#and she had to keep the leg up so she's resting it on my legs and i do need to pee and i have a bit of a headache building up but im still
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“it’s all fun & games”
frontman!in-ho x you
a certain sweetheart in the game knows in-ho’s real identity, but will she care when in-ho feels the same way about her?
˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒. ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒. ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒. ⋆˚ ����𝜚˚⋆. ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒. ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒. ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒.
“let’s go one round and introduce ourselves, it’s lame calling everyone by their numbers.” you chipped in excitedly, hand rest on the palm of your hands as you eyed in-ho.
he knew the game you were playing, you just wanted to see how long he could keep his identity concealed.
“i’m jung-bae.”
“i’m dae-ho.”
“my name’s jun-hee.”
“and i’m seong gi-hun.”
“i’m y/n and i guess that just leaves you.” you pointed to in-ho who was nervously looking down at the floor.
“i-i’m… young-il.” he said in a low voice.
“young-il!” you giggled, “hey, that matches your number! i wonder if it’s a coincidence!”
“ah, she’s right! 0-1, young-il!” junb-bae clapped his hands as the team laughed.
but in-ho couldn’t care less, he gave you a glare as you tirled a few strands of your hair between your fingers.
this was going to be fun.
even as big of a compromise as you were to his plan, in-ho found himself liking it. not only was it a challenge, but he got to see the cheeky, not-so innocent side of you that no one else could.
by now, he was almost a hundred percent positive that you knew exactly who he was, the frontman. but did he care? no. it was all fun and games, just a little tiny ruse of yours to keep him on his toes.
that night when everyone was tucked into their beds, getting ready to sleep, in-ho sneakily walked up to the side of your bed.
“can i help you?” you chirped, eyes doe-wided as you smiled at him. but he saw right through, you wsnted this to happen.
“what do you think you’re doing?” he gritted out, sitting down beside your bed.
“trying to sleep but some bozo won’t let me.” you scoffed playfully, laughung at your own joke while in-ho didn’t even crack a smile. “what do you want?”
“what do i want? i want you to stop whatever games you’re playing here.” he said sternly, “i don’t know how you figured it out, but they don’t know so keep it down!”
“can’t a girl have some fun?” you looked at him with a pout on your lips. “isn’t it more exciting for you this way, i know you like the thrill as much as i do.”
in-ho took a hold of your jacket, giving you no choice but to lean down towards him, face centermeters away from him as you felt his breath on your cheek.
“look, i don’t care that you have anything to do with the game, i really don’t!” you lifted your arms up subtly in surrender. “but i gotta say, you’re pretty hot for the frontman.”
“yeah? is this what you wanted? you just couldn’t help yourself, huh? you needed my attention?”
“maybe.” you shrugged, causing him to shake his head, chuckling in disbelief.
“you’re something else, y’know?”
“all for you.”
after that, you both went to bed. your mind was racing. was this really going to end well? maybe it was just a stupid crush you had on him, it didn’t really matter. but in-ho had other plans, he’s never met someone so sweet yet cunning at the same time. you had awoken a flame inside of him that he swore was already gone.
during breakfast the next day, you sat close to in-ho legs and arms touching as you got comfortable beside him.
“so what’s your real name?” you whispered to him as the others carried on with their conversation.
“you gonna tell anyone, you minx?” he teased, smiling down at you.
“i promise i won’t.”
“it’s in-ho.”
“in-ho, huh? that goes pretty well with y/n.”
he laughed out loud at your obvious flirting, making the others stop to look at you both.
“sorry.” you apologised to the team as they resumed their talk.
when it came to the ‘six-legged pentathlon’ game, you were paired with in-ho, gi-hun, jung-bae and dae-ho.
“oh, inh-i mean young-il, which game do you think you’ll be good at?” you asked, purposefully slipping up to get a rise out of him once more.
in-ho clenched his fist, he knew it was intentional.
“uh, spinning top, i suppose.” he replied.
“great!” you cheered as the game began.
when it came to your turn, everyone was at the brink of either puking or shitting themselves. yet somehow, you remained composed. in-ho took glances of you many times but he couldn’t figure out how you of all people were so calm.
little did he know, you already knew there was no way you would be able to fail these games. for god’s sake, you had the frontman here with you. and if you would’ve guessed? he wasn’t going to stand there and watch you get shot doen by the guards, you knew you already meant more to him than that.
as an act of revenge for your little ‘slip-up’ earlier, in-ho ensured to fail multiple times at his game, making the team even more so uneasy than they already were. he had to admit, it was satisfying to finally see some hints lf fear in your eyes as he failed.
but eventually, the team had made it out alive at the very last second. you let out a deep breath that you were subconsciously holding in.
“scared now?” a voice came from behind.
you whipped your head around, but was only met with the mischievous grin of in-ho.
“are you fuckin’ crazy?!” you practically yelled at him.
in-ho pulled you into the bathroom as the team continued to make their way to the room without you.
“will you shut up?” he scolded, holding you against the wall.
“you’re telling me you did that on purpose?!”
“wasn’t it ‘exciting’?” he mocked you from earlier, causing you to roll your eyes. “and you’re not so innocent too, calling me by my real name in front of everyone like that?”
“it’s my way of flirting.” you joked, snorting a laugh as he gently put you down.
“flirting?”
“yeah, can’t you tell?” you questioned. “and i think it’s starting to rub off on you too.”
you weren’t wrong. in-ho didn’t only find himself liking your cocky remarks more, but he started to copy them too.
“you’re a minx you know that?” he said.
“i know, and you love it.”
˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒. ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒. ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒. ⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆. ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒. ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒. ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒.
a/n: this is a lil twist on the sweetheart!reader x in-ho trope and i think it’s pretty cute! i’m still a sucker for lee byung hum, send help.
#frontman#frontman x reader#frontman x you#hwang inho#inho x reader#inho x you#squid game#squidgame season 2#lee byung hun x you#lee byung hun x reader
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Aim for the Sky Part 34 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Maverick makes time to have a conversation with Bradley, but you've already lost faith in him. Your words hurt him more than anything else could.
Warnings: Angst, adult language, body image, DILF Roo, pregnancy, jealousy
Length: 3500 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.
When the mattress dipped and you felt the bedding shift around your legs, you opened your eyes to find Bradley climbing out of bed. The room was still dark, but his face was illuminated by his phone screen. The baby was thumping against your tender insides, making you wince, and your husband was playing around on his phone in the middle of the night. Or texting someone.
"What are you doing?" you croaked. Bradley's gaze snapped toward your face, and he leaned down to pull the covers to your shoulder.
"Uh, I need to head to base a little early," he whispered, tracing your cheek with his thumb. "To meet with Mav."
"What time is it?" you asked, rolling toward him to see his phone.
"Almost six," he replied, kissing your forehead as he tipped his screen away. "I love you. Try to get some more sleep."
You swallowed hard, rolling away from him as he started pulling his uniform from the closet. The rustle of fabric set your nerves on edge, and you squeezed your eyes shut as he got dressed. Maybe he thought you fell asleep again, because he didn't say another word before he left the room. But you were pretty sure you heard him stop in Rose's nursery before leaving the house.
Now you were wide awake and alone. Your phone told you it was 5:28 which was completely absurd. Neither you nor Bradley ever got to base before 8:00 unless you were working your ass off on a project.
He used Maverick as his excuse which seemed ridiculous. Bradley wasn't in the middle of training for a special mission which would require extra hours before daylight. And he had to know Maverick would only cover for him for so long.
You sat up and laughed miserably. Your husband was lying to you. And you thought you knew what he was lying about. Tears filled your eyes as your hand rested on your belly where your younger daughter was moving around. Why was Bradley doing this to the three of you?
It wasn't like you couldn't tell how bad you looked at the moment. You knew it. You were bloated and chunky and broken out, but it was at least half his fault you were pregnant again in the first place. And you would make it a priority to get in shape after she was born. You would.
Your fingers were curled around the sheets, trying to keep yourself on your side of the bed, but you crawled toward Bradley's nightstand anyway. The lamp was too bright, taking your eyes a beat to adjust. You yanked the drawer open which offered almost no insight to anything except his Nugget Notebook with the pink and blue striped cover. But then you saw something underneath it.
You grabbed the second notebook, this one bright pink, and pulled it from the drawer. Only the first few pages were covered in his writing, but you soaked the words up greedily.
To my second daughter, you are the third love of my life. I realize that sounds a little unfair, like you're coming in third place, but I promise that's not that case. It's only because I met your mom and your sister first. You're not even here yet, but I already know I love you just as much as I love them. And I can't wait to meet you, too.
Before I get carried away, let me introduce myself. I'm your dad. It's my job to love you and take care of you. I'm not perfect, but I love you so much, I'll always try my best to be here for anything you need. To be honest, I never expected to have a family at all. And to be extra honest, you were a bit of a surprise. But a very good surprise. My favorite kind of surprise. I can't wait to teach you everything I know, which isn't much, but I do know how to love my three girls.
"How?" you gasped, dropping the notebook back into the drawer. You sobbed into Bradley's pillow, unable to make sense of this. How was the man who wrote notebook passages to his children the same man who was sneaking around behind your back. With Indigo. It simply did not make sense, but both versions of him seemed to exist at the same time. And somehow you were the one who was more at odds with yourself than he was with himself.
You could feel the love he had for his daughters. It was so obvious. He was so good with Rose, and he seemed excited about having two kids.
You weren't sure if you'd be able to kick him out. You didn't know if you could leave him. If push came to shove, you didn't know if you could be that strong. You wished he wasn't making you consider it at all.
--------------------------
"Oh, God."
Bradley was awake as soon as Maverick replied to his text at five in the morning. He'd barely been able to sleep anyway, but when Maverick told Bradley he was heading to Lemoore in a few hours for a meeting, he begged his godfather to meet with him first.
Now Bradley was sitting in his office in a silent building waiting for any help he could get. As far as he had worked out, Indigo had been devouring his extra attention for weeks for a less savory reason than he originally thought. All the times she invited him out for a drink left him shaking his head while he stared at the wedding photo perched in his desk.
He never tried to hide the fact that he was married. He fucking flaunted it. You were perfect; why wouldn't he? If someone else thought they had a gorgeous wife? Ha, Bradley could lay it down in spades. Someone else claimed their wife was smart? Well, his was a goddamn genius. Someone wanted to brag about their kids? All he had to do was pull up a photo of Rose, and he had everyone around him swooning.
He found it easier to make small talk about his family than anything else these days, and he was sure Indigo knew he was married before he even left Texas to fly back to San Diego. It still seemed unlikely she wanted to sleep with him, but he wasn't going to deny that Nat was usually right about these things.
"Oh, God," Bradley groaned for probably the tenth time since he woke up. He wanted to rewind and go back to Texas and never select Indigo in the first place.
But would that have been fair? To leave her behind when she was the best? When she was clearly one of the pilots who should be moving forward with new programs? It wasn't like she ever touched him. Other than persistently inviting him for drinks and showing up for all of his office hours, she never made an advance. But now he was uncomfortable. There was something about the way she always looked at him that.....yeah, Nat was right.
But if Bradley couldn't handle his first assignment in his new position, how was he supposed to prove he could do this going forward?
There was a knock on his already open door, and Maverick stood there looking perplexed. "Bradley? What did you need that couldn't wait until later this week?"
Bradley groaned again as he stood. "Can you shut the door?"
"Sure."
Maverick let it slip from his fingers, and Bradley waited until the echo of the door closing gave way to silence. He could feel his godfather's gaze on his face as his eyes closed. He swallowed hard, not wanting to waste the other man's time, but now that he was here, he felt so stupid.
"I need your help," Bradley rasped, voice hoarse as his eyes opened. "It's work related."
"Okay," Maverick replied, voice between a statement and a question. "What can I do?"
Bradley's fingers curled around the edge of his desk as he looked down at his phone sitting there. "Uh...Mav, this is embarrassing."
When Maverick took a step closer, he reached across the desk to cuff Bradley on the shoulder. "Just hit me with it."
Bradley took a long breath and let it out slowly. "There's another officer who... well, it's been brought to my attention that she..." He let go of his desk and rubbed his fingertips against his eyes. "There's a chance my wife thinks something's going on between me and another officer on base. One who reports to me."
Maverick's expression gave nothing away, but he shifted his weight from one foot to the other before taking a step away from Bradley. "To be clear, Bradley, are you asking me to help you hide an indiscretion from your wife?"
Bradley's head tilted slightly. "Huh?" he grunted, thoughts already swirling around his mind so rapidly, it took him a few seconds to catch up. "What the fuck, Mav? No!" he gasped. "An indiscretion?" He could barely even say the word as he shook his head. "No. God, no! Nothing happened! Nothing is ever going to happen!"
He realized he was shouting when Maverick's hands flew into the air in surrender. "Okay. Alright. I hear you loud and clear. I just needed to be sure I understand what we're dealing with here. Why don't you have a seat and explain everything to me?"
Bradley was raking his fingers through his hair as he dropped down into his chair. "It's Lieutenant Jeffries. Indigo." Her intense blue eyes filled his mind as he shook his head. "Phoenix and Hangman pointed out that she..." He paused and glanced at the ceiling. "This is so embarrassing, Mav, but they said it seems like she wants to sleep with me."
"Hmm."
When Maverick hummed and went silent, Bradley said, "I know how ridiculous it sounds."
"It doesn't," his godfather replied immediately. "This sort of thing happens sometimes. You said nothing happened? You should keep your distance moving forward, and if she contacts you outside of work or does anything inappropriate, we can write it up."
Bradley groaned miserably, unlocked his phone, and pushed it across the desk with his messages open. "She did text me outside of work."
While Maverick reached for the phone, he said, "Did you give her your number?"
"No. Why would I do that?" he replied. "But honestly, it's not hard to get access to that kind of information. I didn't think much of it the first time."
Maverick shrugged. "Well, what did she text-" His eyes grew wide when he looked down at the phone, his cheeks turning pink as he was surely looking at the photo that had been in Bradley's messages for less than twelve hours.
"Yeah," Bradley croaked. "She sent that last night."
"But she texted you before that. When you never explicitly gave her your number." Maverick looked up at him, shaking his head. "Bradley, what were you thinking? She seems to have some sort of agenda. You should have come to me immediately after the first message."
Bradley stood, stomach lurching. His marriage, career, and reputation were somehow all on the line, and he hadn't even done anything. He couldn't help but think of his parents and the fact that his dad probably never put his mom through this kind of shit when she was seven months postpartum.
"An agenda?" Bradley whispered. "Shit, Mav. This is the kind of thing that happens on carriers. Not on base. I thought this was something men did way more than women when they wanted to cheat."
Maverick handed his phone back across the desk with the photo of Indigo open. Bradley swiped out of the text thread immediately, sick to his stomach.
"You work in a high stakes field where women routinely outperform men. They are capable of anything you are."
"I know that!" Bradley snapped. "But I'm married! I'm not looking for that shit. I never let on that I was."
"Oh, you sweet summer child," Maverick sighed, checking his watch. "Literally," he added as he dug his own phone from his pocket. "If Lieutenant Jeffries is sending you photos and playing coy, she doesn't care about your wife."
Bradley winced. "Fuck."
"Yeah," Maverick grunted, taking a few steps toward the door. "And your wife is pregnant and vulnerable, and now I'm going to have to tell Admiral Simpson that I'll be late getting to Lemoore. Follow me. And bring your phone."
-------------------------------------
Bradley was late getting home. This was happening almost every night now, and you were hanging on by a thread as Rose screamed in your arms. She was fed, but she always seemed to prefer the way Bradley burped her over your technique.
"He's not here," you said through gritted teeth. "I don't know where he is or when he'll be back. I just need you to burp so you can go to sleep."
Your texts had gone unanswered. You weren't sure if Bradley had been in the cafeteria at lunchtime, because you hid in your office. Dinnertime had come and gone, and his cold plate of food was currently sitting on the kitchen counter.
"I don't know where he is," you repeated to your daughter while her younger sister did somersaults against your bladder. Rose's sobs finally started to taper off as you rubbed your hand firmly against her back. She finally burped, and that seemed to do the trick. Her fists curled up next to her face as she yawned. You barely had enough time to change her into a clean diaper and pajamas before her eyes were closed.
You were mentally, physically, and emotionally drained. You stood in her nursery, watching her sleep while you decided you needed to say something to your husband tonight. There was no way you could keep punishing yourself for not being enough. If he wanted someone else, you deserved to have him say it to your face.
But when you heard him open the front door thirty minutes later, your heart lurched into your stomach at the sight of him. You'd known how handsome he was since the day you met him, and he only seemed to get better looking with age. Each year added more silver to his hair and laugh lines to his face, but he was undeniably sexy.
Today, however, he looked exhausted, and your brain went wild with awful ideas. What had he gotten up to? Why was he so late? The top buttons of his uniform were undone, and his hair was mussed. He was staring down at his phone in his hand while you stood silently at the end of the hallway, terrified of what he was looking at.
Suddenly everything you'd been holding inside for weeks was bubbling up to the surface, and you were done holding it back. You cleared your throat, and his gaze snapped up to your face, phone hanging in his hand by his side.
"Hey, Sweetheart. Is Rosie already asleep?"
You nodded, taking each step slowly until you were standing right in front of him. When he reached for you, his fingers skimmed your shoulder before you pushed his hand away. Those beautiful, brown eyes you loved so much went wide, but he didn't look surprised. Not at all.
"Why are you so late?" you snapped. "And don't feed me some bullshit about office hours, because I know your schedule. Or, at least, I know what they are supposed to be."
Bradley licked his lips, gesturing between the two of you with his phone. "I had to take care of something important with Maverick."
You wanted to laugh in his face. "You're really going to use the same excuse as this morning? Another meeting with Maverick? What, one was at the crack of dawn and the other was after dinnertime? I've been texting you for hours, Bradley."
You watched his Adam's apple bob. "I didn't have my phone with me for part of the day."
"You have it now!" you laughed sardonically, pointing at his hand just in time to see his phone light up.
It was her. You saw her name there. Indigo. She was texting your husband well after work hours, and you could already feel the tears stinging your eyes.
You grabbed his phone before he seemed to realize what was happening. Your fingers shook as you entered his passcode to find it was still your birthday. He wasn't even trying to hide this from you. He wasn't trying to take his phone back. As you braced yourself for what you were about to see, you whispered, "What the fuck is going on with her?"
His brown eyes were so sincere, and once again, you couldn't understand how this was the same man who wrote journals for his unborn children. "Nothing," he replied, voice taking on a tone of defeated exhaustion. "There's nothing going on."
Your eyes dipped down to his phone to find not one, but two flirtatious selfies. One new one, and one that was sent last night while he was working out in the garage. Indigo's eyes stared back at you from the screen, mocking you, making a fool of your family.
You were crying. You didn't want Bradley to see you cry right now, but you couldn't stop. "This doesn't look like nothing. And you didn't tell her to stop."
Now he looked panicked, eyes wide as he saw the photo on his phone in your hand. "Okay, I know this looks bad, but I reported it, I swear! I've never been alone with her behind closed doors. You can call Mav!"
Violent sobs shook your body, and when Bradley slowly let his hand settle on your arm, you shook him free. "You expect me to believe nothing is going on? When you get home late every day? When she told me that it's no wonder you prefer her since I let myself go?" you gasped, swiping at your tears.
"What?" Bradley barked as you blindly handed his offending phone back to him. "She said that to you?"
You nodded miserably, taking a step away from him. "I don't want to know if you said that to her, or if she formed her own opinion after spending time with you. And I don't want to know if you're fucking her or just considering it. But I want you out of the house."
Bradley looked like you just slapped him. His mouth was hanging open, brow creased while you sobbed. "You want me out?" he whispered, hand going up to rake his fingers through his hair.
"Yes," you squeaked, trying to stay strong not just for yourself, but for your daughters as well. Every word hurt as you forced them out of your mouth, but you had to say them. "Go. Until I can talk to my parents about canceling the sale of their house. I'll transfer to Annapolis. Take the girls with me."
Bradley closed the distance to you, tears already pooling in his eyes as he dropped to his knees. His lips found your belly, and you sobbed harder as he wrapped his hands around your hips. "No. You can't," he said so softly, you could barely hear him. When he looked up at your face, you almost believed he would never be capable of hurting you. "Baby Girl, you can't leave me. I need you. I need my girls."
When you stepped out of his grasp, his arms fell limply to his sides. You'd never seen him look so miserable before, and you had to stand firm instead of reaching for his hands.
"Find somewhere else to sleep."
The implications of your own words stung your heart, and you had to watch him slowly get to his feet. He kissed your forehead, and your eyes blurred with fresh tears when he went down the hallway to Rose's room. Less than a minute passed, but each second felt like a day. You had plenty of time to tell him the truth. That you didn't want him to leave. That you couldn't blame him for wanting someone else, and you still needed him as much as he said he needed you.
When he reappeared, you pressed your lips together even as he kissed your damp cheek. "I love you," he rasped. "I'm never going to stop loving you. I'll figure out some way to make you believe me."
You watched him retreat to the front door with his keys, shoulders sagging as he gave you one last lingering look before slipping out into the darkness.
------------------------------------
Ouch. Ouch. Okay. I want BG to believe Roo beyond any doubt, and I think I know how to make that happen. Please stay tuned. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
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#bradley bradshaw x reader#rooster fanfiction#rooster imagine#rooster x you#rooster x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw imagine#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw x you#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#bradley bradshaw fic#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick fanfiction#top gun imagine#top gun maverick imagine#roosterforme#aim for the sky
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paparazzi catches actress!reader’s baby bump
masterlist | actress!reader masterlist
this is based off an ask that i thought was just too cute to pass up and takes place in the distant future lol. as far as fics go, this is probably the farthest i will write in the realm of pregnancy, ie i wont write about babies and stuff. warnings for pregnancy + nausea/vomiting
Y/n was beginning to feel cooped up, growing tired of staying in Drew and hers’ home. It wasn’t that she hated her company (Drew and Charleston), it was more that she was starting to get annoyed by the monotonous alternation between watching tv, reading over scripts, and scrolling through her phone. Maybe it was just pregnancy hormones, maybe it was just good old boredom. Either way, she needed to get out.
The first trimester of her pregnancy had been rough, y/n often waking up to waves of nausea that stranded her in the bathroom for hours, huddled over the toilet. The process of pregnancy was already stressful within itself, and adding the public’s opinions would only make it harder, so Drew and y/n decided to keep it between themselves for as long as possible. Once y/n was far enough along, they started telling their friends and family, the love reserved for their child that had previously been kept between just the two of them growing each and every day.
“Drew!” Y/n shouted as she stood from her spot on the couch with a groan. Drew came into the room quickly, a worried look on his face as he quickly looked her up and down. Now that she was well into her second semester, y/n’s bump had really begun to grow, making it a bit more difficult to hide with the baggy clothes she’d worn during the earliest stages of her pregnancy.
“What? Are you ok?” Drew quickly came to her side, a hand resting on her stomach. As much as she loved Drew, she had to admit that her pregnancy had turned him into even worse of a nervous wreck than he had been before. Every movement or sound that could even be construed as “weird” had Drew checking on her, a gentle hand roaming to her growing stomach.
“Yes,” y/n giggled as she tugged her cropped t-shirt down. “I’m gonna take Charleston out on a walk and stop at Claire’s.”
“Oh, just give me a second—” Drew scrambled back into their bedroom as y/n tugged on a light jacket, checking in the mirror that her exposed stomach was adequately covered despite the warmth outside.
“I’m fine, I can go by myself.” Y/n sighed, tugging on a baseball cap and grabbing Charleston’s leash, the dog excitedly trotting around her legs.
“Nope, I’m coming with you.” Drew emerged from the bedroom, taking Charleston's leash and pressing a quick kiss to y/n’s before reaching down to help her put on her shoes.
“Drew, I can do things by myself.” Y/n said, placing her hands on her hips as Drew tied her tennis shoes.
“I know. I’m just tryna treat my girls right.” Drew grinned, pressing a quick kiss to her growing bump before straightening up.
“You’re so convinced they’re gonna be a girl.” Y/n laughed lightly as Drew opened the front door, Charleston quickly jumping outside into the Carolina sun. Y/n stepped out next, Drew locking the door behind them as y/n stretched her legs with a groan, trying her best to minimize her pregnancy waddling as they began down the sidewalk.
The two of them walked side by side, Charleston trotting in front of them as they chatted. Once they reached down town, the streets grew more busy, filled with tourists and locals milling between the shops. Every so often they’d hear a giggle or see a wave, a fan noticing them but too afraid to approach, before carrying on with their walk. They continued down the sidewalk until they finally reached Claire’s, the two of them walking up to the window.
“Hey guys, long time no see!” The barista greeted, taking their orders and chatting with them as they waited. As they stood, y/n could feel herself growing warm from the unrelenting Carolina sun. Too engrossed in her conversation with Drew and the barista, as well as Charleston’s milling about, y/n didn’t even think anything as she unzipped the front of her jacket, the loose fabric billowing in the soft breeze. The fans who had been waiting in line behind them, however, let out small, shocked gasps before speaking excitedly to each other. Y/n turned at the noise, smiling lightly before turning back to Drew, who handed her her drink.
“Thank you so much, have a good rest of your day.” Y/n thanked the barista, Drew grabbing his drink. Y/n took a sip, a satisfied groan leaving her lips that caused the two of them to start laughing, Drew’s hand finding its spot around her waist. His fingers instantly met the warmth of her skin, Drew’s eyes widening as he looked down to see her exposed stomach. Y/n followed suit, looking down before hastily wrapping her jacket tightly around her body, only making her bump more prominent through the thin fabric.
“Shit, I wasn’t even thinking! I was hot and—” Y/n groaned, chewing at her lip as she looked around frantically, praying nobody had noticed.
“Hey, hey it’s ok.” Drew said, his hand soothing gently down her side before handing her his coffee. She took it, sighing deeply as he quickly reached down and zipped her jacket back up.
“No it isn’t! We were going to make this a whole reveal, surprise thing and I just fucking ruined it! Those girls in line definitely saw and—” y/n rambled, running her free hand through her hair messily.
“Hey, look at me.” Drew said, stopping the two of them in their tracks as he pulled her off to the side of the sidewalk. Charleston looked up between them curiously as y/n felt tears beginning to sting at her eyes, her mind racing at a million miles a minute.
“It’s ok, a’ight? I don’t care about that, I just care that you’re ok and that baby’s ok.” Drew whispered, his hands smoothing down her arms.
“Are you ok?” Drew asked.
“Yes, but—-” y/n sighed.
“Is baby ok?” Drew said, his hands moving to rest on the sides of her stomach. Y/n looked at him, a small smile on her face.
“Yes.” Y/n nodded. Drew grinned, pressing a kiss to the top of her face before pulling her into his side.
“That’s all we need to worry about, ok baby?” Drew said, his words helping to calm down y/n’s pounding heart. She was ok, the baby was ok. That was all that mattered, not the whispers online or judgement of others.
“Thanks, Drew.” Y/n sighed, resting her head on Drew’s shoulder. He pressed one more kiss to her head before they continued their walk home, the secret they had been keeping now seeming to weigh a little less with each step.
Once they finally made it back to their house, y/n sat back down on the couch with a groan, her feet aching from all the walking and standing. Drew sat down next to her, taking her feet into his lap as he began to rub them gently. Y/n smiled, taking her phone out to countless notifications from friends, family, and her team on just about every possible platform.
“Well, shit.” Y/n sighed, opening one of the notifications and showing it to Drew.
Drew looked at her phone, nodding slowly before his eyes flicked back to y/n’s.
“At least you look hot in it.” Drew said with a shrug before returning his focus back to where he massaged y/n’s feet. Y/n laughed, kicking his leg lightly.
“Well at least I don’t have to worry about dressing like Adam Sandler to get coffee anymore.” Y/n grinned, Drew lifting his head and smiling back at her.
Later that afternoon, after talking with their publicists, the two of them decided it was finally time to make things official. With a final deep breath, they hit post:
#drew starkey#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey x actress!reader#actress!reader#drew starkey x actress!reader social media au#drew starkey social media au#drew starkey x reader social media au
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Birth Ordinance
The following story contains: explicit birth, birth denial, twin birth, and enough information about Mormon temples they'd be upset with me. But hey, it was my experience too and I have every right to it. Some creative liberties were taken with the temple stuff. It's my first attempt at sharing something like this. So I'm happy to get feedback.
Story behind cut:
Mariah groaned, reaching down and wrapping around her large stomach as the car went over a bump and into the Mormon Temple’s parking lot. Her husband, Mathew, glanced over.
“Almost there, honey,” he said. “Just keep breathing, and soon God will bless us with a pair of new children.”
The latest contraction eased, and Mariah eased back into her seat, breathing hard as her stomach visibly relaxed under her hand. The new prophet, President Oaks, had revealed that there was a new covenant and ritual that women had to participate in during the birth of their children. It was still new enough Mariah didn’t know anyone who had participated in it, but the prophet spoke for god so she and her family would obey. Surely a birth (or two) in God’s house surrounded by holy men would be far more blessed than a birth in a hospital surrounded by doctors who had been corrupted by fake-science like vaccines, gender ideology, dinosaurs, and other such satanic lies.
The car came to a stop, and Mathew got out, dressed in his nice suit. Then he came around and opened the door for Mariah. As she stood, another contraction seized her. She clutched the door handle and moaned through the pain, curling in on her stomach instinctively.
“Come on, hon,” Mathew said, grabbing her hand. “We’re gonna be late.” Then he pulled, dragging her up out of the car with zero warning.
Mariah stumbled, still mid-contraction. Her back screamed as it took on the weight of her twins. Mathew managed to catch her, as her legs gave out, keeping her from face planting in the temple parking lot.
“Woah careful there,” Mathew said, smiling, completely oblivious. He did however stay long enough for the contraction to end and for Mariah to get her footing back. The shoes she wore had a slight heel to them. She thought it wouldn’t matter too much, and she didn’t have anything completely flat that was nice enough for the temple, but the way her hips ached, she already fiercely regretted her choice. Even more so when she looked up and saw just how far away the temple was. Her husband had parked in the furthest parking stall from the main doors.
“Go ahead and start walking,” Mathew said, “I’ll grab our temple bags.”
With a sigh, Mariah began the trek, pressing one hand to her back to counteract the growing pain there. Everything felt strange down below, both open and tight at once, her hips oddly shaky, which led to a distinct waddle in her walk. It took almost no time at all for Mathew to catch up to her, both temple bags slung over his shoulder.
They made it to the temple doors without further issue, the massive white building standing out starkly against the blue sky, stain glass windows gleaming. A patron exiting opened the door for them, smiling and greeting them. Then their eyes strayed to Mariah’s belly. “Congratulations,” the man said. “Are you excited about the new revelation from our prophet?”
“We are so lucky to be some of the first to experience it,” Mathew replied, proudly resting his hand on Mariah’s belly.
Mariah didn’t say anything, anxiety twisting in her chest. She just wished she knew what she was getting into. Neither man noticed her silence however, and exchange a few more quick pleasantries before they continued inside.
Once inside, both Mathew and Mariah produced their temple recommends from their wallets, then Mariah produced her special recommend for a live ordinance, given to her after extensive interviews with both her bishop and her stake president to prove she was worthy. Another contraction came as they checked over her paperwork. She grabbed onto the desk, circling her hips and breathing hard, feeling the pressure increase.
“Has your water broken yet?” the man at the desk asked.
Mariah shook her head, unable to say much else in the midst of the contraction.
Mathew answered for her. “She’s been having regular contractions for the past two hours, one minute on, four minutes off. We’ve come as instructed. And we called ahead.”
“Yes, yes,” the desk worker said, then he handed her a little piece of paper and a pin. “We’ve got your guide waiting for you. Just put this on and head into the main room. She’ll meet you inside.”
Gratefully, Mariah took the paper and pinned it onto her dress with shaking hands, then she and Mathew headed past the white wall of the reception area and into the main temple area. Green plants and pastel green and gold couches lined the walls and filled the center space of the area. A woman and man saw her name tag and came over, shaking both Mathew and Mariah’s hand, and introducing themselves as Sister and Brother Wallace.
Mathew handed Mariah her temple bag, and then was swept away to the men’s changing room by Brother Wallace, leaving Mariah with Sister Wallace, who led her to the other side of the foyer where the sister’s dressing room was.
“We’ve already set aside one of the larger dressing rooms for you,” Sister Wallace said. “There will be a white jumpsuit in there. Put it on, just like if you were getting ready for a baptism for the dead. Then I’ll take you into an instructional room for a short video.”
Mariah nodded, and entered into her dressing room. Though it was definitely larger than the normal stalls, it was still small, barely enough room for her to move around with her massive stomach. She had just enough to to place her bag on a small wooden bench that protruded from the metal doors before another contraction hit. She hissed and groaned, working through it. Once it was through, she awkwardly reached down grabbed the hem of her dress which was significantly closer to her fingers than it would have been pre pregnancy, and dragged it up over her massive belly. It was a bit of a struggle, but soon it was off. Next went her wired bra and her white pregnancy garments, which were soaked with sweat.
Not caring much, she threw the clothes and her old shoes in a locker, then began the momentous task of putting on the silky zip-up garments which barely fit over her massive belly, the tiny sports bra that did very little to contain her leaking breasts, and a large zip up jumper than definitely was not made for a pregnant woman. She barely got the zipper up half her chest, leaving the white undergarments visible. As she sat down to put on the grippy socks, breathing heavily from the effort of changing clothes, another contraction took her she groaned, practically collapsing the rest of the way onto the little wooden bench. The unyielding solidness pressed against her privates which felt much more exposed in the tight white jumpsuit, zipper straining.
Sister Wallace knocked midway through the contraction, asking if she needed any help. Once the contraction released her, Mariah leaned over awkwardly and undid the latch. No way she was getting on those stupid socks without help, not in her condition. Wallace helped her easily enough, getting the soaks on her swollen feet, then helped her up.
The instruction room wasn’t far, and she was sat down in a cushy chair, Wallace at her side, and a video of the prophet showed up. “In order to ensure our families our celestial, God has revealed a plan for his children. As the child is being birthed, the mother will go through each of the ordinances on the path to the celestial kingdom, doing them in proxy for their child. That way, no matter what path the child takes in life, they will already have their work done for them. It is like baptisms for the dead, but for those who have not yet come into this world.”
Mariah stared as yet another contraction hit, the pressure building. The heavy ball of her first child’s head sitting in her hips. All the ordinances? But the baby was coming soon, and that would take hours!
“Best get a move on then, right?” the sister said.
The elevator was broken, so they had to take the stairs down to the font. Midway down another contraction hit, and Mariah was caught with legs on separate stairs, clinging to the bronze railing for dear life as the pressure mounted, and mounted and mounted. She needed to push, she realized suddenly. But no, that couldn’t be right. Her water hadn’t broken yet. And she had to get through these ordinances so her children would make it to heaven with her!
Mariah gasped in relief as the wave of pain eased away. Already her white suit was near-see through with sweat in some areas. But Wallace didn’t seem to mind, she just grabbed Mariah’s arm and helped her hobble awkwardly down the rest of the stairs, her legs forced just a bit further apart than they had been earlier.
Teens waiting to be baptized stared openly as Mariah hobbled down the hall, one hand on her back, the other trying to support her massive twin stomach. They walked into the main font, a white pool on top of twelve golden oxen, the air heavy with the scent of chlorine, then waited for the teen who was currently being dunked to finish their set of baptisms. Mathew was already waiting on the other side, dressed in a similar white jumpsuit. He smiled and waved, his escort at his side as well. Once the teen finished, him and his adult baptizer exited the font and were handed fluffy white towels, then Mariah and Mathew entered.
The water was warm, a welcome relief to her straining body, and Mariah couldn’t help but groan in relief as Mathew walked her to the center of the pool. He took her wrist in his hand, holding her hand up by her face, then held his right hand to a square behind her. “Sister Johnson,” he prayed. “Having been commissioned by Jesus Christ, I baptize you for and behalf of, Nephi Johnson, who is not yet born, in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Ghost, Amen.”
In the midst of his prayer, another contraction wrapped its way around her belly. As he put his hand to her back and pressed her down into the water, the pain and pressure mounted. She tried to scream with the pain, but water flooded into her mouth. Down, down, deeper into the water, as her husband tried to get her whole massive body completely submerged. Then she was up again, spitting up water, ears ringing, barely aware her husband was saying the prayer again, until she was plunged unsuspectingly back into the water.
As her knees bent, something popped inside her, and the pressure was gone. She came back up spluttering, wiped away the stinging chlorine from her eyes and stared down at the red tendrils spread from her into the holy water.
She blushed, but Mathew didn’t seem to notice. He pulled her to him instead, then helped her back out of the font. The stairs were slippery. A towel was wrapped around her as the cool air made her tremble in her wet clothes.
Then she found herself in a shower, her legs spread, panting, struggling to get her white jumpsuit off while the shower spread the chlorine off of her. She managed to get the zipper undone with shaking hands, but she couldn’t get the fabric off her hips without closing her legs, and that just didn’t seem possible. Groaning with the effort, she put her legs together despite her body screaming at her, and pushed the suit down. Then came the too small bra, which clung to her chest, and then the zip up garments, which present similar problems. Once they were down around her feet, she eased down, groaning as her necked butt rested on the plastic shower seat, to try and kick her clothes off the rest of the way.
As she curled forward to try and get them off, another contraction struck. She groaned panting, trying to spread her legs to give the baby’s massive head room, but couldn’t. Her feet were caught by the restrictive material bound around them. She panicked, reaching blindly downward, kicking frantically, trying to get a leg free, because she needed her legs free.
Finally a leg slipped free, and she eagerly spread her legs, pushing hard as the contraction ebbed, thankful for the warmth of the shower water dripping over her. Perhaps I should just stay and birth in here, she thought as the water cleansed her sweat. But no, she had to follow through. Had to make sure her children were saved.
Heaving herself to her feet she grabbed her towel from her hook, did her best to dry herself off, then tried to wrap it around her. It was made for teenagers, so it wasn’t the best modesty shield for a full grown, very pregnant woman, but she got the important parts covered. Barely.
Sister Wallace met her outside the shower, all smiles, and handed her a white poncho. “This is a shield,” she said. “We’ve brought it back for innititories, go ahead and put it on.”
On the plus side, it was just a giant rectangle with a hole in the head, incredibly easy to put on compared to the earlier clothes, on the other hand, Mariah was left nearly completely exposed, the fabric hanging down only to mid-thigh in the front because of her massive belly, and left completely open on the sides.
Those attired, with shaking legs, she was led into a room and told to sit down in a chair. Mathew and Brother Wallace awaited her, they placed their hands on her head as another contraction began and began the confirmation prayer. Mariah tried not to moan as her legs spread apart, her massive belly sinking between them, covering her parts as her clothes seemed to do very little of that. She couldn’t help but push, and felt the massive baby within move further down. The contraction let up, then another came, and she pushed with it again, trying to stay quite so she wouldn’t disrupt the prayer.
Gosh, the baby was right there, right between her legs. It needed to be born. But she’d been grabbed by the arm and yanked to her feet before she could fully process the change. “Hurry now,” Sister Wallace said.
Practically naked, she was led through the temple, and back to the stairs. “No,” she moaned, leaning forward as another contraction started and she felt her nethers begin to sting. Her hand shot to her pussy, although she wasn’t sure if her intention was to support the baby or hold it in.
The contraction ended before she had to make up her mind, the stinging easing as the baby slipped back inside.
“It’s coming,” Mariah moaned.
Sister Wallace frowned. “Hold it in, or it will never be able to be in the celestial kingdom with you.”
Nodding, Mariah steeled herself, staring up at the spiral staircase. She’d do this.
Up and up she went, one stair at a time. Each time her leg went up and separated to reach the next step, she could feel the sting of the baby settling against her holds, then she’d bring her feet together and the stinging would ease. One contraction stopped her midway up, and she breathed hard. Do not push, do not push, she chanted to herself, as she pressed her hand against the head, supporting it, keeping it inside.
The top of the stairs opened to the women’s locker room, and inside that the initiatory. Another sister met her inside a curtain and told her to sit in the small waiting chair. Wish shaking legs, she sat, purposely tilting her pelvis so the chair put counter pressure on her baby, keeping it inside. Her hand when she finally pulled it away, was wet.
“Sister, having authority, I wash you preparatory to receiving your anointings for and behalf of Nephi Johnson, who is yet to be born, that youmay become clean from the sins of this generation,” the sister in this room said. Then with wet hands she placed her hand on Mariah’s head, blessing it, then her ears, then her eyes, then her nose, then her lips. A strange game of reverse head, shoulders knees and toes, each body part its own blessing.
“Your neck, that it may bear up your head properly,” the woman said, then she reached down inside the shield, resting her cold wet hands on Mariah’s shoulders. “Your shoulders that they may bear up the burdens that shall be placed thereon.” Then the hands moved further down, onto her back, then they slipped and rested on Mariah’s ample, aching breast, blessed to be a receptacle of pure and virtuous principles.
A contraction came as the hands rested on her stomach, and she zoned out, focusing on putting her weight against the head of the baby, keeping it inside as she tried and failed to not push. The hands were back on her contracting stomach, blessing her loins that “they may be fruitful and multiply and replenish the earth, that you might have joy in your posterity.” It was all so much. She needed to give birth, she needed them to stop touching her.
She tilted her hips, lifting them up from the chair, and pushed. The crown grew. Her lips stung. Then another set of hands rested on her head and shoved her down. The growing crown hit the chair and was shoved back into her. She screamed as the second officiant sealed the blessings of the washing upon her.
Her ears rang through the next prayer, her body lost in the need to push. But then the touching started up again, though this time instead of cold water, it was slick oil. The anointing, preparatory to becoming a king and a high priest unto God.
Slick oil open her head, nose, her eyes, her neck, her breast, her back, her stomach, her loins, her feet. The hands lingered on her massive belly, caressing it, slathering it in slick oil.
Her body, frustrated with the denial, initiated another contraction. It seemed stronger than the others, desperate. And Mariah didn’t even try to stop it this time. As the hands rested on her head to seal the anointing upon her, she pushed. But she couldn’t get off the chair, couldn’t get it to move, the hands held her steady, pushing her down into the chair. A whine escaped her as the contraction ended and the baby remained just there.
Instructions were given, about the garments to wear, and then a new name was placed upon Nephi, though he hadn’t even officially received his first name.
It was over, finally. She could move on to the next step. Except—
It started over again, with the blessing. With the wet touching. Twins. She was having twins. She had to do everything twice. She gave in to the touching, groaning as the hands caressed her breasts and belly with both water and oil a second time. The touch turning from foreign to comforting as she searched for anything grounding, anything positive to help her through this.
Three contractions later, the babies still safely within, the initiatory was over. Mariah stood from the chair, legs spread wide to accommodate the head which lurched forward as soon as she stood. She barely wobbled out of the room, catching Sister Wallace’s shoulders to stead herself and instantly crouching and barring down.
The head eased forward, the stinging increased. The head was massive. Twins were supposed to be small. How was she supposed to get this out?
Then the contraction eased and the head went back inside, leaving her panting and sweaty, but with no progress to show for her efforts.
“Oh dear,” Sister Wallace said. “You seem quite far along. Don’t worry. I’ll help you get dressed for the next step. I’ll be with you each step of the way.”
Then Mariah was forced to walk the short way to the dressing room, gasping for breath, feeling the weight of the head between her thighs, her hips protesting the constant movement while being spread so far apart.
“We have special garments to help in situations like this,” Sister Wallace said. “Step in.”
Blind with pain, Mariah managed to get a foot up, then the next one as Sister Wallace pulled on some sort of white undergarment. It was a bit of a wrestle, but finally it was on, tight as can be and pure white, nestled just under her belly. Mariah paid very little attention as Sister Wallace put on her white temple dress, her long white socks, and white shoes, focusing on not passing out or throwing up from the pain.
“You’ve just got the endowment left,” Sister Wallace said, patting her on the shoulder.
If the endowment ceremony wasn’t two hours long, if she didn’t have to do it twice, that would have been more reassuring.
At least she didn’t have to climb another stairs, as she was led into the endowment room, women on one side, men on the other, the seats full except the one at the front nearest the white alter that sat in the front of the room, a man standing behind it, ready to officiate.
Mathew sat in the seat closest to the alter on the men’s side of the aisle.
They were to be the representative couple. No. That meant standing up and kneeling and. . . gosh, how was this possible? Why would god ask this of her? No. Obedience. It was a test of obedience. To prove she and her family deserved the blessings. She would do it. She would prove she was strong enough.
With Sister Wallace's help, she waddled down the aisle, legs spread, crotch stinging, and settled into the front seat. Instructions sounded on the speaker, then the movie began. It was a movie she’d seen hundreds of times, about the creation of the world and Adam and Eve, so she quickly lost herself in the pain of the contractions. As each one came, she tried not to push, breathing through it as the head pushed through her tender folds, then eased back in as the contraction ended, too big to get all the way through or stay out without her help.
She was jerked from her pained breathing and the rhythm of the heading coming in and out, by a tap on her shoulder. Sister Wallace sat beside her, pointing toward the altar where Mathew waited, the rest of the audience waiting impatiently, staring at her.
With a groan she eased herself to her feet, stumbled the few steps to the altar, and kneeled beside her husband. There she promised the officiant, who was standing in for God, that she would obey Adam (Mathew)’s law so long as he obeyed the Father’s.
Kneeling hurt her knees, and her huge stomach pressed into the altar. She had a skirt of fig leaves on under her belly, but she didn’t remember putting it on. Sister Wallace must have done it earlier. A contraction came as she kneeled, and with legs forced apart and with gravity helping, the baby came down. She couldn’t help but push, and gasped as the head shot out further than it had yet. Agony tore through her pussy and she couldn’t help but let out a gasp, barely muffling the full scream of pain that surged from her throat.
As soon as the contraction ended, however, the massive head began going back inside. The baby kicked, the feeling was wrong. Revulsion and agony surged through her body, and she tried to catch it, engaging her core muscles, stopping the baby in its tracks. There was pressure, something pushing back against the baby. As she slowly stood from the alter and headed back to her seat, the baby’s head brushing the inside of her thighs, she lost the push. The baby eased back inside her all the way. Tears filled her eyes.
She would have sunk to the floor right there in pain and despair, but Sister Wallace caught her and brought her back to her seat. “Don’t worry,” she whispered in Mariah’s ears. “Those special garments will keep that baby in, no matter how hard you push. It will be saved.”
The next contraction brought the baby to a full crown, then the garments immediately began pushing it back in once the pressure released. Desperately, Mariah kept pushing, trying to keep the head there so she wouldn’t have to experience the agony of it returning. But eventually, she had to breathe, giving up the fight. Nausea filling her chest and throat.
She had to stand again, to put on a hat and robe and other holy emblems. Then again to kneel at the altar. Then the altar again. The third time, as she knelt the baby’s head completely popped out, slipping off to one leg of the garment. As she stood, her cheeks red with embarrassment and exhaustion, the head pressed against her leg. She felt it as she walked, bowlegged back to her seat, but before she could sit down, Sister Wallace caught her arm.
Right. It was time to go up the stairs to the terrestrial room. Each step was agony, the shoulders shifting in her hip, her legs spread awkwardly around the head, which touched her thighs. A line of people waited behind her awkward shuffling, impatient. When a contraction hit, Sister Wallace kept pulling her up the stairs, not giving her time to push.
Her legs shook, each step torture, then they were at the top, and she was being pushed into a seat again. Sister Wallace frowned at her, and reached subtly under her dress as the rest of the people found their seats. Her hand slipped to the baby’s head that had somehow escaped the restrictive garment.
In a horrible flash, Mariah knew what was coming. “Please, don’t” she whispered. “Please.”
“We have to save your baby,” Sister Wallace responded, then her hand pressed on the babies head, forcing it inside.
Mariah opened her mouth to scream, but Sister Wallace’s other hand grabbed her jaw and forced her mouth closed. “This is a holy place,” she reminded Mariah. “You must be quiet.”
More standing and kneeling and contractions. Endless pain. Torture of another kind. She needed to push. Needed to give birth. How could she play Mother Even for this long, making covenants for her, and yet not be allowed to give birth?
The prayer circle finally came, the last bit until the end. Mathew grabbed her arm, and hauled her to her feet. Her legs trembled, the world swirled. “I can’t,” she whispered.
“This is for our babies,” Mathew said. “Please?”
Before she could say no, but how could she when she’d just promised God she’d obey him?, she was dragged to the front of the circle. The officiant said a prayer, she repeated what she said with the others in the circle, her legs spread awkwardly, the baby’s full crown bulging against the worn garments. Agony.
Then she was standing against the veil, making the tokens, with Sister Wallace whispering the right answers in her ears. She normally had these memorized, but she had no more brain power, no awareness except for the bulge in her pants and the desperate need to birth. Finally, it was over, she was through the veil.
“Very good,” Sister Wallace said, “just one more time through the endowment.”
“No,” Mariah begged, falling to her knees. “Please, I need to give birth. Please. To one of them. At least.”
Sister Wallace hesitated, then nodded. She reached out and pulled Mariah to her feet, in through the celestial room with its giant mirrors and massive crystal chandelier, then off to a small room to the side. It was all white, a single altar in the center.
Sister Wallace knelt down, under Mariah’s skirt, fumbling with the tight garment bottom. “You must push your legs together to get this off,” she said.
But the baby’s head was there, fully crowned. Her legs weren’t going anywhere. “I can’t,” Mariah whined.
“I’ll help.” Then once again, the worst feeling of her life, the baby’s head being shoved back in. Mariah did vomit then, falling to her knees, vision blanking. She woke up sprawled over the altar, her baby’s head in her pussy, the garment bottom’s finally, blissfully off.
“Push,” Sister Wallace ordered. “Quickly, the next endowment session is starting soon. Your husband is waiting.”
Exhausted, but relieved, she pushed. The head shot out, and she screamed at the sudden shift despite herself. Gasping for breath, she clung to the side of the altar, her fingers digging into the cushions to keep herself upright on her trembling legs. An agonizing few minutes of breathing as the shoulders turned, then more pushing, the first shoulder popped out, stretching her even more.
Big, so big. Mariah shifted, awkwardly on her knees forcing them further apart to make room for the second shoulder, then with a final massive push and gush of fluids, the baby fell from her, into the waiting hands of Sister Wallace.
Or no, another Sister in white had entered at some point. She came in, cut the cord, washed up the baby, while Sister Wallace was doing something down there. Mariah didn’t quite care what. She watched her baby, Nephi, as he cried, wrapped in a blanket, still smeared with unmentionables, but beautiful anyway. Perfect. And promised to her forever, no matter what he did.
Another contraction distracted Mariah from that holy moment. She groaned, feeling the next baby pressing down on her worn insides, already pushing through her dilated cervix.
Then something snapped shut around her waist and her eyes shot open. Mariah stared in betrayal at Sister Wallace as she stood back up and held a dainty hand to Mariah. The restrictive, birthing-proof garments were back on. “Come on then, you must save the other one still.”
“No, please. I can’t.” Mariah didn’t even think she could stand. Even kneeling was too much.
“You must, for your child. Come, you won’t be the witness couple this time. You can just sit through it.”
She had to drag Mariah to her feet. Mariah leaned on Sister Wallace heavily as they walked back down the halls, back to the first endowment room, the telestial room, painted with mountains and animals a plenty. Mathew waved at Mariah from where he sat, giving her a thumbs up.
The story of creation and Adam and Even droned on as the second baby dropped. It was moving much slower than before, the cramps having shifted to Mariah’s back more than her front. She leaned against the seat back, desperately seeking counter pressure as she pushed with each contraction. But it was getting harder and harder to do so.
Her body ached. Her head spun. She was so tired. Robotically, she obeyed the instructions from Sister Wallace to get through the session. By the time they needed to switch rooms, the second baby, the daughter presumably, was low again. This birth felt different somehow. Worse, slower. Maybe everything was harder because she was exhausted? Mariah wondered.
But as she stood and pressed her hand subtly to her bulging nethers, she felt something that was definitely not a head. Still it spread her apart plenty.
She was only two steps up to the next room when the next contraction hit. It was too much. Despite Sister Wallace’s support arm, Mariah’s legs gave out and she went down. She was too tired to scream, so she could only moan as something stretched her lips apart, only to be slowly shoved back in by the restrictive garments.
“Help,” she moaned. “Let me birth it, please.”
It took both Mathew and Sister Wallace to drag her limp, stumbling, exhausted body up the stairs and plop her in the seat for the next section. The contractions came and went, her body’s frantic, last push to get the baby out. The pressure and pain was awful, but the baby was stuck fast, spreading her lips wide apart, far wider than the son’s head. The garments were too worn by this time to push the baby back, it only held it, at the butt equivalent of a full crown, as the contractions continued on and on.
She zoned out in the pain, lost, distant. Until, at last she was pulled to her feet once more. The baby’s body brushed against her inner thighs as she was dragged to the front of the veil, muttered through the secrets, and was finally let inside. She didn’t have the energy to kneel, so she was laid across the altar.
Mathew was there this time, as Sister Wallace took off the garment bottoms, throwing Mariah’s skirts up, over her belly and out of the way.
Completely exposed, Mariah tried to look down to see what was happening, her legs propped up on either side of the altar on stools to keep them separate. She couldn’t have held them up, someone was doing it for her. Despite her efforts she couldn’t see over her misshapen belly.
“You are doing so good, I can see it,” Mathew assured her, from where he held one leg. “Push!”
The contraction came, and Mariah tried. The baby’s butt scooted forward a bit, then resumed its place, comfortable where it had been stuck for the last hour.
“Can’t,” she gasped out, head falling limply, once the contraction ended.
Then Mathew’s hand pressed down on her stomach, pushing hard. The increase in pain, the suddenly movement of the baby startled Mariah, she let out a squeak, and stopped pushing.
Mathew’s hand rested on her stomach. He leaned down, grabbed her chin, and forced her to look up at him. Then he forced his mouth on her, kissing her. She gasped at the contact, kissing back instinctively, unsure if it was too much or just the reassurance she needed. Then he pulled back. The next contraction came, contorting her stomach. She whimpered and tried to push, but she was too weak, too exhausted. The baby wasn’t moving!
“Keep pushing!” he commanded as he pushed.
Slowly, the baby’s butt slipped out of her straining, purpled lips. After three contractions, where she tapped out early, exhausted, heading spinning and he kept pushing on her stomach, the legs finally flopped out. She was too exhausted to even scream at that point.
Her world narrowed to pushing, to the sensation of her lips dragging across the stomach and arms of her baby. Until finally, it popped out, accompanied by another flash of fluids.
Done. No. The head. She still had the head.
Someone had grabbed the baby and was tugging at it from the other end, sending fire shooting all through her worn body. Her lips spread again, more and more. The lips, the nose, oozing slowly out of her. And then with a pop, and a final gush of fluids she was done. The baby was crying. Mathew was holding it, cooing. “Oh she’s perfect,” he whispered, holding the baby out to Mariah.
Mariah smiled. She’d done it. They were a family of four. Together. Forever.
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Stretching the truth | Laia Codina x Physio!Reader
5k celebration prompt: "You haven't kissed me all day."
A/n: thank you @valkyrie-00 @totaly-obsessed and @catasha from the woso writers server for your ideas on this one!
Woso masterlist | Words: 1.7k
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After not having to wake up early during winter break, your 7am alarm was rough. You turned it off and before you were even able to get out from under the covers, your girlfriend wrapped her arm around your body and pulled you closer. “Don’t go.” She said still half asleep.
You had spent the winter break in Spain with Laia’s family. She had been missing her family, so it was a no-brainer to go. Your family was out here, and who were you to say no to the nice and warm Spanish weather?
In Spain you had spent almost every single day of your trip with Laia by your side, so you weren’t surprised that she was now clinging onto you. “Back to work today, love. I have to go in early to set everything up.”
“Five more minutes?” Her sleepy voice begged. “Alright, five minutes, but not a minute more.” You knew that if you wouldn’t stop it at five, Laia would be able to keep you there for an hour if she wanted to.
After cuddling for a while longer, you told her you really had to go. You placed a soft kiss onto her lips, “I’ll see you soon.”
The first day back for you meant starting off with a few meetings, and setting up your physio room. A few of the girls would come in to get assessed before training, while the other physios had appointments with the other girls.
On your schedule were Vic, Lia, Laura, and Lina. The girls had been either injured or just coming back from their injuries. You had been working with them before the break as well, and wanted to make sure that the work they put in over break did their bodies well.
Vic came in for her assessment first, you chatted a bit while you checked off all the boxes, and declared her ready to start training with the team. She had been working hard towards her comeback, and you were happy to see the progress she had been able to make already. It wouldn’t be long now before she would be playing again, you knew it and knew it made her incredibly happy.
The next person that came into your office was Lina, she came to you with some struggles. She let you know that her calf wasn’t feeling great, so you checked it out. After assessing her calf and the rest of your checklist, you recommended her to come in after her gym session.
The next person you expected to walk in was Lia, but instead it was Laia who walked through the door. “What are you doing here? I thought you were with Emma today.”
Laia closed the door behind her and sat down on your physio table. “I was, but she wanted me to see you instead.” You furrowed your brows, “Why? Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just my ankle is bothering me a bit.” She said while putting her leg up. “Your ankle?” Her injury confused you, because she hadn’t mentioned anything during the break.
“Yeah, my left ankle. I think I hurt it when I got out of the car, just a misstep.” You looked between her face and then the foot she put up. “Your left ankle is hurting, but you put up your right?”
Her eyes widened and it takes every ounce of power in you to stay professional and not start laughing. “Left? Did I say left? No no, I meant right. It- it’s the language barrier, I switched them up, accidentally.”
With a shake of your head and a light chuckle, you say, “Alright, let’s take a look at your right ankle.” As you had expected, there wasn’t much you could find, just Laia dramatically flinching as if it was hurting. It was a good thing she didn’t go into acting, because it took everything in you to not just burst out laughing.
“It doesn’t look like much.” You said when you were done assessing her ankle. “But, let’s keep an eye on it. You’re all set to head to the gym.”
Laia jumps down from the bed like there was no problem with her ankle, confirming for you that it was nothing. “Thank you.” She says and steps closer to you, the twinkle in her eyes makes you take a step back instantly. “We’re at work.”
Your girlfriend’s shoulders slump down. “You’re right, I’ll see you later.” You don’t have time to feel bad, as the next player enters the room.
The morning was filled all the way until lunch break, which you spend in the dining hall with the rest of the staff and players. After break it was right back to work, some taping before you would spend some time with Vic on the pitch.
The only person that was scheduled to come in was Lina, but once again it was Laia who entered. “Oh hi. Is everything okay?” She nods, “Yeah, just a tight muscle in my calf and I wondered if you could help.”
You looked at your watch, about ten minutes before Lina would come in, so you told her to lay down. As Laia laid down on the physio table, you grabbed some massage oil and began working on her calf. You couldn’t deny how toned her muscles were, even if this was supposed to be professional. No wonder they made sure that Laia was usually seeing one of your coworkers and not you.
“Is this where it was feeling tight?” You asked, applying a little more pressure to a specific spot. “Mhm, yeah, right there.” She responded with a little too much satisfaction. Her tone made you chuckle. “What? You’re good at this.”
You rolled your eyes but kept working, your fingers kneading into her calf. "Feels more like you're enjoying this than actually needing help."
Laia turned around on the table and put her leg up, like you asked her to do. “You’re the best at giving massages, of course I would come to see you.”
You shook your head with a smile. “Hm sure, and the ankle this morning? Totally legitimate too?”
With the most horribly performance of an innocent face, Laia said “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Just as you were finishing up, Laia stretched her arms above her head, causing her shirt to ride up slightly, exposing her toned stomach slightly. You stopped talking mid-sentence, much to Laia’s delight. “Oh, was that distracting? Sorry.” She said with a smirk.
You rolled your eyes jokingly, “You’re impossible.”
Before Laia could make a comeback, a knock on the door interrupted. It was Lina poking her head around the door, “Am I early?”
You looked at your watch quickly, “Right on time. Laia was just leaving.” She reluctantly hopped off the table. Giving you one last daring look, before closing the door behind her.
The team knew you and Laia were together, and you had become good friends with most of them because the two of you were dating, so it wasn’t weird when Lina raised her eyebrows at what just happened. “Something going on there?” She said with a knowing smile. “Just a very needy patient.” You joked back, before you told her to sit down, so you could tape her calf.
When you were done with taping, you headed into your office for a quick coffee break and filling out some papers for the work you had done today, before you would head out to the pitch with Vic.
“Hello!” A familiar voice said from your office door. You sighed and rolled your eyes lightly, while a smile tugged at your lips. “Laia, what is it this time?”
She stepped into your office and closed the door behind her with an innocent smile on her face. “I’ve been having trouble sleeping.”
You tilted your head in confusion. “Sleeping? Why are you coming to me for that and not Emma?”
Laia sat down on the chair across from you, her face plastered with a serious look. “Well, it’s about positions.” Her wording catches you off guard, and you feel your cheeks heating up, “What?”
“You know,” she continued, “positions. I can’t seem to find the right one… to sleep comfortably.”
“Okay, that’s enough. What is with you today?” You lean back into your chair and move your hands through your hair.
"You haven't kissed me all day." Laia said with a pout. And then every single unnecessary visit started to make sense. “Oh Laia, really? You’ve been hogging my patient time because you wanted a kiss?”
She shrugged nonchalantly, though the mischievous glint in her eyes betrayed her. “Can you blame me? We went from spending every minute together to barely seeing each other all day. I had to be creative.”
You had to give her credit, she had been creative. “You know there’s a time and place for that, right? Here? Not the place.” You chuckled.
Her pout deepened as she leaned forward, resting her elbows on your desk. “But you love me, so you’ll forgive me, right?”
You sighed dramatically, though the grin tugging at your lips gave you away. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
“Impossible to resist,” she said back instantly. Oh she was good, you thought while shaking your head.
“Fine. One kiss. But only so I can actually do my job for the rest of the day.” You gave in. Laia’s face lit up and she was on her feet instantly. “Deal!”
She walked to the other side of your desk and waited for you to stand up to wrap her arms around your waist and give you a loving kiss. Laia was trying to deepen the kiss, so you reluctantly stepped back. “Not the place.” You warned.
Laia pulled away with a smirk. “Can’t blame a girl for trying.”
“Out. Go train or do something productive. I’ve got actual work to do.” Your girlfriend grinned, clearly pleased with herself. “Alright. I’ll behave.” She walked towards the door, before she closed it behind her she looked back and added “For now.”
You were left in the room shaking your head in amusement. She was really something. But you loved her dearly and could not wait to get home.
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#pockets 5k celebration#laia codina#laia codina x reader#laia codina imagine#arsenal wfc x reader#arsenal women x reader#awfc x reader#espwnt x reader#woso#woso x reader#arsenal wfc#arsenal women#awfc
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In love with you - part 6
Pairing: Powder x fem!reader
Warnings: friends to lovers, SMUT, kissing, fluff
Synopsis: Powder had been your best friend for years, the two of you met when she was running from the cops when she and her brothers broke into and blew up an apartment in Piltover and you helped them escape. What you never imagined, is that the love of your life was always right there in front of you…
A/N: This is a fic about Powder from the alternate universe, it has nothing to do with Jinx.
🌟 English is not my first language, so I apologize if there are any mistakes.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
💙 @brocoliisscared @bbybubbles @cattjull
Powder was taking her time with you, kissing every part of your body, every little bit of skin, nothing went unnoticed by her lips. “I’ve always wanted you so much babe, sorry if I can’t keep my hands and lips away from you”, she said giving you a peck on the lips. You smiled before saying, “I’m not complaining…”, you lifted your head a little when she went back to kissing your chin and then your neck. “… I’m loving this, but don’t you think it’s your turn now, huh?”, you said still smiling, her breath on your neck tickling your skin.
She let go of your neck just to look at you, “Ok but first, I want to try something,” she said cringing a little, was she getting embarrassed after all?” Alright and what would that thing be?”, you asked, unable to contain your anxiety. Powder brought her face even closer to yours and said, looking into your eyes, “I want to eat you while you ride my face”. For a moment you didn’t know how to react, this was something new for you, as well as for her. You both knew this because of a conversation about sex you once shared and Powder had been thinking about what it would be like to eat you like this ever since, it had driven her crazy for months. Before you could answer anything, she said eagerly, “Please baby, I really want to have you like this… but no pressure, only if you want it too of course.”
Powder was so cute begging you that it was impossible to deny her. Of course you wanted it as much as she did, but the sparkle in her eyes only encouraged you even more. Instead of answering with words, you smiled at her, biting your lower lip and placing your hands on either side of her collarbone and forcing yourself to change positions, getting on top of her. She took your answer as a yes and bit her lower lip. You placed your right leg between hers and pressed your knee into her pussy, still covered by her panties. She bit her lower lip harder and let a soft moan escape her throat.
“I think your panties are ruined, love,” you teased her back to you earlier. But Powder didn’t care and clicked her tongue, “it’s not the first time I’ve wet my panties around you baby, it’s been countless times, I should be ashamed, but you’ve always turned me on… you need to know that when I say I’ve always wanted you badly I’m not kidding… now sit on my face.” Powder’s husky and authoritative voice made you melt like butter, you loved being dominated like this and you couldn’t resist it, your friend knew that and was using it to her advantage, it was a little mean of her, but you loved it.
You bit your lower lip and moved up to her face. Powder, who had her hands on your sides, dragged them down to your bare ass and squeezed a little, making you gasp. You placed your knees on either side of Powder's head and she placed her hands on each of your thighs and spread them, having the perfect view of your swollen pussy right in front of her eyes and that view hit her right in the pussy making it ache with desire. You held the back of the couch with your right hand while resting the other on the arm of the couch, Powder held your waist and adjusted you on top of her, aligning your pussy with her mouth. Her hot breath and breathing hit your bare pussy and made you feel shivers all over your body.
Powder closed her eyes and trailed kisses and bites along the inside of your thighs where her lips reached and kept this up for a few torturous minutes. Your pussy was aching from clenching around nothing and you felt like you were going to go crazy, you needed her mouth on your needy cunt. “You’re warm and soft, do you know that?” she whispered against the skin of your thigh and you shivered and gasped when the tip of her nose brushed against your groin and Powder smiled at your reaction. She pulled you down and you crushed her face beneath you. She pressed a kiss to your wet folds making you squirm a little and you bit your bottom lip.
You moaned loudly as Powder licked your pussy from bottom to top, lingering a little longer on your sensitive clit, sucking it deliciously. “Oh P-Powder,” you moaned, closing your eyes and throwing your head back. Powder tightened her hands on your waist and guided you to ride her face as she ate your pussy with her mouth wide open, her tongue teasing your hole and moving up to lick and suck your clit. The sounds of your moans and sighs mixed with the sounds of her lips sucking on your wet pussy and echoed throughout every corner of Powder's workshop.
Powder licked and swirled her tongue around your bud frantically making you moan even more and roll your eyes back in your head. She swirled her tongue around your clit once more and sucked it between her lips slowly, you looked down and opened your mouth in an “o” shape before throwing your head back again moaning loudly when she did it again. She left your clit only to stick her tongue inside your hole and you choked out a moan at her sudden act.
Now Powder was tongue fucking you as she pulled your hips incredibly closer to her face, her tongue deep in your pussy as she fucked you like this. She stiffened the muscle and pulled it out and thrust it back into you fast and steady and it made you see stars. You started bouncing on her tongue to get more friction and the sounds coming from your pussy were sinful and your moans were uncontrolled. Powder moved her right hand up to your right breast and she groped and squeezed it while still fucking you with her tongue. You gripped the back of the couch tightly and pulled her hair a little from her scalp with your left hand and she moaned a muffled moan between your pussy.
Powder was fucking you so well with her tongue that it was getting hard for you to stay on your knees, you were running out of strength and your body was going soft like jelly, the familiar knot started to tighten in your stomach and you lost your balance, falling forward with a groan, causing your pussy to pull away from Powder's mouth. She immediately grabbed your hips and readjusted you to your previous position, going back to fucking her tongue into your slippery hole. You moaned and grabbed the arm of the couch with both hands, while throwing your head back.
Powder knew you were close to cumming when your walls clamped down on her tongue and it became hard to move it inside your pussy. Your legs began to shake uncontrollably and you began to moan tearful groans as you felt your orgasm coming on strong once again. The blue haired girl grabbed your waist and lifted you up a bit only to bring you back down onto her tongue - which went straight into your sensitive hole - and she guided you like that a few times, “Gosh Powder,” you whimpered in a moan. She held you against her mouth again, holding you firmly at the waist so you wouldn't fall, and fucked her tongue inside your pussy a few more times.
You came hard right into her mouth as you moaned above her. Powder pulled her tongue out of you and drank the cum that dripped from your hole as if she were eating a delicious ice cream - which for her it was. She drank every last drop of your cream and only stopped when you started spasming and whimpering too much from the overstimulation.
“You were so good to me, my sweet girl,” Powder said, kissing the inside of your thigh and helping you get off her face. You fell next to her on the couch, since the space was small you threw your left leg on top of hers and she intertwined it between them. “That was…”, you said with a breathless breath. “Yeah, I know baby,” she replied also breathless. You both stared at the ceiling as you caught your breath, you looked at her to ask, “Have you really never done this before?” She turned her face to look at you, “I’ve never wanted any other girl to ride my face,” she said cringing and a light blush left her cheeks red.
You smiled at her cuteness, lifted your torso, resting your right arm on the arm of the couch, and massaged her belly with your left hand. Your torso was above hers and your breasts were crushed against hers. You took your hand off her belly and wiped the remains of your cum from her mouth and chin with your hand. Powder looked at you as if you were a rare jewel, like a dream that had finally come true. You smiled at each other and you kissed her on the lips. This time the kiss was slow and passionate, Powder didn't fight for dominance and your tongues danced together in perfect harmony. You lowered your left hand to her left breast and massaged it, making her gasp between your lips.
You pulled her lower lip between your teeth and she squeezed your hips in response. You lowered your head to her neck and began to place kisses and bites all over her neck while still groping her breast. “Baby, I’m going to have to make you cum again if you keep this up,” she said between sighs. “None of that, now it’s your turn love,” you said, sucking on the skin below her ear, making her gasp and pull your waist down hard so she could lay you down and reverse your positions, but you didn’t let up this time.
Powder was very restricted with touches, she usually preferred to give rather than receive, but you were the girl who was in her “bed” now and she wanted you in every way possible. You moved your kisses down to her right breast and closed your lips around her nipple, swirling your tongue around it and sucking it between your teeth. Powder bit her lower lip hard and moved her hands from your waist down to your ass where she groped your buttocks and squeezed them and you whimpered into her breast.
“Y/n… I wanna kiss you,” she said softly. You let go of her breast and a string of saliva connected your lips to her nipple, you brought your lips closer to hers and she immediately slammed them against yours pushing her tongue inside your mouth. You were lying on your side next to her on the mattress, your torso was on top of hers and you had your left leg intertwined with hers. You untangled your leg from hers and she spread them on the couch, you placed your left leg - which was previously between hers - over her knee to keep her leg open.
You slid your hand from her breast down the length of her body until you reached the inside of her thigh near her groin and she gasped into your lips, biting your lower lip, making you gasp too. You pushed her panties aside and she sighed deeply when she finally felt free of the sticky fabric. You slipped your fingers into her wet folds and massaged her pussy making her sigh into your lips. You swirled your fingers around her swollen bud slowly and she bit your bottom lip again, this time a little too hard to keep from moaning and you felt the sting and pulled back, letting go of her lips. “S-sorry love,” she said between sighs.
You sped up the movement of your fingers on her clit, rubbing it and tapping it lightly while Powder let out low moans from time to time. Powder raised her torso a little to reach your neck, where she abused your skin a little so she wouldn't moan so much. She bit, kissed and sucked the skin on your neck while you abused her clitoris with your quick fingers and you moaned from time to time when she pulled your skin too hard with her lips and teeth. Unlike her, you were more of a crybaby and the moans that escaped you hit her pussy directly and mixed with the pleasure you were giving her and that only made her hornier.
You kissed her lips and she laid her head back on the pillow as she grabbed your hips. You moved your fingers down from her clit to her hole and slowly inserted your middle finger inside her with ease. You began to slowly move your finger in and out of her hole and she moaned softly. Little by little you inserted a second finger and increased the speed of the movements, rolling them inside her and hitting the right spot, making Powder moan a little louder than she would have liked. You hid your face in her neck and began to leave kisses and light bites on her skin.
Powder moved her hands from your hips to your ass and squeezed your cheeks in response to the movements of your fingers and when you hit the spongy spot inside her again, she arched her hips and bit her bottom lip hard. She slid her hand from your ass and ran her fingers over your swollen, wet pussy and you moaned into her neck increasing the pace of your fingers in her pussy.
You realized that Powder was close to cumming when she started to squeeze your fingers and couldn't help but moan loudly. You had in mind to make her cum on your tongue, just like she did with you. So you pulled your fingers out of her and she whimpered at the lack of them in her pussy. You looked at her and smiled before taking your two fingers in your mouth and licking them, tasting the sweet taste of her. This caused some reaction in Powder by the way her blue eyes sparkled, “ok, that’s enough,” she said pushing your torso down and getting on top of you.
“Hey, I wasn’t done,” you complained and tried to change positions, but Powder held your hips firmly, preventing you from moving. “I know baby, but this isn’t how I want to cum,” she said, letting go of you only to take off her panties. Once again you couldn't help but feel dominated and immediately you felt a burning sensation between your legs and bit your lower lip waiting for Powder's next move. She lay on top of you and caressed both sides of your face with her thumbs, she had a sweet smile on her lips. “I wanna have sex with you love, do you understand?”, she whispered in her husky voice and gave you a peck on the lips.
You smiled, making her smile too, and she kissed the corner of your stretched lip. “What are you waiting for? You have my heart and my consent, forever,” you whispered. Powder's eyes shone even bluer and she smiled before getting off of you and lifting your left leg to her waist, then she adjusted herself between your legs making her pussy rub against yours and you both moaned together. Powder lowered her torso and laid her arms on either side of you on the couch and held your shoulders from behind to gain momentum. You lifted your leg a little higher on her waist and wrapped your arms around her neck.
Before she started moving, she gave you a quick peck on the lips and looked at the red mark of her teeth on your lower lip where she bit too hard earlier, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Powder was anxious and had a habit of brooding over things, you knew that and you didn’t want her to feel bad just because of that. “It’s okay baby,” you interrupted her and sealed your lips on hers. Then Powder made her first move and her pussy spread deliciously over yours. She slid her pussy against yours in a slow and perfect rhythm, making you moan sweetly and softly between the kiss.
Powder put a little more pressure and accelerated the pace of her hips rubbing her pussy against yours and you opened your mouth breathing heavily just like Powder, her lips brushed against yours with her movements pushing you. She alternated between thrusting and rotating her pussy against yours in a fast and precise rhythm, the friction was perfect and made your clitorises kiss, eliciting moans from both of you.
The blue-haired girl brought her hands to either side of your waist and held you firmly beneath her and sped up the movements of her hips once more. She buried her face in the crook of your neck and kissed your skin hard, biting every now and then. You grabbed her shoulders and squeezed them as you moaned. Powder's breathing on your neck was erratic and panting and sometimes she would let out restrained moans and this only drove you further and further over the edge.
Powder lifted her face and looked at you and the two of you exchanged passionate smiles. You brought your right hand to her face and caressed her reddened cheek with your thumb. She lowered her head to kiss you, but it was hard to keep the kiss with her thrusts pushing you and with the panting breaths of both of you. You raised your back a little and held on to the couch with your right hand while you had your other arm around Powder's neck. Your face was close to hers and your panting breaths tickled each other's skin. You tilted your head back and Powder took the opportunity to kiss your chin and jaw. You fell back onto the couch as you groaned, you couldn't hold it in much longer.
Powder took her left hand off your waist and intertwined her fingers with your right hand's fingers and put a little more strength and agility into the friction, making you moan loudly and a noise came out of her throat as she bit her lip.
Your skins stuck together because of the sweat from your bodies and the wet sounds of skin against skin coming from your pussies together were sinful and echoed throughout the workshop, mixing with your moans and her panting breath in your ear. Powder's clit rubbed against yours frantically and you felt the knot in your stomach tighten for the thousandth time that night. “Oh my god… I.. I’m gonna cum”, you whispered with a broken voice. “Me too baby”. Powder squeezed her fingers in yours and this time it was hard to contain the moans so she let them come out and mix with yours like a melody.
Your legs began to tremble beneath Powder and if it weren't for her weight on top of you, you would be writhing right now. Powder's legs also began to give out, but she held her ground and continued to grind her pussy against yours. Three more thrusts of her pussy into yours and you let out a high-pitched moan and everything around you went white, you came for the third time that night and you had never had orgasms this intense. Powder came right after you when her felt your hot cum dripping from your hole and spreading between your pussies. Now your pussies were sticky with your juices mixed with hers and strings of cum connected your pussies when Powder stopped her thrusts and got off of you falling next to you on the couch.
The two of you were silent for a few minutes as you recovered from your orgasm and calmed your breathing, catching your breath. Your fingers were still intertwined with hers and neither of you had any intention of untying them so you remained like that.
“Hey,” Powder was the first to speak. You turned your face to her and she was already looking at you. “Hey,” you smiled an affectionate smile and she lifted your hands that were joined together and kissed the back of your hand. “What are you thinking about?” she asked, worried that she might have done something wrong. “I’m not thinking about anything, I just… I’m just calm…” you said as you played with her fingers on yours, “…I’m calm in this feeling Pow Pow.” Powder smiled and looked at your lips, bringing her head closer to yours and sealing her lips on yours, in a calm and affectionate kiss.
“What are we now?”, Powder asked, massaging your belly with the hand that wasn’t intertwined with yours. You twisted your lips as if you were thinking, “hm… we’re still best friends I guess, but something more than that too”, you answered smiling and laughing a little. Powder smiled and her eyes were shining, “I wouldn’t let you go for anything in this world girl”, then she once again kissed your lips.
You stayed like that for a few more minutes until you started to feel sleepy. Powder pulled a sheet over the two of you and you settled down on the couch. She reached over and turned off the lights in the workshop, leaving only the blue light from the star projector that formed constellations and illuminated the ceiling, one of Powder's inventions. You were looking at the constellations above you when you heard Powder's hoarse voice talking to you, "I'm so happy... I've never felt like this before, I'm exactly where I wanted to be." You turned your face to her and she was looking up, you didn't say anything. You just smiled and laid your head on her chest and fell asleep. Powder closed her arm around your neck and fell asleep in a peaceful and happy sleep.
Guys, this was supposed to be the last part of this series, but I've been thinking about something that would be cool to continue this... I won't give any spoilers, but I'll let you decide.
Do you want me to continue writing for this series or should I stop here?
#arcane#jinx arcane#jinx league of legends#jinx x reader#jinx x y/n#powder arcane#powder x reader#lesbian#jinx#jinx x you#powder x jinx#jinx x fem!reader#jinx smut#jinx lol#powder
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Idea for a angsty and hurt/comfort-y scenario
Firefly and Kafka with a mecha pilot!s/o... but with a twist.
Rather than the mech suit being (essentially) a Gundam from the hit anime franchise "Mobile Suit Gundam, it's more like a Dreadnought from Warhammer 40k, a machine that keeps their mangled for just barely alive. Maybe in this scenario, Firefly and Kafka are seeing S/O directly for them first time since they'd met.
(H:SR) Firefly and Kafka's S/O's body being trapped in a machine
"I would have liked to see the skies of Baal one last time..."
Firefly, to some extent, knew what it was like to be kept on life support by a machine.
Even though it kept her alive and able to move, constant use of her armor was already draining what time she had left remaining.
And she joined the Stellaron Hunters to fight that fate.
When she met S/O for the first time; she had assumed they just kept their armor on to keep their identity secret like her.
Though to Firefly's horror, she soon learned that was not the case at all.
Their mech was massive, more akin to a metal box with stubby legs, a gatling cannon and a claw arm strapped to the sides.
She had asked before what they looked like underneath the suit, but she had never gotten a definitive answer, either usually being brushed off or told "I'd rather not show you."
But on a quiet night with the two of them overlooking the hills and into the stars, Firefly sat with the mech in silence.
And now, she wanted to ask again.
(Firefly) "S/O...if it's alright for me to ask, why do you not want to show yourself to me?"
S/O remained silent, not even a whir or hiss of their servos responded.
(Firefly) "If you're worried about how I'd react, I'll still love you the same no matter what."
After a brief moment, S/O finally answered.
(S/O) "...This is not only a vehicle for me, Firefly...It is also my tomb."
The way they had uttered the last phrase, it sent a shiver up her spine, making her turn fully towards them.
(Firefly) "A life support system?"
(S/O) "Yes. And...there is not much left of me to see."
(Firefly) "...Even so, I still want to see you."
S/O didn't bother moving, as it would cause too much noise. Instead, Firefly walked toward the front of their machine, where a sarcophagus-like structure laid in the center.
And with a click and hiss, the sarcophagus opened, Firefly's hands covering her mouth on instinct.
All she could see was a single heart beating, connected to several wires that lead to Aeons knows where.
Though the heart wasn't completely exposed to the elements as it had a layer of what looked like glass in front of the components.
And now, S/O's voice was unobstructed by machine, hearing their voice echo so much clearer.
(S/O) "It's...been so long since I've felt the cold..."
Firefly walked slowly up near the open sarcophagus, resting her hand on the metal plates that laid next to the center.
She had a tear running down her cheek, but she couldn't find the words to express her grief for them.
Thankfully, it wasn't needed.
S/O's claw arm lifted slowly up, letting Firefly rest her hand on it, while looking directly at their heart one last time before it closed.
(Firefly) "How do you...?-"
(S/O) "Cope with it? I don't...Rather, I didn't. Before I met you...I was in stasis whenever I wasn't active, only awakened to fight."
Firefly let her hand grab one of the fingers, the intimate gesture not lost on S/O as the machine made an audible click to lean further into her hold.
(S/O) "Elio promised me that I'd be able to walk and live again outside this machine...until then...I have you. And I won't let you die either, Firefly."
Firefly smiled at that, looking back up to the sky with renewed hope. But before she leaned back into them like a makeshift bench, she looked where their heart was covered directly.
(Firefly) "...Thank you for showing me the real you."
Kafka didn't know what fear was. Rather, she didn't know how it felt.
She knew she caused it in others, but couldn't grasp on how it personally felt.
But everytime she thought about what S/O was in, it gave her at least a little semblance of what it'd be like.
Firefly's situation was already horrid enough with the Entropy Syndrome, S/O's seemed to be somehow worse much to her disbelief.
Upon first recruiting S/O to the Stellaron Hunters, she thought they just liked to pilot the hulking mech, not that they were one. Much less that they had been alive for centuries within the machine.
Though she liked to tease and bicker with her colleagues, she was always a little softer on S/O, as was everyone else.
(Kafka) "Rise and shine, old one."
S/O's visor on the sarcophagus blinked to life as the mech's limbs slowly twitched before whirring alive.
(S/O) "...I suppose waking me up for something pleasant for once is out of the question."
(Kafka) "Sorry, need ya on this mission."
(S/O) "And what mess have you gotten yourselves into this time?"
Kafka simply let out a sultry chuckle.
(Kafka) "One that if you take care of, I'll treat you to something nice."
Kafka made it a point to not ask what they had looked like underneath the machine.
If they wanted to do it, they'd have done it by now considering they had been with them long enough for the Trailblazer to have joined and then since left the group.
More importantly, she could hear the sorrow in their voice. Like Blade, she could tell when someone lamented being alive.
And yet one quiet evening, she finally got one of her questions answered, what did they look like?
Kafka's eyes slightly widened at the heart that was beating before her. That and the machine was all that remained of her lover.
(Kafka) "Well...you weren't lying when you said there wasn't much left."
Her tone became much softer as one finger dragged down the metal plate near the sarcophagus, stopping at the same level as their heart.
(Kafka) "Guess that also explains why you always asked us to put you to sleep...Yet you stopped."
(S/O) "No point. I've spent a long while trying to avoid it, and with Elio's goals, I'm only needed more and more."
Kafka's finger tapped against their mechanical body before resting her palm against them.
(Kafka) "Could go off script for a little. I'm sure we can find some mad genius to get you a proper body back."
S/O's mechanical chuckle echoed throughout the room.
(S/O) "Were it so easy."
Kafka's hand pulled back as she sat on their arm, giving S/O a more genuine smile than her usual one.
(Kafka) "First chance we get? We'll get you one, script or not."
(S/O) "...Thank you, Kafka."
Their voice became shaky, even though they were almost entirely machine, S/O never seemed more vulnerable than now as one of the claw arm's fingers trembled.
Whether that was just a machine glitch or S/O's emotion coming through, Kafka didn't care.
She still held onto it, giving one last smile before stepping away.
(Kafka) "Gotta say: I like this side of you too."
#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail imagines#honkai star rail headcanons#firefly hsr x reader#firefly honkai star rail x reader#kafka honkai star rail x reader#kafka hsr x reader#firefly honkai star rail#kafka honkai star rail
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A Barter 2
Warnings: suggestions of death, I am a dark blog and I write dark things.
Summary: You are bargained to be wife to the witcher if he can slew the beast in the village.
Character: Geralt of Rivia
**note, I am not a Witcher genius or aficionado and so I may get some things wrong.
As usual, I appreciate any and all feedback and enthusiasm. Please reblog and leave a comment. Love! 😍
You watch the witcher set off into the fog from between the slats of the barn. It’s been a fortnight crammed into the space. The stench has faded to something tolerable but the tension hasn’t.
The now orphaned maiden clings to your arm. That’s what she is now. The man in black all but confirmed it. His horse tramps off into oblivion without hesitation as he sits tall in his saddle, disappearing into the haze. You sit back as your companion sniffles.
“They’re dead? All of them?”
“It would seem,” you sigh and lean on the wall.
Your sister was a sweet girl but even before the revelation, you had little hope. Especially as your mother went to search and did not return. Your father has only you and your brother left. Marsh is a child still but he will grow into his legacy, so long as you father lasts that long.
“How could this happen to us? Why Krescent? We are a good pious village,” she whines, her sniveling grating your addled nerves.
“Bad things happen to all, regardless of prayers,” you resign.
“That is blaspheme,” she accuses.
“It is the truth. It has happened to all in the wretched place. And if this witcher should be able to slay the evil, then I too shall walk off to my own doom, only a living one.”
She looks at you with her watery eyes. They are such a pale shade of green that they look almost yellow. She always reminded you of a swampy witch, the ones in the stories you whispered so the elders did not hear.
“I suppose...” she begins, “marriage is destined to all. It shouldn’t be such a surprise.”
“To him?” You wonder grimly. “Perhaps, at least, I will be away from this cursed land, that I should not look upon it and think of my...” your voice catches as the witcher’s words crash upon you. Your legs buckle and you slide down the wall and fold against your knees. “They truly are gone.”
Caralyn mops away her tears as she kneels at your side. Your own eyes do not weep though your chest concaves. You brace your head as your elbows rest on your knees. You take a deep breath.
“My father did not protest,” you murmur. “He is too dumbed without my mother to do anything.” You look at her, still hunched, “you must promise to look after Marsh.”
“I promise,” she avows and brushes your sleeve softly. “I will keep him close to my own brothers and sisters, now that it is up to me to see to them.”
You nod and frown deeper, “I’m deeply sorry for your parents, Caralyn. They were always so kind.”
“So kind, I do wonder why it should be them instead of me,” her eyes spring with tears again and she lowers herself to her bottom. She wipes her nose messily and heaves.
You wring your hands. You wonder the same of your mother and sister. How can it be that Lessa would wander off and you would be left behind to miss her. Your mother was always the order in your life and now it is chaos.
Along with grief, is more terror. What should happen should the fogler, or whatever he called, it not desist? What if the witcher were to defeat the monster? Should he really claim your hand? A wife?
Caralyn is right, it is not great surprise to be wed. It is a young woman’s fate but this... what sort of wife can you be to someone like him. The tainted. The sort spat upon at even the lowest tavern.
“He was not... hideous,” Caralyn suggests as if reading your thoughts.
You scrunch your nose at her, “how he looks is the least of my woes.”
“Tall. Strong.” She offers.
“Car, stop,” you chide.
“You must... must try to hearten,” she shifts closer so her legs touch yours and she leans a little, as if to comfort you. “As our mothers would always tell us, we must be good wives one day. No matter who. I’m certain if you prove a good loyal wife, he would not treat you as one of his beasts.”
You stare at her and hum. She is not incorrect. You were never to choose your husband so it should be that it doesn’t matter so much who it is. Only that you serve him well.
“A man is a man, even if witcher he be,” she declares.
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𝔅𝔩𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔏𝔲𝔰𝔱 | Vampire!Emily Prentiss
emily prentiss x f!reader 18+, MDNI warnings: language, smutsmutsmut!!, mentions of blood, blood kink, feeding, teasing in public (others can't hear), dirty talk, petnames, strap-on (r!receiving), dom/sub dynamics, some aftercare, usual vampire stuff, feeder!reader (youre for em and em only) 2.5k words (i got carried away) This is my first fic about Em!! Lemme know if y'all want more Vampire AU stuff!! I'm currently writing vamp au's for Emily Spencer, Hotch, and Blake (JJ and other BAU members coming soon...) I hope to god there aren't typos lmfao... ENJOY!
You had been stuck in the bullpen all day finishing up paperwork and sitting through those boring budget meetings you always hated. One of those rare days where you weren’t flying across the country to catch unsubs. This however, was horrible for you. It was horrible because it meant you were at the every whim your vampire girlfriend. Days like these were the days you sometimes wished she wasn’t a vampire. Sometimes. The mind reading thing could be sexy, but she would sometimes be such a menace.
For instance, during one of the budget meetings, your mind wandered. While Strauss was talking, all you could think about was the last time Emily fed, her fangs sinking into your tummy near your ribs. Moments later you could feel Emily’s eyes on you, her sitting across from you at the conference table. You turned to look at her, her eyebrow quirking up as your eyes met, you looked back at Strauss, her gaze too much for you to hold. Then she got in your head, “You naughty girl darling. You forget I can read your mind.” Fuck. “Where do you want me to feed next baby? I know you love it when I suck your neck. Or maybe I try something different like your thighs.” You turn to look her, giving her a warning look before looking back at Strauss. “You’re so cute when you think you’re in charge.” Emily smirked a little when she saw your eyes close briefly, trying so hard to ignore her. “Oh don’t worry baby. I have other plans for you. Just wait until tonight sweetness.”
It was taking every thing in you to control yourself, a wave of heat washing over your core. The rest of the meeting she drove you insane, she loved doing it. Watching you squirm while no one else knew what was going on in your head. When the meeting was over, you both walked out next to each other, her passing by you swiftly. Her scent entered your nostrils, a hint of tobacco lingering with a scent that was so Em. She could hear your heart speeding up as she walked past, a smirk gracing her lips as she sat at her desk.
This was a game she played all day, she always loved how needy you could get for her, and watching it build was admittedly a guilty pleasure of hers, torturing you. You were so grateful when Hotch came out his office and called it a night, telling the team we had been there long enough, the rest of the paperwork can wait for tomorrow. We all packed up our things saying our goodbyes, JJ and Spencer staying back a little to talk as Em came over to your desk. You couldn’t help but look at her form, her legs clad with black slacks, a black and silver belt on her hips, the buckle off center, because she knew it drove you crazy every time you saw it. Her top was red and ribbed, a boatneck, exposing her collarbones. She now wore a leather jacket, to act as protection against the cool fall air (even though she didn’t need it. But hey, she had to keep up appearances), a pair of big black sunglasses in her hair as she waited for you to pack your bag. She slung her purse over her shoulder, her top riding up slightly, exposing a sliver of her stomach, where you saw the beginnings of a mark you had left from the night before. “You ready to go sweetness.” She smirked. You nodded as you put back on your blazer, your bag hanging from your shoulder.
***
The car ride home was full of tension, you were so desperate to find out what Emily was planning for you. “Don’t be so nervous darling, I think you’ll like my little surprise” She smiles, glancing at you before bringing her eyes back to the road. Now that… that scared you. A fucking menace.
When you finally pulled up your shared house, your heart definitely picked up. “God you’re so sexy when I can hear your blood pumping through your veins, all of it just for me.” She said before she left the car, leaving you groaning in the passenger seat before finally opening the door to catch up to her as she unlocked the front door.
As you walked through your front door, the both of you sat your bags on the table in your hallway, slipping off your shoes and hanging up your jackets. The second you were done Emily’s hand was on your wrist, pulling you into her, her lips automatically connecting with your neck. You couldn’t help but bring your hands to her hair, tugging slightly (something she loved), a groan escaping your lips as her teeth nipped along the skin there. “Em, please” you whimpered, you couldn’t take it anymore. You were already ruined from all the teasing at work, you truly couldn’t take it anymore.
“What is it sweetness? Are you that desperate. I might have to tease you a little longer if you’re gonna be impatient.” Your head immediately shook. That was the last thing you wanted her to do. “No please Emmy, please… i cant take it.” she couldn’t help but smirk, her fangs sheathing. jesus christ. It got you every time. No matter how many times you had seen them or how many times she fed, your knees always buckled when you saw them.
She ran her fangs along the exposed part of your neck, never piercing skin, but enough to make you wince. She was all hands, tugging your pencil skirt and white turtleneck off of you as you walked to your bedroom. You were left in your bra and panties, distracted by the feeling of Emily’s hands and lips all over you. She moved you toward the bed until the back of your legs hit it, causing you to fall backwards with her on top of you. She continued her journey down your body, kissing your tummy, stopping at the mark from last night, kissing it gently before running her tongue over it in gentle circles. You couldn’t help the whimpers that escaped your throat. She was so close to where you wanted, yet so far. With her on top of you, you couldn’t help but notice she was still fully clothed. Your hands slid down her sides, stopping at the hem of her shirt, gently tugging it up. “Emmy,” you whined, “You have too many clothes on baby.” You whimpered, needing to feel her beneath your fingertips. You watched as she looked up at you from your stomach, her fangs exposed, a sexy smile on her lips.
“Alright baby, hang on… you’re lucky I need to taste you, or else I’d be edging you until the sun came up.” She smirked, leaving a kiss just above your belly button, before removing herself from on top of you. You watched as she took off her shirt and bra, her breasts jiggling slightly from their release, her hands sliding her slacks down her beautiful legs. “I’ll be right back sweetness, why don’t you take the rest of that off.” she says bending down to place a kiss on your lips, biting down on your bottom lip, before releasing it with a gentle tug walking to the bathroom in your room. Your eyes closed at the sensation, before falling off the bed, tugging your panties down your legs and your bra off your chest, throwing them god knows where. You laid on the bed patiently waiting for her to return, your body practically shaking in anticipation. Your thighs rubbing together to give yourself any semblance of friction.
You heard her footsteps, your head lolling to the side to watch her. Your eyes immediately fell to the harness across her hips, the dark red dildo jutting from it. “God baby, I could smell you all the way from the bathroom. All that for me? Fuck I bet your panties are ruined.” She said walking toward the bed. You, however, were in disbelief. The image of Em in the strap, her fangs jutting from her gums and her breasts on full display... you were practically drooling at the sight of her. She had never used the strap during your feeding before being that it was all still a little new.
“Jesus Em.” You breathed. The smirk that played on her lips as she joined you on the bed could have made you cum right there. Your hand placed itself on her thigh, stroking it gently as she straddled your waist.
“Baby, why don’t you get it wet for me, so I can fuck you while I feed.” Your eyes darkened at the idea. This woman was going to be the death of you. You nodded slowly as she moved a little closer to your mouth, you sitting up on your elbows to reach. Emily watched as your mouth wrapped around the dark red appendage, sucking just the tip, before sliding down further, eventually taking the full dildo in your mouth, your nose brushing against her tummy. She watched with her mouth agape, moaning when the base of it nudged against her clit. Her hands falling to your hair to move the strands from your face. “Fuck sweetness, you take me so well. I could watch you like this all night.” You did this for only a minute longer, before Emily’s hunger got too much for her to bear. She pulled you gently from her cock by your hair, your chest heaving as you caught your breath. Fuck she looked so hot above you with those fangs.
“I heard that baby,” she smirked. She leaned down to kiss your messy lips. Your hand moved to her chest, kneading her breasts, her moaning into your mouth as you tweaked her sensitive nipples with your fingers. You felt as her legs settled between yours, her cock nudging against your core. You couldn’t help but kiss down her jaw to her neck, moving down to her breasts, your tongue circling around her sensitive buds. She whimpered above you, you always loved when you could make her do that.
You didn’t want to stop but she pulled away from you, kneeling between your legs. Her fingers trailed up your thighs and she scooted closer to your core, the tip nudging your entrance. “Fuck baby, you look so pretty like this.” She murmured, before pushing into you. Your head fell back as she let you adjust to her size. “Nuh-uh baby, none of that, keep those pretty little eyes on me, I wanna see you before I feed.” She said, her hand coming to your chin, forcing you to maintain eye contact as she began to move. Her pace was slow and gentle, her hands grasping your neck quickly before running itself between the valley of your breasts, down to your tummy, her hand splayed out, pressing down gently which caused you to moan. “God you look so beautiful sweetness. Ok, I’m gonna start feeding now. Just trust me baby.” She moaned, the base of the strap hitting her just right as her hips kept moving. You nodded quickly, words unable to form at the image in front of you.
Emily leaned down, her lips leaving gentle kisses on the side of your neck, it turning into wet kisses before you felt her fangs sink into your skin slowly. “Fuck.” You stuttered, the feeling of her fangs piercing your skin, and her hips moving into you driving you insane. You could already feel your head getting woozy from the combined sensations. You could feel Em moaning against your neck as she picked up her pace, her hips starting to snap into you as she fed, the taste of you driving her crazy. The feeling of the base of her cock pushing against her clit combined with the taste of you, was almost too much for her. You could feel her hips start to falter as she continued her feed, your orgasm building like walls around you, ready to crumble at any moment. “E-Emmy, t-too much. H-head getting woozy.” You moaned, your hand gripping at her waist as if to almost push her away. “F-fuck Em, p-please.” She finally released you, licking the blood that dripped from your neck before sitting up again. When she came back up, you watched as blood dripped from the corners of her mouth, falling down her chest as her hips picked up their pace, you could tell she was chasing her impending orgasm. You had never seen a sexier sight, Emily’s boobs swaying as she snapped her hips into you, blood dripping down them, her mouth a bloodied, baring her fangs. You sat up with all the strength you had, your tongue licking the blood that had trickled down her breast, the sight breaking Emily above you.
“F-Fuck baby, c’mon cum with me.” You didn’t need to be told twice. You were already so close and the taste of Emily mixed with the coppery taste of your own blood sent you over the edge. You couldn’t help the noises that escaped your lips as you came, Emily fucking you through both of your orgasms.
When her hips finally stopped, she fell on top of you, her lips softly kissing her feed mark. “You did so fucking good for me sweetness, such a good girl” she whispered against your skin as she laid there for a minute. Your limbs were practically jelly. You were fucked out and woozy, exactly how Emily liked you. You whimpered as she removed her strap, the sudden emptiness almost too much for you. You watched through hazy eyes as she took it off, throwing it toward the bathroom for proper cleaning later. She moved back to you, pulling you into her, you head laying on her bare chest. “I can feel your heart darling, it’s pumping so fast.” She breathed against the top of your head, kissing it gently. Her hands gently roamed your body. “Thank you baby. You did so good for me baby, you tasted as sweet as ever. Next time I’m gonna have to feed while you cum, it’ll probably be even sweeter.” She whispered. You just nodded, your body still fucked out. “Use your words sweetness.”
“You’re welcome Emmy.” You rasped, a smirk appeared on her lips before she kissed her way from the top of your head to your lips, her hand holding your chin as she placed a gentle kiss there. You laid in her arms for a while as you waited for the wooziness to go away. Once that happened, she began the aftercare routine the both of you had perfected after a feed. She ran a warm bath for you, settling behind you to help you bathe, leaving little kisses and praises in her wake. This was always one of your favorite parts.
After the bath, she would help you put on your body butters and oils before helping you get dressed, and in bed as she brought you small snacks and water. You took a couple nibbles of the protein bar she had brought and a couple of sips of water before laying back on her, wanting nothing than to be in her arms.
“Seriously, thank you baby.”
“Anything for you Emmy.” You smiled, placing a quick peck to her cheek before completely settling on her chest, your heartbeats synching as the both of you fell asleep, tangled in each other's limbs.
#emily prentiss#emily prentiss smut#emily prentiss x reader#lesbian emily prentiss#wlw#lesbian#back in my writing bag#criminal minds fic#vampire au#criminal minds#emily prentiss x female reader#im gay#vampire!emily prentiss#vampire criminal minds
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we need finnick odair x reader comfort sex after she’s had a bad day
OK. first time writing sm like this guys...
A Little Loving.
finnick odair x fem reader (post-rebellion: married w/ a daughter) content warnings: nsfw, fluffy comfort sex, pet names, praise, p in v, fingering
masterlist.
The house was finally quiet. After a day full of tantrums Coralie had finally fallen asleep, her soft snores barely audible from her room down the hall.
Finnick, sitting upright in the bed, his back leaned against the headboard had his eyes fixated on the bedroom door. He had been waiting for you to come out of the bathroom.
When you entered the bedroom, you leaned against the frame for a second, you were exhausted.
"Rough day," he said softly, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips.
"Understatement," you murmured, closing the door behind you as you stepped inside.
He takes in your tired, drawn expression. He pats the spot next to him on the bed. "Come here, angel" he says softly.
You climb into the bed and he's quick to pull you into his embrace. He runs his hand lightly up and down your back, trying to soothe your weary, stressed-out body.
"Relax, baby." he murmurs. "Let me take care of you, alright?"
Once you relax against him, he shifts you over a little so that you're sitting between his legs, your back pressed against his chest.
You rest your head on his chest and feel him tug the fabric of your shirt to expose your shoulder.
"I want to take care of you tonight, angel" he murmurs in your ear, his voice low and seductive. "Let me take care of you…make you feel good…"
You let out a soft whine and lean closer to him.
Grinning and clearly pleased that he’s got you in the mood already, he presses a kiss to your neck, his lips soft and warm against your skin.
"That’s it, angel. Just relax. Let me take care of you…" He murmurs against your neck, his breath hot against your skin.
He nips gently at your neck, his teeth grazing your skin softly. One of his hands slowly slides up yout thigh, his touch warm and light through the thin fabric of your shorts causing your breath to hitch. "F-Finn-"
He smiles against your skin, his hand moving higher up your thigh. He presses another kiss to your neck, this one slightly lower than the last.
"Shhh, angel. Just relax. You’re mine tonight. Just let me take care of you."
You whine and buck your hips towards his hand, causing him to laugh a little. He knows he’s got you right where he wants. He moves his hand between your legs, rubbing gently at the sensitive area through your clothes.
"F-Finnick..." you moan out softly.
"That’s it, angel. I want to hear you say my name. Over and over again."
He rubs his fingers against you again, applying more pressure this time and moving slowly in a circular motion.
You moan a little louder and Finnick brings his hand to cover your mouth. "Shhh...gotta keep quiet...We don’t need to wake up Coralie, do we? I’d hate to have to stop and check on her if she woke up" as he speaks, he moves his fingers again, rubbing a little harder and faster.
You whine into his hand and shake your head.
"Good...good girl" he whispers as he takes his hand off of your mouth.
You turn your head to burry your face into his chest. You grasp at his shirt and moan. "F-Finnick- Finnick-"
"You like that, angel? You like the way I touch you? The way I know your body better than anyone else?"
You nod and whine as he moves your underwear to the side and then he pushes two of his fingers in. "F-Finny!"
He keeps up for a while...then you feel him stop and tp you thigh.
"Lift your hips up f'me baby" he whispers.
You comply and feel him tug your shorts and underwear down.
Then he lays you down on the bed, your legs parted open for him.
He smiles as he hovers over you, leaning down to kiss you deeply. You hook your arms around his neck and kiss him back. As you both kiss, Finnick moves to pull his pants and boxers down.
He breaks the kiss and grins down at you, leaning down to nuzzle his face into your neck. He presses kisses there then he moves his hips forward, pressing his pelvis against yours.
"You ready for this, angel?"
You nod, "Yes..."
He smiles and adjusts his position, resting his weight on his forearms on either side of your head. He looks into your eyes, the look in his gaze filled with love and desire.
"Just relax, angel. I’ve got you."
He slowly and gently pushes into you.
You moan and he presses gentle kisses to your skin as he begins to move inside you. "You feel so good, angel. So perfect."
You run your fingers through his hair, "F-Finnick…you feel so good…"
He groans as you runs your hands through his hair, the feeling sending shivers down his spine. He starts to move his hips a little faster, his breath hitching as he feels you tighten around him.
“You’re so tight, angel. So perfect…all mine…”
You moan and wrap your legs around him. "Finnick- oh god- Finnick-"
He moans and moves his hips faster, "Angel...my pretty angel...you feel so good baby...so good…I’m so close, baby…so close…"
You grasp at his shoulders, Finnick groaning as he feels your nails scratch at his skin.
He moans louder, his breath coming in sharp gasps now. He can feel himself getting closer to the edge, his body tensing up as he gets closer and closer. He dips his head down and kisses your neck, his lips moving against her skin.
"Come with me, princess. Come for me."
You whine and reach your peak, your body clenching tightly around him. He buries his face in your neck, his body shaking as he releases inside of you. He pants against your skin, his breath hot and ragged.
"Angel…angel, you were incredible…"
You smile and kiss the side of his head. "You were incredible Finn..."
He smiles and kisses your cheek, "I love you...so much"
"I love you too Finn....
He relaxes into you, his body feeling boneless and satisfied as he holds you in his arms. After a moment, he lifts his head up slightly so he can look into your eyes.
"Are you feeling better, princess? More relaxed?"
You nod, "Thank you for this Finny...I love you" you say lovingly, whining as he pulls out.
"Shhh, princess. I’m just going to clean up real quick, alright?"
You nod and watch him climb out of bed and head into the bathroom. He comes back a few moments later with a warm, wet cloth. He cleans you up gently, wiping away any trace of what you guys did. Then he tosses the cloth into the hamper and climbs back into bed, pulling you against him.
You cuddle close to him, "I love you...I love you so much. Thank you for always being here with me."
He smiles and pulls you even closer, wrapping his arms tightly around you. He kisses the top of you head, his lips lingering against your hair.
"I'll always be here with you angel. I love you. More than anything in the world. I love you."
(A/N: I THINK THIS WENT KINDA OKAY?????? I FELT SO AWKWARD WRITING IT THOUGH KNJSNMFJA)
#finnick odair#finnick odair x reader#thg finnick#finnick fanfic#finnick#hunger games finnick#finnick x reader#finnick x you#finnick oneshot#finnick odair imagine#finnick odair smut#finnick imagine#isa’s thoughts#anon ask
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SHOW ME WHO YOU ARE .ᐟ ── PITFIGHTER VI. been wanting to do something like this for a while now omg. i keep thinking about @shouyuus’s work and i decided to make my own version, because … i have rotted for far too long over this woman and i cannot lose any more sleep.
TAGS . . . 18+ !!! , f.reader , meeting at the bar , drunk vi , but she sobers up as she fucks you , vi yearning for you .
+ @eveningatthemoviesnetwork @thehoneypotserver @pixelcafe-network <33 tysm guys
ᯓ ݁˖ PITFIGHTER VI probably spotted you across the bar she always crashes into after her bloodied wins. she’d definitely give you a look and continue to stare even when you catch her, her eyes darkened and her brows furrowed as if she’d met you before and that non-existent encounter held a gory weight.
˖ ✶ PITFIGHTER VI pushed past all the people dancing and flailing around just to get to you. some poor guy even tripped and fell on his ass just from her drunken shove alone—and seeing as she too were fighting ghosts to keep from swaying, it couldn’t have been that strong of a push. then again—this is vi, the pitfighter champion.
ᯓ ݁˖ PITFIGHTER VI somehow had the balls to let loose in front of you while you were trying to dance by yourself. you surprisingly didn’t mind despite how heavy her glances were, and it was almost telepathic how you both communicated wordlessly when you allowed her hands to rest on your waist.
˖ ✶ PITFIGHTER VI kisses like she didn’t wreak of cheap liquor, her tongue nearly pinning your own down from how aggressive she was with needing to feel you on her. chest to chest, she supported your back when she continued to push against you like she knew she had this horrible habit of greed, of needing everything from something as sweet as you in three seconds, physical limitations be damned.
ᯓ ݁˖ PITFIGHTER VI cursed herself when she grabbed your hand and led you back to her room, knowing exactly how disgusting and grimy her sweat-filled bed was and had of course decided she’d rather get a slap to the face for even thinking you’d ever lie down on that thing than not try at all. what do you take her for, a madwoman? with a girl like you, she would be if she didn’t take you somewhere when you gave her enthusiastic consent.
˖ ✶ PITFIGHTER VI seems like she’s begging to get lockjaw when her tongue swirls anxiously around your clit, every so often flicking upwards in that sweet spot she’d discovered made you squeal and arch your back. how you reached new heights in both your moans and your nerves when she very carefully slipped a finger in, her thumb replacing her tongue when she rose up again and let you taste yourself on her tongue without warning. you grabbed her shoulders as if you want to shove her away, and when she entertains the idea that you could in fact hold a candle to her strength, she just huffed and smiled before going, “you opened your mouth, princess. don’t tell me you didn’t like that.”
ᯓ ݁˖ PITFIGHTER VI finally gets to fucking you and holy shit she was waiting so painfully long for you—her first strokes of her clit against your own were rough from the very start, both of you soaking and bubbling from everything that had been happening tonight—except she held out on her own pleasure just so she could see you come undone on her tongue and fingers. She bucks her hips against you roughly and the initial contact is explosive—you both moan in unison, yours higher and shakier as if racing her to something. you fell limp right after that first stroke and she continued to hold your leg up against her, hips bucking at a frenzied pace like she could see your orgasm approaching quickly, stopping at nothing to claw and fight to bring it back down to earth and let it spill all over her.
˖ ✶ PITFIGHTER VI has a death grip on your thighs and your waist when you cum, making sure you don’t squirm away now as your clit and hers throb in an unspoken rhythm like they’ve done this before and have made their shapes match perfectly with where contact is made and rubbed and heightened. You’re certain there’ll be bruises where her thumbs dug into her skin, and you can see it on her face the way one corner of her lips turn up just because she managed not to dig her nails into your skin but oh fuck is it going to bruise. she doesn’t even seem to realize, she’s too drunk on your clit to think now.
ᯓ ݁˖ PITFIGHTER VI cums and you scream because she pushes her clit all the way up yours like she wants to take up all of you in a capacity physically and biologically impossible for either of you—but she pulls your leg and waist towards her anyway, screaming your name when she cums and she pants, letting her grip lax finally as half-mast black-smeared eyes drag up your body from one last lick of the view before she collapses next to you, both of you panting and taking in the liquor and sweat.
˖ ✶ PITFIGHTER VI found the strength in her to somehow get up and pass you her waterbottle. when you tried to sit up, you winced and she snapped her head back to you only to put the waterbottle aside and slide a leg under your knee, her left arm slipping under the curves and lumps of your back and its bones before lifting you like you were wind ready to slip away. “hey woah woah—i’ve got you,” she muttered and you swore stars circled your head at how incredibly gentle she sounded, as if someone else’s sweet, unused and unexercised voice made it into such a hard-trained throat and still managed to stay soft despite everything. her hand’s grip was tight but her arms were so stable you might as well have been lying on a rock or a bumpy wall.
ᯓ ݁˖ PITFIGHTER VI lent you her jacket when she offered to at least send you off to wherever you needed to be in the morning. you were about to shrug the jacket off when it was time to leave but she chuckled weakly as her hands weigh it down on your shoulders, keeping it there before going, “nah, return it to me when we see each other next time. i’ll be at the bar every night.”
˖ ✶ PITFIGHTER VI lost her mind even more than she already had when you didn’t return for the next three days. her punching bag broke from its chain, stuffing blasting in her face and she had to go through one hell of a hassel to get a new one. but all she thought of was you and so she was ending fights quicker, thinning her voice and reducing it to a coarse hair of a sound from all the screaming. even if she had wiped the spot where both of you came, she flipped her mattress the moment she found the stain.
ᯓ ݁˖ PITFIGHTER VI jacked off to you eventually, needing to forget you quickly but after cumming found that it just might be her end because she can’t forget how sweet you smell, the taste of you somehow still lingering when a week or two have gone by and she’s weakened by the lack of your essence—not just from your clit but from the saccharine flowers that you managed to plant in her head and her chest with the memory of your smile, eyes narrowed like it was making room for such a pretty thing. she can’t breathe when she jacks off to you, remembering how your hips twitched into her at how good her clit felt against hers.
#vi x reader#vi x you#vi x y/n#vi arcane#arcane#netflix arcane#arcane netflix#arcane violet#violet x reader#violet x you#violet x y/n#vi fanfic#arcane fanfic#arcane fandom#arcane smut#lipsent.dvds#lipsent . . . works
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hiii! I'm a big fan of yours !!
Can I request ? Bcs like I love Agatha but I barely find fluff of her it's just smut, I know it's good but we need fluff 2!!!
( something very domestic fluff, maybe based on wandavison Agatha! )
Little Temptress
Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Fem! Reader
Summary: A relaxing afternoon with Agatha.
Fluff
Warnings: Slight suggestive themes? Talks of skinny dipping/being naked. | 0.8K
AC: Thank you for sending this! I hope you enjoy! x
The late afternoon sun casted a long, warm shadows across the living room of the Harkness house in Westview. You were curled up on the sofa with a worn-out book in your lap, the sun’s warmth distracting you from the words in front of you. Enjoying the gentle breeze that drifted through the open window.
Agatha was in the kitchen, softly humming a tuneless melody while she moved about, wanting to make you a warm mug of tea to drink while you read your book. The world outside never really saw this soft side of Agatha. To them, she was a loving neighbor who loved a bit of gossip and always had a sarcastic remark for everything.
“Extra milk, just how you like it” she said, her voice low and soft not to disturb you too much.
You smiled, taking the mug from her, “you read my mind! Thanks, honey”
“Call it my sixth sense!” The woman with long wavy brown hair winked.
You chuckled at her playful remark, “it’s a bit too quiet today, don’t you think?” You asked.
Agatha lightly shrugged, “Honey, you should hear the rambling Dottie was going on about today! And between you and I, something weird is happening at the Maximoff house”
“How so?” You questioned with a light frown and a quick sip of your tea.
“It’s practically humming with… chaotic potential” she said, taking a seat beside you.
You raised a brow, “humming? You mean like a refrigerator?”
“Oh, far more dramatic than that” she chuckled, “Vision seems to be on edge a lot” she added.
“Well, I’m sure with you keeping an eye on them, they’ll be fine” you teased, you always teased her about being the neighborhoods watch dog. She chuckled once more, “somebody has too”
You hummed at her words before taking another small sip of your tea. Almost naturally, Agatha gently placed a hand on top of your knee, “so, what would you like do on the weekend, hot stuff?”
“Mmm, what about we go out for lunch tomorrow?” You suggested, “I heard there’s a new Greek restaurant in town”
Agatha smiled softly, “I’m listening” she said she with a raised brow
“I also need to stop at the hardware store to get some gardening supplies, so maybe we could do that after” you replied, stretching your legs and carefully placing your mug on the coffee table.
“Or, instead of you getting attacked by the rose bushes again, we could do a picnic by the creek?” Agatha suggested with her lips curling into a knowing smile.
“A picnic? With you? You hate things like” you looked at her.
“If the mood strikes, we could skinny dip”
“Ahh, right” you chuckled, shaking your head playfully at her before straddling her lap, “and why would skinny dipping be on your list of things to do?” You asked. Her hands resting on your hips as she looked up at you with a mischief grin on her lips. “Oh honey, it’s not for me. I know how much you’ve wanted to go skinny dipping before, my little temptress”.
“Or is this just your way to see me naked?” You cocked a brow at her. Agatha chuckled, “honey, I don’t need to take you skinny dipping to see you naked, we save water every morning” she reminded you.
You leaned closer, your nose almost touching hers, a smirk playing on your own lips. "So, it's purely out of the goodness of your heart then?" You purred, your fingers teasing the edge of her shirt. "You're just selflessly fulfilling my deepest desires?"
Agatha’s grin widened, “something like that” she said. Her fingers now tracing lazy circles on your hips, sending a shiver down your spine. “Though I must admire, the thought of you splashing around all bare and breathtaking….it’s rather appealing image” her voice dropped that made your heart skip a beat.
“Breathtaking, hmm?” You repeated, one hand going to cup her cheek, “and you expect me to believe that’s the only reason?” You lowered your head until your lips were a breath away from hers. She tilted her head slightly, her gaze locking with yours, “alright, maybe there is a tiny benefit in it for me” she said in an almost whisper before your lips locked with hers. Her fingers tightened on your hips, deepening the kiss while the image of skinny dipping flashed through her mind.
Pulling away, you smiled against her lips, “well, who am I to deny a little selflessness?” You nuzzled into her neck, breaking in her familiar scent. There was no need for further discussion. A silent agreement passed between the two of you. The afternoon was spent in each other's arms, enjoying the peace that comforted the two of you. Agatha, not that she was a great one, cooked dinner for you both to enjoy while making her watch a trashy rom-com.
“Honey, promise me one thing” you looked up at her.
“What’s that cutie?” She asked.
“Don’t cook anything for our picnic” you chuckled, making her playfully roll her eyes at you. “I was going to get Wanda to whip something up” she confessed.
“Of course you were” you replied, still giggling at her reaction.
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#yelenasdiary asks#anon#fanfiction#marvel#Agatha harkness#Agatha harkness x reader#Agatha harkness x you#Agatha all along
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Bruised and Bloody
Note: Who is ready for some Simon Riley angst? I fear he's vastly ooc...my apologies. Part 2 if people like it?
Warnings: angst, mentions of past abuse, Simon Riley hating himself
Summary: Y/N Riley wakes up alone in bed and wondering where her husband is, he's having a rough night and needs some reassurance.
Simon Riley was a complicated man, with a complicated past and most of it was unpleasant. During the day it was easy to keep the memories at bay, he kept himself busy, either on missions, training or with his wife Y/N. Nighttime was the worst. It was during the night that he often found himself unable to sleep, staring at the ceiling for hours on end as his memories poured, from missions gone bad, all the way back to his childhood. And they were vivid, so much so that he swore he could touch, feel and smell what was happening. There was a sadness which as the night wore on would turn into anger and sometimes fear. It was particularly bad on the nights immediately after returning from assignments. Tonight was one of those nights.
Y/N rolled over in her sleep, reaching for him to cuddle into his side, she was cold, and he was a furnace…except he wasn’t there, and his side of the bed was cold. She blinked rapidly, clearing the fog from her brain and letting her eyes focus and looking at the clock, just after 3 am. Sure enough, he was gone, and she knew exactly where he would be. She swung her legs out of the bed, pulled on the pair of socks she had thrown on the floor before bed and grabbed Simon’s hoodie from the bottom of the bed, putting it on, it was so big that it covered her knees. Quietly, she made her way downstairs, bypassing the living room and heading directly for their basement. Before she even reached the stairs, she could hear him grunting and the rapid thumping of his fists violently attacking the punching bag he had set up ages ago.
As Y/N made it halfway down the stairs she could see he was sweating, Y/N could see it dripping off his bare back. She could tell he’d been down here for hours just by how exhausted he looked. She could also see that he hadn’t wrapped his hands first, something she’d begged him to do repeatedly. He often said that he was a broken man, a cold-hearted one, all Y/N saw though was a man who needed to be comforted and loved, and she was more than happy to provide it.
Y/N watched him for a few minutes, he had no idea that she was there, completely lost in his desire to beat the absolute hell out of the punching bag. If he was just down here working, Y/N would think it was hot, the mix of strikes, jabs and everything else he is doing, the sight of him without a shirt alone would do her in…But Simon was clearly having a bad night, the sounds of his hands hitting the leather getting louder and more rapid. Y/N had to get him to stop before he hurt himself.
Y/N sighed quietly, knowing better than to startle him. That had happened once and only once, and it had not been pretty. She stayed back by the stairs before finally speaking up, just loud enough that she knew he would hear her.
“Simon? Come back to bed. Please?” She watched Simon freeze in place, his breathing heavy and ragged, fist remaining in the air as he’d been mid-punch, Y/N could already tell that his knuckles were going to be bruised from the relentless abuse Simon had inflicted. He took a deep breath before turning his head to look at Y/N with a look that could only be a mixture of anger, exhaustion and a hint of fear. He didn’t say a word but lowered his hand.
Y/N took his pause as permission to creep forward, moving slowly towards him before wrapping her arms around him from behind. “You okay?” She asked, her hands resting on his stomach. She felt the muscles tense under her touch, but he didn’t protest or remove them. Y/N’s warmth was comforting against his back. A light in his darkness.
He didn’t answer immediately, taking a moment to let silence pass between them before finally answering. “No,” he admitted, his voice lower and hoarser than it usually was. Y/N squeezed him gently, he was being honest tonight, that was a good sign.
“Okay. What can I do to help?” she asked softly. Normally, Simon would say there wasn’t anything she could do, that he was fine, and he was just blowing off steam.
Tonight however, Simon leaned back into Y/N’s embrace, his shoulders relaxing under her touch and he let out a sigh, his exhausted seeping into his voice. “I…don’t know. “He started. “I just need…” He trailed off, he didn’t know how to put into words what he needed, he wasn’t used to expressing when he needed something/ His tough exterior hid his feelings well but in the rare moments like tonight he would allow the cracks in his armor show, but only for Y/N.
Y/N could feel the weight of his emotions, the struggle of a man who had spent most of his life burying his trauma and pain under a normally stoic demeanor. It had always been hard for him to open to people, here right now in the early hours of the morning he was letting his guard slip. He continued to lean against Y/N, seeking comfort in her embrace and craving the connection and comfort that only she could provide him.
Without letting go of him, Y/N maneuvered herself around him so that she was facing him. Slowly she traced her fingers up to his stomach, to his chest and finally rested them on his shoulders, or as well as she could, considering how small she was compared to his 6’4 frame.
Simon’s gaze remained fixed on the floor, his eyes distant and unfocused. In her new position, Y/N could read his face more clearly, his brows were furrowed, and his lips were in a thin line, his jaw tense as he ground his teeth together. He didn’t move away though, instead he leaned into her touch, his fingers twitching as if he wanted to reach out and hold her but held himself back. Y/N trailed one hand down his right arm, all the way until she reached his hand, gently lifting it to inspect the damage.
She tsked as she saw the angry cracks, blood and bruising of his knuckles. Caressing them gently she looked up at him sadly. “Baby, I really wish you’d at least wrap your hands…”
Simon watched her with careful eyes, wincing slightly as her fingers ran over the sore spots. He knew he’d done this to himself, again, continuing his self-destructive pattern that they both knew so well.
“I know,” He mumbled, his voice sounding raw and gruff. “I just…needed to feel something, anything, just something I could control.” He tried to pull his hand back, not wanting her to see the true extent of the damage he’d caused to himself.
Y/N shook her head. “Please don’t hide from me Simon.”
She watched as his jaw clenched, resignation and frustration clear on his face. He knew she was the last person he should hide from, but the fear of opening and being vulnerable, even to his wife, made him want to make a quick retreat. However, he allowed her to continue inspecting his hand, rough and callused, his hands were a testament to his military career and the battles fought both on and off the battlefield.
Y/N brought his hand up to her lips, kissing his knuckles gently before letting go and reaching for his left. She sighed when she saw that he had left his wedding ring on, if his knuckles were anymore swollen, she would have been concerned that it would have to be cut off. She caressed his left hand the same way she had done the right, before kissing it and leaning up to wrap her arms around his neck, her fingers moving to play in his short brown hair.
“I wish you trusted me enough to come to me on nights like this Simon, I can help. I know it’s hard and you’re stubborn, but I love you.” She said softly to him.
Simon shook his head. “I trust you,” He whispered, a slight crack in his voice. “I just…I can’t lay this all on you Sunshine. I won’t burden you.”
Y/N smiled softly at him. “It’s not a burden Si, I’m your wife, for better or for worse.”
Simon’s eyes met hers, conflict and pain fading from his gaze. Y/N always understood and accepted him, which only made him love her more, but it didn’t stop him from feeling guilt for putting her through his often turbulent moods. His large hands moved to her hips, holding her close as if he was scared, she’d disappear. He swallowed hard, trying to find the words. “I don’t want to hurt you.” His voice is barely above a whisper. “I don’t want to lose you.” His jaw was tense and his grip on her hips tightened, seeking some kind of reassurance from her. The vulnerability in his eye betrayed the usual façade of strength that he wore as a second skin.
Y/N gripped his arms, staring directly into his shining eyes. “You aren’t going to hurt me, and you certainly aren’t going to lose me. You are stuck with me Simon Riley, in this lifetime and all others.” She promised softly.
Simon was never the sentimental type, but her words struck a chord deep within him. He pulled her closer, his large arms wrapping around her waist tightly as he buried his face in her neck taking a shaky breath and surrounding himself with her warmth like a safe haven. She could barely hear it but she froze when he heard him whisper. “I don’t deserve you.”
Her heart broke a little, it wasn’t the first time that he’d said it, but it was the first time she was letting him know that she heard it. “Simon, I want you to listen to me and listen good yeah?” I moved one hand to card through his hair. “You deserve the world, you deserve to be loved, you deserve to be happy. I don’t care what your bastard of a father told you when you were a kid.”
She watched him close his eyes. “But I’m broken love.” He murmured. “After everything I’ve done, everything I’ve seen…You should be running for the hills.”
Y/N sighed sadly, tugging on his hand and leading him to the bench along the wall. “Sit, you’re too tall for me to do this standing.”
He did as she asked, his body was too tired and aching after his latest mission and now having beat the hell out of the punching bag for hours. Once he was seated, Y/N moved to stand between his thighs, resting her hands on his shoulders. Simon looked up at her, just waiting.
“You are not broken Simon, a little rough around the edges, but not broken.” I murmured. “I will always want you Simon, please never doubt that. You have seen terrible things and gone through so much bad shit. But you’ve also spent your entire life trying to help people. You have saved thousands of lives and get no thanks for it. That takes an incredibly special kind of person.”
Y/N could see him readying himself to argue so she cut him off. “You are my everything Simon, I would be lost without you, and I will spend every day making sure that you know it.”
Simon’s features softened and he reached up to pull her hands off his shoulders so that he could hold them. He had spent so long believing that he didn’t deserve to be loved, but Y/N’s unwavering devotion was a constant in his life now, even after 5 years together it surprised him. His grip tightened, his calloused fingers intertwined with her much smaller and softer one, he pulled her close so that he could embrace her fully.
“Damn it, I really don’t deserve you, Sunshine.” He murmured, his voice thick with emotions.
Y/N rolled her eyes and snorted. “I believe was just went over this, you do, and I will not accept that you don’t, you stubborn man. I can be stubborn too you know.”
Simon let out a soft chuckle. He knew her too well and her stubbornness when it came to him was unyielding. He leaned his forehead against her stomach, a deep sigh escaping him. “If only the world knew how stubborn my wife is.”
She smiled down at him, with one hand moving to his hair. “I have to be to be able to handle you.”
Simon’s eyes closed as he leaned against her, simply enjoying the closeness. He opened them again when she tugged on his hair gently. “Come on Si, let’s go to bed.”
He was exhausted and released the grip he had around her waist, and with a tired smile he nodded, letting her pull him up before he took her hand and led her up the basement stairs before taking the next set of stairs to the bedroom. The walk was slow and silent, Simon’s body was weary, his usual confident stride replaced with a sluggish pace. Once in the bedroom he lowered himself slowly onto the bed, groaning as he did.
Y/N watched carefully, his normally sharp and alert gaze was weighed down by physical and mental fatigue. He took a deep breath, his shoulders rising and falling with movement. His gaze turned to hers and he patted the spot beside him. “Come on love,”
Y/N slid under the covers with him, immediately settling into his arms, head on his chest, his wrapped around her back. She started drawing small patterns on his chest with her finger. “Si?”
He turned his head to look at her in the darkness, just barely making out the shape of her. “Yes love?” he asked with a squeeze of his arm.
“I love you.”
She felt Simon immediately relax. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and he leaned just enough to press a gentle kiss onto her lips. “I love you too,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “More than you could ever imagine.”
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Circe could feel the most destructive parts of Greed loosen its grip on Regalia. What was left in her beautiful heart were memories together with new wishes free from painful darkness. What had once been drowned in poison started to grow with a tender glow. Former desires of domination had less meaning and attraction now that she started to connect with her newfound humanity. This was an incredible turn of event worthy of praise and more love.
“I’m glad to hear it and I’m so excited to discover new things together with you. I want to spend the rest of my days loving the new you as much as I love your past self.” She smiled happily while inhaling her scent of blossoming lavender. “Your heart is free from poison, love.” This moment of dream and distant memories couldn’t be more soothing. Each scent was filled with experiences from a different life filled with security as well as hardships. Every touch of grass against bare legs came with pictures of a heart warming community that no longer exist. It was a perfect place for them to rest and enjoy the company of each other. They were safe to express feelings of fear or happiness. She could hold her closely and speak clearly without a physical body in the realm of a beautiful fantasy. All of this was Regalia’s creative mind bringing them closer together. There were no walls keeping Circe out anymore. This was now the place of their wedding ceremony to take place before they would start over as a married couple. Circe looked into her eyes with fluttering eyelashes and cherry colored cheeks as Regalia made her wedding vows. It was spoken with a warm honesty that could mop the floor with every other proposal attempt Regalia had ever done before. “Oh, Regalia.” She chuckled softly while leaning to have their foreheads together. “There is no debt to pay because you saved my life as well.” If it wasn’t for Regalia’s bravery she might have been swallowed by the sin of Greed and absorbed into an empty shell of herself. “You better not take another woman but if you do I will demand us to be equally loved.”
Circe followed her wandering gaze and took part in every memory that followed each sensation. It was a calming atmosphere bringing her to tear up with how empty it would be to leave. Regalia’s temporary hiding place was a far cry from this sunny paradise of warmth and belonging. It would be a brutal awakening after their engagement and wedding in a fantastical landscape with fluttery emotions rising high between them. There was a longing in her to build a similar lifestyle sometime in the future. A beautiful house surrounded by nature. Somewhere close to the coast with a beautiful ocean view. Maybe she could start over with a water sanctuary that would preserve marine animals back to health.
Circe had a hard time holding herself back from peppering Regalia with tender kisses. But she managed to wait and give room for her to speak up. “Those days lay in the past and it’s about time we move on for a better future.” Someday in a brighter future after solving the problem of Greed they would work out their shared future and patch every hurtful moment into distant memories. “You are the strongest woman I’ve ever met, with or without the sin of Greed.” After speaking up she couldn’t hold herself back from leaving more butterfly kisses on Regalia’s cheeks and nose. Both hands moved to massage and caress with great care. She couldn’t get enough of touching every inch along Regalia’s back with slow movements while pressing herself closer. “The world can wait, I need you, right now.” Circe whispered against her lips. “Kiss me like there’s no tomorrow.” She looked at her with warmth glowing in her brown eyes. There was a tremble to her parted lips as she waited for the kiss that would seal their marriage bond. It felt as if she was about to get kissed and make for the very first time. This was their own moment. Away from prying eyes and nefarious schemes. @fallesto
Regalia felt something shift within her, something she hadn’t felt in a very long time. The greed, the desire for power, and the need for more wives had been a part of her for so long that she had forgotten what it was like to be content. As she stood there, embracing Circe, she felt the last vestiges of that greed slip away like leaves in a gentle breeze. Her heart swelled with something other than desire—it was love, pure and untainted by the darkness that had once consumed her.
“I’m beginning to feel a bit different now that the darkness is no longer inside me. I’m starting to feel better and feel more like the person I was before I earned that title and the associated power. I’m gradually regaining my clarity of mind.”
Her breathing evened out as she took in the tranquil scene around them. The farm was a picture of peace, and the animals all seemed to look at them with knowing eyes. They had witnessed her transformation, her fall from grace, and now her rebirth. The air was sweet with the scent of apples, and she could hear the distant sound of laughter from the farmhouse. It was a sound that she had longed to hear again, a sound that made her feel like she belonged. Her donkey form, while simple, felt right. It was a stark contrast to the monstrous creature she had become, and it was a reminder of who she truly was deep down.
"Then, right here under this tree, just like it was a thousand years ago when I was happy and had something good, I’ll give you my vow. You're the only person that I want; you're the only one who means something to me. Your love is everything in my life, and you've saved me. I’ll forever be in your debt. I’ll never betray you, and I’ll never be with anyone else, I swear it."
She turned and looked into the distance for her memory. As a donkey, Regalia had been forced to work alongside the farmhands, to till the fields, and to carry the weight of the world—or rather, the weight of the apples—on her back. She had felt the sting of the sun and the ache of her muscles after a long day's labor. But there was something profound in that simplicity, something that had been lost in the grandiose life she had built for herself. There was a sense of respect and camaraderie that she hadn't experienced since, a time when she had truly lived and not just existed in a haze of power and desire.
The farmhands had treated her kindly, despite her being different. They had spoken to her as an equal, sharing their stories and their laughter. They had not feared her, nor had they coveted her. They had seen her for what she was—a creature doing her best to survive. And she, in turn, had learned to respect them, to understand the value of hard work and companionship. It was a stark contrast to the fear and adoration she had been surrounded by in her castle, where everyone either cowered before her or sought to manipulate her for their own ends.
"I cannot undo my past actions, nor can you. We both made mistakes and lost many people, creating a lot of enemies along the way. However, we now have a second chance. While I might not like feeling weak, I realize I am more valuable on my own. I can finally think clearly without the urge to lash out at the world."
As she reflected on her time as a donkey, Regalia felt a strange nostalgia. It was a simpler existence, one where the biggest decisions were about the work that needed to be done and the food that needed to be earned. The bonds she had formed with the other animals and the humans on the farm had been genuine, untainted by the need for power or status. They had all just been creatures living their lives, and she had been one of them. Circe’s arms around her felt like a warm embrace from that past life, and her gentle kisses were like whispers of those lost moments of innocence. Regalia’s heart fluttered in her chest, and she leaned into the witch, feeling the love that had been growing between them become stronger with every passing second.
“It's you and me against the world.” The warmth of the setting sun painted the sky with a palette of oranges and pinks, casting a soft glow over the couple. The air was filled with the sweet symphony of nature, a stark contrast to the cries of battle and the clanging of swords she had grown so accustomed to. As she rises up and kisses her again. Her kisses were tender and filled with a love that had grown from the depths of their shared experiences, a love that had survived betrayal and anger, and had blossomed into something beautiful. Regalia felt her heart swell with every touch, with every gentle caress of the witch’s hands. It was a feeling she had never truly appreciated before, one that she had been too blinded by power to recognize.
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(3) the trilogy. || THE DOCTOR.
in which the doctor finds the landlord's favorite missing trilogy of books on a quiet, snowy day... content: strong language, allusions to sex, kissing, fade to black fingering) word count: 3.6k
series masterlist | main masterlist
NOTE: Lots of fun stuff to come with these two soon! They're my favorite <3
———
On the days where Spencer is snowed inside, the perfect remedy should be a couple of books by the fireplace, but the fireplace is quite frankly impossible to keep up with (he never knows how much wood he actually needs and despite how many times he's tried, he swears the matchbook he has is faulty. It never starts.) And, he's read through all of the books he brought with him. Three times each.
The library is an option on a normal day, but the snowfall is so extreme that Stanton had called his house earlier in the morning to inform him that everyone had been requested to hold off on getting sick or injured until the Doctor was safe to leave his home. Sardinia is locked down for the day, he went on to explain, until the crew he'd called in to plow the roads with their heavy and capable machinery could tend to them.
For a town as small as this one, Spencer had just assumed everyone would have figured out how to manage heavy snow without calling in reinforcements. It's human nature, after all, to adapt to your surroundings and make do with what you have if not to develop a solution.
And then he looked outside, and he understood. He couldn't even see white. It was gray—the most snow he'd ever seen, caking every window and blocking him inside.
He spent a solid two hours scraping what he could off the windows and away from the door, until he created a pocket of light from the window above the couch and gave up on the rest. The wind at least had died down, the only noise available to him being his breathing and the creaks of the floor as he walked around. The sun was bright and it was above freezing, so he figured that should help melt what little bit he couldn't manage to scrape away. He showered, fought with the fireplace for another twenty-minutes out of pure boredom, and then gave up on that, too, thankful that the house had electric heating and the fireplace was merely for aesthetic purposes if nothing else.
And now, he sits on the couch, mindlessly thumbing through a book he's already read and wishing he had something else to keep him busy. Boredom only leads to wandering thoughts, and whenever he allows them to, they veer off into the inevitable direction of his landlord. Which only makes him more restless.
The very moment her beautiful, swollen and kissed-out lips enter the periphery of his brain, Spencer pushes himself off the couch and forces his legs to do the wandering instead. He doesn't even care where, he just needs to walk.
She'd been avoiding him since then—until she came to visit to have her stitches removed, and then she avoided him again. Their meeting then had been professional and straightforward, she jokingly handed him a ten-dollar bill for his trouble, and then she went home. He'd debated bringing up the kiss, maybe apologizing, but he also didn't want to risk poking the bear when, in the moment, the bear seemed relatively mollified. It was safe to assume they could silently move past it and remain civil, if not friendly, so that's what he did. He never brought it up, and they simply existed in each others' lives as background characters. No harm, no foul.
It admittedly saddens him a little, that familiar glorious fire in his body slowly dying out day by day without her spark to feed it, but... it's also safe. Given his temporary arrangement, that is exactly what he needs; Zero complications.
Still, it hadn't completely prevented his thoughts from wandering... He can't help it.
But damn it, he tries so hard.
Like now, as his feet pace back and forth along the hallway connecting his living room to the two little bedrooms on the opposite side of the cabin home. His eyes scan the oak paneling on the wall, finding it odd that one board is out farther than the others. It's not a vast difference, and to anyone walking down the hallway, it wouldn't stand out at all. But since his eyes are scanning everything with intent, something that small is impossible to unsee once it's been seen.
Spencer comes closer to inspect the wood, running his fingers along the grain when he feels the board shift a little. He presses harder, then tries with both hands to wiggle it out of place as he inspects the entire board from floor to ceiling. Eventually, he notices that the nails holding it in place are extremely rusted and barely holding the board upright.
"She has to have a toolbox hidden in this place somewhere..." he ponders, turning to search.
After finding no luck in any of the cabinets, under the kitchen or bathroom sinks, or in the coat closet, he walks back to the guest bedroom and rummages through all the knitted blankets he's collected. For a while it's like he'd find one every time he entered a new area of the cabin that he hadn't explored. A few of them lay draped over the living room furniture now, but to keep the place organized to his liking, he just haphazardly folded and piled them into the guest bedroom closet, not thinking to see if there had been anything else in there.
Sure enough, once the shelves in there are completely clear of fabric, Spencer looks all the way on the highest one and can see a small pile of something shoved in the back. He reaches for it, hoping for something useful but finding only a stack of—
Books!
Not what he'd come in here for, but he isn't about to complain. Especially since he'd really just been so bored that he went in search of a tool box to fix the most negligible problem this house could possibly have.
He flips one over and sees the words, "Agent of Seduction," embossed over a couple in embrace. There are two more, "Agent of Passion," and, "Agent of Retribution." Their covers are worn and well-loved, pages yellowed and creased, the spines barely readable. As he quickly fans through the pages, expelling the dust from its home between them, he wonders how there are even pages left. It looks (and smells, to be quite frank) like it should be falling apart at the seams.
It doesn't look like what he'd typically reach for, but... It's new. And since he really has nothing else to do...
Spencer sits down on the floor of the closet, nestled between piles of blankets, and opens to the first page of Agent of Seduction.
———
Dear Mom,
Today I might have stumbled onto the scariest story I've ever read. Not because it contains ghosts or horrors so intense that it gives you nightmares, but because of how accurately one major aspect parallels my current situation, as if I don't already feel like I'm in the Twilight Zone.
Don't get me wrong, it isn't entirely believable, especially where the crime-solving aspects are concerned. In fact, it seems like the author had merely watched something on TV and thought, "That doesn't look too hard to make up!" and thus, "Agent of Seduction" was born...
However, I'd be lying if I said I didn't get spooked by just about everything else.
The basic premise is that FBI Agent Samuel Stern must go into hiding to protect his identity from one of the most dangerous criminals the Bureau has ever encountered. In creating this brand new life for himself, he meets a woman named Rachel West, who he falls in love with. She's feisty and quick-witted, and when Samuel's past comes straight towards them like a freight train, she refuses to jump out of the way (much to Samuel's annoyance). Their relationship is built solely on fire—mutual attraction and nothing else—but while they're on the run together throughout the three books, they learn to open up and be vulnerable in a way that only enriches their feelings and the desire to truly love and be loved in return.
By now, you already know about my very own Rachel West, my landlord and the woman I can't stop thinking about... A lot of Samuel's inner monologue about her was extremely close to, if not exactly the same as, my inner monologue about Y/N. At one point near the end of the second book, Rachel gets kidnapped, and the final installment follows Samuel's journey to find her and finally exact his revenge on the criminal who has taken everything from him.
Inevitably, this journey leads Samuel to the grand realization that he's in love with Rachel, and after they finally reunite, the two of them live happily ever after.
Unfortunately, it was rather riveting.
Given the obvious major parallel here, you can also probably understand why it's spooked me. The details behind Samuel's "vacation" aren't necessarily the same as my own, but the mere fact that he works for the FBI and is protecting his identity far away from home... That in and of itself is far too much of a coincidence.
I know it's fiction. I know that real life is different from Samuel's... But I saw something in his story and in his relationship with Rachel that filled that hole of misunderstanding deep in my gut, and while I enjoyed myself for the most part, I also, unfortunately, have come to realize that I can never let myself pursue the fire and fall in love with Y/N.
I won't let her be tainted by my real life. Because if evil does, somehow, penetrate the snowy, magical borders of Sardinia and dig its claws into the purity within, there's no telling what I would do.
I can't let it happen.
———
Y/N loves snow days. Surprisingly, Sardinia doesn't see a whole lot of them— not like this anyway. It's rare that the entire town is on standby, but on the occasion that it is, she locks herself away on the back porch and watches the snow fall through the glass. It's cold, but she doesn't mind. She prefers it— hasn't known anything else, nor has she ever longed to.
The sun has started to set, and with the promise of oven-ready lasagna in just a couple of minutes, there isn't anything that could possibly dampen her perfect Sunday.
She only wishes she could figure out where she left her favorite trilogy. On snow days like these, especially back when she was in Junior High (the act of hiding them from her grandmother making the lure of the story even better, of course), reading Agent of Seduction was her favorite pastime. She'd read the entire trilogy back-to-back at least twenty times by this point, so she probably could have had it memorized. In fact, there are scenes that she has memorized, though nothing ever compares to reading them word for word.
At one point a few years ago, she'd accused her grandmother of stealing and selling them, though the woman denied it with a howling laugh. "I never gave a shit about what you read. Hell, if only you knew some of the books I hid from my mother when I was a teenager..."
At the thought of her grandmother, Y/N sighs, wishing she'd had the courage to ask her about them. The memory of cringing and quickly changing the subject is standard and funny, sure, but she hadn't known there wouldn't be much time left to even think about asking those questions.
Now, she doesn't have her grandmother or her favorite trilogy, and all she's left with is an emptiness that she hopes soon to fill with noodles and cheese.
Instead of the oven chime, three loud knocks sound at the front door, jolting her out of her reverie, and Y/N sighs again.
So much for a perfect Sunday...
Who the hell could possibly be knocking on her door today? The whole town is on lockdown... Only an idiot would be brave enough to—
"Doctor?"
Spencer's figure, sure enough, stands before her in a backdrop of golden, glittering white. His coat is caked in snow and he seems to be drowning in layers and layers of scarves, a plastic bag hanging from his hand as he manages a stiff smile; He's freezing.
"What the hell are you doing here? Don't you know the entire town is o—"
"On lockdown, yes. I know. But I brought you something."
Her instincts are telling her to usher him inside, but there's a fear that freezes her instead. Once she lets him inside on a snow day, there's no telling how long he'll stay. And those are consequences she would rather not discover today.
"Oh?" is all she can manage.
Spencer holds the bag out and she takes it. "I found these in your—er, my closet. I don't know if they belonged to you or not, but I figured it was a safe bet since it was your house... Anyway, I just... I thought I'd return them."
Opening the bag, hearing him explain, and seeing the familiar tattered cover of her favorite book all at once is like a fever dream. She almost can't believe it. In a whirlwind of emotions, she grabs the doctor by the jacket sleeve and tugs him inside without a sound, and he stumbles through the door with a start.
"What's wrong?"
"You're a fucking wizard."
"Excuse me?"
Her shaking hands gently retrieve the paperbacks from the plastic as he shuts the door behind him. She doesn't even care that he's technically been invited inside now.
Unbeknownst to her, as she fans through the pages just as he had when he found them, the sight brings a gentle smile to his lips.
"I was just thinking about these books a few minutes ago... I used to read them every snow day, over and over again to keep my mind occupied..." Then she laughs, shaking her head. "I thought I'd lost them for good. They were in your closet?"
"Mhm. Guest bedroom, all the way on the top shelf, in the back. I was looking for some blankets, a—"
"You didn't read them, did you?"
Her head snaps up and Spencer blinks at her for a moment before carefully answering, "No."
Something about it feels off to her. They stare at each other now, and suddenly she realizes the gravity of the situation, which is that he stands in her house, claiming not to have read her favorite books (which are sexually explicit in nature), even though his face clearly claims otherwise. He had brought them to her house during a weather lockdown of all days, right after she'd just been thinking about them, and she felt so grateful in the moment that the thought of kissing him on the mouth seemed like the perfect gesture of gratitude.
Obviously, there is only one outcome.
He needs to leave, now, before she does something stupid.
"You probably wouldn't like them anyway."
"Oh?"
The beguiled look on his face practically begs for elaboration, but she's not currently in the business of giving him one.
"Thank you for bringing them to me," she says, hoping to suggest finality and get him out the door. "I haven't had an entire night with no obligations to sit down and read these books in years. I'm way overdue."
He only stares back at her, his gaze unwavering in intensity. If he's disappointed at all, he doesn't show it in the least. She's afraid he might try to banter or take off his jacket, but in the end, the doctor only gives her a gentle nod.
"You're welcome."
A flood of different sensations come racing through her body then, as Spencer turns to leave; Relief that he's relenting, excitement to finally have and hold her favorite story again, hot tension under the residual potency of his staring, and the nagging feeling that whatever wildfire the two of them seem to have made together isn't actually anywhere close to being extinguished.
The door opens, swallowing the doctor in a halo of light, and just before he closes it behind him, he calls over his shoulder, "Enjoy yourself, my dear."
The paperbacks suddenly feel heavy in her hands. She almost drops them to the ground, cursing his name.
------------------------
"Go away!"
Samuel's heart nearly shattered at the crack in her voice. He couldn't bear to witness his dear Rachel and her burning flame slowly dwindle under the suffocation of his true identity. His real life, once again, had attempted to take away everything he held dear to him, and he would be damned if he let it succeed this time.
"Rachel, please! You have to have to understand, I hated having to lie to you!"
"What the fuck did you just say to me?" she screeched, whipping around and snarling in his face. Alas, her fire remained, though it was unmistakably fueled by scorching pure rage and not the low-simmering wicked desire he's come to crave and adore. The pain in his heart worsened as she jabbed his chest, a fragile reminder of the new life she's breathed into him and the steady ache to protect it at all costs. "You're just like every other man I've ever met, except you might actually be worse! You put me in danger, and then spared me the details! And for what, so you could play the savior and 'protect' me? Huh?"
"You don't understand..."
"Then make me understand!"
The truth was that he couldn't let her go. No matter how annoyingly stubborn she proved herself to be, Samuel could not resist the warmth that settled in his bones when she touched him. He could not sit back and tell himself that she meant nothing to him when every time she quirked her eyebrow, he felt the overwhelming need to know everything she's ever felt. He wanted to know her. He wanted to experience her, in every single facet.
But he also didn't want his life to destroy her.
"It is killing me... Every day it kills me to know that the man who took everything from me and ruined my life is out there, and there's not a damn thing I can do about it... It kills me to be away from home, and it kills me to have to pretend like I'm not filled with unbridled rage every time I wake up... It kills me to know that I've let myself get attached to someone else, because it just means that's one more thing for him to destroy. But... God, Rachel, you've fucking set this fire in me that I can't put out. You're so sharp and strong and funny and beautiful, and you're so fucking stubborn... You're breaking down every defense I have, piece by piece, and for both of our safety, I should just let it go... But I can't..."
Her hardened stare hadn't eased, but her hands started a slow, gentle ascent over the planes of his stomach, up and up until they rested on his chest.
Samuel pressed one of her hands firmly to his heart. "Do you feel that, Rachel?"
"Your heartbeat?" she asked sarcastically through her teeth, her eyebrow quickly flinching upward.
"Yes. What you're feeling there is your work, and your work alone."
Unsurprisingly, Rachel snorted. Still, her fingers flexed over the fabric of his shirt and pulled him closer. "It's not healthy to put all that credit onto someone, you know. It could do irreparable damage."
It was true, but she was being snarky, as always. Which meant she must not have hated him as much as she was letting on.
Samuel took that as a good sign, deciding to allow himself to be cocky. He stared deep into her eyes and brought a hand to her throat, gently grazing it with the back of his knuckle. "So? Tell me I haven't already ruined you beyond repair..."
Rachel hummed and leaned into him, never one to turn down a challenge. "Says the man who just bared his soul out to me with tears in his eyes five seconds ago... Sounds like I'm the one who's ruined you."
Their breaths were so close together now, noses barely touching, Samuel didn't have time to process the look in her eyes before he said, "And now you understand," relenting and kissing her deeply.
She clutched his shirt so hard, he thought she might literally tear it to shreds in front of him as her devilish mouth battled him with a strength of its own. Rachel was fighting, even now, desperate to hold onto that power and control. And that was all fine and good, usually, but Samuel felt it in his bones that this time it was different.
Things between them now were different, and they always would be.
Whether he could put a name to that difference he didn't know, but he didn't care. He just wanted her to really truly understand how important she was to him, without the fight.
She had complete control over him, but she didn't need to prove it.
Samuel could do that on his own.
He backed her into the wall and brought her hands to her sides, inching languid, wet kisses down her jawline. Never in their time together had he been so gentle in control, so slow... Fire left no time for meticulous passion, only quick, sharp lust.
"What are we doing?" she breathed, rolling her body into him. "What is this?"
"I meant it, Rachel," Samuel vowed into her neck, his hand deftly undoing the button of her pants. "You're changing me... Giving me something to live for again..."
A soft gasp escaped her as he slid his hand smoothly down the front of her pants, and he reveled in the sound. The moment his fingers breached her entrance, she melted into him, crying out in a whimper.
"That's right," he sighed into her neck. "Enjoy yourself, my dear..."
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid smut#mercy after hours
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fem reader x sub ada wong
cw ; oral & fingering (ada receiving), cum eating, mention of toy usage. kind of short.
“hush, baby… gonna make someone come in here.”
makeup smudges on her cheek, trembling hand clasped over her mouth to conceal the wanton noises that claw at her throat, desperate to come out. her thighs clench around your neck, black-painted nails clawing at the back of your neck in hopes of keeping her balance against the cold wall.
the strong muscle mass in your mouth swirls around her engorged clit, slick pooling in your palm and sliding down to your elbow as two of your fingers ram into her relentlessly. forcing the sound she’s definitely not supposed to be making out of her mouth.
“s’ .. oh, it’s too much. i can’t— hmn.”
coaxing a leg over your shoulder, soft lips close around the swollen bud. fingertips curling into spot that always makes her see stars.
it has her hips shuddering, tears of absolute bliss burning the corners of her eyes. glittery mascara and eyeliner all over the place. it only makes her more alluring. a moaning, writhing, mess.
“too much? honey, you’ve taken way more than this.” you laugh, the sound vibrating all her nerves in the right way. the way your tone is just a slight bit mocking makes her heart throb, fingers dragging up to curl in your hair. her nails take down your scalp, palm flattening against the crown of your skull to draw you in closer.
“or maybe it’s because i’ve been teasing you all night, hm? your fault, hon. you asked for it.”
oh, that’s right.
the panties hanging around her ankles have a butterfly vibrator resting atop the sodden fabric, still buzzing from not having been taken out too long ago. the part that was once inside of her was white and sticky, thick globs of creamy arousal settling on the silicone surface.
she’d been needy all day. hanging around you more than often, even inviting you to sit on her lap while she worked. hands running all over your body, lips kissing your skin every other second. it’s safe to say she put herself in this position.
but, here? at a formal event? this is not where she expected you to do it.
“i know i did, but it’s— fuucckk. i’m, i think i’m gonna..” her voice is wobbling, weak. her hand falling from her mouth because goddamnit—she just doesn’t care anymore. if somebody sees you two oh fucking well.
her words dissolve into unintelligible babbles, saliva spilling over her lower lip as she lets out a rather obnoxious mewl. face hot with embarrassment as she finally hears how she sounds herself. a little pathetic, but hey, you think it’s cute.
“coming for me, babe?” you moan, lashes fluttering as your turn your gaze up to hers. upping your effort times ten. you’ve got to make this one of the best she’s ever had, who knows when you’ll have sex (or just be intimate in general), again.
not so subtly adding a third finger, you push them in to the second knuckle. and it has her squirting. your mouth slow its attack on her clit to a stop to lap up her juices, drinking the fluid down like a woman starved.
your face is soaked with her essence, eyes squeezed shut as your slurp her up; cold hand sliding up her hip to press down on her stomach, feeling the taut muscles twitch and shiver beneath your fingertips.
once you’re sure her body’s calmed down, you carefully withdraw your efforts. pulling your digits from her gaping hole, kissing her pussy farewell before sliding her panties back over it. pocketing the toy in your purse to clean later when you arrive back home.
“was that good?” comes a snarky question, tearing a strip of paper towels off the roll to dry your face and her inner thighs. cleaning up as much as you can without the proper tools to do so.
“of course it was good. don’t flatter yourself with my inevitable compliments.” ada hisses, silently thankful you had the courtesy to wipe her down. she’ll have to thank you for taking care of her, later. “thank you, though.”
taking your hand in hers, she drags you out of the bathroom. delving back into the bustling crowd of business people, all standing and listening to some redhead’s speech. nobody has noticed your absences thankfully.
ada had always been easy when it came to you, so that was a plus, as well.
“i’ll have to return the favor.”
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