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allisonbaelfire · 1 month ago

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Amethyst. - PART 20

I stepped into the agency, catching sight of Bakugo as he stormed outside with some of Jeanist’s sidekicks. His eyes locked on mine, and the glare he shot me was intense—angry, even. I felt a strange twist in my chest. What was his problem now?

Shaking off the thought, I made my way toward Best Jeanist’s office. He was already waiting for me when I entered, his posture straight and impeccable, as always.

“I hear you assisted in apprehending a thief today. Your teamwork with Mirko was commendable,” he said, his voice calm, yet sharp with precision. “I must admit, I didn’t expect you to collaborate so effectively with others.”

I frowned internally. Why does everyone keep saying that? Probably because of the Todoroki name—people expect us to be loners, like my father. But I’m not him. I couldn’t help but smirk, feeling a bit proud.

Jeanist’s keen eyes caught the expression immediately. He raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment on it. Instead, his tone became slightly more curious. “You seem to be in high spirits, Miss Todoroki. Let’s see if you can channel that focus properly. Show me the full extent of what your quirk is capable of.”

________

I followed him into a vast training room. It was immaculate—sleek metal walls and polished glass overhead. The open space had a sterile, minimalist design. It felt too clean, too controlled, and that made me uneasy. There were no obstacles, no clear targets—just a vast emptiness waiting to be filled.

Jeanist noticed my hesitation, his gaze sharp but patient. “No one but me will observe you,” he said, his tone steady and professional. “You don’t need to concern yourself with damaging anything here. And you certainly won’t harm me.”

I glanced at him, momentarily caught off guard by how easily he seemed to read me. There was something about him, the way he stayed composed, always a step ahead.

“This training area,” he continued, his voice maintaining that calm cadence, “was built for those with far more volatile and less controlled quirks than yours. It will endure whatever you unleash—ice, fire… even your dragon.”

I hesitated. Dragon. The word alone made my stomach churn. When I was still a child, I lost control. I had spent years keeping that part of me hidden. After the festival, feeling that monster again… I wasn’t ready to face it. I was afraid—afraid of what I could become if I unleashed it the way Jeanist wanted me to.

Jeanist gave me no time to dwell on my fear. Without warning, denim threads shot toward me, swift and precise, like coiling snakes. Instinctively, I threw up a wall of ice, feeling the familiar chill wrap around me as the ice shot forward, meeting his quirk with a sharp crack.

“You’ve honed your ice well,” he noted, his voice still calm as he withdrew his threads, as if he was merely observing a minor experiment. “But that’s not what I’m interested in.”

His attacks came again, faster and more calculated. Every move he made was deliberate, forcing me to react, to stay on my toes. I dodged and countered, sending more ice to block his advances, but it was clear what he wanted. He wanted the fire. He wanted me to lose control.

But I wouldn’t let it happen.

The threads constricted around my arms, pulling tighter as I struggled to maintain focus. My muscles were starting to burn from the exertion, my mind fraying at the edges. But I refused to let go. I wouldn’t let it out. I wouldn’t lose control again.

Jeanist’s voice cut through the tension like a finely sharpened blade. “You’re holding back, Miss Todoroki,” he said, his tone not scolding but sharp enough to demand attention. “That hesitation, that fear, will cost you. You’ve faced worse than this. Why stop yourself now?”

I stumbled back as his threads pulled tighter, restricting my movements even more. I could feel the pressure building inside, but I pushed it down, the cold of my ice spreading beneath my feet. “I don’t need the fire,” I shot back, my voice tense. “My ice is enough.”

Jeanist’s eyes narrowed slightly, his expression still unreadable but his tone taking on an edge of challenge. “Is it?” he asked, his voice measured. “Your brother thought he could manage his power alone too… look where that got him.”

The world seemed to stop. Those words struck deep, igniting something I couldn’t control. Anger, sharp and blistering, surged through me. How dare he mention him?

“You don’t know anything about him!” I shouted, and in that moment, I lost my grip. The fire broke free, erupting from my hands in a scorching wave of heat, hotter and more intense than I had ever let it burn before.

Jeanist didn’t move as the flames surged toward him. His gaze remained steady, analyzing every detail, every movement. It was as though he had been waiting for this moment.

“That’s more like it,” he said, his voice even, watching with focused interest as I unleashed both ice and fire in a chaotic swirl.

But something was wrong. This fire didn’t feel like it belonged to me. It pulled at me, something deeper, something primal, waking inside. Heat and cold surged together, and my vision blurred. I felt a creeping sensation at the edges of my mind, like something—no, someone—else was there. A shadow stirring, growing, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was watching, waiting. My body felt distant, as though I wasn’t fully there, like I was watching from a foggy distance, disconnected from the reality in front of me. And then, I saw it.

The dragon.

It appeared slowly at first, a hazy outline forming out of my flames, its body lined with shimmering, icy scales. My breath hitched as I felt its presence take shape, solidifying, towering above me. The creature’s eyes glowed the same deep purple as mine. I watched, helpless, as it moved with a will of its own—roaring, loud and deafening, shaking the very air around us.

“Stop… I don’t want this,” I whispered, my voice trembling, but the words barely escaped my lips. The dragon didn’t respond. It was like it didn’t hear me—or worse, it didn’t care.

Best Jeanist’s voice came through, steady but with a sharper edge. “Y/N, stay focused. Don’t let it control you. You are still in control.”

“I… I’m trying!” My own voice felt far away, like it was being drowned out by the roar of the flames and the crackling of ice beneath me. I reached out, trying to pull back the power, but it was too much. The dragon was too strong, and it wasn’t listening to me.

A sharp, jarring sensation ran through me as I tried to reel it back. I reached for control, but it slipped through my fingers like water. Panic rose in my chest as I realized I couldn’t stop it. The dragon wasn’t just a manifestation of my quirk anymore—it had its own mind, its own power.

“Y/N, focus!” Jeanist called out again, his voice cutting through the chaos. He moved quickly, dodging as the dragon’s massive claws slashed through the air, the ice beneath it cracking under the pressure. His eyes remained locked on me, calculating. He wasn’t panicking, but I could see it in his gaze—he was analyzing every move, every reaction, waiting for the right moment.

“I can’t—” I gasped, feeling the fire rage hotter, the cold biting deeper into my skin. “I can’t stop it!”

“You can,” Jeanist insisted, his voice firmer now. He dodged again as the dragon lunged toward him, flames and ice tearing through the room. “This isn’t just your quirk, Y/N. It’s connected to your emotions. Calm your mind!”

But I couldn’t calm it. The dragon was feeding off something inside me, something dark and uncontrollable. It was like it didn’t care about my fear—it thrived on it.

“Stop!” I yelled again, more desperate this time. But the dragon moved on its own, relentless and brutal. It lunged toward Jeanist, its eyes glowing brighter, and for a moment, I felt like it was smiling—enjoying the chaos, enjoying the power.

I stumbled, falling to my knees as my vision blurred. The flames surged higher, and I could barely breathe. It was too much. My heart raced in panic, but my body stayed frozen, trapped in the storm of power surrounding me.

Then, through the haze of ice and fire, I heard Best Jeanist’s voice again, calmer but urgent. “This is more than you’ve dealt with before, but you can handle it. I need you to breathe. Focus. Regain control.”

“I’m trying!” I shouted, but the fear was overwhelming. The dragon roared again, its massive head twisting toward the viewing window. My eyes followed, and there, standing behind the glass, was Bakugo. His face was twisted in frustration, fists clenched at his sides as he yelled into the speakers.

“Frostburn! Stop this shit right now!” His voice boomed over the chaos, sharp and angry.

The dragon paused, its massive body shifting instantly. It walked toward Bakugo, its glowing purple eyes narrowing as though it recognized him as a threat.

He was still standing behind the viewing glass, his crimson eyes fixed on me – ignoring the Dragons gaze. But unlike before, his expression wasn’t filled with anger or frustration—it was something else. Concern, maybe? No, it wasn’t possible. Bakugo didn’t do concern. But there was something about the way he stood there, fists clenched, jaw tight, like he was holding back from stepping in himself.

“Katsuki…” I whispered, the name barely making it past my lips.

Then, through the haze of ice and fire, I heard a voice—deep, monstrous.

“He’ll hurt us.”

No. A spike of fear ran through me. The dragon’s going to hurt him. I wanted to shout, to stop it, but the words wouldn’t come. The flames inside the dragon grew hotter, crackling with intensity as it prepared to strike. And then I felt it—a wave of heat rising inside me, something dangerous. The dragon was reacting to my emotions, my fear, and it wasn’t going to stop.

“He’ll hurt us,” the voice growled in my head, louder this time.

“No,” I managed to say, a little louder this time. “He won’t.”

But the dragon didn’t care. It snarled, flames curling up from its mouth as it reared back, ready to attack. I could feel the heat rising again, burning through my chest, suffocating me. My control was slipping, and the dragon was ready to strike.

Bakugo’s voice cut through the haze again, this time rougher, but still sharp enough to cut through the fog in my mind.

“Don’t give me that crap, Frostburn! I know you can stop this!” He took a step forward, hands clenched at his sides. “You control it! Not the other way around!”

His words hit me hard, and I could feel something inside me shift. My breath came out in short, ragged gasps as I tried to focus, tried to take back control. But the dragon wasn’t listening to me anymore. It was too strong, too wild, and it was feeding off everything I didn’t want to admit—fear, anger, frustration. I wasn’t in control.

“Katsuki…” My voice trembled. “I… I can’t…”

Bakugo slammed his fist against the window, his face twisted in anger. “Bullshit! You did it before! You can do it again!”

Best Jeanist watched me, his threads shooting out to intercept the dragon’s attack. The flames collided with the denim, but they didn’t stop. They were too hot, too powerful, and they melted through Jeanist’s defense like it was nothing.

The dragon reared back, preparing for another strike, its eyes glowing with that same menacing purple light. Stop, I wanted to scream. Please stop. My heart pounded in my chest, fear clawing at me as I struggled to take control.

“Remember, you control it! You’re stronger than this! Fight back, Frostburn!”

And then, through the storm of power, I heard Bakugo again. His voice was different this time—not angry, but determined.

I felt something shift inside me, his words cutting through the fog. Stronger… I could feel the dragon’s power, but I could also feel my own, buried beneath the fear. It was there, waiting for me to take hold. My breath came in ragged gasps as I reached for it, my hands trembling as I tried to regain control.

The dragon’s eyes flickered, its gaze snapping back to me for the briefest of moments. The flames around it slowed, the ice beneath its feet cracking but not spreading. I could feel it—my control returning, bit by bit. But it wasn’t enough. The dragon still moved, still raged, and I wasn’t sure I could stop it.

Jeanist’s voice echoed through the training room. “Y/N, focus! You’re the one in control. Not the dragon. You!”

I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to breathe, to focus on my own power, not the dragon’s. The flames inside me flickered, the ice cracked beneath my feet, and I pushed harder, reaching deeper for control. The dragon roared again, but this time, it didn’t attack. It hesitated, its movements slower, less wild.

“Bakugo, keep speaking!” Jeanist ordered, his voice cutting through the tension.

“Tch.” He muttered. “I know you can do it!” Bakugo yelled through the speaker. “You did it at the festival—just do it again!”

And then, with one final surge of energy, I felt it—the dragon’s grip on me loosening. The dragon dissolved into mist, its flames and icy scales fading into nothing. But the air was still thick with tension, the cold biting at my skin as I dropped to the ground, gasping for air. My legs felt weak, trembling beneath me, and my heart pounded wildly in my chest.

I glanced down at my hands—pale, almost blue from the cold—and for a moment, all I could hear was the deafening roar of my own heartbeat. My breath came in short gasps as I tried to steady myself, to make sense of what had just happened.

Jeanist approached cautiously, his gaze trained on me, watching for any signs that I might lose control again. “Y/N?” His voice was calm, steady, but there was an edge to it now—an understanding that hadn’t been there before.

I nodded weakly, trying to force my breathing back to normal. “I… I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice raw and hoarse. The words felt hollow, meaningless. Sorry for what? For almost losing control? For the dragon? For the voice that I wasn’t even sure was real?

Jeanist shook his head slowly, crouching down to meet my gaze. “There’s nothing to apologize for,” he said firmly. His expression softened, but his eyes remained sharp. “Now we know what we’re dealing with.”

I swallowed hard, my throat tight with fear. “I… couldn’t stop it.” The words tasted bitter on my tongue. I had lost control—not just of my quirk, but of myself. And that scared me more than anything.

Jeanist’s gaze didn’t waver. “You did stop it,” he said, his voice unwavering. “You regained control. And that’s what matters.”

His words were meant to comfort me, but they didn’t ease the knot of anxiety twisting inside. The dragon wasn’t just a technique—it was alive. It had its own will, its own mind. And for a terrifying moment, I hadn’t been sure if I was in control—or if it had been controlling me.

That voice… That deep, monstrous voice. Was it mine? Or was it the dragon’s?

I clenched my fists, still shaking. I wasn’t sure what scared me more—the fact that I had unleashed the dragon, or the part of me that didn’t want to let go of its power.

Jeanist’s voice was calm, measured as he stood. “You’re going to need more training, Y/N. This isn’t something we can fix in a week. I’ll talk to Aizawa—we’ll need his help to get this under control.”

Bakugo’s voice came through the speaker again, quieter this time. “Frostburn… Told ya, you can do it.”

I glanced toward the window, my breath catching in my throat. Why did his voice cut through the chaos when I couldn’t even reach my own power? It wasn’t right—he shouldn’t have been the one who got through to me. That should have been me. But… it wasn’t.

Jeanist turned to Bakugo. “Your assistance was timely, Bakugo. You provided what was needed for her to regain control. I’ll handle things from here.”

Bakugo didn’t protest, but his gaze lingered on me before he turned and left. I watched him go, my mind a swirl of questions and confusion.

__________

Jeanist’s attention returned to me, his expression thoughtful yet composed. I clenched my fists, still shaking. I wasn’t sure what scared me more—the fact that I had unleashed the dragon, or the fact that a part of me didn’t want to let go of that power.

But there was something else gnawing at me, something I didn’t want to admit. The dragon had been protecting me. I could feel it, deep inside, that primal instinct driving it forward, to shield me from harm. And that voice—it had said he’ll hurt us. But who? Bakugo? Jeanist?

Or… me?

Best Jeanist’s gaze remained steady. “Fear and anger fuel chaos, but what grounded you today was something else—your emotions, tied to Bakugo. Whether you realize it or not, they helped bring you back.”

I stared at him, my chest tightening. “My emotions… tied to him?” The thought seemed impossible. Katsuki?

Jeanist nodded. “Strong emotions, when properly directed, can bring clarity. Your connection with Bakugo helped center you. But you need to find that balance on your own.”

I frowned, unable to shake the discomfort. Bakugo? It didn’t make sense. He was loud, annoying, always pushing my buttons. How could he have any part in me regaining control?

“I stopped it,” I muttered, more to myself.

Jeanist’s expression didn’t change. “You did. But his presence helped you focus.”

I clenched my fists. Why him? Why did his words cut through the storm when nothing else did?

Bakugo was loud, obnoxious, and always getting under my skin. He was a constant thorn in my side, always pushing my buttons. But then… there were the moments that didn’t fit that picture. At the festival, his words had snapped me out of the chaos, given me control. And then, when he came into my room the other night, fell asleep next to me… I hadn’t had nightmares for the first time in years.

Jeanist rose, leaving the thought hanging in the air. “Reflect on it. For now, remember, you’ll need to find that strength without relying on anyone else.”

_______

Amethyst. - Masterlist: click here -> You can find my Story on Wattpad!

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yuly · 2 years ago

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↬ A Two Way Street ↫

Aaron Hotchner x Jessica Brooks x female reader (platonic)

Summary: Aaron walks in on you calling him out and urging your friend Jessica to speak up for herself.

Warnings: angst, some comfort, family issues, Hailey is mentioned, angry Hotch

A/N: just a little blurb I thought of after watching S10E20, hope you enjoy

WC: 1K

Pic credit: pinterest

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

You were heartbroken, sitting across from your best friend as she broke down for the third time this week. You’ve known Jessica Brooks for almost seven years. The two of you share everything and have an almost sisterly bond. Despite her bubbly and outgoing persona, the past few years have been tough on her. Between the sudden loss of her sister, stepping up in a major way for her nephew Jack and his dad, financial stress, and her father's new dementia diagnosis, you were worried about your friend. She had too much on her plate and was slowly losing herself.

Naturally, you felt angry for her. She gave every part of herself to her family, held nothing back and never said no. But everyone has their limit, and Jessica was well past hers.

“Jess, please let me help you. I can watch Jack, we both know this interview is important.”

You had called up an old friend for a favour to get Ray a spot at one of the best assisted living facilities in the city. Jessica landed an interview, but Jack’s father wasn't home for another two days. You’ve only met the man in passing, you never really had an opinion on him one way or the other, but as of late, you've grown to resent him for all the pressure he puts on your friend.

“It's fine Y/N, you know how Aaron is, he wouldn’t be happy with his son being around people he doesn’t know,” you rolled your eyes at that.

Meanwhile, Aaron’s case ended earlier than expected. He decided to come by Jessica's place to surprise Jack. He let himself in quietly, knowing it was either Jack’s nap-time or reading time, not wanting to disturb either. He paused at the sound of your voices coming from the kitchen.

“You know what I mean Y/N, I trust you with Jack but I want to respect his father's wishes,” she explained patiently.

“C'mon Jess, I know he’s your family but this laundry list of demands and expectations is ridiculous. He knows about your dad, has he offered to help in any way? He knows about your job situation, has he offered any help? Jess, why is it that you have to be the backbone for everyone and no one looks out for you?” Jessica sighs, biting her lip.

Aaron’s jaw is clenched tightly as the heat begins to rise to his face, he feels a swarm of emotions at the moment, but mainly anger. Anger at being called out by someone he barely knows, anger that you know this much about his family life, anger that you have the nerve to say any of this out loud.

“Y/N, you're always looking out for me and I’m forever grateful, you put in a good word for dad at this facility, you put in a referral for me at your job, and you always offer to watch Jack for me. You are the best friend and biggest supporter I have right now and I love you for it Y/N. But it's different with Aaron, he's-”

“Your ex-brother-in-law that you feel bad for? Look, Jess, I know I'm well out of line here but you are drowning and you need to speak up for yourself.” That was bold, but you stood ten toes behind every word and behind your friend.

Hotch decides he has heard enough, he clears his throat, causing you both to jump.

“Aaron, your home! Jack’s gone down for a nap, he was worn out today, they played tennis and it was his turn to be pizza helper,” Jessica rambles on nervously, firmly planting herself between the two of you. The tension in the room is thick.

“Can I have a word please,” he shoots you a stern glare, “in private.”

You move out to the balcony, avoiding all eye contact, feeling guilty for the awkward situation you've created for Jess.

“Aaron listen, she’s my friend, her delivery is harsh but she means well,” Hotch abruptly cuts her off, “I don’t want her anywhere near my son and I’d appreciate it if you'd stop indulging our private business with her,” he snaps.

Jessica is slightly taken aback, “Aaron, I understand she said some harsh words just now, but that's not fair, she's my friend and she’s genuinely concerned. She's coming from a good place.” Her tone is calm, a stark contrast to his.

“Why didn't you just come to me instead of venting to your friend about our family’s issues?”

“Aaron, you are not the easiest person to talk to. You have a lot on your plate already, and you're not always open to having hard conversations. Y/N is a good friend, she listens and offers real solutions to help.”

Aaron shifts slightly, feeling an uncomfortable pang in his chest.

“I would've heard you out. I didn't know you were struggling with work, and I was going to talk to you about your dad, but I wanted to give you some space first,” his voice is lower now.

“That's it, Aaron, I don't need any more ‘space’ I feel like I'm on an island by myself as it is! I want to feel like I can talk to you without worrying about you getting upset.”

Jessica sighs, gently placing a hand on his shoulder, “and I want you to talk to me Aaron, you don’t have to carry everything by yourself, this is a two-way street.”

Aaron looks down at his feet, hands tucked into his pockets as guilt washes over him. Jessica has been a rock for him and he had no idea how badly she was hurting. Aaron’s coping mechanism is to drown out the noise with work, to bury his head in the sand.

“I’m sorry Jessica, I’m sorry for not listening and for making you feel like you couldn’t talk to me. I’ll try do better about talking to you.”

You’ve been watching and listening silently from your spot on the balcony as the two of them talk it out and you smile to yourself, proud of Jessica for finally speaking up. Hearing Aaron speak candidly and be vulnerable for once shifts something inside of you.

Maybe Jack’s dad isn't as bad as you thought….

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ysljoon · 3 years ago

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Personal Business|CEO!Jeon Jungkook x Assistant Reader

This fanfic is mature so please avoid if you are not 18+ this is also a yandere fic so there are sensitive topics.

Warnings: Yandere themes, noncon sex, public sex, crying, fingering (f receiving), dirty talk (jungkook has a filthy mouth christ), creampie, assault?

Being the personal assistant to Jeon Jungkook definitely has been a rollercoaster of experiences, but after working with him for about 2 years now you’ve gotten used to his erratic behavior such as mood swings and unreasonable demands. Everyone in the workplace has admired how long you’ve stuck around, but the paycheck you receive every two weeks is too pretty to pass up. You saw the listing for the job on a job search website and the pay per hour almost had you pass out, but once you came into the office you realized you were getting paid so generously almost as a test to see if the money could keep you around and it sure has.

Today Jungkook was in an extra gruff mood for the day because he had plenty of meetings to go through and not enough time for proper breaks and that’s the least ideal day for him. He loves breaks as much as any other person, but just tenfold. Everyone in the office is allowed a 45 minute lunch break, but since Jungkook is the CEO he will disappear on 2 hour breaks and not a single person knows where he goes. Not even you and people don’t understand how since you’re practically his right hand. You pay no mind to his whereabouts since it doesn’t affect and busy yourself with whatever tasks Jungkook left for you to do. Today he left no tasks for you since he’s been cooped up in his office occupied with other business officials. You haven’t been able to meet with him to get a briefing for the day so now you’re talking with Taehyung at his cubicle while you share a small pizza he ordered for lunch.

“Taehyung, I’m telling you right now there is no way that Joon and the receptionist don’t have something going on! They’re always eyeing each other up and Namjoon is always requesting for her to come to his office. It’s highly suspect.” You explained your reasoning to Taehyung exasperated and took another bite of your crust.

“Listen Y/N, all I’m saying is that it’s way too obvious for it to actually have any worth. Anyways you know how Mr. Jeon feels about workplace romance; he absolutely abhors the thought and would probably fire people on the spot if he ever found out.”

You continued to have your disagreement with Taehyung for a little while more, but what you didn’t realize was that Jungkook was done with his meeting a while ago and was watching you on his laptop through the camera system and was frowning deeply watching you fraternize with your coworker. He was tired of watching you practically throw yourself at Taehyung when you were his and only his. Jungkook got up from his desk and strode to Taehyung’s cubicle to stop this foolishness immediately.

“Mr. Kim, is there a reason why you are holding up my assistant from her work and why the expense report I asked you to do isn’t done?” Jungkook had a look on his face that he wanted to wring Taehyung’s neck and he was very close to, but he didn’t want to scare you off. He had to have you in his possession before he got rid of anybody that even tried to look in your direction so for right now this was his version of playing it cool.

“I-I’m very sorry sir it won’t happen again and I’ll get right to it!” Taehyung quickly turned to his computer and fervently typed in his password to get to work immediately. Jungkook then turned to you and grabbed you by the arm to drag you to his office. You were shocked and stunned by this action because sure he had talked to you roughly, but had never put his hands on you. He swiftly pulled you into his office and slammed the door. He even fully shut his blinds. This started to have you scared. He had this look in his eyes that made your body start to tremble. “S-sir I’m sorry for not working! I just wasn’t able to get the daily briefing for today so I tried my best to get work done. I had a lot of free time so I thought to spend it with Taehyung. I’m sorry if that was wasting company time you can deduct it from my pay!” You were heavily breathing by the time you were done with your panicked spiel. Jungkook chuckled at your anxiety and strode towards you till you were backed up into the wall and at this point you thought he could feel how fast your heart was beating in your chest.

“Darling, if you really want to make it up to me you can kiss me.” He purred in your ear and it sent sickening shivers up your spine. Your head started to spin when you felt him plant his lips on the column of your neck and work his way up to your jaw. You tried to shove him off, but naturally he was able to overpower you and he used his leg and chest to trap you between him and the wall.

“My dear Y/N, I hope you cooperate with me if you know what’s good for you.” He slyly grinned against your skin and started to passionately kiss you. To really show he was in charge he bit down on your bottom lip with force you have never felt before. It had you cry out in pain, but you were quickly silenced when you felt your boss reach under your skirt and start to trace circles against your cunt. He placed a hand against your mouth and gave you a threatening look you have never seen. It was so sinister it had you squirming away from his touch. You thought you could have gotten away but by the time you were able to slide past his body he was grabbing your wrist and slamming you down against his desk which sent things tumbling down to the floor.

“Jungkook, please stop, I'm so sorry!” You didn’t even realize you were bawling at this point, but he ignored your pleas and sobs and continued with his sinister acts. He grasped your wrists in one hand and with his other he slid your panties off and inserted a single long finger into your cunt. “Fuck baby, you’re so tight and wet for me.” He kept pumping his finger into you until he felt like he could insert another one into you. Once the second finger was deep in your hole Jungkook started to pick up the pace and you couldn’t even cry out to what he was doing to you. You felt numb and helpless and wanted him to stop, but your efforts were useless.

“Kitten, I want to hear you. I want to hear how good I make you fucking feel. I want to see you get dumb on my fucking fingers and cock that you don’t even know what to do with yourself. I want you to beg to have your dirty cunt stretched out.” Hearing your boss talk to you like this makes you speechless, but you listen to him because you don’t know what other worse things he can do to you. You let your body succumb to what he’s doing and you let out small moans and whimpers and this makes him let out his own grunts and groans in response. Before you can assess what’s happening when you feel his fingers slip out of your soaked pussy, Jungkook is shoving his cock balls deep into you and you gasp for air feeling the heavy pressure between your legs. He doesn’t give you any time to adjust and starts to pound into you. You cry out in both pain and pleasure from hearing skin slap against skin. You feel close to an orgasm and tears are rolling down your cheeks from desperation. “Sir please let me cum! I need to cum so bad! Please let me cum all over your cock.” You can’t even process the words you’re saying, you just want to have your release so badly. Jungkook slaps your ass and groans a ‘fuck yes baby’ and just seconds after that action you’re creaming on his thick cock. You feel your walls pulse around your boss and this brings him close to the edge and he’s losing control over himself. He starts to wild slam into your cunt and after a few more pumps he’s spilling his cum into you and you feel delirious from everything that had just happened. You hear him adjusting himself behind you, but you can’t bring yourself to even move at the moment. You hear his steps come close to you and you just lie there motionless while you wait for him to speak. “I can’t wait to bring you home with me princess.” After that sentence all you can recall is a blunt object coming in contact with your skull and nothing else.

Notes: thank you so much for reading I’ve been on a pretty solid hiatus and will crosspost what I have written on AO3 on to here too because I have some fics there that I haven’t posted on to Tumblr! If you enjoyed please like and reblog it really helps and you can also give me a Kofi.

#yanderebts #yandere jeon jungkook #yandere jungkook #yandere bts #yandere bts fanfiction #ceo jeon jungkook #dubcon/noncon #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #kim taehyung #smut #bts smut #jungkook smut #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #tw dubcon #tw dark content #bangtan sonyeondan

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midgardianweasley · 3 years ago

Note

I‘d love to see you write an angsty fanfic with Natasha x reader (male or female is up to you) with a bad ending of your choice.

No pressure of course ✨

as requested Violet!! I hope it's okay<3

How could you do this to me?

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha hasn’t been around recently and Y/N’s been really missing her company, but that changes when some CCTV footage is discovered.

Warnings: Cheating, swearing.

Word Count: 3.6k

there was an attempted proof read, but sorry in advance if i've missed anything!!

message/ask to be added to the taglist<3

Requests are open!

You weren’t surprised when you woke up to an empty bed once again, the space beside you missing a red-head assassin. You’d grown used to the sight of bedsheets spread lazily on your side of the bed, almost completely thrown off of the edge. It wasn’t unusual, however, the feeling of disappointment that lingered in your chest every morning never eased with time.

‘I’m just off to train, baby.’

‘I need to go and see Fury about this next mission, you go back to sleep’

‘I forgot to debrief the team last night, so we need to have a meeting this morning instead.’

‘Off to get some breakfast, my love. I’ll save you some eggs.’

Those were the typical reasons you received whenever you questioned where she was going in such a hurry in the mornings. You knew she was busy, of course you did. But, you missed the mornings when she’d pull you back into her chest, refusing to let you leave until you gave her a few kisses, which never ended up just being kisses, but you always gave in either way.

Now that you think of it, you can’t remember the last time she held you. Not properly. She used to hold you in a death grip, so tight that you could almost feel her heartbeat in your own chest. Nowadays, you were lucky to get more than a few taps on the back, it felt like you were being congratulated for something.

You’d always brushed it off, thinking that you must’ve been selfish for wanting so much of her attention, you had to be more understanding of how demanding her job is. It wasn’t like you never tried, you did, everyday. It would just be nice to feel her love for you a little more, even if it was just a quick peck before she left in the mornings.

“Hey Wan’, Hey Vis” You smiled at the pair as they stood at the kitchen counter, cracking eggs and buttering some toast. They loved cooking together, Wanda always told you how cute it was when Vision was trying to learn, especially after his fiasco with the Paprika.

“Hi Y/N, want something to eat?” Wanda handed you some toast, which you took gratefully, slowly munching on it.

Vision looked up as though to engage in conversation, when he then looked around in confusion. “Where’s Ms. Romanoff?”. You shrugged.

“I’m not sure, I think she’s training, I’ve not heard from her yet.”

You were looking at Vision, but it was near impossible to miss the sympathetic look Wanda was giving you. She knew about how you’d been feeling with Natasha not being around so much, she had tried to help, to hint to Nat that you’d been feeling a bit neglected for a while now, but she hadn’t gotten very far.

“Nat, nat, I just think that maybe you should spend a little more time with Y/N” It was obvious the assassin wasn’t listening to her, shrugging it off and trying to walk past the witch, only to have a hand pressed on her chest to push her backwards.

“Wanda, I need to go, I'm running late.”

“you’re always running somewhere. I'm sure Fury, or Tony or whoever you’re in such a rush to see, can wait. You haven’t seen your girlfriend in forever.”

“I saw her last night.”

“Crawling into bed in the early hours of the morning and sleeping next to her, isn’t seeing her, Nat.”

Her words fell on deaf ears as she watched her friend turn around and walk the other way. She could’ve used her powers to stop her, she didn’t see a point though. She wasn’t listening, and she couldn’t force her to.

“It's fine though, honestly! I can hang out with you guys today if you’re not busy?”

the couple shared a look of awkwardness before looking back towards you.

“Actually, we were going to go into town and do some sightseeing. You’re welcome to join us though!” She smiled, not wanting you to be alone, which you were grateful for, but you couldn’t intrude.

“No no, don’t worry! I think I've got something Tony wanted me to check out in the Lab, now that I think about it.” You didn’t. “You guys have fun though! take pictures!” You winked, knowing full well that your best friend didn’t believe you, she hesitated before nodding her head in agreement and beginning to walk off with Vision in tow.

__________________

An hour or so went by, you still hadn’t seen Natasha at all, or anyone, really. They all seemed to have disappeared to do their own thing, leaving you to find yours. So, you found yourself wandering into your lab, where you found Tony observing the screens with an endless amount of data changing every couple of seconds. You never really understood how he made sense of it all so quickly, but you’d always been intrigued nonetheless.

He must’ve sensed someone was there, as he broke away from his train of thought and glanced over towards you, fully acknowledging how your shoulders were slumped and your eyes lacked your usual sparkle. Tony alway had a soft spot for you, he’d known you for years, taking on a role similar to a father’s. Seeing you look so defeated recently, it’d hurt him a little more than he cared to admit.

Gesturing for you to come in with a gentle smile before moving and adjusting various chunks of metal on the table in the centre of the lab.

“Ah ah!” He tapped the bridge of his nose

“You can’t be serious! Tony I-”

“Nope”

“I’m a grown woman!” You laughed in disbelief at his

“Yes, you are, and I do not plan on taking said grown woman to medical because she got a shot of electricity through her eyeball. Put them on.”

You rolled your eyes, picking up a pair of the obnoxiously large lab goggles and put them over your face. He really took being a ‘father figure’ too seriously sometimes. With your goggles on, you took yourself over to where he stood, hoping to help him out somehow and keep yourself occupied.

You watched him move around blueprints on the screen above. “So, whatcha working on?”

“Well, remember that last mission we went on? How that ended?”

“Well, considering I had to get bullets removed for the last two hours, I’d say I remember pretty well.”

His face cringed slightly “Yeah, that’s the one. I’m basically just trying to layer the suits more, but keep the weight to a minimum so that there’s more protection, but the speed and mobility is almost, if not, the same.” He pondered, mind wandering off again to try and figure out how he could make this work.

Suddenly springing to action, he started assembling some pieces together, chucking some aside and reaching for different tools he required.

Looking towards you, he tilted his head “Can you pass me the-”

His sentence was interrupted. “Hey Tony, hey-” Banner. You didn’t mind Bruce, he was always quite quiet and polite most of the time, a little awkward, but, when you have a literal Hulk inside of you, it’s probably the least of your concerns.

You waved at the Avenger. “Hi Bruce” You gave him a friendly smile, for it to be returned with an awkward gaze, which he tried to quickly shove off.

“Yeah, uh, hi, Y/N. W-what brings you here?”

“Oh, no particular reason, I wanted something to do so I thought I'd come down, just pay a visit.” He nodded, acknowledging your words but appearing a little on edge, almost.

“Hey, you okay?” You asked “You look a little pale?”

“Yeah, yeah n-no I'm fine, just a-a bit tired.” He stuttered before suddenly directing his attention towards the man standing beside you. “How’s it coming along, Ton’?”

“Not bad, I have a wonderful assistant to help me out.” he nudged you playfully.

“Haha, yeah. She’s great. Anyways, you seem to have a good hold on things, so, I’ll leave you to it and come back later.”

Neither of you had managed to get a word out before Banner had walked out and was already out of sight. You turned to face Tony again.

“Was that- did you find that weird at all?”

“I find most of the people in this compound weird.”

It was a serious question, but you couldn’t help but let out a laugh at the millionaire’s response.

“I do pride myself on it.”

“As you should. You’re the weirdest one.”

“Hey!” You slapped his arm. “Rude!”

“I’m kidding! Now, pass me that screwdriver, goggles.”

Chuckling, you threw him the screwdriver and zoned out thinking about Bruce’s weird behaviour. While Tony was right, the majority of us are weird. You couldn’t stop thinking about how unusual it was, even for him. You put it to the back of your mind though, focusing back on what the man beside you was working on. You’re sure it’s fine.

________________________

You thought you were going crazy. First you had Nat, who was disappearing every chance she got, Then you had Bruce who couldn’t look you in the eye and when you finally believed it couldn’t get any weirder, you picked up on some strange vibes from Steve.

“Oh finally! I was beginning to think no one else actually lives here.” You approached Steve who seemed to be walking and talking with Bruce, both taking a step back when they looked towards you.

“Hey Y/N, we were just-”

“We were just about to go and have a shower. Training.” Steve cut in, earning himself a glare and a shake of the head from the scientist beside him, subtle, so you hadn’t noticed, otherwise you would’ve questioned it.

“Oh? You were training too, Bruce?”

“Well, I-” He glanced at Steve. “Yeah. Yeah, I, uh, wanted to get some combat down, just in case I needed it.”

“Considering our last mission, I think we all should.” the super soldier quickly added, sending you an enthusiastic smile, which you had returned. You went to speak again, possibly inquiring as to whether or not they knew where your girlfriend was, but you hadn't had the chance as the pair of them quickly rushed off, muttering something about catching you later, leaving you on your own, once again.

What the hell was going on?

_____________________

Feeling defeated, you trudged your way into your bedroom, just wanting to shower, get into bed and sleep, and hope for some form of normality.

What you hadn’t expected, was to walk in and see the back of a familiar figure sporting the black suit she practically lived in, tying her hair into a low bun and beginning to change into some more comfortable clothes.

You were dating, so it wasn’t new to see Nat changing, but you still thought it would be decent to make her aware of your presence. The small “ahem” was enough to make her spin round and flash you a smile, her pearly white teeth on show.

“Hi babe, i’m just changing for bed. You okay?”

The words felt so unfamiliar to you, having not heard them in what felt like forever. Still, you decided to humour it.

“Yeah, yeah I'm okay. A bit of a weird day is all.”

She laughed, returning to laying out her clothes. “Well, we are surrounded by some weird people.”

“That’s what Tony said.”

There was an atmosphere in the air that you couldn’t quite pinpoint. It had always felt comfortable with Natasha, you would describe her company as being like a safety blanket, enveloping you with warmth and a sense of security. This felt different. It didn’t feel familiar anymore, it was like you were face to face with a stranger and the more you looked at her, the more it upset you.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Natasha put her palms on your cheeks, bringing your Y/E/C eyes to meet her emerald ones in the process. You hadn’t realised that tears had fallen until the pad of her thumbs gently brushed them away.

“I just, it sounds so stupid.”

“Tell me.”

You let out a sigh, eyes beginning to dart around the room. “It just feels like I’ve never seen you, I don’t remember the last time we’ve spoken and it’s, it’s been lonely.” Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion at your response, lips falling into a frown, but you were quick to speak again.

“It hasn’t just been you though, I understand that work gets in the way, but, it felt like some members of the team were acting differently around me.”

“Really? Like who?”

“Well, I mean, Bruce could barely bring himself to say anything more than a sentence to me and I tried to speak to Steve just before I came here and he rushed off like his life depended on it. I don’t know, maybe I’m just being a bit paranoid.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing, Detka, I wouldn’t worry about it.” She whispered, hands pulling you forward with ease to bring your lips together. You smiled at the contact, you’d missed it.

You were so caught up in it, that you hadn’t noticed you were the only one smiling.

It wasn’t long before the both of you were interrupted by an electronic voice in the room.

“Miss Romanoff, Miss Y/L/N.” It was F.R.I.D.A.Y. “Mr Stark is asking for you both in the conference room.”

“Alright, thanks F.R.I.D.A.Y., we’re on our way.” Your girlfriend replied, rushing away from the kiss and leading you to the door.

Why was everyone in such a rush today?

_______________________

“So, I was messing around with some things in the lab, and I think I've found a solution to our suit issue. It’s still a work in progress because I'll need to tweak some things and then tailor them blah blah blah, but I thought I'd show you guys the latest. JARVIS?”

“Bringing up footage 182.”

While you waited for the video to be up and running, you took note of everyone sitting around you. For the most part, they looked tired, though you don’t blame them, it was pretty late.

Shuffling to your left, you held Natasha’s hand in yours, sending her a loving gaze before resting your head on her shoulder, just content that she was close by. She sat a little straighter at the action, careful not to push you off of her, but not entirely relaxing either.

The large tv screen lit up, a view from the corner of the lab came into sight where you could see Tony installing different wires and pieces of loose metal into the suit, watching it light up as he did so. He was in the middle of explaining what he was doing as the recording went on, when the screen suddenly turned to static, black and white lines taking over the screen.

“JARVIS?”

“Minor technical issue, working on it, Mr Stark.”

You caught Wanda’s eye across the table, a playful smirk plastered onto her face at the mishap, watching the billionaire get stressed over a television. You couldn’t help but laugh at the words flying from his mouth as he started hitting the remote, as if he was someone who didn’t understand technology.

It wasn’t long before an image appeared back on the screen, however, this wasn’t the same recording. This is from the gym. It focused on one of the square mats in the middle of the room where two people were sparring. One of which, you immediately recognised as Natasha.

The other person definitely wasn’t a girl, their hair was short and muscles so big you were worried that one slice would be the end. It zoomed in a little, and from the blonde hair and dark blue outfit, you pieced together who it was.

“Oooh, Black Widow and the SuperSoldier, one vs one. Now this should be interesting.” A previously tired looking Sam clapped his hands and leaned forward, now fully invested in the scene in front of him.

You turned to Nat, who now looked a little paler than she did before.

“You look like you’ve just seen a ghost, don’t tell me, you lost this spar?” You joked, expecting her to join in and tease you back. Instead, her face displayed an emotion you weren’t entirely sure of.

Before you could question it, you noticed the room fall silent. Not even a breath could be heard in the room. Your head turned slowly, meeting a mixture of shocked and sympathetic faces. And that was when you saw it.

Nat had kissed Steve, and he didn’t stop her.

If you weren't aware of your heartbeat before, you couldn’t be now, for it felt like it had completely stopped. Your jaw fell as your eyes filled with tears, only worsening the longer you saw the two of them on the screen. It was only turned off when a third person walked into view, not needing to ponder on who it could be, you immediately faced guilty stares. Three of them.

“You- you kissed-” You stuttered, incapable of forming a sentence towards your teammate. “And, you knew?” Your voice broke, tears now beginning to find their way down your cheeks for the second time as Bruce couldn’t bring himself to answer you.

You swiftly rose out of your seat, attempting to keep yourself composed until you could be alone.

“Baby-” Natasha murmured, trying to take hold of your hand, which you snatched back before she could lay a finger on it.

“Don’t.”

“Please-”

“Leave me alone.” You spat, speed walking out of what now felt like an overcrowded room.

You didn’t hear it, you’d left too early, but if you had stayed, you would’ve heard the team give Nat and Steve the scolding of their lives, mainly from Wanda and Tony, telling them how disappointed they were in them both. How they’d be lucky if you were to forgive them for what they did.

________________________

You don’t know how long you’d been sitting on your shared bed for. It could’ve been an hour, it could’ve been a couple of minutes. All you knew, was that you couldn’t stay in this room much longer, looking at the picture frames and the shared wardrobe, it just felt painful.

So, you walked over to your wardrobe and gathered every item of your clothing into your arms, lacking any care for if there were hangers or labels in the way, and chucked them on the bed and started to chuck it all into a suitcase intended for holidays but, you don’t see that happening anytime soon.

The sound of sniffles and rustling was all you could hear in the room, so much so that it was suffocating, and it didn’t help when you heard the door creak open.

“What are you doing?” A voice squeaked. Natasha stood beside the door, fidgeting with her fingers as she anxiously bounced from one foot to the other. You didn’t even bother to look up in her direction, focusing solely on getting out of there as soon as you could.

“Baby, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened, I didn’t mean it.” You scoffed at her attempt at an explanation. “I love you.”

That’s what made you whip your head to see her red and puffy eyes, if this was any other situation, you would’ve rushed over and engulfed her in a hug, tell her that everything would be okay and you’re there for her. Now? All you felt was anger.

“If you loved me, you wouldn’t have kissed him.”

“I didn’t know-”

You stood up straight, almost laughing at her choice of words. “You didn’t know? Bullshit. I’m pretty fucking sure everyone is aware when they kiss someone. Did you know when you were kissing me then? Or did you not know that either?”

“I wasn’t thinking.”

“I don’t think I care.”

She tries to step closer to you, only for you to take one back, holding your hand out, indicating for her to stop.

“No. no, you know what Nat, you don’t get to do this. You don’t get to treat me like a stranger for weeks, like I'm sharing a bed with someone I don’t know, for you to then kiss someone else and expect me to forgive you. You have no idea how I've felt these past weeks, blaming myself and thinking I was selfish for wanting your time. It’s funny, really.”

She looked away from you, regret taking over her features, both of you now having tear stains covering your rosy red cheeks.

You broke the silence once again. “Was that the first time?”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Y/N-” She pleaded

“Answer the question, Natasha.” You spoke through gritted teeth.

Silence returned to the four walls.

“Get out.”

“No, no, we-” She stepped forward, only to halt herself when she realised what she was doing.

“There is no ‘we’. We’re done. I’ll have my stuff moved back into my room by tonight, though I'm sure it won’t make much of a difference to you.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“Whatever.”

She walked out of the room, hesitating slightly, wondering if it’s worth staying and trying to figure out whatever this is. She shook her head to herself, knowing she’d fucked up. There wasn’t a fight anymore. It was done.

Collapsing on the bed, the feeling washed over you again as the finality of it all set in. You didn’t stop though. You packed your clothes, your perfumes, all of your loose hair ties and left the room with only one thought on your mind.

Natasha won’t even notice the difference.

Taglist: @natashas-favourite-knives @wandaromanova

#Natasha romanoff #Natasha romanoff x reader #Natasha x reader #Natasha romanoff x Y/N #Natasha romanova #Natasha x fem!reader #Natasha romanoff angst #Natasha angst #Black widow #Black widow x reader #Marvel #Natasha romanoff imagine #Natasha romanoff oneshot #Natasha romanoff fanfiction #Natasha romanoff smut #Natasha romanoff fluff #Natasha romanoff x fem!reader

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afriendlyblackhottie · 4 years ago

Text

Tamed

Summary: Steve is tired of you being rude.

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Bratty!Black!Reader

Warnings: smut, Captain kink, dubcon, blowjob, rough sex, dirty talk, creampie

(A/N: I have writers block so I forced myself to finish this WIP. This is has been a WIP for a loooooong time like one of my first stories but I never finished it 😬. Like, follow, reblog 💜 ✌🏾)

Tagging: @titty-teetee @olyvoyl @donutloverxo @queenoftheworldisdead @zaddychris @harrysthiccthighss @thesecretlifeofdaydreamss (it wouldn’t let me tag you) @iam-laiya @hqneyyincc @liquorlaughslove @brattycherubwrites @mariahthelioness29

——————————————————————————

Steve was clearly irritated with you. The way you walked around the compound like you owned the place. How you'd almost fucked up the last mission because you acted like you couldn't listen to his direction. He couldn't help, but think about what would have happened if you'd gotten hurt worse than the few scrapes and bruises you'd ended up with. Being the tiny little thing you were, no more than five foot four you were easily breakable despite how tough you seemed.

Now you were walking around the compound like a pouty brat because you'd been officially benched for a few weeks. He'd ripped into you as soon as you'd gotten home and even though he didn't know it you stood in the shower washing all the dirt and blood on you with blood shot eyes because you'd rather die than admit that he hurt your feelings.

Since then you'd been giving him the silent treatment. When he talked you ignored him. When you felt really annoyed you'd leave the room if he was there. You'd proven you could handle yourself from the start and yet he still didn't trust you and it made you want to throw something at his stupid perfect face.

Except right now you two there the only ones home. It was probably the first time ever that it'd happened. Natasha, Sam, and Bucky were on a mission for once letting Steve have a week off. Wanda and Vision were away on some romantic getaway. Tony was doing business with Pepper. Rhodey had been deployed to Korea for a few months. Bruce was giving assistance to a village that was being ravaged by sickness. Thor was god knows where.

You'd been spending your days either watching bad reality shows, reading, working out, scrolling through Instagram and Twitter, chatting with your non-hero friends, or eating junk food that you'd normally be scolded about. All while acting like Steve wasn't there even though he was annoyingly around you.

You had on a pair of way too short booty shorts that made your ass peek out. When you'd gotten cold and instead of changing into pants you pulled on a pair of thigh high socks. You laid on your stomach with Love and Hip Hop Hollywood playing in the background even though you weren't paying attention, legs up and swaying back and forth.

He'd walked into the common room eyes narrowed as he zeroed into you. You rolled your eyes as soon as you felt his presence. "We need to talk," he pretty much demanded.

You didn't look up, still scrolling on your phone. "Mmmm," you hummed.

"Whatever your problem is this needs to stop," he said.

You bit your tongue before taking a deep breath. You liked a picture that a beauty guru had just posted. "Mhm."

"The games need to stop, Y/N- wait, are you listening to me?" He asked. His voice was sharp. Inside you actually wanted to run and hide, but you were kind of determined to keep up this whole charade.

"Yup," you popped before a yawned escaped from your lips.

He kissed his teeth, chuckling sarcastically before reaching over to snatch the pink device out of your hands.

"Hey!" You protested immediately turning over. "What the fuck!"

"Oh glad to have your attention now," he mocked.

"Give me my phone!" You demanded, standing up to grab it from the much taller man. He held it out of reach and you stood on your tippy toes to make an unsuccessful attempt.

He smirked, kind of enjoying seeing your struggle. "Listen and maybe I will."

You glared at him, plopping down on the couch as you crossed your arms. "You're such an asshole!"

"You know what?" He yanked you up by your arm with a bruisingly tight grip the force making you gasp.

"What the fu-"

"Shut up," his tone was demanding once again. "I'm tired of you walking around here like a fucking disrespectful brat."

As much as you loved to push his buttons, you'd never seem him like this. He rarely cussed. Never had he talked to you like this before. "And, you're being an asshole," you couldn''t stop yourself from saying.

"Maybe if you learned how to follow directions, I wouldn't have to do shit to put you in your place." He'd managed to grab both of your hands, holding onto them tightly. His other hand went to your neck, putting just enough pressure to let you know he meant business. “Wanna keep talking shit?”

It was unlike you to suddenly get so quiet as you bit your bottom lip. This didn’t go unnoticed by him as his eyes were immediately drawn to your mouth.

“So this is what you needed.” He kissed his teeth. “Needed me to put you in your fucking place, huh.”

You shook your head not being able to help yourself as you still made an attempt at defiance. Of course you fucking liked it. Part of the reason you liked to annoy him was because he was kind of cute when he was all riled up. You just weren’t expecting him to go this far.

He turned you around, his hold still around your neck as he let your arms fall. Your back was against his front pressed to his strong chest. Your ass against his now hardening dick. The friction felt so good. You were itching for him to rip your tiny shorts away so he could have his way with you. “Am I going to have to teach you how to be good to your Captain?”

You let out a small gasp then still shook your head once again. “No,” you blurted out. You just couldn’t help it. He brought out the best in you. That doesn’t mean you didn’t want him to fuck you up for it.

“No?” He pushed you forward to where your ass was sticking up in the air. “Are you trying to make it worse for yourself?”

“Steve-“

“Captain,” he cut you off to correct you, ripping your shorts down your legs like you’d wanted him to along with your panties. “You call me Captain when you speak to me until you learn some fucking manners.”

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered.

“Wait, what was that?” He teased as he started to rub your slit.

You didn’t reply instead trying to wrap your head around how he was touching you.

“I asked you to repeat yourself,” He said, his finger settling on his clit.

You licked your lips and tried to swallow your moaning. “I don’t remember.”

“Don’t fucking play with me right now,” he said smacking your ass so hard you knew you’d bruise.

“Captain!” You gasped.

It was like a whirlwind when he picked you up to throw you over his shoulder. You struggled against him, trying to wiggle away as he carried you off. None of it fazed him as you hit his muscular back. All he did was slap your ass your phone and ripped shorts went out of view. Fucking Steve. Those were your favorite pair.

He threw you on his bed, making you bounce up and then back down. “Ste- Captain,” you corrected yourself quickly, “why are you being such a, a-” you tried to find the right word.

“A what?” He snapped, grabbing you by your hair, daring you to finish.

“An asshole,” you finally said.

He grabbed your chin, squeezing your jaw before pulling away to slap your cheek. “Because you fucking deserve it.”

“Ow!” You whined. He ignored it as he forced you off the bed and onto your knees in front of him. Steve undid his pants, sliding them down his body. Your mouth dropped as his cock came into view. It was so long and thick and veiny. Of course even his dick would be perfect. “Holy fuck.”

He took advantage of your open mouth, putting the head on your lips fisting his hands into your hair again. “You gonna be a good cocksucker for me, Honey?” He grunted.

You moaned around him as you hallowed out your cheek. His language was still surprising to you, but you were still turned on like fuck. You pulled away from him quickly so you could take off your tank top, letting your tits fall free before sticking your tongue out so you could suck his dick again.

You tried taking him down your throat, but it wasn’t easy considering how big he was. Hell you had to open your mouth really wide to even take him in your mouth. How would was your poor pussy supposed to handle this.

"I've been thinking about fucking your mouth for so long, Baby," he moaned as he put a hand on your cheek, smoothing his thumb over your cheek. You looked so perfect like this. Pouty lips around his dick as he fucked your throat, his balls hitting your chin, and your beautiful eyes watering. "You look so pretty with Daddy's cock in your mouth."

Who knew Steve Rogers had such a filthy mouth.

"Stop, Baby," he said, pulling his cock out of your mouth. Your lips were so swollen and cheeks puffy. "Finally you're being a good girl. C'mere." He helped you onto your feet before pecking your mouth. "Look at these pretty tits," he said, bringing his hands up to palm your mounds, tweaking your nipples between his fingers before laying a smack on each other.

You yelped and tried to back away from him, only for him to grab your wrist again to spin you around. You were back to square one, but this time you were naked.

"That's it, Baby. Look at that pretty little body. I'm gonna destroy that pretty pussy," he whispered in your ear and you keened.

He walked you over to the bed and shoved you down so your ass was up in the air giving him total access to your cunt. He laid a smack on it before bringing his hands to your pussy again.

"You're soaking, Baby. You want me to fuck you, huh."

You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of admitting it to him, but yes. In the back of your mind you'd always wanted him. Always wanted him to take you. Dominate you. Fuck you into submission.

He was just now finally taking what he pretty much already owned.

"Answer me, Y/N. Or else I'll make sure you don't get the chance to cum."

You moaned. "Yes."

"Yes what?" He asked, smacking your ass again.

And, again you let out a yelp. "Yes, I want you to fuck me." And that's when he entered you, full force from behind not even giving you a chance to adjust to his big dick. Your pussy was being forced to stretch around him. As much as it hurt, as much as it felt like you were being violated, you fucking loved it.

You pressed your face into the mattress letting out a moan into it. "You're gonna act like a bitch, I'm gonna fuck you like one," he grunted. The grip on your ass was bruising. You'd be all kinds of marked up in the morning.

“Captain,” you moaned as he stuffed himself inside of you.

His dick was hitting that spot inside of you. It was driving you crazy. He looked down seeing himself go into you and the way your tight cunt still hugged his dick as he pulled out. It left his creamy wetness on his cock. “Fuck,” he moaned under his breath. “God, that’s such a pretty sight to see. I could take a picture.”

All of that with the way you were moaning for him. Those cute whimpers that kept coming up through your throat. Maybe next time you could make a little movie so he could play it back later.

“See, little girls like you talk all that shit and can’t even take a dick. So pathetic.”

“Yes, Captain,” you cried out. “Yes. Fuck me.” It hurt so good the way he was doing you. The grip he had on your ass and the way he was forcing you to take every single thick inch. He was rutting into you like he had something to teach you and you had definitely learned your lesson. “I’m gonna cum,” you whined. “I’m gonna... I’m, I’m, I’m...”

“Already? Couldn’t even handle it a little bit?”

“Yes!” You screamed into the pillow. “Yes. Yes. Yesyesyesyesyes!” You came undone around him for the first time. Eyes rolling into the back of your head, body going stiff. It felt like every sense had been intensified. He didn’t stop. Keeping up his pace because he wasn’t ready. He needed to make sure he left you all fucked out. Needed to show you who was boss.

“See, that’s such a good girl. Cumming all for your Captain,” he said, grabbing your hair as your pussy tightened around him. It kept going like that for a few thrusts because he was trying to leave you sore and bruised before finally pulling out of you so he could push you onto your back.

He didn’t even give you a chance to react as he entered you again. “Captain!” You were to the point where actual tears were coming down your face. Not that it was going to stop him. Being a whiney little baby wasn’t going to get you anywhere with him. “I’ll be good!”

“That’s right,” he said. “I know you fucking will.”

“I’m sorry for being such a brat,” you sobbed as your body didn’t stop convulsing. He held your legs by your thighs.

“Don’t you ever, ever question my authority ever again.” He was pounding you so good with no mercy. He was so deep you could feel him in your stomach yet your pussy couldn’t get enough.

“I know I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Captain.” You sobbed as you tried to take what he was giving you, but it was starting to be too much.

“See that’s better,” he said not stopping as he fucked you hard. “Isn’t that better?”

You nodded feeling yourself on the verge of another orgasm. Your stomach tightening as he had you feeling like you were bent in half. How the fuck were you supposed to come back from this. There was no way you were letting another man fuck you ever again. No one would be able to fuck you this hard and rough.

He put one of your legs over his shoulder so he could somehow get deeper. You should have known that Steve Rogers would be a perfectionist even when he was hate fucking you. Yet you didn’t want him to ever stop.

“I’m fucking cumming.” You squealed.

“Now you can’t stop cumming on my dick,” he grunted. “Should have fucked the brat out of you forever ago.”

“Yes, Captain, yes,” you cried as you squirted around him. “Fuck, yes.” Your mouth dropped open. The look of desperation and ecstasy was only making him want to fully make you his. Made him want to cum in your tight cunt. Made him want to cum so deep inside of you.

Fuck it he wasn’t going to hold back. He grabbed your hair holding it tight as he finally started to unload inside of you. Wanting to give you every single drop of his white hot seed.

“Gonna cum so deep in this pussy,” he couldn’t stop himself as he rammed so deep inside of you, stilling so he could make sure you felt every inch. The feeling of him flooding your pussy made you tighten around him, gripping his dick like a vice. “Fuck!”

“Yes, Captain!” You raked your nails on his back as his hips stuttered into you before slumping on top of you.

Your heart was pounding in your chest as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He took a deep breath as he looked up at you. Surprising the both of you by kissing your lips.

He rolled off of you, pulling you into his arms. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

“No. Don’t say sorry.” You shook your head wincing at how tender you felt. “I’m sorry for being a bitch.”

“It’s okay.” He chuckled. “I’m just not used to being talked back to. I actually kind of liked it. That’s why I went so crazy.”

You smirked. “Well, Captain, I can keep doing what I was doing.”

“Don’t push your luck. Or next time I might not be so nice.”

#Steve Rogers smut #Chris Evans smut #steve rogers x black!reader #steve rogers x reader smut #Steve Rogers x reader #chris evans x black!reader #Chris Evans x reader #Chris Evans x reader smut

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kasienda · 3 years ago

Text

A Miraculous Reveal: A Gift of Responsibility

It had seemed like an ordinary day. Except that Marinette had been on time for school. That, like, almost never happened. But here she was in her seat ten minutes before class was to begin, snacking on a croissant her father had handed her on the way out the door and chatting idly with Alya about nothing remotely important.

Her classmates filed in slowly in clumps until finally everyone except Adrien was in their seats. She watched his empty seat with a hint of worry. She always hated when he wasn’t there - knowing he was either trapped in a photoshoot he cared nothing about, or was home in bed with illness.

But before her anxiety could spiral too deep, he slipped casually through the doorway. But he paused, facing the whole class. He smiled softly as his gaze swept the room, but there was something sad and wistful about his expression.

“Are you okay?” she asked him.

His spring-green eyes whipped back to her, and his smile grew. “Yes, of course. I just… I have some changes coming up, and I just wanted to savor this normal morning.”

“What changes?” Nino asked.

“Oh… ummm…” Adrien’s hand flew to the back of his neck. “I’m going to go back to home schooling in a week.”

Keep reading on Ao3

Marinette’s eyes shot open, and her gut twisted painfully.

“What?!” Alya exploded.

“That’s so uncool, dude!” Nino was shouting. “What toe did you step out of line this time?”

Marinette couldn’t speak through the lump in her throat or the churning in her stomach.

Adrien shook his head. “I agreed to it, actually,” he admitted.

“What?! Why?!” Nino demanded, his face looked exactly how Marinette felt. What would life be like without Adrien’s kind and patient smile offering her warmth and comfort? What would his life be like when he was being shuffled between photoshoots and tutors without anyone who wasn’t being paid a salary to remain in his presence?

“He needs my help,” Adrien said. “Nathalie is sick, and he’s under a lot of pressure and apparently he wants to start training me in the… family business. He said I can still have you all over once a week.”

She and Nino exchanged a glance. Of course, Gabriel would buy Adrien’s compliance by offering the one thing Adrien always strived for - his father’s high opinion and attention.

“You’re even allowed to all visit at the same time, so we could have, like parties, and movie nights!” Adrien exclaimed, his face lighting in genuine delight, and Marinette couldn’t help reciprocate the expression. “That was our compromise,” he added softly before his eyes fell into his lap and he trailed off into silence. “I know it won’t be the same,” he whispered.

“It’s okay, dude,” Nino reassured with a huge smile. Marinette was completely confident Nino was burying his own feelings to put on a brave face for Adrien. “We understand. This is a chance to spend time with your old man.”

Adrien nodded in agreement. “Yeah, it’ll be nice,” Adrien agreed, but his expression didn’t match his tone, and Marinette grew more worried.

Her hand reached for his shoulder. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” she asked.

His smile stretched fondly across his face as his green eyes turned to her. Heat bloomed in her cheeks and she glanced down into her hands.

“Yes, Marinette. I’m okay with it. I think it’ll work out well for a lot of people.”

She made herself smile back at him. If he was excited, she wouldn’t poison it with her worries. At least she was still going to get to see him every now and again.

“Actually, Marinette?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I talk to you after class? Alone?”

The blush in her cheeks burned hotter. “Uh… y-yes, absolutely.”

She didn’t need to look at Alya, to feel the heat of her friend’s teasing gaze. Marinette kicked her from under the table.

But then class was starting, Adrien had turned back around to face the front, and Marinette had to pretend that she wasn’t going out of her mind about whatever it was that Adrien wanted to talk to her about.

The morning went by agonizingly slow. Like the clocks had clearly been spelled to go backwards when they weren’t being directly observed or something.

When their morning classes finally concluded, Alya departed rapidly, hooking Nino’s arm through her elbow and dragging him away on her way out. Adrien watched them leave arm in arm with a sad smile before he turned back to her.

“Shall we?” he asked.

And she nodded, not trusting her tongue to form a coherent response, before following him out.

It didn’t take long for them to find some privacy in a private alcove. She knew it was a good spot to not be seen. She had transformed here more than once.

“So, I have a confession to make,” he said into the silence, his eyes gazing directly into her eyes.

She nodded rapidly urging him to continue, trying to ignore her heart, which was currently threatening to beat out of her chest.

“I lied earlier. I don’t have another week. Today is my last day.”

Whatever she had been expecting or hoping he would say, that was not it. “I… What? Why?”

“I just… I didn’t want everyone to make a big deal out of it today. I just… wanted one last normal day,” his gaze had shifted past her, and his sadness struck her in the chest.

“I understand,” she said. “I won’t tell anyone.”

He smiled again. “Thank you, Marinette. You’ve always been so good with secrets.”

“Is this what you wanted to talk about?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Actually, no.” And he reached into his bag and pulled out a small wrapped package. “I have something for you.” He handed it to her.

“For me? What about the others?”

“This could only be for you, Marinette.” His tone was so certain and yet so gentle. How was she ever going to get over this boy?

She started to open it, but his hands covered her.

“Open it when you get home,” he said.

Her eyebrows furrowed. “You don’t want to see what I think of it?”

He shook his head. “I’m quite confident you’d give me an earful, but…”

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “How much did you spend on me?”

He held his hands up in surrender. “None, actually… Not that you’re not completely worth it! This just isn’t that kind of gift!” he told her. “Just… promise me that you’ll open it as soon as possible.”

“You sure you don’t want me to open it now?”

“I’m certain! It’s… private… and embarrassing! I don’t want anyone else to see it. It’s only for you, okay?”

Her eyebrows furrowed together. It was like he was trying to tell her something, but wasn’t allowed to say it out loud. “Okay,” she agreed.

He smiled. “Thank you, Marinette.” And he pulled her into a hug. She let herself linger for a second, but then tried to pull away. He just squeezed her harder, and she let herself melt against him, her arms wrapping around his back.

A second later, she realized his whole form was shaking.

He was crying.

She had no idea what to do.

“Adrien? Is… everything okay?”

He pulled away, and wiped his eyes. He was shaking his head. “No,” he said, but then he smiled through his tears at her. “But it will be. I promise you that.”

And then he was leaving, and she didn’t know what to say to bring him back. She just clutched the small package to her chest, wondering what might be inside.

…

The second Marinette was through the bakery doors of her family home, she bolted upstairs without so much as a “Hey, how was your day?” to either of her parents.

She pulled the wrapped parcel from her bag as she was climbing the slanted ladder to her room, and the second the trap door was closed, she dropped her bag unceremoniously to the floor, and Tikki buzzed excitedly in the air beside the present.

“What’d he get you?” Tikki asked.

“I don’t know,” Marinette said, even as she was tearing through the paper wrapper.

She finally revealed a little black box and a letter that had been folded up eight times to fit under the box.

She opened the box and her giddy excitement vanished like a puff of smoke. In its place, she felt raw dread twisting in her gut.

Before she could even ask Tikki for confirmation, A sparkling green light confirmed her fears. This was Chat Noir’s ring.

Plagg manifested right in front of her. He whirled around, taking in her room.

“Damnit kid! I told you to not be rash,” he grumbled. “Hiya pigtails! How’re things?” he asked casually as if it was completely normal to see her every afternoon.

“Plagg?!” Marinette screeched. “What are you doing here? What happened to Chat?”

“Well, obviously he must have given me to you,” Plagg said.

And Marinette felt dizzy. If that was true, Adrien was Chat Noir. But she couldn’t scream about that now. Something was wrong.

“But why?” she demanded. Something was wrong.

“Did you read his letter?” Plagg asked.

She tore open the letter, ripping it once in her haste, but it was fine. She could still read it.

Her eyes scanned through his words rapidly.

Please forgive me, princess, for putting this on your shoulders.

My partner and I have been chasing the same guy pretty much since the day you and I met. And yesterday, I found out who he is.

He’s my father.

That last line was blurred with obvious tear stains.

I am entrusting you with this keepsake that was gifted to me because it is no longer safe with me. I couldn’t even risk using it one more time to contact my partner as I’m more closely protected than before. It’s far safer with you.

And I’m asking that you do more than keep it safe. I’m hoping you will use it and take on the role that I once did in protecting my partner.

And I know that is a lot to ask. But I’ve watched you handle all the tools in the box simultaneously, and you’re an absolute natural, princess. I have no doubt that you could fill my role seamlessly.

My father’s assistant has fallen ill. He used to rely on her for everything, but now that she’s sick he has entrusted her role to me.

But I can’t. I can’t betray my partner. I love her.

Please entrust everything I’ve said to my partner whether or not you decide to fill my shoes. I hope together, the two of you can come up with a plan to deal with my father.

And make it fast.

I don’t know how long I can pull off pretending.

~Your Black Knight

She was barely aware of the tears pouring down her face. She was too angry.

“Plagg! Is he okay? Tell me he’s okay!” He hasn’t seemed okay during lunch. He had seemed sad all day, but at lunch, when they had been alone he had broken down for a moment.

“I mean… he’s physically fine. The bastard didn’t hit him or anything. And on some level the man is trusting his son for the first time since his wife disappeared.”

His wife! Adrien’s mother! That was why he was doing this, wasn’t it?

Marinette could almost understand. Almost. She thought she might be capable of anything to protect her loved ones.

But she liked to think that she would have stopped once she realized how much she was hurting others. She wasn’t sure though.

“But my kid’s heart is breaking that he has to betray him in the end,” Plagg continued.

Then she shook her head at herself. Her partner was so good and so pure, that he was willing to stand against his own father. Willing to throw a wrench into a plan to bring back his own mother. Because it was the right thing to do.

Marinette would follow his example. Her hand tightened around Chat Noir’s - around Adrien’s - ring.

Gabriel didn’t deserve her understanding anyway.

Because Gabriel hadn’t just hurt Chat Noir with his Akumas. Adrien himself had been a victim of them on several occasions occasion, he had been the target more than once.

What kind of father did that to his own son?

She slipped on the ring.

“Marinette!” Tikki shrieked. “You cannot unify myself and Plagg,” she warned. “Not without risking reality itself.”

Marinette nodded. “I understand, Tikki. Don’t worry. I have a plan.”

As Chat Noir has pointed out, Marinette could use every miraculous in the box. And she wasn’t going to wait.

Because she had a partner to save, a friend to hold in a never ending hug until he was well and truly cried out, and a love to fight for.

Hawkmoth wouldn’t know what hit him.

#miraculous ladybug fan fiction #adrinette #marichat #identity reveal #asking for help #sos #marinette is a bamf #adrien needs a hug #a miraculous reveal #my own content

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hongism · 4 years ago

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call me maybe - s. mingi 18+

day 22 of kinktober: guided masturbation - song mingi warnings: video call sex, mutual masturbation, guided masturbation, camboy mingi, client reader, cum eating, daddy kink, dirty talk wc: 1.6k genre: pwp, smut, 18+

“Touch yourself for me.” The command is spoken in a clean and crisp tone, one that compels you to obey without any hesitation. A chill takes over your whole body and surges through your veins. You snake a hand down the bare expanse of your chest.

On any other day, you would feel embarrassed to be so exposed and on display in front of a total stranger. However, the sight of his hard and leaking cock before you makes you gain much more confidence in the show you’re putting on. Somehow you wouldn’t call Song Mingi a total stranger either — he’s a camboy you’ve been watching for several months now, so you’ve had the pleasure of seeing him in intimate and exposed positions like the one the two of you are in now, but this is a whole different level.

As his hand drags over his thick length, you release a small whimper. You want nothing more than to be able to reach through the computer screen and replace his large hard with your significantly smaller one, see the way his cock sits against your palm and makes you look even smaller. His tanned skin glows under the yellow lights of his room, causing the sheen of sweat over his chest to glimmer. Were you able to be there in person, you’re confident that you would ravish his whole body with your tongue and leave his covered in sweet love bites. Almost as though he reads your mind, Mingi hums and reaches up to tweak his nipple. It draws a deep moan from his full and swollen lips. Just as he moans, your own hand finds your sopping folds. The amount of arousal there should be embarrassing, but Mingi merely arches a brow as he looks at the display before him on his own screen.

How did you get so lucky again? Manage to win a one on one video call with your favorite camboy? Is this even real life? Surely it must be a dream because you would never dare to believe that you could have such a stroke of good luck. You must not be paying enough attention to Mingi now; he clears his throat to garner your attention – which you give to him in less than a second, mind you – and he speaks once again in that low, gravelly tone. It sends shockwaves of arousal every time you hear it, but now it feels so much more intimate having him one on one in this manner.

“I said to touch yourself for Daddy, baby girl.”

The whine that escapes you is borderline pathetic. You turn your cheek to avoid Mingi’s heated stare, although your hand doesn’t stop moving between your folds.

“Good girl,” he praises when your fingers slip through the wetness there. “Keep touching yourself just like that for me.”

You wouldn’t dream of disobeying him now, so you build up a steady rhythm, drawing small circles over your clit as Mingi watches on with a hawk-like gaze. He refuses to touch his twitching member for what feels like hours; instead, he settles for surveying your movements while roaming his hands across the skin of his chest. You follow each shift and shuddering muscle, letting your free hand dance up to brush over a nipple. The bud hardens under your touch. It leaves you wanting more, but Mingi lifts his chin and stops your needy touches before they can even begin.

“Not without my permission, baby girl.” He clicks his tongue against his palate. “Bring your fingers to that pretty little cunt. I want you to fuck yourself nice and slow for me.” You do as told and push two fingers into your fluttering hole. The pressure builds between your legs, the sounds of your pleasure coming out in the wet pulses of your hand as you work yourself open before Mingi’s eyes. “Mhm, just like that. Such a pretty baby, opening yourself like that for me. Can you spread your legs a bit wider?”

“Y-Yes, Da-addy,” you stammer and press your legs further. Mingi leans closer to the camera as though by instinct, enraptured by the sight of your fingers fucking in and out of your squelching cunt.

“So, so good. I bet your walls would be so tight around my fat cock, don’t you think?”

“Yes, yes, Daddy.”

“More,” Mingi commands. Your lips tremble as you push your hips forward, thrusting your fingers into yourself at a new angle in attempts to reach deeper. It’s almost too difficult for you to handle; your fingers aren’t nearly long enough for this kind of activity, but that doesn’t seem to be stopping Mingi. If anything, it causing his teasing to grow in quantity. “Aw, poor little baby. Your fingers aren’t enough, are they?”

“N-No,” you whimper before sinking your teeth into your lower lip.

“Wish they were my long fingers instead? I bet I could fill up that tight pussy with just one.”

“P-Please,” you beg, and at this point, you aren’t even sure what you’re asking for. Mingi’s hand snakes back down to his dick. He collects a bead of precum on his index finger then brings the large digit to his lips, lapping at the wetness on the tip. Your mouth falls open without you meaning for it to, and you can almost taste his seed on your tongue. Oh, the things you would give to be under him right now. Or on top of him. You don’t care really as long as he can be here with you in person. Sadly, you have to settle for this.

“You’re gonna cum with me, aren’t you?” He speaks it like a question, but the underlying demand is more than present. You nod like a madman, hair bobbing with the motion. Mingi gulps air down like it’s water, and his Adam’s Apple protrudes a bit more as he swallows. His head falls back, hand jerking over his thick length, and possibly the hottest moans you’ve ever heard in your life tumble from his lips. It’s a bit self-centered really, but you can’t help but to feel like you’re the one drawing such noises out of him. It causes you to moan back, wanting Mingi to know that he is having a similar effect on you as well. He seems to appreciate the gesture from what you can tell; his cock twitches weakly in his grip as your noises reach his ears.

“I… Daddy, I’m gonna – I’m gonna cum,” you warn, thumb flicking over your sensitive bud. You twist your fingers deeper inside your cunt and try to pump them in rhythm with Mingi’s hasty jerks on his cock.

“Cum for me then, darling. Fall apart for me, knowing that I’m the one giving you this pleasure right now.”

His words spur you to a mind-blowing orgasm. It’s the best one you’ve ever given yourself, assisted by Mingi’s grunts and sweat-stricken body. He follows close behind you. Bright white ropes of cum spurt from the head of his cock, painting his bare chest and catching on his defined muscles. Without hesitation, Mingi brings his hand up and collects the seed onto his fingers, thrusting those same fingers into his mouth a second later. He laps at his long digits until every drop of cum has disappeared behind his tongue. You can only stare on in surprise with a new curling heat in your gut.

“Your turn,” he murmurs once he pulls his hand back. You offer a hasty nod and tug your own hand to your mouth. If you’re going to eat your own cum like this though, you want to put on an excellent show for Mingi in return for all the shows he puts on for you. Your tongue drags over each finger at a languid pace, spending extra time to swirl the wet muscle through each crevice between your fingers. Mingi watches on with a heavily lidded gaze, eyes so blown out with lust that you can hardly see his irises in the dim light.

“All done,” you say with a certain lilt to your tone, pulling off your last finger and letting the wet pop resound.

“Fuck, that was… you’re hot as hell,” Mingi huffs out through a laugh.

“I guess that’s all then?” You inquire. It’s hard to conceal the disappointment in your tone, but a deal is a deal, and this is all you agreed on before starting. “I’ll see you at your next stream, I suppose.”

“I’ll be on the lookout for your name again, Miss… Y/N.” Mingi’s full lips twist into a playful smile as he leans closer to the camera. That’s the last thing you see too, because the screen goes black a second later, and you’re suddenly left all alone in your room once more. You almost think that’s it, that you’ll never hear from Mingi again and have to go back to the much less exciting activity of merely watching Mingi through his streams. Then your message box on the site dings, and you hastily click on the notification when it pops up.

Message from: fixsong_mingi99

Figured you might need my number for our next visit. Feel free to call whenever.

And there below that short and sweet message lies a phone number, inconspicuous digits showing you exactly what you wanted to hear throughout your whole call with Mingi. That he wanted you too.

...

a/n: okay this was new and exciting and i really had a lot of fun writing it omg im surprised

link to kinktober masterlist

taglist: @noonawriter @daniblogs164 @felixity @okokokok123-45 @jeonartemis @crescent-hwa @wheresmymoniat @nlost21 @lonely10vely @monbecaratstayarmy @hello-its-ya-boi @onyxblade01 @kimnamshiks @poutychangbinnie @toothlessshiber @xxbluestrifexx @lokihoeforhyunjin @ice-cold-taeyong @essantial @blueish-sun @etaerealboy @notbeforelong @wideawakeficrecs @adestinyuwu @simpforhyunjin @naajix @lilyliline21 @leaz-kpop-life @hyunjinsicedamerican0 @marigold-bebee @changbinswifu @xcookiemonsteer @ddalgi-yong @succulentpk @immabiteyou

unable to be tagged: @sailing-goddess-of-ateez @gingerale-addict @jertazz @seoha

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evanstanhoney · 4 years ago

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Please Honey: TTWILI 🌹✨

pairing: dom!chris evans x sub!reader

summary: you help chris take his mind off of things.

word count: 3.2k

⚠️warnings: smut

more of this series can be found here.

Dating Chris for as long as you have, you’ve gotten pretty good at reading one another, you better than him. He didn’t make it too difficult for you, every emotion constantly etched on his face and his heart on his sleeve. And lately, he’d been more stressed than usual with a permanent scowl on his face, and constant huffs every time his phone rang. He tried to put on a brave face for you, and you tried not to pry. To let him come to you when he was ready to talk about whatever it was that was bothering him, but you there was only so much of his pouting that you could take before you gave in.

“Chris?” you ask lifting your head up from his chest. You were tucked under his arm, cuddled up in his side, attempting to watch a movie, but both of your minds were elsewhere. He was drawing mindless patterns up and down your arms, willing himself to focus but he just couldn't. The sound of your voice snapped him out of whatever daze he’d been in.

“I’m fine,” he mumbled, already knowing where things were headed.

“Are you sure about that?” you ask softly, rubbing circles on his stomach. It was something that you learned calmed him down when he was getting worked up.

He takes a moment biting the inside of his cheek. You think he’s going to protests some more, insist that he’s perfectly content but instead, he looks down at you with those doe eyes you love so much, “Actually, can we - can we play?”

That was the last thing you’d expected. It had been a while since you and Chris had done that thing that you do. You’d had sex over the last week of course, but it was nothing more than slow lazy morning sex, or before bed lazy sex. It was lovely, of course, it was always good with Chris. But you hadn't ...played in what felt like ages. And the prospect of finally being able to indulge made your cheeks heat up.

“Like now?” you say in a near whisper, the slightest smile on your face. You were excited, you were finally going to have Chris the way you’d been craving for days.

“Please.” He nods, bringing a hand up to caress your cheek, drawing smooth circles into the skin with his thumb.

“Yeah, yeah - we can.”

His eyes darken, and a smirk graced his lips the moment the words leave your lips. “Go to the room and strip. I’ll be there in a minute.” he leans in for a kiss and it’s deep and slow. You get lost in it for a moment until he pulls away, biting his lip. “Go on.” He rasps, with a tap to your ass, instructing you to make your way to the bedroom and you do.

As soon as you round the corner, you dash into the bedroom, quickly tugging down your shorts and panties, and pulling your shirt over your head. You should be embarrassed by how eager you were, but it’d been so long since you’d gotten to have Chris in this way and you just couldn't hide your excitement. You position yourself in the center of the bed, completely bare of all of your clothes, waiting for him. It doesn’t take long before he walks into the room, slowly a smirk on his lips. He situates himself at the end of the bed.

“Knees, baby.” You knee-walk your way down the bed, crawling onto the floor in front of you on your knees, and the way you are looking up at him, eyes all big and innocent and waiting, it drives him wild. “Remind me of the rules please.”

You go over the rules again like always, reciting your colors and signals, and he praises you with a ‘good girl’, and you are already feeling yourself get to that floaty place that makes you feel tingly all over.

You stay there kneeling, waiting for instructions when he tugs down the sweats already hanging low on his hips, along with his Calvins. He takes himself in his hand pumping a few times letting out a relieved sigh.

“Open.” He demanded, and you obliged, scooting closer to him placing your hands on his thighs and opening wide, “Suck.” without hesitation, you wrap your lips around him and begin bobbing your head, taking him as far as you can, working the rest of him with your hand. You’re rewarded with Chris’s moans of praise, and a caress of your cheek.

“Oh fuck baby. You are doing so good - fuck, you're so good for me.” he huffs, running his hands through your hair, tugging at the roots. “I’m going to fuck your mouth now baby, okay?” He says breathlessly, and you lift off of him for only a second, nodding eagerly. He guides you back on his cock, thrusting in and out of your mouth, holding your head still. His thrusts are slow at first but deep, hitting the back of your throat. You always prided yourself on not having much of a gag reflex. His thrusts picked up speed, and it wasn’t before long he was fucking quicking in and out of your mouth, your hands helping you stay steady on his thighs. He pushed himself to the back of your throat a few times, just staying there enjoying the feeling of your throat constricting around his cock. He let up allowing you to catch your breath before going back in again.

“Fuck your mouth feels so good.” he groans, lifting you off of his cock one final time, “Color baby?” he prompts

“Green. I’m green.” You stutter quickly catching your breath, before reattaching yourself back onto his cock, taking him down your throat. He lets you go on a few more moments, without any assistance from him before he’s pulling back, making you look up at him with curious eyes.

“I’m not coming like this. I’ve got plans for you baby.” he rasps, caressing your cheek running his thumb across your swollen bottom lip. You playfully nip at his thumb, and he smiles down at you, completely smitten.

With one hand under your chin, he guides you back up to your feet, legs a little wobbly. You want to wrap your arms around his neck pulling him close to you but you don’t dare. He never gave you explicit permission you could touch, and you wanted to be good for him. He asked for this, the least you could do was be a good girl and follow the rules. He places both hands on either side of your face, pulling you in for a deep kiss. Nibbling at your bottom lip, tongue grazing at your bottom lip asking for permission to enter which you gladly give. His hand roams down the front of your body, caressing your right breast, giving it a light squeeze, eliciting a moan from you. His hands roam down your body, cupping your heat, feeling the wetness already pooling there.

“Wet from just sucking me off, eh?”

“Always wet for you,” you mumble shyly leaning up again to reattach your lips to his. Your desire gets the better of you, and you find your hands roaming up his shoulders, wrapping around him tangling your fingers in his hair. You give it a light tug, knowing it's one of his favorite things and you get the smallest whimper from him. He’s lost in the feeling of your fingers in his hair, when he remembers his own rules, and quickly untangles your arms from around his neck, and pulls away.

“Did I say you could touch?”

“No. I’m sorry.” you pout, and he smirked down at you, giving your lips a quick peck.

“That’s okay baby.” He says, and any other day he would probably have you over his lap in a second for breaking one of the rules, but he isn’t in the mood to punish you. He just wants to play. “Now up on the bed. Hands and knees.”

You're quick to follow instructions, turning around and positioning yourself in the center of the bed like he’d asked, your ass presented perfectly to him. He couldn’t help the smirk on his face at your eagerness. He would never understand what it was that made you so pliant. Maybe it was the anticipation and excitement of what was to come next, what he would do to make you feel good. Or maybe it was your want, your need to please him. Maybe it was both.

He took hold of your ankle and dragged you back down the bed so you were less center, and closer to the edge. The sudden movement, made you lose your balance and you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips and his heart skipped a beat. There you were ass up, in front of him on display and still, you managed to do something incredibly adorable.

“Sorry honey.” He smiles, picking your hips back up into the air.

“ ‘S okay.” You giggle, and it quickly turns into a moan as his fingers find their way to your pussy, running up and down your folds.

“This feels good?” He smirks, adding just the tiniest bit of pressure to your clit.

“Mmhm, yes.” you nod, pushing your ass back against his hand, and he’s quick to pull away. You knew better. ‘Patience is key, Love’, but it just felt so good you couldn’t help it.

You waited a few moments, waiting for his hand to go back to where you needed him, but instead, you were met with a swift smack to your right ass cheek. It didn’t hurt, but the sudden sting made you cry out.

“You know the rules baby.” He says, hand soothing where he’d just marked you, before putting his hand back where you’d needed him rubbing up and down your folds, spreading the wetness already collecting there. Slowly he inserts a finger, curling it down, hitting that spot deep inside you drawing out a long moan. He begins pumping his finger in and out of you slowly, keeping it perfectly curved hitting your spot over and over again. Just when you think it’s all too much he slowly, inserts another finger in, curling it perfectly as he had before. “Holy shit.” You whine, pushing back against his fingers, earning you another slap to one ass cheek and then the other.

“Honey,” Chris warns, slowing down the pace of his fingers.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” you moan, waiting for him to pick up the pace with his fingers again and he did. You feel yourself tighten around his fingers, heat pooling at the pit of your stomach and you know it’s only a matter of time. “Baby, I gotta come.”

“You can come.” he cooed, and immediately your orgasm hits you nearly knocking the breath out of you.

“Oh fuck.” you sigh, trying to catch your breath. You collapse on the bed, chest heaving when you feel Chris hovering above you, lips trailing kisses up your spine until he's kissing at the back of your neck, planting kisses at that shell of your ear.

“Turn over for me.”

Slowly you turn over, looking up at him with a lazy smile. He leans down, crashing his lips into yours, a hand caressing your side.

“Scoot up,” he says nodding up towards the headboard. You shimmy your way back up the bed, laying down on the pillow, watching as he crawled the way across the bed before he was hovering over you. He leaned down kissing down your neck to your collarbone to your breasts, taking one of your nipples into his mouth, teasing you while his hand tweaked at the other. You arched your chest up to him, moaning at the sensation of his tongue swiping across the bud. As much as you were enjoying Chris's mouth on you, you wanted him inside you more than anything. You snaked your fingers into his hair tugging at his locks, bringing his face up to meet yours.

“Chris -” you whine, but he quickly grasps both your wrist in his one large hand and pins them above your head.

“Keep them here.” He warns, but his eyes are just as soft as ever. He goes back to work on your chest and just as your about to let out another whine, another beg for him to do something else, he’s pulling himself up, and kissing back up your neck.

He takes a hold of himself, rubbing the tip of his cock up and down your folds, and you let out a long moan, relieved to finally feel him. He dips the tip inside, just barely, collecting your wetness before spreading through your folds and rubbing the head of his cock against your clit. It feels so good you can’t help but roll your hips into it.

“Your so wet baby.” He rasps, resting his forehead against yours, “You ready for me?” he asks and you nod furiously, wanting nothing more than to reach out and pull him closer to you. Slowly slides himself inside eyes glued to yours, and you both let out a relieved groan.

“Can I? Please.” You ask biting at your bottom lip, begging him to allow you to touch him and he nods. You quickly wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer to you and wrapping your legs around his waist. His thrusts are slow and shallow. Just barely pulling out before thrusting back in again. It’s just to get you adjusted to his size but it wasn’t enough, you needed more. So you begin rolling your hips up, trying to take him in deeper, but the grip on your hips tighten, and you know you’ll have Chris-shaped bruises in the morning.

“Stay still honey.” He growls, so you do.

Eventually, his thrusts get deeper, and faster until he’s pistoning his hips into you, drawing out moans and whines. Your hands are taking down his back, and he’s got his head buried in your neck, sucking at your favorite spot behind your ear and you can feel yourself getting to that place where you feel floaty and everything gets tingly.

“Chris I’m - oh shit.” you whimper tugging at his hair, “Don’t stop please.” His grip on your hips gets tighter and his pace gets quicker, his sucking on your neck more deliberate. You could feel that coil tightens in your stomach again and before you knew your orgasm came crashing into you. “Oh my god,” you whine into his ear, trying to catch your breath.

“Fuck, that’s my girl” he growls, feeling you contract around him. He stops his thrusts in favor of slow lazy grinding, drawing long deep moans from you. It’s not the prettiest sounds you’ve ever made, but it just feels too good that you can’t be bothered to care.

“Chris, I - I can’t anymore.” You pant, combing your fingers through his hair. He lifts up from your neck, resting his forehead against yours, a smirk on his face.

“You sensitive?” you nod and let out another moan when he hit that spot deep inside you once more. “Come on, give me one more. Please baby. Come with me.” He moans, before leaning down crashing his lips with yours.

“Okay,” you whine pulling him closer to you. He lifts your leg up, hooking it around his waist, and you both groan at the new angle.

“Holy shit, honey.” He says through gritted teeth, he buries himself back into your neck, sucking and licking and nibbling as he started up with a slow pace with his hips once more. His thrusts were still deep and slow but quickly picking up speed as he swiveled his hips. It’s when one of his hands snake up from your hip to your neck with only the slightest bit of pressure do you feel that familiar burn at the pit of your stomach.

“Chris, oh my - fuck-.” you whine

“It’s okay I got you - fuck. I got you.” He groans into your neck “Honey I’m gonna come. Come with me.” he lifts his head out of your neck, resting his forehead against yours, “Please, honey. Come with me”. It only takes a few more thrusts before you’re coming completely undone beneath him, nails raking down his back, chanting a mixture of swears and his name. “Holy shit.” He huffs, his breath fanning across your face.

Your tingly all over, and the only thing that you can sense is Chris. His smell, his weight on top of you, his voice letting out little praises. You looked up at him with a lazy smile, eyes slightly glassed over, “Wow.” you smile, and he lets out a little chuckle.

“You did so good baby.” he praises planting kisses all over your face “How are you feeling?”

“Good. I feel good.” you sigh brushing a curl back that’d fallen in front of his face. “I can’t feel my toes.” you giggle. It didn’t happen always, only when your orgasm was particularly intense, and Chris always was proud of himself when he’d been able to do that for you.

He pulls out of you, and he moves to lift himself away from you and out of bed but you’re quick to pull him back down on top of you.

“I’ll be right back. Gotta get you cleaned up.” He smiles, placing a quick peck on your cheek before disappearing into the bathroom. He’s back in a flash with a washcloth and quickly cleans you up, tossing the towel to the side and pulling the covers back for you to crawl under. He follows in after, pulling you to his chest planting soft kisses on your hair.

“Are you okay?” he asks running his hand up and down your arm “I wasn’t too rough?”

“Did I call it?” you ask referring to your safe word, and he shakes his head “Then I’m fine.” you smile, “you really needed that didn’t you?”

“Yeah.” he chuckles placing a kiss on the top of your head.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

“It’s stupid.”

You look up at him eyebrow raised “If it’s upsetting you then it’s not stupid.”

“It’s just this stupid stuff with the cafe remodel. I just feel like everything is going to shit.”

The cafe remodel was his dream. He’d keep his little cafe downstairs during the day and at night a nice little bar upstairs, perfect for open mic nights for local artists, and poets. It was everything he’s ever wanted, and he wanted it to be perfect.

“It’s going to be a great babe. It’s going to get finished and people are going to love it.”

“I hope so. I’m just anxious about it. And the closer it gets to being done the more things seem to be going wrong. And with all the constructions business is slow. I’m just stressed is all.” he says letting out a huff.

“Well, it’s going to be great.”

“Yeah, I hope so.” he sighs pulling you tighter to him, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For helping me clear my head.”

“Anytime baby.” You smile, placing a sweet kiss on his chest. “Anytime.”

#chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fan fiction #chris evans x black!reader #chris evans x black reader #chris evans concepts #chris evans prompts #chris evans blurb #chris evans imagine #chris evans imagines #my writing #ttwili series #ttwili universe #chris evans smut #dom!chris evans x sub!reader #dom!chris evans

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exquisitley-obsessed · 3 years ago

Text

Fiancés, Firebirds, Foxes and Fawns: 12

Author: @exquisitley-obsessed

Summary: A few weeks after Briallyn’s attempt at uniting with Koschei, Lucien opens the door of Lockhart Manor to find Elain, cold from the rain and holding a note from the High Lady of the Night Court demanding her to assist Lucien in building alliances with the human councils. Forced to work together by their exhausted High Lord and Lady, Elain is able to convince anyone to do anything, while Lucien has the acquaintances to go anywhere he likes. Together, they attempt to unite the fae and mortal lands and unravel the deal made between Koschei and Vassa, while Lucien remains haunted by his own promise to Elain’s father. ELUCIEN, POST-ACOSF

Pairings: Elain x Lucien, Elucien

Warnings: slight-NSFW

MY MASTERLIST

THIS FIC’S MASTERLIST

AO3

Chapter Twelve: Day Dreams, Night Terrors

The kiss was short – sweet – merely a brush of their lips before Elain pulled back an inch to meet his eye. Lucien was not even sure it had happened. He had felt a pressure on his mouth but the notion that Elain Archeron had just kissed him seemed to go through one ear and out the other.

Surely not. Surely not.

But she was holding onto his shoulders, looking up at him with such an excited concern that he couldn’t help but feel himself give way. Elain had kissed him, and thus finally, some formality broke down between them. Lucien bowed his head and caught her lips before the moment could be ruined by their own stupidity.

He felt the slight intake of breath his mate took before he brushed his lips against her own, pressing into her with a bit more firmness than she had. The arm resting by his side came up to brush against her delicate jaw, his other hand bracing himself on the tree behind her.

After the first brush, he proceeded with a second, then a third. Then, he was pushing his lips against hers in their first, full-bodied kiss. As he did so, he pressed his fingers against her jaw, tilting her head up and back so that he may have fuller access.

Kissing her was thoughtless. It seemed the most natural thing in the world, and as their lips began to move against one another, Lucien had the feeling that he had done this a thousand times before.

Nothing she did was lost on him. The way her hands shyly dragged from his shoulders to his chest, nor how he could feel the heat of her skin through the thin fabric of his shirt. The way she still had to stand some-what on her tiptoes to reach him. Each delicate noise that left her mouth, the fragile gasps to the high hums – he noticed it all.

He could’ve done it forever. He could’ve stayed within this moment till the stars went out one by one and the world was nothing but dust and ash. The warmth spreading through his chest was golden and warm, and felt like the light of a thousand suns and Lucien swore he could feel pure love racing through his veins.

Except in some way, it was stronger than love. It was the feeling of the glory of fate – the feeling of finding a home.

Lucien was just about to take his tongue and taste her when he felt the kiss come to a natural end. Even though he’d never admit it, even after that chaste embrace, he felt as though he needed a break. There was so much emotion raging within him as he reached a peak of happiness he had not experienced in a long time, perhaps ever.

Slowly, torturously, he pulled his lips back as he rested his forehead against hers. In the kiss, their bodies had moved closer together, and he felt her leg slotted between his own, their chests touching as well as their souls.

For a few laboured moments, all that could be heard between them were their heavy, shared breaths. At least until Lucien couldn’t take it any longer and pulling back, he looked at her, as it was his favourite thing to do. His mate kept her eyes closed as she seemed to focus on her breath, her hands having come to gently hold the wrist of the one hand holding her jaw.

She was everything to him. From the first time, he’d laid eyes on her to this moment, to every one in between. She was everything to him, she was his purpose.

His breath. His sword. His home. His heart.

Though this exhilarated him to some degree he was not necessarily scared, for he knew as long as he ventured down this path with her hand in his, it would all make perfect sense.

Finally, Elain opened her eyes and looked at him with curiosity and hope. The timid doe coming to trust the crafty fox.

“Will you still gift me the moon?” Lucien laughed, loud and bright, before quickly lowering his head to catch her lips with his.

“I will bring you every star in the sky,” Lucien murmured against her lips. “And if they do not shine bright enough for you, then I shall kill the Gods themselves for having displeased you.”

He heard Elain’s delicate gasp of breath and continued to kiss her for several more moments, unable to stop himself as he slowly got drunk on the feeling of her touch and the sound of her sighs. Slowly and with remorse, Lucien pulled back a second time, both his hands now against her jaw, holding her to himself.

Elain took several breaths, simply looking at him before she sighed, “I don’t deserve you.”

“Shut up,” Lucien said plainly, lowering his head.

“But-” Elain protested.

“Just shut up.”

This time Lucien bent and pressed his lips against the soft, golden plain of her neck. A small sound escaped his mate, something akin to a whimper and he groaned in response as his body reacted to the sound.

Slowly, so that his mate would feel every touch of his lips, Lucien left a trail of burning kisses downwards to the sweetest, most intimate crook of her neck, where he burrowed his nose and lips. He kissed her there for several moments, feeling her squirm and listening to her whimper before he sucked the skin taut. There was some feral, beastly part of himself that wanted nothing more than to mark her perfect skin, not in a way that hurt, but just enough that he may lay claim to her – that he may mark her as his.

“Lucien-” Elain gasped, her hands burrowing themselves in his hair. Lucien continued, kissing along her shoulder to the strap of her dress.

His instinct was to slowly drop the strap off her shoulder so that it would leave a trail of goosebumps, but he hesitated when he reached the fabric. If Lucien began to undress Elain, in the state they were both in, there would be no stopping them.

“We should stop.” Lucien finally concluded, placing one final kiss on her collarbone before standing straight and yet, not moving away.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Elain flushed, her eyes skirting away from his. A jolt of anger coursed through him. Because she shouldn’t be apologising, and he knew exactly who was to blame for her feeling like she must.

“Don’t apologise, ‘Lainy,” Lucien husked, reaching and taking her hand and bringing her knuckles to his mouth. She turned back and watched him with wide eyes. “I’m only stopping because-” Lucien took her hand and wrapped it around the side of his neck. “-when I have you I want you lain out on silken sheets in a heavily warded room, in which no one can hear the things I’ll do to you, nor the filthy things I say.”

Elain seemed to only stare at him, her beautiful brown eyes wide and alarmed and yet, he could read the excitement there.

“Oh…right…okay…” Elain eventually stuttered, and a beautiful blush began across her cheeks and nose.

Lucien had another urge to kiss her.

“Do you, um, do you want to talk about…” Lucien said, slightly bashfully. Again, he thought of Tamlin poking fun at him at the sight of Lucien tripping on his tongue around a female. It was unheard of, he was the silver-tongued fox, infamous for making others blush and yet there never being a crack in his mask – literally.

“No,” Elain surprised Lucien by shaking her head, “We’ve both said a lot today I think…I think this is just nice for now.” Lucien nodded.

“I’m sorry, by the way. Some of the things I said…”

“Me too…”

They shared another look and Lucien, again, really wanted to kiss her. Though really, that wasn’t a new feeling.

They stood like that for a while, merely just absorbing the moment – the sound of the water gushing in the river, the melodies of the numerous birds, hidden in the trees. The feeling of one another, of the fingers and thumbs brushing strands of hair away from foreheads and skirting along the columns of throats.

It was like existing within a melody, or a beautiful painting. Together, in this moment, they were art – who could blame them for wanting to stay a little while.

Eventually, Lucien stepped back, but not without extending his hand which Elain took immediately. Together, they walked to the lip of the water, their intertwined fingers swinging shyly between them. They were both so elated over the small staple of intimacy and yet, it was unusual and foreign, at least for now.

“We got a little, ahem, distracted but that was some seriously good winnowing.” Lucien smiled down at her, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand.

“Really?” The excitement in her eyes made his heart ache.

“Yes! Of course, it normally takes fae years to accomplish winnowing a few feet but, I assumed you’d be more skilled than most.”

“Really…I…I wouldn’t think anyone thought that of me,” Elain said shyly, looking down at the water where little orange fish were swimming in circles deep below the furious gushing.

“I’ve always thought that of you,” Lucien said in a stern enough voice that no one could mistake his words for anything but the truth. And it was, true, he’d always known of her talent.

He’d always seen her, even when he could not speak to her.

Just then, Elain’s stomach growled loudly, and an adorably mortified expression came onto her features as her free hand slapped over her stomach.

“Oh, my Mother!” She gasped, her cheeks flushing even redder.

Lucien just tilted his head back laughing. The fact Elain still cared about appearing as a Lady even after their rather improper embrace against a tree trunk delighted him to no end.

“Hungry?” Lucien grinned down at her, to which she slapped at his chest playfully.

“Breakfast was a long time ago,” she huffed, though she was still smiling. Suddenly, Lucien remembered something. Turning away from the lip of the water, Lucien looked back to the tree in which they had just been braced against.

“What?” Elain hummed.

“I just want to check something,” Lucien tugged her along. Now that he had her hand in hers, he wasn’t going to dare let go.

After a moment of quiet assessment, Lucien realised he was right. The tree – their tree – bore fruit. They were little round purple baubles, about the size of Elain’s fist. The tree was centuries old, and the lowest fruit was far too far for Elain, but Lucien could reach it no problem.

Reaching up, Lucien plucked two before looking at the fruit in his hand.

“I’m not sure if they’re safe to eat,” he murmured, “I’ll have one first and then, y’know, if I’m still alive it should be okay.” Elain just tipped her head back and laughed.

“Lucien…they’re figs!” Lucien merely glared down at the suspicious fruit. Elain just laughed loudly. “They’re fine, I promise.”

Elain smiled; she took one of the figs out of his hand. She then removed the hand that was holding Lucien’s, he went to complain until she turned and began to slide her hand into his pocket. It was Lucien’s turn for his breath to catch in his throat as her small hand rubbed against his upper thigh. His mouth went dry, and he had absolutely no idea what was happening until she pulled his small knife out of his pocket, the one he’d been using on the apple.

She proceeded to carve into the Fig, cutting it into several pieces. Pocketing the knife, she held out a slice to Lucien. For a moment, Lucien was stunned that she would offer him a piece before feeding herself, and then he was shocked at the fact she was offering him food. Despite his heart galloping into an elevated pace, Lucien knew that Elain’s mind must’ve skipped the whole ‘food means an accepted bond’ fae custom. It was only when Lucien did not immediately take the fruit that Elain’s eyes widened as she realised what she was doing.

“I’d rather not,” Lucien said quickly, with a surprising amount of ease, “Human food is barely tolerable as it is, I can’t imagine their fruit is much better.”

Elain nodded at him, her eyes still on the piece of fruit. And just like that they were once more confronted by the endless complications of their relationship, the weight that had been placed on them before they’d even had a chance to properly introduce themselves.

Lucien shoved it all to the side. He didn’t care. Elain had kissed him today – that was enough to give him enough hope for a lifetime.

“Eat,” he nodded at the fruit. There was something about his mate being hungry that was making his skin itch, it was like an overwhelming urge to go out hunting or something despite there being a warm meal waiting for them the minute they got back.

It was a need to provide and care for, and Lucien didn’t mind it one bit.

He watched as she wrapped her lips around the inner part of the fruit which was pink with yellow seeds. Slowly, she both bit and sucked on the fruit, the flesh coming away easily into her mouth. Lucien swallowed thickly, his body responding eagerly to the sight of her fruit-stained lips.

Elain met his eye instinctively, as though she could hear his thoughts, and he watched as her eyes lapped into a darker shade of brown.

“We should head back,” Lucien husked, in a pained voice.

“Good idea,” she said, dryly.

***

Lucien had winnowed the two of them back to the front door, holding her hand the entire time. It was only when they entered the foyer did Lucien agree to part with her as Elain wished to change her dress before they ate.

After she’d disappeared upstairs he’d stood waiting by the window with a glass of whiskey, trying to not picture Elain pulling off her white dress, nor her getting into the bath and lathering herself in soap and running a damp rag across her skin.

She’d looked better today, he’d decided. Out there in the sun, throwing her hair into a bun as she focused and worked. The sweat making her skin glisten, the heat making her cheeks flush. He’d practically watched as she browned slightly over the course of their lesson, freckles popping up in clusters along her arms.

Gods, she was beautiful.

It seemed to be the most recurring thought in his mind these days. But she truly was the most beautiful creature he’d ever beheld, and she only seemed to grow in splendour. There were times where he wished he were a painter, just so he may be able to capture her essence. When something exists as magnificent as that, sometimes all you want to do is reflect it in your own creations.

Lucien was impatient as he stood, but merely because everything around him now reminded him of her.

Looking out the window he could see the gardens with her Honeysuckle mountains near the stone walls. The breeze made him think of how her hair danced in the wind. The distant birdsong reminded him of her laugh. The warmth of the sun on his skin made him think of her hands, splayed across his chest.

Then there was the kiss.

Gods, that kiss.

He hadn’t been expecting it, to say the least. Whilst he knew that there remained an ocean between them in terms of complications, the waters didn’t look so murky anymore. They were bright and clear, and through the glassy aquamarine, Lucien could see all kinds of thriving life.

The bond was satiated and strangely, silent between his ribs. Where there used to be an agonising, dull tautness was now a feeling of relaxation and comfort. He could still feel the string, leading upwards to where Elain – his mate – was changing, but it seemed to float in the air rather than bind.

Footsteps pushed Lucien to down his whiskey, setting the glass on the windowsill as he turned back to watch his mate enter the room.

Gods, something had changed between them, because she had never looked so impossibly lovely.

The dress was an amethyst cream chiffon that floated around her, making her look as though she had truly descended from the heavens. Her hair was unleashed, slightly wild with the head.

He was right, she was tanner, and there were a few freckles now clustered across her nose. Gods she was…

She was…

“Perfect,” he hadn’t meant to say it, and it truly only came out as a whisper, but Elain’s cheeks flushed a dusty pink as her fingers began to twist together in front of her dress.

Lucien cleared his throat before walking over to their usual dining table, Elain followed close behind and Lucien promptly pulled back a chair for her to sit. Elain gave him a shy, pleased look as she sank into the chair, to which Lucien winked with a smirk as he circled and sat opposite her.

Within seconds food was placed in front of them with a bustle of maids and cooks. Lucien felt Elain watching him as he avidly chatted with several of the maids and even the chef. He’d taken a liking to the residents, and he couldn’t help but feel rather in his element as he smiled and made friendly chat.

Though, he truly wished to only talk to one person and eventually, his patience ran out as he softly sent the maids away and turned to his mate.

“Sorry, I often get carried away with talking,” he said, rather shyly as he dug in.

“No, I…I like it,” her voice was butter and honey, and it was making him melt.

“Well, the skill of having a loose jaw is not always a blessing, at least not in the fae world.” He grinned before tapping his ruined cheek with the handle of his fork. Elain’s brows furrowed slightly, as her eyes drifted across his scar and eye.

Not for the first time, Lucien felt a wave of self-consciousness run over him. It was strange to think that he himself was not yet used to having the scar, given that shortly after he received it, Aramantha had bound that horrid mask to his face.

He guessed he was over it now but, being fae is difficult for this exact reason. As Lucien had only been scared for a small portion of his life and before that he’d had centuries of being known as the most handsome son of Autumn. What he had lacked in martial prospects he had made up for in aesthetic. With his consistently tan skin and healthy, long hair, he’d caught the eye of many fae. Where all his brothers were pale with soft features, Lucien was tall and dark with a large, sharp nose and strong, angled brows.

Before Aramantha or Tamlin, or even Jes, Lucien had often been the talk of the Court. For he had rarely taken lovers, and many wondered what it would take for him to wish to bed you.

Though, after the tragedy of Jes, in his early days as Spring Emissary, he had been going through fae at a pace that some said put Helion to shame. His days of being compared to the High Lord of Day continued into his scarred days and even when he had the mask – but by then, sex was not merely an extension of being the most handsome son of Autumn, but rather Lucien trying to prove to himself that he had not changed.

That he was still…him.

“Do you like it?” Lucien said after a few moments of silence. He was expecting Elain’s eyes to shyly flick away from where they’d been tracing his scar, but instead, she merely tilted her head.

“Liking scars seems a difficult concept,” she merely responded.

“Oh? How so?”

“I do not wish for such an awful thing to have happened to you,” Elain pushed a few things around on her plate, “But, and maybe it’s terrible of me, I can’t deny that I think your scar makes you look indefinitely more handsome.”

That…he was not expecting,

“Oh?” He husked after a second. Elain paused her eating to meet him dead in the eye.

“You look magical,” was all she said, and Lucien felt his heart shudder. “Like everything I shouldn’t want…but everything that I ultimately do….”

A heavy silence fell between them, both of them pausing in their eating as they made eye contact. It was almost as though now that they had kissed, the pre-existing tension was now insufferable.

As Lucien looked at her, the world fell away, and he was utterly consumed by the sight of her. Again, all he could think about were the things he wanted to do with her. Images flooded his mind, of taking her up against the wall, of spreading her on this table. He was aching just to feel her skin against his, to feel her warmth and to hear her sighs. He wanted nothing more than to hike up her endless skirts and find purchase in her folds. The idea of slipping a finger into her had his pants uncomfortably tight.

“Spring?” Elain said, breaking Lucien’s chain of thought and causing his mind to temporarily stutter.

“Spring – oh – spring, yes,” Lucien took a long drink, “I’m leaving to head to Spring, and I’d like for you to join me.”

“I’d love to,” she said without hesitation. Lucien merely grinned at her as he nodded, turning back to his food.

“You’ll like spring, I just know it.”

***

It was a vision, or a dream.

The experience was familiar by this point – the feeling of the world being tangible and yet distant, as though everything were real but you, as the viewer, were merely a ghost. Elain could feel her presence there in the world, taking up a certain kind of space, and yet she felt forgotten by the atoms themselves.

It was a dark room, cold with the overwhelming air of loneliness. Elain could see walls made of wood and stone with windows up high near the ceiling which allowed columns of moonlight to pass through. These bands of silver shadows gave way to very little. There were some general shapes of furniture, wooden chairs and bookshelves, but the large stone columns that ran the length of the room and made everything seem smaller and more complicated.

She was sitting in a rather uncomfortable chair, and before her was a stone pillar that had been cut in half so that it came to her waist. It seemed to be an altar, and two beams of moonlight met from opposite sides of the room to light it up, the stone almost glowing. Upon the rocky surface was a single copper pin which, upon further inspection, Elain recognised as a hairpin.

Footsteps made her jerk with shock, the first sign of life in the seemingly dead building. The steps came from behind and echoed through the empty room, ringing back into her ears. Elain went to turn around but found that her body would not obey her, whether this was due to it being a vision or the fact she had been bound, she could not tell.

The footsteps neared in a slow, torturous pace that was full of cockiness – a person who knew they had power. Elain could only sit and listen as they approached, eyes roving over the room, trying to take in all that she could see.

Eventually, the being came to a stop directly behind her and Elain felt the thrumming magic that came from their presence. The magic’s strength washed over her like a fog, and it felt strangely familiar.

“As I was saying,” the being spoke. The voice was low, deeper than any Elain had heard before, even the Illyrians did not compare.

“The mind, particularly one like yours, is a weapon. It simply begs to be sharped…wielded…” The voice spoke with the casual certainty of an aged teacher. Elain, for some reason, was still focused on the hairpin. It was old, older than her and older than any building she’d ever stepped foot in – she suspected it was even older than Prythian.

“You have no idea what you can do, and it’s so frustrating to see the way peasants of this world have treated you.”

Elain’s mind was running a mile a minute. This could not be a dream then; it must be a vision – an insight of what was to come. But where was she? Who was this person? How did she get here and how would she get out?

“They’ve taught you so many terribly inaccurate things, much of our time together will be spent undoing the poisoned seeds they sowed.” Elain didn’t know who this ‘they’ was that the voice spoke of, but his voice had somehow turned even more deadly and frightening at their mention.

Elain then heard the dragging of wood on stone before there was the clatter of a chair being settled behind her to which she heard the being flop into with a gust of wind – or rather, dust.

It was then that hands came around her and ran from her upper arms down to her hands.

Looking down, Elain saw skin of truest grey with white scars that were reminiscent of lightning covering every inch of exposed skin. The being’s arms were powerful, around three times the size of Elain’s now seemingly dainty, pale hands. The being then wrapped his own hands around hers, his chest pressing into her back. He then tucked his head into the crook of her neck and inhaled deeply.

“Your mind is not broken, Elain,” the being whispered in her ear. His voice now dark, seductive, full of a thousand promises she knew he’d do good on. “I often wonder how you must feel, to go from feeling so worthless to discovering you’re the most valuable being to exist, perhaps ever.” Another deep inhale paused the creature in his speech. “When the world discovers just who you are, there will be people carving themselves up in the streets for a single hair from your head. They will make relics of your clothes. Holidays out of your achievements.”

The hands began to intertwine with hers, grey meeting ivory, twisting like a wreath.

“A part of you has always known.” He was amused, and she felt his lips brush against the shell of her ear. “You knew you there was something so much bigger than any of them running through your blood, that’s why you let them play without you, why you stayed in the gardens where no one could worry. But you’re more powerful than that silly little High Lord of stars and his mutant wife – your sister, of course. The only one who ever came close was that other sister of yours, Lady Death, though she foolishly bargained her gift, she will come to reject that choice, though, you already knew that.”

Elain did. Nesta would never admit to herself, but Elain had seen Nesta glaring at the mirror, wondering how much of a mutant she was to wish she’d kept the flames of ice. Because getting rid of her powers hadn’t gotten rid of the shadow of death that had marred her since birth. In the end, Nesta had run from the darkest part of herself rather than harnessing it.

“I won’t let you make the same mistake.” His voice was abruptly inside her head, a painful invasion, a reminder of what he could do and what he could take. His hands unentwined from her own and those long fingers wrapped themselves around her wrists. Elain only watched as his large, grey hands formed perfect cuffs around her now dainty wrists, and he squeezed with a threatening promise. She was manacled.

Elain went to beg him to stop but then the rush of power hit and she felt her head loll against his shoulder, her mouth parting as a wanton moan tore from her lips. The magic was ecstasy, a pure rush of power and possibility. Elain could feel it courses through her blood, pounding around her body turning her skin alive and electric – just like he had.

The thought of him caused Elain to struggle against the magic but the figure only tightened his grip. Elain could taste his annoyance in the air.

“What is it you want?” It was the first thing she’d said, and to Elain’s surprise, her voice was steady, calm, entirely satiated. The magic continued to course through her, lighting her up from within. It was beautiful, and it was so, so cursed.

The being’s lips returned to her ear, and she felt his tongue once more trace the shape, as though he were trying to memorise her. He stiffened behind her, his entire figure turning rigid as his grip on her wrists turned excruciating.

“I want him dead.” The voice was deadly, cruel, otherworldly – familiar.

Pain exploded within her in the form of black fire.

***

Elain lurched awake, her hands slamming into her chest as she tried to extinguish the fire within. It took several moments of her thrashing in her vacant sheets before she realised that it had not been real – or, at least not tangible.

The black fire she had felt was phantom, a ghost of pain that had brushed through her body via her mind. That…had not felt like a vision. Or, perhaps, she merely not understand the capacity of her powers.

It had felt so real. She had been there, in that dark room looking at that hairpin as that being had taunted her. It had not felt so much of a vision as an invasion. It had felt as though someone had poured something foreign into her brain and she’d temporarily been infected.

Elain shuddered and was up and out of bed before she could think of somewhere to go or something to do. There was a whispering in her mind, a murmuring of a name that she dare not think, and she strongly wished for silence.

But, as it so often did, her mind betrayed her as she went back to the ‘vision’. She hadn’t been afraid of him – the being with grey, mottled skin – as much as she was afraid of the things he had said. The simple statements of her power to which he believed her to have plenty.

More power than Rhysand, more than Feyre. Then there were the visions of Nesta, regretting her choice, regretting saving Feyre, Rhysand and Nyx and giving up her powers. None of it made sense, none of it worked in the world that she thought she knew.

Shivering, Elain blinked to realise that she’d walked over to her closet and pulled out Lucien’s jacket. It was not the one he had given her last night when he had cocooned her in his riding jacket before carrying her to bed. Instead, his one was a deep green with brown lining. There were seven pockets in total, all of them empty bar the one that had contained several flower heads that had long since dried and turned to dust – they had been yellow carnations. The lining was of silk, not just any silk Elain realised, but Didache, the fabric from Autumn. It was fraying at the seams which told her it had been worn lots, loved much, and yet the owner had not cared enough about the jacket or themself to fix it. There was a distressing along the cuffs in which Elain could imagine worried fingers constantly curling and plucking at the seams.

It was the jacket Elain had been wrapped in after the Cauldron, and it was perhaps her only tether to the world those first few days after. Nothing could get through to her, not the angry screams of her sister or the comforting talks from her brother-in-law. Just this rag of fabric that smelt like a home Elain had never been to.

He’d been with her even then, Elain supposed.

It’s funny, she thought, even when I was completely lost, I always had him.

Tugging the jacket on, Elain was able to return to her sheets and curl up into a ball. Around her hung both the scent of him and her. His jacket having been worn by her on many sleepless nights.

The scent wasn’t just his or hers, it was theirs.

Rolling onto her side Elain took what she had seen and pushed it to the back of her mind, imaging herself locking the thought away in a box and burying it under sand. With every spade, the memory receded until her brain was quiet enough for her to slip soundlessly into sleep.

In this distance, under the moon, a firebird screamed in agony.

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mylovehes · 5 years ago

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Agent

Masterlist

Summary: Spencer is constantly mean to reader so she calls him agent to purposely get on his nerves. One day Spencer has enough and shuts the reader up.

A/N: This is one of my first writings so any feedback is appreciated I hope you enjoy! Also feel free to leave a request!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Smut 18+

Today was just like any other day. I’ve been working for the BAU for almost five years now as an assistant for the whole team following them wherever a case may take them and even occasionally consulting. My favorite part of the job was teasing a certain messy curly haired guy, well besides helping catch the bad guys of course.

One of the rules I have to follow being the BAU’s personal assistant is not being able to go home until everyone else has, even if they decide to stay late. You can imagine how frustrating that is especially since it seems like Spencer was purposefully staying late every night, knowing how much it annoys me, when I would much rather be curled up on the couch at home reading a book and drinking some coffee.

“Are you almost done agent?” I asked Spencer with a sarcastically sweet voice, setting the copies he asked me to make for him down on his desk. The truth was Spencer hated being called agent instead of doctor and I knew that, but of course I had to get his blood boiling just a little bit. Spencer rolled his eyes and grabbed the papers stuffing them into the case file and putting it in his bag

“If you hate being here so much y/n, then why don't you just quit?” Spencer spit back annoyed with me and the improper use of his title. Spencer has had a problem with me since I started working for the BAU and I can't figure out why. eventually I gave up trying to figure it out and began purposely trying to piss him off.

“Well agent, I actually happen to like my job, just not staying way passed my scheduled time every night while you sit there and do paper work,” I said sitting on the corner of his desk pushing aside some of his papers which I knew also annoyed him.

“Call me that one more time, see what happens,” Spencer said glaring over at me while packing up his stuff for the night. Finally.

“Am I supposed to be scared of you?” I said looking him in the eye challenging him. I always had a crush on Spencer, but never acted on it due to him always being an ass towards me for no reason.

“Maybe you should be y/n,” Spencer said standing up and towering over me while wearing a smirk on his face as I was still sitting on his desk. My breathe caught in my throat and I suddenly forgot how to breathe or speak. We both were chest to chest, me looking up at him through my lashes while he glared down at me. My gaze glanced down to his plump lips while his glanced down towards mine. Suddenly Spencer pulled away like he forgot where he was for a minute. “I’m done for tonight you’re free to go.”

I began collecting what little stuff I brought with me and then headed towards the elevator which Spencer had just stepped on. I glanced over at Spencer wondering if there was any chance he could feel the same about me. The way he looked at me back there wasn’t how coworkers look at each other. Suddenly an idea popped into my mind.

“Have a good night agent,” I said right before the elevator dinged and the door opened. I almost made it out the door when I felt a yank on my arm and a hand threading through my hair roughly pulling my lips to Spencer’s. He pushed me up against the wall kissing me roughly until my lungs burned for oxygen and I had to pull away for air.

Spencer continued to trail sloppy wet kisses down my neck slightly sucking here and there. A small moan left my lips as he kissed a particular spot on my neck causing my hips to push forward onto his prominent bulge. Spencer let out a groan causing me to smirk.

“Well if you wanted to kiss me so bad agent all you had to do was ask,” I said teasingly knowing the way he was kissing me was in need of more than just my lips.

“Shut up,” he said grabbing my arm and pulling me towards his car. I hoped into the passenger side while he got in the drivers side quickly starting the car and heading towards his place. He put his hand on my thigh and I clenched them together, suddenly embarrassed by how much of a mess I already was from just a kiss.

As I arrived at Spencer’s apartment he opened my car door for me leading me to his apartment. He opened his door letting me walk in first and before I even had a chance to look at my surroundings he had me shoved against the door kissing me and unbuttoning my blouse. I shoved off his jacket and got to work on the buttons of his shirt trying to undress him as fast as possible.

Spencer began leading me to his bedroom both of us throwing articles of clothing hazardously around his apartment on our way. He kicks the door closed behind him and pushes me down onto his mattress. Our lips lock once again and I let out a quiet groan as Spencer grinds up against me, nothing separating us but his boxers and my thin lace underwear. His lips begin to travel down my jaw leading to my neck sucking soft bruises into the skin there. I reach down and grasp him through his boxers and he grips my wrists pinning them both above my head.

“No touching,” he said moving his hands back down my body, one massaging my breast as his lips begin their work on the other one.

“Spencer please,” I whine lifting my hips up to meet his. He pushes my hips down denying me what I want.

“What do you want?” He asked trailing kisses slowly down my stomach. When he gets to the waist band of my panties he pauses looking up at me expectantly.

“I want you to touch me please,” I whine trying to move beneath him to get any type of friction I can.

“Now why should I give you what you want when you can’t even refer to me by my correct title,” he said kissing lower and lower until his breath was right above where I needed him most.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry just please I need you,” I cried clenching my thighs once again. Spencer pulled my thighs apart settling between them so I couldn't close them again. He slowly dragged my underwear down my legs and threw them to the side.

“Look how wet you are,” He said dragging a finger up my folds causing me to little out a small whimper. “Who made you this wet?” I let out a moan in response threading my fingers through his hair. “I want to hear words,” Spencer said stopping all movement while looking up to my face.

“You did Spence! Please touch me!” I cried with need for the man currently teasing me.

“As you wish,” he said leaning down and sucking licking my clit leaving me a complete and utter moaning mess under him. My fingers clenched in his hair, pulling at the soft curls causing Spencer to moan against me. I cried out getting closer and closer to my orgasm. Just as I was about to come Spencer stopped his movements smiling up at me.

“What the fuck Spencer!” I cried looking down at him.

“If you want to come then call me by my correct title,” he said smirking at me drawing light circles on my bundle, just enough to drive me crazy but not enough to satisfy my hunger. I whined not wanting to give into his demand knowing it would piss him off more but not being able to hold off denying him for long.

“Please Dr. Reid I’m sorry!” I whimpered begging for him to let me get the release I so desperately needed. He applied slightly more pressure but still not enough. “Please just fuck me! I won't call you agent again I’m sorry Dr. Reid I’m sorry!” I cried pulling his head up to mine.

“Good girl listen to you, so needy,” he said traveling back up my body and locking his lips with mine. Spencer pushed his boxers down his legs and lined himself up with me. He thrust into me slowly, both of us letting out a low groan. “Fuck you're so tight y/n.”

His thrusts picked up speed leaving me a moaning mess beneath him. Spencer leaned down connecting our lips while pounding into me with even more force. I pulled away letting out a loud moan as his lips trained down my neck groaning into the skin. Soon I felt the familiar build up signaling my orgasm was quickly approaching. “Spencer I’m gonna-”

“I know baby let go,” he said not far behind me picking up his speed and reaching down to draw circles on my bundle of nerves to bring me to my high sooner. I let out a high moan feeling my orgasm wash over me and Spencer soon came right after continuing to ride out our highs.

Spencer pulled out both of us letting out a small groan at the loss of contact. He laid beside me pulling me over to lay on his chest. After a few minutes I glanced up at him to see if he was still awake. “Spencer can I ask you a question,” I whispered nervous to find out his answer.

“Yeah of course,” he said furrowing his eyebrows and shifting to look down at me.

“Why are you always so mean to me, did I do something wrong?” I asked the question that has been on my mind since the moment I met the young doctor.

“No you didn't do anything wrong y/n” Spencer said sighing. “The truth is I really like you and I thought if I was mean to you, it would make you hate me and I wouldn't have to deal with those feelings and you not feeling the same.”

“Spencer that’s stupid,” I said smiling up at the doctor. “I really like you too. I have since the day I met you.” Spencer smiled down at me pulling our lips into a sweet kiss. I pulled away smiling cheekily at Spencer, “Maybe I should call you agent more often Dr. Reid.”

“Shut up,” he smiled pulling you in for another kiss.

#Spencer reid #Spencer reid fanfic #Spencer reid fanfiction #Spencer reid imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #Spencer reid x reader #Spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #Spencer reid smut #Spencer reid x reader smut #Spencer reid oneshot #Spencer x reader #mgg #mgg x reader #Matthew gray gubler #doctor reid #doctor spencer reid

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desertno3 · 4 years ago

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everything comes back to you (sean wallace x fem!reader)

Sean Wallace is the love of your life and had been ever since you were both sixteen. This is why, in the aftermath of his father’s murder, you do everything you can to make sure no one lays a hand him.

5.4k words.

A/N: To think this all came from me watching this scene of Joe from Volume (2012) and thought… I need to write about bb Sean. There’s also this post which is mostly what was in my head when I wrote this. Also, I was going to say Sean being soft around the people he loves is my own personal headcanon but like… it is actual canon, lmao. It’s so easy to forget because the man is cold most of the time. Anyway, I clearly have too many thoughts about this character. Enjoy. (also formatting on tumblr is shit so if you want to read this with the formatting I intended, head over here to AO3)

prologue.

“What the hell are you up to?” Sean demands as he watches you bustle around your shared bedroom, effectively turning it upside down as you stuff your belongings into a travel bag.

“Business,” You say, hardly pausing to look at him.

“Business?” He scoffs like he doesn’t believe you. You don’t blame him. Finn died mere days ago and every day since then you’d been acting strange. Between consoling Sean and helping the Wallace family with the funeral arrangements, you’d been answering calls at random hours of the day and going off to meetings even though nearly all business operations under the Wallace Corporation had been halted. Sean had been too caught up in everything to question it but now that you’d just told him that you were flying off to god knows where for alleged business, he was suspicious.

“You know something, don’t you?”

You don’t reply.

“Tell me.”

When you remain silent, you see his jaw clench in anger but that’s not what makes your heart squeeze painfully in your chest. What gets to you is the hurt you can see in his eyes, hurt that his fiancé of all people is keeping things from him. You know it’s unfair to be doing this to him right now but you had no choice.

You walk up to him, taking his face in your hands.

“You just have to trust me on this, Sean,” You say softly. “Please.”

“I can’t trust anyone right now, y/n.” He says it like a plea. He needs you to be the one person he can trust one hundred percent, wants to be able to put you apart from the rest of the world who seemingly had it out for his family right now. He can’t do that when you’re acting like this.

The statement doesn’t hurt you in the slightest. You understand where he’s coming from, understand why he can’t even trust you, but still, you wish he did.

“You can always trust me,” You tell him but you know it won’t be enough. That’s confirmed when his gaze goes steely and he pries your hands from his cheeks.

“If you step out that door, don’t bother coming home.”

You step back like you’d been burned by the ultimatum. “Sean, don’t-”

He shakes his head.

“Whatever you’re doing, I hope it’s worth it.”

_________________________________________________

one.

“It’s just so annoying, you know?” You huff, falling back onto Sean’s bed and pressing the heels of your palms into your eyelids. You’re sixteen and in the throes of teen angst, irritated by the confines of your parents’ demands regarding what you currently could and couldn’t do at that age.

“Yeah, I know,” Sean replies in solidarity from where he stands near the window.

You let out a sigh, the anger that was bubbling in your chest starting to dissipate now that you’d finished venting about it.

You’re so lost in your own thoughts that you don’t realise Sean has moved from his spot across the room to the bed beside you. The mattress dips a little as he sits and slowly lies back so he’s parallel to you.

You move your hands away from your eyes and your heart jolts when you crane your neck to look at him and realise how close he is.

“Thanks for listening to my ranting,” You murmur, starting to feel guilty that you’d come over to hang out only for it to end up being just him listening to your tirade.

He lets out a small chuckle. “Anytime.”

You smile gratefully, your heart rate accelerating as you continue to stare into his eyes. God, you like him so much. You have for a while now. As he inches closer, and you don’t know whether it’s deliberate on his part or not, you wonder what it would be like if you just kissed him right there.

“Y/n…” He says hesitantly, his gaze flicking down to your lips for a fraction of a second. “Can I-”

“Ooooh, Sean and y/n,” Billy sing-songs obnoxiously from the doorway - the doorway that both you and Sean had forgotten was wide open.

Sean leaps up from the bed and growls at his brother, who continues to tease him unfazed.

“Fuck off, Billy!”

He slams the door shut and everything descends into silence once more. You sit up and watch as Sean remains at the door, his shoulders tense. You get up and make your way over to him, feeling bolder than you ever have in your life.

“Sean,” You say softly, grabbing his attention.

He turns to you, the look in his eyes hesitant, and you use that opportunity to press your lips to his. You pull away just as quickly, gauging his reaction, but then he pulls you towards him again and this time the kiss is deeper, needier. Your hands steady yourself against his chest as his own move up to cup your jaw.

You’re both breathless when you pull away, sporting matching shy smiles as you look at each other.

“I really like you, y/n,” Sean confesses and your heart feels like it could burst.

“I really like you, too, Sean.”

When you and Sean get accepted into different universities, it worries you more than you let on. It would be the furthest away you’d ever lived from him and you were worried about what that meant for you both. You’d spent your last years of high school falling deeper and deeper in love with him and you weren’t ready to let him go. Not now, not ever.

“Hey,” He murmurs, noticing you’d spaced out again. “What’s wrong?”

You shrug it off but he’s not buying it. He shifts on the couch so that he’s sitting facing you and takes your hands in his.

"Talk to me.”

You end up telling him everything. How you don’t like that you’re not going to be able to see him as often as you do now, how you’re worried that the distance might put a strain on the relationship, how you really, really don’t like the idea of breaking up with him.

You half expect him to brush it off or to tell you that you’ve got nothing to worry about but he doesn’t.

“I don’t like it either,” He admits. “It’s going to be awful being so far away from you but it’s only a couple of years, yeah? We can do that. And then I’ll start working for my dad and you’ll start working for some cool startup and we can move into a flat in London. You and me.”

While your boyfriend’s vision of your future together warms your heart, you’re still hung up on the ‘couple of years’ you were going to be a good distance from each other.

“Babe,” He says, bringing your attention back to him. “We’re going to be okay.”

You nod, finally relenting and agreeing with him. There was no point in letting yourself get eaten alive with worry, not when he clearly loved you just as much as you loved him. It was going to be okay.

“I love you,” You tell him and he smiles, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand.

“I love you too.”

Sean’s vision of the future wasn’t too far off. You manage to secure a flat just before you both graduate and by the end of the summer, you’d moved in. Sean starts working immediately alongside Alex at the Wallace Corporation and you spend about eight months working for a new tech startup on the other side of London before Finn Wallace offers you a job. It goes over with Sean just as well as you expected it would - which was not well at all.

“Are you really going to throw away everything you’ve worked hard for? To be my dad’s fucking assistant?”

You sigh in exasperation. “I’m not throwing away anything, Sean! Do you think I’m that stupid? I’m going to use more of what I learned at uni as Finn’s assistant than I am now at that fucking sad excuse for startup and you know it!”

Sean knows you’re miserable where you currently work so you don’t know why he’s so against this.

“You don’t want me working with you, is that it?”

He sighs, palms pressing against his eyelids in frustration.

“No,” He says eventually. “No, it’s not that. It’s just… I don’t want my dad having a hold on the both of us. You’re supposed to be free from all the Wallace Corporation shit, out doing your own thing.”

Oh.

You step towards him and he instinctively wraps his arms around your waist. You press a light kiss to his lips, your fingers ghosting over the facial hair he had recently started sporting.

“Sorry to tell you this, Sean, but your dad’s had a hold on the both of us the moment we started dating. Maybe even before that. I’m sure if he didn’t approve of me, I would’ve been out of your life a long time ago.”

Sean grumbles at the realisation but he knows it's true.

You lovingly run your thumb over his cheek. "Nothing in London is out of Finn Wallace's reach."

You’re not a fool. You know Finn offered you this job for a very specific reason. If you were going to continue being with Sean, and at this point, everyone knew that was absolutely going to be the case, you were going to have to know how the company worked. And you weren’t against it. If Sean was to be the CEO one day, you refused to be the kind of wife who was oblivious to their husband’s dealings.

Gone is the youthful innocence of the lanky boy you fell in love with when you were sixteen. Sean is filled out and a lot more serious, trying to be more than what he is for his father’s sake. You suppose you're the same, too. It's not easy, being primed to eventually take over a multi-million dollar organisation (connected to an insidious underground one to boot) and Finn put just as much pressure on you as he did his son.

“It’s not my blood,” You mumble when Sean walks into the bathroom to find you soaking in the tub, the water around you a deep red. “Mostly.”

Wordlessly, he comes over and drains it before filling it back up with fresh water. You don’t move as he does so, still shaken and borderline catatonic from having just killed somebody for the first time. Sean doesn’t have to ask, he can just tell that’s what you’ve come back from. As he silently washes the blood from your skin, you look over to see his lips set in a tight line. You know he’s mad. Not at you. At his father, maybe. But there’s nothing he can do now. There’s no going back from this.

Everyone thinks you’re the power couple of the Wallace Corporation, steely and unfeeling, and you suppose in many ways you are but you also know that in other ways, you’re still the teenagers you were before, still completely and utterly smitten with one another.

“Hey,” Sean greets you, kissing your cheek before pulling out a chair and sitting beside you in the empty boardroom.

You look at him in surprise as he starts digging into some pre-packaged salad. “Hi. What are you doing?”

“Thought I’d have lunch with you.”

“It’s three in the afternoon.”

“The meeting ran overtime.”

You give him a sympathetic look and he rolls his eyes. “It’s fine. C’mere.”

You shuffle closer to him and let him tuck you under one arm while he forked salad into his mouth with the other.

“What have you been up to, hm?”

You let out an exhale, resting your head against his shoulder. “Meetings, same as you.”

You’re interrupted when Alex pops his head in with an apologetic look on his face, knowing he was disrupting a rare moment between you and Sean. Usually, the both of you would be so busy you’d only see each other in passing at work.

“Finn’s looking for you, y/n,” He tells you before disappearing again.

You sigh, getting up but not before kissing Sean on the cheek.

“I’ll see you at home.”

“Mm, see you.” He mumbles, swallowing his mouthful of salad before his hand shoots out to grab your wrist. “Wait, give me a proper kiss.”

You smile and comply, laughing when Sean pulls you back in for another and another.

“I have to go, Sean!”

“Alright, alright,” He says, letting you go. “I’ll see you later.”

"What's all this?" Sean asks when he comes home one night to find you in the kitchen looking like you’re in the middle of making a more elaborate dinner than usual.

"Just something to celebrate you finishing up that contract," You say, smiling when his arms circle your waist and his lips press a kiss to your cheek. "I was also thinking now that the contract's done, you've got all the time in the world to fuck me."

You all but squeal when he picks you up and carries you to the bedroom without a second thought.

"The food, Sean!"

"The food can wait," He murmurs, dropping you onto the bed. You giggle when he moves to hover above you, his lips brushing against yours. "I've got to take care of my fiancé first."

It’s those memories of your relationship with Sean that flood your mind as you lean against the brick wall of a Soho back alley, the hand pressing against the wound on your side not doing much to stop the blood seeping from your body faster than you would like.

Dread had filled you the moment you heard about Finn’s death and it had less to do with what happened to him and everything to do with the man you were engaged to, the one who was set to take over the company in his father’s wake. Despite Sean being the clear successor to the business, you knew Finn’s death would still leave a power vacuum in both London’s corporate and criminal worlds. You knew people would be out for Sean, trying to off him so that they could step up and take Finn’s place. And so, since the day Finn had died, you’d done everything you could to ensure Sean wouldn’t be harmed. Even after Sean’s heartbreaking ultimatum, you’d left and had been all over the country and London trying to stop the people that needed to be stopped. This last job you’d just carried out would have been it. It would have sealed the deal and would have kept Sean safe for good. Too bad you were probably going to die because of it.

You wince as your back slides further down the wall, your legs giving out and leaving you to drop unceremoniously onto the concrete. Each inhale felt like a billion knives entering your side and you knew you weren’t going to last much longer.

It was worth it, you think to yourself. It’s the last thought you have before your eyelids get too heavy to keep open, Sean’s last words to you echoing back in your mind. It may have cost you your life but was worth it if it meant you’d just ensured Sean would keep his for a long while.

_________________________________________________

two.

Despite the number of people crammed into your hospital room, the only sound to be heard is the steady beeping of the machines that had been attached to you. It had been a hell of a night for all of them and one that wasn’t over yet. Jacqueline’s frantic call to Sean about seeing you get wheeled into emergency surgery had cut short the tense discussion the Wallaces and Dumanis were having around the dining table. Sean had all but sped to the hospital, everyone else trailing behind him. Despite everything that had just been revealed to him that night, it all became secondary in comparison to the fact that Jacqueline had told him you were practically dying.

Everyone but Sean looks up when Ed steps back into the room, shoving his phone into his pocket.

“That was Jevan,” Ed announces to all of them. “Things have changed.”

“What things?” Marian asks, the tone in her voice still bitter. It’s a wonder neither she nor Sean have kicked the Dumanis out of the room but it was because there was still so much to be discussed - especially now that you were back in the picture and what happened to you remained unclear.

“The investors now want to keep Sean alive.”

A silence settles over the room at Ed’s revelation. It was mere hours ago that Alex had revealed it was the investors who wanted Sean dead.

“She knew,” Sean mutters, finally speaking up. His eyes raking over your nearly-lifeless face as you lay unconscious on the hospital bed and his mind thinks back to the last conversation he had with you. Business, you had told him then. Now, he had no doubt you had something to do with the investors’ most recent decision. “She knew they wanted me dead.”

“How?” It’s Alex who asks, vocalising the same thought Sean had been turning over and over in his mind. “How did she know where to find them? Who to talk to?”

No one has an answer. The machines beep steadily, filling in the silence until Ed sighs, a realisation dawning on him.

“Finn,” He states like that alone makes the answer clear. “She would’ve known through Finn. Think about it. When she was his assistant, he made her go with him to nearly every meeting he had.”

Everyone in the room was aware of the latter, of course. It was part of your job. It had even been a point of contention between Sean and his father at one point, why you were let in on meetings that he should’ve been in on too if he was going to take over the company one day. "She’s just there to make the coffee, son," Finn had laughed but that wasn’t true in the slightest. You were the one who took down the minutes, noted down anything of importance, kept tabs on any and all of Finn’s dealings with everybody. That was your job and through it, you ended up knowing more about the business than anyone else and you didn’t even realise it. You didn’t realise just how much you knew, how much knowledge you could use as leverage, as blackmail, until Sean’s life was on the line.

After Finn died, you did wonder whether he knew what he was setting you up for when he hired you, wondered if he always knew Sean would eventually need protecting and knew that you would do it without hesitation if you had the capability to do so.

It’s Ed, here in the hospital room, who comes to the realisation that he absolutely did.

“She knows more about Finn’s dealings with the investors than all of us in this room combined,” He continues. “Because he never actually needed her to be his assistant. He needed her to be someone who would know how to talk to them. To protect the company and its successor from them if need be.”

“Successor?” Marian asks. “You mean Sean?”

Ed nods and everyone jumps as Sean suddenly throws his fist against the bedside table in anger before whirling on the older man.

“You knew about this,” He seethes. “You knew he was doing this and you just let it happen.”

“I didn’t know this was his reasoning behind it, Sean, I promise you. But it makes sense. As his son, protecting you was a priority. Through her, Finn made sure you’d be kept safe.”

"Fuck that.” Sean spits in anger. “Fuck that. She's a priority too. You hear me? She needs to be kept safe too because if she's not alive I may as well be fucking dead."

_________________________________________________

three.

“I should’ve fucking realised that’s what she was up to. I should’ve fucking known,” Sean mutters as he looks at you, still lying there unconscious. “She risked everything for me.”

“Are you surprised?” Marian asks him. It’s just the two of them in the room now.

She, for one, isn’t surprised in the slightest. Having known you most of your life, she knew you had it in you. Maybe Finn saw that too, since it was what he ended up priming you for.

Sean sighs. He’s not surprised either. What he mostly feels is anger - at his late father for putting you in that position to begin with - and shame. He’s ashamed that while you were bending over backwards to try and keep him alive, he was doing fuck all for you. He'd even broken your fucking heart in the process. He’d regretted it the second you’d left the flat but he couldn’t get into contact with you afterwards. Either you’d changed your number or you weren’t answering his calls. He’d even hired a fucking private investigator to find out where you’d gone and what you were up to but they hadn’t come back with anything solid enough that could lead him to you. It was like you’d disappeared off the face of the earth.

"She paid you off,” Sean says bluntly the moment the PI enters the hospital room. It’s not a question. After everything that had surfaced in the last twenty-four hours, it clicked into Sean’s mind the reason the private investigator couldn’t find anything on you.

"She did,” They confirm.

Sean swears under his breath. He curses that fact that you were too good at this and curses the fact that it was probably Finn that taught you how, the same way Finn taught him. He should’ve fought harder to stop you from accepting his dad’s job offer. All those years ago.

“She paid me off,” The PI says. "But that doesn’t mean I didn't do my job."

Sean is handed a folder full of notes on your movements and a flash drive full of photos they’d snapped from a distance.

"You are a very lucky man, Sean Wallace. To have someone like her in your life."

_________________________________________________

four.

To say you’re surprised when you open your eyes to a sterile hospital room is an understatement. You were so sure you had no chance of getting out of that alley alive. Still groggy, you briefly wonder if it was the investors who managed to get you here in time - the strange puppet masters that they were - but your train of thought is halted when you realise Sean’s sister is in the room with you, sitting beside your hospital bed.

“About time you woke up,” Jacqueline says softly, a kind smile on her face. “How’re you feeling?”

Her question brings your attention to the relentless ache you feel all over your body.

“Like shit.”

She hums. “Well, you’re lucky you aren’t dead. You gave us all a scare getting wheeled in here the way you did.”

You shift a little, trying to get yourself in a position that would ease the pain somewhat. “How’s Sean?”

Jacqueline has to stop herself from rolling her eyes because of course that’s what’s on your mind right now. You coming back from the verge of death asking about Sean ran in a similar vein to the way Sean had been adamant about not leaving the hospital since you’d been admitted. Like two peas in a pod, she thinks. Always have been.

“He’s just out in the hall, actually,” She informs you. “On the phone to mum. He’s not going to be pleased he wasn’t here when you woke up.”

“But he’s okay?” You ask her.

“He’s okay.”

You let out the breath you didn’t realise you were holding, your head sinking further into the pillow.

“Good,” You say, shutting your eyes in relief. “That’s good.”

Only a few seconds pass before you hear the door open and shut and a heart-achingly familiar voice break the silence.

“How is she?”

Again, Jacqueline has to keep herself from rolling her eyes. Her brother would always ask that same question every time he returned to the room, no matter if he was gone for an hour or for just a couple of minutes. At least this time, she was glad to give him an answer other than ‘she’s the same as she was when you left’.

“She’s awake.”

Your eyelids flutter open and your heart jumps when your gaze lands on Sean.

“I’ll leave you both to it,” Jacqueline smiles when she looks between her brother and yourself. She comes over and rests her hand on yours. “I’m really glad you’re alive, y/n.”

You give her a grateful smile and watch her leave before your eyes flicker back to the man standing at the door. He looks healthy, you note to yourself. Exhausted, but healthy.

“Sean,” You whisper, breaking the silence.

“Hey,” He says softly, approaching your bedside. You slowly sit up and tears start to pool in your eyes at the sight of him here, so close to you. Safe and alive. He notices and reaches out to wipe away the stray tears that had rolled down your cheeks.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” He murmurs and you have to hold back a sob.

"I did it for you, Sean," You can barely get the sentence out, your voice catching as you start to get choked up by emotion. "Everything I did-"

"I know," He says, cupping your face tenderly. His eyes are glassy too. "I know."

“I couldn’t let them hurt you. I couldn’t-”

You stop as your tears start to flow uncontrollably. You’d kept so much of your emotions at bay as you dealt with everything and now that it was all done, they were spilling over in waves. He gently pulls you into his embrace as you cry, mindful of your injuries. One hand strokes your hair comfortingly as you cling to him, soaking the front of his shirt with your tears. You keep muttering apologies into his chest and he has to tell you to stop because you have nothing to be sorry for. He should be the one apologising, he thinks. No matter what he does for you for the rest of his life nothing would come close enough in magnitude to what you’d just done for him.

You sniffle as your sobs finally start to subside but you don’t let go of him just yet.

“I want to come home, Sean,” You say quietly, your cheek still pressed against his chest.

“You are home,” He assures you, his arms affectionately squeezing you ever so slightly. "You're here with me. You're already home."

_________________________________________________

epilogue.

Sean barely leaves your side while you recover - not for business, not for anything.

“The company needs you, Sean.”

He shakes his head. “Alex has it covered. You need me.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Believe me, I know. But still. In sickness and in health, right?”

You snort. “We’re not married yet.”

His arms wrap around your waist.

“But we will be,” He murmurs. “I would’ve married you a long time ago if I had it my way.”

“My mother would’ve murdered you.”

Sean chuckles, all too aware of it.

It was about a year and a half into your university lives that Sean decided he genuinely wanted to marry you and, of course, he had run it by your mother.

“I’ll give you my blessing, Sean,” She had told him. “But only if you promise me you’ll give it a few years until you propose.”

“Just trust me on this, okay?” She said after Sean had frowned and asked her why. “I know you love her and I know she loves you but there’s no need to rush.”

Sean had agreed reluctantly but now, years later, he understands where she was coming from. At the time, he had naively been sure there was nothing the two of you couldn’t handle. You’d both handled being at different universities so well, after all. Now, he cringes at the fact that that was his metric but he figures he couldn’t blame himself. At that age, he definitely never anticipated having to deal with all the shit life had thrown at you both in the last few months alone. He’s somewhat grateful your mum told him to wait because now, after everything, he’s more sure than he ever was about the fact that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you.

You’re finally back home, in your own bed, lying on your back because it’s the only comfortable way you can lay down with all your stitches and injuries yet to fully heal. You turn your head to look at Sean and you smile. He’s on his back as well, the both of you craning your necks awkwardly to look at each other.

“What?” He asks.

“This is very familiar.”

He snorts, knowing exactly what you’re referring to. He props himself up on his elbow and looks down at you.

“At least this time I’m not scared to do this.”

Your eyelids flutter close as he leans down to press his lips to yours. You reciprocate, leaning up to deepen the kiss before pain shoots up your side, making you hiss.

“Sorry,” He murmurs, pulling away.

“It’s fine, just the stitches.”

His thumb grazes over your cheek. “Rest.”

He smiles at the way you huff. You never did like staying still.

You let out a content sigh, sinking back in your office chair. It had felt like a lifetime since you’d been in here and finally being back felt like you were putting in the final piece in the puzzle. It was the last thing you needed to feel like everything was starting to go back to normal.

A knock on the door grabs your attention, Sean popping in to check on you. “You ready?”

You nod, gingerly getting up and following him to the boardroom for the family meeting.

“So you know Alex and I have been talking,” Sean says to you once everyone had filed in and taken their seats. “About what will be best for the business going forward.”

You nod.

“Things have settled down and we’ve managed to broker temporary agreements with everyone to keep them in line. However, we need to guarantee they won’t act out in the future. So we need someone heading the company who they will listen to, someone who they trust. Alex wants to continue doing the finances and I’m better off sticking to making the buildings so… we were wondering if you would be the CEO.”

Your expression goes slack in shock. “What?”

“We’ve run it by Ed and mum and they agree, too. You’re our best bet.”

You look between everyone in the room, bewildered. “Why?”

“Because you know more about dealing with the investors and shareholders than any of us,” Alex says. “You saw first-hand how Finn did his business with them, something me and Sean rarely did. And they not only know you personally but they trust you, too.”

“Y/n,” Ed pipes up. “Whether he did it deliberately or not, Finn taught you everything he knew about the most important part of running this corporation. Alex knows finance and sales, Sean knows property and asset management but you? He specifically taught you how to bargain. And bargaining and making deals is part of what keeps the Wallace Corporation on top.”

“All our shareholders, the investors, they’ll be okay with this?” You ask.

Ed gives you a look, “You tell us.”

The weight of the responsibility hits you in full force but you’re surprised when you don’t feel scared. You feel sure. They were all right, you’d been doing this already.

You nod. “They will be.”

And it’s not a threat so much as it’s just pure confidence on your part. You knew their strengths, their weaknesses, you knew you would be able to keep them in line with your words, either finding mutual ground or using certain things as leverage to get what the company needed. You could bargain with them the same way you’d bargained for Sean’s life. You could do this.

You meet Sean’s eyes across the boardroom table and he smiles at you, pride blooming in his chest at the thought of his girl, the one he had fallen head-over-heels for at sixteen, being the CEO of his dad’s company. You smile in return. God, you loved him. Your entire world, your whole heart, belonged to him. And his to you. It always had been, and it always would be.

_________________________________________________

End notes: The first kiss setting in one. I took straight from Volume, lol, and then two. is set after that meeting scene at the end of Episode 7 of Gangs but I’ve taken some liberties with that meeting and diverged from canon right before Ed tells them Finn never wanted Sean near the business because Sean’s reaction to that hurts my heart. So that’s not a thing in my fic world. Anyway! Too many thoughts about this show. Let me know if you enjoyed this fic!

#sean wallace x reader #gangs of london fanfiction #*writing #sean wallace #gangs of london #sean wallace fic #sean wallace imagine #gangs of london fic #sean wallace fanfic

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tinyboxxtink · 3 years ago

Text

"Not My Yacht" *Chapter 2*

Yes, for two days this is a semi short chapter, but I had another long today and have one more tomorrow and I wanted you to have SOMETHING. Weirdly though I had an entire different chapter written in my head, but when I started typing this came out instead. My original idea is still coming, this just added a fun little bonus getting there. I promise, tomorrow you will get a longer chapter.

Thank you loves for sticking by me through everything! I love you all.

Also, I'm finally using CHAPTER. I kept wanting to use it instead of PART but I just kept writing PART and was like WELP. But they're chapters, right?!

Ok I'll shut up.

Part 1 Here

Part 3

Tag List

@madamsnape921

@lolliepopsicle

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@milkshqke

@wanniiieeee

@word-scribbless

@gibbs274

@sassyada

@aprildecker-blog

@bookishfanfic

@stars-in-the-skies-world

@stars-trash-18

@omgsuperstarg

@objection-argumentative

And @storiesofsvu for Rita check. lol.

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

When five o’clock rolled around, Rita came walking out of her office with a stack of papers and her briefcase, balancing her purse on her barely free arm.

“Y/N, Why are you still here? Did I not unlock your chains?” She laughed.

“Haha….no, ma’am” You nervously laughed. “I um, I think I’m waiting for someone,”

“You think?” She raised a curious eyebrow. “If you’re waiting on Barba, you’re going to waiting a long time, sweetie,”

“Wha-? How--? Why, exactly?” You asked her totally flabbergasted by the insinuation that not only had Rafael asked you out, but was bailing already.

“He tends to get a little...involved, in his cases. Poor man is a workaholic,” She feigned pity for him.

“Right,” You nodded to her comically overflowing briefcase and papers. “Something you know nothing about,”

“Touché,” She winked. “I’d give him a call, make sure he hasn’t forgotten about you, dear. Before the cleaning staff shows up,” She laughed and sauntered out of her office, leaving you alone in the dark.

You glanced down at your phone. He hadn’t really specified a time, just-- “Tonight”. What did that even mean? Tonight. Like early evening dinner, or a midnight snack after he was done with his cases? You should probably text him. Or call him. Or text him.

TO BARBA: Heyyy….

Wait. Was three y’s too many? Wasn’t that a rule? You show affection by how many y’s you use? Is that a thing kids do these days? Wait, no you’re not a kid. And he certainly was NOT a kid. No. Be a grown up about this.

TO BARBA: Hi I’m just...checking in.

Checking in? What did that even mean? And why the ellipsis? There doesn’t need to be a pause in a text. That’s why it’s a text. You pause in your mind before typing. Idiot.

TO BARBA: What’s up?

Ok. Short and simple. To the point. No pressure, no demanding. Just... ‘checking in’. You hated yourself. Alright fine, good enough send it. SEND IT. HIT SEND NOW.

MESSAGE SENT.

Your phone shook in your trembling hand as you waited for the ellipsis of him writing back. That was too much, no no just put it back in your pocket and he’ll text you when he--

BARBA CALLING

Oh god, a phone call? Who calls people anymore? Grown ups, that’s who. Answer the phone like an adult.

“H-Hello?” You answered it as if he had the wrong number.

“Hey, Cinderella,” His smooth voice came through your earpiece. “I’m so sorry, I should have been more specific about the time,”

“Oh, yeah no-- no big deal, I’m just here at work….alone, in the dark…” You muttered the last words to yourself as you looked around the dark office.

“Right. Well, I’m kind of wrapped up in this case right now--” He started, making your heart drop. Well, Rita called it. He’s just married to his job, no time for women, let alone you. Time to just--

“....Would you hate me if I asked you to come help me?”

“...I’m sorry, what?” You blinked in confusion at your phone. So, was he actually asking you out or trying to snake you as an assistant from Rita? Is that what he meant by ‘dinner’? “Hey come bring me food and help me file these cases, because I’m so sexy and cocky and--”

“You know what, I’m so sorry I just heard how that sounded. You’ve been doing this all day, the last thing you wanna do is come--”

“Sure!” You cut him off a little loudly. What were you doing?! You’re just going to lay down and let him use your services for free? Well, when you put it that way it sounded pretty skeezy about yourself.

“....Are you sure? Because we can just have dinner another night--”

“....Yeah I have a feeling that will never happen,” You cut him off with a laugh.

“Wha--no, it will! I just--”

“Your wife comes first, I get it,” You cut him off again.

“My wife?”

“Yeah you’re married to your work,” You smirked into the phone.

“Wow, quippy Cinderella. Guess you’re more confident on the phone without my gorgeous face tripping you up now, aren’t you?”

“Do you want my help or not, Casanova?” He was totally right; without those green emeralds staring into your soul you were actually a pretty funny and smart person. Maybe it would be better to just have this date on the phone.

"Yes, absolutely," He sighed with a smile.

“Did you want me to bring food, or am I just supposed to eat paperclips and vending machine leftovers??”

“I’ll order some pizza, do you like pizza?”

“....I live in New York Barba. Obviously I like pizza,” You teased.

“Right,” He chuckled. “Well I’ll be here--”

“I know where your office is,” You cut him off for the third time.

“Oh, do you?” He asked in a sneaky tone, as if he thought you’d been googling him or something.

“Um, yeah,” Your voice fell an octave softer. “Actually I’ve been there several times, dropping off stuff from Rita for you,” Of course he wouldn’t remember that. Why would he remember that? You weren’t anything special.

“Shit,” He muttered as if chastising himself. “Y/N I’m so sorry, I--”

“It’s fine,” You assured him as you headed down to the subway. “I’m uh, I’m getting on the train so I’ll see you soon,” You hung before he could reply.

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

It wasn’t that far to Rafael’s office from Rita’s, just a few stops away. You quickly hurried up the stairs back into the Manhattan air as you swiftly walked through the sea of people leaving corporate America to go home to Suburbia. Finally you reached the building, went for the door and-- it was locked.

Well of course it was locked, nobody else in their right mind would be here this late-- so clearly you and Rafael were out of your minds. Shit. Should you call him? Was there a buzzer? Before you could think of another solution a pizza delivery man was walking up to you. Maybe ‘man’ was too generous, he was probably around 16 or 17.

“Delivery for Mr. Barba,” He handed you the pizza. Did you look like a “Mr. Barba” to him?!

“I um,” You stammered as the hot pizza burned the sides of your arms you were holding it on. “I’m not Mr. Barba,”

“Are you taking it to him?” He asked you with a slight attitude.

“I um,” You thought a moment. Well you were going to see him, so yes theoretically you would be taking the pizza with you to him. “...Yes,”

“That’ll be 46.57.” He whipped out a credit card scanner on his phone.

“E-Excuse me?” You were taken aback. Now Barba had you buying him dinner? And what kind of pizza costs basically 50 bucks?!

“2 Large pizzas, an order of cheesy bread, a dessert pizza and delivery fee,” The kid read off the receipt from his phone. “I only accept credit or debit cards, and please tip generously,”

“Yeah right,” You muttered with a roll of your eyes as you pulled out your credit card and swiped it across his phone. The light turned green and a receipt printed off an attachment to his phone. He ripped it off and handed it to you, then nonchalantly walked back down the stairs to wherever he was parked.

“Awesome,” You sighed. You still didn’t know how to get inside, and now you were carrying all this hot food. All of this for a pair of green eyes?!

To make matters worse, your phone started going off in your purse. You groaned and tried to put all of the boxes down softly, but the night wind blew them onto the pavement, HARD.

“Shit!” You groaned louder as you tried to salvage the food while pulling your phone from your purse. Of COURSE.

BARBA CALLING

“I can’t get in,” You simply stated as a greeting on the phone.

“What?”

“I can’t get in the building, Barba,” You grumbled, now on a 8 on the annoyance scale.

“Oh! Oh God,” The line went dead. Awesome.

After a few minutes while you were trying to rebalance all of the boxes in your arms, one of the big glass doors swung open right into you. The boxes all pressed against you, their hot, saucy, cheesy and chocolatey goodness smearing all over your work outfit.

“SHIT!!!!!!” You screamed in horror.

“Oh my god, Oh god Y/N I am SO--” Rafael started to apologize profusely, but you noticed he was trying his best not to burst out laughing.

“I’m sorry, do you think this is funny?!” You asked angrily while you peeled a pepperoni from your hair.

“No, not at all,” He shook his head vigorously, but kept giggling behind his eyes.

“You do!” You stomped your heel, causing marinara to roll down your legs. “You are absolutely laughing at me being covered in all of your stupid food that I had to pay for by the way--”

“Oh no, really?” He suddenly turned sincere.

“No, Rafael,” You scoffed as you tried pulling cheese from your skirt. “I just had sex with him in the parking lot and we called it square,”

“Really--?!”

“NO NOT REALLY!”

“Okay! Okay I’m sorry, really I am,” Rafael tried to show you sympathy, but you looked so damn cute covered in a tasty meal.

“Yeah I can see that, you’re grinning like a five year old,” You rolled your eyes.

“I’m sorry, Y/N I really am,” He gave up trying to hide a laugh. “But you have to admit it’s pretty funny--”

“I DON’T THINK--” You started to scream at him again, but his smile made these cute little crinkles in his eyes, and his laugh was like an angel’s chorus. You might have been covered in food, but you would be covered in manure if it made him laugh like that.

“For what it’s worth, you look delicious,” He teased you, pulling an actual full piece of pizza from your chest and biting it.

“Oh my god, you’re so gross,” You did your best not to laugh, you were still supposed to be angry.

“Yum, Y/N flavor, my favorite,” He laughed for a moment just as you both realized what he had said. “Uh, I mean--” He looked away in embarrassment, and you swear you saw his face flush red.

“Um no counselor,” You bit your lip with a smile. “I’m pretty sure I taste better than a mix of pizza sauce and chocolate,”

“I’m sure you do,” Rafael bravely retorted, now that he knew you were in the playing mood.

“....But seriously, now I have to go home and get this shit off--”

“I have a shower in my office,” He blurted out.

“....Excuse me?” You blinked, not believing you heard him right.

“I...I have a shower in my office,”

“Oh my god, Rafael Barba are you that addicted to work that you live here?”

“No!” He rolled his eyes. “It’s for emergencies,”

“Emergencies? Like what?”

“Like a beautiful woman covered in pizza toppings and chocolate,” He smirked. “Now come on, I don’t want anyone around here thinking I’m dating a crazy person,” He opened the glass doors again and escorted you into the lobby of the building.

Your mind didn’t know what to focus on first; the fact that he had this mysterious office shower, that he had offered for you to use said shower, or the fact that he just referred to you as a ‘woman he was dating’. You just followed him silently into his office with a smitten grin on your face.

He wasn’t lying when he was in the ‘middle’ of something. Papers were strewn all about his desk, a white board with bullet points for arguments and cross examinations scribbled on it. You finally got a good look at him without the anger of having food all over your judgement. He looked tired, not the usual smooth and pristine Rafael Barba you were used to. But when he looked back at you to show you where his shower was, his green eyes sparkled gazing into yours.

“So, I have some spare suits in a closet here, would you mind hanging out in one of my dress shirts while I wash...these?” He gestured to your dirty clothes. Wait, wash?

You suddenly realized he had led you into a secret room to the side of his office, behind a bookcase.

“Wha…” You looked around the room. There was a shower, a wardrobe, a washer/dryer combo, and a suit steamer. “Jesus Barba, are you sure you don’t live here?”

“No I promise I don’t,” He shook his head with a laugh. “...But I may have on occasion fallen asleep here enough to invest in this,”

“And what happens when this office is passed on to a new ADA?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Then I’m sealing this place off like a mausoleum,” He stated very seriously, causing you to giggle. He loved your giggle, it was so small and soft, just like you.

“Anyway,” He shook off his momentary daze at your giggle hoping you didn’t notice. “Like I said-- Shower, dress shirt. Just put your dirty clothes in the washer and we’ll pop them in the dryer later,”

“Right,” You nodded, definitely having noticed his dreamy stare at your giggle. How had you gone from completely under his radar to making him giddy like a school boy in two days?

“Right,” He nodded back. “I’ll just be out here...ordering another pizza,” He smirked. “By the way, I’ll totally reimburse you for the one you’re wearing,” He stuck his tongue out at you with a huge grin.

“Oh you better,” You gave him the same face back. “Or I’ll cover you in it,” You lightly pressed a marinara sauce covered finger into his perfectly white dress shirt. He glanced down at it in horror.

“Oh that was so--” He started to tickle and attack you, but realized that would only make his outfit dirtier. “This isn’t over,” He wagged a finger at you as he pointed you to the shower. You gave him one last cheeky smile as he walked out and shut the door to his secret room.

What was happening? Why were you getting to him so easily, so fast? How could he have not even remembered that he had ‘met’ you several times? Well, one thing was for sure. He was never going to forget this night.

#rafael barba #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba fanfiction #rafael barba x you #rafael barba x reader #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfiction #not my yacht

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nerdygaymormon · 3 years ago

Note

Hi, I’m going to byu this next year and I’m quite scared. Is there anything I should know? Also, I’m toying with the idea of going back into the closet just to make it easier in class and around extended family, because I know going to byu will hurt, but maybe I can make it hurt less? Idk, I’d just really appreciate some sort of response about this because you seem like the kind of person that can give a knowledgeable response. Ty for reading :)

Let me begin by saying my BYU student days are long ago and most of what I share is what I’ve learned from students the past few years or from when I visit campus and speak to people.

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I know people who've been out but went back into the closet for reasons like going to BYU or moving to a new ward. And after experiencing what it's like to be out, being back in the closet the second time is a tougher experience. They recognize they are suppressing themselves.

I understand your desire to go back in the closet and how it gives you the opportunity to come out to roommates and friends after you test the water, maybe ask them questions and get a sense of their level of acceptance.

An alternative to going back into the closet is find an apartment with another queer person living there. If you know some queer BYU students, ask them to help you find housing with a queer roommate. If you don't know any queer BYU students, perhaps some will read this and message you, or I can contact a few for you.

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The Out Foundation partners with Flourish Therapy to provide therapy for free to queer BYU students. I've only heard good things about Flourish, other than there's typically a wait list and may take weeks/months to get seen and assigned a therapist.

There's also CAPS, the university's counseling & psychological center, and I believe they're included in your student fees, so no additional costs to meet with their counselors. I've also heard good things from queer students who seek help from here.

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USGA is the off-campus group for queer BYU students & their allies. They meet at the Provo library (the old BYU Academy bldg). They meet weekly and have activities. I highly recommend. This is a chance to meet other queer people in a situation similar to you. USGA may also be a route to find a queer roommate.

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If you find that BYU is too much and you need to transfer, The Out Foundation might assist. Last year they raised money to help queer students transfer from BYU after the Honor Code change fiasco. They have a guide to transferring. It's better to get a degree from UVU than to be depressed and suicidal at BYU. Plus the name of the institution you graduate from will follow you the rest of your life and people will assume things about you based off of where you went.

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Caleb Stewart put together this map to Gender Neutral Bathrooms on BYU Campus

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At BYU, your ward will assign you into FHE groups, often it's 1 or 2 men's apartments and 1 or 2 women's apartments assigned together.

Here's the thing, FHE isn't mandatory for your ecclesiastical endorsement, so skip it if going makes you cringe. There's a social aspect of going to college, and many find FHE contributes to that.

If you have roommates, they may pressure you to go, but tell them you have class/study group or your going to your parents' house or whatever excuse you want.

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If you want to avoid a calling, there's a couple strategies. Don't draw attention to you the first 3 weeks of school, that's when most callings are extended, maybe go to a friend's ward. If possible, leave your records in your home ward for 2 or 3 weeks until the big rush of callings is over.

You can avoid your BYU ward only a few times because you will need the bishop to renew your ecclesiastical endorsement. Elders Quorum and Relief Society are where your attendance will be taken.

If you really don't want a calling, you can decline the calling. Some callings are more demanding than others.

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The school network used to be monitored, or had software that blocked certain sites, I don’t know what the current situation is. Until you know, be careful what stuff you access on the school network. Things that come across as anti-Mormon may be noticed and get flagged.

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A different strategy would be to tell shame to take a hike and hang up a rainbow Pride flag when you first move in. If your roommates ask (which they probably will), you can choose to say you're an ally or you are queer. You make the move to indicate this is going to be a queer-safe space.

If they really are uncomfortable with the idea of living with someone who is queer or an ally, they may try to transfer to a different apartment. And if so, good move as it will remove a hostile person from your life.

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Ben Schilaty is a gay man who works in the BYU Honor Code office. Arranging to go by his office to introduce yourself and ask him for advice on how to have a better time at BYU is a good idea. His position is to enforce the Honor Code, so you can ask him about what is or isn't allowable at BYU, but don't go confessing things because he is a school official and would have to take action.

Blake Fisher is a gay man who works as an inclusion advisor in the Office of Student Success and Inclusion. He's worth a visit to see what steps BYU is taking to include queer students. He likely will have some advice on how to be successful as a queer student.

You'll probably be surprised by the number of faculty who are allies and display a rainbow or trans flag outside their office door. One faculty member I would recommend meeting is Roni Jo Draper. She was head of PFLAG in Provo, and is on the board of the ACLU. She'll likely be able to recommend other professors who are queer-friendly.

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You can generally have a good time at BYU. However, anytime you mention queer topics, there's the possibility someone will overhear and respond negatively. You never know when a queerphobic talk will be given at church or a bigoted comment made in class. Feeling like you may experience these things at any time can make a person feel a bit paranoid and that they need to be careful.

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While individual professors may call out people who make such comments in your class, don't expect the administration to take your side. In questions of personal dignity versus someone who claims they're defending church doctrine, the personal dignity of queer people gets sacrificed every time.

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There are opportunities, such as volunteering at Encircle House or running for USGA leadership, that give you an opportunity help better the lives of queer people, and that is a fantastic feeling to know you're making a positive difference.

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A recent poll found 13% of BYU students identify as LGBTQIA. Queer students are there and if you can find some, they'll introduce you to others. Being at BYU as a queer student can feel isolating, but you're not alone. Finding other queer students is very helpful. That group of students are generally very loving and supportive because they know what it's like.

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As BYU is not an affirming, welcoming place for LGBTQIA students, it is up to you to build yourself a support network. This includes faculty who are allies that you can talk with, finding other queer students with whom you can talk about the ignorant things you have to deal with, USGA where you can hang with other queer students, and so on.

Also monitoring your mental health is important because there's an ongoing low-level of stress that goes with being a queer student at BYU. If you need help, get into CAPS or Flourish and look at the possibility of transferring to another school, you may qualify for in-state tuition depending on several factors.

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tokoyamisstuff · 4 years ago

Text

Betrothed - Illumi Zoldyck x Reader

Chapter 3: Blood

Summary: While treating Illumi’s wounds, you learn something about his past.

Warnings: Well...blood. Mentions of past abuse. Choking.

Words: ~1800

Story Masterlist

“You could at least try to relax when you’re at home, Lumi.”

As usual, every muscle on Illumi’s body was tensed as he shifted around on the small wooden chair, his upper half completely bare.

Running your hands over his delicate skin, you couldn’t help but humming happily while opening the first-aid-kit.

Lumi.

That nickname wasn’t really creative, you had to admit. Yet there were still many thoughts connected to it.

How it sounded a lot like ‘Luna’, for example - the latin word for ‘moon’. Illumi pretty much had a moon face anyway.

A wet and warm feeling on your fingertips got you down to earth again - it was your husbands blood, steadily running down his whole back. Quickly, you got a gauze pad to absorb it and started working.

Had it come to you fancying him that much that you already lost yourself in daydreams?

The deep cut on his shoulder would most likely leave a scar, no matter how well you’d treat it. Yet what bothered you more was the fact that he had acutally tried to hold the gap together with his way too big needles.

“Sorry...” you whispered as you tugged them out of his flesh, but he wouldn’t even flinch.

He insisted it was fine, and you knew that he was used to the pain. But he could still feel it, even if his face remained as cold and calm as always.

God knows what’s going on in his head...your husband was very hard to read, actually.

But you knew he wasn’t just a puppet for his family. Illumi had some thoughts of his own, and you burned to get through to him.

The flesh wound was still bleeding, and since it hadn’t been properly closed in hours, you needed to clean it first. “I’m so sorry” you repeated, pouring some disinfectant into the cut.

“Stop apologizing.” The way he emphasized the words made him almost sound irritated.

“B-But I-”

“You’re assisting me as I demanded, so there’s no rational reason for you to say something like that.” It were moments like this that made you think Illumi actually tried to calm you down - the best he knew how. Through choosing his words wisely.

After the bleeding stopped, you began stitching up the wound while your husband was still sitting as if frozen in place.

“I-I just don’t want you to feel more pain than necessary...” He was used to way worse. You were well aware of that fact, and yet-

“Y/N.” Hearing your name escaping his lips, you immediately got attentive. “Is that the reason you’re holding back while sparring with me?”

For a long while, the room fell completely silent.

Because both of you knew he was right.

“I see.” Before you could even think of an answer, Illumi jumped up from his chair, running his hand over your handiwork. “Thanks for the bandage.”

Oh god, he was preparing to leave again. Maybe forever this time.

Soon, he’ll tell his parents you were unfit for an assassin’s spouse - too soft and weak.

Death was a bearable punishment for your shortcomings, but simply being thrown out like a toy one has grown tired of?

How pathetic, being afraid of conseqences you now only imagined. Knowing very well that empathy was considered futile in this environment.

And yet you were shocked it came that way, only because of you speaking your mind.

“Illumi, wai-”

He cut you off right there, turning around with his hand reaching for your neck.

Illumi’s aura had always been intense, laced with a bloodlust that seemed like it was imprinted on him at his very birth.

You’ll never get used to seeing him like this.

“Are you scared?” he asked just before his fingers wrapped around your throat, repeating the question at your lack of reaction. “Are you afraid of me?”

Slowly but increasingly, the pressure on your neck began to become discomforting, making you wince a little.

Yet your look wouldn’t falter, rather decided taking on a staring contest with him.

“I’m afraid of you leaving me.”

Just like that, he retracted his hand.

The look in your eye gave it away. Every word, every syllable you spoke was true.

Even Illumi could tell just how much genuine affection they held - and he wasn’t immune to it either.

You cleared your throat and he only now realized just how much force he had used on you. Yet instead of apologizing as would be appropriate, he decided on continuing his interrogation.

“Why?” Illumi croaked, sounding a little bit broken. Hewasn’t able to speak any more, still baffled at your statement.

To ever think you could caught him off guard with such a simple sentence - but even through his poker face, you could feel his mind racing.

You sighed quietly, nervously tapping with your foot. “Do I really need to repeat that? It’s embarassing...”

No answer. Instead he stared you down even more intense.

“I like you, Lumi. This is my home, and I feel happy when I’m with you. Simple as that.”

Finally, he gave in to his exhaustion and took a seat on the sofa, with you following him closely after.

No matter what might follow, right now he needed some time. That much was obviously. So you just try to share your calming aura in silence.

You knew that puzzled expression way too well.

He’d put it on whenever something went past his comprehension, like when you once asked him about thinks he enjoyed or his dreams for the future.

“You look so sad...” you had once commented at an old photo of his. If you had to guess, he was about 4 years old at the time it was taken.

“Dunno” he tried to avoid further conversation back then, “Can’t remember.”

Just how often did you want to tell him that it was wrong? That his parents - no, his whole family - was full of sociopaths, and that they had stained his innocence through their wrongdoings and overeagerness?

And yet you had always kept quiet in the end.

Because you knew what it meant to him. The last bit of his sanity would probably break down if he knew all of the pain he had endured was wrong and abnormal.

Yes, their bonds were sure strange ones: They manipulated and harmed each other, all for the sake of the greater goal and the continuation of their bloodline.

That was probably how criminals beyond redemption desperately try to cling to their last bit of humanity - through the only people they can trust and be close to: Other murderers.

But at least you wanted to make him learn how to feele truly loved: For what he really was, and not only his obedience or achievements.

Right now, however, his elbows were resting on his knees, he was bent over and holding his chin with his hands. That position made it even harder for you to read him.

“I trust you with my life” you said without the slightest hint of hesitation in your voice. “It belongs to you ever since the day we married.”

Illumi cocked his head upwards, empty orbs staring holes into you.

“They think I’m a monster.”

Huh?

Usually, Illumi isn’t really a man of many words. That fact should change tonight.

“I heared them talk” he began explaining as if it was the most normal thing in the world. “About regretting training me so harshly. I was their first child, more like an experiment at how to raise an even more powerful assassin.”

You nodded in silence, trying to signalize him that you were listening - and that you cared.

So he kept on. “I’m the reason my brothers were allowed more freedom. Having the right to feel and think on their own. And now Killua has left us. If I hadn’t been a failure, they would’ve trained him stricter.”

He blamed himself, thinking he was responsible for being a failed experiment.

Dear god.

“Mother said she’s afraid of me. I was 10. Everyone else at the family at least bear certain, acceptable emotions. She said I’m dead on the inside and it freaked her out.”

Every single word of him shot needles into your heart, tears already filling the rim of your eyes. You grabbed the fabric tight, trying to hold yourself together for your sake.

“Illumi...”

You knew from the very second that many things were haunting that poor man’s conscience - but what he had just confided was just hard to bear.

In an attempt to comfort him, you instinctively shuffled closer until there was no gap between the two of you. It was an awkward closeness, but soothing nonetheless.

“It’s okay” he spoke in a tone that was unfamiliar soft for his standarts. “I understand how you all feel. I may not be able to emphasize with any feelings, but I can intelectually comprehend them.”

“Now cut it out!” This time it was you disrupting him, through a soft poke on his already injured shoulder.

"That’s bullshit and you know it. No person is absent of all emotions. You just shoved them into the back of your head and tried to surpress them. With your kind of childhood that was probably the only way to survive without completely losing it.”

His eyes shifted between your face and the place where your shoulders would touch, soaking every word like a dry sponge.

“And you do care about your family, right?” Well, how couldn’t he? It was the only way of mimicking normalcy he could pretend to have. “You’d do anything to keep them safe.”

“I just don’t get it” he murmured as you softly caressed his hand. “My allies are usually also mass murderers and psychopaths. But you are almost perfectly normal.”

Normal? You were an assassin too, goddamn it!

“Most would describe you as a very kind and sympathetic person. You should despise or at least fear me. They all do.”

“Not everything has to be logical, Lumi. I don’t think it makes sense either, but I also doubt that you’re a bad person. You’re much more of a victim.”

“Is that so...” That question sounded more like he was highly doubting it.

Just now you were realizing how slumped he was leaning back on the couch. That whole conversation had probably drained his energy reserves more than any mission ever could.

“Rest now, dear.” Carefully, without alerting him, you wrapped your arm around Illumi’s head and gently led him to your lap. “We can talk later.”

Much to your surprise, your husband would slowly close his eyes, swiftly drifting into sleep at hearing the steady beating of your heart.

“I’m sorry for frightening you, Y/N” he whispered those last words barely audible, fingers squeezing the flesh of your thigh ever so slightly.

“You didn’t. You never do.”

___

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