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the-marshals-wife · 1 year ago

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Angel Shot (John Wick x Reader)

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

A/N: Just a little something because I missed writing for John and watching all the movies again on winter break has got me feeling inspired. ♥

Description: John Wick x Fem!Reader, protective John fluff | Warnings: mild language, alcohol, suggestive themes, Y/N is harassed/threatened and John intervenes | Setting: before Helen (or AU without her, you decide) | Word count: 1,474

Gif credit: user johnswick

Imagine John coming to your defense when a former associate won't leave you alone

It had been a long week. All you wanted was a moment of peace and a cold drink. Normally, you had no trouble finding that at the bar within the New York Continental. On this night, however, you found yourself wishing you had gone elsewhere. No sooner had you taken the first sip of your cocktail did Rico Augustine spot you from across the room.

You keep your eyes fixed forward and pretend not to notice his approach on your right.

"Look who it is," he announces, mockery in his voice, "The rooftop sniper."

"Rico," you acknowledge placidly. You could already sense this interaction would not remain civil. A quick glance his direction allowed you to take notice of his haggard, unshaven face and wrinkled suit. Even in the subdued glow of the mood lighting, you could see the wildness in his bloodshot eyes as he clutched the edge of the bartop.

"I'd offer to buy you a drink," he starts, leaning in closer, "but considering I'm a little light of funds right now, maybe you should be the one getting me something, huh?"

The alcohol on his breath was strong enough to burn your nose. Apparently, he'd managed to evade both sleep and sobriety since you last spoke.

"I already have one," you say, gesturing with your glass, "And I'm not sure you need another."

"It really is the least you can do, after what you stole from me," he provoked, his disgust poorly veiled.

His proximity, paired with his odor and audacity, set a fire in your blood.

"Are we really going to go over this again?" you ask, turning toward him, "I didn't know you were there last night. I wouldn't have taken the shot if I had. I don't work like that."

"You know that's my territory. I followed that mark for two hours and you took him right out from underneath me. I needed that money," he seethes, drawing out his next words, "You owe me."

You pivot back to the bar, your temper flaring. "It was an open contract, Rico. Just because we worked together on the Morocco Exchange doesn't mean I owe you," you state, taking a swig before speaking once more, "I already gave you a 30% cut, from a profit you didn't earn in the first place. That means we're finished."

His hand flies up to grab your wrist, causing you to drop your drink. The glass rattles and liquid sloshes out as it hits the bartop, but it does not fall over. With the dull roar of music and conversation filling the room, the noise isn't enough to catch the distracted bartender's attention.

"What if I say we're not?" he asks, his voice growling in your ear, "What if we're only finished when I say we are?"

Before you can answer or go for the dagger concealed in your shirt sleeve, you feel the cold steel of a concealed blade begin to dig into your ribs.

"I tried being polite, but you just had to keep flapping those lips of yours."

"You don't want to do this," you warn through gritted teeth.

"Wrong again," he sneers, his gratified tone sending a shiver down your back, "Why don't we continue this conversation up in my room, hm?"

You try to make eye contact with the bartender, but his back is still turned toward you, occupied with a chatty patron. Only one option remained: be even less civil. You try to free your dagger slowly from its sheath on your forearm without Rico noticing. It starts to slide loose as he pulls you toward him with a sickening laugh. The hilt is almost in your palm when, in the mirror on the wall of liquor bottles, you catch a glimpse of someone approaching from behind. They come to stand at your left a few seconds before you hear a voice that brings immediate relief.

"Hey, Y/N."

"Hey, John," you say.

"Nice night," he remarks.

"Sure is," you reply, glancing to him from the corner of your eye.

"Evening, Rico. Can I buy you a drink?" John asks.

"Thanks John, but Y/N and I are about tapped out for the night. Ain't that right?"

You attempt to turn your head towards John, but Rico pushes the blade harder into your side in response.

"Yeah," you say unconvincingly, wincing from the sting, "Thought about ordering an Angel Shot though."

There's a brief silence before John speaks again. "That so?"

"This doesn't concern you, Wick," Rico snarls, his fake cordiality gone in an instant, "Mind your business."

"Actually, you made it my business when you pulled that knife," John responds calmy, "Now, how about that drink? Or shall I make a dinner reservation instead?"

You feel the grip on your arm loosen a bit. Your assailant knew as well as you did what that meant. One of two things awaited him: a whiskey, or a body bag.

Despite the warning, Rico scoffs, looking past you to glare at John.

"Come on, Wick. You and I both know you don't have the balls to break hotel rules," he retorts, his thin lips curling into smirk.

John doesn't blink. "You willing to bet on that?"

You suppress the urge to smile as you watch the reflection of your harasser's face lose its gusto, along with most of the color.

"Last chance, Rico," John says, "Take your hands off her, and walk away."

Your pulse pounds in your ears.

Rico narrows his gaze, but lets go of your arm. "Of course. Whatever you say, Baba Yaga," he jeers, rubbing his mouth with his sleeve.

You exhale, but the sweaty brute leans back in close to your face and hisses, "The Boogeyman won't always be there to save you. This isn't over."

Rico starts to walk past you, but John grabs his arm, and tilts his head ever so slightly. "I didn't catch that last part."

He clears his throat, avoiding John's piercing stare. "It was nothing."

"Uh-huh," he deadpans, "Didn't think so."

"What's the matter, Wick? We're all professionals here, aren't we?" he poses; more a begrudged plea for mercy than an inquiry.

"Some of us more than others, it would seem," John replies, proceeding to lower his voice, "If you threaten her again, you'll find out just how professional I can be."

Rico clenches his jaw, his eye twitching in rage. Even as he choked on his own venom, he knew he was beaten. He violently recoils as John releases his arm, straightening his jacket and running a trembling hand through his disheveled hair. You, John, and the rest of the room watch him retreat until he's completely out of sight.

Boogeyman or not, John had a way of drawing attention. The hush that had fallen over the room fades as customers return to their drinks and conversation, no doubt now discussing what sort of gruesome scene they were nearly witnesses to.

John finally turns to you. "Are you alright?"

You nod and smile a bit, "Thanks to you."

"I'm sure you had it handled."

"Yeah, but I wasn't looking forward to scrubbing his blood out of this fabric. You can never find this color, I'd hate to toss it," you chuckle, looking down at your shirt.

"We wouldn't want that," he says, amused.

You replace your tousled hair behind your ear and meet his softened gaze. "Thank you, John."

"You're welcome, Y/N," he says, reaching into his jacket pocket, "You look like you could use a refill."

He holds up an all-too-familiar gold coin, then places it on the bartop. "On me."

"That's two I owe you then," you counter, giving him a knowing look.

"No. You don't owe me anything," he states, kind but firm. The look he gives you in return makes you feel that you shouldn't argue.

"Fair enough," you say, watching the now attentive bartender top off your beverage, "But at least let me get you a bourbon."

John retrieves his phone from another pocket, reading the screen and stowing it back as fast as he'd produced it.

"Thank you, but I'll have to take a raincheck," John says, touching your shoulder before walking away. "Take care of yourself, Y/N."

"You have business elsewhere tonight?" you question, calling after him.

"Yeah," he answers, pausing a moment, "But I won't be checking out for another day or so."

You smirk. "Be seeing you, then?"

He nods, the smallest trace of a smile on his face.

"Be seeing you."

He turns to leave, and your eyes follow him until the last. Drink back in hand, your heart continues its excited drumming. You press the cold crystal to your lips and grin. Perhaps it wasn't such a bad night after all.

"Give 'em hell, John."

#john wick x reader #john wick imagine #john wick fanfic #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #john wick #keanu reeves #my writing #first fic of 2024 #to many more 🥂

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therevengeoffrankenstein · 1 year ago

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the choices:

PROPAGANDA:

straightedge shirt

pros:

i am straight edge (which has been vital to my maintained sobriety and is therefore very important to me)

sentimental value bc fob was one of my biggest inspirations into sobering up and becoming straight edge

reminder of how far i've come and hope for the future

beautiful photo composition

dynamic pose (draws interest)

hot

cons:

changing my old icon to a new one :^(

i heart revenge shirt

pros:

fits my url (therevengeoffrankenstein)

it's kinda like he's saying he loves me / it brings a sense of self-love to my blog

the pov of the pic is very 'what my beautiful baby son sees seconds before i drop him'

decidedly emo looking

the inherent silliness of the selfie as an artform

hot

cons:

changing my old icon to a new one :^(

#myevilposts #pete wentz #pwicongate

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banyanchicago · 1 year ago

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Ring in the New Year Sober in Chicago - Tips for Hosting a Safe and Fun Sober New Year's Eve Party

"New Year’s Eve may be a popular time for gathering, but hosting a sober celebration can be just as rewarding. Allowing the recovering community to come together and create a safe space to ring in the new year is not only beneficial, it’s necessary. We’d like to give our readers some tips on hosting a sober New Year’s Eve in Chicago. You can begin prepping for a sober New Year’s Eve as early as the beginning of December. Start by setting a budget for the event and decide who will be invited. Give yourself enough time to come up with a list of reliable sponsors, volunteers, and venues. Make sure to include some substance-free activities that will appeal to all ages. The next step for hosting a sober New Year’s Eve is to determine a theme and party favors. Choose an upbeat theme to encourage party-goers to have fun and cite recovery as the basis for celebrating. Serve drinks and treats that will complement the overall décor. You can also give away party favors like t-shirts or mugs as a token of your appreciation. To keep the event knowledgeable and engaging, contact local addiction treatment centers. Ask them to provide an educational booth at your sober New Year’s celebration and invite an expert to give a speech. You can also spread awareness by including stories of hope and success from individuals in the recovery community. This will help inspire those in attendance and keep everyone motivated throughout the event. Finally, it is important to ensure that all attendees have a safe ride home after the event. Provide everyone with information about drug rehabilitation centers and sober living homes. Hosting a sober New Year’s Eve is a great way to get a head start on sobriety goals for 2021. Here are a few important takeaways from our tips: • Set a budget and a plan for the event • Include substance-free activities • Contact local addiction treatment centers for an educational booth • Invite an expert to give a brief speech • Provide attendees with information about rehab centers Making these preparations and celebrating the New Year without the temptation of drugs or alcohol is an accomplishment in every sense. We wish everyone a safe, sober and healthy end to 2020!"

#Drug Detox #Substance Abuse Treatment #Drug Rehab #Alcohol Rehab #Opiate Addiction

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wabastian · 1 year ago

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Check out our vintage-inspired "It Works if You Work For It Sober" t-shirt, a powerful message of hope and determination for those in recovery. This tee is perfect for Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) and Narcotics Anonymous (NA) members, celebrating the 12-step program and the journey to sobriety. It makes a meaningful gift to support someone on their path of recovery.

#vintage #soberlife #recovery #sobrietygift #AA #NA #12stepsprogram #addictionrecovery #tshirt #inspiration #hopeful

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smaller-comfort · 1 month ago

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sorry BRB gonna just be over here in a corner screaming about people doing body shots off of B'st. amazing. inspired. I'm going to be giggling about this for the rest of the night. wow.

I love the idea of Aephorul using his flesh magic to internalize all of his alchemy- I've thought about it in the context of him synthesizing body parts and things of that nature, but he could absolutely do it to get himself drunk or high if he wanted to. Or other people- if he's in a good mood, licking his tentacles can get you pleasantly buzzed.

Resh'an's alcohol tolerance, like his spice tolerance, becomes a source of terrible fascination for the kids. He can drink Yolande under the table, and he doesn't bat an eye at the taste of her moonshine. (Thankfully, nobody accidentally drinks the paint thinner they try to serve him.)

Valtraid has a higher alcohol tolerance with the shirt off, so he can use that to get a brief burst of sobriety- but if he does it too many times in a row, he'll just speedrun having a hangover.

Sea of Stars Drinking Headcanons

Zale: A wild, boisterous drunk. He gets crazy when he’s had a lot of alcohol and loves to get in trouble. Enjoys drinking games and all kinds of alcohol. Has burned his own eyebrows off trying to light a sunball on fire by pouring whiskey on it.

Valere: …Not as crazy as Zale, but oh, she encourages him when she’s also drunk. Tends to be more reserved when drinking, but can handle her alcohol better than her partner. Has gotten stuck on a roof trying to howl at the moon and become a “Lunar Were-Monk.”

Garl: He has a high tolerance for alcohol, and can drink quite a bit before he gets tipsy. Finds alcohol to be a culinary addition and much prefers to drink alongside a meal for the best experience. Turns into a happy, cuddly drunk and needs to be walked home.

Teaks: A playful, cheery drunk who gets a little over-the-top when she’s had a lot to drink — but this is rare, as she doesn’t drink alcohol often. Prefers the fancy, fruity cocktails. Sometimes spills a few too many details in stories when drunk, and doesn’t remember it when she’s sobered again.

Seraï: A reserved, more contemplative drunk. Alcohol passes very quickly through her system, so while she gets drunk fast, she sobers up really fast. Tends to become more emotional when she drinks, and because she’s less inhibited, lets out all the pent-up feelings.

Resh'an: His tolerance for alcohol as a human was pretty good, and he used to (still does!) love making all kinds of drinks, as an alchemist. Truly a connoisseur; if you can imagine it, he’s drank it. He’s a flamboyant man, apparent when he’s drunk, and loves to show off and give people Eagle Rides.

Aephorul: As a human, his tolerance for alcohol was nil. Just one or two drinks would have him all tipsy, and Resh would have to carry him home. He doesn’t drink now, though. Why drink, when he could respire anaerobically, and with flesh alchemy ferment the stuff in his own muscles? Resh’an hates this, by the way. Super gross! Or… is it? Hard to know unless you try some!

B'st: Can’t really have alcohol in the traditional sense, but Resh’an found a way to “inject” it into B’st system for a bit. Needless to say, that was a very crazy time. B’st happens to enjoy letting others do body shots off of himself, as well as performing his own glass tricks, laughing and singing when he’s tipsy.. though he feels wistful he can’t experience it in his native body.

The Pirates: All of them love a good drink from time to time, be it sharing some ale or making fancier ones for big occasions. They aren’t fussy and will partake in whatever they get! Yolande is the most troublesome of the trio when she’s had some, and gets into the most shenanigans (she has the dynamite..), probably brews her own equivalent of Moonshine. Valtraid is a very lightweight drunk and it doesn’t take long for him to get tipsy at all, so he sometimes refrains and keeps an eye on the others. Keenathan is a hugger, and gets super lovey with Seraï, often clinging onto her or (to her dismay) sitting in her lap, loudly proclaiming his love for her.

#sea of stars #nattering #delightful headcanons

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ladyinwriting18 · 2 years ago

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You're On Your Own, Kid (Adam Sackler x You)

Summary: Having Adam Sackler as a neighbor and best friend has it's perk. Especially when you need a shoulder to cry on.

Words: 2,122

Warnings: No sexual warnings! Nothing but best friends being there for one another who have some hidden feelings for one another. Author's Note: This is my first ever Adam Sackler one-shot! The idea for this was heavily inspired by Taylor Swifts new song "You're On Your Own, Kid". After hearing the song ONCE I couldn't get this idea out of my head so were we go. Hope everyone enjoys!

You knock on the door of his apartment with tears streaming down your face. You hadn’t bothered to call or text. Adam hates technology. If he was free to talk he’d answer his front door and invite you in and if he wasn’t you’d wander the streets floundering in your sadness. Adam Sackler has been your next store neighbor for a year now. He was the first person in the building to be nice to you. You could clearly remember your move in date. All those heavy boxes. No one had offered to help. No one except Adam.

His help had been invaluable and as a reward you had ordered pizza that you both ate on your living room floor and got to know one another. You were fast friends after that. In the grand scheme of things, a year isn’t a long time to truly know someone, but when it comes to your friendship with Adam it feels like a lifetime. You both rely on one another more than most neighbors. Each of you have developed a habit of just showing up at one another’s apartment when in crisis or facing things like boredom. It’s hard not to when you live down the hall from one another. The two of you turn to each other for just about anything. Adam needing to run lines for an audition? You were there. Your job stressing you out? He was there. Adam dealing with his unresolved feelings for Hanna? You were there. You getting into an argument with a friend? He was there. Adam spiraling about feeling like a failure and ultimately his sobriety? You were there. You crying over a breakup? He was there Adam wanting to go out and eat Chinese food at 2AM? You were definitely there.

Truthfully, you’re thankful for his presence in your life. Adam might be a big goofball and a horndog but deep down he has a kind heart that he tries to hide from most people. It’s a fact you relish in because it makes you feel closer to him than any other.

You were one another’s confidants and told each other things that you didn’t dare tell another living soul.

That’s why you find yourself at his door, because right now all you need is your friend.

A moment later the door opens to reveal the hulking form of your neighbor. He’s dressed down in a simple olive green t-shirt and jeans. All while holding a freakishly large sandwich.

“Holy fuck I was just thinking about you! I just made the most banging sandwich. You gotta take a bite.”

Your eyes flick up to meet his gaze and that’s when he sees your tear stained cheeks.

“Shit.” Adam curses under his breath, turning away for half a second to place his sandwich down somewhere before turning back and ushering you into his place with a hand on your upper back. “Everything is going to be alright, kid. You just go make yourself comfortable on the couch.”

You do as you're told, knowing the drill well enough by now. Any second now he was going to offer you food. To Adam, food cured any ailment. You’d smile at how adorable that is if you didn’t feel so exhausted from crying.

You sit down on the couch with a sigh and pray the thing just swallows you whole.

“Can I get you anything? Food, water, a pillow?”

You shake your head while more tears escape. Your eyes meet his deep brown ones and let your words tumble out.

“I-I just need my friend.” His features soften. He looks as if he’d give you the world if you asked for it. Without another word he comes to sit down beside you on the couch. His arm comes around you, letting you lean against him while he strokes your arm. For a few minutes, neither one of you speaks. You simply soak up the comfort being offered to you. It’s only once some of your tension dissipates that Adam speaks again. “What happened, kid? Why are you crying?” “It’s stupid.” You huff at yourself in annoyance and feverishly swipe at your tears. Just because Adam had seen you cry before didn’t make being this vulnerable any easier. You feel the tip of his nose pressing into your scalp, as if he’s trying to stop himself from smelling your hair. “Tell me anyway?” His voice is a low whisper. You do your best to suppress the shiver it triggers. Adam might be your friend but that doesn’t make him any less attractive. Determined to not be railroaded by his strong body and pretty face you sit up slightly. It gives you enough personal space to think clearly. “It’s just a build up of things. You know? Disappointments.” He chuckles in agreement, “I can say I’ve absolutely had my share of those. What’s been disappointing you?” “More like who.” You angrily mutter. “Alright then. Who’s disappointing you?” You can hear the grin in his tone without even looking at him. He’s always found your anger adorable. As infuriating as that is, it isn’t what’s important now. You came here to vent. You came here to unload so for even a few minutes this burden wasn’t yours to carry.

Your shoulders slump in defeat. You’re suddenly too exhausted to be your normally fiery self. “A lot of people….But I guess mostly myself.” “I’m not sure I understand?” You try your best to piece your thought process together into words. It isn’t an easy task but somehow you manage. “I’m disappointed in myself because I give people too much power over me. I love too hard….care too deeply. People keep taking advantage of that and I….let them.” You choke, the words getting caught in your throat. Adam shushes you and softly prompts you to take your time. You nod, giving yourself a moment to take a few deep breaths. When you feel capable you try again to continue. “I once read somewhere that what you give power to has power over you. I think that’s my problem. I let people into my life, I love them, encourage them, give them my time and they revel in it until they move onto better things. It’s draining! I’m tired of my self worth being determined by how other people treat me!” The volume of your voice picks up a notch. Your sadness turns into bitterness that tastes like lemon rinds on your tongue. “Rationally I know that when people treat you shitty it’s not a reflection on you but it’s so hard to not blame myself. My brain automatically tells me if I was a better friend, a prettier girlfriend, a more motivated worker none of this would happen!” You swipe your arm across your face, determined to not drip snot on top of crying. You didn’t need to be gross and pathetic. Adam takes this moment to interject with a question. “Are we talking about a specific person?” You shake your head. “No, just noticing a pattern of behavior. People keep waltzing in and out of my life like it’s no big deal. As if I had no meaning to them in the first place and I’m sick. of. it.”

Each of your words is punctuated with anger. So much so that a quiet hush falls. The only sounds come from the busy Manhattan streets below. Somewhere in the distance a car horn is blown, a group of friends loudly laughs, a dog barks at a jogger.

These noises don’t phase either of you. The sounds of the city are so much a part of your everyday life that they have no chance in snatching your attention.

But Adam’s next choice of words can.

“You’re on your own, kid. You always have been.”

You roll your eyes so hard it’s a wonder that they don’t get trapped inside your skull. “Yeah thanks Adam. That’s exactly what I need to hear right now.”

Your sarcasm drips like maple syrup down the side of a pancake stack.

Adam lightly nudges your ribs with his elbow.

“I don’t mean it like that. I mean that you’re the only one that you can truly count on. Yeah you’ve got friends and family who care about you, but in the end it’s your strength that has to carry you through.”

Goddamn him and his random insightful advice.

“But what if I’m not strong enough? What if I can’t keep this up anymore?”

The emotions begin to take over and make your eyes glassy with fresh tears.

Something tugs at your chin and turns it towards Adam. You quickly realize it’s his hand gently cupping your chin so you’re looking him in the eye.

“Of course you’re strong enough. You’ve gotten through all your past bad days, haven’t you? You did that. Not anyone else.”

You gape at him, having no clue how to respond because he’s right. Even when loved ones give you support it’s you that chooses to take that support and keep pushing forward. You lean into his touch, wanting the warmth of it to sear into your flesh. “I-it’s really hard.” Your voice cracks. It’s too difficult to keep it all in check right now. His brows pull together, the empathy evident on his face. “I know it is, kid. But if anyone believes in you, it sure as hell is me.” “Adam…..” You breathe out his name as tremendous emotion grips your heart. Your eyes flick from his lips to his eyes. When did the two of you move closer in? Now there were only inches separating your mouths. You forget why you came here and what you were upset about. It all dissipates because the man besides you makes it all seem meaningless. Why couldn’t more people in your life be like him? Especially the men. If any of the guys you dated cared even just a fraction of the way Adam did then your love life would look a lot different. Some part of you murmurs out a question. What would it be like to kiss him? “Maybe you should focus on the people and relationships that don’t make you doubt what you mean to them?” You nod your head and simultaneously straighten your spine. He’s being sensible and it snaps you back to reality. The one where you and Adam are only friends. Given half the chance you know you would want more but the thought of ruining the safety you had found just down the hall from you is terrifying. You couldn’t risk it. You couldn’t lose your best friend. “And it’s also important that you stand on your own two feet.”

Oh shit, was he still talking?

You give him your full attention, nodding along as he continues. He also resituates his position, sitting forward so his forearms rest atop his knees.

“You’ve got a good head on your shoulders and you clearly take care of yourself, your home, your responsibilities but I think you’re right about not letting these douchebags affect you so much.” He turns his head to look at you, wanting to make sure his words were sinking in.

“If they don’t value you then fuck ‘em. They don’t deserve a place in your life anyway. The right people are already here for you.”

You guessed he was right but…..

“So….what? I’m supposed to just not let anyone new into my life?”

He chuckles, causing the corners of his eyes to crinkle in amusement.

“No you goof. I’m telling you to live your life. Make new friends, go out and have fun, kiss lots of guys or girls, travel, do things out of your comfort zone. Take each moment and really enjoy it but don’t be afraid when disappointment comes or when people walk away.”

He leans back, finds your hand resting on your knee and places his hand over it. He laces your fingers together and reassuringly squeezes.

“You’ve got no reason to be afraid. No matter what you gain or lose, is still a step forward.”

You squeeze his hand in return and offer him a smile. And as much as some part of you still longs to know what being loved by him would feel like—you realize that here and now is you.

For healing.

For self improvement.

For happiness.

For selfishly taking care of you and you only.

Maybe one day time would be on your side. Maybe one day you’d both be ready for something more.

But for now, it was enough to be holding your best friend’s hand in his cluttered mancave of an apartment.

“Thank you, Adam.”

He grins, his uneven teeth poking through. “Anytime, kid.”

#adam sackler #lady in writing #adam sackler x reader #adam sackler x you #hbo girls #adam sackler fanfiction #adcu #adcu fic #adcu community

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mercy-burning · 4 years ago

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Fake Fiancée

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Summary: Spencer is left waiting at a bar when he gets in some trouble, and meets a woman who offers to help him out in more ways than one.

Category: SMUT (18+)

Warnings: Language, virgin!Spencer, car sex/exhibitionism, handjob, brief mention of edging, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, degradation kink, minor voyeurism kink, dirty talk (If I missed anything, please let me know!)

Word Count: 7k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: Hi, there!! Most of you have been extremely excited about this one since I shared the idea for it a few weeks ago, and so I’m glad to finally get to release it for you!! There’s a playlist here for you to check out if you’d like some ~vibes~ and over on @mercy-midnight I shared a few visual inspirations last night, so check them out if you want! Thank you for all your enthusiasm over this fic, I hope it lives up to your expectations!! 🥰

***

I've always loved the rain.

And it was definitely going to rain soon. How soon, I wasn't entirely sure, but as I made my way into the bar, taking one final breath of fresh air before it would inevitably be taken over by alcohol, greasy food, and way too much cologne, I could smell it. Cool and fresh, waiting to serve as some type of fresh start, to wash away all the hard shit and give me a clean slate.

The gaudy ring on my finger was one of those hard things I wished I could wash away. At least, it had been for a long time. Patrick never asked for it back after he left, and I'd had every intention of pawning it off, but I started noticing—after a few nights out where I'd tried to get hammered and nailed—that it scared everybody off.

I guess no one wanted to fuck a married woman—and a drunk married woman at that. Even if she technically wasn't even married anymore. Which I found all particularly odd considering my experience with men in the past has proved to provide me with extremely low standards.

It'd turned out to be a blessing in disguise, though. Sure, it might have taken me longer to completely get over Patrick and the mess he left me, but rather than losing myself in the lonely company of strangers, I forced myself to reflect and move on, to take each day in stride and take time for myself. Could I have just taken the ring off and gotten laid? Absolutely. But being on my own like that was the wakeup call I didn't know I'd needed.

And now, almost a year later, the ring sat tucked away in my jewelry box until I wanted it— usually when I knew I was going to the bar with every intention of getting hammered and not nailed. There were the occasional persistent players, but they were few and far in between, and if all else failed I resorted to smiling sweetly at them and lying, saying my "husband" was a cop. That shut them up pretty quickly, and by that point I was ready to leave anyway.

Like I said, blessing in disguise.

After a long day at work being called in on a Saturday, a few drinks at Waterson's sounded like a perfect way to end the night. I'd gone home, showered, ate dinner, and got dressed before taking a walk down the block and crossing the near-packed parking lot. The air was quite muggy despite it only being around forty degrees, which was the first indicator of rain. The second was the smell, of course, which I'd always been fond of, and the cobbled pavement had some type of haze around it that served as the final confirmation of my theory.

Honestly, I was hoping to get caught in the rain on my way home. I couldn't tell you why, exactly, just that the idea of walking home in the rain gave me the most excitement I'd felt in a long time. Life was great at the moment, of course, but between work and my less than ideal commute there on the train every day, I think I was due for a little excitement.

That excitement, naturally, started once I opened the door to the bar, taking a step inside and quickly being smacked in the face with the smell of fried everything. A small smile crossed my lips as I went in further, jumbled conversations, glasses clinking, and music humming softly behind the sharp snaps of pool balls being shot forward with the cue completing the picture.

I walked up to the bar to find Carla standing behind it, and I smiled at her. "I didn't know you were working Saturday," I called to her as I approached.

The brunette looked over at me and beamed, her teeth as perfect as ever. "Y/N, I didn't know you came in on Saturdays! How've you been?"

I took a seat at one of the barstools, nodding as I set my wallet and my phone down. "Alright... Work's a bitch, of course, but when is it not?"

"Yeah, I hear that. There's only so much relentless flirting I can take." We shared a good laugh at that before she nodded. "What can I get you?"

"A beer?"

"You got it."

I turned around then, surveying tonight's crowd. Waterson's was decently sized— definitely not as big or popular as the other bars in the city, but it got enough traction on the weekends, and even on Tuesdays when they had open mics. As my eyes wandered, they passed over all kinds of people. Women in tight clothes and men all over them, large groups of friends over by the pool tables who were betting and yelling with large smiles on their faces, old men by themselves in some of the tucked away corners... Anyone you could think of, name it and they were there.

One scene in particular caught my eye, though, and I thought about leaving it alone, but my gut twisted when I noticed how obviously uncomfortable the person was and how there was no one around who seemed to care enough to say or do anything.

Sitting alone at a rather large table was a guy who... no offense to him or anything, but he didn't look like he belonged here, not alone anyway. With a formal button-down short sleeve, meek stature, and a pair of glasses sitting atop his nose, he was an easy target for the two men that were towering over him as he sat, eyes averting them while they conversed. It could have been nothing, but occasionally the man in the glasses would flinch or look around nervously like he was waiting to be rescued.

Not that I wanted to rescue anyone or anything tonight. But he reminded me of someone being stood up, and from experience I knew how embarrassing that was, especially in a space crowded with other people who could obviously see what was happening to you. I hated Patrick for standing me up time and time again, and it wasn't until this waitress once intervened and offered some advice that I started to understand just how fucked up it was. That didn't make it hurt any less, of course, when he inevitably said he was moving across the country and dropped divorce papers on my desk at work, but still... The talk gave me some clarity.

Whether or not this man was actually being stood up or not, it was obvious that he was uncomfortable, and I figured he could use some help.

And I had just the plan.

I watched the scene until Carla came back with my beer, at which point I turned to her with a smile and got money from my wallet.

"Hey, could I get another?"

***

"No, you specifically told me 8pm..."

"I'm pretty sure I told you 9..."

I sighed, glancing around briefly at everyone and everything around me before speaking again, almost yelling into the speaker over all the noise. "Maybe you meant 9, but you told me 8, so I'm here. Alone!"

"Hey, look, I'm sorry, Kid, alright? But we're not gonna be there until 9, so... keep yourself busy until then? Let loose, have a couple drinks..."

I could hear the smirk in Derek's voice just as easily as I could picture it in my head as I sighed out a, "Fine," and hung up. The whole situation significantly raised my blood pressure, not to mention my anxiety— It wasn't hard to see that I stood out here. Bars were most definitely not my scene, and the only reason I'd agreed to go in the first place was so that I could try something new. Expand my horizons, as Penelope had told me right before I caved and agreed to accompany her and Derek on their little outing. I'd even drove my car here, a move I rarely made, as a start.

But now I was sitting alone at a booth, a glass of water in front of me and this twisting sensation in my gut that usually came to me when I didn't know what was going to happen.

I leaned back in my seat and sighed, staring down the glass of water as my cellphone tumbled around between my hands. All I had to do was wait here for an hour and remind myself over and over that eventually I'd be with people that I knew, people that I felt comfortable around. Only an hour.

One hour...

One hour, one hour, one hour... It was a chant in my head that went through different pitches and speeds until it was interrupted by a loud, "Hey, you!"

It could have been for anyone, but it was right next to me, and I knew when I wasn't wanted somewhere.

Sure enough, I turned my head to see a rather large man, a football player-type if I had to guess, wearing a grey tee shirt that hugged every muscle. There was a beer in his hands, and someone next to him, another man slightly shorter but still definitely athletic, held what looked to be a glass of hard liquor. By the looks on their faces, it was obvious that they were looking for a fight.

And it was also obvious that I was the easiest target in the whole bar.

One glance at the clock across the room and above their heads told me that I still had 54 minutes until my friends showed up, and that meat I'd either have to give these men whatever they wanted, tell them I was just about to leave, or attempt to pull the "I'm a Federal Agent" card, which I knew would probably get more laughs from them than a simple, "Sorry," and an exit.

I was about to run through every outcome of tonight's events in my head when the bigger guy spoke again, making me jump.

"Hey, m' talking to you!" He was drunk, most likely toeing the line between sobriety and a fist fight if I wasn't careful.

"I—Is there something you need?" I asked, hoping that if I could get this over with quickly, they'd leave me alone and maybe I could get out of here...

He mocked my voice in a way I'd heard more than once while growing up, and though I knew it was childish of him, saying more about him than me, the action got to me more than I cared to admit. Call it intuition, but when a nearly-drunk guy two times your size starts picking on you like a kid and you know he's just looking for a fight, the odds aren't very good when you're someone on the smaller side like me— Federal Agent or not. And he wasn't an unsub. He wasn't someone I could pick apart and just hand over to my team once I pushed back his defenses. If I picked this man apart, he'd likely throw a punch at my face.

Of course, I could get him arrested for assaulting a Federal Agent, but... Obviously I didn't want to get punched in the face.

As soon as his mumbled mockery of my words ended, he punctuated them with his own. "Yeah, I'm thinkin' I need you to find a new place to sulk. Go to the library or somethin'."

His friend laughed beside him like he'd just said the best comeback anyone's ever heard, and that alone almost made me laugh. Though, I knew that might have gotten me into more trouble.

Speaking of, I probably should have just got up to leave. That would have been the perfect time to say, "Okay," get up, and drive home. Sure, Penelope and Derek would have probably given me crap about chickening out, but I'd have avoided getting beat around or ridiculed further by these morons, so it was overall a win, right?

But my stupid mouth didn't agree with what my brain was thinking. "Oh, well, um... I'm waiting up for some friends, they should be here soon—"

"You have friends?" the other guy retorted before I could finish, and he looked proud of himself for it.

"Look, I don't care who you're waitin' on, pal, Right now you're alone, so I want y—"

I didn't see it coming. I couldn't have seen it from a mile away, never dreamed of anything like this happening in a million years. It was certainly not one of the possible outcomes to the night that I'd had in mind. And actually, even if I'd had any time to prepare for it, seeing the woman walk up to us with two beers in her hand and the biggest smile on her face, I still wouldn't have believed what was happening.

She blocked me from the men's line of sight, sitting herself promptly on my lap as she set the drinks down. "Hey, babe, I'm back with our drinks," she chirped, leaning forward and stopping just under my ear, whispering. "If you play along, I can get them to leave you alone..."

She didn't even give me any time to process, quickly pulling back, but not before kissing me firmly on the cheek, leaving my face in a warm flush as she turned back around to survey the men, who I'd quite frankly forgotten about once she pressed her soft lips to my skin and set her hands on my chest.

What the fu—

"Who're you talking with?"

Her voice was so... low and smooth, and it sent a flood of warmth throughout my whole body. If I could have bottled up her voice to drink, I would have. But instead, I settled for the beer she'd brought, grabbing it and chugging down four big gulps even though I hated it.

"You're with this... loser?" the bigger of the two men said, and truthfully it was the first time all night I'd well and truly felt inadequate in front of them. Sure, I knew I'd stood out, that physically I was weaker than them, but I also knew that deep down they were just drunks looking for a fight. I was better than that, regardless of whether or not they'd almost bullied me into leaving the bar.

I didn't have a problem with who I was, but when it came to women, I was pretty much a total wreck. I'd only ever kissed someone once, and much like back then, this woman was absolutely stunning and completely out of my league.

The man was right to be suspicious.

"Excuse me?" my savior retorted, standing up off my lap and removing herself from me completely. I exhaled, trying hard not to look like I was just as shocked as they were as she tore them a new one. "This loser happens to be my fiancée. And I'd watch what insults you're throwing around— You're the ones going around some bar picking on someone you don't know like you're middle schoolers. Now grow the fuck up and back off before I take your drinks and shove them so far up your asses you'll still be able to taste them."

Truthfully I was surprised when they didn't back down. The bigger guy scoffed, his eyes raking the woman up and down with a wicked glint in them. "Y'know, maybe if you ditched him and got fucked by a real man, you wouldn't be such a bitch."

And once again, I was stunned by her ability to quip back quicker than lightening. "Maybe if you weren't such a childish prick, you'd actually get fucked in the first place. Now back. The fuck. Off..."

While I should have been more grateful that her words got them to scoff and turn away, a small, absolutely random part of me wanted to hear her yell at them some more. The longer she did it, the warmer my body got, and the second I started to put together why that was, I chugged more of the beer that was currently resting in my shaky hand.

It was even worse when she turned around to face me again, her radiance and beauty intimidating me in an entirely different way than those men. She wore a simple black dress that complimented her figure extremely well, minimal makeup and jewelry, and her hair was pinned back, showing off her neck and collarbone.

If she hadn't just helped me out, with the way she was looking at me I probably would have wondered if she was... trying to pick me up.

The thought made me all warm again.

"Y—You didn't have to do—"

She stepped forward and sat on my lap again, and I swallowed hard, the beer almost slipping from my hand entirely. "Don't worry about it. You looked uncomfortable, and those boys were absolute meatheads. But they are still here, so we should probably keep up the act, huh?"

I couldn't tell if she was joking or not. Either way, I set the beer on the table, though my hand still kept it firmly in my grip as I looked down at the ring on her finger. "I—I wouldn't want to get you in trouble... with your husband..."

"Oh! Uh, funny story," she laughed, leaning in and running her hands over my shoulders, most likely to keep up the façade. "I'm not actually married. Or engaged. I um... I wear this to deter people from trying to take me home."

I actually laughed a little, though my stomach still flipped at her touch and her proximity. "And that... actually works?"

She laughed with me, bringing her hands up to cradle my face as she tilted her head and looked me over. Her pretty, pillow-y soft lips quirked into a smile before her eyes flitted up to mine. She looked like she was entranced, like she was in a dream, and honestly I felt the same way. Because there was no way in actual Hell this was a real thing that was happening to me, right?

"Not always," she answered in a whisper, her face inching closer to mine. She smelled a little like beer, but mostly some type of fruit, probably pear. I didn't eat pears, but maybe I should start...

A gentle tug at the roots of my hair pulled me out of my thoughts, a soft sigh escaping me at the sensation. The woman laughed, brushing her nose against mine for a moment before pulling away and grabbing her beer. "So, since we're engaged, I feel like I should know a little about you. At the very least, your name?"

"O—oh," I laughed nervously, swallowing as she sipped her beer. And I tried not to let it get to me, but the way her lips wrapped gently around the bottle had my mind going a mile a minute, laser focusing on one image in particular of those perfect lips wrapped around something else. I wondered if she could hear the longing in my voice when I whispered my name. "Spencer."

With the beer still in her hand, she lowered it and rested it on my knee as she smiled. "Mmm, and what's my last name going to be?"

The thought of actually marrying this woman infiltrated my thoughts as I answered, louder this time, "Reid."

See hummed again, using the hand that was currently massaging the back of my scalp to gently tug at my hair again. "Y/N Reid... I like the sound of that."

I do, too, is what I thought, and I almost said it, but she started talking again.

"So, Spencer, what do you do?"

I would have gone into my entire spiel, but she was so pretty, and so close, I didn't want to scare her off. So, I simply stated, "I work for the FBI..."

Her eyebrows raised, and I felt her hand slide down my neck and settle on my shoulder. "Really?"

"Y—Yeah, I'm a profiler. We aid law enforcement in catching serial killers."

"So, Agent Reid, huh? That's hot..."

I should have just left it alone, because it was common knowledge that if a woman has any reason to call you hot, you just let it happen, right?

Well, like I said, when it came to women I was a complete wreck.

"A—Actually it's Doctor... I, um... I have 3 PhDs."

As soon as the words left my mouth I regretted them, but the hunger in her eyes deepened and her free hand roamed my shoulder and the front of my chest as she scooted even closer, her mouth coming up right under my jaw. "Mmm, even hotter..."

This time I didn't hold back, my voice audibly whimpering as I sighed out a simple, "Oh..."

Y/N pressed a featherlight kiss to my neck before dragging her lips to my ear again. And I'd been so hyperaware of her proximity to my face that I hadn't even noticed she'd set her beer down and took that hand to rest firmly at my hip, her palm pressing into my lower stomach. I only felt it when that hand moved over, the tips of her fingers hovering just above the buckle of my belt.

"Tell me something, Doctor," she whispered just under my earlobe. I was nothing short of putty in her hands as my brain tried to focus on what she was saying over the more prominent desire to focus on the way she pressed her whole body into mine. She was everywhere, taking up every ounce of air that found its way into my lungs, and I'd never breathed in anything sweeter. "Are you saving yourself for marriage?"

I found the question odd at first, but remembering the circumstances of our fake situation, my body suddenly flared to life at her implications. "N—No..."

Her hips shifted against my lap, and I swear I could have fainted on the spot as she hummed in my ear, "Good."

***

I certainly didn't expect for the night to end the way it did.

I mean, I knew I was going to be wet when I got home, but damn. We hadn't even made it out of the bar before my panties were soaked through at the thought of fucking my fake fiancée. Who worked for the FBI and called himself Doctor...

Not to mention he was fucking dreamy as hell with those honey doe-eyes and pouty lips... And his hands? I had taken one look at the one tightly holding his beer bottle for dear life and instantly went white-hot with desire, visions of them disappearing inside of me swimming in my head.

And then he had to fucking whimper when I called him hot.

Yeah, I definitely didn't expect the night to go how it did, but I wasn't mad about it in the slightest.

After explaining to him that I'd walked, and that my house was only a few blocks away, we decided to just hop in his car. Though, by the time we got there, I think we were both so eager to "get to know each other a little better," as I'd said before we actually left, that we didn't even make it out of the parking space.

Spencer fumbled around with his keys for so long, and he kept dropping them, so I just said fuck it and kissed him when he came up the third time. The sound of his keys hitting the ground for a fourth time excited me almost as much as his the way his hands trembled as they rested on my forearms.

"Pull the seat back?" I mumbled against his mouth, sliding my hands down the sides of his face and over his shoulders.

He let out a strained, "Uh huh," and fumbled around with that too, his urgency and nerves all rolled into one adorable spectacle that had the pit of my stomach in desirable knots. The seat sprung backwards, and I laughed lowly as I climbed over the center console and right into his lap, my dress riding up incredibly high.

The way Spencer looked up at me then, his eyes just as pouty as his lips as they practically sparkled with adoration and need, gave me this feeling I hadn't experienced in a long time— something that filled my bloodstream with fire and made me feel... wanted.

And that's not to say I hadn't slept with people since my divorce, but every time it happened there was hardly any connection besides the obvious need to get off. Here, with Spencer, it was different. And realistically I knew it was most likely the fact that a beautiful woman came to his rescue and pretended to be engaged to him just to get some morons off his back, but... In his eyes I saw this vulnerability that I'd never gotten with another partner. He was open and willing to take advantage of our situation to the fullest extent, sure, but within that was a pure longing to be close to someone after going so long without that connection.

I knew that look so well because it was exactly how I felt. We wanted to have sex with each other, that much was obvious, but less so was the fact that we could feel each others' loneliness. It was a shared bond that ran deeper than sexual desire, and in his eyes in that moment, I knew he could see it in me.

"D—Do you know... what it's like to feel alone, even... when you know you really aren't?" he asked as though he was reading my mind. His voice was soft, so curious and hinted with a little sadness that it made me want to hold him tight and rock him to sleep more than anything.

Still, I nodded. "Mhm... After my husband left I haven't... really been the same. I act like it's okay, and I... I really am better now that he's gone, but I just... I've spent most of my life with him, and now it's like I don't know what's out there beyond... loneliness."

It wasn't the most sexy conversation in the world, but Spencer reached out, his hands less shaky, and ghosted them over my bare arms. He looked up at me with those pretty eyes and let out a relieved breath before he spoke. "I kinda know what you mean... Not to that extent, but... I get it."

Seeing that he was more comfortable with me, I leaned in closer, bringing my fingers to brush the underside of his jaw. "And that's why you make the perfect fiancée."

I felt the laugh leave his lips before I kissed him, soft and steady, and reassured that I was in this for as long as he wanted me to be. Obviously we weren't actually engaged, but the connection that came with a real engagement felt pretty damn close to what we had going on.

And he conveyed that in the way he kissed me back, stronger than he'd been before and most certainly more skilled than he'd let on. His tongue expertly caressed mine with just the right amount of pressure and precision, and it made it easy for me to fall into him. Over time we grew more hungry, but for the most part our dance of mouth and tongue was so slow and intense, it felt like we really had known each other forever.

Eventually though, I did feel him grow harder underneath me, and the feeling kickstarted this more primal urge that caused me to groan into his mouth and rock my hips forward. Spencer's hands rested firmly at my lower back the whole time, though when I moved, I could feel him tense a little, like now that it was actually starting to happen, he was suddenly nervous again. So I brought my hands around my back to grab his wrists, gently sliding them down over my ass as I pressed myself into him and nipped at his bottom lip.

"Mmm, your hands are so big," I purred as I kissed my way over his jaw. "They feel so good all over me..." He relaxed a bit at my reassurance, but I wanted to give him more. So I helped him slide his hands underneath my dress, feeling him shiver under me when I assisted him in squeezing them into my skin. "You can touch me however you like," I whispered into his ear. "I'm all yours, Doctor..."

He squeezed my ass then, of his own accord, and I hummed happily before kissing my way back to his mouth, running my hands through his hair.. "Just like that, baby, whatever you want..." He swallowed my words with his tongue, taking a deep breath and inhaling me like I was his only source of air. Respectfully, I gave it all to him, happy to be of service as long as he wanted me— and in that moment, I hoped it would be forever.

Maybe that was cheesy. But he was an excellent kisser... And I was sure there'd be something equally as excellent waiting for me once I got the clearance to get my hands down to his belt.

Thankfully, that clearance came pretty soon. I would have waited as long as he wanted to, but with the way his hips jolted upwards and the needy whine that erupted from his throat at the contact it provided, I knew now was the time.

So I smiled over his lips and then kissed his jaw again, one of my hands staying threaded in his hair while the other snaked down his chest and lower, undoing each button on his shirt as I went down... "Forgive me if I'm feeding into the stereotype by asking you this, Spencer," I said, leaving small bites on his neck in between words. "But have you ever done this before?"

His hands continued kneading my ass as he let out a shaky breath. "N—No. But I've um... I've p—practiced..."

"Hmm, how so?" I wondered, sucking a big hickey into his neck. Meanwhile my hand traced along the waistband of his pants, not quite dipping underneath but teasing the skin just above the material.

"U—Um, well... I regularly t—try to edge... myself, just... I—I want to last longer, and... And I thought it would help..."

God, the images of this man lounging in bed, training himself to last longer in the event that he had sex with someone? I groaned into his neck, taking the initiative to move my hand lower and gently palm him through his pants. "Fuck, that's so hot..."

"Re—really?"

"Mhmm... You really wanna make a girl feel good, huh?"

"Of course..."

"So eager to please?" I cooed, starting to undo his belt. He gripped my ass tighter like he was holding on for dear life, like he'd some how fall out of the car if he didn't hold on to me tight enough. The way his fingers dug into my skin brought me almost the same amount of joy as the sound he made when I finally snuck my hand down the front of his pants and pulled his dick out, gently stroking it and getting a feel for him. "Obedient?"

"Y—Yes, Y/N, please, oh God..." he jumbled out, his hips bucking into my hand. I sighed into his neck, kissing him again as my hand slowly jerked him off.

"Is this how slow you go?" I asked, making sure to memorize how every ridge of him caressed my hand. "Hmm, you wanna draw it out? Feel every ounce of pleasure as you possibly can before you come?"

He didn't answer so much as he let out a loud, whiny breath that sounded very much like a broken, "A-hh."

"I'm clean... On birth control, too... So what do you say we trade this hand in for something a little more... wet..."

Spencer grabbed my underwear then, pulling at the fabric and bucking his hips again. Taking it as a good sign, I adjusted myself so that I could slide them to the side and hover above him. Meanwhile I pecked at his lips and he did the same, meeting me with urgency and anticipation.

And when the head of his dick finally came in contact with my pussy, he threw his head back and exhaled, exposing his neck and the front of his chest, which was lightly glossed over with sweat already. The only source of light in the car came from the neon bar lights and one single streetlight outside, which gave us this dark, aesthetic lighting that only made what we were doing even hotter.

I sank slowly onto him, letting out the longest sigh of my life until he bottomed out in me. "You doin' alright, Doctor?" I asked, pulling his shirt open some more to get a better view of his skin.

He sat his head up a bit and looked at me, breathlessness in his eyes. "F—Fantastic. You f—eel so good..."

I ground my hips in slow circles, nodding down at him with a wicked grin. "Feeling's mutual, babe... You stretch me out so good... It's like we're a perfect match."

The moment I started lifting myself only to sit back down, Spencer shut his eyes, his hands roaming my ass and my thighs as I rode him. It looked like he was concentrating on lasting, and I was going to tell him not to worry about it, but then he opened his eyes and started to speak.

"Will, um... Will you be m—mean to me? Please?"

I halted my movements for a moment, taking in what he just said, but then it came to me immediately. And my discovery turned me on way more than I would have liked to admit.

So I grinned and circled my hips again, leaning forward to practically crawl up the front of his body. My hands tangled in his hair as I studied his face, which was ridden with worry and maybe regret at what he'd just confessed. But I kept circling my hips all the same, clenching myself around him as I spoke against his lips.

"Ohhh, did hearing me insult those guys in the bar turn you on?" I drawled, gently pecking his lips.

"Uh huh," he breathed in response.

I smiled, rocking my hips a little faster and feeling him start to relax again— The worries he had about his desires faded into nothing as I gave into them, feeding them with an open palm and embracing them with great pleasure. "I bet you just couldn't wait for me to take you outside and fuck you after that, huh? For me to treat you like a needy little slut..."

With every word and every quick rock of my hips, Spencer started to pick up his breathing. He leaned back completely and let me take care of him, gave me every green light, every go-ahead... I never got to be like this in bed before, and the fact that it came so naturally sparked this confidence within me that was hard to quell once it got going.

"Is that what you wanted?" I asked him, picking up my pace and bouncing steadily back on his dick. "You were so desperate to get fucked, too, you couldn't even make it out of the parking lot before you gave into me... And now everyone in the bar could see us out here..."

He groaned out at that, his hands digging into the flesh of my thigh, which already burned from straddling him like this, but considering everything, a little burn never hurt anyone.

"Ohh, you like that too, huh? The thought of everyone seeing us?"

"Y—Yes... Y/N, yes... o—oh, fu..."

I took his face into my hands then, grabbing him by the chin and making him look at me. "And what about your friends, huh? What would they think if they showed up and saw their precious Doctor Reid getting fucked like the dirty little slut he is, huh?"

Even though his face was in my hands, he still managed to lean his head back with a loud groan. His hands were now sliding over to my waist, where my dress was bunched up. His nimble fingers slipped just under the fabric and explored the planes of my stomach as I continued riding him, and the feeling of it all coupled with the looks on his face and his reaction—verbal or otherwise—to my words grew the fire simmering in the pit of my stomach.

I wasn't sure how mean to him I could be anymore now, though, considering we were both so close to finishing, and the closer I got the more it became harder to focus on stringing together the perfect words.

Still, I tried the best I could, because it was his first time, and it's what he deserved.

I leaned in and kissed his neck and collarbone, simultaneously riding and grinding for extra stimulation. "You're doing so well, Doctor... Taking this pussy like a good little whore..."

Okay, so it wasn't entirely mean, but it was the best I could come up with on the spot.

Though, it seemed to have done the trick, because Spencer drove his hips up to meet mine, panting and whining out my name as his eyes fluttered open and he looked at me with the most desperate look. I almost fell apart right there.

"That's it, baby, take it," I cooed, leaning over and kissing him. One of his hands came out from under my dress to rub tight circles into my clit with an expert thumb, and it started to break me down immediately. "Ohhh, I'm almost there, honey, just like that... Show me what a good little slut you are, baby, c'mon... Just like... that... Ohhh..."

I kissed him hard as I shook and clenched around him, holding still as he drilled his hips upwards into me. His thumb kept up at my clit until I was whimpering into his mouth, and then he just held it there, a few grunts of his own rumbling in his chest before he stilled and filled me with his warmth. I kissed him through it, gently swallowing all his whines and sighs as he gradually came down from his high.

Immediately after we both settled, with his dick still sheathed inside of me and my hands rubbing gently over the planes of his chest as we slowly and softly made out, the unmistakable sound of raindrops hitting glass covered us on all sides.

I pulled away from Spencer with a small smile, resting my head on his shoulder and looking off to the side, out the window at the sea of cars slowly getting covered up by a multitude of rain droplets. "I hope that was okay," I whispered against his skin, willing myself closer by draping an arm over his shoulder and using my hand to twirl some of his hair around my finger.

"That was more than okay," he responded contently. His chin rested on the top of my head and I snuggled closer into him. "Thank you, Y/N... For... For everything."

"It was my pleasure, Doctor."

We sat in comfortable near-silence for a while then, letting the rain tapping gently over the car be the steady sound that grounded us and washed away everything we had until there was a clean slate.

That was the one bad thing I found about the rain. I loved it, yes, for all its cleansing properties, and as I came into the bar tonight, I looked forward to them— to clearing my head with alcohol and a walk home in the rain.

But as I laid there, breathing in every ounce of Spencer Reid, I watched the rain roll down the windows and actually dreaded the moment it would stop.

"I wish it would rain forever," I sighed wistfully, playing with one of the buttons on Spencer's shirt.

He drew patterns into my leg all the same. "How come?"

"Because... I have to walk home. And the longer it rains, the longer I can stay here with you..."

He chuckled. "That's a nice sentiment, but you know I can drive you home, right?"

"Yeah, but... I really don't want this moment to end."

He was silent then, and for a while I thought maybe he was just going to leave it be. But then his soft voice broke through the rain and cut into me like a piece of glass. "You know you're gonna be okay, right?"

I broke away and looked up at him. "How do you mean?"

He sighed, thinking before continuing. "I mean... I'm guessing it's been rough since your husband left, and... being here with me has given you some companionship and comfort, but... Even after we part ways, you're going to be alright... It's still going to feel lonely, sure, but if there's anything I know for sure after tonight, it's that you're going to get through it just fine."

My heart swelled, though it still broke all the same. "How do you know?"

Spencer smiled, bringing a hand up to gently brush the side of my face. "Because you're my fiancée and I know you better than anyone."

As I laughed at the joke, he looked back at me with sparkles in his eyes. And then minutes later, I was haphazardly cleaning myself up in his passenger seat with a wet-nap that I'd kept tucked away in my wallet while he fumbled around for his keys.

Even as I stood on my porch that night, under the rain as I watched him drive away with the lingering buzz of our final goodbye kiss on my lips, I wondered if I'd ever see him again.

And I wondered if he would ever notice or do anything about the sparkly diamond ring I left behind, sitting beside him in my place— a reminder of our time together, the comfort he provided me with, and the clean slate that always inevitably came with the rain.

***

If you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist, feel free to message me or leave a comment and I’ll get to it!

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@elldell1204 @muffin-cup @calm-and-doctor @slutforthegubes @rainsong01 @yourmisosoup @liveloudwriteloud @reidsconverse @la-vie-en-amour1 @edgycowboy666 @averyhotchner @centiaaa @lizziechaseee @coffeeandendlesswords @usuck @spenxerslut @g0lden-cth @emilyprentisslittlewhore @reidyoulikeabook @spencerreid9 @takeyourleap-of-faith

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader smut #criminal minds fanfiction

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quack42069 · 4 years ago

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Safe Inside - Philza

Philza x Daughter! Reader

Safe Inside by James Arthur is the song inspiration!

Philza remembers when you and Tubbo first came into his life. Your father, Schlatt, was a good man. He always said that, and he loved you both, but his alcoholic intake was becoming far to unsafe for you children so Philza decided to take you and your brother under his wings. You were around ten, close to Wilbur and Techno’s age and Tubbo was around five or six, close to Tommy’s age. He remembers the day like it was yesterday.

[FLASHBACK]

“Dad! Please! Stop!” You yelled, holding Tubbo’s head into your chest, trying to not make him look at your father who was yelling at you both. His slurred speech was making it hard to tell what he was saying and Tubbo’s tears were soaking your shirt. Eventually, your father settled down, collapsing onto the couch with a bottle of whiskey in his hand. You went to the kitchen, shakily dialing Philza’s number. Your best friends, Techno and Wilbur had told you to call him in case you needed them or if you needed another adult. You never thought you had to use it. With Tubbo behind you grabbing onto your shirt, staring at your father on the couch you heard a ring and a “hello?”

When Phil heard your soft and scared voice he immediately went to your house. He told the boys to stay put in his house and when he finally reached your front step he saw you and Tubbo. You slouching tiredly and Tubbo asleep on your lap. You looked up at him, your dark and puffy eyes brighten a bit and his heart broke. He had to do something. He told you to pack everything you needed and what was important and you did. Packing two bags for you and two for Tubbo. You wrapped Tubbo in his yellow blanket as Phil and Schlatt argued in the living room. You handed him his bee your father had given him and kissed his forehead.

“Y/n, where are we going?” Tubbo asked, following you into the bathroom to grab your toothbrushes.

“We’re gonna go with Tommy for a while!” He smiled as you continued to grab more of the essentials you both needed.

“This is no place for children. Once you’re clean you can come and try to rekindle the relationship!” Phil yelled.

“Those are my kids! You can’t fucking take my kids! I love them to death!” Schlatt yelled, his voice cracking a bit.

“If you loved them you wouldn’t be doing this to them.” Phil said coldly. You walked out with Tubbo, holding his hand.

“Y/n baby. My beautiful girl. Stay with daddy. You wanna stay with daddy right?” Schlatt said, the alcohol hitting your face. Your lip quivered and you hugged him. You were always a daddy’s girl. Tubbo loved him as well but was a bit more disconnected from him. He hugged you back firmly.

“Y/n. We have to go, come on sissy! I wanna see Tommy!” Schlatt went to grab Tubbo and pull him into the hug.

“My beautiful babies. I’ll get better okay. I promise.” He said, his eyes watering.

“Come on guys, the sooner we leave the sooner you can see Techno, Tommy, and Wilbur.” Phil said grabbing the bags and grabbing both your hands. You cried and cried the whole way to his house. Even if you were little you knew that it was going to be a while until you see your dad again. At least you were with your brother.

[Flashback Over]

Phil shook his foot anxiously. He stood up once you stumbled in.

“Oh hey Phil! Sorry for um-” You giggled. You were intoxicated, that was obvious. His worry left his body and his anger got the best of him.

“Where the hell were you?” He yelled. You hiccuped slightly and shook your head.

“Nowhere. I’m going to bed.” You slurred, you tripped over your foot and Phil caught you quickly. He helped carry you into your room, before you ran to the bathroom, throwing up. Once you were done he placed you back in bed, he went to make a tea and grab a cold washcloth for you and when he came back you were sound asleep, soft snores coming from your mouth. He sighed and walked to you, he placed the washcloth on your head and moved your hair out of your face, he placed the tea down and started to wash off the makeup you had on. Once he was done he kissed your forehead.

“Goodnight daughter.” And with that he went to bed. He smiled as he remembered when you were younger, the way you would crawl into bed with him and sleep with him, it stopped once you turned fourteen. Then fifteen came and you got your first sip of alcohol and now it’s like he never sees you. He understood you were growing. All his kids were but he didn’t like the way you were following into your biological fathers footsteps. Is this how it is having a fifteen year old? Let alone a female fifteen year old? He never had experience and there were no other parents around. You were a bright girl, and he knew you were going to be okay. At least that’s what he hoped.

Once you hit eighteen that’s when you went to Phil and told him sorry, how you wanted to stop and how you were sorry for putting him through that. You didn’t want to be a dead beat like your father, and Tubbo had yelled at you so many times to stop drinking. It wasn’t until he said he wasn’t going to talk to you until you were sober that made you open your eyes. That’s when your life started changing. You became friends with many. Your best friend and your lover being Quackity. He had met Phil and Tubbo and Wilbur, Techno, and Tommy and they all deemed him perfect for you. He helped you with your sobriety and he loved you, and you loved him. Although he didn’t have much family, he did have his boss, ‘Big Man’ and asked if you would like to meet him. So you did, let’s just say it didn’t turn out the way you thought it would.

Masterlist

#jschlatt #schlatt #dadschlatt #philza #dadza minecraft #dadza philza #philza x reader #quackity x reader #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt x reader #tubbo

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leiawritesstories · 3 years ago

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No Swimsuits After Dark

Rowaelin Month, Day 14: Skinny dipping ;)))

Word count: 1264

Inspired by an actual sign on my relatives’ hot tub that says “No jumping, no diving, no swimsuits after dark.” Enjoy!

Warnings: language, implied sMuT, Fenrys Moonbeam

“Hell. No.”

“Hell yes!” Lysandra smirked. “Girl, you said you were up for anything. I repeat, truth or dare?”

Aelin sighed. “Remind me again why I got drunk enough to agree to this.”

Elide cocked her head at the red Solo cup in Aelin’s hand. “If that’s Lorcan’s punch…”

“Gods, you’re all horrible,” Aelin groaned. She took a long pull from the cup. “Fine, bitches. Dare.”

An evil grin spread across Lysandra’s face. “You know the sign on the hot tub?”

“Yeah.”

“And you know how it’s like 1 am? Meaning it’s definitely dark?”

“No shit, I’m not drunk enough to be confusing night for…shit. NO.”

“YES. Hot tub, ten minutes, and since it’s after dark…no swimsuit.” She and Elide toasted each other and broke into an uncontrollable fit of giggles.

Aelin glared at her two best friends. “I hate both of you.”

“Nah, you loooooooove us,” snickered Elide. “Now strip and dip!”

Lysandra spat out her drink. “Oh my gods, El, I’m stealing that phrase,” she wheezed.

“Go ahead,” Elide grinned. “Ae, you gonna grow a pair and go skinny dipping or will we have to throw you into the hot tub?”

Aelin drained the rest of her drink and stood, pulling off her shirt. “I’m going, I’m going. Jesus, you think I wouldn’t take a dare? I am pretty damn drunk.” She tugged off her shorts when she got to the hot tub on the other side of the patio, leaving her underclothes with them. Quickly, not wanting anyone else to see her nude ass, she clambered into the tub, sighing as the hot water hit her skin. She closed her eyes, deciding to enjoy her impromptu soak in the hot tub rather than spend the whole ten minutes worrying another of her drunk idiot friends would stumble over and goggle at her. After all, the hot tub was gated off from the rest of the patio, and even though she’d left the gate slightly ajar, she didn’t think anyone currently at her house would be sober enough to remember it existed.

Not three minutes later, the gate squeaked open.

And a distinctly male, distinctly slurred voice, choked out a “Fuck.”

When Lorcan had asked Rowan if he wanted to go to Aelin’s house that night, he’d accepted like he always did, looking forward to another one of his best friend’s casual “family drinking nights,” as she’d coined them.

Apparently this night was a joint girls’ and boys’ night, though, since Rowan had hardly got to say hello before Lorcan, Aedion, and Fenrys pulled him out to the fire pit for “bro time,” which meant shitloads of whiskey, too many shots, telling the stupidest jokes they knew until someone got hammered enough to laugh, and occasionally hearing drunk Lorcan moon over Elide. And, apparently, drunk dares.

He’d thought none of the wasted guys sitting around the fire pit could come up with anything worse than making Aedion steal the batteries from Aelin’s vibrator (a task that made Rowan blush red enough that he was glad for the cover of midnight darkness) until Fenrys aimed his empty bottle at him and slurred, “Go’shkin’dip.”

“The fuck, Moonbeam?”

“That translates to ‘Go skinny dipping in the hot tub,’ idiot,” Lorcan clarified.

“Oh hell no!”

“Oh hell yes! What, don’t have the balls to do ten minutes alone in the hot tub? Might sober your drunk ass up, Whitethorn,” drawled Aedion. “After all, there is a sign posted on the gate saying that you can’t wear a swimsuit after dark.”

“Fine. I’ll go fucking skinny dipping. And then you, Salvaterre, can shove that bottle up your ass and see how long it takes for Elide to notice.”

Grumbling to himself, Rowan made it to the hot tub gate, barely noticing that it was ajar, dropped his shorts, and shoved the gate open.

“Fuck.”

Already sitting in the hot tub, just as naked as him, was Aelin.

His hands immediately covered himself, lest she see what his…reaction to seeing her nude in her hot tub was.

Before he could back away, Aelin, her arms crossed over her chest, smirked at him.

“You joining the party, Whitethorn?”

He was in the hot tub seconds later.

Sitting on the opposite side from her very drunk best friend, Aelin wondered if Rowan knew she’d seen exactly what he was trying to hide from her when he all but jumped into the hot tub.

If she was maybe one shot drunker, she’d be the one jumping. But she had enough sobriety to tell herself that this was her best friend, no matter that she’s been madly in love with him for a long-ass time. Not to mention, she was drunk.

“Well…this is awkward.” Rowan finally broke the tense silence.

Aelin snorted. “Yeah. Part of me wonders if they set this up.”

“But everyone’s too wasted to have planned it.”

“Right.”

They were quiet for another moment, Rowan staring directly at her face, his eyes flickering with something Aelin didn’t want to name.

“Ro, if you’re going to check out my rack, at least don’t try to hide it.”

His eyes jerked back to hers. “Your what?”

“My boobs, Rowan. Or are you too drunk to notice I have them?”

Those dark, green eyes dragged a path down her chest, stopping where the water hit her ribs. “I have never not noticed how hot your rack is. How gorgeous you are.”

Aelin’s breath caught. “You--”

“I’m drunk, Ae. You’re drunk. And drunk people tell the truest truths.”

“Then in the spirit of truth-telling, I am so fucking impossibly in love with you.”

It was his turn to go speechless. That emotion flickered through his eyes again, tinged with a darker flame. “You going to do something about it?”

Her lips were on his before he could smirk.

By the time Aelin strolled back over to the cluster of chairs on the patio, Lorcan, Aedion, and Fenrys had joined the girls.

Elide, trying to hide that she was grinding in Lorcan’s lap, smirked at her. “That was a lot more than ten minutes, Ae.”

“Maybe I’m too drunk to tell time,” she grinned. “Much like you’re too drunk to be in public with your man.”

Rowan flopped down in one of the patio chairs. “Fuck, I need water. Ae, you got a water bottle?”

“Kitchen.”

“I can’t fucking remember where your kitchen is, Aelin.”

“And is that because you drank three whole bottles of shitty whiskey?”

“IT’S BECAUSE HE CAN’T REMEMBER ANYTHING EXCEPT YOUR--”

“Fen, if you finish that sentence, I will personally castrate and murder you, in that order,” Rowan growled.

Aelin whacked Fenrys upside the head with a water bottle. “Get out of my house, Moonbeam. You’re not getting hungover on my couch again.”

He opened his mouth, probably to make another raunchy comment, saw everyone’s expression, and stood, weaving on his feet. “Lorky, will you drive me home?”

Lorcan and Elide stood on each side of him and headed for their car, calling out goodbyes. Aelin watched them go, shaking her head.

Lysandra was smirking a smirk of pure evil delight. “Lorky.”

Aedion was wheezing.

Rowan just grinned at Aelin. “Are you kicking them out, or am I?”

“Hey, hey, we’re leaving, no need to get territorial. I wouldn’t stay the night for all the money in the world, knowing that I’d hear you two on the other side of the house.”

She and Aedion were off before Aelin could swat her.

Rowan tugged her into his lap. “Well, we’re alone now.”

“Mhmm.” And she fell asleep on his shoulder.

Rowan chuckled as he walked her inside, telling little Whitethorn to calm down, they’d have plenty of time tomorrow. And the day after that. And the rest of their lives.

#my writing #rowaelin month #day 14

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nadal-designer · 2 years ago

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jj-bxby · 5 years ago

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if the world was ending ~ jj maybank song fic ✨100 special✨

summary - song fic inspired by ‘if the world was ending’ by jp saxe and julia michaels

gif by @toesure

word count - 4.0k

warnings - mentions of abuse and anxiety, angst!!, fluff

It was impossible to sleep. Hurricane Maggie was the biggest that Kildare had seen in years, and it was horrifying. Looking at your boarded-up windows, you passed a hand through your hair anxiously. You turned your focus back to the flashing television with warnings in bright colors filling the entirety of the display. Exhaling shakily, you turned on your phone. No new messages were shown and the screen soon flashed its “No Signal” warning. Shit.

It had been months since you and JJ decided to break up, and ever since you two had been slowly drifting apart. Even though your separation was technically mutual, it wasn’t. Breaking up with the boy was the last thing you wanted to do, but he thought it was best for both of you. After a year of being together, he still had a difficult time telling you about the mottled bruises on his body that you knew weren’t from biking accidents, about the nightmares he’d have that woke him up at night, about the way he would flinch when you moved too quickly. After hours of tear-filled argument with JJ, you two spent your last night in the same bed, and he was out of your house the next day. Despite still being friendly with the pogues, you didn’t show up to their parties or lake days as much. Seeing JJ flirt with other girls, even if it was 50 yards away from you, still felt like a knife in your heart. And him locking eyes with you during it was just twisting the knife.

JJ wasn’t your JJ anymore. And you weren’t his Y/N. Even though you hadn’t spoken in weeks, you couldn’t think of anything but him when the sirens began blaring. JJ loved to surf the amazing waves that hurricanes would create, and you doubted that Maggie’s waves would be any different. It made your breath catch in your throat when you thought of him out drinking alone, him surfing the hurricane, or, God forbid, him being stuck in his house for the duration of the storm. You felt tears prick at your eyes, knowing that he didn’t have any reason to tell you where he was or that he was safe anymore. Everyone knew Maggie would do damage, especially on The Cut, and your home was right in the danger zone. You could have stayed at Kiara’s place, but you wouldn’t have felt any safer there than you would have at home, alone. Honestly, you couldn’t care less about what happened to your house. It was a house, it can be fixed up or replaced. You laid back down on your bed, closing your eyes as all of the most dangerous scenarios your brain could conjure up flashed behind your eyes. JJ being sucked under by the surge, your home collapsing on you, JJ caught in the exposed wiring, everything scared you. You had no right to him anymore. But goddamnit, the entire fucking island was in panic mode, why couldn’t he just tell you that he was okay? Tears spilled down your cheeks as you maneuvered to settle your body under the covers, the sound of rain pelting against all sides of your home echoing through the room. You could hear one of your windows shatter, and you shut your eyes tightly. You were trying to picture being anywhere else, and what you pictured was JJ’s arms around you, holding you tightly against him while he set his head on your shoulder. It felt shameful to think of JJ as your safe haven when you hadn’t been in his arms in months, but it was the only thing calming you enough to steady your breathing as you choked back sobs.

As much as you didn’t want to admit it, JJ still held your heart fully in his hands. And right now, he was squeezing it tighter and tighter, the hole in your chest growing larger by the minute. You had thought that whatever tether attached you to him would be cut once he left you that day, but it just kept pulling. It was tighter than ever now, and the feeling of it pulling your soul from your body grew stronger the longer you stayed away from him, and it was cruel. The feeling made the whole of your body ache — Your head hurt, your chest felt tight, your legs were weak, and your arms were vacant and they pulsed with pain. It was unbearable.

The throbbing in your head worsened as something was flung against your front door. You sat up as the noise came again, even though it startled you, you knew it was likely a tree that fell. You got up to pad down the hall to your open kitchen as sleep evaded you. Trying to flick the lights on was no use, there was no power. Sighing, you grabbed a bottle of water from the counter and cracked it open. There was no alcohol in your house, as much as you truly wanted some right now. You’d given up drinking after splitting with JJ. It would have been to easy to swallow down all of the hurt, and not feeling it would have only been worse. As you walked to your couch to grab a blanket, your door swung open. JJ was standing there, sopping wet. You could see that a mixture of tears and rain stained his cheeks, his red and swollen eyes giving him away.

“Y/N,” JJ whispered, shutting the door behind him. His blue eyes contrasted the redness starkly, and they pierced through me. “I don’t… I was gonna surf the hurricane but I know you would’ve never forgiven me,” he laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “And I just — I sat in my room and the only thing I could think of was if you were alone. I know you aren’t mine anymore, I know I fucked that up. But I couldn’t stand thinking of you staying here alone.”

You didn’t know what to say. You’d been wanting him back for six months, and now he shows up at your doorstep at two in the morning. In the middle of a hurricane. Dripping wet. You didn’t say anything, you just walked towards him and wrapped your arms around his waist, holding him against you while you buried your head in his chest. You half expected him to push you off of him, but instead, he rested his chin on the top of your head before dropping it down to your shoulders. His arms quickly looped around you to hold you just as tightly while hot tears rolled down his face.

“God, I’m so sorry, Y/N.” He said, in between his hiccups and sobs. He wasn’t drunk for once. He was just so tired of fucking up, and he couldn’t handle it anymore.

You’d never seen him like this. He never let you. But now, JJ was breaking down in your arms, and he was trusting you fully. You were the one holding his heart, and he didn’t want it back.

“Shh, J. You’re alright.” You told him, fighting back the tears that welled in your eyes. You pulled back from him just enough to look at his face. “You’re gonna be freezing if you stay in these clothes. You need a shower and something dry to wear, okay?” He nodded sluggishly. “Here, come with me.”

You led JJ to your room and had him wait as you dug around in your closet to find the box of clothes JJ had kept at your place for the nights he stayed over. You debated tossing them out when you found them a couple of weeks after he left, but couldn’t bring yourself to part with them. Instead, you would find yourself digging out his Kildare sweatshirt to wear when you missed him, and his gym shorts to sleep in when it was one of your sleepless nights. Eventually, the clothes lost his scent and stopped being something consolatory. Instead, they became a source of resentment, but no matter how many times you tried to convince yourself to throw them out, they always wound up right back in the corner of your closet. You walked out with the bin, placing it on the bed and rifling through it to find something warm for him, finally settling on sweatpants and a worn Kildare tee.

“I can’t believe you kept those. I always figured you would have burned them or something,” JJ mumbled as he walked up beside you.

“I thought about it,” you said plainly. “I was gonna have ‘Somebody That I Used To Know’ playing and everything.” JJ smiled slightly, knowing you were still half-serious. You tilted your head to look at him and sighed. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes red-rimmed and puffy, and he definitely smelled like malt. You sighed because you knew exactly how little you could trust him in the shower while drunk. Usually, after keggers, you and your boyfriend would shower together so that you could keep an eye on him, as you were usually the soberest between the two of you. You’d wash him as you dodged his kisses, giggling at how lovey he was. JJ had fallen before, the dumbass, so you didn’t want him in there alone, but being alone with him was also the last thing you wanted.

“JJ?” He hummed slightly, swaying. “You aren’t sober enough to shower by yourself are you?”

JJ’s eyes widened at you and his cheeks heated up. He shook his head, knowing damn well that he would fail a sobriety test before it even started. “I mean, I could probably do it or just go without—”

“Nope, you’re swaying just standing here, and you smell like a distillery, J. C’mon.” You start off to your bathroom while JJ trails closely behind. Once you’re in, you turn on the showerhead to let it warm up. You turn around to find JJ with his shirt already off and grabbing a towel from your cupboard, handing you one. “What’s this for?”

He looks at his outstretched arm with confusion. “Shower. We’re gonna shower, right?” He says to you, tilting his head. Goddamnit, he always was a cute drunk.

“J, you’re gonna shower, I’m gonna stay out here.”

“Oh. That’s right.” He sets your towel down on the ceramic of the sink. “So, like... are you gonna let me get undressed now?” You smiled to yourself at how flustered JJ was, and you knew it wasn’t just the booze in his system.

“We dated for a year, JJ, I’ve seen you naked plenty of times,” you say as you hopped up on the sink, dangling your legs off of the edge. You crossed your arms over your chest as the blonde nodded to you before he stripped down to only his boxers. As he walked to check the temperature of the shower you saw the bruises and scars that littered his back, sides, and chest, and you winced. He looked back at you, noticing the look on your face.

“Not used to seeing them anymore, I guess, huh?” He asked quietly. You shook your head at him, tearing your gaze away from the bruises to meet his eyes. “You sure you don’t wanna join me?”

You gulped, shifting your eyes off of him. Honestly, a large part of you wanted to follow him in there and have it be like it was months ago. The other part of you, though, still hurt just thinking of him and burned with rage at the thought of acting as though nothing had happened. “Don’t tempt me, Maybank,” you said quietly while averting your gaze. He nodded softly and pulled off his boxers before stepping in to take his shower. Setting your head in your hands, you exhaled harshly. You were trying to puff out all of your confusion and hurt, and inhaled confidence.

Before you realized what you were doing, you had stripped down to nothing and stepped inside of your shower to join JJ, making him jump slightly when he heard the curtains being pulled.

“Y/N you don’t have to do this, okay? What the hell are you doing?”

“Just let me be here with you JJ, alright? Just let me be happy for a minute. You at least owe me that,” you murmured, pushing his damp hair away from his eyes. The boy nodded at you, his eyes shining brightly as always.

“I owe you way more than that, actually.” You stared at him for a moment, taking in the sight you’d been dreaming of for the past hundred-and-some days. Once your eyes trailed back to meet JJ’s, you turned around to grab the soaps you kept on the shower shelf. Opening one up, you tell JJ to give him your hands before you pour some of the suds into his open palms.

“They haven’t changed since I left,” he says while lathering the soap on to himself. JJ would always use your shampoos and body washes when he stayed over, liking the sweet scent of your soaps rather than the sandalwood option you had purchased for him. You did get rid of that soap, it was about the only thing of his you could bring yourself to throw out. Probably because it wasn’t really his.

You nodded, also scrubbing some of the soap into your hair. He reached out to wipe away some of the suds that were making their way towards your eyes, and it made you grin. JJ dipped his head under the stream of water to wash away the bubbles in his hair before shaking it out. You two did a little swap of places so that you were able to do the same, rinsing the shampoo out before working conditioner into your hair, and twisting it up into a bun. Turning your head to look for the body wash, you see JJ has already grabbed it and poured some out onto a washcloth. He had that damned boyish look in his eye that he always used to have when the two of you were alone together.

Stepping behind you, JJ murmurs into your ear. “I know I owe you for a lot of shit things I did, but can I start with this?” He slid the soapy rag over your stomach, resting it there to wait for your response.

Your head was spinning, and you felt like you were the intoxicated one now. Without thinking, you nodded your head, relaxing your muscles as JJ smoothly moved the rag along the curves of your body. You rested your back against his chest lightly, enjoying the familiar feeling. You could feel JJ’s warm breath against your neck as he washed you, and the realization that this was the most intimate feeling you’d had in months slowly sunk in. You turned your head to look at JJ — He had his lip tucked between his teeth as his eyes shifted to your own. He knew that lip thing was always a turn on for you, even though he wasn’t doing it intentionally this time.

“You okay with this?” He asked with worried eyes, taking his hands off of you.

“Yes, yeah, I’m okay, J. I just missed this,” you sighed, passing a hand over your face. “I missed this more than I thought I did.” You looked away from him, wishing he didn’t move his hands away. “Look, I just don’t want to do this shit and then get hurt again, JJ. You know I loved you, I know you loved me, so why did you leave?”

“Y/N,” he said softly, tilting your head up to look at him. “You’re right, I loved you. I still do. But when I broke up with you, I did it because I was scared. I was scared I’d turn into my father, scared that I didn’t deserve you, scared I’d try and hide things from you like I do with my father,” JJ sighed. “I’m sorry I was so stupid, and I’m sorry that I hurt you. I thought I was doing it because I loved you, and I was saving you from myself. But I was just hurting you. I’m not Luke,” he said while shaking his head, “I won’t let myself be like him. I wouldn’t hurt you, I wouldn’t even think of it. I was running from you because I didn’t think I deserved you. I didn’t believe I deserved you loving me so damn much.” JJ had tears shining in his eyes that matched your own.

“JJ, I sat in my room for months crying over you. I was panicking that you’d be trapped with Luke tonight, I wanted to go find you. I was terrified when you didn’t even say that you were okay,” you whispered, tears tracking down your cheeks. “God, when you came through that door I didn’t know if I was angry or happy. I still love being in your arms, but it makes me so angry to be held by you. I still fucking love you, even though I tried not to.”

Tears slipped out from JJ’s red eyes as he ran his hands through his wet hair. “I still love you too, Y/N. I never stopped. I don’t expect you to take me back — hell, I'd be shocked if you did — but if you want to try again, I want to, too. I want to be better for you.”

You wiped at your eyes, not knowing which drops were from the shower, or which were from your salty tears. You didn’t want to be hurt again, but you knew your heart wouldn’t be whole again unless you were with JJ. You knew he wasn’t Luke. You knew because JJ kissed you sweetly, he talked to you lovingly anytime he got the chance, he held you when your mind was out of control, and he never got angry with you. Of course, you two had had your arguments — but you worked them out together, both of you listening to the other’s concerns and talking out solutions.

“Of course I want you back, JJ.” You shook your head at him and turned the shower off. “But we’re not going to be back at the same place we ended. I have to know I can trust you again. You know that, right?”

JJ nodded at you, sniffling quietly. “I can do that... I can do that, Y/N.” He followed you onto the tiled floor, standing as water dripped off of him with quiet thuds. While you wrapped a towel around yourself and grabbed the other JJ pulled on his sweatpants. You walked over to the boy and draped the towel around his shoulders as he thanked you. JJ gazed adoringly at you, enamored by everything about you. The curve of your lips, the way strands of your hair were pasted to your forehead, the flecks of different colors within your y/e/c irises. He loved the mundane things he could do with you, and he loved the fact that you didn’t step back from him even more.

You cocked your eyebrow at JJ when you notice his staring. His eyes were focused on your lips, and he dipped his head down to level with your own. Your heart fluttered rapidly as your lips met, and it felt like your heart would beat directly out of your chest. His hand slid to cup your cheek, and yours moved to his shoulders. The only thing that mattered to you was JJ’s mouth on yours, and the throbbing pain inside of your head and throughout your body was replaced with a floating feeling. No more pain, just the warmth of JJ’s body enveloping your own. The kiss was soft and effortless — hypnotic, even — and the connection of your lips was reforming the burned bridge that linked you. The sweet scent of your skin made JJ grin and the velvety feel of your skin against his rough fingertips felt familiar; It was everything that he’d been craving for the last few months.

As he swiped his tongue across your lip, you pulled back to rest your forehead against his. His eyes were glittering like ice, as always. The intimacy of the moment felt so perfect, you didn’t want to say anything to ruin it, but you hadn’t gotten any rest all night, and you doubt JJ had either. “JJ, let’s lay down, okay?”

He hummed to you, his grin not faltering. He knew nothing more than kissing would happen tonight, but the thought of just sleeping in the same bed as you made him fidgety. JJ played with the strings on his sweatpants as he waited for you to finish getting dressed, having pulled on his shirt in the meantime. When you called for him to come out to your room he grinned, seeing you sitting on your bed while wearing one of the old tee’s he had left for you. You patted the space on the bed next to you for JJ to lay down with you. Once he walked over and slid under the covers with you, you both laid on your sides to look at each other. You reached for his hand, his fingers lacing with yours as he inspected your small hand enveloped in his.

“You never took that ring off, either,” he mumbled. The cold metal of the ring pressed against your skin, the one with JJ’s initials engraved in it that he had given you for one of your small anniversaries. You saw his matching one on his finger, the black metal had your own initials carved in. You let your gaze fall back on his face, seeing for the first time how tired his eyes were and the darkness underneath them.

“It's weird to lay like this, isn't it?” You asked with a small laugh, dropping JJ’s hand as he cracked a smile and shook his head. He would have slept on a pile of rocks if it meant that he would be close to you. You jumped as the thunder cracked violently and lightning illuminated the room. JJ opened his arms and you crawled over to him, his arms encircling you to hold you against him. Resting your head against his heart, you felt JJ press his lips against your hair and a wave of warmth washed over the both of you.

“I remember just how much you hated storms. I know you could never sleep when they happened,” JJ mumbled to you while tilting his head back to look at your figure, completely relaxed against him in the darkness. You opted to set your chin on his chest to meet his eyes. “Are you glad I came tonight? Or do you hate me even more, now?”

Even in the shadow of midnight, you could still see the sparkle of JJ’s eyes and the outline of his angular cheeks. His eyes searched yours in the second of silence before your response. “I’m so incredibly happy you came, J.” You moved almost imperceptibly, positioning yourself so that your face was slightly above JJ’s while his hands shifted from their previous position down to lay on your hips. You slid your fingertips along his jaw and lowered your lips to meet his as your eyes fluttered closed. JJ kissed you delicately, his lips sliding like velvet against your own. Your hand slid to the back of his head to tangle itself into his golden locks, his lips parting as you did. Butterflies erupted in JJ’s stomach and heat rose to his cheeks — it felt like the first time you had ever kissed him, and his head was dizzy from desire. The two of you laid like that for hours, your mouths moving together carefully, both of you entranced by one another yet again.

Finally, with JJ’s hand locked in yours, your world has stopped crumbling beneath your feet.

~tagging some moots~

@starlightstarkey @starksweasleymain @softstarkey @drewswannabegirl @shawnssongs @hmspxgue @livinglikepogues @jjsredhat @jjsbxtch @jjsmaybcnk @topperthorntons @obx-direction-sos @aesthetic-lyss @jiaraendgame

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some-kindofgnome · 4 years ago

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Kinktober #3: Hallucinate: Mirio Togata

In which you and Mirio assume (incorrectly) that you’re way too wholesome for the campus bar.

Characters: Mirio Togata x f!Reader

Warnings: smut (18+ please!) nightclubs, aged up characters, mentions of drinking, mentions of breakups, tipsy dry humping, strong language.

Notes: Title inspired by this song. Feel free to rock out. Today’s prompt is “Thigh Riding”! As always, all characters depicted in this story are adults and, in this case, of the legal drinking age.

Additionally, if you liked this story, feel free to tell me what you think! I’m new to writing on Tumblr, so I’m open to all forms of commentary, suggestions, and feedback.

Ride on- and happy Kinktober!

Kinktober Masterlist

(edit: guess who’s an IDIOT and didn’t paste the whole story in? Updated....)

“I’m going to throw up.”

Those words ring alarm bells in your head that they might not have on a weeknight. Your best friend is one too many shots deep and the lights at this club flash so brightly, they’d nauseate anyone unfortunate enough to stare too long.

But you see the firmness of sobriety in her expression as you check her over. In fact, her gaze is turned entirely elsewhere. And then you realize what she’s spotted.

“Don’t look now,” she hisses, grabbing your shoulder before you can spin around. You haven’t been drinking quite so heavily as she has, but you’re far from subtlety. It doesn’t matter, anyway. You don’t need to look to see who it is. The only reason you’re here anyway is because she’s determined to “win” her breakup.

Whatever that means.

If it were up to you, you’d be spending your Saturday curled up back at the apartment, taking advantage of a night with the place to yourself by spending the whole thing with…

“Mirio,” you sigh, spotting his blonde head bobbing above the crowd as he sidles his way back toward the two of you. He agreed, the absolute angel, to come out with you tonight. And he’s been taking good care of you. Just like always.

He appears in full, popping out from behind a couple dancing as closely as you wish you were. You know this kind of place isn’t normally your thing, but he’s wearing this burgundy button-down and you think maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if you were here just the two of you.

He spots you and grins, and suddenly he’s your sweetheart again and you bet he’d catch you if you swooned right into his arms.

“Let’s see… ah, gin and tonic,” he mumbles, passing you the highball. Drinking these will always make you think of him now. On your first date you let him try your gin and tonic and he hated it so much he nearly choked. He’ll never understand your love of the obscenely strange-tasting drink.

But he buys them for you anyway.

“And vodka cranberry, hold the vodka,” he chuckles, passing a red-tinted glass full of ice over to your friend. She takes it, but she’s pouting.

“I said hold the cranberry,” she insists.

“Yeah… The bartender wasn’t so sure that was a good idea,” Mirio replies, and you can tell by the look in his eye that the bartender had nothing to do with it. You move close and grab his hand behind your backs, squeezing.

Smart move, you wish you could tell him. Unfortunately, you’re still not sober enough for subtlety and your friend rolls her eyes, pretending to gag into her cranberry juice.

“That’s it,” she quips. “I can’t take you two tonight. Don’t wait up, I’m not coming home if it’s gonna be alone.”

You call to her, but she’s cut through the crowd before you can even reach out. Like iron gates the crowd closes in around you, and the best you can do is turn back to your boyfriend. Luckily, he looks just as sheepish as you do.

“Don’t worry, baby,” you plead, throwing an arm around his neck. You know for a fact that your friend thinks the world of Mirio. But she was with her ex for a long time. And a breakup that nasty had turned her harsh and bitter. Maybe she wasn’t coping as well as she might have. You were ready to ride it out.

You just hoped Mirio wasn’t letting it get him down.

“My phone’s on,” you murmur in his ear, a silent promise that if she needs you you’ll be there, but there’s no reason to go after her tonight. She came here with one mission- and nothing is going to put that on hold. If you know your best friend, you can guess that much.

His hand slides into the small of your back out of sheer habit, but it sends a little shower of sparks up your spine. You haven’t forgotten how good he looks tonight, nor how good he smells now that you’re pulled so close.

“Wanna dance?” You push your lips against the tender spot between his jaw and his ear and he chuckles all deep and loving, the sound vibrating against your palm as you brace it against his solid chest.

“Might as well,” he rumbles and you shiver all over again. His hand slides from your back to your hip, the other one tracing up and down your side as you start to move your hips.

Suddenly he’s gone from golden retriever Mirio to incurable flirt Mirio, shooting you a smirk so devilish you know you’re going to hell. He grabs your hand and spins you, pulling your back flush against his front.

“Have I told you what that dress is doing to me?” He purrs, making you keen. You’re not even shy about it as you start to slowly rock back and forth, matching the thrumming bass around you. You love dancing close to him like this and based on the way his hands roam across your front, he does, too.

“Bad,” you scold playfully. The dark satin of your tight dress is starting to ride up your thighs, helped along by the path of his fingers as he traces his palm from your thigh to your ribcage.

“I mean it,” he groans, shifting a little behind you. He pushes one thigh forward, sliding his knee ever so slightly between yours. You can feel where this is going, but you’re of no mind to stop it. It wouldn’t be the first time you got a little frisky in public. And you’re far from alone, underneath the low-slung ceiling of this shitty college town club.

“You got any idea how pretty you are?” He presses.

“You do your best to remind me,” you mumble back. You can’t take facing away from him any longer and spin in his arms. You twine your fingers in his hair and pull him down to you. Hard. He lets out a low grunt as you kiss him harshly and his hands slide immediately to the curve of your ass.

Stinker.

It feels like you’re in a new relationship with him all over again, making out in the middle of the dance floor like this. You’re both tipsy- you can taste the whiskey ginger on his tongue- but you’re in love and you don’t give a damn who sees.

“Mirio,” you gasp, gripping tighter at his hair as his mouth escapes yours to trail down your jaw.

“So sweet for me, princess,” he mumbles.

“Baby,” you whimper, tighter this time. The ache between your legs refuses to be ignored, burning urgently with every breath he puffs along your skin.

He grabs you by the upper arm, taking you a few paces forward. You lose your sense of direction for a moment, but when you come back to yourself, you’re against the rough cement wall of the place. The cool grooves dig into your skin, but Mirio’s kissing you again before you have time to care.

This time it’s carnal- a bruising press of lips as his tongue licks forward like he could swallow you whole. One hand plants itself on the wall beside your head, the other holding your shoulders against the wall. You lean into it as best you can.

You love this.

He’s never been shy about loving on you in public, but you can tell that it’s the whiskey driving him this far forward. You’re too desperate and horny to care, though, and you twine your fingers in his golden hair one more time, combing your fingers lovingly through the gelled strands.

He doesn’t give you much time to adjust before that denim-clad thigh is pushing forward again, shoving itself between yours and pushing your dress even higher around your hips. You’re not sure who’s looking but you know it’s got to be somebody.

“Lemme take you home,” he mumbles against your lips.

“Can’t,” you choke, “c-can’t wait that long.”

You tilt your hips down against his thigh, firm and strong. He can bear your weight easily on it, but you keep your toes on the floor even as you start to rock yourself against his jeans. There’s something about the angle he’s holding you and the fabric between your bodies and the desperation of your arousal that’s catching you just right. And the familiar sensation hits you- you might actually cum if you keep this up.

He seems to catch on at the same time, pulling his face back a fraction of an inch with an expression of thrilled shock settling into it. He barely hesitates an instant before he’s on board, though, pushing his knee higher and ducking his head into your neck.

He attacks the skin there, licking, sucking and nibbling away at the spot where he knows you’re sensitive. That sends fresh shivers through your body that rattle down your spine and land with a splash in the pit of your stomach, shooting more pleasure between your legs where you’re unapologetically grinding your clit against his thigh.

Whatever insignificant scrap of underwear you picked out tonight isn’t doing much to keep you covered and you’re sure you’ll be mortified when you inevitably leave a spot on his jeans but you’re both too wrapped up in each other to care much now.

“Miri-“ you start to groan. That all-too-familiar wave of pleasure has started to build, and you’re chasing it like your life depends on it. You grab for his shirt, forcing him against you with a jerk.

“Are you gonna cum for me right here, princess?”

That’s a blow you’re not ready to withstand. Instead of answering him, your peak hits you hard and fast. You seize in his arms, your fists crushing the fabric of his shirt as you whine into his ear and come, high and shallow against his thigh.

You come back to yourself slowly, sagging against the wall as he peppers kisses along your collarbone. He carefully lets you down- one foot at a time, holding you by the hips to make sure your legs don’t give out.

“Y’okay?”

You tilt your chin up to look at him, breathless and flushed. On some level, you can’t believe that just happened. But one look at the glint in his eyes and you’re not so shocked anymore. Your man has a dirty side, and you’re the only one who gets to see it.

“I just came on your jeans,” you pant, making him chuckle.

“So that wasn’t a fever dream?” He’s teasing you, nuzzling the tender spot on your neck where you know he’s left a mark. You might have cared, if you weren’t in so deep with him already. Hook, line and sinker. You don’t care who sees.

Probably a good mental state to occupy, when half the club just saw you dry-humping each other against the wall.

“Can we go home yet?” You mumble. You’re hazy and pliable now, sleepy and weighty and ready for bed. Or, at the very least, to be alone with your boyfriend.

“Yeah,” he replies, taking a softer, tender tone with you. You reach up and touch his cheek, stroking your fingertips lovingly along the angle of his jaw. You really do love him. More than you ought to, at this point in your relationship.

But he smiles down at you, and you see the same feeling reflected in his gaze. He bends his head and captures your lips- soft, almost chaste, if you weren’t still basking in the afterglow- then nuzzles his nose against yours.

“Yeah, I think we can.”

#my hero academia #mirio x reader #kinktober #jbbkinktober2020 #mirio togata #kinktober 2020 #mirio togata x reader #lemillion #mirio fanfiction #mha fanfiction #mirio x you #gnomewrites

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justallamaimaginingthings · 4 years ago

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Angel {Klaus Hargreeves x Reader}

A/n: I SWEAR this started with the pure intention of fluffiness. My hand slipped, I guess *wink*. Btw, even though this is the original version, I’d be more than happy to change it up a little so it can become gender neutral or about a male reader if anyone’s interested, so don’t hesitate to message me about it. Enjoy 💘💘

Warnings: Slight smut

Words: 1990ish II TUA Masterlist

Walking down the street, Y/n couldn’t help leaning closer to Klaus so that their shoulders were touching as he placed and arm around her waist, enjoying the feeling of finally having her by his side. After a whole year without any sign of her or anyone else, he had almost given up all hope of ever seeing her again, unaware that for the first time life was on his side. And here they were, walking together back to the place Klaus had come to call home.

"So is your cult going to be there?" She asked teasingly making him roll his eyes at her.

"For the last time, it's not that much of a cult really, more of a spiritual community" He defended himself but still he was unable to hold back a chuckle upon seeing the incredulous look she was giving him.

"Allison said it's a cult and I believe her" She insisted

"You'd take Allison's word over mine? I'm hurt, love" He replied, making an exaggerated motion of placing a hand over his heart like he was in physical pain. If there was one word she could use to describe Klaus that was extra. However, she had come to love his quirky, overly dramatic reactions just as much as she loved him and she simply adored teasing him. No matter how much he pretended to be annoyed, Klaus wouldn’t change their little fake fights for the world. Every time he made her laugh he could feel his chest swelling with pride and her smile was all the reward he needed, making his heart skip a bit and his heart flood with affection.

To say she had missed her would be an understatement. There hadn’t been a single day during the last three years that he hadn’t thought about her. Mornings were the worst and everyday he'd find himself instinctively reach for her across the bed only to be met by empty sheets as the weight on his chest returned to crush him. Sometimes he would dream of her, dream of holding her and kissing her senseless or making love to her until dawn before they fell asleep in each other's arms. Those mornings it became even more difficult for him to carry on, sobriety only adding to his struggles, but somehow he managed to pull through and it was worth it.

"What if I find a way to make it up to you later?" She asked in a suggestive tone as she turned around so that she stood right in front of him, right before lacing her hands around his shoulders. Her fingers found his curly locks and gently brushed through them, eliciting a satisfied hum from his lips. He wrapped both arms around her waist, pulling her closer as his grip on her tightened, the thought about what was to follow already having an effect on him.

"I'm really offended, I doubt there's any way to get passed that" He played along but the breathlessness of his tone gave him away. She smirked at him right before checking around for other passengers, but luckily the small street was completely empty and the last rays of sunshine left little to no light to reach the alley. She took a step forward causing him to move backwards until he was leaning against the wall and pulling her with him.

The moment her lips made contact with his jaw, he knew he was done for. She started leaving soft kisses that turned more intense as she made her way down the column of his neck, gently nipping and sucking on the sensitive skin. Klaus tried -and failed- to hold back a moan when she gently bit down on his collarbone and she smirked, loving the way his body seemed to respond even to the lightest touch. Leaning back to look at him, her breath caught in her throat. He looked positively wrecked, face flushed, pupils dilated and lips parted in desire.

"I'll think of something" She whispered and he could feel her lips brush against his, sending a shiver down his spine. The loose shirt he was wearing allowed her fingers to roam around his chest while his hands moved from her waist to the small of her back and ended up gripping her hips so tightly it would leave a bruise. He leaned in for another kiss, channeling all his feelings into it and it was her turn to sigh when he licked her bottom lip as if asking for permission which she happily granted. He tangled his hand in her hair as their tongues fought for dominance. Slowly, her hand made its way down to the front of his pants, palming his straining erection.

"Love, if you keep this up we won’t make it back home" He whispered hoarsely wrapping his hand around her wrist. Truth was it would be far from the first time they'd get it on in a public space and both of them clearly enjoyed the thrill of perhaps getting caught, but that time was different. They had gotten back together two days ago, after spending three years apart. Klaus wanted to show her just how much he'd missed her during that time and a quickie in a dark alley was no way to do that, no matter how bad he wanted her. He didn’t have to say another word; she could tell what he was thinking from the look her was giving her.

Instead of replying, she placed a soft kiss on his lips before taking hold of his hand and lacing their fingers together. "Lead the way, then" She told him, an affectionate smile gracing her features and for yet another time Klaus wondered how he had gotten so lucky. He had to put on an effort not to get carried away once again, before he pushed himself off the wall and continued walking. They made their way towards the mansion, exchanging funny stories from the time they spent away from each other and laughing. By the time they reached their destination, the sun had set and night had fallen.

"Welcome home" Klaus declared as they turned down the last corner. Her eyes blew wide in surprise caused by the awe inspiring sight in front of her. The large garden was filled with all types of lanterns and lamps making it look almost magical, while a crowd of people, the cult's members she assumed, was marching around doing this and that. In the centre of the garden laid a huge white building accompanied by what appeared to be an equally huge pool.

"You live here?" She exclaimed turning to look at Klaus who couldn’t hide his amusement at her shocked reaction. "How??"

"Well, you know… Dicks, drugs, debutantes, my holy trinity" He replied casually making her laugh and playfully hit his arm.

"It’s beautiful" She noted in a more serious tone.

"Yeah" He agreed and if she wasn't so preoccupied by her surroundings, she would have noticed him staring at her with an expression of pure admiration. The way the light hit her face made her features pop out and he could easily lose himself in her sparkling eyes. He was about to say something when a group of his followers who were passing right in front of them suddenly stopped having seemingly frozen on their tracks. They looked at her with a shocked expression before falling on their knees and bowing down. It even took Klaus a moment to realize what was happening while the cult members spoke in one voice.

"But what is the use of trying when all you get is pain? When I wanted sunshine, I got rain and then I saw her face. Now I'm a believer without a trace of doubt in my mind" They chanted and she swore she had heard those words before. Realizing they were all looking at her in complete awe and a little bit of fear she turned to him for explanation.

"Klaus, I didn’t expect to say that in my life but why is your cult reciting Smash Mouth at me?" She asked with visible confusion.

"Yeah, well you see…" He tumbled over his words, avoiding looking at her as if he was embarrassed by what was going on "I may have told them you’re an angel send from heaven" He said in one breath, thankful for the fact that the poor lighting helped cover his blushing face.

"They think I'm a what now?" She repeated, thinking she must have heard something wrong, even though with Klaus nothing was too farfetched.

"An angel" He repeated quietly. She didn't have enough time to react to this revelation because a member of the group hesitantly spoke up.

"Prophet does the arrival of heaven's angel mean the apocalypse is prevented?" A bald man around his 30s asked in a small voice, afraid to interrupt the conversation of what he believed were two god blessed celestial beings.

"What?" Both Y/n and Klaus asked at the same time, almost having forgotten they were in the presence of others.

"Will we be brought eternal peace?"

"Is this the end of all wars?"

"Can you give us some advice from heavens?"

Questions kept flowing and soon the voices all blended together in an incomprehensible noise. Klaus took her hand and started running towards his room in a futile attempt to escape the increasingly large crowd only for it to chase them down the garden. When they reached the door, he shot her a helpless look and she couldn’t help rolling her eyes at him and the mess he had created.

"I'm sure you all have many questions, but the Prophet needs to medicate before he can bring you the enlightenment you seek" She said in the best authoritative voice she could muster, surprised by the fact that by the time she was done talking the crowd had already started to disperse seemingly having listened to her.

Turning around, she followed Klaus into the room, closing the door behind her so that the two of them could actually get some much needed privacy. She was about to ask him how he managed to control all those people, but didn’t even have a chance to talk because by the moment the door was shut close he had pushed her against the wall and captured her lips in a sweet passionate kiss. His thumb softly caressed her cheekbone and she melted under his touch. The way his lips moved against hers, drinking her in as if she's air and he's drowning, was enough to drive her crazy and a whine of complaint escaped her when he pulled away much too soon for her liking.

"Now, now love, I believe some making up was promised" He said in a husky tone that made her heart skip a bit. There were no words to describe how much he had missed her or how deep his affections ran but frankly he didn’t have to talk. He could just show her and show her he did. The two lovers spent the rest of the night under the sheets, making up for the lost time while the room filled with the sound of moans and muffled whispers. The morning found them curled up in each other's arms, exchanging loving words and soft caresses and for the first time in a long while everything was okay.

#tua #tua klaus #tua x reader #tua x you #tua imagine #the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy imagine #the umbrella academy x reader #klaus hargreeves #klaus hargreeves x reader #klaus hargreeves x you #klaus hargreeves imagine

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