#and envying what i saw around me
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âI think Iâm a specâ I say as I am religiously traumatized and on ssris and hrt
#funnie joak#I am coming back around to the possibility of me being ace aro again no joke#like I donât claim that identity but really what do I have to disprove it đ#Iâm always like ohhh I wish I could be in a relationship maybe I want that and then do nothing about it so I think itâs just like. this idea#that I play with or feel some compulsion toward#and when ppl talk about being in a relationship itâs like this super foreign thing to me that I donât understand. but still I feel a certain#level of like. envy. like not that they donât deserve it but it more so makes me wish I understood what they do#something so integral to the human experience#that I just. donât have any experience with or motivation to pursue#but I still feel like Iâm lonely and missing out on something#or really Missing Something inside me. like I saw the tv glow style. well#girl whatever
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people will be so terminally jealous of you that theyâd rather you reexperience your trauma but somehow in a worse way than just let you live your regular happy life as it has been
#sorry i had privilege over you- real or imagined- but it is what it is#and taking it out on me instead of oh idk. the polticians who are to blame for your shitty situation. isnt gonna make your life any better.#i kinda have no control over your life and its actually not my personal job to give you shit#especially since you're a skeevy fuck who cant be honest about your wants needs and intentions and just pretend to be certain ways#so people stay around you and you get the beenfit of community rather than be the real skeevy fuck you are#like damn maybe if you were real i coulda helped you and we didnt have to go through all of this bs of you pretending you like me#just to get shit out of me#you saw how i looked. you saw how i express myself. you saw my confidence. and you did this out of some weird rageful jealousy#and then once you found out how bullied i was. suddenly im nothing. suddenly all the things you envied so deeply that you have to pretend#i dont exist and im not the reason you draw the way you do now. suddenly im nothing. in spite of apparently being the thing that made you#want to draw again anyways.#you really really do value might makes right even if you dont think you do. like if me being bullied is enough for you to decide im nothing#and you gotta go faun after my bullies then like idk what to tell you duder but thats might makes right lmao#how can i go from being *the sun* to you. from being all of your favorite ocs. to being absolutely nothing short of you having some deep#shame about me now that you know all the shit ppl put me through in hs?#i mean aside from all the shit you made up about me- lets put a pin in that right now okay- bc this is the real reason#lets be honest here.#and yet i know.#deep down. you still kinda envy me. because imma be myself no matter what any of yall do#and thats something you cant do ever. rip off your mask.
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âHOW CAN I LOVE WHEN IâM AFRAID TO FALL?â
âI fell in love with you as soon as I saw you, as soon as you covered me from my father, as soon as I heard your laugh, saw the amazing mother you are, and realized I never wanted you to leave this house.â
⧠pairing: CEO! satoru gojo x f!reader
⧠summary: to your almost regret, your life as a single mother seems to be weighing more and more heavily on your worn-out shoulders. so what could be better than pretending to be the CEOâs girlfriend of the business you work for, knowing that his father is the general manager?
⧠warnings: +18 only, smut, nsfw, her daughter is called hinata, fake dating/single mom tropes, angst, mother insecurities, fluff, readerâs ex is a jerk, unprotected sex, sex (p in v), overstimulation, pussy drunk (satoru), nipple play, fingering (f!receiving), oral (m), this fic is (really slightly) inspired from the french book âun printemps pour te succomberâ by morgane moncomble, including therefore small similar dialogues, (pls guys learn french only to read this masterpiece!!), fanart by @/ilameys on twt.
⧠wc: 10,154
âCan I taste the frosting?â
Your lips curve into a smile. âOf course, angel.â You crouch down and hand the spatula coated in pastel pink frosting to your five-year-old daughter. Her little fist wraps around the handle, and joy spreads across her angelic face like rays of sunshine. âSo? How is it?â
âItâs so good!â she exclaims, and you chuckle.
âIâm glad you like it.â You glance at the clock in your kitchen. âIâll put the frosting in the fridge. While the cake bakes, go back to playing, and Iâll call you to help decorate the cake as soon as itâs ready, okay?â
Hinata nods, blowing you a kiss that you return after a moment of surprised hesitation, your lips forming an âOâ. Amid delighted laughter, she skips away, and you turn back to face the bowl of cake batter.
Why does it have to be so hard?
Every birthday, you hold back tears because who said âsingle momâ doesnât rhyme with âbaking your own birthday cake so your daughter can sing to youâ? But what hurts more â this, or seeing your flesh and blood envy her female friends who have their dads in their arms and their mothers content with their families?
The silence of loneliness can sometimes be louder than company.
âHappy birthday! Happy birthday, mama!â your daughter sings, clapping her hands as you blow out your candles in the warm, yet dimly lit, living room. âCome on, come on! Letâs eat the cake!â
With a knife, you cut two slices, one for each of you, and it only takes a few more minutes for both your mouths to be covered in pink frosting, with laughter echoing in the room. The heartache, briefly chased away by the short-lived joy, returns later that night when your daughter snuggles up in your arms in your double bed, which seems to be missing something.
Fuck, being a single mom is tough, you think as you wipe away the tears flooding your cheeks with the back of your hand. No one to support you, all the responsibilities fall on your shoulders, and now doubts about your daughter start invading your mind: âWhat if she blames you later for not having a father?â, âWhat if she thinks youâre a bad mom?â, âDo her friends at school say anything about you being the only unmarried woman among all the parents in her class?â
These thoughts have never stopped, not even during your pregnancy, whether about the weight gained or lost, or the changes in your body. Are these regrets? But how could you regret bringing such an angel into the world? Maybe itâs more about the lousy partner who left you the second he found out you were pregnant.
Probably the second option.
°°°
âWHERE IS MY SON?!â
A male voice thunders across the entire floor of the company. You jump, turning to one of your colleagues over the small partition set up for employee privacy. âWhoâs yelling like that?â you whisper, eyebrows raised in surprise.
âI heard itâs the new general managerâŚâ
Your frown deepens. âIs that why they handed me the summary of our sales figures to drop off at the office upstairs?â To prove your point, you lift the massive stack of documents.
Your colleague presses his lips together, his eyes widening in a way that already gives you the answer. âOh God, youâre the one in charge of that? Good luck. Itâs to be delivered to the new director.â
A sigh escapes your lips.
For a start to the workweek, it seems youâre about to face the stormy mood of the new boss, who apparently brought his kid to the office. What a perfect beginning.
As usual, the upper floor is deserted, as itâs generally reserved for executives with direct ties to the companyâs CEO. Few people take the elevator to reach the top floor of the skyscraper. Arriving in the lonely hallway, it should be a simple task to knock on the bossâs office door, drop off the elephant-weight stack of documents, and leave.
So why does the sound of running footsteps seem to be getting closer and closer behind you?
In a flash, a man dressed in a navy blue suit rushes past you, bumping your shoulder. He nearly topples the threatening stack of papers, but you manage, at the last second, to catch everything before you lose your balance. The young man opens the door to the womenâs restroom, and before entering, he glances over his shoulder.
Never in your life have eyes made such an impression on you.
Two cerulean blue orbs lock onto yours with a mischievous aura. A smirk tugs at the corner of his thin, pink lips. From his pale skin to his albino hair, the man exudes charm and beauty from every pore. The sheer allure of his appearance leaves your brain too stunned to react, numbing it. How can someone be this handsome?
âSATORU!â
His serene and amused expression vanishes instantly, and you jump in response. Replaced by an exaggerated look of fear, he addresses you, âCover for me. If he asks you, you never saw me!â And his tall, slender body disappears into the womenâs restroom.
More footsteps echo down the hallway, this time from a second man, just as tall and physically similar to the young man you just encountered â though slightly older, with wrinkles lining his face and a mix of albino hair and silver from age. You have no time to react except to straighten up against the wall.
His blue eyes, more gray and stern, settle on you as he approaches. âDid you see a man? A tall idiot running around and flirting with any woman he sees,â he grumbles the last part, his eyes thoughtfully fixed on the light carpet.
You shake your head robotically. âNo⌠Iââ
âNever mind,â he cuts you off with a dismissive wave of his hand â as if your answer is irrelevant and heâs heard it at least twenty times before. He sighs and scratches at the stubble on his chin. âWho are you, anyway?â
âAn employee, sir.â You gesture to the stack of documents thatâs beginning to make its weight known in your arms. âI was asked to drop this off in your office.â The tone of your voice almost pleads with him to let you in and relieve you of the annoying burden.
âThe report? Ah yes, of course.â You sigh in relief as he unlocks the door with his keys. âI suppose youâre wondering who I am?â
âThe new general manager, I guess?â you reply, raising an eyebrow. You drop the heavy stack onto the desk and exhale deeply. âWe heard you on every floor.â You canât help but chuckle at your own remark, offering the director an apologetic smile.
He rolls his eyes, but a light chuckle still rumbles in his chest. âYouâre right. Itâs because of my son.â
His son?
You repeat the word aloud, confused, and he clarifies. âMy son is the new CEO of this company, and I almost regret my decision to give him that position.â He shakes his head, his gaze drifting toward the blue sky visible through the large window, then refocuses on you. âI apologize in advance. Heâs going to be a real handful.â
âI understand. I think weâll manage to put up with him,â you add with a smile.
In the end, this new boss doesnât seem as strict as your colleagues have been saying, and his story about his son is more amusing than anything. You cough slightly into your elbow and clear your throat, murmuring an apology.
âAre you sick?â the director inquires.
âA little,â you admit reluctantly, feeling embarrassed as you adjust the mask on your face. âSorry. I couldnât stay home.â
âNo problem.â He crosses his arms over his chest and sighs. âWell, I think I have some work to do. See you later, I suppose.â
You donât hesitate to leave the bossâs office and quietly step into the womenâs restroom. âIs⌠someone here?â you murmur in a hoarse voice.
The creaking of a door answers you, and the general managerâs son emerges from a stall, looking cautious. He looks like a little boy checking to see if his hiding spot in a game of hide-and-seek has been discovered, which makes you stifle a discreet giggle. He turns to you and offers an apologetic smile. âSorry about earlier. I didnât hurt you, did I, sweetheart?â
The nickname catches you off guard, and warmth floods your face. âN-No, Iâm fine. Youâre the new CEO, right?â
âSatoru Gojo, at your service, pretty girl.â He winks, a reminder that heâs quite the flirt.
You introduce yourself in return, running out of things to say, your hands nervously clasped by your sides.
âPretty name,â Satoru murmurs. He closes the stall door behind him and exhales, shaking his head. âPhew! That was a close one! Thanks again!â He strides toward the exit with one last charming smile in your direction, leaving the restroom and a lingering scent of cologne behind him.
°°°°
âWhy arenât you answering?â
âDamn it, youâre so annoying with this!â
âThereâs no point in moving every few months, Iâm going to find you.â
âFor fuckâs sake, answer my messages! I told you I need you! I swear Iâll help you raise Hinata this time.â
âI made a mistake, so let me fix it by answering my fucking messages! I know youâre reading them!â
You swallow hard, your throat tight, and press the âblock this contactâ button on your phone. Itâs the fourth time this month. Heâs been harassing you with messages and finding a way to contact you no matter how many numbers he uses, even when you change yours. The same goes for your address, as apparently changing apartments is no longer enough to escape him.
You know heâs in debt â one of the many consequences of his excessive gambling, even when you were still in a relationship with him. Smoking, drinking, and of course, downing tobacco like it was water, only to charm you while hiding this lifestyle to get you into his bed, then fleeing the moment you were pregnant.
So now that he needs a woman and a child to escape his debts, heâs reaching out to you â the woman he abandoned after promising marriage (without a ring, of course), got pregnant, and deserted, only to come crawling back to you.
âMama? You okay?â
Your daughterâs concerned little voice pulls you out of your daze. The cartoons playing on the TV havenât had the desired effect â theyâre not distracting her from the anxiety thatâs been gnawing at you day by day. Maybe today, itâs showing enough for people to notice?
âIâm fine, angel,â you reassure her with a perfect smile â perfectly fake, because thatâs something youâve learned to anchor over time.
You pat the empty spot on the couch next to you, and she nestles under your arm. âIf you say soâŚâ Hina murmurs, clutching her worn-out bunny plush.
The state of the plush catches your attention, and a pang of guilt stabs at your heart. What kind of mother lets her daughter carry around a stuffed toy in such poor condition? Maybe you are a bad mother? Otherwise, why would Hina deserve such a pitiful situation? She deserves so much better than youâŚ
âLittle angel?â you murmur as she wraps her tiny arms around your waist and nuzzles into your belly. âAre you okay?â
âI love you.â
And the three little words sound⌠unreal.
Hot tears blur your vision, and it takes every bit of strength you have to whisper back, âI love you too, Hina.â
°°°°
3:00 PM.
In less than an hour, youâll need to pick up Hinata from school.
Normally, you avoid lingering at work. You go through your usual routine as an employee, nothing special or fun â a hello, goodbye, see you tomorrow to colleagues without worrying about whatâs happening around you or the gossip, even when it involves coworkers getting together.
The only change: now itâs you who gets stuck with the task of delivering all the documents to the general manager. According to one of your peers, he doesnât seem to be strict or threatening when it comes to you. So this time, youâre tasked with delivering an additional file about the production of a new product on the market to both the CEO and the general manager. For the second time, you head up to the highest floors of the company headquarters to knock on the CEOâs door â itâs the closest. But no one answers.
No surprise, since the directorâs son spends his time running through the hallways to avoid his father and shirk his responsibilities, right?
Youâre about to knock on the Directorâs door, but a familiar gust of wind brushes your face with a soft, fresh breeze. Satoru Gojo appears beside you with a charming smile and glances at what youâre holding.
âH-Hello, sweetheart. How are⌠you?â he greets, slightly out of breath from yet another chase with his father.
âIâm fine. Here.â You hand him one of the folders, and he takes it, pretending to read it. âThe next meetingââ But he grabs the second document and, before you can react, opens the door to his office and casually tosses them inside before shutting the door.
âSATORU GOJO! KEEP IT UP, AND IâLL DISOWN YOU!â The bossâs voice echoes through the entire floor as he appears from behind the emergency exit door. âYOU!â He points a finger at you, standing right next to him. âStill bothering our employees?â He grumbles, his jaw clenched so tightly that you can hear his teeth grinding.
âThatâs not true, father!â Satoru protests, feigning outrage. He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer. âYouâre chasing me while Iâm just saying hello to my girlfriend?â
You freeze, turning your head toward him, as lost as the Director, who squints his eyes. âYour girlfriend? Since whenââ
âI was going to tell you,â Satoru continues, shaking his head, his fingers squeezing your waist while you remain paralyzed. âHereâs my new girlfriend.â
âAre you lying to me and dragging some poor woman into your childish games?â
In the back of your mind, you note that he doesnât seem to recognize you despite the last time you saw each other.
âWhat? Iâm telling the truth! Isnât that right, sweetheart?â And he leans in to plant an affectionate kiss on your cheek.
Your heart almost stops for a second. But you quickly snap back to reality under the insistent embrace of his arm and his hand around you. âY-YesâŚâ
What kind of mess have you gotten yourself into?
âWell, if youâll excuse us, father, my darling and I are in a hurry.â He leads you away before you have time to protest and heads toward the elevator with you.
Once the doors close, Satoru takes your hands in his and leans toward you. âI can explain everything.â
If his cerulean blue eyes hadnât been so persuasive, you would have exploded right there and then to yell at him.
You, the girlfriend of the CEO of the company you work for? Did this really have to happen to you? You can already picture your termination letter under your nose as you exit the back of the building. A glance at your watch tells you that if you donât hurry, youâll be late to pick up your daughter.
âYouâre in a rush?â
âI have to pick up my daughter before Iâm late,â you reply curtly, âand look at the mess Iâm in now!â
âI know, I knowâŚâ Satoru rubs the back of his head, right where his immaculate undercut is. âMaybe I can explain on the way? Whereâs your car?â He looks around the parking lot, his eyes searching.
The question â however mundane â makes you blush with embarrassment. âI⌠take public transportationâŚâ you mumble, pouting.
He furrows his brow, as if you just admitted to showering with maggot-infested soap. âExcuse me? I donât take public transportation.â
âWell, I do.â A hint of defiance returns to protect your pride.
How could he possibly understand when he lives like a rich man, without worrying about grocery shopping, paying bills, and of course, taking public transportation during the week to avoid wasting gas because it costs an arm and a leg! But for him, that must not be part of his daily life, especially since heâs one of societyâs privileged.
âLetâs take my car then.â He says this without waiting for you, as you remain standing there. He pulls out his keys and opens the passenger door. âWhat are you waiting for?â
âButâ Iâ Are you out of your mind?â you burst out. âIâm not getting in that car! Iâm supposed to pick up my daughter, and now Iâm pretending to be your girlfriend! In front of your father!â You emphasize your words with wild, energetic gestures.
He bursts out laughing.
Cute.
âNo chance. Weâre going to pick up your daughter and clear this all up. And please, stop refusing to get into a car thatâs way better than those buses that reek of sweat.â He rolls his eyes, and you note how much he resembles his father when he does that.
âI have an errand to run anyway,â you persist.
âAnd that doesnât change the fact that I want you to get in this car,â Satoru chuckles.
Taking a closer look, the car is as luxurious as the ones you dream about at night â yours, by comparison, looks like a junk heap ready for the scrapyard. Reluctantly, you climb in, Satoruâs chivalrous demeanor not going unnoticed as he snickers at your surrender. He quickly gets in, asks for the address of the school, and sets off after starting his car, which smells just as good as he does. You feel like a piece of trash in the middle of this little universe he inhabits.
âMy father bugs me every day to find a woman,â Satoru murmurs at first, one hand resting on his thigh, clad in business suit trousers, his eyes fixed on the road over his round sunglasses. âThatâs one of the reasons I avoid him.â
âAnd why involve me?â you snap back.
âWell, to be honest, it was partly impulsive. I met you the other day, and then, in the moment, I just wanted my father to leave me alone.â He has a half-smile that makes you swallow hard, and he gives you a knowing look before returning to a serious expression. âIâm sorry for dragging you into all this.â A pause. âI just hope youâre not married, otherwiseââ
âNo, Iâ No.â You close your eyes for a moment, the innocent question burning like a fiery arrow piercing your already aching heart. Did you just hear a sigh of relief? âAnd your father doesnât seem to have recognized me since the other day,â you canât help but point out.
âThe mask.â Satoru grips the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white. âHe didnât recognize you because of that. Heâs always had a bad memory and poor eyesight.â
âBut you recognized me.â You focus on the roadâs scenery to avoid confronting his mesmerizing eyes. âIâm not going to wear my mask forever, you know? And I donât want to keep pretendingââ
âPlease,â Satoru whispers, placing a hand on yours, sending a shiver down your spine. âJust until he and my family get off my back.â
âIâm sorry, butââ
âHow much do you want?â He asks immediately, as if he just remembered something.
âWhat? No! I donât want your money!â you protest as quickly as he did. âNo, IâŚâ And you groan, sinking into your seat.
Holy shit!
âWhat have I gotten myself into, seriouslyâŚâ you moan, crossing your arms over your chest, a grimace distorting your features.
âPlease. I know itâs a lot to ask, but Iâll do everything to make it just a minor detail⌠Iâm only asking you to change your name in front of my father when you pass as my girlfriend, wear a mask, and change your hairstyle at work â if we want to avoid suspicion. He wonât suspect a thing, I swear.â He pulls into the school parking lot and parks quietly.
Thoughts bombard your already exhausted mind, and you massage your temples. Why does this have to happen to you and no one else?
Satoru murmurs your name, making you lift your head. âIt will only be a few family events, just for appearances, nothing more. I wonât bother you any further.â
You sigh, and the sound of the bell signaling the end of classes rings out. âI need to think about it. Thanks for the ride. Have a niceââ
âCome back. Iâll take you home,â Satoru suggests, pressing the button to unlock your door.
Whatâs the point of refusing?
You nod, finally getting out of the car to go pick up your daughter, who runs toward you as soon as you reach the gate.
"Mama!" She jumps into your arms.
You return her embrace, heading towards Satoruâs car. âDid you have a good day?â
âSo much fun! I made you a drawing!â Sheâs practically bouncing as you reach the car.
Noticing your daughterâs confused look, you clear your throat. âUh⌠A-A friend of mine is giving us a ride home, okay?â She blinks innocently and waits for you to open the car door, which is almost as tall as she is. Hinata gets in as you do, and you cough slightly. âThis is Gojo. My friend.â
âHello, princess.â Satoru turns his head over his shoulder with a big smile. âWhatâs your name?â
âHinata,â she replies, her legs gently swinging.
âVery pretty.â
âThank you.â She blushes and tries to hide a smile.
On the way, you try to fill the awkward silences with small talk until you arrive at the supermarket.
You had promised to buy Hinata a new stuffed animal since last night after spending hours worrying that you werenât being a good mother. Again.
âThat one!â Hinata almost runs towards a bunny plushie thatâs twice the size of her head. She grabs it with her little arms and gives it a hug.
Satoru and you reach the aisle, and out of habit, you check the price under the albinoâs watchful eye. Your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets when you see the amount, and you place a trembling hand on Hinaâs shoulder. âAngel, I think itâsââ
ââŚPerfect,â Satoru finishes, his large hands taking the plushie from your daughterâs tight embrace to check the price tag with its shocking number. âDo you like it, little one?â he asks, looking down at her.
Hina nods energetically. âYeah!â
âThen weâll take it.â Satoru hands the plushie back to her and turns towards the checkout lane, already reaching into one of his pockets for what looks like⌠a wallet.
You react immediately, your hands finding their way around his arm. He doesnât push you away at all and even smiles at the contact. âGojo⌠No.â
âItâs Satoru to you, sweetheart,â he whispers gently. âAnd why not? Itâs just a stuffed animal,â he scoffs. He takes Hinataâs hand so she can place the plushie on the conveyor belt.
âNo, itâs not nothing to me,â you persist through clenched teeth, embarrassed that the cashier might be paying attention to your conversation.
Satoru shrugs. The cashier scans the plushie, and he uses contactless payment to pay for it. With your hands still around his arm, he places one of his on top, an intimate closeness.
âI could get used to this,â he murmurs near your ear, making you turn beet red. But he canât continue as your daughter clings to Satoruâs leg like a koala, showering him with a thousand thank-yous for the gift. âYouâre welcome, little one.â His hand gently ruffles her hair. He grins, now turning back to you. âItâs on me. You donât owe me anything.â
Your discreet protests, so Hinata doesnât suspect anything, come to an end when he drops both of you off in front of your home. Hinata commented that Satoruâs car looked like the one from the movie Barbie: Princess Charm School she had seen recently. He unlocks the doors as you get out of the car. Satoruâs hand catches yours, slipping a piece of cardstock into it. His contact details are on it.
âJust in case,â he mouths silently.
Nevertheless, you slip the business card into your pocket and respond just before closing the door, âI accept.â
°°°°
âAnd no funny business, okay? Never run in the hallways, if he tells you to wait, donât move an inch, andââ You stop yourself as you notice your daughter is more interested in admiring the elegant decorations of the office hallways with wide, doe-like eyes and an adorable, slightly open mouth.
To your great misfortune, Hinataâs preschool is on strike for a while â which means almost all the teachers are absent. So how do you take care of your daughter when you canât afford to miss work? By bringing her to your fake boyfriendâs office, of course! You quickly make your way toward Satoruâs office, Hinata following with her hand in yours. But just as you raise your fist to knock on his door, two large hands land on your shoulders, nearly scaring the life out of you.
âHey, hey!â You whip around abruptly, a new mask on your face â just as the plan intended.
âSatoruâŚâ you grit through your teeth. Hinata looks up at him and grins. You sigh.
âWhat do I owe the pleasure of all this lovely company?â Satoru asks, not taking his eyes off yours while giving Hinata a high-five.
As usual, heâs dressed in a luxurious suit â probably worth the rent of the apartment you live in â his slightly tousled albino hair and the familiar scent of cologne filling your nostrils. You catch yourself staring a little too long, and mentally kick yourself when his curious gaze turns mischievous.
He just realized you were checking him out, damn it!
âHinataâs school is on strike. I need you to watch her for the day, if thatâs not a problem, and since you seemed so insistent on returning the favor Iâm doing for youâŚâ you mumble, avoiding his gaze. âI see youâre spending your day roaming the offices rather than staying in yoursâŚâ
âNo problem at all,â Satoru replies automatically, a pleased smile on his lips. âReady to go to the CEOâs office?â He picks up Hina, who giggles and clings to him like a koala.
Itâs your turn to smile in relief. âThank you so much. I have a meeting with your father in an hour, and Iâll come get her at noon and again at the end of the day.â The sight of the two of them close together makes your heart melt â and for once, you donât blame yourself for seeing Hinata happy to be with someone else.
°°°°
5:00 PM.
Youâve sent a message to Satoru asking where he was, since knocking on his perpetually empty office seems to be pointless. The meeting with the other company members about organizing the launch of a new product was particularly painful, but one thing is certain: the general manager didnât recognize you with your more subdued hairstyle and the mask plastered on your face.
âCome to the parking lot like last time.â
And thatâs the last message from Satoru (you gave him your number during lunch).
In the empty parking lot, only Satoruâs car is present, and you cast a curious glance through the windows. The two troublemakers give you a grimace â tongues sticking out and faces scrunched up. You sigh as the passenger door opens automatically.
âSatoru, you donât have toââ
âHina said yes and that she wants to come to my place,â Satoru cuts in with a mocking expression.
Reluctantly, you get in, your heart pounding in your chest with all sorts of panicked thoughts. However, Satoru doesnât seem to share your reservations and starts driving as soon as youâre settled.
âSo, this means youâre coming to my place,â he says, hands on the wheel and a quick glance in the rearview mirror, âand Iâm inviting you to dinner.â
âNoââ
âMom! Please, Satoru is being too nice.â Hinata complains. You glance back, and she looks at you with wounded, pleading puppy eyes, arms crossed over her chest.
You grumble, slumping back against your seat as they both cheer in victory.
âBy the way, Iâm stopping by your place so you can pack. Weâre invited to a family wedding, and my father invited us.â
âWHAT?â
°°°°
You place a box with your gift on the designated table for presents, and an arm wraps around your waist. âYou look stunning,â Satoru murmurs against your neck, his lips brushing against your skin, which breaks out in goosebumps.
With a flushed face, you turn your head. âSatoruâŚâ
âWhat? Just because weâre pretending to be a couple and barely know each other doesnât mean I canât speak the truth.â He pauses. âWell, actually, we do know each other a bit, donât we? Weâve had dinner together.â He chuckles at your half-grimacing, half-deadpan expression, pulling you closer as music fills the wedding reception hall.
You turn your head along with him toward the back of the room, where the brideâs bouquet is about to be thrown. A tight smile curves your lips â this is one thing youâve dreamed of. Dreams have always been just that â dreams in your life, and even when love comes knocking at your door, itâs only passing through, just like your situation with Satoru.
His father didnât notice anything, and since Satoru lives alone in a villa, itâs hard to say no when he offered for you to stay with him until heâs settled, with your own room and a staff available 24/7. He even had a tailor make a custom dress for the wedding you were both invited to. Hinata is looked after by a lovely nurse, and youâre enjoying a life youâve always dreamed of. So why not make the most of it despite your past?
A Satoru whoâs too comfortable with you isnât so bothersome given the time youâve spent together lately â both at the office, acting as a couple in front of certain people, and sometimes showing affection to each other to appear believable, even though they havenât asked for kisses yet, soâ
A fluffy and soft object lands right in the middle of your face and falls into your arms. You search for what seems to be a petal in your mouth and suck in your breath at what you realize it is.
The brideâs bouquet.
A gulp forces its way down your throat as the whole room applauds because⌠youâve been hit in the face with the bouquet? Not to mention the lamentations of other female cousins who had jumped with all their hopes to catch it⌠But why you, who hadnât asked for anything?
âSweetheart?â Satoru mutters, his chest still pressed against your back. His tone is so sweet, nonchalant, as if youâve been a couple for years. âMy father is watching us, and I think heâs expecting me to do something.â
You swallow and nod, dreading what might happen next. Will your heart stop beating when Satoru says:
âMay I kiss you?â
Never, ever, has anyone asked you that question. Not even your ex.
So, with a nervous nod, you allow him to capture your lips in a soft, languid kiss. His tender lips taste like the cotton candy children eat at the fair. They cherish yours with every movement (which you canât help but return in kind). Each press sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
When the kiss ends, Satoru places one last kiss on the corner of your lips and clears his throat. âThis is the first time Iâve wanted to marry my girlfriend.â His warm breath ignites your body.
Has your heart exploded?
If not, why canât you breathe?
âAwww⌠How adorable you are with your pretty girlfriend, Satoru!â
An elderly woman approaches you both, supported by her old cane, and you note her albino hair, similar to Satoruâs.
âMy dear auntâŚâ Satoru smiles widely without breaking away from you.
âYou make a lovely couple,â Aunt Gojo continues, giving you a wise look.
âOh, thank you.â You immediately bow and introduce yourself. Satoruâs hands squeeze your waist, and he chuckles at your manners.
âTake good care of her, you idiot,â the aunt finishes before drifting away, a tap of her cane on Satoruâs head making him sigh and rub his sore skull.
âWell, at least we look convincing, right?â he adds.
âYesâŚâ
Of course, he said that because he saw his aunt before you! Donât think he said it because he meant it orâ
âBy the way,â Satoru takes your hand in his and leads you to the center of the dance floor, âI meant what I said before my aunt interrupted us.â
And youâre at a loss on how to interpret his playful wink.
°°°°
âWOW! Hinata, youâre so rich!â
âIs this your dadâs castle?â
Hinata takes Satoruâs hand and faces her friends in his chic living room. âItâs my daddyâs!â She nods proudly and runs off with them toward the games and festivities organized for her birthday. The children run everywhere, scream, and burst into laughter throughout the room. The perfect atmosphere.
Itâs exactly what youâve always dreamed of giving Hina.
âYou didnât have to do this,â you murmur to Satoru, who, despite your comment, shakes his head joyfully.
âIâm glad she likes it,â he replies.
âI wasnât talking about the party.â
He freezes and turns his head toward you. âDidnât you tell me youâd never been married?â he dares to whisper, possibly afraid of hurting you.
âThatâs true. My ex left after learning I was pregnant with Hinata.â You exhale the breath youâve been holding, the weight of the secret finally lifted.
Maybe he wonât want to keep pretending to be your boyfriend after thisâŚ
âYou can still tell me his name, you know, sweetheart?â Satoru moves closer to you, wrapping his arm around your waist, as if itâs completely natural for him, but thereâs a tension in his touch. âI can take care of him andââ
You shake your head to dispel the tiny bit of resentment thatâs urging you to say yes. âItâs okay. Thanks for agreeing to pretend to be her father. I know itâs going to be a bit of a hassle for a while, but she cares a lotââ
âNuh-uh.â He places a kiss on your cheek, then another on the side of your neck, causing you to shiver. âSheâs already talked about it in my office.â
You open your eyes wide. âWhatâŚ?â
âHinata likes you much more than you think⌠Youâve suffered too much,â His other hand glides over your stomach, and his thumb traces affectionate circles on your waist.
âThank you,â you breathe, leaning into his touch. And for a moment, the weight on your shoulders completely lifts. âWe havenât had the best birthdays recently, so Iâm happy to see Hinata get what she wants.â Your eyes rest on your daughter, dressed as a fairy, waving her glittery wand at one of her friends dressed as a witch. âSo, thank you for everything.â
âNo need to thank me, sweetheart. But which birthday are you talking about? Yours? When was it?â
Embarrassed, your mouth feels dry. â...A while ago.â
Satoru pulls you tightly against his chest, wrapping his strong arms around you, his nose buried in your hair. âYouâre such a strong woman⌠I can take care of you if you want. You and Hina will live like princesses, and if you want to sleep with her or have your own room, thatâs no problem for me.â
âWhat? No, Satoru, youâre jokingâŚâ
âIâm not joking,â he insists, his gaze diving into yours â and for a second, sincerity fills his cerulean eyes.
With your mouth slightly open, you whisper, âWe barely know each other, andââ
âMama! Papa! We need to break the piĂąata!â Hinata rushes over to you, not paying any attention to how close you are to Satoru, and grabs each of your hands.
âYes, angel, weâre coming,â you respond to your daughter with a weary smile, before glancing at Satoru, who is no longer looking in your direction.
Why are his ears so red?
°°°°
You place the last birthday decoration box in a corner of the living room as Satoru asked and straighten up with a grimace from your aching back. âGeezâŚâ
The upper floor of the huge house is strangely quiet, and you furrow your brows. Could they have gone downstairs?
âHinata? Satoru?â you call out as you walk through the hallways.
The evening darkness makes it hard to see clearly, and only the faint beam of light escaping from the kitchen door guides you.
âAre you there?â you ask, gently pushing the door open, and what you find leaves you stunned.
âHAPPY BIRTHDAY!â the two of them exclaim, holding an enormous cake between them.
A few candles illuminate the underside of their beaming faces, party hats perched on their heads. The kitchen is a huge mess, counters covered in flour and frosting, and dishes overflow from the sink, threatening to topple over.
You stand speechless as they continue to sing your birthday song. Your nostrils and eyes start to itch strangely. Why is your vision suddenly blurring? It looks like transparent waves just above your lower lashes, threatening to overflow if you dare to blink. Yet, you canât escape it.
Not when they set the cake on the table and pull you into a hug while your nose runs, tears roll down your cheeks, and your choked-up throat is on the verge of bursting into sobs. Satoru keeps kissing your hair, never stopping for a second to comfort you with sweet and reassuring words, his hand drawing circles on your back. Hinata wipes your tears while her own roll down her little cheeks.
Seeing you cry has always been contagious for her.
The moment gives you a glimpse of what your life would be like if you had a complete family, and Satoruâs words echo in your mind. How could he be so perfect in just a few weeks of knowing him?
Once the emotion passes, a few minutes later, you eat your birthday cake with laughter and cheer, accompanied not just by the one person who now means everything to you, but by both.
°°°°
âWatch out, Hina. You have applesauce on your chin,â Satoru chuckles, his hand grabbing a napkin to wipe the excess food around the childâs mouth.
The heartwarming scene makes your heart swell. You definitely donât regret going out with Satoru and Hinata to have a meal at a chic terrace in their company. The family atmosphere finally gives you a glimpse of the life youâve always hoped to live. Hinata growing up with a loving father and mother, and you, loved and supported by an ideal partner. Why not reconsider Satoruâs proposal, then? Heâs the first man to think of you, even after your birthday had passed some time ago.
âIâm going to the restroom,â you murmur to Satoru, who nods in response, a wry smile curling his pink lips.
But why did it have to be on this day that a man finally approaches the two people you care about just as you slip away? He clearly waited from afar for you to let your guard down around your daughter so he could show up right in the middle of the table, facing a little girl â his daughter, technically â next to a man who isnât her father.
Satoru slowly raises his head toward him, brows furrowed and wary. âCan I help you?â
Your ex says your name. âWhere is she?â he mimics asking as if he didnât know.
âWhat do you want with her?â
âTo talk to her. I have the right. And youâre with my daughter, just so you know.â He crosses his arms over his chest, trying to appear threatening, but Satoru remains stoic, more contemptuous than anything else in the face of such a scruffy, unshaven nuisance.
âSheâs not here; you can leave,â Satoru responds. And out of protective instinct, he pulls Hinataâs chair closer to him, his eyes narrowed. Satoru understands perfectly that your ex is back to claim his rights over his daughter, just as heâs been harassing you with messages about it.
âExcuse me? When my daughter is in the arms of a stranger? I could call the police immediately and weâll sort this out very quickly,â your ex retorts sharply. He takes a step toward a lost Hinata, her big doe eyes blinking innocently between the two men. Of course, she doesnât recognize him.
An altercation begins between the two, which naturally attracts the attention of other diners around. And you walk into the middle of the scene, frozen in shock at the sight of your ex hurling threats at Satoru.
âSheâs taking my daughter, so Iâm taking her back! And itâs not a bastard like you whoâs going to help her regain my rights!â your ex spits with venom. His icy eyes find yours, terrified, your hands trembling and your complexion as pale as a sheet. Heâs about to address you with the same angry speech, his face flushed with rage and a vein ready to burst at his temple.
Do you get dĂŠjĂ vu?
ââYour daughterâ?â Satoru repeats with a deadly gaze and a jaw quivering with rage. âSheâs been sitting next to me for over an hour, Iâve been feeding her for over an hour, sheâs been calling me by my name for over an hour, and youâre talking about âyour daughterâ? At this point, whose daughter is she... yours or mine?â
Your ex, publicly humiliated, opens his eyes wide with hatred. âYou little son ofââ
âSir, we ask that you leave the terrace; youâre disturbing our customers,â a security guard declares firmly. Heâs accompanied by another colleague, and when your ex protests, they grab him by the arm and escort him away amidst his shouting and the murmurs of other customers who keep staring at the three of you.
You move closer to Satoru, who immediately stands up upon seeing you â having not realized you were there â and can only offer you an apologetic look. âLetâs go,â you silently mouth (your throat too tight to dare let a sound escape, fearing it might break before you say anything), taking the hand of a silent and lost Hinata. âIâll pay the bill andââ
âItâs already taken care of; we can go,â Satoru gently interrupts, following you to his car.
And itâs on the silent drive back that you realize something.
Youâve officially fallen in love with Satoru Gojo.
°°°°
âLook, Mom, Dad and I made a drawing for you!â Hinata proudly holds up a colorful picture with three easily recognizable characters on it.
âDid you brush your teeth?â you ask as you take the drawing to admire it, just as much smiling as your daughter. She nods and then does a little twirl to show off her new pajamas that Satoru gave her earlier in the day. âItâs beautiful. Youâre so talented,â you chuckle, leaning in to plant a kiss on her cheek.
Satoru appears in the doorway of Hinataâs room, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest, a perpetual playful smile curving his lips. âReady to go to sleep?â
âYes, and I showed our drawing to mama,â Hinata asserts, bouncing on her bed.
âOh yeah? Did mama like it?â Satoru asks softly, his eyes now locked with yours.
âMama loved it and thanks Daddy,â you whisper, your voice quivering with emotion that threatens to spill over.
Half an hour later, Satoru and you find yourselves in the hallway with a sleeping Hinata and her little lullaby snores.
Satoru wraps his arm around your waist as usual and buries his face in your neck. Your heart is already racing, and your breath catches when he says, âIâm sorry.â
âWhy?â The embrace is a simple hug but with unspoken words easily guessed.
âFor everything.â Satoru sighs, and for a split second, you hope heâll let you speak, but no. âI didnât mean to make a scene andââ
âAnd you think Iâm going to blame you for protecting us? That I wasnât touched by what you said about Hina?â you mumble near his ear. The closeness gives you another chance to see his ears turn red. âIs Satoru shy?â you giggle, open to teasing. He hums, hiding his face so you donât see his expression.
âI love you.â
You blink, because you must have heard wrong. âHuh?â
âMarry me.â And heâs already on his knees before you, eyes pleading. That usually confident cerulean blue is now so submissive, so close at hand⌠But the sudden turn of events leaves you stunned. âI want to be your husband, not just have you as my wife. I want to raise Hina with you and give you everything you need.â Not letting himself be distracted by your stunned expression, he continues, âWant my money? Iâll give it to you. My house? It will be in your name. Want my body? It belongs to you. My heart? Itâs already yours.â And he starts kissing the backs of your hands desperately. âI love you, I love you⌠Please, marry meâŚâ
âSatoru⌠Youââ you stammer, backing away, your brow furrowed. Everything is a jumble in your head, both from his touching declaration but also because itâs all moving too fast for you. âYou⌠love me?â you manage to whisper.
He crawls to you and wraps his large arms around your thighs, almost choking with desperation. âI fell in love with you as soon as I saw you, as soon as you covered me from my father, as soon as I heard your laugh, saw the amazing mother you are, and realized I never wanted you to leave this house.â He whispers your name like a divine invocation. âIâve fallen in love with you more than just once.â
You donât immediately respond, and thatâs okay in his eyes. He doesnât want to pressure you, just for you to know the truth and for him to be completely transparent with you.
âItâs okay if you donât share my feelings; I just want you to know thatââ But heâs cut off by your rush toward him on the floor as you press your lips to his, pulling him into the dance of your lips that one gives to the other in a long, passionate kiss. âGod⌠I love you so muchâŚâ
âI love you too, Satoru,â you murmur against his mouth between kisses that turn into moans as he slides his warm, wet tongue between your lips to request access to your mouth.
Both of your breaths become ragged and heavy. Satoru takes the opportunity to lift you by the underside of your thighs and lead you to his bedroom, carefully closing the door behind him without breaking the contact of your swollen, desirous lips. He gently lays you on the king-size bed with silver satin and frost-blue sheets.
With a tenderness of loving slowness, Satoru breaks the kiss. âDo you want to continue?â he asks, his voice husky. You nod timidly, but he shakes his head with his mischievous smile â finally back. âNuh-uh. Your words, sweetheart.â
âI want it, Satoru,â you reply after a sigh of exasperation so adorable in his eyes that it makes him laugh, then he places a light kiss on the corner of your lips.
âAlright⌠Gonna take care of my beautiful girl, the best, the most wonderful mother, and maybe future wifeââ He places a finger on your lips. âOh no, youâll answer that later if you want, when I have something concrete for that occasion.â
You sigh in frustration because the answer is already on the tip of your tongue, but it soon turns into a moan as he kisses the side of your neck with such deliberate slowness that you really wonder if heâs going to tease you to the limit. His hands roam over your clothed chest, exploring your already hardened nipples. His lips find their way to your collarbone, marking it with love bites and hickeys that elicit muffled moans from you.
âIf you knew how long Iâve dreamed of doing thisâŚâ Satoru comments with a touch of affection, his fingers deftly undoing the buttons of your shirt. âExactly how I would act with my wifeââ
âAnd your father?â And he chuckles again.
âWe donât care about him.â He casually tosses your top aside to tease your sensitive, erect nipples through the fabric with his thumbs. âSuch humble underwear⌠Would you like me to buy you something more daring?â he purrs, pulling on a strap to snap it against your gooseflesh-covered skin.
âWould you do that?â You bring your lips to his, and he immediately responds to the kiss. You also remove his black turtleneck sweater to reveal his toned, muscular torso. An adventurous hand glides over his chest, making him groan slightly, and then stops at his lower abdomen where a vein runs lower down. You place a kiss there with a small, sly smile.
For the first time, youâre about to make love with someone.
âHmm? Satoru? Have you ever thought of me in outfits like this?â Your nimble fingers unbutton his pants, revealing a prominent bulge in his fly.
âSweetheart, donâtââ he hisses between his teeth from the sensation of the slight friction between his erection and your eager fingers as they pull down his pants to caress and rub his dick through the thin fabric of his boxer. âYour hands feel so goodâŚâ He breathes softly, his hands stroking your bare arms with a feather-light touch.
âAnswer my questionâŚâ you purr, your nails pulling at the underwear to free his hard, twitching cock. The tip is perfectly reddened, with veins coursing along its pale length of 8 inches. Almost automatically, your mouth waters, and you waste no time kissing the slit of his already glistening tip with pre.
âBabe, donât teaseâŚâ Satoru closes his eyes and lets your hand wrap around his length, begging to be touched. âF-fuckâ Yes, yes, Iâve thought about it, about buying you the most expensive and luxurious lingerieâ ah!â he almost whimpers. You take a little over 2 inches of him into your mouth to stroke the base. âBut also in those maternity clothesâ oh god⌠C-can you really blame me?â He rolls his eyes and canât help but buck his hips toward you, his body pleading for your mouth to take care of him.
You withdraw his cock from your mouth to whisper, âSo youâre a naughty boy, hmm?â
âI wonât last if you keep this upâ hgnnâŚâ he whimpers completely, his dick splitting your mouth in two as you take him all in. Your head starts to bob back and forth, and he is so close that he spills moans of your name. âGânna cum, baby, donâtââ
You hollow your cheeks, and the next moment, he cums in your mouth, long, thick ropes of his release filling your already full mouth with his shaft. You hum under his orgasm and swallow slowly. You slide his dick out of your mouth with the same rhythm to smile at a Satoru with ears as red as his cheeks.
âF-fuck, sweetheart,â he pants, his calloused finger wiping away the mixed cord of your saliva and his cum with a swipe of his thumb.
âM-hmm⌠You taste so sweetâŚâ He doesnât let you continue and crushes his lips against yours, tasting himself on your mouth. âI want you, SatoruâŚâ
âIâm yours, princess.â He helps you quickly remove your remaining underwear so that youâre completely naked in front of him, knees resting on the expensive mattress. He kneels at the foot of the bed, and his fingers explore your sensitive, already dripping cunt.
âSo wet for me⌠Did I do this to you just with my cock?â His fingers spread your swollen folds to gather your fluids and rub your throbbing, needy clit.
Your nails dig into his arm as you lift your hips under the sharp pleasure. âSatoru, it feels goodâŚâ you gasp in a whimper. His forefinger and middle finger spread your wetness all around your intimacy. âPlease donât teaseâŚâ
âNot tease? Werenât you doing it, sweetheart? What a nerve,â Satoru scoffs, tapping his finger at your entrance. âCan I?â
âPleaseâŚâ You wince as you move your hips down for more. And thatâs exactly what he does, immediately inserting his finger into you, cursing.
âYouâre so fucking tight⌠and so wet,â he curses, his finger moving in and out of you with careful softness. âI can already fuck you without making you cum first.â He stops finger-fucking you and looks up at you. âIs that what you want, love?â
You nod before arching your back on the bed. Satoru climbs onto the mattress and helps you wrap your legs around him. âThatâs itâŚâ He takes his length in his hand and teases your responsive cunt with the tip to get it wetter.
âDonât tease, Toru, I swearâŚâ And he smirks.
âToru?â
âSorry, Iââ
His tip presses against your tight, pulsing entrance, and he grins. âI want you to moan that nickname while I fuck you, âkay?â He grips your hips to pull you closer to him, and with one swift movement, he slides into you, a groan escaping from behind his lips as your deliciously tight, warm, gummy walls wrap around him as if you were meant for him.
The stretch causes a slight discomfort at first, and you almost cry in relief when Satoru notices. He patiently waits for you to adjust before starting a slow, deep rhythm inside you.
You widen your lustful eyes, tears forming at their corners. âAh! Toru⌠Jusâ like thatâŚâ Your eyes roll back as the tip of Satoruâs dick hits the back of your cervix, making you shiver and tighten around him. âFuck⌠sâdeepâŚâ
âSo fucking perfect, so fucking mine,â Satoru groans, his hips rocking into you without ceasing to swell between your gummy walls. His chest rises and falls in a breath as ragged as yours, asking for more every time you moan for him to go deeper. (He discreetly rolls his eyes and babbles incomprehensible words â completely pussy drunk.)
And thatâs exactly what he does. He slams back in brutally, making you cry out his name with each thrust. âShhh⌠You donât want Hina to hear us, right? So keep quiet, babyâŚâ He helps stifle your gasps and moans of pleasure by capturing your lips with his, alternating between fast, rough thrusts and slow, gentle ones in your hole that he fucks shamelessly.
Blood rushes to your ears, a rare sensation you havenât truly felt the last time you were with someone. It wasnât just about carnal pleasure between Satoru and you â but about love. The fusion of bodies loving each other and providing mutual pleasure, even as they burn for each otherâ physically and emotionally.
One of Satoruâs hands slowly slides to one of your breasts and teases a sensitive nipple. The arch in your back encourages him to detach his mouth from yours to capture the other nipple with his wet lips. The growl he lets out sends a wave of intense shivers through you, making your eyes roll in overstimulation.
âP-please, Toru, please, Iâm already close,â you whimper against your trembling palm â a feeble attempt to contain your sweet sounds as he speeds up his hip movements in your sloppy cunt â the sound of his balls slapping your skin filling the room. Your words are punctuated by the tightening of your walls around him, swearing he could cum inside you just from hearing you beg.
âCum on my cock, baby, cover it,â he coos, giving another kiss to your abused chest. The clenching of your jaw with your teeth dug into your lower lip forces you to groan. âWant me to fill you up?â And you nod, tears showing your imminent orgasm. âAnything for you, my beautiful girl.â His hips slam against yours, and his fingers continue to tease your breast, rubbing your puffy clit.
Satoruâs own breath becomes heavier, more labored as he keeps singing praises while you gasp, his lips pressed along the line of kisses heâs placing down your jaw. âT-Toru, Toru, cumming!â you cry out as your walls spasm around his cock while he reaches his peak and fills you with his hot, liquid release, warming your lower abdomen. You see blinding stars illuminating your vision.
He hisses almost gutturally, his nails digging into the flesh of your hips. âOh god⌠S-Squeezing me while Iâm cumming tooâŚâ He closes his eyes for a moment, letting his peak subside at the same rhythm as yours, his forehead damp with sweat resting against your chest.Â
Only pants and groans escape your lips, each one accompanied by difficult swallows and the feeling of your sweaty bodies pressed against each other.
âHow was it? Did I make you feel good?â Satoru asks immediately, once his breath has returned.
The concerned questions touch your heart so deeply that you lift tearful eyes to him. âAre you going to leave, after this?â
His expression falters, and he gently withdraws from you to envelop you in his embrace. âNo, baby, of course not⌠I wonât, I swear on my life I wonât leave you⌠Iâm not him. Iâm the one who hopes you wonât leaveâŚâ he whispers hurriedly. âDonât think about that. Iâll always be here, for you and for HinaâŚâ
You sniffle, your eyes red. But Satoru smiles tenderly, wiping away your hot tears. âSave your tears for later, sweetheart.â
âWhy?â You clear your throat.
He sighs, the aftermath of the effort from the activity settling on him, and places a chaste kiss on your sweaty temple. âDid I tell you that my father invited us to dinner tomorrow night?â
âNo,â you shake your head, âbut whatâs the link?â
âDonât you understand?â he murmurs in your ear, butterflies fluttering in your stomach. âIt doesnât matter. Youâll understand in time.â
°°°°
âI see. So it was an unexpected encounter.â Gojoâs father nods, shrugging his shoulders. âBut I wonder how a woman like you can have feelings for such a foolâŚâ
Satoru chokes on a piece of meat heâs chewing and takes a sip of his water. You stifle a giggle, with some steamed vegetables speared on your fork, just waiting for you to devour them. For a man who appears so stern and strict, Mr. Gojo is quite a wealthy man who spends his days reprimanding his son for not doing this or that.
Yet, thereâs a certain paternal camaraderie between them â a father-son relationship, if you will.
âThatâs not true,â Satoru retorts, his voice still gravelly. He has an adorable pout on his lips, like a child wrongly scolded.
âYes, like youâre not a womanizer,â his father retorts, rolling his eyes.
âIt was so youâd leave me alone,â with furrowed brows, he wears a mischievous smile at his fatherâs incredulous expression, âbut sweetheart came into my life,â he continues, looking at you with a tenderness he has rarely shown.
âI hope you manage to put up with him until⌠well, until you decide to marry â if thatâs what you choose,â his father sighs, turning his attention back to the dish in front of him.
âSatoru isnât a bad person, you know,â you start gently. âHe is certainly a thoughtless brat with grotesque immaturity,â Satoru almost spits out his water this time, and you continue with a wry smile, âbut he has a great sense of attention and unmatched generosity. I believe he will be a good husband, I assure you.â
âI must admit,â he says with a wise smile, his wrinkles less pronounced.
Satoru casually says your name, âYeah, yeah⌠By the way, could you pass me the salt, please?â
You freeze, while Satoruâs father suddenly looks up with an incredulous expression. âWho?â
And you smack your forehead with the palm of your hand.
°°°°
The cries of a newborn fill the room as, breathless and on the verge of fainting, the midwives congratulate you, bringing your second child wrapped in clean blankets at your request.
âHeâs beautifulâŚâ Satoru murmurs as he approaches you, leaning down to the tiny baby with his albino hair and blue eyes â his exact likeness. âThank you, my love, thank you, thank you, thank youâŚâ His voice breaks as you raise a weak, exhausted hand toward him, but with a serene smile on your lips as you whisper how much you love each other.
He immediately wraps his fingers around yours, your wedding rings sparkling as they brush together like stars sealed for eternity.
⧠a/n: how i love desperate men, hihi! đ¤ hope you all enjoyed this one-shot!
⧠tags: @ssetsuka @zara-zara11 @bearwithmoo @elliesndg @lymsfm @mutsu422 @whathappenedtobees @drippymcdrippison
#[azra masterlist]#[dividers by @/saradika]#satoru gojo#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo x y/n#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo fanfiction#satoru gojo smut#satoru gojo angst#satoru x reader#gojo x you#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru#gojo satoru smut#gojo smut#jjk fanfiction#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#jujustsu kaisen x reader#gojo angst#gojo fluff#gojo x reader#jjk smut#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo satoru fanfiction#gojo satoru fluff#jujustu kaisen#gojo x reader smut
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MuĂąa | one shot
Summary : Marrying your bastard nephew to mend fences between your families wasn't exactly what you had planned. But when you realise that Jace has grown into a strong and handsome man, you might be ready to rethink your plans.
Rating : Explicit, 18+ MDNI
Pairing : Jacaerys Velaryon x Aunt!Reader (Reader is Alicent and Viseryâs daughter. Sheâs one year younger than Aegon)
TWÂ : p in v sex, mommy kink, sub!Jace (kinda), Dom!Reader (but they both switch tbh), inappropriate use of the word muĂąa, oral (f receiving), afab reader, incest, unprotected sex, not proofread
Words count : 8064
AN : hi everyone!! Iâve been very busy lately so I haven't had time to update BUT Iâve been working a bit on various fics. Sorry to all my Aemond girlies but today itâs time for some Jace x reader. Itâs a fic Iâve written for my gf whoâs turning into a Jace girlie đ¤Â It's full of indecency and inappropriate things.
Also English is not my first language, so sorry for the grammar mistakes !!Â
Enjoy đ¤
The gardens had become your refuge over the past few days. Under the shade of the trees, on the soft grass, you had found a peaceful haven away from the excitement caused by the arrival of your half-sister and her herd of bastards. The Red Keep made you feel suffocated. And seeing your mother pacing back and forth, running left and right, didn't help. You had to calm her down. You had to keep an eye on your older brother, making sure he didn't slip away into the maze of Flea Bottom for the umpteenth time. You had to hold your family together, and you were tired.Â
You almost envied Daeron, in Old Town, away from the hustle and bustle of the court.
At least no one would think of looking for you where you were now. And you could enjoy a moment's respite, poring over the thick book you had borrowed from Aemond's library. Had he known that you had entered his room without warning, had he known that you had dared to disturb the perfect tidiness of his precious bookshelves, he would probably have threatened to feed you to Vhagar. But what he didn't know couldn't hurt him. Besides, you could perhaps find a way to pay him back later.Â
For now, you just needed to be left alone.
You stretched out, arms reaching for the sky. The sun's rays crept through the leaves, their warmth leaving a pleasant sensation on your face. Summer was back and you were delighted. The gentle breeze that ruffled the corners of your book and occasionally lifted the silver curls around your face gave you a sense of freedom. You deftly kicked off your shoes and lay back for a moment, your eyes closed.
Footsteps echoed on the cobbled floor, and you sighed in annoyance. You didn't have to open your eyes to see who it was. You recognised his footsteps. So, you kept your eyes closed. With any luck, he would continue his way and leave you alone to find someone else to annoy.
"Hey, my favourite little sister," Aegon exclaimed as he landed heavily beside you, his body brushing against yours. You opened one eye to acknowledge him, then closed it again, your arms crossed behind your head. "Aren't you supposed to be keeping an eye on me?" he insisted when he saw you weren't answering him. "You know, make sure I don't run off or end up drunk somewhereâŚStuff like that. Which our mother probably asked you to do."
A smile tugged at the corner of your lips. It was true that Aegon was terribly annoying. But of all your siblings, Aegon was still your favourite.
You resigned yourself to rolling onto your stomach, your chin resting on your hands and your head tilted sideways to face him.  "My dear brother," you replied sarcastically. "Unable to occupy yourself, as usual."  He rolled his eyes before reaching out to remove a leaf that had gotten caught in your hair. He subtly ran his fingers through one of your curls, his touch as light as a feather. "And why have you decided to come and disturb my moment of peace, tell me?"
He blew the leaf away and you watched as it flew away on the breeze. Your big brother's eyes shone with mischief. "Why would I need a specific reason to spend time with my favourite sister?" he added, and it was your turn to roll your eyes. He moved to lie next to you, his body practically pressed against yours.Â
If you moved a few centimetres, your elbows would touch his.Â
You'd always been inseparable, and the habit had stuck over time, even when the teenage years had driven you apart. But in those moments, you were like two children again, ready to run away from Septa lessons to get into mischief in the castle.
âBecause you always have a reason for everything,â you replied, and he looked at you with a fake hurt look that was greatly exaggerated. With Aegon it was easy. It had always been easy.  He wasn't as serious as Aemond, he wasn't as strange as Helena, and he wasn't as far away as Daeron.
"I just wanted to make sure my little sister was all ready to meet her betrothed tonight." He paused. "And also, that she hadn't suddenly decided to become a pious woman and follow the path of the Seven." His voice lowered. You poked him in the ribs. "See? I'm a caring big brother. I care about you."
"Shut up, Aegon," you replied. He laughed. Then he rolled onto his back, arms crossed behind his head, one leg bent, and he closed his eyes. The golden rays caught in his long lashes made him look like an angel.Â
Everything he wasn't.Â
'Well?' He added. âExcited to see Jacaerys Strong?â
You sat cross-legged. The bracelets on your wrists clinkled. Aegon knew how much the idea horrified you. You had no desire to marry Jace, to sacrifice your freedom for your half-sister's bastard eldest son. You had no desire to leave the Red Keep, to follow him to Dragonstone and spend your life bearing him children. It was your mother and Rhaenyra's idea, of course.
The union of the eldest daughter of one and the eldest son of the other, as a way of repairing the rift that has grown between your families over time.Â
As if you were destined to mend fences, to undo the mistakes of your own parents.
It wasn't that you hated Jace. But he was your older sister's son, a bastard who had pretensions he shouldn't have precisely because he was a bastard. He was the model son, the perfect son, the prodigy son, the one who always did everything right. It irritated you. He irritated you with his brown curls and his awkward posture.
 It wasn't fair that your father showered him with praise when he could barely remember your own name.
You stood up, smoothing the folds of your red dress to make yourself more presentable, and you caught your brother's eyes on your body, his eyes riveted on the thin fabric that revealed your delicate shapes. God, you loved to play with that. You knew how to get men wrapped around your finger with your sweet, innocent air, and Aegon was the first victim. You approached him and held out your arm to help him up, which he accepted by pulling himself to his feet heavily. After putting your shoes back on, you bent down to pick up the thick book in your arms. If you lost it, you could be sure that Aemond would be angry with you. And that was a risk you didn't want to take.
 "Perhaps you're right, lÄkia. I'd better go and make myself more presentable for my betrothed. I wouldn't wish to disgrace our family." And with that you turned back, your hair swirling in the air behind you as Aegon watched you go with a small smile on his face.Â
You knew how much Aegon hated being ignored, and even more so when it came from his little sister. You knew that he would return with his tail between his legs and a pleading look on his face. Between his constant whining and his dirty jokes, he gave you little respite, but it was a game that had developed between you; a game that, deep down, you enjoyed.
He was so predictable.Â
âIf I had known you liked strong men, I would have dyed my hair,â you heard him shout from behind you. Aegon wasn't the least bit shy. You shook your head, your silver locks bouncing.
"Get lost, you moron," you replied without even turning around.
The meal in honour of your betrothal promised to be exciting.
***Â
As soon as he saw you, your nephew rose to pull the chair beside him in a gallant gesture, and you found yourself watching him. Really watching him. His long, broad fingers on the back of the chair. His dark locks falling around his face. His precise features; his straight nose and deep eyes and square jaw. You hadn't realised how much your nephew had changed. He'd grown up too, and he was now a good head taller than you.Â
He had become a strong man, indeed.
But you refused to admit that Jacaerys Strong had become quite pleasant to look at.
"Princess," he said, pushing the chair back for you to sit down. Fingers brushed the skin of your partly bare shoulders. The touch had lasted a fraction of a second, enough to make you wonder if it had been a figment of your imagination.Â
"Lord Strong," you replied in greeting. If the words hurt him, Jace didn't show it. Always the perfect son. What would it take to push him over the edge? To crack the shell he'd built around himself? To shatter the image of the gentleman?
To your right, Aegon was already seated. He was holding a glass of wine between his fingers while Aemond seemed to be lecturing him about something you couldn't understand. The exchange between you and Jace had obviously not escaped his notice, and the corner of his mouth had already curled into a smirk. You knew what it meant.Â
His silence was full of implications, louder than any words.Â
Your mother had lectured him before dinner, warned him to behave because that was what was expected of him, and she was counting on you to make him obey.Â
But your older brother didn't say anything. He simply raised his glass in your direction, his lips forming a word that you couldn't read. You weren't sure if you were relieved or disappointed.
You looked at your nephew. He had donned a gambison in the colours of the Velaryons, and you couldn't help but smile at the irony of the situation.Â
After all, a bastard in blue was still a bastard.
"Enjoying King's Landing?" you asked your betrothed, in an attempt to start a conversation. His attention turned to you, his eyes widening slightly in surprise.Â
âIt's quite different from what I remember,â he replied, his voice a little lower than usual, his warm eyes meeting yours. âBut of course it all depends on the company you are with."
You hesitated, suddenly unsure.
You hated what the sound of his voice did to you. You hated the way his eyes suddenly made you feel vulnerable.Â
Fuck.
âIt all depends on the company, indeed. And do you find yourself in good company tonight, nephew?" You gave him a defiant look, as if to judge his reaction.Â
As if to unveil what he held within himself.Â
âI'm not quite sure. Should I?â He paused, one eyebrow raised. He had taken the bait. âWhat would yousay?â
His eyes sparkled with something you couldn't quite put your finger on. It wasn't the malice you usually found in Aegon's eyes when he wanted to tease you. It wasn't the gleam that animated his mind when he came up with a new plan for you to cover.Â
"I would say I'm in pretty strong company," you replied as you took your cup, a satisfied smile tugging at the corner of your lips that you hid behind the glass.Â
You were cruel, giving him no respite, you knew. But you admired his composure. He hadn't cracked yet.Â
You knew men who were less patient.
Jace leaned towards you. A slight tilt of the head, just to make sure you were the only one to hear him. As if he wanted to share a secret with you. âCareful, Aunt,â he began, his voice suddenly quieter than before. It was almost a whisper. âI might begin to think you enjoy my company.â
You know I don't, you wanted to reply, but Jace had already straightened up as if nothing had happened, his head turned away from you. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Baela give him a questioning look, and an unfamiliar sensation stirred in the pit of your stomach.Â
An unpleasant heat.Â
A hint of irritation.
You were annoyed, and you didn't know why.
âLook how handsome your betrothed has made himself for you,â Aegon sneered as he reached for the decanter and leaned in close to your ear. âA true Velaryon, isn't he?â He huffed.
You wanted to slap him on the thigh, make him swallow his mockery.Â
âIf you think he's so handsome, I can happily leave him to you,â you replied, and Aegon's eyes widened. You saw him take a sip of wine, and something deep inside you told you he probably wasn't opposed to the idea. His usual mischievous smile was hidden behind the wine glass, but there was no mistaking his eyes.
Aegon had that tendency to give himself away, and you could read him like an open book.
The meal proved to be as boring as you had imagined. Small talk exchanged over fake smiles. An illusory moment in which everything seemed to be going well for one evening.
You weren't fooled, and you knew it was all a facade. You knew your family well enough to understand that the slightest spark could set things alight. You knew your brothers well enough to realise that all it would take was a simple glance between them to liven up an evening they found dull.
You just hoped they wouldn't cause too much trouble tonight.
To your left, Jace was still deep in conversation with Baela. They had that kind of complicity that made your blood boil inside; a shared laugh that sounded in your ear like the squeaky music you hated. You frowned. It was you, his betrothed. It was you, not Baela, and you didn't understand why that statement was suddenly so important.Â
After all, you despised this union. You hated Jace. You had no desire to promise him the rest of your life.
Jace was a bastard, and you deserved better.
So why did the sight of him touching Baela's hand cause a twinge of jealousy in your body?
His fingers brushed over hers absently. A light touch on her knuckles.Â
And all you felt was fire.
And then. Then, your fingers slipped under the wooden table.Â
You knew you were playing with fire. And you knew that if anyone paid too much attention to what you were doing, they would see that you weren't exactly behaving like the perfect Princess Targaryen you were supposed to be.
But you didn't care.
You let your fingers wander, running along the outside of Jace's thigh before moving up to settle in the hollow that connected his thigh to his hip. With a faint touch, your fingertips brushed the inside of his thigh, and then lower, tracing small circles through the fabric that was already beginning to tighten.Â
Jace almost choked.Â
He spat out the contents of his glass, his dark gaze fixed on you. Everyone had fallen silent, their heads turned towards him. Rhaenyra's eyebrows were furrowed in concern.
And you hadn't removed your hand.Â
An innocent smile lit up your face, your eyes sparkling with mischief. You wondered if Aegon could read you. If he could see that look on your face, so similar to his own. That distinctive feature you shared.Â
Deciding to play with your prey a little longer, you put on your best fake concerned face, pretending to be worried about his health.
"Are you all right, Jacaerys?" you asked, your voice a little higher than usual as your nails dug into the fabric of his breeches. Not to hurt him, of course. Just enough to wake a certain part of him, just enough to remind him that you were his betrothed.
He cleared his throat and coughed again.
âI swallowed wrong,â he replied.Â
Your fingers crept a little higher, trying to explore his upper thigh, where you knew your nephew would be sensitive. You didn't want to be rational tonight, you wanted to let the fire take over and consume you.Â
You wanted to let the sleeping dragon within you awaken.
The taste of the forbidden was divine, and the heat spreading through your lower belly was too delicious to stop now.
"Be careful, mandianna. We're not married yet." you said.  We're not married yet and look where I've got my fingers. You kept your thoughts to yourself. "I wouldn't want to find myself a widow already," you replied in High Valyrian, amused, and Jace looked at you with his big brown eyes, somewhere between anger and excitement, embarrassment and curiosity.Â
Under the table, out of sight, your hand brushed the stretched fabric where you could read the confirmation of what he was feeling, the manifestation of his desire.
He was hard.
Perfect.
It was you who provoked this.Â
He responded to your touch.
You felt a familiar breath on the back of your neck and realised Aegon was leaning against you again. He was pretending to serve you some of the vegetables that had just been brought in for the starter, taking the opportunity to whisper in your ear as he did so well. "Try to be more discreet, little sister," he chuckled softly, his voice nothing more than a whisper to make sure no one heard you. Discreetly, he nodded to where your hand still rested on your nephew's thigh. He tilted his head. "Rhaenyra is right in front of us. Do you think she can see what you're doing to her son under the table?"
He put on his best disinterested face. As if the words exchanged between you were nothing more than banalities.Â
As if he weren't commenting on the indecent deeds you were doing under the table, unworthy of a girl of your rank.
"Shut up, Aegon," you replied, trying to keep a straight face. You didn't want him drawing any more of your family's attention to you, especially when you hadn't finished playing.
Your big brother gave you a knowing wink, as if to promise you that your secret was safe with him.
And you decided to continue entertaining yourself with the new game you'd invented.
You were bold, and you decided that if Jace didn't already know it, he would find out soon enough.
***Â
It wasn't that Jace was disappointed with his betrothal. You were divine, and the dress you wore made you so regal that he couldn't keep his attention anywhere but on your body, on your cleavage so gracefully offered to his gaze.
It was precisely why he had turned to Baela, why he had tried to distract himself with their conversation, why he had desperately tried to find something else to hold on to.
Because you were making him lose his footing. And that was a feeling he hated.
No, Jace did not regret his betrothal. You were everything a man could want; you were beautiful, you were regal, you were clever, and above all, you were a Targaryen. A princess. The king's daughter.
The only problem was you were distant and elusive.
Jace remembered your pretensions and mockeries from his childhood. He remembered the little brat you were, following in your older brother's footsteps. He remembered a little girl with a strong temper, who knew what she wanted. He remembered the pranks, not just the ones he'd taken part in, like the Pink Dread, but the ones that had turned against him because of you and Aegon, too.
It was clear that the little girl you had once been, taller than him, with long silver curls and an air of self-assurance far too confident for her young age, had grown into a beautiful young woman.Â
And that was something Jace hadn't considered.
He couldn't concentrate on his conversation with Baela, not when your fingers were digging through the linen of his breeches into the flesh of his thigh, as if to remind him to whom he had been promised. Â
Your fingers, slender, light, burning against his inner thigh.Â
He clenched his jaw.
All around him, the words and faces of the guests mingled in a swirl of sound and colour. Fuck.
Fuck.
His breeches were really becoming too tight.
You'd dared to do that. You'd dared to slip your fingers under the table, in front of everyone, and Jace didn't know whether to admire your audacity or wrap his fingers around your wrist and force you to take them off.Â
Suddenly he felt hot, a familiar warmth spreading between his loins.Â
He wasn't sure he could get up, not with his member pulsing between his thighs.Â
Fuck. You weren't supposed to make him feel like this. He wasn't supposed to feel such a desire for you when you weren't officially married.
This dinner was about officially declaring your betrothal, not consummating a union not yet pronounced.
He was trying to calm down. He tried to ground himself back into reality. Perhaps by staring intently at the contents of his plate he could ignore the sensation of your fingers rising dangerously high; the desperate need to finally have your fingers wrapped around his manhood.
His knees slammed into the table in a sudden movement.
Your fingers had just brushed the bulge that had formed between his thighs.Â
And he needed more, infinitely more.
You couldn't have the cruelty to arouse such lust in him and then leave him like that. He would never forgive you.
"Stop that," he growled in your direction, low enough for no one else to hear.Â
But you still had that damn innocent smile, that damn audacity to act as if nothing had happened.Â
"I don't know what you're talking about, mandianna." Nephew. The sound of the High Valyrian rolling off your tongue sent a wave of heat between his legs. Seven hells, you were going to be the death of him.Â
He wanted more.Â
He needed more.Â
More of your fingers around him, more of your tongue against his length, more of that innocent look on your face as you knelt before him, more of your tight cunt.
Jace was on the verge of losing it. You'd made him a slave to his own desire. You had closed your claws around him and he knew there was no turning back now.
âIf you play with fire too much, you might get burned, muĂąa," Jace retorted, leaning towards you, and he felt the imperceptible movement of your hand twitching at the threat. Aunt.
Despite his dwindling strength, King Viserys tried to make a speech about family, betrothal, and a whole host of other undoubtedly honourable values, but neither you nor Jace paid any attention. You were caught up in your own game.
Then Jace stood up, forcing you to remove your hand.Â
You could see he was uncomfortable, for you knew where to look, for you knew what you had done.Â
You knew he had a painful erection between his thighs, and it was all because of you.
But you could only admire your nephew's composure.Â
âTo my uncles, Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond. I have fond memories of our shared childhood.â His glass between his fingers, he raised it in the direction of his uncles, then turned to you. "And to my sweet and beautiful bride-to-be, who I'm sure will never cease to surprise me with her daring and surprising side. May our marriage be filled with joy and satisfaction".
The toasts continued, as did the meal. The servants had brought the rest of the dishes consisting of steaming meat and tasty garnishes. It was almost too joyous, almost too happy to be real. As if there was a threat lurking somewhere in the corner.
But Jace still had to teach you a lesson.
The music started, the sound of instruments filling the room. Jace apologised to Baela and walked over to his aunt. His other aunt. Your sister.Â
And you felt the anger return; the same inner turmoil as before.Â
Jace had held out his hand to Helaena and led her to dance a little further away. You immediately exchanged a questioning look with your brother, who had also stared at Jace in disbelief as he had walked away on your little sister's arm.
"So?" Aegon began. "It seems your betrothed didn't appreciate your little game?" You glared at him, but he just scoffed. "If he changes his mind... You know I like it."Â
You wondered if you could do the same. You wondered if you could ask Aegon to dance and if Jace would feel the same bubbling inside him, the same jealousy coursing through his veins.
You hated that feeling.Â
You shouldn't feel that kind of emotion, especially not for him.
You obviously didn't see it, too focused on your own annoyance, but Jace kept glancing in your direction, as if to make sure you saw him.Â
He wanted to make you jealous. He wanted to fuel the feeling he'd identified in you. He wanted to catch you at your own game. And one thing was certain, Jace hadn't played all his cards yet.
Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
After a moment that seemed an eternity, your betrothed returned to sit beside you, Helena going back to her own seat. You were less and less able to hide your annoyance, and no doubt Jace noticed, for he leaned towards you, a satisfied look on his face. "Your sister is very sweet," he murmured. He knew very well that this simple phrase would be enough to send you over the edge.Â
You liked attention. You liked compliments. You liked to be praised.Â
You said nothing back. But Aegon had his trademark grin, the one that stretched his lips when he had a devious plan, and he was already getting up on the pretext of serving Baela some wine so he could whisper in his nephew's ear.  "I know my little sister can be particularly demanding.â He paused. âAnd difficult to tame. So if you ever need any advice... Or demonstrationsâŚ"
Jace was fuming, but he knew he had to keep his cool. It was Aegon, typical Aegon, to push his buttons, to succeed in making him suddenly unsure of himself, to make his mind confused. His fingers closed around his cup, his jaw clenched, and it took all his self-control not to throw the contents in his uncle's face.Â
He didn't even look at Aegon, who had returned to his seat with a triumphant smile.
But you felt something under the table. Something slipped between the folds of your dress, along your skin, discreetly, lightly, a delicious touch against your skin that made you want more.
Your eyes widened.
Jace.Â
Jace the perfect son. Jace the model son.Â
Jace slipping his fingers under your dress, touching the skin of your thigh, rising dangerously high where you could already feel the wetness forming in the crease between your thighs.Â
This was the moment he snapped, you knew it. You hadn't heard your brother's words, you had only seen him lean towards your betrothed, but you knew he must have struck a chord with Jacaerys Velaryon. That he had probably touched his weak spot.Â
Or perhaps you were just getting your comeuppance. After teasing him, after making him hard and desperate.
Jace moved his hand, tracing the space where your skin was soft and tender, all the way up your thigh, with a slow, gentle touch. His hand moved further towards the centre of you, where you were sensitive, and he brushed against your crotch. He didn't even need to apply any pressure with his fingertips to tell that you were wet.
Your hips automatically moved towards his hand in search of more contact, causing you to wiggle in your chair. All you wanted to do was grab his wrist, force him to slide his fingers under the fabric separating you, force him to touch you right here. But you were still at dinner and the game was becoming far too dangerous.Â
"I told you to be careful," Jace whispered as he withdrew his fingers and resumed his serious gaze, his fingers fidgeting on the wood of the table. âTwo can play at this game.â
And then perhaps the Seven heard you. Perhaps they were offering you a way out. To be honest, you weren't sure if it was a miracle or a curse. For Aemond had risen, and he had done what he did best; he had made a mocking and provocative speech to his nephews.Â
Everything happened quickly. Jace and Luke leapt to their feet to answer the provocation, Aemond and Aegon were ready to fight back, and even Baela and Rhaena were prepared to defend their family. You had no time to move, no time to react, for dinner was already over, and so was your little game of cat and mouse with Jace.
This was your way out, you knew it. You were tired of sitting around a table listening to boring speeches. And the entertainment that had consisted of sliding your fingers under the table to push Jacaerys Strong over the edge had now turned against you.
"I shall rest," you warned your mother, who was deep in conversation with Rhaenyra, her features wrinkled with worry. "Tonight's events have left me somewhat tired. And I think a night's rest would do me a world of good."  She nodded, stroking your hair, and you knew instinctively what she was thinking. Always the perfect daughter.
And as you passed through the heavy door of the dining room, you hurried off in a direction that was not that of your room.
Oh, but if she knew.
***Â
Thankfully, the corridor was deserted. You didn't have the slightest desire to run into a guard who would ask you where you were going or escort you to your room for security reasons.Â
Your steps were as discreet as possible on the stone floor, like those of a small mouse. You moved quickly, stealthily, almost on tiptoe.
Only the crackle of the fire broke the heavy silence between the cold walls, where the dancing shadows of the flames distorted.
You slowed your pace. You had a doubt. You weren't sure which door was the one you were looking for.Â
And then suddenly, as you reached the end of the corridor, you felt a hand grab your wrist and pull you against the wall, away from prying eyes. A strong grip, as if it didn't want to let you vanish again.
Jace was holding you between the wall and his own body. Despite the darkness, you could see his eyes shining in the candlelight, fueled by a devouring hunger you didn't know he possessed. He stared at you for a moment. His eyes in yours. A tension hung between you, burning, ready to consume you both, and you were completely willing.
Gently yet firmly he turned your body. Your chest against the cold wall, your back against his warm chest, and you pulled your hips back to provoke him. You wouldn't succumb so easily, not to Jacaerys.
He pressed himself against you, moving his pelvis forward so you could feel his hard member against the top of your buttocks.
"Do you feel what you're doing to me?" Another thrust of his hips. "Can you feel the effect you're having on me?" He pressed harder against you. Through the layers of fabric between you, you could almost feel him throb. Gods, he seemed big. "Teasing me all evening... Such a tease, aren't you?"
If it wasn't the consequence of your own actions.
You stifled a moan with your arm so as not to attract any patrolling guards. What you were doing was dangerous. At any moment you could be caught. At any moment you could be in big trouble.
But you couldn't stop now. Not when the best was yet to come.
You moved again, seeking more contact, seeking to make Jace harder and more painful than he already was, and you turned your head to challenge him. "What if it's you who's just too weak?"
You felt his hoarse breath against the back of your neck, at the base of your hair. He seemed to be hesitating, thinking. About what he was going to do to you, about what he was going to do to make sure you were responsible for your actions. Again he turned you so that you had your back to the wall, facing him, and you recognised the gleam of desire in his eyes.
Towering over you, he lowered his gaze to you, your faces inches apart. For a moment he let his eyes devour you, wandering from your eyes to your lips, from your lips to your breasts, visible through the fabric of your dress. He wanted to keep this image printed behind his eyelids; your half-open lips, your pleading gaze, like that of a little girl caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
You looked ravishing.
"Tell me to stop," Jace murmured. And you knew it was the sensible thing to do, you knew it was better to stop everything now, while it was still possible to turn back. For you weren't married yet.Â
But you had no desire to be responsible.
His fingers curled around a lock of your hair and tucked it behind your ear, waiting for your answer before continuing.
"What if I don't want you to stop?" you replied, your eyes locked with his. He felt your hand against his cheek as you detailed his face, tracing his well-sculpted cheeks, and he longed for more contact, his face seeking the warmth of your palm.Â
You put your arms around his neck to draw him closer, to close the distance between your lips, to feel his warmth against your body.
To quench this desire, this need that was becoming uncontrollable.
And your lips met in a feverish, urgent kiss. He pressed you further against the wall, his fingers running down your sides, brushing against the breasts he so craved.
He found your hips and his fingers worked frantically up the bottom of your dress in a crumpled ball of fabric to reach your core. "Look at how wet you are." His fingers brushed your folds through your undergarments. "All of this just for teasing me." He pressed one hand against the wall, still leaning against you, but not giving you what you wanted: his hand had stopped, and you tried to wiggle your hips to force him to continue, to force him to give you what you wanted.
Deep down, you loved the way he was losing control.Â
You loved that side of Jace you didn't know.Â
So you grabbed his wrist, guiding his fingers under the last barrier that separated his skin from yours.Â
The sensation was delicious.Â
The touch of his warm fingers against your folds sent a wave of heat from your lower belly through your entire body. You didn't want him to stop. "Here." You breathed against his lips. "This is where muĂąa needs you." Aunt. He tensed beneath you, and you wondered if it was the ambiguity of the family tie, uttered in High Valyrian, that had such an effect on him.Â
You let your lips brush against his.
He collected your wetness on his fingers, exploring the slit between your folds up to your little pearl. You were soaking wet. And you desperately needed him inside you.Â
His fingers slid down to your opening where he applied a little pressure with the tip of his index finger without ever penetrating you.
"I know," he murmured, drawing small circles before abandoning your opening to return to your bud. "But I can't give you what you want now."
You whimpered under his cruelty, against his lips.Â
You could see through his game.Â
He wanted to make you beg, but you weren't the kind to beg. You were the one with the power and you were going to show him.
"We shouldn't stay here," you muttered, rubbing yourself against your nephew's hand. "If someone catches us..."
Jace nodded his head in agreement, withdrawing his fingers glistening with your juice, which you guided to his own lips, spreading the stickiness against his lips.Â
"If you're a good boy, I'll let you taste me."
And with that, he pulled you into his room.
***Â
Lying on the bed where you'd pushed him, Jace watched as you removed your dress, his prominent erection stretching the fabric of his breeches. The dress fell to the floor, forming a red puddle that you stepped over, one foot after the other.
Your nephew couldn't look away from your hypnotic figure, but his eyes inevitably wandered back to your breasts. You'd seen him glancing at your cleavage all evening, you could tell he wanted to run his fingers over your soft flesh, his lips over your nipples, and now that you were completely naked in front of him, you could see the unmistakable desire in his eyes.
You walked up to him. He clenched his jaw when he saw you. You, and the perfection of your shape, your little pointed nipples, the tantalising path that led from your chest to the space between your thighs where he knew you were soaked for him.Â
The flat of your hand pressed against his chest, forcing him to lie down between the pillows. He complied, never breaking the eye contact between the two of you, and you took your place on top of him, your legs on either side of his body. His husky breath escaped through his parted lips, lightly caressing your face.
You were naked, he was still dressed, and you had infinite power over him.
You lowered your hips against his covered crotch, the essence of your desire staining the linen of his breeches as your hips began to move slowly.
You leaned down and traced his jaw with the tip of your lips, planting kisses along his throat. Underneath you, his member twitched. Mimicking what he'd done earlier, you let your fingers rest on the painful bulge between his legs and whispered, "I know." You applied a little more pressure, drawing a moan from between his lips. "I know it's painful. But I can't give you what you want right now."
Jace growled. He wanted to turn you over, slam you against the mattress, pound into you and make you swallow your insolence. But he wanted to see how far you were willing to go. He wanted to see you keep control for a while longer.
You deftly undid his breeches to make it easier for your hand to slip through. You found his hard member, warm and heavy between your fingers.
It was a new sensation. As a model princess, you'd never ventured into this territory, saving your maidenhood for your future husband.
But Jace was your future husband.
You closed your fingers around him, your thumb collecting the sticky beads that had already formed at the tip of his cock and spreading it along his length.Â
"First I want to come on your tongue," your lips articulated against the skin of his throat as the hand that was in his breeches moved up his torso to close around his jaw, your thumb caressing his lower lip to emphasise your words. "Will you let me?" you added. In response, he let the tip of his tongue slip between his lips, touching the pad of your finger. "Let me show you," he whispered.
And indeed, Jace worked devotedly between your thighs, his tongue tracing the length of your slit, drinking in your essence as it flowed from your entrance like a delicious nectar. His tongue tickled your little knob, his thumbs spreading your folds to gain access to the treasure he coveted.
One of his fingers found your hole clenching around nothing, tracing small circles against it to force you to voice what you wanted. "Do you need me here?" he whispered against your flesh, the vibration of his deep voice sending shivers through your core. Your hands buried themselves in the dark mass of his hair and you moved your hips against his face, urging him to maintain the contact of his mouth against you. "Use your words, muùa," he added, despite his nose being buried between your folds.
When you gave him the answer he was waiting for, he let a finger enter you in a delicious stretch. You held back a moan, your fingers digging deeper into his hair, not caring if you were hurting him or not. He continued to explore your cunt with his tongue, like a thirsty man, like a devoted man.
You wouldn't last long, your release close.
Jace then added a second finger. The sensation of his fingers inside you, against that rough spot, combined with that of his tongue between your folds, against your pearl, was simply divine.Â
"Go on," Jace started, but you immediately cut him off. "Shut up." You didn't want him to speak. You wanted him to continue with his damn tongue, with his broad fingers inside you. You didn't want him to stop. "I am... I am close."
And your climax washed over your entire body like a wave of warmth. Your legs closed around your nephew's face.
It was probably one of the best sensations you'd ever experienced.
Still between your legs, his fingers gripping your thighs, Jace collected your arousal on his tongue, sending shivers of overstimulation down your spine, and your whole body shuddering in a brutal spasm. You straightened up, knees still bent, your hand returning to your nephew's hair to guide him over you, his face close to yours. You stroked his cheek gently, as if to let him know he was a good boy, and your thumb picked up the sticky fluid that was smeared all over the bottom of his face.
You were both out of breath. You from the intense release you'd felt, he from the dedication he'd shown.
A smirk formed at the corner of your lips, and you pressed your thumb between his lips to ensure he didn't waste anything. Jace tilted his face close to yours. "You taste divine," he breathed, turning your cheeks red. "But now I need to be inside you."
His fingers slipped between your thighs, where your centre was pulsing, still far too sensitive from the ministrations he had given you.Â
"You can give me another, can't you?" He asked, and you nodded, so sore.
After he undressed, Jace pushed on your shoulders to make you lie down, but you skilfully changed positions, taking him by surprise.
You were unwilling to give him the power he wanted, not yet.
Straddling him, you moved your hips to rub your crotch against his erect manhood, spreading your wetness along his length. Beneath you, his torso rose and fell rapidly, and the grunts he let out conveyed his need for more. So your hand sought his hard member, guiding it to your entrance without letting it penetrate you. "So?" you asked playfully. "Do you think you've been a good boy ? Do you think you deserve to be inside me?" You wanted to make him beg, and Jace could see right through you. "To be the first?" you added, lowering your voice slightly, as if you were telling him a secret.
But he wasn't sure he could hold out much longer.
So he capitulated, giving you the defeat you'd been waiting for.
"Yes." he breathed. "Please." Your victorious smile stretched your lips and you guided him further against you, pressing his erection against your opening. Fuck. He was massive.
He was about to breathe a sigh of relief, ready to feel your velvet walls tighten around him, but you blocked his hip movement.Â
It wasn't enough.
"Please who?" you asked, your fingers moving back and forth around his manhood. He glared at you. You were gloating. "Please, muùa," he finally begged, and you gave him what he wanted.
You lowered your hips to let him slide into you in a long thrust that stretched you around him. He was indeedmassive, and the new sensation of having him inside you was a delicious mix of dull pain and burning pleasure. You stood still for a moment to adjust to his presence inside you, your core throbbing around him. The initial pinch gradually dissipated, replaced by a pleasant sensation that sent a wave of warmth through your body.Â
And then he began to thrust in and out, pushing up to sink into you. "Fuck...fuck, you're tight," Jace growled. Your loose hair cascaded down either side of your face, tickling his cheeks, and he caught it in a messy bun to hold it behind your head.Â
You could feel the same pleasure as before building up in your lower abdomen.Â
Gods, you could feel him so intensely. So deeply too. Bouncing rhythmically against that particular part of you.Â
You buried your head in his neck, his woody scent filling your nostrils.
It was primal. Animal, between the two of you. All that mattered was the here and now. Your body against his, the sweat beading between you, the moans filling the room.
Jace tugged at your hair, causing you to throw your head back, freeing access to your chest, and he straightened up into a sitting position, his member still deep inside you, to find your breast. He buried his face in it and your hand instinctively found the back of his head to stroke his hair. Jace's lips traced a trail of kisses down the valley between your breasts, following the curve of your flesh before closing around your nipple, which he sucked gently. One of his arms wrapped around you to hold you tight against him, his other hand resting on the breast he wasn't devouring.
You stayed like that for a while, your legs on either side of him, his mouth seeking solace in your breasts, the divine sensation of being full, with him inside you, in the softness of the night, the flames rocking your lovemaking.
One of Jace's arms finally found your back and in one swift movement he reversed position. He desperately needed more, sensing that he wouldn't last long.Â
He pinned you beneath him, against the mattress, your legs immediately closing around him and the pace quickened.  His thrusts became more messy, more sloppy because of your two combined essences.  "You're mine, now" he grunted, and you shivered. His index and middle fingers wandered between your folds, caressing the spot where you were joined before moving to the pearl hidden at the top of your slit. "Am I?" you replied teasingly. You could feel him throbbing inside you. "Then be a good boy now and give muùa your seed."
That was the spark that ignited the fire. Jace quickened the rhythm of his hips, his fingers still buried between your folds, his movements erratic. With each of his thrusts, you felt his member hitting that sensitive spot against your spongy inner walls. You tensed and for the second time that evening, your release flooded your entire body.  You were followed by your nephew as Jace spilled into you, his seed painting white ropes against your womb.
He lay still inside you for a moment, his cock softening as you both caught your breath, your hands in his dark curls, his head at the nape of your neck.Â
You winced as he withdrew from your still sensitive core, his now cold seed flowing between your thighs. Jace dropped down beside you, satisfied. Then you turned to him. You grabbed his wrist one last time and guided his fingers to your centre, where your folds were smeared with the remnants of your lovemaking.
"Look how much you've left inside me," you whispered into his ear, making Jace collect his own seed on his fingertips and push it back into you. "I'm going to keep it all inside me, would you like that, sweet boy?" you whispered again.
And Jace pulled you against him to kiss you, his member stirring between his thighs, against you. It was true that he'd given you the upper hand this time. But he was ready to show you what he could do. You snuggled up against his chest, tucking your head under his chin.
"PerhapsâŚWe should bring the wedding date forward."
And he smiled.
#jacaerys x reader#jacaerys velaryon#jacaerys x you#jacaerys velaryon x reader#jace x reader#jace velaryon#hotd x reader#jacaerys smut#jacaerys x y/n#jacaerys x fem!reader#jacaerys velaryon fanfic
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đđđťSpooky Greetingsđťđđ
A/n: This literally came to mind when I saw something similar in the actual game event. First time posting twst content here. This may get a sequel. Gonna try to post variety spooky content here cause HAPPY OCTOBER YALL!
SPOILERS for the new Halloween game event going on, somewhat. Also, a bit of Skully x fem!reader and implied fem!reader x the twst bois shown/tagged down below. Short Harem drama, kinda. Not much. But I think it ain't half bad.
*DON'T STEAL, COPY, EDIT, REPOST AND TRANSLATE MY FANFIC WORK. REBLOG, LIKE, FOLLOW PLS N THNX.*
âHello, my lovely~â
The moment this new strapping figure â âSkully J. Graves at your service~â â appeared holding you in his arms as you awoke, you were awestruck at the spooky strapping young man.
After introducing all of yourselves, watching him kiss the hand of your schoolmates was amusing; seeing their appalled expressions. Guessing they don't get that brand of greeting often, huh?
Him kissing Grim's cheek had his fur stand on end to your delight.
And yet?
The moment he took your hand â only to pull you in and kiss you smack dab on the lips?
You felt the fires of envy and hate turn ablaze as the various pairs of eyes glowed outrageously.
Many hands, gloved or not, snatched him off you.
And all hell broke loose.
âGet your grubby hands off my beloved, you cretin!â Riddle turned red even his paled up Gothic aesthetic; Trey holding the struggling boy back in his arms.
âHe means MY herbivore, skeletal bastard.â Leona growled in Skullyâs face as he grabbed his collar.
âOn the contrary, MY angel isn't up for auction when it comes to kisses from mere worms.â Azul's irked smile gave off unpleasantness.
âOho? That doesn't seem to be the case, surely.â Jade jested to his boss's ire.
âMY jewelâs already doing so, octo pimp. That goes for you too, street rat.â Jamil hissed them both back and forth.
âHave you no manners of consent, you mongrel? Besides, my darling Y/n has better taste than you all. Me, for example.â Vil flaunted in the others irked faces; Epel looked just about done at this point.
âDon't you dare take away my Otaku goddess, you noob!â Idia gripped dramatically to the others nuisance.Â
âHow dare you lay a finger on my beloved human.â Malleus spoke doom.
The air around them crackled with literal lightning as emerald flames had his hands full.
âMy future Queen ⌠prepare yourself ⌠FOR HELL.â
âWAKA-SAMA!â Sebek switched to fanboy mode at his God's might.
âFor once, we're on the same page.â Leona's smirk sent his way spoke volumes as he dropped Skully before the dragon prince.
âTSUNATARO, STAND DOWN! ALL OF YOU, PLEASE!â You got in the way to defend the new anime boy from the others' united wrath, especially Malleus's. âOne kiss is not that big of a deal.â
You could hear a pin drop now as everyone, even Skully, viewed you as if you had two heads.
âGood grief. Ya sure you're not magical? Cause you're bewitching them into lovestruck fools. And you're not dating any of âem. God, you're an idiot.â Grim griped.
Leona, Jamil, and Sebek appeared as glowing eyed phantom monsters ready for the kill. âYOU'RE ONE TO TALK, FUR BALL!!!â
Yet Skully looked unperturbed, his charming toothed smile arised, as Grim got chased by three SSR dressed pissed off mages. âOya oya ⌠What a lively bunch, you all are. And all because I took a kiss from your sweet lips, lovely Y/n. But if you are single, then may I ask you out?â
âNO!!!â All the former overblot cases now turned bachelors for your token affections shouted in unison.
Trey, Jade and Epel and you hung your head in exasperation.
Ah, quite the Harem dilemma.
Halloween coated, no less.
#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x you#twisted wonderland x mc#twst x reader#twst x you#twst x y/n#skully j graves#riddle rosehearts x reader#leona kingscholar x reader#azul ashengrotto x reader#jamil viper x reader#vil schoenheit x reader#idia shroud x reader#malleus draconia x reader#various x reader#twst wonderland#twst oneshot#riddle x reader#leona x reader#azul x reader#jamil x reader#vil x reader#idia x reader#malleus x reader#skully x reader#skully j graves x reader#halloween#twst spoilers#twisted wonderland spoilers
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hiii!! :3
i saw you asking for fluff requests so... perhaps it's cold out, and the reader is out with hotch (maybe going out to a crime scene or smth) and the readers shivering and hotch looks awfully warm in his coat, so ofc the reader just goes up and asks for a hug! (just to warm up ofc. no other reason to ask your hot boss for a hug đ¤) (maybe the reader manages to slide into his jacket)
tysm! <33
The Jacket Incident | [A.H]
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!Reader CW: it's just cold and you were stupid enough to not wear a warm jacket. Also reader is shorter than Hotch. Fluff.
WC: 0.7k
Why is reader literally me in this one. I'm so dumb and not good at staying warm.
           The wind howled through the dark, desolate street, biting through the thin layers of your windbreaker as you and Hotch made your way back to the crime scene. Youâd been out there for what felt like hours, and no amount of walking had kept the cold from seeping into your bones. Your fingers tingled with numbness despite being shoved deep into your pockets, and a shiver ran down your spine for the hundredth time.
           Hotch, of course, looked completely unbothered. He stood a few feet away, his demeanor calm and composed despite the freezing temperature. You couldnât help but envy him a little. While you were practically freezing, he seemed like he hadnât even noticed the cold.
           As you shifted from one foot to the other, trying to get some feeling back into your toes, you watched him finish his conversation. The way he stood, tall and commanding, only seemed to emphasize the fact that he was probably the warmest person in your vicinity. His jacket, the heavy, padded one you both wore during cases in colder climates, was unzipped - wide open, practically inviting you inside.
           You bit your lip, glancing around, trying to work up the nerve to do what youâd been thinking about for the last ten minutes. He was your boss, but more importantly, he was your boyfriend, which gave you a bit more confidence. And the thought of his warmth was too tempting to ignore. Bracing yourself, you took a few steps closer until you were standing beside him, shivering dramatically to make your point.
           Hotch turned his head slightly, his brow furrowing as he glanced down at you. "Are you cold?" he asked, his voice gentle, but there was a hint of playfulness in his eyes.
           You nodded, giving him your best pitiful look. "Freezing," you muttered, teeth chattering for good measure.
           Hotchâs gaze softened, and he let out a small sigh, his eyes flicking to your jacket before returning to your face. For a moment, you thought he was going to suggest you head back to the car, but instead, he smiled - just a tiny, private smile.
           Without a word, he opened his arms, his jacket still hanging open, and gave a slight nod toward the space between them. "Come here," he said, his tone warm and inviting, holding the edges of his jacket.
           Your heart skipped a beat at the offer, and without hesitating, you stepped closer, sliding your way into his open jacket. As soon as you were enveloped by his warmth, the world outside seemed to disappear. The heat of his body instantly chased away the cold, and you sighed in relief, nestling against his chest.
           Hotchâs arms wrapped around you instinctively, the thick jacket falling around your shoulders like a protective barrier from the wind. He smelled like his usual aftershave, mixed with the faint scent of coffee and something distinctly him - it was comforting. His hands settled gently on your back, holding you close, and you felt his chin rest lightly on the top of your head.
           "You shouldâve said something sooner," he murmured, his voice rumbling through his chest.
You grinned, your cheek pressed against his shirt. "Figured youâd be too busy being all stern and in charge to notice."
           Hotch chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through you, and you could feel the coldness in your body start to melt away. "I always notice," he replied quietly, his voice a little softer than usual, the warmth in his tone matching the heat of his body.
           You snuggled further into his chest, your hands slipping around his waist as you relaxed into his embrace. The cold air seemed like a distant memory now, replaced by the steady beat of his heart and the comforting weight of his arms around you.
           "Thanks for sharing your warmth," you mumbled, your words muffled against him.
           "Anytime," Hotch replied, his hand giving your back a gentle rub. "Iâm always here to keep you warm."
           The two of you stood there for a while longer, wrapped up in each other, you were a sight for sore eyes. The wind and the cold now just background noise.
#aaron hotchner#hoe4hotchner answers#criminal minds#aaron hotchner x reader#hotch#hotch thoughts#criminal minds x reader#hotchner#x reader#hotch x you#aaron hotchner fluff#fluff#hotch fluff#criminal minds x you#criminal minds x gn!reader#aaron hotchner x gn!reader#gn!reader#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotch#ssa aaron hotchner#aaron#criminal minds fanfic#fanfiction#fanfic#criminal minds fanfiction#aaron hotch fanfiction#aaron hotch hotchner#aaron hotch x reader#hotch x y/n#1000 club
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Things that the citizens of the Devildom witnessed that will prove that this Human have the characters at their beck and call
Versions: The Brothers, Side characters
Warnings: Gender neutral pronouns for MC, Cussing, Slight yandere themes (Belphegor, Asmodeus)
Links: Masterlist
--------------------------------------------------
LUCIFER
This demon likes sticking to rules
Running on hallways? Detention
Eating during class? Detention
Not paying attention to class? Detention
No one is safe...
Except for one person.
The cafeteria if filled with loud noises, your voice shouting profanities to another demon specifically.
Everyone listening to the argument feels like they're stomach is about to burst out of nervousness because "What if Lucifer randomly comes in and put all of us is detention because we just stood by and didn't do anything to stop the fight?!"
And he did.
But what surprised them is that he didn't shout or anything, he just stood there for a few second and scanned the crowd looking for one of his brothers.
Spotted Mammon and came close to him before whispering something among themselves.
And then he just stood there
Doing nothing
As if it's just fucking okay to let a human, the exchange student at that, to scream and curse a demon because he won't cooperate into this project.
And when the demon started cursing back at you, the rules are suddenly so strict as if cussing will cause the end of the 8 rings of hell.
The demon is sent to detention, removed from the group, suspended, and many more.
And who knows? Maybe you pulled just a few strings to have that demon expelled.
But what the citizens sure know is that they never saw anyone again after talking to MC like that.
MAMMON
It was cute
Mammon would do anything for you, no matter how big or small it is.
One day, Mammon was spotted running around the halls of RAD.
Looking like he's getting chased by Lucifer, again.
But surprisingly, he's not.
He's just running around the school fetching your fan, notebooks, bag, pens, water or some snacks.
One time, you two were put in a group for this project and were talking about it with your other group mates.
Then you hit him with a "Mammon, I left my notebook on my desk in the potions class, can you fetch it for me?"
With just a blink of an eye, Mammon who was leaning on your shoulder just a few minutes ago is gone.
And with another blink of an eye he's there again with your notebook on his hands then he's back to leaning on your shoulder again as if he didn't just go to the other side of the school for a notebook.
LEVIATHAN
He's introverted
He won't go out his room if it's just for some lame party
I also headcanons for him to be the most unseen brother
Or like him having the smallest amount of photo and information online because he just won't go out.
Yeah, he won't go out if it's just some small, lame party but if Diavolo hosts it, what exactly can he do?
"Do you think the avatar of envy will attend this party?"
"Ha! No way... Lord Leviathan won't attend small parties or gatherings like these unless Lord Diavolo hosts it himself."
"Lord Leviathan really has a high standard when it comes to gatherings..."
And then poof
He's there
Beside you
A happy go lucky sheep beside a gloomy snake
What a match
And if you ask him why he would attend such gatherings when it's totally not even his style he would just go like "MC."
"What can I do? MC really wants to see the fireworks display."
"MC wants me to escort them."
So they got the hint on how to make Levi attend gatherings, either have Diavolo host it or invite MC too.
SATAN
He's angry
But not angry enough to yell when MC is around
Man's can go from đš to âşď¸ real quick as soon as he felt MC's prescense
He doesn't know why too, but whenever he yell while you're around he thinks he'll fall out of favor
"WELL MAYBE IF YOU'RE SO PERFECT THEN WHY DON'T YOU GO AROUND WHILE YOU HAVE YOUR HEAD FAR UP YOUR ASS- Oh, Hi MC? How are you?"
He'll talk so sweet in front you and then when you turn around you can see some veins popping out of his neck and forehead.
And if he can't really handle it and went berserk in your prescense another scary yet amazing thing you can is to put your hand on his body.
Shoulder, head, neck, wrist, arm, wherever it is.
Just pat him or link your arms with him and he will start to calm down.
ASMODEUS
People headcanon him to like it when you're obsessed with him but I think he's more obsessed to you.
Like he's down bad
You can do anything and he'll literally fawn all over it
"Look at the way they run their hands through their hair!"
"Look at how they work!"
"The way they hold that fork is so graceful~"
Literally, you're the only person that comes to his mind when someone said pretty
Except for himself of course
But I swear, whenever someone caught him staring at you the atmosphere gets so thick
You don't even know why but the atmosphere is heavy and the air suddenly smells so sweet
And those heart in his eyes, the way his pupils dilate
Yeah, you have this man worshipping you alongside himself
BEELZEBUB
Other than the fact that he's actually willing to share his food with you
He's willing to help you in any physical works
Like lifting up things, carrying your stuffs and sometimes even running errands for you
I mean, he actually doesn't do it a lot because Lucifer actually asks Mammon for this stuff because the things Lucifer needs to be done is a little...
Shady?
And he doesn't want to taint Beel's innocence.
So now since you're already a part of the student council when Lucifer needs to have something important finished but it requires physical work.
You and Beel will be partnered
And he doesn't have anything against it either
He likes it so much when you command him to do something actually
I mean, he's tall and buff but Lucifer won't ask him to do anything that includes hard labor except taking care of Belphegor
So you actually helping him make use of all those muscles made him feel a tinge of happiness
He feels like he's actually of use :)
BELPHEGOR
This little brat
He would kill for you and he means it
He's not scared to spill blood on broad daylight as long as it's for you
Someone bothered you? Dead
Oh this person annoyed you? Taken care of
Aw~ He told you you're cute and asked you out on a date? That's sweet! Dead.
He's just like that
He won't tolerate anyone who dared disrespect you
And Lucifer won't even put a stop into this
"I mean, Devildom is quite overpopulated and we don't want anyone disrespecting Lord Diavolo's plan on bringing the three realms together now." Is what he reasons everytime.
Oh, he also wakes up on command as long as it's you.
Lucifer and his brothers could be shaking him like he's dead and he won't even bother to open his eyes
But if you just pulled a "Belphie? Good morning..." Oh dear, he's wide awake and clinging to you.
#omswd#obey me headcanons#obey me nightbringer#obey me shall we date#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor#obey me mc#obey me x you#obey me x reader#obey me fluff#obey me scenarios#obey me crack
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AU where instead of Shen Yuan being obsessed with Luo Binghe, he's instead obsessed with the scum villain himself. I mean we all know Bingge is Very Not Good Person⢠but you know who else a Very Not Good Person� Say it with me: Shen Jiu
Like just imagine a timeline where Shen Yuan is writing paragraph after paragraph about how Shen Qingqiu might actually be a good person but Airplane is wasting his potential. The other commenters are saying he's delusional because he abused the protagonist and as all these TERRIBLE allegations towards him. So he's a clear cut villain.
But Shen Yuan is defending his fav with the vigor of a devout worshipper. He's constantly siting parts that are obvious plot holes and how they could give much needed context to Shen Qingqiu's character.
Other people are demanding for worst things to happen to Shen Qingqiu to spite him. Airplane caves. Shen Yuan actively commissions art and fics where Shen Qingqiu is happy. People tell him "Shen Qingqiu won't fuck you bro"
Shen Yuan isn't interested in that. He's a freaky little man with freaky little likes. He'd gladly take Shen Qingqiu's cold glares and even volunteer to have tea poured on him.
When he finishes PIDW, he's been outraged that Shen Qingqiu was killed off a while back. He's even more outraged that Shen Qingqiu wasn't given any mention at the end.
Now, imagine with me that he gets transmigrated into some NPC, literally Unimportant Character No°5. Probably as the head disciple for drama reasons. And as soon as Shen Jiu is brought in, scruffy and hissing as he is. He immediately hugging his thighs and saying he'll be peak lord for sure.
Please follow me into this suspicious alleyway as I continue to explain my vision fueled by sleep deprivation.
So now imagine your Shen Jiu. You're a former street rat and demonic cultivator, you aren't expecting to be liked or respected. You're expecting it, you've come to terms with it a long time ago. What you weren't expecting was for this random ass guy you have to call da-shixiong is immediately insane about you.
He met you first day, literally saw you bite a guy, and immediately started spouting out how you'll be the next peak lord and the absolute envy of Cang Qiong Mountain. You conclude he's missing a few screws because he said it in the most disgustingly sincere way.
You try to continue on with your life, trying to beat him and he looks almost... Excited about you beating him. So he's an M, you think to yourself. But then you see someone trying to beat him or you on something, and this guy immediately gets aggressive. Okay so he's just weird with you.
You continue to deal with him. He's weird but also weirdly respectful. He leaves if you tell him to leave. He defends you like it's his very birth right. He's always there to tend to you as if you were a god. He doesn't touch you and only sits around like a dog waiting for a command.
You eventually get strong enough to beat him, and this absolute buffoon is over the moon about it, already spouting about your supposed success again.
When you actually become peak lord, it isn't surprising. Your hype man has been saying it since day one, he was expecting it for some reason. He continues to spout out nonsense about how he just knew you were going to do it.
So what now? You obviously desire him carnally. What is the next step?
Okay so I know this wouldn't fix them. Almost without question this would make they both worse. But, hear me out, it would be funny. (Especially since just know Shen Yuan's entire inner monologue would be him saying he's just being a good friend as if he isn't being the gayest man in the sect and Shang Qinghua is there. That's an accomplishment to outgay the author)
#ignore me im insane#i can only articulate my ideas through silly haha jokes#but like y'all get it right?#svsss#jiuyuan#scumcum#shen qingqiu#shen jiu#shen yuan#shitpost#idk i'm just rambling#personally I always saw SY on the asexuality spectrum but still that man is PRETTY gay about men#especially pretty men#good for him
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Laios Touden and the Responsibility of Power
First off, let me gush just a bit about how fucking STRONK this man is. Olympic weightlifters are dying of sheer envy and lust over this man. He is a FUCKING POWERHOUSE.
My favorite panels ever, and judging by the cropping of the second photo, Tumblr agrees.
AHEM, where was I?
Ah yes. He's not just strong and incredibly hot, my man is literally an invasive species in this dungeon. He knows every single weak spot of every monster Thistle tried to throw at him and when he finds it he just fucking RAMS HIMSELF AT THEM AND TAKES THEM DOWN.
And when he's a dwarf HE LITERALLY BENDS STEEL.
"Beat Namari at arm wrestling"? My boy, she wouldn't let you anywhere near because you'd FUCKING BREAK HER HER HAND ALONG WITH THE TABLE. (It's such a fucking shame we didn't see Senshi at least raising an (perfectly plucked except it just grows that way naturally) eyebrow in the background when he sees this. Alas, he was too distracted by his hair.)
But I mentioned responsibility, didn't I? Strength is power in the dungeon, and we all knows what comes with great power. And Laios is, in fact, very responsible with that power!
(Futther examples under the cut, wee bit spoilers for anime watchers)
This scene lives rent-free in my head forever, because of two things: Thistle suddenly realizing just what the hell he's up against,
And Laios breaking Thistle's arm.
Now, I think Laios didn't mean to actually break his arm here, he's just half-blind and dizzy and knows he has to restrain Thistle or it will all go to shit. So that's what he does. The move you see above is a restraining hold. The point is that the person pinned down can't struggle much because the position of the arm presses the suprascapular nerve, so it hurts a lot, but unless they're held that way for too long they'll be fine.
But Thistle is TINY and elves are generally fine-boned. I think Laios really did just underestimate his strength.
And the moment the dragons aren't an IMMEDIATE THREAT anymore?
Laios heals him. Thistle's a better mage than him by miles, he could have done it himself. But no. Laios does it. He was too rough, too careless with his strength, and he immediately backtracked, fixed what he broke, and continued with more mindfullness.
And these are just the examples that stuck in my mind the most. And it happens often enough that the team isn't even fucking surprised! Laios' strength would 100% scare people who only saw him in a barfight and didn't know anything else about him. Hell, the other adventurers they meet fucking quiver before this guy who just took down a monster they had nightmares about in one blow, up until he opens his mouth and they relax. You put more malevolent software in that sort of hardware and he'd be the next Shadow Governor.
But Laios is Laios. He's a gentle soul at heart (a Great Pyrenese, specifically, the gentlest souls ever unless you're out for their flock) and he is VERY CAREFUL with his strength, ESPECIALLY around his team. Chilchuck, who is literally half his size and underfed to boot, can smack Laios as much as he wants with ZERO fear because Laios is aware he can hurt Chilchuck by literally tripping over him, so he just stays still and lets Chilchuck smack at him. I'd be surprised if he ever managed to leave a bruise. Chilchuck has to aim at Laios' weak spot (back of the knee here) just to get Laios to notice him!
But because I have some experience with marital arts and close combat, I think the fight with Shuro exemplifies my point so fucking well! Laios is HURT here, he's living every autistic person's worst nightmare.
And he HOLDS BACK. His restraint is fucking IMMACULATE.
Shuro is fucking lucky Laios still liked him when he started talking shit, because he would have broken his spine otherwise. Laios doesn't even take the fight seriously! He starts with a fucking SLAP.
Shuro retaliates with an actual punch (that does nothing but piss him off)
Laios wobbles. Shuro HITS THE DIRT.
And this is the part where he realizes just how outside his weight category he is. Shuro definitely has technique on his side, but that means jackshit when you need ten blows to to even bruise your opponent, but one hit from them will leave you drinking through a straw for a week. For a second there, Shuro thought he was in ACTUAL DANGER.
But instead of finishing the job, Laios tries to talk him down, which just sets him off again. Man was at his fucking LIMIT, and it snapped. Self-preservation who?
And the best part is? Shuro is throwing all his strength behind his punches and Laios just takes them, but Laios? He mostly pushed Shuro around!
They're mostly grappling here, precisely because Laios is very conscious his friend is pretty fragile right now.
And when he does have enough?
Shuro is flat on the ground again, and Laios has a black eye and a bloody nose. He sits down and five minutes later he's ready to go! Like yes, Shuro was at a low point here, but he's been mowing through monsters at only a bit slower pace than Laios' party. He's no weakling regardless. And Laios had to HOLD BACK SO HE WOULDN'T HURT HIM. And it's so obvious that Maizuru takes one look at the two of them and leaves them to their toussling.
When I saw her reaction I had to scroll back and take another look, because I was sure she would intervene! But she doesn't! She is aware of Laios' strength, she has to be, and she doesn't lift a finger to help her precious charge. She knows the big dog he's wrestling with knows to watch his strength.
And that's my whole point: my boi is STRONK AF! And he is very aware of his strength, and how he could hurt the people around him is he wasn't careful, so he is ALWAYS CAREFUL. He has deeply internalized the fact that to have strength is to be careful with it, to use it in service of people rather than to hurt them (possibly from his dad). He is going to SUCH a good king! He's not going to like the job but by GOD he will do it really well.
And I will give my right arm to see a fic about the first corrupt lord/governor/courtier who attempts to misuse their authority for their own gain. Kabru's gonna have to talk Laios out of an execution.
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Look at me
Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader
Summary: Being oblivious to Lukeâs feelings, you tried to get over him by getting a boyfriend, who just does not know how to treat you right. Inspired by the song âBoyfriendâ by Dove Cameron ~ âI could be a better boyfriend than him.â (jealous luke, friends-to-lovers, fluff, angst, pining, happy ending.)
Warning: Just the boyfriend being an asshole and unwanted physical touch for a split second, but nothing serious. Sorry if your name is Cole. Violence (physical fighting)
Note: Iâm sorry if there are a lot of errors, I havenât had the chance to edit this thoroughly so if it feels like a train wreck, then I'm sorry. I just needed to write this out, get it out there, so I can go back to revising for my exams in peace lol, cause this plot/idea has been at the back of my head, I could not stop thinking about it or study properly. Lowkey hated how this one turned out, but whoops.
Word count: 4.8k
âPeople say that eyes are the windows to one's soul,â you once told him. You two have been best friends for a very long time: five years of being attached to the hip. Yet, you were completely oblivious to the way he looked at you. Even everybody at camp noticed and thought it was bound to happen. They were so sure that Luke and you would end up together. So imagine everybodyâs surprise when something else occurred.
It happened right in front of Luke: Cole - a boy from Cabin 5 and son of Ares - asked you out, and you said yes.
It has been two months since that day. All Luke could do was sulk as he watched his best friend slip away. Of course, you still tried to spend as much time as possible with him. But even then, things have changed. There were no more of those content silences between the two of you. There were no more carefree laughs that made Luke feel like you two were the only ones that existed in this place. He used to walk you back to your cabin every night, hugging you good night or kissing your forehead close to your hairline if he felt brave enough. Moments like those convinced him you two would be like that forever. But his solace was taken in a split second. Now, you were so near, yet so out of reach.Â
It didnât help that he saw you every day, like right now, as you sat in the middle of a gathering hosted by your cabin. Gods, even the wind seems to be in love with you, judging by the way it was blowing through your hair as if it was trying to twirl itself around those lovely locks that Luke himself used to always tug behind your ears. The sight of you always bathed him in this warm feeling, like the morning sun. Hence his nickname for you: sunshine.Â
Then his brown eyes landed on the figure next to you, and they hardened. He has witnessed it all: Coleâs backhanded compliments, ignoring you on your birthday, leaving you alone to talk to his friends, occasionally flirting back with girls who batted an eyelash at him, and then blatantly telling you that you were overthinking it. Luke knew he could treat you so much better.Â
You were sitting with your boyfriend and his group of friends, who often gave you weird looks or snickers. Gods, if it was him you were with, heâd never make you feel excluded. He would have his arms around you and defend you if his friends ever made snarky remarks. Not that that would ever happen anyway; you were well-loved at camp, and all his friends loved you. But he would treat you well, nevertheless, not like that dumbass sitting next to you.
One of your favorite songs started playing, and Luke watched as you genuinely smiled for once tonight. You touched your boyfriendâs arm, muttering something to him. Luke knew exactly what you were saying to Cole because you and Luke used to do this together. Except, you never had to ask Luke.Â
Whenever your favorite tunes were on, Luke would immediately pull you out of your seat and dance with you, laughing as if nothing mattered at all. Nights like those, he liked to imagine that the stars above envied them and what the two of you had. Now? He felt like one of them, watching from the outside.Â
Lukeâs jaw clenched as he saw Cole shrugging off your hand on his arm. Gods, Luke felt like that idiot was taking you for granted, and his blood boiled. Before Cole, Luke used to always orchestrated some excuse to have you touch him - getting injured on purpose sometimes just to watch you frantically panic over his wounds and take care of him, volunteering to help you out with swords training just to touch your hand and pretend to adjust the way you were holding it, hugging you every time he greeted you and so on.
For a second, your mask slipped, and you had that look on your face, like something had left you emotionally wounded. It was the kind of look Luke would kill to never see again, and oh, the things he would do to get rid of Cole. Luke had to wrestle with the thought of marching up to Cole and beating him to a pulp. However, he did stand up to approach you.
You felt a hand touch your shoulder. When you peered at the person standing, your eyes immediately glimmered as they caught Lukeâs. However, something foreign was gleaming in his eyes. The Hermes boy has always looked at you sweetly. But the way he was looking at you right now was filled with something much more intense - borderline fervent, like an obsession.Â
Cole finally glanced over at you for the first time the entire night. Unlike you, he instantly recognized the look in Lukeâs eyes: hunger and longing. It was clear as day to everybody but you.
Luke extended his hand out for you to take and you understood right away. For the first time in two months, your hand touched his. Lukeâs chest sunk and his breathing lost its usual rhythm for a second as your skin made contact with his. The Hermes boy finally looked over to Cole, and the Ares boy saw an immediate shift in his eyes. Now, they were filled with animosity and - the most obvious of all - heated jealousy.Â
Luke led you away from Cole and started twirling you around. You let out a laugh - the kind that was infectious and has always brought a smile to Lukeâs lips. You both sang along to the lyrics. For once, your relationship felt restored, just like the good old days. Was it wrong that this was the happiest you have felt since you got together with Cole? You shrugged away the thought as the song slowly ended. Luke settled with both hands on your waist while yours were around his neck. Usually, you would put your head on his chest as you both slightly swayed around. But now that you were in a relationship, you kept a bit of distance between the two of you. You gaze up at Luke, who was already staring at you sweetly. The moment was perfect. Gods, you almost wished to stay in it forever.
Meanwhile, Luke hoped he could convey his thoughts through his eyes - the unspoken words he wished he had told you sooner. Could you not see the infatuation coursing through his veins whenever he was with you? Could you not see that you got him at your beck and call?Â
The look you gave him almost convinced him that you heard his thoughts. You leaned your head on his chest, caught off-guard by the speed of his heartbeat as it soothed you along with the music in the background. Feeling a heated look over his way, Luke glanced around and locked eyes with your boyfriend. Cole narrowed his eyes while Luke gave Cole a look of resentment and immense loathing.Â
Gods, he could be a much better boyfriend than Cole.
âHey, man,â when you heard your boyfriendâs voice, you lifted your head from Lukeâs chest and withdrew your hands around his neck. âIâll take over from here,â Cole practically pulled you away from Luke and started swaying with you. Instead of feeling happy that Cole finally danced with you after two months of dating, you felt wrong. Cole's hands were on your waist, but they felt sluggish like his heart was not in it at all. Your ear was against Coleâs chest, so you caught the sound of his heartbeat. It soundedâŚtoo calm, almost cold and shallow, causing you to twist your lips into a frown.
You glanced up at your boyfriend but saw him staring behind you instead. So you glanced back and caught a glimpse of Luke before getting pulled around by Cole, who roughly yanked your face towards him. He kissed you almost aggressively. There was something cynical and bitter about the way he was kissing you.Â
Cole opened his eyes and conceitedly made eye contact with Luke. The Hermes boy glared at the sight of Cole handling you so roughly, claiming your lips so smugly. If it was him, he would be kissing you for you; he would be kissing you to show you how much he worshiped you and the ground you walk on, not to prove an empty point.
You finally managed to pull away when Cole let go of your chin. âAll right, weâre done for the night, donât you think?â your boyfriend muttered, quickly leaving you to return to his friends as if nothing had happened. Despite feeling slightly aggravated at Cole, you hated that you couldn't care less of his words at that moment, and the first thing you did was look in the direction Luke had been before.Â
Yet, he was not there anymore.
~~~
Your cabin was not on the same side as Lukeâs cabin for this match of capture the flag. You were fighting off some people who were on the blue team. Years of training with Luke paid off because you managed to point your sword at the personâs neck and grinned when they put their hands up in surrender. You continued perusing through the area, trying to regroup with your team or take down another blue team member. However, you almost tripped as you witnessed Cole on the ground with Luke on top of him, repeatedly punching his face..
âLuke!â you called out, watching as Lukeâs action faltered, and his eyes darted around frantically around like a lost wild animal. However, Cole took advantage of Lukeâs momentary distraction to land a hit on Lukeâs face. The Ares boy got off the ground as Luke stumbled and went for another punch. However, Luke dodged it effortlessly and rammed Cole against a tree instead.
âHey, knock it off,â you yelled, standing between the boys to stop their flight. Luke immediately backed off, afraid he would accidentally hurt you if he didnât. But Cole, in the middle of his blind rage, still swung for Luke and ended up striking you across the face instead. Right when that happened, Luke pushed Cole again and rushed to your side to assess your injury. At that very moment, Chiron approached the scene with one of Coleâs friends next to him, who promptly told the man:
âIt was him. Luke initiated the fight.âÂ
~~~
Luke wished for somebody to put him out of this misery as he stared at you from afar helplessly. He was so dotted that it hurt. Somebody must have answered his prayers because your eyes met his from across the field. There was a bit of sadness behind them, perhaps regret from how things ended yesterday. You whispered something to your boyfriend, but Cole did not even spare you a glance and waved his hand as if dismissing you from the discussion. Lukeâs hand once again curled into a fist. He bit the inside of his cheek from the pain induced by his injury. The Hermes cabin counselor felt no bit of guilt in his body about his physical altercation with Cole. He felt smug at the sight of Cole with one black eye, busted lip, swollen cheek and a body sporting way more bruises than him.Â
You deserved better.Â
âHey, stranger,â you greeted, sitting beside Luke. Almost immediately, he hooked one finger under your chin, tilting your head lightly as if he was afraid he might break you. The boy scanned over your injury, sighing at the sight of purple forming under your skin, indicating an emerging bruise. Even so, under the moonlight, you still looked heavenly to him.
âDevon said you initiated the fight. Is that true, Luke?â Luke frowned at the mention of Coleâs friend. Great, now he knew another idiotâs name. Meanwhile, you have asked this because you knew him. There was no way the boy you knew would lose control like this and swing his hands first.Â
âNo, but whatâs the point of telling Chiron that? Itâs two against one,â he breathed out.
âLuke, youâre literally the friendliest and nicest counselor here. Of course, he would believe you,â you reasoned. You sighed disappointingly as Luke only shook his head in response as if asking you to drop it.
Now, you two sat in silence. It felt the same as the comforting ones you have had with him before - the ones that made you feel like you were at home in front of your fireplace, curled up with a book.Â
âWhy are you with him?â and with that, the comfort evaporated as the air thickened. You and Luke rarely argued or even disagreed, so it felt like an unfamiliar territory every time it felt relatively tense between you two.Â
âI know you, which is why I know that youâre absolutely miserable with him, so I donât understand why youâre still with Cole,â Luke commented, though his voice was quiet because he was considerate of drawing this type of attention to you. He had seen it before - Cole causing public altercations and storming off and you running after him with tears emerging from your eyes. He did not want to put you in the same position.
âY/N, please, as your best friendâŚâ there it was again, the word that used to make you smile brightly, was now the same one that brought you pain. You wanted more. â...You deserve better,â he uttered, his eyebrows slightly scrunched as he looked at you with those eyes. There it was again, the look so intense that you were convinced they could swallow you whole. Yet, you could not interpret them. So, you looked away.
âLukeâŚâ you said his name almost like a warning sign. The boy sighed at this.Â
His fingers gently tilted your chin towards him, urging you to face him. There was so much contrast in the way he touches you and the way Cole does. You knew precisely why Luke wanted you to look at him: your eyes were your tell for him. Years ago, after you told him that eyes were the windows to one's soul, he told you that he knew this already because he had learned that your eyes will always tell the truth for you. Thatâs how, in so many instances, he would be the first to notice whenever you're upset.Â
âY/N, does he make you happy?â you stiffened at the question. Words choked up in your throat as your mouth opened to answer. You wanted to say yes so you both could get over this conversation. But you knew he would be able to tell you were lying. The way he looked at you right now, as if you were the only thing that mattered. He seemed so vulnerable. Little did you right at this moment, Luke was willing to surrender and let you go if you said yes.
âOh, this is who you left me to talk to?â Cole's voice broke you both out of the trance. âThe person who beat your boyfriend?â Cole passive-aggressively spat, sneering from above as he looked down at the two of you. You called out to your boyfriend, but he quickly cut you off with a quick âUnbelievable,â before walking away. But Cole did this on purpose. He liked the attention he drew, even if they were at your expense, especially because he knew you would chase after him.
âIâm so sorry,â you muttered to Luke on your boyfriend's behalf as you stood up to run after him. Luke frowned as he shook his head. If you were his, he would never allow you to apologize on his behalf, nor would he give a reason for you to ever do that.
âUhm, what are you waiting for?â Annabethâs voice broke Luke from his irritated state. âGo after her,â the young girl nudged.
âI doubt I should do that, Annabeth. Last time I was with him, he ended up in the infirmary.â
âYes, but you need to go after her before itâs too late.â
âItâs already too late.â
âNo, itâs not,â the girl stated sternly, and when Luke peered over at her, he recognized the look on her face. From experience, he knew better than to doubt when Annabeth was right. So, he stood up and walked in the direction where you disappeared after your boyfriend.
âStop it, Cole. I donât want toâŚâ Your voice grabbed Lukeâs attention as he started walking in that direction, eyebrows furrowed.
âCome on, this is the least you could do to make it up to me,â Cole replied.Â
When Luke reached the scene, he almost went into an uncontrollable wrath when he saw Cole trying to take off your shirt as you objected and struggled out of his grip.Â
âI said âlet go,â Cole,â you yelled this time, pushing him back. Upon finally doing so successfully, a figure stormed past you and immediately flung at Coleâs cheek, right at the spot that was already bruising. The impact knocked Cole to the ground as he wailed from the pain. Averting your gaze to the person, you saw Luke. Like a deranged bull, Luke grabbed Cole by the collar and lifted him up, going in for another hit, but you quickly stopped him, calling out his name.
Cole, who did not learn his lesson, spoke again, âGods, of course! He runs to your aid again. You must be a good fuck for him to get this attached. How many times have you fucked him, huh? Gods, youâre such a whore, you know that?â If it were not for your hands stopping Luke and removing his grip from Coleâ shirt, Luke would have ensured Cole no longer had a face.Â
âCole, stay the fuck away from me. We are over.â Your words seemed to affect Luke more than Cole. It was as if Luke could feel an immense weight being lifted from his shoulders. âLetâs go, this is not worth it,â you told Luke. Cole barked a laugh at this.
âMan, youâre more trouble than it's worth. Do you know why no guys ever asked you out? Youâre fucking difficult and clingy, thatâs why. If it was not for that fucking bet, I would not have either.â Luke was about to launch at Cole but was caught off guard because you had already done it yourself. You punched him, aiming for his nose and teeth, making sure to break a few.
âYou fucking bitch!â Cole spoke after he howled in agony. He spat out blood as his nose started bleeding, âGods, youâre gonna pay for this.â
âOh yeah? Come on!â you challenged him, motioning him to come over. Any sense of calm or restraint you had was long gone. âIâll be the one sending you to the fucking infirmary this time,â right when you started approaching Cole again, you were quickly stopped by Luke. He stood behind you, one of his hands soothingly rubbing your back in an attempt to calm you down. Luke averted his gaze to Cole.
âIf you know any better, then leave, Cole. And donât come near any of us again, or I promise youâŚâ Luke trailed off, shaking his head as his eyes bore the weight of the promise he left unsaid, leaving it to Coleâs imagination as to what Luke would ever do to him if he ever saw the boy again. Something seemed to dawn on Cole as he saw the dark look on Lukeâs face. Cole finally decided to leave the scene, limping away from the area as he muttered some insults under his breath.
You turned around and inspected Lukeâs hand, which started bleeding again through the bandage. Taking his non-injured hand in yours, you wordlessly dragged the boy to the infirmary. Despite the excruciating pain spreading through his injured hand, Luke blushed at your action and followed you like a lost puppy.
The Apollo person on shift was someone you knew, so you managed to convince them to let you do the work on the Hermes boy. You observed his hand again, peeling off the dirty bandage from it. As you went to grab disinfectant, Luke softly held you back by flipped over his hand that was in yours so that he could take a look at your hand instead.
âAre you okay?â His words made you swiftly look over at him instead. There was a sad look on his face as he sat on the infirmary bed. You havenât seen him this hurt and dejected in a long time.
âAm I okay? Youâre the one with the bleeding hand.â
âYou punched him quite hard.â
âHe deserved it,â you settled on answering, hesitantly pulling your hand out of his so you could grab the things you needed.Â
âYou know I had that handled, right?â you asked mindlessly, trying to fill the silence as you disinfected his hand and wrapped a new bandage over it. âI donât need you to defend my honor or anything, Luke. I can hold my own ground,â you tried joking.
âNo, I know you can hold your own ground. Besides, I wasnât defending your honor,â he spoke softly, watching as you delicately held his hand with so much care. He wished you could hold him like that as well. A quivering sigh escaped his soft lips, his voice much less firm than he wanted it to be:Â
âI was defending the girl Iâm in love with.â
You immediately looked at him, only to see him already gazing up at you. It was as if a blindfold had been taken off, you finally understood what your other friends were referring to when they said that Luke had always âlookedâ at you. His eyes were filled with adoration. However, this time, they were also decorated with pain.
âI could be a better boyfriend than him,â he stated, almost like it was a fact, and your gut knew it was true, too.Â
âSoâŚ.Why not me? I watched you give Cole - a complete asshole - a chance with you. I watched him give you so much less than what you deserve. It pains me, but I still sit here and wait for you to look in my direction for even one second in the way I have always looked at you. I could be so good to you, Y/N. I waited for you to realize I could be the one who loves you so endlessly and treats you way better than all these guys combined. SoâŚwhy? Please tell me why and put me out of my misery. Why is it not me?â
âLukeâŚâ you rasped out his name. Despite the pain he was in, his heart could not help but throb for a second as it yearned for the sound of your voice calling out to him again. He almost scowled at himself for the way he was reacting to you. Gods, you managed to unravel him through the sound of his name from your lips. He hesitated for a second, wondering if he would even be able to take it at all - if he was given a chance with you. Would he be able to handle the way your skin felt against his, or would his heart burst into unstoppable flames? Would he ever be able to move on if you ended up breaking his heart, or would it remain in scattered pieces of you?
âI love you,â he uttered so effortlessly, which almost convinced you he had said it a thousand times before. In a way, he did, but only in his mind after every time he bid you goodnight. Gods, never did you think heâd say it out loud and put it out there. You almost said it before as well - out loud to the universe, but never brave enough.
âLuke, I never knew,â Luke wanted to sigh as he looked away from you. For the first time ever, he did not want to be vulnerable and let you see his eyes. The same ones that had been looking longingly at you for the past five years, and you were too blinded to see.
He could have sworn that he had been laying it on thick for the past years - all the touches, the looks, his actions. Luke would always linger near you and select you first every time he had to go on a quest. And if he ever were selected to go on one without you, the first thing he would do after returning is wrap his arms around your waist as he pulled you into a hug, breathing in your presence like it would bring him back to life from the gruesome battles he had to go through while out of camp. Did all those actions throughout five years not show you enough that he was infatuated with you? He wanted to reassure you that what Cole said previously was not true. Many guys wanted you but never asked you out because they knew he would be first in line no matter what.Â
"Luke, please, look at me," Of course he obeyed. His eyes met yours - the ones he always tried to find in a crowd of demigods.
âI never knew that you were an option. I did not know that I could choose you. I thought that even attempting to tell you about my feelings would break our friendship forever. I didnât know you felt this way, too. In fact,â you dryly chuckled. âI was giving Cole a chance because I was trying to move on from you.â Luke tugged you closer to him, his fingers lingering on your hips. Thousands of thoughts speared through him as he tried to collect himself. A glimmer of hope presented itself as his mind toyed with the idea of you wanting him too.There was no way he was letting you move on now, not when you both have mutual feelings.Â
âI thought I was deep in the friend zone. Did you not see all the moves I pulled on you?â he asked.
âWhat moves?â
âUhmâthe physical contact?â
âI thought you were just touchy.â
âI walked you back to your cabin every night!â
âWell, I thought it was just a best friend thing?â
âThe first thing I do after every quest is search for you, youâre always the first one I want to see.â
âI really, really thought it was because you were my best friend.â He groaned at all of your responses.
âBut do know, Luke. You have always been my first option in everything. And I would have chosen you again and again, the first pick every roundâŚif I knew you were up for it.â He groaned again, but this time out of temptation and satisfaction. He didnât think the metaphorical butterflies were real. He slowly but surely stood up from the infirmaryâs bed and wrapped his arms around your waist. You reciprocated, your hands around his neck. He leaned closer to you and gulped. He wanted to say the right words, do the right things and not mess this up. He took a deep breath and finally settled on what to say next.
âCan I kiss you?â He muttered in a low, raspy voice with a restrained manner, as if he was holding himself back. Five years of pining led him to this point. You almost melted at the sound of his voice.
âKiss me, Luke.â
And he did. He pulled you up and arched down, connecting your lips together. He dove in as if he had been waiting for this day his whole life. He felt every breath knocked out of his lungs. He sunk himself into this moment like he was living for it rather than in it. He kissed you as if it was the only time he could and as if you would evaporate if he stopped. His hands moved to your face to embrace your cheeks in his palm.
You started moving your hands up his head and played with his curly hair. You tugged it slightly, and the action drew a moan from Luke. The sound caused you to break away. It made you flustered that you had evoked such an alluring sound from the Hermes boy.Â
âI wanna go slow for you, I really do. But it feels like Iâve been waiting for so long. I want to be a gentleman and not skip steps. But I canât wait anymore,â he whispered before whimpering against your lips, âplease be mine.â
He went in for another kiss again, but you pulled away. His heart clenched at this. The boy bit his lip and wanted to scowl at himself for attempting to speed things up. He was too greedy and wanted things too quickly for you. He almost whined at the thought of losing the chance he barely had.
âThat was not a question, Luke. Ask me, and Iâll give you an answer,â he stared into your eyes, and it almost set him on fire. He never saw that much passion in them before. It almost matched his, and that made his heart fasten again.
âWill you be mine, sunshine?â
âYes, Luke. As long as youâre mine too.â
âI have always been yours.â
ââââââââââ
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Dark Past
A common demon on the street caught your eye. You slowed, almost to a halt, just to gaze at them. They paid you no mind at all. You were two strangers with no connection in the middle of a crowded street. As they passed, you turned your neck for one final glance before continuing on.
The seven demons you were walking with noticed your little stare. Some of them exchanged quizzical looks. None of them had ever seen that random demon before. They didn't look special. Leviathan paused in his tracks to glare daggers of envy at the stranger, cursing them in his mind for stealing your attention.
"Someone you know?" Satan asked. It was hard to hear him over Mammon shouting, "Who was that?"
"What?" You fixed your eyes on them, confused by the sudden outburst. Beelzebub tenderly placed a hand on your back and guided you around some uneven pavement.
"Who was that demon you were staring at?" Belphegor asked.
"I wasn't staring at anyone."
"Yes, you were." Lucifer didn't question you, but he crossed his arms expectantly. His brothers would do all the work of wrestling an answer out of you for him.
"I saw you rubberneck so hard, I thought you were going to chase after them!" Asmodeus must have been exaggerating. You only glanced at that demon for a second max, or so you believed.
You didn't think it was a big deal, and brushed the incident off with, "they just reminded me of something." You hoped that would suffice as an answer. It did not.
"And what would that be?" Satan sounded like a courtroom interrogator trying to corner a lying defendant.
At some point, the eight of you had come to a stop in front of a closed and shuttered business, letting the foot traffic flow around you. The seven of them boxed you in and blocked your view of the rest of the street, circling you like a pack of hungry sharks. You waved your hands at the ridiculous bunch.
"I was just looking! What's it matter to you guys?"
Mammon got right up in your face. "I'm in charge of protectin' you! I can't be lettin' you stare at every chump lookin' to take advantage of ya!"
Asmodeus pulled him aside, claiming, "you should just look at me! I'm the only demon you'll never get tired of staring at." He gave you a wink of fan service that would have sent anyone else into a lustful fervor.
"I... also... don't want you looking at other people," Leviathan mumbled while lacking the courage to look you in the eye. His hand fidgeted with the bottom of his jacket.
"There are many dangers in the Devildom. You know that we have a responsibility to keep you safe, both as an exchange student and as someone very dear to us." Lucifer always had a way with words.
"So, who was that?" Beelzebub asked. He was followed up by Belphegor wondering, "do you know them?"
"No! They just..." You took a deep breath before your admission. "Ok. They look like the demon I would pretend to be when I was a kid."
There it was, the truth. Out in the open. There was a long beat of silence.
Belphegor was the first to go "huh?"
Leviathan caught on quickly. "Like, a demonsona? You had a demonsona?"
"It's something a lot of human kids do," you hurried to explain. "On playgrounds and stuff. When we're little we imagine we're secretly vampires and demons and cool monsters. It's fun but we grow out of it, usually."
Belphegor tried to clarify. "So you pretended you were a demon, and that you looked like the one who just walked by?"
You swear you heard Lucifer snort, trying to hold back his laughter.
"That is sooooooooo cute!" Asmodeus did not hold back. He started cracking up, his high-pitched laughter ringing around the street, and wiped a tear from his eye. "So, for years you played pretend demon?"
"Want me to go get them and ask for their picture?" Beelzebub offered. "I can catch up pretty quickly.
"No!" The offer was mortifying. "Lets just go, we have to finish our errands."
"You had a demonsona," Leviathan repeated with a smile and a chuckle. "That is kind of cute."
"Why somebody like that loser? Why not imagine someone cooler, like me?" Mammon flexed his wings in a show of vanity, as if he could make child-you change their mind.
"I didn't know you then, Mammon. I was, like, ten. All demons were cool."
"That's funny. Humans are so silly," Belphegor chimed.
"I was a child!" You spun to look at Belphegor, sticking an accusatory finger in his face. "You don't get to make fun of me, seeing as you pretended to be human when we met. You're thousands of years old! Act your age!"
"Ok, but I can do that because I'm a demon." Belphegor explained. He ran a hand through his hair, making his horns briefly disappear. "It's what we do."
"Yeah, it's different for us," Satan agreed.
Lucifer cleared his throat and stated, "I imagine we should continue this conversation while walking, now that we have an answer. Unless you lot want to spend all night on the street." He took a step back and gestured down the road in the direction you all were headed.
Sensing an escape from this topic, you nudged your way through the wall of demon brothers and followed after Lucifer, hoping to leave this memory behind. One by one, everyone else followed suit.
Leviathan sped up to match his pace to yours. Once the group was back on track and you thought the conversation was in the past, he asked, "so did you imagine having any cool powers?"
#they're never gonna let this go. they're gonna bring it up at least once a week forever.#eating salad âhey MC do you remember when you pretended you were a demon?â watching TV âhey MC remember when-"#obey me#obey me!#omswd#obey me shall we date#obey me scenarios#obey me headcanon#obey me x mc#obey me swd#obey me fanfic#obey me x reader#obey me fic#obey me mc#obey me drabble#obey me mammon#obey me lucifer#obey me belphegor#obey me writing#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me x you#obey me imagines#obey me x gender neutral reader#obey me brothers
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*ŕšâĄŐ i, spy.
pairings. sylus, fem!reader tags. 1.5k wc, mild angst, suggestive ending, jealousy, petnames as usual (kitten, sweetie, baby doll), alcohol consumption, sylus being annoying lmao, loosely inspired by his immobilized memory
sylus can be very petty when he wants to be.
todayâs weather was beyond freezing, and the view of the icy mountains in the arctic region stood tall over the hotel grounds where the hunterâs association team-building event was taking place. you had spent the entire day engaged in activities with your team, enjoying every moment, and your laughter mingling with the cheerful atmosphere. it had been awhile since you last went on a snowboarding trip with the rest of your hunter friends, so this day brought about just the perfect quality time to boost camaraderie amongst your team.Â
unbeknownst to you, sylus, who had also chosen to stay at the same hotel, was watching from a distance. his red eyes, usually cold and calculating, were now burning with an intensity fueled by jealousy. you had been spending time with xavier, your interactions light and full of warmth, and sylus could barely contain his frustration as he saw how your colleague brought you hot chocolate and used his palms to warm your cheeks.
âtch.â sylus absently swirled his glass of whiskey, the ice making a faint clink as he observed you from the balcony of his room. âseems like a stray kitten has found a new companion.â
then, as the evening arrived, your group gathered for dinner and you were happily chatting with your team, completely unaware of the storm brewing behind the scenes (aka by a certain tall man with grayish hair and crimson eyes). the rest of your hunter friends eventually headed back to their own rooms after finishing their meals, while a couple others chose to spend more time at the hotel bar. your activity of choice for the night was also the latter, telling xavier that it was okay for him to head back to his room knowing how he had been fighting the drowsiness off for the last hour.Â
meanwhile, sylus soon made his entrance at the bar, accompanied by a striking woman whose presence was impossible to ignore. her outfit was dazzling, and she seemed to be following sylusâs every command like a pet.
impossible! you thought, eyes widening in panic as soon as you saw the onychinus leader. if your hunter friends found out that the n109 boss was here, this hotel would turn into a battlefield in a heartbeat. Â
yet sylus, completely unfazed, walked over to your area in the bar counter with the woman by his side. his smirk was barely concealed as he approached you. âi didnât expect to see you here, kitten,â he said, his voice smooth and dripping with subtle menace. âi brought a friend along.â
you looked up, your heart sinking as you took in the sight of sylusâs companion. she was effortlessly glamorous with her sleek blonde hair and exquisite fur jacket, her every movement seemingly calculated to draw attention. however, despite her overflowing gorgeous exterior, sylusâs gaze was fixed on you. and the asshole was watching your reaction with an almost predatory intensity.
âoh, sylus,â you said in an attempt to sound casual. âwhat a surprise.â
âoh, certainly, kitten. and by the way, this is elara,â sylus introduced, gesturing to the woman beside him. âsheâs been kind enough to accompany me this evening.â
elara gave you a warm smile that didnât quite reach her eyes. her partner, on the other hand, seemed to revel in the way her presence unsettled you as he took a seat next to her, deliberately placing her between the two of you. ânice to meet you!âÂ
âlikewise,â you replied, shaking her hand and forcing a smile.Â
âcare to join us, miss hunter?â sylus said with a smirk, his eyes glinting as he watched you hesitate. his arm was draped casually around elaraâs shoulders, and the sight made your stomach churn with a strange mix of envy and frustration. âelara and i are just about to get some drinks.â
âjoin us, please!â the woman next to him encouraged.
âuh, sure.â pressured by the situation, you gave a subtle nod, only to receive a gleam of satisfaction in sylusâs eyes.
this bastard! you didnât like how his hand was lingering on her arm in a way that was meant to be seen. each laugh they shared, each touch, seemed designed to push you further into a pit of jealousy. and the way stupid sylus kept glancing at you, gauging your reaction, only made the situation more unbearable. thatâs it, you silently snickered in your head, i should call him stupid sylus.Â
you forced yourself to focus on your blue raspberry cocktail, trying to ignore sylusâs stupid blabbering while rushing to finish your drink. his actions were a blatant attempt to make you feel inferior, and it was working. it was definitely working. but you couldnât lose your composure now despite him making sure to lavish attention on elara. every time he touched her back and her waist, you felt a pang of jealousy growing more and more intense by the second. it didnât help that sylusâs presence was also a constant reminder of the way he could manipulate your emotions, and it was driving you to the edge.
âso,â sylus tapped his fingers on the counter, his voice low and intentionally provocative, âhowâs your evening been, miss hunter?â
âfine,â you replied tersely, trying to mask the irritation and hurt simmering beneath the surface.
âjust fine?â sylus asked, his smirk widening. âi thought you were enjoying yourself today. seeing you with your colleague was quite⌠interesting.â
âif youâre referring to xavââ you paused, remembering that xavier had a bounty in his head at the n109 zone and it was best to keep him out of conversations with sylus, so you decided to change the topic, âdid you have mephisto report all my activities to you again?âÂ
him and his equally stupid bird. so annoying.Â
âthereâs no need for that, sweetie. you stick out like a sore thumb, so youâre not that difficult to spot.â he smiled as he talked, like he was having so much fun at mocking you. oh, heâs deliberately pushing my buttons! his actions were a cruel game meant to make you question your feelings and your place in his life.Â
before you could retort, elara suddenly tugged his sleeve, focusing all of his misrouted attention back to her. âhoney,â she spoke to him sweetly, âwhat drink do you recommend i should get next?âÂ
you rolled your eyes and turned away, the old man playing the piano now a much more interesting sight to look at compared to the two lovey-dovey couple next to you. but really, it was suffocating to be anywhere near sylus, and the only way to stop feeling all of these crazy emotions swirling inside of you was to not be around him.Â
and so with that, finally, after what felt like an eternity, you excused yourself. but the walk back to your room was quickly interrupted by the figure of a six foot two man, his towering height preventing you from taking another step without his permission. âwhere do you think youâre going, kitten?â he asked, noticing the sourness in your expression that you tried so hard to conceal.Â
âheading back,â you merely responded, trying to find an escape by pointing towards the opposite direction. âlook over there, isnât that luke and kieran?â
as soon as sylus turned his head, you made a swift beeline for the barâs exit. you even sighed of relief as you managed to free yourself from his presence, now making your way through the empty halls of the hotel. unfortunately for you, sylus wasnât one to let something like this go. so before you could even think of hiding and running away, he was already walking next to youâthe frown on his face growing more pronounced as he grabbed your wrist and dragged you to the nearby elevator.Â
âlet goâ!â you protested, wiggling your hands from his tight hold. âwhere âre you taking me?â
âmy suite,â he muttered, pressing the button to the top most floor. âsleep in my room tonight.âÂ
you let out a loud, sardonic chuckle. âsays who?âÂ
sylus, crossing his arms, looked at you with thin, furrowed brows. âyour only choice is to obey me, kitten.âÂ
an exasperated sigh escaped your lips. âisnât elara supposed to be with you?â you questioned, âyou should bring her to your room, not me!âÂ
it was too late. because no matter how much you struggled against his iron grip, you were later pushed inside his presidential suite, the grandiose of his room stupefying you. the smell of red roses and wine was a relaxing aroma that continued to pull you inside. yet, before you can take another step, sylus was already pulling you by the waist, leaning in to crash his lips onto yours.Â
at first you tried to push him off, but who were you kidding here? of course, youâd eventually melt into the kiss, allowing him to envelop his lips around yours, its soft and tender movements sending shivers down your spine. each kiss was a loud smooch echoing across the room.
âwere you jealous?â he asked in a low voice, biting your lower lip and pulling only slightly away. âi donât have that kind of relationship with elara. sheâs just a staff member of mine that i asked to make you jealous.âÂ
âokay, and?â you frowned at his handsome face, hating how easily he could get under your skin. literally and figuratively. âthe way you were still touching her wasâŚâÂ
âyour jealousy is showing, sweetie.â a smile of mischief crept up on sylusâs lips before he extended a hand to squeeze your ass. âand what about the way your male colleague doted on you all day, hm? had fun being treated like a princess by him?âÂ
âwhy do you care?â you asked, trying to sound indifferent despite the ticklish kisses he was trailing along your neck. âitâs none of your business who i talk to.â
âoh, it is my business, baby doll.â sylusâs smile faltered for a moment, but he quickly recovered, now unbuttoning his shirt and suggesting a very rough night ahead. âbecause i care about what i have. and right now, thatâs you.â
#love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace x you#lads x reader#lads x you#l&ds x reader#l&ds x you#sylus x reader#sylus x you#sylus angst#sylus fluff#sylus fic#lads sylus#lds sylus#sylus x mc
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GOT WHAT YOU WANTED
summary: you're rafe's best friendâkelce and top's too, but there's always been something more between the two of you. neither of you will do anything about it. clearly, the solution is to become friends with benefits.
now spinning: too many nights by metro & future
word count: 11.5k
warning/tags: kook trio reader, using jj to make rafe jealous, mentions of drugs/partying, jealous/possessive rafe and reader, smut !, rafe deals coke. tysm to @zyafics for betaâing & helping me so muchh & @inimamea for being so lovely and supportive. tysm to all the lovely anons who have been supporting and loving this concept from the start, i hope u all love this ⥠(but sorry in advance if u donât)
truth be told, you didnât like making rafe angry.Â
it wasnât fun for you, like other things wereâwatching your boys play golf while you lounged in the cart with the cold drinks, picking out a pretty outfit for the day, crashing on the couch at tannyhill with your head in rafeâs lap and feet over kelceâs legs.Â
those were fun things. what you were doing now, with jj, was something borne of necessity. youâre not a mean girl. you find it tough to be mean to anyone except rafe, actually, and only because he dishes it back and you know his feelings arenât really hurt, but right now you were being mean.
to jj that is.Â
you smile at the blond boy seated next to you, the golden glow of the bonfire casting its warmth onto both of you. you laugh at another joke he makes, but only half-hearted, taking another sip of the beer heâd gotten you from the keg.
jjâs funny, heâs sweet too. itâs not his fault you wish you were seated next to your best friend instead of him, drinking a strawberry seltzer from the case that rafe keeps in the back of his truck specially for you.Â
âso?â jj asks, and you turn from staring at your shoes to look up at him. heâs looking at you with a smile, a very charming smile that you could have a lot of fun with, except youâre starting to feel bad about toying with him like this.Â
âso?â you repeat back, softly. he leans in a little to hear you. you feel a little warm at the action, but it could just as easily be from the fire.Â
jjâs niceâand youâve always liked nice, preferred it to almost anything. every boy you had ever introduced to your trio had been nice, though rafe hadnât ever cared. heâd hated them from the moment heâd laid eyes on them. you wonder now when you let him seep into your mind like this, with every other thought about rafe rafe rafe. somewhere in between accepting jjâs invitation to come to the bonfire with him and getting jealous over the fact that rafe was seeing some random girl.
âyou didnât tell your other boy about this, didâya?â you look up at jj with eyebrows knitted, puzzled.
âother.. boy?â
âcameron.â now you really flushâyou certainly donât want jj to think rafe is your other anything.
âno, no. weâre not dating. weâre just friends.â
âright, okay. you tell him about tonight?â
âno. it didnât come up.â
âah. got it.â
âwhy?â you ask, and before you can look around, jj stares into the distance, gesturing with his eyes to a blurry figure.
ânothinâ. heâs just been starinâ at us since we sat down, so i figured, but-â you stand up, looking into the distance where rafe was. you can feel yourself turning green with envy, red with rage, watching him stand next to the same girl heâs been with, her looking at rafe while rafe looks at you.
you sit back down on the log, wrapping a hand around jjâs arm and pulling him down to sit beside you. from this angle, rafe canât make out anything but your backs, and maybe the lack of any real distance between you and jj.
âsorry,â you say, sweetly, almost having regained your wrath the second you saw the two of them standing together. âheâs crazy.â
âsâokay. not news to me, princess.â jj takes a pause, and you chew your cheek, trying to decide how far you were willing to take this. âyou okay?â
âyes. why wouldnât i be?â
âwell, uh, it doesnât take a genius. even though, yâknow, i am one, to know somethinâs up.â âno, jj, i promise, weâre ju-â âjust friends, yeah, i got it. i mean, i donât know what type of friends exactly, but uh, i like you. and iâll like you even if he has a problem with it. so up to you, really.â you glance up at jj, who is being nicer to you right now than you deserve.Â
and you hate it, hate every second of it. you hate how rafe makes you feel, how angry and jealous you get, the fact that you even started talking to jj when in the back of your mind you knew it was because rafe would get upset over it.
but you also hate what rafeâs doing, the girl heâs with and the way heâs with her, the fact that he brought her here and still wonât stop shooting daggers into jjâs head. in short, you hate all of it.Â
you lean in, resting your head against jjâs shoulder.Â
âiâm sorry. i donât know whatâs going on with him. but, heâs here with a girl.â
âand youâre here with me.â jj wraps an arm around you.Â
âyes, but not because-well, i donât know.â it feels stupid coming out, but if jj thinks that, he doesnât show any signs of it.
âsâokay. donât always have to know.â you keep your head on his shoulder, enjoying the warmth he brings. âby the way, heâs still watching.â you smile, though you canât tell which boy elicited it. âi mean, not gonna complain if i get to be your boy toy for a little but, nice to know you care-â you giggle, pulling away to put your drink on the sandy ground.
âyouâre telling me you donât want a sugar mama?â he laughs at your words and you relish in it.Â
it could be picture perfectâwaves crashing in the back, the fire flickering in front of you, stars sparkling above. jj keeps his hand on your cheek and leans in for a kiss, and you find yourself leaning too, when the voice of your best friend breaks the silence. you pull away from jj to look up at rafe standing behind you.
âhey. weâre goinâ. câmon.â
ârafe-â you start, but you get interrupted. jj stands, facing rafe.
âhey buddy, weâre a little busy. but uh, iâll make sure she gets home safe-â
âguys-â
âwasnât fuckinâ talkinâ to you, pogue-â
âtuck her into bed, and everything. donât worry your little head âbout it-â
âmâgonna knock your little head out if you donât get the fuck away from-â having heard enough, you drag rafe away by his arm, your pretty nails digging in harshly.
âwhat the fuck was that, rafe?â you ask, though you feel the bitterness coursing through your veins. howâs that fairâthat he parades his girlfriend around you, at the club and here at the bonfire, but you canât so much as spend a moment alone with jj.Â
whatever reservations you had just held about using jj to make rafe jealous seem to have gone far away. instead youâre just angryâhe wants his own girlfriend and he wants you without a boyfriend too. you turn to look back at the boy you left behind at the fire. jj gives you a thumbs up.
âhow many times do i have to fuckinâ tell you to-to stay away from that pogue-â
âhe has a name,â you counter, so defensive because jj was being nice to you even when he didnât have to be, helping you even with no gain for himself. âand you canât order me around, okay? you brought a girl here but i canât talk to jayj? how does that make any sense?â
âstop yellinâ,â he barks, grabbing you by the arm now, and guiding you away.
âwhy? afraid someone might hear us? like your little girlfriend? whereâd she go, by the way, i bet sheâs missing you right about now-â
âshut up. shut it.â you donât realize how far rafeâs dragged you until you shake out of his tight grip, standing next to his truck on the street.
âiâm sick of this rafe.â it comes out quieter than you intend, tears prickling up. you hate crying, especially infront of the boys but even more so infront of rafe. âiâm not stopping my life and boys that i wanna see, and relationships i want to have because youâre not okay with it. not when you have your own girlfriend. itâs not fair.âÂ
âi donât. i donât have a girlfriend.â you roll your eyes, he watches it happen with a tight fist, jaw clenching.
âyes, you do.â
âno, i donât.â
âyou donât?â you question, unbelieving. âyou just.. walk around with the same girl for weeks. take her everywhere. but sheâs not your girlfriend?â youâre snarky like alwaysâyou still donât know if he likes it or not.
âno, sheâs not.âÂ
âbullshit. at least get your fucking story straight, rafe. that girlâs probably half in love with you-â âmânot dating her. and if it bothered you so much how come you didnât say something, huh? you pull this shit with fuckinâ maybank instead?â
âiâm not pulling anything with jj.â you lie through your teeth, hoping rafe bites. âi-i like him.â
âno you fuckinâ donât.â
âwho are you to tell me-â
âyou donât like him. what you like is makinâ me fuckinâ angry. well, it worked. stay the fuck away from him. and get in the goddamn truck.â
you groan loudly, the noise almost a scream and filling the quiet street. but you comply, getting into the passenger seat and letting rafe drive you homeâto your house, not tannyhill like every other night. when he pulls up to your house, you resist the urge to get out without saying anything at all.
âiâll see you tomorrow, kid.â you sigh, looking back up at rafe.
âthatâs it? youâll see me tomorrow?â
âwhat else do you want me to say, huh?â
âare you just gonna ignore all of that? what the hell was that?â
âmânot ignoring anything-â
âso, i canât see jj anymore. are you still seeing her? who am i allowed to date then? kelce? top? do you have a pre-approved list for me?â
âshut up.â
ârafe,â you sound serious, as serious as heâs ever heard you, shifting in your seat to look right at him. he looks back, his knuckles white on the steering wheel at the mention of you dating kelce or top or anyone. âiâm not gonna stay single forever. i know your alpha-male tendencies donât agree with it, but girls have needs too. i want-â
âwhat? what do you want?â
âthe possibility of getting laid without you screaming at every boy i talk to would be nice.â
âdonât talk like that.â
ârafe.âÂ
exasperated, you unlock the door and climb out, not turning back to say goodnight. the last twelve hours seem like a blur, between texting jj and actually seeing him and rafeâs reaction to it. youâre not sure what kind of reaction you really wanted out of him, but youâre not happy with the one you got. you donât know what, if anything, would have pleased you.Â
that night, you go to bed angry and wake up sad. jj texted you something but you canât find the heart to look at his message yet.Â
youâre sure the boys have something planned for today, like they always do, but the idea of opening the groupchat to look at what they decided on makes you feel sick. so you stay home instead, showering off yesterdayâs anger and wondering why rafe thinks you donât deserve to have a boy in your life to fool around with, to date, to do anything with.Â
the answer, sharp and painful like the jagged end of a piece of glass, hovers in your mind. you try to push it away.
rafeâs wrongâlike always. you really donât like making him angry, like it even less that your routine is disrupted and that for the first time in a long time, you donât want to see your best friends today. brushing your hair, the sound of your bedroom door opening snaps you out of your thoughts.
âcâmon kid. get dressed. topâs got tee time at two and we booked lunch before.â you turn to look at rafe but donât budge. he takes a look at youâdressed in one of his old frat shirts and plaid shorts that barely peak out.Â
you look pretty all the time but it feels the worst, the hardest to deal with, when itâs just the two of you alone like this, none of the shit that you do for other people, for outside the houseâthe makeup, the hair, the nice clothes. when youâre pretty like this itâs just for him, since no one else gets to see you, no one but him. you probably didnât even notice you were wearing one of his shirtsâsomething that leaves him feeling more pleased than he should be. but like always, heâs not gonna tell you any of that.
âare you adding deaf to stupid?â he asks, and you roll your eyes, letting out an irritated huff.
âiâm not coming. go away.â you turn around on your vanity chair to face your mirror, continuing brushing your hair. rafe walks up behind you, staring at you in the mirror.
âcâmon. lunch is at the place you like. iâll even talk to you when kelce and top are up.â
âis that your way of apologizing?â
âitâs not an apology.â
âof course itâs not. why would you say sorry? you probably donât think you did anything wrong.â
âi didnât.â
âmm-hm. when does rafe cameron ever do anything wrong?â you keep brushing your hair, staring at yourself in the mirror instead of at him. âpsycho.â
rafe yanks the brush from your hand, spinning your chair around to face him. he boxes you in, his hands resting on the armrests. heâs too close to you, it makes his head spin. you wish heâd stop, you know heâs not going to. you watch with bated breath, wondering whatâs coming next.
âi⌠didnât mean to make you upset.â you keep staring up at rafe, blinking fast. âand i didnât see it from your side. so, mâsorry. about that part. nothinâ else.â you canât help the slow smile that grows on your faceârafe, apologizing, and to you of all people. you thought youâd never see the day.
âthanks rafe.â
âalright. get ready. truckâs still runninâ.â he pulls himself upright, freeing you of the restraint. you can hear the bass of the music in his car, the future song audible from your open window.Â
âthatâs bad for the environment. and i didnât say i forgave you.â snatching the hairbrush back, you resume your motions. you hear rafe groan and itâs hard to hold back the smile. maybe you did like making him angry.
âkid.âÂ
âwhat? i heard your apology, and i donât accept it. hope you girls have fun at golf-â rafe leans back in, holding your jaw shut between his fingers.
âdo you ever shut up?â you shake your head from your position, though you canât really move. âwhatâs it gonna take, huh? you want my permission to fuck âround? sleep with some, some fuckinâ nobody? some pogue? tough shit. youâre not gettinâ it.â he lets you go, and you rub your jaw tenderly.
âbut you get to do it?âÂ
âthatâs different-â
âno itâs not! youâre just a dick. and sexist. who am i supposed to sleep with, then?â you shoot back.
âi donât fuckinâ know, kid. me, i guess. at this point-â
âha-ha funny. youâre an-â when you finally get up and look at him, heâs staring at you. âwhat?â
âyeah. thatâs fine.â he shrugs, like heâs just decided something trivial, like what to order at lunch or which iron to use. âyou can sleep with me.â
âexcuse me?â
âyeah. yeah, itâs a good solution. that way you can stay the fuck away from maybank and any other asshole.â
ârafe. shut up.â
âthink about it,â he says, and you fall silent to listen, though this is the worst idea youâve ever heard in your life. âyou get what you want. i get what i want. it works out.â
âhow is being your pity-fuck remotely close to what i want?â
âsheesh, kid mâtryna help you right now. offerinâ you a solution-â
ârafe?â âyeah?â
âget out.â you walk over the door, swining it open and waiting for him to step out.
âjust think âbout it,â rafe says, standing by the door but not leaving just yet. âalright?â
âgoodbye, rafe.âÂ
you listen to the soundsâhim walking down the staircase, the front door closing, his truck taking off. after youâre sure heâs gone, you let out a breath you didnât realize youâd been holding inside.
sleeping with rafe had been nothing more than a drunken thought that occasionally slipped into your mind when heâd be nice to you after some party. curling up next to him at tannyhill every other night certainly didnât help, but thatâs all it wasâa thought, not reality.Â
then you wonder if itâs really such a bad idea. maybe if you just got out all of this pent up energy with rafe, and then worked on finding someone he actually approved of, it would be easier for both of you.Â
key word: maybe.
the idea that heâs still seeing that girl, the one he keeps denying is his girlfriend, makes you want to puke. heâd have to stop that, that would be part of your agreement.Â
maybe rafeâs right, maybe you both get what you want out of this, as messed up as it seems. it canât be the worst idea in the worldâkelce and top always joke the two of you are half a couple already.
you go to your closet to pick out an outfit for golf, hoping you werenât about to ruin your friendship with your best friend.
.âď¸ ÝË
rafeâs leaning against the bar at the club when you find him. you think heâs got a weird sixth sense, he always knows when youâre around, and he looks up before youâre even near him.Â
âi knew you wouldnât pass on lunch. top owes me five bucks.â
âyeah. sure.â you put a hand on the counter to steady yourselfâthis is harder than you thought it would be. rafe takes a sip of his drink. you want to chastise him, tell him itâs only twelve-thirty and too early for drinking, but nothing comes out. your mouth feels dry and you almost want to chug the rest of his scotch. surprisingly, you refrain.
âwhat?â rafe asks, and you glance up at him, eyes locked.
âi thought about what you said this morning. what you offered.â
âand?â the bastard looks so smug. you should the slap the smirk off his face but you know what heâs thinkingâproud of coming up with the idea himself, thinking heâs doing such a service.
âand.. better the devil you know and all that.â you wait for the other shoe to drop for a moment, for rafe to admit it was all a big prank and you fell for it, and now the boys owe him money or something.
âgood. i agree. so should we get outta here, or what?â
âright now?â you question, eyes widening. âwhat about tee time?â
âyouâre the only whoâs so horny youâre on the verge of jumping pogues. mâjust tryna help you-â
âshut up!âyour face heats, looking around to make sure no one heard him. âby the way, between the two of us youâre the only one jumping pogues.â
âyeah, yeah. so not now, then?â
âa gentlemen as always, rafe. no, really, thank you, for showing me chivalryâs not dead.â you roll your eyes again, staring ahead at the bottles behind the bar. you donât want to turn and look at rafe again, but you do.
âat this rate mâgonna have to show you what friends with benefits means too.â
âshut up.â it comes out like a hiss this time, narrowed eyes focusing in on your best friend and apparently, new fuck buddy.
âyeah, yeah. theyâre at the table near the window.âÂ
âthanks.â you walk in that direction, catching a glimpse of top and kelce, but your feet pause for a moment. you stay still, but glance back at rafe.
heâs not leaning against the bar anymoreâheâs facing you, staring at you. blue eyes rake over your skin top to bottom, focusing on the pretty sandals and polished white toes, smooth lotioned skin, your short white skirt and tight golf shirt, with one too many buttons popped.Â
when youâre talking without ever shutting up, itâs hard for him to focus on anything but your glossy lips or long eyelashes fluttering when you roll your eyes. but now heâs taking it inâhow easily you agreed to this little idea, how you talk a big game but you donât seem as hesitant or upset as you were this morning.Â
you turn back and keep walking towards the tableârafe can tell youâre flushed. heâs fine with it, prefers it this way. anythingâs better than you going on dates with strangers, showing them looks and emotions and other things that belong to him.
if youâre horny, all you had to do was tell him. downing the rest of his drink, he goes back to the table and like always, sits next to you.Â
kelce and top talk about the same old shit, until they focus their attention on you. youâre being quiet, not nearly as talkative or snippy as usual, and you havenât said a word to rafe the whole time.
âand whereâd you two go off to last night?â kelce asks, pointedly looking at rafe while he asks you the question.
âyou guys know you left us stranded, right? we all came together. i mean iâm not saying self-absorbed but-â topper adds, but you cut him off.
âyouâre really not one to talk about self-absorbed, are you top?â you shoot back, and kelce chokes on his water.Â
âeasy,â rafe says, and normally youâd fire away something at him too, but this time you donât. âwe had somethinâ to take care of. but you got home didnât you?â
âyes, but-â topper says, but rafe cuts him off again. you hold back a laugh.
âthen shut up âbout it.â
âkelceâs mom had to pick us up. it was humiliating.â you snort into your lemonade, all four of you bursting into laughter. you turn to ask kelce a follow up question, and rafeâs staring at you while you laugh. something low in your stomach twists, like a butterfly trying to fly out and away.
when kelce and rafe start talking about the course today, topper leans in to say something to you.
âyouâre getting mean. yâknow that means youâre spending too much time with him.â you transfer your gaze from top to rafe, staring at the boy next to you.Â
the idea of what you would normally say floats through your headâsomething funny and earnest but still making top feel better, not saying sorry but making him laugh instead. nothing comes to mind.
âyeah. i guess i am.â
you sit through golf, reading your book in the cart while the boys play nine holes. your phone rings with a call from your parents about an hour in, and when you step away to take it, rafe follows you. the boys protest from the distanceâit must have been his turn.
âyou goinâ home?â rafe questions, and you jolt at the sound, not realizing he was right behind you.
âgod. you scared me.â he doesnât say anything, just keeps staring down at you. âyes, uh, mom wants me home for something.â
âyou need a ride?â
âno, i drove here, remember?âÂ
âoh. yeah. am i gonna see you tonight?â the words make you flushâstupidly, no matter how hard you try to fight it, knowing that they shouldnât. the two of you are going to be terrible at this. âkid?â
âcareful, rafe. youâre starting to sound like a boyfriend.â âyeah. and we wouldnât want that, now would we?âÂ
sucking in a breath, tearing your gaze away with pretty blue eyes that are looking at you like maybe that wouldnât be the worst idea in the world, youâre at a loss for words again. before all of this drama, you could count the amount of times you had been rendered speechless by rafe with no handsâsince it had never happened. still with nothing to say, you turn around and start to walk away. foot steps follow you.
âhey, hey. mâjoking, itâs just.. a joke. how about i come over later? and weâll talk about it.â you spin on your heels to face him.
âtalk about it? talk about what?â
âour.. arrangement. yâknow talk about it..â he tilts his head stupidly and you canât decide if you want to slap him or kiss him. â..fuck about it.â
âokay! thatâs it. bye, rafe.â storming away, you almost wish you hadnât heard what he called out after you.
âbye, kid. iâll see you later.â
.âď¸ ÝË
at ten pm that night, freshly showered and somehow in another one of rafeâs shirts, you were back to where you were this morningâbrushing your hair. rafe doesnât knock on your door, just barges in.
âoh my god-â
âhello to you too.â he steps in, shutting the door behind him and taking a seat on your bed. you spin on your chair to face him.
âhow the hell do you keep getting in here?â
âwhat? your mom let me in.â
âyou didnât even text-â
âi told you at the club. you have selective memory, kid.â he looks you over again. ânice shirt.â
âoh shut up.â you turn away for a moment, setting the hairbrush down, biting your cheek. âso?â
âso?â he repeats. heâs smiling, you can just tell.
âarenât we gonna talk about our arrangement? thatâs what you told me at the club-â you finish in a mocking voice.
âwhat else is there to talk about? you wanna get laid, i donât wanna see you with random guys.â
âi still donât understand whatâs wrong with the guys that i-â rafe cuts you off, and he sounds angry.
âof course you donât understand. you donât haveât think about this shit, because i think about it for you. whatâd you gonna do when some guy starts sleepinâ with you âcause me and top pissed him off once? or one of those pogues, huh? to get back at us? take some video of you and send it to everyone? brag and show it off to everyone?â
âoh.â
âexactly. so mâlookinâ out for you. this is better, trust me.â the thing rafeâs saying are making sense. you were on board anyways, but you feel better that thereâs a real reason behind it.
âbut what about that girl-â you ask, though you donât know what kind of answer youâre expecting. rafe sighs.
âwhat about that girl?â
âare-are you gonna sleep with other people too?â
âno. mâtoo busy anyways. works out for both of us.â
âoh. okay. promise?â
âwhen have i ever lied to you?â you sigh, about to protest, when he finishes his sentence. âpromise.â you feel strangely reassured, like this is a good idea.
âokay. thanks.â you dodge his gaze, playing with your manicured nails, pink this time.
âalright. get on the bed.â
ârafe-â
âwhat? i just said-â
âyouâre not even gonna, like, take me out for dinner first?â
âwho the hell dâyou think paid for your lunch?â
âi donât know.. kelce? he got lunch last week. should i go sleep with him next?â
âha-ha. get on the bed.â
âugh. youâre so crass. i donât even know how you get any girls-â
âyeah, yeah. are you gonna shut up now or what?â
you canât think of anything to say, so you finally follow his instructions, crawling into your bed and sitting up against your pillows to look at rafe.Â
youâve see him naked before. heâs seen you naked before. with all the time you spent together on the druthers or at the beach, you should be used to seeing him like this. he yanks off his shirt, pulling it off with a fist in the back over his head.Â
the first sign that this idea wasnât going to go as planned should have been nowâfeeling your breath catch in your throat at the sight in front of you. your best friend shirtless, getting closer to your bed. your eyes rake over tan, muscled skin and the silver chain glimmering around his neck. you donât realize you moved, body sliding down and back flat against your mattress while rafe starts to lean across the bed, his hand planted next to your head.
rafeâs hovering over you. your breathing shakes for a moment, wondering if it would be this easy for him to do this with any other girl. you dismiss the thought when rafe leans in to kiss you, but it almost seems too wrong to let it happen.
âwait-â you move your head a little so your lips are away from rafeâs. âare you sure? you donât think itâs gonna be weird?â
âstop bugging out, kid.â he says it low and quiet, and your entire body quivers from the sound.
âanswer the question, asshole.â rafe laughs, his hot breath fanning across your cheek. you canât help it, you laugh too, turning to look at him. you think heâll be grinning like somethingâs funny, but your smile dies the second you lock eyes.
heâs not smiling, he looks as serious as youâve ever seen him. he licks his lips, moving his eyes over your body, his shirt and your bare legs.
âyou wearinâ anything under this?âÂ
he moves one of his hands from your knee to your thigh, stroking the soft skin. you curl your leg automatically, head lifting to watch his hands and your entire body trembling under his touchâitâs hot and electric, making your heart beat faster and the hairs on your arm stand up. he looks up from your legs to your face, watches you shake your head to answer no.Â
âgood girl.âÂ
your head falls back onto the pillow when the words leave his mouth. a chuckle leaves his mouth, but still heâs not smiling, itâs more just a noise of pleasure than anything else. rafe sits up between your legs, hands grabbing onto both of your legs and stroking again. he makes his way all the way to your hips, fingers dancing over the waistband of your panties.Â
you think heâll stop, maybe at least answer your earlier question, though you canât remember what you had even asked him. he doesnât, fingers swiftly hooking around the fabric and pulling them down your legs. you suck in another breath, angling your foot so they fall onto the bed while you keep your eyes locked on him.
âyâready?â he asks, and you nod, though youâre not sure what youâre agreeing to. his hands go back to your thighs, pushing his t-shirt up to expose more skin. you tense up, but he keeps a palm on your knee. ârelax.â
before you can anticipate anything else, he strokes your pussy, which is shamefully wet already, with two fingers, prodding the sensitive skin and gathering wetness. he does that laugh again, like he canât believe what heâs looking at, and you try to shut your trembling thighs in embarassment, but rafe holds them open.
ârafe-â but before you can finish your sentence, two thick fingers plunge inside you, âoh my godâ!âÂ
âhah. good.â when he pushes his fingers out, just to slam them back in, your eyes roll all the way back, another loud moan emitting from your mouth, sounds heâs thought about a hundred times before but still canât compare to the real thing. but of course, you donât need to know any of that. âdonât get too loud. yâfolks are downstairs, remember?â
you donât seem to remember. when he picks up the pace, really just wanting to test you and see how much you could take, you start moaning even louder, sweet breathy sounds filling the room. theyâre just for him, and normally heâd want you screaming, but he canât arouse too much suspicious, or your parents wonât ever let him back in the house. his other hand, the one holding your legs open, moves to your mouth, clamping his palm over your lips to keep your noises quiet.
you must like it, you clench around his fingers and your walls flutter when he locks eyes with you, almost hunched over you to keep you quiet while still fucking his fingersânow three, though he didnât realize when heâd added anotherâinto you.Â
rafeâs hard, and he canât remember the last time he was patient enough to wait to get his dick wet, but he likes you like this, not just shutting up for once, but eyes shut and face twisted with pleasure, whimpering into his hand, legs shaking in his grip while youâre wet around his fingers.Â
ârafe-â you mumble, the sound all muffled. âmâgonna, ohh-â he picks up the pace, shushing you while battering into your pussy, listening to the gasps and whimpers through his palm while you cum all over his hand.Â
limbs like jelly and throat dry, you lay there, catching your breath. your skinâs hot and flushed, and you stare at rafe while he stares at you.
âwhat?â you question, and it comes out quiet, soft, like youâve done something you shouldnât have. heâs thinking a couple of things, some of which have no business being in his head at all. do you always get this wet? who else has seen you like this? whoâs gonna get to hear you moan the way you just did for him some day?
ânothinâ.âÂ
âoh. okay.â you sit up against your headboard, pulling yourâhisâshirt down to cover up a little. âwell, thank you.â
âyeah. no problem.â for a second he hestiatesâbriefly concerned you want him to leave now. âwell? come on.â youâre trying to sound like you always do, a little irritated at him, a little snarky. he can see through it this time.
âwhat?âÂ
âget the condom. youâre the one who said weâre doing it today.â rafe watches for a second, wondering if he should laugh or yell at you, when you pull off his shirt. he stares at you, not moving, wondering why he thought this would be a good idea.Â
heâs seen you naked before, changing in the same room or when you two lost all boundaries and started walking into bathrooms while the otherâs showering, but this seems different. propped against your headboard naked, with your cum on his fingers, asking him to get a condom. now that heâs seen you like this, he has a new life mission of making sure no one else ever gets to.Â
âgod, youâre such a boy.â
âshut up.âÂ
âyou shut up. you talked such a big game and now youâre just staring at my boobs-â he moves quickly, fingers on your jaw, actually shutting you up.
âlie down.â biting your lip, you comply, sliding down so rafe was on top of you. âspread your legs.â you move to do so, but rafe uses his hands on your thighs to pull them apart before you can. you canât look at his face, it almost feels too weird, so you decide to stare at his dick instead, watching him roll the condom on with a puzzled face.
âwhat?â heâs been looking at your face the whole time.
ânothing. if i had known you were this big i wouldâve asked a while ago-â rafe starts laughing, a real one this time, and you burst into giggles too.
âstop-â and he gets closer to you, lining himself up with your wet cunt, â-making me laugh. shut up.â
âyouâve said shut up like thirty times but you wonât stop talking eithe-oh!â he pushes in all at once, and all the breath leaves your lungs. you gasp instead, toes curling, feeling incredibly full, the disbelief that youâre full of rafe quickly fading away.Â
you should have known heâd be good at this, good enough to actually get you to shut up. he starts a slow pace, thrusting in and out and you look up to see your best friendâs face contorted with pleasure, heavy breaths in your ears and the scent of his cologne overwhelming everything. his chain dangles on your neck, tickling you, and you try to permanently engrain the feeling into your memory.
you attempt to stay quiet, though the slam of the headboard against the wall is a dead giveaway. rafe pushes all the way out and then all the way back in with another slam, and thereâs nothing you can do but take it, clamping your hand over your mouth now.
he manhandles your legs into place, pressing them to your chest while he continues the exhausting pace. you canât discern anything but rafeâs quiet groans and heavy breaths. youâve just cum but it doesnât take long for that hot feeling to wind up again in your stomach, toes curling and eyes getting watery. your moans are still muffled, but the way rafeâs looking at you is only making them get louder.Â
your bottom lip must be bleeding from the way your teeth have been abusing it. rafe moves your hand out of the way and leans in for a hot kiss, his tongue in your mouth and swallowing all of your noises.
with a final oh god, oh god, oh god, moaned into rafeâs mouth, you cum hard around his dick, eyes pressing shut and stray tears falling down, rafeâs lips not leaving yours.Â
you donât know whyâbut you wrap your arms around his neck, keeping the kiss going. rafe pulls away for a moment to breathe and you open your eyes, staring up at him through wet lashes, licking your swollen lips, while he looks back down at you.
he leans in for a final kiss, groaning into your mouth while he spills into the condom, still thrusting in and out of your sore pussy.Â
rafe rolls off of you, resting on your sheets beside you. you try to catch your breath.
âyou didnât last very long.âÂ
âand how long did it take ya to cum all over my fingers?â
âoh, whatever. whereâs my shirt?â
âitâs my shirt,â rafe says back, finding the discarded clothing on the ground and tossing it on your chest. you sit up, sliding his shirt back on. rafeâs standing, pulling on his shorts.
âare you leaving?â you ask, and you regret it the second it comes out, quiet and soft like you want him to stay.Â
you do want him to stay, but you donât want him to know that you do. it all feels very complicated and your thighs are aching, your throat dry.Â
âno.â he sits back down next to you, swinging an arm over your shoulder like he always does. you lean into his chest.Â
âyou kissed me,â you say quietly. youâre glad your face is pressed into his side, you donât think you could handle looking at his face right now. âand you were quiet. i didnât expect that.â
âyour parents are downstairs, remember?â
âoh. i forgot.â you realize after that you donât want him to know he fucked you so hard you forgot where you were and who was home.
âis kissing off limits?â rafe asks, and you almost choke processing the sentence. things you never thought rafe would say to you.â
âno.. it was nice.â you pause, listening to the silence of the room and the thud of rafeâs chest in your ear. youâre no expertâthough you fear youâre about to become oneâbut it seems faster than normal. âyou want ice cream? or cookies? i made some yesterday.â
âno, kid. itâs fine.â you chew your cheek nervously. you want rafe to want to stay, not just because you asked.
âyou can go.. if you need to.â you look up at him and then look back down when he meets your eyes.Â
âwhy? got nowhere else to be.â
âoh. okay.â
âturn the tv on. weâll watch your stupid movieâ
âreally?â your face lights up, grabbing the remote on your nightstand. you open up the blanket at the foot of the bed, covering both of you while you try to find youâve got mail. you go back to your position and lean against rafeâs warm body, and he presses a kiss to your forehead. itâs not unusual, heâs done it before, but you donât miss the fact that heâs decided to do it now. you try to push away the warm feeling blooming in your chest.
âdonât ever make a joke about sleeping with kelce or top again.â
.âď¸ ÝË
your tired muscles wake up to the sun pouring into your bedroom. the light shines on rafeâs still-asleep figure, but you knew it wouldnât wake him up, nothing ever does. you donât remember falling asleep, barely remember anything after rafe showing up.
and the part where you slept with your best friend.
a guilt-trip dangles on the edge, about to take over, when you push it away and focus on the text messages on your phone instead.
top: rafe canât believe u bailed on cod. u better be dead in a ditch somewhere
kelce: maybe princess finally killed him
top: stop hanging out without us
kelce: top lets just pull up next time
you laugh, and rafe stirs at the sound. you give his arm a shove.
âyou ditched playing video games for me? iâm so flattered, rafey.âÂ
âshut up.â he grumbles. âgo back to bed. sâtoo early for this shit.â
âitâs nine in the morning. and i have pilates in an hour.â
rafe turns over, and you canât deny itâs nice to have him in your bed for onceâit seems like youâre always sleeping at tannyhill.
âdidnât get enough exercise last night? you need more?â
you fake a yawn, covering your mouth.
âexercise? what exercise? i donât remember that. you mean the boring sex?â
rafe sits up, facing you. you choke back a laugh.
âyou wanna say that again?â
âuhh-â
âin fact, why donât you try and get up? ten bucks says you canât even walk to the door.â
âi canât believe the two of us even fit on this bed with your gigantic ego-â
âdonât see you walking. mâwaiting.â you toss one of your throw pillows at him.
âget out!â
âalright. iâll say good morning to your parents on my way-â
âokay! wait, stay.â
âsâwhat i thought.â
âsome way to say good morning,â you mumble, scrolling through your other messagesâa text from your other friends about a party tomorrow and a reminder for your pilates class.
âyou woke me up.âÂ
âoh whatever. i was just surprised you skipped a video game for this. but i guess most boys would.â
âthereâs not much i wouldnât skip for you.â you smile at rafe, misunderstanding him.
âthatâs so nice. are you saying iâm a great lay?â he rolls his eyes.
âiâm trying to- shut up. whatâd they say?â he picks up his phone.Â
about twenty minutes later, after checking the hallway (and that too on wobbly legs, just like the smug idiot had predicted) rafe leaves. like always, he says heâll see you later.
you fall on your bed and dwell on the fact that rafe kissed you last night. itâs hard to focus on anything else, and with every passing second, you think this whole thing was a worse and worse idea.
but he doesnât seem to think that way. he seemed fine. heâs better at the no-strings-attached thing than you, and you donât think he would have suggested it if he didnât think you could handle it.Â
with that thought lingering, you get dressed for pilates and hope itâs easier to walk before you see the boys again. you find out that itâs really not.Â
after your class, you check your phone, finding messages from top and kelce. game night and pizza at kelceâs house. youâre invited, of course, but you shoot them a message saying youâre staying home with your parents instead.Â
the second you press send, rafeâs contact photo lights up your screen.
ârafe?â you answer it without even waiting.
âwhat, not cominâ tonight? you always come.â
âoh, um-â you pace around your room, trying to think of a lie on your feet. âmom and dad wanted to stay in. you know. game night.â the words feel stupid, though you hope heâll believe it.
âokay. you gonna swing âround after?â
âno, probably not. um, iâll see you tomorrow?â
âyeah, tomorrow. have fun, kid.â
âyou too. tell them i say hi.â
the rest of your day flies by and itâs not long before youâre curling up in bed with a tub of ice cream. your parents went out to dinner with some friends, while you contemplated what the hell you were doing with your own friends.
you four always had a standing date on saturday mornings in the summerâsnacks and a spin on the boat. if you donât go, itâs going to be incredibly obvious something was going on with you.Â
you call topper while you pack your boat bagâgrabbing the necessities the boys always completely forget about; spray sunscreen, an extra baseball cap, a book for you when you inevitably get bored of listening to them talk.
âwhatâs up?â top says, and youâve made your way into the kitchen, pulling out fruit to wash and cut.
âwhat time are we going on the boat? and iâm bringing strawberries and mangoes, is that fine?â topper is the pickiest when it comes to the fruitâkelce and rafe will eat whatever you bring.
âuh, i think noon. call rafe, weâre taking the druthers today.â crap. thatâs what you were trying to avoid. it feels crazy the second you think itâtrying to avoid rafe. you need to get it together. acting like some love sick girl over your best friend feels like the stupidest thing youâve ever tried to do. he must bring it out in you. âdo you have any of those oranges? the little ones?â
âiâll bring âem. listen, i need to get ready, do you know the time? iâll just meet you there.â your self-realization is going to have to wait for another day.
ânoon, yeah. iâll text it.â
âthanks top.âÂ
you start an internal monologue on repeatâstop being weird about it. heâs still your best friend. be normal. he is not your boyfriend. you repeat it, but still pick out the prettiest bikini you own, yellow gingham and held together entirely by straps youâve tied into pretty bows. you throw on one of the boysâ button-ups thatâs ended up in your closet somehow on top.Â
walking onto the pier, you hesitate in front of the druthers. you donât hear any of the boys, and though nothingâs stopped you from getting on and making yourself comfortable, you wait for a second.
itâs like he knows. rafe steps out from the bridge, and takes one look at you, eyes flicking up and down your body and taking in the yellow fabric thatâs barely covering anything, before offering you his hand to get on.Â
âhey.â
âhey.â you look around. ânice weather.â
âyeah.â
âkelce and top running late? he told me noon.â
âthose two are always late.â heâs staring at you, and this time it becomes clear, that heâs looking at you the way a boy who has been inside of you looks at you.
âi packed mangoes. you liked them last time.â
âyeah, i did.â
âi just hope theyâre sweet.â
âyeah. they probably are. sweet.â rafe keeps looking, and you turn around to set your bag down. âlisten, kid-â
âitâs a great day. good weather.âÂ
âyou already said that.â
âoh.â
âwould you stop and look at me?â
âno, um,â you start, emptying out your bag onto one of the seats. âsorry, iâm busy.â you feel rafe grab your shoulder, turning you around. heâs not as rough as he could be, like he usually is.
âyou okay?â he asks, and you feel stupid.
âiâm fine.. are you okay?â
âyeah. but youâre actinâ weird.â
âwell yeah, rafe. we slept together. itâs weird.â
âyou were on board-â
âi was. i am,â you clarify. surprising even to yourself, you think you still are. âdoesnât make it not weird. imagine if you and kelce slept together. wouldnât it be weird?â rafeâs face twists into a mixture of disgust and concern. âokay. bad example. sorry.â
âyeah. mâjust saying, i wanna make sure youâre okay. but i donât regret it if thatâs what youâre afraid of. and nothinâ has to change.â hearing him say it makes you feel better. you repeat the words, tasting the feel of it on your tongue.
âright. nothingâs changed. youâre still rafe. iâm still me.â
âit doesnât have to happen again, if you donât want it to.â you stare up at him with crossed arms.
âwhy are you being so nice about it?â
âjeez, kid. what, you-you want me to be a dick âbout it? sounds like youâd prefer that.â
âno, just. itâs weird when youâre nice.â you look at him for a second before the two of you start laughing. âyâknow what i mean.â
âalright. iâll stop being nice.â
âthank you. now where are these two? i wanna read my book.â
âprobably still sleepinâ. played until-â rafe keeps talking, but you realize youâre only half paying attention. he takes his shirt off, and at the very sight of his chain sparkling in the sun, you realize youâre no better than the girls who chase after him. âwhat?â
âhm?â a little dazed, you look up from his abs to his face.
âyouâre starinâ.â
âoh. you think we have enough time before they show up?â
âtime for what?â rafe stares at you while you stare at him. âoh.â
turns out he thought you did have enough time. you end up with your cheek pressed against the tan sofa in the cabin, body folded with your head down and ass up. rafeâs slamming into you from behind, and though itâs only the second time with him, you think thereâs no pleasure in the world comparable.
from this angle he feels even bigger than yesterday. you feel tighter, or maybe itâs just the way your cunt is sucking him in, he thinks, thrusting in and out with his hands grabbing the fat of your ass, watching it bounce with every one of his motions. he has an urge to untie your bikini top, just so he can look at the expanse of the bare skin of your back, but he knows youâll fuss if he does. he settles for shoving the thin yellow fabric of your bottoms to the side, yanking it so hard that youâre scared itâll rip.
âbeâohâcareful,â you get out in between moans, louder than the first time and louder still than he thought youâd be. he likes it more than he should. you already came once, but he wants to see if he can get another out of you.
âshut up,â rafe groans, eyes fixated on your perky ass, the one heâs stared at in hundreds of short dresses and tiny skirts, bikinis that he shouldnât let you wear and panties he gets an eyeful of when youâre asleep in his bed. âjusâ take it-â
you keep moaning against the couch, head shoved in to muffle what you can, but itâs when you look back at him, turning your head to watch rafe slam into you with wet, lustful eyes, tired from how hard he had just made you cum, that he really canât take it, finishing hard and fast while you let out pretty mewls that are still ringing in his ear.Â
he pulls out, adjusting your bikini bottoms to cover you up, though thereâs visible wetness staining them. your inner thighs are shiny where your juices glisten. rafe has to tear his eyes away, you keep your legs clamped shut.
âyou okay?â he asks, trying to catch his breath. you donât speak, just nod. âcâmon.â rafe offers you a hand, again, and you accept, following him outside and into the sun, even though youâre so tired you could fall asleep where you were.
âthanks.â you say, wiping your neck of the sweat that has collected there. he watches you do it. âsorry, i donât have a tip or anything. how about some fruit instead? call it even?â âshut up, kid. mânot a hooker, you fuckinâ weirdo.â
âno, of course not,â you gasp, like youâd never suggest such a thing. âthe correct term is escort, rafe. itâs all very american gigolo.â
âyou watch too many movies.â but you still hear him laugh when the two of you step onto the deck.Â
âwhatâs so funny?â you hear topâs voice, freezing up. you catch rafeâs eye, before looking away
ânothinâ, man-â rafe starts, but you start talking over him.
âjust debatinâ how long it would take you idiots to get ready. got enough gel there, top?â rafe and kelce laugh while topper narrows his eyes at you.
your days are on the boat are always funâthe boys steer while you enjoy the breeze and the sun. you pass the fruit around and read your bookâanother romance beach read, of course. this oneâs about two best friends falling in love. you canât find the will to keep reading.
you tune in a conversation about a party tonight.
âare we going?â you ask, looking expectantly at the three boys in front of you.
âyeah. why wouldnât we?â kelce says. you shift your gaze to rafe, who gestures to your thighs with his eyes. you clamp your legs shut, flushing.
âfun. what time?â
.âď¸ ÝË
finding a little hard to walk straight after your little tryst on the boat, you switch your heeled sandals for a pair of sneakers for tonight. you smooth out your pretty blue dress in the back of topâs jeep. him and kelce are in the front, you and rafe in the back, pulling up to whichever family that was off-islandâs mansion for the evening. the music was blaring, audible from even down the street, with two boys carring a keg into the house while top parked.
âare they celebrating something?â you question, staring at the crowds of people inside.
âyeah. the fact that itâs saturday night,â kelce answers, and you shove the back of his head from the backseat.Â
you hear rafe and top talking about something, though you canât make it out. yesterday you thought, dreading when the boys swung by your house to get you, that it would be awkward to sit next to rafe and act like nothing had happened. surprisingly after the conversation this morning, you find that itâs not. he leaned over to open the door for you to get in, asked you how your class was, did the things he always did.
topperâs an idiot for boosting his wheels, and youâd told him as much when he showed you guys for the first time. getting down is a nightmare, even more in your sore state (which you are attributing to the pilates and not the boy sitting next to you right now).Â
you turn to look at rafe again but heâs not there, and instead you see him in your window, opening the door and offering you a hand to get down. rafeâs probably helped you down a dozen times. this feels different, you admit to yourself, holding onto his hand to get down and keenly aware of his other hand hovering around your waist.
inside, the party is in full swing, one corner by the windows with billows of smoke and a group of boys in another corner mixing drinks.Â
the four of you end up like alwaysâdivided into half on opposite ends of a painted pong table from someoneâs old frat house. some girl topâs been talking to makes her way over, hanging off his arm before long. rafe watches you toss the white ball, your nose scrunching up in concentration. you cheer when it goes in, turning to hug kelce. youâve only had two cups but youâre getting tipsy already, he can tell.
âtop. top!â rafe shouts over the music, but heâs too busy talking to the girl to notice.
âman, heâs clearly busy,â kelce says with a laugh.
âi agree. looks like that oneâs for you, rafe.â you look at him with a giddy smile, leaning forward on the table, palms pressed flat. he wishes you wouldnâtâhe can see down the front of your dress from this angle. you cheer when rafe chugs the cup of cheap beer.
he should make the next one just to get back at you, but he doesnât want you to get too drunk. instead he misses, the ball falling right into kelceâs hands.Â
if you were sober, youâd roll your eyesâyouâd recognize that rafe missed on purpose. heâs better at this than all of you combined.
âgive me five,â rafe says to top, casting one more glance back at you and kelce before walking towards a group of people on the couches and fishing something out of his pocket.
heâs gone, at most, ten minutes, and returns to find kelce missing. his place is taken by some brunette boy, who is currently trying to show you the best way to toss the ball. heâs standing awful close, a hand on your shoulder, his gaze on your exposed skin while you stare at the red cups.
âwho the fuck is this?â rafe barks, though with the music blasting, only topper can hear him.
âi dunno, kelce ran off with that chick heâs been hooking up with-â the white ping pong ball lands in the red cup closest to rafe. he hopes he doesnât look up to see something thatâs gonna piss him off, but itâs dashed in secondsâyou hugging the stranger in glee that you made another shot.Â
he swings around the table, shooting a glare at the boy while putting himself in between the two of you. he faces the boy first.
âget lost.â the boy tries to say something, but rafe interrupts before he can get a word out. âget. lost.â you watch him scramble away, rafe turning to face you.
âcâmon. weâre done with pong.â
âbut i made the last one!â
âi said weâre done. yâlucky i donât take your ass home.â
âwe just got here. why would you take me home?â you question.
for all the big talk, all the jokes and banter and emotions youâre trying to bury, you still donât understand the simple truth known to everyone thatâs ever met you and rafeâheâs never going to be happy seeing you with any boy besides himself.
âwhatâs wrong?â you question softly, looking up at him with big, confused, drunk eyes, not snarky like he thought you might be.
âno. just.. stop talkinâ to strangers, sâall.â
âbut he was nice!â you yell over the music, picking up another cup from the table and taking a sip. you hate beer, but they took topâs jeep and not rafeâs truck, so thereâs no spiked seltzer here for you.Â
âno he wasnât.â he takes the cup from your hand, pouring half the beer out into another cup before shoving it back in your hand.
âyeah he was! donât you want that? the sooner i find a nice guy we can stop all of this, right?â you look at him earnestly, before chugging the rest of your beer.Â
âalright, youâre cut off.â
the rest of the night goes by the same as all the othersâkelce and top into a competition to see who can get more drunk, you tipsy enough to talk loudly about anything that comes to mind and rafe scaring away any guy who stares at you for too long. you stare at rafeâs back when he goes to sell, watching a pretty girl touch his arm when heâs counting the cash sheâs handed him.Â
you look away since you feel the beer coming back up, anger bubbling. you focus on topper, trying to follow along with his nonsensical conversation about his ex-girlfriend.
âdonât worry,â kelce says, and you turn your gaze on him, confused. âhe didnât even look at her.â
âwhat?â but his eyes arenât on you, glancing behind you. you turn, though you shouldnât, looking at rafe, two girls laughing at something while he opens the little white packet for them. glancing at kelce, and then at top, who is keeled over on the sofa, nursing a half-empty bottle of tequila just by himself, you walk over to where rafe is.
âwait, donât-â kelce calls out after you, but you donât listen.
ârafe, i think topâs ready to go. are you?â you interrupt his conversation with the two girls, and though you despise the fact that youâre doing this, you realize kelce was right. he wasnât even looking at them. you gesture at your two other best friends on the couch, kelce trying to yank the bottle from topâs grip.
âyeah, kid. câmon, this place is dead anyways.â you smile, though you shouldnât let rafe see it. no, your smile is for the girls. you feel an unparalled joy when rafe swings his arm around you, guiding you back to the couch.Â
you shouldnât look back, but you do. the girls look mad and you feel happy.
this is fuckedâthe very thought sobers you. you shouldnât be happy that those girls think thereâs something between you and rafe, but you are.Â
rafe manhandles topper into standing up, while kelce turns to talk to you. heâs drunk, and it comes out like a laugh. you smile, thinking heâs going to make some joke about top and tequila.
âyouâre just as toxic as he is. hah. and i thought rafe was bad-â
âwhat?â you ask, but rafe cuts you off before you can figure out what kelce means.
âkelce, itâs your job to make sure he doesnât puke in the back.â
âman, why am i always on top watch-â
in the car, you pick the music while rafe drives. you notice he keeps an eye out in the backseat, with topâs head half out the window and kelce texting on his phone.
âdid you sell a lot?â you ask. youâve never really mentioned it before, so rafe didnât expect it tonight.
kelceâs words linger in your head. if you werenât sober before he said that, you certainly are now.Â
âenough. why?â
âjust wondering. i saw you before we left, thatâs all.â you look at the road ahead, listening to the quiet tune of the bryson tiller song youâd put on.
âyou saw me?â
âwith the pretty girl throwing herself at you? hard not to see.â you regret the words as soon as they leave your mouthâyou sound bitter and angry, two things you truly are, but you donât want rafe to know already.
âwhat, you jealous, kid?â
âwhy would i be jealous? youâre not my boyfriend.â it comes out louder than you expected, trying to talk over top and kelceâs voices in the backseat.
âno, mânot.âÂ
you bite your cheek and stare out the window.Â
ânot to interrupt, or anything, but i think topâs gonna puke-â you jolt when rafe slams on the brakes.
tannyhill is fifteen minutes from where the party was, but it takes fifty minutes to get back. rafe pulled over twice to let topper puke on the side of the road, so itâs three am before the four of you get back.
you want to go homeâthe alcohol in your system and unfinished conversation with rafe have left you feeling queasy too, but itâs three in the morning. top and kelce are too drunk to drive you, and you donât want to ask rafe.
you decide that you donât want to be alone with rafe either, changing into one of the shirts youâd brought from home and stupidly looking down realizing itâs one of rafeâs. did you own a single t-shirt that wasnât from his closet? where had all of your clothes gone?
grumpy that youâre in his clothes, upset that he had pretty much admitted he wasnât your boyfriend, and riddled with the assumption that he meant he would never be your boyfriend, you collect a pillow and one of the blankets from his bed, walking out the door when you hear rafeâs voice saying your name.
âwhere the hell are you goinâ?â facing him, you stare at your feet.
âthe couch.â
âwhen have you ever slept on the couch here?â
âiâm starting something new.â
âget in bed before i drag you there.â you groan, thumping both feet on the ground before stalking into the room. rafe exhales loudly, loud enough that you hear it, before muttering something under his breath and following you inside, closing the door.
you sit on the bed, but before you can think about what youâve done, you bunch up a pillow in your hand.
âyou-â you throw the pillow at rafe, which misses him completely. âsuck!â the second thuds against his chest, before falling on the ground. you huff from your position on the bed.
rafe picks up both pillows, dropping them on the bed.
âwhat the hell was that?â
âthis whole thing was a mistake.â
âitâs been two days.â
âwell iâm an emotional fuck!â
âyeah, i can tell.â you pick up the pillow again, whacking rafeâs side with it.
âugh! you canât just-â your hands falter, dropping next to you while you look up at rafe through wet eyes. â-just say that us sleeping together is a good idea because you donât want me with any other guys. what the fuck am i supposed to do with that?âÂ
âi donât know! youâre the fuckinâ clueless one. whatâd you think that means?â
âstop! just tell me! stop making me think, iâm so drunk and everything is mental gymastics with you-â
âwell stop throwinâ my own pillows at me!â
âyou suck, rafe. all of this and you canât just tell me whether you like me or not?âÂ
in hindsight, you donât know where the question came from. maybe a small part of you that wasnât willfully ignorant suspected a long time ago that the way rafe acts towards you is more than just overprotective friendship. you had buried the thought the second it emergedârafe cameron doesnât have girlfriends, doesnât do relationships. the rafe thatâs been your best friend was your best friend for that very reason, because you werenât in love with him.
or at least you thought you werenât in love with him. and at least, he thought you werenât in love with him.
the truth, youâre beginning to realize, watching rafe grab the pillow youâre about to hit him with out of your hands and set it down, is that rafe only acts the way he does with you, and no one else. the drinks you like in the back of his car, his shirts in your closet, the bed you share and all the time you two spend alone. you thought it was a great friendship, and maybe it was. but all along thereâs been something bubbling underneath the surface, the feeling in the pit of your stomach when he started talking to that girl, how angry you get when you see him with any girl thatâs not you.Â
you thought rafeâs a dick for giving you such a hard time about any boy you try to talk to. he is a dick, but youâre the bitch that canât stand seeing him with another girl.
and as the thoughts rush through your head, rafe looks at you in his bed, in his shirt, and realizes the answer to your question is that thereâs no one in the world he likes more than you.
âyou should have told me âbout the emotional fuck part.â
âyou should have just confessed.â
ânah, not really my thing.â he sits down on the bed next to you, and you stare up at blue eyes that are looking at you, a smile on his lips. âthis whole thing was a bad idea.â
âitâs been two days,â you mock.
âyeah, well, we tried it.â
âdo you regret it?â you hold your breath for the moment of truth.
âcâmon kid. yeah, i do. âcause iâm not letting you out of my sight after this. youâre dating me or no one at all.â
âso if we break up-â
âstraight to the convent for you. donât worry, iâll send you a care package. strawberry seltzer and those porno books-â
âshut up.â
âyou shut up. and get the fuck into bed. itâs late.â
âyou donât want one last emotional fuck? on your last day as a single man?â you tease, crawling under the sheets. âlearn how to read a clock. itâs past midnight.â
âoh. whatever, you know what i mean.â
âi guess i can be convinced-â he leans in for a kiss, and you hold your breath waiting for it, when thereâs a sharp knock on the door.
âguys. sorry to interrupt whatever the hell this is, but i think top needs to get his stomach pumped.â
#đhere it is#i am so nervous about this if you think itâs ass . i apologize in advance#kook trio reader#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader
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I was talking with a friend the other day about how I was fascinated with American school life when I was a teen because it seemed so different from how things are in my country (I knew about US high schools thanks to Hollywood, an accurate and trustworthy source) and we talked about which aspects of US schools felt foreign or strange to us and one thing I brought up was, how American teens only seemed to have like 15min for lunch (I had 1h30 here in France), as evidenced by the cafeteria scenes (no one seemed to eat a proper four-course meal? I definitely never saw a separate cheese course), and I was like, I envied a lot of stuff about US schools but not this
... and I went looking in my old diaries to see if I ever wrote about this, and you know what? I was wrong. I did envy their school lunches which, like almost everything about US schools, felt intriguing and different and cool. The reason middle school-me thought American school lunches were superior to French ones is because, since American teens in TV shows only seemed to get like 4 chicken nuggets and a milk carton for lunch, their lunch tray was very light and they could hold it with one hand under it, the other hand in their pocket or holding their bag strap on their shoulder all casual-like. Sometimes there was no tray, even!
I envied these American teenagers for their lunchtime nonchalance. I would have liked to handle lunch in this cool-cat way but my French lunch tray being loaded with 4 different heavy and breakable plates, I had to hold it carefully with both hands. In my view this was unfair as the hindrance of governmental nutrition guidelines made French students look like uptight nerds, unable to strut around the cafeteria with one hand in our pocket like we didnât care. Same for the absence of lockers in our schools, we had to carry all our books on our back all day like studious turtles whilst the beautiful 25 year old American teens on my television casually leant against their lockers chatting with friends then strolled around school with just a couple of books tucked under their arm like they were in Dead Poets Society. Thank god there was an ocean between us, imagine a French kid entering a US school cafeteria carrying 3 binders and 5 textbooks in their big rucksack and holding their tray with two hands like a complete loser
Note that these comparisons are quite worthless since I don't know what US school life / food is like in the real world (I imagine it varies a lot!)âI just find it funny to re-read old diaries and discover what was important to kid-me. Discussing these little cultural differences gleaned from US TV series, adult!me is like "yeah I remember being intrigued & envious about a lot of things! Not their school lunches though, they didn't look balanced and nutritious"âmeanwhile middle school-me, focused on what mattered, was like, imagine what we could be... imagine being able to hold your lunch tray with 1 hand instead of 2 thus accessing a realm of coolness unfathomable to us in our backward country
#i'm glad i used to spend hours writing diaries... as a kid i never thought i'd enjoy re-reading them later i thought it'd be too mortifying#but no. i'm glad i wrote down for posterity the 4-page-long detailed account of how i embarrassed myself in front of my crush in 2005#crucial historical document. to me
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The Video (Part 2) (LN4)
Summary: Theyâve taken leaked videos to a whole new level.
Warnings: its a sex tape so that, sexual conversations, language, explicit
Note: when i was trying to come up with a part 2 for the video i literally couldnt think of anything until i was half asleep and this came to me and i was like THATS IT đ¤âđť(part 1 is here)
TWITTER
mclarensgirly woke up today and saw âlando norris y/n y/l/n sex tapeâ trending and thought it was a joke so i clicked on it and GOOD GOD IT WAS NOT A JOKE
- ln4andop81 my jaw DROPPED when it surfaced
- mclarenfan22 anybody watch it??
- mclarensgirly yeah ofc who do you think i am
- ln4andop81 YES.
- f1fan2 you bet your ass i grabbed my popcorn and STUDIED that vid
- mclarensgirly i had an idea lando was dirty but BROOOOOOO
- ln4andop81 its even hotter that the camera isnt propped up somewhere its literally being filmed by lando as he goes in from the back
- f1fan2 I LITERALLY STILL CANT WRAP MY HEAD AROUND IT LIKE HIS VOICE WAS SO CLOSE TO THE MICROPHONE AND YOU COULD HEAR ALL HIS MOANS AND THE SHIT HE WAS SAYING TO HER
- mclarenfan22 âyou like being fucked from behind baby?â I CEASED TO EXIST.
- ln4andop81 WHEN HE WENT FASTER AND SAID âfuck baby so tightâ đŠđŠđŠ
- f1fan2 the way he gripped her hips so he could go harder>>>>
- mclarenfan22 this video has literally altered my brain chemistry.
â
y/nnn yeah ofc we have sex⌠look at him.
Comments:
danielricciardo HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
- landonorris shut tf up
- y/nnn let him laugh its fine im getting good dick
- danielricciardo im no longer laughing.
mclarenfan22 SHES SO REAL OMFG
Landos-lover1 slut behavior
- y/nnn stalker behavior babes, youre not his lover, i am đ
- mclarensgirly oh how i wish to be as unbothered as her
- f1fan2 SHUT. DOWN.
landonorris this was not the planned statement we talked abt đĽ˛
- y/nnn planned statement my ass we were having good sex let them wish they were us
- ln4andop81 she understands the lando girlies to a level that makes me believe she once was one of us too
- y/nnn OH HELL YEAH I WAS DONT GET IT TWISTED HE WAS MY CELEB CRUSH FOR YEARS BEFORE WE STARTED DATING
- ln4andop81 BRUHHHHHH YOU MANIFESTED IT I ENVY YOU
- y/nnn THANK YOU THANK YOU I DID MY BEST
- ln4andop81 YEAH AND NOW YOURE HAVING GREAT SEX AND RUBBING IT IN EVERYONES FACES
- y/nnn THAT TRULY WAS THE GOAL.
- landonorris what just happened
â
landonorris apparently the statement never mattered anyway so basically i love my girlfriend and that video was supposed to be kept between us but honestly now all yall bitches know im good in bed SO THE NICKNAME NORIZZ BETTER BE PUT. DOWN.
Comments:
carlossainz norizz will never die.
- danielricciardo norizz lives on.
- oscarpiastri norizz forevermore.
- landonorris i hate you
- y/nnn its ok baby they didnt see the tape so they dont understand
- landonorris well now they need to watch it to understand im sick AND TIRED of this
- oscarpiastri ARE YOU STUPID DID YOU JUST ASK ME TO WATCH YOUR SEX TAPE
- danielricciardo lando there is a target on your back.
- carlossainz im gonna pretend like i dont even know who you are
- y/nnn what an overwhelming no!
- landonorris đđ
oscarandlando4ever norizz the nickname was forgotten the first time around when the grinding vid surfaced
- f1fan2 yeah they went in for the overkill this time
mclarenfan34 yeah we def KNOW youre good in bed now dw
- mclarenfan22 âdo you like it when i make your eyes roll back my love?â PROVED THAT.
- mclarensgirly âill never get over the feeling of you fuck babyâ đ¤đ¤đ¤
- f1fan2 *she moans his name* âyes y/n say my name baby let everyone know who makes you feel this goodâ I HAD TO TAKE A BREATHER
- mclarensgirly âgood girlâ and âyoure taking me so wellâ HAD ME DRY HEAVING.
- ln4andop81 no but the best part of the entire vid was when she came and he moaned âyes baby ill never get tired of the feeling of you cumming around my dick like a good girlâ
- y/nnn im a lucky girl âźď¸
â
TWITTER
mclarensgirly one month since the sex tape leaked and we FINALLY get the info from lando on HOW it got leaked
- mclarensgirly in an interview with lissie he says, âit was actually my fault. Thereâs a, uh, folder, if you will, on my laptop that has videos and pictures of that category which we have accumulated in the years weâve been together. Well, anyway, i was emailing with a fan about her transaction with quadrant merch. Itâs a long story but her order had been so screwed up that i had to step in and see it out myself, but, nonetheless, i was trying to attach her old receipt and new receipt to the email, but, because it was 2 AM and I was exhausted, I didnât realize I went into me and y/nâs folder, didnât realize I clicked and attached that video. By the time I realized what I had done, the email had already been sent. The fan never emailed me back to get her merchandise, but the next morning we [y/n and him] woke up to it being plastered on all platforms.â
- mclarensgirly he later goes on to say, âNo, we werenât that mad. I mean, yes, we were mad the fan had leaked it, but we werenât upset it was out there. You can see us make jokes about it on our social medias. Weâve made sex jokes before and we had that other video leak a few months back, so it isnât a shocker or touchy subject with our fans that we have sex. Yeah, the video was a lot and Iâm sure made people uncomfortable, Iâm sorry for that, but, at the end of the day, itâs a natural, healthy part of a relationship and we didnât feel the need to try and cover it up.â
- ln4andop81 YOURE FORGETTING MY FAVORITE QUOTE FROM THE ENTIRE INTERVIEW WHEN HE SAYS âwe have great sex! We have a great sex life! And if people know that Iâm more than capable of satisfying my girlfriend in bed, then so fucking be it. Neither of us are complaining.â
â
TWITTER
landonorris 2 videos leaked, nervous the others will too
- y/nnn put the GODDAMN folder on a flashdrive and give it to me PLZ. i will keep it safe
- landonorris only way ill do that is if you recreate both leaked vids with me
- y/nnn deal.
#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1 x reader#mclaren#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris fanfic#lando norris fluff#lando norris imagines#lando norris edit#lando norris x you#lando norris smut#lando norris fanfiction#lando norris
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Spencer Reid x she/her!reader
A/N: youâre used to me disappearing for months but I hope by now you can trust that Iâll always come back x
warnings: reader is a victim of misogyny (arenât we all)
In A World Of Boys
Doctor Spencer Reid. His name alone sends your heart thrumming as the elevator ascends, your shoes tapping against the metal ground with excitement and impatience in equal measure. It isnât unusual for a case to have called the team in at the crack of dawn, but that was not something you ever imagined youâd actively look forward to. Then again, you couldnât have counted on the sunrise casting a soft pink, almost heavenly glow to illuminate the office that seemed to converge around one man in particular the moment you saw him.
He approaches you with a warm smile, one mug held to his lips and another held in an outstretched hand, for you. Made just the way you liked it; not that you ever verbalized such details, someoneâs eidetic memory just thought to pay attention to how you prepared your hot drinks until it was a task that could be taken off your hands entirely.
âGood morning.â Spencer greets you, a playful lilt in his voice at just how early this morning is.
âMorning, and cheers.â You share a light chuckle as you clink your mugs together in a gesture of soft comradery, your gazes locking as you take a simultaneous sip.
Such a thing is officially a symbol of trust, but the look in Spencerâs eyes is enough to hold you still if the ground was ripped out from beneath you. His curls are a little disheveled, as always, and his tie is as crooked as ever. Ruggedly handsome would be an accurate description, if you didnât know Spencer better than that, know him to be so much gentler than such a roughened description. And your heart sings for him.
A tradition youâve come to appreciate amongst the BAU during longer flights is sharing stories of their shared pasts. The tales are typically hilarious at the expense of one team member or another, but it is all in jest, and as the newest member of the team, you love hearing about their funniest moments from before you had known the people who have welcomed you so openly.
âOh, we have to talk about the pool incident! What was her name, Spence?â JJ asks with a mischievous glint in her eye, the teamâs attention pulled entirely to Spencer.
You canât withhold the shocked expression on your face, youâve not heard of any previous romantic encounters in Spencerâs life; this should be interesting.
âIt was Lila, wasnât it? Câmon, Spence, itâs been years, you can tell us now!â JJ presses, the rest of the team egging her on, but you stay quiet, your interest piqued to the extent that you canât utter a word.
âLila was an admirably strong woman, but as much as I hate to disappoint, thereâs really nothing more to tell.â Spencer shrugs, smile unreadable.
In his former years, such a question would have flustered him, but not anymore. His answer is enough to fluster you, however. A man who doesnât kiss and tell, and is so quietly firm in such a resolve, is one to keep in mind.
As if to make matters worse, Spencer then rises from his seat on the jet and strolls past you, making the effort to lean away from you - in case any sudden turbulence should unsteady him, he wonât risk even nudging you - on his journey to the galley. And the way he walks, the delicate trail of his cologne lingering in his wake when he passes your seat, itâs dizzying.
This is a moment that you know you will never forget, and you canât help envying the fact that Spencer can so effortlessly recall every moment spent with you in the depths of eidetic memory. Itâs almost ritualistic, how you lie in bed every night and replay your most treasured moments with Spencer, to send yourself to a peaceful sleep in which you hope to dream of him. Part of you wonders if he ever replays moments with you in his mind, with more clarity than you can ever hope to possess.
Little do you know, you are his favorite film.
On nights when insomnia strikes, you are the guaranteed remedy. When it is for you, Spencerâs eidetic memory is nothing short of a gift. He has a library dedicated to you, containing every look in your eyes, every micro-expression, every variation of your laugh, your smile, every word you have ever said in his presence. Sometimes, it takes him hours to decide which memory of you heâll replay before he allows himself to sleep.
Neither of you are aware of how many nights you have spent lying awake in the same hours, focussing on the very same memories. While you absentmindedly play with the little flower charm on the necklace that Spencer bought you for your birthday, his gaze will drift to the special edition of Frankenstein that you bought him, for no reason other than it made you think of him. Of course, Spencer already had a copy, but the one from you lives on his bedside table. He had the edition completely memorized in a matter of minutes, but he has devoted more time to rereading that book than he has any other, because you gifted it to him. Sometimes, Spencer traces the spine and wonders where youâd held it before gifting it to him; if that will be as close as he ever comes to the blessing of one day holding your hand.
One of your most vivid memories with Spencer - and one that you frequently use to fall asleep with a smile on your face - first came to be during your second week working with the team. You didnât know Spencer very well then, but you knew enough to be besotted by him; you knew that from the moment his eyes first met yours. A case required an undercover mission centered around you, as the only member of the team to fit the unsubâs type. While you could have handled the mission on your own, Spencer insisted that he be placed undercover inside the club you were set to enter, posing as a member of the public, to ensure you had immediate backup if you needed it. The undercover mission itself went without a hitch, though Spencer spent the duration of it trying his very best not to crush the glass he pretended to nurse in his hand as he watched the unsub flirt with you mercilessly, and without an ounce of respect. When the unsub was arrested and dragged out of the bar, you and Spencer followed, and he went to one of the government-issued vehicles to grab his FBI jacket for you while advising you to stand in the doorway and wait. He didnât want you getting cold in your pretty dress, but that was a detail he kept to himself.
As you stood in the doorway, leaning against a wall with your arms crossed over your chest, the wind caught the thigh-high slit in your dress, exposing the skin of your thigh only momentarily, but it was enough for some sleazy, drunk middle-aged man to leer out you.
âSexy lady!â He had called out to you in a slurred voice, opening his arms to you, beer bottle in hand.
And, as every woman has learnt to do, you gave him your best, tight lipped, polite smile.
âThanks, but no thanks.â You answered as evenly as you could.
In an instant, the sleazeâs smirk was gone, replaced with an almost disgusted frown.
âStupid slut.â He muttered, so quietly you almost didnât hear him, but in the time it took for your eyes to widen, Spencer had pinned the manâs hands behind his back and sent the beer bottle shattering on the ground - collateral damage from shoving the sleaze into the nearest wall.
âYou are under arrest for drunk and disorderly behaviour, as well as sexual harassment, and absolutely any other charge I can find when I dig up every morsel of your existence.â Spencerâs words were eerily quiet, but they were sharper than any youâd ever heard, dripping with a venom you didnât imagine he was capable of possessing then.
After tossing the drunk misogynist into the back of one of the police cars still on the scene from your undercover mission, Spencer walked over to you and draped his FBI jacket over your shoulders, tugging it around you with a gentleness that completely juxtaposed what you had just witnessed.
âIâm sorry.â Heâd said quietly, warranting a confused frown from you, that urged him to elaborate. âIâm sorry that you were treated in such an abhorrent way, and that you had to see me like that.â
Your frown melted into an adoring smile. âSpencer, youâve got nothing to apologize for. Thank you for defending me from a man that I doubt realizes he even did anything wrong. While he might be the scum of the earth, you-â You gently poked his chest through his shirt, â-are a gentleman.â
Spencer had thought then that his heart couldnât possibly soar higher than that, but oh, how wrong he had been.
Coincidentally, one of Spencerâs favorite memories of you is one you can recall very little of. It was the only occasion on which Spencer had politely declined the teamâs invitation to a local bar for drinks in an evening. He had been rereading the copy of Frankenstein youâd bought him, comfortably nestled on his couch with a lingering smile as he sought pieces of you in between the lines of text, when his phone rang.
Seeing your name, Spencer picked up in a microsecond.
â(Y/N)? Is everything alright?â His mind was immediately reeling. Had something happened? Were you safe?
A sniffle came through the phone, and his heart shattered.
âJusâ so lonely.â Your voice was slurred by the alcohol youâd consumed, but in the sweetest way. Your words did little to ease the anxiety swirling in Spencerâs mind, because every time he had seen you drink, you had been the giggliest mess heâd ever known; you had never been the stereotypical sad-drunk, as far as he knew.
âLonely? Arenât you at the bar with the team?â He questioned, because he could hear other voices in the background of the call and alarm bells were ringing. Had the rest of the team left? Or, worse, had you drunkenly wandered off somewhere and gotten lost? He was already putting his shoes on and grabbing a jacket.
âYeah, but theyâre not you.â There was an urgency and an aching sadness to your words, Spencer could hear it even through the distortion of a phone call, and your words stumped him. He blinked once, then twice, before replying.
âWell, no, they arenât me.â
He felt that had been an obvious distinction, but perhaps you needed him to make that clear in your drunken state.
An equally dramatic and exasperated sigh came through the phone. âI know that, and thatâs why Iâm sad. I miss you!â
Spencer was out of his apartment door in record time, racing down the stairs until he reached the parking lot beneath his building.
âYou miss me? Really?â He had asked you because he wanted to hear you say it again, he had to, the smile on his face growing exponentially.
âLots.â Your voice broke on that one word, and it was enough for Spencer to risk several speeding tickets to reach you in a time he would never, ever tell you, because youâd lecture him about road safety. Perhaps someday he will tell you, just to hear you speak to him for a prolonged period of time, even if itâs a lecture at the expense of his reckless adoration.
By the time Spencer arrived at the bar, you were a blubbering mess in Rossiâs arms. It was only when you were transferred to Spencerâs arms that your drunk mind registered his presence, and the sheer joy on your face despite your tears was something he knew would be his only remaining memory if he lost everything else in some freak accident. Amidst your incoherent mumblings of compliments and praises towards Spencer - each and every one under lock and key in his heart ever since - he carried you back to his car and drove you home with your body wrapped almost entirely around his arm from where you sat in the passenger seat of his car. Once at your house, he carried you to the door bridal style, lowering you temporarily so that you could clumsily unlock your front door, before he picked you back up again and carried you inside, all the way to your bed. And there, he laid you down, slipped your shoes off, tucked you into bed, and wiped your face with your skincare products efficiently, from what youâd told him of your nightly routine. He fetched you a glass of water and sat you up to drink the whole thing, then refilled it and set it on your bedside table - in case you woke up thirsty in the night, or if you needed it first thing in the morning. Lying you back down, he left a little kiss on your forehead, and due to your eyes being closed, he assumed you were already falling asleep, until you reached for his hand when he tried to go.
âStay.â You pleaded in a barely-conscious and far-from-sober tone.
Spencer smiled at you like you were the stars in the sky.
âAlright.â He almost whispered, taking a seat on the edge of your bed, while you laid under your covers, practically curled around where he sat.
With one of his hands on your shoulder, Spencer sat with you, spelling out words youâd never register on the back of your shoulder blade with his thumb and index finger.
So beautiful.
Everything.
To be yours.
And as his thumb curved the last letter âsâ on the back of your hand, Spencer heard your breathing settle to a rate that told him you were dreaming. Very slowly, he tucked you under the bedcovers, stood himself up, and left, but not before leaving you with a message he intended for you to comprehend later. You had not consented to Spencer staying the night with you, and you were in no position to give that consent in your state, but you had asked him to stay, so he stayed until you wouldnât know that heâd gone.
The next morning, you awoke to a little note on your bedside table that simply said:
Good morning, angel. Please drink some water and let me know you survived drinking enough alcohol to fill the Hoover Dam (not literally, thatâs not biologically possible).
-Spencer x
It was enough to make you laugh, and despite your immediate pounding headache, you reached for your phone.
You: hahaha, very funny. thank you so much for last night, Iâm sorry for the mess â¤ď¸
And, to your accustomed surprise, Spencer started typing back immediately.
Spencer: Iâm glad that you survived to enjoy my joke. You are always welcome, and you have nothing to apologize for.
You went to set your phone down on your bedside table again, when it lit up with another text.
Spencer: â¤ď¸
Surviving the alcohol you consumed was nothing compared to the way you had to fight for your life upon receiving that.
That morning, when you were called into the office for a case, youâd expected to be greeted with an onslaught of teasing from your coworkers, but Spencer had enough time before you arrived to plead with the rest of the team not to embarrass you. Surprisingly, they had agreed, but on one condition: Spencer had to do something about his workplace crush, because the rest of the team were losing their patience with the tension between you. To save you the embarrassment, Spencer sacrificed his own dignity in agreeing to that, and itâs been hanging over his head ever since.
The clouds beneath the jet serve as an interesting background to your thoughts, your headphones blocking out any and all sound beyond your music. You are away in your own little world, save for the part of your brain that is acutely aware of your elbow touching Spencerâs with the only barrier being your jacket and his. Does he spend as much time dwelling on these things? Does he ever wonder, like you do, that this connection between you could amount to something else, something more, if either of you were willing to take the risk? The risk is, in itself, a great one. While the risks surrounding any love in general are an obvious factor, in your shared field of work, that is exacerbated. Neither of you can explicitly trust that you would be able to act professionally if the other was harmed in any way, and you could bear witness to any degree of harm against the other while in the field. If that wasnât enough, should it not work out, you would have no choice but to leave your dream job to work and live elsewhere, uprooting the life youâve built here in its entirety; while Spencer would stay with the family he has worked with for so many years, the building would never feel the same to him without you in it. Whoever took your desk after you, he would be unable to withhold a small amount of resentment towards - he would never act on it, but he would feel it. And the guilt of being with him having caused you to have to restart your life somewhere else? That is a weight he is terrified of carrying. So many have faced worse fates as a result of getting close to Spencer, but when it comes to you, he cannot think of any worse than that, or his chest will start to hurt.
Perhaps this case is the perfect opportunity, he wonders to himself while a female cop converses with him, barely occupying even half of Spencerâs brain as he focuses on thoughts of you.
âI think itâs great you guys have come down here to help us!â The local cop grins up at Spencer.
A case in Vegas, where he could use some time once the case is closed to show you some of his favorite places. Youâd like that, he thinks.
âThank you, weâre always happy to help when requested.â Spencer answers casually.
But from the little office youâre working in, you can see the way that local cop is ogling at Spencer, and you feel a twinge of jealousy. It was only a few minutes ago you were looking at the hazel in his eyes up close in the same way she currently is, but you like to think youâre a little less obvious than that. You are not.
âSome of these guys, you can tell they donât know what theyâre doing, but you definitely do, donât you? Iâve heard the rest of your team calling you a genius!â The local cop babbles to Spencer, eyes like an animal in heat.
Perhaps a tour of the casinoâs? But a certain card-counting ability resulting in a certain state-wide ban would make that somewhat difficult. That probably wouldnât be a very good date. Would it be a date? Spencer wonders, before he shrugs, feeling a little awkward.
âI donât believe intelligence can be accurately quantified given its diversity in both person and circumstance, but I appreciate your faith in the BAU, who Iâd better get back to. Thanks.â With that, he steps away from the officer, thinking nothing of the conversation given that his focus had been elsewhere for the duration of it.
You, however, cannot let it go. To your detriment, you assume a seasoned profiler like Spencer can read flirtatious intent a mile off (his unreliable grasp on social cues begs to differ) and from a distance, it didnât look to you that he outright rejected the advances of another woman (his unreliable grasp on social cues left him unaware there were even advances to reject), and that left you feelingâŚupset. You had thought your relationship with Spencer to be special, that he didnât reject the warm, sweet tension between the two of you because he liked you, specifically, but if he didnât reject the flirtations of another woman, are you just a more regular occurrence of what she offered him?
Little do you know, if Spencer heard your thoughts suggest he only merely âlikedâ you, he may very well go into cardiac arrest under the pressure of the weight to correct you, adamantly. There is not a string of words in his vocabulary to adequately describe what he feels for you, and to imply âlikeâ conveys them is salt in the wound you cause in his heart for each day youâre not his.
Naturally, for the rest of the day you are accompanied by a cloud hanging over your head to consistently remind you of that very same fact - that you are not Spencerâs. It is hardly surprising you do everything in your power to avoid him, offering to assist every member of the team with whatever task theyâre doing to take you out of his reach and prevent him from talking to you. Of course, you know heâll notice, and youâll apologize when youâve recovered enough to not cry at the thought of him, but for tonight are destined to bury yourself in hotel bedcovers that you partially hope suffocate you into unconsciousness to save you further torment.
Most unfortunately for you, only an hour into your tears, there is a soft knock at your hotel room door. By now, you are beyond the point of being able to hide the extent to which you have already cried, so you formulate a number of excuses pertaining to allergies or hormones on your way to the door. All of those lies evaporate on opening your door to find Spencer standing there, looking down at you with pleading eyes that quite frankly make you want to launch yourself from your hotel room window.
âIâm sorry to disturb you, (Y/N), I just came by to-â His eyes widen. âYouâve been crying.â
Itâs not a question; Spencer knows you well enough to not need to doubt himself when he reads your physical tells.
âYeah, donât worry about it. Did you need something?â You brush off his concern, hoping to distract him with whatever his original reason for coming here was - it wouldnât be the first time Spencer materialized in your presence to ask your opinion of something obscure or a social situation he was uncertain of because he felt comfortable enough to come to you about it, you just wanted to get this over with so that you could return to your crying pit.
âI- what? Donât worry about it? Youâve been crying, of course Iâll worry about that! Extensively!â Spencer exclaims, his voice rising in pitch slightly with his distress, before he clears his throat. âI came by to check on you because your behavior today confused me, and it appears I was right to be concerned.â Seeing the apprehension on your face, Spencer is quick to amend the question he was going to ask. âIf youâd prefer not to talk about it, I understand and wonât pressure you, but please donât force yourself to suffer alone if you can help it. Thereâs nothing Iâd rather listen to than you.â
The sincerity in Spencerâs words brings fresh tears to your eyes, and itâs physically painful to look away from him and stare at the doorframe.
âItâs nothing, Spencer, just getting in my head about things that-â You begin, and in a moment that is completely unlike his usually overly-polite self, he interrupts you.
âIs it something I did?â He asks, his eyes widening with the same plea as before.
Spencerâs question surprises you so much that you hesitate to answer him, only for a second before your lips part again, but your delay is enough of an answer to him.
â(Y/N), please tell me I did so that I can fix this. I donât understand- Iâve already gone over our every interaction over the past 48 hours, 30 times each, and Iâm not smart enough to have been unable to determine a conclusion on my own. Please tell me.â Spencer begs, his voice hoarse with the weight of having hurt your feelings without ever intending to.
Knowing he isnât going to forgive himself without an explanation and that heâll see through any lie you give him now, you are left without a choice.
âThat cop you spoke to today, was she flirting with you?â The words fall from your lips freely, and Spencer blinks.
Once, twice, then a third time.
âWhichâŚfemale officer? In the past 8 hours I have spoken to three.â He asks so carefully, like heâs walking on glass.
You have to resist rolling your eyes, because you know Spencer isnât being clueless on purpose, but it doesnât ease your pain.
âJust after midday, the one who was looking up at you like you were the best thing sheâd seen all day.â Now, you canât resist rolling your eyes; an involuntary reaction that makes Spencer frown in confusion.
âThe conversation consisted of her thanking us for assisting them with the case and enquiring as to whether Iâm a genius- to which I said I donât think intelligence can be accurately quantified, and that was it.â Spencer has never been more confused in his entire life. He feels there is something obvious staring him right in his face and he is mortified at being completely blind to it, but he is treading very carefully over this invisible minefield.
âShe was flirting with you, Spencer, didnât you see the way she was looking at you?â Trying to read his expression and only finding confusion is not helping.
âI wasnât really looking at her.â Spencer answers truthfully, because his eyes had been glazed over as he thought of places he could show you while in Vegas, where posed the highest probability of a successful date, should you accept the offer he had every intention of presenting you with.
âYou didnât noticeâŚâ You murmur, your heart sinking in your chest.
You had been upset that Spencer hadnât rejected the advances of another woman under the presumption he understood her advances, but if he truly did not when she was being so obvious, he most likely doesnât notice yours, either. He hasnât been reciprocating the energy you thought was between you for that reason, heâs just been continuing the conversation without a clue. A lump forms in your thought.
Meanwhile, Spencer is even more confused.
âIâm not certain I understand what the issue is. Was it the flirting? Or the fact I didnât register it? Should I have?â He is lost and in desperate need of guidance. As soon as he knows what heâs done to upset you, heâll beg on his knees for your forgiveness, but at this time he is still unable to determine the problem. If you had not realized he didnât acknowledge the flirting until now, that couldnât be the issue, but if the issue was simply that heâd been flirted with, you now knowing he wasnât aware of it would have fixed that - so why do you look more upset? This just in: Doctor Spencer Reid loathes social cues.
âDo you notice when anyone flirts with you?â Answering his question with your own question is only sending him further into a spiral.
You are the only person he ever wishes would flirt with him, but Spencer is absolutely convinced you never would. If he answers ânoâ to your rephrased version of the same question you had just asked him, that appears to be the answer you are assuming to be true which is making you look sadder. He does not understand this at all.
âHow do I answer that in a way that wonât upset you furtherâŚâ Spencer frowns, focussing very hard on your every micro-expression, trying to use your face as a cheat sheet.
âI donât think you can, Spencer. Thanks for coming to check on me. Goodnight.â You give him a weak smile and go to close your hotel room door, but Spencer places a palm against the door with an expression of alarm.
âPlease-â He starts, then stops himself when you meet his eyes, his tone softening. âTalk to me.â
You take a deep breath and decide to bite the bullet. What do you have to lose? Your heartâs already been hit with every weapon of mass destruction you can think of.
âI thought- I thought you knew there was- it wasnât flirting, but thereâs been something between us that I thought you knew as well as I did. Stupidly, I thought you were reciprocating it, but if you couldnât tell that cop was flirting with you, thereâs no way you knewâŚâ Your weak smile wavers. âLike I said, just getting in my head over things. Doesnât matter. You havenât done anything wrong. Night-â
Once again unexpectedly, Spencer interrupts you, but this time for a very different reason.
âI need to sit down.â
Itâs only then you realize how suddenly pale heâs become. Paler than youâve ever seen him, in fact. Your eyes widen, and you grab Spencerâs forearms, guiding him into your hotel room and over to the armchair in the corner of the room, the door clicking shut behind you while Spencer stumbles with the most shell shocked look in his eyes.
âSpencer, whatâs going on? Are you alright?â You ask him worriedly.
âIndeterminable.â Spencer answers in a distant voice.
âOkay, okay, uh-â You flit from him to the sink in your hotel room to grab Spencer a glass of water, that youâre quick to bring to him. âHere.â
His eyes donât even focus on you or the glass, but he takes it from your hand and gulps it down. Spencer makes the mistake of glancing at you mid-sip, and starts choking, resulting in you patting his back.
âSomething between usâŚâ He coughs out. âYou said, something between us. What.â
Your eyebrows furrow, and your face feels hot.
âYou know, mutual pining. Like in movies.â You feel very awkward having to explain that.
âBooks, first.â Spencer corrects you quietly, his breathing finally steadying.
âYeah, okay, books first.â You canât help chuckling lightly and taking the empty glass back over to the sink, then returning to Spencer, but stopping in your tracks when you find him now standing instead of sitting in the armchair.
âA study has shown that on average it takes men 88 days to fall in love, while it takes women 134 days. Contrary to popular belief, I donât believe every aspect of love can be reduced to facts and statistics, but in moments of self-doubt I fall back on what I know. I knew what I knew of how I felt about you on the day we met, but I waited 88 days to be certain, and then it was only logical I waited 134 days to give you the chance to develop even the vaguest pleasant feeling towards me.â He takes a breath. âIt has only been 120 days; I had not yet decided how I was going to broach this topic with you, and the question remains as to whether Iâve waited long enough for you to be as certain as I am. If the answer is anything other than yes, I promise, Iâll wait as many days as it takes, even if itâs a number I canât reach.â Spencerâs voice is that of a man swearing an oath he has no doubt heâll live to honor in every sense, and you are certain your heart has stopped beating.
You stare at him with wide eyes, feeling like time has frozen around you, the only sounds being your breathing to fill the suffocating silence of your hotel room. A microexpression of terror flickers across Spencerâs face, and you are brought back to yourself in an instant.
âI wish youâd asked me 120 days ago.â You say breathlessly.
âI didnât ask anything.â Yet, Spencer adds internally, his heart pounding.
âBut youâre going to.â You clarify softly, and Spencer nods, so you nod back at him.
âWouldâŚâ Spencer clears his throat. âWould you allow me the honor of taking you on a date? With me? Together? Here? Or anywhere- anywhere we can realistically travel to, that is-â As he rambles and gets ahead of himself, your expression of shock evolves into a smile, and itâs your turn to interrupt him.
âYes. Anywhere, anytime. Yes.â You answer.
Thereâs a beat of silence as Spencer catches his breath.
âNow?â He dares to whisper, and youâre grinning, glancing between him, and the provisions of a TV, bed and phone that this hotel room provides.
âWould you be opposed to a first date of takeout and shitty hotel room cable?â You offer playfully.
A bashful smile curls at the corner of Spencerâs mouth as he smiles back at you.
âAnything with you.â He says, but is quick to amend his own words. âProvided itâs an entirely safe scenario, obviously.â
That makes you snicker. âObviously.â
Spencer looks between you and the bed, nervous of how to proceed. You make the first move, taking a step towards the bed, and Spencer offers you his hand - somewhat needlessly, but if he ever misses an instant in which he can deliver a gentlemanly action upon you, he would suggest thatâs the instant you shoot him dead - to assist you onto the mattress before he follows suit and sits down beside you, kicking off his shoes.
âIâm completely underdressed for our first date, sorry.â You joke, looking between your pajamas and Spencerâs suit.
âYouâre beautiful.â Is all he says, his voice softer than youâve ever heard it as he gazes down at you with the most gentle smile.
You reach for his hand, intertwining your fingers, and Spencer doesnât hesitate to lift them to his lips to kiss each of your knuckles tenderly.
âTakeout?â He murmurs against your skin, and for a second youâre lost to the daze of his kisses that you wonder if heâs asking whether the act of them has taken you out (to which youâd answer with a resounding yes), but remembering the nature of your date, you nod wordlessly.
Spencer smirks against your knuckles.
âI meant, what kind of takeout?â He amends, and your face feels hot again.
âAnything at all.â Is all you can think to respond, because to be completely honest, you do not care what you eat tonight.
Spencer chuckles quietly at that, keeping his hand holding yours while his other hand reaches for the hotel room phone, to dial for reception and request their recommendations for the best local takeout places.
âWhatâs so funny?â You ask him, but youâre smiling regardless of not yet knowing, just seeing him laugh while his thumb caresses your knuckles.
âI was just thinking, âAnything at allâ is exactly what Iâve thought every time Iâve looked at you.â Spencer muses as he brings the phone to his ear.
Anything at all to make you smile again, anything at all from you, if you asked heâd anything at all for you.
And much like the last time, you donât even realize heâs spelling out words against your skin with the caress of his thumb. This time, though, itâs just one phrase, repeated.
To be yours.
To be yours.
To be yours.
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