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gf2bellamy · 7 days ago

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excitement — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) summary: spencer visits you in your apartment. he doesn't realize penelope is there too. content warnings: secret relationship ? a/n: i haven't had this much fun writing something in ages - garcia is so much fun to write for

Spencer Reid was practically buzzing with excitement. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he walked down the street, clutching a book he'd been waiting months to get his hands on.

But what thrilled him even more than the book itself was where he was headed—and who he was about to see.

You.

You were his favorite person in the world, the one who made the chaos of his job and his overactive mind feel calm, centered, and safe.

Tonight, he planned to settle into your cozy apartment, his head in your lap, your fingers combing through his hair, while he read the book he’d ordered ages ago. The thought alone was enough to make his steps quicken.

Spencer’s long legs carried him up the stairs to your apartment, his mind preoccupied with his excitement to tell you all about his book. When he reached your door, he pulled out the key you'd given him months ago—a small gesture that still warmed his heart whenever he thought about it—and let himself in.

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he barely registered anything else. Such as Penelope's shoes at the door or her jacket.

A soft hum escaped his lips as he closed the door behind him, kicking it shut gently with his foot.

Spencer took off his shoes, leaving them by the door , same with his jacket. He moved with a deliberate quietness, tiptoeing toward the kitchen. A soft smile danced on his lips as he peeked around the corner, watching you stand there with your back to him.

Without hesitation, he stepped closer and slid his arms gently around your waist from behind, pressing a tender kiss to your temple. His touch was warm and familiar, showing how much he had missed you.

“Hi,” he murmured, his voice soft and full of affection.

You jumped at the sudden contact, startled, your body going stiff as a flicker of panic surged through you.

“Spencer, wait—” you started, your voice just above a whisper, but he was gazing at you with that sweet, boyish smile that always made your heart stutter.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his expression soft and utterly oblivious to your alarm.

You stared at him, momentarily distracted by how happy he looked. The way his eyes crinkled at the corners, the adoration in his gaze—it made your mind go blank for a second.

“Hi,” he repeated softly, leaning in to nuzzle his face against your cheek.

And then it hit you again. Oh, no.

“Spencer,” you hissed, your voice dropping to a sharp whisper as you heard a faint noise from the other room.

“What?” he asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

“Penelope is here,” you whispered urgently, your hands moving to grip his forearms.

His entire body tensed as the words sank in. “What?” he asked again, his voice an octave higher this time, his expression shifting from confusion to alarm.

“Yes,” you whispered , glancing nervously toward the living room. “She’s here. She’s in the other room!”

For a split second, Spencer froze, and you could feel the wave of panic rolling through him. His arms slackened slightly, his gaze darting between you and the doorway.

“You didn’t mention she’d be here tonight!” he whispered back, his voice tinged with borderline panic.

“I wasn’t expecting you so early!” you shot back, keeping your voice low.

He stared at you, wide-eyed, and for a moment, you were pretty sure this was one of the rare instances where Spencer Reid was completely speechless.

His mouth opened as if to say something, but nothing came out.

Another noise from the living room broke the tense silence, and you immediately wriggled out of his touch, your mind racing for a solution.

“Just say you came to, uh…” you started, your voice trailing off as you tried to conjure up an excuse.

“Give you a book,” Spencer interjected suddenly, his voice quiet but urgent. He held up the hardcover like it was a golden ticket. “I got the book I told you about. I wanted to read it here, actually.”

You noticed the way he scratched the back of his head nervously. It was so endearing, your heart ached a little. He’d clearly been looking forward to spending the evening with you.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly, your lips curling into an apologetic smile as you reached out to brush your fingers lightly against his arm. “I promise, you’ll get to read it soon.”

“With you,” he added quickly, his eyes meeting yours.

“With me,” you confirmed, the tenderness in his gaze making you momentarily forget about the storm brewing in the next room.

And then Penelope’s voice rang out from the living room:

“Why do you have two toothbrushes in here?”

Both of you froze. Spencer’s eyes widened comically, and you watched as a flash of panic spread across his face.

You stifled a laugh, your shoulders shaking slightly at his frantic attempt to keep it together.

Meanwhile, Penelope’s footsteps grew louder.

“Just… stay calm,” you whispered, biting your lip to keep from giggling outright. “Stay calm?” Spencer whispered back, clutching the book like a shield. “She’s about to start connecting the dots, and you want me to stay calm?”

Before you could respond, Penelope’s voice cut through the silence once again.

“I require an answer—” she started, but the rest of her words caught in her throat the moment her eyes landed on Spencer standing there, wide-eyed and awkward.

“Well, hello there,” she said, her expression shifting into a sly smile as she tilted her head.

Spencer froze like a deer in headlights, his grip on the book tightening. Meanwhile, you stood rooted to the spot, trying to keep your own expression neutral, though your mind was scrambling for a way to diffuse the situation.

“I—uh—I came here to drop off a… book,” Spencer stammered, holding up the hardcover like it was an offering of peace.

Penelope arched an eyebrow, her smile widening as she crossed her arms and leaned against the doorway. “How thoughtful of you, Doctor Reid,” she said, her tone dripping with playful suspicion. “I assume this was a very urgent delivery, considering you brought it over in person and not, you know, gave it to her tomorrow. At work.”

Spencer blinked, clearly flustered, and glanced at you for help. You, however, couldn’t suppress a small grin as you watched this unfold.

“It’s, uh… a very special book,” he continued, his voice cracking slightly. “Rare. Hard to find. I thought she’d appreciate it sooner rather than later.”

Penelope’s eyes sparkled with amusement as she stepped a little closer, clearly enjoying how nervous he was. “Uh-huh,” she said slowly, her gaze flicking between the two of you. “And how long were you planning on staying for this… literary exchange?”

“Not long!” Spencer blurted out, his voice a bit too loud. “I was just… going to, uh…”

You bit back a laugh as you saw the panic flood his face. Spencer was completely unraveling under Penelope’s relentless curiosity, and you figured it was time to step in.

“Pen,” you interrupted, holding up a hand to stop her. “Stop torturing him. He did just come by to drop off a book. Isn’t that right, Spence?”

“Y-yes,” Spencer stammered, nodding furiously.

“Perfect,” you said smoothly, placing a hand on his arm and giving him a reassuring squeeze. “Spencer, why don’t you just go put the book in my room?”

His eyes flicked to yours, and he nodded again, clearly grateful for the lifeline. Without another word, he hurried down the hallway toward your room, clutching the book.

As soon as Spencer disappeared down the hallway, Penelope turned back to you, her grin widening, a mischievous glint dancing in her eyes.

“Spencer is here,” she stated flatly, her smile never wavering.

“I’m very aware of that,” you replied, giving her a pointed look. You tried your best to keep your composure, but the urge to nervously tap your fingers on the counter was almost overwhelming.Something about Penelope's tone was starting to make you uneasy, and you were unsure of what direction this was going.

“He’s in your home,” she added again, this time stretching out the words like they were some sort of grand revelation.

“Pen,” you said slowly, raising an eyebrow as you turned to face her. Your confusion was now shifting into something else.The two cups of tea you’d made earlier sat forgotten on the counter.

You heard Spencer’s footsteps approaching from the hallway, and as he rounded the corner back into the kitchen, Penelope’s eyes followed him like a hawk, never missing a beat.

“And he knows where your room is,” she added, her grin spreading wider than ever.

The words hung in the air for a moment, and you were pretty sure you and Spencer came to the same realization at the exact same time.

Penelope had caught you.

Your heart skipped a beat as you watched Spencer freeze mid-step, his expression going blank as his eyes flicked to Penelope, and then back to you. There was no hiding it now.

You could practically hear the wheels turning in his mind.

“Penelope” you started, but the words caught in your throat as you tried to process everything in a split second.

You turned to Spencer, locking eyes with him, silently begging him to help you come up with something—anything that could smooth this over. But Spencer just stood there, wide-eyed and frozen, clearly as baffled as you were.

Before either of you could find an excuse, Penelope let out an ear-piercing screech, making you flinch and almost slap your hands over your ears.

“Oh my god!” she yelled, practically vibrating with excitement as she realized what your silence meant. She started hopping up and down. “I’m so happy for you!”

“Penelope—” you tried again, your voice edged with panic, but she wasn’t listening.

“Oh my god,” she repeated, this time slower, her tone laced with dramatic revelation. Her hand shot out, pointing directly at Spencer like she’d just solved a crime.

“You!” she exclaimed, her eyes darting back and forth between the two of you. “Do you… live here?”

You and Spencer both froze, exchanging a quick, panicked glance. Before either of you could deny it, Penelope’s eyes widened.

“There were two toothbrushes,” she said, gasping like she’d just remembered something crucial. “Oh my god.” Her voice grew louder, each word building with excitement. “You live here!”

“Penelope, no, it’s not like—” you started, holding your hands out in a desperate attempt to calm her down, but she barreled right over your words.

“Don’t even try to deny it!” she nearly shouted, spinning around to face Spencer again.

Spencer, who had been awkwardly clutching his book to his chest like a shield, took a small step back as if he could physically escape Penelope’s relentless questioning. “I… I don’t live here,” he stammered weakly, though even he sounded unconvinced.

Penelope narrowed her eyes at him, a grin still plastered across her face. “Uh-huh. Sure. That’s why there are two toothbrushes in the bathroom. Oh! And don’t think I didn’t notice the extra pair of shoes by the door. Size 10 men’s, Spence!”

You groaned, pressing a hand to your forehead as you felt your face flush with heat. This wasn’t just a confrontation anymore—this was a full-blown exposé.

Penelope narrowed her eyes at you, her mind clearly racing as she tried to piece everything together. “How long has this been going on? How did I miss this? I mean, I am the queen of observation and gossip, and somehow you two snuck this right under my nose?” She started rambling, her words spilling out faster than either of you could respond.

You shot a desperate look at Spencer, silently pleading for backup, but he just stood there wide-eyed.

Realizing you were on your own, you sighed and grabbed one of the tea cups sitting on the counter. It was lukewarm at best, but you needed something to focus on before Penelope’s intensity made your head spin.

“Okay, come on,” you said, cutting through her rambling as gently as you could. You gestured toward the counter and guided her to sit on one of the stools. She followed you without protest, though she kept muttering under her breath, her curiosity clearly not yet satisfied.

Spencer hovered behind you like an awkward shadow, his book still clutched to his chest like a lifeline.

Penelope took the tea you handed her, sipping it absentmindedly. Her face scrunched slightly at the taste—it was cold and bitter by now—but she was too busy overthinking to notice or care.

Spencer leaned down slightly, his lips brushing close to your ear as he whispered, “Is she… okay?”

You fought back a laugh, biting your lip to suppress the grin that threatened to spread across your face. Tilting your head just enough to glance back at him over your shoulder, you whispered, “I think she’s broken.”

A soft laugh escaped Spencer, his smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he looked at you, his expression so warm and full of affection that your heart skipped a beat.

Before you could get lost in the moment, a loud, happy sigh broke the bubble around you both.

The two of you snapped your attention back to Penelope, who was now sitting with her elbows propped on the counter, her chin resting in her hands as she gazed at you with a dreamy, contented smile.

“I knew it,” she declared, her voice brimming with satisfaction. “I knew there was something between you two. But this… this is better than anything I could have imagined. It’s like a rom-com came to life right in front of me.”

Spencer scratched the back of his neck, his face flushing an impressive shade of pink. “I don’t think it’s as dramatic as you’re making it sound,” he said awkwardly.

Penelope gasped theatrically, pointing a finger at him. “That’s where you’re wrong, Doctor Reid. This is exactly as dramatic as I’m making it sound. I mean, look at you two! It’s disgustingly adorable. I don’t even care that you didn’t tell me sooner. I forgive you, because this—” she gestured wildly between the two of you, “—was worth the wait.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help laughing as Spencer shifted uncomfortably, clearly unsure of how to respond to her enthusiasm.

“This has been a wonderful night,” she said dramatically, clasping her hands together like she was narrating a fairytale.

“Penelope,” you said, finally admitting defeat, “you cannot tell anyone.”

Her expression shifted to an exaggerated pout, her brow furrowing as she looked between you and Spencer. You could feel his hand settle on the small of your back.

“But why?” she whined, her tone bordering on indignant. “This is huge! People need to know about this. Do you realize how many people on the team have been secretly hoping for this to happen?”

You sighed, glancing at Spencer for support. He gave you a small shrug, clearly as stumped as you were.

“It’s… it’s just that we’d prefer to keep this private for now,” you explained, trying to sound firm but gentle.

“Exactly,” Spencer echoed softly, speaking for the first time since Penelope had pieced everything together.

Her gaze flicked to him, and for a moment, her excitement dimmed slightly. She studied the two of you, her expression softer now, almost understanding.

“Okay,” she muttered, though it was clear she wasn’t thrilled. “Fine. I won’t say anything. For now.”

You let out a small breath of relief, but it was short-lived as she hopped off the counter with a dramatic flourish. “Well, you two lovebirds have a beautiful evening,” she said, her voice sing-songy again as she grabbed her bag.

“Penelope, hey—wait,” you called after her, guilt creeping in. “You don’t have to leave.”

She stopped mid-step, turning back to look at you with raised eyebrows. “Oh, I definitely do,” she said, waving a finger in the air. “Because if I stay, I’ll just end up asking a million more questions or texting Derek, and you specifically told me not to do that. So, for the sake of your precious privacy, I’m going to remove myself from the situation.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but she cut you off with a knowing smile. “It’s fine,” she said softly, her tone genuine now. “I’ll leave you two alone. But just so you know, I’m very happy for you. And I mean that.”

Spencer gave her a small smile. “Thanks, Penelope.”

She beamed at him before turning back to you. “Oh, and one more thing—if you two keep this a secret forever, I will be mad. Just putting that out there.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Noted.”

She practically skipped to the wardrobe by the door. Both you and Spencer followed her, Spencer instinctively reaching for her jacket before she could even ask.

“Thank you, loverboy,” she said with a teasing lilt as she accepted the jacket from him. Spencer’s ears turned a vivid shade of red, the flush creeping all the way up his neck.

You couldn’t help but smile at the interaction, the fondness in your expression impossible to hide. Lightly squeezing Spencer’s hand, you felt his fingers tighten around yours in response.

Penelope caught the moment, her grin widening as she shrugged on her jacket. “Oh, you two are going to kill me with how cute you are. I swear, I’m going to need to schedule a therapy session after this—just to process the sheer amount of joy.”

As she finished putting on her shoes, she looked up at the two of you, her expression turning more serious. “But really—thank you for letting me in on this, even if it wasn’t exactly intentional.”

You smiled warmly at her, wanting to make up for the messed up night. “How about we do this tomorrow?” you suggested, hoping to ease her disappointment at cutting the night short.

Penelope’s eyes lit up instantly. “Oh, yes! I’m going to need all the details. No sparing me the juicy bits, okay?” she said, pointing a playful finger at you.

“Totally,” you replied with a small laugh, glad to see her mood lift again.

“Well, I’m off now,” she announced dramatically, stepping toward you with open arms. You hugged her tightly, murmuring another soft, “Sorry,” into her shoulder.

“Oh, stop that,” she chided gently, pulling back to give you a reassuring smile. Then, turning to Spencer, she reached out to lightly squeeze his arm. “And you,” she added with a teasing grin, “take care of our girl.”

Spencer flushed, the tips of his ears turning pink, but he managed a small, shy smile. “I will,” he said softly, his voice sincere.

Satisfied, Penelope gave a little wave as she turned to the door. “Goodnight, lovebirds! And don’t forget—I’m expecting details tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Penelope,” you both called after her in unison.

As soon as the door clicked shut, you and Spencer turned to face each other, locking eyes for a brief moment before bursting into laughter.

“We are so dead,” you said between chuckles, shaking your head.

“She’s going to tell everyone,” Spencer added, though his tone wasn’t nearly as panicked as before.

You looked at him, your smile softening as the laughter subsided. “How about you go grab your book?” you suggested, tilting your head toward the hallway.

Spencer didn’t hesitate. He spun on his heel and practically bolted to your room, moving so quickly it was almost comical. You let out another small chuckle, shaking your head fondly as you made your way to the couch.

Settling down into your usual spot, you pulled a throw blanket over your legs and adjusted the cushions, making yourself comfortable. Moments later, Spencer returned, his book clutched in one hand. He stood there for a moment, looking at you with a contented smile, as though this quiet, simple moment was all he needed.

“Come here,” you said gently, patting your lap.

He didn’t need to be told twice. Spencer crossed the room and settled onto the couch, stretching out and laying his head in your lap. Your fingers found their way to his hair instinctively, weaving through the soft strands in a familiar, soothing motion.

This was your routine, one you’d both fallen into, it felt like second nature. Spencer opened his book, the faint rustle of the pages filling the quiet space.

After a few minutes, you broke the quiet. “Are you mad about Pen finding out?” you asked softly, your fingers brushing gently through his hair, pushing back the curls that had fallen into his eyes.

“What? No,” he replied, tilting his head slightly to look up at you, his gaze full of warmth.

You smiled at his response, but his curious expression prompted him to ask, “Why? Is it upsetting you?”

You shook your head, a quiet laugh escaping as you glanced down at him. “No, no. Just a bit worried about how obvious she’s going to be when we get back to work,” you admitted, shifting your gaze to the wall in front of you as your fingers continued their soothing path through his hair.

Spencer gently touched your wrist, his fingers warm against your skin. “Well, she’s gonna be plenty obvious, but is that really such a bad thing?” he asked, his voice soft but thoughtful. He paused for a moment before adding, “I mean… I wouldn’t mind if they knew about us.”

His words made you stop for a second, and you looked down at him, your smile widening. “You wouldn’t?” you asked, surprised but clearly pleased by his honesty.

“No,” he said, his voice quiet. Finally, he met your gaze, and there was a vulnerability in his eyes that made your heart flutter.

You resumed your gentle motions in his hair, feeling comforted by his sincerity. “Well, in that case,” you murmured, “tell me about your book.”

And just like that, the shift in conversation had Spencer smiling like a child, his excitement clear as he started to rave about it, his voice animated and his eyes lighting up. You couldn’t help but smile at how easily he could lose himself in something that made him happy.

You listened intently, absently running your fingers through his hair as he spoke, savoring this little piece of your routine with him.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #criminal minds x you #spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fic

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sylusdarling · 2 months ago

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Tender

Sylus x reader

✧Sylus takes care of you while you’re on your period

Content: Sylus x fem!reader, no smut, fluff, he takes care of you, overall very soft, kinda short tbh

A/N: This is how I cope with my period, needing a Sylus right now. Also! I do proofread but my eyesight isn’t amazing so please excuse any mistakes :)

Being sent to the N109 zone while you were in pain wasn’t your ideal day. Waking up nauseous and in pain really set the tone for the day. Forgetting your gun at home and having to turn around while you were minutes away from arriving at work, being sent on a mission by yourself and getting a small gash in your face by a wanderer. Truly, you’d rather be anywhere but here right now.

You were too tired to make it home after your mission so instead you resorted to the next best thing.

Knocking on the large door, you waited for an answer. You were expecting Luke or Kieran to answer but instead Sylus answered himself. He looked down at you with his signature smirk. “So what do I owe this pleasure, kitten?”

“Hey Sy…” Today you had no witty comeback. Instead you looked at him with a strained smile and your hand was clenching your stomach.

His brows knit together and moved to the side in order to usher you in. “What’s wrong?” He asked, voice laced with concern.

You stepped inside and followed him down the corridor. “I’ve just had a really exhausting day. And I got my period on top of it.” You let out a little chuckle.

Sylus’ gaze softened while looking at you. “I see, follow me then.” Outstretching his hand to you, he made a motion with his fingers telling you to give him your hand. Placing your hand in his he wrapped his long fingers around yours. He led you to his room, “Sit on the bed for now, i’ll run you a warm bath, alright sweetie?”

Obliging, you sat on his bed as he disappeared off into the bathroom. You could hear the water running faintly as you closed your eyes. You opened your eyes once you heard footsteps approaching.

“Tired?” Sylus asked.

You nodded, “A bit.”

He nodded in understanding. “The bath is ready for you whenever you’re ready. I’ll be in the study when you’re done.”

“Thank you.” Smiling warmly at him, you made your way into the bathroom. You stripped off your hunter uniform and folded it, placing it on the vanity. Stepping into the warm water, you sunk down letting the water envelop you.

You were grateful for Sylus. The Onichynus leader was seen as cruel and cold by the majority and to be completely honest you thought the same at first. But it turned out that he’s sweet and deeply caring. Sarcastic and blunt? Most definitely. But you wouldn’t ask for anything else. You were grateful you got to see this side of him that was exclusive for you.

Deciding you’ve had enough of the bath, you stood up and toweled yourself dry. Wrapping the towel around you, you opened the bathroom door into the bedroom. On the bed there was a fresh set of burgundy pyjamas with a note that read, “For you -Sylus.”

After throwing on the pyjamas you made your way down the hall to the study. Pushing open the door you were met with Sylus’ broad back. Looking at the shelf he skimmed through the books looking for one that piqued this interest. After hearing your footsteps he turned around.

“Hey kitten. Feeling better after the bath?”

“Much better. Thank you for the pyjamas too.”

“You’re very welcome. If you need any meds let me know, I’ll send out Luke and Kieran to fetch some.”

“That’s sweet thank you, but I think I can manage.”

He made a gesture towards the couch, “Take a seat.”

Taking a seat on the couch, Sylus made his way over to you from the bookshelf picking up a black mug from the table as he approached. “Here.” He outstretched the mug to you, “It’s some tea, It should help with your stomach.”

Reaching out with both hands you grabbed the mug and took a sip. “It’s good, thank you Sy.”

The crimson eyed man took a seat beside you with a book in hand. “What’s that about?” You asked.

“It’s a fantasy novel. About a dragon and his lover.” He said as he opened the it to the first page.

Leaning your head on his shoulder you peered at the novel. “I wouldn’t have taken you for a fantasy person.”

Sylus chuckled, “I like it. It’s a change from everyday life.”

“How are your cramps? Would you like me to rub your stomach?” Sylus asked.

You considered it for a moment, “If it’s not too much trouble?”

“Nothings ever too much trouble when it comes to you.” His hand moved to settle on your stomach. Softly, he moved his hand around on your stomach, the warm touch soothing you. You cuddled deeper into his side. “Read the book to me?”

A soft smile formed on his lips, “Sure, why not.”

He read the novel and his soft, husky voice began to lull you to sleep. The mug hung loosely in your hand as your breath evened out. Sylus glanced over at you and placed a soft kiss against your forehead.

“Sleep well, kitten.”

#love and deepspace #lads #sylus #love and deepspace fanfic #love and deepspace fluff #sylus x reader #sylus x mc #sylus x you #LADS x reader #sylus fluff #LADS fluff #LADS sylus #LADS sylus fluff

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cameronsprincess · 1 year ago

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— summary: rafe cameron falls for the preachers daughter.

— warnings: smut! 18+ stalking, manipulation, rafe is obsessed with reader, fingering, hand riding for like a second, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, praise, oral (male receiving), soft!dom!rafe, innocent!naïve!reader, i think that’s it.

— note: this request was amazing. i love love rafe & innocent!reader, it makes me feel some type of way 🥹 this is kind of a long one, enjoy<3 likes, comments and reblogs are SO appreciated!!

❥ preachers daughter— r.c

Rafe wasn’t sure when his obsession with her started, all he knew was that he wanted her, wanted to ruin her.

He remembers the first time he had ever saw her, it was an early Sunday morning, his father had decided to drag him to Sunday morning service, something Rafe had never imagined himself going to…

… But man, was he glad he did.

He remembered every small detail about her from that morning. She was wearing a long green, floral dress that fell well past her knees, she had a white sweater pulled over her upper half, and a pair of beige strappy heels. Her hair had been done in loose curls, a soft white bow tying it up into a low ponytail, making Rafe blush at the innocence that emitted from her.

The smile that graced her beautiful lips had made Rafe grow painfully hard, having to excuse himself to the restroom to readjust himself.

Rafe had pushed her into the back of his mind though, knowing that a woman like her would never be with a man like him.

She was his polar opposite; pure, kind, without any obvious flaws. Whereas Rafe was impure, violent, and covered in issues from head to toe.. You could thank his father for that.

Rafe knew he didn’t stand a chance, so why, and when, did his obsession with her begin? Why had he caught himself following her around town, watching her every move? Why had he found a way to place a tracking device on her car, his possessive need to know where she was at all times pushing him to do such a crazy thing.

Why had he found himself beating the shit out of any man he’d seen talk to her? Why did he care so much? She didn’t even know he existed, yet, he found himself quite literally stalking her, obsessing over her, vowing to himself that he would protect her at any and all cost.

Rafe had continued following her for months before he had finally decided to make his move on her. He’d quickly picked up on her schedule, learned all of her favorite places to shop, eat, where she loved to do her Bible studies.

After six months of constantly following her and learning all he needed to know about her, he had decided it was finally time for him to make his move, make her his.

He was parked outside of the small coffee shop she frequented regularly, watching as she sat at a table, flipping through the pages of her notebook, taking small sips of her coffee order.

He loved that she was completely oblivious of the man who had been watching her for months, in his mind it proved that she did need him in her life, she needed him to take care of her, protect her, teach her to be more aware of her surroundings.

Rafe’s head snaps up when he sees her stand from her spot, gathering her books and pens, pushing her chair in and making her way to the front door.

He quickly hops from his truck, rushing across the street, his plan to make a move being set in motion.

She pushes the door to the coffee shop open, her head hung low as she stepped through the threshold, making it easy for Rafe to step in her way, lightly bumping her and causing her head to snap up.

“Oh, i’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention”

Her face is flushed red, her voice soft, angelic.

The corners of Rafe’s lips quirk up slightly, a small smile on his face as he looks down at her small figure.

“Not a problem, I should have said something. I’m Rafe, and you are?”

He extends his hand out for her to take, to which she quickly complies, placing her small hand in his.

He places a soft kiss to the back of her hand, her breath catching in her throat at the action. She wasn’t sure what to think of the man in front of her, she’d never been greeted like that by anyone.

“I-I’m Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N. It’s nice to meet you, Rafe”

“Y/L/N? As in Pastor Y/L/N?” Rafe asks, his eyebrow quirked up as he played his part well.

She smiles, her eyes sparkling at the mention of her father. He attends her church? Why had she never seen him before now?

“Yeah, that’s my dad! You go to our church?”

Rafe chuckles, an amused smirk laid on his lips, “Yeah, sometimes. My dad started making me go a few months ago, i’m surprised we haven’t run into each other before now”

He feels himself growing painfully hard when he hears the angelic laugh that falls from her pretty mouth, her eyes lit up as she carefully pushes a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Church not really your thing?” She asks, her lower lip brought between her teeth as she smiled up at him.

“Not really, but hey, your father sure knows how to get you into it huh?”

She shifts herself on her feet, readjusting her books in her hands, “Yeah he’s great, he loves what he does”

Rafe notices the large books in her arms, how she continues to shift and adjust them. “Want me to grab those for you?”

She glances down at the books in her arms, and back up at Rafe, his bright blue eyes making butterflies erupt in her stomach, “Uh, sure. Thanks” She smiles, handing him the books and looking toward the ground.

“You wanna ride home?”

She pauses for a moment, her mind drawing a blank as her palms became clammy. Why she was so nervous? She wasn’t sure. Maybe it was because he was making her feel things she knew was wrong, maybe it was because she knew better than to get involved with a man without her father’s permission, but something about him made her want to take the risk, break her own rules.

“Sure, that’d be nice. Thank you”

And just like that, Rafe’s plan was falling into place. He had gotten her attention, gotten her to trust him so easily. He loved how naïve she was, how innocent she was, and as much as he’d love to take it slow with her, he felt he’d taken it slow enough, waiting, watching, protecting her for months, even if she didn’t know it.

He had to have a taste of her, had to break her of her innocence, and he needed to do it now. He needed her to be his, and only his.

Everything had began moving quickly, Rafe had driven her to his house instead of hers, his lips finding hers in an instant, pulling her from the passenger seat and into his lap.

She was unconsciously grinding herself over his bulge, her hands running over his buzzed hair, his hands tightly gripping at her hips as his tongue explored her mouth.

Her breathing was ragged, hands trembling as she continued pressing herself into him. She wasn’t sure what she was doing or why, it was wrong, so wrong, but it felt so right.

“Rafe” she tries to speak, her words being swallowed by him. He presses his hand flat against her lower back, pushing her further into him as he continues his assault on her mouth.

She plants her palms on his chest, pushing herself back, her back pressed firmly against his steering wheel.

She runs a hand through her hair, her eyes slightly welled up with tears as she tries to calm her breathing.

“This- This is wrong. We don’t even know each other, we- I’m not supposed to have sex until I’m married, I can’t- We can’t-“

Rafe shushes her softly, his thumb running across her bottom lip as his blue eyes burn into her, “Shh, Shh. It’s okay, angel. There’s nothing wrong with this, trust me?”

She sighs, resting her head on his chest, the tears that had fallen from her eyes soaking the fabric of his shirt.

“I-I trust you, but- But this isn’t right, Rafe”

Rafe runs his hand down her side, placing it on her clothed thigh and squeezing lightly, pulling a small squeal from her lips.

“What isn’t right about it? I can teach you things, make you feel things, I promise you’ll love it”

Rafe had his mind set, he was prepared to break her, and he didn’t want to wait any longer. He knew a girl like her, so innocent, so naïve, was bound to break under the pressure.

He could tell she was curious, curious as to what it felt like to be touched by a man, to give her full self to someone, and he wanted to be that person, he needed to be that person.

He was in too deep with her, too obsessed with her. The way she looked, how angelic her voice was, the way she looked wearing clothes that hid even the most innocent parts of her body from the world. He needed her to be his, she would be his.

“C’mon sweetheart, let’s go upstairs, and I promise i’ll take good care of you. Do you trust me?”

She brings her bottom lip between her teeth, an action that was so innocent to her, but it drove Rafe crazy. He could feel the blood rush to his cock, making him grow uncomfortably hard beneath the fabric of his jeans.

She gasped when she felt his hard-on pressed into her thigh, an amused smirk playing at Rafe’s lips. “You feel that? That’s what you do to me, you’re so beautiful, let me show you just how beautiful you are. You deserve to be touched, to be made feel good. Don’t you want that?”

A simple “okay” was all she could manage to breathe out, her breath hitching in her throat when she felt him place his hands on her ass, gripping at it tightly.

“Okay what sweetheart? I need you to tell me what you want”

“I-I want you to touch me” She says softly, her voice so low it was almost a whisper, but Rafe had heard her clearly.

He quickly shoves his car door open, his free hand gripping tightly below her ass, keeping her tightly wrapped around his torso.

He gently sets her down onto her feet, shutting the truck door and grabbing her hand, pulling her to the front door of his house.

Rafe wastes no time, pulling her inside and locking the front door and dragging her to the spiral staircase that led upstairs.

Once they reached the top he pulls her into his room, shutting and locking the door. His lips instantly find hers again, the feeling of her lips against his pulling a groan from him. Her lips felt like home to him, warm, and safe- Something Rafe had never felt in his entire life.

He wraps his arms around her waist, his lips consuming hers as he pushes her back flush into his bedroom wall. He runs a hand up her side, his fingers pushing the hem of her shirt up, exposing just the slightest bit of flesh to him. He lightly grazes his fingers up the length of her side, his fingertips finding her bra.

He unclasps it in record time, running a hand up her arm and sliding one strap down her shoulder, moving to the other side and copying his actions until the flimsy fabric fell down her chest and onto his bedroom floor.

He pulls his lips from hers, his deep blue gaze on her face. He burns the image of her current state into his mind, her lips swollen and slightly parted, her chest heaving up and down as she tries to steady her breathing. He loved that he was the one who’d made her like this, loved that he was the one who had her craving more of his touch.

“You wanna take your shirt off princess?” He asks her softly, his thumb swiping across her bottom lip, his other arm still tightly wrapped around her waist.

“Y-Yes”

Rafe grins, pulling his arm from her waist and watching as she brings her hands down to the hem of her shirt, pulling it up and over her head, tossing it to the floor. Her cheeks instantly turn a bright shade of pink, her arms flying across her chest to cover herself from him.

He lifts his hands, placing them gently on her arms and pulling them down. “No don’t hide princess, you want me to see you. And you’re so beautiful”

She nods her head slowly, letting her arms fall to her sides. She felt her entire body heat up under Rafe’s stare, his eyes erratically scanning across her chest.

He swipes his tongue across his bottom lip, bringing his hands up to softly cup her bare breasts in his palms.

“Such a pretty girl, aren’t you?”

He begins softly massaging her breasts in his hands, his fingers finding her nipples, pinching and pulling at them. He loved the expression that took over her face when he began playing with her sensitive buds, her lips parted, eyes squeezed shut as she panted.

“Doesn’t that feel good, baby?”

“Y-Yes. Feels- Feels so good, Rafe”

Rafe hums in appreciation, dipping his head down to lick a stripe across both her breasts. She gasps loudly, her head falling back against the wall when he wraps his lips around one of the buds, sucking on it lightly before switching to the other side.

Her hands fly to the back of his head, nails lightly scratching through his buzzed hair. She lets soft moans fall from her lips, and Rafe swore he’d never heard anything so beautiful, so angelic. She was going to be the death of him.

He lets his hands fall, finding her waist and lightly tapping at her thigh, “Jump” he instructs, and she’s quick to obey, straddling him instantly.

Rafe carries her to his bed, letting her fall onto the soft mattress with a soft thud.

He climbs himself on top of her, his arms caging her into the bed. He steadies himself with one hand flat on the mattress, his free hand running up her side, a trail of goosebumps left behind on her skin from his fingertips. He cups her cheek softly, lightly rubbing his thumb across it.

“You want me to take your jeans off? Make you feel good?” Rafe asks, but he gives her no time to answer, his hand being removed from her cheek and finding the button on her jeans.

He swiftly undoes the button, pulling her zipper down slowly before he begins sliding the denim fabric down her legs.

Rafe sucks in a sharp breath when he sees her lacy white panties, an innocent girl like her wearing something like this?

“Fuck”

She blushes at his vulgar words, her breathing shaky as his fingers play with the waistband of her panties.

She lets out a shaky breath when his fingers push down into the front of her underwear, his fingers brushing against her clit, making her hips buck forward from the sensation.

“Rafe” She breathes out, her fingers tightly gripping at his bedding.

“You okay sweetheart?”

“We- We shouldn’t, oh!”

She tries to protest, tries to keep her faith and do as she knows she’s supposed to, but Rafe wasn’t having it. He runs his middle finger through her slick folds, pulling his hand from inside her panties and shoving the digit in his mouth.

He hums in appreciation, the taste of her on his tongue making the blood rush to his already painfully hard and throbbing cock.

“You’re so wet, so sweet. You know this is what you want, isn’t it baby?”

She feels the tears welling up in her eyes, letting a few stray tears fall. Did she want this? She didn’t understand what she was feeling, why she was aroused. She’d never felt like this before. Rafe had her mind racing, she did want this, she knew it was wrong, knew her father would be so disappointed in her, but why deny herself of this feeling when it felt right? Felt good.

She nods her head in response, pulling a small smile from Rafe’s lips. He tugs at her panties, pulling them down her legs and shoving them into the back pocket of his jeans.

He cups her bare cunt, his palm pressing firmly against her clit, making her whimper and squirm beneath his touch.

“You can move baby, make yourself feel good”

She whimpers, moving her hips and grinding herself against his hand. Rafe takes his free hand, his ringed fingers pressing into her thigh as he held her open for him. He removes his hand from her pussy, running a finger through her slick again, gathering her arousal on the digit before he slowly pushes it into her.

“Oh, Oh God!” She cries out, her back arching off the bed, pushing his finger further into her.

“God isn’t here sweetheart, it’s just you and me”

He begins slowly pushing his finger in and out of her soaked core, her velvety walls clenching around his finger. He curls his finger, hitting a spot inside her that had her toes curling.

“I-I, Oh Rafe”

Rafe smirks, adding another finger inside her. He quickens his pace, pushing them in and out harshly. She’s a whimpering mess, her orgasm so close he could feel it from how she was clenching around him.

“You can cum, it’s okay sweetheart, let it out”

She feels a burn between her legs, her belly growing tight as a feeling she’d never felt washes over her. She’s trembling beneath him, legs shaking, fists tightly wrapped around the fabric of his blanket as Rafe helped fuck her through her high.

When he pulls his fingers from her she lets out a small whimper, her body laying limp on his mattress, chest heaving up and down as she comes down from her orgasm.

“See that wasn’t so bad was it?” Rafe asks.

She sucks in a shaky breath, shaking her head. “N-No. Not bad. I’ve never… You know..”

Rafe quirks an eyebrow up at her, that damned amused smirk on his lips. “You’ve never had an orgasm before? I knew that sweetheart”

She hides her face in her hands, body heating up from embarrassment.

Rafe’s hands fly to hers, slowly pulling them down, his free hand rubbing softly across her cheek.

“Don’t hide, it’s okay. I want to teach you, I want you to feel comfortable with me, don’t you feel comfortable with me baby?”

She lets out a deep sigh, “Yes, I-I’m comfortable”

He grins, satisfied that he’d gotten her comfortable with him. He sits himself up on his knees, undoing his belt and tossing it to the floor.

“Do you wanna make me feel good sweet girl?”

She bites at her bottom lip, watching as he undoes the button on his pants followed by his zipper, the fabric sliding down his legs and leaving him in nothing but his underwear and his polo.

“Yes, I wanna make you feel good, teach me?”

Rafe brings his hand up to cup her cheek, his thumb sliding across her bottom lip, sliding the digit past her parted lips.

She wraps her lips around his thumb, giving it a light suck, a raspy groan falling from Rafe at the feeling.

“Fuck you’re so beautiful, gonna be such a good girl f’me, make me feel good, yeah?”

He pulls his thumb from her lips, sliding his briefs down his legs, his erection springing free and slapping just below his belly button. He notices the wide eyed expression on her face, her lips parted in a small ‘o’ as she stared at him.

“It’s okay baby, don’t be scared”

Rafe firmly grasps at his cock, pumping at it slowly, his free hand coming to the back of her head as he helped guide her down. “Put your lips on it baby, I got you”

She does as he says, her lips wrapping around the head first lightly sucking at his swollen tip. Rafe’s grip tightens in her hair, his hips bucking forward.

“Good girl, swirl your tongue around it a little, pretend it’s a popsicle or a lollipop”

She obeys, swirling her tongue around him, the precum that leaked from his tip making its way onto her tongue. She hums around him, the salty taste making her grow wet again.

Rafe slowly pushes himself further into her mouth, his breathing erratic as she takes him fully.

Her teeth graze at his shaft, making him jump back from the pain. “No teeth baby, hollow your cheeks and just move your head up and down slowly”

Her cheeks hollow, her head moving slowly up and down his length, small gags and whimpers falling from her with each push and pull, his head hitting the back of her throat with each push.

Rafe inhales deeply through his nose, his head thrown back in pleasure as she continues to suck and lick every last inch of him.

“Such a good fucking girl”

She feels herself grow wet from his praise, the ache between her thighs back, the craving for more of his touch growing with each passing second.

He tightly grips her hair when he feels himself twitching inside her mouth, pulling her off of him, her cheeks and chin stained with drool.

“Wanna cum inside you, do you want that? Want me to fill your pretty pussy up with my cum?”

She nods her head slowly, laying herself back and spreading her legs for him.

Rafe smiles widely, the innocence that once radiated from her now gone, and all because of him.

He pulls his polo over his head, discarding it on the floor and leaning himself down. He uses one hand to steady himself up, his other hand pumping at his cock and lining himself with her slick entrance.

“Gonna go slow okay? If it hurts, let me know and i’ll let you take a minute to breathe”

She opens her mouth to speak but nothing comes out except a small whine, the feel of his fat head pushing into her small hole sending a burn through her legs.

Rafe softly shushes her, “Shhh, it’s okay i’m gonna take care of you, alright?”

She blinks away her tears, nodding her head and sucking in a sharp breath. Rafe slowly pushes himself in more, using one hand to lightly stroke her cheek, trying to help her calm her breathing.

He pushes himself inside her fully, stilling his movements and trying to let her adjust to his size. She lets out a soft breath, her hands flying to his shoulders, fingernails digging into the flesh.

“Can I move princess?”

“Yes, please”

Rafe begins to slowly thrust himself inside her, small moans and whimpers falling from her as she begins to rock her hips with his.

“You’re doing so good, my good girl”

She’s a whining mess, the pain replaced with pleasure making her toes curl, her head thrown back into the pillows as she focuses on the feel of each push and pull Rafe makes.

“Not gonna last long with you squeezin’ me like that sweetheart, you feel yourself squeezin’ me? Your pussy begging to be filled with my cum”

She lets out a whine, her bottom lip harshly brought between her teeth as she felt her second orgasm approaching.

“I-I think i’m close” she cries out, her hips bucking up and meeting each of his thrusts.

“Let go for me angel, i’m right behind you”

She clamps down around him, squeezing him tightly and sucking him further into her. His head repeatedly hits at her sweet spot, making her a whimpering, moaning mess.

“Gonna fill you up, give you my babies, don’t you want that baby?”

“Yes! Want you babies, wanna be a mama, please please”

She screams out a moan, her release bursting from her. She was trembling, tears staining her cheeks as Rafe fucked her through her high.

Rafe feels his thrusts grow sloppy, his hips stuttering as he twitches inside her. He pushes himself to the hilt, stilling inside her as the hot ropes of his release spill inside of her.

He lets his head dip down, his face falling into the crook of her neck, his lips attacking the skin with hot kisses.

He pulls himself from inside her, rolling onto his side and wrapping his arms around her. He pulls her further into his body, snuggling further into her and breathing in her scent.

“I’m so happy you’re mine now, all mine”

She smiles softly, her eyes drooping as she begins to breathe softly, sleep taking over her.

She wasn’t sure what she would tell her father, or how this would change her life, but she didn’t care. All that mattered to her now was the man who had just completely changed her life, and how she was his, and he was hers.

RAFE TAGLIST: @whore-4-drewstarkey @ivy-34 @rafeism @thelomlisrafecameron @rafegirly @f4ll-for-you @drewstarkeyslut @starkeypankowsbae @lizcameron @m-1234 @dilvcv @thewitchesofart @rafesgfxo @unsaidjaelinrose @abbybarnesstuff @itsmytimetoodream @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @r1vrsefx @alexisbaumann2004 @yourfavborderhopper @moremaybank @mel119g @rafetopia @rafemotherfuckingcameron @jade-is-jaded @jjmaybankisbae @lexasaurs634 @softlilacarrest @fayerite @exhaustedbutelated @lyndys @urmyslxt @presleyanswrites @sierraluvz @carma-fanficaddict @rafescokenostril @madzzz0797 @slytherhoes @jscameron @jjsmarijuana @ijustwanttoreadlols @oceandriveab

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vnti-vnxiety-recs · 15 days ago

Text

STRETCH (M)

★ PAIRING: cheerleader!Jaemin x cheer captain!Reader

☆ WORD COUNT: 4k

★ GENRE(S): smut

☆ SUMMARY: Jaemin can't fit into his cheer uniform anymore because he's been working out too much. While you can't help but admire his muscles, you realize the entire team is admiring him too and that's not going to fly. You decide you need to take action and get Jaemin a new uniform

★ ☆ WARNINGS: unprotected sex, creampie, semi-public sex, explicit sexual intercourse, MDNI

☆★ NOTES: The concept of cheerleader Jaemin is just too hot to me so I had to spin the block on this one. Continuation of Team Spirit! that can be read as a stand alone!

────୨ৎ────

Jaemin has been bulking up lately. He had always been really into fitness and a bit of a gym rat, but since joining the cheerleading squad, he hadn't had time for his regular workouts, Now with competition season over he was back at it and you couldn’t help but notice the results. His chest looked fuller, and his arms rippled with defined muscle, showing off all the dedication he’s been putting in.

But as much as you loved his body, it was definitely time for him to size up his uniform.

His chest was starting to press tightly against the front of his shirt, the stretchy spandex doing little to hide the swell of his muscles. The uniform shirt he wore was a crop top that showcased his abs. That was a sight that was already causing issues, stealing your attention at the wrong time. But this? This was far beyond what anyone should have to deal with. The fabric was strained to its limit, and each breath he took only made it worse.

You doubted that going up a size in spandex would make much of a difference, but something had to give—he was practically bursting out of his uniform. You couldn't take your eyes off him.

Standing on the opposite side of the gym, you watched him closely as he moved. Sweat glistened on his brow, and his toned arms flexed beneath a snug black spandex top. To be honest, it was quite a sight. You enjoyed observing the way his body moved in the uniform, but then reality hit when you noticed the rest of the team admiring his outfit as well.

The fun was over, that shirt had to go. You weren’t deaf to the whispers that drifted around the locker room when your teammates thought you weren't listening. You overheard them making comments about how good he looked. You had to forcibly push aside the twinge of jealousy that threatened to creep in, reminding yourself to stay composed and maintain a level head. You were captain, you couldn't just go on a jealous rampage.

You did eventually find a bit of solace in making those who had whispered about him run extra drills. It felt good to dish out some consequences for their gossip. Plus, the glare you shot their way throughout practice was enough to let them know you were aware of their little comments. After that, suddenly no one had anything to whisper about anymore.

Strange how that works.

You walked into the locker room after practice, a small bag in your hand. “I ordered you a new top,” you said casually, trying to avoid eye contact. Jaemin was always able to read you like a book and you were beyond embarrassed at the fact you couldn't focus during practice because of his boobs. He did not need to know what thoughts swirled around in your head.

Jaemin's head turns towards your direction, a curious expression on his face. "What's wrong with the one I have now?" he asked.

You shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant. "It's getting stretched out. It's time for a new one."

He looked unimpressed, clearly not buying your excuse but after a moment of silence, he shrugged and said, "Okay."

It wasn’t until Jaemin put on the new uniform top that you realized the mistake you had made. As he stood in front of you in the locker room, the shirt hung loosely around him, nearly swallowing his athletic frame. The baggy sleeves sagged at his arms, and the hem of the top drooped far below his waistline. You could see the dissatisfaction written all over his face as he scrunched up his nose in distaste.

"Uh, this… isn’t really the right fit, is it?" he asked, trying to tug at the fabric to adjust it.

"I swear it looked smaller online." You mentally kicked yourself for not double-checking the sizing.

Jaemin turned to face you fully, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. "So, what? I’m just going to run around in a tent now?" His tone is playful.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair in frustration. "I’ll order you something else. I promise I’ll get the right size this time."

"I just don't see what's wrong with my old one," he said, pulling the shirt over his head and tossing it aside.

You hesitated, trying to find the right words as you eyed him. "D-don't you think the other one is a little tight?" you ask.

Jaemin shrugged, clearly unfazed. “Feels the same to me.”

You took a breath, trying to be subtle. “In the chest area,” you emphasized, hoping to steer the conversation in the right direction, trying to give him as much of a hint as possible without sounding too blunt.

He paused, a thoughtful look crossing his face as he glanced down at his torso. “Is that so?”

“It’s just that your old one hugs your body… a little too well, you know?”

Jaemin's eyes widened as he caught on. "Ohhhh...I see.” A smirk played on his lips. “Then I think it fits perfectly."

For a moment, you were at a loss for words. The way he looked at you—the confidence mixed with mischief—made your stomach flutter. You felt yourself blush, caught between wanting to call him out and being completely distracted by how effortlessly charming he was. "I'd agree if the entire team didn't think the same thing," you muttered, trying to deflect.

Jaemin's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Kinda like how the gym feels about you and your cute little spandex shorts during summer practice?" he asked, voice dripping with playful sarcasm.

You felt your face heat up as he mentioned your shorts. You'd always thought they were just a comfortable choice, until the day he told you how much they showed off your ass and banned you from wearing them. "They're comfy," you said defensively, trying to brush it off.

Jaemin raised an eyebrow.

Okay, whatever," you huffed, eager to shift the topic. “But back to the point, this was supposed to be about finding you something that actually fits.”

"So what if it's a bit stretched out now? It's got character. Plus, it's like my lucky shirt now."

You shook your head, laughing. "Lucky shirt?" You echoed, incredulous.

He nodded, a fierce look on his face. "You can't keep your eyes off me when I wear it, so it must be lucky,” he says.

You groaned inwardly; he was going to be so insufferable in that shirt now. Why had you ever mentioned how it affected you? You could already tell he was going to exploit this newfound power over you.

Rolling your eyes with a shrug, you replied, “Whatever.”

You’d just have to come up with another plan to get rid of that shirt once and for all.

—

Ever since you discussed your thoughts on Jaemin's shirt, you could swear it had gotten tighter. You were convinced that the shirt held some sort of magical power of enchantment because you couldn’t focus. You were missing cues and forgetting routines left and right, all while Jaemin pranced around in his annoyingly snug shirt.

It was almost as if he was wearing a compression shirt that not only accentuated his chest but also highlighted his stupidly disgusting slutty waist that you definitely didn’t want to grip onto while he pounded you into the nearest surface. You were losing your grip on reality, and all of it was thanks to him and that evil shirt.

You found yourself watching Jaemin when you really shouldn’t. He was in the middle of his routine, and you had only seconds left before your cue to come in on the opposite side of the mat. You didn’t have time to think about your face buried in his chest, or how firm it would feel under your fingertips.

Your teammates began to notice your distraction, and whispers started to circulate about your sudden lack of focus. "Dude, you okay?" one of them asked, nudging you playfully. You forced a smile, trying to brush it off, but you knew you weren't fooling anyone.

Suddenly you hated cheerleading. If it weren't for cheer, Jaemin would never have become a cheerleader, he wouldn't be sporting that top, and these thoughts wouldn’t be plaguing you now.

You missed your cue because of course you do, and the irritation in Seungkwan's expression was immediate.

“Okay, how about we take a break? I feel like everyone isn’t checked in today,” he said, his gaze sweeping over you with a pointed intensity. You roll your eyes instantly regretting making him your second co-captain next to Nayeon.

As you step off the mat you go straight to your water bottle, you need to cool down. Your eyes naturally find Jaemin and you swore you saw a brief smirk flicker across his face, only to vanish just as quickly. Did he think this was a game? Did he find it funny?

You would show him funny.

When you showed up in the spandex shorts Jaemin had banned you from wearing to practice, there was no humorous twinkle behind his eye anymore when he'd caught sight of you. His face fell, eyes glued to your thighs.

“Oops,” you said playfully, walking past him with a bounce in your step. As you moved, you could feel his gaze lingering. "Let's have a good practice today, everyone!" you called out to the floor

Nayeon leads the stretches, and you follow along with the rest of the team on the floor. You don't bother pulling the hem of your shorts down when they roll up, knowing full well what it did to Jaemin. You sit on the floor with your legs straight out Infront of you in a seated pike stretch. You reach out to touch your toes, tilting your head just enough to catch Jaemin’s reaction in the corner of your eye. Just as you expected his eyes haven't left your ass since you walked into the gym.

You pulled yourself back up straight, trying to play it cool as seungkwan announced for everyone to find a partner for stretches. Jaemin was at your side in a heartbeat.

“Next break, you’re changing out of those,” Jaemin says firmly, leaving no room for argument. He pulls you to stand in front of him, your back to his chest. His grip on your waist is strong. His hands travel and In one fluid motion, he grabs your thigh spreading your legs apart, then slides down the back of your thigh until he hooks under your knee. With a gentle lift, he raised your leg into a heel stretch, his fingers gliding sensually up your leg until they rested at your calf.

“Says who?” you challenged, trying to maintain your composure. “These are comfy, and they let me stretch to my full potential.” You tilt your head to look at the position he’s bent you into.

He’s so close that you can feel his breath against the back of your neck, the heat radiating from his body pressing against you. You could feel that he’s hard pressed up against you.

“Also, I don’t remember asking for your permission to wear whatever I want,” you add.

Jaemin stretches your leg a little further, not enough to hurt, but definitely enough to make you feel the burn.

“You’re going to take them off, or I'll do it for you.”

As you stretched, a whine escaped you, and your lips instinctively pouted. "Fuck you," you spat out.

His response came swiftly: "Watch your mouth." He spits back.

He slowly lowered your leg, and once you caught your breath, he met your gaze with a challenging look in his eye. Jaemin was the sweetest thing but he would always be quick to put you in your place when you step out of line. He gestured for you to drop into a split, and with a subtle dip of your head, you secretly rolled your eyes but reluctantly obeyed.

You ease into a split and Jaemin situates himself on his knees behind you, his body leaning against yours in a warm press of heat. He gently pushes you forward, his hand gliding down to rest on your lower back for support. You lean into a saddle split, hands splayed out in front of you as you stretch forward.

Jaemin adds pressure and you're forced to delve even further into the stretch. His body provides an added push against yours, testing your limits. You grit your teeth, drawing on your flexibility to hold the position, but you could feel the burn.

It's not easy to hold the position, even with how flexible you are. You're used to bouncing back up, shaking out your muscles, and moving on to the next stretch. But with Jaemin's guidance, you're forced to push your boundaries and remain still, letting your body adapt to the demands of the stretch.

"Jaemin let me up." You huff.

“Gonna take ’em off?” he quips, a teasing lilt in his voice.

“Fine!” you relent.

Jaemin allows you to sit up and once you catch your breath he helps you stand. He looks you in your eyes as he tugs on the hem of your shorts, pulling them down just enough after they’ve rolled up, raising an eyebrow at you in a silent dare. "Keep them that way," he stated with an air of authority, making your cheeks burn in annoyance.

“Okay, guys, back to your positions! We're going to start routines soon!” Nayeon called out.

With Nayeon and Seungkwan in charge of leading stretches, it was now your turn to step up and guide the rest of practice. You burn holes into the back of Jaemin's head as he joins up with Shotaro as practice officially starts.

—

After everyone else had cleared out, you found yourself cornering Jaemin in the locker room.

“This isn’t fair,” you grumble, crossing your arms. “If I can’t wear my shorts, you aren’t allowed to wear that stupid crop top.”

Jaemin turned to you, a playful glimmer in his eyes. “Is that what this is about? Can’t keep your eyes off me, so you decided to pull this stunt? I thought you were more mature than that, baby." His smirk widened as he leaned against the locker, arms crossed over his chest. The way that obnoxious top clung to his newly bulked-up frame was maddening.

“Newsflash, Jaemin. I wear those because they’re comfy.” you shot back, rolling your eyes as you stepped closer to confront him. "You wear that shirt because you like, some kind of attention whore. How do you even breathe in that thing?” Your voice echoed slightly in the empty locker room, bouncing off the tiled walls.

His laugh was low and utterly infuriating, the casual way he dismissed your frustration only stoking the fire inside you. He pushed off the locker, closing the distance between you in two easy strides. Suddenly, his hands landed on your hips, warm and firm, pulling you close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him.

“And what if I am?” Jaemin murmured, his breath brushing against your ear. His fingers dug into your waist, holding you firmly in place. “It got your attention, so what are you going to do about it? You gonna punish me for it?”

Your breath hitched. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. You were supposed to be mad at him. But the way he looked at you, all dark eyes and that cocky grin, made it hard to think straight.

“Maybe I will,” you shot back, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. Your voice wavered just a fraction, betraying the confidence you were trying to project.

Jaemin’s smile deepened, and before you could react, he spun you around, his body pressing your back against the cold metal lockers. He pinned you there, solid and unyielding. One hand slid up your side while the other gripped your thigh, lifting it over his hip slightly so he could press himself closer.

“Go ahead,” he dared, his voice dropping to a low growl. “Punish me.”

The challenge in his tone sent a shiver down your spine. You could feel how hard he was pressed against you, and it took everything in you not to squirm. Instead, you raised your chin defiantly.

“Don’t think I will?,” you warned, though your voice came out softer than you intended.

Jaemin’s lips curved into an amused smile, and he leaned in, his mouth brushing against the shell of your ear. “You won't.”

His hand slid to your hips, fingers slipping past the waistline of your shorts to toy with you. You bit your lip to stifle a gasp, but it escaped anyway, the sound embarrassingly loud in the quiet room.

“Let me hear you baby, I know.” he teased, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your clit. “I can tell, you know. Every time you look at me during practice. You get that naughty look in your eyes when you know you're supposed to be focusing. Bad girl.” He coos.

“Shut up,” you muttered, though your protest lacked any real conviction. His touch was too distracting, his words too close to the truth.

Jaemin chuckled, pulling his hands from your shorts. “Make me…or are you done pretending to be in charge.”

That did it. You shoved him back, pressing your palms against his chest. He stumbled slightly, his back hitting the row of lockers opposite you.

For a moment, you just stood there, breathing heavily, staring each other down. Then, without thinking, you closed the gap between you, grabbing the hem of his stupid uniform top and yanking it up.

Jaemin’s eyes widened in surprise, but he didn’t stop you. You tugged the shirt over his head and tossed it aside. You let your gaze roam over his body, taking in the changes that had occurred. His shoulders were broader than before, his chest more defined. The faint trail of hair leading from his navel downward made your mouth go dry.

“Happy now?” he asked, his voice rough.

You didn’t answer. Instead, you leaned in, catching his bottom lip between your teeth in a quick, punishing bite. He hissed, but his hands immediately found your hips again, pulling you flush against him.

“Not even close,” you whispered against his mouth before kissing him properly, hard and demanding. Jaemin responded instantly, his tongue sliding against yours, his hands roaming your body with a urgency that made your head spin.

Somehow, you ended up on the bench, his weight pressing you down into the hard wood. His lips trailed down your neck, leaving a path of fire in their wake. You arched into him, your hands tangling in his hair as he kissed his way lower, his teeth grazing the sensitive spot just above your collarbone.

“Jaemin,” you gasped, your voice barely audible.

He lifted his head, meeting your eyes for a brief moment before capturing your mouth again. His hands slid under your shirt, cupping your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples. The sensation made you moan into the kiss, and Jaemin grinned against your lips.

“Not so bossy now huh captain?” he murmured.

You glared at him and opened your mouth to retort, but the words died on your tongue as his hand slipped lower, past the waistband of your shorts. His fingers brushed against the slick warmth between your legs, and you couldn’t stop the tremble that ran through your body.

“Fuck,” you breathed, your nails digging into his shoulders.

Jaemin’s smile was downright predatory as he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours. “You’re so wet already,” he whispered, his voice thick with satisfaction. “All because of me? or maybe it was because of that crop top you claim to hate so much? You like it, admit it.”

You wanted to deny it, to push him away and regain some shred of control. But instead, you tilted your hips, silently urging him on. His fingers dipped inside you, slow and deliberate, and your head fell back against the bench.

“Jaemin,” you moaned, his name becoming a broken chant on your lips. His thumb circled your clit, sending jolts of pleasure through your core. You writhed beneath him, desperate for more, but he kept his pace agonizingly slow, drawing out every sensation until you thought you might explode.

“Tell me what you want,” he said, his voice dark and commanding.

You shook your head, refusing to give him the satisfaction but Jaemin wasn’t having it. He withdrew his hand, leaving you aching and empty, and propped himself up on his forearm above your head to look down at you.

“Say it,” he demanded, his eyes burning into yours.

You swallowed hard, your pride warring with the need coursing through your veins. Finally, you gave in, the words tumbling out in a rush. “I want you. All of you. Now.”

Jaemin didn’t need to be told twice. Jaemin swiftly strips you down, his hands moving with practiced ease. The cold wood of the bench bites into your back as you make contact, sending a shiver down your spine. The locker room was cool and you can’t help the goose bumps that prickle your skin. He reached for the waistband of his pants, shoving them down just enough to free himself. Once he's between your legs you reach out, gripping him in your warm palm and stroking him over a few times. His mouth hangs open in pleasure. He watched, breathless as you brush his tip against your entrance. Once you dip the head in he's taking over again and pushing his hips forward to drive into you in one smooth motion. The gasp that escaped your lips was swallowed by his mouth.

He starts at a brutal pace, not in the mood for anymore games. His hips snap against your ruthlessly and you have to wrap your legs around his waist to stop yourself from sliding off the bench. Jaemin groaned, his forehead resting against yours as he moved.

“You feel so good,” he breathed, his voice ragged. “Fuck, you’re perfect.”

Your body trembles as the pressure builds inside you. He slips a hand between your bodies to toy with your clit. You arch your back in response. As your legs began to tremble, you felt Jaemin's smile pressed against your skin when he kissed your shoulder.

“That's right baby. Is this what you needed?” he murmured between choppy breaths, his voice low and sultry.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head at his unrelenting thrusts and cruel fingers. You didn’t respond, couldn’t respond. Your mouth opens to respond; you know better than to remain silent, but nothing comes out. You nod your head lazily instead.

He shakes his head at you disapprovingly. “You know that's not good enough princess. Use those fucking, words.” He punctuates each of his words with a toe curling thrust of his hips as he pumps into you.

“Yes! F–fuck, don't stop.” You cry.

“Mmm,” He moans before leaning down to kiss you again. The kiss is wet and full of tongue as he licks into your mouth. “Gonna fill you up.”

When you finally came, it was with a cry that echoed off the walls, your nails scratching down his back. Jaemin followed moments later, his hips stuttering as he buried himself deep inside you. You shiver as his hot seeds spill inside of you. When he pulls out his eyes watch as his cum drips out of you. You reach down in between your legs and collect his cum before pushing it back inside of you with a moan.

“Don’t want to waste a drop.” Your voice comes out in a whisper.

Jaemin eyes you hungrily before he closes his eyes to take a deep breath. He needed to calm himself before he had you pinned up against the lockers next.

Jaemin gets up before he decides to have you again, getting off the bench to rummage through his bag. He comes back to you with a towel and cleans you up. He gathers your clothes and helps you dress again before following suit.

“So,” he said after a while, his voice still rough, “how do you really feel about the crop top”

You turned to look at him, incredulous. “Are you serious?” You couldn’t wrap your head around how he effortlessly switched from driving you wild to being your sweet boyfriend in an instant.

He laughed, a warm, rich sound that seemed to fill the chilly locker room, and pulled you closer. “Dead serious.”

You sighed, unable to meet his gaze. “I… I like it.” You admit.

Jaemin's smile widened, but just as he was about to respond, you jumped in to clarify.

“BUT! That doesn’t mean I’m letting you wear it to practice. We’re going to order you the correct size, and as for that one,” you said, your gaze narrowing playfully at the shirt still lying on the floor, “that one is for my eyes only.”

“Deal.”

#jaemin smut #jaemin scenarios #jaemin fic #jaemin fanfic #nct dream smut #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct dream x you #jaemin x reader #jaemin x you #jaemin x y/n #nct dream x reader #nct smut #nct x reader #nct fanfic #nct scenarios

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covenofagatha · 4 months ago

Text

Birthday Girl

On your 21st birthday, your friends drag you to a bar to get wasted when you decide it's a good idea to drunk-call Professor Agatha Harkness.

Word count: 3400+

Warnings: smut, fingering, oral, intoxication, mentions of underage drinking, teacher x student (legal)

“One, two, three!” Wanda chants and you and your friends tap your shot glasses on the bar counter and quickly down them.

You gasp at the burn and they laugh at you. It’s your 21st birthday and your best friends Wanda, Rio, and Natasha had dragged you out to the closest bar to get you wasted. They had all already turned 21 the year before; you were the baby in the group.

“Fuck, that’s disgusting,” you groan.

“Another round, please!” Rio motions to the bartender. He sets down four more tequila shots and one is shoved into your hand.

“Think you can get to 21?” Wanda jokes and the thought of 20 more shots makes you want to gag.

“I might puke after this one,” you say and your friends laugh. You were never a partier in high school or college, always preferring to curl up on the couch and watch a movie. You’d only had some sips of alcohol a few times, but you had never been drunk.

“You deserve this!” Nat shouts in your ear. “Harkness has been working you to the bone!”

You shrug and wave your hand dismissively, suddenly uncomfortable. Agatha Harkness is your History of Witchcraft professor at Westview University. She’s known around campus for being cold to everyone and rarely giving out A’s. She expected nothing short of excellence and would not put up with excuses. Everyone was terrified of her.

Everyone except for you.

Something about the older woman captivated you. You were obsessed with meeting her standards, dreaming of the day she would look at you with pride. You poured over your books for her class, rereading every sentence you wrote thrice, just to try to impress her. It had taken your friends days of begging to convince you to come celebrate your birthday with them because you had a paper for Agatha’s class due in a week and you were already worried about it.

“I don’t know how you’re surviving,” Wanda says. “I had her last semester and got a C in the class. Third highest grade. She’s the worst.”

“She’s not that bad,” you defend, not quite sure why. Something about Agatha getting so much hate for pushing her students rubs you the wrong way.

“Yeah she is,” Rio joins in. “I heard that she’s a real witch.”

You roll your eyes. “Can we please stop talking about her? I thought you guys brought me here to get away from school.” You take the shot that’s still in your hand and it goes down smoother this time.

“Yes, there we go!” Rio whoops.

Two more shots later and your head has gone completely fuzzy. You feel as if you are floating on air and everything around you is happening in slow motion. You get off your stool and immediately stumble, Wanda catching you with her arms.

“I think I’m a little drunk,” you tell her. She laughs like it’s the funniest thing you’ve ever heard.

“No shit, y/n, you don’t have to yell!”

You didn’t even realize you had. “We should probably go back to the dorms!” You look around to see Nat chatting with some girl and Rio throwing darts at the board in the corner.

“Not yet,” Wanda says, picking up her rum and coke. You’re not sure how she’s still drinking after she also did four tequila shots. “I’ll get you some water.” She signals to the bartender and you squeeze your eyes shut, willing your vision to go back to normal.

When you open them, you see dark hair in the corner. Is that–? You shift so you can get a better look and feel sorely disappointed when you realize the person is not Agatha. Why are you disappointed? The thought echoes in your head for a second, and then is replaced by a sudden urge to see your professor.

“Drink this,” Wanda orders, pressing a glass of ice water into your hand, but you’re too busy scrolling through your phone. You know she put her number on the syllabus somewhere and you are too far gone to think that this might be a bad idea.

You feel a thrill run through you when you find it. You read the number over and over, like you’re afraid it’s going to change somehow.

“I’ll be back,” you slur to Wanda and then step out the side door into the alley. You type the number into your phone and your finger hesitates over the call button. You know you shouldn’t. But fuck it. You press the button and lift the phone to your ear.

It rings. And then rings again. You’re about to hang up to spare yourself the rejection when the call connects.

“Hello?” It’s actually her.

Your breath catches in your throat and you stand up straighter. “Professor Harkness?”

“Y/n? Is that you?”

“Yeah.” Shit, this was a bad idea. Even with your head still swimming, you know that. You can’t just hang up though.

“Why are you calling me at 10:30 on a Saturday night?”

“Um,” you say, trying to think of something. You’re definitely going to have to drop her class after this. You’ll never be able to face her ever again. “It’s my birthday?” You offer lamely.

Agatha scoffs. “Happy birthday. Can I help you with something?”

“Oh, no, Professor, I just wanted – we’re at a bar – I thought you were – and just wanted to say hi,” you ramble, knowing you’re not making any sense, and you can almost hear her smirk through the phone.

“Y/n, are you drunk right now?” Her voice perks up and it sounds like she’s finally interested.

“No!” you protest. “Well, maybe a little. But I’m 21 now!”

“What bar are you at?”

“Jimmy’s.” It’s a local dive bar that is a popular place for Westview students to hang out at.

“I’ll be there in ten. Wait out front.” There’s a click and then she’s gone. You stare at your phone, dumbfounded. Is Agatha coming to pick you up? Why?

You walk back into the bar and order a Dirty Shirley. The call had sobered you up a bit and if you had already drunk-called your professor, why not get even more hammered. Wanda comes back over to you and giggles when she sees the new drink in your hand.

“Alright, time to party!” she exclaims. You pick up on the fact that she’s a little drunk as well. You stand up, vision blurring for a second.

“I actually called an uber,” you lie, even through your hazy mind knowing that your professor coming to pick you up might sound strange to them.

Wanda pouts and then throws her arms around you. “Happy birthday,” she says into your ear and your arms tighten around her.

“Thank you,” you breathe back. You’re close with Rio and Nat as well, but they don’t have the same bond you and Wanda do. You pull back and then go say goodbye to your other friends.

The wind outside does very little to sober you up and you shiver from the coldness. You’re wearing a purple crop-top and a black mini-skirt, something Nat had found buried deep in your closet. You watch the time on your phone, heartbeat picking up as it gets closer to ten minutes since Agatha had hung up on you.

And then right on the dot, a slick black Range Rover pulls into the parking lot, and you immediately know it’s her. The car stops right in front of you, the passenger window rolling down, and your breath catches.

It’s Professor Harkness, clad in a maroon suit, wavy hair falling over her shoulders.

“Do you need me to open the door for you, too, princess?” Agatha says, sarcasm dripping over the words, when you haven’t moved. You shake your head, partly to answer and partly to clear the fog. You settle into the seat, not missing the way Agatha’s eyes rake over your skimpily clothed body.

“You didn’t have to come get me,” you mutter, putting real effort into not slurring your words.

She glances at you and sees you struggling with your seatbelt. She reaches over and you freeze at her close proximity. Her breath is hot against your cheek and her fingers brush your stomach as she takes the seat belt from your hand and buckles it for you. “Thought I would spare the other people you drunk-called,” she says.

Embarrassment runs through you. “You were the only one,” you say meekly, picking at a scab on your hand. You dare to peek at her, only to find her smirking, one eyebrow quirked.

“Oh?”

“I shouldn’t have called.” This time, it’s harder to keep your words from running together. “We were talking about you and then I thought I saw you and I just wanted to see you.” You need to stop talking, now.

Agatha hums. “Did you, now?” She tucks a piece of hair behind her ears as she shifts the car into drive and you watch her fingers.

“You’re really hot,” you blurt out and then clamp a hand over your mouth. Fuck.

Instead of pulling over and making you get out, like you thought she would, Agatha simply reaches over and pats your leg. “And you’re really drunk, sweetheart.”

The pet name makes you swoon inwardly. “Not that drunk,” you say unconvincingly. “I only had one…two…” You trail off, attempting to count the number of drinks on your fingers. Agatha stifles a chuckle.

“Is this your first time drinking?” She asks, amused.

“No, but it is my first time drinking this much,” you admit. “My friends dragged me out since it’s my birthday. I was going to work on the essay for your class.”

“You were going to spend your 21st birthday doing school work?”

“Your essay’s due in a week. I wanted to make sure I-it was good enough for you.”

She notices your slip of tongue and her smirk sends heat down low in your stomach. “You’re always good for me. Your essays are some of the best I’ve ever read.”

Your heart skips a beat and your face flushes. “I have a B in your class.”

“You have an 88 in my class. That’s the highest I’ve had in years. Can’t make it too easy,” she says with a wink.

“You could make it just a little easier,” you grumble, the alcohol clearly getting rid of any inhibitions.

“You keep doing what you’re doing, sweetheart, and it’ll go up, I promise. I’m very impressed with the work you’ve been turning in.”

A hot flash runs through you. “Just wanna be your good girl.” And if it wasn’t clear how you feel about her now, it sure is. But she doesn’t look disgusted or creeped out, only intrigued.

She finally stops the car and you peer out the window, expecting to see your dorm. You haven’t been paying attention to where she’s been driving at all, and you’re quite surprised to see you’ve arrived at a two-story house in a cute, suburban neighborhood.

“This isn’t where I live,” you say dumbly.

“No, it’s not,” she agrees, getting out of the car and walking over to help you. You stumble up the steps to the front door, Agatha’s tight grip on your shoulder keeping you upright. You can feel her fingers playing with the ends of your hair.

She unlocks the front door just as a wave of nausea hits you. “Oh, god,” you say weakly, holding a hand in front of your mouth. Agatha doesn’t even seem phased; she leads you to a bathroom in the hall and leaves, only to re-enter with a glass of water moments later. You gulp it down and feel better.

“You okay?” she asks softly, stroking your cheek, eyes tracing up and down your face. You’ve never seen this side of her and you really like it.

“I think so. Thank you again,” you murmur and you realize that you’ve been staring at her mouth.

“Anything for my favorite student.”

And then, because you’re apparently determined to fuck everything up even more, you lean in and press your lips to hers. Agatha stands still for a second before you pull back, horrified with yourself.

“Professor, I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

She draws you back in for a longer kiss this time, tongue licking into your mouth. You let out a long moan and she breaks away.

“You’re drunk,” she tells you again.

You clasp the lapels of her blazer. “I know. But I want you.”

She softly pries your fingers off her suit and smiles. “You need to sleep. And then we can talk about this in the morning.”

You pout and she runs her thumb over your bottom lip, slightly pulling it down. You suck her finger into your mouth, delighting in the way her eyes darken. She steps back.

“Let’s go. You can sleep in the guest room. I’ll find you some pajamas and toiletries.” Her hand on the small of your back guides you up the stairs and to the room on the right. The guest room is simple but cozy and you immediately go to the bed and flop onto it. “Don’t fall asleep yet,” Agatha warns and then leaves the room.

She comes back in a few minutes, an old shirt and sweatpants in one hand and a toothbrush and toothpaste in the other. She pats your legs in an effort to get you up but you can barely move, suddenly weighed down by all the drinks.

“Come on, hon,” Agatha says and helps you stand up. You don’t move as she works to take your shirt and skirt off, your cheeks and upper chest flushing red. You try to cover yourself and she smirks.

“M’sorry,” you mumble.

“Don’t be. I’m enjoying the view.” You stare at her longingly, silently begging her to fuck you right there and then, but she helps you step into the sweatpants and pull the shirt over your head. She watches you brush your teeth and moves the covers so you can get into bed. “Do you need anything else?”

Your hand grabs hers. “Just you,” you try again hopefully, but she chuckles and wrenches free of your grip.

“Good night, birthday girl,” she whispers and leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. And then she turns off the lights and leaves the room.

You fall asleep immediately.

***

Sunlight streams through the blinds, waking you up. It takes you a minute to get your bearings and then the events of last night come back to you.

The bar. Four shots of tequila and half a Dirty Shirley. Calling Agatha and her coming to pick you up and taking you to her house. Kissing her in the downstairs bathroom. Shit.

You groan, head pounding. You see a container of Advil and a glass of water on the nightstand beside you. You take two Advil and drain the glass, heart warming at the thought of Agatha taking such good care of you.

And then you remember that your relationship with her will forever be complicated by your actions.

You solemnly brush your teeth and pull back on the clothes you wore to the bar last night, neatly folding Agatha’s pajamas and placing them on the bed. You hope she hasn’t woken up yet so you can sneak out without her having to tell you how inappropriate you behaved last night.

No such luck. The second you get downstairs, Agatha perks up from where she’s typing on her laptop on the couch.

“Good morning, darling,” she purrs, shutting her computer. You gulp, taking her outfit in. She’s wearing a robe that ends mid-thigh and the neckline drops low.

“Hey,” you say casually, trying to hide how much you’re internally freaking out.

“Do you want something for breakfast? I can cook you something.” She stands up and walks to the kitchen and you follow like a lost puppy. You involuntarily lick your lips at the way her hips are swaying.

“What are my options?” Your voice is raspy, still feeling hungover. She glances back at you and her eyes dart up and down your body.

“I can make eggs. Bacon. I think I have pancake mix in the pantry. What would you like?”

You’re a little confused that she hasn’t scolded you yet. And then you remember something else. She kissed you.

You swallow hard. Whatever else you may have done last night that you can’t remember, she doesn’t hate you for it. She might even want you back.

“Are you on the menu?” It comes out before you can even realize what you’re saying.

Agatha freezes and turns around. You shift your weight nervously, but then you see her pupils blown out. Her eyes are so dark you can barely see any blue. “What?” She asks carefully.

“You kissed me last night,” you say, a little breathless. You have absolutely no idea where this confidence is coming from. “You wouldn’t do anything else cause I was drunk. But I’m not drunk now.”

She steps toward you and roughly grasps your hair. She tilts your head back, exposing your neck just a tad. “No, you’re not.” She regards you for a second. “You know you’re not going to get extra credit for trying to sleep with your professor.”

You laugh. “That’s not why I’m doing this.”

She smirks. “Good.” And then she licks a hot stripe up your neck and bites down, sucking a mark on your skin. You gasp loudly and tangle your hands into her hair.

“Professor,” you moan and you drag her into a filthy kiss. She backs you up until your thighs hit the table so she lifts you up onto it. Your legs wrap around her to pull her closer. Agatha pushes up your crop-top and kneads your breast, thumb stroking your nipple, never once breaking your kiss.

Her hand creeps under your skirt and cups your mound over your underwear. Your hips jump on their own at the stimulation.

“Please,” you beg. Her lips curl into a smile.

“What do you want?” Her fingers have pushed your underwear to the side and have started lazily stroking through your folds, spreading your wetness.

“You,” is all you can say before she sinks a finger into your hole.

“Like this?” She asks innocently, thrusting hard.

“Yes,” you pant, quickly untying her robe so you can touch her. She’s completely naked underneath and you lean down so you can take a nipple into your mouth.

“That’s perfect, baby,” she sighs, setting a relentless pace with her fingers after she slips another one in you. “Is this what you hoped would happen when you called me last night?”

“I’ve been hoping for this since the first day of the semester,” you answer, and she falters for a second, thrown off by your honesty.

She pulls out of you and panic runs through you, terrified that you said the wrong thing. But she just pushes you down so your back is resting on the table and she pulls out one of the chairs from the table.

“What are you–” Before you can finish your sentence, she leans forward and sucks your clit into her mouth. Your back arches off the table, hands rushing down to hold her in place. “Fuck, Professor!”

She devours your pussy like she’s a starving woman, pulling all sorts of loud noises from you.

“Oh my god, I’m gonna cum,” you chant, hips grinding on her face, trying to get the last bit of stimulation you need to send you over the edge. She knows what you need and presses her fingers inside you, curling them just right and gives your clit a hard last lick. You cum harder than you ever have before, her name on your lips like a prayer. She helps you ride through the aftershocks and then trails kisses up your body until she can kiss your mouth.

“How was that?” she asks after you pull away to catch your breath.

“That was probably the best birthday present I’ve ever gotten,” you say, which cracks both of you up. “But I’m not finished.”

Her eyebrow quirks up and she smirks. “Oh?” You stand up, putting your hands on her hips and flipping her around so she’s leaning against the table.

You sink to your knees in front of you, not even bothering with a chair. You slowly push her robe up so it bunches at her waist. “Can I return the favor?”

A glint appears in her eye and she fists one of her hands in your hair preemptively. “I’d like nothing more.”

#agatha smut #agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness x you #agatha x reader #agatha harkness smut #kathryn hahn x reader #agatha x you #agatha all along

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bi-writes · 6 months ago

Note

Do you think MOB's ex would ever come looking for her one day?

mail-order bride

simon opens the door for you, taking your hand as you get out of his truck. you brush off the front of your jeans, smiling as you step around him and onto the sidewalk.

"said an hour or so?" simon mutters, shutting the door behind you. you nod, looking around at the shops.

"yeah, i just need some things, but i also wanna look around. maybe get some books or something...i don't know."

simon shrugs, flipping his hood up over his head. he bends to give you a kiss over the mask, and you thumb at his jaw gently.

"i'll pick ya up 'ere in an hour then," simon murmurs. "call me if ya need somethin', love. and if yer not back 'ere in an hour and ya haven't texted me, i'll come lookin' for ya."

you giggle, "i know, simon. i'll see you."

he smiles under the mask, you can tell by the way it moves and the way his eyes crinkle a little. you lean up and give him another kiss over the mask before making your way down the main road, stepping into a boutique to look for some new clothes. you wave at simon as he passes by, and he salutes you before driving off.

you love spending time in town. you love visiting the shops, getting pastries, having some tea by the bookstore and buying little trinkets from the antique shop. simon likes the cheese shop. they sell some of his favorite french cheese, and they have wonderful wines that they pair with it that you love drinking together for dinner. you pick up a bottle along with some cheeses and bread, and just as you leave the shop, you bump right into a solid back, dropping one of your bags and nearly tripping into the road.

"oh, fucking hell!"

you gasp, clutching the rest of your bags to yourself. the man turns around, glaring at you, and you feel sick.

what the fuck is he doing here?

"oh well...isn't this a wonderful surprise?" he snorts. you pick up your fallen bag and straighten up, stepping back to create distance between you.

"hi..." you clear your throat. "i...i'm meeting someone, i have to go--"

"oh, where are you going?"

he blocks you from stepping around him. you meet his eyes, taking a deep breath. he always liked being able to control every aspect of you, from where you stood to what you did that day. your skittishness...your apprehensiveness...it's ingrained in you from your time with him. it's hard to explain being afraid of someone who never even really touched you, but you left before you thought it could get that far.

"that's really none of your business," you say softly. "excuse me."

he sidesteps again when you do, and this time you frown.

"you..." you glare at him. "...need to get out of my way."

he grins, a humorless laugh coming out of him. you don't like the way he's standing there, and you don't like how calm he is.

"oh, i didn't realize little kitty had grown some claws."

maybe you have. you've started to shed your scared exterior, mostly because there is someone behind you now, someone bound to you, supportive enough to make you more confident, braver, stronger. you stand a little taller, clenching your jaw, and you close the distance, stepping closer, and you cant your chin up so you can look at him hard.

"i don't know what you're doing here," you say lowly, "but you need to get the fuck out of my way, or you're going to have some other problems that you certainly can't handle."

he raises a hand, about to touch the lapel of your jacket. you grip his wrist, holding him there, and you tilt your head to the side.

"and if you touch me, you'll be sorry for it. now step aside, asshole, or i will make it a very hard day for you."

"c'mon," he chuckles. "let's go get a drink. there's a pub just down that way--"

"what part of no, and get out of my way, makes you think i wanna have a drink with you?" you scoff. "are you serious? are you that stupid that you think--"

"you listen here," he snaps, pointing his finger, getting in your face. "it's not my fault that you're--"

you step backwards when a big hand comes around you, snatching his wrist and yanking his finger out of your face. you look to your side to see simon standing there, shuffling in front of you, putting himself between you.

"now, i don't much care for interrupting, but you've got y'r fuckin' finger in my wife's face, and i'd like to know why."

you take a glance at your watch, and you realize it's past the time simon said he would pick you up. you sigh, reaching up and sliding your hand up simon's arm, and he lets go.

"it's fine," you tell him. "he was just on his way out."

he's shaking. stumbling backwards, clutching his wrist, glancing between you two. simon holds his hand out finally, beckoning him.

"your wallet."

"w-what?"

"give me y'r bloody wallet," simon snaps.

"simon--" you try, but he clicks his tongue as he snatches the wallet from him, shuffling an ID card out before reading his name out loud, and his address. simon chuckles darkly, cracking his neck before tossing the wallet at his chest.

"i know y'r name," simon murmurs. "and i know where ya put y'r head at night. where ya piss. where ya change y'r clothes. if i ever see ya talk to my wife again...if i even see ya walk down the same fuckin' road as 'er, i'll come and visit you. and we'll 'ave a chat."

"r-right, i--" he stuffs his wallet into his pocket before leaving, hurrying down the road. he doesn't even look back, doesn't look behind him. when simon turns around, you can tell just by looking into his eyes that he's angry.

he reaches over and takes the shopping bags from you, holding them in his sweaty fists as he nods his head towards his truck down the road.

"let's go," he snaps, and you hurry to follow him, reaching for his bicep. you hold onto it gently, stopping him, tugging him towards you as you block him by stepping in front of him.

"simon," you look up at him. "hey--"

"who was tha'?" he asks.

"a terrible nobody," you say softly. "one that i would rather forget."

"i--"

"thank you," you interrupt him gently. "for standing up for me. thank you...thank you for always believing me. for supporting me. for always showing up when it matters, thank you..."

simon bends, leaning his forehead against yours, and he breathes in shakily.

"your pain is mine," simon mutters. "your...discomfort is my discomfort, your joy is my joy."

you both close your eyes, smiling, and he hums when he feels another kiss, soft, the lightest press against his mouth that he feels ten times stronger than normal.

"i love you, simon," you whisper. you hear the bags drop onto the floor, and then two big hands cup your face, leaning it back, and he stares down at you almost painfully. it feels like you aren't real. he feels like it must be a dream, like this can't be his reality.

"i love you more, baby."

but when simon opens his eyes, you're still there.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mwii #ghost x reader #cod #call of duty #order up

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loojii · 25 days ago

Text

♥️ Prim and Proper ♥️

part 2

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Riddle x King of Hearts oc Simply how they met and to communicate Prim's personality a bit better! Like the King of Hearts, often forgotten but happy :) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Story under the line ~

Riddle’s POV

The Night Raven College library was Riddle Rosehearts’ haven—a place where rules were respected, order was preserved, and silence reigned supreme. At least, it was supposed to.

The soft symphony of pages turning and quills scratching was disrupted by bursts of giggling and whispers. Riddle’s brows furrowed, his concentration shattered.

The offenders were four girls from Lady Mystic College, currently permitted to use the library while their own was under renovation. They sat at a table in the far corner, their uniforms pristine and polished, yet their behavior anything but.

Three of them leaned in close, whispering and snickering, their laughter bubbling up despite the clear disapproval of nearby students. The fourth girl, however, sat quietly at the edge of the group.

Riddle hadn’t noticed her at first, his irritation focused on the noise. But as he rose from his seat and made his way toward them, she caught his eye.

She was smaller than her friends, with blonde curls tied into two neat pigtails. Her dark blue eyes flitted nervously between her tablemates and the books in front of her. Braces gleamed faintly while her upperlip rested on them. Unlike her companions, she seemed more like an observer than a participant.

“Excuse me,” Riddle said sharply as he reached their table.

The three louder girls turned to him, blinking in mock surprise. “Oh, hi!” one of them said, her smile overly sweet.

“This is a library,” Riddle stated, his tone clipped. “Your noise is disrupting others. Please keep your voices down.”

The girls exchanged glances and giggled again. “Sorry about that,” another said, though her tone suggested she wasn’t sorry at all.

The fourth girl looked up at him, her cheeks flushing pink. “I—I’m so sorry,” she stammered. Her hands fidgeted with the edge of her book. “We will be quiet, promise!”

Riddle’s frown softened slightly. She seemed genuinely apologetic, unlike her companions. But rules were rules, and they all bore responsibility for their collective behavior.

“Just keep it down,” he said, turning on his heel and walking away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later, Riddle found himself standing in front of a particularly tall bookshelf, searching for a volume on advanced spell theory. The book he needed was on the highest shelf, just out of reach.

He huffed, rising onto his toes, but it was no use. He debated summoning a step stool when a familiar voice broke through his thoughts.

“Um... Excuse me,” the soft, slightly lisped voice said.

Riddle turned to see the blonde girl from earlier standing a few feet away. She was craning her neck, gazing up at a book several shelves above her head.

“I didn’t mean to bother you,” she said quickly, flushing again. “It’s just... I can’t reach it.”

Riddle glanced between her and the book. “Neither can I,” he admitted dryly, stepping closer.

Her lips twitched into a sheepish smile. “Oh, yeah-” she said, hugging her arms.

Riddle sighed, lifting his hand. With a precise flick of his fingers, the book floated down from the shelf, landing neatly in his grasp.

The girl’s eyes widened, a spark of wonder lighting them. “Wow! That’s so cool,” she said, her tone full of genuine awe.

“It’s basic magic,” Riddle replied, though he couldn’t help the slight warmth that rose at her reaction. He handed her the book.

“Thank you,” she said, her braces glinting as she smiled. “I’m Prim, by the way. I, um, wanted to apologize again that we were so noisy.”

Riddle studied her for a moment. There was a cheerfulness about her, a childlike wonder that seemed at odds with her companions. “Riddle.” introducing himself. “And it wasn’t entirely your fault.”

Prim hesitated, her expression flickering with something uncertain. “They’re not always like that,” she said, though her tone lacked conviction. “I think they just... like having fun.”

“Just make sure to not disturb others when you’re in a public library. We prefer this place to be quiet.” Riddle said, not to scold her but he feared it may have sounded like that.

“No, you’re absolutely right! It’s basic rules.” She looked down at the book Riddle just got for her. “Thank you again, Riddle!”

Riddle responded with a simple nod and she hugged the book to her chest and turned back toward her table. Riddle watched her go, noting the way her steps seemed lighter, more confident.

For the rest of the afternoon, the library was quiet. But Riddle found himself distracted, his thoughts lingering on the small girl with the blonde pigtails and wondering if she would ever realize she deserved better.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, Riddle was once again settled in his usual spot in the library. The silence was pristine this time, and he relished the peaceful atmosphere. He had nearly immersed himself in his studies when he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye.

Prim.

The girl with blonde pigtails walked hesitantly into the library, clutching her books and bag. She scanned the room for a moment before her eyes landed on him. A bright smile lit her face, and she made her way over.

“Hi,” she greeted softly, her voice still carrying that slight lisp.

Riddle nodded in acknowledgment. “Good afternoon, Prim.”

To his surprise, she pulled out a chair and sat next to him, setting her books down. “I hope you don’t mind,” she said cheerfully. “It’s nice and quiet here.”

“As long as you keep it that way,” Riddle replied, his tone neutral.

Prim giggled and nodded. “Promise. I’ll be quiet.”

She opened her notebook and began working on what looked like several assignments. Riddle glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, noting the way her handwriting flowed neatly across the pages. Occasionally, she would hum softly to herself, though it wasn’t disruptive—it was oddly soothing.

After a few minutes, he broke the silence. “You’re alone today.”

Prim looked up from her work, her curls bouncing slightly as she tilted her head. “Oh, yeah. My friends are out getting lunch.”

Riddle raised an eyebrow. “They left you behind?”

Prim waved a hand dismissively, her smile unwavering. “It’s fine. I had too much homework to do anyway. Besides, they’ll bring me something back.”

Her tone was so casual, so certain, that Riddle didn’t press further. But he couldn’t help the small pang of doubt that settled in his chest.

“They do seem to leave you out quite often,” he remarked, his voice carefully measured.

Prim paused, her pencil hovering over her notebook. Then she laughed lightly. “They don’t mean to. They’re just... busy. But they’re good friends, really.”

Riddle frowned but didn’t say anything. Her unwavering cheerfulness was admirable, though he couldn’t shake the feeling that she was excusing more than she should.

They fell into a comfortable rhythm, the soft scratch of pens and the faint rustle of pages filling the air. After a while, Prim closed one notebook and opened another, switching seamlessly between assignments. Riddle noticed she wasn’t just working on a single piece of homework—she seemed to be copying her answers onto three other sheets.

He glanced at her stack of papers. Each page was identical, and she was writing the same answers in the same neat handwriting on all of them. His brow furrowed.

“Prim,” he said quietly, his curiosity getting the better of him. “Why are you doing the same homework four times?”

Prim froze for a moment, her pen poised mid-sentence. Then she looked at him, her expression sheepish but still cheerful. “Oh, um... My friends forgot to do theirs, so I’m helping out. They’re really busy, you know, with... things.”

Riddle’s frown deepened. “You’re doing their homework? All of it?”

Prim shrugged, her smile not faltering. “It’s no big deal. I’m good at this stuff, and they always help me when I need it.”

Riddle didn’t believe that for a second. He leaned back slightly, studying her. She seemed so genuinely kind, so eager to help, but he couldn’t ignore the fact that her so-called friends were clearly taking advantage of her.

Prim seemed to sense his concern because she added, “I don’t mind, really. It’s nice to feel useful.”

Riddle opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, Prim stood up, gathering her things into a neat pile. “I’m going to the restroom real quick,” she said with a smile. “Could you watch my stuff?”

He nodded, though his gaze lingered on her as she walked away.

Left alone, Riddle’s eyes drifted back to her work. The identical pages spread out in front of him confirmed what he already suspected—Prim was kind, but her kindness was being taken advantage of.

As he leaned back in his chair, waiting for her to return, Riddle couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of protectiveness toward her. She was cheerful and kind in her own way, but it was clear that she deserved better than what her so-called friends were giving her.

When Prim returned, still smiling as brightly as ever, Riddle resolved to keep an eye on her. Someone had to.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Several days went by and Riddle found himself walking through the courtyard, a book tucked under his arm. It was his usual route to the library, but the sound of laughter and chatter drew his attention.

Underneath one of the large oak trees sat the same group of girls from Lady Mystic College. Their voices carried easily on the breeze as they chatted with a group of Savanaclaw students who seemed far too pleased with themselves.

Riddle’s gaze immediately went to Prim. She was sitting on the edge of the group, her blonde curls bouncing slightly as she nodded enthusiastically in response to the conversation. Despite her obvious effort to engage, none of the boys so much as glanced her way. Their attention was fixed on her three companions, who were leaning forward and giggling at every joke.

Eventually, the three girls stood, brushing themselves off and flashing bright smiles at the Savanaclaw students. “We’ll see you later,” one of them said, linking arms with another.

Prim started to stand, too, but one of the girls waved her back down with a quick, “Oh, just stay here, Prim. Keep the spot for us, okay?”

Prim blinked, then nodded quickly. “Sure! No problem!”

The group walked away, leaving her alone under the tree. She didn’t seem bothered, though. She pulled out a small lunch box and began unpacking it, her expression as cheerful as ever.

Riddle hesitated, his steps slowing. It wasn’t his business, and he wasn’t the type to meddle. Yet something about the scene nagged at him.

Prim’s so-called friends hadn’t even offered to include her. They left her behind without a second thought. And though she waved them off as if it were perfectly natural, Riddle couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t right.

Before he could stop himself, he changed course and approached her.

Prim looked up as his shadow fell over her. “Oh! Hi, Riddle!” she said brightly, her dark blue eyes lighting up.

“Good afternoon,” he said, stopping a few feet away. He glanced at her lunch box and then at the empty space around her. “You’re alone.”

She smiled and nodded. “Yeah, the girls went off with those boys. They didn’t want to intrude, and, well, it would’ve been rude for me to tag along since I wasn’t invited.”

Riddle frowned, his grip tightening on the book in his hands. “They left you here.”

Prim waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, it’s fine. I already had lunch anyway, and they asked me to keep this spot for them. It’s a nice spot, don’t you think? Nice shade, good view...”

Her voice trailed off as she gestured to the courtyard around them, clearly trying to paint the situation in the best possible light.

Riddle remained silent, his expression unreadable. He wanted to tell her that her friends shouldn’t have asked her to stay behind just to save a spot. That if they truly cared about her, they wouldn’t leave her sitting alone while they went off with boys who didn’t even acknowledge her.

But Prim’s smile didn’t falter. She continued to eat her lunch, completely at ease.

Riddle’s mind whirred. He had never been particularly skilled at making friends himself, and he often struggled with understanding social dynamics. Yet he couldn’t stand to see someone as kind and cheerful as Prim being so blatantly overlooked.

“Prim,” he said abruptly, his tone firmer than he intended.

She looked up, blinking at him. “Yes?”

“Would you... like to join me for lunch?”

Prim’s eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, she seemed at a loss for words. “Oh, um, really?” she asked, her voice slightly higher than usual.

“Yes,” Riddle said, a little awkwardly. “If you’ve already eaten, I could still use some company. That is, if you’re not busy keeping this spot occupied.”

Prim laughed softly, her smile brightening even further. “Well, I suppose the spot will still be here when I get back.”

Riddle stepped back, allowing her to stand. As they walked toward the cafeteria together, he couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of satisfaction. It wasn’t much, but at least she wouldn’t have to sit alone this time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Prim’s POV

The shade under the oak tree was nice, shielding them from the midday sun as the breeze rustled through the leaves. Prim sat with her three friends—Hazel, Trinity, and Opal—all of whom were laughing and chatting animatedly, their voices blending together in an upbeat melody of giggles.

Prim listened quietly, her hands folded neatly over her lap, her lips twitching upward in a small smile. Hazel said something that made Trinity snort, and Opal burst into another fit of laughter. Prim tried to join in, even though she didn’t entirely understand the joke.

They’re just so confident, she thought, watching them. “It’s one of the things I admire about them.”

Sometimes they’d say things to her that she wasn’t sure how to take. Like when Hazel turned to her mid-laughter and said, “Prim, I wish I could be as pure as you. So innocent!”

Prim chuckled along, though her cheeks flushed. They mean well, she reassured herself. It’s not like they’re being mean. I guess I don’t get all their jokes, so they’re right. It’s fine.

Then there was Trinity, who had tilted her head at Prim’s pigtails earlier and remarked, “Your hair is so unique, Prim. I’d never have the patience to deal with all those curls!”

Prim had thanked her for the comment, though part of her wondered if “unique” had been the right word. It was true, though—her hair never behaved like Hazel’s silky locks, Trinity’s sleek waves, or Opal’s perfectly tousled bob. But it was fine.

It was fine.

When a group of boys approached, Prim felt herself tense up slightly. She wasn’t used to being approached by boys—especially not bold, self-assured ones like these.

Hazel, Trinity, and Opal perked up immediately, their voices gaining a lilting edge as they welcomed the boys with coy smiles and casual jokes. Prim sat up straighter, her cheeks flushing pink as she tried to follow along with the conversation.

One of the boys told a story about his latest Spelldrive match, and Prim laughed softly at the right moment, hoping it sounded natural. But the boy didn’t look her way. None of them did. Their eyes were fixed on her friends.

She felt a small pang in her chest.

It’s okay, she told herself quickly. She isn’t his type. And that’s okay.

Her friends were tall, poised, and effortlessly pretty. Their hair shimmered in the sunlight, their makeup was flawless, and their laughter was infectious. Prim, meanwhile, was shorter, with unruly curls that seemed to have a mind of their own. Her braces made her mouth always stand open a bit, and as long as she can remember she talked with a lisp.

They’re just more... grown-up than me, she reasoned. And that’s okay. I’ll get there eventually.

For a fleeting moment, the pang threatened to grow into something heavier. But she shook it off, summoning her usual cheerful resolve.

I totally get it, she told herself, nodding slightly as if to reinforce the thought. I understand why they’d get all the attention. Besides, I don’t even need a boyfriend right now! I have my friends. And I’m happy for them. Really, I am.

When the boys eventually asked Hazel, Trinity, and Opal to join them for lunch, Prim was already smiling again.

“Oh, just stay here, Prim. Keep the spot for us, okay?” Hazel said over her shoulder as they stood.

“Sure! No problem!” Prim said brightly, waving at them as they walked off.

She settled back under the tree and reached for her lunch box. It’s fine, she thought as she unwrapped her sandwich. I packed a good lunch, and this spot is really nice. I’m totally fine. And they’ll be back soon anyway.

As she took a bite, she looked up and froze mid-chew.

Riddle stood a few feet away, his red hair unmistakable in the dappled sunlight. He was looking directly at her, his expression as composed and stern as always.

“Oh!” Prim swallowed quickly, straightening up and brushing crumbs off her lap. “Hi, Riddle!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Riddle’s POV

Riddle wasn’t entirely sure why he’d asked her to join him for lunch. It wasn’t as though he usually sought out company during meals. Quite the opposite, in fact—he valued the quiet solitude that came with sitting alone, free from the noise and chaos of others.

And yet, here he was, walking toward the cafeteria with Prim by his side, her cheerful chatter filling the silence he usually preferred.

“I really didn’t expect you to invite me to lunch,” Prim said, her voice bright with surprise. “But thank you! It’s nice to have someone to eat with. It’s always fun!”

Riddle glanced at her, taking in her wide smile and the way her dark blue eyes seemed to light up with genuine delight. Her optimism was almost childlike in its sincerity, and though it was different from the carefully composed demeanor he usually gravitated toward, he found it oddly... refreshing.

As they settled at a table, Prim eagerly unpacked her lunch box again, chatting as she went. “So, do you always eat alone? Or do you sit with your dorm mates sometimes?”

“I usually eat alone,” Riddle replied, his tone matter-of-fact. “It’s more efficient. The dining hall can be... chaotic.”

Prim tilted her head, nodding thoughtfully. “I get that. It can get loud sometimes. But it’s nice to have people to talk to, don’t you think?”

Riddle hesitated. Socializing had always felt more like a chore than a pleasure for him. Yet, as he watched Prim, he couldn’t bring himself to agree. “Perhaps,” he said finally.

They fell into a rhythm of small talk, much to Riddle’s surprise. Prim carried most of the conversation, her cheerful nature making it easy to follow along. She told him about her favorite classes, how she was still adjusting to Lady Mystic College, and how much she loved the library at Night Raven College.

“And the oak tree in the courtyard!” she added with a bright smile. “It’s such a nice spot to sit. Perfect shade, good view... It’s the best, really.”

Riddle nodded politely, though his thoughts lingered on why she’d been left there in the first place.

Finally, he couldn’t stop himself from bringing it up. “You said earlier that your friends went off with those guys and left you behind. Does that happen often?”

Prim blinked, caught off guard. “Oh, well... not often,” she said, though her tone wavered slightly. “They were just being polite, you know? It wouldn’t have been right for me to tag along if I wasn’t invited.”

Riddle frowned. “But if they’re your friends, shouldn’t they have invited you in the first place?”

Prim hesitated, her cheerful facade faltering for the briefest moment. “I mean, they’re just... busy. And I don’t really mind! I’m happy to keep the spot for them.”

He leaned forward slightly, his gaze steady. “Do you really think that’s fair to you?”

She shifted uncomfortably, her hands fidgeting with the edge of her lunch box. “Well, it’s not like they’re being mean or anything,” she said quietly. “They’re nice to me. And they’re so cool and pretty, you know? I’m lucky to have friends like them.”

Riddle’s frown deepened. “Are they really your friends if they constantly leave you out? If they treat you like an afterthought?”

Prim’s shoulders slumped slightly, and for the first time, her ever-present smile wavered. “They have to be my friends… if they’re not…” she said softly, “then... it would mean I didn’t have any at all…”

Riddle’s chest tightened at her words. He’d never been particularly adept at comforting others, but the sadness in her voice stirred something in him. He’d always been strict, proper, and precise in his interactions, yet in this moment, he felt compelled to say something more.

“You do have a friend,” he said quietly, surprising even himself.

Prim’s head snapped up, her eyes wide. “Mm?”

Riddle shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his face heating slightly. “I mean... I wouldn’t invite just anyone to lunch. So if that makes you feel better... consider me your friend.”

For a moment, Prim simply stared at him. Then her face broke into the brightest smile he’d ever seen, her braces gleaming as her eyes filled with joy. “Really? You mean it?”

He cleared his throat, looking away to hide his own embarrassment. “Yes. Of course.”

“Yeah!” Prim said eagerly, her sadness forgotten as she practically beamed at him. “Yeah, I guess we are friends, huh?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The park on Sage Island was quiet that afternoon, the soft rustle of leaves and distant chatter providing a soothing backdrop to Riddle’s thoughts. He didn’t come to the park often—it seemed frivolous to idle in nature when there were more productive things to do—but something had drawn him there today.

It was then that he saw her.

Prim was balancing on a low railing near the path, her arms stretched out for balance and her curls bouncing with each careful step. She looked utterly carefree, the sunlight catching the faint glint of her braces as she smiled to herself.

Riddle slowed his pace, his gaze lingering on her. The sight struck a chord in him—her innocence, her lightheartedness. She embodied a freedom he had never known.

Growing up under his mother’s strict rules, even the thought of such behavior would have been unthinkable. Walking on a railing? Playing games in public? There was no place for that in the rigid schedule of the Rosehearts household. And even now, as a college student, Riddle often felt the weight of responsibility pressing on his shoulders, keeping him bound to the rules he upheld so fiercely.

Prim, however, seemed untouched by such constraints.

When she spotted him, her face lit up, and she hopped down from the railing with a bounce. “Riddle!” she called, hurrying toward him. “Hi! What a surprise to see you here!”

“Good afternoon, Prim,” he said, straightening his posture.

“It’s so nice to see you,” she said, her grin bright as ever. “Are you here for a walk too?”

“I thought some fresh air might be beneficial,” Riddle replied. “And you?”

“Oh, I’m on my way to the bookstore,” she said, clasping her hands behind her back. “I need a new diary. My old one’s almost full.”

“A diary,” he echoed.

“Yep!” she said cheerfully. “I write about everything—what I did, how I felt, what made me happy. It’s nice to look back on later, you know?”

Riddle nodded, though he couldn’t fully relate. His own life had always been so structured, so focused on rules and expectations, that the idea of reflecting on daily joys felt almost... indulgent.

As they walked together, Prim continued to chat, her energy as boundless as ever. “I’ve been hanging out less with Hazel, Trinity, and Opal,” she said after a while, her tone casual. “It’s easier now that I have a friend.”

Her words caught him off guard, and he turned to look at her. “You mean me.”

“Of course!” she said brightly, glancing at him with a sincerity that made his chest tighten.

He felt his cheeks heat slightly and quickly looked away. “I... see.”

Prim tilted her head, her expression softening. “Thank you for having lunch with me last week, by the way. It was really nice. I hope I wasn’t talking too much.”

Riddle shook his head. “You were fine. I didn’t mind.”

Her face lit up again, and she clasped her hands together. “I’m glad! I’ve been eating alone more often lately, and I think I finally get what you mean—it’s nice to have that quiet sometimes. It’s efficient, and I can actually focus on my food!”

Hearing her repeat his words from before made something stir in his chest. She wasn’t just cheerful; she genuinely listened.

They walked in companionable silence for a few moments before Prim spoke again. “You should come with me to the bookstore,” she said suddenly, her voice bright.

Riddle blinked, caught off guard. “Me?”

“Why not? It could be fun! And I’m sure they’ve got plenty of interesting books for you to look at.”

He hesitated, searching for a reason to decline, but none came. “I suppose I could use a new reference book,” he said finally, convincing himself it was a practical decision. “Very well.”

Prim clapped her hands together. “Great! Let’s go!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The bookstore was small but inviting, its shelves packed with an eclectic mix of novels, journals, and academic texts. Prim headed straight for the section of journals, her excitement palpable.

“What do you think of this one?” she asked, holding up a diary with a floral cover. “Or this one?” She picked up another, this one decorated with stars.

“They’re both... adequate,” Riddle said diplomatically, though his tone lacked the sternness it usually carried.

Prim giggled. “You’re so formal, Riddle. You’re so cool.”

He stiffened, the unexpected comment catching him off guard. “I—cool is hardly the appropriate word.”

She laughed again, completely unbothered by his awkwardness. “I like it,” she said simply, flipping through the pages of a diary.

Riddle turned his attention to the nearest shelf, scanning the titles even as his thoughts lingered on her. She was so unabashedly sincere, so quick to express herself without reservation. It was entirely unlike him, and yet he found it oddly refreshing.

“What kind of books do you like?” Prim asked suddenly, breaking his train of thought.

“Primarily academic texts,” Riddle replied. “I don’t often read for leisure.”

“That makes sense,” she said with a nod. “You’re so disciplined, Riddle. I admire that about you.”

He glanced at her, momentarily speechless. She said it so matter-of-factly, as if her praise was simply the truth. “Thank you,” he said quietly, unsure of how else to respond.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The walk back from the bookstore was peaceful, with Prim happily clutching her new diary to her chest. She was chatting about the various things she planned to write in it—her favorite moments, her thoughts on the day, and even the little goals she set for herself. Riddle listened quietly, his hands neatly folded behind his back, offering the occasional nod or small response.

As they reached a crossroads in the park, Prim slowed her pace, her expression shifting slightly. “I should probably start studying when I get back,” she said with a small sigh. “I’ve got this one chapter that’s been giving me so much trouble.”

Riddle raised an eyebrow. “What subject?”

“Potions,” Prim replied, scrunching her nose. “There’s this one section about ingredient interactions that I just can’t wrap my head around. It’s like the words blur together every time I try to read it.”

He stopped walking, considering her words. He remembered studying potions theory himself the year prior. It wasn’t an easy subject, especially when it came to understanding the subtleties of ingredient dynamics. But he’d mastered it, of course.

Prim tilted her head, glancing at him curiously. “What is it?”

Riddle felt a flicker of hesitation. The idea of offering his help seemed straightforward enough, but his mind began to overanalyze. Would it be strange to suggest it? They were friends now, weren’t they? And helping a friend was a reasonable thing to do.

But what if she felt pressured to accept? Prim had always been eager to please, and the last thing he wanted was for her to feel obligated. Still, she had said she was glad they were friends. Surely she wouldn’t find the gesture unwelcome?

“Riddle?” Prim’s voice was soft, her gaze searching his.

He straightened, pushing his doubts aside with a deep breath. “If you’re struggling with that chapter,” he began carefully, “I could help you study.”

He watched her expression closely, his heart beating just a little faster as he waited for her response.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Prim’s POV

Prim clutched her study books tightly to her chest as she walked toward Night Raven College. The path to the all-boys school was winding, but she didn’t mind. The weather was nice, the air crisp, and her heart felt unusually light.

She couldn’t stop thinking about the day before, when Riddle had offered to help her with her potions studies. It had been so unexpected, and the moment he’d asked, she’d said yes without hesitation.

Of course, she was grateful for his help. Riddle was brilliant—he knew so much, and she was certain he’d explain things far better than her textbook ever could. But more than that, the thought of spending time with him made her genuinely happy.

She smiled to herself, her steps quickening as she remembered the feeling. She’d made an actual friend.

In high school, she’d been alone more often than not. She tried to fit in, but it was like she didn’t quite know how. Her curls were too unruly, her braces too shiny, and her lisp made her stumble over words when she was nervous. She remembered watching other girls gather in groups, laughing and chatting easily, while she lingered on the edges, hoping to be noticed.

When she’d started college, she promised herself things would be different. She’d make friends this time, no matter what. And she had—Hazel, Trinity, and Opal had been quick to include her. But it hadn’t taken long to realize that their kindness only went so far.

Prim sighed softly, her grip tightening on her books. Her so-called friends weren’t really nice to her, not in the way that mattered. She knew that. But wasn’t it better to have bad friends than none at all?

At least, that’s what she used to believe.

But then there was Riddle. He was so different from anyone she’d met before—kind in his own quiet, composed way. He didn’t laugh at her or make her feel small. When he talked to her, it felt like he actually saw her, not just the odd girl with the curls and the braces.

Riddle is a real friend, she thought, her heart fluttering.

She almost started skipping as she neared the gates of Night Raven College, her excitement outweighing her nerves. The idea of walking into an all-boys school was a little intimidating, but she didn’t let it bother her. Riddle had offered to help, and she was determined to make the most of it.

When the imposing gates of the school came into view, Prim spotted a familiar figure waiting for her.

Riddle stood with his hands clasped neatly in front of him, his posture as straight and proper as ever. He spotted her immediately and stepped forward.

“Good afternoon, Prim,” he said, his tone formal but not unfriendly.

“Hi, Riddle!” she greeted, her voice bright as she hurried up to him. “Thanks for meeting me.”

“It’s no trouble,” he replied, gesturing toward the campus. “I thought it would be best to guide you directly to my dorm. Night Raven College can be... confusing to navigate if you’re unfamiliar.”

She nodded eagerly, her nerves momentarily forgotten. “I really appreciate it. I’ll try not to get in the way too much!”

Riddle gave a small shake of his head. “You’re not in the way. I offered, didn’t I?”

Her smile widened at his words, and as they began walking, she glanced around, taking in the grand architecture of the school.

“It’s such a big campus,” she said, her awe evident. “It must be amazing to go here.”

“It has its merits,” Riddle said simply, though there was a faint note of pride in his voice.

Prim followed him through the gates and into the courtyard, her excitement bubbling up again. She had no idea what to expect, but one thing was certain—Riddle was her friend now. She can’t wait for tonight, when she can write in her diary about today.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Riddle’s POV

As Riddle led Prim through the gates of Heartslabyul, he noticed the usual shift in demeanor among his dormmates. Students standing idly by quickly straightened their postures, their conversations quieting as they noticed him. It was routine, of course—expected behavior from those under his jurisdiction—but it wasn’t something he’d ever given much thought to.

Prim, however, seemed to notice. She glanced around curiously as they passed a group of first-years who hurriedly bowed their heads in greeting.

“Good afternoon, Housewarden!” one of them called.

Prim blinked, slowing her steps slightly. “Housewarden?” she repeated, looking at Riddle.

He cleared his throat, feeling a faint warmth creep up his neck. “Yes,” he said stiffly. “I am the housewarden of Heartslabyul.”

Her eyes widened as the pieces seemed to fall into place. “Ohhh, that makes so much sense now!” she said, her voice light with realization. “No wonder everyone is so respectful around you. You’re in charge!”

Riddle frowned slightly, his usual composure slipping just a little. “It’s merely my duty,” he said, trying to downplay the significance.

Prim, however, seemed delighted. “That’s amazing, Riddle! You must be really good at what you do for them to listen to you like that.”

Her praise caught him off guard, and he quickly turned his attention back to the path, his face warming further. “It’s nothing remarkable. Let’s continue to my room.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When they reached his room, Riddle opened the door and stepped aside to let Prim in. She hesitated for a moment before walking in, clutching her books tightly.

“I’ve never been in a boy’s room before,” she said with a small giggle, glancing around.

Riddle stiffened, his hand tightening slightly on the doorknob. “It’s just a room,” he said quickly, closing the door behind them.

Prim wandered further inside, her eyes wide as she took in the neat, organized space. The room was larger than she had expected, with a tidy desk, bookshelves filled to the brim, and a large canopy bed. Everything was perfectly arranged, a reflection of Riddle’s meticulous nature.

“This is so nice!” she said, smiling as she turned to him. “It’s so... Riddle.”

He blinked. “What do you mean by that?”

“It’s so neat and organized,” she said, laughing lightly. “It just feels like you. I love it.”

Her laughter was high but not too loud often accompanied by a snort. It was infectious and Riddle found himself relaxing slightly.

Prim grinned, plopping herself onto the edge of the chair near his desk and opening her books. “Okay, ready to study?”

He nodded, pulling out a chair for himself and settling in beside her. “Let’s begin. You mentioned you were struggling with ingredient interactions?”

As they worked through the chapter, Riddle was surprised by how focused Prim was. Though she had trouble grasping some of the concepts at first, she listened intently to his explanations, asking thoughtful questions and jotting down notes.

Her enthusiasm was refreshing, and Riddle found himself genuinely enjoying the session.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A knock at the door interrupted them just as Prim was beginning to understand a particularly tricky concept.

“Come in,” Riddle called, glancing up.

The door opened to reveal Trey, carrying a tray of freshly baked cookies. He smiled when he saw them. “I thought you two might want a snack,” he said, placing the tray on the desk.

Prim’s eyes lit up. “Oh, wow! These look amazing!”

“They’re still warm,” Trey said with a chuckle. “Help yourselves.”

Prim picked up a cookie and took a bite, her eyes widening in delight. “These are so good!” she said, her voice muffled slightly by the cookie.

Riddle picked one up as well, though he was far more reserved in his reaction. “Thank you, Trey,” he said politely.

Trey turned to Prim, bowing his head slightly wearing a kind smile. “Nice to meet you, I’m Trey, the vice housewarden of Heartslabyul.”

Prim sat up straight and returned his smile with one of her own. “Nice to meet you too! I’m Prim!”

Trey smiled knowingly, glancing between the two of them. “Well… Let me know if you need anything else,” he said before heading out.

As the door closed, Prim turned to Riddle, her smile as bright as ever. “Your dormmates are so nice. And these cookies? Best study snack ever.”

Riddle nodded, feeling a faint sense of pride in Heartslabyul’s hospitality. “Trey is an excellent baker,” he said.

Prim grinned, holding up her notebook. “And you’re an excellent teacher. I’m actually starting to get this now!”

Riddle looked at her, his expression softening. “You’re a quick learner,” he said. “You just needed someone to explain it in a way that made sense to you.”

Her smile widened, and she leaned forward slightly. “Thanks, Riddle. Really. You’re the best.”

His face warmed again, and he quickly turned back to the open book in front of him. “Let’s continue,” he said, his voice a little tighter than usual.

Prim giggled, taking another bite of her cookie before diving back into her notes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Riddle shifted in his chair, trying to focus on the textbook in front of him, but his thoughts kept wandering. It wasn’t the material that distracted him—he’d long since mastered the subject—but rather Prim, who was sitting just a little too close.

She was leaning forward slightly, her notebook open as she jotted down notes, the end of her pencil tapping lightly against her lip in thought. Her blonde curls framed her face in soft spirals, bouncing faintly with every movement. Her braces gleamed when she smiled, the colorful elastics drawing his attention in a way he didn’t expect.

When she spoke, her slight lisp added an unexpected charm to her words, her voice full of enthusiasm even as she struggled with the material.

Riddle frowned slightly, feeling a warmth creep up his neck. He wasn’t used to this—having someone so close, so lively, so...

He surprised himself when the thought crossed his mind: She’s kind of cute.

The realization made his stomach twist, and he quickly looked back at his book, his posture stiffening. Focus, Riddle, he scolded himself silently. You’re here to help her study, nothing more.

Still, it was difficult to ignore her presence, especially when she turned to him with that bright smile, her gratitude shining in her eyes.

When their study session ended, Prim packed up her books, her smile never fading. “Thank you so much, Riddle,” she said for what felt like the tenth time. “You’re seriously the best. I actually feel like I understand this now!”

“It was no trouble,” he replied, his voice clipped as he tried to maintain his composure.

Riddle walked her back to the gates, insisting on showing her the way in case she would get lost. Walking back they made a bit of small talk and Riddle could feel the stares. But he tried to ignore them, he was just walking his friend out.

Prim slung her bag over her shoulder, pausing when they arrived at the gates. “I’ll see you soon, okay? Thanks again!”

She waved cheerfully before walking back to her own dorm, leaving Riddle alone.

He let out a small breath, his shoulders relaxing. The session had gone well, but he couldn’t shake the strange fluttering sensation in his chest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later, in the Heartslabyul lounge, Riddle sat with a book in hand, though his thoughts kept drifting back to Prim’s visit.

“Hey, Riddle!”

He looked up to see Trey and Cater approaching, both wearing knowing smiles.

“How did the study session go?” Trey asked casually, though there was a glint of curiosity in his eyes.

“Was she nice? Fun? Cute?” Cater added, leaning in with a teasing grin.

Riddle frowned, not catching the implication. “It went well. She understood the material by the end, and she was very polite.”

Cater’s grin widened. “Oh, ‘polite,’ huh? That’s it?”

“She seemed... eager to learn,” Riddle continued, ignoring Cater’s tone.

Trey chuckled softly. “And you were okay with her being in your space? You usually don’t let just anyone into your room.”

Riddle hesitated, adjusting his tie. “She’s a friend,” he said finally. “It’s natural to help a friend, isn’t it?” Calling her a friend almost made him feel proud.

Cater exchanged a look with Trey, his grin turning sly. “Right. A ‘friend.’”

Before Riddle could respond, the lounge door burst open, and Ace and Deuce strolled in.

“Hey, Housewarden!” Ace called, plopping down on one of the couches. “We heard you had a guest today.”

Deuce looked confused. “Guest?”

“Yeah,” Ace said, smirking. “A girl.”

Riddle’s grip on his book tightened. “What of it?”

“C’mon, spill! Is she your girlfriend or something?” Ace asked, leaning forward with an exaggerated grin.

Riddle’s face turned red, and he slammed his book shut. “O-of course not!” he snapped, his voice sharp.

Ace burst out laughing, clearly enjoying himself. “Whoa, calm down! I was just asking.”

“She’s a friend, nothing more,” Riddle said firmly, glaring at Ace.

Deuce, sensing the tension, elbowed Ace. “Knock it off, Ace. You’re being rude.”

“What? I’m just curious!” Ace said, still grinning.

Riddle stood abruptly, his expression stern. “If you’re finished with your childish remarks, I have work to do.”

He strode out of the lounge, his cape billowing behind him, leaving the others behind.

Trey shook his head, though he was smiling faintly. “You pushed too hard, Ace.”

“Aw, come on,” Ace said, leaning back with a laugh. “You can’t blame me for asking. Did you see how flustered he got?”

Cater grinned. “I don’t know, Ace. Maybe he’s just new to this whole ‘having friends’ thing.”

“Or maybe,” Trey said with a small chuckle, “he’s starting to realize that having a friend like Prim might be a little more important to him than he thought.”

None of them noticed the faint blush creeping up Riddle’s ears as he listened just outside the door, his grip tightening on his book.

#twst oc #twisted wonderland #riddle rosehearts #prim #Chat GPT helped me with the format and stuff but scenarios are all from this rotting brain

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