphere to suit one’s preferences is a constant work in progress. The restlessness and frustration that stems from not being able to make things be as one wants them to might not sit well with the Piscean identity. The divine essence shines through in everything, but the Libran perspective thinks that the divine is reached through modification and adjustment. Libra is the sign of the Arts, and art is form, first and foremost. The Piscean identity might claim that everything is art because nothing stands apart from the sublime source. Accepting everything as it is, is not an option for this person, even if the conscious identity might want it to be. Instinctually and unconsciously the person needs the new clothes, the pretty cake and the right music. Not to forget a socially estimable partner to cling to. Although the more instinctual needs are this superficial, the path of individuation is to see beyond form, to feel the aliveness within everything and merge with it yet remain separate without feeling disconnection from the greater Self. Life is an ongoing dance, yet it stands perfectly still at the same time. It’s fine to seek satisfaction in beauty, because it is not the ultimate, but it is expressed through it - as it is expressed through everything in existence.

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johnsamericano · 4 years

Text

“Darling.” l.t.y

Pairing: mafia!Taeyong x journalist!reader

Genre: fluff (Taeyong’s a really soft boi), angst, (not kinky) smut

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of violence, minor character death, sex, I think that’s it.

Summary: Your boss asks you to write an insight on the mafia gang that’s been causing so many deaths recently. But you don’t expect the leader to be so...different.

Word count: idk but it’s ✨long✨

A/n: I hope you like it 😌

“Yes, boss?” You peeked through the door of your boss’s office.

“Sit down, please.” He removed his glasses, gently massaging his nose bridge afterwards. “How long have you been working with us, y/n?”

“Five months, sir.”

“Do you like working here?” It suddenly sounded like he was about to fire you.

“Yes, very much.” You squeezed your hands nervously. “Have I done something wrong, sir?”

“Not at all, your work is pretty good for a rookie.” His gaze on you was intense. “That’s why I have a special job for you.” Your eyes lit up. You weren’t getting fired and that was a relief.

“I’m sure you’re aware about the recent murders around this area.” You nodded. “After exhaustive research, we’ve found the culprit.” That was good news, yet he seemed so serious.

“Have you told the police?”

“Oh I’m sure they know.” He smirked sarcastically, his mustache making contact with his wide nose. “But they won’t do anything, we’re dealing with a mafia gang after all.”

“Wait, what?” You lived in a small town were everyone knew each other. It was shocking enough to find out that a killer was in town, but mafia? That wasn’t possible. “Are you sure about this?”

“Of course I am.” He said as cocky as ever. “I’ve worked in this industry for more than thirty years, I have my ways of getting information.”

“So what are you gonna do about it?”

“I’m not gonna do shit. You are.” You furrowed your eyebrows. “I want you to find a way into the gang, get me as much information as you can and return.”

“Are you out of your mind?”

“You don’t have a say in this, y/n. Either you get information or you can pack your things, it won’t be hard to find a replacement for you.” He knew you wouldn’t risk losing your job, being a journalist meant everything to you.

“Is there a deadline?”

“We’ll discuss about that as soon as you find a way in. I’ll make sure all your personal information is well protected.” He smiled, satisfied with your answer. “You may leave now, miss y/n.” You bowed before exiting the office, kicking the plant pot by the door on your way out. One of your superiors approached you as you sat down at your small cubicle.

“What did he want?” He sat down on your desk as usual. The first few times you were afraid it’d break, but it turned out to be pretty resistant.

“He wants me to go on a suicidal mission.” You hid your face behind the palms of your hands. “And I had to say yes to keep my job.”

“The whole office turned him down, I guess he knew you wouldn’t.” He rubbed your back affectionately. “I’m sorry, I should’ve done it myself.”

“Don’t worry Jaemin, let’s just hope I don’t get myself killed.”

(...)

Three weeks. Three weeks you’d been visiting the same coffee shop in an attempt to meet the leader. But he never came, maybe your boss had the wrong information. Nevertheless, you didn’t give up. Sitting at the same spot from 9:00 a.m. to 7:00 p.m., waiting for something to happen. There was usually no one there since the recent murders had happened nearby.

One day you stayed for a couple more hours, completely immersed in your work. That’s when you saw him. A man surrounded by at least ten men in suits. He was wearing sunglasses even though the sun had hidden a long time ago. His hair was silver, carefully slicked back, revealing his multiple ear piercings. You wrote exactly what he looked like as you peeked through the window, too afraid to take a picture of him. He soon dissapeared through an alley with his bodyguards following closely. You closed your laptop and packed it into your yellow backpack, calling a cab to take you back to your office. Your boss was still there, checking some of the notes your coworkers had written.

“I found him!” You bursted into his office, your journal wide open in front of his face.

“Did you get in?” He remained unfazed.

“No, but-”

“Then you shouldn’t be celebrating.” You internally screamed before going back home. You stayed up all night trying to come up with a plan to approach him without getting beaten up by his bodyguards. But nothing seemed like a good excuse to talk to the leader. You ended up going back to the coffee shop with no ideas and three hours of sleep.

After three cups of espresso, you were finally awake and ready to go back to working on one of your notes. The lady who ran the shop was always nice to you, bringing you some free cupcakes from time to time.

“I’m just grateful to have a client, that’s all.” You almost felt bad for her. The leader was nowhere to be seen, and you honestly wanted to go home as soon as possible. So you packed your stuff and waved goodbye the old lady as usual. You received a call from Jaemin on your way to the bus stop.

“Any good news?”

“Well, I saw him yesterday. But apart from that, nothing.” You bumped into someone. “Sorry.” You looked up, only to find yourself in front of the man you’d wanted to meet for the past few weeks.

He was smirking the slightest, looking down at you while his bodyguards slightly pushed you away from him, using their arms to keep you at a safe distance.

“It’s okay, boys.”

“I’ll call you later Jaemin.” You hung up, your hands shaking.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing at such a dangerous place?” He pushed his bodyguards to the side.

“I-I like the coffee shop back there.” You tried to sound as confident as possible.

“I see.” He smiled before removing his dark sunglasses, revealing a pair of cute doe eyes. Definitely not what you were expecting. “What’s your name, darling?”

‘Should I give him a fake name? No, he’d probably find out. But what if he does a background check on me and finds out I’m a journalist?’ You stared at him with wide eyes while you sorted out your options.

“I’m y/n.” You extended your hand, earning a collective gasp from the men surrounding you. “What’s your name?”

“There’s no need for you to know it.” He shook your hand with a wide smile. “Do you need a ride home?”

It’d be a terrific opportunity to get some information, but then again, he was a stranger. An extremely dangerous stranger. What if he kidnapped you and sold your organs in the black market? Your mom didn’t raise an idiot.

“I appreciate the offer, sir. But I rather take the bus. Good night.”

‘What an interesting little thing.’ Taeyong thought as you walked away.

He spent the next few days trying to gather information about you, but he couldn’t find anything, not even your age or last name. It was frustrating.

You, on the other side, decided not to tell anything to your boss until you had some solid information. That meant going back to the coffee shop.

The lady greeted you cheerfully as always. Your legs found their way to your usual spot by the window.

The day went by slowly, nothing new happened except for the fact that the lady gave you cookies instead of a cupcake this time.

The little bell on the door rang, announcing a new client. Out of pure curiosity, you lifted your gaze from the laptop. A gasp escaped your mouth as you saw the gang leader greet the lady and approach you with a wide smile.

He was wearing his usual sunglasses, but instead of his formal clothing, he was wearing a grey sweatshirt with jeans. He almost looked normal.

“Good evening, darling.”

“Hi.” Was the only answer that came out from your mouth. He never entered the shop, was it because of you?

“Can I take a seat?” You nodded.

He removed his glasses as soon as he was sitting comfortably on the wooden chair. It was amazing how fast he could go from looking like an intimidating man to a fluff ball. ‘Maybe he wears the glasses to look less cute. Yeah, I should probably write that down on my journal later.’ Conversations with yourself were now a habit since you didn’t have any coworker to talk with.

“So, y/n. How old are you?” The atmosphere seemed somehow more intimate now that he’d said your name.

“There’s no need for you to know it.” You replied, quoting his words from last night.

“Witty, I like it.” He laced his fingers, supporting his chin on them as he spoke. “No one has ever talked to me like that.”

He didn’t seem upset, which encouraged you to keep talking.

“I’ll make you an offer.” You closed your laptop, putting any distractions aside. “I’ll answer your questions as long as you answer mine. Deal?”

Taeyong was once again impressed with your boldness.

“Alright, deal.” He softly smiled, waiting for you to talk first.

“What’s your name?”

“Taeyong.” You nodded, repeating it inside your head so you wouldn’t forget it. “How old are you?”

“I’m 23. And you?”

“25. Where were you born?”

You answered to each other’s questions, careful not to give away to much information.

“What’s your job?”

“Let’s say I’m a businessman.” Well that was specific. “What about you?”

“Let’s say I’m a writer.” The screen of your phone lit up as you received a message from Jaemin.

‘How’s your mission going?’ You quickly grabbed the device, afraid that Taeyong would ask you about it. But he was busy looking at your face, appreciating every little detail. From the mole under your right eye to the tiniest pores in your skin.

You quickly typed ‘ttyl’ and turned off the phone, preventing any future messages from your coworker.

“Would you like to go on a date with me?” Your breath hitched.

“We met yesterday.”

“But I like you.”

“Uhm, it’s getting late, I better get going.” You smiled awkwardly before exiting the small building.

(...)

“Are you stupid?” Your boss spat out with a seemingly calm voice. “This could’ve been our chance.”

“I’m sorry, sir. But my safety comes first.”

“If he wanted to harm you he would’ve done it from the moment he met you.” He had a point. “You better find him again or you can bid goodbye your precious job.”

After your little “meeting” with your boss, you threw up at the nearest bathroom, pushing aside everyone who got on your way.

It happened every time you were under stress, and frankly, you hated it. You just wanted to quit your job, but it’d be hard for a rookie journalist like you to get a nice job.

“Maybe you should take a self defense course or something.” Jaemin mentioned while trying to cheer you up, sitting outside of the convenience store near your office.

“Maybe I should buy a weapon. A taser for example.” You sipped on your strawberry milk, the sweet flavor filling your mouth. Your head found it’s way to Jaemin’s shoulder, using it as a pillow.

A loud ‘bing’ interrupted your peaceful moment. You prayed it wasn’t your boss again.

‘I didn’t know you had a boyfriend, darling.’ Your first instinct was to look around, searching for Taeyong. But he was nowhere to be found.

‘Where are you?’

‘I’m right in front of you, darling.’ Indeed, he was looking at you from the back seat of his armored car, smiling cockily while pushing his sunglasses further down his nose bridge. ‘Why don’t you come join me?’

“You look like you’ve just seen your grandmother’s ghost.” Jaemin muttered while looking at you.

“He’s here, Jaems. I need to go.” He nodded comprehensively before you got up from the rusty metal bench you were sitting on. You walked towards his van with both of your hands inside your pockets, regretting not having worn a pair of gloves in the morning.

“Hop in.”

“How did you get my number?” You asked, facing him from the other side of the door.

“Get in and I’ll answer all of your questions. Deal?” That cocky smile of his was starting to annoy the shit out of you.

“Fine.” You walked around the vehicle to reach for the opposite door, smoothly sliding into it. The scent of his cologne filled the wide space. “How did you get my number?”

“Take us to the coffee shop on the 5th Avenue.” You moved uncomfortably on the cold leather seat. “Do you want me to turn the heater on?”

“You haven’t answered my question.”

“I have my ways of getting information, darling. But I must admit, it was hard for me to find anything about you.” He spoke as he pressed a button to turn your seat’s heater on. “Better?”

“Thank you.” You were worried he might have discovered about your job, but judging by the fact that he was smiling so sincerely to you, he probably hadn’t. “Why are we going to the coffee shop?”

“I just want to spend some time with you, that’s all.”

“But I didn’t agree to it.” The smile on his lips dropped, discouraged by the possibility of you not wanting to be with him.

“Sorry, we can stop the car if you’re uncomfortable.”

“I’ll go. But just so you know, I always carry pepper spray with me.” He laughed. It was such a unique and contagious laugh that you couldn’t help but to smile. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, it’s just that no one had ever talked to me like that.” You nodded while tucking your hands under your legs, attempting to defrost your fingers. “Give me your hands.” You reluctantly extended them. He removed his own gloves to put them on you.

“But your hands are gonna be cold.”

“Don’t worry, we’re almost there.”

You would’ve never expected for a gang leader to be so...kind. He helped you down the car, pulling one of your hands into his pocket.

“Is this okay?” How could you say no to such an adorable face? You nodded, feeling his long fingers tracing patterns over the wool glove. “Is it weird that I’ve fallen for you in such a short amount of time?” He’d never had such feelings before, it felt like the butterflies in his stomach would come flying out of his mouth at any moment.

“Yes, it is a bit odd.” You let him hold your hand, somehow comforted by his warmth. “But everything about you seems to be odd, so it’s okay I guess.”

“So I guess you wouldn’t mind if I asked you on a date again?” You suddenly recalled the conversation with your boss. You had to accept this time.

“I suppose we can have a date.”

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel attracted to Taeyong. Maybe it was his laugh, or the way his doe eyes would sparkle every time he’d look at you. But your work came first, and you were close to getting useful information from him.

“So, where are you from?” He asked, his chin resting on his palm. You’d noticed it was a habit of his to adopt said position when questioning you.

“That’s a secret.” A secret you had to protect with your life if you didn’t want him to know your identity.

“Fair enough.”

(...)

It had been a month since you started “officially” dating Taeyong. He seemed like a normal guy, which often made you question if your boss hadn’t mistaken his identity. But it was on your month anniversary that you discovered your boss was damn right.

“Welcome to my house.” ‘Welcome to my house? More like welcome to my palace.’

“This looks like the palace of Versailles.” You whispered, mesmerized with the ethereal paintings on the ceilings. “Your house looks familiar.” You hummed.

“You like it?” He hugged your waist with one arm, taking your chin between his fingers and forcing you to look at him.

“I mean, sure. It’s amazing.” He chuckled, leaning in to kiss your lips before you abruptly escaped his embrace. Taeyong couldn’t help but to sigh, he wanted to taste your pretty lips so bad, but you’d always find an excuse to avoid him. You walked down the hallway, admiring the paintings hung up on his wall, until you saw a picture of him. An elegant, blonde woman standing at one of his sides, while at the opposite side, a well known man stood.

“Mr. Lee?” You asked to yourself. You’d once written a note on him and his empire, he was one of your boss’s acquaintances.

“Oh, you know my dad?” You felt like fainting due to the excitement, you finally had valuable information.

“The whole city knows your dad.”

“I guess so.” He shrugged before pulling your arm. “Let’s continue with my house tour.” The mansion had at least twenty bedrooms, all of them the size of you apartment to say the least. But the most impressive room, by far, was Taeyong’s room.

“It used to be my parents’ room, but since they moved out I’ve taken it for myself.” He laid down on the bed, tapping his extended arm for you to lay on. “Don’t be shy.” You reluctantly let your body sink into the softness of the matress, Taeyong’s arms cuddling you while he whispers ‘I love you’, hoping you’ll say it back. But you don’t.

“It’s okay, darling. I’m a patient man.” He’d always say.

“Boss, we’ve got an-” A tall man entered the room, cutting himself of as he saw your figures.

“What did I say about knocking the door, John?” His harsh voice tone caused your eyebrows to furrow.

“I’m sorry, boss. But this is urgent.” You tried to remember every single word they said, hoping you’d be able to write them in your journal later.

“Fine.” He scoffed, turning his head to you and pecking your nose. “I’ll be back soon, baby. Don’t leave the room, just call the butler through that phone if you need anything.” The man in front of you seemed extremely confused with the situation, not being used to see his boss in a soft mood. “Let’s go.”

As soon as the door was closed, Taeyong spoke.

“She’s my girlfriend, I don’t want any of you around her. Am I clear?”

“Yes, boss. But if you allow me, how can we assure she isn’t trying to get information?” Taeyong grabbed him by the collar, his true personality making an appearance.

“If you ever bath mouth my girlfriend again I’ll cut your tongue.” Johnny knew he was damn capable of doing it, so he decided to keep his thoughts to himself. “What’s the emergency you were talking about?” The grip on his shirt loosened, resuming their walk to the stairs.

“We found one of Nakamoto’s rats snooping around. He’s in the basement.” Taeyong nodded. “What should we do with him?”

“Maybe we should send his boss a little gift.” That little smirk was one of Johnny’s worst nightmares, it meant something extremely bloody was about to happen. They reached the ground floor, walked towards the kitchen where the fridge had been moved, revealing a hidden metallic door. You, on the other side, used your time to text Jaemin. ‘I’m in. Meet me tomorrow morning at our secret spot.’ To which he responded with a smiley face. By secret spot you meant the convenience store in front of your office.

You placed your head close to the wooden door, patiently waiting to hear footsteps or any sound at all. But even after ten minutes, there was nothing. So you carefully opened the door, pepper spray on your right hand while you peeked through a small opening. After making sure no one was close, you fully exited the bedroom, ready to explore your surroundings. That was until you heard a loud thud coming from the ground floor.

“Huh?” You feet moved by themselves, going down the stairs careful not to make any sound. You walked towards the sound, which became louder with every step you took. It wasn’t long till you found yourself in front of the big metallic door, the weird noises coming from inside giving you goosebumps. The door creaked under your palm as you pushed it open, the sounds of muffled screams now getting clearer. Your opposite hand gripped the small pepper spray, your thumb ready to press the button in case of emergency.

“What should we send to Mr. Nakamoto? Maybe one of your fingers? An ear? Oh, I know. Your head will be the perfect gift, don’t you think?”

“What do you think you’re doing?” A hand grabbed your shoulder, making you jolt and fall down the remaining steps.

“A-ah.” You winced, your eyes shut tightly due to the pain.

“Y/n.” He dropped the knife he was holding, immediately running up to your curled up body. “I’m gonna kill you if something happens to her, Johnny.”

“How is this my fault? You told her to stay in the bedroom!” Taeyong gave him a warning look before he lifted your body. Carrying it all the way upstairs before you could catch a glimpse of the situation downstairs.

“Why did you come out? Something bad could’ve happened.” He wasn’t angry, more like extremely concerned.

“What was going on there? Why do you have a secret door?”

“Let’s take care of your wounds first. I promise to tell you everything later.”

Taeyong kept his promise, applying antiseptic on your open wounds while he told you every detail about his job.

“My father used to run this business, his real estate company was just an easy way to cover it. He retired a few years ago, that’s when I took over. But it wasn’t until five months ago he gave me complete freedom to do whatever I pleased.” He placed a band aid over one of your small scratches, kissing the wound gently afterwards. “We deliver packages mainly on the alley near that coffee shop you like.” You faked surprise.

“So all those dead bodies...that was you?” You were uncapable of hiding the fear you felt. You knew the truth all along, but hearing it from his own mouth was a different story.

“Yes. Most of them were part of rival gangs, trying to get information from our business.” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed nervously. “Will you still like me after this?” You wanted to say it was because of your job that you wanted to stay with him. But part of you knew that wasn’t the only reason.

“Yes.” You reached for his hand. Taeyong was taken aback, you were never one to start physical contact. “But you can’t keep secrets from me anymore. You need to be honest with me.” Said the woman who’d been lying to him since you met.

“I will be. Just promise you’ll never leave me.” He pulled you into a hug, smelling the lavender scent from your shampoo. That scent that made him feel so calm.

“I promise.” For now, at least. You still didn’t have enough information to go back to you boss. You let yourself get caught in the moment, sliding your hands up his back and hugging him as well.

“I love you.” He said again, hoping this time you’d say it back.

“I know.”

Taeyong sighed before loosening his embrace.

“I need to go downstairs to check up on some stuff.” He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, admiring your beautiful doll-like face. “Please, stay in the room.”

“Are you gonna...kill him?”

“He saw your face. If we let him go you’ll be in danger, and I can’t let that happen, darling.” He pecked your forehead. “I’ll be back, soon.”

A man was about to lose his life because of you. The thought kept haunting you even after Taeyong went downstairs, making sure to send some of his men to guard the bedroom door. You cuddled into the bedsheets, trying to get rid of your concerns. But nothing worked, your mind creating all sorts of wicked scenarios of that man getting killed.

‘Why did the boss have to choose me?’

“Y/n.” A hand rubbed on your shoulder. “It’s getting late. Come on, I’ll take you home.” You shook your head, not wanting to be alone at the moment. “What’s wrong babe?”

“Can I stay for the night?” Taeyong frowned at first, but then proceeded to kiss your cheek while combing your hair with his fingers.

“You can stay as long as you want, darling.” He went straight to his wardrobe, retrieving a pair of sweats and a hoodie. “It gets a little chilly in here after midnight. I’ll be in the room across the hall in case you need anything.” You held onto his hand tightly, stopping him from taking anymore steps away from you.

“W-wait.” The whole purpose of staying at his house was because you didn’t want to be alone. “Aren’t you gonna stay with me?”

“Do you want me to?” First, a hug from you, and now this. Taeyong’s day was definitely getting better and better.

“Yes.”

You both changed into more comfortable clothes. His baby blue hoodie smelled just like him, like a weird mixture of lavender and lemon. You laid down facing him, his arms wrapped around your waist as he waited for the right moment to speak. Your eyes examines every single part of his face. The scar beside his right eye caught your attention.

“How did you get this?” You fingers gently touched the damaged skin. “A fight with one of your rivals?”

“Actually.” He smiled. “I used to have atopy as a kid.” You’d expected a more dramatic answer.

“Oh.” You nodded, coming closer to his face to take a better look at the scar. ��I think it’s cute.” Unconsciously, you pecked it.

“I think you’re cute.” He hugged your waist tighter, pulling you closer to his body. “Can I kiss you?” You nodded, gaze fixated on the way his soft lips would move every time he speaked. He was slow at first, making sure the kiss was something you wanted as well. But the moment your lips started moving against his, all his self control dissapeared.

“I love you.” He repeated for what seemed the hundredth time in the day. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” Maybe you were just to caught up in the moment, that’s what you so desperately wanted to believe.

Taeyong smiled against your lips, sliding his hand down to grab a handful of your ass.

“Can you show me how much?” He grinded against your core, stealing a gasp from you.

“Taeyong.” How heavenly his name sounded in your lips. “I want you.”

“I know baby.” He slid your his sweats down as well as your underwear, sneaking a hand between your bodies to caress your lower lips. “I’ve been waiting for so long to show you just how much I love you.” You moaned as two of his long fingers entered you, curling them to reach for your sweet spot.

“I feel l-like I’m the only one receiving something here.” You held onto his silver locks.

“Shhh.” He peppered kisses all over your face as his pace increased. “Let me make you feel good, okay?” Your high came faster and more intense than usual. Taeyong cooed at you, retrieving his fingers to pull down his own sweats

“I’m on the pill, you don’t have to wear a condom.” He nodded, pushing his member through your tight hole as carefully as he could. He helped you to lay on your back, thrusting slowly into you while lacing your fingers together. Taeyong was ashamed to confess he was about to come after a few seconds of being inside you, but your hole clenched around him so deliciously that he couldn’t help it.

“I’m close.” He whispered as his lips made their way to your neck, sucking a mark on the soft skin.

“Me too.” You hugged his bare hips with your legs, feeling another huge wave of pleasure wash over your whole body. “Tae.” He shot his seed deep inside of you. He was about to pull out, but your embrace forced him to stay inside of you, his weight crushing you as he completely laid down on your small body.

“Do you want to stay like this?”

“You said it get’s chilly after midnight, and you’re pretty warm.” He couldn’t help but to smile, skillfully turning your bodies around so you were laying on top of him.

“Good night, sweetheart. I love you.”

“Good night, Tae. I love you too.” His heart swelled with affection as he drifted to sleep with you between his arms.

(...)

“You look so dumb right now.” Jaemin said as he looked at your pink, strawberry sweater. You sat in front of the convenience store you’d usually meet in.

“Shut up, Taeyong bought it for me on our five month anniversary, it was yesterday.” You smiled fondly at the fabric protecting you from the cold weather. “He’s really sweet.”

“The boss has been asking for you.” You felt like vomiting. “I think it’s time for you to come back to the office, we both know you have more than enough information.”

“I can’t do that to Taeyong, Jaemin.” You shook your head, tapping your shoes against the ground. “I’m gonna give the boss my letter of resignation today.”

“But you love your job.” He shook his head before you could even speak. “If you say something cheesy like ‘I love him more’ I’ll punch you.”

“I’m sorry.” You grabbed his hand. “I hope we can still be friends.”

“Of course we can.” He hugged your shoulders. “Come on, I’ll walk you to the building.”

Your boss wasn’t at his office, some of your coworkers said he went out for lunch. It was easier for you to just leave the letter without having to deal with his scolding. You said one last goodbye to everyone before exiting the building. You didn’t expect to find Taeyong outside of the building, waiting for you with a small frown.

“What are you doing here?” He said with a small hint of anger in his voice. “Isn’t this the place where that local newspaper is printed?”

“T-tae, I was just-”

“Fucking liar.” He clenched his jaw. “Get in the car, now.” Tears streamed down your face as you entered the vehicle. “Crying won’t save you from anything, darling. You know what we do to traitors like you?” You shook your head, trying to get him to make eye contact with you. “You’ll find out.”

“Let me explain, please.” You sobbed. “I didn’t tell them anything, I just quit my job.”

“I don’t believe you.” He looked at you, your eyes getting red from crying and your small hands gripping the soft fabric of your sweater.

Despite knowing the truth about you, all he wanted to do was to hug you, to tell you everything was fine. But he couldn’t. The trip to his house was filled with your pleads, begging him to believe you. Taeyong felt like his heart was getting stabbed everytime he’d hear you sob.

“Shut your fucking mouth before I cut your tongue off.” Your breath hitched. You sat still, afraid to make any move. It wasn’t until you felt a tug on your sweater you realized you’d arrived to your destination.

“Miss, you need to come down.” You nodded, taking a deep breath before exiting the vehicle.

The driver guided you all the way to the hidden basement, which you’d only seen once. Taeyong wasn’t there, but Johnny was. He had a pair of black latex gloves and stood in front of a large wooden chair. It looked like the ones used to execute people.

“Take a sit, y/n.” His usual grin was gone as he talked. You had no other option but to do as he said, tensing up as he restrained your wrists and legs.

“Johnny?” He hummed. “Is Taeyong alright?” He laughed bitterly.

“You’re worried about him right now? I’m impressed.” The blade of his sharp knife traced the skin of your jawline. “You should worry about yourself.” He pressed the cold metal harder against you, making you whince. He removed the blade from your neck, letting the thick, red liquid roll down from your wound to stain your pretty sweater.

“Taeyong didn’t give me any instructions on what to do with you.” He took a few steps back, leaving the knife in a metal table. He picked up a metal rod instead. “But I’m guessing he doesn’t want you dead.” He played nervously with the object. “I’m sorry, y/n.” He said before beating your ribs with it. The scream that came out from your lips didn’t even sound like yours.

He kept hitting you with the rod at least ten more times before stopping. His features were filled with regret, but his job wasn’t done yet. His new target was your right hand, you begged for him to stop, but he didn’t.

Before the object could touch your hand, a loud gunshot interrupted him, followed by steps coming down to your location.

“We need your help John, it’s Nakamoto.” He dropped the rod. “They’re too many.”

“I’m coming.” He kneeled down in front of you. “I need you to stay quiet if you don’t want to get killed.” But you couldn’t help the small whines coming out of your mouth, even breathing hurt at this point. “I’m really sorry.”

You were left alone in the room, trying your best to keep quiet, but the pain in your ribs was piercing. All you wanted to do was to curl up and cry.

“There’s someone inside.” You heard a manly voice whisper, immediately followed by more gunshots and steps.

“Oh my god, you’re fine.” Taeyong found you, still tied up to the chair and quietly crying. He released you, pulling your arm to help you stand up, earning a loud whine from you. “What is it?”

“M-my ribs.” You hugged yourself slightly, attempting to ease the piercing pain.

“Let me see.” He removed your arms, lifting your sweater to reveal the purple skin. You weren’t able to see your injuries, but Taeyong assured you it was fine. “You’re alright, I need you to stand up for me, okay?”

“Taeyong, I’m sorry.” You kept muttering. “I’m so sorry.”

“If you’re really sorry then come with me.” You summoned all of your remaining strength to get your legs to work, walking as fast as you could.

You found yourself in front of a man on your way out. He didn’t look like one of Taeyong’s gang members. He pulled out a gun, pointing it directly at Taeyong, but you were faster than him, embracing him as you felt something impact on your back. Taeyong pulled out his own gun, quickly shooting the other male.

“Y/n.” He held you between his arms as he tried to stop the bleeding in your right shoulder, relieved the bullet hadn’t reached any of your vital organs. “I know it hurts, baby, but you need to keep walking for me, okay?”

“I can’t.” Your knees gave in and Taeyong had no other option but to carry you. He successfully walked across the battlefield and reached for his car, only to be pulled down by someone else. You rolled out of his arms, your ribs making contact with the hard concrete and making you scream in pain.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Taeyong and his sweet little girlfriend.” A man with weird accent said before grabbing your boyfriend by the collar. “I wanted to say that I personally disliked your gift. But I thought, maybe I could return the favor by sending your head to your father. I bet he’d really love that.”

“Run, y/n.”

“Awww, how sweet of you.” The man grabbed a handful of his hair, forcing his head back. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of her after I finish with you. The boys have been really stressed this past few weeks. I bet she’d be a really nice fuck doll.”

“Don’t you dare, Yuta.” He tried to pull out his gun, but his rival easily snatched it away from him, carelessly throwing it near you. He pulled out a knife from his pocket, placing it directly over Taeyong’s neck. You dragged yourself to reach for the weapon, still completely unnoticed by Yuta.

“You should say goodbye to your-” A bullet pierced through his chest, blood splattering all over Taeyong’s face. The man’s limp body fell backwards, revealing Johnny holding a gun right behind him. Taeyong turned to you, an arm extended while your fingers grazed at the weapon. Blood was still leaking from your wound.

“Darling.” He quickly got up, taking you between his arms once again. “I need to take her to the hospital.”

“Don’t worry, we got the situation under control.” Taeyong nodded before laying you down over the backseats of his car.

He drove as fast as he could, exceeding the speed limits and earning a few honks from nearby cars. But it was all worth it when he saw the nurses taking you into the operation room to heal your wounds.

(...)

“She’s waking up.” Someone whispered while your eyes fluttered open, the bright sunlight forcing you to close them again.

“Darling?” Taeyong held onto your hand tightly. “Are you okay?”

You hummed, attempting to open your eyes again, this time catching a glimpse of a red eyed Taeyong right beside your bed.

“Tae?” He let out a relieved sigh, cupping your cheeks and pulling you into a kiss right afterwards.

“You’re alright now baby, you’re safe with me.”

#nct smut #nct au #nct imagines #nct x reader #nct scenarios #nct ot21 #nct #nct 127 #nct fluff #nct angst

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perfectpaperbluebirds · 4 years

Text

A Virus for the Vicar

Guess what... I inspired myself with this post to write my first drabble! Also, this had to be written because @gr0ss-enby asked so nicely, and @oh-no-my-hand-slipped had such awesome sickly Victorian prompts. So, here’s ~3000 words of a flu-ridden, regency-era clergyman.

Feedback welcome! But please be a little gentle. This is my first short fic, as short isn’t usually my jam. But maybe it will be going forward, as I had a lot of fun with this one.

*****

Lydia Lennox sat darning her husband’s stockings in the sitting room, humming idly as she stitched. She was startled out of her reverie by a commotion on the stairs. It seemed her husband, the vicar, was coming down in a rush. As this was usually the hour he usually closed himself away in his study to prepare his sermon, she was concerned. She rose to see what was the matter, but he appeared in the doorway just then, buttoning his coat with one hand as he held a handkerchief to his streaming nose.

“Mrs. Ames is being buried today. I must go perform the service,” he said with a sniffle. “I shut my eyes but a moment in my study and it seems I fell asleep, and now I am behind my time. I must dash.”

She bit her lip as she looked outside at the chillyA, drenching rain that had been falling for days. She knew he would not be dissuaded from going, despite the dreadful cold he had picked up, so she refrained from voicing her concern. He would only become frustrated if she tried to stop him. After all, burials were part of his duty as a clergyman.

“Do take care, Mr. Lennox. Come back as quick as you can. I’ll have tea waiting for you.” She forced herself to leave it at that.

His only reply was a sharp nod and a grunt as he strode to the door. He pulled it quickly open, then shut again, taking himself, hoarse voice and chapped nose and all, out into the downpour.

Lydia seated herself again with a sigh and resumed her mending, spending some time musing about her husband of 5 years. If one were to meet the vicar by chance, or only saw him on Sundays when he preached, that person would think him a stern man, or even a harsh one. It was true that he held himself to the strictest standards as a member of the clergy, and that carried into his interactions with everyone he met. He could be severe and intractable when he was in one of his moods, expecting perfection from himself and everyone else. There were times his eyes burned with such fire when he was preaching that she herself was a little fearful of him.

Yet she also saw the tenderness in every inch of his frame when he baptized an infant, or blessed a child, or took the hand of an elderly person to greet them. She got to witness firsthand his serenity as he tended his garden, his boyishness when he was spending time with his brother, and his gentleness and devotion during their own intimate interactions.

He often seemed fierce, keeping most people, including herself at times, at arm’s length in deference to his duty as a man of the church, always mindful of how he might be perceived by his parishioners. Yet she knew there was more to him, and she loved him passionately, for all his own fiery passion for righteousness and zeal for his duty.

~~~~~~~~~~

Some hours later, the door banged open, and the steady patter of water dripping off of a coat onto the floor of the foyer heralded the vicar’s return. That, and a thick, wet sneeze.

“HET’kiihh’shuuh! HET’chooff! “HEHHHT-CHOOO!”

She rang for the tea she had prepared for him, then hurried to his side, blessing him in earnest as she helped him remove his sodden coat. His hair and clothes hung limply on him, and he stood dejectedly, trying to wring himself out, his handkerchief again pressed to his nose.

“Oh, my dear! Go quickly and put on some dry things. I’ll have your tea brought up to you there. You look half-frozen.”

“That I am,” he croaked wearily. “And half drowned at that. Never saw such a muddy burial. But the good woman is laid to rest as she should be, and that’s what matters.”

“Indeed,” she said, refraining from sighing. “But now go and tend to yourself, for that is what is called for here.”

“As you say,” he grunted. “I’ll be back down in time for supper, but for now I’ll go to my study. I need to catch up on my reading. The whole day is nearly gone as it is.”

“Couldn’t you take some rest? I’m sure the reading could wait another day.”

“There’s no need for it to wait when I can do it now just the same. As I said, I’ll be down for supper.”

He shuffled wearily to the stairs, coughing wetly as he went.

Once again she bit her tongue and said nothing further. When his mind was made up, there was no arguing with him. So, she went about the usual dinner preparations, fretting the whole time, and all the more so every time she heard him cough or sneeze, which was not infrequently.

Always true to his word, he reemerged 5 minutes before supper was to be laid out, looking drier but otherwise no better. He shivered faintly in the temperate air, wiping wetness away from his eyes and upper lip. She wished she could go hug him, and offer him any and every comfort she could, for he looked miserable, but she knew he would not allow it. She kept her eyes averted for the most part and tried not to fuss, for he would be quite embarrassed if she did. When the food was laid out, they seated themselves. They bowed their heads and he said grace as he usually did, though his voice was jarringly different. His usually rich, mellow tone was husky and strained, his consonants dulled with congestion and fatigue. Even before the final hoarse “ambend,” she wanted to reach for his hand and squeeze it, and tell him it was fine to not be fine. That he wasn’t any less even though he felt unwell. That she was here for him, no matter what.

The meal was a quiet one, aside from his stifled sneezes and soft coughs. After one particularly harsh stifle, she timidly looked up at him.

“You sound unwell, my dear. Is there anything I could get for you?”

“No,” he shot back quickly, averting his eyes and stuffing his handkerchief out of sight. “No, I’m fine, thank you. Just a bit under the weather is all.”

“Please do let me know if there’s any way I can be of help to you,” she bravely tried once more. He fidgeted with his fork, still turned away.

“You are always a help to me, dear. But I am in need of nothing just now.”

She quickly nodded, then let her own eyes drop to her plate. They ate in silence until they were finished, then retired to the sitting room, he with a book and she with her needlework. This is how they ended their evenings, in companionable silence or quiet conversation until they went to bed. Tonight though, she knew there would be no conversation. They had both perched on the settee, only a few feet apart, and she quenched the urge to close the distance between them and rub his shoulders and neck. He allowed minimal physical contact between them anywhere besides their bedroom. The servants were watching, after all.

As she sewed, she watched him in her periphery. He looked to be absorbed in his book, but through the entire hour they sat, he did not turn a single page. She studied his profile fondly, if also worriedly: His long longs, stretched out, but limp with weariness, his fine brow, now clammy-looking, his deep eyes, hazy with illness, and his well-shaped nose, the tip of it red and glistening. Every line of him spoke of fatigue. As she watched, she saw his eyelids drooping even as he fought against it.

She knew he would not go to bed before she, no matter how tired and ill he felt. It was improper. So, she feigned fatigue herself, yawning softly and stretching, before announcing she wanted to retire, almost an hour earlier than usual.

He looked startled, but grateful as he offered to accompany her, and of course she accepted.

They made their way upstairs, and he seemed to be moving almost in a daze. As they prepared for bed, his fingers were clumsy, and he was hampered by having to tend to his constantly dripping nose. She hovered at his elbow as he went through the motions, silently imploring him to admit how he was feeling and allow her to assist. Of course, he did not.

Once they were both in their night clothes, she watched him as he lingered, sitting on the edge of the bed and blowing his nose. She perched at his side so their knees touched; he shifted his away.

"You look quite ill, my dear. Pray tell, how can I help you?" She began to gently caress his back, a gesture she knew he loved when he was weary.

Yet he twitched away from her touch, a flash of anger in his eyes.

"Leave me be! I'm alright. I’m only in need of a good night’s sleep."

With a huff he yanked back the bed clothes and proceeded to cover himself with them, keeping his back to her whenever he could.

Now she was frustrated too. With a scowl she moved to her own side of the bed.

"Your stubbornness will be the death of you, Nicholas Lennox. Just because you're miserable, you needn't make me so as well, when I'm only wanting to help. But have it your own way."

He did not reply, and continued to keep his back to her. She turned away from him as well when she lay down. They both held themselves stiffly still, as far apart on the bed as they could be, until they fell asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~

This was not the case when they woke, however. Upon opening her eyes the next morning, Lydia found she had rolled onto her back as she slept. Looking around as she roused herself, she was startled to find her husband still fast asleep beside her. Usually it was his stirring that woke her each day, or the sound of the door shutting behind him as he left.

Nicholas too had shifted in his sleep, and was lying on his stomach, his face toward her, his arm stretched across the center of the bed and resting an inch from her shoulder, as if he was reaching for her.

Any hard feelings that lingered from the night before instantly melted as she watched him sleep. He looked so pitiful and pale, and she heard his breath wheezing in his chest. As she stared, deciding what to do, he suddenly twitched once, then again, then he sprang awake, pressing a hand to his nose, but too late:

"Hehhgg'CHOOOF!" A wet, spraying sneeze exploded out of him, down the front of his shirt. He scrabbled desperately for his handkerchief, his breath hitching for another sneeze as he turned away from her. He couldn't grasp it in time.

"Hih-KIHT-chuuhh! Heht'kih'SHOO!" He sneezed miserably into his elbow, rough sneezes that seemed to scrape his throat harshly as they were expelled. He grabbed his handkerchief at last in a defeated sort of way, and wiped and blew his nose. With a weary groan he fell back against his pillow, throwing an arm over his eyes.

She watched this whole performance with widened eyes. All the years they'd been married, she had never seen him ill like this. She observed him for another moment, then nodded to herself, her mind made up. Regardless of how he would fuss, she was making him rest today, no matter what it took. She opened her mouth to address him when he again jerked forward, breath hitching desperately, handkerchief over his mouth:

"Hiihh'shieww! Hnnxxt'CHUUF! AhKT-CHOOOO! Oh blast it all," he mumbled thickly, the closest he ever came to cursing. He gingerly wiped his poor, red nose, eyes scrunched closed in pain. Yet he would have no rest, for he immediately began to cough.

She crossed the distance between them on the bed to put a hand to his shoulder. He jumped in fright, as though he'd forgotten he wasn't alone. Upon seeing it was her, he relaxed slightly, and didn't pull away, but acknowledged her with a little grunt. Encouraged by this, she pressed against his side and began to rub his back tenderly. He groaned softly in pleasure as she did, letting more of his weight rest against her. After a moment he had to hunch forward to stifle another hoarse coughing fit into his arm before leaning back into her touch, rubbing his chest with a grimace.

He was overwarm. She could feel the heat through his shirt. She pressed her palm to his forehead, then his cheek, clucking her tongue softly.

"I am most poorly today. Every inch of me aches or burns. My head pounds so, I can hardly think," he muttered, answering her question before she had to ask it.

"I shouldn't wonder, with how high your fever is. You're not to leave these rooms today and I'll not hear any argument."

"As you say," he mumbled with a cough.

She wanted to be suspicious of his unexpected pliability, but looking at him, she only saw misery in every feature, so perhaps he was simply feeling badly enough not to complain.

She pressed a kiss to his hot temple. "Lay yourself back down and rest while I dress, then we'll see what we can do for you. We'll ring for tea, for starters." She rose, donning her dressing gown. "And I may have Dr. Barcliffe call 'round as well. I don't like the sound of that cough one bit," she said, as he erupted into another hoarse fit.

"There's no need to involve Dr. Barcliffe," he croaked, lying back down with a wince, rubbing his chest again. "I shouldn't want to be a bother."

"Hm," she murmured, moving to his side. She brushed the sweaty hair from his forehead, and he sighed in pleasure at her touch, his eyes drifting closed. "We'll see how it goes. But I shouldn't think tending to the vicar would be a bother to the doctor."

If he heard, he did not reply, and seemed to fall asleep again immediately. She dressed efficiently, and just as she finished, one of the servants arrived with a tray of tea and toast. The commotion roused the sick man, and he shook himself awake with another bout of hacking coughs as the servant departed. Lydia moved to his side and rubbed his back again. He leaned his head into her side wearily as he quieted.

"Poor man, I've never seen you so ill. It seems you've picked up something nasty--likely from your niece and nephew last week. I thought they were looking a bit peaky, and there you were, rolling around on the floor with them."

A muffled grunt was his only reply. She served his tea, and helped him sit up to drink it, though he tried to protest.

"I'd rather not take tea now. I only want to sleep some more hours yet."

"You must drink aplenty today. You'll only feel worse if you don't. We can't have you getting parched."

He mumbled a few more weak arguments, but when she pressed the streaming cup into his hands, he obediently drank. Of course, the hot beverage made his nose run in earnest, but he seemed too weary to care. She plied him with toast also, but he only managed a few bites, claiming his throat was too raw and painful to eat any more. With a sigh, she set it aside.

He was visibly trembling as he finished the tea, and the hectic red spots showed ever brighter on his cheeks. She assisted him in lying down once more, and covered him warmly, though they were slowed in the process by yet another coughing fit. She let her hand linger on his arm after he was settled.

"Is there anything else you want, my dear?"

He turned to look at her, his fever-hazed eyes imploring:

"Only to rest a while, with you by my side."

She tilted her head in confusion. "You-you're asking me to sit with you while you sleep?"

He nodded. "I'll sleep better if you're near. Would you come sit beside me, just here on the bed?"

"That I will," she complied willingly, flattered as well as flustered. She would never have expected such a request from her independent, private husband. She hopped up to sit beside him, arranging herself comfortably. She reached out to cover his hand with her own.

"If I could trouble you for one more thing… could I lay my head just there?" He gestured to her lap.

She reddened. "If you think it would help you sleep, I shan't say no. For you do look so miserable, after all," she managed.

"Nothing would help more." They carefully rearranged themselves to his desired configuration. Lydia was quite taken aback by these developments, though they were far from unpleasant. She studied her husband's still form for a bit, making up her mind as he continued to settle. Haltingly, she moved her hand to his head and began to stroke his hair with the lightest touch. His free hand found hers and gave it a grateful squeeze. Encouraged, she continued her ministrations with confidence.

"You're positively trembling with chills," she murmured, almost to herself. "After you rest a while, I'll have Hannah draw you a hot bath. Then a compress for your chest after a long soak I think. How does that suit you?"

A snore was the only reply she would receive, for the dear vicar was already sound asleep.

#snzblr #snzfic #snzario #Sickness #sicknario #sickfic #a touch-starved sickie ❤❤❤#nothing is hotter than sick old-fashioned gentlemen #my ocs

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buckyownsmylife · 4 years

Text

between us - chapter iv

The one where Aaron hurts you, but he knows just how to heal you.

When Hotch comes home one day and takes out his frustrations on you, you’re sent spiraling into a depressive state that you were all too familiarized with. But as your boss and closest friend, he’s the only one who knows how to take care of you during a relapse. His efforts to fix the situation end up awakening a different side of him, a side that might just be precisely what you’ve been missing in a time like that.

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist. PLEASE CHECK THEM.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

In the days that passed, I started to become more and more like myself again. I laughed more frequently, I felt more energetic, and it wasn’t long before Aaron decided I could go back to work.

Seeing Spencer again was nice, but it was undoubtedly weird to try to pretend nothing different was going on between Hotch and I. I mean, I felt like the team had a solid idea of what was happening between us, especially from how firm he was about taking me to his house when I broke down on the jet, but nothing was confirmed yet and I didn’t want it to. It was nice to have something special blossoming and it felt like it was still so intimate and pure, I didn’t want to learn other people’s views about it.

And yet, as I felt myself climb higher and higher from the well I was buried before, I knew it was only a matter of time until I faltered and fell down a few steps. Recovery was something I was used to by now, so relapse was a fact and I was prepared for it. It just didn’t mean that I wasn’t scared or devastated when the itch to hurt myself resurfaced again.

It happened while we were away on my first case since returning to the BAU. I was being aloof and I knew it, but I insisted that I was okay enough to go out on the field. I wanted to prove to myself and everyone else that I could do this.

Boy, was I wrong.

Despite the fact that my distracted manner ended up putting Spencer’s life in danger, everything turned out okay and the unsub was caught. However, as we got stuck in our hotel for the night, since the jet wouldn’t be able to fly us back until the morning, all I could think about was how badly I had screwed up.

And the worst part was that no one shouted or even appeared to be angry at me. They were making sure to keep their true feelings hidden behind a barrier of fake understanding, so I wouldn’t go back to how I used to be, but the absence of an outlet only made it worse.

I could feel the voices rising again. Mocking me. Reminding me of how I couldn’t do anything right. How everyone probably hated me right now. I was spiraling, and quickly. The itch to scratch myself had already appeared and it was only a matter of time until my nails were bloodied.

But then, a knock resonated through the empty bedroom.

“Are you ok?” The sight of Aaron with those impenetrable eyes was enough to start to calm the waves of self-loathing, but I was still on edge. In all truth, I could barely speak, the embarrassment I felt for my own actions today still coursing through me.

“I’m still waiting for you to start screaming at me,” I admitted in a tiny voice, my arms wrapped tightly around myself. A good part of me was hoping for it, so I was prepared for any demonstration of anger that he could throw my way. “I feel like I should be in trouble.”

“That’s never going to happen.” He stepped into the room, hugging me to him as he closed the door behind us. We stayed like that for a while, him tightly holding me to his body as we slowly swayed in the same place. At least it forced my own hands to stay far away from my body.

“I don’t know if that’s a good thing.” It escaped before I could realise I was even thinking about it. Aaron froze in his spot before carefully pulling away from me, his hands holding my head to look deep into my eyes. I felt myself melting despite my current state. He really did have beautiful eyes.

“What do you mean?” Sighing, I pushed him away gently before sitting down on the mattress, running a hand through my face. My mind was all over the place, making it difficult to focus on finding the right words to describe what I was going through at that moment.

“I’m sorry, Aaron.” The tears started rolling then. It all became too much. My failure at work, the fact that I was letting him down, I didn’t know what to do anymore. I felt lost, and soon enough, that asphyxiating weight settled over my chest, making it difficult for me to breathe.

“Sweetheart, talk to me.” Through the gaps between my fingers, I could see that he had knelt in front of me even before he reached for my hands, holding them so I couldn’t use them to hide anymore.

“I hate myself for what I did today, Aaron. I don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve to be in the BAU. God, what if something had happened to Spencer today? I… I have to cut myself, please let me get it out.” I tried to pull my hands from him, my need to scratch myself resurfacing even stronger again, but he held them tightly in his grip, stopping me from doing so.

Aaron’s P.O.V.

As I held onto her hands, I pulled her so she’d look at me again. “Sweetheart, please… Is there anything I could do?” It was so difficult to see the woman I loved like this, reduced to a crying mess, and not being able to help her. My heart physically ached as I held her against my chest, caressing her head in a feeble attempt to calm her down.

“Punish me, Aaron. Yell at me, say you hate me and that I don’t deserve you. Tell me you’re going to kick me out of the team.” Her broken sobs were taking away pieces of my heart little by little.

“I can’t do that, darling. I’m sorry, it wouldn’t be the truth. You don’t deserve to be punished, sweetheart, you made an honest mistake and everyone is entitled to that. I *love you. I could never hate you for something so silly and if anything, I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you. And our team needs you, Y/N. We weren’t complete until you arrived.”

Somehow, those didn’t seem like the right words to say. She literally started to tremble in my arms, a scream of agony leaving her lips. “Darling, tell me what I can do to help you, please. I want to help you.” She tried to free her arms to scratch her skin again, but I managed to hold her hands just in time. Suddenly, an idea struck me. An out-of-place reminder of a conversation held in different times, over a bottle of wine. “Alright, you want to be punished, get up.”

My voice hit the same tone it usually did when we were in the bullpen and I needed the team’s attention, so I quickly got hers. She immediately obeyed me, standing up to stare down at me as I remained seated at the edge of her bed. “I want you over my lap, right now.”

If there was any hesitation on my part about what I was doing, it went out of the window the second she threw herself over my legs. I stopped for a second, pondering over what I was about to do. I had never been one for physical punishment on Jack, since I had personal experience on how scarring that experience could be, but I could recognize this was of an entirely different nature. And despite my inexperience with this sort of sexual relationship before, the tightness in my pants warned me that at least a part of me was satisfied with it.

I ran my fingers through Y/N’s hair, appreciating her tiny shiver, a show of desire instead of pain, until I decided it was time to get on with it. Raising my hand in the air, I allowed it to fall over her backside, only strong enough so she could feel it. Y/N’s hands flew to my thigh, holding herself there so she’d be able to take it and I did it again, with more or less the same impact.

“Harder,” came her plea, and I hesitated only for a bit before obeying her request. Her voice hadn’t trembled for the first time in the evening and hearing it resemble her everyday assertiveness didn’t allow me any space to second guess our activities.

My next spank was undoubtedly harder than the last one, and I expected any sort of reaction from my girlfriend, except the broken moan she released after my hand fell over the right cheek of her ass.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I didn’t have it in me to even feel embarrassed about my instinctive reactions, especially since Aaron was giving me exactly what I needed. I didn’t know how he knew, I couldn’t think in the state I was in, but it had been too long since I had found myself in this type of relationship and I had forgotten how it provided me with exactly what I needed.

“Y-yes!” I couldn’t stop the shout that escaped my throat as he continued to slowly give me harder slaps. Although it was precisely what I had asked for, it still didn’t manage to give me the same effect I would have gotten from feeling it against my skin. That’s what made me suddenly scramble up to look him in the eye again.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” He looked so concerned, his eyebrows furrowed as he stared up at me. I felt myself smiling despite the mess in my mind, just suddenly overcome with gratitude for having such an amazing creature worrying about me.

“Not at all. This is exactly what I need, I don’t know how you knew it.” I held his face between my hands, softly running my thumbs over his cheekbones. “Would you… Would you do something else for me?”

His eyes searched mine quickly before nodding. “Anything.” I had to smile at his devoted tone, so I leaned down to give him a kiss on the forehead before straightening up again and pulling my dress off my body.

His eyes devoured me whole, but he didn’t open his mouth to protest at seeing me only in my underwear again. I think he knew I respected his desire to wait until I was in better condition to have sex, so he must have had a pretty good idea of what I wanted.

With that in mind, I assumed my position over his lap again, enjoying the feeling of his pants against my practically naked body before calling out to him, “More, please.” He hesitated for a bit. I was about to get up and ask him to forget about this, the last thing I wanted was to make him uncomfortable, when suddenly, his hand collided with my backside.

“Is this what you wanted?” His voice sounded dark, and I felt a shiver run through my body as I nodded to his words. “Not good enough, little girl.” His hands pulled on my hair and I whimpered from the surprise and the pleasurable pain. “I’m going to need to hear you say it.”

A wave of hotness flushed down my body and I could feel my panties getting wet from his words. Never, in a million years, did I expect to be in this position, over my boss’s lap, with Aaron practically talking dirty with such an erotic voice.

“I-I need this,” I finally whimpered, before shifting over his body to adjust my weight, in the hopes of getting some friction between my legs. I hoped I had been discreet, but when I felt my boyfriend’s fingers lightly grazing over my panties on the precise spot I knew would be soaked in a few seconds, I knew I had been caught.

“I can see that.” It was almost funny to hear the smugness in Aaron’s tone, but I couldn’t laugh at that moment. Not when he was pressing the lace of my panties against the emptiness that was throbbing with need, effectively ruining the tissue as it became attached to my pussy lips. “You’re really enjoying yourself, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I wholeheartedly admitted, trying to force myself not to thrust back into his fingers.

“Hmm…” I could practically *hear his desire, and I thought back on how he had stopped himself from going further with me because he didn’t want to take advantage of me in this state. But it couldn’t really be considered taking advantage if it would help the person in need, right?

“Do you know what would help me even better?” I managed to ask, knowing I had picked up his interest by the way he softly caressed my backside.

“What would that be, little girl?” The nickname ignited every single nerve end on my body, and I had to bite back a moan as he unexpectedly slapped my ass again.

“Y-you, daddy.” I *felt his cock jump up at my own nickname for him and that awarded me another slap, harder than the last one.

“And how do you want your daddy, sweetheart?” My attention had completely abandoned his words as I felt his fingers brush up against me again, slowly pushing the fabric of my underwear aside and caressing my wetness in direct contact for the first time. But then another slap echoed around the room and I gasped, bucking into the fingers that were only barely penetrating me. “Answer me, Y/N.”

“Inside of me, daddy.” A sharp intake of breath was all the warning I got before my panties were being forcibly pushed down to my ankles.

“What won’t daddy do for you, little girl?” He asked just before pushing a single long finger inside of me. I almost cried from how amazing it felt after not being touched for so long, but then a thumb was playing with my tiny pearl and a full-on sob escaped me.

“Please, don’t stop, please!” I begged, pulling on the arm that wasn’t otherwise occupied with me, worried that he’d think he had hurt me. However, the response I got was a soft caress on my head in an attempt to calm me down when he managed to release his arm from my grasp.

“I won’t stop, sweet girl. Relax against your daddy and let him take care of you.” The words were like a balm to the mental cuts I had performed on myself, and my body instantly fell slack against his lap.

“There you go. *Such a good, little girl.” Each word from his last sentence was punctuated with a sharp thrust of his finger that led me to start moaning - rather loudly, I supposed - like the trembling mess that I was. Suddenly, my underwear was being taken away from me and pressed against my lips. “Open up, princess.” I eagerly obeyed, desperate to continue receiving his touches, which he immediately resumed with a particular tug on my hair.

Aaron’s P.O.V.

“There you go. Can’t have anyone interrupting us now, can we, sweetheart?” It should feel weird how her broken sobs and moans made me grin from ear to ear, but I was too intoxicated by the power I felt to analyze the situation right now. I had wished for a way to help her. Now I had it. It was clear that this was what she needed, and I was more than happy to give it to her.

“You know, I’ve never done this before…” I started, carefully massaging her head with the hand that wasn’t otherwise occupied with her pussy. “I’m surprised by how much I’m enjoying this.” I pulled on Y/N’s hair again, just in time to watch as her eyes rolled back, her orgasm finally catching up to her after I quickened the motions from my fingers.

“So beautiful,” I absentmindedly whispered as I waited for her to come back to me, not stopping any of my movements, but simply slowing them down. At last, with one final shiver, her body fell limp on my lap and I took my fingers from her with a chuckle at the displeased whine she let out at the emptiness.

I pulled her up so she would be seated on my lap now, her face carefully enveloped by my hands as I searched her eyes after pulling out her panties from her mouth. “How are you feeling, my love?” It was impossible not to be affected by the way she simply melted against me.

“Better. I’m so much better, Aaron, thank you so much.” She hid her face on the crook of my neck and I felt warm and intoxicated at the same time. I wanted to cuddle her and protect her for the rest of her life, but I also wanted to be tightly snuggled inside of her like nothing else on the planet. The dichotomy of this woman was simply too much.

“You’re welcome, my love.” I continued caressing her hair while hugging her close to me, paying no attention to the fact that she was most likely ruining my pants. After a while, she pushed away from my chest to look me in the eyes again.

“What about you, honey?” I knew what she meant. But despite how aroused I felt, I knew it still wasn’t the right moment, so that’s why I leaned down to give her a sweet kiss, before picking her up and softly laying her on the bed.

“I’m already okay, darling. Don’t you worry about me.” Despite knowing she understood where I was coming from, she couldn’t help but pout at me, which made me chuckle. “Soon, alright?” I lightly traced her bottom lip with my thumb as she nodded solemnly at me. “Thank you, sweetheart. Do you want me to stay here with you?”

The way her eyes lit up made me feel like the most special man in the world. “Would you do that?” It hurt me that she’d even doubt, for a second, what I would do for her, especially since it was something that I would also benefit from.

“Of course, darling. I’ll stay with you. I won’t be here when you wake up, because we don’t want the team to notice anything, but I’ll stay until you fall asleep.” She watched me with sleepy eyes as I carefully took off my clothes, putting them over the chair so they wouldn’t wrinkle, and then climbed up on the bed next to her, pulling her to me so she’d fall asleep listening to my heartbeat dance for her.

She’d be alright. I’d make sure of it.

#aaron hotchner smut #smut #aaron hotchner #my series #aaron hotchner reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner ff #aaron hotchner reader insert #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds reader

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thetorturerwrites · 4 years

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Lamb Ch 11 - Tell Me

***This amazing artwork was gifted to me by @elmidol. Please do not re-use or re-post it without permission from them and/or myself. Don’t be a dickbag.

Previous Chapter

Summary: “Please don’t pretend.” It was little more than a hoarse croak that cracked at the end. “I can’t bear it. Let me be.”

“What do you know of pretending?”

He pinched your chin and bade you look. It wasn’t a rhetorical question; he expected an explanation, but there was no simple answer.

“I know you don’t like me. You’ve made it clear.” You sniffed and looked down, hiding behind your lashes. “I just don’t know why.”

Author’s Note: This chapter has my heart. I hope you enjoy.CN: Mentions of pregnancy, mass death, self-harm inclinations

***

Even in Hosnia, with its perpetual twinkling twilight, there was night.

Gradually, a stillness swept over the land. The stars dimmed to a faint flicker. The wandering wind settled down to rest. And the expanse of The Ren’s keep went stone silent. Not a ripple in the bath. Not a creak from the ages-old walls. Not a crackle of candlelight.

It was a crypt. Your crypt.

And yet, you could not die in it. You remained suspended in this agonizing in between. Perhaps if you lay quietly enough, you could slip beyond his enchantment, will your heart to beat slower and slower. Perhaps if you wallowed low enough in your grief, you could trick yourself into believing you weren’t apart from your family when the bombs dropped. You’d died with them.

Perhaps if you concentrated on it enough, you could simply cease to be.

These morose notions kept you curled into yourself. After leaving him in the throne room, you’d escaped to his bed, hoping for a few hours of reprieve. You kept on your cloak, hiding your head and face in the folds of the hood. You tucked your knees to your chest and hugged them tightly, imagining it was Nona. It was the only comfort you would get here, but it was hollow. Hollow, like everything else.

Numb, you ignored him when he entered. You didn’t need to see him anymore to know he was here. He changed the atmosphere by entering, altering the barometric pressure enough that you had to pop your ears whenever he came near. When the work was put down for the night and the souls collected, he came for you.

You thought briefly that maybe he would leave you alone. You’d fulfilled your part of the agreement. As far as you could tell, you were, in fact, pregnant. You’d done your part. But you let the wish die, as everything did here. He was too arrogant to stop turning your body against you. For all of your hostility and heartbreak, your body responded to him in a way you couldn’t quash. Regardless of how hard you tried.

You didn’t bother unwinding from your ball. He would move and position you how he saw fit. Your eyes, dry and red from staring into nothing for so long, closed in preparation. You found you could endure his emptiness if you did not look at him. It made the times he bent you over to have you less bitter. You’d been grateful for the ability to bury your head and not be tempted to look.

Tonight, however, he did not pull you from your self-pity. Neither did he jerk you from your cocoon. He watched you; you could feel it, but you would not, could not, give him the satisfaction of looking over your shoulder. You were simply too wrung out to care. Whether it was pity or anger or outright meanness, he slid into the bed behind you without a word.

An inkling nagged at the back of your mind, an anger you were too deadened to acknowledge. His presence comforted you, irrespective of your ire. Knowing where he was and that he was so close made you feel safe. He was the only indomitable soul in the whole of existence, and you had quite a good reason to be protected. More so now.

Despite yourself, you fell asleep.

You awoke to a tangle of limbs and the decadent scent of belladonna. You’d nearly forgotten how good he smelled close up. Having rolled out of your nook in your slumber, you'd stretched out and were cradled in his embrace with his fingers lazily stroking the back of your head in a way that made your scalp tingle.

Alarm bells rang in your mind. This was dangerous ground, and you needed to escape. He could fast make you forget your commitment to staying away. You shifted in his hold enough for him to ease it open slightly; but when he understood you meant to flee, those wrought irons trapped you again.

“Let me go,” you said timidly.

He not only ignored you, he tipped your face up to press an almost chaste kiss to your wrinkled brow. It was too much, the very thing you feared. Your fight erupted, and you twisted to get free. You heard yourself telling him you’d done what he asked; he could leave you alone; you can’t do this.

He doused your outburst by rolling onto you, punctuating your feebleness. With one arm and one leg trapped beneath him, you gulped down fear and exasperation. He slid his leg up between yours, situating you so your cunt rubbed his broad thigh. Your cheeks burned, a complex mix of mortification and yearning. You’d finally found an empty place, a desolate oubliette in your heart where you could hide, and he was already dismantling it.

“Please.” You turned your face to one side, lips quivering. “Don’t do this.”

You knew you begged more tonight than you did when you arrived, more than you did when he fucked you the first time, but it was unstoppable. You wouldn’t come back from this. If he broke you, if he cracked you open to make room for himself, you would never again be able to contain the sadness. You would ache and cry and pine without solace.

"This," he said flatly. It was an admonition and a challenge combined into a single syllable.

“Please don’t pretend.” It was little more than a hoarse croak that cracked at the end. “I can’t bear it. Let me be.”

His thumb swept across your pulse, feather soft and lingering. His jaw ticked the way it always did when you frustrated him, but you’d weather it. It was worth the risk if you could get free.

“What do you know of pretending?”

His patronizing question stoked the resentment lurking in the dark matter of your brain, but you fought it, blowing out as steady of a breath as you could manage. He pinched your chin and bade you look. It wasn’t a rhetorical question; he expected an explanation, but there was no simple answer. You knew you made far too many assumptions about his character, but he wouldn’t tell you anything to color your vision of him otherwise.

“I know you don’t like me. You’ve made it clear.” You sniffed and looked down, hiding behind your lashes. “I just don’t know why.”

“Hm. Why.”

He dipped his head to place another soft kiss to your neck, right above the hollow. He enjoyed finding the particular places that made you shiver. You pushed at his shoulder weakly, a last ditch effort, but he caught and drew your offending limb up over your head. His granite fingers latched around your wrist, keeping you bound to the bed, to him.

This was bad. Both hands at his mercy. One leg stuck between his. His thigh perfectly situated to welcome your body’s yielding. You felt more bare, more vulnerable, more weak.

Carefully, he pulled the string holding the hood of your cloak in place. Until he untied that bow, you’d forgotten you wore it. Dutifully, he unpeeled you, layer by layer and in a fashion far too intimate. You’d jumped through that door with only your cloak because he kept you clad in as little as possible for easy access. And plunder as you might through room after room, there were simply no other clothes that would fit you available.

That idiot decision led you directly to this moment and this torturous undoing.

You suspected the lack of attire was deliberate, but you forgot about all of that when he tugged the hood apart and pushed it further back. He caressed the length of your jaw with his knuckles, deliberately drawing out your suffering. This was calculated; he had millennia to learn manipulation, physical, mental, and otherwise.

You didn’t stand a chance.

“You ask too many questions.”

Egregiously slow, he popped the first button on your cloak, the one below the same hollow he’d kissed. With his index finger, he drew a small circle there. Your toes and fingers curled involuntarily. You wanted to argue that you only asked questions because he wouldn’t tell you anything, but you realized he answered your accusation. It was why he didn’t like you. A boulder dropped into your belly because you didn’t want to hear it. It was enough that he didn’t; you wouldn’t recover if he told you why.

“You are stupidly reckless.”

The second button met a similar fate, a leisurely unfastening. It wasn’t only the fabric he plucked apart. It was also you, and you squirmed beneath the utter slowness of it all. You wanted him to edge you forever and to hurry the fuck up.

The last button sat over your heart, and you cursed it for being so bloody prophetic. You felt like howling. You wanted to hurt and sob, but the trail of his fingers made you forget your own name. With the third button gone, he traced the line of your sternum before dipping down to lick up a bead of sweat between your breasts.

“You distract me,” he murmured, lips crawling back up towards your pulse.

That last one cracked lightning in your head. The room tipped sideways into spinning. Your lungs turned to steel, struggling to expand. You ground your jaws together painfully, and your throat burned with acrimony. With those three words, he shredded your tender soul to ribbons. Ruined, you squirmed, all pins and needles and lust. It felt like you wept, but your cheeks were too hot to be damp.

I don’t. I don’t. I’m sorry. I don’t. I’m sorry. I can’t. Don’t.

It became your litany. You chanted it, lamenting and weary, but his hands did not waver from their task. He flipped the cloak open, bearing your flesh to the cool midnight air. His slightly calloused palm smoothed up from your calf, along the curve of your hip, and over the ripe swell of your breast. He squeezed, fingers digging in until your hiccups changed to whimpers. The noise he made right before he covered your straining nipple with his mouth coaxed your entire body into a jerk.

“Kylo,” you choked, barely able to get it out. “Please. Don’t make me.”

It was the first time you said his name, and his head shot up. His eyes bored holes into you, swirling incandescent. Fast as a feline, he shifted, settling more of his body on you and looking down. He went from halfway lying between to spreading your thighs obscenely wide with the sheer size of his frame.

You didn’t want him to see the things you couldn’t hide, but he clearly had no plans to let you loose.

“Make you.”

His truncated parroting was infuriating, but you fought valiantly to not be goaded into an argument you'd never win.

His thumb breached your lips to swipe at your tongue, and your body surged up painfully as though he electrocuted you. You’d worked hard to forget the sugary taste of him, the way his skin drugged you to an erotic high at the briefest taste. He was deadly in every way and sexier than anyone had warned you, or maybe even knew.

It was pointless to argue any further. He would win. He would always win. Hardening yourself against what you knew to be a hungry gaze, you looked up at him. For a flash of a second, he wavered at the sight of you, but he disguised it with the press of his lips into a steadfast line.

“Don’t make me feel like I’m not alone.”

You said it with much more calm and confidence than you actually felt. Your time in his captivity, beneath him and wrapped around him, developed this new ability to distill your rambling down to its foundation. He didn’t like questions or mortal nonsense. He wanted it plain, always, and you’d learned how to do it. He didn’t like a lot of extra words; but no matter your newfound skill, you overflowed with them. The essence of your human-ness was to make connections, to find understanding and empathy.

“I have nothing. Not a home, not a family, not you.”

You studied the way he studied you, watching him swallow what looked startlingly like a feeling.

“I’m not like you. I’ve had to mourn my family alone, and…” You stalled, but you knew he wouldn’t let you not finish. “I have to mourn you every time you say something nice to me or do something that looks like kindness but isn’t.”

His brow cocked, a clear response to what he felt was your false presumption, but you didn’t care. You were beyond it all. You may as well say to him whatever you wanted because it couldn’t get worse than his stony countenance day after day, and the alternative to that was the peaceful forever of death.

“I’m not asking you to like me.” Foolishly, you carried on, but your voice dropped, quieter and more afraid. The bravado you felt faded fast. “I’m asking you to not make me like you.”

The way he looked at you, slightly off stoic but decidedly demanding, boiled your blood. He reached down and hooked his fingers under your knee, drawing your leg up and around his hip. It parted your legs more for him, opening you up in a way that made you swoon. You thought you could stay out of reach of his dick; but with it so close, you practically salivated for it.

“It's far too late for that.” Following the first, he tugged your other leg into place around him. “Your body gives you away.”

You wanted to disagree, but his teeth nipped your cheek. You shuddered at the tease of his hard length sliding through your mess, seeking its target in the warm and wet that never quite abated. Your everything swelled for him. Breasts, nipples, pussy lips puffy and engorged with your rushing blood. He wasn’t wrong, but you despised him for pointing it out.

Your breath ruptured into wild panting, sharp through clenched teeth. You stared up at him, hopelessly lost to the spiraling of color in his irises. He took advantage of your deliriousness and pushed your previously pinned arm above your head with the first and held both down with one massive hand. It elongated your body and arched your torso up into him, a thing he enjoyed if the thrum in his chest was to be believed.

You imagined yourself an insect, wings stretched out and nailed to the bed; and all the while, the mad scientist above you inundated your senses. His mouth descended upon your breast once more, eliciting a strangled keening when your vocal chords caught up to the rest of you. He batted the hard nub with his tongue until you writhed pitifully, and he only switched to the other when you tried to buck him off from the over-stimulation.

Playing more and more into his hand, you hugged his sides with wobbly legs and tried to draw him in closer. Your body did truly lead the way, each movement beyond your mind’s purview. It no longer hearkened to your whims but to his. Your insides leaked out of your sex, painting both you and he with heat and want. It scented the air and mingled with his tempting poison.

You were seconds from begging him to fuck you when the blunt head of his cock found its place. He gripped your hip and mouthed at the side of your neck as he rocked himself further into your weeping slit bit by bit. Your eyes rolled back in your head, and your fingers dug into his because it always amazed you. He was long and thick and perfect; and though he stretched you open to the point of burning, it was intoxicatingly good. Thankfully, he bottomed out right when you thought you surely couldn’t take any more.

You whined his name, which spurred him to bite at your shoulder. You convinced yourself it was to cap off the grunt you heard in the back of his throat. He masked another noise by burying his face into your nape and sucking a mark into your salty skin.

You clamped your eyes shut because these were the sounds you so desperately wanted to hear for weeks. Anything to show you did well, to show that he enjoyed you, or at least your pussy, in a way he would never say. You’d forgotten, however, that shutting your eyes so hard contracted your cunt at the same time until he withdrew without warning and rammed back in to enjoy that tightness. You yelped in surprise but angled your hips to give him a deeper channel. The moans you tamped down for so long clamored to the surface. Ablaze, you couldn’t be quiet to save your soul. You mewled and yowled with each powerful snap of his hips and the way he pillaged you for every last centimetre your cunt had to offer.

This was unlike any time he’d had you before. He kept your limbs immobilized and your body taut. He kept his pace persistent but unhurried, which had you pleading pitifully. And he kept his mouth on you, lips grazing, tongue tasting, teeth scraping. Enticing, sinful noises were pushed into your skin as though he didn’t want you to hear them but couldn’t contain them.

And then, it happened. The thing you wanted so passionately. The thing you dreamed about.

He snuffed out your cries with a fiery kiss, blasting through the last of your willpower.

His mouth was heaven, delicious and plump and divine. He knew exactly how he wanted to kiss you, and he led you to it expertly. He tipped your face precisely the right way and wrecked you with the spice in his spit. And when your lips trembled, agitated by sadness and relief and passion, he bit them, as though to chase those things away and replace them with himself.

Abruptly, it all came to a halt. He pushed up to his knees, lifting the lower half of your body in the doing. He didn’t pull out, not willing to surrender his occupation of your body. Nor did he relinquish his rigid grasp of your wrists, opting instead to splay his free hand across the soft swell of your belly, pushing down to trap you there. Your head swam, and you groaned because you felt more full as he pressed on your abdomen. You knew he waited for you to look at him, but you blundered, destroyed and witless.

“Do you want to die?”

His normally razor sharp tone lilted into something you could not name. Your eyes struggled to settle on one particular feature because he was hypnotically beautiful. His eyes shone brilliantly bright; a soft pink blush blossomed across his nose and cheeks from his arousal.

Punctuating the question, his hands found the magic he laid upon you at your forearm and thigh. He rubbed through the ever-looping blood, which, somehow, made your insides shiver. It was a wicked sensation, a stroke to your very veins that pulled a carp from the depths of your being.

“Tell me.”

Your eyes stung. It was cruel of him to ask you this while buried to the hilt inside you, while he was in the middle of obliterating the walls you tried so hard to build between you. But it wasn’t a threat. As you peered up at him, charting a course from one irresistible mole to the next, you saw he asked in earnest. He offered you the escape you hopelessly sought.

Strange how you weren’t so sure you wanted it.

Your loved ones still lay unavenged. Your call for the annihilation of The Resistance still had not been answered. You fought so hard to make it here, sacrificed so much of yourself to that end. What would it say about you if you abandoned it? Weak. Childish. Unworthy.

Beyond that, you had to admit he was right. It was too late to pretend your feelings for him didn’t complicate the issue. You weren’t so stupid as to think he loved you, but you burned for his kind word. You craved his touches even when they weren’t kind. He lit a fire in you and made you feel, a feat you’d not accomplished on your own since the death of your people.

Not yet trusting yourself, you worried the inside of your lip and sought his eyes, but you weren’t prepared for the way he looked at you. He was primal desire manifested, ragged and raw need encased in the skin of a man. The first man. The only man.

But what if he died? What if he found Vader and walked off his own cliff? You’d be here, alone and lonely, with only whatever semblance of a child he produced to stop you from going mad.

How you answered would change the arc of your life irrevocably. If you said yes, this teetering on the edge of begrudging coexistence ended. You could slip into nothing and be done with all of this. If you said no, he would have his hooks in your spirit for eternity. No matter if he never loved you, you wouldn’t be able to refuse him. Ever.

“N-no.”

It was a jittery, hesitant sound, but it was true. He accepted your supplication by pulling you close so he could lift you up. He guided your fingers to his shoulders and settled back on his haunches, holding you closer than ever before. Your weight sunk you down onto his cock and you whinged from the way it nudged your sensitive cervix. You crossed your ankles and tried to inch upwards for a bit of relief.

One chiseled arm held you aloft, while the other traveled your length, winding from the nape of your neck to wrap around your generous hip. He found the spot between where your thigh ended and where your ass began and made a handle, using it to move you up and down, forward and back.

In mere moments, he had you wound up and ready to combust all over again.

“S’ansur yien,” he crooned into your neck, a murmur more profound than thunder. “Tyor ilohira.”

“Kylo? I…”

The way he growled into your neck and slammed his hips up into yours when you said his name settled your curiosity. There was no doubt he enjoyed hearing you say it, and you wondered if he’d ever heard it on another’s lips before. You clung to him as his pace quickened. Over and over he said those eloquent, alluring things into your neck, your hairline, your shoulder. Things you'd never heard before; things it seemed like he couldn't not say.

Tyor ilohira. Yie ilohira. S’ansur yien.

His presence expanded, saturating the room with a consuming euphoria that addled your mind. All while he worked you on his cock in much the same way he did that first day, using your body for his pleasure. Unlike before, he was as deep in your cunt as he could physically be without ripping you apart, and he strained at the seams to keep from doing so.

You quaked. There was nothing for it but to brace. Your pussy stung, and each subsequent shove of his dick tore at your cunt more. You bled for him, as you had so many times before, and you knew he could certainly smell it tinting the air with the slightest hint of iron. It roused him to a roughshod railing every time.

His mouth lined up with yours in a kiss that could only be called a brand. It was fierce and full of urgency, lusty and skirting frantic. His grip turned brutal, possessive; and then, it was your turn to swallow the indecent sounds he made as he flooded your battered cunt. He rode the orgasm out, pumping his hips slow and insistent until his satisfied hum abated.

You swayed, coiling your fingers in the hair at the base of his neck to not topple backwards. You were wary but content to stay here however long he might like. You traced the line of his scar down to his shoulder blade with a skimming fingertip. He was ethereal, holy, and you wanted to pray to him, to exalt all that he was and would ever be, though you didn’t know why. He hadn’t exactly earned that level of worship.

He didn’t meet your stare. Instead, his luscious lips rolled together as he pieced his indifferent veneer back together. A gasp lodged in the back of your throat because he had been affected. You saw it; here was your proof. He’d ridden that whirlwind with you, the result of which was plain as day on his face.

“Kylo?” You dared a whisper, not wanting to break the moment, but your ludicrous need to know things simply would not allow the niggling question to go unasked. “What was that you said?”

His lips lifted at the corners, an entertained huff that won you a nudge of his nose to yours. His eyes softened slightly. And you thought you might fly out of your body.

“No more talk of cliffs,” he said, blatantly dodging your question.

An almost affectionate kiss to your forehead closed the book on the topic, but you’d remember what he said forever, the secret he accidentally shared. You’d already begun plotting the rooms you’d ransack for the language texts you found while he was battling Solo.

The mesmerizing crest to which he carried you ebbed further and further away. A fatigue seeped into your muscles and bones. At his withdrawal, an altogether bleak vacancy infused you with doubt, right down to your marrow. You tried to curtail the childish grumble, but it escaped through the harsh way you chewed the inside of your cheek.

Had you been conquered or consecrated?

What you wanted at the moment was sleep. Whereas he needed none, you still required it daily, a marker of your human fragility. The bath, and its healing ripples, could wait until tomorrow. He did not see fit to allow you this luxury, however. Instead, he scooped you and the blanket you tried to wrap about yourself up. He stepped into the hallway and turned in the opposite direction you expected. You peered over his shoulder forlornly, having decided that a bath would be preferable to whatever this would be.

He walked towards the doorway that started this insanity, dousing the embers inside that had you believing you might make it through today. You shrank more and more into yourself the nearer it drew. A blind terror took over, but you couldn’t move a single cell to save yourself.

The choice he asked you to make meant less than nothing. His decisions were the only ones that mattered here; and having debased you, having obliterated all that you were, he intended to throw you out anyway.

You dared yourself to be furious, to find indignation and hate in the cavity where your heart should be, but there was none. There wasn’t fear either, only resigned acceptance. A heavy sigh sunk your shoulders down, and you closed bleary eyes. You might not fight your fate, but you wouldn’t welcome it.

But the blast and crackle of the portal opening did not come.

To your dismay, he set you on your feet in front of the free-standing obsidian wall in his throne room. The disturbing looking glass you tried so hard to avoid these days. The temptation to lose yourself to memories of Nona was too great. Scowling, you refused to face it. When he attempted to tip your face up, you stubbornly shook your head and crossed your arms over your chest.

It was his laugh that drew you out of what you were quite aware was a fit.

You amused him, and it might have annoyed you had it not been for your outright astonishment. It wasn’t a smile so much as a smirk, and it wasn’t a full laugh so much as a chuckle, but it was a thing you had absolutely no idea how to process. You’d only seen him angry, lewd, or uncaring. You didn’t know how to process…. affable.

Disregarding the flabbergasted look on your face, he turned you about, but you were so afraid of what you would see that you stepped backwards, trying to dodge what came next. His trunk-like arm cinched about your middle, anchoring you in place as he leaned over your shoulder on the right. He shushed your uneasy chirping and placed his hand upon the cool rock.

“Kylo,” the warble in your voice betrayed your apprehension, “I don’t…”

The picture burst onto the surface, cutting off the woeful entreaty you planned. It took a full minute before you understood what you looked at — the destruction of a world. Your hands flew to a throat filled with fiberglass. Revolt roiled in your stomach and turned to chalk in your mouth.

“No!” You yelled and thrashed. “I don’t want to see this!”

The aggravated rumble in his chest didn’t dull your attempt to look anywhere but where he wanted. His fingers at your side dug in painfully, cementing you to this spot. It wasn’t that you feared for your safety. With him engulfing you like this, there was no safer place to be. The concern was that you didn’t want to see what annihilation truly meant. You wanted that to remain as nothing you could imagine, the scope of it too far beyond your insipid, idiotic mind.

He wouldn’t let you go until you obeyed, though, and you knew it. The tears that had been threatening to spill for hours broke loose, rushing over your horrified flush. The devil at your ear spoke, but it was lost to the dreadful cinema playing out before you. There was only the ringing in your ears as you watched blackness detonate and spread outwards across a lovely land that was so alive before.

If he hoped to stun you into a stupor, he succeeded.

Your thunderstruck neglect allowed him to slide the blanket from around you and toss it aside. The next time his mouth found your pulse, it was with the press of his bare body to yours. He plied the back of your neck with slow kisses until you exhaled. You didn’t remember stopping, but a burn in your ribs forced the issue.

“D’Qar,” he said quietly as the dead planet faded.

Another took its place, and your mouth went slack. You couldn’t help but place your hands there to gag yourself or to foolishly forestall what already happened. It assuaged your own guilt by little more than a fraction. The next planet met the same gruesome end.

“Yavin Hoth.”

Your brow knit, and you tilted your head to hear him better. Taking advantage, he licked a stripe from his thorny collar to behind your ear.

“Dantooine.”

The picture shifted once more; the devastation coming quicker and with less and less mercy. Your eyes shot open, bulging out with understanding. He begat a war inside of you with this burdensome lesson because you knew those planets. You recognized them from the miserable, despondent plight that led you here.

“Takodana. Ilum.”

Resistance planets.

Your knees buckled, the weight too great to bear. It was only his sturdiness that kept you from hitting the floor. With his ghastly slideshow finished, his hands were suddenly everywhere. Around your throat, squeezing your ribs, hauling you onto your toes with fingers in your sticky pussy.

“Is this not what you asked me for?”

His dramatic declaration did not match the reality of what he was and what he did. He took your request, your dying wish, and hideously warped it. You asked for The Resistance to be exterminated, but what he’d done was use your heartbreak as an excuse to further his own cause. He wiped out entire worlds with you as his unwitting muse.

Worst of all — You couldn’t tell him to stop.

What did that mean for you?

You dropped into him, a sack of flour against marble. Torn between two truths, you choked on an appeal, unable to get it to leave your lips. The first was that you did this. You were responsible. There was no separating from the fact it was likely you who sparked the idea for his crusade. You’d unknowingly unleashed him upon the Galaxy when you asked him to avenge you.

The second was that you didn’t regret it. With all that happened, with the icy isolation, the bruises you bore for him, and the devastating fact that you’d snuffed out billions of lives, you regretted no part of it.

Disgust clogged your mouth and fattened your tongue. Many of those people did not deserve to die. The overwhelming majority of them did not deserve that fate. But The Resistance did. In the darkest pit of your heart, you were glad. Glad those planets were gone. Glad The Resistance lost so much. Glad he’d done what was in his nature and wiped so many of them from existence.

You were so mired in the swampy feelings and cloudy thoughts you didn’t feel the slide of his lips over your shoulder. It wasn’t until he pushed you face first into the thing that you broke from your reverie. Just in time for his mouth to connect with the bottom of your spine. You shot up to your toes when he bit your ass and hauled your hips back towards him.

Before you could protest, or think of why you ought to protest, he planted his face between your thighs and directly into the center of your cunt. You barked a curse, arching and squirming under the sinful slither of his tongue. At your front, his insistent thumb found your throbbing clit and pressed in, eliciting the most abject whine you’d ever produced.

It wasn’t the first time he’d tasted your blood, nor the first time he’d enjoyed toying with the rips he made in your fragile flesh. It was simply the first time he seemed to care if you enjoyed it.

You’d been in his bed for weeks, maybe years given Hosnia’s disparate slog through space and time; and though the first few encounters were decidedly more patient and mild, he’d long since tired of waiting for you. Lately, he fucked you hard and fast, and he didn’t care for anything other than filling you as many times as necessary for his seed to take root.

But now…

Now, Kylo Ren, Death, the embodiment of all endings, was on his knees. For you.

He laved your cunt with his saliva and sucked your plasma-tinted slick down like candy. You vibrated each time his tongue delved into you and scratched at the infernally smooth surface to keep from tangling your fingers in his hair. His nose rubbed indecent parts of you that had never received such attention. His teeth tugged the engorged meat of your labia until it popped loose with a squelch. Your cunt pulsed around his probing, and he moaned in what sounded like delight.

Like a bitch in heat, you twitched in exquisite agony.

You pressed your forehead to the wall, barely upright, blinking heavily, and hardly seeing the floor. Overwhelmed was not an apt description for the moment, but it was the only one you could latch onto.

What you could see, however, what you could make out between your legs and just past his punishing hand, was the bob of his cock, recovered and standing tall, proud, and ready. The thought of him rendering you further asunder dropped you off the edge, and you shuddered. You couldn’t muster a moan through the orgasm; it was too entrenched in your guts, too laden with emotion.

But he knew. He knew, and he claimed it all with sloppy kiss after sloppy kiss to your exhausted lower half. Cunt. Thighs. Hips. Ass. Vertebrae. You hissed when he slid two impatient fingers into your well worn core to scoop out the very last remnants of your downfall.

He did it. He won. Conquered, not consecrated.

The tangy aroma of you wafted close by when he collected you in a new embrace. He folded you into his dizzying gravity, covetous of his prize.

“Kylo?”

Your brow crinkled because a strange flutter disrupted your equilibrium. You struggled to identify it because it had been so long since you felt it. You pressed a hand to your hot forehead, to your belly, to your ear, trying to uncover the source. Was it fever? Exhaustion? Had you pushed the limits of his spellbinding too far?

Untroubled, he hummed his response into the side of your head, no doubt expecting another of the endless questions you produced.

And then it was there. This bodily function you’d forgotten because you didn’t need it here.

“I’m really… hungry.”

Whatsoever The Ren offers me, I shall accept. He will carry me across dark waters, guide me to the distant shore, and bear me hence to my ancestors.

And I will praise his name for all my time there.

#kylo ren smut #kylo ren x reader #kylo x reader #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren #lamb

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