#To be fair this one's got a slightly longer time frame but I tried to keep it ~about~ the usual four months

[nelle-y]

You kept me like a secret, but I kept you like an oath

Synopsis: trying to spend time with your boyfriend while keeping your relationship private… or a secret…

Content: Alhaitham x fem!reader, low-profile/secret relationship, angst no comfort, writer!reader,

Warnings: slightly toxic if you squint, guilt-tripping, neglect, arguing, long intro (it gets good i promise), cursing, not proofread

Note: (Title from Taylor Swift’s ‘All Too Well (10 Minute Version) (Taylor’s Version)’) I tried to make this as in-character as possible while trying to convey the conflict of the plot so please let me know if there are any inaccuracies

—

The walls of Lambad’s tavern grew dim as the sun set; you, Tighnari, and Kaveh sat at a table having a little get-together. It didn’t feel complete, though, because two members of the group have yet to arrive. Cyno said he would be late due to an interrogation he has to do. And Alhaitham… he didn’t really give a notice but you all figured he was busy, being the acting grand sage and all that.

After a 30-minute rant about Kaveh’s clients, you talked about writing a new novel but you had no idea how to start it.

“Questions are overrated,” said Kaveh as he downed his drink, “I suggest you start with an at-large murder suspect being chased down by government officials—not guardes or the millelith, literal government officials.”

“You could ask Cyno for inspiration,” Tighnari suggests. You consider the idea but you figured Cyno wouldn’t have the time. “Or you could ask Alhaitham. I remember he has some experience in that field too.”

“Ah, yes,” you reply meekly. “I had forgotten.”

Hearing Alhaitham’s name felt like a stab to the heart, a curse laid upon you. You weren’t sure if it was out of love or suffering. After two years of dating, not a single soul knew about the two of you. As you asked yourself why that is, you give yourself an excuse that he simply wasn’t ready to be out. That he wanted you to make a name for yourself in case people would only remember you as the acting grand sage’s partner and not your rightful title as a writer.

When he first introduced the idea of keeping your relationship low-profile, you thought nothing of it. You knew he had no ill-intentions with the situation, so you agreed. But you thought the coast would be clear 6 months into the relationship.

During that time, the only signs of affection you got from him were when he was seldom tired from work and came home to you, longing for your warmth and drowning you with the most beautifully crafted compliments you could only dream of hearing. It was the side of him only you got to see. It was almost an honor being able to witness such greatness, all the while feeling like a goddess, worshipped and gratified by the gift of your presence.

Nowadays, you no longer felt like a deity worth praying to; that side of him became rarer than it already was.

The times when you were together—together being with the rest of your friends—you would always try to make some sort of contact with him just to feel the thrill of love your heart was aching to have, only for him to starve you of it and leave.

You felt alone, neglected, desperate, nonexistent, like a forgotten dream worth pursuing.

Everytime you thought of leaving, frames and fragments of his flattering psalms and echoing touch seemed worth the mind-numbing pain you’re going through. You’re the only one for me, he’d say. I don’t know what I did to deserve you. He would gaze upon you like you were a full moon, and you would embrace him like he was the sun.

But basking under the sun is bound to get you burned.

About an hour later, already midnight, Cyno had already arrived but Alhaitham was nowhere to be seen. Kaveh has had too many drinks and is now drunk to the core. And with the hopes of seeing Alhaitham’s face for once, you drank your fair share too. Your cheeks glowed with a drunken flush, a fire setting aflame to your frozen heart. Something he could never do.

“Looks like the acting grand sage will not be joining us,” Cyno pointed out.

A guffaw escaped from your throat, “What is there to even expect, Alhaitham has been busy since that damned Azar did… something.”

You can’t think clearly. The laugh you let out almost sounded like a sob, and to be honest, you were on the verge of crying. You were just tired. You needed the warmth only the love of your life could provide.

Then out of the blue, the voice you longed for an eternity echoed through the tavern, tired and monotonous. “Apologies for my utmost tardiness, there were some issues at the akademiya I needed to handle.”

Alhaitham.

Your stomach hurt all of the sudden. You watched as he walked to the seat opposite of you. Shouldn’t you be happy now? You were just about to break down because he wasn’t here. Now that he is, you should be content and watch your boyfriend from afar. But all you could feel was betrayal, the blank agony of despair, the cruel sting of rejection.

He failed to notice the tears that glossed your eyes, assuming it was the reflection of the light. Your gaze pierced his soul with desperation, begging for him to console you and just… do whatever. You were asking for even a squeak, a sliver of concern, the bare minimum.

“Tighnari, how is Collei doing with her studies?” Like he had a shield for your painful daggers, he didn’t even glance at your direction. Disappointment filled you like a glass of wine. You should be used to this by now—the overwhelming weight when he avoided your leg, another desperate cry you needed him to hear.

Tighnari shared Collei’s progress after seeing that you were okay. As much as you were proud of her, you prayed to every archon not to let her be in your situation. Your heart shreds for the other person, it screams his name like a priest in worship, and all that for naught.

The group laughed at something, you weren’t listening all that much. You just felt… empty.

Kaveh’s voice called your name, “Isn’t that right, Y/N?” The group turns to you, who was dazed and distracted. The architect immediately noticed this. He patted your cold hand, “Y/N?”

“Hm? Ah, yes. Yeah, sure.”

Alhaitham laughed, “You seem distracted tonight, Y/N. If you’re looking to write for the akademiya, that kind of attitude will not be tolerated.”

Somehow you got defensive. Was it Alhaitham’s obliviousness? The way he made it seem like you were aloof? His laugh that mocked you in your desolate state? Maybe it was all of the above. Whatever it was, it made you snap.

“Ah, Alhaitham, akademiya this, akademiya that—there are more things to life than work, you know.” Your voice covered up your attacks as simple friendly banter. You’ve gotten good at sucking up your anxieties and steadying your voice all thanks to him. Now you can cover yourself up real nice when you commit a crime. You have a knife in mind, and you’re ready to kill. “Like, I don’t know, a partner, per say.”

Stab.

The grand sage scoffed, “You know very well I don’t have time for such trivial things.” His muscles flex as he crossed his arms. So these were the words he chose to say to you, after centuries of broken promises and empty plates.

“Maybe you would if you actually made the time for one.”

Stab.

“You are aware that you just ignored what I just said, right? Are you even listening?”

Stab.

“Oh, I’ve been listening. For the past two years, I’ve been listening my butt out for you.” It was scarring how unbothered Alhaitham was; you wanted to scream at him. The tightening of your chest, the prickling of tears behind your eyes, the weight of despair settling in your stomach, could he see what you’re going through? “Now, all I ask is a little bit of sympathy because I have been suffering all alone, waking up to an empty bed, not even a-“

“Y/N, what are you talking about?” Alhaitham interrupted you, somewhat panicked. You didn’t realize how loud you were being, up from your seat with your palm stinging from how hard it hit the table. “You know, if you’re having boy problems, you don’t have to take it out on me. It’s not like I’m your boyfriend.”

Right then and there, your world began crashing down. “Alhaitham,” Cyno muttered disapprovingly, making Alhaitham realize how rude he sounded. The tavern’s customers hushed to listen to your table. You hadn’t realized there were so many people.

Without even looking around, you could feel their eyes on you, whispers riddled with scandal.

“They’re being so loud.”

“Has she no shame?”

“In the presence of Acting Grand Sage Alhaitham, too.”

“Look, the general mahamatra is there; she really needs to watch herself.”

The embarrassment, the anger; it all fuelled you with a feeling you could not explain. No metaphor could capture the entirety of the wickedness of a man. How come he gets to sit there with everyone’s respect while you grovel in your puddle of tears? How come he’s having the time of his life while you’re burning in hell?

“You’re right,” you began, eyes dulled and void of life—of love, “You’re not. Okay, that’s all the liquor I can handle, guys. I think I’ll be heading home now.”

“Y/N,” Kaveh called, standing from his seat to escort you on your way out.

“I can walk myself, Kaveh.” You grabbed your things and took a sip of water. “Acting Grand Sage, humblest apologies.” Once again, you looked at him with utmost disappointment before leaving the tavern and heading home.

—

I am adrift in a sea of longing, drowning in the silence of his absence, clutching to memories like driftwood in a storm-tossed ocean. Yet still, I cling to the fading embers of our love, fearing the darkness that awaits should I let them fade to ash.

Hours after you returned home, sleep had not been your friend. As much as it would be typical, you cried until your eyes stung. It was now 4am, the time Alhaitham usually wakes up. Lost in your never-ending, ever-agonizing thoughts, you stared blankly at the dining room, wondering if he will finally recognize his mistakes, how much pain you’ve been in.

The knob of your front door twisted open, and surprise, surprise, it was Alhaitham who entered your apartment. “What the FUCK was that, Y/N?” He was not one to raise his voice like that, or even curse.

“Of all the nights I was available, this was when and how you choose to talk to me?” Your voice was the opposite—calm, sad, empty.

“Do you realize you nearly told everyone about our relationship?” He spotted a notebook on your crossed lap and grabbed it. “What’s that, ‘I am adrift in a sea of..’ what? Y/N, is there something you’re not telling me?”

“You specialized in languages, Alhaitham, you’ll figure it out.”

The man scoffed, “I’m not a mind reader, Y/N, if you could stop being immature-“

“You’re calling me immature? Okay, what about you keeping our two-year relationship a fucking secret?” The both of you continued raising your voices at each other. If people in the tavern hadn’t already spread rumors, this will surely start them. “Just tell me you’re ashamed of me, Alhaitham!” Then the man fell silent. Serves him right. “Tell me you don’t love me, so you can have a concrete reason to leave!”

“You know being the acting grand sage was never an easy task. The Fatui and other rebelling organizations have me as their number one target, and they are more than willing to hurt anyone to get their way! I was keeping us a secret to protect you! Seeing you getting hurt would mean the end of the world.”

“Getting hurt?” You scoff, “If you never wanted me to get hurt, you’re doing a terrible fucking job. I had to sit through multiple tables with empty seats because you were never home. Do you know how embarrassing that is for myself? I had to tolerate every ounce of contact you avoided because ‘someone might see us.’ In case you couldn’t get how much pain I’m in, let me sum it up for you—IT HURTS MORE THAN DEATH, ALHAITHAM!”

As the last echoes of your argument faded into the silence of the empty apartment, it felt as though the very foundations of your world was crumbling around them. Each word spoken was like a dagger to the heart, tearing apart the fragile bonds of love that had once held you together.

Every word you said stung his chest, the last part beating him to a pulp. It was too late for regret to cross his mind. “I really did love you, Alhaitham, more than anything.”

Those words… he hadn’t heard them in what felt like eternity. All he wanted to do was melt into your arms and apologize endlessly for all his wrongdoings, the times he barely came home, the mornings he could’ve spent with you. He’s been feeling this way for what feels like centuries. If he opened his arms to you, would you still embrace him? Would you still forgive him?

“But I can’t keep giving myself excuses to tolerate all of this.”

He looked at you, your eyes that were once so full of light now dimming of any source. The desperation, the longing you both share. There was so much sadness in your eyes. Have you always looked at him that way? Alhaitham was always quick on his feet—he had to find a way to convince you to stay!

“Y/N,” he began, “We can’t just give up on everything we’ve been through. All the dates, anniversaries, everything we took our time to make—it will all be a waste if we give up now.”

“I think you gave up on us the first time you dropped my hand when I reached for you.”

You were slowly slipping from his grasp, from his future. “I’m willing to give you all the time you need. Every meal, every date, every word you desire, I will make time for all of it. I promise you.”

“How can I know this will be another empty promise? How will I know you won’t do this again? You were never the type to offer everything so helplessly, Alhaitham.”

“Y/N, can’t you see-“

“Where were you during my sleepless nights? Where were you when I had prepared the perfect dinner for us? Where were you when I stood in the middle of the park, waiting for a certain someone to show up?

You were never there, Alhaitham. But I forgave you for all of that. I gave you a million last chances.”

A million last chances… you were thinking of leaving him beforehand? When he couldn’t seem to move his mouth, you decided you’ve had enough.

“Please, leave.”

It was too late for him now. He was long gone from saving you, from saving this relationship. There was nothing left to say, or do.

In the dim light of dawn, you both stood alone, tears a silent testament to the shattered dreams and broken promises that littered the floor like shards of glass. And as you watched your former lover walk away, a part of you knew that the wounds inflicted that night would never fully heal, leaving behind nothing but the bitter taste of regret and the haunting echo of what could have been.

(A lot of you guys are having trouble with the link😭 anw I tried copying a new link of part 2, lmk if it works)

[hunkpossession0]

From Park to Penthouse: My Life as a Bear Hunk

I was just a regular guy, trying to make ends meet and get through life. My days consisted of the usual routine: wake up, work a mundane job, come home, rinse, and repeat. Nothing exciting ever really happened to me. But all of that changed on a cool, crisp morning in the park.

I usually took early morning walks just to clear my mind. The park was quiet at that time, the only sounds being birds chirping and the occasional jogger’s footsteps echoing through the trees. That’s when I saw him—*the* guy everyone always seemed to notice, the bear hunk who owned the park every time he stepped foot in it.

He was the kind of guy who commanded attention without even trying. Tall, broad-shouldered, with a perfect layer of muscle covering every inch of his frame. His chest and arms bulged as he did his push-ups effortlessly, and even his sweat seemed to gleam like it had a purpose. His beard was thick, well-groomed, and his face was one of those ruggedly handsome ones you’d expect to see in some magazine cover.

I envied him—his body, his confidence, the way people looked at him with a mix of admiration and lust. It wasn’t fair. Why did he get to live such a charmed life while I was stuck being an average nobody?

As I walked closer, I saw something strange lying near a bench—an old, weathered medallion with strange symbols carved into it. It looked ancient, almost mystical. I don’t know what compelled me to pick it up, but as soon as I did, I felt a surge of energy pulse through my body. It was like electricity, but not painful—more like a powerful vibration that filled every cell in my body.

Then, without warning, everything went black.

---

When I opened my eyes, I was lying on the grass, staring up at the sky. I sat up, feeling oddly different. My body felt... heavier, stronger. I looked down and nearly jumped out of my skin. My once-skinny arms were now thick and muscular, covered in a light dusting of hair. My clothes were straining against my newly massive frame.

I reached up to feel my face, and instead of the usual smoothness, my hand met a thick, rugged beard. I scrambled to my feet, stumbling slightly as I tried to adjust to the new weight and power in my legs. I caught a glimpse of my reflection in a nearby pond, and my breath caught in my throat.

I was *him*. The bear hunk.

Somehow, that medallion had switched our bodies. I was no longer the average guy who blended into the background. I was the man everyone noticed—the man everyone *wanted*.

---

It took a few days to get used to my new life, but I quickly adapted. As it turned out, the bear hunk wasn’t just a regular gym-goer; he was wealthy beyond belief. His penthouse apartment overlooked the city, and his wardrobe was filled with designer clothes that clung perfectly to my new body. Everywhere I went, people stared, admired, and envied me.

But I wasn’t satisfied with just looking good and being rich. I had a new plan—one that involved indulging in all the pleasures that my new life had to offer. I booked a luxurious vacation to a private resort, a place where the elite went to unwind and let loose. And, of course, where the hot twinks flocked to for a chance at living the good life, even if just for a weekend.

The resort was everything I could have hoped for. The sun was warm, the drinks were cold, and the pool was filled with gorgeous guys who couldn’t take their eyes off me. I’d catch their stares as I lounged by the water, flexing my muscles just enough to make them bite their lips in desire.

At night, the real fun began. The clubs were filled with twinks looking for someone just like me—someone who could take control and show them a good time. And I was more than happy to oblige. I could see the way their eyes lit up when I approached them, how they practically melted under my touch.

This was the life I’d always wanted, the life I deserved. No more being overlooked or ignored. Now, I was the one in control, the one who got to choose.

The medallion was now a distant memory, tucked away in the back of a drawer in my penthouse. I had no intention of going back to my old life. This was who I was now, and I wasn’t about to give it up. Not when there were so many more adventures to be had, so many more twinks to seduce.

As I stood on the beach, looking out at the endless ocean, I couldn’t help but smile. Life as a bear hunk was everything I had dreamed of and more. And it was just getting started.

[cybercl0ne]

not sure if u do requests but I found ur blog recently and have been OBSESSED. I was thinking if you could do an arrange marriage fic for aizawa. I would absolutely DIE if u did. It can be any AU i wont mind since whatever u write will be amazing! I know it 💗💗💗

Will do! I love you so much. I wrote this trying to best fit my other pieces of work, so I hope you like it and I'm sorry I took so long to reply but I'm here now *plays graceful music*

Summary: Your father sells you to a man that knows you from UA.

F/M (she/her)

A/N at the bottom!!!!

TW: Abuse, mentions of Abuse, Fathers a massive dick (again), massive Angst, 18+, slow burn, porn with plot, murder, Aizawa is Yandere

You tried to keep your head down. You wanted to speak. You felt the words you wanted to say bubbling up in your throat, desperately trying to simmer.

"Don't disappoint me Y/n." You fathers booming voice bowelled. His intense aura making you feel smaller than you already were compared to him.

"Yes father." You spoke, still trying to maintain a put together face. You were slightly confused as to what was going on but would never voice it as you learned where talking out of line got you. Your mind hissed at the memories of the endless nights of torture your father would put you through just so you would never talk 'out of place' again.

Unimpressed your father scoffed, watching as the car rolled to a sudden stop. He let himself out, leaving you to bear the responsibility of fear. His assistant opened the door, his heart sharing the same hole as yours. "Good luck miss." He whispered, cheering you on knowing that this tiny act of kindness could get him killed. You gave him a warm smile innocent but filled with bloodshed, wanting to be in his shoes, even as a assistant for a man like your father. At least he could escape. At least he wasn't wasted down by the overbearing responsibilities you bared.

His shoes were different from the feet you walked with. You quickly and quietly made way to catch up with your father who still ignored your existence for as long as possible. He stepped through the sleek sophisticated door, you behind his large frame.

Life has never been fair to you or your family. When you were born your mother fell ill causing her to be hidden from the outside world. Sometimes when you’d have nightmares you’d curl into the warmth of her bony chest, watching as her warm arms wrapped around you. She’d reassure you countless times, kissing your temple. But now those days were gone. You no longer could run into your mom's touch, watch her smile glow up the room full of iv drips and medicine.

"This is Y/n. Shes the one that you will be betrothed." Your fathers familiar booming voice declared. You stood shell shocked, not wanting to believe what your eyes had soaked in. "N-no...H-he didn't say that." You blinked a few times to make sure you weren't stuck in some messed up nightmare but found you were very awake.

Your father nudged you as he placed his hands on your shoulders and activated his quirk, burning into the cloth of your clothes. You wasted no time, bowing before the strange man. "She might be a little untamed but I'm sure you'll figure it out." He said, throwing you at the man that stood before you.

Your face was nothing but mortified as you saw your father walking out of the room, still sharing the same uninterested look at you as when you were born. "F-father?" You scampered towards him, scraping yourself and ignoring the man that you fell into. He shared nothing but a simple scoff.

You blanked as your world flipped on its side. You saw your father looming over you as if he had put something rotten in his mouth. The glint that he shared between you sent your body into hives and shivers.

"I am not your father. Don't call me that." "If it were up to me, I would've never had you." "I would've sold you off to some man any day, but it appeared he was the only buyer."

"So, play nice now."

As soon as he spoke your body reacted with the only reaction it could. You hauled forward, your body rejecting everything. As you threw up all over the poor man's floor you noticed the sleek black shoes your father always wore disappear behind the black door.

You desperately reached for his long-gone presence. tears and snot uncontrollably free falling in front of you. "P-please father!"

"Don't leave me! Don't leave me behind! I-I'll be good!" Your heart wrenching words dissipated into thin air as it would never reach your targeted audience. The only man in the room however rushed to your side, immediately comforting you.

You watched as the world went black.

You woke up with a heavy migraine, your brain trying to forget the part where your father basically admits to hating you at birth. You hold your stomach as you try to muster an emotion other than grief and freedom mixed but you find yourself unable.

You look around realizing that your environment was completely different from what you knew. The spacious room overwhelmed you and the man that laid across from you spoke danger. You quickly huddled up into your legs as the strange man stirred in his sleep, transitioning to a woke state. "W-where am I?" You spoke, your voice faint and hoarse. You cringe at how little words fall from your mouth. "My house." The man utters.

You decide to take a good look at him, taking in his gruffy patch under his chin, his eyebags and his ragged black hair.

"Shota? -"

Both of your faces light up upon remembering a distant name from the past.

"Hi y/n." He breathes a breath of relief. You grabbed him immediately, embracing him tightly as he stood stunned, unsure of weather to hug you back and risk never letting you go.

"I thought I'd never see you again." Aizawa Whispered softly afraid you might float away from how light you felt in his arms. You let go, examining his face once more, fighting the urge to pepper it with soft kisses.

"Oh Aizawa..." "I-I'm so sorry..." You stuttered. You felt immense guilt as he talked his worry of you onto you.

"I had to leave UA. I wanted to be like you, a teacher but my father..." You choked, not sure if you can even call him a proper father. All he ever knew was pain.

"Don't worry. You'll be ok now." He reassured, lightly stroking your head. You whimpered into his chest, carving small circles.

For the first time in a long time you could feel yourself breathe. It was like you no longer had to cover your mouth, or act like you were stepping on pins and needles. You were free.

——*a few months later*——

You thought you’d hate the idea of marriage. Being tied down to a lover, or whoever your father would put you with in the end. But Aizawa was determined to erase any mark that monster had placed on you, and that started with the roots itself.

Since Aizawa was a pro hero he was fully aware he could never kill the villains he pursued. But the more Aizawa held you at night and watched you wriggle and mewl in your sleep made the reasonable thoughts broil. He knew he just had to do something. He stepped downstairs at after finalizing his plan, seeing you downstairs preparing him another beautiful breakfast that he felt a little bad that he wasn’t gonna eat. But there would be many great meals that he’d enjoy with you after he got rid of the lingering problem.

You looked so peaceful with your hair tied up and idling in one of his t shirts, never failing to look like a supernova even in the groggy mornings. He couldn’t resist and had to feel you from behind if even to just get the smell of you in his mind. “Hey baby” Aizawa’s groggy and rasped voice croaked. You startled, jumped as he wrapped his arms around your waist, rocking you side to side to let you know it was him.

“Hey honey. You ready to eat?” You asked, spatula in your hand but your attention all on him. He loved the way you’d fill his stomach with butterflies like he was a teenager again when you looked up at him with trust.

“No sorry sweets, I’ll pass but I’ll be back to eat later.” He didn’t fail to miss how you deflated a bit but perked back up after he hugged you tighter you perked back up.

“Well alright. Just be back in time for lunch or dinner.” You nagged like a wife. You caught yourself on the words, visibly flashing a hand to your mouth. He laughed, thinking about how little you changed through the years, even through high school you were shy and reserved but around him you loosened up unintentionally. It made him feel like he had done right. He’d been told by many peers and other of his students that he was scary, but deep down Aizawa cared, just was very used to acting like he doesn’t.

He planted a wet kiss on your face, exiting the warm feel of your embrace, looking back at you one last time for a fond memory until he gets back from doing a little “errand”.

He watched from afar at his victim. He watched as he left in his black car that had been in his rear view. Aizawa watched as the tall buff man exited the car and into his esteemed home with no car in the world. He looked as if he had no concern. It made Aizawa want to erase him even more. Aizawa followed close behind posing as a pro hero just put on patrol. He banged on the tall door that assisted the tall lowly man.

The door shot open as his tall stature sank to the front door. “What?” His booming voice rang. Aizawa could tell why this voice hurt and scared you so much but Aizawa was determined to make sure you never wind ear of a melody as broken as his. The man was visibly puzzled when he saw no one was standing at his doorstep. Shrugging it off and grumbling back inside his domain. Aizawa, already one step ahead, was inside his house without anyone or anything hearing/noticing. He promised the job would be clean and quick, all so he could have as much time with you as he wanted for the rest of both of your lives. He watched as the man sat in his office with a state of the art tablet, focused on whatever shady business he was indulging in. Aziawa made no effort to hide any longer revealing himself to the perpetrator that taunted the love of his life for so long under the radar. “What are you doing in here? Who let you in?!”

“Y’know you should do your research a little better.” Aizawa spoke, ignoring his past comment. Aizawa quickly and hastily poked the knife he placed at his knee to the grown man’s neck. And without second thought he slashed. He made sure the cut were clean and watched as blood splattered from his neck. He made little to no noise. Only choking on his gurgles of blood.

He quickly dipped out of the crime scene leaving nothing behind. He was aware that your father had ties and Allies, but with those allies were his enemies. Enemies that hated him with a diehard passion. Some of his Allies were backstabbers anyway, but your father was blinded by his power that he failed to even realize that you were what was keeping his business up. With you being there and as his weapon made him powerful but alone his quick could be quickly outmatched.

Aizawa shrugged, concluding that he’d fall down the ladder sooner or later but just decided to speed up the process. By now it was late and he knew that he probably had a worried wife at home waiting patiently for his arrival home. His heart fluttered, leaving behind the murderous acts where they belonged.

As soon as he stepped through the door he was happily greeted by you jumping at him wrapping your arms around him. “Where have you been?” You asked worried. You scanned his body for any marks of harm but when you found nothing you warmly hugged him again. “Sorry I’m so late honey.” He whispered into your head. He picked you up holding his lips to your face. You scrambled under him to put you down.

“Aizawa! Put me down you maniac!” You laughed, clutching onto him as he walked to your bedroom. “But I missed you so so much darling.” He teased, placing you gently on the bed to pepper your face with kisses. He towered over you showering you with deep love.

You both paused to look at each other, both lost in the way the other looked. He gently lowered into you, his eyes intoxicated with a potent that had you falling deep into his lips. You both share a loving kiss Aizawas hands not knowing if they should roam down your body. You grab his hand after breaking the kiss and bring it up to your left breast.

“It’s ok Aizawa.”

“I trust you.” You clearly spoke into his ear. You watched as his face shared a bright dusk of blush as he slowly allowed his hands to travel down every curve and slope of your body. You shivered under his touch, mewling and mumbling under him.

He found his way to back to your breast, playing and toying with the hard nipple that formed from his touch.

“So fucking beautiful.” He muttered. You tended up as the words registered to your ears. You noticed the bulge that grew in his pants as he kissed down your stomach, his eyes pleading for permission. You nodded as he pulled and teased at your already wet panties that now fled attention to the floor.

“You’re so fucking wet for me princess.” You hid your eyes as he played with your slick that was soaking his fingers as they played with your entrance.

“No, no, no sweetie, don’t look away. Be good and look at your man playing with your sweet cunt.”

You reluctantly opened your eyes to see his two fingers coying with your needy cunt. You watched as his fingers lodged their way inside of you. You quivered at the new feeling of something wriggling inside of you. “So damn tight for me baby.” He whispered as he fixated all his attention to you pussy. You wiggled and moaned as he stretched and prodded at your needy hole.

“p-please”

“what princess?” He stopped, looking at you. You lifted your leg to brush against his raging bulge. You felt it twitch against your touch and watched as Aizawa seethed with pleasure.

“Tell me what you want” He demanded.

“Y-you.”

Aizawa clicked his teeth, freeing his cock from his pants. You saw how it laid out on your stomach. You imagined how easy you’d tear from how big he was. You were completely new to this, and a little intimidated by the girth and length of his twitching cock.

He pumped his member testing and readying it at your entrance. “Don’t worry baby, it’ll fit.” He soothed playfully. You flushed at how he petted your stomach as he stabled himself inside you.

You both seared with how tight everything felt. You felt the world spin as pain and pleasure mixed beautifully. You greedy pussy pushed for more of Aizawa’s cock as he paused to let you breathe.

“You’re doing so well for me princess” he kissed your teary face. “Is it all the way in yet?” You whimpered. He lightly chuckled, and shook his head softly.

“we’re not even half way darling.” He spoke. You felt yourself stretching and clamping around him as he thrusted his way inside you. You felt how his cock crawled into your cervix and deep inside your womb. You felt the way your pussy throbbed for harder movements.

“P-please keep going.” You voiced.

At that moment Aizawa lost control and started pounding at your womb. You felt your ass shake as skin collided with one another. You watched the small bulge in your stomach disappear and reappear every time he rammed in and out. Soon you start to feel the sensation of your stomach coiling around him. “Aizawa i-I’m gonna-“

“don’t worry I’m going to cum to baby.” He grunted. You watched as your cunt slicked more and more as his thrust became deeper and stronger. You grasp onto his back, leaving your own special mark on him as you screamed and moaned his name.

“That’s right baby, my name is the only name you need to know.” He panted. You felt the coil in your stomach snap as you started spasming around him, coating his cock with your cum. Not too long after you Aizawa chases his own high, nearing his climax.

“g-gonna fill you up. Gonna breed you with my children baby.” He said as he thrusted.

Your mind started going blank as he kept pounding your soaked and overly sensitive pussy.

“Y-yes please fill me up w-with your lovely cum.” You panted as you both stared eachother in the eyes.

You felt his cock explode and coat your womb with his load. You felt how his cum traveled its way inside you, some of it overflowing out of your twitching womb.

The room was filled with moans and pants, the room smelling of fucked out sex and the feeling of hot bodies touching each other.

Aizawa laid against you for a moment before pulling out, gaining a whimper from you and how the empty pop of his cock leaving your pussy made you shiver. He placed you in his chest, you still feeling weak and your legs still shaking. “I love you y/n.” He said, breaking the silence. He planted a kiss on your head, when he heard no sounds or reply he glanced and saw how you were peacefully sleeping on his chest, bundled up and face beautifully resting.

The next morning you woke up and next to you, Aizawa resting peacefully, arms around your waist. You kissed his nose and watched it scrunch up as he moved in his sleep. You quietly giggled while trying to escape his grasp. You went to the bathroom to clean the sticky sensation from yesterdays ‘nightly activities’.

As you stepped out of the bathroom, clean and new you traveled back to the bedroom to throw your clothes away when Aizawa’s rustling made his presence.

“Where are you going honey?” He asked groggy with his eyes still closed.

“sorry to wake you baby.” You kissed his forehead, waking up from the sudden movement of his love trying to get out of his embrace too early.

“Come back to bed.” He whined. You indulged him, laying back into his needy embrace.

He rocked you and wrestled you around and soon you both were play fighting in the bed.

“Aizawa stop that!” You playfully cried out as he tickled you. “Stop? Stop what? Oh this?” He tickled again over you. You kissed his lips and you both fell into a deep make out session. When you both break the kiss Aizawa just takes a second to watch you. Look at the love of his life. “Y/n please marry me.” He spouts. Your eyes glow as he hugs you waiting for your reply.

“Really?” You stuttered.

“Of course, you’re the one I want to spend the rest of my life with. I’ve actually wanted to marry you since high school.” He admitted.

“Really?” You flushed, soon you two were having a conversation on how you both like each other in UA but never acted on the feeling. It was like you both were in high school again. Your heart felt fulfilled as you watched him ramble about how he was so into you and you never knew.

You cuddled up into him listening to him call you his wife.

A/N: hey y’all! Thanks to these two people who sent me a message! When I saw them I literally felt so fulfilled that I started on this last night. Sorry it took so long but it’s not done I still gotta do part 6 of Falling for a dead rose so see you then.🫡

[isfjmel-phleg]

@inklings-challenge here is my contribution for day 18's prompt, "friendship."

This is another piece of what will hopefully turn into a full story about Amarantha's visit to Elystan during his holed-up at Endean era. We get to see more of what their friendship looks like at this point, but something is off...

Elystan sank back into the pillows and went silent longer than was strictly comfortable. Amarantha shifted the parcel under her arm to a more visible angle. That got his attention.

“What have you got there?” he asked listlessly.

She shoved it into his hands. “Happy Christmas!”

“It’s not—”

“I know it’s not, but I had no way of getting it to you then. I’ve been waiting for so long.”

He turned it over a few times. “Well, it’s not a stereoscope. Pity. I wanted one of those.”

Amarantha rolled her eyes. “You probably already have at least five.”

“Or six.” He shrugged. “I’ve lost count. And it’s too flat to be one of those souvenir statuettes of Queen Edella that they sell. ‘A Gift from What’s-the-name-of-that-town.’ That sort of thing. That would have been my second choice. You really are dreadful at knowing what to give me.”

“Just open it!” she nearly shouted, bouncing the mattress a little. She couldn’t help fidgeting as she watched him tug at the ribbons and slowly slit the paper with one finger.

Weeks of careful work had gone into this gift. It was in fact her fourth effort, after the first three tries had failed to capture the image in her mind’s eye. Her father had taken her to a shop to have it framed and had even chipped in with the difference when the cost had turned out to exceed her funds. This portrait was the pinnacle of Amarantha’s work to date, and she was almost sorry to have to give it away. But of course Elystan more than anyone else ought to have it. She had spent weeks imagining the look on his face when he saw it, until she could almost have constructed another portrait from that image.

The last of the paper fell away. He kept his head down. She couldn’t see his reaction.

Her portrait depicted the Elystan whom she had observed at Chandemothe Castle just a few months again—an Elystan laughing uproariously at something she had said. His head was thrown back, his eyes were shining, and a broad grin filled out his narrow face. Every feature was delicately outlined in pen strokes, and pencils highlighted his dark hair, pink cheeks, and blue eyes. She had tactfully left out the slightly reddened nose and the dark circles under his eyes. They were not essential to the character she was conveying.

But perhaps they were essential to the Elystan who was now looking from the picture to her and back again with an expression that Amarantha couldn’t read. The presence of the portrait only made it more evident how much he had changed in that short time—how the face had further hollowed and lost its color and the eyes had become red-rimmed and enormous.

“It’s a good likeness,” he said at last.

“Thank you,” said Amarantha.

“Was it a pencil sketch first?”

“Yes.” 

“And then you inked it?”

“Yes.”

He nodded. “It’s good work.”

“Thank you.”

He set her portrait on the bedside table, face down. “Thank you very much. It was thoughtful of you,” he said in an addressing-diplomats voice.

“You’re welcome,” she said. “I hope you like it.”

“I do.”

He hated it.

She had handed him a tangible reminder of a self that apparently he had lost somewhere, a visual slap in the face. And he hated it so much that he couldn’t even insult it.

Amarantha wished she had never come.

His brow furrowed. “But I don’t have anything for you. I was—Christmas was very different this year, and I—I suppose I forgot.”

He had been ill, of course. He had to know that she would have heard about it. Why was he so cagey about admitting it?

“That’s all right,” she said. “I didn’t give it to you to receive anything.”

“But it’s only fair. I know—go to the bookcase. Pick out whatever you like. It’s yours.”

Amarantha didn’t budge. “I am not taking any of your books.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my books. They’re in excellent condition. Well, aside from some notes here and there, but that makes them more interesting. Go on. Take one.”

“I can’t accept something like that. They’re your books. You love them.”

He flipped a hand dismissively. “Take one. I don’t need them anymore.”

“What does that mean?”

Something in his face frightened her. She couldn’t say why.

“I suppose…you’re going to get new ones soon?” she said cautiously. “Is that why?”

He half-shrugged. “Take as many as you like. I don’t care.”

“But—”

“Please.”

His eyes welled up just enough to be noticeable. She knew exactly what he was doing. Elystan never cried unless with strategic intent. He probably wasn’t even capable of it. And he knew that she knew that, so this must be desperation indeed.

“Well, if you’re going to make all that fuss about it—” She slid off the mattress and approached the bookcase reluctantly. Staring at the shelves long enough would convince him she was making a thorough search of his collection, like a vulture ready to scavenge. When she couldn’t stand it any longer, she selected one at random and returned to the bed.

Only then did she read the title.

Farewell to Phelep Farrowmere.

The cover illustration was a closed door with the key fallen out of the lock.

Elystan glanced at it. “That’s what I thought you’d choose. You’ll like it.”

Perhaps she would leave it on a table on her way out. Perhaps one of the staff might be able to slip back onto Elystan’s shelf without his noticing.Whatever the case, she knew in her bones that she couldn’t take that book. She shouldn’t.

[cantillat-moved]

@moonlightmagus "Shirou! There you are." The female says, smiling warmly as she caught up to her partner. A small box was in her hand. "I couldn't let this day go without this! It took a bit longer to get together, but here!" Inside was a picture frame. The photo was a small group photo of Shirou, Miyu and Yuuki. Yuuki was holding the smaller girl with a big warm smile on her face. Miyu was giggling with her eyes closed as she was being lifted slightly. Shirou was in the back also holding onto Miyu with her. The frame said 'Our Found Happiness'

"Happy Birthday, Shirou!" (The prisma Gang!)

Sitting down in one of the dojos, Shirou was enjoying a moment of respite. Truth being told, as much he wished to pull his weight all the time today was one of these days that he could feel his body feeling a little heavier, sluggish. He had been extremely harsh on his body, so he deserves that – the strain that his magic circuits have been through not entirely healing and the constant chiding from Chaldea’s medical staff makes him feel bad for them. So maybe taking one day off might be a good idea, right ? Arms crossed, eyes closed, if he wasn’t going to train his physique perhaps some meditation could do him some good. A beloved voice chimed, her smile bright as the morning sun in spring meeting his now-opened eyes. His smile tried to match hers but it was nigh impossible, she was simply too beautiful and her elation was contagious. ❝ Eh ? This day ? ❞ her words cause him to pause for a bit, trying to figure out until it hit him: his birthday ! Shirou was so used to focus on celebrating Miyu’s birthdays and barely paying attention to his own that he seldom recalled it. It was a little hard when there weren’t a lot of people around to share it… ❝ Oh right. Birthday. ❞ his mouth finally caught up with his thoughts, so he stood up and met her as soon as she got closer.

❝ Hey, I remember this day. There was a fair or something in the Singularity and I was worried Miyu and you would get stomachache from all the cotton candy you ate. ❞ his smile widened, holding on to the frame ❝ I wonder if it has anything to do with Gray-san calling them “fairy floss”. ❞ a small tease before caressing Yuuki’s features with one free hand and giving her a gentle kiss. ❝ Thank you. You two are my happiness. ❞

[vargaslovinghours]

Third time’s the charm (1 | 2)

Upside-down Edgar lol. I actually did draw him upside down, like that art exercise, I was surprised by how good he turned out! Floof

Couple’a yellow Jakes!

So for the end of Wish Fulfillment, I actually pictured their clothes in stages :0 At least once they were back to being represented physically rather than an emotional energy haha. Starting off as raw and exposed and reflecting Edgar’s physical state, and then as they calmed down gaining clothes but still not quite back up to full - I always think Scriabin looks very small without his coat and considering how vulnerable he was there, it just seemed to fit. By the time he pushed Edgar away, I saw him with his coat again. It wasn’t described that way but I thought it was interesting that my brain supplied it anyway lol

Hug time. Scriabin’s hesitant, too bad it’s so hard to resist affection

One of a few Scriabin temps of him holding his head, I’m glad I finally got to use this pose haha

Another doodle off the heels of Omori. Black lightbulbs symbolize a repressed thought, hmm

A bit of ominous posing, neither of them look particularly happy about it tho

I forget which one I was rereading but it made me cry, so I’m gonna guess it was You Can’t Live Like This ♥ Ohp, wait, upon reviewing my notes, it was Parent-Teacher Night. There’s just so many to choose from!

When Coco took over my brain for about a week lol, skeletons are a good look. Those scars probably wouldn’t be down to his bones, maybe they’re detailing? I also liked the idea of Edgar having rather modest accents, and of them having similar designs ♪

I really liked the little split @happyfunballxd​ drew in Scriabin’s coat, little tails :D Super cute!

Couple Scriabins from behind, I wanted something sleepy-looking that showed his shoulder but the first one was a bit stiff, much better with a proper action line. He’s really so pretty ♪

I had a brief idea for a popular AU trope but I backtracked on it pretty quickly; I did still end up making a couple doodles that I thought were fun. Case in point, Scriabin feeding Edgar ice cream lol

Antagonistic yarn accessorizing. It’s just tied in place but it’s hard to remove! He probably knots it into his hair so it won’t just slip out just to be mean lol

Got into a bit of a steampunk mood and the return of the low ponytail. Goggles seem a bit redundant but they’re so fun! Plus I’ve drawn him in suspenders and a waistcoat, but not just a vest, he looks nice :D

Always holding each other closely. I think I just wanted them touching each other’s faces, they turned out quite cute, quite soft

I was watching some religion-and-mental-health type videos and the line “Self-loathing is a sin” came up and well. We’ve all seen those church marquees right lol

Digital redraw of the first of this set since I like it so much ♪ The shading was what I wanted to focus on the most, I’m quite happy with his lapels and the creases at the upper edges of his sleeves but I do miss the detail the doodle version had in his hair ahh

Chocolate! Tiny nibbles

Very small doodle of Scriabin leaning over the couch to watch Edgar play something. I guess it’d be on a Gameboy, looks more like an SP here lol

I thought of these for an April Fools Day comic where things are cute and fluffy and domestic, but I didn’t have the energy for it unfortunately :’) It wasn’t exactly how I wrote it down, so maybe I can rework it yet

More!! Lol

Scriabin bein’ nasty, repression’s a must-be-mean topic haha, there is a lot of it

Just a little possessive, only a little bit. I really like the arm posing especially

I ended up really liking this one, impatient Scriabin with his arms thrown everywhere plush haha

I’ll be here all week

I tend to draw Edgar’s sleeves folded against his arms rather than loose and free, so I gave it a go and thought it looked a little silly haha. I’m all for silly tho!

Rude

He has never in his life had any amount of street smarts

More YGOTAS lol

I’ve drawn Scriabin carrying Edgar around bridal style a few times and the sizing was always off but I keep returning to it ‘cause symbolism and closeness. Exhausting work, carrying all that baggage!

More carrying around, where’s Edgar’s head even if Scriabin’s still here? Wake up!

Felt like revisiting one of my earlier facial hair styles, looks so strange now that I’ve moved away from it

Original sketches for Carry you here, I’m happy with how both versions turned out but I am a little sad the cheek touch turned into more of a forehead touch in the digital version, I feel like this one’s just a bit sweeter. I wanted the glow to be a bit more obvious too but couldn’t quite figure out the shading

And trying to figure out what hand expression I wanted, thumb touch was very important

Oh-so-subtly mixing sweetness and dropping hints, not that Edgar will ever pick up on them

He’s real happy they’re there in the first place lol

No body to hug with :(

I was doing some proportion practice and him sitting on the couch was funny at the time

He has fallen, goodness gracious. So dramatic haha

Spook poofs. How could you Edgar!

Put a shirt on

Scriabin taking apart Edgar’s “guiltless” self-image. “It was never yours to begin with,” reminding him of everything he’s done

Pretty sure I was inspired by a cat video for this one lol. “I didn’t ask for this!” “Okay I’ll stop” “I didn’t ask for that either!”

Something-something Edgar’s yarn is somewhat loose but Scriabin’s is tied to Edgar’s hand. I actually have a good several Vargas hand expressions but these are probably the most obvious

S’fucken wimdy

Cryingggg 🌸 Three apiece, gotta keep it fair haha. Although Edgar’s not crying for the first one, he’s not quite hit that overwhelm just yet, Scriabin’s not so lucky

That’s February through the end of May! Still so many ideas lol

[criminalmindzjunkie]

Avoidance

masterlist

part two

Summary: Reader doesn’t know what she did to make Spencer hate her so much.

A/N: This fic is just a reminder that sub!Spencer lives rent free in my head at all times. Also, if anyone would like to be on a taglist for one shots like these, let me know! I’m going to work on getting one started.

Pairing: sub!Spencer/femdom! reader

Content Warnings: honestly way too much swearing, sexual harassment, slapping, hands free orgasm, oral sex (male and female receiving), hand job, orgasm denial, edging, unprotected sex, vaginal penetration, degradation, femdom 

Word Count: 8.2k

           I have absolutely no idea what I’ve done to make Spencer Reid hate me.

           Usually, when someone despises a person to the point of complete and total avoidance, there’s a reason. No one just wakes up and decides to resent another person for the hell of it – right? Wrong.

           Because Spencer Reid positively loathes me – and I have no idea why.

           It all started on my first day at the BAU. I had somehow landed the highly coveted job of media liaison after the previous one had decided to complete the training to be a profiler. For reasons unbeknownst to me, they thought a twenty-four-year-old fresh out of college with no prior job experience was the best fit for the position. I didn’t understand it, but I also wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

           To say that I had been terrified the first time I set foot into the bullpen would be the understatement of the century. After a very formal and very intimidating orientation with the unit chief, my predecessor, a beautiful blonde named Jennifer, offered herself up to be my personal tour guide. Jennifer introduced me to the other members of the team, and with every smiling face I came in contact with, my fears of being the odd man out were assuaged. I could tell that Penelope Garcia, tech analyst extraordinaire, would most likely be my biggest ally – and it was abundantly clear that Derek Morgan and I would probably get into a fair amount of mischief together. Elle Greenaway seemed like the obvious choice for a future drinking buddy, and Jason Gideon – well, he merely grunted at me in acknowledgment before retreating back to his office. I figured three out of four wasn’t so bad.

           I didn’t meet Doctor Spencer Reid until after lunch. Jennifer mentioned something about him guest lecturing at a local university, which surprised me considering she mentioned him being a year younger than me. Apparently, the kid was an actual genius, which was more than a little bit intimidating, but Jennifer assured me that Spencer was a sweetheart.

           “He’s a little quirky, but I’m sure you’ll love him. Just don’t be surprised if he tries to talk your ear off,” Jennifer laughs. “Last week I asked him about the weather and he went off on a tangent about climate change that lasted nearly an hour.”

           By the time Spencer strolled into the bullpen at exactly one in the evening, I was sitting perched atop Jennifer’s desk, thoroughly engrossed as she told me about their latest case. When she stops talking midsentence in favor of smiling at someone behind me, I half expect that Morgan is attempting to sneak up on me, when:

           “Hey, look who’s back,” Jennifer greets, prompting me to turn around excitedly. I was eager to put a face to the man I’d heard so much about.

           And when I turn, my eyes land on the prettiest man I’ve ever seen.

           Sharp cheekbones and a chiseled jawline are framed by shaggy brown hair, complete with beautiful brown eyes and soft, pillowy lips. As if his good looks weren’t enough, he’s dressed in the most adorably nerdy sweater vest and a pair of thin framed glasses. He’s absolutely precious – a fact that Jennifer had conveniently left out.

           “How was the lecture?” Jennifer asks him as he places his satchel on the desk adjacent to hers. Spencer perks up at this, smiling excitedly from across the divider.

           “I think it went really good, actually. I incorporated this really cool joke that I heard about quantum physics. Do you want to-”

           He stops abruptly when he realizes Jennifer isn’t his only spectator, and those lovely brown eyes go almost comically wide when they settle on me.

           “Spencer, this is Y/N Y/L/N. She’s the new media liaison. Y/N, this is Doctor Spencer Reid.”

           I give him my best smile, tacking on a small wave for good measure.

           “It’s nice to meet you, Doctor Reid. Jennifer’s told me a lot about you.”

           “Uh, y-yeah. It’s n-nice to meet you, too,” Spencer stutters. He looks positively stricken and I’m fairly sure he hasn’t blinked in over a minute. I cast a glance at Jennifer, who seems just as confused as I am.

           Well, she had mentioned that he was a tad strange.

           “I’d like to hear the joke,” I offer, only to immediately regret it when I see him tense up.

           “N-No, that’s o-okay,” he chokes out as he struggles to gather the files on his desk. “It’s n-not that good, anyways.”

           And just as quickly as he came, Spencer leaves in a flurry of crumpled papers, leaving Jennifer and I wondering what the fuck just happened.

--

           Things didn’t get better with time. In fact, they got much worse.

           In the six months that I had been working for the BAU, I could count my interactions with Spencer Reid on one hand. It wasn’t for lack of trying on my part – in my desperation to figure out what I’d done to make him avoid me, I sought out the young genius every chance I got. But every time I got within ten feet of him, it’s like an alarm would sound in his head and he’d make up some excuse to leave the room.

           The others had noticed his strange behavior, too. It seemed they all had made a sort of game out of it – calling Spencer into rooms that I was in just to see him panic, or asking me to personally deliver files to his desk. At first, I played into it, hoping that their teasing would help to diffuse some of the tension.

           After a month of being on the receiving end of Spencer’s cold shoulder, I started avoiding him, too.

           I tried to act indifferent – like it didn’t hurt me as badly as it did. I no longer sought him out, and by month two, we had a sort of understanding. I didn’t go near him, and he didn’t go near me, and that’s how it went on for four miserable months.

           Until today.

           “Reid, Y/L/N, you’re in 202.”

           I damn near drop my bag on the floor. This was bound to happen at some point or another, but I hadn’t planned on that day being today, and I was not prepared. After nine hours of running around the local police department, my body was weighed down from fatigue and I was downright grumpy. Not to mention I had picked the worst possible day to try and break in a new pair of heels, and my feet were throbbing.

           Needless to say, I was in no mood to deal with Spencer Reid’s bullshit.

           “Uh, Hotch? Could I maybe room with Elle?” I ask, sending a glare in Morgan’s direction when he snorts out a laugh. Hotch raises an eyebrow at me.

           “Why? Is there a problem?”

           Yes, sir, there certainly is. And your guess is as good as mine as to what that problem is.

           “No, but I just think that-”

           “Good. Then you should be fine to share a room with him.”

           Right.

           I spare a brief glance at Spencer, who, in the last thirty seconds, has turned the color of a tomato. I pray that he’ll speak up and voice his discomfort, but just like always, he stays silent.

           Hotch doles out the room keys and I begin the trek down the hallway, my poor aching feet groaning in protest with every step. I’m vaguely aware of the sound of footsteps behind me, and it’s not until I swipe the key into the key card that Spencer speaks.

           But not to me – no, never to me.

           “Derek, please, I’m begging you. Just switch with me this one time, and – and I’ll do your reports for a month!”

           After six months of dealing with Spencer’s aversion to me, his words should come as no surprise. And really, I’d expected as much - but that didn’t mean it hurt any less.

           “Not happening, kid. This is the perfect opportunity for you to get over whatever problem you have with Y/N. I bet you’ll even end up liking her. She’s not going to be rude to you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

           “… T-That’s not what I’m worried abo-”

           I don’t wait around to hear the rest of his sentence. I push open the door to the room, not bothering to wait for Spencer before closing it. I kick off my heels as soon as the door clicks shut, letting out a half relieved, half frustrated  groan.

           After claiming the bed nearest the air conditioner as my own, I pluck my pajamas and toiletry bag out from my suitcase and shuffle over to the bathroom. The way I see it, the quicker I get a shower and can go to sleep, the faster the night will pass. Before I know it, this unfortunate situation will be a thing of the past.

           After drawing out the shower for as long as I possibly could, I exit the bathroom clad in a tank top and a pair of shorts, hair dripping wet and skin freshly scrubbed clean. Spencer’s sitting on his bed, book in hand and tie loosened. He doesn’t look up at me when I walk by - not that I’d expected him to. A thick silence hangs in the air as I pull a bottle of lotion out from my suitcase, and I debate turning on the TV just to make things slightly less awkward. In the end I decide against it, because I doubt even that could make this situation better.

           I prop a leg up on the bed and begin to lather my legs in cherry scented lotion, paying special care to my aching feet before moving on. It’s not until both of my legs have been thoroughly massaged and coated in lotion that I look up.

           Spencer’s eyes are locked on me, mouth hanging open and chest heaving up and down. His knuckles are white from how hard they’re clutching the book in his hands, but despite that I can still see the way they’re trembling. When he realizes I've caught him staring, he closes his mouth and gulps hard.

           I straighten up and raise an eyebrow in a silent question, and that’s enough for Spencer to snap his book shut and scramble off of the bed. He’s clumsy as he moves to his suitcase, dropping his bottle of travel shampoo twice before he reaches the bathroom. If I wasn’t so off put by whatever the hell had just happened, I might have thought it cute.

--

           As if the universe thought my current predicament wasn’t enough to deal with, the next morning I was dealt another shitty hand. This time, my distress came in the form of a young cop who couldn’t pick up on social cues to save his life. After an entire morning of dodging sleazy advances, I finally managed to shake him when his superior sent him out to go and actually do his fucking job.

           Or so I thought.

           I’m standing in the breakroom, pouring my fourth (or is it my fifth?) cup of coffee when I hear the sound of footsteps in the hall. I don’t know if I’ve developed a sixth sense about these things, or if I’m just particularly on edge today, but I know it’s the young officer before he can even cross the threshold.

           And when he does, and he sees that he has me cornered, a saccharine smile stretches across his lips.

           “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he drawls in an accent that could probably be attractive if he wasn’t so damn skeevy.

           “Might wanna get your eyes checked,” I mutter, refusing to look in his direction as I stir my coffee.

           “Pretty and feisty. Just how I like my women.”

           “I am not your anything,” I seethe, and instead of backing off like any respectful human being would, he just chuckles and begins to saunter towards me.

           “C’mon baby, you don’t have to be that way. You don’t have to act all professional with me.”

           “Don’t call me that.” I look at him now, and the smug, self-righteous smile on his face makes my blood boil.

           “You don’t like baby? That’s fine – I’m sure I can think of lots of other things to call you,” he murmurs. He’s closer now, so close that I can practically feel his breath against my neck.

           “I’m going to tell you to stop one more time, and it would be in your best interest to listen,” I growl.

           “Or what?” he taunts. “I’d like to see you try to stop me.”

           I jolt forward when a hand comes down hard on my ass, squeezing me harshly through the material of my skirt.

           Oh, fuck no.

           I’m whirling around faster than I ever thought possible, and then a harsh crack sounds throughout the room as my hand comes in contact with his face.

           My hand stings from the contact, but the pain is welcome because he flies backwards, stumbling and grasping as his already reddening cheek.

           “What the fuck?” he roars, eyes flashing with unbridled fury. I take several steps towards him, and to my utmost delight he nearly trips over himself in his hurry to put distance between us. I stop when his back hits the wall and I lean in until our faces are only inches apart.

           “Listen here, you limp dick fuck,” I snarl. “I’m getting real sick and fucking tired of pathetic pieces of shit like you thinking they can put their hands on women. What’s your problem? Are you so fucking tactless that you can’t get anyone to fuck you?” I punctuate my question by jabbing my pointer finger into his chest and cocking my head to the side. “Are you so unappealing that the only way you can get your hands on a woman is to wait until she’s alone and try to corner her?

           Or is it a power thing? You’ve got the gun and the badge so you think you’re entitled to just take what you want, don’t you? You think no one can stop you because you’re in a position of power. Well, I have some news for you – I outrank you, and you just assaulted a federal agent. I will not stop until I ruin your fucking career, and if you even think of trying to lie your way out of this, I’ll do a helluva lot fucking worse. After the week I’m having, I am just looking for an excuse to kick your fucking dick into the dirt. Do you understand?”

           By the time I finish speaking, my chest is heaving up and down and my eyes are narrowed into slits. The officer is so angry that he’s shaking, hands balled up to fists at his sides. For a moment, I think he’ll try to hit me, but then his hard-exterior cracks and the anger gives way to fear.

           “You – You can’t tell anyone about this,” he says, trying his best to sound menacing. But his voice wavers, and I can tell he’s losing his grip. “It’ll r-ruin my career.”

           I raise my hand up to his cheek, placing my palm over the red imprint I had left on his skin. And then I flash him the sweetest goddamn smile that ever there was.

           “I’d like to see you try to stop me.”

           I give him a pat on the cheek before turning around and heading for the door, only to stop halfway when I see that I have an audience of one.

           Spencer stands in the doorway, a coffee mug gripped tightly in one hand, mouth agape and eyes wide. He’s standing stock still, eyes darting in between the police officer and me. I let out an exasperated sigh because of-fucking-course it would be Spencer that would happen to walk in on whatever that just was.

           “Close your mouth, Reid. That’s how you catch flies,” I deadpan, prompting Spencer to snap his mouth shut.

           Without another word, I brush past him and leave the break room.

--

           I suppose the universe had decided to finally give me a break, because that afternoon we were able to apprehend the unsub. But my good fortune only went so far, because Hotch announced that we would be leaving first thing in the morning – which meant another night alone with Spencer Reid.

           He didn’t mention what he walked in on when the two of us arrived back at our room, and I didn’t expect him to. The two of us went about the motions of unwinding from the day in complete and utter silence, and by the time I emerge from the shower I decide that I’ve had enough.

           “I’m gonna go stay with Elle and Derek,” I murmur as I zip up my suitcase and slip on my shoes.

           “Oh. O-Okay.”

           And that was that.

           It’s about an hour later when my phone is on four percent that I realize I hadn’t remembered to bring my charger with me. I contemplate just letting it die, but the idea of sitting through a seven-hour jet ride tomorrow without it sounds excruciating. Then again, so does the idea of having to suffer through an interaction with Spencer.

           The phone wins out in the end, and with Derek and Elle still snoring softly in their respective beds, I slip out of the room and into the hallway. With any luck, Spencer will be in a similar state and I’ll be able to sneak in and out without him waking up.

           I think thank my lucky stars when I slowly crack open the door to Spencer’s room and see that the lights are off. I take special care to close the door as quietly as possible before tiptoeing across the carpeted floors, feeling my way around in the dark so that I don’t trip over anything.

I make it halfway across the room when I hear it – it’s quiet, and if the air conditioner had been on, I wouldn’t have even heard it at all. It’s faint, so faint that I wonder if I’d imagined it, but then that same sound breaks through the silence and I know it’s not a product of my imagination.

I hear the covers rustle, and then a low moan followed by the distinct sound of skin on skin. My blood runs cold as the moans grow louder and more frequent, rolling off Spencer’s lips in rapid succession. There’s heavy breathing and whimpering and holy fuck I just walked in on Spencer Reid masturbating.

Spencer cries out a particularly load moan, one that sounds so pornographic that it shoots straight to my core. It’s sexy and dirty and he sounds absolutely wrecked, and the part of my brain that is still capable of logical thinking is screaming get out! Get out, now!

I begin to slowly backtrack, moving at one tenth of the speed that I had coming in because the possibility of being caught is absolutely not an option. If Spencer hates me now, he’d really hate me if he found out I snuck into his room at night and heard… that.

I’m about five feet away from the door when:

“O-Oh my God, yes! Y/N, please - fuck!”

I think then that I certainly have to be dreaming, because there’s no way I’d just heard him correctly. There’s no way that Spencer – the same Spencer that scurried out of the room when I walked in – was moaning my name while he touched himself. Absolutely not.

But then it happens again and again and again – my name falling from his lips incessantly like some kind of debauched chant.

It feels like my skin is on fire – my mind a befuddled mess – and before my brain can tell me what a terrible idea it is, my feet are carrying me back into the room and I’m coming to a stop at the foot of Spencer’s bed.

Bathed in the glow of the moonlight shining through the window, Spencer looks ethereal. There’s a thin line of sweat beading on his forehead, and his usually meticulously slicked back hair is fanned out on the pillow like some sort of halo. His teeth are nestled into his bottom lip now, and all that can be heard are tiny whimpers as his hand slides up and down underneath the bed sheets. Spencer’s always beautiful, almost painfully so. But the way he looks now, shadows dancing across his face as he works himself to orgasm, is infinitely more breathtaking than words can express.

It doesn’t take long for Spencer to release his lip from beneath his teeth, and when he does my name is flying out of his mouth once more.

I take that as my invitation to speak.

“I don’t think I’ve heard you say my name before.”

Spencer’s entire body stills and his eyes fly open to reveal two dark pools full of sheer panic.

“I-I can explain,” he stammers, moving to clutch the comforter to his chest in an attempt to cover himself.

I let out a hum and sit down on the edge of the bed.

“Please do. I’m very interested in hearing about just what you were picturing me doing.”

Spencer sucks in a harsh breath. I can practically see the wheels in his brain turning -desperately trying to concoct some kind of reasonable explanation.

“I-I… I don’t… I’m s-sorry,” he stutters, and it’s so adorable how he’s squirming underneath my gaze that I decide to help him out.

“Was I sucking you off? Or were you fucking me?” I wonder aloud. He tries to hide it, thinking the covers will mask the way that his hips buck up, but I definitely see it.

“I-I…”

“Which was it, Spencer? Was I taking you down my throat or were you fucking my pussy? Or maybe I was coming undone on your face – was that it?”

Spencer lets out a low groan, and if my patience hadn’t been running so fucking thin, I probably would’ve left it at that. But after the hell he’d put me through for the last six months, I feel like he deserved to squirm a little.

“Fucking answer me.”

“Y-You were, um… r-riding me. And you s-slapped m-me.”

Oh.

This just got a lot more interesting.

I raise an eyebrow at him and I can see the way his Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he gulps.

“So, you liked what you saw today, did you?”

Spencer nods so fervently that I have to bite down on my tongue to suppress a laugh.

“Words, baby. Use them.”

“I-I liked it. A lot.”

“Apparently so, seeing as you were moaning for it like a desperate little slut,” I breeze, my tone cool and indifferent. “Have you done this before, Doctor? Touched yourself to the thought of me, that is.”

“… Y-Yes. I’m s-sorry. I didn’t m-mean to. It just kind of happened one night, and once I started, I couldn’t s-stop.”

I reach out a hand and brush away the hair that had fallen into his face, tucking it back behind his ear before continuing.

“Why the cold shoulder, then? And here I thought you hated me,” I muse, before pausing and cocking my head to the side. “Do you hate me, Doctor?” I ask, and just when I thought he couldn’t look more guilty, he proves me wrong.

“No! I just… couldn’t be around you. I felt so b-bad. You were so nice, and I was using you to g-get off,” Spencer explains. “I couldn’t look you in the eye. Not after picturing you… like that.”

I let out a sigh. Knowing that Spencer didn’t actually hate me for the last six months was a relief. Knowing that Spencer was secretly rubbing one out to me was something else entirely. Whatever was I to do with this information?

“So, you want to fuck me, then?” I reiterate. “Why not tell me this sooner?”

“The probability of you responding positively to me telling you that I, uh, m-masturbate to you was very l-low. And after what I saw today, I think I was wise for keeping that from you,” Spencer says, the last part coming out in a rush. I can’t help but let out a low laugh.

“Yes, but the guy that was coming on to me today wasn’t someone I find attractive. He was pompous and crass and pushy - and you, Doctor Reid, are none of those things.”

“R-Really? You think I’m attractive?”

I hum.

“Very much so, Doctor. But I’m afraid you may have waited too long, and now I don’t feel as inclined to be nice,” I murmur, allowing my hand to trail down from his shoulder to his collar bones before lightly grazing his nipple with my thumb.

“O-Oh my… God,” Spencer whimpers, eyes fluttering shut as my fingers continue to dance across his skin.

“But then again, I don’t think you really want me to be nice to you. I think you want me to treat you like my little play thing.” I stop my hand just below his navel and I thumb across the light layer of hair that makes up his happy trail. “You want to be my dirty boy - don’t you, Doctor Reid?”

“P-Please,” Spencer chokes out, hips jerking up when I allow my thumb to graze a little lower.

“Please what?”

Spencer lets out a frustrated groan.

“Please, I-I want you to u-use me. However you want, just as l-long as you just do-don’t stop touching me,” he rambles. He’s shuddering underneath me, his breaths coming out in harsh pants as my hand wanders lower and lower until I abruptly pull away. “W-Why did you stop?”

“Because I don’t think you deserve to be touched just yet. You’ve got six months to make up to me, after all. I think I want you on your knees for me first,” I say, and from the way his eyes seem to dilate even further, I don’t think he has any objections. “Are you familiar with the color system?”

Spencer nods.

“Green for good, yellow means slow down, and red means stop now.”

“Do you have a safe word?”

“I… I’ve never really, uh. Done t-this.”

Oh. Oh.

I withdraw my hand from its place on his leg and Spencer lets out a distressed whine. “No, please! Don’t go. I’m not a complete virgin, I promise. I got a h-hand job once,” he argues. “And I think I’ve done enough, uh, research, and I really want to try to make you cum. I want to be good for you. Please let me try.”

Spencer looks like he’s about two seconds away from crying, and I can feel my argument dying before it even leaves my mouth.

“Oh, baby, I know you’d be so good,” I coo, and just like that Spencer’s leaning towards me, desperate to have the contact. I indulge him, placing my hand on his cheek, and he relaxes into the touch. “Are you sure you want to do this with me? I’m not what anyone would call vanilla, and I don’t think you know what you’re getting into.”

“I trust you. I wouldn’t want it to be anyone else,” Spencer whispers, and he sounds so damn sincere that I feel my resolve crumbling.

“You’ll let me know if at any point you want to stop?”

“Yes. Absolutely!”

Enthusiastic little shit.

“Safe word?”

“Um… Tolstoy?”

I let out a snort.

“Alright, smarty pants. We’re going to start now, okay?”

“Yes, Miss,” Spencer pants out.

Fuck me running. He clearly has been doing his research.

“Get on your knees for me, baby. I wanna see just how eager to please you are,” I instruct as I stand up and shimmy out of my shorts. I discard my shirt, too, absentmindedly throwing it somewhere across the room. Spencer lets out a startled squeak when he sees that I’m now completely naked, aside from my underwear.

“Y-You’re so pretty,” Spencer breathes out. “Even better than I imagined.”

The sentiment tugs at my heart, really, it does, but I specifically requested that he get on his knees and he seems a lot more content to just sit and stare.

“On your knees,” I command, and Spencer jumps up almost comically fast.

“S-Sorry, Miss,” he apologizes as he lowers himself down. I seat myself on the edge of the bed and spread my legs for him.

“Don’t apologize, just do as I ask of you, okay baby?”

Spencer nods.

“C-Can I kiss you? Like on the lips first?” Spencer asks as he looks up at me with big doe eyes. It’s a beautiful thing, the image of Spencer Reid sitting in between my legs, cheeks flushed and chest rapidly rising and falling. I give Spencer a sweet smile and lean forward, and the excitement radiating off of him is practically palpable. He leans forward, too eager to wait for me to close the gap, and the action makes my chest swell in adoration.

Just as our lips are about to meet, I pause, and Spencer barely has the time to look confused before my palm connects with the side of his face. The moan it draws out of him is obscene and his hips jolt forward, desperate for some kind of friction. His dick rests painfully hard between his legs, flushed red with precum beading at the tip.

I waste no time in taking his chin in my hand and tilting his head upwards.

“Did I say you could kiss me?” I ask him, voice sugary sweet, contrasting starkly with my actions.

“N-No, Miss. I’m sorry,” Spencer pants out. His hand twitches at his side and I can see how desperately he wants to touch himself, but his desire to please keeps him still.  

“Then the answer is no. Maybe if you can prove to me that you aren’t completely incompetent at eating pussy, I’ll consider it,” I allow a moment for my words to sink in. “Color?”

“Green. So fucking green,” Spencer whines.

“Good boy,” I praise him, and the effects of my words are instantaneous. Spencer rests his cheek against the skin of my thigh and then he’s nuzzling his face against me in a silent plea for permission. After a moment, his pleas become a lot less silent.

“Wanna be your good boy - please let me,” Spencer begs as his nose brushes against my skin. “I want to make you feel good. S’all I ever think about, since the first time I saw you.”

His words send a jolt of pleasure to my core and I reward his brazen honesty with a tender smile and a nod.

“Go ahead, baby. Let me see what that pretty mouth of yours can do.”

The words barely have time to leave my mouth before Spencer is reaching out and hooking a finger underneath the waistband of my panties. I raise up off the bed just enough for him to slide them down my legs, and before I even manage to settle back down onto the bed, Spencer literally dives in. He starts with one long lick, and by the time he reaches my clit he’s crying out lewd moans against me. The feel of the vibrations mixed with the feel of his mouth on me is maddening in the best possible way, and my eyelids threaten to flutter closed under the weight of my pleasure.

“Fuck, baby – you’re doing so good,” I sigh as I lift my hand up and card my fingers through his hair. “You look so pretty on your knees for me.”

Spencer’s movements stutter when he feels my hand tangle itself into his hair, and I let out a light chuckle. I grab hold of the roots and give an experimental tug. My actions cause his hips to jolt forward violently.

“O-Oh my…” Spencer keens, raising his glossy, lust filled eyes to mine. “H-Harder, please.”

I oblige, and Spencer lets out a particularly filthy groan before lapping at my pussy like a man possessed. His hands come to wrap around my thighs and he pulls me closer to him, causing me to let out a gasp when his nose nudges against my clit. The sound only spurs him on further – Spencer begins assaulting my clit, alternating between short, kitten licks and light sucking. The control I had so adamantly been asserting over him began to slip from my fingertips the longer he worked his mouth against me, and quiet, breathy moans started falling from my lips.

“Such a good boy, Spence,” I moan as I scratch my fingernails against his scalp. “You’re making me feel so good, baby. Love that dirty little mouth of yours.”

Spencer thrives on the praise – that much is made obvious by the way he whimpers and tightens his grip on my thighs. He’s completely submitted himself to the act of getting me off, only stopping long enough to cry out when my hands give a particularly harsh tug on his hair.

“Add a finger, baby,” I tell him, allowing my hand to drift down the side of his face, caressing the sharp angles of his cheekbones.

Spencer releases my thigh from his hold and tentatively raises a hand to my entrance, eyes raising to meet mine.

“You’ll tell me if I do something wrong?” he asks, and his concern is so endearing that I tilt his chin upwards and lean forward until my lips meet his.

Spencer gasps into the kiss, shocked, but it doesn’t take him long before his lips are moving against mine fervently. His lips are slick with my arousal, and I dart my tongue out just long enough to swipe it across his bottom lip.

           “D’you like how I taste, baby?” I murmur against his lips, pulling back slightly when Spencer tries to bring his lips down against mine.

           “S-So much,” he whispers, before letting out a frustrated groan when I tease him with the slightest brush of my lips before pulling away again. “P-Please, kiss me again.”

           I bump my nose against his before I reach down and grab his hand in mine.

           “Don’t be a greedy boy, Spencer. Greedy boys don’t get to cum,” I chastise him as I raise his hand up to my mouth. I trace my bottom lip with his pointer finger as Spencer watches on in rapt fascination, before taking the digit into my mouth and sucking. Spencer chokes out a pathetic cry and his hips hopelessly buck into the air as I swirl my tongue around the pad of his finger, taking special care to coat it with spit before releasing it from my mouth.

           I guide his hand back down to my pussy, gasping when the tip of his finger brushes across my entrance.

           “Just take it slow, baby. Start with one and move up to two once you get the hang of it.”

           Spencer nods, eyes alternating between my face and my entrance as he slowly slides his finger in me.

           “You’re so warm, oh my God,” Spencer breathes out, tentatively pulling out his finger before inserting it back in. I hum appreciatively as he begins to move faster, eyelids fluttering shut when he lowers his head and begins languidly licking my clit.

           “Feels so nice, Spence. I fucking love your fingers. Knew that they’d feel like this. I can only imagine how good your cock will feel,” I ramble, one hand fisted in the sheets and the other tugging on his honey brown hair.

           I groan as he inserts a second finger, reveling in the way he’s stretching me out.

           “Curl your fingers when you – fuck! Just like that, baby. Gonna make me cum if you keep doing t-that.”

Spencer speeds up both the onslaught of his fingers and his mouth at my admission, tongue working figure eights on my clit while his fingers brush up against my g-spot. A familiar warmth starts to spread in my lower belly, and with every swipe of Spencer’s tongue against my clit, the coil in my stomach winds tighter and tighter until, finally:

“O-Oh, fuck, Spence!”

The coil snaps, sending jolts of pleasure straight through my core. I can feel the way my walls tighten around Spencer’s fingers as my orgasm rips through me, never stopping their ministrations in an attempt to help me ride out my high. Vibrations ripple across my clit when Spencer lets out a cry of his own before his movements halt completely as shudders wrack his body.

I know he didn’t just…

           I allow myself a moment to recover before I lean forward and drag my eyes down Spencer’s slender frame – and sure enough, his tummy is covered in white ropes of cum and his now softening cock is hanging limply between his legs.

           Spencer’s eyes reluctantly open when his shudders cease, and one look at my pissy expression is enough to send him into a fit.

           “I-I didn’t mean to cum! I’m so sorry, Miss. It’s j-just that you looked so pretty when you came, and you taste so good! And you were pulling my hair, and you called me a good boy and I just couldn’t do it anymo-”

           “Shut up,” I seethe, voice cold and laced with annoyance. Spencer’s mouth snaps shut and he gulps. “Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t remember saying that you were allowed to come. Am I mistaken?”            “N-No, Miss.”

           “Mm, that’s what I thought,” I hum. “Stand up.”

           “B-But I want to make you cum again! Can I plea-”

           “Shut the fuck up and stand up, Spencer.”

           Spencer rushes to his feet, stumbling a bit when his legs begin to shake. He corrects himself, standing perfectly still in front of me with a shameful look on his face. I scoot back on the bed and fix him with a stony look.

           “I want you to lay on your stomach across my lap. Can you do that, Doctor Reid, or are you too stupid to follow simple directions?”

           Spencer adamantly shakes his head, scrambling to splay out across my bare thighs. Once he’s comfortable, I raise a palm to his bare ass cheek and smooth my hand across the skin.

           “Color?”

           “G-Green,” Spencer stutters out.

           “Wonderful. Since you’ve decided to be a greedy little slut and cum before I gave you permission, I’m going to punish you. Do you remember your safe word, baby?”

           “Tolstoy.”

           “Good boy. I’m going to give you ten, and I want you to count them out for me. One for every month you held out on me, and four because you’re an insolent little whore who can’t do as he’s told. Does that sound fair to you?”

           “Y-Yes, Miss. P-Please.”

           A harsh smack sounds throughout the room, and Spencer lets out a whorish moan that’s bound to wake the people in the neighboring rooms. The pale skin of his ass transforms to red, and I rub my palm across it soothingly.

           “O-One,” Spencer says through gritted teeth as he rocks his hips against my legs.

           “You okay, baby?”

           “Y-Yes, Miss. Please don’t stop. I deserve it. P-Punish me, please.”

           My palm comes down across his ass four more times, and with each strike I watch Spencer fall apart right before my eyes. Tears are gliding down his flushed cheeks, and his cock is now painfully hard against my legs.

           “Five more to go, baby. Keep counting for me, my pretty boy.”

           By the time my hand comes down against his flesh for the final time, Spencer has devolved into a mess of pathetic whimpers. His cock is smearing precum across my thighs as he rocks against me, and his ass is covered in a litany of bright red marks. Incomprehensible pleas are falling from his lips, and his hands are tightly fisted in the sheets.

           I lean forward and place a gentle kiss to each of his battered cheeks.

           “T-Thank you, Miss. Thank you, thank you, thank you…”

           “You’re welcome, baby. Can you go lay in the center of the bed for me?”

           Spencer gives a feeble nod and crawls to the center of the bed, carefully laying himself down and letting out a low hiss when his ass came in contact with the mattress.

           I let him rest against the sheets before I roll over and settle in between his legs.

           Spencer’s cock, painfully hard and leaking precum, sits against his belly. Spencer watches as I trace lithe fingers up his thigh, his chest rising and falling quickly as I get closer to where he demands my attention.

           A garbled groan rips from his throat when my hand grasps his cock, and I have to place my other hand on his hip and force him back down onto the bed when he tries to buck up.

           “Stay still, baby,” I tut as I drag my fist up and down at an agonizingly slow pace.

           “S-Sorry, M-Miss,” Spencer stutters. His brows are drawn together and his eyes are heavy lidded. “Need m-more, please.”

           “Mm, I don’t think you need more. You just want more. Dumb little greedy baby,” I tease as my thumb swipes across his head.

           “Oh… G-God, please!” Spencer mewls.

           “Is what I’m giving you not good enough?”

           “N-No, it’s just-”

           I raise an eyebrow at him and halt my movements.

           “No, it isn’t good enough?”

           Spencer lets out a frustrated groan and his fists clench the sheets.

           “P-Please, Miss! I’ll be your good boy, I promise. Just let me cum, please, I want it so bad!”

           Thoroughly pleased by his shameless begging, I start moving my hand again.

           “Let me know when you’re about to cum, baby.”

           That moment comes when, not thirty seconds later, the muscles in Spencer’s abdomen start to spasm – telltale signs of an impending orgasm. Spencer is so lost in the way my hand is moving against his cock that he makes no move to warn me, and just as I see his eyes start to flutter shut, I withdraw my hand.

           “W-Why did yo-”

           “You didn’t tell me you were about to cum. I thought you said you were going to be a good boy, Spencer? You sure aren’t acting like someone who wants to cum.”

           “S-Sorry, please, just… fuck!”

           Spencer’s whole-body folds in on itself when my mouth wraps around the head of his cock. I swirl my tongue around the tip, lapping up the precum that had gathered before I pull away.

           “You’ve got such a pretty cock, baby. Can’t believe nobody’s had you in their mouth yet,” I murmur, pausing to drag my tongue along the veiny underside of his erection. “Let me hear you, baby. Wanna know how much you like when I use my mouth on you.”

           “Love it so much, oh God… Feels so warm and wet. Thank you so much, Miss. God, it feels perfect,” Spencer keens as I take him into my mouth again. Mumbled praises fall from his lips as I take him deeper, and the second my nose hits the soft skin of his belly, Spencer’s hand comes up and begins to tap incessantly on my shoulder.

           “S-Stop! I-I’m close – Jesus Christ, I’m so fucking close and I really want to cum inside you, i-if that’s okay with you,” Spencer babbles, eyes wide and pleading. I smile up at him.

           “Do you think you deserve to cum in my pussy?”

           “H-Honestly, no, but I’m hoping you’ll let me anyways,” Spencer says, shooting me an adorably shy smile that has my heart doing somersaults in my chest. I let out a light laugh and shake my head, moving to straddle his lap.

           “Are you sure you want to do this, Spence?” I murmur as I caress the side of his face with my hands. “This can stop right here, if you want it to.”

           “Please, Miss. I want this. I want you,” Spencer reiterates, eyes shining and filled to the brim with adoration.

           “Want you, too, baby. You can call me my name now, if you want,” I say as I place a gentle kiss on his lips. I move to pull away, but Spencer’s hand is quick to grasp the back of my neck and pull me back in.

           While our lips move together, frenzied and desperate, I sneak a hand in between our bodies and grab Spencer’s cock. He gasps into my mouth as I drag his head in between my folds.

           “I-I won’t last long,” Spencer chokes out, eyes trained on where I’m rubbing him against me. “I’ll try my b-best, but I’m sorry if I c-cum too fast.”

           I sink down just enough that his head is the only thing inside me, watching as his face contorts beautifully as a result.

           “Don’t worry about me, baby. Tonight’s all about you.”

           With one last, chaste kiss to his lips, I slowly begin to lower myself down onto his length. The sound of our moans fill the room as Spencer clings desperately to me, hands finally finding purchase on my hips.

           “Y/N, fuck, you feel so good,” Spencer whimpers as I begin to slowly rock against him. “I-I knew it would feel good, but oh my God. I-I can’t… I’m gonna cum, soon. M’so sorry.”

           His admission prompts me to move faster, raising my hips until he’s almost completely out of me before I’m slamming back down.

           “Spence, you feel so good. Such a good boy – my good boy.”

           “Yes, yes, I’m all yours! Only yours, please!” Spencer whines. I lean forward, and the change of angle is enough for both of us to cry out.

           “Are you gonna be a good boy and cum for me, Spence?” I murmur into his ear, biting lightly against his earlobe. “I want you to cum in me, baby. Don’t you want to be my good boy?” I punctuate my words by lightly wrapping my hand around this throat and squeezing, and that’s all it takes for Spencer to completely fall apart underneath me. 

           “Y/N - fuck!”

           Spencer’s grip on my hips tightens as he bucks up into me, painting the inside of my pussy with his cum as he yells out strangled exclamations of my name. He presses his face into my shoulder as I ride him through his orgasm, whispering quiet thank yous and pressing open mouthed kisses to my skin as the euphoria floods through his body.

             I place a kiss to his forehead before I crawl off of him, having every intention of getting up and procuring a wet washrag. But Spencer reaches out to grip my arm, and his eyes look so sad that I stop in my tracks.

           “C-Can you stay? Please?”

           The insecurity in his voice tugs at my heart.

           “Of course, I’m staying. Was just gonna get a wet washrag for us. M’not gonna leave you, Spence,” I murmur. Spencer visibly untenses, but his grip on my arm doesn’t lessen.

           “Could you just stay here a little bit longer?”

           “Sure thing, baby,” I say, prompting Spencer’s lips to pull up into a pleased smile. I crawl back into the bed and lay on my back, and Spencer instantly plasters himself to my side. He hums contentedly as he wraps his arms around me, and I let out a light laugh when I catch him stealing glances at me.

           “What is it, baby?”

           A rosy blush spreads across his cheeks.

           “Can I kiss you?”

           After everything we just did, he still feels the need to ask permission to kiss me. What a sweet boy.

           My answer comes in the form of me pressing my lips to his, and that’s how we stay until he pulls away.

           “I have another question,” he says shyly.

           “Lay it on me, baby.”

           The blush on his cheeks gets significantly more pronounced.

           “It’s just that, uh, you didn’t get to cum again. And I really want you to, because you took such good care of me,” Spencer pauses, and his fingertips lightly graze the inside of my thigh. “C-Could I please eat you out again?” Another pause, and he retracts his hand. “I-It’s okay if not. I understand if you just wanted this to be… a one-time thing. I guess I was just kind of hoping that it w-wouldn’t be. But that’s silly – you were just doing me a favor. I’m sorry I asked.”

           Spencer cringes as he finishes speaking, not even giving me a chance to reply before he’s trying to pull away. I tighten my grip on his arm, and Spencer gives me a weary look.

           “First of all, I don’t think I would ever say no to being eaten out – especially if you’re the one offering. Second, this is definitely not a one off. I have lots of plans for you, pretty boy,” I explain, and the relief that radiates off of Spencer is almost palpable.

           “Thank God,” he sighs, and then he’s scooting down the bed and settling in between my legs.

--

           And if the rest of the team notices the way Spencer starts following me around like a lost puppy - well, they’re all kind enough not to point it out.

[yesimwriting]

Would you write a Kaz Brekker request where the reader is a bookworm and a crow and basically Kaz asks the reader to read to him as his way of apologizing after a argument that was his fault?

 it ​​a/n i did something kinda similar in a 'promise of rain' blurb,, but this concept is so cute to me:)) love it sm i moved it up my request cue lol

also IM IN COLLEGE NOW!! WHAT?? AND IVE BEEN TO A PARTY! AND IM JOINING A SORORITY AND I DID DRAMA AUDITIONS AND AHH !! SO DIFFERENT! I MISS MY MOM AND SISTER AND DOG AND EVEN MY DAD BUT IM HAPPY HERE!! 

also im a little worried this might not portray kaz superrrrr accurately bc it's been awhile so just let me know,, feedback leads to improvement:)) also kinda set this up for a part 2 bc...well youll see 

--

They've always said a lot of things about him, and I've always heard them. But I've never quite believed them. Sure, I get why the dark things that have flourished in the poisoned soil that is Ketterdam consider Kaz Brekker the darkest thing of all. I understand the nickname 'Dirtyhands' for the gloved criminal who has fooled each crime boss at least once. I understand each terrible thing they've said about him.

But I've never agreed with them. I've never even considered agreeing with them. Until today.

The thought that maybe everything people say about him is correct in a simple context struck me worse than the silence after our argument. It made me feel like both a fool and hypocrite. Kaz and I have had our fair share of spats over the relatively short time we've known each other, but never like this. Never so badly he stormed out of the room before I could. I squeeze the book in my lap even harder, desperate to focus on the words on the pages.

You didn't hurt him. He walked away because he decided you weren't worth the cost of his expensive time. I repeat those thoughts in my mind over and over again, letting them bitter me further. It's a lot easier to be mad than hurt. A lot easier to fuel your pain than try to understand your mistakes. Besides, tiredness is already dredging around in my chest and if I don't calm down a little I won't be able to fall asleep.

I had escalated the fight more than I should have. Knowing Kaz is like performing in a tightrope act. One must always be aware of where they're going. Watching what's in front of them without ever thinking too much about what's beneath or behind them. Today though, when I needed my balance most I chose to fall. I chose to dive, and apparently there was no net.

"Oh, you're doing that thing."

I roll my eyes at Jesper's voice as I fight down a yawn. I wipe my face with the back of my palm before turning. The burning behind my eyes never resulted in full tears, but I feel better after doing so. "What thing?"

"That terribly noble thing where you find it in yourself to take full blame for every single conflict you and boss man fall into." The slight humor in his voice is enough for me to roll my eyes again. "Between you and me, I'm sure the reason he's so angry now is because you didn't do that for once."

I press my lips together as my chin angles itself upwards slightly. "I never do that." He raises an eyebrow. The slight sympathy that colors the look is more offensive than his accusation. "If I pick and choose my battles, it's for good reason."

"Clearly."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He shrugs once before further entering my room. I say nothing when he sits at the foot of my bed. "Oh, you know," Jesper stretches back casually, resting his back against the wall and extending his legs, "You and Kaz--Kaz and you."

Has he been drinking? Perhaps he's not here because of my unusual absence from downstairs after my fight with Kaz but because he's already too tipsy to think right. "What?"

At my confused look he grins, flashing all of his teeth with an arrogance that outshines the whiteness of them. He taps the still open book in my lap. "Let me put it in terms you'll understand." Jesper sits up a little further, amusement clear in his features. "You two make a shameful Elizabeth and Darcy--"

"Oh, shut up," I groan, glaring at him, "This isn't Pride and Prejudice. And Kaz and I," Jesper's smugness returns when I can't quite think of what I want to say, "We're barely friends--we're barely anything, let alone what you're implying."

Jesper pulls his legs up and shoves me gently. "Dearest, y/n," he ignores my glare, "You should know better than anyone that 'barely friends, barely anything' with Kaz is more than it is with anyone else?"

"That doesn't mea--"

"You two say goodnight to each other." Once. Kaz and I said good night to each other in front of Jesper once. How dare he assume it happens regularly? He's right, but that doesn't mean I'm okay with it. "You play cards with him. Not for money, not for skill--"

"It's for practice." The look Jesper gives me is enough to tell me that my defense didn't land.

Damn him for ever finding Kaz and I on one of those strange nights. One of those nights in which he lurks at the stairwell...the one that divides my room and his attic. One of those nights in which it feels like he's a phantom and I'm the only one that can really see him. A night in which we both silently find each other.

I couldn't quite believe it the first time it happened. I'm not exactly a Crow--I don't feel enough a connection to the Dregs to join them without some kind of guarantee--but I was needed for some obscure job. but I was needed for some obscure job. The Crows needed an insider who could blend into high society, and I needed a place to stay away from my father.

It worked. I worked. And with each passing day I found myself enjoying the Crows more and more. That's why I stayed. That's why I started checking the stairwell practically every night, a set of playing cards in my hand.

The first time had been awkward. I couldn't sleep and my room felt too quiet, but the rambunctious club felt too loud and a little unsafe considering the hour. So I settled for the only space in between. When Kaz found me sitting on the steps and playing a solitary card game I had been so stunned by embarrassment I just offered to deal him in. I had been more shocked when he silently accepted my offer.

"Practice?" Jesper repeats. "You were laughing, I heard you."

"That was one time--how do you know we didn't just happen to play cards together the one time you saw it?"

"Because you laughed about a play you considered 'predictable'."

Sighing, I sit up a little straighter. "I'm not having this conversation. Occasionally saying 'goodnight' to someone who lives in the same space I live in and sometimes playing cards with said person because we both happen to be up at a certain time doesn't mean anything."

"And the way he looked at the contact that was flirting with you?"

Oh...this conversation again. "For the last time, the contact wasn't flirting with me. We had to dance to blend in and when he leaned towards me to whisper in my ear...it was to tell me the intel Kaz just had to have."

"And when he tucked that strand of hair behind your ear?"

"He just wanted to sell our cove--"

"Y/n, he kissed your cheek and I'm fairly certain he would have kissed you if Kaz and I hadn't made it to the corridor at that second."

Why is everyone so obsessed with what would have never happened? The contact had been attractive, tall with fair eyes and hair. But it's not like I feel anything for him, nor would I have been so foolish during a job. A fact that Kaz refuses to believe. I'm tired of this argument...I'm just tired. This job required me to start getting ready early in the morning and lasted long into the night.

"I wouldn't have kissed him and even if I had, the fact that Kaz is so mad about feels...sexist." A stupid argument, considering that Kaz couldn't care less if the person he's working with is female, male, or anything in between because the only thing he cares about is profit. "It's a stupid thing to be mad about, but you hit on anything with a pulse at any time and--"

"I resent that--"

"For the first two weeks I was here I thought you might've been a prostitute."

I can feel him holding in a laugh. "Did you at least think I was a good prostitute?" When I glare again, he finally actually laughs. "Not the point--got it."

"Then what is the point? You're bored and obsessed with gossip so now you're shaking me for information you don't need."

"The point is you're oblivious." Rude...I move my leg in a weak attempt to push him off my bed. Jesper catches my ankle easily, ignoring my attempt at a fight. "You thought the contact was only doing his job and you don't know the real reason that Kaz blew up at you for the first time the way he blows up at everyone."

"Okay, well since you know everything, tell me why he's mad."

He lets out a sigh like he can't believe I even needed to ask that. "It's not the best look that the first time you let him pick a fight with you happens to be about some guy."

...Maybe he is drunk? "Don't be so cryptic. I don't like you enough to put up with that."

Jesper half-sighs again before pushing himself off my bed. "I'm going to pretend I think you're smart enough to piece things together from that."

"Asshole," I mumble instinctually as he walks towards my door. "Are you not telling me because I tried to push you off the bed?"

He turns when he reaches my door in order to lean against my door frame. "It's not not because of that." I should throw my book at his head. "In all seriousness, think about it. If you don't you'll either kill each other or kill me."

Ugh...he's so confusing. This time, I let him go. He leaves he door open, which is beyond annoying. I stand up to close it, promising myself I will focus on my book the second it's in my hands again. As I walk back towards my bed, my eyes land on the deck of cards on my nightstand.

Does it send a signal I don't want to send if I don't go the stairwell tonight? Do I want to send a signal? I don't know...actually, the only thing I know is that I don't want to think about this a second longer. I don't ease as I read, but my eyelids become heavier with each word they cross. I feel the weight of them as my focus slips, farther and farther away until I can no longer focus. When my eyes fall shut I can't bring myself to think or force them open.

--

I notice my surprised before I register that I've just woken up. Falling asleep feels so far and yet the crick in my neck confirms the obvious. Rubbing the eyes with the back of my hand, I push my book from my lap and sit up. The only indication of how much time has passed is how much my bedside candle has melted.

How long have I been asleep? How did I manage to fall asleep? I thought I was too mad at Kaz to manage anything but pouting in my room. I hadn't even decided if I wanted to talk to him.

I stand even though I haven't decided anything. I should at least change if I want to go to bed. But is leaving this alone for even longer a bad idea? I think Jesper thought so...though my conversation with him is far from clear. It's not the best look that the first time you let him pick a fight with you happens to be about some guy. I'm going to pretend I think you're smart enough to piece things together from that. What does he want me to do with that?

Maybe he was partially intoxicated and felt the need to play the role of a good friend. Or maybe this is his idea of a joke.

Whatever--regardless of Jesper, I have a choice to make. A tiny part of me hopes it's insignificant, but I know Kaz enough to know that nothing is insignificant to him. He holds onto things the way he holds onto his kruge. Perhaps I'll seek out Inej, she seems to be the best at rationalizing. Though she might be asleep by now, or on a job or...I don't even know.

How late is it? Is it late enough to be one of the few hours Kaz claims to reserve for sleep? Maybe my bad luck is still around and he's already in bed for once. Does that mean his anger will extend to tomorrow?

I shouldn't care. It's not like I'm in the wrong. Did I escalate things? Maybe a little...but I won't apologize for defending myself. Even though that makes everything a little easier. I feel stuck, like in some kind of place of half sleep. A single knock at my door is enough to make me want to jump. I rub my eyes a little more firmly in hopes of waking up more before someone sees me.

I approach the door without worry. Maybe it's not as late as I assumed. Or maybe it's really early? I open the door while still fighting against my slight disorientation. I'm so focused on acting normal, I almost don’t register the person standing at my door. 

I don’t know who I expected, or what--maybe Jesper, much more tipsy than he was before, slumped against the doorframe, only knocking because he’s too tired to push the door open. Maybe even Inej, on her way here to deliver some kind of job or notice of dismissal. But it’s nothing I could expect. It’s...Kaz. 

The Dirtyhands stands at my door, expression as hard as ever yet something behind his eyes that burns the sleep away from me. “Uh--hi.” I bite my tongue to avoid cringing at that very awkward beginning. “Are you here to kick me out yourself?” The only response I get is the slightest shift of his gaze off of my face. “No? Well then I think I’m going to bed. It’s late.” 

My tone and words are clear. Get out of my doorway, I’m in no mood to go back to arguing.  When he still doesn’t say anything, I’m emboldened by my nerves. I push the door between us without breaking eye contact. 

Before the wood can meet the doorframe, he moves his cane, wedging it between us. “Y/n.” I don’t understand the way he says my name, but I’m certain he’s never said it like that. “I...” When he’s not prompted by the uncomfortableness of silence, I raise an eyebrow, my grip on the door tightening. “What I said shouldn’t have been said.” Wait--is he admitting fault? I’m so thrown I almost melt entirely. “Not to you.” 

The addition leaves him so lowly a part of me wonders if I’ve imagined it. I’m so thrown by it I don’t even think to reply until a long second has passed. “You seemed to believe the opposite a few hours ago.” 

His lips press together for a moment. “You didn’t ask me to play cards tonight.” He took that as intentional? At least that got me some kind of apology? I keep my mouth shut, greed making me want more information. I guess he must sense my silent tugging because he head inclines slightly. “Don’t push.” 

I fight down a grin. “Push what?” His only response to stiffen further. “I’m going to tell you something as a peace offering.” That seems to intrigue him in some way. I can’t tell if it’s a good kind of interested, but I note the slight raise of his eyebrows and his intentional silence. “I didn’t chose not to ask you to play cards.” He gives me no indication of anything, which is fair...considering my vagueness. “I was mad, obviously, and in the middle of deciding on a course of action...and then I fell asleep.” 

A long pause of silence. “You fell asleep?” 

I’m not sure if his incredulous tone should offend me or not. If I wanted to lie, I’d like to think he knows me well enough to know that I’d have thought of a better excuse than that. Or at least a less embarrassing one. “Yes, it’s not that difficult to believe. Today had been long and all I wanted to do was read, but then Jesper came in to say the oddest things and then leave me to...” 

Oh--oh. I guess there’s a reason people say to ‘sleep on’ something. Because now, actively remembering Jesper’s words for the first time since I fell asleep...I understand what Jesper was implying in the oddest way possible. He meant that Kaz and I...that perhaps there is a Kaz and I in a context that’s more than just grammatical. Wow. I really had to realize this with Kaz right in front of me. 

My face feels warmer than it did before, an irrational bout of anxiety forcing me to consider that me might be able to read impossible, embarrassing thoughts from my expression alone. 

“What did Jesper say?” I’m too lost in my own spiral of confusion and panic and some feeling I can’t recognize to register how Kaz asks his question. There’s an edge to it, an odd one, but that could easily just be Kaz. 

This is most definitely the last conversation we need to be having. I’m still mad at him for his earlier dramatics. So I just shake my head, feigning an exhaustion I could lose myself in. “Nothing and everything all at once.” I resist the urge to rub my eyes again. “I’m pretty sure he was drinking, and I wasn’t really listening. I was just trying to read.” 

Kaz’s expression hardens briefly as he takes in my words, and then he exhales, nodding once with the breath. “What were you reading?” 

My lips part instinctually, ready to spew off details about the latest novel that’s captured my attention. But before I can let myself take off, the reality of the situation strikes me directly in the chest. This is not Nina, or Inej, or even Jesper after what he considers a ‘good night’. This is Kaz Brekker, the man believed to not have a soul. I’ve spoken to him before about casual things, though most of the nights in which we end up playing cards or just sitting near each other are spent in silence. But he’s never prompted me before. Not in the one topic he knows is guaranteed to turn me into an overenthusiastic, gushing fountain of poor summaries and character analysis. 

I guess this is his peace offering. This shouldn’t warm the way it does. He was still unbelievably dramatic and treated me like I’m some kind of unreliable fool. “It’s late, and you know how I can be. I’d hate to keep you for nothing more than a poor summary and honestly, an embarrassing rant about plot or characters, because there’s just nothing as frustrating as when two people so clearly care about each other and both are too stubborn and oblivious to acknowledge it.” 

Kaz’s eyebrows draw together just enough for me to be able to make out a shift of expression in the poor light. Perhaps his lingering irritation is preparing to rear its ugly head. The corner of his mouth seems to threaten to tilt upwards as Kaz angles his head to the side slightly. “I can’t imagine that position.” 

No kidding. I bite my tongue to keep the sarcastic comment and awkward laugh that would sure follow it away. “Who can? That’s like half the point of reading.” 

How can interaction feel so over and just at its beginning all at once? I press my lips together to avoid filling the silence with things I’d no doubt instantly regret. It’s easy to be mad at Kaz in the moment. Too easy. But to stay mad at him when his temper has passed and he returns with some kind of begrudging and admittedly awkward and uncertain truce is another task entirely. 

“I’ve never understood your attachment to written words.” 

“It’s not about understanding, it’s about everything else.” 

“And you say I’m cryptic.” Is he...kinda almost joking? I straighten my spine, too tired to fight and too wounded to forgive. “There’s understanding in everything, nothing can survive on sentiment alone.” 

“If you read the way I did, you’d understand.” 

His lips press together as his expression remains unwavering in its hardness. “Read to me.” 

...Interacting with Kaz in any way often leaves me feeling like I’m wandering through unknown territory. But this, this is undeniably different. So different I can’t even think of a way to react. I watch his expression as cautiously as possible. He’s purely reserved, no distinction from the look he wears during business propositions. Except there’s a tightness I can’t quite understand.

Maybe it’s because I don’t want to fight anymore. Maybe it’s because exhaustion is leaving me partially delirious. Or maybe it’s the weird feeling in my chest that I can’t quite place. That I don’t want to place. “Okay.” I shift carefully. “If for no other reason then to prove you wrong.” 

Never did I think I’d end up in the position of sitting in my bed, book in hand, with Kaz Brekker sitting next to me. But here we are. I’m so tired, I almost let out a nervous laugh when he first walked in. So brooding and tall, gripping the head of his head cane as he sits at the foot of my bed, on my pastel quilt. 

I’m glad for the excuse to keep my gaze away from him and on the words in front of me. I read out loud, feeling more and more comfortable with each page I finish. But as my inhibitions slip away, so dos my hold on consciousness. My eyelids seem to grow heavier with each word that I read. 

“You’re falling asleep.” 

I straighten my spine on instinct. “Am not.” I’m not sure why I feel the need to deny something so simple. 

“You’re impossible.” 

From him, that statement is laugh worthy. “I’m impossible? Do you not remember earlier today?” 

From the way his jaw locks, I realize that he’s in no mood to be light about this topic. I don’t understand why. It’s not like I’m the one that wronged him. “I remember your lack of focus.” 

Keeping my hands at my side to avoid rubbing my eyes, I frown. “If you want to have this argument again, fine. Jesper is more ‘distracted’ than me half the time and you’re much more lenient on him. It’s not like I was flirting with someone or gambling or doing anything but having a two second conversation. One that I needed to have to get information that you wanted.” 

The last time we fought, I had more energy to restrain myself. This could be atomic. I hold my breath, waiting for Kaz’s retaliation. He exhales, eyes not meeting mine. “Arguing with you when you’re present is exhausting enough. It’s not worth it when you’re half asleep.” 

This angers me further. I hate that he’s right. “I’m not half asleep.” He leaves it at that. I glare even harder at him, slumping further into my bed. “But for the sake of argument, I’ll drop it. Something you’re incapable of doing.” 

At that, his eyes meet mine. I try to hold his gaze, but the harder I think about not seeming tired the more exhaustion slips in. A yawn escapes me before he looks away. Great. “I know when to lie in the grass in wait.” 

Rolling my eyes, I shift back slightly. He’s incapable of being less dramatic than this. Still, I can’t imagine the effort it’s taking on his part to not start an argument. Maybe this is why Jesper spent so long implying that there may be a Kaz and I in any capacity beyond a vague kind of friendship. “I’ll admit you’re tactful.”

“Resourceful people recognize that trait in other people.” 

Blinking twice, I lower my book slightly. Am I truly exhausted, or did he just compliment me in a way? “Careful, I may start to think you find me tolerable.” 

“Let’s not exaggerate.” Okay, now I know I’m exhausted because I think he might have just attempted a joke. Rolling my eyes, I decide not to acknowledge this lightness in fear that I’ll scare it away. “Y/n?” 

I press my lips together, worried about the destruction of our peace. “Yes?” 

“What did Jesper say to you? Earlier?” I pause, slightly unsure why we’re moving backwards. 

We’re in a decent place now, and I’d hate to ruin it. I’m too half asleep to lie eloquently. And it’s not like he’s an easily convinced man. “Oh, he said it so cryptically it took me longer than it should have to understand. And it didn’t help that it was something so...well, you might find it funny. As funny as you find anything, anyways.” Wow...I’ve spent such a long time talking. Rubbing the back of my eyes, I avoid his gaze. Exhaustion and awkwardness mix in my stomach oddly. “It seemed like he was trying to imply that you and I...me and you...” Why is this a difficult thing to say? It’s not like I was implying it and Jesper’s known for his oddness. “I think Jesper was implying that there was a you and I, or at least that there could be.” I’m too lost in a haze of almost sleep to watch his reaction. I let my head rest against my headboard even further. “Isn’t that odd?” 

He’s quiet for a long second, and then he finally speaks again. “Odd, even for Jesper.” The response doesn’t satiate me...what’s that about? I exhale, deciding that feeling is tomorrow’s problem. When I blink, I decide to let my eyes stay closed. Just for a moment. The sound of something shifting is what makes my eyes squint open. Kaz is standing, his expression unreadable as he straightens. “Goodnight, y/n.” 

At that, I sit up slightly, ignoring the exhaustion behind my eyes. “I haven’t finished the chapter.” 

“You’ve convinced me of enough.” A concession? How exhausted do I seem? My lips press together as I think of my next argument. Before I can get it out, Kaz leans forward. He grabs the quilt at the end of my bed and tosses it onto my legs casually. “Goodnight, y/n.” The meaning of his repetition is clear. His word is final. 

I find enough energy to manage a glare, but I pull the quilt over my legs anyways. “Goodnight, Kaz.”

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Rainy Afternoon- Klaus Hargreeves x reader

Summary: It’s supposed to be movie night, though Klaus always seems to change that in one way or another.

Warning: fluff, smut mentions

Masterlist

Klaus gently grabbed your shoulders, his face inches from yours as he looks deeply into your eyes, “We’re watching Twilight.” He says softly in the most gentle and sweetest of voices, like he telling you he loves you for the first time or something of the sort.

You let out an amused snort, “No, we are not.” The words leaving your lips bluntly and with as much enthusiasm as a stick.

Laying sprawled out on yours and Klaus’ shared apartment bed, your eyes trailing over the chipped white ceiling as your cuddly man hugs your torso. You couldn’t feel happier or more loved right now in this very moment while a storm rages against the window.

It’s about three in the afternoon and the clouds don’t seem to want to move, nor does the sky appear to remain keen on halting its assault of never ending water droplets onto the city below. But that’s all well and fine with you and Klaus on this lazy Thursday.

So far the two of you have half successfully baked a chocolate cake and eaten mostly all of it for your breakfast/lunch like the health conscious adults you are. Then for almost two hours you both danced around the apartment like wild hoodlums, making sure to push all the furniture aside for safety and to better show off your fantastical dancing skills. After that rush of excitement and heavy physical activity, you both stuck your heads out the window to let the soft pattering of the rain cool you two off.

Once that was done, Klaus dragged your bum to the bedroom for some kisses and a needed cuddle session now resulting in the two of you laying in your casual positioning for the time being. The only sounds to be heard is the pouring of the rain outside and Klaus’ dramatic sighing he does when he wants your attention.

Though you’re trying to ignore it just to fuck with him, even so, it appears your man will not let the room stay in a peaceful quietness. With Klaus. Never.

“What if we had tails?” Randomly questions Klaus, the feel of his hard chin digging into your rips as he tries to look up at you for an answer.

Tilting your head down ever so slightly to meet his emerald gaze you smirk, “What if you shut the fuck up?”

Abruptly lifting himself off of you, you’re left slightly colder as his face feigns offense, “Rude.” He tisks in disapproval, “Y/N you kiss me with that mouth.” He giggles, moving to hover over you, both of his muscular arms to either side of your face.

Looking up into his green irises you can’t help the love struck smile that tugs at the corners of your lips, “You’re one to talk considering yesterday I was making you say a whole lot worse while we were...”

Suddenly his lips are on yours and the slight chill you might have once had is gone in an instant. He’s warm and welcoming as always, letting this moment take its sweet time as he slowly lowers himself flush against you.

Feeling the full weight of Klaus is a solid blessing, he’s warm and enough to cover your smaller frame which is always nice. Soon he’s caressing your hair as his legs fall on the mattress in between your thighs while he continues to move gently against your lips.

All to soon Klaus pulls away, resting his elbows against the bed as he stares deeply into your beaming gaze and almost swollen lips from the swiftly pleasant previous events. His hair is a usual mess, dark brown locks throwing themselves every which way. His unkempt mane is slightly longer then normal but you’re not complaining, gives you something to tug when you’re getting rawed into the mattress.

Without a second to spare he leans down to press a sweet kiss upon your lips before pulling away just as quickly, a mischievous glimmer to his eye that sends an electric bolt of excitement into your body.

Letting your finger tips lightly drag down the side of his handsome features, he closes his eyes as you smile, “I know that look. What do you have in mind we do next?”

Opening his eyes once more, he kisses your cheek, “Oh I have something very intriguing swirling through this wonderland.” He quips, ever so slightly pressing into you as he pecks the corner of your lips.

“Klaus.” You halfheartedly warn, “You’re treading on some very dangerous territory my love, are you even prepared?” You purr, sending shivers down his naked spine as you drag your nails gently down his back, causing the man to close his eyes in pleasure. “You are weak to my power.”

Leaning his head against yours, Klaus tugs at a small lock of your hair, “Y/N. You have no fucking idea.” He mutters lowly, oh you got him now.

“You are nothing but a simple weary traveler who’ve lost their way in the storm.” You whisper, “Wandering, lonely, desperate...”

“Y/N.” He warns, though there is no real threat that could make you fall back in fear, Klaus loves when you act like this. God you’ve got him by a string.

“A man alone is no way to live in this world. It’s a fortunate thing I have found you then, and taken you into my castle.” Your words are soft and sensual as your body begins to press up into his growing member, “Now look at us, how far things have gone from when I found you alone in the woods. Now you’re tiny and desperately in need of being touched.”

“Oh lord.” Mumbles Klaus as you tug at his tiny neon boxers, your lips dancing across his cheeks the whole time.

——

Panting from Klaus’ persistent love making capabilities that’s left you sweaty and slightly sore in more areas then your thighs. You take a deep satisfied breath, body nude and hot as you lay against the beds soft blankets, listening to the pitter patter of rain against the window.

Klaus is a sight to behold, with his hair a wild jungle and his body absolutely glistening in the neon lights of your room. He lays on his back next to you, eyes closed as his face reveals a big dumb smile blessing his handsome features for you and only you to enjoy.

His naked chest rises and falls in repetitive slow waves as he keeps a single hand protectively against your wrist that’s closest to him. You can tell he’s spent, giving all of himself to you in many positions and various places throughout the room is no easy feat. But you’re worth everything to him.

You blink up at the ceiling, immensely enjoying the feeling of being naked and completely vulnerable to the world in this very moment. Though the prying eyes of the universe isn’t a huge problem right now, you’re just grateful to have someone like Klaus who absolutely worships you.

He’s never made you feel like shit, never judged you, let you down when you needed him most, or mocked you for anything. He’s always made sure to keep you close and to never let his addictions get in the way of your love and deep friendship. Sure he’s struggled, but you’ve always been there to reach out a hand when he stumbles.

And for that he owes you everything, possibly even his life. Though he’d never want to fully admit that, he’s still a bit stubborn in those areas. But without a doubt he has always shown you how much you mean to him, and that means more to you then anything in the whole wide world.

Gently tapping your wrist, Klaus stirs from beside you, “Y/N.” He whispers, causing you to turn your attention over to him.

“Yes?” You whisper back, eyes trailing from his lips over to his emerald eyes.

He breaks out into a cute little smile when your gaze meet, “I’m hungry.”

“Me too.” You confirm, shifting yourself on the bed so that you’re now laying on your stomach facing Klaus, “I have a fantastic idea and it involves you going to get us something to eat.”

“Blah.” Complains Klaus with a pout, “Can’t we just order gummy worms? Oh, some of that Thai from Fifth Avenue?”

Shaking your head you chuckle, “I’m afraid not, they don’t serve gelatin sour candy or have delivery.”

“Tragic.”

“Well....we could go on a heist to the 7 eleven, you wanna join me?” You ask while gently twirling his hair with your fingers as he thinks of an excuse or hopefully a more positive answer.

“Ugh but the rain.” Whines your man as he throws his arm up to point dramatically at the window before it falls back onto the bed with a thwump sound. “Why do humans need to eat?”

Leaning your head down, you gently kiss his lips for a few moments to silence his dull excuses before pulling away once more, “Why do humans need to fuck?” You whisper to him in the darkly lit room as rain continues to softly patters against the glass.

Raising a brow, you watch as his lips shift into a grin, “Fair point my dear. Fair point.” He mumbles while reaching a hand up to press your lips against his once more. He tastes so sweet and delicious, but alas your stomach growls in defiance as it complains of your hunger.

Tugging on his hair, you lift your head up to give him a half annoyed look, “Stop kissing me. We need to eat something and the fridge is empty.”

Smiling cheekily he softly caresses your skin, “Why can’t I just eat you instead? I know how absolutely scrumptious you are.” Sweet talks Klaus in that compellingly sly voice of his that absolutely drives you wild.

Biting your bottom lip, you contemplate taking him up on that implied offer just as another pang of hunger curls in your body. “I’m thinking cheap frozen pizza. How about you hot-stuff? And anyways, what else you got going on?”

“Showing my girlfriend how much I love her on this fine day?”

“I like it, but wrong answer.” You reply with a smirk, “Now come on, let’s get some food so we can come back here and be lazy again.”

Klaus rolls his eyes, “Grrr fine. But only because I love you.”

[helloalycia]

lose you [one] // leigh shaw

summary: after Leigh ignores your existence for a few days, you decide to force her out of her room and spend the afternoon with you, but it ends up leading to something more

warning/s: mentions of grief and implied death

author's note: this was requested and I finally got around to watching Sorry For Your Loss (which is so good by the way! i'm so mad it got cancelled), so here is a little Leigh Shaw imagine! It's a three-parter so stay tuned :)

part two | part three | masterlist | wattpad

"Where is she?"

Jules, her sister, pointed up at the ceiling, referring to upstairs, as she finished chewing on a grape. "What did she do now?"

I refrained from rolling my eyes at the reminder that Leigh had been ignoring my calls and texts for the past few days.

"Nothing," I mumbled before leaving her in the kitchen to eat her fruit.

I'd been friends with Leigh long enough to invite myself into her house and let myself head upstairs. When I reached her room, I knocked on the door and tried to hide my impatience with a sigh.

"Jules, I'm not in the mood," her voice grumbled from the other side.

Ever since losing her husband a year ago, Leigh's personality had become more... erratic, if you will. Understanding her mood changes and temper tantrums was a skill in itself, but I was determined to stick by her if it meant she'd be okay. Like now, for example.

"It's not Jules," I called back. She didn't reply, so I said, "You better have clothes on, I'm coming in."

Without wasting a second, I opened the door and found Leigh laying on her bed, thankfully dressed, and looking up at the ceiling. Her room was slightly messy and the curtains were half open, like she'd been in the same position for the past few days. I wouldn't have put it past her.

When I entered, her eyes glanced my way before she continued to stare a hole into the ceiling. I breathed out, unsure what to say.

"Don't look at me like that," she said quietly.

"I wouldn't have to if you'd replied to any of my texts," I retorted, though my tone was anything but harsh.

"I've been busy," she mumbled.

My eyes raked the room once again. "Yeah, I can see that... it's two in the afternoon."

Suddenly, she sat up and narrowed her eyes at me. "Look, if I wanted a lecture, I'd have let Jules in here. If you've not got anything nice to say, you know where the door is."

Rolling my eyes, I ignored her flippant attitude and went to the set of chest drawers pushed against her wall. I rifled through them, earning complaints from behind me, before pulling out some clothes and throwing them at her.

"We're going out," I told her sternly, crossing my arms.

She removed the clothes from her face and gave me a disapproving look. "No, we're not."

"I'm not leaving unless you come with me, so..."

She could be a bitch when she wanted to be, but she knew I could be, too. Our stubbornness was our weakness, since neither of us could back down in a fight. Nowadays, it usually ended with me giving in because I pitied her, but not today. Today I was adamant on cheering her up.

"Fine," she said through a sigh of defeat. "Just get out already."

I smiled victoriously. "See you downstairs."

After waiting for Leigh to get ready and out of the pyjamas I was sure she'd lived in for three days straight, we got in my car and I began to drive.

"Where are we going?" she asked, glancing over at me with mild annoyance, like she'd rather be anywhere but here.

"Not sure yet," I admitted, ignoring the disbelief on her face.

"Then why did you make me come?!" she asked, her attention fully on me now.

I shrugged. "Thought you could use the break." Shoulders relaxing, I added, "I also thought we could spend some time together since we haven't in a while."

I didn't want to say it was because of the fact that she'd been avoiding me, or at least been making no effort to talk to me. I also didn't want to make her feel bad because of those facts, but she seemed to take it personally anyway, resorting to a good old-fashioned Leigh-specialty eye roll.

"I'm not sorry for grieving," she said knowingly, getting comfortable in her seat and looking out the window.

I gripped the steering wheel harder and tried not to let her words make a difference. She had a bad habit of twisting my words or making things seem worse than they were and I knew it was a coping mechanism of hers. She only tried to cope when things got too much, which only confirmed my reason for taking her out today.

"You don't have to be," was all I said, before focusing back on my driving.

—

Halfway through our drive to nowhere, I pulled the roof of the car down so we could feel the wind in our hair and the sun on our backs, since it was a nice day. I also put the radio on, hoping it would ease the tension on Leigh's end of the car.

Pop songs blared through the speakers, some that I knew and some that I didn't. Of course, the ones that I knew I immediately sang along to. Leigh definitely didn't like that, opting to roll her eyes and pretend I wasn't there. But eventually, I knew she wouldn't be able to resist and she began to hum along, making me smile.

On the road that led to nowhere, I noticed a public footpath leading into the forest and decided to take a pit stop, utilising the car park nearby. When Leigh noticed what I was doing, she straightened up and looked around with confusion.

"What are you doing?" she asked, eyes falling to mine.

I tried not to laugh. "We, my friend, are going on a walk."

"You're kidding."

"I'm really not."

I felt her eyes on me as I parked up and turned the engine off. Unbuckling my seatbelt, I opened my car door and met her judgemental gaze, noticing she wasn’t making a move to leave.

"You coming?" I asked with a raised brow.

"Do I have a choice?"

"Of course," I said, not quite stepping out the car but hanging my feet out. "You can either come with me on a nice walk through the forest, or you can stay here and roast to death in the car because of the heat whilst you wait for me."

"Or I can steal your keys and drive home without you," she offered as a third option, smiling bitterly.

Grin on my lips, I hummed in agreement. "That's also an option, yes."

Letting out a sigh through gritted teeth, she wordlessly got out the car and I smiled with satisfaction, knowing she'd give in. Getting out the car, I stretched my arms before locking the doors and joining Leigh's side. She sulked like a child, but allowed me to lead her to the trail ahead.

It was a lovely day out, warm but with a slight breeze that cooled our skin as we walked. Sunlight peeked through the tall trees, reflecting off the greenery and filling me with a sense of awe as I appreciated mother nature up close and personal.

Glancing over at Leigh, I noticed how she fell into step with me but remained closed off. Hugging herself, she focused on the path ahead and stayed quiet, jaw clenched and lips pursed. Streams of light that shone through the trees shone onto her, spotlighting her and making her hair look golden, blinding but in the best way.

I'd never admit it aloud, but I always loved the way her green eyes sparkled in the light, and even when she turned to glare at me, I felt my heart rate speeding up at how beautiful she looked.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," she said dryly.

Not letting her mood get me down, I pulled out my phone and snapped a photo, making her smack my hand away. I laughed and, for her sake, pretended I didn't see the ghost of a smile on her lips.

"That's one for the books," I teased, putting my phone away.

"It's fine, I have plenty of you," she mumbled.

I smiled to myself but said nothing. We continued to walk through the woods, following the trail and myself remembering every turn we made so we could make it back the right way. There were a few other people out, but we passed them with a quick hello (from myself since Leigh was still sulking) and moved on.

Twenty minutes into our peaceful walk, I noticed a wooden footbridge up ahead, possibly built over a stream. Excited, I stopped and looked to Leigh who noticed I wasn't beside her and turned around to see what was up.

"Why d'you stop?" she asked, pulling her hair up into a ponytail impatiently.

I smiled eagerly. "I'll race you to the bridge."

"Y/N," she breathed out, raising her eyebrows. "We're not kids."

I walked forward slowly, smile fading into a frown. "Fine. Sorry for trying to liven things up."

She rolled her eyes and continued to walk beside me in silence. But my pace picked up, as did hers, and I exchanged glances with her, realising she was walking faster than usual. Before I knew it, we were breaking into a run, trying to reach the bridge before each other.

"Thought you didn't wanna race!" I said between heavy breaths.

"I don't!" she called back, her pace picking up as she managed to get ahead.

I sucked up a breath and pushed on, tailing her as she reached the bridge. When she got there, she began to cheer and point at me obnoxiously.

"Ha! I win!" she said with a grin, as I slowed down and bent over to catch my breath. "Sucks to be you."

Her laughter filled my ears as I straightened up, hands on my hips. She looked so happy, even if it was momentarily, and I watched her with adoration, not even caring that I'd lost. She was stunning when she was smiling and I could only hope she'd do it more as time went on.

"I let you win," I joked, waving my hand dismissively.

"Sure you did," she played along, leaning on the bridge's railing as she watched me with amusement.

"You literally exercise for a living," I told her with a shrug. "S'not fair."

"Whatever," she said with an eye roll, smile still dancing on her lips as she turned around to look over the bridge. A gasp escaped her lips as she said, "Wow."

I joined her side, holding the railing to see what had taken her breath away. Then I saw it. A stream ran beneath us and was framed by some beautiful flowers and tall, transcending trees whose branches curled outwards and were covered in green leaves. The sun's rays filtered down through the leaves and made the water look like it was sparkling, rippling with every rock it pushed past.

"Looks like something out of a children's book," I said with disbelief, smile of amazement on my lips.

Leigh hummed in agreement and I glanced at her, seeing a similar expression on her face. Glad she was in a better mood, I looked back to the picturesque view before us and leaned on the railing, merely appreciating the sight.

"This is nice," Leigh said quietly, after a moment.

I tilted my head to get a look at her. She was already looking my way, leaning on her arms and meeting my gaze.

"Thanks, I put it all together myself," I said playfully, making her nudge me with her elbow as I chuckled.

"I'm serious," she said, before looking ahead again. "It is."

Knowing that was her way of saying thank you without actually saying it, I nodded in agreement. "It is."

We admired the sight for a few more minutes before deciding to head back, taking our time as we followed the route I remembered. Leigh was a little less tense this time, seeming to relax into her surroundings a little more. She even had a smile on her face at times which was all I wanted.

"You hungry?" I asked when we reached the car park.

"I guess I could eat," she said with a shrug.

"Well, according to this sign," I said, pointing to a board beside the start of the footpath, "there's a café a little way down the road. Wanna go?"

She motioned for me to go first. "After you."

Green eyes shone bright with amusement as she looked to me with a suppressed smile. Losing my words, surprisingly startled by her gaze, I cleared my throat and took the lead, making her laugh.

I sometimes wondered if she knew the effect she had on me or if she just liked catching me off guard. Maybe it was both.

—

After having a late lunch, or early dinner depending on how you saw it, Leigh and I got back in my car and I began to drive us back to hers. It was quiet, just like our meal was and just like she'd been for most of the afternoon. I was fine with that, I guess, but I felt like she was holding something in.

Turning off the radio, I earned her attention.

"You should try screaming," I suggested casually.

"Excuse me?"

I felt her eyes boring into me with confusion as I got comfortable in my seat. Looking in the rear view mirror, I noticed there were no cars behind us or in front of us. The road was empty as I drove on the edge of one of the many beautiful cliff-sides in Los Angeles.

"Scream," I repeated to Leigh. "It'll feel good. Watch."

Wasting no time, I began to scream at the top of my lungs, being sure to stay focused on driving at the same time. My voice flew into the air as my car sped down the road, leaving me feeling liberated.

"Geez, a warning would be nice!" Leigh snapped, uncovering her ears when I was done.

I laughed. "I did say to scream." Giving her a sideways glance, I added, "Come on. Try it with me. On the count of three."

"This is stupid," she decided, leaning back into her seat and pushing her hair from her eyes as the wind blew it about.

"No, it's not," I said with certainty. "Three."

"Y/N."

"Two."

"Stop it."

"One."

"Y/N!"

I looked to her with a grin before screaming at the top of my lungs. When I didn't hear her join in, I stopped and pouted.

"You gonna leave me hanging?" I asked, looking between her and the road. "C'mon. Last chance."

"Y/N–"

"Three. Two. One."

This time, to my surprise, she joined in and we screamed together, our voices echoing into the hills around us. It was exciting, thrilling and freeing all at once. Once we were out of breath, we stopped and caught it back.

"Felt good, right?" I asked with a grin.

She began to laugh, quietly, slowly, then loudly and hysterically, making me join in. Though, when my laughter faded, I realised she was still laughing, and then I looked over to her and saw tears streaming down her cheeks. With concern, I reached over to comfort her, but stopped when I realised it was weird to do, even for a friend.

"Leigh, I'm sorry, I–"

"No, no, it's fine, I'm fine," she cut me off, wide smile still on her lips as she wiped away her tears with the sleeve of her jumper. "They're happy tears. Y/N. They're happy tears."

I furrowed my brows with confusion, eyes flickering between the road and Leigh. "Are you– are you sure? Because it's okay if–"

"I'm okay," she promised, resting a hand on my arm. "I am. And the screaming helped. You were right."

I almost made a joke about how I'm always right, but my concern for her, despite the smile she wore, was still present. Teary eyes watched me with reassurance and she squeezed my arm gently before getting comfortable in her seat.

"Okay, if you're sure," I said, still uncertain.

We continued driving when I noticed the sun setting and decided to stop the car off to the side of the road. The hills were the perfect place to watch the sunset since it had a perfect view of the city whilst leaving enough space to see the sky in all its glory.

"Now why are we stopping?" she asked, though her voice didn't carry the same venom it did earlier.

"Isn't it obvious?" I asked rhetorically, getting out the car and motioning to the view before us. "We're gonna watch the sun set!"

I thought she'd put up a fight or complain like she had with everything I'd been recommending today, but to my ease, she simply got out the car and joined me. The two of us leaned against the car door as we watched the sun dipping into the horizon, casting an orange-pink hue across the skyline and the few clouds in the sky. It always reminded me of a watercolour painting, like someone had dipped their paintbrush in water and dragged it across the sky.

"Thank you for today," Leigh said, pulling me from my admiration. "I actually had a really nice time. As in, the part I spent with you and not the part where I moped around in bed."

I gave her a half smile. "Anytime, Leigh."

She winced, shaking her head in disagreement. "No, I mean it, Y/N. For everything, not just this." She paused, and I tried to ignore the way the last of the sun's rays made her skin glow and eyes shine brighter than anything I'd ever seen. "You've been here for me, even a year later when other people would have left."

"That's what friends are for," I reminded her, and her eyes flickered to mine, holding a million questions that I couldn't decipher.

"I'm not the best company," she admitted.

"You're not that bad," I said dismissively.

"I wouldn't want to be around me," she continued.

"Who likes to be left alone with themselves anyway?" I said jokingly, making her sigh discontentedly. Smile fading, I lost my humour for the moment. "You're not as bad as you think. And even if you were, I'd still stick around."

She locked her jaw, looking down to her shoes silently. I crossed my arms and looked back to the sun, it lowering into the horizon further and further as each second passed.

"I didn't mean to force today onto you," I said hesitantly. "I just– you didn't reply to any of my messages and I was worried."

She scratched the back of her head awkwardly. "I haven't really checked my phone."

"I figured." Finger playing with my shirt mindlessly, I said, "I got a promotion at work. That's–" I cleared my throat. "That was why I called you the first time."

She looked up, eyes wide with apology. "Oh my God. Y/N, I'm so sorry! That's amazing! I should have–"

"It's okay," I reassured her with a small smile, dropping my arms to my side. "I just wanted to tell you because, well... I just wanted to tell you."

I wanted to tell her because that's what we did. We told each other everything. She was the first person that came to mind when anything good happened in my life. Of course, with everything going on, it was hard to tell her the good stuff when she was going through so much.

"I'm so proud of you," she said softly, and I looked her way when she grabbed my hand. "You worked really hard for this promotion and I knew you'd get it."

A smile crept onto my lips at her words. "Thank you, Leigh. You know that means a lot."

She nodded, mirroring my expression, before squeezing my hand gently. I wanted to look away after a few seconds, but she was still holding my gaze, eyes piercing mine as if conflicted. I suddenly became hyper-aware of her hand in mine, fingers gently tugging mine subconsciously, and the way her shoulder brushed against mine, the contact so natural I almost didn't realise it was there.

When I finally decided to break our staring contest, deciding I'd never know what was going on in her head, she took me by surprise and pulled me forward before kissing me. Her lips pressed to mine quickly, hand letting go and resting on the back of my neck dominantly.

It happened so quickly, my mind working overtime as it tried to decipher Leigh's soft lips against mine, the shiver that ran down my spine from her hand on my neck, the tenderness of her cheek as it came into contact with my nose. I didn't even get chance to react, to kiss her back like I wanted, as she pulled away in an instant.

Seemingly startled by her own actions, she let go of my neck and took a step back. I already missed the contact, my lips feeling cold as she pulled away. I, myself, was taken aback, still frozen with shock at the fact that she'd just kissed me.

"Th– that was a friendly kiss, obviously," she stuttered out, eyes avoiding mine.

I licked my lips awkwardly. "Yeah, obviously..."

"To say thanks," she added unconvincingly. "Y'know?"

"Mhm."

Neither of us looked up as we stood apart trying to understand what happened. Why did she do that? Did she actually want to? Was she caught up in the moment or was she just seeking comfort? I wasn't sure. But I knew I wished I had reacted quicker than I had.

"We should go home," she mumbled.

I nodded in agreement. "Right. Yeah. Home."

The two of us got back into my car, neither of us saying anything as I drove her back to her place. The radio played quietly in the background, filling the uncomfortable silence that formed between us, and I hated that a good day had ended on a bad note.

Pulling up outside her house, I chewed on the inside of my mouth with discomfort. She cleared her throat and still didn't look my way as she spoke.

"Thanks again for today," she said, before opening the door. "I'll, er, see you whenever."

I nodded, eyes focused on the steering wheel. "See you. I, erm–" I wanted to say something about the kiss, but she clearly didn't and I didn't want to piss her off. So, I said, "Tell Jules and your mum I said hi."

"Will do..."

With that, she got out the car and headed to her front door, leaving me sat there for a moment as I tried to comprehend the situation I was now in.

Why did Leigh have to be so confusing?

[fellintotartarus]

you ask me what i’m thinking about (spencer reid x fem!reader)

Summary: On a night out, Reader discovers that her crush, Spencer Reid is a virgin and takes him home. 3.3k words

A/N: This is literally the fastest I’ve ever written anything oh my god. Anyways, enjoy.

Warnings: Literal fucking filth, the whole thing. Sub!Spencer smut, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), penetration, praise kink.

-

“Okay, never have I ever done it standing up against a wall,” Penelope said, beginning a game of the most childish, yet absolute most fun drinking game ever.

“Unfair, Pen, I told you that story yesterday,” you whined, throwing back a shot of cheap tequila, noticing Emily and Derek join you. The whole team (minus the dads Hotch and Rossi) were gathered on the floor of Penelope’s living room unwinding after a case.

“All’s fair in love and war,” Penelope said with a drunken grin.

“That’s actually not how that saying should be applied, and if you look back to the--” Spencer started before he was cut off. He was easily the most sober of the group, which was saying something. Even he was bleary-eyed and swaying slightly in his seat.

You ran your eyes over his frame hungrily. Deciding to get drunk around the man you had a massive crush on was starting to look like a mistake as you found yourself leaning closer to him, stabilizing yourself on his thigh when you wobbled. You heard his breath hitch. You smiled, tracing your fingers over his clothed skin quickly before removing your hand.

“Sorry,” you said lowly, eyes lingering on his lips.

God what you wouldn’t do to kiss those lips raw and bite them--

“Y/N? It’s your turn,” you heard Emily say from across the room.

You turned to them, thinking. Oh, you knew a way to get nearly every single one of them (save maybe Emily) to drink.

“Never have I ever been a virgin at the age of seventeen,” you said smugly. Workplace gossip paid off.

Everyone except Emily rolled their eyes and threw back a shot, mumbling complaints.

Derek laughed and said, “Never have I ever been a virgin at my current age.”

You looked around, confused. Who on earth--

Oh.

Well, that is delightful, you thought as you watched Spencer sigh, flip Derek off, and take a shot.

“Don’t worry, pretty boy, we’ll get you laid one of these days,” Derek said.

Every single dirty thought you had ever had about this man doubled the instant you realized the world you could show him. The heat between your legs increased. Thanks to the alcohol, you had no problem scooting even closer to him as the game progressed. You hoped he would use his 187 IQ and crazy smart profiler brain to pick up what you were trying to tell him when you lightly grazed his hand with your pinky and drooped your head onto his shoulder. Sure enough, you heard his breathing speed up and he glanced down at you, his curious eyes meeting your lustful ones. He cleared his throat before looking back at the group. You sat like that for the rest of the game.

After a couple more hours of just sitting around and goofing off, you were definitely getting sober. The room no longer spun pleasantly and your body lacked the hum that came with drinking.

What didn’t wear off, though, was the thrumming need between you and Spencer. You were always flirty with him and he always blushed and tried to reciprocate, but this was a whole different level. He would turn to you occasionally, as if to reassure himself that you were, in fact, still looking at him like you wanted to pin him up against a wall and it would leave him slightly out of breath.

You loved the effect you had on him, how one glance of yours could leave him shuddering softly.

When everyone (sober enough, Emily was definitely crashing on the couch) finally started to stand up and get ready to leave, you took your opportunity and grabbed Spencer by the arm, whispering, “My place?” sweetly in his ear. He inhaled sharply and nodded his head, trailing after you out the door, both of you saying your goodbyes.

Spencer had taken the Metro, so you went in the same car and it was torture. You kept your hand on Spencer’s thigh the entire time, leaving him to shift in his seat, hoping to find more friction.

“Patience,” you said sweetly. He gulped and nodded.

As soon as you pulled up to your apartment, you practically pulled him over the console by the tie and kissed him.

You grabbed the base of Spencer’s head, twisting your fingers harshly through his hair before bringing his lips to yours. The kiss was hungry, teeth clashing, and Spencer returned it eagerly. You ran your hands over his chest, stopping only to brush his nipples, which earned you a shudder and he pushed closer to you.

You broke the kiss, saying, “Let’s take this upstairs.”

Spencer nodded enthusiastically, following you up the stairs to your apartment door. Once inside, you turned and kissed Spencer sweetly, a contrast from in the car.

You pulled away, his face in your hand, and said, “Are you good?”

Spencer said, “Yeah. I trust you.”

Your heart swelled exponentially. You were so lucky.

“Anything you don’t like and we stop, okay? You’re safe with me.” you said, playfully stern.

Spencer smiled, nodding and leaned back in to kiss you. You stopped him with a finger against his lips.

“I need to hear you say it,” you replied, eyebrows raised, cupping his face in your hand.

Spencer’s eyes widened and you felt his pants tighten against your hip.

“Yes,” he breathed.

Oh, this was an interesting development. You hadn’t wanted to bring this side of you out so soon, but Spencer seemed so eager for it.

You smiled, running your thumb back and forth on his cheek. “Do you like it when I take control, Spence?” You gripped his hip in the other hand.

His breathing shallowed, eyes fluttering when your finger dipped under his shirt and pants and rubbed small circles into his hip bone. He nodded weakly.

Your hand on his face shifted to grip his chin, bringing his eye level down to you.

“Baby, use your words,” you said sweetly, taking your time.

“Yes. Please,” Spencer basically whined, and it went straight to your core.

Okay, this was happening.

You moved your hand that was on his hip and cupped his bulge, running your fingers back and forth softly. He let out a small whimper and his hips moved subtly, begging for more. You smiled, every movement electrifying you further.

“Why don’t you take your clothes off for me and meet me in the bedroom?” you said sweetly, obviously not intending it as a question.

Spencer nodded, pulling away from you slowly before walking back to where he knew your bedroom to be.

You took a second to collect yourself, every movement making you painfully aware of how soaked you were.

You were typically fine having vanilla sex or even pretending to submit to a man every once in a while, because men didn’t typically like to hear that you wanted them to submit to you. It got old after a while, though, and just yesterday you had been considering popping in to the local BDSM club to find someone.

But today had proven to be exactly what you needed. Not only were you about to fuck the man you’d had a crush on for a while, but he was sitting pretty in the bedroom, waiting for your next command.

Fuck, you thought, rubbing your thighs together. You’d better get in there, then.

You turned the corner into the doorway and found Spencer down to his tented boxer briefs sitting pretty on the edge of your bed. 

You stood in front of him and shrugged your dress off your shoulders, revealing a skimpy bralette and sheer boyshorts. 

He gasped softly at the sight of your near naked body and shifted on the bed as if to get closer to you. You smiled, walking to him and positioning yourself between his legs, looking down on him. 

You took his face in your hand, squeezing slightly to make his lips pucker. You leaned down and did exactly what you had imagined earlier in the night, kissing him harshly, sucking and biting at his lips, drawing small moans from him.

You ran your fingers up and down his chest, scratching his pale skin and tweaking his nipples every now and then as you continued to kiss him roughly, and Spencer whimpered, wiggling around where he was sitting. 

The wetness in your panties had soaked through the fabric and Spencer’s boxers were so tight it just had to have hurt. 

You broke the kiss, taking a moment to savor the wrecked look on Spencer’s face. His lips were red and swollen, covered in saliva, and there were red marks from where you had gripped his face. 

“What do you know about pleasuring women, Dr. Reid?” you asked teasingly, continuing your ministrations on his chest.

“I may be a virgin, but I’m not stupid,” he said, out of breath. He picked up his hand and trailed it along your inner thighs, making you shiver. He ghosted across where you needed him most.

His eyes met yours, asking silent permission which you granted with a nod, breath heavy.

You gripped his shoulders hard and threw your head back when he moved your panties aside and slipped his fingers through your soaked folds. He found your clit immediately (goddamn genius) and rubbed it in soft, slow circles. It felt amazing, but it was nowhere near enough.

When he glanced up at you with the subbiest look on his face, you took his face in your hand yet again and breathed, “Not enough, baby.”

Spencer’s face flashed with a look of determination and he increased the pressure on your clit before slipping a finger in your heat. You let out a loud moan and let your eyes flutter shut, running your fingers through his hair in praise.

“Fuck, baby, you’re doing so good for me,” you groaned, which only served to spur him on. He quickly added two more fingers and pumped in and out of you so deliberately, rubbing up against that electric spot inside you every time.

You definitely hadn’t been expecting to cum more than once if at all tonight, but here you were, stood in front of your crush sitting on your bed while he brought you dangerously close to the edge with his fingers.

He continued slipping in and out of you and rubbing circles into your clit, the feeling of his warm fingers making you near delirious. The real turn-on, though, was the way he looked up at you, practically begging for praise. 

“Oh, fuck, Spence, you’re doing so good for me, so fucking good,” you choked out as you felt your breath hitch and legs tense, your orgasm so, so near.

“I’m close,” you whispered, unsure of whether Spencer even heard it. You were assured he did, though, when he dipped his head down to your cunt and licked a long, hard, stripe up and down before latching onto your clit and sucking. You let out a long, loud moan.

That was all it took. You came hard on Spencer’s hand, mewls and whines filling the room, walls clamping tightly around his fingers and he nursed it beautifully for you, kitten licking your clit and softly rubbing inside you until you had to pull his hand and face off because your legs were shaking too hard.

You took one look at him, face covered in your juices, lips swollen from the kissing and sucking, hair absolutely mussed from your hands, and it was it took to leave you wanting more. You placed your hand flat on his chest, leading him farther back on the bed. He sat against the pillows and headboard and you placed your soaked core directly on his hard bulge, pulling a whimper from him and a low moan from you.

You leaned in, hungrily kissing him, tasting yourself on his lips and tongue and rocking your hips back and forth slowly, building a fire in you. At this point, Spencer was a mess, practically begging for you to touch him. He bucked his hips up into yours and whimpered with every movement. You moved your hand to the back of his neck and pulled his head back, exposing his throat.

“I’m gonna give you a hickey, alright, baby? That way everyone will know you’re taken,” you growled into his ear, nipping his earlobe in between words.

Spencer exhaled sharply and nodded, not speaking. You gave his earlobe a sharp pull with your teeth, and he jumped slightly.

“Please, Y/N, just own me,” he gasped.

You were sure that you had died and gone to heaven. There was no way your crush was sitting under you right now being a perfect little sub and begging for you to wreck him.

You latched onto his pulse point with renewed vigor, sucking and biting his soft, pale skin. Spencer writhed underneath you, moaning out little expletives you almost couldn’t understand.

You continued until you were met with an angry bruise blooming on his beautiful neck, satisfied with your work.

“There we go,” you teased, scooting back on the bed until your face aligned with Spencer’s bulge. You let your breath ghost over his clothed dick and licked at the wet spot on his boxers. Spencer whined, an honest to god high pitched whine, and it was so hot you had no choice but to wrap your mouth around the head of his cock through his boxers.

He was obviously trying to hold back, grasping at the sheets with his hands and biting his lips to stop from moaning. You pulled back.

“Are you going to be good for me and let me hear you, baby? Or am I going to have to leave you high and dry?” you teased, cocking your eyebrow at him.

Spencer exhaled. “Fuck, please, I’ll be good, I promise.”

If you hadn’t been soaked before, his words just then would’ve done the job.

You lowered your head again, pulling back the waistband of Spencer’s boxers to reveal his cock, hard, pink, leaking precum, and deliciously big.

“Oh, baby, it’s a crime to keep this pretty dick from the world,” you grinned, licking a slow stripe up the underside.

Spencer kept true to his promise and was not holding a single noise back, his head thrown back against the headboard. The room was filled with the curses and moans pouring out of his mouth.

You wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, swirling your tongue around to collect the precum. His hips bucked into your mouth and you smiled around him, going lower and lower until he hit the back of your throat.

You hollowed your cheeks and slid up and down a few times, leaving him practically yelling. You pulled off with a pop and brought yourself back up to his face, never letting go of his dick.

“As much as I’d like for you to fuck my face and cum down my throat, we’ve got that little viginity issue of yours to solve.”

Spencer looked at you, wide-eyed and gasping and nodded as you gave him a few pumps and positioned yourself over him.

“I’m clean,” he croaked, face red. “Obviously.”

You smiled and leaned in, kissing him softly.

“Me, too. And I’m on the pill. Spencer, are you sure? Because we can stop right now,” you said softly, reassuring him.

Spencer shook his head, “There’s no one I’d rather do this with.”

You smiled, assuming your role once again, “I’m glad to hear it, baby boy. Are you ready for this pussy to change your life?” you said, joking to ease the mood.

Spencer smiled, almost laughing, but then you ran his tip through your folds and his face fell into one of pure bliss. You rubbed your clit against him, covering him in your slick and moaning loudly.

“Fuck, baby, you’re gonna feel so good inside me,” you groaned, head thrown back in pleasure.

Spencer squirmed, clearly impatient to feel himself inside you. You chuckled, cutting your grinding against him short to indulge him

You pressed your lips against his in a wildly passionate kiss as you lowered yourself onto him, feeling him stretch you out.

Spencer’s mouth fell open against yours and his strangled moans only encouraged you. Feeling warmed up enough, you dropped the rest of the way onto him, feeling the pleasant burn and crying out.

The feeling was insane. You were so full and satisfied you felt yourself uncharacteristically close again already. You ground your clit in Spencer’s hip bone and mewled loudly. 

“Fuck, Y/N, please move,” Spencer begged, writhing under you.

“You don’t tell me what to do, Spence,” you said, halting your movements altogether. He whined and stopped moving, too.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he whimpered.

Satisfied with his apology, you brought yourself up slowly, only stopped when he nearly slipped out of you, before dropping quickly, hitting the deepest spot inside you. You repeated the motions again, quicker this time and Spencer’s hands shot out to grip your hips. You decided to allow it purely because of the crazy blissed out look Spencer had on his face.

He looked gorgeous. His hair was fucked and stuck to his forehead with sweat. His head was thrown back in complete pleasure, noises pouring out of his swollen lips continuously and the hickey on his neck stood out prominently. 

When you dropped down on him again, he hit a spot inside of you you didn’t even know existed, and you fell forward onto his chest on your elbows, the coil inside you tightening hotly. You straightened up with new determination, practically fucking him into the bed.

Spencer moved his hands up to your tits, pulling one of them into his mouth. His tongue circled your nipple, sucking softly and you grabbed his hair hard, causing him to moan against you. You lowered your hand to where the two of you met, swirling your thumb around your combined juices.

You pulled him off of you and offered him your soaked thumb, which he graciously took into his mouth and began sucking earnestly. You moaned as loud as you ever had. Just seeing him being so good brought you close to the edge again.

“I’m so close,” Spencer said through your hand.

“Me, too. Help me out, baby,” you whispered sweetly, grabbing his hand and guiding it to your clit. He pushed his thumb harshly against it and rubbed and you yelled loudly.

You slammed back down on him and came harder than you ever had, gasping for air and your vision whiting out. a vice-like clamp on Spencer’s dick guiding him over the edge, too. You felt his seed fill you, a warmth spreading inside you. You desperately joined Spencer at your clit, rubbing circles to prolong your orgasm for as long as possible. 

Finally, you let yourself go limp on top of him, tracing little patterns into his sweaty skin.

“I hope that was okay for your first time,” you whispered against him, pressing soft kisses into his torso.

“Are you kidding? I think that’s the best sex anyone has ever had their first time,” Spencer said, still catching his breath.

“Are you good?” you asked, turning to face him. “Was that too much?”

Spencer smiled, blushing. “No way. It was perfect.”

-

The next day at work, you walked in five minutes before Spencer so no one was the wiser.

Spencer walked into the conference room last, so everyone noticed the scarf he was wearing in the warm August weather.

Derek snatched it off of him almost as soon as he sat down and wolf-whistled at his hickey.

“Looks like Pretty Ricky finally got some,” he laughed, everyone joining in in playfully congratulating Spencer. His face reddened and his eyes met yours.

You winked.

[helliontherapscallion]

Yellow Carnations (Destiny Written in Begonias Part 1)

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Summary: After hearing something deep within the woods, you give into curiosity and investigate. Who knows, whatever you find could be a prize.

Warnings: Swearing, slightly graphic violence (just some zombies getting dismembered)

Word count: 3,715

(A/N): So, welcome to my new series! I have so many ideas for this that I’d love to write. This story will be very gay, fluffy, and sorta angsty, so buckle up my children!

So just a lil background info: the reader is Techno’s adopted daughter. She is a piglin hybrid, but she is more human looking than piglin. This takes place about eighteen years after the most recent events of the SMP.

                                           ✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

“Techno, I think we have enough ender pearls for tonight.” You glanced to your side to look at your father and Philza, the enchantments of their armor glowing dimly in the moonlight and the orange light of the torches in their hands. Philza stretched his body and his wings out, a small groan escaping his mouth and small cracks sounding from his joints.

“The night’s still young, Phil!” Technoblade grinned, his gold capped canines glinting slightly. His hand moved to gently rest on the handle of his sword.

You snorted to yourself, “you two, however, aren’t.” A small shove came from your side making you stumble slightly, laughter bubbling from your throat.

“I’m just going to pretend that I didn’t hear anything,” Philza crossed his arms and looked off to the side. Though, you could hear a smile in his tone and the beginnings of a chuckle.

“I’m sorry,” you chuckled, “Dad set me up for that one. The opportunity was too good to pass up.”

“I’ll set you up for longer training sessions if you keep going for… ‘opportunities’ like that.” He glanced down at you with amusement glinting in his eyes and tugging at the corner of his lips.

His statement, though lighthearted, immediately made you stop laughing. You knew him well enough to know that he wasn’t joking; the last time you laughed it off you had to endure two extra hours on top of the four hour sessions you had daily. By the end of the punishment, your arms felt like they were going to fall off.

“No! I take it back, you guys are young! Not a single-”

“You’re digging yourself an early grave if you finish that sentence, kid. Besides, you can’t pass up opportunities like these!”

“I think I’m good for now,” you shivered slightly when a breeze blew past you. It was starting to grow colder as the night dragged on. Technoblade, noticing this, wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you close to him securely. Though the Blood God never shows mercy, he couldn’t let his only child succumb to a head cold; that’d just be barbaric.

You jumped at the feeling of the freezing netherite making contact with your bare arm. “Sorry,” he murmured sheepishly, “forgot how cold the armor is… We should probably head back, it’s getting cold.”

As your family started to make their way back towards the tundra, banter was exchanged between the three. The journey out of the forest was uneventful, only a few mobs had attempted to attack or sneak behind you. Just as you reached the edge of the forest, a noise caught your attention.

It sounded like it was only a couple of minutes away; so faint that if you weren’t actively listening for it, it would have nearly been lost in the night. If you strained your ears, you could hear the trampling of dry leaves making you assume that there were several people or animals in that area. Alongside it, there was a faint whimpering.

Your curiosity was piqued, just what was making that noise?

“(Y/n), is everything alright?” You looked back at Philza. It seemed that they walked a bit away from you while you stopped at the forest’s edge to listen to the sound.

You absentmindedly nodded, “yeah, Uncle Phil. I think I left my bow back in that clearing when we were taking a break so I’m just going to go grab that. You guys can keep going home, I’ll be right behind you.”

“We can go with you-”

“No, you don’t have to. I’m old enough to go alone.”

Philza and Technoblade then spoke at the same time, “alright, we’ll just meet you there.” “Absolutely not.”

Philza elbowed Technoblade’s side lightly and looked up at him. They were silently communicating with pointed looks and pursed lips, every expression understood completely by the other. You never understood how they did that, even if they raised you. You could remember making a journal dedicated to deciphering their expressions, but you never could truly understand it (that, and ‘nose scrunch and eye narrow’ meant multiple things).

Eventually, Technoblade’s shoulders slumped and he ran a hand down his face tiredly, “you know the rules?”

You rolled your eyes, “of course I do. Fight to win, go for the throat, if you lose your weapon go for the pressure points. You remind me daily.”

He stared at you for a moment before his ear flicked, “don’t take long, we’ll be waiting.” They both turned and started to trudge towards the spruce forest in the distance.

Without a second thought, you ran into the forest with your ears perked. Following the noise was easy, the whimpers had turned into high pitched whines. You leapt over stumps and ducked under low hanging branches as they blocked your way; nothing was going to stop you from finding out what was making that noise.

Eventually, you broke through the trees and found yourself in a grassy clearing surrounded by large stones. If it were spring, you’d imagine wildflowers sprouting everywhere you stepped. A small spring sat in the furthest corner of it, waterfalls cascading over the jagged stones and crashing into the water below. Near the cliffside, a hoard of groaning zombies swarmed something and they were closing in on it. Now, what was it they were attacking?

You quickly unsheathed your golden sword and sprinted towards the hoard. The crunching of the dried, colorful leaves under your feet was enough to drag the zombies’ attention to you.

Adrenaline coursed through your veins as you made your first swipe at one of their torsos. In an instant, the zombie was bisected and fell to the ground. With a twirl, you slashed at multiple zombies at once. They all collapsed to the ground as their rotting flesh was torn and couldn’t support their crumbling bodies any longer.

As soon as all of the zombies were laying dead on the ground, you wiped your blade off on one of their torn tunics and sheathed it. Taking a step back to look at the bodies littered on the floor, you smirked; this was too easy.

Now, without the obstacles, your prize awaits you. Eagerly, you looked over to see what the zombies were swarming. Instead of the scared villager you were expecting, the person that stood there completely took your breath away.

The woman was wearing a simple white dress with a baby blue shawl shadowing the upper part of her face. Her skin was fair and her face was round, a button nose laid in the center of her face and plump pink lips slightly parted showing off straight white teeth. Curly dark brown hair framed the sides of her face and spiraled down to rest on her shoulders.

She was tall for a human, about five-foot-ten if you were to estimate. Her hands moved to clasp in front of her elegantly, your eyes catching sight of light blue nailpolish decorating her perfectly shaped nails.

Red was starting to dust her cheeks and her breathing was starting to return to normal. That was good, at least she wasn’t going into shock. For someone who nearly got eaten alive by the undead, she looked relatively calm and well put together.

“Are you alright?” You tried to keep your voice even, but there was a light wobble to it. You thickly swallowed, cursing yourself for showing any emotion in front of this stranger. The mask that hid the upper part of your face gave you a sense of security and safety, it hid most of your emotion.

You saw her lips move, but no sound came out. Were you going deaf like your father? You shouldn’t be; you haven’t blown up an entire nation yet. You stepped closer in hopes of hearing her better, “excuse me?”

Her lips curled up into a smile, dimples appearing on her cheeks, “Oh, I just said that I’m fine, nothing else. May I get the name of my knight in shining armor?”

Her voice was soft and light. Though it was on the deeper side, it had feminine, euphonious undertones; it was like honey was dripping out with every word she spoke. Just by the way she spoke, you assumed that she came from the nearby kingdom.

You smirked, playing along with the small game she was setting up. Stepping closer and kneeling, you grabbed her hand and brought it to your lips. Her hands were soft and velvety, a part of you longed to hold it in yours all day long.

Against her knuckles, you spoke, “(Y/n) Blade at your service. And you, my fairest lady?”

“Princess Helen Dahlia Eret, but please, call me Dahlia; Helen was my mother. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

You snorted, she was really dedicated to this game. You’d just play along with her, why not? It’s not like you have anything else to do. “Well, princess, it’s about time for you to head back to your castle.”

You looked up at her through your eyelashes and caught sight of the outline of her shadowed features. You could see her purse her lips, “you think I’m lying, don’t you?”

“Forgive me for thinking so, your highness!” You snickered, “the princess shall not step foot outside of her chambers, lest a scrape shall mar her flawless skin!”

She smirked before placing a delicate finger underneath your chin, tilting it upwards. You could feel your face grow hot as she removed her shawl. Ivory white eyes stared back at you smugly, sending a shock through your body. You weren’t sure if the jolt you felt was from her beauty or from the fact that she wasn’t lying.

“Would you like to try again, my knight?” She cooed to you, her other hand coming down to rest on your cheek. You stood up and gaped at her, “oh fuck, you’re actually the princess.”

A part of you wanted to dislike her for her title and for the royal blood that coursed through her veins. That blood tainted her, filling every nook and cranny with vile corruption. “All governments are bad,” Technoblade had taught you early on in your life, “they should, under no circumstances, be trusted.”

Though her parent Eret had been a fair king, always attending to the needs of their people, you were anticipating their corruption. If your memory serves you right, they were the one that betrayed the revolutionaries during the L’manberg Revolution simply because of their thirst for power. If they were a power hungry traitor before, who’s to say that they won’t be blinded by it again?

Every fiber in your body screamed at you to sink your sword through her abdomen to put her down, just like the bloodthirsty hounds that hailed long before her. You could just end her right now, make it quick and just leave her body here. It’d be easy and it would bring chaos to the SMP Kingdom, causing mass paranoia and tearing it apart from within. It’d be delicious, something that would give you a high you’d ride for years. You wanted to paint the grass with her blood, but something deep within you protested.

Filthy blood nourished her body, but that didn’t take away from her sheer and complete beauty or the way she covered her mouth with a delicate hand to hide her laugh. That did not take away from how she had cupped your cheek moments before, your skin still tingled where her hand was. That didn’t suppress the butterflies that fluttered wildly in your stomach when she stepped into the moonlight.

She put her hand out and smiled, “won’t you accompany me to my castle, my faithful warrior?” You merely put on a cold, uncaring facade and side stepped her.

“...You got yourself here, yes? You can find your way back.”

“Well you see,” she moved to rub the back of her neck and awkwardly chuckled, “I was hoping you know the way back?”

You couldn’t stop the snort that escaped your mouth, something about her made her irresistible. “You’ve got to be kidding me, you just ran blindly into a forest?”

“Hey, you would too if you were being chased by zombies!”

“Excuse me, who was the one that just slaughtered said zombies in under a minute?” You raised an eyebrow and looked down at her.

“I don’t have a sword like you do,” she crossed her arms over her chest and glared up at you.

“Even then, I doubt you know how to use one. Here,” you unsheathed the large sword and held it out to her, “I bet you can’t even hold it up.”

“Can too!” She protested before snatching the sword out of your hands. She grunted slightly at the heavy weight, almost dropping it, but she quickly steadied it. Looking up at you with a smug, slightly reddened face, she shook slightly. “See? It’s not that hard.”

You quirked an eyebrow beneath your mask, “oh really?”

“Y-yep,” was all she managed to choke out before she stepped back and dropped the tip. It swung down and buried itself inside the dirt below, scouring the earth as it made contact.

Smirking at her, you took it back with ease, putting it back into its sheath slung around your back. You once again stepped around her and started walking in the other direction.

“Where are you going?!”

“To the castle, you said you wanted me to take you home.”  

She rushed to your side and grabbed your arm with both of her hands. They snaked around your bicep and tangled themselves in your cape. You could feel yourself soar at the contact; you had to fight against every instinct to hook your arm with hers. You ripped yourself out of her embrace and put some distance between the both of you.

She crossed her arms and hugged herself, shivering slightly, “how are you not cold?!”

“It’s barely cold out here,” you mentally scolded yourself for being a hypocrite, “you’ll be fine.”

She said nothing and continued to walk. As you got further and further into the forest, she merely started shivering more. You could hear her teeth chattering loudly and could see goosebumps decorating the skin on her bare arms. Sighing, you unhooked your cape and slung it over her shoulders.

She squeaked in surprise at the feeling before realizing that you gave her your cape. She grabbed the edges and pulled it closer to her before snuggling deeper into the cloth; you could feel your heart explode at the small sigh that she let out and the content hum that left her mouth. Just as she looked up at you, you made quick work of looking away. The ground was very fascinating at the moment.

“Thank you,” she murmured. You just curtly nodded, avoiding looking at her.

The walk to the castle was short, luckily she hadn’t run far from her home. Just as the castle walls were in your sights, she tried holding your arm again. Once again, you stepped away from her.

“C’mon,” she chuckled, “I don’t bite.”

“Well I do. You really need to learn not to trust a stranger, princess.”

“Well, we aren’t strangers. We know each other’s names, do we not? And besides, I bet you’re just a massive teddy bear.”

“I don’t know what your teddy bears looked like as a kid, but they certainly weren’t me. If I wanted to, I could take your hand clean off with a single twist and pull,” you growled out. She was silent once more as she led you towards a specific part of the castle.

“...Why are you so defensive? At least treat me like you did before we knew each other!” She unhooked the cape and shoved it towards you. You gladly took it and put it back on. To your sheer embarrassment, you felt joy as you caught a whiff of books and expensive perfume. It smelled like her.

“...I could’ve just left you back there if I wanted to, consider this a favor. Respect is earned, not given. Even to royalty.”

You turned to leave, you cape swishing behind you as you turned. Before you could walk off, a hand on your arm stopped you. “Wait. Even if you’re a massive jerk,” she sighed out, “I still have to thank you. So, thank you for saving my life; I’m indebted to you, my douchey knight.”

She leant up on the tips of her toes and gently placed her lips on your cheek. You froze and watched as she turned on her heel. She walked towards the entrance with several glances back at you, some of them being smug and others being questioning. It was like you were entranced underneath the veil of a spell, unable to move until she disappeared from sight.

The walk home was quiet with no mobs sneaking up on you. The entire time, the memory of her kissing your cheek replayed endlessly in your head. Though the very thing you disliked more than anything was embodied in her, you couldn’t help but fall for the natural charm she had. You were probably just tired, it was getting late into the night after all.

As you walked through the door, you could see Technoblade impatiently waiting for you on the couch. He had a book open in his hand and his half-rimmed glasses were perched on the bridge of his snout.

“You’re late.”

“Sorry, I just ran into more mobs than I anticipated.”

Technoblade said nothing as his eyes flickered over your body, looking for even the smallest of scrapes. When he didn’t find anything, he nodded to himself and stood up. Tiredly, he walked over to you and ruffled your hair before trudging to his room.

“Are you sure the only thing you ran into was mobs?”

“Yeah,” you cleared your throat, “just a lot of zombies.”

He rolled his eyes and gave you a knowing smile before walking over to you. He swiped his thumb across your cheek and showed it to you. It was stained with a light pink color. “In all of the centuries I spent living in this world, not once have I seen a zombie wearing pink lipstick or,” he took your cape in his hand and sniffed it slightly, “cherry scented perfume.”

Your face exploded in heat as you made hasty work of scrubbing your cheek making the older man laugh quietly at you, “all you’re doing is smudging it all over your face. Some warm water and soap will get it off fast… Now, wanna tell me who gave you that?”

You stared at his smug expression and quickly came to the realization that he wouldn’t let this go unless you told him. Or, at least until you told him what happened.

You sighed and started to remove your armor, placing it on the armor stand situated between Philza’s and Technoblade’s armor. You had insisted that the armor stands were in this specific order, it just made sense with the height differences between the members of the household. Since you were between Philza’s and Technoblade’s height at 6’4 (and still growing), it made sense with the order of the armor in terms of size.

You made your way over to the couch and sat down with a sigh, Philza following suit. He gave you a reassuring smile, “whenever you’re ready.”

So you told him everything that had happened that day. Needless to say, Philza was happy for you, asking you questions about the interaction.

“It sounds like she’s perfect for you, kiddo.”

“That’s the thing, Uncle Phil. She isn’t,” you ran a hand down your face and leaned back onto the back of the couch, your head resting on the top of the cushion. You heard Philza shift slightly before he grabbed your hand.

“Now,” he asked gently, “what makes you think that?”

“She’s King Eret’s daughter. Helen Dahlia Eret,” you sardonically chuckled, “I really thought she was just joking when she said ‘princess’.” Every part of you wished that that was a joke. That she would laugh and tell you that it was part of the game she was playing. But no, she just had to be royalty.

“Eret’s better than most, they are a good king,” he reminded you.

“Still, there’s royal blood in her. She’s actively a part of a government… I wanted to kill her on the spot; hell everything in my body was screaming at me to slaughter her, but I didn’t. I couldn’t.”

“Sometimes, someone is more than the blood inside of them; maybe she isn’t as bad as you think she is. Someone could be born into a family of saints and still destroy everything they touch. On the other hand, someone could be born surrounded by the lowest of humanity and grow up to become the best person you’ll ever meet. You have to understand that blood isn’t everything to a person’s character.”

You didn’t say anything, contemplating what he said. She didn’t seem like someone to rule with an iron fist, and neither did her parent. Tubbo was the first person to come to mind. He was raised by a malicious, tyrannical idiot, a man that had valued absolute power and booze over anything else. Your uncle turned out to be the most caring person you’ve ever met, always making sure that those around him are in a good mood even if he himself wasn’t.

However, it’s best to be cautious of somebody. Your mind flashed back to Wilbur and Dream, the two men rotting away in Pandora’s Vault together until either their time alive is up or time itself expires. They were charismatic and kind on the outside, but on the inside, they are two of the most heinous men you’ve ever met. 

It seemed like your mind was running in circles, bouncing between both conclusions like it was being slammed between two surfaces.

“...Do you think you’ll see her again?” Philza asked you, rubbing a thumb over your knuckles and squeezing it comfortingly when you didn’t respond immediately.

You sighed, standing up and walking out of the room, “if the odds are in our favor, we won’t see each other any time soon.”

                                          ✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

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[stolen-pen-name23]

Hi! Could you do 7 or 21 of the angst prompts for Obi Wan and Ahsoka please?

Hi! Thank you for the prompt (from these prompts)!! And yes, I can do both actually! Here ya go:

---

“You are so stupid.”

The words are dry — at least, Ahsoka hopes they are dry enough to hide the very real fear lingering behind them.

“Thanks,” Obi-Wan says between clenched teeth, obviously not hearing the full emotion behind Ahsoka’s sentiment. He is sitting across from her in the co-pilot’s chair — a bundle of bloodstained robes and tightened shoulders as he breathes through the pain. She shoots him another glare while she digs through the medkit, searching for a set of tweezers.

“Going after a bounty hunter who was carrying a slugthrower,” Ahsoka mutters. “What were you thinking?���

“Well, I—”

“No, don’t answer that,” Ahsoka says, raising her hand. “I already have the answer. You weren’t thinking.”

“Now hold on,” Obi-Wan pants. “We couldn’t let them capture the senator now, could we? We had a mission.”

“Yeah, and you made me stay behind and guard the other senators.”

“It was a very important task,” he says defensively.

“You made me their babysitter because you knew that going after Bane was dangerous. You knew and you went anyway.”

“To be fair,” Obi-Wan says, “he’s never used slugthrowers before.”

“And so what? You didn’t think he’d actually use it on you?”

“I was cautiously optimistic.”

“Look where that got you,” Ahsoka says, shaking her head. She continues rifling through the medkit until she finally finds a set of tweezers and a small scalpel. Obi-Wan eyes both items warily.

“I need to get a better look at the wound before I do anything,” Ahsoka says, trying to keep him calm, despite her current anger at him.

“Alright,” he nods, looking like he’s trying to reassure himself.

Ahsoka cuts through the fabric of his tunics and his undershirts and pulls them away. Underneath, a circular wound mars Obi-Wan’s skin. His muscles are tight, instinctively clenching in a vain attempt to ward off the pain.

“Hmmm.”

“What?” Obi-Wan asks.

“I have good news and bad news.”

“Do share.”

“The bad news is the bullet didn’t go all the way through. The good news is that it looks like it didn’t go too deep, so it shouldn’t be too hard for me to get it out. I won’t be needing this.” She sets the scalpel aside.

“Well, as long as there’s good news,” Obi-Wan sighs. “Though I suppose there was never a silver lining without a dark cloud behind it.”

“No, I suppose not,” Ahsoka says, offering him a sympathetic smile. “I need to get this out. You’ll get an infection if I don’t.”

“I know,” Obi-Wan says, resigned. “Let’s just get on with it then.”

Ahsoka takes a deep breath and relies on the Force to steady her hand. She presses the tweezers into the wound. A harsh breath escapes Obi-Wan’s lips, but he does not cry out. Ahsoka takes that as a sign to keep going. She pinches the bullet between the tweezers, but she slips and digs the metal deeper into the torn-up flesh.

Obi-Wan gasps and pulls away from Ahsoka.

“Sorry!” Ahsoka exclaims.

“It’s alright,” Obi-Wan pants, blinking back tears that had pooled in his eyes on reflex. “Just keep going.”

Ahsoka nods and goes back in with the tweezers, but Obi-Wan flinches back. Ahsoka tries again, and he recoils to the side.

“Stop that. Hold still,” Ahsoka says, exasperated.

“Sorry,” he says. “I’m just not used to this kind of wound”

“Yeah well… that’s what happens when you go after a bounty hunter who is openly wielding a slugthrower.”

“Alright, I get it,” Obi-Wan says, deflating slightly.

“I don’t think you do,” Ahsoka grimaces. “Now for real this time. Stay still.”

Obi-Wan nods tightly, while Ahsoka hones back in on the wound. She gets the tweezers around the bullet once more, and this time, they don’t slip. Slowly, she maneuvers the bullet out of Obi-Wan’s flesh until it clatters on the floor with a metallic ringing sound.

Ahsoka stares, frozen in place as the wound bleeds openly. Obi-Wan’s blood runs down his side now that there is no bullet to dam up its path.

“Oh,” Ahsoka says dumbly. “I always forget that slugthrower wounds don’t cauterize.”

“Yes, well, they don’t,” Obi-Wan says. Ahsoka glares at him. “Go get a needle and thread, I’ll put pressure on it.”

Ahsoka hands him a semi-clean rag and he presses it to his stomach. His breaths become a little more ragged.

“Hang in there Master,” Ahsoka says as she finds a sewing kit. She measures out a length of thread and cuts it. The eye of the needle is tiny and she struggles to get the thread to go through it.

“Maybe we should have prepared the needle before we took out the bullet,” Obi-Wan observes dryly.

“Why didn’t you tell me to do that?” Ahsoka asks, her voice going higher in pitch as she desperately tries to thread the needle.

“I was preoccupied, you know, with being shot.”

“That is your own kriffing fault and you know it,” Ahsoka retaliates.

Ahsoka calls on the Force to steady her hand once again. Finally, the thread obeys her commands and pushes through the eye of the needle. With deft fingers, she ties it off.

“Ready?”

From his tight nod, it is clear that Obi-Wan is not ready, but he knows as well as she does that there is little time for hesitation.

“Alright,” Ahsoka says, trying to keep her voice sure and even. “I’ll be quick.”

“I know,” Obi-Wan says.

Ahsoka is true to her word. She finishes the stitches in a manner of a few minutes. By the end of it, Obi-Wan is pale and sweating, but gratitude shines in his eyes.

“Done,” Ahsoka says after she ties off the end of the thread.

“Thank you Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan says. “I’ll be sure to come to you the next time I’m shot.”

“You’re impossible. Absolutely impossible. You know that right?”

“Well, Anakin is actually—”

“I’m not talking about Anakin, I’m talking about you,” Ahsoka huffs, suddenly feeling irked by Obi-Wan’s casualness. Now that he has been stitched back together, she has time to feel the anger starting to flood her bloodstream.

“Ahsoka…”

“Everyone thinks Anakin is the reckless one, and maybe he is, but when he’s not around to be the reckless one… Well, it’s like you don’t care if you live or you die.”

Obi-Wan looks down at his bloodstained hands. “Of course I care.”

She stops messing with the medkit and looks Obi-Wan dead in the eyes. “Then why are you always so reckless huh? Do you ever think about what would happen if something happened to you?”

“Life would go on without me, Ahsoka. If it’s the will of the Force…”

“Do not bring ‘the will of the Force’ into this. I’m talking about when you pull stunts like this.”

Obi-Wan is silent — the smooth-talking negotiator finally at a loss for words.

“Master,” Ahsoka says quietly. “If you died… I would be devastated.”

“Ahsoka…”

She doesn’t let him continue. “My feelings aside, think about Anakin. Do you know what would happen to him if he lost you? I can’t watch him go through that for a second time.”

Obi-Wan pales and Ahsoka isn’t sure if it’s from the blood loss or the words she is mercilessly volleying at him. She continues anyway.

“It would almost be worse than losing you. I know how to let go, but he… I don’t know what he would do if he lost you. He can’t… that can’t happen again.”

“I want to tell you it won’t.”

“Then tell me.”

“I can’t,” he says, his jaw tight with either pain or sorrow. Perhaps both.

“Please, just…”

“No. I will not make you a promise I can’t keep. Not while we’re in a war. Not ever.”

“Then promise me something else,” Ahsoka insists, grabbing his hand in hers and looking him directly in his ocean blue eyes.

He looks at her wearily. “What?”

“Promise you’ll stop being so reckless,”

“What did I just say about making promises I can’t keep?” Obi-Wan grins. Ahsoka lightly smacks his shoulder.

“Promise me you’ll try then!” Ahsoka amends.

“I’ll try,” he laughs. “I promise.”

Slowly, Obi-Wan stands up but has to steady himself on a leather handle affixed to the ceiling.

“I would love to continue this conversation,” Obi-Wan says, his voice starting to slur ever so slightly. “But I think I need to lie down. Or throw up. Or both.”

Ahsoka grimaces and hands him a canteen. “Drink,” she says. “You need to stay hydrated.”

“Need to lie down,” he repeats.

“Drink, and then you can lie down.”

Obi-Wan nods and takes a few sips from the offered canteen. He passes it back to her before curling up on a small bunk just outside of the cockpit. A slight shiver racks his frame and Ahsoka grabs a blanket and lays it over him. He hums in contentment.

“Are you going to be okay until we get to the temple?” Ahsoka asks nervously.

“Yes. The adrenaline’s just wearing off and the blood loss is catching up with me. I’ll be okay.” Ahsoka stares at him a moment longer. “I promise,” Obi-Wan adds on.

“You better keep that one.”

“I will.” A pause. “I am sorry,” he says. “I didn’t want to scare you. And I didn’t want to get shot.”

“I know,” Ahsoka says. “Just get some rest. We’ll be home soon.”

[leafs-lover]

Because Two People Got Drunk

Full Circle

Series Masterlist

A/N: This piece takes place when the kids are teenagers. Elise is 14 almost 15. The twins almost 16 and Oliver 18.

Warnings: Swearing, drinking, angst, cheating, heartache

Word Count: 4500

“Mom you should go talk to Elise,” Oliver says walking into the kitchen and heading straight for the fridge. Busying yourself with dinner, cutting up some vegetables you gently set the knife on the counter and turn your eyes to meet him. Fred locks his phone as a confused crease presses onto his forehead.

“She just came home, she was crying,” Oliver further explains, tugging the door open.

Noah, completely oblivious to the situation walks up to Oliver, giving him a playful shove to get into the fridge. “Your mom is literally making dinner right now,” Fred mumbles, shaking his head at his forever growing boys.

Currently there is quite a size difference between your sons, mostly because of their ages. The twins are almost 16 and Oliver will be 19 in the fall. It’s not that there is a major height difference, it’s more their frames. Oliver, through his time in the OHL recently begun to fill out with his time in the gym where the twins have a smaller musculature. Not to say they aren’t closing the gap, just that there is a ways to go.

“Did you ask her what’s wrong?” you ask, knowing Elise and Oliver have always had a close relationship. Noah and Lucas being identical twins, always had a strong bond but your oldest became attached to Elise from the day she came home. The two of them FaceTime multiple times a week when he is in London, and you have countless pictures of her curled up in his bed when they were kids, and you’re fairly confident that she confides a fair bit in her older brother.

“Dude fuck off,” Oliver chuckles when Noah gives him yet another soft shove while reaching in for a snack.

“Dude language,” Fred says in a firm but mocking tone, causing your two sons to stop their horseplay and look towards you with heat on their cheeks.

“She walked in and I could tell she had been crying. I asked her what was wrong and she said fuck off,” he repeats the words again, “before running upstairs and slamming her door.”

You sigh and Fred gets up from his spot, coming up beside you he places one hand on your back and the other reaching for your wrist. Grabbing the knife from your hand he leans in closer to your ear speaking in a soft tone, “I got this babe.”

“Kay,” you sigh, walking out of the kitchen towards your daughter’s room.

You hear her before you even get to the door. Her sobs are slightly muffled through the closed door but you can hear her whimpers and your heart breaks into a million pieces. Just when you think it can’t break any more you slowly open the door and see her. Curled up on her bed, Maggie tight to her chest, slowly running her hands through her fur as she whimpers against her. The sight of her so tightly clinging to Maggie shatters the few remaining pieces you had left.

As the door creaks open Maggie’s ears perk up at the sound but she doesn’t move; knowing where she is needed. Sensing Elise’s pain.

You crawl into the bed on the other side of Maggie. Maggie doesn’t flinch as you start to scratch behind her ear, her big dark brown eyes pleading at you to help. After a few deep shuddering breaths Elise’s eyes flick up to yours, red and puffy, glossy with tears. Her eyes close as some warm tears continue to fall, rolling down her cheeks. The only sound is her sniffles and sobs while the three of you lie there, squished against each other.

“What’s going on baby?” you ask, noticing her sobs are few and far between, chest no longer heaving. Lightly brushing the hair off her forehead and behind her ear.

“Nothing.” She tries to placate but her words are hollow.

“Kay.” You slowly run your hands through her hair, “well I’m just going to stay here with my girls for a little bit.”

She nods slightly, you know she just needs some more time before she is ready to talk. You know she was out with Alexis last night, and spent the night at her place. She called you in the morning and said she was going to stay a little bit longer, but would be home in time for dinner and she seemed fine then, even happy, but that was over six hours ago.

Apparently the life of an almost 15 year old can fall apart in six hours.

“Blake,” she finally whispers, causing you to sigh.

Blake is her boyfriend, they have been together for over a year, though you think they have been off and on during that time. He is a year older than her, and plays on the soccer team with Lucas, but the two of them aren’t friends. Lucas never said why they don’t get along, but whenever he is over, neither he nor Noah spend much time talking to him.

Because of that Fred doesn’t like him.

He says there must be an obvious reason why your two sons dislike this boy, the boy who is the same age as them. They have classes, and play on some teams together. While it’s not assumed they would be best friends, at the very least he would expect them to be cordial. However, whenever Blake is over there is an obvious tension between them.

“You guys get in a fight sweetie?” you ask.

Giving you a half nod, a whimpered, “yes,” falls from her quivering lips. You bring your thumb to her eye to wipe away her tears. “You can talk to me about it if you want. Believe it or not I was a teenager once, even had some boyfriends before your father.”

“Promise you won’t get mad.”

“Of course baby, why would I?” you ask softly, but you can sense the dread lacing her tone. Keeping your thumb on her cheek, never pulling your eyes off of her, you continue to brush the tears that haven’t stopped rolling down her cheek.

Taking a deep breath she starts talking, her voice somewhat uneasy, “last night I went to a party with Blake and some of friends.” She stops to examine your face but you keep the same expression even after hearing she lied to you. The preference would have been for her to tell you she is going to a party instead of lying about being at a friends, something teenage you was all to familiar with. But, whether or not you like it, lying to your parents is a part of being a teenager. Keeping your eyes soft and full of concern, you wait for her to continue.

“We went upstairs to a room and started kissing–“ she trails off. You feel your body wanting to stiffen, hearing that your daughter could be sexually active. You didn’t expect her to wait forever, but 14 seems a little young for her to be heading down that path. That’s just your opinion and ultimately her choice.

“Well he wanted it to go further, but I didn’t.”

If at all possible that sentence pulls all the oxygen from the room, leaving you struggling to breathe. “He didn’t –“ you start to ask. Trying to remain calm your heart begins to beat erratically imagining all the ways that sentence could end. All of the horrible things that could have unfolded.

“No Mom, nothing like that” your heart begins to beat like normal as you calm down. “I told him I wanted to stop, he got mad and we fought. He said we’ve been together for a year and all his friends were doing stuff so we should be too. But I just…I’m not ready, so I left and went downstairs, Alexis and I left and went back to her place for the night.”

You continue to run your hand over her cheek, proud of your daughter for standing up for herself. Not giving in to the pressure he was putting her under.

“Before I dated your father I went on a date with someone, his name was Mike. It was just one date, but he made multiple comments about just being there for sex before we even finished our salads. On the drive home he tried to take things to a place where I didn’t want them to go. I did exactly what you did, I got out of the situation and to a safe space. I am so proud of you babygirl for sticking up for yourself and breaking up with him. But, I am so sorry you had to do that, you shouldn’t have had to deal with that”, tears have pricked the edges of your eyes. “You never should have been in that situation. He shouldn’t have put you in that situation.”

You bring your hand to hers and give it a tight squeeze sending her a soft smile. You can sense there is something more to this story because she falls quiet turning her attention back to Maggie gently scratching the top of her head. You hear her mumble a few words but her voice cracks and you can’t make out what she said.

“What was that baby?”

“I said he cheated on me,” she repeats, her voice softer than a whisper. Her bottom lip begins to tremble as tears well in her eyes once again.

Your back stiffens at her words and you stop brushing her tears away. Taking a deep sigh you squeeze her hand once again, “I’m so sorry” you say as she looks at you. Her eyes are broken as her bottom lip trembles, struggling to not break down. Through your lifetime you have gone through an insurmountable amount of pain, but you’d go through it all again if you could stop hers.

“Before we left the party he said if I wouldn’t sleep with him he would find someone else that would. Some of my friends saw him kissing another girl and told me about it earlier today.” Her body starts to shake again as tears spill onto her cheek. “He says they just kissed.”

“That doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t be with someone who says that, let alone does that,” you grumble bitterly.

“My heart hurts mom, like really hurts,” she sobs. “It feels like someone punched it out of my chest. I’m so mad, absolutely infuriated but I want to call him. I want to hug him and accept his apology.” Her voice sounds just as broken as you are, her eyes are dark and baggy as she tries to mask her pain. “He always knows how to make me feel better.”

“I get it baby, it’s hard to be cheated on. Your head wants to be the voice of reason but your heart struggles to accept it and let it go.”

“You were cheated on?” she asks bringing her eyes up to yours.

“Yeah” you sigh trailing off. “Your dad kissed another woman.”

“WHAT!” she exclaims, her tone alarms Maggie whose head pops up.

“It was years ago, when I was pregnant with Lucas and Noah. He kissed someone at a bar while out of town for hockey.”

Her eyes go wide darting across your face, trying to process what you said. The two of you lie silently, your eyes flicking over hers, her eyes flicking over you. All three boys took Fred’s eyes but not Elise, she has yours. Looking at her is like looking in a mirror, a younger mirror.

“So you think I should forgive him? I mean you forgave dad,” she finally asks.

“That was different.” Over the years you have thought about it less and less, to the point it’s a distant memory. But today in this moment everything comes flooding back. You can feel your blood begin to boil, reliving that time.

“If you didn’t have kids would you have forgiven him?”

“Honestly,” you sigh, “I don’t know. It took me a week and a half to even talk to him. But if we didn’t have kids I wouldn’t have stayed in the house. I would have went to a hotel and who knows how long I would have waited to talk to him, if I ever did.”

You trail off for a minute, “if you do decide to forgive him, and I’m not saying you should or shouldn’t, only you can make that decision hun. But if you do decide to or even consider forgiving him, just make sure you talk it out. Get everything out in the open now. Your dad and I were going to start the process of talking about what happened and then I got in the car accident. When the dust settled I brushed him off not bothering to talk about it, said it wasn’t important. Months later I saw him talking to a woman and got super jealous. I didn’t realize how fractured our trust still was because we never talked about it. So, take your time, I took over a week to think about it. You have to be 100% with your decision. If you go down that route, make sure you lay it all out now, no matter how hard it is.”

She nods slightly turning her attention back to Maggie. The three of you lie silently for a few minutes before she lets out a heavy, exhaustive sigh. “I’m kind of tired mom, I think I want to have a nap.”

“Of course,” you rise off the bed and kiss her forehead. “You know where to find me baby,” you say walking out the door, shutting it softly on your way out.

“How’s she doing?” Fred asks when you walk back into the kitchen. You mumble under your breath and head to the wine room, pulling a bottle and two glasses. You pour one for yourself, handing the other to Fred who makes no attempt to grab it, instead his eyes are trained on you.

Setting his on the counter, you bring yours to your lips, faintly smelling the apple and pears before pouring it all in your mouth in one quick motion. Fred’s eyes continue to dart over yours trying to get a read on the situation. You can tell with every second he becomes more concerned, but you just need a minute.

“Her and Blake,” you trail off, pouring yourself another hefty glass. You aren’t sure how to finish the sentence, so you lift the glass, swirling it in your hand before dropping it back down, “he cheated on her.”

“WHAT!” his voice echoes through the entire kitchen.

“He kissed someone else,” you say lightly, unsure if he even heard you.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he yells over you.

“Nope,” you pop the P.

Bringing the glass up to your lips and take a large drink, glaring at him over the rim of your glass. There is a large pit in your stomach, partially for your daughter but also because of your husband’s indiscretion many years ago.

“What a scumbag,” he unclenches his fist, his large palm hitting the counter. The noise while loud doesn’t even phase you, but you do see Noah poke his head around the corner at the commotion. You don’t say anything instead you move to the island taking a seat while Fred processes.

His face is pure red, you can almost see the steam leaving his ears. Pacing around the kitchen he abandons the wine glass, heading over to the bar pulling out a bottle of whiskey. He sits beside you bottle in hand, you can hear his uneasy breathing. He mumbles in Danish under his breath slowly drinking his whiskey.

“At least she isn’t with him anymore, he can’t hurt her anymore.”

“She might stay with him,” you respond, taking another drink.

“What! Why would she do that? He cheated on her! What kind of person stays with someone who cheats on them?”

His tone gets louder, more intense with every word. He likely didn’t anticipate that coming out as harsh and critical as it did, but it did, and it burns. Processing what he said, you begin to feel stupid, embarrassed, but also irritable. Your skin crawls whilst simultaneously feeling numb.

You were that person.

You stayed with him after he cheated.

“I did,” you finally whisper turning to look at Fred. His eyes soften with the realization of what he said about you. “I stayed with you…and you…you kissed someone else.”

“You kissed another woman!” Lucas yells. Both of you turn your attention to the other side of the room, having no idea he was there. His announcement captures Oliver and Noah’s attention and they both quickly make their way into the kitchen. Three sets of brown eyes glare at you with matching expressions, shock.

Turning to Fred you see the panic on his face, eyes are wide and he is shifting uncomfortably on his seat. His face is red, no longer with anger but with embarrassment.

“Yes,” he huffs, awkwardly shifting in his seat. “When she was pregnant with you two, I um…I kissed someone one night at a bar. It was one time, one kiss and I felt terrible, still do.”

“But I forgave you because that was my choice, just like its E’s choice if she wants to forgive Blake,” you explain. “We just have to support her no matter what she decides.”

“He cheated on her!” Noah exclaims. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Just wait for practice tomorrow,” Lucas mutters under his breath.

“Luke,” you warn, but he just shakes his head, mumbling more and more under his breath.

Everyone is very uneasy. Uneasy with hearing Elise was cheated on. Uneasy with the news that Fred cheated on you. Uneasy about everything. Tension rapidly builds in the kitchen, nobody saying anything as you finish the wine in your glass.

“I’m gonna go see her,” Oliver says, leaving the rest of you.

The four of you stay in the kitchen, the twins with many questions. This was never meant to be a secret from them, there was just never a reason to bring it up. And this wasn’t supposed to be the way they would find out.

Fred answers most of them while you sit silently, swirling the wine that sits in the glass. Most of the voices fade into the background and you are unable to look at Fred. The cut from him kissing another woman is fresh, not an old wound, but it stings as bad as when you first found out.

“How are you doing?” Fred asks finding you in the living room. The fireplace is on low, the only light as you sit in almost pure darkness. Curled under the blanket with a glass of wine that’s now warm, a half eaten plate of dinner resting on the coffee table.

You always eat dinner together on Sunday’s. Ideally the six of you would eat together every night, but between everyone’s activities, friends, dates, school assignments, you are lucky to find another night. But Sunday, that is the night, no matter what you all eat together. Sometimes Mitch and Steph will join you with Charlie and Steven, other times one or all of your kids partners join you. No matter what, at least the six of you sit down for dinner.

Not tonight.

Fred and the twins ate dinner in a relative silence, the only sound knives scratching the plates. Oliver brought a plate of food upstairs for him and Elise and you haven’t seen either of them sine. Wanting some space, you brought yours into the living room. Not the living room where the family has movie nights or opens presents on Christmas morning, but the other living room. The one at the front of the house, with couches that rarely get sat on, walls that rarely hear voices.

“Alright,” you respond, as he sits on the couch beside you. It’s not entirely the truth but also not entirely a lie. “Haven’t thought about it in a while.”

“Want to talk about it?” he asks and you shake your head.

“Honestly, I don’t see a point in hitting a nail on the head. It was years ago and we talked about it, with what she’s going through, it brings it up a bit.”

“Yeah I know,” he sighs, it’s evident the strain of this afternoon has taken its toll on him. His eyes are hollow, movement slow, lingering weight pressing on his shoulders.

“I’m just worried about E,” you say.

“She’s a smart girl, strong, just like her mom. She’ll be fine,” his thumb gently soothes over your ankle. A small smile pricks the corner of your lips. Sitting in silence the low crackling of the fire is all that you can hear, Elise still in her room and the boys somewhere, watching something quietly. Your head falls against the back of the couch as Fred moves his hand around to gently massage the ball of your foot.

The light in the hall flickers on followed by Maggie’s nails clicking against the hardwood floor. Your head pops up when Elise walks in, watching as she opens the sliding door to let Maggie out. “Hey sweetie,” Fred says, following her as she walks around the couch. Her shoulders are heavy and head hangs low, face is puffy but her eyes are no longer red.

“Hi Daddy,” she replies, sitting on the other side of Fred. Pulling your legs away Elise curls in to Fred’s lap, her head resting on his shoulder. He quickly engulfs her in his arms, letting her head fall onto his shoulder. “Why do boys suck?” Her brows crease, tone heavy with anger and frustration.

“I don’t know,” Fred sighs, gently soothing his thumb over her shoulder.

“You suck,” Elise mutters quietly.

“What was that E?” he asks.

“I said you suck,” she repeats, louder this time, bringing her eyes up to his. “You cheated on mom so you suck too!”

“I know,” Fred agrees with a sigh, not even attempting to argue that sentiment. “I’m a dick.”

Smirking slightly at her as you nod along, Elise chuckles, likely the first time all day. “Why’d you do it?” she asks him.

“Honestly E, I don’t have a reason, there isn’t one. There is never an explanation or justification for it. I’m just lucky your mom gave me a second chance.”

“Should I give him a second chance?” she asks with a contemplative exhale.

“Only you can answer that E,” he hums, trying to hide his preferred opinion.

One of the things you and Fred have always wanted is your kids to build independence. To be their own people and make their own decisions. Lucas did that at 13 when he said he wanted to quit hockey. He was so nervous to tell Fred, thinking that he’d be disappointed. But all you have ever wanted is for them to make a decision and be proud of it, to stick with it.

Obviously if it was something that would jeopardize themselves or someone else you would immediately step in, but otherwise they need to live their lives. Sometimes that means making a choice you aren’t entirely thrilled about, a choice they come to regret. But everything will lead to them becoming better and stronger individuals as a result.

“Did it surprise you? When you found out, were you shocked to hear he kissed someone else or was there a part of you that almost felt it coming?”

Both of them turn to look at you, matching confused expressions evident on their faces. Furrowed brows and scrunched up noses, trying to understand your question.

“When your dad…when I found out, I was completely and wholeheartedly shocked. I never in million years thought he would do that,” you explain. Catching the heartbreak on Fred’s face you don’t stop, “I think that’s why I forgave him. It was so out of character for him, I knew he’d never do it again.” Blinking away the tears that threaten to spill, Fred cracks a small half smile while he softly squeezes your ankle.

Nobody says anything. The fireplace flickers red off everyone’s face, the sound of shaky breaths and a few sniffles all that can be heard. Seconds turn to minutes as everything continues to fade further and further away.

“It didn’t,” Elise is the one to break the silence. “It didn’t surprise me,” she sighs heavily. Placing a kiss on Fred’s cheek she pushes away from him and off the couch and heads down the hall, leaving you two alone.

“I’m so sorry elskede.” Turning his attention to you and tugging your leg, you slide into his lap. Feeling a warm kiss to your temple, your head lands on his shoulder, the gentle beating of his heart pulsing against your ear. “Sorry I put you through that,” lifting your chin, his lips brush against yours, “I don’t deserve you.”

“I love you,” you simply state, kissing him back.

Walking into the living room, Maggie circles her feet. “Elise!” Noah calls out moving over to create some space. “E-money,” Lucas beckons.

“I hate when you call me that,” her face scrunches up.

“That’s why I do it,” he laughs as she grabs the bowl of popcorn from him and falls onto the couch.

“I don’t want to watch the Raptors,” she groans. Reaching for the remote in an attempt to turn it off Noah quickly pulls it away from her.

“Just because your upset doesn’t mean you get to be a bitch,” Noah jokes, a devilish grin on his face.

“Noah,” she whines, giving him a slight nudge with her foot. "Blake used to watch the Raptors games all the time.”

“Oh my god,” Noah grumbles. Running his hand through his copper hair he sighs before changing the channel, “you can’t use that again for an entire week.”

“So you want me to beat him up or what?” Lucas winks.

“A little bit,” Elise laughs, somewhat jokingly.

“Soccer ball to the face enough? Or do I need to really rough him up for ya?” he asks with a smirk.

“Whatever you want Luke,” she shakes her head.

“Obviously a soccer ball isn’t enough, the fuck kind of question is that?” Noah laughs.

“I can’t punch him in the face if she is going to get back together with him,” Lucas explains, as if it’s the most obvious thing.

“I’m not getting back with him,” Elise states.

“Good, never liked him,” Noah grins, grabbing a handful of popcorn.

“Kids a jackass,” Lucas says, causing the three of them to laugh.

Hearing the laughter from down the hall you begin to feel at ease for the first time in almost five hours. “She’s gonna be fine,” you whisper against Fred’s chest.

“With you as a mom? I never had any doubt."

Taglist: If you are in this list you have expressed interest in the series (either through likes/reblogs or by asking). If it’s crossed out your tag didn’t work. If you would like to be removed or added to the list send me an ask:

@mandypants95 @hockeyjedi13 @hockeyunits @meishaabae @localcalumhoe @dana-hqy @sixmapleleafs @puccbunni @starswin @hockeyinaussie @je-ne-regrette-rien @mollybirk @daniellepulice72

[missymurphy1985]

The Extra (part four)

Warning - smut (you've been waiting long enough, dontcha think?)

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @peakyciills @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @noctvrnalmoth @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @namelesslosers @misscarolineshelby @screemqueen @cilleveryone @peaky-cillian @misselsbells06 @datewithgianni @heidimoreton

"No! No, no, no, no, no!" Your eyes were glaring at Anto that Friday morning. If looks could kill he'd have keeled over on the spot. It was your last day of filming, you were waiting for the script for your dramatic death scene at the hands of Billy Kimber. The script you'd just been handed was not what you were expecting.

"Y/n, it's a key scene, it's twenty seconds of your life!"

"I am not filming a sex scene with Cillian Murphy!!" You were so angry you may actually have growled at him.

"The script can't be rewritten this late on!"

"Funny how you didn't mention this when you persuaded me to take the job on."

"Because I knew you'd say no."

"Because you knew I'd say no!!! I was a stage actress Anto, we didn't exactly do this in the theatre! I've never done one of these before and I certainly don't want to do one with him!"

"Billy Kimber needs to attack when Tommy is at his most vulnerable. The only character who can make him vulnerable is Clara. She seduces him, they have sex in the Garrison, Billy Kimber's men ambush you and slice your throat, it's literally a few minutes and it's over. That's it - you're done!"

"It was 20 seconds earlier."

"The sex is 20 seconds."

"Ouch." Cillian entered Anto's office trailer at the wrong moment. "20 seconds? Jesus."

"Okay we're not filming the whole thing obviously.."

"We're not filming any of it!" You spat.

"Anto can we not rework it? Does it have to be sex? Y/n is clearly uncomfortable, it's her first TV role? Surely a kiss would do the job?"

"Tommy needs to be completely distracted - sex is his only weakness Cillian, you know that." Cillian couldn't argue with Anto on that one.

"Y/n, how about we go over it together in private first? Just you and me, we can work it out?" Cillian's hand on your shoulder calmed you down, but you were still seething with Anto.

"Fine." You gave Anto another death stare and followed Cillian to his car. "Where are we going?"

"For a drive - I'm concerned for Anto's safety if you stay on set!" He pulled out his keys and unlocked the car. You climbed into the passenger seat and let out a huge sigh.

"You know, if it's me you're worried about don't be? I've done a fair few of these now, they don't bother me?" He said as he pulled out of the car park.

"It's not that, it's just.. I'm embarrassed. I've only - " you stopped speaking, suddenly feeling extremely stupid.

"Go on?"

"It's stupid... Promise me you won't tell anyone?"

"You have my word."

"Okay... I've only had sex with one person, my ex. We were together for 5 years.. he wasn't exactly - " you couldn't even find the words.

"He was shit in bed?" Blunt much?

"Worse. Literally 10 minutes if you're lucky and lights out."

"You're kidding? Ten minutes? I've had quickies that lasted longer than that, Jesus... There's no way you even came from that, surely? Wait don't answer that, shit, that was a bit personal, sorry.."

"No it's okay - I'm about to film a scene where you're fucking me across a bar table, I think personal questions are okay don't you?"

"It's against the bar itself actually." You had to laugh - missionary was the most exciting position you'd ever tried - Mike wasn't exactly adventurous.

"So you're up for filming it then?" He asked.

"What choice do I have? But I warn you, I'll be shit. I don't know what to do."

"Few moans, pants, groans, orgasm, job done." You swore your core clenched at his words and your thighs squeezed together involuntarily.

"Wouldn't be the first time I've faked an orgasm I guess."

"You've had a real one, right?"

"Orgasm? Cill I'm 29, not 16!"

"So you know the noises to make. How about we head back to my trailer and we rehearse it a few times until you're comfortable?"

"What if one of my students hears me?"

"Then we go back to my hotel room and rehearse there?"

"What?" He laughed, shaking his head.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to actually fuck you in my hotel room y/n."

"Ugh.. fine... But you can't tell anyone?"

"I swear it."

You sat on Cillian's sofa in his huge hotel room, the view was incredible from the window.

"I'm aware this is awkward for you so I suggest we just go straight into it, okay?" He pulled you up and turned you around, walking you over to the kitchen counter. He placed your hands against the flat surface. His fingers moved between your thighs to part them slightly and you lost control of your knees, stumbling slightly.

"Steady now, haven't got to the good part yet," he chuckled, standing behind you and holding your hips. You bit your lips, you could feel yourself throbbing as his fingers gripped your jeans.

"I'm not going to actually make contact, don't worry, I'm just going to do the motions. Use your imagination, and work with me. Make the noises, she's close to orgasm so she's quite loud but there's no pressure to scream the roof off the place in here. Are you ready?"

"Fuck, this really feels awkward Cillian..."

"Close your eyes and think back to the best orgasm you've ever had. How much you enjoyed it.. how good it felt..now re-enact it." His hands gripped your waist and he began to pull you gently back and forth, softly at first to get you into the right mindset. He was patient, not pushing too hard and not getting the slightest bit annoyed that you were silent as a rock.

"This is ridiculous, I can't do it!"

"Fuck it, why not." He took a deep breath behind you, and started to rock your hips back and forth again. His breaths came shorter, louder, a gentle moan, the occasional "yeah..." You echoed his voice almost exactly, not difficult considering how turned on you were listening to him behind you.

"I know Tommy's fairly silent in the scene, but would it help if I did the noises with you? Just while we're rehearsing?"

It wouldn't help my fucking underwear, you thought.

"Mm... That's it, that's it..." You knew he was just saying the lines, he was Tommy, but fuck his voice sounded good. You tried to remember a decent orgasm, and gave a deep but quiet groan.

"That was the most unconvincing 'orgasm' I think I've ever heard... I know you can do better than that."

"What?"

He turned you gently around to face him.

"Viewers can tell if a sex scene isn't working y/n - you need to give it more realism than that."

"I'm fucking trying Cillian, it isn't exactly easy when you've got the sexual experience of a Nun.."

"You need to get into the right frame of mind y/n, there must have been a time in your life when you've been so turned on and so desperate for release that the slightest touch would send you over the edge?" He edged a little closer to you, you could feel your heartbeat quicken as you clutched the kitchen side.

"Maybe.."

"When even just the sound of someone's voice was enough to make your core burn, your knees buckle, your legs shake?" You were ALL of those things right now. He inched ever closer.

"Or maybe you've got to that stage and not quite finished the job?" His eyebrow raised again, was he enjoying making you squirm?

"You needed to get off, but your boyfriend was incapable and your fingers just weren't enough..." His hand on your waist, his eyes on yours.

"Maybe..." You were desperate. You'd never felt so turned on in your life and right now you didn't care who knew it but you needed to cum and quickly.

"You sure you want me to do this?" He asked and you nodded.

"Need some help turning that 'maybe' into a 'yes'?"

You bit your lip and nodded, exhilarated and terrified of what that look in his eyes meant. His fingers traced the inside of your thighs again, making you shudder. You didn't even notice him unclasp your jeans and edge them down to your thighs.

"There's no going back from this, I need your words."

"Have you done this before?" He chuckled at your question.

"Made a woman cum? A few times yeah. Made a costar cum? Not directly," he winked, as his hand skimmed the waistband of your underwear. Parting your legs further with his knee, he pushed through.

"You're so fucking wet y/n..." He groaned, feeling the slick pool that had gathered between your folds. Sliding as much as he could up, he found your clit easily and circled it lightly. You gripped his arm, gasping for breath as the heat rose quickly within your abdomen.

"You feel so warm.. wet.. hot.. making a dirty little mess on my fingers.." his forehead remained pressed to yours, both of you panting, your hips starting to gyrate against his hand.

"So good Cillian... So so good... Don't stop please..."

"I won't, fuck you sound amazing, let me hear you..." He put more pressure on your clit, circling faster, he knew time was running out, you'd be needed on set soon.

"That's it, ride my hand.. you have no idea how much I want you, how much I've wanted you since the second I saw you... You gonna cum for me baby?" His Irish brogue was edging you ever closer, your orgasm so close you could almost taste it.

"Harder, I need it harder... Faster... Oh fuck please..." He happily complied, his fingers working you perfectly, his other hand exploring your breasts, squeezing and pulling at your nipple under the fabric of your blouse. Your back arched as the most powerful orgasm you'd ever had exploded through you, chanting his name as you rode through it, gripping his arm.

"That's it... That's my girl..." His fingers slower, before he removed them completely and licked his fingers tasting you with a groan. You hadn't realised your hand was on his hard length, palming him through his jeans but you didn't pull it away. His eyes on your hand, watching you explore him. You palmed him harder, feeling the shaft throb through the material. Just before you could release his belt, his phone rang in his back pocket.

"That'll be Anto wondering where we are..." He whispered, stopping your hands.

"Fuck..."

"I know, believe me I know... We film this scene, it's the last one, and you and I can catch up again tonight. What do you say?"

"It's a date Mr Murphy."

[plus-size-reader]

Sharing

Billy Loomis x Plus size!reader and Stu Macher x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1780 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Billy and Stu fighting over you

——————————————————————————————————

The two of them couldn't have been more different.

As a general rule, Billy and Stu had hardly anything in common but that didn’t change the fact that there had never been two closer best friends. They did everything together, and shared quite a bit. 

Though, it wasn’t until you that they realized just how far that went.

You sat beside Stu in algebra, and had gone to school with both Stu and Billy for as long as you could remember. However, you had never really spent much time with them until you agreed to start helping the former with his homework. 

At first, it wasn’t much of a problem for anyone but the more Stu informed his friend that he couldn’t hang out because he was supposed to see you again, the more Billy grew resentful. 

The problem was that he wasn’t sure who he was more jealous of, you or Stu.  

On one hand, his best friend in the entire world was getting to spend all his time with you, but you were also getting to spend a fair amount of your own time with him. 

From where Billy was sitting, the biggest problem was that he wasn’t involved in any step of that process. So, he decided to fix the problem himself. 

...And that was how you ended up between them in the first place. 

You had showed up to the Macher family home after school like you always did on Tuesday evenings with your school bag in hand. However, when the front door opened, the blonde you’d grown used to seeing wasn’t standing there. 

Instead, it was Billy. 

You were shocked, understandably so, especially seeing as you didn't know he would be here but it wasn’t all bad. You didn’t know Billy all that well but Stu talked about him all the time. 

“Hey, I’m supposed to be meeting Stu. Is he here?” you asked, shifting your weight between your two feet as you stood there, under the male’s focused gaze.

You had never realized it before, but Billy was incredibly intimidating, almost as much as he was handsome and you weren’t dealing with the uninterrupted eye contact. 

It was clear that he had something on his mind, something he wanted to say but he chose to ignore it for now. There would be more than enough time to talk about what was on his mind.

Instead, he nodded. “He’s in the kitchen, follow me” he suggested, though there was a demanding tone in his voice. You didn’t even bother to tell him you’d been in the house before. 

All you could do was hold your school bag close to your frame as you entered the house. 

It was empty, like it normally was, as Stu’s parents usually weren't home. They were gone a lot on business trips, they were lawyers you thought, but you couldn’t remember. 

Of all the things you and Stu talked about during your study sessions, his parents weren’t really on the roster. 

“She’s here!” Billy called, glancing over his shoulder to look at you, a small smirk on his lips as he addressed his best friend. You didn’t really know why Billy was here, but they weren’t going to keep you in suspense for much longer. 

See, Billy had a plan. 

In general, the two of them were never apart. Everywhere Billy went, Stu followed. Knowing that, it was easy to assume that he would be jealous of the amount of the blonde’s time you were taking up. 

However, Billy had made a different call. Being jealous of you wasn’t going to do much except drive you away and while that would have been okay, it wasn’t ideal. 

If he went about it the right way, there was a chance he’d get to keep you both. 

It wasn’t a done deal, but if the past was any indication, Billy was pretty good at getting what he wanted. After all, it wasn’t exactly easy to tell him no. 

“Hey! You made it” Stu greeted, wrapping you up in a small hug right after he handed the other male an unopened beer. You had no idea what you were walking into, but you just nodded, accepting the hug. 

It wasn’t like you felt unsafe here, just uneasy.

You didn’t have much experience with Billy at all, but if nothing else, you were sure that Stu wouldn’t let anything sketchy go down. At least, you hoped he wouldn’t. 

“Yeah, I’m still not super sure on that last turn” you shrugged, decidedly throwing yourself into smalltalk instead of making direct eye contact with either of them. 

Had you looked up, you would have had to come to terms with the predatory gaze in Billy’s eyes as he looked you over. You had placed yourself closer to Stu over by the sink, which wasn’t surprising. 

It was no secret that you were more comfortable with him, but Billy was interested in you too and he had an idea. 

“So, what are you two going to work on tonight?” he hummed, his eyes softening ever so slightly as he looked between you, though you could still see how tight his jaw was while he waited for an answer.

Math.

That should have been the answer, but for some reason with Billy staring deep into your eyes, and Stu standing so close, your lips couldn’t form the words. 

It was strange.

You had never felt this was before, but there was just something about the two of them. Billy was magnetic, and Stu seemed to feed off of his energy which brought a new side out of him that you’d never seen. 

You couldn’t put your finger on it, but you just couldn’t look away from Billy’s sterling gaze. Instead, you tried to clear your throat, taking a sip of the glass of water Stu had gotten you when you informed him you didn’t want to drink.

After all, you had come here to do a job but it seemed like there was no job to be done here tonight. 

“Y/N? You alright?” Stu hummed, watching the way your eyes kept tabs on Billy out of the corner of your eye. You were clearly feeling something, but he wasn’t sure what it was.

The blonde was a bit worried at first, mostly because he didn’t know how Billy would react. He knew that the other male could be protective, so he’d either get violent with you, or leave in a huff. 

From where he was, it could go either way.

However, when Stu looked at Billy for some kind of clue as to what he was thinking, he only winked. “Yeah Y/N, you feeling okay?” he grinned, setting his beer down on the island. 

You hardly had a second to think before he was standing in front of you, with hardly any space between your two bodies. Without even meaning to, you practically gasped.

You couldn’t help yourself. 

No matter what you thought you were feeling, or where Stu thought this might go at first, there was no misreading what he had in mind. You didn’t get hit on a ton, but you weren’t blind.

It would have been impossible to misunderstand his intentions. 

“I’m okay, I think” you tried, doing your best to maintain your composure, even though the tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife. 

In fact, if you hadn’t been standing here yourself, there was no way you could be sure that it was really happening. 

That response was more than Billy had been expecting, but nonetheless, it did serve to amuse him. You were hilarious, in the most innocent of ways. 

“We don’t scare you, do we Y/N?” He wondered, gingerly letting his fingers gloss over the skin of your jaw. 

There was something so predatory and strange about the way he addressed you, but it wasn’t entirely unwelcome. If nothing else, it just made you think about him in a way that you never had.

“No, of course not” you allowed, they didn’t. However, you couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable under his burning gaze, so you instead chose to look at Stu over your shoulder. 

Even with his own grin, the blonde could never be as intimidating as Billy was. 

“Good, because we had a bit of a chat before you got here” Billy started, leaning back against the counter, his eyes never leaving yours. 

Evidently, they had been talking about you quite a bit before you got there, but you had no inkling of that until he spoke again. “See, Stu here’s got quite the crush on you” he smiled, gesturing to the other male at his side. 

You had no idea where this was going before but at least there was a bit of context now. Though, you couldn’t say you were any less confused than you’d been before. 

The words he’d stated weren’t exactly surprising to you, as you’d gathered that much in all the time you’d been spending time together. However, that didn’t stop you from looking at him as well. 

It just seemed like the only thing to do right now, and it was still better than having to look Billy in the eye. 

“Now, I had to decide what to do about that, and I think we’ve come up with a solution” he allowed, smirking at you as he spoke. He could practically see the wheels turning in your head. 

It hadn’t clicked yet. 

“A solution?” You repeated, trying to keep up. However, before you could get an answer from the male, Stu stepped in to answer you instead. 

“Billy thinks we should share” he grinned, unsure of how this would go down. When Billy first brought it up, he was sure that you’d say no but seeing you now, he wasn’t sure. 

It would be ideal. 

If you were in a mutual relationship, Billy would have no reason to get so jealous over you, and he could be honest about how he felt for you to begin with. 

Really, Stu couldn’t have come up with a better solution for the problem they’d been having.��

“Share?” you repeated again. You were pretty sure that you knew where this was going but you just needed to have them clarify it for you. This wasn’t something you thought you’d be doing today, but it could work.

You liked Stu and you were well aware of the connection the two males shared. What they were proposing could work. 

“Yeah, what do you say gorgeous?” Stu grinned, his goofy charm bringing a smile to your face. 

How could you say no to that?